November 1st 1981

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and everything related belongs first, and foremost, to JK Rowling, and then to her partnerships with Bloomsbury, Scholastics, Warner Bros., etc.

Summary: November 1st in 1981 from the perspective of Remus John Lupin.

Posted: November 1 2014

1 November 1981

Remus arrived at the Order's Headquarters, deep purple bags under his eyes and his hair windswept from his travel. He could not remember the last time he had slept, or bathed, or eaten. He also couldn't remember the last time he had been to the small cottage they used for the Order. When he bustled in, moving on pure adrenaline, he vaguely noticed the handful of Order members packing up things. His eyes swept the room until they landed on the person he was searching for.

"Dumbledore, sir," he said breathlessly, as he approached the rectangular table that the Order used for meetings.

Albus Dumbledore looked around at the sound of his name. He too looked tired. "Remus. You received my message?"

"Yes," Remus said, casting glances around the room, now noticing the packing-boxes scattered about. "I came as soon as I got your message. Is everything all right? I wasn't supposed to leave… leave there for another two months, I'd thought…"

His voice trailed off at his involuntary shudder. He loathed living underground with werewolves, but it was his mission alone, and the knowledge he gained for the Order had saved lives.

Dumbledore turned to the other Order members, who appeared to be ignoring the two, though Remus hadn't the faintest idea why. "Excuse me. But would you mind if I had a few minutes alone to speak with Remus?" Though phrased as a polite inquiry, the wizards knew it to be an order, and quietly exited the cottage without a glance toward Remus. At length, Dumbledore turned back to Remus and gestured toward the chair nearest him. "Why don't you have a seat, Remus?"

"No," Remus said quickly, a sharpness to his voice as his heart began racing. "I'm fine standing."

"I really think you should…"

"No."

"Very well," Dumbledore said grimly, pulling the chair nearest him out to sit. He stared at his fingers as he wove them together, then pulled his eyes up to Remus. "I called you out of your mission early because Lord Voldemort has been defeated."

Remus blanched. "Wh-what? How?"

"Last night Lord Voldemort was defeated," Dumbledore repeated, and Remus considered too late why his tone was so solemn when the news was so joyous. "Remus, you are aware of the prophecy that drove Lily and James into hiding, yes?"

"Yes," Remus answered without thinking, then, as the pit of his stomach fell: "No."

"No?"

"No, no, no," Remus moaned helplessly, tears prodding his eyes. He found himself growing light-headed as his body realized something before his brain fully did. "James…and Lily…and… What happened?"

"Not long ago, I recommended James and Lily use a Fidelius Charm to conceal their whereabouts from Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore explained to Remus without pretense, as he watched the werewolf clutch the top of the chair in front of him. "As I'm sure you're aware, the Fidelius Charm depends on the Secret Keeper keeping their whereabouts unknown. I offered to be their Secret Keeper, but James insisted upon using Sirius. And…and…"

Remus' brains reeled. He hadn't seen any of his friends in over a month, hadn't realized how serious their situation had gotten. He hadn't realized a lot of things, apparently—

"Lily and James are dead, Remus. Sirius told—"

But Dumbledore's next words were drowned out by Remus crashing into the chair in front of him as he fell to his knees. He didn't need to hear what Sirius had done, he already understood. Tears flooded his face, blurring his already fuzzy vision. His body seized up, though he wasn't sure how considering his bones seemed hollow from the cold breeze slipping through the cottage window nearest them. He wondered how his body hadn't broken yet, how his bones hadn't crumbled completely like his mind surely had. He shivered violently, knowing he would never be warm again.

"Where is he?" Remus asked helplessly through his heavy breathing.

"Sirius Black is on his way to Azkaban prison," the old wizard told him gravely.

At this Remus' eyes rose from the floor. "What?"

Dumbledore sighed quietly, slipping his glasses off his nose. He pinched the bridge of his nose near his eyes before placing his spectacles back on. "Sirius was arrested shortly after the attack on Godric's Hollow. Muggles witnessed him being approached by another wizard – Peter Pettigrew – before he proceeded to blow the street corner apart…. Including Peter."

Remus listened numbly to the words Dumbledore said, his brain refusing to process the sound waves. He couldn't bring himself to understand these words. James, Lily, Sirius, Peter… His very best friends, and all of them gone.

"I'm very sorry, Remus," the old wizard consoled, coming to place his wrinkled hand on Remus' raggedly-cloaked shoulder.

The feel of Dumbledore's hand finally broke his resolve, and the words he had heard became meaningful. Then his mind began reconstructing the scenes despite, or rather because of, his agony. His mind saw James and Lily, at ease, confident that they were safe from Voldemort because they had placed their trust in Sirius. Then Sirius, finally living up to his birthright as a Black, betraying James, then killing Peter. It proved too much to bear, and Remus tried and failed to swallow down the bile in his throat. After a second attempt it broke through and Remus vomited on the floor. He realized he was sweating through the goose bumps now, his skin aflame despite his shivering.

"They're all gone," he found his voice whispering, finally releasing the agony that was cursing through his veins.

"No," Dumbledore said quietly, his hand still hovering near Remus' shoulder. "Harry survived."

At those words, Remus whipped his head around to look at Dumbledore, as if expecting it to be a joke. Dumbledore looked as solemn as ever, but Remus suspected there was a flicker of hope in the old wizard's blue eyes.

"But…but how?"

"We may never know," Dumbledore told him, somberly. "The curse rebounded and destroyed Lord Voldemort, leaving Harry with a scar on his forehead but otherwise, it appears, unharmed."

Leaving Harry with a scar, he said, as if it were nothing. As if Harry was also not left without parents, as if Harry, just like Remus, was not left with nothing.

"W-where is he?"

"Harry is being sent to live with the Dursleys. Lily's sister and brother-in-law, if they will have him. It is where he will be safest."

Remus' face sunk even lower if it were possible, the thought of Harry driving out the other terrible realities Remus could hardly handle facing. He hadn't ever met Petunia, but Lily and even James had shared enough stories about her for Remus to be decidedly against this decision.

"Isn't there…isn't there anywhere else?" Remus asked helplessly. He hoped his tone conveyed his thoughts properly, for he knew he couldn't give Harry a proper home, even if he wanted to, but he hardly found the Dursleys to be a better option.

"No, I don't think so," Dumbledore told him, enigmatically, and Remus understood that the decision was final.

He tore his eyes from Dumbledore, pressing his face into his hands as he worked to steady his breathing. Once Remus realized he was no longer in immediate danger of vomiting again, he stumbled to his feet, with help from Dumbledore and the nearby chair.

"I…I have to go," Remus said suddenly, raking an unsteady hand through his mop of hair which now stuck to his forehead from the sweat. "Thank you for…for telling me all of this. But I have to go."

Dumbledore watched on despairingly, as Remus back-pedal toward the door, and though he opened his mouth to say something, it appeared he thought better of it. "Take care of yourself, Remus."

Remus opened his mouth to reply, but closed it quickly at the taste of bile, and resolved himself to nodding.

Turning on his heel, he crashed open the cottage door and stumbled out into the cool November air. His breathing grew more ragged with every step, and before he realized what he was doing, and despite his frenzied state, he suddenly apparated. When Remus opened his eyes again, slightly surprised, even through his panic, at the success of his apparition, he looked around to where he had unconsciously traveled to: Godric's Hollow.

He closed and opened his eyes twice, barely registering the destroyed house in front of him. As Remus walked through the rubble and into the home, it became clear to him that Ministry officials had already been through to collect and clean up things. James and Lily's bodies had already been taken, for which Remus was relieved. He wasn't sure it was possible for him to break any further, but part of him knew that if he saw Lily and James right then, he would shatter.

With no real effort from his brain, his feet carried him around the main floor of the cottage, and within what was left of it, he found a flat patch of house still intact. When he reached the level area, he found his legs giving out underneath him, and he landed with a sickening thud on the floor. Through his closed eyelids – because he couldn't bear to look at the rubble any longer – tears stained his cheeks. Curling onto his side, he clenched his lips closed to prevent the sobs from escaping, but his body shook as a result of the constrained gasps. Then finally, after hours – or minutes, or seconds, hell if he knew – sleep overcame him.

He dreamt of sunlit days at Hogwarts, of James and Sirius and Peter, of them all, sharing butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks, then of Lily and her kind smile, outwitting James and Sirius to their amusement. Remus dreamt of better days, of happier, somewhat simpler times. He slept for hours, as if his sleeping mind knew that dreams would be the only place in which Remus Lupin could ever again be happy.