Christmas 1993
They'd looked through the photos long into the evening. Eventually Remus had sent Harry to get some rest, with several pictures he'd wanted for his album. He'd intended to go to bed too, but inevitably found himself, an hour later, still pouring over the photographs. There were a lot from school, and a lot from their summer breaks - Lily had been a prolific photographer - mostly them messing about in James' garden, or lying around on Welsh beaches. There were fewer from during the war, they'd been together much less frequently - apart from the wedding of course, of which there were many. There was also a small series of Polaroids from the flat - Harry had picked a couple of these up, but after a quick glance at Remus had pushed them to one side and not looked again. Their flat. Sirius had taken them over a weekend: Lily had left her camera at theirs and he'd been fascinated by the Muggle technology. There were five - the number that had been left on the film, because of course he'd used them all. They were all slightly blurry, overexposed and blue from the bright spring light that had shone through their windows. They were all also completely innocuous - Remus leaning against a kitchen counter, a piece of toast in one hand and a book in the other; Remus leaning out the bedroom window in a t-shirt with a hole at the collar, smoking a cigarette; Sirius trying to take one of himself in the bathroom mirror, almost completely obscured by the reflection of the flash; Remus on the sofa, reading again and ignoring the camera, but smiling behind the book; and lastly, the both of them, half out of frame, Sirius' face pushed against his, grinning as Remus rolled his eyes.
Eventually Remus piled the other photos back into the old tin, but these ones he collected and took with him back into his room, arranging them propped up against the stack of books on his bedside table. He lay down beside them and looked at them until he fell asleep.
'Isn't it perfect?' Sirius grinned as he pulled Remus across the room by the hand. 'Look at this space! Look at these views!'
'The view is of the side of a kebab shop...'
'And this would be the bedroom...' Sirius leaned on the doorframe, smiling seductively over his shoulder, before moving off again and opening another door, 'and the bathroom has a bath!'
'Wow, unexpected.' Remus replied, leaning back against the wall and smiling back at him.
'And look! Bookshelves already built in! And a fireplace. Everything we need right here!' He was in the kitchen now, opening and closing the empty cupboards.
'Yeah,' said Remus softly, watching him. 'Everything we need, right here,'
*
Over the next week, between the start of the holidays and Christmas Day itself, despite the gradual approach of the full moon, Remus began to relax a little again. The dreams had intensified, but were consistently good ones, and although this made him feel extremely uncomfortable when he tried to work out his current feelings towards Sirius, being in them was lovely. A little bit of Christmas denial, he thought, could be his gift to himself.
Much less enjoyable, although necessary of course, was his nightly consumption of the wolfsbane potion. Somehow, Remus had managed to have minimal contact with Severus, and suspected they were avoiding each other, but this month, his presence was apparently required in Snape's dungeon.
He went straight down after dinner, wanting to get it over with. He remembered these corridors, filled with ghostly green light from the lake and huge shadows from the lanterns that lined the walls. He hadn't been one for potions, Slughorn despairing over his poorly cut ingredients and he'd relied heavily on Lily to get through the OWLS. The door to Snape's classroom stood ajar and Remus could see Severus inside, bent low over the cauldron, stirring rhythmically. Not wanting to be caught spying, he drew back and knocked.
'Come in!' Severus called, sharply.
Remus entered, waiting for instruction, but when nothing came said, 'Good evening, Severus. You wanted to see me?'
'Needed,' Snape snapped, 'I needed to see you. You've put on so much weight since September. I need to weigh you so that I can ensure the dosages are correct.'
Remus almost laughed, had Severus got him down here just to call him fat? He had spoken without taking his eyes off the cauldron, and Remus hovered by the door, unsure what to do next.
'Over here,' Severus gestured, 'stand on these'.
Remus walked over to where he was indicating and stood on what seemed to be a set of Muggle bathroom scales. Severus stalked quickly over to look at the dial and then returned to his potion.
'That will be all,' he said.
'Uh, ok - great,' said Remus, stepping off the scales back towards the door. 'Well, thanks - and thanks for the potion.'
'Thank Albus,' Severus muttered into his cauldron, but then looked up at Remus for the first time, his eyes narrowed, his face filled with dislike. Remus left the room.
*
Harry met him again that week for a second Patronus lesson. By the end of it he was consistently able to produce a silvery shadow which would shield him from the Boggart-Dementor. Remus was pleased, but Harry was frustrated with what he saw as minimal progress.
‘You’re expecting too much of yourself,’ Remus told him, ‘For a thirteen-year-old wizard, even an indistinct Patronus is a huge achievement. You aren’t passing out any more, are you?’
‘I thought a Patronus would – charge the Dementors down or something,’ said Harry dispiritedly. ‘Make them disappear –’
‘The true Patronus does do that,’ said Remus. ‘But you’ve achieved a great deal in a very short space of time. If the Dementors put in an appearance at your next Quidditch match, you will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back to the ground.’
‘You said it’s harder if there are loads of them,’ said Harry.
‘I have complete confidence in you,’ said Remus, and he meant it. Poppy hadn't been overgenerous when she was impressed by what Remus had relayed of their first lesson. ‘Here – you’ve earned a drink. Something from the Three Broomsticks, I expect you won’t have tried it before –’
'Butterbeer!’ said Harry, as Remus produced two bottles. ‘Yeah, I like that stuff!’
Remus looked at him, eyebrow raised. All that fuss he'd made about Hogsmeade initially had seemed to die down after...
'Oh – Ron and Hermione brought me some back from Hogsmeade,’ Harry said quickly, blushing slightly.
‘I see,’ said Remus, deciding not to ask further, 'Well, Merry Christmas Harry.'
'Can we look at the photos again?' Harry asked, after a moment.
'Are you not too tired?' Remus said, 'It's been a long afternoon?'
'No, no I'm fine. I wanted to see if there were more Christmas ones.'
Remus considered him for a moment, and wordlessly got up to get his tin, and the huge slab of chocolate he'd picked up when he'd been out for the Butterbeer.
'Here we go then,' he pulled the lid off and unwrapped the chocolate. 'Lets see what we can find.'
*
There were quite a lot of Christmases, it turned out. Several others from the night of the group photo they'd found last time: Marlene, standing on a sofa with tinsel around her neck, using a bottle as a microphone while Lily and Mary fell about laughing in the foreground; James, holding a piece of mistletoe over Pete's head and puckering at him while he tried to get away. They also uncovered some from the Potters': a snowball fight in the back garden; a teenage James on the sofa, surrounded by wrapping paper, with a party hat and an enormous piece of Christmas cake.
'I really do look like him, don't I,' said Harry, staring down at the photo.
'You really do.' Remus confirmed. 'When I first got here I found it quite unsettling.'
'Do you think I am like him? As a person I mean?'
Remus considered for a moment. 'In some ways,' he said, thoughtfully. 'James loved Quidditch, he was a chaser - did you know that? He was very determined, stubborn, really, I suppose. He was a very loyal friend, and if he could help you, then he would. He helped me a lot.' Remus paused, 'But you're very different really. You're more like yourself.'
Harry looked up at him then and Remus wasn't sure if he'd said the wrong thing, but he looked away again, back at the photos.
'Look!' he said suddenly, pulling one out, 'Quidditch!'
The photo was of the Potters' garden, in the snow. James was on a broomstick, zooming around the Quidditch hoops his dad had put up at the end of the garden. He had his school jumper on, but also what looked like pyjama trousers and slippers.
'Ah yes,' said Remus, 'His Christmas Day tradition. Although maybe that is also a new broom. I can't remember.'
'Who's that?' said Harry, pointing to the edge of the photo, behind the hoops, where someone was flying just in and out of frame, his black hair blowing around his face.
Remus watched him for a second, flickering back and forth. He looked up at Harry, who was watching him expectantly. 'That's Sirius.'
Harry looked back at the photo, his brow furrowed. 'What's he doing there on Christmas Day?'
'Well, he lived there for a while. But also I think he spent quite a few Christmases. His family were - well - they weren't very nice to him, and your grandparents sort of, looked after him when things were particularly bad at home.'
Harry looked up at Remus quite suddenly.
'He lived with my Dad? At his house?'
Remus could feel he was sliding into dangerous territory but he didn't know how to stop. Does he know? He tried to stay casual. 'Yeah, yes, on and off and then from sixth year until w- until he got his own place.'
'What was wrong with his own family?' Harry was staring at him, intently.
'Well, they were just - they - their,' he cast around for a way to explain the Black family. 'They were big supporters of Voldemort,' he said eventually, desperate, 'and Sirius -'
'Was too.' said Harry, bluntly.
Remus looked at him and the alarm must have shown on his face.
'Isn't that what happened?' Harry said, his voice tight, 'He was angry that Voldemort was gone and that's why he killed all those people?'
'Well,' Remus began. Was this the right thing to tell him? 'Well..' he tried again, but Harry cut him off.
'So he moved in with my dad because his family supported Voldemort but then so did he, so he told Voldemort where my dad, who was his best friend, whose parents had taken him in, was hiding, so that Voldemort could kill him and my mum and try to kill me and then he went and murdered a load of muggles?'
Remus looked at him, stunned. He could feel his mouth start to try to say something but his brain couldn't send any words to it. Harry was staring at the photograph again, breathing hard.
'Where did you hear all of that, Harry?' he said slowly.
'Is that what happened or not?' Harry said furiously, looking back at Remus.
'The completely honest answer, Harry, is that I don't know what happened. What you have just said is, roughly, what I have been told, yes, but I was away at the time - Dumbledore had me doing... work, for the war effort- and I - wasn't there.' he tailed off.
'So what? You don't think he did it?'
Remus, was again, at a loss. In the end he said, 'It is what I've been told happened, but I don't understand how it happened.' He sounded like a child, he thought. Like a stupid child refusing to believe his friends didn't want to play with him anymore.
'Look, Harry,' he said, suddenly, not really knowing what he was going to say. 'Whatever it was that happened, however awful it was, the fact is that in this present moment, Sirius is supposed to be in prison and isn't and no one knows how he got out or what he is planning. So, it is very important that you follow the rules that have been put in place to protect you. You mustn't do anything rash...'
'Like what?' Harry said, a challenge in his tone.
'I don't know,' said Remus. 'Just. Be careful Harry. Be safe.'
*
'James asked me to do it, of course I'm going to do it. You'd do it if he'd asked you.'
'Of course I would,' said Remus, 'But it's still worth thinking carefully about. Don't you think it'll make you a target? As soon as they realise they've disappeared, who do you think they'll be after?'
'It doesn't matter,' Sirius said defiantly. 'I'd die before I gave them up.'
'I know,' said Remus quietly. 'That's what I'm worried about.'
Sirius' expression changed and he moved to sit across the table from him.
'Oh love,' he said, taking Remus' hands. 'It will be alright, we will be alright. I promise.' he reached over and cupped Remus' chin, raising it so their eyes met. 'I've got to do this for them. I know I can. Don't worry about me, I'm not going anywhere.'
Remus looked at him, so earnest, so sure. 'Ok.' he said. 'Ok.'
'Besides,' Sirius added, with a hint of a grin, 'Bella's been trying to kill me at least once a week since I was six, so I'm also very experienced with that side of things.'
'Oh don't', said Remus, putting his head in his hands. 'Don't joke Sirius, I can't bear it.'
'Ok, ok, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.' Sirius got up again and moved round the table and put his arms around him. 'Its ok, it's ok. It will be ok.'
*
Remus awoke on Christmas morning to a fresh layer of snow and an owl tapping at his window with his usual copy of the Prophet. Groggily, he paid it and got back into bed with the paper. He undid the twine that held it closed and as he unrolled it something dropped out onto the covers. It was a little curved stone, almost the shape of a crescent moon. He picked it up, wondering sleepily how it had ended up in his paper, turned it over and froze. There was something on the other side, scratched into the stone, he could feel it under his finger. He held it up to the light. There, scraped carefully into the stone was what looked like an asterisk. A star.
He looked at it for another moment, and then put it down on his bedside table and picked up the paper, and then put the paper back down and picked up that pebble. Three possibilities, he tried to think calmly: one, all copies of The Prophet are being sent out with strange pebbles this morning; two, this is a random event and this pebble just happened to end up in my paper; three, Sirius has found a moon shaped pebble, scratched this star into it, intercepted an official owl and sent it to me on purpose. He got up and opened the window, leaning out over the snowy rooftop. He could just about make out the edge of the forest, but everything was silent. Everything was still. 'What are you doing?' he said out loud, 'what are you trying to tell me?'
At lunchtime, with the stone in his pocket, he went down to the Great Hall. So few had stayed this Christmas, Professor Dumbledore had organised a single table in the centre of the Hall and he sat down in the only empty seat, beside Minerva.
'Fantastic,' Dumbledore said when Remus had settled himself. 'Now that we are all here - fourteen of us, Sybill, don't worry -' he smiled down the table at Professor Trelawney who had apparently been counting the guests, '-it is time for crackers!'
He offered the end of one to Severus, who took it with a reluctant expression on his face that only soured further when it burst to reveal a large pointed hat adorned with a stuffed vulture. There was a snort from somewhere down the table and Remus turned to see Harry and Ron grinning at each other. Minerva jabbed him with her own cracker.
'Come on Remus, we all need a hat,' she said and he pulled it, producing an elegant purple one with lights dotted across it.
'Definitely for you,' he said, picking up his own. She grasped the opposite end and tugged, and out flew a midnight blue hat, covered in constellations, glittering. Remus felt for the stone in his pocket and rubbed his thumb over the star.
'Hats on!' Dumbledore called brightly - he'd taken the vulture one for himself, 'and tuck in!'
The food was, as always, delicious. With the moon in three days, Remus had been starting to feel rather nauseous but even he managed a second serving of potatoes. He chatted a little to Minerva, and to Derek, a very nervous first year who he knew from lessons had an interest in fishing.
'Of course, Plimpy are protected,' Derek was saying, 'but my dad has a licence because getting potion ingredients is part of his job and so usually I'm in charge of catching them while Dad manages the Shrake nets.'
'Ah yes, those are tricky ones aren't they?' said Remus, 'What is it Shrake spines are for again?'
'Curing boils,' Severus interrupted suddenly and both Remus and Derek looked up in surprise. Severus met Remus' eye for a moment and turned back to his dinner.
Remus raised his eyebrows at Derek and smiled and asked him another question, aware now that he was being watched.
By pudding, everyone was very full. Hermione had left her place to ask Filius a question and so Remus slipped into her seat to wish Harry, (who was wearing a bright red jumper with a lion on it) and Ron a Merry Christmas.
'You too,' said Harry, 'Listen, Professor, did you by any chance -'
Ron cut him off. 'Did you send Harry a Firebolt, sir?'
Remus was taken aback. 'A what? A broomstick? No, no sorry Harry but I expect that would've been pretty inappropriate if I had.'
'I told you,' Harry hissed at Ron.
'Well who did then?' Ron hissed back.
'Harry,' Remus interrupted him, 'Did you get sent a very expensive broomstick anonymously?'
'Yes,' said Harry sheepishly, 'but I'm sure someone just heard about my Nimbus...'
Remus looked at Harry, his little hopeful face. He thought about the stone in his pocket. Getting that into his paper seemed a feat for a man on the run, surely ordering a fancy broomstick unrecognised was beyond the realms of possibility...
'I do think it might be a good idea if we have a little look at it Harry - I know that isn't what you want to hear - but just, given the current situation, let's just give it a check over before you get in the air on it.'
Harry looked down at his hands. Ron looked outraged.
'But- but- he's only just got it! It's brand new! What could be wrong with it?'
Remus was still looking at Harry, who was still looking at his hands. Hermione had arrived behind them, Minerva beside her.
'He's worried,' said Harry, slowly, 'that it's come from Sirius Black.'