They try to take Sirius' body, but Remus refuses them. Instead, Remus does as he wants, not caring what anyone says or thinks, maybe for the first time in his life.
I think I might have loved you.
Those words echo through his head every second of the passing days. He burns him, turns Sirius to ash, the color matching his eyes perfectly when he's finished. Remus takes him to a cliff face at the edge of the sea. He waits for four days until a storm brews on the horizon, moving slowly closer. Only when the rain is coming down in sheets over him, robes drenched through, veins and bones cold, wind whipping like harsh, pulling fingers at every part of him, does he upturn the vial and let Sirius fly free into something just as fierce and rageful as he himself had been.
I think I might have loved you.
There is no might for Remus. He knows now.
Harry is new life, a gust of fresh breath. He's the light at the end of the long tunnel of helpless, hopeless days. And Remus has his own life back now, everything falling into place so easily once it all ended, a shocking and marvelous thing.
But he finds himself on quiet days sitting in the Potters' kitchen, staring at lemons on wallpaper, picturing dulled green and silver instead. He hears hissed, breathless whispers rush past his ears on the ghost of sighs, too many to begin to count. He feels fingers gripping at him, around his arms, his throat, almost tender caresses of fingertips that the person the hand was attached would never admit to, no matter how it was pried from him.
At night, Remus dreams of grey eyes and dark hair like silk. They haunt him. He knows they always will, somehow.
And Remus knows he'll never be the same, something, so many things, stolen from him so completely, with so much wretched unfairness in it all, that he'll never fully recover. But that's all right, because he has everything when he sleeps, even if only for a little while. His waking hours can hold everything else.
And while Remus tries to keep moving forward, all over the country, as the news spreads, people raise their glasses in muted surprise and gratefulness, all murmuring the same words, like prayers spoken in the blackness as light bleeds through.
Sirius' back collides with a nearby tree before his legs are giving way beneath him, his body slumping to the ground like all the air's gone out of it. Remus rushes forward, hearing frantic footsteps pounding behind him, but he's surprised he can hear anything over the intense volume of blood echoing through his ears with every frenzied beat of his heart.
He drops to his knees beside the other man, hand coming up to press over the large wound of his neck. Purple tendrils of light seep through his fingers with the wetness of crimson blood turned black in the night, the tint to Sirius' eyes fading until nothing remains but that fathomless grey, a vast wilderness of such beauty and majesty now dulling like a forest set to blaze and then left to die.
Remus can't catch his breath, his lungs no longer working, but he's not sure why. Sirius' head lolls a little to the side where it rests against the rough tree bark, his gaze fixed on Remus but waning, eyelids fluttering and reopening slowly.
"No, you're fine," he snaps at the dark headed man. "Don't look at me like that. You're fine, you fucking arse. James!"
The footsteps he'd heard distantly are beside him now, and Remus looks up to see Lily and James above him, eyes wide, James' hazel irises filled with some sort of internal struggle. Lily drops to the ground next to him, her growing stomach not seeming to hinder her movements now. James doesn't move, still balancing on that thin rope of right and wrong.
"James, please!" begs Remus desperately, feeling Lily's hand coming down to rest on his arm.
James looks down at him, battling with himself for a moment before he nods once and urges Remus to the side as he falls to his knees in the damp earth. He nudges Remus' hand away and sets to work, Remus not daring to breathe. James can do it, Remus knows he can. He's better at healing spells than anyone else in the Order, having been studying to become a Healer before the war had increased and pulled his focus.
Lily shifts through the grass until she's beside him again, her arms wrapping around him like a form of comfort Remus can't currently feel. She murmurs gentle words into his ear that he can't process, watching with fixed eyes as James' wand works, slowly at first, but speeding up, movements becoming almost desperate and frantic. Remus feels something in him break, snapping apart, when the other man stills, his hand and wand dropping to his side heavily.
James stares at Sirius for a long moment, grey eyes gazing back, something in them Remus can't read. Then James is turning to him, his gaze guarded but filled with a deep sympathy Remus refuses to accept.
"No," he grunts out even as James shakes his head.
"I'm sorry, Remus," he says, and he sounds truly apologetic. "I can't – I don't even know what this is. I've never seen it before. There's too much damage. There's nothing I can do."
It's Remus' turn to shake his head almost violently. He pulls away from Lily's hold, anger rushing through him like torrential waves, but he stops when Sirius speaks.
"Fuck off, Potter," he chokes, and his voice is weak, wet sounding, a small gurgle layering over the back half, but Remus can still hear the cheek within it. "Hogwarts' golden boy, a miserable failure like the rest of us. Imagine that."
James meets his eyes again as he pushes himself to his feet, helping Lily up as well. There's a level of melancholy in them that Remus can't look at for too long. James guides Lily a small distance away from them, the couple watching silently as Remus moves forward, his hand coming up to Sirius' neck again, placing pressure over the wound that's still bleeding but tapering quickly.
"You're fine," he says, his own voice nearly as strangled. "You'll be fine. We'll get you to St Mungo's. They'll know what to do."
Sirius' hands lift slowly, the motions sluggish, like his arms are weighed down by heavy rocks. One settles over Remus' at his neck, the other wrapping around the back of his head. He pulls Remus in close, his eyes falling closed as they move together, grey wiped away like the clearing of a storm. Lips find his briefly before they trail to his ear, breath shifting through his hair with the whisper of words.
Remus stiffens when he hears them, not knowing how to react or what to think. But before he can figure it out, there's the smallest of hitched breathing passing beside him, and the hold on him falls slack. And just like that, everything is over.
"You've been using me," manages Remus. It takes a while, but he finally gets the words out.
Sirius snorts, a sound and action that's highly uncharacteristic from him. His head cocks to the side a little.
"Like that hasn't been obvious from the very beginning," he scoffs. "You knew what you were signing yourself over for when you agreed to this, being here."
"Not this!" denies Remus loudly, and some of the vials tremble on their shelves. "And not to this extent. You want to use me like one of those giant inflatable flappers at the sides of roadways, filling me up and waiting for the fucking pop."
"It's called a Tube Man, actually," supplies Sirius nonchalantly.
"How can you possibly know that?"
Sirius shrugs a little, beginning to look bored again. "You'd be surprised how much I know," he says, nearly dismissively.
"You are mad. Corrupted. Evil."
Sirius throws his head back in a loud, rattling laugh at the words. The sound causes Remus' nerves to flare in an unpleasant way. "Evil," he parrots, voice filled with a dark sort of humor, almost mocking as he fixes Remus with piercing eyes again. "There's no such thing, Remus. Pure and evil, good and bad. Black and white. None of it exists. It's all shades of grey in this dirty world we live in. The sooner you accept that, the better off you'll be. Fighting for good and right is a lie. It's a lie all the pleasant parents tell their children as bedtime stories, lies they grow up believing until it all comes crashing down. Wake the fuck up, Remus. Open those eyes you've closed so tightly and bloody well look."
Remus shakes his head a little. "I won't do it," he hisses.
"You will."
"You can't force me to it anymore. Whatever hold you had over me is gone now, you said so yourself."
"Doesn't matter. You'll still do it, because in the end, it'll get what you want." Sirius' eyes are flickering purple in the swirling light around them, and he looks so certain of his words. Remus feels himself slump a little under its weight.
"What makes you think this will end the way you want?" he tosses out, angling for sharp, slicing, wanting to peel the skin away from those yellowed bones he knows are beneath, but emerges as more of a plea than anything else.
Sirius takes a step forward, gaze not leaving Remus as he moves. "Just a feeling," he replies with a nasty sort of smile. "I'm good at feelings. They typically pan out well enough. They did with you."
"I could leave," threatens Remus, but it's weak even to his own ears, his voice shaking a little. Sirius' smile grows as he comes up level with Remus, who presses back against the door. Sirius follows, hot, lithe body molding over his own, and Remus' breath stutters.
"You could," murmurs Sirius, and Remus is surprised at how softly the words emerge, like a caressing whisper, warm breath ghosting his skin, "but you won't."
Remus swallows around his suddenly dry throat. "You can't know that," he argues with more strength and vehemence than he feels. "You can't know any of this."
Sirius' eyes sweep over him, working down to his feet before slowly sliding their way back up, following unseen, already explored and marked pathways created from fingers and teeth and tongue. Then he's stepping back, giving Remus space to move, and he barely restrains a whimper at the sudden loss of that immense heat.
"Then go," he says easily, motioning with one hand to the door behind Remus. "You're free. Do it if you want. If you can. I won't stop you, not now."
And Remus can see the truth shining in his grey eyes still tinged purple from the glow of the vials. He won't stop him, won't put up a fight. Except it doesn't matter, because something inside Remus is doing that for him. There's a clawing within him, nails digging in deeply, slicing open muscles, cutting through sinew, stabbing in until they hit marrow and suck him dry. Remus can't go. He can never leave, and he doesn't understand it, can't even begin to try. He's trapped, a cage of his own making, filled with dark promises dancing in grey eyes, smoke rising from flickering flames, burning away all that Remus had ever thought he was before, leaving something new in its place.
Sirius watches him, head tilted down a little, shadows flaring over his face, across his skin. He looks dangerous, otherworldly, like something that should be feared. He looks like a new life Remus had never once imagined for himself. And he seems to see it, that thing settling in around Remus, inside him, because Sirius is suddenly there again, pressed against him, all hot breath and too-sweet smells that still make little sense to Remus' fogging mind.
Pale, lavender fingers dance over scarred flesh, reclaiming and remarking places already forever corrupted and inherently changed, sliding along with the unrelenting willingness Remus gives now. The wall shakes with their force, the vials rattling and tinkling like the siren call waiting at the edge of the River Lethe, tendrils of oblivion reaching out, tugging Remus down, guiding them both as they descend.
The ground rumbles with the force of their stampeding steps, spells focused on the Death Eaters, mostly, but a few flies in their direction, skittering off the glow of the purple shield surrounding them. Sirius' eyes dart to him, looking mildly accusing, speculative, like he's trying to figure out if and how Remus tipped them off, but they can't focus on that because Voldemort has regained ground. They redouble their efforts.
"Remus!" shouts Lily, suddenly incredibly close. "Remus, what are you doing?"
"Why are you even here, Lily?" he manages to grind out through gritted teeth, trying to retain his focus. "You're pregnant. Go home!" Remus doesn't have to look at her to know her eyes are blazing dangerously.
"Remus John Lupin, have you gone mad?" she demands, sounding breathless.
"Of course he has!" comes another voice far too close for comfort. Leave! Remus' mind shouts at them. You both need to leave. Now. "Look at who he's with!"
"Pleasure as always, Potter," tosses out Sirius snidely from his side, arm slashing with force from a hurtling, fierce curse he lets loose.
There are more shouts launched their way, but they both tune them out. Voldemort is weakening before their eyes, Remus can clearly see it. He thinks the Order does too, because everyone leaves them alone, centering their efforts on the Death Eaters hurling spells their way. Remus tries desperately not to think about them, all his friends in so much danger, still caring far more than he thinks he has any right to anymore.
And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it's all over. Sirius screams at Remus' side, nothing but a snarl of sound, a flash of green light escaping from his wand. Voldemort stumbles backwards, tries to dodge, but it strikes him in the shoulder, sending him toppling over. Remus thinks that's the end of it, but Sirius lets loose another curse, this one as purple as his eyes and their matching shield, black strands coursing through it. It crackles in the air as it's released, soaring across the expansive distance, winding like chains around the prone body on the ground, tightening around it, straining until it looks as though it will break and dissolve. Remus watches as it keeps going until the body explodes in dark dust, purple light sizzling through the cloud like ominous heat lightning.
Remus wobbles a little in shock, but a hand reaches out, gripping around his upper arm, a digital touch of snaking, squeezing pressure. He looks sideways, but Sirius is staring forwards, watching the cloud as it slowly whisks away in the wind, his gaze narrowed. But as he finally turns to look at Remus, it relaxes, something like pride and smugness glittering in his still violet eyes. Remus will never admit to it, but he longs for the grey of an approaching storm.
Sirius suddenly smiles, still sharp at the edges, but somehow soft in the middle. His hand moves, winding into the front of Remus' shirt. He tugs him forward into a hard, forceful kiss, and Remus loses all his breath.
"What the fuck, Lupin?" he hears from James somewhere behind them, but they both ignore it as Sirius pulls away.
"I told you I knew what I was doing," he says with a touch of wickedness. Sirius pulls Remus to him again, biting at his lower lip this time, and Remus thinks it's probably mostly a show for James and anyone else who dares to watch and judge, but Remus can't find it in him to care. "Now," he starts, "let's get this out of – "
"Sirius Black," says a gruff voice from their sides, approaching quickly, and Remus recognizes it instantly, something in him going cold again, "you are being contained for the crimes of murder on several counts, the maiming of dozens of witches and wizards, and kidnapping. And I've no doubt there's more. You'll be taken directly to Azkaban to await trial."
Alastor Moody is behind Sirius now, locking him in a firm hold as Kingsley steps up next to him, waving his wand to attempt to bind Sirius' hands behind his back. Remus looks around in a frenzy, unable to believe what he's hearing. The others are scattered, trying to round up the Death Eaters that hadn't immediately vanished when Voldemort had fallen.
"What?" he shouts angrily. "You can't be serious! He just killed Lord fucking Voldemort when no one else could bring him down! You can't take him."
Sirius is struggling furiously in Moody's hold, but his eyes remain locked on Remus, seeming nearly desperate. Moody gives him a hard yank to try to keep him still.
"Stop fighting it, Black. We've got you now. Won't be letting you go easily," snaps Moody as Kingsley begins to flick is wand over Sirius' arms.
"Fuck, just wait!" roars Sirius, increasing his efforts, and it's definitely desperation in his glowing eyes, terror merging with it as he holds Remus' gaze. "I have to get it out of him! I'm the only one who can. I won't fucking run, just let me save him. He'll die if I don't!"
Kingsley and Moody still behind him, glancing at one another, then at Remus, frowning deeply.
"What did you do, Remus?" asks Kingsley, a deep, steady rumble, but Remus can hear the wariness in his voice.
But he's not paying much attention to them, staring back at the mounting determination and fear taking over Sirius' face. He'd forgotten to notice, had let it all slip away with his focus turning to more pressing matters, but now that Sirius has brought it back to the forefront of his mind, Remus can feel it again, that horrible burn through his entire body, worse than it had been when they'd left Grimmauld Place. He feels as though he's melting from the inside out.
Remus grimaces at it washes through him again, lighting his nerves up like calling beacons, pulling all the pain of the world to him. Something flickers across Sirius' face and he struggles harder in Moody's grip, curses flying from his mouth as the other man keeps his firm hold, looking suspicious.
"Release him, Alastor."
Four heads jerk in the direction of Albus Dumbledore, the man standing a small distance away, observing the scene stoically. Moody scowls darkly.
"Albus, you can't think – "
"Mr Black isn't going to run," say Dumbledore with the sort of weighted knowledge Remus has always marveled over, wondering what he had to do in his own life to become that confident in all his words and claims. Blue eyes settle on Sirius, and the two men stare at one another, Sirius' face twisted into something horrible and spiteful. "Release him. Allow him to do what is needed. Then you may take him."
"No!" cries Remus, but it's weak, the crippling heat inside his body beginning to burn at his throat like swelling flames. Sirius' head rounds to him again, Dumbledore forgotten.
Moody reluctantly withdraws his grip, him and Kingsley stepping back just enough to give Sirius room to move. He pulls his arms around to his front, rubbing idly over his wrists. His gaze flickers over Remus, and for a moment, he thinks Sirius is going to flee, but he doesn't. Instead, he grabs up his wand where it had fallen to the ground and positions himself directly in front of Remus, nearly chest to chest.
"Take a deep breath," he advises, pressing the tip of his wand to the side of Remus' throat with gentle pressure. There's something in his expression, a sick sort of resignation, maybe even a touch of sadness. Remus can't look away. "This is going to hurt."
Sirius' lips move, no sound emerging from them, and Remus does as he's told, inhaling deeply. He grits his teeth, Sirius watching his every movement carefully as the pain ripping through him begins to retreat from the outer edges of his body, gathering in that one place where the wand rests. Remus trembles with it as it reaches unimaginable levels, worse than he's felt through any transformation or nasty piece of spellwork he's ever been struck with.
Remus groans, his knees nearly buckling beneath him. Sirius reaches up with his free hand, gripping Remus' chin between his thumb and forefinger, like he's holding him up. The touch should rightfully do nothing to stabilize him, but somehow it does. And, as the pain increases to blinding, white-hot levels inside him, the kiss the other man graces over his lips grounds him further, rooting him in place. His mind flickers away from everything, the burn dulling to a faint ache with the distraction, something else flaring in its place that Remus doesn't have the mental capabilities to dissect in the moment.
The kiss holds until Remus senses, more than feels, the wand retreating from his throat. Sirius pulls back, his hand dropping, fingers wrapping almost tenderly around his neck, cool skin against the overwhelming heat of Remus' own. He sucks in a ragged breath, everything in him feeling exposed to the night air, raw and sensitive. Sirius studies him solemnly, none of his usual coldness or callousness present in his expression. His eyes shift over Remus for a long moment as purple wisps of almost smoke streak through the air around them before dissipating like sun-struck fog.
Yet, as Remus watches him, something flickers through his eyes, a curious sort of wickedness, not of his typical mocking quality, but somehow different. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards, and Remus can see exactly what he's thinking. He refrains from laughing hysterically.
Sirius leans in close once more, gaze fixed on Remus as their lips connect again, dancing together as he whispers, "I'll see you again someday, Remus." He knows Sirius can feel the shudder that races through his body, the smile against his mouth evident. Remus knows exactly what he's going to do, but he makes no move to stop him as Sirius steps away again. "It's been fun, ladies and gentlefolk – " His dark eyes dart in Remus' direction one last time, so many promises and things left to do within them. " – so much fun – but I'm afraid I'll be taking my leave of you now. Sorry I can't stick around – "
Kingsley and Moody are lurching forward suddenly with their wands drawn, but they stumble to a halt when a vicious shriek rings out around the clearing. Remus' head whips around in just enough time to see Bellatrix on her feet from where she had been laying unconscious from Sirius' earlier spell. Her face is livid, her wand lashing over her head as she brings her arm down in a violent, predatory swipe.
"Sectumsempra!" she screams just before someone tackles her down from the side, but it's too late. The curse flies through the air directly towards them, aiming for Remus where he's frozen in place, unable to move. Just before the spell collides, something heavy knocks into his side, sending him sideways, teetering on his feet before he balances out, turning quickly.
Remus sees Sirius standing in his place, and he looks fine from what's within his view. He thinks, briefly, that the curse had missed, somehow, but then Sirius is stumbling a little, angling toward him just enough for Remus to make out the splatter of darkness staining his chest and stretching up one side of his neck, a gaping, seeping wound so horrible it nearly causes Remus to be ill in the grass beneath his feet.
Sirius' mouth opens, no sound emerging from his parted lips, and then he's falling, falling, endlessly falling.
When Remus enters the house again, he finds Sirius sitting at the base of the stairs, leaning forward over his spread knees. He stares as Remus steps through the door, expression unreadable, eyes cold. He looks as though he's been waiting, like he knew Remus would be returning like this, angry, furious, enraged, ready to slice his throat open, rip it out with his own teeth, wolf be damned.
Sirius watches him silently, and Remus finds himself wondering when his head had shifted so permanently. He can't remember when the transition had happened, if it had been sudden, like a switch flipping, or slow, taking root, stretching out in his mind and body like creeping vines, steadily taking him over and smothering him before he'd even been aware of it happening. When had Black become wholly and unalterably Sirius?
"You failed," he says finally. "Again." But he doesn't sound angry, his tone flat, like he isn't preparing some punishment in his head as they speak. Remus doesn't trust it.
"You're a fool to think I'd ever go through with that," he spits at the other man.
Sirius' expression changes suddenly, a smirk pulling into place as he leans back gracefully against the step behind him, elbows planting over it. "Am I?" he asks, voice nearly serene, and Remus can't help the frown that takes him over. His legs spread further apart, like he's searching out a more comfortable position, but something about it pulls Remus' focus before he shakes it away. Sirius' smirk deepens.
"Do you honestly believe I sent you out tonight with any intention of you actually succeeding in either endeavor? James Potter," he scoffs, eyes flicking up to the ceiling in dark amusement before they settle back on Remus. "Always the golden boy, towering over everyone on his high fucking horse. Like he'd ever give in to anything I asked for, regardless of what it was or what it would mean if he didn't. He would die, willingly, rather than bend to someone else's will that he doesn't agree with. Stupid, but I'm not his keeper."
Sirius' leg begins to rock from side to side as he licks over one side of his back teeth, mouth parted a little as he continues to stare at Remus. "What is surprising to me is that he ran," he admits. "I never saw that coming. Sometimes it's nice, not knowing every possible outcome, but it's a curse, always thinking twenty steps ahead of everything. But I suppose if he was going to listen to anyone, it would be you, even now."
Remus' eyes widen. "You saw that?" he demands, taking a step back. Sirius only smiles, and it's chilling, turning something inside Remus to a block of ice that melts again with the heat contained in those grey eyes. And he doesn't understand any of it, why he'd been sent there in the first place, why Sirius had played this game that had no possible winning scenario, until something clicks for him. "You were testing me."
Sirius' eyes light up, sparking with something, and he leans forward again, face flooding with some sort of cruel excitement. "Oh, he's getting somewhere," he mocks with a deprecating tone. "Of course I was testing you. And you passed."
"Passed what?" shouts Remus. "How? And what the fuck are you doing, stealing magic from people? Are you handing it over to Voldemort, making him more powerful? Is that what this is about?"
Sirius snorts, rolling his eyes, his body relaxing again. "Voldemort," he scoffs. "Like I'd ever do anything for that pompous twit. Did you really think I was on his side? Seen a mark on my arm, Remus? You've explored me enough by now." Remus doesn't answer, mentally stumbling a bit, and Sirius smiles again, obviously seeing it. "I happen to like the way of the world, believe it or not. I get to play, do as I like, but still get that thrill because people that tout themselves as better than me view my actions as wrong. What do I gain if Voldemort wins? Nothing. And those that follow him seem to be too blind to see that he hates purebloods just as much as Muggles and Mudbloods. He doesn't care about any of them. That agenda he spouts, that they all believe in so much is pointless to him. He only wants to be the tops, no one over him, no one left to ever look down on him."
"If that's true, then none of this makes any sense," snaps Remus. "You're not playing for Voldemort, and you're clearly against Dumbledore. So what's the point? Why are you doing this, stealing people's magic away from them, leaving them broken shells? And why do you need me so badly, so much you have to test something and then not even fucking explain it?"
Remus is panting with the force of his rage, of his heartbreak at losing everything, so much harder than he'd ever thought, even back when it had all felt so useless, and he'd crumbled at Sirius' feet to begin with. He thinks the other man is doing nothing but toying with him now. That would make sense, more than anything else. Remus can see that, is able to puzzle it out and sort through it. No other explanation will compute.
Sirius studies him, eyes sweeping over Remus slowly, and then he's standing, stepping forward, speaking as he does so, a curious tone to his voice. "Did you notice anything different tonight?" he asks. "Anything that…wasn't as it has been since you came here?"
"No," grinds out Remus through gritted teeth.
Sirius hums, in front of him now. "What about with the Potters? Something happened there, didn't it? Like it did when you interfered with the children. You broke through the spells, held back my control over you. You felt something then, didn't you?" Remus doesn't answer, because Sirius already knows exactly what he'd felt, that snapping of some cord inside him. Sirius had been in his head, is in his head every night, probably all the time. "Why did you come back here tonight, Remus?" And the voice is a whisper now, a caress of fingers down Remus' spine.
"Because I didn't have a bloody choice," snaps Remus, teeth clenched so hard he thinks they might shatter in his mouth.
Sirius' head cocks to the side a little. "Didn't you?" he offers out, and his eyes gleam like dangerous, burning stars, nearly feral in their intensity. "Think about it, won't you? Something happened while you were in Godric's Hollow, something broke, but it never stopped, did it? It kept fraying as you stood there, got easier for you to resist following after them, from going through with my instructions that you've never been able to fight before unless I've allowed it. Even with the kids."
Remus' face is faltering as Sirius speaks, because he hadn't realized that, but it seems so clear now. That control had been an iron fist Remus had felt around his throat and heart and mind for months now. It had never relented, not once. Remus had only become better at ignoring it was there at all. But tonight…
Sirius smiles again, and it twists Remus' stomach into a tight knot. "Search around in there a bit if you'd like," he throws out with terrifying delight, "but you won't find it anymore. It was gone by the time you left. Which means you came back here because you want to be here. I didn't force you to anything, Remus. You came on your own. You've forged your own binds, formed that tie between us, and everything is linked directly to me, just as sturdy and unyielding as the ones the moon has over you."
He steps forward once more until they're nearly touching, his hand coming up, wrapping around Remus' throat, fingers digging in with the perfect amount of pressure. Remus isn't sure when that happened, when the threat petered away and turned to a thrill instead. He swallows under Sirius' hold, feeling his breath over his own face.
"And now," continues Sirius, voice a whisper, a lullaby promising endless, terrifying sleep, "you are wholly, completely, inarguably, unbreakably mine."
Remus draws in a sudden, jarring, shuddering breath, unsure when he'd stopped breathing in the first place. Sirius grins toothily, the expression sharp, razor-edged, volatile. Then he's there, closing that distance, mouth over Remus' as he pushes him back into the door. Remus clutches at him, half-fighting, half clawing for him to be closer, nothing separating them. Horrifying understanding and something desperate and keening battle against one another inside him until they're melding, becoming one thing, inseparable. And Remus feels himself falling, crashing down to the pointed rocks below a dark cliff face.
When Sirius finally pulls away, he looks smug, satisfied. Remus fights the urge to force them back together again.
"Come with me," he says, taking a step back, all touch ceasing. Remus nearly scrambles for it, mind thrown into chaos. "You've finally earned the right to know exactly what I'm doing."
Sirius turns and walks away then, mounting the stairs. Remus follows without argument, trapped in some sort of thick haze he can't break his way through.
Sirius leads him up to the top floor of the house and into a very small room. It's dark inside, and Remus has just enough time to make out the vague shapes of shelves, wondering if they're in some sort of tiny library, before the door closes behind him, plunging them into blackness. He can hear the other man moving around him, can smell him, his senses heightening to exaggerated levels with the loss of his sight.
But then a small light springs up to one side of him, and Remus can just make out the shape of Sirius' body hovering near it. Remus steps closer, looking at Sirius, his face glowing ominously in the strange purple hue of the ethereal light, but finding him looking down at the small vial on the shelf containing the thing, Remus redirects his attention.
He leans down, peering closely at the what's inside the glass. It's odd, a sort of liquid that somehow holds no substance and wisps out from itself, swirling almost lazily, sometimes barely moving at all.
"It's weak," says Sirius, and Remus startles as the deafening silence crashes down around them. "The weaker it is, the less it moves."
"What are you – ?" begins Remus, frowning at him, not understanding, but then Sirius is tapping at the side of the vial, and everything changes.
Two more vials come into focus, lighting up on either side of the first, before more follow. It's like dominos falling, a chain reaction, more and more stuttering and flickering to life around them until they're surrounded by them, dozens of the same thing, washing the room in that same eerie glow.
Remus stares around, some sort of horror overtaking him that he doesn't immediately understand. There are dozens of small vials, all containing various states of those same strange little wisps of things.
"What are these?" he finally asks, voice only a whisper, like it's afraid to become louder, like he'd be disturbing something divine, or something so terrifying no one could possibly survive it.
"Magic," comes Sirius' easy response, staring at Remus now through the faint light. "It's magic." He taps the same vial again idly. "See how some of them move better than others? How some of them never stop struggling, fighting to break through the glass? Those are the strongest. It means the witch or wizard it was taken from was powerful, upper level. They had that raw sort of talent most can only dream about. Then there are the ones like this." He taps against the vial once more before removing his hand. "Weak and sluggish. Those people were barely above Squibs as far as abilities go. Maybe they studied hard during school, but they never would have amounted to much, would have struggled their entire lives, pushed into the background. I think I made them better."
"Better?" cries Remus. "By ripping out a piece of who they are? Leaving them broken beyond repair? How is any of that better?" Sirius only shrugs, looking unaffected and uncaring. Remus' eyes narrow. "Would you be better for it?"
"Of course not," he scoffs, rolling his eyes before settling them back on Remus coldly. "But I'd never let someone take mine, and if they did, they likely wouldn’t survive it. Magic can be volatile when extracted, and mine would be murderous."
Remus tries not to shudder at the chill contained within the words. Sirius continues to stare at him, and Remus can see it in his eyes, how little he cares about anything. Nothing is important to him, not really. Sirius Black is empty, and that's far more dangerous than anything else he could ever be.
"I'm going to kill him," states Sirius abruptly, startling Remus from his thoughts. At his blank look, Sirius huffs in irritation. "Voldemort. I'm going to kill him. But it can't be done with something as simple as a spell. He's done something, but I'm not sure what. My brother tried to tell me before he vanished, but he wasn't making much sense with it. I think he'd gone a little mad by that point." Sirius' eyes grow a bit distant for a moment before he seems to flick his thoughts away like a pesky fly. "I've tried looking into it since then, but I can't find anything. So now this is my plan. I'm going to use the combined force of dozens of layers of magic to bring him down."
"You're going to – " Remus begins to repeat before he stops, gawking at the other man. "You're insane," he breathes. "You really are. People have always said that about the Black family, about you, that insanity runs rampant, but I've never believed it, not really. But to think you can do this – you have to be. There's no other explanation."
Remus shakes his head as Sirius continues to stare at him, expression a blank mask. "You can't honestly believe this will work. It will kill you. That much raw magic trapped inside one body is enough to cause you to explode – or implode. I'm not sure which, but it isn't possible. One person cannot contain it."
He expects Sirius to lash out, anticipates a hand around his throat, something that's become almost commonplace and dull in the passing months. He expects a curse, pain caused by the whip of a wand. But the one thing Remus never sees coming is the broad, stretching smile that spreads over the other man's face.
"Who said it was going to be just me?" he asks, leaning forward in Remus' direction a little, his eyes flashing with unimaginable heat, like the unbearable, suffocating crush of it when trapped in those dog days of summer sun. "You're doing it too, Remus. That curse trapped in your bones is exactly the sort of strength that's needed for this."
Remus' heart stops beating in his chest at the words. He's not sure it will ever start again.
"What about your eyes?" Remus had hissed as they'd made their way down the hillside. Sirius had glanced at him in silent question, still stony-faced and looking mildly irritated to have his attention pulled during their approach. "Do you not think they'll immediately suspect something nefarious when you show up glowing purple like the most obvious neon sign in the world? And I'll guess mine don't look much different."
Sirius' gaze raked over him before he looked forward again. "They can't see it," he'd supplied cryptically. Remus had opened his mouth to demand a better answer, but Sirius had continued before he could form the words. "You can only see it because of the extra magic I placed inside you. To them, we look normal. Nothing is going to tip them off so long as you do as you're meant and keep that mouth of yours shut tight. Don't speak. Don't say a word. Don't even think. Voldemort uses Legilimency just as Dumbledore does, and I'll never be fool enough to think he hasn't mastered it nearly as well. Just think about something innocuous. Or how infatuated you are with me. That'll work too."
"Prick," Remus had muttered.
"Yes, I know you'd like that, but now's not the time, Remus." Sirius had looked so smug in that moment, Remus had wanted to knock him off his feet.
Now, the smugness is gone, haughty indifference taking its place as easily as water seeping through the smallest of cracks. They stand inside a loose semi-circle of masked individuals, Voldemort at the helm, dark eyes critiquing them. Remus tries his best to keep his mind clear, to look as aloof as Sirius. He knows the other man had likely been joking, mostly, but he's finding focusing on him is helping.
He looks almost cocky, like they're not currently in one of the most dangerous, life-threatening situations they could find themselves trapped in. Sirius stares back at Voldemort with that easy sort of grace he's so attuned to, coming almost naturally to him, like nothing can possibly faze him. Like nothing, not even death, can touch him. Remus thinks it's inherently stupid, but he can't stop himself from marveling in the face of it.
"I must admit, I was surprised when you finally agreed to this meeting," comes the cold voice from in front of them. Sirius never so much as twitches. "Especially after hearing news of a similar meeting with Dumbledore some months ago."
Sirius produces a smile just as cold and unnerving as the voice. Remus refrains from shuddering under its icy weight.
"He was being nosy," says Sirius crisply. "Insufferable old fool, just as he's always been. My meeting with him means nothing to you, no more than this meeting means to him."
"Have you finally decided to join us?" inquires Voldemort, gesturing with a bony hand around him. "Your family will be pleased."
Someone suddenly steps forward with a simpering laugh, the mask covering their face being removed. A woman that looks remarkably like Sirius, same dark hair and crystalline eyes, pale skin, and narrowed features, stares back at them. The only true differences Remus can see is a more manic expression coating her face.
"Dear cousin," she says sweetly, a bite in her voice, menacing and sharp, "I was beginning to doubt you."
Sirius' expression doesn't change, but Remus sees something flash through his eyes, the purple only he can view flaring darker for a moment. After a silent span of time, one corner of his mouth quirks upwards.
"Bellatrix," he offers, nearly dismissively. "Good to see that madness is still holding strong. How're those voices in your head? Still insufferably loud? Do they sound like my mother?"
The woman – Bellatrix – frowns, her nose twisting a little, her dislike shining through. "You always were exceedingly good at backing yourself into the most troublesome of corners, darling Sirius," she murmurs. Then her tone turns to nearly a coo as she leans forward on the balls of her feet. "The only voice I hear inside my head is that of your precious little brother screaming as he died." A smile spreads over her face, sharp and feral, saliva nearly pouring from her stretched lips.
Sirius' expression still doesn't shift or alter, but Remus can feel, more than see, the tensing of his shoulders. He's not mentioned his brother often, acting as though he doesn't care, but Remus can see it now, what he keeps hidden away from all prying eyes. That undeniable bond of siblings, no matter the strain.
"Regulus ran away," counters Sirius, tone still even, smooth, not matching the fire building in his lilac-tinted eyes. "Disappeared into the night with little more than a word."
"Did he?" asks Bellatrix coyly. Sirius continues to stare at her and she abruptly begins to laugh, head throwing backwards, chest heaving from the mighty force hitting her lungs. If Sirius' laugh is chilling, hers is like being engulfed inside an avalanche of ice, no way to move, no air left to breathe. "Regulus is scattered in pieces all over Russia. You'll never find them all," she cries in pure delight, eyes flashing with sinister light.
Sirius' wand is drawn before Remus can blink or track it, blue light soaring across the open space. Bellatrix is thrown off her feet as it strikes her, the woman not anticipating it either, Sirius too quick in his movements and reactions. She flies backwards, hitting into a wall of Death Eaters, knocking several of them to the ground with the impact. Sirius doesn't wait, turning on his heel, wand raised and pointed directly at Voldemort.
"Now, Remus!" he roars suddenly, jolting Remus from his startled haze.
Remus has so many questions he'd never thought to ask until now. Mainly, what about the others? They're surrounded. There's no way Voldemort's followers will allow their Dark Lord to be attacked without retaliating. But Remus can't begin to ask now, Sirius already throwing out a spell as his eyes deepen in their purple hue, two balls of curiously tinted fire burning through the setting night. The others are jumping into action quickly, beginning to converge on them, wands also raised even as Voldemort draws his own and deflects the curse easily.
"Do you really think you can win this, Sirius?" hisses Voldemort, throwing his own spell that Sirius dodges with practiced grace, like he's done nothing but this his entire life. Remus wonders if maybe he has, so many different facets to the man by his side that he thinks he's never truly seen until now.
Spells fly their way that Remus tries his best to deflect, Sirius having eyes for no one but Voldemort. But as Remus sees him begin to form another curse, death looming in his nightmarish gaze as he stares back at Sirius, his blood runs cold, and he reacts before he can think twice about what he's doing.
"Expulso!" he shouts, whipping his wand furiously in his hand. Voldemort bats it away like a pesky, irritating fly, but Remus hardly notices, something intriguing happening around him with the usage of the spell. Dazzling purple light expands from him and Sirius, doming around them at first before it begins to shrink, morphing to fit their forms like the tightest fitting of shields. The spells thrown from the surrounding Death Eaters bounce off them like they're coated in titanium.
Sirius turns to him, grin spreading broadly, expression practically elated. Remus has never seen anything like it, the complete shift over the other man, the brightness taking him over so suddenly it leaves him reeling from its crash. But then Sirius is angling back towards Voldemort, his wand flicking violently again, throwing curse after curse, never relenting, eyes narrowed, brow furrowed, utterly focused on his task. Remus spares him one last fleeting glance before he's joining in as well, smothering Voldemort in their unstoppable onslaught.
The normally terrifying man is screaming in rage as he attempts futilely to thwart their efforts, and they're just reaching a good stride, knocking him back, tiring him out, when a deafening level of pops sound around them, like firecrackers sparking in an enclosed space. Remus whips around, spying shadows forming out of the mist that's steadily crept from the trees of the forest like looming castles springing up from nowhere.
More flashes of colored light begin flying around them, at them. Remus hears a sickening scream of his name that sounds far too much like Lily, and he finally understands. The Order has arrived. His heart hammers faster in his chest.
The pair of wary green eyes that greet him when the door opens widen considerably before Remus finds himself encased in arms that are deceptively strong. His own dangle at his sides, letter clutched like a waiting guillotine in his numb fingers.
"Remus," gushes Lily, sounding relieved beyond measure. "Remus, sweetheart, we've been so – "
"Lily, get away from him!"
The woman is suddenly wrenched away from Remus, James standing in front of half of her very pregnant body like a guarding sentinel, wand held aloft. They'd only just found out before he left. He aches with it now as wary hazel eyes settle on him and hold. James' mouth twitches and wobbles a little, like he can't decide what to do.
"What are you doing here?" he finally asks, and Remus grips the letter tighter, fighting the spells working against his body's will. Remus opens his mouth to speak, but James stops him with another question. "What did I tell you when I found out what you were?" he demands harshly.
Remus swallows around the lump in his throat. "That I wasn't a monster. That I could never be a monster," he whispers, and he grimaces with the words. "That I only had a furry little problem."
James relaxes in front of him only marginally. His wand never drops. "What are you doing here?" he repeats, and his eyes are searching, nearly hopeful but looking as though he's holding it back, can't make himself believe it. "We've heard what you've been doing, who you're with now. Why would you do that, Remus? Why?" The last word emerges with a hint of desperation, and Remus wants to step away from it, but he can't make his body move, still bound by something holding him in precise place. He can only go forward now.
Remus shakes his head. He can't speak, voice still locked away somewhere, also against his will, as though by design. Remus knows without doubt it is, Sirius a cruel, imposing figure towering over his entire life now, controlling even this, this one last chance to talk to his once friends he still loves so much it hurts.
"Remus," pleads Lily over James' shoulder, but Remus can't.
"Is this what it is now?" asks James, sounding sad. "Working for Black, doing his bidding without question while he sits on his royal throne, safe and secure, getting exactly what he wants?" Remus watches as the other man's face hardens, covered by a layer of steel. "We never lost faith in you. We never believed what you thought we did. That was your insecurity setting you up for failure, Remus, not ours. There was never any distrust, not from us, but you've ruined that now. You shredded that and threw it away the day you went to him."
Remus still can't speak, but he wants to shout at them, beg them for answers, for why they hadn't just said so. He'd needed them to say it, he'd needed to hear it, but they'd let him drift further away without a word, and Remus doesn't understand.
But James seems to be growing impatient, a little scared, Remus knowing him so well that he can see it in the depths of his eyes. "Why are you here, Remus?" he bites out.
Remus shudders at the coldness in his voice, but his arm lifts, offering out the letter. James eyes it, and then he takes it cautiously, glancing over the front before he rips it open. His face reflects nothing as he reads, wand still trained on Remus. He watches his former friend's fingers grip tighter around the wood, the only reaction he has before he looks back up at Remus.
"Do you know what he's doing?" he asks, voice level, nearly emotionless. "Do you know what he's after with this?" Remus shakes his head, his mouth still sealed closed. James crumples up the parchment and throws it at Remus' chest viciously. "Tell him no. Now leave. Don't ever come back here."
Remus' face turns stricken, and something flashes through James' eyes, Lily stumbling back a little behind him when she sees it. His body tenses, locks down on his muscles, but it doesn't matter, his leg moving against his will, taking a jerky step forward. James aims his wand more accurately, a threat that means nothing to Remus now, silently pleading with them as best he can.
"Remus, don't," warns James, gripping at Lily more firmly. But Remus can't stop, still shifting forward, fighting against it, every effort useless. "He's stealing magic, Remus!" shouts James, and Remus stops suddenly, his body jolting with it in surprise, causing him to teeter a little. James never drops his focus from him. "He's ripping it out of people, damaging them beyond repair, all for his own twisted purposes. And the ones that refuse, he's having them killed so that no one else can gain anything from them ever again."
Something works its way through Remus as the couple stare back at him warily, weight planted on the balls of their feet. He can spy Lily's wand now, just around James' side, but Remus doesn't care. There's a fire in him, a fierce, raging burn searing through his veins, turning his bones to dust. Something plucks at a taut cord in him, everything vibrating, reverberating through him, and then it snaps, not gone, not completely, but loosened.
"Run," hisses Remus, fighting past the gag finally, using all his strength as his wand lifts, trembling visibly in his shaking hand.
James' eyes narrow stubbornly, his shoulders squaring in front of Lily, one arm still around her, a false protection. "No."
"RUN!" roars Remus, something ripping inside him, the word tearing from his throat, shredding it to ragged bits.
James and Lily rock backwards from the force of it, stuttering a little. Their eyes rake over him, taking in the desperation and pleading filling his expression. James hesitates for just a moment before he's squeezing Lily and then nodding once at Remus.
"Go," he says over his shoulder to his wife. "Go, Lils. I'm right behind you."
Lily seems like she wants to protest, but James shoves her away with gentle force, and she disappears from sight around the wall. James remains, staring Remus down, watching his wand, still shaking in his lifted hand. And then he's gone too, a flash of hazel eyes and chaotic black hair, and finally nothing.
Remus bends forward at his waist, everything in him fighting to follow them, but he has just enough control now to fight it back, to remain where he is, to give his friends time to escape. He growls, moans, pain lacing through him as he battles, and then he's screaming into the darkness at his back, rage flooding him, filling every vacant part of himself, drowning out nearly everything else that had once been good.
