This story begins in 1981 and will span the decade and change until Harry's first year at Hogwarts. There will likely be smut later on, and I'll up the rating then.
It may take a while, but Remus and Sirius will end up together in the end! James and Lily remain significant characters beyond the inciting incident shown here, and their relationship will be present enough to warrant being tagged, I promise. I will tag more characters as they appear.
Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!
When the big silver dog streaked down from the sky, Remus didn't care that every cowled and scowling head in the pub turned toward him.
His weeks spent ingratiating himself to the hags, vampires, and other werewolves of the Highlands, wasted the moment the Patronus burst through the nicotine-streaked window and barked, "Godric's Hollow." And yet, Remus couldn't be sorry about that over the roaring in his ears, fear and hope bouncing around in him like death caps and dragon's blood.
He darted out of the pub, hardly stopping long enough to catch his breath before concentrating on a home that until moments ago he couldn't quite recall the precise location of. He closed his eyes, and in that last moment before the nauseating lurch and all-encompassing compression took him, the red sparks of someone's celebratory fireworks blossomed behind his eyelids.
He Apparated with none of the careful planning and positioning learned from years at war (from, when he let himself remember the why, the murder and dismembering of Benjy Fenwick after a landing gone wrong). Instead, with a careless single jump he travelled from the north of Scotland well over five hundred miles south to the Potters' home in West Country.
It was much warmer here; rain pooled in the leafy neighborhood's neat gutters where it would have been snow for Remus just ten minutes ago. The house he'd spent golden summers with James and the rest in stood smoking in front of him, the roof half destroyed by a terrible dark magic. Debris smoked slightly where it had landed in the garden; a cat streaked out from under a mangled bush.
He pushed past the gate and ran to the front door. Slightly ajar, it gave way to a room full of living, breathing people, everyone he had hoped with increasing hubris that would survive this war.
James and Lily, Harry squalling in his father's arms with his forehead bandaged, Peter, sitting on the sofa, and Sirius, who he couldn't quite stand to look at, but everything was as it should be, except—
Remus's gaze slid back to Peter, slumped against the couch cushions, eyes fixed and unmoving at a point behind Remus's head. He had seen this by now, had watched it happen, even, but somehow, he'd never imagined that Peter, who slipped out of every scrape and wormed his way out of every consequence, would be felled by the Killing Curse.
The black hole recently awakened by his mother's death (impossibly, in these dark times, of Muggle disease) threatened to engulf him; he shoved it away, blinking several times and turning to James, Lily, and Sirius. His best friends in the world. His boyfriend, if he dared to still call Sirius that.
"What happened?" he asked, surprising even himself with his stability.
The statues came to life all at once, James and Lily and Sirius's voices overlapping as they rose to tell the story.
James won out. "Worm—Peter was the spy. He betrayed us to Voldemort, but he regretted it enough to—"
James cut himself off, frowning in that heavy way that meant he was trying not to cry; he'd developed it in second year after one too many accusations of being a mummy's boy.
Sirius strode over to Remus, gripping his arms tightly enough to pass for intimacy. Despite Peter's corpse not five feet away, a strange elation shone through the other man's grim demeanor. Remus swallowed the urge to flinch; the last time Remus had been this close to Sirius, Sirius had been screaming at him.
He forced his gaze away from that intense gaze and looked at Lily, who continued speaking.
"He came over before the trick and treaters," said Lily, dry eyes betrayed by tears still tracked on her cheeks. "He wanted to check in, he said, and he drugged our tea, James and I, before moving us out of the way. When Voldemort came to our house, Peter stood in front of Harry and— and Voldemort killed him."
She took a great shuddering breath, looking back at the still figure on the sofa.
"When he tried to kill Harry, it backfired on him," said James.
His messy black hair and earnest bespectacled face was animated with mingled relief and pain, so different than the stony expression that had settled over his features the last few times Remus had seen him. It was impossible that the life of this man who stood there bouncing his young son in his arms had hinged on the loyalty of a rat.
"I don't know if Voldemort's really dead or not, but it destroyed him. He's gone," said James. "We woke up to Harry crying and Peter— Peter was dead upstairs."
Voldemort dead, or gone. Either way, a reprieve. Months of being picked off one by one, over; James and Lily finally safe to raise their son. No more weeks courting dark creatures in remote locales; he could go back to the flat, maybe even with Sirius beside him.
But Harry was crying.
"Harry's injured," said Remus.
"Voldemort—the attack left a scar," said Lily. "He's okay, otherwise. He survived the Killing Curse with just a scar."
She clapped a hand over her mouth, muffling a sob. Remus pulled out of Sirius's grip, approaching her; seeing her cry was like being thirteen again, the two of them kicking their legs off the side of the north bridge while they traded secrets.
"I'm sorry either of you had to go through this," said Remus. "Harry's safe now, though. Just keep reminding yourself of that."
Lily nodded, eyes downcast.
"And Peter paid for his betrayal with…" Remus trailed off as he met Sirius's friendly gaze.
It had been neither doe nor stag, but Sirius's silver dog, that had called him there. Sirius had gotten there before Remus, who'd arrived with debris still smoking, Peter dead on the couch, and Sirius nearly beaming.
When Remus had last spoken to James, he'd told Remus about the Fidelius Charm.
But he'd said Sirius was the Secret Keeper.
The warm joy spreading through him snuffed out, just like that.
"You thought I was the spy," he said.
Lily's face crumpled. James wrapped his free arm around her, looking at Remus with shame lettered across his face.
"You made Peter the Secret Keeper. You bet your lives on it," he said. "And you didn't tell me."
James and Lily would not have been the first blood on Peter's hands. Edgar, murdered with his wife and three children, the youngest smaller than Harry now. Caradoc, disappeared on a routine surveillance mission. Marlene and her family laid out like dolls in that big empty house.
The blown-out street where five Death Eaters had overpowered the Prewett brothers that Remus still saw in his nightmares.
Remus looked at that plump, dead face and fought off a wave of revulsion.
"You thought I spent Fabian Prewett's final moments pushing his intestines back inside just to make sure I'd finished him off, did you?" said Remus harshly.
"We thought you might have confided in the wrong person," said James, drawing himself to his full height.
Remus did the same. He was the tallest of the four by far, something he'd always let them forget. Sometimes they'd even teased him for it.
"What kind of wrong person?" asked Remus, meeting James's gaze with hard eyes. "Tell me, Prongs. What kind of people do I know that Peter didn't?"
Lily was sobbing now, a furious sound that would have brought Remus to her on any other night, in any other circumstance. He wished this was happening anywhere but this living room, where Effie and Monty's ghosts yet lingered amongst their chintz lamps and threadbare rugs.
"Remus," said Sirius, reaching for him. "It's not like that, we were trying to be safe—"
"Don't touch me," he snapped, backing up.
Fury thrummed through him, immediately and inevitably drummed back down by the reminder that he couldn't lose his temper, not ever, not even with James and Lily. Even, as it turned out, with Sirius.
The anger drained from him, replaced by a cold, hard emptiness, the kind that made his vision dull and unreal. He needed to leave this place.
"James, Lily," he said, proud of how smooth, even kindly, his voice was. "I'm so happy you're safe. I'm so happy Harry's safe."
Remus approached Lily after all, embracing her quickly and drawing away before her arms could fully envelop him. For James, it was a one-armed hug; for Harry, a kiss on the head, his insides catching flame at the idea of saying goodbye to him forever. Sirius hovered behind him, puppylike, aware that something had gone wrong but not quite sure what; even less so of how to fix it.
"I'm so sorry, Remus," said Lily through her tears. "We should never have…we got lucky that Peter…"
"I'm grateful he cared enough about the people in this room to stand up for what was right," said Remus. "I wish you all the best."
He paused, swallowing a thousand things he wanted to say, half crueler than they deserved, the other half kinder. James and Lily saw the hesitation and braced themselves, but Remus walked out of the Potters' living room instead, calmer now than when he'd walked in.
A few more steps, and he could Apparate away. A few more steps, and he could be by himself, somewhere the chill air didn't scald.
"Moony!"
He should have known better to walk away from Sirius Black and expect to get away from it. He stopped halfway to the fence.
An anxious grin split the shadows across Sirius's face. "Voldemort's gone!"
"Peter's dead," said Remus. "Show some bloody respect."
"Bugger Peter," said Sirius. "He was the spy, wasn't he? Doesn't deserve respect anymore."
"I suppose that makes sense," spat Remus. "You didn't need to respect me to keep fucking me."
Sirius stumbled backwards, eyes wide.
"It's not like that," whined Sirius so plaintively that Remus could hear Padfoot's signature note mixed in.
"What is it like, then?" said Remus. "You thought we'd just pick things up like before? War's over, turns out Moony is innocent, back to business?"
Sirius's gaping stare was all the confirmation Remus needed.
"Bloody hell, Sirius, I've always known you rely on my lack of self-esteem, but how pathetic do you think I am?"
"I don't think you're pathetic—"
"Padfoot nearly gets Moony sent to Azkaban, Moony forgives him. Padfoot thinks Moony is the spy, but don't worry, Moony forgives him," said Remus, practically, but not actually, snarling, because he cannot let himself show how angry he truly is. "Padfoot says jump, Moony says how high. That's how the story always ends with you."
Sirius reached for Remus's arm for the third time that night; Remus wrenched it away. More than ever, his touch now would scald.
"Moony," he said. "Remus. Please come home with me. We'll talk about it."
"There's only one question to ask," said Remus.
Sirius paused, waiting for Remus's next words. How often he'd daydreamed of such a thing in school.
"Why did you trust Peter Pettigrew instead of me?" said Remus.
Sirius's full lips parted, but nothing came out. Framed by the light of Lily and James's door behind him, Remus could see Sirius's wavy black hair tumbling over his shoulders, the rest of his face obscured by darkness. He could have closed his eyes and traced those features perfectly: the thick, long eyelashes and carved cheekbones that had drawn him in since he was just a boy.
If only Sirius would just give him a reason.
"Remus," said Sirius. "I love you. Doesn't that count for anything?"
Like in all things, Remus let his heart shatter quietly.
"Don't you see how much worse that makes it?" he replied.
When Sirius reached for him a fourth time, he Disapparated.
It won't stay this upsetting, I promise. (But it won't be okay too soon, either.)
This is my first time back to posting fanfic in a couple of years, but my first time posting about Harry Potter in a LONG time. It's good to be back.
If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know! :)
P.S. Trivia of the day: wizards don't use the metric system, because the International Statute of Secrecy was passed before Britain switched over from Imperial.
P.P.S. Remus's path to come is inspired by Ignipes' Man-eaters of Kumaon and their assorted similar stories. At least, I think it is; it's certainly inspired by a similar fic series I read about fifteen years ago, and the idea of what Remus Lupin looks like at his most confident and self-possessed has lived in my heart ever since.
I say I think because I haven't reread Ignipes' work, as I'm trying to keep this story my own. If you read something similar that also has vampires in it, let me know. I just really feel like there were vampires.