Hearing, Doubting, Knowing
By Indus
Taking a page from Ithica's book (or fic), for my twenty-first birthday I am posting a fic that has been bouncing around my head for a while. Part b should be up in the next few days. Well, read and review! Disclaimer: Again, no copyright of JK Rowling and publishers of Harry Potter intended. This is for non-commercial uses only. Any original characters are mine and I am usually willing to share if my permission is asked. Warning: Slash alert! Otherwise a PG-13 story
Summary: What if Sirius told Remus the truth?
Pairing: My all-time favorite Sirius/Remus
I did not apparate. It would take me three weeks to become emotionally stable enough to apparate without splinching. That was, as everything has always been for me, good and bad at the same time. Traveling on the bus both gave me time to think and, well, time to think.
I don't remember those first three weeks very well. I wasn't drunk, just in shock. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism. Maybe my mind and heart shut down to protect me from feeling the loss.
While my own emotions eluded me for many weeks and months after Voldemort's fall, my senses were in fine working order. I can still feel those glances, those horrible, soul-sucking glances. There were two prevailing emotions I sensed. Pity for the one left behind- the orphan who lost the only people who loved him and who would have mourned if he played Quidditch in heavy Muggle traffic. And then there was the suspicion. Those were dangerous times, and I was the only one who survived that Halloween unscathed and sane. There are moments when the old story is resurrected, or maybe I should say stirred up again since the story and the fascination it holds have never died for most wizards. And when they discuss it, they remember that I was the only one who escaped unscathed. I use the word unscathed since that is how someone described me in one of those cheap rags. They never realized that eighteen years of lycanthropy left me less scars that those that formed on my heart and soul in that one moment when I received the news of James and Lily's deaths together with a detailed account of Peter's death at the hands of my best friend and lover, Sirius Black. I don't blame them for not seeing my scars; I myself did not feel them for a long time. As I said, I don't remember November of 1981 very well, but I don't think I wept once at their funerals or at the sentencing.
There is one thing I remember; one morning that lives in perfect clarity in my mind despite the fogginess of the hours before and afterward.
The morning that became my food when I was hungry, my bed when I could not afford a place to sleep and my mate when my body and heart pined for love's touch.
The morning I met with Sirius Black, just one week after the Halloween a traitor made Harry Potter an orphan.
*
It was Dumbledore's doing, of course. Everything in my life since I was eleven was made possible by Albus Dumbledore. Severus once called me his bitch. While I find it a little disturbing to think of the Headmaster in such terms, I would probably eat with silverware for the rest of my life if it would make him even a little happy.
He came to my home the morning after the full moon. I had learned enough from Poppy to heal the less serious injuries and stop the heavy bleeding, but I must have looked a fright. He had barely even seen me before he put a sleeping spell on me. I was out for about twenty-four hours.
When I woke up, he was there. And he told me that he had arranged for me to meet with Sirius Black.
I had, of course, seen Sirius in the papers, laughing like a madman and I wondered why Dumbledore would want me to meet with someone who had just killed my three best friends and was obviously not quite all there. But Sirius was more than just the man who did those things, he was also the boy who had risked his life to give me a night's peace in a month, and who had shared my bed from our sixth year at Hogwarts until October 30th. Besides, Dumbledore and I both knew that if I did not meet him and answer some of the questions in my head, I would not survive the next full moon. So I went to the cell they were keeping him in before he was transported to Azkaban.
He did not look like the Sirius I had known and loved. This man with matted hair and wild eyes could well have killed. He had once played with my life and that of Severus Snape, and only showed remorse to me. Towards Severus he had displayed a snide spitefulness and satisfaction at a prank well- played. But there was none of that triumph. True, many of Voldemort's former allies were now showing fear and obsequiousness, especially when faced with Azkaban, but those who had participated in the worst willingly, like the Lestranges, were still defiant. And Sirius could only have betrayed his best friend to his death willingly, but he showed even less emotion than I did.
He looked me over from head to toe. Despite his imprisonment, he obviously knew about the recent full moon, and remembered how Moony reacts to Remus Lupin's pain. Could such a concerned lover be a traitor, an evil minion of the Dark Lord Voldemort? But then again, I am alive.
"Was it very bad?" That those were his first words pierced me to my very soul.
"It is no longer any business of yours, but yes it was. I was alone, and grieving." Perhaps I meant to hurt as I would suffer for the rest of my life.
He winced, and emotions returned to his face in a rush. Suddenly, I saw the same boy standing in front of me who had never been able to hide what he felt, which is why the Slytherins had always known who played those pranks on them. It wasn't fair. I hated the murderer, but I could not hate the boy, and he kept reminding me that he was both.
He leaned forward and grasped my hand. "It wasn't me Moony, I swear!"
I sat still, waiting with bated breath. Oh please Sirius, tell me that you and James and Lily decided not to do the charm, or that Voldemort managed to get it out of you unwillingly. Tell me something, anything, and I will believe you.
But his next words shattered those hopes.
"It was Peter."
I wrenched my hand free and got up. For the first time since I was bitten, I was on the verge of losing my temper. The wolf reared its head and growled within me, and I could hear it in my voice. "Don't even say his name, Sirius. And don't you dare blame him. I don't know if you are as mad as they say, but even insanity is no excuse to say my dead friend, one of my best friends, was responsible for that carnage!"
Walking to the door, I rapped it smartly to signify the end of the meeting. This mission of Dumbledore's was a failure, or so I had thought.
He was on his feet and standing in front of me in one smooth motion. Grabbing the front of my robes, he forced me to listen. It was too soon after the transformation for me to successfully push him away, and he had not been imprisoned long enough to become weak.
"Think about it, Remus. I was the most obvious Secret-Keeper, wasn't I? James and I were best friends all of our lives, and nothing that happened interfered with that, not even falling in love."
I stopped my futile struggles and began to listen.
"I knew they would come after me, and I also knew that even the strongest spells can be broken by powerful wizards. And there was only Dumbledore who was more powerful than Voldemort. So I decided to change Secret-Keepers, and we chose Peter instead. I led James and Lily to their deaths, but it was all unknowingly, I swear."
Laughing derisively, I asked him if he expected me to believe it was Peter. Before he could answer, the guards came in and dragged him off me.
He struggled against their holds, and pushed them off. It was almost pathetic to see him run towards me, only to be tackled by the guards and land at my feet. They grabbed him again, but he still screamed an explanation to me. "We've been together for years! If you think I could hide an alliance with Voldemort from you, why don't you believe it of Peter?"
"Because it's Peter!" By now I was interested enough to try to follow him, but they would not let me. They pulled him down a long corridor, moving slowly due to his continued yelling.
"He cut off his finger, Remus! He set me up, killed those people and then disappeared down the gutter. They weren't looking for a rat missing a finger!"
I stood still in shock, hardly noticing as someone stunned him into silence.
It was almost plausible.
A voice from behind me drew me out of my fevered thoughts. "What is he talking about?"
I turned. Dumbledore stood there, a majestic figure in those dark surroundings, but confusion clouded his blue eyes. Mumbling something about Sirius being a little crazy, I dismissed his inquiry.
I could have told him. I think I might even have convinced him to investigate. But that would mean telling the Headmaster about his three unregistered Animagi students and exposing me. If it would free an innocent man, I would gladly take out a ten-page advertisement stating that I was a werewolf and my best friends at Hogwarts had become Animagi to help me endure my transformations, but I did not think my doing so would help anyone. Even if I could convince Dumbledore that Sirius may be innocent, something I was by no means ready to believe yet, even the most powerful wizard could not open such an inquiry when public support was firmly on the side of poor Mrs. Pettigrew. Most certainly not on the words of a werewolf.
There was also the promise Lily had made the marauders make the day she gave birth to her son. She had asked us all to swear that whatever happened, and to whom, those left behind would care for her son. She was Muggle-born and a member of the Order, and therefore at risk. It had been an easy oath for all of us, as we stood over the cradle and looked at the small scrap of humanity who was completely incapable of deceit, treachery and self-preservation. And I was the only one remaining. I knew that I could not raise him, but I would keep an eye on him from afar. I did not believe he had vanquished Voldemort once and for all, but whatever had happened in that room with Harry, it was obvious that his story was far from over. Yes Lily, I will do for him what I can, but then I cannot compromise myself.
So I stayed silent, but I did not tell the guards to watch for a dog as well as a man. If he was innocent, Sirius would need all of Padfoot's help. And as I walked away, I wondered if by keeping silent I had just given a serial killer a chance to escape and commit more murders.
By Indus
Taking a page from Ithica's book (or fic), for my twenty-first birthday I am posting a fic that has been bouncing around my head for a while. Part b should be up in the next few days. Well, read and review! Disclaimer: Again, no copyright of JK Rowling and publishers of Harry Potter intended. This is for non-commercial uses only. Any original characters are mine and I am usually willing to share if my permission is asked. Warning: Slash alert! Otherwise a PG-13 story
Summary: What if Sirius told Remus the truth?
Pairing: My all-time favorite Sirius/Remus
I did not apparate. It would take me three weeks to become emotionally stable enough to apparate without splinching. That was, as everything has always been for me, good and bad at the same time. Traveling on the bus both gave me time to think and, well, time to think.
I don't remember those first three weeks very well. I wasn't drunk, just in shock. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism. Maybe my mind and heart shut down to protect me from feeling the loss.
While my own emotions eluded me for many weeks and months after Voldemort's fall, my senses were in fine working order. I can still feel those glances, those horrible, soul-sucking glances. There were two prevailing emotions I sensed. Pity for the one left behind- the orphan who lost the only people who loved him and who would have mourned if he played Quidditch in heavy Muggle traffic. And then there was the suspicion. Those were dangerous times, and I was the only one who survived that Halloween unscathed and sane. There are moments when the old story is resurrected, or maybe I should say stirred up again since the story and the fascination it holds have never died for most wizards. And when they discuss it, they remember that I was the only one who escaped unscathed. I use the word unscathed since that is how someone described me in one of those cheap rags. They never realized that eighteen years of lycanthropy left me less scars that those that formed on my heart and soul in that one moment when I received the news of James and Lily's deaths together with a detailed account of Peter's death at the hands of my best friend and lover, Sirius Black. I don't blame them for not seeing my scars; I myself did not feel them for a long time. As I said, I don't remember November of 1981 very well, but I don't think I wept once at their funerals or at the sentencing.
There is one thing I remember; one morning that lives in perfect clarity in my mind despite the fogginess of the hours before and afterward.
The morning that became my food when I was hungry, my bed when I could not afford a place to sleep and my mate when my body and heart pined for love's touch.
The morning I met with Sirius Black, just one week after the Halloween a traitor made Harry Potter an orphan.
*
It was Dumbledore's doing, of course. Everything in my life since I was eleven was made possible by Albus Dumbledore. Severus once called me his bitch. While I find it a little disturbing to think of the Headmaster in such terms, I would probably eat with silverware for the rest of my life if it would make him even a little happy.
He came to my home the morning after the full moon. I had learned enough from Poppy to heal the less serious injuries and stop the heavy bleeding, but I must have looked a fright. He had barely even seen me before he put a sleeping spell on me. I was out for about twenty-four hours.
When I woke up, he was there. And he told me that he had arranged for me to meet with Sirius Black.
I had, of course, seen Sirius in the papers, laughing like a madman and I wondered why Dumbledore would want me to meet with someone who had just killed my three best friends and was obviously not quite all there. But Sirius was more than just the man who did those things, he was also the boy who had risked his life to give me a night's peace in a month, and who had shared my bed from our sixth year at Hogwarts until October 30th. Besides, Dumbledore and I both knew that if I did not meet him and answer some of the questions in my head, I would not survive the next full moon. So I went to the cell they were keeping him in before he was transported to Azkaban.
He did not look like the Sirius I had known and loved. This man with matted hair and wild eyes could well have killed. He had once played with my life and that of Severus Snape, and only showed remorse to me. Towards Severus he had displayed a snide spitefulness and satisfaction at a prank well- played. But there was none of that triumph. True, many of Voldemort's former allies were now showing fear and obsequiousness, especially when faced with Azkaban, but those who had participated in the worst willingly, like the Lestranges, were still defiant. And Sirius could only have betrayed his best friend to his death willingly, but he showed even less emotion than I did.
He looked me over from head to toe. Despite his imprisonment, he obviously knew about the recent full moon, and remembered how Moony reacts to Remus Lupin's pain. Could such a concerned lover be a traitor, an evil minion of the Dark Lord Voldemort? But then again, I am alive.
"Was it very bad?" That those were his first words pierced me to my very soul.
"It is no longer any business of yours, but yes it was. I was alone, and grieving." Perhaps I meant to hurt as I would suffer for the rest of my life.
He winced, and emotions returned to his face in a rush. Suddenly, I saw the same boy standing in front of me who had never been able to hide what he felt, which is why the Slytherins had always known who played those pranks on them. It wasn't fair. I hated the murderer, but I could not hate the boy, and he kept reminding me that he was both.
He leaned forward and grasped my hand. "It wasn't me Moony, I swear!"
I sat still, waiting with bated breath. Oh please Sirius, tell me that you and James and Lily decided not to do the charm, or that Voldemort managed to get it out of you unwillingly. Tell me something, anything, and I will believe you.
But his next words shattered those hopes.
"It was Peter."
I wrenched my hand free and got up. For the first time since I was bitten, I was on the verge of losing my temper. The wolf reared its head and growled within me, and I could hear it in my voice. "Don't even say his name, Sirius. And don't you dare blame him. I don't know if you are as mad as they say, but even insanity is no excuse to say my dead friend, one of my best friends, was responsible for that carnage!"
Walking to the door, I rapped it smartly to signify the end of the meeting. This mission of Dumbledore's was a failure, or so I had thought.
He was on his feet and standing in front of me in one smooth motion. Grabbing the front of my robes, he forced me to listen. It was too soon after the transformation for me to successfully push him away, and he had not been imprisoned long enough to become weak.
"Think about it, Remus. I was the most obvious Secret-Keeper, wasn't I? James and I were best friends all of our lives, and nothing that happened interfered with that, not even falling in love."
I stopped my futile struggles and began to listen.
"I knew they would come after me, and I also knew that even the strongest spells can be broken by powerful wizards. And there was only Dumbledore who was more powerful than Voldemort. So I decided to change Secret-Keepers, and we chose Peter instead. I led James and Lily to their deaths, but it was all unknowingly, I swear."
Laughing derisively, I asked him if he expected me to believe it was Peter. Before he could answer, the guards came in and dragged him off me.
He struggled against their holds, and pushed them off. It was almost pathetic to see him run towards me, only to be tackled by the guards and land at my feet. They grabbed him again, but he still screamed an explanation to me. "We've been together for years! If you think I could hide an alliance with Voldemort from you, why don't you believe it of Peter?"
"Because it's Peter!" By now I was interested enough to try to follow him, but they would not let me. They pulled him down a long corridor, moving slowly due to his continued yelling.
"He cut off his finger, Remus! He set me up, killed those people and then disappeared down the gutter. They weren't looking for a rat missing a finger!"
I stood still in shock, hardly noticing as someone stunned him into silence.
It was almost plausible.
A voice from behind me drew me out of my fevered thoughts. "What is he talking about?"
I turned. Dumbledore stood there, a majestic figure in those dark surroundings, but confusion clouded his blue eyes. Mumbling something about Sirius being a little crazy, I dismissed his inquiry.
I could have told him. I think I might even have convinced him to investigate. But that would mean telling the Headmaster about his three unregistered Animagi students and exposing me. If it would free an innocent man, I would gladly take out a ten-page advertisement stating that I was a werewolf and my best friends at Hogwarts had become Animagi to help me endure my transformations, but I did not think my doing so would help anyone. Even if I could convince Dumbledore that Sirius may be innocent, something I was by no means ready to believe yet, even the most powerful wizard could not open such an inquiry when public support was firmly on the side of poor Mrs. Pettigrew. Most certainly not on the words of a werewolf.
There was also the promise Lily had made the marauders make the day she gave birth to her son. She had asked us all to swear that whatever happened, and to whom, those left behind would care for her son. She was Muggle-born and a member of the Order, and therefore at risk. It had been an easy oath for all of us, as we stood over the cradle and looked at the small scrap of humanity who was completely incapable of deceit, treachery and self-preservation. And I was the only one remaining. I knew that I could not raise him, but I would keep an eye on him from afar. I did not believe he had vanquished Voldemort once and for all, but whatever had happened in that room with Harry, it was obvious that his story was far from over. Yes Lily, I will do for him what I can, but then I cannot compromise myself.
So I stayed silent, but I did not tell the guards to watch for a dog as well as a man. If he was innocent, Sirius would need all of Padfoot's help. And as I walked away, I wondered if by keeping silent I had just given a serial killer a chance to escape and commit more murders.