This Is The Part - HP fic - PG13

[tigriswolf]

Title: This Is The Part
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: not my characters.  just for fun.
Warnings: I have yet to read HBP.  I doubt I ever will.
Pairings: Sirius/Remus
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 983
Point of view: third
Notes: Sirius' thoughts at the end of OotP.

This is the part where you die. 

- 

Given a choice between eternity and instant death, Sirius thinks he’d pick death.

Not that he’s given a choice, of course. It’d have been nice, though.

-

James and Remus and Peter and Sirius—the Marauders, teacher’s worst nightmares, and the best of friends. Remus the smart one, James the charismatic one, Sirius the crazy one, and Peter the follower.

 Peter the traitor, James the dead, Sirius the mad, and Remus the only one left in the end. Remus the gentle despite the beast, Remus the sweet, Remus the best of them all.

If things had gone differently, if James and Lily hadn’t died, if Sirius hadn’t been framed and convicted in the non-trial, if he hadn’t gone to jail—what-if’s and could-have-been’s litter the floor around them, and it’s too late.

It’s too late and he never gets the choice.

-

Thoughts of Remus, of James and Lily, of Harry keep him sane those years. Of course, they’re quickly stolen by the dementors, leaving him freezing and aching for warmth, and then only the surety of his innocence kept him from joining his jail-mates in the realm of madness.

And vengeance. Peter… Sirius was not the kindest of the four; Remus held that mantel and wore it well. James, too, had a sort of honor about him. Snape alone was the target for his cruelty. And Peter—he’d always seemed so… helpless. Defenseless.

But Sirius came from a Dark family and had honed his temper at a young age. Deep in his soul, he knows he hasn’t fully escaped the grasp of the Blacks, and when he finally gets out of Azkaban…

Not even the dementors can fully steal the joy he gets from the thought of catching up with Peter.

-

All his life, Sirius wondered why. Why his family followed Voldemort so blindly, why they looked down at muggleborns and ‘half-breeds,’ why they never gave anyone a chance.

So when he met James and Remus and Peter, he felt vindicated. He and James clicked first, far too alike and yet completely different. Same sense of humor, same beliefs, same dreams—best friends from the moment their eyes met at the train station.

Remus shuffled into the car they’d claimed, robes old and faded, a book clutched in his hands. He spared them only one glance before sitting, flipping through the pages, and losing himself in the novel. James and Sirius looked at each other and shrugged before resuming their conservation—Sirius can’t really recall it, but it had something to do with Quidditch.

They didn’t meet Peter until the Sorting, when Sirius and Remus had sat next to each other, waiting for James. Not that Sirius and Remus were friendly, yet—but space was reserved for the first years and Sirius was the first one Sorted into Gryffindor that year.

A Black in Gryffindor. He’d be disinherited for sure.

-

And so life went. The four of them, best of friends for almost no reason at all. James and Sirius were both the leaders; Remus mostly stood on the sidelines, shaking his head and holding a book. Peter toddled in their wake, always sure they’d get caught.

Remus revealed as a werewolf—no problem. James and Sirius, heralded as the most powerful wizards of their generation, learned to change their shape at will, one into a stag and the other a giant dog. They helped Peter, and he became a rat.

With hindsight, Sirius laughs for days.

-

If given the choice, Sirius would die for James. For Peter. For Remus—for Remus most of all.

But Peter betrayed and James died fighting and Remus faded and Sirius was thrown away, cast off, cursed and hated.

If given the choice, Sirius would have sacrificed anything for James and Lily and Harry. Anything but Remus.

But he had no choice, no chance. Locked away in Azkaban without a trial, without hope.

James dead. Remus missing.

Peter free.

-

This is the part where you die. 

-

How Sirius and Remus fell together is something he’s never understood. He and James were friends and nothing more, the best of friends, closer than brothers; Peter was almost asexual, never showed interest in anyone or anything, to Sirius’ knowledge. But Remus…

When and where Sirius fell in love, he doesn’t know. Maybe for always.

He’s never believed in destiny or fate. Always thought everyone had a choice in everything they did.

So Peter chose Voldemort over a friendship the rest thought ran deeper than blood. So James chose to fight, and Lily chose to fight, and Sirius chose to track Peter down and avenge them.

He should have chosen to go to Remus, should have realized the one he loved more than life wouldn’t be the traitor, should have trusted him.

There is no such thing as destiny.

-

Looking at James’ son, Sirius sees nothing but lost time. Years gone, unable to be reclaimed. Lily’s eyes, James’ wicked smirk, and a knowledge neither of his parents had until they were older.

They died too young. Harry’s life has been too hard.

Looking at Remus, Sirius wants to collapse into his arms and rest. But Peter still breathes, and James is long gone.

-

Do you remember? he wants to ask Remus. Do you remember how happy the four of us were? How free?

Bellatrix throws a curse and he dodges back, expecting to fall against a wall, to catch his breath.

Do you remember how we swore forever? Do you remember the smell of the earth and the touch of the breeze and how our laughter filled the air?

Instead of hitting a wall, he keeps going backwards.

Lily’s eyes follow him into the abyss.

-

This is the part where you die. 

-

There is no choice.

Sirius falls.

Do you remember… remember me… 

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[tigriswolf]

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