To the Moon and Back
The crackling flames inside the fireplace flickered and licked the small living room with warmth, encasing the lonesome space with a heavy sense of comfort the ragged man had longed for after the past week. He was worn after (—successfully, mind you) infiltrating the wild pack of werewolves he had been tasked with doing by Dumbledore. He would have toed off his shoes by the entryway if he still had them, having thrown them out in favor of blending in with the wolves who detested wearing them out of their ‘human-ness’, however seeing as he no longer had them, did not need to do so and instead cast a quick charm to remove the dirt and grime he had accumulated so as to not track it into the cottage.
Remus looked down at his toes, gauging the effectiveness of his halfhearted charm, and was greeted with an unsuspecting envelope lying askew on the rug he stood. He picked it up, his brows knitting in concern as he read the sender’s name: James Potter.
He wondered what he wanted, finding it odd that James had risked being seen to owl it. It was plain and had two enchantments on it: a time–sensitive charm and a protective spell to keep the letter from being destroyed before its arrival. He walked into the living room and placed the envelope on the small table in the center of the room, hoping it could wait until he got himself cleaned up or after speaking to Minerva. Having just returned from his mission, he was tired and had yet to talk to her regarding his daughter’s wellbeing. It had been at least a week since he’d last seen her, or at least he hoped it was. Wolf packs weren’t fond of human concepts like time and calendars.
There was a whooshing sound behind him, accompanied by a small pop. “Remus?”
Speak of the witch, he thought.
He turned around and met with McGonagall’s sullen face. It appeared as though she had been crying, her eyes irritated and puffy, but no tears were presently falling. In her arms, she held a three-year-old baby, currently clutching a stuffed animal: an expertly sewn tabby cat. The toddler noticed him and her eyes brightened with the realization that her father was finally home. She squirmed in the professor’s arms, prompting the older woman to set her down. She ran over to him as soon as she was placed on the floor and hugged his leg immediately.
“Papa!”
He bent forward, picking her up with ease, but let out a mocking huff. “Well, aren’t you growing? What have they been feeding you?”
The girl merely giggled into the stuffed animal. He smiled softly, looking at the girl lovingly, and placed a kiss on her forehead. He looked up to see McGonagall, her solemn face gazing into his.
“Perhaps it’s best if we spoke in private.”
“She’s a child, I don’t think she will —”
“It’s not her I’m worried about, Remus.” She kept her gaze, her hand clutching her arm tightly as if willing herself to stay steady. Remus grew weary of her mannerisms, it wasn’t every day that McGonagall wore a face as deeply hurt as that. Something had happened, something bad.
With the height of the war having been only a couple of days ago, he had been under constant stress while attempting to keep his identity covert. The stress, as well as the poor living conditions the pack he joined was living in, had taken a toll on his health. It was hard on him, rarely having the time to spend with his daughter. Recently, however, he noted that he wasn’t being called in as much, and he suspected it was because some of the members were wary of his position during the war. Not many wizards were trusting of a werewolf nowadays… not even his own friends.
He looked down at the girl, her head resting on his chest as she petted the toy cat. “Hey, it’s late, you need your rest now.”
The girl pouted, showing her great displeasure and hatred for sleep, she wanted to stay up and read with her dad. Remus sighed and thought to himself. “I’ll make banana chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast tomorrow. How about that?”
She thought it over, simplifying the need for pancakes over staying up, and nodded enthusiastically. He set her down and she bolted up the stairs to her room. The two waited silently just to ensure she was no longer in earshot and sighed when they heard her door close shut.
“Why don’t I make us some tea?” Remus said, making his way over to the kitchen where he began to pour water into a kettle. McGonagall stood near the fireplace, her eyes glistening with what seemed like tears, but the fire had ways of fooling even the most observant.
Remus looked through the assortment of teas in his cupboard. “So how are James and Lily? Has Sirius updated the Order on how they’ve been?” He found some Bofang Lynch tea leaves from the last time he travelled and picked some out from its container. “How about little Harry?”
He was oblivious to how Sirius’ name caused McGonagall to tighten her grip on her arm, or how dark her eyes had grown. The flames no longer fooled the observer of the emotions that swayed in her eyes. Remus walked back into the living room with a tray containing two cups and a dish of sugars and cream. He handed McGonagall a cup, prepared the way she always enjoyed it. She took it hesitantly, taking a sip to calm her ongoing nerves.
“I wasn’t awaiting your arrival so soon, Professor. So, what is it that you’d like to discuss —”
“You-Know-Who has fallen,” she said abruptly.
Remus’ eyes shot open, nearly spilling his tea, shocked awake by the news. He was excited, waiting to hear how he’d fallen, but the witch’s face had not an ounce of excitement nor relief. No, she looked very, very appalled.
“That’s —” he began but decided to remain quiet.
“You-Know-Who has fallen, but at the cost of more innocents to die.” She gulped very dryly. “Remus,” She was pained to even say the words. “Both Lily and James were attacked by him in their home… they’re dead.”
She walked away from the fireplace and stood behind one of the couches facing Remus. His face was devoid of emotion, all except denial.
“But — but how? They were protected under the Fidelius charm! How could he find them — they were —” But a certain black-haired wizard popped inside his head. He hadn’t wanted to, but his voice came out a croak. His glistening green eyes looked up to seek some kind of consolation from his old professor. “Sirius?”
McGonagall shivered slightly, taking another sip from her tea. “Most of us were aware that Sirius Black was the secret’s keeper. He was the only one who knew of their location. And just this morning he viciously killed Peter Pettigrew along with twelve muggles. How have you not heard of this, Remus? It’s everywhere!”
Remus covered his face with his hands, unsure of what to say. “I just arrived from up North. I haven’t read any newspapers or talked to any wizards or witches, not even on my way here. I thought You-Know-Who’s fall was all a rumor.” He drew in a shaky breath. “Are they really — Are you sure?”
He looked up at the elder witch, hoping it was all a terrible joke, but she was never one for jokes like these.
“Did Sirius really… ?”
“We’re all hurting from their loss, but I can’t imagine what you’re going through.” She never managed to look him in the eye after that. “If there’s anything you need… any way I can help… don’t hesitate to reach out.”
It was true then. He had lost those closest to him in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t that long ago that he had set up a play date for you and Harry just before they had gone into hiding. Even Peter had vouched to look after you while he had gone up North, but he had already asked McGonagall for the favor.
Sirius and himself were on rockier terms before, but never like this. Not now that he had betrayed their trust and led to the Potters’ demise. And to think he was — he was going to — He pushed the thought back into his mind.
“I have to go back. Hogwarts was breached not too long ago and I need to…” but McGonagall’s words grew quiet. An awkward, suffocating feeling of moroseness hung on top of the two like a darkening cloud. The older witch bid him her condolences and a goodbye.
“I’m so sorry, Remus.”
As soon as McGonagall disapparated, Remus picked up the forgotten letter from the table and fell back onto the couch. His hands trembled as he opened the letter, his heart beating faster with every growing second. The dry parchment felt like acid, burning his skin with the cruelness that was the truth. He didn’t want to touch it — it felt vile — but at the same time... it was written by James, he had to read it. The slightly yellowed parchment crinkled as he opened the envelope and read from it.
Dear Remus,
If this letter reaches you, well, there’s no way to put it other than we’re dead. Somehow, Voldemort must have found us. I enchanted this letter in case something were to happen to us, and well… it must have worked then if you’re reading this.
Regardless, that is not the only reason why I have written this letter.
Moony, this may be hard to accept, but inside the contents of this envelope, I have written the number and code to a vault in Gringotts. It may not be much, but I want to help fund your daughter’s years at Hogwarts and help you ease the burden. It should cover her books, uniform, and other items she may need for the following seven years there. Please, Moony, I assure you that we won’t be needing the money anymore and Harry will still have plenty for his own needs if he managed to escape the harm done to us. Just take care of that munchkin for us, she’s like a daughter to all of us.
I know it’ll be hard, but hopefully you’ll have Sirius with you. He’s one of your closest friends too, Moony, don’t be afraid to rely on him. He cares about you, probably more than Lily and I, which I’m very jealous of by the way. Take care of each other and your little pup too. We love you both, to the moon and back.
Much love,
James and Lily Potter
p.s. Lily thought that last part cheesy, but I liked it too much to leave out.
He couldn’t hold it back any longer and let out a heart-wrenching wail. He clamped a hand over his mouth, screaming into it as he held the letter in the other.
Up upon the steps sat the small girl. Her eyes grew watery as she watched the scene unfold. Never had she seen her father wail as hard as he had just now. The hands which he used to hide behind did nothing to conceal the hurt his cries emitted. She didn’t know what was hurting him, what could possibly make him look and sound so miserable? Minnie must have left a while ago, the girl didn’t see her in the living room anymore. She continued to grow concerned as she saw her dad get up from the sofa and walk over to the fire. He collapsed onto the floor, his legs giving up mere inches away from the fire.
The girl clambered up the few steps left before reaching her father’s room where she climbed onto their shared bed and pulled the blanket off of it. It trailed behind her as she dragged it around the room. She did her best to not make any noise as she grabbed some stuffed animals from her cot and made her way downstairs. She could see him clearer now, as she made her way towards him.
He was still kneeling in front of the fire, hands hiding his face, and his hair a mess. The sweater he wore so neatly was rumpled and falling off of one of his shoulders. The girl dropped her toys onto the table before she dragged the blanket closer towards him, trying her best to drape it over his shoulders, stumbling amongst the heavy folds of the blanket that pooled onto the floor around them. She was beside him now, pulling the fabric up towards his face to cocoon him, just like he did when she was upset.
Remus felt his daughter’s hands as she pushed the blanket closer to his face. He looked up from his hands, attempting to blink his tears away. He felt dizzy, loopy almost from the endless dread surrounding him, but the tiny hands touching his face drew him away from the fearful weight. As far as he could tell, they were patting away the tears falling from his eyes.
He whispered her name, the sound a terrible croak.
The girl looked at him, then ran somewhere behind him where he couldn’t see. She was back no later than a few seconds with the stuffed toys. She dropped them onto his lap and then sat in front of him, picking up one toy at a time and placing them neatly between them. She picked up a scruffy, black dog plush and began to pepper kisses all around his face. She did the same with the rest of the animals until there were none left to smooch him. She placed the last one down, a fluffy-looking stag, and looked back up.
“Better?” she asked innocently.
Remus, knowing she was copying what he would do to soothe her aches and sadness, chuckled tiredly. He opened his arms up, still holding onto the blanket, and welcomed her for a hug. The girl wasted no time in rushing into his embrace, hugging his neck with her chubby arms.
“I’m feeling much better, Pumpkin,” he mumbled into her hair. He didn’t want to worry her much, but the fresh tears did little to calm her worries. “Thank you.”
He planted a soft kiss onto the crown of her head then went back to hugging her. More tears insisted on falling, ones he couldn’t hold back. He had just lost his family, he couldn’t lose her too.