Dear Readers,

This is it. The final document is 617 pages. This does not count 543 pages of discarded drafts and deleted content and side plots. And another 40+ pages of notes and outlines. This was a crazy amount of work that I could not have completed without you.

I'll say more at the end, but this one is for you. Some of you have been with me since the very beginning of this story (or from the very beginning of my first story). Thank you for your encouragement, for challenging me and inspiring me.

-Cat

Epilogue

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July 13, 1986

It was a Sunday afternoon. The seventh month was rolling by in a pattern of warm days and late night rain. It was hotter than usual and the sky was swept with wispy clouds in long brushstrokes. The moon was already nearing its zenith, half translucent light, half blue shadow. Below, the dark roofs of Godric's Hollow shimmered with heat. Most of the residents were staying cool indoors, except a group of people in the square. Sirius stood where the shadow of St. Jerome's steeple stretched over the pavement. Harry's hand was in his and Remus was nearby, but Sirius' gaze was fixed on the place where there once stood an obelisk. Only now it had changed, transfigured into a man and a woman and a child.

"Is that me?" asked Harry.

"That's you," said Remus.

"And that's my mum and dad?"

"Mm-hm."

"But why did they put a statue of us in the town?"

Sirius felt Remus' questioning eyes on him and knew it was his turn to answer. He cleared his throat and asked, "Do you remember what I told you about how your parents died?"

Harry nodded. "They died to protect me."

"Right. They're heroes, Prongslet. This is how the wizarding world remembers them."

Harry gravely studied the likeness of James and Lily, the stuffed dragon Firebreath clutched under his arm. Cars meandered lazily past. The statue was incredibly life-like, despite the texture of stone. Even James' glasses were wrought in delicate spindles, artistry only magic could perfect. But it couldn't capture everything.

A cloud scudded across the sun, blending the shadows together. The Mirror of Erised was gone. The final remnant of a life never lived. Sirius could not help the clang of bitterness on an otherwise beautiful day.

"I'm ready to go see them now," Harry suddenly said. Sirius glanced down to find him still looking sincerely at his father's face.

"Let's go, then."

The second time entering the graveyard was only made easier by the presence of Harry. Sirius needed to be okay with this for Harry. Maybe it would be better this time. Again, Remus led the way to the grave by the church, beneath the spreading branches of the old tree. The white seashell was perched on the headstone, gleaming in the stippled sun.

"Here they are, Harry," said Remus softly.

Harry released Sirius' hand and stepped cautiously off the path. He set Firebreath down in the thick, green grass and went directly to the names on the headstone. "James Potter. And Li-ly. Lily Potter."

He traced the letters with a little finger, then picked up the seashell and turned it over in his hands. Sirius recognized the change in his silence. It became similar to the one before Remus woke, the day after Azkaban. Sirius almost missed the question when it came.

"Was the bad wizard who killed them the one who hurt you?" asked Harry very quietly.

Remus and Sirius exchanged a brief look. The simple answer was yes. But it was so much more complicated than that. Because Voldemort had been wearing Pyrites' face and how could they even begin to explain that? Slowly, Sirius knelt down to Harry's level, carefully not looking at James' name. Harry wouldn't meet his eyes, still running his hands over the grooves and curves of the shell.

"That was a very brave question," said Sirius. "So I want you to be brave when I answer, okay?"

"Okay," Harry whispered.

"The wizard who hurt me…" he glanced up at his only remaining brother, "who hurt Remus… he was not the one who killed your parents. But there was something-a very dark thing-inside of him. That thing is all that's left of the one who… who did this."

"What is his name?"

Sirius swallowed. "Voldemort. Can you say it?"

"Voldemort," repeated Harry carefully.

"Good," said Sirius. "I don't want you to ever be afraid of saying his name, okay?"

"Okay. Is he-Is Voldemort still out there?"

"He is." Anything else Sirius wanted to say caught in his throat, all assurances that Harry would be fine, that Voldemort couldn't hurt him again. But the future was weighed down by a prophecy.

"Don't worry about him right now, Harry," Remus said gently. He was kneeling now too. "He won't be bothering anyone for a very long time."

He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew the golden-hued wand patterned with flowers. Harry looked at it wonderingly. With a slight smile, Remus murmured, "Trade you."

He held out a scarred palm and Harry placed the seashell into it. His green eyes lit up with awe when his hands closed over the wood of the wand.

"Feel it?"

Harry nodded rapidly.

"That was your mother's wand. We're going to return it to her today, if that's okay with you."

"What do I do?" asked Harry.

"I'll tell you. But first, is there anything you'd like to say to your mum and dad?" Remus asked. "It could be anything you want."

Harry blinked down at the wand clutched in his hands.

"I have a best friend. His name is Ron. I'm sorry you can't meet him. Sirius and Remus are taking care of me now and I love them both and they love me. So don't worry. But… but I wish you were here too."

"Very good, Harry," said Remus hoarsely. Sirius could not have spoken if he tried. "If you're ready, you can place it in front of the headstone."

Harry reverently set his mother's wand in the grass.

Remus swept his wand in a low arc. Nothing happened at first. Then, Lily's wand slowly sank below the earth and new shoots sprouted over it, blooming into trumpeted white flowers. Harry touched the petals delicately.

Suddenly, it was too much for Sirius.

He stood abruptly and faced the old tree, breathing slowly through his nose. He heard Remus tell Harry he could go play if he wanted, as long as he stayed inside the wrought-iron fence border and was respectful of the other graves. Sirius closed his eyes and tilted his head back. His hair was longer now. He felt it brush his shoulders and fall back, baring his face to the breeze. He knew Remus was standing next to him now, waiting for him to speak. He worked his throat, easing the hardness away.

"Don't know how you got used to this," he managed eventually.

Remus said nothing, so Sirius opened his eyes and shot him a look, praying he'd understand. What's your secret, Moony? I can't keep falling to pieces like this…

But if Remus got the hint, he made no sign of it.

"That was good," he said instead. "What you said to him about Voldemort."

"I feel like I'm stumbling around blind and deaf," Sirius sighed.

"You're doing fine."

"Is that enough?"

Harry was playing among the headstones a row over, holding Firebreath above his head like the dragon was soaring through the air. Sirius could feel the weight of Remus' stare and the presence of the grave behind them was like a physical wound.

"None of this should have happened," he bit out.

"It did happen," said Remus quietly. His tone indicated that he had understood what Sirius so desperately wanted to ask. And in his own way, he was trying to answer.

"I'm saying it shouldn't have," Sirius said, frustration boiling over. "We were happy, weren't we? We weren't supposed to fight in a war and betray each other and die and have to explain to a child why his parents are dead and why he's still in danger!"

"You can't control those things."

"There were things I could have controlled. If I had, then maybe-"

"James and Lily would still be alive?" Remus asked. His voice was mild, but Sirius could hear a thrum beginning to build underneath. "You wouldn't have gone to Azkaban?"

"This isn't about Azkaban," snapped Sirius wearily.

"You lost more than four years of your life."

"I'm aware of that, thanks."

"And you've spent every free moment since searching for me and looking after Harry and avoiding this place-"

"What's your point?"

"What would you have done if I really was dead?"

Sirius flashed to the other times he'd been asked that question. Annoyed that Remus had brought it up again, he sniped, "I thought we were done playing out what ifs."

"You started it. What would you have done?"

"It doesn't matter anymore."

"If it doesn't matter then why can't you answer?"

Irritated, Sirius went back to watching Harry play. He'd never given a straight answer, because the honest one made his gut curl uncomfortably.

"You said it yourself," he finally whispered with a note of self-derision. "I'm a perpetual motion machine. I wouldn't have stopped. Ever."

He waited for the disappointment to shadow Remus' amber eyes, but it never came. There was only recognition.

"I'm alive, Sirius," he said firmly. "Harry is safe. So let me ask you… Can you stop now?"

Another deceptively simple question. Remus must have heard him awake at night, wandering the house and the yard on four legs. And besides this, Remus knew him too well.

"I went back to Azkaban."

"I know."

"I'm here, at their grave."

"You are."

"There's nothing left to do."

This, more than anything, scared him. There was nothing left to stand between him and the darkest places in his mind. The places that he'd only seen when the dementors ripped him open and bared every hideous chasm. Gouged each one even deeper. And he was terribly afraid of standing still long enough to see those places again. He'd been afraid since he was released. He eyed the werewolf who had so easily dissected him with a few well-placed questions and asked one of his own. "Did it hurt when you stopped running?"

"Who says I have?" Remus smiled sardonically and his eyes were full of shadows. He exhaled slowly and answered, "I'm trying. Pyrites was right about one thing. It's excruciating."

"What is?"

"Facing it. Asking why it happened."

"There shouldn't be a reason. Not one good enough to justify... this."

"So what should we do? Distract ourselves? Run away? Pyrites tried and he became nothing more than a shadow." Remus turned to face James and Lily's grave once more. He shuffled his feet in the grass and Sirius waited. He'd learned long ago that it was worth letting Remus find the words to explain.

"I never got used to it," he finally said. The thoughtful amber gaze flitted to him and Sirius could not conceal his disappointment. "I'm sorry, I know that's not what you want to hear. I stared at that inscription every day, desperate for just one thing to make sense. When it didn't… I guess I've realized… we may never know why there's so much pain and darkness in the world. Why we lost so much. Only I think seeking the answer is what makes us all more... human."

After a long moment, Sirius murmured, "I don't think I've ever heard you refer to yourself as human before."

"This would be the first time." After all of Remus' calm confidence, hesitation stitched the words together. "I have this friend who would never let me settle for less."

Sirius glanced sideways and found Remus looking back. In the dappled shade of the trees, the scars on his face were almost invisible.

"Thank you, Padfoot."

Sirius swallowed. He couldn't speak, so he bumped Remus' shoulder with his. Remus smiled slightly and returned his amber gaze to the grave while Sirius watched Harry across the sun splotched churchyard.

"Was it hard? Seeing this every day?"

"Yes. But it helped, I think. After… after the Mirror. I don't know why."

James and Lily were dead. And for once, Sirius was standing still. Still enough, that perhaps he could even turn around and look.

There were the names in block print, the unfathomable statement about death. Tentatively, he let down his guard. A deluge of hurt took his breath away, but after… he was surprised to find that something was not the same. The empty space that James once occupied was not as raw. Other things were beginning to grow there to soften the jagged edges left by Azkaban.

Remus shifted and spoke into the silence, "Just so we're clear… you're more than enough for Harry, Padfoot. Prongs and Lily would be proud."

Sirius' eyes burned. He clenched his jaw and waited for it to subside. The air was filled with birdsong and crickets. He slowly realized he could hear Harry's voice floating over the graveyard. He looked and saw Harry saying goodbye to a man wearing all black, then running towards him and Remus. An easy smile crossed the stranger's face and he waved to Remus.

"He says he knows Remus," reported Harry to Sirius when he was close enough. "I told him we were visiting my parents."

"And what did he say?" Remus asked.

"He says he's glad you found us," said Harry. "But I told him we found you."

"One way or another," Sirius said. "Come on, let's go home, Prongslet."

He swept Harry up onto his shoulders. Harry giggled and settled Firebreath on top of Sirius' head. He had to duck through the kissing gate, but soon they were making their way along the streets of Godric's Hollow.

"You know you could stay permanently," Sirius pointed out to Remus. "That room isn't a temporary thing."

"Sirius, I couldn't-"

"I'm sure Evaltas would hire you back. He seemed rather put out that you died. Or you don't even have to get a job. My salary and compensation are enough for all of us."

"So would that make me the stay-at-home mom?" Remus asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't be ridiculous, Moony," laughed Sirius. He swung Harry down and set him on the path. "I think stay-at-home werewolf is much more accurate."

"Merlin help me."

"You could homeschool Harry!"

"Yes!" piped Harry from between them.

"This is getting worse."

"Come on, this is a great idea!"

"You only have bad ideas, Padfoot."

"You know you love it." Then, more solemnly, he added, "No more running."

Remus sighed. He ruffled Harry's hair with one hand and shot Sirius a grin.

"Fine."

"Yes!" shouted Harry. He ran ahead, his small feet pattering on the path, Firebreath flapping behind him. Sirius whooped and punched Remus lightly in the arm.

"Hogwarts will never know what hit it!"

"Minerva will never forgive me," Remus sighed. He looked ahead, at the sky turning gold behind the trees. Sirius imagined an owl on the horizon, bearing a letter that had called them both to a place where they found brotherhood. Except this one was for Harry. There would be quidditch and rule-breaking and feasts. Highs and lows.

"Maybe…" started Remus in a soft tone. "Maybe, Sirius, all of this was supposed to happen."

Sirius breathed in deeply. Without a hint of irony, he asked, "Why?"

Remus' mouth twitched into a small, but genuine smile. "That seems like a question that will last a lifetime."

"And you're okay with that?"

"I'm learning to be."

Sirius nodded slowly, not yet decided if he agreed. But at that moment, Harry called out, "Padfoot! Play tag!"

With a bark of laughter, Sirius transformed and zipped after him. They played chase until the horizon was purple and they were far out in the countryside. Then they apparated to a different patch of field and made their way towards home.

It was the only cottage for miles, nestled between tree-lined fields and open skies. A little boy raced up the path and the wind blew back his bangs to reveal a lightning-shaped scar. A jet black dog romped after him, punctuating the air with exhilarated barks. And following was a tall man with a scarred face and graying hair and tired eyes. A waxing half moon hung above him. But a smile lightened his weary features. For now, they did not worry about the darkness still prowling the earth or a prophecy whose closing words spoke death. Those things would come, and they would face them together. Theirs was a family that was not quite traditional, not quite whole, but these things did not matter.

They were a family of people who had been found.

The End.

"To be human is to be an incarnate 'why.'" -Lorenzo Albacete

A/N: The whole theme of this story was inspired by the quote above, which I heard a long time ago and always mystified me. So I grappled with it by writing. But I don't want to overburden you with my own thoughts (you've read until the end and that's enough). Whether this tale made you think or touched you one way or another or you simply enjoyed a different take on the "Sirius is released early" storyline, I hope you got something out this. I certainly gained a lot writing it. This has been quite a journey with plenty of surprises (totally falling in love with Mad-Eye Moody) and changes (so. many. changes.) along the way. I don't think I can ever fully express my gratitude to the people who have reviewed and favorited and followed, so hopefully my notes at the beginning of each chapter will suffice.

Many people have already asked about a sequel. If you're wondering, the short answer is no, I'm not going to write one. I think I've wrung everything I can out of these particular character arcs. This story had a different goal in mind, so I always intended to leave Voldemort alive and the prophecy unfulfilled. I won't say it isn't tempting, because it is hard to say good-bye to something that took so much time to develop. In the end, I envision Harry's story unfolding much as it did, except for the obvious changes I made. Perhaps I'll write a few one shots if I'm bored. But there are other things I'd like to write...

No, I am not done writing about the Marauders. I have a few things in mind already, characters I've never explored, parts of their story I'd like to delve into more deeply. So, either check out my profile for other work (if you haven't read Before We Fall, you should), or follow me for new content. No promises on a timeline for this.

I would love to hear your final thoughts and comments. Otherwise, farewell and mischief managed.

-Cat

To my sister who teaches me the beauty of reality and the adventure of living a full life. And to my godchild, that she may always know that she is loved.