Questions
McGonagall was wrong about Gryffindors. She was wrong because it wasn't just one hard decision Remus had to make, it was infinitely many hard decisions. Remus didn't get to settle down with his silly little 'closure' and properly grieve. He couldn't. The Trial had given him no information as to whether Sirius was actually guilty at all. His 'confession' was nothing more than an admission of guilt. And none of his 'mad ravings' had seemed particularly misplaced to Remus.
And why was he talking about Peter like he wasn't dead?
Remus knew that it was a hopeless quest. Dumbledore had said under no uncertain terms that Sirius had been the traitor. Was Remus' mind just fixating on nothing? Sirius had seemed so sad. He looked broken, angry, and manic, but not happy, certainly not gleeful. He had looked like he wanted to die when Crouch had mentioned James. The only other time Remus had ever seen that expression had been after the Prank in the fifth year. Had he accidentally hurt James in the same way?
Remus hated his brain for thinking it. He regretted it as soon as realized, but Remus knew that he had to go and see Sirius in person. Remus needed to hear the exact words from his mouth.
He stewed his thoughts for a whole month, waiting until the moon was over just to be sure. It was the third moon after Halloween night, and the Wolf had seemed to sense that his pack was irreparably damaged. Remus earned himself two deep, fresh cuts on his left bicep and a bite mark over his right hand. He had taken another week to heal, just to be sure that he wasn't making a terrible error in his judgement. Finally, on a cold February morning, Remus made his decision. He owled Mad-Eye, practically begging for a chance to speak with him.
And that was how he found himself standing outside of the bloody Ministry of Magic.
Remus walked into the nondescript London red telephone box, dialled 62442, and picked up the receiver. The Ministry of Magic was always just a little bit too cold, the tap tap tap of Remus' worn oxfords always just a little bit too loud. It had gotten quieter and quieter as the War had started to become bloodier. Presently, however, it was bustling with new job postings and overeager workers. The entire Wizarding world had seemed to come alive again after the news of Voldemort's defeat. Everybody was partying, and laughing, and enjoying things they hadn't done in years. Everybody, except for Remus.
Remus slowly waded through the crowd. Nobody questioned him, but the witch at the welcome desk did ask to see his wand. The lift was not pleasant. At least he only needed to make it to level two. He shivered when he passed the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He almost laughed while passing the small and tattered Department for Registration of Animagi, which looked like it hadn't seen the light of day in at least thirty years.
Remus paused before opening the door labelled Auror Office, briefly wondering if he should knock. Eventually, he decided it was better just to open the door. The front of the actual office was relatively peaceful. Papers were littered on bulletin boards and red strings tracking known and suspected Death Eaters. Memos whizzed past into over a dozen letter boxes throughout the office. There were a few plush armchairs around a coffee table for visitors waiting to be seen. Remus was extremely glad he had waited so long after the moon. Even though the office looked mundane, the hum of powerful magic was nearly overwhelming him, causing him to stumble on the way to the front desk. He was certain that there were at least a dozen wards around the space, and behind them, a few dozen extremely powerful wizards. At the front desk, sat a small wizard who looked like he had not gotten enough sleep for the past year.
"Name?" the tired wizard articulated as Remus approached.
"Remus Lupin." Remus said, hoping his voice wasn't shaking, "Appointment with Alastor Moody."
"Hmm...yes, we have you down for 8:30," He didn't even bother to look up at Remus, "If you'll please have a seat, we'll get you sorted in about ten minu-"
Suddenly, Mad-Eye opened the door behind the tired wizard. "Remus." He barked out, "With me."
The tired wizard rolled his eyes, "Or you could just go in now." Remus' ears caught him mumbling, 'I don't even know why I bother.'
Mad-Eye led him past several cubicles, all packed to bursting with paperwork on dark wizards. They passed several rooms that almost made Remus pass out with the stench of their magic, finally settling on a raised office where Moody could watch the happenings of his department. The Auror cast a silencing charm and sat down across from Remus, "What can I do for you, Mr. Lupin? I would have thought you were eager to be rid of us after the War ended."
Remus gulped. Better get it off his chest now. He knew neither of them was in the mood for small talk involving his werewolf escapades. "I need to see Sirius Black."
Mad-Eye raised an eyebrow, "And why would you need to do that, Mr. Lupin? I thought Dumbledore made sure you saw Black's trial?"
The bright blue eyeball on Moody's head seemed to bore into him. Remus knew better than to lie, but he tried to be intentionally vague, "It's just that I still have a few questions I need to ask him."
Moody stared at him. If Remus wasn't so terrified of the Auror, he probably would have laughed at the dumbfounded expression on the other man's face. "You of all people must know about the rumours that come from consorting with these types-"
Remus sat down across from him, cutting in, "I am not consorting with Black, Mad-Eye, I just need to know. I-I can't live with myself otherwise."
Something akin to understanding crossed Moody's face, "Mr. Lupin, if it's one thing I've learned from my years as an Auror, it's that nothing good can come from begging or pleading with these sorts for answers. Sirius Black is the worst of the worst. He will not give you what you want."
"Please Mad-Eye, I know how it looks, but this is really important. I promise I'll never ask again," Remus felt like he was grovelling at Moody's feet, "Just this once, humour me, please."
Moody sighed, after a very long moment, he looked Remus squarely in the eye, "Alright."
"But-" Moody interjected, before Remus could respond, "I know you Remus, I know how these types get under your skin. I'm not doing this to help you."
"Thank you Mad-Eye. I owe you one."
Moody waved a hand, dismissing the show of gratitude, "Come back in one month, same time, same place. You might have to write a formal letter of intent to the new Minister along the way. You will have a chaperone for the whole visit. I'll see how many strings I can pull."
Remus nodded solemnly. He felt like a heavy weight had just lodged itself down his throat. "Thank you, Alastor, really. If you ever need a favour, just ask."
He all but ran out of the Auror's office.