Calling Out the Dead

Twinkle twinkle lovely star

How I wonder where you are.

Up above the world so high,

A spirit in the midnight sky?

Twinkle twinkle lovely star

How I wonder where you are.

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Remus Lupin apparated right into the atrium at the Ministry of Magic. 'Fools,' he thought savagely, 'Voldemort came straight in here and they still haven't put up anti-apparition wards. And shouldn't there be a guard on watch?' Remus had planned on stunning and obliviating the guard, but was more angry than relieved that there was no guard present. It was sheer idiocy. Fudge being the supreme idiot, of course.

Remus headed directly for the lifts at the far side of the atrium. There was dim, ghostly light coming from a source he couldn't determine, and it cast the entire room in an unearthly and unhealthy gloom. He glared at the twisting golden symbols in the ceiling. The repaired statues in the fountain twinkled at him hopefully as he passed by. The heavy gilded gates of the lifts were sullen in the ghastly light. He pushed one back, and stepped into the lift. There was no light here, so he lit the tip of his wand. He pressed a button, and the lift shuddered down several levels before squealing to a stop.

"Department of Mysteries," the cool female voice informed him. Remus exited the lift, letting the gate clang shut behind him. He kept his wand lit. The same inadequate light he'd found in the atrium also pervaded down here, and Remus idly wondered what the point of having light was if you couldn't see anything by it. As he came closer to his destination, the mysterious and diffuse gloam gave way to those blue-flamed candles he so horrifically remembered. He hoped he never had to see another one. The dull flickers they provided were hardly better than the other light. His teeth chattered as he walked on.

It seemed like both and eternity and only a few seconds had passed when he found himself in front of the door. The plain, black, completely un-noteworthy door that led to the Department of Mysteries. This was the only part he was worried about.

It had taken months of searching to find the spell. It had taken weeks to figure out how to work the spell and brew the potion. Remus wasn't sure if he was relieved or ashamed that he could use the spell--necromancy was considered a very dangerous power, and was beyond any doubt illegal. But it hardly mattered; he would either be so happy if it worked that he wouldn't care if he were imprisoned, or he would die of grief if it didn't work and wouldn't care anyway. Going to prison seemed trivial. Getting into the Ministry of Magic at two in the morning had been laughably easy (if he had found it in the least bit funny). But still, as stupid as the Ministry was, they weren't utterly dim. Surely there would be a stealth sensory spell, an alarm, a jinx, anti-apparition wards...something protecting the Department of Mysteries. Remus couldn't believe that even Fudge would be so stupid as to leave this section unguarded after what had happened six months ago.

He was going to have to work like he'd never worked in his life. He would have to be through this door, at the veil, perform the spell, and be back out before any Aurors arrived. And he wasn't betting on being caught by Kingsley or Tonks. He'd have twenty minutes at the most, and he had to make it count. There were no second chances this time. This was his second chance.

He stared at the door. Figuring out how to get back to the veil had been almost as easy as breaking into the Ministry in the first place. He had asked Dumbledore to borrow his pensieve, and Dumbledore had lent it to him without question. He probably thought Remus wanted to see Sirius (if only in memory) one last time before letting him go. Well, Remus had wanted to see Sirius again, but he had no intention of letting him go. Oh no, certainly not. He had taken the memory of the battle last June out of his head so he could watch it carefully. He put it in the pensieve and watched it again and again until he had memorized the path Dumbledore had blazed through the Department of Mysteries looking for Harry. He had watched it so many times that he could navigate it in his sleep. He mentally ran his sequence list one more time, and reached for the door.

Remus hadn't known what to expect when he opened the door, so he wasn't sure if he was surprised or not when no klaxon blared to life at his intrusion. Of course lack of a siren didn't mean lack of an alarm, so Remus hurried on. He swept through room after room, whispering incantations and casting spells, until he finally made it to that room.

Even though Remus was trying to move quickly, he couldn't keep from halting as a thrill of horror washed over him from the terrible familiarity of his surroundings. The stone seat/steps, the dais, the crumbling arch, the veil--for one awful instant Remus was sure his heart had stopped beating. But the feeling was gone as abruptly as it had come, and he moved to the dais knowing that time was scarce and he had to get this done.

He sat on his heels in front of the veil. He opened the book (which had been acquired after a borderline illegal deal with some Egyptian woman he was quite sure was an actual necromancer). He turned to page 711. The spell was in English, and when he had discovered this, he was so far into his research that he had not been at all shocked. He had found a great number of similar spells, that is to say spells that could return someone to their body or resurrect an almost-but-not-quite dead person, written and magically encoded in English. Remus wasn't sure why this made him uncomfortable.

Maybe it wasn't the language, but the fact that he was about to perform necromancy. Before Sirius had gone through the veil, necromancy had terrified Remus. The very thought of anyone harnessing enough power to call forth spirits to bodies had filled him with dread--he couldn't imagine what horrendous deeds someone could act out with such spells. Which was of course the reason it was universally illegal. But it didn't matter to him now. The only important thing was to get Sirius back.

Remus had chosen this particular spell because it was especially aimed at bringing back people who were more displaced than dead. The spell wouldn't bring back someone who had got an arrow in their heart or had been avada kedravaed--it didn't work that way. There was nothing that could bring back a person who had died like that. There was no magic that could reawaken someone with such fatal injuries. But Sirius didn't have any fatal injuries. A fucking stunning spell had knocked him through that veil. And yes, for all intents and purposes he was dead. But the only reason he was dead was that veil--that boundary between the two dimensions. And if Remus could pull aside the veil, break down the boundary--even for a second--he could bring Sirius back.

And that was exactly what the spell was supposed to do.

Of course, that wasn't all Remus needed. Pulling back the veil and bringing the two dimensions together wouldn't do a damn bit of good if Sirius had no life force. Like Remus already knew, Sirius was technically dead. His life force had been snuffed out as soon as he vanished behind the veil, and for Sirius to truly come back, he would need life force.

That's where the potion came in. He had brewed the potion on his own, because asking Severus to do it would have been akin to walking into Dumbledore's office himself and telling the headmaster what he was planning. So he had concentrated all of his (barely adequate) potion making skills on page 806, and finally ended up with a midnight-blue potion that smelled vaguely like rain. He was almost certain he had got it right; it looked and smelled as the book said it should. Here was hoping.

He made sure he was on page 711 before starting.

He picked up his jar of potion, and drained it in three swallows. He took five

deep breaths, and began the incantation. He felt the potion taking effect; swirling around

in his blood and tugging at the corners of his soul. He faced the veil and spoke clearly:

Sirius Black, I call you out.

I call you back, from beyond gray doubt.

I call you back from the doom through which you fell.

I call you to the edge

Here to the veil--

Standing between the living and the have-lived.

I call you back to the world--

You are needed now.

Back from the Hinterland,

This my vow:

Half of what is mine,

Yours shall be.

My life for you,

Not ties, no fee.

Time split even--

No reverse, no about.

Sirius Black, have-lived,

I call you out.

Remus felt himself give a long, forceful exhale. A strange wind kicked up in the room, blowing counter-clockwise. The veil began to sway in the wind, being pulled this way and that. There was another rushing of wind, this one from inside the veil. The veil billowed outwards.

Sirius Black stumbled forward in the almost-gale, and fell flat on his face right in front of Remus. The wind quieted--and was gone. Eerie silence settled in the room.

Sirius stared stupidly at Remus for several moments, blinking slowly as if trying to remember something. Eventually he sat up. He was still looking at Remus, but his expression was now scared and angry. And then Remus heard four words in the voice he never thought he'd hear again.

Sirius was glaring at Remus, and Remus didn't care that Sirius was obviously furious when he spoke. Sirius was back, and nothing else mattered. Remus didn't flinch when Sirius near-shouted at him, "WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

Remus wanted to explain, he really did, but there was no time. Aurors could already be swooping down on them. Remus tucked the book under his left arm, stuffed the jar in his pocket, and grabbed Sirius' hand. He concentrated hard on Grimmauld Place and tried to disapparate, but couldn't do it. He heard a distant, high-pitched whining.

Well. If no one had known they were here before, they sure as hell would know now. Remus hauled Sirius to his feet and started running. Back up the stone steps, back through the room with the restored brains, and back to the revolving doors. Remus didn't waste any time looking for the door out--he had already marked it with a silver slash. They were in the time room, rushing towards the plain black door. Out the door and into the hallway, streaking past flickering blue candles. Remus could hear lifts clattering ahead of them. They were out of time.

He concentrated once again on Grimmauld Place, and hoped against hope that the anti-apparition wards didn't extend to the corridor. He pulled Sirius to a complete stop, focused his mind, and disapparated.

They reappeared silently on the sidewalk of number 12. They looked around to see if anyone had spotted them, and once they were sure that no memory charms would be needed, they hurried up the steps. Remus ran his wand down the place where all the bolts should have been, and the door swung inward with a small click. When they were inside, Sirius continued to glare. He opened his mouth, presumably to repeat his earlier question, just as Snape and Moody walked out of the sitting room.

There was ten seconds' ringing silence before Snape hissed, "What did you do?" Remus didn't have time to answer before Moody added, "You do know that I'll have to report this to Albus?" Remus didn't answer that one because it was too bloody obvious to even need an answer. Moody and Snape left, the sound of a wooden leg clunking on carpet the only noise that followed them out of the house. Snape cast a scathing glare at Remus before disapparating.

Remus didn't doubt that Moody would immediately tell Dumbledore what had happened. But no on would do anything until tomorrow night--the next meeting. They would discuss it then. Remus planned to tell everyone the truth. He would tell them exactly what he'd done, and why. And whatever Dumbledore decided to do was all right. Remus knew Dumbledore wouldn't send Sirius back. Besides the fact that Harry (and most everyone else) would be overjoyed to see Sirius again, Dumbledore knew that it would simply be a waste for Sirius to do anything but continue his life. Whatever Dumbledore wanted to do with Remus was fine. Remus didn't really care; he'd succeeded. But he was glad the Order meeting wasn't until tomorrow, because it gave him a chance to talk to Sirius alone, before everyone found out and either started hounding him for answers or started avoiding him. Tonight they could have some peace, and Remus could explain himself to Sirius before he had to explain himself to everyone else.

Remus closed the door gently, trying not to wake the portraits. When he turned back around, Sirius was still glaring at him.

"Sirius, let me explain."

"You'd damn well better."

Remus let out a small sigh, and motioned Sirius to follow him upstairs.

They went to Remus' room, and Sirius shut and locked the door as Remus sat down on the bed. Sirius turned to glare at him again.

"What the fuck were you thinking? You could go to Azkaban for this, you know."

"I know. And it doesn't matter."

"It doesn't matter? Remus, you could get thirty years. Necromancy isn't like being an unregistered animagus! This is seriously dark shit we're talking about here! How can it not matter?"

"It doesn't matter because you're alive."

"Yes, I'm alive. And for what? To live alone while you're in prison? To hide for the rest of my life? And at what cost, Remus? You just cut your own life in half! Do you realize that?! What the fuck were you thinking?"

Remus let out a choked yell that was halfway between frustration and anxiety. "I was thinking that I'd rather live half of my life with you than my entire life without you! I've lived without you before and I don't want to do it again. I'm almost forty. I figure I've got about a hundred years left, and I'd like to spend fifty years with you; I couldn't bear a hundred years alone. And don't say something about finding someone else--there isn't anyone else. There never will be. I love you, Sirius, and if I have to give half of my life for us to be together, so be it."

"You shouldn't have done it!"

"I had to!"

"Why?!"

"Because it was either bring you back or follow you! And I can't follow you. I have to be here for the Order. Harry needs someone he can talk to and trust. Because I'm too weak to let you go. I can't do it again. Because I can't forget what we could have had. Because everything I see and everything I hear reminds me of you. Because--"

"Stop it! You can't--this isn't--I know how to fix this!"

"Killing yourself won't fix this. The spell was clear on that. The life force I gave you was a gift. Even if you die I can't get it back. If you die it'll vanish. It won't extend my life expectancy to what it was before. I'll still only have fifty years left, and we won't be together if you kill yourself. It's not reversible, Sirius."

"So I have to live with this."

"No, but I won't live much past ninety either way. Please stay with me, Sirius. Please just accept this so we can be together for the time we have."

Sirius looked scared, and worried, and almost unbelieving. At long last he whispered, "OK." He leaned into Remus, and took a few deep breaths. Remus pulled Sirius to him, and rested his cheek on the top of Sirius' head.

"I love you, Moony."

"I love you too, Padfoot. Come on, let's get something to eat."

"But what if you go to prison?"

"We'll worry about that later. Let's just eat now."

They ate left over chicken in the gloomy kitchen. Sirius seemed unaware of Kreacher's absence, which was more than OK with Remus. He didn't think that now was the right time to tell Sirius about that. They didn't talk much during dinner, and returned to Remus' room in silence. They changed into some soft, worn pajamas of Remus', and they curled up together under the blankets.

They ate breakfast in stony silence the next day. And even though Remus knew that whatever happened next, he didn't regret what he'd done, he still couldn't avoid the tense and anxious feeling that settled over Grimmauld Place in the hours leading up to the meeting.

In the morning Sirius sat at the kitchen table and stared at nothing while Remus tried to focus on the Daily Prophet. He noted with mild interest that there was no news of any break-in at the Ministry. He didn't find it very surprising. What were they going to say? "Someone broke in, but we don't know who it was, what they were doing, or even where they went." Yeah, a stellar headline, that was. Regardless of that being a supremely stupid statement, Fudge probably didn't want to panic anyone with an incident which most people would attribute to Voldemort.

Beyond that, Remus didn't find much in the paper. By that point, Sirius had taken to pacing. He didn't seem to be listening when Remus offered him lunch, and since his pacing was making Remus dizzy, Remus decided to find a book and at least pretend to read. He headed upstairs to the library, leaving Sirius pacing circles around the table.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl, and Remus found himself staring at the clock, willing the hands to move faster. He gave up trying to read and simply sat there. Sirius came in nine minutes later, and sat beside him. They didn't talk, but Sirius leaned against Remus and joined him in watching time trickle by.

At a quarter till seven the doorbell rang, and members started to gather for the meeting. Remus saw Sirius cringe as his mother's portrait started screaming.

By seven-thirty everyone was there, and they were milling around the kitchen rather than the sitting room. Dumbledore was standing by the fireplace, and since all of the kids were here, Remus assumed that this entire meeting was going to be about him and Sirius. Dumbledore didn't bother with welcomes or announcements. He looked unusually grave when he said, "Remus."

Remus took that as his cue to start talking. He told them everything. His relationship with Sirius, for those who hadn't known, how he felt after Sirius went through the veil, how he found the spell, brewed the potion, and broke into the Ministry of Magic. He told them everything he could think of, and then some. He was extremely hoarse and very close to tears when he finally finished. It was now just past eight o'clock.

"I think everyone could use a break," Dumbledore said. "Please come back to the kitchen at eight-thirty. We will discuss further action, if any, then. And perhaps we'll have something to eat." Dumbledore sat down at the table as everyone else filed back upstairs. Remus went for his room, not wanting to be steamrollered with questions.

When he got there, he found Sirius sitting on the bed, apparently waiting for him. "That didn't go very well," Sirius said.

Remus pulled out the desk chair. "It didn't? I wasn't paying attention."

"No, you were too busy staring at the wall over Dumbledore's shoulder. Harry was shocked."

"I can imagine."

"And a few people looked angry, or frightened, or...something. They didn't look at all understanding. Although I'm scared shitless and maybe it's just me being paranoid. But if they really are upset, and everyone has a say in this discussion--"

"There's not going to be any discussion, Sirius. Dumbledore was just being polite. He'll have made up his mind by the time we get back there and they'll all go along with what he says, because we all know that it'll be the best course of action. So don't worry."

"You can say that all you want, but I'm still worried. Remus, aren't you even a little bit scared?"

"Yes, but I'm hoping for the best."

"I am too, but that doesn't stop me worrying. Did you see Harry's face?"

"No, I didn't see his face. But he'll get over it, Sirius. He'll accept it eventually."

"How do you know he'll accept it?"

"Because the alternative is losing his godfather, and he's not going to let that happen."

"He's going to lose me again one day."

"Yes. But that day is a long way away. He'll have a family by then, he'll have had time to be ready for it. It won't be like he's stranded or anything. It'll be OK."

"I really hope you're right," whispered Sirius.

The kitchen slowly refilled as eight-thirty rolled around. Dumbledore was still sitting pensively. Remus and Sirius were last into the room, and Dumbledore looked up as they entered.

"I have a plan," he announced. "A plan that will work, as long as each of you hold to your given word that you will do as I tell you."

A chorus of "I swear," "I promise," and "we will," followed Dumbledore's words.

"Very well." Dumbledore paused briefly. "We deny. Everything. We deny that Sirius died, we deny that Remus used a necromancy spell to bring him back, we deny that we know anything about the Ministry break-in yesterday. The only people who know the truth are either in this room, or are death eaters."

"And Neville and Luna," said Harry quietly. Remus heard him speak, but didn't glance at him. Remus had maintained his focus on the wall in order to avoid everyone's curious or condemning stares. He couldn't bring himself to look now.

"Can you convince them not to tell?"

"Sure."

"Good. As I was saying, the only proof that anyone has that Sirius went through that veil is the testimony of death eaters. Which needless to say doesn't amount to much. If any death eaters should say something to the Ministry, we will still deny this. We will refuse veritaserum tests on the grounds that we will not have our privacy invaded because of the accusations of death eaters. No one would challenge such a claim on our parts, and any further attempts of Voldemort or his followers to convince the Ministry of Sirius' death will be seen as an effort to discredit our side and spread mistrust. Remind people of this when you need to.

"No one will believe a group of death eaters if we deny this entire incident. So we deny it--wholly and completely, understood?"

A many-voiced "yes" was the reply.

"Excellent. This conversation does not leave this house. You are all free to go, as I'm sure many of you have things to attend to. Goodnight." And with that Dumbledore left, placing a hand briefly on Remus' shoulder before sweeping out of the kitchen.

*

Fifty-two years and seven months later, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black died in their bed in their house in Hogsmeade, where they had moved when life in the city became too much trouble. Harry, who had been dropping by almost every day, found them--lying together as he had so often seen them when he'd been living with them during his auror training.

He was sad that his godfathers were gone, but he was happy that they had been able to be together like they'd always wanted. And he couldn't have asked for better parents. He called the coroner, and began making funeral arrangements. He was thinking something cheery, to celebrate their lives. Maybe he would use Remus' old record player and some of his swing music.

The next day, the coroner alerted the Minister of Magic to suspicious circumstances surrounding the deaths of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. The coroner had discovered that not only did they both die of old age--unheard of for two wizards who were only in their nineties--but that they had both died at the same time. The exact same time, as if some spell had linked them together.

Accusations from people who remembered the whole fifty-year old mess (mostly the families of Death Eaters), had the Ministry reopening the case. All of the surviving members of the Order were called in for questioning. Molly Weasley showed up dragging along one of her great-grandchildren, and several aurors had pulled Severus right out of a meeting in his office--although how they'd gotten past the gargoyle Harry couldn't begin to guess. Fred and George were unavailable, as they were in New York working on management issues with their American chain of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Harry couldn't help but feel proud of Hermione all over again (as he was every time he saw her) when he saw the badge on her robes--Head of the Department for the Care and Control of Magical Creatures. S.P.E.W. hadn't gone far, but she'd made a world of difference in werewolf rights. Ron, who hurried in from the muggle liaison office, looked frazzled as he almost always did. Neville was in the Mediterranean looking for rare water plants, and couldn't be reached.

Everyone that the Ministry could bring in, they did, and they were all questioned repeatedly. But no one told.

No one said a word about what Remus had done. They agreed that it was possible that Remus and Sirius may have used some sort of binding spell on themselves, but they stayed true to the word they had given Dumbledore all those years ago. The people conducting the investigation tried to obtain a warrant for use of veritaserum, but couldn't get one due to lack of evidence. The Death Eaters who had originally made the claim of Sirius' death were now either dead or in no shape to give testimony.

The Ministry soon dropped the investigation, citing lack of evidence as the reason. That was certainly true, but Harry thought it was also lack of interest. Very few people cared what happened on one night almost fifty-three years ago, especially since both people who had been involved were now dead.

The questions stopped, and they all went back to their own business. Harry sold his flat in London and moved to the house in Hogsmeade. This auror business was wearing him down. Maybe he could teach. He'd always wanted to try his hand at a proper Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

So life continued, and the dead were allowed to rest.