Carve Me Open / r.l. + s.b. /

Running

"How selfish of you
To believe in the meaning of all the bad dreaming"

-via Metal Heart by Cat Powers

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

London, May 1980

Remus followed the Ministry official through a series of corridors and elevator shafts, wand in his pocket and folder in his hands. Dumbledore wasn't too far behind; his eyes flitted every which way as he took in the surroundings. It wasn't as if the old man had never seen the Ministry, but it was just much easier avoiding eye contact with a livid Werewolf and the uncomfortable new hire, Janine.

Of course, there'd been a row when deciding who would be visiting Sirius that Wednesday. With Lily so close to her due date, she could not fill in for Fleamont, who'd been out sick for weeks with Dragonpox. James wanted desperately to come, but with the birth of the baby nearby and tending to Monty and Mia, Lily refused to allow him more than ten feet away. It wouldn't have been fair, anyway. They had more to do than worry about this; at least, that's what Lily said with a sneer.

That's when the arguing started, forcing Remus to shuffle around the crowded apartment until he found a suitable outfit and the case file about 'the incident' each received following the April massacre. He'd left around eleven, leaving Lily hollering at the top of her lungs about their carelessness and a bitter taste in his mouth.

Remus didn't mind being reckless for the right people.

Remus did want to see Sirius. Yes, he wanted to see him with every bone in his body. However, the Ministry had rules: no touching, whispering, hugging, kissing, or anything that might lead to some sort of illegal exchange. Remus was allowed only his folder and a pen; his wand would be confiscated at the entrance to the policing level – two stories below their current location. It was difficult enough having to remain five feet apart from him. If he needed anything in the world, it was a hug from Padfoot.

"I must warn you," Janine sighed, "he's been a bit agitated these past few weeks."

Remus scowled, "You've postponed his trial date for another two months. How would you feel?"

"I don't make the rules, Mr. Lupin. I just do paperwork and give tours," she crooned, pausing to wait on the elevator.

It was true; she didn't make the rules. But, hell, she wasn't paid enough to get the short side of Remus' temper. There was no telling how riled up Sirius had been in his holding cell. Out of the four – now three – of their friend group, only Remus had been blessed with patience; it was dwindling.

The air was warm and sticky, and the trek down felt uncomfortable. Remus realized he'd imagined the crushing weight on his shoulders and chest and that it wasn't stifling. Sweat dripped down his spine, his once-presentable bloodied nailbeds hacking away at the lip of his file. Delicate red lines skimmed the surface. Janine and Albus weren't bothered by their encounter with the soon-to-be-convicted Sirius Black.

Remus almost slapped himself. Sirius would not be found guilty. With the delay came an opening; they now had more time to gather evidence supporting Sirius. The chances of the Order - or what remains of the Order - speaking up against him was relatively limited, and those who knew him well enough to know he'd never order the slaughter of his friends. The verdict might as well have been announced now; Sirius Black would be a free man.

While Remus had the last word, at least. Varga, Remus, and James had been searching for Peter Pettigrew since they had been interrogated by that erratic Auror. Naturally, they were unsuccessful. Remus had the impression that James was making little effort in the investigation either because he didn't believe his friends when they told him who the real traitor was (certainly not entirely) or because his son was due soon. Lily explained that if they wanted to raise him in a happy home far from war and death, they needed to act quickly with the realtor before everything good was gone. Remus wasn't sure which alternative he preferred.