"Verso en Blanco", Harry Potter (Marauders), PG, Sirius/Remus.

[gorgeousnerd]

Title: Verso en Blanco
Fandom: Harry Potter (Marauder-era/First War)
Rating: PG for mildly disturbing themes.
Length: About 2100 words.
Characters/Pairings: Sirius/Remus.

Summary: Sirius had seen all kinds of war injuries, but he never imagined one could be so devastating.

Notes: For dogdaysofsummer, prompt 20. Click here for the original post, here for the post in chomalfoyfics, and here for the story on AO3.


Verso en Blanco
Sirius blocked a spell that came his way. It was red, so the Death Eaters weren't pulling out the big curses yet. So much the better.

With a flourish, he Stunned one of the masked figures coming toward the line. He Petrified another that appeared when the first fell.

He heard a bunch of pops, and he glanced over the top of his rock. Normally, the sound meant one of two things: retreat, or reinforcements. Happily, this seemed to be the first; the area was empty of all the Death Eaters.

The gang jumped to their feet and cheered.

Sirius clapped James on the shoulder. "Well done, mate."

"You're the hero," James said, grinning. "We covered your back."

"Sure, sure." He looked around. "Where's Remus?"

James took a glance. "Dunno."

Their faces fell immediately. They jogged back toward Frank, who was holed up inside a deserted house. Sirius couldn't feel his feet under him.

"Remus," Sirius said immediately. "He's--"

"Alive," Frank said. "But he was hit, and it wasn't a simple patch job. He's probably at St. Mungo's by now."

James put an arm around Sirius to brace him. "What happened?"

"I wish I knew," Frank said. "But he didn't have any surface wounds."

Sirius met James's eyes. "Let's go."

–

St. Mungo's was quiet this time of night, even with the influx of injured. Sirius had paid many visits recently, but none had filled him with the same creeping terror he was feeling this time. The near-silence didn't help.

James went to the front desk, and they directed him to triage.

Mediwizards rushed around the triage area in silence. The only noise was from their robes catching the air, giving them an odd ghostly quality. One approached Sirius and James, took one look at Sirius's face, and asked, "Injury or visit?"

"Report on Remus Lupin," James said.

The wizard pointed toward the back. "He's stable. We're just waiting for him to wake up."

Remus lay still behind a curtain. It wasn't the sort they reserved for the horrific injuries; Sirius could see his outline through it. It was more like he was veiled than blocked from view.

"James," Sirius said. He couldn't say more.

Luckily, James knew what he meant. He pulled the curtain back and stood aside. Sirius brushed by and bent over Remus.

"Remus," he whispered. "Can..."

Remus sighed, and Sirius rose a little. It wouldn't do any good to startle him if he awakened. But his eyes remained closed.

Sirius looked up at James.

"This might be a while," he said. "You should go home."

"No," James said. "I'd rather be here."

If Sirius had been feeling normal, he would have had some show of emotion: tears, a smile, something. But all he could do was nod and turn back to the bed.

–

After three hours, and watching James nap, Sirius noticed Remus stirring. He spotted tell-tale signs that hadn't change with whatever curse Remus was hit with, such as the way he bent and stretched his legs slowly. Sirius shook James awake, which took only a moment, and James was off to find one of the St. Mungo's staff.

Remus opened his eyes. He didn't look over toward Sirius, or to the wall on his right; he stared at the ceiling and blinked heavily.

Sirius took a breath, but before he could say anything, a mediwizard appeared.

"Remus?" she asked. "Remus Lupin?"

Remus's head turned. He blinked heavily at the wizard. "What?"

"Your name's Remus, correct?"

He furrowed his brow. "I don't know."

–

Before that night, Sirius had known practically nothing about Memory Charms besides the fact of their existence. During that night, and in the days after, he learned more than any civilian would want to want to know.

The Healer-in-Charge of the Spell Damage floor, an older fellow with greying black hair and a bit of a lisp, sat with Sirius and James in the tearoom and explained the basics.

The Death Eaters, he said, favored strong Memory Charms as a means to reduce forces and overwhelm the medical system. They Stunned their victims beforehand to make it harder to diagnose; unconsciousness could be a sign of many different spells and curses, some of which couldn't have any kind of intervention without severe damage or death. By the time the victims awakened on their own, most of the basic measures to prevent permanent memory loss became useless.

The mediwizard went on to say it wasn't hopeless. Remus had awakened soon enough that they were able to recover the mechanisms that made basic memory possible, so it was likely he wouldn't have too many problems retaining new memories. He'd be able to manage hygiene and cooking and so on.

The lycanthropy, on the other hand, was an untested variable that could make all of their previous research and experience useless.

Sirius and the wizard discusses options. Rather, the wizard gave Sirius options, and Sirius gave him the only answer he could. There was no way he'd leave Remus at St. Mungo's permanently, surrounded by strangers and locked in a cage once a month.

If he was going to take him, the wizard said, he'd have to do in two days. It was shorter than their normal observational period, but the full moon was impending.

Sirius agreed.

–

Some three hours after Remus awakened, Sirius was alone with him.

"How are you feeling?" Sirius asked.

Remus didn't appear frightened – he'd always been brave – or confused, but he seemed guarded. Like he was talking to a stranger.

"Fine," Remus said. "You're my friend, I take it."

Sirius ignored the lump in his throat. "Yes. I'm Sirius Black."

Remus nodded like it meant something, even though they both knew it didn't. "Sirius. We've known each other some time?"

"Since school," Sirius said. "About a decade now."

"Decade, that's..."

"Ten years," Sirius replied. He wondered if Remus knew anything of measures of time.

The numb feeling was starting to be replaced. Sirius felt his breath come up short and shuddering, but he tried to talk around it.

"I can answer any questions," he said. "If you can think of any."

"I don't know where to begin."

"What have they told you?"

Remus leaned back on his pillow. "My full name. And that I'm well."

"Besides the obvious," Sirius added wryly. "I guess I should fill you in."

He told Remus the beginnings: the basic makeup of his family, where he'd lived, school. He left out a lot of details; the wizard had told him Remus needed to know everything, but Sirius didn't want to shock him or break any lines of trust. Remus was going to be dependent on him.

Remus asked one of the big questions on his own, just as the sun was coming up.

"Why do I have so many scars?" he asked. "Am I a warrior?"

Sirius's lips stretched, but he had a feeling it wasn't a pleasant expression. "We're in a war right now, and you've done your part. But the scars...you were attacked when you were little."

"Attacked? By what?"

"A werewolf."

Remus gave a shaky smile. "But that would make me a werewolf, wouldn't it?"

Sirius didn't reply.

"Oh," Remus said. He started to cry.

Sirius told himself that Remus had to relearn everything, and that the tears meant nothing. But he felt something very basic that he'd end up feeling frequently.

Hatred.

-

The first full moon went without incident. If anything, it was the most normal event in Sirius's life for the past week. Moony was Moony, and Padfoot was Padfoot. That didn't change.

However, the way Remus wept when he awakened the next morning was not normal.

"It hurts," he gasped. "Help me."

Sirius couldn't explain the nuances of the werewolf curse. Remus wouldn't understand. Instead, he shook his head and made himself hear every sob and cry.

–

For months before the attack, Sirius had wished the war would end so he and Remus could spend time at his cottage in the country. He never knew it would happen like this.

Remus couldn't be left alone. He forgot how to stand every now and again, and sometimes, he'd fall to the floor just when Sirius turned his back. He forgot how to eat once a week, which either resulted in a mess all over the table or staring at his silverware without touching it. He stopped talking in the middle of sentences, and he wandered out of the room without explanation.

James and Lily took turns showing up during the weeks to bring Sirius supplies. After two visits, Lily sussed out Sirius's mood and watched Remus at every successive visit. Sirius hated it – he couldn't check up on Remus until his return, and shopping seemed so useless – but he did need it. And he hated himself for needing it.

Weeks became months, and things improved somewhat. The forgetful moments were fewer and far between, which made them worse when they did appear. Remus cried less when he was frustrated, and he treated Sirius like an acquaintance instead of a stranger.

Sirius thought of his friends fighting and wished with every fibre of his being that he could be there.

–

In August, Sirius went to bed wondering if they could sleep in different rooms.

When they'd first moved in, back in March, Sirius had replaced the king in the master bedroom with two queens at opposite sides of the room. He'd wanted to sleep in a smaller, less empty bed, but Remus had needed the room to kick and thrash at night, and he hadn't had the will to purchase two separate beds. He endured the lonely feeling, and Remus's odd hours, and the occasional screams in the night.

But by August, Remus stopped messing his sheets and started sleeping eight hours straight, and Sirius wanted to stop staring at him while he waited for something to be wrong. He wondered if he could endure having space all his own, and if Remus would be okay being alone.

On August 20th, Remus shook Sirius awake at two in the morning.

"I had a dream," he said.

Sirius blinked heavily. "A bad dream?"

"There was a lot of white. And blue." Remus wasn't mixing up his colours anymore, so Sirius trusted him. "Water was hitting the white. It didn't look like the ground outside."

Sirius felt his breath catch. "Was it a beach?"

"Beach." Once, his vocabulary was the strongest of anyone Sirius had known, but he sometimes needed to be told what "grass" and "bowl" meant. "Sand. Yes, a beach."

White sand. Could Sirius dare to hope?

"I know a beach like that," he said. "Do you want to go?"

Remus's face lit up. "I was happy there, in the dream."

Sirius wanted to touch Remus more than he ever had. But he clasped his blanket with both hands and said, "Sleep. I'll take you in the morning."

–

They Apparated on the beach at about ten. Remus had only Apparated twice since the attack – once to Sirius's London flat to get some things, and once to the cottage – but he managed not to vomit this time. Sirius couldn't muster any gratitude or relief over it.

The sun hit the sand directly, and it glowed under Sirius's feet. He winced; he'd been outside so little lately that the light was too much.

Remus, on the other hand, let go of Sirius's arm and walked toward the surf. Sirius followed.

"Don't go in," Sirius said. "It isn't safe."

Without any warning whatsoever, Remus turned and kissed Sirius full on the lips. Sirius was so surprised that he froze, and Remus pulled back.

"Catch me if you can, Pads!" Remus cried, grinning madly, and whirled around. He ran three steps, stopped, and turned to Sirius.

"The beach." The smile disappeared completely. "We were here before."

"What was that?"

"We..." Remus touched his lips. "You weren't just a friend. To me."

"You remembered?" Sirius was fully aware he sounded dumb.

"But you didn't tell me," Remus said. "It was important, wasn't it?"

A tear trickled down Sirius's cheek. "Very important."

"What does Pads mean?"

"A nickname."

"Pads?"

"Padfoot."

"Who was I?"

Sirius blinked hard. "Moony."