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Chapter Text

In the magical forests of Scotland roamed a pack of werewolves, every one of them once a normal, non-infected wizard. And though each of them was different from the other, there were two things uniting them: the hope of a regular life lost, and the reason behind that. For at the top of the hierarchy in that pack stood Fenrir Greyback, perhaps the most feared of werewolves in all of Britain.

To his pack, Fenrir was good. In fact, very few of them were bitter about the fact that it was indeed Greyback who had bitten them; who had turned their lives upside down and left them with the legacy of animal blood coursing through their veins. Many of them even thought of him as a father-figure who, after years of them suffering on their own, locked up in a cage somewhere, had taken them under his wing. They stayed true to him because they were and would always be more welcome in the forest than in the wizarding society.

To most of them, the pack was the only family they had left. With these people, they did not need to be anything but their true selves.

This did not mean all of them were perfectly content with their rudimentary way of living. Some of them were not dedicated to a whole life of running around in fresh mud or chasing wild rabbits to eat for lunch. Some preferred a real bed to a sordid mattress every now and then, and it wasn’t frowned upon if one wasn’t ready to give up all connection to the outside world. After all, they were allowed to leave between full moons, to go and travel or visit friends and family – if they were lucky enough to have any left. Even Fenrir himself often disappeared between moons, to whoever he had, wherever. He knew he was in a position where no sane person would have dared stand up against him, were they eager to keep their limbs intact.

But Fenrir did have his rules, too. If one were to not return to the pack by the evening of the next full moon, they could kiss goodbye to the safety that the pack provided them with. Exposing the pack’s whereabouts would have been considered a crime worse than murder. In other words, you were safe as long as you played by Fenrir’s rules.

***

When Remus opened his eyes that morning, it was still early. He was greeted by the tentative first rays of the sun, which painted the forest gold before his eyes. His cheek was mushed up against the damp mosh on the ground below him, his joints popping as he carefully rolled onto his back. The transition that night had been more painful than usual, but that was just the way it was, sometimes.  

Looking around himself, he saw the rest of the pack scattered nearby, all of them naked and bathing in the sunlight with their eyes still closed. It was heavenly quiet, like in a void, save for the birds chirping jovially in the background.

Slowly, Remus clung himself up onto his feet. He stretched out his back, rolled his neck, felt out every knot in his body. He didn’t remember much from last night’s full moon, only that they must have run at least to the opposite border of the forest and back; he had not recognised the land even in his wolf form. Now, as he gazed once more at the others and deemed them fast asleep still, his face pulled into a small smile. More than anything, of course, he wished he had never been bitten in the first place. But secretly, he pitied the people who would never get to experience a connection as strong as the one a wolf felt to its pack.

Moving quietly on the fallen needles of the forest bed, he made his way to the cave nearby, where they had spent the past ten days. It looked small from the outside, like nothing but a mere crack in the stone wall of a hill, but inside, it would have fitted at least a dozen more people. It was warm there too, thanks to Fenrir’s protection spells, and the floor was covered in rugs and blankets. Near the walls, there were a few self-crafted beds which really were more comfortable than they looked.

Remus sauntered to his own and crouched to go through his backpack in search of a set of clothes to cover his bare body. He pulled them on, and when he turned around to face the entrance, he nearly stumbled back in surprise. Fenrir was standing there in the makeshift doorway, his scars only partly visible from beneath his shirt. He offered Remus a dilute smile.

“I see you’re already up,” he said, turning his back to crouch in front of the dead campfire. With a snap of his fingers, he lit it. With another, a teapot appeared in front of him. He filled the pot with water and charmed it to hover over the fire.

“I wasn’t going to get any more sleep,” Remus said, watching the flames gain more might. The cave immediately felt warmer.

“You should try,” grunted Fenrir. He turned to look over his shoulder. “You wandered far last night.”

“What do you mean, ‘you’?” Remus stepped closer, feeling the fire heat up his still probably muddy face. “We were all there. I remember.”

“You wouldn’t stop,” Fenrir continued softly. “I had to come after you and call you back. You’re right, we were all there. But not for the whole night.”

Something twisted in Remus’s stomach. He watched Fenrir’s face, the shadows flicking over it, altering with the orange flicker of the fire. A small, sinister smile stretched across his lips. Remus noticed the stain of blood on his chin.

“What happened last night?” he asked, frantically dropping to his knees on the ground beside Fenrir. He touched his finger to the dried-out blood stain. “Whose blood is that?”

Fenrir looked down, closing his eyes. The corner of his mouth tugged up, and when he looked up to meet Remus’s eyes, his own were glinting with wickedness. “Roberta MacCallaugh’s,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. Remus’s heart ripped out of its seams and dropped to his belly.

“What?” he managed, the word barely making it out of his mouth.

“You heard me.”

“Who—who?”

“You’ll get to meet her, don’t you worry. Once she’s old enough to join the pack.”

A terrible, screeching sound escaped Remus’s throat. He grabbed the front of Fenrir’s shirt, desperately, and looked into his cold eyes. “Did you bite someone?” he hissed. “Did you go to the village? Did you?!”

“I begged you to join us, Lupin,” Fenrir whispered, menacingly, “but you refused. You’re so good at heart, even as a wolf…” He dragged one long, dirty finger down Remus’s jawline. The uncut nail scratched uncomfortably at his skin.

Before Remus could pull away and run outside to vomit – he truly felt sick to his stomach – he suddenly caught a scent, carried in by a gust of wind through the open entrance; it was far away still and he didn’t recognise it, but the hairs on his neck rose and his heart started pounding uncontrollably in his chest. There was one thing his instinct could tell him: whatever it was, it was a threat.

He shoved Fenrir away, which wouldn’t have been a smart move, had Fenrir not been so curious about his sudden change in demeanour. He watched as Remus stood up slowly, his eyes trained on the entrance of the cave. “What is it?” Fenrir breathed. “What do you smell?”

Remus shook his head slowly, not once tearing his gaze from the small sliver of forest he could see through the creak in the stone. He couldn’t hear anything yet, but the scent kept getting stronger with every passing second.

Before Fenrir could say another word, Remus was out of the cave and back in the embrace of the forest. He moved quickly through the densely growing trees, returning to where he had first woken up that morning. Altair was already awake, and Alyna, both of them rolling their shoulders and wiggling their toes as they got used to their human forms again. Some of the other pack members were already stirring awake too, but a few were still fast asleep. Remus cast a silencing spell around them to isolate them from their surroundings.

“Everyone, get up and go,” he commanded, loudly. The last of the dozers blinked awake, looking around themselves curiously. “Get to the cave! Someone’s coming.”

“Who?” demanded Alyna, plucking a dry pine needle from her hair.

“I don’t know, it’s still too early to tell. It’s not a friend.”

She nodded. Poking at a few of her fellow werewolves to move, she started walking towards the cave. The rest of them hurried to stand and follow, and Remus watched as they scurried their way to safety. He couldn’t tell whether it was a vampire approaching them or a regular wizard, but he wasn’t keen on the pack being found in any case.

Altair, still by his side, seized him by the wrist. “I think something bad happened last night,” he whispered, hurriedly. “I can’t remember much, but I remember blood.”

Remus watched him quietly for a moment. “Come on,” he said, then. “We better not stay out in the open.”

The forest around the cave was thankfully dense, and after a few added protection charms, courtesy of Alyna, Remus was sure that they were safe from the prying eyes of whatever it was that was slowly making progress towards their hideout. He sat at the entrance with Altair across from him, leaning his head back against the stone wall.

Altair had reddish brown hair that flowed smoothly to his shoulders and a chiselled jaw that Remus sometimes thought about reaching toward and touching. He was quite a few years younger than Remus and had not been in the pack much longer than two years. He’d joined when he turned twenty, and Remus must admit that though Altair had not left the pack since then, not even for weekends or short getaways, he looked much healthier than when he first arrived. He had been bony, then, and badly beaten up. Now he had at least gained some muscle and gotten enough food to last for more than his basic bodily functions.

“We’d be terribly unlucky to be seen now,” Altair mumbled, not opening his eyes. He let out a quiet breath, and the soft hairs on his forehead wavered funnily. Remus thought he looked like a painting. “Is it getting close?”

Remus turned his head and closed his eyes, focusing all his attention on the most important one of his senses. The creature that was coming towards them, whatever it may be, was moving slowly. It was almost like it was scouring the forest in search of something. The scent got further away at times, then closer again. Stopped, started moving again. At the next whiff, something connected in Remus’s brain. “It’s definitely a human,” he said, quietly, straightening up against the cold wall. He looked up and attempted to get more out of the scent. 

“We’re all human, Lupin,” said Altair. “I say no to self-discrimination.”

Remus shook his head impatiently. “No. I meant that it’s not a… a half-human.”

“Is it a Muggle?”

“A wizard. Can’t you smell?”

“Been bloody stuffy, lately,” Altair grunted. “Do you reckon he knows we’re here?”

“Not likely. But he will soon if you don’t shut your mouth.”

Altair glared at him but didn’t say anything more. He, too, focussed his eyes on the sky, listening intently. They heard the crack of a tree branch somewhere nearby and looked at each other, then out at the woods. Another crack. And another. The wizard was moving quietly, carefully – but not quietly enough. They could basically follow his movements in the forest by the sounds of his footsteps alone.

A few eerily quiet moments passed, and then a man stepped into view. He wasn’t in their immediate range of vision, but he was close enough for Remus to get a good glimpse of him. He was moving not directly towards them but just past the trees covering them and the cave, which hid inside itself the rest of the pack.

Remus craned his neck and watched without daring to breathe. The man had long, curly black hair and high cheekbones. He strode in confident, slow steps, his chin held high, long jacket billowing gracefully behind him. His hands were in his pockets—gripping onto a wand, surely—and he looked around himself casually, as if he was trying to spot something but was trying to be sneaky about it. He must have known he was being watched.

“Do you recognise him?” mumbled Altair.

“Why do you think I’d recognise him?!”

“I don’t know. You smelled him from afar.”

Remus frowned. Truthfully, there was something peculiar about the scent. Somehow, he had been able to catch it from a long distance. And no, he had never smelled it before—he was sure he would remember such a vivid, unique scent—but it sparked something in him. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the clean, spicy scent. He could smell leather, too, and cigarettes, but somehow it didn’t repulse him – though that may have had to do with last night’s full moon and the hunger that always came with the transformation.

Neither he nor Altair dared breathe before the man had disappeared from view again. When he was sure to be far enough away from their camp, Remus stood up and promptly stepped back into the cave, Altair following close behind. Heads turned their way when they entered.

“Well?” demanded Bertha. She was the oldest of the pack, and Remus sometimes wondered whether she was one of Fenrir’s conquests too or if he had just accepted her to join. He had never dared ask. Now, the older woman stared him down with narrowed, yellowish eyes.

“A wizard,” Remus said, and if every pair of eyes hadn’t been trained on him before, they were now. “I think it was an Auror. But he was alone. I don’t think he would have done anything even if he’d seen us. Or—” Remus’s eyes flicked to Fenrir. There was still a dried trickle of blood trailing from his chin to his neck. A child’s blood. He shuddered at the thought of last night’s events.

“Or what?” Bertha snapped.

“He was clearly looking for something,” Remus said, slowly. His eyes met Fenrir’s, and all he received was a crooked smile. He wondered whether everyone else knew about what had happened overnight. Altair hadn’t. But Remus wasn’t even sure he wanted to know.

“Should we go after him?” Bertha chuckled, a wicked glint in her eyes. “Was he at least good-looking? Young?” She licked her lips hungrily. Remus thanked Merlin the next full moon was a month away.

“He’s gone now,” he muttered. “Let it be. He might have just been… I don’t know, collecting Knotgrass or something.”

Bertha gave him a long look but said nothing more. Slowly, everyone got back to what they had been doing; most of them went to lie down, ready to sleep away the tiredness and aches of their bodies. Remus himself went to his nook of the space and crouched in front of his rucksack, shoving in everything to take with him. Once he had fitted the last of his clothes and items inside, he pulled on the drawstrings and swung the rucksack over his shoulder.

When he stood up and turned around, he nearly bumped into Altair.

“Where are you going?” the younger man asked, eyeing the empty spot that no longer bore the weight of Remus’s scarce belongings.

“London,” Remus responded, stepping past him and towards the doorway. His intention had been to leave in the evening, but his mind was now freshly occupied with images of a child being bitten – by his pack – and he didn’t think he could stand the presence of Fenrir any longer. He didn’t look back as he walked but heard Altair’s footsteps right behind him the whole way to the entrance. They stepped outside, out of the others’ sight. Remus finally turned around.

“What’s in London?” Altair asked. He was standing uncomfortably close to Remus. Or, it would have been uncomfortable if Remus wasn’t so fond of him.

He shrugged. “Friends. Life.”

“You’ve friends here. And a life.”

“Yes, but…” Remus hesitated. He liked the pack. He liked feeling like he belonged, liked the feeling of safety and unity. And the wolf loved to be free and run around in the endless forests, to playfight his friends and chase rabbits and deer. But a life solely outside of the rest of the wizarding community… He was afraid he would forget who he really was if he didn’t tear himself away from the pack and take care of his responsibilities every now and then.

“He trusts you.”

Altair was looking at him calmly. Remus looked back at him and shook his head. “Fenrir doesn’t trust anyone. But he trusts himself to find me if I so much as put a toe out of line. Which I won’t, because the pack is all I have.”

“Then why do you feel the urge to go to London? Why not stay with us until the next full moon? If we’re all you have?”

Remus froze in place. His eyes met Altair’s, and he took a deep breath. He had tried explaining this before, but it was hard. Altair was very unlike him in some senses. “I’d like to enjoy my freedom now that I still have it,” he said, quietly.

Altair frowned. “What do you mean, ‘now you still have it’?”

“There’s a war on, Altair. Fenrir may be confident enough in our loyalty now, but things change. I won’t be surprised if there comes a time when he’ll no longer let us go off on our own.”

“Would that be a bad thing?”

“Maybe not to you. But to some of us…”

“Oh, piss off, Lupin. You claim not to have anything waiting for you out there, but you don’t see the rest of us running off, do you?”

“You’re allowed to. We all are.”

“Where would I go? I have no money. No family. I haven’t got friends outside of the pack, or a place to stay. I don’t think I’d even know how to act around normal civilisation!”

“It’s a good thing you get to stay here then, isn’t it?” Remus snapped. “I’ve got to go now, Altair. I’ve plans for the evening.”

“Of course, you do.”

Remus scoffed. “Just because I have a life outside of being a werewolf doesn’t mean you have to be bitter about it! Get out there and make friends if you’re so jealous!”

Altair’s jaw clenched. For a second, Remus thought he might get punched in the face. But then Altair stepped back and let his shoulders slump in defeat. “Go, then, if you have to,” he said weakly, gesturing with his hand to nothingness. “As long as you come back…”  

Remus tilted his head and regarded him with soft eyes. “My options are this and being locked away in a cell. You’ve nothing to worry about.”

“We won’t be here when you get back,” Altair continued, despite this. “Fenrir says we’re moving camp tomorrow. How will you find us?”

Remus’s mouth tilted up at one corner. “I always do.”

Altair gave a poor attempt at a smile. He patted Remus on the shoulder and turned to go. “Have fun in London,” he said, before disappearing back into the cave. Remus watched him go, and when he was sure Altair wasn’t coming back, he closed his eyes and apparated.

He landed just around the corner from The Leaky Cauldron, and just as he was about to step onto the street from the quiet alleyway, he caught his reflection in the broken window of the building to his right. He looked like a wreck. He performed a simple cleaning spell on his face and combed a hand through his hair, brushed his clothes down, and deemed that as good as he could do right now. With one last glance in the makeshift mirror, he stepped onto the busy street flooding with Muggles.

He slipped in through the door of The Leaky Cauldron and was immediately greeted by Tom, the balding bartender. He sauntered up to the counter and waved in greeting. “Good to see you again,” said Tom, bending down to go through one of the drawers. He straightened back up after a moment and handed a set of keys to Remus. “Enjoy your stay, Mr Lupin.”

“Actually, Tom, it’s Mr Howell from now on,” said Remus, giving a sly smile. “If you could just change the name of the reservation to that?”

“Oh, dear lord. What have you got yourself into this time?”

Remus grinned. “Couldn’t possibly tell you. Thanks, Tom.” He clapped the bartender on the shoulder and took off towards the staircase, the keys clinking happily as he twirled them around his finger. He heard Tom mutter something about getting too little credit for his work but did not turn to say that he wholeheartedly agreed. He jumped the stairs up to the third floor and pushed the key into the lock of room number 47.

Once inside, he threw his rucksack onto the worn armchair in the corner and crashed down on the bed. The whack was loud on the low-quality mattress, but it was far better than what Remus had been sleeping on for the past two weeks. He kicked off his trousers, set his wand on the night table and, not many minutes after closing his eyes, drifted to sleep. 

Chapter Text

When Remus woke up, it was already late afternoon. Light was pouring in through the blinds on the dirty window and he could see dust particles floating around the stuffy room. Marlene was always urging him to find somewhere nicer to stay, but she tended to forget he didn’t actually have a job to support himself.

Dragging himself out of bed, he padded his way into the bathroom and jumped into the shower. He stood beneath the low-pressure stream for at least a quarter of an hour and only got out when the water suddenly turned cold. Unsurprisingly, real showers were one of the things he missed most when staying with the pack.

Once he was clean and dressed in neat clothes, he felt more human again. He dug inside his rucksack to find his wand and coat before rushing out of the room. Down the spirally staircase and into the now crowded pub, he stopped and searched the place carefully. He spotted what he was looking for in the far corner of the room.

“Marlene!” he called as he approached the blonde woman sitting by herself, two full glasses of wine in front of her on the table. He dodged chairs and tables to get to her, careful not to bump into anyone. Marlene looked up at hearing his voice and broke into a wide grin.

“Remus!” she exclaimed, pushing her chair aside as she stood up and crashed into him. It had been six weeks since they’d last seen each other.

Remus wrapped his arms around her and laughed. “Hey, Marls.”

“Godric, I’ve missed you! You look terrible, dear. Was it a rough night?”

“Sort of. But hey, I’m here now. How are you?”

“I’m good, thank you.” Marlene smoothed her hand up and down Remus’s arm a couple of times, gently, before sitting back down and gesturing to the chair across from her. “I ordered you a glass as well, but you don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to.”

Remus smiled gratefully and took a sip of the liquid. It tasted sweet on his tongue, a welcome sensation after having not eaten anything properly delicious for the better half of a month – at least not in his human form. The wolf wasn’t picky, but then, it would hardly survive if it was. Over the past few weeks, something had kept scaring the deer and rabbits from the forests – no one in the pack knew what, but it wasn’t regular magic.

“James and Lily should be arriving soon,” Marlene said briskly. “I’m sure you’ll like them, Remus. They’re lovely. They have a son too, not many months old – I told you about him, didn’t I? I’m his godmother!”

Remus nodded, smiling at Marlene’s excitement. “That’s great to hear,” he said. “Er, about them, actually… Did you do what I asked you to?”

Up until recently, Remus had asked Marlene not to share anything about him to anyone. It was mostly a precaution with the societal gaps widening as the war grew more ominous, and really, Remus wasn’t there to make new friends. But last time he’d seen Marlene, she had insisted on introducing him to Lily and James Potter, her two friends from school. Not many days ago, Remus had finally agreed.

Marlene frowned, dismayed. She hated lying to her friends. Remus knew it, but it was a necessary measure of safety. “I did…” she said begrudgingly. “But—”

“Good. Wouldn’t want them knowing who I really am.”

“But you’re not registered, Remus. How would they know you’re a werewolf?”

“Marlene. If there’s even the slightest chance they might recognise my name, I won’t take the risk. I know they’ve got it written down somewhere. Please.”

Marlene bit her lip, the crease between her brows only growing. She could be so incredibly sanguine sometimes.

Finally, she sighed and nodded. “Okay, fine.”

“You told them I work with you at Gringotts, didn’t you?”

Marlene swatted her hand around impatiently. “Yes, yes, I did. But Remus… Romulus Howell? Could you be any more obvious?”

“Howell’s my mother’s family name. There’s no way anyone will ever think to look into it, it’s far too common. And at least it’s believable. I can’t be taking any risks.”  

“I suppose.” Marlene gnawed on her lip, a quizzical look on her face as she stared at the glass before her. Not many seconds later, she looked up to meet his eyes and nervously said, “But… Would they care? Even if they knew who you really are? Even if they knew you’re a—”

“Shh, Marlene!” he hissed. “Keep it down, please. And—I don’t know! It’s not like I’ve done anything. But Fenrir’s who they’re really interested in, and if they make that connection…”

“But you could just lie! It’s not like they can prove you’re with him. And even if they could, if you’re innocent, then…”

If you’re innocent. If. Remus trusted Marlene with his life, quite literally, and he was sure she felt the same, but sometimes, it wasn’t hard to notice that she belonged to a different class. She was privileged—not the most privileged, but higher up there than Remus, anyway.

Frustrated, he shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. They might know Remus Lupin is with Fenrir, but they won’t ever suspect Romulus Howell. And I can’t lie about being with Fenrir if I ever want to go back there again—and I do want to go back! It’s the only place where the wolf is happy.”

“What about you, then? Are you happy there?”

Remus watched the serious expression on her face, the pity showing in her eyes. He shrugged. “Happier than I’ve ever been anywhere else.”

Marlene pressed her lips tightly together and looked at the table as she took a sip from her wineglass. “Marlene,” Remus tried, gently. “It’s the only place where I can be myself. The only place where… where no one is going to judge me for what I am. The only place where I can be free.”  

Marlene sighed, forlornly. “Yes, I know, but… still! It just seems so harsh! And so… so very crude.”

“It can be,” he agreed, “But in a good way. I mean, I don’t really have to worry about anything but being there and finding food and the like, you know? And I don’t spend all my time there! I come and visit you between every moon, don’t I? I’m not completely isolated from the outside world.”

“Not yet, at least,” she muttered.  

“Marlene. I have no intention of fully moving in with the pack. At least not until… well, as long as I can leave whenever I want to, I’ll take advantage of that.”

“But what if he forbids you from leaving? What happens then? Are you going to abandon the pack for good, or are you going to say goodbye to whatever remains of your normal life?”

“I haven’t had a normal life since I was four years old. And I never will, ever again.”

Marlene deflated. “You’re right, Remus,” she said, sympathetically. “But I don’t think I could handle not having you around. I have to fear for your life as it is – Merlin knows how much sleep I’d lose over you if you were stuck there for good!”  

Remus didn’t answer. He didn’t think Marlene would ever understand the bond the pack shared, the happiness the wolf experienced when running around freely rather than being locked in a small space with nothing but its own tail to chase. He didn’t think she would ever understand that he would be able to live a happy life even if he was forbidden from leaving his pack. In fact, she was really the only thing he kept coming back for.

Just then, the bells at the front door chimed happily. Two people entered the pub: a man and a woman, holding hands, whispering something to each other with their heads bowed close together. Remus watched as they approached the table they were at, waving happily at Marlene when they spotted her.

Marlene rose to her feet. “Lily! James!” she exclaimed, striding forward to give them hugs. “I’m so glad you could make it! How are you? This is… this is the friend of mine I told you about.”

Remus stood up and greeted the newcomers with a composed smile. “Romulus Howell,” he introduced himself, shaking first the man’s hand, then the woman’s. He glanced furtively at Marlene, who was biting down on her tongue forcefully, looking nothing short of disapproving.

“James Potter,” the man said, smiling politely. His eyes trailed the scars on Remus’s face, amazement poking through. “Bloody hell… Marlene told me you work at Gringotts, but—”

“Dragons,” Marlene hurried to say. “Romulus, this is Lily. She’s also an Auror.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Remus, nodding at the red-haired woman. She nodded back, smiling a smile that looked somewhat wary. Her hand was back in James’s.

“Shall we sit down?” Marlene suggested, sensing the tension. Remus’s heart was pounding against his ribcage – what if they already knew? “We already ordered wine—oh, come on, Lils! Let your hair loose, sometimes.”

“I can’t,” Lily said, pulling nervously at her cuticles. “We had to ask Jenifer, our neighbour’s sixteen-year-old daughter, to look after Harry. Sirius was supposed to come, but he had to cancel last minute.” Lowering her voice, she added, “He mentioned something about a werewolf attack during last night’s full moon. Another one. I hope no one was injured…”

Marlene gaped at her and kicked Remus in the shin under the table, hard. The look she gave him was enough to send shivers down his spine. He swallowed dryly and busied himself with his wineglass. He had planned on telling her, of course, but it wasn’t exactly the sort of news you wanted to start a conversation with.

“I hadn’t heard,” Marlene said, hoarsely. “Where, um… Where did it happen?”

“Somewhere near Aviemore. In some small village, I heard. Godric, I can’t even begin to imagine… They should not roam freely! I get that a cage isn’t much fun for anyone, but it is only one night a month, and it would make so many people feel safer, knowing that there are no werewolves lurking in their backyards.”

Remus stared pointedly at a crack in the table in front of him, his hands clenching into fists beneath the table. Marlene seemed clueless about what to answer. Quickly, she said, “Should we order? I think we should order!”

They received menus from a nervous-looking waiter, and though James and Lily appeared oblivious to it, the atmosphere around their table had dropped tremendously. Remus knew they hadn’t meant to be rude—people rarely did when they didn’t know what they were talking about—but he could not shake his bad mood. His companions continuously voicing their concerns over whoever Sirius was and whatever he was doing in terms of the attack wasn’t helping. In any case, Remus would have to ask Marlene about the man later.

When they got their food, Remus perked up a little. He was ravenous, he came to notice, as he hadn’t eaten anything since the rabbit he had caught the night before. He downed half of his plateful in one go, then kept a conscious break to let the rest of them catch up. He didn’t feel satisfied even after finishing his own dish and whatever was left of Marlene’s once she announced she was full.

Remus did find himself warming up to Lily and James as the evening progressed. Werewolves and ‘other dangerous creatures’ did keep popping up in conversation throughout the night, but Remus himself had wanted to keep him being one himself a secret. It wasn’t their fault they were unaware of a werewolf sitting right in front of them. Sensing his rigidness, Marlene kept brushing her foot against his own, as if signalling to him not to lose his temper.

When Lily and James finally left, after three hours of them and Marlene blabbering endlessly and Remus putting in a few words here and there, he felt exhausted. He knew he shouldn’t have drunk anything – it was never a good idea after a full moon – but he didn’t think he could’ve got through the evening without a little help in the form of alcohol.

The door swung shut behind the two, which made Remus and Marlene the only people present in the pub. Remus folded his arms over the table and laid his forehead down on them, sighing partly in exhaustion, partly in relief.

“They’re nice, aren’t they?” Marlene prompted from across the table. She had been hiccupping for the past hour, and each time Remus thought it had stopped, another one followed.

“They’re nice,” he muttered, lifting his head to peer at her, “and they’re certainly Aurors.”

“Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad.” Marlene suddenly froze, looking down at her hands. “Remus, love… You never told me about a werewolf attack. Didn’t you say you’ve been in Scotland for the past who knows how many full moons?”

Remus placed his elbows on the table and groaned into his palms. “It was Fenrir,” he said, and when Marlene didn’t so much as breathe, he looked up to meet her eyes. The look on her face was nearing panicked. He couldn’t blame her. “I had nothing to do with it,” he grumbled, “but I wish I’d known before morning. I could have stopped it.”

“I didn’t think you had anything to do with it,” Marlene said, quietly. “But that’s… that’s horrible, Remus. I don’t know how you can possibly be with people like that. People like Fenrir Greyback.”

“I… I don’t know what to say to that, Marlene. I’d tell you I have no other choice, but we both know that’s not true. But like you said – as long as I’m innocent…”

Marlene heaved out a long sigh. Her hand came to grip Remus’s wrist, gently, and she rubbed her thumb around in slow circles. It was supposed to be soothing but it only made him more anxious.

“Of course, Remus,” she whispered. “It’s just hard for me to imagine you with someone so… so cruel. But I don’t blame you for seeking out the company of those alike you, of course not.”

Remus gave a weak attempt at a smile. A thought popped into his head then that he had nearly forgotten about. “Who’s Sirius?” he asked. “They said he was supposed to look after their baby, but then… Anyway, who is he?”  

“Sirius Black. He’s an Auror, too,” Marlene explained, lifting up a napkin and beginning to tear it apart with her fingers. She looked meekly at Remus. “I don’t know what he’s got to do with the attack – usually that’s the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures’ job. They’re the ones who usually…”  

“Hunt us down.”

“I suppose, yes. But only the bad ones.”

Remus bit his lip. We’re all bad ones to them, he thought to himself grimly. He didn’t say it to Marlene, who would have only objected and told him that that wasn’t true. She would have said that everyone knew that not every werewolf out there was bad or dangerous, or that at least she knew the truth. And he would’ve said that it wasn’t enough; that it would never be enough.

“Anyway, he’s Harry’s godfather and Lily and James’s best friend since forever. He’s really a nice bloke, though I do think he’s a bit full of himself—always has been, even back in school. But he’s very devoted to his job as an Auror.”

“Great,” Remus deadpanned. He could read the guilt on Marlene’s face.

“Remus,” she began, sounding bothered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want the evening to go like this. I wanted you to have fun. I was really, really excited for you to meet Lily and James. And I’m sorry if they were insensitive, but you did want to remain incognito…”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Remus sighed. “It’s all right, Marlene. I’m just… still very worn from the moon. I don’t think I should have drunk so much.”

Marlene tutted sympathetically. “Poor you. Should you go up and get some sleep? We’ll spend more time together later, okay? How long will you be staying?”

“I booked the room for two weeks. I’ll, um, send you an owl tomorrow? Or you can just come here and tell Tom you’re looking for me, he’ll know which room I’m in—oh, actually… I told him to call me Romulus now too, just to be sure. So, you know…”

Marlene pressed her lips together and nodded slowly. “Right,” she said. She smacked her palms to the table and pushed herself up. “I think we could both do with some rest. I’ll see you in a couple of days, eh?” She rounded the table and pulled him into a tight hug. He nodded against her shoulder.

“Okay.” 

“I love you so very much, Remus.”  

“I love you too,” Remus said, his voice muffled against her mane of hair. “Thanks for… everything.” For being my friend even though you know what I really am, he wanted to say. He nearly did, but he wasn’t looking for any more pity tonight.

“Of course,” Marlene said, squeezing him even tighter. It felt as though she knew exactly what he had left unsaid. “Of course, Remus.”

Chapter Text

“Oi! Up and out, cleaning service’s here.”

Remus scrambled backwards on his bed, shielding his eyes from the sunlight with his arm. Tom, up early as always, was standing next to the window, having ripped the curtains apart mercilessly.

“Jesus,” Remus muttered, slipping out from under the covers. He had never been happier about having chosen to wear a t-shirt to bed. “Could’ve knocked first.”

Tom flashed a cruel smile. “Got a tight schedule, Mr Howell. I already gave you an extra fifteen minutes, can’t spare any more time.”

“How generous of you…”

“Got someone waiting for you downstairs. That pretty blonde from the other night.”

Remus scowled at the innkeeper, pulling on a pair of trousers. “She’d kick your sorry ass in a duel.”

Tom cackled loudly. “Oh, I’ve no doubt about that.”

Marlene was dressed in her work robes, looking professional as ever. Remus checked the clock on the wall embarrassedly; it was already two in the afternoon. He hadn’t got in touch with Marlene again until yesterday, after a few of days of doing nothing but lounging around in his room. He had slept past noon on most mornings, too tired to do anything worthwhile.

“Rise and shine,” Marlene greeted him with a knowing smile. “You’re up early.”

“Shut up,” Remus murmured, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly. Locking himself inside four walls for half a week might not have been the smartest idea, as he’d been nursing a terrible headache since yesterday morning. It just felt pointless in a way, going round Diagon Alley by himself all day. He didn’t have anything he needed to buy, nor did his wallet allow him to eat out every day.

It had always been something he had struggled with. Growing up with enough money to live but none to spare, he had developed a certain respect for it. As a werewolf, he didn’t need much anyway – the pack provided him with everything he could ask for, and all the money he owned remained untouched in his vault in Gringotts. When he was in London, he mostly paid just for food and a room at the inn. Sometimes he found himself feeling stupid for being so wary with his spending. What was the point of subsisting if there may well come a time when he’ll no longer be able to set foot in Gringotts?

“I hope you weren’t busy,” Marlene said conversationally, though she knew Remus never was. “I thought about sending an owl but that seemed a bit formal.”

Remus smiled. “If you assume that I’ve been doing anything but rotting away in my room this whole time, then you don’t know me.”

Marlene tilted her head, looking at Remus with unwanted sympathy. “You should get out there,” she said, squeezing his arm. “Find a nice person somewhere and have a bit of fun while you’re still here. How long has it been since—?”

“Oh-kay,” Remus huffed, laughing as Marlene flapped her hands against her sides expectantly. “Marls, that’s not why I came to London. And if you think that werewolves for some reason must abstain from having sex… you’re wholly mistaken. It hasn’t been that long.” He looked at her amusedly.

“Okay, fine. I know nothing about werewolves’ sex lives, I admit it! But you’d have no trouble pulling just about anyone, and really, Remus, you deserve a bit of fun. You said it yourself, you’ve been rotting away in your room your whole stay.”

Remus gave her a tight smile. To change the subject, he asked, “What did you want to do?”

“Well, assuming you haven’t eaten anything today…”

“Count me in.” 

“Lunch is already cooking. I want you to meet someone.”

Remus halted mid-word, blinking stupidly at Marlene. “You do?” She grinned slyly. Remus grabbed the sleeve of her robes and tugged at it excitedly. “You do?”

“Yes!” she laughed, linking their arms to prepare for apparition. “Her name’s Dorcas. I sort of moved in with her last month… I’m sorry I haven’t told you, it just felt like a weird thing to tell via owl.”

Remus nodded. He had asked her not to get in touch with him when he was with the pack anyway, unless it was an emergency. She hated the rules he set for her, of course, but he didn’t want to risk Marlene’s name getting to Fenrir or any of the others. Besides, it would look suspicious, sending owls back and forth the whole time he was in the forest.

“Tell me more about her,” Remus said instead. He didn’t want Marlene to feel bad about not telling him sooner.

“She works at St Mungo’s,” she said proudly. “She’s a Healer. And she’s wonderful.”

Without any warning, Marlene tightened her grip on his arm and turned on the spot, yanking Remus with her. He felt the unpleasant feeling of his skull shrinking through the invisible layers of time, his body following after. When his feet hit the ground, he felt as though he had been on an uncontrollably spinning carousel.

“Bloody hell,” he huffed, bending over as Marlene’s arm slipped away from his. “You could’ve warned me!”

“Oh, stop whinging. I waited fifteen minutes for you in the pub, Sleeping Beauty.”

Remus scowled at her, rubbing his sore arm. “Didn’t know we were on a schedule…”

Marlene, already striding along a cobblestone path towards the house, did not stop to listen to him. Sourly, Remus followed her, only dropping his frown when he started taking in his surroundings. They were in some sort of a front garden, full of enchanted plants and colourful, singing flowers. Remus had no idea where they were, but it must have been far away from any Muggles.

The house itself was painted light blue, with white and ornate window frames. It almost looked like it was from a fairy tale. Remus raised his brows slowly.

“Oh, shut up,” Marlene smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “It’s her house, I can’t bloody well tell her to repaint it!”

The inside of the house did not match the outside: the walls were painted dark blue and covered in posters, not all of them magical. There was a dark, mysterious feel to the space. There were more plants than Remus could count, and every time he thought he’d seen the weirdest piece of décor to possibly exist, he rounded a corner and something even more peculiar popped up.

Marlene grinned at him over her shoulder. “Well? What’s the verdict?”

“It’s… so nice.”

“Marls? Is that you?” carried a bright voice from further inside the house. Marlene winked at Remus and took his hand, leading him towards another room.

“Remus is here!” she called out. There was an excited shriek, and soon a woman unknown to Remus emerged from what must have been the kitchen. She had a wide smile that showed all her pearly teeth and a head of dark curls that Marlene reached up to touch.

“Hey, love,” she said fondly, leaning in for a kiss. She turned to Remus next, “This is Dorcas, who I told you about. Dorcas, Remus.”

“I’ve heard everything about you,” Dorcas said, offering her hand to shake Remus’s.

“Oh,” Remus laughed nervously, glancing at Marlene. He profusely hoped she was exaggerating – everything was quite a lot to handle.

“Everything’s set in the dining room,” Dorcas announced, gesturing toward the open doorway. She pushed onto her tippytoes and smooched Marlene’s cheek. “Fetch the wine? I will show Remus to the table.”

Marlene disappeared into the hallway, and Dorcas placed a hand on Remus’s back and started guiding him out of the room. They entered a small space with a round wooden table in the middle and a small fireplace in one corner. On the mantelpiece sat a bunch of moving photographs, most of them of Dorcas and Marlene. Remus let his eyes linger, smiling at the way the two were beaming back at him.

“Marlene told me you’re a werewolf,” Dorcas said, casually, as she reached to straighten one of the serviettes on the table. There was a pot in the middle, and the scent rising from it immediately made Remus’s stomach growl.

“Of course she did,” he said. So, everything it was.

“I’m sorry if you would’ve wanted to keep it a secret,” Dorcas said apologetically. She gestured to one of the chairs and waited for Remus to sit down before following suit. “But I won’t tell anyone. I’ll act as if I don’t know. It really doesn’t matter that you are one, Remus. You’re still a human.”

Remus nodded, not entirely sure how to respond. Not many people outside of the pack knew what he was, so he hardly had to worry about how people would react. At least she was being nice about it.

He drummed his fingers to the underside of the table. There was a moment of awkward silence—he couldn’t exactly go into talking about the weather after what she’d said—before Marlene strode into the room, a wine bottle tucked under her arm. He’d never been more grateful. “Who wants some?” she boomed, holding the bottle up. Her expectant eyes landed on Remus. “You, yeah? Here, hand over your glass.”

“How was work?” Dorcas asked, lifting the lid off the pot and ladling food onto Remus’s plate. Marlene must have told her about his uncanny appetite as well.

Marlene shrugged. “Same old. Heard someone tried to enter their mother’s vault, had the key and everything, but she stormed in midway through and put a stop to it all. Huge scandal, as you can imagine. Reckon it’ll be on the front page in tomorrow’s Prophet.”

“What would’ve happened if they’d succeeded?” Remus asked, curiously. He had often wondered what awaited thieves who dared to try and break into Gringotts. He’d heard stories, of course, but he never knew what to believe.

“Well, it’s not like you can just walk into Gringotts, steal something, and return unscathed. In fact, I don’t think you’d be able to return at all.”

Remus nearly choked on a piece of meat. “Really?” he asked, coughing into his arm. Marlene reached over and hit him on the back a few times.

“So I’ve heard,” she said, settling back in. “Wouldn’t try if I were you, anyway.”

“When are you getting back to the pack, Remus?” Dorcas asked after a while, having finished her plateful. So far, they had tactfully avoided the werewolf thing, which Remus was grateful for. It wasn’t that he minded talking about it – he just wasn’t used to it. The majority of people he spent time with were werewolves themselves.

“End of next week,” he said, covering his mouth with his hand to avoid food spilling out. He was already on his second helping. “Next moon’s not for another two and a half weeks, though.”

Dorcas nodded as if she understood. She poured herself more wine. “Sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, talking about it.”

Remus waved her off, swinging his fork around and managing to plunge a cherry tomato across the table, where it flopped down sadly on the wooden surface. Marlene reached out to grab his wrist and carefully lowered his hand to the table. “It’s fine,” Remus said to Dorcas. “It’s not a touchy subject when no one’s around.”  

“Everyone should get to know you, Remus,” Dorcas said, her brows knitting together. “They’d see that not every werewolf is horrible—that most of them aren’t. I can’t begin to imagine how hard it is for you.”

Remus smiled. He didn’t know how to voice it aloud, but his chest was growing warm at her kind words. Marlene grabbed his hand over the table and squeezed it. “I’m with Dorcas on that one. If they’d get to spend an hour with you, they would already think differently.”

***

The following day, after Remus had spent nearly a whole week in his scrubby motel room, he finally listened to Marlene’s advice and stepped into the nightlife of Diagon Alley. It had been eternally long since he’d last been out like this, with the sheer purpose of having fun. He even dabbled on a bit of cologne, though it smelled so terrible he ended up having to rinse it off immediately.

Diagon Alley was surprisingly full of wizards that evening, most of them drunk by the sounds of it. He passed a group of cackling youngsters who were likely not even close to the legal drinking age and a posse of middle-aged witches who called after him like he was delicious prey. He sped up his steps and ducked into a quiet pub around the corner, where he was at least safe from the hungry hands of women double his age.

There were only a handful of other customers in the pub. Remus made his way to the counter, having to glance back to the street twice to make sure he hadn’t accidentally wandered to Knockturn Alley. Not only was the place grimy, but the people inside looked like they were all hiding something sharp in their pockets. 

Ordering a shot from the aging bartender behind the counter, he let his eyes rake over the place once more. He seemed to be the only one there who was alone, and though his goal hadn’t been at any point to leave with company, he found himself uncomfortable as the ninth wheel. Then again, none of the wizards around him looked like people he would dare to approach even if he was already ten shots down.

“Waiting for someone?” the bartender grunted at him. Remus whipped back around and nodded.

“Yes,” he lied, thinking it was the safest option.

The bartender sneered. “Shame,” he said, turning around.

“Can I have another one?” Remus asked, pushing the shot glass away from himself. Merlin knew he needed it.

That was how he spent the next half-hour: ordering overly expensive beverages and drinking them down to the last drop, no matter how watery and stale they tasted. It was all he could do to stop himself from leaving.

Suddenly, a strong scent invaded his nostrils. He inhaled it into his lungs, trying to connect it to a face in his mind. It was scarily familiar, but apparently not enough so for him to remember who it belonged to. He thought he could make out the smell of leather, but there were a lot of other smells around him that mixed his head up – most of which he thought stemmed from the sweaty old wizard to his right.

He focussed on his surroundings and tried to look around himself but saw no one he knew. It might as well have been the numerous drinks he had poured down his throat. Admitting his defeat, he turned back to the bar, twirling his half-finished pint in his hand. The bartender had long since grown bored of trying to talk to him. Remus thought it was time he ordered his last drink before heading off, and he downed the remains of his current one and waved his hand to get another.

“Keep that pace going and you’ll be out in no time.”

Remus whipped his head around in shock. At seeing the face, the memory immediately returned to him. He knew now where he remembered that leathery, cigarette-infused smell from: it belonged to the man he’d seen in the woods after the last full moon, mere days ago.

He was now facing that same pale, polished face, getting a proper look into the grey eyes that had looked rather devious in the forest’s dawn glow. He stared right into them, intrigued by how different they looked now that the man was smiling at him. His hair flowed down in shiny black waves, and he looked much less intimidating – although that might have had something to do with the fact that they were now inside and not in a forest. To add to it, he was wearing a white t-shirt beneath his leather jacket that portrayed none of that authority Remus had first sensed from his expensive-looking drapery.

“Did I catch you off guard?” the man asked, smiling amusedly at Remus’s silence. “Were you expecting someone? I can make myself scarce.”

“No,” Remus huffed, finally letting his shoulders drop. He didn’t think the man knew what he was. He wouldn’t have been so close if he did. “Sorry, what was your name again?”

“Sirius Black,” the man said, extending a hand towards him. Remus shook it, staring curiously at him. “And you are?”

The pieces clicked together in Remus’s head. So this was who Lily and James had been talking about the other night. The godfather of their son and, more relevantly, another Auror.

“Romulus. Romulus Howell,” Remus said. The name rolled off his tongue easily, like it was his own. “You’re an Auror, right?” he added then, to blow off suspicion.

“Yes,” Sirius said, a light frown forming between his dark brows. “How’d you know? Merlin, is it that obvious?” He glanced down at himself elaborately.   

Remus chuckled despite himself. “A friend of mine knows some of you—her name’s Marlene McKinnon. She works at Gringotts, but you might be more familiar with James and Lily Potter? Only, they once mentioned your name.”

“Why, won’t you look at that?” Sirius grinned. “It really is a small world – I went to school with all of them. Never was too familiar with Marlene, but she’s nice. Romulus, you say? What an interesting name.”

“Creative parents.”

“Clearly. And what do you do, Romulus Howell? It’s only fair you tell me since you already seem to know everything about me.” The smile Sirius gave him was disarming.

“Not everything,” Remus said, letting his eyes rake Sirius’s body for only a fleeting moment. It might have been interpreted as a flirtatious gesture, but mostly, Remus was measuring the likelihood of Sirius winning him in a race—if it came down to that. They shouldn’t, in all honesty, have even been talking. Of course, it was an unfair setting when Sirius had never even heard of him before. “I work for Gringotts, like Marlene,” he explained.

“Ah. Must be top secret, then. I’ll spare you the trouble and stop myself from asking any more questions.”

Remus offered him a smile. Wrath was untangling in his stomach, eager to make itself known. Before him stood a man who would have rather made sure Remus wasn’t on the free—that was, of course, if Sirius had had any idea about any of it. Some petty part of Remus quite enjoyed knowing that whatever lie he fed to Sirius, he was likely to eat up without hesitation.

The bartender came up to them, plopping a fresh pint in front of Remus on the table. “Two Firewhiskeys,” Remus said to him, holding up two fingers. The bartender nodded and turned away again.

“Do you live here in London?” asked Sirius. He had sat himself down on the barstool next to Remus’s, letting their knees knock together as he swung from side to side slowly. He seemed to be stone-cold sober, and Remus suddenly regretted having downed half the bar in the span of forty-five minutes.

“Here and there,” he replied vaguely. “I move a lot for work.”

Sirius hummed, sounding intrigued. His fingers drummed against the table. “And what is it exactly that you do?”

Remus gave a sly smile. “You promised not to ask any further questions.”

“I lied.”

“You’re putting me in a very difficult position, Sirius Black.”

The corner of Sirius’s mouth tugged up. He smirked at Remus, then turned to accept the Firewhiskey the bartender offered him. He took a slow sip, eyeing Remus with a smug look on his face. “What are you staring at?” he quipped, knocking his boot against Remus’s.

“Nothing,” Remus said. He knew he was playing a dangerous game. Sirius would have likely hexed him on the spot if he’d known his true identity. But the chances of Remus somehow exposing himself tonight were low, and he was rather enjoying his moment of power. What harm could flirting with an unsuspecting Auror do?

Other than that Remus would most likely get killed by his pack if any of them found out, of course.

“It’s peculiar, Romulus, that I’ve never heard of you,” Sirius said thoughtfully. He twirled his whiskey glass in his hand. “I often see Marlene around, after all, and I used to work in quite close proximity with the staff of Gringotts.”

“Hundreds of people—and Goblins—work at Gringotts. Do you think they tell you everything?” Remus quipped. It was enough for Sirius to drop the subject; he simply raised his brows, pretending to be offended, and turned to gulp again from his glass. Remus watched his Adam’s apple bop with every swallow. He was feeling cruel. Not that Sirius had done anything to him personally – it was just the principle of it.

“Can I offer you another drink?” asked Sirius, shortly, after he had finished his own. “Or, I think it’s my turn to offer you one.”

Remus huffed. “I think I’ve had enough for one night,” he said, and he truly felt like it. He pushed what was left of his Firewhiskey away from himself.

“If you say so.” Sirius tapped his fingers to the table, loudly, and the bartender scurried over. “A Butterbeer, please, but slip a little bit of something extra in there,” he requested. The bartender, by now vexed that he was being beckoned over continuously, nodded and went to prepare the drink. Sirius turned back to Remus. “Are you a colleague of Marlene’s, then?”

Remus considered this – only because he had to think of a way to sound convincing without throwing Marlene under the bus. He wasn’t feeling so clever anymore. “Not really,” he said, slowly. “We work in very different fields. She’s a curse-breaker, as I’m sure you know.”

“That was my way of asking you what your field is,” Sirius prompted.

Remus’s neck felt hot, and he rubbed at his chest as he yet again had to find a vague enough answer that would still be enough to please Sirius. He hoped he could play it off as being uncertain about how much of his ‘top secret’ work he could share with a stranger. “I work with dragons,” he said, finally. At least if Sirius ever pried for more information about him from Marlene, James, or Lily, the stories would match.

“Dragons?” Sirius repeated, not even trying to hide his surprise.

Remus laughed. “Is it that hard to believe?”

“Don’t get me wrong, you look very… tough. I just—well, never mind that. Do you tame them or what?”

Remus wanted to get up and leave. How was he going to answer all of Sirius’s questions now? He hardly knew anything about dragons. Why couldn’t Marlene have said that he worked as a Runes translator? Or a secretary? He cleared his throat, regarding Sirius with a quizzical look. “I shouldn’t say too much,” he tried, “but no. The dragons in Gringotts aren’t exactly tame, are they? I… take care of them.” 

“Tell me more.” Sirius had inched closer on his stool, looking genuinely interested.

“Nope, enough of that. You’ll get me fired.” Remus pushed him away playfully, laughing at Sirius’s pout.

“Fine,” Sirius dragged out, a smile tugging at his lips. He took a sip of his spiked Butterbeer and made a face as he swallowed, although Remus was pretty sure it was only for the show.

“What about you, then?” he asked. “I know you’re an Auror, but exactly what does an Auror do?”

“Don’t act stupid, Romulus. You know bloody well what Aurors do.”

“Do I?” Remus countered slyly.

Sirius cocked an eyebrow. Eventually, he sighed, as if it took a lot of effort to tell. “Well, lately, it’s been a lot of trying to convince people not to pick the wrong side. You know, in the war and all.” He closed his mouth quickly, as if afraid he’d said too much.  

Remus hummed vaguely. His heart was jumping unpleasantly in his chest – he was starting to feel he might have flown a bit too close to the Sun.

“It’s been quite stressful lately,” Sirius continued in spite of himself.

“How come?” Remus asked. He wasn’t sure why he did. He didn’t want to know.

Sirius sent him a sideways look. He considered his words for a moment, then shook his head and gulped from his pint. “I shouldn’t be telling these things to strangers. Just… there have been quite a lot of attacks, lately. Giants and werewolves, mostly, but other dark creatures too. We have suspects but no proof, no knowledge of their whereabouts. It’s all very complicated. I feel like I’m running around in circles.”

He let out a humourless laugh, gesturing to his drink. “And now I’m here, avoiding the workload I have waiting for me in my office. It’s not like sitting in a pub will do anything to help – unless a werewolf comes find me and offers me a drink.” He smiled gloomily.

Again, Remus felt the sudden urge to flee. He considered just paying for his drinks, grabbing his things, and running away. But on the other hand, if he simply kept pretending he hadn’t done exactly what Sirius feared… How would he ever find out?

“That sounds terrible,” he said. “I hope you’ll catch whoever it is you’re looking for, eventually.”

Sirius hummed absentmindedly. Remus just wanted to change the topic and perhaps call it a night. If he kept going any longer, he might really let something crucial slip. Wouldn’t that be comical? he thought to himself, Being found out like this? Fenrir wouldn’t even be mad, he would just laugh at Remus’s stupidity.

“I should get going,” he said, pushing himself up from his stool. “Work in the morning…”

Sirius nodded, looking somewhat disappointed. “Guess one of us has to be smart like that,” he said, standing up as well. He dug inside his pocket and left a pile of sickles on the counter. “Mind, I’ve an early morning ahead of me as well. You’re doing both of us a favour.”

Remus smiled tightly, shoving his hands in his pockets. Sirius smiled back before extending his arm out. After a moment of confusion, Remus finally realised he expected them to shake hands. “It was good to meet you,” Sirius said, squeezing Remus’s hand self-assuredly. “Give Marlene my best when you see her, eh?”

“Of course,” Remus said quickly.

Sirius pulled his hand back and jerked his thumb towards the door. “Better head off, then. Hopefully we’ll meet again.” He started towards the door and hollered out a thank you to the bartender before Remus could get a word out of his mouth. Outside, he disappeared around the corner, his long hair twirling behind him in the wind.

That was the last time Remus would hear from Sirius Black for four weeks.

Chapter Text

It was already late evening when Remus finally returned to the pack. The full moon was still a few days away, and they had taken over the ruins of an old castle for shelter.

Remus looked around himself. The place looked far better than their last, the cave at the edge of the woods. The pack was scattered about the forest in front of the ruins, but Fenrir was nowhere to be seen, nor was Altair. When Remus asked Karina, she said the latter had been inside all day and they had decided to leave him alone. It was an untypically warm evening for May, and though Karina asked him to stay outside with them, Remus refused. He gestured to the rucksack hanging over his shoulder and promptly made his way indoors.

On the inside, the castle wasn’t far from cosy, what with a fire burning in the fireplace and the protection spells once again creating a safe bubble around them. Remus jumped up the stairs and found a small room with five makeshift beds in it. All of them seemed to be reserved to someone, singular items scattered on them as placemarks, but only one was occupied. Altair was sitting on one dirty mattress, fiddling with a piece of fabric in his hands.

“Hey,” Remus said, smiling down at Altair’s baffled look.  

“Hey,” Altair breathed. His face seemed to light up. He set the piece of fabric down and Remus noticed the stain of blood on it, dry now but not old. Altair cleared his throat. “This… I just cut myself in the woods today.” He showed the backside of his forearm, where a deep line of red cut through his already uneven skin. It didn’t look infected, thankfully.  

“Clumsy you,” he said, smiling softly as he sat down beside the other man. “Why haven’t you healed it?”

Altair shrugged.

“Here, let me.” Remus took him by the wrist and pulled out his wand, muttering a simple healing charm. The dried blood disappeared and the wound faded. He tucked his wand away again. “Why aren’t you out with the others?”

“Just… tired and all. I thought you weren’t supposed to get back until tomorrow?”

“I had nothing left to do in London. Listen, I’m sorry about how things left off. I know you don’t have much outside the pack, and I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

Remus had practised his apology for some hours earlier that day, eager to clear the air between him and Altair. In times like these, they couldn’t be turning against one another.

Altair shook his head dismissively. “It was wrong of me to shame you for leaving. I’d be going too if I had a reason.”

Remus offered something smile-like. He squeezed Altair’s arm. “You should come with me, sometime. That would be a reason.”

“Would you take me with you?”

Remus nodded. He didn’t know why he hadn’t before. Perhaps he had always assumed Altair would not leave even if the opportunity presented itself. “Next time, maybe? I’ve been staying at a scrubby inn, so it’s not that glorious, but… it could be nice. I could introduce you to Marlene.”

Altair laughed, a breathy, relieved sort of thing. “Yes, okay. I’d like that, I think.”

“Great. We’ll leave after the moon.”

Altair nodded. He was smiling tentatively, and a feeling of warmth overcame Remus. They were alone in the room and Altair was sitting closer now. Remus licked his lips.

“How have things been here?” he asked.

“Dull,” Altair replied. “Everyone’s been… rigid. I’ve missed you.”

Remus swallowed. For a long time, he’d kept a fair distance between himself and Altair. They flirted sometimes, sure, and spent plenty of time together, but there was a sort of brotherly love in Remus’s chest towards him – or that was what he’d been telling himself. In moments like these, he wasn’t so sure.

Slowly, Altair’s hand curled around the back of Remus’s neck. Remus didn’t stop him. “You’re so sweet, Remus,” the younger man said, moving his fingers carefully back and forth. “Can I kiss you?”

Barely giving it a second thought, Remus nodded and closed his eyes. First their lips grazed, then their tongues. His heart bounced to his throat. It wasn’t unusual for the pack members to get off with each other, but Remus didn’t think Altair had ever touched any of them like that. He was almost glad he hadn’t; Remus would rather have saved him from the hungry hands of Fenrir.

“Remus?”

Remus forced himself to pull away. The taste of Altair’s mouth lingered on his lips, tempting as ever. “Yeah?” he breathed.

Altair sounded hesitant. “You don’t… you don’t have anyone, do you? Out there?”

Remus opened his eyes. Altair was watching him gravely, as if Remus had done something and he was expecting a confession. But Remus simply shook his head. “No. I haven’t been with anyone for a while. Not outside of the pack.”

Altair nodded. “With someone from the pack, then?”

“You know I have.”

“But they’ve never meant anything.” Altair’s words didn’t form a question. It might have sounded like an accusation, but his voice wasn’t bitter or pressuring. He was simply trying to understand.

Again, Remus shook his head. “It’s been nothing but a need.”

“No?” Altair cupped Remus’s cheek with his hand, stroking a thumb over one of his age-old scars. Remus shuddered.

“No.”

“Not even fear?” Altair leaned closer now, and Remus found himself holding his breath when they kissed again. It was only a short thing, a brief touch that left him wanting more. “You haven’t been with Fenrir because you’re afraid of him?”

“I’m not afraid of him,” Remus whispered. It was the truth. He was only afraid of what he would be without Fenrir.

“But he doesn’t mean anything to you.”

“Not more than what he means to you.”

Their faces were so close together now that their noses kept bumping together. They were whispering even though there was no one else in the room.

“I’d like for this to mean something,” Altair whispered, so quietly Remus could barely hear it. He tilted his head to the side and caught Remus’s lips in a kiss that made his heart jump up and down ridiculously fast. It did mean something to him. He and Altair may not have been in love, but they did love each other—and the attraction was certainly there too. 

Maybe it was their love for each other that was the reason for why they had never done this before, or even talked about it. Remus felt the need to protect Altair, not pull him into something he might later regret. “Wait, Altair,” he said for this very reason, pushing the other man away. “Have you… have you not done this before?”

Altair looked delighted. He laughed, all of his crooked teeth showing. “You’re silly, Remus. Of course I have. But that doesn’t mean I go about having mindless sex with everyone for the sheer purpose of seeking pleasure.”

Remus blinked. “Right…” he said, stupidly. His own experiences with sex didn’t really go past meaningless.

Altair swept a strand of hair behind Remus’s ear. “Would this mean something to you?” he asked. His other hand came to rest on Remus’s lower belly, fingers snaking beneath the hem of his shirt. Remus pressed his eyes shut.

“Yes,” he managed. “Yes, which is why I don’t think we should do this…”

Altair’s breaths were hot against his neck. “Why, Remus?”

Remus couldn’t answer that, not with Altair’s hand sliding to his hip and his lips moving to his throat, where he let them stay long enough for Remus’s mind to start going foggy. He didn’t know why, anymore.

Desperately, he pulled Altair down with him, pressing their bodies flush together. He couldn’t form a coherent thought, let alone worry about someone walking in on them going at it in one of the shared bedrooms. As if any of them would care. They would laugh and leave, then quip a prickly comment in the morning and forget about it.

Miraculously, no one showed up. By the time Deomiorix walked into the room and lied down on his own mattress, Remus had already put his shirt and pants back on and was lying beneath a worn blanket that barely did anything to warm him up. Altair, on the other hand—fast asleep already—provided Remus with all the warmth he could ever have asked for. His skin felt hot against Remus’s and his even breaths tickled his neck as they came and went. Deomiorix only raised an eyebrow and turned his back.

Remus lay awake for Merlin knew how long, replaying in his head Altair’s careful but intent movements, the way his eyelids had gently fluttered shut as if in a trance. He had been quiet but not shy. Unlike any of the other pack members Remus had had sex with, Altair hadn’t been urgent or ravenous when he had picked Remus apart with his bare hands; unlike the others, he had put the pieces back together. He had kissed Remus softly after they had dissolved into nothing but a pile of sweaty limbs still intact to a fuzzy brain and buzzing organs and whispered something comforting in his ear. Then he had asked Remus to sleep the night next to him and fallen asleep shortly after.

And there Remus lay. Had he crossed a boundary? They had both wanted it, probably for longer than either of them would have dared admit.

Remus could see through the open doorway as the last of the pack members sauntered into one of the many hollow rooms now functioning as bedrooms. He saw Karina and Alyna and Mattias. But he did not see Fenrir, and that if anything made him calm.

***

In the morning, Remus woke up to the loud snoring that boomed from the bed next to Altair’s, positioned conventionally so that Deomiorix was practically growling directly into Remus’s ear. He threw his blanket over his face and rolled onto his other side. Altair, though seemingly half asleep, snaked an arm around his waist. It made Remus smile. 

Someone stopped in the doorway. Remus knew who it was before he even turned to look; he recognised the foul smell. Fenrir sneered at him, drawling, “Pity. I was hoping you would’ve joined me last night, but…” He cast a menacing look Altair’s way before promptly continuing his walking. Beside Remus, Altair stirred again.

“If I had to name the most disgusting human being on Earth, I’d say it’s him.”

“Shh!” Remus hissed. “Christ, do you want him to hear?”

Altair didn’t answer. He stretched his arms over his head and rolled onto his stomach, opening one eye to peer at Remus. “Last night was lovely,” he said. “I haven’t slept this well in months.”

Remus wished he could say the same. It had been lovely, yes, but he’d spent the majority of the night tossing and turning, trying to seize sleep with little success. When he had finally dozed off, he had dreamed of walking in on Altair and Fenrir shagging in the forest. They had both turned to look at him cruelly. It had been more of a nightmare, really. It wasn’t that Remus couldn’t bear the idea of Altair having sex with someone else – he just couldn’t have borne it being Fenrir.

“What’s going on in there?” Altair tapped his temple gently.

Remus jerked away. “Nothing,” he muttered. He began to get up, but Altair stopped him with a firm hand. His eyes looked concerned.

“Did I do something wrong? Do you regret sleeping with me?”

“No! No, that’s not—I don’t, I swear. It’s… it’s stupid, really. I just slept really poorly.”

“How come?”

Remus swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Promise me you’ll never do anything with Fenrir,” he uttered, the sentence merging into a barely comprehensible litany of words. He ducked his head.

A laugh tumbled out of Altair. “What?” he huffed. “Remus, what do you mean?”

“I just want you to stay away from him. He’s a terrible person, Altair, and the last thing I want is for you to get involved with him and end up hurting yourself.”

“Look,” Altair sighed, his hand coming up to grip Remus’s shoulder, “If you haven’t noticed, I have no trouble avoiding him. It’s you who should stay away from him.” Remus lifted his gaze. Altair was half-smiling at him, eyes knowing. He squeezed Remus’s shoulder once more. “I don’t much like you being close to him, either. But you needn’t worry about me. You should worry about yourself.”

“I’m older than you,” Remus said, and he knew it was a weak argument before the words had even left his mouth. Altair tilted his head to one side, unimpressed.

“That’s not what I meant. I get that you two have history, but you shouldn’t feel obligated to please him when he wants it.”

“It hasn’t been like that,” Remus hurried to explain. “He hasn’t forced me into anything, he… he isn’t using me. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Maybe not. But he’s sick and twisted, Remus, and I’d hate for you to give someone like that so much power.”

Remus swallowed. He looked down at his hands again. Before he could think it through, his brain had already made the decision to speak. “When I first got here,” he began, voice wavering slightly, “I didn’t have anyone. None of us do, I get that, but… I was quite young, like you were. And Fenrir was the only one who treated me at least somewhat kindly. And I loathed him, I really did, and most nights I thought about strangling him to death, but I also admired him. I looked up to him, in a way. And I know that’s sick, and I should have known better, but he was the only one I felt connected to. Maybe it was all simply a game for him, but to me it was the only way of not feeling like a complete outsider. I thought he really cared about me.”

“He did. He does. He cares for all of us, Remus, because if he didn’t, we wouldn’t be here. But it isn’t the sort of caring we deserve. We’re not his puppets or… or we don’t deserve to be, at least. We don’t deserve the crooked possessiveness he has over us. Yes, he provides us with a home and what not, but it’s because of him that we need it, isn’t it? We don’t owe him anything. It’s the other way round.”  

“I don’t disagree with you,” Remus muttered. “But I mean what I said. I thought he cared about me.”

“Yes, and I can’t blame you for that. If he knows anything, it’s how to be manipulative. But I hope you don’t go to him out of all people for—”

“I don’t,” Remus said, quickly. “I haven’t for a long time. I don’t want to depend on him.”

Altair smiled. He looked incredibly soft, illuminated by the rays of sun that tentatively creeped into the room. Despite Altair being no more than four years younger than him, Remus saw a light in his eyes that he himself had not felt for years. It was perhaps the knowledge that not all hope had yet been lost. Or maybe it was him coming to the realisation that nothing would ever change, and therefore he should not dwell on it but rather embrace everything that might come his way. Whatever it was, Remus wanted to learn, too.

***

The days preceding the moon never went smoothly with the pack. They all understood each other’s pain, but that didn’t make up for the fact that they were all irritated and aching and impatiently waiting for the relief that came with turning into a wolf for a night. They rarely fought in a serious manner, but if they did, it was during those crucial few days before the full moon made itself present.

Often, it was Bertha who started the bickering, as was the case that day. They had woken up—Remus once again in Altair’s bed—and she had already been wearing a sour look on her face. When confronted about it, she had merely muttered that they were all a bunch of kids who could not do anything for themselves. It often was like that with her: being older, she clearly regarded the others as inferior to her. She listened only to Fenrir—worshipped him, even. The rest of them she treated like lice in her bedsheets.

After eating breakfast, Altair and Remus quietly made themselves scarce, sneaking to the smallish hill near their current place of residency. It was once again pleasantly warm, and they got rid of their shirts and lay there on the still-cool grass, looking up at the sky dotted with an odd cloud. It was as though the gods above had taken away the wind; not even the hays surrounding them flickered. 

“I feel sorry for them.”

Remus turned his head to look at Altair, who was lying there with his eyes closed. His hair glowed coppery in the sunlight. “Who?” Remus asked.

“Those who will never get to experience this.”

Remus regarded him for a moment longer, quietly. He turned to look at the sky again. “They probably pity us, too.”

“Of course they do. But they’re so narrowminded. They think living a luxurious life means having a shit ton of money and spending it on jewels and expensive cauldrons, when actually, it’s about getting to live freely. Freedom is luxury.”

Remus furrowed his brows. He followed the movement of a dragon-shaped cloud with his eyes. “Are we, though?” he asked, “Free?”

“Well, no one ever is, truly. But it depends on how you look at it. I’d rather be free like this, tied only to loyalty.”

“I suppose.”

A flock of birds flew over them, wings flapping in a unified rhythm. They were truly free, Remus thought to himself. If he was a bird, he could go anywhere he wanted; leave everyone behind forever. No one could find him, nor would they try to. He’d be a bird – he’d pose no threat to anyone. He wouldn’t mean anything to anyone. Wouldn’t that be freedom at its finest?

“We’d be free forever if we could stay as wolves,” was what Altair said next. He sounded almost longing.

“We’d still be hunted. We’d have to fight against… I don’t know, bears and shit.”

Altair snorted. He glanced at Remus. “If your idea of freedom is utter safety, then you’re wrong, too. You’d have to live in a bubble to be free of all danger, and that’s basically the opposite of being free. What I meant is that we’d no longer be the dregs of society. We’d be near the top of the forest’s hierarchy if we were purely wolves. We’d no longer have to juggle between being human and animal. We could truly call the forest our home.”

Remus sighed. “If only it were that easy.” 

Chapter Text

It wasn’t common for a werewolf to harm another animal – not for no reason, anyway. But when hunger was gnawing on its insides and the wolf saw a deer, it would not stop running until it either reached it or lost sight of it. In the small section of Remus’s brain that was not entirely controlled by animal instinct, he felt a tad of empathy toward the animal when his teeth sunk into its flesh and pierced its fragile body. But the wolf in him only saw food and the opportunity to prove to its pack that it, too, could be of use.

He could feel the frantic pulse of the deer come to a slow stop, could feel it go limp beneath his weight. He turned his head, ready to see if the others had been looking, but he saw no one. The forest seemed empty, save for him, the lifeless deer at his feet, and the glowering Moon up in the sky. Panic spiked in him; it was that human part of him again that seemed to be stronger tonight than ever before. What if they were on the hunt for something other than animals now?

He craned his neck, tilting his head all the way back, and howled. It was a desperate attempt, but he couldn’t just stand still and hope for the best. Even when the beast inside him took control, Remus could tell good from evil. He sniffed the air. They couldn’t have been far—he couldn’t have been chasing the deer for that long.

He howled again, then waited. From the distance, he could hear someone howl back. It was only a faint sound, but he connected it to that of one of the females. The knot in the wolf’s stomach eased. He didn’t have to wait long for the pack to arrive in the clearing. They were all there: no one was in a village or near anyone they could truly have harmed. In that moment, everything was right as it should’ve been.

***

In the morning, Remus woke up to the taste of blood in his mouth. He remembered the deer, how they had feasted on it for half an hour until nothing but bones and skin had remained. He remembered the wolf feeling proud and happy. And he remembered his thoughts. That jostled him awake better than the sunlight aimed directly at his face; he could often recall how he had felt as a wolf, but he rarely remembered anything rational that had gone through his head. Granted, ‘rational’ usually didn’t go in the same sentence with ‘werewolf’.

Beside him, Fenrir stirred awake. He sat up, weather-beaten face bleary with sleep. When his eyes met Remus’s, he smirked. “Quite a kill you got last night, Lupin. Though it would’ve been embarrassing if you hadn’t caught it with how far you chased it.”

“I… lost myself a bit, I guess.”

“I’d tell you not to worry about it, but I can’t comprehend how a wolf can bloody forget about himself,” Fenrir grunted, mirth suddenly gone from his features. “I wouldn’t have been surprised if you had transformed back into yourself halfway through the night.”

Remus gaped. Had it really been that bad? He knew it wasn’t possible to transform back mid full moon, of course not, but he had felt more human than ever before as a wolf. Had they all noticed?

“We thought something bad had happened. You sounded so panicked.” This was Karina, who had apparently woken up earlier than them; she was fully dressed already. Beside her stood Altair, in full clothing too. He eyed Remus dubiously.

Remus gulped. “Did I?”

Altair nodded slowly. The look on his face revealed something: Remus’s peculiar behaviour hadn’t gone unnoticed by anyone. “You did. We ran straight to you. But nothing was wrong, was it?”

“No, I… I don’t know what happened. Must’ve, er, been a bad night for me.”  

Fenrir’s eyes narrowed. “Must have.”

Altair stepped forth and roughly took Remus by the arm. “Come,” he mumbled, then promptly pulled Remus with him. Remus acciod his clothes to him, pulling them on hastily as he stumbled behind Altair all the way to the castle.

Once inside the ruins and out of reach of the others’ hearing, Altair turned on him. “Seriously, Remus,” he hissed, “What was up with you last night?! You sounded like someone had cornered you, but when we got to you, you were standing over a bloody deer! It’s no wonder everyone’s confused!”

Remus covered his face with his hands and groaned loudly into them. He remembered being terrified at seeing everyone gone, but he hadn’t realised the rest of the pack had sensed it too. Which, in hindsight, made no sense. Of course they had sensed it – they were his own.

“It wasn’t a scream of elation, Remus.”

“I know.” Remus lifted his head and gulped. “I… I thought you’d gone to a village nearby. You know… found someone to attack.”

Altair’s shoulders slumped and a frown formed on his face, as if he was offended. “You thought… you thought we had run off to kill somebody?”

Remus huffed. “Well, of course I didn’t think you’d hurt anyone!” he said, gesturing with his arm towards the door, “But you can’t blame me with how often Fenrir’s slipped these past few moons! I’m surprised no one else is reacting to his… his conquers.”

Altair’s face screwed with disdain. “You’re calling them his conquers? That’s messed up!”

“That’s what he calls them! My point is, yes, I was a little frightened last night when everyone had suddenly disappeared, because I thought there would be another werewolf attack that I’d be hearing about in the morning!” The last part, he shouted so loudly that Altair stepped back a little, jostled.

He clenched his jaw. “It was you who ran away from us.”

“I didn’t know that,” Remus muttered.

A clank came from the doorway, and both their heads whipped around. Remus relaxed at seeing that it was not Fenrir but Karina. “I’m sorry,” she said, wincing. “I wasn’t supposed to eavesdrop, but I heard you say… Have there been a lot of attacks, lately?”

Remus blinked at her. He glanced at Altair, who was still looking sulky, and then back at Karina, and sighed. “Yes,” he said, “I thought everyone knew. They’ve all been in The Daily Prophet, obviously.”

“I don’t read it,” Karina shrugged.

“Right.”

“Of course, I’ve heard Fenrir bragging—terrible, terrible things—but I never thought it was all true. That it’s all happening right now…” 

“Just be glad you haven’t been a part of it,” Remus murmured. He realised it was a mistake right after, as Altair’s eyes snapped to him warningly.

“Of course I haven’t,” Karina said, frowning. Her eyes flicked between the two of them. “I’d never do that.”

“I’m not saying you would! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that! But… it is happening—has been for quite a few moons now. This last one was an exception, thank Merlin.”

Karina nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I’m sure he wouldn’t be happy if he heard that that’s the reason you were all frantic last night.”

“I wasn’t frantic!”

Altair gave him a pained smile. “Yeah, you were.” Karina nodded in confirmation.

“Bugger. Well, you’re right. He wouldn’t be happy.” Remus let out a humourless laugh, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Now everyone will be suspecting me.”

“I doubt it. It was a bit weird, but surely they’ll already have forgotten about it come evening, or by tomorrow at the latest. Well, Fenrir might not, but that’s just who he is. He’s always keeping an eye out for one of us turning on him.”

Remus bit down on his lower lip, guiltily. “I’m not turning on him.”

“Of course you’re not! He just thinks that any of us might at any point—or so it seems.”

Remus nodded thoughtfully. What he really wanted to know was how they were going to stop Fenrir from doing any more harm. Talking to him wouldn’t help, that was for certain – Remus had tried, and all it had led to was him being laughed at and then getting treated coldly for the next two weeks by Fenrir himself. Many a time. You would have to be the most powerful person on Earth to be able to beat some sense into Fenrir, and even then, you might not succeed.

“Have they all been children?” Karina whispered into the silence.

Remus sniffed, giving a stiff nod.  

“Oh, lord. I wish… I wish we could stop him somehow.”

“I’ve tried. There isn’t much you can do when he’s a wolf—or a human, really—and in the mindset of hurting someone. You’ll only end up hurting yourself too.”

“Remus is right.” This was Altair, who had been quiet for some time now. He looked gravely at Karina. “You mustn’t put yourself at risk. Fenrir’s too powerful. And you can’t blame yourself, or anyone else for that matter – it’s just who he is. It’s horrid, and I’d pay for someone to kill him if I had the money, but stopping him is impossible. He’s a madman.”

Karina went on to say something, but Remus held a hand towards her to silence her. He gave a small shake of his head. “We should go back to them,” he said quietly, “before they start getting suspicious.”

***

More than a few curious pairs of eyes followed Altair and Remus as they padded down the middle of the room, rucksacks slung over their shoulders. Remus could practically sense Altair’s shoulders stiffening under the gazes of their pack members. This was, after all, his first time returning to civilisation since his arrival.

They apparated from just outside of the border of the protective spells, Altair’s shaky hand in Remus’s steady one. He let go immediately once they had landed and nudged him with his shoulder. “Welcome to London.”

Their room had one double bed in it, made poorly but looking rather inviting after the week they’d had. Altair dropped his bag on the floor and looked warily around himself.

“We can ask for another room,” Remus hurried to say, “If you’d rather be by yourself. I just thought… well, we have slept in the same bed before.”

“Leave me alone and I’ll murder you,” was Altair’s response. He smiled at Remus. “I prefer sleeping next to you – honest.”

Remus felt at ease, hearing those words. He was happy to have someone with him, as his trips away from the pack were usually rather lonely, even if he did see Marlene every time. He was looking forward to not having to wake up alone.

Altair slumped down on the bed, sitting with his hands beneath his bum like a little kid. His eyes met Remus’s. “What’s the plan?”

“We could go and explore Diagon Alley for a bit? Or we can stay here and take a nap – it’s up to you.”

Altair narrowed his eyes in thought. “What’s Muggle London like?”

“Sorry?” Remus sputtered, halting midway to opening his rucksack. He desperately needed to change his clothes, feeling grimy all over.

Altair shrugged. “Well, long ago as it was, I have been to Diagon Alley before. And I’m not feeling tired. Why not go ’round London?”

“Altair, that’s… you’ve been back for ten minutes and you already want to go and surround yourself with Muggles?! Are you nuts? I thought you were uncertain of whether you even wanted to come!”

“But I’d much rather be around Muggles! It’ll be safer, too.”

Remus hesitated. He had prepared to hide out in their room for the entirety of the week, to bring Altair food to bed in case he was too scared to step out of the inn. The last thing he had expected was to be asked to go wander around Muggle London on their first day.

Still, he couldn’t think of a proper reason as to why they shouldn’t, what with Altair being the one to suggest it. In the end, Remus lent him a neater set of clothes—"I can’t go around town looking like a bloody bum, Remus!”—and they left the inn after spending less than half an hour in their room. Tom looked at them oddly from behind the counter.

Remus wasn’t too familiar with the streets of London outside of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, simply because he rarely had any business among Muggles, and so they ended up just walking around blindly, wishing to stumble into things worth having a look at. They stopped for coffees, only to realise neither of them owned any Muggle money. Remus meekly told the barista he’d forgotten his wallet, and she kindly said it was on the house – though Remus thought she did it merely because she’d kept eyeing Altair flirtingly from the second they’d stepped into the coffee shop. He couldn’t say he was mad.

With stale coffees in hand, they ambled their way to a nearby park which, as Remus curiously pointed out, looked a lot like the place at which they had spent more than a few full moons some years ago. “I’m pretty sure it was in Wales and not central London,” said Altair, smiling amusedly at Remus from behind his coffee cup. 

In spite of his lack of contact with non-werewolves, Altair got through the day gracefully. He asked loads of questions, most of which Remus found he couldn’t even answer, and pointed more than once to rather everyday things like double-decker buses and wolf-like dogs on pink leashes. (“Christ, Remus, look at that! Didn’t know that could be an option during full moons!”)

When they got back to The Leaky Cauldron at well past nine in the evening, Tom gestured Remus over from behind the counter. He handed him an envelope, leaning onto the counter as Remus took it and inspected it curiously. “What’s this?” he asked. He rarely got mail, and it was always slightly suspicious when he did.  

“A letter for you,” Tom grunted. “I forgot to give it to you when you first arrived. It’s from a bloke called Sirius Black. He came by some days ago, told me to give that to you if I ever saw you again. Said he was a friend of yours.”

Remus swallowed audibly. “Thank you, Tom,” he croaked, before turning on his heel and beginning to pull Altair towards the staircase. The envelope crumpled in his sweaty palm.

“Who’s it from?” Altair inquired, jumping the stairs up behind him, “Who’s Sirius Black?”

“Just… someone I know.”

“What’s it say?”

Remus stopped in front of their door. He frowned at the envelope, then promptly opened it and unfolded the letter. His eyes scanned the brief message on it, written with immaculate penmanship, and once he was done reading, he shoved the parchment to Altair and began to fumble with the key to their door.

“So, he wants to see you,” said Altair, slowly. “Again.” He stepped blindly into the room behind Remus, gaze still fixed on the letter. When he looked up, he frowned and placed the parchment into Remus’s outstretched hand. “Why do you look like you’ve a broom up your arse? It’s a nice letter, isn’t it?”  

Remus scowled. He crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it at the bin beneath the desk across the room. It bounced off the edge and thudded sadly to the floor. “He’s just someone I met at a pub the last time I was here. Nothing happened, he’s just… I don’t know. I didn’t think he’d reach out to me, to be honest.”  

Remus chose his words carefully. He would rather have eaten a live tarantula than told Altair that he’d spent an evening in such close proximity with an Auror, by choice. What was worse, Altair had been with him that morning in the forest when Sirius had walked past. He would recognise him if they passed each other in the street.

“You told him you’re staying here, then?” Altair asked thoughtfully.

Remus straightened up abruptly. He hadn’t even paid it any mind. “No, I didn’t,” he said slowly, pushing his memory. He couldn’t recall ever mentioning The Leaky Cauldron to Sirius. Of course, he knew someone who might have. “Marlene must’ve told him,” he said gloomily.

“Ah. Well, that’s not so bad, is it? I mean, if you don’t want to see him again, you could just tell him. Or not get back to him at all.”

“Yes, well… I’d like to see him again, that’s the thing.”

“Then I don’t see the problem.”

“It’s complicated.”

“I can do complicated.”

Remus shook his head, attempting a smile. “It’s nothing. I’ll get back to him later if I do. I’d rather not think about him now that you’re here.” He stepped forth and enveloped Altair in his arms. “It feels weird having you in London. I like it.”

“I had fun today.”

Remus pulled back enough to smile at him. “Did you?”

Altair nodded, pushing his fingers through Remus’s hair. “It’s a nice change from being with the pack all the time. I think I see why you visit London so religiously.”  

“I think it makes me appreciate being with the pack more. And vice versa. I always feel good both leaving and returning.”

Altair hummed, stepping back, and began undressing himself languidly. Having spent many years in the pack, getting starkers in front of an audience hardly felt weird to any of them anymore. It was natural.

He folded his clothes into his rucksack and started towards the bathroom. “Don’t stay in too long,” Remus called after him, “There’s only so much warm water.”

Altair smirked over his shoulder. “You’d better get in with me, then.”

***

At breakfast, Remus slid the new Daily Prophet towards himself from across the table. Altair, who sat beside him, was busy watching people go to and from the pub, either leaving or entering Diagon Alley and stopping at the counter for a drink or a chat with the well-liked bartender.

The headlines of The Daily Prophet were depressing as ever. It seemed to be their new favourite theme, making everything sound dreadful. Remus let his eyes rake the front of the newspaper, counting in his head the number of times dark creatures were mentioned. Five, that morning. And it was only the first page.

“This is bullshit,” he muttered, drawing Altair’s attention. The other man leaned closer and followed Remus’s finger trailing across the page. “It’s all ‘werewolf this’ and ‘vampire that’. They’re even blaming the house elves! I wonder when the people at the Prophet will come to their senses and stop pretending Voldemort isn’t behind everything bad that’s happening right now. I mean, look at this! The tensions between political parties are increasing by the day – read about the newest unrest and its backwash! You can just say Voldemort’s sending everybody he finds worthy of living to kill all the rest!” He wiped a shaky hand over his mouth angrily.

Altair pushed the newspaper away, resting his hand on Remus’s on the table. “Don’t read it,” he said, gently. “You know they’re only trying not to get themselves killed. There’s no point in reading any of this from the Prophet. They’re biased because of fear.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Voldemort’s infiltrated the newspapers, too,” Remus grumbled. “There must be someone from his side there.”

“You’re right, I don’t doubt it. But that’s exactly why you shouldn’t put so much value on a shitty paper like this.” Altair flicked the newspaper with a disdained look on his face. He gave Remus’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Cheer up, Remus. Do you know what time we’ll be going to Marlene’s?”

Remus cast one more furious look at the Prophet lying on the table, and then tried to shake it from his mind altogether. He turned to Altair, adopting an air of calmness. “At noon, she said. If you’re still comfortable with meeting her?”

Altair smiled. “Of course. I can’t wait to meet your friend.”

***

At seeing Remus and Altair stand side by side, a grin spread across Marlene’s lips. She ushered them in and into the awaiting arms of Dorcas, who greeted them just as enthusiastically.

As expected, Altair loved the house. He complimented just about every nook of it, all shyness forgotten, and Marlene received the praises with her eyes brighter than the Sun. She nodded her head approvingly at Remus when Altair wasn’t looking.

When they sat down at the table, the questioning began.

Remus had anticipated it. Over the years he had known Marlene, she had always been eager to know about the lives of werewolves in detail. Inside information, she called it. But Remus was a private person, and though there wasn’t a soul on Earth he trusted more than Marlene, there were only a limited number of things he was willing to share with her.

Hence why Altair was now being bombarded with not-so-subtle questions: How long ago were you bitten? Is it true that you never leave the pack? How does it feel, turning into a wolf?

Remus could read the discomfort on Altair’s face, though he was clearly trying to hide it. He was far too polite to ask them to stop. Remus knew Marlene and Dorcas were only curious in a very harmless way, but to someone like Altair, it must have been overwhelming to have someone ask him all these personal questions. His hand was anxiously clenching and unclenching beneath the table.

“So, you were bitten by Fenrir, too?” Marlene inquired next. She knew the answer—was this her way of making small-talk?

Enraged, Remus slammed his palms to the table, drawing three pairs of eyes his way. “Enough of that, Marlene,” he said, lowly, and stood up. He jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s talk in private?”

Marlene looked apologetically at Altair as she abandoned her seat. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, before Remus seized her arm and pulled her with him. The dining room fell quiet.

In the kitchen, he leaned his hands onto the cool counter and dropped his head between his shoulders. He drew in a deep breath before starting, “Marlene, I… I can’t believe you’d ask him all those things!”  

Marlene’s voice came quietly from behind him, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise I was crossing a boundary…”

Remus swivelled around, incredulous. Marlene didn’t look frightened—she’d never fear Remus—but there was guilt on her face. “Of course you were crossing a boundary,” he hissed angrily. “I get that you want to get to know him, but… do you have to ask him stuff like that?!” 

“I’m sorry! I don’t know what else to talk to him about! You told me yourself, he never goes away. He spends every waking second with them – how am I supposed to ask him what he does with his life if I already know?”

“Well, I don’t know—maybe don’t ask him anything, then?! Talk about yourself, or Dorcas, or me—I don’t know! Not everybody likes to talk about themselves! Couldn’t you see how bothered he was?!”

Marlene sighed, placing a hand on Remus’s shoulder. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have…”

“Great,” Remus gritted. He turned to leave, but Marlene’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Lily and James asked me to dinner next week,” she said, quickly, pleadingly. “I’d like for you to join us again. Please. I hate being the third wheel.”

Remus turned to look at her over his shoulder and shook his head. “I won’t come. Last time was already terrible enough, I’d rather not have a redo.”

“But you liked them, didn’t you?” Marlene insisted, offering a hopeful smile. It usually worked on Remus, but this time he wasn’t going to yield.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Sure, but only when they weren’t talking about the war. Which, in case you don’t remember, was the only thing they talked about.”

“It’s not their fault, Remus. It’s part of their jobs. Please come with me. I’m begging you.”

Remus swallowed, offering her a tight smile. “No. I don’t think I will.”

***

The rest of his and Altair’s stay at the Leaky Cauldron consisted of them not seeing any more of Remus’s friends or people who he was even remotely familiar with. In fact, they spent a lot of time in their small room, popping out only for short, quiet walks or coffees near the inn. It was nice, Remus thought, though he felt guilty for possibly forbidding Altair from doing anything he actually wanted to. But when Remus had asked him about it, he’d politely said he didn’t mind not going anywhere. He claimed he liked just watching Remus read or playing Wizard’s Chess together. “If I hated this, I’d just go out by myself,” he kept saying. Remus didn’t think he would.

When it was time for Altair to return to the pack, the guilt inside Remus had only expanded, found new parts of his body to nestle in and come out at the worst of times. He hugged Altair before they left their room and whispered, “I shouldn’t have tied you to me.”

Altair shook his head, softly. His breaths grazed Remus’s skin. “You didn’t. I had a nice time. And I haven’t felt this rested, like, ever.”

They padded down the stairs, and Remus walked Altair outside to where it was safe to apparate, out of sight of Muggles. Out of sight of anyone. Remus kissed Altair on the mouth like he had intended to in the room. There was no one in the alleyway, and he didn’t rush with parting their lips. It felt like goodbye, just less dreadful. They would meet again soon, just in a different setting—in a different world.

“Thank you,” Altair whispered, and then he was gone from Remus’s touch. The air swirled at his wake.

Once inside the pub again, Remus headed straight for the counter. Tom looked at him expectantly. “I’d like to change rooms,” Remus said.

Tom raised an eyebrow, accepted the old key from Remus, and handed him a new one along with an envelope. “Someone left you that again,” he said, “A bunch of admirers you have, Lupin.” He smirked.

Remus accepted the letter, his cheeks warm. He thought he knew who it was from. He hurried upstairs to his new room, where his belongings had already been magically transported to, and tore open the envelope, despite every cell in his body telling him not to.

But it wasn’t from Sirius. The handwriting was much more familiar.

Dear Romulus,

As I mentioned when I last saw you, 
Lily, James and I are going to be
having dinner tomorrow. 
Seven pm at The Silver Laguna. 

Be there or I’ll come and drag you there 
myself, by your few sad chest hairs.

You know I’m not joking.

Love,
Marlene

Remus huffed at the straightforward message. He set the piece of parchment on the dresser, bitterly, almost wishing it had been from Sirius after all.

Chapter Text

Remus hated that he always had such a hard time saying no to Marlene regardless of what she asked of him. She could have requested him to throw himself off a broom above the Thames and he would probably have obeyed. It was the way it had always been – once, she had coaxed him into buying a set of red dress robes for a work event of hers. It had not gone down well, given he’d looked like a poor Father Christmas imitator amongst all the Goblins.

Now, he scanned the crowded room with his eyes, dozens of witches and wizards scattered about, dressed smartly for dinner out. He felt very out of place. Fancy dinners were not part of his usual daily routine, nor was socialising with a pair of Aurors. Yet, there he was.

Spotting his dinner companions in the far corner, Remus walked over idly, not wanting to depict the nervousness he was feeling. He hugged Marlene and Lily – only because she initiated it – and then James, because he didn’t react quickly enough to turn it into a handshake. He supposed it was nice that these people were willing to hug him.

“It’s so nice of you to join us,” Lily said sweetly. She took her seat opposite to Remus.

“He was glad to come,” Marlene said, “Weren’t you, Romulus?”

Remus forced a smile. “Of course.”

“We’re actually still waiting for someone,” James said. “It was kind of last minute, but…” He sent a wry smile Lily’s way.

Remus nodded at his menu, which he had picked up to occupy his hands. He only felt bitter that Marlene wouldn’t have been the third wheel after all, even if Remus hadn’t shown up for dinner. Now there were going to be three third wheels, which was way worse than two.

Not many minutes had passed of Remus staring pointedly at the list of foods, not really consuming any of the words he was reading, and the others catching up around him, when the bells suddenly chimed at the door. He turned to look and nearly dropped the menu he was holding.

“There he is!” James boomed loudly.

Lily smiled at Sirius, who was approaching them with a wide smile on his face. Remus hoped his shock wasn’t visible on his face. Lily turned to gesture to him when Sirius reached them. “Hey, dear. This is Romulus Howell – he works for Gringotts like Marlene. Romulus, Sirius Black.”  

Although this was by no means their first encounter, Sirius extended a hand out and shook Remus’s, flashing him a private smile. It sent Remus’s stomach into a whirlwind – this was not how he’d imagined the night would go. It would have been bad enough anyway, even without Sirius suddenly making an appearance.

“This isn’t actually our first time meeting,” Sirius revealed, stripping off his leather jacket.

“Oh?” Marlene looked between the two of them. “Is that so? How come I didn’t know?”

Remus furrowed his brows. “Wasn’t it you who told him where I’m staying?” he asked. He had thought that would be the only option, as he certainly hadn’t mentioned the inn to Sirius.

“It was her, actually,” Sirius pointed to Lily, draping his jacket over the back of his chair. “Only, it came up in conversation once.”

Lily smiled guiltily. “So sorry, didn’t mean to make things weird.”

Marlene was looking around herself confusedly, clearly not following along. “What’re you on about?” she demanded. “When have you two met and why have I not been informed?”

“It was like a month ago in Madam Hopkins’,” Remus muttered. “I guess I forgot to tell you.”

“Well, we’re here now,” Sirius said easily as he took a seat next to Remus. He sent him a look that was anything but civil, and Remus practically felt the heat crawl up his neck and onto to his cheeks.

He had forgotten how overwhelmingly strong Sirius’s scent was. It seemed to fill up the entire space between them – which wasn’t all that big anyway, given Sirius’s tactical positioning close enough to him for their elbows to knock together every time one of them moved. Marlene looked curiously between the two, which Remus thought was ridiculous when she knew exactly what he was and what Sirius was. The perfect mismatch, that was – and not in the ‘opposites attract’ kind of way.

“Sirius is an Auror, too,” Lily explained, unaware that Remus was very much aware.

“Ah-ah,” James interrupted her with a finger pointed toward the ceiling. “Not just an Auror anymore, is he?”

Marlene frowned. “What do you mean?” It seemed she had been left out of more things than one.

A slow smile rose on Sirius’s lips, and he shrugged modestly. “I suppose they didn’t have many people to choose from, as a lot of people have quit already because of the war, but Norman Elbany – he used to run the Werewolf Capture Unit at the Ministry – left his notice a few weeks ago. Fled the country, I suppose—he’s Muggleborn, so I don’t blame him. Anyway, they asked me to take the spot.”

“You’re… you’re the head of the Werewolf Capture Unit now?” Marlene repeated, weakly.

Remus’s stomach lurched, and it was as if every scar on his body caught fire. It made sense to him now why Sirius had been in the forest that dreadful morning. To his side sat a man who he should have been avoiding with every particle of his existence. Sirius Black was not only an Auror – he also ran the unit that was responsible for the captivation of many of Remus’s kind. His hand clenched into a fist beneath the table. He didn’t feel frightened as much as furious.

“Well, I of course told them that I’m not ready to just give up my Auror duties, so I’m sort of doing half and half now,” Sirius tacked on. “Though I’ve been much too busy ever since I started in the Unit. Anyway, they had no choice but to agree to my terms – Elbany wasn’t the first one who was scared for their own safety. They’re running short on people.”  

Marlene’s smile was poorly executed – Remus could see the pure panic from a mile away. Still, it seemed Sirius wasn’t paying it much attention. Remus inched further away from him, as much as he could without raising suspicion. His only solace was that Sirius hadn’t been at his new job for more than some weeks now – someone truly devoted to werewolves might have recognised his scars in one glance.   

“Enough about the Ministry,” said James, leaning closer to Remus over the table with a sly smile. “Romulus, I’ve been dying to ask… What’s it like, working with dragons?”

Remus smiled politely while his brain got to work at the mention of his false occupation. How was he supposed to keep his cool after finding out it was basically in Sirius’s job description to capture him? Think, think, think. “Are dark wizards not dangerous enough for you?” he quipped, weakly.  

“Please,” Sirius huffed, “James is scared of bees. I don’t think he would dare look at a photo of a dragon, let alone work with one.”

“I am not! It’s spiders that get me.”

“That’s true,” confirmed Lily. “I just had to carry one particularly huge one out of house yesterday because this one was frightened by it.”

“It’s not funny,” James muttered. He looked glumly at the wall across from him, hands folded over his chest like a baby throwing a tantrum. Sirius’s grin was wide when he looked at Remus.

“Is it really that secret?” he asked, quietly, when a waiter came and distracted the others by asking for their orders. He narrowed his eyes teasingly and mused, “Are you afraid you’re going to reveal to us the way around that labyrinth of a building? Because I can assure you, we’ve no intention of robbing the place.”

Remus shrugged. “I’m sorry. It’s not so much that I actually can’t tell you anything, but I’ve vowed not to.”

Sirius leaned back in his chair, eyeing Remus with a smirk that would have swiped him off his feet, was he not drowning in disdain (and already seated). He tried to look neutral as he watched Sirius back. In his mind he was planning the quickest route to escape the restaurant, just to be sure; maybe he could pretend to go for a cigarette? Though Sirius might follow him out and beg for one too. He wondered briefly whether he could just go to the loo and apparate from there.

Marlene was suddenly snapping her fingers in front of his face, impatiently. “Romulus, wake up!”

Remus jostled, sitting up straight. “Hm?”  

“It’s your turn to order. What do you want?”

Remus blinked down at the forgotten menu in front of him. Hurriedly, he picked it up and started going through it again in panic. Beside him, Sirius let out a soft chuckle. “I can go first,” he said, with such effort that it sounded like he had just granted amnesty to Remus. Admittedly, he did wait a while before speaking. “Hm. I think I’ll have the steak, medium raw,” he said languidly, knocking his elbow to Remus’s side. “Time’s up, no more mercy.”

“I’ll have the… um, whatever he ordered.” Remus looked up at the waiter, who merely gave a nod before turning on her heel and retreating to the kitchens. Remus’s cheeks felt hot with embarrassment, and he pointedly avoided looking anywhere in Sirius’s direction.

“Hey!” James exclaimed, suddenly, squinting into the distance. “Is that Peter? Oi! Pete, over here!” He jumped up and waved his arms about vigorously, nearly hitting a waiter walking past.

“Where’s the spider?” muttered Sirius, though James either didn’t hear or chose to ignore him. Remus snorted, watching as a shortish man approached them, only to get pulled into a bear hug by an overly excited James.

“Hey, mate!” James gushed, “Sit down, sit down! We just ordered; you can still hop on board if you’d like.”

The man waved him off. “No, thanks. I’m, uh, meeting someone.” He eyed James nervously before his eyes flicked over the rest of them, stopping curiously on Remus.

Remus deemed it his cue to introduce himself. He stood up and reached over the table to shake hands with the man. “Romulus Howell,” he said. “Marlene’s friend.”

“Romulus… I’m Peter Pettigrew,” the man responded, shaking his hand half sloppily. His palm felt sweaty against Remus’s.

“Pete works for the Ministry as well,” James explained proudly.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded, giving a sheepish smile, “Department of International Magical Co-operation.”

Remus hummed, raising his brows. He sat back down, nearly missing his chair. “That sounds interesting,” he said, out of courtesy.

Sirius was tapping his fingers impatiently to the table. “How’s Fudge?” he asked, aiming the question at Peter, though he sounded absent and not too interested at all. “I hear he’s eager.”

“Fudge is Peter’s boss,” Marlene offered from the side.

Peter laughed a high-pitched thing. “Eager is the right word.” He looked at Sirius, who on the other hand was staring at the table. Peter quickly turned back to James. “We should grab drinks sometime!”

“Of course, mate! Just owl me, eh?”

“Yeah… Look, I really need to go. Er… yeah. It was nice meeting you, Romulus.”

Remus smiled. “Likewise.” He watched as Peter waved his goodbye and promptly scurried away, knocking his knee to a chair near the door painfully loudly. Sirius tutted stoutly.

“Clumsy, that one,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be so hard on him,” James scolded. “Pete’s been busy at work, it’s understandable that he hasn’t been hanging out with us as much anymore. Actually, I heard that his department has had a blast trying to explain to the other countries’ ministries that Voldemort isn’t really as dangerous as people say.”

Remus raised his brows. “Is he not?” he asked. He would’ve claimed otherwise.

“Of course he is,” said James. “But what’s the point in seeding panic round the world when we don’t exactly know where he is or what he’s planning?”

“Talk about international co-operation…” Sirius murmured.  

“Don’t be so glum, Padfoot. Of course they know that he isn’t one to play around with. But giving them half-assed information is worse than them not knowing everything that we do. The department’s job is to keep them up to date, and they’ll inform the other countries’ ministries when they know more. It’s simple as that.”

Sirius scoffed. “For all we know, Voldemort could be in Egypt right now, gathering more followers—there are a bunch of vampires there, I’ve heard. Anyway, everyone should be on the lookout for him, not just us!”

“I get where you’re coming from, Sirius.” This was Lily, who had so far been patiently observing the situation from the side. She crossed her fingers over the table and sighed. “But James is right, in a way. We can’t keep giving them pieces of information that are only going to lead to wrong conclusions. There’s no point in telling them to use all their countries’ resources to find him, when it’s likely he’s still here in the UK. Of course, he could be elsewhere, but it’s not like he’s staying anywhere for more than days at a time – if he’s smart enough, anyway.”

“Yes,” Sirius pressed on, “but don’t you think we’re fools for letting him get off so easy? He can freely garner dark wizards from around the world and all we’re doing is chasing individuals who, for fuck’s sake, know they’re being chased and therefore know to hide! I don’t see the point!” He slammed his palm against the table for emphasis, sending water splashing over the rim of his glass.

“There’s only so much we can do,” Marlene reasoned calmly.

Remus watched the interaction from the side with a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach. He truly thought his acquaintances had forgotten about him until Lily suddenly turned to him and held her hand out to disrupt James’s ongoing ramble. “Enough, James,” she said, smiling kindly at Remus. “Let’s not talk about this now. Sorry, Romulus. We get easily carried away.”

Remus waved her off, but he was secretly grateful to her for interrupting the debate. Things tended to get a little personal when dark creatures were mentioned more than once within the same sentence. But really, he couldn’t blame them. If his life consisted of chasing down vicious creatures and even more vicious wizards, he would likely not be able to talk about anything else either. He would live and breathe that life, just like he now lived and breathed two lives that were entirely unlike one another. The thing with him, though, was that he couldn’t talk about one of them, and the other one was a lie.

“Hey,” came Sirius’s voice, quiet and kind, as he nudged Remus with his hand, “Don’t doze off, eh?”

“Sorry,” Remus mumbled, inching away. He had half lost his appetite by now.

Regardless of feeling sick to his stomach, he ate his dinner as he observed the easy banter between Sirius and James, the match of power between Lily and Sirius as both of them tried to outsmart the other, and the knowing looks between Marlene and James. Lily cleared her throat pointedly every time the discussion got a little too close to anything Ministry-related, and Remus pretended he didn’t mind them talking about work all the time. He would’ve much rather listened than had to tell lies about himself, anyway.

Once they had split the bill and were putting their coats on, James announced that they were all to come to his and Lily’s home the next day to have drinks. Marlene politely explained that Remus needed to travel for work early the next morning, but Remus… well, the pettiness inside him had not ceased since the last time he’d seen Sirius. He held a hand out to silence her. “I’d love to join you,” he said, smiling gratefully at James. “It’ll be fun.”

Marlene gaped at him and, while the others began filing out of the restaurant, pulled him aside. Her grip on Remus’s arm was firm, making his skin prickle. “What are you doing?!” she demanded. “I thought you’d never want to talk to them again!”

Remus smiled amusedly. “Why’s that?”

He knew why, of course, but he wasn’t about to tell Marlene about his childish urge to best Sirius. She would have chastised him for being so foolish and careless, and eventually, she would’ve managed to talk him out of it.

“You heard what Sirius said,” Marlene tacked on. “He’s the head of the Werewolf Capture Unit now, and—”

“I’m only blowing off suspicion,” Remus explained, calmly. “Would a werewolf seek out the company of a group of Aurors?”

“That’s an awful logic to go by. You ought to be careful, Remus.”

“It’s just drinks, Marlene.” Remus smiled condescendingly. “I won’t bite anyone.”

Chapter Text

The Potters’ home was a modest two-story house located in a nice Muggle neighbourhood in Godric’s Hollow – exactly what Remus had expected of them, really.

Harry was asleep upstairs, had already been when Remus arrived, thankfully, and Dorcas was showing James photographs from her trip to Calabria last summer in the sitting room. Sirius was running late because of work, and even in his absence, Marlene was keeping a close watch on Remus. She must have thought he was going to accidentally let his condition slip into conversation.

Lately, Remus had thought a lot about how unfair his situation was. He had nothing but time, of course, and so every dull moment was spent replaying images of Sirius striding across the forest like he owned it, or of James and Lily sitting in their homely little offices at the Ministry of Magic, or of Marlene and Dorcas living their picture-perfect life together. He’d never been one to label himself a martyr, but Remus thought he deserved to be at least moderately angry about it all.  

By the time Sirius arrived – dressed in his maroon work robes and looking positively furious – Remus’s agitation had died down significantly. His annoyance always came fleetingly, because he’d learned very early on to just accept his fate. It was still unjust, but deep down, he knew crying about it wasn’t going to cure him. It had done nothing so far, actually. 

Already tipsy, Remus watched Sirius stride into the living room with a tense set to his jaw. He stopped abruptly in front of Lily and muttered something to her, his voice low and agitated. Lily’s face dropped too, and she gave a stiff nod.

“What?” James inquired from the side, eager to be let in on any new information. Sirius gave him a glum look and stomped into the kitchen, leaving the explaining to a bewildered Lily. She moved to sit next to her husband, glancing about furtively as she began muttering words under her breath.

Not many seconds passed until Sirius was back in the room with a generous glassful of Firewhiskey in his hand. He smiled tightly at the crowd. “No need to be so secretive, Lily,” he said. “They’re all going to read it in the Prophet tomorrow, anyway.”

Lily snapped her mouth shut and cleared her throat. “Sirius,” she said tentatively, “I know you’re upset, but—”

“Well, go on,” Marlene cut in impatiently. “I want to know!”  

“There’s been another attack,” Sirius declared loudly, sloshing his whiskey on the carpet in an elaborate gesture. James aimed his wand at the stain and vanished it without a word. “And my delusional cousin, along with her unhinged husband, have more than a little to do with it.”

“Sirius…” Marlene started, bothered, “I’m so sorry—”

“No, no,” Sirius waved his hand. “Really, I ought to have expected this. I’m only glad we no longer share our last name – what a disgrace that would be, eh? Though I bet my mother would be proud…”

“Mate,” said James, shaking his head slowly. “Don’t. We know where you stand.”  

Sirius snorted humourlessly and downed half of his Firewhiskey in one go. “We’re all as bad as the other, aren’t we?”

“No. No, you’re not. She’s your cousin, Sirius, but she might as well not be. You’re right, she’s deranged, but you can’t blame yourself for any of this.”

Remus was lost as a lamb, but from what he had so far gathered, Sirius was being a dramatic twat over absolutely nothing. He felt annoyed again – what was it to Sirius if his cousin had lost a screw or two? Shouldn’t he have been more upset about the attack than about who was behind it?  

“Of course, I’m not even fucking surprised,” Sirius tacked on, pointedly. “She’s been head over heels for Riddle ever since he first gained something of a name for himself.”

“No one blames you for your family, dear,” Lily tried, gently.

Remus felt as if he might snap in half. “What did she do, then?” he asked, bluntly. He didn’t care that everyone turned to look at him in sheer bewilderment. Something smile-like flashed on Sirius’s face, as if he had only now become aware of Remus’s presence and was glad there was someone who wouldn’t listen to his moaning. He cleared his throat loudly.

“I’m glad you asked,” he said, ignoring James’s pleas for him to zip it. “I heard nothing’s left of the house, let alone the people who lived in it. It was her, Rodolphus Lestrange, and some other people – or so they told me. Wouldn’t let me go see the place.”

“Well, we know who’s behind the attack,” Lily said, calmingly. “That’s something.”

Sirius clanked his glass down on the mantelpiece. “I need some fresh air.”

***

When Sirius returned half an hour later, his knuckles and the sleeves of his robes were bloody – but he did seem calmer. He fetched another drink from the kitchen and sat down beside James, who aimed a healing charm at his hands and tactfully avoided mentioning anything even remotely related to the Black family again. It took a while, but the atmosphere in the room returned to close to normal again; though at the backs of everyone’s minds haunted pictures of a blown-up house somewhere in a peaceful Muggle neighbourhood. Remus felt sick just thinking about it.

He excused himself shortly, wobbling into the kitchen, where he downed two glasses of cold water. His head was swimming, Sirius’s presence in the other room made him feel like someone was strangling him, and he already knew he was going to wake up with a headache tomorrow morning. While all this went through his head in a wave of nauseating regret, he failed to notice the person standing beside him.

“Are you okay?” Sirius’s voice came from close by. Looking down at himself, Remus realised he was leaning heavily onto the counter, his breaths coming and going shallowly. He shook his head, then nodded.

“Fine. Just dizzy.”

Sirius nodded too, watching as Remus fought to push himself straight. He leaned onto counter with all his weight and attempted to look sober. “I’m sorry about your cousin,” he said, glancing sideways at Sirius.

Sirius waved him off. “Always knew there was something wrong with her. With all of them, really.”

“Your family?”

“Yes, my family. A bunch of lunatics, they are.”

Remus didn’t really know what to say to that, so he remained quiet, eyes on the floor. Sirius leaned his back onto the counter beside him, crossing one ankle over the other. “I always have wondered how they all turned out so bad,” he continued, as if passing the time.

Remus hummed, vaguely. “Not all of them, I’ve heard,” he said.

Sirius snorted a quiet laugh. “Yeah, well. Someone’s got to be the sensible one. Tell me about your family? I hope they’re sane, at least.”  

“My mum’s a Muggle,” Remus said, evasively. He would have preferred to keep his family out of it, especially when it came to Sirius.

“Ah, ok. I see. And your dad’s a wizard?”

“Yes.”

“Not someone I might know?”

“Definitely not.”

“Hm… Howell. No, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of any Howells before.”

“You wouldn’t have. He’s a lie-low sort of man.”

“Yeah?”

Remus nodded stiffly, hoping to get the message across. It was the last thing he wanted to talk about. Goodness, why did Sirius even care?

“Alright.” There were a few seconds of silence, and then Sirius turned to face Remus, folding his arms and cocking his hip to the side. “You really don’t look quite well,” he remarked with a light frown.  

“I’ve just drunk too much.”

“You don’t look pissed.”

Remus huffed. “Trust me, I am.”

For a moment, Sirius went quiet. His eyes studied Remus’s face with unnerving precision. Half of Remus wanted to turn around and slap him. The other, more sensible half forced him to say, “I should probably get going before I accidentally fall asleep on the sofa.”

Sirius breathed in and out, moving one of his hands to the counter inches away from Remus’s hip. He tapped his fingers against the surface, languidly. “Are you headed to your hotel room now?” he asked.

“My room at an inn. But yeah, that’s the plan. Why?”

“Oh, no reason.”

“Did you really pry it out of Lily? Where I’m staying?”

“It might have come up in conversation.”

Remus narrowed his eyes, the corner of his mouth tugging up. Sirius smiled at him innocently before pushing himself straight. “Right, then. I won’t keep you.”

“Right.”

“Are you working tomorrow?”

“Oh. Er, yeah… Early shift.”

“Hm.”

Remus cleared his throat. “You?”

“Yes, same for me.”

“Great.”

Sirius raised his brows slightly but nodded. “And are you free tomorrow evening?” he asked casually.

Remus inhaled sharply. Had he been sober, he might have turned Sirius down right away. But, having drunk half his bodyweight in alcohol, he nodded warily. “Think so. Why?”

Sirius winked. “Would it be completely tactless to ask you out for drinks?”

“Oh.”

“You can say no.”

Remus swallowed, thinking about Marlene in the other room. She would not agree with his decision, but then, it wasn’t for her to decide anyway. Besides, wasn’t this what they meant when they said to keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Taking a deep breath, Remus smiled and said, “Just give me the time and place.”

***

“You said what now?!”

“I said I’d go.”

“You’re—you’re crazy! Remus! Have you forgotten who he is?!”

“I haven’t, actually, thank you very much,” Remus murmured, scowling at her. He picked up one of his shirts from the floor and gave it a sniff. “Anyway, what was I supposed to say?”

“How about ‘no’? That would’ve been a good place to start!”

Remus smiled at her slyly. “But he asked so nicely.”

“Remus! Merlin, you’re unbelievable!” Throwing her arms up in the air frustratedly, Marlene turned her back on him. Remus pulled his t-shirt off and replaced it with the one he’d found on the floor before going to his rucksack to find his robes.

“It’s not like he has any idea who I am,” he reasoned, slipping into the garments. He had known she would react like this and had spent the morning coming up with plausible arguments to support his decision. Of course, hardly any came to his mind now. “I had no reason to say no, really.”

Marlene rounded on him again, fuming. “You had no reason to say yes, actually!” she snapped. It was as if lightning was sparking behind her eyes – Remus had never seen her look so furious. “You’re playing with fire, Remus, and I’m warning you now,” she hissed, “you will get burned.”

***

The place Sirius had chosen was entirely out of Remus’s preferred price range, but he couldn’t have confessed it even if he’d wanted to – as far as Sirius knew, he worked in a bloody bank. Saying he didn’t have the money for a few nice drinks would surely have raised suspicion.

The pub was cosy enough, with candles floating above their heads near the ceiling and paintings of old witches and wizards staring at them on the walls, all of them dressed in silky nightgowns. Sirius led him to a table in the far corner and, after shrugging off his long coat and draping it over the back of his chair, offered to order the first round. Awkwardly, Remus nodded and sat down to wait.

“What’s this?” he asked when Sirius came back with two glasses of sparkling, bright blue liquid, pushing one of them across the table to him. He lifted it to his nose and sniffed carefully.

“Try it,” Sirius winked. He took a sip from his own glass, wincing slightly. Nervously, Remus followed his lead.

The liquid tasted like it looked; it was minty, almost obnoxiously so, but there was a sweetness to it that Remus liked. He took another gulp, licking his lips and frowning.

“The bartender’s special,” Sirius said mysteriously, breaking into a grin. “No bloody clue what’s in it.”

“It’s strong, at least,” Remus remarked, going in for another sip. “And weirdly addicting.”

Sirius nodded, clinking their glasses together and downing a third of his own. “Got that right.”

Remus paid for the next round of drinks, which ended up being the same as the first; once you got over the overpowering taste of mint, it was really a pleasant drink. It got you drunk fast, too, and by the time they were on their third round, everything seemed a bit funnier to Remus. Sirius was smiling all the time too, which made him look much younger than he’d first seemed. His work must have really been taking a toll on him, then.

This on his mind, Remus half-accidentally asked, “Do you have work tomorrow?” He had skilfully avoided the topic so far, and at hearing the question, Sirius’s smile immediately dropped. He sighed tiredly and set his glass down. “I’m sorry,” Remus said quickly. “Don’t know why I asked, forget about it.”

“No, it’s fine,” Sirius smiled glumly. “I’ve an evening shift, but yes, I’m working. Rarely get days off anymore, to be fair.”

“Oh.” Remus almost felt genuinely bad for asking, even if Sirius’s job did affect him more than anyone. “Is it really that bad?”

Sirius shrugged, picking his glass back up and twirling it absently. He took a slow gulp and winced again. “It gives me a thrill,” he said, the corner of his mouth tugging. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t sometimes feel like quitting.” He seemed to think for a moment, before adding, “And somebody’s got to do the job. I wouldn’t give it up for anything, or anyone.”

Looking down at the table, Remus nodded. In moments like this, it was so obviously clear that he and Sirius were hardly alike one another. Remus truly did think werewolves deserved to live like any other person—hell, he if anyone knew that—but it wasn’t hard to feel lesser than Sirius, who walked around in his expensive boots and Ministry robes and talked about tracking down dark wizards like he was planning the next day’s lunch. It made Remus lose hope.

“No more work talk?” Sirius said tentatively, smiling at Remus across the table. Remus met his eye and smiled back, nodding.

“Okay. No more work talk.”

***

It was two hours later when they finally separated ways. Remus was positively surprised – it seemed that Sirius did know how to talk about things other than work and the war, too. In fact, they managed to avoid these topics altogether, which made for a rather pleasant evening filled with easy conversation. Remus couldn’t forget about Sirius’s position, of course – he could never let that slide – but as equals, like Sirius saw them, they got on quite well.

“I had a nice time,” Sirius was saying, swaying slightly in the doorway. They had cut it down on the drinks after their speedy start, but Remus was still feeling wobbly on his feet.

“Me too,” he said, which was mostly the truth. He had also had a hard time shaking Marlene’s words from his mind. You didn’t need to be particularly clever to know it was a stupid, dangerous game he was playing.

“There’s a band playing at The Seven Centaurs the day after tomorrow, if you want to go.”

“They any good?” Remus asked.

Sirius smirked. “They’re not bad.”

Remus had planned on returning to the pack the following day; the moon was drawing closer, and he’d promised Altair to be back well in advance. He could just return for a night, then come back to London for a few more days and go back again for the moon. Altair wouldn’t be happy, nor any of the others, but there wasn’t anything they could hold against him; they were all permitted to leave.

Having come to a decision, Remus nodded amicably. “I’ll come with you,” he said, making Sirius grin, “but they better be decent.”

***

“Hey, Karina.”

The young woman looked up. Her eyes wrinkled as she smiled kindly – she could always make Remus feel at ease, like she had swallowed the Sun and you could feel its warmth emanating from her if you got close enough. “Remus. You’re back.”

Remus nodded. “I’m glad to be. How have things been here?” He bent down and sat down next to her on a tree stump. She moved to make space.

“Pretty mundane, I’d say. I haven’t seen Fenrir for a few days, which I can’t say I’m mad about. It’s oddly relaxing when he’s not around—though Alyna sure loves to take on the role of the leader in his absence, doesn’t she? She tried to get us to rub her sore shoulders, the other day.”

Remus snorted a laugh. “Did you?”

“Of course not. I told her I’d rather rub Fenrir’s than hers.”

“No, you didn’t,” said Remus, a smile pulling at his lips.

“No, I didn’t. But it’s true. She reeks, doesn’t she?”

“I suppose. But I don’t think the rest of us have much to say.”

Karina laughed brightly. “No, I think you’re right. Well? How did London treat you?”

The first thing that popped into Remus’s mind was Sirius, sitting across from him at the bar, his head tilted back in laughter. Then, as if reminding him not to get too close to the ledge, an image of Sirius walking across the forest flashed in his eyes. It was as if those were two different people with two different hearts.

Of course, here, with his pack, Remus could only let one of those people be on his mind. It had to be the cruel, ignorant version of Sirius; the one that didn’t want justice but for his own kind. As Remus’s face suddenly twisted with shame, he ducked his head to hide it from Karina. “Quite well,” he mumbled. 

“Oh, yeah?” Karina prompted, nudging him with her elbow. Remus could hear that she was smiling. 

“Yeah…”  

“That’s what Altair said, too.”

And there went Remus’s stomach, dropping like he was on a rollercoaster ride. Truthfully speaking, he had pretty much forgotten about Altair the second Sirius had stepped back into the picture. He couldn’t believe himself – was he really so willing to forget about his pack’s safety? He hardly knew Sirius, and the parts he was familiar with didn’t seem quite that promising. “Er, yeah,” he croaked, despite himself. “We had a nice time.”

“He got back much earlier than you.”

Remus let out a soft chuckle. “It was his own decision. A bit at a time, eh?”

“You’re really going to convince him to leave us behind, aren’t you?”

“You can’t blame me. I feel bad for him for never going out. Or, you know. In.”

“I get that, I really do.” (Remus didn’t think she did.) “But try to understand, Remus, that this is the life he’s chosen. Nothing’s ever stopped him from leaving before, and still he has stayed.”

“I know, Karina. I’m not trying to change his mind.”

Karina hummed. They stayed quiet for a couple of moments, until she spoke again. “You know, he’s been talking about you quite a lot since he got back.”

“Oh. Has he?”

“From what I’ve heard, yeah. He’s… he’s seemed a bit off, to be honest. I think it might just be the long days and short nights, but I think you should talk to him about it. He’s always preferred you over the rest of us, anyway.”

Remus nodded. “Maybe I should.”

“Please do.”

Remus stood up, dusting his trousers. He turned to leave but stopped himself suddenly. “I’m going back tomorrow,” he said, not looking at Karina. “To London.”

“You are?” She sounded surprised.

“I have something I need to take care of.”

“Oh, okay… The moon’s only a few days away.”

“I know,” Remus said, curling and uncurling his fingers. He hated himself for wanting to go. “I’ll be back before it—promise.”

“Okay, Remus. I believe you.”

Altair was cooking a rabbit over a fire near the castle ruins’ entrance. He seemed to be in his element, humming quietly to himself, expertly twisting the stick above the flames. He didn’t even flinch when Remus sat down next to him.

“You’re back,” he observed calmly.

“Sorry I took so long.”

“It’s ok, I know you like it there. Did you see Marlene again?”

“I did. Some of her friends, too.”

“That’s nice.”

“It was okay.” Remus picked a stick from the ground and began drawing a circle in the sand next to his feet. Altair got up and crouched in front of the fire, using another stick to poke at the embers.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Kind of.”

Altair nodded. “It’ll be ready in five.”

“It smells good.”

“Did you talk to Karina?”

Remus turned to him abruptly. “How’d you know?”

“So, you did?”

“Yeah, just a minute ago. She said you’ve been feeling down.”

“I’m fine,” Altair waved him off. “Just anxiety or some shit.”

“Because of… because of our trip to London?”

Altair shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe it was too much.”

“Oh.” Remus looked down at his feet, dropping the stick to the ground. He turned to Altair again and frowned. “You should’ve said something…”

Altair smiled, shifting positions to get closer to the fire again. He turned the stick with the rabbit on it around, observing the cooked meat. “I had a nice time,” he said. “I wouldn’t change any of it.” He stood up and offered Remus his free hand. “It’s ready. Come on, let’s eat inside.”

In a hollow space on the first floor of the castle ruins, Altair sat down on a collapsed wall. He conjured two plates and distributed the meat fillets evenly on them. He offered one plate to Remus and patted the spot beside him. “Sit down. I want to hear about London.”

Remus accepted the plate but stayed standing. He picked at one of the fillets quietly. “Are you sure you’re okay? I shouldn’t have asked you to come with me.”

“I had a nice time,” Altair repeated, smiling up at him. “It just wasn’t for me. Will you sit down? You’re making me anxious.”

“I wish you’d said something.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” Altair said dismissively, lifting a piece of meat to his mouth and tearing a piece off with his teeth. “We could go hunting tomorrow, just you and me. I miss that.”

“I’m going back tomorrow…” Remus said quietly.

Altair’s head snapped up. “To London?” he demanded, all previous warmth gone from his voice. Remus nodded. “Why?”

“To… to do something. It’s important.”

“You were just there!”

“It came up suddenly. I… I need to go back.”

Altair huffed, turning away and folding his arms sulkily. “Fine,” he grumbled, “If you must.”

“We can go hunting when I come back.”

“The moon’s only five days away, Remus. You’re getting careless.”

“It’s plenty of time to leave and come back,” Remus reasoned, getting irritated now. “I always come back.”

“You always leave, too.”

“We’ve been over this,” Remus sighed. He had thought he’d gotten somewhere with Altair, but apparently there were still a few bones to pick between them. Only, Remus didn’t have the energy to argue about such simple things. “Look, it’ll only be a few days. You won’t even notice me being gone.”

“Won’t I?” Altair gritted. Remus sighed again and stepped closer, crouching in front of the other man.

“Listen to me, Altair,” he tried, “It’s only a couple of days…”

Altair shook his head, refusing to meet his eye. “Whatever,” he muttered.

“Please… try to understand.”

“I’ve tried, ok? And I just don’t. Can’t!”

“Don’t hate me?”

Altair spat out a tendon, still staring angrily at the wall. “Stop asking.”

Chapter Text

“Why, don’t you look dashing?”

Remus scowled at Sirius, who only grinned and stepped aside to let him inside the pub. Remus had never been to The Seven Centaurs before, perhaps because it wasn’t a place that you simply went to. You needed to know someone, who knew someone, who knew someone… And frankly, Remus had never known that someone—until now.

“It’s nice,” he observed, slipping out of his jacket. Sirius stepped in behind him, pointing to the bar.

“The bartender’s great, too. Want a drink?”

Remus knew he shouldn’t—he couldn’t give Sirius too much power, and alcohol wasn’t going to help him with that—but he needed something to calm his brain. He nodded and followed Sirius to the bar.

They steered clear of any blue liquids that time, opting instead for Firewhiskeys. Sirius paid without a word, and Remus didn’t refuse. He had avoided Gringotts for some months now, living off the money he’d collected the last time. It was never a pleasant process – he didn’t know when the time would come that instead of being taken to his vault, he’d get sieged by Aurors.

“I think they’re starting,” Sirius murmured beside him, gesturing to a small stage setup behind them. They whirled around on their stools and settled in to listen.

“We’re Rowena’s Ravens,” the lead singer, a tall woman, said into the mic, “and this is our song Dark Magic.” She swept her knotty black hair over one shoulder and grabbed the mic stand with one hand, whirling her wand with the other. The lights in the bar went off and the drummer hit the first beats with his sticks.

They weren’t terrible, but even Sirius—who’d assured Remus they were worth the trip—winced a couple of times, listening to the screeching of the violin. The people around them listened attentively, entranced. “What’s going on?” Remus muttered as a wizard to his right stood up and began slowly swaying toward the stage, looking as though he was high off the planet.

“Have you seen the violinist?” Sirius asked, his eyes fixed solemnly on the singer. Remus shook his head; he could hear the violin, but its player was safely hidden behind a concrete pillar. “Don’t look, then,” Sirius murmured. “She’s part Veela.”

Remus turned to him sharply. “Oh?”

“Mhm. Better keep your eyes off her, otherwise I’m afraid I won’t see you for the rest of the night.”

Remus elbowed him in the gut and turned back to the stage, also staring solely at the singer. She was good enough—better than the violinist by far—and if you could ignore the screeching sound in the background, it wasn’t impossible to enjoy the show. Sirius handed him another drink midway through, which he downed instantly.

Once the band stopped playing and everyone began clapping around them (a few people had migrated to the front of the stage, staring eagerly at the supposedly breath-taking violin player), Sirius cleared his throat on the stool beside Remus. “What’s the verdict?” he asked.

“It was… interesting,” Remus returned. He watched as the lead singer hopped off the stage and strode away to the bar. “Er… I liked it.”

“Hm. Wasn’t bad, was it?”

Remus shook his head. He was feeling oddly lightheaded, and he hadn’t even drunk anything more than what Sirius had offered him. “Romulus?” a voice said beside him, distantly.

“Not now,” he mumbled, staring at a petite woman who was slowly coming closer to him. She had long, flowy hair and high cheekbones.

“Romulus? I asked if you wanted another drink?”

“Later…” he breathed.

“Ro—oh, for fuck’s sake!” A hand grabbed Remus’s arm and turned him around aggressively, making him snap out of his haze. Now, eye to eye with Sirius, Remus’s mind suddenly became clearer.

“W-what did you say?” he asked weakly.

“Told you to keep your eyes off,” Sirius grumbled, steering them around so that they were facing the bar again. From the corner of his mouth, he murmured, “Never look at a Veela if you can avoid it. They’ll rob you of everything you own, and have you thank them for it.”

“Speak from experience?”

“I speak from years of Auror training,” Sirius corrected him haughtily. “Although, I thought it was common knowledge anyways.”

Remus smiled tightly. “Want another drink? Next one’s on me.”

***

“And then, she said—”

“Alright, time’s up, lads,” the bartender said, limping towards them with a dishcloth slung over one shoulder. “Sorry, Black, but I can’t keep making exceptions for you.”

Sirius lifted his hands in the air in surrender and slid off of his stool, glancing at Remus with a smirk. “We’ll be out in two minutes, tops,” he said. “Good show again, Kei.”

Kei shrugged his shoulders. “I pay them, they play. Now, bugger off, I’ve got to clean the place.”

Sirius winked at him and turned to Remus. “I’ll run to the loo – meet you outside in a minute?”

The street outside the bar was busy, with wizards rushing in all directions, presumably to find someplace to sit down and have one more drink. It was late already, and Remus had a hard time keeping himself upright. He was still quite tipsy, though he’d sobered up noticeably since the gig.

He pulled out a cigarette and smoked it there on the corner of the street, leaning onto the brick wall of The Seven Centaurs’ building. Sirius took a while longer to emerge than he’d promised, but it gave Remus enough time to finish his smoke. Surprisingly, he hadn’t thought about forest-Sirius all evening, or even Auror-Sirius. The only Sirius that had been on his mind was present day Sirius, who was now walking towards him with his hands casually in his pockets.

“Well, don’t keep me waiting,” he said slyly, assuming the empty spot beside Remus. “How was the second date?”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “The other night was a date?”

Sirius snorted, staring at the street ahead of them. “‘Course it was a date. Why else would I have asked you out a second time?”

Remus frowned thoughtfully, trying to focus his gaze on his shoes. It was hard; the alleyway was dark, the nearest streetlamp being some fifty feet away. He would’ve thought having werewolf blood in his veins would help his vision some, but alas, it didn’t do much in his favour in most things.

“Oh my,” Sirius said. “Did I not make it clear enough?”

Remus turned his head to look at him. Sirius was smiling boyishly, his head tilted in Remus’s direction, like an offer. Remus licked his lips. “I suppose not, then.”

As elegantly as a cat, Sirius pushed himself away from the wall and rounded on Remus, stepping so close to him their chests touched. He leaned closer and whispered right by Remus’s ear, “Take me home?”

Even in his tipsy stage, Remus managed to apparate close enough to The Leaky Cauldron; they only had to walk around the corner, and they were at the inn. Tom was hustling behind the bar counter, whistling a tune to himself. He greeted them with a sly smirk. “Mr Howell,” he said, winking. “You’re back.”

Remus, by now pulling Sirius along with him by the hand, only stopped to say, “My room—?”

“It’s ready for you, Mr Howell. As always.”  

Remus deflated. “Thanks, Tom.”

Upstairs in the small room, Remus stopped at the bathroom door. He looked over his shoulder at Sirius, who was observing his surroundings curiously. “Just need the loo,” Remus said, cracking the door open. Sirius nodded at him and turned to inspect the wooden cabinet to his right.

Inside the bathroom, Remus stopped in front of the mirror and took a good look at himself. His cheeks were red from all the drinking, and he smelled of the forest – he hadn’t had time to shower before his ‘date’ – but he didn’t think Sirius would care enough to notice. He needed to stop worrying so much, anyway; Sirius wasn’t going to find out. It was far too absurd, what Remus was pulling off – Sirius would never even begin to suspect anything, let alone believe it was possible. It was just Marlene, infecting her worries to him.

Flushing the toilet for good measure, Remus exited the room and found Sirius by the windowsill, seemingly trying to count every dust particle in the room. “It’s very… homey,” he commented, touching the dirty window with his fingertips.

“You can say it’s terrible—it’s not my own. Though you could call me a regular with how much time I’ve spent in this place.”

“You and that creepy-looking guy behind the bar go way back, eh?”

Remus nodded. “You could say so. Tom’s nice.”

Sirius ignored this and instead said, “It’s not too bad.” He was now testing the material of the curtains between the tips of his fingers. Remus suspected there were moths hidden in their folds, but he figured Sirius had seen worse. He didn’t care enough to point it out.

“It’s pretty horrid, actually,” he mused, “but it’s better than sleeping under the stars.” Is it really?

Sirius turned to look over his shoulder. “Why stay here so often, then?”

Remus shrugged. “It’s the cheapest option.”

Sirius huffed a laugh. “What, do they not pay you enough at Gringotts?”

Remus didn’t answer, just offering another shrug. He sat down on the bed and watched as Sirius brought his self-guided tour of the small room to a dramatic end by flopping onto his stomach on the mattress. He let out a satisfactory sigh. “It’s more comfortable than it looks,” he said, rolling onto his back. His eyes met Remus’s, who was helpless to do anything but laugh.

Sirius walked his fingers across the mattress to where Remus’s leg rested folded beneath his other one. He tapped Remus’s thigh a few times, absently. “I didn’t know you were going to be at dinner the other day,” Remus said. He watched Sirius’s fingers come to a halt. “In the pub around the corner, with Lily, James, and Marlene. Did you?”

Sirius’s mouth tugged up at the corner, and he looked guiltily at Remus. “I’d say no, but I’m a terrible liar. So, yes, I did know you were going to be there. Which may have encouraged me to take up James’s sudden offer of a delicious dinner out.”

“I’m surprised, after the impression I gave of myself back when we first met.”

“What do you mean? You were charming as ever.”

“I was drunk, Sirius, and that’s about it.”

Sirius barked a laugh, sitting up to scoot closer to Remus on the bed. His fingers felt warm against Remus’s neck, his mouth even warmer. “You were charming,” he breathed, shooting shivers down Remus’s spine. “Couldn’t get you off my mind afterwards.”

“Oh.”

It didn’t take long for both Remus and Sirius to be free of their clothes. Remus fought the urge to turn the lights off completely—not necessarily because he was insecure about his scars, but because the chances of Sirius recognising them to be courtesy of a werewolf were fat. And for a second, Sirius did inspect the marks curiously—Remus was certain he’d already been found out—but then he began kissing him intensely and, for at least a moment longer, Remus was spared from having to explain.

“Wait,” Remus said when Sirius’s hand slipped past the waistline of his pants, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“In case you haven’t noticed,” Sirius breathed, smirking as he slowly dragged a hand down Remus’s thigh, “I’d rather this never ends.”

Of course, to Sirius, this was just another hook-up with just another wizard. Had he known who Remus really was, he would have hexed him across the room in a matter of seconds. Remus felt a pang of guilt in his chest, thinking about Marlene, but it was soon forgotten about when Sirius moaned right into his ear. Remus found himself repeating the sound, only in a much less dignified way.

After they had both got their end of the deal, Sirius breathlessly laid his head down on Remus’s chest. “You’re not real,” he whispered. It was terribly cruel how right he was.

Remus, trying to decide which positioning of his arms was least awkward, ended up folding them over Sirius’s bare back. He tried hard to come up with something sensible to say. Before he succeeded, though, Sirius shifted slightly, one of his bony hands coming up to trace a line down Remus’s side. “How’d you get these scars?” he asked, quietly. Remus should have been offended by the directness of it, but he only felt the raging need to be honest with him; to not lie by saying that they were the result of an untamed dragon losing its temper. Of course, really, he would have chosen death over telling the truth.

“How do you think I got them?” he asked instead, to spare his selfish heart from spitting out lie after lie. He pretended it was less cruel that way.

“I think you were too confident in yourself once and did not believe that a dragon could hurt you. And then, poof! You were proven wrong. Because of course, you silly man, you stand no chance against a dragon.” The tone of Sirius’s voice was not malicious but rather playful. He looked up and grinned.

Remus smiled back at him. The scar in particular that lay beneath Sirius’s hand was one of those given to him by Fenrir. And yes, he had been naïve and ended up quarrelling with the older werewolf about something stupid, as if he could ever have won. He had been barely twenty at the time and much too confident in himself for his own good. It had been practically playfighting for Fenrir, and, as his final say, he had slashed his sharp nails across Remus’s side. Come morning, everyone had acted as though nothing had happened, but from then on, Fenrir had worn a smug smirk around Remus, who in turn had barely been able to look him in the eye. Altair had not yet joined the pack back then, and Remus was glad the man was not half as stupid as he had been.

Remus thought he might be able to take Fenrir on now, but not because of his strength or the vicious snapping of his jaw; he thought he could outsmart Fenrir. Fenrir was not stupid by any means, but he, too, was too self-confident to ever doubt his own abilities. Much like Remus had been. There was nothing that quite portrayed more weakness than that.

“Did I get it right?” Sirius asked.

“Not even near,” responded Remus. The corner of his mouth tugged up. He felt the scar that ran from the back of Sirius’s neck up to his scalp, where it lay hidden beneath his hair. “My turn,” he said. “Did a Hippogriff give you this?”

“Sorry?” Sirius shoved him away, laughing. “A Hippogriff? Christ, do you think I’m that stupid?” 

“Hippogriffs are highly intelligent animals, actually.”

“Yes, Romulus, I know. And only dangerous when disrespected. I’m simply offended that you think I’d ever do such thing!”

Remus snorted. He ran his hand through Sirius’s hair, leaving the scar alone. Sirius closed his eyes, shifting into a more comfortable position. He touched Remus’s wrist gently. “Can I stay the night?” he whispered.

Remus wanted him to. Every bone in his body was telling him to say yes. But it was slowly dawning on him what he had done: not only had he gotten himself in danger, but he had also put his pack at risk of getting exposed. How stupid had he been? Marlene had been right after all – for there he was now, letting Sirius touch his scars. Scars he’d gotten in the forest! Scars given by nails that could only belong to a creature as vicious as a werewolf.

The freedom of fifteen people depended on him, and he’d risked it over and over again. And for what? For his momentary pleasure? For his own, raging bitterness? He felt sick, suddenly.

“I’ve got to leave early,” he mumbled, practically shoving Sirius away as he rolled out from beneath him. He sat up on the edge of the bed. “As much fun as this has been, you should go now. This can’t happen again.”

Remus heard a scoff, then the rustle of bedsheets as Sirius, too, sat up. The mattress dipped as he scooted off the bed from the other side. “Merlin, didn’t ask you to marry me,” he muttered.

From the corner of his eye, Remus could see him bend down to pick up his shirt and trousers. He pulled them on, then appeared in Remus’s line of vision with his hands on his hips. “Seriously, though,” he huffed, “What happened? I asked you a simple question – you could’ve just said no! There’s no need to be so butthurt about it.”

“I don’t do one-off things.”

Sirius smirked. “Yeah, you do. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.” He shrugged his jacket on, then turned around and strode to the door. “Let me know when you’re back in town,” he called over his shoulder.

Remus stared at the door long after he was gone. He would have said there was no way that was ever going to happen, but he didn’t believe it himself.

***

Though he would’ve had to get back to his pack soon anyway, Remus’s trip to London ended up being a record-breakingly short one. Early in the morning, he took his key back to reception, bearing his belongings. “Leaving so soon?” Tom quipped, his wand poised, commanded to do the dishes while he counted the till. He always liked to pretend he was a busy man.

“Something came up,” Remus said, already backing in the direction of the door. “See you in a few weeks!”

The innkeeper smirked. “Bye, Mr Howell.”

The castle ruins looked hollow as Remus walked past them, as if for the first time they weren’t welcoming him. He knew he had screwed up, probably in the worst way imaginable. It was clear that if Fenrir was to find out what he had done, he would not see his pack ever again—in fact, he might not see anything ever again. For the umpteenth time, Remus scolded himself for having been so reckless. He would do better – he would forget about Sirius altogether. Marlene could tell the Auror Remus had taken up a job offer in Ghana, and he’d be free to live with his pack until his hair turned grey.

“Remus!” someone shouted from the distance—Karina. She was picking acorns by the edge of the forest, a weaved basket in her arms. Meekly, Remus made his way over.

“Hi,” he waved in greeting.

“You weren’t gone long.” She had already turned back to the ground, which was covered in fallen acorns. They were good for potions, which Karina often spent her pastime brewing. She used to leave them at the edges of villages for wizards to take and use, until Fenrir had noticed and strictly forbidden it. It was a shame; Remus thought it had been a beautiful gesture. Karina seemed to have an endless supply of those, and no one to spend them on.

“You said it yourself before I left: the moon’s not far off. I needed to come back here and prepare. Are you making potions again?”

Karina smiled and lifted her basket higher. “Acorns are good for the memory.”

Wondering briefly whether what she’d said was some sort of metaphor, Remus continued watching her in silence. She picked up acorn after acorn, twirling them gently in her fingers before setting them among the others, as if looking for clues in each of them. What was she trying to find – something to talk about? The air between them felt heavy suddenly, like one of them was supposed to say something but neither could come up with anything worthwhile. Remus figured it was on him.

Finally caving, he let out a sigh. “Where is he?” he asked.

“Altair?” Karina said calmly. She dropped another handful of perfectly shaped acorns into her basket. “He’s mad at you.”

Remus smiled weakly. “Isn’t he always?”

Karina glanced at him over her shoulder, nodding towards the river. “You’ll find him.”

“Thanks, Karina,” Remus said.

Leaving his friend behind, he walked through the forest, approaching the body of water nervously. The trees grew more densely there, isolating it into a small world of its own. Birds chirped overhead, collecting twigs and grass for their nests. Summertime was best spent in the forest, when every animal and creature seemed to be living in harmony. Come winter, these same grounds would turn into a battlefield. And, as it was, someone had to lose.

Arriving at the river’s bank, Remus looked around himself, trying to spot his friend. It was a warm day—they’d been in luck for a while now—and the gentle rippling of the river sounded inviting, like the call of a loved one. In a few months, the surface would be frozen over, connecting the sides of the river to one another like a bridge. That seemed like a faraway thought still, but Remus was always prepared.

He scoured his surroundings once more, just in time to see Altair pull himself up from the water just a hundred feet to his right. His hair was dripping water onto his shoulders, his skin glistening in the sun. Remus waved at him from the distance and started running towards him.

“Remus!” Altair said in surprise.

“I’m sorry!” Remus gushed, crashing into him. They toppled backwards, but Altair managed to keep them from falling to the ground. “I’m so sorry, Altair, I—I’m sorry.”

Having recovered from his inevitable shock, Altair wrapped his arms around Remus calmingly. “It’s ok,” he said. “It’s ok, Remus, we’re all good. I’m sorry, too.”

“No, I—” Remus faltered. How did you tell someone you’d messed up as terribly as he had? How did you tell someone you’d betrayed their trust, just like that, for no real reason?

“Don’t worry,” Altair mumbled, gently. “Everything’s okay.”

Remus nodded against his shoulder and, after a short while, let himself believe it. He breathed out heavily when Altair pulled away and bent over to shake his head about, droplets of water flying everywhere. His hair was a mess when he straightened back up, resembling more the nest of a greenfinch.

“You ok?” he asked, spotting the troubled look still present on Remus’s face.

“Fine,” he replied, watching as Altair picked his shirt up from the ground and pulled it over his damp skin. His lashes looked darker than usual with drops of water still on them, like long grass after rain.

Altair slid into his trousers and straightened up. “Walk with me?”

They headed away from the camp, strolling along the river. Remus felt calmer now, but he was going to have to fess up at some point, otherwise the guilt would strangle him. He knew he could tell Altair. Karina too, maybe, but she wouldn’t understand him. Any of the others were off the list – he couldn’t even consider confessing to them. They’d bite his head off.

They stopped in a clearing. Altair sat down on the dry ground, and Remus followed, letting his eyes rake his surroundings. The warm days and lack of rain were taking their toll on the nature; leaves and grass alike were drying, flowers were dying, and animals had abandoned their usual habitats to get closer to the river. He wished for rainfall more than anything.

Altair had dropped his head back, breathing in and out in rhythm with the gentle wind. Remus shifted on the crunchy forest bed, pulling absently at a hay. “I had sex with someone last night,” he started.

Altair opened his eyes and looked at him, face suddenly full of mirth. Remus eyed him tentatively but was met with fond laughter instead of confusion like he’d expected. “Look, I don’t know whether you’re telling me this because you want to make me jealous or because your heart is heavy with guilt, but I can assure you that I couldn’t care less about who you have sex with when I’m not around. I know you, Remus, and I know myself. You’re good.”

“I’m not trying to make you jealous! But this is… this is really bad.”

“Oh, Remus… We all make poor choices every now and then. I’m sure it’s not that bad—can’t be worse than Fenrir, anyway.” Altair’s eyes were teasing, but it didn’t help Remus with his confession.

“It was an Auror,” he blurted before he could talk himself out of it. ”I had sex with an Auror.” 

Altair’s pupils widened until they were the size of saucers. He let out a strained sound. “I take it back—that’s bad! Really bad.”

“I know!” Remus groaned, dropping his face into his hands. His throat felt tingly, like he might throw up if he wasn’t careful. The other man’s gaze on him felt burning, disapproving. He knew it wasn’t, but it should have been.

“Remus… does he know you’re a werewolf?”

“No, of course not! He doesn’t even know my real name.” 

“Your real name? Who does he think you are, then?”

Remus lifted his head, biting his lip against a grimace. “Romulus Howell.”

A laugh tumbled out of Altair, and despite the grimness of the situation, he looked delighted. “You really live a double life, don’t you, Lupin? Merlin, you’re unbelievable!”  

“I’m fucked, is what I am.”

“But if he doesn’t know you’re a werewolf, then you’ve nothing to worry about, right? And even less so if he doesn’t even know who you are. You’re fine, Romulus.”

“Stop,” Remus whined. Altair was stifling a grin now. “Fine, yes, everything is fine for now, but what if Fenrir finds out? Or any of the others? I’ll be dead before I can say a word in my own defence!”

“They won’t find out! Only you and I know, right? I won’t tell anyone, and you certainly won’t. Just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t,” Remus grumbled.

Altair squinted thoughtfully. “Romulus Howell… you know, sometimes I wonder how that miraculous brain of yours works. Oh! Do you want me to call you that from now on?”

“Do you want a fist in your face?”

“Oh-ho!” Altair gasped, dramatically, “He’s angry now! Come on, Romulus, don’t be so uptight. Didn’t Mr Auror do anything to loosen you up?”

Remus jerked his head up and promptly threw himself at Altair. His intention wasn’t to do any harm, but they ended up crashing to the ground with a loud thump, Remus half on top of Altair, wrestling him to the ground. “You’ll regret saying that,” he panted, face heating up with embarrassment.

There was boyish mischief in Altair’s eyes as he pushed off the ground and caught Remus’s lips in a kiss so quick, he had no time to respond. Beneath him, Altair, too, was breathing heavily. “You ought to be careful next time you shag an Auror,” he continued, “otherwise you might end up howling, and that would be no good…”

Remus laughed in disbelief. “You wanker,” he managed, a stupid smile pulling at his lips, which were now back on Altair’s. His hands tangled first into the man’s still wet hair, then moved to pin his wrists to the ground. He closed his eyes. Moments earlier, he had been genuinely vexed. Now he just felt silly and turned on.  

“You’re sexy when you’re like this,” Altair muttered. His cheeks had long since turned a faint red in colour. “Remus…”

It was all going in a very promising direction until Altair began howling quietly under his breath, barely able to contain his laughter. Remus tutted and shoved him away. He was still straddling Altair, and he thought about moving off him, but he was being held in place by two firm hands. “You’re so funny,” he deadpanned, looking away sulkily.

Altair reached up to stroke a hand over his cheek. His other hand moved up and down his side familiarly. “I’m only playing,” he mused. “It could be a lot worse, Remus. He could know you’re a werewolf, for starters, but he doesn’t. I don’t understand why you’re so freaked out. I promise I’ll keep my mouth shut about this.”

Remus sighed. “I trust you, you will. I just… ugh! I feel stupid for giving in to the temptation. I should have just sent him right out the door. No, I should never have invited him in in the first place! I don’t know what got into me!”

“There have been worse mistakes.”

“I still feel stupid.”

Altair’s smile turned sympathetic. He pushed gently at Remus’s shoulder until he moved off him, then promptly sat up. “Maybe it was stupid, but it’s not like you’ve actually caused any harm. Just forget about him, Remus. That’s what I would do.”

Remus nodded mutely. Altair was right: it wasn’t too late to back down.

Chapter Text

The thing with Altair Warwick was that he had been given a humongous mouth, a brain twice as big, and a heart that was larger than the two combined. During the course of the next couple of days, he was the sole reason Remus was able to keep at least some sort of a grasp on his sanity. His horrendous slip with Sirius was still eating him up from the inside, and though Altair wouldn’t let him hear the end of it—there was some irony to it, after all—it was also he who assured Remus that his days had not yet come to their end.

Somehow, in the middle of all the regret and uncertainty, he was able to smack enough sense into Remus’s head that some of it ended up sticking. He was kind, too—almost like he understood, although Remus knew there wouldn’t ever come a day when Altair would do something quite as stupid. But he forgave Remus, and that was plenty enough. Remus was just glad to have someone to share his many burdens with, and Altair had always been the stronger of the two.

It was like a thick fog had lifted from around Remus. Things were finally starting to look clearer again. He had fucked up royally, yes, but the real damage was yet to be caused. If he was lucky, he would be able to control, perhaps even prevent, the biggest harm from happening altogether. All he needed to do was disappear from the planet altogether, at least as far as Sirius was concerned – maybe easier said than done, but he could just send him a letter and lie about getting a sudden work gig somewhere behind Merlin’s back. At least then, Sirius wouldn’t come looking for him and he could keep living his peaceful pack life until his body gave in. Marlene was obviously an active problem of his, but they could always meet in secret if it came down to that. She would understand. It was a fool-proof plan.

But, as with everything, even the brightest day could be ruined by a few measly, unexpected rainclouds.

It was merely a day before the full moon when Fenrir finally returned to his pack. Remus was sitting out front with Sebastian, scouring berries they had picked from the forest earlier that day. It was an easy job, one they probably had a spell for, but it felt good to do something with their hands while they talked. The approaching full moon was making everyone restless, and taking it out on one another never led to much of anything.

“It’s been a quiet couple of days,” Sebastian observed as he separated red berries from their stems and leaves, letting the scraps fall to the ground. He was so far progressing much faster than Remus, who had only managed to produce half a bucket of clean berries, compared to Sebastian’s nearly full one.

Remus hummed in agreement, popping a few berries in his mouth. Sebastian gave him a long look and smiled, shaking his head. “It’s no wonder you’re not making any progress,” he mused. “Half your berries go in your mouth.”

Remus shrugged happily, not too bothered. There were plenty of berries left in the forest to pick and scour, and they had nothing if not time.

He had woken that morning feeling pleasantly light. He supposed he mostly had Altair to thank for it, but it did help that he was so isolated from the rest of the world, too. When he wasn’t thinking about the wizarding world outside of the pack, he wasn’t thinking of Sirius either. And when he was with his pack, he was resolved to being with his pack – too-friendly Aurors and longingly awaiting friends easily forgotten.

When Fenrir showed up, he was wearing a grin that signalled he had either done something terribly cruel or shagged someone very sexy while away. Remus truly hoped it was the latter; Fenrir’s behaviour lately had gotten a bit too close to the fine line between expected animality and sheer brutality. “I cannot wait for the full moon,” the older werewolf said languidly as he strutted across the yard of the castle ruins. “My body is practically aching to turn already.”

Remus got an ominous feeling in his stomach.

They chose to spend their next full moon in the forest beside the castle too, given the peacefulness it had so far provided them with. Remus liked it. The wolf liked it. It felt familiar and comforting, and he knew his way around the woods better now. Most importantly, it made keeping an eye on Fenrir easier.

For the first half of the night, the wolf succeeded. It was practically Fenrir’s shadow, following him everywhere and never letting him out of sight. Fenrir was clearly frustrated about it and kept baring his teeth at Remus and growling lowly, snapping his jaws in warning. But Remus wouldn’t yield. Not tonight.

He was able to keep his focus until a scent caught his nose, strong and nearby, and the wolf grew intrigued, forgetting all about its previous quest. That was the thing with being an animal: you could hardly focus on many things at once, and once something was forgotten, it was forgotten. Curious and hungry, it sniffed the air again. Was it a rabbit? No. A deer? Possibly, though it didn’t quite smell like one. The scent was much less animal.

The wolf turned its head around, searching hungrily. And there it was, just out of reach: he could see the antlers poking out from behind a tree not far from him. It was as if the stag was watching him. The wolf took a few careful steps toward it, head held low, and the deer backed away, slowly. They were both aware of one another’s presence now.

The deer began sprinting away suddenly, sensing the playfulness in the wolf’s movements, and the wolf leapt after it. Its heart was thumping with adrenaline. It followed the animal down to the river’s bank, dodging tree after tree, and then along the river and into a labyrinth of pines and huge rocks. It lost sight of the stag but kept sniffing it out, snout close to the damp ground. It was only when the smell of the stag started growing fainter and fainter that the wolf stopped.

It looked around itself, confused. It hadn’t come too far – it could still see the river and the funny-shaped rock it’d passed not long ago when it had still had its eyes on the stag. Yet the animal was nowhere to be seen. It was impossible to sniff out the direction it had gone, too – it had managed to disappear like smoke into thin air. The wolf had now lost sight of not only the stag, but of the pack’s leader, too.

***

Unlike most times, Remus woke up alone that morning after the moon. He could sense his loneliness even before he opened his eyes to look – there were no sounds of breathing or snoring or commotion around him. Just the hum of the wind, the idle sound of water rippling, and the chirp of birds in a tree nearby. When he opened one eye to check his surroundings, face still mushed against pine needles and mud, he saw the river not many feet away from him. He must have been on the opposite side from the castle.

He found a narrow point in the river and sloshed in, making his way to the other side. Just walking hurt, and he had managed to cut his leg over the course of the night too, but he reached the castle not long after. The others weren’t there, and after he had put on his clothes and grabbed his wand, he returned outdoors.

From the entrance of the castle, he limped out of reach of the protection spells and in the direction he thought he could faintly smell the others. It was a beautiful morning. He watched a rabbit come to a standstill as he walked by, its ears shooting up straight, unmoving like a statue. He smiled sadly to himself and continued his journey towards the more-than-familiar scents.

Sure enough, he found his pack in a clearing of trees some hundred feet away. Everyone was up when he sauntered to them, though they were still rubbing at their eyes and stretching out their bodies. Nobody made a comment about his peculiar wakeup spot, though it might have just been because they hadn’t noticed his absence in the first place. He stopped in his spot and closed his eyes, letting his head drop back on a deep inhale. The air felt different somehow – heavy and still. Threatening. He checked the sky for a storm approaching, but there wasn’t a cloud in sight.

When he looked around himself, he noticed the others looking about too, curiously. There was whispering, concentrated sniffing, confused frowns. They could all sense it. Someone was approaching.

“It’s a wizard!” Alyna suddenly cried out. “Come on, we need to go!” Without waiting for the others, she turned on her heel and disappeared. There were noises of confusion and panic. Remus watched the empty spot she had been standing in mere seconds ago. From behind him, he could hear someone else apparating, too.

Altair seized his hand. “There you are—come! We can’t stay here. He’ll see one of us!” He tried to get Remus to move, grunting frustratedly when he didn’t even look his way. “Remus! Stop acting brave!”

Even more sounds of people apparating out of the clearing followed. Remus sniffed the air. He could smell the wizard, and he knew exactly who it was. His stomach grumbled, deceiving him, and he licked his lips as if by instinct. Sirius was getting closer, moving quickly through the trees surrounding them; he was surely trying to be inconspicuous, but his cunningness could not beat a werewolf’s senses.

“Fucking hell,” Altair huffed. He yanked once more at Remus’s hand, but when he refused to move, Altair let go and fled. Remus jerked his head around, stunned to see him—and everybody else—gone, and for a crucial moment, he dropped his guard down.

“Stupefy!”

The hex hit Remus from behind, striking him to the ground easily. If it weren’t for the full moon still weighing down on him, he might have had the energy to get up and fight back. But now, before he could even move his hand to grab his wand from his pocket, he was hit by another spell. He squirmed on the ground, his face rubbing against the mud and panic rising in his throat like bile. This was it. Sirius would see it was him and know immediately.

There were magical binds tying his wrists and ankles together now, burning into his skin. It was silver, of course – Sirius was many things, but he wasn’t stupid. Remus could hear a few hasty shouts in the distance, and then the sound of quickly approaching footsteps. He tried to growl in disdain, but no sound came out; his voice had been stolen. He kicked angrily at the ground, but it was no good. The chains only rattled sadly, mocking him.

“I’ve got you now,” said a voice above him. He felt a boot touch his shoulder, nudging him around onto his back. The second their eyes made contact, the man before him paled visibly. It was as if Earth had stopped spinning.

“You,” Sirius breathed, disbelievingly. His pupils were blown, and with one motion of his wand, Remus could feel his vocal cords open up again. Despite his terror and the chains tightening around his wrists, Remus didn’t let his expression waver. He thought that courage was the only thing he had going for him now, even if it was only pretended.

“Surprise,” he managed to choke out.

Sirius looked beyond shocked. His knuckles were whitening around his wand, and with each passing second, the chains seemed to grow tighter, burn even hotter. Remus could smell not only the silver, but his own skin sizzling and burning. It was only when he couldn’t control himself any longer and let out a pained shout that Sirius eased his grip on his wand. He whipped it again, and the silver turned into iron. Remus scowled up at him.

“Let me go,” he growled.

“I can’t do that,” Sirius said, his voice taut. His eyes were still raking over Remus’s face, his shoulders, his torso. He seemed to be in denial.

“Well?” Remus breathed. He was out of breath and in pain, but nonetheless, he felt a tiny bit of satisfaction over the baffled look on Sirius’s face. At least Remus had managed to do some damage to his ego, even if this was his last day as a free man.

Sirius sputtered, “You’re… You’re…”

“Come on,” Remus prompted. “It’s not a bad word. You can say it out loud.”

“But…”

“I’m a werewolf, Sirius. But I think you already realised that.”

In his younger years, Remus’s mother had always said that albeit he was normally quite shy, in times of danger, he could be stupidly courageous. Maybe that was where his bravery now stemmed from. He was at an Auror’s—the head of the Werewolf Capture Unit’s—mercy, and yet he felt a foolish sense of power overtake him. He was frightened too, but he was never going to show that to Sirius.

“I should put you behind bars,” Sirius grumbled, finally, looking down at him in spite.

“But why?” asked Remus. Behind his back, he was trying to loosen the chains and set himself free, but to no avail. “It isn’t a crime to be a werewolf, is it, Black? You would know, eh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sirius snapped.

“Didn’t you just get a promotion?” Remus snarled. “I would’ve thought you’d have found me out when you had me naked in front of you, but apparently not.”

Sirius opened his mouth, only to close it again hesitantly. Something changed in his eyes. “Did you know?” he demanded angrily. “Did you know who I was when we first met?”

“I didn’t know your name,” Remus responded, relishing the terror growing in the other man’s eyes as the words left his mouth and hung in the air around them. He knew he was on thin ice, but playing with time was all he could do. Grunting in pain, he continued, “But I did recall seeing you, once. In a place quite similar to this one, actually.”  

Sirius acted faster than Remus anticipated him to. He held up his wand, aiming it at Remus’s throat, and muttered something under his breath. Remus gasped, his head jerking back as the hex reached him.

He blamed his weakness on the full moon, but he couldn’t protect himself without his wand. He wasn’t a novice when it came to wandless incantations, but now, as he felt something invisible squeeze tighter and tighter around his neck, threatening to strangle the life out of him, he could not find the focus in himself to do anything. Maybe if he had been in real danger, he would have been able to squeeze enough out of himself to knock Sirius over and give himself time to apparate. But, as it was, he didn’t think the man posed any real threat to him. He didn’t think Sirius would hurt him – not right now.

“You son of a bitch,” Sirius spat out, his face twisting with rage. For a fleeting second, Remus did fear for himself. But he also knew that Sirius had some sense in that brain of his, and he wouldn’t do anything he would later have to regret. Technically, Remus had done nothing wrong. Not in the eyes of the law, anyway.

Well, unless you counted the whole unregistered werewolf thing.  

He reminded Sirius of his innocence, choking out the words, “Why are you here again?”

Sirius’s frown deepened, and after a few more moments of tormenting Remus with the invisible rope, he lowered his wand again. He didn’t put it away, though, only let it hover by his side. He looked sceptical. “There was another attack last night,” he said, warily. “Happen to know anything about it?”

Remus scoffed a laugh. Even if he did, did Sirius really expect him to expose himself and his whole pack? And besides, he had heard nothing about an attack, not since the full moon before the last. He shook his head, eyes trained on Sirius’s grey, tired ones.

“I have Veritaserum in my office in London,” threatened Sirius, “if that’s the way you prefer to do this.”

“I’m telling the truth,” Remus grunted. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve been in the forest all night.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’d like to think I know where I’ve been.”

“Your mind doesn’t work the same way when you’re a wolf. You could have been anywhe—”

“Don’t tell me how my mind works,” Remus spat out, furiously. It was bad enough that Sirius did what he did for a living—did he have to pretend to know everything, too? Remus attempted pulling his hands apart, but he only managed to hurt himself as the chain clanked loudly, resisting the motion. He winced and tried again. Sirius watched him quizzically. “Let me go and I’ll speak,” Remus tried.

“You just said you don’t know anything.”

“Why am I tied up?! I haven’t done anything!”

“Because I need answers and if I let you go now, I won’t likely see you again!”

“What a smart one you are,” Remus muttered.

“The attack was in a village not far from here. Do you think any of your pack could have paid a visit? You’re one of Greyback’s, are you not?”

“One of his what?”

“Answer my question!” Sirius snapped.

“I don’t know! I’m not my pack’s keeper. And I certainly won’t tell you anything.”

“That leaves me no choice but to take you to London and investigate—”

“Oh, for Godric’s sake!” Remus exclaimed. Tilting his head and articulating exaggeratedly clearly, he said, “I have not attacked anyone.”

“Maybe not,” Sirius allowed, “But Greyback—”

“I,” Remus cut in, “am not responsible for the actions of Fenrir Greyback! And I’d never hurt anyone! Do you think I want someone to suffer from this shit?!”

“Yet you work for him, Romulus,” Sirius pressed on, right past Remus’s point. “After everything he’s done.”

“I work for no one! I’m only part of his pack. I’m loyal to him but that doesn’t mean I agree with everything he does.”   

Sirius hummed, lifting a thoughtful eyebrow. “And is that any better?”

“You’re one hell of a prick, Black. I know you’d just love to lock me up in that cage of yours at the Ministry, but there isn’t a stain to my conscience! Are you going to imprison me for having been bitten when I was a kid?”

“No one’s going to imprison you,” Sirius grunted. He was twirling his wand in his hand, looking doubtful.

Remus acted on impulse: he lifted his hips up from the ground and kicked Sirius’s ankles with his tied-up feet with enough force to make him lose his balance. As Sirius toppled to the ground, he lost his grip on his wand, sending it flying to the ground. The chains around Remus’s wrists and ankles rattled to the ground, and with one swift motion, he apparated out of the clearing. He could hear the muffled muttering that was Sirius cussing his name before the swirling started, and then he was flying across nothingness. Some seconds later, he thumped down on cold sand.

“Lupin!” came Fenrir’s voice before he could even register where he had landed. There was loud thumping from the distance, and soon a pair of strong arms were pulling him up to his feet. “Lupin, did he get you?”

Remus looked up. Fenrir looked angry, like it was Remus’s fault everyone had left him in the clearing all by himself. He clenched his jaw. “What’s it look like?” he gritted.

“Do not talk to me like that,” Fenrir growled. He shoved Remus aside, and he fell onto the sandy ground again, the grains hard against his skin. He tried to climb to his feet, but Sirius’s silver chains seemed to have sucked all might out of him. He faltered and landed on his arm, biting his lip against the pain and humiliation. He did not have to look around to know that everyone was staring at him. It was one thing to get told off by Fenrir; what hurt more was the physical violence. They rarely hurt each other within the pack.

Remus pointedly ignored everyone’s gazes, hoping that they would leave him alone if he just lay there long enough. He rubbed anxiously at the burning spots on his wrists and his ankles, the part of his throat that still felt hot with the curse. He genuinely thought he would not be able to get up any time soon.

“Remus,” said a soft voice, then, right above him. “Are you okay?” Remus turned to look up and meet Altair’s guilt-filled eyes. He knelt beside Remus, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Did he hurt you, love?”

“You just left,” Remus said, and though he tried to sound accusing, his voice came out weak. “You left me there with a fucking Auror, Altair. What the fuck?” He was angry, but he couldn’t blame Altair – he’d tried to save Remus, at least. It was more than any of the others had done, and Remus was wholly responsible for his own stupidity.

“I’m sorry! You were glued to your spot! I did try to take you with me, didn’t I? You just wouldn’t move!”

Remus looked away, wincing at the pain on his neck. His hand instinctively reached to rub at it. Altair placed a hand on his shoulder and replaced Remus’s with his own. “Did he hurt you?” he asked again, gently.

“A bit,” Remus mumbled. “But it was… It’s fine. I got away.”

“So, you saw who he was?” Altair asked eagerly, stilling his hand.

“Yes.”

“Did you recognise him?”

Remus swallowed around the lump in his throat. “No.”

Altair looked mildly disappointed, but he surrendered and nodded. “Okay. I’m just glad you’re fine, Remus,” he whispered. He rubbed absently at Remus’s shoulder, until Remus swatted his hand away and began to rise to his feet. Only, his legs betrayed him, and he went stumbling directly into Altair.

“Careful there, Lupin,” the other man said, offering his arm for support. “Come on, let’s get you to lie down.”

Once inside a small, half-collapsed cottage, Remus laid down on the floor and adjusted himself into a position that didn’t hurt. Altair stood beside him, looking down at him like a family member next to a loved one’s deathbed. The only thing missing were the flowers. “I really am sorry, Remus. I shouldn’t have fled without you, but you didn’t give me much of a choice. I panicked, I thought he’d catch us both.”

“It’s fine,” Remus sighed. “You’re right, it was my fault. I should have just let you take me with you. I don’t know what got into me.”

Altair crouched, placing a careful hand on Remus’s shoulder. He was younger, but Remus never ceased to feel safe in his presence. It was as though there was a barrier of protection spells around Altair which, when he was close, kept Remus safe too. It made them both untouchable.

“What happened, Remus?” Altair asked quietly. “Can you tell me? After the rest of us had left?”

“He, er… Well, nothing terrible. He used silver—nothing illicit. Luckily, I managed to distract him and get away.”

“Yeah, luckily... What was he after, then? Fishing for information, I’d assume.”

“Yeah, something like that… He said something about an attack last night. Asked if I had anything to do with it. I of course told him that I’ve never lain a hand on anyone.” 

Altair looked glum. “Fenrir should be stopped,” he said, voice low, “but everyone is too afraid of him to do anything. That Auror was the first one for ages who dared to even come look for us.”

Remus shushed him. “You shouldn’t speak badly of Fenrir here! Who knows when he’s listening? And you’re right about him needing to be stopped, but believe me, I’ve tried. I tried last night, and look where we are now! It’s a losing battle. Besides, you’d lose the pack if he got locked up in Azkaban. Where would you go then?”

Altair’s hand froze, momentarily. He moved it up to Remus’s face, swiping his hair gently off of his face. “I’d figure something out,” he whispered. Remus stared at him in silence. Then he reached his arms out and pulled Altair down to lie next to him, wrapping his arms around his torso. Altair released a shaky breath. “Would you join my pack if Fenrir were to get caught?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Remus stroked his hair. “Don’t be silly. We’re safest here, with Fenrir in the lead.”

“But he’s a bad person.”

“He is. Doesn’t mean we are, though. We aren’t responsible for his actions.”

“It sometimes feels like we are,” Altair confessed. Remus knew what he meant all too well. “I always think, I could have stopped him. And it’s true! We could already have stopped him if we’d really tried!”

Remus sighed. “I know,” he whispered, “but don’t think about that now. It’ll do you no good.” He pressed his lips to Altair’s hair, inhaling the smell of fresh air and the outdoors, which were significant to all the pack members but somehow attracted Remus most when it was Altair. He thought that maybe they were made for each other. Horrible as it was, Remus was lucky, in some twisted way, that Fenrir had bitten Altair too when he did. It wasn’t fate, but it was something neither of them could have controlled, even if they had wanted to.

Altair lifted his head, slowly, his mouth mere inches away from Remus’s. He leaned closer and closed the gap between them, letting their lips graze together ever so gently. “I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t in the pack,” Altair whispered. “I’d probably die. Or turn evil.”

Remus smiled, playing with a strand of Altair’s red hair. It made the other man smile too. “You would never. And to answer your question… Yes, I would stick with you if Fenrir was to get caught. Of course I would. This is the only pack I know, and you’re one of the few reasons I’ve stayed. I wouldn’t give you up.”

Chapter Text

That time, for good reason, Remus did not leave the pack between the moons. He was downright afraid of being found by Sirius or having to confront Marlene about everything; he expected Sirius to have already told James and Lily, but he doubted he would go to Marlene so soon. It was likely he already knew that she knew about Remus, having been in on the Gringotts lie, but half of Remus believed that Sirius wouldn’t say anything to her until he was sure. Hoping he was right, Remus only sent her an owl to explain that he couldn’t be reached for the next month or so and begged her not to write back to him. It felt cruel, leaving her in the dark, but it needed to be done.

June turned into July and July into August. Daylight reached its peak and then slowly began to fade again. It took with it the hopefulness of early summer and replaced it with the faraway but inevitable promise of winter. Winter and darkness and fear.

The pack moved camp often. They might spend a handful of days at an abandoned village and then apparate to a far-off forest for the transformation, only to find a new place after. It was exhausting but necessary. Keeping up with the passing days became harder and harder, but you didn’t need to know the date in the forest anyway. You knew when it was day and you knew when it was night, and that was enough. The Moon in the sky told them when it was time to turn.

Of course, Remus’s decision to stay glued to his pack didn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Most of his companions didn’t mind – it was all the same to them, where he spent his time. Altair had pressed on it for a while, but in the end, he had settled for simply being content to have Remus around. Karina had approached him with worry; she knew he had a life in London too, and he was never gone from England this long. But it wasn’t their reactions that made Remus feel uneasy – he knew their questions came from a place of kindness. It was Fenrir that he was worried about.

“Got yourself a bad reputation in London, eh?” the older man asked one day, after they had just come back from hunting. It was a cold day, and Remus’s fingers were frozen stiff despite all the running they had done. It had been a relief to come back to their camp and start a fire, but now he was stuck with the decision of abandoning the warmth it cast or persevering with Fenrir’s presence.

Remus didn’t answer, folding and unfolding his fingers over the flames. He was finally starting to feel something again, having spent five minutes crouching in front of the fire. More than ever, he was dreading the arrival of winter. 

Fenrir knocked him with his foot, sending him wobbling to the side. He had to catch himself by planting one hand on the muddy ground. “That why you’re not going back anymore?” Fenrir pushed on, sneering.

“None of your business,” Remus murmured, regaining his balance and beginning to rub his hands together. He could have used a spell to warm himself up, but with the way the pack was used to living, he was afraid he would come off poncy. Although Fenrir was an exceptionally skilled wizard, he was somewhat fond of doing things by hand. Remus supposed that was the wolf in him. He even found himself adhering to the same principles. It felt natural, more down-to-earth. It made him calm, even.

“None of my business?” Fenrir echoed mockingly. He had a thick fur coat draped over his shoulders, though it was only late August. How would they get through the bleak winter months?

“I just fancy staying here for now,” Remus gritted through his teeth, forcing himself to stand up. He turned to Fenrir. “Is that a problem?”

Fenrir smirked at him like Remus was but a little kid in his eyes. “S’not a problem, Lupin,” he said smugly, looking Remus up and down. “Just peculiar…”  

Another full moon passed, and the tensions within the pack began reaching new heights. As the days passed, everyone was on their guards, ready to jump and bite and defend themselves at the slightest irritation. They knew the war was getting darker. The worst part of it for them was not necessarily the attacks, nor their non-existent rights. It was that they didn’t know where they stood in all of it.

They hadn’t chosen a side. There simply wasn’t a side for them that gave them any hope or fulfilled its promises of acceptance and a normal life. Both sides lied and lied and begged and begged, but the pack knew there would never be peace for them. So, for the most part, they chose to live in isolation.

They experienced frustration because of the uncertainty; shame for not doing anything for anyone but themselves; guilt for simply hiding away; regret for having abandoned their families and cut all connection to them; relief about getting to stay away from it all; and invaluable unity among themselves. All of these things, and still none of them did anything to help themselves. It was easier, lulling in the comforting thought that the world kept spinning around them no matter what they did or didn’t do.

Only, for Remus, the passivity was starting to get too much. He felt antsy and worthless, knowing others were fighting for their freedom every day. He loathed himself for having hidden from real life for so long. He didn’t know what he could have done to help with the war efforts, but he knew that what he was doing now was possibly the most cowardly thing he had ever done in his life.

And so, he was torn between staying and returning to London. To Marlene. For the first time in ages, he really did feel homesick – though where his home was, he had no idea. It must have been with her. He missed her laugh and the comfort her presence brought him, and he missed actual showers and sleeping on a comfortable bed and not being freezing cold when he woke up.

He persevered five more days in the forest, until every bone in his body was screaming for relief. And that was when he apparated to Marlene and Dorcas’s doorstep.

***

“She won’t be home until later, I’m afraid,” Dorcas said. She eyed the fresh scars on Remus’s arms and the mud beneath his fingernails. He felt filthy and pathetic, standing there on the threshold of their tidy, picture-perfect house. Dorcas placed a hand on his shoulder. “Come on in, Remus. I’ll run you a bath. We’ve both missed you so much.” Her warm hand closed around his and pulled him inside.

Staring at the soft flicker of the fireplace, Remus felt like crying. He sat with a mug of tea in his hands, still feeling drowsy from his warm shower, while Dorcas cooked them lunch in the kitchen. She had not yet asked him why he was so forlorn, and Remus wished she wouldn’t. He would have had to admit that he didn’t know.  

They ate in silence, and Remus felt childish for having barged in there and still not being able to say a word. Dorcas kept glancing at him worriedly, but she didn’t push it. He had never been more grateful.

“Would you like to talk about it?” she finally asked, quietly, when Remus’s hands began to shake so hard he nearly dropped his plate on his way to the sink. He clutched onto the counter and hunched his back, shaking his head and sniffing. Dorcas stopped in the doorway. “Remus… Has something happened? I know you were gone a long time, and Marlene was starting to get worried. She thought maybe… she thought you might not come back at all.”

“I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye,” Remus whispered. It hurt too much to turn and look at her, so he didn’t.

“That’s what she said, too.” Dorcas padded quietly to him and took his empty plate, placing it in the sink. “Would you like me to make you the guest bed? You look tired.”

Remus didn’t sleep. He didn’t even try. He stared at the ceiling and listened to Dorcas’s footsteps downstairs. Every now and then, she would tiptoe to his door and open it quietly, peering in to make sure that he was alright—that he was still there. That was when he would close his eyes and pretend to be asleep. When the door clicked shut again, he dug his fingers into the mattress and forced thoughts like pack, Sirius, failure, and probable doom out of his mind.

It was seven in the evening when the front door finally clicked open and Remus could hear Marlene stomp in. He listened to her greet Dorcas, and then their voices dropped and became hushed, mere careful whispers. Remus rolled up to sit.

Tap, tap, tap, Marlene climbed the stairs hurriedly. Remus clambered up just in time for her to come barging in and launch herself at him. “Remus!” she gushed. “You’re back! What’s wrong?!”

Remus inhaled deeply and squeezed her as if that might somehow make her familiar scent even stronger. He felt his feet finally ground, pressing steadily against the floor. He started to feel like himself again, or at least his human side felt more intact to him than it had for a while. It was a refreshing, comforting feeling.  

“Where have you been?” Marlene whispered. It seemed she wasn’t willing to let go of him. He wrangled himself free, though, when his eyes started stinging.

“I’ve been with the pack. In… different places.”

“Has someone attacked you?” she interrupted him. Her finger trailed over a scar on his neck, starker than any of his other ones. It was fresh and her touch stung, but he didn’t flinch back.

“Everyone’s frustrated,” he said.

“You shouldn’t… I’ve been worried sick. Sick, Remus! Every day. I—I get that you don’t want to write to me all the time when you’re there, but Merlin, have I been scared for your life! I thought Fenrir had finally banned you from leaving!”  

Remus took her hand and looked her in the eyes. “No. But something’s happened.”

He sat her down and reminded her of that night back in May when they had had dinner at The Silver Laguna, and then drinks at the Potters’ the next day. How he had grabbed drinks with Sirius later, and then again when they had gone to see the band.

She had known all of this before, but the real shock came when he regaled his and Sirius’s night together in his room at The Leaky Cauldron; how Sirius had asked him about his scars and Remus had teased him about his. How he had kicked Sirius out and sworn to himself that that would be the end of it. And it had been, until they had met again. But this time it had been in the forest and Remus had been exposed and Sirius had been furious.

“And that’s why I couldn’t come back,” Remus whispered when the story finally reached its chilling end. Marlene looked both horrified and guilty. Remus didn’t want her to feel guilty. He wanted her to tell him what to do and to slap him and make him swear he would never say the name Sirius Black aloud again. But instead, she caressed his cheek with her hand and smiled at him sadly.

“Oh, Remus…” she sighed. “I wish I had known. I… I didn’t know he had found you.”

“He hasn’t asked about me?” Remus croaked. It was the thing he had been most afraid of – that Sirius might have already told her, and that she would be furious with him for being so careless. But apparently Sirius had a smaller mouth—or more self-control—than it seemed.  

Marlene shook her head, softly. “I don’t think he’s told anyone. Lily would have come to me, or James. But Remus… Does he know who you are?”

“No. No, I didn’t tell him. He was so angry, Marlene, and he had the right to be, but… he could’ve hurt me—he could’ve had me locked up, for fuck’s sake—and he didn’t.”

“He wouldn’t. Not if he’s not absolutely sure you’ve done something. He’s not a monster.”

Remus felt a gloomy wave wash over him. But he thinks I am, he didn’t say.

***

“Oh—oh my goodness, Remus!” Marlene burst out laughing, reaching up to wipe flour off Remus’s brows. He smirked and stepped back, coughing hard to get the white powder out of his throat, too. “Could you try and not make such a mess?” She smiled fondly, turning back to the dough she was kneading.

“S’not my fault you forced me to leave my wand in the other room,” he smiled, backing away to wash his hands in the sink. He grabbed a stray tea towel and used it to wipe his flour-stained face. They were making bread, which Remus didn’t recall having ever done before. His mother had used to love baking, but he wasn’t sure if she had ever included him as a kid. He couldn’t remember, anyway.

“It’s much nicer this way,” Marlene said, expertly twisting the dough in her hands.

“Slower, too.”

Marlene gave him a look. “But that’s the nice part! There’s nothing fun about whipping your wand once and shoving the bread into the oven! Hardly feels special that way.”

Remus hummed, inclined to agree. He was no virtuoso in the kitchen, but he didn’t mind being Marlene’s helping hand. So far, all he’d had to do was crumble yeast into lukewarm water and roll dough into small buns. She was much better at it than him—his rolls were uneven and cracking in places—but it was all for fun, anyway.

Sneaking up behind Marlene, Remus swiped a handful of flour off the table. He reached past her with his empty hand and pointed at the bun she’d just rolled. “That’s a good one,” he said. Before Marlene could get a word out of her mouth, he swivelled to her other side and threw the fistful of flour at her face.

Coughing, she jerked back. “Ooh, Remus Lupin, I’ll get you back for that one!” she roared, laughing as she too fumbled to swipe flour off the counter. She threw it at him, missing only by inches—mind, she couldn’t have seen much from behind the flour covering her eyes—and instead managed to shoot a cloud of white powder at a kitchen cabinet. Remus yelped and dived for cover, but Marlene was faster and succeeded on her second try; he got flour all over his shirt and trousers, some on his hair as well. He plunged at her, grabbing her from around the waist, smudging the front of her clothes in the process.

“Let me go!” she giggled as Remus lifted her off the ground and swirled her around. “You dickhead!”

“Never!” Remus sang, releasing one arm and reaching behind her to grab more flour. He shoved it down the back of her shirt, which was the last stitch for her. She managed to squirm free, all the while laughing and cussing his name.

“Remus!” she gasped, fanning her shirt out to get the flour out. Remus cackled, but then Marlene’s hand came to his mouth, shoving flour all over his face. He sputtered and stumbled back, knocking himself against the kitchen counter. “Take that!” Marlene giggled, still squirming to get the flour out from beneath her shirt.

Remus managed to wipe the flour out of his eyes just as Dorcas sauntered into the room, cladded in her work clothes. She stopped in the doorway and looked around herself, the floor and kitchen surfaces all covered in white, not to mention the two people who now looked as though they had just come inside from a snowstorm. “Goodness,” she said amusedly, blinking at the mess. “And I thought I was the disorganised one!”

***

Five days into his stay, Remus flooed to Knockturn Alley. Neither Dorcas nor Marlene had said anything, but the calendar on their fridge had had DATE NIGHT marked for today. He had made sure they heard him leaving.

There was a pub at the very end of the cobblestone street, a crammed place with boarded-shut windows and an eagle head doorknocker that snapped at any intruder with wrongful motives. Remus stepped in and regarded the deer’s skin beneath his feet making up for a carpet and the animal skulls on the walls around him. The human skulls. Coldness flushed from his toes to his fingertips, but he fought his qualm and didn’t turn away. It was a place Sirius Black would not step foot in in a lifetime.

He ordered a whiskey and kept an eye on it until he had drunk it down to the last drop. People came and went, and one look in the wrong direction at the wrong time could have probably ended up fatal. He drank and thought and drank more and forgot. Then he snogged a tall, dark-haired woman whose long fingernails dug painfully into his skin, and then he drank even more and ran to the toilets to throw up. The woman from earlier asked him to spend the night with her and he was tempted, but Marlene was waiting for him, and she would have died of worry and then come back to life to kill him with her bare hands, had he failed to come back. Godric knew she didn’t need to deal with any more of his escapades than she already did. And so, he returned home.

Home, he thought glumly as he wobbled down the path towards the house. He didn’t have a home. He had the pack, which was close as, and he had Marlene, but he didn’t have a home. The forest was his home sometimes, and sometimes it was a cave, and sometimes it was a room at the Leaky Cauldron, and sometimes it was Marlene and Dorcas’s guest bedroom. But none of it he could call his own—not truly.  

The house was quiet and dark, and he tried to be unobtrusive when climbing into his bedroom, but as expected, he failed terribly. He winced at the creak of the door, then nearly jumped out of his skin when Marlene flicked the bedside lamp on.

“Jesus!” he hissed, shutting the door behind himself. Having already got used to the dark and with his vision fucked up anyway because of the drinks he had consumed, the light burned his retinas painfully.

Marlene regarded him tensely, not looking one bit sorry for having nearly caused him to piss his pants. “You were gone a long time,” she croaked, rising to her feet. Her makeup was smudged on her lids and under her eyes.

“Have you been crying?” Remus asked, stupidly. Marlene trotted to him angrily and pressed a finger to his chest. Remus hoped she couldn’t smell the alcohol in his breath. She probably could.

“Yes, I’ve been crying, because you… you have the nerve to show up here and assure me you’re alright and then just… just leave without saying a word! I thought you’d gone back! I have to second-guess every time you leave whether I’m going to ever see you again! Can’t you—can’t you understand?!”

Remus could only stutter like he had nothing to defend himself with. And he didn’t, that was the thing. His purpose never was to cause harm to Marlene, but that seemed to be all he ever did—well, he sure didn’t make her life easier, in any case. Now, helpless to do anything else, he stared and stared and, finally, tried to blurt the first syllables of a litany of poor excuses. Nothing comprehensible came out.

Marlene withdrew her finger. “Are you stoned?!”

“No!” Remus croaked. He stepped closer to her, desperately. “No, I’m not stoned! I… I didn’t want to be a burden! I thought you were supposed to have a date night with Dorcas…”

“We were, but we agreed to reschedule it because you showed up and I was so happy to finally see you, and then… God! I can’t… I was so concerned!”

Remus looked down and gulped. The floor was spinning beneath his feet. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, not wanting Marlene to see the purple bruise on his neck. He tried to think straight, but his brain was fuzzy, and his ears were ringing, and…

“Remus.” Marlene’s voice was suddenly soft and came from close by. He looked up to her gentle, worried eyes. “I didn’t mean to shout, love.”

“I shouldn’t have come,” Remus uttered self-pityingly. “I’m not yours to look after. It’d be easier for you, wouldn’t it? If you knew I’d never come back.”

“Remus,” Marlene said again, firmer this time, almost offended, “Don’t say that. If we’re not going to get through this war by sticking together, then how are we ever going to survive?”

Chapter Text

Even after the fit Marlene had thrown the first time, Remus returned to the pub in Knockturn Alley multiple times, mostly to escape feeling numb and useless. He would sit around the house all day, too scared to leave during daytime but too antsy never to step outside. And so, he would go at night. He informed Marlene of his plans each time, having learned from his mistakes, and though she looked at him disapprovingly and said it wasn’t good for him, she never forbade him from going. She never joined him either, never said have a good time. She only said be safe and be back. And Remus always was.

This time in particular Marlene had not been happy about him going. The moon was getting close, and she had insisted he stay home with her and Dorcas. “We’ll make dinner,” she had tried, desperately. “Pork stew! That’s your favourite!”  

Remus had thrown the floo powder down and murmured, “Knockturn Alley.”

The pub was full to the brim again. It smelled of sweat and blood and anticipation and sick. Remus pushed his way toward the bar and asked for a beer. It was warm and disgustingly sweet, but he kept pouring it down his throat until nothing came out. Once you got through the first few, the rest tasted less icky. He made to clank the pint to the counter, but a hand grasped his wrist mid-motion.

Remus startled back. He was met by coal-black eyes and a crooked smile.

“Let me get the next round,” the man said. He looked Remus up and down, licking his lips and smirking.

Remus smiled back. He had got accustomed to people approaching him in the bar now; maybe it was because he was alone, or because they could sense his loneliness. He never minded; it was free drinks, after all, and he was lonely. Besides, what happened within those walls was bound to stay there too.

“As long as I get to choose,” he said.

“Whatever you want, love.”

Remus’s choice of beverage was scotch, and he twirled the glass absently in his hand as he and the strange man – Markov, he soon found out – flirted unashamedly. Markov didn’t tell him much about himself. He smiled lots, touched lots, leaned startlingly close to Remus when he laughed. He was charming, and it didn’t take Remus a lot of hesitation to kiss him. Markov laughed again, a gruff, delighted thing, as his fingers dug into Remus’s hips.

It was awkward. The pub was packed and loud, and Remus was being pushed against the counter as Markov licked into his mouth and sucked at his neck. It was sexy, too, but in a very teenager sort of way. It might have been more enjoyable, had people not been bumping into them from all directions every five seconds.

After a while, Remus excused himself to go the loo, mostly because he needed a second to breathe. Markov insisted on coming with him, and… oh. Remus asked for another drink from him and assured his companion that he would be back. Markov winked at him and nudged him away.

The men’s room was not only disgustingly stinky, but the floor was covered in piss and sick and the music boomed loud even there. Remus locked himself into a cubicle and breathed deeply, trying to ignore the horrid smell all around him. When he emerged from the toilets, he wasn’t too keen on returning to Markov anymore.

He pushed himself through the people lining up for a wee and spotted Markov looking lost on the dancefloor. He sighed. Markov was tall and hunky and would most probably have beaten Remus in a fight. He had promised Marlene that he would be as safe as he could be, and so he started walking again. The music was too loud, and—

“Hey!” he gasped.

Someone had grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and started dragging him away from the crowds. Remus stumbled backwards blindly, attempting to plant his feet sturdily on the sticky floor but failing terribly. He gasped for breath when his back hit a wall, hard. A hand curled to the front of his shirt, the face it belonged to covered in shadows.

“Let me go,” he growled, terrified, trying for a punch. He wondered for a moment whether Marlene had finally come to get him home herself, but then he caught a familiar scent. It was… “Sirius?”

Remus went limp and stopped fighting altogether. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t sniffed Sirius out before. He wasn’t sure where in the pub they were, either, but he couldn’t see or hear anyone else, only muffled music and shouts from whatever direction he couldn’t make out. Sirius’s hold on him was painfully tight.

“I thought I’d find you here,” he snarled. He stepped closer and his face finally caught light, emphasising every sharp angle and defined curve. Remus could see lines that hadn’t been there before and the purplish colour under Sirius’s eyes. He looked wretched beneath all the anger.

“Why are you here?” Remus choked out. He would have wrestled Sirius’s hand away if he wasn’t so set on not showing he was in pain.

“You know why I’m here,” Sirius bit back. “You’ve been hiding ever since that morning in the forest when you’d just… when you’d just turned.”

He must have sensed Remus’s difficulties with breathing, for he dropped his hand suddenly. Remus slouched against the wall, then straightened himself dignifiedly and scowled at Sirius. It was certainly a shock to see him there; it was hardly the sort of place a proper wizard just happened to saunter into. But then, Sirius hardly ever just happened to be somewhere. He must have followed Remus in.

“What do you want?” Remus grunted, repulsed by the idea. How long had Sirius been watching his movements for? Did he know he was staying at Marlene’s? Had he been there too, lurking in the driveway? It seemed much too undignified for someone like Sirius, but then, he was clearly serious about his job.  

“I demand an explanation!” Sirius growled, his grey eyes full of determination.

Remus looked him in the eyes. He felt nervous and stupidly, stupidly nonchalant, possibly thanks to the numerous drinks Markov had bought him. He shoved Sirius away and stomped towards the end of the corridor. This was the last thing he wanted to do tonight—finding Markov again didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore.

He heard a sharp whip and promptly thumped to the ground.

Sirius’s footsteps echoed behind him. Remus’s face was pressed against something cold and wet, and he tried to roll over, but he was bound. From the corner of his eye, he could see Sirius standing over him, haughtily. “It’s funny,” Remus said, voice strained, “how often we find ourselves in this exact position, isn’t it, Black? Me, tied up by you. I’m starting to enjoy it.”

“Shut your mouth and start talking.”

“That’s not exactly possib—argh!”

Sirius crouched beside him and regarded him loathingly. The ropes tightened until Remus’s fingertips started throbbing with the loss of blood, and only then did they disappear. Remus clambered onto his arse, backing himself against the wall. His nails scratched against the ragged concrete floor.

Sirius stood up and looked down at him. “I didn’t come here to play games.”

Remus, not too happy with this new positioning, pulled himself up to his feet as well. He tried not to look away when Sirius stepped closer. “Get over it, Black,” he gritted. “If you really wanted me locked up, you would’ve gone and done it already. Now we’re just playing cat and mouse. You catch me, I flee. What do you get from this?”  

“If you’d just listen to me, you’d know I don’t care to lock you up. Like you said, I would’ve already done it if I did.” Sirius clenched his jaw, steeling his eyes. “Who are you?” he asked, as if from himself. Remus didn’t budge. Sirius raised his voice and asked again, “Who are you?!”

“What are you on about?” Remus retorted. His voice had begun shaking. “You know bloody well who I am!”

“Romulus Howell doesn’t exist.” Sirius’s voice was taunting, threateningly soft. He grabbed Remus’s jaw roughly and forced it up. “I know you’re not real. I know you don’t work at Gringotts. You’re not registered, either. Does Marlene know who you really are?”

“No,” Remus choked out.

“Liar!”

“You can’t blame her!” Remus cried out, desperately. “You can’t—you can’t hold this against her! I asked her to lie for me! She and I, we go way back! She knows I’m innocent!”

“Who are you?” Sirius asked, for the third time already. Remus resolved not to give anything out for free. Hell would freeze over before he would confess to Sirius.

Sirius released him again, but he didn’t look any less vexed.

“It’s not that hard to figure out,” Remus panted, rubbing the front of his throat. He cursed himself for not staying to have dinner with Marlene and Dorcas. He would be safe if he had—they would be safe.  

“I’m not here to solve your silly little riddles. Either you tell me who you are, or… I know you’re a werewolf, and according to the wizarding law… Well, you know it. If your presence poses a threat to—”

“What about my rights?!” Remus spat out. “How in Merlin’s name does my presence pose a threat to you, Black? Well? You’re just hurt because you were so fucking gullible back when we first met! But I lied for a reason! Look where we are now!”

Sirius lifted his chin haughtily. “I’m only doing my job.”

“And I’m only trying to live my life in a way that’s least unbearable for me!” Remus responded. “Admit it, Black, you wouldn’t be half as resilient with chasing me down if we hadn’t shagged back when we were both in London! You’re just too proud to let this slip!”  

“Us shagging has nothing to do with this,” Sirius denied. “You lied to me about your identity! I have no clue who you are! You could be—you could be Fenrir’s right hand for all I know!”

“I haven’t done anything!”

“How the fuck would I know?!”

Remus bit his cheek and looked away. He was tired of all this; tired of being accused on the sole basis of his lycanthropy. He did feel guilty for lying to Sirius, but he could never have felt guilty for protecting the people around him.

Sirius took a deep breath that Remus could both hear and feel. When he spoke, he sounded much calmer than before. “I only need whatever information you have on Fenrir Greyback and the rest of your not-so-kind mates, okay?”

“Hunt them down, then!” Remus snarled. “You should know by now I’m giving nothing away.”

“You’re no better than he is, then.”

Sirius’s words felt like frostbites on Remus’s cheeks. Cold, harsh, true.

“I just want to live freely.”

“No one gets to live freely.”

“You’re close to it. You’ve money and no labels holding you back. You could just quit your job and move wherever you want and not give a shit about anything. I couldn’t do that. Even if I had the money, I’d still be… I’d still be…”

“Oh, stop your pity party! You’re wrong, besides! I couldn’t just move away, because I have people who need me, and a job, and people that I need—!”  

“Oh, what a tragedy! You have people who love you?!”

“—and morals! Anyone could flee the country and forget about the war, but that would be against everything I believe! But I guess you don’t know what having morals feels like, since—”

“I have morals!”

“—No you don’t! You claim you’re innocent, and still you watch quietly from the side as people get killed! You could help! You could do something! But instead you choose to hide away and—and lie about your name, for fuck’s sake! Listen to yourself!”

“What good would following my morals do to me?” Remus spat the words out like they were poison on his tongue, scornfully and loathingly. Rage was bubbling inside him, ready to surge over the edge. He took a tight breath and pointed shakily at Sirius. “I have no choice but to turn into a werewolf every month, and I’d rather do it with other people who are going through the same thing. It is so easy for people like you to forget that we’re humans, too! The—the Werewolf Legislation is shit!”  

“I know that,” Sirius said. Remus startled. Not because of Sirius’s words but the honesty in his eyes. The understanding. “I know that, okay? I don’t—I don’t support the Legislation. I don’t think it’s fair. But you’ve got to understand… It’s for safety purposes.”

“It’s inhuman.”

“It’s necessary.”

“You make me sick.”

“It’s not written by me!” Sirius gushed.

And oh, wasn’t Remus aware of that. Hadn’t it been his own father who had written down the final signature? Hadn’t it been his idea in the first place? He forced his brain not to go there and instead turned to Sirius again, seething. “I don’t care who it’s written by!” he shouted. “We deserve to be treated like humans!”

“Of course! But Fenrir—”

“Don’t,” Remus barked. “Fenrir’s cruel, but… a lot of werewolves are. And a lot of us are not. But we’re all hurt and—and twisted with rage because the system is so messed up and we won’t be heard! Can’t you see?”

Sirius gnawed quietly on his lip. He seemed to have shrunk, but there was still a cold edge to his movements and the way he eyed Remus. He nodded, curtly.

Remus folded his arms and looked away petulantly. “So don’t come lecturing to me about morals when yours clearly aren’t that strong,” he muttered.  

“I know what’s right and wrong,” Sirius said. “That doesn’t mean I can change everything. But I have hope—”

“Hope doesn’t offer me much solace. I need action.”

“Then take action!” Sirius huffed. “Don’t just sit around and watch while your psychopath friends go killing unsuspecting people. What you’re saying makes no sense! You claim all you want is freedom, but why not fight for it, then?”

“Because it’s a hopeless battle!”

“Trying would be better than what you’re doing now!”

Remus laughed scornfully. “And what am I doing now?”

“Labelling yourself a martyr.”

“Oh!” Remus exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. He smiled mock-delightedly at Sirius. “A martyr! Please forgive me for feeling like shit about being treated like shit all the fucking time! Forgive me for having fucking feelings, because I am nothing but a horrible beast who does not, cannot, feel any of the hate thrown at me! I’m just overreacting! Do you want me to apologise to you for being a werewolf?!”

Sirius looked at him, unimpressed, hands on his hips. “Stop it, will you?” he drawled out. “I know you’ve a shitty life and everybody treats you unfairly, but what’s dwelling on it going to do? People believe what they see, and they see people like Fenrir and all the horrors that he’s done, and—”

“Do you want me to march to The Daily Prophet and ask to write an article from the perspective of a child-friendly, hopeful werewolf?!”

Sirius ignored him. “You’re angry, and you’re right to be, but not everyone is out to get you. I’m not! But you must agree that Fenrir and a few other dangerous individuals must be caught, and it doesn’t help that people like you run around unregistered. It seems like…” He stopped himself, glancing meaningfully at Remus.

“Seems like what?!”

“Like you’re hiding something.”

Remus barked an incredulous laugh. “I am! My lycanthropy!”

Sirius tutted disdainfully. “No, I mean… if you’re innocent, then—”

“Then why shouldn’t I want to be free?” Remus swallowed harshly, staring Sirius down. His meter was full. He turned on his heel and stormed off, and this time Sirius didn’t stop him.

“Think about it,” he only called, the words echoing around the corridor. “You could help!” 

“I’m never going to help you!” Remus called, not glancing back. “Stop looking for me.” 

Chapter Text

Remus woke up in the morning to muffled voices carrying up the stairs and into the guest room. He had a headache and an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He figured he ought to leave, but there were questions on his mind to which he didn’t know the answers.

Had Sirius already found out about his real identity? Should Remus tell Marlene about last night, and the morning of the full moon? Or was it better to leave her out of it entirely? There was always the risk that Sirius might bribe her for information—yes, it would be safer if she knew what to expect.

Having come to a decision, he rolled out of bed, feeling momentarily dizzy, and pulled on his trousers and a shirt. He packed his backpack haphazardly and slung it over his shoulder, then made his bed with a swish of his wand. Returning to the pack was the right thing to do, even though he would rather have stayed for longer.

He jumped the stairs down two at a time, and when he got to the bottom, he recognised that the voices were coming from the living room. They stopped though, suddenly, and he felt like prey, standing there in the quiet hallway. “Marlene?” he called out, hesitantly.

“Yes, dear?” Marlene responded immediately. “Come in here, it’s alright.”

Remus stalked into the living room and nearly gasped out loud. Out of all things, this was what he’d least expected. Sirius was there, standing beside a clearly oblivious Marlene. He looked tired and uncharacteristically rumpled, but there was a satisfactory smile on his face.

“Morning, Romulus,” Marlene said, briskly. She nodded to Sirius. “This one just randomly showed up. I was just about to call you down.” 

“Yeah…”

“Don’t you look tired,” Sirius remarked, coolly. “Were you out last night?”

Remus clenched his jaw but did not answer. Marlene looked between the two of them and cleared her throat, asking, “Do either of you want coffee?”

“No,” Remus said, slowly, not wanting to be left alone with Sirius. Who knew what he would do? He might kidnap Remus and lock him up in his basement, at least knowing how angry he had been the night prior.

Sirius, on the other hand, smiled. “Why, thank you, Marlene,” he said, glancing furtively at Remus. The bastard. “I wouldn’t mind a cup.”

Marlene clasped her hands together and strode out of the room with a smile on her face. Remus watched her leave, and once she was sure to be gone, he turned to Sirius.

Sirius, who was looking at him with such puzzling serenity that it sent an ominous shiver down Remus’s spine. Remus looked away and dragged his fingers nervously over a crack in the wallpaper. Surely, Sirius wasn’t stupid enough to have a go at him in Marlene’s living room. Right?

“Well, Remus,” Sirius said, “I certainly did hope to find you here. It’s a nice thing you decided to stay.”

Remus looked up, paling. Sirius’s mouth was twisted into a crooked grin. “What—?”

Sirius sighed a contented sigh, taking a leisurely step forward. “See, like you said, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out. I must admit, I did spend most of the night awake doing research, but it was certainly worth it. Romulus Howell, huh? It’s like you wanted to be found out.”

“Took you long enough, still,” Remus muttered. “Did you tell her?”

“Marlene? No, of course not. I don’t see how that’s my problem. I quite fancy the idea of you having to explain all this to her yourself.”

Anger flared up inside Remus. He fixed Sirius with steely eyes. “What do you want?”

“You already know what I want. I want justice.”

“I can’t just hand you justice on a silver platter.”

“But you can give me Fenrir.”

Remus scoffed, scornfully. As if!

Sirius only raised one eyebrow, calmly. “What’s so funny?” he asked, as if he had just requested Remus to hand over the salt. What’s so funny, my arse.

“You’re so naïve. Why would I give you Fenrir?”

“It’s the right thing to do.”

“What’s in it for me?”

Sirius laughed, a cold, detached thing. He shook his head incredulously. “Do you always have to benefit from everything you do? You’ll save a bunch of innocent lives, how’s that?”

“Will you just stop harassing me?!”

“How exactly am I harassing yo—?”

“Coffee!” Marlene called out, brightly, striding back into the room with a full tray floating before her. Sirius took a cup and sipped from it, smiling kindly at her, as if he was an angel fallen from the sky. “Romulus, darling, I made you a cup of tea anyway.”

Remus accepted the mug and set it down on the mantelpiece. His hands were too shaky to hold it.

“Will you tell me already why you’re here?” Marlene asked, impatiently, eyes on Sirius. “Not that I mind you visiting, it’s just that I’ve work in half an hour, and…”

“No reason,” Sirius said dismissively, offering another polite smile. “I was just up early and didn’t have anything to do before work, so… Romulus, have you got a day off?”

Remus clenched his jaw and looked just past Sirius. “Never,” he said.

Sirius smiled brightly and swigged the rest of his coffee. “Thanks, Marls. I should head off – see you soon, eh?” He winked at Remus, kissed Marlene on the cheek, and promptly strode off, leaving the two of them to stare confusedly after him.

“What was that all about?” Marlene wondered aloud. “When are you going to see him?”

Remus crashed down on the sofa and buried his face in his hands, feeling like he might just crumble into pieces.

***

Despite Remus’s many attempts at explaining that he and Marlene would both be better off if he simply returned to his pack right away, Marlene did not let him leave. She listened to his story about the events of last night, and when Remus told her about Sirius knowing his real name, she gasped loudly. “No!” she said, cupping her hands over her mouth. “Remus… But why would he pretend not to—? I don’t understand!”

“I don’t know what he’s planning on doing with the information,” Remus said quietly, already nursing his second cup of tea. Marlene was late for work by half an hour already, but it seemed she wasn’t too concerned. Perhaps she feared Remus might be off the second she left the house. “I might as well be packing my things already and letting Fenrir know that I won’t be coming back… He’ll be thrilled—Sirius, that is—to turn me in to the Ministry.”

Marlene didn’t say anything to this, only gnawed on her lip thoughtfully. Suddenly, her eyebrows furrowed with rage. “I can’t believe he’d be so…” she began, frustratedly. “He’s a good man, I swear, but sometimes he fails to put others before his job. I mean, I get that your name should already be in the registry, but can’t he lay off?! What’s it to him? Hasn’t he got bigger things to worry about? Surely he knows you’re not a bad person!”

“Well, I did deceive him, Marlene. Of course he’s angry with me. And he knows I’m with Fenrir, so…”

“Why did you?” Marlene asked, quite suddenly. “Lead him astray, I mean. I get why you didn’t want him to know about your lycanthropy, of course, but why sleep with him in the first place?”

Remus huffed, running a hand over his face. He was embarrassed. It had been a childish thing, a stupid way of seeking satisfaction. He had naïvely wanted for Sirius to be the clueless one and for himself to be in charge – but had it been all that pleasing, after all? Had he really gained anything from sleeping with Sirius for the sake of it, to feed his own petty heart? What was worse was that in some of those moments they had spent together, scarce as they were, Remus had nearly managed to forget who Sirius really was.

“Remus,” Marlene said, “You do know how stupid it was of you, don’t you?”

“Of course!” Remus exclaimed, sullen. He was feeling foolish as it was – he didn’t need a telling off from Marlene as well. Her disappointment was worse than any other punishment could ever be. On top of it all, there was a dreadful feeling in the pit of his stomach as he thought about his pack. He had never seen himself as a selfish person, but what else was he now?

Marlene sighed, wearily. “You idiot,” she muttered, not too unkindly. She looked up meet his eyes. “I really need to go, they’re expecting me at work. Promise me you’ll be here when I get back? We’ll think about what to do about this later.”

***

Remus did end up staying, though his day was filled with boredom and prickling nerves. Every sound from the driveway outside sent him into a flurry, but even though he reached for his wand every single time, ready to fight, Sirius did not reappear. Remus dared to believe he was off the hook for now.

Dorcas got back before Marlene, still blindly oblivious to everything that had happened. Reluctantly, Remus filled her in on Sirius’s surprise visit early that morning, and the events that had led up to it. It was the least he could do to spare Marlene from having to explain it all to her.

Much later, Marlene got back. The evening was spent in the living room, where the three of them ate dinner and discussed the Sirius thing, and occasionally something else as well. Remus spent every waking second fearing for Sirius’s return, and by the time night had fallen and he was tucking himself into bed, he did not feel the slightest bit reassured. Sirius’s silence was ominous at best.  

***

The following morning, Remus awoke to an annoying, repeated noise coming from somewhere near him. He ignored it for as long as he could, and then opened his eyes to the bright sunlight flooding into the room. He located the source of his uncalled-for wakeup alarm quickly: there was a large owl sitting on the windowsill, pecking impatiently at the glass. Tied to its leg was a neatly rolled piece of parchment.

Remus clambered up and went to let the animal in. It didn’t even look at him, only extended its leg out long enough for him to release the letter, before promptly flying off with an annoyed hoot. Remus watched it go, and when he could no longer see its flapping wings, he glanced at the roll of parchment in his hands. There was no name on it, neither his nor the sender’s. Warily, he started to open it.

The letter was written in perfectly swirling black ink, in handwriting he had certainly seen before.  

To Remus Lupin,

I am yet to tell anyone about
your identity and condition
but shall you not soon turn
up with your tail between your
legs, begging me for mercy, I
will singlehandedly come find
you again and hand you the quill
with which you can write you
name into the Werewolf Registry.

However, I do have a proposal
 for you. I’m expecting you
tomorrow at four pm at
12 Grimmauld Place, Islington.

Kindest regards,
Sirius O. Black

Remus’s heart sunk into his stomach as he read the letter over and over. He was angry—mostly at himself, but at Sirius too—and sure of his doom. Going near Sirius again was the last thing he ought to do, but what would happen if he didn’t? Sirius had all his information now, and no reason to grant him freedom. And then, waiting for Remus somewhere far off, there was Fenrir, who would crush his skull if he ever found out about his escapades.

At breakfast, Remus pulled the letter out of his pocket and slid it across the table, quietly. Marlene pushed her coffee cup out of the way, her eyes flitting over the parchment rapidly. “Remus!” she gasped, looking up at him in alert.

“I know…”

“Oh, my… What’re you going to do?”

“I need to go, don’t I?” Remus shrugged. “Otherwise he’ll have people looking for me, and I don’t know when I’d be able to show my face again. I have to at least go and pretend I’m willing to hear what he has to say.”

Marlene swallowed. “But… Are you sure? It’s so close to the moon and everything… Maybe I should come with you, at least?”

“I really don’t want to drag you into this,” Remus sighed. “Thanks, though. I really appreciate it, I just don’t think it’s wise. He probably wants me to go alone.”

“That’s what makes me nervous…”

Remus smirked weakly. “What, think he’ll lock me up for the moon? You said it yourself, he wouldn’t hurt me. I think he just wants me to drop Fenrir’s coordinates and go mind my own business.”

“But you’re not going to do that.”

“Of course not.”

Marlene threw her hands up elaborately. “Yeah, so what’s your plan? You’re going to refuse his offer, and then what? You think he’ll shake your hand and let you walk out a free man?”

“I haven’t got that far yet…” Remus mumbled, thoughtfully. He ought to come up with a plan of action. He didn’t have much time to waste. “I need you to promise me you won’t talk to him once I’m gone. He’s going to come prying for information, so I just need you to do your best to avoid him. I don’t care how good of a friend he is – he has no right to include you in this mess.”

“I’ve been a part of this mess for years already.”

“Still. Promise me?”

Marlene sighed, reluctantly. “Fine. But I think you’re underestimating me.”

***

The day of the full moon. Remus hated that of all days, Sirius had chosen this particular one to blackmail him into coming to… well, whatever it was that 12 Grimmauld Place hid inside itself. His skin was prickling and the bones beneath it aching; he’d had a budding migraine since yesterday, and it didn’t help that he felt sick at the mere thought of eating anything. And Sirius must have known exactly what day it was. Not for the first time since meeting the Auror, Remus felt a growing bitterness within himself.

The area looked shockingly normal, like an ordinary Muggle borough, with neatly planted trees and perfectly green grass. You wouldn’t have guessed a wizard lived there, even if you knew they existed. Though for all Remus knew, the place might only be part of the Floo network – Sirius probably lived somewhere surrounded by other purebloods. There was no house number twelve either, only eleven and thirteen – between them stood nothing. Suddenly, it all started to feel like a huge hoax.

Crack.

Sirius appeared at Remus’s side, still in his work robes. He smiled pleasantly. “I see you’ve made this easy for both of us.”

Remus didn’t answer. He let himself be guided forth.

They strode toward houses number eleven and thirteen. Just as Remus was about to comment on Sirius’s questionable meeting place, something happened: it was as though the two houses started moving away from each other, revealing a gap between them—except there was no gap. The houses unveiled more brick; windows; a door; and finally, the coppery number 12. Sirius smiled smugly beside him.

“Impressive,” Remus deadpanned.

With a swing of Sirius’s wand, the door flew open. Sirius gestured for Remus to step in first, and so he did, begrudgingly. He had been half ready to not show up after all, but then, he hadn’t wanted to give up so easily. He quite fancied seeing his pack again.  

At first glance, the house looked expensive. Old and haunting. Something a family of pureblood wizards would cherish. It was dark even when Sirius turned the lights on; the place might have looked homey in a picture, but the atmosphere contrasted strongly, making it appear as though from a horror fiction novel.

Remus stepped further in. There were paintings on the walls leading up to the upper floors, and—“Oh my god,” he gasped, before he could stop himself. His mouth grew dry. The walls above him were adorned with mounted house elf heads, nailed to wooden planks, staring at him hauntingly.

“Oh, those,” Sirius drawled, his voice dripping with disdain. “Mhm, dear old maman had a unique sense of interior décor. I’d take them off the bloody walls if she hadn’t charmed them to be stuck there forever.”

Maman. It must have been Sirius’s childhood home, then.

“Are they… They’re not real, are they?”

Sirius huffed a humourless laugh. “Unfortunately, yes. Disgusting, isn’t it?”

Remus felt like throwing up. He tore his eyes off the poor creatures and looked down the corridor instead. There were more paintings there of important, elegant-looking witches and wizards – and luckily no more house elf heads. The corridor was lit dimly by dusty gas lamps on the walls and the floor was covered entirely with beautifully woven carpet.  

Remus glanced over his shoulder. “Do you still have a house elf, then?” he asked conversationally.  

“Yes, but not of my own volition. His name is Kreacher, and we loathe each other. I’d free him right this instant, but he’s so damn attached to this house that he won’t let me. He wouldn’t leave if he were handed the keys to a brand-new mansion.”

“Right… Is this your family home?”

Remus dragged his finger across one painting’s wooden frame. “Take your filthy fingers off me,” the subject of the painting hissed at him, causing him to jump back, terrified. “You blood-traitor—”

“Shut up,” Sirius grumbled, aiming his wand at the frame. A small piece of fabric appeared and draped it entirely, muffling the exasperated cries of the painting. “Yes, it’s my family home. I hate it here, to be honest, but since none of them are alive anymore…” He smiled glumly at Remus.

“Right.”

Sirius led Remus up a flight of stairs and through a door into what must have been the drawing room of the house. There was a sofa and two armchairs, a fireplace that looked abandoned above anything, and ornate cabinets full of books and peculiar steel objects. Like the rest of the drapery in the house, the rugs looked ancient.

Still, everything seemed very well kept – must have been the house elf’s doings. Remus felt sorry for the creature, who probably knew it was going to end up mounted on the wall one day, next to its predecessors. Though, then again, Sirius would hardly continue such harsh traditions, if he was half the man Remus believed him to be.

Remus’s eyes fell on one of the walls, which was covered by tapestry that seemed to portray a family tree. Curiously, he took a step closer and let his eyes wander across the dozens of tiny, painted faces and names written in squiggly handwriting. “Is this your family tree?” he asked, pressing into memory familiar names like Lestrange and Malfoy. Sirius was so very different from the rest of his family.

“Yes,” Sirius said, “it would be exactly that.” His voice came from much closer than Remus had anticipated, and he flinched as Sirius’s breaths grazed his skin. Sirius placed a hand onto his lower back, turning him a little to the side as he pointed at a picture on the tapestry just above their heads. Only, there was no picture. In its place sat a burn mark, like someone had blasted the person out of existence, name and all.

“That’s mine,” Sirius whispered. Remus could hear the cruel smile in his voice. “Mum blasted my name off the second I ran away from home. Little did she know I would be back here after the rest of us Blacks were put six feet under.” He laughed joylessly.

“You… You ran away from home?”

“I did – when I was sixteen. Went to James’s. Best decision of my life.”

“Oh.”

Remus looked at the burnt tapestry. There were another two names that had been blasted off as well, but he didn’t dare ask about them. He felt compassion bubble in his chest, and disdain. He tried to ignore the former feeling, reminding himself that Sirius could well have put together a sob story to gain his sympathy. He wouldn’t put it past him.

Sirius’s hand left his lower back. “It’s the full moon tonight,” he said.

“Yes,” Remus affirmed. “You just couldn’t ask me over any other time, could you?”

“No. It had to be tonight, naturally. Are you feeling alright?”

Remus bit his lip and pressed his eyes shut. No! he wanted to shout, No, you fucking idiot, I’m not feeling alright! The wolf is raging inside me, waiting to be released, and on top of that, I’m at your house and I don’t even hate it! Things couldn’t possibly be worse!

“What do you think?” he gritted, instead.

Sirius hummed absently. When Remus turned to look at him, there was a ghost of a smile on his face. “Do you want tea?” he asked.

“Er… Sure.”

Sirius gestured to an armchair, and Remus sat down and crossed his legs as Sirius left the den. Finally alone, he observed the room around him once more, scrutinising every tiny detail. The interior was old-fashioned, favouring dark wood and deep colours. The cabinet shelves were filled with thick, gold-embroidered books that were covered in dust and looked like they hadn’t been touched for decades. It would have been a beautiful house if it hadn’t held such a creepy undertone.

When Sirius came back some five minutes later, he was bearing a tray in his hands with two cups of tea on it. He handed one to Remus and sat down in the other armchair, setting the tray on the small table between them. Remus watched his composed movements attentively, not wanting to miss any crucial signs of—well, anything. He hardly felt at ease, sitting there in the drawing room of Sirius’s ancient family home, with the man of the hour right in front of him.  

Sirius was quiet as he sipped on his tea, almost absent. Remus lifted his own cup to his lips and took a careful gulp. The liquid was more bitter than what he usually preferred, but he did not say it out loud. Instead, he took another sip and forced it down his throat, then set his cup down on the table.

“Not the best cup of tea, is it?” Sirius asked, smiling lightly.

“No,” Remus said. He hesitated, then picked the cup up again and took another gulp for the sake of it. He shrugged. “It’s drinkable.”

A silence followed. Sirius kept drinking his tea, and, not wanting to be rude, Remus did the same. It wasn’t terrible, but he would still rather have left it alone. He cleared his throat. “You said you had a deal for me? A… a proposal?”  

“All in its time.” Sirius’s voice was calm, stifling. No questions, it implied.

Clink, clink, clink. It was tormenting, really. Terribly awkward. Remus wished Sirius would just get to the point so he could finally leave the house and go and prepare himself for the moon. He still needed to reunite with his pack.

A moment passed, and soon Sirius was standing up, abandoning his teacup. He walked over to the piano in the corner of the room and sat down, stretching his fingers elaborately. He began to play a soft melody, something that Remus didn’t recognise. The sound echoed in the room, and though Sirius played beautifully, Remus only grew more agitated. He wasn’t sure how this had to do with anything – last time it had been Sirius who had said he was tired of playing games.

The song came to a tranquil stop not three minutes later, and, keeping his foot on the pedal for a few more seconds, Sirius turned to glance over his shoulder. He smiled, dropping his gaze to the rug beneath Remus’s feet. “Tell me, Remus,” he said, idly, “Where is your pack staying this full moon?”

Remus looked up, sharply. Sirius’s calm eyes met his, and he tilted his head to one side, waiting. “At Sparrow’s Creek,” Remus found himself saying. The words came out of his mouth, but they didn’t sound his own. It was as if someone had dragged them out of his throat. “There are these old, abandoned castle ruins at the edge of the forest there. That’s where we’ll be.”

He dropped the teacup onto the saucer hard enough for half the liquid to spill over the edges, wetting the white lace tablecloth beneath it. Sirius swung his legs over the piano stool and faced Remus with a smug smile. Remus jumped to his feet, abruptly. “You… You…”

“I’m sorry, Remus,” said Sirius, though he did not sound it. He began to hoist himself up.

“You put Veritaserum in my cup!” Remus growled.

Sirius closed the gap between them with a few funny strides, grasping Remus from the neckline of his shirt, holding their faces close together. “Is Fenrir Greyback behind the Scotland attacks?” he asked, frantically.

“Yes,” Remus said, even as every braincell of his was telling him not to, “Every one of them.”

“Who else?”

“Let—let go of me!” Remus fought against Sirius’s grip, but he seemed to be cornered. He couldn’t apparate, though he couldn’t be blamed for his lack of trying. Of course he couldn’t apparate—not from a house like this, which was probably better protected than the bloody Ministry of Magic itself. He was left to desperately shove the other man away from himself. “Let me go, Sirius!” he spat out.

“Who else?” Sirius asked again, louder. He forced Remus to look into his eyes. “Who else is behind the attacks? Who has helped Fenrir?!”

“Alyna Higgs. Deomiorix Clearwater,” Remus choked out. “Bertha Collin. I don’t know who else.”

Sirius froze in place. He looked to the floor, licking his lips slowly. When he looked back up, Remus couldn’t read the expression on his face. Slowly, he asked, “Remus, have you ever bitten anyone?”

Remus’s heart leapt. He looked deep into Sirius’s grey eyes, clenched his jaw, bit his lip to force himself not to shout. Was this how much Remus’s words weighed to others? Did Sirius really need Veritaserum to confirm everything Remus had told him about his innocence? Had he been a complete fool, trusting Sirius enough to show up today?

“No,” he said, quietly, coldly. Sirius finally released him, his pupils blown wide, his heart beating vigorously. Remus could hear it.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said again. “I had to… I had to.”

Remus stepped back. “Oh, yeah?” he said through a shaky, glum laugh. “You had to, huh? You couldn’t just ask me? You couldn’t just trust my word?!”

“Remus…”

Remus lunged forward and took hold of Sirius’s shoulders, shaking him hysterically. “You can’t follow me, Sirius. You can’t… You can’t come to Sparrow’s Creek! I’m begging you—leave the pack alone!”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Promise me you won’t follow me,” Remus growled, “Promise me!”

Sirius took a step back—though Remus came with him—looking stubborn as ever. He took Remus’s hands into his own and lowered them from his shoulders, then crossed his arms over his chest as he peered at Remus. “I must. I can’t hold this sort of information without doing anything with it – it’s against the law. And my oath. Surely you understand that.”

“You… Fucking hell! You used Veritaserum on me! That’s against the law! You tricked me!”

“Remus, I… This was the only way. Now I never have to doubt—”

“Doubt whether I’ve bitten someone? I don’t know what you’ve been taught about trust, but this,” he gestured angrily to the teacup, “is not it!”

“Fine, yes! I could have gone about it better, but… here! Let me just…” Sirius quickly took Remus’s cup into his hand and made a show of downing every last drop of it. He set the now empty teacup down with a clink and spread his arms wide. “See? We’re even now. You can ask me anything!” He attempted a smile, though all it did was make Remus’s insides boil with pure rage. “I promise to tell the truth.”

Remus stared at him in utter disbelief. “Yeah, okay,” he breathed, stepping into Sirius’s space. “Are you proud of yourself now?” he asked, coldly, and then he was walking out of the room and stomping down the stairs and flying across the corridor, past the ghostly house elves and the numerous ugly portraits. He pushed open the heavy front door and, the second he had stepped onto the concrete stairs, apparated to Marlene’s house.

The next few moments went by in a blur: him running to the front door, yanking it open, and rushing up the stairs into his guest bedroom. Once in the quiet of his own, familiar space, he crashed onto his bed and pressed his face into the pillow, groaning agitatedly. He could hardly comprehend what had happened.

Sirius had used Veritaserum, one of the strongest potions out there, on him, and without so much as feeling an ounce of remorse! He had used it on him because, even after months of Remus claiming his own innocence, Sirius simply couldn’t believe it. And now Remus had exposed Fenrir, Deomeorix, Bertha, and Alyna – and, by not being able to name any more people, the rest of his pack too.

And to crown it all, Sirius knew where they were staying, too.

Suddenly coming to his senses, Remus jumped up and checked the time off the clock on the wall. The moon was still six hours away – that was plenty of time to find a new place to stay. Hurriedly, he grabbed his backpack from the floor—he had been wise enough to pack everything before his trip to Sirius’s house—and threw it over his shoulder before promptly returning the way he had come from. He passed Dorcas in the hallway, but he had no time to stop and chat with her.

“Remus!” she called after him, running to the door to watch as he sprinted down the pathway. “Remus! Get back here!”

“Sorry, Dorcas!” Remus called, turning around to get one final glimpse of her. “I haven’t got time! I’ll see you soon, I promise!”

Ten seconds passed, and he was at Sparrow’s Creek.

Chapter Text

“Lupin! I was starting to get worried.” Fenrir looked up from where he was sitting in front of a writing desk with scratch marks from decades and decades of use. There were scrolls of parchment in front of him, and a few old numbers of The Daily Prophet. He gestured for Remus to come in before promptly returning to his work. What was he doing – plotting his next attack? Reading for leisure? Whatever it was, it seemed important.

Panting, Remus stumbled into the room. He had never run so fast. “I… I came to let you know that we—er—we-have-to-find-another-place.”

“Didn’t catch that,” Fenrir grunted, not bothering to look up.

“I said, we—we have to find another place to stay.”

Fenrir, whose gaze had wandered to the parchment scrolls again, jerked his head up. He frowned curiously. “What do you mean ‘find another place’? Sparrow’s Creek is as good as it gets! I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen a wizard here that wasn’t a werewolf.”

“That’s… that’s exactly it. I, um… I encountered an Auror while I was away. And he… he forced me to spill where we’re staying.”

Fenrir dropped the quill in his hand and rose to his feet menacingly. “What?!” he growled, spit flying everywhere, “You encountered an Auror? And told him where your pack is staying? Told him what you are?!”

“I didn’t!” Remus gushed, “He forced me to—there was nothing I could do! He had Veritaserum, and he knew I was a werewolf and that I’m with you, and now—”

Fenrir strode to him, slamming a humongous hand onto Remus’s shoulder, hard enough for his knees to give in. He managed just barely not to collapse. “Does he know who you are? Did you tell him anything else?!”

“No,” Remus sputtered, “No, that’s everything! But he will be here tonight, I’m sure of it. We need to find somewhere else – maybe Aviemore?”

“We can’t go back to Aviemore, not after the attack.” Fenrir looked to the wall beside him, thoughtfully. “Damn you, Lupin. You ought to be more careful, or else…” He grunted in frustration, brows furrowing as his brain got to work.

“What about Littlemill? It’s been ages since we were last there. Surely it would be a safe option?”

Fenrir bit the inside of his cheek, keeping Remus in suspension. “Fine,” he grunted, finally, “I guess we have no choice. But Lupin… One more mistake and you’re out. I’d rather not get rid of you, but if you’re not careful…”

“It won’t happen again. I swear.”

“Fine. Go inform the others and tell them to pack up. Ten minutes and we’re leaving.”

As expected, the others were not fond of the idea of having to leave the comfort of Sparrow’s Creek. Remus didn’t tell them why they were switching camp; he only said that it was Fenrir’s command.

Altair found him just as they were all preparing to apparate. He had his worn backpack thrown over his shoulder, his shoes hanging off it by the laces. He frowned at Remus’s unpreparedness. “Where are your things?” he asked. “We’re leaving in a couple minutes.”

“I’m coming later. I… I need to take care of something before I can join you.”

Altair raised a dubious eyebrow. “Does Fenrir know?”

“Yes. He—”

“Everybody, let’s go!” Fenrir boomed from some fifty feet away. Half the pack had already gathered around him for instructions on where to apparate to.

Remus offered a faint smile, touching Altair’s arm comfortingly. “You should go. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

***

Much later, when dusk had already arrived and a silent darkness had fallen over Sparrow’s Creek, Remus sat on a mattress in the old castle ruins. His backpack was sitting beside him and, though he still had nearly two hours left until the Moon had fully risen, he was feeling unnervingly fidgety. He got up and paced around the room at least once every five minutes, only to sit back down again and pull on his cuticles. The wolf was restless, he was restless—he was scared. Every movement hurt.

At the mark of an hour and a half left until the moon, he left the fading warmth of the ruins and stepped outside into the dusky forest. He had thought Sirius would arrive at least some hours early to get a hang of the place and spy on the pack, but the minutes were ticking, and he was nowhere to be seen. Remus was starting to get impatient – what if he had already been there when Remus had come to warn the others?

It was only after another ten minutes had passed that Remus got a whiff of Sirius’s ever-so-recognisable scent. He stood up from where he had been sitting down leaning onto a tree trunk and rotated his head around, attempting to locate the direction Sirius was approaching him from. The scent kept getting stronger and stronger, and soon it felt as though Sirius was standing right beside him – but he couldn’t see anything.

“Good evening,” came Sirius’s voice, quietly, right beside his ear. Remus stumbled back, falling onto his arse on the ground. He watched as Sirius appeared above him from thin air. In his hands, he bore a piece of fabric that looked like water flowing down toward the forest bed. He smirked at Remus’s poor state and, despite everything that had happened, offered a hand to pull him up.

Remus refused it and clambered clumsily to his feet. “Piss off,” he snarled. “Where’d you get an Invisibility Cloak from? Or is that part of your usual equipment provided by the Ministry?”

“Being James’s friend has its perks. Are you alone?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Why don’t you pour a potion down my throat, and we’ll find out?”

“Oh, get over it. You had time to get your little posse away from here, didn’t you? No harm done.”

“It’s illegal to use Veritaserum outside of your Auror duties! I would know. I checked, today.”

“Moral over law, Remus. Always.”

“That makes no sense.”

“You make no sense. Well? Where are they?” Sirius smiled slyly, making a show of glancing around. Arsehole.

Remus scoffed. “Fuck off, Black. You knew I’d have warned them by the time you showed up. Why are you here?”

“Remus. You could be with your pack right now in whatever substitute place the lot of you found, which I’m sure you have plenty of. You could’ve not showed up and instead left me to wonder where the hell you are when I quite literally knew you were supposed to be here, yet I’m talking to you now. So, the real question is, why are you here?”

Remus faltered. Yes, of course he could have chosen not to stay in Sparrow’s Creek. He could be in Littlemill with the others right now, but he had thought he would rather face Sirius now, before the moon, and tell him his efforts had proved out to be useless. Remus would’ve taken any chance to rub his victory in Sirius’s face, and he was at his strongest before full moons, anyway.

“I wanted to know if you’d actually show up,” he said, and it wasn’t exactly a lie. Somewhere, deep inside, he had thought that maybe Sirius wouldn’t come after him, after all. That despite knowing where they were supposed to be, he would choose not to make himself present. It was stupid of Remus to have thought he might be so merciful. This was Sirius Black, after all. “I don’t know what I expected. Of course you did.”

Sirius nodded, mutely. He looked almost remorseful. “If I’m being honest, I didn’t expect to find your whole pack here. But I had a feeling I’d find you.”

You came here for me, Remus wanted to say. You came even though you knew I’d be the only one here. Maybe because you knew I’d be the only one here.

“Will you have someone patrol this place every full moon?” Remus asked, quietly. “You owe it to me to at least tell me that.” 

“Probably,” said Sirius with a small smile.

“Shame. This has been my favourite place so far.”

Sirius stepped closer. It was eerily quiet, save for their heavy, shaky breaths. “I shouldn’t have used the potion on you,” he said, voice just above a whisper. “It was a dickhead move. I’m sorry, Remus. But it’s my job to be cautious.”

“This isn’t very cautious of you,” Remus said. “What did you think would come out of it? You should’ve apparated here the second you managed to fish the information out of me. You would’ve succeeded.”

Sirius nodded, cognizant. His breaths curled in the cool air, twirling idly towards the sky. “You’re right. I messed up. See, I would’ve come here right away – that was my original plan. But then… I realised my plan had a flaw in it. You made me realise it. Because you’re right, Remus. I shouldn’t come here and mindlessly ruin the lives of a dozen people. I need to… I need to be more precise.”

“Precise…?”

“If I want to do what’s right—not what the Ministry thinks is right, but what I think is right—then I can’t take freedom away from people like… people like you. I believe you when you say you’re not all bad in your pack.”

Remus was out of breath – be that because of Sirius’s words or the moon sneaking up on him, he couldn’t have known. But he knew he should have been angry. He was angry. But that wasn’t everything he felt.

For the first time in Merlin knew how long, he felt hopeful. Hopeful because, yes, Sirius was only one person, but if Remus had gotten one person to think and act differently… There was still hope for more.

“I need a plan,” Sirius continued. “Something more solid, something fool-proof. Fenrir is my number one target because so far, he’s got the most attacks under his name, and your pack’s been the most… visible. Easiest to track down. Sorry if that offends you, but it’s true.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because, Remus.” Sirius met his eye pleadingly. “I need your help. I need… I need someone on the inside. Someone to give me a location and to pick the good berries from a rotten bunch. Do you get what I’m saying?”

Remus went on to answer—what, he didn’t know—but instead, he hunched forward in pain. He could feel his spine cracking, vertebra by vertebra. He wanted to scream.

“Lupin?” Sirius’s voice had turned concerned. “Is it happening? Are you turning?”

Remus heaved in a deep breath, pressing his palms to his knees as he tried to pull himself together. He could taste bile in his mouth. He wished he could just lie down and let it happen – it was always worse if you fought it.

“I should have time,” he gritted. It took every ounce of energy in his body to straighten up, but he did. He wondered distantly whether Sirius had ever seen a wizard transform into a werewolf. Before he could ask – he thought it might lighten up the mood – Sirius was grasping onto his shoulders.

“I need your help, Remus,” he practically begged. “We’ll do it your way. Play by your rules. Everyone who you want to save… we’ll make that happen.”

Remus felt dizzy. He twisted away from Sirius’s hold, wobbling sideways into a tree. He leaned his forehead against it. The pain was numbing, making him blind, throbbing on his temples and seeming to spread to his brain, to the back of his neck, everywhere. His head twisted to the side, involuntarily.

I was supposed to have time, he thought angrily. It shouldn’t be happening yet.

If only he carried an actual watch on him.

Sirius was watching in panic, hesitating in place like he was trying to decide whether to approach Remus or not. His hand hovered mid-air, frozen. “Go,” Remus choked out, painfully, “It’s happening—Go!”

“But you said—”

“Now! It’s dangerous, Black, fucking go!”

One glance up at the sky told him that the Moon had nearly fully risen already. He clambered away from the tree trunk, away from Sirius, falling back onto the cold grass. The dry pine needles felt prickly against the skin of his palms, but he didn’t have time to think about that. He could feel his skull breaking apart.

“Run,” he breathed, the pain bordering unbearable. It was a miracle he could form words, let alone say them aloud. “Now, Sirius, before I bite your head off! I’m not even joking—”

He could hear his own screams distantly, as if they were coming from the opposite end of the forest. The pain was throbbing, tormenting, and the ground felt like it was swallowing him up. He almost wished it would.

He didn’t have time to check whether Sirius had managed to apparate into safety before his eyes forced shut and his limbs gave in. Pain, pain, pure pain. His body hurt. His intestines hurt. His brain hurt. Every particle in his body was suffering from the pain that he would never get used to but had to always experience again. And again. The horror of being a werewolf lay in the fact that you couldn’t escape it, not even when you grew older and became weaker anyway. It would always haunt you, until you died.

Pain, pain, pain. It was all Remus could feel.

And then it didn’t hurt anymore. Everything looked a bit blurry, felt a little odd. But Remus could hear perfectly well. More than perfectly well. He could hear the leaves rattling a mile away, could smell the squirrel in the next tree over. He lifted his head and inhaled.

The wolf was confused. He smelled no others of his own kind anywhere nearby, and sudden panic arose in his throat. He could hardly remember what it was like to spend a full moon without his pack – that was how long it had been since he was last alone. But he did smell something. Something vaguely familiar, but not in a comforting way. He couldn’t tell if this new smell was dangerous or not. It belonged to someone magical, that was for sure. But when he looked around himself, he saw no wizard. He saw no human.

He only saw a black dog.

The dog surged forward, suddenly, its teeth sinking playfully into the wolf’s side. The wolf went in to return the gesture, nipping the dog’s neck a few times. Almost immediately, the dog was on its back, surrendering. It was submitting to the wolf. He suddenly felt less guarded. This wasn’t a threat – it was a friend.

The wolf padded forward, carefully sniffing the dog that had now gone still, as if frozen in place. Then he jumped a little, licking the dog’s face and wagging his tail. It wasn’t his pack—it was nowhere near his pack—but it was a friend. The territory was familiar to the wolf, and it seemed the black dog wasn’t interested in fighting for it. Instead, it playfought the wolf and kept him company until dawn arrived, not once leaving the wolf’s line of vision. It seemed loyal to the wolf.

At some point, when it was nearing morning, the first signs of Remus’s human brain taking over again appeared in the form of a very real thought: this was Sirius he was running around with. 

Chapter Text

“How are you feeling?”

Sirius was standing in the doorway, just below a loose plank of wood that looked like it might drop at any given second and knock him out. He was clutching a decrepit blanket around his shoulders, and though there was a shadow of a smile on his face, he looked extremely tired. The floorboard creaked under his weight as he stepped further in.

Remus clambered up and pulled his own blanket further up his naked body. He found himself gaping up at the other man. “You’re an Animagus,” he managed to croak out.

Sirius’s smile was composed. “Yes,” he said, stepping closer still. “James and Peter, too. As you know, we went to the same school, all three of us. We thought it would be a fun little project. You know, to pass time.”

“Right,” Remus said, dumbly, “But…”

“You shouldn’t tire your brain with it right now, Remus,” Sirius said, softly. He was now standing right beside the mouldy mattress, and he crouched to wipe a hand across Remus’s feverish forehead. “Do you want water? I should get you some water.” He turned a little, fishing his wand out of his pocket. A glass appeared, and soon it was full of crystal clear, cold water. Remus downed it in one go.

“I suppose being an Animagus comes in handy when you’re an Auror,” he said next, stupidly, as if that was somehow crucial to the conversation. As if there weren’t a million other things he could have been saying to Sirius right then—shouting at his face, as he should’ve been.

Sirius hummed, vaguely. “Yes, you’re right. Though I didn’t go through the lawful process of becoming one. I only signed myself up for the registry after six years, but they don’t know that at the Ministry. It was pretty easy to pull off, really.”

“So, I could march into the Ministry right now and end your career with one sentence?”

Sirius wrinkled his nose. “Well, no. It was years ago, first of all. And they wouldn’t believe you anyway.”

Remus nodded in agreement. Of course they wouldn’t believe him, not against Sirius’s own word.

A thoughtful silence followed. “Why are you still here?” Remus asked then, knowing that that should have been his first question and that it was well past dawn already and this was quite frankly the last place Sirius should be right now. What if Fenrir came looking for Remus? What if the entire pack did?

“It didn’t feel right to leave before you’d woken. You looked fine, but I wanted to make sure you’re actually okay.”

Remus fought the urge to scoff. As if he hadn’t survived numerous full moons in his life, all without the help of Sirius Black and his useless, godlike features and captivating smile. As if this wasn’t his life!

At feeling this newfound irritation—or rather, this re-emerged irritation—Remus suddenly clenched his jaw. He looked at Sirius dignifiedly. “Did you seriously put Veritaserum in my tea yesterday?”

Sirius’s eyes dropped to the ground guiltily. “I, er… I realise now that I shouldn’t have. It’s not like I’m proud of it. It was just the only way I could think of to get something out of you. Something that I didn’t have to second-guess.”  

“Were you even interested in the pack’s whereabouts?” Remus asked, trying hard to keep his voice even. He thought he succeeded quite well, if Sirius’s regretful expression was anything to go by. Good. Let him suffer the consequences of his own actions. “Or was that question just there to soften the landing for ‘have you ever bitten anyone’?”

Sirius faltered. “I—I shouldn’t have asked that, Remus. It was never about me not trusting what you’d told me, though I understand why you must think so. It was a stupid question, but a rather crucial one too. I’m sorry.”

There was not a snowball’s chance in hell that Remus was going to believe him. He didn’t think Sirius would have asked the last question if he’d truly believed in Remus’s innocence. Why rely on Veritaserum if you already knew?

And there it was. Sirius hadn’t known whether Remus had spoken the truth all that time. In fact, he had just confirmed it. Something that I didn’t have to second-guess. It felt like a sharp spike to Remus’s flesh—no, it felt like a full-on spear had been shoved through his hollow chest. It wasn’t like he trusted anything that Sirius said either—not anymore, at least—but nor did he lie and say he did.  

“I’m sorry,” Sirius repeated. His eyes were pleading, and he did sound like he would’ve preferred to take back yesterday’s events. Only, he couldn’t do that. “I don’t know what got into me. I do trust that you’ve never hurt anyone, Remus. I did believe you before yesterday, too. I don’t know why I asked you. Perhaps I just… I don’t know. I can’t…” He hesitated.

“It’s okay,” Remus gritted. “You didn’t trust me, Sirius, nor do you now. That sort of thing doesn’t change overnight.”

“It might,” Sirius said hurriedly. He looked quite desperate, clinging onto Remus’s bare wrist. Remus almost felt sorry for him. Almost. “Last night… What do you remember about last night?”

Remus troubled his brain. Blurry images came to his mind; vague memories of running around in the forest, of chasing the black dog that he had deemed a friend of his. The wolf had been confused at first, of course, but that had soon turned into acceptance, then into excitement. It had been nothing like being with its pack, but that hadn’t mattered to the wolf. Only, it mattered to Remus.

He swallowed. “I remember chasing you. But not because I wanted to hurt you. The wolf… the wolf saw you as a friend. You submitted to me. And I remember running to the far end of the forest and back. You were with me the whole time?” The last phrase sounded like a question—technically, it was a question—but Remus did not need Sirius’s input to know the answer. Sirius had spent the whole night with him, roaming the forest as a dog. With Remus. No. With a werewolf.

Sirius’s smile, when Remus looked up at him, was excited. “I’ve never been in such close proximity with a werewolf—obviously,” he explained, a fire burning in his eyes that made Remus’s whole body fizzle. “And last night… Hell, Remus, it was wonderful! I don’t… I don’t know if you felt it, too. But it was great.”

Remus refused to nod, no matter how much he agreed. He was quite embarrassed, actually, of having had such a good full moon without his pack—of spending it with a literal Auror. Yet still, as he thought about the previous night, something bubbled in his chest. The feeling was bordering excited, though he couldn’t quite grasp it—he only knew he wanted more of it. But that, he couldn’t have.

“I was quite stunned by you,” Sirius admitted.

Remus scoffed. “Never seen a werewolf before? Some Auror, you are.”

“Not one like you, no. You looked so… free.”

“That’s how we are when we’re not forced to stay between four walls.”

“I see that now,” Sirius said, quietly.

Remus’s heart did something funny. He tried to find any sensible words to say, but before he succeeded, he heard a loud bang from somewhere below them. “Remus!” he heard his own name being called, “Remus, are you there?”

Sirius stiffened visibly. “Who—?”

“He’s a friend,” Remus said, hurriedly, “But you better…”

Sirius nodded. He transformed into dog form right in front of Remus’s eyes. It wasn’t exactly what he had had in mind, but it was too late now to say so: Altair was standing in the doorway, looking at him in bafflement. His eyes flicked to Sirius—or rather, the huge black dog in his place, who had now padded to the foot of Remus’s mattress—and he visibly faltered. “Wh—?”

“Don’t ask,” Remus grunted, rubbing a hand over his face. He lifted it to glare in the dog’s direction.

Altair was by his side in a matter of seconds, dropping to his knees. “What happened last night?” he demanded, brows furrowing. “I was worried sick when you didn’t show up!”

“I, um… encountered a few problems. I couldn’t make it in time, and…”

“Were you here the whole night? In Sparrow’s Creek? All alone?”

“Yeah. It was, er, quite horrible. I take it Fenrir’s pissed?”

“To say the least, yeah.”

“Did he send you?”

Altair shook his head. “He specifically told us not to come looking for you. He said you’d find your way to us if you wanted to. He was pretty angry last night, too. Tore up a lot of shit.”

Remus sat up, abruptly. “Not—?”

“No, he didn’t hurt anyone—but a lot of trees were damaged, I’ll tell you that much. And quite a few rabbits. It wasn’t a pretty sight.”

Remus’s stomach rumbled uneasily. His eyes flitted to Sirius, who was watching Altair with intent eyes. Remus wouldn’t have been surprised if he had turned into himself again right there and started questioning Altair. Sirius must have sensed this thought of his, for he turned his big canine eyes on Remus and—Jesus, since when had dogs been able to roll their eyes?

“Do you reckon I’ve got a pack anymore?” he asked nervously, tearing his eyes off Sirius and fixing them on Altair again. The other man shrugged tentatively.

“I don’t know, honestly. He didn’t say he was going to kick you to the curb, but I wouldn’t put it past him. Then again, I think you’re his favourite. I don’t think he’ll let you go so easily.”

“Well, I hope not… I fucked up last night, by not showing up.”

“Yeah, you did. But if you can explain it to him…”

Remus sighed. He wasn’t sure he could. Sure, he could say he had been ambushed again by an Auror and that he hadn’t wanted to put the others at risk, but just how would he explain to Fenrir the reason for him being in Sparrow’s Creek in the first place? He had been the one to warn Fenrir about the risks of staying there. Remus had only told him he had something urgent to take care of and that he would be back well before the full moon. And then he hadn’t come back at all.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Altair said next, his hand brushing Remus’s forehead in much the same way Sirius’s had just ten minutes ago. He cupped Remus’s cheek with his hand, gently, and ran his thumb back and forth across his cheekbone. Sirius barked, then, only once but loudly, and tugged Remus’s blanket down with his teeth—just enough for Remus to flinch and grab onto the fabric, forced to hold onto it for dear life. Then Sirius was trotting out of the room, the nails of his paws clicking against the stone floor. Remus thought he could make out the sound of paws turning into footsteps at the bottom of the staircase, but he heard nothing more. Sirius must have apparated away.

Altair was looking at the door in sheer shock. He scoffed, loudly. “Seriously, where did that dog come from?”

“I don’t know,” Remus muttered offhandedly, “Just showed up here after I’d woken. Do you, erm… Hand me my backpack, will you? I’d like to get dressed.”

Altair complied, reaching for Remus’s backpack at the foot of the mattress. Remus pulled out a pair of trousers and the first t-shirt that happened to find its way into his hand and stood up to pull them on. Altair didn’t necessarily watch him, but he didn’t look away, either. Remus finished dressing quickly, the cold already making his body shiver.

“Are you really okay?” Altair looked concerned.

Remus zipped up his trousers and crouched in front of the man. He felt a little dizzy for a moment but managed to avoid falling onto his arse, and—partly because of his poor post-moon balance, partly because he felt the need to touch Altair—he placed a firm hand on Altair’s shoulder. He dragged his thumb over the skin there.

“I’m just fine,” he whispered. “I’m only nervous about having to face Fenrir. Do you think he’ll be coming here?”

“I doubt it. He said he’s going somewhere to blow off steam, left right after we’d woken. I’ve no idea what he’s up to.”

Remus sighed and rubbed his free hand over his face. He nearly fell again in the process, but Altair’s strong hand saved him. He clutched onto Remus’s arm, worried eyes still set on him.

“I’m sorry,” Remus said, “It’s entirely my fault. His anger, I mean. I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve come back early last night. I… I was too proud for my own good.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did Fenrir tell you why we had to switch camps?” Altair shook his head. Remus nodded, swallowing harshly. “I think you should sit down.”

They sat side by side on the mattress, and Remus explained to Altair everything that had happened the day prior—from him meeting up with Sirius (though he didn’t give out his name) to the Veritaserum ‘incident’, to Remus’s conversation with Fenrir, to him waiting for Sirius in Sparrow’s Creek after the rest of the pack had long since left. He told him not about Sirius’s pleads for help, but that Sirius—or, rather, ‘the Auror’—had held him back until it was too late for him to apparate to the pack without exposing their whereabouts.

Altair listened quietly, the concerned frown on his face deepening, and Remus felt terribly bad for lying to him, but there was no way in the universe that he could tell the truth without putting both himself and Sirius in danger.  

When he was finished, Altair cleared his throat loudly. “That is… quite a story,” he said, calculatedly. He looked at Remus dubiously. “Where exactly did you first meet this unnamed Auror?”

“I, erm… Well, we… See, it was—Please don’t make me tell you. I… It’s a long story. It’s a really, really long and really, really embarrassing story, actually, and as much as I trust you, I don’t think you’d look at me the same if I told you. Please.”

Altair seemed to consider this. Then, after some seconds of silence, he nodded. “Okay. I won’t ask you any more questions. But something is up, Remus, and I’m afraid you’re losing yourself because of it. And I don’t want you to lose yourself. More than that, I don’t want to lose you.” Remus was quiet, and another moment passed before Altair hoisted himself up and said briskly, “Come on, now. Let’s get you back to the pack.”

“If I’m even part of it anymore,” Remus muttered, dreadfully.

“Until you’ve been kicked out by Fenrir, you’re one of us. So, up you get, and wipe that pout off your lips. Alyna caught a deer in the morning—I bet the roast is ready. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

***

Fenrir was indeed not happy when he returned to the pack that evening and saw Remus sitting on a log beside the fire, surrounded by the curious faces of the other pack members. Few of them had dared ask questions, though they all looked like they were dying to know.  

Now, Fenrir strode towards him angrily. He stopped only a few paces from Remus and revealed his teeth threateningly. “Stand up,” he commanded. Remus did, feeling his cheeks turn red under the gazes of every pair of eyes around them. He’d been cold moments earlier, but now the fire felt unbearably hot and stifling beside him. He looked at Fenrir just as the man jabbed his finger forcefully to his chest. “You’ve really been testing my limits lately, Lupin.”

Feeling sick to his stomach, Remus glanced around the clearing furtively before shaking his head at Fenrir. “Not here,” he pleaded.

“Not here?” Fenrir echoed, cruelly. Based on the smile on his face, this was exactly the place he wanted to do it. He felt awfully big compared to Remus now, towering over him like a horse on its hind legs. The air felt heavy and hard to breathe, full of anticipation and fear.

“Please,” Remus said through gritted teeth, “I’d rather talk in private.”

He would rather have not talked at all, but if he had to choose between facing Fenrir alone and getting humiliated in front of everyone, he knew which option he fancied.

Fenrir must have seen right through him, for he smirked triumphantly. Still, instead of opening his mouth, he simply started off toward one of the sheds at the edge of the clearing. Remus followed, but he was immediately stopped by someone yanking him back by the back of his shirt. He turned around to meet Altair’s worried eyes.

“Be careful,” the man whispered.

Remus swallowed, waiting for him to let go, and then went after Fenrir. He didn’t look back, but he knew everyone was following him with their eyes until he ducked into one of the sheds.

He had barely stepped inside when Fenrir already struck. The jab hit him directly in the chin, and he went stumbling into one wall of the small space. A protruding nail pierced through his shirt and scraped the skin of his arm, stinging painfully. Remus hissed as he pressed his hand to the wound. His palm got stained red with his own blood.

“What were you thinking?!” Fenrir boomed, and though the others couldn’t see them, Remus was sure they could hear just perfectly. He looked up into Fenrir’s fiery eyes and felt himself shrink against the wall.

“We’re safe,” he stammered. “I couldn’t come back last night because if I had, someone would have…”

“Someone would have what?!”

“Someone might have followed me.”

Fenrir laughed, a shrill, bone-quaking thing. He seized the front of Remus’s shirt and pulled him upright, spitting in his face, “You’re walking on very thin ice, Remus Lupin. First you showed up at my door last night and told me you’d endangered the whole pack, and then you didn’t come back all night. Do you know what that means? Do you?!”

Remus gasped for breath, and even if he had tried to say something, nothing would have come out. Fenrir pulled him closer to his face.

“That means I should kick your sorry ass out of the pack right now. Do you understand?”

It hurt. Of course, Remus should have expected this. He should have expected to get the boot after his antics, after neglecting his pack more times than Fenrir was even aware of. Yet it still shocked him and made frustrated tears well in his eyes. He forced them back.

“Give me another chance,” he choked, desperately. Begging to Fenrir was his last option, and no matter how much he hated doing it, there simply was no other way. “I promise to do better.”

“You’re not special, Lupin. I know you think you are, but you’re just as pathetic as the rest of them. Why should I give you another chance? Well?!”  

“Because I know too much,” Remus said. He watched the flash of fear in Fenrir’s eyes strike like thunder. It was gone before he could get another glimpse of it, replaced now with rancour. A second passed, and then Fenrir was pushing him against the wall again. Remus’s lungs emptied of air as his back hit the wooden planks behind him.

“You think I wouldn’t kill you, huh?!” Fenrir spat. “You think I’d hesitate for one second if I knew you’d told someone anything about us? You’re a funny one, you are.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Remus gritted. “But I’m asking you to—” He winced as Fenrir tightened his grip, “I’m asking you to reconsider. Please.”

“Beg of me, then,” Fenrir said with a wicked grin. “Get on your knees and beg, Remus Lupin, if you want to stay so badly.”

Remus stared back at him through tear-blurred eyes. It was only then that he registered that another nail was sticking out of the wall, making blood rush down the side of his body with alarming pressure. Fenrir held him there a moment longer, eyes manic, before letting go. As Remus slouched to the dirty flooring, he could practically hear the nail slip out of his skin. He clutched his side, feeling the sickening warmth of fresh blood on his hand. “Please,” he choked out.

Fenrir was standing over him, a looming shadow, and when Remus finally swallowed his pride and looked up, he said, “Pathetic. One chance, Lupin. That’s all you’ve got, and then you’re dead.”

Chapter Text

For the next two months, Remus did not leave Fenrir’s line of vision. It was a conscious choice – he needed to earn his trust back above anything else. He couldn’t afford to make mistakes, were he to stay alive, and the easiest way to ensure his own safety was to stay under the watchful eyes of Fenrir. Besides, walking on eggshells around him was already old hat to Remus at this point – what were a few more months? It would all be forgotten as soon as something more curious happened, and then he could go back to normal. He would earn Fenrir’s trust back, eventually. He simply needed to keep himself out of trouble.

At the present time, though, things were far from what they had used to be. Since the pivotal full moon back in early October, the pack had started acting wary around Remus. He could hardly blame them for it; they must have thought he was unreliable, or at the very least one to keep an eye on. He had, after all, spent a full moon away from the rest of them. None of them talked to him about things heavier than the weather, and though Remus had never exactly looked forward to heart-to-hearts with Alyna, it made him feel more than a little left out. He had Altair and Karina, but even they seemed to be keeping their distance most of the time.

One afternoon, Remus tried to confront Altair about this newfound coldness. It had been going on for weeks already, and for days now, he had attempted to get the man alone somewhere – but it seemed that Altair always had somewhere to be or someone to be with. More often than not, it was Karina – like on this particular day.

Remus found them skinning a rabbit near their camp. They did it by hand, usually, though Remus could not understand why. Personally, he found the act of tearing an animal apart with his bare fingers slightly disturbing, no matter how used he was to living outdoors. Altair and Karina, however, did it expertly, with such preciseness that Remus could only stare in wonder.

The two werewolves stopped talking when they noticed him approaching. Karina waved at him and even offered him a friendly smile, but Altair was too stubborn to even look his way. He merely turned his back on him and pretended not to have noticed his arrival. “Hey,” Remus said meekly as he finally reached them. There was a single unoccupied tree log between Altair and Karina’s, but he dared not sit down. How had their hatred grown so large in size?

“Hello, Remus,” Karina said in her soft voice. She eyed him kindly like she always did—even when it was evident that she would rather have not been talking to him. “How’s it going?” she asked, setting her skinning knife down on the snowy ground. The blood spread, making the area look like a murder scene.

Remus stared down at the knife’s sharp point. Winter was cruel to everyone. “…I’m fine. I was just wondering, er… whether I could talk to Altair?”

At the mention of his name, Altair froze. Still, he did not turn around. It was Karina who spoke instead of him, “Remus… You’ve got to understand.”

“Please,” Remus insisted. “Just five minutes, Altair. That’s all I ask of you. I… miss you.”

Both Remus and Karina watched as Altair slowly nodded his head. Karina turned to Remus and squeezed his arm before promptly walking off, back through the trees and towards their camp. Remus took up her spot on the tree log opposite Altair’s.

“Hey,” he said again, tentatively. His eyes darted to the dark droplets of blood next to his feet. “Altair, I want to be straightforward with you. I don’t know what’s happened, but it’s clear you’re avoiding me.”

Altair lifted his head and looked Remus in the eye. The forest chose that moment to remain absolutely silent. “I’m not avoiding you,” the other man said at last. Somehow, it made Remus’s veins fill with rage.

“Yes, you are!” he insisted. “You won’t even look my way!”

“Nothing’s happened!”

“Talk to me, Altair,” Remus cried, standing up. He took a wobbly step towards Altair, who in turn tried to lean further away.

“Don’t,” he choked, clambering up as well. The log he had been sitting on tumbled to the ground. “Please don’t make this any harder than it already is, Remus.”

Remus frowned. “Have I done something? Tell me, please!” Standing closer now, he could see the dark rims around Altair’s eyes, and the way his shoulders had sagged. It was as if Remus could see him properly for the first time in weeks.

“They talk,” Altair croaked finally. His hands were trembling. “They talk about you, Remus.”

“Who do?” Remus asked, holding his breath. He took a step forward and was relieved to find that Altair didn’t retreat from him. “It’s ok, Altair… You can tell me.”

“Everyone,” Altair said. “They’re saying things about you—That you’re… Remus, they think you’re betraying us.”

Bile rose up Remus’s throat, the nasty taste lingering in his mouth. It was a miracle he managed to keep it inside; he wanted to throw his guts up. “I’m not… What? Do they really think that?” he asked.

Altair nodded quietly. “Some of them do. I suppose it’s mostly because of things that Fenrir has said. And, you know… You have been gone a lot. You even missed a full moon! And I don’t want to believe them, Remus, I want to trust you, but… the pack is all I have. I’ve been afraid that if I spend all my time with you, they’re going to think I’m double-crossing them too. And I can’t get kicked out—I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“So that’s why everyone’s been acting so weird.”

“They’re just trying to be careful. We all are.”

“Why won’t Fenrir just kick me out, then?”

“I guess he’s not so sure of himself. Or then he doesn’t feel threatened. If he suspects you, then he must think he’s got an advantage over you.”

“Has everyone stopped trusting me?”

“No!” Altair exclaimed. “I haven’t, nor has Karina! I talked to Seb the other day and he said that he doesn’t think you’d do anything, either. It’s more about how Fenrir sees us—you know, who we associate with. No one really trusts anyone. It’s because of the war…”  

Altair’s words did little to console Remus. He sighed wearily and sat down on the tree log again. He couldn’t even look at Altair; he felt ashamed and angry.

“I’m sorry that I’ve left you out,” Altair said. He crouched down beside Remus and placed a hand on his knee. “I just thought it would be easier to pretend that you and I weren’t talking. I knew it was selfish, but I didn’t want anyone to start suspecting me too…”

“It’s—it’s fine, Altair. I understand. I just thought I’d done something, and that you were angry at me.”

Altair sniffed. He turned to look at Remus with a sad smile. “I’m so sorry. The stakes are just so high.”

“I understand.”

Neither of them spoke a word for the next five minutes. Remus played back in his head all the moments in which he had fucked up. There were so many of them; most of them included Sirius, but none of them were necessarily Sirius’s fault. Truly, everything that had happened, had happened because of Remus’s own poor choices.

“Be honest with me, Remus?” Altair said, then. Remus nodded, pushing his hands in his pockets. The cold air was starting to get to him, seeping into his bones with the intention of never leaving. He wished he could return indoors. “You told me once, after our trip to London, that you’d slept with an Auror. And then, not long after that, we were ambushed by an Auror right after a full moon. Were these the same person?”

“I…” It took all of Remus’s courage, but in the end, he managed to say, “Yes.”

“And is he this Sirius Black bloke who’d left you that letter in the pub?”

Slowly, Remus turned to face Altair. He knew his eyes were telling the truth already, but nonetheless, he seized the other man’s arm and said, “Altair, you can’t tell anyone.”

Altair pressed his eyes shut and sighed. “Remus… What have you got yourself into?”

“He won’t hurt me,” Remus said, desperately. “I know this is bad, but Sirius isn’t going to turn me in!”

“How can you know?” Altair asked. He shook his head at Remus. “He’s an Auror. He might be using you. You’ve got to stop playing around!”

“He thinks I’ll help him if he’s persistent enough. But he’s not a bad person.”

“Our definition of a bad person is different than that of normal people.”

“Don’t,” Remus said. “I know you’re afraid, but think about all those people Fenrir has hurt over the past however many years! And so many people have pretended to try and do something about it, but Sirius…”

“This sounds an awful lot like you’re working with him.”

It was Altair’s tone that made Remus look up abruptly. His eyes were as cold as the undertone of his voice.

Remus had sworn to himself once, many years ago, that he would keep Altair safe, no matter what. To now be the person who had endangered him felt like the worst type of betrayal. He loathed himself for it. “I told him I won’t,” he whispered. His breaths rose in the frozen air, finally disappearing into nothingness. “I said I couldn’t do that to you. But you can’t argue me when I say that something must be done to stop—”

“Stop it! Can’t you hear yourself?! You’ve already betrayed us!” Altair spat, angrily.

Remus lunged forward and covered Altair’s mouth with his palm, hissing, “Keep it down! Do you want everyone on my tail?!”

Altair shoved him away. “I read one of Fenrir’s Daily Prophets from a while back,” he said, lowly. “It said quite clearly that the former head of the Werewolf Capture Unit had chosen to resign.”

“Altair…”

“I take it you know who’s been carrying that title for the past half a year?”

Remus looked away. He had trapped himself now; run to a dead end with no escape. “You sicken me,” Altair spat menacingly.

“Please—”

“You know, when you told me you’d slept with an Auror… I thought, ‘Shit, that could’ve gone badly. At least he knows better than to make the same mistake twice.’” He tilted his head with a disappointed smile on his face. It made Remus’s insides twist violently. “How wrong I was.”

“Please, listen to me!” Remus begged. “You asked me once whether I’d stay with you if something were to happen to Fenrir! You said you thought he was a terrible person and that something must be done about it, that you sometimes felt that him being bad also made you bad. But you’re not bad, Altair. Not in there!” He reached forward to touch his hand to Altair’s chest, but the man flinched back before he could. Remus stumbled forward a step and struggled to catch himself.

“So much has changed since then,” Altair said, coldly.

“You’re not a bad person. I know you’re not.”

“Maybe not, but I’ve realised that I can’t save everyone. If I ever want to live a remotely happy life… We can’t do it all, Remus. Sometimes you have to choose between what might hurt others and what is going to destroy you. Maybe I’m not selfless enough to choose what you would.”

Remus’s heart sank. “This isn’t you,” he whispered. “I know you want to do the right thing, and allowing Fenrir to do whatever he wishes… That’s not good for anyone.”

“No, Remus! Actually, this isn’t you,” Altair returned. “The Remus I know understands why some people act horribly. He knows their pain because their pain is also his! But this Remus, the one you’ve apparently become…” He gestured to Remus loathingly. “I know you’d love to be the hero here, and I admire you for it, I really do. But I’m begging you to think about us too. Think about your pack, Remus. For many of us, it’s the only reason we’re alive.”

“I told you,” Remus said, weakly, “I didn’t take up Sirius’s offer. I… I would never hurt you.”

“Why am I any different from the others?”

“Because you are! You’re good, Altair, and I love you, which is why I would hate to see you give up who you really are. Being part of Fenrir’s pack doesn’t define you, but… surely you still think he’s got to be stopped from doing any more harm?”

Altair ducked his head. For some moments, the forest around them fell quiet again. Then he muttered, quietly, “It’s not like I want to see other people’s lives get ruined.”

“I didn’t say you do. Only, the war is progressing. I wish we didn’t have to choose a side, but… if it comes to it, I know the side Fenrir is going to pick won’t be the one I will.”

Altair heaved in a deep breath. It took a moment, but then he trained his eyes on Remus and sighed. “Are you leaving or not?”

Remus shook his head. “Not for now, at least. But I can’t promise you I won’t reconsider it if we get dragged to Voldemort’s side.”

“Okay.”

“And I wish you’ll do the same. Consider it, I mean.”

Altair cleared his throat, shrugging weakly. “I’ll think about it.”

They hovered in place, at an arm’s length from each other. Karina had reappeared in the clearing and was standing a hundred feet to Remus’s right, waiting for a signal that it was okay for her to return. Altair was the first to step back.

“Don’t hate me,” Remus pleaded.

Altair smiled wanly. “How could I ever? I’ll always love you, Remus, no matter what.”

“Okay,” Remus breathed. He was counting on it. He stepped back too. “Okay. Thank you.”

“And Remus,” Altair said, voice much more formal now, “I don’t know if… It still can’t be the way it used to between us. Not around the pack… If you know what I mean.”

Remus nodded. “I know,” he said, though it hurt terribly. “You do what you have to.”

***

The transformation that night was bad. The wolf must have sensed that its pack was not treating it accordingly, for it spent the night confused and lost. The other wolves kept circling him, snapping their teeth warningly, and, by the time dawn arrived, it was a relief for Remus to turn into a human again. Much like transforming into a werewolf had, turning back caused him more discomfort than usual. He thought he might have broken a rib in the process, and even lifting his head left him in numbing pain.

With much effort, he managed to drag himself into one of the sheds. It was a cold morning; he padded across the snowy clearing, leaving footprints on the forest bed. Once he was inside, he lit a fire and got dressed, curling onto a mattress to sleep away the discomfort.

Despite having promised he would continue keeping his distance, Altair found his way to Remus hours later, when they had woken up for the second time that day. He sat down next to Remus on the shed’s floor, where the fire was still trying to persevere. “How are you feeling?” he asked. The words came clumsily, like someone had forced him to say them.

“Tired,” Remus replied, feeling miserable. “Alone.”

Altair shook his head and whispered, “You’re not alone.”

Remus sighed, dropping his gaze. “Yeah, I am,” he said. He had never thought it possible to feel so lonely while simultaneously being surrounded by people of his own kind. Trust was a funny thing.

“Everyone’s just so on edge all the time,” Altair said comfortingly. “They’ll forget about it soon enough.”

Remus straightened up and looked at him bitterly. “It’s not their silence that bugs me,” he gritted. “When have I ever cared about what Alyna and Bertha think of me?! It’s your indifference that hurts the most!”

Altair scooted towards him and lay a gentle hand on his cheek. They kissed, briefly. There was no emotion—Remus didn’t even bother closing his eyes. When Altair pulled away to look at him again, Remus shook his head. “Don’t,” he said. “Please.”

“I can’t keep myself away from you anymore, Remus,” Altair muttered. His cheeks had turned red with embarrassment, but his eyes still looked just as sad. “It’s hard.”

Remus didn’t yield. It all felt very unfair. “No one’s forcing you to.”

“Come on a walk with me? Let’s talk.”

“I can’t,” Remus lied. “I’m going to go visit Marlene. I’ve been meaning to since… forever.”

It had not been his primary plan, but the constant presence of the pack was suffocating Remus. He had never missed his friend more than he did now, and he knew that Marlene would be just as happy to see him too. Besides, Christmas was approaching, and though they had not agreed on anything, Remus had a feeling he was expected at Marlene and Dorcas’s house for the occasion. He knew they wouldn’t turn him down in any case, though for the first time since he was first bitten, Remus wasn’t sure he truly had anyone.

“Oh,” Altair said, disappointed. “Right… Of course.”

Remus stood up and sniffed. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

Altair did not look at him again.

***

No one came to open the door when he knocked.

The lights were off inside the house, and after knocking five times without so much as an answer, Remus let himself in with the spare key. He usually wasn’t one to intrude in other people’s homes, but he was desperate to see his friends. He could wait for their return.

Marlene and Dorcas had already decorated their home for the upcoming holiday; twinkling Christmas lights were hanging on every wall, and a grand tree stood in the corner of the living room. The whole house smelled of cinnamon, and if Remus had been feeling lonely that morning, it was nothing compared to how he was feeling now. He kept hoping Marlene would appear from the kitchen and welcome him in warmly.

Knowing no one was home, Remus sauntered toward the den. On the way there, he glanced in the direction of the kitchen and nearly screamed. “Jesus!” he hissed, clutching his chest. His other hand was already curling around his wand, ready to pull it out.

“It’s just me,” Sirius said as he clung himself up from a chair. He smiled slyly. “You’re not dead, Remus. Don’t worry.”

“I could be, with the way you nearly scared me to death,” Remus gritted. “What’re you doing here? Where’s Marlene?!”

“She and Dorcas are out of town,” Sirius explained, calmly. “I was asked for plant watering duty.”

“There are spells for that.” 

Sirius ignored him. He stepped closer and let his eyes rake over Remus. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Perfect. Why are you here? Were you waiting for me?”

“You’ve been hiding again, Remus.”

Remus tutted. “I haven’t been hiding—I’ve been gaining Fenrir’s trust back. After that full moon in October… He was angry. He nearly gave me the boot.”

“But he didn’t.”

“I’m seriously starting to think you’ve kidnapped Dorcas and Marlene and tied them up in the basement.”

“Hilarious, Remus. They really are away for Christmas. But if you must know, then yes, I was hoping to bump into you here.”

“Why? There was no attack last moon.”

“Yes, there was – not by your pack, but two attacks were reported last night, both in Wales.”

“Shouldn’t you be there?”

“Oh, I was. We already caught three of the people involved. Does the name Gwyneth Hastings ring a bell?”

Remus swallowed. “Maybe,” he said, warily. “I haven’t heard of her in years.”

“Well, she and two of her accomplices are now in Azkaban, and they won’t be getting out any time soon. And we’ve already got a whiff of who was behind the other attack.”

Remus raised one dubious eyebrow. As he stared into Sirius’s content eyes, he felt the familiar sense of anger prickle beneath his skin. “I still don’t know why you needed to see me,” he said.

“Because I need a favour,” Sirius replied.

“If this favour includes the words ‘Fenrir’ and ‘information’, then I don’t want to hear it.”

“It doesn’t, but it does include the words ‘Greyback’ and ‘imprisonment’.”

“Are you done?” Remus snarled. “I might as well get back if Marlene isn’t going to show up here.”

“Think about it!” Sirius insisted. “Getting Fenrir behind bars is crucial! It would be a huge step for us—!”

“Who’s us, Sirius?! You and your mates at the Ministry? You know, I bet you would love me doing all the work for you! It would be easy, wouldn’t it?”

“I’m not asking you to do the work for me,” Sirius said impatiently, “I’m asking you to do it with me!”

“There are other werewolves out there, you know? Other packs!”

“We’ve been over this. The packs that we encountered during the last full moon… Nothing hinted that they were acting under Voldemort’s command. They were working on their own.”

“And you have proof that Fenrir is with Voldemort?”

“Nothing concrete, but there are signs that heavily suggest it.”

“Like?”

“He’s been seen hanging out with Voldemort’s known acquaintances in Knockturn Alley on more than one occasion over the past two months. Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy, and so forth. We’ve managed to highjack some letters, and Fenrir’s name has popped up quite frequently. And dear old Gwyneth… She was eager to talk. Thought we’d let her go if she did—which we of course would never have even considered. Anyhow, she said she had heard about a plan.”

“A plan,” Remus repeated. If Sirius thought he knew anything about any plan, then he was grandly mistaken. As if Fenrir would trust him enough to tell him!

Sirius nodded carefully. “A plan to go through with a mass attack, planned by Voldemort and conducted by…” He waited with his mouth open, but Remus wouldn’t provide him with the answer. “Fenrir,” he finished, himself. “Conducted by Fenrir. Do you know anything about it?”

“No!” Remus gushed, angrily, “No, Jesus Christ, of course I don’t! Look, Sirius, I don’t know how reliable your source is—I personally don’t find Gwyneth Hastings the epitome of honesty—but I don’t know what you want me to do! The pack is already avoiding me because they suspect I’m turning my coat, and Altair knows that it’s you who’s been trailing us, and Merlin knows what they would do if they found out that I didn’t spend that full moon at Sparrow’s Creek alone but instead with a fucking Auror!”

“You didn’t spend the full moon with an Auror,” Sirius mumbled.

Remus halted. “What do you mean?” he snapped. He had long since grown tired of Sirius’s dumb riddles. “You were there, remember?”

“You didn’t spend the full moon with an Auror,” Sirius repeated, “You spent it with me. Do you think an Auror would’ve left the morning after and pretended nothing had happened?”

Remus blinked, dumbfounded. “You’re still an Auror, Sirius,” he said.

“No, but—” Sirius huffed impatiently, “No, what I mean is… I’m talking to you right now, right? Not a werewolf! Because there’s more to you than being a dar—a werewolf.”

Remus had to resist a laugh. Some people never ceased to surprise you. “Did you read a book on how to talk to half-humans?” he asked, incredulously.

“No!” Sirius cried out, “No, I—of course not!” 

“You did!” Remus gasped, now allowing himself to laugh. He watched Sirius’s cheeks turn red.

“Of course I did not read a book on how to… Remus, I’m just trying to—to understand! It shouldn’t be like this—like we’re always on opposite sides. I chose to spend that night with you in the forest! If I’d only thought of what an Auror would do in that situation… Hell, I wouldn’t have been there in the first place!”

“I think we’re past pretending that this is anything more than you and I looking to benefit from each other. You want Fenrir behind bars, and I want… bloody hell, not anything you can give me.”

“I’ve more power now,” Sirius insisted. “I’m the head of the Werewolf Capture Unit, for fuck’s sake—”

“No need to remind me of that…”

“—and I will make a difference!”

Remus pressed his mouth shut. He respected Sirius’s unfailing resilience, he truly did, but he also thought he was being childishly optimistic. Remus didn’t see a future in which werewolves would be treated as the humans they were. The world simply didn’t work like that. He had long since accepted his fate, though not being accepted by others never got any easier. “I have to be honest with you, Sirius,” he said. “I’m grateful that you’re willing to try and help us, but… don’t you think this is a bit of a hopeless battle?”

Sirius looked at him with steely eyes. “Remus, you don’t understand. People have been bitten—or killed—during every full moon for the past year and a half. And I know your pack isn’t responsible for all of them, but… most of these attacks have been tracked back to Scotland. Most of them have been tracked to Fenrir.”

“I cannot do anything about it,” Remus said. “Fenrir won’t listen to any of us. Do you seriously think I haven’t tried telling him a million times to stop attacking innocent people? Innocent children?”

“You can tell me where he is,” Sirius whispered, his hand curling desperately into the front of Remus’s shirt. “Please, Remus. I swear I’m not out to get you. I need your help. We must get Greyback into Azkaban before he does any more harm. We can’t lose any more children to him.”

“But you can’t do that, Sirius. Not by yourself. Even if I did help you catch Fenrir, how would you ever be able to convince anyone to let a bunch of unregistered werewolves slip? How would you explain where you’re getting all your information from?”

“I’ll find a way,” Sirius insisted. “I’ve got Lily and James, and—and others, too, who I’m sure will help. And all we really need is a good plan, and—”

“Sirius, I don’t know if… There’s so much that could go wrong. If your plan fails and Fenrir finds out someone was trying to double-cross him… he’ll kill everyone in sight. I’m not joking.”

Sirius slid his hands to rest on Remus’s shoulders. He had never looked graver. “That’s why I need you – to help me plan it. You know him better than anyone, probably. You’re the only one who can help me.”

Remus shifted, uncomfortable under Sirius’s touch. His hands on Remus’s shoulders felt like guilt, weighing him towards the hard floor. “Sirius, the pack… it’s my family. I already told you, I can’t help you.”

“I need you.”

“No, Sirius,” Remus said, wringing himself free. “You can’t ask me to do this.”

“What if the plan about the mass attack really is true? What if, during the next full moon, dozens of kids get bitten? How are you going to live with yourself, knowing that you could have saved them?”

“Those are some strong what ifs,” Remus said. “And I have a few of my own: What if all this time, you’ve been pulling me on? What if, when I reveal to you Fenrir’s whereabouts, you lock me up too? What if your plan goes wrong—what if something terrible happens?”

“Something terrible has already happened!” Sirius cried. “Hundreds of times! You’re living proof, Remus!”

Remus looked away. It wasn’t fair of Sirius, putting him in a position where any choice he made would be the wrong one. It was inevitable that he would be the bad guy in all of this, no matter how it turned out.

“Think of yourself,” Sirius whispered, “twenty years ago. If someone had had the balls to stand up to Fenrir then… You and I wouldn’t be having this conversation. You would be living a normal, healthy life somewhere. You wouldn’t have to worry about the things you do now. And think of yourself twenty years from now, when those children who have got bitten lately will be your age now and show up in your life, and you’ll know that if you had only done something in order to stop Fe—”

“Stop it!” Remus growled, stepping away in fury. “Stop it, Sirius! You don’t know anything! What would you do, faced with the choice between your family and people you’re likely never going to see? I know it’s unjust, but so is everything else in life! And stopping Fenrir won’t end all evil! There are others out there who are twice as cruel as he is!”

“Of course, there are,” Sirius said. “But every small victory I can have, I will pursue!” 

The air between them felt stifling. If only things were as simple in Remus’s life as they were in Sirius’s. The choice wouldn’t be hard for him either, were he in the position Sirius was in right now. But, as it was, the two of them couldn’t have been any more different.

Remus stepped back, making Sirius’s shoulders slump. “I can’t do this,” he said. Then, stomping out of the door, he left Sirius to stand there hopelessly.

Chapter Text

“A beer, please.” Remus slammed four sickles onto the counter, one of them rolling along the surface until Tom cupped his hand over it. He scowled at Remus, stuffing the coins in his pocket.

“What’s up your arse, eh?” he asked, waving his wand. A pint appeared in front of Remus, and he reached for it to take a gulp. He was in a sour mood; not even the Christmas decorations the bartender had put up seemed to cheer him up.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “Bad day.”

“Aren’t they all?” Tom smiled darkly. “Nah, I’m just playing. Well? Care to spill it, Lupin? Did someone dump you or what?”

“No, thank you very much,” Remus scoffed. “It’s just… people sticking their noses where they shouldn’t. It pisses me off.”

“Well, I can tell you that that won’t go away with age… No, someone’s always got to be nosy. Well, are you staying the night?”

Remus twirled his beer glass around, considering. He had counted on Marlene and Dorcas being home, but he couldn’t be sure when they would return. It seemed they had chosen to spend the holidays someplace else, and though Remus had asked her not to get in touch with him, he felt slightly betrayed for having been left out. Spending Christmas alone at the inn didn’t sound too appealing. He ought to return to his pack, but he didn’t think he could bear having Altair on his heels at all times. Perhaps they both just needed time to cool off—they would find their way back to each other eventually. So, all things considered, maybe celebrating Christmas in the woods was his best option, though he would have done anything for a homecooked meal courtesy of Marlene.

He was jostled out of his daydream by Tom, who was jangling a keychain directly in front of his face. Remus breathed out in defeat. “Yeah, go on, then,” he said, snatching the key from the bartender. Christmas was still a few days away—he could spend a couple of nights at the inn and return to his pack for the holiday with a clear mind. He flashed Tom an apologetic smile. “I’ll pay my last stay soon…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tom grunted, waving him off with a hand as he turned to serve a customer who had just walked in. It was an old lady with a skunk’s fur draped around her neck like a trophy. Looking over his shoulder at him, the innkeeper added, “I’ll have your guts for garters if you don’t, and you know it.”

Remus huffed a laugh, looking down at his drink. A breeze slipped inside the pub as another person walked in; Remus shivered, pulling his coat on tighter. Though it wasn’t a particularly cold day for December, even his toes went frigid in his boots. His mind wandered back to the pack. He felt sorry now for having had a go at Altair, but then, he was the one who had to bear everyone’s blame on his shoulders – and for what? Surely someone had missed a full moon with their pack before! Was it worse a sin than killing someone?

Tom sauntered back over and flicked his wand at Remus’s empty pint, making it disappear. He glanced at the doorway. “Nice day out,” he mumbled, offhandedly. Another beer appeared on the counter in front of Remus.

“Sunny, yes,” he agreed. “Not a fan of the wind.”

“Eh, it’s alright. Keeps pushing people in.” Tom revealed his slightly crooked teeth in what seemed to be a grin. Remus chuckled, shaking his head as he gulped from his pint. The door opened again with a chime, letting in yet another gust of cold wind. Remus was starting to fantasise about a warm shower, but his train of thought was cut short by a figure appearing in his peripheral. He turned slowly to meet a pair of furious, shockingly green eyes.

“Lily,” he breathed out weakly, before clambering to his feet like his seat had caught on fire. “Wh—What are you doing here?” 

To his surprise, Lily slapped him hard on the cheek. He let out a pained oof, turning to look at her in bafflement. “What was that for?!” he gushed, wounded, though he did have some idea.

Lily swept a strand of hair behind her ear, looking slightly flushed. “Been wanting to do that ever since Sirius told us,” she said breathily.

“Ah,” Remus found himself replying. He ought to have expected this, what with Sirius’s loyalty to his friends and the size of his mouth. Remus rubbed his sore cheek. “Er… So, you know?”

“Yes, I know!” Lily barked. “God! How did you do it?! I could hardly believe it when I heard!” She seemed offended, peering at Remus with folded arms. He thought she looked a bit terrifying. “And to think me and James thought you were wonderful… And Marlene! She’s never said a word about what you are!”

Remus blinked at her helplessly. “Er…” he said, gesturing to a barstool. “Why don’t we sit down and talk?”

***

“So, you don’t really work at Gringotts?”

“Have you not spoken to Marlene?”

“Well, very briefly. She knows we know – gave her a right telling off, obviously. I mean… because of her lying to us, not because of you being…” Lily bit her lip guiltily. “Listen, I know James and I were kind of harsh back when we first met you. It can’t have been easy to listen to all that talk about… Anyway, we didn’t know, of course, and it’s not like we think that about every werewolf out there. Just Greyback and those alike him. You understand, don’t you? We never meant to be insensitive!”

“You couldn’t have known,” Remus shrugged. He had been angry, of course, but it was ages ago now. He had plenty of other things to worry about.

“Still. I feel terrible.” Tentatively, Lily touched his arm. It was a sweet gesture, and despite their earlier not-so-smooth interactions, Remus found he didn’t mind. At least she no longer looked like she wanted to bite his head off, which must have been a good thing. “You really felt you had to come up with a fake name?”

Remus shrugged. “I thought I couldn’t be too cautious. And, I mean… I really tried to be, and look where that got me.”

“And Gringotts…?”

“It was a lie, too.”

Lily huffed loudly. “Bloody hell…”

“I’m sorry! I felt bad lying to you, I really did, and Marlene even more so, but… it had to be done. I couldn’t have known what you would’ve thought of me if you had known—what you would’ve done.”

“Goodness… It can’t be easy for you.”

Remus was halfway to opening his mouth when Tom reappeared in front of them, looking around sourly. “Pub’s filling up. Order something or find another place to chitchat.”

Remus tutted. “Two Butterbeers, Tom, thank you,” he said. Tom winked at him and turned away again, snapping his fingers. Lily gave Remus a pained smile as she took a sip of her drink.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ambush you like I did. I just wanted to talk to you, and I knew you’re used to spending time here, and—”

“It’s okay,” Remus cut her off. “I’m quite relieved, actually. I didn’t expect you to be so nice about all this. You know, because of my history with Fenrir and all that.”

Lily choked on her Butterbeer and flinched away when Remus reached out to pat her back. “Sorry, did you say Fenrir? As in Fenrir Greyback?!”

Oh. Remus gaped, shrinking back in his stool. “Sirius… He hasn’t told you.”

Lily gaped back at him, but Remus knew she wasn’t stupid – she must have connected the dots already. He waited to get slapped again; he knew he would have deserved it. “Let me get this straight,” Lily began, sounding furious, “You’re in Greyback’s pack?”

He knew that whatever lie he might try and feed her now, she wouldn’t believe. All he could do was nod.

“Really, Remus? Greyback?! I shouldn’t be surprised Sirius just forgot to mention that little detail!”

“I know it sounds bad…”

“Bad? Remus, he’s a murderer! A—a child predator! How can you look past something like that?!”

“Oi! Keep it down, will you?!” Remus snapped, looking around hastily. They were in broad daylight, for Merlin’s sake. He lowered his voice and leaned in to mutter, “Besides, you don’t know the half of it…”

“Remus, you being a werewolf doesn’t change a thing—really, it doesn’t. But Fenrir… Merlin! How on Earth did you end up with him?! The two of you couldn’t possibly be any more different!”

“We really have more in common than you think.”

“Well… In the biological sense, yeah, maybe, but… You’re not a horrible person, Remus, I just know it. But you know that Fenrir is. Everybody knows that!”

“I know! I’ve had this talk with Sirius already, okay? It’s not like I go around parading him or anything! I just happen to have been bitten by him, and…”

“Don’t you dare tell me you didn’t have a choice.”

“A choice…?”

“You joined him, did you not?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“All these years, you’ve been with him? Really?”

“Look, if you’re going to try and guilt me into turning my back on him, then you might as well not bother, because Sirius has quite persistently—”

“But Remus! How could you?!”

Remus buried his face in his hands and groaned, fighting the sudden urge to shout and storm out. Every time he thought someone might not think he was a bad person… “Listen,” he said, not nearly as calmly as he wanted to, “I know, all right? But I haven’t done anything! I’m with Fenrir because for years, the pack is all I have had. I don’t like Fenrir or share his ideas of right and wrong, but I don’t know what you lot want me to do!”

Lily’s mouth was pressed into a thin line. For a moment, Remus had forgotten they were still in the pub. He looked around himself now, nervously, but it didn’t seem anyone had paid much attention to his outburst. He suddenly felt very anxious, sitting there in a busy pub while getting interrogated by Lily. With wizards, you never knew who was listening – the Minister of Magic himself might have been around!

He turned back to his companion begrudgingly. Lily still wasn’t speaking; she looked more like she might actually explode. Remus cleared his throat. “You said you shouldn’t have been surprised about Sirius not telling you about me and… Fenrir,” he said, carefully. “Why’s that?”

Lily heaved in a deep breath, correcting her posture dignifiedly. “Well, he does have a thing for the dangerous, doesn’t he? He’s been like that since school—probably even before.”

Remus frowned. “So, you’re saying he’s doing all this because it’s exciting to him? You think he wants to work with me for the thrill of it?”

“He wants to work with you because you can help him do the right thing, and doing the right thing is what Sirius lives by,” Lily said composedly. “But… it might be part of the reason, yes. Don’t be offended, that’s just who he is. When he gets an idea in that brain of his, there are no brakes that can stop him. You’ve just got to grab the steering wheel and make sure he doesn’t hit a wall—or worse still, run someone over in the process. But if I’m being honest… I do think he really believes that the two of you can help one another. It’s just that he has always been drawn towards stuff that he shouldn’t even be thinking about.”

Lily’s earnest eyes met Remus’s, and she clucked her tongue sympathetically. “I’ve made you question his intentions. He’s good at heart, Remus, he really is. I think you can see that from a mile away. He wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble to keep your secret if it were nothing but a game to him.”

Remus nodded, thoughtfully. “But I’ve told him I won’t help him,” he said. “And I haven’t changed my mind, nor will I.”

“He’s persuasive too, and he knows it.”

“I won’t yield.”

Lily smiled sadly. “That’s a shame for us.”

“You lot think I’m selfish.”

“We don’t,” Lily said, sounding genuine, “but I must admit, I can hardly look past this whole Fenrir thing. Remus… I’m being serious, it’s unforgivable.”

Something turned nastily in Remus’s stomach. “You can’t tell anyone, Lily,” he pleaded. “No one at the Ministry can find out. I know I’m asking for a lot, but this is a secret that can’t get out. It’ll end me.”  

Lily sighed. “You could change the way this war plays out,” she said, quietly. “Think about it, Remus. It’s a huge responsibility, but I have every faith in you.”

“Fenrir’s only an infinitesimal part of all this.”

“We’re at a point where any small victory is crucial. We can only win by tackling one battle at a time.”

“You’re asking for so much.”

“You could save so many lives.”

Remus closed his eyes tiredly. Didn’t he know? 

“What are you so afraid of, Remus?” Lily asked gently.

“I’m not afraid,” Remus countered, “I’m frustrated. You would be too, if you were asked to throw your own family under the bus.”

“It sounds to me like you’re scared of losing this war. But we all are, Remus.”

Finally, Remus opened his eyes. He looked at her and said, fiercely, ”No, Lily. People like you at least have a chance at winning in this war. But people like me… we’ll lose either way.”

***

There were many things that Remus hated about Diagon Alley: the masses of people, the numerous slimy salesmen, and the overpriced cafés and shops, to name a few. He rarely wandered any further than The Leaky Cauldron, and even if he did, it was usually just to pay a visit to Gringotts or the pub down the street. But there was one thing he could not deny: the place was made for Christmastime.

Everywhere he looked, he could see bright lights and tiny Christmas trees, or explosive gift boxes, or mistletoes hung onto doorframes. Everyone was either in jolly spirits or running around in stress, trying to get their last bits of Christmas shopping done. Remus passed various groups of carollers and many families with tiny children who were dressed as Muggle elves. Though never one for all the frantic fuss, Remus felt weirdly comforted by the sight of all this. His own mother had always made sure Christmas was special during his childhood years.

He walked to the end of Diagon Alley and, continuing past Gringotts, slipped into Knockturn Alley. There, the atmosphere was much grimmer; there were no twinkling lights, and every Christmas tree was adorned with peculiar vials and small, skull-shaped objects. A choir of carollers was singing by a pub as well, but they sounded more like they were being tortured with a saw. Pushing past them, Remus entered the pub and walked directly to the counter.

The bartender was a well past middle-aged woman with hair the colour of blue flames. She looked him up and down and nodded. “What can I get ya, honey?” she asked briskly. “Ya sure ya ain’t in the wrong place? Sissy Street is the next one over.” Smirking nastily, she placed both palms on the counter and leaned over, the neckline of her shirt drooping dangerously low. Remus moved back, staring at her yellowy teeth. “Well?” she cackled. “Did the Sphinx catch your tongue, hun?”

“I’ll have a whiskey,” Remus huffed, vexed. He knew never to expect pleasant customer service when visiting Knockturn Alley, but they could have at least come up with new insults. He could no longer keep up with the number of times he had been called a wimp.

The blue-haired bartender brought his drink over and, much to his chagrin, stayed with him until he had finished it. She eyed his empty glass knowingly. “Want another one? I can give you something stronger from beneath the counter, if you want…”

“Just a Firewhiskey, please,” Remus said.

“You sure, hun?” the witch asked, training her wicked eyes on him. “You look like you could use something with a bit more… pow.”

Remus shook his head. “Just the whiskey, please.”

Rolling her eyes, the bartender granted his wish and finally left him on his own. He finished his drink and left the money on the counter, rushing out of the pub and onto the dark street again. The choir was no longer singing, having moved on to violins. The sound the instruments made resembled more a clowder of screeching cats than a violin concerto.

He found another pub not long after and swooped in for a spiked hot chocolate, with the intention of battling off the cold. This place was much nicer, with fewer people and a more tolerable barkeeper. There was even a fire on in the hearth, casting a warm glow around the space. There, he spent the next two hours, enjoying the comfort of his loneliness. Though he missed Marlene immensely, for now, he was content by himself; no one in the pub knew him, nor did he have to fear someone might come in to look for him. He could drink all the warm beverages he wanted to and converse with other customers by the fireplace. For a while, it didn’t feel like Knockturn Alley at all.

When he finally emerged back onto the street, night had fallen. He was not tired, nor did he want to return to his quiet room at The Leaky Cauldron. Instead, he took to wandering the numerous side alleys, which had by now emptied of people. It was a funny thing, feeling like you belonged in the infamous Knockturn Alley. The place had frightened him, once, but that had been before he had realised that all the people who were not welcomed in Diagon Alley came there. In Knockturn Alley, everyone belonged – and if you didn’t, you knew you were one of the lucky ones. For, to be looked down on there, you had to be a regular wizard with no dark blood coursing through your veins. All the rest of the wizarding world was designed for such people; the others had had to find their own place.

After a long time of wandering about, Remus turned to yet another dingy alleyway. At the end of it, he found a spiralling metal staircase which led so high he could barely see the top of it. The building it was attached to was tall and made of red brick, with a flat roof and no lights on in the windows. The metal stairs groaned under Remus’s weight as he ascended them, slowly working his way upwards. The streets below him grew further away with each step, and he tried not to look directly down. His mind was still foggy from all the drinks, but he felt light as a feather. Down below, the world was quiet.

On the roof of the brick building, he walked to the edge and looked over it. It made him dizzy, and so he returned to the centre of the roof, from where he could look at the sky above. There were no stars in sight, him being in the city and the sky being covered in clouds. Nonetheless, he lowered himself onto his back and stared upwards, allowing his mind to wander.

Remus closed his eyes. He wasn’t used to how light it was in the city, even during night-time. In the forests, you couldn’t escape the darkness of nightfall even if you tried. Among the trees, not even the Moon had much power over its surroundings. You could always light a fire, but those died out eventually; you could cast a spell too, but what was the point of fighting it? Darkness came as naturally as light.

Cracking his eyes open again, Remus tilted his head to the side. Beyond the edge of the roof, he could see another building, even taller than the one he was on. The roof of that building looked empty from where he was lying, but it may not have been. Maybe on that roof there was another person lying down on the cold stone ground, staring up at the mock-stars of London. Maybe they were as lost as he was. He thought about shouting something, to see if someone might answer him, but in the end, he chose not to. Maybe it was better if he didn’t know; maybe then, he could pretend he really was not alone.

The stone surface of the roof felt cold beneath his fingertips, its million tiny cracks and bumps harsh as he spread his arms and feet apart and kept moving them back and forth. He imagined his nameless companion on the other roof looking down at him now and seeing a lonely man with a wolf’s heart acting as though he were an angel, and maybe even relating to him in some small, unlikely way.

Although he knew it would never reach the dark streets down below, Remus smiled up at the sky: it had started snowing. 

Chapter Text

On the morning of Christmas Eve, Remus sauntered downstairs to the pub with a somewhat hopeful heart. In spite of him feeling so gloomy lately, there was something about the time of year that always seemed to cheer him up some. A couple of days spent on his own had done wonders: he no longer dreaded returning to his family and facing Altair again. In fact, he could not wait to be reunited with his pack. Perhaps it was Christmas spirit that was making him feel so optimistic, or the Sun that was high in the sky that day, but he was done bathing in his dreary pit of misery. He had made his choice: he could not deceive the only people who shared everything he had been through.

“Tom!” he called as he descended the stairs, inexplicably giddy. The balding bartender was busy mopping the floor and wiping the wooden tables simultaneously.

“Why, don’t you look cheery, Lupin,” he said dubiously, flicking his wand to wring his cloth dry. “Smile a little wider and I’ll be inclined to think you got laid last night.”

Remus pulled a face. “Discreet as ever… Anyway, I’m heading off now. Happy Christmas!”

“S’not until tomorrow,” Tom grumbled, already turned away in an attempt to get his mop into a bucket. The rod knocked against the side of the bucket forcefully, making it tip over and flood the floor. Growing red, the innkeeper aimed his wand at the puddle and vanished it. “You did not see that,” he murmured to Remus, who only grinned.

“I’ll take it to the grave with me. Try and cheer up a bit, Tom – Christmas spirit and all that!”

“Oh, to hell with your Christmas spirit…” Tom said, but he did turn around and smile at Remus, holding the tip of his wand against his forehead. A small Christmas hat appeared atop his head, a bell jingling from the end of it. “Better?”

Remus smiled back. “Suits you. Well, I’ll see you next year. Bye!”

“Bye,” Tom chuckled. “And happy Christmas.”

The pack had moved places during the few days that Remus had been away. He found them in an abandoned cottage on the shore of a small lake. As usual, the spot was surrounded by trees and located in an area so remote it would have been impossible for someone to wander there even if the protection spells weren’t in place. The surface of the lake had frozen over, covered in a small layer of powdery snow. The lights were on in the cabin, and already, Remus could see movement inside as his pack walked around their new space. Encouraged by the comforting sight, he drudged up the rest of the path and knocked on the door.

It was Altair who came to open. Remus was already relieved by this, but it was nothing compared to the feeling that took over him when he saw the warm smile on Altair’s face. “Remus,” his friend said, holding his arms open in invitation. Remus was inside in a second, crashing into him with all the force of a herd of elephants.

“Altair,” he whispered, giddily. “Merry Christmas.”

“It’s not until tomorrow, you idiot,” Altair said, squeezing him tight all the same. “I'm glad you're here, Remus. See, I’ve been doing some thinking…”

“Look at you!”

Altair jabbed him hard in the ribs, making Remus wince and pull away. “I’m being serious, Remus,” he said, looking somewhat antsy. “I just want to start by saying that… I’m sorry. For everything. I haven’t been fair to you, and I know that things aren’t any easier for you than they are for me… You’re much braver than I am. You want change.”

Remus blinked at him, surprised. If anything, he had thought he was the one who needed to apologise. It was he who had broken half of Fenrir’s rules, maybe even more than half. Altair had merely tried to keep him and himself safe. “You don’t need to apologise,” he said, hugging Altair again. Now that he was there, he didn’t want to let go ever again. “I’ve been nothing but inconsiderate towards you and the others these past few months, but I’m done being a coward. I’ve made my decision—”

“No, Remus, please let me finish,” Altair said, stepping back to regard him severely. He took Remus’s face between his hands and smiled bravely. “I should have listened to you all those times you told me how dangerous Fenrir is. I shouldn’t have accused you of anything. I understand now why you’ve done what you’ve done. I’m so glad you’re finally here, because I want to ask you… Will you run away with me?”

Remus’s mouth dropped open. Of all the things he might have predicted to come out of Altair’s mouth, this was frankly the very final one. He had expected to get a telling off—something along the lines of ‘if you don’t pull yourself together right now…’—but never in a million years had he thought that Altair would ask him to… “Run away?” he echoed, his stomach feeling like nothing but a hollow pit inside him. “What… What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Altair said, taking Remus’s hands into his own, “that we should leave – just the two of us, together. Get away from the pack. Go and live somewhere nice, where we can finally find peace. In France, maybe, or Northern Italy… We could finally be free. You wouldn’t have to worry about Fenrir, or Sirius Black, or anyone.”

Slowly, Remus lifted a hand to his mouth, utterly shocked. There was an excited glint in Altair’s eyes, like he had finally found out what truly made him happy. Too bad, Remus couldn’t give it to him. “Altair… Where’s this coming from?”

“I told you, Remus – we’d be free of everything! I reckon you and I could do it, together! There’s plenty of inhabited land no matter where we decide to go – we can go anywhere we want! We can even switch towns every week if we want to—hell, we can switch countries! Think about it!”

The idea was certainly a fascinating one, though not entirely unproblematic. What would they tell Fenrir? And what about the others – Karina, Sebastian, Bertha? Where would they get enough money to support themselves? And… what about Marlene?

“Altair… Are you sure you would be ready for such enormous change? I mean, leaving the pack—we’d never be allowed to come back! Even if Fenrir did let us leave, what if everything else went wrong? What if something happened? We would no longer have a pack.”

“We could build our own pack,” Altair said, “You and I, we could recruit other werewolves, we could build a commune… We could live peacefully somewhere in the countryside. No hatred, no attacks… We’d leave everyone alone and be left alone in turn. It would be perfect, wouldn’t it?”

“In theory, yes…” Remus allowed, looking down at his boots in thought. If Altair had suggested the same mere months ago, he might have agreed without a second thought. But so much had happened since then… and so much was yet to happen.

“This wouldn’t be immediate,” Altair added, reading the doubt on Remus’s face. “There would have to be lots of planning, of course, and I don’t want to leave right away… But will you think about it? Will you consider running away with me?”

Remus breathed out, half relieved. He couldn’t help but smile at Altair’s earnest, excited eyes. “Yes, Altair,” he said, making the other man laugh in relief. “I'll consider it.”

Having exchanged a few more words, the two of them headed further inside the cabin. Most of the others were scattered about the den, where a fire roared in the hearth and sofas and armchairs offered comfortable seating. It was by far their most home-like residence, with actual, functioning furniture and an intact roof above their heads. Remus sat down next to Karina on a two-seater, hugging her briefly in greeting. She draped a blanket over them both and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I spoke with Altair,” she whispered, smiling knowingly. “He told me about your… plan.”

Remus blinked at her. Altair really had been thinking about it plenty, if he had gone so far as to mention it to Karina already. He shrugged vaguely, turning to look at Fenrir across the room. “It’s not decided yet,” he murmured quietly. “I don’t know if… There are a lot of things that could go very wrong.”

Karina sighed. “Yes, but it would make him very happy, and I think Altair if anyone deserves a little bit more happiness in his life.”

Remus was inclined to agree, though he still wasn’t too convinced about the plan to abandon the pack and move away, just the two of them. It would certainly make some things much easier, but then, they were both penniless and lacking any proper qualifications that might score either of them an actual, paid-for job. It would be hard, getting by without Fenrir’s assistance, and they certainly would no longer be entitled to it if they left their pack behind.

Remus turned to Karina to say something to her—something comforting, or kind—but she was already looking elsewhere, immersed in her own thoughts. He followed her line of vision and found none other than Altair, who was sitting in a single armchair by the fire, quietly reading a book. Remus looked back at Karina and noted that she looked sad, almost longing. He nudged her gently. “Hey?”

Karina flinched a little. “Mhm?” she hummed, slowly tearing her eyes off their shared friend. She smiled softly. “What is it, Remus?”

Remus glanced at Altair meaningfully. Karina’s cheeks looked a little red. “You and Altair… Is there something going on between you two?” he asked, encouragingly.

Karina paled. “Wha—no! He’s not—I-I’m not—There’s nothing going on!”

Remus bit back a smile. “Mhm…”

“There’s not!” Karina insisted, leaning closer to him. Her eyes looked sad again. “I swear there’s nothing going on between us, Remus. Even if I…” She fell quiet, turning away again absently.

And suddenly, Remus understood. Maybe there wasn’t anything going on between Altair and Karina – but that didn’t mean she didn’t want there to be. “Karina… Are you in love with him?” For a long time, Remus got no answer. But then, very inconspicuously and without turning to him, Karina nodded her head. He let out a quiet breath. “Oh, Karina… I had no idea. Does he… does he know?”

“No,” Karina whispered, miserably. She wiped tears off her cheeks, back still turned towards Remus. “And he can never find out… It would ruin everything.”

Remus reached out to touch her shoulder. “What do you mean?” he asked, glancing at Altair again. He was still nose-deep in his book. “Have you tried telling him? Why do you think it would ruin everything?”

Suddenly, Karina let out a sob and finally turned to look at him – though it might have been only because she didn’t want Altair to see that she was crying. She shook her head at Remus sorrowfully. “Don’t you get it? I love him, Remus. I need him to be happy!”

“But…”

“If I told him I loved him, he would never leave the pack. He would stay here forever, and I know he’d be miserable. He claims he doesn’t mind being here, but in all honesty, he hates it. He hates Fenrir, and being part of all this… it makes him hate himself, too. And I know the only way for him to ever find true happiness is to be away from the pack. But if he knew what it is he’d be leaving behind… he wouldn’t have the heart to go.”

“You could come with us,” Remus hurried to say. “I mean it! If we do end up deciding to go… I’d be glad to have you join us.”

Karina smiled at him faintly. “Thank you, Remus. That’s very kind, but I couldn’t do it. Leaving the pack… that’s not what I want. No matter how horrid Fenrir is, I don’t want to return to what I was before I found my way here.”

Remus nodded. “Yeah… Fair enough…”

“Besides, it’s quite clear that he loves someone else…” With a wistful smile, Karina looked away. Remus wasn’t sure what to say. He loved Altair too, but when it came to making him happy, Remus wasn’t sure he would ever be the right person to do that. Karina might be, though. Her gaze wandered slowly to Altair again, and Remus let her watch him without interfering. It was a funny thing, love. Sometimes, it made the world go around. Other times, it made you choose between staying and leaving; between your own heart and another person’s. But one thing was for sure: to truly get it, you needed to sacrifice something.

Remus lifted his gaze, and immediately his stomach swooped nastily. Across the crowded room, Fenrir was staring directly at him.

***

Christmas passed like any other day, but the atmosphere within the pack was entirely different. No one seemed to remember their old grudges, and while they didn’t exactly spend the holiday as one big family, it was clear that something was in the air – magic, maybe, or some sort of mutual understanding at the very least. They could argue with one another any day, tear at each other with words and fingernails, but this one day of the year was sacred. It didn’t matter whether every one of them celebrated the holiday or not: for just one day, they wanted peace, and so that was what they chose; together.

On Boxing Day, Remus slept until noon. It was as though the previous day’s tranquillity still loomed in the corners of the cabin, creating an illusion of utter, unbreakable safety. The room he slept in was merely half the size of Marlene and Dorcas’s guest room and he shared it with three other people, but it was warm, and their beds, though creaky, bore proper mattresses and pillows for once.

The cabin itself was a two-story building with a fireplace in the downstairs den and a stove in the kitchen space, which could be brought to life with a bit of help from magic—not that they necessarily needed it, but it was almost nice to forget about their wands for once and cook meals and brew tea on a regular cooktop. Karina was most excited about it and spent two entire days either cooking dishes from the prey the others brought back from the forests or brewing them all hot drinks to ward off the cold. When everyone was sated, she experimented with her potions, eager to have an almost-non-magically sourced fire to brew them on for once. Remus thought it must have reminded her of home, though he did not know exactly where she came from and whether her memories from those days were fond or not – she rarely talked about her past. Nonetheless, she seemed brighter than she had for days, and that lit a spark of hope in all of them.

After discovering Karina’s undisclosed love for Altair, Remus noticed that the small things he had barely paid attention to before were in fact rather obvious clues to her feelings. Every morning, she would prepare him a cup of tea separately from the others’, with dried herbs she had been storing since the summer. When she thought no one was looking, she would steal longing glances of him and watch as he went about his day as normal. At night, the two of them often retreated into a quiet nook or the outside patio with a blanket and warm drinks to talk and laugh, or sometimes to whisper and cry. But not once did she bring up her romantic love towards him, nor did she expect him to return it.

Altair remained—or chose to remain—oblivious to this all. Perhaps he thought they were merely friendly gestures and that she was simply an extraordinarily good friend. And, Remus thought, she truly was that, even if that wasn’t the whole story, for Karina did what many people could not have done: she kept loving shamelessly even when she knew her feelings might never be reciprocated. She didn’t hate Altair for not being in love with her; she accepted that he loved her, and she was grateful for that alone. Remus truly adored her, but there was one downfall to Altair’s ignorance: he failed to see how badly he was hurting her.

Over the course of the next two weeks, he stuck closely to Remus’s side. Maybe it was a thing of the subconscious, or then he simply feared that letting Remus out of his range of vision might ruin their plan-in-the-making altogether. On more than one occasion, he crawled into Remus’s bed at night to keep him company. Remus never minded—they did not do anything but talk and keep each other warm—but he did feel bad for Karina, who slept alone in the room on the other side of the wall. She had confined in Remus, and though he obviously didn’t possess the ability to change the way Altair’s heart worked, he wasn’t exactly helping either. 

***

There was no mass attack that full moon, despite Sirius’s earlier warnings. Remus felt reassured and remained confident in his choice to stay faithful to his pack. He had worried for nothing, and though Fenrir still remained a problem without a solution, there was no immediate danger to be anticipated. 

Marlene got in touch with him towards the end of January, saying she and Dorcas had spent Christmas and New Year’s together somewhere in Spain. The tone of her message was sincerely apologetic, but Remus couldn’t blame her for going away for a while. If anything, he was happy she had chosen to put herself first for once.

He wrote back to her at length. After all, things were looking up for him too, and he had found peace in his decision to stay with the pack. He told Marlene about this and his latest run-in with Sirius—she hadn’t mentioned him in her letter, but Remus knew she was curious—and regaled his own Christmas and New Year’s celebrations. He told her vaguely that they had found a nice place to spend the winter and that he didn’t know yet when he would be returning to London. Perhaps he would wait until spring, when winter would finally be beaten and the forests green again.

Alyna found him at the edge of the forest when he was sending the owl off. He was just watching the bird’s receding figure when he heard the crack of a tree branch behind him. Turning around, he sighed in relief. “You scared me,” he said, smiling faintly as he turned to look at the sky again. It was a clear night; the stars twinkled brightly overhead.

“Who was the owl for?” Alyna asked, bluntly.

Remus resisted a laugh. He hadn’t spoken to Alyna much over the past months, but of course she was there the second something even slightly curious happened. She was a worse gossip-machine than half the people who wrote for The Daily Prophet.

“A friend,” he responded mildly.

“The same one you go and visit all the time?” she demanded.

“I wouldn’t say all the time… but yes, she’s the one,” Remus nodded.

“Is she a girlfriend, then?”

“No… Just a friend. Or more like a sister, really.”

“I had one of those,” Alyna said, squinting into the darkness. The waning moon was bright that night, casting a silvery glow upon the snow-covered forest. “A sister, I mean. She was a couple’a years older than me… We used to do everything together.”

Remus glanced at her, surprised. He wasn’t sure whether she was pulling his leg, but something about her expression said that she was being serious. Why she’d chosen to tell him, he had no idea. “I’m sorry,” Remus said, trying to imagine a younger version of Alyna. It was hard; he’d only known her as an adult. “What happened to her?”

Alyna huffed, sounding almost bitter. “What happened to her? Fenrir happened to her, boy. See, I was the lucky one. I only got bitten—she lost her limbs.”

Bile rose into Remus’s mouth, and he lifted a hand to his face, shocked. “I… I had no idea. I’m so sorry, Alyna…”

“Eh, t’was a horrible sight, sure, but at least she died quickly. My parents had to get obliviated afterwards, though—couldn’t escape their nightmares. And me… I left home and haven’t gone back since.”

Remus looked at his feet. He hadn’t heard Alyna’s story before, though he was not surprised she didn’t often want to regale it. However, there was one thing he couldn’t understand: why did Alyna, who had lost everything because of Fenrir, want to stick to his side so closely? Why did she choose to make others suffer the same horrid destiny, having lived through it once herself? 

“I was fourteen when I got bitten,” Alyna added, still reminiscing. “Much older than you were, I suppose. I remember life before lycanthropy…”

“How did you learn to live with it?”

The woman turned to him sharply, as if he’d said something stupid. “What do you mean?” she snapped. “My life’s a billion times better now than it was before Fenrir found me! What, you think having an older sister meant I was happy? I was never wanted by my parents—most of the time, they loathed me! My sister was the only reason I didn’t leave before that! Fenrir gave me a ticket out of that place.”

“You can’t possibly be grateful to him,” Remus said lowly.

“You’re a silly little boy, aren’t you?” Alyna sneered, poking one filthy finger against his chest. All vulnerability had long since melted away from her features. “You know, maybe you don’t feel the same way, but Fenrir has given us everything. He’s given us a family—one that doesn’t loathe us or fear us. You ought to be grateful, too!”

“Fenrir ruined my childhood,” Remus said bitterly, “and I’m not going to thank him for that. And I certainly won’t deliberately ruin anyone else’s.”

“You always were weak,” Alyna said, smirking nastily. “You still believe in justice, but wait until you grow up a little. You’ll see that to get by in this world, you need to stick up for yourself. Crying over every little thing only makes you weaker, and soon you’ll have no power to save yourself.” With one more menacing look, she turned on her heel and stomped back the way she’d come, her bare feet sinking into the snow. When he could no longer see her, Remus slumped down onto the ground, drawing his knees into his chest. Perhaps Fenrir had given them all a family, but he had also taken one from all of them. Hell would freeze over before Remus would ever thank him for it.

***

February’s full moon occurred in the middle of the month and passed again without bloodshed. Alyna had started avoiding Remus again, but he was only grateful for it. He had had more than one nightmare about her sister since their last talk, and although it had happened fifteen years ago, it still seemed to bother him beyond measure. Luckily, he had other things to worry about too—Fenrir, for one. He spent more and more time away from the pack, and that almost always meant that something was up. Perhaps Remus was becoming paranoid after all his conversations with Sirius, but a part of him wanted to know what was going on. The other, less curious part merely wanted to lull in ignorance and believe that everything was alright. 

Remus visited London on the first weekend of March, finally feeling secure enough to leave his pack for some hours. He and Marlene grabbed lunch in Diagon Alley and pretended to catch up like any other pair of old friends who hadn’t seen each other in months. Only, being as protective as she was, Marlene was poor at hiding the horrified look on her face when she first saw him enter the café.

Remus knew he didn’t exactly look dashing after three consecutive months spent in the wilderness with his pack, but he had not realised how different he must have looked before Marlene outright told him. “You look like you’ve lost half your bodyweight since I last saw you!” she said in shock, running her hands down his chest and ribcage. “Jesus… Do they not feed you there?”

“I feed myself, Marlene,” Remus said dismissively, taking a seat at the table she’d chosen for them. The place was too busy to talk about such sensitive topics anyway, and he did not like being fussed over. “I’m doing fine. I feel energetic. I’ve been… happier, too.”

“You look like you haven’t slept properly since Christmas!" 

“You look great too,” Remus said pointedly, beckoning a waiter over. “Now, can we talk about something else? I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“I am happy to see you,” Marlene insisted, sitting down and reaching over the table to take both of Remus’s hands into hers. “I’m just worried, too… Why don’t you come and spend a few days with me and Dorcas, hm? You’d get to shower and sleep in a proper bed for once…”

Remus squeezed her hands back but shook his head, refusing. Just then, the waiter he’d waved at earlier sauntered to their table with a floating notebook following behind her. “And what may I get you?” she asked, peering down at the two curiously. Remus suddenly felt more self-conscious about his appearance. Marlene had been with him at his worst, and even she’d been shocked to see him now.

“Grilled salmon, please,” Marlene said politely, nudging Remus’s foot under the table. “And a glass of white wine.”

“For both of you?” the waiter asked, glancing tentatively at Remus, as if half expecting he might not speak at all.

“Sure,” Remus said, averting his gaze. The waiter nodded and scurried away, and only once she was gone did he look at Marlene again. “Do I really look that ragged?” he asked. 

Marlene winced, smiling apologetically. “It’s not just the appearance, either…”

Remus groaned, burying his face in his hands. They had a possibility to bathe at the cabin, but it wasn’t really necessary when they were all so used to washing themselves in the river or not washing themselves at all. In hindsight, freshening up before he came to meet his best friend for lunch might have been a good idea. But it was too late now to dwell on it.

Noticing his discomfort, Marlene reached out again and touched his arm. “Oh, cheer up, love,” she said, meeting Remus’s eye and smiling encouragingly. “I didn’t come here to criticise you. I’m just happy you agreed to see me at all.”

Remus shrugged, smiling back meekly. “I missed you. It’s no secret.”

Marlene sighed. “Are you sure you don’t want to come and stay with us for a bit? I really would love it if you did.”

“I’m sorry, Marlene, but I can’t,” Remus said apologetically. “I would love to, but things with the pack are only now starting to settle back into place again…”

“I get it,” she nodded, flashing him another smile. “I won’t keep asking you, but just know that you’re always welcome.” Remus nodded amicably, and she went on, “Anyway… Want to know what happened on Valentine’s Day?” And she lifted her left hand in the air, proudly displaying a sparkling diamond ring for all the world to see. 

Chapter Text

Remus liked to think that he knew the members of his own pack to the bone. There was something about spending every waking moment with someone that made you notice things that even they themselves might not be aware of. Alyna, for instance, had a big mouth and a vast vocabulary of menacing words on her, but when it came to it, she was all talk. She loved to imagine that she had somehow managed to become Fenrir’s right hand but failed to see that Fenrir would not accept anyone to rise to that pedestal beside him – not as a human, and certainly not as a wolf.

Sebastian, though a master of snarky comments himself, would never have dipped so low as to hurt one of his own. He was perhaps most alike Remus, then, with no fantasies of attacking innocent people, but he too was biased; blinded by the feeling of unity in their pack. He thought he could tell good from evil, but could anyone, really?

Altair was perhaps easiest for him to read, but then, he had chosen to give Remus every part of himself. He was clumsy and often took playfighting a bit too seriously, but he was stronger than he thought. The only reason he remained so kind was because his heart was bigger than the anger within him. Each scratch of his teeth or nails was always followed by a fond lick. And what he lacked in sense was made up for by his innate goodness.

Bertha was a different case entirely. She was loathsome and, more often than not, viciously angry, but there was a ting of sense in her brain at the very least. She knew her place, no matter how much she barked at you or bared her filthy teeth, and much like Alyna, she lacked autonomy. The pair of them claimed to be powerful – and perhaps sometimes they were – but when it came to Fenrir, they were like puppets on strings. And they were glad to be, whether they realised it or not.

Deomeorix was like an excited little boy, though hungry not for adrenaline but for power. Remus was almost sure that had he not been bitten, he would still have joined to stand by Voldemort’s side like a loyal servant. But beneath it all, it was clear that that little boy had never received the love he had deserved, and for that reason, it was easy to feel sorry for him. After all, when you had nothing, power was the most tempting thing to strive for.

But Fenrir… There was no one quite like him.

Fenrir Greyback felt no remorse nor sympathy. He was the strongest of his own pack, the leader, and he was never afraid to sink his teeth into flesh or drag blood from a live body with his dirty nails. He was generous too, when he wanted to be, but he never gave without taking something in return. It was an eye for a finger; innocence for a home; two lives for one. He knew when you needed him, and he made sure to take advantage of that vulnerability and mask it as nobility and greatness. He was the master of deception.

To him, the death of a family member might as well have been the death of a stranger.

***

Remus woke up covered in his own blood. Dizziness overtook him as he lifted his head, and before he could even open his eyes properly, he was vomiting on the damp ground. People were talking around him, but it wasn’t until a hand touched his back that he truly knew he wasn’t alone.

“Oh, my…” Altair breathed, sounding panicked, “Remus, are you alright?!”

Remus hardly had time to answer before Altair was already muttering healing charms, touching the tip of his wand shakily to the wounds on Remus’s neck and torso. The smell around them was foul, probably thanks to his vomiting and all the blood, but Altair remained concentrated as he healed the bigger wounds on his body. “You’re alright,” he kept murmuring gently. “You’re okay…”

Around them, commotion started. There were faces both panicked and contented, sounds of laughter and confused uttering. Bertha walked past them with blood in her greying hair and a smile on her face—and she wasn’t the only one. Deomeorix and Alyna looked smug, standing side by side some thirty feet away from them. The people that didn’t have a clue what was going on were too dumbfounded to do anything.

“What happened?” Remus asked, still too in shock to form a coherent thought. Altair’s hand felt cool on his forehead as he moved onto the cuts on his face. He could feel them sewing back together.

“Shh,” his friend hushed, gently. “You’re alright…”

Remus took a closer look at him and sat up abruptly. “Altair!” he gushed, horrified, touching a hand to Altair’s chest. He too was covered in claw marks, a deep red in colour, like the petals of a rose. “What happened to you?” he croaked.

Altair smiled sadly. He touched his own already patched-up wounds with the tips of his fingers. “The same thing that happened to you, I presume.”

“Fenrir…” Remus was up on his feet in an instant, looking around frantically. “Where is he?” he asked, clenching his hands into fists. “Where is he?!”

“Remus, please calm down… You’re only drawing attention.”

Remus rounded on him, panting heavily. “Did they attack someone last night?” he asked, “Did they?!”

Altair’s face said it all. Sirius had been right all along, then – or at least he had been right to fear that Fenrir might strike again. But Remus had been sure too, hadn’t he? That was why he had tried to get him to back down just last night. He remembered being cornered and seeing bared teeth. After that, it had all gone dark.

“Only two people got hurt,” Altair whispered, gravely. “It’s still too much, I know, but it looks worse now than it is. That blood on their faces, I think it’s from a deer. That’s the last thing I saw before I collapsed.”

Remus shook his head, much too overwhelmed. “I need to get out of here,” he muttered, pushing past his friend to get to the cottage. The ice had long since melted from the lake’s surface, and now it looked dark and uninviting. Spring was on its way, though it came without light.

“Wait!” Altair hurried after him, grasping him by the arm and turning him around again. He looked Remus severely in the eyes. “Where are you going?”

Remus sighed. “This can’t keep happening, Altair. It’s brutal. I know what you think—that we can’t save everyone—but I can’t watch another child’s family go through this again.”

Altair nodded, slowly. Remus knew that he understood, even though it meant that they would not be getting the chance to run off together. Remus had known for weeks now that he couldn’t stay with the pack forever. It had been merely a question of whether he was going to run away with Altair and leave the pack be, or act to stop Fenrir altogether. He had his final answer now: he would find no peace before Fenrir was without power.

“I have to go,” Remus said again, prying Altair’s hand off.

“Will you go to Sirius Black?” Altair asked unashamedly.

Remus couldn’t lie to him. “I promise I won’t do anything yet,” he assured his friend. “Please don’t tell anyone. If they ask, tell them I went to Diagon Alley—that I’ll be back before the next moon. And… please stay safe, Altair. I don’t like the way Fenrir’s been acting lately. He won’t hesitate to hurt one of us in the right state of mind… We saw that last night.”

Altair hesitated for a second. Then, uncomfortably, he said, “You won’t come back with the Auror though, will you?”

“Of course not,” Remus said. “I only need to talk with him. I’ll be back – alone.”

Altair nodded again. He looked disappointed, but he too knew that something had to be done. Remus stepped closer and kissed him on the cheek in farewell. He had no reason not to trust him. And he sure as hell had no intention of leaving him behind.

***

Remus knew he probably should not trust Sirius. There was still no guaranteeing that the whole asking-for-help thing wasn’t merely a ploy developed by the Werewolf Capture Unit to imprison him and his pack. It was likely, even, given that the grand prize was Fenrir Greyback himself. Leaving his life in the hands of an eager Auror was frankly the last thing Remus should even have been considering, but when it came down to facts, they played in Sirius’s favour.

First of all, it was over a half-year ago that Sirius had found out about his condition, and yet he still remained a free man. Remus could easily name ten occasions on which Sirius could have put an end to his liberty, but they had never even come close to that. Technically, Remus was as free as he had ever been.

Secondly, Sirius had a clear vision: He wanted Fenrir in prison. He wanted to make sure no one got hurt. He wanted to fight the ongoing war, one battle at a time if it so be. Sirius had every reason and every possibility to help with the war efforts, and that he did. Remus had never seen anyone work so tirelessly for anything. If Sirius lacked anything, it was certainly not work moral.

And thirdly—and perhaps most importantly—all signs seemed to suggest that Sirius was indeed a good person, inside and out. He was just and loyal and relentless. He fought for his loved ones, but he also fought for those who could not fight for themselves. He risked his own life, trying to make the world a safer place for everyone. A bad person could’ve never done such things.

So, in the end, there weren’t many reasons for Remus not to trust him. Fine, there was the Veritaserum incident, but apart from that, when had Sirius ever posed a real threat to him? If anything, Sirius trusted him too. He had let Remus return to his pack time after time; he had kept him company during a full moon and left of his own accord; and he had asked for Remus’s help.

All things taken into consideration, Remus had no option but to push all selfishness aside. It wasn’t only his life that was at stake.

He realised too late that he didn’t actually know how to get inside 12 Grimmauld Place without Sirius’s assistance. There stood houses number eleven and thirteen, right before his eyes, but not a single spell came to his mind that might have revealed to him the Black family home. Did he need to provide a password? Complete some sort of a task, perhaps? He tried feverishly to recall what Sirius had done when he had showed Remus to the house that first time, but as it was, his memory was blank.

Still troubling his brain, he started walking towards the non-existent house. Sirius had simply approached the building, hadn’t he?

Ah.

As if—well, by magic, the houses began to separate again, slowly revealing row after row of tile. Relieved, Remus sprinted forward and waited impatiently for the front stairs to form. When they did, he jumped them up two at a time and raised his knuckles to knock on the wooden door of house number twelve.

As he waited, it occurred to him that Sirius may not be home at all. It would have made perfect sense for him to be at the Ministry of Magic or otherwise on work business, perhaps in some devastated Muggle village somewhere in Scotland. He was almost ready to give up when the door finally swung open.

Sirius stepped back abruptly, truly surprised. “Remus?” he said. Then his eyes dropped to the fresh scars on Remus’s face and neck, and he seemed to understand. “Come in.”

Remus stumbled inside, still panting in the aftermath of his sudden sprint. He held onto the wall as Sirius watched him with furrowed brows. “You were right,” he wheezed, clutching his side painfully, “About the attack—you were right.”

Sirius shook his head, slowly. “No,” he said. “It was only your pack. Only two people were injured last night.”

Remus froze and looked up, flabbergasted. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Sirius said, sounding dubious. “What do you mean? Why are you here?”

“To have a cup of fucking tea,” Remus snarled. “Why do you think I’m here?!”

Sirius huffed, clearly stressed. “Look, as nice it is to finally see you initiate a meetup, I need to return to work. I only came home to fetch some things, but they’re expecting me at the Ministry for an emergency meeting—”

“No!” Remus barked. “No—I need to talk to you! Now. This can’t wait.”

Sirius, having already bent to tie his shoelaces, looked up at him and raised one dark eyebrow. “Well, get on, then,” he prompted.

“I tried to stop him last night—I swear I did,” Remus said rapidly. “So did Altair. These scars—he has them too. They’re all thanks to Fenrir. He jumped me last night, after the transformation, and managed to knock me out, and—well, you know the rest. I just… I want you to know that I had nothing to do with it.”

Sirius finished tying up his boots and straightened up, smiling tightly. “Great, Remus. That doesn’t take away the fact that it happened. I told you to be wary.”

“That’s why I’m here!” Remus gushed, impatiently. “I want to make sure it never happens again. Sirius, I want to help you.”

Now it was Sirius’s turn to turn rigid as a statue. His mouth dropped open and he could hardly get a word out of his mouth. “R-really?” he uttered, already clutching onto Remus’s shoulders as if to ensure he couldn’t suddenly escape. “Will you actually help me?”

Remus had sworn a long time ago that he would never do it. And for a long time, he could’ve bet his life on it. Wasn’t it mere months ago that continuing his ordinary life with the pack had felt like the most comforting thing? He’d thought that the time would never arrive when he would actually have to choose between Sirius and his family. But things often changed so quickly.

Now, all he could do was nod.

Sirius’s pupils dilated until they were wide as saucers. There was hope in them that Remus had never seen before. “Please,” he breathed. “I’ll be eternally grateful.”

Remus’s words got stuck in his throat. Now that he had said it aloud, there was no taking it back. He’d made a promise. “After the next full moon…” he sputtered, only to be disrupted by Sirius impatiently shaking his head.

“No, no—we can’t wait until the full moon. We can’t wait for Fenrir to infect more people – we need to act before he gets the chance to hurt any—”

“It has to be after a full moon,” Remus reasoned, cutting the other man off in turn. “I don’t know where Fenrir is now, and he isn’t someone to take on half-heartedly – you’ll die if you try. He’ll be at his weakest right after the transformation, and that’s when you need to strike. You have to act before he has the chance to apparate elsewhere. It must be right after he’s turned back – from there, he’s only going to be gathering strength for the next full moon.”

“But we can’t have any more attacks…” Sirius said, looking around himself in panic. He wouldn’t meet Remus’s eyes all of a sudden, too frantic to stand still. Remus grasped his arm, firmly.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone. I can hold him off for one night. I promise I won’t let him near any inhabitations.”

Sirius turned to him defiantly. “You’ve told me he never listens to anyone but himself. And what happened last night just works to prove his power, doesn’t it? How are you suddenly going to tame him?”

Remus swallowed harshly. It was true that keeping Fenrir reined in was not an easy feat, but if the promise of a different tomorrow was there… it would be one night only. And then it would all be over. “I’ll try harder this time,” he said, decisively. “Besides, I can only double-cross him once… And this time, I’ll have a plan.”

Sirius stopped for a moment to think. Remus could practically hear the cogs turning inside his head, hurrying to help his decision. Remus wasn’t sure what he had to debate anymore – wasn’t this what he had wanted all along, for Remus to come to his aid? The choice was supposed to be self-evident.

And indeed, at last, Sirius breathed out in relief. “I could kiss you right now,” he said, smiling faintly. Then his eyes steeled, full again of their usual determination. “We need to come up with a plan. We don’t have much time…” He turned away and patted his hands against his thighs anxiously, as if expecting to find the solution from his own trouser pocket. He seemed to forget about Remus entirely as his brain began ticking again, this time much faster.

“…Right now?” Remus asked. “Don’t you have an emergency meeting to attend?” He watched half in amusement as Sirius began walking around in a small circle, muttering something frantically under his breath.

“Quiet. I’m thinking.”

“Why, don’t let me bother you.”

It took Sirius another five minutes of hectic circle-pacing to evidently come up with a masterplan. Remus had just taken to leaning against one of the tapestried walls, already bored, when Sirius suddenly looked up and pointed a finger towards the ceiling. “I’ve got it!” he exclaimed, striding over to where Remus was standing. He took hold of his shoulders and shook him vigorously. “I’ve got it. You—you’re going to give me a list of all the people we might want to capture. Fenrir, Alyna, you know the type. And then we’re going to make portkeys. You’ll ask them to wear some sort of a wristband or something, whatever we can come up with...”

Remus raised his eyebrows questioningly. “And how am I going to do that? Am I just going to walk up to them and ask them to wear a friendship bracelet for me?” He laughed doubtfully. “How am I going to convince them to do what I ask them to? They’ll think I’m absolutely bonkers!”

“You just tell them it’ll keep them safe! That you’ll explain it all later, once you’re out of there and in safety. And when we show up… Yes! It’s going to work, Remus!”

“I’m not sure I’m following.”

“We can make sure the portkeys all activate at the same time. In the meantime, we just have to keep everyone else from apparating away, which isn’t that difficult if you know the spells for it.”

“But what if the portkeys don’t work? What if one of them malfunctions or activates at the wrong time?” 

“We can enchant the wristbands so that we physically won't be able to catch anyone who’s wearing them. Make them electrifying.” 

“And then?”

“Then… we’ll finally have Fenrir and the rest of them shipped off to Azkaban, and the rest of you lot can go about living your lives like normal.” He looked at Remus eagerly, as if waiting for immediate agreement – as if there weren’t a million things that could go horribly wrong.

“That’s so risky,” said Remus, faintly.

“Everything in life is risky,” Sirius reasoned, “but what would be the fun of it, otherwise?”

Remus sighed. “You’re nuts.”

Sirius grinned at him. “Maybe – but you aren’t any saner.”

***

The week that followed Remus’s radical change of mind, he and Sirius stayed almost entirely locked up in 12 Grimmauld Place. He could only hope that everyone in the pack believed the lies he had asked Altair to feed them, but at least he didn't have to worry about running into any of them – during the seven days they spent inside the house, he only popped out twice for fresh air and a restock on food to fuel their hardworking brains. Sirius worked tirelessly, tucked away in his father’s old office, and only spoke to Remus when he discovered something curious or needed his help – or was dying for a coffee fix.

Following Sirius’s original plan, they made the bracelets and turned them into portkeys, which was the simple part. Then they figured out the charms that made them protective. It was advanced magic, something that had probably never even been done before, but Sirius was an extraordinarily skilled wizard. He read spells from a book older than his family home and muttered them under his breath as he aimed the tip of his wand at their test-wristband. Remus provided help where he could, mostly in the form of subjective knowledge based on years of experience of being a werewolf. He felt useless most of the time, but Sirius assured him constantly that whatever information he could provide him with was crucial for the success of their plan.

Sirius was so sure that their efforts were going to prove fertile that by day six, Remus had started to believe him too. “There’s just no way this isn’t going to work,” Sirius muttered for the hundredth time within an hour, holding the bracelet over his head to inspect it against his wand’s light. They had been locked in the office since early morning, testing and altering, testing and altering… Remus had already taken a nap on the sofa, but Sirius was full of energy as per usual, despite the fact that he hadn’t got an eyeful of sleep all night. Now, he twisted his head to look at Remus. “Shall we test it?”

Remus halted, a cup of coffee on its way to his lips. “Test it?” he repeated.

“Yeah!” Sirius nodded enthusiastically. “We can never be sure it really functions unless we try it!” He beckoned Remus over, who hesitated, not too confident in being the guineapig for Sirius’s questionable inventions. The other man tutted. “Oh, come on—you’re not going to die! Just give me your hand!”

“Why me?” Remus whinged, instinctively stepping backward as Sirius reached for him.

“Because,” Sirius huffed impatiently, “you’re the werewolf here! It has to be you! Go on then, give me your hand… Remus! Pretty please!”

Still dubious about surrendering himself to such peculiar trials, Remus reluctantly held his arm out. Sirius took hold of his hand and slowly slipped the bracelet around his wrist, then leaned back in his chair to wait – for what, Remus had no idea.

Seconds ticked by without so much as a ting. “Nothing is happening,” Remus stated, dully.

“Nothing is supposed to happen until I touch you,” Sirius said.

Remus lifted his hand expectantly. “Touch me, then.” 

Sirius hopped onto his feet and stepped closer to Remus, a wicked glint in his eyes. Slowly, he lifted his own hand and brought it close to Remus’s, hovering his index finger near his upturned palm. Remus felt nothing as their skins came in contact, but Sirius flew backwards like he had been electrified, stumbling against his father’s old leather couch. He resurfaced, shaking his hand painfully but wearing a grin bigger than the world on his face. “It worked!” he exclaimed gleefully, rushing forward to crowd in close to Remus. His hands came up to cradle Remus’s, but he stopped at the last second. “Take it off,” he commanded.

Remus exhaled in confusion. “W-what?”

“Take it off!”

Remus complied, quickly slipping the wristband off again and setting it carefully on the desk beside him, on a stack of parchment that Sirius had used for his extensive research. Not wasting much time, Sirius took him by the wrist and pulled him in, kissing him on the lips with such vigour that it took Remus a moment to understand what was happening. When he caught on, he quickly stepped back. “Sirius,” he breathed. “Are you sure it’ll work?”

Sirius nodded rapidly, fumbling for Remus’s hand again. “I’m sure,” he said, excitedly. “It’s a fool-proof plan, Remus. All you need to do is hand out the portkeys, and James and Lily and I will handle the rest. It’s going to work, I promise you!”

He looked at Remus with such genuine enthusiasm that Remus couldn’t help but smile back. Before he could do anything else, though, Sirius had already retreated back to his father’s desk, riffling through papers and folders. “We need to charm the rest of them now,” he said, sweeping the uncharmed bracelets off the table and holding them out until Remus caught on and opened his palms. Sirius dropped the bracelets into his hands and started fumbling for his wand, tucked away in the back pocket of his trousers. Concentration taking over his face again, he began charming them with the same complicated spells he had used on the first one.

When they were finally done, nearly two hours later, Remus stared at the bracelets on the table ambivalently. Some days ago, he had wanted for this moment to happen more than anything, but now, in front of him lay the solution to most of his problems, and he couldn’t find it in himself to be happy. With these portkeys, he could guarantee his own freedom for the foreseeable future, as well as the safety of what was probably hundreds of people. He would be able to save Altair. Fenrir would finally get locked up in prison where he couldn’t hurt even himself. Really, he should have felt relieved, but he simply didn’t. Sometimes, making grand decisions made you feel at peace. Other times, it made you dread the consequences. What if he had chosen differently? 

Sirius’s hands settled onto his hips from behind. He placed his chin on Remus’s shoulder, peering at the bracelets proudly. Even after everything that had happened between them, Remus didn't resent his proximity.

“What’s on your mind?” Sirius whispered softly.

Remus swallowed nervously. “It’s done now, isn’t it?”

“No,” Sirius said mildly, “But half of it is done now. All we need to do now is wait.”

Remus nodded. He was being torn in two to the point where he felt like he had already cracked, all his intestines falling to the floor beneath him. He felt empty. He imagined a rope, on one side of which was his pack—Fenrir, Altair, Karina, Alyna, Bertha, Deomeorix—and on the other, Sirius. Sirius and his unfailing need to be just and act toward the greater good. Remus had loathed him at first for those exact characteristics, just like Sirius had loathed him, yet here they were now, standing so close to each other that Remus could hear every breath the other man took. He might have been happy, had he not almost wished for the other side to win.

But at the end of the day, Sirius’s grasp on the rope had been stronger all along. Perhaps Remus hadn’t seen it at first, but it had been inevitable that Sirius won in the end. He was mere inches away now from pulling the others across the imaginary line drawn on the ground. He was sure of his own victory, and slowly, Remus was starting to be, too.

“We should go to bed,” Sirius said. “We’ve done all we can for now.”

Remus nodded. He was exhausted, though he couldn't imagine getting much sleep tonight. “Yeah,” he said quietly, nonetheless. “Maybe you’re right.”

Chapter Text

The following day, when Sirius had to return to work from his ‘research break,’ Remus stayed at the house by himself. There were few things he dared to do in a stranger’s home, but he made the most of his time by scouring through the numerous bookshelves and picking the opuses with the most atrocious titles to read. Although he had already spent a week living within those ominous walls with Sirius, wandering about felt a bit rude. Most things in the house, he suspected even Sirius himself had never touched. Most of the items sitting around each room were covered in dust, and though Sirius had mentioned having a house elf at present, Remus was yet to stumble into the creature.

He was sitting in the kitchen when Sirius finally got home. It was already late afternoon, and Remus was bored to his core. He had been toying with the idea of returning to the pack all day.

His host swept into the room and set a briefcase on the dining table. Remus looked at it curiously, but Sirius didn’t bother to elaborate; he merely crashed down in a chair and, with an exhausted sigh, propped his feet on the table. “Merlin’s balls, maybe seven days is far too long for one to be absent from work,” he said, fixing Remus with a look that implied he might be able to relate on some level. He didn’t, of course, but he couldn’t bother correcting Sirius.

“Was it a rough day, then?” he asked conversationally. It was mostly a question to avoid silence, but he should've been prepared for Sirius’s dramatics anyway.

“Oh, not at all!” the Auror exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air elaborately. “You know, maybe if someone in that place knew how to do something without my assistance, then we’d get one thing done properly! But no—I walk in there this morning and the whole headquarters is a chaos! Sirius, did you see this? Black, can you do that? Argh! I know I’m not the only one there with the required training, but sometimes it truly feels like I am!”

Remus blinked at him, unsure of what he ought to say. “I’m… sorry to hear that,” he tried.

Sirius tacked on like he couldn’t hear him, “And you know what the best part is? Half our people have fucking quit. We’re truly running short on staff, and—oh, what the hell, why am I telling you all this? You don’t care.”

Remus shrugged. “If it helps you to get it all out…”

Sirius waved him off, shaking his head annoyedly. “Ugh, never mind. I shouldn’t be complaining, anyway – at least I still have a job.”

At this, Remus leaned towards him. “What do you mean?” he inquired.

Sirius’s expression darkened, and he started idly picking at the worn tablecloth as he explained, “People aren’t just quitting – they’re getting fired, too. Not anyone from our department, but I heard that half of Peter’s co-workers have already got the boot, and he’s convinced he’s going to be next in line. Of course, I think he’s just being paranoid, but the war truly is taking its toll on everyone…”

“Peter… The man who was at The Seven Centaurs that night? James’s friend?”

Sirius nodded absently. “He’s all our friend—though with the amount of time he spends at work, I wouldn’t be surprised if he's forgotten us by now. He certainly won’t get sacked if he really has spent all this time running errands for Fudge.”

“What, you think he’s lying to you?”

“Never said that,” Sirius said, “but I don’t think he’s telling us everything either. I reckon he’s finally found himself a lady to please. James and I have time to hang out together, and we’re working fulltime too! Pete’s just always been a bit of a wuss – can’t stand up for himself.”

Remus shrugged, indifferent. In his book, friendship wasn't measured by the amount of time you spent with someone. If it was so, then he wouldn’t have many friends at all. And in any case, Sirius wasn’t one to talk: he had just spent an entire week between four walls and failed to inform anyone but James of his whereabouts. Remus didn’t know Peter, but he got the impression his and Sirius’s friendship wasn’t entirely built on equality.

“Have you tried inviting him over?” he asked. Not once during their shared time in the Black family home had Sirius even mentioned Peter – but then, they had been busy with slightly more pressing things.

“Many a time,” Sirius grumbled. “It’s always work this, Fudge that… And you know, I can’t even remember the last time he’s asked me to do something together. I’m fed up with the work excuse – even Cornelius Fudge can’t be that stringent!”

“Well, maybe you should just keep trying,” Remus said. “I don’t see Marlene that often, and I do feel bad about it, but I’m able to live with myself only because she’s so understanding. We’ve gone months without seeing each other with no proper reason, and she still welcomes me every time.”

“But that’s different,” Sirius huffed, vexed. “You’re a werewolf! You live in the forests, not in a bloody flat in London like Peter, paid for by the Ministry. And besides, I would welcome him with open arms if he ever decided to fucking show up in the first place!”

“Fine, I don’t know what to say, then. But clearly it’s bothering you, so why won’t you try a little harder? Ask him here for dinner or something, invite Lily and James too. I know that maintaining your friendship with Peter isn’t solely on your shoulders, but he might really just be busy. If Marlene had given up on me so easily, I would probably be dead already.”

Though the provocation seemed to annoy Sirius, Remus also knew that he had an innate desire to prove everyone wrong. He must have really got under his skin, for the next thing Sirius did was slam his palms against the table and push himself upright. “Alright, fine! They’re all to come here tonight. And I’m inviting Marlene and Dorcas too, so don’t you even think about slipping off when I’m not looking.”

Remus sighed wearily. The idea of returning to his pack was still tingling in the back of his mind. It would at least bring him peace: when he wasn’t with the pack, he couldn’t be sure what they were up to. Being with them would at least give him the advantage of being able to pry; staying with Sirius in London meant that he would be left to guess. “I’m not sure, Sirius. I ought to get back to my—”

“Just one night,” Sirius insisted, cutting him off. “It was your idea anyway.”

“But Sirius,” Remus countered, starting to grow annoyed, “James and Lily know now. It won’t be the same. I’ll be the odd one out, even if no one dares to say it out loud.”

Sirius placed his hands on the back of his chair, leaning forward to look at Remus with a satisfied smile. “That’s what you get, Romulus. You complain about not seeing Marlene enough anyway, so I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to stay.”

“Of course you don’t. But do you think James and Lily will be thrilled to have me here? And do you think I want to be in the same room with them? Listen, when I agreed to help you—”

“Yes, yes,” Sirius said, blasé, “we didn’t make a pact to become friends. But you’re already here anyway, and besides, we’ve still got to test the rest of the bracelets before you return to the pack.”

“I could go to The Leaky Cauldron for one night,” Remus shrugged. “That’s where everyone thinks I am, anyway.”

Sirius sighed dramatically. “Would it kill you to spend time with someone other than me and Marlene for a change?”

Remus gaped. “I do hang out with other people!”

“Yeah, your pack!”

“That’s other people!”

“Oh, please,” Sirius tutted. “If I told you I hang out with my parents, would you say that means I’ve friends?”

“That’s an entirely different situation,” Remus scoffed. “I have friends, Sirius – none of whom are Aurors or want to ship me off to Azkaban. That’s quite a huge plus, actually.”

“You know, I’m starting to think you’ve gone deaf, because I’ve told you a million times that—”

“—you don’t intend to send me to Azkaban? Yeah, I think we’ve established that.”

“You don’t trust me, then.”

Remus shrugged forcefully. “Not entirely, no. But you don’t trust me either, so…”

Sirius deflated visibly. “Won’t you just stay for one more night? I’ll ask Lily and James not to talk about you at all,” he said, defeated.

“Does Peter even know about me?”

“No. I only told James and Lily because I’m going to need their help. Pete doesn’t have to find out if that’s the way you prefer it.”

Sighing, Remus gave a relenting nod. “Fine, I’ll stay for your stupid party—but even the slightest mention of my condition and I’m out.”

Sirius grinned, already slipping towards the doorway. “That’s what I thought. Good boy—I’ll go send the owls!”

***

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

Sirius scoffed, turning to him dramatically. He was in the middle of brewing some sort of a punch for the evening’s gathering, though Remus wasn’t sure he would dare have a taste. Even from afar, it smelled strong enough to burn the hairs in his nose. “Blah, blah,” the other man said dismissively, flicking his wand to stir the ominous concoction. “You’re just so happy with sticking to your own comfort. They’re all nice people, I swear.”

“Sirius, I’ve met them all, and that’s not what this is about. In fact, I'd be much more open to doing this if I didn’t know who they all are.”

“Well, tough. Your best friend’s coming over, so you might as well cheer up a bit.”

“You know, this whole spending-time-with-you-thing is really starting to wear off,” Remus grumbled, turning to exit the room. He felt more anxious by the minute, unsure of whether he should just break his promise and return to his pack prematurely. Some small part of him was longing to be surrounded by them, and knowing that their time together was running short, he felt the need to get back as soon as he could. Even though he and Sirius had somewhat been able to tolerate each other’s company for the better half of two weeks now, Remus knew when he had overstayed his welcome.

Much to his chagrin, before he could actually execute his grand exit, the doorbell rang. Sirius shoved his wand in Remus’s hand and pointed at the stove. “Keep an eye on that while I get the door.” Fighting the urge to hex him from behind and flee, Remus turned dubiously to the liquid bubbling above the fire and grimaced. The evening sounded bad enough as it was; the alcohol seemed unnecessary.  

Familiar voices carried from the front hallway: Lily and James had arrived. Steeling himself, Remus waited for Sirius’s return with his back turned to the doorway. Soon enough, his host made a reappearance, coming to fetch his wand back. He peered into the kettle and hummed contently. “Should be ready,” he said, flicking the fire out with his wand. He placed his hand on the small of Remus’s back and steered him towards the door. “Alright, then – time to go and socialise!”

Remus swirled on him, horrified. “No! Marlene’s not even here yet!”

“So?” Sirius asked, nonchalant, and guided him into the hall. “Now, remember, not everything they say is meant as an insult—”

“Oh, shuddup,” Remus grumbled, reluctantly following Sirius to where Lily and James were standing in the hallway, shrugging their coats off. At first look, Remus saw that they were both very clearly tired—was that because of their baby or their jobs, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps both.

“Look who’s here!” Sirius said briskly, gesturing to Remus like he had conjured him from a magician’s hat. Lily and James looked up at the same time, and then simultaneously went rigid. Sirius, ever the tactless twat, grinned widely. “Well? Oh, come on, Prongs—at least say hi!”

No words came out of James’s mouth as he stared at Remus disapprovingly. Remus shrank back, retreating like a threatened animal. “It’s okay, Sirius…” he murmured quietly. “I was going to leave anyway.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Sirius said fiercely, grasping his arm and wringing him towards himself again. “Prongs… Remember what we talked about?”

James clenched his jaw and begrudgingly glanced at Remus. “Hello,” he said, stiffly. Anyone standing within a mile’s radius could have been able to tell that it took all of his self-constraint not to lash out on Remus right there. Remus at least appreciated the fact that he wasn’t trying to hide it, surprisingly much as it hurt.

Sirius offered a tight smile, clearly not yet content. “Fine, that’ll do…” he said, nonetheless. “And Remus?”

Remus heaved in a deep breath. “Hi,” he said stoically. It was evident that Sirius was the only one in the whole house who wanted Remus there. He didn’t even want to be there himself! If James and Lily were merely going to glare daggers at him from afar all night, he might as well just leave.

“Great – now that that’s out of the way, shall we move to the den?” Sirius suggested, gesturing elaborately towards the staircase as if he had successfully prevented a war from starting. He pulled Remus with him and together they ascended the stairs, leaving their guests to follow a couple of paces behind.

“I hate you,” Remus murmured as Sirius steered him up the first flight of stairs and into the grand den. “This is the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

“Just try not to look so sour all the time,” Sirius mumbled back. “It’ll only egg them on.”

Once inside the den, he turned around to give another pleased smile to his friends. “Alright, then. I’ll be right back – I think we could all do with some refreshments.”

“Do you need any help with those?” Remus offered quickly, more than ready to exit the room again. Only, Sirius was one step ahead of him, already shaking his head knowingly.

“Nuh-uh. You stay here and keep our lovely guests company. James, tell Remus about that new jerk of a co-worker we got today!”

James seemed reluctant to tell him anything, but he did at least try and look Remus’s way. When he failed to say a word, Lily stepped in to his rescue. “How have you been holding up, Remus?” she asked. It wasn’t exactly a kind question, but at least she didn’t sound disinterested.

“I thought he told you I’d be here tonight,” Remus said awkwardly.

“Well, no, but... it's alright.” Lily smiled wanly. “There’s plenty of room for us all here. Marlene is coming too, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she and Dorcas both…”

“That’s nice.”

Remus nodded, flicking his eyes to James again. He was inspecting a bookcase in rather close detail, running one finger across its dusty surface, as if wishing for the whole thing to collapse on top of him so that he could be excused. Remus sighed, folding his arms protectively. “Listen, James… Can we just have this conversation right now and get on with the evening? You can say what you’re thinking – I promise I won’t get offended.”

James halted and then very slowly turned around to face him. His face was full of hurt. “You’re one of his people,” he said furiously. “You’re friends with Fenrir Greyback, and you expect us to be ok with that?!”  

Remus thought that calling anyone a friend of Fenrir’s was like saying you could touch the Sun if you got close enough, but he couldn’t bother correcting James. Instead, he merely shrugged. “We all have to get by somehow.”

James pointed a shaky finger at him, his voice wavering as he spoke, “I have a son, Remus. A son who’s only a baby and cannot protect himself in any way. So you can’t tell me I’m wrong for resenting anyone who’s heartless enough to even get close to Greyback, let alone stay with him for years!”

“You don’t get what it’s like,” Remus hissed, feeling anger flare inside him. Who was James to tell him what do to? As far as Remus knew, he had been well-off and spoiled all his life. And besides, Remus was already on their side! What more could they ask for?

James looked like he might explode with rage, his face turning red as he stared Remus down. Lily stood awkwardly to the side, not wanting to provoke her husband but not exactly diving to Remus’s aid either. In the end—and perhaps unsurprisingly—it was Sirius who unravelled the tension, returning to the room with a trayful of drinks floating ahead of him.

“Firewhiskeys for everyone!” he announced, stopping short the second he noticed what was going on. His eyes flickered from Remus to James and then to Remus again. “You know, I asked you to keep each other company for five minutes, not get into a debate about politics…”

“Oh, cut it, Black,” James snarled, whirling towards him angrily. “You could have told us he was going to be here!”

“You wouldn’t have come!”

“Exactly!”

“I can go!” Remus snapped, throwing his arms in the air. “Merlin, I didn’t want to be here anyway!”

“No one’s going anywhere!” Sirius commanded, pointing a finger at Remus. He halted, fearing he might get hexed otherwise. “You, stay. James—”

“He’s fraternising with a fucking murderer!” James exclaimed, pointing at Remus too, though much more accusingly. “And you let him stay at your home! What’s gone into you, Sirius?!”

“Oi! We’re all friends here,” Sirius said defensively. Remus wasn’t entirely sure who he meant by ‘all’ – his friends hadn’t even arrived yet. “Stop being such a killjoy, Prongs. Let’s just enjoy our—”

“Oh, you’re unbelievable! You know, I have never claimed to be Remus’s friend—though then again, I’m not the one who’s risking everything I love just to get into someone’s pants…”

Remus’s mouth dropped open, and so did Sirius’s. If he had been angry before, it was nothing compared to what was happening in his chest now. He felt his blood begin to boil, but instead of lashing out at James, Remus clenched his jaw and held his tongue. “That’s really bloody low of you,” he said slowly.

“Yeah, James,” Sirius said, clearly rather offended himself. “Yeah, it really was. Remus has agreed to help me. None of this has anything to do with getting into each other’s pants—and if it does, then we’ve both failed terribly.”

That much was true. They had not slept with each other since that night in Diagon Alley when Sirius was yet to find out about Remus’s true identity. There had been that one kiss when they had finally managed to make one of their bracelets work effectively, but that was it. What was actually going on between them was much more complicated than a simple hook-up. Remus couldn’t even have explained it himself.

James folded his arms defiantly, but even Lily looked like she wanted to hit him upside the head. Sirius jutted his chin towards the doorway. “Let’s have a word, Prongs.”

Begrudgingly, James followed his friend out of the room and into the corridor, though not without first sending Remus an angry glare. Once they were gone, Lily turned to him apologetically. “I’m sorry, Remus,” she said, sounding genuinely bothered. “I won’t lie to you and say that I’m not awfully disappointed in you myself, but you already knew that. James, he… he’s taken this to heart. I think it’s mostly because he fears for Harry’s safety, but I also think that he’d grown to really like you… These sorts of news just aren’t easy to take.”

“I know that,” Remus sighed, rubbing a hand across his flushed face. He felt humiliated and furious. “But Lily… Sirius and I, we haven’t done anything. He was telling the truth – this isn’t about sex or anything like that!”  

“Remus, I know that,” Lily said, chuckling weakly as she came closer and placed her hand on his arm. In a way, it was comforting. “And James knows it too. He’s probably just angry at Sirius for having known about you for so long without telling us… And he’s probably jealous too, in some weird way. In his books, Sirius has always belonged to him.”

“Well, he certainly doesn’t belong to me,” Remus said evasively.

“No, of course not. But I think James feels threatened anyway. I’m sorry that he lashed out on you – it was stupid of him. He doesn’t really hate you as much as he tries to let on.”

Remus huffed a weak laugh. “Thanks,” he said wanly.

James returned shortly, looking like a child that had just been told off by his teacher, with Sirius in tow. He cleared his throat and looked just past Remus’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Remus,” he said stoically. “I know you’ve gone out of your way to help us, and it was wrong of me to say what I did. I know you and Sirius aren’t in this to… you know. Anyway, I was a right twat. I’m sorry.”

Remus looked at Sirius, who was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed proudly over his chest. “Nicely said,” he quipped.

Sirius threw his hands in the air like he hadn’t the slightest clue what Remus was implying. “His words, not mine!” he said, pointing at his friend.  

Turning to James, and much too tired to argue, Remus said, “It’s fine. You don’t have to like me, but the fact is that I have chosen a side. This side. And I could have chosen differently, but I didn’t, and I’m not going to feel bad for choosing the safest option and joining Fenrir when I did. And… that’s over now anyway.”

There was a moment during which James did not react in any way. Remus understood where he was coming from: he had been put against someone who he ought not to trust and then asked to throw away his suspicions. It wasn’t an easy position to be in, especially not as an Auror, and even less so as a father. But, surprising everyone in the room, he finally nodded. “Yeah, okay, Remus.”

“Aw, and all was well,” Sirius cooed, sauntering closer and throwing an arm around both Remus and James’s shoulders. He ruffled their hair fondly. “Right, why don’t we all sit down now and have a nice, civil conversation? I’ll go and find Kreacher and tell him to let Peter and the others inside when they arrive.” With that, he swept out of the room again, yelling as he went, “Kreacher! Get over here, you ol’ piece of shite!”

Remus stared after him, and once he had disappeared around the corner, he sat down with a huff. “I thought they hated each other,” he said offhandedly.

“Oh, they do,” Lily said, sitting down as well. James took the place next to her, still looking wary despite their apparent truce. “I think he’s just trying to make sure he won’t have to leave the three of us alone here again.”

Remus huffed a humourless laugh, twisting his hands in his lap. Luckily for him, Sirius returned only moments later, panting hard as if he had just run the house’s numerous staircases up and down three times. He crashed down next to Remus, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “So… How’re we doing? Where’s my darling godson?”

“With Jenifer,” Lily supplied. “I’m still nervous about leaving him, but then, I think Harry really likes her.”

“That’s good,” Sirius nodded. “And Remus—”

“Sirius? James? Are you up there?”

Sirius’s face lit up, and he was up on his feet in an instant, rushing to the doorway. He leaned out into the corridor and hollered, “Up here, Pete! In the drawing room!” He waited for his friend to come up the stairs and promptly hugged him before reclaiming his seat on the sofa. “Come on in and greet everyone! It’s been a while.”

Peter looked around the room. “Oh, hi, Romulus,” he said, with no small amount of surprise. “Lily, James…”

Remus offered a friendly nod, glancing discreetly at Sirius, who seemed to be holding back laughter. Of course, no one had informed Peter about his real identity as it could hardly be done without revealing the rest of the story too. At this point, telling him didn’t feel ground-breaking to Remus, but then, perhaps the fewer people in the know, the better.

“We’re so glad you could make it, Petey-boy,” Sirius said, reaching out to fondly ruffle his friend’s hair. “I was starting to think I’d have to come and tell Fudge to cut you some slack myself.”

Peter chuckled wanly, folding and unfolding his hands in his lap. Sirius continued to stare at him with narrowed eyes, but Peter paid him no mind. Instead, he looked at James. “How is Harry?” he asked.

James smiled appreciatively. “He’s growing,” he said. “Misses you, of course, but everything’s going well with him.”

“Mm… that’s good to hear.”

Marlene and Dorcas arrived shortly, the sound of their footsteps carrying into the den as they stomped up the staircase. Remus had just enough time to stand up before Marlene entered and locked eyes with him, her mouth dropping open in sheer shock. A second later, she had thrown herself at him, nearly sending them both to the floor. “Remus!” she cried, hugging him so tightly he wheezed. “Oh my god! I—I didn’t know you would be here!” She pulled away and looked at Sirius, half pissed off, half relieved. “You twat! You didn’t tell me you’d invited him!”

Remus glanced at Peter over his shoulder to see whether he had caught Marlene’s careless slip, but it seemed he was undeterred, nursing one of Sirius’s homemade drinks in his hand. Relieved, Remus hugged Marlene again and murmured, “It’s Romulus, actually.”

Marlene went rigid, chancing a look at Peter. “Oh, right…” she said. She pulled away and winced apologetically. “Er… ha, yeah, it’s so good to see you, Romulus… and Lily and James! How’re you doing?”

Remus felt a tug on his sleeve and turned around to meet Sirius’s eye. He patted the spot next to him, reassuringly, and Remus sat down again. His heart was still racing from Marlene’s near-on revelation, and though he was at least happy that his friend was finally there, he couldn’t shake off his frustration entirely. Here he was, sitting with a roomful of people who, apart from one of them, probably hated him with their whole hearts. It didn’t feel fair.

Sirius leaned close to him and muttered, “You’re not mad at James, are you?”

Remus clenched his jaw, staring straight ahead. “A little,” he said, truthfully. “I’m angrier at you for forcing me to be here.”

“Aw, don’t stay that. I’ll make it up to you, just you wait.”

“How?”

Sirius straightened up again, averting his gaze. “You’ll see.”

The rest of the evening went by swiftly enough, and everyone at least managed not to say Remus’s real name aloud again. At some point, he found himself in the kitchen with only Sirius and Marlene for company. The others were still in the den, chatting and catching up.

Marlene sighed loudly as she got herself a glass of water. She put her head on Remus’s shoulder and closed her eyes. “I’m so happy you’re here…”

“Me too,” Remus said, half truthfully. He looked at Sirius, who was busy flicking through that morning’s newspaper. Remus had no idea what he was trying to find.

“You smell clean,” Marlene said suddenly, almost knocking Remus in the chin as she lifted her head. She leaned towards him and sniffed him like a dog. “Oh, my lord! You actually smell good!”

Sirius raised his head, only slightly, and Remus could have sworn his mouth quirked up at the corner. The next moment, he had stood up and was heading towards the doorway. “Oh, well, better check up on the others! Ta-ta!”

Marlene stepped back and looked at Remus suspiciously. He could already feel his neck heating up. “Well?” she demanded. “You sure as hell haven’t been with the pack. I thought you looked better, I just didn’t know why!”

“Marlene, I…”

“Where’ve you been staying? Huh? I know you haven’t been at the Leaky Cauldron – I’ve checked weekly, and even Tom said he hasn’t seen you around in ages!”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Remus admitted. “I haven’t been with the pack, nor have I been staying in Diagon Alley…”

Marlene shrugged aggressively. “Well? Don’t keep me waiting!”

Remus winced. He knew he would have to tell her eventually, hard as it was to admit to his own defeat. Turning on his pack certainly wasn’t something he took pride in; in fact, beneath all the confusion and conflict lay a relentless feeling of guilt. He had done something he had thought he would never have the guts to do, yet he didn’t feel brave in the slightest. Fenrir would never actually write down a list of rules on parchment – he was too crude for that sort of thing – but if he did, utter and interminable loyalty would be at the very top.

“Remus?”

There was only a limited number of things one could be loyal to. Remus could have chosen to devote his life to his pack for eternity—he almost had—but what kind of a person would that have made him? He had defied the odds for long enough already by getting to enjoy the best of both worlds with very few consequences. The compulsion of having to choose between his two realities, unfair as it felt, had been inevitable. Only, he had been too naïve to believe he would never actually have to make the decision. But now he had really done it, and it was time he faced the ramifications.

Marlene looked at him doubtfully. “You’re really starting to scare me,” she whispered.

Remus sighed and prepared himself to tell Marlene everything. Again. The truth was that if he continued thinking that he was still in the process of choosing between the pack and Marlene, he would never get an answer out of himself. But if he looked at it the way it truly was – simply a battle between bad and slightly better – there was really nothing contradictory about it. In the end, it had to be the better one of two terrible options. Quantity over family; a hundred unknown people over a dozen friends.

Tentatively, he looked up at his best friend. “Marlene, I… I’ve been staying with Sirius.”

Saying it aloud didn’t feel in any way relieving—not that he deserved the condolence anyway. All it did was finally make it sink for him: he had been staying with someone who was supposed to be his worst enemy. It was something he could never take back, and it almost felt like the next level of his betrayal. He had merely marched in there and stayed without a second’s hesitation. He could hardly recognise himself.

If a million expression weren’t flickering across Marlene’s face, Remus might have thought she had been frozen by Medusa herself. “Say that again,” she choked out weakly.

“I’ve been here for a week now,” Remus explained. “We’ve been working together to form a plan to stop Fenrir. And I know what you’re thinking – that I’ve always been too stubborn to—why are you looking at me like that?”

Marlene gaped at him. “I think I missed a few steps here.”

“I’m helping him capture Fenrir,” Remus reiterated, less sure of himself now. “I’ve spent a few days here with him, and—”

“You can’t be serious! I thought you two hated each other!”

“Well, hate is a strong word…”

“Remus…”

“We understand each other better now.”

“Oh, do you?”

“Yes! Well, I think so…”

“So he’s convinced you to leave them, then?”

“Not necessarily leave, but… look, maybe I’ve had some strong opinions about certain things before, but Sirius has helped me see the other side of this. I’ve always known Fenrir’s terrible and cruel, but I used to think it wasn’t my problem. But now…”

“And you’re doing this with Sirius of all people?”

“He’s the one who asked me first, and he knows what he’s doing,” Remus said. “I thought you would be happy! You loathe idea of me being around Fenrir! That won’t be a problem anymore.”

“But Remus… are you really ready to do this? I thought you said you were never going to help him!”

For someone who had never failed to voice her distaste over the company Remus kept, Marlene sure seemed to strongly resist the idea of him turning on his pack now. Remus had thought she would scream in elation, but clearly, he had been wrong. It had all happened very quickly for him too, but if he didn’t stop Fenrir, then who would? And if not now, when? They were all going to be forced to pick a side eventually, and there was no doubt in Remus’s mind that Fenrir had already settled on his choice. And now he had too.

“Marls, I have to do it,” he said. “There’s just no other way.”

Marlene tutted sympathetically and pulled him into a hug. “Okay, love,” she whispered. “Then I’m glad—you’re doing the right thing.”

Remus squeezed her tightly for a moment. “Oh, and Remus?” she added, finally pulling away.

“Yeah?”

“I just want you to know what you’re doing. Sirius… he’s charming, we all know that much. Just don’t let him blind you. I know it’s none of my business what’s going on between you two, but you used to be so set on the pack being your family. I just don’t want you to jump headfirst into deep water. I’m afraid you’ll drown.”

Remus huffed. “Why does everyone think we’re shagging?!”

Marlene looked at him amusedly. “You’re not?”

“No!” Remus gushed, horrified. “God, no! Marlene, that’s not what this is about!”

“Well, I know that much,” Marlene tutted. “I’m sorry! I just thought that since… ugh, whatever. I’ll take your word for it.”

Remus buried his face in his hands, groaning. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Marlene. It’s like one moment everything’s fine and I’m doing the right thing, and the next, I’ve no fucking clue what I’ve got myself into.”

Marlene smiled softly. “That’s okay, Remus. Just follow your instinct – you know what’s best for you.”

Remus nodded, though he could not agree.  

***

By the time their guests were at the door and leaving, Remus was feeling exhausted beyond measure. He had taken to accepting every drink Sirius offered him, if only to keep himself busy, but the effects had mostly worn off already. He wanted nothing more than to go to sleep and wake up to a new day so that he could finally return to his pack, which he had neglected for so long.

He retreated into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water while Sirius saw his friends out. Knowing that he would see Altair tomorrow gave him a sense of security. Knowing that in a week’s time Fenrir would be unable to hurt anyone made him feel hopeful. All he needed was for their plan to work out seamlessly.

In the hallway, the front door banged shut. Sirius strode into the kitchen moments later, looking tired but content. He stopped in the middle of the room and placed his hands on his hips. “That was nice, wasn’t it?” he asked cheerily.

Remus shrugged, indifferent. “If you say so.”

Sirius looked at him like a parent might look at their child, head tilted to one side knowingly. “You made it dull for yourself, just so you know.”

“Oh, yeah, it was all me,” Remus snarled, sloshing water onto the floor as he waved his hand about furiously. He set the glass down on the counter and folded his arms. “Never mind that James outright called me a monster—it was silly of me to feel offended!”

“No one called you a monster,” Sirius said. “That’s all in your head.”

As often happened, Remus’s temper rose from zero to a hundred in milliseconds. “Oh, pardon me—I must have imagined it all!” he hissed. “James was completely civil from the get-go! And what about you needing me just to get your end off?! That must have all been in my head too!”

Sirius sighed, stepping forth with his hands calmingly in front of him. “Yes, I’ll be the first to admit that that was a ridiculous thing to claim. But he has a child, Remus—a literal baby—and you know about Fenrir’s reputation…”

“Of course I do! It’s all people ever judge me based on!”

“Yeah, maybe, but you know you’re good, Remus! When have you ever cared about what others think of you?” 

“Since forever, Sirius!” Remus cried out, feeling his anger tip over the edge. He was shaking, all of the hurt unravelling at once. He regretted having stayed for the evening. “Of course I care,” he repeated, “It’s impossible not to!”

Sirius clamped his mouth shut, surrendering. Remus sniffed and swept his nose on the back of his shirt sleeve. He hadn’t mean to lash out, but it felt good to know that someone was listening. “Of course,” Sirius said quietly. “I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry. But you are good—you’re no monster. Even if you sometimes fail to see that yourself. And James… it was my fault for inviting him. I didn’t expect him to be so tactless.”

Remus looked away. He didn’t want to admit it, but perhaps Sirius was right: all Remus wanted was to have the same possibilities as everyone else, but it was hard to forget what being a werewolf meant. Though it was only a fraction of his life, sometimes he was a monster. It was just the hand he had been dealt.  

“Forget it,” he sighed. The harm was already done, and he shouldn’t have expected anything less. “It’s not hard to understand where he’s coming from. It’s just the things he said… it’s crazy, right? He can’t really think that way. And Marlene—even she thought we’re going at it!”

Sirius nodded quietly, turning to the stove to heat the kettle. He worked slowly and without using his wand, pulling out tea leaves and digging two large mugs from the cupboard above the sink. “Do you really think it would be that insane?” he asked then, back still turned, “What they said?”

Remus looked at the back of his head and frowned. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Sirius shrugged. “You know, about… you and me.”

“About us sleeping together when no one’s looking?” Remus clarified incredulously. “Are you out of your mind, Sirius?”

Sirius looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “Subtle,” he said, turning around to lean his back against the counter, “But no, Romulus, that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“We haven’t—we—that was one time, and it was ages ago! You were supposed to be angry at me about it—I practically tricked you into doing something very, very stupid!”

“Not that,” Sirius tutted. “I meant that… do you think it would be absolutely nuts if we, on some level… liked each other?”

Remus laughed in sheer shock. “You’ve got to be joking, Sirius. You can’t possibly feel that way!”

“What? You think that just because you’re a werewolf and I’m an Auror, it would be entirely unacceptable?”

“That’s exactly what I think! And that it’s impossible!”

“But why?”

“Why? Because you work a nine-to-five at the Ministry of Magic, Sirius, and I live in the bloody woods! Because you’re trained to catch dark wizards and I associate with one! Because—because you’re you and I’m me!”

“You say it’s impossible,” Sirius said, pushing himself upright and walking to Remus slowly, “but I say you’re wrong. I know it’s possible.”

Remus’s mouth went dry. There was no way on Earth that what Sirius was telling him was true. Someone like him couldn’t possibly have fallen for someone like Remus – it just didn’t happen. They were simply too different; cut from different woods, moulded in different moulds. There wasn’t an atom in their bodies that connected them, and there never would be. Just talking about it was like adding nails to their own coffins.

“You don’t mean what you’re saying,” he said. “There’s no way.”

Sirius spread his arms wide. “I’m not having you on, Remus. I’m not going to chase after you if you claim not to feel the same, but you’re not even giving me a chance here to prove my point.”

“A chance?” Remus gushed. “Merlin, I don’t know how this has happened…”

“One attempt,” Sirius said, crowding closer, “That’s all I ask.”

“I don’t…”

“Just… trust me. Close your eyes.”

Remus did, hesitantly. It was simply ridiculous. Perhaps he had felt attracted to Sirius when they first met, but that wasn’t why he'd chosen to approach him. And so much had happened since then anyway. When it came to feelings, they had been pushed aside to make space for everything else. They had been working together because it was the only way either of them was ever going to get anywhere, romance be damned.

But perhaps he had been living in his own head, because what happened next caught him completely off guard. A hand curled around the back of his neck, and then soft lips met his. Sirius kissed him carefully, and although he knew he ought to, Remus didn’t stop him. His heart was pounding giddily in his chest, and soon enough, his hands found their way to cradle Sirius’s face. It was bliss and lasted far too short of a time. Sirius pulled away and stared at him quietly. “There,” he whispered.

Remus deflated. “You’re nuts. It could never work out. You’d lose your job.”

“Asking the Minister of Magic for permission wasn’t my initial idea, actually.” 

“You can’t be serious about this.”

Sirius gave a resigned smile and shrugged. “I’ve made my move now,” he said, stepping back and fetching his tea mug from the counter. He poured it to the brim and turned to go. “It’s up to you what you decide to do with it.” And then he headed for the door and, not looking back, said, “Good night, Remus.”

Chapter Text

The pack did not receive him well the next day. Remus knew he smelled different and looked different. He was cleaner and fed well, and because his shoulders were still weighed down by guilt, he couldn’t bring himself to look the others in the eyes. As he walked into the cave the pack now inhabited, he realised with no small amount of dread that he had returned for the last time. The air felt different.  

That night, he and Altair sat outside long after the rest had gone to bed. The sky was clear and displayed a beautiful arrangement of stars, leaving them bathing in a silvery light. Altair was tossing pinecones at the trees ahead of them, occasionally hitting a trunk with a faint thump. Remus lay with his eyes shut, wanting to soak in everything as if it were for the last time – but he didn’t want to admit that it was. The forest smelled like home.  

“Remember when we talked about freedom?” he asked quietly after a while. Altair had now taken to idly pulling at the grass next to his feet, every now and then flicking a few hays in Remus’s direction. Remus knew he was doing it to tease him, but he merely chose to embrace it. This was how he wanted to remember his time with his pack: lounging around in quiet forests with people he loved. He didn’t want to remember the cruelties and the hesitation. He would only take good memories with him, as hypocritical as it sounded now that he had made his decision. Because of him, they wouldn't be making any more of those. 

“I do,” Altair said, stopping his grass-picking to lower himself onto his elbows. He dropped his head back and sighed. “I said I wanted to be a wolf. You said you wanted to live in a bubble.”  

Remus chuckled quietly. “I never said that,” he smiled. “But you’re right. And do you still want to be a wolf?”  

“Nah,” Altair shrugged. “I much preferred that idea about birds. Not even the sky’s the limit to them.”  

“Yeah… Only, they’ve got brains the size of a peanut, probably.”  

Altair hummed. “Yeah. So nothing would change for you, at least. You’d just grow wings and start pecking away at things.”  

“Ha ha,” Remus scoffed, unable to help his laughter. He folded his arms behind his head and stared up at the starry sky, smiling. “I still can’t tell you everything,” he said, “but when this is all over, I promise you you’ll be free. We both will.”  

He could tell Altair was smiling, thinking about it. “Like birds?” he asked.  

“Yeah,” Remus whispered. “Like birds.”  

*** 

On Wednesday, moments before it was time for Remus to go and meet up with Sirius in Diagon Alley, Fenrir requested they take a walk together. He simply sauntered into the caves as Remus was tossing his backpack over his shoulder, ready to go and fetch the bracelets.

“Not leaving again, are you, Lupin?” the older werewolf demanded.  

“Only to return something,” Remus lied. “I’ll be back tonight.”  

“I see.” The older wizard gestured towards the doorway determinedly. “Walk with me.”  

Having no choice, Remus followed him out into the forest and through the densely growing trees. Summer was just around the corner, which felt somewhat surreal to him. It felt as though Christmas had been mere weeks ago, not to mention the dark days of winter.

“Are we going to move places before the moon?” he asked, as casually as he could. 

Fenrir hummed thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think so. It’s finally warm enough to stay in the caves again. Haven’t you missed it?”  

“Not really,” Remus said. Even if it was something so harmless, it felt good to finally tell the truth. “Not much of a fan of caves, myself. They’re not very homely.”  

“It’s all about the atmosphere, Lupin,” Fenrir said. He was walking ahead of Remus, slowly but surely, hands swinging idly on either side of his body.  

They walked for some more minutes, until Fenrir suddenly came to a halt. The trees grew even thicker where they were standing now, making it hard to see more than a hundred feet in each direction. Remus regretted having agreed to come. “What do you know about Sirius Black?” Fenrir asked, turning to him so that their noses were nearly touching. Relieved to see that he didn’t look angry, Remus lifted his shoulders noncommittally.  

“Nothing more than what I’ve read from the papers,” he lied. “I know that he’s the Head of the Werewolf Capture Unit.”  

“Yes, that’s right,” Fenrir snarled. “And he’s got much too comfortable in his position, I’ll tell you that much. Have you read any of what he’s been writing in the papers these past few months?”  

Remus shook his head. It was half true, actually: he had seen the articles, but he had chosen not to read them. He would rather remain oblivious to it all.  

“I’ll tell you, then,” Fenrir spat. “The bloody poser claims not to support the Legislation. The one your father vouched for.”  

“No need to remind me… But how’s that a bad thing? The Legislation’s shit, we all know that.”  

“Yes, but Black’s a hypocrite. If he wanted change, he would strive for it.”  

“He’s only one man. It would take a lot more than that to change the Legislation.”  

“Know if he has any family left?” Fenrir asked, ignoring him entirely.  

“No,” Remus said.  

“No, he hasn’t?”  

“No, I don’t know.”  

“Shame,” Fenrir sighed, his mouth tugging up at one corner. “I rather think he deserves a little lesson…”  

Remus’s stomach turned nastily. “You ought to be careful,” he said, before he could stop himself. “You haven’t exactly been discreet lately. Just… someone might catch onto you.”  

Fenrir raised one bushy eyebrow, almost impressed. “Is that a threat, Lupin?”  

“No,” Remus said composedly, “It’s not a threat – it’s a fact. Sooner or later, there will be someone who wants to devote their life to capturing you, Fenrir. And if you keep doing what you do, you might slip and fall. And it’s much easier to catch someone when they’re down on their arse in the mud.”  

“Ah… Perhaps you’re right, Lupin—but I’ve never been one for much caution.”  

Remus nodded agreeably. In an earlier time and place, hearing those words may have caused him to feel anxious or frightened. But now, it made him feel secure. It was how they were going to win.  

*** 

The Leaky Cauldron was busy that afternoon. Remus sat at the counter and waited anxiously, clutching his backpack as if it was the only thing he could trust. The clock struck two; Sirius was supposed to be there already. All around him, people were coming and going, but he didn’t recognise anyone.  

“Psst,” a voice said right by his ear. He jumped, toppling his Butterbeer.  

“Merlin!” he hissed, turning around to smack the air. By the sounds of it, he managed to hit Sirius upside the head. “You could’ve bloody announced yourself first!”  

“That’s what I was doing! And stop being so dramatic, you’re drawing attention! I’m trying to be discreet here.”  

“Oh, yeah, because meeting in Diagon Alley during rush hour is so bloody discreet,” Remus murmured, trying to hide the fact he was basically speaking to empty air. He was glad the passers-by were all too focussed on themselves.  

“We’re hiding in plain sight,” Sirius replied. “Now, if you could pretend you’re going to the loo… What? I’ve got to give these things to you somehow!”  

Grumbling to himself, Remus pushed himself upright and headed as casually as he could towards the toilets. All the while, he could feel Sirius’s presence right behind him. He slipped into one of the stalls, holding the door open long enough for Sirius to follow after.  

Once inside, the Auror threw the invisibility cloak off himself and combed a hand through his hair. “Phew, it’s hot under there,” he huffed, already beckoning for Remus to hand over his bag. “Okay, so is the plan clear now? Do you know what you need to do?”  

“Yeah,” Remus said nervously, watching as Sirius transferred the portkeys from his own bag into Remus’s. “I’m just worried something will go wrong. There are quite a few factors, you know. And quite a few of them aren’t dependent on us. Most of them aren’t.”  

Sirius gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s going to work. We’ve a solid plan.” He zipped up the backpack and handed it back to Remus. “There you go. Make sure no one sees them beforehand.”  

Remus hesitated. Something had been brewing in his mind for days now. “Sirius, if… if something goes wrong, you’re to save yourself. The same goes for Lily and James – make sure they know. I don’t want any of you getting hurt for me.”  

Sirius shook his head bravely. “Don’t worry, Remus,” he said. “Nothing will go wrong.”  

*** 

On the day of the full moon, Remus was buzzing with nervous energy. He took it out by turning to Altair, begging him to go hunting with him. It was the only way he could get his thoughts someplace nicer. They strolled about the forest, not really focussed on actually hunting any of the animals lurking around them. Remus found his breathing calming down with every step he took further away from their camp.  

“It’s a beautiful day,” Altair said, leisurely, “but the night is going to be cold.”  

Remus nodded. You’ll be free tomorrow.  

He had not disclosed any more information to Altair than he needed to. No one but him had any idea about what was going to happen in the morning, and he wanted it to stay that way – for if something went wrong, it would only be his own fault. Fenrir would seek out the one responsible for it all, and there was nothing Altair or Karina or anyone could do to get him off Remus’s back. It was his own secret plan, one that didn't include Sirius.  

It was his plan to keep his friends safe, no matter what.  

*** 

Even the wolf sensed that the night was special: it was its last night with its pack, whole and united. They roamed the edge of the forest together, running past a sleeping village. None of them stopped. If the wolf hadn’t been so caught up with playing around with its friends, it might have looked up and noticed that the sky was clear of clouds that night. The stars had come out to greet them, unique constellations dancing happily on their black canvas.  

*** 

When Remus woke up, his mind was so preoccupied with their plan that he hardly registered his pain. He glanced up at the sky and noted that the first part of their scheme had proved successful: there was a wavering dome of magic surrounding them. Lily had charmed the area so that no one would be able to apparate away until she allowed it. It was a cruel thing, taking away their one escape route, but it was necessary for the success of the plan.  

Altair had been right – the morning was brisk. They didn’t stay outside long, eager to go and warm themselves up by the fire. Together, they sauntered into the cave. Remus got dressed and hoisted his backpack over his shoulder. Then he slipped into the smaller room through a crack in the stone, where they stored their food. He waited a beat, then took a deep breath and barged back into the main room. “Someone’s been here!” he cried loudly. “Someone’s been inside!”  

Fenrir looked at him sharply. “Everyone, out!” he growled.  

It created havoc: everyone rushed around, hurriedly finishing getting dressed and collecting their belongings. Remus shoved a hand into his backpack and began the third stage of their plan. His heart was racing vigorously. “Altair!” he called out desperately. The other man turned to look at him. “Here, take this.” Remus gave him a wristband – the very first one of them to be handed out. He nodded reassuringly. “Please, just put it on right now. And don’t take it off.”  

He waited for Altair to nod before rushing to search for the others. There were five people he still needed to give a portkey to. That meant seven people would be left without one.  

By the time they had all stormed out of the cave, he only had two bracelets left. He slipped one around his own wrist and ran to Karina with the last one. “Karina,” he panted, “Take this.”  

His friend frowned, squinting down at the band in his palm. “What is it?” she asked.  

“Just… put it on. It’ll keep you safe, I promise.” Remus showed her his own similar wristband. She met his eye and nodded.  

“Fine,” she said, slipping the bracelet on. She inspected it curiously. “Are you giving them to everyone?”  

Remus breathed out weakly. “I think you know the answer.”  

Karina smiled sadly, but she did nod. “Okay, Remus. Thank you.”  

There were seven Aurors waiting for them outside.  

Remus was moving beside Fenrir when the older werewolf suddenly came to a halt. He looked around himself, slowly, the veins in his neck straining. “Everyone, run!” he shouted. “We’ve been ambushed!”  

Around them, people attempted to apparate, but with futile efforts. There was general confusion in the air, and while everyone had by then noticed the threat looming around them, they were all weak from the full moon and slow to react.  

It was Sirius who fired the first spell, directly at Fenrir. It sent the werewolf stumbling to the ground. From there, Remus wasn’t sure what was happening. All he could see were flashes of light; all he could hear were dismayed shouts and frightened screams. Someone tried to grab his arm, but the wristband sent the attacker jolting backwards. Full of adrenaline, Remus almost smiled. At least the bracelets were working.  

Then, suddenly, the air changed. The early autumn breeze blew through Remus’s hair. Lily had lifted the barrier – they must have caught everyone. At the same time, the portkeys activated, and people began disappearing from around him. Quickly, he took his own wristband off and threw it on the ground. He tried to locate Altair, but he was nowhere to be seen. He must have already got to safety.  

Seven seconds. That was how long Remus counted in his head for, and then he was alone in the forest. Everyone was gone: half of them caught, the other half free. He felt empty in the deadly silence surrounding him, more unnatural than a forest ever should feel. He, too, apparated away.  

Chapter Text

He waited at Grimmauld Place, just as he and Sirius had agreed beforehand. The anticipation felt tormenting; for hours, he sat on the floor in the front hallway, too nervous to even move. From what it had seemed like, everything had gone perfectly. Their plan had been seamless, just as they had thought. But he couldn’t rest until he heard the words from Sirius’s mouth.  

The image of the forest after everyone had apparated away haunted him. It was hard, loving the same people you hated more than life. At least with Altair and Karina, he felt truly sorry. The others he felt bad for, but at the same time, it was hard to sympathise with someone who might take pride in killing another. The world would be a better place with all of them locked up, even if he used to be one of them.  

Used to be. Perhaps it hadn’t truly sank in for him yet, the harsh fact he no longer had a pack. And the worst part was, he was still a werewolf. It was a question he had been avoiding as best as he could – in the end, by betraying his pack, had he lost more than he had gained?  

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he could finally hear the door being pushed open. He looked up in relief, glad to no longer be alone in the big, quiet house. Sirius stood in the doorway, looking flushed and tired – but he wasn’t smiling.  

Remus clambered up to his feet. “You caught them all, right?” he asked urgently. “And no one was hurt?”  

“We caught them,” Sirius confirmed. The corner of his mouth tilted up, carefully. “It went surprisingly well – we managed to catch them off guard.” He stepped further in and began taking off his coat. He hung it on a hook and halted, turning towards Remus very slowly. “But Remus… There’s something you ought to know.”  

It was the tone of his voice that made shivers creep up Remus’s spine. It was exactly what he imagined people meant when they referred to the calm before the storm. Sirius was quiet as a hunter on the move, but he was about to pull the trigger.  

“I don’t want to know,” Remus pleaded.  

“I promise you, Remus, you do,” Sirius said, carefully. “It’s Altair—they caught him.” And after, his mouth kept moving, but it was as if Remus had been put inside an insulated capsule. The words never reached him, left somewhere in the dark space between them.  

“Remus…?” Sirius said tentatively, after long moments had passed. “Remus, are you—hey!”

Remus began falling towards the floor, but a pair of arms caught him at the very last second. Sirius crouched beside him, looking at him worriedly. “Hey, are you with me? Remus?”

Something clicked inside Remus’s head, and the next thing he knew, he was pinning Sirius against the floor. His ears were still ringing, his hands acting of their own accord as they twisted into the front of his companion’s shirt. Sirius looked terrified. “Give me one reason not to kill you right here,” Remus growled, pressing harder with his hand. Sirius gasped, his own hands flying to Remus’s fingers to pry them off. “You deserve to be fucking dead!”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Sirius choked out, clasping tightly onto his wrist. “Hngh—let me go! Merlin, you’re fucking—choking—me.”  

Remus’s hands began shaking, but he wouldn’t let go. Was this really what their weeks of preparation had led to? Had he truly abandoned his pack only for Altair to get caught? They had been so sure of themselves…  

A sharp kick caught him in the stomach, making him wheeze and bend over in pain. He finally let go of Sirius, and for a few moments, they both chased their breaths. When Remus straightened up again, fury coursing through his veins, Sirius scooted backwards warily. “Killing me won’t help you in any way,” he said hoarsely, rubbing at the base of his throat. “I know you’re angry, Remus, but there was nothing I could’ve done—”  

“Do you hear what you’re saying?!” Remus shouted, slamming his palm against the wall. It stung, but he did it again. “He had a fucking bracelet! You were supposed to save him, Sirius!”  

“If he had had the bracelet, he would be safe now!” Sirius barked back. “You’re the one who handed them out! I only did what we agreed on!”  

“How was he captured, then?!”  

“Something must have gone wrong! There were spells flying all over—you were there, you saw it yourself!”  

“One of the bracelets must have been faulty,” Remus insisted. “One of them must have stopped working, or maybe it didn’t activate at all—are you sure we tested all of them? I gave it directly to him—I know I did!”  

Sirius shook his head cluelessly. “We tested them all, Remus. You know we did. But listen, we caught the others—”  

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” Another wave of rage overcame Remus, and before he could stop himself, he had stood up and pulled Sirius with him, slamming him against the wall of the hallway. A painting swung on its nail and then dropped to the floor with a clank. “I don’t fucking care about the others!” he shouted. “Altair was the only one I needed free! And now he’s held captive with the others?! He’s innocent—he wouldn’t hurt a fly!”   

Sirius wrung himself free again. “Then he won’t be punished,” he said, sternly. Remus took another step towards him, but he merely held his hand up to stop him. “They’re facing a trial, and if he truly is innocent, he won’t be put into Azkaban.”  

“But he is going to have to announce himself to the register,” Remus gritted.  

“Yes, but that’s only a good thing. It’s better that we know where he is during full moons – that way, if something happens, he won’t be a suspect—”  

“But he’s so young,” Remus said, more to himself than Sirius. His cheeks were already wet with tears. “He won’t ever get to be free, like he wanted to.” Sirius clamped his mouth shut, looking rather uncomfortable. Remus tacked on, “He doesn’t have anyone, Sirius. He has no family or friends, nor a home. The pack was all he had, and now that that’s gone, and he doesn’t even have his freedom…”  

“I’m sorry, Remus, but there’s nothing either of us can do anymore! It’s not like his life is ruined – he just has to spend his full moons in a safely guarded space now. He can do it at home if the space he uses fills the requirements—”

“Did you not hear what I just said?” he snapped. “He has no home! He has no place to go! I promised him I’d always be there for him—he was the one person I wanted to get out of there without him being found out, and now he’s the only one who can’t keep living his life the way he wanted to!”

“You can’t blame yourself,” Sirius tried, but the lack of genuine empathy in his voice made Remus’s blood boil. This was more of a victory to him than a loss. “These things always come with risks, we both knew that when we started.”  

“I promised him he wouldn’t be harmed,” Remus insisted, his voice breaking. Sirius reached towards him, but he stepped away, grumbling, “Don’t touch me! I fucked up, and so did you, and Lily, and James. And I’m never going to forgive you, or myself, for messing up Altair’s entire life!”  

“You didn’t mess up his entire life! It’s unlikely he would have stayed with the pack forever, right? Right? You said he wouldn’t hurt a fly, and it’s not like someone who’s kind like that would want to live their entire life like he has until now, out in the woods, all dirty and estranged from civilisation—”  

“You know nothing about being a werewolf,” Remus interrupted him, coldly. The pain was starting to numb, and the anger, but he couldn’t feel anything else, either. Especially not sympathy towards the man who stood before him. “You know nothing about what it is like to be looked down on by everyone. You know nothing about what it’s like to run around a forest, feeling like you’re completely free.

“And I do wish I’d never been bitten, but I have never, ever felt more at peace than as a wolf with my pack. You may not realise it, Sirius, but I’d rather that than live what you call a normal life, with the exception of having to hide myself month and fight my own mind in a room that is far too small for an animal, let alone a human being! I would rather die than live the rest of my days dreading those nights!”

Sirius had turned his gaze towards his feet, as if waiting for words to pop up from the carpet like worms from soil after rain. But nothing did, so he remained silent.  

“Altair joined the pack when he was twenty,” Remus continued into the eerie silence. “He had lost all his friends because none of them wanted to be acquaintances with a werewolf. His family disowned him when he was old enough to survive on his own, and unlike you, he didn’t have another place to go. He had no money, no family left, and no chance of getting a job because of what he was. And now you have the audacity to tell me that we did not just completely fuck up the rest of his life.”  

Sirius looked up again, finally. “Then I’ll come up with a way to help him get back on his feet,” he offered, feigning chivalry. “Then maybe he can get a flat, and... and find a job somewhere—not everyone cares what you are as long as you do what you’re asked to. And then he will have a life that at least somewhat resembles that of a—of a non-infected wizard.”

Remus shook his head. “You’re only digging yourself deeper. I already told you, that’s not the life he wants. You don’t bloody know half of it.”  

Sirius sighed. “You’re right, but I’m only trying to help. I know we fucked up, but we caught so many dangerous wizards who have been on the run for ages! Greyback is now behind bars, at least until his hearing, and that alone gives me such peace of mind that I can’t even describe it to you. And I really do mean it, Remus – if Altair is innocent, then he has nothing to worry about. Being an unregistered werewolf is illegal, but it’s not enough to get you a ticket to Azkaban. I promise you.”  

Remus stood still for a moment, then promptly crouched down, burying his face in his hands. He groaned loudly, the sound echoing around the still dark corridor. Neither of them had even thought about turning the torches on. “I should have told him to stay away,” he said. “I should have made sure he wasn’t there in the first place... And now he’s somewhere inside the Ministry building, probably waiting to...” He stopped himself, lifting his head in realisation. “Sirius.”  

“What?”  

He looked up at the other man, his heart beating vigorously. “Where are they going to put him to wait? He—he’s going to Azkaban anyway, isn’t he? Even though he’s innocent?!” He stood up again. “They’re going to lock him up until it can be proven that he has nothing to do with the attacks, and—you liar!”  

He pulled his wand out of his pocket, but Sirius wasn’t stupid – he already had his own wand lifted and aimed directly at Remus’s throat. “No, Remus,” he said, slowly, “I took care of it, okay? They’ve got a group of Aurors waiting for them there, and I told them to use Veritaserum if needed. James knows about the wristbands. He’ll see Altair’s and know that he’s not supposed to be there.” His eyes flitted to Remus’s wand, which was pointed at his heart. “Now, can you please put that down?”  

“No.”  

“Okay. But they won’t ship him off to Azkaban. He’ll fill up the registration form, and then he’ll be free.”  

“Free,” Remus echoed, dryly.  

“You know what I mean.” Sirius lowered his own wand and then waited for Remus to do the same. He did, although reluctantly. Sirius looked at him hesitantly. “Are you sure you gave him one?”  

“He was the first one I gave one to. I’m sure of it.”  

“Do you think he lost it, then? Dropped it somewhere, maybe?”  

Remus shook his head impatiently. “No, he couldn’t have. They were tight enough to stay on anyone’s wrist—you made them, you know what they were like! There’s no way he could have dropped it without noticing it.” 

“Then... I don’t know what happened. We did everything like we planned.”  

Remus sniffed, the anger making an expected return. “Where are they?” he asked.  

“What—?”  

“Where are they? You have to tell me, Sirius. Where have they put them?”  

“They’re still at the Ministry, I would assume, but I don’t know if—”  

Remus didn't stay to listen. He had the benefit of Sirius’s shock on his side: it took him a total of fifteen seconds to get to the door and wrench it open.  

“Incarcerous!”  

He fell to the floor with a loud thump, although perhaps he should have expected that Sirius wouldn’t let him go so easily. The door swung shut again, and then the Auror was standing above him.  

“Let me free,” Remus gritted.  

“What were you going to do, just walk into the Ministry building? They would have bloody arrested you for trespassing.”  

Remus twisted this way and that, trying to free himself. He was reminded of that morning in the forest, when Sirius had caught him for the first of many times. He felt a little embarrassed, merely lying there, but every other emotion was drowned out by anger.  

“Let me go!”  

“You’re not going anywhere,” Sirius said stiffly, crouching to come closer to him. He shook his head, slowly. “There’s nothing you can do right now. You can’t apparate to the Ministry, and getting in without a visitor’s pass is downright impossible. You’ll only cause yourself more harm.”  

“Then what am I supposed to do?! I can’t just sit here and do nothing!”  

“Let me take care of it.” 

“How?”  

Sirius stood up again, regarding him calculatingly. “Promise me you won’t run off?”  

Remus scowled at him. “I promise.”  

“Yeah?”  

“Just let me go!”  

The binds around his wrists and ankles disappeared, and he clambered up as fast as he could. He faced Sirius, wanting to sock him in the face. He needed to get out of there.

“He’ll be fine,” Sirius assured him.  

“I’ll go to The Leaky Cauldron. Spend a few nights there.”  

The other man frowned. “What? You can just stay here.”  

“No, Sirius, I can’t. I need some space. I need to be able to think.”  

“I can’t let you go. How do I know you won’t attempt to get inside the Ministry?”  

“You’ll just have to trust me,” Remus said, a little pettily. He still wasn’t sure if Sirius fully did. It was unlikely, but he was still allowed to have his freedom. Sirius couldn’t keep him at Grimmauld Place forever.  

“Why not stay here?”  

“I said, I need some space.”  

Sirius bit his lip, contemplating. It was clear he didn’t want Remus wandering in the outside world on his own. Perhaps he thought there were too many risks; too many ways he could fuck things up for the both of them.  

“Is this because you’re angry with me?”  

“Yes,” Remus said, “And no. I just can’t be here, especially not with you.”  

“But—”  

“It’s taking all my self-control not to hex you right now. Just so you know.”  

Sirius deflated a little. “Fine. If you have to go, then I guess I can’t stop you. But Remus, you have to promise me you won’t do anything stupid, or speak to anyone you don’t know. Don’t go out on your own. And whatever you do, don’t even think about raiding the Ministry.”  

Remus almost laughed. “I can’t do this right now.”  

“You have to promise me.”  

“I don’t have to promise you anything, Black.”  

“I’m not asking for me,” Sirius insisted, “I’m asking for you. For Altair. You intervening would only make things harder for everyone.”  

Remus sighed, knowing there was some truth to what he was saying. He shrugged, relenting. “I won’t try and get inside the Ministry.”  

“And...?”  

“I won’t put myself at risk. Or you. Or anyone for that matter.”  

Sirius nodded, contented at last. “Alright.”  

“Alright.” He turned to go, but then a hand landed on his shoulder, stopping him. He halted but did not turn back around.  

“Remus, I’m sorry. I’ll fix it, I promise.”  

Remus nodded, though he wasn’t sure how he felt about making or accepting any more promises. They were beginning to feel empty.  

He left the house, unable to bear to stay a moment longer. He knew Sirius did not fully believe him or his intentions, but what he had said was true – Remus wasn’t going to go to the Ministry of Magic, because the chances of him actually getting inside without proper planning were non-existent. But if Altair couldn’t get out with the help of Sirius and his colleagues, he was ready to do anything.  

*** 

“Remus? I know you’re in there – just let me in, pretty please?” Sirius knocked loudly, for what felt like the hundredth time within ten minutes. “I get that you’re sad, but sulking alone in your room won’t do anyone any good. We’ll figure out a way to get him out, okay?”  

Days had passed, but Altair remained imprisoned. Sirius claimed to have tried every trick he could, but apparently there wasn’t enough evidence yet of the younger werewolf’s innocence. Remus wanted to stay positive and believe everything would turn out well in the end, but he was starting to lose hope. It was hard not to.  

He finally rose to his feet from where he had been sitting on the floor in a foetus position for what must have been hours, to the sound of Sirius’s never-ending bangs. An invisible hand had been strangling him for days now. In his feverish dreams, the hand belonged to Altair. When he was awake, it was his own.  

He padded across the room tiredly and prepared himself to fall into pieces again. His eyes were already puffy from helplessly sobbing for hours on end, and his nose was running in a very unattractive way. He didn’t know how much time had passed.  

He grabbed the doorhandle and opened the door.  

He looked to his right, where Sirius was standing at the next door over, his knuckles raised mid-knock. His eyes met Remus’s for a brief second, before flicking to the number on the door before him, then back to Remus’s. “That bastard,” he muttered, shaking his head exasperatedly. With a few strides, he was standing in front of Remus. “Tom told me you’d switched to seventy-three. Is this seventy-three?” He gestured angrily to the mahogany number 75 adorning the wall beside Remus’s door.  

Remus shook his head, faintly. “No.”  

Sirius looked at him with sympathy. “Can I come in? I know you’re angry with me, but I’d like to talk to you about what happened.”  

Remus sighed and hesitantly stepped aside to let Sirius past him and into his mess of a motel room. He looked ashamedly at the lamp thrown on the floor and the chair he’d knocked over in frustration. He apologised for the mess, but Sirius merely waved him off.  

Before Remus could even sit down on the crumpled bedsheets, Sirius launched into explanation. He had set himself right in front of Remus and was looking at him apologetically. “I don’t know what happened, Remus. I swear we did everything perfectly. I thought the wristbands would be secure, but one must’ve malfunctioned, or—”  

Remus’s eyes stung. “It doesn’t matter anymore, does it? He’s locked up, and you can’t get him out.”  

“I’m trying, Remus. I really am.”  

“I need to be alone, Sirius.”  

Sirius eyed the broken glass on the floor, the furniture thrown upside down. Remus knew how bad it looked, but he wasn’t going to hurt himself.  

“Please,” he whispered.  

“Okay,” Sirius sighed. “Okay, fine. But you know you can come stay with me, right? If you need some company—or even if you don’t. It’s a big house, you don’t have to see me if you don’t want to.” 

Remus shook his head. Sirius looked disappointed, but he didn’t argue the matter any further. It wasn’t that Remus wasn’t grateful for the offer – he just couldn’t live in a house like that, doing nothing all day, when he knew that Altair’s situation was all his fault. He couldn’t loiter around, pretending to live a nice life. It was much easier, rotting away in this sorry room.  

Unexpectedly, Sirius stepped forth and enveloped him in a hug. How he was willing to even touch Remus in the state he was in was beyond him, but it felt comforting, nonetheless. He let his body go slack, feeling both their heartbeats, Sirius’s slow and his rapid. Suddenly, he didn’t want to let go.  

Sirius stayed with him for long minutes, not loosening his grip until Remus reluctantly pulled away. He looked anywhere but Sirius’s eyes, feeling his skin prickle, his cheeks turning red. “Sorry,” he murmured.  

“Nothing to apologise for,” Sirius said.  

“Thank you for... helping.”  

“I promised I would.” 

For a while, they both remained silent. Then Sirius took a step backwards. “The offer still stands. You know how to get in.”  

“Yeah. Thanks.”  

“The trial’s in a few days.”  

“Oh?”  

Sirius nodded. “I’ve been preparing for it.”  

“And?”  

“I think I’ve got a pretty solid case.”  

“He’ll be free?”  

At this, Sirius’s smile tightened a little. “I’m sorry, Remus,” he said, “But that, I can’t promise you.”  

Chapter Text

He woke up during the early hours of the morning, when it was still pitch-black outside.  

Sometimes, when Remus awakened after something bad had happened, there was a blissful, fleeting moment during which he managed to think it was all just a dream; that it had only been his imagination playing tricks on him; that he could just open his eyes and blink away the terror. The Sun would have risen, and he’d have nothing to worry about.  

This was not one of those mornings. The sorrow was already inside him when he stirred awake – it was as if it had replaced his blood and found its way into every blood vessel in his body, numbed him so that he couldn’t move. All he wanted to do was sink deeper into his bed and stay there, hidden away forever.  

Despite this, he fought it and forced himself up and into the shower. Because if—and it might very well happen—Altair wasn’t sentenced to Azkaban after all, then all this sulking and bathing in his own misery would be for nothing. He had to hold onto the slippery end of the rope that happened to be the remains of his hope.  

The day went by slowly in Sirius’s loud absence. Remus wished he could be at the hearing and talk to Altair and tell everyone the reason he was there in the first place: because of Remus’s mistake. Maybe he could switch places with Altair, surrender himself with the one condition that Altair would get out unharmed. He’d like to see Sirius’s face if he tried.  

He spent the day curled up in bed, staring at the door unblinkingly. Tom brought him food – probably out of Sirius’s request – but he felt too nauseous to touch any of it. It would have felt crude to feast on a plateful of warm food while Altair was fighting for his freedom.  

It was many hours later when the door to his room opened, tentatively. Sirius peered inside. Seeing him comforted Remus, on some level. He looked immaculate in his Ministry robes, his hair tied up neatly, eyes clear and sober. But there wasn’t a smile on his face, and when he stepped into the room, a cloud of sorrow fell over them, awaited but still unexpected.

“You should come home with me.”  

*** 

The last thing Remus wanted was to return to Grimmauld Place, but what Sirius kept insisting was true – if he spent another night there, alone, his head would explode.  

The house felt even colder now, with the lights out and Remus’s mind dark. Sirius shut the door behind them and pointed his wand at the torches on the walls.  

“So, he was sentenced?”  

“I tried, Remus. I really did.”  

Tears rushed their way to the surface, streaming down his cheeks and onto his shirt. He couldn’t decipher it. Altair was probably already on his way to Azkaban. What would he be like when he got out – if he ever did? Would he still be the same person, only slightly dimmed down? Or would he be unrecognisable?  

Sirius went over the trial as they sat in the kitchen, both with an untouched cup of tea in front of them. There had been little room for argumentation, it seemed. Apparently, if you were a werewolf, it didn’t matter how big or small a crime you had committed. You had done it, and it was better for everyone if you were put behind bars.  

Remus slept restlessly that night, falling asleep for short periods but waking every time to a nightmare, each one crueller than the previous. Sirius stopped at his door a few times, peering in to make sure he was still there. He pretended to be asleep, fighting to subdue his cries.  

In the morning, he listened to Sirius’s footsteps making their way around the house and finally out of the door. He waited a while longer just to be sure, before clambering up and grabbing his backpack. He left a note in the kitchen and apparated to Marlene’s doorstep.  

Luckily, both she and Dorcas had a day off work. Marlene practically toppled him to the ground, squeezing him so tight he felt breathless. He hugged her back, feeling some small amount of peace at last.

She didn’t ask many questions, but he filled her in with the plan, the missing bracelet, and yesterday’s trial. Afterwards, they all settled onto the couch, cuddled up close to each other. Remus let his eyes slip shut, listening as Marlene’s gently uttered words became blurred and eventually faded out entirely.  

*** 

He jostled awake to the sound of a sharp knock on the door. He was alone on the couch now, but he could hear quiet voices in the kitchen. He got up and headed into the hallway, ready to face Sirius, whatever state he was in.  

Marlene reached him just before he got there. “Let me open,” she said quickly, placing a hand on his arm. “You don’t know who it is.”  

Remus gestured towards the door. “Go ahead. But it’s Sirius.”  

There was another loud knock. “Marlene! Dorcas! Open up, it’s James!”  

They exchanged questioning looks, and at last, she stepped forth and grabbed the doorknob. Behind the door stood, indeed, James Potter.  

“Oh, good, you’re here,” he said, looking directly at Remus.  

“I told him I would be,” Remus replied.  

“Yes, but... Well, we weren’t sure. Anyway, it’s, er... That’s good.”  

“So, you came here to make sure I hadn’t run off?”  

“Well, that, and to ask you to go back to Sirius. Pretty please.”  

“Can’t he stay for a bit?” Marlene pleaded. “I haven’t had him for a while, Potter. I’ve missed him.”  

“It would make it easier for us, knowing where he is,” James said, slightly awkwardly. “I’m sorry, Remus, but it’s for your own safety.”  

“He wants me under his own watchful eyes,” Remus said, dryly.  

“We all know how upset you are.”  

“Staying in that big house all by myself won’t make me feel much better.”  

“No, I understand that, but it would be safer.”  

“Just a few days?” Marlene stepped in again. Remus was grateful to her for fighting for him. “I promise you, I won’t let him out of my sight. I want him safe just as much as you do, James.”  

James bit his lip, contemplating. “Well, I can’t force you to go back. But I do think you should consider it.”

“I’ll be fine here.”  

“The full moon’s approaching. Sirius will want to discuss that with you.”  

“Then he can come here himself and talk to me,” Remus gritted. “Did you have something else to say?”

James sighed, letting his shoulders slump in defeat. “No. Just that you ought to be careful. Don’t do anything stupid. You saw what happened to your friend, even though he’s innocent.”  

It at least felt good, hearing those words come out of James’s mouth. The more people who believed in Altair’s innocence, the better. The least Remus could do was make sure everyone knew who he truly was – a kind, caring, good person. And so much more. 

“I won’t do anything stupid,” Remus said, for what felt like the millionth time. He was starting to wonder whether these people would ever allow themselves to trust him.  

“Good,” James said, eyeing him piercingly. He hesitated for a moment before adding, “He cares about you, Remus. He really, really does. And I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but—”  

“There’s nothing going on between us. He just asked for my help, and I helped him.”  

“Remus...” Marlene started.  

“Okay,” James said. “But to him, it’s more than that. I know it is.”  

Remus gritted his teeth. “I don’t care. To me, it’s not.”  

Marlene looked down at the floor, and James directly at him. He nodded. “Okay. I think maybe you should tell him that.”  

*** 

Sirius did not contact him at all during the nearly two weeks he spent living with Marlene and Dorcas, but Remus did see the letters Marlene received and hid in her pockets when he entered the room. It was clear they were keeping each other updated on how he was doing and what was going on at the Ministry. Remus didn’t care, but he did feel a bit like a clueless child, which he didn’t particularly enjoy.  

It was another boring day for him when Marlene came to knock on his door. She peered in tentatively, offering a smile. “Can I come in?”  

Remus nodded, and she entered the room and joined him on the bed. He had been reading, trying to fight his own thoughts, which were slowly consuming him. Still, here he at least felt comfortable.  

“What is it?” he asked. Something was going on – he could tell from the look on her face.  

“The full moon’s tomorrow,” Marlene started, glancing at him. “Have you planned something already?”  

Remus shrugged, quietly. He could go anywhere, since he didn’t have to worry about Fenrir and the others now. He had seen the headline on the front page of The Daily Prophet the day after the hearing – they had been sent to Azkaban right away. The rest of the pack, he wasn’t sure of, but they had probably returned to one of their previous locations. Remus would just have to make sure he didn’t go to the same place, and he would be fine.

“Well, he’s hoping you’ll go and stay with him tonight,” his friend said. “Maybe he has an idea for tomorrow, I don’t know. But I think you should go. He might be able to help you out.” 

Remus sighed, leaning his head on her shoulder. She wrapped her arm around his waist and kissed his cheek. “I’m not going to kick you out, but you should give him a chance. You can come back here after the moon.”  

“Okay,” he whispered, closing his eyes. He wanted to stay there forever, in her warm embrace. “I’ll go.”  

*** 

The full moon never came without the bursts of energy and the anxious shaking of his body. It was as if the wolf was already beginning to tear wounds to his insides, waiting to get out and roam the forests. As Remus knocked on the door to Grimmauld Place, he felt jittery and nervous. He knew he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.  

Sirius opened the door and let him inside, but he stood in his way when he tried to exit the hallway. “Wait,” he said, touching Remus’s shoulder. “Are you still angry at me?”  

Remus looked at him for a long time. He didn’t know what he was feeling.  

“Because if you’re angry at me,” Sirius tacked on, “then you also need to be angry with James and Lily, and with yourself.”  

“What makes you think I’m not angry at myself?!” Remus snapped. He was glad for something to put all his excess energy into, even if that something was arguing. “Do you think I can bloody sleep at night—do you think I wouldn’t change places with Altair in a heartbeat if I just could?”  

Sirius blinked at him. “Remus, this... this isn’t your fault.”  

Tears began streaming down Remus’s face again. He thought he’d cried it all out already, but apparently, there was still something left inside of him. “Then whose fault is it?” he shouted. “It certainly isn’t Altair’s!”  

Sirius took hold of both of his shoulders, looking him directly in the eyes. “You don’t always have to look for the bad guy when something terrible happens, Remus. Sometimes, there isn’t one.”  

Remus wanted to shove him away and ask him to take it back. Altair was in Azkaban, and it was entirely because of Remus’s doings. He wished everyone would just realise that—understand that he wasn’t the selfless person they so wanted him to be. The only one he had truly freed was himself.  

“I need some air,” he said, suddenly feeling like he was choking again. “Don’t follow me out.” He opened the door and slammed it shut behind himself, stumbling out to the grass area in front of the house. He cast a silencing spell around himself and collapsed onto his knees. Then he shouted, making sure that by the time he was done, he was truly nothing but a shell. 

Sirius was waiting in the hallway, patiently, when he finally returned indoors. He looked at Remus for a long time. “Feel better now?” he asked.  

“Somewhat,” Remus muttered. He felt like he could run a marathon, or singlehandedly pry apart the metal bars of a prison cell. The thought sent him spiralling again, and he buried his face in his hands. “It’s killing me,” he said. “All I do every day is sit around and wait, but I don’t even know what I’m waiting for! I can’t get a moment’s peace!” 

“Do you want to talk about it?”  

“No, I don’t want to talk about it,” he gritted.  

“Okay. Are you hungry? Want some tea?”

“No.”  

“Are you tired?”

“Fuck, no!” Remus shouted. “I can’t sit still! I can’t bloody close my eyes and hope that in the morning, it will all be better!”

Sirius sighed, finally stepping aside. “Come on. I’ll make us some tea, and then we can talk about tomorrow.”  

“We don’t have to talk about tomorrow. It’s my own problem!”  

“I think I can help you.”  

“I don’t think you can.”  

“Now you’re just being stubborn.”  

“My friend is in bloody Azkaban!”  

Sirius looked at him incredulously. “Then what can I do to help you? Do you want me to shout at you? Tell you you’re pathetic? Shake you until you come to your senses? Because I don’t know where you got the idea that sitting around all day, doing nothing and blocking every single person out of your life will help get Altair out of prison, but clearly, you’re wrong!”  

“Don’t,” he hissed.  

“Look at yourself!”  

Remus turned away, forcing himself to remain calm. “This was a mistake.”  

“Then go! I was only trying to help, but I won’t wipe away your tears if you don’t want me to. And I’m sure as hell not going to listen to your shit anymore, either.”  

Remus pressed his eyes shut, breathing in and out slowly like Marlene had once taught him. It did nothing, of course, except play him some time. He felt useless in all of it, but he didn’t know how to say that to Sirius. He didn’t know what he could do to help.  

“Are you going?” the Auror prompted, seemingly done with his antics. “The door’s right in front of—”  

“God, shut up!” Remus growled, wanting to stomp his foot against the floor like a petulant child. He swirled around, now nose to nose with Sirius. “I wish I’d never stumbled into you, Black! You’re such a selfish, privileged prick!” He made to turn back towards the door again, but Sirius grabbed his arm before he could.  

“What did James say to you?” he asked.  

“Nothing,” Remus gritted. “You were never supposed to care about me, Sirius! I was just going to help you so that we could both win! But what have I got out of this?”  

Sirius swallowed. “Fine. So maybe it wasn’t all about the war, in the end.”  

“Don’t say that.”  

“I wasn’t planning on... liking you as much as I did. As I do.”  

“You’re so stupid,” Remus whispered. “What would you say if James fell in love with someone like me?”  

The corner of Sirius’s mouth lifted. “Now, don’t get ahead of yourself.”  

They looked at each other for a moment, not saying a word. He still couldn’t tell whether it was a joke. What could Sirius ever have seen in him that might have changed his perception; what was it that made them equal? Nothing was the same as it had been when they had first become acquainted, yet nothing had really changed. And still, there they stood.  

“Would you like that cup of tea?”  

“...Sure.”  

They sat down in the den, side by side. Sirius made an exquisite cup of tea, and Remus did his best to drink slowly. After he was done, he would have to speak.  

The problem was, he didn’t know what he was going to say. His mind had been occupied with so many larger things lately – he had not paid attention to his feelings towards Sirius, other than the anger. Mostly it was because he couldn’t quite believe the possibility of them even existed. But Sirius seemed to disagree, at least to the extent where he had dared to confess to liking him.  

“Are you feeling any better?”  

Remus sighed. He still had half his tea left. “I don’t know what to think.”  

“About...?”  

“Anything. About Altair, about you, about me...”  

“It’s difficult, I know. Knowing your friend is in there. Knowing our plan failed.”  

Remus looked away. That was one of his mistakes. If he had just been more careful, maybe things would be different now. Maybe Altair would be sitting on the sofa with them.  

“You really love him, I can tell.”  

Remus nodded, quietly. He didn’t think he had ever loved anyone more than Altair, even if it was a brotherly sort of love and not so much a romantic one. He hadn’t thought love of all things would make him feel a pain worse than anything he had ever experienced before.  

By the time his cup was empty, Remus was feeling tired beyond measure. He didn’t feel comfortable or particularly good, but compared to what he had been like when he first arrived, things were looking up. At least he no longer wanted to tear Sirius’s head off, or his own.  

Sirius cocked his head to the side, laying his gentle eyes on Remus. “So, are you going to spend the night?” he asked.  

“I shouldn’t.”  

“James said something, didn’t he? About me.”  

“Nothing bad.”  

“No? Then why are you giving me the cold shoulder?”  

Remus met his gaze. “I would have rather heard something bad.”  

Sirius looked puzzled. Remus set his empty teacup aside and moved closer to him, every muscle in his body fighting against him except his heart. He placed his hand on the side of Sirius’s neck. “Do you really like me?” he whispered.  

“Of course.”  

“Why?”  

Sirius frowned. “Because,” he started, “you’re a good person, Remus. You’re funny and caring. And you drive me bonkers, sometimes, and I know I do the same to you, but you’re still here. And I’m still here.” Slowly, he laid his palm flat against Remus’s chest. “And because I just do. Not everything has to always make sense.”  

Remus let the words sink in. He wasn’t sure what to think; the days and weeks he’d spent in his own mind seemed to have morphed his image of reality somehow. He didn’t know whether to feel angry, or understood, or betrayed. But deep down, he knew he couldn’t keep being angry at the one person who had tried his utmost to help him.  

“Your turn,” Sirius said.  

“Hm?”  

“Do you really like me, Remus?”  

Remus sighed, admitting it for the first time even to himself. It hurt, but saying it out loud gave him some clarity. “Yes. And I hate myself for it.”  

“Why?”  

“Because you’re determined, and reckless, and you have a big heart even if you’re sometimes awfully good at making it look smaller...”  

“No,” Sirius chuckled, “Why do you hate yourself for it?”  

“Because, I... swore I would never leave my people. I’ve grown up loathing yours—Aurors, Ministry officials, people who come from backgrounds like yours. I never let myself believe I could have something in common with you, and now you’ve not only proven me wrong but also shown me that maybe I never had my people.”  

The smile had melted away from Sirius’s face by the time he was done talking. He looked down. “Oh...”  

Remus used his hand to tilt his face back up. “It’s just not smart, Sirius,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.” And he leaned down to graze their lips together, allowing his eyes to slip shut. If it was the last time he would ever do this, then so be it. For now, he let Sirius hug him closer, tasting every bit of him he could.  

Sirius’s hands slipped beneath his jumper, gently tracing the ragged scars on his stomach and back. It made Remus shiver, because he could not forget who it was he had in his embrace. And for the first time, he didn’t want to forget, either. Some part of him finally gave up and let go, but when he fell, he didn’t hit rock bottom. Just as he had said he would, Sirius was there to catch him.  

Placing both hands on the sides of Remus’s face, Sirius kissed him deeply once more and then pulled away. There was a small smile on his face, though he did not look entirely happy. It was more melancholic. “Still feel like crawling out of your skin?” he asked.  

“Less than before,” Remus admitted.  

“What changed? Why didn’t your storm off?”  

Remus sighed, leaning down again to press his forehead against Sirius’s. “Maybe I wanted answers.”

“And? Did you get them?”  

“I didn’t expect it to go like this.”  

“And would you like to—?”  

“Talk?”  

“Yes.”  

“No.”  

Sirius gave him a tight smile. “Figured. Will you stay the night, though?”  

Remus returned the look. “Could you stop pretending you won’t lose your job if anyone ever sees us even talking to each other?”  

“What’s life without a little risk?”  

“I’ll sleep on the sofa.”  

Sirius shrugged indifferently. “However you please.”  

“This doesn’t mean anything, Sirius.”  

“Okay.” Planting both hands on the edge of the sofa cushion, Sirius pushed himself up. Then he turned to Remus and bent down so that their faces were levelled. “But I really like you,” he said, so softly. “I’ll get you a pillow and a blanket.” Then he straightened up again and started towards the door, stopping in his tracks right before he stepped out of the room. “And Remus? Actions speak louder than words, you know?”  

Remus didn’t answer. He knew.  

Chapter Text

In his dream, Remus was swimming through a dark lake. His hands scooped the water desperately as he attempted to stay above the surface, almost drained of energy. He was human, but his mind felt fuzzy like the wolf’s. As he looked up, he saw two strips of land before him: Closer to him stood his pack – Fenrir, Karina, Sebastian, Altair, Alyna, and the rest, their faces clear despite the fog surrounding them. On the island further off waited Sirius, alone, his face clear, too. They were all calling for him longingly, asking him to swim over.  

Remus made his decision in a split-second. He paddled past the first island—his pack—and aimed for the one further away. Sirius grinned at him triumphantly. But before he could make it to land, Remus began sinking below the surface, as if something was pulling at his limbs and dragging him towards the bottom of the lake. When he glanced down, he saw a copy of himself, his fake self’s hands curling around his ankles. Then his mock version turned into a wolf, its teeth sinking painfully into Remus’s skin. Then the wolf turned into him again. He tried to scream but nothing came out. His lungs filled with cold, dirty water.  

He jostled awake with half his face covered in drool. He wiped it away quickly, and as he glanced up, he found Sirius already watching him quietly. Remus dropped his hand to the sofa cushion. “Sorry, that’s disgusting,” he grimaced. His heart was still racing from the nightmare, but he tried not to let it show.  

Sirius raised one eyebrow. “I’ve seen you turn into a wolf. No offense, but the bar is high.”  

Remus rubbed his fingers over his eyes and huffed. He had tossed and turned the first half of the night and only fallen asleep after hours of fighting an agonising headache. The grand clock ticking away on the wall hadn’t helped much.  

Sirius turned around and started towards the door. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?” he asked.  

Remus twisted around to look at him. “Plan?” he repeated.  

“Yeah. Where are we spending the night?”  

He sat up abruptly, the blanket falling off him and onto the floor. He stared at the Auror, mortified. “We? You’re not coming, Sirius.”  

“Of course, I am! What, were you thinking of going by yourself?”  

“I’ve done it alone plenty of times. Sirius, when you said you might be able to help me, I didn’t think...”  

“Well, you don’t have to be alone, tonight. We’ve already done it once.”  

“That,” Remus said, pointedly, “was a one-off thing. I never agreed to it. You just decided to stick around.”  

“And it went extremely well, didn’t it?”  

“Don’t you have other places to be? You know, since it’s your job…?”  

“I already agreed to take the morning shift,” Sirius said, shrugging. “Look, if you absolutely do not want me to come, then I won’t. But I don’t believe you when you say you’d rather do it alone.”  

Remus shifted uncomfortably. Of course, he would rather not spend a full moon alone, and as of late, Sirius was all he had. He didn’t think the remaining pack members would receive him well. But he was also afraid that Sirius was acting on impulse. Did he really understand what he was doing, letting Remus stay with him and insisting on being there during the full moon? For if there was one thing he had learned about Sirius, it was that he loved a good spike of adrenaline. Only, he feared that that was the sole base of his decision making.  

“I don’t know, Sirius...” he sighed.  

“Come on, Remus. You can’t deny that last time was… good. Great, even. Besides, now that the wolf doesn’t have its pack… Are you sure it’s a good idea to go alone?”  

“Can’t you remember what I told you last night?” Remus insisted, weakly.  

“About this not meaning anything? Yeah, I remember.”  

“Not about that,” he huffed impatiently, “About you losing your job!”  

“Oh, honestly. Do you think they’ll come to the woods at night and try and come across a werewolf? If someone did that, it would be me. And even if someone did find out, I’d just say it was for research.”  

“Sirius.”  

“Think about it, okay?”  

“No.”  

Sirius pointed at him. “Think about it.”  

He sighed wearily. He was tired, and some part of him was almost excited at the prospect of Sirius dragging along. It was true that last time, their shared full moon had been nothing short of great. “Fine…” he muttered.  

“Good. I need to take a shower and head to work, but I’ll see you tonight, eh?”  

Remus nodded, though he had no intention of staying at Sirius’s house all day. All his things were in his room at Marlene’s anyway, and he would have other things to think about there. He knew he shouldn’t go behind Sirius’s back, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.  

Sirius winked at him and disappeared into the corridor, jumping down the stairs two at a time. Remus waited until he heard the front door click shut to get up.  

*** 

He spent the day walking around in small circles in Marlene and Dorcas’s living room. He had taken his things from Grimmauld Place with him in case he decided not to go back after all, and his rucksack now sat on the floor next to the sofa. Marlene walked into the room from the kitchen, carrying a tray of teacups and biscuits. “Could you sit down for a second? You’re making me anxious, pacing around like that.”  

“Sorry,” he said, planting himself on the sofa. She joined him, setting the tray down on the coffee table.  

“Are you nervous?” she asked.  

“Sirius wants to spend the night with me.”  

She whipped her head around quickly. “As in—?”  

“Yeah. In the forest.”  

“Is he crazy?! Is that what he meant when he said he wanted to talk to you about the full moon?” 

“Yeah. Trust me, I was just as shocked.”  

“And what did you tell him?”  

“I said I’m not sure. That I’d think about it.”  

“Have you decided yet?”  

He reached for a teacup and took a slow sip. Marlene was terrible at making it, but the taste was familiar. He smiled for a moment before lowering the cup to his lap. “I don’t think it’s smart,” he said, his face pulling into a frown, “but on some level, I think it’ll be worse if I’m alone.”  

“Yeah... I mean, it sounds completely reckless, him wanting to join you, but... I can’t say I wouldn’t feel a bit better, knowing you’re not out there all by yourself.”  

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”  

“I know. But still. It’s a different situation now, with everything that’s happened.”  

“You tell me.”  

When the clock struck four, he knew it was time for him to make a decision. Sirius would already be at home, wondering where he had gone. He would undoubtedly go looking for him in the forest if he didn’t get any answers before night arrived.  

Marlene had assured him that Sirius knew what he was doing, but Remus was inclined to disagree. Sirius certainly wasn’t stupid, but perhaps he failed to remember his own mortality at times. You couldn’t just spend a night with a werewolf and expect to get out of it unscathed.  

In the end, he told himself to stop worrying about the other man. If Sirius was so sure about it, then he had to give in and let him come along. Some part of him was more scared of what might happen if he transformed alone.  

Sirius opened the door so fast it seemed he had been standing behind it already, waiting for his return. “Have a nice walk?” he asked, eyebrows raised, arms folded over his chest. Remus pushed past him and into the house.  

“I was at Marlene’s.”  

“Couldn’t stay away for twenty-four hours?”  

“Didn’t realise I was being held hostage here.”  

Sirius gave him an unimpressed look, then gestured towards the kitchen. “I just made dinner. There’s enough for you, too.”  

They ate in silence. Remus’s stomach was coiling with nerves, and although he was usually ravenous on the days preceding a full moon, he had a hard time keeping everything down. Last time, he had not intended to spend the full moon with Sirius. It had been an honest mishappening, entirely out of his control. Now, it was a conscious choice, and it felt as though he was betraying his pack all over again.  

His pack. He supposed that was no longer true, although they would certainly have a place in his heart forever. The bond they shared wasn’t one you could just break like it was nothing. In a way, they would always be connected.  

They were facing their first full moon in Azkaban. Remus could hardly think about how horrible it would be. Shameful, even – they were going back to their roots, spending the night locked away in a tiny cell with nothing to occupy themselves with but hard stone walls and their own skin. He grimaced, overcome with nausea at the mere thought of it.  

“Distract me,” he said, suddenly. Sirius looked up from his plate and let his fork hover in the air hesitantly.  

“Er...?”  

“They’re going to be transforming in Azkaban,” Remus explained, shivering. “I can’t think about it. Not now.”  

He probably deserved to think about, but he was feeling sick as it was. Picturing Altair in a dirty cell in Azkaban wouldn’t do much to help. He pushed his plate away, folding his arms over the table and resting his forehead against them. “Tell me about your day,” he said, voice muffled. “What happened at work?”  

“Oh, er,” Sirius jumped in, quickly, “Well, I heard about—shit, that won’t help...”  

“Just tell me.”  

“It’s about Greyback.”  

Remus lifted his head, his heart leaping unpleasantly in his chest. “What about him?”  

Sirius lowered his utensils and crossed his hands over the table, looking at him gravely. “They do patrols in Azkaban—you know, to check everything’s okay. And this morning... Well, I heard that Fenrir’s quite talkative. Mutters to himself a lot, they said. In his sleep but also when he’s awake. And lately, he’s been talking about things he’s planning on doing when he gets out of there.”  

It felt like a stone had been dropped inside Remus’s stomach. “Go on,” he prompted, hoarsely.  

“Apparently, he’s threatened to kill someone – to strangle them until they can’t breathe. I, er... I think he might be talking about you. Sorry, but... Well, you know.” He sighed. “You’ve nothing to worry about, of course, as long as he stays locked up. But... he’s also been talking about biting someone the second he gets free. You know, to turn them into a werewolf.”  

“He can’t be talking about me,” Remus said, frowning. “I mean, the strangling stuff, sure—wouldn’t be surprised, actually. But the biting? I’m already a werewolf.”  

“Yeah. Maybe he’s just having nightmares, or—or dreams or whatever it is in his case.”  

“Yeah...”  

“Well, in any case, it’s nothing for us to worry about. He’s behind bars. I just don’t like the idea of him wanting to kill you, or anyone for that matter.”  

Remus huffed a gruff, humourless laugh. He looked at his half-finished plate and picked up his work again to pierce it through a piece of meat. “Well, what did you think was going to happen?” he asked, shoving it in his mouth and chewing as his eyes found Sirius’s again. “I didn’t exactly expect him to ask to send me flowers.”  

Sirius, too, dared to laugh, although weakly. “Yeah, well,” he said, shrugging. “You’re right.”  

“Anything else?” Remus prompted.  

“Not really,” Sirius said. “Not anything I can tell you about, anyway.”  

“Right.”  

They fell into a tense silence. Remus felt like standing up and pacing around the big house, but he thought that might be a bit much. Instead, he focussed on cutting another piece of meat with shaky hands. He didn’t bother putting it in his mouth.  

Sirius scooted back on his chair, then reached a hand towards Remus and beckoned with his fingers. “Come,” he said and stalked out of the room.  

Bemused, Remus followed. Sirius led him up the first flight of stairs and into the sitting room, where he gestured for Remus to sit down in an armchair. Sirius himself went to sit in front of the grand piano. He lifted the fallboard and began playing a slow, softly flowing piece that echoed around the space. Remus felt stupid just sitting there, but he tried to relax and listen. His eyes were fixed on Sirius’s fluently moving fingers. He was reminded of the day Sirius used Veritaserum on him. It had been a full moon day, too.  

After a while, Sirius stopped. He shifted a little, pulling his wand out of his pocket and swirling it above the piano to charm it to keep playing. Then he swivelled around on the piano stool and stood up, striding to Remus with a sly smile on his face. He stopped right before him and offered his hand.  

“May I?” he asked.  

Remus realised what was going on too late. “Oh, no,” he said, firmly, attempting to sink lower in the armchair. “Absolutely not.”  

Sirius tilted his head, arm still outstretched. “Please?”  

“I don’t dance. I’ll just step on your toes or trip over my own feet.”  

“No, you won’t. I’ll teach you.”  

“I’ll pass.”  

Sirius tilted his head further, until it was in a comical angle. “Remus,” he said, “You’re the one who wanted a distraction. Come on, you don’t need to do anything. We can just sway.”  

“This is stupid,” Remus muttered.  

Sirius didn’t yield. He stayed in his anticipating position and tapped his foot against the floor, apparently trying to charm Remus with his smile, and after a while—to neither of their surprise—it worked. Begrudgingly, Remus accepted his hand and let himself be pulled up to his feet.  

Sirius guided Remus’s hand to his shoulder and placed his own on Remus’s waist. He tried to hold Remus’s gaze, but Remus looked down at their feet and remained quiet. The music in the background sounded beautiful, and for a moment, he attempted to focus merely on it, allowing his mind to wander, closing his eyes when he felt like he might not trip after all. Sirius swayed them around slowly, pulling their bodies close as they moved in unison.  

It must have gone on for ages. In the end, they were only two bodies moulded together, spinning around in a slow circle in the middle of the dimly lit room. Slowly, Sirius slid his fingers away from Remus’s and brought them to his chest. The music came to a tranquil finish, and they stopped spinning. Remus didn’t want to open his eyes, but then, he didn’t have to when Sirius gently pressed their lips together. 

There wasn’t a trace of anger or frustration present anymore. Instead, the kisses were gentle and tentative and just what Remus’s restless heart needed. He felt as though he was floating a foot above the ground.  

“Have you a place in mind?” Sirius breathed against his lips. He stepped back a little, running his hand soothingly up Remus’s arm.  

He nodded. “I found it earlier this month, I... Well, I thought it might be smart to find somewhere the pack’s never been before. Just in case.”  

“You haven’t heard from the others, then?”  

Remus shook his head and swatted away his nerves. They could be anywhere, fighting for their lives. It was getting colder out, too. “I didn’t expect to, either,” he admitted. “I just hope they’re all together somewhere.”  

“Yeah... Should we get going?”  

Remus nodded, then halted. “Er, it’s quite cold out. You should take something warm with you.”  

“Don’t worry, I’m good with layers.” Sirius patted him on the arm and promptly turned on his heel and disappeared into the corridor. Remus watched him go, then ran a hand over his face, chastising himself. This was exactly what he was supposed to be avoiding. He needed to distance himself from Sirius, not let himself be persuaded into slow dancing to a piano ballad.  

They apparated to a hill overlooking a dense forest. It was the perfect place to spend a moon, secluded and full of distractions that would keep him from wandering close to any habitations. It was already dark out, and the moon peeked out from beneath frail clouds. In whichever direction they looked, all they could see were endless fields of tall trees. It was cold too, and the wind caught their clothes as they stood on the hill, billowing the fabrics like the rag of a sailboat.  

“Come on,” Remus prompted. “Let’s get down, it’ll be less windy in the forest.”  

They stalked down the side of the hill and stepped into the woods. They were immediately met by the sort of quiet that sent shivers down your spine, eerie and a bit unnatural. But Remus felt calm.  

They sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree to wait. Remus shivered and pulled his jacket tighter around himself. It would have been easier to just transform already – he hated the waiting part. Besides, he would be considerably warmer as a wolf. The cold wouldn’t bother him – it would be a welcome sensation.  

“You know, you’ve never told me about your childhood,” Sirius said, quietly. He was rubbing his hands in his lap, generating heat. When Remus didn’t respond, he glanced up and raised his brows. “What? You haven’t.”  

Remus looked down at his feet, dragging them across the soil idly. “There isn’t much to tell,” he said.  

“I’m sure there is. Like, where did you go to school? Surely, someone taught you magic?”   

“I was home-schooled, sort of.”  

“Really?”  

“Well, I did go to a Muggle school, but my dad taught me at home – spells and practical stuff like that, but I never learned about... about history, or astronomy, or anything.”  

“Lucky,” Sirius remarked. He turned forward again and looked at the ground, furrowing his brows. “I thought every kid here was sent to Hogwarts. How come you were not?”  

Remus fixed him with a blank look. “Really, Sirius? You can’t think of one reason as to why I wasn’t in school with you?”  

“Well, yeah, but... Surely, there would’ve been a way? It’s not like you’re out for blood for more than once a month.” The corner of his mouth tilted up tentatively, but Remus didn’t bother humouring him. “I’m sorry, Remus, but I mean it! You were a child. You deserved to be raised like others your age.”  

“I was, mostly. I just didn’t go to school with other wizards. And my dad, he… Well, he wasn’t half bad at teaching. And I was told later on that I was quite a fast learner. Sure, my experience was different than yours, but I was fine with it as a kid. I didn’t know of anything better. And really, I think I was better off at home, where I didn’t have to hide my problem from everyone. I could disappear from school each month and no one would suspect a thing. They believed my parents’ explanations that I was sick a lot, because I definitely looked like it every time I returned to class after a full moon.”  

The frown on Sirius’s face had only deepened. He shook his head, slightly. “I don’t think you were better off isolated from magic,” he said. “I don’t think it’s fair you were kept away.”  

“But I wasn’t, was I? I told you, my dad taught me.”  

“Yeah, but I’m talking about… about kids your age. You were alone, Remus, and that cannot have been good for you.”  

“I had friends in Muggle school.”  

That wasn’t exactly true. Remus had been bullied a lot, and due to his constant absences, he had often been left out. But he hadn’t been unhappy. Maybe he hadn’t understood enough to have known to be unhappy.  

“That’s not the same thing,” Sirius countered.  

Remus scoffed. “How is it not the same thing?” 

“Well, you would have been happier at Hogwarts. I know it. And think of what you could be if—”  

“Please, don’t,” Remus gritted. Sirius snapped his mouth shut, but it looked like he had to fight hard not to continue. “I get that you had a jolly old time at Hogwarts with your mates, but… Look, all I’m saying is that had I been there, I still probably would’ve had a very different experience than you.”  

“Well, sure, but you don’t know that—”  

“Sirius. There’s no point in me dwelling on it. I don’t have a problem with my education, so I don’t see why you would, either. Besides, it all ended nearly a decade ago. I doubt my life would be any different if I’d gone to an actual school for magic.”  

“But… don’t you feel bitter about it?”  

Remus offered a shrug. “I only feel bitter that I was bitten, but… Well, everything that came after that was because of it. I can’t really blame my parents for any of it, nor anyone else. It’s not like they wanted my life to be like this.”  

Sirius twisted towards him again, instinctively. “Of course, they didn’t,” he whispered. “It can’t have been easy for any of you.”  

Remus fought the urge to laugh. “No, definitely not,” he said. Sirius’s eyes were comically big as he stared at Remus, waiting for him to go on. We’re not an Auror and a werewolf, he told himself, We’re just two people.  

It was no good.  

“How did you end up with Fenrir?” Sirius asked, very quietly, almost as if he was offering Remus the option to pretend he hadn’t heard.  

The facts were as followed:  

1. Remus was genuinely starting to believe that Sirius was not going to turn on him, ever. Not after all these months and the things they had shared with each other.  
2. No one (as far as Remus knew) was forcing Sirius to be so hospitable and helpful towards him. He had kindly offered to spend the full moon with him multiple times now, too.  
3. Sirius did also have a knack for the illegal, at least according to Lily. But would anyone go through all this trouble merely for a few good hours of adrenaline? Surely, Sirius’s job already covered that for him.  

“You don’t have to say,” Sirius added into the silence.  

Remus sighed. “I moved out when I turned sixteen. I’d had a job the past couple of summers, and I had just enough savings to pay six months’ rent at this dingy flat I found in Gelligaer. I delivered newspapers for a shit wage to pay for food, and around the time I was nearing seventeen, Fenrir showed up in my life again. I had thought I’d never see him again, honestly. I’d learned from my father at fifteen that he’d been the one to bite me, though my mum had wanted to keep it a secret from me preferably forever.

“Anyway, one day I returned to my flat from work, and… he was there, saying he wanted to talk to me. I had to take one look at him to know who he was – of course, I’d searched the newspapers for pictures of him ever since I found out, but even if I hadn’t, I’m sure I would’ve recognised him. He… he even smelled familiar, which sort of creeped me out.”  

Remus sucked in a hasty breath and chanced a glance at Sirius. He was looking at him quizzically, but when he didn’t interrupt, Remus tacked on, “I was angry, of course, and my first instinct was to pull out my wand and kill him. But obviously, I knew that would’ve only got me killed, so I didn’t jump him. I wasn’t afraid of him for some reason, but I was so, so furious. And then he said he had a proposal for me, and I didn’t know where refusing to hear it would get me, so I listened. The next day, I quit my job and joined him.”  

Sirius’s head jerked up and he stared at Remus in bafflement. “Just like that?” 

Remus lifted one shoulder, averting his gaze. “It was a tempting offer,” he said. “I barely had money to pay my rent the next month, let alone eat anything but plain rice for meals, and… he was there. He offered me shelter and food and company – a whole pack, with people who were in the same situation as me, who were just as torn up both inside and out. He said I would never feel left out again. It was a hard offer to refuse.”  

This seemed to be somewhat logical to Sirius, for he nodded his head slowly. His eyes dropped to Remus’s feet but his forehead didn’t lose its screwed lines. “It’s just… You were so young. You’d barely finished school. How could you make a decision like that?”  

“It was far better than what I had going on for me at the time. I was freaking out about meeting them all because, well, they were a bunch of strangers to me, but I was also so excited to see what they’d be like. I’d never seen another werewolf, and now I was going to go live with a dozen of them. And believe it or not, Fenrir was really good about it. Me being a newcomer, I mean. I felt welcome there in a way I never had anywhere.”  

“How old are you?” Sirius asked, suddenly, as if that was what Remus had wanted him to get out of his rambling.  

Still, Remus met Sirius’s eye and said, “The same as you.” Sirius froze, mouth slightly ajar, so he continued, “Marlene told me.”  

“You mean that—”  

“Yeah. I really would have been there with you lot, if I… had.”  

A weak laugh escaped Sirius’s mouth. He looked at Remus and shook his head amusedly. “You’re saying we could have been friends all this time?”  

“Er, no. You would likely have bullied me, or at the very least ignored my existence entirely.”  

“Are you joking? We would’ve been overjoyed to be friends with a werewolf! How cool would’ve that been?”  

“As if you would’ve been told that I was a werewolf.”  

Sirius shrugged modestly. “We’d have figured it out.”  

Remus bit down on his lip and kept quiet. They probably would have. It hurt him a little, the thought that he could have shared his youth with wizards his age; that he could have met Sirius, James, and Lily fifteen years before he actually did. That he might even have become friends with them. But then, he might not have. Hogwarts might’ve not felt like home to him in the same way it clearly had to Sirius. Remus might have been miserable.  

He probably wouldn’t have, though.  

“What about your parents?” Sirius whispered, jolting Remus a little with the softness of his voice. “How’d they react when you left them?”  

Something stirred inside Remus, like the wolf had lifted its head and rolled over. He suddenly felt infuriated by Sirius’s endless questions. “What did your parents think when you left them?” he snapped. Sirius frowned at him, looking mildly offended. Before he could bite back, Remus tacked on, selfishly, “Why do you care so fucking much about my shit?”  

“There’s no need to be an arsehole,” Sirius responded, dully.  

“No? Stop asking me about my family, then.”  

“Remus… I only asked because I know they cared for you. Still do, most probably. If you must know, my parents probably felt relieved that I was gone. Of course, they were angry too, because I was supposed to be their perfect son and heir to the family. But I can’t imagine they cared that much. I’ve told you they didn’t.”  

Remus sighed, quietly. “You’re right, you have. But... you’re wrong, too. My parents weren’t exactly supportive, especially not when I reached my teens and no longer needed them for everything. Sure, I had food and a roof on top of my head, and they didn’t despise me, exactly, but... My mum was practically afraid of me. She never said it, of course, but I could see it in her eyes.  

“And my dad was too caught up in his work, busy trying to run a law that would make the lives of people like me twice as unbearable as they already were. I didn’t have a horrible childhood, and I’m sure they loved me, but they were also probably relieved when I left. I’m sure it was hard for them, raising a son with lycanthropy, and I can’t blame them for growing frustrated over it all. It was easier for all of us that I just left.”  

Sirius faltered. “I shouldn’t have assumed...” he began, but Remus waved him off with a flick of his hand. He was used to it. Hope and Lyall were good people, but everyone had their limits.  

“Forget about it,” he said. “My point is, me joining Fenrir wasn’t something I was forced into. Sure, maybe I dived straight into the deep end, but I don’t see how my life would have turned out any better if I hadn’t. I didn’t regret it, not when everything was handed to me on a silver platter.” He met Sirius’s eye. “Well, thankfully not silver.”  

Sirius laughed, caught off guard. “Was that a joke, Remus?”  

Remus gave him half a smile. “Anyway, we had it all. Food to eat, a bed to sleep in, a community of people that were all quite alike one another. We didn’t have to pay anything for any of it. I felt like I’d been offered a key to a luxurious life, just like that. It beat living on nothing but canned beans nill to a hundred.”  

“Of course. It’s just... hard to imagine. From an outside’s perspective.”  

“Well, obviously.”  

Sirius looked like he was about to say something more, but the sudden jerking motion of Remus’s body stopped him. Remus groaned as a striking pain spread from his shoulders to his lower back. Their conversation had been a working distraction, but there wasn’t much he could do about the transformation itself. Ignoring the pain was one thing; ignoring your body morphing into animal form was an impossible affair.  

It didn’t take long for Sirius to be pulling him up to his feet. “We should move further into the woods,” he said, ushering Remus along. “Is it bad?”  

“You did a pretty good job at distracting me,” Remus gritted through his teeth. He stopped momentarily to catch his breath. Sirius halted his step without a word, waiting.  

Once they had found a place they were content with, Remus sat down against a tree and leaned his head back, pressing his eyes shut. Sirius was standing further off, watching him quietly. It would have annoyed him, had he not been so focussed on his bones shifting. Turning with the pack was never an unpleasant affair. They all understood each other’s pain, and what came after the transformation was never bad. Together, they could roam around, hunt, and play with each other. But transforming without them felt painful and pointless. He had a long night ahead of him.  

When he felt that he could no longer sit around calmly, he pushed to his feet and began undressing himself. He left his clothes in a pile next to the tree and turned to Sirius. “I’d like it if you didn’t watch me.”  

Sirius swirled around quickly, holding a hand over his eyes. “Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he noted.  

Remus scoffed. “No, not now. I meant... I’d like it if you didn’t watch me transform. It’s already kind of you to be here. You don’t need to see it happen too.”   

Sirius dropped his hand and fixed him with a stern look. “I’ve already seen it once,” he said, determinedly. “And like you said, this is literally what my job is about. I want to know what—”  

“No, Sirius,” Remus countered. “I don’t want you to watch. I’m not some—experiment of yours.”  

“I didn’t—”  

“Please. Just turn away when it happens. And cover your ears.”  

“Remus…”  

Remus held a hand towards him, silencing him. Then he shook his head slowly. “No.”  

Sirius huffed. “Fine, alright. I won’t look. Though I don’t see how it’s your prob—”  

“Arhh,” Remus hissed, his knees giving in. They hit the ground with force, and he felt his jolting headache take over again. It was as if his skull was breaking apart. The world around him went blurry, and he could only barely register Sirius still standing beside him.  

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” he heard Sirius’s faint voice say, as if it was coming from a mile away and not ten feet.  

He didn’t know what happened after that.  

Chapter Text

Remus was significantly warmer when he woke up than what he was used to. It was a cold morning but the crisp air felt nice against his skin. Birds were chirping overhead, only just waking up themselves. Without opening his eyes, he inhaled the scent of the forest and toyed with the pine needles beneath his fingers. He couldn’t remember a thing about last night.  

He stayed like that for a while, until he realised there was something heavy draped over him. He opened one eye, wincing at the ache on his temples, and looked down at his body. It was covered by a thick blanket, which could only be courtesy of one person. He let his eyes travel up to find Sirius crouching some feet away from him.  

“Good, you’re awake,” Sirius said. “We should get going.”  

Remus sighed and dropped his head back down. It felt too heavy for him to carry and he was comfortable there, lying on the forest bed. “I feel like shit,” he stated.  

“Come on,” Sirius urged. “You’ll feel better in a proper bed.” He stood up and waited for Remus to reopen his eyes. The sun had barely risen – he couldn’t understand why they were in such a hurry. He would rather have stayed planted there with the birds singing in the background.  

“Just a moment,” he murmured, massaging his temples with his fingers. Then he rolled onto his stomach and propped himself on his elbows, letting his head hang between his shoulders. The ground was suddenly spinning beneath him.  

“Really, Remus, we ought to go. I’ve work, and it’s better if we don’t hang around here any longer than we need to.”  

He took a couple of deep breaths, willing the bile that had crept up his throat back down. He clambered to all fours, stayed frozen for a moment, and then grabbed onto a nearby tree trunk to help himself up. “I don’t remember anything that happened last night,” he admitted, faintly. He turned to his companion and frowned. “Did anything—”  

“You’re fine,” Sirius said, even offering a wan smile. He bent to pick up Remus’s clothes from the ground and tossed them at him. “Here.”  

Remus nodded as he pulled his trousers and shirt on, though the movement sent another wave of nausea over him. He stumbled and managed just barely to catch himself, leaning more heavily onto the tree. “Right, I’m... I’m okay.”  

“Good. I’ll take you to mine, and then I really need to rush. I’ll try and not stay late.”  

Remus furrowed his brows. “I’m not coming to your house,” he said. “I’ll go and stay with Marlene again.”  

Sirius shook his head. “I’d prefer it if you stayed another night.”  

“So you ‘know exactly where I am’?”  

“Indeed.”  

He sighed. “I’d really rather go and see her.”  

“Looking like this, we’ll be safer if we apparate directly to Grimmauld Place.”  

“But—”  

Before he could object, Sirius had already grabbed his arm, tightly. They landed heavily in front of 12 Grimmauld Place. Sirius, looking unperturbed, began striding towards the house immediately. Remus watched him go, bent over and panting. “Wait,” he choked out. He closed his eyes and forced himself to swallow.  

“Get a move on,” Sirius called back.  

“No, I—” Remus cut himself off by vomiting on the ground beneath his feet. He coughed vigorously, fighting not to lose his balance. “I feel a bit bad,” he choked out.  

Sirius simply watched him from afar, a tight smile on his face. “You could’ve said something.”  

Remus lifted his head and scowled. “I’ll try next time,” he murmured. When he was sure he wouldn’t be sick again, he spat onto the grass and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. As he began wobbling towards the house, Sirius aimed his wand at the puddle of yellowish sick on the ground, making it disappear in a matter of seconds.  

“Snobby neighbours,” he explained. This time, he walked slowly by Remus’s side and helped him up the stairs. He looked at him pityingly. “Are you feeling alright?”  

“Dizzy.”  

“Don’t pass out on me, eh?” Sirius gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Remus, on the other hand, didn’t even bother responding to it. Now that he was inside the house, the idea of an actual bed didn’t sound half bad. He waited for Sirius to get rid of his coat, and then they began their slow journey into Sirius’s bedroom. Once inside, Remus crashed down on the bed and draped a blanket and duvet over himself, shivering.  

“I’ll be fine,” he said when Sirius merely stayed standing in the doorway. “Weren’t you in a hurry?”  

Sirius nodded, gnawing on his lip. He looked wary. “Call for Kreacher if you need anything,” he said then, turning away. “He’s a pain in the arse, but he’ll give you what you ask for.”  

Remus nodded and closed his eyes. His head was still throbbing with pain and he feared he might throw up again if he so much as rolled over. “Thanks,” he mumbled. 

Sirius didn’t say anything, but Remus heard him leave the landing and hop down the stairs. He felt guilty for having kept him up all night, especially since he would have no time to sleep before his shift. But then, it was Sirius who had insisted on dragging along. He wouldn’t have taken no for an answer, not without a fight.  

He ended up falling asleep not long after Sirius’s departure, though it was restless and he kept jolting awake every now and again. He checked the time when he felt like an eternity had passed and found that it was only three in the afternoon. He dropped his head back down on the pillow, too poorly to move.  

He didn’t like the fact he couldn’t remember anything about last night. Everything must have gone well because Sirius still had his limbs attached, but it wasn’t a nice feeling, being completely oblivious to everything. He felt fine, or at least as fine as he could after a moon, but there was an uneasy feeling in his chest.  

When he next woke up, he could hear Sirius moving downstairs, inevitably in the kitchen making food. He breathed in and out for some minutes, then mustered enough strength to drag himself up and out of the room. He tackled the stairs surprisingly skilfully, managing at least not to tumble down.  

He stepped into the kitchen with a small sigh.  

“You’re up,” Sirius said without turning to look. “Dinner’s ready.”  

“Thanks.”  

His host spun around and levitated a pot to the table. He didn’t look Remus’s way when he sat down and began ladling soup into a bowl. Remus followed his example, though hesitantly – Sirius seemed uptight, and he wasn’t looking to pick a fight. He was already being too much of a burden.  

“How was work?” he asked, aiming for casual conversation. He watched as Sirius’s jaw clenched.  

“Refreshing,” he said.  

“Have I done something?”  

The other man’s eyes snapped up. “What?” he asked, sharply. “No.”  

“I can go now, if you’d like. You must be tired, you’ve been up since yesterday morning.”  

Sirius gave a stiff shake of his head and spooned soup into his mouth. “I asked you here myself.”  

“Maybe it wasn’t wise.”  

“What do you mean?”  

“You’ve been acting off ever since the morning! If I’ve overstayed my welcome, then just—”  

“No, that’s not it.”  

“Then what is it? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”  

Sirius glared at him, then turned back to his bowl. “If you think this is what I look like after seeing a ghost...”  

Remus didn’t bother trying to converse with him after that, and they merely focussed on finishing their dinner. He was longing to be in his bed at Marlene’s, sit down with her for a cup of tea, have her sit with him until he fell asleep. He didn’t really understand why Sirius wanted him there, other than that he must have been scared to let him out of his sight. It made sense, but it annoyed Remus.  

When he was done eating, he announced he was going to go take a shower, leaving Sirius to sulk by himself in the kitchen. He blamed the other man’s behaviour on his lack of sleep; he would have been grumpy too, had he spent a day and a half on his feet.  

He took his time in the shower, partly to relish the decent water pressure at Sirius’s house, partly to give him the space he clearly needed. Remus had managed to avoid reading the newspaper that day but he feared there might be something in there that would explain Sirius’s behaviour. Maybe another attack somewhere. Maybe more news about Fenrir.  

He dried himself carefully on one of Sirius’s towels and then went into the master bedroom to retrieve his rucksack and get dressed. His host was nowhere to be seen.  

Despite the fact he had spent the day horizontally, Remus was exhausted. He was beyond grateful for the existence of magic as he switched the bedsheets into clean ones, the dirty ones flying into the laundry bin with a mere flick of his wand. Just as he was about to gather his things and head into the den, where he had spent many nights before on the couch, Sirius appeared in the doorway. The sour look from earlier had not left his face.  

He began undoing the buttons on his shirt, then suddenly froze. “I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight,” he said. “You can have my bed.”  

“No, it’s okay,” Remus frowned. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Don’t be silly.” He turned around, ready to leave the room again. Remus let out a choked sound, confused about what was going on.  

“Sirius, what’s up with you?” he asked.  

Sirius swivelled to face him, spreading his arms wide. His mouth pulled into a tight smile. “I’m perfect,” he said. “I’m just tired, and you’re already here, so I might as well sleep in the other room. It doesn’t matter.”  

Remus tried to come up with something to say, to convince him to stay instead, but something caught his attention. He dropped his bearings to the floor and surged forward. “Sirius, you—you’re bleeding.” He reached towards Sirius’s stomach, where the fabric of his shirt was indeed turning crimson. The stain grew slowly, dark red spreading across pure white.  

Sirius cussed under his breath, stepping back as he pointed his wand at his stomach. He muttered some sort of a healing spell, which seemed to staunch the bleeding. The fabric remained dotted with colour.  

“Did something happen at work?” Remus inquired, stepping closer again. At the same time, Sirius took another step backwards. He shook his head.  

“No.”  

“Oh, come on. You can tell me. I won’t go tattling to The Daily Prophet.”  

“Nothing happened at work,” Sirius snapped. “Just let it be.” He made to turn around again, and Remus used that moment to jump forward and seize his wrist. He stared at the stain on the shirt.  

“Show me,” he commanded.  

“No,” Sirius said.  

“You’re bleeding! Let me be the one to patch you up for a change, eh?” He attempted a smile, but Sirius didn’t return it. He merely shook his head again and swallowed harshly. “Please,” Remus insisted. “Did you walk into a fence? Is that why you’re embarrassed to show it?” He reached down and began lifting the hem of Sirius’s shirt, but the other man curled a hand around his wrist.  

“Don’t,” he said, stiffly. “Not now, Remus.”  

“I think now’s a great time, actually, since you haven’t bled dry yet.”  

“It’s just a little scratch. Nothing to lose your sleep over.”  

“Okay? Just show it to me, then.”  

“No.”  

Remus stretched his arm out again and let his fingers graze Sirius’s stomach. The Auror winced, his expression suppressed.  

“Sirius. Let me see.”  

Sirius hesitated but, in the end, lifted his hands to the buttons of his shirt and began easing them open, revealing more skin inch by inch. When his shirt slipped open, he looked a little frightened and seemed to shrink under Remus’s gaze. It was very out of character for him.  

Remus’s stomach dropped as it dawned on him. “Sirius...” he whispered, touching the blood-red wounds carefully. “Did I do this to you?”  

“It’s nothing, Remus,” Sirius insisted, but his eyes were wide as saucers. Remus’s heart sank. Was Sirius afraid of him? With a wound like this, he ought to be. He ought to have kicked Remus out immediately after he was able to apparate without help.  

“What happened?” he stammered. “I can’t... I can’t remember anything! You said it went well!”  

“You were just a little… irritated. It’s my fault, I kept trying to playfight you. I should’ve just stopped.”

“You know it wasn’t your fault.”  

“This is exactly why I didn’t tell you!” Sirius gushed. “I knew you’d forbid me from coming again, and that’s not what I want!”  

“I could’ve killed you!”  

“I don’t need you blaming yourself for this! I’m fine, Remus, can’t you see?!”  

Remus took a sudden step towards him. Sirius promptly flinched back, and Remus halted, feeling like something was squeezing tightly around his throat. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered. “I know you’re... Merlin, it must’ve hurt so much. I’m sorry, Sirius. I shouldn’t have let you come.”  

Sirius sighed, rubbing his fingers over eyes. “If I was really hurt, I would’ve told you sooner. This,” he gestured to his torso, “is only a small scrape. But maybe I shouldn’t have expected everything to go perfectly. I just thought that...” He trailed off, turning to stare at the floor, as if it was too difficult for him to look at Remus. “I was too confident. You were right, I rushed into things. Last time... I rode that high for days, okay? And I thought you’d be better off with me when you turn, rather than being completely alone.”  

Remus closed his eyes and began to say something – what, he didn’t know – but Sirius hurried to continue, “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it again! I know you’d never purposefully harm me, Remus, not even when you’re a wolf. I’ll be more cautious next time.”  

“You’re not coming again,” Remus said incredulously. “Are you mad? I won’t take a risk like that!”  

“You’re overreacting.”  

“You could be seriously injured right now, and if I can’t even be sure you’re going to tell me if something does go wrong…”  

“I will! This morning, I just didn’t want to freak you out.”  

“You’re the one who’s freaked out here! And for a reason!”  

“I’m just… disappointed in myself. I really thought we’d have a wonderful night and you’d wake up elated that you’d agreed to let me come with you, and when that didn’t happen… I don’t want this to change anything. I’m not afraid of you, Remus. I’m afraid of scaring you away.”  

“You?” Remus echoed, laughing manically. “You’re afraid that you are going scare me away?! With what, exactly?”  

Sirius huffed. “Forget about it,” he said. “I’m fine, I promise you. Once the wound stops bleeding, I won’t even remember it exists. Now, go to bed already. I’ve a day off tomorrow, so you don’t have to keep yourself company all day.”  

“But…”  

“I’ll sleep in the guest room,” Sirius said again, turning towards the door one final time. “Good night, Remus.”  

“Sirius—”  

“I’ll see you in the morning.”  

He was left standing there, dumbfounded and overflowing with guilt. For someone who claimed not to be frightened, Sirius was certainly doing a good job at avoiding him.  

*** 

The night passed slowly; Remus’s brain gave him no peace and he rolled around for hours. The duvet felt suffocating on top of him, but when he kicked it off, the cold air around him made him shiver. He felt stupid that he was sleeping in Sirius’s bed when the man himself had chosen to relocate to a guestroom in his own house. But more than that, he felt terrible about having hurt Sirius during the full moon.

Why had he done it? He couldn’t remember what had gone through the wolf’s mind, nor could he really recall what he’d thought before the transformation had even happened. He should have put a stop to Sirius’s demands of joining him the second it happened – he should have known not to trust himself.  

It was five in the morning when he finally gave up and resolved to go and make himself a cup of tea. He pulled on a jumper and tiptoed down into the kitchen, aiming to not wake up Sirius or any of the paintings along the way. Once he had got the kettle boiling, he leaned onto the counter and let out a heavy sigh. His brain was telling him to make a graceful exit, but he knew he owed it to Sirius now to at least stick around until he woke up.

Once his tea was ready, he padded back to the staircase and did his best to dodge the creaky steps. He had thought it wasn’t possible for the house to get any creepier, but this early, still-dark hour of the day was quickly proving him wrong. The corridor was lit only by a wan streak of moonlight, and he kept his eyes resolutely off the house elf heads above him on the wall. He slipped inside the sitting room on the second floor and turned the light on quietly.  

With his mug of tea in his hand, he made his way over to the sofa and sat down, bringing his knees to his chest. He regretted not having brought a blanket now, but he was too afraid he would wake Sirius up if he went to fetch one. In the lack of anything to heat himself up with, he wrapped his free arm around himself, burying his hand between his other arm and his side while he sipped on the tea. It did little to warm him up, but he supposed the haunted atmosphere of the room was partly to blame for that.   

After a moment, his eyes found the books in the glass cabinet on the far wall of the room. He stood up and padded to them, eager to find something to pass the time, but the first book he opened ended up shouting a litany of nasty words at his face. He slammed it shut, wincing as the sound echoed around the room. He didn’t dare test his luck with the rest of the opuses, and so he ended up returning to his spot on the sofa.  

He couldn’t understand how anyone could call such a house home. If he were Sirius, he would sell the place and find something nicer. Something smaller.  

He lied down on his side and, after some minutes of listening to the eerie quietness surrounding him, drifted to sleep.  

Chapter Text

Three gentle knocks woke him up. Remus looked blearily towards the doorway, where Sirius was standing, leaning onto the doorframe. He had his arms folded over his chest and an amused smile on his face. “I did say you could sleep in my room,” he said.  

Remus sat upright, rubbing at his sore neck. He must have fallen asleep in a bad position. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “Wasn’t meant to doze off here.”  

Sirius walked further into the room, coming to stand right in front of him, looking like he wanted to say something. Remus used his moment of uncertainty to his advantage and tentatively moved aside the silk robe Sirius had on over his pyjama trousers. To his surprise, Sirius didn’t stop him.  

“It looks better,” he said, quietly. He grazed his fingers over the marks. He couldn’t believe they were from his own claws.  

Sirius looked down at him sadly. “It’s not going to heal any faster, no matter how much you chastise yourself,” he responded.  

Remus looked up to his eyes and swallowed. “It’ll never fully heal, anyway. How do you think I got all my scars?”  

“I know, Remus.” Sirius guided Remus’s hand away and retied the belt of his robe. “It doesn’t matter. I know you didn’t mean to do anything.”  

“But...”  

“You were agitated, clearly, and I still kept trying to play with you. I should’ve backed off, but I was being stupidly careless. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”  

Remus heaved in a deep breath. He supposed Sirius was right in that it was no good, dwelling on it forever. The only thing he could do was make sure it would never happen again.  

“Are you hungry?” Sirius asked.  

Remus nodded, mutely. Together, they headed into the kitchen, where Sirius began preparing breakfast. He did it by hand, turning the stove on and cutting each fruit slowly. Remus watched him. He was unable to stop his mind from wandering to the full moon. He had no recollection of the night’s events whatsoever, but his brain was great at painting pictures.  

“I don’t understand why you still want me here,” he said quietly.  

Sirius halted but didn’t turn to face him. He moved the pan off the stove. “You’ll get it, eventually.”  

“Was that a threat?”  

“No.”  

“It sounded like one.”  

“Well, it wasn’t.”  

He continued working, back turned towards Remus. Everything he did, he did loudly – getting the plates out, pouring the tea, closing the cupboards. It was like he was deliberately trying to fill the space with noise.  

“You think I’m unpredictable, don’t you?” Remus inquired. It must have been true, especially since the last full moon.  

“Or maybe,” Sirius sighed, planting his hands firmly on the counter, “I want you around.” He waved his wand, flying all the dirty dishes into the sink. “I thought I’d made that clear already.” 

Remus didn’t know what to say, so he just kept looking at the back of Sirius’s head and let the words sink in. He felt so conflicted. It would be simpler if he went back to Marlene. But at the same time, his list of excuses for staying was getting longer by the hour.  

He couldn’t deny the wants he had. He liked the company, even if he claimed he wanted to be alone. Sirius taking care of him after the moon had made him weirdly flustered. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about tearing the other man’s clothes off, not once, but he couldn’t help the lingering gazes and his rapid heartbeat.

But if he let his guard down, bad things would happen. One of them had to hold onto their sense.  

“I’m out of honey,” Sirius said. “Sorry, you’ll have to do without.”  

He was out of honey. He knew how Remus liked his tea.  

“I’ll make you a bed in the guest room tonight. I don’t know why you insist on sleeping on that sordid couch.” 

It was all too much. 

Remus didn’t even have to think about acting on it. His legs walked him to where Sirius was standing at the counter, mixing milk into his tea. None of it made sense. And for that reason, he let himself wrap his arms around Sirius slowly, bending to hover his lips near his ear. Sirius went still, setting the bottle of milk on the counter. “Remus.”  

“Hm?”  

“What are you doing?”  

Gently, Remus pressed his lips to the side of Sirius’s neck, his hands simultaneously prying open the silk robe he was wearing. He grazed his fingers over the bare skin of Sirius’s stomach. “Do you want me to stop?” he breathed. He trailed his hand lower.  

Sirius sighed, allowing his head to fall back. “No.”

“No?”  

“No, I don’t want you to stop.”

Remus pulled him closer, letting his mouth roam around as much of Sirius’s skin as he could reach. Sirius’s breaths came quickly, his body going slack against Remus’s. “Where’s this coming from?” he breathed. 

Placing his hands on Sirius’s hips, Remus guided him to turn around. He let himself gather his thoughts for a moment as he stared into Sirius’s eyes. They were rounder than usual, perhaps a little lustful.  

It was hard to admit. He wasn’t sure he actually even felt it. It came and went like waves, rocking and jostling him this way and that. Maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him; maybe he had just gotten used to this dance of theirs. But in that moment, it felt real.  

“Maybe I want you around, too,” he whispered.  

Sirius looked him in the eyes for a long time without saying anything. He probably had a whole machinery going off in his head, just trying to figure out what Remus was implying. Remus knew he was being incoherent. That was the way he had been this whole time they’d known each other. He couldn’t give Sirius one answer; he couldn’t decide between hot and cold. And yet, Sirius still stuck around.  

“I don’t think you know what you want, Remus Lupin,” Sirius whispered eventually. He looked a little sad. “You say one thing and do the other. You say you know yourself and then you act against everything you claim to believe in.” He took Remus’s hand in his and brought it to his chest, where his heart was thundering beneath his skin. “Maybe you want me around, but neither you nor I know whether that’s going to be true tomorrow, too.”  

Remus swallowed. Slowly, it dawned on him. “Maybe I don’t know,” he whispered. “But I’ve detached every part of myself and given it all to you, Sirius. That has to mean something.”  

For a few seconds, nothing happened. Sirius seemed to be holding his breath. Then he surged forward and pressed their mouths together so vigorously that it sent Remus stumbling backwards. He hit the dining table, then promptly whirled them both around to pin Sirius against it, a hand curling into the front of his shirt. He leaned over him, unable to control himself. 

Sirius was panting, squirming slightly as Remus pressed his back against the tabletop. A slow smile rose on his lips. “You had me fooled, Lupin,” he breathed. “I think you do know what you want.”  

“Piss off,” Remus grunted. He bent to kiss Sirius’s neck, then lower, down his chest. He pushed aside the silk robe to reveal more skin. “This stupid thing,” he murmured.  

“You like it,” Sirius teased. He got his elbows beneath him and pushed himself up just enough to bring their noses close together. “Breakfast’s getting cold.”  

“Good thing I’m not hungry.”  

“Ooh, naughty.”  

“Why don’t you take me upstairs already?”  

“Why don’t you take me right here?” Sirius grinned at his expression, sliding his hands to Remus’s back and digging his nails in. “Or is the big bad wolf too sca—” He gasped and cut himself off as Remus’s hand curled around his throat. In his eyes, Remus could see an excited glint.  

A million things were going on in his mind, and at the same time, his head was empty. He was a little scared of himself after what had happened during the full moon. What if he had lost his ability to control his anger? He wanted Sirius, but he didn’t want to do anything for the wrong reasons.

He released his grip, and Sirius let his head fall back onto the table, looking disappointed. He sat up as Remus stepped back. It was awfully quiet again, all of a sudden.

“Everything okay?” Sirius inquired.  

“I’m not sure I’m in the right mindset for this.”  

“Okay. If you don’t want to—”  

“I want to. But it wouldn’t be fair to you.” If he acted on a whim, he might come to regret it. He was pulling hard, then shoving back. Sirius at least deserved to know what he was signing himself up for.  

“You know, now’s not the time to follow your moral compass, Remus,” his companion said, reaching out to trail his thumb over Remus’s lower lip. “I don’t care. I want you.”  

“And what if tomorrow, I feel differently?” Remus whispered, thinking back to Sirius’s earlier words.

“I said, I don’t care.”  

Remus sighed, letting his hand return to Sirius’s chest. He trailed it lower, his fingers gentle over the still unhealed scars there. He pushed the robe off Sirius’s shoulders to see it all. Sirius halted, dropping his hand to the table in surrender. He didn’t shy away even when Remus openly stared at the fresh scars.  

“It must’ve hurt.”  

“We already had this conversation. I told you, it’s better already. I’d nearly forgotten about it.”  

Remus tutted. “You heard what I said. Pay attention to tense.”  

“Okay, well, it did. Hurt, I mean. But what did I expect?”  

“Have you at least done something to it? I know they can sting for days, and even though you can’t really heal them properly, there are ways to make them less—”  

“Yes, Remus,” Sirius cut in. “I paid a visit to Marlene and Dorcas yesterday. You know, because Dorcas is a Healer and all. She gave me a potion for the pain and did a few spells on the wound. I’m good as ever.”  

Remus’s stomach twisted uneasily. “So, they know?”  

“I told them it was my fault. I said we’d just got a little carried away while playfighting. They didn’t seem sceptical, so you don’t have to worry.”  

Before Remus could adopt a self-pitying look on his face, Sirius was already kissing him again. He brought his lips to Remus’s ear and breathed out heavily. It shouldn’t have made Remus feel as flustered as it did. “I know I already told you to forget it, but knowing you, you never will,” Sirius whispered. “But whenever you feel bad about accidentally hurting me, think of all those times I had you tied up with ropes. I think I’ve caused you more pain than the other way around.”  

Remus closed his eyes, fighting a shiver. “I won’t lie to you,” he said, “I never really minded.”  

Sirius pulled back and raised his brows. “And there I was, thinking I had you in a chokehold.”  

“In a way, you did. But it could’ve been worse. I think you let me get away pretty easily.”  

“It did turn into a bit of game, didn’t it? They probably would’ve demoted me immediately if they’d seen how shitty I was at keeping you at bay.”  

“I think they would’ve fired you.”  

Sirius snorted. “You’re probably right. Good thing you didn’t rat me out.”  

“And stop you from tying me up? As if.”  

Sirius smirked slyly, dragging his forefinger from Remus’s lips all the way to down to his navel. “You know, if you really are that into being tied up...”  

Remus huffed, his cheeks flushing. “Fuck off,” he said, accompanied by the sound of Sirius’s delighted laughter.  

Things escalated quite quickly from there. Remus was soon hovering over him again, pulling his pyjama bottoms off and tossing them to the floor. The table they were leaning against was probably antique and worth a fair amount of money, but Sirius didn’t seem too concerned as he dug his nails into the skin of Remus’s back.  

Afterwards, they were both panting heavily, sweaty skin stuck to sweaty skin. They ate breakfast in silence, exchanging looks but not words, after which Remus relocated to the den with a book. Sirius showered and said he needed to pay a visit to the Ministry, although it was his day off. Remus didn’t mind. He needed the quiet to let himself think.  

He felt oddly calm about having got so intimate with Sirius. For the first time since their quest to make the godforsaken bracelets, there had seemed to be an air of trust between them. It had felt like a release, in more ways than one. Perhaps they had both wanted it for a long time, the thought kept securely at the backs of their minds, holding back only for the sake of others.   

He could still picture what Sirius’s hands had felt like on his skin, in his hair, everywhere he could reach. It sent a wave of thrill through him as he lay there with his book. He tried to push away the fact it was Sirius he had had sex with, but it was difficult – not because he felt guilty, but because he felt excited. He knew he had every right to shag whoever he pleased, but with Sirius, it still felt somehow unacceptable. Only, finally, he was done scolding himself about it. Maybe he was a werewolf and Sirius an Auror, but that wasn’t all they were. 

He sat with this thought as he slowly worked his way through the book. When Sirius came back two hours later, he was still glued to his spot, mind reeling into places it maybe shouldn’t have.

The other man stopped in the doorway, looking surprised but pleased. “You’re still here,” he observed, walking further in.  

Remus set his book aside and nodded. “Still here.”  

Sirius smiled, kneeling beside the sofa and bending to kiss Remus’s lips. Remus sat up a little, that same thrill hammering inside his chest again. “How was work?”  

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”  

“No attacks? Nothing?”  

“Let’s not talk about it.” Sirius’s tone was kind but very firm, and Remus got the hint. He let his head drop back and closed his eyes.  

“This morning...”  

“I knew you were going to worry about that this whole time I was gone.”  

“I’m not worried,” Remus whispered. “It was... nice.”  

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Nice? Merlin, you sure do know how to make a man feel good about himself.”  

Remus smiled. “All I’m saying is that I wouldn’t mind if it happened again...”  

Sirius smiled back, getting up and promptly climbing on top of him, bringing their faces close together. “Me neither,” he said.  

Remus kissed him, deeply. Everything went blurry when Sirius was this close to him, but he wasn’t sure when the change had happened. He hadn’t always been this easy to lead off the path.  

Just as Sirius had managed to unbutton his shirt, a peculiar sound coming from the other side of the room interrupted them. They both flinched and turned to look at the fireplace, which had begun crackling ominously of its own accord. The embers shifted, sparks flying this way and that, and finally, a man’s voice said, “Black? Are you there?”  

Sirius clambered up, rushing to the fireplace and dropping to his knees. “Moody?” he said. Remus sat up too, trying to peer at the hearth. “I’m here.”  

“Are you alone?” the man asked.  

“No.”  

“Who is it?”  

“A friend.”  

“Does your friend have a name?”  

“He does. It’s not relevant, though.”  

“Not anyone I might know?”  

“I trust him.”  

“Okay,” the man said, slowly. “And I trust you, Black.”  

“Did something happen?” Sirius had begun redoing the buttons on his shirt. He sounded mildly anxious.  

“I know it’s your day off, but this is urgent.”  

“I’m not busy.”  

Moody began telling him something, his voice too low for Remus to hear. He craned his neck from his spot on the sofa and could just about make out the face embedded in the coals. He could easily put the name to its face – he had seen Alastor Moody on the newspapers a number of times, most often on the front page.  

Moody and Sirius exchanged a few more words in hushed voices, and no matter how hard Remus tried to focus, he couldn’t make out a word of what they said. It must have been something of great importance, though, for Sirius’s fists curled around the carpet that lay beneath his knees.  

“Thank you, Moody,” he said eventually, sitting back on his heels. His shoulders were set rigidly.  

“Of course,” Moody replied, sounding grave. “Take care, Black, and don’t waste time. It’s a good thing we found out now.”  

Sirius nodded, stiffly. The coals shifted again, and Moody was gone. Sirius stood up and turned to look at Remus, his face wiped of all humour.  

Remus clambered up. “What is it?” he inquired.  

“It’s Harry,” Sirius said, hoarsely. “We need to go.”  

*** 

Remus sat in the kitchen and listened to Sirius and James’s voices through the closed door. He wasn’t trying to listen, but they were practically yelling, leaving him with little choice. He wished Sirius had left him at Grimmauld Place instead.  

“You’re telling me,” James’s hoarse voice said, “that he’s planning on biting Harry?”  

“That’s what he’s said, apparently,” Sirius responded, gravely. “Moody came to me and said that Fenrir’s been talking again. He’s mentioned you and Lily before, as you know, but now... somehow, he knows about Harry.”  

James let out a sound that resembled a sob. “No,” he muttered. “No, no, no...”  

“I’m so sorry, Prongs. I know this is terrible, but at least we found out now. It’s not too late. And maybe Fenrir’s just seeding terror, but I’d rather not risk it. You’re safe for now—Harry’s safe for now—but we need to be prepared. If Fenrir ever gets out... we need to be able to get you to safety on a second’s notice.”  

The conversation paused there, momentarily. Remus had buried his face in his hands during Sirius’s speech. The guilt was unbearable. He was the reason Fenrir was threatening little Harry. His selfish actions were why James, Lily, and Harry possibly needed to go into hiding. At the moment, the latter two were out shopping; James had said so when they arrived, but they were set to be back any minute now. Remus wasn’t sure he was ready to face them. 

“But…” James said then, weakly, “How are we going to do that? If Fenrir really is with Voldemort like they say he is, then what’s going to stop them from sniffing us out?”  

“The Fidelius Charm.”  

The whole house fell silent, it seemed, even the clocks on the walls. Remus lifted his head from his hands and stared at the door. “The Fidelius Charm?” James repeated, sounding just as shocked as Remus felt.  

“Yes,” Sirius confirmed. “It’s the only way. I’m sorry, but I won’t risk Harry’s life if there’s anything I can do to help. And I know you won’t, either.”  

“Of course not,” James said immediately. “But… Why? Why is this happening? Why Harry?”  

Because of me, Remus thought ruefully. Come here and shout at me, please, not at him. I deserve it.  

“I know.” Sirius sounded like he was crying. James definitely was. “I know, Prongs. I wish it was any other way, but… we need to play it safe. We need to do what it takes. If it comes to it, Harry needs to be hidden. All of you need to be hidden.”  

“Not me,” James countered. “I need to be at work, you know I do. It’s a chaos out there anyway, and the more people we have, the better.”  

Sirius was quiet for a moment, inevitably debating this in his head, but then he sighed. “James. I know you think that, but wouldn’t it be better for you to be with them? And like I said, this is only a plan for if Fenrir gets out…”   

James swallowed, hard. “No, you’re right. I need to be with them.”  

“Good. I suggest you keep your bags packed, just in case.”  

“Does Remus know?”  

“I briefed him before we came here, so he at least knows parts of what’s going on.”  

“Listen, I know you trust him, Sirius, but… why do I feel like this wouldn’t have happened if—?”   

“Prongs. I get that you’re angry and scared, and—you’re right to be, and I am too, but… none of this is Remus’s fault. The last thing he wants is for something bad to happen to Harry, or you, or Lily. He would let Fenrir kill him instead of you if he had the choice. But Fenrir’s a psychopath; this is basically his area of expertise, turning children into werewolves, and—I’m sorry!”  

James had burst into sobs, by the sounds of it. Remus bit down hard on his fist. Sirius was both right and wrong: Remus would rather get himself killed instead of Harry or his parents. But despite what Sirius kept insisting on, all of this really was Remus’s fault, no matter which way you looked at it.  

“Mate, I… I know this is rough. Believe me, I’d rather be anywhere but here right now. But we need to act sensibly. We need to make sure you’re safe. I couldn’t bear losing…”  

James let out a suppressed sob. “I know, Padfoot, you’re right. It’s just… this isn’t how it was supposed to go. Any of it. The war should be over by now!”  

“I know… I know.”  

An eerie silence followed. Tick, tick, tick, went the clock on the wall. Remus’s fingernails were nearly bitten enough to reveal the tender skin beneath them. He lowered his hand, thinking about apparating off, but then James opened his mouth again. “Will you be our Secret Keeper? You’re the obvious choice.”  

The words that then came out of Sirius’s mouth sounded heavy and apologetic, “I am the obvious choice. Which is why I don’t think you should choose me.”  

“But… why? I trust you more than anyone, Sirius. You should be our Secret Keeper. Please.”  

“I’m already on Fenrir’s blacklist, thanks to… well, everything. He’s possibly trying to screw me over anyway. I think we should choose someone who he won’t think to suspect right away. I’d never reveal your whereabouts, James, you know that, but you’ll be safer if we go for someone less… obvious.”  

“What about Remus, then? You trust him, and Fenrir would never think we’d make him our Secret Keeper.”  

Remus jerked his head up, whispering no to himself frantically at least a dozen times as he rose to his feet. Was James being genuine? Would he really have considered trusting his life in Remus’s hands? Was he out of his mind?!  

Sirius sighed, remorsefully. “James, he… he’s in the same position as I am. Fenrir’s already dreaming of killing him, most likely. You’re right, he’d be a surprising choice, but it wouldn’t be safe.”  

“What’d be a better way of proving your trust, huh?”   

“James! I’m not going to prove to him he has my trust by putting him in a tough spot and guilting him into risking his life! He wouldn’t do it anyway.”  

Thank you, Remus thought, selfishly. He would rather have died than watched Harry die. But he didn’t think he deserved James’s trust in something as large-scale as this.  

“I’m going to ask him,” said James, determinedly. Remus could hear his footsteps approaching.  

“He’s going to say no.”  

“I’m still going to ask him.”  

The door opened shortly and James peered in, his glasses askew on his nose. He met Remus’s eyes and raised his brows. “Will you be our Secret Keeper? If we need to go into hiding?”  

“You’re asking him for too much,” Sirius grumbled in the background.  

James shot a glare over his shoulder, but then his eyes were back on Remus, questioning and hopeful. He even cracked a small smile. It looked a little challenging. “Well?”  

“No!” Remus gushed, much more aggressively than he intended. He stared at James in bewilderment. “Of course not, James! Why would you want me to be your Secret Keeper?”  

James blinked at him. “I told you so,” came Sirius’s voice before he appeared at James’s side. He smiled apologetically at Remus. “I’m sorry. I would’ve recommended you myself if the situation wasn’t what it is.”  

“I don’t want to be responsible for your life, James,” Remus whispered, shaking his head slowly. “I’d never put you at risk deliberately, but… I don’t think I’m the right choice for this.”  

James swallowed and turned to look at Sirius with helpless eyes. “Who are we going to ask, then? If neither of you are up for it.” 

Sirius stared back at him and swallowed hard. To Remus, it seemed like he couldn’t come up with a good enough option. “Fine. I’ll do it,” he said. “If you need to hide, then… I’ll be your Secret Keeper.”  

James inhaled sharply, and then he was sobbing again, his face buried into Sirius’s shoulder. Sirius squeezed him tight and pressed his eyes shut, and Remus wished he wasn’t there to witness it. How could either of these people have wanted him there? How could they look at him?  

“Thank you,” James whispered. Sirius just held him tighter.  

*** 

When Lily arrived back from her trip to Diagon Alley with Harry, the rest of them were all sitting in the living room, full of nervous energy. Peter had joined them too, out of James’s request.  

Harry was a peculiar-looking, sweet boy, with hair as messy as James’s and eyes as bright and curious as Lily’s. He seemed unperturbed by the mass of people in their living room as Lily stepped in and stopped in her tracks. Harry in her arms, she let her eyes rake over each of them in turn. Finally, she looked to James. “What’s going on?”   

James stood up and walked to her with his hands calmingly before him. Remus could see the way they shook. “Lily, my love. I’ll explain everything better later, but right now, all you need to know is that if the time ever comes that Fenrir Greyback gets out of Azkaban, you, Harry, and I must go into hiding.”  

Lily cradled their baby boy closer to her chest. Harry was peering directly at Remus. “What?” she whispered. “What’s happening, James?”  

“Lily.” This was Sirius, who had also stood up from the sofa. He looked gravely at her. “This is unfortunate, I know. Like James said, he’ll explain everything to you once we’ve gone over our plan.”  

“What plan?” Lily demanded, voice wavering. “What’s going on?”  

“Greyback’s threatened to… to find Harry. To bite him. He’s in Azkaban, and he won’t be getting out if we’ve any say in it, but we need to be ready to act. If it happens, we’ll have no time to waste.”  

“But… What? Who—why—why are you all here?” She looked around herself again, and a look of realisation rose slowly to her face. She turned to James and croaked out, “The Fidelius Charm?”  

James nodded. She must have been familiar with the charm – she figured it out quicker than any of them would have.  

“Who…?”  

Sirius took another step towards her. “I’ll do it,” he said, gently. “If that’s okay with you. This isn’t immediate, Lily, it’s just a precautionary plan for the worst-case scenario. We’re lucky Moody came straight to me.”  

Lily nodded, hesitantly, and for the first time since arriving, she looked more confident than frightened. “Alright,” she said, presumably attempting to sound brisk, but her hands were shaking, betraying her. “Thank you, Sirius. You know we appreciate it.”  

Sirius smiled warmly at her, if a little sadly. James placed his hand on his partner’s back. “I know this is terrifying, Lils, but it’s for the best. And like Sirius said, it’s only a precaution. We’ve nothing to worry about right now, and Harry will be safe as long as he’s with us.”  

Lily nodded meekly, and it seemed she was holding onto Harry like she might die if she let go. “What do we do next?” she asked, eyes flitting from James to Sirius.   

“Go pack your things,” Sirius said, gently. “And then we wait.”   

*** 

Once Lily and James were back in the den, having packed most of their vital belongings into a charmed-big bag, she went to hug Sirius, Harry still in her arms. “I’m scared,” she muttered, quietly but so that they could all hear.  

“We all are,” Sirius whispered into her hair. “But now we’ll know what to do. I feel much calmer knowing that we’ve agreed on a plan. Fenrir won’t be able to surprise us now.”  

Lily pulled away and nodded. Sirius smiled sadly and stroked the dark hairs on top of Harry’s small head. It looked like he might burst into tears again.  

Lily turned to James then and handed Harry to him, and James pulled her to his side and kissed the top of her head. “We’re fine,” she whispered. “We’ll be fine.”  

Remus stood awkwardly to the side, feeling more like an intruder than ever. Sirius hugged Lily again, then James, and then took Harry into his arms and muttered something to him, pulling funny faces and making him laugh. James’s trembling hand fumbled for Lily’s.  

“We should go,” Sirius said, finally averting his eyes from his godson. He handed him back to his father and touched his hand to James’s arm. “See you at work tomorrow. And you, Lily. Stay safe, all of you.”  

James and Lily both nodded. Harry reached for Sirius again, a smile budding on his lips. Sirius tapped thr boy’s nose gently with his finger and then turned to Remus. “Shall we?”  

*** 

Back at Grimmauld Place, Remus and Sirius stared at each other quietly for a long moment. Sirius looked vulnerable and stiff as a board, and just as Remus opened his mouth to apologise for screwing everything up once again, Sirius crashed right into him. “Shh,” he hushed, holding Remus by the back of the head with one hand, the other on his back. “I’m sorry.”  

“You’re sorry?” Remus echoed, pulling back to look at him incredulously. “Sirius, why the fuck are you sorry?”  

“It was supposed to be a nice day.”  

“Wasn’t in your hands, what happened.”  

“I’m just glad I’m not alone right now.”  

“Are you okay?”  

“I am now that I know they’re safe.” The look on Sirius’s face was enough to swipe Remus off his feet. He ducked down and kissed him, tangling his fingers into his curls. Sirius yanked him closer and ran his hands hungrily over Remus’s chest.  

“Maybe we shouldn’t—” Remus began, but he was cut off by Sirius’s fingers pressing to his lips.  

“I’m the one asking for a distraction now,” he breathed, nodding reassuringly. “Please.”  

And Remus kissed him again, because if the only thing he could offer Sirius right now was a distraction, and if that was what Sirius was asking for, then it was what he was going to give him. He backed them up against a wall and slid his hands beneath Sirius’s shirt, drawing gasp after gasp from him. Sirius wound his fingers into Remus’s hair and kissed him roughly.  

He abandoned Sirius’s lips and moved instead to his neck, beginning to fumble with the zipper of his trousers. He hated himself for being so flustered. Sirius looked down, then back up. “What’re you doing?” he panted.  

Remus grinned. “Distracting you.”  

Just as he was about to lower onto his knees, the door to his left swung open. In strode Peter, looking tousled but somewhat relieved. His eyes fell on them, and he promptly covered them with a hand. “I’m sorry!” he shrieked, “Merlin, I—” He stumbled back in a blind search for the door and hit his hip on the corner of a table. Sirius barked a laugh as he zipped his trousers back up. Remus stepped back, mortified.  

“It’s alright, mate,” Sirius said. “You can look, promise I’m not naked.”  

Tentatively, Peter lifted his hand off his eyes, revealing the awkward grimace on his face. He looked like he had come straight from the Antarctica with his cheeks so red. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I just came by to ask you… well, if it’s true what they say about Fenrir. I would’ve asked James but I didn’t want to bother them any more. Is Greyback really planning to…?”  

Sirius shook his head and shrugged. “We don’t know, Pete. But we must act as if it’s true.”  

Peter nodded, swallowing nervously. “Right…”  

Remus looked away. He had no right to be there. He should have gone to Marlene’s directly after the full moon and stayed there. Now the lives of three people were in his hands – if not more.  

“Do you want tea?” Sirius asked, stepping towards the door. “I’ve rum, too, if you’d like. We can talk more about it, or… not talk?”   

Peter shook his head, quickly. He let out a small chuckle. “I shouldn’t. I… I think you were busy with something.” If possible, he blushed even more. The red tips of his ears poked out from beneath his mousy brown hair. He glanced quickly at Remus, only to tear his gaze away and back to Sirius. “I’ll see you,” he said. “Goodnight.”  

Sirius nodded. “Good night, Pete. Talk to you soon, yeah?”   

Peter smiled and nodded. “Sure thing. Bye.”   

He quickly fled the house, after which Sirius burst out laughing. He rested his forehead on Remus’s shoulder and chuckled quietly to himself. “Jesus Christ. If he’d come in half a minute later…”  

Remus shook his head, his eyes still on the door. He couldn't quite force a smile onto his face. “Luck was on our side. And his.”   

Chapter Text

In the morning when Sirius left for work, Remus slipped out of the door behind him with his rucksack slung over his shoulder. He had agreed to go and spend a few nights at Marlene’s, who had been bombing him with owls for quite some time already. Sirius had proposed that they should simply ask her to come to Grimmauld Place for dinner, but Remus had put a hard stop to those plans. The last thing he needed was for things to get even weirder, and that would’ve certainly happened, had he and Sirius started hosting dinner parties together.  

Sirius bid him farewell and apparated away, Remus right after him. He landed at the end of Marlene and Dorcas’s street and took to a leisurely pace as he headed towards the house. It was a beautiful day out, crisp and sunny, and if he didn’t think too much about yesterday, he was able to muster a smile.  

Marlene greeted him happily, smooching his cheek loudly enough for the whole neighbourhood to hear. She ushered him inside and directly into the living room, where Dorcas was sitting on the sofa, a pair of knitting needles swinging in front of her, producing what seemed to be a dark green quilt. “It’s good to see you, Remus,” she said, kindly. “I’m just knitting a blanket for Harry.”  

Remus smiled at her as he sat down, grateful for the cosy atmosphere in the room. He immediately felt calmer. “How are things?” he asked, glancing first at Dorcas, then Marlene. 

“Same old,” Dorcas shrugged.  

“Yeah, pretty much,” Marlene agreed. “They’ve kept us both busy at work, but luckily, we managed to get today off. Nearly a week passed during which we hardly saw each other.” 

“The evening shifts at St. Mungo’s,” Dorcas huffed, shaking her head. “I’m glad I got the spot, but they sure don’t let us off easy. And there was another disappearance just the other day, one of our Healers... You must’ve seen it in the Prophet. Horrible, horrible stuff.”  

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Remus frowned. “I, uh... I’ve had a lot of stuff going on, must’ve missed it in the paper. Sounds terrible.”  

“They’re happening way too often for my liking,” Dorcas nodded. “I can’t imagine what all those people’s families are going through.”  

“Tell me about it,” Marlene sighed. She patted Remus gently on the knee. “Well? How have you been? Quiet, at least. Nearly ran out of parchment, sending you all those owls.”  

“I’m sorry!” Remus said, looking at her apologetically. “I should’ve gotten back to you earlier…”  

“I’m just glad you’re here now. How are things? I take it you’ve permanently moved out of The Leaky Cauldron?”  

Remus shifted uncomfortably, feeling rather trapped. “You’ve spoken to Sirius?”  

“Well, he did stop by a couple of days ago… and you have been spending a lot of time with him.”  

“I… well, you’re right. I’ve been staying at his house. But it’s not like I’ve… moved in or anything.” Remus let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Of course not. It’s just been easier. I am planning on paying him back somehow.”  

“I’m sure he doesn’t mind.”  

“Of course, he doesn’t,” he said, pointedly. “But I do.”  

Staying at Sirius’s house had indeed been a great help for him. Before, he had been able to pay for his stays at The Leaky Cauldron – but back then, more than half his time had been spent outdoors with the pack, a life free of costs. He could not afford that now, unless he was to buy a tent and spend his nights camping. He was more than grateful to Sirius, of course, but he wasn’t planning on staying at Grimmauld Place forever. He was already too embarrassed about it as it was. And he was going to find a way to pay him back.  

“Sirius may be a prick, but he has a heart the size of ours combined, somewhere hidden inside him. I can guarantee he won’t be happy to see you go. He just wants to help.”  

“I don’t want to be helped,” Remus snapped, sounding more pathetic than he would’ve liked to. “I don’t want to be anyone’s charity case—”  

“You’re not!” Marlene gushed.  

“—and I sure as hell don’t want to sit around all day at his home while he goes to work and makes me dinner and sings me lullabies after he’s tucked me in—”  

“No one’s saying you need to do that,” Marlene cut in, loudly enough for Remus to halt. She fixed him with a stern look. “Of course you don’t have to sit around all day! But you are practically homeless, and if Sirius wants to provide you with a roof on top of your head, then I don’t think you should hold that against him. And I understand that you feel like you don’t deserve it, but you really do, Remus, and if you can’t bear to live there, then leave. But I also know that as much as you hate to be someone’s ward, you don’t entirely hate Sirius’s company.”  

Hate it? Remus practically craved it; drank it like it was the first supply of water he had seen after wandering around a desert for a week. The problem wasn't Sirius or his ability to be present. It was Remus and his lack of.  

“He won’t even accept my gratitude,” he muttered. “I’ve thanked him plenty of times, and he won’t hear it. It’s infuriating – it’s as if he isn’t going through a shit ton of trouble to make sure I’m comfortable! I haven’t asked for any of it.”  

“I know you haven’t,” his friend agreed, mildly. “And like I said, that’s just what Sirius is like. He would do that to anyone he cares about. It’s his way of showing his love, I suppose, those acts of kindness. Mine’s more physical. Yours is…”  

Remus scowled at her. “Do tell me.”  

“You’re very reliable, Remus. You might not always display your affection, but that’s just because you’re quite independent – used to making it on your own, that is. But I don’t ever have to doubt whether you’ll be there to help when I need it. Though I do think you could do with a bit of softening around the edges. Your natural expression’s quite off-putting.”  

A smile tugged at Remus’s lips. “Piss off,” he muttered.  

Marlene smiled. “I’m kidding. But I do think it would do you good to convince Sirius of your gratitude. Not for his sake, but for yours.”  

“But I’ve tried!” he cried, frustratedly. “I told you; I’ve said it to him a million times, and all he does is flick his wrist like he’s just held the door open for me.”  

“You know, maybe he just doesn’t know how to take it in gracefully. He has a way with words, but mostly when they’re not directed at him. He may have an easier time acknowledging your gratitude if you don’t wave it at his face. I’m not saying you’ve done anything wrong, but maybe try a different approach? Maybe words aren’t the way to go here. Perhaps you need to show him.”  

“But how?” Remus asked. He was feeling hopeless. He couldn’t read Sirius on a good day – how was he supposed to know how to transmit thank you through to him without saying the words out loud?  

“Do something for him,” Marlene shrugged. “I know he won’t let you, but do it so that he can’t see it coming. You know, surprise him or something. And it doesn’t have to be anything romantic, as you’ve made it quite clear that’s not what you two are carved out of.”  

Remus smiled amusedly at her. “If you’re suggesting I suck his—”  

“Remus,” Marlene chastised, “I’m trying to help you! Get your mind out of the gutter! I’m sure if that was your way of thanking him, then he would have gotten the message already.” She smirked too, ducking as Remus aimed a playful kick her way.  

“It is a nice way of thanking someone,” Dorcas pointed out, smiling mildly. She had taken to hand-knitting the blanket now, apparently having grown bored of listening to them. She winked at Marlene.  

“I don’t disagree,” Marlene chuckled, “but I think we need to come up with something a little less intense, here. And I know I just said that we should cross out all that romantic rubbish, but would it be absolutely terrible if you cooked for him? Or took him somewhere? To… I don’t know, the movies or something? I know he would die to do ordinary Muggle shit like that for a change.”  

“I don’t know…” Remus mumbled. “Seems a bit pretentious, don’t you think? After the start we’ve had.”  

Marlene lifted one shoulder, considering. “I wouldn’t know. Just think about it, I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”  

Remus looked at his feet and sighed. His thoughts were in no more logical an order than they had been when he arrived.  

*** 

Quite a few hours later, Remus padded upstairs into the room that he was by no means staying in for the first time. He sat down on the bed and sighed. Marlene stepped in behind him and came to sit next to him.  

“Dorcas got a promotion,” she said, smiling tentatively.  

Remus’s eyes snapped up to her and he raised his brows. “Really? That’s wonderful! I’m… I’m sorry, I must’ve ruined the mood.”  

Marlene shook her head. “Not at all. But yeah, it’s great. She’s been working hard, and she’s so clever, I wasn’t even surprised when she got the news. It does mean a bunch more working hours for her, though. Sucks for us, but I’m happy for her.”  

Remus hummed. He felt bad now for having ranted about his own problems. Clearly, it would have been a night for celebration.  

“I’d like for you to be here more often. I know we’ve talked about this before, but regardless of what you think, Remus, I need you, too. You’re not the burden you make yourself to be.”  

Remus reached over to intertwine their fingers. “I’m sorry. Of course, I… I’d love to visit more. I’ve just had my head in the clouds, or—or buried underground, I don’t even know. It’s been weird, these past few weeks.”  

Marlene chuckled, softly. She leaned her head on Remus’s shoulder.  

“I’ve actually been thinking of finding a job,” Remus said, quietly and aloud for the very first time.  

Marlene lifted her head and looked at him curiously. “Really?”  

He nodded. “Now that I’m not with the pack half the time… I need something to do. I need the money.” The thought had been in the back of his head for a few days now, taking up most of the space. He needed to continue his life, even if it looked terribly different now. He no longer had his pack, but that didn’t mean his life was over. At least, that was what he tried to tell himself.  

“Have you applied somewhere already?”  

He shook his head and shrugged, miserably. “I don’t know where. I can’t risk finding a job in the wizarding world, so maybe a Muggle café will have me, or…”  

“I’ll recommend you at Gringotts,” Marlene cut in, eagerly. “There’s a bunch of low-radar work that needs to be done there! I promise they won’t put you in with the dragons.” She nudged him playfully with her elbow.  

Remus laughed despite himself. “No, I can’t possibly… That’s kind of you, Marls, and I appreciate it, really, but I don’t think they’ll want to hire a werewolf.”  

“They don’t know, do they?”  

Remus hesitated. He turned to look at her and swallowed. “I think that when… when things go further, with the war and all... I might not be safe. Lily, James, and Sirius know, but I can’t be sure they’re the only ones.”  

Marlene bit her lip, thoughtfully. “I suppose you’re right... What about Sirius, then? Maybe he’d be able to help?”  

Remus raised one eyebrow. “What, you think they’ll make me Head Auror?”  

“Of course not,” she tutted. “You know that’s not what I meant. I’m just saying, he does have a lot of connections.”  

“Mostly Aurors, though, and I don’t see how that would be of any help. It would only put both me and him at risk.”  

Marlene hummed. “We’ll just have to keep looking, then,” she said. “I know you’d rather not work in the Muggle world.”  

“Maybe not,” he shrugged, “but it would be better than nothing. Of course, I’d have to come up with an excuse for where I go every month…” He trailed off, sighing. He wished it was that simple. Working in the Muggle world would of course be less risky than working among wizards, but was any sane Muggle willing to hire a rogue-looking twenty-seven-year-old man with no formal education and little to no work experience? As far as the real world was concerned, he had been absent for a decade.  

“You’re not in an easy situation, but we’ll figure something out, yeah?”  

“I didn’t tell you this to ask for a favour, I just wanted to—”  

“I know.” Marlene smooched his cheek, lovingly. “We’ll think about it tomorrow. Now, come on, you should go congratulate Dorcas. I’ll pop open the Charmpagne.”  

***

“Have you seen this morning’s Prophet?”  

Remus shook his head, slowly. He didn’t get the Prophet, mostly because he didn’t want to waste his money on it. He always read ones that someone else had abandoned. 

Sirius pulled the paper out from inside his robes, shook it out, and shoved it into Remus’s hands. He set his eyes intently on Remus, who read the headline on the front page, then the short sequence of text beneath it. The magazine dropped out of his grasp and thudded to the floor.  

MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN: DOZENS OF DARK WIZARDS HAVE ESCAPED THE HIGHLY GUARDED PRISON UNDER THE NOSE OF CURRENT MINISTER OF MAGIC, HAROLD MINCHUM  

Early this morning, on Wednesday, September 29th, twenty-six imprisoned dark wizards managed to escape the infamous prison of Azkaban, which has been described as the safest-guarded unit in Europe. The mass breakout happened before dawn. It is yet to be confirmed whether more prisoners have succeeded in escaping since. Among the dozens of now free prisoners are names such as Maximillian Lestrange and Fenrir Greyback, both of whom were captured only last month…   

It felt like all the air had been punched out of Remus. He lost his balance, stumbling to his right until he hit the corner of the kitchen table. Sirius’s hands grasped onto his arms and held him up, but it didn’t help with the dizzying feeling in his head.  

“How?” he croaked out. “How—how did they get out?”  

Sirius shook his head forlornly. “I’ve no idea. Dementors are good at keeping people away, but they aren’t of much help when you’re trying to fish for information. I’m about to go and talk to the department that’s responsible for the safety measures of the prison, but I doubt they know any better than we do. It’s clear they’ve gotten help from someone. No one simply escapes a place like Azkaban.”

Remus’s heartbeats thudded in his head. Fenrir being free meant that Remus was in immediate danger after the trick he pulled. Hell, he was the reason Greyback got put into Azkaban in the first place. But Fenrir being free also meant that…  

“Sirius. Do you have a list of the people who escaped? Do we have all the names?”  

“Of the twenty-six, yes. We don’t know if anyone else has managed to get out afterwards. The place must’ve been a chaos this morning, I wouldn’t be surprised if more people slipped through the Dementors’ fingers.”  

“I need that list,” Remus demanded in panic.  

Sirius’s brows shot up his forehead. “Excuse me?”  

“I need that list.” Remus stepped forward and seized Sirius’s forearm. He breathed in and out heavily. “Fenrir is on that list. And if Fenrir is on that list, then there’s a fat chance a lot of the remaining pack members are on that list, too. Including Altair.”  

Something changed in Sirius’s eyes, and he nodded without further questions. “I’ll check it,” he promised. “But I really need to go now, Remus. We were all called to the spot immediately, I shouldn’t even have come here. But I needed to make sure you know.”

Remus swallowed. “Thank you.”

“And you need to promise me you won’t leave the house. Not before I come back, not even to see Marlene. She knows you’re safe here.”

Once again, he was forced to stay unmoving, unable to help. He couldn’t do anything.

“Remus, please.”

“Fine,” he said, hoarsely. “But Sirius? Be careful.”  

*** 

Sirius was gone for a worryingly long time. Of course, a breakout from Azkaban was bound to keep him busy for the foreseeable future, but Remus felt lonely in the big house. He knew Fenrir was out there, roaming freely and probably planning to hunt him down. He wasn’t going to find his way into Grimmauld Place, but Remus couldn’t live the rest of his life inside four walls – and certainly not these particular ones.

He was sitting at the kitchen table when Sirius returned, which seemed to be the norm now. He stood up, bracing for impact. The news were bound to be bad; there wasn’t a chance they had succeeded in catching anyone within twelve hours.

“Back,” Sirius’s voice called from the hallway.

“In the kitchen,” Remus yelled, his voice cracking a little. He had been eating his own nails all day, but he wasn’t sure whether he was happy or terrified about Sirius’s return. He wasn’t sure he could bear to hear it.

He kept his eyes on the table as footsteps came closer. He hoped to at least hear that the escaped bunch had not managed to do any damage to anyone yet. Likely, they were hiding out and would stay under the radar for the time being.

“Remus?”

The world stopped spinning. 

Remus’s heart skipped a beat, and he lifted his gaze to the doorway. Where he had expected to see Sirius’s tired figure stood that of Altair’s.  

He was moving before he could decipher anything, rounding the table, knocking his foot into a chair’s leg. “Altair?” he heard himself say, and then he was crashing into the other man, hugging his arms tight around him. He couldn’t be anyone else. His scent was so familiar and comforting, Remus could have cried.  

“Hi,” Altair whispered, squeezing him back. “Hi, Remus. You’re okay.”  

The sound that escaped Remus’s throat was ragged and full of relief. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t. But as he held the man before him tightly and inhaled his scent, he simply had to.  

He pulled back, holding his friend’s shoulders and looking from his eyes to his body and back to his face again. Altair was thinner than when he’d last seen him. His ribs were poking out through his ripped shirt, and the hollows of his cheeks stood out even in the dim light. But he was there. Remus hugged him again, swearing never to let go again. 

Altair let out a relieved breath. His face was buried against Remus’s shoulder, and he smelled of the outdoors and sweat, having not showered for what must have been weeks. Remus felt sorry for him. The guilt had been daunting him this whole time, and it seemed its appetite was not yet lost.

“I’m here now, Remus. Everything’s okay.”  

Remus pulled away again, just enough to look him in the face. “Altair, I never meant for you to get caught,” he said with tears in his eyes. “That was what the bracelet was for. It was supposed to protect you. I swear I tried to save you. But I only...” He cut himself off, biting his lip to stop the sobs from coming. “I’m so sorry.”  

“Remus, I know. You needn’t worry. I got out, didn’t I?” Altair offered him a small smile, but his eyes weren’t the same. They had a dark rim around them, the skin of his face yellowy. It seemed he hadn’t slept for days.  

“How?” Remus whispered. “How’d you get out?”  

“It’s a long story. Fenrir got in touch with someone, and they got another person to help, and… the Dementors may be scary, but they’re also daft as fuck. Can’t understand a word you say.”

“But… how did you get past them? And how did you escape the island?”  

Altair huffed. His eyes looked frantic. “I can’t remember half of it. But there were people waiting for us outside of the prison. We got on boats and apparated halfway to the shore. It… it was terrible. Cold and dark and scary. But I knew I was getting out.”  

Remus couldn’t comprehend that Altair was standing in front of him. And even harder for him was to comprehend how anyone could manage to so easily flee Azkaban. In that moment, though, it didn’t matter.  

Remus cupped his friend’s face between his palms and kissed him on the lips, savouring the taste. Words couldn’t describe how much he had missed Altair. He felt his whole body shake now under the other man’s touch.  

“Remus, it’s okay,” Altair whispered again, wiping tears from Remus’s cheeks. “We’re both safe. I’m here.”  

A sound from Remus’s left caught their attention. Sirius had appeared in the doorway, leaning onto the frame of the door with a small smile on his lips. Remus felt a gentle touch on his arm. Altair smiled at him and nodded.

Reluctantly, Remus let go of him. Then he strode across the room and threw himself at Sirius, who stumbled back in surprise. When he caught his balance, he hugged Remus back.  

“Thank you,” Remus whispered, hoarsely. “I... I don’t know what’s happening. Thank you.”  

“The least I could do,” Sirius murmured back, squeezing him once more before pulling back. He smiled again, wanly. “I need to get back to work. Just thought you might like the surprise.” 

“Still? You were gone so long.”  

“I’ll try and be back in a couple of hours. It’s a chaos out there, everyone’s freaking out. Minchum more than anyone.”  

“Sirius, I... I can’t thank you enough.”  

“Remus, I told you. It’s the least I could do after... everything.”  

Remus smiled, feeling tears fall down his face, and stroked Sirius’s cheek with his thumb. He placed a slow kiss on his lips, fearing words might not be enough. They never were.  

“Be careful,” he said, in one breath, feeling his cheeks flush. He felt silly, fearing for the other man’s life when he had never been hesitant to risk his own. But he cared about Sirius, and now more than ever, he was in danger.  

“I always am,” Sirius said. He squeezed Remus’s shoulder and stepped away, turning to nod at Altair. “Make yourself at home.”  

Altair nodded back hesitantly. “Thank you,” he said. “For... for trusting me.”  

“Any time,” Sirius smiled. He looked once more to Remus. “You’re to stay here. Both of you.”  

“And if you don’t show up?”  

“Marlene knows what to do.”  

“Sirius...”  

Sirius shook his head. “I’ll be back before midnight. Promise.”  

Remus nodded, watching as he turned on his heel and disappeared into the hallway again. The front door banged shut, leaving them in silence.  

Remus spun around, tears in his eyes. Altair was smiling at him, looking extremely tired and a little bit uncomfortable in his new surroundings.  

“Do you want to sleep?” Remus asked.  

“I could do with a shower,” Altair winced.  

“Of course. Are you hungry?”  

“A little.”  

“We’ll eat first, okay?”  

Remus didn’t want to push him to talk. He could only imagine how horrible of an experience staying in Azkaban must have been for the pack. Outwardly, Altair looked like all hope had been sucked out of him, but inside, Remus knew the fire was still burning. Altair was so full of warmth, it would have taken more than Dementors to suffocate it.  

They sat down at the kitchen table to have their dinner. Altair ate quietly, tearing meat with his pointed teeth and drinking water like he hadn’t seen any for weeks. Remus watched him, unable to process the fact he was really there. He was alive, he was free, he was right there.  

Once they had finished, Remus cleaned the kitchen while Altair stood in the doorway, looking around like someone might suddenly pop out from around the corner and take him back. But Remus wasn’t going to let him go, not again. He would die before he let anyone touch Altair.  

He swung his wand to fly the dry dishes into their place, then turned around and walked to his friend. He brought his hands to Altair’s shoulders, allowing them to move up and down his arms, then to cup his neck. Altair watched him with heavy lids. He looked so small.  

“I love you,” Remus whispered. “I was so worried, Altair. Every day. There was nothing I could do, and it killed me. I wished I could swap places with you. I would have, in a heartbeat.”  

“I know, Remus,” Altair sighed. “But none of it was your fault.”  

“Yes, it was. All of it was my fault. If I hadn’t got involved with Sirius in the first place, we would be in the forest with the pack right now, waiting for—”  

“If, Remus. There’s no point in ifs. I’m here now.”  

Remus leaned closer to kiss the side of his neck, trailing lower to where it connected to the muscles of his shoulder. Then he buried his face in that familiar crook, his arms flying to envelope Altair’s body close to his. Altair curled towards him.  

“I love you too, Remus,” he murmured. “Always will.”  

*** 

Altair stepped out of the bathtub with his hair dripping water onto his bare shoulders. Remus had stayed with him, sitting on the closed toilet seat, talking all the while to make sure the other man knew he hadn’t gone anywhere. He owed him his life.

“Feel better?” he asked, standing up and handing Altair a clean towel.  

“A lot,” Altair nodded. He accepted the towel and dried his hair before tying it around his hips. Remus let his eyes rake his body, each rib and uneven line. “I know I look different,” Altair whispered.  

Remus met his eye. “Of course, you do.”  

“Finally slimmer than you, eh? You lanky twat.”  

“Shuddup,” Remus tutted, good-naturedly. “I, uh... You can sleep in the guest bedroom. That’s where I’ve been staying.”  

“Okay.”  

“I can take the couch in the den, unless you want me to be with you.”  

Altair reached for his hand, quietly. He toyed with Remus’s fingers for a while, pulling and twisting them gently. “Only if Sirius won’t mind. I don’t really want to be alone.”  

“He understands,” Remus said firmly.  

Altair nodded. “I’m not very tired, though.”  

“Do you want something to eat? Or some tea, maybe?”  

“Remus, we just ate.”  

Remus opened his mouth, then shut it again. “But you... you spent such a long time in Azkaban.”  

“Can’t eat it all back right now,” Altair smiled wanly.  

“Want to do something, then? Read or, uh...”  

“We can do that,” his friend nodded. “As long as I get to be with you, I’m happy.”  

They settled onto the couch in the drawing room. Remus took his time picking a book to read, but Altair didn’t budge. He simply sat on the sofa and waited, eyes absently on the floor. Remus returned to him and reclaimed his spot, pulling him close to his chest.  

“Could you read out loud?”  

“Of course.”  

And so, he did. Altair’s breaths tickled his skin, his eyes remaining shut, eyelashes dark against his skin. Remus stole a glance every chance he got.  

Eventually, Altair fell asleep. Remus shut the book and set it aside, leaning his head back and allowing his eyes to slip shut. They could talk about it all tomorrow – the plan, what went wrong, and what was going on in Altair’s head right now. They would both get some clarity. 

It was an hour later that Sirius returned for the final time that night. He peered into the drawing room and offered a wan smile, though there was no real joy behind it. His eyes fell to the body curled against Remus’s. “Everything okay?” he whispered, stepping further in.  

“Yeah,” Remus murmured, straightening up a little. Altair began to stir awake. “We had dinner, then he showered, and now we’ve just been sitting here, reading.” He gestured to the book next to him, which had not been opened since he first put it down.  

“Should I prepare another guest room?”  

“He can sleep in my room,” Remus said.  

“Okay. I’m going to grab a bite to eat, be right back.”

He left again, and moments later, Altair awakened. He slowly opened his eyes and blinked against the lights, however dim they were. “Remus?” he whispered, drearily.  

“Here,” Remus said, stroking his hair. “I’m here, Altair. You’re safe.”

Altair let out a shaky breath and straightened up. “Was I out for long?”  

“A bit over an hour. You slept peacefully.”

“Is Sirius back? I thought I heard something.”  

“Yeah, he came back a few minutes ago. He’s in the kitchen.”  

“I can’t thank him enough.”  

“We can talk about it tomorrow.”  

The other man nodded. “Okay.”  

Remus showed him into the guest room and offered to change the sheets, but Altair wouldn’t hear it. He fell on the bed and took in a deep breath, then smiled at Remus. “What? Smells like you.”  

Remus snorted, kneeling on the edge of the bed and bending to kiss him on the forehead. “I’ll go and have a word with Sirius, but I won’t be long. Will you be okay here?”  

“I’ll survive.”

The house still felt haunted at night, no matter how many times he had walked down those creaky stairs. But there was an element to it that he now enjoyed, too. Perhaps it was the utter peacefulness, or the fact he was rarely alone anymore.  

He found Sirius sitting at the table in the kitchen, an empty bowl in front of him. He looked up when Remus entered, then turned back to the notebook on the table. “Still working?” Remus inquired, taking a seat next to him. He tried to get a glimpse of what was written down on the pages, but Sirius flicked the notebook shut and pushed it away.  

“Done for now,” he sighed, lifting his hands to rub at his eyes. “Fuck me, it’s been a horrible day.”  

“Sirius, how did you find Altair? How did you manage to bring him here?”  

“Can we talk about this tomorrow, Remus? I really am exhausted.”  

“Yeah, okay...”  

“Should we go to bed? I’ll fall asleep the second I shut my eyes.”  

“I, uh... I’m going to sleep with Altair in the guest room.”  

Sirius turned to look at him with his brows slightly raised. “Right...”  

“It’s just so he doesn’t have to be alone. You can’t blame him for wanting some company, Sirius. Not after what he’s been through.”  

“I’m not blaming him for anything! Never said you can’t sleep with him.”

“It doesn’t make you jealous?”  

“Are you trying to make jealous?”  

“Obviously not!”  

“It doesn’t.”  

“Good.”  

“Good.”  

Sirius pushed his chair back and got to his feet. Remus followed right after, grasping onto the other man’s arm before he could rush off. “Sirius, wait.”  

“Remus, I couldn’t care less about what you and—”  

Remus kissed him before he could finish his sentence, with so much force he was bound to leave a bruise or two. In a matter of seconds, he had Sirius pressed against the table.  

“Oh,” Sirius breathed out. Remus began trailing kisses down his neck, until Sirius gently pushed him away by the shoulders. “If this is your way of thanking me...”  

“It’s not,” Remus said, straightening to meet his eye. He felt nervous, all of a sudden. But if he wanted to move in any direction at all, he had to be honest. “Sirius… This isn’t easy to say, but… I miss you every time one of us is away. Today, all I could think about was how much danger you’re in now. Fenrir knows who you are, he knows you’re the one who’s been trying to track him down for years.” He swallowed. “And I... I care about you.”

Sirius was quiet for a while, but then a slow smile rose on his lips. “Remus Lupin, the romantic,” he mused.  

“You ruin things so easily,” Remus shook his head, fighting his tugging mouth.  

Sirius leaned closer and planted his hands on Remus’s chest, kissing his lips and then leaning to murmur into his hear, “And you let me.”  

Chapter Text

Waking up next to Altair’s warm body didn’t feel real. That quiet snore, the gentle flutter of his breath – Remus had thought he would never hear them again. He never thought he would get to touch those soft curls again or draw his fingertips over those freckles. But there he was, doing exactly that.  

The snoring ceased, eventually. Remus had a strand of Altair’s hair between two fingers; he had never appreciated the colour of them as much before.  

“You’re not real,” Altair whispered, very quietly, eyes still shut. Remus stopped moving and waited. “You’re not real,” the other man repeated. “You’re not, you’re not...”  

“Altair,” Remus murmured. “Don’t be scared... I’m right here.”  

Altair breathed in and out shakily, too stubborn to open his eyes. “It’s just a dream,” he told himself. “You’re not real.”  

Remus withdrew his hand and stayed still. He wasn’t sure how much he dared to speak, let alone touch Altair in the state he was in. Clearly, he thought he was having a nightmare. There must have been a lot of those in Azkaban.  

Altair kept breathing in a controlled manner. It was like he was trying to wake up but couldn’t. Remus wished he would just open his eyes and see where he was; that he was no longer in constant danger.  

As his companion’s breaths grew more frantic, Remus started to get panicky too. He hated seeing Altair like this, so consumed by fear. He hated it even more because he was at fault.  

When Altair’s entire body started shaking, Remus had no choice but to sit up straight and press his hands to Altair’s shoulders, giving him a gentle jostle. Altair went still, then very slowly cracked his eyes open. Before Remus knew it, he was being pinned against the mattress, one strong hand curling around his throat.  

Altair lifted a fist in the air, clearly with the intention of sinking it into Remus’s face. Remus quickly reached out to grab his wrist, eyes blown wide. “Altair, Altair, stop,” he said hurriedly, voice strained under the other man’s tight grip. “Don’t fucking punch me! It’s me!” 

Altair seemed to hesitate, not loosening his grip. After some seconds, he did lower the hand he had so nearly hit Remus with. “You’re not real,” he said again, gruffly.  

Remus swallowed, starting to feel extremely uncomfortable now. He could still breathe, but it wasn’t easy. “I am,” he choked out. “You got out, Altair. You’re safe.”  

In the end, Altair did let go of his throat, though the confused frown remained on his face. Remus gasped for air and sat up, eager not to get ambushed again.  

“Altair,” he said tentatively. “We’re at Sirius Black’s house. The Auror, you remember him. You got out of Azkaban, and he came to find you yesterday.”  

Altair pressed his eyes shut. “What?” he asked as if the words couldn’t really sink into his brain.  

“You’re safe here. How Sirius found you, I’ve no idea, but he brought you to me.”  

When Altair opened his eyes again, they were wet. He sat up, very slowly, and looked at Remus forlornly. “Remus, I don’t know if this is a dream or not,” he whispered. Remus’s heart shattered at the slight waver in his voice. “I’m scared.”  

“Here,” Remus murmured, slipping out from beneath the sheets and getting to his feet. He rounded the bed until he was standing in front of Altair. He extended out his hand.  

Warily, Altair took it and followed his lead until they were chest to chest, bare feet digging into the carpet beneath them. Even from where he was standing, Remus could hear Altair’s thudding heartbeat. 

Tentatively, Remus brought his hands to Altair’s shoulders, from where he began sliding them into his hair. He kept his touch gentle as he ran his fingers through his curls, then down his neck again, moving next to trail his fingertips across his cheeks and jaw. Then he moved them down to his chest, his shoulders, his arms, all the way to his wrists. Altair shuddered.  

Remus stepped forward until he could loop his arms around Altair, now gaining access to his back. He smoothed his palms up and down, gently, with the intention of waking up every nerve ending in the other man’s body – to help him feel real.  

As Remus went to retreat, Altair suddenly surged forward to wrap his arms around him. Remus stumbled a little but managed to stay up, instinctively returning the gesture. It surprised him a bit, the way his friend buried his face into the crook of Remus’s neck and sobbed. Quiet, restrained sobs that were very much real.  

“Hey,” Remus whispered as he squeezed tighter. “You’re safe now.”  

A sharp knock on the door interrupted them. Altair flinched, practically launching himself away from Remus, sheer terror in his eyes. Remus shook his head and said, “It’s okay. It’s just Sirius.”  

“Remus?” Sirius’s voice carried from the corridor. “Can I speak to you for a second?”  

Remus looked apologetically at Altair. “Is it okay if I leave for a few minutes? You can go back to sleep if you want, I’ll make us breakfast.”  

“Yeah,” Altair rasped.  

Remus nodded and turned to walk to the door. He slipped out and was immediately met with Sirius’s tired eyes. He was already in his work robes.  

“Morning,” Remus said.  

“Morning,” Sirius responded. He took Remus by the arm and began steering him away from the door. When they far away enough, he turned to Remus and sighed. “Look, I have to get back to work and I don’t know when I’ll be back. It might not be until nighttime.”  

Remus frowned. “Back to work? You were there already?”  

“For a few hours, yeah. It’s almost noon.” His eyes flitted to the door Remus had just come out of. “How’s Altair?”  

“He’s... not great.”  

“Will you two be okay here?”  

“We’ll be fine, I’m sure. But you, Sirius...”  

“Remus, you forget that I became an Auror long before I met you. It’s not my first time doing this.”  

“Fenrir’s out for blood,” Remus warned him. “He’s not hiding now like he usually is. He’ll be looking for us. Me, particularly.”  

“I know. But they’re only just collecting strength now. You saw how Altair was when I brought him in yesterday.”  

“I’d still like to help.”  

Sirius’s eyes turned steely. “You’re going to stay here with Altair until I come back. I don’t want either of you to step a foot outside this house.”  

“Sirius...”  

“Altair needs you.”  

Remus clamped his mouth shut. That was true, of course – leaving Altair alone at the house was not an option, especially not in the state he was. Remus couldn’t be sure what had happened during those weeks in Azkaban, but he had heard stories about the place. None of it was good.  

“You need to stay safe,” he said then, because that was the only thing he could ask of Sirius anymore. He didn’t want favours, or help; he wanted Sirius to come home safely.  

“I’ll do my best,” Sirius responded with a glum smile. He took a step back. “I have to go. Lily and James are waiting for me.”  

“What about the plan?” Remus inquired. He’d been so caught up in finally getting Altair back that he’d nearly forgotten about the danger Harry and his parents were now in. “Are they going into hiding?”  

Sirius nodded, warily. “They have to, I’m afraid.”  

“When are you going to do it?”  

“We’re still waiting. But I think it should be soon, just in case. Before anything happens.”  

“Yeah...”  

“Remus, can you promise me you won’t leave the house while I’m gone? It’s not just for your own safety, but also for Altair’s.”  

Remus knew he was just trying to guilt him into staying by saying that, but then, maybe he wasn’t entirely wrong. If he was to leave, then Altair wouldn’t stay either.  

“Fine,” he said.  

Sirius smiled wanly. “Good.”  

“Just... stay safe, alright?”  

“I will.”  

Remus nodded, and Sirius returned the gesture before turning around and rushing down the stairs. Remus sighed and turned to go back into the guestroom. He knocked gently on the door and entered when he heard no response.  

Altair was sitting on the edge of the bed with his head bowed. He looked tired and miserable, no matter the fact they’d slept for nearly twelve hours. Remus supposed one good night couldn’t make up for dozens of bad ones.  

“Hi,” he said tentatively. Altair looked up. “Sirius just left for work. I’ll get started on breakfast.”  

“I’ll come with you,” Altair hurried to say, seemingly terrified about being left alone again. Remus just nodded quietly.  

Together, they padded down the stairs and entered the quiet kitchen. Altair stood there wordlessly as Remus heated the stove and started cooking eggs and toast. He wasn’t sure if Altair was feeling ravenous or too sick to eat at all, but he piled a heap of food onto two plates and carried them to the table. Even then, Altair didn’t move.  

“You have to eat,” Remus said.  

“I’m not hungry.”  

“It’ll make you feel better, I promise.”  

“Remus, I don’t really feel... real.”  

“Do you want to talk about it?”  

“Not really.” Altair looked up at him with wide eyes. “But I think I have to.”  

Remus nodded. “Let’s eat first. We have all day.”  

In the end, he got Altair to down half his plateful. He looked better already, having got some fuel inside him. He even cracked a smile when Remus gathered the dishes and the rest of his food to put away for later.  

This time, when Remus went to sit down, he chose the chair next to Altair’s. And then he waited. Seconds rolled by, then minutes. The grandfather clock on the wall reminded them of this, but they had nowhere to be. It was a nice thought as much as it was a bitter one.  

Eventually, Altair shifted. He kept his eyes on the table as he began, “I don’t remember half of what happened in there. It’s like all of my memories are hazy and not really my own. Not like memories at all.”  

“The Dementors,” Remus murmured.  

“Yeah, I suppose. But I didn’t just feel grim. I felt numb and cold and... hopeless.”  

Remus bit his lip to stop his tears from coming. He’d known it must have been like that – gruelling, traumatising, lonely. But hearing it from Altair’s mouth made it a million times worse.  

“We couldn’t be together. They separated us, put as all in our own cells, of course. But that didn’t stop me from hearing the others’ screams when—when...” Altair drew in a shaky breath. Remus grasped his hand and gave it a tight squeeze. “The full moon was the worst of it. I don’t think I’ve ever felt pain like that. It’s one thing to turn in the forest when you have space and things to keep you distracted. But inside that tiny cell... All you have is your own skin, and when it’s burning and itching... all you want to do is tear it off.”  

Warm tears streamed down Remus’s cheeks. He felt angry at himself. He wasn’t the one who ought to be crying or hurting. He could never forgive himself for everything he’d put Altair through. It was a different kind of anger; one he’d never felt towards anything or anyone else before.  

“You kept me alive, though,” Altair whispered. He squeezed Remus’s hand weakly. “It sounds stupid, but I knew I wasn’t going to die there or stay in that cell for the rest of my life. I knew I’d be seeing you again, I just did.” He offered a wan smile, his eyes wet with unshed tears. “And here we are.”  

“Not thanks to me,” Remus whispered.  

“No,” Altair admitted. “But that doesn’t matter.”  

It mattered to Remus more than he wanted to admit, but perhaps he was meant to suffer the consequences. “And... how about the others?” he asked quietly.  

“They’re angry,” Altair said with a humourless smile. “Obviously.”  

“Obviously,” Remus agreed.  

“Fenrir, Bertha, and Alyna especially. When we got to land, they... they were saying some pretty horrible things.”  

“Hm. I don’t doubt that. They’ve always been good with words.”  

“Yeah.”  

“Do you have any idea where they might have gone?”  

Altair shook his head. “Never got so far. They could be anywhere.”  

“Altair... I promised myself I’d have this conversation with Sirius and not you, but... how did he find you? And how come he didn’t take the chance to go after the others? I just can’t comprehend it.”  

“He didn’t,” Altair said after a beat of silence. “Find me, I mean.”  

Remus frowned. “What do you mean?”  

“After we got out, I... There were Aurors, we knew they were close by. I waited until things got busy—until everyone was distracted—and then I apparated to your friend’s house. Marlene’s.”  

Remus blinked at him, a million questions in his head. “You—you did?”  

Altair nodded. “It was the only thing I could think of that would get me to you, or at least give me the chance to find you.”  

“That’s... that’s so risky, Altair. It’s a wizarding neighbourhood; an Auror could’ve easily found you... And Fenrir, he’s going to be so angry at you. You can never go back.”  

“They don’t know what happened, not really.”  

“Are you sure?”  

“It was quite chaotic. I could’ve been seized again, for all they know.” 

“And you... you did all that to come back to me?”  

Altair’s mouth tugged into a smile. “What else could I have done?”  

Remus stared at him in bewilderment. Altair had taken so many risks only to see him again. He had fought to get back to Remus. And all Remus had been doing for weeks was loitering around Sirius’s family home without any aim.  

He forced himself to swallow the bile that had risen up his throat. Wallowing in his guilt wasn’t going to help Altair right now. He had to stop thinking about himself. “So, you saw Marlene?” he asked, the next burning question on his tongue.  

“Yeah,” Altair said. “Only briefly. I’m... I’m glad she was home. Otherwise, I don’t know what I would’ve done. She alerted Sirius, who showed up not ten minutes later. He wasn’t very happy with me – I think I interrupted his workday. He must’ve been busy, though I don’t know what with.” Altair cracked half a smile.  

“Altair, that’s... I’m so sorry. I should have helped you somehow. You spent weeks in Azkaban, and I just... I was just here, doing nothing.”  

“There’s nothing you could’ve done, Remus. I know you would have if you’d had the chance.”  

“It should’ve been me instead of you,” Remus choked, back to crying again. “You’re so strong, Altair. And you deserved none of this.”  

“Yet I still feel lucky,” Altair said, his eyes shining as he looked directly at Remus. Remus stared right back, unable to comprehend how Altair managed to stay so grateful and unselfish through all of it. Remus wished he possessed half the courage and ability for forgiveness his friend did; it would make him a much better person.  

They both leaned towards each other slowly, like they’d made a silent agreement of sorts. Remus closed his eyes as he felt Altair’s breath against his lips, then his mouth. He kissed Altair with the intention of saying things he couldn’t find the words for. I missed you, I’m sorry, I love you. I’ve never felt this close to someone, which hurts because I can’t be to you everything that I want to be to you.  

And, without hearing the words, he knew exactly what Altair was telling him. I came back to you, I forgive you, I love you. I could never be angry at you for not giving your entire self to me, even if I’ve already done the same with you.  

It was enough and it would never be enough, both at the same time. This was the point they had reached, and it seemed it was the point they wouldn’t get past. No matter what they said to each other, things wouldn’t change. Remus had always been unavailable, in more ways than one. And yet, Altair had not feared giving him all that he was and loving him all the same.  

Remus pulled away. Altair looked at him with sad eyes. “I shouldn’t stay.”  

Remus grappled for his hand, pulling it into his lap and not letting go. “I can’t bear to be without you again,” he whispered.  

“I’m not welcome here, Remus. Not the way you are.”  

Remus didn’t know if he was speaking about the house or the world around them. But that didn’t matter. All he knew was that he couldn’t lose Altair again. “Stay,” he insisted. “Stay for a while. We’ll figure it out.”  

Altair sighed. He brought Remus’s hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles. “Alright. But I refuse to be a burden.”  

“You could never be a burden,” Remus frowned. He released his hand and brought it to the side of Altair’s face, gently. “I want you around, Altair. Out of love, not out of compulsion.”  

Altair’s eyes were bright with tears again. “Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”  

*** 

That evening, Remus went to sleep in Sirius’s bed. Altair insisted he didn’t need the company; in fact, he said he wanted a moment alone. Remus couldn’t deny him that; he couldn’t deny Altair anything ever again, not after taking his freedom.  

He lay there, waiting. Sirius had been gone all day. It was nearing midnight now, meaning that if he didn’t return within the next hour, Remus would have to get worried. He knew Sirius was under no obligation to tell him where he was and whether he was safe or not, but it was killing him, not knowing if he was even alive at this point. Anything could have happened in the twelve hours he’d been gone.  

It was nearly an hour later, after Remus had already almost dozed off, that the door to the bedroom opened. Sirius stepped in, seemingly unaware of Remus’s presence until his eyes fell on the bed. He flinched back. “Fuck,” he hissed. “Merlin, I didn’t realise you’d be here.” 

“I can go,” Remus said, sitting up.  

“No, don’t,” Sirius sighed. He brought his hands to the clasp at his chest and let his cloak fall to the floor. “I was just about to come and check on you and Altair. Is he asleep in the guestroom?” 

“Yeah, he wanted some time alone.”  

“Did you two talk today?”  

Remus nodded, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “He told me he specifically wanted to find you.”  

Sirius smiled wanly. “He wanted to find you,” he corrected. “But yes, he found a way. He’s smart.”  

“He is. I... I feel bad.”  

“I know,” Sirius said. It was simple as that. He no longer tried to convince Remus of the fact that everything that happened wasn’t because of him. He knew that wouldn’t make a difference to Remus. And they both knew it was untrue anyway.  

Sirius removed his robes next, hanging them in his closet. He turned to face Remus as he began unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m going to have a shower. You’re... free to join, if you want.” 

Remus regarded him quietly for a moment. “Okay,” he then said. “Yeah, I’ll come with you.” 

Sirius smiled and turned to head out of the room. Remus got out of bed and padded across to the door, following him but not rushing to get there. He was tired and weighed down by everything he was feeling. He was glad his legs still worked, because his brain certainly didn’t.  

In the bathroom, Sirius had already managed to peel his shirt off. Remus closed the door behind himself and locked it, although there was really no point. The only other person in the house was Altair, and he was fast asleep upstairs.  

Sirius turned around, and Remus simply melted against him. He looped his arms around Sirius and rested them on his back, feeling his bare, warm skin against his own. Sirius, in turn, brought his hands to Remus’s hair and carded his fingers through his curls. Remus released a soft sigh. “I want to talk to you,” he murmured. “About... everything.”  

Sirius was quiet for a moment. Remus felt him nod against his shoulder. “We will,” he whispered.  

“You’ll be busy tomorrow, I’m assuming.”  

“Yeah. We’re going to get Lily and Harry into hiding.”  

Remus pulled away. “Tomorrow?”  

Sirius nodded again. “We planned on waiting, but Fenrir’s unpredictable. We can’t risk him catching us off guard. We can’t trust that he’s going to keep hiding, even if he’s still weak.”  

Remus swallowed and nodded his head. He understood. It wasn’t easy, but it was better to play it safe. “And James?” he asked.  

“He... he’s torn. He wants to be with Lily and Harry, of course, but he also can’t bring himself to go into hiding. He would feel like he’s not doing everything he can to keep the people around him safe. He wants to fight.”  

“It’s a hard spot to be in,” Remus agreed.  

“Yeah... And it’s not like Lily’s excited to disappear either; she’s just as loyal to her work as he is. But Harry needs his parents, or at least one of them. And in a situation like this... Well, James wants to protect her more than he wants to protect himself. Obviously.”  

Remus hummed, stepping away from Sirius altogether. If he could, he would march right out of the door and go find Fenrir. He would follow him to the other side of the continent if he had to, and then he would strangle him to death. The thought of having Fenrir’s throat between his hands, to see the colour drain from his face... scarily, it tempted Remus. He had never been a malicious person, he wanted to believe, but after everything they had been through—Altair, Sirius, Lily, James, all of the other innocent, nameless people who had suffered—he wanted Fenrir dead.  

He looked up to meet Sirius’s concerned eyes. Maybe Remus’s anger was apparent to him. Maybe he knew exactly how far Remus would go to make sure that Fenrir would never hurt anyone again. Maybe he knew that Remus wouldn’t listen to him when he told him not to go after him. But for now, he seemingly decided to pretend he didn’t.  

“Come,” Sirius whispered, taking Remus’s hand and pulling him into the shower. He got rid of his own clothes, then Remus’s, and finally turned the shower on. The water was cold at first, before it slowly and steadily turned warm and comforting.  

Remus stood to the side as Sirius washed his own hair, releasing a quiet sigh as the water rinsed away the tension from his body. Remus watched the muscles in his back, the way his dark curls fell over his shoulders. A surge of gratitude washed over him. Sirius had gone to incredible lengths to help him. Thanks to him, Altair was here now.  

Marlene’s earlier words rang in his head. He needed to show Sirius how grateful he was; he needed to thank him somehow. But it was difficult. Sirius had money, that wasn’t a secret. Anything Remus could afford to buy him, he would easily be able to buy on his own. Remus wasn’t a great chef either, nor did he really know how to plan anything romantic. He didn’t even know if it would be a good idea, doing something romantic in the first place. It might be weird. And yet, Sirius certainly deserved something.  

It was complicated. The entire time they had known each other, it had been complicated. There hadn’t been a normal day; not one day during which they could have pretended everything was okay. Sirius was the optimist out of the two of them, the one who believed that there was light at the end of all this. Remus, on the other hand, hadn’t spent a moment believing they would ever get out of the darkness.  

A thought struck him, suddenly. Maybe that was it. Maybe the way to thank Sirius would be to make sure they got that day. That day when they could pretend nothing was complicated. Not the world around them, nor whatever was going on between them. That day when they could simply exist without all the burdens they usually carried.  

Sirius turned around again, pushing his wet hair out of his face and opening his eyes to look at Remus. He looked so beautiful. Like this, without all the Ministry robes and ornate accessories, he also looked so young. It was sad, because he was young. He just wasn’t allowed to be, not really. The war had taken that from them.  

Remus closed the distance between them silently and cradled Sirius’s face between his hands. Then he kissed him, slowly and deeply, allowing his hands to travel down Sirius’s body and hold him steadily by the hips. If for one day, Remus could make Sirius feel like he they were living a normal life, lacking all things violent and cruel, then he would do everything he could to make that happen. He promised himself he’d try.  

Only, in that moment, he couldn’t have known how long it would take for that day to finally come; a day when everything didn’t go south.