Truth may seem but cannot be
@wolfstarmicrofic Mars 12 - Wrap
Remus usually spends the day after a full moon wrapped in a blanket, with a huge steaming cup of hot chocolate and a book. It’s the only luxury he treats himself to these days, as he otherwise spends most of his time trying to find a job that won’t kick him out after a month or two, when they inevitably realize what he is.
The owl finds him just like that on a sunny morning in early august, knocking incessantly at the window until he reluctantly unwraps himself from the blanket and goes to let it in. The red wax seal is familiar, even though it’s been 16 years since he last saw it. He smiles fondly and feels his throat tighten as he opens the letter and reads:
I hope you have given our previous conversation earnest consideration. Trust that your concerns have been thoroughly considered and discussed among the faculty and that we all would welcome you here with open arms. As I mentioned, Severus has agreed to brew the Wolfsbane potion for you every month to ease the transformations, and has also graciously offered to take care of your classes during your absences.
There is no one I’d rather see at the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher come September.
Send your answer with the owl, her name is Cwtch and she loves beak scratches.
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
P.S Minerva wanted me to emphasize that teachers are not to encourage the student’s pranks and mischief – however impressive their spellwork might be. On the bright side, you will find that you are now permitted to walk around the castle freely at night at last. You’ll be proud to hear that young Harry has… taken up his fathers mantle in that particular hobby.
A tear lands on the parchment and blots the ink. Harry. He hasn’t seen Harry in almost twelve years. When he last saw him he was zooming around on a toy broomstick that was given to him by the man who had sworn to protect him if anything ever happened to his parents. Instead that man had made sure his parents were dead, and little Harry was sent to live with Lily’s awful sister and her husband. Remus had met them once, the experience had been anything but pleasant. Though they had agreed to take Harry on… Lily always said that her sister cared for her, deep down. But the one who should've cared for was his godfather. If things were different. If he hadn’t been the one who betrayed them.
Twelve years. Twelve long years to grieve, rage and question. In the beginning Remus had wanted to visit him in Azkaban. To get answers. To scream and curse at him. To hold him tight and pretend that none of it was real. He was told it wasn’t possible. Only spouses were allowed visitation. He might’ve been able to persuade Dumbledore to get him in anyway, but he never did. Perhaps that was cowardly of him, but by the time he could actually function enough to interact with the world again it felt like the time for questions had passed, and he just wanted to move on and build a new life for himself.
Dumbledore had contacted him a couple of days ago, asking him if he was interested in teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year, since the previous teacher had ended up at St. Mungus due to severe memory loss. He had told Dumbledore he needed time to consider the offer, but in truth he’d made up his mind as soon as he was asked the question. Of course he would come back to Hogwarts. He had already started to make lesson plans and refreshed a few spells that would come in handy.
Wiping his tears Remus scribbles down his answer on the backside of the letter, then he gives Cwtch some well earned beak scratches before he sends her away. He wraps himself up in the blanket again, and while he finishes the hot chocolate he tries to figure out how he would go about acquiring a hinkypunk for the students to observe…
It’s early evening when he apparates into Diagon Alley. There’s one more moon before school starts and he’s running low on blood-replenishing potion. It’s not always needed, but when it is… He’s learnt the hard way that some things are always best to have on hand, just in case. Like chocolate. What will it be like, he wonders, to not have to deal with the wolf taking over during the moon? He’s heard of Wolfsbane of course, it made headlines when it was introduced, but he never thought he would be able to benefit from it himself. It’s too complicated for him to brew safely himself, and far too expensive to purchase. Imagine – being able to keep his sane mind, not being a danger to anyone, waking up without bruises, cuts and bitemarks… Almost too good to be true. No more dreading the full moons.
There had been a time when he didn’t dread the full moons, at least not as much. When his friends had joined him on reckless nights in the Forbidden Forest, the wolf happy and free. Prongs, Wormtail… Padfoot.
Remus stops in his tracks as a sudden movement on the wall outside a shop selling used cauldrons catches his attention. He blinks, banishing the memories that must’ve played a prank on his eyes.
But no. He’s still there, staring right at him, just as he remembers him from twelve years ago. The same picture that haunted him from every newspaper during the days after Lily and James’ murders.
Without thinking he rips the picture from the wall and takes a closer look. Not at the picture, he’s way too intimately familiar with that face as it is, but at what’s written underneath. It has an official Ministry seal and is dated a few days back, and as he reads Remus feels chills running down his back.
Sirius Black, notorious for the coldblooded murder of twelve muggles in 1981, has escaped Azkaban. All sightings should be directly reported to Ministry officials. Keep your doors locked and wands close. Do not approach this man. How he escaped is not yet known. The dementors are searching for him. Do not approach those either.
Escaping Azkaban is said to be impossible. It has never been done before. Of course Sirius bloody Black would manage it. With shaking hands Remus folds the poster and puts it in his pocket. He thinks of Harry. Wonders if he knows. If he’s scared. Should he be scared? Surely Sirius wouldn’t want anything to do with him. And even if he did, he’s not sure fear is the right word to describe what he’s feeling. He’s angry. Furious. But also… deep down, a part of him he’s tried to ignore for twelve years, there’s doubt. It’s an awful feeling – James, Lily and Peter all died by his hand and Remus’ stupid teenage crush still makes him doubt the truth.
Did Dumbledore know? When he asked him to come to Hogwarts this year, did he know?. He must have. Perhaps it was the reason. Did that mean he trusted him to make the right decision if faced with Black? Or did it mean he wanted to keep an extra eye on him, in case he turned out to be a secret accomplice? He should’ve told him. Remus, of all people, deserved to know about Black escaping Azkaban. Perhaps Dumbledore thought he already knew.
Remus slowly makes his way to the Leaky Cauldron, his hip is hurting from the transformation. He gets a bottle of Firewhisky and tries not to listen in on the conversations around him, but everyone seems to be talking about it. Sirius Black. Escaped from Azkaban. He grabs a discarded Daily Prophet before he apparates back home.
That night, the nightmares are back. The ones that haunted him, awake and asleep, during the months after Lily and James died. Sirius, standing over their corpses laughing. Sirius blowing up the muggles. Sirius murdering Peter, brave Peter who did what Remus could not. If things had been different, if he hadn’t been away on a mission, Peter wouldn’t have had to die alone. Remus would’ve been there too. And Sirius… Sirius would’ve killed him.
Because Sirius Black chose to serve He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
The nightmares continue through the night, Remus waking up trembling again and again, trying to keep his breathing even. But as the first rays of sunlight peek through the curtains, his dreams shift. There’s Sirius teaching Peter to play gobstones. Sirius and James hugging after a Quidditch match. Sirius crying as Lily handed Harry over for him to hold for the very first time. Sirius kissing him in a stolen moment neither of them dared to speak of again.
A great black dog appears at his rundown cottage, and in this dream Sirius is innocent. In this dream he gets to embrace him, tell him all the things he never did, and he’s finally not alone anymore.
What wouldn’t he give for that to be true?
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