Some memories required less alteration than others to delight the Azkaban guards.
James and Lily have invited their friends to a supper at their home in Godric's Hollow. Sirius's impression of the meal itself is shadowy and dreamlike. Tension, stilted conversation, few smiles. The event is punctuated by the wailing of little Harry.
Remus sits beside Sirius wearing the jumper that hugs his torso and the jeans that accentuate his arse, and it is not food that Sirius is hungry for.
Damn, he thinks for the dozenth time that day. How can I want him when he's the reason everything is so horrible right now?
And yet he can't help imagining taking Remus aside into a darkened corner, crushing his mouth in a kiss, and forcing him back onto their side.
Sirius is angry with himself for thinking such thoughts. Remus deserves to be punished, not kissed and touched and stoked and licked and -
No, don't even think it.
He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, trying to think instead about the fact that it smells like Harry is due for a nappy change, in the hope that that will cool him off.
He thinks also about the perfection of James's plan. It has to work; even Remus will think Sirius is the Secret-Keeper. He's probably just waiting until the charm is performed to make his move. Then he will knock Sirius on the head and drag him to Voldemort. But Sirius will not have the secret, and Peter will have all the time he needs to hide. It's brilliant. It might result in an infuriated Voldemort blasting him out of existence, but then he can die laughing in Remus's stupid, lying, traitorous face.
The thought fails to give him any satisfaction, and again he glances at Remus out of the corner of his eye.
Remus - so beautiful - Fuck!
He wishes he could stab the part of his brain that keeps thinking these things with a fork.
After the meal, Remus takes Harry out into the garden. Sirius wonders if this is wise, but James and Lily do not seem worried. Lily goes to the bedroom to lie down, and James, Peter and himself gather in the kitchen. The time has come at last for action.
Together, James and Sirius explain the Fidelius Charm and his place in the plan to Peter. If Peter agrees, the spell will be cast tomorrow, and only the three of them will know about the switch. Even Lily will be left in the dark until later. It is not long before Peter is as excited about the plan as James is. James always comes up with the best plans and pranks. Sirius wishes he had thought of this one first.
Something is wrong, though. When James goes to take Harry from Remus and say goodbye, there is a depth of emotion in his voice that even the trickster James Potter could never fake. Surely a sincere smile and a warm handshake or embrace would be sufficient to convince Remus that he is still a trusted member of their circle, so why the heartfelt "thank you"? Even the look of regret does not match what one would expect from a man looking upon someone who was once a friend, but no longer.
Sirius receives a grin and a conspiratorial wink in parting.
All the way home, James's parting words to Remus bother him. In a bout of paranoia, he had taken Peter aside before they departed, to make arrangements to check up on him in a few days, and make sure he is all right. Peter agrees with a reassuring smile. He is going to go into hiding as a rat in London. He tells Sirius where to meet him five days hence on the evening of Halloween.
That night, Sirius cannot sleep. A tearful Remus points out to him what it has taken until now for Sirius to realise: that the Potters must remain hidden until the danger passes, and who knows how long that may be? Sirius desperately wishes that he had taken the opportunity to talk to James about his suspicions regarding Remus. Now it is too late, and all he can think of are the myriad things assumed but left unsaid.
In the days that follow, less and less makes sense. Remus begins talking to him again. He suggests going into hiding to protect Sirius and the Potters' secret. Remus is always there; he never leaves the house except to go to the shops, and then he asks Sirius to come with him. It is as if he is afraid that if he lets Sirius out of his sight, something will happen - as though with James and Lily's disappearance from their lives, Remus has at last realised what is truly important.
Surely if he were planning to deliver Sirius to Voldemort, he would make some excuse to get away for a few hours to make contact with someone. But Sirius can account for all of Remus's time during that week. It is baffling.
Sirius's feeling of unease continues to grow as Remus becomes more openly affectionate and physical with him than he has been in months. He talks about how much he misses James and Lily, and how wonderful it will be when the war is over and everything can get back to normal. There is genuine longing in his eyes.
Could Sirius have been mistaken all this time? Could it not be Remus, after all? But if it's not, then something has gone very, very wrong. When he looks at Remus that night, it is as if a blindfold has been removed from his eyes. Remus - good and true and loyal - and suffering because of Sirius's suspicion of him.
It can't be Remus, he realises. Never Remus.
The only thing Remus ever wanted was to be loved and accepted, and Voldemort cannot offer him that. He has accepted his Lycanthropy, and learned to live with it. He would not trade in the lives of his friends for a normal life for himself, no more than Sirius himself would trade them in for - anything, really. There is nothing he wants that badly. No more would Peter trade them in for -
Safety? Popularity? Sirius tries to imagine what would happen if someone ruthless enough got to Peter and threatened him. Or offered him some measure of prestige. Or both. The thought makes him go cold all over.
If it is Peter, there is nothing he can do - no way he can find him until their arranged rendezvous tomorrow afternoon. If there's one thing Peter is exceptionally good at, it's hiding.
In the darkness of their bed that night, he makes love to Remus with a special tenderness that they have not shared for some time, serving him with his hands and mouth, and asking nothing in return. And afterwards, as they lie in one another's arms, Sirius says the words that always come so hard to him.
"I love you, Moony."
There is a shuddering sob in Remus's voice when he replies, "I love you, too, Padfoot. No matter what."
Halloween dawns, and Remus spends all day working on an elaborate anniversary dinner for them, but Sirius is on edge. The cold feeling has tightened into a knot in his midsection. He needs to get away, just for a little while, and check on Peter. Peter the coward. Peter who would never dream of going within a mile of a Death Eater. Unless it was Madeleine Yaxley. Shit. Peter would turn himself inside out for a look at Madeleine Yaxley's tits.
Sirius looks up from where he is sitting at the kitchen table to see Remus, head bent over his culinary masterpiece, hair falling in his eyes, the tip of his tongue just barely protruding from the corner of his mouth. Sirius's chest feels tight.
He has to go. Now. He has to see. And if it is Peter, there might be some trap awaiting him. He might not be coming back. The hell with that! He'll hex the little traitor into oblivion, and then go stand guard in front of James and Lily's house himself.
He stands, the scraping of his chair drawing Remus's eyes to him. For a moment he gazes at Remus, as if trying to memorise his features - as if he had not done so long ago. Remus looks puzzled. Sirius strides across the kitchen, grabs Remus by the shoulders and kisses him hard, pressing his body against him in silent promise.
I am going to fix this. I am going to make it all right.
He bites Remus's lip, tasting blood, then turns towards the door, making a vague excuse about going to get some wine.
As he revs his motorbike's engine, his mind is racing. Peter was always the one who had cracked under pressure from Filch and confessed everything when offered a lighter punishment. James, Remus, and Sirius himself always accepted the dire consequences of their actions when caught, rather than implicate their partners in crime. True, it rarely resulted in getting anyone out of trouble, but it was the principle of the thing.
Of all of them, Peter is the only one who might conceivably cave to Voldemort of his own accord. And Sirius has let James make him their Secret-Keeper. He has left his friends in terrible danger. It may be too late, even now. No. He cannot think that.
Mouth set in grim determination, he heads toward their rendezvous point. If Peter is there, Sirius is going to beat the shit out of him until he gets some answers. But what will he do if Peter is not there?
He will go to the Hollow. If he cannot see the house when he gets there, then everything is fine. The Fidelius Charm requires two people: the Secret-Keeper and the person who lives in the hidden dwelling. The charm is as much attached to James as to Peter. If James is okay, then the spell will still be in place. If he's not -
His motorbike touches down in a narrow, grubby Muggle alley. He is not meant to meet Peter here for another half hour, but surely if Peter is hiding nearby in his rodent form, he will see Sirius and attract his attention somehow. The minutes crawl by and Peter does not appear. Sirius prowls the alley, sometimes on two legs, and sometimes as Padfoot, nervously flickering between forms.
When the second hand of his silver pocket watch ticks across the appointed time, Sirius knows he cannot wait a moment longer. Peter is not here, which means something has gone seriously wrong. Either Peter is the traitor as Sirius suspects, or Peter is in danger. Either possibility means the same thing in the end: the Potters are no longer safe.
The engine of Sirius's bike roars into life and he pushes it to its limit, cold night air whistling past his ears, hoping against hope that he will not be too late.
The sun has long since set by the time he catches sight of the winking lights of Godric's Hollow, but he does not need light to see the thick cloud of smoke rising over the sleepy little village and blotting out the stars.
It is not the Dark Mark, but the sight of it still chills Sirius to his bones. He tries very hard not to see anything or make any assumptions until he is on the ground, but the smoking rubble, which only a week before had been his friends' home, is hard to miss.
Ignoring the possibility that danger might still be lurking, Sirius runs toward the remains of the house.
"Prongs! Lily!" he shouts, refusing to accept what must be the truth.
A leg protrudes from under a collapsed wall where the kitchen used to be.
"Prongs!" he cries. "Hang on, mate! Don't move! I'll get you out."
At first he tries to lift the wall with his own strength, but it is not enough. He draws his wand and desperately shouts, "Wingardium Leviosa!"
Slowly, the wall rises, and he casts it to one side with an impatient flick of his wand before falling to his knees beside the body of his best friend. James's hazel eyes are wide and staring, a look of shock and terror permanently etched on his face. His body is bruised and bloodied, and the collapsing wall has broken his nose.
Sirius takes his friend's cold hand in his own and weeps. "Prongs! James, I'm sorry! It was Peter. I should have known. I shouldn't have let you make anyone but me your Secret-Keeper. And now you wouldn't be -" But he can't say it. Not yet.
As his voice trails off, he becomes aware for the first time of a sound - constant, high-pitched - hanging over the ruins of the house. The wailing cry of an infant.
White with shock, Sirius stands, staring around frantically.
"Harry! Harry!" he cries, knowing that the baby will not answer. He begins desperately combing the rubble for the source of the cries. "Please be all right, Harry. Please, God, let him be all right -" he prays over and over again.
He finds Lily's body before he finds the baby, but there is no helping her any more than James. He touches her cheek and sheds a tear in passing before stepping over her into the remains of Harry's nursery.
His cot has collapsed in, a portion of it shielding him from larger pieces of falling wreckage. Sirius tears away the broken pieces of the bed and sweeps the baby up into his arms, clutching him against his shoulder, eyes shut tight with relief.
"Thank God!" he whispers. "Hush, Harry. You're all right. Uncle Padfoot has got you. You're safe."
He holds Harry out at arm's length to make sure of the truth of his words. The baby has a nasty-looking gash on his forehead, and blood has matted in the tufts of his black hair, but he is otherwise unharmed.
Sirius sits down amid the wreckage, crooning softly to Harry and rocking him gently. It is too late to help James and Lily, and for this one moment, nothing in the world seems more pressing that quieting the fears of the infant who now has only Sirius and Remus to care for him in all the world.
It is a chilly autumn night, and Sirius leans to free a woolen blanket from beneath a pile of crumbled plaster and broken toys. His eye falls upon the toy Snitch he and Remus gave Harry last Christmas. Surprisingly, it is undamaged. He tucks the blanket careful around Harry and picks up the toy to shows to him.
Harry's cries are beginning to trail off, and when he sees the favourite toy, he stops with a hiccough, looking uncertain.
Sirius smiles sadly at the boy. "That's right Harry. We're going to take your Snitch and go to Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony's house. Do you want to fly on Uncle Padfoot's bike?"
The baby's eyes light up. "Fie?" He has ridden with Sirius a number of times before, shrieking with delight from the carrying pouch strapped to his godfather's chest.
"Yes, Harry. We're going to fly to London tonight. It's a long way, but Uncle Moony will be pleased to know you're safe."
"Mooooooony!" crows the baby, clapping his fat little hands together.
Sirius is just standing up when he hears crunching footsteps on the gravel path leading up to the house. He spins around, clutching the baby to his shoulder with one arm and drawing his wand with the other.
"Who's there?" his voice is hoarse in his throat.
"Alrigh' Sirius. It's on'y me," says Hagrid. The big man's face is red and tear-streaked. He is fond of James and Lily.
"What are you doing here, Hagrid?" Sirius asks, lowering the wand and turning half his attention back to the baby, who is whimpering again.
"Dumbledore sent me," Hagrid says uncertainly. "Ter fetch Harry."
"Oh," Sirius says in surprise.
He does not stop to wonder how Dumbledore knows what has happened. Dumbledore always knows. Except about Peter. He didn't know that.
"But I'm his godfather," Sirius protests. "Harry should come with me."
"Dumbledore's orders," Hagrid shrugs sorrowfully. "Says I'm ter take the baby to 'im. He's ter live with his aunt and uncle in Surrey."
"Aunt and uncle?" It takes Sirius a moment to realise to whom Hagrid is referring. His mouth drops open in horror. "Not that sister of Lily's! Those Muggles? They'll never treat him properly! He's much better off with me and Remus," he pleads.
"You'll have ter take that up with Dumbledore," Hagrid insists stubbornly. "Give Harry ter me, Sirius."
Tears are slipping down Sirius's cheeks now. James and Lily are dead. And now Harry is being taken from him as well. The Dursleys will never let him visit the boy. It's not fair that he should lose so much so dear to his heart in one night.
This is all Peter's fault. Fury flares white-hot in his chest, burning the tears out of him.
"All right," he says. "You take him, Hagrid. I have something to attend to."
He gives Harry a final hug, whispering to him, "I'll be looking out for you, Harry. Your Uncle Padfoot won't abandon you to those Muggles."
As he hands the baby over to Hagrid, he says, "Take my bike. I won't be needing it."
It does not seem important any longer. Without Harry to delight, half the joy of owning a flying motorbike is gone. Besides, Hagrid can't Apparate with an infant.
Hagrid nods his thanks and bids him farewell, shedding a few more tears and offering fumbled words of comfort, which Sirius accepts with a sad but grateful smile. Sirius watches his favourite possession and its precious cargo disappear into the night sky. It is only when they have gone that he realises he is still holding the toy Snitch.
Sirius searches the wreckage, trying to avoid looking at his friends' bodies, until he manages to uncover James's prized racing broom, which has fortunately sustained little damage.
He knows he will have to go to Remus soon and tell him what has happened, but the thought of Remus's reaction to the news is too awful to contemplate, and so he puts it off.
He is amazed at how clear his mind is. He has to find Peter, first and foremost, and the broom will be the best way. The Marauders have almost an extra sense when it comes to locating one another, and he can use that sense to guide the broom more easily than he could have with the bike, or by Apparition.
As the broom carries him over fields, pastures and villages, heading ever southeast, gray dawn begins to tinge the horizon. By the time he is over the city, it is light enough to make out the suburban houses gradually giving way to office buildings and shops.
Peter is near. He can sense him. He touches down in an empty street, and turns a corner to find a dozen or so vendors setting up their stalls for a street market. As he goes about, asking them one by one if they have seen a short, blond man, or maybe any rats in the street that morning, customers begin to trickle in. No one has seen anyone matching either of Peter's descriptions.
He begins to search the dark corners and alleys. Muggles are giving him wary looks.
They think I'm mad. They're not far wrong.
But he can find no sign of the traitor until -
"Sirius Black," calls a voice, high-pitched with fear.
He looks up. There, standing not twenty paces from him in the middle of the crowded marketplace, is Peter Pettigrew. He looks frightened, and there is a manic gleam in his eyes. His hair is tousled and his clothes are rumpled as if he has slept in them.
Sirius is startled by his sudden appearance - so much so that before he can reply, Peter is speaking again.
"James and Lily!" he cries, loudly enough for half the street to hear. "You killed them, Sirius! How could you?"
Sirius stares at him, mouth open in shock. "How could I -?" The implication of Peter's accusation suddenly hits him. "Why, you little -" he begins, drawing his wand.
But he is too late. Before he can so much as think of an appropriate hex, there is a flash of green light, and a sound like a thunderclap. Sirius is half blinded by the explosion, but does not miss the rat scurrying away from the crater in the street and down into the sewers.
Sirius is frozen with shock. All around him, Muggles are screaming. There is blood everywhere.
I don't believe it, he thinks. The Fidelius Charm. The Secret-Keeper switch. Letting me find him. Making a big, public scene. He planned it all. No one knows it was him, and no one knows he's an Animagus. They're all going to think it was me! Even Remus -
All at once, the lack of sleep, the constant stress of the past months, the overwhelming horror of the day, and the shock of his current situation hits him. He begins to laugh uncontrollably. He finds the whole thing suddenly, horribly, unbearably funny. People are staring at him in fear and horror as hysterical sobs of laughter wrack his body.
He is still laughing when Magical Law Enforcement arrives, moments later. He does not even try to resist as they bind him with handcuffs and spells and take his wand from his trembling fingers.
But when they turn to take him to the waiting Ministry van, the laughter dies on his lips. Kneeling on the pavement no farther from him that Peter had stood, is Remus. His face is dead white - Like James, the thought comes unbidden to Sirius's mind - denial is shining in his soft brown eyes, and his mouth is open in a silent cry of anguish.
Only then does Sirius begin to struggle - trying to get away from these Ministry stooges and go to Remus - to take his face between his hands and tell him the truth, because nothing else matters now, so long as Remus knows he is innocent - so long as Remus believes him.
But the spells bind him too tightly for struggle to do any good, and he cannot go to Remus. And Remus does not come to him. Their eyes remain locked until the van doors close.
Sirius does not see Remus again.