“I know. I certainly made it easy to believe such things about me.” Remus leans into the hug, an arm around James as well. He never imagined he’d have this again; it’s bittersweet to hear that old nickname again in James’ voice. “It’s alright, Prongs. You know now.” That’s enough. It has to be. They can’t change it now.
The ache of losing Sirius again is still fresh enough to make him wince. “As I said, Peter framed him... not just for betraying us all, but for his own faked death and the actual deaths of a dozen Muggles in the vicinity. The Ministry was desperate to save face and put away Death Eaters as quickly as possible. His trial was a complete farce, and he was sent to Azkaban.” Remus is silent a moment, the guilt from not only allowing that to happen but believing he’d deserved nothing less overwhelming him temporarily. “He was there for twelve years before he managed to escape. For twelve years, I was convinced he deserved every second of being locked in that nightmare.”
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The ache of losing Sirius again is still fresh enough to make him wince. “As I said, Peter framed him... not just for betraying us all, but for his own faked death and the actual deaths of a dozen Muggles in the vicinity. The Ministry was desperate to save face and put away Death Eaters as quickly as possible. His trial was a complete farce, and he was sent to Azkaban.” Remus is silent a moment, the guilt from not only allowing that to happen but believing he’d deserved nothing less overwhelming him temporarily. “He was there for twelve years before he managed to escape. For twelve years, I was convinced he deserved every second of being locked in that nightmare.”