A/N: Warnings include but not limited to: Time Travel, Canon-Divergence, Blood & Violence, Explicit Language, MM,FF, possible poly, and Het Pairings, Marauder's Era, PTSD, Anxiety, Panic Attacks.
I wasn't delighted with this chapter's flow, and yet didn't want to ruin it by overthinking, so I hope it reads as intended ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
In the letter Remus writes, because FFnet doesn't allow the strikethrough, the parts where you see *Pro*, *Pads* represents him scratching those words out.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to the Harry Potter Universe and characters created by J.K Rowling or Warner Brothers. Standard disclaimer applies for each chapter.
Taking a Breath
Remus floated in a void, the darkness pressing in on all sides, a suffocating shroud that swallowed his every thought.
Whispers slithered through the blackness, indistinct, taunting.
His heart pounded in his ears; each beat a drum of dread.
The archway loomed above him, stretching impossibly and gaping wider as it swallowed him.
He saw Sirius's face, twisted and screaming, but no sound came.
Remus reached out, but his limbs moved as if through treacle, slow and heavy.
Then Sirius was pulled away, vanishing into the black, his eyes wide with terror as Remus's hand grasped empty air, fingers clawing at nothing.
Panic welled up, a scream building in his throat, but he couldn't release it.
The shadows thickened, squeezing the air from his lungs.
Faces loomed out of the darkness, grotesque and warped, mouths moving.
His father's eyes were filled with guilt.
His mother's fading smile.
Remus's throat tightened, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
James, Lily, Marlene, Dorcas, Sirius, and so many others, all staring with hollow eyes.
"You let us die," they chanted, a haunting chorus that tore at his soul. "You let us die."
He tried to scream, to deny their accusations, but his voice was gone, stolen by the darkness.
The weight of guilt and regret pressed down, suffocating and inescapable, and he was falling.
He landed with a bone-jarring thud, the impact sending shockwaves of pain through his body.
Chains clinked, and he realized his wrists were bound, the metal biting into his skin.
Struggling was useless, the chains were unyielding.
Why were there always chains?
A light flickered in the distance.
Hope?
Salvation?
He strained towards it, the chains dragging him back.
The darkness rippled, and he was standing before Hogwarts.
The Great Hall opened, filled with laughter and warmth.
A moment of peace.
Then, it changed.
The laughter turned to screams, the warmth to a raging fire.
He started to run, always running, but never fast enough.
He could hear something moving in the shadows.
He was trapped, the Forbidden Forest reaching out and closing in around him.
He stumbled, falling to his knees.
Out of the fog, a figure emerged, hunched and almost animalistic.
Terror sliced like a knife down his spine at the familiar features gleaming maliciously.
Remus tried to move, to run, but his legs were heavy, immobile.
Greyback reached out, mouth grinning, claws extended, and—
"…No."
Suddenly, he bolted upright, awake, his breath coming in ragged, uneven bursts.
The cold sweat on his skin felt like ice, and his heart raced with an intensity that made it feel like he was spinning.
The remnants of the nightmare clung to him, fading as the cold reality of his small, dimly lit room came into focus.
"Fuck."
A sob left his lips and he shuddered, slumping back against his pillows.
A mirthless laugh followed; he bit his lip, amber eyes stubbornly shut to avoid the sliver of moonlight that filtered through his curtains.
Guess sleep is off the cards again tonight…
A week had passed since Remus first woke up in the cellar, and the days that followed were marked by exhaustion and fever.
He often lay in bed, overwhelmed by the weight of his memories and uncertain of his next steps, while the world outside seemed distant and unreachable.
Considering he's seen five sunrises and it's still 1976, Remus has resolved in his mind that he's definitely in the past.
It's a realisation that doesn't exactly erase the anxiety and trauma from his past years or stop the recurring nightmares...
Each dawn, the light filtering through his childhood bedroom window reassures him that this surreal reality is real, offering small comfort amidst his turbulent emotions.
He finds himself spending hours each morning simply gazing at the familiar Yorkshire landscape—the rolling hills, a distant wood, and the small town on the horizon.
Below Remus's window is the modest vegetable garden his mother tends daily with care.
It's all exactly as he remembers.
Before all the tragedy and long years of poverty, before the deaths of most of his loved ones, and before war ravaged the British wizarding community.
The house is comforting, warm, and filled with the soft murmur of everyday life, unlike the dilapidated cottage it later became.
Remus sighs softly.
That first night had been a mix of confusion.
The moment his brain had registered the possibility of being in the past, hysteria gripped him like a cold vice, and his sobs brought his parents running.
He had cried himself hoarse as he tried and failed to explain to his worried parents the reason for his tears.
Their bewildered concern had only made his chest tighter, verging on panic, but eventually, the tears subsided, leaving him with a strange, conflicted relief.
After a round of anxious fussing from his mother, he'd managed to pass it off as stress from the OWLs and the lingering effects of the full moon, though he knew they remained unconvinced if their shared glances each morning at breakfast were anything to go by.
His mother's worry was especially palpable, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her apron as she hovered around him whenever he managed to leave his room.
Remus sighs again, resting his forehead against his window, the glass causing a cool sensation on his warm skin.
In the quiet that followed his breakdown, he'd questioned the how or why of his circumstances with a clearer mind.
His thoughts tangled with curiosity and unease as he spent hours racking his memories for information on the Department of Mysteries, yielding only fragmented sensations and fleeting images of what he saw before he fell.
The steep steps like an amphitheatre, surrounding the dais with its ancient-looking archway, and the unnatural cold of the room that seeped into your skin and chilled your bones.
The Death Room, his mind whispered, recalling a conversation with Dorcas Meadowes, when she'd become a newly appointed Unspeakable trainee, and spent hours excitedly rambling about the unknown magics she'd be able to learn.
His heart lurched at the memory of Dorcas before he boxed up his sadness and loss and tried to rationalise his present situation.
Theories swirled in his mind—time travel, alternate dimensions, and the possibility of ancient magic.
Could the archway truly have been related to death?
Had he died?
And if so, how had his soul somehow ended up back in time?
Why this year?
Was it the work of magic or happenstance?
Remus's thoughts circled without any resolution.
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
Regardless of how he'd quickly decided not to question the nature of his time travel too deeply.
Despite the heartbreak of what he'd left behind, Remus found himself not wanting to return.
He could save his friends.
Protect Sirius.
Make life better for Harry.
The chance to change history was simply too compelling to ignore, even with the risk of unknown consequences.
Who wouldn't choose to make a difference if given a second chance? He wondered.
"Remus, lunch is ready!" his mother's voice calls from downstairs, breaking his reverie.
He groans slightly, gets up from his window perch, and heads to the kitchen, greeted by the scent of freshly baked bread and soup.
Hope Lupin bustles about, setting the table.
"You could have called me to help, Mum." He says it softly before sitting down.
"Can you let me fuss over you? Your fever just broke yesterday," she says with a cheeky smile. "Besides, you'll be seventeen soon. What will I do then with a handsome young man too old to be coddled?"
"I'll never be too old for your fussing," Remus answers quietly, biting back tears.
His mother will leave him soon after he turns seventeen…
"How are you today, love?" She asks as she dishes up, her eyes filled with concern. "You've been awfully quiet."
Remus wordlessly takes the bowl she offers.
He knows what she's implying.
He's subdued in a way he hasn't been since he was much younger and still lonely.
"I haven't seen you reading as much as you used to." She adds, joining him at the table with her own food. "Your father even mentioned possibly taking you to Diagon early."
"Why?" Remus asked, feeling a bit startled.
"He thought a trip to the bookstore might cheer you up."
Remus was confused at the unnecessary expense, especially when their family had to budget so carefully.
His father's work as a private contractor, after leaving the Ministry to better protect Remus's secret, meant they had to be mindful of every Knut.
"That's really not necessary, Mum." He says, feeling awkward, though a part of him flushes with affection for his parents. "We can go to Diagon as usual. I'm truly fine."
His mother rolls her eyes.
"You are most definitely not fine, Remus." She tells him with a slight glare. "I let you get away with your delay tactics, but don't you lie directly to my face."
Remus winced.
"Sorry, Mum."
Hope Lupin sighs, putting down her spoon and reaching over to grasp her son's hand.
He had always kept his worries to himself, hiding his troubles to spare them from additional stress, growing up far too quickly for her liking.
She fretted over his well-being daily, torn between wanting to protect him and taking pride in his growth despite life's hurdles.
"Come on, love, tell me what's going on. You've been out of sorts ever since you stepped off the train, and it's only got worse after the moon."
Remus relishes the warmth of her hand and the comfort it brings him as he debates his response.
He can't talk about time travel or the future with anyone, at least not outright, if he wants to avoid unnecessary scrutiny or the possibility of being seen as crazy.
But he knows he must give her some explanation.
He's not the Remus he was at sixteen, and people are going to notice the differences.
This leaves him talking about the events that happened during school, something he had never done previously.
Too scared to upset his friends…too scared to worry his parents…Unwilling to sour Dumbledore's goodwill in letting him attend Hogwarts…
Too stubborn and prideful to admit that he needed help…or that he was hurting.
Remus smothers the slight bitterness that rises.
Merlin, he really had been so foolish.
"I had a fight, well, not really a fight. Something happened…and now I am feeling on the outs a bit with my friends," he answers vaguely, stirring his soup. "I'm not sure what to do."
Hope Lupin gives him a sympathetic look.
She knows just how much Remus cherishes the friendships he's made.
"I had wondered why you hadn't asked to visit James. Is it not something you boys can talk about?" She asks while watching her son frown.
Remus shrugs.
While he knows he cannot be the same person he was before, the old fears and uncertainty linger, and he stumbles to find the words needed.
"Sirius did something stupid." He answered carefully. "Part of me just wants to brush it off and move forward but there's also a part of me that's hurting and wants to shake him silly for being an idiot."
Even though it's only part of the story, Remus realises it's the truth.
Before he'd just sulked for a few days of the holiday and let the fear of confrontation and larger fallout lead to him just letting it all go, even when the tang of betrayal and fear festered beneath the surface, rising every now and then on his darker days and slowly poisoning their friendship.
It's no wonder they'd struggled so much with trust in the early days of the war.
His parents don't even know that the Marauders are aware of his affliction.
Driven by their desire to protect him from the wizarding community's prejudice, they had always insisted he never reveal his werewolf nature.
Remus had followed this rule all his life until he befriended James, Sirius, and Peter, whose acceptance of his dark nature was a profound relief compared to the constant secrets that had defined his existence.
Dumbledore might have been his doorway to hope, but his friends had truly been the light that showed him life didn't have to be lived in solitude.
Remus sighed.
"I hate having a fight with any of them. It scares me." He whispered. "I don't want to lose my friends, but lately, I've been wondering if it's really right to stay quiet when things bother me."
To his surprise, his mother scoffs and reaches over to tap his nose.
"Of course, you have to fight with the ones you love Remus." She said with a wry smile. "Do you think your father and I live in constant sunshine and daisies with no disagreements?"
Remus snorted and shook his head, knowing firsthand the kind of rows his parents could have, but also knowing that they always worked out their differences in the end.
"So, you're telling me not to be so scared of fighting with them?" He asked, and Hope shook her head.
"Your fears and concerns will always be valid, love, but they also shouldn't take control of your life. Sometimes, you must take a step back and think about what's really important." She answered softly, hoping her words would comfort and strengthen her son. "It's okay to stand up for yourself or the things you believe in, even if you're afraid. I've never wanted you to live governed by your fears."
His mother caresses his face before she adds.
"If your friends are half as wonderful as I know they are, they'll always be around…even if you have a fight or if you're having a rough time."
Remus felt his eyes water and quickly wiped at them to keep the tears from falling.
Why did it take losing a person to realise how much you needed them?
"Thanks, Mum. You've given me something to think about." He said it with a soft sigh, then smiled at her. "I love you."
"I love you too." She said, turning back to her own food while still looking his way. "Remember, you can always talk to me or your father, and if not, I'm sure your friends will listen. You don't always have to bear the weight of the world on your own."
"I'll try to do better." He promises and she nods approvingly.
"I know you will. Now eat up before the food gets cold. I didn't slave for nothing."
Remus laughed and picked up his spoon again, taking a bite, a spark stirring inside him.
Once they're done with lunch, Remus helps his mother clean up and then leaves the kitchen feeling more settled.
He sits at his desk, trying to reorganise his thoughts, and decides it's time to finally respond to the letters he's been putting off, especially the one from James.
He's been hyperaware of the letter since its arrival, though in truth, he doesn't need to read it to know what it says.
Sirius has run away from home.
He'd been expecting it and finds he recalls this moment (like most of his memories with Sirius) with the utmost clarity.
He remembers the fear and concern at the time for Sirius's mental state, the desire to comfort his friend, making it easier to ignore and push aside his own inner conflict, and the feelings of betrayal from the prank.
He can't afford to do that this time.
It did neither of them any good.
Remus lets his thoughts turn to Snape and his conflicted feelings regarding him.
Although he could empathize with Snape's troubled past and his anguish over his loss of Lily's friendship, Remus couldn't forget the other man's bitterness and spite, especially in his dealings with Harry.
He had always been keenly aware of Snape's theories about his lycanthropy, but the other boy had never had any proof, and Remus had never felt threatened by his animosity.
Not until Sirius, at least.
The starting point had been the afternoon following their Defense Against the Dark Arts exam.
Remus can recall their mocking behaviour and the stupid comments referring to his 'furry problem' for all and sundry to hear.
Merlin, they'd really been right, prats.
How his secret wasn't known by the whole school given their reckless antics, Remus couldn't tell.
Then there was the fight by the lake, leading to Snape's anger and insults towards Lily, who had only sought to protect her friend.
The backlash that followed led to multiple pranks, spats between classes, and building tension between Gryffindor and Slytherin.
Sirius had always been rash and ready for a fight, especially in adolescence when he was so quick to defend his views and be a champion for the Light.
Thus, during a heated argument with Snape that led to the Slytherin boy poking at Sirius and his sensitivity about his family, Sirius responded in kind, mocking the other boy about his werewolf theories, and provoking him on how to access the Shrieking Shack, not realising Snape would try to enter on an actual full moon.
Remus doubts Sirius ever truly thought about the consequences, and how much worse it could have been if James hadn't intervened that night.
James had quite literally saved both Snape and Remus's life.
Because Remus knows that if he ever hurt a person, the Ministry wouldn't have to worry about him…for he'd end his own life in an instant.
With a heavy heart at the memories, Remus writes back.
*Pro* James,
I hope you and your parents are well.
The full moon was the same as usual.
Thank you for letting me know about *Pads* Sirius. I'm relieved that he's out of that dreadful house of horrors and safe with you.
How is he doing?
Be honest…
Remus hesitates before continuing.
I know you want me to visit, but I can't.
I'm sorry for ignoring your letter until now.
I haven't been as well as I pretended to be and truthfully, I don't quite know yet how to explain.
I didn't get angry or fight with *Pa* Sirius, and it feels like I should have.
Of course, I'm not going to fight with him. Or any of you.
What happened with Snape is done, and nothing I do will change that.
Fighting now after I just let things slide at the moment…
Well, it feels ridiculous and I already regret not saying anything.
*The shame I*
I should have been honest with you all.
*I felt betrayed*
My point is, I'm not in the right place to be the friend *Pads*Pa* Sirius needs right now and there's a lot I need to sort out in my own head.
I hope you can understand. I'll see you all at Hogwarts.
Your mate always,
Remus
P.S. Please tell Sirius not to blame himself. He will always be one of my best friends.
Remus purposefully leaves off their nicknames, wincing at the blotches where he's written them habitually, only to scratch them out, hoping it conveys to James and Sirius how important this is to him.
His next letter is to Lily.
Lily's unwavering support and friendship had always been a beacon in his life, an easy comradery that started during their prefect patrols together and only grew closer in the days following her unfortunate fallout with Snape.
He tries his best not to get any tears on the parchment, thinking about her kindness when she finally discovers the truth about his curse and the overwhelming devastation when he first hears about her death.
Remus then repeats the process with Marlene and Mary, steadfastly ignoring all further thoughts about his previous future and the fates of his friends.
It's unfortunate that he can't write to Dorcas yet as they don't really know each other well at this time, something he thinks will be on the top of his to-do list when they return to school.
He picks up the last letter and grimaces.
The anger and hatred he can feel for the betrayal Peter Pettigrew committed, simmers under the surface, almost as fresh as the day when Harry helped bring the truth to light and Sirius was proven innocent.
Remus must forcibly remind himself that, at this point in time, the young boy is still just their meek-willed, opportunistic, and clumsy friend, not yet coerced by anyone affiliated with Voldemort.
At least, as far as his knowledge.
He briefly skims the contents of Peter's letter and quickly scribbles some perfunctory response of good wishes for the holidays and that he'll see him on the first of September for school.
He holds himself back from being rash, knowing it won't help.
He needs to be smart, not another version of Sirius.
Remus stifles a snort.
After neatly arranging his stack of letters, Remus retrieved a fresh sheet of parchment, the scratch of his quill echoing his restless thoughts as he made a list of everything that needed to be considered.
Each word he wrote felt like a small act of finally taking control amid what had felt like chaos.
Remus thinks most of his knowledge about the war will become redundant if he can start laying a stronger foundation now and realises, he won't be able to control every outcome or response to his actions.
With that in mind, he intends to be proactive while he can to achieve the best possible outcome.
The growing hostility between Slytherin students and other students is among the most important factors.
The house rivalries go from more than just differing opinions and childish pranks, to becoming a breeding ground ripe for Voldemort's recruitment efforts among the Pureblood families and their anti-muggle prejudices.
This reminded him of children like Sirius's younger brother Regulus Black, who died unexpectedly, or Crouch Sr.'s mishandling of his son's imprisonment following the Longbottom's' torture.
One of the future's greatest tragedies was the loss of so many wizarding families, along with the potential of their younger generations.
So, he'd try his best to prevent it if he could.
Remus's quill scratched softly against the parchment at every thought and idea, from finding ways to earn extra money and being a better friend to how he can combat Voldemort's propaganda and the backward thinking of their whole society, the ink smudging slightly when he pressed too hard.
He paused, staring at the parchment before him, the words blurring together, and his thoughts began to drift to his most recent nightmare.
Remus can still feel the shadow of Greyback's claws as they reach out.
He had spent so long hating and being ashamed of being a werewolf, hiding it, and fearing it.
But maybe that was part of his problem.
His mother was right in saying he needed to stand up for his beliefs.
He'd lived a life accepting everything as was, being content with what he thought was more than he deserved.
He spent so much energy always being cautious, always keeping his emotions finely controlled so as not to become a monster, inadvertently becoming a mere shadow of himself in the process.
Maybe it was time to embrace it, to accept that it was a part of who he was.
Maybe the world needed a bit of his temper, kept so carefully under wraps you'd miss the gleam of near gold in his eyes if you didn't look closely enough.
Remus set down his quill and leaned back, the parchment filled with his thoughts, plans, and a sense of purpose.
It was overwhelming and he had a lot more to think about, but it was also a start.
He stood and gathered the stack of letters, intending to send them out before it got dark.
The time for hesitation was over; Remus needed to be ready to forge a new path, no matter the cost.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read this so far. I hope you continue to enjoy.