Remus was slumped on the old, worn-out sofa, the house plunged into darkness

except for the faint glow of the dying fire in the grate. The high-pitched whistle of the

kettle was irritating his sensitive ears, but he didn't want to move. No. He couldn't

move. His muscles ached, heavy as lead, and his mind was numb, exhausted from

fighting the waves of sadness and regret that haunted him every day.

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if he could shut out the world, but the

continuous sound of the kettle only seemed to intensify the emptiness inside him. His

arm, which had previously been resting on his stomach, slipped to the side, knocking

the open bottle of mead to the floor. The amber liquid spilled onto the already stained

carpet. The strong smell of alcohol mixed with the musty, cold air of the house, but

Remus didn't even care. He didn't have the strength to clean it up. He didn't have the

strength to do anything.

Everything seemed so distant, as if he were just existing in an endless void,

suffocated by memories and loneliness.

He had no one.

Not anymore.

He didn't want this anymore, to live this miserable and lonely life.

He thought he had gotten used to loneliness. He had always been alone,

since he was a child, but it seemed that getting close to those boys at Hogwarts had

spoiled him. Living with his friends in the dormitory for years and then having his bed

and house always occupied by the presence of the love of his life had made him soft.

But now he didn't have those presences anymore. He didn't have his friends

anymore, he didn't have the love of his life anymore, he didn't have anyone else. He

was shocked to be still alive, whether it was because of the thoughts that death

would be something really pleasant or because of the lack of money. Although

Remus spent days and days without eating, living only on cigarettes and drinks,

making him not remember the last time he had been sober.

Then, there was a knock on the door.

Weak at first, almost imperceptible. Remus didn't even blink. The sound

seemed distant, as if it were coming from another world, and he was too far from

caring. The whistle of the kettle was more insistent, but both sounds merged into a

single mass that didn't quite pierce the bubble he was trapped in.

The knocking repeated itself, a little louder this time, echoing through the

small, dark house. Something inside him registered the sound, but Remus just stood

there, his eyes bleary and his mind lost. The door was just another thing in the

outside world that he didn't want or couldn't face.

Whoever was on the other side seemed insistent, as there was more, even

louder knocking. Remus blinked slowly, his head spinning slightly with the heavy

feeling of alcohol in his system. He couldn't tell how long it had been since he'd

heard a human sound so close. And frankly, he wasn't sure he wanted to know who

was there now.

He wanted to be left alone. He wanted to be alone.

More knocking, louder and more desperate each time.

Remus closed his eyes for a few seconds, sighing heavily and forcing himself

to stand up. He had to wait a few seconds before sitting down, the alcohol making

his head spin. Or the surroundings. Oh, fuck it. What difference did it make? Remus

stood up, staggering to the door, hearing more knocking again, making his head

throb.

Finally, he reached the door, his legs wobbly, his steps heavy, as if each one

was a battle against his own will to no longer exist. The knocking continued,

incessant, urgent, and Remus, without any energy to care, turned the doorknob with

shaking hands. He didn't even bother to look at who it might be. Maybe it was a

mistake. Maybe it was someone he didn't want to see. It didn't matter.

When he opened the door, the cold of the night entered the house, cutting

through the stifling heat inside. Remus blinked, trying to focus his bleary eyes on the

figure in front of him. He froze.

It was James.

Remus backed away, staggering until he reached the stairs of the small

house. His knees gave way, and he collapsed on the steps, his shaking hands

clutching his own hair as violent sobs shook his body. The ground seemed to be

falling away, and reality distorted into a mixture of despair and denial. Every fibre of

his being fought against the sight in front of him; James, his best friend, standing,

staring at him.

— Remus! — James approached, worried

— You're not real... You're not real!

— Remus, I'm real! — James' voice said desperately, closer to him now.

— You're not real! For the love of Merlin, leave me alone! I can't take this

anymore! — Remus said between sobs, gripping his hair tightly.

— Remus… — hands held his wrists carefully, but still firmly. Remus lifted his

head quickly, his eyes wide with shock.

Remus was in complete shock, his eyes wide, his chest rising and falling with

irregular breaths. He instinctively pulled his arms away, but the hands holding his

wrists didn't let go. The touch was real, warm, firm. His sobs came out uncontrolled,

almost like choked screams, as he tried to free himself, but his legs barely had the

strength to keep him standing.

— Remus… — James' voice sounded low, but full of emotion. There was pain

there, a pain Remus knew all too well, but he couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe

it. Not after everything.

— No! — Remus screamed again, his voice breaking at the end. — You're

dead… You… You're dead! I went to your funeral! I saw your body lying in the coffin

next to Lily! You're just my head! This is all in my head!

James didn't move. He stood there, gently holding Remus' wrists, as if he

knew that any sudden movement could cause his friend to collapse completely.

James' eyes, full of compassion and sadness, were fixed on Remus's.

— Remus, it's me. I'm here. I'm alive! — James said, with a calmness that

contrasted with the chaos Remus felt inside himself. — I don't know what they told

you, what Dumbledore said, but I'm alive! It's not your head! I'm real!

Remus shook his head frantically, tears choking him. He looked deep into

James's brown eyes.

— Please, I can't take it anymore… — he whispered pleadingly.

James pulled him close, his arms around Remus now, holding him tightly.

Remus tensed for a moment, unsure whether to fight the embrace or give in. And

then, as if a dam had broken inside him, he gave in. Remus's crying intensified,

desperate, deep, as if the full weight of years of pain was being poured out there, in

that moment, against James's chest.

— I'm here, Remus. — James repeated, tightening his hold. — And I'm not

going anywhere.

Remus gripped James's shirt so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He

sobbed and sobbed, mumbling between sobs:

— I can't take it anymore… I can't take it… You… Sirius… Lily… Peter… I've

lost you… I've lost all of you…

James ran his hand through Remus's disheveled hair, his voice low and

steady.

— I know, Remus. I know. But I'm here now. This is real, it's okay now.

Remus continued to cling to James as if he were the last anchor of his sanity,

his body shaking uncontrollably. Each violent sob reverberated through the small,

dark space, filling the suffocating silence of the house. James didn't let go of him,

Remus was grateful for that, feeling that he would completely fall apart if he were to

be removed from the embrace.

Little by little, Remus's crying lost strength, the sobs becoming more spaced

out, until they turned into shaky sighs. James kept his hand firmly in Remus's hair,

his fingers drawing slow, comforting circles on the back of his friend's neck, as if

trying to calm the storm that consumed him inside.

— I don't know how to go on… — Remus murmured in a broken voice, his

eyes closed as he still clung to James. — I don't know how to live anymore, how to

go on without you guys...

— You're not alone, Moony. — James replied, his voice soft but firm. "I'm here

now.

Remus didn't answer right away. He simply let himself be carried away by the

comfort of James' embrace, his body exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

The warmth of James' touch felt surreal, but at the same time, deeply comforting, like

a reminder that, despite everything, there was something — or someone — keeping

him grounded in the real world.

The weight of exhaustion began to win the battle against his tormented mind.

Remus no longer had the strength to fight against the relief that James' embrace

brought. His muscles began to relax, and his body went limp, his eyes half-closed as

exhaustion finally took over. Carefully, James adjusted his position on the floor,

supporting Remus' body better and leaning him against his chest, maintaining the

protective embrace.

Remus let out a last heavy sigh, his body finally surrendering to sleep. His

breathing, previously panting and uneven, had now calmed down, becoming slow

and deep. Remus' face, previously marked by anguish and pain, now seemed a little

more peaceful, as if, for the first time in a long time, he had found some kind of

peace, even if momentary.

Remus let exhaustion take over his body, pulling him towards

unconsciousness.

James watched Remus sleep soundly on the floor, the traces of anguish

softened by exhaustion. God, he didn't remember ever seeing Remus in this state.

Not even when his father died had he been so devastated and inconsolable.

James studied Remus. He couldn't let his friend sleep on the floor, but

Remus, despite clearly being extremely thin, at 1.90 m tall, was still too big for

James to carry. Was it lycanthropy that made him grow so much when they were

teenagers?

— Remus. — he whispered as he shook his shoulder gently. — Moony, wake

up. I know you're a wolf, but I don't want you sleeping on the floor. — James teased

affectionately.

Remus's dazed eyes fluttered open, clearly unable to process what was

happening around him. He simply sat on the step of the stairs, staring blankly at the

floor. James stood up, guiding Remus carefully to the old, worn sofa, laying him

down and carefully adjusting him, pulling a blanket over him. Remus fell asleep

again as soon as his head touched the torn cushion.

After making sure that Remus was comfortable, James sat in the armchair

next to him, feeling his own body heavy with the tension of everything that had

happened. He kept his eyes fixed on Remus for a long time, as if he needed to

confirm over and over that his friend was okay.

James looked around, and a pang of pain tightened his chest when he saw

the state of Remus's house. Every corner seemed to reflect the same emptiness and

desolation that he had found in his friend. The room was plunged into darkness, with

only the faint, flickering glow of the nearly extinguished fire in the grate, casting

shadows on the stained walls. The damp air and the lingering smell of mold and

alcohol almost made him cough.

The curtains, once bright and perhaps even cozy, now hung heavy, faded and

dingy. The carpet, covered in old stains and the most recent one from the mead

Remus had spilled, was a silent testament to days and nights when no one had

cared enough to clean it. The kettle was still whistling in the kitchen, and James

could glimpse a pile of stacked plates, covered with dried and hardened food scraps.

He took a deep breath, his heart sinking as he saw the shelves where Remus

used to keep books, now covered in a layer of dust that only highlighted the

abandonment of the place. Books and papers were scattered across the floor and

furniture, crumpled and forgotten, as if any semblance of organization had been

destroyed.

James ran his hand through his hair, trying to process everything he was

seeing. It was almost unimaginable that Remus, so meticulous and careful, had

reached this point. His friend had always been remembered as someone who, even

in difficult times, maintained a quiet dignity, caring for the space around him as a

reflection of his own disciplined soul.

But now, everything seemed torn apart, both the house and Remus.

James sighed and stood up, heading to the kitchen to turn off the kettle. On

the way, he dodged a pile of papers, an empty bottle of whiskey and a few more dirty

dishes. As he entered the small kitchen, he felt a lump in his throat when he saw that

the place was covered in dirt and disorder. Stained glasses, cups with coffee

remnants, empty bottles and cigarette packets scattered across the counter were the

only evidence that Remus still used this space, but in a way that did not befit the

friend James knew.

He returned to the living room, where Remus was fast asleep on the couch.

James looked at his friend's face, now serene, but still marked by exhaustion and

pain.

The night passed slowly, with James dozing sporadically in the armchair, but

always waking up to check on Remus, as if he feared he might disappear at any

moment. When the dim light of morning began to invade the room, James gave up

on sleeping and got up silently and went to the small kitchen, where he began to

prepare a tea. The soft smell of dried leaves spread through the room, filling the

house with a sense of calm that seemed to have not existed there for a long time.

— James? — Remus's voice came out hoarse and hesitant, broken. As if he

was afraid to say his name.

James turned, putting the kettle back on the stove. His eyes met Remus's,

and he smiled softly, but with an expression full of concern.

— Good morning, Moony. — he said, with the same familiarity as always.

Remus leaned back on the couch, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

— You… — Remus tried to speak, but his voice failed him. His eyes filled with

tears as he slowly rose from the couch, his body shaking like a leaf. — You're alive…

You're really here… — he managed, his voice a whisper.

— I am, Remus. — James smiled warmly at him.

Remus shook his head, tears streaming silently down his face. He felt as if his

mind was splitting in half, struggling between the fear of believing it and the

desperate need to accept that it was real. Without warning, he threw himself into

James's arms, hugging him with all the strength he had. The sobs came again, this

time more desperate, more intense, as if the reality of the situation had finally hit him

in a devastating way.

— James… You're alive… You're really alive… — Remus whispered

between sobs, his voice cracking with pain. — I thought there was no one left… I

thought I'd lost you all…

James tightened his hold, feeling his own heart ache, seeing the extent of his

old friend's suffering.

— I'm so sorry, Remus… — James said with a voice full of guilt, running his

hand through his friend's disheveled hair.

Remus' sobs continued, as he clung to James as if his life depended on it.

— I was so lonely... Merlin, it was only a matter of time before I did something

stupid… — Remus admitted.

Then, a doubt arose in James' mind, a doubt that he could no longer ignore.

When he felt Remus calming down a little, he asked the question that had been

burning in his mind since he saw him in that state.

— Remus... Sirius... Where is he? — James asked reluctantly, afraid of the

answer. Remus suddenly pulled away, looking scared into his eyes. — Remus, what

happened to him? Sirius would never abandon you, he would never leave you like

that.

Remus continued to stare at him in silence.

— Are you kidding me? — Remus asked in disbelief, taking a step away from

James.

James looked at him in confusion.

— No. Moony, where is he? What happened to him?

— James, you… — Remus ran a hand through his dirty, disheveled hair. —

You can't be serious. You still care about him, even after what he did!?

— What?

— He betrayed you, James! Black turned you over to Voldemort! That's what

he did! He is to blame for all this shit! — Remus practically screamed, a look of

insane rage in his green irises.

James took a half step back, not used to seeing such anger in his normally

calm and level-headed friend.

— No! Sirius would never do that!

— BUT HE DID! — Remus finally shouted, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

— He betrayed you! HE BETRAYED YOU! HE BETRAYED ME! HE BETRAYED…

— It was Pettigrew! — James interrupted.

Remus stopped yelling, his angry expression turning to confusion.

— What…?

— It was Pettigrew, Moony! — James repeated, his voice firm. — You were

sent on a mission with the werewolves and Sirius decided to leave that night. He was

chased by Death Eaters in the Muggle world! He managed to escape, but he went

home in despair, afraid of being caught and put under Imperius or something and

ending up revealing our location. He insisted that we switch the faithful and we

thought Peter would be a good idea! No one would suspect him! — James was

panting, adrenaline coursing through his veins and the air being too short for the

speed at which he spoke. — You hadn't come back from the mission yet, we couldn't

tell you. Moony, I'm so sorry, I swear we would never hide something like that from

you.

Remus' face went pale, his body falling back, falling onto the couch.

— No… — Remus mumbled, his voice breaking.

— It's the truth, Moony. — James continued, sitting down beside him carefully.

— It was him. Wormtail betrayed us, allied himself with Voldemort. Sirius tried to

protect us.

Remus brought his hands to his face, burying his fingers in his disheveled

hair.

— No… — he whispered. — No… I left him there… I left him in that place…

What did I do…? Merlin, what did I do? — a sob made Remus's whole body shake.

— Remus. — James grabbed his friend's arm. — Moony, where's Sirius?

What happened? — he asked worriedly.

— Azkaban… Azkaban. He's in Azkaban. — Remus said between sobs.

James felt a lump form in his throat. He was silent for a moment, trying to

process the information. Sirius, his best friend, was locked up in that hellish prison.

All for a crime he hadn't committed.

— Azkaban... — James repeated, almost in a whisper, his eyes wide with

disbelief. — How... How could this happen? He... — the pain in his voice was

evident.

Remus was still shaking, his sobs now softer, but no less painful. He seemed

unable to look up, his hands still clutching his hair as if trying to hold on to something

real, something solid, in the midst of his despair.

— It's my fault... It's my fault… — Remus finally said, his voice shaking.

— Remus…

— I should have believed him... I should have believed him! — he stopped,

his chin shaking uncontrollably as more sobs came out. — I thought he was the

traitor. Everyone said he did it... I never visited him... I let him rot there, alone. How

could I do this? — his voice broke, and he burst into tears once more.

James closed his eyes for a moment, trying to control the growing anger that

burned inside him. Not from Remus, but from the situation. From Peter. From the

cruel fate that had destroyed their lives. He crouched down in front of Remus,

placing his hands on his friend's knees.

— Remus, listen… — James said, trying to keep his voice steady. — This isn't

your fault. None of this mess is your fault. Voldemort, Pettigrew… They are to blame.

They tricked everyone.

Remus shook his head, tears falling freely down his face.

— I should have known… I should have trusted him. He was always there for

me, we shared a bed, slept side by side… — Remus sobbed once more, unable to

continue. — How could I not trust him? How could I leave him alone in that place for

all these years!?

James' eyes widened.

— Years!? — he asked, startled.

— Over six years… I left him alone for over six years! — Remus cried.

James took a deep breath, trying to contain his panic. His appearance already

gave away that he had been asleep for a long time, but six years?

James brought his hands to Remus' shoulders and squeezed tightly, trying to

convey as much strength and support as he could, once he came out of his state of

shock.

He had been asleep for longer than he had imagined.

— Remus, listen: we're going to get you out of there. — James said with

determination, his eyes burning with a mixture of pain and anger. — We're going to

get him out of there and bring him home. Sirius isn't going to spend another day in

that damn prison for something he didn't do.

Remus looked at James, hope mixed with disbelief in his eyes.

— How? — Remus whispered. — No one listens… No one believes.

— I'm here, aren't I? Me, his supposed victim, the one who chose the

Secret-Keeper, isn't that proof enough?

Remus looked into his eyes, the crying quieter, as he nodded slowly.

— Yeah… Yeah, I guess so… — he replied.

James smiled welcomingly at him.

— Let's get Padfoot out of there.

James and Remus walked through the cold, oppressive corridors of the

Ministry of Magic with firm steps, but each movement carried the weight of an almost

unbearable tension. James's face was a mask of determination, although inside he

felt the piercing gazes of everyone around him, full of surprise and fear. He could

hear the whispers behind him, confused voices spreading the unbelievable news:

James Potter was alive.

The battle to get to this point had not been easy. Initial attempts to convince

the officials had been met with disbelief and bureaucracy, until James, exasperated

and with no other choice, suggested using Veritaserum to prove his identity. The idea

was met with hesitation, but the desperation in his eyes spoke louder. After a

moment of uncomfortable silence, the Aurors relented.

The impact of the revelation was immediate and overwhelming. The name of

James Potter, once remembered as a heroic victim of Voldemort, now echoed

through the halls with new meaning. The news had spread like wildfire, throwing the

Ministry into a state of contained chaos.

What had once seemed an unshakable truth — James Potter's death and

Sirius Black's betrayal — was now shattering. The air was thick with uncertainty.

James realized the weight of what his presence meant, but he pushed aside any

thoughts that might divert him from his goal. He needed Sirius.

— I can't believe we actually did this. — Remus murmured beside him, his

voice low and shaky, as if the claustrophobic surroundings might swallow them

whole. His hands were hidden in the pockets of his coat, but James could see how

they were shaking.

James let out a short sigh, nodding as he walked alongside the two Aurors

escorting them.

— But we did. And now we're going to get Sirius out of that place.

Remus stared at James for a moment, and as much as he tried to maintain

his composure, he couldn't keep the shadow of guilt from crossing his face. He knew

that the fight to free Sirius was only just beginning, but at that moment, a spark of

hope began to shine in both of their hearts.

The last gates of the Ministry closed behind them with a loud crack that

echoed in the cold air. James and Remus Apparated straight to the shore, where a

small boat was waiting for them. The sharp wind carried with it the salty, metallic

smell of the sea. The sea of Azkaban was like the prison itself: dark, unforgiving, and

icy, the waves crashing against the rocks in a rhythm that seemed to synchronize

with the distant screams escaping the fortress.

James looked up, his eyes fixed on the dark shapes floating above the

ominous castle. The Dementors, guardians of agony, hovered like vultures, sucking

whatever heat the wind carried. He felt a chill run through his body, but he did not

look away.

The crossing was made in silence, the boat cutting through the heavy waters

as both men faced the weight of where they were and what they were about to face.

For James, the sight of the island was a cruel reminder of years lost, an injustice that

ate away at him. For Remus, Azkaban was a living nightmare. He had been there

before on missions for the Order, but never before with such personal pain. Knowing

that Sirius had spent so many years in that place filled him with guilt; guilt for not

having done more, for not having realized sooner, for having believed, even for a

second, the lies that had put him there.

As they disembarked, the prison guards led them towards the fortress. The

damp stone corridors reverberated with the sound of their footsteps, but also of

distant moans, screams that echoed off the walls, like ghosts of the suffering that

inhabited that place. The air there was heavy, impregnated with the smell of damp

and despair, and the presence of the Dementors made the heat of their skin seem

like a distant summer dream.

When they reached a heavy iron door, the guard stopped, muttering a spell to

unlock it. The door opened with a slow, agonizing creak, revealing the dark, cold cell.

James and Remus exchanged a look before entering.

The darkness seemed to swallow the air around them, making every breath

an effort. In the far corner of the cell, a figure was huddled against the wall. Sirius.

His body was so thin that it looked as if the bones could pierce his pale, battered

skin. His disheveled hair, tangled and dirty, fell over his sunken face, partially

obscuring his eyes. The dim light that invaded the space when the door opened

revealed how devastated he was, every line on his face a map of the pain he carried.

For a moment, Sirius did not react, his eyes vacant and listless, staring into

space. Short, ragged breaths escaped his lips, every sound a reminder of his

fragility. But then, something changed. He saw them.

Sirius's eyes, bleary and filled with unbearable pain, met James's. A flash of

recognition passed through them, but it was a broken flash, like a shattered window.

His mouth opened, but no sound came out at first. When he finally managed to

speak, his voice was a hoarse whisper, a distant echo of the Sirius they knew.

— No… — Sirius whispered, shaking his head violently, his body reacting in

spasms. — No… No… No! Not again! Please! — I can't take it anymore! Please,

make it stop!

James took a step forward, pain squeezing his chest as he saw the state his

friend, his brother, was in.

— Sirius… — James called, but the answer was a hoarse scream, full of fear

and despair.

— No! Get out of here! You're not real! — Sirius backed away even further,

trying to crawl away, panic dominating his face as he trembled, his eyes empty of

any reason.

Remus gave James a distressed look, then slowly advanced, his hands raised

in a peaceful gesture. Remus' voice, always so calm and comforting, cut through the

dark silence of the cell.

— Sirius, it's me... It's Remus. — he crouched down, getting to Sirius's eye

level, without getting too close. — We're here. James is alive, Sirius. We've come to

get you out of here, my love.

But the words didn't seem to penetrate the fog of terror that enveloped Sirius.

He closed his eyes tightly, shaking his head in despair, his lips trembling as he

murmured.

— I... I killed them... All of them. I killed James... I killed them all... It's my

fault…

Remus swallowed hard, and James took another step, but Remus held up a

hand, telling him to wait. Slowly, Remus moved even closer to Sirius, until he was

only a few inches away. Carefully, he reached out, wrapped his arms around Sirius,

and pulled him close, feeling his friend's trembling, fragile body in his arms.

— No, Sirius, you didn't kill anyone. — Remus said softly, holding Sirius

tightly. — James is here, he's okay, my love. I'm here. You're not alone anymore.

For a moment, Sirius struggled against the embrace, still immersed in the

confusion of his own hallucinations. But Remus' words, the reassurance in his voice,

and the warm presence of someone he loved. Slowly, Sirius began to give in. His

jerky movements slowed, and he stopped resisting, letting himself collapse into

Remus' arms.

— Remus...? — Sirius's voice came out as a broken whisper. He opened his

eyes, confused, blinking several times as he tried to focus on his husband's face.

— Yes, it's me, honey. We're here. Everything is fine now. — Remus replied,

keeping his tone low and reassuring, continuing to hug Sirius tightly, as if he could

protect him from all the suffering he had endured.

Sirius looked at Remus's face, and then his eyes moved to James, who

watched the scene with a broken heart. Tears streamed down Sirius's face, his lips

trembling as he tried to process the reality before him.

— James...? — his voice was hoarse, full of disbelief.

James took a step forward, his heart clenching.

— Yes, Sirius. It's me. I'm alive. — he said, with a sad smile on his face. —

And I'm here with you.

Sirius let out a loud, broken sob, his head falling onto Remus's shoulder as he

cried, finally letting the weight of years of loneliness and pain out in the form of tears.

Remus continued to hold him, murmuring comforting words as James knelt beside

them, placing a gentle hand on Sirius's shoulder.

— We're together now, Sirius. — James said, his voice cracking. — We're

going to get you out of here. — he squeezed Sirius' shoulder affectionately, trying to

anchor him to reality.

It took Remus a while longer to steady his husband enough to pull him off the

ground.

— It's okay, dear. I'm here, let's go home now. — Remus hugged Sirius by the

shoulders, guiding him out of the cell, with James right behind.

Sirius's body was shaking incessantly, his thin arms hugging his own body,

trying to hide in Remus's chest. As Remus helped Sirius through the cold corridors of

Azkaban, James stayed by their side, casting wary glances at the Dementors that

still hovered above. Sirius stumbled every few steps, his frail and exhausted body

barely supporting the effort. Remus held him firmly, speaking softly and constantly,

trying to calm him down.

When they reached the coast, the icy wind seemed to cut through their skin

like blades. Sirius was shaking even more, his body wrapped only in rags that did

nothing to protect him from the relentless cold. Remus was the first to climb into the

boat, reaching out to help Sirius, who clambered in with difficulty. But instead of

sitting on one of the benches, Sirius slid down onto the wooden floor, snuggling

against the side of the boat. He hugged his knees to his chest, hiding his face in his

arms as if he wanted to disappear.

Remus hesitated for a moment, feeling his own throat close up. Then, gently,

he sat down next to Sirius, lowering himself to his level. With careful movements,

Remus put his arm around his husband's shaking shoulders, pulling him close.

— I'm here, honey. — Remus murmured, his voice thick with a tenderness

that seemed to contain years of guilt and longing. — You're safe now. No one will

hurt you again. I promise.

James, watching silently, took off the thick jacket he was wearing and handed

it to Remus. He didn't need to say anything; the look of concern in his eyes was

enough. Remus took the jacket, mumbling a thank you as he draped it over Sirius'

shoulders. Then he rested his forehead against his husband's head, closing his eyes

and began to stroke his dishevelled hair carefully.

— It's okay now. — Remus whispered, his hand continuing a steady,

comforting movement. He leaned down to leave a soft kiss on the top of Sirius' head

as if he wanted to convey all the love he had stored for years in that gesture.

James, sitting on the bench in front, watched the two of them in silence, his

heart heavy.

The sight of Sirius so broken, so different from the vibrant man he knew,

consumed him with pain and anger at those who had allowed this to happen.

Good Heavens, Sirius didn't deserve this, this hell.

As the boat glided through the icy waters, Remus held Sirius tightly against

him, murmuring words of comfort. He didn't know how long it would take for Sirius to

find some peace, but it didn't matter. He was here, and he would never let his

husband face the darkness alone again.

When the boat finally approached the shore, the three of them could see the

outline of the beach emerging in the distance. But as they got closer, something

unexpected revealed itself: a large group of witches and wizards had gathered there.

Even from a distance, they could hear the clamour of anxious voices and the glow of

magical flashes lit up the already pale sky in the gray morning. Journalists.

James closed his eyes for a moment, feeling anger bubbling up inside him.

— "Of course, the Ministry couldn't keep this a secret." — he thought, his fists

clenched.

Remus also stopped petting Sirius's hair for a moment, watching the growing

crowd on the beach with a tense jaw.

Sirius, however, was the one who reacted most violently. His tremors, which

had subsided during the journey, returned with full force. He lifted his head for a

moment, confused and frightened, his wide eyes staring at the crowd ahead.

— What… What is this? — he whispered, his voice frail and cracking. He

gripped Remus's arm so tightly that his thin fingers trembled. — They… Did they

come to take me back? — he asked, fear evident in his voice.

— No, Sirius! — Remus answered quickly, holding his hands tightly. — They

can't take you back. We won't let them. I promise. — his voice was low but resolute.

James approached, kneeling beside them both. He looked Sirius straight in

the eye, trying to anchor him to reality.

— They can't do anything to you, Sirius. — James said his tone firm. —

They're here because of me. Because no one believes I'm alive.

Sirius blinked several times, confused, but before he could answer, the boat

rocked slightly as it hit the sand. Immediately, the journalists began to move forward,

pushing each other as they shouted incoherent questions. The magic cameras

clicked incessantly, the flashes flickering like lightning.

Sirius shrank back, pressing himself against Remus's chest.

— No... No, please, no! — he began to mutter, shaking his head frantically. —

I can't... They're watching... They're going to... They're going to hurt me!

Remus pulled Sirius closer, protecting him as best he could. He gave James a

stern look, who immediately understood the message. Standing up, James

positioned himself in front of them, like a barrier between Sirius and the crowd. He

held up his hands, trying to hold the mob back.

— Enough! — James's voice boomed, full of authority. — Get out of the way,

you vultures!

The journalists hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the imposing

presence of James Potter, a man everyone believed to be dead. But the silence

didn't last long. Soon the questions began to pour in again:

— Mr. Potter, how did you survive the Killing Curse?

— Did the Ministry know about this?

— Will Sirius Black be exonerated?

— Mr. Potter, is Sirius Black guilty or innocent? What is the truth?

James gritted his teeth, ignoring the questions as he looked over his shoulder

at Remus. He stepped forward, positioning himself as a barrier between the crowd

and the two.

— ENOUGH! — he shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.

The journalists hesitated for a brief moment, taken aback by James's intensity.

But then a bolder wizard raised his camera and fired another flash, followed by a

shrill question:

— Mr. Potter, how can you defend Sirius Black? Did you know he helped

You-Know-Who by giving away his location?

James froze for a moment, his eyes narrowing as anger burned in his gaze.

A sob and Sirius's whispers invaded his ears.

— I'm sorry… I'm sorry… Jamy, I'm sorry, please… — Sirius begged between

sobs of pained crying, clinging tighter and tighter to Remus, who was desperately

trying to comfort his husband.

James took a step forward, his posture rigid, the air around him almost

vibrating with the intensity of his emotions.

— What did you say? — he asked, his voice low but dangerous, carrying

disbelief and fury. — What. Did. You. SAY!?

The journalist stumbled back, startled by James's tone of voice and the

maddening fury etched on his face. James took another step forward, as if each

word was pushing him closer to the end of his patience.

— You dare say that? — he snapped, his voice now firm and full of authority.

— Sirius Black gave away my location? Sirius Black helped Voldemort?

The journalists collectively recoiled at the mention of the name, but James

didn't even blink, his gaze fixed on the man who had made the accusation.

— Let me make something clear to all of you right here and now! — James

hissed, his fists clenched at his sides. — If it weren't for that man you just insulted,

my son and I would be dead! Sirius Black is just not my brother by blood, and he

would never — and I say, never! — betray me or my family and friends!

James' chest rose and fell rapidly, staring the brazen journalist in the eyes,

enraged.

— Do you think you know everything because you heard lies told by those

who don't know Sirius or were even there to know the truth? You know nothing! You

didn't see what he went through, you didn't live through what he suffered to protect

me and my family! So, I suggest you keep quiet before you say another stupid thing

like that in front of me!

The journalist stammered, trying to answer, but James cut him off before he

could speak.

— And if you still think you have something to say about Sirius Black, I

suggest you look me in the eye and say it again. Because I'm here, alive, and I'll put

an end to any lies you throw at him!

Silence fell like a blanket over the group. The camera flashes had stopped,

pens trembling in the reporters' hands. James, breathing hard, stepped back slightly

and turned to Sirius, who was still crying in Remus' arms. He moved closer to Sirius,

stroking his back gently and lovingly. James' voice softened, but still held firmness.

— It's okay, bro. You have nothing to apologize for, Sirius. You did a great job

protecting me and my family. I won't let anyone tarnish your name again. — James

looked at Remus, giving him a warm smile. — Let's get him home.

They Apparated, appearing in front of Remue's house. James watched as

Remus, with gentleness and obvious concern, led Sirius inside. Sirius was still

sobbing, his hand gripping the sleeve of Remus' coat as if it were his only anchor.

James ran his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath to control the anger

that was still bubbling inside him. He felt a wave of relief when he saw the two

disappear into the safety of the house. However, the emotional exhaustion of the

confrontation was beginning to set in, making his shoulders slump slightly.

Upstairs, Remus led Sirius to the bedroom. He left the door ajar, ensuring that

the outside world would not reach them. Sirius was shaking like a leaf, sobs still

racking his body.

— Shh, it's okay, Padfoot. — Remus murmured, his tone low and soothing.

— I'm here now, honey. — he helped Sirius sit up in bed and tried to carefully pull the

jacket off Sirius' shoulders, but his husband wouldn't let him, grabbing his brother's

clothes and wrapping himself even tighter in the jacket. — Okay. — Remus gave him

a sympathetic look and pulled a blanket over his jacket. — It's over, Sirius. You're

safe now.

Sirius shook his head, still lost in his confused thoughts.

— It's my fault… It's my fault… James… Lily… Harry… — Sirius rocked back

and forth.

Remus knelt in front of him, holding Sirius's face firmly but gently.

— It's not your fault, Sirius. — Remus said clearly. — You did everything you

could. Everything. You were betrayed, just like the rest of us, but it wasn't your fault.

James knows that. Lily knows that. Harry knows that. And I know that."

Remus's words seemed to pierce through Sirius's haze of anguish, and he

finally raised his eyes to meet Remus's.

— You know…? — Sirius whispered, his voice breaking.

Remus felt his chest tighten. He smiled sadly.

— We know. — Remus replied, his eyes shining with unshed tears. — And

I'm sorry it took me so long to believe it. — Remus slowly stood up, sitting beside his

husband, still holding his face. — I'll make it up to you. I promise. I'll never leave you

again. — the tears finally ran down his face.

Sirius stared at him, as if analyzing his words, until he slowly leaned towards

Remus, wrapping his thin arms around the taller's thin waist. Remus returned the

hug, protecting Sirius in his arms. Feeling finally protected, Sirius let himself relax in

Remus' arms, his sobs slowing down until his breathing stabilized.

Remus helped him lie down, covering him with the blanket and staying beside

him, stroking his hair until Sirius fell asleep.

— It's okay now. — Remus murmured, more to himself than to Sirius. — I'm

here. And I'll never leave you again. I promise.

Sirius sighed, falling asleep.

Remus watched his husband's face, now calm, but he could still see the

marks of suffering in his thinness, in the deep circles under his eyes and in the scars

that were hidden under his dirty and ragged clothes. Remus sighed, his eyes heavy

with exhaustion and guilt.

James, watching everything, approached and carefully grabbed Remus'

shoulder and led him downstairs, making him sit at the table and preparing some

tea. He found a chocolate bar in one of the cupboards, giving it to his friend along

with the tea. He knew that Remus always felt at least a little better with chocolate

and a cup of hot tea. He sat across from his friend, watching him eat the chocolate

and drink the tea too much.

James looked at the calendar.

— The day before yesterday was a full moon. Are you okay? — he asked,

swirling his own teacup nervously.

— I've had worse moons.

James didn't really believe Remus' words. He knew that his friend didn't like to

worry others, so he ended up lying and avoiding any subject that concerned his

well-being. Despite this, he knew that insisting wouldn't solve much, especially with

him so emotionally exhausted.

He looked around the house, seeing the mess and dirt.

— Do you leave Harry with Molly during the moon? — James asked, turning

to Remus.

Remus looked into his eyes over the top of his cup.

Remus looked away from James and stared at the cup of tea in his hands, his

fingers squeezing it a little tighter. The question had hit him hard, but he knew he

couldn't lie.

— I… — Remus hesitated, the lump in his throat growing. — I don't know

where Harry is, James.

James stood still for a second, processing those words. The blood seemed to

freeze in his veins. His eyes fixed on Remus' tired face.

— What do you mean you don't know? — James's voice sounded

incredulous. — Dumbledore said he was in a safe place. Lily and I left Harry's care to

you and Sirius! Why isn't he here!? — the desperation became more and more

evident in his voice, his breathing becoming faster and faster.

Remus bit his lip, feeling his own anguish intensify. Remus always felt guilty

for not being able to take his godson into his care, for never having even been able

to send a letter telling him about his existence, saying that he loved him, that he

missed him, that he wanted to take him out, play with him, just like when he was a

baby. He sighed, placing the cup on the kitchen table and finally looking at his friend

with sad eyes.

— Dumbledore... He wouldn't allow it… — Remus murmured, his voice low

and bitter. — I asked, I begged, but he said Harry was safe, that it was better this

way, that Harry needed to be where he is and away from the magical world to be

protected. He won't tell me anything anymore. Just that... he's fine, that he's happy.

James's disbelief turned into palpable anger. He took a step back, running his

hands through his hair in despair, his face contorted with anguish.

— Away from the magical world!? Away from who he is!? And how do I know

if that's true? How do I know he's really happy!? — James almost shouted, his voice

shaking. — He keeps me in the dark, Remus. What the hell is this!? Not even I can

know where my son is!?

Remus lowered his gaze, unable to look James in the eye. He knew how this

was destroying his friend. He knew how helpless he felt, suffocated by the lack of

answers. The same feeling ate away at Remus every day.

— I'm so sorry, James. — Remus whispered, his voice breaking. — I failed

you… — a sob left Remus's mouth, his shoulders shaking.

James was silent, watching Remus fall apart in front of him. The pain on his

friend's face mirrored his own, and for a moment, he didn't know what to say. Remus,

who had always been the stronger, more centered one, was now vulnerable in a way

James wasn't used to seeing.

James took a deep breath, fighting the tightness in his chest. He felt anger

boil inside him again, but he knew that yelling at Remus wouldn't solve anything. It

wasn't his fault. It was Dumbledore, with his secrets and unilateral decisions, who

had left them on the sidelines, powerless.

— Remus… — James began, his voice softer now, though it still carried a

trace of bitterness. — You didn't fail anyone. Dumbledore was the one who failed.

You always did everything you could, you were always the one who looked out for us

when no one else would.

Remus lifted his head, his eyes still shining with the tears he was trying to

hold back.

— I couldn't take care of Harry... — his voice cracked, full of guilt. — Sirius

trusted me to always be by his side and I abandoned him. You and Lily trusted me to

take care of Harry and I failed. He was just a baby, James. I should have protected

him, I should have fought harder. He's alone, with strangers, not knowing who we

are. I... — Remus swallowed hard, his teary eyes fixed on James. — I failed all of

you.

James sat down next to Remus, touching his shoulder comfortingly.

— You didn't fail. — James said firmly. — Dumbledore stopped you. He made

that decision and stopped you from being part of Harry's life. But we'll find him.

Remus nodded, his lips trembling slightly, without the strength to respond.

James pulled him into a tight hug.

— You love Harry, Remus. — James held his friend in his arms. — I know you

would do everything in your power to protect him and give him the best life you can.

And he will know that too. Dumbledore won't be able to keep him away from us

forever.

Remus ran his hand over his face, trying to compose himself, and then gave a

small, albeit hesitant, wave against his friend's shoulder.

— I just… I just wanted to see him smile, like when he was a baby… —

Remus murmured. — I wanted him to know that he has a family that loves him more

than anything and I wish I could have provided the best I could for him. I fear that

when we find him, he won't remember any of us anymore.

James pulled away slowly and carefully, looking directly into his friend's eyes.

— He will, Remus. He will. Family never forgets.

The silence fell between them, heavy, but with a spark of hope. Remus picked

up the now cold cup of tea and pressed it to his chest, letting out a long sigh. James,

still standing, looked around the house, feeling the sadness of the place. Everything

was out of place, dirty and forgotten, reflecting Remus's emotional state.

— We need a plan. — James said after a long moment, determination

growing in his voice. — We're going to find out where Harry is and bring him home.

Whether Dumbledore wants us to or not.

— McGonagall. — Remus said. — She must know something. She always

knows something.

— You're right, Moony! — James smiled. — Minnie has eyes everywhere and

is always up to speed on Dumbledore's plans. She is practically omniscient.

Remus bit his lower lip.

— Do you think she'll tell us anything? — he asked reluctantly.

— Of course she will! Minnie may never have let Sirius and I have fun in

peace, but she knows when to break the rules!

— You wanted to take a toilet from the upstairs bathroom as a souvenir.

— And we were happy with the sink.