Dreamlife by jae_w
Title: Dreamlife
Author: jae_w
Summary: You can't trust in dreams.
Rating: PG
Recipient: librae
***
Dreamlife
Remus burst through the door and threw his books onto his bed, just to hear the satisfying thump as they bounced off onto the floor. He was about to throw himself onto his bed, too, when Peter's head popped around the corner.
"Moony?" Peter said. "Something wrong?"
Remus sighed loudly. "I'm fine," he said, and sat down on his bed with his back to Peter. He'd been counting on an hour to himself.
"Aren't you meant to be at the careers assembly?"
"Didn't feel like it," Remus said. He sighed again. After all the time he'd spent hanging out with Sirius and James, he was decent enough at slipping away without his teachers noticing. It was his friends he had a hard time avoiding. Not that he needed to avoid them, of course. He could have told them he wasn't up for the assembly, and James would have punched him on the shoulder and said, "Come on, who knows, we might hear something useful. First time for everything, they say," and Sirius would've shrugged and said, "Best idea I've heard in days," and suggested a Hogsmeade run. But they both would've left him alone if he'd insisted, or even if he'd just dropped a hint.
Remus hadn't felt like dropping a hint, though, so he'd loitered at his desk after Potions, pretending to look for something in his bag. Sirius had looked back at him, but Remus waved him away and said, "I'll catch up." He'd known Sirius would keep an eye out for him, so he joined the crowd in the hallway, mouthing, "I'll catch up," again when Sirius looked over his shoulder. It was easy enough to just let himself fall back farther and farther, until Sirius and James had turned the corner. Then he ducked into an empty classroom and waited until the coast was clear.
And now his reward for so skillfully eluding Sirius and James was getting stuck with Peter, the least likely of all of them to catch a hint, even with a ten-minute head start and an illustrated guidebook. But Remus was being unfair, because when he turned around Peter was looking at him with an awkward sympathy that was so essentially Peter that he almost laughed.
"Sure," Peter said.
"After all," Remus said lightly, "how many times did we have to meet with McGonagall? I figure I'm pretty clear on what my career options will be." He laughed a little, but Peter didn't join in. "Wait a minute -- shouldn't you be at the assembly?"
"I think I'm pretty clear on my own options, too," Peter said. "How many assemblies do I need to attend to learn how to become the Third Assistant Undersecretary for Banalities and Trivial Routine?"
Remus blew out his breath with irritation. If Peter hadn't been looking at him, he would have rolled his eyes. "He didn't mean it, you know. He was just -- we're all a little nervous about, I don't know, what comes next. He was just having you on -- and himself, too, really, because it's not like he has a plan. It was a joke."
"I know," Peter said. He sat down next to Remus. "But it wasn't totally a joke, was it?"
"Peter --"
"I'm not mad," Peter said. "I'm glad, really, because it made me think. Because I read all the brochures, and I went to all the meetings, and I couldn't really picture myself doing any of the things they told us about, you know? And, I mean, that's how people end up becoming Third Assistant Undersecretaries, right? Because they can't think of anything they can see themselves doing but they have to do something, and that's what there is to do."
"You're not going to be the Third Assistant Undersecretary of whatever it was, Peter," Remus said impatiently.
"No," Peter said. "I'm not."
"Well, that's great," Remus said. He picked up one his books. "I'm really glad for you. But listen, I was kind of hoping to do some quiet studying --"
"I know I'm not," Peter said, "because I went to this seminar."
Damn it, Remus thought. He put his book down. "A seminar, huh?" he said, because he knew he'd never forgive himself if Peter ended up joining some kind of cult.
"Yes, last Saturday when I said I had a family party," Peter said. He knelt down and rummaged around under his bed until he found a small sparkly box. He pulled a flyer out of it and showed it to Remus. Dreaming Your Best Life Now! was written over the smiling face of a sleek-looking wizard whose pictures Remus had seen in magazines his mother sometimes bought.
"Wow," Remus said. He turned the flyer over. "'If you can dream it, you can do it,'" he read.
"I know it sounds a little strange at first," Peter said.
"No," Remus said. He felt like saying yes, of course it sounds strange, because it is strange and a tiny bit sad, but that wouldn't be particularly helpful, not with Peter. Peter was always getting talked into things, but he was usually just as amenable to being talked out of things, if you used a little tact. "No, it's just -- well, are you sure this guy can really tell you what you're supposed to do with your life? Isn't that something you kind of have to figure out on your own?"
"That's just what he said at the seminar!" Peter said. "He said he tells everyone that he can't tell them what they should do, and that he wouldn't if he could. But he's invented this way to kind of help you imagine some possibilities. Because, see, I told him, at the seminar we had these groups where you could stand up and tell people why you were there, I told him that I couldn't decide what I wanted to do because I just couldn't see myself in any of the careers other people had, I just couldn't picture me doing any of that, for years and years, for my whole life. I just couldn't see it. And he said it was really good that I came, because that's exactly the type of thing he helps people with. He helps you see yourself doing things you never dreamed of before, things you never thought someone like you could do, and then -- well, once you dream it, you totally can do it."
"Sure," Remus said. "Sure, that seems like a good first step. What, um, what did you dream yourself doing?"
"You can't tell anyone what you dream," Peter said. "That's part of how it works -- so you're not biased by anyone else. You've got to decide for yourself if a dream feels right to you. If it feels true." He opened up the box again and pulled out a small pillow. "I got one of these at the seminar."
"Wow," Remus said. "That's -- what is that?"
"It's an Altsomnio. It tells you a future."
"All right," Remus said. Tact was fine in its place, but sometimes, with Peter, you had to put your foot down. "All right, Peter, come on, I'm glad the seminar worked for you and all, but you can't really think that thing tells your future. I mean, if it could, you don't think they'd be giving them out to people at random seminars, do you? People like Dumbledore would have them, but you and me couldn't --"
"It doesn't tell you your future," Peter said. "It tells you a future. You sleep on it at night, and it shows you a possible future, one life that maybe you might live. Things you never dreamed of before, you can kind of try out while you sleep. Things I never would've dared to dream, things I thought I could never have, could never be ..."
"It's working for you, huh," Remus said. He turned the pillow over and over in his hands.
"Yes," Peter said. Remus had never heard Peter sound so confident. "You should borrow it sometime. I think it might help you."
"Don't you need it?" Remus said. "Aren't you still dreaming your best life?"
Peter smiled. "Oh, I think I may have seen enough." He took the pillow from Remus and put it back in its box. "Let me know when you want it," he said.
Remus didn't say anything. He lay on his bed pretending to study while Peter read a book he'd gotten at his seminar, called What They Don't Want You to Know about Alternative Magicks. Then at supper James and Sirius were full of mocking for the old ghost who'd spoken about tourism opportunities, and Remus had been happy to laugh along right through the meal and then while they did their homework. Neither James nor Sirius mentioned his absence from the assembly, and Remus might have believed they'd forgotten or hadn't noticed until they were getting ready for bed.
As Remus started to pull his jumper over his head, Sirius grabbed his arm. "Fancy a walk?" he said, and Remus shrugged.
"Sure," he said. "James, do you want --"
But James was full of excuses about an early practice the next day, and not quite able to look Remus in the eye while he gave them. When Peter clamored to come along, James said, "Wormy, I was actually hoping you'd help me out. I missed that last lecture in Arithmancy, and I thought you might still have your notes."
"Just us then," Remus said.
Sirius lifted an eyebrow. "Is that a problem?" He snagged James's cloak and walked out the door.
Outside, Remus pressed close against Sirius's back as they pulled the cloak around themselves. Remus started to head for town but Sirius reached back and wrapped a hand around his thigh. "No, not tonight," Sirius whispered, tilting his head back so his breath brushed against Remus's ear. He smiled, and Remus let himself be led back toward the lake. Under a small cluster of trees Sirius dropped the cloak and sprawled out on the ground.
"What are we doing here?" Remus said.
"What do you think?"
"Couldn't we do the same thing a lot more comfortably indoors?"
"Oh, sure," Sirius said, "if you want to be all schoolboyish about it."
"If wanting to avoid mud and mosquitoes makes me a schoolboy, then sign me up. Oh wait -- I was already signed up years ago."
"I'll sign you up," Sirius said. He grabbed Remus's ankle and pulled him down to the ground. When Remus settled himself on his back, Sirius let his head fall hard against Remus's thigh. Remus ran a hand through his hair. "I was just sick of being inside, you know? I'm sick of sleeping in my assigned bed in my assigned room, sleeping when I'm told and getting up when I'm told. I'm just sick of being where I'm supposed to be, doing what I'm supposed to do --"
"When was the last time you did what you were supposed to do?"
"I'm not the one who skipped career assembly today."
"Oh," Remus said.
"Yeah, oh," Sirius said. He tilted his head back to look at Remus, his neck arching. "You're being kind of an idiot about the whole thing, but I don't blame you for skiving off. I just wish you'd told me, because I would've come with you."
"What're you going to do when we leave school, Sirius?"
"Figured we'd get a place with James -- maybe old Wormtail, too, if he insists, it's always good to have a little help with the rent."
"I meant for a living, you know?"
"Dunno. We'll figure something out. Nothing in an office, or where we have to get up before nine. It'd be nice if it paid a lot, too, for very very little work. That'd be ideal." Sirius turned onto his side and smiled. "You worry too much about your -- Dumbledore's got an idea or two up his sleeve, I think, even if he's not telling yet. There'll be about a million things we can do, you know? And best of all, there'll be no one telling us what to do every second of the day. We'll finally be free." He spread his arms out. "I can't wait."
"I don't know," Remus said. "I like it here. I can't really imagine what it's going to be like ... I just like it here."
"I guess it's not the worst," Sirius said. He grabbed Remus's collar and pulled him down, lifting his throat for Remus's mouth.
Back in their room, Remus lay awake long after Sirius was snoring. A few hours before dawn he found himself standing by Peter's bed, the Altsomnio in his hand. He looked over his shoulder, but Peter was sleeping soundly. Peter wouldn't mind, though. After all, he'd offered to loan it to Remus. Remus shut the box quietly and went back to bed.
The small pillow was hard under his head, and Remus thought he'd have trouble getting to sleep. But it was scented with something soothing, lavender, or was that tea, or something else, and then he was standing in the dark, still, his legs braced wide and his head bent. He was waiting, for something, for what, he was waiting, and then the light hit him, hard and bright like the moon, and from the corner of his eye he saw Sirius leaning against a wall watching him, a beer in his hand, and then the noise of the crowd rushed him and he lifted his head and leaned into the microphone and howled.
Something was wrong, he felt that right away, a thin thread of worry beneath the hectic fever of the music. It was close, too close, the phase of the moon, and the feral need scratching at his skin from the inside, so close, but even as he thought that he knew it was his waking self thinking that, his other self, and then Radha shoved up against him, bass held out to her side, and yelled, "You're wild tonight," and then there was no waking self, no other self, just himself and he was singing, howling and he was wild tonight.
Tonight he was wild.
After, when the music had stopped everywhere but inside his ringing ears and his stinging skin, stretched too tight over the wild night inside him, after, he retreated backstage. The crew had left, and most of the band, all except Charles sitting dazed and dreamy-eyed as he smoked in the corner. "Take it outside," Remus said, and Charles smiled and raised a hand and drifted toward the hallway.
Remus pushed his dressing-room door open and Lily met him, bending over her swelling stomach to kiss his cheek. "You were amazing," Peter said, and shook his hand.
"Amazing," James said, but there was something doubtful in his voice, and Lily looked back over her shoulder first at James, then at Sirius, who was slouched against the mirror, another beer in his hand.
"Didn't you enjoy the show?" Remus said.
"Yeah, it was great," James said, "it's just ... isn't it -- hell, Remus, I know the two of you think you cooked up something that can control it. But just in case, shouldn't you -- are you sure you should be out? I mean, it's the full moon tonight."
"Oh, someone else has a calendar, too," Remus said, and dropped lightly into his chair.
James stepped toward him angrily, but Peter put a hand on his arm. "Come on," he said, "don't you think Moony knows what's safe for him to do? He's been doing this for a while now. All those restrictions back at school -- I always thought they might be a little ... extreme. Hogwarts is a pretty conservative place, after all, and we were kids, we didn't know how to do anything different. And even if for some crazy reason Remus did lose sight of his, I don't know --"
"Lunar challenges?" Sirius suggested.
"Yes, exactly," Peter said. "Even if he did, then you'd be here to stop him, right, Sirius? You'd know if he'd gone too far, wouldn't you?"
"Oh, wouldn't I," Sirius said.
James looked back and forth between Sirius and Remus. "I don't like this," he said, his face flushed and his hair pushed up messily. "I don't know what's going on, but I don't like this."
"Nothing for you to like or dislike," Sirius said. He met James's gaze steadily but didn't move, not even when James stormed out of the room. Peter hurried after James, calling his goodbyes, and Lily leaned down and kissed Remus again.
"Be careful," she said, and Sirius said,
"You don't have to tell me."
"I wasn't telling you," Lily said, and followed James and Peter out.
"Well, that was fun," Remus said.
"You shouldn't have invited them tonight," Sirius said. "Two nights ago or two nights from now, fine, but tonight you were just asking for trouble." He grinned suddenly. "And you know that's my job."
"Not your only job, happily," Remus said. He stood up and grabbed Sirius's shirt, pulling him down onto the sofa, one hand sliding around Sirius's hip.
"I feel like a groupie," Sirius said, and Remus said,
"Do you mind?"
"Actually, no," Sirius said, and when Remus opened his mouth to laugh Sirius kissed him.
Sirius kissed him, and it was like it was onstage, music and desire and a wilder craving twisting inside him, one long howl of need that drove right through him. It was like it was onstage but better, stronger, and Sirius was closer and there was no spotlight on him now but just the cold cruel light of the moon through the window.
"Aren't you afraid?" Remus said when Sirius pulled away from him, lying back on the sofa with his hair tumbled dark on the red cushions and his lips half parted. Sirius laughed and his mouth was wet and Remus said, "You should be afraid."
"Of you?" Sirius said, and Remus kissed him again, dropped his head to Sirius's shoulder while Sirius panted in his ear. Beneath Sirius's pale skin Remus could hear his blood surging, calling to him, howling, and Sirius said,
"I'm not afraid," and Remus put his teeth to Sirius's skin, just lightly, just for a moment. Sirius said, "I know you, and I know you wouldn't, you never would," and Remus bit down, hard, and Sirius's blood rushed to meet him as Remus howled.
Tonight he was wild.
Remus woke up cold, his chest heaving. He was breathing so loud he almost thought he would wake the others up, but the room was quiet and no one stirred. He got up and put the Altsomnio back in its box, then went back to bed and waited for morning to come.
The dream didn't leave him all day. It was stupid, he told himself, ridiculous really, dreaming of being a rock star like some dumb kid. The pillow was probably enchanted to give the dreamer a thrilling adventure, something to make him think he was special, extraordinary, capable of great things. Trust Peter to fall for a scam like that.
All day Remus told himself that, but late at night when the others were asleep he found himself standing in front of his bed with the Altsomnio in his hand. Another try, he thought, he'd give it another try, something to wash away the taste of the last dream. Tonight he'd give it another chance to show him another future, one that could actually happen this time. He went back to bed and waited to dream another life.
"Wait," Lily said. "Don't hurry me."
"I don't have much time," Remus said. "I'm meeting Hippolyta in an hour."
"You can't rush this potion. It's tricky." Lily turned the bowl between her hands slowly and said, "Here, hand me that truthsward."
Remus handed her the dull green leaves and Lily shredded them precisely, her eyes on her work. "You don't have to do this, you know."
"It's my job," Remus said.
"Anyone would understand -- everyone would understand if you didn't want this mission, though," Lily said. "I'm not convinced it's even ethical for you to take it. I'm surprised Dumbledore didn't --"
"Do you know what Dumbledore had to go through to get me this job? I don't, but I can begin to imagine. Don't you remember what old Holkyskin asked me before they hired me? He wanted to know how long it'd be before there was an article in the paper about the werewolf Auror who ate a Muggle baby -- and he wasn't just trying to rile me up. He was serious. That's what Dumbledore was up against, and if you think I'm going to give anyone one reason to say that he was wrong, that I can't do the job --"
"You've proven yourself," Lily said. "To Dumbledore, and everyone -- but this is awfully close to home."
"Not that close," Remus mumbled.
"What did Sirius say about it?" Remus didn't answer, and Lily put the bowl down and looked up at him. "Oh, Remus. You didn't tell him?"
"I can't," Remus said. "The mission is secret. I can't tell anyone."
"You told me."
"I needed your help. Did you tell James?"
"That's different."
"Oh, it's all right for you to keep secrets from him --"
"It's not his brother," Lily said, and Remus ran a hand through his hair.
"It's not like -- they're not exactly close. He's hated his brother, ever since ..." Remus sighed. "Besides, you think it would help if he knew ahead of time? And maybe -- there's a chance it's not what we think, it's not as bad --"
"You think that?"
"No," Remus said. "No, I don't."
"Me either," Lily said. "Here, give me your wand." She painted the potion on it carefully. "Be careful, and -- just be careful."
"Thanks," Remus said, and took his wand from her.
Hippolyta was waiting for him at the appointed spot, disguised as a ragged old woman. "They went inside ten minutes ago," she whispered. "Black and O'Mara, and a Muggle man as well."
"A Muggle? That's not a good sign," Remus said, and then they heard the screams.
He and Hippolyta rushed into the building, wands drawn. In what would have been the parlor of the abandoned house, the Muggle man was writhing, screaming as Regulus Black stood over him, one arm raised, a look of fascinated horror on his face as he watched.
"That's right," O'Mara wheezed, "that's right, Black, that's what we do to animals who defy us, who won't tell us what they know." The Muggle man went limp and the screaming stopped. "Good job, Black, and that's enough for now."
Regulus dropped his arm. O'Mara nudged the Muggle with his foot and he whimpered, trying to shield himself with his hands. "Ready to talk?" he said, and the man whimpered again and gibbered nonsense. "Ah, seems he can't talk any more. Useless trash, these Muggles -- their minds break so easily. All right, then, Black, you know what to do."
Regulus raised his wand again and his mouth opened for the curse. Without hesitation Remus drew his own wand and Regulus went flying back against the wall. He went pale, suddenly, even paler than usual, and his mouth leaked blood, but what struck Remus most was the look on Regulus's face. Regulus looked surprised, Remus thought, not shocked but simply surprised, as if a novel he was reading had taken an unexpected turn and he wasn't yet sure what he thought of it.
Behind him Remus heard O'Mara shriek in frustration and pain, but he didn't even look back as he walked across the room. When he reached the body slumped against the wall, he paused a moment before he could bring himself to touch it. Regulus's skin was still warm, of course, and as he put his fingers against Regulus's throat he thought for a moment he saw a pulse flutter, but it was just the trembling of his own hand. He closed Regulus's wide, calm eyes, and then turned to the Muggle. The poor man sobbed and shrank from Remus's touch, and Remus cast a soothing spell over him and left him on the floor.
"You should go home," Hippolyta said. She had disarmed and bound O'Mara while Remus had dealt with Regulus. "I'll take care of everything here, the clean-up crew and the reports. You'll want to ..." She touched his arm. "You should go home."
"Yes," Remus said. "Thank you. I should go home."
When he got home Sirius was still out, and Remus showered and changed and poured himself a drink. He was halfway through his second when Sirius came through the front door.
"Are you home?" Sirius called out from the hall. "I thought you were on duty tonight, something hush hush that we mere mortals can't ..."
His voice trailed off as he came into the room and saw Remus's face. "What's wrong?" he said from the threshold.
Remus told him. Sirius didn't say anything while Remus told him, didn't speak and didn't move, just grew paler with every word, paler than usual, as Remus told him. When Remus finished Sirius said, "Good," his mouth snapping tight and close over the word. "Good. I'm glad -- good."
Then he didn't say anything at all for a long time. Remus sat helplessly and watched him, breath rolling long and smooth through his chest, eyes dark and wide. Finally Sirius said, "What did he look like, when you -- when it happened?"
"He looked surprised," Remus said.
Sirius laughed suddenly, a taut choked sound. "Surprised, was he? Poor bugger, his whole fucking life was predictable as sunrise and still he was always surprised by it." He laughed again, then walked over to the window and stood looking out it. "Surprised," Sirius said, his back to Remus. "Bloody hell."
Sirius stood there for a long time and Remus watched him. Finally Sirius said, without moving, "I have to go out for a while. I'm going out."
"All right," Remus said. Then he said, "I'm sorry."
Sirius wheeled around. "I hated him," he said.
"I know," Remus said.
Sirius walked toward him, fast, and grabbed Remus's face in his hand tightly. Remus could feel Sirius's hand shaking. "You did the right thing. It had to be done, and I'm glad you ..." He stopped for a moment, and his hand stopped shaking. "I'm glad it's done," Sirius said. He let go of Remus and left the room. Remus heard the door swing shut behind him.
Remus sat silent in the silent room for a long, long time.
When Remus woke up Sirius was shaking him. "Come on, man, you're going to be late," he said.
Remus jerked away from his hand, and Sirius looked at him curiously. "I'm up," he said, but Sirius stood looking at him another minute before he shrugged and walked out. After Sirius left, Remus got up and put the Altsomnio back in its place. Nestled in its box the Altsomnio looked innocuous, even pretty in a fussy way, the type of thing someone's maiden aunt would have on her sofa. Remus pushed the cover down tight and shoved the box back under Peter's bed.
Again the dream chased him all day, haunting him at odd times, so that James looked at him curiously and Peter said, "You feeling all right -- you're not, uh, it's not the right time for, um, you know ..." until Sirius shoved him.
"I'm fine," Remus said, over and over, "I'm fine," out loud to James and Peter and silently to himself, until he was convinced of it. Still, he took the long way around to get to his extra tuition in Potions, avoiding the Quidditch pitch where a group of younger Slytherin kids were playing a pickup game, their voices ringing out clearly in the crisp air.
Remus stayed up late that night, playing Exploding Snap with Peter, James and Sirius until long after lights-out, but one by one his friends slipped away to sleep until Remus was alone. The little box was just visible, one corner sticking out from under Peter's bed, and Remus cursed himself as he walked over to it. He would've thought the last dream would put him off the Altsomnio for good, but he couldn't help hoping that the third try would be the charm. After all, dreaming of being an Auror was practically like dreaming of being a rock star, especially for him. He'd give it one more chance to show him a normal future, a real life.
"Anoop and I went out to lunch at that little place across the street, the Chinese place the Muggles run, and it was really surprisingly good. We didn't get back till two, but Featherstone was out all afternoon so we basically sat around all afternoon reading magazines hidden in file folders."
"That's nice," Sirius said without looking up from the paper. "It all sounds very nice, your nice little office job and your nice little office lunch and your nice little office buddy and your nice little office cardigan."
"It gets cold," Remus said mildly. "And hey, don't mock my nice little office job and my nice little office life, because it's pretty much the same as yours except that you don't have a nice little office buddy. You're known far and wide across the Ministry as a mean moody bastard, and I'm a saint for putting up with you."
"Ah, our Ministry colleagues. Known for their insight," Sirius said. He threw his paper down. "Doesn't it ever bother you?"
"Well, it's not the most exciting job in the world," Remus said. "But people really are nice -- shut up, some of us like that -- and you know, the Order had us placed there for a reason. One of these days we'll be needed, and until then, well, why not spend your day pleasantly?"
"I'd like to," Sirius said. "It's just impossible when I have to spend my day in an office."
"Ah, well, no one ever said a life of subterfuge and sabotage would be a thrill a minute."
"But there should at least be a thrill every million minutes or so, don't you think?" Sirius smiled. "Actually, though ..."
"What?" Remus said.
"Prongs and I have a little something ... well, just see if you can be over on the fifth floor on Monday around eleven."
"Sirius," Remus said. "We're meant not to draw attention to ourselves. We're infiltrating, remember?"
"I'm not going to draw attention to myself. There's just a little spell James found -- nothing major, just a little rain of frogs --"
"Sirius --"
"Oh, come on, you know Murdstain's as dark a Death Eater as they come, and what do I do about it? I sit there all day and I process his expense reports. What does the Order expect me to do, set him up for a tax fraud charge? But I say fine, until they give me permission I won't eliminate the man, but I can at least inconvenience him a little. Just once."
"This is important work," Remus said. "You can't just get bored and decide you're going to amuse yourself, no matter what the consequences. You shouldn't have taken the job if you weren't going to take it seriously."
"Oh, like you do? You take it so seriously you're practically in line for a promotion. Second Assistant Undersecretary of Bloody Nothing at All, look out! Remus Lupin is on his way up!"
"It's the Order's work I take seriously. The Order's, and Dumbledore's, even when I don't understand yet the full scope of that work."
"Spoilsport," Sirius said, and walked out of the room.
Remus let him go. Sirius was impossible when he was like this, and Remus wasn't in the mood for an evening of arguments or sulks. He thought he'd try convincing Sirius to let it drop the next morning, but Sirius pretended he didn't know what Remus was talking about and left early.
At lunch that day Remus wandered over to James and Lily's house. Lily was alone, as he'd hoped, and glad to see him. Over a pot of tea he told her about James and Sirius's plan. "Don't you think we should do something?"
"Do what?" Lily said. "I really think you're worrying over nothing. It's just a little rain of frogs, after all."
"Sure, now it's a rain of frogs. But what comes after that?"
"I don't know," Lily said. "Lizards?"
"It's just -- we're not supposed to be messing about, you know? Sirius could get himself fired, or worse, and all for what? A silly prank. I really think I ought to say something to Dumbledore." Lily didn't say anything. "What? If it really is nothing to worry about, Dumbledore will tell me. But if he thinks it is -- well, I don't think we should take the risk."
"I don't know," Lily said. "I just think -- well, I think it's important to be careful with these things."
"That's what I was trying to tell Sirius."
"I wasn't talking about Sirius," Lily said. She looked at him, that steady considering gaze that she'd always had, and Remus gathered up his cardigan and headed back to the office.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Sirius yelled as he stormed in the next evening.
"Thank you, I had a very nice day," Remus said. "And how was yours?"
"I'll tell you how mine was," Sirius said. "I got called on the carpet like a fucking fifth year and scolded -- scolded -- by Dumbledore, who had somehow heard that I was considering a little guerilla warfare with Murdstain. However do you think he heard that?"
Remus said, "I told him, of course. I couldn't let you and James risk the Order's work with some silly, childish --"
"Childish? Who's the one running to teacher like he's still a prefect? You have a problem, you talk to me, you don't go tattle to Dumbledore."
"I tried to talk to you, but sometimes it's just impossible, Sirius. And you leave me no other choice when you just refuse to listen."
"I don't refuse to listen," Sirius said. "I refuse to agree with you."
"Be that as it may," Remus said, "when you tell me you're planning something reckless, I have to act. I'm sorry if it upsets you, but I'm not sorry I did it." Sirius just looked at him. "You know, I know you don't want to hear this, but you should look on the whole thing as a learning experience. You're not at school any more, and if Dumbledore was so upset about your plan, then you know it wasn't right. You know --"
"You're right," Sirius said, and his voice was cold. "This has been a learning experience. I learned that I can't trust you with anything you might disapprove of. Anything you might think is reckless -- which is just about anything I might think of."
"That's not fair --" Remus said, but Sirius turned and walked out.
Remus almost dreaded Sirius's return. It was always impossible to predict what Sirius would do when he was angry, whether there'd be shouting matches or days of sulks. It was impossible to predict this time, too, because when Sirius came back home he acted like nothing had happened. He was a little quieter than usual, maybe, the first night, but after that he was the same as always, not cold or ostentatiously polite but just the same as ever. There were several nights in a row where he went out with James, but even though he didn't invite Remus he always made sure to tell him where he was going and how late he'd be. Maybe Sirius actually had learned something, Remus thought, maybe he was trying to act like an adult. And if he wanted to spend a little time alone with his best friend, Remus didn't have to tag along. He had plenty of friends of his own, he told himself, and the next time Anoop asked he went out with him and some of their friends from the office, just for a few drinks at a bar down the street.
They left Remus leaning against the doorbell, and Sirius laughed when he came to the door. "My life is a clich�," Sirius said.
Remus tried to laugh, too, but when he opened his mouth he threw up. "In the bushes, aim for the bushes," Sirius said, and helped him inside.
"Sorry," Remus said when he was tucked up in bed.
"I know," Sirius said, and handed him a glass of water. "Drink all of that, because you're going to be even sorrier tomorrow."
"No," Remus said, "I don't mean -- well, I am sorry I threw up, but ... I mean I'm sorry for what I did. With Dumbledore -- I'm sorry for telling."
"I know," Sirius said. "It's all right."
"You're not angry?"
"Not much point, is there? You can't help who you are -- you can't help telling. You're a good boy, that's all there is to it, and I -- no," Sirius said. "No, I'm not angry."
"Good," Remus said. "Come to bed," and Sirius laughed and took the glass away from him and came to bed.
The next morning Sirius was still acting like nothing had happened, but this time Remus could act that way too. He felt that way, too, almost all the time. Now Sirius and James invited Remus when they went out together, almost all the time. And if there were occasional whispered conversations that cut off when Remus walked into the room, or if an occasional silence fell just exactly when Remus returned from the bar with their drinks, well, that wasn't anything to worry about, surely. Some small prank, some childish trick the two of them still hadn't outgrown. Remus was better off not knowing, he was sure of that.
Almost.
The room was still dark as midnight when Remus sat up straight, awake, panting as if he'd just thrown off some heavy weight. He grabbed the Altsomnio and almost threw it back into his box. Then, quietly so he wouldn't disturb the others, he pulled on his clothes and went out into the night.
He found himself wandering by the lake, which was darker than the night with no moon to reflect off it. When he heard footsteps behind him he didn't turn around.
"It's a little disappointing," Remus said, "that I don't even have to ask how you knew where I was."
"What's got a good boy like you out of his bed at night?" Sirius said, and Remus spun around to face him. "What is it?" Sirius said suddenly.
"Nothing," Remus said. At his side his hand was shaking a little, but Sirius probably thought it was just because of the chill. "Just -- a bad dream, is all. Or not a dream, exactly, but something like -- or yes, I guess, I guess a dream."
"Well, now I'm curious," Sirius said.
"It's nothing," Remus said, "just -- just this thing, Peter gave me, or he didn't give it to me exactly but I kind of borrowed it but I don't think he'd mind, he told me I could." Sirius crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, clearly prepared to wait him out. Remus closed his eyes and told Sirius what he'd dreamt each night before.
"All right," Sirius said finally. Remus opened his eyes but Sirius's face didn't tell him anything. "I'm trying to be sympathetic and supportive here, but I have to tell you that I don't like the sound of this."
"I know," Remus said, "I know, it's --"
"It's disturbing is what it is."
"I know."
"I think that for once I'm really going to have to take some kind of serious action here," Sirius said. Remus looked at him anxiously. "I think I'm going to have to forbid you from joining Peter's self-improvement cult."
"Sirius --" Remus said.
"Moony, you dolt," Sirius said, "they were dreams."
"They weren't just dreams --"
"They were."
"They felt true," Remus said. "They felt like something that could be true. Like something that's going to be true."
"Well, they can't all of them come true," Sirius said. "What are the chances?"
"There was one thing," Remus said. "One thing, in all of them, that could come true."
"Oh, right," Sirius said. "Right -- you're going to fail me, or hurt me, or, or what was the other one? Eat me?"
"It's not funny," Remus said. "I -- they wouldn't be funny, if you were the one who dreamt them."
Sirius said, "No, I know they wouldn't be. But the thing is, no matter how real they seemed, they're not something you could ever do."
"I wouldn't have thought so," Remus said. "But if you can dream it, you can do it."
"Whose advertising slogan is that?"
"It's not just a slogan," Remus said. "It's the first step, you know. There are things you think you can't even imagine doing, but once you can imagine them, they don't seem so strange. They seem almost -- familiar. Like they're not only something you can do, but something you might do. Something that's waiting for you, somewhere out there in the future. Something you will --"
"You won't," Sirius said. "Sure you could, all of us could do anything, but -- you won't. I'm not worried about that."
"I am."
"I know," Sirius said. "But still, you know, they were only dreams." He paused a moment and said, "And even if they weren't, even if they were -- something else, I wouldn't be afraid. I never would be." He laughed a little. "I can't even imagine it."
"I can," Remus said, low, and Sirius took a step toward him and stood looking at him gravely.
"You can't trust in dreams," Sirius said, and Remus said,
"Maybe you can't."
"No," Sirius said. He smiled at Remus, and even beneath the weight of all the things he knew how to dream Remus couldn't help smiling back.
"No," Sirius said quietly, "it's not dreams I trust."
***
Author: jae_w
Summary: You can't trust in dreams.
Rating: PG
Recipient: librae
***
Dreamlife
Remus burst through the door and threw his books onto his bed, just to hear the satisfying thump as they bounced off onto the floor. He was about to throw himself onto his bed, too, when Peter's head popped around the corner.
"Moony?" Peter said. "Something wrong?"
Remus sighed loudly. "I'm fine," he said, and sat down on his bed with his back to Peter. He'd been counting on an hour to himself.
"Aren't you meant to be at the careers assembly?"
"Didn't feel like it," Remus said. He sighed again. After all the time he'd spent hanging out with Sirius and James, he was decent enough at slipping away without his teachers noticing. It was his friends he had a hard time avoiding. Not that he needed to avoid them, of course. He could have told them he wasn't up for the assembly, and James would have punched him on the shoulder and said, "Come on, who knows, we might hear something useful. First time for everything, they say," and Sirius would've shrugged and said, "Best idea I've heard in days," and suggested a Hogsmeade run. But they both would've left him alone if he'd insisted, or even if he'd just dropped a hint.
Remus hadn't felt like dropping a hint, though, so he'd loitered at his desk after Potions, pretending to look for something in his bag. Sirius had looked back at him, but Remus waved him away and said, "I'll catch up." He'd known Sirius would keep an eye out for him, so he joined the crowd in the hallway, mouthing, "I'll catch up," again when Sirius looked over his shoulder. It was easy enough to just let himself fall back farther and farther, until Sirius and James had turned the corner. Then he ducked into an empty classroom and waited until the coast was clear.
And now his reward for so skillfully eluding Sirius and James was getting stuck with Peter, the least likely of all of them to catch a hint, even with a ten-minute head start and an illustrated guidebook. But Remus was being unfair, because when he turned around Peter was looking at him with an awkward sympathy that was so essentially Peter that he almost laughed.
"Sure," Peter said.
"After all," Remus said lightly, "how many times did we have to meet with McGonagall? I figure I'm pretty clear on what my career options will be." He laughed a little, but Peter didn't join in. "Wait a minute -- shouldn't you be at the assembly?"
"I think I'm pretty clear on my own options, too," Peter said. "How many assemblies do I need to attend to learn how to become the Third Assistant Undersecretary for Banalities and Trivial Routine?"
Remus blew out his breath with irritation. If Peter hadn't been looking at him, he would have rolled his eyes. "He didn't mean it, you know. He was just -- we're all a little nervous about, I don't know, what comes next. He was just having you on -- and himself, too, really, because it's not like he has a plan. It was a joke."
"I know," Peter said. He sat down next to Remus. "But it wasn't totally a joke, was it?"
"Peter --"
"I'm not mad," Peter said. "I'm glad, really, because it made me think. Because I read all the brochures, and I went to all the meetings, and I couldn't really picture myself doing any of the things they told us about, you know? And, I mean, that's how people end up becoming Third Assistant Undersecretaries, right? Because they can't think of anything they can see themselves doing but they have to do something, and that's what there is to do."
"You're not going to be the Third Assistant Undersecretary of whatever it was, Peter," Remus said impatiently.
"No," Peter said. "I'm not."
"Well, that's great," Remus said. He picked up one his books. "I'm really glad for you. But listen, I was kind of hoping to do some quiet studying --"
"I know I'm not," Peter said, "because I went to this seminar."
Damn it, Remus thought. He put his book down. "A seminar, huh?" he said, because he knew he'd never forgive himself if Peter ended up joining some kind of cult.
"Yes, last Saturday when I said I had a family party," Peter said. He knelt down and rummaged around under his bed until he found a small sparkly box. He pulled a flyer out of it and showed it to Remus. Dreaming Your Best Life Now! was written over the smiling face of a sleek-looking wizard whose pictures Remus had seen in magazines his mother sometimes bought.
"Wow," Remus said. He turned the flyer over. "'If you can dream it, you can do it,'" he read.
"I know it sounds a little strange at first," Peter said.
"No," Remus said. He felt like saying yes, of course it sounds strange, because it is strange and a tiny bit sad, but that wouldn't be particularly helpful, not with Peter. Peter was always getting talked into things, but he was usually just as amenable to being talked out of things, if you used a little tact. "No, it's just -- well, are you sure this guy can really tell you what you're supposed to do with your life? Isn't that something you kind of have to figure out on your own?"
"That's just what he said at the seminar!" Peter said. "He said he tells everyone that he can't tell them what they should do, and that he wouldn't if he could. But he's invented this way to kind of help you imagine some possibilities. Because, see, I told him, at the seminar we had these groups where you could stand up and tell people why you were there, I told him that I couldn't decide what I wanted to do because I just couldn't see myself in any of the careers other people had, I just couldn't picture me doing any of that, for years and years, for my whole life. I just couldn't see it. And he said it was really good that I came, because that's exactly the type of thing he helps people with. He helps you see yourself doing things you never dreamed of before, things you never thought someone like you could do, and then -- well, once you dream it, you totally can do it."
"Sure," Remus said. "Sure, that seems like a good first step. What, um, what did you dream yourself doing?"
"You can't tell anyone what you dream," Peter said. "That's part of how it works -- so you're not biased by anyone else. You've got to decide for yourself if a dream feels right to you. If it feels true." He opened up the box again and pulled out a small pillow. "I got one of these at the seminar."
"Wow," Remus said. "That's -- what is that?"
"It's an Altsomnio. It tells you a future."
"All right," Remus said. Tact was fine in its place, but sometimes, with Peter, you had to put your foot down. "All right, Peter, come on, I'm glad the seminar worked for you and all, but you can't really think that thing tells your future. I mean, if it could, you don't think they'd be giving them out to people at random seminars, do you? People like Dumbledore would have them, but you and me couldn't --"
"It doesn't tell you your future," Peter said. "It tells you a future. You sleep on it at night, and it shows you a possible future, one life that maybe you might live. Things you never dreamed of before, you can kind of try out while you sleep. Things I never would've dared to dream, things I thought I could never have, could never be ..."
"It's working for you, huh," Remus said. He turned the pillow over and over in his hands.
"Yes," Peter said. Remus had never heard Peter sound so confident. "You should borrow it sometime. I think it might help you."
"Don't you need it?" Remus said. "Aren't you still dreaming your best life?"
Peter smiled. "Oh, I think I may have seen enough." He took the pillow from Remus and put it back in its box. "Let me know when you want it," he said.
Remus didn't say anything. He lay on his bed pretending to study while Peter read a book he'd gotten at his seminar, called What They Don't Want You to Know about Alternative Magicks. Then at supper James and Sirius were full of mocking for the old ghost who'd spoken about tourism opportunities, and Remus had been happy to laugh along right through the meal and then while they did their homework. Neither James nor Sirius mentioned his absence from the assembly, and Remus might have believed they'd forgotten or hadn't noticed until they were getting ready for bed.
As Remus started to pull his jumper over his head, Sirius grabbed his arm. "Fancy a walk?" he said, and Remus shrugged.
"Sure," he said. "James, do you want --"
But James was full of excuses about an early practice the next day, and not quite able to look Remus in the eye while he gave them. When Peter clamored to come along, James said, "Wormy, I was actually hoping you'd help me out. I missed that last lecture in Arithmancy, and I thought you might still have your notes."
"Just us then," Remus said.
Sirius lifted an eyebrow. "Is that a problem?" He snagged James's cloak and walked out the door.
Outside, Remus pressed close against Sirius's back as they pulled the cloak around themselves. Remus started to head for town but Sirius reached back and wrapped a hand around his thigh. "No, not tonight," Sirius whispered, tilting his head back so his breath brushed against Remus's ear. He smiled, and Remus let himself be led back toward the lake. Under a small cluster of trees Sirius dropped the cloak and sprawled out on the ground.
"What are we doing here?" Remus said.
"What do you think?"
"Couldn't we do the same thing a lot more comfortably indoors?"
"Oh, sure," Sirius said, "if you want to be all schoolboyish about it."
"If wanting to avoid mud and mosquitoes makes me a schoolboy, then sign me up. Oh wait -- I was already signed up years ago."
"I'll sign you up," Sirius said. He grabbed Remus's ankle and pulled him down to the ground. When Remus settled himself on his back, Sirius let his head fall hard against Remus's thigh. Remus ran a hand through his hair. "I was just sick of being inside, you know? I'm sick of sleeping in my assigned bed in my assigned room, sleeping when I'm told and getting up when I'm told. I'm just sick of being where I'm supposed to be, doing what I'm supposed to do --"
"When was the last time you did what you were supposed to do?"
"I'm not the one who skipped career assembly today."
"Oh," Remus said.
"Yeah, oh," Sirius said. He tilted his head back to look at Remus, his neck arching. "You're being kind of an idiot about the whole thing, but I don't blame you for skiving off. I just wish you'd told me, because I would've come with you."
"What're you going to do when we leave school, Sirius?"
"Figured we'd get a place with James -- maybe old Wormtail, too, if he insists, it's always good to have a little help with the rent."
"I meant for a living, you know?"
"Dunno. We'll figure something out. Nothing in an office, or where we have to get up before nine. It'd be nice if it paid a lot, too, for very very little work. That'd be ideal." Sirius turned onto his side and smiled. "You worry too much about your -- Dumbledore's got an idea or two up his sleeve, I think, even if he's not telling yet. There'll be about a million things we can do, you know? And best of all, there'll be no one telling us what to do every second of the day. We'll finally be free." He spread his arms out. "I can't wait."
"I don't know," Remus said. "I like it here. I can't really imagine what it's going to be like ... I just like it here."
"I guess it's not the worst," Sirius said. He grabbed Remus's collar and pulled him down, lifting his throat for Remus's mouth.
Back in their room, Remus lay awake long after Sirius was snoring. A few hours before dawn he found himself standing by Peter's bed, the Altsomnio in his hand. He looked over his shoulder, but Peter was sleeping soundly. Peter wouldn't mind, though. After all, he'd offered to loan it to Remus. Remus shut the box quietly and went back to bed.
The small pillow was hard under his head, and Remus thought he'd have trouble getting to sleep. But it was scented with something soothing, lavender, or was that tea, or something else, and then he was standing in the dark, still, his legs braced wide and his head bent. He was waiting, for something, for what, he was waiting, and then the light hit him, hard and bright like the moon, and from the corner of his eye he saw Sirius leaning against a wall watching him, a beer in his hand, and then the noise of the crowd rushed him and he lifted his head and leaned into the microphone and howled.
Something was wrong, he felt that right away, a thin thread of worry beneath the hectic fever of the music. It was close, too close, the phase of the moon, and the feral need scratching at his skin from the inside, so close, but even as he thought that he knew it was his waking self thinking that, his other self, and then Radha shoved up against him, bass held out to her side, and yelled, "You're wild tonight," and then there was no waking self, no other self, just himself and he was singing, howling and he was wild tonight.
Tonight he was wild.
After, when the music had stopped everywhere but inside his ringing ears and his stinging skin, stretched too tight over the wild night inside him, after, he retreated backstage. The crew had left, and most of the band, all except Charles sitting dazed and dreamy-eyed as he smoked in the corner. "Take it outside," Remus said, and Charles smiled and raised a hand and drifted toward the hallway.
Remus pushed his dressing-room door open and Lily met him, bending over her swelling stomach to kiss his cheek. "You were amazing," Peter said, and shook his hand.
"Amazing," James said, but there was something doubtful in his voice, and Lily looked back over her shoulder first at James, then at Sirius, who was slouched against the mirror, another beer in his hand.
"Didn't you enjoy the show?" Remus said.
"Yeah, it was great," James said, "it's just ... isn't it -- hell, Remus, I know the two of you think you cooked up something that can control it. But just in case, shouldn't you -- are you sure you should be out? I mean, it's the full moon tonight."
"Oh, someone else has a calendar, too," Remus said, and dropped lightly into his chair.
James stepped toward him angrily, but Peter put a hand on his arm. "Come on," he said, "don't you think Moony knows what's safe for him to do? He's been doing this for a while now. All those restrictions back at school -- I always thought they might be a little ... extreme. Hogwarts is a pretty conservative place, after all, and we were kids, we didn't know how to do anything different. And even if for some crazy reason Remus did lose sight of his, I don't know --"
"Lunar challenges?" Sirius suggested.
"Yes, exactly," Peter said. "Even if he did, then you'd be here to stop him, right, Sirius? You'd know if he'd gone too far, wouldn't you?"
"Oh, wouldn't I," Sirius said.
James looked back and forth between Sirius and Remus. "I don't like this," he said, his face flushed and his hair pushed up messily. "I don't know what's going on, but I don't like this."
"Nothing for you to like or dislike," Sirius said. He met James's gaze steadily but didn't move, not even when James stormed out of the room. Peter hurried after James, calling his goodbyes, and Lily leaned down and kissed Remus again.
"Be careful," she said, and Sirius said,
"You don't have to tell me."
"I wasn't telling you," Lily said, and followed James and Peter out.
"Well, that was fun," Remus said.
"You shouldn't have invited them tonight," Sirius said. "Two nights ago or two nights from now, fine, but tonight you were just asking for trouble." He grinned suddenly. "And you know that's my job."
"Not your only job, happily," Remus said. He stood up and grabbed Sirius's shirt, pulling him down onto the sofa, one hand sliding around Sirius's hip.
"I feel like a groupie," Sirius said, and Remus said,
"Do you mind?"
"Actually, no," Sirius said, and when Remus opened his mouth to laugh Sirius kissed him.
Sirius kissed him, and it was like it was onstage, music and desire and a wilder craving twisting inside him, one long howl of need that drove right through him. It was like it was onstage but better, stronger, and Sirius was closer and there was no spotlight on him now but just the cold cruel light of the moon through the window.
"Aren't you afraid?" Remus said when Sirius pulled away from him, lying back on the sofa with his hair tumbled dark on the red cushions and his lips half parted. Sirius laughed and his mouth was wet and Remus said, "You should be afraid."
"Of you?" Sirius said, and Remus kissed him again, dropped his head to Sirius's shoulder while Sirius panted in his ear. Beneath Sirius's pale skin Remus could hear his blood surging, calling to him, howling, and Sirius said,
"I'm not afraid," and Remus put his teeth to Sirius's skin, just lightly, just for a moment. Sirius said, "I know you, and I know you wouldn't, you never would," and Remus bit down, hard, and Sirius's blood rushed to meet him as Remus howled.
Tonight he was wild.
Remus woke up cold, his chest heaving. He was breathing so loud he almost thought he would wake the others up, but the room was quiet and no one stirred. He got up and put the Altsomnio back in its box, then went back to bed and waited for morning to come.
The dream didn't leave him all day. It was stupid, he told himself, ridiculous really, dreaming of being a rock star like some dumb kid. The pillow was probably enchanted to give the dreamer a thrilling adventure, something to make him think he was special, extraordinary, capable of great things. Trust Peter to fall for a scam like that.
All day Remus told himself that, but late at night when the others were asleep he found himself standing in front of his bed with the Altsomnio in his hand. Another try, he thought, he'd give it another try, something to wash away the taste of the last dream. Tonight he'd give it another chance to show him another future, one that could actually happen this time. He went back to bed and waited to dream another life.
"Wait," Lily said. "Don't hurry me."
"I don't have much time," Remus said. "I'm meeting Hippolyta in an hour."
"You can't rush this potion. It's tricky." Lily turned the bowl between her hands slowly and said, "Here, hand me that truthsward."
Remus handed her the dull green leaves and Lily shredded them precisely, her eyes on her work. "You don't have to do this, you know."
"It's my job," Remus said.
"Anyone would understand -- everyone would understand if you didn't want this mission, though," Lily said. "I'm not convinced it's even ethical for you to take it. I'm surprised Dumbledore didn't --"
"Do you know what Dumbledore had to go through to get me this job? I don't, but I can begin to imagine. Don't you remember what old Holkyskin asked me before they hired me? He wanted to know how long it'd be before there was an article in the paper about the werewolf Auror who ate a Muggle baby -- and he wasn't just trying to rile me up. He was serious. That's what Dumbledore was up against, and if you think I'm going to give anyone one reason to say that he was wrong, that I can't do the job --"
"You've proven yourself," Lily said. "To Dumbledore, and everyone -- but this is awfully close to home."
"Not that close," Remus mumbled.
"What did Sirius say about it?" Remus didn't answer, and Lily put the bowl down and looked up at him. "Oh, Remus. You didn't tell him?"
"I can't," Remus said. "The mission is secret. I can't tell anyone."
"You told me."
"I needed your help. Did you tell James?"
"That's different."
"Oh, it's all right for you to keep secrets from him --"
"It's not his brother," Lily said, and Remus ran a hand through his hair.
"It's not like -- they're not exactly close. He's hated his brother, ever since ..." Remus sighed. "Besides, you think it would help if he knew ahead of time? And maybe -- there's a chance it's not what we think, it's not as bad --"
"You think that?"
"No," Remus said. "No, I don't."
"Me either," Lily said. "Here, give me your wand." She painted the potion on it carefully. "Be careful, and -- just be careful."
"Thanks," Remus said, and took his wand from her.
Hippolyta was waiting for him at the appointed spot, disguised as a ragged old woman. "They went inside ten minutes ago," she whispered. "Black and O'Mara, and a Muggle man as well."
"A Muggle? That's not a good sign," Remus said, and then they heard the screams.
He and Hippolyta rushed into the building, wands drawn. In what would have been the parlor of the abandoned house, the Muggle man was writhing, screaming as Regulus Black stood over him, one arm raised, a look of fascinated horror on his face as he watched.
"That's right," O'Mara wheezed, "that's right, Black, that's what we do to animals who defy us, who won't tell us what they know." The Muggle man went limp and the screaming stopped. "Good job, Black, and that's enough for now."
Regulus dropped his arm. O'Mara nudged the Muggle with his foot and he whimpered, trying to shield himself with his hands. "Ready to talk?" he said, and the man whimpered again and gibbered nonsense. "Ah, seems he can't talk any more. Useless trash, these Muggles -- their minds break so easily. All right, then, Black, you know what to do."
Regulus raised his wand again and his mouth opened for the curse. Without hesitation Remus drew his own wand and Regulus went flying back against the wall. He went pale, suddenly, even paler than usual, and his mouth leaked blood, but what struck Remus most was the look on Regulus's face. Regulus looked surprised, Remus thought, not shocked but simply surprised, as if a novel he was reading had taken an unexpected turn and he wasn't yet sure what he thought of it.
Behind him Remus heard O'Mara shriek in frustration and pain, but he didn't even look back as he walked across the room. When he reached the body slumped against the wall, he paused a moment before he could bring himself to touch it. Regulus's skin was still warm, of course, and as he put his fingers against Regulus's throat he thought for a moment he saw a pulse flutter, but it was just the trembling of his own hand. He closed Regulus's wide, calm eyes, and then turned to the Muggle. The poor man sobbed and shrank from Remus's touch, and Remus cast a soothing spell over him and left him on the floor.
"You should go home," Hippolyta said. She had disarmed and bound O'Mara while Remus had dealt with Regulus. "I'll take care of everything here, the clean-up crew and the reports. You'll want to ..." She touched his arm. "You should go home."
"Yes," Remus said. "Thank you. I should go home."
When he got home Sirius was still out, and Remus showered and changed and poured himself a drink. He was halfway through his second when Sirius came through the front door.
"Are you home?" Sirius called out from the hall. "I thought you were on duty tonight, something hush hush that we mere mortals can't ..."
His voice trailed off as he came into the room and saw Remus's face. "What's wrong?" he said from the threshold.
Remus told him. Sirius didn't say anything while Remus told him, didn't speak and didn't move, just grew paler with every word, paler than usual, as Remus told him. When Remus finished Sirius said, "Good," his mouth snapping tight and close over the word. "Good. I'm glad -- good."
Then he didn't say anything at all for a long time. Remus sat helplessly and watched him, breath rolling long and smooth through his chest, eyes dark and wide. Finally Sirius said, "What did he look like, when you -- when it happened?"
"He looked surprised," Remus said.
Sirius laughed suddenly, a taut choked sound. "Surprised, was he? Poor bugger, his whole fucking life was predictable as sunrise and still he was always surprised by it." He laughed again, then walked over to the window and stood looking out it. "Surprised," Sirius said, his back to Remus. "Bloody hell."
Sirius stood there for a long time and Remus watched him. Finally Sirius said, without moving, "I have to go out for a while. I'm going out."
"All right," Remus said. Then he said, "I'm sorry."
Sirius wheeled around. "I hated him," he said.
"I know," Remus said.
Sirius walked toward him, fast, and grabbed Remus's face in his hand tightly. Remus could feel Sirius's hand shaking. "You did the right thing. It had to be done, and I'm glad you ..." He stopped for a moment, and his hand stopped shaking. "I'm glad it's done," Sirius said. He let go of Remus and left the room. Remus heard the door swing shut behind him.
Remus sat silent in the silent room for a long, long time.
When Remus woke up Sirius was shaking him. "Come on, man, you're going to be late," he said.
Remus jerked away from his hand, and Sirius looked at him curiously. "I'm up," he said, but Sirius stood looking at him another minute before he shrugged and walked out. After Sirius left, Remus got up and put the Altsomnio back in its place. Nestled in its box the Altsomnio looked innocuous, even pretty in a fussy way, the type of thing someone's maiden aunt would have on her sofa. Remus pushed the cover down tight and shoved the box back under Peter's bed.
Again the dream chased him all day, haunting him at odd times, so that James looked at him curiously and Peter said, "You feeling all right -- you're not, uh, it's not the right time for, um, you know ..." until Sirius shoved him.
"I'm fine," Remus said, over and over, "I'm fine," out loud to James and Peter and silently to himself, until he was convinced of it. Still, he took the long way around to get to his extra tuition in Potions, avoiding the Quidditch pitch where a group of younger Slytherin kids were playing a pickup game, their voices ringing out clearly in the crisp air.
Remus stayed up late that night, playing Exploding Snap with Peter, James and Sirius until long after lights-out, but one by one his friends slipped away to sleep until Remus was alone. The little box was just visible, one corner sticking out from under Peter's bed, and Remus cursed himself as he walked over to it. He would've thought the last dream would put him off the Altsomnio for good, but he couldn't help hoping that the third try would be the charm. After all, dreaming of being an Auror was practically like dreaming of being a rock star, especially for him. He'd give it one more chance to show him a normal future, a real life.
"Anoop and I went out to lunch at that little place across the street, the Chinese place the Muggles run, and it was really surprisingly good. We didn't get back till two, but Featherstone was out all afternoon so we basically sat around all afternoon reading magazines hidden in file folders."
"That's nice," Sirius said without looking up from the paper. "It all sounds very nice, your nice little office job and your nice little office lunch and your nice little office buddy and your nice little office cardigan."
"It gets cold," Remus said mildly. "And hey, don't mock my nice little office job and my nice little office life, because it's pretty much the same as yours except that you don't have a nice little office buddy. You're known far and wide across the Ministry as a mean moody bastard, and I'm a saint for putting up with you."
"Ah, our Ministry colleagues. Known for their insight," Sirius said. He threw his paper down. "Doesn't it ever bother you?"
"Well, it's not the most exciting job in the world," Remus said. "But people really are nice -- shut up, some of us like that -- and you know, the Order had us placed there for a reason. One of these days we'll be needed, and until then, well, why not spend your day pleasantly?"
"I'd like to," Sirius said. "It's just impossible when I have to spend my day in an office."
"Ah, well, no one ever said a life of subterfuge and sabotage would be a thrill a minute."
"But there should at least be a thrill every million minutes or so, don't you think?" Sirius smiled. "Actually, though ..."
"What?" Remus said.
"Prongs and I have a little something ... well, just see if you can be over on the fifth floor on Monday around eleven."
"Sirius," Remus said. "We're meant not to draw attention to ourselves. We're infiltrating, remember?"
"I'm not going to draw attention to myself. There's just a little spell James found -- nothing major, just a little rain of frogs --"
"Sirius --"
"Oh, come on, you know Murdstain's as dark a Death Eater as they come, and what do I do about it? I sit there all day and I process his expense reports. What does the Order expect me to do, set him up for a tax fraud charge? But I say fine, until they give me permission I won't eliminate the man, but I can at least inconvenience him a little. Just once."
"This is important work," Remus said. "You can't just get bored and decide you're going to amuse yourself, no matter what the consequences. You shouldn't have taken the job if you weren't going to take it seriously."
"Oh, like you do? You take it so seriously you're practically in line for a promotion. Second Assistant Undersecretary of Bloody Nothing at All, look out! Remus Lupin is on his way up!"
"It's the Order's work I take seriously. The Order's, and Dumbledore's, even when I don't understand yet the full scope of that work."
"Spoilsport," Sirius said, and walked out of the room.
Remus let him go. Sirius was impossible when he was like this, and Remus wasn't in the mood for an evening of arguments or sulks. He thought he'd try convincing Sirius to let it drop the next morning, but Sirius pretended he didn't know what Remus was talking about and left early.
At lunch that day Remus wandered over to James and Lily's house. Lily was alone, as he'd hoped, and glad to see him. Over a pot of tea he told her about James and Sirius's plan. "Don't you think we should do something?"
"Do what?" Lily said. "I really think you're worrying over nothing. It's just a little rain of frogs, after all."
"Sure, now it's a rain of frogs. But what comes after that?"
"I don't know," Lily said. "Lizards?"
"It's just -- we're not supposed to be messing about, you know? Sirius could get himself fired, or worse, and all for what? A silly prank. I really think I ought to say something to Dumbledore." Lily didn't say anything. "What? If it really is nothing to worry about, Dumbledore will tell me. But if he thinks it is -- well, I don't think we should take the risk."
"I don't know," Lily said. "I just think -- well, I think it's important to be careful with these things."
"That's what I was trying to tell Sirius."
"I wasn't talking about Sirius," Lily said. She looked at him, that steady considering gaze that she'd always had, and Remus gathered up his cardigan and headed back to the office.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Sirius yelled as he stormed in the next evening.
"Thank you, I had a very nice day," Remus said. "And how was yours?"
"I'll tell you how mine was," Sirius said. "I got called on the carpet like a fucking fifth year and scolded -- scolded -- by Dumbledore, who had somehow heard that I was considering a little guerilla warfare with Murdstain. However do you think he heard that?"
Remus said, "I told him, of course. I couldn't let you and James risk the Order's work with some silly, childish --"
"Childish? Who's the one running to teacher like he's still a prefect? You have a problem, you talk to me, you don't go tattle to Dumbledore."
"I tried to talk to you, but sometimes it's just impossible, Sirius. And you leave me no other choice when you just refuse to listen."
"I don't refuse to listen," Sirius said. "I refuse to agree with you."
"Be that as it may," Remus said, "when you tell me you're planning something reckless, I have to act. I'm sorry if it upsets you, but I'm not sorry I did it." Sirius just looked at him. "You know, I know you don't want to hear this, but you should look on the whole thing as a learning experience. You're not at school any more, and if Dumbledore was so upset about your plan, then you know it wasn't right. You know --"
"You're right," Sirius said, and his voice was cold. "This has been a learning experience. I learned that I can't trust you with anything you might disapprove of. Anything you might think is reckless -- which is just about anything I might think of."
"That's not fair --" Remus said, but Sirius turned and walked out.
Remus almost dreaded Sirius's return. It was always impossible to predict what Sirius would do when he was angry, whether there'd be shouting matches or days of sulks. It was impossible to predict this time, too, because when Sirius came back home he acted like nothing had happened. He was a little quieter than usual, maybe, the first night, but after that he was the same as always, not cold or ostentatiously polite but just the same as ever. There were several nights in a row where he went out with James, but even though he didn't invite Remus he always made sure to tell him where he was going and how late he'd be. Maybe Sirius actually had learned something, Remus thought, maybe he was trying to act like an adult. And if he wanted to spend a little time alone with his best friend, Remus didn't have to tag along. He had plenty of friends of his own, he told himself, and the next time Anoop asked he went out with him and some of their friends from the office, just for a few drinks at a bar down the street.
They left Remus leaning against the doorbell, and Sirius laughed when he came to the door. "My life is a clich�," Sirius said.
Remus tried to laugh, too, but when he opened his mouth he threw up. "In the bushes, aim for the bushes," Sirius said, and helped him inside.
"Sorry," Remus said when he was tucked up in bed.
"I know," Sirius said, and handed him a glass of water. "Drink all of that, because you're going to be even sorrier tomorrow."
"No," Remus said, "I don't mean -- well, I am sorry I threw up, but ... I mean I'm sorry for what I did. With Dumbledore -- I'm sorry for telling."
"I know," Sirius said. "It's all right."
"You're not angry?"
"Not much point, is there? You can't help who you are -- you can't help telling. You're a good boy, that's all there is to it, and I -- no," Sirius said. "No, I'm not angry."
"Good," Remus said. "Come to bed," and Sirius laughed and took the glass away from him and came to bed.
The next morning Sirius was still acting like nothing had happened, but this time Remus could act that way too. He felt that way, too, almost all the time. Now Sirius and James invited Remus when they went out together, almost all the time. And if there were occasional whispered conversations that cut off when Remus walked into the room, or if an occasional silence fell just exactly when Remus returned from the bar with their drinks, well, that wasn't anything to worry about, surely. Some small prank, some childish trick the two of them still hadn't outgrown. Remus was better off not knowing, he was sure of that.
Almost.
The room was still dark as midnight when Remus sat up straight, awake, panting as if he'd just thrown off some heavy weight. He grabbed the Altsomnio and almost threw it back into his box. Then, quietly so he wouldn't disturb the others, he pulled on his clothes and went out into the night.
He found himself wandering by the lake, which was darker than the night with no moon to reflect off it. When he heard footsteps behind him he didn't turn around.
"It's a little disappointing," Remus said, "that I don't even have to ask how you knew where I was."
"What's got a good boy like you out of his bed at night?" Sirius said, and Remus spun around to face him. "What is it?" Sirius said suddenly.
"Nothing," Remus said. At his side his hand was shaking a little, but Sirius probably thought it was just because of the chill. "Just -- a bad dream, is all. Or not a dream, exactly, but something like -- or yes, I guess, I guess a dream."
"Well, now I'm curious," Sirius said.
"It's nothing," Remus said, "just -- just this thing, Peter gave me, or he didn't give it to me exactly but I kind of borrowed it but I don't think he'd mind, he told me I could." Sirius crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, clearly prepared to wait him out. Remus closed his eyes and told Sirius what he'd dreamt each night before.
"All right," Sirius said finally. Remus opened his eyes but Sirius's face didn't tell him anything. "I'm trying to be sympathetic and supportive here, but I have to tell you that I don't like the sound of this."
"I know," Remus said, "I know, it's --"
"It's disturbing is what it is."
"I know."
"I think that for once I'm really going to have to take some kind of serious action here," Sirius said. Remus looked at him anxiously. "I think I'm going to have to forbid you from joining Peter's self-improvement cult."
"Sirius --" Remus said.
"Moony, you dolt," Sirius said, "they were dreams."
"They weren't just dreams --"
"They were."
"They felt true," Remus said. "They felt like something that could be true. Like something that's going to be true."
"Well, they can't all of them come true," Sirius said. "What are the chances?"
"There was one thing," Remus said. "One thing, in all of them, that could come true."
"Oh, right," Sirius said. "Right -- you're going to fail me, or hurt me, or, or what was the other one? Eat me?"
"It's not funny," Remus said. "I -- they wouldn't be funny, if you were the one who dreamt them."
Sirius said, "No, I know they wouldn't be. But the thing is, no matter how real they seemed, they're not something you could ever do."
"I wouldn't have thought so," Remus said. "But if you can dream it, you can do it."
"Whose advertising slogan is that?"
"It's not just a slogan," Remus said. "It's the first step, you know. There are things you think you can't even imagine doing, but once you can imagine them, they don't seem so strange. They seem almost -- familiar. Like they're not only something you can do, but something you might do. Something that's waiting for you, somewhere out there in the future. Something you will --"
"You won't," Sirius said. "Sure you could, all of us could do anything, but -- you won't. I'm not worried about that."
"I am."
"I know," Sirius said. "But still, you know, they were only dreams." He paused a moment and said, "And even if they weren't, even if they were -- something else, I wouldn't be afraid. I never would be." He laughed a little. "I can't even imagine it."
"I can," Remus said, low, and Sirius took a step toward him and stood looking at him gravely.
"You can't trust in dreams," Sirius said, and Remus said,
"Maybe you can't."
"No," Sirius said. He smiled at Remus, and even beneath the weight of all the things he knew how to dream Remus couldn't help smiling back.
"No," Sirius said quietly, "it's not dreams I trust."
***