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Chapter Text

Chapter One: The Way I Love You

Harry Potter was standing with his family surrounding him in the forest, the pine needles blowing across his feet with a mysterious wind. Sirius, Remus, his father and his mother. His mother was the first one he went to, naturally, but his hand simply slipped through her ghost form. There were multiple sources of death in the Wizarding World that probably should have scared him more than they did, the mirror of Erised for example, how he saw his entire family with scruffy black hair and unsteady knees. This was the last he would hear from them all, he swore to it. No one should have to deal with death in the way he had before, and *was* looking at now. For he knew that these people, these wonderful, brilliant people, had lived their story and died for the second wizarding world. And it was so not fair.

So, so unfair.

He looked around at the Maruaders, effectively, the ones who were so brilliant that they created a map of the school and knew more about its inner goings on than anyone else who stepped foot there. He looked at Lupin especially, not entirely sure why he was focused on him, but there had to be a reason. His blood pumped in his veins, going up to his heart. A heart, he was sure, had been the reason for his survival.

"And Remus...your son..."

That was why. Or was it? Hm. What was going on here?

"Others will tell him what his mother and father died for," Lupin replied. "One day, he'll understand."

He had said it in a sort of pointed manner, as if talking down to him. Harry did *not* like that. He knew Remus had changed for the better since he met Tonks, but it couldn't have been *that* much, could it? Was he, perhaps, mistaken in his views about Remus in his third year? No, surely not. In a passing *mention* of his broken broomstick that he had no means to remember, he *must* have been the one who told Sirius and Sirius had purchased the Firebolt. How, Harry had no idea, since he was wanted by half the country. But Lupin wasn't so he could easily go down to Hogsmeade and...why was he thinking about *this* now? This was the last time he would see his mum and dad, why was he thinking about *Firebolts?*

"You're nearly there, son," James said.

"Why are you here?" Harry asked. "Any of you?"

"We never left," Lily replied.

But you *did.*

"Stay close to me," Harry said softly.

"Always," Lily echoed Professor Snape from earlier.

He let out a huge sigh as if letting the fate of the world out on his shoulders, and dropped the stone on the pine needles. It would never be seen again if Harry did his job right. The remaining artifacts of death were the invisibility cloak and the Elder Wand. Dumbledore had said Voldemort had to kill Harry with the wand, that way, in his eyes, Harry's horcrux inside him would be destroyed by the very person who made it. But soon he would join the ranks of the Marauders, and be peaceful, a nice break from reality. Even Harry sensed that something was keeping him drawn to Earth.

"HARRY?" Hagrid had shouted, held in ropes by deatheaters. "NO. WHAT ARE YEH DOIN' HERE??"

"Quiet!!"

"Harry Potter," said Voldemort. "The boy who lived. Come to die."

A long, stiffling pause. Harry could feel the pine needles scrambling around his feet by the soft wind again. Voldemort raised his wand, from the few foot distance they were standing- and Harry closed his eyes. The snake was getting closer...and closer...and closer. These things were real. Happening in front of him. Remus, Sirius and his mum and dad were *not* real. But they still gave him the comfort and bravery he needed to stand here now. Facing down death for the last time.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Everything turned a dramatic shade of white. And then there was nothing at all.
.....
Harry opened his eyes, the white light blinding him as he slowly stood up. Was this heaven, was his first thought. It didn't feel like it. There was a train whistle sounding like a ghost in the distance. Under the bench next to him, as he turned his head sharply upon the rattling breaths he heard, he saw a bloodied corpse next to him. Albus Dumbledore stood in front of him as he looked up with a gasp.

"You can't help," he said simply. "Harry. You wonderful boy. You brave, brave man. Let us walk."

The two matched pace as they walked down the isle of this strange place that he had no idea where they were. He heard a train whistle in the distance, and for a wild moment, thought it was Kings Cross again.

"Sir...where exactly are we?" Harry asked.

"I was going to ask you that," Dumbledore said. "It is, as they say, your party. Where would you say we are?"

"It looks like Kings Cross," Harry replied after a breath. "Except...cleaner. And without all the trains. I have to go back, haven't I?"

"Kings Cross, is that right?" Dumbledore let out a short laugh. "That's up to you. I think, if you so desired, you'd be able to board a train.

"And where would it take me?" Harry asked.

"On," Dumbledore replied mysteriously.

"Voldemort has the Elder Wand," Harry said, standing as Dumbledore started to walk away.

"True," Dumbledore said.

"And the snake's still alive," Harry continued. "And I've nothing to kill it with."

"Help will always be given at Hogwarts, Harry, to those who ask for it," Dumbledore said, stepping closer. "I always pride myself on the ability to turn a phrase. "Words are, in my not so humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both remedying harm and inflicting it. I would therefore ammend my statement to this; help will always be given at Hogwarts...to those who deserve it."

There was a soft pause and a train whistle in the distance again. Harry wanted to stop Dumbledore from entering the searing light, but could think of nothing else to say.

"Professor...is all of this real? Or is it just happening inside my head?"

"Of course it's happening inside your head, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Why should that mean that it's not real?"

"Professor," he said. "My mothers patronus was a doe, wasn't it? The same as Professor Snape. It's curious, isn't it?"

"Actually, if I think about it...it's not curious at all," Dumbledore smiled. "I'll be going now, Harry."

"Professor?" Harry asked, shouting after him. "Professor Dumbledore? Professor!"

Suddenly, Dumbledore turned back as the train whistle grew louder than ever, the chunking and churning of the wheels growing ever closer.

"If you could save one person from Death...presuming, of course, that this were possible...who would you save?" asked Dumbledore's voice, sounding nothing like him. "Harry? Harry?"
.....
Since when could you save people from death? Did they merely have to board a train *with you?* Harry took a deep breath as the shrill whistle got louder and soon...he woke up in a field with annoying twittering birds and a huge tree above him, whipping this way and that in different directions as it seemed to fight back.

"Immoboulus," a young voice said, but Harry knew it. He knew where that voice came from. "Come on, mate, deep breaths. That willow can do nasty things. Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks," Harry's words tumbled out as he stood, helped by a young boy with sandy hair and twinkling green eyes full of mischief. "I've got it from here, thanks-"

"What's your name, then?" the boy asked, Harry's vision started to improve as he put on his glasses, scrambling around on the ground to find them.

"Potter," he replied. "Harry Potter."

"Well then, Potter, Harry Potter, I'd like to know your real name eventually because that's just not possible," the boy laughed. "There's only one Potter round here, and his name is James."

"Right," Harry shook his head to check if he had any injuries, but there were none. "Thank you. For the...thing. Saving me. From that thing. And the er...other thing. I'd like to know *your* real name too."

"Remus," the boy smiled, shaking his hand. "Remus Lupin."

What the fuck.
....

Chapter Text

Chapter Two: My Lover's Just some Lines in Some Songs

*I left my heart in a pub in Hampstead, and I lost my head in a good way. Threw away my reputation and saved us more heartache. Yes, I know it seems fucked up and you're right.*

The chatter of the Three Broomsticks' usual patrons drowned around Remus Lupin's ears as he downed his third dose of firewhiskey. Butterbeer was far too light for tonight. Not after what he had just seen. Not after what was just taken from him. Taken from Harry, taken from the world. And far too soon. There was no possible way he could have become a ghost, he had no reason to, after all. So he saved himself the heartache he was still feeling anyway and didn't search for the absent ghost of Sirius Black. It was bad enough to feel him by his side, laughing and joking with James and Peter, school boys with no worries in the world besides which bit of Hogwarts they would find next to get revenge on the Slytherins- Severus Snape in particular, though the Malfoys couldn't hurt either, in his thoughts and in James.' He had become quite a rebel in his third year, egged on by Sirius, mostly, who enjoyed seeing this new side of Remus. But when he saw the show and facade crumble, he was there more than anyone else could have asked for.

He tried to clear his mind of anything Marauders, but it was impossible. The gang of youths had touched every part of this town with their mischief and mayhem. And now, he was the only one who *could* get revenge on Bellatrix Lestrange, the cruel bitch who had murdered Sirius Black for no reason, her mind past the point of insanity by now to be reasoned with. It was all he could do to keep a tight grip on Harry as his screams of pain just about broke Remus' heart more than it already was.

"Another firewhiskey, Remus?" Madam Rosmerta called, wiping some baking dust off her apron as she came over to him. "May I ask why you're drowning a broken heart tonight?"

"Don't wish to trouble you, Rossie," Remus shrugged his broad shoulders and downed the last cup, placing it on the wooden table with a bang that made several customers turn their heads. "My love life is not of public affection, not when that Skeeter woman is still lurking around."

"Did you read that article she wrote on my Butterbeer?" Rosmerta flared at the mention. "Grey haired waitress known as 'Madam Rosemerta' steals recepie for Butterbeer from muggle shops from Butterscotch drinks.' Now *really*, it's only *one* grey hair at this point. What do you think, Remus, can you see any?"

"You look fine, Ros," Lupin sighed, grateful that she didn't mention his sudden rage, people now whispering at staring at him. "Haven't seen Potter lately, have you?"

"Oh, Remus, I know how close you were, but really that was years-"

"I meant Harry," Remus quickly filled in. "Don't worry. I'm not that far gone yet."

"You're getting there, if you want another whiskey," Rosmerta shook her head and placed a fresh bar of chocolate in front of him. "On the house. And also, on me- Remus, Sirius wouldn't want you like this. He wouldn't-"

"You wouldn't know what he thinks, and now, I won't either, thanks to his lovely cousin."

The pub went quiet, as if they were all talking about the same thing. About the lonely man sitting at the farthest table with no family or friends left in the world. Not worried, no, that wasn't the cruel world. He was the new, fresh gossip of the town. At the very least, the Shrieking Shack was a thing of the past. Now he was simply putting himself into misery.

"I'll take the chocolate, however," Remus said suddenly, a smile cracking on Rosmerta's face. "Never know- could heal even a broken heart. And now, I must relieve you the burden of a lonely man who can just about afford to scrape three pints of Fire- ah, Merlin, thought I had- could've sworn I had an extra Galleon-"

"On the house, Remus," said Rosemerta. "Now go get some rest. No more pubs for you tonight- I'll send word to Albus that you're coming."

"Really, Rosmerta, no need," Remus flushed, though perhaps a night in the castle would do him some good, and gave in with a sigh. "I'll head up there, then."

She nodded curtly, and it wasn't until the lonely, broken man had reached the door that she called after him.

"He loved you, Remus," Rosmerta called after him. "Everyone could see it. Brothers, Albus said."

"Perhaps more than brothers," Remus gave a soft smile. "'Night, Rossie."

He stepped out into the bracing snow that always seemed to blanket the grounds of Hogsmeade- which idealisticly, did remind him of a picturesque muggle post card that you found on those metal racks at the train station. He trudged up to the castle on the long road- no thestral carriages at this time of night. And certainly an unpleasant surprise at the castle doors- who else but Severus Snape? He swooped over to Remus, his long black cloak trailing across the ground and reminding Remus of a rather large bat. He surpressed a laugh at this thought- something that he would have told Sirius.

"Lupin," Snape managed a one word greeting. "I was aware that someone with a- how to put it, 'furry little problem', could take up a post at Hogwarts."

"Easy, Severus," Lupin managed to control himself at Snape's taunting and pulled out a scroll that Rosmerta had given him. "Note from Madam Rosemerta to see the Headmaster."

"Downing our love in The Three Broomsticks, I gather?" Snape said.

"I take it you've had experience," Lupin replied, still surprising himself at how quick he was, even on three pints of Firewhiskey. "Rosemerta sent along a patronus. Really, Severus- this is ridiculous."

"Another fond memory of our time at this school, ridiculous though it sounds," Snape sneered, the edges of a smile hinting on Remus' expression.

"The- er....unfortunate boggart got back to you then, did it?" Remus asked.

"Enter," Severus nodded curtly, not wishing to express it further. "Password for the Headmaster is 'time split.' I would try not to ask, Albus is growing older now."

"As are we all," Remus replied. "Goodnight, Sniv- er, Severus."

"Good night, Moony," Snape grinned, always one to get the final word, and causing another pang in Remus' heart.

But the damage had already been done, and Snape had vanished back into the dark. He gave a sigh, rearranged himself into *some* form of put togetherness, and trudged again up the 142 moving staircases and sleeping portraits to Dumbledore's office. After giving the password, 'time split' the spiral staircase on the large phoenix suddenly started to move upwards, and he took one of the steps. He had never been invited to Albus Dumbledore's office before. This was something of a novelty. When he taught at Hogwarts, he tended to spend most of his time in his Defense classroom, where he felt most comfortable. Alone in this world, his 'brother' Sirius Black stuck in Azkaban for the unthinkable horror of betraying James and Lily to the dark lord. How very wrong he was, how wrong they all were.

"Remus," Albus greeted him, standing beside an ornate object that looked rather like a tiny birds nest, but Remus didn't have the mind to ask. "I am terriby sorry about Sirius. I know the pain of losing a friend- perhaps even a loved one?"

"You don't," Remus burst out, but kept himself calm. He was invited, after all. "Spare me the grief speech, Albus, and I'll be on my way soon."

"On the contrary," Albus replied. "I think you could find great use of this conversation in the future. Perhaps even now. Remus, when you taught at Hogwarts, there was a rather ambitous student who's solid goal was to get top of every class. She fortunately managed her high expectations. Can you guess who that might be?"

"Wouldn't be Hermione Granger, would it, sir?" he smiled softly, but then was confused. "But I don't see how a student will help me now, when no one can, I-"

"Can you imagine how she got to all twelve classes on her own, when most of them took place at the same *time* as the other?" Albus smiled cheekily, giving a soft wink.

"A time turner," Remus replied after thinking for a bit. It was the only logical assumption.

"Precisely," Albus said, opening a drawer on his desk. "Now, of course we had to return this to the Ministry, after this rather beautiful object outlived its use. However...my interests and the Minister's are often not the same."

"You never kept it," Remus' eyes widened at the thought. "You may live to regret that one day."

"Perhaps I might, it is true," said Albus with the wise, old twinkle in his eye. "But for now...I rather think *you* might find some use of it. After all, it takes much more than Firewhiskey to save a young, broken man with a shattered heart."

"Rosemerta passed that on, then," Remus sighed.

"Rosemerta passes on a great many things, including a knack for dealing with Miss Rita Skeeter," Albus chuckled. "I believe in her latest article, she names me as a 'paranoid old twat.'"

"I don't believe that's true, sir."

"And I do not believe your heart to be beyond saving," Albus' twinkle in his half moon spectacles never went away. "Here. It is yours now. I trust you will figure out what to do with it- in time."

"Time heals all wounds..." Remus repeated the phrase he'd heard before.

"Now, if one is going back three hours, three turns should do it," Albus got up to lead Remus to the vacant staff room on the 5th floor. "But if one is going back...shall we say, *years?*"

"Why are you telling me this, Albus?" Remus asked. "Your riddles were always vexing, at the least."

"Like I say," Albus replied. "There will come a time you need it. I believe young Harry will be most in need of you, and should he give a call to the best suited defense teacher in many years, I daresay, you will have it on hand."

"You're too kind, Albus," Remus gave a small smile. "I do miss it. Teaching, that is. Though I do think Severus would have words if I came back."

"It is beyond me how someone like you manages with all of life's struggles," Dumbledore said. "What gives me hope most of all is your fight to see through them, every time. Even as a boy. Now, let me know how you get on with that time turner tomorrow- I'd hate to see it get dropped in a desk drawer for years to come..."

Another encounter with Albus Dumbledore for the books; he always was quite mad and resourceful, but all in all, one of the smartest people in the wizarding world, much to Cornelius Fudge's disliking. What had he said? Three turns back? What about...forwards? Could he do that without causing harm? Of course he could, he knew the castle better than Fred and George Weasley, he was sure. *And* he knew how to *not get caught.* His heart suddenly leapt in his chest; he knew what he needed to do. Not *hours.* *Years.*

Remus turned the golden dial with the funny shaped hourglass a *lot* until the world was spinning around him, spinning and spinning and spin-

And then he was gone.
....

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: “Furry Little Problem?” No, James, We are NOT Calling it THAT

REMUS

Remus could not quite believe where he was when he opened his eyes. Hogwarts, yes, that checked out. He wasn’t entirely out of his depth with his growing age yet. But there was a big, glowing problem. He would have to do anything in his power to shake off the inner feeling of dread. Because the beloved yet infuriatingly mad Headmaster that he had just been riddled with yet ANOTHER problem with, and now he was well out of his depth in a situation that he had no power to control- and might even have the chance to see his loved ones again.

…More like- his ‘lover’ again.

‘Shut up, Remus, they’re dead. They’re dead, and soon you will be too.’ He knew what would happen eventually at the end of this war, he knew it ever since Voldemort had come back. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he definitely saw strategy, was quick at defense, and knew when to use it on the uptake—usually well beyond his opponent. This had come in very handy when he was curious enough to explore the werewolf territory of the Forbidden Forest one Halloween, albeit a prank orchestrated by Sirius…only to swear off never stepping foot…or paw, into those dark and deadly trees again.

The Shack was just close enough to the grounds that it gave him some space for a breather…but every time he glanced over his shoulder for a look into the Forest…he had to admit that the Mauraders were lucky to have someone smart on their team- someone who actually *thought* about the consequences of their latest expedition (fine, their latest joke or prank), and came up with ways to make it safe for everyone involved. Though admittedly, Peter could do better with following that last one. Remus still had some sympathy for Peter, as he was very slow on the uptake to magic at all-and probably would have been easily swayed to the dark side if they let him near the Lestranges during their time at school.

And it turned out that such a swing in a dramatically different direction didn’t end up well for any of them, Peter included.

Perhaps another ‘little problem’ was that Remus was always slightly too sympathetic to the ‘runts’ of the world. It came naturally with the trauma of being bitten by a werewolf (the damned Fenrir Greybeck…) at a mere four years old. Not old enough to string a sentence together properly, let alone understand that he would be isolated from ‘normal’ people for the rest of his life.

But there was one other person who understood being separated from the ‘normal lot’, far more than he would admit, probably.

But somehow…through Dumbledore’s maddening genius…he had a second chance. They both did. A second chance to stir the cauldron in the right direction.

Somehow, maybe, change the war.

Bring back their loved ones and save them from their inevitable fate.

It took him far too long to realize that this plan didn’t sound like Dumbledore at all.

But as he carelessly dropped the silver time turner on the Hogwarts grounds, it didn’t even occur to him that he *might* be being watched.

But as Remus made his way up to the castle, he cast a suspicious look over his shoulder.

For there in the spot that the Whomping Willow tree would stand proudly after his years at Hogwarts…was a patch of pumpkins, covered with tea cozies from Hogwart’s gamekeeper.

Nothing- not even a whisper of the tree existed.

And that was what keyed Remus in to this shiver of dread as he wrapped his tattered cloak around himself—

This would not end well, at all.
…..
HARRY
The Marauders—if not allowing for Dumbledore himself—were the most maddening people he had ever come across so far…and in his young age, he had come across a *lot* of maddening people. There was *one* thing that the Headmaster didn’t know about.

The map folded up in his jacket pocket…but as he reached for it—his mind blanked…

He had given it to Ron and Hermione to find him once they’d gotten back from finding a way to ‘destroying Voldemort before he knew about it.’

……

…..

…..

*Well fuck that.*

Right. He needed to find somewhere to go, something to do—anything, to take his mind off the ruddy war and people dying left right and center, and all of it, *all* of it, precisely being *his fault.*

And this infuriating young, annoyingly handsome boy was following him. About his age, but with light, sandy hair and a claw mark across his cheek.

The most unbelievable thing so far that he had come across, though- this boy claimed to be his former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

“Right— I get the joke, you can stop having me on now,” Harry called back to the boy, who insisted on following him.

“But it’s true!” The boy called out after him. “Remus Lupin- sometimes Remu…never mind that one. And *don’t*, for the love of Merlin, tell Siri that I told you that.”

“Siri?” Harry scoffed, shaking his head. “Thought you said the year was 1971?”

“Last I checked!” The boy who couldn’t be Remus Lupin shouted. “Why’s that relevant?”

“Siri- I…never mind, we’ll have a great time over that later, I’m sure,” Harry sighed, muttering. “Once I’ve saved everyone from their instant doom that awaits.”

“That last bit?”

“Nothing. I- you’ll get it later.”

“You seem to know a lot about my future,” the boy rolled his eyes. “I’ll put a good word in to Ros, she’s always on the look out for a tea reading.”

Harry finally stopped, taking a deep, steadying breath- which turned out not to work at all. Probably because if he *was* in 1971, like the boy seemed to claim, then either he had hit his head *really* hard after being knocked out by Voldemort…or this was all some pre-death fancy he’d made up in his head before the spell hit him. Personally, he’d take the former.

“Look- not that I don’t appreciate your company- are you going to stop following me?” Harry asked.

There was a soft pause as the boy looked around and shrugged, his gaze turning to the calm willow tree that stood nearby.

“Shouldn’t think so.”

“Right- any reason *why* you’re following me?”

“Because you prove to be a particularly interesting case.”

“Case of what, exactly?” Harry closed his eyes. This was worse than ten Hermiones on a nastily exhausting study day. “Long walk to the castle.”

“Dunno,” the boy shrugged. “I’ll decide on the way!”

“Look, it might be best for both of us if you try and shut it during the journey?” Harry pinched his nose. “I’m trying to work out exactly where I am…and you’re not exactly helping.”

“But I can come with you?” Remus asked, raising a soft brow.

“Yeah- where *is* my da- er- James?” Harry asked, recovering quickly. “And Sirius. Aren’t you meant to be hanging around with them? Isn’t that what you do? Cause mischief and get Hogwarts into the most mayhem it’s seen since Gred and Forge?”

“Who’re Gred and-“

“They’d be proud to meet you.”

“Dunno if I’d make anyone proud- ‘sides from Siri,” Remus grimaced. “And Lysander- my father, that is- only he’s dead. Oh- right, quiet. Got it.”

Harry took another steadying breath, but pushed his broken glasses up the brim of his nose. With a simple muttered spell under his breath, Remus’s lips formed a half smirk when Harry suddenly blinked. The glasses were clear- and fixed, with nothing more than utterance.

“You- can do wandless magic?” Harry asked, temporarily stunned. How old was Lupin now? 17?

He had to be careful not to break the kid’s spirit, as it was all that was holding the fractured bits of him together right now.

“Fine, come on,” Harry gave a soft grin. “And it’s Harry. You call me that anyway now, since you’re no longer the- never mind. You’ll know later.”

Remus’ lips twitched into a mischievous smile and he followed after Harry, stuffing his hands into his pockets just like adult Remus did nonchalantly. But young Remus had to take the hill two steps at a time to keep up with Harry.

“And I meant Siri-*us* by the way,” Remus chimed in, which didn’t help at all, only causing a further pit in the doom of his stomach. “Sirius Black? Since you claim to be a ‘Potter’, which is downright impossible since James hasn’t got any siblings or children. At least, I hope not. You don’t know a Lily Evans, do you?”

“No, I changed my mind,” Harry’s stomach lurched again. “Please keep the talking to a min. This is…weird.”

“You should see him in Arithmancy— ‘Oi, Evans!’ It’s honestly the only thing he knows how to say around her.”

“Not helping.”

A dark shadow stood watching the two disappear into the light of Hogwarts, filled now with ghosts of smiles, blasting stereo music and girls flirting with their friends by the lakeside, as the giant squid raised up a tentacle to wave, or throw the occasional student to shore who went to deep.

The figure’s wand illuminated, holding a crumpled piece of brown paper. Remus’s wand tapped the golden swirls that made up the ‘Messers’ names- ‘Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs’ with a-

“Mischief managed.”

And closed the map, the brilliant light from his wand put out without a breath.
……

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: Takin’ All My Lovin’ From Me

REMUS
Remus hated the Shrieking Shack, and by standard, he hated himself and Albus— for having built it for space for his abnormalities. Differences that surely would have him expelled from Hogwarts when he was young. He hoped above else that his younger self could keep Harry *away* from his werewolf transformations. It was bad enough that the Marauders already *all* knew about it—how long could they keep his ‘furry little problem’ a secret?

As the full moon drew closer, he knew he couldn’t do this all on his own, secretly, no matter how much he hated to admit it to himself. He had pondered over the next few nights just who could help him out of this situation, and his thoughts naturally landed on Harry. No, he pushed the idea away. Harry had enough of a time already trying to stop the war of Hogwarts before it began, he didn’t need more trouble than he already had, seeing James and Sirius young, and more importantly, seeing *himself* young. Remus let out as soft a scream as he could as he could already start to feel his extremely thin spine start to twist and churn inside his rib cage. He hated this part the most: the part where he couldn’t fully transform yet, but was almost at the breaking point. And, according to Harry, who had told him years later—he wasn’t exactly the best company as a full blown werewolf either.

Remus set out the map on the dusty old piano that he knew would one day be smashed in half from one of his more painful transformations. As he got older, Madam Pomphrey had once advised—so too, his transformations would become equally more painful. It made sense in a roundabout way, he supposed. That must have been what drove Greybeck over the edge. He shivered at the thought of the name…five years old…

He couldn’t think about that right now. What *should* be his focus was getting Harry and himself back to their own time, unscathed, and alive enough to return to their war. And what would Tonks have to say about all this when he got back to present time? Sorry, Dora, I have unfortunately developed some sort of feelings for the boy who lived and I have no idea how he feels about me, and isn’t it *wrong* to even consider being in that sort of relationship with a former student when I already have *you?*

“Remus. Focus.”

The two words spoken aloud seemed to have a more grounding effect than he expected. But suddenly, a voice appeared at the door that nearly startled him out of his wits—and *actually* did when he turned to see who it was.

“Remus. You’re an idiot.”

He turned very slowly, nearly collapsing against the piano as he saw a young Sirius Black standing in the doorway.
….

HARRY
Harry had finally made it up to the Gryffindor common room, this *ever so slightly* annoying version of Remus Lupin following him all the way, and never running out of questions to ask. It was like a combination of the Creevy brothers, plus the jokes of Fred and George on a good day. But he wasn’t really focused on that right now, and couldn’t be. He was about to see his dad. His father, and, potentially, his mother—young, alive, *before* he had doomed them both when Voldemort went to kill him.

“Listen, Remus- it’s been-um—“

He trailed off with the younger Lupin staring at him expectantly, but Harry sighed and started off again. Too painful. Too many painful memories at Hogwarts—he could never be a ghost haunting the castle for eternity.

“Fascinating? Utterly ridiculous?” Remus prompted with a raised eyebrow.

“…Enlightening,” Harry finished, hiding his soft smile. “Fuck. Sorry. Never did learn how to…anyways, could you show me the way to the Gryffindor common room?”

“I can do more than that,” Lupin grinned. “Listen, James, Sirius and Peter are planning another map session—if you’d like to join. Since you already seem to know about the map, which is *just* as impossible as you being ‘Potter, Harry Potter.”

“You’re never going to let that one go, are you?”

“Never.”

Harry sighed, but after a deep breath, nodded and let Lupin lead the way.

“I will need to talk to the gang first before we decide to tell you *all* the secret passages and our ‘furry little problem,’ as it were,” Lupin suddenly developed an air of authority just like he did when he had taught Harry.

“Right,” Harry raised a brow. “I thought I was fascinating and- what was that last one? Utterly ridiculous? You know, there’s a spell that sounds like-“

“Yes, I know it,” Lupin chuckled softly. “Bloody hell, perhaps you *are* a Potter. You’d be in for a tough competition with James though. I think he’d like you.”

“Well, let’s not count our graces,” Harry finished. “We’re not even sure if he likes *you.* I didn’t mean that in a….you know.”

“Potter, Harry Potter, you’re sounding like Sirius Black on a Monday,” Lupin laughed.

“That makes me feel worse.”

“Don’t worry—they’ll love you. Just gotta keep my own spot in the group, you understand,” Lupin trailed off behind Harry as the same sinister pair of eyes watched them from the dark of the Forbidden Forest.

But it was worse than Harry had expected. For as he entered the common room, a bit different from Harry’s day, but still cozy and empty enough that Harry almost automatically joined the pair of three young, handsome, yes—that, he’d keep private boys surrounding the fire. Wormtail was trying to master his latest homework and quite miserably failing, Sirius was trying to catch a pretty girl’s eye nearby, and—*Harry’s breath caught in his throat*—the most dashing of the boys there was looking at a golden snitch hovering in mid air, his hand firmly clasped around it every time it *sort of* flew out of reach. Wormtail clapped each time he caught it.

“Remus, finally,” he sighed. “Wormy usually only listens to you. Can you tell him to sod off the clapping and start trying to figure out which end of his wand is which?”

The double entendre did not escape Harry, and he let out a soft laugh, which caused the young boy to look at him slowly, a brow raising.

“Dad.”

“What did you just s—“ Remus trailed off mid sentence.

Fuck. This was going to be much harder than Harry imagined.
…..
REMUS
As Sirius Black stood against the doorframe, draped against it, rather, with his expensive long black cloak—not yet messed up by all the years in Azkaban, he nearly had a heart attack.

“How—how on *Earth* did you know it was m—“

“You?” Sirius cut him off. “Come on, Remu. I know you anywhere. Even in the current state you’re in which…isn’t *great.*”

He stepped a bit closer to Remus, who instantly backed up, as if Sirius were some kind of explosive that would go off if he got too close.

“I’m not a bomb, Remu,” Sirius sighed, gently placing his hands on Remus’ shoulders. “What…what *happened* to you?”

“Long story,” Remus replied. “And one that we don’t really have time for. Sirius. I know you’re not quite the age yet that I am-“

“That,” said Sirius pointedly. “Is obvious.”

He followed Remus around the piano, who just about doubled over with emotional pain when he sat down next to him.

“Can you just—can you *stop* following me,” Remus said softly. “Please. Not that I’m ungrateful for your company, believe me, it’s—I just…please.”

“Hell,” Sirius let out a breath, looking Remus over again. “Something *must* happen to me in the future. What?”

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

A pause. Sirius’ expression instantly turned more, well, serious, as he searched Remus’ eyes.

“The worst?”

“I…yeah.”

“Well,” Sirius gave a fake smile. “Best make do with the time we have left. You didn’t expect this extra time, did you?”

“It came as quite a surprise,” Remus broke into a grin. “‘Remus, you’re an idiot.’ Seriously? Give an old man a heart attack, would you?”

“Right,” Sirius matched his grin the best he could with the knowledge he now had. “How do we stop it?”

Remus was confused. Stop *what?* Stop the war? Stop James and Lily from being killed? That was his current mission, after all. And how could Sirius possibly know that, unless he were a secret legilimins, which he knew Sirius wouldn’t have the patience for such a thing. Then- it clicked.

“Sirius…we can’t stop it,” Remus replied. “Your death is *necessary* for Harry to defeat…Voldemort. He *must* know the feeling of grief if he is to succeed.”

“Well,” Sirius said, the glimmer in his eyes dying slowly, breaking Remus’ heart. “Let’s help this ‘Potter, Harry Potter’ the best we can. Even if we must go out in the process- and let’s make sure our end is as memorable as that map you’ve got right there. It’s best we work together to make *sure* that Harry *cannot* be with—ah, fucking shit.”

“What?”

“He’s already with James and Peter,” Sirius sighed.

“This is impossible.”

“Not…impossible. Just highly unlikely.”

Sirius grinned, his hand slipping into Remus’s, hoping beyond all hope that he wouldn’t leave him while he had him here.

“Now. Show me what kind of mischief you’re planning, Remu.”

…….
PRESENT TIME: 1997
The dusty bar of The Three Broomsticks hasn’t changed much since Remus’ time at Hogwarts. Rosmerta briefly wondered if Remus *was* headed to the castle in the first place, and what mission Albus was going to give him to stop the war. Because that was what she secretly had up her sleeve, after all. And of course, that made her a target. So, she fully expected it when that snatcher Scabior entered her pub on a cold December night.

“Rosy Ros,” he clicked his tongue as he leaned across the bar to order. “Care to share a whiskey with me? Or shall we cut right to the point and you tell me where you’ve sent Remus Lupin since Nymphadora Tonks claims that she hasn’t seen him for a month?”

“And why do you think it’s me?” Rosmerta replied smoothly. “I assure you, I’m nothing more than a humble bar tender.”

“Pius overheard your conversation.”

Her expression fell, shit. Now Remus was in danger, and by so, Harry. Even if they were in the past, Voldemort would eventually find them. But it was the most she could do to let them live a little longer.

“Indeed?” She asked. “Then he’d know that I’ve sent Remus on a mission with Albus. I cannot say what Albus will have him do—but I *can* share that firewhiskey with you, if you’re still craving. It *must* be exhausting with your job. Come, stay a night here. Surely you remember being a student, Scabior.”

“Nice try,” Scabior smirked. “We’ll be keeping an eye on you, Ros.”

“My family too?” She rolled her eyes.

“Your family too. I wouldn’t look like that, if you want to stay alive by the end of the week. And- what was that I heard on the grapevine? Your precious grandson. I wouldn’t want him to meet a nasty end.”

“No! Please.”

Scabior slowly made his way behind the bar, twirling his wand into her hair.

“Tell me everything you know.”
……

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: ‘Somebody Who Can Match My Frequency’

REMUS
A week had passed. It was still remarkable to Remus that he was collaborating with a young Sirius Black…who in his time, was very much dead. He had engraved the soft touch of Sirius’ hand to his own as he unfurled the Marauder’s Map, noticing immediately that it was already filled to the brim with secret passages and that the pieces that represented people that were magically moving.

“Tell me you were the one who figured that one out,” Sirius breathed, poking the figures with his wand to see if they magically separated from another, to no avail. “I’ll never forgive James if he bested you at that spell. It’s incredibly advanced.”

“It was Peter, actually,” Remus felt a slow smirk spread across his face.

“You’re kidding,” Sirius grinned.

A beat of silence.

“Of course I’m kidding.”

“Remus Lupin, you are the biggest idiot Hogwarts ever accepted,” Sirius laughed, Remus grinning along as if they were just boys again, and Sirius didn’t have any of the 12 years of haunting that Azkaban would one day give him, while he would think that Sirius had betrayed them all.

For that one moment, it was just them, just boys, together causing mischief and just being…well, them. It was bliss. Bliss compare to the week Remus would have, diving straight into his mission from Albus. At least, what he assumed Albus had sent him into the past to accomplish. Protect Harry at all costs, and wouldn’t ’all costs’ be making sure that the Battle of Hogwarts never happened in the first place? Why else would he bother giving Remus a time turner? He could flip between years with a simple turn of the golden hourglass. And did he abuse that power more than he should?

….Yes. Admittedly. But it was for the ‘greater good’, as he’d heard Albus mutter a few times, sure he’d heard the phrase before from somewhere. But he was trying to do this for the good of the wizarding world. First, it was just tiny changes. One evening, he’d caught Narcissa Malfoy out with Bellatrix, looking very dismal with her choice of company. But it was there that he’d planted the idea in her head with a simple spell to make sure her son, Draco, would give Harry his wand in battle before Voldemort could defeat him using Draco’s. He had failed to separate her and Lucius on more than one occasion, so he decided to let that one lie. Perhaps he could hint at Draco some more opportunities to ‘attempt’, at least, to make friends with Harry. Even if it pained him.

This week was his most dangerous of missions, and the one that he was the most scared of. It didn’t help that Sirius was waiting for him every night in the Shrieking Shack whenever he snuck back, immobilizing the tree with a simple spell after making sure no one was around to witness him doing this. Apart from a soft movement in the shadows that anyone could have overlooked, he was always back in his former place of torture to see Sirius flirting with anything that moved in the castle, but always there for Remus at the end of a long, hard day. This time, he was draped over the couch and catching a golden snitch that James had lent him on ‘more than one occasion, just as long as it was returned in one piece, don’t you dare break my trust, Siri’, he’d quoted, one of the nights.

“Blimey…you look—“ Sirius started out as Remus collapsed against the door frame.

“Horrible? Awful? Remus filled in. “And how on Earth are we going to hide ourselves from the general public the nights my past self needs to use this place for werewolf nights and how do we know all these daft little plans are going to work at all?”

“Alright Sopholcies, settle down before you give yourself a stroke,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “I was *going* to say, you look—hmm. 43% less rugged than usual.”

“‘Rugged’, hm?”

“Rugged. You like that, don’t you?”

“It’s better than ancient,” Remus winked over at Sirius, who had just jumped up at the latest shipment of Honeydukes chocolate and jokes and tricks from Zonkos collapsing onto the piano along with the run-down dark arts Professor.

“How’d you get on tonight?” Sirius chided. “You should really eat some too, you get thin as a stick each time you transform, you know.”

“Yes, mother,” Remus raised a brow, letting out a soft chuckle. “Now. As for my success news…I have a bit more. I’ve found my way into Voldemort’s inner circle.”

“Great news!” Sirius chirped.

“Yeah, bad news,” Remus said immediately. “I need to be a werewolf, or at least *some* form of dark being to infiltrate their forces. They won’t let me in. Imagine. I’d be the laughing stock of the pack.”

“You’re already the laughing stock of the pack, Remu.”

“Rude.”

“There’s something *not* right here,” Sirius flopped on the couch again as Remus removed his ragged coat, letting it fall to the piano bench. “You’re wanting to get into this ‘Voldemort’s inner forces. How come they haven’t attacked you right on the spot?”

“Because…I’m not the one they’re planning to attack. And it’s crucial that it remains that way,” Remus responded.

“If not *you*, then who?”

“I can’t say,” Remus said. “I’m sorry, Sirius, but if I told you, if *you* knew, you’d be trying to stop him too, and I can’t have you…”

“Die a second time?”

“…Yeah.”

“Come on, Remu, I’m not that stupid,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “And, unlike you, on the full moon—I still keep my head. You might need me.”

“That’s…a fair point, actually,” Remus said slowly.

“So I can come!?”

“I’ll consider it.”

Remus sighed, bags under his eyes increasing as the night dropped, sitting next to Sirius on the couch. Remus couldn’t help studying the high cheekbones that graced Sirius’ complexion, his green eyes shining in the dark, the moon’s rays being the only light in the ancient room, the torture chamber for Remus.

“You’re looking at me,” Sirius smirked. “Anything crossing your mind in particular?”

“Anything that *is* currently would have me banished from Hogwarts before you can say—“

“********?”

“Christ, Sirius. You’ll be the death of me, you know,” Remus sighed.

“Shall we test that theory?”

Remus hesitated. This was wrong in every way possible. He was so old, and yet Sirius didn’t seem to care. They never did. He slowly placed a hand on Sirius’ chin, tilting his dangerously sharp cheekbones upwards to face his eyes…

“I can’t.”

“*Why not?*”

“Sirius…you’ll hate me for this. I’m here to protect Harry. I can’t make any excuses.”

“Oh go on, Remu. Just the one—“

“Sirius, I *can’t!*”

“Bloody fuck, you have feelings for the boy, don’t you?”

“It’s not like that, he’s 18, I’m younger than I look, thank you *very* much, and besides, I have Tonks…”

“You aren’t happy with Tonks, you’ve said that so many times!!”

“Don’t you dare say that,” Remus growled.

“What? The truth??”

The men broke apart from each other, but after Remus went back to pacing the shack, he swore he heard the door creak open, but nothing had moved. He sighed, looking over at Sirius.

“You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

A beat. Silence loud enough to kill.

“Never.”

“Sirius…”

Remus hesitated for less than a second…then without hesitation, pressed his lips against Sirius’, both men’s bodies slamming against each other, Sirius’ hands finishing unbuttoning Remus’ vest, Remus’ hands tangling through Sirius’ hair, but both men startled apart as the door banged open again.

An invisibility cloak dropped to the floor, a pale hand resting against the handle.

“Harry…I can explain.”
…..
HARRY
He ran back to the Gryffindor Common Room that night, drawing the bed curtains across his four poster. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. Not least Sirius when he crept back to the tower. He didn’t speak to any of the Marauders until the following morning, and it was only when Peter had offered a bit of toast, which he shook his head to. How could Sirius and Remus…then again, they didn’t necessarily *know* he was in the room with them. All the same…he was bound to catch up on it eventually.

“Right,” James slammed a fork down, causing half of Gryffindor table to jump. “Potter, Harry Potter- if you actually *are* one, you’ve been a right tit since you’ve come back from wherever it was you vanished off to last night, and I won’t have you drawing the Marauders apart. We look after each other, rule one. And no one tears us apart. That’s rule two, by the way.”

“And what’s rule three?” Harry rolled his eyes. “Is it after Sirius comes out with the truth about where he disappears to every night and why we should be avoiding the Shrieking Shack in the first place?”

“That’s after you pass initiatio- ah,” James looked down. “Sirius? That *is* actually a- er…good question.”

“That’s for Remus to decide,” Sirius replied icily.

“Right, are we all just going to sit back and lie to each other?” Harry said loudly. “Really? Because last I checked, Sirius, you and Remus are like brothers.”

“And we are,” Sirius said. “This version of him, anyway.”

“And did *the other version of him* tell you the reason he was in the bloody past in the first place?”

“Manners.”

“Don’t you dare tell me to mind my manners, James Fleamont Potter.”

“How on *earth* do you know my middle name?”

“Morning all. Are we planning to disrupt breakfast as well as break time now?” Remus suddenly appeared, dusting off his Gryffindor robes before helping himself to a slice of toast.

“Well?” James prodded both Sirius and Harry at the same time. “Who’s going first?”

A silent beat.

“No one?” James sounded quite like Professor Snape, which caused the rest of the table to laugh lightly and turn back to their own chatter. “Fine. It would appear that Sirius has a crush on—“

“Save it, Prongs,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “You can be rest assured, Potter, that I do not have any type of crush or romantic involvement with Remus Lupin.”

Remus spit out his orange juice at this, doubling up in laughter.

“Wha— *that’s* what’s got everyone so tense?” Remus asked. “Come off it, Potter, Harry Potter—“

“Stop using that bloody name!!”

“Lang—“

“Shut UP, James!!” Sirius roared.

“Bloody hell, ALL of you shut it,” Remus casted a silent spell, which left the Marauders struggling for words, but Harry remained unaffected. “That’s better. Should do this more often, might get some peace and quiet.”

He turned to Harry, who was still flaring with anger, especially after what Remus’ older self had told Harry in the Three Broomsticks that previous weekend.

“Well?” Harry asked.

“Harry,” Remus sighed. “I never had any romantic entanglement with Sirius, believe me. He is like a brother—I must say we got a bit carried away that night in the Shrieking Shack…but you’d best believe…I had no idea you were *there,* I just…”

“You just…what?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I could never have feelings for Sirius Black, because all of them are *currently* being saved up for *you,*” Remus finished. “You seriously think that I was…”

“It was pretty convincing,” Harry muttered.

“I have no idea what overcame my future me,” Remus said. “But believe me, *past me,* as you call me, only turns toward…you.”

“Well,” Harry stuttered, turning towards the rest of the Marauders. “Well, now that we’ve got that sorted out…you’d best give James his voice back before he chokes on air.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Remus grinned. “And I’ll breathe not a word to either of them, should you wish.”

“Dunno, I was planning to carve Remu and Harry in all the wood desks in school, what do you think?”

“Potter, Harry Potter, if you even attempt that…” Remus chuckled, then looked over at James with a devilish grin. “Oh, do we really have to give his voice back?”

“I think we do,” Harry grinned. “Even if the moment alone was bliss.”

“Bliss, hm?” Remus’ lips twitched into a smirk. “I’ll remember that. Fine, Prongs—Christ, don’t fall over your damn self…”

“Language, Remu,” James panted for breath dramatically. “What did we miss?”

“Any confessions of love?” Sirius batted his eyelashes.

“Shut it, both of you.”

But Harry and Remus grinned at each other across the table, which told the Marauders everything they needed to know. Sometimes, silent glances can speak louder than a million words.

The five got out the map and started to trace more invisible lines together in attempt to get the figures to move, poking at them with every one of their wands.

They would get this to work somehow.
……