Accidentally In Love IX

[lls_mutant]

Title: Accidentally In Love Part 9
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine
Notes: none, for a change. Although it is pretty dark. But you knew that.



Part IX- Disappearing

Caradoc Dearborn disappeared on a windy, bitter Friday in February in 1980, or at least that’s what people eventually put together.

Technically, that probably wasn’t true, Remus thought. He’d probably been taken on a Thursday night. Remus had last seen Caradoc when he’d left the lab Thursday at noon, aching and miserable with the promise of a long full moon night ahead. Of course he hadn’t been into work on Friday, Saturday, or Sunday, but the woman who ran the bake shop across the street had been able to report that there were no lights or activity on Friday, and Caradoc had not called in for his morning sticky bun and coffee. Even more worrying, Fridays were the only days that she baked gingersnaps and he hadn’t appeared, and that was certainly cause for worry.

It made sense Remus thought sourly, arms crossed as members of the Werewolf Capture Unit questioned him. Kidnap the man on the night of the full moon and make it look like perhaps his werewolf apprentice ate him. Way to thank your servants, Voldemort. After stealing the Stone of Scone, a few chalices, enough books that Voldemort should have his own personal library, and a few other strange artifacts, you’d think a Dark Lord would be a little more appreciative of what appeared to be a faithful minion. Figures.

Which was why Remus was a bit surprised- and maybe even a bit annoyed- when Alvin Macnair walked through the door, smooth and smiling and shaking hands… and speaking on Remus’s behalf.

Of course Lupin hadn’t eaten Dearborn, Macnair assured the Capture Unit. He cited a close friendship and an impeccable record (well, except that one blotch put there by a Sirius Black, but we all know what sort the Black family are. Strictly confidential, of course!). He lied about a physical and a weighing the morning after the full moon- if Remus had eaten anyone, his weight surely would have reflected it, and in fact he weighed less than at his last inspection. He gave assurances that Remus was very carefully monitored, not only by the Registry but by Albus Dumbledore himself. And finally, he had reliable witnesses that were positive that Caradoc Dearborn had been taken from his town flat, not his little cottage in the country. How could a werewolf enter a flat in a building and attack, with no other disappearances or spottings nearby? And the damage. Yes, there had been a struggle. But there were no claw marks and no signs of animalistic brutality. So if they could just let Mr. Lupin go….

“We take care of our own, and those who serve the Lord,” Macnair said afterwards, with a sanctimonious face and bright, cruel eyes, and Remus suspected that Macnair had been one of the Death Eaters that had abducted Caradoc. But if he had, Remus couldn’t find it in his mind.

It was an odd week, tense and uncertain and constantly on edge. Disappearances were becoming alarmingly more common, but no one knew what to do or where to look. There had been a spectacular scene with Moody roaring about finding Dearborn himself, but his search brought him up empty handed. The Ministry was called, but requests to find missing persons were too numerous these days, and there were people that had been lost far longer than Caradoc. Remus begged Regulus to find out what had happened, but Regulus’s contacts knew nothing… or didn’t trust him enough to tell him. Regulus’s credibility was rapidly slipping among the Death Eaters, and it was only a matter of time before… before.

It was a terrifying, lonely, angry red fact, but it looked like Caradoc Dearborn was gone.

***

Order meetings were increasing in frequency, although those in attendance varied from night to night. More members were traveling, out on missions, working, or busy with something else that was important too… or dead. But the meetings still occurred furtively, in the Dragon Rider Pub, in Elphias’ Doge’s home, in an empty classroom at Hogwarts, and in clearings in the snow. Tonight they were in the Dragon Rider, warm with the roaring fire and the smell of fried food and good ale, cold with the talk of disappearances and death.

“How’d it go?” Sirius asked as he sat down across from James and Peter.

James looked down and Peter shook his head. “No good. Three leads, two of them completely false and one took us straight to a meeting of Death Eaters, but no captives that we could see.’

“Get any of the Death Eaters?” Sirius asked.

“Couldn’t,” James grumbled. “There were twenty of them. I wanted to hex as many as we could, but-“

“We never would have made it out of there alive,” Peter reminded him sharply.

“If we’d just Transfigured-“

“It wouldn’t have worked!”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. Peter’s caution wasn’t a new thing, but it was rare for him to argue so vehemently with James.

James took his glasses off and polished them on his shirt with angry motions. “Anyways. We didn’t find Caradoc. How’s Moony holding up?”

“Spending more time ranting about the Werewolf Capture Unit pulling him in than anything else. He got out of it because they can’t prove it, but a lot of people at the Ministry don’t believe it.”

“There’s people in the Order than half don’t believe it,” Peter muttered ominously. James and Sirius both made noises of disbelief. “No, seriously,” Peter insisted. “You have to look at it from their perspective. A lot of them don’t really know Remus, but it’s gotten around that he’s a werewolf and-“

“Wait. How’s it gotten around?” Sirius demanded. “I sure didn’t say anything.”

“This time,” Peter muttered, but James spoke up before Sirius could react to that.

“Moody, Doge, and Longbottom all know. I mean, they’ve known for years, because of Mr. Lupin. Caradoc knows, and Hagrid does too.”

“And you know Hagrid is rubbish at keeping secrets,” Peter supplied. “And Alice knows.”

“She wouldn’t-“

“The point, Padfoot,” Peter cut in, “is that lots of people know. It’s not a secret in the Order. But that doesn’t mean that everyone in the Order is comfortable with it. I mean, all their lives they’ve been told werewolves are terrible creatures and they’d kill you as soon as look at you. We,” he gestured to the three of them, “know that that’s bullocks. But we know Remus and we’ve known him for years. The others haven’t. And let’s face it, Sirius, Remus isn’t the most social person. He’s cagey around new people.”

“Quiet,” Sirius corrected. “But he does talk to people.”

“But when you go over the conversation in your head later, you realize he’s never told you anything about himself.’

Sirius couldn’t really deny that, but, “A lot of people do that. What do you really know about Frank Longbottom? Or Fabian Prewett? Or Emmeline Vance?”

“Look, Sirius, all I’m saying is that just because someone’s an Order member doesn’t mean they trust Remus.” Peter took a deep drink from his beer. “That’s all.”

Sirius shook his head and picked up his own beer.

“So how’s Remus really doing?” James asked finally, when the silence became too heavy.

“You know Remus. He’s holding up.”

“He always holds himself together,” Peter sighed. “It’s like nothing ever touches him.”

“Unless you know where to look,” Sirius amended. There was some truth to Peter’s statement, but Sirius was beginning to see the signs of intense grief again: the increased craving for physical affection, the lack of initiation in lovemaking but the voracious response, and the way Remus would sometimes sit in a dark flat staring out the window until Sirius came home. But those weren’t really things you could say out loud, even to your friends. “How’s Lily doing, James?”

“Better. She’s not so tired these past few days,” James said without thinking, and then they both froze.

“Wait. What’s wrong with Lily?” Peter asked.

James and Sirius exchanged glances, and Sirius had the grace to at least feel embarrassed and guilty. James sighed. “Look, Wormtail-“

“She’s been sick,” Sirius invented quickly. This was not the time or place for this announcement, and they both knew it. “Just a head cold, but you know how these things are.”

James nudged his toe under the table in silent thanks and played along. “I’m surprised she hasn’t gotten sick before this, working in St. Mungo’s. They say Healers get every little thing that comes around.”

“Yeah,” Peter agreed, looking from one to the other, and Sirius was quite sure he didn’t believe them.

“Anyway, she’s very concerned about Remus,” James jumped in. “She says after his mother…”

“Yeah.” Peter’s face softened in sympathy. “It’s hard. I wonder how much more he can take?”

“I wonder how much more any of us can take,” Sirius sighed. He shook his head. “And I hope none of us are next.”

***

Three days later an owl came for Remus, with the attached summons requesting his presence in the Office of Documents, Letters, and Wills in the Ministry. The clear, precise script sent his stomach collapsing against his ribs, and a howl of anguish threatened to escape. He bit down on it hard, turning away so Sirius couldn’t see his face as he read the letter again.

“What is it?”

Remus looked out the window at the gray, wet streets dimly glinting back lamplight. “They want me to come by tomorrow night. Five o’clock.”

Sirius came up behind him, laying a warm, gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’ll come with you, if you like,” he offered.

“Your work,” Remus protested.

“I’ll get off early.”

“All right.”

The Ministry Official was a thin man with red hair; Remus correctly guessed he was a Weasley. Michael, in this case. He was a compassionate man who greeted Remus with a warm handshake and a clap on the shoulder, and didn’t even raise an eyebrow at Sirius’s uninvited presence. The only other people in the room were Dumbledore, wearing a grave expression and somber robes, and Alastor Moody, uncharacteristically quiet as he sat in a chair.

“Good evening,” Michael said once they were seated. ‘We are here for the reading of the Last Will and Testament of Caradoc Dearborn.”

Remus looked up. “You know he’s dead?” he asked. “For sure?”

“Mr. Dearborn wrote his will in Irving’s Invisible-Unitl-the-Inevitable Ink,” Michael explained. Although his words were formal, his tone was very, very gentle. “The ink disappears once the seal is set to the document, and remains invisible until the writer has passed away. With the amount of travel Mr. Dearborn did and the nature of his work and his unusual interests, he was strongly advised in this course of action.”

Remus slumped in the chair, eyes dry but burning as Sirius fumbled for his hand. He clutched the proffered fingers tightly.

“Well then,” Michael cleared his throat. “Shall we begin? I, Caradoc Dearborn, being of sound mind and body, do hereby set my hand to this document and leave my final instructions in the event of my death.

“If my body is in any way accessible, I have purchased a burial plot in the graveyard at Hogwarts. Please bury me there with as little fanfare and mourning as possible. If my body is not to be found (which, if I died on the trip the Isle of Drear, is entirely likely), please use this plot for a member of the Order of the Phoenix who may not have made such relevant plans. I do not care to have a formal memorial service as it is an unnecessary expense and burden on those I love, which is admittedly very few (I believe the current count is about two). I say this with no bitterness because I have loved my life and have no regrets, but my life has always been quiet and private and I wish my death to be the same.

“With that said, I do recognize I need to dispose of my worldly possessions and property.

“To Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, I leave the lab, the animals, and all of the equipment. He will know what to do with it all, and I only ask that the animals are treated humanely (i.e., please hand them over to Hagrid, where I know they will be in the best of care). Any proceeds from the sale of property or equipment that cannot be used at Hogwarts should go to the Order of the Phoenix, or should I be so lucky as to survive the Order’s purpose, then to Hogwarts to help fund the education of any orphaned students.

“To my assistant Remus Lupin I leave the books in the laboratory, my research notes, and the cottage on the outskirts of Tillsonburg. He is not to sell it, but to use it as a refuge, either as relaxation, or as safety or a home, should the need present itself. Sadly, I believe this may be the case. I also leave him my blessing and benediction: live your life for your passions, my son, and let no one take them from you.

“And finally, to my dearest friend and comrade Alastor Moody, I leave everything else to do with as he will (except the Prism of Pompous Principle, which he had blood well better keep!). May no brainless bint ever sink her claws into you, and tonight please go to the Leaky Cauldron and have the best steak dinner they can give you, on me. (Take Remus with you. I still think he doesn’t eat enough.) And remember, my friend, no regrets. Ever. I’ll wait as long as I can before the next adventure begins.

“I wish I could be more specific, but the truth is beyond these few requests I don’t care, especially since if you’re reading this I’m not in this world anymore. Goodbye, and the road rise to meet you all.

“Caradoc Dearborn.”

***

They sat in a corner in the Leaky Cauldron, dirty dishes on the table. Sirius leaned back in his chair, utterly stuffed. Caradoc and Moody were steak connoisseurs, from what he’d picked up, and the dinner had been beyond excellent into phenomenal. It had also been accompanied by pints of good beer and capped off with the densest, most buttery pecan pie that Sirius had ever eaten. It was a small group, just himself, Remus, and Moody. Dumbledore had had to return to Hogwarts, and Moody hadn’t wanted anyone else along.

Remus was staring at the wall behind Moody through most of the meal. He’d eaten, but mechanically, and he’d drunk far too much. His lower leg was firmly aligned with Sirius’s under the table, from ankle to knee. But other than that, he said very little.

It was Moody who was talkative throughout the meal. He and Sirius had discussed various Death Eaters and attacks, looking for patterns and wondering about names. It seemed too… casual and cavalier, Sirius thought, until now.

Moody was staring at his plate, fingers loosely closed around the handle of his sixth pint of beer. His normally animated face was grim and still, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out where his thoughts lay.

“How long did you know Caradoc?” Sirius asked him.

Moody looked up and chuckled. It was a dry, hollow sound, but there were decades of affection behind it. “Too long.”

“First year of Hogwarts?” Remus asked, bringing himself back to the table.

“Before that. I was nine. We both had Muggle parents, you see. My Da died in that war the Muggles had, where the king’s nephew got assassinated or some bullocks like that. Mum went two years later. Some sort of cancer. They came and took me to an orphanage, and most of the kids there were…” he gazed off, tapping his fingers against the countertop. “Don’t know. But there was this one kid there- that was Caradoc- he was small and skinny and that first night he gave me his book to read. Never read it, but I appreciated it all the same. Been there since he was five. No one really wanted him because he was a strange kid. Course, that was the magic, but no one at the place knew that- they were all Muggles.

“We got our letters at the same time and went off, and we were both put into Ravenclaw. Had us a great seven years. Neither of us had a lot of friends, but that was okay. Didn’t need them. We both knew what we wanted from early on, and that was all that mattered. It’s been that way for,” Moody looked down and sketched some figures on the table with his finger, “forty seven years, I guess.” He took a long drink of beer.

“I always assumed I’d be the one to die if one of us did in this war or whatever it is we’ve got going here. Didn’t think it would be him. Not what he would have wanted. I’m glad I don’t know the details.” He lapsed into silence again.

Sirius was surprised. It was the longest speech he’d ever heard Moody make about something that didn’t have to do with being an Auror and chasing down Dark Wizards. He’d always assumed Moody had no interests or no life outside of work, and it was a little disconcerting to be proved right. And yet… and yet there was something inspiring there as well. Not so much in Moody’s dedication, but the way he spoke about Caradoc. No regrets. No wishing to change the past. Just respect and loss and a deep regard that transgressed friendship and went over into brotherhood.

“S’kind of a sad story, isn’t it?” Remus asked drunkenly as they made their way home later that night. Sirius had to put an arm around Remus’s waist to keep him from falling against the walls of buildings they passed. “They were like… like brothers. Like you’n’James. And now Caradoc’s gone and Moody’s alone.”

“Yeah. Hey, come on. We’re almost there. That’s it, lean on me.”

“Think you’d be able to take it like that if James died?”

“Don’t even say that.” Sirius was concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other as Remus swayed.

“Would you?”

“No. You know I’d be a wreck. Here Moony. Lean against the wall while I get out my keys.” Sirius propped him up. Remus’s head hit the wall, his hair flopping inelegantly around his eyes in lank strands.

“What if I died?”

“Not funny, Moony.”

“Not meant to-“ before he could even finish the sentence, Remus leaned over and vomited on the pavement.

Sirius moved out of the way, but held Remus up as the spasms wracked his body. “Just as well,” he murmured, smoothing Remus’s hair back. “You’re really going to feel it tomorrow, Moony. All done?” Remus nodded miserably, and Sirius fumbled for his wand to vanish the mess. “Good. Let’s go in.”

Remus was quiet and cooperative as Sirius helped him up the stairs and into bed, undressing him before he could fall asleep. “You okay there, Moony?”

“No,” Remus mumbled. “’Snot fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

“People keep dying.”

“I know,” Sirius said softly.

“People I love keep dying.”

“I know. Come on. Lift your legs.”

“Mum. And Caradoc. And Lily.”

“Lily’s not dead, Remus.”

Sirius looked up in time to see Remus process that, and a flash of… control, perhaps?… pass through his eyes. “No, she’s not,” he mumbled. “But they… they….”

“They Crucioed you,” Sirius reminded him, unbuttoning Remus’s shirt.

“Right. Tired of it. Why is it always people I love? Why not someone else for a change? Don’t want you to die.”

“No?” Sirius asked lightly. “That’s good. Me either.”

“Love you,” Remus mumbled.

Sirius hesitated, eyes closed and smelly shirt in his hand. “I know you do, Remus,” he whispered.

“Y’do?”

“Yes. Now lay down. I’m going to sleep on the couch tonight.”

“Don’t.”

“I’d better, in case all that beer makes a reappearance.” He guided Remus’s head down to the pillows and kissed his forehead softly. “Go to sleep, Remus. I love you.”

“Love you too,” Remus whispered, seconds before he began to snore.

Sirius grabbed his own pillow and a blanket and retreated to the living room, leaving the door open just in case. He settled on the couch, couldn’t get comfortable, and eventually picked up a book.

He finally nodded off at dawn.

***

Hangovers were the most brutal things imaginable. Remus sat up with a groan, clutching his throbbing head. The bed was empty except for him and a tangle of covers, but there was a glass of water and a Hangover Potion on the nightstand. Both helped.

He stumbled to the bathroom and managed to get through the shower, bits and pieces of the night before coming back to him. He stood in the shower and let the spray wash over him as he remembered Sirius helping him home, holding his hair back as he’d vomited (he flushed with embarrassment at that), and helping him to bed. What he didn’t remember was what all he’d said.

He fumbled for the tap and shut the water off, and gracelessly clambered out of the shower and into something resembling clothes (although he was blearily sure they didn’t quite match or weren’t appropriate for being seen in public.)

Sirius looked up with amusement when Remus stumbled in. “Your pajama bottoms are on backwards, and your t-shirt’s inside out.”

“Oh. ‘Snice. What day is it?”

“Wednesday,” Sirius laughed. “You really are hung over, aren’t you?”

Remus made some indistinguishable noise as a response. “Why are you home?” he asked, dropping onto the sofa next to Sirius.

“I told them I was taking the day off. I know you need help closing up the lab.”

“I have to do that today, don’t I?” Remus sighed. He leaned his head against Sirius’s shoulder. “Great.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Thanks.” They sat in silence for a moment. “Sirius?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

Sirius kissed his forehead. “You’re welcome,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry about last night.”

“No problems. It’s not like you haven’t taken a hard enough beating to have earned it,”

“Yeah.” Remus shifted in the soft cushions. “But I’m sorry you had to sleep on the sofa.”

Sirius laughed. “I’m just relieved you didn’t boot in bed.”

“Wanker,” Remus said, elbowing him. Sirius elbowed back. “But thanks.”

“Any time.”

***

It took three days for Remus to sort through the lab. Sirius helped the first day and Dumbledore came by on the third, but the truth was it was a long, lonely process for him. Remus hadn’t realized just how much Caradoc had come to mean to him until he leafed through the erratic pages of notes and the books and paraphernalia. When he found the unopened box of gingersnaps, he had to stop work for a full hour and go for a walk; the fast, burning kind in the cold that made it hard to think and tired out the mind.

When it was done, the lab was just an empty set of rooms full of boxes and cages, lacking any personality or warmth or excitement. It was easier to walk away than he expected, because the lab was no longer the place he’d worked and been happy. That place existed only in his mind.

It was three twenty three in the afternoon. James was at practice, training hard, discussing strategies. Peter was at work, bent over his desk or his cauldron, experimenting. Sirius was hopefully in the Ministry studying case files, but more likely at an attack site or tracking a Dark Wizard or suspected Death Eater. And Remus was locking up an empty lab, with no place to go but an empty flat.

He pulled his cloak around him and walked, and eventually his steps took him to the flat Lily and James shared. There was a light on in the window and the smell of baking bread coming from the chimney; he grinned and knocked.

“Remus!” Lily greeted him in bare feet and an old robe. Her hair was pinned back in a messy bun and she looked tired. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “I closed the lab.”

“Oh.” Lily opened the door wider. “Come on in.”

The flat was so clean the surfaces were sparkling. The bread he’d smelled was cooling on a counter- all three loaves of it. A mop was dancing over the floors; it stilled with a wave of Lily’s wand.

“Why the domestic binge?” Remus asked, surprised.

Lily flushed. “It’s just been… I don’t know. Do you want something to drink? It’s almost tea time anyway.”

Remus shrugged. “Sure. I guess.” He sat down at the polished kitchen table. “Are you all right, Lily?”

Lily nodded as she stood over the stove bustling over a kettle and tea leaves, but she didn’t say anything until she was seated across from him, mugs of tea in their hands and a plate of scones between them. “It’s just… have you ever felt like there was this person you were close to, and there was this huge thing in between you that shouldn’t be important but it is?”

Remus decided to refrain from pointing out the whole obvious werewolf thing and just nodded noncommittally.

“It keeps popping up,” Lily said, staring at her cup like it was the most fascinating object in the world. “At odd times, just when I don’t expect it. Sometimes I’m fine, and sometimes it comes back and I can’t stop crying and…” she sniffled, wiping her eyes frantically.

“Does James know about it?” Remus asked quietly, having cottoned on to what she meant the moment she said ‘it’.

Lily nodded. “He knows it happened, although I never told him anything else. He knows when it bothers me.”

“Often?” he asked, not sure what else to say.

She shook her head. “No. Just sometimes.”

“Today?” She nodded. “When you, erm…” he made a vague, suggestive gesture with his hands.

Lily laughed bitterly, dashing the tears away from her eyes. “That’s rare. Not that we do it, pervert,” she said, kicking Remus under the table when his inner twelve-year old insisted on waggling his eyebrows. “That I feel that way when we’re having sex- that’s what’s rare. It comes up on me unexpectedly.”

“Is that why you’re doing your best Witches’ Weekly impression here?” Remus asked, waving his hand at the clean flat and fresh bread.

“No.” Lily’s voice was growing stronger now each time she spoke. “That’s… something entirely unrelated,” she said, and now her eyes glowed. Remus had noted the sharp shadows beneath them and began to wonder. “But that- I can’t tell you what that is but that- has been another thing, too. It’s something I want and James isn’t ready, but there’s no ready anymore.”

“Uh-huh.” His mind was rapidly translating. He thought he might be right, but if it was it was one of those subjects where you couldn’t (or shouldn’t) push, and if he was wrong, that was even more embarrassing.

“But I’m talking too much,” Lily decided, and put her cup down decisively. “I’m sorry. You come here just after losing a friend and I prattle on about what’s bothering me.”

Remus reached out and squeezed her hand. “It’s fine. We were there together. Lily? Does James know, erm, that I… know?” She shook her head, and he couldn’t help but be relieved. “All right. I just wanted to check.”

She made an odd expression he didn’t quite understand, and then squeezed his hand back. “So what are you going to do now that the lab is gone?” she asked, and he suddenly understood that unpredictable vertigo of standing on the edge of a cliff that she must feel when memories took her over.

He could see a back alley and smell the garbage, see a dingy flat with a water-stained mattress. He could feel cold biting into his bones and hunger gnawing at his gut, and wind swept through his mind. He shivered.

“I’ll find something.” Lily’s face contorted in sympathy, and he wanted to push her away. Instead he met her eyes with a steady, dry gaze. “I’ll be fine, Lily.”

She understood, and she smiled in response. “I know you will, Remus.”

***

Two nights later it was a Wednesday night; a boys’ night as always. The four of them were sprawled around Sirius’s living room, drinking beer and playing Exploding Snap. Sirius had secretly been worried that the revelation of his and Remus’s relationship would taint these nights, especially as Lily and Tina were quite explicitly not invited. But it never seemed to come up, perhaps because he and Remus were, well, him and Remus. As if reading his thoughts, Remus grinned at him from across the floor and lifted his beer slightly, in salute.

“I really wish I was better at this game,” James growled, tossing in another losing hand. Smoke was released in satisfying cracks as the cards hit the floor. “Honestly. Every time we play, I lose.”

“It’s all luck, mate,” Peter said smugly. “All luck. And you, my friend, just have lousy luck.”

“I do. Lousy luck. Miserable” James lamented. “But,” he continued, sounding more purposeful, “sometimes that lousy luck turns out to be good.”

“Like when you burned a hole in your Transfiguration essay and McGonagall gave us an extension because she had the flu?” Peter asked.

“Well, kind of like that, but…” James took a long drink of beer, and realizing what was coming, Sirius did too. “I have some news.”

“Let me guess,” Peter said with a grin. “You’re quitting the Wasps to take on Filch’s job because he’s running off with Poppy Pomfrey to build a little love nest.”

“You’re leaving us early tonight and going out for drinks with Snape,” Remus suggested.

“No. Lily’s pregnant,” James said.

Remus looked down and peeled the label off his beer bottle, but Sirius could see the smile creasing his eyes. And his own face was beginning to grin. But Peter stared at James with his eyes wide with shock.

“Drinks with Snape is more believable.”

“What, than that yes, Lily actually slept with me and I managed to put her up the pole?” James laughed. He looked much more relaxed about it than he had a few months back.

“How far along is she, James?” Remus asked.

“She’s in her second trimester.”

“Wait.” Peter was still gawking. “You waited how long to tell us?”

“Well, Lily said it’s best to wait until now,” James said defensively. “The chance of miscarriage drops, and especially with as much stress as everyone’s under these days, it just seemed best.”

“Second trimester is, what, three months?”

“Almost four,” James admitted.

Peter looked at Remus, who shrugged placidly, and then at Sirius, who flushed and looked away. “You both know,” he said slowly. “Both of you know already.”

“I wasn’t sure,” Remus admitted. “But when I talked to Lily the other day, she said something that made me think she might be expecting.” Peter snorted, and then his eyes bored into Sirius.

“Come on, Wormtail,” James pleaded. “When do I ever not tell Sirius something first?”

“You both knew, and none of you told me.”

“It wasn’t our secret-“

“News,” Sirius corrected very, very quickly.

“-To tell,” Remus finished. “Come on, Peter. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I’m always the last to know,” Peter muttered, crossing his arms and leaning back against the sofa.

Sirius sighed impatiently. “What was James supposed to do, Peter? Tell all three of us at once? Come on. He didn’t have any idea that Moony might know, either.”

“Bet you told him,” Peter muttered.

“Bet he didn’t,” James immediately flared.

Remus shook his head. “Sirius didn’t say anything. I only figured it out through Lily.”

“You would stick up for him, because you’re his fucking bitch. You bend over for him whene-“ Peter never finished, because Sirius had launched himself at him, magic forgotten and fists flying. It took the combined efforts of Remus, James, and a few elementary but well-placed hexes to separate them again, but when they did, Peter was white and shaking and tearful.

“I’m sorry,” he said, before Sirius had to say a word. “I didn’t mean to say it. Remus, I’m sorry.” Remus, whose face was just as white but with splotches of high color on his cheeks, pursed his lips together and nodded. Peter turned to face James and Sirius. “I’m sorry.”

“We’re all wound up these days,” James said, when the silence stretched a little too long.

“Right. With everything that’s going on…” Peter added, dabbing at his lip. It had split from one of the two punches that Sirius had landed. Remus silently went into the kitchen and to freeze water for a quick ice pack.

“Tempers are bound to get a little out of control. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything sooner, Peter.” James was casual, but Sirius could see the effort in the strain of the tendons in his neck. He pressed his lips together to keep from saying that this was James’s news and James shouldn’t have to apologize for not telling the others until he was ready. If Peter only knew how much sleep James had lost over this baby already….

“It’s all right,” Peter was saying. “I overreacted.” He extended his hand to James, and James took it. He pulled Peter in, hand on his shoulder in something between a handshake and a hug. Peter turned back to Sirius, his hand extended again. “Sirius?”

Sirius took it, but not as willingly as James had. “We’re all right,” he said grudgingly, because even though it wasn’t all right this minute, it would be in the morning.

“Well then,” Peter said awkwardly. “I should get going. Work tomorrow.”

“We’ll see you at the Order meeting tomorrow night?” James confirmed.

“I think so. Good night.” Peter left hastily, figurative tail between his legs. The other three stood in silence before the fire for a long time.

Remus spoke first. “I’m going to bed. Prongs, have a good night, and give my love and congratulations to Lily. And congratulations to you, too.” He clapped James on the shoulder, his hand lingering in a quick squeeze. James covered it briefly with his own. Remus paused briefly by Sirius, dropping a quick kiss on his cheek near his mouth. “Good night,” he whispered, and Sirius recognized it as tacit permission to stay as long as he needed with James.

“You okay?” he asked James once the bedroom door had shut.

“Yeah. Of course. Are you?”

Sirius half-shrugged, half-nodded. “Do you want one more beer before you go?”

“All right.”

They settled at the kitchen table, neither of them in any sort of hurry. “I suppose that’s been a long time in coming,” James laughed bitterly.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve all known each other for nine years now, almost ten, and I don’t know that we’ve ever thrown punches at each other.”

“Even when we deserved it.” Sirius took a sip. “What got into Peter, anyway?”

“Tina,” James said conclusively. “Lily and I dropped by the other night. We were actually going to tell them about the baby, funnily enough. But when we got to the door we could hear them arguing. She said she needed a commitment, and soon, or she was going to have to resort to drastic measures and he didn’t want that.”

Sirius whistled through his teeth. “You know, I’m beginning to think Moony’s right about her.”

James made a face. “You do realize that’s a lot of Peter’s problem with Remus these days?”

“Well, it’s not like Tina’s that nice to him!” Sirius retorted.

“I think she has a problem with… er…” James flushed, “you and him.”

Sirius’s snort was as expressive as any words he could have uttered.

“Look, it’s not that easy a thing to get used to,” James said. “I mean, I’m still not totally used to it. It was weird just now to see Remus kiss you. I’m not saying he shouldn’t have or anything,” James inserted quickly as Sirius’s face began to contort in annoyance, “but it takes some getting used to. You can’t expect everyone to turn over and be excited about it all at once.”

“I know,” Sirius relented, thinking of Damien and James and yes, even himself and Remus. “He’ll get over it.”

“Yeah.”

“Speaking of not easy… how are you doing with the coming of Prongs junior?”

“Better,” James admitted. “It’s still unnerving-“

“Yeah, well, the thought of you as a father-“

“Don’t make me hex you, Padfoot. It’s getting easier, though. I’m starting to get excited.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah. Hey, thanks for the beer and everything, but I should get home, before Lily kills me. Pregnant women, you know…” James smirked.

“Fortunately, I don’t. Have a good night, Prongs.”

“You too.”

***

Remus was lying awake when Sirius entered the bedroom. He watched the silhouette as Sirius tried to get ready for bed without waking him, but when Sirius slid under the covers he gave up and moved over to him. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Sirius wrapped a warm arm around him. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Remus said. “James head home?”

“Yeah, before Lily sends out search squads.” Sirius paused. “Remus?”

“Mmm?”

“Were you upset I didn’t tell you about the baby?”

Remus propped himself up on one elbow. His eyes had adjusted to the dark and he could just see the outline of Sirius’s face in the moonlight coming in through the window. “Sirius, you and James have always been… well, you and James. I would have been shocked if it had played out any differently.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Now stop acting like a girl, you great oaf.” Remus shoved his shoulder, other thoughts on his mind.

“But Peter-“

“Peter needs to get his head out of his arse tonight, I think we can all agree on that. He only said one thing that was right, and although I’m a little alarmed by his accuracy, who am I to argue?”

“What’s that?” Amusement was creeping into Sirius’s voice.

“That I’ll bend over just about any time for you.” Remus nudged him rather insistently.

Sirius chuckled. “Like I have that much say in the matter.”

“Like you mind.” Remus nudged him again, and was rewarded with Sirius’s warm hand gliding over his arm.

“Fine,” Sirius sighed, in his best long-suffering voice. “Once again I will succumb to your whims and fuck you through the mattress. You’re so demanding, Remus.”

“Oh, how you suffer,” Remus coached, closing his eyes as Sirius began to nuzzle his neck.

“I do. I really do. A live-in lover who is always willing to give me sex on tap and has a tendency to wander around half-dressed when no one else is here and is naked underneath me….”

“I’m beside you.”

Sirius flipped him over and pulled his weight on top. “Better?”

“Much.” Then words and banter weren’t required, and only sensation was needed. Sensation that drove away darkness and insecurities and hurts that Remus wouldn’t ever admit to, and left him sated and sweaty and with Sirius draped across his back, kissing his cheek.

This was his sanctuary. As long as they could be alone like this, he wouldn’t let anything touch him.

***

February melted into March, which blew into April, and even as the snow melted and the days lengthened and the sunshine intensified, the world drew in around them and became darker and darker. Three more Aurors had been attacked, although only one had died. Shacklebolt had been in St. Mungo’s recovering for over a month, and Doge had been hurt himself, although the damage was minor. Threats or promises, depending on how you looked at it, that the Aurors would be allowed to use Unforgivable Curses in apprehending suspects became louder.

The Order was fairing little better. Already they’d lost members: Marlene McKinnon had been killed with her family ages ago. Caradoc had disappeared. And in late March, the Dark Mark rose above Edgar Bones’ house, and again, an entire wizarding family was lost. The last was terrifying, because the Bones family was not a Muggleborn family, and as far as Sirius knew had not had too many Muggleborns marry in. They weren’t as pureblooded as the Blacks or the Malfoys, but they were still considered “respectable enough” by such families… at least for association.

Sirius had told Peter about Edgar Bones’s death very carefully. He could understand Peter’s fear for his own family, and if a near-pureblood family had been attacked, the safety of Peter’s family would certainly be in question as well. But Peter had taken the news very calmly- almost uncharacteristically so. Sirius had been impressed.

Peter was getting quieter these days, ever since that fight when James announced his wife was pregnant. Sirius remembered what James had said about Tina wanting some sort of commitment. He noticed Peter never mentioned any sort of engagement, but he still seemed to see her frequently. The other three didn’t- Tina was clearly avoiding them, which Peter finally explained had a lot to do with her discomfort around Remus. Between the homosexuality, the knowledge that something was different about him, and the clear fact that Remus didn’t like her (although Sirius thought he did an admirable job of hiding it), the battle lines were pretty clearly drawn. And yet, for all that, the few times Sirius saw her without Remus he noticed a deep hatred in her eyes when Remus’s name was mentioned- something too deep to really be explained by Peter’s reasons.

But that was Peter’s problem, he supposed, because he had enough of his own.

He was rarely home before eight anymore, and even weekends were slipping away fast. There were more trips around England to chase down Death Eaters, but their success rate was dropping. Damien was rapidly growing frustrated, and his temper was close to snapping. And on the nights Sirius came home before ten, he came home to find Remus tired and drawn and faking an ease Sirius knew he didn’t feel.

Seventy-two resumés had been sent out. Seventy-two. Remus had had three potential employers owl him out of that, and only one felt it important to tell him why he wasn’t getting any interest in his resumé: the utter lack of references with Caradoc’s death, and yes, the news was out. They knew Remus was a werewolf. So there were no jobs, and Remus was left twisting in the wind, sitting in the flat all day and waiting for owls that weren’t going to come.

Remus was still- to the best of Sirius’s knowledge, anyway- “working” for the Death Eaters. He hadn’t said a word about it since the night he’d confided Dumbledore’s plan in Sirius, and Sirius hadn’t asked. Talking about it was too dangerous, even he could recognize that. In fact, Sirius had the suspicion Remus shouldn’t have even told him.

There were days when Sirius wondered what they were fighting for. Wondered why he and Remus didn’t just say bullocks to it all and run off to America or Greece or Timbuktu and live there. They could convince James and Lily to come, and Peter could bring his family, and they could forget Voldemort and the war he’d wrought over something as stupid and insignificant as who had what ancestors. But then he picked up the paper and saw the reports of purebloods dying because they dared to disagree. He went into work and he saw the destroyed houses, the dead bodies of children, and the ruined lives and he knew that no matter how idiotic Voldemort’s reasons might be for waging this war, the war had to be fought, because the lives that would otherwise be lost were worth fighting for. And to run away would be as bad as just joining the Death Eaters himself. He listened to Lily and James and Frank and Alice talk about the children that were coming, and the world they hoped their children would have, and the lives that they deserved. He thought that if Voldemort had his way, James’s child would never see the light of day. He thought of his best friend standing at a tiny graveside- or worse, two gravesides- and he remembered the day that Remus and Damien had buried Marilyn. And with the horrid clarity of one of Peter’s visions he saw himself at Hogwarts, burying Remus and not able to leave the gravesite. And he knew that yes, there were things worth fighting for, and if he lost his life doing it, it would be worth it.

He just wished he wouldn’t have to.

***

Remus took a deep breath, looking up at the carved wooden sign. The Dragon Rider Pub seemed warm and friendly when he was coming here to drink, and it was certainly the backdrop to many Order meetings, but today, when he stood clutching the Help Wanted ads from the Daily Prophet, it seemed intimidating. But there was nothing to be done for it. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

It was two-thirty in the afternoon, and the pub was nearly empty. The lunchtime crowds had long gone back to work, and even the most ardent supporters of the four-day weekend hadn’t yet called in. A young woman was at the bar wiping down glasses; Remus approached her and asked if he could speak to the owner.

Fabian came out of his office with ink on his fingers and a worried expression on his face. “Remus! Is everything all right?”

“Yes, as far as I know. I came-“

“No one’s dead?”

“Not right now. I’m here because-“

“No one’s gone missing?”

“No. I saw your ad-“

“Then what are you doing here?”

Remus blinked at him. “I saw your ad in the paper. You’re looking for someone to work nights?”

Fabian laughed. “No, seriously. What are you doing here?” Remus waved the paper, and the laughter faded from Fabian’s face. “You are serious,” he said.

“Yes. Look, I’m willing to work any hours you can give me. I can’t give you employer references as Caradoc is dead, but I can give you references from Hogwarts to tell you that I am reliable and that I-“

“Hold up, hold up!” Fabian said, hands up. “You want to work here? Remus, why? I mean, that job is for some spotty kid just out of Hogwarts!”

“I’m only two years out of Hogwarts,” Remus pointed out.

“Yeah, but… I mean… you were working with Caradoc Dearborn. Can’t you get a job in the research world?”

“Not without references,” Remus said evenly.

Fabian shook his head. “Look, Remus, I’m flattered, but this is just ridiculous. I’m looking for someone to take out the trash and wait tables and maybe tend bar every now and then. This isn’t the kind of job you’re looking for.”

“Fabian-“

“Besides, if word gets out to anyone that you’re a… well, a you-know-what, then no one will ever come here again, you’re out a job, and I’m out a business.”

“So don’t have me tend bar or wait tables,” Remus said quickly. “Keep me in the kitchen. I’ll sweep up, I’ll do the trash, I’ll wash dishes, I’ll do whatever you need.” He managed to keep the waver out of his voice, but it was hard. He’d never thought he’d have to beg.

“Remus-“

“Look, Fabian, please. I’ve got seven Sickles left in my account at Gringotts. That’s it. I haven’t told Sirius yet-“

“Well, whyever not?” Fabian’s brow furrowed. “Remus, something will come along.”

“No, it won’t! Look, I’ll get down on my knees if I have to, but please. You need someone to work here. I need a job. I’ll do a better job than some kid just out of Hogwarts, and you know it. Please.”

The world hovered on the edge of a knifeblade. Finally, Fabian sighed.

“All right, Remus. You can start tomorrow.”


On to Part 2