Fic: Anatomy of a Wound - part 2

[ceredwensirius]

The knife cruelly twisted

"Dad?" said Remus, knocking on the door to his father's study. "I'm off." It was a familiar sight; his father reclining in his big leather chair, feet up on the ottoman, a steaming cup of tea waiting for him on the desk. He was completely absorbed with a periodical on magical theory of some variety or other and didn't even look up, but just waved Remus in, gesturing to a chair.

Remus set his rucksack down and took a seat, grinning at his father. It was a joke in the family he got his looks from his mother but his temperament from his father. They were two hopeless bookworms.

"Alright," said his father, carefully marking the spot he had been reading before looking up at his son, his expression grim. "Are you certain this is the course you want to take?"

"What I've been doing isn't working, Dad," replied Remus, frustrated. "I'm not sure how to explain it; over the past months I've developed a- I feel like I have this… this kinship with people I've never even met--." Remus quieted and looked down at his hands. He remembered his words to Peter about what a waste of time this was. What a load of bollocks he had fed himself. If it wasn't important to him, he would have found a way to quit months ago.

Remus' father nodded quietly. He steepled his hands together and bounced his chin on the tips of his fingers. "The only way someone can get in or out of those orphanages is if one of the staff takes them there. We met with one of them once on the off chance they had heard anything about a cure."

"You never told me that," said Remus, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. "So that's how you found out where they were located."

"We'd never heard of such a thing, these orphanages, couldn't imagine giving you up, but we were intrigued nonetheless. We didn't learn much, just which villages they were near, that they were hidden in the woods, and that they were more than mere orphanages. He told us about the curriculum and that they did their best to keep the children happy and give them as normal a life as possible. When we thanked the man for his time he was quite surprised we weren't ready to pack you off to his orphanage. He went on to assure us you would be well protected. That's when he started talking about the wards, and not just wards, but magical barriers to physically keep people in and out."

"Dad, if you know this man, why didn't you say something before?" asked Remus. "Can't you just get in touch with him for me?"

"I can't get in touch with him, Remus. I met with the man once over ten years ago. I don't have to tell you how werewolves are seen in our society. These orphanages are kept a secret for a reason. It isn't as though they advertise. I think they must have a way to monitor the registration of young werewolves, probably someone sympathetic in the department, and then contact the parents, offering their institution's services. I feel fairly certain they found us through the many inquiries your mother and I made into cures for lycanthropy."

"Well, you did take me to every witch doctor in Britain and the continent," said Remus. He gave his father a tight smile. As a family they had banded together in their hope for a cure - at least in the beginning. The disappointments had taken their toll, bleeding his parents' savings dry and taxing their endurance.

"We had to try," said his father quietly. "We love you, Remus. You are our son; what else could we do?"

Remus looked down at his hands, feeling a bit uncomfortable with where the conversation had turned. His father cleared his throat, signaling he was going to change the subject. "It will take a wizard like Dumbledore to get past the wards, but you'll need to find them first. It won't be easy and I doubt they'll be pleased to make your acquaintance. You're sure this is your only course of action?"

"Nothing else has worked, dad," said Remus, as he rose from the chair.

His father seemed to accept the answer and rose with Remus and embraced him. "Which location are you headed to first?"

"I thought Sheffield," said Remus as he bent down and picked up his rucksack, slinging it over his shoulder.

His father fiddled with his glasses for a moment. "If I haven't said it before, I'm very proud of the way you've dedicated yourself to this effort."

Remus gave his father a small, pleased smile. "Thanks, Dad, for… everything."

"Good luck, son; I'll see you in a month."

As it was late Autumn, the leaves had already turned and mostly fallen from the branches. Sheffield's forests were known for their beauty and tranquility, especially in the spring and early Autumn. Remus was too late to see it in its glory, which was just as well. He wasn't on a retreat; he had a job to do, a job which was becoming more and more frustrating as the weeks passed with nothing to show for it. He was into his fourth week when the already cold weather turned wet again. It started early in the day as nothing more than a light misting, but by the time evening was closing in, the rain was coming down in sheets and the skies were embattled in open warfare, the thunder rattling Remus' bones and lighting jagged across the sky, casting the skeletal trees in an eerie bluish glow. He was about to Disapparate back to the boarding house where he was staying when he was lifted off his feet and knocked ten feet back. Pain thundered through his skull as it collided with something solid. Bright specks of light danced in his peripheral, shimmering vividly just before the world went black.

Some while later, Remus didn't know how long, he came to. Pain, pulsating relentlessly, seeped into his subconscious as did the bitter cold, slowly rousing him back to awareness. The forest was pitch black, it was still raining and he was lying in a puddle of mud and standing water. What the hell had happened? Had he been struck by lightening? He was thoroughly soaked, from his hair right down to his toes, which meant his charms and enchantments had failed. It took no small amount of effort to get his bearings and see to his basic needs.

Once he was dry and not quite as cold, he slowly got to his feet, the pain making it difficult to think. It was too dark and too wet for him to puzzle out what had happened to him, not to mention his head throbbed. He hoisted the rucksack onto his shoulder, trying to decide whether to risk Apparition or not, when a sound pierced the night that almost sounded like a scream. The forest was bathed in light followed by thunder, preventing Remus from hearing clearly. When the rumbling died away the air carried the sound of more screams, he was sure of it now. A chill crawled down his spine as he drew his wand and then moved carefully forward in the dark, unsure what he was going to find. There was a scent on the air he couldn't immediately identify, but it struck fear in the wolf. It was a sharp, acrid scent which was very familiar, but he just couldn't place it. His head was hurting a little less, but he still felt disoriented.

He was pulled up short when, over the screams and in the empty space between claps of thunder, a commanding male voice rang out clear and loud. Then there was another male voice, harsh and cruel, arguing with the first, though Remus couldn't make out the words. He moved closer, straining to hear the disagreement. As he neared, the scent became sharper. Fire. The screams were louder now, and he was almost sure he could hear the crack of Apparition. He could make out a few words of the argument still raging between the two men. It had to do with ages and not getting all of… something. Someone swore loudly and then there was a rapid fire series of cracks.

When Remus broke past the line of trees and into a clearing it was in time to see a wizard in dark robes point his wand at the night sky. A flash of green shot from the tip of his wand, setting an enormous green skull with a snake twisting out of its mouth to writhe in the sky above a cluster of burning buildings. Remus heard the crack as he shot off a stunning spell which whistled through the vacant space that had just contained a Death Eater.

Remus stared helplessly at the burning buildings. This had to be the orphanage. What were Death Eaters doing here? Though it was difficult, he managed to find a memory happy enough to produce a Patronus. "Expecto Patronum!"

A large silver dog leapt from his wand, cavorted to his side with its mouth open and tongue lolling out, and awaited Remus' instructions. "The werewolf orphanage in Sheffield has been attacked by Death Eaters. They set fire to all the buildings. They've cleared out but there may still be children in the buildings. Send help," said Remus. "Take that message to Dumbledore." The canine leapt forth and sped off into the night, leaving a silvery trail like a comet's tail. It was only then Remus realized they had no idea where the orphanage was or that it even existed. All he could do was hope that per usual, Dumbledore knew more than he let on.

Remus took a breath and ran toward the nearest of the burning buildings. In the orange glow of the fire he could see the buildings were all red brick and that the fires had been set to the only flammable materials, the roofs and doors. The one closest to him had wooden double doors which were completely engulfed in flames. From inside, his preternatural hearing picked up the sound of whimpering children. There was no way to communicate through the brick and mortar and the entire building was completely devoid of windows. He had to get them out and there was only one spell he knew that could blast a hole in the side of a wall. It presented a risk of flying debris, but it was better than burning alive.

"Deprimo!"

The bricks exploded inward as a large hole was punched into the side of the wall. Remus stuck his head into the building and looked around at what appeared to be an entertainment center. Only one gaming table was standing correctly, the rest overturned, the lino floor scattered with utilitarian children's chairs, tables and two worn out couches. Scratchy, static-filled music tinkled unsteadily from somewhere in the room, and the room itself was too warm, smoky, and filled with a dim, rusty glow from the fire. Inside it were about ten children between the ages of five and ten crowded around a witch who was either dead or unconscious. Every little face looked up at him with fear and mistrust.

"I'm here to help," he said as soothingly as possible. They had to get out of this building before the roof fell in. He scrambled through the hole and then crouched low so he wasn't towering over them. The children shuffled a little closer to the witch on the floor. "I know you've had a scary night, I know you don't know me. I promise I'm here to help you and your teacher. I need for you all to go out through that hole and stay together."

None of the children moved at first, looking at each other uncertainly. Then a few of the older ones took charge and began herding the rest of them toward the exit in the wall. Remus took the opportunity to get closer to the witch. He bent over and touched his fingers to her neck to feel for a pulse. To his great relief she was just knocked out, not in serious danger or dead.

He glanced up at the children to make sure they were getting out safely. The older ones were helping the younger ones through the hole. Only one tiny blonde girl held fast to the witch's hand and clearly didn't want to let go.

"You aren't going to hurt her?" she asked Remus.

"I'm going to try and wake her up so I can get her to safety," said Remus. "Go on, now. Let me help her." Another girl, about three years older, grabbed the blonde child's other hand and pulled her away. Remus didn't want either of the girls to see him cast spells on their teacher or whatever the witch happened to be to them, and have them misunderstand his intentions. He waited for the older girl to walk the blonde to the hole and help her through before doing anything to the witch.

"Ennervate!"

The witch slowly blinked her eyes open and made a small sound of pain. Remus allowed her a moment to gain her bearings, giving her hand a squeeze to get her attention. She turned her head to him, eyes full of fear. "My name is Remus Lupin and I'm here to help," he said quickly. "Can you stand? The building is on fire so we need to get out of here. The rain is slowing it down but it won't stop it."

"Where are the children? They were here, are they safe?" Remus winced at how rough and raw her voice sounded.

"Yes," said Remus. "I got them all out, but we need to get you out. Do you mind terribly if I ask for your name?"

The witch visibly relaxed. "H-Hazel," she said. "My name is Hazel. I think my leg is broken." In the dull light of the flames he could see there was a fresh scratch on her right cheek and another on her chin. Her blouse was ripped in several places and her hands bore burn marks from spells. This witch had put up a fight for her children.

"Let me help you, Hazel," said Remus. As he helped her up he heard the pop of Apparition from the other side of the wall. Beside him, Hazel tensed. "I sent for help," murmured Remus, hoping to soothe her. If it was the return of the Death Eaters, there was nothing Remus could do to stop them. Help was on the way and he could only pray it had arrived. They hobbled toward the hole Remus had blasted in the wall, his arm around Hazel's waist to support her.

"They took the older ones," said Hazel, her voice breaking. "What could they possibly want? They're just children."

"I don't know," replied Remus. "I'm so sorry, but I don't have any answers." As he began to help her through the hole, hands from outside reached in to help.

"Come on, love," said an achingly familiar voice from the other side. "I'm here to help."

Remus froze. He watched as she was pulled to safety. He'd expected a cadre of Aurors; he hadn't expected the one person he last wanted to see on a night like this.

From the opposite end of the building a section of the ceiling groaned bringing Remus back to his senses and the very real danger he was in. The rain was keeping the flames from spreading too fast, but that didn't make it safe. As he put one leg through, he heard Sirius using his soothing voice, talking with Hazel and the children.

"That man, the other man, ah, Reece, I think his name was," said Hazel. "Why hasn't he come out? I hope nothing happened to him."

"Wait, what? There's someone still in the building?" said Sirius, alarmed and immediately dropping the soothing tone.

"No, I'm out," said Remus as he straightened up. There was an addition to the scene which hadn't been there before. A large tent had been erected; Sirius was kneeling beside it and Remus could see he was holding someone's hand. Toward the back of the tent a crowd of small faces huddled together and peered out at Remus and a world which had just gotten a lot scarier.

"Remus." Sirius patted the hand he was holding and murmured something to its owner, before stepping away from the shelter. He gave Remus a worried look as he approached. "Are you all right?" he asked as he pulled Remus aside. "Were you hurt?

"I'm fine," said Remus, not mentioning the blow to the head he had taken. "Have you checked the other buildings?"

"Damn," swore Sirius. "Come on, then."

They took off together at a run and began checking the other buildings. As Remus blew open another hole, he heard several loud cracks behind him. He turned to look and saw Sirius rush over to Moody and the Longbottoms. Remus turned back to his task and leaned through the opening and looked around. Just inside there was a bed which had been pushed back by the force of his spell. Wandlight revealed that this longer building was packed with rows and rows of bunks lining both walls.

"I'm here to help!" called out Remus. "Is there anyone in here?"

"That'll be very helpful if they're unconscious, Lupin," growled a voice behind him. Remus whirled around, catching the back of his head on the blasted bricks. The pain he'd been able to set aside came rushing back. "Need to be more careful," said Auror Moody. He pointed his wand into the building. "Hominum Revelio!" He waited a moment and then grunted, "This one's clear."

Remus massaged the back of his head and tried not to let Moody get to him. The Auror wasn't very friendly with anyone, and he took a dim view of rookie mistakes. Remus knew Moody was right, though, and couldn't help feeling stupid. He would have moved on to the next building, leaving anyone trapped inside to their fate.

"Quit fretting over spilt potion and help us check the other buildings," growled Moody. Overhead lighting arced across the night sky and gave the old Auror a decidedly sinister look with his wild, swiveling eye.

Remus caught a glimpse of Frank and Alice, who were busy checking buildings with Sirius. Remus had never been to a scene like this, but as he helped the others, it was clear they had. It wasn't that they worked in swift methodical precision, it was the tense, grim expression on their faces. They were prepared to find Death Eaters when a building had living people in it. Remus expected this with the Aurors, but Sirius was a surprise. When Remus had last spoken to Sirius he was trying to get information from his family. Clearly he had moved on to more dangerous work, work that brought him into contact with Death Eaters regularly enough to be ready for it.

"Remus," said Alice cautiously. She placed her hand on his arm. "Remus, are you alright?"

"I'm fine; thank you, Alice," he lied. Behind her Frank was leading a group of children away, a conjured canopy keeping the rain from soaking them through.

"Alastor left the last two for us," said Alice, guiding him gently by the arm. She led him through the deluge to the last of the buildings that needed checking. "The others are setting up temporary shelters and doing some preliminary intake. I've already checked, I just need you to help me get the kids out."

"Right," replied Remus wearily, the night and its horrors and revelations taking their toll. "Of course."

Alice hadn't just checked the building, but there was a neat, professional square cut out of the side of it. The children were too small to get out on their own so Remus climbed in with them.

"Are you with the lady?" asked a small boy who couldn't be more than five.

"I am; my name is Remus and I'm here to help," he said kindly. A thought which had been gnawing unpleasantly as building after building was checked and emptied, was that if he had managed to find the barrier and gotten Dumbledore to help him disarm it, would that action, at the outset, be seen any different than an attack? Would Dumbledore have even helped him do such a thing? It wasn't how he looked at it during the planning stages, but after this night, and seeing all these frightened children, it was easy to see why his father had been so apprehensive.

"Can you help Davey, too?" asked the boy. "We can't get him to wake up."

"You first," said Remus. As with the children in the first building, Remus worried it cause further trauma to see him point his wand at one of them. He helped each child out and then turned his attention to boy whose name was Davey. Remus kneeled beside the boy and said, "Ennervate!"

Nothing happened. Remus tried again and still nothing. He put fingers to the boy's neck to feel for a pulse. It was only then he realized the truth of the situation. Remus stared at the child in shock. The boy had a sweet open face with curly blond hair like a cherub and looked disturbingly like he was just sleeping. How could someone so young be dead? How could this have happened? Remus hoisted Davey into his arms and prepared to climb out of the building with him.

"I'm c-cold," said a small voice from outside, teeth chattering together. "When is the lady coming back to get us?"

Remus carefully laid the small body in his arms back down. The rain beat down on the roof overhead as he stood and looked down at the innocent at his feet. He just couldn't let the concerned little boy see his friend was dead and there was just no way to hide such a thing. He wouldn't be able to explain it and he was certain he couldn't lie about it. There was nothing left he could do for Davey, but those cold, wet children just outside still needed him. Alice must have taken her group to the shelters the others had gone to set up. Remus shook from head to toe as he climbed out of the building, feeling anger and grief over the death of a child he had never known in life.

"Where's Davey?"

"Davey is-" but Remus couldn't finish the sentence, not with Davey's little friend looking up at him so expectantly. "We have to get you out of the rain, come on."

"But-"

"Please," begged Remus, distressed and urgent. "Come on; let's get out of the rain."

The boy's face drew up in anger but he said nothing, only stomped away from Remus reminding him of a young Sirius who would often do the same when he was closer to this boy's age. Remus let out a breath and murmured to the other children that they should get moving.

He felt numb and detached as he walked the children across their own campus, now foreign with flames and terror. Remus instinctively hushed them when they whimpered with fright when the thunder was too loud or the lighting too bright. His movements did not feel like his own as he helped each child into a tent, as though someone else were in charge of his body and he a puppet on strings. His mind created a distance, a cavern to retreat in between himself and the cruel reality etched on every small, terrified face.

"Good work," said Moody. "Now, you two," he pointed at Remus and Sirius, "go on and get out of here."

"What?" said Remus. The rain wasn't going to hold off the fire forever and Davey's body was-- "But there is - there is a - "

"So he can call in the Aurors," murmured Sirius. "They'll need to find places for the kiddos to transform, process the dead, put out the fires. We're not equipped to do all that, not on this scale, and we shouldn't even be here."

"Process the dead," said Remus distantly. Something about the wording made him feel ill. "How do you - what does that mean?"

"Remus, what happened?" said Sirius, his pitch of voice careful as to hide alarm. He stepped closer to Remus. "What's wrong? Tell me."

Before Remus could try and explain himself, Alice exited the tent Remus had helped the children into and walked swiftly over to them. "Remus, one of the children is asking about a Davey. He says you left him behind?"

"Davey is-" said Remus, his voice catching. "Davey didn't, he wasn't-" He looked pleadingly at Alice. Death had never touched his life before and it rattled him. More than he ever thought it would. Ancient relatives in caskets were not the same as a pale, cooling child in your arms.

"Oh, Remus, I had no idea or I never would have sent you in there," said Alice, sorrowful.

"Black, look after this one," said Moody gruffly. "I'd wager it was his first."

Frank put a hand on Remus' shoulder. "It doesn't get easier," he said quietly to Remus, "but you learn how to cope with it."

Remus nodded dumbly, hearing but not really listening, not really able to, and felt Sirius gently squeeze his arm.

"I've got him," said Sirius. "He's tougher than he looks, he'll be fine."

"Dumbledore'll need a full report," said Moody. "We'll be tied up with this."

"I'll take care of it," said Sirius.

"Alright, get out of here, then," said Moody. "You're wasting time."

"You think you can side along?" asked Sirius.

"Of course," said Remus.

Sirius gave his arm a squeeze before turning on the spot. Remus felt pressure all around his body, pushing into him so tight he couldn't breathe, though honestly he wasn't sure he had been breathing before. All he could think about was Davey's tiny little face which would never smile or laugh again. He couldn't let go of having to set aside the boy aside. If he had never picked the child up, Remus didn't think he'd feel this way. It had become personal, he had taken responsibility, he had-

"Remus, hey Remus, you're alright," said Sirius gently. "Remus, look at me; we're here."

Remus looked around. They were in a familiar alley, and he was on his knees. How had he gotten on his knees? "You're taking me to the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Just for the night. You can go back to your parents' farm tomorrow," replied Sirius as he knelt beside Remus. "Can you stand up?"

Remus was about say he could, but instead his whole body revolted, the contents of his stomach spilling onto the cobblestones. Warm hands touched the nape of his neck and then smoothed slowly down his back.

"The first is always the worst," said Sirius quietly. "You know the possibility is there, but nothing can prepare you."

Remus coughed, his mouth nothing but bitter. He wiped his lips on his robes before sitting back on his heels. "I wanted to bring him out. I didn't want his body to-- I didn't think it was right. But the others, they needed me and they didn't need to see- They hadn't gone to safety yet and it was raining. Which… I mean, of course they didn't, they were just kids. They couldn't see the tent and Alice was gone and they had just been-- they had just been--"

"I know, love." Sirius rubbed the back of his neck. It felt lovely and soothing but, as Remus' mind cleared Sirius' touch became more than he could cope with.

"I think I'd like to go lie down now," said Remus as he shrugged Sirius off.

Sirius drew his hand away, his expression hurt. "Come on," he murmured, scuffing his boots against the cobblestones as he stood up.

Remus took the hand Sirius held out and let himself be pulled to his feet. Sirius threaded their fingers together, another ill-timed bid for intimacy. Remus looked down at their joined hands and then closed his eyes. He didn't want to deal with this, whatever this was, on top of everything else tonight. He gave Sirius' hand a squeeze and then let go.

"I'm tired, Sirius," said Remus. "I just want to rest, yeah? It's been a very long night."

"Sorry, I just-"

"Sirius."

Sirius sighed. "Yeah, come on. Let's get you that room."

Remus entered the pub and went straight to the bar, ordered a whiskey and finished it off in one swallow. It was too surreal to be truth; that within the space of an hour he had pulled children out of burning buildings and now he was sitting here waiting while Sirius got a room for him.

Remus rubbed his eyes. He was so tired, and he could just imagine what he looked like. There were scorch marks on his robes as well as tears from the woods, not to mention he was sure he had soot smudged on his face. It wasn't a sight he wanted to bring home to his parents. He felt a wave of gratitude to Sirius for suggesting he stay here tonight even though he questioned some of Sirius' motives.

"I'll have a glass of whatever he's having," said Sirius as he took a seat at the bar. He slid a key over to Remus. "You know what, cancel that. I'll take the whole bottle and two glasses."

"Aren't you expected at home?" said Remus waspishly, still frustrated with Sirius for not understanding why his touch was just too much.

Pain briefly swept across Sirius' face at the barb. "I'm often away a few days at a time. Besides, Lily's always happier when she has James to herself for a few days."

No; Remus was not going to listen to this. So what if he had started it? He was the injured party here. Grabbing the key, he tossed a few coins on the bar to pay for his drink and stood up. He took the stairs up to the first landing, and turned down the hall.

"Would you slow down?" said Sirius, running after him, booze and glasses in hand.

Remus shoved the key in the lock and opened the door without saying a word. Two gas lamps sputtered to life as he entered the room, illuminating the space with a soft glow and installing shadows. The room was furnished with a desk, a chair, and most importantly, a bed. When he heard the door click shut, he rounded on Sirius.

"What do you think is going to happen here?" he demanded. "Because if you think I'm going to be your secret on the side, then you're cracked."

"I just didn't think you should be alone tonight," said Sirius softly, setting down the whiskey and glasses before shrugging out of his soaked robes, and tossing them into a corner. He pulled the chair out and spun it around, falling into it heavily, his arms draped over the back. "You know you can't go home looking like that; your mum will lose her mind. I just wanted to be here if you needed to talk about it; I just didn't want you to deal with this by yourself."

Remus slipped from of his own wet robes and then leaned against the wall, arms crossed, jaw stern. "I don't want to hear about your relationship problems. I don't want to hear how unhappy you are, knowing you won't do anything to change it."

"You're the one who brought it up," pointed out Sirius.

Remus glared at him for a moment. "Just pour me a bloody drink," he said finally.

Sirius leaned against the desk and grabbed the bottle, long legs stretched out in front of him, thighs parted wide by the back of the chair riding between them. The seal tore as he twisted off the cap and then filled both glasses with amber liquid. "Here," he said, offering Remus the tumbler of whiskey. His eyes were mischievous under dark lashes, an amused smirk curling around the corners of his mouth. Sirius was gorgeous, all hard muscle and bad intentions under a white oxford and tight jeans.

Remus crossed the room in high dudgeon and grabbed the glass out of Sirius' hand. "You're shameless," Remus told him as he stepped away. He knew this was just Sirius getting even for the relationship crack down in the pub, but teasing him this way when nothing was on offer was cruel.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," replied Sirius lightly, taking a sip of whiskey and looking inordinately pleased with himself. They both knew Remus was ogling him and Sirius liked it, the bastard. "Should I be ashamed of something, Moony?"

Sirius, Remus knew, was not always a nice man. "You do remember what we've been through tonight, yes?" Remus leaned against the wall once more and took a long, fortifying sip of the strong alcohol.

Sirius took another swallow of whiskey and then leaned forward again. Remus frowned, disappointed the show was over and irritated with his own hypocrisy.

"Yeah," said Sirius after a few moments contemplation. He flashed Remus a quick, apologetic smile, adding softly, "I'm trying to relax and put it out of my mind, and so should you." Sirius put his hand up to forestall Remus' hasty, angry retort. "Look, I know you're angry with me, but just hear me out. This night and all that happened, all you saw, you can't carry it with you. I mean, you will anyway, but… Remus, the fact is, there will be others, many, many others, before this is all over. Sometimes we'll be there, but that kid you're so broke up about?"

"Davey," snarled Remus. "He had a name and friends and people who cared about him and now he's dead." His hand trembled as he brought the glass to his lips.

"I know, love, I know, but the fact is, he got off easy. Hazel told me they broke into the entertainment center and grabbed every kid that looked like they were thirteen or older, both boys and girls, and just took them, and by the look of it, they did the same thing in every building. They came in with force and numbers, took the ones they could use, and then, just to be bastards, set the buildings on fire."

Remus felt a rage build up inside him, and suddenly threw his glass against the opposite wall. "I should have done more!" he shouted. "I was there when they broke the wards! If I had Apparated in, I could have-"

"-gotten yourself killed," finished Sirius. "To pull off that kind of stunt… there must have been dozens of them, too many, Remus. You would have just gotten yourself dead, and those bastards would have gotten what they wanted just the same."

"Then I shouldn't have waited to see what was going on! I could hear the screaming, they were screaming, Sirius, and all I did was sneak through that bloody, sodden forest like some great, stinking coward. I should have realized-- I should have sent for help the moment I came to!"

Sirius set his drink down and abruptly stood up. "Were you hurt?" he asked softly. "Are you all right?"

Remus ignored him. "I should have alerted the Ministry right away, not just Dumbledore. God, I'm so stupid."

"That would have turned the orphanage into a battleground," argued Sirius, tension lacing his brow into lines as he picked up his drink again and sat on the edge of the desk. There was an undercurrent of hurt in his tone, though he appeared nonchalant. Remus knew better and almost wished he didn't. It would make everything so much simpler if he couldn't read Sirius' body language so damn easily. "The Aurors and the whole Order would have come in and instead of a few dead kids," continued Sirius, "there would be dozens of them along with a good number of Aurors and Order members. They already have greater numbers than we do, it would have been senseless to help them thin us out."

"You would have gone in wand blazing," accused Remus. "Don't even try to lie and tell me you wouldn't have."

"You're probably right, and it would have been the wrong decision," conceded Sirius. "I would have gotten just as dead as you, and it would have been for nothing."

"Then what are we fighting for?" said Remus helplessly. "Why even bother?"

"For the battles we can win." Sirius drained his glass in one swallow and poured another. He slid off the desk, and approached Remus cautiously, carefully putting the glass into his hand. Remus closed his eyes against the nearness of Sirius Black and didn't push him away, though he knew he certainly should have. "We gather intelligence," Sirius went on, softer now, "we fight where we can, and try to be smart about it, because if we don't," Sirius tucked a finger under Remus' chin and met his eyes, "they're just going to pick us off one. by. one."

Remus sagged against the wall. He hadn't realized things were already so dire. He gulped down great mouthfuls of whiskey, the liquid burning as it went down. Sirius took the empty glass from Remus and pulled him into his arms. Remus let himself be held, tightening his arms around Sirius.

"We're going to win," Sirius whispered softly, earnestly. "We're going to win because we have to. We're far more desperate than they are, and in the end, I know we'll defeat them." The glow from the gas lamps reflected in Sirius' eyes as he withdrew, inclining to capture Remus in the intense grey gaze he was so susceptible to. Damn him, thought Remus. In a single look, Sirius made Remus feel as though all his vulnerabilities were exposed. He swayed forward, hypnotized, unresisting. "We'll take losses," added Sirius, still whispering, still holding Remus in his gaze, his fingers gently kneading Remus' arms, "maybe every one of us. But it's a fight worth dying for."

"If you really believe that," pleaded Remus, soft but so very intent, "if you really think you could die tomorrow, why aren't you making the most of every minute you have?"

"Is that what you want?" A shadow crossed Sirius' handsome face which, for a moment, stole away the charismatic warrior and replaced him with something far less certain. Remus curled his fingers, twisting the fabric of the white cotton oxford, his ability to breathe halted. "Do you want me to make the most of the time I have?"

"Were you even listening to me the last time we spoke?" Remus inched his body closer, pressing his advantage, daring to hope. Sirius leaned in, bringing them closer still, lightly pressing their foreheads together. A slight quiver vibrated under Remus' fingertips; Sirius was trembling. "Sirius," whispered Remus. "I love you, and you love me. It's real, and the war is real, and-"

"Okay," rasped Sirius, overcome, a man drowning in his shame. Remus quietly exulted in vicious triumph, pushing aside for now the guilt and hint of sadness in Sirius' voice. All that mattered was he'd won - they had won - the rest could and would be dealt with later.

Remus gently pressed his mouth to Sirius' in a kiss that was barely more than the mingling of warm breath. Sirius' hands tightened, pulling them closer together, then slipped down to slide around Remus' waist. Lips parted in a sigh, tongue darting out, teasing Remus' lips, tempting him to deepen the kiss. He slipped his tongue experimentally past soft, moist lips, hands sliding up Sirius' chest, neck, filling his fingers with silky, black hair. Sirius tasted like the whiskey they had shared and was far more potent.

"Sirius." It shocked Remus to hear how hungry, how ragged he sounded.

Sirius kissed Remus again, smiling against his mouth, then took a step back, suddenly releasing Remus, save for their hands. He took another step back and smiled like sin incarnate, letting go of one hand, giving the other a gentle tug.

"C'mere, you."

Remus never imagined anything could be as arousing as Sirius' low, seductive purr. The notes dissipated on his skin, snuck into his blood, and from there made merry hell on the way to his groin. He followed the hand to the bed and was pulled down, Sirius under him wearing a leprechaun grin, their legs dangling awkwardly off the side. Sirius drew him down for a kiss with one hand, the other sliding around Remus' arse to grip firmly. Remus moaned into Sirius' mouth as hips arched up from the bed, grinding their bodies together.

"I can't wait until you tell them," confessed Remus between kisses. "I want to do this all the time."

Sirius rolled them in one swift move, now hovering over Remus, and ripped open Remus' shirt, buttons clattering against the wood floor. He leaned down to tongue Remus' nipple, his hips rolling out a torturously slow, undulating rhythm. "Tell who what?"

Remus' head fell back, mouth slack, mind and body drugged on Sirius, and following the tempo he set. "Them, ohgod, Sirius."

Sirius moved serpentine up Remus' body, bit his neck, scraping teeth down the long column of flesh. "God, I can't wait to see you come," Sirius breathed huskily, and then added, "Them who?"

Remus decided he no longer cared about the question, and grabbed Sirius' arse, wanting the friction again. He pulled them together, hard, and rutted wantonly against Sirius. He was rewarded with a rather pleased chuckle, low and throaty, then Sirius rolled his hips into Remus at that same maddening pace.

"Fuck, more," demanded Remus.

Sirius laughed and leaned down. "Them who?" he said teasingly, like it was part of a game.

Fucking tormentor, thought Remus, pressing his eyes closed. The words had fallen out of his mouth before he could stop them and was realizing belatedly he didn't want to talk about James and Lily. It was an errant, poorly timed mistake. "Never mind. It isn't important, just forget about it."

"Oh, god," said Sirius, with sickened awareness. "Oh, Remus. I'm sorry, I thought-"

Remus blinked open his eyes, confused by the sudden change in Sirius. Uncertainty was swept away by the sorrow and guilt on Sirius' face, who now couldn't even look at him, and reality came crashing in like an anvil dropped to the chest. Sirius wasn't leaving James and Lily. Remus roughly shoved Sirius off him and vaulted off the bed and across the room. Fucking miscommunication. They had each heard exactly what they wanted to. For two people who knew each other as well as they did, they were absolute shite at clearly stating what the fuck they thought was happening, when the fuck they thought it was happening to them.

"I'm very tired," he said. "I think I'd like to be alone, now."

"I do love you, Remus."

"Stop talking," said Remus sharply. He wasn't going to be able to stand on his feet for much longer. "You need to leave."

For a moment nothing happened. All Remus could hear was Sirius breathing and the bed squeak. Had it been squeaking all along? Funny he hadn't noticed. Funny what his mind would cling to when the world was falling apart. Sirius finally spoke. "I've got to give a report to Dumbledore," he said quietly. "But, I'm coming back, just in case you need anything."

"Just go."

Remus didn't watch Sirius leave. When he heard the door click shut he stripped and got into the shower. Sirius' scent was all over him. He would go mad if he couldn't get it off. The water rushed over him, just the hot water tap, scalding his skin, an exchange of one pain for another, at least temporarily. He lathered himself three times before he was satisfied. His mind was a fog of pain as he slid under the covers.

Sirius' scent was all over the bed. Fuck.

Thank god he still had the whiskey.

It was about an hour before the dawn when he woke up, slightly hung over from having to drink himself to sleep. True to his word, Sirius had returned. He was sprawled on top of the covers, clad only in his pants. Remus watched him sleep, listened to him breathe, deep and slow. He pushed the covers aside and moved a little closer to Sirius. He reached out to feel Sirius' skin, but found he couldn't, so he just let his hand hover over Sirius' chest, so close to touching Remus could feel the heat radiating from Sirius' body. Remus remembered what it had been like to touch Sirius, to finally have Sirius touch him. Sirius was so beautiful and Remus wanted so much to just give in, to wake up Sirius and say he didn't care. He wanted to tell Sirius he would be his secret and they could meet clandestinely whenever they could manage it.

It took every ounce of his willpower to withdraw his hand. Ironic that it was Sirius who always said Remus didn't know what he was worth. Well, he was worth more than this. He slipped out of the bed and searched for his clothes. They weren't where he had left them; Sirius had dried, mended and folded them neatly and placed on them on the desk. Remus dressed quickly and then slipped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
Part 3