Chapter Text
Smoking wasn’t something Remus was proud of, even if they had little to no health effects on Wizards. Then again, everyone smoked these days, and if they said they didn’t, they were lying. However, they all had their reasons. People like Sirius and James smoked for the devil may care aesthetic. It was to emulate Sid Vicious or Keith Richards or any other guy in a leather jacket. Peter smoked because James and Sirius did.
Remus smoked because, well, he was bored the summer after his fifth year, and the girl in the petrol station down the road found him charming. After smoking the day of the full moon, he noticed that his body, usually wound so tight, would loosen with every drag. His anxiety would expel with every breath, even if it only lasted for ten minutes. It quickly became an addiction. Remus was often found sitting on the ledge of the open dormitory window, ducking his head out to not make the room smell.
Then came the summer after his sixth year, when the same girl from the gas station sat next to him on a decrepit wooden benching facing the sea. She nodded at him before lighting up a handroll. Remus had never actually seen one before, and there was no way in hell he would be bothered to ever learn how to roll them for himself, no matter how much cheaper it was.
“Evening,” The blonde nodded, a multitude of metal bracelets clinking as she flicked the ash off her fag.
“Remus,” He offered, extending his hand to her, politely closing the book on his lap. “It’s a bit rude of me to only be introducing myself now.”
“No, I quite liked the enigma of the mysterious boy who reappears every summer with a slightly different accent than the last,” The corner of her mouth quirked up as she supplied him with a firm shake. “Rhiannon.”
Remus almost scoffed at the irony; it was like the second she listened to her Fleetwood Mac song, she’d turned it into her entire personality. What, with all the bracelets and flared sleeves, a braided headband across her forehead. Instead, he smiled and huffed a laugh, his hand retreating to trace the bindings of his book.
Remus gave an excuse for the disappearance and the accent, “Boarding school.”
“Sounds like a bore,” Rhiannon drawled, tilting her head back and taking a deep breath. She handed him her fag and watched as his brows furrowed before coughing and looking like he’d been assaulted.
“The fuck is this?” Remus’s voice was thick with smoke as he tried to keep his lungs in his body. It was only then he noticed it didn’t smell quite right. A blush crept up his cheeks as Remus timidly asked, “Is this skunk?”
Rhiannon laughed, nodding while gesturing for him to take another drag. Pulling herself together and shivering slightly in the coastal breeze, she replied, “I was right. Boarding school is a bore.”
Remus thanked his lucky stars every day for that meeting; thanks to Rhiannon, he spent the rest of the summer in a stoned haze with his arm around a pretty girl. Needless to say, he was building a steady stockpile to take back to Hogwarts in September. He was too scared to write about such substances in letters to his friends, even to Sirius, who he knew would probably fall off his chair at the mere mention of drugs.
Not to mention, if he managed to get as stoned as possible just before moonrise, he would be barely conscious during the transformation. The wolf would be too out of it to do any real damage for at least a few hours.
The day before he left for Hogwarts, Remus trotted over to Rhiannon’s tiny cottage. A strange rock in the bottom of his stomach that blossomed into a boulder when she opened the door, incense wafting out. They both knew he was leaving the next day, while it wasn’t goodbye forever, it was still a fair while.
Rhiannon’s room was as close to magical as a Muggle could get. The beads, the sun catchers, the tapestries and a constant stream of music created an atmosphere that drowned out everything. Even the crystals and tarot cards she loved so much brought her closer to magic. There was one time where she called herself a witch. Remus almost lost his mind.
Sitting with his knees to his chest, a spliff between his lips and a deck of tarot cards fumbling between his fingers, Remus soaked in as much Muggle magic as he could. Rhiannon put her head on his shoulder before fiddling with his fingers, tracing the scars she never asked him about.
“I have a gift for you,” She whispered, pulling something out from under her pillow, “I know there’s four including you in your poncy little group, but half each will be enough.”
Remus’s brows raised up into his shaggy fringe, grabbing the plastic bag from her. He fingered the two small squares of paper decorated with smiley faces.
“LSD, Remus, a bit of magic in an otherwise depressing world.”
Remus was a little sad to be getting on the train. He hadn’t felt sad to be getting on the train since the start of first year. Hogwarts was nowhere near as welcoming to him as Rhiannon’s room, even if it did feel like home. The only room that would come close was the Divination class, which Remus was beginning to regret not taking. Perhaps Marlene wouldn’t ask questions if Remus started hanging out with her some more, she always carried a tarot deck.
“Hey Remus,” Peter sighed, smiling gently before plopping into the seat across from him. They were the first of their friends to get on the train. “Your summer sounds like it was definitely something.”
“Yeah, well, Wales isn’t so shit after all,” Remus laughed, “In fact-”
“Moony!” The booming voice of Sirius Black overtook the entire compartment, probably the whole carriage too. He slapped a hand on the back of Remus’s shoulder as he sat down next to Remus. “Who would’ve fucking thought you’d be the one shagging a bird all summer.”
“On a scale of Parkinson to Evans, how fit is she?” James stared at him with owlish eyes, taking the spot next to Peter by default.
“Uh,” Remus rubbed the bridge of his nose, furrowing his brows. “I mean- she’s like- kinda like a mix of Lily and Marlene if they were raised by Stevie Nicks?”
“Who’s Stevie Nicks?” Peter frowned.
“She’s literally a witch, Wormy,” Sirius replied.
“Stevie Nicks is an American singer, more popular with Muggles, though,” Remus replied. “Anyway, the bird, whose name is Rhiannon, I swear she was meant to be a witch. Maybe in another life. It was like- She’s- it was a different type of magic. I think I need to take up Divination.”
“Take up Divination for a Muggle bird? Moony, taking Divination? The most stupidest class ever, it must be love,” Sirius smiled, reaching into Remus’s pocket and pulling out the pack of cigarettes.
Remus sighed and shook his head, looking back down at his book, “Stupidest, not most stupidest.”
James and Remus left for the prefect meeting shortly after the train departed. James being appointed as Head Boy had been a shock to the system. Remus thought it was a prank, a weird one, albeit. In fact, he’d believed it was a prank up until James pinned the badge to his robes as they walked down the hall. You would have to be daft to not question Dumbledores reasoning. Of course, James was a good person at his core, but he was far from Head Boy material at a surface level.
To say Remus wasn’t left alone after his return from the meeting would be an understatement; even during the feast, he could barely get a mouthful of food with Sirius first jumping down his throat. He couldn’t help but flush bright red when half the Gryffindor table turned to look at him after Sirius all but yelled about shagging on a bed of rose quartz.
He was starting to feel guilty about being sad to come back to Hogwarts. The sight of Sirius’s smile made him feel a little warmer, the lump in his throat grow a little larger. The peculiar way James’s hair stuck up was a familiar comfort, even if it did change patterns every day. Even Peter’s upturned nose was something to be missed.
At some point, Remus blocked his friends out, his total social interaction for the day having been used up in the past few hours. This was typical behaviour for Remus, so the others happily continued their conversation without him. Sirius used to find Remus shutting down rather offensive; Sirius doesn’t quite understand different socialising styles. Leaning on one hand and force-feeding himself steak with the other, he felt a gentle prod in his side and a waft of oaky vanilla perfume. Lily gave him a small smile as he turned to look at her, which he returned and sat up.
Summer had given Lily a chance to explore herself; it was evident in how her appearance differed to mere months ago. Black lined her eyes, a shade of light blue donned her lids, and both colours were smudged slightly in the corners where she had been rubbing. Beaded earrings dangled past her jaw, rattling with every movement. Remus guiltily felt she looked quite pretty this way.
“Sounds like someone had an interesting summer, hm?” Lily smiled playfully, “So interesting I think this is the longest James has gone without asking me out.”
“Well, I’m glad I could provide you with a moment of solace,” Remus laughed, “How was your summer?”
Lily shrugged, textured waves bouncing as she did so. “Same old, same old. I got a job at the grocery store near my house. I got a 75% discount, and before you ask, yes, I got you those fags you liked.”
“Oh, ace! You’re an angel; I could kiss you,” Remus grabbed her hands and squeezed. “That’s a decent discount too, helpful place to have one. I kind of wished I got a summer job to save some money, but you know, can’t hold one down.”
Lily did know. She’d found out in the year just past. In typical Lily fashion, she’d been incredibly kind about the whole thing. As awful as she knew the conversation would be, she knew that it would be the best thing to do to just tell him. Harbouring secrets never did anyone good. She hadn’t even asked if it was true, just told him straight up what she knew.
Remus considered Lily one of his closest friends- third to only James and Sirius. They’d grown closer over fifth year after regularly studying together. Ashamedly, Remus was the one who had gotten her hooked on cigarettes. Of course, many of their friends had started smoking by then, and Lily felt left out, so she’d shyly asked Remus if she could try one during one of their study smoke breaks.
After Lily’s Dad had been diagnosed with cancer towards the start of O.W.L season, terrible timing, Remus had been the first person she told. Oh, how Lily had sobbed and sobbed into his knit jumper. Remus didn’t offer pity. He had listened and hugged her and simply let her get everything off her cheat. Somehow, Remus always knew what Lily needed.
“I’m sure you can find shift work somewhere, Remus. Muggle or otherwise.” Lily gave a sad smile. “Anyway, James and I have to herd some first years or something. Pray for me, Remus.”
Not smoking for over twelve hours was what Remus considered to be his own personal Hell. The first fag after a ‘tolerance break’ was always the best one. Especially when Remus was sitting on the windowsill with Sirius Black, their legs bent at their knees and intertwined with each other. It was even better when the dormitory was void of any other person.
Remus smiled at Sirius, stubbing out his cigarette before jumping off the ledge and heading to his trunk. He rifled through it all the way to the bottom and pulled out the metal cigarette case Sirius had given him for his seventeenth birthday, his smile growing wider with pride, “Sirius, what do you know about weed?”
“Uh,” Sirius frowned, “Gillyweed?”
“No, no,” Remus opened up the case, pulling out a stuffed plastic bag, as well as a joint.
“Weed!” Sirius’s eyes widened. “Like, drugs weed? Like, get high weed? Merlin, you were busy this summer.”
Remus nodded. The thought of sharing such a beautiful thing with his best friends filled him with the kind of excitement that bubbled up from his stomach to his throat. “Yeah, I have enough to last the four of us until at least New Years if we ration it. I need to make sure I have enough for full moons, though. Even Merlin himself couldn’t make the moons as easy as dope does.”
Leaping off the ledge, Sirius landed in front of Remus and plucked the jar from his hands. Opening the bag unleashed a stench that made Sirius scrunch up his nose as he studied the bud, prodding it around with his fingers.
The lankier boy of the two yanked it back from him, frowning. “You can’t shove your grubby little mitts in there. Merlin knows where they’ve been.” Remus put it back in the case, pushing Sirius back a step with a pointed finger.
“Just down my pants, no big deal,” Sirius smirked. “Can I try it? Fuck James and Peter, not our problem they aren’t here.”
Remus only nodded in reply, the joint held between his lips. Sirius watched on with wistful admiration as Remus wordlessly lit up the end with his wand. He took a deep drag before handing it to Sirius, sitting down on his (always) perfectly made bed.
Nervously, Sirius did the same, grimacing at the new flavours and textures that differed ever so slightly from his cigarettes. He took another puff and handed it back to his friend, sitting down on the same bed but shuffling up to rest on the headboard.
There was a small part of Remus that wanted to keep this a Sirius-and-Remus thing. They didn’t have many of those. Sirius had plenty Sirius-and-James things, and as guilty as Remus felt about it, jealousy gnawed away at him every time the two publicly enjoyed one of their Sirius-and-James things.
Maybe James and Peter would try it and hate it, then it would have to be a Sirius-and-Remus thing. However, Remus would never divulge this information to anyone. Well, maybe Lily, but not to anyone that actually mattered in the situation.
The joint was plucked from Remus, pulling him out of his thoughts. He turned to look at Sirius, realising just how close they were sitting together. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for them. Living together for just over six years now meant there were little to no boundaries between the four anymore. Yet, their closeness felt closer than usual. “You like?”
Sirius nodded, smiling lazily. “Do we have to share with the other two?” He huffed. “I want it all to myself.”
“We don’t have to,” Laughing at the irony, Remus agreed and tried to push the red creeping over his cheeks away. “This could just be an us thing, at least for a while.”
Gently, Sirius placed his head on Remus’s shoulder, his hand reaching over to fiddle with a loose thread on Remus’s knit sweater. “That would be nice.”
Nice.
Nice, Sirius thought a Sirius-and-Remus thing was nice.
The word swam around in his head for days, stretching and twisting around every other thought, glowing whenever he looked Sirius in the face. In fact, it was nice, it was really nice—late nights in the Astronomy tower, sunsets by the lake, quick breaks in random closets. If James wasn’t at Quidditch practice almost every afternoon and Peter wasn’t desperately trying to keep up with his classes, they’d be having a lot more trouble. It felt like some kind of affair.
To be honest, Remus wasn’t quite sure why it was so exciting to him. He’d never kept a secret like this before; his furry little problem didn’t count. This was different. However, it was Sirius, his best friend. There was no reason for him to be feeling so giddy about them spending time together.
It was something about the way the sun hit his cheekbones, making them impossibly more prominent. Something about the way his eyes gleamed when Remus told a particularly dry joke. Something about the energy that pulsed off his skin when he touched Remus. Something about his barking laugh and the way it vibrated through Remus’s bones and prodded his heart. Something about the way the slight bulge in the bridge of his nose moved when he said certain words. Something about the way Sirius looked at him the day before the full moon when Remus could barely stand. Something about the way Sirius held his hand and then read Remus the Transfiguration notes he took explicitly for him. Merlin knows Sirius Black didn’t take notes.
Only when he was sitting with Lily in the library, pouring over Ancient Runes, he had some sense knocked into him. “You’ve been happy lately,” she’d said, tracing her jaw with the end of her quill, “Is it anything to do with an ex-heir of a Noble and Moste Ancient-”
“Sirius?” Remus squeaked, shooting up from his parchment, “What exactly are you implying here, Lily?”
Lily raised her hands in defence, a sly smile, “You guys have been sneaking off all the time. Well, it’s some rather shoddy sneaking, but I guess James and Peter are about as observant as my blind grandma.”
“Sneaking off?” His voice went up another octave.
“Yes, sneaking off, always coming back to the common room all touchy.”
“Touchy?!”
Ms Pince shushed him from across the room.
“I’m not queer,” Remus scoffed, his voice low. The words felt wrong coming out of his mouth, “Didn’t you hear about the bird I was shagging all summer?”
“You can like both,” Lily retorted. “Anyway, what have you been doing then?”
Remus furrowed his brows and slouched back in his seat. “Both?” It wasn’t a concept Remus was all that familiar with. Of course, he’d heard of liking both boys and girls. The whole school had, what with Benjy Fenwick just the year before being caught in a broom closet with people of both sexes multiple times. James had just said he was so horny all the time he took whatever threw himself at him as long as they had a pulse. “No, I- both- no. We’ve been-” Remus lowered his voice once again. “Smoking weed.”
“Weed?!”
“Lily!”
“Where are you even getting it?”
“How do you even know what it is?”
“Do you think I’m a nun? It’s the 70’s, Remus.”
“Right, stupid question.”
After a quick glance from their table in the corner, Remus found he didn’t quite care if Pince came snooping. He lit up a cigarette. Sighing after the first drag, he licked his lips before looking at Lily. “Am I- Do I actually seem queer to you, like?”
Lily scratched her nose and tucked her hair behind her ear. Looking up from the fresh doodles on the side of her parchment, she eyed Remus dubiously. Her mouth had downturned into a frown. “There’s nothing wrong with being attracted to anyone ever, no matter what gender either party so happens to be.”
“So I do?”
“Look,” She put down her quill, leaning towards him across the table. “Sirius looks at you like the sun shines out of your ass, and you look at him like he’s a Greek god.”
They left the conversation at that. Remus was left stewing in his own confusion and frustration. He eventually had to flee the library to chain smoke half his pack. Lily had remained with a rather smug look on her face, dying to see what the next Sirius and Remus interaction would be.
Of course, Remus had been paying more attention to the physicality of Sirius Black lately. How could he not when Sirius had once again morphed over the break. Sirius had more muscles than before and a warm tint to his skin thanks to constantly playing Quidditch in the Potters garden. The boy’s hair had grown shaggier, reminiscent of his animagus form but clearly a homage to all his favourite rock artists. Sirius Black was an attractive person. You didn’t have to like boys to know that.
When Remus opened the door to his dorm, the last thing he wanted to see was Sirius, half-naked, glistening in water droplets. It didn’t matter to Remus that James was in the same state or that they were shoving each other playfully.
The sight made his throat even tighter than the chain-smoking (a mistake) had done. He averted his eyes from the V that dipped into his towel, pointing to something so volatile. Instead, he looked at James, whose skin was tinted with swirls of pink.
“Pads charmed my soap,” James pointed an accusatory finger at the boy next to him, eyes wide and begging Remus to do something.
Remus raised his brows. “Looks like it took you a while to notice.”
“Sorry, I don’t shower with my glasses on,” James scowled, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Fix it!”
“Oh, please, Remus? Almighty powerful Moony, ever so smart, ever so beaut-”
“Please, fix it,” James cut Remus off, jutting out his bottom lip.
“Can’t. I don’t know what charm Sirius used, and to be honest, I’m too tired to figure it out,” Remus shrugged, throwing his bag on his bed and peeling his robes off his back.
“And I’ll never tell you,” Sirius smirked, leering at James, “Just be grateful you can hide it, Prongsy.”
To stop James from whining anymore, which Sirius enjoyed a little too much, Remus groaned and walked over to James to get a closer look at the pink, “It looks like it’ll just fade, but if it’s still this bad by this time tomorrow, I’ll find a way to get rid of it.”
“Maybe you should go ask Lily,” piped up Peter from his bed. Remus almost jumped, having not even noticed him until now, “That way, you have an excuse to be half-naked in front of her, but it’s not totally weird, and you can talk to her.”
“Wormy is so much smarter than you, Moony,” A broad grin graced his features as he all but raced out of the room, barely giving himself enough time to finish his sentence, “I can always count on you, Pete!”
Remus didn’t miss the admiration and pride radiating from the plump boy. As much as he loved Peter, the way he followed James around like a lost puppy and licked his Quidditch boots bugged him. It always had. Remus was by no means the most confident person ever, but Peter didn’t even try to be his own person. It didn’t make sense how anyone could be so happy being a disciple and basing every action on the desires of others.
There was a time back in his second year - after finally accepting that no matter how hard he tried, he would fail at pushing his friends away - where he was doing a similar thing to Peter. James and Sirius were impossibly cool to him, to a lot of people, so incredibly enticing. He was ashamed to admit how hard he tried to make them like him, even though they already did.
At times, he’d fell back on his own morals just to please the two boys. It was nothing terrible or too out of line. Remus just hated targeting people with pranks, especially if they hadn’t done anything. Pranks were meant to be harmless and fun, yet he couldn’t help but think sometimes they went a little too far. Just because James and Sirius wouldn’t have been upset if they’d fallen victim to the same prank didn’t mean others weren’t allowed to be upset.
One night in his third year, he’d snapped at them when they were planning what Remus viewed as a particularly nasty prank on Snape. As immature as he felt doing it, he’d stormed out of the common room and into the dorm, reading a book that hadn’t been touched in months because he was too busy kissing James and Sirius’s arses’.
No one talked to Remus about his outburst, and he never said anything else to them. The prank they’d been planning never went through, and Remus refused to pressure himself to take part in anything he disagreed with any longer. Neither of them questioned him when he showed disinterest again, and they listened when Remus said anything was mean.
While Remus had been organising his things for the evening, he’d completely missed Sirius getting changed. He ignored the disappointment he felt at the fact Sirius was now wearing a shirt. Part of him questioned how long he’d been having these feelings go unnoticed, or was he only psyching himself out? No, it was Lily who psyched him out. He wasn’t one to talk about his feelings, but he’d always thought he was in touch with them.
“Wanna smoke, Moons?”
Remus blinked out of his trance, shaking his head and looking at Sirius. Avoiding eye contact, he cleared his throat, “I smoked half a pack before I got here. If I have another one, I might throw up.”
“Remus Lupin turning down a fag,” Sirius gaped, brushing past Remus to seat himself on the window ledge. “Never thought I’d see the day. Why half the pack anyway? Bit excessive.”
“Stressed,” Remus murmured, brain whirling to gather an explanation before he managed to stutter out, “I was studying with Lily and overthinking- you know- N.E.W.T.s and careers and- war.”
While he’d forced out that excuse, Remus managed to make himself actually start thinking about N.E.W.T.s, the war, and his future career on top of his conversation with Lily.
“Always a worrier, Moony,” Sirius mused. “Valid reasons to worry, though, I suppose.”
“I worry about those all the time, too,” Peter consolidated. “This is the last year we have before the real world. It’s-”
“Exactly, Wormy. Hence, we should be taking advantage of that fact as much as possible,” flicking his cigarette out the window, Sirius wagged his finger at the other boys. “In a week, it’ll be halfway between Wormy and I’s birthday; we’re throwing a party.”
“A party?” A puffed James walked into the room. His neck and cheeks were bright red, his hair the same pink as his skin.
One of Remus’s most well-versed skills was pushing things to the back of his mind. He’d practised every day for years, and the following week was no different. The Sirius box was at the very, very back, hidden behind spell-o-taped boxes of war, exams, illnesses and countless others.
Lily never said anything else about Remus and Sirius. She felt she’d overstepped a barrier. The guilt didn’t stop her from continuing to watch the two interact. It was undeniable that Remus was making an effort to pull away from Sirius. He was creating distance by shoving James and Peter in the middle. Lily hadn’t seen Remus and Sirius alone since.
If it proved her point, she wished it didn’t. No one had noticed anything except her, so if Remus was trying to make a point to the public, it was entirely redundant. All he was doing was rubbing salt into his own wounds, something Lily knew he was rather good at. Over the years, she was a mere bystander in Remus’s self-inflicted suffering. Stemming from his Lycanthropy, the boy had no sense of self-worth. It resulted in Remus refusing to let anything good into his life for fear of hurting them. Remus decided long ago he wasn’t worth the trouble. Lily knew this as fact, and she knew she was the only one who did because while his friends loved him, they were oblivious.
Honestly, Lily was sick of seeing it. Her own inaction made her sick. Remus was the most solicitous person she knew. Never once was he out of line. Of course, he had his moments where he snapped; All the best people do. However, it was never anything but the truth to protect others at the expense of himself. Each study session or patrol with Remus was a war with herself over saying something to him.
The night of Sirius and Peter’s conjoint birthday, Lily barely managed to escape one of James’s advances by slinking onto the tower’s balcony. Pulling up the waistband of her flares, she crinkled her nose at a smell that often wafted from the alley behind the grocery store in Cokeworth. It was hardly surprising that it was Remus leaning forward on the railing, a glass dangling from his fingers as dangerously as the joint between his teeth.
“No Sirius?”
“Merlin,” Remus jumped. Relief washing over his features at the sight of Lily, he downed his drink and made a face at the burn before speaking, “Didn’t hear you coming.”
“Evidently,” she laughed breezily, moving to stand directly next to him, shoulders touching. “Do you mind?”
Furrowing his brows from a moment before realising, he handed her the joint. Scanning her curiously, he droned, “You look nice.”
“Thanks,” Lily coughed, having another toke before handing it back to him. “James thinks so too.”
Remus snorted, “He’s never giving up on you, Lils,” - he noticed how she looked down at her hands, picking off her red nail polish with a slight blush - “You could give him a chance. I know you know he’s a good person, and he would do anything for you.”
“I’d say that will happen when pigs fly, but instead, I’ll say I will when you make a move on Sirius. It’s basically the same thing.”
Glaring emptily, Remus pushed himself up from the balcony and toed the finished joint into the ground. “I’ve been trying to not-”
“I know.”
“You’re incessant.”
“You’re in denial.”
Frustration was stirring in Remus’s stomach; it was unfair of Lily to push these feelings he didn’t even know he had onto him. What did she know? According to Lily, two people spending time alone was an undeniable indicator of a relationship. If that was the case, then by her standard, she was in a relationship with Remus. Huffing, he ran a hand through his shaggy hair before growling, “I’m not queer.”
Lily sighed, “Remus, I’m sorry, I’m trying to help-”
“How is this help? You’re trying to pin me to my best friend, who probably has his hands up someone’s skirt right now, by the way, all because you’ve seen us hang out a few times. It all feels a bit schoolyard gossip if you ask me.” He folded his arms across his chest, stalking more indoors. “I love Sirius, just not like that. Focus on your own boy.”
Deep frown lines etched into Lily’s skin, her fingers picking at her nail polish even more as she watched Remus walk back into the tower. He filled his whole glass with Fire Whiskey and parked himself on a couch. With a deep breath, she walked back into the party. The warmth of the room was a stark contrast to the night air that sent a shiver up her spine. Marlene waved her over from the other side of the room, so Lily strained a smile and made her way over.
Trying not to show his emotions too obviously, Remus played along and laughed when the cue came, made sure he was smiling no matter what. He’d been wrong, Sirius didn’t have his hand up anyone’s skirt, but he was busy being the life of the party. It became clear that he was a bad actor when Emmeline Vance bumbled over, falling into a spot next to him on the couch. Next to him was a loose term as her leg was on top of his. Emmeline smiled, her hand landing on his arm. “You alright, Remus? You look like you’d rather not be here.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Remus shook his head in an attempt to shake himself out of this mood. He lied, “Just tired.”
“Want me to take you to bed?” Emmeline laughed, leaning into him more. Remus was unsure if it was on purpose or from the alcohol. “I’m kidding, well, only if-”
Emmeline was pretty. Remus had always thought so; he’d even had a fleeting crush on her in his fifth year when she’d come back from summer looking like puberty had taken its course overnight. She was wearing a tight white turtleneck, and it was self-evident she wasn’t wearing anything else underneath it. Her hair was down in its tight brown curls, her front tooth stuck out endearingly.
Throwing caution to the wind wasn’t a thing Remus often did; he’d never been a fan of unpredictability. Tonight was different, though. If Lily was so adamant about his sexuality, he would just have to prove her wrong. So he gulped down the contents of his glass and threw it to the side, using his now empty hand to cup her face before planting his lips on hers.
A laugh bubbled out of her as she kissed him back, letting Remus press her into the couch. His other hand made a home on the outside of her thigh while hers gripped his sweater. Snogging wasn’t uncommon to stumble across in the Gryffindor tower, especially on nights like these, so there was little to no reaction. Remus just hoped Lily was watching. A gay man wouldn’t kiss a woman like this, would they? Even a woman as attractive as Emmeline.
“Merlin,” Sirius said. James sidled up to him, an eyebrow quirked as he grabbed Peter by the arm to join their viewing party. Sirius sniggered, “Moons, you can take the room if you want. We’ll wait.”
“That Muggle bird has tainted him. Sirius, do something!” James squeaked, “This isn’t our Moony.”
“Is it normal to snog that aggressively?” Peter asked timidly, eyes flickering between his friends and the lovebirds.
“It’s passion, Pete,” Sirius replied, “It’s glorious. I’m proud.”
Lily wasn’t entirely sure what she was feeling or how she should be feeling. Pity? Anger? Guilt? They were all mixing around in her guts and melting into a nauseating concoction. Remus wasn’t slick, he was once again trying to prove a point. Proving points didn’t exist; those sort of actions would always end up confirming the negating. Although, there was no denying Sirius didn’t seem at all phased by the scene. Bitterly, she lit a cigarette, blocking her own view with a swirl of smoke.
The only way Remus could gauge time was by the volume of the party. When it got just noticeably quieter, and Remus could tell people had left to crash in their beds, he finally pulled away from Emmeline. It was already late into the night when Emmeline had approached Remus, but he had no idea where either of them had gotten the energy from to go this long. Perhaps his came from spite. However, Remus had hit pause on being stoned just to snog Emmeline, but it returned tenfold the moment his eyes opened.
“Merlin,” He griped, slouching into the couch and pressing his palms into his eyes. “Too stoned.”
“Stoned?” Emmeline said. “How are you functioning?”
Humming, he glanced at her briefly. “Badly.”
She laughed in good spirits, squeezing his arm. “I’m heading to bed now, goodnight Remus.”
Remus didn’t reply, only rolled his head to look at his friends, who had all squeezed onto the couch perpendicular to him. He cringed at their gratified expressions and cringed even harder when Peter asked, “What does stoned mean?”
“Isn’t stoned like-”
“Dunno,” Sirius rushed, cutting James off, “Probably some Welsh or Italian slang. That was some show you put on there.”
“I don’t speak Italian,” Sighing, Remus sat up and flattened his ruffled hair. “I didn’t like it.”
“Pardon?” James titled his head and waved his hand, flabbergasted. “You were snogging forever! Moony’s gone mad.”
Remus blinked slowly, shaking his head and attempting to stand up. His legs buckled as he did so. Sirius strolled over to Remus, offering him a hand and wrapping an arm under his shoulders when he was finally stood up. Glancing at James and Peter, Sirius instructed, “Marauders, bedtime.”
Following orders, they head up to their dorm. James assisted Sirius with Remus when they reached the stairs; the poor boy could barely lift his feet. Perhaps, weed was not supposed to be mixed with alcohol. Remus had to learn things the hard way every now and then, including the fact that he may need to reconsider Lily’s idea.
Sirius managed to lay Remus on his bed without being too rough, laughing at the loopy werewolf. A strangled smile erupted on Remus’s face, rubbing his hands down his cheeks. He peered at the boy hovering above him. Remus had to fight the urge to pull at Sirius’s black hair that draped down and framed his face. “Alright, Moons?”
“I’m so gone, Pads. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’ll be fine,” Remus slurred, curling into a ball.
“Yes, yes, you are fine. You’re the bravest Marauder of us all,” Sirius stood up, looking around for the canteen Remus always kept by his bed. Casting an Aguamenti, Sirius placed the full vessel on Remus’s bedside table before pulling the curtains around his bed shut. “Goodnight, my little womaniser!”
-
One of the only positives of being a werewolf was the metabolism; Remus could eat mountains and stay lean. Of course, fast metabolism wasn’t favourable when he was at home because his parents couldn’t afford to fuel such an expensive bodily function. However, at Hogwarts, it was a blessing.
Remus stacked his plate dreadfully high the morning after the party. Downing his third cup of coffee, he watched the morning post came through. Remus never got much in the way of letters from home. It didn’t bother him much as his parents weren’t particularly exciting as creatures of routine. Mail only came if there was news. Hence, his surprise when an owl dropped an envelope in front of him.
“What’s that?” Ever nosy Sirius butt in.
“Looks like a letter,” Remus mused, eliciting a huff from Sirius and a snort from James and Peter. Sliding his fingers under the seal and pulling out the parchment, he replied to Sirius nonchalantly, “I can tell it’s from my parents. My great Uncle or someone in Italy I’ve only met once probably died.”
Dearest Remus,
As you know, your mum has been unwell for a few years now. We were lucky that the illness remained so stagnant for so long. However, I’m sorry to say Hope’s health has taken a turn for the worse. The Muggle doctors say she’ll most likely be gone by Easter. Her lungs are barely functioning anymore.
I apologise for the bluntness, but I know you hate beating around the bush. There is no moon over the Christmas break, so you can come home. I’ve written to Poppy and Minerva about the situation. Don’t keep this to yourself like you always do. It will only make her passing harder.
With love and condolences,
Your father.
With a sharp inhale, he looked up at the staff table and met McGonagall’s pitiful eyes. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he folded the letter back up and abruptly stood up from the table. The table shook from the impact, and a few goblets fell over. Remus refused to look at any of his friends as he made a swift exit from the hall, lighting a cigarette desperately before he even had a foot outside.
Remus wasn’t sure if he was trembling from the cold or from trying not to cry. Either way, he tugged his sweater further down his hands before wrapping his arms around himself. It was an act of self-comforting. He would pretend it was to keep himself warm. Remus didn’t cry, not because he thought it was weak but because he felt it was pointless. All crying did was ask for attention he didn’t want and turn his face blotchy.
Even still, he couldn’t stop a tear from cascading down the side of his nose. Hastily wiping it away, he held back his grief when the morning sun was eclipsed by Black. Remus sniffed, running a hand through his hair and taking a drag of his cigarette. Silently, he handed the letter to Sirius, his leg bopping with anxiety.
Sirius gripped the letter intently, the paper creasing where he was holding it. His eyebrows inched closer together the further he read, glancing at Remus every so often. When he finished, he sat next to Remus on the bench and gave the letter back. Sirius placed a hand on Remus’s shoulder, sending a chorus of tingles from the point of contact that branched out and contracted around his lungs. “Shit, Moons. I’m so sorry.”
Remus shrugged, Sirius’s hand falling as he did so. Lighting another cigarette, he fumbled with the lid of the packet, flicking it back and forth. Remus mourned, “Mum’s been sick since second year, you know that. There was a time where I’d really prepared myself for this to happen, but she was so good- not good- just- stable for a long time. I let it slide. I forgot she was dying,” He scoffed at himself, unable to stop the flow of emotions. “You’d think with magic, we’d be able to fix her. It’s bullshit. Mungos doesn’t take Muggles unless they’ve been afflicted by magic. It doesn’t matter that she’s got a magical son or husband.”
Standing up, blocking the sun himself this time, Remus looked down at Sirius. He clenched his jaw, sadness turning bitter. He couldn’t help the acrid laugh running away from him. Stomping out his fag, he moved onto his third. Sirius, who had been stumped into silent concern, finally spoke up, “As horrible as the inevitable is, it’s still inevitable, but so is your death and so is mine. Hell, with this war, we could be dead by this time next year. I know it’s morbid, but you can’t be afraid of death and losing people.
“You love your mum, and you should focus your energy on making these next few months as beautiful as possible for her. It will be good for both of you, and your dad’s right, you need to talk to us. Talk to me, James, Pete, even Pomfrey cares for you like you’re her own. Pomfrey probably gives good pep talks too. I’m always here for you, Moons, no matter what shit gets thrown at us.” Sirius was standing now as well, his hands jammed deep in his pockets. His lips were pursed, eyes scanning Remus’s lanky frame.
The taller boy nodded, slowly at first but picking up speed. Kicking at a rock, Remus looked down at Sirius, wincing in the morning light. “You’re right. Maybe Dumbledore will let me floo home on weekends every now and then.”
“I’m sure he will,” Sirius agreed, stepping closer to Remus, “If he doesn’t, he’ll have to deal with me.”
A small, genuine laugh rippled from Remus and Sirius beamed at the sound, nodding towards the hall. “Peter’s been practising his warming charms on your breakfast, so c’mon, we have to make sure nothing’s on fire.”
“I think,” Remus’s stomach churned at the thought of food. “Yeah, I’m going to throw up now.”
He did.
Later that night, quiet snores were the only noise in the Marauders dorm. Remus was still awake, knees to his chest and the letter in front of him. The creases from where Sirius had held it were still there. Remus traced them while counting how many drops of ink decorated the parchment.
For some reason, Remus had yet to pack this away in one of his boxes. Usually, he would start packing the moment the problem walked through the door. The idea of wrestling his mother into a box was too grim. He may as well be putting the nail in her coffin himself.
His face scrunched, eyebrows knitted together as he decided he couldn’t stop himself from crying any longer. Not with so many fond memories of his gentle mother consuming his entire being. What if she didn’t make it to Easter? What if she didn’t make it to Christmas? What if she didn’t even make it to next weekend?
Remus might never feel her fingers running through his hair or holding his hand again. Her melodic voice might never again echo through the cottage or the garden she loved so much. He may never get another chance to be called her anwylyd. With a shudder, Remus recalled the way his mother had been his solace through everything. He’d taken her for granted. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to survive without her.
Embarrassingly, he hadn’t realised how heavily he’d started to cry. Pressing his hands to his eyes until he saw dots, he took purposefully deep breaths, his lungs thick. He sniffed before leaning his head on his knees, cursing under his breath, “Shit.”
“Remus?” Sirius whispered. Remus flinched, not having heard the curtain open. He looked up at Sirius, hoping his eyes weren’t too bloodshot. Sirius sat on the end of Remus’s bed, letting the curtain fall shut once again. Remus folded up the letter and put it on top of his nightstand as Sirius cleared his throat, “I’d ask if you were ok, but-”
“It’s fine,” Remus croaked, “I’m fine.”
Sirius looked at him diffidently. Remus wasn’t an easy person to talk about feelings with. Although, he wore them on his face. Sirius wasn’t a Legilimens, but no one had to be to read Remus’s emotions just from the boy’s eyes. Knowing he wouldn’t get anything out of him, Sirius shifted into Padfoot, crawling up to lay beside Remus. The dog lay his head on Remus’s chest, urging him to lay down.
Remus was just about to follow orders when his throat constricted, making him cough. It took a couple of exhausting coughs, but his throat eventually cleared. Left in his palm was a flower petal. A gentle blue and lightly veined petal.