Weakness and Strength
by Melarocco

Note: A one-off that took too long to actually finish but that I've wanted to write for ages. Somehow I don't think the theme is original, but this is my own particular version. Beta-ing credit goes to Crimsonobsession, without whom this would never have reached a release-able state!

"There's nothing you can do Harry… nothing… he's gone."

Gone.

Even as he said the words, as he grabbed Harry and held him tightly, refusing to let him kill himself to try to save Sirius, Remus Lupin could scarcely believe the words himself. He desperately fought back tears to keep himself in control, knowing the moment he let go he would collapse, be utterly useless. At the same time he had to suppress the urge to let his primal instincts take over and let the monster inside him out to destroy Sirius' killer, knowing that while it might succeed it would probably kill everyone else around it as well. He struggled to keep control of himself for his own sake, for Harry, for Dumbledore. For Sirius.

Swallowing against the rising bile in his throat he kept his voice as level as he could while he questioned Neville about the others, relief running through him when he realised that Sirius was the only casualty, physically at least. Harry had stopped struggling so he relaxed his grip as they moved, was unable to grab the boy in time when he darted away to find Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Harry – no!"

He started after the boy as Harry ran past several people, all of whom he ignored as they called out for him to stop. Remus stopped when Dumbledore stepped in front of him, meeting his eyes with compassion. Wordlessly, Remus' shoulders slumped and he nodded, knowing in the state he was in he would be in just as much danger as Harry. With a whirl of his cloak the Hogwarts Headmaster was gone, leaving Remus to deal with the aftermath of the battle alone. Turning away from the direction they had gone, and putting his back to the dark doorway, Remus turned his attention to the others.

Afterwards, having been checked over by healers in St. Mungos, Lupin retreated for the relative safety of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, every step feeling as though someone else was taking it, every second passing in someone else's life. When he reached the house Molly was there waiting, watching him walk up the steps from the kitchen window. He trudged through the hallway, ignoring the moaning of the paintings even as he wanted to rip them from the walls and destroy them all. Mrs Weasley approached him with a sad expression on her face, but the last thing he needed at that moment was to deal with someone else's sympathy.

"Remus…" she said softly, trailing off when he turned red-rimmed eyes on her, from which he had still not let tears fall in all the days since the… fight.

"I'm going to my room, Molly," he said in a calm, hoarse voice, every word a battle to keep from cracking. "I'm going to lock the door. Please… leave me alone."

She hesitated, then nodded, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm. He walked past her and up the stairs, closing the door to his room behind him and turning the key in the lock.

Once there he looked around blankly, unsure of what to do. His eyes were drawn to the table beside his bed, where there were two photographs, both of himself and Sirius. The first had been taken some time during their fifth or sixth year at Hogwarts, and if he recalled correctly it was James who had taken it. They had been relaxing by the lake after an exam and James had a new camera to play with. He had told them to pose, so Sirius had dragged a reluctant Remus to his feet, forcing him to drop the book he was reading and throwing an arm around his shoulders, pulling him up close. Remus still remembered the feeling of being close to his handsome friend but then, that had hardly been the first, or last, time. Laughing at the dazed expression on his werewolf friend's face, James had taken the picture.

The second picture was much more recent, taken just a few weeks ago by Molly at Sirius' request. The two men in it looked haggard and gaunt, weighed down by the events in their lives, a far cry from the happy smiles of the boys in the other photo. When the picture was developed, Sirius had handed it to Remus with a hesitant smile.

"For all the good times, Moony," he had said with a soft tone Remus had not heard from him in a very long time.

Sitting heavily on the bed, Remus picked up the first photo, fingers gripping the frame so tightly his knuckles turned white. Finally he let himself go, his tears beginning to fall silently, leaving trails down his cheeks as they splashed onto the glass of the photo frame. In the picture Sirius flinched out of the way of the drops and waved a fist at him, while his own picture-self ignored everything in favour of staring at his friend. Irrationally, Remus was jealous of his young self in that instant, able to spend every moment of his existence with the handsome, dark-haired boy next to him.

Folding in on himself the werewolf curled up into a foetal position on the bed, clutching the photo to his chest as painful sobs started to wrack his body, choked gasps that hurt his throat and stomach, the tears still falling making his eyes burn. Crying like a broken-hearted child, Remus grieved. Dimly he heard other movement in the house but rather than feeling comforted by knowing there were others around him he sunk deeper into himself, angry at the intrusion upon his grief. He cried until he was too exhausted to move, until he ached all over and he had to keep his eyes closed because to open them meant he had to go back to reality. Slowly, as his sobs subsided into sorrowful tears, Remus drifted into his memories…

Cautiously, Remus made his way up the stairs to the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. He paused halfway up the final staircase, staring up at the large painting covering the doorway without really seeing it. Professor McGonnagall had left him on the ground floor, after reassuring herself that he was okay. Although it was hardly the first time she had collected him from the Shrieking Shack after he had spent his time as the monster inside him she never seemed to lose her concern for him afterwards. She was one of the few teachers at the school who knew his secret and whenever Dumbledore was unable to take him out to the Whomping Willow himself, she was almost always there in his place.

Remus winced and rubbed at a particularly nasty scratch on his shoulder. Sometimes after a transformation he would be nearly unmarked. Other times, such as now, the wolf would go crazy as soon as it was released and, deprived of human victims, it would turn on itself. It was the young Remus, however, who had to deal with the aftermath.

A rumble below indicated that the stairs were on the move so he ran up the remainder two at a time, reaching the top just as they slid out from behind him. He paused to catch his breath, holding his side which was badly bruised from where he had been throwing himself around in the Shack.

"Fizzing Whizzbees," he said to the woman in the painting, who gave him a disapproving look but refrained from commenting as the frame swung aside to allow him to enter.

Rather than head up to the dormitory he shared with James, Sirius and Peter he seated himself gingerly in one of the large chairs in front of the fireplace, which now only contained a last few dying embers. It would start to become light soon, the moon having dropped below the horizon some time ago.

Then with one last splutter the fire kicked up again with one small flame before the last ember died away, leaving Remus staring once again unseeing at the blackness of the fireplace, mind whirling as it always did when he returned. He knew he had to decide which lie he was going to tell his dorm mates this time, all the time feeling a gnawing ache in the pit of his stomach for the necessity. They were his friends, the first and only friends he had ever had. Every moment of every day since he had realised he could call them friends had been filled with the need to tell them, to get it into the open. Always in the back of his mind were the admonitions of his parents, and the Headmaster, that to speak of his affliction would destroy his life at Hogwarts. Having known the other three boys for nearly a year now he knew he could trust them with his life, just as he knew he would never have the courage to tell them of his shame.

Heaving out a heavy sigh he closed his eyes, feeling a sense of hopelessness welling up inside him, not for the first time. Unbidden, a tear rolled down his cheek, an escaping fragment of the misery he fought so hard to contain. Drawing a shuddering breath he tried to compose himself, knowing that tomorrow when he woke in his bed with the others around him, asking questions without ever pushing him for answers, the last few days would seem like a dream – a nightmare. He would be able to have a couple of weeks of normal life before the next month's Change started to prey on his mind.

A change in the texture of the air in the room made him go very still. This soon after a transformation his senses were always a little strange, so he felt rather than heard someone else in the room with him. Opening his eyes slowly he found Sirius standing against the far wall, watching him with his bright eyes, a small frown marring his handsome face. When he saw Remus' eyes open he stepped forward slowly, putting on a careful smile.

"Remus," he said softly, his tone one of greeting. "It's good to have you back."

"Thanks," the seated boy replied, his voice wavering slightly, something that, judging by the flicker that crossed his friend's face, did not go unnoticed. "It… it's good to be back."

Sirius crossed the room, wearing only a pair of pyjama bottoms, bare chest and feet. He stopped by Remus' chair and crouched down, leaning on the arm of the chair for support. Remus watched him, trying to keep his face expressionless.

"Why were you gone this time?"

Something about the way he said it made Remus look at him sharply, seeing nothing but the guileless expression Sirius was such a master at adopting, but knowing his friend too well to miss the unspoken words that were practically an accusation.

"I… My mother…" Remus muttered, glancing down at his hands but jerking his gaze back up when he saw the scratches on their backs. He watched helplessly as Sirius' gaze also dropped, then as his slender hands reached out to gently grip Remus', to push his sleeves back and reveal the long scratches up his arms.

"Remus…" he whispered, raising eyes full of concerns and questions.

"They're nothing," Remus said shortly, snatching his hands away and tugging his sleeves back down.

"How long are you going to keep it up?" Sirius asked softly, sitting back on his haunches and gazing up at his friend without rancour. The gentle expression on his face nearly broke Remus' resolve there and then but he swallowed the impulse to speak and instead shrugged.

"I don't know what you mean. My mum's been ill, and I had to visit her."

"Yeah, I know. Last month it was the same thing, then before that it was something else." Sirius' voice was calm as he spoke, as if he had no idea of the terror his words were producing in his fellow Gryffindor. His gaze, however, was avoiding Remus' face but was fixed on his clasped hands. "It's taken me most of the year to work out what the pattern was to when you were going. But it finally hit me the other day. Probably wouldn't have, but I was marking off the days you were gone on one of those calendars James' parents gave us for Christmas. You know – the ones with the phases of the moon on them?"

Remus went utterly still, eyes so wide they were almost hurting, mouth open and his breathing suddenly very shallow. Like a rabbit in headlights he stared as Sirius kept talking.

"So I thought, 'What could be taking Remus away every full moon and bringing him back with scratches and bruises?'. We've all seen them," he added in a conversational tone, "we've come up with some pretty wild stories about where they came from, too."

"Y… you've been talking about me?" Remus finally found his voice enough to stammer out an indignant protest. Sirius gave him a mildly condescending look.

"Rem, you're our friend and you disappear for a few days every month, come back half the time with injuries that you never talk about. We were worried. Of course we talked about you. Anyway," Sirius went on before Remus could interrupt again, "last time I thought there was a bite mark on your arm. An animal associated with the full moon…"

"Please…" Remus whispered, stomach in knots, tears starting to run down his face.

"But that didn't make any sense. Why would you be visiting one of them every month? So then I wondered, what if-"

"Don't…"

"What if you were a-"

"Please don't say it," Remus begged, leaning forward in the chair and gripping Sirius' shoulders. "Please don't…"

The tears were running freely down his face now and his breath was coming in sobs as he stared pleadingly into Sirius' eyes, not knowing how to interpret the calmness he found there.

"Is it true?" Sirius asked, reaching up to put his hands over Remus' where they were resting on his shoulders. "Are you?"

Remus gulped desperately for air as his body convulsed with sobs. Dropping his gaze to the floor between them he finally broke and nodded, unable to speak the words he had promised he would never say, pulling his hands away as if afraid even his touch would disgust Sirius now he knew the truth. When Sirius stayed silent and motionless Remus started to curl up on himself, drawing himself into a ball to try to block out the world that had just been torn away from him by his one of his best friends.

Before he could, Sirius rose up on his knees and wrapped his arms around his friend, pulling him close and holding him tightly. Remus fought him for a moment, trying to push him away, but Sirius was stronger and he held on until he felt his friend give in and collapse against him, head resting on Sirius' shoulder as tears ran down his bare body.

"It's going to be okay," Sirius whispered against Remus' hair when the other boy's scratched arms wrapped around him as though they would never let go.

Irrationally, in that moment Remus believed him.

"How could you do that to me?" Remus was shouting at Sirius, who was standing on the other side of the room in the Shrieking Shack, a pained expression on his face as he faced the furious Remus. "You're supposed to be my friend, you're supposed to be…"

Remus trailed off into silence as his voice broke, staring across at Sirius with a pleading expression, begging him to say it had been a mistake, it had been unintentional. Cautiously the dark-haired boy approached, stopping a few feet away and holding out his hands in an apologetic gesture.

"I know," he said softly, "I didn't… I…"

"You didn't what, Sirius?" Remus asked softly, bitingly as he realised no such words would be forthcoming. Sirius winced as his friend continued. "You didn't mean it? You accidentally sent Snape in here when you knew I'd be… that thing… what would happen…"

"N…no…" Sirius admitted, swallowing, "It was meant to be a joke…" even as he said it his face screwed up, obviously knowing how it sounded.

"A joke?" Remus practically snarled, fists clenching at his sides. "You bastard, I could have killed him!" Sirius practically cringed away from his fury, but Remus went on without pausing. "Snape might be an idiot, but to do that to him… and to me…"

He shook his head, still hardly able to believe what Sirius had done. His words obviously had an effect on Sirius, who closed the gap and grabbed Remus' hands, holding them tightly.

"I wasn't thinking," he said desperately, "I was stupid, I didn't mean to do anything to you, I didn't think…"

"No, you didn't. After all this time, you still don't think, do you?" Remus said to him, tilting his head to one side and shaking his head with something that was part sadness and part disappointment. He gently removed his hands from Sirius' grasp. "After everything we've been through, everything you've said to me, you still thought of how it would be funny to send Snape in here when I was that thing before you thought about what might happen, what it would do to me."

"I'm sorry," Sirius blurted, arms dropping limply to his sides as he desperately begged for forgiveness. Remus closed his eyes with a pained expression.

"I believe you," he said softly, opening his eyes to find a growing expression of hope on Sirius' face. "I just don't know whether it's enough." The speed at which Sirius' face dropped nearly broke Remus' heart, and he took a breath to strengthen his resolve. "Something like this… I don't know if I can forgive you. You know how much the beast inside me terrifies me, but it didn't stop you. You know what it's capable of and you sent a boy in here to face it, totally unprepared…"

"I was just outside!" Sirius told him. "Nothing would have happened…"

"You know how fast that thing moves!" Remus shouted him down, voice hot with anger. "It… I could have killed him before you could even get in the room!"

Sirius fell silent, knowing that what Remus said was true.

Remus turned away, glaring at the wall as he regained his temper. "Even if I forgive you," he said eventually in a low tone, "I don't know that I could ever forget." Tears ran down his cheeks as he gazed over at Sirius, who was fighting back tears of his own.

"Moony," Sirius said, voice choking as he spoke, "I… I love you…"

Remus caught his breath as Sirius started crying, forcing himself to harden his heart. He took one step forward, failing to keep his emotions under control and for one second he knew Sirius could see the words on his face, even if they were not spoken aloud. With an iron effort of will, a glance around them reminding him why they were there in the first place, he held still, watching Sirius' face crumple as he drove all emotion out of his face, returning the other boy's words with silence.

"If that was true," he finally said, coldly, "we wouldn't be here now."

Sirius' renewed sobbing behind him, he started down the stairs, ignoring his own tears as they streamed down his face.

A knocking at the locked door broke into his awareness – nothing more than a gentle tapping but still enough to tear him from his memories. Wearily raising his face from where it had been resting in the crook of one of his arms, blinking tearful, sore eyes, Remus swallowed heavily against the lump in his throat and fixed the door with a baleful stare. After a few seconds the knocking repeated.
His first attempt to speak was nothing more than a rasping croak that degenerated into a cough, which sent a sharp pain through his chest, aching from the sobbing he had been doing. Recovering, he tried once more.

"Leave me alone."

He winced at the sound of his own voice, which sounded terrible, like someone else. Shifting position he set his back against the headboard of the bed, drawing his knees up to his chin and hugging them with his arms. Beside him the two photographs were sat on the covers and all it took was a glance at the gently smiling face of Sirius in the more recent one to start the tears falling again. This time, however, they were less frantic, more mournful than distressed. He sniffed and, without thinking, wiped his nose on the arm of his shirt. The movement made him stop and stare at the damp patch on the cloth, reminded for the first time in years of the way Sirius had nagged him out of that particular habit when no-one else, not even his mother, had been able to.

"Remus."

Molly's soft voice drifted through the wood, drawing his attention back to the present.

"Please, Molly…" he managed, forcing his voice to be loud enough that Mrs. Weasley would hear him.

"Remus, my dear, you've been in there all night and morning. It's lunchtime, and you missed dinner as well as breakfast," Molly's voice was gently persuasive, a tone she had undoubtedly perfected after years of raising the Weasley clan.

Remus blinked as her words sank in, looking over at the curtains, which did indeed have the bright light of day shining against them. At least twelve hours must have passed since his arrival at the house.

"You have to eat, Remus," she added, more firmly. "You… have to."

Pausing for several moments with indecision over whether to ignore her, shout at her or let her in, eventually his good manners, driven into him over the years, won out. Slowly he manoeuvred himself off the bed, mildly alarmed to find his legs so unstable as he walked to the door, shoes loud on the floorboards. Hesitating again with his hand on the door handle he finally opened it, to find Molly standing with a tray of food, a sad smile on her face.

"Good boy," she said in such a familiar tone that Remus could not help but smile back, weakly. He turned away and moved to sit back on the bed, staring at his hands which were clasped in front of him, working against each other in a repetitive rubbing motion. Molly watched him silently for a moment before setting the tray down on a rickety chair and crossing the room to sit on the bed beside him. Tentatively she reached out and took hold of one of his hands with both of hers, stilling their movement. Remus froze, going completely still, barely even breathing as he stared at their hands in his lap. Eventually he raised his eyes to meet Molly's level, tender gaze, looking like a lost child.

"Molly…" he whispered, suddenly looking confused, eyes darting around the room and mouth working silently. "Wh… what am I going to do?"
She caught her breath with a little gasp, squeezing his hand with hers.

"What you have been doing," she said, definite but kind. "Grieve. And then, one day…"

"Don't say I'll move on," he muttered harshly, gripping her hands in return for the first time, eyes turning fierce for one brief moment before he suddenly went limp. "He… he was…"

"I know," she murmured comfortingly, putting an arm over his shoulders and rubbing his back carefully.

"No, you don't," he whimpered, hating the tears as they fell once more. "I loved him… I…"

"I know," she repeated firmly, causing him to glance up at her with a surprised expression as the tears stopped falling, which she met with a knowing, reassuring smile. "Remus, I was in this house with Sirius more than anyone else. I saw the two of you together, I watched you both as you spent time together again, after so long… I took that photograph" she gestured at one of the frames on the bed and fell silent. Sighing softly she drew his head down to rest on her shoulder, an action to which he willingly surrendered. Reaching over, she picked up the photo. "Look at the two of you," she said fondly. "That man could irritate me no end, but when he talked about you… he was a different person, Remus."

He sighed brokenly as she spoke, thinking over the few short months they had had together since Sirius' escape. Neither of them had attempted to rekindle their previous relationship but had instead revelled in the sheer joy they both felt simply by being together. Rather than try to pick up where they had left off they had instead started the slow process of building something new out of the chaos their lives had become.

"I loved him, Molly," he said again, stronger this time. "Even all those years when I hated him, I still loved him. I've never stopped. I don't think I ever will."

Closing her eyes at the pain in his voice, she hugged him tighter. "I know dear," she said, "but I don't think that's a bad thing. Remember him. Love him. He deserves nothing less. But whether we want it to or not, our lives go on, and we still have so much to do."

He bit back a sob. "I don't know if I can, he was my strength…"

"And he still is," Molly interrupted him forcefully. "Now more than ever."

Her words hit home. He drew a shuddering breath and straightened, glancing down at his rumpled clothes with a quirk of his lips. Looking over at Molly, who was watching him with motherly concern, he nodded with a small smile that almost – but not quite – reached his sad eyes. She squeezed his hand again as his eyes moved to the tray on the desk. When he spoke his eyes were a little unfocussed, as if he was seeing something else.

"I'll eat, Molly, I promise," he said softly. "But…" he turned to look at her once more. "I can't come down yet. I… I'm not ready to face everyone."

She leant across and kissed his cheek lightly. "Take your time, my dear, whenever you're ready."

He nodded gratefully as she stood and walked out of the room, glancing once over her shoulder at his forlorn form sat on the edge of his bed. He watched her leave and stood to close the door but when it clicked closed he stared at it for some time, eventually turning away without making a move to lock it. His gaze returned to the photos on the bed, this time the one of them as boys. He walked slowly over and picked it up, noticing for the first time that while his younger self was staring at the apparently oblivious teenage Sirius, the other boy did in fact continually sneak glances out of the corner of his eye at his friend. Each time he did so a truly happy smile tugged at the corners of photo-Sirius' mouth.

Sitting on the bed Remus let the tears start to fall again, but this time they felt very different, and he knew that something inside him had changed. He was able to look at the future without dread, knowing that in time he would be able to carry on what Sirius had started.

For now, though, it was enough to be with Sirius in the only way left available to him, his memories.