Fic: Accidentally In Love Part 5
Mar. 3rd, 2005 12:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lls_mutantFINALLY! Oh, this part seemed hard to write. It's not my favorite, but it's one of those parts that kind of had to happen because it explains a lot about Sirius's mindset, but... I'm just glad it's done. One of those I know where I've been and I know where I'm going, but getting there... type things.
Anyway.
Title: Accidentally In Love Part 5
Pairing: Sirius/Remus
Disclaimer: Not mine. No money.
Rating: R. I rated this an R more for an implied rape. The rape does not take place between Sirius and Remus, is not detailed, and the fall out will not be addressed from the victim's point of view by me, although it is important. (If someone gets bitten by the plot bunny though, and wants to deal with it, please let me know!)
Part V- Realities
The Dragon Rider Pub had a “Closed” sign hanging on the door, but twenty six wizards and witches were inside regardless, scattered in groups around the tables and bar. Laughter hung over the crowd, and the atmosphere was charged with camaraderie.
“It’s a beautiful ring, Lily,” Remus said, examining her outstretched hand. Beside her, James beamed with pride. “Have you set a date yet?”
“We’re thinking in the spring,” Lily said. “James wanted Christmas, but-“
“Christmas!” Peter protested, eyes wide. “That’s less than two months away!”
“Exactly,” Lily twinkled. “How can you plan a proper wedding in two months, I ask you?” She lifted the butterbeer to her lips and took a sip. “It’s just not possible.”
“What’s to plan?” James asked. “You, me, a few people, a few sandwiches, a pair of rings and boom! We’re married.”
Lily rolled her eyes at Remus, who stifled his snicker behind his hand. Personally, he agreed fully with James. But Remus Lupin hadn’t lived to the ripe old age of eighteen without learning some things. He tactfully kept his mouth shut.
“Where’s Sirius, by the way?” Peter asked, twirling his own beer bottle between his hands.
“He owled and said he’d be late,” James answered. “I don’t see any of the Aurors here yet, actually.”
“He said they had a late meeting,” Remus couldn’t resist saying, just to shut up the twinge of irrational jealousy he felt when James mentioned the owl. “Something with Crouch.”
“Oh.” Peter lost interest. “I have to say, Fabian’s got a really nice place here. I like it better than the Leaky Cauldron.”
“Me too,” Remus agreed.
The Dragon Rider Pub that the Order was gathering in was much smaller than the Leaky Cauldron. The tables were heavy oak, scratched with the initials and names of otherwise anonymous wizards. Bottles of liquor- both Muggle and wizard- reflected the dim light, and to Remus’s delight there were two snooker tables in the back.
“What’s that you’re drinking?” Lily asked, sniffing the glass and making a face.
“Jack Daniels. Muggle whiskey or bourbon or something like that.”
“It smells like shoe polish,” Lily opined.
Remus lifted his glass to her.
“Has Tina given any more thought to joining the Order?” James asked Peter.
Peter shook his head. “No. Her job is keeping her too busy. Did I tell you guys she got taken on to be an Obliviator?”
“No. Good for her.” James tried to sound enthusiastic, but they all knew he considered working in the Ministry a fate more boring than History of Magic classes. “How’s your job going, Remus?”
“Not bad. I’ve only been to St. Mungo’s once more, and that was when Poky- I really wish he’d would get rid of that thing- bit Caradoc. I really hate that little bugger. We might-“
“Hey,” James interrupted, “here comes Padfoot.” Remus turned in his seat to see the door opening and Sirius entering with a gust of wind and two fellow Aurors.
“Afternoon, mates,” Sirius said, swinging his leg over the bench and plopping down beside Remus. “You all met Alice and Frank last time, right?”
Remus hadn’t, although Sirius had been talking about Alice enough. Enough that it could make a more insecure bloke jealous, and from the look on Frank’s face as Alice and Sirius teased each other, there was at least one insecure bloke here. Remus caught his eye and smiled sympathetically at him.
“Remus Lupin,” he said, extending his hand.
“Ah. You father’s Damien Lupin, right? I’m Frank Longbottom.” Frank took his hand firmly, looking Remus straight in the eyes.
Alice was more reticent. She knew exactly who and what he was, Remus could tell. He could see it in the way she drew in her breath and leaned back, just a little. She took his hand and shook it, but he noticed that she dropped it quickly. He’d expected this, he told himself ruefully. No, that wasn’t true; he’d expected worse. And she was trying. She knew what he was and she was trying, and that was more than he could say about most people. “Nice to meet you,” he said politely.
“Likewise.” Now that she had her hand back she relaxed and smiled. “So you’re the famous Remus Lupin.”
He spread his hands. “In the flesh.”
“Sirius has told me so much about you and it must be-“
Next to her, Sirius suddenly stiffened and his face paled, and in that gesture Remus knew. He’d told Alice far more than just that Remus was a werewolf. Alice- and logically, Frank- knew everything.
“It must be interesting working with Caradoc Dearborn.” Frank’s voice overrode Alice’s as he sat down across from Remus. “I’ve heard he’s absolutely brilliant, although I don’t know much about magical creatures, myself. I went in for Arithmancy and Muggle Studies. What sort of work do you do?”
Beside him, Remus could feel Sirius cringing. Wise move on his part, as Remus was ready to kill him. “We work mainly with amphibious and reptilian creatures,” Remus said, and began to explain their work. Frank seemed interested, until Peter made some comment that Remus couldn’t quite hear, and both Sirius and Alice burst into laughter, Alice’s hand on Sirius’s shoulder. The casual intimacy rankled in him, and Remus came to a sudden decision.
“Buy you a drink?” he offered. Next to him, Sirius tensed. Good.
“Sounds good,” Frank agreed with a wink. “Whatever you’re having.”
Fabian Prewett was two tables away, talking to Emmaline Vance. Remus flagged him down. “Two Jacks,” he said, flipping Fabian the money and then returning to face Frank. Sirius, he noticed, had relaxed, apparently deciding that Remus had no immediate plans to kill him. He was regaling Alice with “How Lily Rejected James, version forty-two.” Alice was leaning in, laughing, and the small fair unbiased not-ready-to-blow-at-Sirius’s-big-mouth part of Remus admitted she probably had no idea how she was flirting with Sirius. But screw that.
“I feel like I should be asking you ‘what’s your sign’,” Remus chuckled, swallowing the last of his whiskey. “This is something I’m not at all good at.”
Frank shook his head. “That’s always a start. How about ‘Do you come here often?’?”
“Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”
“Hey there, do you want to see something really swell?”
“Are you here to meet a nice man, or will I do?”
“I just wanted to show this rose how incredibly beautiful you are!”
Remus snorted. Under the table, Sirius’s hand landed possessively on his leg. “That’s terrible,” he said, pretending he didn’t notice the hand. “Hey, know how many bones are in the body?”
Frank’s face screwed up in concentration. “Two hundred and sixty five.”
“I can’t believe you knew that. Want one more?”
Frank was struggling to keep a straight face. “If I said you had a nice body, would you hold it against me?”
“You look tired,” Remus said. “Let me clean off a place for you to sit down.” He wiped his arm across his mouth.
“I’m not trying to pressure you,” Frank said. “I never have sex without mutual consent. Oh, by the way, you have my consent.”
Alice choked on her drink, and Sirius’s hand clenched around Remus’s thigh so tightly Remus thought he might have bruises. Remus sputtered with laughter. “Let’s go see about our drinks,” he said, inclining his head towards the bar. They walked side by side, shoulders brushing together for good measure.
“She’s going to kill me,” Frank said, half laughing and half serious as they leaned against the bar.
“Same here, I suppose,” Remus admitted, picking up the glass Fabian finally handed to him. “Maybe we went a little far, but….” A shrug was the only way he could finish the sentence.
Frank grimaced. “You know she’s wondering.”
“Is she?” Remus asked, surprised.
Frank took a deep swallow of his own whiskey. “Yeah.”
“Oh.”
Frank shrugged.
“Oh.” Remus really hated repeating himself like that. He glanced back over to where the others were sitting. Sirius was looking distinctly put out and Alice’s face was working in an odd way. “So Sirius told you,” Remus said, his voice stiff as he reminded himself why he wasn’t supposed to feel guilty.
“Well, no. The w-word is an open secret in the Auror office, because of your father. And the other one he told Alice, and she told me. I don’t think he thought about it.”
Remus sighed resignedly. “He never does.”
***
Sirius watched Remus and Frank through narrowed eyes. He didn’t like the way Frank put his hand on Remus’s arm, or the way Remus laughed at whatever Frank was saying. James noticed Sirius’s preoccupation and followed his gaze.
“That’s strange,” he said, the impressed tone of his voice grating on Sirius’s nerves. “I’ve never seen Moony warm up to anybody that quickly. It took him over a year to finally like Lily.”
“Try more like eight,” Lily pointed out. “We knew each other first year.”
“And he still doesn’t talk much to Tina,” Peter contributed.
“Yeah, well, Tina doesn’t talk much to Remus,” Lily said. “She’s never really liked him.”
“Really?” James and Sirius both turned to her. “Why?”
Lily shrugged, and Sirius made a mental note to get it out of her later. He glanced at Peter, but Peter wouldn’t meet his eye. He was about to comment when Dumbledore rose to speak and a hush automatically fell over the assembled Order.
“Thank you all for coming out tonight,” Dumbledore said. “I have very little news for the Order as a whole, which I find is a good thing to be saying. It means I have no casualties to report to you tonight.” There was a cheer. “Even better,” Dumbledore said smiling, “I can report that Edgar Bones is making excellent progress and should be released from the Spell Damage Ward of St. Mungo’s in two days.
“However, the enemy continues to grow in strength. While there have been no casualties in the Order itself, the Dark Mark has risen over thirteen homes this past month. We have had reports of Muggle-torture and harassment of Muggleborns, both by masked Death Eaters and Death Eater sympathizers. These harassments are not of an idle nature, and I must warn you that they shall continue to escalate.
“The Death Eaters have not suffered many losses, although the Aurors have arrested and proven the involvement of a few wizards and witches. Their greatest loss right now appears to be Thomas Kimberton, one of their best recruiting agents. We have just recently received information that he has fled to Eastern Europe. A team of Aurors will be leaving tomorrow to apprehend Kimberton.”
Sirius kicked James under the table, and pointed to himself, and then to Alice. James’s face lit up.
“Brilliant!” he mouthed at Sirius. He conjured a piece of parchment and a quill.
When do you leave? he scrawled.
-Tomorrow. Me, Fenwick, Lupin, and Kinns They think two weeks.
-You and Mr. Lupin are going on a mission together? Is that the best idea?
-He’s not so bad. I think he’s calmed down about things.
James poised the quill to write his response, but tucked the parchment away like a guilty schoolboy when Dumbledore’s eyes paused on them. Sirius snickered. James would never change. He himself met Dumbledore’s eyes, winked, and leaned back, putting his boots on the table.
Across the room he saw Remus restraining a laugh and grinned at him in return.
His grin didn’t last long, however. Dumbledore finished speaking, but Remus didn’t return to their table. He and Frank stayed at the bar talking animatedly, and Sirius kept losing the thread of conversation as he watched them, especially when Dumbledore approached them both. Remus was nodding solemnly and Frank was speaking, and across the table Sirius saw Alice’s eyes shooting fire as well.
Whatever game Remus was playing, Sirius didn’t like it at all.
***
“So you and Frank seemed to be getting along just fine,” Sirius not-quite-sneered, dropping onto his sofa. Remus wandered into the kitchen and helped himself to another glass of firewhiskey. Nothing was going right tonight.
“Sirius, just drop it, will you?” he demanded from the kitchen, suddenly very tired.
“I notice you managed to get an assignment together,” Sirius groused.
“Oh yes. An exciting, thrilling excitement translating a bunch of musty old scrolls Dumbledore’s dug up from some pit while you and Frank's fiancee brave danger at every turn.”
“Is that what this is about? You’re jealous?” Sirius asked incredulously.
“No. Frank’s jealous. I’m furious that you told Alice about us.” Remus corrected as he returned to the living room and handed Sirius a glass.
“Why? She was okay with it.”
“Which you found out after the fact,” Remus pointed out. “You had no idea how she would react.”
“But she was fine,” Sirius insisted.
Remus thought of the way Alice had dropped his hand so quickly. But then… he shook his head. “Sirius, you have to-“
“Remus, she was FINE!” Sirius’s voice rose to a shout.
Remus wanted to argue back. He wanted Sirius to see just how differently it could have gone. Alice and Frank were the exceptions, not the rule. And yet….
The Hogshead Inn flashed through his memory; the bitter taste of anxiety in his mouth.
Sirius must have sensed his hesitation. “You know,” he said quietly, “Alice is the first person I ever told. Except for you.”
The heartfelt words and Sirius’s sad expression cracked his resolve. Shouting suddenly seemed out of place. “It didn’t matter,” Sirius continued, “if she hated me for it.”
The light began to dawn. “You want to tell James.”
“No. I want to be able to tell James.”
All resistance crumpled. “I do too.” Remus sat down on the sofa next to Sirius, who draped an arm around his shoulders. “We could try telling Peter,” he suggested.
“That’s a non-starter. Wormtail’s even more hidebound than Prongs.”
“Really?”
Sirius nodded glumly. “Haven’t you noticed Peter only goes after pureblood girls?”
“He dated Emily Fairchild and now he’s with Tina Lovegood. That’s not a pattern.”
Sirius just shook his head. “He’d tell James anyway. You know he would.”
Remus couldn’t deny the truth of that.
“Besides,” Sirius said, his voice awkward. “What is there to tell?”
“Right,” Remus agreed, as Sirius’s arm tightened around him. “We’re not like James and Lily.”
“Or Alice and Frank.”
“Or Peter and Tina.”
“Or your parents.”
“We’re… us,” was the best definition Remus could come up with.
“Lovers,” Sirius decided carefully. “But not in love.”
“Exactly.”
“But you’d better not be sleeping Frank Longbottom while I’m gone.”
Remus laughed. “Give me one good reason why not,” he teased.
Sirius’s hands moving over him gave him many good reasons indeed.
***
“Moony?” Sirius asked later that night as they lay sated in bed, his head against Remus’s shoulder. “I have something to tell you.”
“Mmm?” Remus asked, still running his fingers through Sirius’s hair.
“That Death Eater that Dumbledore mentioned- Thomas Kimberton.”
“What about him?”
“I’m leaving tomorrow to go after him. I’ll be gone for at least two weeks, maybe more.” Remus was silent, waiting. “Your dad, Alice, Christine Kinns and me. We’re going to Turkey.”
“Oh.” The bitterness in Remus’s voice was almost palatable.
Sirius sighed and pushed up on one elbow. “You’re not jealous, are you? ‘Cause we just went over that and-“
“No,” Remus said, but his eyes didn’t meet Sirius’s.
“Don’t worry, either,” Sirius said. “I know it’s going to be dangerous-“
“Like that doesn’t make it all the more attractive to you,” Remus chuckled dryly.
“Okay, well, maybe. But you know me, I can take care of myself, and your dad really knows his shit.”
“I know.”
“We should be back in time for the full moon.”
“Okay.”
“And you’re still upset. Moony, what’s wrong?”
Remus sat up and fidgeted with the rug on the bed. “It’s stupid.”
“Tell me.”
“I’ve never seen Turkey before,” Remus said. “I’d like to.”
Oh. “Well, when this war is over, we’ll go there. You and me.”
Remus shook his head. “No we won’t, Sirius. The Ministry won’t let me.”
Right. Sirius had forgotten about that. “We’ll get around it. We’ll go anyway,” he insisted. “When the war’s over, we’ll find a way to travel the world together.”
Remus smiled sadly. “Just bring me back something good.”
***
Remus’s slim body is pressed back against his, water pounding down against them. The tiles are cold under his hands and forearms, his face is buried in the wet heat of Remus’s neck. Remus’s moans, endearingly more bold since they’d begun, bounce off the walls of the shower, echo in his ears, send trails of fire down his spine. Every thrust, every touch he swears to sear into his mind, although even seconds later the details begin to fade and it doesn’t matter, because he’s left with-
Left with the uncomfortable realization that an erection while riding a broomstick has got to be one of the most uncomfortable sensations on Earth.
Sirius shifted, trying to find a better position as well as a spot on his arse that hadn’t already been rubbed raw from a full day’s worth of flying. He flexed his fingers, once again cursing the fact he wasn’t allowed to bring the bike.
Alice was riding beside him, half focused on where she was flying and half focused on a paperback novel. Sirius had flown close enough to read the title once and had found ammunition for days of teasing: Broken Sunsets had to be a flowery romance novel. Ahead of them, Christine Kinns and Damien Lupin rode, both absurdly relaxed and fluid for the length of the trip and their age.
The landscape below them was at least different; the morning had been water, water, and more water. At least now there were villages and trees, variations in the colors and topography.
But still, it was bloody boring.
Damien dropped back in between Sirius and Alice, gesturing for their attention and pointing to a village they were approaching. Sirius sighed with relief and nodded, directing the broom into a gentle glide down to the village.
“Oi, but my bum is sore,” Christine said as they all dismounted. “Did we make it as far as Austria?”
“We’re in Leoben,” Damien confirmed. “There’s a wizarding inn here we can stay in. Not much to look at, but it will serve the purpose.”
Sirius looked around curiously. The smooth street was lined with houses standing shoulder to shoulder, painted a rainbow of pastel colors. It looked like a village in a children’s storybook- or at least a storybook found at James’s house.
“Here we are,” Damien said, pausing as a sign reading Trank-Vorlagenschutz appeared in front of them. “Excellent beer, from what I hear. Does anyone speak German?”
“I know a few words,” Sirius volunteered.
“Are any of them fit for polite company?”
“No.”
“Well then, there you have it,” Damien said, entering the inn. The others followed and waited as Damien had a short conversation with the old bent man behind the desk.
Damien sighed. “One room, two beds. I expect that’s going to be the case for the duration of this trip. Is that all right?”
Alice shrugged and Christine nodded. Sirius, not remotely an idiot and realizing this arrangement meant sharing a bed with Remus’s father, promptly spoke up. “Any chance of getting an extra blanket?” If he wasn’t mistaken, Damien almost laughed.
The room was cramped, with dark furnishings and deep red quilts on the bed. The brooms were tossed in a corner and Sirius dropped his own bag in a corner, wanting nothing more than to flop down and stretch out. “Remind me again, why couldn’t we just take a portkey?” he asked.
“Under cover this way,” Damien said. “Plus, there’s a few contacts along the route.”
“Under cover,” Alice muttered. “You touch a portkey and BAM! You’re there.”
Christine smiled. “True,” she said, rooting through a bag and finding a hairbrush. She pulled a few pins from her hair and began to comb it out. “But that sort of thing tends to generate a magical field. If someone’s looking for it, they’ll find it. And Kimberton is looking for it. What time are we meeting Lichtenstein?”
Damien glanced at his watch. “Twenty minutes. You two,” he said, pointing to Alice and Sirius. “Keep your mouths shut and your eyes open for trouble. I don’t think we’ll find it in Leoben, but when you’re an Auror, trouble has a way of finding you.”
***
Lichtenstein was a small, portly wizard that reminded Sirius intensely of Peter. He had narrow eyes, a receding hairline, and a hat that he compulsively wrung between his hands. He was accompanied by a tall, skinny wizard named Stern, who had the most ridiculous sideburns Sirius had ever seen.
“There’s been talk,” Lichtenstein said, leaning across his plate of pork schnitzel. “Furtive, but talk. Wizards are watching You-Know-Who and wondering. If he succeeds in taking Britain, it’s only a matter of time.”
“He is gathering allies,” Stern contributed in a smooth, impassible voice. “Hags, giants, goblins, warlocks, vampires, werewolves…”
Damien flinched.
“They flock to him, like moths to a flame. He offers the chance for them to feed their darker natures. Blood. Gold. Souls. And for those who are not tempted by such… indulgences… well, he finds their weakness.”
“Like rights,” Sirius said grimly. The corners of Damien’s mouth turned white.
“Exactly,” Stern said. “The situation of half-breeds and Dark Creatures is just as desperate in Austria, Spain, and France as it is in England, if not worse. Employment is rare. There are laws restricting marriage, offspring, magic, professions, living arrangements, associations, travel… if it is a part of life, it is restricted. Britain is not the first to require those of questionable blood to be marked.”
“And so Voldemort takes advantage of that,” Lichtenstein said, now running his fingers down his mug. “We cast them out and he takes them in.”
“Is it essentially unanimous?” Christine asked. “Are there dissidents?”
“There are a few,” Lichtenstein said, glancing sideways at Stern. “But many who do not flee to Voldemort do not defy him, either.”
“Most choose to hide,” Stern said scornfully. “They take no sides, and pray that they will never be forced to profess loyalty.”
“But not all,” Damien pressed.
“No,” Stern said significantly. “Not all.”
***
“I don’t like this,” Christine said late that night as they sat by the embers of the slowly dying fire. “I don’t like it at all.”
“What’s wrong?” Damien demanded.
“Stern. Don’t give me that look, Damien. Doge said nothing about Stern. Only Lichtenstein.”
“So Lichtenstein got some help. People do have friends.” Damien drained the last of his stout. “I’m going to bed. Good night.”
“I’m going to kill him,” Christine muttered, clutching her hair. “I am really going to kill him. There is a reason… ARGH!”
“What? Damien’s right,” Sirius declared, leaning back and putting his boots on the table. “Just because someone is a werewolf- which Stern obviously is-“
“No shit, Sherlock,” Alice muttered.
“-Doesn’t mean they’re automatically going over to Voldemort,” Sirius insisted, overriding Alice.
“Not you, too,” Christine sighed. “Look, there is a reason that Aurors are not supposed to associate with Dark Creatures, and Damien’s behavior right now is it.”
“What, afraid that Remus is corrupting him?” Sirius asked sarcastically. “Afraid his own son is seducing him over to the Dark Side?”
“No,” Christine responded curtly. “Afraid that he believes all werewolves are exactly like his son. Look, I don’t know Remus-“
“Well, I do and he’s-“
“But,” Christine continued, glaring at Sirius, “I’ve heard he’s exceptional. And by exceptional, I don’t only mean he’s a very gifted wizard, but he is not the norm for werewolves.”
“Well, that’s very narrow-minded.”
“No, Sirius, that’s practical.”
Sirius dropped his feet to the floor. “I’m tired,” he announced, grinding out the cigarette he’d been smoking. “See you tomorrow.”
He stomped away, ignoring Christine’s sputtered protest and Alice’s shocked expression.
Damien was just coming out of the washroom when Sirius stormed into the small room. “Everything all right?” he asked mildly.
“Yeah. Fine.” He began sorting through his things to get ready for bed. “What time are we supposed to meet Lichtenstein and Stern tomorrow?”
“Six A.M.” Damien was setting an alarm clock. “Have enough blankets?”
“I’ll be fine.” Sirius swept his things up and disappeared into the washroom. When he came out, Damien was already a blanket-coated lump in the bed, just the ends of his long hair peeking out. Sirius sighed heavily and laid down on the floor, pulling the blankets around him and wishing he could transform into a dog, or that he was home in his bed, Remus’s head on his shoulder and-
He turned over, trying to get comfortable on the wooden floor. He finally ended up on his back, arms crossed behind his head as he stared at the ceiling.
“Sirius?” Damien asked.
“Yeah?”
“Is Remus happy these days?”
“I think so.” I hope so. “Why?”
“I just need to know.”
“Yeah. He’s happy.”
“Good.”
“Mr. Lupin?”
“Yes?”
“I’m… I’m sorry. About sixth year.” Sirius wasn’t sure what prompted the confession, but instinctively he knew it was the right time to say it.
“I know you are. Good night, Sirius.”
“Good night.”
They were both still awake when the alarm clock went off five hours later.
***
“Remus, can you hand me that scalpel, please?”
“The small one?”
“Yes. Yes, good. Oh, now this is interesting! See here, where the frontal lobe is fused to the rest of the brain? I’ve never seen that configuration before.”
Remus looked over Caradoc’s shoulder with interest. “Have you ever actually dissected a quintaped before?”
“No. This is actually the first time it’s been done. They’re very resistant to study, you see. Can you sketch- oh, good. You’ve already started. You have a much steadier hand than I ever would have expected, but I should know by now, shouldn’t I? You sketch the brain, and I’ll start on the muscle structure in the leg.”
A companionable silence settled over them as they worked. It was warm and comfortable in the small lab with the lamps flickering cheerfully and the scratching of quills on parchment. Outside the streetlight threw golden patterns onto wet pavement splattered with autumn leaves.
“I’m surprised you aren’t out courting a young lady on a Friday night,” Caradoc said eventually. “Most young men would be.”
“Well, James and Peter are,” Remus admitted. “I don’t have a young lady to court, and Sirius is off in Turkey. What about you? Are you married?”
“Not at all.”
“If I can ask, why not?”
“I’ve written books on kappas and lobalugs, given talks on mokes, and I know more about quintapeds and grindeylows than just about any wizard living. But I can not figure out those creatures called women at all.”
Remus chuckled. “Is it lonely?”
“Not at all! In fact, with my work and my travel, it’s actually best if I-“
The shattering of glass cut him off, and both of them dove under the table as the lights of the lab went dark. “What was that?” Remus asked.
“Stay there,” Caradoc said.
“I can-“ Remus began crawling out from under the table.
“STAY THERE!” Caradoc ordered, all trace of addle-minded research wizard gone. Remus obeyed, crouching under the table and feeling like a child as he listened to the steady, careful beats of Caradoc’s footsteps.
“Lumos.”
From his hiding spot, Remus could see the shards of glass scattered across the floor, and every now and then Caradoc’s feet crossed his vision. Caradoc was muttering incantations; Remus was surprised at how fast they came and how few of them were familiar to him. Most of them he’d learned in seventh year Defense Against the Dark Arts. He heard Caradoc grunt as he bent over, picking up the object that had been thrown through the window.
“Reparo,” Caradoc finally said, and like a film in reverse the glass reformed, although some pieces remained on the floor, crushed into powder under Caradoc’s boots.
“What was it?” Remus asked.
Silence.
“Caradoc?”
“I’m here.”
Remus crawled out from under the table, dusting off his knees. “What was it?” he repeated, and then stopped short as he saw what was on the table.
A brick, crudely streaked with silver and dried animal blood lay on the table. Next to it was a note, with a crude drawing of a man hanging from a noose.
The note said, “Die werewolf!”
***
The door of the flat opened on the seventh knock, and Remus thanked any deity that might be listening. The man at the door drew back in surprise.
“Lupin?”
“Sorry to burst in this late at night, Frank,” Remus began awkwardly, clutching his coat tighter around him.
“Is it… have you heard from Turkey?” Remus shook his head, shivering, and Frank finally stepped back. “I’m sorry. Come in.”
Remus entered the brightly lit flat with relief. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I know it’s late and all but-“
“Wait. This doesn’t have to do with the message I just got from Moody, does it?”
“What message?” Remus asked cagily.
“Houseguest coming, constant vigilance,” Frank recited, showing Remus a crumpled piece of parchment.
“Moody never wastes words,” Remus muttered. “But yes, he probably meant me. I’m really sorry, but-“
“No, it’s all right.” Frank took his coat and sent a drying charm at Remus, which was greatly appreciated. “What happened?” he asked, walking in towards the kitchen.
“It was just…” Remus trailed off lamely, following Frank into the kitchen. Frank rubbed at his eyes and then poured two glasses of whiskey.
“Remus, it’s two o’clock in the morning. Moody sends me this four word essay and you show up on my doorstep in the rain, nearly giving me a heart attack because I think something’s happened to Sirius and Alice and that’s what you’re here to tell me. Please tell me what’s going on so I can get you a blanket for the sofa and we can go to sleep. Now.”
“It was nothing,” Remus said, pride straightening his spine. “Some tosser threw a brick through the lab window with a note.”
Frank raised his eyebrows. “And the note said…?”
“Die, werewolf,” Remus muttered. “They couldn’t even compose a proper sentence. I mean, there are much more creative things that they could have-“
“So it was a death threat,” Frank said.
“It was a stupid, childish, scared-“
“Remus, it was a death threat.”
“It was a prank. A threat, I guess, but it’s nothing unusual. After I had to get my registration number tattooed on my arm I read up on the Holocaust and people have been doing this sort of thing to-“
“Remus,” Frank pushed a glass of whiskey into his hand, “it was a death threat.”
Remus closed his eyes. “It was a death threat.”
“They called the Aurors in for it?”
“Dearborn called his friend and fellow Order of the Phoenix member in for it,” Remus said dryly.
“Ah.”
Remus took a deep swallow of the whiskey Frank had poured for him. It helped. “Can you do me one favor?” he asked. “Well, one more favor?”
“What is it?”
“Don’t tell Sirius. Or my father.”
Frank nodded. “Advantages of this being Order business, not Auror business then. Come on and finish that up. It will help you sleep, and I’ve got an extremely comfortable sofa.”
***
Two days later and Istanbul was spread out beneath Sirius, a city of white stone mosques and blue water, flanked by Black Sea on either side with the Bosporous Strait running down the center. The globes and domes of the architecture were like nothing Sirius had ever seen. It was exotic and exciting; even the air smelled different as they soared into the city.
“We’ll have to check in with the Turkish Ministry,” Damien said. “And then Lichtenstein said he would meet us at the Begili tanymlyk Kurtyn Yatak.”
“The who-what-where now?” Sirius asked dryly.
“Don’t be rude,” Christine said, slapping him on the arm. “You’d better write that one down for us, Damien.”
The Turkish Ministry of Magic was set in a dingy alley, across from a store that sold cheap imitations of more luxurious rugs. They were shown into the Auror’s headquarters by short, olive-skinned wizard with a thick beard and riotously curly hair wearing saffron colored robes. “My name is Semih Altin,” he said when they arrived, settling across from them. “I am the Head of the Aurors here. I knew that I was to expect two Aurors…?” he said, raising his eyebrows.
“Damien Lupin and Christine Kinns,” Damien agreed. “We have two trainees with us: Sirius Black and Alice Fenwick.”
“I see.” Altin bowed slightly first to Sirius, then perfunctorily to Alice before directing his attention back to Damien. “I understand that you are looking for a fugitive from British law here?”
“Yes. Thomas Kimberton. He’s wanted in Britain for treason, conspiracy, and murder. Auror Augustus Lichtenstein and Samuel Stern from Austria have agreed to join us; they have information that may prove useful to us.”
“As do I.” Altin pulled a folder from his pile. “You will have to forgive some of the translations; we are pressed for time and I had a junior Auror write this, and I regret his English is not so good. But the facts should be correct; it is only the phrasing you will find amusing.”
“Thank you,” Damien said, accepting the folder. “Will any of your Aurors be able to assist us?”
“Not in the search, no. Kimberton has broken no laws in Turkey, and therefore we are not able to pursue him. However, should you require backup, please feel free to summon us immediately.”
“Thank you.”
“I have arranged for rooms for you in a small hotel two blocks away.”
“I thought we were to stay in one next door?” Christine asked.
Semih Altin raised his eyebrows. “When accepting help from those like Stern, one can never be too careful,” he said frostily. “I would not let it be known your plans have changed.”
Christine sighed. “Right. Damien, don’t even think about arguing and Sirius, keep your mouth shut. Mr. Altin, thank you.”
He nodded.
Damien pulled himself together. “Yes, thank you.”
“You are most welcome.”
“Of all the sexist, narrow minded, chauvinistic-“ Alice began sputtering as soon as they left the Ministry.
“Quiet,” Christine commanded absently. “That’s how this country is. Women come second, and speak only if spoken to. In fact,” she mused, “we might want to get ourselves some more appropriate clothing. I didn’t think about that.” She looked at the city information Altin had provided them with. “There’s a woman’s drapier two buildings down from where we’re staying. We’ll meet you back at the inn.”
“But it’s not right!” Alice protested as Christine dragged her away. “Women are-“
Christine stopped. “If you want to be an Auror,” she said clearly, turning so she faced Damien and Sirius as well, “you need to remember not everyone thinks the way you do. And you need to work with that. Understand?”
“Subtle, that woman is,” Sirius muttered as they made their way to the inn that Altin had arranged for them. “If you ask me, it’s Altin we can’t trust, not Stern.”
Damien sighed. “Our best bet is not to trust anyone.” He and Sirius exchanged glances. “CONSTANT VILIGENCE!” they simultaneously roared in imitation.
They were both laughing when they arrived at the inn.
***
The words “Begili tanymlyk Kurtyn Yatak” were painted on a weathered wooden sign over the picture of a wolf. It made Sirius shiver a little, but he ignored it and went in anyway, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets and the picture of calm, cool, and collected.
Lichtenstein and Stern were waiting for them at a small table in the corner, and stood as Damien and Sirius approached. “The ladies are not with you?” Lichtenstein asked.
“Women,” Damien said with a grin. “Bring them into a new city and what’s the first thing they do?”
“Oh no. They’re shopping,” Stern laughed.
Damien shook his head. “We haven’t seen hide or hair of them since this morning.”
“Where did they go?” Lichtenstein asked. Sirius noticed suddenly his eyes glancing to the side, as if he was looking for someone.
“I’m not sure, but they mentioned something about appropriate clothing. Do you have any reports on Kimberton’s movements?”
“We do.” Lichtenstein handed Sirius a roll of message tube. “Don’t open it here,” he cautioned, “but that should help you. A list of places he’s been spotted, and a few contacts who might have more information.”
“Thank you.” Sirius slipped the tube into his pockets.
“Go find your women,” Stern advised. “And be careful. Kimberton’s on his guard.”
***
Five days. It had only been three days since Sirius left London, but it felt like so much longer.
He’d anticipated more scenes like in the club, when he and James and Remus and Peter had battled the Death Eaters. Instead, he found himself schlepping around Istanbul, meeting furtively in bars and alleys and the back rows of mosques, gathering puzzle pieces of information with as few whispered words as possible. Then there were nights of comparing information with Damien, Christine, and Alice, arguing over tidbits and discussing strategies. More often than not, Sirius curled up on the floor to snatch an hour or two of sleep with a splitting headache.
The blocks around the Ministry of Magic and their inn were becoming familiar, but most of Istanbul still seemed a whirl of color and light to Sirius. The language was unlike anything he’d ever heard, blunt and melodic at the same time, and completely foreign to his ears. Even mealtimes felt vaguely unfamiliar, constantly peppered with unfamiliar dishes that Sirius couldn’t even begin to accurately guess at the ingredients, and it was always a reminder that he was in a land he didn’t know or understand. That reminder was mostly thrilling, but at night when he walked briskly through the streets, or when he stood in front of the Blue Mosque and took a moment to admire the beauty of the architecture, it was lonely. He wished Peter was here to sample the restaurants, James to explore the dark alleys, and Remus just to be by his side as they walked through the city, admiring all that was different and comparing what they saw to home.
Coming as he did from the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Sirius had never known what it was to be truly homesick, and didn’t recognize the feeling for what it was. But those moments of loneliness were fleeting, coming in unexpected and short spurts and fading in the face of the work to be done.
The most disturbing of the leads came on a Thursday, as Sirius and Alice met a wizard in the gallery of mosaics in the Haghia Sophia. Alice was dressed in a more modest robe with a scarf wound over her head and hanging back, and even Sirius had abandoned his leather in favor of a more sedate outfit. The wizard they met would only identify himself as Orhan, and was a pale, nervous man who spoke with a heavy accent that was hard to understand.
“I saw Kimberton two days ago,” Orhan murmured to them as they pretended to gaze at a bright mosaic depicting a Muggle legend. “What concerns me is he was not alone. I think your friends in England are wrong when they say he has fled in fear. I think he has fled to find the Dark One more allies.”
“What makes you think that?” Sirius asked.
“This man, I saw him in a place that is called ‘Night Creatures’ in your language. It is a haven for those who are not human.”
“You’re sure?” Alice asked, cutting off anything Sirius might say.
“Of course. I was there to deliver nettle wine. I go there every other Tuesday, so I know the place. I do not ask questions; they do not like them. But the other day I saw the man you are looking for, and he was talking to three people in heavy cloaks. No skin was showing, and I heard someone say they were vampires.”
“Has he been there before?”
“I do not know. That is the first time I’ve seen him. But I only go on Tuesdays, to deliver the wine.”
“We should go there,” Alice insisted as they made their way back to the inn. “We should stake the place out and keep an eye out for him. Sirius, I’ll bet what this Orhan person was getting at is right, and Kimberton only made it look like he ran. I’ll bet he’s here in Turkey rounding up Dark Creatures as allies for You-Know-Who.”
“All right. We’ll talk to Stern-“
“No.”
“No?” he stopped and wheeled about to face her. “Why not?”
“Sirius, I don’t trust him.”
He pressed his lips together tightly, willing the hot, angry words down. “Look, just because he’s a werewolf doesn’t mean that he’s automatically going to go over to Voldemort.”
“No, you’re right. But Sirius, I’ve been researching the laws in other countries on werewolf restrictions. Except for Transylvania and Romania, most of the Ministries make Britain look like a model of werewolf support. I mean, in Czechoslovakia, they snap your wand if you’re bitten. In Austria, werewolves are required to undergo sterilization procedures to keep them from reproducing. And in Spain, werewolves are required by law to tell employers that they are werewolves! Sirius, if I was a werewolf in one of those countries and someone came along offering me the right to just exist as a witch, I’m not so sure I wouldn’t take it!”
“No you wouldn’t!”
“You don’t know that! For crying out loud, Sirius, you have no idea what it is like to be restrained like that!”
“And you do?” he asked sarcastically.
“I’ve got a better idea of it than you do,” Alice said. “Think about it. My marks were better in school. I received eight N.E.W.T.s to Frank’s seven, and one of those was Transfiguration, which Frank has trouble with. I’m in better shape than he is, and I’m better at Stealth and Concealment already than he’ll ever be. But who got taken on first as an Auror? Frank. And why? My family is just as pureblood as his, our fathers both work in the Ministry, and we’re the same age. Frank got taken on first because he is a man, and for no other reason!”
“Oh come on. That’s-“
“And here in Turkey! We’ve only been here a few days, but no one listens when I speak! I can’t wear my own clothes, I can’t go into certain places in the mosques, and when Christine and I join you in the pubs people stare at us! And we have to keep our eyes down and pretend we’re under your protection just because we’re women!” Alice’s face was flushed. “But you, you’re the son of a rich pureblood magical family and a man, and a whole human! You have no idea what it’s like to be discriminated against!”
“Which is exactly why I’m a disowned runaway who’s afraid to tell his very best friend he’s gay,” Sirius reminded her.
Alice rolled her eyes. “Look, my point is that when we talk about werewolves, we’re not just talking about Remus, okay? Keep it in your head that just because you trust Remus doesn’t mean you should trust every Dark Creature that comes across your path.”
“I still don’t see it in Stern. He wouldn’t betray us.”
Alice shook her head. “It’s not betrayal if you saw it coming.”
***
It was Friday night again, and Remus was lonely and bored. Caradoc had left early to meet Moody for a steak and a drink at the Leaky Cauldron. Sirius was still in Turkey. Peter was with Tina. James was up in Ballycastle, with a Quidditch game tomorrow. Even going home and spending quality time with his parents was out; his father was in Turkey with Sirius and his mother had flown to America for a conference. (And besides, who spent quality time with their parents on a Friday night? Ugh.) He didn’t want to impose on Frank; Frank had been nice enough to let Remus stay with him last weekend until Moody decided it was safe for Remus to return to his own flat, but… but. There was always a but.
“Remus?”
He jumped, spinning wildly, until he saw Lily’s head in the fireplace.
“Lily! What… I’m sorry, you just scared me. I didn’t expect anyone to call.” He dropped down to his knees to be on level with her.
“Sorry about that. Listen, I know this is kind of last minute and everything, but what are you doing tonight?”
“Absolutely nothing. You?”
“The same. Want to have dinner and do absolutely nothing together?”
“Sure,” he said, surprised and a little embarrassed he hadn’t even thought of Lily. “When are you off?”
“Right now. Step on through?”
He did, finding himself in the next minute spinning to a stop in the lobby of St. Mungo’s. The welcome witch and a bored wizard at check in waved to him. “I’m getting a little too well known here, aren’t I?” he asked Lily.
She giggled. “Caradoc’s a legend,” she said. “Please tell me you could really go for a nice curry tonight. I’m craving it.”
“Craving?” Remus asked with arched eyebrows. “Are you telling me that James may get his Christmas wedding after all?”
Lily smacked him on the arm. “Brute. No, I’ll have you know. Mr. James Potter will be waiting for the wedding night to deflower this lily.”
“God, that pun was almost worthy of Sirius,” Remus said, cringing. “Make another one like that and we’ll be headed straight for Chinese instead of Indian.”
They laughed together and left the hospital, heading a little restaurant on the corner near St. Mungo’s. It was bright with garish paint, paper lanterns and a rainbow of tablecloths.
This was what it felt like to be James. This was what it felt like to have a pretty girl sitting across from him at a dinner table, and a waiter fawning over what she seemed to think was young love. He and Lily laughed about it, but neither of them disabused the waiter of the notion, either. This was what if felt like to be normal, and Remus didn’t want the night to end.
“Do you want to go to the cinema?” he asked Lily when they had paid the bill and left the restaurant. “We could catch a late show.”
“All right.” Lily’s smile was wide and easy.
They walked together through the dark streets, Lily taking Remus’s arm companionably as she pulled her robes tighter around her shoulders to ward off the cold. The streets grew darker as they made their way through a less populated part of town, and instinctively Remus drew Lily a little closer. She laughed at him, but he also noticed that she yielded to the gesture.
The wind blew cold against the back of Remus’s neck, and a sixth sense warned him a fraction of a second before he saw them.
Death Eaters, standing in front of them, robed in black with cold hard eyes glinting out of the holes of masks.
Remus and Lily turned to run the other way, crashing into each other as they spun. A hand caught Remus by the arm, squeezing down vice-like as he was pushed and herded into an alley, his arms held tight by a grip too strong to break.
Just an alley somewhere in London, strewn with generic garbage and permeated with a rancid stench.
“Well, well, well,” one of the Death Eaters said, his voice muffled by the mask but clear in its mocking. “What have we here? A Mudblood and a half-breed. What a charming couple.”
Don’t panic, Remus told himself, as he had so many times before. Don’t panic. They are wizards behind those masks. Plain, ordinary wizards.
One of the Death Eaters reached out, cupping Lily’s chin and turning her face towards him. “It’s proof that Mudbloods aren’t worth the oxygen they breathe,” he said. “This one belongs to a pureblood, and look at the gratitude she’s giving him. Cheating on him with werewolf scum.”
“What makes you think I belong to a pureblood?” Lily demanded. “Or that he’s a werewolf?”
The movement was so sharp Remus almost didn’t register it; he just heard the crack of a hand against flesh and Lily cry out, and then saw her spit blood. “We know,” the Death Eater said simply. “We know who you are. And your Apparation efforts won’t help,” he continued, his voice blurred with smug glee. “It is a simple matter to make an alley inApperable when you have power such as the Dark Lord provides.”
“Let us go,” Remus said, scowling to hide the trembling in his voice. “Now.”
“I don’t think so,” the lead Death Eater said.
Now. Go now, before they get too organized… Remus stomped on the foot of the Death Eater holding him.
The alley erupted into chaos. Remus fumbled for his wand, his hands slipping in his haste. This wasn’t like that attack in the club, where they had been balanced seven to four. This was eleven to two, and the intent was far more malicious.
Lily screamed.
He spun around, wand finally in hand, firing a hex at the Death Eater that pinned her against the wall. The Death Eater fell away, but another caught Remus’s arm and a third pushed him to the ground. The captured arm wrenched, and a boot connected with the side of his head and he saw stars.
There was a bang that shook the windows above them, and Remus breathed relief that Lily was anything but the damsel-in-distress type. He couldn’t tell how many Death Eaters fell, but there had to have been at least two. Three down. He clambered to his feet, making it partway up before his face connected with the filthy pavement and a blow caught his ribcage. He swallowed hard against the bile rising in his throat.
Lily screamed again, and this time there was a desperation in her voice that shredded his heart and drove him to forget his own pain and struggle again. But even as he fought frantically, two Death Eaters pointed their wands at him.
“Crucio!”
Lily’s screams were drowned out and he didn’t know what had happened to her and he didn’t care because fire ripped along each nerve and- OH GOD NO-- he was going to die. No, worse, he was going to live and this pain was going to torment him for the rest of his life as his back arched and his arms and legs convulsed and a gargled scream ripped out of his throat and the world faded down until it was only him and red-hot, no, white-hot pain. He tried to think, and somewhere on the edge of his mind he knew he had to help Lily and he thought of James and he begged for Peter and longed for Sirius and wanted his parents, but those were shadows that flitted across the unbearable agony. It came in waves and the tiny part of his brain that could still think told him that the curse had been cast more than once. He had no idea if it was seconds or hours that passed, only that his throat was screamed raw.
The pain finally began to lessen and the world came back into focus, slowly, as if one were tuning a radio. He heard harsh laughter and muffled sobbing, smelled the tang of blood and the acrid scent of scorched hair. Slowly his limbs became his own again, and he was conscious of the smooth wood of his wand still clutched in his hand. The sky above them was clear and cold, with stars winking down and watching it all.
Remus began to sit up, every limb protesting in agony, and every fiber of his being fighting it as he remembered. He had to get to Lily.
“You don’t know when to stay down, do you werewolf?” His body was flung back; by magic or by force he couldn’t tell. He flipped over, only to confront a wand pointed directly at him.
“Avada Kedavra!”
A faint burst of green light flashed, and Remus was flung to the ground, nose bleeding profusely and sick to his stomach, but alive and capable. He scrambled to his feet and fired an Incendio at the Death Eater that had tried to kill him, an Incarcerous at another one nearby, and a good hard kick to the knee followed by a knee to the stomach at a third. His body was swept with an anger and a power like he’d rarely known, and he was no longer conscious of what he was saying or what punches he threw, only of the shouts and the contact of flesh against flesh.
He was brought back to himself when his hand closed around Lily’s slim wrist, and he pulled her with him as he stumbled out of the alleyway. Her wand was still clutched in her hand and he knew it had been used as well as his own, but neither of them stopped to look back to see what damage was done.
“Wormtail’s house,” he gasped to her. “They won’t look for us there.”
She nodded and they Apparated, and suddenly the alley was gone. The room was warm, with a fire burning and low lights chasing shadows into their corners. Remus breathed deeply, especially as Lily appeared beside him with a crack.
“ARGH!” Peter Pettigrew sat up, pulling a blanket over himself and Tina. “Don’t you two knock?”
Remus’s mind whispered normally he’d laugh and make some remark about catching Peter with his pants down, or perhaps give them marks on their performance. But tonight he stood by the fire trembling until blood from a cut on his forehead trickled into his eye, stinging him back to action.
“Sorry, Peter. Tina. We ran into- we…” he sighed. “We needed to run.”
“Oh Merlin, what happened to you?” Peter asked as he shrank back into the couch.
Remus shook his head, pinching his nose to stop the bleeding.
Tina stood up. “I’ll go get some medical supplies,” she said calmly, pulling the blanket around her. Remus looked down at the floor and found a pair of trousers. He handed them to Peter, who pulled them on gratefully.
“Can you contact Moody?” Remus asked.
“What do I tell him?”
“Lily and I were attacked by Death Eaters. Eleven of them, if I counted right. They seemed to know who we were.”
“All right.” Peter nodded. “If you two want, you can go into the kitchen. I’ll send Tina in a moment, all right? Right. I’ll Floo Moody right away.”
Remus took Lily’s hand and led her into the kitchen. The kitchen was brightly lit and cheery, with a split oak table that Remus remembered from visits during the Hogwarts days. Then he could put it off no longer, and he turned to face Lily.
Her left eye was already blackening, and blood from a cut on her forehead streaked her face. Her jaw was swollen and her lip was split, her long red hair mussed and tangled. Her robes were torn and bloody, and singed in one spot.
But all that was nothing next to the pain in her eyes.
All evening Remus had had the nagging sensation of wishing he was James and feeling like he was living an evening in James’s life. He’d wanted to be normal: not a werewolf, not gay, not… not Remus. But right now, when Lily looked at him helplessly, he was glad he wasn’t James, or Sirius, or Peter, or anyone he’d ever known. He was glad he was Remus Lupin, Friend of Lily Evans.
He wrapped his arms around her, not a werewolf or a prefect or a marauder or any other identity that she knew him by, just as a man. And in his arms she began to cry. She wasn’t the headstrong Head Girl or James’s fiancée or Order Member… just a woman that was sobbing against his neck, devastated. He held her tight and rocked her gently, smoothing the wild red hair and kissing her head in comfort that he knew only went skin deep.
Tina came in silently, depositing the first aid kit Mrs. Pettigrew kept on hand for household emergencies. Remus drew away from Lily, opening the kit and finding what he needed.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly as he sat her down and knelt at her feet, potion-soaked rag in hand.
“Are you?” she asked wryly. “I heard you screaming…”
“Cruciatus,” he admitted, cringing even as he said it. The memory of the pain rose in his mind, turning his stomach again and he forced it down, telling himself it was no worse than the pain of transformation every month. “Did they…”
“Not Cruciatus,” Lily said, her voice wavering.
Remus put the rag down and cupped Lily’s cheek. “I know not Cruciatus,” he whispered. “Lily, did they… did they do something else?”
She began to cry again, really cry. No ladylike tears or the moderated sobs of earlier, but raw, unfettered grief as she clutched at his back and her tears soaked his neck. Over her shoulder he saw Peter standing in the doorway, watching them both with wide eyes. “Should I use Sedatio on her?” Peter mouthed.
Remus shook his head.
Eventually the tears began to ebb, and Lily pulled herself away from Remus, wiping at her face. He offered her a handkerchief, and as she tended to her nose her eyes grew harder and more alert.
“Should we get you to St. Mungo’s?” he asked.
“No. I think we have what we need here.” She snuffled, neglecting the handkerchief and wiping her nose on her sleeve and her cheeks on her bare hands. “Let’s take a look at you.”
“Lily, did they…?”
“No,” she said, not looking Remus in the eye. She cupped his face and tilted it up to the light. “You’ve got a nasty cut here, but that should be easy to heal.”
“Lily-“
“Remus, they didn’t. I want you to understand that right now. They did not do it. They came close- too close- but we got away in time. Do you understand me? They. Didn’t. Do. It.”
Kneeling at Lily’s feet, Remus realized he was witnessing one of the most courageous acts he had ever seen. He knew in dark days ahead he would remember the strength of Lily Evans, and draw on it to be his own.
“I understand, Lily.”
Her eyes met his, and for a fleeting moment he thought she would break and the tears would begin again. But they didn’t, and incredibly she managed a smile. It was a watery, weak smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. “Promise me you understand.”
“I promise.”
She picked up his hand and linked their pinkies together, giving a bitter laugh at his confusion. “It’s something we used to do when we were little, me and Petunia, when we had secrets. It’s just a silly girl thing, a pinky promise. It just makes it more real.”
He clasped her hand in his and repeated the gesture, more firmly. “I understand, Lily. You’ve kept my secret, and I’ll keep yours. Pinky promise.”
***
It was late when Moody, Dumbledore, and Doge had left the house. Lily had fallen asleep on the sofa, and Remus couldn’t help but think someone (not to name names, but probably Moody) had slipped a Dreamless Sleep potion into her tea. Tina had left, saying she didn’t want to be in the way. Remus and Peter sat on the bed in Peter’s boyhood room, Remus with a blanket around his shoulders and an untouched cup of tea in his hands.
“Moody probably slipped the same stuff in here that he did in Lily’s,” he sighed, pushing the cup away.
“He did. I saw him do it,” Peter confirmed. “How long do you think it will take Prongs to get here?”
“Once they tell him, a matter of minutes, I’m sure.”
“Why does she want them to wait?” Peter asked. “I’d rather have thought… I mean, if it was Tina…”
“Time to get herself together is the best I can figure,” Remus sighed. For a moment, he’d thought of asking Moody to contact Sirius. But even before he’d opened his mouth he’d realized how stupid that sounded, even though he desperately wanted him here. “Or something like that.”
Peter nodded and drew his knees up to him, resting his chin on them. “Moony?”
“Mmm?”
“Did they really use Cruciatus on you?”
Remus pulled his blanket closer around him. “Yes.”
“What did it feel like?”
He shivered again. “Like nothing I ever felt,” he said in a flat, dead voice. “It was unbearable. I wanted to die, it was that bad. I think I tried to beg them just to kill me, I don’t remember. It didn’t come out anyway. I couldn’t form words. It was worse…” his voice faltered and broke, and he swallowed, staring at the white wall across from him. “It was worse than a transformation.” He drew his knees up and buried his head in the hollow they made. “Why do I feel like I’ll feel it again before I’m done?”
“You will,” Peter predicted quietly. He sounded calm, but when Remus looked up he could see that Peter was shaking.
“You okay?” he asked, laying a hand on Peter’s shoulder.
Peter laughed bitterly. “I should be asking you. Drink your tea, Remus. You need your sleep.”
Remus drank his tea.
Continued here
Anyway.
Title: Accidentally In Love Part 5
Pairing: Sirius/Remus
Disclaimer: Not mine. No money.
Rating: R. I rated this an R more for an implied rape. The rape does not take place between Sirius and Remus, is not detailed, and the fall out will not be addressed from the victim's point of view by me, although it is important. (If someone gets bitten by the plot bunny though, and wants to deal with it, please let me know!)
Part V- Realities
The Dragon Rider Pub had a “Closed” sign hanging on the door, but twenty six wizards and witches were inside regardless, scattered in groups around the tables and bar. Laughter hung over the crowd, and the atmosphere was charged with camaraderie.
“It’s a beautiful ring, Lily,” Remus said, examining her outstretched hand. Beside her, James beamed with pride. “Have you set a date yet?”
“We’re thinking in the spring,” Lily said. “James wanted Christmas, but-“
“Christmas!” Peter protested, eyes wide. “That’s less than two months away!”
“Exactly,” Lily twinkled. “How can you plan a proper wedding in two months, I ask you?” She lifted the butterbeer to her lips and took a sip. “It’s just not possible.”
“What’s to plan?” James asked. “You, me, a few people, a few sandwiches, a pair of rings and boom! We’re married.”
Lily rolled her eyes at Remus, who stifled his snicker behind his hand. Personally, he agreed fully with James. But Remus Lupin hadn’t lived to the ripe old age of eighteen without learning some things. He tactfully kept his mouth shut.
“Where’s Sirius, by the way?” Peter asked, twirling his own beer bottle between his hands.
“He owled and said he’d be late,” James answered. “I don’t see any of the Aurors here yet, actually.”
“He said they had a late meeting,” Remus couldn’t resist saying, just to shut up the twinge of irrational jealousy he felt when James mentioned the owl. “Something with Crouch.”
“Oh.” Peter lost interest. “I have to say, Fabian’s got a really nice place here. I like it better than the Leaky Cauldron.”
“Me too,” Remus agreed.
The Dragon Rider Pub that the Order was gathering in was much smaller than the Leaky Cauldron. The tables were heavy oak, scratched with the initials and names of otherwise anonymous wizards. Bottles of liquor- both Muggle and wizard- reflected the dim light, and to Remus’s delight there were two snooker tables in the back.
“What’s that you’re drinking?” Lily asked, sniffing the glass and making a face.
“Jack Daniels. Muggle whiskey or bourbon or something like that.”
“It smells like shoe polish,” Lily opined.
Remus lifted his glass to her.
“Has Tina given any more thought to joining the Order?” James asked Peter.
Peter shook his head. “No. Her job is keeping her too busy. Did I tell you guys she got taken on to be an Obliviator?”
“No. Good for her.” James tried to sound enthusiastic, but they all knew he considered working in the Ministry a fate more boring than History of Magic classes. “How’s your job going, Remus?”
“Not bad. I’ve only been to St. Mungo’s once more, and that was when Poky- I really wish he’d would get rid of that thing- bit Caradoc. I really hate that little bugger. We might-“
“Hey,” James interrupted, “here comes Padfoot.” Remus turned in his seat to see the door opening and Sirius entering with a gust of wind and two fellow Aurors.
“Afternoon, mates,” Sirius said, swinging his leg over the bench and plopping down beside Remus. “You all met Alice and Frank last time, right?”
Remus hadn’t, although Sirius had been talking about Alice enough. Enough that it could make a more insecure bloke jealous, and from the look on Frank’s face as Alice and Sirius teased each other, there was at least one insecure bloke here. Remus caught his eye and smiled sympathetically at him.
“Remus Lupin,” he said, extending his hand.
“Ah. You father’s Damien Lupin, right? I’m Frank Longbottom.” Frank took his hand firmly, looking Remus straight in the eyes.
Alice was more reticent. She knew exactly who and what he was, Remus could tell. He could see it in the way she drew in her breath and leaned back, just a little. She took his hand and shook it, but he noticed that she dropped it quickly. He’d expected this, he told himself ruefully. No, that wasn’t true; he’d expected worse. And she was trying. She knew what he was and she was trying, and that was more than he could say about most people. “Nice to meet you,” he said politely.
“Likewise.” Now that she had her hand back she relaxed and smiled. “So you’re the famous Remus Lupin.”
He spread his hands. “In the flesh.”
“Sirius has told me so much about you and it must be-“
Next to her, Sirius suddenly stiffened and his face paled, and in that gesture Remus knew. He’d told Alice far more than just that Remus was a werewolf. Alice- and logically, Frank- knew everything.
“It must be interesting working with Caradoc Dearborn.” Frank’s voice overrode Alice’s as he sat down across from Remus. “I’ve heard he’s absolutely brilliant, although I don’t know much about magical creatures, myself. I went in for Arithmancy and Muggle Studies. What sort of work do you do?”
Beside him, Remus could feel Sirius cringing. Wise move on his part, as Remus was ready to kill him. “We work mainly with amphibious and reptilian creatures,” Remus said, and began to explain their work. Frank seemed interested, until Peter made some comment that Remus couldn’t quite hear, and both Sirius and Alice burst into laughter, Alice’s hand on Sirius’s shoulder. The casual intimacy rankled in him, and Remus came to a sudden decision.
“Buy you a drink?” he offered. Next to him, Sirius tensed. Good.
“Sounds good,” Frank agreed with a wink. “Whatever you’re having.”
Fabian Prewett was two tables away, talking to Emmaline Vance. Remus flagged him down. “Two Jacks,” he said, flipping Fabian the money and then returning to face Frank. Sirius, he noticed, had relaxed, apparently deciding that Remus had no immediate plans to kill him. He was regaling Alice with “How Lily Rejected James, version forty-two.” Alice was leaning in, laughing, and the small fair unbiased not-ready-to-blow-at-Sirius’s-big-mouth part of Remus admitted she probably had no idea how she was flirting with Sirius. But screw that.
“I feel like I should be asking you ‘what’s your sign’,” Remus chuckled, swallowing the last of his whiskey. “This is something I’m not at all good at.”
Frank shook his head. “That’s always a start. How about ‘Do you come here often?’?”
“Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”
“Hey there, do you want to see something really swell?”
“Are you here to meet a nice man, or will I do?”
“I just wanted to show this rose how incredibly beautiful you are!”
Remus snorted. Under the table, Sirius’s hand landed possessively on his leg. “That’s terrible,” he said, pretending he didn’t notice the hand. “Hey, know how many bones are in the body?”
Frank’s face screwed up in concentration. “Two hundred and sixty five.”
“I can’t believe you knew that. Want one more?”
Frank was struggling to keep a straight face. “If I said you had a nice body, would you hold it against me?”
“You look tired,” Remus said. “Let me clean off a place for you to sit down.” He wiped his arm across his mouth.
“I’m not trying to pressure you,” Frank said. “I never have sex without mutual consent. Oh, by the way, you have my consent.”
Alice choked on her drink, and Sirius’s hand clenched around Remus’s thigh so tightly Remus thought he might have bruises. Remus sputtered with laughter. “Let’s go see about our drinks,” he said, inclining his head towards the bar. They walked side by side, shoulders brushing together for good measure.
“She’s going to kill me,” Frank said, half laughing and half serious as they leaned against the bar.
“Same here, I suppose,” Remus admitted, picking up the glass Fabian finally handed to him. “Maybe we went a little far, but….” A shrug was the only way he could finish the sentence.
Frank grimaced. “You know she’s wondering.”
“Is she?” Remus asked, surprised.
Frank took a deep swallow of his own whiskey. “Yeah.”
“Oh.”
Frank shrugged.
“Oh.” Remus really hated repeating himself like that. He glanced back over to where the others were sitting. Sirius was looking distinctly put out and Alice’s face was working in an odd way. “So Sirius told you,” Remus said, his voice stiff as he reminded himself why he wasn’t supposed to feel guilty.
“Well, no. The w-word is an open secret in the Auror office, because of your father. And the other one he told Alice, and she told me. I don’t think he thought about it.”
Remus sighed resignedly. “He never does.”
***
Sirius watched Remus and Frank through narrowed eyes. He didn’t like the way Frank put his hand on Remus’s arm, or the way Remus laughed at whatever Frank was saying. James noticed Sirius’s preoccupation and followed his gaze.
“That’s strange,” he said, the impressed tone of his voice grating on Sirius’s nerves. “I’ve never seen Moony warm up to anybody that quickly. It took him over a year to finally like Lily.”
“Try more like eight,” Lily pointed out. “We knew each other first year.”
“And he still doesn’t talk much to Tina,” Peter contributed.
“Yeah, well, Tina doesn’t talk much to Remus,” Lily said. “She’s never really liked him.”
“Really?” James and Sirius both turned to her. “Why?”
Lily shrugged, and Sirius made a mental note to get it out of her later. He glanced at Peter, but Peter wouldn’t meet his eye. He was about to comment when Dumbledore rose to speak and a hush automatically fell over the assembled Order.
“Thank you all for coming out tonight,” Dumbledore said. “I have very little news for the Order as a whole, which I find is a good thing to be saying. It means I have no casualties to report to you tonight.” There was a cheer. “Even better,” Dumbledore said smiling, “I can report that Edgar Bones is making excellent progress and should be released from the Spell Damage Ward of St. Mungo’s in two days.
“However, the enemy continues to grow in strength. While there have been no casualties in the Order itself, the Dark Mark has risen over thirteen homes this past month. We have had reports of Muggle-torture and harassment of Muggleborns, both by masked Death Eaters and Death Eater sympathizers. These harassments are not of an idle nature, and I must warn you that they shall continue to escalate.
“The Death Eaters have not suffered many losses, although the Aurors have arrested and proven the involvement of a few wizards and witches. Their greatest loss right now appears to be Thomas Kimberton, one of their best recruiting agents. We have just recently received information that he has fled to Eastern Europe. A team of Aurors will be leaving tomorrow to apprehend Kimberton.”
Sirius kicked James under the table, and pointed to himself, and then to Alice. James’s face lit up.
“Brilliant!” he mouthed at Sirius. He conjured a piece of parchment and a quill.
When do you leave? he scrawled.
-Tomorrow. Me, Fenwick, Lupin, and Kinns They think two weeks.
-You and Mr. Lupin are going on a mission together? Is that the best idea?
-He’s not so bad. I think he’s calmed down about things.
James poised the quill to write his response, but tucked the parchment away like a guilty schoolboy when Dumbledore’s eyes paused on them. Sirius snickered. James would never change. He himself met Dumbledore’s eyes, winked, and leaned back, putting his boots on the table.
Across the room he saw Remus restraining a laugh and grinned at him in return.
His grin didn’t last long, however. Dumbledore finished speaking, but Remus didn’t return to their table. He and Frank stayed at the bar talking animatedly, and Sirius kept losing the thread of conversation as he watched them, especially when Dumbledore approached them both. Remus was nodding solemnly and Frank was speaking, and across the table Sirius saw Alice’s eyes shooting fire as well.
Whatever game Remus was playing, Sirius didn’t like it at all.
***
“So you and Frank seemed to be getting along just fine,” Sirius not-quite-sneered, dropping onto his sofa. Remus wandered into the kitchen and helped himself to another glass of firewhiskey. Nothing was going right tonight.
“Sirius, just drop it, will you?” he demanded from the kitchen, suddenly very tired.
“I notice you managed to get an assignment together,” Sirius groused.
“Oh yes. An exciting, thrilling excitement translating a bunch of musty old scrolls Dumbledore’s dug up from some pit while you and Frank's fiancee brave danger at every turn.”
“Is that what this is about? You’re jealous?” Sirius asked incredulously.
“No. Frank’s jealous. I’m furious that you told Alice about us.” Remus corrected as he returned to the living room and handed Sirius a glass.
“Why? She was okay with it.”
“Which you found out after the fact,” Remus pointed out. “You had no idea how she would react.”
“But she was fine,” Sirius insisted.
Remus thought of the way Alice had dropped his hand so quickly. But then… he shook his head. “Sirius, you have to-“
“Remus, she was FINE!” Sirius’s voice rose to a shout.
Remus wanted to argue back. He wanted Sirius to see just how differently it could have gone. Alice and Frank were the exceptions, not the rule. And yet….
The Hogshead Inn flashed through his memory; the bitter taste of anxiety in his mouth.
Sirius must have sensed his hesitation. “You know,” he said quietly, “Alice is the first person I ever told. Except for you.”
The heartfelt words and Sirius’s sad expression cracked his resolve. Shouting suddenly seemed out of place. “It didn’t matter,” Sirius continued, “if she hated me for it.”
The light began to dawn. “You want to tell James.”
“No. I want to be able to tell James.”
All resistance crumpled. “I do too.” Remus sat down on the sofa next to Sirius, who draped an arm around his shoulders. “We could try telling Peter,” he suggested.
“That’s a non-starter. Wormtail’s even more hidebound than Prongs.”
“Really?”
Sirius nodded glumly. “Haven’t you noticed Peter only goes after pureblood girls?”
“He dated Emily Fairchild and now he’s with Tina Lovegood. That’s not a pattern.”
Sirius just shook his head. “He’d tell James anyway. You know he would.”
Remus couldn’t deny the truth of that.
“Besides,” Sirius said, his voice awkward. “What is there to tell?”
“Right,” Remus agreed, as Sirius’s arm tightened around him. “We’re not like James and Lily.”
“Or Alice and Frank.”
“Or Peter and Tina.”
“Or your parents.”
“We’re… us,” was the best definition Remus could come up with.
“Lovers,” Sirius decided carefully. “But not in love.”
“Exactly.”
“But you’d better not be sleeping Frank Longbottom while I’m gone.”
Remus laughed. “Give me one good reason why not,” he teased.
Sirius’s hands moving over him gave him many good reasons indeed.
***
“Moony?” Sirius asked later that night as they lay sated in bed, his head against Remus’s shoulder. “I have something to tell you.”
“Mmm?” Remus asked, still running his fingers through Sirius’s hair.
“That Death Eater that Dumbledore mentioned- Thomas Kimberton.”
“What about him?”
“I’m leaving tomorrow to go after him. I’ll be gone for at least two weeks, maybe more.” Remus was silent, waiting. “Your dad, Alice, Christine Kinns and me. We’re going to Turkey.”
“Oh.” The bitterness in Remus’s voice was almost palatable.
Sirius sighed and pushed up on one elbow. “You’re not jealous, are you? ‘Cause we just went over that and-“
“No,” Remus said, but his eyes didn’t meet Sirius’s.
“Don’t worry, either,” Sirius said. “I know it’s going to be dangerous-“
“Like that doesn’t make it all the more attractive to you,” Remus chuckled dryly.
“Okay, well, maybe. But you know me, I can take care of myself, and your dad really knows his shit.”
“I know.”
“We should be back in time for the full moon.”
“Okay.”
“And you’re still upset. Moony, what’s wrong?”
Remus sat up and fidgeted with the rug on the bed. “It’s stupid.”
“Tell me.”
“I’ve never seen Turkey before,” Remus said. “I’d like to.”
Oh. “Well, when this war is over, we’ll go there. You and me.”
Remus shook his head. “No we won’t, Sirius. The Ministry won’t let me.”
Right. Sirius had forgotten about that. “We’ll get around it. We’ll go anyway,” he insisted. “When the war’s over, we’ll find a way to travel the world together.”
Remus smiled sadly. “Just bring me back something good.”
***
Remus’s slim body is pressed back against his, water pounding down against them. The tiles are cold under his hands and forearms, his face is buried in the wet heat of Remus’s neck. Remus’s moans, endearingly more bold since they’d begun, bounce off the walls of the shower, echo in his ears, send trails of fire down his spine. Every thrust, every touch he swears to sear into his mind, although even seconds later the details begin to fade and it doesn’t matter, because he’s left with-
Left with the uncomfortable realization that an erection while riding a broomstick has got to be one of the most uncomfortable sensations on Earth.
Sirius shifted, trying to find a better position as well as a spot on his arse that hadn’t already been rubbed raw from a full day’s worth of flying. He flexed his fingers, once again cursing the fact he wasn’t allowed to bring the bike.
Alice was riding beside him, half focused on where she was flying and half focused on a paperback novel. Sirius had flown close enough to read the title once and had found ammunition for days of teasing: Broken Sunsets had to be a flowery romance novel. Ahead of them, Christine Kinns and Damien Lupin rode, both absurdly relaxed and fluid for the length of the trip and their age.
The landscape below them was at least different; the morning had been water, water, and more water. At least now there were villages and trees, variations in the colors and topography.
But still, it was bloody boring.
Damien dropped back in between Sirius and Alice, gesturing for their attention and pointing to a village they were approaching. Sirius sighed with relief and nodded, directing the broom into a gentle glide down to the village.
“Oi, but my bum is sore,” Christine said as they all dismounted. “Did we make it as far as Austria?”
“We’re in Leoben,” Damien confirmed. “There’s a wizarding inn here we can stay in. Not much to look at, but it will serve the purpose.”
Sirius looked around curiously. The smooth street was lined with houses standing shoulder to shoulder, painted a rainbow of pastel colors. It looked like a village in a children’s storybook- or at least a storybook found at James’s house.
“Here we are,” Damien said, pausing as a sign reading Trank-Vorlagenschutz appeared in front of them. “Excellent beer, from what I hear. Does anyone speak German?”
“I know a few words,” Sirius volunteered.
“Are any of them fit for polite company?”
“No.”
“Well then, there you have it,” Damien said, entering the inn. The others followed and waited as Damien had a short conversation with the old bent man behind the desk.
Damien sighed. “One room, two beds. I expect that’s going to be the case for the duration of this trip. Is that all right?”
Alice shrugged and Christine nodded. Sirius, not remotely an idiot and realizing this arrangement meant sharing a bed with Remus’s father, promptly spoke up. “Any chance of getting an extra blanket?” If he wasn’t mistaken, Damien almost laughed.
The room was cramped, with dark furnishings and deep red quilts on the bed. The brooms were tossed in a corner and Sirius dropped his own bag in a corner, wanting nothing more than to flop down and stretch out. “Remind me again, why couldn’t we just take a portkey?” he asked.
“Under cover this way,” Damien said. “Plus, there’s a few contacts along the route.”
“Under cover,” Alice muttered. “You touch a portkey and BAM! You’re there.”
Christine smiled. “True,” she said, rooting through a bag and finding a hairbrush. She pulled a few pins from her hair and began to comb it out. “But that sort of thing tends to generate a magical field. If someone’s looking for it, they’ll find it. And Kimberton is looking for it. What time are we meeting Lichtenstein?”
Damien glanced at his watch. “Twenty minutes. You two,” he said, pointing to Alice and Sirius. “Keep your mouths shut and your eyes open for trouble. I don’t think we’ll find it in Leoben, but when you’re an Auror, trouble has a way of finding you.”
***
Lichtenstein was a small, portly wizard that reminded Sirius intensely of Peter. He had narrow eyes, a receding hairline, and a hat that he compulsively wrung between his hands. He was accompanied by a tall, skinny wizard named Stern, who had the most ridiculous sideburns Sirius had ever seen.
“There’s been talk,” Lichtenstein said, leaning across his plate of pork schnitzel. “Furtive, but talk. Wizards are watching You-Know-Who and wondering. If he succeeds in taking Britain, it’s only a matter of time.”
“He is gathering allies,” Stern contributed in a smooth, impassible voice. “Hags, giants, goblins, warlocks, vampires, werewolves…”
Damien flinched.
“They flock to him, like moths to a flame. He offers the chance for them to feed their darker natures. Blood. Gold. Souls. And for those who are not tempted by such… indulgences… well, he finds their weakness.”
“Like rights,” Sirius said grimly. The corners of Damien’s mouth turned white.
“Exactly,” Stern said. “The situation of half-breeds and Dark Creatures is just as desperate in Austria, Spain, and France as it is in England, if not worse. Employment is rare. There are laws restricting marriage, offspring, magic, professions, living arrangements, associations, travel… if it is a part of life, it is restricted. Britain is not the first to require those of questionable blood to be marked.”
“And so Voldemort takes advantage of that,” Lichtenstein said, now running his fingers down his mug. “We cast them out and he takes them in.”
“Is it essentially unanimous?” Christine asked. “Are there dissidents?”
“There are a few,” Lichtenstein said, glancing sideways at Stern. “But many who do not flee to Voldemort do not defy him, either.”
“Most choose to hide,” Stern said scornfully. “They take no sides, and pray that they will never be forced to profess loyalty.”
“But not all,” Damien pressed.
“No,” Stern said significantly. “Not all.”
***
“I don’t like this,” Christine said late that night as they sat by the embers of the slowly dying fire. “I don’t like it at all.”
“What’s wrong?” Damien demanded.
“Stern. Don’t give me that look, Damien. Doge said nothing about Stern. Only Lichtenstein.”
“So Lichtenstein got some help. People do have friends.” Damien drained the last of his stout. “I’m going to bed. Good night.”
“I’m going to kill him,” Christine muttered, clutching her hair. “I am really going to kill him. There is a reason… ARGH!”
“What? Damien’s right,” Sirius declared, leaning back and putting his boots on the table. “Just because someone is a werewolf- which Stern obviously is-“
“No shit, Sherlock,” Alice muttered.
“-Doesn’t mean they’re automatically going over to Voldemort,” Sirius insisted, overriding Alice.
“Not you, too,” Christine sighed. “Look, there is a reason that Aurors are not supposed to associate with Dark Creatures, and Damien’s behavior right now is it.”
“What, afraid that Remus is corrupting him?” Sirius asked sarcastically. “Afraid his own son is seducing him over to the Dark Side?”
“No,” Christine responded curtly. “Afraid that he believes all werewolves are exactly like his son. Look, I don’t know Remus-“
“Well, I do and he’s-“
“But,” Christine continued, glaring at Sirius, “I’ve heard he’s exceptional. And by exceptional, I don’t only mean he’s a very gifted wizard, but he is not the norm for werewolves.”
“Well, that’s very narrow-minded.”
“No, Sirius, that’s practical.”
Sirius dropped his feet to the floor. “I’m tired,” he announced, grinding out the cigarette he’d been smoking. “See you tomorrow.”
He stomped away, ignoring Christine’s sputtered protest and Alice’s shocked expression.
Damien was just coming out of the washroom when Sirius stormed into the small room. “Everything all right?” he asked mildly.
“Yeah. Fine.” He began sorting through his things to get ready for bed. “What time are we supposed to meet Lichtenstein and Stern tomorrow?”
“Six A.M.” Damien was setting an alarm clock. “Have enough blankets?”
“I’ll be fine.” Sirius swept his things up and disappeared into the washroom. When he came out, Damien was already a blanket-coated lump in the bed, just the ends of his long hair peeking out. Sirius sighed heavily and laid down on the floor, pulling the blankets around him and wishing he could transform into a dog, or that he was home in his bed, Remus’s head on his shoulder and-
He turned over, trying to get comfortable on the wooden floor. He finally ended up on his back, arms crossed behind his head as he stared at the ceiling.
“Sirius?” Damien asked.
“Yeah?”
“Is Remus happy these days?”
“I think so.” I hope so. “Why?”
“I just need to know.”
“Yeah. He’s happy.”
“Good.”
“Mr. Lupin?”
“Yes?”
“I’m… I’m sorry. About sixth year.” Sirius wasn’t sure what prompted the confession, but instinctively he knew it was the right time to say it.
“I know you are. Good night, Sirius.”
“Good night.”
They were both still awake when the alarm clock went off five hours later.
***
“Remus, can you hand me that scalpel, please?”
“The small one?”
“Yes. Yes, good. Oh, now this is interesting! See here, where the frontal lobe is fused to the rest of the brain? I’ve never seen that configuration before.”
Remus looked over Caradoc’s shoulder with interest. “Have you ever actually dissected a quintaped before?”
“No. This is actually the first time it’s been done. They’re very resistant to study, you see. Can you sketch- oh, good. You’ve already started. You have a much steadier hand than I ever would have expected, but I should know by now, shouldn’t I? You sketch the brain, and I’ll start on the muscle structure in the leg.”
A companionable silence settled over them as they worked. It was warm and comfortable in the small lab with the lamps flickering cheerfully and the scratching of quills on parchment. Outside the streetlight threw golden patterns onto wet pavement splattered with autumn leaves.
“I’m surprised you aren’t out courting a young lady on a Friday night,” Caradoc said eventually. “Most young men would be.”
“Well, James and Peter are,” Remus admitted. “I don’t have a young lady to court, and Sirius is off in Turkey. What about you? Are you married?”
“Not at all.”
“If I can ask, why not?”
“I’ve written books on kappas and lobalugs, given talks on mokes, and I know more about quintapeds and grindeylows than just about any wizard living. But I can not figure out those creatures called women at all.”
Remus chuckled. “Is it lonely?”
“Not at all! In fact, with my work and my travel, it’s actually best if I-“
The shattering of glass cut him off, and both of them dove under the table as the lights of the lab went dark. “What was that?” Remus asked.
“Stay there,” Caradoc said.
“I can-“ Remus began crawling out from under the table.
“STAY THERE!” Caradoc ordered, all trace of addle-minded research wizard gone. Remus obeyed, crouching under the table and feeling like a child as he listened to the steady, careful beats of Caradoc’s footsteps.
“Lumos.”
From his hiding spot, Remus could see the shards of glass scattered across the floor, and every now and then Caradoc’s feet crossed his vision. Caradoc was muttering incantations; Remus was surprised at how fast they came and how few of them were familiar to him. Most of them he’d learned in seventh year Defense Against the Dark Arts. He heard Caradoc grunt as he bent over, picking up the object that had been thrown through the window.
“Reparo,” Caradoc finally said, and like a film in reverse the glass reformed, although some pieces remained on the floor, crushed into powder under Caradoc’s boots.
“What was it?” Remus asked.
Silence.
“Caradoc?”
“I’m here.”
Remus crawled out from under the table, dusting off his knees. “What was it?” he repeated, and then stopped short as he saw what was on the table.
A brick, crudely streaked with silver and dried animal blood lay on the table. Next to it was a note, with a crude drawing of a man hanging from a noose.
The note said, “Die werewolf!”
***
The door of the flat opened on the seventh knock, and Remus thanked any deity that might be listening. The man at the door drew back in surprise.
“Lupin?”
“Sorry to burst in this late at night, Frank,” Remus began awkwardly, clutching his coat tighter around him.
“Is it… have you heard from Turkey?” Remus shook his head, shivering, and Frank finally stepped back. “I’m sorry. Come in.”
Remus entered the brightly lit flat with relief. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I know it’s late and all but-“
“Wait. This doesn’t have to do with the message I just got from Moody, does it?”
“What message?” Remus asked cagily.
“Houseguest coming, constant vigilance,” Frank recited, showing Remus a crumpled piece of parchment.
“Moody never wastes words,” Remus muttered. “But yes, he probably meant me. I’m really sorry, but-“
“No, it’s all right.” Frank took his coat and sent a drying charm at Remus, which was greatly appreciated. “What happened?” he asked, walking in towards the kitchen.
“It was just…” Remus trailed off lamely, following Frank into the kitchen. Frank rubbed at his eyes and then poured two glasses of whiskey.
“Remus, it’s two o’clock in the morning. Moody sends me this four word essay and you show up on my doorstep in the rain, nearly giving me a heart attack because I think something’s happened to Sirius and Alice and that’s what you’re here to tell me. Please tell me what’s going on so I can get you a blanket for the sofa and we can go to sleep. Now.”
“It was nothing,” Remus said, pride straightening his spine. “Some tosser threw a brick through the lab window with a note.”
Frank raised his eyebrows. “And the note said…?”
“Die, werewolf,” Remus muttered. “They couldn’t even compose a proper sentence. I mean, there are much more creative things that they could have-“
“So it was a death threat,” Frank said.
“It was a stupid, childish, scared-“
“Remus, it was a death threat.”
“It was a prank. A threat, I guess, but it’s nothing unusual. After I had to get my registration number tattooed on my arm I read up on the Holocaust and people have been doing this sort of thing to-“
“Remus,” Frank pushed a glass of whiskey into his hand, “it was a death threat.”
Remus closed his eyes. “It was a death threat.”
“They called the Aurors in for it?”
“Dearborn called his friend and fellow Order of the Phoenix member in for it,” Remus said dryly.
“Ah.”
Remus took a deep swallow of the whiskey Frank had poured for him. It helped. “Can you do me one favor?” he asked. “Well, one more favor?”
“What is it?”
“Don’t tell Sirius. Or my father.”
Frank nodded. “Advantages of this being Order business, not Auror business then. Come on and finish that up. It will help you sleep, and I’ve got an extremely comfortable sofa.”
***
Two days later and Istanbul was spread out beneath Sirius, a city of white stone mosques and blue water, flanked by Black Sea on either side with the Bosporous Strait running down the center. The globes and domes of the architecture were like nothing Sirius had ever seen. It was exotic and exciting; even the air smelled different as they soared into the city.
“We’ll have to check in with the Turkish Ministry,” Damien said. “And then Lichtenstein said he would meet us at the Begili tanymlyk Kurtyn Yatak.”
“The who-what-where now?” Sirius asked dryly.
“Don’t be rude,” Christine said, slapping him on the arm. “You’d better write that one down for us, Damien.”
The Turkish Ministry of Magic was set in a dingy alley, across from a store that sold cheap imitations of more luxurious rugs. They were shown into the Auror’s headquarters by short, olive-skinned wizard with a thick beard and riotously curly hair wearing saffron colored robes. “My name is Semih Altin,” he said when they arrived, settling across from them. “I am the Head of the Aurors here. I knew that I was to expect two Aurors…?” he said, raising his eyebrows.
“Damien Lupin and Christine Kinns,” Damien agreed. “We have two trainees with us: Sirius Black and Alice Fenwick.”
“I see.” Altin bowed slightly first to Sirius, then perfunctorily to Alice before directing his attention back to Damien. “I understand that you are looking for a fugitive from British law here?”
“Yes. Thomas Kimberton. He’s wanted in Britain for treason, conspiracy, and murder. Auror Augustus Lichtenstein and Samuel Stern from Austria have agreed to join us; they have information that may prove useful to us.”
“As do I.” Altin pulled a folder from his pile. “You will have to forgive some of the translations; we are pressed for time and I had a junior Auror write this, and I regret his English is not so good. But the facts should be correct; it is only the phrasing you will find amusing.”
“Thank you,” Damien said, accepting the folder. “Will any of your Aurors be able to assist us?”
“Not in the search, no. Kimberton has broken no laws in Turkey, and therefore we are not able to pursue him. However, should you require backup, please feel free to summon us immediately.”
“Thank you.”
“I have arranged for rooms for you in a small hotel two blocks away.”
“I thought we were to stay in one next door?” Christine asked.
Semih Altin raised his eyebrows. “When accepting help from those like Stern, one can never be too careful,” he said frostily. “I would not let it be known your plans have changed.”
Christine sighed. “Right. Damien, don’t even think about arguing and Sirius, keep your mouth shut. Mr. Altin, thank you.”
He nodded.
Damien pulled himself together. “Yes, thank you.”
“You are most welcome.”
“Of all the sexist, narrow minded, chauvinistic-“ Alice began sputtering as soon as they left the Ministry.
“Quiet,” Christine commanded absently. “That’s how this country is. Women come second, and speak only if spoken to. In fact,” she mused, “we might want to get ourselves some more appropriate clothing. I didn’t think about that.” She looked at the city information Altin had provided them with. “There’s a woman’s drapier two buildings down from where we’re staying. We’ll meet you back at the inn.”
“But it’s not right!” Alice protested as Christine dragged her away. “Women are-“
Christine stopped. “If you want to be an Auror,” she said clearly, turning so she faced Damien and Sirius as well, “you need to remember not everyone thinks the way you do. And you need to work with that. Understand?”
“Subtle, that woman is,” Sirius muttered as they made their way to the inn that Altin had arranged for them. “If you ask me, it’s Altin we can’t trust, not Stern.”
Damien sighed. “Our best bet is not to trust anyone.” He and Sirius exchanged glances. “CONSTANT VILIGENCE!” they simultaneously roared in imitation.
They were both laughing when they arrived at the inn.
***
The words “Begili tanymlyk Kurtyn Yatak” were painted on a weathered wooden sign over the picture of a wolf. It made Sirius shiver a little, but he ignored it and went in anyway, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets and the picture of calm, cool, and collected.
Lichtenstein and Stern were waiting for them at a small table in the corner, and stood as Damien and Sirius approached. “The ladies are not with you?” Lichtenstein asked.
“Women,” Damien said with a grin. “Bring them into a new city and what’s the first thing they do?”
“Oh no. They’re shopping,” Stern laughed.
Damien shook his head. “We haven’t seen hide or hair of them since this morning.”
“Where did they go?” Lichtenstein asked. Sirius noticed suddenly his eyes glancing to the side, as if he was looking for someone.
“I’m not sure, but they mentioned something about appropriate clothing. Do you have any reports on Kimberton’s movements?”
“We do.” Lichtenstein handed Sirius a roll of message tube. “Don’t open it here,” he cautioned, “but that should help you. A list of places he’s been spotted, and a few contacts who might have more information.”
“Thank you.” Sirius slipped the tube into his pockets.
“Go find your women,” Stern advised. “And be careful. Kimberton’s on his guard.”
***
Five days. It had only been three days since Sirius left London, but it felt like so much longer.
He’d anticipated more scenes like in the club, when he and James and Remus and Peter had battled the Death Eaters. Instead, he found himself schlepping around Istanbul, meeting furtively in bars and alleys and the back rows of mosques, gathering puzzle pieces of information with as few whispered words as possible. Then there were nights of comparing information with Damien, Christine, and Alice, arguing over tidbits and discussing strategies. More often than not, Sirius curled up on the floor to snatch an hour or two of sleep with a splitting headache.
The blocks around the Ministry of Magic and their inn were becoming familiar, but most of Istanbul still seemed a whirl of color and light to Sirius. The language was unlike anything he’d ever heard, blunt and melodic at the same time, and completely foreign to his ears. Even mealtimes felt vaguely unfamiliar, constantly peppered with unfamiliar dishes that Sirius couldn’t even begin to accurately guess at the ingredients, and it was always a reminder that he was in a land he didn’t know or understand. That reminder was mostly thrilling, but at night when he walked briskly through the streets, or when he stood in front of the Blue Mosque and took a moment to admire the beauty of the architecture, it was lonely. He wished Peter was here to sample the restaurants, James to explore the dark alleys, and Remus just to be by his side as they walked through the city, admiring all that was different and comparing what they saw to home.
Coming as he did from the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Sirius had never known what it was to be truly homesick, and didn’t recognize the feeling for what it was. But those moments of loneliness were fleeting, coming in unexpected and short spurts and fading in the face of the work to be done.
The most disturbing of the leads came on a Thursday, as Sirius and Alice met a wizard in the gallery of mosaics in the Haghia Sophia. Alice was dressed in a more modest robe with a scarf wound over her head and hanging back, and even Sirius had abandoned his leather in favor of a more sedate outfit. The wizard they met would only identify himself as Orhan, and was a pale, nervous man who spoke with a heavy accent that was hard to understand.
“I saw Kimberton two days ago,” Orhan murmured to them as they pretended to gaze at a bright mosaic depicting a Muggle legend. “What concerns me is he was not alone. I think your friends in England are wrong when they say he has fled in fear. I think he has fled to find the Dark One more allies.”
“What makes you think that?” Sirius asked.
“This man, I saw him in a place that is called ‘Night Creatures’ in your language. It is a haven for those who are not human.”
“You’re sure?” Alice asked, cutting off anything Sirius might say.
“Of course. I was there to deliver nettle wine. I go there every other Tuesday, so I know the place. I do not ask questions; they do not like them. But the other day I saw the man you are looking for, and he was talking to three people in heavy cloaks. No skin was showing, and I heard someone say they were vampires.”
“Has he been there before?”
“I do not know. That is the first time I’ve seen him. But I only go on Tuesdays, to deliver the wine.”
“We should go there,” Alice insisted as they made their way back to the inn. “We should stake the place out and keep an eye out for him. Sirius, I’ll bet what this Orhan person was getting at is right, and Kimberton only made it look like he ran. I’ll bet he’s here in Turkey rounding up Dark Creatures as allies for You-Know-Who.”
“All right. We’ll talk to Stern-“
“No.”
“No?” he stopped and wheeled about to face her. “Why not?”
“Sirius, I don’t trust him.”
He pressed his lips together tightly, willing the hot, angry words down. “Look, just because he’s a werewolf doesn’t mean that he’s automatically going to go over to Voldemort.”
“No, you’re right. But Sirius, I’ve been researching the laws in other countries on werewolf restrictions. Except for Transylvania and Romania, most of the Ministries make Britain look like a model of werewolf support. I mean, in Czechoslovakia, they snap your wand if you’re bitten. In Austria, werewolves are required to undergo sterilization procedures to keep them from reproducing. And in Spain, werewolves are required by law to tell employers that they are werewolves! Sirius, if I was a werewolf in one of those countries and someone came along offering me the right to just exist as a witch, I’m not so sure I wouldn’t take it!”
“No you wouldn’t!”
“You don’t know that! For crying out loud, Sirius, you have no idea what it is like to be restrained like that!”
“And you do?” he asked sarcastically.
“I’ve got a better idea of it than you do,” Alice said. “Think about it. My marks were better in school. I received eight N.E.W.T.s to Frank’s seven, and one of those was Transfiguration, which Frank has trouble with. I’m in better shape than he is, and I’m better at Stealth and Concealment already than he’ll ever be. But who got taken on first as an Auror? Frank. And why? My family is just as pureblood as his, our fathers both work in the Ministry, and we’re the same age. Frank got taken on first because he is a man, and for no other reason!”
“Oh come on. That’s-“
“And here in Turkey! We’ve only been here a few days, but no one listens when I speak! I can’t wear my own clothes, I can’t go into certain places in the mosques, and when Christine and I join you in the pubs people stare at us! And we have to keep our eyes down and pretend we’re under your protection just because we’re women!” Alice’s face was flushed. “But you, you’re the son of a rich pureblood magical family and a man, and a whole human! You have no idea what it’s like to be discriminated against!”
“Which is exactly why I’m a disowned runaway who’s afraid to tell his very best friend he’s gay,” Sirius reminded her.
Alice rolled her eyes. “Look, my point is that when we talk about werewolves, we’re not just talking about Remus, okay? Keep it in your head that just because you trust Remus doesn’t mean you should trust every Dark Creature that comes across your path.”
“I still don’t see it in Stern. He wouldn’t betray us.”
Alice shook her head. “It’s not betrayal if you saw it coming.”
***
It was Friday night again, and Remus was lonely and bored. Caradoc had left early to meet Moody for a steak and a drink at the Leaky Cauldron. Sirius was still in Turkey. Peter was with Tina. James was up in Ballycastle, with a Quidditch game tomorrow. Even going home and spending quality time with his parents was out; his father was in Turkey with Sirius and his mother had flown to America for a conference. (And besides, who spent quality time with their parents on a Friday night? Ugh.) He didn’t want to impose on Frank; Frank had been nice enough to let Remus stay with him last weekend until Moody decided it was safe for Remus to return to his own flat, but… but. There was always a but.
“Remus?”
He jumped, spinning wildly, until he saw Lily’s head in the fireplace.
“Lily! What… I’m sorry, you just scared me. I didn’t expect anyone to call.” He dropped down to his knees to be on level with her.
“Sorry about that. Listen, I know this is kind of last minute and everything, but what are you doing tonight?”
“Absolutely nothing. You?”
“The same. Want to have dinner and do absolutely nothing together?”
“Sure,” he said, surprised and a little embarrassed he hadn’t even thought of Lily. “When are you off?”
“Right now. Step on through?”
He did, finding himself in the next minute spinning to a stop in the lobby of St. Mungo’s. The welcome witch and a bored wizard at check in waved to him. “I’m getting a little too well known here, aren’t I?” he asked Lily.
She giggled. “Caradoc’s a legend,” she said. “Please tell me you could really go for a nice curry tonight. I’m craving it.”
“Craving?” Remus asked with arched eyebrows. “Are you telling me that James may get his Christmas wedding after all?”
Lily smacked him on the arm. “Brute. No, I’ll have you know. Mr. James Potter will be waiting for the wedding night to deflower this lily.”
“God, that pun was almost worthy of Sirius,” Remus said, cringing. “Make another one like that and we’ll be headed straight for Chinese instead of Indian.”
They laughed together and left the hospital, heading a little restaurant on the corner near St. Mungo’s. It was bright with garish paint, paper lanterns and a rainbow of tablecloths.
This was what it felt like to be James. This was what it felt like to have a pretty girl sitting across from him at a dinner table, and a waiter fawning over what she seemed to think was young love. He and Lily laughed about it, but neither of them disabused the waiter of the notion, either. This was what if felt like to be normal, and Remus didn’t want the night to end.
“Do you want to go to the cinema?” he asked Lily when they had paid the bill and left the restaurant. “We could catch a late show.”
“All right.” Lily’s smile was wide and easy.
They walked together through the dark streets, Lily taking Remus’s arm companionably as she pulled her robes tighter around her shoulders to ward off the cold. The streets grew darker as they made their way through a less populated part of town, and instinctively Remus drew Lily a little closer. She laughed at him, but he also noticed that she yielded to the gesture.
The wind blew cold against the back of Remus’s neck, and a sixth sense warned him a fraction of a second before he saw them.
Death Eaters, standing in front of them, robed in black with cold hard eyes glinting out of the holes of masks.
Remus and Lily turned to run the other way, crashing into each other as they spun. A hand caught Remus by the arm, squeezing down vice-like as he was pushed and herded into an alley, his arms held tight by a grip too strong to break.
Just an alley somewhere in London, strewn with generic garbage and permeated with a rancid stench.
“Well, well, well,” one of the Death Eaters said, his voice muffled by the mask but clear in its mocking. “What have we here? A Mudblood and a half-breed. What a charming couple.”
Don’t panic, Remus told himself, as he had so many times before. Don’t panic. They are wizards behind those masks. Plain, ordinary wizards.
One of the Death Eaters reached out, cupping Lily’s chin and turning her face towards him. “It’s proof that Mudbloods aren’t worth the oxygen they breathe,” he said. “This one belongs to a pureblood, and look at the gratitude she’s giving him. Cheating on him with werewolf scum.”
“What makes you think I belong to a pureblood?” Lily demanded. “Or that he’s a werewolf?”
The movement was so sharp Remus almost didn’t register it; he just heard the crack of a hand against flesh and Lily cry out, and then saw her spit blood. “We know,” the Death Eater said simply. “We know who you are. And your Apparation efforts won’t help,” he continued, his voice blurred with smug glee. “It is a simple matter to make an alley inApperable when you have power such as the Dark Lord provides.”
“Let us go,” Remus said, scowling to hide the trembling in his voice. “Now.”
“I don’t think so,” the lead Death Eater said.
Now. Go now, before they get too organized… Remus stomped on the foot of the Death Eater holding him.
The alley erupted into chaos. Remus fumbled for his wand, his hands slipping in his haste. This wasn’t like that attack in the club, where they had been balanced seven to four. This was eleven to two, and the intent was far more malicious.
Lily screamed.
He spun around, wand finally in hand, firing a hex at the Death Eater that pinned her against the wall. The Death Eater fell away, but another caught Remus’s arm and a third pushed him to the ground. The captured arm wrenched, and a boot connected with the side of his head and he saw stars.
There was a bang that shook the windows above them, and Remus breathed relief that Lily was anything but the damsel-in-distress type. He couldn’t tell how many Death Eaters fell, but there had to have been at least two. Three down. He clambered to his feet, making it partway up before his face connected with the filthy pavement and a blow caught his ribcage. He swallowed hard against the bile rising in his throat.
Lily screamed again, and this time there was a desperation in her voice that shredded his heart and drove him to forget his own pain and struggle again. But even as he fought frantically, two Death Eaters pointed their wands at him.
“Crucio!”
Lily’s screams were drowned out and he didn’t know what had happened to her and he didn’t care because fire ripped along each nerve and- OH GOD NO-- he was going to die. No, worse, he was going to live and this pain was going to torment him for the rest of his life as his back arched and his arms and legs convulsed and a gargled scream ripped out of his throat and the world faded down until it was only him and red-hot, no, white-hot pain. He tried to think, and somewhere on the edge of his mind he knew he had to help Lily and he thought of James and he begged for Peter and longed for Sirius and wanted his parents, but those were shadows that flitted across the unbearable agony. It came in waves and the tiny part of his brain that could still think told him that the curse had been cast more than once. He had no idea if it was seconds or hours that passed, only that his throat was screamed raw.
The pain finally began to lessen and the world came back into focus, slowly, as if one were tuning a radio. He heard harsh laughter and muffled sobbing, smelled the tang of blood and the acrid scent of scorched hair. Slowly his limbs became his own again, and he was conscious of the smooth wood of his wand still clutched in his hand. The sky above them was clear and cold, with stars winking down and watching it all.
Remus began to sit up, every limb protesting in agony, and every fiber of his being fighting it as he remembered. He had to get to Lily.
“You don’t know when to stay down, do you werewolf?” His body was flung back; by magic or by force he couldn’t tell. He flipped over, only to confront a wand pointed directly at him.
“Avada Kedavra!”
A faint burst of green light flashed, and Remus was flung to the ground, nose bleeding profusely and sick to his stomach, but alive and capable. He scrambled to his feet and fired an Incendio at the Death Eater that had tried to kill him, an Incarcerous at another one nearby, and a good hard kick to the knee followed by a knee to the stomach at a third. His body was swept with an anger and a power like he’d rarely known, and he was no longer conscious of what he was saying or what punches he threw, only of the shouts and the contact of flesh against flesh.
He was brought back to himself when his hand closed around Lily’s slim wrist, and he pulled her with him as he stumbled out of the alleyway. Her wand was still clutched in her hand and he knew it had been used as well as his own, but neither of them stopped to look back to see what damage was done.
“Wormtail’s house,” he gasped to her. “They won’t look for us there.”
She nodded and they Apparated, and suddenly the alley was gone. The room was warm, with a fire burning and low lights chasing shadows into their corners. Remus breathed deeply, especially as Lily appeared beside him with a crack.
“ARGH!” Peter Pettigrew sat up, pulling a blanket over himself and Tina. “Don’t you two knock?”
Remus’s mind whispered normally he’d laugh and make some remark about catching Peter with his pants down, or perhaps give them marks on their performance. But tonight he stood by the fire trembling until blood from a cut on his forehead trickled into his eye, stinging him back to action.
“Sorry, Peter. Tina. We ran into- we…” he sighed. “We needed to run.”
“Oh Merlin, what happened to you?” Peter asked as he shrank back into the couch.
Remus shook his head, pinching his nose to stop the bleeding.
Tina stood up. “I’ll go get some medical supplies,” she said calmly, pulling the blanket around her. Remus looked down at the floor and found a pair of trousers. He handed them to Peter, who pulled them on gratefully.
“Can you contact Moody?” Remus asked.
“What do I tell him?”
“Lily and I were attacked by Death Eaters. Eleven of them, if I counted right. They seemed to know who we were.”
“All right.” Peter nodded. “If you two want, you can go into the kitchen. I’ll send Tina in a moment, all right? Right. I’ll Floo Moody right away.”
Remus took Lily’s hand and led her into the kitchen. The kitchen was brightly lit and cheery, with a split oak table that Remus remembered from visits during the Hogwarts days. Then he could put it off no longer, and he turned to face Lily.
Her left eye was already blackening, and blood from a cut on her forehead streaked her face. Her jaw was swollen and her lip was split, her long red hair mussed and tangled. Her robes were torn and bloody, and singed in one spot.
But all that was nothing next to the pain in her eyes.
All evening Remus had had the nagging sensation of wishing he was James and feeling like he was living an evening in James’s life. He’d wanted to be normal: not a werewolf, not gay, not… not Remus. But right now, when Lily looked at him helplessly, he was glad he wasn’t James, or Sirius, or Peter, or anyone he’d ever known. He was glad he was Remus Lupin, Friend of Lily Evans.
He wrapped his arms around her, not a werewolf or a prefect or a marauder or any other identity that she knew him by, just as a man. And in his arms she began to cry. She wasn’t the headstrong Head Girl or James’s fiancée or Order Member… just a woman that was sobbing against his neck, devastated. He held her tight and rocked her gently, smoothing the wild red hair and kissing her head in comfort that he knew only went skin deep.
Tina came in silently, depositing the first aid kit Mrs. Pettigrew kept on hand for household emergencies. Remus drew away from Lily, opening the kit and finding what he needed.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly as he sat her down and knelt at her feet, potion-soaked rag in hand.
“Are you?” she asked wryly. “I heard you screaming…”
“Cruciatus,” he admitted, cringing even as he said it. The memory of the pain rose in his mind, turning his stomach again and he forced it down, telling himself it was no worse than the pain of transformation every month. “Did they…”
“Not Cruciatus,” Lily said, her voice wavering.
Remus put the rag down and cupped Lily’s cheek. “I know not Cruciatus,” he whispered. “Lily, did they… did they do something else?”
She began to cry again, really cry. No ladylike tears or the moderated sobs of earlier, but raw, unfettered grief as she clutched at his back and her tears soaked his neck. Over her shoulder he saw Peter standing in the doorway, watching them both with wide eyes. “Should I use Sedatio on her?” Peter mouthed.
Remus shook his head.
Eventually the tears began to ebb, and Lily pulled herself away from Remus, wiping at her face. He offered her a handkerchief, and as she tended to her nose her eyes grew harder and more alert.
“Should we get you to St. Mungo’s?” he asked.
“No. I think we have what we need here.” She snuffled, neglecting the handkerchief and wiping her nose on her sleeve and her cheeks on her bare hands. “Let’s take a look at you.”
“Lily, did they…?”
“No,” she said, not looking Remus in the eye. She cupped his face and tilted it up to the light. “You’ve got a nasty cut here, but that should be easy to heal.”
“Lily-“
“Remus, they didn’t. I want you to understand that right now. They did not do it. They came close- too close- but we got away in time. Do you understand me? They. Didn’t. Do. It.”
Kneeling at Lily’s feet, Remus realized he was witnessing one of the most courageous acts he had ever seen. He knew in dark days ahead he would remember the strength of Lily Evans, and draw on it to be his own.
“I understand, Lily.”
Her eyes met his, and for a fleeting moment he thought she would break and the tears would begin again. But they didn’t, and incredibly she managed a smile. It was a watery, weak smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. “Promise me you understand.”
“I promise.”
She picked up his hand and linked their pinkies together, giving a bitter laugh at his confusion. “It’s something we used to do when we were little, me and Petunia, when we had secrets. It’s just a silly girl thing, a pinky promise. It just makes it more real.”
He clasped her hand in his and repeated the gesture, more firmly. “I understand, Lily. You’ve kept my secret, and I’ll keep yours. Pinky promise.”
***
It was late when Moody, Dumbledore, and Doge had left the house. Lily had fallen asleep on the sofa, and Remus couldn’t help but think someone (not to name names, but probably Moody) had slipped a Dreamless Sleep potion into her tea. Tina had left, saying she didn’t want to be in the way. Remus and Peter sat on the bed in Peter’s boyhood room, Remus with a blanket around his shoulders and an untouched cup of tea in his hands.
“Moody probably slipped the same stuff in here that he did in Lily’s,” he sighed, pushing the cup away.
“He did. I saw him do it,” Peter confirmed. “How long do you think it will take Prongs to get here?”
“Once they tell him, a matter of minutes, I’m sure.”
“Why does she want them to wait?” Peter asked. “I’d rather have thought… I mean, if it was Tina…”
“Time to get herself together is the best I can figure,” Remus sighed. For a moment, he’d thought of asking Moody to contact Sirius. But even before he’d opened his mouth he’d realized how stupid that sounded, even though he desperately wanted him here. “Or something like that.”
Peter nodded and drew his knees up to him, resting his chin on them. “Moony?”
“Mmm?”
“Did they really use Cruciatus on you?”
Remus pulled his blanket closer around him. “Yes.”
“What did it feel like?”
He shivered again. “Like nothing I ever felt,” he said in a flat, dead voice. “It was unbearable. I wanted to die, it was that bad. I think I tried to beg them just to kill me, I don’t remember. It didn’t come out anyway. I couldn’t form words. It was worse…” his voice faltered and broke, and he swallowed, staring at the white wall across from him. “It was worse than a transformation.” He drew his knees up and buried his head in the hollow they made. “Why do I feel like I’ll feel it again before I’m done?”
“You will,” Peter predicted quietly. He sounded calm, but when Remus looked up he could see that Peter was shaking.
“You okay?” he asked, laying a hand on Peter’s shoulder.
Peter laughed bitterly. “I should be asking you. Drink your tea, Remus. You need your sleep.”
Remus drank his tea.
Continued here
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