Chapter Text
The Thursday that Remus arrives at the London safe house is like any other, faintly drizzly in the way London always is in spring. The kitchen is loud when he walks in, a group of Order members crouched over a map that Remus can’t quite strain his eyes enough to see. Lily beckons him over, but before she even gets the chance he shakes his head no, choosing instead to focus on filling up the kettle. He’d never quite gotten used to using magic for a cup of tea. It felt a little sacrilegious.
He catches the tail end of Dorcas’ speech, as he messes about in the cupboard searching for a decent teabag. Dorcas has taken on a leaders role that none of them had expected in school, aided by her sharp eye for strategy and her unfailingly brilliant mind.
‘So, Marlene and Sirius will head to their locations at 10pm tonight. All being well we should expect you back here on Monday evening.’ Her tone brooks no argument. It signals them coming to the end of the meeting, everyone starting to shift from their positions around the table. This reveals Sirius, previously disguised by the small crowd of people, leaning back from the map and tucking his wand into his back pocket. He nods at Dorcas as she slumps down at the head of the table, reaching over to touch his fist to Marlene’s outstretched one.
He looks well, Remus thinks. His hair is pulled back from his face in a low bun, a singular chain tucked into the neck of his shirt. He’d filled out under his shirt in the months of missions and he seems more solid than he has for a long time. Remus wonders if the look is attracting any new conquests for Sirius, though he can’t remember Sirius pursuing anyone since Hogwarts. It’s hard not to notice these things when you’re practically living on top of people you’ve known for years in safe houses, where everyone seems to know everyone else’s business. It surprises him, Sirius had always been a glutton for love and attention. Remus thought he would have fallen into a relationship with his easy affection and charming good looks, but nobody had ever indicated this had happened. Perhaps people were mindful of the tense energy that existed between them now, or even the feeling of inevitability that had haunted their relationship at Hogwarts until Sirius had irrevocably ruined them, and were choosing not to tell him. He doubted their friends were quite that tactful, however. He certainly wasn’t going to ask him about it in any case.
‘Remus.’ Sirius nods, face passive as he walks towards the counter Remus is stood behind, tracing his fingers mindlessly over the grooves in the wood.
‘Sirius. You alright?’
‘Doing good, thanks. Busy. Yourself?’
‘Tired, as always.’
The conversation is stilted. It always is. It peters out after their initial pleasantries and Sirius reaches down to fiddle around with his pocket, procuring a set of house keys. I don’t even know where he lives, Remus muses idly. Once upon a time the plan had been to live together post-Hogwarts. Remus had assumed that Sirius would go and live with James after Hogwarts, but the suggestion had never come up and they weren’t close enough by that point for Remus to feel comfortable asking. Besides, he had been too busy looking for his own place to call home, not that he spent much time in the flat he had found in Potter’s Bar. He’d thought staying close to London would have afforded him the chance to go home between his obligations to the order. This wasn’t the case, he spent more time at Order safe houses, crowded in with an ever changing mix of old friends, than he did at the flat. When he returned to it, he always noted how dusty it was and vowed to do something about it, but never seemed to find the time.
‘Best be off then. Look after yourself, Remus.’ Sirius’ voice barely cuts through his musings, and he nods a distracted goodbye as he listens to Sirius shout his farewells to the rest of them, strolling out the door with his hands in his pockets. Sirius always leaves as soon as the meetings are over, heading off to wherever he calls home now, Remus assumes.
‘Penny for them?’ Lily snaps him out of his daydreaming by leaning against his side, stealing his cup of tea out from under his fingers.
‘I’m thinking you’re a bloody thief.’
She raises an eyebrow at him, taking another sip, and he can’t help but laugh.
‘Are you coming for dinner tomorrow?’ She asked him, ‘Don’t worry, James is cooking.’
‘Well if James is cooking, count me in. It’d be poor form if we all died of food poisoning in the middle of a war.’
‘You’re such a twat, Remus John. You got time to stay and catch up with me now?’
‘I’m sure I can fit you into my busy schedule.’
Spending time with Lily is always easy. She rests her head on his shoulder and chatters on about her favoured latest developments. He’s content to listen to the mundanities of her life, it almost makes it feel like everything is normal, like the most important choice they will have to face is what colour to paint the accent wall of a bedroom. She fills him in on the relationship drama of their friends, of Marlene’s wild nights out and the women she stumbles home with, with the budding romance between Alice and Frank. She given up on asking him if there was anyone special in his life a while back, the answer had always been a gentle, but firm, no.
It’s like no time at all has passed when she gets up to leave and Remus decides he is too tired to go back to his flat, retreats upstairs to an already made-up bedroom. His sleep is dreamless.
*
Remus had always loved the Potters’ house. It reminded him of his parents home, snug and homely and wood-panelled. There was also the bonus of Harry, who was guaranteed to put a smile on his face with his babbling and his beautiful green eyes.
James calls out a hello from the kitchen, rounding the doorway so he could reach out to tug Remus into a hug. James’ hugs could cure any ill.
‘Alright mate?’ James asks, ‘Dinner is already on the table, come sit.’
They meandered through the normal small talk about Harry, Remus’ missions, the moon. James was quieter than normal and Remus set down his fork to enquire gently.
‘Prongs? You okay?’
‘He’s fine,’ Lily pipes up, ‘He’s been stressing about Sirius since he left for this stupid mission.’
‘Oh the one you were talking about on Wednesday?’ Remus asks, trying not to tense up at the mention of Sirius’ name.
‘That’s the one.’ Lily confirms, ‘James thinks it’s reckless.’
‘It’s not reckless, it’s completely suicidal. They have no information about this supposed Death Eaters hideout and they’re both going to get themselves killed. I don’t see why we’re putting ourselves in the line of fire for the sake of maybe, potentially picking off some Death Eaters. God forbid we ever come up with a coherent plan instead of just going in there and blindly waving our wands!’ James’ voice was loud in his distress. He had never been quiet about his emotions.
‘Sirius is very bright. I’m sure he’s more than capable of holding his own against some Death Eaters.’ Remus says gently, trying not to betray how much he didn’t want to discuss Sirius. He knew James still struggled with how their relationship had dissolved into this nothingness, thought that if he had just tried harder then he could have mended the broken shards of their friendship. He didn’t begrudge James his relationship with Sirius, had never wanted James to turn his back on his brother, but he’d been carefully shutting down any suggestions of reconciliation between himself and Sirius for so long that they rarely ever discussed him. He was the world’s worst kept secret between James and Remus.
‘Thank you, Remus. Now shall we eat the rest of our dinner without discussing the potential demise of our friends?’ Lily says, wryly.
Remus couldn’t help but smile at her. He had always loved her tongue in cheek humour, it had been what had encouraged him to befriend her in the first place. James face was still tight with worry, but he let the subject drop, content to coerce Remus into more servings of dinner, fussing in a way that reminded Remus of Euphemia. By the time he stands to leave, he’s so full he knows he’ll sleep well and he can see Lily sneaking tupperware full of food into his satchel. He’s feeling too fond of them to object.
James sees him off at the front door.
‘Moon this weekend?’ He enquires gently, eyes lingering on the limp that’s been plaguing Remus for weeks now.
Remus nods, weary at the thought.
‘Yeah, I’m going down to the safe house in Wales early on Sunday after it’s over. I’ll see you in the week?’
‘Of course, take care.’ James’ face is soft when he looks at him and it makes Remus’ insides squirm.
*
The moon had not been as harsh with him as usual, Remus notes with relief as he opens his eyes, feeling the wet ground of the forest beneath his back. He could not feel any injuries beyond bruising, the ache was no worse than it always was, no telltale stabbing pain that would suggest anything was broken. He was still exhausted however, and the walk back towards the little shack to retrieve his wand and his clothes felt far longer than it had the night before. He sat for a while, tucking his head between his legs until the blackness that was creeping across his vision retreated enough for him to apparate to the safe house. He had tried the first few times to apparate back to his own flat, but had quickly realised that far of a jump was much too far from the isolated woods he had scouted for his transformations. The Welsh safe house on the coast suited him much better, and it was often empty. It was nobody’s favourite but his, the decor worn and shabby, the house itself small. Remus occasionally thought that someone else had been there right before him when he arrived. In his last few visits, he had found a washed mug upended d
on the draining board still wet with soap, a hot water bottle tucked in the bed still lukewarm, a battered copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray face down saving someone’s page on the arm of the sofa. He had left the book alone, not wanting to upset the pages, though he quietly wished he had thought to bring a book himself on that occasion. Healing from the moon could be tedious. He felt quite fond of the idea of the safe house as he got ready to apparate, the peace it brought him already settling over him as he felt the familiar twist in his stomach.
He catches the smell of blood the second he lands at the end of the path, exhausted and bruised. It takes him another step to realise the scent was familiar. He knows whoever it is that is bleeding, but couldn’t figure out who through the haze of panic. James? Lily? Peter? Mary?
No, he thinks, as he twists the handle of the door. Sirius.
The realisation hits him like a shot of adrenaline and the familiar aching tiredness of the moon is lost. The safe house is deathly quiet as he crosses the threshold and it sets his teeth on edge. Surely, if Sirius is injured the house should be abuzz with activity, he should have caught the faintly antiseptic smell of healing magic. He can’t even contemplate the alternative. That perhaps there is no use in doing healing magic at all. That perhaps Sirius is already…
Remus takes the stairs two at a time, ignoring the twinge in his hip. It’s not a big house, he doesn’t have to go far. Andromeda is lent over the bed in the singular bedroom, blocking his view of Sirius.
‘Andromeda!’ Remus’ mouth moves of its own accord, and she whips round to face him, clearly alarmed. She relaxes somewhat when she realises it’s him and beckons harshly towards him.
‘Come and help me.’ She implores.
Remus feels out of his depth, healing magic had never been his strong suit. Sirius had been best at it. She instructs him to hold a stasis charm as she fumbles over Sirius’ still body, desperately trying to stem the bleeding.
‘Andromeda, what the hell happened?’ He asks, eyes scanning the cuts that are steadily dripping blood onto the white sheets below him. He notes with horror that there is one on Sirius’ face that runs from the left side of his hairline down to just above the right side of his lip.
‘I don’t know, I came here to make sure there was a healer kit ready for me because I was supposed to be checking in with him on Monday when he arrived back from the mission and he came through the door like this not long ago. He was screaming so much that I had to knock him out to be able to do anything about this, he wouldn’t even let me touch him. It’s dark magic, I tried to get rid of the cuts with healing magic and they just reopened. I think I’ve worked out how to stop the bleeding, but nobody screams like that over a cut, they’ve done something else to him but I don’t know what.’ Andromeda’s face is set, focused as her wand moves over Sirius’ body. Her career as a healer is evident in the way she moves, in the way she has managed to stay calm when Remus can sense the undercurrent of fear running through her. She sees Sirius as her son, he knows, despite the impossibility of this with their small age gap. He doesn’t know she’d survive losing her only remaining tie to her family.
‘What do we do then?’ Remus asks, somewhat comforted by how Andromeda has managed to slow the bleeding of the cuts, has managed to heal some of them completely, though he can see the healing is not neat, the cuts are receding into scars and some are still leaking blood.
‘We’re going to have to wake him up and ask. I can’t heal him if I don’t know what the hell happened to him.’
Before Remus can protest, she’s bringing him round. The screaming starts almost immediately and it’s haunting. It takes a moment to realise it is not just noise. Please, he is saying, please please please please. Remus wants to be sick. He feels outside of his body watching Sirius beg, as if he is floating on air, watching him stand helplessly in the corner. Time moves like treacle and he has no concept of how long he had been stood there watching.
’Sirius!’ Andromeda’s shouting over the screaming and his eyes cannot focus on her. Remus would be surprised if Sirius even realised that he was there. Remus has never seen him like this and he’s frightened. This Sirius is worlds away from the man in the kitchen last week, this Sirius looks halfway to dead, spit bubbling out of his mouth and knuckles white with how hard he is clutching the bedspread.
‘Ferre Dolorem.’ Sirius chokes out, clinging to Andromeda’s wrist, ‘Please. Please make it stop.’ His body is convulsing on the bed, eyes rolling back into his head.
Andromeda swears, starts mutter a spell that Remus has never heard before, not stopping until Sirius collapses back down on the bed like a marionette with cut strings.
‘Gone?’ she asks him, clutching his chin in her hand.
Sirius nods weakly, closing his eyes and going still.
‘Andromeda, what the fuck?’ Remus chokes out, eyes locked on Sirius and the blood stains beneath him. He still feels detached from his body. He’s leaning over Sirius’ body now, though he can’t remember moving towards the bed. He has no idea how long he’s been looking at him, but he realises he’s been counting the rhythm of Sirius’ breathing with no idea when he had started.
‘Come away. He’s sleeping.’ She beckons him away out of the room and Remus has never wanted to leave less. He can still hear the screaming echoing in his mind and he doesn’t trust that Sirius won’t die on them the moment they step away. He doesn’t feel like he can say no to Andromeda though, and part of him is frightened he might cry if he looks at Sirius any longer. He aims a Scourgify at the duvet before he leaves. He can’t bear the idea of Sirius lying in his own blood.
‘It’s old magic,’ She explains to him when they settled around the table downstairs, ‘Old and very dark. It makes pain…repeat I suppose. My guess is that they used the Cruciatus Curse on him and then used Ferre Dolorem. I’m surprised he’s not insane already. It explains why the cuts kept reopening as well.’
The sick feeling in Remus’ stomach returns, ‘Will he…be alright?’
Andromeda hesitates before she speaks, ‘I’m guessing he’ll have some side effects. Crucio isn’t a joke, especially when it’s sustained like that. I’m guessing he’s probably going to have some lasting pain. It’s…you feel them when it hits you even for just a few seconds. It makes you shake. Makes you sick. I think we need to be prepared for the possibility that it could be chronic. We just need to wait until he wakes up to know for sure.’
‘Jesus fucking Christ.’ It’s all there is to say. Remus despises the idea that they just have to wait until Sirius wakes to see if there’s permanent damage, if he’s forever changed.
Andromeda checks her watch and swears, ‘Fuck I was supposed to be back at home ages ago, Ted will be losing his mind.’
Remus looks at the clock above her head and is surprised to realise that 3 hours have passed. It felt like moments in his mind, time distilling down to nothing as he watched Sirius suffer. No wonder Andromeda looks so exhausted, she must have been working on healing him for much longer than Remus realised.
‘I can’t leave him. Shit, what about Nymphadora?’ The panic that she has been staving off is clearly starting to creep in, her eyes darting around the room, most often towards the staircase. Remus leans across the table to lay his hand over hers gently so that she turns to look at him.
‘You should go home.’ Remus reassures her, ‘Your daughter needs you and you look exhausted. I’ll stay with him, I’ll floo if there’s any problems. It could be a long time before he wakes up. I’ll tell you as soon as he does, I promise.’
She nods, looking uneasy.
‘Andromeda?’, he asks, ‘Could you find out if Marlene is okay and owl me? And tell James and Lily?’
‘Of course,’ she touches his head gently as she passes him, ‘You’re a good man Remus Lupin.’ She does not look him in the eyes as she says it, does not give him the chance to reply before she’s left the kitchen.
The front door clicks quietly and then he is alone. Apart from Sirius, asleep upstairs, Remus is all alone. It dawns on him that it has taken less than half the night for all the carefully crafted barriers around him to come tumbling down. Remus is not as aloof as he had always prided himself on, not as detached, not as rational and logical and sensible. The way Sirius betrayed him feels stupid, juvenile, in the face of knowing he could have died. That the world could have been without Sirius altogether. He feels like a fool. He prays to his mother’s G-d that Sirius will wake up okay, bargains with the universe that he will give anything for Sirius not to be hurt. It feels too little, too late. All he can do now is wait.
In the quiet of the morning, the sun just starting to rise, Remus starts to cry.