It wasn't usual for Remus Lupin to have peaceful nights. So often, his dreams were plagued by blood, tears, and so much regret. Regret and, since he had learned of Sirius Black's innocence, hurt. Long ago, could it really only have been a year?, Remus had told Sirius that he forgave him everything. Forgave him for suspecting that Remus would ever betray him. Of course, what else would he do? Remus was a true friend; he knew how much Sirius needed someone to believe in him, someone to be the same, when everyone else was dead or worse. And, at the time, Remus thought it was only fair. He, after all, had accepted it when the news broke and Sirius was sent to that hellhole. He accepted it as it broke his heart and drove him out of England for three years. So why not forgive Sirius for believing it of him, twelve years ago when all was distrust and fear? Because it was different. Remus had actions to look at, to mourn, when he was confronted with the possibility that one of his friends, no, his best friend, had betrayed two others and killed 13 innocents. Sirius only had an assumption, a prejudice, and that had led to two wonderful people being slaughtered. And more than that. Of everything in his entire life, the one thing that drove Remus Lupin on from the age of eleven was the knowledge that, no matter what, he had Sirius Black to believe in him. And now, even with Sirius free from Azkaban and the truth out in the open, that moment of doubt in Sirius's mind caused Remus more pain than any transformation could. And all the more when he opened his door that summer to find Sirius's eyes staring at him, like the last 13 years hadn't happened.

"Moony!" Sirius greeted, obviously worn and breathless from the walk from the borders of the anti-apparation wards and from whatever else he had been suffering through since returning to England. He had been running nonstop before and since leaving Hogwarts after the Third Task. Sirius would normally have been ecstatic to see his friend, to even be under a solid roof, if it weren't for the lingering image of an echo Lily speaking to Harry, of a wisp of James speaking at all.

"Are you mad?" Remus barked, pulling Sirius into his house, or cottage rather, as it was all a werewolf could afford. "Walking around in that state? What if someone saw you?"

Sirius laughed, amused at how so little changed, at how so much changed with it. Remus had always been a bit worrisome. "I only transformed at your doorstep, Remus. Are you a werewolf or a mother hen?"

"Well, it's nice to see you too, now what's happened?" asked Remus, choosing to ignore the jibe.

"I'd just as soon wait until the others get here, cut down on the explanation," Sirius answered, accepting the glass of pumpkin juice that Remus had offered.

"What others?"

"The old crew, Dumbledore's reinstating the Order of the Phoenix, Remus. Oh, I suppose I'll tell you first, then you can explain it to the rest when they come in the morning. Who knows if they're still wary of me? Well, the short of it is that Voldemort has returned, he tried to kill Harry and failed because of this strange connection with their wands, one boy died but Harry made it back safe with the aid of the echoes of James and Lily, but Fudge is being…grrr...and he won't believe Harry OR Dumbledore because he let those damned Dementors give the kiss to young Barty Crouch and to top it all off it sounds like Fudge is going to try to get Dumbledore out of Hogwarts." And Sirius finished with a grand exhale.

"So, all in all, just another excuse for you to throw a party at my house?" asked Remus, though both men knew that he was taking this news seriously.

"Sounds about right," Sirius smiled, having missed his old friend. They had exchanged a few words since his escape in Harry's third year, and seen each other briefly in India when Remus had been contacted to help with a dangerous werebear. These fleeting stolen moments had only made Sirius long for the old days even more, never imagining that his friend did not share the same opinion. Remus, no matter how ashamed he was for feeling it and no matter how much he berated himself for even thinking it, had at times wished that he had never met Sirius Black. At least then none of this would matter to him. He would never have met James Potter or Peter Pettigrew, never would have inspired their plan to come Animagous, and, maybe, he would never had lasted to graduation. Yes, Remus thought about these failed realities often, and when he realized that, without his friends, he would have died before he turned seventeen, he sometimes resented them even more.

"Well, you look exhausted. The spare room is right down that hall, kitchen on the left, and the bathroom is at the end. Goodnight, Sirius." Before he could be called back, Remus retreated to his room and wished, for once, that there was a full moon outside his window. He felt like he could use some physical pain at that moment, anything to take his mind off the man a few doors down. He wasn't sure why this was so painful. In India, all he had felt was worry for an old friend, none of this regret and resentment and something else underneath. Maybe that's what it was, hatred. Remus so rarely hated anyone, and the thought that he might feel this way about Sirius Black was making him ill. It wasn't his fault! He was just trying to protect James, just like he would have protected me. But somehow, Remus couldn't believe that. The equality of Sirius's loyalties when it came to him and James. If the situation had been reversed, and Remus was the one in hiding, Sirius would never have suspected James Potter. Wouldn't have doubted him for a second. Maybe that's all this is. Sirius is my best friend, but James is his and that's the way it is. Was.

After trying to sleep, then trying to read, then trying to think, Remus gave up and changed into some Muggle clothing, simple khakis and a blue button-down shirt, and resolved himself to walk down to the closest pub and drink until he'd exhausted his Muggle currency. It didn't occur to him that Sirius was still awake, sitting in the living room, leafing through the latest edition of Transfiguration Today.

"What are you wearing?" Sirius laughed, eyebrows arched and a smile that almost reached his eyes. Remus so nearly wished that he had had that smile around for the past few years, but then remembered why he was intent upon swimming to the bottom of a bottle of whiskey.

"I'm going out for a while," he answered curtly, forgetting that he didn't want Sirius to ask him what was wrong because that would mean they'd finally have to sit down and ask the questions they had been avoiding all year. But Sirius didn't ask, merely bade him a good night. Remus kicked a few stones on his path into town. The Old Dungeon Ghyll was a quiet pub, the only kind Remus would ever enter. The view of the waterfall didn't hurt either, but Remus was mainly looking for a place where they didn't ask questions, didn't even look at you, and the smell of smoke wasn't too strong for his lupine senses. So Remus was surprised when, halfway through a bottle of the cheapest, strongest whiskey this part of Britain offered, the distance between his lips and the glass was interrupted by a hand over the rim and a questioned muted into mere tones by the toxin in Lupin's blood.

"What?" he asked, still too mesmerized by the golden color of his drink and its similarities to the eyes of a girl he had once known to look up.

"I asked you what you think you're doing?" Sirius asked, sitting in the chair opposite Remus's. He didn't look too angry, maybe just curious. Or disappointed. Who is he to be disappointed with me?

"I'm just having a drink," Remus growled, angered by the gall this man had to have expectations, or concerns, or anything at all. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Looking after a friend," Sirius answered sternly, his infamous anger beginning to show. Remus was hoping for it. Hoping for an all out brawl, or even just one punch as long as they didn't have to bleeding talk about it. Talking only led to things that Remus didn't want to hear, admit, or feel.

"So am I," Remus answered, wondering if it was a lie or not. "You should be home. I know we're in the middle of nowhere, but you shouldn't risk being seen." It was amazing, the level of sobriety in his voice.

"What's wrong?"

Damn.

"Remus? Are you going to tell me why you're trying to drink yourself into a stupor or am I going to have to beat it out of you?"

"What makes you think I'm doing that? This could be my first drink for all you know." Remus did sound quite clear-headed. He nearly always did.

"I've been watching you drain that glass for the past half-hour," Sirius smirked, perhaps proud that he had remained unnoticed, a tough feat when in the company of a werewolf.

"Why?"

"To see if I could."

"Well bully for you. Now the real reason."

"I want to know what's wrong?"

"The rise of Voldemort, the death of a student and the possibility that only the Order will know of the war not enough of a reason for you?" Remus asked, frightfully grateful for all those excuses.

"That's enough for any man, but not you," Sirius answered.

"Why? Because I'm not a man?" Remus knew what Sirius had meant, but he wanted this to be hard for him, just for a little while.

"You know that's not what I meant. Just that we've faced these things before and, in the past, your first reaction was never getting pissed. At least alone."

"Well, as you said, that was the past. I'm sure you know from experience that the past thirteen years could change any man, even me."

"Not this much, Moony. Not this much. What say we go back to your house," Sirius suggested, standing up and offering Remus his hand. Remus ignored it and left the bar on his own, Sirius following behind. They didn't speak the entire walk back, something for which Remus was not grateful. Now that he knew what was to come, he'd much rather get it over with and go to sleep. Especially with all they had to do come morning. Instead, it was a good twenty minutes after they settled into their seats in the living room that Sirius broke the silence.

"What is it that you're afraid to ask?"

Remus was shocked. He had thought it would be so obvious, the need to know why. "What do you think?" he asked, honestly curious to know the answer. As if it held something greater than the wide world.

"I don't really know. Maybe what it was like, in there? Or what I was thinking when I went after Peter? I wonder myself sometimes. But I can see by your face that I'm wrong. So why don't you just ask me?"

"Why?"

"Because I know that something's-"

"No, why? That's my question. Why did you think that it was me?" There. It's finally out. God, please don't answer.

"Because there was strong proof that it was one of us, and who would think that Peter would have the strength to come face to face with Voldemort."

Remus scoffed. This was no answer, this was an excuse. "Padfoot, I thought we were being honest." The use of that nickname, it always brought things to a different level. It made James alive, and Peter a friend and Voldemort something so inconceivable and anything other than brash youth an impossibility. It nearly made Sirius cry.

"Moony, I'm so sorry," Sirius croaked, his voice straining over the lump in his throat. "We just hadn't seen as much of you after graduation. We didn't have those full moons anymore. Only a few letters and visits every once in a while. We didn't think you'd ever hurt us, but you could have changed."

"We?" Remus asked, knowing this was what it all came too, not just some hurt pride but the level of doubt amongst friends. "Does 'we' include Dumbledore? Lily? James? You all thought I had defected?"

"No! No, James would never think that of you!" Sirius yelled, the certainty in his voice smacking of denial. He needs James to be perfect.

"So it was just you?" Remus asked, even though he knew it couldn't have been.

"Does it really matter?" Sirius asked, even though he knew it did.

"Yes! You know it matters! How many people? How many of my friends thought me capable of such a thing? It does matter!"

Sighing in his resolve to tell Remus the truth, Sirius gave in. "Dumbledore knew it was someone close. He never accused you, or anyone else for that matter. Lily told James that it might have been me, but he wouldn't hear of it. He suggested Peter but the whole idea that one of us could have sided with the Dark Lord so tore him apart that he didn't want to think about it anymore and left the decision with me."

"And you thought of me? I don't blame you. Werewolves are untrustworthy beasts aren't they? Filthy, dark, dangerous things. Of course you'd think of me," Remus whispered, hoping that if he were on the other side of the coin, he wouldn't have thought such things at all.

"Remus, I know you are none of those things!"

"But you didn't! You didn't know! Not then!" Remus shouted.

"What about you?" Sirius snarled, finally growing weary of this pity fest. "When they sent me to Azkaban, did you think those things of me? We're both guilty of bad judgement here, Remus."

"But there were bodies, Sirius! There was something to look at. You didn't have that luxury when you made your judgement on my character. God knows what you based that on. And, at first, I didn't believe those things they said about you. The man I knew would never hurt Lily and James. But I thought that the man I knew, my best friend, would have thought more of me and would have told me when the change was made."

"I'm just saying that we both made mistakes," Sirius answered, the meekness in his voice showing that he knew his had been the greater mistake. But that didn't stop Remus from pointing it out.

"At least my mistake didn't get anyone killed." That did it. Before Remus could even blink, he found himself with what felt like a broken jaw and what he knew to be a bloody nose. He didn't even try to fight back, it felt so good. Just like the old days, only he had never been in the fight, merely watching Sirius and James go at it over some girl or a prank gone wrong. Sirius and James. Always those two. It's a miracle Remus found a place at all within that love. Thinking of this, Remus didn't even notice that the fight was over until Sirius handed him a towel to stop the blood. I really should apologize. I'm sure he's felt that guilt enough for two lifetimes without me forcing it on him again. "I shouldn't have said that," Remus mumbled, deciding that he wasn't ready to apologize to Sirius for anything yet.

"Don't bother, we both know it's true," was Sirius's answer. He had barely broken a sweat in the brief altercation, but he was still straining to catch his breath, maybe out of shock that he was capable of hurting his friend. But then, he'd already hurt him once before. He just hadn't realized how much. "Remus, I know that I've taken something from you, apart from Lily and James and twelve years of me and a million other could-have-been's. And for that I am truly sorry. I don't know what else I can say."

"You don't have to say anything," Remus answered, knowing that he was finally being honest with his friend. "I thought I needed you to answer me something, but I suppose it doesn't matter what you say. Things are what they are, we are what we are, and that's how it is. No use breaking our hearts, or jaws, over trivial information anyway, is there?"

"There is. You need to know. And, whatever it is, I need to tell you. And then we can go to bed and put it all in the past, where it belongs," Sirius answered, again taking his seat across from Remus. "Now ask!"

"But now I'm not sure I do want to know!" Remus laughed nervously.

"Remus, just ask me. You'd be surprised at how little you can surprise me."

"Fine. If things had been different, and Voldemort was coming after me instead, and we knew that someone close by was working for him, would you have…could you have ever imagined that James was the one?" What a stupid question! What does it prove? I might has well have asked why he liked James better! Honestly, how old am I again?

"Now, I was not expecting that," Sirius smiled, and this time it definitely did not reach his eyes. "Yes."

"You can't be serious!" Remus shouted, amused that he was just as insistent on protecting James's memory as Sirius had been earlier.

"Of course I'm Sirius," Sirius joked, deciding that no, it never got too old.

"Padfoot-" Remus began, impatient with that old Marauder grin.

"Moony, I am serious. In hindsight, of course I don't doubt James's loyalties, just like I don't doubt yours. But back then, anything could have been possible. And I'll save you from wondering. If things had been different, and you had been killed and James had been the traitor, I would have hunted him down and killed him without hesitation. And I mean that. Now I insist we go to bed before things get blubbery in here." Of course it was too late for that, but when Remus finally did fall asleep mere hours before dawn, it was the most peaceful night he had ever had.