mooncurâ:
Theyâve got a short leash on him. Remus canât claim to be surprised, not after what he did - absolute silence for months near forces The Order to keep a closer eye on him, but the trade off is steep. Not being there, with James and Sirius - not being allowed to help - he hasnât been able to sit still. Not since the others headed out. He had tried to do something useful, folding blankets and fluffing pillows and washing dishes by hand, but tasks had run short and something inside of him could not stay still, so Remus had taken to pacing. Skulking through the house, feeling all too much like a caged animal.
Itâs the sound of a key in the door that has him lurching to the couch, trying to look less - less wild. More like the settled figure he projects, less of a risk, less like someone about to outstay their welcome in a home already full enough without him. Itâs the sort of talk Remus knows James and Lily would bat away and insist against, but he knows he canât stay too much longer. No one wants a stray - even friends. Heâs only just settling against the cushions when Jamesâ appearance has him lurching up again.
âWhat happened?â Itâs Sirius. Remus knows already - even without knowing what happened, without having to be told. That look on Jamesâ face is reserved just for Sirius. Something went wrong. Remus is across the room in an instant, though he holds back at the last moment, hands hanging useless by his side.
Stepping back into the cottage, James finds himself squinting against the soft glow of several lamps in the living room and his gaze falls to his watch, noting the late hour. Remus had stayed up. And, he guesses, judging from the state of the house, had been anxious tidying. James knew that things had been hard on Remus, that since his return people had been treating him with kid gloves and as if he couldnât be trusted - something James knew would be pricking at a very deep insecurity inside the other man.
And normally, James would do his best to soothe his friend. That no matter his conflicted feelings about Remusâ behaviour and choices, he would want him to feel safe and loved and appreciated.
That was, of course, however, the role of a James who had not just spent the last few hours beside what could have been Siriusâ deathbed. This James was far, far more frazzled.
Glancing down at the blood smeared down the front of his shirt, James lifts a hand and carelessly rakes it through his hair, tugging tightly on the strands as he does so. âMission went badly,â he says, eyes watching the cautious way Remus approaches him, âI donât know, I wasnât there. He was paired with Fabian and Lily. Bellatrix got him.â
Thereâs no need for more words. He and Remus both know exactly the vendetta that Bellatrix Lestrange held for her estranged cousin.
âHeâs fine now, heâs at Mungoâs. Heâs awake, or he was...Lily made me come home,â James says, voice cracking with the effort, âWe almost lost him, Moony.â









