History's Footnote

Remus woke suddenly, a yell echoing through his subconscious, jarring against the quiet of his room. Instinct told him the sound hadn’t originated in his dream. Harry.

He shook the boy awake, hurriedly. 

“Mmph… whazzgoinon?”

“Harry… Harry? Are you alright? You were yelling in your sleep.”

“What?” Harry muttered sleepily, then shot up, clutching at his scar. “OW.”

He turned to Remus, a horrified look in his eye. “I think… I think I just saw Voldemort. And Peter - Peter was there too, and there was this big snake - ”

Remus wanted to tell him it was just a dream, but his eyes flitted between Harry’s scar and his eyes, and he found that he wasn’t so sure.

“What else can you remember about the dream, Harry?”

“I - I mean, they - they were in a darkened room, an old house, I think…” Harry’s eyes looked slightly glazed, as if he was speaking the scene into existence through his descriptions. “The snake, it was lying on the rug, and Wormtail was… he was scared, and he was talking to someone?”

Remus cringed to hear his old friend’s nickname. 

“Professor, there was this old man there - a muggle, I think.” Harry looked at him intently, speaking fast. “Please, I think he’s in danger - we have to do something! They cast a spell on him - there was this green light…”

“Green?” Remus replied. “Are you sure?”

“Yes - does that mean something?”

Remus’s eyes flicked once more to Harry’s scar. He usually tried not to look at it, knowing firsthand how troubling it could be to always have people’s eyes drift to the side, seeing your scars before they saw you. In this case, however, he couldn’t help it. “Harry… that’s the killing spell. I’m so sorry. There’s nothing we can do.”

“Oh.” Harry looked down, and rubbed his scar. “My scar, it hurts sometimes, like when Voldemort was near me. But also when he’s feeling… strong emotions, I think. That’s how I know this isn’t just a dream. Is that normal?”

“Hm. I’ve got something that might help, can I leave you here for one second? Are you okay?”

“Yeah - I’m going to write to Sirius, I think.”

“Okay.”

Remus left for the kitchen, rooting around until he found the potion he used on old scars. He handed it to Harry, who was looking pale but better than before, and instructed him to cover his scar in a thin layer.

“Nah - not really doing much.” Harry sighed. “Thanks, though.”

Remus should have expected that. The potion had never worked on his bite, either. He wanted to let Harry get back to sleep, but there was a question he needed to ask him first.

“Harry…”

“Yes, professor?”

“Can I ask - what… what did Voldemort look like?”

Harry frowned, staring hard at the parchment he was writing to Sirius on.

“I… I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

Remus nodded. “Are you going back to bed?”

“Don’t think I can, after this.” Harry flattened his hair nervously. “Besides, I’ve got to pack for Ron’s! It’s the World Cup next week!” 

The rate at which Harry could go from a serious topic to Quidditch astounded Remus. He looked at Harry’s determined smile, and wondered if perhaps it was more of a forced coping mechanism than natural jump. Regardless, if Harry wanted to change subjects, Remus would let him.

Harry glanced round at all his scattered belongings and unwashed clothes. It was so normal and mundane, and it helped ground them both back into the present moment. Since he’d moved to Remus’s, all he had to do was bring the clothes to the kitchen for them to literally magically sorted. Unfortunately, as a teenager, he’d found a way to avoid even the simplest of tasks asked of him. Remus arched an eyebrow at him. Perhaps he was leaning too heavily into the memory of another very messy spectacled boy, one he himself was once a very messy roommate of, but he wouldn’t feel right lecturing Harry on keeping his room clean.

“I’ll make us both a tea.”

He stood, and left the room.

By the time Sirius had received Harry’s letter, Harry had already left. Sirius’s response to Remus, obviously, was anything but calm.

Need to meet - urgent. Edge of the forest where James told us he was engaged to Lily. Tomorrow, same time as before.

Remus arrived early, but Sirius was already there too. On seeing him, the huge dog transformed, and Remus was shocked to see his hair cut short. He stared, open mouthed.

Sirius ran his hand through it, nervously. “It was just… easier to manage this way. Do you like it?”

“I - of course!” How could Remus say anything else when he was struggling to survive out there? He could see his own, fresh scars reflected back at him in Sirius’s worried eyes. It had been hard, trying to get by without any Wolfsbane again, and Eloise’s progress on the home-brew had stagnated. He searched for something to say, not really wanting to discuss it, but Sirius interjected.

“We need to talk about Harry.”

Maybe the days when they talked about everything were over. Harry was their priority now.

“Did he tell you about his scar?”

“Yes. And his dream..?”

“I don’t like it. I want you to go back to Hogwarts, he needs someone to protect him-”

“Padfoot-”

“No!” Sirius cut him off, panicked. “I know what Severus did, but you’ve got Dumbledore, you’ve got Professor McGonagall-”

“Sirius.” Remus tried again.

“There has to be a way!”

“Padfoot.” Remus held his shoulders. “Dumbledore’s hired Mad-Eye.”

“Oh.” Sirius relaxed immediately. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you in a letter. Mad-Eye’s insisting that no one know about it yet, you remember what he was like - what he’s still like, honestly. Apparently a cat or something came near his house the other day, and he set his bloody bins on the poor thing.”

“Constant Vigilance” Sirius chuckled, momentarily breaking the tension. He drew in a shaky breath, and ran his hand through his hair, again. “How is Harry? Is he still at the flat?”

“He’s just gone to the Burrow, they’re all going to the world cup tomorrow.”

Sirius grinned, and it transformed his whole face. “Brilliant! Remember when me and James went? England were robbed that year… hey! Why didn’t you come again?”

Remus surveyed him coolly. “I had no money, no interest, and no desire to share a tiny tent with you and James all weekend.”

Sirius was already jumping to the next subject, his eyes lit up. “Have you seen Harry play? He’s amazing!”

“When could you possibly have seen-?”

“I snuck onto the school grounds a few times last year, just to watch him.” 

Remus smiled. Risking the Dementors for the sake of witnessing his best friend’s son play Quidditch. It should infuriate him, but it was just so gloriously Sirius Black that  it filled him with hope instead. The man he loved was still alive after all. 

Remus thought back to the matches last year. He had been at them too. In another world, they’d have watched him together, side by side.

“I’ve seen him nearly die on his broom a fair few times too.” Remus commented., and then laughed as a thought struck him. “Oh, and Padfoot? That Firebolt was really such a stupid idea.”

Sirius started laughing too, and for a moment he felt like they were 15 again, but Remus was alarmed to hear it turn sharply into sobs. 

“FUCK!” Sirius yelled, upwards into the forest with his limbs stretched out, and then tightened into a low crouch, curling inwards like a ball. “Fuck.”

“I just… I lost so much time. It ran through my fingers. And even now, I can’t seem to catch it. I missed his whole childhood. And I’m missing his teenage years, right now.”

“I know.” Said Remus. “But he knows you, now. You’re in his life. You’re all he talks about. Everyday, he wants stories. Of his parents, too, but all their stories are wrapped up in you.”

Sirius closed his eyes, and tried to focus on the breeze that flickered round his face. Even now, he didn’t really feel free. He wasn’t sure if he ever would again. A darkness had settled into his bones, and it was only his duty to James’ son that propelled him forward. 

To Remus, the darkness read like a closed door. He wanted to grab Sirius by the shoulders and shake him, to yell at him I’m here, I’m here with you, now! But he knew Sirius had only asked him here for Harry’s sake, and it stung. He shouldn’t have come to the forest, expecting to have been forgiven after leaving Sirius behind for all those years.

They sat, slightly apart, in the same forest. Together again, finally, but each still alone in the world. Sirius noted how tightly Remus’s hands were pressed into fists, and broke the silence in a rush.

“I’m sorry I asked you to come here. And I’m sorry if I’ve fucked up your life, again, and that you’ve got the Ministry on your back.”

Remus sighed “I’m used to the Ministry being on my back. I’m actually barely on their radar at this point. They’re disgusted by me, but they’re keeping their distance.”

“Nothing about you could ever be disgusting.” Sirius’s voice was soft. They realised they were sitting much closer than before. Remus swallowed. He wanted to tell him then, everything he’d had to do when he was undercover, the things he’d been coming back to their flat to tell him 13 years ago. But the words lost their ignition in the damp air. 

“Sirius?” Remus began, as they leant in towards each other, so close that their foreheads were touching. He closed his eyes against the weight and the warmth of it. Then all of a sudden, it was gone. Sirius had pulled away. Remus couldn’t blame him. Still, there was one last thing he had to say. 

He fished in his pocket for some parchment, and wrote an address on it. “I’m keeping the Fidelius charm, but not from you. It’s your home, too. One day, you’ll come back to it, I promise.”