Fic: The Hour Between Part 6
Team: Team AU (rs_games)
Title: The Hour Between
Author: rev02a
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst
Word Count: 15,020
Summary: If Dumbledore was right, then a Marauder was the spy and everything James loved was in danger. His decision to change secret keepers will affect the Marauders, his wife and child, and the world at large far more than he expected.
Author's Note: Thanks a billion to my dear friend and beta S.!
Prompt: Orange words
Pack to Part Five
Little Hangleton was creepy, Remus decided. It was unquestionably humming with Dark Magic. It drummed behind Remus’ eyes like the beginnings of a migraine and made his skin itch and crawl. He held his wand close to his chest as he leaned against a stone arch. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and tried to blend into the darkness.
The old house sat on a hill and seemed to glare disdainfully down at the town below it. It was a dark and shadowy place, but clearly was once a beloved and cared for manor. Ivy threatened to overtake its western walls. An estate agent had originally intended to make a pretty galleon on the place, judging by the “for sale” sign leaned against the outlying stonewall.
Remus counted the number of lit windows-seven, that he could see. Most of them were on the upper level, but all of the curtains were drawn, so it could have been more. He paused, considering where Voldemort would keep the supposed Secret Keeper for the Potters. Not far from him, surely, so Remus decided that he did not need to search the stables or car parks.
The accommodations would not be cozy, either, so that excluded the upstairs where the bedrooms were. The cellar or the wine cellar or the kitchen cupboards, then, Remus determined.
There was an entrance to the cellar on the south side of the house. Remus moved stealthfully out of the bushes and across the lawn. He kept low and scanned the grounds as he ran. He paused at the corner of the house. Peering around it, he could see the vague outline of a cellar door guarded by a bored Death Eater.
The man was so large that his cloak did not even reach his ankles. He had pulled off his silver mask to smoke, so it rested on the top of his skull. The smoke rolled about his shoulders into night. Remus longed for a hit of nicotine, and he took a long drag of night air, hoping for some of the smoke would travel his way.
This cleared his head and reminded him of his task. Remus rolled his shoulders, prepared a spell, and drove around the corner of the stone manor. The spell was old, blood-tied magic-the sort of enchantment that came from deep within the caster and could only be used in certain situations.
The spell was to be used only when one’s true love was in danger.
Remus found it appropriate. He hoped Sirius would approve.
The Death Eater’s knees went weak and he toppled over, face-first into the muddy pebbles that lined the path to the cellar. Remus leaned over the body and retrieved the man’s half smoked cigarette. There was no need to waste it, he thought. He also grabbed the man’s mask and pulled it on over his face.
With the cigarette sticking out through the narrow mouth gap, Remus manhandled the Death Eater into the shrub by the house. Then, promptly, Remus let himself into the cellar.
As he descended the stairs, he snubbed the fag on the moist stone steps. The cellar was dark and smelled of dank rot and fresh blood. Remus muttered “lumos,” and the room came into focus. There were wooden crates piled near the steps and Remus thought he heard a rat run into them. The far wall housed a wine collection, though the dusty bottles appeared forgotten. In the center of the room was a column that supported the weight of the house.
Sirius was chained to that column.
He sagged sideways, using the column to keep him moderately upright. His eyes were downcast, and blood trailed across his bruised face. Remus noted that his robes were gone, and the remains of his tattered trousers were stained with blood. The chains were coated with crimson and they locked at his wrists and ankles. Remus followed the chains with his eyes, noting that they ran around the column twice and cut into Sirius’ skin at every opportunity.
Sirius took a wheezing breath and strained to stand.
“Time for some more fun then?” he said bitterly, his voice hoarse and scratchy.
Remus moved toward him, pulling the Death Eater mask off as he moved. The silver mask pulled some of his hair out, but he paid it no mind. Relief filled him: Sirius was alive. He had found him. His heart beat double time as he all but ran to his lover. He flung the mask across the stone floor and Sirius sobbed.
“Please, no,” he pleaded, pulling his broken body back against the column.
“Padfoot,” Remus whispered, reaching Sirius. He gathered the other man in his arms. “I’m getting you out of here, Sirius. I’m here.”
“Not him,” Sirius continued to plead. “Anyone but him.”
“Padfoot,” Remus said, concerned, “I’m here. It’s alright now.”
Sirius’ eyes filled with tears. “It’s not you; more Polyjuice to break me. Please not him.”
Remus ran his hands through Sirius’ greasy hair and cupped his face. “Sirius, listen to me. I’ll prove that I’m me. Before they took you, we had a fight. You came home to me-I had someone there and I sent him home, but we had a row. A big one. And you told me that you loved me… and I didn’t say anything back. But I lied. I love you. It’s me… I’m here, Padfoot.”
His voice took on a pleading tone, begging Sirius to believe him with the words and the look in his eyes. Sirius stared at him before sagging into his arms.
“Moony,” he whispered, reverently, “oh, Moony.”
Remus kissed Sirius’ forehead, feeling the heat of fever under his lips. “Let’s get you home,” he whispered, before setting his wandtip to the chain. The links shifted and broke. Sirius lunged forward, wrapping himself into Remus’ arms.
Remus clung to his lover, pulling Sirius closer to him. Sirius pressed his cheek to Remus’ and whispered directly into his ear. As his mind processed the words, Remus felt the tendrils of fear creep up his spine.
“Moony, Peter is a Death Eater and he’s here.”
The words weren’t quiet in the darkness, and the responding squeak from the corner told Remus all needed to know. He struggled to stand and pull Sirius up simultaneously. Sirius’ muscle tone was not what it had been weeks prior; he leaned heavily on Remus. Regardless, he was still Sirius Black-the leap-then-look sort of fellow he’d always been.
“Wormtail?” Sirius called, all mock-sweetness.
A plump, balding brown rat shuffled out of the far shadows. It took only a few seconds for the rat to transform into their childhood friend. Peter Pettigrew wiped his hands on his robe and smiled brightly, but fearfully.
“Remus,” he squeaked, uncomfortably, “Lily sent me after you! I was behind you the entire time! Such good luck we have, finding Siri-“
“You lying bastard,” Sirius growled, his voice dropping low and quiet. Proof of how angry and dangerous he was. Remus shivered, reminded of the reality that he knew-Auror Black had tortured and killed for information. And that was the voice that accompanied such actions.
“He’s been here everyday, Remus, torturing me for the Potter’s Secret-“
“Lies!” Peter yelled, his voice cracking. “I came to help!”
Remus squeezed Sirius to his side. Sirius flinched. Remus added “broken ribs” to his growing list of Sirius’ injuries.
“I-I-I would only go to the Dark Lord if there were no other choice!” Peter explained, but Remus saw that his left hand was inching toward his pocket-his wand pocket.
“Yes, but Voldemort-“ Peter shivered when Sirius said the wizard’s name, “offered you something, didn’t he?”
Peter’s fingers reached his pocket and Remus snapped his wand out, flinging a stunning spell at him. Peter’s eyes widened as he crumpled to the floor. Remus turned to his bruised lover and kissed his chapped and blood-crusted lips.
“Let’s get home,” he whispered.
“Peter is the traitor, Remus,” Sirius explained, his eyes pleading. “He’s the reason Ed and Diana and Susan and Emily and Marlene and so many others are dead. He wants to kill us and Prongs and Lily and Harry. He was supposed to capture me and kill you… he was supposed to murder you, Remus.” Sirius implored, and stroked Remus’ cheek tenderly.
“He’s not our friend anymore, Moony. He deserves to die.”
“We’ll take him to James; we’ll decide together,” Remus said decisively.
Sirius nodded, thoughtfully. Remus helped Sirius hobble to the stone steps and eased him down. Sirius shivered. Remus unclasped his cloak and fitted it around Sirius’ shoulders. The chains had cut into the skin there, he noted. He stroked Sirius’ long locks back away from his face and twisted them into a tail. Sirius reached up and rested his hands on Remus’ forearms.
“I would have died for them,” he whispered.
“I know,” Remus replied, leaning over to kiss Sirius’ forehead. “That’s why I came to get you.”
There was movement behind them. Remus was turning to defend Sirius, but Sirius shoved him aside and took the blast of Peter’s amber-colored curse to his chest. Sirius was sent hurling backward onto the stone floor.
Remus saw red.
He did not think of the time Peter forgot how to identify a werewolf for his OWLs. He did not remember moonlit romps with the rat. He did not remember working on the Marauder’s Map with the plump-cheeked third year. He forgot Peter demanding that James kiss his bride at their wedding.
He simply killed his old friend with a single curse.
Peter’s eyes were huge as his lungs collapsed. Remus watched, without remorse, as his skin paled and turned blue as he asphyxiated. When Peter’s eyes stared sightlessly at the darkness of the cellar, Remus turned to Sirius.
Remus could not bear the cost of the past three weeks searching for Sirius, only to lose him. Remus knelt next to Sirius and gathered his limp form into his arms. He closed his eyes tight and fought the desire to sob. He ran his hands across Sirius’ beaten jaw and down his scratched throat.
And there, under his loving touches, he felt a faint pulse.
-*-
Sirius propped himself up in bed. His muscles screamed as he moved, but he ignored the pain. Golden orange sunlight poured into their bedroom, leaving the room far too bright for sleep.
Out in the lounge, he could hear the wireless nattering on. Remus was out there somewhere, Sirius thought. He considered getting up and going to him, but the pain in his leg and chest (and just about everywhere else) made that decision for him.
Sirius sighed. He looked around the room and stared in wonder at the two objects lying on Remus’ nightstand: his Auror nameplate and the photograph from his desk at work. So Remus had found the clue after all, Sirius smiled bitterly; Ed had been skeptical.
Edgar’s face flashed before his eyes. Sirius felt the hammering blow of sorrow hit him. He wondered how long his late partner would haunt him. Sirius squeezed his eyes closed. If he was in any less pain, he would transform into a shaggy, but loveable dog-emotions were easier as Padfoot.
If he were Padfoot, he could run until this tightness in his chest eased. Sirius shifted. Nope, he thought, that just hurt too much. He would have to lie there a little longer, but he hated being still. If that was the case, he decided, he would make life happy, even for just a moment. That would make Edgar proud, he thought, Edgar always believed in love and life and those good things that made the world turn. He took a deep breath and called out down the hall.
“Moony!” he whined, “I’m bored! And I want a fag!”
He counted the seconds until Remus leaned against the doorframe. Some of his sorrow parted at the sight of his friend.
“What are you? Three?” Remus asked, annoyed.
“I’ll have you know that I didn’t smoke at three. I wasn’t that much of a delinquent.”
Remus rolled his eyes. Sirius studied him. He looked like he was ready to change for the month: his skin swallow and yellowing, his eyes tired and haggard. Sirius patted the bed beside him. Remus seemed to consider ignoring the command, but at last, he relented.
Sirius pulled Remus toward him, forcing the taller man to rest his head against his bruised chest. Remus held most of his own weight and refused to relax. Sirius sighed: so much for a lighthearted moment with the man he loved.
“It’s rough, isn’t it?” he began. Remus was listening, but not up for conversation, apparently. “You can’t blame yourself, you know. None of us had a clue-we just trusted our friends so much-“
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Remus interrupted, quietly.
Sirius ran his palm up Remus’ arm. With his other hand, he twisted one of Remus’ three earrings. Remus batted at his hand. Sirius squeezed him closer.
“You hunted for me for three weeks,” Sirius stated. Remus didn’t argue.
“You single-handedly eliminated forty or so Inferi,” he continued. Remus shifted uncomfortably.
“And you killed two men to save me.”
“Three,” Remus clarified.
“Right, sorry, three.”
“Are you condemning me, Padfoot?” Remus asked, his voice tensing.
“Nah, not at all. I’d have set fire to the whole damn country and killed anyone who even looked like they might have given me information if it had been you.”
Remus began to pull away from Sirius’ tight embrace. Sirius held on. He leaned into Remus and whispered directly into his ear, much like he had on the night Remus had rescued him.
“You know, I had some time to think down there,” he began. Remus stilled. Sirius refused to tell his lover that he had been haunted by the Bones girls’ screams or that he had hallucinated that his dead partner reported James’ death to him. Instead, he told him about one of his realizations. “After a while I ran out of interesting things to think about, so I started to practice my French.”
Remus pulled back at looked at Sirius incredulously.
“What?” Sirius retorted. “I was bored!”
Remus muttered something as he leaned back into Sirius’ arms. It sounded snide. Sirius ignored it.
“I was thinking about the direct translation of the word ‘twilight.’ You know how some words are actually phrases, like, say, ‘potato.’ It means ‘apple of the earth’-“
Remus was getting exasperated, he could tell. He wrapped his explanation up.
“Anyway, ‘twilight’ directly translates to ‘the hour between the wolf and the dog’.” Remus shifted so he could see Sirius’ face. He looked a little surprised. “Anyway, so I was thinking about that. And how, we’re not even close to out of the woods yet with this fucking war. And, well, James is going to be in hiding for a long time.”
Sirius traced his thumb along the shell of Remus’ ear, outlining his lobe and golden hoops. “So we’re sort of in this hour between, and things are probably going to get worse, but, honestly, it’s going to be ok. Because, well, it’s who we are: the wolf and his dog.”
Remus stared at Sirius. Then he leaned over and kissed Sirius slowly. Sirius didn’t close his eyes as he deepened the kiss. Remus brushed his fingers through Sirius’ hair and along his collar. He pulled back and met Sirius’ gaze.
“Yeah, Padfoot,” he said softly, “we are going to be ok.”