The Way Back to Daylight

Author's Notes: Thanks so much to cursedinsanity for her speedy and thorough beta!

And thanks to everyone who's left a review! I'm now editing reviews and replying to them in green.

Also, apologies for the lateness of this update. I've had a lot of RL stuff to cope with lately, but I think it's going to be all right now.

Night and day lie open the gates of death's dark kingdom:
But to retrace your steps, to find the way back to daylight-
That is the task, the hard thing.

- Virgil, Aeneid, VI. 128-130 (Oxford World Classics Ed.)

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Chapter Eight

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Regulus Black wore Death Eater robes, splattered with mud from the field where they'd dumped his body. The pointed hood was torn and pushed back from his face, and the broken skull mask dangled from a cord around his neck. Like Snape, he was bleeding from a deep wound in his chest; and like Snape, he kept silent.

"Regulus? It's Remus. Remus Lupin. Do you remember me?"

Sirius's brother nodded, to Remus's relief. They hadn't spoken much at Hogwarts, or even later, when Regulus had tried to leave the Death Eaters. Then he'd been murdered on a Saturday night in 1979, while Sirius and James were at a Clash concert in London, and Remus was in Ireland trying to negotiate with banshees. He'd returned to find Sirius shocked and sullen, unable to attend the funeral because of his parents.

After weeks of nightmares and rages, Remus had suggested a visit to the Black family crypt, as a chance to say goodbye and put Regulus's memory to rest. Sirius had agreed without protest. So, early one morning, they'd huddled under the invisibility cloak and followed a group of grave-diggers into the London Wizarding Cemetery.

The crypt had been made of crumbling grey stone, with 'TOUJOURS PUR' carved above the entrance, half-hidden by a shroud of dark, bitter-scented ivy. The fall of the House of Black had been imminent, but Remus had still found the crypt impressive; outlined against the grey dawn, it had looked like the ancient tomb of a Pharaoh.

Sirius had opened the massive black door with his family key, one of the few things he'd taken from the house at Grimmauld Place. The door had creaked and Remus had caught a glimpse of silver urns, filled with ashes from the funeral pyres.

Then a hoarse voice had called out from the gloom, "Who's there? Show yourself!"

They'd leapt back, moving as one beneath the cloak. Sirius had hissed "Sniv -" before Remus had clamped a hand over his mouth and dragged him away, around the corner of the Malfoys's crypt. Their backs pressed to the cold white marble, they'd taken a few deep breaths, before turning to watch as Snape had emerged, his wand ready for a fight.

"It's you, Black, isn't it? Why don't you show your cowardly face?" Snape had snarled, his matted hair swinging as he'd turned his head, tendrils clinging to his cheek. His eyes had been red-rimmed, his pallid skin bearing new lines. "What are you afraid of?" he'd taunted. "Or is it guilt, Black? After all, you did this to him. You killed your brother, you arrogant, callous prig. Come out and we'll put an end to this forever."

Sirius had lunged forward, intending to do just that, but Remus had tugged him back by the collar. "Come on, Padfoot," he'd whispered, pulling Sirius away. "We'll come back another time."

Sirius had looked pale and sick, his palm pressed to his mouth. Much later, back at their flat, he'd sat bent over on the couch and muttered, "My brother - him and my brother -"

As far as Remus knew, Sirius had never forgiven Regulus. From then on, he'd spoken of his brother with scorn, and hadn't paid another visit to the crypt. If he'd known Regulus was trapped in a prison even worse than Azkaban, he might have been more forgiving.

Remus couldn't take his eyes from the heart-wound in Regulus's chest, and the dark blood pouring out. Regulus was shorter and stockier than Sirius, with heavier features, but his eyes were the same; they made Remus want to walk over and offer comfort, disregarding the consequences as he would have done for Sirius. As though sensing this, Regulus folded his arms and slowly shook his head.

Snape, who'd been standing beside the path, stiff and silent as one of the trees, turned abruptly and walked back to Regulus. The two men stood side by side, gazing at each other; then they shifted, as though about to leave.

"Wait," said Remus, moving to the edge of the path, as close as he dared. "I want to - I need to -"

Regulus shook his head again, pressing one thin finger to his lips. Remus knew what the gesture meant: there was no need for words. In this place, apologies were trite and meaningless, and offers of comfort were far too late. What might have made a difference in life would just serve as a reminder of failure and loss.

Remus nodded his understanding, and the lovers turned away. They were identical from behind, black and tattered, and Remus watched them go with a sick, heavy feeling in his chest. They were almost out of sight when he remembered.

"Regulus!" he called after them. Sirius's brother turned again, his face pale as the moon and shadowed by the trees. "I understand if you don't, but please ... let me know if you've seen your brother. Did he pass this way?"

Regulus nodded, and pointed in the direction of Minos's courthouse. Remus, startled, glanced back down the path. How could it be true?

"You saw him walk that way?"

Regulus nodded again.

"And ... and did he come back?" Remus asked haltingly, as his heart began to pound with fear. "Is he here, now?"

Regulus shook his head.

"Thank Merlin," Remus muttered, closing his eyes and wiping sweat from his forehead.

There was nothing left to say. When Remus opened his eyes, Snape and Regulus were gone, but the smell of old blood remained.

---

As he walked through the last part of the forest, Remus felt like he'd never be happy again; but when he reached the edge of the trees, he reconsidered. Beyond the forest lay flat, grassy plains that stretched to the horizon. Remus smiled as he stared at the knee-high grass and white asphodel flowers; finally, he'd reached the last region before Elysium.

The plains were populated by slain warriors, who spent eternity re-enacting old wars. Allies remained allies, enemies remained enemies, but there was no longer any chance of bloodshed. They were the eternal fighters, who'd chosen the path of warfare. Remus didn't expect to find his friends here; if it weren't for Voldemort and the Order, none of them would have been soldiers. James had dreamt of playing professional Quidditch, while Lily had planned for motherhood and a career with the Ministry.

Sirius had been more conflicted; he hadn't wanted to follow in his family's footsteps, but because he'd been groomed for a life of idle refinement, getting a job had been a strange concept to him. He'd talked about exploring the world and collecting powerful ancient artefacts, but he'd also talked about opening a club and throwing extravagant parties every weekend. At the time, they'd been living off Sirius's inheritance money and the paycheques Remus had brought in from a series of menial Muggle jobs. Sirius's talks about the future had always begun with "When the war's over, let's -" and finished with "I just want to live, Moony; that's all. Is that too much to bloody ask? Why do you always have to be so dour?"

Wishing he had a Penseive to clear out some of his memories, Remus paused to eat, drink and take a brief rest; then, after another swallow of Invigoration Draught, he set off across the plains.

It was a much easier trek than the forest, with a straight, clear path and the sweet smell of asphodel in the air. The sunset-orange sky was also a relief, after the looming trees. He wanted to step off the path for a moment and lie down in the grass, to feel its lush greenery against his skin, but he knew he'd never find his way again.

After about an hour, he was surprised to spot a man to his right, walking towards him; well, stumping towards him, on what soon turned out to be a false leg. The man was short and powerfully-built, dressed in bulky brown robes. His face was twisted with scars; it looked like the clay sculpture of a careless child. One of his eyeballs had been replaced with a blue glass globe, which swivelled around at a disconcerting speed.

"Moody," Remus called. "It's good to see you."

"Glad you've got your wits about you, Lupin," Mad-Eye Moody growled, as he hobbled right up to the path. "Did you have the sense to bring a flask or two of Ogden's Finest?"

"I'm afraid not. But could you drink it?"

Moody grunted. "Probably not. It's a hard death, let me tell you," he said, scowling. "Not that I'm complaining. Got plenty of company, and I still need to watch my back. Constant vigilance!"

"Constant vigilance," Remus repeated automatically; the words having been drilled into him during the first war. He could still picture Moody as he was back then, with fewer scars and more body parts, pacing in front of a blackboard in Order headquarters, 'Constant Vigilance' written in a thick chalk scrawl.

"What are you doing here?" Moody growled, as polite as ever.

"A prophecy quest, actually."

Moody scowled again. "A prophecy! A likely story. You're still chasing after that rogue, aren't you? Lupin, he's not worth half of you. And he's no Eurydice, that's certain."

"If you're talking about Sirius," said Remus, a bit stiffly, "yes, I'd like to see him, but I'm no Orpheus. I'm honestly here because of a prophecy."

"All right, all right, don't get your knickers in a twist," Moody muttered. "What's this prophecy, then?"

"Do you mind if we walk as we talk? I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"Doesn't worry me."

"Right then."

They walked side by side, Moody's magical eye fixed on Remus as he explained about Sybill, the prophecy and his journey so far.

"Snape and Reggie, those poor devils," said Moody, when Remus had finished. "Knew they'd come to a sticky end, but not that sticky."

"What do you think about Minos?"

Moody shrugged. "Sounds like Black caused a bit of ruckus," he growled, with a note of pride in his voice. "Maybe he took a detour on the way to Elysium, and gave Minos a piece of his mind? Interrupted some bureaucratic processes, most likely."

"Surely it was more than that?"

"The Underworld's just like anywhere else. Rearrange their filing system and they'll act like you've murdered their children."

"I suppose so," said Remus, reluctantly. He still couldn't explain how Sirius had walked in the wrong direction through the forest of mourning.

"You always worried too much," Moody growled. "Even when you were a boy. Why don't you ask Black about it? No use fretting like an old woman."

Remus frowned. "I'm not fretting. I'm ... I'm musing."

"Then why don't you put that mind to good use? Tell me the prophecy again."

"Two valued brothers have been lost; one roams the darkest region under daylight, while the other dwells in sunless lands. Only the wolf desires to follow the path of ancient heroes into darkness. He must seek the wizard who surpassed all others but could not fulfil his greatest wish. Together, they can petition the King to restore order."

"Well, I don't know about the brothers, and you've told me about the King. But what about the wizard? Surely you know who it is."

"I haven't the foggiest."

"Go on, boy; use that scholarly brain of yours."

"I'm telling you, I don't know. There must be at least a thousand dead wizards who fit that description. Even Merlin himself would do."

"Look, Lupin, if you were going to make a list, who would be at the top?"

"Voldemort, of course."

Moody's whole face, even his swirling eye, seemed to droop with disappointment. "Not him. He was nothing compared to -"

"Dumbledore," Remus cut in. "But surely Dumbledore wasn't unsatisfied? He was practically omniscient."

Moody looked more sombre than Remus had ever seen him; and considering Moody had delivered the news of Sirius's arrest, that was saying something.

"You didn't know Albus like I knew him. We were like brothers -- like your Black and Potter. We spent our youth fighting dark magic and pure-blood corruption. Then Grindelwald came along, the worst of the lot; well, back then we thought he was. After his defeat, we expected to spend our old age in relative peace. I'd never looked forward to retirement, mind. I was an Auror, always searching for another fight, another evil to cut down. But peace was just what Albus wanted: an ordinary life, a quiet place by the fire, and maybe a pair of socks to darn. I'm telling you, boy; I knew Albus. He was a brilliant strategist and the most powerful wizard alive, but because of that, he never got what he wanted."

---

The journey was long, and Remus was grateful for Moody's company. They shared war stories, but it was mostly Moody talking, telling bawdy and bloody tales from the war against Grindelwald; and from even earlier, when Dumbledore and Moody had been young men in the nineteenth century. Remus found himself laughing for the first time in days, maybe weeks. He even managed to sleep for a few hours, reassured by Moody keeping watch beside him.

Finally, the path branched into two paved roads. To the left was Tartarus, its smoke pouring up from the outlines of black mountains. Remus hoped he wouldn't need to journey there. To the right was Elysium, though he could see nothing but the golden turrets of Pluto's palace.

"I won't see you again," Moody growled. "Not allowed any further; those are the rules."

"All right," Remus replied. He gazed, for the last time, at the grizzled old man who'd trained him, bullied him and toughened him; but who had also loved him, and loved Sirius too, in his own way. "I won't forget you."

"Doesn't matter if you do. But tell Albus -- well, tell him you saw me. Minerva still alive?"

"She is."

"If you happen to see her, tell her I'm all right. And that the best man won, in the end. She'll know what that means."

"I'll tell her, don't worry. Goodbye, Moody."

Moody grunted, nodded, and then stumped away across the plains. Remus watched him for a while, before he turned and began to walk down the road to Elysium.

---

The sky grew brighter, and the plains became a garden. There were flowers more vibrant and perfumed than Remus had ever imagined, and lush trees weighed down by fruit: glittering golden apples, oranges bright and swollen with ripeness, pink-blushing mangoes as big as his head, and plump, ruby-red pomegranates. Herbs and vegetables grew too, all larger and more luscious than usual. Everything grew at random, without borders or sections, mixing chilli peppers and coconut palms, primroses and baobab trees.

Remus began noticing animals after a few minutes in the garden. At first there were only butterflies and bees, but then a grey cat slunk out from some bamboo and, after a frightened glance at Remus, scurried off into the shrubbery. Soon, Remus had glimpsed several hovering hummingbirds, two tapirs, a macaw parrot, an anteater, a kangaroo hopping by, and a giraffe craning its neck to nip leaves from a tree.

He would have liked to stay and see more, but the palace was so close, taking up most of the horizon, and he couldn't help hurrying towards it. Coated in gold and silver, with turquoise windows and a forest of turrets, the palace looked like it could house a whole country; though as far as Remus knew, it was only inhabited by Pluto, Proserpine and their servants.

He thought about the prophecy, and felt intimidated by the prospect of meeting Pluto. As he drew closer to the palace, he worried about confronting Pluto too soon, but then the path wended to the right, through a glade of poplars, pines and eucalypts, until it reached a golden gate set in a towering marble wall.

Remus remembered old Muggle jokes about meeting St. Peter at the pearly gates, but there was no one to greet him. The gate was too high to peer over, and decorated with many golden branches, all joined together into the shape of a tree. Remus reached deep into his pocket and pulled out the golden twig. After unwrapping it from his handkerchiefs, he walked up to the gate and wedged it into a gap, where it fused instantly.

"Proserpine, this is my offering to you: the last part of your golden bough to be found on Earth. Please grant me entrance to Elysium."

He opened his eyes, hoped it was enough, and then gritted his teeth as he pushed against the gate. It opened and he stepped through with one thought: I need to see Sirius.

---

Remus hadn't expected to see this house again. James and Lily had abandoned it to go into hiding, and the Death Eaters had burnt it to the ground soon afterwards. In December 1981, Remus had visited for the last time. The Aurors had cleaned up the mess by then, and there'd been nothing left of the house but a weedy patch of earth. Only the garden had remained, but Lily's rosebushes had been pruned down to bare stumps for the winter. Remus hadn't stayed long.

Now the roses were blooming, velvet reds and sunlight yellows, and the weatherboard house looked as it had when James and Lily had bought it: ramshackle, with a mossy roof and peeling blue paint on the window-shutters; a tilted brick chimney; and a flourishing glory vine covering the left side. The garden path, paved with flat grey stones, curled between the roses and led up to the wooden verandah. This was the house where Harry should have grown up: the house that James and Lily would have made their home, if they'd been given time.

Remus hurried up the path, up the verandah steps, and pounded on the door. He heard footsteps and held his breath, and then the knob twisted and he was looking at Lily. It was so strange to see Harry's eyes in her face; of course, he reminded himself, it was the other way around.

Lily was not quite the same Lily he'd last seen in 1981, when she and James had been about to go into hiding. She'd been thin and pale then, kept up every night by Harry and her worries for the future, but still with a determined set to her chin and a brisk, no-nonsense voice. This Lily was the same age, but she looked more like he remembered from school; her face was healthy and flushed, her thick hair tied in a loose ponytail, and she was beaming at him. He wanted to smile, too, but he couldn't remember how.

"Remus," she said, stepping forward to hug him.

When her arms passed through his body, she jumped back in shock.

"But you're ..."

"Alive. Yes." Then he choked and said, "Lily, I -" but he couldn't remember what he'd been going to say; really, he just wanted to stare at her.

She turned quickly and called into the house, "James! Hurry up!"

"James?" Remus whispered.

"Of course, don't be daft," she whispered back, with a cheeky smile. "You think that soft-hearted git would abandon me?" She turned and called again, "James! I mean it, get here right this instant! There's someone who wants to see you very much."

"It's not that I didn't expect him to be here," Remus explained. "I just ... you know, this whole way, I knew I'd be seeing you again. I knew it, but now that it's happening I'm not sure I -"

Just then, James appeared beside Lily, and Remus couldn't speak. When he saw James, standing there as plain and ordinary as ever -- his friend James with untidy black hair and a prankster's smile -- it was so odd and so familiar that it almost took Remus's knees out. He hadn't felt so much in such a long time; he was afraid he might cry.

"Moony!" James shouted, with a bright grin. He tried to give Remus a clap on the back, but then he pulled away, frowning and muttering, "That's not right."

"He's still alive," Lily explained.

James squinted through his glasses. "Is he, now? Well, that's easily fixed -"

Lily elbowed him in the ribs and he winced.

"Prongs," said Remus, helplessly. "Prongs, it's you."

"Of course it's me! You feeling all right, mate? You look a bit more tired than usual."

"I'm ..." Remus gave a shaky laugh. "I think I need to sit down."

"Right, of course, come in!" said Lily, and he followed her and James down the hallway and into the sitting room.

The furniture was all the same, and Remus took a sharp breath when he saw it: the striped saggy couches Lily's mum had given her, the Persian rug bought on sale, and the print of Monet's waterlilies above the fireplace. The coffee table was missing a leg, so James had propped it up with a stack of old school textbooks.

"We spent so much time in this room," said Remus, walking around slowly as he took it all in, before finally sitting down. "We drank and talked, and played Gobstones, and smoked and listened to records ... we were just kids."

"Well, we can do all of that again," James replied with a grin, flopping onto the couch opposite Remus and stretching out. "What did you think you'd find here? Us floating on clouds and playing harps? We were given whatever we wanted -"

"- so we kept the house just the way it was," Lily finished, smiling at James as she sat down beside him. "We don't want anything else."

"We miss Harry, of course," said James, giving Remus a solemn look. "At first it was bloody awful. Lily couldn't stop crying, and I just kept thinking - well, I thought he'd be joining us soon, anyway. But then he didn't, and we knew he'd be all right. We thought you and -" Lily shot him a sharp look, and he swallowed "- we thought he'd be in safe hands. Turns out he was, so all's well that ends well."

"We wish we could have seen him grow up, but the important thing is that he's happy and healthy, and he gets to live a full life; besides, it's hard to stay unhappy here," said Lily, her eyes shining. "I suppose after a while it just seems so natural and ordinary, to have left everything and everyone behind, even Harry. Existence continues, on and on, slowly and beautifully, and it's -" she paused, thinking "- it's the most wonderful feeling of contentment, Remus," she finished in a rush.

"I'm just - I'm just so glad to find the two of you like this," said Remus, managing a tired smile. "I'm overwhelmed. I can't believe it's real. But of course I need to see -"

"You must be exhausted," said Lily, cutting him off. "Why don't you lie down in the spare room, and then you can tell us all about it when you wake up?"

"But what about -?"

"Come on, Remus," Lily continued, briskly. She went to stand up, but James shook his head and gently pulled her back down, draping his arm around her shoulders; of course, she pushed it off. "James, stop manhandling me. Remus needs to rest; he must have been travelling for days, through who-knows-what, and -"

"And he's going to find out sometime. We should tell him now, just in case .... you know."

That was it, then. Remus wanted to leave the room or block his ears like a child. He was so numb, suddenly, and everything seemed still and quiet except for his heartbeat; the only heartbeat in the room.

"Say it now, Prongs," he said, leaning forward and holding James's gaze. "Tell me what's happened to Sirius. I need to know."

"Sirius is here," said James, quickly. "Don't worry about that; he's not in hell, he's here with us. But he's -"

"Is he staying with you?"

"Sometimes," James answered, sounding nervous; he avoided Remus's eyes by adjusting his glasses, an old trick. "He isn't exactly ... he doesn't stay anywhere permanent, not like me and Lily. It's really hard to explain. He comes here quite often; well, probably quite often. We lose track of the time a lot, because we can make the sun rise and set whenever we want. It isn't a real sun, you see. Anyway, at the moment we're not sure where Padfoot's run off to, but he always comes back."

Remus, boneless with relief, sagged back against the couch. "Thank Merlin," he whispered. "He's here. Why did you worry me like that?"

"Well, as James said, it's hard to explain," said Lily, matter-of-fact as ever. "Why don't we talk about it over tea and scones?"

"Thank you, Lily, but I can't eat -"

The front door banged open, and the three of them turned to stare as footsteps clunked along the hallway.

"That must be him," James muttered. "Fuck."

Remus got to his feet and felt the blood drain from his face.

Sirius walked into the room. Sirius, still dressed in the robes he'd worn while falling, and still with the same lines around his eyes and mouth, and the same pale, sunken-cheeked look to his face, and the same boniness Molly's cooking hadn't managed to smooth out.

Sirius was there in a moment, reaching out for Remus, trying to embrace him.

"Why can't I -" Sirius whispered, his voice broken, as his hands searched for Remus's body "- where ... are you even here? Can you see him, Prongs? It's Moony, he just ... I can't ... "

"He's here," said James, standing and walking closer. "He's -"

Remus met Sirius's eyes. "I'm still alive."

---

"Of all the stars I admired, drenched
in various rivers and mists,
I chose only the one I love.
Since then I sleep with the night.

Of all the waves, one wave and another wave,
green sea, green chill, branchings of green,
I chose only the one wave,
the indivisible wave of your body.

All the waterdrops, all the roots,
all the threads of light gathered to me here;
they came to me sooner or later.

I wanted your hair, all for myself.
From all the graces my homeland offered
I chose only your savage heart."

- Pablo Neruda, Sonnet XLVI