So. Here it is. The final piece of the story. Thank you to everyone who stuck by me for it. I hope you liked it. And just to top it off, I've made this final part quite long. Yes, you're welcome.
As a warning: Sirius' half of the epilogue is kind of GRAPHIC by my standards which may be lower than yours. You have been warned.
Epilogue: After It All
Remus Seven Years After Potters' Deaths
It had been many years now since the night that changed Remus' life indefinitely. Remus had long ago moved out of the apartment he and Sirius had shared. As he thought he would, Dumbledore offered Remus assistance in finding a new place to reside. He had been living in a small cottage outside of London. It was in the boondocks and did not merit many visitors. Remus didn't mind. His life had lost its meaning several years ago. He left his residence nearly every day in search of work. He knew he would never be able to find a job in the Wizarding World. For sustenance, a muggle career would have to be good enough. He had held many muggle jobs, but they never seemed to last more than a few months. Whether he was fired because of unexplainable owls flying around his head, or because of his constant absenteeism at the fault of his lycanthropy, it really wasn't worth trying to explain. Any money he could scrape up was good enough for him. Though Dumbledore did not charge for the cottage he lived in, Remus still needed to eat, and he was in constant need of healing potions.
The cottage he resided in had been created with a strong stone basement. He no longer had any need or urge to go to Hogwarts for his transformations. He had not been inside the Shrieking Shack since the night of James and Lily's deaths. As was true of his old apartment, the Shack held too many painful memories.
It was Halloween. No children visited his cottage on this night, for he was much too far away from civilization for that. But this night held so much meaning. It had been exactly seven years since James and Lily had died. It had been exactly seven years since he had lost Sirius. It was pain that he knew would never dull. It would never go away and there was nothing he could do to remedy it. Every year since that fateful night, Remus spent his time looking through old photographs, trying to avoid any of himself and Sirius, but he knew those were the ones he wanted to see most. It was the only night of the year he would allow himself to openly show the pain that still ate at his heart every single day.
Sirius was still in Azkaban. On a visit several weeks ago from Albus, Remus had been informed of Sirius' exceptional sanity. Most wizards, after just months in Azkaban lost their minds from their constant contact with Dementors. For some reason the Headmaster of Hogwarts did not know or truly understand, Sirius had not lost his mind in nearly seven years. It was astounding and miraculous and very confusing. In all his many years, Dumbledore had never seen anyone withstand Dementors so well for so long.
Remus had been very happy to hear of Sirius' near lack of pain in Azkaban. Though he still believed Sirius to be responsible for the death of James and Lily, it was a grudge he had given up on long ago. He could not deny to himself that he would always love Sirius. There was nothing he could do to stop, and apparently, there was nothing Sirius could do to make him stop. There were times when the werewolf felt ashamed for still loving a murderer so much. He felt as though it was an insult to James, Lily and Peter's memories. But he couldn't stop it.
He sat on his small twin-sized bed, flipping through old pictures from his days at Hogwarts. There were so many of himself, James, Sirius and Peter throughout the seven years they resided there. There were even some of James and Lily from their seventh year, and so many more of Sirius, James and Peter in their animagus forms. One of his favorite pictures was one of Lily and young Harry riding on Prongs' back around their yard in Godric's Hollow. This photograph always succeeded in making tears well up in his eyes. He would stare at the photo for several long seconds before placing it away from the pile of photographs he had already examined and move on with an awkward mix of pain and pleasure in his heart.
From there, he would look at all the photos he had from Lily and James' wedding and every picture he could find of baby Harry. He had not seen the child since he and Sirius had gotten him out of the crumbling house in Godric's Hollow. He knew the child was famous beyond his own belief, but he could not bear to find him. Though Remus thought about him often, he knew the boy would not be likely to remember him, and that would only break the lycanthrope's heart even more. Someday, he knew, he would meet Harry and share with him the part he had played in the young boy's life.
The final stack of old photographs Remus would peruse through were those of himself and Sirius after they had gotten together. They were closest to his heart. They were all he had left of the man he loved. The Sirius he had loved was gone, to be replaced with a crazed man on the front page of the Daily Prophet laughing about the mass murder he had just committed. These pictures were all Remus had to remember the true Sirius Black by.
This year, he decided to look at each picture carefully and try to remember what he had felt like when it had been taken. He tried to remember what his life was like back then. Rather than be saddened by them, he intended to cheer himself up with them. Yes, Sirius was gone, and it was unlikely they would ever meet again, but his memory was here in these pictures and in Remus' heart. They should be cherished. It was time Remus learned to think of his lost lover with fondness rather than remorse.
The first photo he picked up was a picture he remembered Lily taking of the two of them at her wedding to James. They had been sneaking away from the party to enjoy some time to themselves. Lily, always observant, had watched as they snuck away. She had followed them with her camera, knowing quite well what she was likely to walk into when she opened the door to a large closet in the hotel that hosted her reception. She had snapped the photograph before either Remus or Sirius could push her away. What resulted was a miraculous display of Remus silently screaming bloody murder and Sirius' angered face pulling away from his lover's unbuttoned chest, followed by his hand reaching out and knocking the camera to the floor.
Remus remembered how Lily had laughed as Sirius stole the camera and ran from the closet with her chasing after him in her wedding gown. If only Remus had a picture of that. He laughed quietly as he set the picture aside and moved on to the next one. This picture, he remembered, had been taken by James. Lily had just given birth to Harry, and he and Sirius had rushed to see and congratulate them. Not even three hours old, Harry yawned in the picture between Uncle Remus and Godfather Sirius. The child was in Sirius' arms while Remus had stared off into space at the couple who could not be seen in the photograph.
Again, he smiled as he thought of the child in Sirius' arms. It was a miraculous day for him. He remembered caring for and loving the child more than anything else in his life at that moment. Just after the picture had been taken, he remembered moving away from Sirius to give Lily a light kiss on the cheek. He was so happy for her and for James that tears had leaked out of his eyes. The result of that was a manly punch on the shoulder from James for being such a pouf. From there, the conversation had escalated humorously as Sirius joined in. It was a glorious day for everyone in that small hospital room.
Again, he put the photo down fondly and moved on. Memory after memory resulting in smiles, laughter and tears of joy. This was the right way to remember his life. Though the past seven years had been miserable, lonely and horribly empty, what he had enjoyed before this should never have been forgotten or looked upon with sadness. These were the happiest times of his life shining up at him with joy. He had no right to see them as the treacherous memories he had considered them as for so many years now.
He stopped at a picture he did not remember looking at the year before, or even the year before that. He was sure he had, but he could not recall. Nor could he conceive for the life of him who had taken it. It was the first Christmas at the Potters' with Harry. That would have made it the last Christmas at the Potters'. James had forced Peter to dress up as Santa Claus for Harry. However, the baby had been so young, he had no idea who or what Peter was supposed to be. Instead, it had been great entertainment for Sirius. In this picture, Sirius was sitting upon Peter's lap, listing off all the things he wanted for Christmas. Remus vividly remembered his own name coming out of Sirius' mouth. He could even see the moment where it had, for Peter's small eyes had widened in the direction of the camera. As he watched the exchange, he suddenly remembered that it had been him who had taken the photograph. How could he have forgotten about this? It was Sirius at his best; nonchalant, stunning and indescribably blunt.
Remus set this picture aside, before flipping through several more. When all was said and done, he placed all the photographs back neatly into the box he kept them in all year round. Until next year, they would reside, undisturbed under his bed. He had left out the picture of Sirius and Peter as well as the one of Lily and Harry on Prongs' back. He held the first in front of his eyes again, wondering what had happened to these two men to force one to murder the other. He shook his head inwardly and told himself that these were not the thoughts he should be having today. Not this year. With a flick of his wand, the two pictures found themselves trapped behind the glass of two identical wooden frames sitting on the beat up coffee table in Remus' living room. That, he decided, is where they should stay. He needed to be reminded of his lost lover and friends. It was important that he not forget. Like he ever could.
***
Sirius Thirteen Years After Potters' Deaths
Everyone was looking for him. He knew that. That was exactly why he knew Remus' cottage on the outskirts of London would be the perfect place for him to hide. No one had visited the werewolf in many years, though the Ministry had indeed interrogated him after hearing about Sirius' escape. Everyone who had been alive and aware when James and Lily had died had knowledge that Sirius and Remus had once lived together.
Now, they had left Remus alone, firmly believing (with the aid of Dumbledore's word) that Remus had nothing to do with Sirius' escape. Indeed, Dumbledore knew that Sirius was innocent, thanks to Harry Potter. More importantly, Remus knew he was innocent, thanks to the appearance of Peter Pettigrew. Remus had agreed swiftly to allow Sirius access to his home. He had resigned from teaching at Hogwarts, and was, again, unemployed. For once in his life, he did not mind one bit.
Slowly, but surely, things were getting better between himself and Sirius. The initial shock of his innocence had worn off, having much to do with the fact that Remus had always wanted to believe it. Still, things had been shaky for many, many weeks, as the two men tried to resuscitate a relationship that had just about died many years before. They were happy and they were confused and they often felt like strangers to each other. Sirius had changed more than either of them liked to admit. He was still the same man Remus had always loved mentally, but twelve years in Azkaban had certainly taken their toll on him physically.
It took a long time for him to learn how to eat properly again, and even longer for him to be able to digest many kinds of food. As much as Remus hated to admit it, Sirius had lost a lot of his physical attractiveness in his years locked away. Of course, this did not make Remus love him any less, it just took a lot of time for the werewolf to get used to Sirius' new, thin and bony body. He knew, no matter how the man's diet improved or changed, he would always look wasted away.
They had tried to rekindle their relationship. Remus had never loved anyone else in their time apart, and Sirius could not have, even if he had wanted to. The Dementors had sucked away every happy memory he had of Remus, but they could do nothing about the bad ones. Though they were devastating, they became one of the things that kept Sirius sane. Any memory of Remus was better than forgetting him. He came to cherish the memories the Dementors did not steal from him.
However, Sirius found it difficult at times to trust his lover. He found it hard to believe Remus had been faithful both in body and mind throughout the entire time Sirius was in Azkaban. For one, Remus had no idea he would ever see Sirius again. How could he not have considered looking for someone else? Remus understood Sirius' doubts. It did not anger him, but he found himself often frustrated with Sirius' stubbornness. He would take a deep breath and continue to tell Sirius he loved him, always had, always would. Eventually, he knew Sirius would have to believe him.
On this night, their conversation took a slightly different turn.
"Did you always think I was innocent, Rem?" Sirius asked, lounging in bed as the werewolf exited the bathroom and entered their shared bedroom. Remus stopped dead at the question. It was one he had been avoiding, and he had really thought he had been making progress with Sirius' trust issues. This was a brand new can of worms he just didn't feel like opening.
He walked slowly to their shared bed, sitting on the edge of it, allowing his shoulders to lean back onto Sirius' lying form. "I think you know the answer to that," he responded, closing his eyes contently as Sirius swept his fingers through Remus' wet hair. "If I remember correctly, I put a wand to your throat." He had a strange urge to chuckle at the memory. He refrained.
Sirius did not. He laughed openly before speaking. "Well, I know that. I mean after that. When did you start believing I was innocent?" He continued to pick through Remus' hair, massaging the man's scalp gently with his fingertips.
Remus pursed his lips at the thought of how best to answer this question. After several seconds, he said, "It didn't take long for me to admit to myself that I was still in love with you, after everything I thought you had done." He paused, forming his next sentence carefully. "I wanted to believe you were innocent, but there was so much evidence against you, Sirius. I don't think I truly thought you were guiltless until I saw that Peter Pettigrew was still alive."
Sirius nodded against his pillow. He had assumed that was the truth. But there was a part of him that hated the fact that Remus had not trusted him and believed in him from the beginning. It was not something he blamed the lycanthrope for. He just hoped, idiotically, that Remus had not blamed him for very long. He pulled Remus up to him gracefully. In the process, the man's towel loosened and nearly revealed him. Sirius wouldn't have minded that. He and Remus were still in the process of correcting that aspect of their relationship. Sirius hated that he could not stop thinking Remus had been with someone else during his years in Azkaban. It interfered greatly with the physical aspect of their relationship.
The only time his anger and frustration at the werewolf came out was when he and Remus made love. Nearly every time, halfway through, Sirius would be overcome with irrational, jealous anger and have to roll away from the werewolf just to contain his urge to hurt him. It was unfair and Sirius was doing everything he could to work on erasing his problem. He didn't know how to keep the horrible mental images of Remus sprawled over other men's bodies from entering his mind, nor could he fathom how to stop them. He knew he was hurting Remus, if not physically, then mentally, but he could not control himself in those desperately intimate moments.
"I never stopped loving you, Sirius," Remus whispered when his face was close enough to Sirius' to touch their noses together.
"I know, Rem," the animagus replied before crushing their lips together. The kiss was short-lived as Remus pulled his mouth away. He rolled onto his side, his back facing Sirius.
He sighed heavily. "I don't want to do this tonight," he explained. His eyebrows knit together with emotion. "It's too much for me right now." He knew Sirius would understand that he was referring to the outbursts that left them both unsatisfied more often than not.
Sirius could not stop the frustrated sigh from escaping him as his fists scrunched up the covers of their bed. "You know I don't mean it," he ground out harshly at the man next to him. "I can't control it."
Remus turned back over, releasing one of Sirius' hands from the bed sheets to entwine it with his fingers. He nodded, speaking softly as he rubbed his thumb across Sirius' tense knuckles. "I know, Sirius. I just don't want to do it tonight."
Sirius' lips were pursed and he refused to look the werewolf in the eyes. He was ashamed of himself and the way he treated the only man who had ever meant anything to him. He wanted to say he was sorry and that it wouldn't be like that this time. But his Black pride was too great and he knew he couldn't stop himself from acting the way he regrettably acted in their intimate moments. Instead, he opted for a tense and awkward silence, while Remus continued to stroke his hand. Sometimes, Sirius had this horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was not good enough for Remus and that Remus would have been better off if he had moved on with his life long ago. It was not fair that Sirius put him through things that only succeeded in making the lycanthrope's life more difficult. Especially not after the innumerable years Remus had suffered at Sirius' expense. He should be healing, not hurting.
He was taken out of his miserable mental thoughts when Remus asked him softly, "What is it that I do that makes you so angry?" His voice held more emotion than Sirius wanted to think about.
The animagus' lips thinned considerably in his own self-hatred. He felt like screaming and crying and having a tantrum like a child, but he replied in perfect monotone, "I can't stop thinking that you've been with someone else," he admitted, shaking his head when Remus tried to protest. "I feel guilty for thinking that, and even more so because I know you'd be better off right now if you were with someone else. I try to keep it in the back of my mind. I know it's not fair to you." He stopped momentarily to readjust his position so he could look more directly at Remus. "I just can't seem to keep it at bay when…." He stopped, his brow creasing in anger directed at no one but himself.
"When we have sex?" Remus supplied. Sirius nodded stiffly. Allowing his face and demeanor to soften considerably, Remus enveloped Sirius in a tight embrace. "I know how hard it was for you in there," he said, doing his best to justify Sirius' actions for both their sakes. "I would feel the same way." That was a lie. Sirius knew it too.
"You wouldn't treat me like this," Sirius responded from over Remus' shoulder. "You would forgive me and love me like not a day had passed."
"But I know you love me, Sirius," the werewolf chuckled. "And I most certainly would not be better off if I had moved on while you were away. You were in every fiber of my being for every second we were apart. I had no room to let anyone else in."
Sirius nodded. "I know that," he ground out honestly, "I just get overwhelmed and something in my mind won't stop thinking you've been unfaithful. And I get this horrible urge to… to hurt you, and it makes me angry and ashamed because I should never want to hurt you like that, Rem. You've done so much for me. It's not right." His throat was clenching up with the emotion of it all.
Again, Remus chuckled. He hadn't known that was why Sirius always stopped things prematurely. He thought the man was constantly overcome with disgust and some sort of sick regret for even starting anything. It was sheer relief that the reason was actually something Remus could deal with so much more readily.
"Why're you bloody laughing?" Sirius inquired in frustration.
"Hurt me then!" Remus burst out, "We both know I can handle it! Get it out and then maybe your subconscious will get over this."
Sirius' eyes widened. "I can't do that, Rem," he stammered. "That's not – that's not right."
"Well, neither is being left all worked up and unsatisfied three nights a week!" He was laughing again. This was all so ridiculous and so easily fixed. He looked into Sirius' face with a wide smile. "Do it," he taunted, "I dare you." He quickly moved to attack all of Sirius' exposed flesh with hot, wet kisses. It was exciting to know they would finish things this time.
Sirius spluttered in confusion as Remus' mouth and hands trailed under his shirt. This wasn't at all the reaction he had expected. "Are you insane, Rem?" he asked, trying not to get turned on by the werewolf's ministrations.
Remus was laughing again. "No, but you are if you honestly think anything you do will hurt me." He had reached Sirius' waistband and was making quick work of his belt and zipper.
Sirius was still mildly appalled by Remus' reaction, but he let it slip from his mind as the man's hand reached into his pants. If Remus truly wanted him to lose control and finish this for once, who was Sirius to say no? He felt the greatest surge of affection for his lover as he allowed himself to enjoy and participate in what Remus had started. In that moment, he was ecstatic that Remus had not chosen someone else in their time apart.
For the first time in many weeks, Sirius did not feel guilty as he bit down painfully hard on the lycanthrope's neck, refusing to relinquish his hold as Remus' voice cracked in pain. He did not allow himself to care as he dug his nails deep enough into Remus' hips to draw blood. He refused to acknowledge the pain he was causing the lycanthrope as he pushed himself deep inside him. He ignored the werewolf's harsh cries as Sirius took him hard and without preparation. His subconscious had taken over and every shout he elicited from Remus was like an apology to Sirius' angered and vengeful mind.
Remus did not protest. He had been through much worse and beneath it all, it was still Sirius above him. He knew things would get better after this. Everything between them would improve so greatly because of this minor amount of injury Sirius was subjecting him to. Underneath Remus' cries of pain, he was glad to give Sirius this opportunity. It was all out in the open now. Every one of Sirius' accusations and furious thoughts were being transferred and repaired with every agonizing thrust he forced into Remus. When it was all said and done, both men knew their relationship would stabilize again and both their hearts and minds would be at peace. Like old times.
Sorry if that was a little much. I just wanted to depict some specific things Remus and Sirius would have to overcome after the events of earlier chapters. These were the events I chose. I desperately hope you liked it. Thanks so much for reading!
