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“I know that you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood. Give me Harry Potter, and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and you shall be rewarded. You have until midnight.”
Did Remus dare to call Harry through the mirror Aberforth had given him? Was it worth risking Harry’s safety just to assuage Remus’ greatest fear, that Harry had been killed?
Only hours ago, he had seen Harry, scared and exhausted, but alive. Remus had wanted to throttle him and never let him out of his embrace in equal measure. For months, he hadn’t seen or heard from Harry. He vanished from Bill and Fleur’s wedding with no one to protect him and his friends. He left Remus without even saying goodbye.
It hurt, of course. But worse than that was the dread that plagued Remus with each day that passed: the certainty that he would hear news of Harry’s death or capture.
Only today had he seen the papers with his own eyes, clear proof that he still lived: Harry, Ron, and Hermione riding a bloody dragon of all things out of Gringotts. He would have to talk to Harry about safer modes of transport. Thestrals and flying cars and dragons...
He stunned a Death Eater that he didn’t care to identify, and disarmed them as they fell. Their wand resisted briefly, but snapped with a dull sizzle when he forced it to with a growl. He murmured an Incarcerous , and didn’t bother with anything else, like moving them out of the way of trampling feet. He hoped someone ran across their face while they were trapped there.
Remus ducked into a corner, taking advantage of the brief lull in enemies to fight. The mirror piece was comforting in its familiarity, remembering how much Sirius loved that thing. For a moment, only his own ragged face stared back at him, when suddenly, Harry’s face shimmered into being on the glass, surprised to see Remus already staring back at him in astonishment. There was a look in his eye that Remus didn’t like.
“Harry! Thank Merlin.” Thank Merlin he’s alive. He’s exhausted and pale but still standing. He’s alive –
The resignation in his stare reminded Remus of taking Harry away from the Dursley’s two years ago, and it made the dread coil tighter in his chest before Harry even said the awful words:
“It’s me, Remus. I’m the final Horcrux.”
There was a long moment of dull incomprehension before Remus realized what that meant.
“Harry, where are you?” he asked slowly, matching Harry’s low volume. His attention was caught by a scream and a blast of spellfire fairly near to where Remus had hidden himself in the corridors of Hogwarts. He wondered who had been hit. If they were dead.
Harry didn’t answer. At this point, did he really need to?
He wanted to beg Harry to stop walking. He wanted to break the school’s wards and apparate to Harry’s side, then apparate them far away from this wretched day. He wanted to use whatever trust and love Harry had for him, and use them as weapons to make Harry believe he shouldn’t do the right thing for everyone else, just this once.
“Where are you?” he repeated. “I’ll come to you.” Imagining Harry not only walking to his death, but walking alone was too much for him to bear. And he hadn’t convinced himself not to stop Harry from going to Voldemort in the first place.
Harry’s voice was shattered. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I think if you were right here, I wouldn’t be able to go through with it, and that’s if you weren’t just trying to get close enough to stop me.”
His face disappeared for a second, probably swiping at his eyes with the same arm that held the mirror. It was a very childlike maneuver, and Remus had only seen Harry do it once or twice. He clutched the mirror, biting back asking Harry not to move, to keep his face clearly in view. How many more seconds did Remus have left to see him? To know his heart still beat in his chest? Harry’s short life was diminishing before him, and Remus needed to stop it from happening.
The mirror displayed the dark sky. Dawn was several hours away, and as Harry’s arm swung down, Remus caught the barest glimpse of a lit castle turret, far behind him. Harry was already entering the forest.
It’s too far for me to reach him , Remus thought as he immediately left his hiding place to try anyway.
“Do Hermione and Ron know where you are?” Remus knew the probable answer, as Harry was walking and not tied up in a broom closet under Gryffindor guard already. He just needed to keep Harry talking.
“No, they would only stop me. I don’t think I could walk away from them, either,” he said, his face started to crumple. Remus subtly picked up speed.
“I ran into Neville on the way out and told him about Nagini. She’s still alive, she’s a horcrux too, and she’ll need to be killed before...before He can. I saw her kill Snape, and he showed me a bunch of memories, that’s why I know about the one in my head. The one He left the night my mum and dad...yeah.”
He paused and focused on Remus, who was gaping at Harry. Neither of them had stopped walking.
“You watched him die?” Remus asked, his heart aching. Snape’s death aside, hadn’t Harry seen enough, been through enough? Why was it Harry who had to give up everything to stop Voldemort? He wished, not for the first time, that the mantle of the Boy-Who-Lived could be transferred to someone else.
Harry nodded. “He, um, really was on our side, the whole time. He and Dumbledore had worked together to keep me safe and everything, but he only learned that I had to die not too long ago. He was brave.”
Remus reached the Entrance Hall while Harry spoke. There wasn’t time to use a secret passage out of the school, so he kept to the shadows as best he could. The fight had quieted down, leaving the massive room eerily quiet, save for distant shouts and spells. He ignored the dread building inside him, telling him it was hopeless and he’d never make it to Harry in time, and that he shouldn’t anyway, for the good of the world.
He didn’t care about that. Who was there to care about the good of Harry, now that he believed he had to die?
“I think he loved my mum,” Harry was saying, almost to himself. Remus blinked at him.
“Who?”
“Snape,” he said quietly. “I didn’t get it before, why he hated me so much. But I think he really loved her.”
Remus frowned. Trust Harry to be understanding, even on his own death walk.
“That may be, but whatever he felt was no excuse to be cruel to you. You are completely separate from her. And James. And being a grown-arse man, he knows that. Knew that. It’s unfortunate that his life had to come to a close before he could realize that.” Remus said, trying to be fair, since Harry had just witnessed his murder.
“Come to a close,” Harry whispered. It was possible he was nearing Voldemort already if he was trying to stay quiet, and it made Remus’ stomach turn.
“Harry–” he tried, but Harry disappeared from view. Remus saw his hand flash in front of the reflection, and a few blades of grass loomed over the edge of what he could see.
“Harry!” he whispered as loud as he dared. He tripped over the uneven ground as all his focus went to the mirror. For several seconds, nothing changed, and he almost pocketed his mirror to run when he saw the black shadow of Harry’s hair, and then he was being picked up again.
“Sorry, sorry,” Harry murmured. “I just – you made me think of something. Remember that snitch Dumbledore left me in his will? I’ve been trying to figure it out, and nothing’s been working. But I just told it I’m going to die, and it’s...I think, well it was holding the Resurrection Stone.”
Harry held up a small stone, and Remus knew that under less dire circumstances, they would have joked together about Harry’s ability to give Remus headaches with his chaotic and vague explanations. Instead, he felt like he couldn’t take in enough air. Just the image of the stone alone bore the weight of death. Remus swore he could feel it, practically taste it, as Harry immediately turned it three times in his palm.
Remus knew the tale, he knew what would happen if the stone was turned, but he still wasn’t prepared to see Sirius appear next to Harry.
“Sirius,” Harry breathed, finally standing still.
“Hey, pup,” Sirius said to Harry, like nothing was amiss. He glanced in the mirror and his smile was warm. “Hey, Mooney’s here too. Can he see me?”
Harry wiped his eyes and looked at Remus, who nodded in silent awe.
“I’m sorry I got you killed,” Harry blurted. Remus opened his mouth to argue, but Sirius beat him to it. He slung his arm over Harry’s shoulder, putting them both in Remus’ line of sight through the mirror. His arm didn’t seem to have much weight to it, but he certainly wasn’t intangible like a ghost. His gently glowing body more reminded Remus of a Patronus than anything phantom.
“Wasn’t your fault and you know it,” Sirius said softly. “I know you know it. And I would do it again, go down fighting, any of it, to keep you safe. I’m just sorry I left you so early. We never really got to live together, did we?”
Remus was tempted to scream at the irony. That’s what he’d been trying to do for Harry for the last ten bloody minutes.
“Me and Remus live at his house,” Harry offered, while tears fell down his face. Remus’ view of them was getting shakier, and he realized with a pang that Harry’s hand must be shaking. “It’s nice there, I—I like it there.”
“Yeah? Probably a sight better than Grimmauld.”
“Yeah,” Harry and Remus said without hesitation, making them all grin.
“Maybe I could come back as a ghost. We could all live together, if Remus comes and finds the stone, after...after I’m gone. Maybe I could distract Him when he goes to fight everyone after he’s mortal,” Harry said thoughtfully. To Remus’ dismay, Harry and Sirius began walking again, although a little slower than before, since Sirius kept his arm around Harry.
“Don’t you dare, Harry James Potter,” Remus tried to keep his voice low, but it was hard. His breathing was labored from running towards Harry. When Remus glanced up from the mirror, he was nowhere near Harry yet. Why were the grounds of Hogwarts so fucking vast?
“You’re not becoming a ghost, and you aren’t dying.”
“Ghosts are stuck forever, kid, it’s a horrible choice,” Sirius added.
“Oh, yeah? Feel like telling me what the better choice is, then?”
“You know I can’t,” Sirius said, ruffling Harry’s hair, if only slightly. Remus stared through the mirror shard in amazement. The power of the resurrection stone humbled him, until Sirius’ next words sunk in and all he felt was rage. “You’ll have to find out for yourself.”
“How can you tell him that? Harry, just stop walking , let me come to you.”
Harry swallowed. “I can’t. You won’t let me do this if I wait for you.”
Remus was very aware of that. Sirius watched them both calmly, and it just made Remus more upset.
“Well, why aren’t you stopping him, then?” he demanded.
Sirius’ brow furrowed. “I believe this always had to happen, Remus. Harry’s doing the right thing. Albus said once he fulfills the prophecy – “
“ I don’t give a damn about the prophecy!” Remus snarled. Harry winced, the mirror jerking in his grasp. He switched his stare to Harry’s. “I care about you . You shouldn’t have to do this. We’ll find a better way that lets you live your life, kid.”
“He’s in my head, Remus.” Harry’s eyes welled. “A part of his soul is attached to me. I’m keeping him immortal just by standing here. There’s no other way except for me to...to die.”
Renewed fear settled into Remus at the resolve he saw in Harry.
“Please,” he begged. “Just wait for me to catch up and we can talk about this. You can’t bet with your own life. I won’t let you. Do not take another step until I get to you. Please, Harry.”
In the silence while Remus waited for a crack to form in Harry’s resolve, Remus heard the faint crackle of a spell rippling toward him. Without a moment to spare, Remus ducked, only to be hit with a pain hex that made his eardrums feel like they had burst. The sudden pain wrenched a cry from him before he reminded himself to stay quiet for Harry’s safety.
“Fuck,” he spat, casting a shield charm just in time to stop another spell. It looked like the raining knives curse, judging by the projectiles falling to the ground around his shield. He looked for his attacker.
Antonin Dolohov’s gaunt face loomed in the dark spaces between the trees. He grinned, his eyes black like a shark’s.
“Remus? Remus, what happened?” Harry’s voice sounded strange, like Remus was hearing it through an old telephone.
A Death Eater responsible for so much pain and death, for the murder of Molly’s twin brothers, cast wordlessly, and Remus’ shield charm scattered like it had been made from dandelion fluff.
Then, Remus felt his heart surge with pain, the muscle racing and pulling in on itself, and he grit his teeth to hold back a scream. He flicked his wand as he fell to his knees, and three of the knives flew off the ground and whistled toward Dolohov. He dispatched those with ease, but was distracted enough that Remus was able to direct a fourth one to circle behind him. Nonverbally, Remus wasn’t very precise, but he still got a solid stab of the blade into the back of Dolohov’s leg. He staggered, yanking the knife free with a snarl. As the blood trailed from the wound to the knife, he flicked the blade toward Remus, directing the stream of blood toward him.
Remus cast a variation of mobiliarbus that sent a nearby log hurtling off the ground and knocking Dolohov down. It didn’t crush him like Remus hoped it would.
Remus dove to the side of the incoming spell, but the blood followed his movement and splattered on his stomach. Smoke rose from his clothes as each drop burned like acid, melting the skin beneath. Remus hated bloody blood magic.
An aguamenti stopped the burning, but Dolohov was still alive and dangerous.
“Just hold on, Remus! Please, don’t die!”
To his horror, that was the last thing he heard from Harry’s side of the mirror.
“No!” Remus cried.
Remus hit him with a curse that would flip Dolohov’s vision upside down, giving Remus a chance to regain his bearings. He sent a nonverbal spell to the ground at Dolohov’s feet that made each step sink further into the ground than the last, making it difficult to move quickly.
He didn’t have time for this fight. He didn’t dare shout for Harry, not when he was so close to Voldemort. He spared a glance at the mirror in his hand, and it was on the ground, unmoving. Harry had left it behind.
Remus’ distraction left him open to Dolohov’s hex, a nasty one that yanked off the victim’s fingernails. Remus cried out as pain erupted from all his fingers, and he knew if he lost hold of his wand, he’d be done for. Dolohov was a skilled duelist, and his signature was double, sometimes triple, stacked spells. Remus could count on another curse coming his way if he wasn’t fast. He felt each individual nail shift in the nailbed, and thought he might be sick.
“ Diffindo !” he snapped, pushing as much power as he dared into the spell. He slashed his wand in the familiar movement, but his strange, desperate grip changed the trajectory at the last second. Dolohov was still unbalanced from Remus’ hex, and stepped forward faster than Remus could have predicted.
The severing charm rushed up the center of Dolohov’s torso. It wasn’t deep enough there to kill him, but the accidental arc of Remus’ casting curled at his neck and sliced deep into the artery. Dolohov fell, covering his own face in blood.
“ Petrificus totalus ,” Remus cast. Dolohov’s already supine form stiffened while his blood kept flowing, but at least he couldn’t get in any more nonverbal spells.
Remus couldn’t remember the countercurse to the hex on his nails, but a finite worked just as well. He sped deeper into the forest and held up the mirror as he ran, his heart pounding.
“Harry!” Remus dared to whisper harshly. Harry’s mirror remained where it was, pointing up at a slant toward the trees.
Something dark moved across his palm, and Remus jumped before realizing it was his own blood, oozing from a cut where he’d gripped his mirror too hard.
It was then, while he was stumbling further into the forest, not daring to hope that he could make it in time, when he saw green light flicker through the trees. The hue of the killing curse was mockingly bright, and Remus saw its flash through Harry’s mirror and at a distance and to the side from where he stood.
Remus stared into the dark forest, unmoving, for what felt like a long time.
His body wasn’t reacting to his mental anguish, but it would soon catch up. Sirius’ voice broke through the haze of grief.
“Mooney! Hide yourself, right the fuck now! Now! ”
On instinct alone, Remus dove behind the nearest tree, crouching against the trunk. In the same movement, he cast the strongest disillusionment charm he knew. His breathing was hard and fast, and he didn’t know if he’d been holding his breath since Harry had taken his last, or if he was starting to weep. The charm would keep the sound from traveling regardless.
He looked around for Sirius, but he was gone. He had only seen Sirius when he had been close to Harry, he was likely almost faded when he’d come to warn Remus. If there weren’t much more pressing matters, Remus would have told Sirius in his last flickering moment that he was sorry he failed him and Harry, that he had been making up for it as best he could these past two years, and that he hoped Sirius was at peace, wherever he was. He deserved it.
Remus could hear the Death Eaters before he saw them break through the trees. They were cheering. Celebrating. Seconds later, he saw them, some running ahead, and he noted vaguely that some passed exactly where he’d been standing. The rest of them flanked a hulking shadow, a man almost twice the height of everyone around him. Hagrid. He was walking unsteadily, and Remus squinted into the shadows, trying to see an opening to help when he got a better look.
One of the Death Eaters had Silenced Hagrid; his shoulders shook with the strength of his sobs completely without sound. His arms and legs were tied together but with enough tether for him to shuffle forward slowly.
Hagrid cradled Harry’s body in his arms. Remus forced himself to stare, to check that he was really gone, that his lungs no longer filled with air. It was cruel that Remus got to keep breathing when the boy he promised to protect no longer could.
The group walked by his hiding place, including Voldemort. No one noticed him. He watched as they marched towards Hogwarts, their victory seemingly assured.
Remus stood woodenly, forcing his grief to sharpen his mind rather than dull it. Harry was gone, but Remus didn’t want him to have a reason to come back as a ghost, wherever he was. He would have plenty of time alone to mourn later, in his cold and empty house. But now, he needed to help win this last fight.
He wanted to witness Nagini’s destruction, the last remaining horcrux. And when Voldemort was mortal, Remus would rip his teeth into the bastard’s neck and prove it.
-
The Dark Lord fell. He was finally, utterly, dead. The Great Hall had burst with sound and movement not long after the killing curse rebounded. Remus couldn’t move; his eyes were locked on Harry, who was pale, panting, and clutching two wands for dear life.
Remus stood stock-still as Ron grabbed Harry’s shoulder and swung him into a crushing hug, beating his back in celebration. Hermione was only a step behind, and the trio embraced for a long time. Remus couldn’t stop staring at every clutching movement of Harry’s fingers, every swell of his ribs, all the signs of life.
Eventually, Harry broke away and began searching the Great Hall, his eyes skipping across hundreds of faces around him. Remus hadn’t realized how far into the shadows he stood until Harry spotted him and immediately started running. At first, Remus was afraid if he moved too fast he might wake up from this dream where Harry had survived and killed Voldemort. Harry’s face was streaked with tears, he noticed as he neared, and that pushed Remus into action. He sprinted forward, and they collided painfully, all their cuts and bruises renewed.
Remus had never felt more whole in his life.
Harry was crying in earnest now, he could feel each shudder and Remus had oddly never felt more grateful, either. He tightened his arms around him.
“I’m sorry,” he cried. Remus tried to shush him, but Harry continued. “I shouldn’t have left you like that. I was try-trying to get to Vol–to Him so maybe he would call off the Death Eaters. I thought I could get him to stop before he killed – I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Harry. You should never have had to walk into that forest by yourself. It should never have been your responsibility. I wish I could have at least gone with you, kid. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. You were so brave.”
Harry shook his head where it was still tucked against Remus’ shoulder.
“You were with me,” he argued. “I called you and you answered. I needed...you helped distract me, I don’t know if I would have stayed calm if you weren’t talking to me. And Sirius stayed with me, he–he walked with me all the way –”
“That’s good. I’m so glad he did.” Remus closed his eyes tightly, although the fight to not cry was nearly impossible when Harry was already. “Sirius warned me to hide, after...right before Hagrid carried you out. I guess he really wanted to be there for us both, one last time.”
“I was already back, by then,” Harry mumbled, sparking Remus’ curiosity. “It was hard not to tell Hagrid I was alright, I’ll have to apologize to him, too. That was horrible.” Harry sniffled again. “I’m really sorry, Remus. I made you and Hagrid and Sirius all see that.”
“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay, Harry. I’m fine, Hagrid is fine, and Sirius...going by what he told you, I think he was honored to be with you until the very end. He had a lot of regrets in his life, but never when it came to being there for his godson. You made him very proud, and he loved you.”
They stood like that for a long time until Harry calmed down. Remus swept the room with his gaze once, making sure no one would intrude while Harry deserved a private moment to cry. He needn’t have worried. He was amazed that no one was staring at them or trying to congratulate Harry, perhaps his disillusionment charm still had some power in it.
“Can’t...breathe,” Harry joked.
Remus felt a little bad that he was using his werewolf strength to clutch Harry to him as tightly as he possibly could. Only a little.
“Just wait until Hagrid gets a hold of you,” he said into the top of Harry’s head. He pressed a kiss into his hair before he could think about it, and Harry’s cheeks were pink when they pulled apart.
Harry looked around nervously, relaxing when he saw Hagrid in the opposite corner of the Great Hall, helping someone with an injury.
“What do you need?”
Harry looked out at the mass of people in the Great Hall. Remus watched him take in the relief and joy that he had caused, the reactions of a long war finally ended. There were dead and wounded, but they had won.
“I want...can we go home?” Harry looked up at him, clearly ready to hear Remus say they should stay and help. Instead, he swung his arm over Harry’s shoulders, like Sirius had.
“Sure we can,” he said fondly.
They passed through the crowd with ease. Remus guessed that the shock hadn’t quite worn off yet, but in time Harry would be swarmed. For now, Harry could say goodbye to his friends without much fanfare. When Harry wandered towards the cluster of statuesque Malfoys guarded by members of the Order because he needed to “return something”, Remus stayed near the Weasleys. Half of them had already left, including Arthur, to escort Fred to Saint Mungo’s. Molly sat on the ground near an unconscious George, whose head was partially wrapped in gauze. She was stroking her fingers through her son’s hair when Remus knelt to hug her.
“I’m so sorry,” he said as they parted. Molly sniffled but smiled at him.
“Thank you, dear, but I have hope. He’ll be alright,” she said, choking up. Fred had been grievously wounded in an explosion, although Remus didn’t ask for details.
“It’s silly, isn’t it, to not feel happy at a time like this?”
“When your kids are hurt? It’s not silly at all. Not at all,” Remus said. “I was out in the forest when...when Harry...”
Molly put her free hand on Remus’ shoulder.
“You poor dear. I can’t imagine...”
“Yeah,” Remus agreed. He watched as Harry handed over a wand to the Malfoy son, Draco, under careful watch of Kingsley Shacklebolt. “He’s a good kid. But I know what you mean about not feeling like celebrating today.”
Molly nodded in understanding. They sat quietly for several minutes, Remus taking the chance to spell himself less bruised and bloody, until he could take a proper hot bath at home.
“Is everyone else uninjured? Are you alright?” Remus asked her. He hadn’t listened to Harry’s soft conversation with her, not wanting to intrude.
“None of the boys were seriously injured, thank Merlin, other than these two,” she said, patting George’s head. She seemed unable to lose contact with him, an instinct Remus was beginning to understand. Harry was still calmly talking to Draco, still breathing. “I’m sure my husband exhausted himself, but Percy will make sure he’s seen by a healer. Ginny...I’m not sure. She’s been alone at Hogwarts all these months, and she won’t say much, but I think there was a lot of evil here. I could feel it when I stepped inside.”
She looked far away for a moment, then shook her head.
“Anyway, all that to say, I saw Bellatrix Lestrange go after her, and I didn’t hesitate. I killed her straightaway, and I’d do it again.”
Remus straightened where he sat, feeling a weight lift from him.
“Bellatrix is...you killed her?” He asked hopefully.
“I believe I called her a bitch and then yes, I killed her.”
“Damn. Forgive me if this is horribly timed, but I killed Dolohov earlier, when I was chasing after Harry.”
“Oh–” Molly gasped, her eyes filling once more. “Thank you, Remus, thank you.”
As awful as it sounded, they both felt at peace sitting next to the person who killed the vermin they each wanted revenge on the most.
“I called him a bitch, too,” Remus fibbed, and was proud of himself when he got Molly to laugh.
-
“I think I’m the Master of Death,” Harry said out of nowhere as they left the castle together, turning his new Elder wand over in his fingers.
Remus sighed as he failed to wrap his head around that. He could practically hear Sirius laughing, which reminded him to convince Harry to incinerate the mirror shards later. There simply had to be a less stressful way to communicate with his kid.