The two men were still despite the chill of the stone prison surrounded by the North Sea. The younger of the two surprisingly looked the worse for wear, skin wan and knuckles bloodied. There was a strange, unnatural amber tint to his eyes, not to mention their eery focus on the small window into the next room.

The other man, though every bit as old as his white beard would indicate, also did not waver in his gaze. He took a deep breath before confessing, "I must admit to being surprised at you, Remus."

Remus huffed a laugh that held no humor. Finally looking away from the window, he turned to his bruised hands, clenching them so hard that the crack of his bones broke the silence. "I admit to surprising myself, Dumbledore."

A whimper from the next room stopped Albus from responding. Remus resumed his watch, his face betraying nothing as the weeping, portly man in the window wriggled uselessly against his bonds.

"You almost killed him," Dumbledore monotoned, the slightest wince betraying him at the man in the other room crying out as his left arm, broken and dangling, was forced into a shackle.

Remus breathed deep, his sensitive nose unable to ignore the smoke that lingered on his tattered cloak nor the salt of the dried tears on his face.

"I meant to."

They both watched as Alastor Moody poured a clear liquid down Peter Pettigrew's throat, neither moving from their posts as the sobbing truth poured from the rat's mouth.

"Sirius! Don't you dare!"

The man in question paused more in shock at the volume of Remus' worried shout than in obedience. It took Sirius no time at all to get over being startled though, and he went on with his schemes. Unfortunately, this particular scheme was putting baby Harry, who had only just mastered crawling and was not even close to walking, on a hovering miniature broom.

Remus had lived a mostly good life, obvious tragedies aside, so it wouldn't be too tragic when Lily murdered him. In his defense, he and Sirius had watched Harry before, both independently and together, to great success and with no loss of life or limb. They both loved Harry and quite enjoyed spending time with him. Remus could even admit to being jealous at the tyke's preference for Padfoot over most everyone except his own father. Sirius had the unfair advantage of being able to turn into a cuddly dog at will, a feat that easily won over babies as it turned out. However, the good times were clearly coming to an end since Sirius' senses had left him, and he lowered his godson onto the broomstick with a wide grin.

Remus lurched for Harry, ending up in an ungraceful sprawl, hands outstretched under where he had assumed the baby would fall.

Instead, he was faced with Harry's gurgling giggle, a bit of drool escaping from the corner of his mouth, and a smirking Sirius who, despite having placed Harry on the broom, had not taken his hands off the child.

"Did you really think I would let my godson fly off first thing? He may be the most brilliant wizard to ever grace this earth and future champion quiditch player, but we can't have him kill himself before he hits his first birthday," Sirius tutted, guiding Harry's movements with firm motions so that the broom flew over a prostrate Remus, bristles scratching his gaping mouth as they passed. "Honestly, you have so little faith in me."

James came home first, Lily having been caught up at the market, to find Remus still laying on the floor as Sirius pushed a happily shrieking Harry around the living room in faster and faster circles. The speeding duo took one turn around the sofa too quickly and ended up tripping over Remus' stomach, knocking the air out of the werewolf in the process.

"You realize Lily won't let him keep that thing, right, Padfoot?" James asked, chuckling at Remus' moans of pain.

Sirius whipped his head around, pulling Harry up with one hand and snatching broom up with the other.

"I have a plan for that, dear Prongs," Sirius said, passing off the squirming baby to his father so he could put the broom back in it's box in the corner, "This is Harry's birthday present!"

James, preoccupied with keeping his glasses on his face and not in his son's searching fingers, "Harry's birthday isn't for months. You're a terrible godfather if I have to tell you that."

Shrinking the broom box with a tap of his wand, Sirius hid it in the armoire against the wall. "How dare you cast aspersions on my godfathering abilities. I am the best damn godfather in Britain, possibly the world."

"Swearing in front of your godson seems like evidence to the contrary," Remus groaned, finally heaving himself up.

"Shut it," Sirius tossed over his shoulder while making his way back to the godson in question. Taking the baby back and stealing James glasses right off his face, he plopped the frames on himself and leaned in so Harry could grasp at the glasses to his own content. James' complaints were soundly ignored as Sirius blew a raspberry at Harry whenever he got close to grabbing the glasses. "I know when his birthday is, you prat, but what kind of godfather would I be if I didn't let him practice a bit. Wouldn't want him to embarrass himself, would I?"

James was busy feeling his way blindly along the back of the couch until Remus took pity on him, pulled him to an armchair and pushed him into it. Remus snatched the glasses off Sirius' face before handing them back to a grateful James and settling next to Sirius on the couch.

"Been a bit since we were all together," James sighed, burrowing further into the cushions of his armchair. It had started to rain outside, fat drops tapping against the windows. Harry yawned, the excitement of the afternoon finally getting to him, and snuggled into his godfather's chest. Sirius leaned back to allow a better angle for Harry to rest against him and turned to face the other men.

"Not all together now, mate."

Remus frowned but nodded in agreement. "Pete's been gone more and more. Thought he was going to skiv off the last Order meeting before he slipped in the back a couple minutes late."

"His mum's been getting worse," James offered without opening his eyes, "Pete's been helping her around her house. I told him we'd come help him, but he said he didn't want to upset her."

Sirius rubbed Harry's little back, feeling his snores against his collarbone. "Maybe we should just head over anyway?"

"Sick mothers aren't the time for act first and beg forgiveness later," Remus reasoned, "But maybe we can drag him out tomorrow night. We shouldn't only be together on the full moon."

"Can't tomorrow," Sirius said without elaborating, and the other two perked up as it was unlike Sirius to be short. Noticing their curious looks, Sirius shrugged as best he could with a slumbering baby against his shoulder. "Mission for Dumbledore."

Frowning, Remus looked over at James to see the same consternation he felt reflected in his friend. James and Sirius almost always took missions together. In fact, most of the Order took on missions in pairs with the exception of Remus himself since he was the only werewolf and his missions were always to spy on others of his kind. Not that anyone but Dumbledore knew of Remus' work. In Dumbledore's own words, the fewer who knew of a spy and his intentions, the safer a spy would be. It was hard, keeping secrets from his friends, but Remus wouldn't do anything to jeopardize their safety. If Dumbledore said this was the best path, then Remus trusted his decision.

His friends would understand.

"We have a mission?" James asked, sitting up.

Sirius shook his head. "Just me, Prongs. Something special, apparently. Dumblie went on and on about me being the best suited for it. Can't say more than that, though," he sighed, "Technically, I'm not supposed to tell you lot about it at all, but the old man can't expect me to follow all his rules. We're Marauders, after all."

A small sliver of shame built in Remus' gut at Sirius' admission before he forced himself to bury it. Whatever this mission was, it seemed like only one night so it was different to his own work. Sirius telling them about one night was still safer than Remus divulging months of work.

They would understand.

Lily came through the front door then, drenched from the rain but bearing enough take away for everyone from the pub around the corner. James went to greet her, sending a drying spell over her and taking the food to the kitchen. Harry stirred at the his mother's voice so Sirius and Remus moved to the kitchen as well.

It was a usual night at the cottage in Godric's Hollow, laughter ringing out over the sound of rain as James ended up wearing the mashed peas he had tried to feed Harry. Remus smiled into his butterbeer, trying to memorize the warmth of this normalcy for the next time he was sent out into the cold to risk his life.

Unbeknownst to him, it would be the last time they were all together.

"You did what?!" Remus exclaimed, aghast. Dumbledore did not flinch, seemingly expecting the reaction.

Steepling his fingers under his chin, Dumbledore cut an imposing figure behind his ornate desk, surrounded by the portraits of all the headmasters who had come before him. Remus, in his anger, was not intimidated.

Seeing that the werewolf's ire was not likely to abate, Dumbledore repeated himself. "I have placed young Harry with the last of his living relatives, Lily's sister and her family."

Dumbledore did not anticipate Remus banging on the headmaster's desk with both fists and so did flinch this time.

"Lily's sister hates witches and wizards! You knew that!" Remus shouted, "Lily confided in you about just that very problem! How could you give her son to them?"

"Calm down, Remus. I did what was necessary and in the child's best interest," Dumbledore reasoned, but Remus would not hear it.

"Best interest! That is rich," Remus scoffed, "He should be with people who love him!"

"Is that not what family is? People who love him?"

Remus began pacing the circular office, too full of emotion and needing an outlet. After the events of the past night, Remus felt almost as close to the wolf inside him as he did under the full moon. He wanted to scream and hurt and tear and cry…

"I love Harry!" Remus roared, "I'm family, and I'll take him!"

For a newly turned one year old, Harry was doing quite well on the broom. This mostly meant that he hadn't broken his neck yet, but he was slowly understanding that leaning forward increased his speed, a feat he greatly enjoyed if his cackling was anything to go by. Lily had one eye on her son as she put away the half-destroyed birthday cake, a sad smile gracing her face despite the occasion. Peter had left earlier, a not unusual occurrence as he had to take care of his worsening mother. His commitment to his mother, and the fact that caring for her kept him from the forefront of the war, had been one of the reasons he'd been elected Secret Keeper for James and Lily. Remus had been uncomfortable with taking on that mantle when he spent so much of his time undercover with potential enemies, leaving Peter as the obvious choice.

"Sirius would be proud of him riding on his own," Remus murmured, unsure if he should be bringing up the specter of their friend. It had been months since Sirius had gone missing on a mission that was still shrouded in secrecy, much to the upset of the remaining Marauders. James in particular had spiralled, not that Remus was unaffected. But Remus had an outlet to funnel his anger and frustration with his work undercover, his helpless rage giving him a feral edge that ingratiated him to the other wild wolves. James, however, had soon after received news that Voldemort himself was targeting his infant son, for reasons not told to Remus, and so the thomey cottage became something of a prison.

Cut off from the war effort, cut off from investigating what had happened to his best friend, and cut off from society at large for fear that his family would be killed, James was clearly feeling helpless, and a helpless James was unpredictable in his moods. To his credit, the father had done his best to be happy and loving and smiling for his son's birthday, but Remus could see the struggle under the surface.

The first few weeks after Sirius' disappearance, after Dumbledore's repeated refusals to give them any details on the ill-fated mission, James had been ready to fight, any and every one except Lily. Remus suspected that Lily, and by extension Harry, were the only reasons James had not done something terribly stupid. James couldn't be faulted for his reaction, though, because Remus knew that had it been James who had gone missing, Sirius likely would have burned the world in an effort to get Prongs back.

Bringing up Sirius was painful, but Remus felt that not talking about him was more so.

"Sirius would already have him terrorizing the cat, more like," James countered, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards before he took a large gulp of butterbeer.

"I miss him," Remus sighed, deciding that Harry was the safest place for his gaze. Because of that, he heard rather than saw James use the sleeve of his shirt to wipe under his eyes.

"Yeah, Moony, I miss him, too."

At Remus' outburst, Dumbledore stood from his chair and stepped around his desk, interrupting Remus' pacing by placing a gentle yet firm hand on the werewolf's arm.

"I have championed you for years, believed in your abilities and remained firm in my belief that you were a good man before anything else," Dumbledore began earnestly, "However, after the events of the last twenty four hours, do you truly believe that you are what's best for the boy?"

Dread was forming in the corner of Remus' mind, but everything in him, wolf and man alike, would not allow weakness in front of the old man. Remus had lost damn near everything, and the thought of losing the one thing that remained his, of losing Harry, was too much to bear.

"James and Lily would want Harry with me, not with those muggles." He tore his arm from Dumbledore and put a healthy distance between them, facing the wizard squarely.

"James and Lily would want what was best for Harry. Is a man who had to be stopped from murdering a person with his own two hands, a man who attempted to harm those who stood in the way of his revenge, the best choice for an innocent child?"

The dread overtook Remus.

Crunch.

James' eyes had been open and cold.

Crunch.

Lily's hands had been outstretched and still.

Crunch.

Harry had been crying, his little face covered in blood.

Crunch.

Peter hadn't been hard to find. Remus caught him as he was fleeing his home, his scent ripe with fear.

Crunch.

Peter had begged for mercy, pleaded that Voldemort threatened him. Remus hadn't heard him.

Crunch.

The Dark Mark in Peter's forearm was long healed. Remus' last thought before he felt Peter's flesh crunch under his fist for the first time was that the mark had to have been there for months.

Crunch.

Remus was furious with Dumbledore. He was more furious with himself, though.

After finding the Cottage half-destroyed and the bodies of his two friends, he'd left Harry. Not alone, of course, as Hagrid had shown up while Remus wept over Harry's crib, but he'd still left him. Hagrid had taken Harry, soothing him with his rumbling voice, and Remus had left with no real plan, just an intention of finding Peter.

James and Lily hadn't been gone for more than a few hours, and he'd already failed them.

It was this failure that allowed Dumbledore to sow doubts in Remus. Perhaps with time, he could have learned to forgive himself. Maybe with that forgiveness, he could have been the family that Harry deserved.

The years, however, were not kind to Remus.

More often than not, he had not a knut to his name for lack of work. The Ministry passed more and more restrictive laws, and Remus' isolation increased exponentially.

He had no family, his friends were dead or good as, and the world around him constantly rejected him for who he was.

Despite all of this, Remus retained his compassion. It was that compassion that carried him through meeting the scared young man with his best friend's face and a haunting scar.

That compassion gave him back Harry.

He was going to kill Peter. It was a fact.

Remus continued to reign hits on the man who had been his friend and brother. His last friend. Peter had stopped moving minutes before, but Remus did not care. He was going to kill him.

Until he wasn't.

It was not for lack of trying. The arms that pulled him off Peter were strong but no true match for a werewolf. Remus pried them off, turning on whoever had dared interrupt him, not seeing anything but an obstacle.

It never registered that he was attacking an auror. He didn't even realize that he'd tackled Moody until Dumbledore's immobulus hit him.

He was too far gone.

Harry was the best of Lily, and, in a bittersweet twist, the best and worst of James. Like Lily, he was kind, gave every person he met respect unless they proved themselves undeserving, and wickedly funny. Like James, his loyalty and emotions could get the best of him, he could be blindingly obtuse when it came to others' emotions, and he was so brave that it kept Remus up at night. At times, Remus would even swear he saw Sirius' mischief twinkle in Harry's eye.

All in all and despite only being seventeen, Harry had become the best man that Remus had ever met, and Remus could barely stomach the idea that he was the only one of their mismatched family left to see it.

Tonks helped. Merlin, did she help. She was warm and funny and brilliant, of course, but she also gave him support and love and a home. The last time he'd had any of those had been almost twenty years before. Remus loved her in a way he didn't know he still could, with his whole being.

It was because he loved her so much that he had to leave her. Leave her and the baby.

He'd help Harry.

Be far, far away from Tonks and the shame he brought her.

There was blood on his hands, thickly caked layer upon layer. It was funny, how the blood stayed on him through the rain that had started after he'd been immobilized, through being disenchanted and then apparating to Azkaban, through the checkpoints as he trailed behind Moody, Dumbledore, and an unconscious Peter.

Peter had been covered in blood, too.

Moody had healed what he could after they got Peter situated in a holding cell. Said it was protocol to start interrogations with a coherent subject. Peter would not have been coherent in his damaged state.

Dumbledore had led Remus to a little room off to the side, complete with a viewing window. Remus stood frozen, numb to his surrounding.

The two men had begun their vigil.

Remus did not like number 12 Grimmauld Place.

He had never been there when Sirius was alive, obviously, but the one summer here with the Order would have been enough to cement his dislike. However, he had a more powerful justification for his feelings. It had been a surprise to him when Dumbledore had announced the Black family house as the new headquarters for the Order after Voldemort rose again. This was because, with no living Black heirs, Remus had assumed the house, along with the extensive Black fortune, had been lost. Come to find out, Sirius had put in place a will leaving everything to Harry. Hearing that his friend had planned for his own death at the ripe age of 19 had been a fresh pain to an old wound, and Remus struggled with his memories while in Grimmauld Place.

He was grateful for Sirius' uncharacteristic foresight, though, because it provided Harry with a safe place to hide as the war escalated. Getting into the house was no small feat, even for Order members, and so Remus was understandable focused on getting through the wards and the front door, all while not alerting the lingering Death Eaters on the street. It was an irritating dance that prevented most from risking a visit to the trio housed inside, so coming face to face with the business end of three wands was not half as surprising as it was alarming to Remus. Hermione and Ron lowered their wands almost immediately upon seeing Remus' face.

Harry did not.

"What did you first say to Peter Pettigrew in the Shrieking Shack?"

Remus smiled though he felt no joy. "I politely said hello and followed that with 'Long time no see.'"

Harry lowered his wand and moved to greet him, but a thunderous crack from above interrupted him.

"What the bloody hell was that?!" exclaimed Ron, leaping away from the stairs like they were liable to bite him. Hermione had pivoted so her back no longer faced the upstairs and held her wand aloft again. Harry stepped between his friends, rushing up the stairs two at a time. Hermione was right behind him, apparently not keen to let him rush off alone.

Ron and Remus followed at a more cautious pace. Walburga Black's screeching was drowning out any noise from upstairs, but they still cleared the second and third floors quickly.

"Perhaps it was another boggart…" Hermione quietly suggested as the group ascended to the top floor, "Or another pixie infestation?"

A distinctly human moan emitted from behind the closed bedroom door to their right almost in answer to her suggestions.

"Perhaps not then," Remus heard her mutter under her breath while they stared at the door. It was the door to Sirius' old bedroom, Remus realized abruptly. Molly had left the room undisturbed, out of respect for Sirius or maybe Remus, but Remus had never been up to this floor. Being in the house was difficult enough.

Another noise came from the bedroom, this time a dramatic groan.

Remus stepped forward before Harry could lead the charge, carefully opening the door and slipping inside wand first. He silently lit the lamps in the room with a wave of his hand, keeping his wand trained on the man shaped lump in the bed. He heard the others join him but moved quickly to the other side of the bed so that he could get a good look at the intruder's face. The lamplight finally filled the room, and the man groaned again at the change in light but did not wake. His long black hair covered his face, though Remus thought he did look familiar. Finding Hermione next to him, he gestured for her to shift the man so they could identify him, keeping himself on guard as she did so.

Hermione pushed a shoulder to roll him onto his back, missing the furrow that developed in the man's brow for all the hair still in his face. Remus, however, missed nothing and a curious buzzing noise was building in his head. Hermione combed the hair out the man's face, and the bottom dropped out of Remus' world.

Grey eyes opened to meet Hermione's curious ones, a lazy grin blooming on the man's handsome face.

"Hello, gorgeous," purred one Sirius Orion Black, much to the astonishment of Remus Lupin. There was only so much one werewolf could take, you see, and the sudden reappearance of a brother long thought dead, looking exactly as Remus remembered from sixteen years ago, was apparently one thing too many.

Remus fainted dead away.