The Line in the Sand (1/2)
Jul. 2nd, 2008 08:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lls_mutantName: Lissa (aka lupinslittlesis)
Team: team Post Hogwarts
Title: The Line In the Sand
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: I'm mean. Also, AU.
Summary: Everyone does things they know they shouldn't. Sometimes, they even regret them. When Peter confessed to Sirius that he was a Death Eater, the world changed.
Prompt: "The friend is the man who knows all about you, and still likes you."
Genre(s): AU, angst
"YOU DID WHAT?" Sirius roared.
Peter faced him, white-faced and clenching the table instead of his wand, tense with grim determination. "I've been working for the Dark- Voldemort," he said, trying to keep his voice from breaking and failing miserably. "For a year."
Sirius punched him. Peter had been expecting it and rolled with it, crashing out of the chair and landing on the floor in an undignified heap, blood gushing from his nose. He rolled over and held his hands up before Sirius could strike him again. "Wait!"
"Why should I?"
"Because I can tell you more! A lot more! And you need to hear it!" Sirius paused. "It's about James," Peter panted. "Please, Sirius. At least hear me out."
Peter could see Sirius's mind racing, examining each possibility and path of logic at breakneck speed. "All right," he finally said, grudgingly. "But you'd better make it good."
Peter swallowed and tried to stymie the flow of blood from his nose. He had one chance, and that was it.
"There's a lot that I need to tell you- to tell Dumbledore," he began, feeling his way cautiously. "Like I said, I've been a Death Eater for a year. I know names, I know plans, I know… I know things. But what I know now is that Voldemort wants Harry dead, and he'll kill James and Lily to make sure that happens."
Sirius nodded, and the abruptly the color drained from his face. He raised his wand.
"Padfoot, I'm sorry! I know what I did, and what I was going to do. But please… please," Peter begged, getting up to his knees. "Please believe me. I couldn't betray James and Lily."
"But you intended to. You're even their Secret Keeper, for Merlin's sake!" Sirius shouted. He raised his wand again.
"But I couldn't," Peter whispered. Sirius hesitated, but oddly, Peter felt something like peace now. Because no matter what, he was a dead man. Sirius would kill him or Voldemort would kill him.
But Sirius grabbed Peter's wand, and then grabbed his arm, twisting it painfully as he hauled Peter to his feet. "Tell me where they are, you worthless piece of shit," he growled. "Or you're going to wish I'd killed you."
***
Lily was crying. Peter had seen it before, but he'd never been the one to make her cry. Sirius was still gripping his arm, and James was sitting at the kitchen table, white and still and looking helpless.
"Well, James?" Sirius growled.
"Let me think for a moment," James whispered.
"What's there to think about? He betrayed us. He betrayed you. He's a fucking Death Eater! And Harry-" Lily started crying harder, and Sirius gave her a haunted, harried glance before turning back to James. "He. Betrayed. You," he said, each word deliberate. "The only reason I didn't kill him myself is because I knew you had to hear it from the bastard."
"We thought it was Remus," James whispered.
"Remus was never involved with the Death Eaters," Peter admitted quietly. But both Sirius and James ignored him.
"Should we?" Sirius asked.
James was silent for a long time. Peter saw him look at Lily, as if he was weighing what the action would do in her eyes. Then he abruptly stood up and left the room, heading down the hall towards Harry's nursery.
The clock ticked loudly.
Finally, James returned, hollow-eyed and pale. "Let's take him to Dumbledore," he said simply.
There was an audible sigh of relief.
***
The clock struck 3:17 in the morning. Anyone who would have thought it would strike on the hour didn't know Dumbledore well. James glanced at the clock automatically, Peter started at the sound, and Sirius ignored it.
The second hand continued to tick audibly.
"I see," Dumbledore finally said.
"I still think we should kill him," Sirius muttered.
James looked at Dumbledore questioningly.
"A bit harsh, I would think," Dumbledore said, looking at Peter from under bushy brows. "True repentance is rare enough that, when encountered, it should not be treated lightly."
"How do you know he's really repentant?" Sirius demanded. "How do you know he's not faking it to save his own arse?"
"Because confession to the very people you've conspired to betray requires the bravery of conviction," Dumbledore answered. "If Mr. Pettigrew wished to simply save himself, he would have come to me, first."
Sirius deflated, slumping in his chair and crossing his arms. "Fine," he muttered. "Send him to Azkaban then."
"That we cannot do, either."
"Why not?"
"The Fidelius Charm is still in effect. If we were to send Mr. Pettigrew to Azkaban, particularly with such regret and remorse already, he would surely go mad very shortly. And what he would reveal when not in possession of his own mind is frightening to think about."
Sirius opened his mouth to retort, and then shut it again, defeated.
Dumbledore turned to James. "You've been very quiet, James."
James shrugged. "It's not an easy thing to absorb."
"And what I am going to say will not be easy, either. You all must go on exactly as you were before."
"WHAT?" Sirius sat bolt upright. "You mean-"
"I mean exactly that."
"-with that cowardly, worthless, piece of shit-" Sirius continued. Dumbledore raised his voice.
"Voldemort is intelligent enough to watch certain dynamics. If you shun Peter now, he will surely know what has happened. And there will be a price to pay."
"-lummox with mush for brains- let him fucking pay- "
"Sirius, this might be easier if you would stop talking," Dumbledore admonished. Sirius ignored him, until James snapped out of it long enough to lay a hand on Sirius's arm. "Thank you," Dumbledore continued. "Voldemort would not just kill Peter. He would torture him." Sirius opened his mouth, and Dumbledore opened his hand. "A secret contained by the Fidelius Charm can not be gained involuntarily. But Voldemort has tortures that would make Peter want to tell him everything he knows. Everything must continue as it is. Harry's life, as well as your own lives, depends on it."
***
"I don't like it," Sirius said bluntly to James as they tumbled out of the Potter's fireplace. "We should have just killed him."
James shrugged, but there was no fire it. Instead, he collapsed into an armchair and stared at the fireplace as if he could see Peter still in Dumbledore's office. Sirius stood impatiently, but James couldn't bring himself to rant about it.
"Remus," he heard himself saying finally. "We need to tell Remus."
He shifted his gaze from fireplace to best friend in time to see Sirius sit down on the floor heavily.
"Shit. You're right. And all this time we thought-"
"No, we didn't think that. We just believed it because we had nothing more plausible. We always thought it was wrong." James shook his head. "I can't believe we were so wrong."
"I'll tell him," Sirius said.
"How much?"
Sirius shook his head. "I'll have to tell him everything. He'll figure it out anyway, and hate me even more for lying."
"He should hate all three of us. Lily and I didn't trust him, either."
"Yes," Sirius sighed, "but you're not the one that's in love with him."
***
Sirius sat at Remus's rickety table, hands clenched together so hard his fingers were leaving indentations in the skin. Remus was sitting across from him, his face neutral. Only the way his fingers twisted in the material of his robe gave away his feelings, and only someone who knew him as well as Sirius, James, or Peter did would know that.
"Peter," Remus finally said in a tight voice.
"Peter. Peter betrayed us."
"Peter was Secret Keeper," Remus said softly.
"Yes." There was such a spasm of pain on Remus's face that Sirius knew he'd worked it out. "I'm sorry," he said.
"I guess I should have expected it."
"It wasn't like that. We didn't have a better explanation, so we-"
"We assumed that because Remus is a werewolf and Voldemort is recruiting werewolves and offering them rights, and oh, because Remus has been off on top-secret work that he won't talk about, even though you wankers can't talk about yours either, that yes. He's a Death Eater. Despite the fact I'm a fucking half-blood."
"Remus, I-"
Remus waved his hand dismissively. "It will be all right. I suppose I would have thought the same thing."
That spurred Sirius. "What did you think?"
"That it was Peter."
"You knew?" Sirius demanded, half-rising to his feet.
"Sirius, sit down. No, I did not. If I did, I would have said something. But I just thought… never mind."
Sirius opened his mouth to argue, and then closed it again. Remus had his hands folded together and was staring out the window, a faraway expression on his face. He seemed distant and cold.
"So where does that leave us?" Sirius asked.
"Right where we've been, I guess," Remus sighed. "All of us thinking one of us is a traitor. Only now, we know it for sure."
***
The November wind whipped around Sirius's bare ears as he left the poky little bedsit that Remus lived in. He shoved his hands deeper into his cloak pockets and walked briskly, the dead leaves swirling around his feet. They were dry and brown and crackly, just like everything else.
He hadn't asked to fall in love with Remus. In fact, it had been the last thing he wanted, aside from falling in love with James. James, Remus, and Peter (he clenched his jaw so tightly the tendons strained) were more than just his friends; they were his family. The last thing Sirius wanted was for that to fall apart.
Of course, it had anyway.
A year ago, James had asked him what he intended to do about his crush on Remus. Sirius had never actually told James that, but James knew him better than he knew himself. He'd merely looked at James and said, "Nothing."
He hadn't imagined James's relief.
Aside from the whole complication of being in love with one of his best friends and said friend being a werewolf, Sirius had no desire to be gay, or to deal with any of the problems that came with it. He might be a social crusader, but the matter of Muggleborns and half-bloods not being murdered took up so much energy that whom he chose to sleep with was rendered irrelevant. He'd always believed sex and love were over-rated (look where it got his parents, after all), and a life without either was still filled with other wonderful things.
Of course, James was convinced he was just saving it for Remus. Sometimes, James was a bigger ponce than he was.
But he wasn't saving it. Sirius had done his research, and he knew the park where he could go. It was in the Muggle world, but that was really for the best. He'd been twice, but never dared to make that all-important eye contact with anyone. Tonight, he would.
He Transfigured his robes and cloak into jeans and a leather jacket, and then silently joined the ranks of men pacing the stretch of pavement. His hands twisted in his pockets as he strode along, face forward and tilted down, muscles taut with nerves. That one was too muscular, that one was too hairy, that one reminded him a little too much of Professor Slughorn…
Don't be so picky, he told himself harshly. That's not what we're here for.
He made eye contact with the very next man. He was medium height and build, with white-blond hair, a high forehead, and a nose that was too big for his face. His heart froze as their gazes locked, and then the man tilted his head to one side.
Sirius followed.
He knew what to expect, in an academic sort of way. He'd imagined this before. But he hadn't thought about the rough tree bark under his hands, or the callused hands on his hips. He'd known there would be pain, but he hadn't imagined a beer-scented voice hissing, "Relax, for fuck's sake" in his ear, and he'd never really believed there'd be blood on his underwear when he got home. But he did it, went through with it, came, and told himself he enjoyed it, damn it.
He was surprised how empty he felt, later that night as he lay in his bed alone. Empty and hollow and lost, and the unspoken confession that it had been the wrong person, the wrong place, and the wrong time.
James always did know him better than he knew himself.
***
The picture winked at him.
In reality, it wasn't the picture itself, but the picture version of him. James had stuck the photograph to his workbench with a Permanent Sticking Charm, because he couldn't conceive of a world where he would want to take it down. It had been taken shortly before they left Hogwarts. He and Sirius were standing in the middle, posing absurdly, while Remus and Peter made faces in the background.
He'd tried covering it up, but nothing really worked. Maybe because he didn't want to cover it up. What James wanted was for everything to go back to normal.
They'd been in this house for three months now. Three months with only Peter, Sirius, Remus, and Dumbledore as their connection to the outside world. Three months seeing the same walls, the same furniture, the same space. Three months of both him and Lily trying to cope, both frazzled and afraid, and at the same time bored out of their bloody minds and coping with a frustrated toddler. They began to fight- short, angry quarrels that sprang up out of nothing.
It was after one such quarrel that James stormed to the tiny basement, desperate for a few minutes to himself that wouldn't provide what he really needed. Instead of escaping, he found himself more confined in tighter walls, staring at that blasted picture.
He had taken to meddling with potions during their confinement. He'd found Lily's old Potions notes, and several experimental draughts that she'd toyed with. There was one from her third year… one she and Snivellus had come up with together (James spat at that thought) that he'd tried early on. The effects hadn't been quite what he'd expected, and Lily had made a notation that this one had earned her a very severe letter from the Department of Improper Use of Magic. James could see why, because nothing that good could be legal.
He'd doctored it up a bit, reducing the aftereffects and intensifying the hallucinogenic elements. The resultant sludge was bitter, but that could easily be forgotten when his mind was lazily floating on psychedelic clouds.
It was so easy to forget everything.
He came down an hour later, exhausted and drained, but a warm feeling still in his gut. James looked at the picture one more time and sighed.
Then he headed up the stairs, and back to the real life he was powerless to change.
***
The night before the full moon, Sirius stopped over at Remus's bedsit.
"You know we can join you," he offered as he prowled around, picking up the books that Remus owned and glancing over the back covers.
Remus regarded him warily. "You all haven't joined me in almost a year."
"Hey! You've said-"
"Padfoot," Remus said, and Sirius's heart soared at the use of the old nickname. "I'm not accusing you of anything. I know I told you to stay away."
"I know," Sirius said. "But that was a year ago. I wondered… I wondered if things had changed."
Remus heaved a sigh that seemed to come from his toes. "No. They haven't."
***
The pack. Remus hated that term with a passion. He focused on that as he made his way through the forest, the snow freezing through the thin soles of his shoes.
More than anything he'd wanted to tell Sirius to come with him tonight. But he couldn't. Because the comfort brought would be short-lived in the face of the shame that would soon follow.
Sirius couldn't know about Fenrir Greyback. Not ever.
He huffed, his breath coming out in a puff of fog in the cold February air. One day, this would all be over, for better or for worse. And then Sirius, James, and Peter would have to know, unless he could live with hiding it forever. Hiding that he too, was a traitor. At least in a sense.
Oh, he knew he was a double agent. A spy. One of the good guys. But to play the role convincingly, certain sacrifices had to be made. And that meant being friendly with the man who'd bitten him when he was a child, groveling to the very being that had ruined his life.
He took another deep breath. Don't be so melodramatic, he told himself. It's not that bad.
"Right," he said out loud. "Let's go."
***
He was used to pain and soreness the next morning, like a hangover intensified by twenty. And running with Fenrir's pa… group, he never had to worry about preying on himself. But this morning, he woke in a place he didn't recognize with a heavy feeling in his gut and a ferric aftertaste in his mouth. His torn robes were icy and molded to his body.
Why wasn't he with the others? Remus pulled himself to sitting, groaning as he tried to flex his fingers. He'd have to get home soon, especially once he noticed the gray patches on his skin. Frostbite.
He saw the red from the corner of his eye.
At first, he'd thought the blood was his. That the ice had cut his skin, or perhaps he'd done damage to himself again. But then he looked, and when he did, he had to turn away and vomit, because the corpse across the clearing was mauled, with intestines spilling out of his open torso.
From what Remus could tell, it was a middle-aged man. His face was torn open, and his limbs were mutilated as well, as if they'd been-
The penny dropped, and Remus began to tremble violently. He started to heave again, until there was nothing left in his stomach and he was collapsed in a heap, his cheek against the filthy snow and curled into a fetal position.
He'd done what he swore he'd never do. Deep inside him, his soul howled.
***
Somehow or other, he got himself home and collapsed naked under the covers, shivering despite the warmth of the down quilt the others had given him for his birthday two years ago. He had finally drifted off into a nightmare-laced sleep when the fireplace glowed green.
"Remus?"
Sirius and Peter. Remus shivered, pulling the quilt tightly around his ears. "Go away."
Peter cleared his throat. "We brought you some soup," he said hopefully.
The smell of it turned his stomach. Remus closed his eyes and choked down the bile threatening to rise. "I'll get it later. I'm not hungry right now." Maybe if he stayed under here, they'd go away.
"Come on, Remus. You need to eat. I'll dish you out some."
He heard Peter rattling around in his cupboards. It set his teeth on edge, but it was better than Sirius, who came over and pulled the blanket away. Remus grabbed it back, but not before Sirius got a glimpse.
"Merlin, Remus, you look terrible!"
"Thanks for the newscast," Remus scowled. He looked up at Sirius, who was watching him with the same pleading eyes he'd had ever since he'd told Remus they suspected him. Over in the kitchen area, Peter was filling a glass.
Remus was tired of being begged for forgiveness. Especially now.
He sighed and tossed the blanket back. "Fine," he muttered. "Whatever."
But when he got to the table, he couldn't bear to eat.
***
"Harder," Sirius gasped, twisting his fingers in the anonymous sheets of a dingy motel.
His partner responded, driving deep. Sirius closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the mattress, inhaling the scent of cheap detergent. "Come on," he growled. "Harder."
His partner hesitated. "Any harder and you won't be able to walk tomorrow."
"I don't care." The noisy air conditioner hiccuped.
"Hey. I wasn't looking for-"
"I don't care!" Sirius ground out. "Just fucking do it!" He pushed his hips back, hard. "Come on. You want to." He knew it was true- he'd seen it on the man's face. That was why he'd picked him.
A hand landed on his shoulder. Sirius bit it, and the man yelped and pulled back, and then grabbed a handful of his hair and twisted. He began thrusting again, this time hard enough to hurt. It didn't feel good, but it was what he wanted. Sirius began to twist away, and his partner pulled out and grabbed his shoulders, flipping him and pinning him beneath his weight.
He was a big man, bigger than Sirius was used to, with a physique that had gone to seed and rough stubble. Sirius raised his chin in challenge, spitting in his face. The man hesitated for only a second, and then backhanded him hard enough across the face that Sirius tasted blood. He pushed his legs up and entered again. The lube was drying up, but Sirius didn't care. On the contrary, he reveled in it.
Afterwards, his partner looked at him with concern, touching Sirius's throbbing cheek with gentle fingers. "You might want to put some ice on that, or you'll have some questions you don't want to answer tomorrow."
"Doesn't matter," Sirius stubbornly insisted. "Thanks."
The man shrugged, and began pulling on his clothes. "Thanks to you, too." He slipped Sirius a few notes. "For the room. You got it?"
"Yeah." Sirius looked away.
The man regarded him warily, pulling on his shoes. "You're not normally a kinky bastard, are you?" Sirius merely shrugged, and the man sighed. "Well, I hope it gets better for you then, whatever you did this for." And with that, he was gone.
Sirius sat on the bed, staring at the door. Then he shook himself, healed his face, and began to get dressed. He had less than fifteen minutes before he was expected at James's.
***
"They got Kingsley Shacklebolt today," Sirius said without preamble when he walked into the Potters' house.
"Well, thank you, Mr. Sunshine," Lily said crossly. She detached Harry from her leg and came over to examine the groceries that Sirius had brought in. "Couldn't you at least say hello first?"
"Sorry," Sirius muttered. "Where's your lout of a husband?"
"In the basement," Lily said. "Would you mind going down and hauling his you-know-what up the stairs before Peter and Remus get here?"
"Yeah. No problem." Sirius touched her gently on the shoulder as he passed by, in way of mute apology. Lily caught his glance and smiled grimly.
The stairs presented a bit of an issue. For once, he felt a bit sheepish about that. "Oi! Prongs!" he called out.
James didn't answer.
"Prat. James!"
Sirius finally landed on the floor. The basement was dark, except for a small flame. He could see the shadow of James sitting in an old beat-up armchair. He walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. James jumped and yelped something incoherent.
"Hey," Sirius said, hands up defensively. "It's just me." He pulled out his wand. "Lumos." In the bright light of his wand, James looked disheveled, pale, and disoriented. "Sorry. Did I wake you?"
"Huh?" James looked quickly at his work space, and then took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah. Guess I fell asleep. What time is it?"
"Nearly six."
James shook his head again. "I came down here… never mind. Come on. Lily's gonna kill me." He led the way up the stairs.
In the daylight, James looked even worse. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was clammy. "You okay?" Sirius asked.
James started. "What? Oh, yeah. 'Sfine. Hey there, buddy!" he said as Harry came hurtling towards him, laughing.
"Daddy!"
James seemed to perk up as he leaned down to pick his son up. "Are the others here yet?"
"No," Harry said, even though Sirius could hear voices in the next room.
"Silly," James laughed, tweaking Harry's nose. "Well, let's go see if Mummy's going to kill me."
"Mummy's going to kill Daddy," Harry gleefully informed Sirius. "Harry play now." He squirmed down James's body and ran off.
As they walked into the kitchen, Sirius felt oddly nervous. He couldn't understand why, until he realized that this was the first dinner they'd had where all five of them were together since October. He didn't know why it should affect him- they'd all seen Peter multiple times since his confession. But tonight, it was an attempt at….
An attempt at going back to what they'd all once been.
Lily was at the stove, stirring. With nothing to do and nowhere to go, she'd taken to making ridiculously complicated and involved recipes- a vast improvement from her cooking when she'd first married James. She was talking animatedly to Peter and Remus. Peter was washing dishes for her, and Remus was sitting at the kitchen table. Sirius noticed that his hands were far too thin and that the bones of his wrists protruded more than they used to.
They were all falling apart.
"-So I told him that if he didn't give me the crossword puzzle, I'd hex him to next Tuesday," Lily was saying. "It's not like he finishes them these days anyway, and I'm sorry, but I need more mental stimulation than reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar for the millionth time. A little egg lay on a leaf. One Sunday morning, the warm sun came up and-"
"Pop!" shouted Harry, from where he was playing with his Levitating Locomotive.
It was at that point that Sirius realized that Lily had not spoken to another woman in over nine months, and only the four of them and Dumbledore in terms of adults. He looked at James, but James was staring into space.
Of course, James was in just as bad of straits.
They sat around the table that night, and to Sirius's surprise the conversation flowed. It wasn't deep and it revealed very little, but they talked about funny things Harry had done, and the engagement of Emmaline Vance and Fred Malkin, and laughed about the idea of Arabella Figg hooking up with Mungdungus Fletcher and Deadus Diggle in an unattractive threesome. The table was lit by candlelight and it made a warm, golden circle that encompassed them all.
***
"Come back to my place for a while?" Sirius asked Remus.
"Sure." Remus smiled. Sirius's heart still leapt at the sight.
"You know," he said, after he'd gotten them both a drink, "I still underestimate Lily. I never realized until tonight how lonely she and James must be, but more her."
Remus turned the glass in his hands, watching the reflection of light playing on the liquid within. "You're right," he finally said at length. "I never thought of it before, but as much as we love Lily, we weren't her only friends."
"Not like James."
"Do you think James is okay?" Remus asked.
"As okay as he can be, yeah," Sirius said, even though he didn't believe it. "Did you notice he and Peter had a long conversation?"
"Saw that," Remus said. "You know, I'm not sure if I should be, but I'm glad."
Sirius wasn't sure what he thought about that.
They continued to drink. The night breeze blew in through the open windows and through the flat, glancing off sweaty necks and cooling the warmth of May. They began bitterly, Sirius knew that. But as the evening progressed, the alcohol burned off the bitterness and took them back to the days when everything had been easy.
Maybe that was why, suddenly, it was easy to lean over and kiss Remus, right in the middle of a sentence.
Remus froze for a moment under Sirius's lips, but Sirius's reflexes were dulled by drunkenness. And he was glad, because if he'd pulled away, Remus wouldn't have had time to recover and begin kissing him back.
Remus's lips were firm and gentle under his, and his fingertips ghosting over Sirius's face, as soft as the breeze. After a moment, Sirius dared to touch back. He was tentative, just as gentle, because if he touched too hard this bubble might pop and leave him in a reality he was all too familiar with and really didn't want.
There was no pressure, no rush. There was only the warmth of their bodies together, the whisper of skin under tracing touches, the gentle probing of kisses. Sirius could hear his blood beating through his veins, his breath catching in his throat. When he cracked his eyes open, Remus was the same.
They drifted apart naturally, and Sirius fully meant to smile. But he could only lace his fingers through Remus's, and suddenly, he was terrified.
"Sirius?"
Plague. That's what they were calling it in the Muggle world. Sirius had heard of it, but of course it didn't apply to him because he was invincible and would live forever. But now, with Remus here, almost in his arms, he was human again.
"Remus, I…"
Remus squeezed his hand. "I… yeah. Me, too."
"I didn't know."
"Didn't know what?"
"That I'd ever have a chance."
Remus smiled ruefully. "Me, either. Just another secret we've both been keeping, huh?" But his eyes were haunted and sad.
Sirius shook his head. "Look, I want this. More than I've ever wanted anything. But maybe we shouldn't rush."
Remus chuckled hollowly. "Who are you and what have you done with Sirius Black?" he said. "But no, I see your point. There's been too much… too much that we've hidden."
Too much that we're hiding now, Sirius thought. But he couldn't say that out loud.
***
Sirius couldn't tell James about it. Not yet. He could barely even say it to himself- how could he say it to someone who was like the other half of him? He couldn't bear to see James's face.
He couldn't tell Remus. If he told Remus, he'd have to explain what he'd been doing. All those angry, anonymous nights hung heavy on his conscience.
But the Muggle paper he'd picked up flashed its headline from the table, the black letters of the headline shriveling his soul. Sirius Black had never been afraid of anything before, but he was afraid of this.
He was still sitting at the kitchen table when Peter Flooed in, tentative and unsure. "You sent me an owl, Sirius?"
Sirius sighed and pushed the paper over. "Have you seen this before?"
Peter's mouth moved as he read over the words. "No. Blimey, scary stuff. But why are you reading the Muggle papers?"
"By accident," Sirius admitted. "I found that one while I was… waiting for someone."
"Oh. What were you doing waiting for someone in public?"
"Don't worry about that," Sirius began sharply, and then sighed. "I'm sorry. This isn't easy for me to say."
It was a confession Peter had never heard from Sirius, and he treated it as such, sitting down slowly. "Sirius? What is it?"
Sirius bit his lip, and then plunged ahead. "I'm gay," he told Peter, because there was no point in a prelude. Peter's eyes widened, but he still sat, knowing Sirius well enough to know that he still had more to say. "I'm gay, and I've been in love with Remus for years."
"Remus?" Peter asked. "I'd have thought-"
"I'm gay, not stupid and crazy about masochism," Sirius scowled. "Just because James is my best friend doesn't mean he's the only man I'd ever want in my life. Besides, that whole married thing?"
"Right. Sorry." Peter backpedaled quickly. "So…. What does Remus think about this?"
Sirius shrugged. "Enough that there's something to be going on. I didn't think so, but I found out otherwise last night."
Peter considered this. "Did you sleep together?" he asked, not able to completely hide a note of incredulous disgust in his voice. Sirius cringed.
"No. But I've slept with other people. Lots of other people."
"Who?"
Sirius looked away. "I don't know their names."
Peter was silent, and finally, Sirius dragged his gaze back. Peter's face was filled with shock and horror. "Don't you get all-"
"Oh, Sirius…" Peter said, his voice breaking.
Peter had always been smarter than Sirius had given him credit for.
Unexpectedly, his eyes filled with tears and a lump formed in his throat. "I haven't been tested yet," he said. "But if I want things to go further with Remus, I should. But I can't go alone."
"I'll go with you," Peter volunteered instantly. "But Sirius… if you knew this was risky, why did you do it at all?"
"Honestly?" Sirius looked Peter square in the eyes. "I never expected I'd be living this long."
Peter had the decency to flush.
***
In the Muggle world, tests would have taken weeks to come back. At St. Mungo's, they only had to wait an hour.
"I didn't think it would just be a blood test," Peter said as they sat together in the antechamber. He picked up a magazine from 1979. "Something that scary, it seems like it should be more."
"Look, can we not talk about it?" Sirius demanded.
"Sure." Peter flipped open the magazine.
A few minutes later he put his hand on Sirius's knee to stop the jiggling.
***
"Sirius Black?" The mediwitch was trying to maintain a neutral expression, but the desire not to be anywhere near him- or Peter- was clear in her eyes. From the way Peter cut off his denial that they were a couple, Sirius knew he wasn't imagining it. But he couldn't tell anything else. "Follow me."
All Sirius could hear was the blood thundering in his ears.
The witch handed him a sealed parchment. "Would you like me to be here when you open it?"
"No." Sirius didn't look at her, only at the roll. "I'm fine."
"Buzz when you're ready to discuss it."
And just by the way she said that, he knew what the results said. But when he opened it and saw the big black letters saying, "POSITIVE", the shock still shook him to his core.
He looked at Peter, shaking from head to toe. Peter was standing by the counter, hands wrapped around the Formica edge. But when their eyes met, he crossed the distance quickly and put his arms around Sirius.
"Padfoot…."
***
"Are you going to tell Remus?" Peter asked as they walked away, bareheaded in the summer rain.
"No," Sirius said. "Not yet. Maybe it won't come up again."
"Are you going to tell James?"
"Absolutely not. James has enough to worry about, with Voldemort after his family and living in hiding. He doesn't need to know this, too."
Peter nodded. "That makes sense. Don't worry. I can keep a secret."
They both froze. Finally, Sirius snorted. "Yeah. I'm beginning to remember that you can."
***
The house was quiet. Harry and Lily were both napping. James checked on them both before he hurried down to the basement.
"I shouldn't do this," he muttered, just like he did every time.
But he did it anyway.
***
"James. James!"
The voice was solid and real, and very, very angry. James tried to bring himself back to the real world, but the pull of his fuzzy haven was too strong.
"Potter, you prat!"
Someone smacked him.
He managed to focus his eyes long enough to see Lily, her face furious as she stood, hands on her hips. "James Potter, you'd better listen to me!"
"Listenin'," he mumbled.
"Just how long did you think you were going to get away with this?"
"Wha?"
Lily let out an inarticulate screech, stamping her foot. "Oh, just get your arse upstairs when you've come down!"
He wanted to retreat, to reclaim that beautiful floating feeling. But already the world was solidifying, and he was becoming solid and real again. It wasn't a good thing. He knew he was in trouble. He only hoped he could talk his way out of it. He took a deep breath and began to tackle the steps.
Lily was in the living room, throwing pillows onto the couch with a force that made James step back and nearly go tumbling down the steps. "What's wrong, honey?" he asked.
"What's wrong? What's wrong? I've been up here for four hours, waiting for you for dinner, dealing with Harry, putting him to bed, and you've been down in the basement imbibing God-only-knows-what, and you're asking me what's wrong?"
"I'm not… I didn't…"
Lily spun on her heel, and James had to grab the door jambs under the ferocity of her attack. "You did too! James, I created that potion. You think I don't know what it does?"
"You know?" he asked incredulously.
Lily snorted. "I've known for months, James. How stupid do you think I am?"
"You've never said anything," he said defensively.
"You've never fallen down this badly on your responsibilities."
That stung. "Well," James huffed. "I need some way of coping with this… this situation. I'm trapped in here and powerless and miserable, and-"
"What?" Lily screeched. "You're trapped? You're powerless? You're miserable? How do you think I feel? How do you think Harry feels? We're right here with you, and you can't be arsed to see that you're not the only one suffering!"
"I-"
Lily was in full ranting mode now. "You think that you're being oh-so-noble and hiding it, but you're not! You're being pathetic, and the only reason I've allowed you to continue this disgusting habit is because I understand! I feel like you do! I want out, too! But at least I remember Harry!"
"I never forgot Harry!" James shot back. "So one night, one night I didn't help you put him to bed. What's the big deal?"
"The big deal is this!" Lily shouted, brandishing a small blue bowl.
James regarded it with confusion. "It's a bowl. My cauldron was dirty and besides, it's not like I make that much. I was going to wash it and put it away. What-"
"It's not just a bowl," Lily fumed.
"Priceless family heirloom?"
"WE PUT HARRY'S CHEERI-OWLS IN IT!" Lily roared.
James's mouth sagged open.
"Well? What do you have to say for yourself? How in the world do you defend this?"
"I… uh… Well…."
"I put up with this as long as I could, James. I can take you disappearing for hours. I can take what you're doing to your body, because only an idiot would keep taking a potion that contains powdered doxy stings. I can take how you've completely shut me out. But I will not tolerate you putting Harry in danger. I want you to leave."
"Oh, Lily, come on." James took a few steps forward and tried to embrace his wife, but she pushed him away furiously. "Lily, you can't be serious. Voldemort is looking for us."
"No. Voldemort is looking for Harry, for some God awful reason. Not you. You have ten minutes to pack your things and get out of here."
The look on her face said she was serious. Any residual high ebbed out of him, leaving James cold and flat. "Lily, come on. We can work through this. We love each other."
Lily shook her head. "The man I was in love with never would have endangered his own child like that. Get out, James, and don't come back."
***
"It's just a tiff," James told Dumbledore breezily, even though he didn't believe it any more than the old man did. "But I'll humor her. She'll want me to come back in a week, two at the most, but she needs time to cool off. You know women."
"Some might say the fairer sex is a misnomer," Dumbledore said, with a smile that didn't extend to his eyes. "This will require some rearrangements."
"Rearrangements?" James asked. "It's really pretty simple. I know I can stay with Sirius. Lily and Harry will stay at Godric's Hallow."
Dumbledore sighed. "They can't. It's not that easy, James."
"Why not? They're still protected. I can't tell anyone where they are."
"You just told me."
"But you already know! And if I tried to tell someone else, I wouldn't be able to!"
"But you can find your way there. And I do not trust you at this point to take the proper precautions before visiting."
James pulled himself up. "You don't trust me?"
Dumbledore looked sad. "No, James. I don't."
***
"Can you believe it?" James demanded, tossing his bag onto Sirius's couch. "He doesn't trust me!"
"Dumbledore doesn't trust anyone," Sirius said. He bit his lip, wondering how he was going to get the medical potions he'd been taking off the bathroom counter without James noticing.
He didn't need to worry. James flopped on the couch next to his bag and crossed his arms. "Still. It's my own wife and kid. I'm not going to turn them over to Voldemort."
Sirius took a deep breath. "That's not what he's worried about, James." James glared at him over the top of his glasses, and Sirius continued. "He's worried about you being so hopped up on something that you won't notice someone tracking you."
James pressed his lips together. "That would never happen, and you know it, Padfoot."
Sirius bit his tongue, and an awkward silence descended on the flat.
"So," Sirius said, when it became unbearable. "I assume Dumbledore is the new Secret Keeper?"
"No," James spat. "Snivellus is."
"WHAT? That dirty, filthy, greasy bastard… you know he's always had a thing for Lily, right?"
James rolled his eyes. "Like he ever had a chance. But that's what Dumbledore thinks will make him keep the secret. He loves Lily. And he won't tell me. You or Remus or Peter would."
Sirius thought about that. He hated Snape with a passion that exceeded most other passions, but an unexpected pang of sympathy welled up. Dumbledore was one manipulative bastard. He said as much, but James just shrugged.
"Listen, Sirius. While I'm here… do you mind if I mix the stuff occasionally? It's not like Lily says, but with everything that's happening… well, sometimes you need a distraction."
Sirius hated the idea with every fiber of his being. But he had to nod yes. After all, how could he deny James his secret when he was keeping one that was so much worse?
***
"How are you feeling?" Peter asked Sirius quietly, while James and Remus were debating which bottle to open next.
Sirius shrugged. "Completely normal," he lied. "They tell me that will change eventually, but no one knows when."
Peter shifted awkwardly, but perversely, Sirius found he appreciated that he was making the effort. Remus was rarely around, and James was so wrapped up in whatever he was throwing down his throat and thoughts of Lily's "unfairness" that he hadn't noticed anything was amiss.
James had been living with him for a month. Sirius had thought he'd never get tired of his best friend… he was starting to think he might be wrong.
"Sirius?" Peter began tentatively. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure, you can ask."
"Are we friends again?"
The question really took him by surprise. He thought of everything Peter had done, and everything he hadn't. "I don't know," he said finally.
Peter smiled. "Well, that's progress anyway."
***
It took more effort than leaving used to, but eventually Peter and Remus made their ways home, under the cover of spells and protective charms. Sirius sat back, utterly exhausted. He'd lied to Peter, but the nausea, exhaustion, and night sweats were flu-like enough that he really didn't want to say more. Besides, the healer at St. Mungo's said that part would go away soon enough.
Besides, there were other things on his mind.
"Prongs?" he asked. "Did you notice anything different about Moony?"
James shrugged, feet up on the table. His eyes were glassy, and Sirius suspected that he'd made a little trip into the bathroom. But he seemed astute enough as he cocked his head to one side. "He did seem kind of skinny."
"Far too thin," Sirius agreed. "And he didn't touch the curry."
They both looked at the styrofoam take-out boxes. "He doesn't have work," James finally said. "And he does have pride."
"Don't know. Seems like there's more to it."
"Well," James sighed, wiggling deeper into the couch. "You should ask him. You're the one in love with him, not me."
"Yeah." Sirius closed his eyes, and once again relived that night in his head.
"What?" James said, just when things were getting good. Sirius cracked open one eye to see James studying him intently. "Oh, no. You two didn't."
"No, we didn't."
"But you…"
"Yeah. There's something. But with everything that's happening these days, we just decided it's not a good idea to rush."
Sirius waited on tetherhooks for James to ask him to elaborate. But either he hadn't been mysterious enough, or James didn't pick up on the hint, because he didn't follow it. Instead, he said, "I'm glad."
"Glad?"
"Yeah, well. Look, I love you, Padfoot-"
Definitely on something, Sirius thought.
"-But you and Remus together… the idea is pretty weird to me."
Sirius's eyes narrowed. "Oh, is it?"
James's head lolled to the side. Sirius knew that he shouldn't be listening to a word James was saying now, but when James said, "Yeah, it really is. I mean, I just didn't expect it of you. It's okay, you know. But Remus is a werewolf."
"And that never stopped us from being friends with him."
"Yeah, but it's part of what made us think he could be the spy."
Sirius couldn't really defend that.
"See, the way I see it, there's always a line you're not willing to cross, even if you say you're okay with something," James continued. "I mean, if I'd known you were a poof when Harry was born, I might not have asked you to be godfather."
Sirius began to tremble, and his stomach turned over. He barely made it to the bathroom in time.
***
When James woke up the next morning, the living room was still in shambles and stunk of stale liquor and turned curry. He groaned and scrubbed at his face.
"I should have learned by now not to mix it with alcohol," he mumbled, head throbbing.
He struggled to his feet and to the bathroom for some hangover cure. There was only a dose of the cure left. James shook his head. Sirius must have really hit the booze hard last night. Surely he wasn't needing that much. He swilled some down and stepped through the shower.
It was still quiet in the flat when he came out. Far too quiet- Sirius was an early riser, especially after drinking heavily. Hoping he was alone, James opened the door to Sirius's room.
Sirius was in bed, huddled under the covers, shivering with fever.
"Merlin!" James flew to the bedside. "Sirius, what's wrong?" He felt his forehead and snatched his hand away. "You're burning up!"
"'Sokay," Sirius said through chattering teeth. "Just get me that jar. The one on my dresser. 'Blue."
There was no label, but Sirius nodded when James put his hand on it. He handed it over. Sirius struggled to sit and then sipped it, making a hideous face at the taste.
"Sirius," James pleaded. "Tell me what's wrong. Please."
Sirius put the stopper back in the bottle. "It's just a flu," he said, and already color was returning to his face. "It will go away in a few days."
"Maybe we should get you to St. Mungo's."
"No!" Sirius jerked upright, groaned, and then fell back. "No. Too dangerous."
"St. Mungo's is still all right."
Sirius shook his head. "If it was something else, maybe. But they're just going to tell me to take this stuff and get some rest. No sense risking our lives for something we already know."
James looked down at the bottle again. Now that he thought about it, that sort of cure wasn't something people kept around. And Sirius spoke with way too much assurance. It began to dawn on him that something else was going on. But as he looked at Sirius's pale, drawn face, he knew he wasn't going to find out exactly what it was.
"I need to sleep," Sirius said, turning away and pulling the covers up over his shoulders.
"Yeah. Sure." James looked around the room. Sirius had always been a fairly neat person, but James noticed several books and papers near the bed, as well as a bowl and a couple of glasses. It was as if Sirius had been spending a lot of time in bed recently.
The potion must have contained some ingredient to help sleep, because Sirius began to snore softly. James hesitated, and then continued to look around.
There were a few other jars without labels, and a stack of papers that were enchanted to look like an old Quidditch magazine. James could tell they were enchanted because Sirius had probably-on-purpose misspelled Quidditch, which meant he wanted to make sure it wasn't thrown out. James tried for a couple of minutes to get the real papers to reveal, but Sirius obviously didn't want their contents known. He set them aside gently. There were also framed pictures. A picture of the two of them together, his and Lily's wedding picture, a picture of Harry, a picture of Remus alone, and the same picture of the four of them that James had near his workbench at home.
Home. James picked up the wedding picture, looking at Lily's beautiful, radiant face, and sighed. From the frame on the dresser, Harry giggled silently and wiggled, holding his arms out to him. He missed them both so badly, and loved them both so much, and he had no idea where they were. How could things have possibly gotten this bad?
***
The full moon was over, but Remus had to wait for two days before returning to his bedsit. It was becoming harder and harder to explain why he chose to remain in the Wizarding world, and his excuses of indoor plumbing and soft mattresses were wearing thin. Finally, he returned home to find the place stuffy and humid and a note on the table from Sirius.
Floo me when you come back. I need to talk to you.
Remus only hesitated for a moment, and then Flooed Sirius. Then Sirius was there, warm and real and not only in Remus's imagination as he'd been for the past two days.
"You look terrible," Sirius said, staring at him.
"Thanks. One might say the same of you." Sirius wasn't wasting away, but something about his stance gave that impression, as did the heavy shadows under his eyes. "I still need to shower."
"Go ahead. I'll come in and talk at you through the curtain."
Remus shrugged. To be honest, it was nice, sort of like being back in Gryffindor tower when they'd all shared a room… and their lives. He stepped into the shower, turned it on as hot as he could stand it, and pulled the cheap vinyl curtain closed. "What's going on?" he asked over the rushing water.
"A lot," Sirius said. "Where have you been?"
"Hogwarts, most recently. Places that weren't nearly as comfortable before that. Why? Is it Peter?"
"No, actually. Wormtail's been good."
"Figures." Remus picked up the soap and grimaced as he looked down at his own torso. It was ridiculous to think that anything that might have developed was going anywhere now. "You know, I'm beginning to believe that's not going to change. Dumbledore was right."
Sirius grumbled something, but the fact it was jumbled indicated his agreement, if not complete forgiveness. Not that Remus could blame him- he wasn't exactly forgiving Peter, either. "So, James then?"
"Yeah."
"That shit he's been taking?"
"Well, yeah, but we've been over that. Something that he said a few days ago."
"What is it?" There was silence, and Remus popped his head out from behind the curtain. "Padfoot?"
Sirius was staring at his hands. "He said… he said he didn't know that I was gay when Harry was born, and if he had known, he might not have asked me to be Harry's godfather."
The coldness of that statement didn't sound like James at all. Remus narrowed his eyes. "Was he drunk or high when he said this?"
"Both," Sirius admitted. "It was the last time you and Peter were over."
Remus scrubbed his hair and thought about it. "He really didn't know before Harry was born? You didn't tell him?"
"Didn't want to believe it myself."
"What's he said since?"
"Nothing. In fact, it's almost like he doesn't remember it. And I was sick for a few days after, and he was there doing everything he could for me."
Remus shut off the water. "Sounds like it was the drugs talking."
Sirius snorted. "Placebo. I thought of that, but why would he say it if on some level he didn't mean it?"
"I'm sure there's discomfort on some level," Remus admitted. He stepped out and swathed a towel around his hips. "But a real friend can ignore their discomfort. Which is what he does. He still lets Harry be around you. Well, he did."
Sirius shook his head. "I guess." He looked up at Remus, and Remus wanted to shrink away, or at least hide further behind the towel. He hadn't eaten more than a few bites at a time ever since… ever since.
"Don't start, Sirius."
"Wasn't going to," Sirius clearly lied.
Remus didn't argue the point. Instead, he brushed past Sirius to root through his drawer for a clean robe. "Have you talked about it?"
"Nah. I'm not sure I want the real answer." Sirius sighed and sat down on Remus's bed, which also served as the couch. "It's been strange, though."
"Everything's been strange these days." Remus sat down next to Sirius. The warmth of his body against his was nice, after the lonely and soul-chilling week it had been. "When was the last time we saw anyone outside the Order? Or got out just for a day?"
Sirius shook his head, and Remus sighed at the exhaustion on his face. They were all tired. Tired of thinking about it, tired of being scared, tired of hiding, tired of having to hole up in flats and houses protected by spells, or other hiding places, tired of hiding from each other.
Sirius's hand was against his, and his pinky draped over Remus's own. Remus's heart caught in his chest, but he tried to keep casual. "Remember that time we went into Hogsmeade and snuck into the Hog's Head?"
Sirius chuckled, the vibration low and entering Remus's body. "You'll have to be more specific than that." His pinky began to move, brushing over the back of Remus's hand.
"It was sixth year. Winter. We were teasing Peter about Lydia and James was singing that ridiculous song at the top of his lungs." Remus turned his hand over slowly, so Sirius's fingers were tracing his palm.
Now there was no doubt about anything as Sirius laced his fingers through Remus's. Remus drew his breath in at the touch, an electric thrill running through him. He squeezed gently, and Sirius squeezed back. "You had your first shot of whiskey," Sirius said, his voice low and gravelly. "I remember."
"First shot? I had my first bottle. You probably remember better than I do."
"We had to drag you home."
"By the ankles, I remember. You could have used a spell. Or something with a little more dignity." Remus turned to face Sirius, laughing. Their eyes locked, and Remus leaned into him. "But no."
"Well, you deserved it, finishing it all like that." Sirius was studying Remus's mouth.
He saw the black line of Sirius's lashes flutter shut, and knew it was coming. He leaned in, closing his own eyes. When Sirius's lips touched his, he sighed and leaned into the kiss.
He'd wanted this for years, and never quite believed it would happen. Even now, as their kiss deepened and Sirius reached up to cup his cheek, it seemed unreal. Remus lost himself in it, especially as Sirius pushed him back onto the bed.
Sirius was shaking. Remus could feel it, but then, he was shaking, too. This had been too long in coming. He broke the kiss and mouthed Sirius's throat, tasting the skin.
Tasting the skin.
The revulsion crashed over him like a tsunami, and he had to push Sirius off him and sprint for the bathroom. He hadn't realized there was anything in his stomach to bring up, but apparently there was. When he finished, he sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth with his hand.
This couldn't continue. Not like this.
He took a deep breath and rinsed his mouth, then left the bathroom to see Sirius sitting on the bed, his head buried between his hands.
"We need to talk."
"Understatement." Sirius looked up, his face drawn and white. "I think it's safe to assume the thought of sex with me wasn't revolting you enough to send you running to puke."
Short-lived relief flooded him. "You understand that?"
"Of course, dingbat." Sirius smiled briefly, but the smile drained right off. "But there's a lot we need to say. You first, or me?"
"Me. If I don't say it…" Remus bit his lip. "I won't."
"Fair enough." Sirius sat back against the wall and pulled his knees up to his chest. "What's eating you?"
Remus cringed at the unintentional pun. The bile began to rise, and he almost lost his nerve yet again. But he looked at Sirius, and saw not only someone he loved, but the friend who had given him courage time and time again through the years. "I'm going to break a lot of rules," he began slowly. "Just so you know. But… but." He looked down. "Where I've been all those times… all those times I'm not here. All those times I couldn't say. I've been spying for Dumbledore."
Sirius groaned.
"What?"
"Just… why did that possibility never even occur to James and me?"
"Oh. Sirius, don't dwell on it, not right now. Please. That's past."
"Who does he have you spying on?"
Remus swallowed hard. "Voldemort has been recruiting Dark Creatures to help him. You know that. So-"
"Werewolves."
"Right, but let me tell it, please." Sirius nodded. "There's a group… a pack of werewolves living in Northern England. They don't mingle with society much. But the worst of it is they accept what they are. No. They enjoy being what they are. And Voldemort is using that. They aren't Death Eaters, but tools of the Death Eaters. And so that's where I've been going every month, and sometimes more.
"You can't imagine it, Sirius. You don't want to imagine it. But that's not the worst of it. The leader… the leader is a werewolf named Fenrir Greyback. I never wanted to tell you about him, because, well, he's the one that bit me." Remus had to look away at this point. "I can't talk about that, not because Dumbledore didn't tell me to, but because I can't. Not if I want to tell you the rest.
"I have to be with them at the full moon. That's why I can't have you and James and Peter around when I transform. It's too dangerous for all of us. But there's a price… and I've had to pay it."
"You mean…" Sirius whispered.
Remus closed his eyes. "I killed someone."
Silence echoed through the room, heavy and oppressive and closing over his head like quicksand. Remus couldn't bear to turn around to see Sirius's face.
And when he did, it was just as bad as he imagined.
***
On to Part 2
Team: team Post Hogwarts
Title: The Line In the Sand
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: I'm mean. Also, AU.
Summary: Everyone does things they know they shouldn't. Sometimes, they even regret them. When Peter confessed to Sirius that he was a Death Eater, the world changed.
Prompt: "The friend is the man who knows all about you, and still likes you."
Genre(s): AU, angst
"YOU DID WHAT?" Sirius roared.
Peter faced him, white-faced and clenching the table instead of his wand, tense with grim determination. "I've been working for the Dark- Voldemort," he said, trying to keep his voice from breaking and failing miserably. "For a year."
Sirius punched him. Peter had been expecting it and rolled with it, crashing out of the chair and landing on the floor in an undignified heap, blood gushing from his nose. He rolled over and held his hands up before Sirius could strike him again. "Wait!"
"Why should I?"
"Because I can tell you more! A lot more! And you need to hear it!" Sirius paused. "It's about James," Peter panted. "Please, Sirius. At least hear me out."
Peter could see Sirius's mind racing, examining each possibility and path of logic at breakneck speed. "All right," he finally said, grudgingly. "But you'd better make it good."
Peter swallowed and tried to stymie the flow of blood from his nose. He had one chance, and that was it.
"There's a lot that I need to tell you- to tell Dumbledore," he began, feeling his way cautiously. "Like I said, I've been a Death Eater for a year. I know names, I know plans, I know… I know things. But what I know now is that Voldemort wants Harry dead, and he'll kill James and Lily to make sure that happens."
Sirius nodded, and the abruptly the color drained from his face. He raised his wand.
"Padfoot, I'm sorry! I know what I did, and what I was going to do. But please… please," Peter begged, getting up to his knees. "Please believe me. I couldn't betray James and Lily."
"But you intended to. You're even their Secret Keeper, for Merlin's sake!" Sirius shouted. He raised his wand again.
"But I couldn't," Peter whispered. Sirius hesitated, but oddly, Peter felt something like peace now. Because no matter what, he was a dead man. Sirius would kill him or Voldemort would kill him.
But Sirius grabbed Peter's wand, and then grabbed his arm, twisting it painfully as he hauled Peter to his feet. "Tell me where they are, you worthless piece of shit," he growled. "Or you're going to wish I'd killed you."
***
Lily was crying. Peter had seen it before, but he'd never been the one to make her cry. Sirius was still gripping his arm, and James was sitting at the kitchen table, white and still and looking helpless.
"Well, James?" Sirius growled.
"Let me think for a moment," James whispered.
"What's there to think about? He betrayed us. He betrayed you. He's a fucking Death Eater! And Harry-" Lily started crying harder, and Sirius gave her a haunted, harried glance before turning back to James. "He. Betrayed. You," he said, each word deliberate. "The only reason I didn't kill him myself is because I knew you had to hear it from the bastard."
"We thought it was Remus," James whispered.
"Remus was never involved with the Death Eaters," Peter admitted quietly. But both Sirius and James ignored him.
"Should we?" Sirius asked.
James was silent for a long time. Peter saw him look at Lily, as if he was weighing what the action would do in her eyes. Then he abruptly stood up and left the room, heading down the hall towards Harry's nursery.
The clock ticked loudly.
Finally, James returned, hollow-eyed and pale. "Let's take him to Dumbledore," he said simply.
There was an audible sigh of relief.
***
The clock struck 3:17 in the morning. Anyone who would have thought it would strike on the hour didn't know Dumbledore well. James glanced at the clock automatically, Peter started at the sound, and Sirius ignored it.
The second hand continued to tick audibly.
"I see," Dumbledore finally said.
"I still think we should kill him," Sirius muttered.
James looked at Dumbledore questioningly.
"A bit harsh, I would think," Dumbledore said, looking at Peter from under bushy brows. "True repentance is rare enough that, when encountered, it should not be treated lightly."
"How do you know he's really repentant?" Sirius demanded. "How do you know he's not faking it to save his own arse?"
"Because confession to the very people you've conspired to betray requires the bravery of conviction," Dumbledore answered. "If Mr. Pettigrew wished to simply save himself, he would have come to me, first."
Sirius deflated, slumping in his chair and crossing his arms. "Fine," he muttered. "Send him to Azkaban then."
"That we cannot do, either."
"Why not?"
"The Fidelius Charm is still in effect. If we were to send Mr. Pettigrew to Azkaban, particularly with such regret and remorse already, he would surely go mad very shortly. And what he would reveal when not in possession of his own mind is frightening to think about."
Sirius opened his mouth to retort, and then shut it again, defeated.
Dumbledore turned to James. "You've been very quiet, James."
James shrugged. "It's not an easy thing to absorb."
"And what I am going to say will not be easy, either. You all must go on exactly as you were before."
"WHAT?" Sirius sat bolt upright. "You mean-"
"I mean exactly that."
"-with that cowardly, worthless, piece of shit-" Sirius continued. Dumbledore raised his voice.
"Voldemort is intelligent enough to watch certain dynamics. If you shun Peter now, he will surely know what has happened. And there will be a price to pay."
"-lummox with mush for brains- let him fucking pay- "
"Sirius, this might be easier if you would stop talking," Dumbledore admonished. Sirius ignored him, until James snapped out of it long enough to lay a hand on Sirius's arm. "Thank you," Dumbledore continued. "Voldemort would not just kill Peter. He would torture him." Sirius opened his mouth, and Dumbledore opened his hand. "A secret contained by the Fidelius Charm can not be gained involuntarily. But Voldemort has tortures that would make Peter want to tell him everything he knows. Everything must continue as it is. Harry's life, as well as your own lives, depends on it."
***
"I don't like it," Sirius said bluntly to James as they tumbled out of the Potter's fireplace. "We should have just killed him."
James shrugged, but there was no fire it. Instead, he collapsed into an armchair and stared at the fireplace as if he could see Peter still in Dumbledore's office. Sirius stood impatiently, but James couldn't bring himself to rant about it.
"Remus," he heard himself saying finally. "We need to tell Remus."
He shifted his gaze from fireplace to best friend in time to see Sirius sit down on the floor heavily.
"Shit. You're right. And all this time we thought-"
"No, we didn't think that. We just believed it because we had nothing more plausible. We always thought it was wrong." James shook his head. "I can't believe we were so wrong."
"I'll tell him," Sirius said.
"How much?"
Sirius shook his head. "I'll have to tell him everything. He'll figure it out anyway, and hate me even more for lying."
"He should hate all three of us. Lily and I didn't trust him, either."
"Yes," Sirius sighed, "but you're not the one that's in love with him."
***
Sirius sat at Remus's rickety table, hands clenched together so hard his fingers were leaving indentations in the skin. Remus was sitting across from him, his face neutral. Only the way his fingers twisted in the material of his robe gave away his feelings, and only someone who knew him as well as Sirius, James, or Peter did would know that.
"Peter," Remus finally said in a tight voice.
"Peter. Peter betrayed us."
"Peter was Secret Keeper," Remus said softly.
"Yes." There was such a spasm of pain on Remus's face that Sirius knew he'd worked it out. "I'm sorry," he said.
"I guess I should have expected it."
"It wasn't like that. We didn't have a better explanation, so we-"
"We assumed that because Remus is a werewolf and Voldemort is recruiting werewolves and offering them rights, and oh, because Remus has been off on top-secret work that he won't talk about, even though you wankers can't talk about yours either, that yes. He's a Death Eater. Despite the fact I'm a fucking half-blood."
"Remus, I-"
Remus waved his hand dismissively. "It will be all right. I suppose I would have thought the same thing."
That spurred Sirius. "What did you think?"
"That it was Peter."
"You knew?" Sirius demanded, half-rising to his feet.
"Sirius, sit down. No, I did not. If I did, I would have said something. But I just thought… never mind."
Sirius opened his mouth to argue, and then closed it again. Remus had his hands folded together and was staring out the window, a faraway expression on his face. He seemed distant and cold.
"So where does that leave us?" Sirius asked.
"Right where we've been, I guess," Remus sighed. "All of us thinking one of us is a traitor. Only now, we know it for sure."
***
The November wind whipped around Sirius's bare ears as he left the poky little bedsit that Remus lived in. He shoved his hands deeper into his cloak pockets and walked briskly, the dead leaves swirling around his feet. They were dry and brown and crackly, just like everything else.
He hadn't asked to fall in love with Remus. In fact, it had been the last thing he wanted, aside from falling in love with James. James, Remus, and Peter (he clenched his jaw so tightly the tendons strained) were more than just his friends; they were his family. The last thing Sirius wanted was for that to fall apart.
Of course, it had anyway.
A year ago, James had asked him what he intended to do about his crush on Remus. Sirius had never actually told James that, but James knew him better than he knew himself. He'd merely looked at James and said, "Nothing."
He hadn't imagined James's relief.
Aside from the whole complication of being in love with one of his best friends and said friend being a werewolf, Sirius had no desire to be gay, or to deal with any of the problems that came with it. He might be a social crusader, but the matter of Muggleborns and half-bloods not being murdered took up so much energy that whom he chose to sleep with was rendered irrelevant. He'd always believed sex and love were over-rated (look where it got his parents, after all), and a life without either was still filled with other wonderful things.
Of course, James was convinced he was just saving it for Remus. Sometimes, James was a bigger ponce than he was.
But he wasn't saving it. Sirius had done his research, and he knew the park where he could go. It was in the Muggle world, but that was really for the best. He'd been twice, but never dared to make that all-important eye contact with anyone. Tonight, he would.
He Transfigured his robes and cloak into jeans and a leather jacket, and then silently joined the ranks of men pacing the stretch of pavement. His hands twisted in his pockets as he strode along, face forward and tilted down, muscles taut with nerves. That one was too muscular, that one was too hairy, that one reminded him a little too much of Professor Slughorn…
Don't be so picky, he told himself harshly. That's not what we're here for.
He made eye contact with the very next man. He was medium height and build, with white-blond hair, a high forehead, and a nose that was too big for his face. His heart froze as their gazes locked, and then the man tilted his head to one side.
Sirius followed.
He knew what to expect, in an academic sort of way. He'd imagined this before. But he hadn't thought about the rough tree bark under his hands, or the callused hands on his hips. He'd known there would be pain, but he hadn't imagined a beer-scented voice hissing, "Relax, for fuck's sake" in his ear, and he'd never really believed there'd be blood on his underwear when he got home. But he did it, went through with it, came, and told himself he enjoyed it, damn it.
He was surprised how empty he felt, later that night as he lay in his bed alone. Empty and hollow and lost, and the unspoken confession that it had been the wrong person, the wrong place, and the wrong time.
James always did know him better than he knew himself.
***
The picture winked at him.
In reality, it wasn't the picture itself, but the picture version of him. James had stuck the photograph to his workbench with a Permanent Sticking Charm, because he couldn't conceive of a world where he would want to take it down. It had been taken shortly before they left Hogwarts. He and Sirius were standing in the middle, posing absurdly, while Remus and Peter made faces in the background.
He'd tried covering it up, but nothing really worked. Maybe because he didn't want to cover it up. What James wanted was for everything to go back to normal.
They'd been in this house for three months now. Three months with only Peter, Sirius, Remus, and Dumbledore as their connection to the outside world. Three months seeing the same walls, the same furniture, the same space. Three months of both him and Lily trying to cope, both frazzled and afraid, and at the same time bored out of their bloody minds and coping with a frustrated toddler. They began to fight- short, angry quarrels that sprang up out of nothing.
It was after one such quarrel that James stormed to the tiny basement, desperate for a few minutes to himself that wouldn't provide what he really needed. Instead of escaping, he found himself more confined in tighter walls, staring at that blasted picture.
He had taken to meddling with potions during their confinement. He'd found Lily's old Potions notes, and several experimental draughts that she'd toyed with. There was one from her third year… one she and Snivellus had come up with together (James spat at that thought) that he'd tried early on. The effects hadn't been quite what he'd expected, and Lily had made a notation that this one had earned her a very severe letter from the Department of Improper Use of Magic. James could see why, because nothing that good could be legal.
He'd doctored it up a bit, reducing the aftereffects and intensifying the hallucinogenic elements. The resultant sludge was bitter, but that could easily be forgotten when his mind was lazily floating on psychedelic clouds.
It was so easy to forget everything.
He came down an hour later, exhausted and drained, but a warm feeling still in his gut. James looked at the picture one more time and sighed.
Then he headed up the stairs, and back to the real life he was powerless to change.
***
The night before the full moon, Sirius stopped over at Remus's bedsit.
"You know we can join you," he offered as he prowled around, picking up the books that Remus owned and glancing over the back covers.
Remus regarded him warily. "You all haven't joined me in almost a year."
"Hey! You've said-"
"Padfoot," Remus said, and Sirius's heart soared at the use of the old nickname. "I'm not accusing you of anything. I know I told you to stay away."
"I know," Sirius said. "But that was a year ago. I wondered… I wondered if things had changed."
Remus heaved a sigh that seemed to come from his toes. "No. They haven't."
***
The pack. Remus hated that term with a passion. He focused on that as he made his way through the forest, the snow freezing through the thin soles of his shoes.
More than anything he'd wanted to tell Sirius to come with him tonight. But he couldn't. Because the comfort brought would be short-lived in the face of the shame that would soon follow.
Sirius couldn't know about Fenrir Greyback. Not ever.
He huffed, his breath coming out in a puff of fog in the cold February air. One day, this would all be over, for better or for worse. And then Sirius, James, and Peter would have to know, unless he could live with hiding it forever. Hiding that he too, was a traitor. At least in a sense.
Oh, he knew he was a double agent. A spy. One of the good guys. But to play the role convincingly, certain sacrifices had to be made. And that meant being friendly with the man who'd bitten him when he was a child, groveling to the very being that had ruined his life.
He took another deep breath. Don't be so melodramatic, he told himself. It's not that bad.
"Right," he said out loud. "Let's go."
***
He was used to pain and soreness the next morning, like a hangover intensified by twenty. And running with Fenrir's pa… group, he never had to worry about preying on himself. But this morning, he woke in a place he didn't recognize with a heavy feeling in his gut and a ferric aftertaste in his mouth. His torn robes were icy and molded to his body.
Why wasn't he with the others? Remus pulled himself to sitting, groaning as he tried to flex his fingers. He'd have to get home soon, especially once he noticed the gray patches on his skin. Frostbite.
He saw the red from the corner of his eye.
At first, he'd thought the blood was his. That the ice had cut his skin, or perhaps he'd done damage to himself again. But then he looked, and when he did, he had to turn away and vomit, because the corpse across the clearing was mauled, with intestines spilling out of his open torso.
From what Remus could tell, it was a middle-aged man. His face was torn open, and his limbs were mutilated as well, as if they'd been-
The penny dropped, and Remus began to tremble violently. He started to heave again, until there was nothing left in his stomach and he was collapsed in a heap, his cheek against the filthy snow and curled into a fetal position.
He'd done what he swore he'd never do. Deep inside him, his soul howled.
***
Somehow or other, he got himself home and collapsed naked under the covers, shivering despite the warmth of the down quilt the others had given him for his birthday two years ago. He had finally drifted off into a nightmare-laced sleep when the fireplace glowed green.
"Remus?"
Sirius and Peter. Remus shivered, pulling the quilt tightly around his ears. "Go away."
Peter cleared his throat. "We brought you some soup," he said hopefully.
The smell of it turned his stomach. Remus closed his eyes and choked down the bile threatening to rise. "I'll get it later. I'm not hungry right now." Maybe if he stayed under here, they'd go away.
"Come on, Remus. You need to eat. I'll dish you out some."
He heard Peter rattling around in his cupboards. It set his teeth on edge, but it was better than Sirius, who came over and pulled the blanket away. Remus grabbed it back, but not before Sirius got a glimpse.
"Merlin, Remus, you look terrible!"
"Thanks for the newscast," Remus scowled. He looked up at Sirius, who was watching him with the same pleading eyes he'd had ever since he'd told Remus they suspected him. Over in the kitchen area, Peter was filling a glass.
Remus was tired of being begged for forgiveness. Especially now.
He sighed and tossed the blanket back. "Fine," he muttered. "Whatever."
But when he got to the table, he couldn't bear to eat.
***
"Harder," Sirius gasped, twisting his fingers in the anonymous sheets of a dingy motel.
His partner responded, driving deep. Sirius closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the mattress, inhaling the scent of cheap detergent. "Come on," he growled. "Harder."
His partner hesitated. "Any harder and you won't be able to walk tomorrow."
"I don't care." The noisy air conditioner hiccuped.
"Hey. I wasn't looking for-"
"I don't care!" Sirius ground out. "Just fucking do it!" He pushed his hips back, hard. "Come on. You want to." He knew it was true- he'd seen it on the man's face. That was why he'd picked him.
A hand landed on his shoulder. Sirius bit it, and the man yelped and pulled back, and then grabbed a handful of his hair and twisted. He began thrusting again, this time hard enough to hurt. It didn't feel good, but it was what he wanted. Sirius began to twist away, and his partner pulled out and grabbed his shoulders, flipping him and pinning him beneath his weight.
He was a big man, bigger than Sirius was used to, with a physique that had gone to seed and rough stubble. Sirius raised his chin in challenge, spitting in his face. The man hesitated for only a second, and then backhanded him hard enough across the face that Sirius tasted blood. He pushed his legs up and entered again. The lube was drying up, but Sirius didn't care. On the contrary, he reveled in it.
Afterwards, his partner looked at him with concern, touching Sirius's throbbing cheek with gentle fingers. "You might want to put some ice on that, or you'll have some questions you don't want to answer tomorrow."
"Doesn't matter," Sirius stubbornly insisted. "Thanks."
The man shrugged, and began pulling on his clothes. "Thanks to you, too." He slipped Sirius a few notes. "For the room. You got it?"
"Yeah." Sirius looked away.
The man regarded him warily, pulling on his shoes. "You're not normally a kinky bastard, are you?" Sirius merely shrugged, and the man sighed. "Well, I hope it gets better for you then, whatever you did this for." And with that, he was gone.
Sirius sat on the bed, staring at the door. Then he shook himself, healed his face, and began to get dressed. He had less than fifteen minutes before he was expected at James's.
***
"They got Kingsley Shacklebolt today," Sirius said without preamble when he walked into the Potters' house.
"Well, thank you, Mr. Sunshine," Lily said crossly. She detached Harry from her leg and came over to examine the groceries that Sirius had brought in. "Couldn't you at least say hello first?"
"Sorry," Sirius muttered. "Where's your lout of a husband?"
"In the basement," Lily said. "Would you mind going down and hauling his you-know-what up the stairs before Peter and Remus get here?"
"Yeah. No problem." Sirius touched her gently on the shoulder as he passed by, in way of mute apology. Lily caught his glance and smiled grimly.
The stairs presented a bit of an issue. For once, he felt a bit sheepish about that. "Oi! Prongs!" he called out.
James didn't answer.
"Prat. James!"
Sirius finally landed on the floor. The basement was dark, except for a small flame. He could see the shadow of James sitting in an old beat-up armchair. He walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. James jumped and yelped something incoherent.
"Hey," Sirius said, hands up defensively. "It's just me." He pulled out his wand. "Lumos." In the bright light of his wand, James looked disheveled, pale, and disoriented. "Sorry. Did I wake you?"
"Huh?" James looked quickly at his work space, and then took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah. Guess I fell asleep. What time is it?"
"Nearly six."
James shook his head again. "I came down here… never mind. Come on. Lily's gonna kill me." He led the way up the stairs.
In the daylight, James looked even worse. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was clammy. "You okay?" Sirius asked.
James started. "What? Oh, yeah. 'Sfine. Hey there, buddy!" he said as Harry came hurtling towards him, laughing.
"Daddy!"
James seemed to perk up as he leaned down to pick his son up. "Are the others here yet?"
"No," Harry said, even though Sirius could hear voices in the next room.
"Silly," James laughed, tweaking Harry's nose. "Well, let's go see if Mummy's going to kill me."
"Mummy's going to kill Daddy," Harry gleefully informed Sirius. "Harry play now." He squirmed down James's body and ran off.
As they walked into the kitchen, Sirius felt oddly nervous. He couldn't understand why, until he realized that this was the first dinner they'd had where all five of them were together since October. He didn't know why it should affect him- they'd all seen Peter multiple times since his confession. But tonight, it was an attempt at….
An attempt at going back to what they'd all once been.
Lily was at the stove, stirring. With nothing to do and nowhere to go, she'd taken to making ridiculously complicated and involved recipes- a vast improvement from her cooking when she'd first married James. She was talking animatedly to Peter and Remus. Peter was washing dishes for her, and Remus was sitting at the kitchen table. Sirius noticed that his hands were far too thin and that the bones of his wrists protruded more than they used to.
They were all falling apart.
"-So I told him that if he didn't give me the crossword puzzle, I'd hex him to next Tuesday," Lily was saying. "It's not like he finishes them these days anyway, and I'm sorry, but I need more mental stimulation than reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar for the millionth time. A little egg lay on a leaf. One Sunday morning, the warm sun came up and-"
"Pop!" shouted Harry, from where he was playing with his Levitating Locomotive.
It was at that point that Sirius realized that Lily had not spoken to another woman in over nine months, and only the four of them and Dumbledore in terms of adults. He looked at James, but James was staring into space.
Of course, James was in just as bad of straits.
They sat around the table that night, and to Sirius's surprise the conversation flowed. It wasn't deep and it revealed very little, but they talked about funny things Harry had done, and the engagement of Emmaline Vance and Fred Malkin, and laughed about the idea of Arabella Figg hooking up with Mungdungus Fletcher and Deadus Diggle in an unattractive threesome. The table was lit by candlelight and it made a warm, golden circle that encompassed them all.
***
"Come back to my place for a while?" Sirius asked Remus.
"Sure." Remus smiled. Sirius's heart still leapt at the sight.
"You know," he said, after he'd gotten them both a drink, "I still underestimate Lily. I never realized until tonight how lonely she and James must be, but more her."
Remus turned the glass in his hands, watching the reflection of light playing on the liquid within. "You're right," he finally said at length. "I never thought of it before, but as much as we love Lily, we weren't her only friends."
"Not like James."
"Do you think James is okay?" Remus asked.
"As okay as he can be, yeah," Sirius said, even though he didn't believe it. "Did you notice he and Peter had a long conversation?"
"Saw that," Remus said. "You know, I'm not sure if I should be, but I'm glad."
Sirius wasn't sure what he thought about that.
They continued to drink. The night breeze blew in through the open windows and through the flat, glancing off sweaty necks and cooling the warmth of May. They began bitterly, Sirius knew that. But as the evening progressed, the alcohol burned off the bitterness and took them back to the days when everything had been easy.
Maybe that was why, suddenly, it was easy to lean over and kiss Remus, right in the middle of a sentence.
Remus froze for a moment under Sirius's lips, but Sirius's reflexes were dulled by drunkenness. And he was glad, because if he'd pulled away, Remus wouldn't have had time to recover and begin kissing him back.
Remus's lips were firm and gentle under his, and his fingertips ghosting over Sirius's face, as soft as the breeze. After a moment, Sirius dared to touch back. He was tentative, just as gentle, because if he touched too hard this bubble might pop and leave him in a reality he was all too familiar with and really didn't want.
There was no pressure, no rush. There was only the warmth of their bodies together, the whisper of skin under tracing touches, the gentle probing of kisses. Sirius could hear his blood beating through his veins, his breath catching in his throat. When he cracked his eyes open, Remus was the same.
They drifted apart naturally, and Sirius fully meant to smile. But he could only lace his fingers through Remus's, and suddenly, he was terrified.
"Sirius?"
Plague. That's what they were calling it in the Muggle world. Sirius had heard of it, but of course it didn't apply to him because he was invincible and would live forever. But now, with Remus here, almost in his arms, he was human again.
"Remus, I…"
Remus squeezed his hand. "I… yeah. Me, too."
"I didn't know."
"Didn't know what?"
"That I'd ever have a chance."
Remus smiled ruefully. "Me, either. Just another secret we've both been keeping, huh?" But his eyes were haunted and sad.
Sirius shook his head. "Look, I want this. More than I've ever wanted anything. But maybe we shouldn't rush."
Remus chuckled hollowly. "Who are you and what have you done with Sirius Black?" he said. "But no, I see your point. There's been too much… too much that we've hidden."
Too much that we're hiding now, Sirius thought. But he couldn't say that out loud.
***
Sirius couldn't tell James about it. Not yet. He could barely even say it to himself- how could he say it to someone who was like the other half of him? He couldn't bear to see James's face.
He couldn't tell Remus. If he told Remus, he'd have to explain what he'd been doing. All those angry, anonymous nights hung heavy on his conscience.
But the Muggle paper he'd picked up flashed its headline from the table, the black letters of the headline shriveling his soul. Sirius Black had never been afraid of anything before, but he was afraid of this.
He was still sitting at the kitchen table when Peter Flooed in, tentative and unsure. "You sent me an owl, Sirius?"
Sirius sighed and pushed the paper over. "Have you seen this before?"
Peter's mouth moved as he read over the words. "No. Blimey, scary stuff. But why are you reading the Muggle papers?"
"By accident," Sirius admitted. "I found that one while I was… waiting for someone."
"Oh. What were you doing waiting for someone in public?"
"Don't worry about that," Sirius began sharply, and then sighed. "I'm sorry. This isn't easy for me to say."
It was a confession Peter had never heard from Sirius, and he treated it as such, sitting down slowly. "Sirius? What is it?"
Sirius bit his lip, and then plunged ahead. "I'm gay," he told Peter, because there was no point in a prelude. Peter's eyes widened, but he still sat, knowing Sirius well enough to know that he still had more to say. "I'm gay, and I've been in love with Remus for years."
"Remus?" Peter asked. "I'd have thought-"
"I'm gay, not stupid and crazy about masochism," Sirius scowled. "Just because James is my best friend doesn't mean he's the only man I'd ever want in my life. Besides, that whole married thing?"
"Right. Sorry." Peter backpedaled quickly. "So…. What does Remus think about this?"
Sirius shrugged. "Enough that there's something to be going on. I didn't think so, but I found out otherwise last night."
Peter considered this. "Did you sleep together?" he asked, not able to completely hide a note of incredulous disgust in his voice. Sirius cringed.
"No. But I've slept with other people. Lots of other people."
"Who?"
Sirius looked away. "I don't know their names."
Peter was silent, and finally, Sirius dragged his gaze back. Peter's face was filled with shock and horror. "Don't you get all-"
"Oh, Sirius…" Peter said, his voice breaking.
Peter had always been smarter than Sirius had given him credit for.
Unexpectedly, his eyes filled with tears and a lump formed in his throat. "I haven't been tested yet," he said. "But if I want things to go further with Remus, I should. But I can't go alone."
"I'll go with you," Peter volunteered instantly. "But Sirius… if you knew this was risky, why did you do it at all?"
"Honestly?" Sirius looked Peter square in the eyes. "I never expected I'd be living this long."
Peter had the decency to flush.
***
In the Muggle world, tests would have taken weeks to come back. At St. Mungo's, they only had to wait an hour.
"I didn't think it would just be a blood test," Peter said as they sat together in the antechamber. He picked up a magazine from 1979. "Something that scary, it seems like it should be more."
"Look, can we not talk about it?" Sirius demanded.
"Sure." Peter flipped open the magazine.
A few minutes later he put his hand on Sirius's knee to stop the jiggling.
***
"Sirius Black?" The mediwitch was trying to maintain a neutral expression, but the desire not to be anywhere near him- or Peter- was clear in her eyes. From the way Peter cut off his denial that they were a couple, Sirius knew he wasn't imagining it. But he couldn't tell anything else. "Follow me."
All Sirius could hear was the blood thundering in his ears.
The witch handed him a sealed parchment. "Would you like me to be here when you open it?"
"No." Sirius didn't look at her, only at the roll. "I'm fine."
"Buzz when you're ready to discuss it."
And just by the way she said that, he knew what the results said. But when he opened it and saw the big black letters saying, "POSITIVE", the shock still shook him to his core.
He looked at Peter, shaking from head to toe. Peter was standing by the counter, hands wrapped around the Formica edge. But when their eyes met, he crossed the distance quickly and put his arms around Sirius.
"Padfoot…."
***
"Are you going to tell Remus?" Peter asked as they walked away, bareheaded in the summer rain.
"No," Sirius said. "Not yet. Maybe it won't come up again."
"Are you going to tell James?"
"Absolutely not. James has enough to worry about, with Voldemort after his family and living in hiding. He doesn't need to know this, too."
Peter nodded. "That makes sense. Don't worry. I can keep a secret."
They both froze. Finally, Sirius snorted. "Yeah. I'm beginning to remember that you can."
***
The house was quiet. Harry and Lily were both napping. James checked on them both before he hurried down to the basement.
"I shouldn't do this," he muttered, just like he did every time.
But he did it anyway.
***
"James. James!"
The voice was solid and real, and very, very angry. James tried to bring himself back to the real world, but the pull of his fuzzy haven was too strong.
"Potter, you prat!"
Someone smacked him.
He managed to focus his eyes long enough to see Lily, her face furious as she stood, hands on her hips. "James Potter, you'd better listen to me!"
"Listenin'," he mumbled.
"Just how long did you think you were going to get away with this?"
"Wha?"
Lily let out an inarticulate screech, stamping her foot. "Oh, just get your arse upstairs when you've come down!"
He wanted to retreat, to reclaim that beautiful floating feeling. But already the world was solidifying, and he was becoming solid and real again. It wasn't a good thing. He knew he was in trouble. He only hoped he could talk his way out of it. He took a deep breath and began to tackle the steps.
Lily was in the living room, throwing pillows onto the couch with a force that made James step back and nearly go tumbling down the steps. "What's wrong, honey?" he asked.
"What's wrong? What's wrong? I've been up here for four hours, waiting for you for dinner, dealing with Harry, putting him to bed, and you've been down in the basement imbibing God-only-knows-what, and you're asking me what's wrong?"
"I'm not… I didn't…"
Lily spun on her heel, and James had to grab the door jambs under the ferocity of her attack. "You did too! James, I created that potion. You think I don't know what it does?"
"You know?" he asked incredulously.
Lily snorted. "I've known for months, James. How stupid do you think I am?"
"You've never said anything," he said defensively.
"You've never fallen down this badly on your responsibilities."
That stung. "Well," James huffed. "I need some way of coping with this… this situation. I'm trapped in here and powerless and miserable, and-"
"What?" Lily screeched. "You're trapped? You're powerless? You're miserable? How do you think I feel? How do you think Harry feels? We're right here with you, and you can't be arsed to see that you're not the only one suffering!"
"I-"
Lily was in full ranting mode now. "You think that you're being oh-so-noble and hiding it, but you're not! You're being pathetic, and the only reason I've allowed you to continue this disgusting habit is because I understand! I feel like you do! I want out, too! But at least I remember Harry!"
"I never forgot Harry!" James shot back. "So one night, one night I didn't help you put him to bed. What's the big deal?"
"The big deal is this!" Lily shouted, brandishing a small blue bowl.
James regarded it with confusion. "It's a bowl. My cauldron was dirty and besides, it's not like I make that much. I was going to wash it and put it away. What-"
"It's not just a bowl," Lily fumed.
"Priceless family heirloom?"
"WE PUT HARRY'S CHEERI-OWLS IN IT!" Lily roared.
James's mouth sagged open.
"Well? What do you have to say for yourself? How in the world do you defend this?"
"I… uh… Well…."
"I put up with this as long as I could, James. I can take you disappearing for hours. I can take what you're doing to your body, because only an idiot would keep taking a potion that contains powdered doxy stings. I can take how you've completely shut me out. But I will not tolerate you putting Harry in danger. I want you to leave."
"Oh, Lily, come on." James took a few steps forward and tried to embrace his wife, but she pushed him away furiously. "Lily, you can't be serious. Voldemort is looking for us."
"No. Voldemort is looking for Harry, for some God awful reason. Not you. You have ten minutes to pack your things and get out of here."
The look on her face said she was serious. Any residual high ebbed out of him, leaving James cold and flat. "Lily, come on. We can work through this. We love each other."
Lily shook her head. "The man I was in love with never would have endangered his own child like that. Get out, James, and don't come back."
***
"It's just a tiff," James told Dumbledore breezily, even though he didn't believe it any more than the old man did. "But I'll humor her. She'll want me to come back in a week, two at the most, but she needs time to cool off. You know women."
"Some might say the fairer sex is a misnomer," Dumbledore said, with a smile that didn't extend to his eyes. "This will require some rearrangements."
"Rearrangements?" James asked. "It's really pretty simple. I know I can stay with Sirius. Lily and Harry will stay at Godric's Hallow."
Dumbledore sighed. "They can't. It's not that easy, James."
"Why not? They're still protected. I can't tell anyone where they are."
"You just told me."
"But you already know! And if I tried to tell someone else, I wouldn't be able to!"
"But you can find your way there. And I do not trust you at this point to take the proper precautions before visiting."
James pulled himself up. "You don't trust me?"
Dumbledore looked sad. "No, James. I don't."
***
"Can you believe it?" James demanded, tossing his bag onto Sirius's couch. "He doesn't trust me!"
"Dumbledore doesn't trust anyone," Sirius said. He bit his lip, wondering how he was going to get the medical potions he'd been taking off the bathroom counter without James noticing.
He didn't need to worry. James flopped on the couch next to his bag and crossed his arms. "Still. It's my own wife and kid. I'm not going to turn them over to Voldemort."
Sirius took a deep breath. "That's not what he's worried about, James." James glared at him over the top of his glasses, and Sirius continued. "He's worried about you being so hopped up on something that you won't notice someone tracking you."
James pressed his lips together. "That would never happen, and you know it, Padfoot."
Sirius bit his tongue, and an awkward silence descended on the flat.
"So," Sirius said, when it became unbearable. "I assume Dumbledore is the new Secret Keeper?"
"No," James spat. "Snivellus is."
"WHAT? That dirty, filthy, greasy bastard… you know he's always had a thing for Lily, right?"
James rolled his eyes. "Like he ever had a chance. But that's what Dumbledore thinks will make him keep the secret. He loves Lily. And he won't tell me. You or Remus or Peter would."
Sirius thought about that. He hated Snape with a passion that exceeded most other passions, but an unexpected pang of sympathy welled up. Dumbledore was one manipulative bastard. He said as much, but James just shrugged.
"Listen, Sirius. While I'm here… do you mind if I mix the stuff occasionally? It's not like Lily says, but with everything that's happening… well, sometimes you need a distraction."
Sirius hated the idea with every fiber of his being. But he had to nod yes. After all, how could he deny James his secret when he was keeping one that was so much worse?
***
"How are you feeling?" Peter asked Sirius quietly, while James and Remus were debating which bottle to open next.
Sirius shrugged. "Completely normal," he lied. "They tell me that will change eventually, but no one knows when."
Peter shifted awkwardly, but perversely, Sirius found he appreciated that he was making the effort. Remus was rarely around, and James was so wrapped up in whatever he was throwing down his throat and thoughts of Lily's "unfairness" that he hadn't noticed anything was amiss.
James had been living with him for a month. Sirius had thought he'd never get tired of his best friend… he was starting to think he might be wrong.
"Sirius?" Peter began tentatively. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure, you can ask."
"Are we friends again?"
The question really took him by surprise. He thought of everything Peter had done, and everything he hadn't. "I don't know," he said finally.
Peter smiled. "Well, that's progress anyway."
***
It took more effort than leaving used to, but eventually Peter and Remus made their ways home, under the cover of spells and protective charms. Sirius sat back, utterly exhausted. He'd lied to Peter, but the nausea, exhaustion, and night sweats were flu-like enough that he really didn't want to say more. Besides, the healer at St. Mungo's said that part would go away soon enough.
Besides, there were other things on his mind.
"Prongs?" he asked. "Did you notice anything different about Moony?"
James shrugged, feet up on the table. His eyes were glassy, and Sirius suspected that he'd made a little trip into the bathroom. But he seemed astute enough as he cocked his head to one side. "He did seem kind of skinny."
"Far too thin," Sirius agreed. "And he didn't touch the curry."
They both looked at the styrofoam take-out boxes. "He doesn't have work," James finally said. "And he does have pride."
"Don't know. Seems like there's more to it."
"Well," James sighed, wiggling deeper into the couch. "You should ask him. You're the one in love with him, not me."
"Yeah." Sirius closed his eyes, and once again relived that night in his head.
"What?" James said, just when things were getting good. Sirius cracked open one eye to see James studying him intently. "Oh, no. You two didn't."
"No, we didn't."
"But you…"
"Yeah. There's something. But with everything that's happening these days, we just decided it's not a good idea to rush."
Sirius waited on tetherhooks for James to ask him to elaborate. But either he hadn't been mysterious enough, or James didn't pick up on the hint, because he didn't follow it. Instead, he said, "I'm glad."
"Glad?"
"Yeah, well. Look, I love you, Padfoot-"
Definitely on something, Sirius thought.
"-But you and Remus together… the idea is pretty weird to me."
Sirius's eyes narrowed. "Oh, is it?"
James's head lolled to the side. Sirius knew that he shouldn't be listening to a word James was saying now, but when James said, "Yeah, it really is. I mean, I just didn't expect it of you. It's okay, you know. But Remus is a werewolf."
"And that never stopped us from being friends with him."
"Yeah, but it's part of what made us think he could be the spy."
Sirius couldn't really defend that.
"See, the way I see it, there's always a line you're not willing to cross, even if you say you're okay with something," James continued. "I mean, if I'd known you were a poof when Harry was born, I might not have asked you to be godfather."
Sirius began to tremble, and his stomach turned over. He barely made it to the bathroom in time.
***
When James woke up the next morning, the living room was still in shambles and stunk of stale liquor and turned curry. He groaned and scrubbed at his face.
"I should have learned by now not to mix it with alcohol," he mumbled, head throbbing.
He struggled to his feet and to the bathroom for some hangover cure. There was only a dose of the cure left. James shook his head. Sirius must have really hit the booze hard last night. Surely he wasn't needing that much. He swilled some down and stepped through the shower.
It was still quiet in the flat when he came out. Far too quiet- Sirius was an early riser, especially after drinking heavily. Hoping he was alone, James opened the door to Sirius's room.
Sirius was in bed, huddled under the covers, shivering with fever.
"Merlin!" James flew to the bedside. "Sirius, what's wrong?" He felt his forehead and snatched his hand away. "You're burning up!"
"'Sokay," Sirius said through chattering teeth. "Just get me that jar. The one on my dresser. 'Blue."
There was no label, but Sirius nodded when James put his hand on it. He handed it over. Sirius struggled to sit and then sipped it, making a hideous face at the taste.
"Sirius," James pleaded. "Tell me what's wrong. Please."
Sirius put the stopper back in the bottle. "It's just a flu," he said, and already color was returning to his face. "It will go away in a few days."
"Maybe we should get you to St. Mungo's."
"No!" Sirius jerked upright, groaned, and then fell back. "No. Too dangerous."
"St. Mungo's is still all right."
Sirius shook his head. "If it was something else, maybe. But they're just going to tell me to take this stuff and get some rest. No sense risking our lives for something we already know."
James looked down at the bottle again. Now that he thought about it, that sort of cure wasn't something people kept around. And Sirius spoke with way too much assurance. It began to dawn on him that something else was going on. But as he looked at Sirius's pale, drawn face, he knew he wasn't going to find out exactly what it was.
"I need to sleep," Sirius said, turning away and pulling the covers up over his shoulders.
"Yeah. Sure." James looked around the room. Sirius had always been a fairly neat person, but James noticed several books and papers near the bed, as well as a bowl and a couple of glasses. It was as if Sirius had been spending a lot of time in bed recently.
The potion must have contained some ingredient to help sleep, because Sirius began to snore softly. James hesitated, and then continued to look around.
There were a few other jars without labels, and a stack of papers that were enchanted to look like an old Quidditch magazine. James could tell they were enchanted because Sirius had probably-on-purpose misspelled Quidditch, which meant he wanted to make sure it wasn't thrown out. James tried for a couple of minutes to get the real papers to reveal, but Sirius obviously didn't want their contents known. He set them aside gently. There were also framed pictures. A picture of the two of them together, his and Lily's wedding picture, a picture of Harry, a picture of Remus alone, and the same picture of the four of them that James had near his workbench at home.
Home. James picked up the wedding picture, looking at Lily's beautiful, radiant face, and sighed. From the frame on the dresser, Harry giggled silently and wiggled, holding his arms out to him. He missed them both so badly, and loved them both so much, and he had no idea where they were. How could things have possibly gotten this bad?
***
The full moon was over, but Remus had to wait for two days before returning to his bedsit. It was becoming harder and harder to explain why he chose to remain in the Wizarding world, and his excuses of indoor plumbing and soft mattresses were wearing thin. Finally, he returned home to find the place stuffy and humid and a note on the table from Sirius.
Floo me when you come back. I need to talk to you.
Remus only hesitated for a moment, and then Flooed Sirius. Then Sirius was there, warm and real and not only in Remus's imagination as he'd been for the past two days.
"You look terrible," Sirius said, staring at him.
"Thanks. One might say the same of you." Sirius wasn't wasting away, but something about his stance gave that impression, as did the heavy shadows under his eyes. "I still need to shower."
"Go ahead. I'll come in and talk at you through the curtain."
Remus shrugged. To be honest, it was nice, sort of like being back in Gryffindor tower when they'd all shared a room… and their lives. He stepped into the shower, turned it on as hot as he could stand it, and pulled the cheap vinyl curtain closed. "What's going on?" he asked over the rushing water.
"A lot," Sirius said. "Where have you been?"
"Hogwarts, most recently. Places that weren't nearly as comfortable before that. Why? Is it Peter?"
"No, actually. Wormtail's been good."
"Figures." Remus picked up the soap and grimaced as he looked down at his own torso. It was ridiculous to think that anything that might have developed was going anywhere now. "You know, I'm beginning to believe that's not going to change. Dumbledore was right."
Sirius grumbled something, but the fact it was jumbled indicated his agreement, if not complete forgiveness. Not that Remus could blame him- he wasn't exactly forgiving Peter, either. "So, James then?"
"Yeah."
"That shit he's been taking?"
"Well, yeah, but we've been over that. Something that he said a few days ago."
"What is it?" There was silence, and Remus popped his head out from behind the curtain. "Padfoot?"
Sirius was staring at his hands. "He said… he said he didn't know that I was gay when Harry was born, and if he had known, he might not have asked me to be Harry's godfather."
The coldness of that statement didn't sound like James at all. Remus narrowed his eyes. "Was he drunk or high when he said this?"
"Both," Sirius admitted. "It was the last time you and Peter were over."
Remus scrubbed his hair and thought about it. "He really didn't know before Harry was born? You didn't tell him?"
"Didn't want to believe it myself."
"What's he said since?"
"Nothing. In fact, it's almost like he doesn't remember it. And I was sick for a few days after, and he was there doing everything he could for me."
Remus shut off the water. "Sounds like it was the drugs talking."
Sirius snorted. "Placebo. I thought of that, but why would he say it if on some level he didn't mean it?"
"I'm sure there's discomfort on some level," Remus admitted. He stepped out and swathed a towel around his hips. "But a real friend can ignore their discomfort. Which is what he does. He still lets Harry be around you. Well, he did."
Sirius shook his head. "I guess." He looked up at Remus, and Remus wanted to shrink away, or at least hide further behind the towel. He hadn't eaten more than a few bites at a time ever since… ever since.
"Don't start, Sirius."
"Wasn't going to," Sirius clearly lied.
Remus didn't argue the point. Instead, he brushed past Sirius to root through his drawer for a clean robe. "Have you talked about it?"
"Nah. I'm not sure I want the real answer." Sirius sighed and sat down on Remus's bed, which also served as the couch. "It's been strange, though."
"Everything's been strange these days." Remus sat down next to Sirius. The warmth of his body against his was nice, after the lonely and soul-chilling week it had been. "When was the last time we saw anyone outside the Order? Or got out just for a day?"
Sirius shook his head, and Remus sighed at the exhaustion on his face. They were all tired. Tired of thinking about it, tired of being scared, tired of hiding, tired of having to hole up in flats and houses protected by spells, or other hiding places, tired of hiding from each other.
Sirius's hand was against his, and his pinky draped over Remus's own. Remus's heart caught in his chest, but he tried to keep casual. "Remember that time we went into Hogsmeade and snuck into the Hog's Head?"
Sirius chuckled, the vibration low and entering Remus's body. "You'll have to be more specific than that." His pinky began to move, brushing over the back of Remus's hand.
"It was sixth year. Winter. We were teasing Peter about Lydia and James was singing that ridiculous song at the top of his lungs." Remus turned his hand over slowly, so Sirius's fingers were tracing his palm.
Now there was no doubt about anything as Sirius laced his fingers through Remus's. Remus drew his breath in at the touch, an electric thrill running through him. He squeezed gently, and Sirius squeezed back. "You had your first shot of whiskey," Sirius said, his voice low and gravelly. "I remember."
"First shot? I had my first bottle. You probably remember better than I do."
"We had to drag you home."
"By the ankles, I remember. You could have used a spell. Or something with a little more dignity." Remus turned to face Sirius, laughing. Their eyes locked, and Remus leaned into him. "But no."
"Well, you deserved it, finishing it all like that." Sirius was studying Remus's mouth.
He saw the black line of Sirius's lashes flutter shut, and knew it was coming. He leaned in, closing his own eyes. When Sirius's lips touched his, he sighed and leaned into the kiss.
He'd wanted this for years, and never quite believed it would happen. Even now, as their kiss deepened and Sirius reached up to cup his cheek, it seemed unreal. Remus lost himself in it, especially as Sirius pushed him back onto the bed.
Sirius was shaking. Remus could feel it, but then, he was shaking, too. This had been too long in coming. He broke the kiss and mouthed Sirius's throat, tasting the skin.
Tasting the skin.
The revulsion crashed over him like a tsunami, and he had to push Sirius off him and sprint for the bathroom. He hadn't realized there was anything in his stomach to bring up, but apparently there was. When he finished, he sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth with his hand.
This couldn't continue. Not like this.
He took a deep breath and rinsed his mouth, then left the bathroom to see Sirius sitting on the bed, his head buried between his hands.
"We need to talk."
"Understatement." Sirius looked up, his face drawn and white. "I think it's safe to assume the thought of sex with me wasn't revolting you enough to send you running to puke."
Short-lived relief flooded him. "You understand that?"
"Of course, dingbat." Sirius smiled briefly, but the smile drained right off. "But there's a lot we need to say. You first, or me?"
"Me. If I don't say it…" Remus bit his lip. "I won't."
"Fair enough." Sirius sat back against the wall and pulled his knees up to his chest. "What's eating you?"
Remus cringed at the unintentional pun. The bile began to rise, and he almost lost his nerve yet again. But he looked at Sirius, and saw not only someone he loved, but the friend who had given him courage time and time again through the years. "I'm going to break a lot of rules," he began slowly. "Just so you know. But… but." He looked down. "Where I've been all those times… all those times I'm not here. All those times I couldn't say. I've been spying for Dumbledore."
Sirius groaned.
"What?"
"Just… why did that possibility never even occur to James and me?"
"Oh. Sirius, don't dwell on it, not right now. Please. That's past."
"Who does he have you spying on?"
Remus swallowed hard. "Voldemort has been recruiting Dark Creatures to help him. You know that. So-"
"Werewolves."
"Right, but let me tell it, please." Sirius nodded. "There's a group… a pack of werewolves living in Northern England. They don't mingle with society much. But the worst of it is they accept what they are. No. They enjoy being what they are. And Voldemort is using that. They aren't Death Eaters, but tools of the Death Eaters. And so that's where I've been going every month, and sometimes more.
"You can't imagine it, Sirius. You don't want to imagine it. But that's not the worst of it. The leader… the leader is a werewolf named Fenrir Greyback. I never wanted to tell you about him, because, well, he's the one that bit me." Remus had to look away at this point. "I can't talk about that, not because Dumbledore didn't tell me to, but because I can't. Not if I want to tell you the rest.
"I have to be with them at the full moon. That's why I can't have you and James and Peter around when I transform. It's too dangerous for all of us. But there's a price… and I've had to pay it."
"You mean…" Sirius whispered.
Remus closed his eyes. "I killed someone."
Silence echoed through the room, heavy and oppressive and closing over his head like quicksand. Remus couldn't bear to turn around to see Sirius's face.
And when he did, it was just as bad as he imagined.
***
On to Part 2
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2008-07-03 03:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-03 11:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-03 01:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-03 11:42 am (UTC)Bloody hell.
Utterly brilliant, though. I'm just blown away by it.
Part two, here I come!