Title: The Domino Effect
Rating: T
Setting: Prisoner of Azkaban
Character(s): Remus Lupin, Sirius Black (mentioned), Peter Pettigrew (mentioned)
Pairing(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Notes: This explores Remus’ year teaching at Hogwarts. Most of the focus is on Remus’ relationship with Sirius and his [Remus’] inability to be completely convinced that Sirius is guilty of the crimes of which the Ministry (and the Wizarding world at large) accuse him. And when a supposedly long-dead Peter Pettigrew appears on the Marauders’ Map ...
Disclaimer: Characters you recognise belong to J. K. Rowling.
Summary: You never were a true believer in the official line.
A domino effect, or chain reaction, is the cumulative effect produced when one event sets off a chain of similar events.
You’re the only one of Sirius’ immediate circle of school friends still alive. And of all of them, and this once you’re including James, you have intimate knowledge of just how impulsive (and, yes, cruel) Sirius can be. Based on that logic, you should be glad Sirius is in Azkaban; anyone would think you, above all, would be most convinced of Sirius’ guilt because of how flippant he had been about other people’s lives before.
But even with (admittedly circumstantial) evidence pointing towards Sirius, you were never a true believer in the official line. You’d been in love with him at the time, and he with you. The question still wanders across your mind from time to time whether your inability to believe in his guilt is no more than lingering remnants of the love for him you’ve never, whatever you’ve tried, been able to shake. You’ve never once been able to answer the question to your satisfaction.
Time passes, and yet for you everything stays the same; your life as always is ruled by the phases of the moon, and after the Full you recuperate as best you can while your mind screams, as it always has since Godric’s Hollow, for your friends. For your lover.
The year Sirius escapes Azkaban, and as a consequence Dumbledore invites you back to Hogwarts to teach, the Ministry’s almost criminal incompetence over their use of Dementors (along with their inevitable failure, given their ignorance of his Animagus ability, to catch Sirius) means whatever remaining faith you had in officialdom drips away over the next eight months. Each time Sirius breaks into Hogwarts, the wolf can smell him in both man and dog form, and you can’t stop your body from reacting to it. You bring yourself back to reality by forcing yourself to remember the horrors of that long ago winter; it works, but makes you feel terrible in the process.
And still you cannot let go of your love for Sirius.
Each time Sirius breaks into Hogwarts and leaves Harry untouched, that part of you unconvinced of his guilt grows stronger by increments, and you become less and less inclined to let Padfoot’s secret slip to Dumbledore or to anybody else. Each time you smell his presence your body’s reaction also grows stronger, and the Sirius you fell in love with returns to you in your dreams.
The first domino falls.
When you regain the Map from Snape, and through it the much-loved ghosts of your past (including Sirius; whatever he's done (or not done), you still love him deeply) return to you, it’s bittersweet. You shed many tears that night. Beltane, your anniversary, follows soon enough; for the first time in years, it passes without your beating yourself up over still being in love with Sirius.
And when it comes down to it it’s the Map, above everything, that brings you the truth (or as close as it’s possible to get to it, now almost thirteen years have passed). And you find, with increasing confidence, you were right not to have swallowed the official line so readily. The guilt you feel, about not trusting the part of you that all along thought there was a possibility Sirius might be innocent, is deep. You’re idly watching Harry and his friends’ progress on the Map when you notice the seemingly impossible become fact: Peter Pettigrew’s name shows up, a dozen years pass into the ether and your mind throws you back into that cold November when everything fell apart.
Peter is alive (because the Map never lies). This means Sirius didn’t kill him.
And the second.
Sirius didn’t kill Peter. The next thought to cross your mind: if Sirius didn’t kill Peter, why was Sirius there at all?
Then the third.A feeling rises up in you that you struggle to identify; could it be hope? You tell yourself again there was no reason for Sirius to be anywhere near Peter that day; did Sirius do anything at all to anybody that day? This goes against just about everything you think you know about the situation, but it’s a question demanding an answer.
How, for that matter, did Peter know Lily and James were dead? Peter had been out of the loop for months, and the Potters' deaths hadn’t yet been common knowledge then. Or had they? Your memories of that time are all jumbled together in a miasma of pain; even now, with twelve years’ distance, it hurts to think about.
The fourth.And if Sirius didn’t kill Peter, as you’ve already established by virtue of the latter’s appearance on the Map, how does it automatically follow he must have killed James and Lily? Or is that another ‘truth’ you now need to unlearn?
The fifth.
And when you see Sirius’ name appear on the map near the children’s and Peter’s, with his trajectory showing him aiming straight for Peter, you see things as they must have been. Sirius never had any time for Peter in the past, once you were all free of Hogwarts; his primary focus had been you, James, and Harry, in that order. So why is Sirius so keen to see Peter now? A leap of logic later now has you certain it wasn’t Sirius, it could not have been Sirius, who killed anybody that night. Which leaves just one remaining option and, at last, a number of disquieting things come together in your mind for the first time to make a sickening amount of sense.
Peter.