Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter or any related characters
A/N: A big thanks to Emmeebeewho took the time to correct all my mistakes! Also, Drifting17 for taking the time to read this short story. This chapter will answer your question! :)
And as usual, thanks to everyone who is reading.
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"Remus! Remus, come quick!"
"What is it?" Remus called. He had been lying on his bed staring at a single spot on the ceiling. Dumbledore had sent him to northern England on Order business. He was delighted that Dumbledore never sent him too far away. It would arouse too much suspicion to clear Portkeys with the Ministry, but the man always made it easy for him to return to his family at night. As his old Headmaster sent him on more and more werewolf-related business, he needed to try his best to be there for his son. He wasn't sure how long he would have left with him, not when he spent long hours in the presence of wolves who seemed to be convinced by what You-Know-Who had to offer them.
He rushed into their little living room at the sound of his girlfriend's voice. The room was full to the brim of plush cushions and lacy doilies. Definitely not to Remus' tastes at all! Constance held up a newspaper. His heart sank as he saw the front page. It felt as if something heavy had dropped in his stomach. Lily and James. Why where they on the front cover? They were in hiding! Remus had not seen James since that day at the Leaky Cauldron with Sirius, and he hadn't seen Lily since even before that! He had heard from her of course. They sent owls back and forth every so often to exchange any news, the odd gift. They weren't meant to be showing their faces in public. James had outright refused to meet Remus on multiple occasions, without so much as an apology, yet there they were, plastered on the front page of the Prophet.
"They're dead, Remus... Both of them."
Remus opened his mouth. He wanted to say something, or possibly he just wanted to scream. To tell Constance she was mental. He wasn't sure what he actually wanted to do. "How?" he managed to whisper.
"You-Know-Who got to them... And..."
"Sirius..." Remus growled. "Sirius. I knew it. And they thought it was me! Me! I knew that was why James wouldn't come to see me. Sirius got into his head!"
"Remus, please," Constance begged.
"No! Sirius betrayed them. He sold them to You-Know-Who! He lied to all of us!" Remus' grip tightened around the wand that in his hand. "And all the while, he was getting inside James' head, telling him it was me not to be trusted. Me!"
"Remus... I know, but please... Sit." Constance took her boyfriend gently by the arm and tried to ease him on to the little couch. The cushions were a complete nuisance, but they covered the tattered couch, and that was all Constance wanted. But Remus was annoyed; he was annoyed at Sirius, he was annoyed at himself, and he was annoyed at the stupid couch he couldn't even afford to replace. "I'll get you a calming draught -"
"I don't want one!" Remus spat angrily, not in the least bit embarrassed that he sounded like a toddler having a tantrum.
"Maybe, but you need one," Constance answered a little coolly. She tended to a shaking Remus, who refused to put the phial to his lips. Constance dabbed a wet cloth against his forehead, which he found oddly soothing. "According to the Prophet, You-Know-Who is gone..."
"How?"
"Harry stopped him," she answered shortly. "He's gone."
"How could Harry have stopped him? He's fifteen months old."
Constance shrugged. She had no answer to that. She knew about as much as Remus did. But according to the Daily Prophet, Harry Potter had defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
Thoughts rushed through Remus' mind at top speed. He couldn't process any of this information, and suddenly he just became overwhelmed. He pursed his lips and closed his eyes tight in an attempt to stop the tears that had suddenly erupted. His voice broke as he spoke. "Connie... It was Sirius. It was always Sirius, all along. How could he do this? To them? To me... It was Sirius..." He had grabbed her by the front of her robes which bunched up in his fists as he wept. She attempted to put her hands on his, to ease his pain, to at least let him know she was there for him, but he didn't seem to recognise any of it. All he could feel was a horrible constriction of his heart, as if it were about to explode. He really felt as if it would explode.
"Remus... I know, I know... But you need to calm down. Sirius... they'll catch Sirius. He'll be put away soon... Don't worry..."
"It's... It's not that. It's the fact... Sirius was my friend. Our friend. We trusted each other with our lives... I suppose at school... It was all just a joke... Not out here... Not in this world." He clung on to the front of her robes, as if for dear life, as he spluttered out words between heavy, rasping breaths. She tried to breathe louder, to get him in sync, to calm him down.
It worked momentarily, and Remus delved into an eerie silence, rocking back and forth in front of the fire as if he were a patient in an insane asylum. But it did not last long. Just as with the first bit of information, more was soon to follow that would send Remus' mind into further disarray. The next day, he would hear more news of poor unfortunate Peter Pettigrew, and how he was murdered in a street full of muggles.
"They... They're saying Peter went to find Sirius. To confront him," Constance whispered, as Remus sat on the couch, his head in his hands. Constance comfortingly rubbed his back. It was soothing, almost like a mother's touch. Little Conor lay in the Moses basket to her left, where she kept a close eye on him.
"Peter... Poor Peter. He always wanted to be brave... And he really was. Deep down, he had more courage than Sirius ever did. He really was a true Gryffindor... Sirius, on the other hand... You think you know someone..." Remus muttered into his hands. He spoke in a voice barely louder than a whisper. Poor little Peter, always so kind, always so sweet. Remus knew he would never hurt even a fly. He looked up to James and Sirius, and for what? To have devious Sirius Black murder him, as if they had never been friends, best friends, even brothers. The next day, Remus would hear more news of poor unfortunate Peter Pettigrew, and how he was murdered in a street full of muggles. But, in that moment, the news of his death was gut wrenching enough. The crackling of the fire and the little gurgles from their baby son were all that could be heard. Time had stopped in their forlorn little cottage. But outside, people were not resting; people were not sleeping.
Every so often, Remus would jump when someone let off a particularly loud firework.
"Those idiots will have all the Muggles suspicious," Constance said disapprovingly.
"They're happy. They didn't know Lily and James... They didn't know Peter... What do they have to be sad for?"
"Death is a sad thing... Even if it doesn't affect them directly, they should be in mourning," Constance said as evenly as she could. She hated seeing Remus in such a way, so sad, when the rest of the world was so happy. It seemed strange. How could something cause someone so much pain, then cause thousands of others so much joy?
"For them, they just lost You-Know-Who. They didn't lose four friends... Connie... I know... I know you're going to think I'm crazy... But I want to say it anyway." He inhaled deeply as Constance continued to draw circles on his back. "I... I won't ever be happy again... I'll never smile again. I'll never leave this house again -"
"You stop right now, Remus Lupin." She stopped tracing those comforting circles, and Remus instantly regretted what he had said. He wanted her touch. He wanted to be taken care of. This was excruciatingly painful, and he needed her there.
She had bent down low, and began fiddling with the Moses basket. If Remus had been alert, he would have reminded her that you never wake a sleeping baby. However, he was too caught up in mourning to even look at his son.
"Here. You hold him. And remember that this isn't the end of the world." Conor was fussing, irritated from being woken up. Generally, he was a happy baby; during the four short months he had been alive, he rarely cried. Now, however, he seemed fit to scream.
"No... I can't."
"Hold him," Constance insisted.
"No."
"Remus," Constance said sternly. Her voice sliced through him like a knife. It wasn't that he didn't want to hold Conor; he loved his little boy. He often felt pity for little Conor. James and Sirius were so tight knit that Sirius had become part of his children's lives. He bought gifts, treating them as if they were his own flesh and blood. When Conor was born, Lily was the only one who had taken notice. She sent a letter of congratulations and a gift. Small, it may have been, but it reminded Remus of who really loved him. Despite all of the accusations, she had cared, even a little bit... Conor deserved a lot more attention, and with that bitter thought, Remus picked his son out of Constance's grasp.
It instantly seemed to soothe Conor, whose fussing stopped. Constance smiled, as she believed that the contact was calming them both down. Remus hugged his little four month old close. The little heartbeat was steady, and its repetitiveness was relaxing.
"Connie?"
"Hmm?"
"What will happen? To the kids, I mean?"
She shrugged in response. As Sirius had been named Harry's Godfather, it was likely that if anything happened to Lily and James, it was likely that they had intended for Sirius to be in charge should anything happen to them. However, in this current situation, Remus wasn't sure. He was positive that James would never have let his name even grace his will. So it wasn't likely that the couple would ever find out. They weren't blood relatives, or even close friends at this stage, and it was likely that no one would bother to let them know of any developments with the children. It was probably safe to assume, however, that Lily's family were their only remaining living relatives.