fic for maraudersaffair: Shades of Gray: Part II (Marauders, Snape, Dumbledore, PG-13)
Title: Shades of Gray (2/2)
Recipient: maraudersaffair
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language
Characters: The Marauders, Snape, Dumbledore, and some Highly Suspicious People
Author's Notes: "Remus Lupin and Sirius Black were best friends. Why, then, despite everything, did it take Remus so long to believe Sirius's innocence in Prisoner of Azkaban? It all began on a night a year before the first war, when Remus made a startling discovery…" Long, dark, plotty, and although it may be a little far-fetched, NOT an AU. Some acknowledgements: a huge thank you is owed to V.M. Bell, beta extraordinaire and Big Source Of Inspiration. And of course, a thank you to the Lexicon, who gave me the backbone of this story. To the recipient, thank you for the very challenging, intriguing prompt! I wasn't able to include everything you requested, but I hope you enjoy it all the same!
<< Part I
--
PART TWO
January 10th, 1981
It wasn’t until a cold evening in January that Snape saw Lupin again.
He was in Flourish and Blotts, indulging himself in some book buying, his voluminous black cloak wrapped securely around him with the hood concealing his face to avoid detection. While it still was not widely known he was a Death Eater, just about everyone suspected he was one, and he wanted to avoid Suspicious Glances as much as possible.
Of course, it had been high hopes, thinking that he would get through this night without anyone recognizing him, but then it could’ve been worse.
“That you, Snape?”
Had his instincts not been so highly trained, he would have exposed some sign of surprise, but his body language didn’t show any hint that he recognized the softly spoken words by his ear.
“How’d you guess, Lupin?” he commented dryly, the worst of his sarcasm apparently on holiday. Well, now was as good a time as any to see if their truce was still effective. Surely the werewolf had been in touch with Dumbledore by now.
“Why, with my heightened sense of smell and keen intellect, of course,” Lupin returned lightly, and laughing slightly continued. “Only you would go to such great lengths to keep yourself covered in such a place as Flourish and Blotts.”
“Maybe you should go spy, Lupin. Your powers of observation are infallible,” Severus remarked, pretending to be reading the book spread open in his hands even though he’d been staring at the same word for the past five minutes.
Lupin let out another low chuckle before a grave expression overtook his face. “I’ve spoken with Dumbledore, Snape, as I’m sure you guessed, and while there are still questions I’d like to ask, I think I believe you. But if I have any proof that you’ve been fucking with me this entire time, I’ll make sure that I’ll actually bite you if I encounter you again in my werewolf form.”
“I’ll certainly take that into consideration,” Severus said, shooting Lupin a sideways glance. The man was casually perusing the book titles, not even looking at him. There weren’t that many people in the store at this hour, but still, someone could always be watching.
And speaking of watching…
Severus suddenly felt a pair of eyes on him, but as he managed to look around their part of the store without actually turning his head much, he saw no one expect one middle-aged woman who was thoroughly engrossed in the pages of a book a few rows down.
“What is it?” Lupin murmured, sensing Snape’s unease.
“I just felt-“
“Like someone was watching us?” Lupin interrupted.
“Well, yes, but there’s no one in here who would be at the moment.” Still, the feeling of disquiet stayed wrapped around him as securely as the cloak he was wearing.
“Probably just your inherent sense of paranoia. You might even have old Mad-Eye beat,” Lupin remarked, pulling a book from the top shelf.
There was a pregnant pause.
Then finally Lupin said, “Perhaps we should leave?”
“If there is someone hiding somewhere, that would make it all too obvious. But-there is something I’d like to talk to you about, that You-Know-Who talked about at the last You-Know-What.”
Severus was probably being overly cautious, but there was no point in revealing too much. The feeling had still not gone away.
“Do you want to go to the You-Know-Where? No one’s there,” Lupin said, picking up Snape’s code, voice barely audible. If someone were looking at them from the back, they wouldn’t even be able to see they were talking unless they had incredibly acute hearing.
“You leave first,” Snape hissed. “I’ll follow shortly.”
Saying nothing with his words or body, Lupin calmly placed his book on the shelf and strode out of the store.
A good twenty minutes later, Severus followed and promptly Disapparated to Headquarters.
--
Once Snape arrived, Remus turned to face him, saying, “Before you tell me what you want to say, I did feel it too. But I have no idea who it could be.”
He was as baffled about this whole thing as Snape was and was just as far from a possible answer.
“There are spies everywhere,” Snape commented, “but what I wanted to say to you isn’t really related. It’s more of a warning, actually.”
Remus resisted the urge to shower the man with questions and stood as patiently as possible.
“I’m sure Dumbledore has told you what he knows of the Prophecy,” Snape continued, and at Remus’s nod, went on. “The Dark Lord has been trying very hard to figure out who this child will be…”
Suddenly, Remus’s eyes went wide as he remembered the last of the Prophecy. Born as the seventh month dies…
The revelation shocked him so much that he had to sit down and wondered how none of them had picked up on this. Well, maybe, Dumbledore already had and wished to keep it to himself, not wanting to add to the worries of the Prophecy. Everyone just knew that Lily was pregnant-she hadn’t told anyone the actual month except for the Marauders…
“Lily gave birth to Harry last July,” Remus managed, words strangled.
“So did Alice Longbottom,” was all Snape said, and Remus couldn’t help but wonder how he knew that. That affirmed his suspicions that Dumbledore had known all along.
Damn the Great Manipulator!
“Now, he hasn’t focused in on anyone yet,” Snape continued, “and I don’t even think he’s aware that Potter’s or Longbottom’s wives are pregnant at this point. But he will be soon, and while it will take him time to decide who needs to be eliminated, he will act quickly on his choice once he does. Even I at this point cannot say who he will choose, seeing as how the Potters and the Longbottom’s have done much for the Order.”
Remus had blanched considerably, and he proceeded to stuff his hands in his lap so Snape couldn’t see how they were shaking.
“What is being done about this?” he whispered, entirely horrified at what the future now held for them. So many innocents…
“Well, right now, Black ,” sneered Snape, “is the Potters’ Secret Keeper, as you are obviously aware, although I don’t know what the hell people were thinking when that decision was made.”
Remus felt his inherent loyalty to his friends ruffle in indignation. “What is that supposed to mean? You know very well Sirius is not working for You-Know-Who!”
Snape scoffed. “Please. Black is far too much of a Gryffindor, and I have a good feeling that while he might see the importance of such a thing as a Secret Keeper, his natural recklessness will cause him to not take his job as seriously as he should.”
Remus was on his feet now. “He will guard James, Lily, and their child with his life!”
“Come now, Lupin,” Snape said, the sneer more pronounced now, “can’t you remember another time when Black revealed a secret of a friend he was supposed to be protecting?”
“Come now, Snape, ” Remus mimicked, beginning to get annoyed, “you know very well Sirius said all that to get at you.”
“Of course, how could I forget?” Snape snapped back, as irritated as he was, “but he seemed to have forgotten you in the process! Do you know how much trouble everyone would have been in if you had actually bitten me?”
Remus paled. All right, so maybe the Death-Eater-Turned-Spy did have a point. But… “This is entirely different!”
Snape gave him a calculating look, and Remus resisted the urge to shudder, as it seemed the other man’s eyes were piercing right through him. “Is it really, Lupin?” Snape asked, voice soft. “Black always did love his alcohol. One slip of the tongue, one wrong move…”
“No. No, Sirius would never do that.”
But beneath the confidence of his words, a Thin Thread Of Doubt was weaving itself through his thoughts. Yet he has…and he never meant to hurt you either…and afterwards, when you didn’t speak to him for weeks, all he said was that he hadn’t been thinking…and he was trying not to, but now he could see it unfolding before him…
The silence dragged on, and when it became clear that Remus had no intentions of betraying his thoughts to Snape, the wizard said calmly, “Well. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
March 13th, 1981
Let’s correspond through letters from now on-we’ll still have to be secretive, but it will be a little less obvious than meeting in person.
That works for me-and before I forget-I made the most interesting discovery one day that might make our job a little easier…
Oh, that bloody bastard! But I definitely agree. This could help us in ways I haven’t even foreseen. Try to observe them more if you can, and now that I’m aware of it I will too. I can feel our moment getting closer! If only the Dark Lord will tell us more…
May 30th, 1981
“No, no, and no,” Severus protested, ensconced in a chair in Dumbledore’s office, wondering, and not for the first time, if the man was really as senile as he liked people to believe.
Dumbledore just twinkled at him, leaving Severus with a desire to see if he could pull the blasted thing out of his eyes. “Come now, Severus…what better place could you be?”
“Have you completely lost your mind? I’m a Death Eater, Dumbledore, in case you’ve forgotten! Death Eaters don’t teach children!”
“That is a minor detail, but I’m sure we can work around that,” Dumbledore said, as though he were speaking of something casual like the weather.
Severus made an exasperated noise, wondering what the hell Dumbledore was thinking, springing something like this on him. Teaching Potions? To children aged eleven to a couple years younger than he was? Ludicrous! He was so upset he refused to answer.
Finally sighing, Dumbledore said softly, “Really, Severus, it does make the most sense. You would be close to me, and you could simply tell Voldemort-” Severus flinched at the name “ - that it would be easier for you to spy on Hogwarts here and all the goings on, and that I don’t suspect a thing…besides, you know as well as I that there is someone on our side passing information, and this would put you in a greater position to help me out in that quarter as well.”
“Only, I would have to make it sound like it was his idea,” Severus said, and then groaned as another thought struck him, the thought of it so painful that he let his head fall into his hands. “What if I get called during class?”
“Then I will cover for you, you know that. And you also know I’ve asked you to call me Albus.”
Severus sighed, the familiar feeling of guilt returning whenever he was around Dumbledore for extended periods of time. It was nothing against the old man: it was just that using his first name would make this more personal, and if something were to happen to the older wizard… “Alright Dum-Albus. I’ll do my best.”
“So do you want that job?”
Severus sighed again. He knew he needed the money, and the free room and board wouldn’t hurt. He could support himself only so far by marketing some of his potions, but his place on Spinner’s End really was a depressing shack, practically uninhabitable for now. There was hardly even room for a decent potions lab, and he ended up brewing most of his potions after Death Eater meetings. He supposed, if he wanted, he could just use some magic to fix it up, but that would take time, and that was one thing he did not have.
But getting in front of rows of children, and actually trying to talk to them and teach them? What kind of model would he be? This is Severus, everyone, what you do not want to be like when you grow up. His old insecurities started to flood back, and before he could help himself, he’d blurted out, “No one will like me!”
Dumbledore merely gave him an encouraging smile. “Nonsense, Severus, you’ll have that class under control in minutes. I would trust no one else to do such a thorough job-you’re one of the most qualified Potions Masters in Britain.”
That was by far the biggest compliment he’d been paid in ages, but he treated it as he did all praise-he ducked his head and avoided it. “Well, then…I suppose I’ll try it out for a year and see what happens. I’m sure I can get the Dark Lord to come around.”
Dumbledore beamed at him. “Oh, I knew I could count on you. Lemon drop?” he offered, holding the bowl out to him.
He usually didn’t take lemon drops, but he had the odd feeling that he’d somehow be letting Dum-Albus down if he didn’t. “All right, thank you…Albus.”
Maybe he would finally not have to be so lonely anymore, although he supposed there was Lupin…
At some point, Severus was going to have to thank Lupin in his own way for his efforts.
August 20th, 1981
I think Snape is really on the Light side now. I had the chance to hear a most interesting conversation between him and that stupid fool…
What! Impossible. Well, maybe we won’t have to tell the Dark Lord just yet-we could get this to work for us first.
What do you want me to do?
I imagine you’ll have your chance soon, but whatever you do, do NOT present this as your idea. Wait for someone else and then do your usual routine. I can’t have you fuck this up.
Oh, I won’t! I can be quite convincing…
October 24th, 1981
“The Potters are in danger, Lupin-he’s convinced himself that the Prophecy is referring to their child instead of the Longbottoms’ son. I do not know how he came to that decision-” Mercifully, he did not mention Sirius again “ - but he has, and now there is nothing to be done. While he hasn’t revealed his plans in their entirety, it would be like him to have woven the night of Halloween into his plotting. Still, I cannot know for sure, and most likely will not until the night before at best,” Snape let out, face covered in its usual impassive mask.
“Oh, sweet Godric,” Remus murmured, clutching his chest with his hand, leaning on the kitchen table for support. He wondered, and not for the first time, how Snape managed to appear so detached from all this. It was absolutely frightening, almost inhuman, the way he cleaned all emotion from his face at will.
“Something must be done. I would have them moved, but then the Dark Lord would know there was a spy in his ranks and I cannot risk detection at this point. So they must stay. But we must do something else, something to thwart the Dark Lord without making my aid obvious.”
Regaining composure, Remus said swiftly, “Yes, yes of course. You go to Albus-I shall be there shortly.”
Nodding briskly, Snape Disapparated with a crack, and it was only after he had been gone a few moments when Remus allowed his trembling to show as he grasped the table even tighter, his knuckles turning white.
--
There was an impromptu Order meeting immediately after they spoke with Albus, and Remus found himself dreading it.
What could possibly be done by this point? He wished he could say that he was certain of Sirius’s innocence, however accidental any revealing of information might have been. There had been a reason no one had mentioned Lily’s due date-the Potters had been openly provoking You-Know-Who for at least the past year, and any child of theirs would have been susceptible to the scheming dark wizard.
Aberforth’s house was packed with wizards everywhere, and the panicked noise was only adding to Remus’ anxiety.
“Silence, everyone, please!” Albus cried, clapping his hands once.
The Order’s respect for their leader was so vast that they ceased to talk at once, and their air around them trembled with everyone’s fear. Spontaneous Order meetings were never a good sign and always meant Something Bad.
“We do not have much time,” Albus said, words tight with urgency, “so I will get straight to the point. Voldemort has named the unknown in the Prophecy.”
There were gasps all around as people shot nervous glances toward Frank and James. Remus put a supporting hand on James’ shoulder as he felt his friend stiffen beside him, and he couldn’t resist a glance in Sirius’s direction. Yet his face remained empty of anything that might have resembled guilt.
“I am so sorry James,” Albus said, face grave, “but he has determined it will be Harry.”
James blanched, and a silence thick as fog descended on all assembled as they digested the information.
Mad-Eye was the first to break it as he called out, “I assume our so-called informant told you this, Albus?”
Remus couldn’t help it-he cringed. He was aware of James’s eyes sliding to him questioningly, but Remus ignored them and remained fixed on Albus as he answered calmly, “Yes, he did.”
“How do you know he isn’t misleading us?” Mad-Eye demanded, and Remus bit back a groan. Attacks like these were launched whenever Snape was brought up.
“I would trust him with my life, as you very well know, Alastor, and if you trust me, you would do the same,” Albus said calmly, voice sharp as cut glass.
Thank Merlin Mad-Eye doesn’t know it’s Snape, Remus thought, as Mad-Eye muttered something that sounded suspiciously like Constant Vigilance.
The whispering had started again, and Remus could pick out:
“-could trust him better if we knew him-” (Doubtful Hestia.)
“-once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater, they don’t know how to reform-” (Judgmental Sirius.)
“-he’s never lead us astray-” (Reasonable Frank.)
Albus held up a hand, and it immediately claimed respect. “Thank you. I understand your reservations, but please, all these accusations will get us nowhere if we want to work together to thwart Voldemort. First things first-the Potters need a Secret Keeper. Who would you recommend, James?” Albus asked, giving the man a sympathetic glance. Remus tightened his hand on his friend’s shoulder.
James’s eyes were hard as granite. “That bastard’s not getting my son. I don’t care what happens to me, I’ll kill him myself if I have to-and I want Sirius to be Keeper.”
Everyone’s eyes turned to Sirius, and Remus couldn’t help but wonder if this was really a good idea. But then, Sirius nodded, his eyes locked with James’s. “Sure, James. Sure, I’ll be your Keeper.”
James gave a curt nod of approval, his uncharacteristically jerky motions betraying how upset and angry he was. Merlin, Remus thought, we could all take some lessons from Snape. We’re going to be free food for You-Know-Who if we display our hearts on menus all the time…
Albus gave Sirius a hard look, and then went on, “Now, there are a few other things that need to be discussed before we have to perform the Fidelious Charm…”
October 30th, 1981
“Perhaps it’s getting to be too late and there’s no point in bringing this matter up again, but it occurred to me earlier today that having Sirius be the Secret Keeper wasn’t such a good idea.”
The four of them were having a night out in Headquarters, Lily declining to come because baby Harry had completely drained her and she needed some extra rest. Sirius had just finished telling a crude joke, and James’s sudden diversion to seriousness took them all by surprise.
Remus stared at him, but James’s distant expression and furrowed brows were an indication that he was clearly still inside himself and was momentarily ignoring everything but his thoughts.
Sirius looked especially startled, and maybe even a little hurt. “James?”
“It’s really nothing against you at all Sirius, you know that,” James said, voice small. “But…I was just thinking that…well that you’d be the first person You-Know-Who would pick on. Everyone knows you’re my best friend, and he more than likely knows you’re the Secret Keeper…”
Remus blinked. It made sense, and he wondered why someone hadn’t mentioned it at the meeting. Peter said nothing.
“I would rather it be Remus-we could make the switch by ourselves so it would not be public knowledge, and we’d be better able to thwart You-Know-Who,” reasoned James, turning his intense brown eyes to Remus, who didn’t know what to think.
Me, Secret Keeper?
Sirius had leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head. “Alright, James, I see what you’re thinking. But, if we follow your logic completely, wouldn’t Peter here make a better choice?”
Peter’s head shot up and an eager light shined in his eyes. James’s eyes bulged and he sputtered, “PETER?”
Surprisingly, it was Peter, not Sirius, who answered. “Well, it does make sense you know. I mean, I’m the least person he’ll expect, because no one ever does suspect me. I was never as smart as you three.”
Finally James sighed. “Well then, that does make sense I can see that now. But you better not fuck this up Peter or I’m warning you-I don’t care if we are friends. You’ll wish you’d never been born.”
Remus didn’t know what to think now, but he was privately glad Sirius was no longer in a position to betray the Potters, no matter how accidentally it would have been.
James stood, and all the others followed suit. “Let’s do this now, there will be no need to get Albus. I do not want anyone else but us knowing we’ve done this.”
--
The whole ordeal had been exhausting, and Remus was glad to get back to the emptiness of Headquarters.
Now that he finally had Peace And Quiet, Remus allowed himself to sag against the kitchen table, all the anxieties of the day turning into weariness.
It was then, though, that his gaze dropped to the floor, and he saw a crumpled up piece of parchment lying haphazardly on the floor, as though it had fallen out of someone’s pocket.
Bending down to pick it up, his blood went cold as the words stared up at him.
Things going as planned-the Stupid Fools will never know what hit them.
But it was the signature that chilled him to the bone.
Padfoot.
Remus stared at it, willing himself to have faith in his friend, pushing Snape’s taunting told you so out of his mind.
But he couldn’t help it.
Was that why Sirius had been so eager to make Peter Secret Keeper, giving him more ability to reveal the Potters’ house? Or was it for other motives altogether…
Stop this, Remus. Use your head first before making conclusions with your heart.
There was a way to find out the real writer of a letter, and, he raised his wand, muttered the incantation and was in for more of a shock when the name revealed itself.
No…it can’t be…how is this possible? Surely we would’ve known…
He was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost missed the sound of Apparition-apparently, the letter had a spell or two woven in it, and he should have picked up on that, should’ve known the writer wanted him to find it…
Now, right when he thought he’d had it somewhat figured out, none of this made sense at all…
Remus turned quickly, the letter squeezed desperately in his sweaty palms.
“You!” he accused, numb with denial and shock, as he struggled to believe what was in front of him.
Aberforth Dumbledore, brother of Albus, and supposed supporter of the Light. Only, now, he was wearing a sneer that would make Severus proud and had his wand pointed at Remus, and before Remus could react, had him in a body bind before he could blink.
“To think how easy all this was,” Aberforth sneered, “you so-called ‘good’ people are so damn trusting, but I swear you only see in two colors, black and white. Don’t you know that there are all sorts of shades of gray in between?”
There were many things Remus wanted to say, many things he wanted to ask, but his powers of articulation had failed him at the moment and all he could manage was a strangled, “Why?”
“My dear Remus,” Aberforth said, in a tone of voice that suggested he thought Remus to be as dear as-well, Remus would have said a Death Eater, but it really was the opposite now, wasn’t it? “You really should learn how to be more specific. You could be asking me why I think the sky is blue, or why I wrote that letter, or…but seeing as how things are, I won’t require you to elaborate your question. You see, Remus, you lot made your first mistake when you chose to underestimate Peter.”
Remus’ eyes blew up like balloons and just about popped right out of his head. First Aberforth, then…PETER?
Little chubby Peter Pettigrew, who could only think intelligently on his stomach’s behalf? Who could barely get out his own name without his tongue tripping over it? Who did a good impersonation of a tunnel when he repeated their words and arguments?
But, then, Remus thought, as reliable reason chased after the panicked disbelief, he had been acting rather funny over the past year, and maybe even longer than that. The way he had taken to wearing long sleeves even during summer, the way he would always grimace slightly when he would inform them he had to leave suddenly, the way he would clutch at and scratch his left arm when he thought no one was looking…
And none of them had noticed, none of them had asked. One time after another of Peter’s strange departures, Sirius had even joked that he was probably hungry again and was just too embarrassed to ask for food since they’d just eaten about an hour ago. They had all laughed heartily, but they had never, never thought to discuss the number of times Peter would leave them, had never once thought that Peter deserved a suspicious glance.
Yet Remus could not help but wonder how much of a role Aberforth had played in Peter’s betrayal, if Aberforth had been the one to plant the seeds of discord in his mind and watered them with his own darkness.
But at least Sirius had nothing to do with this after all.
As if he were reading Remus’ mind, Aberforth commented casually, as though he were merely speaking of the weather, “He never felt like he truly belonged with you lot, felt he was like an embarrassing piece of clothing bought by a parent and then shoved in a closet, to be taken out only because of a sense of obligation. The basic ingredients were there…I simply mixed them about a little.”
“And I suppose You-Know-Who helped pick the target?” Remus spat, the shock erupting into pulsing anger, feeling helpless in his body bind, wishing not for the first time that he’d had someone else at Headquarters with him. But nothing in his wildest dreams could have prepared him for this. He was still wrapping his mind around what was before him, that Aberforth had helped encourage Peter to leave them, that Peter had even left them in the first place, that rumored-to-be-omniscient Albus had failed to see this - in his own brother, no less!
“Oh, I will not deny that it was his idea,” Aberforth said smugly, “but this is my masterpiece, not his. Even he had not foreseen that it would work as well as it did, that the characters would unknowingly do his bidding. Your accidental camaraderie with Snape was an added bonus.”
Remus stared, not seeing how the Death Eater spy was of any importance to this particular turn of events. “Snape?”
“Ah, yes. In case you hadn’t noticed, he has a Grudge against you lot the size of an iceberg, especially against Black. The Dark Lord has never completely trusted him despite his high rank, which was the main reason that when Pettigrew and I were summoned, we were kept away from the actual meetings, so you see, he never had any idea that we were even involved.”
Remus wanted to know how Aberforth knew about that, and then remembered the feeling that he was being watched when he’d run into Snape that day, that day which now seemed to be eons ago. He hadn’t seen anyone, but now it all made sense: it must’ve been Peter in his Animagus form, who had seen him talk with Snape in a moderately amicable manner.
It had been Snape who didn’t trust Sirius, Snape who loathed Sirius with a passion, and Snape who was trying to convince Remus that Sirius’ recklessness would put them all at risk. When, in actuality, it had been Peter…
Oh, sweet Merlin.
Everything had finally clicked into place.
“So it was you who gave Peter the idea to make him the Secret Keeper. Sirius may have suggested it, but he seemed to eager about the whole thing. And, even if we did misjudge him, Peter was never that cunning,” Remus said, words laced with horror, speaking more to himself than Aberforth.
“Yes, that was one of my more brilliant ideas,” Aberforth said, his ego swelling up to the size of America. “And the letter was the icing on the cake.”
“I can’t believe I even thought for a second that Sirius had written that letter,” Remus whispered, realizing the extent to which Snape had colored his view of his friend without him even noticing. “Please, Aberforth,” Remus said desperately, knowing this was a hopeless fight but needing to say something, “you don’t have to do this. There is always a choice-”
The wizard laughed harshly, the sound as twisted as the look on his face. “Oh, my good, foolish Remus. This has been in the works for years-there is no going back now, and I never had any intention of following any other path. No one, not even Snape, was smart enough to see this coming, but I couldn’t let our grand masterpiece go unnoticed. We needed to let someone know, and who else but you?”
Remus gritted his teeth, and his eyes were hard as granite. “Why me?”
“Because, my friend,” Aberforth mocked, friend dripping with sarcastic sweetness, “you will be the only one left. And, in the end, you won’t even remember how it all came to be, and your mind will be tortured until the end of your days!”
This, Remus thought, expression overcast with grim realization, was the worst sort of predicament, to be able to know what is going to happen but be powerless to stop it. He felt like he was reading a book, following a plot knowing what the outcome would be for its characters, but being unable to help them. Except he was the protagonist, and he couldn’t even help himself.
Aberforth was looking at him expectantly, but Remus wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of any dramatic last words, his eyes haunted with the repercussions of you will be the only one left.
And, as suddenly as everything began, it ended with a flick of a wand and “Obliviate! ”
A triumphant laugh, black as a shadow, was the last thing Remus was aware of as his mind was paved in white.
November 2nd, 1981
Even the best-laid plans could have a surprising ending, and this masterpiece was no different.
In all their calculations, Aberforth and Peter had not counted on the Dark Lord’s disappearance. Yes, Aberforth chose to call it a disappearance, not a death.
The Wizarding world was full of more fools than he thought if they all believed a little baby, one so little he couldn’t even form words, could kill someone as powerful as his Lord. Oh no, he definitely was not dead. He was simply biding his time, would wait long enough until everyone was certain he wasn’t coming back.
Until then, Aberforth would just have to continue acting. He’d been playing his role so well that he’d hidden his deception from everyone, and he could keep on doing so. His only worry was that the werewolf might regain some of his memory back, but if that time came, no one would believe the man anyway.
Remus Lupin, the centerpiece of his and Peter’s work of art.
James and Lily Potter were dead. Sirius Black was in prison. Peter was Merlin knew where, probably masquerading somewhere as a rat, but proclaimed to be a hero.
This was what the world knew.
Yet Aberforth had manipulated the memory charm to give Lupin the feeling that Black was innocent, and that Peter was the traitor, so that he could by tormented by the truth that only he knew until Black rotted away.
But that was all it was-a feeling. A feeling was hard to prove without solid evidence, and seeing as how there was none, Aberforth felt certain that Lupin had had enough of trusting his heart and soon, the feeling would become nothing more than a thin wisp of memory.
Epilogue: The Last Marauder
November 4th, 1981
Alone.
The word haunted Remus Lupin day and night, night and day, followed shortly after by if only. The hardest part was thinking in past tense. To him, James and Lily Potter were still as alive to him as ever, and each time he felt himself thinking James is or Lily is left a gaping wound in his heart when he realized his error with tense. Was.
The only thing he would say was James and Lily are dead. But the word that came after made the present tense even more painful.
Dead. Dead, dead, dead…
He stood staring at their gravestones, but no matter of reading and rereading the dates inscribed made the situation any more real.
When people grieved, they tended to think irrationally, and that was the direction where Remus was going. Snape was the spy, wasn’t he? Why hadn’t he been able to see what You-Know-Who had been planning, why hadn’t You-Know-Who confided everything to him if Snape were so trusted?
If only he hadn’t let Snape convince him that Sirius was working in tandem with You-Know-Who.
If only he weren’t so easily influenced by others.
If only he hadn’t let himself be persuaded of Sirius’s “turn” by Snape.
If only he’d murdered Snape when he had the chance that cold, wet July night.
If only they’d switched Secret Keepers…
Yet that was little comfort as the rest of the Mocking Words danced in front of his eyes, tormenting him. Well, he knew one thing. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice, and right now, he didn’t care if Albus trusted Snape. He hoped he never saw the man again. Somewhere lodged in his heart, he knew that he wasn’t being rational, that Snape had done a lot for the Order.
But it was what he hadn’t done that angered Remus. If he’d been doing so much already, why hadn’t he found the traitor?
And why hadn’t he tried more to turn You-Know-Who away from the Potters?
And why was he still trying to trust his heart, his heart that was telling him Sirius was innocent of Peter’s murder, when his head was telling him otherwise?
Sirius had been Secret Keeper. They had not switched. There was the proof of his guilt. He’d made the mistake of trusting his heart one too many times-surely he’d learned by now never to do that again?
His knees started to weaken, and he felt himself begin to thaw. He sank to the ground of the cemetery in Godric’s Hollow, and for the first time since that dreadful night, he broke down and sobbed.
And far away, on a doorstep on Private Drive, a baby boy with a lightening bolt scar on his forehead unknowingly echoed Remus’s grief as he burst into tears.
MISCHIEF MANAGED
Recipient: maraudersaffair
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language
Characters: The Marauders, Snape, Dumbledore, and some Highly Suspicious People
Author's Notes: "Remus Lupin and Sirius Black were best friends. Why, then, despite everything, did it take Remus so long to believe Sirius's innocence in Prisoner of Azkaban? It all began on a night a year before the first war, when Remus made a startling discovery…" Long, dark, plotty, and although it may be a little far-fetched, NOT an AU. Some acknowledgements: a huge thank you is owed to V.M. Bell, beta extraordinaire and Big Source Of Inspiration. And of course, a thank you to the Lexicon, who gave me the backbone of this story. To the recipient, thank you for the very challenging, intriguing prompt! I wasn't able to include everything you requested, but I hope you enjoy it all the same!
<< Part I
--
PART TWO
January 10th, 1981
It wasn’t until a cold evening in January that Snape saw Lupin again.
He was in Flourish and Blotts, indulging himself in some book buying, his voluminous black cloak wrapped securely around him with the hood concealing his face to avoid detection. While it still was not widely known he was a Death Eater, just about everyone suspected he was one, and he wanted to avoid Suspicious Glances as much as possible.
Of course, it had been high hopes, thinking that he would get through this night without anyone recognizing him, but then it could’ve been worse.
“That you, Snape?”
Had his instincts not been so highly trained, he would have exposed some sign of surprise, but his body language didn’t show any hint that he recognized the softly spoken words by his ear.
“How’d you guess, Lupin?” he commented dryly, the worst of his sarcasm apparently on holiday. Well, now was as good a time as any to see if their truce was still effective. Surely the werewolf had been in touch with Dumbledore by now.
“Why, with my heightened sense of smell and keen intellect, of course,” Lupin returned lightly, and laughing slightly continued. “Only you would go to such great lengths to keep yourself covered in such a place as Flourish and Blotts.”
“Maybe you should go spy, Lupin. Your powers of observation are infallible,” Severus remarked, pretending to be reading the book spread open in his hands even though he’d been staring at the same word for the past five minutes.
Lupin let out another low chuckle before a grave expression overtook his face. “I’ve spoken with Dumbledore, Snape, as I’m sure you guessed, and while there are still questions I’d like to ask, I think I believe you. But if I have any proof that you’ve been fucking with me this entire time, I’ll make sure that I’ll actually bite you if I encounter you again in my werewolf form.”
“I’ll certainly take that into consideration,” Severus said, shooting Lupin a sideways glance. The man was casually perusing the book titles, not even looking at him. There weren’t that many people in the store at this hour, but still, someone could always be watching.
And speaking of watching…
Severus suddenly felt a pair of eyes on him, but as he managed to look around their part of the store without actually turning his head much, he saw no one expect one middle-aged woman who was thoroughly engrossed in the pages of a book a few rows down.
“What is it?” Lupin murmured, sensing Snape’s unease.
“I just felt-“
“Like someone was watching us?” Lupin interrupted.
“Well, yes, but there’s no one in here who would be at the moment.” Still, the feeling of disquiet stayed wrapped around him as securely as the cloak he was wearing.
“Probably just your inherent sense of paranoia. You might even have old Mad-Eye beat,” Lupin remarked, pulling a book from the top shelf.
There was a pregnant pause.
Then finally Lupin said, “Perhaps we should leave?”
“If there is someone hiding somewhere, that would make it all too obvious. But-there is something I’d like to talk to you about, that You-Know-Who talked about at the last You-Know-What.”
Severus was probably being overly cautious, but there was no point in revealing too much. The feeling had still not gone away.
“Do you want to go to the You-Know-Where? No one’s there,” Lupin said, picking up Snape’s code, voice barely audible. If someone were looking at them from the back, they wouldn’t even be able to see they were talking unless they had incredibly acute hearing.
“You leave first,” Snape hissed. “I’ll follow shortly.”
Saying nothing with his words or body, Lupin calmly placed his book on the shelf and strode out of the store.
A good twenty minutes later, Severus followed and promptly Disapparated to Headquarters.
--
Once Snape arrived, Remus turned to face him, saying, “Before you tell me what you want to say, I did feel it too. But I have no idea who it could be.”
He was as baffled about this whole thing as Snape was and was just as far from a possible answer.
“There are spies everywhere,” Snape commented, “but what I wanted to say to you isn’t really related. It’s more of a warning, actually.”
Remus resisted the urge to shower the man with questions and stood as patiently as possible.
“I’m sure Dumbledore has told you what he knows of the Prophecy,” Snape continued, and at Remus’s nod, went on. “The Dark Lord has been trying very hard to figure out who this child will be…”
Suddenly, Remus’s eyes went wide as he remembered the last of the Prophecy. Born as the seventh month dies…
The revelation shocked him so much that he had to sit down and wondered how none of them had picked up on this. Well, maybe, Dumbledore already had and wished to keep it to himself, not wanting to add to the worries of the Prophecy. Everyone just knew that Lily was pregnant-she hadn’t told anyone the actual month except for the Marauders…
“Lily gave birth to Harry last July,” Remus managed, words strangled.
“So did Alice Longbottom,” was all Snape said, and Remus couldn’t help but wonder how he knew that. That affirmed his suspicions that Dumbledore had known all along.
Damn the Great Manipulator!
“Now, he hasn’t focused in on anyone yet,” Snape continued, “and I don’t even think he’s aware that Potter’s or Longbottom’s wives are pregnant at this point. But he will be soon, and while it will take him time to decide who needs to be eliminated, he will act quickly on his choice once he does. Even I at this point cannot say who he will choose, seeing as how the Potters and the Longbottom’s have done much for the Order.”
Remus had blanched considerably, and he proceeded to stuff his hands in his lap so Snape couldn’t see how they were shaking.
“What is being done about this?” he whispered, entirely horrified at what the future now held for them. So many innocents…
“Well, right now, Black ,” sneered Snape, “is the Potters’ Secret Keeper, as you are obviously aware, although I don’t know what the hell people were thinking when that decision was made.”
Remus felt his inherent loyalty to his friends ruffle in indignation. “What is that supposed to mean? You know very well Sirius is not working for You-Know-Who!”
Snape scoffed. “Please. Black is far too much of a Gryffindor, and I have a good feeling that while he might see the importance of such a thing as a Secret Keeper, his natural recklessness will cause him to not take his job as seriously as he should.”
Remus was on his feet now. “He will guard James, Lily, and their child with his life!”
“Come now, Lupin,” Snape said, the sneer more pronounced now, “can’t you remember another time when Black revealed a secret of a friend he was supposed to be protecting?”
“Come now, Snape, ” Remus mimicked, beginning to get annoyed, “you know very well Sirius said all that to get at you.”
“Of course, how could I forget?” Snape snapped back, as irritated as he was, “but he seemed to have forgotten you in the process! Do you know how much trouble everyone would have been in if you had actually bitten me?”
Remus paled. All right, so maybe the Death-Eater-Turned-Spy did have a point. But… “This is entirely different!”
Snape gave him a calculating look, and Remus resisted the urge to shudder, as it seemed the other man’s eyes were piercing right through him. “Is it really, Lupin?” Snape asked, voice soft. “Black always did love his alcohol. One slip of the tongue, one wrong move…”
“No. No, Sirius would never do that.”
But beneath the confidence of his words, a Thin Thread Of Doubt was weaving itself through his thoughts. Yet he has…and he never meant to hurt you either…and afterwards, when you didn’t speak to him for weeks, all he said was that he hadn’t been thinking…and he was trying not to, but now he could see it unfolding before him…
The silence dragged on, and when it became clear that Remus had no intentions of betraying his thoughts to Snape, the wizard said calmly, “Well. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
March 13th, 1981
Let’s correspond through letters from now on-we’ll still have to be secretive, but it will be a little less obvious than meeting in person.
That works for me-and before I forget-I made the most interesting discovery one day that might make our job a little easier…
Oh, that bloody bastard! But I definitely agree. This could help us in ways I haven’t even foreseen. Try to observe them more if you can, and now that I’m aware of it I will too. I can feel our moment getting closer! If only the Dark Lord will tell us more…
May 30th, 1981
“No, no, and no,” Severus protested, ensconced in a chair in Dumbledore’s office, wondering, and not for the first time, if the man was really as senile as he liked people to believe.
Dumbledore just twinkled at him, leaving Severus with a desire to see if he could pull the blasted thing out of his eyes. “Come now, Severus…what better place could you be?”
“Have you completely lost your mind? I’m a Death Eater, Dumbledore, in case you’ve forgotten! Death Eaters don’t teach children!”
“That is a minor detail, but I’m sure we can work around that,” Dumbledore said, as though he were speaking of something casual like the weather.
Severus made an exasperated noise, wondering what the hell Dumbledore was thinking, springing something like this on him. Teaching Potions? To children aged eleven to a couple years younger than he was? Ludicrous! He was so upset he refused to answer.
Finally sighing, Dumbledore said softly, “Really, Severus, it does make the most sense. You would be close to me, and you could simply tell Voldemort-” Severus flinched at the name “ - that it would be easier for you to spy on Hogwarts here and all the goings on, and that I don’t suspect a thing…besides, you know as well as I that there is someone on our side passing information, and this would put you in a greater position to help me out in that quarter as well.”
“Only, I would have to make it sound like it was his idea,” Severus said, and then groaned as another thought struck him, the thought of it so painful that he let his head fall into his hands. “What if I get called during class?”
“Then I will cover for you, you know that. And you also know I’ve asked you to call me Albus.”
Severus sighed, the familiar feeling of guilt returning whenever he was around Dumbledore for extended periods of time. It was nothing against the old man: it was just that using his first name would make this more personal, and if something were to happen to the older wizard… “Alright Dum-Albus. I’ll do my best.”
“So do you want that job?”
Severus sighed again. He knew he needed the money, and the free room and board wouldn’t hurt. He could support himself only so far by marketing some of his potions, but his place on Spinner’s End really was a depressing shack, practically uninhabitable for now. There was hardly even room for a decent potions lab, and he ended up brewing most of his potions after Death Eater meetings. He supposed, if he wanted, he could just use some magic to fix it up, but that would take time, and that was one thing he did not have.
But getting in front of rows of children, and actually trying to talk to them and teach them? What kind of model would he be? This is Severus, everyone, what you do not want to be like when you grow up. His old insecurities started to flood back, and before he could help himself, he’d blurted out, “No one will like me!”
Dumbledore merely gave him an encouraging smile. “Nonsense, Severus, you’ll have that class under control in minutes. I would trust no one else to do such a thorough job-you’re one of the most qualified Potions Masters in Britain.”
That was by far the biggest compliment he’d been paid in ages, but he treated it as he did all praise-he ducked his head and avoided it. “Well, then…I suppose I’ll try it out for a year and see what happens. I’m sure I can get the Dark Lord to come around.”
Dumbledore beamed at him. “Oh, I knew I could count on you. Lemon drop?” he offered, holding the bowl out to him.
He usually didn’t take lemon drops, but he had the odd feeling that he’d somehow be letting Dum-Albus down if he didn’t. “All right, thank you…Albus.”
Maybe he would finally not have to be so lonely anymore, although he supposed there was Lupin…
At some point, Severus was going to have to thank Lupin in his own way for his efforts.
August 20th, 1981
I think Snape is really on the Light side now. I had the chance to hear a most interesting conversation between him and that stupid fool…
What! Impossible. Well, maybe we won’t have to tell the Dark Lord just yet-we could get this to work for us first.
What do you want me to do?
I imagine you’ll have your chance soon, but whatever you do, do NOT present this as your idea. Wait for someone else and then do your usual routine. I can’t have you fuck this up.
Oh, I won’t! I can be quite convincing…
October 24th, 1981
“The Potters are in danger, Lupin-he’s convinced himself that the Prophecy is referring to their child instead of the Longbottoms’ son. I do not know how he came to that decision-” Mercifully, he did not mention Sirius again “ - but he has, and now there is nothing to be done. While he hasn’t revealed his plans in their entirety, it would be like him to have woven the night of Halloween into his plotting. Still, I cannot know for sure, and most likely will not until the night before at best,” Snape let out, face covered in its usual impassive mask.
“Oh, sweet Godric,” Remus murmured, clutching his chest with his hand, leaning on the kitchen table for support. He wondered, and not for the first time, how Snape managed to appear so detached from all this. It was absolutely frightening, almost inhuman, the way he cleaned all emotion from his face at will.
“Something must be done. I would have them moved, but then the Dark Lord would know there was a spy in his ranks and I cannot risk detection at this point. So they must stay. But we must do something else, something to thwart the Dark Lord without making my aid obvious.”
Regaining composure, Remus said swiftly, “Yes, yes of course. You go to Albus-I shall be there shortly.”
Nodding briskly, Snape Disapparated with a crack, and it was only after he had been gone a few moments when Remus allowed his trembling to show as he grasped the table even tighter, his knuckles turning white.
--
There was an impromptu Order meeting immediately after they spoke with Albus, and Remus found himself dreading it.
What could possibly be done by this point? He wished he could say that he was certain of Sirius’s innocence, however accidental any revealing of information might have been. There had been a reason no one had mentioned Lily’s due date-the Potters had been openly provoking You-Know-Who for at least the past year, and any child of theirs would have been susceptible to the scheming dark wizard.
Aberforth’s house was packed with wizards everywhere, and the panicked noise was only adding to Remus’ anxiety.
“Silence, everyone, please!” Albus cried, clapping his hands once.
The Order’s respect for their leader was so vast that they ceased to talk at once, and their air around them trembled with everyone’s fear. Spontaneous Order meetings were never a good sign and always meant Something Bad.
“We do not have much time,” Albus said, words tight with urgency, “so I will get straight to the point. Voldemort has named the unknown in the Prophecy.”
There were gasps all around as people shot nervous glances toward Frank and James. Remus put a supporting hand on James’ shoulder as he felt his friend stiffen beside him, and he couldn’t resist a glance in Sirius’s direction. Yet his face remained empty of anything that might have resembled guilt.
“I am so sorry James,” Albus said, face grave, “but he has determined it will be Harry.”
James blanched, and a silence thick as fog descended on all assembled as they digested the information.
Mad-Eye was the first to break it as he called out, “I assume our so-called informant told you this, Albus?”
Remus couldn’t help it-he cringed. He was aware of James’s eyes sliding to him questioningly, but Remus ignored them and remained fixed on Albus as he answered calmly, “Yes, he did.”
“How do you know he isn’t misleading us?” Mad-Eye demanded, and Remus bit back a groan. Attacks like these were launched whenever Snape was brought up.
“I would trust him with my life, as you very well know, Alastor, and if you trust me, you would do the same,” Albus said calmly, voice sharp as cut glass.
Thank Merlin Mad-Eye doesn’t know it’s Snape, Remus thought, as Mad-Eye muttered something that sounded suspiciously like Constant Vigilance.
The whispering had started again, and Remus could pick out:
“-could trust him better if we knew him-” (Doubtful Hestia.)
“-once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater, they don’t know how to reform-” (Judgmental Sirius.)
“-he’s never lead us astray-” (Reasonable Frank.)
Albus held up a hand, and it immediately claimed respect. “Thank you. I understand your reservations, but please, all these accusations will get us nowhere if we want to work together to thwart Voldemort. First things first-the Potters need a Secret Keeper. Who would you recommend, James?” Albus asked, giving the man a sympathetic glance. Remus tightened his hand on his friend’s shoulder.
James’s eyes were hard as granite. “That bastard’s not getting my son. I don’t care what happens to me, I’ll kill him myself if I have to-and I want Sirius to be Keeper.”
Everyone’s eyes turned to Sirius, and Remus couldn’t help but wonder if this was really a good idea. But then, Sirius nodded, his eyes locked with James’s. “Sure, James. Sure, I’ll be your Keeper.”
James gave a curt nod of approval, his uncharacteristically jerky motions betraying how upset and angry he was. Merlin, Remus thought, we could all take some lessons from Snape. We’re going to be free food for You-Know-Who if we display our hearts on menus all the time…
Albus gave Sirius a hard look, and then went on, “Now, there are a few other things that need to be discussed before we have to perform the Fidelious Charm…”
October 30th, 1981
“Perhaps it’s getting to be too late and there’s no point in bringing this matter up again, but it occurred to me earlier today that having Sirius be the Secret Keeper wasn’t such a good idea.”
The four of them were having a night out in Headquarters, Lily declining to come because baby Harry had completely drained her and she needed some extra rest. Sirius had just finished telling a crude joke, and James’s sudden diversion to seriousness took them all by surprise.
Remus stared at him, but James’s distant expression and furrowed brows were an indication that he was clearly still inside himself and was momentarily ignoring everything but his thoughts.
Sirius looked especially startled, and maybe even a little hurt. “James?”
“It’s really nothing against you at all Sirius, you know that,” James said, voice small. “But…I was just thinking that…well that you’d be the first person You-Know-Who would pick on. Everyone knows you’re my best friend, and he more than likely knows you’re the Secret Keeper…”
Remus blinked. It made sense, and he wondered why someone hadn’t mentioned it at the meeting. Peter said nothing.
“I would rather it be Remus-we could make the switch by ourselves so it would not be public knowledge, and we’d be better able to thwart You-Know-Who,” reasoned James, turning his intense brown eyes to Remus, who didn’t know what to think.
Me, Secret Keeper?
Sirius had leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head. “Alright, James, I see what you’re thinking. But, if we follow your logic completely, wouldn’t Peter here make a better choice?”
Peter’s head shot up and an eager light shined in his eyes. James’s eyes bulged and he sputtered, “PETER?”
Surprisingly, it was Peter, not Sirius, who answered. “Well, it does make sense you know. I mean, I’m the least person he’ll expect, because no one ever does suspect me. I was never as smart as you three.”
Finally James sighed. “Well then, that does make sense I can see that now. But you better not fuck this up Peter or I’m warning you-I don’t care if we are friends. You’ll wish you’d never been born.”
Remus didn’t know what to think now, but he was privately glad Sirius was no longer in a position to betray the Potters, no matter how accidentally it would have been.
James stood, and all the others followed suit. “Let’s do this now, there will be no need to get Albus. I do not want anyone else but us knowing we’ve done this.”
--
The whole ordeal had been exhausting, and Remus was glad to get back to the emptiness of Headquarters.
Now that he finally had Peace And Quiet, Remus allowed himself to sag against the kitchen table, all the anxieties of the day turning into weariness.
It was then, though, that his gaze dropped to the floor, and he saw a crumpled up piece of parchment lying haphazardly on the floor, as though it had fallen out of someone’s pocket.
Bending down to pick it up, his blood went cold as the words stared up at him.
Things going as planned-the Stupid Fools will never know what hit them.
But it was the signature that chilled him to the bone.
Padfoot.
Remus stared at it, willing himself to have faith in his friend, pushing Snape’s taunting told you so out of his mind.
But he couldn’t help it.
Was that why Sirius had been so eager to make Peter Secret Keeper, giving him more ability to reveal the Potters’ house? Or was it for other motives altogether…
Stop this, Remus. Use your head first before making conclusions with your heart.
There was a way to find out the real writer of a letter, and, he raised his wand, muttered the incantation and was in for more of a shock when the name revealed itself.
No…it can’t be…how is this possible? Surely we would’ve known…
He was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost missed the sound of Apparition-apparently, the letter had a spell or two woven in it, and he should have picked up on that, should’ve known the writer wanted him to find it…
Now, right when he thought he’d had it somewhat figured out, none of this made sense at all…
Remus turned quickly, the letter squeezed desperately in his sweaty palms.
“You!” he accused, numb with denial and shock, as he struggled to believe what was in front of him.
Aberforth Dumbledore, brother of Albus, and supposed supporter of the Light. Only, now, he was wearing a sneer that would make Severus proud and had his wand pointed at Remus, and before Remus could react, had him in a body bind before he could blink.
“To think how easy all this was,” Aberforth sneered, “you so-called ‘good’ people are so damn trusting, but I swear you only see in two colors, black and white. Don’t you know that there are all sorts of shades of gray in between?”
There were many things Remus wanted to say, many things he wanted to ask, but his powers of articulation had failed him at the moment and all he could manage was a strangled, “Why?”
“My dear Remus,” Aberforth said, in a tone of voice that suggested he thought Remus to be as dear as-well, Remus would have said a Death Eater, but it really was the opposite now, wasn’t it? “You really should learn how to be more specific. You could be asking me why I think the sky is blue, or why I wrote that letter, or…but seeing as how things are, I won’t require you to elaborate your question. You see, Remus, you lot made your first mistake when you chose to underestimate Peter.”
Remus’ eyes blew up like balloons and just about popped right out of his head. First Aberforth, then…PETER?
Little chubby Peter Pettigrew, who could only think intelligently on his stomach’s behalf? Who could barely get out his own name without his tongue tripping over it? Who did a good impersonation of a tunnel when he repeated their words and arguments?
But, then, Remus thought, as reliable reason chased after the panicked disbelief, he had been acting rather funny over the past year, and maybe even longer than that. The way he had taken to wearing long sleeves even during summer, the way he would always grimace slightly when he would inform them he had to leave suddenly, the way he would clutch at and scratch his left arm when he thought no one was looking…
And none of them had noticed, none of them had asked. One time after another of Peter’s strange departures, Sirius had even joked that he was probably hungry again and was just too embarrassed to ask for food since they’d just eaten about an hour ago. They had all laughed heartily, but they had never, never thought to discuss the number of times Peter would leave them, had never once thought that Peter deserved a suspicious glance.
Yet Remus could not help but wonder how much of a role Aberforth had played in Peter’s betrayal, if Aberforth had been the one to plant the seeds of discord in his mind and watered them with his own darkness.
But at least Sirius had nothing to do with this after all.
As if he were reading Remus’ mind, Aberforth commented casually, as though he were merely speaking of the weather, “He never felt like he truly belonged with you lot, felt he was like an embarrassing piece of clothing bought by a parent and then shoved in a closet, to be taken out only because of a sense of obligation. The basic ingredients were there…I simply mixed them about a little.”
“And I suppose You-Know-Who helped pick the target?” Remus spat, the shock erupting into pulsing anger, feeling helpless in his body bind, wishing not for the first time that he’d had someone else at Headquarters with him. But nothing in his wildest dreams could have prepared him for this. He was still wrapping his mind around what was before him, that Aberforth had helped encourage Peter to leave them, that Peter had even left them in the first place, that rumored-to-be-omniscient Albus had failed to see this - in his own brother, no less!
“Oh, I will not deny that it was his idea,” Aberforth said smugly, “but this is my masterpiece, not his. Even he had not foreseen that it would work as well as it did, that the characters would unknowingly do his bidding. Your accidental camaraderie with Snape was an added bonus.”
Remus stared, not seeing how the Death Eater spy was of any importance to this particular turn of events. “Snape?”
“Ah, yes. In case you hadn’t noticed, he has a Grudge against you lot the size of an iceberg, especially against Black. The Dark Lord has never completely trusted him despite his high rank, which was the main reason that when Pettigrew and I were summoned, we were kept away from the actual meetings, so you see, he never had any idea that we were even involved.”
Remus wanted to know how Aberforth knew about that, and then remembered the feeling that he was being watched when he’d run into Snape that day, that day which now seemed to be eons ago. He hadn’t seen anyone, but now it all made sense: it must’ve been Peter in his Animagus form, who had seen him talk with Snape in a moderately amicable manner.
It had been Snape who didn’t trust Sirius, Snape who loathed Sirius with a passion, and Snape who was trying to convince Remus that Sirius’ recklessness would put them all at risk. When, in actuality, it had been Peter…
Oh, sweet Merlin.
Everything had finally clicked into place.
“So it was you who gave Peter the idea to make him the Secret Keeper. Sirius may have suggested it, but he seemed to eager about the whole thing. And, even if we did misjudge him, Peter was never that cunning,” Remus said, words laced with horror, speaking more to himself than Aberforth.
“Yes, that was one of my more brilliant ideas,” Aberforth said, his ego swelling up to the size of America. “And the letter was the icing on the cake.”
“I can’t believe I even thought for a second that Sirius had written that letter,” Remus whispered, realizing the extent to which Snape had colored his view of his friend without him even noticing. “Please, Aberforth,” Remus said desperately, knowing this was a hopeless fight but needing to say something, “you don’t have to do this. There is always a choice-”
The wizard laughed harshly, the sound as twisted as the look on his face. “Oh, my good, foolish Remus. This has been in the works for years-there is no going back now, and I never had any intention of following any other path. No one, not even Snape, was smart enough to see this coming, but I couldn’t let our grand masterpiece go unnoticed. We needed to let someone know, and who else but you?”
Remus gritted his teeth, and his eyes were hard as granite. “Why me?”
“Because, my friend,” Aberforth mocked, friend dripping with sarcastic sweetness, “you will be the only one left. And, in the end, you won’t even remember how it all came to be, and your mind will be tortured until the end of your days!”
This, Remus thought, expression overcast with grim realization, was the worst sort of predicament, to be able to know what is going to happen but be powerless to stop it. He felt like he was reading a book, following a plot knowing what the outcome would be for its characters, but being unable to help them. Except he was the protagonist, and he couldn’t even help himself.
Aberforth was looking at him expectantly, but Remus wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of any dramatic last words, his eyes haunted with the repercussions of you will be the only one left.
And, as suddenly as everything began, it ended with a flick of a wand and “Obliviate! ”
A triumphant laugh, black as a shadow, was the last thing Remus was aware of as his mind was paved in white.
November 2nd, 1981
Even the best-laid plans could have a surprising ending, and this masterpiece was no different.
In all their calculations, Aberforth and Peter had not counted on the Dark Lord’s disappearance. Yes, Aberforth chose to call it a disappearance, not a death.
The Wizarding world was full of more fools than he thought if they all believed a little baby, one so little he couldn’t even form words, could kill someone as powerful as his Lord. Oh no, he definitely was not dead. He was simply biding his time, would wait long enough until everyone was certain he wasn’t coming back.
Until then, Aberforth would just have to continue acting. He’d been playing his role so well that he’d hidden his deception from everyone, and he could keep on doing so. His only worry was that the werewolf might regain some of his memory back, but if that time came, no one would believe the man anyway.
Remus Lupin, the centerpiece of his and Peter’s work of art.
James and Lily Potter were dead. Sirius Black was in prison. Peter was Merlin knew where, probably masquerading somewhere as a rat, but proclaimed to be a hero.
This was what the world knew.
Yet Aberforth had manipulated the memory charm to give Lupin the feeling that Black was innocent, and that Peter was the traitor, so that he could by tormented by the truth that only he knew until Black rotted away.
But that was all it was-a feeling. A feeling was hard to prove without solid evidence, and seeing as how there was none, Aberforth felt certain that Lupin had had enough of trusting his heart and soon, the feeling would become nothing more than a thin wisp of memory.
Epilogue: The Last Marauder
November 4th, 1981
Alone.
The word haunted Remus Lupin day and night, night and day, followed shortly after by if only. The hardest part was thinking in past tense. To him, James and Lily Potter were still as alive to him as ever, and each time he felt himself thinking James is or Lily is left a gaping wound in his heart when he realized his error with tense. Was.
The only thing he would say was James and Lily are dead. But the word that came after made the present tense even more painful.
Dead. Dead, dead, dead…
He stood staring at their gravestones, but no matter of reading and rereading the dates inscribed made the situation any more real.
When people grieved, they tended to think irrationally, and that was the direction where Remus was going. Snape was the spy, wasn’t he? Why hadn’t he been able to see what You-Know-Who had been planning, why hadn’t You-Know-Who confided everything to him if Snape were so trusted?
If only he hadn’t let Snape convince him that Sirius was working in tandem with You-Know-Who.
If only he weren’t so easily influenced by others.
If only he hadn’t let himself be persuaded of Sirius’s “turn” by Snape.
If only he’d murdered Snape when he had the chance that cold, wet July night.
If only they’d switched Secret Keepers…
Yet that was little comfort as the rest of the Mocking Words danced in front of his eyes, tormenting him. Well, he knew one thing. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice, and right now, he didn’t care if Albus trusted Snape. He hoped he never saw the man again. Somewhere lodged in his heart, he knew that he wasn’t being rational, that Snape had done a lot for the Order.
But it was what he hadn’t done that angered Remus. If he’d been doing so much already, why hadn’t he found the traitor?
And why hadn’t he tried more to turn You-Know-Who away from the Potters?
And why was he still trying to trust his heart, his heart that was telling him Sirius was innocent of Peter’s murder, when his head was telling him otherwise?
Sirius had been Secret Keeper. They had not switched. There was the proof of his guilt. He’d made the mistake of trusting his heart one too many times-surely he’d learned by now never to do that again?
His knees started to weaken, and he felt himself begin to thaw. He sank to the ground of the cemetery in Godric’s Hollow, and for the first time since that dreadful night, he broke down and sobbed.
And far away, on a doorstep on Private Drive, a baby boy with a lightening bolt scar on his forehead unknowingly echoed Remus’s grief as he burst into tears.
MISCHIEF MANAGED