Motorcade (So Long, So Long)

I can see the motorcade

The sirens weep and the flowers have been laid

So long, so long

.

For the first time in his memory, Number 12 Grimmauld Place is silent. He hates it.

There is no screeching Mrs. Black, because he succeeded in entering without awaking her. There is no Kreacher grumbling under his breath about the purity of his blood. There is no Mrs. Weasley bustling about in the kitchen.

There is also no Sirius, and this, more than anything else, scares him.

The Order had a small memorial service, as there was no body to bury. It was extremely morbid; everyone had dressed in black and cried. It wasn't the way he would have wanted to go. Had James still been alive, there would have been a hell of a party, and that he is sure of.

And then it hits him with a striking finality: he, Remus Lupin, is the last Marauder.

The weight of it causes him to stumble and fall; he sits awkwardly against the wall in the hallway. He feels empty inside, and this, too, is a first. He is accustomed to feeling guilt, shame, surprise; emptiness is not in his repertoire.

It amazes him that he can be himself. He barely knows these boys, James, Peter, and Sirius, and yet he feels almost completely normal. As normal as a werewolf can really feel, anyway. Three boys—can he call them friends? does a werewolf deserve that right?—have accepted him, have embraced him. How strange.

He tries several times to pick himself off the floor. When he finally succeeds, he finds that he cannot support his own weight without holding onto the stair post. He takes a deep breath, straightens himself, and heads upstairs.

The walk is slow because he keeps distracting himself with the smallest things. A picture hangs in the hallway. It features the Blacks, and even now the picture-Sirius stands away from his family, a frown etched deeply into his face.

"Sirius," he breathes, and he finds himself grabbing at the tiny Sirius, willing him to be the real one and to step out of the frame and back into his life.

The night that Sirius finds out about his lycanthropy is the first time he seriously considers leaving Hogwarts.

His friend catches him returning in the early morning hours, nursing a painful bite on his forearm.

"Dog?" he asks from his bed.

Remus jumps, not knowing he was awake.

"Yes," he says, and he struggles to remember what his excuse for leaving yesterday was. "My aunt has a spaniel with quite the set of jaws. I think I upset him when I came too near to his food."

"Please don't lie to me, Remus," answers Sirius. "I know."

Remus isn't sure whether to keep lying or to give in. "Know about what?"

"You're a werewolf."

He tears himself away from the picture and keeps walking, slowly, heavily. It takes him twice as long as it should to finally reach Sirius' room. He enters, and immediately a wave of nostalgia hits him. It is only then that it occurs to him that he has never been in this room. He smiles bitterly at the posters of the Muggle girls. He shakes his head and thinks to himself, only Sirius. Awkwardly he sits on the bed and takes everything in. It is then that he notices the picture of the Marauders.

He wanted desperately to deny it, but his rationality refused. "How long have you known?"

"Not long," he admits.

There is a long silence, and Remus supposes that Sirius is considering going to Dumbledore right then and requesting that he be removed. He sighs heavily and goes to sit on his bed. Ashamedly he looks out the window. "If you want me gone, I'll go."

The picture was taken in their fourth year, just before they left for the summer. James was only partially paying attention, because he had wanted to say goodbye to Lily before she left. His picture self kept looking distractedly to the side. Peter looked bewildered, as he usually did, to be hanging out with James Potter. He kept smiling weirdly. Sirius had thrown his arms around both Peter and Remus and kept jokingly trying to make them do a kickline with him. Remus' heart pounds loudly as he watches. He wants to scream out, wants to curse and kick until someone finally brings Sirius back to him. He finally crumples to the floor, still holding the frame.

Another long silence ensues in which Remus does everything he can to keep himself from crying. He should have known this was coming; it was only a matter of time.

"Why would I want you gone?" Sirius' voice is closer than it should be, and Remus jumps when he realizes his friend is sitting right next to him.

"I'm a werewolf," he says bitterly. "The scum of Wizarding society, a filthy half-breed, a bloodthirsty animal. Why would you want me here?"

"Because you're my friend, and that's what matters, isn't it?"

Remus dares to look up at Sirius, whose eyes glittered with sincerity.

"Yeah," he answers. "Yeah, I guess."

Sirius puts an arm around him. "That's what I thought."

For the first time in a very long time, Remus cries.

Author's Note: Yes, I know Peter is still alive at this point. For all intents and purposes, however, he is dead because he has betrayed his friends and forsaken them for a lifetime of servitude to Voldemort.