Chapter Text
November 1st, 1981
Peter was the traitor. James and Lily were dead. Remus’ mind was filled with thousands of questions and emotions, but above all, an overwhelming need to protect Sirius, his love, the one person he had left.
Lily’s voice echoed in Remus’s ears, a ghost from the night before. “Godric’s hollow. Now. They’ve come for him”. That patronus message was the last he would ever hear from his friend. Poor, poor Lily. And James. And Harry. Where would Harry go now?
“Fuck,” Remus muttered under his breath. He felt Sirius stir. He didn’t know what to think about Sirius. Maybe he wanted to break up. Maybe the stress of the war was finally getting too much. But none of that mattered now.
“Moony?” Sirius’ voice was small now, almost like a young child, and trembling. It was obvious he was trying not to cry. “Why did he betray them? What did they do to deserve it?” He was sobbing now, salty tears running down his cheek bones and making a wet patch on the pillow. Remus didn’t have an answer for him, so he just stroked Sirius’ hair gently and kissed his forehead. With his free hand, he wiped the tears from his own eyes. ‘No’, he thought, ‘I need to be strong. Sirius needs me to be strong.’
Remus glanced out the window. The sun was setting, inching below the London skyline. What time was it? He strained his eyes to read the small clock on the wall- seven thirty.
“Pads”, he whispered, “I’m gonna go make us some food. Beans on toast?”
“‘s ok. Not hungry anyway”
“Think you can try to eat something?”
“No”
Sirius crawled back under the covers, this time facing away from Remus.
November 2nd 1981
Remus woke up to the screech of an owl, which was swooping towards the window. He jumped out of bed and opened it, just as the owl swooped in and landed on the windowsill. Attached to its leg was a short note, written in swirly handwriting:
The funeral of James and Lily Potter will be held on Wednesday the 11th of November at 2pm.
A location was attached below, but Remus didn’t bother to read it.
“No,” he stepped back, leaning against the wall. It couldn’t be, “No, no, no”, he repeated, voice shaky. Sirius rolled over, just waking up “Wassit” he mumbled.
“The funeral. It’s-“ tears threatened to overwhelm Remus now. He took a deep breath in, and prepared himself, “It’s on the full moon.” Sirius sat bolt upright now, his chin resting on Remus’ shoulder.
“What you gonna do?”
“I don’t know.” This time Sirius pulled Remus into his arms, and whispered in his ear “Can I come? Only if you want-“ Remus cut Sirius off with a kiss. “I love you”
“Love you too, Moony”
November 10th, 1981
To say Remus was nervous about the funeral was an understatement. He wasn’t just anxious and grieving, he was utterly petrified. And, added onto getting through his best friends’ funeral without a full on mental breakdown on the day of a full moon, he also needed to get Sirius through it. Sirius, the boy whose eyes once shone with love and mischief, the boy who had fought so hard for Remus’ happiness, the boy who had been curled up in bed for the past three days in a never ending cycle of sleeping and crying.
Remus was on edge. The full moon was making him even more impatient than usual, the thought of the agonizing transformation looming over him. He sat, sipping his cup of tea and desperately trying not to think about his grief. He knew it was unhealthy, but he’d learned the hard way that emotions were an inconvenience.
He looked up from his tea. “Stop it,” he said to himself, before realizing that there was an owl flying at an alarming speed towards the closed window. He ran over and flung it open, just in time for the owl to swoop down and perch on the windowsill. Attached to its leg were two scrolls of parchment, addressed to Remus Lupin and Sirius Black in slanted, loopy writing.
Dear Mr Lupin,
Regarding the funeral of your
friends, James and Lily Potter, I would like to invite you to speak about their lives at the event. You do not need to reply to this owl.
Yours sincerely, Albus Dumbledore.
Great. He had one day to compile the lives of his best friends into a few paragraphs. And to get Sirius to do the same. Where would he even start? There were too many memories and feelings to possibly put two whole lives into a couple of paragraphs. Unspoken moments, impossible to put into words that Remus knew no-one else could ever understand. Remus tapped his foot anxiously before deciding to bite the bullet and tell Sirius what he needed to do.
The bedroom door creaked open, and Remus found Sirius lying still, in the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Did Sirius even know he was there at all? He cautiously sat down on the bed, and hoped for the best.
“Pads,” Remus started, “Dumbledore just sent an owl, and, well, he wants you to speak at the funeral-“
“No. I don’t deserve to. It’s my-“
Sirius dissolved into a fit of violent sobs while Remus held him. It was a stupid idea- why had he even thought Sirius would want to do a speech? He could barely get out of bed these days, and he was still terrified what people would think of him because of his family.
After a while, Sirius managed a few words, “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I deserved to die that night- not them.”
Remus traced circles on Sirius’ shoulder, “Shhh. It was not your fault. We were all betrayed by him, and that’s no-one’s fault but his.”
Sirius buried his head further into Remus, and they stayed there, both lost in their own thoughts.