In a Reverie, a harry potter fanfic

Title: In a Reverie

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Drama, little Action, some Angst and light Mystery

Spoilers: Philosopher's Stone to Half-Blood Prince

Period: circa 1981 (Lily/James Era)

Pairings: Lily Evans/James Potter

Summary: When Remus Lupin lives through a tragedy caused by the fang's of the beast within, he is forever changed. James and Lily Potter have the chance to live happily ever after . . . if they will take it. Sirius Black's life ended prematurely, but he never fell through that veil. Death Eaters aren't human, and the Dark Lord was never defeated. Not by Harry Potter. But he's dead, nonetheless.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The plot, however, is created by the writer and is not to be replicated by another.

Writer's Notes: Major AU warning! Thanks to Ria and Leslie for the beta job. Some beginning parts (the regular font and some bolded of the first few pages) partially inspired by Reservoir Dogs. Goddess be thanked for Quentin Tarantino and, on a much larger scale, Steve Buscemi.

In a Reverie

a remus lupin alternative universe

You see, a dream is defined in many ways, Remus. It can be a fantastic but vain hope, or fantasies induced by the opium pipe. It is a state of mind characterised by abstraction and release from reality. Or perhaps it is a series of mental images and emotions occurring during sleep. One can also dream while one is awake, can indulge in fantasies and epic expeditions that have little to do with reality.

Remus Lupin staggered into an old warehouse, his breathing ragged and his legs threatening to give out. The warehouse was dim and neglected, water dripped steadily from the cracked ceiling and pooling in reflective puddles on the cement floor. Streams of dusty sunlight filtered through the high, circular windows and shone upon the other two souls in the building.

Frank Longbottom snapped his head towards his fellow Order wizard, his cerulean eyes rolled back into his head as he doubled over and coughed violently. Blood trickled from the corners of his mouth, and Severus Snape wiped the drops away with a pale hand, easing Frank onto the cold concrete. Frank murmured a word of thanks and tightly held his stomach. Blood seeped over his white knuckles and collected beneath him.

"Bleedin' hell, what happened to Frank?" Remus muttered.

Severus snapped his head towards the Gryffindor, greasy strands of black hair framing his prominent features. His eyes narrowed into slits. "Lestrange had a sword," he answered quietly as he slapped Frank across the face, willing him to stay awake.

Remus locked his yellow eyes with Severus's black ones. "Oh," he whispered. He stared absently at Frank, the crimson blood merely a shade of grey to him, and for a moment, Remus longed to see the vibrancy of red. "What happened to McKinnon?"

"Dead."

"Oh . . . how'd she die?"

Severus reeled on him, his eyes blazing murderously. His upper lip twitched in annoyance as he stared at the twenty-year-old half-breed. "How do you think? The Death Eaters got her!" he barked, and returned to dressing Frank's mortal wounds.

The Death Eaters got her. What Death Eaters do you speak of, Remus? Do you realise the monsters your fractured mind twisted into existence are nothing like the short, carnivorous little . . . things . . . they really are? One is hardly large enough to hold a sword, much less wield it, and they are not as beautiful as this Bellatrix Lestrange is.

There. are. no. human. Death Eaters, Remus!

They are a species all of their own. Created from unearthly magicks by a half-man mortal who sought to duplicate life. He failed! McKinnon didn't die by Death Eater claws! She went on to have two-point-five children and run her husband's business into the ground while he watched, his hands preoccupied with the bodies of harlots.

It took a moment for the words to impact Remus, and when they did, he raked his slender fingers through his dishevelled hair, tucking the fawn-coloured strands safely behind his ears. He sniffled and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his grey robes. "This is bad. This is so bloody bad. Is it bad?" he mumbled incoherently.

"As opposed to good?" Severus sneered.

Remus whimpered, and Severus forced an insult back down his throat.

Frank groaned, his bloodstained hands scraped over Severus's forearms, yanking on the thick red fabric. Blood seeped through the bandages Severus had moments ago wrapped and gathered in beautiful mortal puddles beneath his torso. "I'm going to die," he moaned, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm going to die, Severus!"

Severus frowned and averted his gaze. "Do you think we were set up?"

"I don't think we got set up--I know we got set up," Remus answered quickly, in one breath.

Severus watched, bemused, as Remus wrung his hands together nervously and twisted his lip, chewing on the inside of his mouth.

"Did you see what happened to anybody else?" Remus asked after a few tense, silent moments.

"Frank and I Apparated out of there. McKinnon was hit. Black and Potter were surrounded by Death Eaters." Severus sank to the floor, drew his legs towards his chest and sighed deeply, his weary eyes closing thankfully. "After that, I don't know what went down. We're supposed to meet here. That was the plan."

Remus hugged himself and leaned against the wall, the brick cold against his sweating back. "Then where the fuck is everybody?" Remus screamed, his voice echoing off the rafters high above them. He knocked his head back against the worn-out burgundy brick of the warehouse. "I say the plan becomes null and void once we find out we've got a rat in the house!"

Severus sneered. "For all I know, you're the fucking rat!"

"For all we know, he's the rat." Remus pointed to Frank.

Severus scrambled to his feet. His robes caught beneath his combat boots as he rose, and he staggered forward a step. He regained his balance after several moments. "That man is dying from a wound I saw him take, so don't you go calling him a rat!" Severus said boldly, staring Remus in the eyes.

The Order of the Phoenix arrived to an empty building. The floorboards creaked beneath their boots with each step they took. Invisible winds howled through broken windows and ruffled the skirts of their robes, chanted in their ears as ghosts that they would fail, only to die and rot with those they despised the most. The skilful group held their wands apprehensively at their sides as they slowly moved around the command centre of the Death Eaters.

Albus Dumbledore ushered Frank Longbottom's faction towards the south while the others took to the north. Spiders skittered across the floor, away from the thirty-some wizards who invaded their sanctuary with dangerous, heavy boots and unnecessary sunlight. Ravens cawed outside, perched upon the pointed rooftop, and fluttered their wings before taking off.

If any of them were aware of the raven, they would have taken it as a bad omen.

"Where are they?" Frank whispered to Marlene McKinnon, a twenty-something blonde with large breasts and hips to match, and a paunch on her stomach that wasn't necessarily due to fat. She had graduated three years before Frank from the house of Godric Gryffindor and had been sleeping with the same man for six years.

Marlene shrugged and peered around the corner.

Her jade-green eyes met with the end of a wand.

Before Frank could react, Marlene flew backwards--

--through the wall--

--into the next room.

"Trap! It's a trap!" Frank warned as a pack of Death Eaters advanced upon them.

"I'll tell you who I think it is," Severus said. "That Black character."

But Sirius died five years ago.

He was never there! What are you talking about? Sirius Black spent the last days of his god-awful life in Her Majesty's Prison Nottingham, awaiting a release date that was a few decades away. He was not framed and Peter is a civic hero, the one witness to his insane crime who had the nerve to testify against him.

Peter was never your friend. His last name was not Pettigrew.

There was no Peter Pettigrew!

Well, we can say that there was, and that he lived within the confines of Sirius's mind.

Remus scowled, his anger rising, boiling in his blood. "Sirius would never do that to us! What about you? Years ago you wore the Dark Mark with pride! Now you stand here and fight with us? Something tells me you're the bloody rat! Albus is a fool to trust you."

"If I wanted to betray you, I could have done it many times before!" Severus growled, his hand poised ready over his redwood wand, his black eyes narrowing threateningly.

Remus's own hand went to the weapon concealed in the folds of his robes. "What's in it for you, Snape?" he asked accusingly. The silence between them became oppressive. Each could hear their hearts caroming inside their ribcages, hear the ragged breathing of the other wizard.

"Fuck you, Lupin," snarled Severus. "I didn't create this situation."

"And I'm just dealing with it," Remus returned. He flicked his wand towards Severus.

Each faced each other, their eyes wide with anxiety and distress. Severus licked his dry lips as he tightened his grip on his wand; Remus smirked nonchalantly and waited for the Slytherin to cast the first spell.

Severus returned the smirk. "Expelliarmus!"

"Dens--"

Jolts of white light struck Remus's hand and sent his wand flying into the air.

A series of soft chuckles came from the doorway, followed by a smooth voice. "You boys shouldn't play so rough. Somebody's going to start crying," James Potter said, offering the irritated werewolf and greasy-haired Slytherin a lopsided grin. "Where're the others?"

But James never did defeat the Dark Lord, and Harry was never born.

Severus returned his wand to the inside pocket concealed within his robes. "That, Potter, is what we were discussing," Severus hissed, his upper lip rising with irritation, his chest heaving as he took several deep breaths. "What happened to Black? Wasn't he with you?"

"He was. We got separated," James dismissed carelessly.

James Potter and Sirius Black were the best of friends, but together as brothers-in-arms, they were rather hopeless. Unintentional, haphazard actions followed them like fake monks begging for money to perform their outlandish healing miracles. Oh, Sirius and James possessed war skills, but they were never in battles that lasted long enough for their training to be constructively used.

Ten black-robed Death Eaters surrounded them, their eyes shadowed by the bloodstained ivory masks, their watering mouths crooked in grins of bloodlust and satisfaction.

For a moment, James considered handing them a bucket.

"Okay. Um. Sirius, take the five on the left, leave the five on the right to me."

James gave Sirius a quick glance, his tongue running over his parched lips, eager for battle and the adrenaline rush--a drug James was quite hooked on--that was soon to follow. In his left hand he clutched his unicorn-haired wand, his long fingers flexing over the smooth mahogany as the words of carefully memorized curses formed silently on his lips.

"Just like old times, eh?" James beamed, remembering back to their drills with Albus.

Sirius circled on the spot, his grey eyes lingering on each of the Death Eaters before him. His mind frantically calculated the minutes he had yet to live. "Yeah, except there are actual Death Eaters here!" Sirius laughed, the sound a crude bark that the Death Eaters had heard many times from Regulus's mouth. It was the one thing the brothers shared, though neither would ever admit it.

And within mere seconds, twelve voices erupted into death curses and disarming charms.

Six of the Death Eaters were disarmed, another was dead (Sirius said that it was his curse that did Dolohov in, but James later contradicted him with the truth), and those remaining were hurled through the walls. When the lights of magic cleared, James looked over at Sirius. The triumphant grin that was plastered across his handsome face soon fell--Sirius Black was gone.

"Is he dead?" Remus asked, perpetually fearful of the answer.

James shook his head, a few thick strands of charcoal-black hair, which he would have dramatically brushed back if Lily Evans-soon-to-be-Potter were here, fell before his dynamic hazel eyes. "Nah, couldn't be. He'll show up. Don't worry 'bout 'ol Padfoot, he's been in tighter situations than what we faced."

Severus glowered, throwing James and Remus a disapproving, calculating stare. "Black won't be coming back," he muttered, but his voice was loud enough to float over to the Gryffindors. "Can't you see, Potter, Black has betrayed us!"

"I thought we agreed that you were the traitor, Snape," Remus muttered.

Severus snarled and spun away from the Gryffindors, his robes billowing about his ankles.

"Aw, fuck, is Franky dead?" James exasperated.

Remus, remembering only now that Frank was still with them, bleeding to death on the stone floor, turned to watch Severus kneel beside the Auror and intently search for the pulse on Frank's neck. Remus's heart stopped sinking when Severus announced, "Nah, he's just unconscious. But he will die if he doesn't get to the casualty."

"So I say we get out of here before the Death Eaters show up. If we were betrayed--"

"It's not a matter of if!" Remus hollered.

Severus glared at the bothersome interruption and continued, "If we were betrayed, I have no doubt that they will soon show up. This is the last place we wish to be!" Lifting Frank two feet from the ground with a hover charm, Severus guided the unconscious and dying man towards the rear of the warehouse. He glanced back at Remus and James. "I'm sure one of you can make yourselves useful and arrange us a port--"

Severus suddenly fell silent, raising his head.

The building shook as if made of sand and sticks. The air exploded with dust and debris.

Flames erupted outside.

Above them, they could all hear the sound of wood splitting and breaking, the thud of falling timber. Severus, Remus, and James watched with stunned horror, paralysed by the sight of the gigantic ceiling beams shuddering.

The building began to collapse on itself.

"Get out!" Remus shrieked. "The whole place is--!"

Never mind, I realised I lied.

James never did defeat the Dark Lord, that part was true, but Harry is no hero in death. His death was an accident, your fault of negligence. Lily was walking home late at night, from her job serving meals to Muggles with talking hands. She was a waitress, paying for college. She hated that job, trucking men always pinched her arse when she brought them their pork sausages and chips. She had to fake a pleasant smile and accept it, otherwise she'd lose the ten-percent tips that put nappies on Harry.

She was pushing a pram along the pavement.

The wheels raked against the cement as Harry sucked on his dummy.

She made it home. Her baby never did.

A beam directly above the werewolf gave an immense groan, then split and cracked.

Remus Lupin awoke to the dawning sun leaking into his otherwise dark chamber. He groaned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Squinting against the bright light invading his sanctuary, Remus frowned. It couldn't have been past ten in the morning, there was someplace he was supposed to be at that time. But Remus couldn't remember where. Or how he would get there. Perhaps he could flap his wings and fly.

Voices erupted outside of his white chamber--three of them, he thought.

"No, doctor." And, "Yes, doctor." And, "We'll see, doctor."

Remus thought he recognised the voices, but he couldn't be too sure. His ears twitched as he listened carefully--the woman, perhaps a nurse, had a voice dipped in honey--and he walked over to the sink in the corner to splash cold water on his face in hopes of drowning out the voices that no longer came from outside the white walls. These voices screamed and talked over one another rapidly. They did not speak in delicate, refined voices that made Remus want to slip his tongue into the speaker's mouth and caress that speaker's body with his hands.

There was an Order meeting, he recalled. The Order of the Phoenix, named obviously for the solar bird whose ashes were the Cradle of Life. Remus never fancied the bird, he tended to gleefully watch Fawkes's Burning Day.

Who was Fawkes again? Remus couldn't remember seeing the fowl.

Remus's eyes flickered to his ceiling--black and vast, with little stars flickering into existence as though some lost God was lighting millions of small candles--and stared. He blinked, and when he reopened his eyes, he realised that his ceiling wasn't enchanted.

It stared back at him, white and empty. Like his room.

Was there ever an enchanted ceiling?

Absent-mindedly, he reminisced about Hogwarts, flowers that were beautifully enthralled with roots that grew into the air and sucked water from the dirt. He thought it--the flower--was red. But it could be black or even neon pink and pastel green.

On second thought, Remus decided that there was no Hogwarts.

It was just easier this way.

And if he concentrated hard enough, maybe there would be no empty room.

Remus Lupin awoke to the dawning sun leaking into his chambers. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he gawked at his surroundings. He lay in a black canopy bed. Satin sheets, by the feel of them, and very warm. Cosy. Perfect for the winter months. An ornately carved barrister bookcase stood to his right, filled with wondrous novels and tomes dating back to the ancient days. The walls were painted a silvery-blue; the floor was hard rosewood. Candles lined the walls, offering Remus a natural dim light that didn't hurt his amber eyes.

But Remus awoke three hours ago to an empty white room.

And in another three hours, he'll be in the mind-invented warehouse.

"Get out!" Remus shrieked. "The whole place is--"

A beam directly above the werewolf gave an immense groan, then split and cracked.

"Remus!" James shouted as the beam collapsed. Dense dust filled the air and seeped into James's lungs with each coughing-breath he took. He dived forward, his stomach skidded against the concrete and shredded the fronts of his scarlet robes as he desperately reached for Remus's unconscious form.

James frantically glanced about, the building crumbling all around him. "Severus!"

Severus rushed forward, beads of sweat slowly dripping from his hairline down the bridge of his nose. Behind him, Frank floated, unconscious and oblivious, probably about to die from matters other than haemorrhaging.

"We don't have time!" Severus shouted.

"We aren't leaving them behind!"

"We'll be killed," Severus snarled.

James shot him a callous glance, his lip rising. "We leave no man behind!"

Outside, the Death Eaters chanted and hollered.

"Then we die together!" Severus's hands balled into fists.

James bit his lip, drawing blood. He sucked on the wound, his tongue digging deeper into the flesh for the metallic taste of life's power. He stared at Remus. The werewolf's chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and a small stream of glistening blood trailed from the back of his head and down his neck to collect at the small of his back.

James shut his eyes.

Flames flicked through the broken windows. Dust settled slowly as smoke filled the air.

Death Eaters circled the disintegrating building, their numbers a hundred strong, their wands poised and curses ready upon their white-covered lips. They crashed through the damaged and decayed walls, the sound strongly resembling a thunder clap.

Black-robes surrounded the famous James Potter and their old comrade, Severus Snape.

Lord Voldemort entered stoically, the black-haired Bellatrix Lestrange and blonde Narcissa Malfoy flanking him. He was no more than a lucid wisp of energy with ruby eyes, and the women beside him wore black crowns of power and translucent robes. A triumphant smile crept to Lord Voldemort's lips (where those were, James couldn't say) and he raised his phoenix-feather wand. Drafts of energy bordered the wand, dancing slowly around the smooth yew.

James ran a sweaty hand through his hair.

Then slowly, as though ten thousand gusts of wind ran through the building, Lord Voldemort spoke. "Look at what your child has reduced me to, Potter. You think you have won, you think I am defeated. I am now a mere reflection of my former glory and power, but as long as there are those faithful to my word, I am never truly gone."

James smirked and awaited the inevitable.

The white room fell into a silence as Remus's screams faded and died in a smouldering emerald inferno. The sheets were singed and the walls were seared black. Remus's tattered white robe was scorched at the hems. His pallid skin, however, was left unmarred, untainted from faults of the mind.

And outside, if Remus could see into the mortal world, a redheaded nurse stood on tiptoe, squinting through the thick window at the top of the door. Her emerald eyes shone brilliantly in the fluorescent runner-lights of the infirmary, her complexion was pale, and her expression gave the impression that her eyes were staring into a faraway place. The young nurse sighed and turned away from the window as an elderly doctor approached, his greying boots beating gently upon the linoleum.

"I don't understand, Doctor."

The white-bearded man rested his hand gently on her shoulder. "You will, Lillian."

Lillian looked up to see the doctor's sapphire eyes flicker. She absent-mindedly patted the wrinkled hand on her shoulder, her mouth curving into a frown as her bottom lip trembled. "What fires exist that can burn everything but the skin?" she asked softly.

The doctor smiled knowingly. "Fires of the mind, dear. It's not magic, not the same as the patient's anyway. It was real to him. The building, his friends, the Death Eaters. The Death Eaters became extinct long ago, some poor experiment of the wizard who never was half-a-man. You had better leave for home now, Lily. James is waiting."

Lillian hugged herself. She bit her bottom lip to fight back the emotions that were flooding over, and her eyes filled with tears that occasionally spilled over. "Things aren't the same, doctor," she sniffled, using the sleeve of her white uniform to wipe her nose and eyes.

"You cannot expect them to be. How long has it been since you gave young Harry back to the ground? A year? Sometimes, tragedy will split people apart, other times it can bring them together. Are you and James strong enough, Lily? Poor Remus wasn't."

You're gone now, I can feel myself ebbing away, into nothingness and black abyss.

What really did you in, Remus?

It wasn't the Death Eaters. It wasn't the fire. Those were created in your mind. Thought cannot kill you. Only action can. Frank didn't die there, he lived on to see his hair turn grey and his wife leave him for someone twenty years younger. Sirius was never there, he died before you could tell him goodbye, swept away by Death's fingers and burning metal. James and Lily did live happily ever after, eventually. Their son died shortly after he was born--mauled.

Do you know by what?

A werewolf.

And that was when I was born. And this is where I shall die. With you. Within you.

We only see what our minds want us to see, Remus. You may have found comfort in the world you created but I am not you. I do not hide from the truth and myself and those I've hurt. I apologise, Lily and James, and Harry too. I apologise, although it is too late for words you will never hear.