Paper Wings

To Understand

"... and Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow that night."

Splintery wood pressed against Remus' knees and the shack was silent but for the creaking of aged foundations. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "With Peter's information, he found them. He murdered Lily and James, destroyed their house... but, well, you know what happened when he tried to kill Harry Potter."

Remus glanced at Adam, who was listening raptly, then at Peter crumpled on the floor. His jaw felt wired shut, and the seconds ticked by before he spoke again, quiet fury in every word. "Peter must have fled the scene. You see, he'd finally revealed his treachery, just in time to see his master fall, and the only person who knew was... Sirius Black." Adam inhaled sharply, and Remus continued, words now struggling to keep pace with his buzzing thoughts. "He knew Sirius would kill him sooner or later -- waited for Sirius to find him, and -- I wonder... Sirius was always stronger and faster, but Peter got the better of him. Peter framed him for the murder of all those Muggles, for the murders of Lily and James. Sirius was sent to Azkaban, and Peter fled the country." Remus finished softly and pressed a hand to his eyes. Taking another deep breath, he looked up at Adam for... what -- reassurance? He was just a fourteen-year-old boy.

Wide-eyed with awe, Adam spoke, "If Binns told us stories like that..."

Remus smiled sadly. "History is sometimes -- sometimes it's more than what Professor Binns tells you. It's about... the decisions and mistakes that people make. About two months ago, I learned that Peter was still alive. I've been looking for him ever since. I had no idea until tonight that he was the one who betrayed us."

They both looked down at Peter, Stupefied on the dusty floor of the Shrieking Shack.

Adam asked, "How're we going to get him back to the castle?"

Remus considered this. He forced his mind to slow and think through the challenges now facing him. Peter had not admitted anything. The only evidence Remus had was flimsy, meaningless to someone who didn't know, didn't know that Sirius -- flashing grey eyes and mischievous smile -- could never have done those things, and Peter... Peter had.

But Adam was right; the first step was to bring Peter to the castle, and to find Albus Dumbledore. Remus smiled at the boy and was rewarded with a wary grin.

"So, that night..." Remus could almost see the wheels turning in Adam's mind. "They arrested the wrong wizard," he concluded finally, fourteen-year-old voice quivering a little for the first time in their brief acquaintance.

Hearing the words spoken by the young Gryffindor finally made them real. Remus nodded then looked away and said nothing more as he levitated Peter's inert frame through the door and into the tunnel.

***

They made their way through the tunnel towards the Hogwarts grounds. Remus had Adam swear not to tell a soul that there was a passageway beneath the Whomping Willow, and the boy reluctantly agreed, proud to be entrusted with such an important secret, but disappointed that he would not be able to share it.

As Adam emerged from the tunnel at the base of the tree, he was greeted by a cacophony of voices.

"There!"

"See, we weren't fibbing!"

"Adam!"

"You find Scabbers?"

Remus clambered out of the passageway, Peter floating behind him, and saw a small crowd of figures surrounding Adam Diggory. Bill and Charlie Weasley were looking triumphant and chattering wildly. Little Cedric threw his arms tightly around Adam's waist and clung to him with desperate five-year-old energy.

A terse voice rose over the din, "Adam A. Diggory! Where have you been? Explain your-- Remus Lupin? Is... Is that? -- it can't be -- Peter Pettigrew?" Behind the cluster of boys, Minerva McGonagall stared open-mouthed at the figures emerging from the Whomping Willow. When nobody offered an explanation, she narrowed her eyes and huffed. "Is there anyone else down there?"

The other boys stopped chattering and stared at Peter's floating, unconscious form.

"Sorry, Professor," began Adam, the only one of the group who seemed to have use of his tongue. "I did leave the school grounds, but it was for a really good reason. You see, Charlie's rat, well, I guess it's really his brother's rat, but that doesn't matter because he wasn't a rat at all, and--"

"We need to speak to Professor Dumbledore," Remus interrupted quietly. "It's quite urgent."

McGonagall wordlessly acquiesced and the party of seven wound its way up the dark stone steps of the castle. Inside they drew incredulous looks and whispers from the few students still about. Adam Diggory and his guests would no doubt be very popular once the story spread throughout the school.

Remus was in a daze, blindly walking up the stairs. His vertical orientation, he thought absently, was something of a miracle. Now that there was an authority figure involved -- and his former Transfiguration professor qualified as an authority in more than one circle -- Remus felt relief and exhaustion wash over him despite his worries.

He pushed them aside.

Sirius was innocent. Sirius would be freed from Azkaban. That was all that mattered.

***

Sooner than he had expected, Remus stood before Albus Dumbledore. His stomach squirmed guiltily, and he opened his mouth to apologise for trespassing on school property, for endangering a student, and for stealing a young boy's pet, but the headmaster spoke before he could form a single word.

"I had wondered when I would be seeing you, Remus," Dumbledore said.

Remus looked in confusion at the headmaster, whose uncanny ability to expect even the most unusual events never failed to surprise him. Dumbledore continued serenely, "I have had quite an odd assortment of owls concerning you."

"Owls?" Remus repeated.

"In January, Lady Jane Davenshirt wrote to inform me that you had rejected her offer, despite my assurances that you were the man for the job. Then I received a fascinating report from Severus Snape, an intriguing request from an old friend in the desert and, only this afternoon, the strangest relay from Molly Weasley: Arthur was curious as to why I'd sent someone from the Order to track Death Eaters in Brazil. Of course, I informed him that I would never dream of interfering with Ministry reconnaissance efforts, that his meeting with you was purely coincidence..." He exchanged a brief glance with McGonagall. "You have certainly set us a mystery and seen quite a bit of the world while you were at it. So yes, I had hoped to see you. But Mr. Pettigrew?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow towards the unconscious figure floating beside his desk. "This is most unexpected."

Remus smiled uncertainly. Not omniscient, then, but the man had an uncanny ability to appear so.

"I am certain," Dumbledore went on, "that this strange occurrence will require a lengthy explanation, and it is already quite late. Minerva, would you be so kind as to escort Adam, Cedric, and the Messrs. Weasley back to their dormitory? And boys, I need not remind you to respect the confidentiality of tonight's events."

Dumbledore looked over the top of his spectacles at each of the youngsters in turn. Cedric was holding Adam's hand. Charlie was dumb with awe at the wizard in front of him, and Bill nodded silently, chin high in the air to prove that he was tall enough to accept such responsibility. Professor McGonagall rested a hand on Bill's shoulder and herded the children out of the office.

Pale blue eyes regarded Remus. The weathered face was set in a frown.

"Now, Remus, where shall we begin?"

Remus felt light-headed at the thought of recounting the past few months.

"Perhaps you would like to sit down?" the headmaster offered.

Gratefully, Remus lowered Peter into one chair and sat beside him.

Dumbledore turned his gaze to Peter. "Stunned?" he asked. At Remus' affirmative nod, he raised his wand. "Ener--"

"Wait!" Remus shouted, then coloured and stopped abruptly. "Please. I'm sorry. Could we leave him until I -- until I finish my story?"

Dumbledore agreed, and the story began to spill out. Remus described the morning he had found the note, the search for its origins, the realisation that Peter was alive, the Death Eaters in France, dementors in the desert, Alim and Kamilah, The Nesting Dragon, his detour in Alaska and journey to Brazil, and finally his fortuitous meeting with Mr. Weasley. He stopped momentarily for breath.

"And then Arthur showed me a picture of his son's new rat. I recognised him immediately, learned he was here, and... well... found him." Remus gestured helplessly at Peter.

"Rat?" Dumbledore looked at Remus shrewdly. It was Remus' first mention of the Animagus form.

Remus swallowed, "Er... yes."

"Peter Pettigrew is an Animagus?"

"Er... yes." Remus looked intently at the whirring silver instruments on Dumbledore's desk. One spun several shiny spheres in faster and faster orbits, occasionally flipping a tiny orb high into the air and reintegrating it in the pattern when it fell. When the next one flew up over the desk, Remus reached out and caught it, then slowly rolled it around his fingers, careful to avoid the headmaster's eyes.

Dumbledore prodded gently, "I take it you have some idea why he hid as a rat all these months?"

Remus seized the opportunity to avoid discussion of illegal Transfigurations, and launched back into his story. He released the shiny globe and it zoomed back into its orbit. "That's exactly what I wanted to know. It made no sense. So I brought him back to the Shrieking Shack -- I don't know why I didn't come here first, especially after Adam Diggory followed. I suppose I wasn't thinking clearly...."

"Entirely understandable, given the circumstances. Continue."

Remus described the sequence of revelations in the Shack, speaking faster and faster. "It wasn't what I expected. We... We've been wrong-footed this entire time." He paused, unsure how to continue. "It wasn't Sirius, you see. It was never Sirius. Peter was the traitor all along. That's the only way he could have known about the Potters' secret. One solution to every question -- it's so simple I can't believe I didn't see it before. Sirius didn't know who to trust, so he led everyone to believe that he was the Secret-Keeper. He thought that the spy," Remus swallowed hard, "would send Voldemort to him, and so, secretly, he switched. It would have been brilliant if Peter wasn't... hadn't..." Remus' voice faded, his verbal fire finally extinguished.

Dumbledore slowly ran a hand over his beard. "I am still curious," he said after a moment's pause, "as to how both you and Sirius knew that Peter could take the form of a rat."

Remus hesitated, then decided that Sirius' innocence was worth more than the consequences of breaking a pact sealed in blood. He knew that James, wherever he was, would forgive him for giving up the secret he had kept for so many years. Looking at the polished wood of the headmaster's desk he took a deep breath and said, "Peter mastered the Animagus transformation our fifth year."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, "Alone?"

Remus shook his head without looking up.

"I see," Dumbledore replied. Remus stole a quick glance up at him, but the wizened face was as neutral as ever, his fingers steepled and his eyes unreadable. Then Dumbledore did something Remus hadn't expected; he smiled. "Extraordinary," he breathed. "Not the least for keeping it from me."

"Professor," Remus began after a minute's silence. "There is something I'm curious about as well."

"Just one thing?"

"How could this message fly all the miles it did? It was just a simple spell, a clever trick for children."

Remus drew the worn bit of parchment from his deepest pocket of his old travelling cloak. He presented the note to Dumbledore, closing his eyes as the professor read it. He could see the words clearly; they were indelibly etched into his memory after following them for so many months.

Cut off finger and transformed. Find the Rat. For me.

I found him, Remus said to himself. He looked back at the headmaster.

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully.

"Ah, Mr. Lupin -- Remus," he said, smiling slightly, "that is magic at its most mysterious.

"There are some who believe that the deepest desires of our hearts weave the strongest spells, that it is this secret power, undefined, unclassified, and vainly studied by scholars through the ages, that accomplishes the most amazing magical feats. Those who believe would say that it is capable of calling the ones we are in need of across any distance. Whether that is true or not...." He stared past Remus, looking at something only he could see.

The man, Remus thought ruefully, was becoming more and more inscrutable with age.

As the silence lengthened, Remus began to wonder if Dumbledore even believed a word of his story. The tale was more absurd in the retelling than it had been to live. Some who believe, he'd said. Most, Remus was certain, did not. The old man refused to meet his eyes.

Remus felt heat rise to his cheeks and was about to resort to his second plan -- kneeling in front of the headmaster and pleading for him to help -- when Dumbledore finally spoke.

"How do you suggest that we convince the Ministry to release Sirius Black?"

"I--" Remus stopped abruptly. Dumbledore believed him! Convincing the Ministry seemed a miniscule task by comparison. Dumbledore believed him and--

Remus looked down at Peter, crumpled in the cushioned chair, and his smile died.

Dumbledore regarded Remus solemnly. "He made his choices," the headmaster said quietly, now turning to Peter's unmoving form.

"That letter he wrote," Remus said slowly, "more than a year ago... When I read it, I thought he was on about a girlfriend. But now I think -- I think he was going to confess that he had been passing information. I think he was going to ask forgiveness, to try to undo the damage he'd done."

"Did he ever send the letter or confess?"

"No," Remus admitted, then added more forcefully, "but he couldn't. I wasn't there for him anymore." Peter had no one to turn to, and it was my fault. Sirius didn't trust me because I left...

"Don't blame yourself," the Headmaster said firmly.

Remus clenched his teeth and quashed his guilt. He had to free Sirius. Frowning, he said, "Veritaserum won't work."

"No. Veritaserum is not permitted for human testimony. That is one of the Inalienable Rights."

"They'll never believe Sirius sent the note."

Dumbledore agreed. "It is unprecedented."

"Witnesses said they saw Sirius annihilate the street," Remus reluctantly offered.

"Perhaps they did not see what they thought they saw."

"We all, yourself included, gave testimony that Sirius had been the Potter's secret keeper." Remus frowned. Then his eyes lit up. "The Parrot -- Snape's Dictastone! I recorded the conversation; Malfoy told Karkaroff he suspects the traitor is dead. He must have been talking about Peter. He knows Peter led Voldemort to the Potters."

"Lucius Malfoy is a powerful name at the Ministry," Dumbledore reminded him gently. "The Wizengamot is unlikely to believe that he has been consorting with known Death Eaters, much less that he withheld valuable information from them. His recorded words are ambiguous at best."

Deflated, Remus thought for another minute. Sirius was innocent. There had to be some proof, some evidence somewhere that would set him free. "What about the wands? Neither has been used since that night. Peter was about to tell me where his was, just before I stunned him. We have to find the wand that cast the curse. The Reverse Spell Effect doesn't lie."

"Black's wand was snapped, and Pettigrew's destroyed in the blast. He was lying to you in the Shack."

After another brief silence, Remus speculated, "The dementors that followed Peter to Letaq -- they must have been sent by someone at the ministry, someone who knew Peter was alive."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth turned up again. "It does seem that somebody knew, or strongly suspected. It may help."

"What do you think? What do you think will convince them?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Very little, I am afraid. Sirius, when apprehended, did not act like an innocent man."

"He wasn't given a chance," Remus snapped.

"No, he was not." Dumbledore smiled indulgently. "But the Ministry, and those who support it, will claim no wrong was done. Minister Bagnold looks fondly at her legacy, and she hopes to end her tenure with the thrill of victory, not the taint of scandal. I fear only one man has the power to make others see the truth." He looked significantly at Peter.

"He won't confess."

"No. Likely he will not."

"But we can try?" Remus asked, with the hope of a child and the resignation of an old man.

"I will contact the Minister of Magic immediately," Dumbledore assured him. "For tonight, however, I suggest that you rest, Remus. There are spare bedrooms near the staffroom, as you will no doubt remember from your schooldays."

Remus blushed.

"I must speak to several people. With luck, we will go to the Ministry in the morning."

"And him?" Remus indicated Peter with a small tilt of his head.

"I will ensure that he does not... scurry away in the middle of the night. I plan to question him myself when he wakes."

With that, Dumbledore dismissed Remus.

***

He walked slowly towards the guest quarters. The castle smelled like long-finished feasts and accidental potions, and the corridors were hushed and dark this late at night, portraits snoring loudly. The stone felt the same underfoot, but Remus walked lighter than he had in months, even years, as though nothing but the weight of his shoes held him to the floor. He knew that he should be tired, but the thoughts buzzing around his head threatened to hold sleep at bay. Portraits smiled and grumbled at the wandlight as he walked past, but he ignored them. Tomorrow. He stood at the entrance to the Great Hall and gazed at the starlit sky mapped above. Tomorrow.

Remus' chest was tight, too tight to breathe. He felt prickling heat behind his eyes, blinked quickly and shook his head. Hurriedly wiping the back of his hand across his face, he turned on his heel and walked back to the spare bedrooms, allowing his feet to lead the way. Tomorrow.

He found an empty guest room with a fire already lit and candles glowing softly. Remembering that his case was in the Shrieking Shack, Remus shrugged and, still in his travelling cloak, collapsed onto the bed. He cradled his head in his arms. Exhaustion overwhelmed him at last, and he fell asleep.

***

"You did it."

"Almost"

"No, you did it."

"What else could I do?"

"No one else could. I'll be with you soon." Calloused fingers gripped Remus' wrist, the heat of them travelling through his entire body.

***

Remus drifted slowly from sleep, savouring the heat in his blood. A secret smile played over his lips and he touched his wrist, half expecting to find fingerprints traced in the flesh, though he did not know why.

Soon, very soon, he would see Sirius again.

With that thought to comfort him, he opened his eyes, shook away the shadows of dreams, and readied himself for the day. On the chair against the opposite wall a set of freshly pressed black robes had been laid, and his case had been set on the floor beside it. Remus rose and climbed out of bed, stretching as he walked across the room.

A note lay on top of the robes, written in a tidy flowing script:

Remus,

These might come in useful before the Wizengamot today.

It was from Dumbledore. That man really doesn't miss a trick, thought Remus appreciatively.

***

Fresh from a shower and wearing the new robes he had donned under the haughty eye of the Beroness in the portrait over his bed, Remus made his way to the Headmaster's Office. He passed Adam Diggory who was walking down to breakfast with the rest of the Gryffindor team.

"Good luck!" Adam said cheerfully.

"You too. Win for Gryffindor!" Remus smiled widely and waved, much to the amusement of Adam's mates.

Then he walked on towards the headmaster's door, mind whirling as he concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other, light-headed and drunk on the morning light that flooded through the castle windows. He watched the long, thin shadows change with every step, listened to the distant hum of students rising and readying for the game.

The pride of accomplishment swelled his chest, threatening to burst.

But the image of Peter's face dwelled in his mind, Peter calculating the cost of his own life in the blood of his friends, weighing sacrifice against deceit, an equation unbalanced.

He recalled the raw pang of shock, the images from the Daily Prophet, condemning Sirius to life in Azkaban. Manic laughter and the burn of hatred, clenched jaws and balled up fists, and Why?

Lines deepening in Dumbledore's wise old face as he looked down at Peter. The weight of guilt descending. The traitor for the innocent man, the remainder, the precarious equilibrium.

The staircase shifted underneath him, carrying him to the proper corridor. He had spent years trotting up these steps; he understood their patterns, knew their ways.

A wide, taunting grin and swish of black hair, two dark-haired boys walking ahead of him and the glint of a Golden Snitch.

A body pressed against his, clutching his shoulders, slick with sweat, shuddering with pleasure. Remus shivered in the morning sun.

He remembered the hearing, the knot of doubt in his throat and rings of tiered stone seats, the drip of cool liquid on his extended tongue, a final thought, a loss of control...

Remus whispered the password, "Jellylegs," and the massive stone gargoyle began to turn. He entered the rising stairwell and ascended to the headmaster's antechamber. Dumbledore was waiting, dressed in deep purple robes with a silver 'W' pinned to his shoulder. His long beard and grey hair flowed down to his waist, and his eyes were deep and concerned, no trace of their usual merriment.

"Remus," he began solemnly, "I want you to understand that today will be very difficult."

Remus nodded. "But Sirius is innocent," he said simply.

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "I have a plan, but as they say--"

Gang aft agley.

"--I have no power to make other men see the truth."

Remus paused. In his mind, the battle was over, won. If Dumbledore knew the truth, everything would be okay. It was the first time that his former headmaster and mentor had ever shown such doubt.

"Why wouldn't they?" he asked cautiously.

"There is more at stake here than a man's life, and pride is sometimes more powerful than the truth. The Minister is a proud woman, though she endeavours to be fair. Bartemius Crouch, however, will not readily admit his mistakes."

"Crouch? Will he be there today?"

"He will be defending the Ministry's position."

"Why?" Remus asked sharply. "I thought he had left the department."

"Crouch, as you know, was ready to take his place as the next Minister of Magic, but his son's involvement with Voldemort's followers caused him great personal anguish. He has since lost both son and wife, one to the dementors, the other wasted away in grief. He will soon be asked to step down as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and is trying to regain the popularity he once had. He views this trial as a defence of his tactics as much as it is a defence of Pettigrew, and desperate men fight the hardest in their own defence."

Remus stared intently at the seam between two stones in the wall.

"Peppermint?" Dumbledore asked.

As Remus sucked on the cool candy, contemplatively rolling the hardened sugar and spice on his tongue, he listened to Dumbledore's words. He nodded when his approval was needed. He reviewed his own testimony in his mind. Finally the headmaster fell silent.

"Remus," Dumbledore said, as the strong morning sun shone through the window. Remus felt its warmth on the skin of his hands; spring was fast approaching. "If you could satisfy an old professor's curiosity?" A little smile played along Dumbledore's lips as he waited for Remus to meet his eyes. "What forms did the other two take?"

"Forms?" Remus asked. Then his mouth snapped shut and his eyes opened wide as he cottoned on. Taking a deep breath, he replied, "Oh. James was a stag. And Sirius is a dog."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily. As he turned towards the office door, Remus heard him chuckle softly under his breath, "A great black dog, no doubt..."

Preparations complete, they walked inside.

Peter cowered by the headmaster's fireplace. Apparently, Dumbledore had offered clean robes to him as well, though Peter looked as though he would rather melt into their deepest folds than wear them properly. His hair was clean and shiny, his skin freshly scrubbed, face pleasantly round. Clearly, life as a fugitive rat for the past five months had not wasted his boyish figure. He and Remus gauged one another across the room in stony silence.

"I suggest we make our way to the ministry," Dumbledore said calmly, glancing at the clock over his desk. "Yes," he mused, "they should be gathering soon."

Dumbledore extended a hand, revealing a large plaque emblazoned with the Minister's seal, and indicated for Peter to step over and touch it. Remus followed, hesitating a moment before bringing his hand so close to Peter's. He felt an uncomfortable jerk from just behind his navel and the world spun out of focus.