"Could’ve followed my fears all the way down
and maybe I don’t know what to say / But I’m here in your doorway"
Just around nine thirty, someone knocked three times.
Remus had just managed to put an overexcited, very awake Harry to bed and it had not been little effort, as Harry seemed to never get tired nowadays and often tricked Remus into telling one last story, giving one last kiss, hearing one last joke or searching for one last monster under the bed before sleeping. Remus ran down the stairs to open and pushed out on his way Harry’s small trains, toys and wooden dogs from all over the floor. He straightened his stained sweater as he ruffled his hair, searching for his wand he found under a pile Harry’s dirty overalls and fuzzy socks. He took a quick look to the state of their home, filled with books but no shelves, wizard dolls and newspapers, colourful and messy and hoped it wasn’t fucking Marie Kondo out the door. He held his wand tight, in case he’d have to deal with someone even scarier, and turned the doorknob.
The man he met on the step brought with him a cold gust of wind and a ghostly silence inside the house. Remus felt himself freeze, heartbeat rising, and soberly recognized Sirius Black. He could see that Azkaban had given him a rigidity in the stance and a thinness Remus didn’t remember, but then Remus never tried to remember. His memories of Sirius were tainted with loss and grief and would always come late at night, when he was alone and too weak to push them away. Sirius had the same dark hair along his collarbones, though, same eyes : unforgettable piercing, stormy grey, that was only made brighter by the new dark circles under his eyes. Sirius took a step further, and Remus found himself slowly raising his wand. Sirius stopped to the warning, but no fear shook his frail bones. He looked crushed, but three years of imprisonment could do that to a man, Remus guessed, and Sirius had no right to his pity. Hell, he should still be in Azkaban. Why was he not in Azkaban ?
Their silence was broken when Remus heard a footstep on the stairs behind him. He came back to reality at once, realising the danger and immediately fearing for Harry.
“Harry.” he said, in a low voice he never used, “Get back to your room.”
The toddler quietly turned around.
"I don't mean any harm." Sirius said, tender look and almost smile. He was almost fucking smiling.
"You'll understand I can't really believe that." Remus' voice was ice cold.
He saw a flash of hurt and tiredness in Sirius' face.
"I didn't do it. It wasn't me."
"Why are you even here ?" Remus' anger was audible now, "You should be in Azkaban."
"I just escaped. I needed to see you. I needed to see him."
"I'm not letting you see him."
"I didn't kill them !" Sirius looked frantic now, and not far from tearing up. "Will you please let me in ?"
Remus hesitated. He’d been fearing this day since he took on Harry, only days after James’ and Lily’s death, since he took an oath before Dumbledore and what was left of the order. That day, he’d made another promise, silent, to Lily and James. He’d be there for Harry.
They left Godrick’s Hollow alone, werewolf and orphan, for a small village in the south.
Harry grew up, Remus grieved, and for a while it was just the two of them against the rest of the world. Lone wolf and a cub : it would never be known which saved which.
Around full moons, it was always harder, he was afraid he’d run away and his nerves were merciless; on these days, he’d look at Harry and see James’ curls or Lily’s smile and lose it. When Remus almost lost ground, Harry’s chatter and soft laughter always brought him back.
Remus would cast protecting spells each night, and kept contact with Mary through the floo network, and had put a fireplace in Harry’s room, just in case.
But his anger faltered as he heard Sirius talk in such a sincere way, no trace of a lie in his eyes, and Remus was weak, and Harry was far in his room, and Remus thought maybe he could just open the damn door. And part of him never stopped wishing Sirius would come by one day, tell him he never betrayed his best friends in the worst way, never lied to Remus.
“For old times’ sake.‘’ Sirius was practically begging now, “Let me explain.”
“Drop your wand then.”
Sirius happily obliged, throwing it away in the geraniums, and followed Remus inside.
“Tea ?” Remus wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation. He’d just let Sirius Black enter his house, murderer Sirius Black, traitor Sirius Black, Sirius Black. And for what ? A glimpse of honesty his blind mind thought he’d seen ? He was already taking so many risks, Sirius was a great wizard, and though Harry was protected by Remus’ spells, he knew Sirius’ danger. Hell, if Dumbledore came now, he’d lose Harry’s charge. Maybe rightly so. What kind of protector, what kind of father- no, not a father, let his kid so near a murderer ?
He looked at Sirius, unarmed, almost small, frail under his dusty clothes. He accepted the cup of tea with shaking hands.
“I didn’t do it,” he repeated, “I can prove it.”
Remus turned around. That was new. They both knew Remus would never trust him again like he used to, that nothing could erase the years of anger and grief where he thought, I’ll fly to Azkaban and kill him myself, but he owed Sirius the chance to explain.
“Talk then.”
Sirius left the tea and started, slowly, carefully, wide eyes on Remus :
“We changed the secret holder. Peter- Peter was in. He’s the one that betrayed us. We thought that no one would ever suspect him, you know. And then,” Sirius looked up at Remus, jaw tight, understanding that they didn’t need to hear what happened that night.
“He showed me the mark, seconds after their death. He looked so horrible. He said he’d blame me, and that he’d disappear.”
Remus was taken aback by the sincerity in Sirius’ words, but Peter was dead and buried, Dumbledore had promised, and he couldn’t stand the thought that Sirius was trying to accuse him now.
“He’s dead, Sirius, you can’t just say shit like that.”
“No he’s not. Watch.” Sirius started fumbling through in his robes, reaching for something, and Remus pointed his wand at him threateningly. Sirius took a rat out of his pocket.
“I had so much trouble. I couldn’t find him anywhere, but I searched, I searched, I never stopped for months since I escaped.” Sirius had a mad look in his eyes now, “ He never left Hogwarts, the rat.”
He almost threw the rat at Remus. Though Remous thought he was going mad, he recognized the damn animal. The shock numbed his senses, and immediately Remus tried to transform it. Before him appeared Peter Pettigrew, alive, something awfully sinister in his small grin.
Peter tried to talk, the start of a plea and weeps, and Remus just watched as their old friend, that should’ve been five feet underground, raised his hands above his head in a pathetic, manipulative attempt to grin. Remus could only stare at the dark mark on Peter’s forearm, proof of the betrayal and murder he comitted. He started feeling weak, as his whole world and what he thought was truth came down in ashes.
“Don’t listen to him, Remus…”, Peter whispered, sly look on his face, “Moony, come on, see, I had no choice and you know I would’ve been killed if I refused.”
The Peter, young, joyful, with rosy cheeks and shiny eyes, that Remus knew, was nothing like the man standing before him now. His traits were gloomy and dark, and there was something of a rat in the way he tried to shrink his body and disappear under the rug.
“You never deserved them, you bloody traitor.” Sirius spat out.
Peter tried to reply, but Remus locked him up as quickly as he could, casting a spell to make him arrive directly to Dumbledore. He’d know what to do, the old bastard. He’d said dead and buried, for sure. Liars. All of them. Liars.
Truth lost its meaning then, and for a moment Remus thought he might puke as the memories of the last four years flooded in, all dams broken. Time seemed to stop as Remus realised the last three years of his life, the tragedy of his life, was built on lies.
“I wanted to kill you back then.” Remus whispered to Sirius, and maybe it wasn’t the apology he knew he deserved, but Remus had believed him murderer for so long, and felt betrayed again. Betrayed by Dumbledore who lied, by Sirius Black who was gone and made him grieve and dared to come back, by Peter who had let them go through hell and taken the dark mark.
He thought of James and Lily. He thought of his friends whose death had left him empty and father of a kid he’d loved more than he’d let himself realise. Remus thought of love, then, and what it really means when each time he loved he ached.
Parts of him were gone with them, and he knew he’d never feel as understood as when Lily would soothe him and drink wine and talk with him. He knew he’d never laugh as he did when James and he would plan pranks or race him in Hogwarts corridors. Their unconditional, loving acceptance was one of a kind and had been brutally torn from the world. But there was still life, he could feel it every time Harry smiled at him. There was still Harry.
There was still Sirius, now.
The silence was stretching out. They needed to talk. Not yell, for once.
It was stupid, really, but now he wondered what that meant for them. If they could ever love each other again.
He was suddenly aware of how dishevelled he must look, with new scars on his neck, dirty sweater and how time and pain had been cruel to his body too.
He gazed at Sirius again, and he could see the boy he fell for, same sharp cheekbones and nose, soft eyelashes and lips. Now though, there was a fatigue that could be read all over him, giving him a ghostly look. They’d changed, he thought. They got older. Sorrow written all over their faces, both wanting to beg for forgiveness and not knowing how.
“You thought I was the traitor.” Remus guessed anger just came easier to him, but there was a question in his words, why did you do that to me?
“Doesn’t that make us even ?” Sirius replies.
Remus scoffed, “Not really, no.“
“I didn’t see you anymore and you hid things from me. You were always away with the werewolves, and- ”
“And I was a werewolf”, Remus cut him, spiteful.
“Don’t you think you'd have been a bit more doubtful, if my last name hadn’t been Black ?” Sirius bites back.
And they both fell silent.
“Will you let me see Harry ?”
Remus flinched at Harry’s name, and hesitated to reply.
Sirius saved him the trouble, “It’s fine if it’s too soon.”
Remus sighed, relieved, “I’d prefer to wait a bit, Sirius, I can’t- I’m so sorry.”
He wondered if trust would ever grow back. If he’d be able to trust Sirius again. To talk to him. To love him like he once did.
“You can sleep in my bed if you want.”
Sirius smiled at him, tender gaze, whispered a Thank you and Remus knew, for sure, that love would grow back and maybe never went away, even when tragic pain and betrayal numbed it.