if anyone want to read wolfstar but make them call me by your name, here's the link.
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if anyone want to read wolfstar but make them call me by your name, here's the link.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Sirius Black had always been loud.
He was that one boy in class that would make stupid and crude jokes, who would create chaos and annoy the teachers to their wits end, who everyone would call rambunctious, obnoxious, boisterous and many more things along the line.
Everywhere Sirius went, trouble and chaos followed.
He wouldn't shut up anywhere. He would chatter in the library, he'd run around in the hall during supper time, he would laugh loud in the classes.
The first time Sirius Black was robbed of his voice was when he found James Potter's dead, unmoving body and accused of murdering his better half.
He never imagined losing his wild, rowdy nature, but then again, he'd never imagined James Potter dead.
Sirius Black was never loud again.
One day, after the disastrous night of October in 1981, Remus wakes up with a heavy head. It’s the first time in weeks that his memory and his mind fail him.
“Sirius?” he groans from the couch, covering his face.
“Sirius?” he calls out again when there is no answer.
He huffs out. Sirius is pranking him again, messing with him, poking fun at him.
Sirius knows Remus hates waking up alone. Sometimes, on days when the sun is bright out and the birds are chirping and the smell of coffee and baked goods are wafting in the air, Sirius likes to mess with Remus.
He lets Remus believe he has left, gone out without waking him up and murmuring to him about his whereabouts, letting him feel lost for a mean moment and then, he jumps out of nowhere filling his chest with warmth.
“Sirius, I know you are there.” Remus whines.
He can smell Sirius in their home, Sirius’ leather jacket somewhere, Sirius’ faint breathing breezing his ears and Sirius’ calming scent filling his chest.
“Sirius?” Remus huffs out again when the other boy doesn’t come out giggling.
And then, he freezes.
The cold air from the window behind the couch hits his neck. The goosebumps rise. The feeling of something rotten fills his chest. The memories of the night crashes into his mind like an avalanche.
His heart caves.
Oh.
Oh.
He refuses to move. Refuses to let the moment die where he felt Sirius so close to him, he was sure he could touch him, refuses to acknowledge the truth.
A crow screeches somewhere and thunder rumbles. The sound of rain hitting the pavement fills the eerily silent apartment. The windows rattle from the thunder. The rain fills his throat, his lungs, his chest, his body.
“Sirius.” He chokes out.
At first glance, everyone would agree that James Potter and Sirius Black where the most wanted amongst their peers.
And though it may be significantly true, the marauders knew that among them all, it was actually Remus who was the Casanova of the Gryffindor Tower. Or maybe all of Hogwarts.
Remus gets the most shy girls in groups trying to offer him chocolates which he gladly takes because one can never have too much chocolate even though it makes him hyperactive.
Remus gets the most offer for special tutoring in the backseats of the library that is infamous for doing anything but academics.
Remus, that even has some of the Slytherins accepting him as their own because he is kind to them and lets them off the hook if he finds them swooping near the kitchens.
In fact, he has a specific couple from Slytherin (Barty and Evan) who constantly try to rope him in into their make out sessions every time he catches them.
Remus is the one Regulus admits shyly having a crush on and opens to him about his life at home after Sirius leaves. Remus is the one Regulus runs to after a particularly bad night at Grimmauld place, and Remus takes care of him without questions.
Remus is the one that has James and Sirius, the handsome faces of Hogwarts, wrapped around his fingers doing everything at his bidding.
The best part of it all, he knows about his charms and how he has them wrapped all over him and he enjoys every second of it.
“Have you lost your mind?” Lily seethes. “Are you even listening to yourself? Remus is not—”
“—Dumbledore said so,” Sirius bites back. “You think I want to believe that Remus is the spy.”
“To hell with Dumbledore.”Lily barks and whips around. “James, tell him. Remus is not the spy.”
James sits on the loveseat, alone, his head hanging low, hands clasped tightly and hair messier than it has ever been by the amount of time he has run his hands through it.
“I mean, he hasn’t been telling us where he goes on missions. He is gone for weeks on end, even now, and no one knows where he is.” Peter squeaks from the corner.
“HE COULD BE DEAD FOR ALL YOU KNOW.” Lily yells. The room flinches.
“He is not dead.” Sirius whispers, thumbing the ring on his ring finger. Lily’s eyes snap to it.
“Then he is not the spy.” She says with finality.
A few days later, Remus returns back, battered and barely alive. Dark magic emanates off him like thick heat waves on a humid summer day. He refuses to speak , refuses to tell where he went, what he saw, what he did.
He is there with them, but he is not.
“He should be here.” Lily says through clenched teeth on the night they are deciding the secret keeper. “He is not a spy.” Lily stays adamant. “You cannot do this without him. He deserves to be here as much.”
“He can be here if you want Harry dead.” Sirius says, no trace of familiar warmth he has for Remus in his voice. He doesn’t wear the ring on his finger anymore but he also can’t seem to get rid of it. It hangs around his neck like a noose, like he is mourning something that isn’t dead yet.
“Lily,” James starts, his voice hoarse. “It is him.” He whispers in defeat. Lily snaps her glare towards him.
“What’s your proof?” Lily questions. “What evidence do any of you have? Sirius could be the spy for all you know—”
“— I would die before—”
“—He is a Black, afterall—”
“—I am nothing like my fam—”
“—And Remus is nothing like you all have made him to be.” Lily heaves deep breaths. “Peter could be the spy.”
“Me?” Peter squeaks. “I–I–I would– I am—”
“Oh, come on, Peter could never be the spy.” Sirius scoffs. Peter bites his lips and looks away.
“So you are the spy.” Lily levels her glare at Sirius.
“Lily,” James cajoles. “Think about Harry. We can’t— We need to protect him. I know you don’t want to believe that Remus is the spy and neither do I. Or any of us but right now all the evidence points at it and this is war, Love.”
Lily’s resolve weakens. James pulls her in and wraps a warm arm around her. “Our priority has to be Harry.”
“Do you think Remus is the spy too?” She whispers.
James grimaces. “All the evidence—”
“That’s not my question, Potter.” James looks the saddest Lily has ever seen him, despite having lost his parents, half the order, and the people he looked up to.
James looks devastated as he whispers, “Yes, I think he is the spy.”
Lily sucks in a sharp breath. She looks around the room.
At Sirius, who clutches at the ring hanging from the chain, like it is keeping him tethered, like the fluttering heartbeat and the warmth that denotes that Remus is alive is keeping him going.
At Peter, who hides behind his work at the ministry instead of actively fighting the war, who has been more squeamish these few months than she has ever seen him.
At James, who looks defeated but determined to keep her and Harry safe.
“I don’t think—” She breathes deeply, collecting herself. “I know Remus is not the spy.” She says standing up. “And I hope he never finds out his closest friends ever thought so. I hope all of you know,” She levels her look at— “Sirius, that he would die too before betraying any of us.”
Peter becomes the secret keeper as a great ploy to keep Voldemort away.
A perfect bluff, Sirius calls it.
Brilliant, James agrees.
Quiet Peter stays.
Remus is not the spy, Lily adds.
When the door rattles with a knock on 31st October 1981, James barely has the time to think before he loses his breath. James, so full of life, always the light in the darkness, the loudest laugh in the room, gone without a noise. Harry, Lily. Lily was right. Peter. Sirius. Remus. Remus. James dares to hope Remus never finds out they thought he was a spy.
Lily was right as she stood in front of Harry facing death.
Lily was right, Sirius chants in his cell in Azkaban every time he thinks of that night.
Lily was right, Peter knows as he gives the much needed information to Voldemort.
Remus was not the spy.
“They thought you were the spy,” Dumbledore tells Remus.
breaksmy heart but at least I love the moonflower, Lily would never think bad of Remus🥹🥺😭💔
I truly believe Lily is too brilliant and smart to just believe anything they say about her friends, specifically during the war.
TOTALLY!! She‘s too smart for the confusions and intrigues of war.
And it also makes sense that she won‘t believe Remus is the spy because she‘s muggleborn. Sirius and James aren‘t bigoted, they don‘t think Werewolfes are bad/ Remus is bad. BUT they did grow up surrounded by these beliefs. And that effects you, no matter what. I think that bigoted shit is very very deeply anchored in our minds when they‘re cmon in society. Like, we sometimes we fall back into racist thinking patterns even if we‘re able to call ourselfes out and work on it. We can be anti-racist but still will make mistaked, think racist from time to time becaue racism is anchored in our society (at least where I live). Same goes for fatphobia for example.
What I want to say is that Lily never heard of the social standings, the bigotry against werewolfes before she went to Hogwarts, she was eleven years old, thrown into a weid as fuck world and then there were even weirder discriminations in this magic society. Her best friend is one of this „dangerous dark creatures“, she herself and her best friend suffered from discrimination against muggleborns. I think she‘s immune against this thought of „Remus is a werwolf, he could be the spy“.
And I‘m not saying that Sirius or James would think that conciously, that they would doubt Remus‘ loyalty because of his lycantrophy. But it comed to them easier to suspect remus than to Lily. Because no matter how good they are, they grew up surrounded by a discriminating society.
I hope any of this makes sense lmao, my english isn‘t very good and my thoughts about this aren‘t very organised yet:)
that's a whole new perspective,, wow i hadn't even thought about it like that. i was just exploring Lily’s character on a very visible level — her ferocity in which she protects her loved ones (Harry) and I just correlated that with Remus who is the closest friend to her among the Marauder’s.
AND YES!!! your english makes complete sense,, dw even my first language isn't english.
“Have you lost your mind?” Lily seethes. “Are you even listening to yourself? Remus is not—”
“—Dumbledore said so,” Sirius bites back. “You think I want to believe that Remus is the spy.”
“To hell with Dumbledore.”Lily barks and whips around. “James, tell him. Remus is not the spy.”
James sits on the loveseat, alone, his head hanging low, hands clasped tightly and hair messier than it has ever been by the amount of time he has run his hands through it.
“I mean, he hasn’t been telling us where he goes on missions. He is gone for weeks on end, even now, and no one knows where he is.” Peter squeaks from the corner.
“HE COULD BE DEAD FOR ALL YOU KNOW.” Lily yells. The room flinches.
“He is not dead.” Sirius whispers, thumbing the ring on his ring finger. Lily’s eyes snap to it.
“Then he is not the spy.” She says with finality.
A few days later, Remus returns back, battered and barely alive. Dark magic emanates off him like thick heat waves on a humid summer day. He refuses to speak , refuses to tell where he went, what he saw, what he did.
He is there with them, but he is not.
“He should be here.” Lily says through clenched teeth on the night they are deciding the secret keeper. “He is not a spy.” Lily stays adamant. “You cannot do this without him. He deserves to be here as much.”
“He can be here if you want Harry dead.” Sirius says, no trace of familiar warmth he has for Remus in his voice. He doesn’t wear the ring on his finger anymore but he also can’t seem to get rid of it. It hangs around his neck like a noose, like he is mourning something that isn’t dead yet.
“Lily,” James starts, his voice hoarse. “It is him.” He whispers in defeat. Lily snaps her glare towards him.
“What’s your proof?” Lily questions. “What evidence do any of you have? Sirius could be the spy for all you know—”
“— I would die before—”
“—He is a Black, afterall—”
“—I am nothing like my fam—”
“—And Remus is nothing like you all have made him to be.” Lily heaves deep breaths. “Peter could be the spy.”
“Me?” Peter squeaks. “I–I–I would– I am—”
“Oh, come on, Peter could never be the spy.” Sirius scoffs. Peter bites his lips and looks away.
“So you are the spy.” Lily levels her glare at Sirius.
“Lily,” James cajoles. “Think about Harry. We can’t— We need to protect him. I know you don’t want to believe that Remus is the spy and neither do I. Or any of us but right now all the evidence points at it and this is war, Love.”
Lily’s resolve weakens. James pulls her in and wraps a warm arm around her. “Our priority has to be Harry.”
“Do you think Remus is the spy too?” She whispers.
James grimaces. “All the evidence—”
“That’s not my question, Potter.” James looks the saddest Lily has ever seen him, despite having lost his parents, half the order, and the people he looked up to.
James looks devastated as he whispers, “Yes, I think he is the spy.”
Lily sucks in a sharp breath. She looks around the room.
At Sirius, who clutches at the ring hanging from the chain, like it is keeping him tethered, like the fluttering heartbeat and the warmth that denotes that Remus is alive is keeping him going.
At Peter, who hides behind his work at the ministry instead of actively fighting the war, who has been more squeamish these few months than she has ever seen him.
At James, who looks defeated but determined to keep her and Harry safe.
“I don’t think—” She breathes deeply, collecting herself. “I know Remus is not the spy.” She says standing up. “And I hope he never finds out his closest friends ever thought so. I hope all of you know,” She levels her look at— “Sirius, that he would die too before betraying any of us.”
Peter becomes the secret keeper as a great ploy to keep Voldemort away.
A perfect bluff, Sirius calls it.
Brilliant, James agrees.
Quiet Peter stays.
Remus is not the spy, Lily adds.
When the door rattles with a knock on 31st October 1981, James barely has the time to think before he loses his breath. James, so full of life, always the light in the darkness, the loudest laugh in the room, gone without a noise. Harry, Lily. Lily was right. Peter. Sirius. Remus. Remus. James dares to hope Remus never finds out they thought he was a spy.
Lily was right as she stood in front of Harry facing death.
Lily was right, Sirius chants in his cell in Azkaban every time he thinks of that night.
Lily was right, Peter knows as he gives the much needed information to Voldemort.
Remus was not the spy.
“They thought you were the spy,” Dumbledore tells Remus.
breaksmy heart but at least I love the moonflower, Lily would never think bad of Remus🥹🥺😭💔
I truly believe Lily is too brilliant and smart to just believe anything they say about her friends, specifically during the war.
“Have you lost your mind?” Lily seethes. “Are you even listening to yourself? Remus is not—”
“—Dumbledore said so,” Sirius bites back. “You think I want to believe that Remus is the spy.”
“To hell with Dumbledore.”Lily barks and whips around. “James, tell him. Remus is not the spy.”
James sits on the loveseat, alone, his head hanging low, hands clasped tightly and hair messier than it has ever been by the amount of time he has run his hands through it.
“I mean, he hasn’t been telling us where he goes on missions. He is gone for weeks on end, even now, and no one knows where he is.” Peter squeaks from the corner.
“HE COULD BE DEAD FOR ALL YOU KNOW.” Lily yells. The room flinches.
“He is not dead.” Sirius whispers, thumbing the ring on his ring finger. Lily’s eyes snap to it.
“Then he is not the spy.” She says with finality.
A few days later, Remus returns back, battered and barely alive. Dark magic emanates off him like thick heat waves on a humid summer day. He refuses to speak , refuses to tell where he went, what he saw, what he did.
He is there with them, but he is not.
“He should be here.” Lily says through clenched teeth on the night they are deciding the secret keeper. “He is not a spy.” Lily stays adamant. “You cannot do this without him. He deserves to be here as much.”
“He can be here if you want Harry dead.” Sirius says, no trace of familiar warmth he has for Remus in his voice. He doesn’t wear the ring on his finger anymore but he also can’t seem to get rid of it. It hangs around his neck like a noose, like he is mourning something that isn’t dead yet.
“Lily,” James starts, his voice hoarse. “It is him.” He whispers in defeat. Lily snaps her glare towards him.
“What’s your proof?” Lily questions. “What evidence do any of you have? Sirius could be the spy for all you know—”
“— I would die before—”
“—He is a Black, afterall—”
“—I am nothing like my fam—”
“—And Remus is nothing like you all have made him to be.” Lily heaves deep breaths. “Peter could be the spy.”
“Me?” Peter squeaks. “I–I–I would– I am—”
“Oh, come on, Peter could never be the spy.” Sirius scoffs. Peter bites his lips and looks away.
“So you are the spy.” Lily levels her glare at Sirius.
“Lily,” James cajoles. “Think about Harry. We can’t— We need to protect him. I know you don’t want to believe that Remus is the spy and neither do I. Or any of us but right now all the evidence points at it and this is war, Love.”
Lily’s resolve weakens. James pulls her in and wraps a warm arm around her. “Our priority has to be Harry.”
“Do you think Remus is the spy too?” She whispers.
James grimaces. “All the evidence—”
“That’s not my question, Potter.” James looks the saddest Lily has ever seen him, despite having lost his parents, half the order, and the people he looked up to.
James looks devastated as he whispers, “Yes, I think he is the spy.”
Lily sucks in a sharp breath. She looks around the room.
At Sirius, who clutches at the ring hanging from the chain, like it is keeping him tethered, like the fluttering heartbeat and the warmth that denotes that Remus is alive is keeping him going.
At Peter, who hides behind his work at the ministry instead of actively fighting the war, who has been more squeamish these few months than she has ever seen him.
At James, who looks defeated but determined to keep her and Harry safe.
“I don’t think—” She breathes deeply, collecting herself. “I know Remus is not the spy.” She says, standing up. “And I hope he never finds out his closest friends ever thought so. I hope all of you know,” She levels her look at— “Sirius, that he too would die before betraying any of us.”
Peter becomes the secret keeper as a great ploy to keep Voldemort away.
A perfect bluff, Sirius calls it.
Brilliant, James agrees.
Quiet Peter stays.
Remus is not the spy, Lily adds.
When the door rattles with a knock on 31st October 1981, James barely has the time to think before he loses his breath. James, so full of life, always the light in the darkness, the loudest laugh in the room, gone without a noise. Harry, Lily. Lily was right. Peter. Sirius. Remus. Remus. James dares to hope Remus never finds out they thought he was a spy.
Lily was right as she stood in front of Harry facing death.
Lily was right, Sirius chants in his cell in Azkaban every time he thinks of that night.
Lily was right, Peter knows as he gives the much needed information to Voldemort.
Remus was not the spy.
“They thought you were the spy,” Dumbledore tells Remus.
“All of them?” Remus begs croakily, shattered.
“Yes.”
The summer of 81 is the last summer that the marauders all spend together.
The summer before the seed of doubt had been laid in that one of them might be the spy for the Dark Lord.
The summer before the animosity had dug its nails between them and tore them apart.
The last summer they all spend together, laughing and loving each other like they did so easily during their Hogwarts days.
No one in the room — James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Lily, Mary, Marlene and little baby Harry — could have even know at the time that this was the last day they would all be together.
It was Harry’s first birthday and the only birthday he’d get to spend with his parents and his uncles and aunts.
The only birthday that Lily and James would be able to celebrate of Harry’s.
It’s the only summer Harry gets with his parents and his uncles and aunts, loved so deeply and cared for so sweetly.
It’s the last time the marauders and the girls can shower Harry with love and feel so full of love by Harry’s little giggles.
It’s the last time Sirius tells Remus he loves him and Remus implores to Sirius he does the same with his voice breathless and eyes brimming with love.
In that moment, Sirius is sure that nothing in the world can drive them away.
The summer of 1981 is the last time they are truly happy together.
When the night falls, the late summer breeze greets them with the news of the McKinnon family’s death.
Marlene McKinnon was dead and the rest of them followed like pieces of dominos.
One after another.
James and Lily never make Peter their secret keeper. Sirius tries to tell them, persuade them, convince them.
"it's a perfect bluff, " he says with conviction, running his fingers through his frazzled hair. “He’ll never see it coming.”
James remains unmoved. Lily stares stonily at the wall.
“Remus is not the spy.” She had yelled, red hair blazing like fire. “He should be here too.”
The silence stretched. Peter stared at the floor, rubbing and twisting his hands.
“It’s either you or no one.” James said, his voice hard. He had never heard James sound like that but the war had turned everyone into the darkest versions of themselves.
Lily nodded jerkily despite the heated argument she and Sirius had had.
Normally, James would apologise to Peter for not considering him, putting him away without a second but tonight, he didn’t.
Ultimately, Sirius becomes their secret-keeper.
James and Lily go into hiding with solemn face and eyes hard with determination to keep Harry safe and an unsaid promise to try to make it alive out of the war.
Peter goes back to his work, rarely meeting him and sweating everytime he does. “I wish I could see them,” Peter whispers one chilly night, sweating profusely. Sirius’ eye twitches but he just hums.
And Remus. Remus goes back to missions he doesn’t tell Sirius about. They sit in silence and look at each other, the love lacking severely between them.
“I love you.” Remus says, a few days before Halloween, before going on another one those missions he refuses to tell Sirius about and Sirius just —
Sirius does nothing, doesn’t acknowledge, doesn't reply. He turns around and goes to their room as the apartment door closes with abject dejection.
He stays in the apartment and stays alert and vigilant and keeps his eyes, ears and every sense desperately active and focused to avoid the gaping hole in his chest.
It happens on Halloween. There’s a soft knock. No one ever knocks. He grabs his wand and opens the door and before he knows it, before any thought can be formed in his mind, about James and Lily and Harry and Peter and —him. . .self, he is on his back.
Sirius doesn’t know when it starts or when it ends. Where he is or where he was taken. If he is even alive or just refusing to die. His throat is raw, his skin is taut and tight, he is bleeding and there are broken bones he can tell and his mind— his mind is shut off.
He meant it when he said it. He’d rather die than sell out Lily and James.
Death comes to him from one of those people he thought was his best friend.
When Peter raises his wand with empty eyes and trembling hands, Sirius wants to ask him if their friendship ever meant something to him. He never does get an answer.
James, Lily, Harry, Regulus, Mary, Marlene, his mind races, remembering faces and names and people, Andromeda, Nymphadora, Ted, Gideon, Fabian —
Remus, his mind supplies painfully.
Oh, Remus.
He never did tell him that he loves him too, did he. Loves him so much, so much, so much so he is the last thought as he takes his last breath.
sometimes i wonder how i ever lived without ao3 and then i remember i didn't, i was fucking depressed before it.
i just realised that James didn't make Remus the godfather too because he also thought that Remus could be the spy amidst the war, and i just want to kms