Peter
The next morning, James and Sirius made sure to wake up early so that they could talk to Pete, who had spent the night in Dorcas’s room.
James hesitated at the dorm door before heading downstairs, turning and giving Sirius a hug, which he hesitated before responding to, but then hugging James much tighter than he usually did. “Mate, I know how hard this is.” James whispered.
Sirius just nodded sadly; he had cried out all his tears after James and Remus had gone to bed.
James opened the door, and headed down the stairs, Sirius walking slowly behind him. They had come down just in time too, since Pete was on his way up the stairs.
“Jesus, guys, what’re you doing up so early? And where’s Moony?” Peter asked.
Sirius and James glanced at each other, “Look, mate, Moony’s not quite himself… he… just don’t be surprised if he acts strange. Alright?” James explained.
“Try to be patient with him.” Sirius tells him.
Peter looked from Sirius to James, concerned and confused, but nodded.
They headed up to the dorm, and just outside, they heard a muffled crying. “Fuck.” James muttered, “I didn’t think he had woken up yet.”
Sirius shrugged and opened the door. Inside, they found Remus curled up on the bed, crying into his knees. The sight hit both of them harder than they expected, the quiet sobs cutting through the silence in the room like a knife.
“Remus, mate, I’m back,” James said softly, trying to steady his voice.
Remus’s head whipped up, his eyes wide and filled with confusion and fear. “Grant! I thought you’d left me!” His voice cracked as he stood unsteadily, stumbling toward James.
Before James could react, Remus reached him, wrapping his arms around him with surprising force, as though holding on for dear life. James felt the familiar weight of his friend’s embrace but there was something different in it now—something fragile, desperate.
Sirius stood by the door, watching, feeling Peter’s gaze burn into the back of his head. There was a tightening in his chest, an unexplainable tension as he watched James hold Remus. His instinct was to step in, to offer comfort, but the situation felt too delicate, too fragile for anyone else to intrude.
“Grant, please don’t leave me,” Remus whispered into James’s shoulder, his voice small and shaky. His grip tightened around James as if the words were a plea, a desperate need.
James hesitated for a moment, blinking back the sting in his own eyes before he spoke, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere, Moony. I’m not leaving you. You’re not alone.”
Sirius swallowed hard, and Peter shifted uncomfortably, his eyes flickering between the scene before him and the two older boys. The weight of the moment hung in the air, and even Peter, who was typically uncertain in moments like this, could sense how deep the situation truly was.
Remus pulled back slightly, still holding onto James as he wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. He looked up at him, searching his face with wide, tear-filled eyes. “Grant... I’m scared. I can’t remember... everything’s so fuzzy.”
“I know mate.” James said, patting Remus’s back. “I know.”
“Grant, please don’t leave me like last time.” Remus muttered.
“I won’t.” James told him.
“I wanna play with my toys!”
“Like we did when you were little?” James questioned, now concerned. They didn’t have any toys on them.
Remus frowned. “I’m not little. I’m six!” he said proudly.
Sirius saw James’s eyes darken, but otherwise, he did a pretty good job of keeping a straight face.
Sirius did not. His frown deepened, and the shadows under his eyes darkened.
James rubbed Remus’s back softly.
“I know mate! You’re so big! But, we have a big day coming up, so I think you should rest more.” James said, trying for playfulness.
“And then we’ll play?” Remus asked.
“Yup!” James responded.
Peter stepped forward, watching the encounter warily. “Moony, mate, what’s going on?” He asked.
Remus blinked at him. “Siri!”
Sirius’s heart dropped. The name ‘Siri’ echoed in his mind like a cruel joke, a knife twisting deeper with every passing second. It was obviously derived from his own name… but it wasn’t. Remus was calling for him. The Remus that Sirius knew, the one that was buried deep inside of this immature version of himself, was trying to talk to Sirius. He could feel it. He knew his Moony.
“Remus…” Sirius whispered, his voice trembling under the weight of heartbreak. He tried to step forward, but his feet felt rooted to the spot. “Remus… that’s not Sirius. I’m Sirius.”
Remus turned his head, his brow furrowing in confusion. His wide, innocent eyes scanned Sirius like he was trying to solve a riddle too complex for his six-year-old mind. “Who’s Sirius?” he asked, his tone soft, laced with genuine curiosity.
The question landed like a physical blow. Sirius staggered back slightly, his chest tightening. He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat, choked by the raw ache spreading through him. “I’m Sirius, Moony,” he managed to say, though his voice cracked and barely carried the words across the room.
But Remus didn’t respond the way Sirius had hoped. Instead, he tilted his head, studying Sirius for a moment before shrugging. “No, you’re not,” he said simply, his tone matter-of-fact, as if correcting someone on an obvious mistake. Then he turned to James, his face lighting up with tired trust. “Grant, I think I’m sleepy. Can I lie down again?”
James froze, his gaze flicking helplessly between Remus and Sirius. “Of course, mate,” he said quietly, his voice thick with forced composure. “Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll let you know when it’s time to eat.”
Remus nodded and shuffled back to his bed, pulling the covers up to his chin and nestling into the pillows. “Thanks, Grant. You’re the best,” he murmured as his eyes fluttered shut.
Sirius’s hands balled into fists at his sides, his nails biting into his palms as he watched the scene unfold. The lump in his throat threatened to choke him, and he turned away sharply, unable to bear the sight of Remus curling up with that misplaced trust, that unwavering belief that James—or "Grant"—was the one who could keep him safe.
Peter shifted awkwardly beside Sirius, his face pale. “Padfoot,” he began, his voice hesitant. But Sirius cut him off with a shake of his head.
“I need some air,” Sirius muttered, his voice rough and barely audible. Without waiting for a response, he strode toward the door, his steps heavy with anger and grief.
As the door clicked shut behind him, James let out a long sigh, sitting down heavily on the edge of the bed. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at Remus, now peacefully unaware of the storm raging just outside the dormitory.
“Pete,” James said after a long moment, his voice low, “watch him, yeah? I’m going to make sure Sirius doesn’t do anything stupid.”
Peter nodded wordlessly, moving to sit closer to the bed. James stood and followed after Sirius, his heart aching for both of his friends—and the fractures between them that he didn’t know how to mend.