Homecoming
Remus Lupin was tired.
He had spent the last moon trying and trying to convince the werewolves to rejoin the fighting. It was a losing battle, and the Order knew it. But for some reason, Alastor Moody kept telling him he ought to try. Even Dumbledore had insisted on it.
It had started all right, but the wolves were scared. They feared Greyback almost as much as Voldemort. The bloody Ministry of Magic wasn't making things any easier with the new rules around werewolf registration. He had stayed in contact with some of the more sympathetic wolves for the week before the moon, trying to convince them that it would be safe. The Order would protect them if they chose to fight. He knew he was lying through his teeth, but he couldn't bring himself to stop trying. Dumbledore had trusted him with this one task. And if he couldn't even do that, he may as well be worthless. Eventually, some of Greyback's sympathizers had caught on to what he was doing. Remus had almost run for his life after tensions started to rise. He probably wouldn't be able to return to that pack next moon.
And now he was wandering the forest floor, looking for where he had stowed his bloody wand. His back hurt and he had gotten a new scar over his collarbone. His hip clicked with every step, always sensitive when he forgot to put Murlap essence over it. He sent a Patronus to Dumbledore, asking to meet with him tomorrow to discuss the mission. His socks were wet.
Remus Lupin was tired. But he was also angry and in pain and cold, the best combination for success. He found his wand behind an old Sycamore tree that must have seemed particularly magical to him two weeks before. With a sigh, he apparated to London, just outside of Diagon Alley. He didn't want to face Sirius right now. They had agreed that if they were both free on Halloween, they would go on a much-needed date night. Remus had hoped that he hadn't left Sirius hanging, but he was too tired and angry and cold for a confrontation right now.
Remus reminisced about the better parts of his relationship with Sirius. It had all seemed so simple in the beginning. Remus remembered how the two of them had looked the first time they had come to Diagon Alley together. Subconsciously, he recognized the street was busier than usual, bustling with more shoppers than it had in a long time, despite the hour. Remus was too lost in his thoughts to really notice. He remembered how eager they had been to follow their friends into the war. They had been so excited for their first mission. Now, with the war raging on, a rift had grown between them. Remus knew it was Sirius who had pulled back first.
Remus knew that he hadn't been the one to instigate it. Yet, as he walked down the narrow street, inlaid with crooked stones, he couldn't help but wonder. What if it's my fault?
Remus didn't know when he had started keeping secrets from his lover. Secrets like how he secretly enjoyed being in the wolf packs. Secrets like he was scared he had lost Dumbledore's trust. He had wanted to tell Sirius everything. Remus desperately wanted to confess all of his insecurities over the past year. He knew he would do it in a heartbeat if Sirius asked. But that small What If? plagued him. It haunted his nightmares and came to him in his worst moments. What if the spy in the Order was...no. He couldn't even entertain the thought right now. Better to avoid it. Better to not risk a confrontation. It was already late anyway. Sirius was probably already asleep by now.
As Remus pushed open the door to the Leakey Cauldron, the first thing he noticed was how much more alive it seemed. Witches and Wizards were crowding every bar stool and every table. More than that, everyone seemed to be happy. People were laughing. Nobody was talking in hushed whispers. Nobody was clustered in groups, eyes darting in suspicion.
On the contrary, live music was playing from a band in the corner. People were dancing to the raucous pull of the strings. Onlookers were tapping their feet, or clapping along. One very drunk man was even standing on top of his table, singing along to the chorus. Remus pinched himself, sure he was dreaming.
He did not know what to make of it. He wandered, or more accurately, was buffeted towards the bar around the crowd of people. Once there, he recognized Tom, the barman.
Not knowing what else to say, Remus blurted out "Has everybody lost their minds?"
Tom gave Remus a funny look, which almost immediately cracked into a grin. "Been livin' under a rock, 'ave you?"
Remus did not know what to say, but apparently, an answer was not necessary.
"You-Know-Who's dead!" Tom exclaimed, "'was in the Prophet yesterday"
Dead?
Dead?
Remus didn't know how to react to this. Voldemort? Dead? Whatever he had expected, this wasn't it.
Tom must have sensed the disbelief in his face, so he reached behind him and pulled out a beer-stained copy of yesterday's Daily Prophet.
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HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED CONFIRMED MISSING LAST NIGHT
Last Halloween night, infamous dark wizard, He-who-must-not-be-named was confirmed missing by the Ministry of Magic. Death Eaters all over England have been captured and are currently being interrogated for information on the reason behind his disappearance. His last known sighting was in-
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Remus' eyes widened. He started unblinking over the page. He must have hallucinated it. Because the next words on the page, the next words...the next...
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His last known sighting was in Godric's Hollow after he murdered James and Lily Potter...
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The sounds of the party muted, replaced by only a cold ringing in his ears. Remus choked. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe.
The world caved in.