Work Text
31st October, 1981 - 8:36 p.m
"James," Lily laughed, dodging away from her husband who was currently trying to steal a spoon from her hand. They were making chocolate brownies, currently Harry's favourite sweet, for Sirius' birthday party they were holding a few days early.
"I'm gonna catch you!" James cackled, lunging over the kitchen bench. Harry squealed with delight as Lily scrambled out of the way, still laughing hard enough for her ribs to ache.
"Harry! Take the spoon and run!" Lily passed the spoon to the baby who took off at a toddle towards the living room, drops of batter splattering the ground. James followed the toddler, hollering over Harry's squeals.
"I'm gonna get you!" James cried, grinning. "I'm gonna get you, Harry!"
Harry stumbled, but before he could fall, James scooped the toddler up, laughing into his belly as he blew raspberries. Harry squealed again and Lily decided she wanted nothing more than to bottle that sound and listen to it forever. Harry was still waving the wooden spoon around, so James took his chance to lick the remaining batter from it.
"Now you get to wash that," Lily grinned, lifting the toddler from James' arms and leaving him with the spoon.
James pouted, but leaned in to kiss Lily, which was unsuccessful since they were both smiling too much. "I love you, Lily Evans-Potter," James sang, dancing back towards the kitchen. Harry giggled at James' display of twirls and exaggerated leaps as Lily set him down on the kitchen bench, far enough from their baking.
James continued to potter about the kitchen, stirring in ingredients while Lily and Harry migrated to the living room again. Lily curled lay back against the armrest of the sofa, lying across the pillows with Harry in her arms. The toddler had gone from excited to exhausted in a matter of minutes and would be asleep soon. She knew she'd have to put him to bed, but she could see James still dancing around the kitchen and didn't want the moment to end.
Lily's own eyes started to droop, still focused on the twirling form of her husband as he slid the tray into the oven, using his wand to turn it on and clear the mess they'd made away.
"Do you want me to put him to bed?" James murmured, crouching beside Lily who hadn't seen him coming. She peeled her eyes open and gave James a grateful smile, who, careful not to wake the finally sleeping toddler, lifted Harry and set off up the stairs. Lily swung her legs off the sofa, spotting a slightly steaming mug of hot chocolate sitting on the coffee table in front of her.
Oh how she loved that man.
Lily hummed in appreciation at James' cocoa. She didn't know what he put in it that made it taste so good, and that was fine as long as he kept making it.
"Made with love," is what James would answer with, and what he said as he sat down next to Lily, taking the cup from her hands and pulling her into his arms.
Lily went easily, tucking her legs up and resting her head against James' chest. He was warm, seeming to radiate an irresistible heat that had Lily snuggling even closer. She could hear his slow heartbeat through the thick jumper.
"Today was a good day," James murmured, his chest rumbling as he spoke. Lily lifted her head to look up at him, smiling softly.
"Yeah."
"I forgot how much I missed you laugh," James sighed, his eyes soft and so full of love, Lily was almost overwhelmed. She ducked her head and tightened her arms around him. "Don't go away, I love your laugh."
Lily slowly lifted her head again, an oh-so-familiar blush on her cheeks that only James has been able to cause. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," he murmured, reaching up to brush the loose strands of hair from Lily's face. "I know it's been hard, but you've been amazing. I don't think I would have been able to survive this long locked in here without you."
"Oh, shush."
"No, no, I mean it," James grinned. "Even when it feels like it's just us against him, you remind me of all our friends who are trying their hardest. Even when I can't handle the guilt of staying locked here, you remind me why we're doing this." His hand left Lily's hair to search for hers and he locked their fingers together. "You remind me what it's like to be alive some days. And I can't thank you enough for it."
"I-" Lily was about to speak, to say everything back at him, because it's true. James is her rock through the hardest days, days when she can't keep going, and he's there to catch her until she's ready to stand on her own. But James clamps a hand over Lily's mouth, his eyes wide with a terror she hasn't seen in a long time. The heartbeat by her ear becomes rapid and uneven, James' breath is almost non-existent. Lily searches his eyes for an answer, but it's not until she hears it that her own eyes widen and the breath it punched from her lungs.
Footsteps.
One pair slowly approaching their front door. In the silence that has fallen, Lily can hear the swoosh of a cloak against the ground.
James slowly pulls away from her, his dark complexion paler than Lily has ever seen and he slides off the sofa, crouching in front of Lily. He cups her face between his two, stupidly giant hands, holding her steady from the tremors taking over her body.
"Lily," he whispers, rushed and terrified. "Lily,
mi amor
, you need to go get Harry and get out. No, don't argue with me. I'll hold him off as long as I can. Take Harry and
run
."
"No," Lily's eyes are clamped shut, her head shaking side to side despite James' firm grip. "No, we can all-"
"Don't argue with me, love. We haven't got time." Lily forces her eyes open, barely able to see through the thick layer of water, as James presses a firm kiss to her forehead before he disappears completely.
"I love you," Lily blurts, the tears that were obscuring her vision falling fast enough for her to see her husband disappearing into the hall. Lily's feet carry her at a silent sprint to the stairs, taking them two at a time to Harry's nursery. Her wand is clutched tight in her shaking hand and she prays to any god who can hear her that James escapes.
Harry must sense her fear and starts crying almost immediately. Lily covers his mouth with her hand, whispering her apologies as lifts him into her arms and starts for the door. She can hear James' voice from the door.
"YOU CAN'T HAVE THEM," is what he yells before a cold, chilling voice splits the air.
"
Advarda Kedavra
."
Lily can't stop the scream that tears from her throat. Harry's wails grow louder as her world narrows. Rushing back to the cot, she lays Harry down, whispering choked goodbyes. Their escape is gone. The floo was in the room the entranceway opened into. He would be there, stopping them before they could reach the bottom stairs.
Lily can't stop her sobs as she crouched by the bars of the cot. "Mama loves you, Harry," she promises, hiccupping. "Dada loves-loves you." She can't bring herself to say the past-tense.
There's a shattering sound downstairs before a yowl of the cat and skittering paws. Lily prays their cat got away. If none of them can, the ginger cat should. He's done no wrong.
The footsteps continue, the first landing on the bottom stair, and then the next. And the next. There is so much terror held within that sound she can't breathe. The anticipation of what's to come lurking like a lion ready to attack. There's no way out, she's in his sights now.
Lily forces herself to her feet, clinging onto the railing of the cot to desperately try and stay standing.
"Be brave, Harry," she chokes as the first foot reaches the landing. "You're so brave."
The toddler stares up at her, his cheeks stained with tears, but he's no longer wailing. As if he knows what's about to happen. Lily turns to the door as the hooded figure enters. The black cloak hangs off Voldemort like a blanket off a child playing make-believe.
"Lily Potter."
His voice instantly freezes the room, Lily's shaking reaching a new violent level, so much so she can barely hold her wand out. "If-f you want him, you-you'll have to k-ill me," she stutters.
"Severus asked me to spare you. I will say it was an accident. You dived in front of your child in a poor attempt to save him, like your husba-"
"Ex-EXPELLIAMRMUS," Lily screams, red light bursting from her wand tip. Voldemort doesn't even flinch, the spell breaking over a shield like water over rocks.
"I see," Voldemort murmurs. "
Advarda Kedavra
."
"Ma?"
"Harry Potter. Are you ready to die?"
31st of October 1981, 10:46 p.m
Everything was wrong, wrong, wrong. The earth below felt wrong. The sky above Sirius as he tore through the air on his bike was wrong. Remus was wrong. Then again, his boyfriend hadn't been right for a long time. Not since the werewolves and Greyback. Sirius knows there's some sort of fucked up connection between the infected and the infector, or whatever
the fuck
they're called.
Sirius only hopes Remus isn't wrong enough to be the mole. Dumbledore had told them, the four of them, that there was someone within the Order, willingly or unwillingly, passing information to You-Know-Who. Sirius hadn't wanted to believe it was Remus for months after that talk, but Peter had told him it could have been anyone and Remus was just as likely. James and Lily were firm to believe Remus was innocent, but Peter didn't seem so sure.
Sirius didn't know who to believe. And it wasn't an unfounded doubt. Whenever Remus returned from the packs, beaten, starved and scared shitless, he didn't utter a word about it to Sirius. He would let him clean his wounds, feed him and hold him through his nightmares, but every time Sirius asked where he'd been, what happened or even if he was
safe
, Remus always said that Dumbledore had forbidden him from saying anything.
So when the time came for Lily and James to go into hiding, taking Harry with them, Sirius didn't mention the Fidelius Charm to Remus. He'd even blatantly refused to be Secret Keeper when James asked, telling him to give the job to Peter. He didn't want to risk Remus finding out. He wasn't taking any chances on his friend's safety.
It was even worse now that Sirius had woken up this morning with a note from Remus on his pillow saying he'd gone to see Dumbledore and wouldn't be back until the 2nd, which was the day he was due to leave for the packs.
It wasn't a coincidence that the same day Remus had disappeared, James had failed to show for their meeting through the mirrors. He'd been waiting for over an hour, leg bouncing, thoughts racing and when James still didn't answer, he'd jumped on his bike without a second thought and was now soaring through the sky towards Godric's Hollow. His mirror was still clutched in his hand, cutting into his thumb as he tried not to drop it into the black nothingness of the countryside below.
It wasn't until the bike's wheels skidded down onto the street outside the Potter's Cottage did Sirius truly know fear. Sure, he'd been in battles fighting for his life. He'd seen his friends almost die, and even more actually die. He'd gone days worrying if Remus would come home this time and a week by his bedside as he clung to life. But he'd never known fear as he did when he stared up at the dark cottage with its door hanging open on its hinges, black scorch marks visible even from a distance. There was a hole in the roof, right above where Sirius knew Harry's nursery was.
His legs carried him at a sprint towards the open door, but when he pressed it open further to enter, it bounced off something. Sirius didn't need to look through to know what it was and bile scratched at his throat as he squeezed through the gap in the door and dropped by his best mate's body.
"No-
no
," Sirius pushed away from James, stumbling further into the house.
The bulbs on all the lights had been shattered, glass crunching underfoot as he made his way through the living room towards the stairs. There was a half-drunk cup of hot chocolate on the table, next to James' wand. Sirius would recognise the swirling pattern in the wood anywhere.
He clutched the wand in his other hand as he continued towards the stairs, only then hearing Moody's voice in his head.
Constant vigilance.
"
Homenum revelio."
There was one other person in the house and Sirius knew who as he stumbled up the stairs towards the sound of crying. Sirius had to catch himself on the doorway at the sight before him. Moonlight filtered through the hole in the roof and it was nearly ten degrees colder in here than the rest of the house, the remnants of the heating charms working to warm the empty rooms.
Lily was a heap before Harry's crib, hair splayed out around her, one hand flung out towards her child. Sirius could barely look at the baby without feeling nauseous. There was a nasty gash across his head, dripping blood down his face and into one of his eyes.
Sirius stumbled towards the cot, carefully avoiding touching Lily's-
Lily
and lifted harry into his arms. The toddler sniffed, face wet with snot and tears as he stared down at his mother.
"Ma?" Was his uncertain squeak.
"It's okay, Haz," Sirius mumbled, carefully walking from the cot and around Lily. Before he could get to the door, none other than Severus
fucking
Snape walked in, wand held out before him. "What the hell are you doing here?" Sirius hissed.
Snape's eyes darted from Sirius holding Harry to Lily's body. "N-he said he'd-
no."
He watched as Snape's face crumpled, and he tried to take a step forward. Sirius had both the wands in one hand, pointed at Snape's chest.
"
Do not move
," he growled, wanting nothing more than to shift to Padfoot and take a fucking
bite
out of him, and not in a sexy way. In a gruesome mauling to death way. "
You
did this to her."
"I asked him to spare her," Snape blubbered, sounding not unlike baby Harry. "He said he would let her live."
"YOU DID THIS TO THEM!" Sirius roared, casting a spell which bounced off the hasty shield Snape had cast. He didn't even know what it had been, but it wasn't the red of an
expelliarmus
. Sirius started towards the door, shoving Snape out of the way with one hand, the other still holding a blubbering Harry tight to his chest.
"It wasn't me!" Snape yelled as Sirius entered the landing. He paused, his back still turned to the other man, waiting for him to continue. Snape did, desperate and pathetic. "Pettigrew has been giving information to the Dark Lord like I had Dumbledore for months. I-I didn't know who it was until tonight when Pettigrew gave Him the location of the Potters. I would have told Dumbledore, had I know-"
"I've heard enough," Sirius muttered, taking the steps two at a time in his haste to reach the front door.
"PAPI?" Harry screamed at James' form sprawled on the ground. Wandless, defenceless, dead.
"He's gone, Hazza," Sirius mumbled, unable to look at his best friend. If he did, he wouldn't leave this cottage for the rest of his life. And that can't happen because tonight he has a job to do.
He'd going to find Pettigrew and end him.
Sirius conjured ropes and fabric, transfiguring them into a baby harness for Harry, which he attached to his front. He enlarged his jacket and zipped it up over the baby, sheltering him from the freezing temperatures they were about to fly through.
"Hold tight, Haz," he muttered as he started the engine and took off down the street.
They made the flight home in almost half the time it took for him to get there, although it might have only felt that way since Sirius had zoned out, imagining all the different ways he was going to slowly and painfully murder Peter Pettigrew.
When they landed outside their flat, Sirius unzipped his jacket slightly to check Harry was still alive. He was asleep, thumb tucked between his lips, blood dried across his head. The wound had clotted before Sirius had gotten on the bike and he wanted Remus to heal it since he was better at healing magic, despite Sirius' practice.
Sirius hadn't even put his key in the lock when it flew open and Remus stood in the doorway, his face a blank mask, like it was most days.
"Voldemort's dead," Sirius said as he pushed past him into the flat. Remus didn't even look surprised. "So are Lily and James."
That made Remus' expression stutter, before his mask slipped. "Dead?" he echoed, the faintest crack in his voice.
"Yeah. It was Pettigrew, he was the mole." Sirius clenched his hands into fists. This anger was white hot, burning through him because he'd fucking
trusted
Peter. Peter who had manipulated Sirius into believing Remus was the mole.
And, oh, there's the guilt.
"
Peter?
"
The anger that was almost setting him on fire moments before was now a twisting stone of guilt. He'd believed Peter that Remus was betraying them. Remus who'd done nothing but follow Dumbledore's orders time and time again. Even when Sirius knew they were tearing him apart. Literally and figuratively.
"I'm so sorry," Sirius mumbled, giving up trying to undo the strap. He turned to Remus, who looked like he was in shock. "I believed every word Peter said. Months ago, Dumbledore told the four of us there was a mole." At Remus' frown of confusion, Sirius clarified. "Me, James, Lily and Peter. He sat us down and told us to trust nobody. James and Lily were convinced it wasn't you, but Peter said something, 'it could be any of us, why not him' and that stuck with me for weeks. And then you kept spending more time with the werewolves and James and Lily needed a secret keeper and I knew it couldn't be me because the second you asked where they were I would have told you. I always would. I convinced them to make Peter their secret keeper and Peter went and he-he told Voldemort where they were. He
betrayed them
. His friends." Sirius clamped a hand over his mouth as a sob clawed from his throat. Remus at his side in a second, pulling him into a hug, which Sirius dodged out of. Remus looked hurt, until Sirius pulled his jacket off to reveal Harry, still asleep against his chest.
"Oh," Remus mumbled when he saw the state Harry was in.
"Help get him off me?" Sirius asked, wanting nothing more than to forget this night in Remus' arms.
Remus obliged immediately, unknotting the straps around Sirius' shoulders and chest, carefully lowering Harry into Sirius' arms. There was that familiar look of fear on Remus' face as he handled Harry. Even when he was a babe, Remus had refused to hold him, opting to watching Sirius or Lily handle him. Sirius guessed there was some underlying fear from his childhood which Remus refused to acknowledge, but they'd never pushed him to hold Harry and he'd finally accepted to having the baby in his lap rather than his arms.
Sirius was then struck with the sudden realisation that they had nothing for a baby in their flat. There was a bed in the second bedroom they could transfigure into a cot, but that meant Sirius and Remus would have to share a bed. They hadn't done that outside of the nights after the packs for months. And even when they shared Remus' bed, it was awkward and neither dared to touch the other, despite always waking up curled together, a mess of tangled limbs.
But it wouldn't be for just one night, was the next realisation. Someone would try to take Harry from them, but as his godfather, it was Sirius' job to take him in if anything happened to Lily or James. And he was going to take care of this kid until his last breath.
And he couldn't do that if he was arrested for murdering Pettigrew.
Sirius lay the sleeping Harry on the couch, far from the edge where they could keep an eye on him if he rolled. Then, he launched himself into Remus' arms. The other man caught him on reflex, his arms coming up to wrap tightly around his shoulders. Despite his fear that it would be as awkward as their sleeping arrangements, being in Remus' arms again was as warm as it had always been.
Of course, this prompted Sirius to finally break down. His first sob was muffled into Remus' jumper, and quickly followed by a second, then a third. Remus' hand rubbed small circles at the top of his back and he whispered calming nothings into Sirius' hair. Eventually, he felt tears that weren't his own damped his face and he pulled back enough to stare at the man. The werewolf's eyes were scrunched closed and his head was ducked down, trying to hide.
"Remus?"
"What do we do now?" Remus spoke in barely a whisper, voice thick.
"I don't know," Sirius admitted, equally quiet.
They stood like that for a few more minutes, until the embrace did become awkward and Sirius pulled back.
"We're not getting rid of him," he said firmly, hanging his jacket over a chair. "I'm not letting anyone else take him."
Remus shook his head in an almost fond manner. "I wouldn't have expected any less. But Sirius...we don't know how to raise a kid."
Sirius grimaced, glancing over at sleeping Harry. "I mean we were going to have kids some day."
"Yes,
some day
. Not today and not without help."
"Well we don't have any help, do we?" Sirius snapped, falling back into the rhythm of the last months. "S-sorry, I didn't mean that."
"S'fine," Remus mumbled. "Um, I'm just gonna go to the loo."
"Remus-" Sirius tried, but the other man was gone, the click of the lock a final full stop in their conversation.
Sirius sat carefully on the sofa, staring at the sleeping Harry and wondering what in Merlin's name they were going to do now.
Remus had known grief. He'd lost too many friends to count and it felt like he'd lost himself somewhere in the middle, but nothing compared to what it felt like to lose Lily ad James.
When Sirius had told him, it had felt like a switch had been turned off in Remus' brain. He struggled to keep up with what Sirius was saying about Peter and the mole and then seeing Harry, covered in blood but looking so innocent with his thumb tucked between his lips, it was like everything came into focus. The tears he'd shed while hugging Sirius were only the start and now it felt like they would never stop.
Remus sat heavily on the toilet, hands pressed to his face and trying to breathe. But even the simple act, necessary for survival was too hard. The tears made his face damp and his eyes itchy. His breaths came in stuttered gasps and his head swam.
They were dead. The two people who had been there for Remus during everything he'd been through. When he was alone during First Year, Lily had come to be his friend. When Sirius outed him to Snape, James had been there to take his side. When he'd struggled with his feelings over his best friend, Lily and James had been there to help him. To keep him sane. And throughout the war, when he'd felt alone or scared, they were there, fighting right beside him. And when Sirius started pushing him away, keeping him at arms length, they'd been there to pick up the pieces of Remus' broken heart.
And now they were gone.
Remus was hyperventilating, breaths quick, shallow and irregular and he couldn't stop it. His throat felt tight and his nose was running almost as much as his eyes and he could. Not. Breathe.
"Remus?" was Sirius' worried knock on the door. "Moony, please open the door or I will."
The noise that escaped Remus' throat sounded like a dying animal. The lock clicked open and Sirius pushed open the door, his own red face appearing before Remus'.
"
Mon loup?
"
'My wolf'. Even that nickname was enough to send Remus back into his head.
Sirius had first started calling him that in third year, after Remus had finally grown comfortable with his friends knowing his secret. But it wasn't until sixth year, when Remus had finally forgiven Sirius for betraying him, that the frenchman told him what it meant. Throughout the war, Remus had latched onto the phrase as confirmation Sirius still believed in him. That he still loved him. That Remus was still his wolf. But the last time Remus had heard it was when he was in St Mungos recovering from that brutal attack. The never again.
He hadn't thought he was Sirius' for a long time. So he'd stayed away, going on missions longer, just so he wouldn't have so see Sirius' wary expression or his hesitation before every touch. Their fights were long and vicious, Remus urged on by the moon, Sirius by his fear. Their makes ups were messy and never healthy, usually revolving around sex and avoidance of their problems. But it wasn't just that, they both needed each other, no matter how many times they screamed their hatred.
"Breathe, Moony, come on," Sirius urged, prying Remus' hands from his face. "Breathe with me."
Remus tried, he honestly tried, but he was interrupted by his dinner hurtling from his stomach upwards. He lunged from Sirius to the sink, only half making it. Sirius was behind him in seconds, rubbing soothing circles in his back while Remus heaved and shook and cried.
"I'm sorry," Sirius tried, pressing a kiss to the back of Remus' head. "None of this is fair."
"It should have been me."
"It should have been
us
."
"But it wasn't."
Sirius didn't say anything, but Remus swallowed harshly, finding it easier to breathe as the minutes passed.
"Go check on Harry, I'm fine," he mumbled after a few more. Sirius hesitated, but Remus waved him off, leaning over the sink to gulp water and clean the awful acidic taste from his mouth. Thankfully his wand was still in his back pocket and he used it to clean the rest of the bathroom and righten the miscellaneous items he'd knocked over in his rush for the sink.
He stared at his reflection in the mirror. Three scars slashing across his face. His broken nose that never healed right. His blotchy cheeks and swollen eyes.
"It should have been us," Remus muttered one final time before pushing out of the bathroom to help Sirius with Harry.
It took him a moment to find the duo, Harry had disappeared from the couch, but he found them in Sirius' room, Sirius transfiguring his bed into a cot for Harry. There was a second wand on the floor beside Harry, which he realised was James'.
"Alright?" Sirius asked, still keeping his eyes on the transfiguring bed.
"Yeah," Remus muttered. "Are you..." he trailed off with a grimace at his own awkwardness. He cleared his throat. "Are you going to sleep in my bed?"
"If that's alright," Sirius shrugged. "I can take the couch if you want, thought-"
"You can," Remus interrupted, flushing slightly at the rush the words had come out in. "I mean you can stay in my bed if you want. Or don't. I don't care."
Sirius finally turned and raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. "Yes or no,
mon loup
."
"Yes," Remus mumbled without hesitation. Sirius nodded and carefully lifted the still sleeping Harry from the blanket into the new cot. There was a moment when neither of them knew what to do, if they were supposed to say goodnight or anything, so Remus followed Sirius out, flicking the lights off as he went.
Remus quickly changed into a spare shirt and climbed onto his side of the bed, debating whether or not to pick up his book. His mind was still reeling from the events of the day, Dumbledore calling him to Headquarters, Sirius coming home with Harry, Lily and James dying,
Peter
being a rat after all. Sleep would not come soon.
So when Sirius appeared in the doorway, half in shadows and nervously picking at the necklace that hung around his neck, Remus leaned over to pull back the covers and Sirius quickly crossed the room, sliding in. He was prepared for it to be uncomfortable at the least, but this new level of awkwardness was almost unbearable. They lay on their respective sides of the bed, not touching but facing each other. Remus studied Sirius' face, trying to understand what he needed, but it was like trying to read an emotion from a concrete wall.
Under the covers, Remus reached over the gap, offering his hand to Sirius. After a very familiar hesitation, Sirius took it and Remus settled into his pillow, trying to relax enough for sleep, despite it being hours before he would.