In Another World

In Another World

A warm breeze bent the grass around the empty grave. The sun warmed the back of Remus' neck as he stood, head bent to stare silently at the pale headstone.

In another world, there would be no grave here. In another world, Remus would not be here at all, but with Sirius at Grimmauld place, joking about Harry's love life, or giving Harry advice. Better still, they would be outside somewhere, enjoying the clear summer day. The three of them together, alive, and at least for a moment, happy.

The people around the grave were silent - nobody could find anything appropriate to say. And what could you say? About a life thrown away, about a man who had so much promise, but was never given a chance. About a childhood with a family that despised him, about twelve years lost in prison, about those last two years of borrowed time...

In another world, he would have fallen beside the veil, stunned, but alive. After the battle, he would get up, shaken but relieved and happier than he had been in months - years, even - because he had finally gone out and done something. The Ministry would believe him then, they would listen to Dumbledore, and his name would be cleared. His face would be on the front page: "Innocent: New Evidence Proves Sirius Black Was Wrongfully Imprisoned". An apology from the ministry, an apology from the entire wizarding world. He would hold his head up high again, and fight for their cause and find a new meaning and purpose to his life. Even if the empty words couldn't bring back twelve years lost.

Yes, the ministry believed them now. And yes, Sirius' face was on the front page of the Daily Prophet, under that exact headline. But it made no difference now. It would not bring him back. It would not erase the damage.

Too little, too late.

In another world, the battle would never have happened at all, because Wormtail would not have escaped that night two years ago, because Sirius would have been cleared there and then. Wormtail would be in Azkaban, and Voldemort still a shadow of fear in the Black Forest. They would get on with rebuilding their lives, with raising Harry, with making up for lost time. And maybe then Remus would once again hear Sirius laughing, loud and clear, as happy as he'd been when they were still children. Maybe then his eyes would lose that haunted look.

That look had never disappeared, not entirely. Sirius had seemed happier while he was still on the run, even though he was living off rats and scrounging newspapers from garbage bins. But Grimmauld Place - it was a good place for Headquarters, sure enough. But it was not a good place for Sirius, not when he was virtually imprisoned there, in the house of his tortured childhood. Not for a whole lonely year, not when everyone else was out fighting, was out doing something. Grimmauld Place had brought back his darkness.

Could you blame him for wanting to make a difference? Could you blame him for wanting to get out? Could you blame him for rushing out, with no heed for his own safety, when Harry, the closest thing he had to a family, the closest link he had to James, was in danger?

Sirius had blamed himself, Remus knew, blamed himself for James and Lily. Twelve years in Azkaban had done nothing to dull the pain, to erase the self-loathing that haunted him. In his mind, he had betrayed them, because his mistake had cost them their lives. In his mind, the fact that he had only meant to help them became confused and twisted: to him, the mistake was as good as a betrayal...

Sirius had not betrayed them. Peter had.

Wormtail.

In another world, Peter would have been more confident, more talented, and not felt the need to hide behind the power of others. In another world, they would have helped him to be more confident, instead of teasing him for every clumsy mistake, instead of making him feel like a failure. Then perhaps he would have stood by them through the war. Maybe then he would have had a reason to be loyal.

Remus sighed, and brushed a hand through his hair (all grey now, though he was only just over forty). Life had dealt Sirius a lot of blows, so many more than he deserved. He had never even had a chance. And Remus was the only one left now - the last Marauder.

People were leaving now, some Disapparating, others walking away from the quiet graveyard. This was, after all, just another casualty of war. Only Remus and Harry would truly mourn Padfoot's loss. But even for them, it was time to go.

Life had dealt Remus a lot of blows, too. But this was the life he had been given, and the only one he would get. Regret did nothing. (But maybe, in another world, there might have been nothing to regret).

Remus took one last look at the empty grave and turned away. In another world, things might have been different. But he still had people to care about, battles to fight and a life still to live.

In this world.