Remus hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but they hadn't exactly tried to be quiet. On the journey back, the distance between them seemed to vanish, replaced by a new tension. He didn't want to picture what they were doing, but the soft moans were unmistakable, twisting in his stomach with a mix of concern and discomfort. It made him feel sick, perhaps because he knew the dynamics in the house would shift yet again. Could they not see the strain this would put on the group? For Merlin's sake they had only just begun to recover after Hermione and Sirius had broken up.

But then the mood soured; the noises ceased, and Remus couldn't help but hear Hermione's revelation—a truth that sent Sirius fleeing. Remus didn't know what to think, after all, his worst fears had just been confirmed. He just knew he needed to find Sirius before the spiral of despair took hold. With Harry away at the Weasleys, he feared his friend would be unable to escape his pain. He sat for a moment, contemplating where to find Sirius. He mourned for the life Sirius should have had, before that horrible night, that had ruined his life. With that sad realisation, he knew where to find him.

As dawn broke, he hurried to the graveside. There, he found a large black dog slumped before a headstone, a bottle of firewhiskey discarded nearby. The sight was surreal—a drunk dog, lost in grief—before Lily and James Potter's grave. Remus's heart ached at the sight, sometimes his own grief felt so overshadowed by Sirius's, Sirius just seemed to feel things so deeply, whereas Remus had forced himself to become almost numb. He lowered himself to the grass beside the animal, running his fingers through the familiar fur. Sirius remained still, but gradually leaned into his touch, his head resting heavily in Remus's lap.

Uncertain of what to say, they sat in silence as he stroked the dog's black coat. The days of sitting around Hermione's little kitchen table felt so long ago. The days before the pressure had fully hit and their planning had felt more like a game than real life. Back when he too had thought Hermione was perfect. Lost in thought, he spoke without realizing it.

"Shepherd's warning," he murmured, gesturing at the pinkish sky. The sun was rising quickly, almost rude in its insistence on bringing another day.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Moony?"

Without him realizing, Sirius had shifted back into his human form. He looked rough—almost like his Azkaban photo, pale with sunken eyes.

Remus smiled sadly. "It's a Muggle phrase my mum used to say. It means the weather is going to be bad today."

Sirius grunted, clearly unsure what to do with this information. There was another moment of silence.

"She told you, then."

"I overheard," Remus clarified, pausing before adding, "but I think I might have already known—part of me, anyway." He glanced at Sirius, waiting for a response before continuing. "It was since his nightmares." Sirius opened his mouth, ready to speak, but Remus didn't notice. "They felt too vivid. I know you didn't know, but nightmares like that aren't normal. Not when you didn't spend so long with Dementors."

Sirius deflated, guilt washing over him for the bad advice he had given Harry.

"Then when Hermione seemed evasive about the final step and wanted to confront Voldemort, it all clicked into place."

"But why didn't you say anything?" Sirius asked, his voice strained.

"Honestly, I hoped I was wrong," Remus admitted.

"Why did she hide it? Why lie?" Sirius's voice broke, and in a surge of frustration, he slammed his fist into the ground, making Remus jump. "Fucking lying bitch."

He groaned, before he sank back down, the anger fading. "I put my life in her hands, Harry's life in her hands." He looked away from Remus and turned back towards the marble stones in front of him. "I loved her, Remus," he whispered.

Remus understood Sirius's pain. He had suffered for so long because of someone else's lies, and today must have felt like another betrayal. "I don't know exactly, Padfoot," he said slowly. "But I don't think Hermione is a bad person. I think she was scared of our reactions. She's more lost than she lets on. She pretends to be in control because she knows she doesn't really know what she's doing."

Sirius snorted bitterly. "Yeah, you're right about that. Hermione wants us to think she's got it all together, but when you really know her, it's clear how fragile she is."

"I don't think she did this to hurt you or Harry. If she says he will survive, I believe her," Remus replied firmly.

They fell into silence, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air. "Harry comes home tomorrow," Remus said finally. "I think you should be there for that. He can't lose you."

Sirius looked offended. "I would never leave Harry. I just… really don't like this."

"That's okay. We can work out a plan. We'll talk to Hermione. We can't let things continue like this."

Sirius nodded before laying his head into Remus's lap once again, this time remaining in his human form. Remus returned to stroking his hair, not reacting to the broken sobs that echoed around the empty graveyard.