Anyone who ever had a heart
Wouldn't turn around and break it
And anyone who ever played a part
Wouldn't turn around and hate it.
Sunday 13th June 1976
Everything hurts, was Remus's first thought upon waking. The next thought was - where are they? No one had ever come. It was warm, too warm for June, and his heart would not stop pounding with the remnants of the wolf's frustration. He clambered to his feet, and staggered to the bed, dripping blood.
It was supposed to have been their final hurrah, he thought, miserably. They were supposed to chase unicorns. What had happened?
At once he began to worry - something awful must have taken place, something really terrible, for none of the marauders to come at all. Any one of them on their own might have been able to sit with him, at least, just keep him company. Even Wormtail.
"Good morning, dear," Madam Pomfrey entered the room quickly. She was more nervous than usual, he could smell it on her. Something had happened. Only he couldn't ask what, could he? "Oh, you poor thing, it's been a bit of a night all round, eh?" She began to heal his most pressing wounds.
"What do you mean, 'all round'?" He asked, trying not to sound too anxious.
"Oh... nothing, dear, nothing to worry about at all."
In the hospital wing, he would have tried to stay awake, but Madam Pomfrey stood over him to make sure he finished his sleeping draught, and he was out like a light.
"Remus? ... psst... you awake?"
Remus opened his eyes, bleary and irritated, to see the fuzzy image of James float into view. Just James's head.
"Prongs?" He croaked,
"Shh," James murmured, barely moving his lips, "Pomfrey won't let anyone in to see you, had to sneak in under the cloak. You ok?"
"Not really," He could feel the new scars already, without moving. "What happened? You didn't come."
His friend had an unfamiliar expression. Unfamiliar in James's features, anyway. Was it shame?
"I'm really sorry, Moony."
"Why?! What happened?" Remus asked again, his voice hardening. "I can't remember anything."
"It was... Godric, I don't know how to tell you."
"Try."
Where was Sirius? Why wasn't he here?! Remus wanted to scream it.
"Look, please don't be too angry with him, ok? He's an idiot, a bloody stupid idiot, but I don't think he realised, I don't think he meant..."
Ah. It dawned on Remus all too quickly.
"James. What did Sirius do?"
James had never once been dishonest for as long as Remus had known him. And yet, as the story poured out of him, it was still tempered with little white lies - whether they were meant to protect Remus or Sirius, it wasn't clear. Sirius hadn't been thinking; he had been reckless; he hadn't meant any harm.
But he had caused a great deal of harm, whether he meant to or not - and might have been responsible for much more.
"He... told Snape." Remus said, trying to get a grip on the situation, feeling a horrible, sick, prickly sensation beginning in his stomach and creeping upwards.
"Not... not exactly," James blinked, wetting his lips, "He told him how the willow worked, and Snape... you know what Snape's like."
"I know what Sirius is like."
