Unofficial Portkey Archive

AN- another one shot, I was just so motivated by my other one. So let me know what you think. I think this is angst, but some may be comedy. All in all, it's bittersweet. Basically, as the summery said, Remus has to deal with Sirius's old things, the things hidden in his friend's rooms. They bring back memories of things that were, and ultimately change Remus's outlook on life. I'm not sure if I like it or not, it's not what I usually write. Let me know what you think if you want because I really love reviews! Thanks!

Disclaimer- SIRIUS BLACK IS ALIVE! But that's what would've happened if I were JK Rowling. As it is, I'm just a fan of the lovable Padfoot, so I have to come to terms with his death, as does poor Remus. How could she do this to our favorite wolf? (Sobs.) Anyways, like I said, if I were JK he would live. As it is, I'm not her. There. I don't own any of it.

Remus Lupin sat on the dusty floor of the biggest bedroom in number twelve, Grimmauld Place. At least physically. His body was there, cross-legged, and going through a few old boxes of random, seemingly worthless things. Things that brought back more memories than seeing the reincarnation of your dead best friend every day in the form of a hero, who happens to be your dead best friend's son.

Life really wasn't fair, and he could attest for it.

A pair of clown shoes, from a Halloween a long time ago. A card from Christmas with James and Lily, showing James smiling and tickling Lily, who would in turn laugh and slap his shoulder. An empty can of paint…

"You think Evans'll ever see it?" James asked, watching. He may have his own quarters as Head boy, but there was always room for him with the Marauders. He wasn't always welcome with Lily. Now was one of those times.

Not that it stopped him from wanting her to admire their handiwork.

"How can she? She doesn't go up to the boys dorms." Remus pointed out, while they watched Sirius paint the words over the seventh-year boys dorms. When the words were finished, Remus flicked his wrist, and the words glowed in the dim light, a message to remind everyone. `A lion is nothing without its pride.' Everyone in Gryffindor would think of it as a trait, Gryffindor pride, but the Marauders thought of it like Remus thought of Sirius, James and Peter. His pack, his family, his pride.

"So if lions have prides, and badgers mates, and ravens flocks-" Peter began.

"Ravens don't have flocks." Sirius said smartly, coming down from the latter. "Do they?" Here he lost his balance, and as he fell, he searched for anything to hold onto. As it was, there was only the latter, so with him came the bucket of magical golden paint.

As predicted, the can fell directly on Remus's head. Shining paint stung his eyes, and poured thickly down his back. His robes were ruined, every inch of them a metallic gold. Flicking the paint off of his fingers, he heard the others laughing.

"Hey, Moony? Uh, you've got paint on you." Sirius said, fighting to hold the laughter in. "it's um, right there. And right there, and…Moony?" a low growl came in reply from under the can, which was still over Remus's head, down to his jaw.

"Hey, Padfoot?" James said, noticing the animal noise. "Run."

"Why?" Sirius asked, calming down finally. Remus could tell James was smirking by the tone in his voice.

"It doesn't have to be the full moon for Remus to kill."

Remus smiled at the memory. He had chased Sirius down to the common room, where Professor McGonagall had caught them, and each had been issued a detention they had never attended, because both had had reasons to get away.

The paint hadn't come out of Remus's already golden strands for weeks, making Sirius laugh and Remus growl every time he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. But truthfully, it had always been a private joke between them; something that had been so important Sirius had kept the can, saying that should anyone need a dye-job, all they had to do was give him the magical paint and the ladder.

The secret was carried on year after year, not to touch the paint of the Marauders, and when he'd been teaching at Hogwarts, he'd seen for himself the letters they had written so long ago. In the span of Hogwarts time, it wasn't that long, only twenty-odd years ago, but it had already quickly become a legend.

Remus, breathing quickly, in ragged breaths, put the can aside.

But he wouldn't throw it away.

A candy from Hogsmeade, a chew-toy James had gotten Sirius for Christmas one year, the bride from the top of Lily and James's cake…

"Smile." Both newly weds did so, Lily cutting the cake with care, James with his big hands over her small ones. Remus laughed with everyone else when Lily daintily fed James the cake, and Jake stuffed it into her mouth, and onto her face.

Her eyelashes were now flecked with white icing, and the look of surprise on her face was priceless. Sirius must have agreed, because he took another picture right then. Lily took a moment to recover from the shock, then opened her mouth in dismay before picking up a piece of cake and dropping it over James's head.

"FOOD FIGHT!" the call came, unsurprisingly, from Sirius, who had immediately taken up on his own advice, and thrown cake at Professor McGonagall, who he had never gotten along with. To everyone's surprise, she wiped it off her robes, but picked some chips up from another table nearby and threw them back.

It was luck the wedding was a small one, because afterwards, everyone had to change, or leave. Even Professor Dumbledore, who had taken the time to come, had been unable to find cover, although Remus thought Dumbledore looked like he didn't mind throwing the food in self-defense in the least. It had had to end when James had `tripped' and spilled the pitcher of punch down Michelle's lavender bridesmaids dress.

Here, Remus found a fragment of lavender fabric, and he could guess where it came from. It was stained, and old and frayed, but tears were forming in Remus's eyes because of it. Here he was, remembering the things he had been able to bury for years after James and Lily's death. But seeing Harry two years ago had abruptly brought an end to that silence, and the rush of memory and wave of hurt and betrayal had come back in full force. After twelve years of nothing new happening in Remus's life, something huge had happened.

He had gained another marauder again.

And just as abruptly as he had gained that marauder, his friend, his only family left, had been ripped away again, and he was alone in the pack.

Forcing the pain back again, Remus continued to pull things out of the old cardboard box. But he set the fabric and wedding cake reminder aside. They wouldn't be touched either.

A box of moldy old dog biscuits, (another James gag gift,) a fake snake that could be charmed to move, (though Lily had thought it was real when she had seen it in her bed,) a box of firecrackers, a half-melted cauldron…

"You try it." Peter insisted, holding his nose.

"Why wont you try it, Pete?" James asked, but he too was holding his nose at the smell. The potion in front of them was bubbling, green, and thick, so it was understandable that no one wanted to touch it.

"Because I know Sirius's potions abilities." The boy replied matter-of-factly. Remus smiled at how annoyed Sirius looked. The look didn't work with his laughing eyes. He couldn't help but add,

"What abilities?" Which made three of the Marauders laugh and Sirius scowl.

"Fine." He said, darkly looking at Remus. "Let me die."

"Better you than us." James replied, his hazel eyes laughing as hard as his friends. So Sirius, nose pinched between his fingers, dipped the goblet into the potion and drank. Instantly he cried out in pain, screaming. I was about to run for a teacher when the screams became howls, and a black dog stood proudly in front of us, on Sirius's bed.

James and Peter's potions had looked much better, but neither had managed a successful transformation on their first try. (Though when Remus thought back on it, neither had had quite as painful transformations. Maybe Sirius, being overly dramatic, had been faking?)

And seeing Sirius stuck in half-transformation afterwards, when he had tried to become human again, dog-eared and bright-eyed, had been worth it. It had taken week for the Marauders to settle down and stop teasing poor Sirius about his protruding black tail, and even then the joke had remained when there had been nothing else to talk about.

He couldn't throw the cauldron away either, nor could he fix it. It symbolized his transformations.

Instead he pushed aside the box filled with stuff from the time where the Marauders where still faithful, loyal, and sixteen, and focused on the things Sirius had kept since returning from Azkaban.

Pictures of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. A notebook that looked like a diary, which Remus wouldn't ever read. It would mean that Sirius couldn't yell at him for it, that Sirius was truly dead. He couldn't ever open that notebook. And a picture of Fred and George Weasley… now there was a memory…

"What are you two planning?" Sirius asked, as he and Remus slunk up to the Weasley twins, who looked like they were bound for trouble. Ever since they had become of age, trouble and chaos had been reigning anywhere near them, probably the reason Sirius liked to talk to them.

Both boys knew well that Sirius wouldn't tell, as he'd often helped them on their jokes, helped them come up with ideas, but Remus had once been a teacher, and so they glanced at him suspiciously until they were reassured by Sirius that anything said was confidential. "Well…" One twin, (Fred or George, Remus really couldn't tell. They were identical to the last freckle,) began. "We wanted to get back at Percy without mum finding out,"

"Because you know how she'd react to us pranking him," the other cut in.

"Not that we haven't before." The first twin hastily assured them. "But he's not anywhere near us anymore, so we were thinking about how best to send it to him."

Neither of the twins knew it, but the Marauders had been faced with a similar dilemma once. How best to send Regulus his Christmas present, Remus remembered. "What you do is slip the prank in a nice-looking box, but put several containment and securing charms on it and…" The conversation continued for a while, all of them talking about what would be best to put in the box, and who they would say it were from. By the end of the conversation, both Fred and George Weasley, it seemed, had a better respect for Remus, not that they hadn't been kind before. But they no longer viewed him as an old teacher. In fact, they thought he was a mastermind, a thought only more pronounced when both Sirius and Remus stood up.

Then Sirius got that look. He gave Remus a look, and said, "I'll be right back, stay here. I need to record the next moment for posterity's sake." What he meant, none of them knew, but he came back down with Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Hermione behind him, all giggling, Harry and Ron both holding cameras. At his next words, Remus understood why.

"I think that's another prank well-pulled, Moony." Sirius said, smirking as he helped his friend up from his position on the floor. It hadn't registered with the two redheads yet, so Remus decided to give the twin's minds a push in the right direction.

"Yeah, but doesn't it make you miss those days, Padfoot? Do you think we're getting too old for this job?" Both took a minute of looking thoughtful, while smirking, before they looked each other in the eye and said as one, "Nah."

All of the kids were giggling now, and some were outright laughing, watching the twin's faces. Their expressions were akin to awe, horror, amazement, and delight. Finally, twin one, as Remus had dubbed him, swallowed, his gaze shifting between the two men before him. The cameras were flashing.

"You…Marauders?" It was like a caveman that didn't know how to speak full sentences was speaking to him. Remus smiled.

"Yup. The Messers of the one, the only, Marauders Map. But thank you for taking such good care of it for us." Sirius gave a rouge smile, and made a flourished bow. "Allow me to properly introduce myself. Messer Padfoot." He said, offering his hand. Copying him in the gesture, like they had always done as kids, Remus said,

"Messer Moony."

Twin two stared, before saying, "but you're a professor. You're Moo…Moo…"

"No, I'm not a cow, I'm a werewolf, and yes, I am Moony." Both twins looked fit to faint, while everyone else was in side-stitches, including Remus. Now he could understand Sirius getting the kids and cameras.

Remus smiled at the recent memory. The rest of the summer, the dynamic duo had regarded them with awe and pride, telling them of every prank. And Remus, enjoying the feelings it brought back, helped with every idea they had, making each prank better.

The twins had been heartbroken when the Marauders had become divided again too. Sighing, Remus set the picture aside. At least this was something he could explain, something he was sure everyone would agree he had to keep. The twin looks were brilliant. Choking back tears, Remus continued.

The memories went on and on, from their first year to their last moments. The tears didn't stop, but neither did Remus. He had to get rid of his friend's junk.

All of the pictures of them together did nothing but remind Remus of how far apart they were. The last three members of his pack of wolves, his pride of lions, we spread apart. What was the point in living, if not with Sirius and James, who were together when he was alone, mourning them?

Harry Potter came in silently beside him, and he too began to sort through the more recent things. When Remus went to save a feather of Buckbeak's, Harry however put his hand on top of the older man's.

"Professor, this stuff won't bring him back." While there were tears shining in Harry's green eyes, Remus saw something else. Wisdom, and pain, and loneliness. But Harry wasn't alone. Even if no one mourned Sirius quite like he did, Remus knew his pain, and knew how to deal with it…

And quite suddenly, Remus realized why he was still there, on Earth, while his friends looked on from Heaven. He had such a purpose here on Earth. He had Harry.

Neither of them was as alone as they had thought.

And from Heaven, two men with black hair, one with hazel eyes and one with blue, watched, smiling, and knowing that their friend had found peace, not in the boxes, but in the treasure the boxes had given him. A new pack mate, a pride, a friend.

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