III
Charity stared at her colleague, her skin prickling. "He was here? Sirius Black?"
Aurora Sinistra placed a steady hand on her arm. "He attacked the Fat Lady, but she was strong. She didn't let him in."
"Is he still in the castle?" Charity asked, trying to keep her voice steady. The thought that Sirius Black had somehow got past the Dementors and into the school was terrifying. Although she was concerned for the students, she was also just as worried for Remus: she had to find him.
"I doubt it," said Aurora, eyeing her strangely. "But the Headmaster's asked everyone to search the castle. We can go together."
Charity shook her head to clear it of distracting thoughts. "Of course. Let's go." Then she paused. "What about the students?"
"They are all in the Great Hall." She chuckled. "Dumbledore conjured them sleeping bags. A rare Hogwarts sleepover, it seems."
Charity did not answer, but instead tried not to think about Remus as they began to walk the castle, wands raised. She has some idea of what Sirius Black being in the castle might mean to him, and though they had not talked about it much, she was worried about him: would he go looking for Black, seeking revenge? She desperately wanted to leave Aurora and find Remus, but knew her first duty was to the school and the students.
A thorough search of the school turned up nothing, however, and within hours Professor Dumbledore went to the Dementors to inform them that Black was no longer in the castle. Charity hurried toward Remus's rooms.
He was just leaving. He had his cloak and his wand and a grimly determined look on his face. He also looked tired, and she remembered that the full moon was later that week. He shouldn't be going out, not when he was clearly upset and fatigued. She hurried to stop him.
"Remus!" she exclaimed, taking his arm before he could walk away. "Wait. You can stop looking for him. He's not in the castle anymore."
Remus turned toward her, his eyes glinting fiercely. "He may still be in the area, however. And I know the area quite well."
Charity wasn't sure what he meant, but she still knew he couldn't go out alone. If Black had killed his friends and a dozen innocent Muggles with no regrets, he certainly wouldn't think twice about finishing things with Remus.
"It's not safe--" she started, but he waved away her protest.
"I told you before, I'm not afraid of Sirius Black. I know him."
"You thought you knew him," she replied, her tone deliberately sharp. She hoped it would bring him back to reality. "But no one expects their friend to be a cold-blooded killer, who just tried to break into the Gryffindor common room."
His eyes flared with anger, but he did not say anything. She placed her hands on his shoulders. "Please, Remus," she said softly. "You can't go after him. You know you can't."
He shrugged off her arms. "I can and I will. I have to stop him. I can't let him hurt Ha--" He stopped himself, lips pinched tightly as he glanced away.
"You can't let him hurt Harry," she finished. "I know. But please--let's go back inside and talk about this. There are obviously some things you haven't told me."
His head whipped around. "There's nothing left to tell. He killed James and Lily. I won't let him kill Harry."
"Then I'm going with you," she said, hoping that might stop him. He narrowed his eyes at her.
"No, you're not. He wouldn't hesitate to hurt you."
"And you think he'll stop and think before he raises his wand at you?" she snapped. That got to him, so she kept pushing. "He killed James and Lily and Peter and all those Muggles. What makes you think he won't kill you?"
"Maybe I don't care," he hissed under his breath, his face close to hers. She was shocked at the look of bitter pain and furious resentment on his face. And it made her angry as well: she literally turned him around and pushed him toward his door.
"Don't you dare speak like that, Remus Lupin," she said, her voice low. "You open that door right now and talk to me before you go running out of this castle with a death wish."
"I don't have a death wish," he snapped, turning his head around to glance at her over his shoulder. "I just want--"
"--to risk your life because you're still pissed off at Sirius Black."
"Of course I am!" he practically shouted. "You would be too if he ruined every--"
"Open the door," she interrupted, sorely tempted to take out her wand and hold it to his back. But surprisingly enough, he responded to something in her voice and reluctantly unlocked his door. They entered the dark room together. Charity lit a single lamp with her wand and then motioned him toward the same chairs where they had sat and talked during his first night at Hogwarts. This would be a much different talk, however.
Remus did not sit down; instead, he paced before the fireplace while Charity sat and watched. After several minutes of running his hand through his hair, he finally turned to her and sighed, sounding more exasperated than anything.
"I don't know whether to thank you or shout at you some more," he said.
"As I'd rather not be shouted at," Charity replied, "I'll take the thank-you."
He stared hard at her before throwing himself into the other chair, elbows on his knees as he gazed into the fire. "The thing is, I should be looking for him. I should be the one to stop him."
"Stop him from getting to Harry?" she asked, and when he nodded, she continued. "Why is he after Harry? How do you know?"
Remus leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "Dumbledore told me, and he's had it from the Minister."
"But why?" Charity pressed. She sensed that although they had talked about Sirius Black when they had met at the Three Broomsticks, Remus still hadn't told her everything, and she felt like he needed to tell her more and unburden himself before he did something rash.
"He killed James and Lily," Remus replied, as if that answered everything.
"I know that…but why would he want to kill their son? To finish the job?"
He inclined his head and remained silent. Charity thought for a moment, then leaned forward to touch his knee.
"Remus, why is it your responsibility to find him? Why do you feel so guilty?"
He gazed at her with dull eyes. "Because it's my fault, Charity. It's all my fault."
"How?" she asked, shaking her head in confusion. "You didn't kill your friends, you didn't kill those people on the street that day--"
"I didn't see it in him!" Remus exclaimed, jumping up once more in agitation. "I thought maybe--maybe he was the spy, maybe he was the one leaking information to Voldemort, but I couldn’t bring myself to really believe it, and I certainly couldn't bring myself to confront him."
"Remus--" she started, but he kept going, as if he couldn't stop.
"Maybe they would all still be alive if I had said something, done something--Peter, James, Lily. All those Muggles and how many others? Dead because of me!" He actually turned toward the hearth and laid his head on the mantle. His breathing was quick, as if he was refusing to give in to either anger or tears.
Charity stood and walked over to him, hesitated, then slowly began rubbing his back. At first he tensed, then slowly he began to relax. He was still thin, but well-built and wiry, and she could both feel and sense a strength in him that went deeper than he probably knew. He had not broken twelve years ago, and he would not break now.
"It's not your fault," she said, speaking quietly but firmly so as not to agitate him more. "It never was and never will be. And neither is it your responsibility to right the terrible wrong he committed. It was none of your doing." He stood up straight to look at her, but his face was blank.
"You were his friend," she continued, this time letting compassion color her voice. "Of course you didn't want to believe such a thing about him, who would? You trusted him. You were loyal. The most important thing you can do now is watch over Harry, not throw your life away."
"Sometimes I just want to know why," he whispered, running a hand across his eyes. "I want to find him and ask him why." He paused and looked away. "Before I kill him."
She reached out and turned his cheek back toward her. "You might ask him, but you wouldn't kill him. You're not that kind of man, Remus."
"You don't know that," he said, and though he sounded angry, there was no real venom behind his words anymore, just pain. "He was supposed to protect them, keep their secret with his life. Instead, he betrayed them to Voldemort. He killed Peter. He condemned his Harry--his godson--to a terrible life." Remus swallowed and nodded. "He deserves to die. You know he does."
Charity didn't know what to say. In many ways, she did think Remus was right. Sirius Black was a wanted criminal who had ruined so many lives, what right did he have to live free, especially when he was still trying to hurt people? And yet what right did anyone, even Remus, have to take another life for the purpose of justice and revenge? Would it really ease his conscience, his guilt?
She didn't know.
And so she stepped closer and merely offered her support. She wrapped her arms around him, until gradually he relaxed into her embrace, and his breathing slowed down. Soon he even wrapped his arms around her, and she wasn't sure who was holding who, but she liked it, and she felt that odd catch in her breath as she started thinking and feeling things she probably shouldn't--not then, not there. Not that night, in that state.
So she pulled back, determined to end the embrace and put some distance between them, but he did not let her go, instead gazing into her face with a look of sadness and gratitude. He leaned closer, and whether he realized he was running his tongue over his lips, she wasn't sure, but she noticed, and Merlin she wanted to press her lips to his right then, only how could she, when he was clearly so upset?
"Thank you, Charity," he said, so softly she could barely hear him; his voice was hoarse.
"I'm not sure what for," she replied, trying to keep her voice light, though she could hear the uncertain shake in it. "But you're welcome."
"For finding me," he replied, and one hand came up and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. When had that come loose? His fingers lingered on her neck, and she sucked in a silent breath at his gentle touch as goose pimples traveled up and down her arms.
"For stopping me," he continued. "For listening." He was staring so deeply into her eyes that she felt almost hypnotized by his gaze. She knew perfectly well she was wetting her own lips now, but she couldn't help it. She had liked him from the first day she had met him, and had wanted to kiss him--really kiss him--since the night they had met at the Three Broomsticks. She just wasn't sure he felt the same.
She was fairly certain now that he did, from the way he was looking at her, touching her, still holding her, but was it the right time? He had been upset, and she had come to comfort him, not for anything else. Yet as his head moved toward her, she tilted her face upward and told herself that maybe it didn't matter, that night. Maybe he needed her…and maybe she needed him.
When their lips met, tentatively at first and then with growing passion, she knew deep down it was right. And as they stumbled toward his bed, falling into the dishelved blankets with kisses that grew more and more heated, she threw caution to the wind and embraced it for whatever it was, even if it was only for one night.
* * *
Almost by Gmariam
Chapter Endnotes: I wish I had some smut for you Carole, but it just felt better off page, sorry! But at least you got a birthday hookup. *snigger*
There will be more next week - thank you so much for reading and reviewing, now go to EquinoxChick's author page and leave her a review!