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Chapter Text

Remus always knew that he was different. Not because he was a werewolf, though that certainly didn't help. It was before that. By the time he could walk and talk it was clear to his parents that he was different. 

At first they thought they were just dealing with a tomboy. When Remus was three he had taken some scissors and cut his hair short as carefully as he could. His parents thought that it had been a mistake, that he'd been playing a game and went a bit too far. He was only three after all, but Remus had been deadly serious. He refused to let it grow long, and when it did, he cut it straight off again. His parents could do nothing about it, so eventually they gave in and cut it for him.

Dresses and skirts were another struggle, and Remus refused to wear female robes. If he was made to wear anything other than masculine outfits he'd kick up a fuss, and cry and shout. Once again his parents had no choice but to give in. It was when he started to ask them to refer to him as a boy, however, that they started to get worried. He was nearly five when this began. Every time they referred to him as a "she", or a girl, or as their daughter, he'd immediately contradict them.

"No, mummy. He." "Boy, mummy. I'm a boy." "Son, not daughter." He was too young to hide it. He didn't realise that other people didn't feel like he did, nor could he understand why people would think there was something wrong with him, so his parents had to protect him.

His dad tried to talk to him, to discourage him, to convince him otherwise.

"Sweetheart, you do know that you're a girl don't you?" His dad asked him one day. Remus looked at him with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

"No I'm not. I'm a boy."

"No, you were born a girl. You like to dress like a boy, and that's okay. Your mother and I are okay with that, but you can't keep saying that you are a boy."

"Why not?"

"Well, for starters, you're making us sad." Remus's face dropped.

"I am?" He didn't want to make his parents sad.

"Yes. We miss our daughter."

The conversation left Remus feeling more conflicted than he'd ever felt before. He lay on his bed, late at night, crying silently into his pillow.

His parents were sad because of him? Even his mother? So far she had been supportive. She used he instead of she and called him “her boy”. It made him so happy when she called him that. She said she loved him no matter what, but... had that all been a lie? Had she been sad this whole time? He didn't want to make her sad, but he also didn’t want to pretend to be a girl. That would make him sad.

His mother must have heard him. Or maybe she'd been coming to check on him anyway.

"Dahlia? What's wrong?" She asked, rather alarmed as she opened his bedroom door and saw him curled up, awake, and clearly upset. She didn't know about the conversation. Remus didn't reply right away. She sat beside him on his bed and ran her hands through his short, wavy hair. It was comforting.

"Mummy, are you sad?" he asked, looking at her with glistening eyes. She looked slightly taken aback.

"Of course not. Why would I be sad?"

“Dad said you and him were sad because I keep saying I’m a boy.”

"When did he tell you that?"

"Today." The room was quiet for a while. His mother must have been thinking.

"Don't listen to what he says. I promise I'm not sad. How can I be sad when I've got such a great kid, eh?" She added, tickling him playfully. He giggled. "You just keep doing what you want to do, okay? Don't worry about your father. I'll talk to him." Remus nodded, and his mum bent down to kiss his forehead. "Goodnight,” she breathed as she walked out, shutting his bedroom door lightly behind her. Remus felt relieved. Happier. His mum wasn't sad, and she still loved him, and he didn’t have to go back to being a girl. Thank God he didn’t have to go back to being a girl.

He went to sleep feeling much better about himself, his father’s words ceasing to bother him.

Remus awoke to sounds of arguing coming from downstairs. He opened his eyes, dreams still lingering around him, and took a second to register what he was hearing: loud voices filtering up through the floorboards. He tiptoed out onto the landing in his pyjamas and sat on the top step of the staircase, peering through the banister. The voices were coming from the kitchen.

"I'm trying to protect her!" he heard his dad shout. "Unlike you I'm not living in some fantasy world where this type of thing is accepted!"

"You're a bloody wizard, your entire existence is fantasy! This is reality, and the reality is we have a son!"

"No, the reality is we have a daughter who thinks she's a boy, and you won't stop indulging her!"

"I'm supporting him!"

"You call this support?! Have you thought about her future? When she goes off to Hogwarts, have you thought about what the kids'll say to her if she's still going through this bloody phase because you allowed it?!"

"If he's still like this by the time he's eleven, I think we'll have to assume it's not a phase!"

Remus didn't want to hear any more. He put his hands over his ears and ran back into his bedroom. He didn't want his parents to argue. They were arguing because of him, but he wanted them to be happy. They’d be happy again if he could just be normal.

He dug around in his wardrobe. He had an aunt on his mother's side who had gifted him a muggle dress for Christmas. He'd hated it of course, but his father refused to let him throw it away. His mother had suggested they could re-gift it, or give it away to charity. She didn't want to throw it away either but she knew he'd never wear it. His father, however, was stubborn, and said that it was disrespectful not to keep it, so Remus had shoved it to the back of his wardrobe and hadn't looked at it since. Until now.

He dragged it out and stared at it. It was a bit wrinkled but that didn't matter. It wasn't a showy dress, just a normal, everyday dress. It was dark blue with white love hearts on the hem. Remus put it on and looked in the mirror. He hated what he saw. He felt so uncomfortable and wanted nothing more than to take it off and put his trousers back on. But his parents were still arguing and this was the only way to stop them.

"He's not even five years old and his self-esteem is rock bottom because of you!"

"Oh he this and he that, I'm not the problem here!"

"You're saying I am?!"

"Well you're certainly not helping!” Hope didn’t reply. She was staring just beyond Lyall’s shoulder.

"Dahlia?" Remus's father turned in the direction of his wife's gaze. Remus was standing in the doorway, dress-clad with a tear-streaked face. He wiped his eyes on the back of his arm.

"You don't have to argue," Remus began. "I'll be a girl again." His mother went to his side and bent down.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to do this. We won't argue again, it's okay—"

"Hope..." His father looked at her sternly. "I told you to stop indulging her. Can't you see that this is a good thing?" His mother closed her eyes and tried to keep her voice level and calm.

"Can't you see that he's only doing this for our benefit? To stop us from arguing?"

"If that's what it takes to get her out of this phase then so be it." Hope stared intensely at her husband, but said nothing. She simply stood up and ushered Remus out of the kitchen.

"I'm going to work!" Lyall called roughly after them.

Hope helped Remus out of his dress and back into his trousers. He stood once again at the mirror. Usually he liked standing at the mirror with just his trousers on, because with his short hair and flat chest he looked just like every other boy. But right now, as he stared into the mirror, all he felt was guilty. And angry. Angry at himself. Angry at who he was. Angry at what he was doing to his parents.

Hope took his hand and sat him on his bed, lowering herself down onto her knees so she was eye-level with him.

"Do you really want to be a girl again?" she asked. Remus nodded. "You're not just saying that because you think it's what your father and I want to hear, are you?" Remus didn't reply, so she continued. "I'm sorry about your father, but I promise he loves you. He loves you so much that he can't help but worry. And when people are scared they lash out."

"Why is he scared?"

"Because... because he wants you to have a normal life, and I want that as well. But we have different ideas on how to go about it, so we're clashing at the moment. But it's down to us, not you. Nothing is your fault, darling, and you don't have to try and fix anything." Remus was quiet. Thinking. He was still conflicted.

"But dad doesn't like me being a boy. If I say I am he gets angry. I don't want him to be angry, so I have to be a girl again."

"I don't want you to have to do that. It's not fair."

"Then I'll be a boy with you, and a girl with dad."

"What do you mean?"

"You can still call me a boy, but not when dad's around." Hope was reluctant, but she knew Remus could be as stubborn as his father sometimes, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was sort of relieved. She wanted Lyall to be happy again, too, for her son's sake. Remus couldn't live in such a toxic environment, with so much tension and arguing. It wasn’t healthy. But at the same time... at what cost?

Chapter Text

Lyall was pleased. He had his daughter back. Hope had started to say “she” again, and she’d even taken Dahlia shopping— at Dahlia’s request— for some girl robes and outfits. Dahlia still refused to grow out her hair, but she paraded around the living room in her new clothes, to the smiles and encouragement of her father. He knew he had been right all along. Dahlia was clearly happier now. It had all been a phase after all.

Remus, on the other hand, had begun to resent his father. Unwillingly of course, but it got to the point where he just wanted his father out of the house, because when his father wasn’t around, Remus could be himself. He could wear his boy clothes, and his mother would call him “he” again. He was her boy again, and he was happy. When his father was there, he wasn’t happy. But he never let on to either of his parents how he felt. His mother would worry and tell him to go back to normal and not worry about his father. His father would get angry and blame both of them. Remus just didn’t want any arguing. So his parents continued to believe that everything was okay.

And then came that fateful night.

His parents awoke to screaming. The silence of the night was being pierced by a child’s desperate cries, and they had no time to think, they just ran. Ran down the landing and into their son’s bedroom.

A man was crouched over the figure of their child, his head bent over Remus’s neck. Remus was frozen with terror. Hope screamed, alerting the man, and Lyall wasted no time in fending the intruder off with a rapid series of hexes and jinxes. The man managed to escape out of the window, just missing getting hit by a jet of red light before he disappeared off into the night.

“Lyall, he’s hurt, oh god he’s hurt! Call the police!” Lyall stared at the child. Remus was being cradled in Hope’s arms, barely conscious. His face had been scratched right across and the left hand side of the bed was soaked in blood: Remus’s shoulder was bleeding profusely. “Lyall he has to go to hospital, we have to take him to the hospital!” She was sobbing hysterically. Lyall had rushed to her and was now bending over Remus’s shoulder, wand in hand.

“We can’t,” he breathed. Hope stared at him in shocked confusion.

“What do you mean we can’t!? He needs help!”

“I’m helping him! I can fix his wound with magic, he’ll be fine.”

“He’s been attacked, he needs a doctor and we need to call the police!” Lyall didn’t look up. He was frantically casting spell after spell to stop the bleeding and close up the wound.

“We just can’t,” he reiterated. “It’s not a normal attack he... it’s not a normal wound.”

“What do you mean it’s not a normal wound!? Who was that man!? What did he do to him!?” 

Remus started to gain consciousness again, cutting off his mother’s questions. First he started to whimper, then he began to cry. His mother held him close, whispering comforting words in his ear.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe now. You’re going to be fine.”

Hope interrogated her husband once they were out of Remus’s bedroom and in their living room. It had been an hour now since the attack. They had stayed with Remus until he had fallen back to sleep, making sure he was okay, bandaging up his wounds and locking his window tightly. It took a while for him to fall asleep again, terrified as he was of the intruder and traumatised from what had just happened to him. But he was only young, and by around two in the morning he simply couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. The whole event had left him exhausted. 

Once he was safely asleep, his parents had then gone round the whole house ensuring that every single entrance and opening was sealed tight. They had planned to stay in his room all night, but Hope needed answers and she didn’t want to risk waking Remus up again. He needed to rest.

Lyall sank into his favourite armchair and Hope stood over him.

“You better explain to me what the hell has just happened,” she demanded in a dangerously low voice. “I need to know why my child was nearly killed and is now quite possibly scarred for life.” Her voice wobbled but she continued to glare at her husband. “And I need to know why you refused to call the police.” Lyall rubbed his hands together anxiously, not knowing how to tell his wife what had happened. He took a deep breath.

“That was... .” He hesitated. “Dahlia was bitten.”

“Bitten!? By who?!”

“Fenrir Greyback. He... he was accused of murdering those people I told you about. Werewolf attacks—" he saw his wife tense up. “He claimed he didn’t know anything, disguised himself as a homeless person. Everyone believed him... except me.” He was now staring angrily at the ground, his jaw clenched.

“Please don’t tell me I’m hearing this. Please tell me our child hasn’t been...” Hope had to sit down. She couldn’t quite take in what had happened, she refused to believe what had happened.

“I said he was a werewolf but everyone just laughed at me. And I got angry and... and... .” He exhaled shakily and put his head in his hands. “Oh Merlin this is all my fault.” The room was a deafening silence. The enormity of the night’s events had yet to hit them fully, but deep down they were all too well aware that their future and their child’s future had just been irreversibly changed in a matter of seconds. And there was nothing they could do about it.

“What did you do?” asked Hope, her voice suddenly deadpan. Lyall didn’t move his head from his hands.

“What do you mean?” he said, his voice muffled.

“You said it was your fault...” she finally looked at him again. “How?” Lyall raised his head, but didn’t meet her eyes.

“I... I said some things in front of Greyback,” he explained. “Bad things. About werewolves. Said they were... evil, and soulless. And this... this must be his revenge.” His voice broke. “Hope I’m so sorry.” He stared at her despairingly. “I hurt our son.”

Remus changed after that night. Not physically, although he was of course a werewolf now, a change that they all had to get used to. But his whole personality and demeanour had changed. He was never the most outgoing child but he could be very chatty, rambling on and on about whichever subjects he was interested in, and he loved to play outside, but now he barely said a word. He just shut himself in his room all day and read. All he wanted to do was read. His mother asked him what he wanted for his fifth birthday and all he said was books. She willingly obliged.

The only bonus that came out of Remus’s ordeal was that his father no longer cared about Remus identifying as a boy. Everything seemed to have been put into perspective for Lyall after the traumatic event. For starters, being a boy made Remus happy, and Lyall wanted so desperately for his child to be happy again, and he clearly knew that there were much bigger problems in their lives right now than his daughter becoming his son. He was just happy that his child was alive. And Remus was happy that he had finally been accepted as a boy, despite the circumstances that had brought about this acceptance.

Or at least, he thought he had been accepted.

It was around three months later. Remus had transformed three times now. He hated it. It scared him no end. He had to be locked in his room for the whole night and he never remembered what had happened once he’d woken up the following day. His parents tried to be as calm about it as possible. They told him they’d stay with him until he transformed, then it would just be like going to sleep and waking up the next morning. 

It wasn’t though. Remus couldn’t remember details but he remembered how it felt. It was painful and lonely, and dark and angry, and what if he ended up hurting his parents? He wouldn’t even remember hurting them... and he wouldn’t even recognise them as he hurt them... anxiety attacks became more and more frequent for him, and his parents couldn’t do much except insist that he would be okay. All he could do was trust them.

After every transformation, his mum would buy him a book, as a sort of reward for the previous night; a reason to look forward to transforming.

On the third month, his mum bought him a book of Roman myths. He enjoyed both muggle and wizarding books alike, and he was quite keen on history. He liked the story of the twin founders of Rome: Romulus and Remus. The boys who were abandoned at birth, raised by a she-wolf and went on to found one of the biggest empires in history.

He was also fond of the name Remus.

His name hadn’t bothered him much when he was a young child, but as he grew a bit older he started to hate it. It was definitely a girl’s name and it didn’t suit him anymore. He wanted a new name.

He’d once asked his mother what he would have been called had he been born a boy.

“Well, I wanted to name you John after my grandfather, but your dad probably would have named you Lyall. It’s common for fathers to name their sons after themselves.”

Remus wanted to honour his mother’s naming decision but he didn’t think John really suited him either, and he didn’t know what his father would say if he named himself Lyall.

But Remus... Remus was nice. And he supposed it had a good connection; the mythical Remus had been raised by a wolf, and he was a wolf. It fit.

He decided to broach the subject with his mother.

She was in the kitchen reading one of her muggle newspapers with her coffee. Lyall was at work. He’d been spending more and more time at the ministry lately. Remus had once overheard his father telling his mother about trying to find a “cure” for Remus’s lycanthropy. They were all holding out hope that one day it would appear, but so far there was no sign of it.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” greeted his mother, all smiley. She tried to act as cheerful as possible around Remus, hoping it would rub off on him and she could see his smile again. His genuine smile, not a fake one that he was sadly beginning to master.

“Morning,” he replied back. Hope stood up to make him some toast. They had a toaster of course since Hope couldn’t use magic. It was all beat up and rusty and Lyall hated it, tutted every time he saw it being used. “How do muggles live without magic?” he’d mutter.

Remus sat at the table. It certainly wasn’t unusual anymore for him to be quiet and keep things to himself, but it was a surprise when he actually shared his thoughts this time.

“Mummy?” He began.

“Yes, love?” A pause. Remus was trying to find his words.

“Can I change my name?” Hope stopped buttering the now toasted bread and turned around.

“Do you want to change your name?” Remus nodded.

“Dahlia’s a girl’s name. I don’t like it anymore.”

“Well, what would you want to change it to?” Remus looked down. For some reason he felt a bit embarrassed.

“I like Remus,” he said eventually. 

“Remus?... Remus...” She tried it out. “It’s nice.” Remus smiled. “You definitely want to be called Remus instead of Dahlia?” Remus nodded again. “Do you want your father to call you Remus too?” Hope was worried about what her husband would say. So far he’d finally accepted the pronoun change, but a name change too? Remus, however, shook his head.

“Not yet. Just you.”

Lyall returned home from work one day, clearly tense. Hope had asked what was wrong and all he had replied with was that his day had been stressful, and he declined to elucidate further. Remus was still up, reading a book on the sofa. Normally his father would have told him to go to bed, but his parents had been very lenient with him since the attack.

“What’re you reading there, Dahlia?” was all his father asked, sitting in the adjacent armchair.

“Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them,” Remus replied, not taking his eyes off the page.

“Ah, good choice. Newt Scamander’s a great bloke. Met him once, years ago. Bit odd, but there wasn’t a single thing he didn’t know about magical creatures.”

“Like you?”

“Oh I just specialise in things like boggarts and poltergeists. Nothing compared to Scamander.” Hope walked into the room then, fiddling about with an apron and clearly not focusing.

“It’s getting late, Remus, you should go to bed soon,” she glanced at her son, looked back at the apron and then froze, realising what she had said. Remus didn’t move either, just stared at her. Lyall looked back and forth between the two of them, then turned to his wife.

“Who’s Remus?” He asked. Hope looked awkward.

“No one, I was just... thinking of someone called Remus and it slipped out.”

“Which someone called Remus?”

“You know... that muggle story. Romulus and Remus. Founders of Rome. Dahlia was reading it and it... it popped into my head.” Lyall searched their faces. Fear was written all over both of them, clearly showing that they had been caught out, and Lyall wasn’t an easy man to fool.

“You’re calling her Remus now aren’t you?” Remus flinched as his father reverted back to calling him “she”. Hope didn’t know how to reply right away, wanting to contradict him but not wanting to argue about the name Dahlia in front of Remus. She knew which option would be more beneficial to her son, though, but she was too late. Her consequential silence was enough to confirm Lyall’s accusation. He sighed heavily. “I don’t have time for this,” he said.

“I don’t see what the problem is, it’s just a name—”

“Of course it’s not just a name!” He stood up, his voice already growing louder and Hope could immediately sense an argument.

“Remus, go to your room,” she instructed, and Remus wasted no time in getting out of there. He couldn’t help himself from stopping at the top of the staircase, however, and listening through the banister.

“So this is really a thing now?” interrogated his father, as soon as Remus had left the room.

“I thought you had accepted it.”

“How can I accept it?! I don’t even know what this is! Why does she feel this way?! I was humouring her to keep her happy, because she’s gone through something no child should have to go through, but this is going too far now and you’re not thinking of the consequences.”

“No, you aren’t! Maybe if you actually did some research—”

“Did some research?! On a random phase our kid is going through?! How about researching how to cure her of her lycanthropy?! To stop her transforming every month, to stop her being ousted from society and actually give her a chance of having a future?! Because that’s what I’ve been doing every. Single. Day. And I don’t have time for this nonsense anymore!”

“It’s not nonsense.” Lyall put his head in his hands. “I’ve been doing some research, down at the library. People — muggles— are doing this new study on people like Remus—” Lyall raised his head to the ceiling at the sound of Remus’s new name, as if petitioning some sort of deity to give him strength, but Hope was determined to continue. “It’s an actual thing, it’s not a phase. We need to take this seriously, just as serious as his lycanthropy because this is his future.

“He doesn’t have a future... .” The room went quiet. Hope stared at him, aghast. Remus, meanwhile, felt his chest constrict. Too many thoughts were whirling around his head and he felt overwhelmed by them.

“How could you say that?” breathed Hope.

“We need to face facts, Hope. She won’t be allowed to go to Hogwarts now, which means she won’t get the qualifications she needs to work, and even if she does get the qualifications, she won’t even be allowed to get a job.”

“Then we raise him the muggle way. He can go to a muggle secondary school and get a muggle job and you can teach him magic when he’s seventeen.”

“The ministry won’t allow us to send him to a muggle school. It’s too much of a risk to the Statute of Secrecy. He’ll be at an age when his magic is becoming powerful, but he won’t be able to control it.”

“So what is the Ministry expecting us to do?”

“I suppose... hide him away until he’s old enough to control his magic.” Hope stared at him, her gaze unfaltering.

“So we’re supposed to cut him off from the rest of the world, muggle and wizard alike, until he’s old enough to control his magic, and then he can’t even get a job? Get a house? Get married?” Lyall nodded sadly. “All because he was attacked by a werewolf as an innocent child and couldn’t do anything about it?” Lyall nodded again. “Then there’s something seriously fucked up about the wizarding world,” concluded Hope. Lyall didn’t say anything. Remus felt a vague sense of dread. He’d never heard his mother swear before, so he knew the atmosphere had gone deadly serious.

“You’re right,” replied Lyall softly. Any anger towards his wife that he’d had had quickly dissipated. “You’re right and I... I wish I could change things.”

“Things won’t change as long as people still think that all werewolves are nothing but soulless and evil creatures.” Lyall flinched. Her shot had gone home, and Hope knew it. They stayed in silence for a moment, Hope just staring at him. He wished she would stop staring. Eventually, her gaze fell. “I’m going to bed,” she stated. She left the living room, and Remus— who had been lost in thought for the past minute— was quickly shaken back into reality. He ran back to his own bedroom before his mother could catch him spying and dived under the covers, waiting for his mum to open the door to check on him. 

Lyall was left standing by the fireplace, the last embers burning out within it. He sunk into his armchair, letting the entire conversation wash over him. He felt terrible, and all he desperately wanted was for things to go back to normal. 

He stayed in his chair all night, and fell asleep at around twelve pm. Hope never bothered to check on him.

Chapter Text

The following evening, Lyall came home from work to find Hope sitting at the dining room table trawling through books. Lyall picked one up. It was all cartoony, with numbers on the front.

“What’s all this?” He asked.

“Muggle schoolbooks,” Hope replied, not looking up from her reading. She didn’t catch Lyall’s look of confusion, but she sensed it, and continued to explain. “If he can’t go to Hogwarts and he can’t learn magic until he’s seventeen, then I’m homeschooling him the muggle way.”

“Really?”

“I’ve got it all planned out. Primary school to Secondary school.”

“So he’s not going to know anything about the wizarding world?”

“Of course he is. He’ll have lessons on the wizarding world— you can teach him. But he has to focus on his muggle studies more.” She finally looked up at her husband. “His only chance now of a good future is getting a job in the muggle world, and he can’t do that without a muggle education.”

“Does Dahlia know about this?”

“Remus is well aware of all of this. We’ve talked it through and he agrees. He wants to do this.” Lyall sighed, placed his palms on the table and leant over.

“We never finished our conversation from yesterday.” He kept his voice low and calm.

“There’s nothing to finish-”

“For Merlin’s sake, Hope, just stop being so bloody obtuse for one second and listen to me. This... Remus thing can’t go on any longer. Do you think people like that are accepted? In the muggle world too. How’s she supposed to get a job in your precious muggle world if no one accepts her, hm? You ever thought about that?”

“Have you ever thought about the fact that there’s nothing we can do. Just like there’s nothing we can do about his lycanthropy. Our only option is to accept this—”

“How can I accept this? Accept that we’ve lost our daughter?”

“We have to accept that we never had a daughter in the first place.” Lyall simply sighed, exasperated. “I’m not letting him get hurt anymore, and you are hurting him.” She looked at him, almost pleadingly. “Remember that night? The night he was attacked and we were sitting in the living room? You called him our son.”

“I was stressed. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“I think you were. I think you know deep down that he’s your son, but your determination to deny it is affecting all of us. You’re affecting Remus, and you’re affecting our marriage.” Hope gathered up the schoolbooks and stood up. “He’s starting his studies tomorrow.” Lyall said nothing, but when she was halfway up the stairs he added:

“He’s only five. Not even six yet. What if this is just a phase?”

“Well... then we support him.”

Life became routine for the Lupins. Lyall went to work everyday, still trying in vain to find a cure for Remus’s lycanthropy. Hope took it upon herself to become Remus’s teacher. She found schoolbooks for him to work through and sat with him at the dining table for a few hours each day. He learnt maths and English, and at his special request, history. He learnt both muggle and wizarding history. His mother started him off with some simple historical subjects. The erupting volcano of Pompeii, the Battle of Hastings in 1066, the Vikings and the Romans. She said they were the sort of things that she was taught during primary school. His father taught him wizarding history. The Statute of Secrecy, wizarding relations with muggles and the misconception that witches in Britain were burnt at the stake in the Middle Ages, when in reality they were hanged, or drowned.

“For God’s sake, Lyall he’s only six,” reprimanded Hope.

“It doesn’t happen anymore. And besides, real witches would have survived easily, as long as they had their wands of course.” Lyall was a very smart man. He never dumbed down or censored his explanations, regardless of who he was talking to. Hope said it was too heavy for Remus, but Remus didn’t mind. It was a little hard to follow at times, but Lyall was perfectly fine with Remus interrupting to ask for a simpler explanation.

His father was still holding on to some form of his denial over Remus being a boy, but he hardly protested anymore, and to his son’s delight he’d finally started using the name Remus.

As for his monthly transformations, Remus had now grown used to them. He still hated them of course, and they were still a cause of great pain and anxiety to all three of them, but they were no longer his main focus, since there was nothing he could do about them. He could worry all he wanted, but at the end of the day there was no escape from the full moon. All he could do was treat them as just another inconvenient part of life, another thing he had to deal with. His mother gave him a four day break from doing schoolwork at the end of each month. Two days before he transformed and two days after, so he could rest. Things seemed to be going okay; Remus was less sad all the time, except when he thought about missing out on going to Hogwarts when he was older, so he tried not to think about it.

He wasn’t allowed out of the house much. His parents were too worried for his safety, so they kept him inside. They didn’t want the neighbours to notice his scars and start talking. Remus didn’t mind too much. For starters, he hated people looking at his scars, which were still very visible. He’d once gone into a muggle town with his mother, and adults and children alike stared at him in slight shock. The adults would try and pretend they weren’t looking, while children would stare right at him until they were nudged by a parent and given a stern warning about “rudeness”. Remus always kept his head down as he walked.

Unfortunately, it was only a matter of time before Remus’s reclusiveness and the family’s strange behaviour sparked gossip amongst the neighbours. His father came home one day looking very tense. He explained to Hope that a neighbour had stopped him and asked if Dahlia was okay, feeling like they hadn’t seen her in years. He replied back saying that Dahlia was fine and that her mother was homeschooling her, so she was inside most of the day. The neighbour didn’t seem to accept the answer and warned Lyall that people were starting to talk.

“She said one neighbour was getting suspicious about Remus’s scars,” Lyall concluded.

“So what do we do?” asked Hope.

“Well, the longer we stay here, the more likely Remus will be found out. It’s not safe anymore.”

“You mean we have to move?”

“It was always inevitable, Hope. We need to go somewhere secluded,” his face brightened ever so slightly. “Perhaps we could go up to Wales. You’d like to go back to Wales, wouldn’t you? And there’s certainly a lot of country up there. No neighbours for miles.” Hope looked reluctant.

“I hate the idea of cutting us all off from the rest of the world. Besides, this is our home. Remus was born here.”

“I know, but we don’t have a choice, it’s for his own safety.” Hope, of course, couldn’t argue with that, so reluctantly she agreed to think about moving.

Two months later, and the three of them were walking through the front door of their new house. It was an averaged-sized place, three bedrooms and a sizeable garden, but what attracted them to it was that it was located deep in the countryside. There was no one around as far as the eye could see and they had to drive just to get to the nearest town. Remus was safe at least, and that’s what mattered.

He was nearly seven years old now.

Chapter Text

When Remus was eleven, the family received a visitor. In the four years since they’d moved, they’d only seen a handful of visitors, mainly Ministry officials who had business with Lyall. Remus never met up with other children. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had a friend. He was certainly very lonely, and he didn’t imagine that the loneliness would ever go away, what with no school to go to, no neighbours to talk to and no siblings to play with. All he had were his parents, and as much as he loved them, he found himself getting unreasonably wound up by them on a regular basis. He’d simply been cooped up with them for too long. 

Their new house was nice, if not isolating. Remus’s bedroom was a good size, and there was certainly no lack of outside space. At least with no neighbours around, Remus was much more free to play outdoors whenever he wanted to without worrying about people seeing him and the scars on his face. However, he still found himself missing his old home. It had been an old house, almost ancient, so there had been plenty of secret hiding places and nooks and crannies to explore. Their new house on the other hand, while old, was nowhere near old enough to have any interesting secrets to discover, so Remus spent most of his time bored in his room, reading.

His mother was worried about his social skills. His father said that Remus interacting with a bunch of kids who made fun of his scars would do his social skills no favour.

Somehow this turned into an argument.

Remus was sick of listening to arguing, and he seemed to be the root cause of all of them, so along with the oppressing loneliness, Remus also had to deal with a never-ending cycle of guilt. And at the end of the day, all he wanted to do was go to Hogwarts.

It was Friday when the doorbell rang so his father was at home. His mother was with Lyall in the living room and Remus was upstairs, doing some unfinished schoolwork. He was still being homeschooled, and his workload grew every year as he got older. Along with maths, English and history, he was now doing subjects such as science and geography. He didn’t like those subjects as much. 

Remus went to the landing when he heard the door. He suspected it was another Ministry official, and therefore someone boring, but he still liked to see another human being who wasn’t his mum or his dad, and spy on them, listening in to any conversations. But it wasn’t a Ministry official. Or at least, if it was, it was the oddest looking Ministry official that Remus had ever seen. The man was very tall, at least a foot taller than his father, and he had a long silvery beard that went right down to his belt. He was dressed all in mauve, and his hat was very pointy. Remus couldn’t help but notice that he looked exactly like the wizards described in Muggle fairytales that his mother would read to him. But the man also looked familiar.

For some reason, Lyall and Hope tried to stop the man from entering the house. Remus didn’t know why. They didn’t even know the man. But then it hit him: why the man looked familiar. Remus quickly ran to his bedroom, rummaged through a draw full of chocolate frog cards, picked one out and rushed back to his spot at the top of the stairs. He stared at the card, and then at the man, who was still being denied access to the house. Yes, thought Remus, it was definitely him. Professor Albus Dumbledore. Headmaster of Hogwarts. Remus’s heart jumped into his throat and he decided to brave it...

He stood up and padded downstairs towards the doorway. Dumbledore spotted him first.

“Hello,” Dumbledore greeted politely. Lyall and Hope turned to Remus.

“Remus, darling, go upstairs please,” his mother quickly ordered, but Dumbledore cut her off.

“Actually it’s Remus I’d like to talk to.” Remus and Hope looked at the man in confusion, but Lyall gave him a rather different look: a mix of surprise and suspicion.

“Why do you want to speak to Dahlia?” Lyall interjected. Remus’s heart plummeted. This man didn’t know him. On first glance he would have assumed Remus was a boy, and he was using his name, his real name, without knowing his old name. Why did his father have to go and screw it up?

Lyall had finally got the hang of using the name Remus— he’d eventually given in, and while he slipped up a lot, he did correct himself, unless he was angry, and he hadn’t referred to Remus as a “she” for at least a year now. But was he only going to do that behind closed doors, where no one except Remus and Hope could hear? And now that this man had turned up, who was essentially a stranger, Lyall was just going to act like he still had a daughter?

But Dumbledore just looked at him steadily.

”I thought his name was Remus now.” Remus’s heart, which had travelled an entire journey around his body in less than a few minutes, jumped back into place. Now? Did Dumbledore know? How did he know?

But he used the right pronouns. He knew and he still used the right name and pronouns. Remus looked at him warmly. Lyall started to stutter.

”W-well, I mean... well, um-” Hope rolled her eyes before interrupting.

”Yes it is,” she affirmed. “Why do you want to talk to him?”

”I want to give him a letter.” The room went quiet. Dumbledore walked over to Remus— Lyall and Hope having given up their mission to keep the Professor out of the house— and handed the boy an envelope. Remus barely hesitated before taking it and reading the address on the front:

Mr R. Lupin

House Number 6, Masters Grove

Gwynedd, Wales

Mr R. Lupin. Mister. He almost wanted to cry. His acceptance letter into Hogwarts. His acceptance into the Wizarding world, and it was addressed to a Mister Remus Lupin.

His father spoke up.

”I don’t understand... I’m sorry, Professor, but you must not be aware of our situation—”

”I assure you, Mr Lupin, that I am perfectly aware of the situation, and I am telling you that I want your son to attend my school.”

”B-but... how?”

“He only transforms twelve times a year, doesn’t he? For the other three hundred and fifty three days he is a completely normal human being. I do not think it fair, therefore, to deny him the proper education that he needs, just for those twelve nights. There are places within the Hogwarts and Hogsmeade grounds that he can safely transform in, away from any living creature but still under my watch. Both he and everyone will be safe and no one need know of his condition.” Remus thought it sounded perfectly reasonable, and he was so desperate to go to Hogwarts anyhow. He looked eagerly at his parents, but they still appeared hesitant.

”If it gets out... that he’s a werewolf,” began his father. “... Professor, I’m sorry. It’s too dangerous.” Remus deflated. He knew it. He knew he shouldn’t have got his hopes up. But Dumbledore continued.

”I shall do everything in my power to ensure that he is safe. Just as safe as he would be at home, if not more, because at least he’ll be able to learn how to control his magic.” Lyall thought about it, but Hope looked worried.

”Professor, sir...” she began. “Remus being a werewolf isn’t the only problem. He... well, I take it you already know, but...” She glanced at her son. “He wasn’t born a boy.”

”I am a boy, though,” piped up Remus. The first words he’d spoken to Dumbledore.

”Yes,” continued his mother. “But... if the other children find out... And, will he be treated like a boy? Can he use the boy dormitories? Or the bathrooms?” Lyall looked like he wanted to interject. Remus hoped he wouldn’t. Thankfully, Dumbledore spoke before Lyall had a chance.

”I don’t see why not. Hogwarts is a home for everyone, and if that’s what Remus needs for Hogwarts to feel like his home, then by all means.” Remus couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so happy, but he was terrified that something would go wrong. In fact he was sure it would go wrong. It was all too good to be true.

Dumbledore had allowed Lyall and Hope to spend some time thinking everything over before making their decision. They discussed their concerns in low whispers, setting Remus on edge. He didn’t like the thought that they could barge into his room at any moment and announce that they weren’t allowing him to go to Hogwarts after all. Every time they brought up the subject with him, he enthusiastically insisted that he wanted to go and assured them that he’d be fine.

However, he had his own reservations of course. He didn’t know for sure he’d be fine. He had two big secrets that he simply didn’t know if he could keep for the next seven years, no matter what Dumbledore said, and the thought of all those students... Would they like him? Would they bully him? Would they make fun of his scars? And what would they do if they found out that he was actually born a girl?

He didn’t admit these anxieties to his parents. They were so close to agreeing to letting him go that Remus didn’t want to jeopardise it. So as usual, he suppressed his feelings and kept quiet.

Eventually, nearly two weeks after Dumbledore’s visit, his parents sat Remus down at the dining table and told him that after long thought, they had decided to let him go to Hogwarts. Remus grinned and clapped his hands in excitement. His parents allowed him to celebrate for a second before continuing.

“But... we have a lot to discuss,” said his father. Remus calmed down, but didn’t respond. He simply indicated that he was listening. His parents launched straight into a speech about how Remus had to make sure that no one found out about his lycanthropy; that he let no one spot him leaving the castle to transform, and that if anyone were to ask, he needed to lie about where he got his scars.

But overall, his parents were more focused on Remus’s male identity. They reiterated what had all been on their minds for the past year or so.

”You’re at an age where you could start puberty at any moment,” began his mother. Remus always tried to avoid this conversation. Not only did he find it gross from a pre-teen perspective, but he also didn’t want to think about it. He hated the thought of his body changing to match the wrong gender, or the thought of his chest no longer being flat, and he couldn’t even describe how much he dreaded getting his period. “But we have to be prepared. So we’ll have to pack some things that... you may not want.”

Said things happened to be a various selection of period products. His mother had gone out to buy them and she laid them out on his bed. It affected him more than he’d wanted it to, seeing them there. He found himself fighting back tears. He didn’t want them on his bed, he didn’t want them in his trunk, he didn’t want them to be a constant reminder that he wasn’t what he wanted to be.

His mum said that he only needed to take one pack. It was only “just in case”. If anything happened, he could owl them for more. Remus stuffed the pack right at the bottom of his trunk, and vowed to hide it somewhere as soon as he got to Hogwarts. Somewhere out of sight and out of mind. His mother also made him pack some sports bras “just in case”, which he also vowed to hide.

All in all, the build up to Hogwarts just made Remus feel more and more depressed as each day passed until September 1st. Why couldn’t he just be normal? he thought, lying on his bed one night. He just wanted a normal school experience without having to deal with his stupid body and his stupid lycanthropy. Having to hide so much, and having to transform every single month for the rest of his life. Every. Single. Bloody. Month. As well as going through the wrong damn puberty. It was all wrong. Everything was wrong.

Remus bit into his pillow. The whole situation, every overwhelming emotion pressing against his chest, just made him want to scream.

His only distraction was when they went to Diagon Alley.

At first, the whole place made Remus feel very nervous. He’d never seen this many people, let alone be right among them. He’d been to Diagon Alley before, of course, but never before the start of term. The place was packed with kids his age and older, running around from shop to shop, pressing their palms against the windows, leaving foggy marks where their breath touched the glass, until the owners came out to tell them to “either buy something or bugger off” in a tone light-hearted enough to make the kids run away giggling.

The first few shops they went into were to pick up the list of supplies such as books and cauldrons. Flourish & Blotts was definitely Remus’s favourite shop in Diagon Alley. He loved the old shelves filled with even older books, and the winding staircase leading to the second floor had a great hiding place underneath it where he could sit for hours reading, time passing him by as if it ceased to exist the second he stepped into the place.

However, on this specific day he was much more focused on other places. “Can we go to Ollivander’s now?” he asked at regular intervals, to the same reply of “not now. We’ll go at the end.” Remus had spent most of his life thinking that he’d never get to go to Ollivander’s, never get to choose his wand when he was eleven, so now that he actually had the opportunity, he was feeling more than a little impatient.

They skipped Madame Malkin’s robe shop. Remus didn’t want to be measured so closely, and his parents agreed that it was a risk, so his mother had measured him herself and had picked up his robes a few days previously. He knew they’d be boy robes, of course, but he was still very excited to see them and try them on. The dark grey slacks and the light grey pullover jumper, and the white button-up shirt underneath, all fit perfectly and Remus was reluctant to take it off. It suited him.

Their next shop was the Menagerie, the loudest shop on the street. Screeching owls and mewling cats filled their ears as they got closer. His parents had bickered over which animal Remus should choose. They had ruled out toad from the beginning; no one wanted a toad. But his mother loved cats and she had encouraged Remus to choose a nice one, a kitten perhaps, but his father insisted that owls were much more useful. Besides, their own owl, Solomon, was so old that he spent most of his days sleeping, so his father said it would be good to have a younger, more lively owl around the place. Remus didn’t know who to agree with, so he decided to just see which animal he liked the best when he entered the shop.

“Look how sweet this kitty is,” said his mother from the left side of the shop where the majority of the cats were. She was stroking the ears of a little black cat, still a kitten, which was purring loudly at her touch. Remus went over and scratched it gently under the chin. 

“It’s cute,” he said, smiling. His dad on the other hand was inspecting the owls on the other side of the shop.

“Remus,” he called. Remus joined him. “Look at this fella. Good size. Great feathers.” He was pointing at a rather large tawny owl which, in Remus’s opinion, looked quite fierce.

“He’s a bit big, dad.”

“Well he can certainly carry your mail.” Remus’s gaze wandered over to a much smaller owl, asleep at the moment. It was light brown in colour, with darker brown and white patches all over its coat. 

“That one’s nice,” said Remus. His dad looked at the owl.

“She’s asleep.”

“So?”

“You don’t want an owl who sleeps all day, we’ve already got one of those.”

“How do you know she’s a girl?” Lyall raised an eyebrow.

“It says so right there.” He pointed at a small sign on the owl’s cage that Remus had previously missed:

“Young female Barred Owl,” the sign read, in rather scrawly handwriting.

“I like her,” Remus concluded. Hope had joined them by now. “What do you think, mum?” Hope looked at the owl as well.

“She’s cute,” she replied. “But are you sure you don’t want a cat? I asked the shopkeeper and she said that they have some kittens round the back. Lovely little things. Very fluffy.”

“No, thanks. I’d rather have an owl.” If Remus was being honest, he wanted to choose an animal that boys were more likely to get, and he thought that more boys chose owls than cats. Cats were more of a girl’s choice, and he didn’t want anyone to call him a girl for bringing a kitten to school. Besides, he’d already grown quite fond of the little brown owl.

“Alright then,” conceded his mother. Lyall looked pleased.

“I’ll go pay for her,” he said, taking the cage down from where it was hanging and handing it to Remus. “You think of a name for her.” The movement shook the owl awake and she stared at Remus sleepily with her dark round eyes.

“Hello,” said Remus. The owl hooted softly. “I think I’ll call you... Arianrhod.”

At long last, Remus and his parents— arms full with school supplies and the cage of a very sleepy owl— stood outside Ollivander’s. Remus was nervous.  It looked dark inside, and inexplicably empty. Lyall nudged him forward.

“Go on,” he encouraged. Remus opened the door. A bell tinkled from somewhere within the shop. Remus stepped near the counter, his parents behind him.

“Hello?” he called. A man suddenly appeared, silently, as if he’d popped out of the ground.

“Hello, young man.” Young man. Remus smiled. “I take it you’re here for a wand.” The man had piercing blue eyes, almost watery, and his voice was deep, captivating, seemingly hypnotic.

”Um... yes.” Ollivander nodded and retreated into an aisle, disappearing among the shelves of wands. He reappeared a second later holding a rectangular-shaped box. He opened it, picked up the wand from within, and handed it to Remus.

”Try this one,” he offered. “Holly and Unicorn hair. Eleven inches.” Remus held it in his hand, flicked it, and jumped back as the pile of wand boxes on the counter top flew off. Ollivander took the wand away and handed him another.

”Chestnut and Phoenix feather. Ten inches.” Remus had barely raised the wand before Ollivander had snatched it back. “No, not that one...” he muttered under his breath. “This one.” He handed another wand to Remus, who only held it for a second before Ollivander had taken it back and started searching for another one. 

Remus went through another three wands, each instance playing out the same way. Ollivander would hand him a wand and then grab it back almost as soon as Remus had taken it. Lyall had once told him about the wands. It was immediately obvious when the wand was right for you. You barely had to touch it to know, so Ollivander’s erratic behaviour at least made a bit of sense to him. It was no less disorientating though.

Eventually, Ollivander handed him another wand.

”How about this one. Ten and a quarter inches. Cypress and Unicorn hair.” Remus took it, and almost immediately he felt a warmthness spread through his fingers. Shiny, silver sparks fizzled gently around the tip of the wand. It looked very pretty. Ollivander smiled. “At last, eh? It seems that you have finally been chosen.” At Remus’s confused look, Ollivander elaborated. “The wand chooses the wizard. Such has always been the case. Your wand has chosen you.” He handed the now sealed box back to Remus. “Treat it well.” 

“Thank you,” replied Remus, still vaguely hypnotised by this mysterious man.

His parents, who had been sitting quietly near the door, walked up to the counter to complete the transaction, and finally, after what felt like much longer than it had actually been, they were able to leave the dark shop and return into the sunshine filled street outside. 

The crowds were starting to filter out as the Sun rose higher into the sky, and Remus felt more optimistic than ever since these last few months. He had all his things ready for Hogwarts. He had his owl, his robes, and his wand— wrapped in the rectangular shaped box that he was holding tightly onto. For the first time in eleven years, Remus finally felt like a proper wizard.

Chapter Text

They had to drive to King’s Cross in Hope’s old Austin Mini. Lyall had bought it for her years ago so she could travel around the muggle way. She loved it, but Lyall always complained about it being too slow, and in this case, Remus agreed with him. The journey was long. Hours long. 5 hours to be exact, to travel all the way from Wales to London. Remus spent half the journey sleeping and the other half worrying.

As much as he was desperate to get out of his house, sleep somewhere new and meet new people, he already missed the safety and security that being at home brought him. At least at home he didn’t have to hide, or lie, or pretend, and he didn't have to worry about the consequences of not hiding or lying or pretending.

”What house do you think you’ll be in?” asked Lyall, suddenly. The question felt weirdly unexpected, and Remus didn’t respond right away. They had all been so focused on the big things, the secrets, the anxieties, that they hadn’t really had a chance to discuss the normal aspects of Hogwarts. The Sorting Ceremony, the lessons, the activities, none of it had really crossed Remus’ mind, except when he was younger and he made up games of make believe, usually involving him already being at Hogwarts. In those games he’d sorted himself into Gryffindor, because that was his father’s house, and he wanted his father to be proud of him.

”Um... I don’t really mind,” replied Remus, and it was true, he didn’t mind. He’d read about all four houses and he thought that they all had good qualities.

”Well, Gryffindor’s the best of course,” continued Lyall. “But Ravenclaw’s good too. I was nearly in Ravenclaw.”

”What if I’m in neither?”

”Oh I’m sure you will be. We’re very similar you and I.” Remus took his statement as a compliment, and he felt quite proud about it. His father had never compared Remus to himself before; he usually claimed that Remus and his mother were like two Bowtruckles in the same tree.

“Don’t put pressure on him about houses, Lyall. I never did see what the big deal was. Why do they have to divide all the kids up anyway? It just creates animosity, surely.”

”Not animosity, darling, healthy competitive spirit. Quidditch matches were a riot.”

The station was fairly busy, so they had to wait until enough people had cleared from platforms nine and ten before going through the barrier. Lyall had already warned Remus about the barrier, but that didn’t stop Remus’ natural instincts from telling him that nothing good could come from launching himself head on at a solid-looking brick wall. Lyall had suggested giving a bit of a run if he was nervous. Remus thought that was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. If he was nervous about slamming face first into a wall, why would he... run at it?

He took it slowly, ambled up to the barrier and pressed his trolley into the bricks. The front of the trolley disappeared. With the integrity of the barrier now confirmed, the rest of the trolley and Remus himself followed suit. He re-appeared on the other side in a haze of steam. It cleared after a second and he could take a good look at platform nine and three quarters...

”Merlin, that’s a lot of people,” he said. His parents were behind him now.

”It’s more daunting than it looks,” encouraged Lyall. Remus didn’t think so. All he could hear was shouting and laughing and animals and parents and students. It was all very overwhelming. Hope was by his side, his father on the other.

”Come on,” Hope said. “Let’s get you on the train.”

They fought their way through the crowd and found a fairly empty carriage near the end of the train. Remus jumped on, and his father handed him his trunk and Arianrhod’s cage, the owl hooting softly from inside.

”Do you need any help?” asked Lyall.

”No, I’m alright, thanks.” His trunk was heavy but he didn’t think he’d do himself any favours if his parents followed him onto the train.

”Now be careful, okay,” reiterated his father.

”I know.”

”And write every day.” That was his mother. His father shook his head in amusement.

”You don’t have to write every day. Every week.”

”I will. I promise.”

”And if anything happens,” continued Lyall. “Tell Dumbledore, then tell us.”

”Yeah.”

”But don’t let anything happen. Lay low.”

”But socialise. Make friends,” said his mother.

”You’re there to learn, Remus.”

”But have fun as well.”

”You’re getting confusing now,” Remus concluded. They finally released him, though not before the exchanges of I-love-you and be-safe, and Hope embarrassingly kissing Remus on both cheeks and his forehead.

Remus dragged his trunk down the train corridor, one hand on the leather handle, the other holding onto Arianrhod’s cage, quickly stepping back as a bespectacled boy his age came charging down the corridor from the opposite direction, closely followed by his friend, a rather long-haired boy, also his age.

” ’scuse me!” said the boy.

”Sorry!” said his friend. Remus didn’t have time to reply before the two had disappeared off down the long, thin corridor.

Remus slid open the door of the nearest empty compartment. He had a right struggle getting his trunk onto the overhead rack and by the time he sat down he was out of breath. Arianrhod hooted indignantly. Her cage had been placed on the rack too, and she was itching to get out.

”Sorry,” said Remus, craning his neck upwards towards the rack. “Can’t let you out till we get there.” He opened up the window and searched for the faces of his parents, just as the train began to leave the station. He quickly spotted them and waved. They waved back, his mother rather frantically. They kept waving until the train finally departed through the tunnel and they were out of sight. Remus sat back down. He stretched himself out, stood up again, and had to take his shoes off to climb onto the seat and get a book out of his trunk. He needed something to pass the time. He also got out his uniform, ready to change when they were nearing the school.

He spent the journey reading. It calmed his nerves, distracting himself with descriptions of spells, history about the castle, working out what he’d be learning that year.

No one bothered him on the journey, except for the trolley lady.

”Anything from the trolley, dear?” She asked, sliding open the compartment. His father had given him a few galleons to spend, something that Remus had tried to protest against. They weren’t very rich, but his father had insisted.

”Just some chocolate frogs, please,” replied Remus. Chocolate Frogs were his favourite. He was able to buy quite a few for just a galleon.

The only other person he met was a red-haired girl who was looking for her cat.

”Hi,” she greeted. “I’m Lily. You haven’t seen a cat have you? A little tabby thing. Goes by the name Tabby.”

”A tabby cat called Tabby?”

”Short for Tabitha.”

”No, sorry. Haven’t seen her.”

”Blast! She’s always wandering off.” Just then, a boy her age came up beside her.

”Come on, Lily.” He was a very skinny, pale boy with black hair that hung over his eyes like curtains.

”Hang on, Sev, I’m talking to... what’s your name?” She turned back to Remus.

”Remus,” he said, eager to share his name.

”I’m talking to Remus.” The boy— Sev— stared at him. He appeared unimpressed. He didn’t even smile.

”What happened to your face?” was all he asked. Lily stared daggers at him.

”Severus, that’s rude.”

” ’s alright,” affirmed Remus, a little awkwardly. “I was attacked, by a dog. When I was little.”

”Heavens,” said Lily. “That must have been scary.” Remus shrugged, as if the thought never occurred to him.

“Can’t really remember it.” Severus tugged impatiently at Lily’s sleeve.

”Come on, Lily, let’s go.”

”Okay, I’m coming. But I’ve still got to find Tabby.” She followed her friend out of the compartment. “Bye!” She waved at Remus. Remus waved back, and then she was gone.

It was almost night time when the train arrived at Hogsmeade station. Remus departed with everyone else, straightening his tie and finding his bearings. A voice boomed across the platform

”Firs’ years over ’ere! Firs’ years this way!” Remus looked in the direction of the voice and was met by a giant of a man. He was holding up a lantern and signalling to any first years to follow him. Remus entered the crowd of eleven year olds and was able to get a closer look at the man: he had a brown, scraggly beard, so wild and bushy that only his eyes were visible. His hands were about the size of Remus’s entire torso, and the height! The more Remus looked up at him, the more his neck started to ache.

”Firs’ years follow me!” The man led them down a rocky path, in the opposite direction to the other students. “Righ’ then. Just over this rock yer gonna get yer firs’ glimpse o’ Hogwarts.” Gasps met Remus’s ears as the castle came into view. Remus, too was in awe. The place was huge and every window and tower was lit up, making the pitch black scene look like a million candles had lit up to guide them. Remus couldn’t quite believe he was actually seeing this, thinking for all those years that he’d never be standing here.

”We’re travellin’ by boat, so get into groups of four, an’ don’t touch the water. Not if you want the Giant Squid to pull you in.” A couple of children laughed, either the wizarding children who were familiar with the Giant Squid, or muggleborns who couldn’t tell if the man was joking or not.

Remus ended up in a boat with three kids he didn’t know. Two of them clearly knew each other, as they were whispering fiercely into the other’s ears. The other kid was very small and very shy looking. As the boats set off, Remus decided to try and befriend the boy.

”Hi,” he greeted. “I’m Remus. Remus Lupin.” He held his hand out. The boy took it nervously.

”Peter,” the boy replied. “Pettigrew.”

”Nice to meet you Peter Pettigrew.” The boy gave a small smile. “Do you know what house you’ll be in?” Peter shook his head.

“ ’spect I’ll be in Hufflepuff or something. Me grandad says it’s the worst one.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Besides, Hufflepuff’s a great house. They all are I think.”

“Ain’t Slytherin the evil one? ’s’one You-Know-Who was in.”

“That’s not the house’s fault.”

“Think you’ll be in it then?”

“Nah. I’m hoping for Gryffindor. Or Ravenclaw. But I don’t mind.”

“Nah, mate, Pettigrew’s right,” interjected the other boy, who must have been listening. “Get sorted into Slytherin and you’re guaranteed to end up a dark wizard.” Remus looked at him with amused scepticism.

“If you’re not already a dark wizard, I don’t see how a House would turn you into one,” he said calmly.

“Yeah but that’s the point, innit? All the dark wizards are sorted into Slytherin, because it’s all dark magic in that house. Everyone in Slytherin is in cahoots with You-Know-Who, take my word for it.” Just then, the boats bumped gently onto the shore, and the giant man signalled them all to follow him up the grand front steps of the castle.

“Everyone alrigh’?” he checked, before opening the doors to lead them inside. The entrance Hall was huge, bigger than Remus was expecting, and standing in the middle of it was a stern looking woman with black hair scraped tightly into a bun. Square glasses framed her eyes.

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid. McGonagall nodded her head.

“Thank you, Hagrid,” she replied in a thick Scottish accent. Hagrid left them with the woman, and she looked at them over the frame of her glasses.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” she began, launching into a speech that gave off the impression she had said these same words hundreds of times already. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your houses will be like your family. You will have classes with your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend your free time in your House common room. 

“The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose points. At the end of the year, the house cup will be awarded to the house with the most points, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. 

“The Sorting ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.” She looked at them pointedly, and Remus self-consciously smoothed his hair down and adjusted his robes. McGonagall then instructed them to follow her, and the students were led into a small and rather dark room just off where the Great Hall was.

“I will return when we are ready for you,” she said. She left them standing there in the room, looking around themselves and waiting nervously to find out what the Sorting Ceremony entailed. Peter, who was by Remus’s side, nudged him.

“D’you know how we get sorted? Me family wouldn’t tell me.”

“Neither would my dad,” replied Remus. “He just said it was some sort of test.” Remus had taken this to mean a knowledge-based test, so he had poured through his new schoolbooks to try and learn as much as he could, but he hoped that they wouldn’t be asked to duel or anything. Theories of spells from books could only get you so far.

Suddenly, Remus heard a yelp from behind him. He looked round, and spotted a translucent figure ambling through the crowd of first years, who ducked out of the way to avoid the freezing cold sensation of having a ghost walk through you. 

“Good evening,” greeted the ghost. “Waiting to get sorted are you? Well, I hope to see you in Gryffindor. My old house, you know.” Remus quickly figured out that the ghost was Nearly Headless Nick, but before he could say hello, the ghost disappeared through the closed doors and Professor McGonagall reappeared a moment later.

“You may enter,” she instructed, opening the door and leading them through. They were at the front of the Great Hall. All eyes from the four long tables were fixated on them. Remus felt rather self-conscious and hung back a little so that he was safely hidden among the group of first years. McGonagall stopped halfway and went to stand by a stool which was in front of the teacher’s table. On the stool sat an old hat. Everyone seemed to be staring at it, so Remus joined in, though he was very confused. What kind of test was this? Were the test papers under the hat?

Suddenly, the seams of the hat split open into what looked like a mouth, and to Remus’s surprise, the hat began to sing:

A thousand years gone by it’s true,

You stand before me young and new.

Your destiny today will mark,

Your future lain before you stark.

As Gryffindor welcomes the bold and the brave,

Slytherin the ambitious and the cunning knave.

Hufflepuff greets the just and loyal,

Ravenclaw congratulates hard work and great toil.

And on your head I must be placed,

To decide the path that you must face.

For at Hogwarts your house shall be your home,

And whichever is picked, you mustn’t moan.

The Founders of Great determined to teach,

All students, as one, to great heights you shall reach.

And dangers you’ll battle, the unknown beware,

Your houses are here to help you prepare.

And while you are divided still, when all is said and done,

The houses shall come together, they will, ready to fight as one.

The entire Hall erupted into applause, the first years following suit, despite their plain bewilderment. McGonagall cleared her throat and stepped forward.

“When I call your name, you shall place the hat on your head and sit on the stool to be sorted.” She held out a roll of parchment and began to read.

“Alderman, William.” A blonde boy emerged from the crowd, looking very nervous to be the first one to get sorted. He sat hesitantly on the stool. McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head. A few moments later the hat shouted “HUFFLEPUFF!” and the Hufflepuff table erupted into applause. William smiled in faint relief as he joined his fellow Hufflepuffs. Remus was incredulous. All they had to do was try on a hat? His father had lied to him! All that time spent studying! He felt almost cheated, but the relief at not having to take a test immediately after arriving was greater than his sense of annoyance, so he spent little time thinking about it and refocused on the sorting, just as “Avery, Alexander” became the first Slytherin.

“Black, Sirius.” A boy eagerly stepped up to the podium, grinning as the hat was placed onto his long, dark hair. Remus recognised him as the boy who charged past him on the train with his friend. The hat stayed still for a minute, before eventually shouting “GRYFFINDOR!”

A murmur went around the Hall before the Gryffindor table cheered the new arrival. Remus knew why. Sirius Black; must have been related to the infamous Black family, insanely proud of their pureblood status and every one of them— as far as Remus could tell— had been in Slytherin. Remus noticed that Sirius’ grin faltered ever so slightly, and his eyes darted over to the Slytherin table, but he seemed to quickly pull himself together, and as he walked to the Gryffindor table he high-fived his glasses-wearing friend. Remus was a little nervous now in case he was sorted into Gryffindor. If Sirius was anything like his family, Remus would at once be seen as an enemy, just for being half-blood. And if he was found out to be a werewolf... and on top of that, a boy who had secretly been born a girl... he hoped sharing a dormitory with a member of the Black family wasn’t going to end up jeopardising his entire future at Hogwarts.

”Evans, Lily,” called McGonagall. Remus straightened slightly at the name Lily, watching the bright red hair flutter past him to the podium. The hat was placed on her head and very soon the hat yelled “GRYFFINDOR!” More cheering as Lily smiled and almost skipped over to the table. Remus wondered if she had managed to find her cat.

Soon, it was Remus’s turn.

”Lupin, Remus.” Remus gulped nervously, not even stopping to enjoy the fact that Remus was listed as his name. He walked up to the stool, head down, and as the hat was placed on his head, he jumped slightly as an unfamiliar voice sounded in his ear.

”Well, well, what an interesting student we have here.” Remus realised that the voice must have belonged to the hat, and that only he could hear it. “I see a lot of Ravenclaw in you. Intelligent, very intelligent. Just like your father. But... you also have secrets. Such big secrets. Such things you’ve been through, things that would surely break a weaker person, yet you’re here against all the odds. Very impressive. And as for your house, well... I think it had better be... GRYFFINDOR!” The last word was yelled to the rest of the Hall. Remus exhaled a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and joined the Gryffindor table as the applause died down. He couldn’t wait to tell his father that he was in Gryffindor. He sat next to Lily, Sirius across from him. Sirius held out his hand.

”Sirius Black. Nice to meet you.” Remus took it, suppressing any slight hesitance he felt.

“Remus Lupin. Nice to meet you too,” he replied amicably.

“McKinnon, Marlene” was sorted into Gryffindor, and “Mulciber, Cassius” became the next Slytherin.

“Pettigrew, Peter,” called McGonagall, and Remus sat up to watch the small blonde boy scuttle over to the stool, looking like he’d faint with nerves. Remus couldn’t help but sympathise. The hat went right down over Peter’s ears, and the Hall hushed. Waiting.

They waited for ages. Sirius started fidgeting after a few minutes. 

“Bloody hell,” he muttered. “What’s taking so long? Did the hat fall asleep or something?” Remus was resting his head on his hand. It must have been at least five minutes by now. 

“Is it possible to not get sorted?” whispered Lily to Remus. Remus thought about it.

“I’m not sure,” he whispered back. “Surely it wouldn’t be.”

Eventually, as the Hall started to buzz with murmurs and some outbursts of taunting, the seams of the hat split open and yelled “GRYFFINDOR!” The Gryffindor table clapped in response, mainly out of relief if anything. Peter walked over to the table, head bent low, but looking relieved to have bagged a place at the Gryffindor table.

“You alright?” asked Remus, as the boy sat down next to him. Peter nodded.

“It was weird though,” he said. “The hat went quiet for ages.”

“You had us worried there, mate,” Sirius chimed in. “Thought they were gonna have to chuck you out.” 

Before anyone could say anything more, McGonagall read out the next name.

“Potter, James.” A messy-haired boy strutted up to the stool with a confidence that Remus could only dream of having. When the boy turned round to have the hat placed on his head, Remus recognised him as Sirius’s friend. Sirius grinned as the minute ticked by before the hat shouted “GRYFFINDOR!” and cheered the loudest out of anyone else. James was grinning too as he sat down next to Sirius and began introducing himself.

More and more students were sorted. The boy Remus had talked to on the boat— “Stebbins, Joseph” was sorted into Hufflepuff, and “Snape, Severus”, Lily’s friend from the train was sorted into Slytherin. He didn’t look very happy about it, but then Remus had yet to see the boy look happy about anything. Lily, too, looked a little disappointed, and she clapped along with the Slytherin table as he walked past. 

As the last students were sorted (“Williams, Owain” and his sister “Williams, Anwen” became the next Gryffindors), the Hall grew more and more restless. Everyone wanted their dinner.

The last student, “Yaxley, Corban” was sorted into Slytherin, and at last the Hat was taken away, and McGonagall resumed her seat at the teacher’s table. A hush fell over the students as Dumbledore stood up to address the school.

“Welcome to a new term at Hogwarts,” he announced, smiling down at them all. “And welcome especially to this year’s first years. I am certain you will enjoy your stay here. But now I understand we all want to eat, so I shall not keep you waiting any longer. Let there be food!” He held out his arms, almost as if he was summoning the food himself. And perhaps he was, because all at once mounds of food appeared before their eyes. Chicken, Yorkshire puddings, roast potatoes, mashed potatoes. There were even chips. The thick, crispy kind that Remus loved. He had never seen so much food. It was hard to hold a conversation with all that choice to eat.

They tried though.

James and Sirius took over the conversation, talkative as they were, while Remus was happy to listen and chime in when needed.

“The Chudley Cannons are the best team,” James was saying, opening up an argument that he’d clearly already had with his friend, who sighed dramatically.

“The Chudley Cannons haven’t won since 1862!” exclaimed Sirius. “You couldn’t get a worse team if you tried.”

“What are the Chudley Cannons?” asked Lily, who had been trying to talk to Anwen, but James and Sirius weren’t easy to ignore.

“It’s a Quidditch team,” replied Remus.

“Oh right. My friend told me about Quidditch... that sport you all play.”

“Only the best sport ever,” claimed James.

“I take it you’re a muggleborn,” said Remus, turning back to Lily.

“Yeah. I’m still getting used to everything. I was supposed to be going to my sister’s secondary school before I got my letter.” Remus glanced at Sirius. He looked perfectly fine at the mention of Lily’s muggleborn status, if anything he barely noticed. Remus at once relaxed. He was good at figuring out when people were hiding something, being so used to doing it himself. He would have been able to tell if Sirius was only pretending to be okay with Lily so as not to cause a scene, but was later going to ambush the girl, but Sirius showed no sign of caring, and was clearly only interested in discussing Quidditch. Remus felt a sudden wave of respect for the boy, with him having to grow up in such a prejudiced family yet still was able to conduct a perfectly normal conversation with those he was supposed to be prejudiced against. Remus wondered how Sirius’s parents were going to react when they found out their son was in Gryffindor. But if Sirius was worried about it, he was doing a good job at hiding it.

“Your sister isn’t magic?” asked James.

“No...” Lily looked sad all of a sudden, and Remus tried to divert the conversation.

“My mum’s a muggle,” he said. “My dad isn’t.”

“She must have got a bit of a shock when they married,” joked Sirius.

“Not really. She pretty much takes everything in her stride.”

The feast went well in Remus’s opinion. He was already making friends and no one at the Gryffindor table had even asked him about the scars on his face. He was feeling very optimistic by the time Dumbledore stood up to mark the end of dinner.

“Ahem—” he began. “Now that we’ve all been fed, I’d like to add a few more words, as well as give a few start-of-term notices.

“First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. I’d also like to remind you all that no magic is to be used in the corridors between classes.

And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as he flicked his wand, golden ribbons twirling out of it, rising above the tables and twisting into words.

“Everyone pick their favourite tune,” said Dumbledore. “And off we go!” And all around where Remus sat, the school began to bellow:

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, 

Teach us something please.

Whether we be old and bald,

Or young with scabby knees.

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they’re bare and full of air

Dead flies and bits of fluff.

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we’ve forgot.

Just do your best, we’ll do the rest

And learn until our brains all rot.

From where Remus was sitting, James and Sirius were singing the loudest, standing up as if they were performing. Remus smiled at the sight, although the level of noise in the Hall was rather overwhelming to his sensitive hearing. He covered his ears and quietly joined in, picking a tune his mother sometimes sung to him, something familiar. It was quite slow though, so he had to cut himself off at the last few lines to avoid being left the last few singing.

Dumbledore conducted until the Hall fell briefly silent, and then he, along with everyone else, applauded.

“There is nothing more magical than music!” He stated. “And now, off to bed!”

The first years were herded out of the Hall by the Gryffindor prefect, who was named Amanda Haighton, and she explained the journey to the Gryffindor common room to a group of students who weren’t really listening. Remus was avidly taking in his surroundings, at the moving paintings that greeted them as they walked by to the moving staircases that his father had warned him about. Everything was moving, and rather than making him feel anxious as was usually the case, the din and bustle of the school simply made Remus feel more and more excited at being there. For the last few hours he had let go of his worries and felt... almost free. But as they got closer to the common room he felt the familiar dread that crept up into him as bedtime drew closer. Alone with his thoughts in the dark and quiet always scared him. They were always rather oppressive and overwhelming and exhausting, and he usually read for as long he could until he was so tired that he fell asleep without a single internal distraction, but by then the clock had usually already struck three in the morning.

The Gryffindor common room was entered through an archway, guarded by a painting of a very fat lady.

“Password?” The lady asked Amanda.

“Aeno ignis,” replied the prefect. The painting swung open and the first years followed Amanda through into the round, cosy room. A fire was burning in the grand fireplace and comfortable looking armchairs dotted the room.

“Boys’ dormitories are on your left,” informed Amanda, pointing at the foot of a thin-looking staircase on the left hand side of the room. “Girls’ are on your right.” Remus followed the rest of the boys up the stairs towards the boys dormitory. He felt slightly hesitant before the staircase. He’d read that the girls dormitory had some sort of enchantment on it, so that the stairs would turn into a slide if a boy tried to climb them. He knew the boy’s dormitory didn’t have the same thing, but all the same, he couldn’t help but think what would happen if he tried to walk up the stairs and they wouldn’t let him. That Dumbledore had lied to him, and that Hogwarts really did see him as a girl. He almost flinched when he placed his foot onto the first step.

Nothing happened. He tried the second step. And the next, and the next. Soon he was in the dormitory. He’d made it.

Feeling even more ecstatic than before, he began unpacking his trunk, which had somehow been brought up to his bed. He only took his pyjamas out, not wanting to fully unpack his trunk until the rest of the boys were asleep— he still had various things to take out and hide. He also wasn’t too keen on undressing in front of them. Not yet anyway. So he undressed behind the scarlet curtains of his four poster bed and re-emerged when he was safely in his pyjama shirt and bottoms.

It took a while for the dormitory to wind down. James and Sirius were messing about, throwing pillows at each other. Owain was telling them to shut up, and Peter was hiding in his own bed. Remus decided to read until the others were safely asleep.

It was around ten o’clock when the dorm became silent. Remus stuck his head out of the curtains, the darkness of the room hitting him, though he didn’t have much trouble seeing: his senses had been heightened ever since the attack, a side affect of his lycanthropy, although he could usually use this one to his own benefit.

He rummaged around in his trunk, unpacking his clothes and books, then he reluctantly pulled out the products his mum had packed, as well as the “just in case” sports bras. There weren’t many hiding-place options, and Remus was certainly not going to risk sneaking out on his first night at the school, so all he could do was stuff them under his mattress and hope that no one would have any reason to look there.

Once he’d done that, he returned to his warm bed and lay on his back, staring at the wooden covering. He could always tell when his thoughts were going to lead him into an unfavourable direction, so he could decide whether to read or not, but for once his mind was fairly quiet. The optimism he’d gained from the Great Hall was still lingering around him and by the time the clock had struck eleven, Remus was fast asleep, dreaming of the school days to come.

Chapter Text

Remus had always had a habit of sleeping in. He assumed it stemmed from his almost permanent exhaustion, brought on by his monthly transformations and the plain anxiety that kept him up way past midnight. Waking up in the morning, therefore, was as hard for him as going to sleep at night. However, on his first proper day of school, Remus woke up unusually early. His mind must have subconsciously— and fretfully— ensured that there was no way he could be late, and he was rather glad he was awake before the rest of the dormitory, as it meant that he could get dressed in peace. It also meant he could use the bathroom without worrying about the other boys; he’d never used a boys’ bathroom before, because he’d never had to, what with having spent the majority of his life in his house. As a result, he was slightly fearful, and embarrassed, since he couldn’t use the urinals. He decided he’d only use the bathroom when no one else was around, and hoped that there’d be no outstanding emergency to compromise this plan.

The Great Hall was sparsely filled, mainly with first and second years who were still very much trying to make a good impression and arrive early to everything, something that the older students no longer really bothered with. Remus walked to the front of the Gryffindor table where he’d sat last night. The tables were already laden with food, this time of the more breakfast sort: bacon, eggs, toast, cereal and a number of different drinks. Lily was there too, eating a slice of toast and talking to her friend Severus, who hadn’t actually sat down. As Remus approached, Severus stared at him as unsmiling as ever.

“Morning,” greeted Remus.

“Oh hi Remus!” Lily smiled at him, and he noted with vague surprise that she had managed to remember his name. She shifted over a little and patted the wooden bench with her palm. “Sit down!” Remus quickly obliged, then turned to Severus.

“Don’t you want to sit down?” he asked. Severus looked at him like he’d asked something stupid.

“This isn’t my table. I’m only here to say hello to Lily.”

“You don’t have to sit at your table, Sev,” said Lily. “It’s not a rule... at least I don’t think it is.”

“It’s my first day. If I’m seen sitting at the Gryffindor table instead of the Slytherin table I’ll be considered a traitor.”

“A traitor? Bit harsh isn’t it? It’s just breakfast,” remarked Remus, who was now buttering his own slice of toast. Severus scoffed.

“You clearly don’t understand house dynamics.” Remus raised an eyebrow, but didn’t reply. Severus turned back to Lily. “I’ll see you after class.” Lily nodded in agreement, as Severus turned away and walked back to the Slytherins.

“He’s a bit... fierce, isn’t he?” observed Remus, once Severus was out of earshot. Lily just smiled.

“He’s not very good with people, but he’s alright once you get to know him.”

“Is that possible?”

“Yes. I did, and he’s nice to me.” Remus dropped the conversation as more students began to filter into the Hall. The next boy he saw from his dormitory was Owain, who was carrying a rather significant pile of books. Owain sat near them, near enough for conversation.

“Why do you have so many books?” asked Lily. 

“I didn’t know which one I’d need, so I brought all of them.”

“You only need Magical Theory for the first lesson,” said Remus, who had the book sitting next to him on the table. Other than that, he only had his wand. Anything else he needed he could fetch between classes, and he already had his timetable memorised, so it wouldn’t take long. Owain sighed and pulled out a book from the bottom of the pile.

“Thanks. I lost my timetable.”

Peter joined them next, walking slightly haphazardly as he struggled with his tie, nearly bumping into an oncoming student. He soon succeeded in his task and flopped down next to the three of them.

“When’s the mail getting here?” was his first question.

“I assume when everyone’s arrived,” replied Remus. Peter scrunched up his nose as he looked around the sparsely filled Hall. 

Sirius and James were the last of the first year Gryffindors to arrive. By then, the first year end of the table was buzzing with conversation. There were two other Gryffindor boys, Tobin Hyslop and Jethro Becker. Remus hadn’t really spoken to them last night, but Jethro turned out to be particularly interested in poltergeists, which Remus was able to provide valuable insight into; Jethro was very excited to hear that Remus’s father worked with poltergeists and asked endless questions about how to deal with them and which spells to use. Remus answered as best he could, although out of all the creatures Lyall studied, poltergeists had never truly struck Remus’s fancy. He simply saw them as overconfident ghosts. Tobin was quieter, and spent the duration of breakfast in front of a propped up book about Charms.

Anwen Williams, Owain’s twin sister, was sitting next to Lily and was chatting to her animatedly, and a girl sitting across from them, whom Remus remembered to be called Mary McDonald, chimed in every now and again.

Sirius and James were arguing over something when they arrived, though it seemed to be light-hearted enough. They only vaguely acknowledged the others, and Remus was too engrossed in another conversation with Owain to take much notice of them. They sat down just as the post arrived.

Owls of all shapes and sizes flocked into the Hall through a window near the ceiling, carrying letters and parcels in their talons or beaks. The sky was a flurry of muted colours and fluttering wings. Remus kept an eye out for his family’s old owl, who wasn’t hard to miss, being of the very large Long-Eared species. He eventually caught sight of him, and was pleased to see that he was carrying quite a bundle: two letters and a parcel. The owl dropped them in front of him and resumed his flight out of the castle with the rest of the owls.

Remus opened the parcel first, feeling the curious eyes of his classmates watch him as they opened their own mail. The parcel contained a various selection of sweets, both muggle and wizarding. Peter was fairly interested. 

“Are these real?” he asked, picking up a red Sugar Mice. Remus chuckled.

“Course not. It’s muggle, isn’t it? It’s just sugar.” Remus knew he should save the goodies. They were only a one-off treat, after all. His mother didn’t like him eating sugar at the best of times, but he couldn’t help but open one of the Chocolate Frogs... and the little packet of Malteasers. He shared them with the others.

The first letter was from his mother. He knew so immediately, not by the handwriting, but by the fact that it was in Welsh. He smiled at that, guessing that that was her way to make him feel less homesick. He showed it to Owain, who looked happily surprised. The other letter was, unexpectedly, from Dumbledore. Remus hid this one from the others. The man had requested to see him at lunchtime in his office and informed him that the password was Cauldron Cakes. He didn’t say anything else, though Remus could guess at least one of the topics that Dumbledore was keen to talk to him about.

Remus finished his breakfast and had just enough time to return to his dorm and stash the remaining contents of his parents’ parcel before heading to class. The first lesson was Magical Theory with Professor Whittaker, a stout lady somewhere in her late forties at least, who carried an exceptionally long wand. Remus didn’t have too much trouble finding the class, unlike Peter, who Remus met down one of the corridors going in the complete opposite direction, so Remus let him tag along. They made it there within five minutes of the start of the lesson.

Professor Whittaker was rather strict, Remus discovered, but she seemed to go from nought to a hundred very quickly. When the class was behaving she was as nice as pumpkin pie, smiling at the students and willingly offering an explanation when a student struggled to follow along with the text. But when she turned around and caught sight of James Potter clearly not concentrating— his head was turned to the side and he was vaguely leaning backwards and forwards in his chair— she waved her wand and abruptly brought the front of his chair crashing down, almost causing his head to bang against the tabletop. Sirius laughed louder than anyone.

The next lesson was transfiguration, and Remus heard James saying that he was looking forward to this one. They shared this class with the Slytherins, so Lily was picked up by Severus outside the Magical Theory classroom, and the two walked together. Remus had to go back upstairs to fetch his copy of A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration.

Professor McGonagall taught this class, the stern-looking woman they’d all met last night. Unlike Whittaker, she was consistently strict, which wasn’t great, but at least you knew where you stood with her.

The majority of the lesson was spent with McGonagall explaining the basics of transfiguration; the theory, the history, and some of the wand movements they’d be using. Once again, James was reprimanded for drifting off and not listening, but finally, in the last ten minutes of the lesson, McGonagall permitted them to attempt turning a matchstick into a needle. It was small stuff, but the class was excited nonetheless. This was the first time they were permitted to use magic.

Soon the room was filled with the sounds of incantations as the students waved their wands over lifeless matchsticks. A few students managed to succeed in their endeavour, judging by the occasional cheer, and praise from McGonagall. Amazingly, one of those students was James, who was in fact the first to obtain a needle from his matchstick. The others were very impressed, and James was by no means an example of humility: he soaked up the admiration with his signature cocky grin.

Remus managed to achieve the task after quite a few tries.

“Well done, Mr Lupin,” observed McGonagall, making Remus smile for more than one reason. Peter on the other hand achieved little more than moving his matchstick an inch to the left, but since this was still more than what some students had managed, McGonagall advised him against being disheartened.

Very soon, McGonagall began to dismiss the class, praising their work, advising them to practice, and— to the annoyance of the class— assigning them homework. They had to write a foot long essay on Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration.

A few more lessons passed, with no noteable events apart from the incredible boredom of History of Magic. Remus had hoped the class was going to be quite interesting, especially when he found out the teacher was a ghost, but even he— lover of history— struggled to keep his gaze from wandering out of the window and his thoughts turning to anything other than the properties of the earliest wands. He looked over his shoulder to where James was sitting. The boy had clearly given up altogether and appeared to be asleep. Remus stifled a laugh as Sirius began to balance all sorts of objects on his friend: a quill, a roll of parchment, an ink pot, his wand... others had noticed and were silently encouraging him, passing him things under the desk to balance, much more entertained by this as they were by anything Professor Binns was droning on about. Incidentally, Professor Binns hadn’t noticed a thing.

When the class ended, Remus heard giggles from behind. The sounds of chairs scraping and students rushing to leave had caused James to jerk awake, and everything that Sirius had managed to pile on top of him— which turned out to be a rather impressive total of fifteen items as Sirius later informed them— had tipped over onto the floor, and James had just sat there looking utterly confused, while Sirius roared with laughter.

Lunch arrived, and Remus had something quick— a sausage roll and a sip of pumpkin juice— and told Lily he was going to the library after she questioned why he was excusing himself so soon.

He struggled to find Dumbledore’s office and ended up having to ask a passing ghost for directions. The directions were eventually correct but they somehow took him all around the castle, and put him off from asking anything from a ghost again. Finally, he found himself stood in front of a huge bronze statue of a griffin. It stared at him with steely eyes. He cleared his throat.

“Um... Cauldron cakes?” he asked it with slight apprehension, but to his relief the statue clanked into motion and began to spiral around, until a staircase appeared. The staircase continued to move, so Remus hopped aboard and let it take him to the foot of a large wooden door. Remus knocked.

“Come in,” called a voice which he immediately recognised to be Dumbledore’s. Remus pushed open the door. It groaned with its own weight.

“Ah, Mr Lupin. How nice to see you.” He smiled behind his beard. The man was sitting at his desk. Remus came forward and looked around. It was a room filled with fascinating little objects, and shelves piled high with books, ancient, leather-bound books, but what was most curious were the portraits on the walls, or at least, Remus assumed they were portraits. They had all been covered up, draped over with fabric as if they were in mourning. Dumbledore seemed to read his thoughts.

“I thought it best to conduct our conversation in private. I find paintings have a tendency to gossip. Unsurprising, of course. They have little else to do.” His eyes crinkled at the sides, an indication that he was smiling. Remus was grateful. If they were going to talk about his lycanthropy, then he certainly didn’t want any nosy portraits listening in, especially not a bunch of old headmasters and headmistresses.

Dumbledore held out his hand towards a chair that stood across from him, instructing Remus to sit down. Remus obeyed.

“Would you like a ginger snap?” Offered Dumbledore, holding out a bowl of very thin, orange biscuits. “They’re muggle. I’ve found them to be quite tasty.”

“No, thank you, sir,” replied Remus politely. In truth, he actually hated ginger snaps. In fact, he wasn’t really a biscuit person at all. He was more of a chocolate person. Dumbledore picked up one of the biscuits, snapped it cleanly in half, and dipped one of the halves into a cup of tea that sat atop a pile of papers.

“So, Mr Lupin. We have plenty to discuss.” Dumbledore popped the now tea-soaked biscuit into his mouth.

“Yes, sir.”

“Your lycanthropy, first and foremost, needs to be properly managed,” continued the man once he’d finished chewing. “As I’ve said before, there are a number of places within which you can transform safely. I suggest the Shrieking Shack. Are you familiar with it?” Remus nodded.

“A little. It’s near Hogsmeade, isn’t it? And legend says it’s haunted.”

“Why, so is Hogwarts. Besides, I don’t imagine any ghost would be able to harm you.”

“I know,” replied Remus, not meaning to sound impertinent, but male pride took over for a second and he baulked at the subtle insinuation that he may have been scared of ghosts.

“I would also suggest the Forbidden Forest, but a number of rather dangerous creatures reside there and I fear that you are too young and do not have the experience to deal with them, even in your werewolf form. Besides, there may be some creatures that you could end up harming, such as unicorns or centaurs that could cause detriment and distress to your human form. So it is perhaps best that you steer clear of the forest altogether.

“The Shrieking Shack is joined by a tunnel that goes from the Hogwarts grounds right into the house itself. I shall show you exactly where, but I must warn you; a Whomping Willow tree was planted to hide the tunnel. You may have seen it from the entrance of the castle, but it is rather... temperamental. The best solution is to use the immobulus charm, which I suggest you practice in your free time ready for the upcoming full moon.”

“But... Sir, I can’t use magic outside of Hogwarts. How can I use the charm on the tree?”

“Well, my dear boy, as Headmaster, I have the ability to... bend the rules somewhat. It shall be that you can use magic during the full moon, but only if necessary.”

“Okay...” Remus didn’t really know what else to say. “The Shrieking Shack it is then.” There was a momentary silence while Dumbledore sipped from his teacup. Remus fidgeted awkwardly. He still had a lot of questions, but he wasn’t sure if Dumbledore was going to elucidate.

“There are also things we can do to help your transition into a boy,” Dumbledore suddenly continued, a statement which felt rather out of place from their original conversation, but Remus perked up nonetheless. He hadn’t thought that any of that had crossed Dumbledore’s mind, mainly because Remus’s own mind had been trying to avoid it, since it didn’t even know where to start. It didn’t know if there even was a start.

“Really?”

“Of course. Why, we have all sorts of magic at our disposal. I cannot see there being any difficulty in achieving this.” Remus was ecstatic. He’d assumed that he’d have to deal with his transition himself. That each day would pass by with him dreading the first signs of puberty, and when it did happen, he’d... well that was the point. He didn’t know what he’d do. His parents hadn’t known what to do either except encourage him to try and hide as much as possible. There was no information on this kind of stuff. He’d read every book he could get his hands on and he hadn’t found anything, so Dumbledore telling him that not only was Hogwarts going to help him, but that it would be easy, made him almost look forward to puberty now, especially if it was going to turn out to be the correct one.

But Dumbledore hadn’t finished.

“Madame Pomfrey, the Hogwarts matron, will be in charge of your transition. She is a trained medical healer after all, and since this is to do with your body, it’s only logical that she takes control.”

“Wait... someone else has to know?” Remus didn’t like the sound of that. He knew she was an adult and all, someone professional, but... he didn’t want anyone else to know if he could avoid it, and if his transition would be as easy as Dumbledore was making it out to be, then surely no one would ever have to know. But apparently, it was this Madam Pomfrey who would be the sole reason for his easy transition, so it had soon turned into a win/lose situation for him. He knew there had to be a catch. There always was.

“I’m afraid it’s unavoidable. Of course, you can choose not to tell her, but that would mean not transitioning.”

“Can’t you do it? It’s just gonna be spells and that, right? You can even tell me what spells to use and I’ll do it myself!”

“Mr. Lupin, it is not that simple—”

“You just said it was!”

“Simple for Madam Pomfrey. Not for you. Not even for me. It is magic, yes, but it is also medical. I am not trained. It would be dangerous, and frankly illegal. I’m sorry.” Remus sighed.

“Fine.” Transitioning was more important. It was the most important thing he could think of. He wasn’t going to jeopardise it just to avoid telling one other person. “Does she already know?”

“Not yet. I wanted to run it by you first, then I’d tell her. After that, I assume she shall set up a meeting with your parents, so they can discuss everything that shall happen moving forward, and they can give their permission.”

“I need my parent’s permission?”

“Yes, it is mandatory.”

“Oh.” That was obvious, of course, but he was worried. His mother would probably say yes, but what would his father say? He hoped that his father would be more focused on making sure no one found out that Remus had been born a girl, and surely the best way to hide that was for Remus to become completely indistinguishable from any other boy. But his father was stubborn...

He didn’t want to think about his father saying no, so he thought about something else.

“Can I meet Madam Pomfrey?” he asked. “Before you tell her anything.” He wanted to at least see if Madame Pompfrey seemed like someone he could trust.

“Of course. I shall talk to her, and owl you a time when she’s free. She shall also be informed of your lycanthropy, so she can deal with any injuries that you may sustain during your transformation. In fact, it would be advisable to visit Madam Pomfrey after every transformation before you go to breakfast, so she can check you over.” Remus nodded, indicating that this sounded satisfactory, and hoping that Madam Pomfrey would be nice, considering he’d now apparently be spending a lot of time with her. “Is there anything else you wish to discuss?”

“Yes. On the full moon, how do I sneak out of Hogwarts to the tunnel?” 

“The front doors will have a charm put on them. Every full moon they’ll open slightly to let you out. They won’t open fully in order to not cause any suspicion, but you still have to be careful to not let anyone see you. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The next morning the doors shall be open again properly. You can slip back inside before breakfast. I suggest you bring a change of clothes with you. I don’t imagine you want to be heading back to your dormitory with ripped attire.”

“No, sir.” Remus stood up. “If... if I may...” Dumbledore nodded.

“Yes, we don’t want you to be late for class. You are dismissed.”

“Thank you, sir. For everything,” he added. Dumbledore’s eyes once again crinkled at the sides, a sign that was already becoming familiar to Remus. He turned around, crossed the room, and opened the door. On the other side of the door he took a moment to collect his thoughts. He had a lot to think about. Some was good, and some was bad.

He wished he’d had some more lunch. He was already starting to get hungry again.

Chapter Text

The meeting with Madam Pomfrey had been set up for the following day. Dumbledore had owled Remus during dinner to say that he would unfortunately be meeting the woman alone, since Dumbledore would be away from the castle for a few days. Remus’s anxiety at meeting this lady in the first place increased considerably at the thought of explaining his situation to her by himself.

Along with this anxiety, Remus was feeling restless anyway. A full moon was coming up in two days’ time, and he was already starting to feel the effects. His senses were heightened, and Hogwarts was a noisy place at the best of times; the overwhelming sensory overloads he experienced were difficult to handle. Lily pointed out that he seemed very tetchy: in the Great Hall, with all the nonsensical chatter surrounding him, instead of eating he simply glared at his plate with his hands curled into fists, covering his ears. He usually had a rather calm disposition and a slow burning temper, but in the days leading up to the full moon, it wasn’t uncommon for him to feel the urge to smash something up.

The night before his meeting with Madam Pomfrey was a bad one. He couldn’t sleep at all, worried as he was about someone he didn’t know having control of his entire future. If she didn’t accept him, what was he supposed to do? Tell Dumbledore? Dumbledore could still force her to do her job, but if she was even slightly reluctant, she could end up putting him in danger.

Not only that, but Remus soon realised that Dumbledore had hardly given him any information about what he was supposed to do on the full moon. He barely even knew where the Whomping Willow was, let alone how to get there undetected. He’d have to pluck up the courage to ask him, but it was really cutting it fine, he thought.

Remus had to skip lunch again, but he wasn’t particularly hungry anyway. The walk from the Great Hall to the hospital wing wasn’t too far, but for Remus it felt much longer. His heartbeat was audible and it made him feel self-conscious, even though he knew no one else could hear it. When he finally reached the door of the wing, he took a second to knock. He didn’t even know what this woman looked like.

The door swung open, and there stood a rather thin woman in a very nurse-like uniform, a cap covering her short white hair, curled into tight ringlets. She smiled down at Remus, a nice smile, a warm smile. Not an ounce of fear or hesitation on her face at all. Remus allowed himself to relax ever so slightly.

“Come in, dear, my office is just round the back,” she began, her voice prim and proper, yet with a noticeable gentle edge to it. “We can sit in there. Luckily the place is empty at the moment, since there doesn’t tend to be many injuries in the first week of term. The calm before the storm I call it.” Remus was ushered into a little room filled with bottles of colourful potions, and a rather small desk with two chairs surrounding it. Madam Pomfrey pulled out one of the chairs and indicated that Remus was to sit down. He obeyed. Madam Pomfrey sat down opposite, taking a breath from all of her chatter. Her chatter was by no means nervous, though. It was friendly, and much to his relief, Remus couldn’t help but begin to trust her.

“Now,” she began. “We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?” Remus nodded. “What would you like to start with?”

“Oh, um...” he wanted to start with how he was going to transition, because despite his nervousness, he couldn’t help but be incredibly excited. But he wanted to get to know her more before he fully trusted her with that. “I suppose... my lycanthropy?”

“Of course,” she smiled again. He was beginning to really like her smile. “There’s not too much to discuss. I’m afraid there’s no potion I can give you to help, though I’m sure you’re already aware of that.” Remus nodded. If there had been even a semblance of a potion, his father would have jumped on it immediately. “Really, all I can do is check you over after every full moon for any injuries and cure them.”

“Okay.”

“However, I am also in charge of taking you to the Whomping Willow every month, you know, guiding you there and calming that blasted tree down.” Remus smiled, though more in relief than anything. That was one question ticked off his list, and he was very glad he didn’t have to deal with the full moon alone. He’d never done it alone before, his parents had always been there with him, and he couldn’t help but be rather thankful that he wouldn’t be spending the full moon with Dumbledore. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the man; he had a lot to thank him for, but that was the point. Remus was rather intimidated by him, and that was the last thing he needed when he was focusing on transforming. Madam Pomfrey on the other hand seemed like a much calmer presence, maternal almost. Remus needed that.

“Will you be there in the morning as well?” He asked awkwardly, hating how much of a child the question made him sound, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“Of course. I’ll be there to lead you back to the hospital wing. The only time you’ll be alone on the full moon will be the time you’re in your wolf form. I’ll be there for the rest of it.” 

“Thank you.” Remus was undoubtedly grateful, and was even ready to talk about the other topic of conversation that they were here for. He wished all people were like Madam Pomfrey.

Madam Pomfrey stood up and walked over to a cabinet of potions. Remus didn’t know if this was a cue for him to talk.

“So, um...” he started, trying to broach the subject of his transitioning, but having his sentence running away from him before he could think it through. “I’m a boy...” It sounded so stupid, but he was inexplicably flustered. The whole subject matter made him flustered. Madam Pomfrey sat back down and placed a vial of clear-looking potion onto the desk.

“Yes,” she affirmed. “I know. But unfortunately your body doesn’t, so we’re going to do something about that.” Remus suppressed a grin. Her statement was so blunt and determined, and exactly what he needed to hear.

“How?” He asked, eager for her to continue.

“See this potion?” Remus nodded, looking again at the water-like substance. “It’s called Morfosis, and this...” she smiled again, a wide smile that suggested some good news. “Will essentially make you go through male puberty instead of female puberty.” Remus sat up straight. He had been expecting something good, but this already went way beyond.

“Really?” He tried hard to stop himself from crying out in surprise, so as a result, his voice ended up as a whisper. Madam Pomfrey nodded.

“It’s a very recent concoction, but it’s perfectly safe. Believe me, we wouldn’t be giving it to you if it wasn’t. It essentially replaces your female hormones with male ones. Simple transfiguration, really.” It sounded too good to be true.

“What’s the catch?” Remus asked, his go-to question whenever something good happened. Madam Pomfrey slightly hesitated, which wasn’t a good sign.

“The catch is... as it stands... you’ll have to take this every week for the rest of your life.” Remus deflated. It wasn’t too bad a catch, considering the results it would give him, but the finality of the rest of his life was so daunting that he couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed.

“What if it runs out?” He asked. “Who makes more? I’ve already had two potions classes and I was terrible at them.” He was talking nervously now, but it was true. He’d been one of the worst in the class. He’d followed the recipe as closely as he could, and had even asked help from Lily who seemed to have a certain knack for potions, but he’d still ended up with a potion much darker and gloopier than anyone else’s.

Madam Pomfrey laughed.

“Of course you’re not going to be brewing the potion yourself, sweetheart, we have a potions master for that.”

“Oh.” Of course, thought Remus. Stupid thing to say. But wait... “You mean Professor Slughorn?” Madam Pomfrey nodded. “He has to know too?” Remus had met Slughorn a total of two times, and while the man seemed decent enough, Remus wasn’t exactly dying to come out to him as transgender— a term that he and his parents had only recently discovered, and which Remus was still trying to get used to. It was a big secret, but by this rate, half the castle would know before Halloween.

“He doesn’t have to know who it’s for if you don’t want him to,” said Madam Pomfrey.

“Really? He won’t ask?”

“Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean I have to answer.” Remus thought for a moment.

“I’d prefer that,” he stated. Madam Pomfrey nodded her affirmation. “When do I start taking the potion?”

“Well, we wanted to wait perhaps a year before taking it, although we can shorten that time if we feel you’re ready.”

“A year? Why can’t I take it now? I’m ready now.”

“It’s too early at the moment, for a number of reasons. We want you to be settled at Hogwarts, we want you to have a good schedule going with the full moon, we want you to be ready, we want your parents to be ready. So, you see, now isn’t quite the right time.” Remus nodded, though he wasn’t convinced. If he had it now he wouldn’t have to worry about anything. He was impatient. He wanted the potion, but he stopped himself from arguing, if only because he wanted to remain on Madam Pomfrey’s good side. He just settled with working out how to convince Madam Pomfrey to reduce the year long wait.  

“And is that all I need?” he continued. “The potion? Will it stop my chest from growing?”

“That depends,” she replied. “If your chest has already started to grow by the time you take it, then the potion won’t be able to make your chest flat again I’m afraid.”

“Oh... but there are other ways you can make it flat, right?”

“We can shrink it, yes, until it’s flat, but the spell will have to be maintained regularly. I can do that for you, so you don’t have to worry.” He didn’t think that sounded as comforting as she thought it did.

“Okay...” he said, rather reluctantly. “And if I get my period, will the potion stop it?”

“It should, but not immediately. It may take around six months.”

“Oh... It’s all quite... complicated.” Remus was no longer feeling as elated as before. There were rather a lot of catches and it all felt so exhausting. He sort of wished that the full moon was his only worry.

“It sounds it, yes, but it’s more simple in practice. And I doubt this will be our last conversation on it, so if anything’s worrying you, even in the slightest, you can always come here and discuss it with me.” ‘I’ll be here a lot then’ thought Remus, with a vague cynicism.  “Now, this is all well and good, but I will also have to discuss everything with your parents, and I shall need their permission to continue.”

“Oh yeah... I forgot.”

“I’ll do my best, Mr Lupin, but I can’t promise anything.”

“I know.” He just hoped his father wouldn’t screw it all up for him.

“Do you have any other questions?” she asked. He probably did, but his mind was already going at around a mile a minute— it had been for the last ten minutes— so he wasn’t able to focus on formulating any more questions.

“Not at the moment,” he replied.

“Well, if you think of any, you know where I am.” Remus nodded. “And I shall owl you before and after the meeting with your parents.” Remus nodded again; he didn’t really know what else to do. Madam Pomfrey turned her gaze to a clock above Remus’s head. “Merlin, look at the time. You’ll be late for class. Have you eaten?”

“Yes, Miss.” Remus thought it best to lie in case she forced some food down him. He still wasn’t very hungry, which was rare leading up to the full moon, but he currently had too much to worry about.

“Then, unless you have any more questions, I suggest we wrap this meeting up.” She looked at him expectantly.

“That’s alright, I should go now.” He stood up, knowing full well he wouldn’t be concentrating at all for the remainder of his classes. He had other things to think about. He wanted to get everything in his mind ordered to make it less overwhelming for him, but his mind wasn’t really allowing that.

Potion... Slughorn brewing it... six months?... period... chest... full moon coming up and the clock is too loud... tick tick... Merlin it was annoying.

Remus needed to leave.

“Thank you,” he said as he reached the doorway. “I appreciate everything you’re doing.” He hoped he didn’t sound disingenuous, because he really was very grateful.

“Not a problem, dear.” Once again she gave him that warm smile, and despite everything, he was glad he could trust at least one person here.

Dear Mr Lupin,

I’m happy to say that the meeting with your parents went well. However, they were not able able to make a decision immediately and have decided to spend a few days thinking it over. I expect they’ll want to discuss everything with you as well, and then we’ll decide exactly how to move forward. 

All the best, 

Madame Pomfrey.

His parents had owled him as well, just after Madam Pomfrey he assumed, though their letters had arrived at the same time. They said they wouldn’t discuss anything until after the full moon, so that he could focus on it, and that he shouldn’t worry: they just wanted to talk.

But he did worry, of course, because what did they want to talk about? What if they wanted to go down the route of simple transfiguration instead of the potion? More hassle, and less permanence. Two things he didn’t want.

The day of the full moon was always terrible. Remus was tense, jumpy, easily annoyed and susceptible to lashing out.

“Are you going to the library again today?” Lily asked him before lunch.

“What’s it to you?” he snapped back.

“I wanted to come, too.”

“I’m not going to the bloody library.” Lily looked at him steadily, confused.

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just stop talking!” and he marched off, leaving Lily standing in the corridor behind him. Another thing he’d have to feel guilty about tomorrow, no doubt.

Classes ended at four. As it was September, it started to get dark rather early and Dumbledore wanted him out of the castle by six. Remus excused himself at quarter past five, to no one in particular, since he’d been avoiding everyone anyway, and made the journey to the hospital wing. He avoided looking out of any windows, not wanting to catch sight of the moon. His back was aching, his hands were already clawing at his skin, lightly of course, causing no damage, but he couldn’t stop his fingers from repetitively bending and unbending. His ears picked up every tiny noise, every heartbeat, every breath, every footstep. It drove Remus mad.

He reached the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey was waiting for him.

“All set?” She asked, in a mysteriously low voice. Remus nodded. “I have a few patients,” she continued, which explained the voice. “But they’re asleep. Shouldn’t wake up until tomorrow. That being said, I can’t leave them for too long, just in case.” Remus didn’t care. He wanted to hurry up and leave. Madam Pomfrey seemed to share the sentiment as she quickly led him out of the room.

They had to go the long way, which meant less people and more corridors, making Remus more and more restless with every step he took. Thankfully, they didn’t end up running into anyone, and managed to reach the grounds unnoticed. The cool outside air on Remus’s itchy skin calmed him down ever so slightly. He certainly felt less claustrophobic.

“The tree is just down there,” Madam Pomfrey informed, and Remus caught sight of the branches poking out from behind a corner of the school building. “Stand back while I make sure it’s calm. Don’t want you getting caught by those nasty branches.” She went ahead of him, and as she neared the tree, the branches began lashing out. Amongst Remus’s feelings of tetchiness and irritation, accentuated by the now visible full moon, he felt a slight spark of concern. Those branches looked like they could do some real damage.

All at once, the branches stopped, and the tree was still. Madam Pomfrey materialised and beckoned him to follow.

“Now,” she began, stopping him just outside a large hole in the tree’s trunk. “This is the entrance to the tunnel. It’s all one way, so don’t worry about getting lost. Just a five minute walk, you’ll find yourself in the Shrieking Shack, and then you’re free to transform safely. Do you want me to come with you through the tunnel?”

“No. I can do it.” Remus was anxious to get going and didn’t want Madam Pomfrey holding him up. Besides, he didn’t know how much longer he could last in his human form, and he had no desire to put Madam Pompfrey in any danger. 

She saw him off, and Remus walked quickly through the tunnel, already feeling the beginnings of his transformation. His entire body was itching all over as fur began to grow. His legs and back screamed in agony as they started to stretch out and bend. His face was morphing into its wolf-like features, and he could even feel his eyes changing. It was painful, it was horrible. The only slight comfort for him was that he hardly remembered much the next day, though it did cause his consequential injuries to come as a slight shock when he saw them, even after six years.

By the time he’d reached the Shrieking Shack, he’d already transformed. He didn’t remember anything after that.

Chapter Text

Madam Pomfrey was there when he woke up. He was very disorientated at first, not knowing at all where he was. He was lying on some musty wooden floorboards, and dust was trapped in the strips of sunlight peaking through a cracked and grimy window. Something eventually stirred in his memory: The Shrieking Shack. He must have been in the Shrieking Shack.

Chapter Text

Things began to settle down at Hogwarts, in the sense that Remus was finally able to catch up with the classes he’d missed. So far he’d tended to stay up till quite late finishing off essays, which inadvertently caused him to lose focus in class the next day, but all in all, he was managing to keep up with everyone else. So what if he lost a little bit of sleep? He could sleep after the full moon.

Chapter Text

Breakfast the next day was a subdued affair, or at least it was for Sirius. The others weren’t aware of last night’s argument so they chatted amongst themselves as normal, but James clearly wasn’t speaking to him. He struck up a conversation with Remus, and didn’t even mention Sirius’s name once. He was most likely making a point: Sirius was near enough to hear him, but Sirius was now, essentially, sitting all on his own, not talking to anyone.

Remus almost felt sorry for him; after all, Sirius couldn’t help who his family were, and he was clearly trying to be different from them, he just hadn’t quite managed it yet. But that was as far as Remus’s empathy was willing to go. It wasn’t Remus’s job to educate him on why he was wrong. If Sirius cared enough, he’d find out himself, so until Sirius apologised, Remus wasn’t about to extend the branch of friendship any further towards him. He felt bad for James though. James was clearly upset by the whole thing, conflicted. His usual smile no longer reached his eyes, and he was a little lost without Sirius. While he had many admirers, Sirius was really his only friend. By lunchtime, he was wandering aimlessly around the school. Remus noticed, and went up to him.

”You alright?” He greeted. James shrugged his shoulders in response. “Haven’t you spoken to Sirius yet?”

Chapter Text

The journey back on the Hogwarts Express was much more fun than the first journey there had been. For starters, Remus’s compartment was full this time. Sirius, Peter and Owain were there with him (James had left a few days early for his trip to India with his parents), and Lily showed up halfway through, with Snape tagging along beside her. He looked as if he’d rather be anywhere else than a compartment filled with Lily’s other friends. Everyone introduced themselves, however, but Snape mainly kept to himself, his nose in a book and only really speaking to Lily; although he did show some interest in Sirius, attempting to draw him into a conversation. Weirdly, Sirius wasn’t being very engaging, which wasn’t like him at all. Snape eventually gave up and went back to talking solely with Lily, but he at least accepted Owain’s offer of a Bertie Bott Every Flavoured Bean. Luckily for him, it turned out to be marmalade flavoured.

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On Christmas Eve, when the family had returned from midnight mass at the local church (something that only Hope’s parents had really wanted to do, but they’d had a nice time anyway, singing carols or, in Remus’s case, falling asleep halfway through and being shaken awake by a disapproving grandfather), Remus was beckoned once again to the back porch by aunt Selene. He was exhausted, barely able to keep his eyes open, but his aunt was clearly excited about something, so he tried to stay as alert as possible.

Chapter Text

The holidays were nearly over, and the Lupin household was quiet. Remus hadn’t said much since the incident with his father although Lyall had apologised. He had come into Remus’s room the following morning and sat down on Remus’s bed, looking rather guilty. He’d apologised for calling him Dahlia, and explained how he had just been angry and wasn’t thinking about his words. He promised he’d never do it again, and asked if Remus could forgive him.

Remus knew he had no choice but to confirm that he did forgive him, but whether he actually did or not, Remus wasn’t sure. It was too early to tell.

What he did notice, though, was Lyall being more lenient towards him, the way he’d been after Remus had first been bitten. He even took Remus someplace secluded where Remus could try out his new broomstick, which had been enjoyable overall, but the broom itself was now tainted with memories of “The Argument”, so using it felt somewhat bittersweet. As for his parents, the two made an effort not to argue anymore, or at least not to argue around Remus, but this just meant ignored tension and fake laughter, pretending that everything was fine when they all knew full well that it wasn’t. Remus didn’t know which was worse, but one thing was for certain: he couldn’t wait to return to school.

Chapter Text

Remus found James and Sirius leaning over the table in the common room, whispering between themselves. He sat down beside them, which made them briefly stop and look up, before continuing immediately when they saw it was only him.

“The Fat Friar wanders around there, we can’t let him see us,” James was saying.

“But that’s the only passageway to the kitchens.” Remus looked down at the piece of paper the two were studying, and it looked like a route from the common room to the kitchens. It was drawn out in James’s scrawly handwriting, but Remus could still see that the route was inefficient.

“Why are you going the long way?” Remus asked.

“What do you mean?” replied James, looking up from the paper.

“Well, there’s a passageway that cuts through there, with a small staircase that leads directly to the kitchens. You won’t run into anyone.” The two boys blinked at him.

“How do you know that?” asked Sirius. Remus knew practically the whole of the castle’s layout. He’d been learning it ever since he’d arrived, already knowing several different routes out of the castle, a number of shortcuts, as well as hidden passages that no one went down. But of course, Remus couldn’t explain all that to James and Sirius without also needing to reveal the reasons behind it.

“Oh, I guess I just... happened across it,” was all he said.

“That’s brilliant!” exclaimed James. “You can come with us then, show us the way, and we’ll have Peter on lookout.” So the three began to make plans together, heads bent low, eventually calling Peter over so he knew what was going on. And it was fun! Exciting. It made them feel like a proper group of friends, all secretive and coordinated with each other.

“Oh wait!” James suddenly interrupted. “I just remembered!” He ran upstairs, leaving the other three to wait for him, bewildered by his rapid departure. He returned a few minutes later, seemingly empty handed, but with a glint in his eye that suggested otherwise.

“What’d you get, Potter?” asked Sirius.

“I’ll show you later,” he replied with a wink. “When we’re out of here.”

At eleven o’clock, when the castle was safely asleep, the four boys snuck out of their dormitory in their pyjamas and stopped just before the portrait entrance. James, who despite his pyjamas, still had his school cloak on, pulled out what looked like another cloak from his pocket. It wasn’t so much neatly folded as it was a bundle of material, and they couldn’t make out its features due to the darkness of the hallway. James unravelled it and held it up so they could get a better look.

“What is it?” whispered Peter.

“An invisibility cloak,” James announced, the pride in his voice abundantly clear, and the revelation prompting a murmur of excitement to ripple through the small group.

“Shut up, an actual invisibility cloak!?” cried Sirius.

“Yup.”

“How did you get an invisibility cloak?” Remus asked, as disbelieving as the others, knowing full well how rare they were.

“Inherited it. My dad gave it to me before I started school, but I guess I forgot about it.”

“You forgot?” said Sirius, barely keeping his voice at whispering level. “How do you forget about an invisibility cloak?”

“Well I haven’t needed to use it until now.”

“Speaking of which,” interrupted Remus, suddenly conscious of where they were and what they were doing. “We need to go.”

“Oh right, here—.” James threw the cloak over himself and let the others join him underneath, Remus in front, since he knew the route. It was a rather tight fit; Sirius was squeezed right up behind him, holding onto his shoulders so he wouldn’t stray away. Remus was trying not to get distracted by the cloak itself. The material was something he’d never felt before. Science must have lied to him; when water became a solid, it didn’t become ice, it became this. Material that flowed through his hand like a waterfall. He was almost mesmerised.

“Lead the way, Remus,” whispered James from the back, as Sirius nudged him forward.

“Who goes there?” called the Fat Lady when they had opened the portrait, waking her up from her sleep. They said nothing, of course, and since they were invisible, the Fat Lady had no choice but to give up her search, as Remus led the other boys in the direction of the shortcut to the kitchens. Luckily for them, the night was still and silent. They didn’t run into anyone, not even Mrs. Norris, the caretaker’s cat— a cat which was fast on its way to becoming Remus’s number one enemy when it came to sneaking out of the castle.

Remus knew that the Hogwarts kitchens were run by house elves, and he was naturally confused as to how they were supposed to get past them. Invisibility cloak or not, the house elves would surely notice food disappearing in front of their eyes. As it turned out, however, Remus didn’t have to worry. James took the cloak off the four of them once they’d entered the kitchens, and the house elves greeted them as politely as if they were Dumbledore himself.

One house elf, with very large ears, who introduced himself as Rudy, asked if they needed help with anything. James took charge, first instructing Peter to stand outside with the invisibility cloak and alert them if he heard anything. Then James started talking to the elves like they were old friends, joking with them and asking politely for food, and the elves seemed happy to oblige.

Sirius on the other hand, was quiet. He looked a bit shell-shocked, though Remus couldn’t work out why. It wasn’t as if he’d never seen a house elf before.

“What’s wrong?” Remus asked.

“Nothing,” Sirius replied, his voice quiet. “I just... I wasn’t expecting the house elves to be so nice. Our one at home isn’t.”

“Well, just because your house elf isn’t nice, doesn’t mean they all are.”

“Yeah, I guess... I guess I never really thought of house elves as being different from each other.”

“Oh.” Sirius looked down at his feet.

“That’s bad, isn’t it?” He said.

“It’s not great.” Sirius nodded and didn’t speak again. James returned just then, arms laden with food, being handed more and more as he tried to speak to the others.

“I’ve got plenty of stuff,” he confirmed. “We’ll have to each carry some so we don’t drop anything, my pockets are already full.”

“I’ll get Peter,” offered Sirius, seemingly glad to get out of there. The food was divided up amongst the four of them, and they were able to slip back underneath the cloak after thanking the house elves and saying goodbye.

The walk back to the common room was just as eventless, and it was funny giving the Fat Lady the password while invisible. They didn’t have to be invisible this time; she wasn’t much one to tell on students if she didn’t feel like it. But James and Sirius saw it as a laugh, so they wasted a few minutes simply messing with her, until they finally decided to pull the cloak off and explain themselves. She ignored them for a solid five minutes as punishment, only letting them through the door after they had all formally apologised to her.

The other boys were waiting for them when they returned, sitting around the beds in their dorm.

“Ta da!” greeted James, with a flourish. “Dinner is served.” The others cheered as quietly as they could. James laid out all the food in the middle; cakes, sandwiches, bottled drinks of all kind and plenty of chocolate. The boys wasted no time in tucking in.

Remus was sitting next to Sirius when Tobin came over.

“Jethro and Owain are talking about plants,” he explained. “Do you mind?” Remus and Sirius shook their heads.

“Don’t like plants then?” Sirius asked, as Tobin sat down next to them.

“Don’t see the point of them, really.”

“Oxygen?” Remus suggested.

“Yeah? Doesn’t mean I have to care about them.” Remus offered him a pasty, and he took it gladly.

“So what do you like?” Remus asked, biting into a liquorice wand. Tobin thought about it.

“I like music.” Remus lit up at that.

“Who do you like? D’you listen to The Beatles?”

“Of course. I live on earth. I also like Procul Harum, and... oh, definitely Pink Floyd.”

“I haven’t listened to Pink Floyd.” Tobin’s eyes widened.

“How have you not listened to Pink Floyd?!”

“My mum doesn’t have any of their records.”

“Well I’m gonna give you some, because you’re missing out.” Sirius was listening to their back and forth conversation, but was completely lost by half of what they were saying.

“Who are The Beatles?” he asked, which made Tobin look at him in plain horror.

“Who are The Beatles!?” he began, but Remus quickly interrupted him.

“They’re a muggle band,” he explained patiently. “I’ll show you some of their music if you want.” Sirius nodded enthusiastically.

“I’m barely allowed to listen to any music, let alone muggle music.”

“No music?!”

“Well, except classical music. By wizards of course. My mum forced me to learn the piano but I hated it. My brother’s better at it than I am.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind hearing you play,” said Remus, wondering if that sounded weird or not, but Sirius just shook his head.

“Nah, I’m crap. Really.” The conversation was interrupted at that point by James initiating a game of truth or dare.

“If anyone backs out, they have to eat a Bertie Botts,” were the only rules.

The game lasted as long as they could keep their eyes open, and the dares were minimum, like drinking a glass of pumpkin juice mixed in with some milk, (“I might as well just eat a jellybean,” said Jethro, who did the dare nonetheless, only managed to drink half, and had to eat a jellybean anyway, which fortunately turned out to be tomato soup flavoured, and so wasn’t that bad). The only slightly adventurous dare was when James dared Sirius to cut his own hair short. Sirius protested at first, but he also wasn’t one to back down from a dare, so reluctantly he agreed.

Peter found him a pair of scissors, and Sirius held his hair in a bunch, like a ponytail, and with one quick snip, the ponytail was in his hand. The others cheered, James patting him on the back with a grin.

Near the end of the night, when everyone was too tired and too full to move, Remus chose truth as his last turn.

“Tell us a secret,” said Sirius lazily, which momentarily took Remus aback. He really had to think about it, as well, since all of his secrets were absolutely off-limits.

“Uh... I was nearly sorted into Ravenclaw?” was all he could think of, to which the others booed.

“That’s a boring secret,” said James.

“Get better secrets,” called Jethro from the other side of the room. Remus had to laugh.

If only they knew.

On the following day, before lessons started, Remus caught up with Sirius while he was still getting dressed.

“Your hair looks good like that,” assured Remus, worried that Sirius was self-conscious over it.

“Thanks,” Sirius replied. “My parents will be happy at least. They wanted me to have it short. Said I looked too feminine.” Remus could sympathise with that in a way.

“You liked it long?” Sirius nodded. “Well, I can neaten it up for you if you like, so it doesn’t look like you obviously cut it off with scissors.”

“You can do that?”

“Yeah, I’ve been cutting my own hair for years. I know what I’m doing.” Sirius agreed, and twenty minutes before class started, Remus was standing in the bathroom, carefully neatening up Sirius’s hair and making it look like a proper haircut.

“What do you think?” Remus asked, when the last strand had been cut away. Sirius looked at himself in the mirror, turning his head this way and that.

“It’s great!” He assured. “I look smart. Neat.”

“You do!”

“I look like my brother now.”

“It’ll grow back.” If it was anything like Remus’s hair, it would be down to his shoulders within a few months.

“Yeah, luckily.” The room was quiet as Sirius continued staring at himself. Remus didn’t really know what to do, so he stared at the mirror as well, until Sirius snapped out of whatever he was thinking and turned around.

“We should get to class,” he said.

“Oh, yeah.” Remus cleared up the floor with a wave of his wand, as Sirius went to leave.

“Thanks, by the way.” Sirius stood in the doorway of the bathroom, rather awkwardly. Remus nodded in acknowledgement and watched the boy leave the room.

February came and went, with little excitement. Owain and Jethro were becoming rather close, spending time together in the greenhouses for hours on end, and it was making Tobin feel a little left out. As a result, he hung around more with Remus and the others, but all in all, he was still fairly absent. Remus soon fell into the habit of visiting Tobin in the hospital wing, bringing him books and sweets. Sirius tagged along sometimes, and Jethro and Owain were usually there too. James and Peter would follow, if only for something to do, since they hardly knew Tobin themselves, so Madam Pomfrey was soon spending half her life chasing at least two boys out of the infirmary.

“Three at a time!” she’d remind them, to little avail.

One time, it was just Remus, Tobin and Sirius. Tobin was showing them his hand held radio, proudly demonstrating its ability to play muggle music. According to Tobin he’d spent months trying to hack the charm placed around Hogwarts in order to get the muggle device to work, and somehow— with input from both Jethro and Professor Flitwick— it now worked perfectly. Sirius was enthralled by it, listening to all the different channels and fiddling with the dials.

He switched to one channel, and Eleanor Rigby began to play. Remus turned it up slightly— not enough for Madam Pomfrey to have a go at him— and made Sirius listen to it.

“You’ve really only listened to classical music your whole life?” asked Tobin, once the song had ended and Sirius had expressed his amazement, an amazement too intense to fit a reaction to Eleanor Rigby, which was a great song of course, but Sirius was acting like he’d never even heard music before; which apparently, he hadn’t.

“Yeah. My parents refuse to use a radio. Not even wizarding ones. Too similar to the muggle invention.”

“They really don’t like muggles, do they?” Tobin said, a question rhetorical enough to not warrant a response, but Sirius still looked guilty. He shrugged, not knowing how to respond. He didn’t want to say yes, but saying no would just be a lie, so he opted for saying nothing.

Tobin leant Sirius the radio: he could have it for a week (“try not to break it”). Sirius was delighted, and he soon developed a habit of listening to it between classes. He and Remus and James and Peter would be sitting around the oak tree in the grounds, and the still winter air would be broken by the crackling sounds of Sirius switching channels, or some muggle talkshow that Sirius was listening to intently, lying front-side on the grass, his ear pressed against the mesh speaker. James yelled at him a few times, but he didn’t listen. Eventually they all got used to it, and even began to enjoy it.

Sirius would ask Remus a barrage of questions about what he’d heard each day.

“What’s rugby?” “Who’s Terry Wogan?” “Why do Russia and America not like each other?”

Remus tired not to get annoyed. After all, it was good that Sirius was showing an interest, so Remus answered his incessant questions as best he could.

“It’s a muggle sport.” “He’s a radio presenter.” “I think there’s a war going on.”

And Sirius listened to every word he said. Remus couldn’t lie: it was a nice feeling.

Remus’s chest was starting to become more noticeable. Two sports bras, even three, simply weren’t enough anymore. He went to see Madam Pomfrey about it.

“I have two options for you,” she explained, the two sitting in her office near the end of the month, a day before the full moon. Remus listened eagerly to the options.

“We can either shrink your chest with magic, every month or so— the shrinking spell can’t be permanent since your chest is still growing. It’ll make your chest flat but you’d have to take at least an hour out of your day.” Remus didn’t like the sound of that. He was already skipping more and more of school; as of right now, he was skipping morning break, and would probably miss the beginning of the next lesson. Besides, he wanted something more permanent.

“What’s the other option?” He asked.

“A shirt with a binding spell on it.” At Remus’s perplexed look, she explained further. “Basically, I’d put a variation of the incarcerous spell on an undershirt of some sort— I couldn’t directly put it onto your chest, it would be too restrictive and you wouldn’t be able to take it off. A shirt will do just fine.”

“So I put it on and my chest is flat?” Madam Pomfrey nodded.

“It will compress your chest. Keep it flat under your clothes.”

“I want that then.” It seemed like a no-brainer, but Madam Pomfrey wasn’t finished.

“Hang on, there are a few catches. You can’t sleep in it, and I’d rather you didn’t do anything particularly active in it. Ideally, you shouldn’t wear it for more than eight hours a day, ten maximum.”

“Why?”

“It’s not good for your ribs or your breathing to be compressed for so long.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t want to worry you of course. As long as you’re careful it’s perfectly safe and effective.” Remus wanted to think about it, but he also wanted to leave there with a flat chest.

“Why don’t you try the shirt?” Madam Pomfrey suggested. “Just for a week or so, and see how you get on.”

“Well, could I have it now?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound too abrupt.

“If you give me a shirt, and a few minutes, then yes.” Remus was allowed some privacy from behind the curtains in one of the hospital beds. He took his sports bras off and gave one of them to Madam Pomfrey to charm.

“I’d also recommend doing stretches whenever you take it off,” she continued, handing him back the sports bra five minutes later. It didn’t feel much different when he was holding it in his hand, but he couldn’t wait to try it on. “And take it off before you transform. That’s very important. It can only be cut or ripped off with magic, so Merlin knows what will happen if you transform in it. You’ll certainly, at the very least, break your ribs.”

“I’ll be careful,” he replied. “I promise.”

Chapter Text

Remus waited until the evening to try it on, so he could undress within the safety of his four poster bed. The sports bra was a little hard to put on, but he took his time, and finally: his chest was visibly flat.

Chapter Text

Madam Pomfrey was right; it took a while for Remus to notice any effects from the potion, or at least he did notice a few, but none of them seemed to be pertaining to anything he actually wanted. He had to take more showers because he was sweating through his clothes, and spots kept breaking out all over his face and arms. He had to keep telling himself that these were all signs of testosterone running through his body instead of oestrogen, that this was all good, but frankly, he was just feeling uncomfortable.

Chapter Text

Remus didn’t respond right away. He couldn’t respond. He just allowed all the dread in his chest to fall down and settle into a growing pit in his stomach.

Chapter Text

“Maybe they just miss you,” suggested James, when Remus finally met up with him and Sirius and told them about the letter from his parents.

“No, they’re definitely going to tell you some bad news,” Sirius decided instead. “You’re not in trouble, are you?”

“I don’t think so,” replied Remus, certain he’d kept a clean slate since the last time he’d seen his parents. Unless they had somehow found out about Tobin knowing that Remus was a werewolf, but unless Tobin had explicitly told them— which really wouldn’t make any sense whichever way you looked at it— Remus had no idea how else they would have found out, so he tried not to think of that as an option. Maybe they did just miss him.

It wasn’t as if he had to wait long to find out.

The Hogwarts express was fairly empty on the journey home; none of his friends were heading back for half-term, except for Jethro, who tended to spend every holiday with his family. They sat in the same compartment, and Remus realised he had never been on his own with Jethro before. The two didn’t know much about each other, but Remus soon found out that they had a fair amount in common, and that Jethro also had a muggle mother and wizard father, although it turned out his father died in a raid before he was born. Apparently his father had been an auror.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Remus when Jethro told him, with genuine empathy in his voice. Jethro brushed it away.

“It’s alright, it’s not as if I remember him. I am named after him though. Where do you live?” he asked without warning, changing the subject so quickly that Remus took a moment to register the question. He soon became accustomed to the fact that changing the subject seemed to be a regular quirk in Jethro’s conversational skills.

“Gwynedd,” he replied amiably. “It’s in the north of Wales, where the most Welsh is spoken.”

“Is it muggle or wizarding?”

“Well I live in a house away from everyone, but the nearest town is muggle.” The majority of the journey was then spent with Remus attempting to teach Jethro a little bit of Welsh, which ended up being very funny indeed. Especially when Remus ripped a corner off a piece of parchment paper in his trunk and wrote down the full name of Llanfairpwll, the station with the longest name in the world. Jethro blinked at it.

“It means St Mary's Church in the Hollow of the White Hazel near a Rapid Whirlpool and the Church of St. Tysilio near the Red Cave,” explained Remus, struggling not to laugh halfway through at the look Jethro was giving him.

“That has to be a joke,” was all Jethro could say.

“It is. Someone named it just so it could be the longest station name in the world and hey! They succeeded in that at least.” Jethro laughed incredulously, and then launched into an entirely separate conversation about Quidditch World Cup predictions. He certainly had a knack for filling in any conversational holes, whether the filling had anything to do with the previous conversation or not, and the journey passed them by in a blur.

The platform was predictably emptier than usual, so Remus didn’t have to search long before spotting his parents, his mother waving him over. Remus did a mental check over them, but they seemed fine, if a little tired looking. His father had noticeable bags under his eyes, although since he was rather partial to staying up late night after night, this wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary. His mother’s hair looked a little greyer.

The three of them greeted each other as usual, his mother finding comments on every aspect of Remus’s appearance.

“You’ve grown so tall... your hair needs a wash... your voice has really changed... I have some cream you can use for those spots on your forehead...” and on and on it went, as if she was afraid of letting the three of them fall into silence. His father didn’t say much except to ask him how school was.

“It’s fine,” Remus replied. “I’m getting better at potions and the full moons have been alright.” Apart from that one little snag where Tobin found out that he was a werewolf, but they didn’t need to know about that.

The car ride home was very similar to being on the platform, where Hope chatted away about this and that (“You know, Tegan down the shop just had a baby, lovely little boy named Rhydian. Looks just like his father.”) and Lyall would sit in silence in the passenger seat, occasionally offering affirmations to Hope’s anecdotes when needed. Remus sat in the back, fidgeting uncomfortably. The atmosphere between his parents was definitely different. It felt like Christmas holidays again, where they had argued for days until Remus unwillingly had to butt in.

They couldn’t possibly still be angry at each other about that, could they? Remus couldn’t even remember how the original argument had started. Something about a broomstick. Of course, what he did remember was his father calling him Dahlia instead of Remus, something he wasn’t likely to forget in a hurry, but even Remus couldn’t see the point of feeling angry anymore; he just ignored it instead. He wondered why his parents didn’t do the same.

When they arrived home, and the lights were switched on in the hallway and the kitchen, it didn’t take long for Remus to notice that something wasn’t quite right. It started with the coatrack by the front door. It wasn’t hard to miss how sparse it had become. Lyall had a number of jackets and shoes and robes for different occasions. All of them were now gone, except for what Lyall was wearing. Only his and his mother’s coats remained.

Remus decided that perhaps they were in the wash.

But the house itself felt like it was missing something. You could almost always tell a magical house from a non-magical house, even if there were no real outward signs. It just had a... feeling. And the Lupin household had been no different, but Remus quickly realised what was missing. That feeling was gone. He felt like he was in the house of a muggle neighbour instead.

There was definitely something going on that his parents weren’t telling him.

“Where are dad’s coats?” asked Remus. They had only been in the house for less than ten minutes, but the awkwardness between his parents was so blatantly obvious. They talked cheerily enough to him, his mum asking him what he wanted for dinner, his dad asking more questions about school; but they hardly spoke to each other, and when they did, it was rather curt. Hope told Lyall to stop asking so many questions, Lyall responding with a terse “am I not allowed to show interest in what my son’s been up to?” Remus really hoped another argument wasn’t about to start.

They managed to make it to dinner without a bickering match opening up, where Hope served up Remus’s favourite meal of spaghetti with her special tomato sauce (it was special because the tomatoes were homegrown, and Hope was an excellent gardener). But the polite tension was starting to get on his nerves, so Remus decided to cut to the chase. The coats were his starting question, but he had more on the ready if required.

Although it didn’t seem like he needed any backups, because his parents took one look at each other, and placed their forks back down onto their plates almost simultaneously.

“Listen, Remus...” began Lyall, but Hope interrupted.

“I think I should tell him,” she said, causing Lyall to raise his eyes to the ceiling.

“For once, Hope, let me take charge. I’m the man of the house, and it’s my responsibility.”

“Man of the house my arse, you won’t break the news gently enough.” News? Well that immediately confirmed to Remus that something was wrong, and all his parents were doing was arguing. Bloody hell, this was going to be a long evening.

“I’m not incapable of—” began Lyall, but Remus wasn’t in the mood.

“For Merlin’s sake, stop it! Just tell me what’s wrong.” They both looked at him again, and Lyall managed to allow Hope to take the reigns, nodding at her to begin. She looked down at her plate.

“We were going to tell you tomorrow,” she said. “So as not to ruin your first night here, but maybe it is better we get it out the way.”

“What?” Remus put his fork down. He wasn’t hungry anymore.

“Your mother and I have been doing a lot of thinking,” continued Lyall. “A lot of arguing too. It’s no secret that our relationship has been strained over the last few months, years even... this has been a long time coming.”

“So what are you saying?” asked Remus, already having a slight inkling over what was coming, but not daring to let himself think it until it was said out loud.

“Nothing’s official yet,” said Hope. “But your father has been spending more time away from the house, and... we’re thinking of making this a permanent arrangement.”

“So you’ve split up?” Remus’s chest constricted, but weirdly, he had no idea what he was feeling. His mother replied with “No, cariad, we’re just trialling things out.” But the slight hesitation before she spoke suggested that she was trying to pretend things were better than they really were.

Remus had, naturally, never experienced a splitting up before, but he still had the feeling that his mother was feeding him the usual lines that every kid who went through a splitting up was fed: “your father and I just need some space”, “this has nothing to do with you, it’s between us”, “we’ll need some time to adjust but we’ll get through it”. By the time his parents had finished speaking, Remus had already been zoned out for a good five minutes. He just wanted to go to bed now, go to sleep, and hopefully wake up tomorrow back at Hogwarts, with this whole evening being just a bad dream.

His parents allowed him to excuse himself to his bedroom, and he immediately flopped down onto his bed. Arianrhod flew over from his desk. He’d put her there just after he got back, but had left the door of her cage open, and the window, so she could go off hunting. In this instance, however, she had chosen not to. She ruffled her feathers against Remus’s cheek and he instinctively lifted his hand to stroke her, but he was hardly aware of his surroundings by this point. He had a lot of different emotions to sift through, and some of them didn’t make  sense. Perhaps nothing had really registered yet, because he didn’t feel how he thought he was supposed to feel. In books, when a character finds out that their parents have split up, or divorced, or were “taking a break”, they were angry, and confused, screaming at their parents and breaking shit in their bedrooms. But Remus didn’t feel like doing that. He knew his parents argued all the time, he knew that they couldn’t live together, and he wasn’t angry— or at least he didn’t think he was— because... well actually, he didn’t know why he wasn’t angry. Obviously, he didn’t want his parents to split up, but what he mainly didn’t want was for his parents to argue, and he was old enough to see that if his parents didn’t live in the same house together, they couldn’t argue. There’d be no more bickering, no more living on eggshells. No more nice times together being ruined without warning because a friendly argument turned into a full blown screaming match. No more hiding in his room, unable to give into the urge of covering his ears in case he was called down to get involved.

Had he wished his parents’ relationship had got to this point? Of course not. He wished he had two parents who got along and loved each other and were always happy, like any normal kid. But the point was, they didn’t. So if separating them meant that Remus could always eat dinner without worrying about a plate being smashed halfway though in anger— something that had happened once when he was nine and his mum had immediately ushered him up to bed, where he had to listen to their shouting until he could no longer keep his eyes open— then separation it was, and Remus couldn’t help but feel mildly relieved.

Over the next week, Remus had a hard time trying to work out why his parents kept him at home when he could have easily gone back to Hogwarts for the rest of the half-term. He felt bad about it, like he was avoiding his own parents even after being at school for months on end, but it wasn’t that he was avoiding his parents, he was avoiding the situation they were in. And finally— predictably— the thoughts of how his parents never argued before Remus came out as trans, before he became a werewolf, started to filter into his psyche. Nights were spent in Remus’s bedroom, with thoughts of “what if” and bullshit statements of “it wasn’t your fault” kicking around his head. But as the sun rose the next day, a more logical part of his brain kicked in and firmly claimed that it wasn’t his fault that he was trans, or that he was a werewolf. He hadn’t asked for that, and if his parents couldn’t deal with it without splitting up then their relationship wasn’t strong enough in the first place.

This logic lasted until dusk, and the cycle would start again, and Remus would exhaust himself from crying. Relieved as he was that there was no more arguing, the initial novelty of it soon wore off, and there was no denying that the situation still sucked.

His dad was staying in the Leaky Cauldron all the way in Diagon Alley, which wasn’t hard to get to using floo powder, but Remus could tell his father hated it. The room was small and dingy, and the room service was nowhere near as efficient as Lyall would have liked. Remus was surprised his father had agreed to live there, but Lyall certainly had enough dignity not to kick his wife out onto the streets of muggle towns without an income, with a kid to look after. Of course, Hope would always be welcome to live with her parents, but according to Lyall— after Remus had asked why he didn’t just stay with his mother or sister— he and Hope didn’t want to tell the rest of the family until things had been properly worked out.

“Well, you’ll have to work things out by Christmas,” said Remus. “They’ll all be coming round then.”

“Actually, Remus, we may have to lie to them when Christmas arrives,” replied Lyall. “Do you think you can do that?”

“Yeah, I guess.” What was one more lie in Remus’s growing list of Essential Secrets He Had to Keep? His father went on to explain that the Leaky Cauldron was only temporary.

“I have a job, so it won’t be long before I’m able to move into a place of my own. In fact, I can probably do that now, but it would be a permanent move, and nothing’s permanent at the moment.” He then asked if, when the time comes, would Remus like to help him find a new place?

“Could be fun!” Lyall said with a smile.

“Okay,” replied Remus, with little enthusiasm. It didn’t sound fun at all, in his opinion. It sounded depressing, and he didn’t want any part of it, but a smile from his father was rare these days, so he said nothing.

Hope on the other hand decided that she wanted to get a job.

“I’d rather not rely on your father for everything,” she explained. “I’ve been doing that for the past fifteen years or so. It’s time for a change.” It was late, his father was back in London, and the two were sitting on the sofa, watching Ryan a Ronnie, a Welsh sketch show that had only started a year ago, but it was quickly becoming a favourite between Remus and his mum. Right now Ryan was pretending to be a jockey without a horse, and his mum was laughing softly beside him. Remus was trying to get invested, and he almost did before Our House began, but suddenly his mother had turned the TV off, thinking this was as good a time as any to have a deep conversation about jobs and futures and feelings, and other stuff that Remus didn’t care about. It annoyed him how she didn’t even ask if he wanted her to turn the TV off, she just did. If it was up to him, the TV would stay on permanently and he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. But it wasn’t up to him.

Remus assured his mother that he was fine with her getting a job, supported her even, in a disconnected, non-committal way that was becoming familiar to him whenever he talked to his parents these days. Hope said she could return to her old job of being a secretary, before she met Lyall. Or she could go back to school, train as anything she wanted.

“I could be a lawyer,” she said, half-joking.

“You could,” replied Remus, deciding to just echo back his support, while his eyes were focused on the black TV screen.

“Or a teacher,” she continued. “I’d be a good teacher. I taught you, didn’t I?”

“Yes.” She’d been wanting to be a teacher for ages, but she never got round to it, so Remus wasn’t expecting anything to come out of this; just wishful thinking, because as far as he was aware, nothing had changed except that his father was no longer in the house, and Remus was pretty sure Lyall had never discouraged Hope from getting a job before. Then again, it seemed that Remus had been much less aware about his parents’ lives than he’d originally thought, and perhaps ignoring his mother’s ideas of university and training and jobs was a bit selfish, or immature of him.

“You’d be a great teacher,” Remus said, plastering on a genuine smile. His mam smiled back.

By the end of half-term, Remus was finally able to admit that staying at home for the entire two weeks had probably been useful. He’d managed to settle into a routine with his parents, or at least begin to settle into a routine. He went up to London on the weekends to see his dad, and Lyall would take him round Diagon Alley, and they’d usually end up in Flourish & Blotts, and if Remus was lucky— which he usually was, as his father was clearly trying to compensate for everything— they’d grab an ice cream at Fortescue’s.

Remus had a feeling the routine wouldn’t last. Lyall would eventually decide that he’d paid his dues, and the two would most likely end up sitting in awkward silence; it had already happened a few times at dinner. But Remus tried to pretend otherwise, pretend that the ice cream would last and that his father would stay in this out-of-character happy, enthusiastic mood, and at least it was only for the weekends. He could go back to his normal routine at home, with his mam, and he could easily ignore the sound of muffled crying coming from her bedroom door whenever he got up at night to get a drink of water.

He never let on to her that he knew, that he’d heard. She was alright around him, and that’s all that mattered.

Chapter Text

Both his parents were there to wave him off on the train back to Hogwarts, his mum making a bit of a scene with the hugs and the kisses.

Chapter Text

There were some bittersweet goodbyes on platform nine and three quarters, particularly from Sirius. Remus saw his face fall as soon as he spotted his parents, standing as stoically and expressionless as ever; Remus felt for sure that if he were to walk over to them, a chill of cold air would settle over him. He gave Sirius an extra tight hug as an attempt at some form of consolation, with a firm promise that he would write, or at least, he’d tell James everything that was happening so James could pass it on— Remus assumed the no-writing-unless-you’re-pureblood rule still stood.

Chapter Text

Remus’s parents finally agreed to spend the day in Blackpool on a very hot Saturday morning, when all other tourist attractions in Fleetwood had finally been exhausted. At Lyall’s protests, Selene insisted that she could pay for most of the rides, and any other treats that Remus wanted to pick out (“to make the day worthwhile,” she said). Lyall was adamant that he could pay for it himself, stubborn as ever when it came to money, although nowhere near as stubborn as aunt Selene. Remus was sure that if they both paid and split the money equally, there would be no need for a row and no one would have to risk any sort of debt. But his family just didn’t work like that, and Remus knew there’d be plenty of grumbling coming from the two of them for most of the day. At least it was between siblings, though, who argued for the sake of it with no real repercussions, than between his parents, where the consequences were much more significant.

Remus had written to Peter the night before, and Peter had written back the following morning saying that they could meet up outside the Blackpool tower if Remus was able to. Remus asked his parents, excitedly waving the letter in front of their noses, and they couldn’t help but allow it, much to Remus’s delight. There was something very fun about spending time with friends outside of school; it felt personal, like an extra-curricular bonding activity, or other phrases that made Remus feel like a teacher.

Before they went to the pier though, they had the rest of Blackpool to walk through, and the beach stretched on for miles. It was packed, as was expected, and Remus wasn’t keen on the idea of spending much time on it. Certainly not in the way he used to as a child. For starters, he couldn’t swim in the sea because there was absolutely no way he was going to wear a swimming costume, or take his shirt off, or uncover himself in any way basically. He wasn’t wearing his binder at the moment, because Selene had used the shrinking spell on his chest. Remus couldn’t normally have the spell during the holidays because the only other person who could do it was his father, and he didn’t think either of them would be comfortable with that. So Madam Pomfrey had finally agreed to let him use his binder again, as long as he promised to take it off every night and not do anything stupid.

Nevertheless, right now his chest was flat. Even if he wore nothing but swimming trunks people would still assume he was a boy, but he knew he would feel much too self-conscious. He didn’t like his body being uncovered, and he usually wore multiple layers whatever the weather. Even now, in the baking sun, he had a button-up jacket on over his t-shirt— very thin material of course, he wasn’t risking heatstroke, but it covered up his arms and added an extra layer to his torso, so he ignored the mild discomfort from sweat prickling under his arms and around his neck.

So rather than let the beach make him feel bad about himself, he was content enough to walk on the pavement overlooking it, and settle on observing the sights around him. Every few minutes a green and white tram would trundle past on the thin metal tracks beside the pedestrians, faces of old people peering out at the rest of the town. Remus had never been on a tram before; it looked quite fun, even though he was fairly certain it would feel no different to riding a bus, which he’d done a number of times before with his mam.

The smells were also entertaining enough in themselves, like a guessing game of which smell belonged to which food cart. There were lots of ice cream vans dotted around on the beach itself, and one cart near the sea that was selling oysters— a weird choice, Remus thought. Other than the vague reference to the ocean in front of them, he didn’t think selling oysters on a hot beach was a good idea. He certainly wouldn’t eat them. He had a fear of food poisoning, and he couldn’t think of anything more guaranteed to cause it than oysters that were sitting in the sun on a random man’s cart. But there were plenty of other vans along the road they were walking on, with much more tempting confectionary. Remus was searching avidly for anywhere selling sticks of rock, aunt Selene having insisted there was no point in coming back until they had bought some.

“You can’t go to Blackpool without trying the signature Blackpool Rock,” she had said. “It’s like going to Ollivander’s and not buying a wand. Pointless.”

He soon found a cart, a fascinating one in that the rock was made right in front of you. Remus stood there mesmerised by the cylinder stick being pulled thinner and thinner until it was the diameter of a two pence coin, after which the man behind the counter would cut it up into individual pieces. Remus had tried rock candy before; it was sold in Llandudno, a place his family sometimes frequented during the summer. There, the letters in the stick had spelt ‘Llandudno rock’ whereas this one, naturally, spelt ‘Blackpool rock’. He’d always wondered how they managed to get the letters to go right through the stick, but unfortunately he never found out from watching the man behind the counter, because the stick had already been pre-made. It was just the casing that everyone got to see be wrapped around it.

“How do you make the letters?” asked Remus, plucking up enough courage to ask.

“We pile them on top of each other,” replied the man in a very thick Lancastrian accent. “Then roll it up. The letters start out much bigger than this.” Remus stared at his own stick, still confused by the logistics, but not wanting to annoy the man with too many questions. He was too old for that. So he paid five pence, thanked the man and wandered back to his parents, sucking on the peppermint flavoured stick as he continued to observe the various attractions, all much more interesting than anything Fleetwood had to offer.

He looked back down at the beach and saw a number of small children riding along the sand on donkeys. He forgot about the donkey rides; Selene had mentioned them, and they looked like fun, but he also observed that none of the children on the donkeys looked over the age of about nine. He’d feel like an idiot. Maybe Peter could have a ride, since he looked a good few years younger than he actually was. With his blonde mop of hair and red chubby cheeks, he wouldn’t look out of place anywhere here. He could certainly ask question after question about the letters in rock candy.

Remus on the other hand was lanky and awkward, but he recognised a much deeper issue to his awkwardness. He was exposed here and he was absolutely convinced everyone saw him as a girl. He kept looking down and trying to examine his entire body, judging every aspect of it to make sure there was nothing that would make people suspect. Even if he was sure no one knew, he still felt scrutinised. He was sure Peter could get away with asking lots of question, he was sure any other boy of twelve could get away with it, no matter how tall or lanky they were. Boys were boys, and boys asked questions, but girls... girls weren’t supposed to ask too many questions, and annoy people with their incessant talking. They had to be quiet and polite. Remus wasn’t stupid. He knew all about sexism, not only from conversations he’d had with his mother, and his aunt, but also from the simple fact of growing up in a female body. Even if he’d identified as a boy early on in his life, it still took a lot of his family members to get used to that fact, and therefore he was no stranger to being told things like “girls don’t sit like that” or “girls don’t talk like that”.

By feeling like he was being scrutinised, by feeling like everyone was judging him not as a boy, but as a girl, he was convinced that people would guess he was trans just by looking at him and he’d end up getting harassed for it, even though he knew he was being completely paranoid; for starters, he was sure hardly any of these people even knew what transgender meant, let alone try and work out whether or not he was transgender. Regardless , he almost felt like trying to convince people that he was just a tomboy, for his own safety, and he hated that feeling. And he hated that it was ruining his time in what was supposed to be the most desirable holiday destination in the whole of Britain. He avoided talking to anyone else after that.

“We’re getting nearer to the pleasure beach,” said Selene, nudging Remus’s shoulder and pointing ahead. It wasn’t hard to miss, not least of all from the growing levels of noise; high-pitched shouting and screaming and laughing filled the air around them, mingled in with bouncy circus music and the roar of machinery from all the rides. It was lucky they weren’t near a full moon, otherwise Remus would be sure his eardrums would burst.

Hope was in charge of the money, since it was muggle and therefore she was the only adult there who understood it properly. After doing the maths, she allowed Remus to go on around five rides— or three rides if he wanted to buy stuff. Remus was much more focused on buying stuff, for himself and for his friends, so three rides suited him fine (although he decided to try and bag an extra one later by sucking up enough to aunt Selene). The swing chairs looked the most fun, the long spider like contraption, coloured yellow and red went up and down as well as round and round, and actually looked pretty terrifying. Remus didn’t think it would be much different to flying around on a broomstick— albeit not having that much experience in that area— but unlike on a broom he wouldn’t have to balance himself and keep himself upright, he just had to sit back and enjoy the feel of it.

Selene accompanied him on it, while his parents hung back. Lyall saw all the rides as a waste of time (“cheap muggle stuff, wizards can do better than this just by waving their wands”), and Hope claimed she was much too old to be going on rides like that, but Remus just assumed she was scared; his mother was barely older than his aunt.

The ride was exactly as he imagined, but no less fun. It really was like riding a self-driving broomstick, but with a proper seat that didn’t make your back hurt after a while. Plus, he got to see the entire park from this height, the entire stretch of beach in fact. If anything, it was a good opportunity to choose the next ride he wanted to go on without weaving his way through a suffocating amount of people (Incidentally, the line to the ride had been depressingly long, but now he was up here, he considered the wait to be worthwhile). From where he was sitting, he managed to spot a ghost-train sort of ride, although it wasn’t a scary ride at all. It had an Alice in Wonderland theme, which he definitely wanted to try next for the sole purpose of telling Sirius all about it.

Although, he started to have second thoughts about it as he drew nearer. The swing chair ride had ended, him and Selene laughing breathlessly over it and comparing the experience to real flying, receiving a terse shush from Lyall, warning them not to talk so loud. A minor risk in Remus’s opinion judging by how noisy the atmosphere around them was; they could shout at the top of their lungs and it would still get lost into the wind, completely ignored by the self-centred muggles around them.

Remus told his parents about the Alice ride and pointed in the direction he’d seen it from up on the swing chairs. As he neared it, he observed many more details than had been visible from high up in the air. Plastic characters were dotted around, sitting on benches or standing on equally plastic scenery. The Mad Hatter and the playing card guards were there, lording over the park and its visitors. The cart itself, that would carry people into the ride, was shaped like the Cheshire Cat, purple and grinning. Another plastic Mad Hatter sat inside it, an arm permanently around anyone who sat next to him.

Up close, it looked a little small. A little young. Once again Remus felt that poison of self-consciousness seep into him as he stared at the wild eyes of the cat train. The people in the queue were of every age, male and female, and not all the adults in the queue were accompanied by children. He knew he was wrong to think it, but he couldn’t help but be convinced that the ride was only for little girls. Since he didn’t want anyone to think he was either little or a girl, he didn’t want to go on the ride at all. He admitted this to Selene, and she put an arm round him.

“Listen, mate,” she began. “I could tell you that you’re an idiot, and the ride’s for everyone, but actually, think of it this way: no one gives a shit. No one’s looking at you. They’re muggles, they only care about themselves. You could stand up on the ride and yell out the entire Alice in Wonderland book, all the while wearing a great big purple hat like that bloke in the train,”— she pointed to the Mad Hatter and Remus couldn’t help but giggle at the thought. “And I guarantee these people probably won’t even remember by the time they get off the ride and go looking for chips. Because that’s all they want. Chips. See what I’m saying?”

“That you want chips?” She lightly swatted the back of his head.

“I’m saying, go on the ride. You’ll never meet these people again and they’ll never meet you. Just have some fun, otherwise there’s no point coming here.” Remus thought about it for a moment, and eventually he agreed. But only if Selene came with him. His mother decided to join them too, and when they were standing together in the queue, crowded as ever, he tried to stand near a family with two young kids, as if he was with them, just in case Selene was wrong and anyone was watching him. He was just the older brother, people would think, and the ride was really for the kids.

The ride itself only lasted for around five minutes, but it was actually surprisingly good. The cart was quite slow, as it winded around the outside before entering through the doors to the inside, but Remus was able to enjoy the sights and the sounds, and the smell of candy floss and toffee apples lingering in the air around the entrance. The music had a rather electronic feel about it, with a girl’s voice— which must have been Alice— mixed in, talking about following the white rabbit.

It was dark inside, really dark, except for the purple and green lights, flashing around the tunnel and illuminating the scenes. It was unsettling to say the least, scenery changing every few metres; one minute a giant Alice was playing croquet (you couldn’t see the top half of her), her arms swinging mechanically; the next you were in a garden of large, smiling flowers and a wall painted with playing cards and what looked like a clown face. The music felt almost warped, even though Remus was sure it wasn’t, and the pitch black surroundings of the cart made the whole ride vaguely terrifying. Not in so much a bad way, Remus noted. As they re-emerged into the blinding sunlight, he realised that he had thoroughly enjoyed the brief journey through Wonderland, especially the part near the beginning where the cart went through a slowly-moving tunnel, as if going down the rabbit hole. Magic wise, it wasn’t anything too unfamiliar but it was definitely something to write to Sirius about. Another bonus was that Remus hadn’t once worried about people looking at him. He was too distracted by everything else around him and besides, it was way too dark. No one could have seen him even if they wanted to.

Remus chatted animatedly about the ride to Lyall who, despite his reluctance for all muggle rides, still listened intently, if only to humour his son. Remus asked if they could go on it again, but next time with Peter. It was getting on two o’clock, and he was supposed to meet Peter outside the tower at two thirty. The walk was only ten minutes, but they decided to set off anyway, thinking the walk would probably be longer due to all the distractions, a decision which turned out to be wise indeed: Remus spent ten minutes at another cart selling sticks of rock just so he could buy extra for his friends, ensuring first of all that the rock would last for another month (although he was sure he’d be able to send it by owl to all of his friends, except for Sirius’s of course. He’d give the rock to Sirius when they returned to school). He also found a shop selling postcards and decided to buy a few to send to James and Lily, and maybe a blank one to give to Sirius, with a picture of the Central Pier on it— he could tape the stick of rock to the back.

They arrived at the tower around five minutes before two thirty, but Peter was already there, waving enthusiastically when he spotted Remus. Remus ran over to him, waving back.

“I bought postcards!” He yelled in greeting, showing them off. Peter in return held out a bag of toffees.

“I bought muggle sweets.” He offered some to Remus, who gladly took them. “They’re not as good as wizard sweets, but they’re nice to chew on.” He then drew attention to an old man standing next to him, wearing a suit and hat.

“This is my great uncle Arnie,” explained Peter, and then in a whisper “he’s a muggle.”

“Isn’t he hot in that suit?” Remus whispered back so Arnie couldn’t hear, although he couldn’t imagine the man was focusing on anything other than not passing out from heatstroke.

“Dunno. He always wears a suit, whatever the weather.” It was a nice suit though, brown with white pinstripes. He looked a bit like a Frank Sinatra type, but much shorter and with more facial hair. Remus waved to him, and Arnie tipped his hat, just as Remus’s own family joined the small group.

“This is my mam, dad and my aunt Selene.” Five minutes was spent on the greetings, then Remus and Peter left the adults to talk about whatever adults talked about and went their own separate way, making a beeline towards the tower.

It was high, really high, and it was very reminiscent of the Eiffel Tower, which Remus had only seen in books, but he didn’t imagine it could be any taller than this.

“There’s a circus inside,” said Peter, his voice slightly strained from how far back his head was. “And an aquarium. And a ballroom.”

“How much are they?” asked Remus, voice equally as strained.

“Dunno.” Peter finally brought his head down. “I went to the menagerie last year but that closed down. Haven’t been to the others.”

“What was the menagerie like?”

“It was alright. It was just animals like what muggles know. None of the magical stuff, like unicorns or anything.” Selene popped up behind them.

“Heard there’s a circus here,” she said. “You boys interested?” They both lit up excitedly, although Remus had slight reservations.

“It’s not expensive, is it?” He knew his aunt had a habit of spending way beyond her means for the sake of others; the broomstick fiasco had proved just that, so Remus had no choice but to be cautious.

“Course it’s not, everyone goes, don’t they? And no one here is rich or they’d all be in Spain.” Her confirmation was enough, and the boys said no more. They wanted to see the circus, so Selene bought tickets for everyone, much to Lyall’s annoyance. He had to stop her from buying snacks as well, especially since they already had enough. Peter had his muggle sweets and Remus had his stick of rock which was nowhere near finished, and probably wouldn’t be for another day or two. Besides, snacks were quickly forgotten once the show started; the stick of rock lay dangling half in and half out of Remus’s mouth as his eyes were glued to the animals being paraded around the room, the music playing loudly and the ringmaster shouting with as much enthusiasm as one man can muster.

Peter’s favourite part, judging by the laughter beside Remus, was when the clown came out and did the usual slapstick comedy, although he was very good. It wasn’t just buckets of water thrown over him, it was actual comedy, with impressions and songs thrown into the act. Remus found himself laughing along as well, despite being sure that he had outgrown clowns years ago. The clown was called Charlie Cairoli, and according to Peter he was the town favourite. Remus could see why.

The sun was creeping ever closer to the horizon when they re-emerged from the tower. Peter wanted to go to the aquarium, but Arnie said it was getting late and they had to be home by six. Remus’s parents shared similar sentiments, but as they walked back to the beachfront, a tram trundled past, and Remus asked if they could head back on the tram instead of walking. It wasn’t expensive, and everyone was pretty tired after the hectic day out, so there was little reluctance from anyone. Remus and Peter sat next to each other at the back, leaning out the window and pointing out anything that was even remotely interesting, anything that could prompt even a semblance of a conversation. They were high on sugar, and excitement, so pointing at a cyclist, or a cart owner, or a dropped ice cream on the pavement was enough to cause a much-too-loud conversation that was almost incomprehensible from all the bursts of laughter coming from the two of them. The rest of the tram was probably, and righteously, pissed off at them, but even warnings and shirt pulling from disapproving family members didn’t do much to damper their spirits.

They said goodbye near the end of the beach, which was quite far down the line, so the crowd was finally thinning out by the time they got there, although it was still barely dark. Remus told Peter he’d be heading home in a week, but he’d definitely write, and they’d see each other at school when September came around. Peter said he couldn’t wait, and the two boys were dragged away in opposite directions, waving to each other until their arms were tired. Remus spent the twenty minute journey back home chatting away about things his parents and his aunt already knew about, like the circus, and the fairground, but they listened anyway, because no doubt they were glad that Remus finally seemed like he was genuinely happy.

All thoughts of self-consciousness had evaporated hours ago, and all Remus was focused on was sending souvenirs and letters to his friends. For once, he could finally act like a kid.

Remus was allowed to spend another night at his aunt’s place, an agreement they’d reached after he’d begged them to let him stay there instead of the manky old motel. They all stayed down in the pub until ten o’clock, drinking— in Remus’s case, juice—until Selene insisted that Hope and Lyall went back to their motel, and Remus could go to bed. He protested at that, since he hadn’t written any of his letters yet, but she winked at him, while giving a vague answer on why there was no need for them to be here after ten. Remus was starting to suspect that the bar changed around this time in a way that Selene didn’t want the family to know about.

Although this time, she actually let Remus stay downstairs, once his parents were safely out the door, on the condition that he stay in the corner and write his letters.

“Why don’t I just go upstairs then?” He asked. She shrugged.

“I was thinking I’d quite like you to observe the pub after ten. It might interest you.” She didn’t say much more than that, and as ten rolled around, Remus didn’t really know what he was supposed to be observing, except for customers who had similar styles as the people he’d seen before, like Rosie and Rolanda. In fact, Rosie was there again, chatting to Selene as usual, but there were some new faces too. Remus enjoyed the people watching, although he was still far too engrossed in his letter writing to really pay much attention.

He wrote as much detail as he possibly could in his letter to Sirius, about the Alice in Wonderland ride, meeting Peter, going to the circus and watching Charlie Cairoli. The letter eventually turned into a two page long account of his entire day, double sided as well, and he was so invested in what he was writing that he didn’t notice the pub becoming busier and louder until he looked up twenty minutes later and was surprised at all the new people hanging around.

It still seemed like a normal pub, but he noticed some key differences that he supposed Selene must have been talking about. For one, this was supposed to be a wizarding bar, but a lot of these people were wearing muggle clothes, and not just for disguise like wizards who went out into the muggle world but didn’t really know how to put an outfit together; these people knew what they were wearing, and had styled it accordingly. There were other punks hanging around, in jackets and black boots, as well as people in flare-legged slacks and t-shirts that were tied at the waist to form a sort of crop top. Remus didn’t know what they were called, but what was interesting was a man near the bar was wearing one too, and Remus thought those sort of shirts were only for girls.

Remus went back to his letters, putting Sirius’s letter in the same envelope as James’s one, so James could send it on to him. He kept one eye on the pub this time, though, and very soon something else caught his attention. On the other side to where he was, in the corner, two girls were sitting very closely together, sort of laughing and smiling but their faces were practically touching. Remus knew it was rude to stare, but he couldn’t help himself, and he certainly wasn’t able to look away when the two girls started kissing each other, a little drunkenly, but passionately nonetheless. Remus hadn’t been expecting that at all, and he started to take a closer look at his surroundings, of the guys who were buying each other drinks, or his aunt getting as close to Rosie as those other two girls were.

He think he knew what Selene had been talking about now, about how the bar changed after ten, and how these people were different because they were all like Ezra, the guy he’d met last night. He had a lot of questions flooding his mind all of a sudden, mainly what his aunt was doing running a bar like this, but also why she had wanted him to observe it.

He sat there, watching, a little confused but he certainly didn’t feel anything against these people. He’d be a bit hypocritical if he did, although he didn’t know how different being transgender was to being a homosexual, since it wasn’t something he’d thought about before, or had even thought to compare. But he knew there were people who didn’t like these people, just like there were people who wouldn’t like him. Maybe that’s why his aunt had wanted him to be here, to make him feel less alone.

Aunt Selene came over at that point, shaking him out of his reverie.

“You getting tired yet? You can go up to bed whenever you want.”

“No, I’m okay,” he replied, quietly enough for her to sit down opposite him and ask if he was alright.

“Yeah, I’m fine, but...” she waited for him to continue his sentence, but didn’t press. Truth be told, he didn’t really know what to ask. He knew what he wanted to ask, but didn’t know if it was too personal or not. He decided to brave it, and if she refused to answer, then it wasn’t a big deal.

“You and Rosie,” he began. “Are you two really just friends?” Selene looked at him steadily, seemingly working out whether to answer or not.

“What do you think we are?” she asked instead, which made Remus look down at the table, at the markings of the wood on the surface, tracing the patterns with his finger. If his hunch was wrong then saying it out loud might be awkward, but could he really be blamed for thinking what he thought? Judging on what he’d seen so far, he didn’t think so.

“I think you two are... more than friends.” He didn’t look at her as he said it, but he sensed her leaning back in her seat. She didn’t reply for a moment.

“Yeah. We are,” she eventually said. Remus finally raised his head, staring at her a little wide-eyed.

“Really?”

“Yeah, but... don’t tell our family. I don’t know how they’d react.” Remus had never seen her look shy before, she usually oozed with confidence that filled up an entire room, but right now she was almost sheepish.

“But they’re okay with me,” he reassured. “If they’re okay with me I don’t see why they wouldn’t be with you.”

“I know, I know but... I don’t know. Your mum will be fine, but my brother and my mum might be different. My mum especially. She’s desperate for me to find a husband and have a kid and all that bullshit. She wouldn’t be very happy to find out I’ve been a lesbian this entire time.”

“But how can you be with Rosie if no one knows?”

“Our relationship works. She stays over sometimes, I stay over sometimes. Our friends know we’re together, and so do you now. I think that’s enough. At least at the moment.” Remus didn’t think so, and it made him sad. He didn’t think they should have to hide their relationship, especially since they looked so happy together, which was much more than could be said for his parents, and they never had to hide their relationship. Except for when it had broken down. It was a weird set up, why one couple had to hide that they were happy and another had to hide that they weren’t. Remus didn’t think he’d ever understand it.

“So this place,” he continued, “is for people like you?”

“Yeah. After ten o’clock at least. It’s a good refuge, a hiding place if you will where everyone can just be whoever they want. It can get pretty rowdy sometimes.”

“Why’s everyone wearing muggle clothes?” She looked around at the room as if she hadn’t noticed.

“Rebellion I guess. We’re already outcasts to society, so we embrace it. Fuck the ministry and all that anarchist stuff.”

“But you’re outcasts in muggle society too, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, which is why we pitch the two together, use them against each other. We wear muggle clothes to piss off the wizards, and we use our magic to piss off the muggles. You could say it’s punk.” Remus sat there quietly, thinking about her words and linking them to the people around him. Their clothes, and their purpose and their lives. To his life.

He went upstairs about an hour later, too tired to carry on writing, and his aunt had to return to the bar again. Back in Selene’s flat, he put on the Pink Floyd record again, quietly this time, for ambience. He used both his owl and Selene’s owl to send off his letters to his friends, some of the envelopes containing postcards, and Selene’s owl— the stronger of the two— being tasked with carrying the relatively heavy sticks of rock. Remus absentmindedly continued chewing on his own one, which was now halfway finished. The letters were still intact.

Twenty minutes later, the record ended, and Remus hopped into the makeshift sofa bed in the living room. He didn’t stay awake for too long, but the conversation he’d had with Selene played over and over in his mind. Looking back on it, he’d consider that talk in the bar as quite a significant turning point in his outlook on life.

Chapter Text

Selene’s bar and records and the pavilion on the hill were short lived, as Remus and his parents had to return to Wales in time for the full moon, and since they didn’t want to travel anymore, nor did they think it was necessary, they decided on the last few weeks being spent at home in Wales.

Their usual schedule was resumed, and Lyall returned to London after a few days, with Remus visiting on weekends. Remus had been under the rather naive impression that perhaps the trip to Blackpool would solve all his parents’ problems. They hadn’t argued much, granted they hadn’t really talked much in general, but they had been alone together a number of times which hadn’t appeared to have ended in disaster. But it seemed that the different setting had only been a temporary fix, and once they were back home, their relationship settled into its usual broken state. Tensions ran thin, and most interactions between Hope and Lyall were just a series of passive aggressive comments, until they decided to ignore each other instead of start an argument. It was a development at least, but hardly a better one. Especially when the ignoring turned into the silent treatment which Remus hated. He hated the pettiness and the stubbornness, despite being guilty of using it himself sometimes. But he was a child; he was allowed to. His parents were adults, and they should be acting like it.

Remus spent most of his time in his room while his father was around, reading letters from his friends. James must have succeeded in sending on Remus’s letter to Sirius, because he got a reply back from Sirius a few days after leaving Blackpool. Sirius’s letter wasn’t as long as his, but in his defence, he didn’t have much to say. His family wasn’t doing anything special, and all he had to talk about was the constant parade of pureblood wizards in and out of his home, having meetings that Sirius tried desperately to avoid, but his parents wouldn’t allow it, and Sirius was subjected to sit there for hours listening to blood purist discussions.

“I tried to convince my parents not to let Reg join in as well, but they let him now he’s eleven,” Sirius wrote, going on about how Regulus was nowhere near as reluctant as he was, thinking he was all grown up and special now. Remus didn’t like the sound of that at all, nor did he like the thought of Sirius spending two months listening to pureblood bullshit that Remus had tried so hard to keep him away from. Sirius had said time and again now how much he was against all that stuff, but Remus had never actually heard him say that he rejected his family as a whole, which Remus supposed was quite a lot to ask from a kid who hadn’t known anything else, but still... what if all these meetings would start to change Sirius’s views, no matter how much he tried to ignore them? It was sort of impossible to sit through all that without being even slightly convinced, especially if it was coming from your own family.

Remus wanted to write to him, all the time, and send him books and other things to keep him preoccupied, to forget about everything his family were saying. But he was risking a lot just with the one letter. Was a detailed description of a Lewis Carol inspired fairground ride enough to keep Sirius away from his family? And what about his brother, who’d be arriving at Hogwarts in a few weeks, a mini-version of his parents. A new heir to the Black family who apparently had no intention of being anything other than the golden boy. When Sirius first arrived at Hogwarts, even he had questionable views regarding intermarriage between purebloods and non-purebloods. So Merlin knows what his brother was going to be like. Remus knew that Sirius wanted Regulus to be in Gryffindor, so he could keep him away from the blood purist poison that spread through the Slytherin house like wildfire, and where all the future death eaters seemed to reside. And while Remus agreed that adding fuel to the fire— or in this case, adding Slytherin to the pureblood— was almost guaranteed to check off another follower on You-Know-Who’s list, a much more selfish part of him didn’t want someone like Regulus anywhere near him, who could potentially be a danger to his entire livelihood if he knew who Remus really was. Sirius wanted to protect his brother, but Remus felt that it may have already been too late, and if that were the case, the only solution left was to stay as far away from him as possible. It was only a question of whether Sirius would be strong enough to do so.

The last weekend before September First found Remus sitting in an armchair which was much too big for him, in his father’s dusty room at the Leaky Cauldron, frantically scribbling the last of his summer homework. His parents’ new set up wasn’t as bad as he had been expecting. Of course, he had experienced a little of it the last time he’d visited during half-term, but things were rather up in the air then and no one had really settled into any sort of routine. But now a proper routine was forming, and Remus found himself finally enjoying the company of both his parents.

At home in Wales, he watched TV with his mother, helped her cook and bake, and even sometimes assisted her in gardening, although he didn’t think gardening would ever be much of a potential career for him. He liked caring for small, singular plants; a clipping shoved into a pot and placed on the windowsill for example. He’d happily water it, and keep it in the sun, and talk to it sometimes if he was alone. But a whole garden was tedious, and boring. With bushes needing to be sheared and roses needing to pruned and Remus getting annoying little cuts all over his fingers. He didn’t know why his mother enjoyed it so much, wearing her huge-rimmed straw hat and gardening gloves. But they chatted and played games, so it wasn’t all bad. And Remus was relieved that any resentment he had towards her was finally starting to dissipate now that his father was no longer around to irritate her and hassle her.

In fact Remus finally felt comfortable enough to admit to his mother that he was getting his period, and surprisingly— but certainly not unwelcomely— she didn’t make as much of a big deal over it as he was expecting. She hugged him, said that she would talk to Madam Pomfrey about it, and left him well alone, allowing him to deal with it in his own time, because the last thing he wanted was someone to talk about it, or try and help and point it out or just do anything to remind him that his period even existed. Because other than the blood, and the pain in his abdomen and back, he tried as hard as he could to simply ignore it. Although, that was far easier said than done. He just hoped when his mother talked to Madam Pomfrey they would decide on allowing him to take a higher dose of Morfosis when he returned to school.

As for his father, their relationship was somewhat mending. Lyall didn’t seem as stressed anymore, with his only worry being to find a more permanent accommodation, now that his parents were beginning to come to the conclusion that living apart was much more beneficial for everyone involved. And an unstressed Lyall was a man who was actually alright to be around, although was actually far more irresponsible than Remus realised his father to be. For starters, he usually let Remus run wild in Diagon Alley, handing him a grand sum of ten galleons and sending him off into the cobbled streets below, giving him nothing else but a curfew of five pm. Remus didn’t know if he should’ve felt vaguely abandoned or not, but the pre-teen side of his brain kicked in and the pull of no supervision among the row of magical shops was too tempting to ponder. Remus prided himself on being quite mature for his age, but weekends with his father were unravelling this achievement before his very eyes. Because what adult spent all his money in one sweet shop and stuffed himself with liquorice wands and chocolate frogs until he was curled up in bed with a stomach ache? He decided to spend the next weekend in Flourish & Blotts, and didn’t touch another chocolate frog for weeks. Not only that but he decided to save up the money his father gave him this time and plucked up the courage to ask him to exchange it for muggle money.

Lyall agreed, although he claimed it was a waste, thinking there was nothing in the muggle world that would be anymore useful than something from the wizarding world, but Remus wasn’t thinking practicality. He wanted to buy something for Sirius, ever since he’d heard it in Selene’s flat. He didn’t want to ask for Selene’s copy, because he’d have to give it back eventually, and he wanted this for permanence. He hadn’t decided whether he was going to keep it for himself or give it to Sirius, but he didn’t think the decision was important, as long as they could both listen to it.

So a few days before Semptember 1st, Remus asked his father to take him into London, to the first record shop they came across, so he could buy Atom Heart Mother Suite on vinyl.

Remus didn’t have to worry about playing it when he got to Hogwarts, because record players weren’t technically considered exclusively muggle technology, since even wizards hadn’t been able to resist their allure, using them frequently for their own magical records. There was even a communal player in the Gryffindor common room that some older student had placed there way before Remus had even arrived, and he knew he’d be able to use it.

Of course, there was a chance a wizarding record player wouldn’t play a muggle record, but Remus could figure that out. The way Tobin had done in order to get his radio to work.

He packed the record carefully in his trunk, along with his books and clothes. He went through his clothes the night before, and while he had to wear his uniform most of the time, there were times when he was permitted to wear his normal clothes, outside of school hours. His clothes were a mix of wizarding and muggle, but he always found muggle clothes more comfortable, so he had more shirts and jeans than he did robes. But he looked through all the stuff he had, the normal stuff— checkered shirts, hoodies, blue jeans. It was boring, he suddenly thought. Nothing like the stuff Rosie and her friends had worn, the stuff that his aunt wore. He wanted to dress like Rolanda and Lydia, a desire that had crept up on him ever since he’d met them. And they didn’t wear stuff like dull shirts and trousers. They wore leather jackets and ripped jeans and had piercings. Obviously, Remus wasn’t about to pierce his ears, mainly because he didn’t have anything to do it with.

But he rummaged around in his wardrobe for anything that could resemble the punk stuff his aunt’s friends wore. He had a black jacket, but it wasn’t leather, and actually, the closer he looked at it, he realised it wasn’t even black. Just a dark blue. Maybe he could add badges and stuff to it. Rosie’s jacket had badges, although he hadn’t been able to read them, but he thought they looked cool. So he searched around his room, looking for stuff to pin to his clothes.

After an extensive search around his room he found a Quidditch badge he’d bought from the last match he went to with his dad. The badge was rather small, but it had one of the Welsh players, Bryn Davis, flying across it, zooming into frame every few seconds. A Dennis the Menace and Gnasher badge had fallen behind the back of his bed. He’d got it from one of his Beano comics, along with a Minnie the Minx badge which he’d unfortunately lost. But he did manage to find a Danger Mouse badge in his bedside drawer.

Three badges, two of which were children’s cartoons, weren’t a great haul, but it still added to his jacket, and from a distance, if you squinted, he looked a little punk. Although, on closer look, he looked more like a comic-book geek. He tilted his head at his mirror reflection, pondering. He looked at the knees of his jeans, and got an idea. As long as he hid them immediately from his mother, what was the worse that could happen?

Ripping jeans was harder than it looked, at least to make them look like he hadn’t deliberately ripped them, which he had. So scissors were out of the question. He just had to try and use his arms, feeding his hands inside the trouser leg so he only had to pull on one thin layer of material until he heard a ripping sound. He looked down, and admired his handiwork. With a few smaller rips here and there, he managed to make it look alright. He didn’t want it too ripped, or he’d just look like a weirdo with wrecked clothes. He did the same on the other leg, and tried them on.

Not bad. He was nowhere near the level of Rosie, but it was a start. He’d learn. Most likely from his aunt. In fact, if he wrote to her now she might be able to help him, maybe send a proper badge over.

Incidentally, Selene’s letter arrived a day before he left for the station, accompanied with a small package. Her letter was quite short, telling him not to go too far and end up getting in trouble like her friend Lydia, but all in all she seemed proud she’d ended up with a mini version of her and her friends, and her package did indeed contain some proper pins of rock bands, like Led Zeppelin and the Rolling Stones, and to his surprise, his aunt had used another undetectable extension charm on her package and Remus pulled out albums from both of these bands— “Don’t wear pins of bands you don’t know.” Selene had explained. “If people ask and you can’t give them an answer, you look like an idiot.” She’d also sent a chain necklace to put around his neck. The accessories were small, but they made a difference. Remus thought he looked cool, and he spent the last night at home listening to the records on his mam’s record player.

September 1st brought with it its own excitement, and the reunion between Remus and his classmates at the platform was worth the wait. James was chatting frenetically, grinning the entire time as his words got jumbled up into new sentences, and being rivalled by Peter who was talking just as fast and loud. Remus and Sirius tried to keep up, but all they could really make out was James visiting some Scottish castle, and Peter talking about Blackpool and dragging a bewildered Remus into the conversation.

Sirius hugged Remus pretty tightly when they first caught sight of each other, and Remus put it down to Sirius having had no interaction with his friends for a good two months. He seemed slightly off, not as bright or energetic as Remus had been expecting. He listened to the others go on about their summers, and he smiled and nodded at all the right cues, but he sort of just stood there, lost in thought. And once they boarded the train, he didn’t sit with them like Remus assumed he would. He said he was going to sit with his brother instead, who had already found a carriage on his own; Remus had yet to even meet him.

Ordinarily, Remus wouldn’t question Sirius going to sit with his brother, although he would question why Sirius didn’t just bring his brother along so they could all sit together. But Remus was a little unnerved by Sirius’s secrecy, and him choosing to sit with his brother instead of his friends had some potentially unsavoury connotations. But Remus tried to put it out of his mind as the train left the station, focusing on the stream of classmates wandering in and out of the carriage he, James and Peter were sitting in. Lily and Tobin and Jethro and Owain all made an appearance during the journey, talking about their own stories and sharing snacks they’d bought from the trolley. Not to mention the ripple of nervous excitement over moving up into second year, wild theories being thrown around over what being older would now entail, and what the curriculum would be like. James was mostly focused on finally being allowed to try out for the Quidditch team.

The carriage was loud, and happy and everyone was involved in everyone’s conversations. But Sirius’s absence, at least to Remus, stuck out like a sore thumb. And he just couldn’t shake the growing fear he felt, thoughts of pureblood meetings that Sirius had to sit through, being locked up in a house with his parents for two months, and now that Sirius had finally escaped that environment, he was choosing to spend his time with someone from it, instead of his friends. Keeping the two separate.

Remus didn’t know if he should be worried or not.

The Sorting Ceremony was much more enjoyable from the perspective of the table. The second years could smugly sit and observe the new first years walk fearfully up to the Sorting Hat, entirely bewildered by the song (which Remus noticed had changed this year— he supposed the Sorting Hat must write a new song every year. He had to do something for all those months stuck up in Dumbledore’s office, or stuck up the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw thought Remus with a slight smile).

Sirius was sitting with them again, acting as cheerfully as ever, although Remus noticed his continuous glances in the direction of his brother, who was one of the first to be sorted.

“Black, Regulus!”

Regulus stepped up to the Sorting Hat, pale and calm. He looked almost identical to his brother, same dark hair, same brown eyes, although his face didn’t seem to have the same light as Sirius had. He was all angles and sallow cheeks, his uniform neat, his hair parted at the sides. While Sirius was always missing some article of clothing, tie undone and his long hair falling all over the place. In fact, the longer Remus looked, the more he realised that the two brothers didn’t look like each other at all.

Regulus sat there for quite a while, almost as long as Peter had the year before. Sirius was getting tenser by the second. He had been idly fiddling with a fork, but now his hand was wrapped around it in a fist, his knuckles turning white as the minutes ticked by.

Eventually, to the relief of the fork, the Sorting Hat opened the seam of its mouth and shouted: “SLYTHERIN!”

The Slytherin table burst into applause, but Remus, as well Sirius’s other friends, immediately looked to Sirius. The boy’s face had fallen, and his eyes followed his little brother to the Slytherin table. He didn’t look away for a while; by the time he did another three students had already been sorted. He turned back to his empty plate and didn’t speak for the rest of the night, even when the feast appeared in a flourish of glory. He didn’t sing along to the school song either. Remus, James and Peter decided against singing as well, silently supporting their friend.

When the feast had ended and the second years were led to their new dormitory in the Gryffindor tower, Sirius went straight to bed as soon as he arrived. Or at least, he hid himself behind his four poster curtains— Remus was pretty certain he wasn’t sleeping at all. He didn’t know what he could be thinking, and a small, selfish side of Remus didn’t see why Sirius was sulking in the first place. Why did Sirius want anything to do with his family by this point? If Remus had a family like that, he’d be glad to say good riddance. Then again, Remus had no experience with what it was like to have a sibling, so perhaps it wasn’t as easy as just saying good riddance. But if Regulus turned out to be a complete write off, a carbon copy of his parents, then Remus really hoped he wasn’t about to lose Sirius to a futile attempt at dragging Regulus away from damnation. And letting himself get ripped to pieces in the process.

Chapter Text

“It’s punk. You know, rebellion and anarchy and stuff.” Remus let James peer at his badges on the jacket he was wearing, explaining to him and Sirius who Led Zeppelin was. It was the end of the school day, which had posed little difference to last year, except for slightly more advanced topics and practices. It wasn’t until third year that they’d have more curriculum options, like Astronomy and Care of Magical Creatures. Everyone was already looking forward to third year, despite having only just entered second, but there was a subtle air of impatience in every lesson as students desperately worked towards a curriculum they deemed more interesting and more useful. Turning birds into water goblets was neither interesting nor useful in anyone’s opinion.

After they’d returned to their dorm room and Remus was allowed to take off his uniform, he quickly changed into his “punk” get-up, with a part of him very much hoping that his friends would ask about his ripped jeans and the band logos he was displaying. Luckily for his ego, they did, and he held his head up high as he explained to them about this new movement that was sweeping the nation. Although, by his attitude, he almost gave off the impression that he was solely responsible for punk even existing in the first place, as if it was him that discovered the movement. In the eyes of his pureblood friends, he essentially did. This did nothing to make his sense of superiority any less subtle.

But his friends didn’t notice that. They wanted to know more, especially Sirius. James liked the look of the outfit and wanted to try on the badges, but Sirius was more interested in what punk actually meant, which Remus tried to describe as best he could, relying mostly on his aunt’s own words.

“It’s embracing being outcasts to society. Saying fuck the Ministry and stuff.”

“What’s wrong with the Ministry?” asked Sirius. “They run the whole wizarding world in Britain, they can’t be bad.” Remus couldn’t go into the details of why the Ministry was bad because he’d be there all day, and besides, he didn’t know how to explain exactly why they were bad because he didn’t have the words yet. There were technical terms that he didn’t understand. All he knew about was their anti-werewolf laws, the stuff that affected him, but he didn’t know the ins and outs. Certainly not in a way that he could explain to someone whose whole family probably worked in the Ministry in the first place.

“They’re bad because they’re society, and society is oppressive.” Though Remus didn’t have all the words, he still had enough words, and they made him feel very clever being able to use them, as if he was an adult who knew things his classmates didn’t. And Sirius was drinking up everything.

“Why is it oppressive?” he continued to ask, the tone of his questions straying away from confusion to plain curiosity, as if he viewed Remus as an intriguing encyclopaedia, urging him on. Remus put his hands on Sirius’s shoulders.

“Because society is like your family. Society is...” he thought exactly what society was, and why it related to Sirius’s family. He knew there was a connection, but he was still new on this whole society thing. He needed to ask aunt Selene more questions. “Society is what stops you from being yourself. It’s disapproving about everything and you have to fit in, but fitting in is crap, which is why punks hate society, and they rebel against it by wearing different clothes and listening to music that also hates society.” He didn’t know if his explanation was correct, but he knew that society was the key word on why he had to hide that he was a werewolf. Why he had to hide that he was trans, why he had to struggle to be called the right name and be seen as a boy. Why people wouldn’t like him if they knew who he really was. He tried to get as much of this through to Sirius as he could without actually giving anything away.

“I’ll show you.” Remus thought now was as good a time as any to let Sirius listen to Atom Heart Mother Suite, because even though it wasn’t really the type of music that Remus thought sounded punk (the bands Selene had showed him had lots of guitar and lyrics that were hard to make out over all the yelling, while his Pink Floyd album wasn’t like those bands at all; listening to it felt almost like you were floating), he thought it would still explain to Sirius what he was talking about. And what better time to do it than at midnight when everyone else was asleep, and Remus and Sirius could sneak down to use the communal record player? Sneaking out of bed when you weren’t allowed to was definitely punk. It was against the rules, and rules— as it stood— were society. Remus told this to Sirius as well.

“People will hear us,” Sirius warned, and while Remus didn’t like to admit that he had a point, he also didn’t want the record to be interrupted by some older kid coming downstairs and telling them to shut up.

“You don’t happen to know how to put a silencing charm around us, do you?”

“I think it’s Silencio, but I don’t know how to do it around us.” Remus had to think for a second, but it didn’t take long for his eyes to light up.

“Then we’ll just take the record player somewhere else.” Sneaking around the castle at night was even more punk, so when Sirius asked if it was worth all the hassle, Remus didn’t even listen before picking the record player up in his arms, stumbling a little under the load, and shifting the weight to the side so he could grab Sirius’s arm with his one free hand.

Remus decided against going back for James’s invisibility cloak, for a number of reasons, mainly because he couldn’t be bothered. But also, he felt that if he took James’s invisibility cloak, it would only be fair to take James along as well, and a small part of him wanted this to just be him and Sirius; a part of him that had no idea why. This part managed to win, however, and so he and Sirius tiptoed through the dark halls of the castle, straining their ears for any noises or any signs of Mrs. Norris.

As luck would have it, they managed to avoid discovery, helped mostly by Remus’s knowledge of all the secret passages.

“How did you even learn all these routes?” Sirius whispered from beside him as they climbed the steep stairs to the astrology tower. “You must sneak out all the time.”

“Not really, I just... have a good memory.”

“James doesn’t, he’d kill for this knowledge. He’s always talking about sneaking out to have fun and get snacks from the kitchens, but the only routes he knows are too open.”

“I’ll write all the passages down for him,” replied Remus, losing focus on the conversation as they reached the top of the tower. The room was empty, lit up only by the thin line of moonlight illuminating the stone ground. It was quiet, still. Perfect.

Remus set down the record player, releasing his grip on Sirius’s sleeve which he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding onto this entire time.

“Lie down,” Remus instructed as he slipped the Pink Floyd record out of its cover. Sirius did as was told, lying close to the record player. Remus held the needle down, praying that it would work. The record crackled a little as the needle rested in place, and Remus let out an internal sigh of relief as the opening notes began to filter out. He shifted himself next to Sirius and lay down as well. Neither of the boys spoke as they listened to the music, Remus stealing glances at his friend every so often. All muggle music was a new experience to Sirius, so no matter what he thought of the record, Remus didn’t want to miss seeing his reaction.

Sirius’s expression remained rather unreadable, but Remus noticed his eyes were transfixed in place, and whether they were sparkling from the moonlight or from what he was hearing, Remus didn’t know. But he struggled to look away.

As time went on, as the two listened to the choir singing of the first song, Remus couldn’t help but be hyper-aware of not only himself, and of Sirius, but of everything around him, in a way that made time appear to freeze. He could so easily pretend that this moment would last for eternity, that he’d always be lying beside Sirius listening to Pink Floyd in the astronomy tower. Not in so much a sentimental way, he didn’t consider himself to be much of a sentimental person. It felt factual, like the two really had entered a time warp where only they existed, and that only they had ever heard this album.

Remus looked over at Sirius again to see that his expression was still the same, still transfixed. Everything about the situation made Remus want to smile, for reasons he couldn’t put his finger on. He felt like the coolest person alive. An easy conclusion to come to once the electric guitars kicked in. He felt like an adult, not in the way that he usually did, with all the responsibilities he had weighing down on his back. All of that just melted away with the music. In that moment he felt like an adult because he felt like he knew everything, and he felt freer than he’d ever felt before.

In that moment, he wasn’t a werewolf. He wasn’t trans. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of his identity, but they were labels put on him by society, and this was punk. There was no society. In that moment he was Remus. And he really hoped, with all his heart, that Sirius felt the same way.

Alan’s Psychedelic Breakfast made Sirius laugh a little, softly but still mesmerised. He had never heard a song where someone was just... talking. And when the music did kick in, it was so happy sounding; light piano keys and electric guitar. When Remus listened to it, he imagined lying in a field in the early afternoon. It felt hopeful, like things would always get better eventually. Then the music would stop, and more breakfast sounds filled the room, an odd juxtaposition to the dark astronomy tower at one in the morning, but the music would kick in again, a little more melancholy, but it all still had that morning feel to it. So listening to it at this time of night felt almost surreal. The whole situation felt surreal, and Remus felt like he was barely there. Not in a bad way, he noticed. He was floating again, like he was on his aunt’s yellowing rug, the sounds of breakfast from the album intermingling with the voices from downstairs in the pub.

This was a different sort of floating, though, because in aunt Selene’s flat Remus wasn’t so aware of his surroundings and his feelings. He just sort of drifted into the music and contemplated life, but now his focus couldn’t help but constantly shift over to the boy next to him.

It seemed to be a side effect of the music, that made everything around him so irresistible, but Remus felt like reaching out to at least touch the sides of Sirius’s fingers. Brush against them to see what it felt like. He thought listening to the music would be significantly improved if he was holding someone’s hand, although considering that they were on the last song, it may have been a little late.

Maybe another time. Maybe they could come up here again and lay down next to each other, and Remus would be able to find out what listening to Pink Floyd felt like when your hand was in someone else’s. His new found punk attitude was making him attach a significance to everything, a pretentious significance. Music was music, and it couldn’t change depending on whether you were holding onto someone or not. But at that moment, Remus’s pre-teen mind was convinced that something like holding hands while listening to a guy named Alan have breakfast in a morning field would be life-changing.

“That was very different to classical music,” murmured Sirius, breaking the subsequent silence that the crackling needle brought to the room. Remus looked over at him, and finally, he looked right back. Remus could see that his eyes were still sparkling, despite being hidden from the moonlight now.

“Did you like it?” Remus asked, failing to hide the slight anxiousness in his voice. It was his main concern after all. Sirius propped himself up on his elbow, his eyes wide for emphasis as he nodded his head.

“I loved it! I’ve never heard anything like that before. It made me feel... I don’t know how it made me feel but music’s never made me feel things before.” Remus sat up himself. He couldn’t ask for a better response, and he shared the sentiment, although this album wasn’t the first time music had made him feel more than just enjoyment at what he was listening to. He felt a similar way to when he listened to his Sgt Pepper album at home.

“It was definitely worth the trip around the castle,” continued Sirius, and Remus smiled in agreement.

“It was, as long as no one catches us walking back.”

“Do we have to walk back?” asked Sirius, to which Remus tilted his head in confusion.

“Of course we do, we can’t stay here.”

“Why not?” Sirius was quieter now, as if he was admitting something he thought sounded embarrassing. “It’s practically morning already, and I quite like it up here.” It was a weak argument; it would be a few hours yet before the horizon even started to glow orange, and if they didn’t wake up in their dorm tomorrow, everyone would see that they were missing.

But Remus’s logical and responsible brain was becoming more and more suppressed by his new rebellious energy and only one sentence came to his mind to convince himself to stay: “a punk would stay here.” Lydia would stay here. Selene would stay here. Remus wanted to stay here too.

“Okay.” Sirius raised his eyebrows in surprise as if he hadn’t been expecting Remus to agree with him so quickly.

“Really?” Remus nodded.

“Yeah.” As long as we wake up before everyone else, said the responsible side of him who refused to stay fully silent. Nevertheless, he lay back onto the floor with little concern, and listened to Sirius shuffle behind him to reach the needle of the record player. He rewound the album, and the music started again.

Remus was falling asleep by the time the record was half way through. The stone floor wasn’t exactly comfortable, but at nearly two in the morning he didn’t even notice. He couldn’t focus on anything like he had previously and he let his eyes close, sleep washing over him in a sudden rush so that he could feel himself slipping out of consciousness before he even had a chance to register the fact. He was already in the half-asleep phase that always caused the weirdest dreams to leak into reality and make him feel even more tired than before, when the fading part of his conscious brain noticed that Sirius was talking.

“... he didn’t listen to a word I said,” Sirius was murmuring, although loud enough to make it clear to Remus that he was talking to him, so Remus felt a bit guilty when he had to ask “who?”

“My brother,” confirmed Sirius, seemingly unaware that Remus also hadn’t heard a word he’d said. “On the train, I was trying to speak to him. He wouldn’t listen.” Remus didn’t know if this was a conversation, or whether Sirius just wanted to voice his worries, but since Remus had no idea what those worries were, given the context, he couldn’t help but keep prompting him.

“What did you say to him?”

“I tried to convince him to stay with me, even if he wasn’t in Gryffindor. I tried to tell him about our family, because I hadn’t been able to at home, not without being discovered, but he wouldn’t hear it. Said if I kept talking like that I’d be a traitor to our name.” So that’s what Sirius had been doing when he inexplicably left them on the train to sit with his brother, and Remus felt another twang of guilt at remembering how he’d assumed the worst of his friend. He had thought that Sirius was staying close to his family again after spending the holidays with them, but looking back, Remus hadn’t given him any credit. He’d lived with his family for eleven years before coming to Hogwarts; if he had managed to change his mind on his original views after that, then two months wouldn’t have had much affect. Remus wasn’t exactly an expert on psychology, though, so he couldn’t be fully blamed for having his concerns. He needed to be concerned, wary, mistrusting. For him, it was a natural survival instinct, no matter who was on the receiving end.

That being said, Sirius had also confirmed that Regulus was firmly not on their side, so Remus certainly hadn’t been wrong to be wary of him.

“So what are going to do about him?” Remus asked.

“What do you mean?” Sirius— who had had his head in the same position this whole time, staring once again at the ceiling— turned to face him.

“Are you going to keep trying to talk to him?” Remus thought Sirius was better off leaving well alone, but a part of him also hoped that Sirius could possibly manage to get through to his brother, and that would rid Hogwarts of another threat to Remus. He had to be selfish in this instance; Sirius was his best friend, but his relationship with his brother wasn’t Remus’s problem unless it was detrimental to himself.

“Of course I am,” replied Sirius, as if he couldn’t even imagine the thought of not doing so. “I have to try and get through to him. He’s my brother.” Remus accepted the answer, keeping his own thoughts to himself. As much as he wanted to help, he didn’t want to put himself into the crossfire, so all he could do was sit back and let Sirius do what he needed to do.

The following day, Remus had to see Madam Pomfrey. A visit he’d actually been looking forward to, so he didn’t have to worry about waking up late and getting caught sneaking back to the dorm; he was already up with the sun.

Sirius must have fallen asleep some time during the early hours, but Remus didn’t know when since he had already been fast asleep himself. He shook Sirius awake as the morning light filtered into the tower, and the two had to rush back to the Gryffindor common room to deposit the heavy record player before anyone else woke up. They didn’t have a chance to speak on the way back, or even in the astronomy tower. All focus was placed on remaining undetected, especially after a brief scare where they had to duck into an empty classroom to avoid a run in with a prowling Mrs. Norris. When they finally did arrive safely back to the common room, they had a moment together where Sirius thanked Remus for the previous night.

“I think I understand punk a bit better now,” he said with a smile, and his fingers brushed against Remus’s before he excused himself to go back up to bed, in an attempt to grab the last hour of sleep before they had to get up for breakfast. Remus looked at his own fingers for a moment, contemplating something that wasn’t even in his head. Just empty thoughts that didn’t register the feel of Sirius’s skin, before he eventually turned to the stairs of the boys’ dormitory and settled himself back into bed, slipping into only brief bouts of sleep.

Before breakfast, Remus withdrew from the dormitory again to go down to the hospital wing, while everyone else, including Sirius, had barely woken up yet. He was excited this time, although he tried to suppress it with waves of anxiety so as not to get his hopes up. Remus’s mother had talked to Madam Pomfrey, but she hadn’t told him what about, and he wanted to know if he’d be allowed a higher dose of Morfosis to— if nothing else— finally stop his period.

When he arrived, Madam Pomfrey was already bustling around, smoothing the bedsheets on the empty beds. It was only the first day back, so no one had yet to befall any significant injuries. When she spotted him, she smiled and waved him over, both of them retreating into her office.

The first thing she did was place a vial of Morfosis on her desk, the sight of the clear, watery liquid familiar to him now. Remus observed it, and noticed that the vial was a little fuller than usual. He looked up at her with bated breath, but she continued on as factual as ever.

“Your mother and I decided to allow you to take an extra few milligrams of Morfosis, which would bring the dose up to ten millilitres from the original five,” explained Madam Pomfrey, with a meaningful smile on her face. “It’s not a high dose yet, but it should at least decrease the severity of your period, if not stop it entirely.” Remus was ecstatic by this news, as was expected, but he was surprised his mother had permitted him to take a higher dose before he was thirteen, like she no doubt would have preferred. Maybe it was another peace present offered to him over her split with Lyall, but Remus couldn’t care less about the motive behind it. The thought of his period stopping was all that mattered. Not having to worry about it felt like another step forward for him, and for what seemed like the first time in a long time, he left the hospital wing feeling genuinely content.

Chapter Text

The following month was fairly uneventful, with only two significant things happening in Remus’s opinion.

For one, Sirius was still attempting to reach out to his brother. He’d go off during break times and leave his friends under the oak tree outside, not returning until lessons restarted, looking as moody and downtrodden as ever. It was a bit of a drag, and Remus could tell that James was struggling with his friend no longer being as cheerful as he’d once been, who wasn’t as willing to partake in pranks, or have fun in class or even just crack a few jokes. Remus sympathised, and he missed the old Sirius too. But for some reason, Sirius’s rejection from his brother had seemingly brought him closer to Remus more than anyone else, which Remus was confused by. Surely, if one was on the path to losing their brother they’d fall back on someone who felt just as much like their brother, which Remus knew was James. James and Sirius regularly described themselves as brothers, both in a joking way, but with a clear hint of genuineness. Remus understood Sirius’s logic eventually, though. Sirius needed comfort, and James wasn’t the best at that. It wasn’t James’s fault; Remus had known him long enough now to realise that he didn’t mean to be dismissive when someone was feeling bad. It was usually the one time James wasn’t a talker, when someone needed comfort. When he did talk, he usually repeated someone’s else’s sentiment and try to think of a physical act to do instead of offering any sort of words of advice, like give someone a chocolate frog or ask if they needed a hug. He’d admitted to Remus that the truth was he was simply terrible at comforting people with words.

“I just never know what to say. All I can think to do is try and tell them a story of when I felt the same way as them, but then people don’t seem to like that. So I just... shut up I guess. It’s easier to just ask if they want some sweets and then leave the comfort up to someone else.” And in this case, that someone else usually turned out to be Remus, who was much better at knowing what to say. Whether he liked comforting people or not, didn’t matter (and if he was being honest he certainly wasn’t particularly thrilled to be the one people went to for advice), because unfortunately that was just who he was. He knew how to act and he knew what to say, so people always turned to him. Sirius was no different.

“He talks to me,” Sirius would say. “But only to try and convince me that it would be better if I acted more like our family. Says it’s better for me. He’s looking out for me, I guess, but he won’t listen. He doesn’t know that I’m looking out for him too.” Remus wanted to say that if he wasn’t getting through to Regulus, he was unlikely ever to get through to him now that Regulus was spending all his time with the Slytherins. But he also didn’t want Sirius to get fed up with him, so he sucked it up, and said what Sirius wanted to hear. The comfort that everyone wanted to hear when they came to Remus. He really hoped this role that had been shoved upon him wouldn’t stick.

“He just needs some time,” said Remus. “He’ll realise that you’re right one day, and he’ll come running back. Just you wait and see.” Sirius smiled gratefully at him, and all of Remus’s cynicism melted away briefly, and he finally felt a wave of pure sympathy towards his friend. Sirius was hurting, of course he was. He wanted Regulus to be on his side— on his friends’ side— and it was killing him that his brother was slipping away from him with little more than a goodbye. Sirius wanted to reach someone who seemed unreachable, and the effort was getting to him. He needed Remus to be there. James was just a distraction for him, someone he could go to when he needed a laugh, but Remus was his go-to when he just needed to talk. The night in the astronomy tower had proven that, and Remus had to reconsider his aversion with being the comforter of the group, because he suddenly realised that he didn’t mind sitting here with Sirius. They were alone in the courtyard of the school grounds, but they were hidden within the arches, away from the main corridor. They had been sitting opposite each other, since there was no room to sit side by side, unless they gave up their back rests and sat facing the courtyard. But Sirius wanted to keep his voice low, so he shifted as close to Remus as possible, and eventually they were sitting beside each other, their knees almost touching.

As they sat in relative silence, Remus felt that desire again to reach out his hand and place it in Sirius’s. He thought it would be a good way to comfort him. His mam held his hand sometimes when he was sad, and it made him feel better. Maybe the same would work for Sirius.

“Oh, I forgot!” Sirius suddenly exclaimed, quickly standing up, and Remus had to force his feelings to the back of his head, his hand retracting from where it had started to reach out towards Sirius’s. He shook himself out of his thoughts and re-focused on the present.

“What?”

“We have to go to the Quidditch grounds for the try outs.”

Ah yes. That was the other significant thing that happened during the first month. Quidditch tryouts for a place on the House teams, and James was going to be there, vying for a spot as one of the Gryffindor chasers. It had all he’d been talking about since he’d arrived at Hogwarts essentially, so there was no way Remus and Sirius could miss it.

They ran through the castle, since the Quidditch grounds were on the other side to where the courtyard was, getting reprimanded by Professor Flitwick as they passed him on their way, and slowing their run to a slight jog, speeding up again as soon as they were out of sight from the professor.

They were a few minutes late to the pitch, but James didn’t notice. He appeared not to notice his surroundings at all, as he was pacing in a circle with his eyes firmly to the ground as everyone else warmed up. He looked up to the stands briefly, where Remus, James and Peter were sitting, but they didn’t notice the glazed look in his eyes as he stared at nothing, so they waved to him in encouragement. He didn’t wave back. He didn’t notice them at all.

Tobin was there as well, so they all sat together, with Tobin pointing out that Jethro and Owain were trying out as well.

“Jethro’s going for keeper,” he explained. “He’s great at catching the Quaffle. Never misses. And Owain’s a great beater.” Remus was just glad that James didn’t have competition from someone in the same class as him, although his competition was much bigger and much stronger looking, so Remus didn’t know which was worse.

James seemed to be the only Chaser there who was under the age of thirteen, which did him not favours. The other guys were way more experienced than him, and James knew it. Even from this distance Remus could see he looked like he was about to be sick with nerves. Tobin was trying to reassure them about James’s chances, stating that the older guys didn’t have that much on him considering they hadn’t already made the team.

“It means a lot of them aren’t actually that good. Besides, there’s two places up for grabs, so he has a chance.”

“As long as he doesn’t mess it up with nerves,” said Remus.

“Jethro has it harder, there’s only one keeper.” The keepers were trying out as they spoke, with Jethro next in line. Before he stepped up, Remus spotted Lily and her friend Mary McDonald weaving their way through the stands. He waved them over and they sat down beside the group of boys.

“What are you doing here?” Remus asked, amicably enough.

“Marlene’s trying out for chaser,” explained Lily, pointing at the girl standing beside James, who Remus hadn’t previously noticed. She looked considerably more confident than her counterpart, warming up by jogging on the spot, and looking steadily ahead at the hoops. James was staring at the hoops as well, but more in a way that suggested he thought the hoops were going to grow fangs at any moment and gobble him up. His eyes were fixated on them, and he stood dead still.

Jethro was now up by the hoops, demonstrating his catching skills as the Gryffindor Captain and chaser, Hestia Jones, threw the Quaffle at him. Jethro threw the ball back after each catch and the cycle would repeat. Tobin was right: Jethro was really good. He didn’t miss a single catch, and his aim was pretty spot on as well. Remus and the others all clapped and cheered when Jethro’s turn was over, and similarly again when the beaters tried out and Owain successfully batted the bludgeons away from him and anyone else who was flying around the pitch. Except for one, which ricocheted into the stands and caused everyone to quickly duck down before Hestia Jones could freeze it with a spell. Owain finished his turn looking pretty disappointed, which was a shame considering he’d done a good job up to that point. Jethro thumped him encouragingly on the back when Owain touched down onto the grass, while the others in the stands whooped and clapped to try and cheer him up a little.

Very soon, it was James’s turn. He was after most of the other chasers, a few of which were pretty terrible, spectacularly missing the goals and dropping the Quaffle. But a select couple were clearly talented, regardless of what Tobin said about age. With James going second to last, he had to subject himself to these— considerably older and stronger— players. Remus felt that if he was stood next to James right now he’d see him visibly shaking.

“Go on, James!!” shouted Sirius from beside Remus, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice, and the others followed suit, yelling encouragement as loud as they could. Even the girls joined in, and James finally looked up, a semblance of his cool confidence returning as he gave them all a thumbs up.

Hestia Jones took the role of the keeper as James had to try and throw the Quaffle into the hoops without her saving them. Which was easier said than done: she was a good keeper.

“The goals are more bonuses that anything,” explained Tobin, who seemed to be weirdly learned in the mechanics of trying out for the Quidditch team. “She’s not expecting him to get them all with her trying to save them because then he’d be the best Quidditch player in the world. It’s just his throwing, his catching, and if he can get at least one or two goals then he’s definitely in the running.”

“How do you know all this?” asked Lily, leaning in front of Remus and voicing what had been on his own mind. Tobin shrugged.

“I was captain of my primary school football team,” he replied. “I was there for try-outs. The logistics can’t be that different.”

With Tobin’s suggestions in mind, they watched as James made some good throws towards the hoops, and catching the Quaffle every time when Jones threw it back to him. When he actually made a goal, Remus and the others couldn’t help but cheer loudly, warranting a disapproving look from Jones. They weren’t supposed to distract the players.

James was all set for a flawless try-out, but unfortunately, he accidentally dropped the Quaffle on his last attempt at a goal, and wasn’t able to catch it in time before it hit the ground. His turn was over, and it hadn’t ended in a blaze of glory like he had wanted, and it showed. When Remus and Sirius and Peter came running down from the stands to greet him off the pitch, he was dragging his broomstick behind him, head down and scowling.

“You did brilliantly!” exclaimed Sirius, slapping James’s shoulder to congratulate him. James looked at him as if he were mad.

“You’re joking! I messed it up right at the end, I looked like an idiot!”

“No you didn’t,” assured Remus. “It was just one mistake, even professional players drop the Quaffle sometimes. You were sights better than loads of people trying out.” Sirius and Peter nodded enthusiastically at Remus’s words, but they didn’t do much to soothe James’s internal self-deprecation over what he saw as the biggest blunder of his life. James glanced back at the pitch where Marlene was now trying out, Lily and Mary still in the stands cheering her on. Marlene was good too; she even managed a goal. This did nothing to comfort James, and Sirius took him by the arm and practically frog-marched him away from the pitch.

“Come on, we’ll get you some pumpkin juice and a biscuit,” said Sirius, taking the role of mother hen, a role they all took on to try and distract James from the Quidditch pitch. He seemed to grow considerably less miserable after a chocolate biscuit from a plate they had stolen from the Great Hall. The entire plate. Sirius wasn’t fucking around.

The Quidditch positions wouldn’t be revealed for a while yet, with the first match not until January. So James was more tetchy than usual, zoning out randomly and voicing his concerns at the most random moments so that the others had to struggle to keep up with what he was referring to.

“It’s not a big deal if you don’t get on the team,” groaned Peter after another outburst of nerves from James. This time they were in the corridors between potions and transfiguration class. “You can always try again next year.”

“No I can’t because there won’t be any places next year for chaser,” explained James irritably. “Hestia Jones is the oldest and she’s only in fifth year.”

“She might quit,” suggested Sirius.

“Course she won’t, she’s too good. If I don’t get on the team this year I’ll have to wait another two.”

“Someone else could quit by then,” said Remus. “You’re worrying too much.”

“I heard the commentator’s quitting,” informed Sirius, despite the little relevance this held to James. “Dave Cohen from seventh year. He’s focusing on his Newts.”

“What’s that got to do with me? I’m not going to be commentator.”

“I know. But still.” He declined to elaborate.

“I wouldn’t mind being commentator,” continued Remus, ignoring the sigh from James as their conversation turned away from his own problems. “It’s my favourite part of Quidditch matches.”

“You’re mad,” said Peter. “Of all the players and the goals and the flying, your favourite part’s the talking? All the commentator does is tell you what you can already see happening.”

“It’s more than that, it’s... it’s a skill.” Remus didn’t know how to explain it exactly, but he’d always admired the quickness of commentators being able to describe everything that was happening, no matter how fast the players were, as well as cracking jokes at the same time and keeping things entertaining.

“You should sign up for the part then,” said Sirius. Remus shook his head.

“Absolutely not, I’d be terrible.” If truth be told, Remus didn’t think he was terrible. He didn’t think he was amazing at commentating, but he did know he could keep up with the players. He’d practiced countless times, muttering under his breath during Quidditch matches with his father, his eyes fixated on the game, and practising his speaking voice in the mirror— before his parents caught him, of course.

“No you wouldn’t,” Sirius assured. “You’re always talking.”

“I’m always talking?” That was rich coming from Sirius, even richer when their friend group involved James, and Peter wasn’t much better. Remus always thought he was the only quiet one of the group.

“Yeah, you talk really fast when you’re obsessing over something and you know everything. Commentators have to know everything.” None of that sounded like Remus at all, so either he had no idea what he was really like or Sirius was extremely mistaken.

“Whatever, they’ll find someone better than me anyway.” 

“Oh please try out.” That was James, surprisingly. Remus didn’t think he was even listening, absorbed as he was in his own world of Quidditch. “It’d be so cool if I got position as chaser and you got to commentate me.”

“What if you don’t get the position?”

“Bloody hell, Remus, don’t tell him that,” warned Peter. “He’ll be off again worrying.” James punched his shoulder.

“Try out anyway,” he continued. “I dare you to, and you can’t turn down a dare, not in this friend group.”

“Yeah, first rule of our group, you have to do whatever we dare you to,” backed up Sirius.

“Sounds a bit dangerous, but I’m not surprised.” Dares had been thrown around the group a lot, and no one, not even Peter, had ever turned one down. Remus wasn’t about to be the first one who did. He sighed.

“Fine. I’ll try out.” The three other boys cheered in celebration, earning a stern look from Professor McGonagall: they were now outside their transfiguration class, and quickly hushed up as they entered, focusing now on reattempting to turn a bird into a goblet of water.

Remus didn’t have to worry about the commentator position for a few months, as Dave Cohen was still holding the role until exam season started. But it encouraged him to start practicing again, resorting back to his mirror technique, although this time he’d whisper his commentary to ensure no one would hear him. He’d mostly just listen to Quidditch matches on the radio, learning how to paint a picture so vivid that he could see what was happening without even being at the match. It was tricky, but Remus felt he was up to it. He was quick-thinking with an equally quick-tongue, which were two very useful attributes.

However, his practice had to go on pause when the full moon came around, as there were more pressing things to focus on. For starters, he ended up in a spot of bother out in the Forbidden Forest that could have ended much worse than it had, and earned him a rare trip to Dumbledore’s office the following day.

Sometime during the night, he had somehow managed to run into the territory of the centaurs, despite the fact that they were hidden well within the forest, miles almost. Usually, Remus subconsciously stuck around the outer area of the forest, but something must have prompted him to go deeper, so deep that Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey hadn’t foreseen him ending up that far. But his wolf form was unpredictable, and as a result, he always had to deal with the consequences.

He remembered snippets of the night when he woke up, recalling the hostility from both himself and the centaurs. The memories hit him full force and he had never been more scared in his life, both as he struggled to remember if he had accidentally hurt anyone, and even more scared that the centaurs were still around and may try to hurt him. He certainly hadn’t escaped the ordeal without any significant injuries, after all. His torso was bleeding, although the scratches across his chest looked suspiciously like his own. How he managed to cut himself remained a mystery, but he was extremely lucky that he hadn’t been hit by an arrow. He’d read a book on weapons once, something his dad had given him, and the section on arrows outlined them to be deadly. They stuck fast in skin, and trying to rip one out just tore the surrounding skin with agonising intensity and you ended up just bleeding to death.

Remus was lucky to be alive.

When he finally did stand up and looked around him, the centaurs were nowhere to be found. He must have successfully broken out from their territory, but he still had no clue where he was. He was still deep in the woods, and he didn’t have Hagrid on hand right now, not until he was a little closer to the outer area. He, therefore, had to rely solely on the residue of his werewolf senses, which were always heightened around the full moon, especially the day before and the day after the actual night. His sense of smell and his keen ears were most useful, while his eyesight became almost useless as the trees and the bushes all morphed into the same surroundings. The only sight he could rely on was the light and whether it was starting to get brighter, shining through the gaps in the foliage.

He tried not to panic as much as the last time he’d gotten lost, but he had the growing fear that he’d run into the centaurs again at any moment. The more he walked the more the night before started to come back to him in flashbacks. He remembered the arrows flying, and realised that one had managed to pierce his skin at the time, and he was simply lucky that his sheer size and thick fur had offered him some protection. It had been shot into the back of his leg, and he looked behind him, craning his neck to check the damage, lifting up the ruined material of what barely constituted as trousers. His leg was certainly bleeding badly, and the skin was fairly ripped around it, so he hadn’t been fully protected. In fact he was lucky he had managed to get it out in the first place, however he had done that. Remus didn’t remember. But it undoubtedly needed urgent attention, and the only reason he wasn’t in searing pain was the adrenaline and the vague shock numbing the nerves to his brain.

The light was starting to become more visible, so Remus hoped he was on the right track. As he became a little more confident it allowed him to try and think back more to what happened. Why the hell had he even ventured so far? Had it just been a bout of curious exploration on his part? More confidence? More aggression? Sometimes he became more restless when the moon was closer to the Earth’s orbit, one of those super moons. Of course, it was a common misconception that different types of moons caused werewolves to change their behaviour more significantly. Remus had read an article once, adamant that lunar eclipses caused werewolves to lose their powers altogether, while blood moons caused them to become demonic. It was all bullshit, especially considering that blood moons and lunar eclipses were the same thing, and Remus certainly couldn’t remember a time when he’d not only returned to his human form during the full moon, but also became the son of Satan or whatever the author of that article was thinking. Super moons were the only thing that had a slight affect on him, and even then it wasn’t anything too significant. Not only that, but there wasn’t going to be a super moon until January anyway, so really, this theory was completely pointless and a waste of his time even thinking about.

Whatever the reason for his out of character behaviour, the point was, he had run into serious danger that could have turned out terribly. He was thankful that he couldn’t recall causing anyone else any injuries, hoping that his mind was being truthful and wasn’t covering up any specific memory of hurting a centaur. The arrows must have scared him off before he could cause any real damage.

“Remus!” That was Hagrid’s voice. Remus turned his head towards it, relief flooding through him. He ran to the source of the voice, ignoring the growing twinge in his leg, and stumbled out into the sightline of the giant man in front of him.

“There you are!” Hagrid exclaimed, quickly handing Remus a blanket to wrap round his shoulders and cover up his torso, which luckily for him was flat at the moment. Madam Pomfrey always ensured it was before the full moon, as his shirt always ended up ripped beyond repair after transforming. His trousers were the only thing that vaguely survived, since his legs tended to only grow longer without really changing in size too much. The rest of his body was a different story. He got through a lot of clothes within a month.

“I’ve been lookin’ fer you all morning.” He caught notice of Remus’s various injuries and saw how visibly shaken up he looked. “What happened to you?”

“Um... I accidentally got caught up with the centaurs.” Hagrid’s expression changed from confusion to genuine fear.

“You what?! But they’re so far into the forest, how did you even come across ‘em?”

“I dunno, I just went in too deep.”

“Yer lucky to be alive! Merlin’s beard, did you ‘urt any?”

“No. I’m pretty sure I didn’t.” They were coming into the clearing now, nearing Hagrid’s hut where Madam Pomfrey would be waiting to take him up to the hospital wing. He could already see her silhouette by the front door of the house. She walked up to them, and then noticing the state Remus was in, clucked around him anxiously. She went deathly pale when Hagrid told her about the centaurs.

“I’ll take him to Professor Dumbledore as soon as he’s rested up and I’ve fixed his injuries. We may decide for him to go back to transforming in the Shrieking Shack.” This statement barely hit him because as much as Remus had enjoyed the freedom of the forest, he couldn’t help but admit he was too scared now, unsure of his own predictability anymore, and worried he’d run into trouble again and not make it out so unscathed next time.

Madam Pomfrey led him to the hospital wing and his leg was quickly attended to. It was starting to hurt now, with every movement sending shooting pains through his calf. But the bleeding was soon stopped, the wound sewn up and bandages wrapped around it. With a few painkilling potions, Remus was soon fast asleep in a dreamless coma until the early evening.

Chapter Text

Remus had to visit Dumbledore’s office before dinner the following day, once he’d finally woken up. Madam Pomfrey escorted him there so she could explain the situation, but unexpectedly, Hagrid was there as well. Remus supposed this was because he knew more about the centaurs than anyone else, so he could advise Dumbledore on what they should do.

Chapter Text

Sirius hadn’t intended to let the school know about James’s overreaction at the Shrieking Shack that night, but it slipped out during the consequent bragging rights they’d gained. They didn’t have to worry too much about the teachers finding out because their endeavour was only spread around Gryffindor, and the unspoken Gryffindor rule was that no one grassed up anyone to the teachers, no matter what. This resulted in Sirius going a little far and embellishing details. According to him, the fence they’d climbed over was akin to a huge brick wall, he’d broken into the house through the front door by knocking it down with his own strength and Remus and Peter had fought off a ghost. None of them corrected him. Except when he bragged about hiding in the wardrobe and scaring James so much that he ran straight out of the house (and to his credit, this was the only detail Sirius didn’t exaggerate. He could have easily said that James had screamed like a girl and wet himself, but he was loyal enough not to). James was adamant that Sirius was lying about this, however, and Remus and Peter gave non-committal confirmations, not wanting to make Sirius out to be a liar, but not wanting to embarrass James so much that he stopped talking to them.

Sirius did apologise, even if it was rather vague, but James just wouldn’t let it go. He hated people thinking he was some sort of scaredy cat. He loved being the perfect example of a Gryffindor; courageous, adventurous, bold, but now he was the guy who ran before Peter Pettigrew, and Peter wasn’t holding back from the limelight either. According to him, he had explored the entire house top to bottom before anyone else had even been brave enough to enter the first room, and once again, none of them corrected him. Per the second rule of their friend group: any lies or exaggerations said by any of them were immediately backed up by the others, no questions asked. Unless of course any of the lies or exaggerations were damaging to one of them, which James certainly thought at the moment.

The only distraction he had, which everyone thought would finally put his humiliation to rest, was the Quidditch positions being announced near the middle of November. The list was pinned up outside the Great Hall and James was one of the first to rush past everyone and stick his nose inches away from the piece of paper.

“Brilliant!” he shouted, jumping up in celebration. Remus, Sirius and Peter had been hot on his heels, so at least they could celebrate with him without him looking like a prick on his own. The list clearly stated that he had landed the chaser position, along with Marlene McKinnon. Marlene and Lily were there soon after him and they had their own mini celebration, joining in with the boys. Remus read the rest of the list.

“Hey, fantastic!” he alerted. “Jethro got keeper!”

“Did Owain get beater?” asked James. Remus looked at the list again and deflated a little.

“No. John Bell from third year.”

“Damn, would’ve been fun if we’d all got on the team.”

“What do you mean all?” replied Sirius defiantly. “Peter and I aren’t on the team.”

“Well then try out. Remus you have to get the commentator job now. It’ll be a laugh.”

“Alright I’ll try, but don’t get your hopes up.” They walked into the Great Hall, James beaming from ear to ear. Any negative feelings he’d had previously about the Shack Incident disappeared in an instant and he was practically bouncing. If the entire school didn’t know about James being on the Gryffindor team they probably did by the time he sat down at the table. He wouldn’t shut up about it, but to the school’s credit, everyone was patting him on the back, congratulating him, especially the Gryffindors who had previously witnessed how good he was during practice sessions. 

Jethro and Owain were already at the table, Jethro looking considerably brighter than his friend, especially with everyone congratulating him as well. Owain was happy for him, but he was clearly disappointed.

“You can try again next year, mate,” said Tobin, who was sitting next to them and successfully showing an equal amount of pride for Jethro as he was sympathy for Owain. “I think one of the beaters is leaving. Which one?”

“Kingsley Shacklebolt,” replied Jethro, taking up Tobin’s prompt.

“Yeah I guess,” replied Owain. “It’s just a shame though, because I bet I would’ve got it if I hadn’t let that bludger go rogue at the end.”

“Not necessarily,” interrupted James. “Loads of people made mistakes. So did I. So it probably wasn’t that.”

“So they just didn’t like me then.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that, I mean...”

“I know what you mean, it’s alright.”

“No, I meant that you were really good, it was just one mistake which everyone makes. It’s just there was only one position and so many beaters trying out.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Thanks.” Owain smiled at James and James looked relieved that he’d been able to save his usual disastrous attempt at comfort. Nevertheless, Owain tried to cheer up a bit, and his attention turned back to congratulating those who’d got on the team.

“You lot better start practicing and stuff,” said Sirius, spooning food onto James’s plate. Eggs, bacon, even a thin slice of salmon. All stuff he said was high in protein and therefore necessary for a Quidditch player. James took half of it off his plate.

“I don’t eat bacon and I don’t like salmon,” he said. “Toast is fine.”

“I’ve been your friend for two years, since when do you not eat bacon?” asked Sirius.

“Since forever, you moron. Do you not notice anything?”

“You can talk, a cauldron exploded in potions class a week ago and you didn’t even notice.”

“I was thinking about Quidditch tactics. The class was boring.” Sirius rolled his eyes and continued plating up food for all the new Quidditch players. Marlene was accosted with a bowl of porridge.

“Did you eat, Jeth?” he asked.

“Sirius, you’re not a dinner lady,” said Remus as Sirius held a bowl of cereal in front of Jethro’s face.

“What’s a dinner lady?”

“A lady who serves dinner.”

“Yeah, and you’d be a pretty crap one,” continued Jethro, pushing the bowl of cereal away.

“No I’m not! Do you want bacon?”

“I don’t eat bacon, it’s not kosher.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I can’t eat it because I’m Jewish.”

“Oh. Does anyone here eat bacon?”

“Eat it yourself,” interjected James. “Now sit down, you weirdo.” He pulled Sirius back from his half-standing position and Sirius crossed his arms to his chest, pouting. Remus laughed.

“You can pour me a glass of pumpkin juice if you want,” he said, holding his glass out.

“Get it yourself. You don’t get my services until you become part of the Quidditch team.” He stuck his tongue out at Remus, and Remus did it back.

The table was cheerful that day, with the conversations flowing all over the place. Remus was sitting next to Lily, so he was able to start a conversation with her about muggle music, which Lily knew enough about to follow Remus’s train of thought, although she admitted most of her knowledge of music came from her father’s limited collection of records and none of them were dated any more recently than than the early 60s.

“Other than that I listen to the radio,” she explained. “But I mainly like the sketches on the BBC. Did you ever listen to Round the Horne?”

“Yeah! With the Julian and Sandy bit at the end?”

“Mm, that was always my favourite. I miss that show, I listened to it when I came home from primary school for lunch.” Remus listened to Round the Horne all the time on Hope’s crackly radio. It was on when he was younger, around six or seven, and there wasn’t much else for him to do, so he tuned in every week. He found the Julian and Sandy sketches to be the funniest, even if he didn’t understand everything of what was being said. They used a lot of slang words that neither he nor his mum understood, but when the audience laughed he couldn’t help but join in. The characters were so jolly sounding.

“I recorded the sketches when I got bored on my uncle’s tape recorder. I listen to them sometimes.” He hadn’t actually listened to them for a while, and he wasn’t sure if he even remembered where he’d put the tapes. All he remembered was the phrase from the first episode that he and his mum always quoted to each other: “How bona to vada your dolly old eek!” From context, they had decided that the phrase meant how nice it was to see your lovely old face.

“Did you ever wonder what they were saying?” Remus asked.

“Yeah, sometimes. But they didn’t use weird words often, so it was still funny.”

The conversation switched again, this time to Lily asking if it was true that they had snuck out to the Shrieking Shack and if James really had run away. Remus confirmed, and the two laughed about it for a bit until James caught them and stared daggers. They hid their giggles behind their fists, but they weren’t exactly subtle about it.

James interrogated him about it later.

“You have to stop telling people what happened,” he ordered. “Especially to people like Lily.” Remus raised his eyebrows at him.

“Me stop? Sirius is the one who mentioned it.”

“Yeah, but people were about to forget about it with all the Quidditch stuff going on, and then you tell Lily!”

“Why are you so against Lily knowing?”

“Because... I think she thinks I’m a bit of an idiot.”

“You are.”

“No not in like a jokey way like Sirius is an idiot and so are you, and Peter. But like... she thinks I’m immature—” James stopped Remus before he could state the obvious. “I know, but I don’t want to keep embarrassing myself in front of her because she talks. She’s always talking with her friends and they’re always giggling and stuff. It’s annoying.”

“Well you don’t exactly help yourself.”

“Yeah but isn’t it that girls mature faster than boys and all that?” Remus shrugged. “Well it’s not my fault then that she and her friends are all acting like adults and laughing at me. She’s... annoying.”

“Hey, I think she’s great, and she’s my friend too.”

“Then why does she keep hanging around with that Snape guy? You know he hangs out with death eaters, right?”

“Lily says he doesn’t.” James rolled his eyes.

“Lily says this and Lily says that. If I’m being honest, I don’t like her. No offence.”

“I mean I can’t force you to like her.” Remus had no idea that James had any particularly strong feelings towards Lily Evans, and he wasn’t sure where this admittance was coming from. He didn’t even think that James had been aware of Lily enough in the first place to gain any sort of opinion, but Remus had clearly thought wrong. “Maybe if you talked to her, you’d realise that she’s nice.”

“She doesn’t like talking to me, and we don’t have anything in common. You two are always talking about muggle stuff and that doctor.”

“What doctor?”

“The one you don’t know the name of.” Remus thought for a second and then struggled to contain his laughter.

“You mean Doctor Who?”

“There you go again, you’d think if you talked about him so much you’d know his name.”

“James?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re an idiot.”

Another thing that came out of their nightly wanderings was a growing obsession they all now had with refining the map. James would spread it out on the table when everyone else had gone to sleep and the four of them would pour over it for hours, Peter neatening up his sketches and Remus ordering the parchment until it was easier to fold, flattening the edges and sticking things in the right place. James and Sirius wanted to explore Hogwarts more so they could map the entire place. Peter thought it was a little excessive, but once James— and Sirius to an extent— had got an idea in their head, they couldn’t move on until it had been successfully executed.

This began a long campaign of them growing so familiar with sneaking out at night that they almost forgot about the risks it held. They wanted to find all the secret passages to add to their map, new routes in and out of the castle, hidden staircases to get them to the kitchens without being spotted, and anything that could help them avoid Mrs. Norris’s prowlings.

Finding new passageways was the most exciting, but finding passageways that were inexplicably blocked up were just as intriguing to them. It warranted more exploration, to find out where it originally led to, and what the alternative route was. Since they didn’t have ample time, nor were they allowed to be doing this in the first place, it was hard to conduct any thorough investigations. So a lot of blocked up corridors were added to the map with no extra information about them. They only usually found where a blocked passage led to when it intercepted another one they’d drawn on the map.

Sometimes it felt like the map would never be complete. Hogwarts was so sprawling, with corridors leading this way and that. Peter liked detail, to the point where he’d even drawn the beds in the dorm rooms, but it was getting on a month now since they’d started and they had only just finished the first few floors. Not to mention the fact that they were going out nearly every night, which wasn’t good news for Remus as the full moon was growing closer. In the week leading up, he tried all he could to convince them to take a break from the map, and it was only luck that Peter and James agreed. Sirius enjoyed the exploration too much to want to stop, but James wanted to go back to practicing for the Quidditch match in January while Peter said he was tired of drawing. They agreed not to resume the map-making until the new year.

Remus hoped, therefore, he’d have at least two months without worrying about the others being present during the full moon. The previous month started to fade away as he forgot about the Shack Incident, which everyone else seemed to have moved on from as well. Christmas was nearing and Gryffindor were intent on the new Quidditch team finally beating Slytherin.

Remus, Sirius and Peter went to watch the players train so they could cheer on James and Jethro. They supported Marlene as well, even if they hadn’t interacted with her much. She was still a classmate, and for Remus, she was Lily’s friend. The training gave him more opportunity to talk with Lily, as well as Tobin and Owain, and it was a nice atmosphere. They could chat with the players as well after training, so the boys became more acquainted with Marlene. It turned out that she was very fun to hang out with, quite loud and animated, with an infectious laugh that got to them all. Sirius took to her instantly.

James on the other hand was always slightly irritated after each training session. It wasn’t that he wasn’t doing well, because he was. He’d made a few good goals and he hardly ever dropped the ball. He seemed to get on okay with his teammates as well, so Remus couldn’t work out what he was in a mood about.

But one evening, he and Sirius went down to the Quidditch grounds a few minutes before the session had actually ended and Remus heard some of the older team members lightly mocking James here and there. It was only a bit of fun, not in a nasty way, but they howled occasionally behind James’s back and kept pointing suddenly to make him look. If he ever fell for it they’d laugh at him. They’d quickly make up for it by thumping him on the back and putting an arm round his shoulders, but James was clearly still sensitive about the subject. The more it went on, the more angry he got. But he seemed to cool down soon after they returned back to Hogwarts, so Remus didn’t pay it much attention.

He probably should have.

The full moon was upon them, and Remus had to pay careful attention to sneak out without waking the others, who seemed to sleep fairly lightly nowadays. He didn’t use the map, because he knew his route out of the castle like the back of his hand. His only problem was accidentally running into someone, or a certain cat, but unfortunately the map couldn’t help with that, so there was no point. The map was mostly used by James who needed it to sneak out to the Quidditch pitch, but ever since he got onto the team and had regular training sessions, he didn’t sneak out as much as he had.

Remus thought he was safe, and he arrived at the Shack with no trouble. He was actually a little early this time, and curiosity caused him to poke around a little to see if anything had changed since the last time he and his friends had been here. There was nothing of course, but he noted that the window was still open. He went over to close it, but as he did, the moonlight streamed in and he had to stop midway. His transformation began with little warning, the wind whistling in through the open window, and for the first time since he’d been in the Shack, he transformed in the room by the front door. He had no opportunity to go back to the other room and lock the door behind him.

At least his wolf form would be able to feel the breeze in its fur from the open window.

Remus was pretty groggy the following morning. He was still in the Shack, lying on the floorboards, and the previous evening rushed over him in a wave of confusion. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something had happened, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what. He stood up, checking himself over. He seemed fine, a few scratches but nothing major. Certainly nothing that he’d remember. He pushed the feeling to the back of his mind and refocused on his surroundings. He had to walk his way through the tunnel and back to where Madam Pomfrey would be waiting.

She didn’t have to fuss over him this time, with no proper injuries to tend to, so she just let him sleep off the effects. He woke up quite a while later; the clock on the wall informing him that it was after dinner, and the light outside was slowly dying. Everything was a little foggy, so he didn’t notice somebody sitting next to him until he turned over to face them.

“Hi,” Remus greeted, sitting up a little. It was James, and he didn’t say hello back. In fact, he didn’t even smile, just stared at him. His expression didn’t give anything away, but since he was on his own, and wasn’t greeting Remus with any sort of smile or gesture, Remus was already unnerved.

“What’s wrong?” Remus asked. James shifted in the seat he was sitting in.

“I don’t have long,” he began. “Madam Pomfrey said I was allowed five minutes.”

“Okay.”

“I didn’t want to tell the others until I’d checked you were here. You are here.”

“Tell the others what, what are you on about?” The feeling Remus had experienced back in the Shack was creeping back up on him from where he’d shoved it to the back of his head. He still couldn’t put his finger on what was causing it, but he couldn’t help but feel that he was about to find out.

“You were there, in the Shack last night. Or at least, it wasn’t you, it was a monster. But you weren’t in bed, I checked, and now you’re here—” James started talking faster as he continued his explanation, and while his thoughts seemed to be all jumbled up, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was talking about. Remus’s heart plummeted, and he felt a wave of deja vu from when Tobin had figured out his secret. Although, this time it was even worse, because it was James. And no doubt it would be Sirius and Peter soon because James would never keep anything from them, least of all something this big.

His friends had found out he was a werewolf. Remus had failed in hiding it from them, and who knew what their reactions would be. Unless, he could convince James that it was just a coincidence. That it wasn’t him in the Shack. It couldn’t have been too hard...

“James, slow down. I don’t know what you’re saying.” James took a breath, and tried to put his words in order.

“Last night, in the Shack, there was something there. A werewolf, I think. It looked like one, and it was a full moon.” So James had definitely seen him. Remus was collecting as much information as he could before he decided what to say to him, whether to lie to his friend or not.

“Hold on... what were you doing at the Shack last night?”

“I got sick of people calling me a scaredy cat or whatever. I wanted to prove to them I wasn’t, so I went back. I was going to go inside, but I saw... you through the window.” Typical. The one night Remus transformed in the front room, and it was the night James went snooping around through the window overlooking it.

“Why do you think it was me? I was here all night.”

“No you weren’t. I checked. When I got back to the dorm I saw you weren’t there and I checked. There’s no point lying, Remus. I just can’t believe it took so long for me to figure it out. It all makes sense! Why you’re in here all the time, and it was always on the full moon, wasn’t it? I never really noticed, but it was!”

“James, stop! You don’t know what you’re on about. Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?” It was a stupid thing to say, but Remus knew there was nothing else he could say, and truth was… he didn’t want to. He never thought about the long term, because he never thought he’d have such close friends, but he wanted to be friends with James and Sirius and Peter forever, he knew that. He couldn’t lie to them forever, and the longer he kept it up for, the more they’d hate him for it.

But he wasn’t prepared for what the outcome might be when they knew, even if he didn’t have a choice in the matter anymore. He regretted asking if James had just been dreaming, though, once he saw the look on his face.

“Why won’t you just tell me?” asked James, looking hurt that Remus was accusing him of making things up. Tobin had been the same of course, and Remus didn’t know why he kept thinking he could get away with it.

“Because if it got out, my life would probably be ruined.” James looked a little taken aback, both from the resigned admittance and from the bluntness of the statement.

“So... it was you?” Remus sighed.

“Yeah. It was. You’re right, I’m a werewolf.”

“Oh.” Oh? What did that mean? Was that good or bad?

“I wanted to tell you, of course I did.” Which wasn’t fully true, because he knew if there was any opportunity not to ever tell his friends, he’d probably take it. “But I was too scared. You must know how the wizarding world sees werewolves, right? We’re monsters, half-breeds. Banned from school and jobs and everything.” James scooted his chair closer.

“Is it really that bad?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“Worse. I don’t even know why I’m at Hogwarts to be honest. Dumbledore let me come, but by rights I shouldn’t be here. Everyone hates me.”

“I don’t hate you.” Remus looked up at him, meeting his eyes.

“You don’t?”

“No. Of course not, you’re still Remus and I know you’re not dangerous. And... I suppose I understand why you didn’t tell us.”

“I should say, Tobin already knows—” James’s eyebrows raised in surprise, and Remus interrupted before James could get angry at the news that Tobin knew before he— Remus’s best friend— did. “I didn’t tell him, he just found out. I didn’t have a choice.” James leant back and ran a hand through his messy hair, thinking.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have a choice this time either,” he said, with no note of anger in his voice anymore. Remus lifted his knees to his chest.

“I do,” he replied. “I can choose to tell Sirius and Peter, and I want to.”

“You do?” Remus nodded. He couldn’t not tell them by this point, and at least this way it was finally on his terms. It made him think about telling them that he was trans too, but... one secret at a time. He just hoped they’d understand why he took so long to tell them when the time came. If the time came.

“Yeah, I do. I’ll tell them tomorrow.” At that moment, Madam Pomfrey— who luckily hadn’t heard a word they’d said (she always retired to her office when people visited so they could talk in peace)— came bustling in through the curtain pulled around Remus’s bed and shooed James out of the room. As a result, they didn’t have a chance to talk anymore, but it didn’t matter, because they could talk tomorrow. They could all talk. And Remus could finally explain everything.

He just hoped by this point tomorrow, Sirius and Peter wouldn’t be terrified of him.

Chapter Text

Remus wanted to tell Sirius and Peter at the end of the day, for no specific reason, except that the end of the day just felt like the right time. He needed the rest of the day just to build up the courage, but he knew he couldn’t chicken out because James was already expecting him to tell them. Of course, he knew James would probably understand if he decided not to go for it, because so far he’d been pretty understanding about everything, but Remus needed the motivation. So he told himself that James would be annoyed at him if he didn’t tell their friends.

He tried to avoid James that day, not because anything had happened to their friendship; James had been great, and Remus was undeniably grateful for his reaction to the news that he was a werewolf, but Remus also knew that James would still have a lot of questions. Remus didn’t want to answer them until Sirius and Peter knew, because then he’d have to keep repeating himself, and there’d be a lot to repeat.

It was another motivation though, because he didn’t want to avoid James for long. It wouldn’t be fair.

“Hey,” Remus said, getting James’s attention. It was after dinner, nearly time for Remus to sit Sirius and Peter down, and he wanted to catch up with James just before. They were outside the Great Hall, Sirius and Peter having already gone on ahead, and Remus pulled James into a secluded corridor just off the main one. “Before I tell them I just... I wanted to say thanks.”

“For what?”

“For not telling them yourself. You could’ve, but you didn’t. I appreciate it.” James fiddled with his sleeve, seemingly unwilling to accept the thank you.

“I... was going to.” He admitted. “I just wanted to check I was correct first.”

“Oh, well.” Remus didn’t think it made much of a difference, because James still could have told them, and no matter the motivation, the point was he hadn’t. “Even so. I appreciate you keeping it to yourself.”

“If they’re not okay with it, I still am,” James suddenly interrupted. “In case you were worried. You’ll still have a friend, whatever happens.” Remus was surprised at the feeling in James’s voice, and weirdly Remus felt like hugging him, simply because he couldn’t believe James was still his friend at all, let alone a loyal one.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do. I think it’s cool you’re a werewolf!”

“Well, I guarantee it’s not very cool to be a werewolf.”

“Right. Yeah, sorry.” Remus settled for a light punch on the shoulder to show his thanks for everything, deciding against a hug. A hug was too dramatic, and he didn’t want to make this into a big deal, even if it was one.

“Sirius and Peter’ll be waiting for us,” he said. “We should go.” James nodded, and the two walked back together, with Remus mentally preparing himself for the coming hours. He didn’t think there was any going back now.

He wished they could find a place in the castle where the four of them could sit and talk without the risk of being overheard. As it went, their only option was the dorm room after everyone else had gone to sleep, which still wasn’t entirely risk-free since anyone could come downstairs at any moment. It wasn’t safe enough for what Remus had to say.

So perhaps then was as good time as any to find this potential hiding place for them to meet in. And the good thing about Remus’s friend group was that he could easily put forward this idea without any questions asked, especially when James backed up the idea as well.

“It would be cool!” he claimed. “We talk all the time, so we need a place to do it in. It would be a place we could work on the map as well.” Peter liked the idea, and Sirius agreed to anything that involved sneaking out of the dorm.

“We’ll take the map with us,” Sirius suggested. “If we come across any new passages, we can draw them in.”

So, armed with the map and the invisibility cloak, they set off on another nightly wander, with the end goal being a revelation that one of them was a werewolf.

It was harder to find a good place than they thought, because every room tended to be inhabited at some time or another, and they needed a room that was empty at any moment when needed. If they ever did come across such a room, it would turn out to be a place that was a regular haunt— no pun intended— of one of the Hogwarts ghosts.

They did, however, obtain a wider picture of the Hogwarts layout and came across a few passages they hadn’t known about before. They had the map open underneath the cloak, following it closely now that they had deviated from their usual, short routes. Every time they came across a new corridor, Peter was able to quickly sketch it with a pencil he’d bought along with him. Pencils were easier for portability, while he could use a quill and ink later when he had the opportunity to refine his sketches.

One passage they hadn’t come across before was entered down a very narrow, winding stairway, which must have passed by the dungeons, but they didn’t see any indication of this. There were no windows to see if they were underneath the Great Lake, which was where the dungeons overlooked. Or at least it was where the Slytherin dorms apparently overlooked, according to Sirius.

They found themselves in a thin passageway, unlit, so they had to use their wands. Peter was scribbling frantically behind them as they wandered down the corridor to try and find any doors leading to any rooms. Eventually there was a door, which they almost ran into due to the sparse amount of light, right at the end of the corridor. It wasn’t locked, either, which meant it probably wasn’t important. That was already a good sign.

They opened the door, and the lights from their wands uncovered a room with even more good signs. It looked completely abandoned. Some old classroom that was no longer used, with tables stacked up at the sides of the room, covered in a thick layer of dust. There was a window in here, and judging by the deep black seeping through, too black to be the normal outside surroundings, it overlooked the Great Lake. So they were in the dungeons. Perhaps this was an old potions classroom.

“This place is creepy,” remarked Peter in a whisper. He was still sketching from behind them, and Remus caught a glimpse of a miniature version of the stacked desks on the piece of paper.

“It’s perfect,” said James. “No one must come here.”

“I have no idea how we got here though,” murmured Sirius. “Thank god we have the map. You got it down, didn’t you, Pete?” Peter nodded.

“Yep. All here. It’s not actually that far. I think we walked in circles for a bit before going downstairs.”

“We need more light though,” added Remus. “It’s way too dark even with our wands.”

“We can work that out another time,” said Sirius. “We just needed to find the place. We can head back now.”

“Uh, no, actually...” Remus almost forgot he had to talk to them, which he couldn’t believe was even possible since it was practically all he could think about for the past twenty four hours. “I need to talk to you and Peter about something.”

“What?” Sirius came forward, while Peter— who was now sitting on the floor in order to rest the parchment against the ground— briefly looked up from the map.

“Well, sit down first and I’ll tell you.” Sirius sat down next to Peter, while James leant against the nearest wall. Remus sort of stood there as if he were about to conduct a class, which made him even more self-conscious, so he sat down instead, at eye-level to the others and took a deep breath.

“Okay, so... There’s something I’ve been needing to tell you. About... well, James found out about it yesterday, so it’s only fair you know as well.”

“Know what?” asked Sirius, not taking his eyes off Remus.

“You know the howling that James said he heard from the Shrieking Shack?”

“Yeah.” Peter nodded along. Remus took a deep breath in to calm himself.

“It was real,” he said. “There really was a howling noise, and it came from a werewolf.” He paused for a bit to let the information sink in, and the others didn’t speak either. They continued looking at him though, which was rather uncomfortable.

“What are you on about?” Peter finally said.

“Are you just fucking with us?” That was Sirius, and among all the thoughts zooming through Remus’s head, he couldn’t help but recognise how much Sirius swore nowadays. He didn’t used to, what with growing up in such an uptight environment, but two years with Remus had an effect. Remus’s vocabulary was rubbing off on him.

“No, I’m not. I promise.”

“Are you sure? Because we’re in a dark room in the dungeon, perfect place to try and scare us.”

“I’m not trying to scare you.”

“Did James put you up to this—?”

“Sirius, shut up. He’s not lying.” James went to sit down as well, his face illuminated by the wand lights. Clearly there was something in his expression that made Sirius shut up, because he turned back to Remus and allowed him to continue.

“I’m not. It was a werewolf. And the werewolf was me. I’m a werewolf.” He said it as bluntly as possible to avoid any misunderstanding. It was out in the open now and he couldn’t take it back.

“You’re... what?” Sirius looked shocked, as was to be expected. Peter just looked scared, which didn’t fill Remus with a whole lot of hope.

“I’m a werewolf. I transform every full moon, which is why I’m always in the hospital wing. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, it’s just... people don’t tend to be accepting of werewolves. I was worried you’d stop being my friends.”

“And James already knows?” Sirius turned to James then, who nodded.

“Yeah, I found out last night. I went to the Shrieking Shack and caught him.”

“What were you doing there?”

“Long story, not important. Keep going, Remus.”

“I don’t really have much else to say. I guess if you have any questions?” Which was an understatement. Sirius and Peter must have been bursting with questions, but Peter asked the one question that made Remus suppress a wince.

“Are you dangerous?” His voice was quiet, slightly high-pitched. A sure sign that he was nervous.

“You’ve known me two years, have I ever done anything to hurt anyone?” They all shook their heads. “I’m not dangerous. Unless I’m in my wolf form but I stay in the Shrieking Shack then and I don’t go near anyone. Other than that, I’m still me. I’m just... Remus. You know?”

“We know,” assured James, but it wasn’t his response Remus was looking for. Sirius wasn’t really talking anymore.

“How did you become a werewolf?” asked Peter. “You have to be bitten, don’t you?” James smacked him on the shoulder.

“You can’t ask that.” Peter shrunk back.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s alright,” said Remus. As much as he hated recalling the night he became a werewolf, he needed to start somewhere. He hoped they wouldn’t ask too many questions, because there was rather a lot of information.

“I was bitten when I was five, by a werewolf named Fenrir Greyback.”

“I know him,” interrupted Sirius, and his voice was even quieter than Peter’s. “I mean, I don’t know him personally of course, my parents would never let someone like him near the house but—” he stopped, realising what he had said.

“Someone like him?” Sirius backed down immediately, looking more guilty than Remus had ever seen him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think...”

“That’s why I didn’t want to say anything. People like your family don’t want anything to do with people like me. No one in the wizarding world does. Read any article written about werewolves in any magical newspaper and none of it is good.” Remus didn’t want to go into an angry rant about the wizarding world at the moment, but Sirius had struck a cord in him. “And it’s all bullshit. Fenrir Greyback was an arsehole, but that’s just because he was, not because he was a werewolf. He tried to kill people because he’s a bad guy, not because he was a werewolf—” Remus stood up roughly and walked to the other side of the room, away from the wand lights. He was surprised to find himself holding back tears, but they were angry tears. He was unleashing things he’d never talked about out loud before, and he needed to calm down before he did something he’d regret.

Sirius came over, not speaking immediately.

”Is that where you got your scars?” He asked, so softly that Remus barely heard it. All Remus did was nod, realising that his friends had never actually asked him where his scars came from until now. They had just accepted them, without question. Sirius rested a hand on Remus’s shoulder.

“I’m really sorry,” he said. “About what happened to you, and about what I said, and about what people think.”

“I’m not dangerous,” whispered Remus, praying that his voice wouldn’t break. “I’m just a werewolf, and I’m still me. There’s nothing different and... there’s nothing wrong with me.” He dropped his head down, failing to stop the few tears caught on his eyelashes from falling down his cheek. He was still hidden in darkness, but Sirius seemed to sense that he was crying, because he pulled him into a hug, warm and tight. Remus’s head was buried in his friend’s shoulder, but he forced himself to stop crying. He wasn’t about to weep into Sirius’s robes in a dramatic display of emotion, he just liked the hug. It was comforting, and it said everything that needed to be said.

Peter and James finally joined them, and the four boys stayed together for a few moments in comfortable silence.

“Shall we go back now?” James eventually suggested. They all agreed, and Peter went to pick up the map while James took out the invisibility cloak to throw over them. Nothing else was said, and nothing else needed to be said. They huddled together under the cloak, with Peter holding the map in one hand and a pencil in the other. James led the group, and Sirius and Remus stayed together at the back. Nothing had changed.

Except… Remus felt Sirius slip a hand into his, squeezing in assurance. It was only a few seconds long before Sirius pulled away, but Remus couldn’t stop thinking about it. He couldn’t believe he’d finally opened up to his friends about being a werewolf, and he couldn’t believe the weight that had been lifted from his shoulders. No more lying to them about why he was in the hospital wing, or sneaking out without them knowing. No more wondering how they’d react if they found out, because it was over with now. And they were still his friends.

Of course, there was nothing fun about Sirius admitting that his family didn’t accept werewolves, but by this point that was only to be expected. Basically anything Sirius said about his family made Remus want to wince, and Sirius’s choice of words was usually questionable, but Sirius was learning at least. He’d been the one to hug Remus after all, to hold his hand. Remus knew people who’d probably shrink away from touching him after finding out he was a werewolf, so he supposed it was time to give Sirius some credit, without always thinking about his family first.

It was the first night Sirius crawled into bed with him, which was unexpected to say the least, but Remus didn’t protest. He just moved over and let Sirius lie down next to him, similar to when they had been in the astronomy tower together.

“I don’t see you any differently, in case you were worried,” whispered Sirius.

“Good.”

“And my family... are shit. Really. I hate them.”

“I’m not asking you to hate your family.”

“I know. I’m beginning to realise it myself. I realise that they haven’t done anything good for me, and I hate them.” Remus turned to face him, but Sirius’s eyes remained on the ceiling. He was glaring hard, unblinkingly at the crimson material overhead, and his eyes were glinting. Remus could see what he was doing because he’d done it himself about an hour ago. He was trying not to cry. Understandable, when you never expect there to come a point where you have to admit that you hate your family.

“Even Regulus?” It wasn’t a prompt, Remus wasn’t trying to force Sirius to hate anybody. It wasn’t his place to do so. He was just curious.

“I don’t know,” admitted Sirius. “I just know that I hate my mum, and my dad, and my cousins and everyone who thinks they’re better than everyone just because they’re a stupid pureblood—” he turned over to his side, facing away from Remus and clinging onto a pillow, talking through his teeth. Like Remus in the abandoned classroom, Sirius was clearly letting out things he’d been holding onto for a while now. “Who gives a shit if you’re pureblood, it doesn’t make you a better wizard. Why are they so obsessed?”

“Who?” Remus knew who of course, but he thought he might as well encourage Sirius to open up.

“My family. They’re obsessed, it’s all they think about. They hate everyone who isn’t pureblood and it’s bullshit. What’s wrong with muggles anyway? They have better music, and they have cooler stuff. They live without magic while my parents couldn’t last five minutes.” He sat up, his anger now making him restless, and he crossed his arms to his chest. He didn’t say anything else, although Remus was sure he had a lot more to get off his chest. He didn’t really know how else to help.

“You should stay with me during the holidays,” said Remus. It wasn’t a fully serious suggestion, just something he wished could happen, but Sirius’s expression changed dramatically and it looked as if he were properly considering it.

“Why can’t I?” He asked.

“Well... .” Obviously, now that Sirius knew he was a werewolf, that helped a little on the invitation front, but Remus’s mother didn’t know that Sirius knew, and Remus wasn’t about to tell her. Not only that, but just because Sirius knew, didn’t mean Remus wanted him to be around when he transformed. He didn’t want Sirius to see him like that. “It would be too complicated. Things are a bit, up in the air at home right now.”

“In what way?”

“Well, for starters. My parents have probably split up.” Sirius raised his eyebrows.

“What do you mean probably?”

“I mean they have split up but they won’t admit it to themselves yet. Despite the fact that they’re not even living together anymore.” He rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness of it now that he’d said it out loud.

“I must admit, I don’t really know your parents, but I’m sorry anyway.”

“Yeah, it’s not as bad as I expected to be honest. I don’t know why people make such a big deal about it. It’s more peaceful.” They had both calmed down by now, and Sirius lay back down.

“I wish I could stay with you,” he mused. “I can’t stay with James often because my parents don’t really approve of him.”

“But he’s part of the sacred twenty eight, isn’t he?”

“Actually no, he’s not. Everyone thinks that because his family’s pureblood, and we are kind of from the same blood line, but he’s not part of the twenty eight. His parents are nothing like mine. They don’t care about blood status, and they’re rich because his dad invented this hair gel—”

“What?” Sirius let out a laugh.

“Ironic, isn’t it? Considering how messy James’s hair is. But point is, my parents think they’re soft. They think they’re muggle sympathisers.”

“Are they?”

“Well, they certainly don’t dislike muggles, and they never told James to. Which is enough for my parents to disapprove of them.”

“No offence, but I don’t think I ever want to meet your parents.” Remus said it as bluntly as he said everything else. He might as well be honest.

“None taken. I wouldn’t want you to meet them either.” The two fell silent. A lot had been said between them in one night. All their secrets had been spilled.

Well, almost all of them. But Remus didn’t know if now was a good time to tell Sirius he was trans, since everything else had already been laid out in the open, or if it was a bad time because too much had already been said. He didn’t have an option to decide though, because when he looked over at Sirius, his friend had his eyes closed, and his breathing was growing steady. Remus sighed, and settled beside him, the two falling asleep in the same bed together.

Remus could tell him another time.

Chapter Text

Remus was allowed to spend the Christmas holidays at Hogwarts as long as he came home for Christmas Day, which he happily agreed to. He wanted to see his grandparents and his aunt and uncle, but he also wanted to spend the holidays with his friends, so it was a good compromise. Sirius was staying, and so was James while his parents went away. With a bit of convincing, Peter was able to join them, so it was a fun atmosphere. All four of them together, without lessons and without homework.

In fact, it was quite a full school that year, mostly down to those with muggle families or family members, because tensions outside of Hogwarts were starting to get increasingly prevalent. Muggle attacks were becoming more frequent, and Lord Voldemort’s followers were getting more and more restless. People stayed at Hogwarts for their own safety. Tobin was one of those people, and Owain and Jethro stayed behind so they could all stay together, so the Gryffindor second year dorm room was completely full. Lily was another muggleborn who was staying at Hogwarts for her own safety, although she walked around more nervously these days, worried about her own family who didn’t have the safety of Hogwarts to protect them.

Remus, therefore, allowed her refuge in the group of boys so she could be distracted by their own activities. It offered her a chance to get to know the others more, rather than just Remus. She got on well with Peter, and Sirius somewhat, although she had admitted to Remus once that she basically saw Sirius and James as clones of each other.

“Too confident for their own good,” was her conclusion. Remus couldn’t help but agree, but in more of a fond way than Lily. It was true, after all, that they were usually the loudest in whatever group of people they were in. They were also the most competitive. When Jethro set up a game of spin the dreidel, the two got pretty heated over it. They were all using knuts as game pieces, and every time Sirius and James had to either put a knut in the pot or take one out, everyone in the near vicinity knew about it.

That being said, their shouts eventually become unnoticeable, since they were playing in the Great Hall and it piqued the interest of people sitting around doing nothing. According to Jethro, there was essentially an unlimited amount of players allowed, so by the time the students had to disperse to their dorms at least twenty people were partaking, and everyone was getting invested, shouting over each other’s heads. Various cheers and groans went up from the group whenever someone won a round, which happened when someone span the dreidel and it landed on the Hebrew letter gimel (which Jethro said meant “everything”). When that happened, the person got everything in the pot. James managed it a few times, and hardly anyone lost because there were eventually so many pieces that it was difficult to lose all of them.

Sirius lost, but he begged Remus for a loan, and Remus couldn’t exactly refuse because he and Sirius (and Peter and James) were on an unspoken team of their own. If any of them asked for a loan, they had to agree. So Remus gave him half his pieces, which only ended up being two. Sirius landed on the letter meaning “put in” twice, and he quickly lost his remaining pieces. He was the only one there to have lost twice, but he still had James and Peter as a back up, so he managed to remain in the game until it ended. He even ended up with quite a few knuts.

The ultimate winner, who was the person who won the round before six o’clock and before they were all ushered out of the hall, was the Gryffindor prefect Arthur Weasley. He left with fifteen knuts and looked very proud of himself, puffing his chest out in a rather comical fashion.

The first full moon after the others found out that Remus was a werewolf was at the end of December, a few days after Christmas. Remus had spent the day with his family, and luckily there were no arguments this year. Now that his parents were living apart, they were able to be amiable on the days they did spend together, so Remus could enjoy his Christmas at least. He did miss the others though, and he had to wait until the next day to give them presents. His gift to Sirius was a portable radio, which aunt Selene had charmed so that it worked in Hogwarts. Remus turned it over to Radio 1, which played all the current songs for Sirius to keep up with.

As for Remus, Selene bought him a recent David Bowie album. Remus had heard a few David Bowie songs on the radio before and he liked the sound of them, so he asked Selene about it. Selene said she hadn’t heard much of David Bowie, but his genre of music was definitely her sort of style.

Besides, Remus liked the title of the album: The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. It was so long, and it made no sense, but that was exactly why Remus liked it. He was sure Sirius would like it too. He had listened to the album during the evening before he went back to Hogwarts, lying on the carpet as he always did. He didn’t want to take it to school with him, in case something happened to it. He’d brought back Atom Heart for that very reason and it was now sitting on his shelf along with all the other albums he had. It was a growing collection, and he was taking a pride in it that he’d never done before. A small part of him kept imagining a time when Sirius could visit his house, and Remus would be able to show off the collection, ordered alphabetically with every cover pristine. He could pull any one of the albums off his shelf and explain the history of it. He wasn’t a chaotic sort of punk like he imagined his aunt to be, albums in a pile on top of a record player, to be played whenever music was needed. Remus was someone who was more into learning about the music than the music itself, memorising release dates and vinyl types and stories behind why an album was written, such as how Frank Sinatra wrote In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning because of his divorce to his wife Nancy and his new marriage to Ava Gardner.

Remus could act as punk as he liked, but at the end of the day, he was innately studious, fascinated with the more intellectual side of things. In other words, he was a nerd, while Sirius cared only about the music and how it made him feel, and how he could use it to express his own anger. He was much more of a punk than Remus was, and he didn’t even know it.

The full moon was a little complicated this time, simply because the others wanted to come along as well, once Remus had told them about the passage to the Shrieking Shack. Them coming along was completely out of the question, but they were adamant they didn’t want him to be on his own.

“I’ve been doing it on my own for two years now, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, but wouldn’t it be fun with us with you?” asked Sirius.

“I don’t think anything can make it fun.”

“Please let us come,” said James. “We can add the passage to the map, and we’ll only go so far as the tree. Then we’ll turn back.”

“I already know the passage, the map won’t be useful. Unless it can tell us when someone’s coming, because then that would be useful.” The others wouldn’t let up, though. They wanted to stick by his side and act like they were exploring, so Remus had no choice but to agree.

“But only until we reach the tree. Then you turn back, and you can’t be there first thing tomorrow because Madam Pomfrey will catch you.” They agreed to his conditions, and as it went, it was nice having them with him. They had the cloak as well, which made the trip much safer. Remus had never plucked up the courage to use the cloak in case he lost it, or ripped it. James would never forgive him if that happened, so he was always exposed when he went to the Shack, but now he was fully hidden, and the company was just a bonus.

It was probably one of the most enjoyable full moons Remus had gone through, as enjoyable as a full moon could be.

January finally arrived, in a haze of excitement and nervousness from James, who had to face the ever-nearing Quidditch match. His first Quidditch match, in front of the whole school. It involved around a week of James barely talking, which was a feat on his part. The whole school was tense in anticipation, especially the Gyriffindors, who were desperate to beat the Slytherin team for once. They were all riled up, and when the day finally came, no one could concentrate in class. This ended in Professor McGonagall telling them off and stubbornly not letting them leave class until the last minute, since her class was the last before the Quidditch match began. James practically ran out of the room when the lesson was finally dismissed, and Marlene and Jethro weren’t far behind.

Most of the school were naturally present at the match, and all the Gryffindors were already shouting and cheering, or jeering if they caught sight of a Slytherin player. Remus, Sirius and Peter squeezed through the crowd, ducking under red and gold flags and scarves. The noise levels were unmeasurable, and all Remus could do was find a seat next to his classmates and join in. Tobin and Owain were waving their own flags, cheering loudly, while Peter unfolded a hand-drawn sign encouraging James, Jethro and Marlene. Lily found them and sat down with her friend Mary and a third year girl who was introduced as Dorcas Meadows. Dorcas had one of those wooden rattles that made a noise when you spun it. It was painted red and yellow, and they all took turns spinning it out of fun.

“And they’re off!” The already loud stadium somehow reached new levels as the players set off, flying around so quickly they became a blur. Lily had binoculars, and she was passing them around so everyone could keep their eyes on certain players. The Gryffindor seeker, a fifth year named Sam Zhao, was hovering a good few feet above the pitch, away from the other players as he searched for the snitch. The Slytherin seeker, whom Remus didn’t know the name of, was in a similar position. Remus, however, was more invested in the other players, especially James. He watched him zoom around with the Quaffle under his arm, passing it to the other Chasers to try to make a goal. He had said before the match that he would mostly just pass to someone else to make the goal, so he didn’t have to face the humiliation if he missed the goal himself.

Marlene had the opposite tactic, and was always open, ready for someone to pass the Quaffle to her. But it was Hestia Jones who did most of the work, scoring as many goals as she could, so Marlene didn’t get much of a chance to attempt a goal herself. When she did, it was blocked by the Slytherin keeper, Richard Gibbon.

Jethro was doing a good job blocking the goalposts from the Slytherin team, and at one point he threw the Quaffle back so hard towards the Slytherin chaser— who Remus recognised to be one of the Carrows— that it knocked the guy off-balance and he wasn’t able to catch it. James zoomed after it instead and managed to grab it so him and Jethro together promoted a loud cheer from their classmates, and the rest of Gryffindor. The noise from the Gryffindor side of the stadium drowned out the boos from the Slytherin side.

“New Chaser McKinnon passes the Quaffle to Jones,” commentated Dave Cohen, whom Remus was listening intently too, absorbing the technique as he always did. The match was as quick as any professional match but Remus could keep up with it, as long as he invested himself in it to the point where his surroundings melted away, and all he could see was the game. Jones throws the Quaffle, but it’s blocked by Gibbon who throws it to Carrow, and a bludger hit by Goyle, the Slytherin beater, rockets past Potter, missing him by a hair.

Remus didn’t notice the yell of outrage from Sirius beside him. He was muttering under his breath, joining in with the commentary as he always did which he barely registered himself. He usually assumed he was talking in his head until someone nudged him on the shoulder and asked what he was whispering about. But everyone next to him was too invested in the match as well, so no one noticed.

“Jones passes the Quaffle to new Chaser Potter who throws it and... he makes the goal! Ten points to Gryffindor!” Remus finally snapped out of his commentator mode and stood up with the rest of his class, cheering on their friend and team. Sirius grabbed the wooden rattle from Lily, who was currently holding it, and spun it frantically in everyone’s ears. Everyone was too excited to really care, and even Lily wasn’t that huffy about having the rattle snatched from her hands, but Remus was concerned that their ears would be permanently damaged if Gryffindor won the match and Sirius had his hands on that thing.

They didn’t have to wait too long to find out though, because at that moment, Sam Zhao suddenly dived head first from where he’d been observing, with the Slytherin seeker hot on his heels as soon as he spotted him.

“And Zhao must have spotted the snitch!” informed Dave Cohen, with him (and Remus) noticing before anyone else did. “He dives for it, Rowle close behind, can Zhao catch it in time?” Everyone in the stands was now fixated on the two seekers. Zhao was barely a metre in front of Rowle, and he had to pull up quickly before hitting the ground and continue chasing the snitch around the rest of the pitch. It was extremely tense, and no one knew whether to shout encouragement or to hold their breath in expectation, so there was a bit of both. Remus was of the holding his breath group of people, while Sirius was shouting beside him.

“Zhao reaches his arm out, he’s making the grab and—” Zhao dodged out the way of Rowle coming up behind him, stopping mid-air as he held his hand out. He showed off the snitch to the onlooking stands, and a huge cheer went up, intermingled with Slytherin groans of disappointment.

“And Zhao catches the snitch! That’s one hundred and fifty points for Gryffindor, immediately winning them the match!” Barely anyone heard Dave Cohen, because the Gryffindor side of the stands were going crazy, and even the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws watching were joining in with the elation, simply glad that Slytherin had lost. Sirius threw his arms around Remus and cheered. Thankfully for Remus’s ears, Lily had taken back the rattle and was spinning it wildly in a blur. Sirius’s hug became a group hug as everyone near them joined in, Peter and Tobin and Owain. Remus caught the eye of James, who was equally celebratory. He’d made a goal and Gryffindor had won. Remus knew he’d be on top of the world right now, and probably would be for at least another week, possibly more. It was a given that a party would be held in the Gryffindor dorm room later that evening, and Remus was already excited, because chances were he and his friends would be more involved in it considering James, Jethro and Marlene were all on the team. He’d only experienced one Gryffindor party after a match win, last year when they’d all been in first year, and none of the older kids had wanted them hanging around, so they just stuck to the sides of the room and soon lost interest. None of them were brave enough to try to talk to anyone older than them, so there wasn’t much they could do.

But this time was drastically different. The Gryffindors returned to the common room in a blur of excitement, even though it was only the first match of the year, they were acting as if they’d won the Cup. The adrenaline from beating Slytherin had kicked in, and music was put on loudly, snacks were handed around, and someone had clearly been stashing enough butterbeers and firewhiskeys somewhere because within a matter of minutes half the dorm had a bottle in their hands.

The players were the guests of honour, especially Sam Zhao who was lifted up on his friend’s shoulder while everyone cheered around him. As the night went on, and the older kids got slightly tipsy, the celebration around the players increased, but sloppily so. Sam was practically wrestled to the floor at some point.

James, Marlene and Jethro had their fair share of congratulations, with James being handed a butterbeer and being patted on the back so much he stumbled over to his friends while massaging his shoulders.

“Want some?” James asked, holding out the butterbeer bottle.

“You ever drunk butterbeer?” said Sirius, raising his eyebrow at James’s apparent familiarity with the drink.

“No, but it’s barely got any alcohol in it. Just a sip will be fine.”

“Alright,” said Remus, who had tried the drink before when he was younger. He had been staying with Selene and Lyall’s mum for the weekend and Selene had let him try a bit. He hadn’t minded the taste, even if it was a bit sweet, in a sickly treacle-like way. Remus took the bottle from James and swigged it, instantly earning the respect from his peers. Even if the drink didn’t have much alcohol in it, to the point where they could probably drink around three or four and still barely feel the affects (although they’d end up very sick), any alcohol was cool to a bunch of twelve year olds who’d never had it before. Remus passed it round and they all took a sip. Peter hated it because it tasted like butterscotch and he didn’t like butterscotch. James was indifferent, Jethro refused, Tobin took way too much and got yelled at, Owain was in the bathroom, and Sirius hogged the bottle after one sip because he loved it. The others let him have it.

Remus separated from the group of boys for a bit and went over to Lily and Marlene, who were sitting on the sofa with their friends Mary and Dorcas. Owain was with them.

“What are you guys doing?” asked Remus.

“Playing exploding snap,” informed Lily. “And drinking butterbeer. Want one?”

“No thanks. Can I join?”

“Sure, we’re playing the Bavarian version,” said Dorcas. “Know it?”

“Yeah.” It was the version he played the most with the magical side of his family. Remus joined the circle, and Lily re-dealt the cards.

“The time limit gets shorter each go,” she reminded. Remus knew the rules: if any of the cards that each player was dealt matched any of the cards in the circle, they had to tap both cards with their wands. If you didn’t tap the matching cards within the time limit, they all exploded. It was the most difficult of all the versions because the time limit was so merciless, which was why the Lupin side of the family loved it so much.

The game got heated fairly quickly, purely out of panic from the players to not let the cards explode.

“Tap the bloody card, Marlene, you’ve got two seconds!”

“It’s right there, in front of your face!”

“Bloody cheat, that card doesn’t exist, the game’s rigged!”

“Shut up shut up tap the card—!” BANG! The cards exploded in front of them, and they all shielded their faces with their arms.

“So who won?” asked Remus lightly, when the smoke from the cards had cleared a little. He fanned the remnants with his hand.

“No one,” said Dorcas. “The cards exploded.”

“Well, I think I got the most matches.”

“Did you bollocks, you only got one and it took you five seconds to even notice.”

“At least I got one, you didn’t get anything.”

“I had shit cards—!”

“Guys... calm down, it’s a game,” interjected Lily, scooping up the singed cards and watching them shuffle each other by themselves. “Besides, you’re both wrong. I got the most matches.”

“Cheat!” Owain nudged her shoulder. “I saw the card first, I had the same one!”

“What’s going on over here?” They all looked up from where they were sitting on the floor. James was standing over them, arms on his hips.

“We were playing exploding snap,” informed Remus.

“Brilliant! Can I play? I’m great at it.”

“Of course you are,” muttered Lily, rolling her eyes. “I’ll deal you in.”

“Bring the others, we can all play,” Remus suggested, as James sat cross-legged beside them.

“What, even Sirius?” asked Marlene, not looking too happy by the prospect. “I like him an’ all but Merlin, is he competitive.”

“Nah, it’ll be fun!” assured James, and he looked over to where the other boys were standing. “Oi! Get over here, we’re playing snap!” His voice carried halfway across the room, and certainly grabbed the attention of those he was calling, as well as everyone else.

The circle increased, until there was barely room for all of them. Tobin was taking up too much space lying on his front and Sirius was rocking back and forth in concentration, determined to win. If the last round was intense, it was nothing compared to this round. They were lucky the music was so loud and the other students were too engrossed in drinking and dancing, otherwise they probably would have been kicked out. They argued throughout the entire game, talking over each other constantly, one voice starting before another one had ended. Everyone had complaints, and none of them were heard. And Sirius was not only a sore loser, but a pretty bad winner as well.

“Ha! In your faces!” he’d shout after successfully matching two cards together. “I am the best! The king! You wish you were this good!” He stood up, prancing about. The others, in a moment of unity, sacrificed their own eyebrows by starting a new round— unbeknownst to Sirius— and forgoing finding any pairs. The cards exploded, stopping Sirius in his tracks.

Despite the arguing, and the intensity, and singed hair, the game was fun. A weird sort of fun where shouting at each other formed a relatively strong bond. They were close enough to call each other names and slag each other off without affecting their friendships, and with the atmosphere filled with music and bottles of butterbeer, it was a great evening. Certainly the best party Remus had ever been to, even if, admittedly, he had only previously been to one.

The Gryffindor common room was a mess by the end of the night, but it wasn’t the problem of Remus and his friends. They hadn’t been the one to throw the party. Some older kid could sort it out with a wave of their wand. Meanwhile, Remus was exhausted, and judging by the others, they were as well. James was positively falling asleep where he stood, after all the excitement and activity of the day. He had to be half dragged upstairs by Sirius, who was really in no position to be carrying someone anyway considering he was in a similar state, made worse by all the butterbeers he’d had.

The boys said goodnight to the girls, and they all stumbled upstairs to their respective dorms. Remus barely acknowledged arriving to his bed before he flopped on top of it, front first, and almost immediately fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Little happened during the time leading up to March. James continued playing matches with Marlene and Jethro, winning some and losing some. His mood nowadays always seemed to be dependent on the outcomes of Quidditch matches, so he was either caught in a fantastic mood, grinning and bouncing around like he was floating on a cloud; or a filthy mood where he’d go quiet and snap at anyone who talked to him. Remus hoped it was only temporary, and once the novelty of being on the Quidditch team wore off, he’d calm down a bit, and wouldn’t feel like all Quidditch responsibilities fell onto his shoulders. Maybe then they could get some peace back.

Sirius was less reasonable about it though, which turned out to be quite helpful. After a particularly solemn day where they were all on edge around their friend, Sirius shoved James into an armchair in front of the Gryffindor fireplace and stood over him.

“Listen, Potter,” he began, immediately sounding like a fed up parent. “It’s shit that Gryffindor lost, but frankly you’re not going to win every time, so get over it, because you’re pissing me off.”

“That’s not fair, you know it’s important to me—”

“Yeah we know, but bloody hell, get a new thing then! If your whole life is being dictated by Quidditch then you’ve got a problem!” James didn’t have a retaliation, and while he sat fuming at the brief intervention, it did appear to eventually make him think first before taking his Quidditch grievances out on everyone around him. Only a bit, though. They were still a little on edge whenever Gryffindor lost a match.

That being said, James did have another thing to preoccupy his mind with: the map. He spent a lot of time pouring over it, asking Peter to draw more passages that he had remembered or discovered. His eyebrows were always knitted together and he scowled whenever he looked at it, thinking deeply and never satisfied with the finished product.

“It’s good,” he’d say. “But it’s not good enough. It just... isn’t useful enough.”

“Well, what else do you want?” asked Sirius, sitting at one of the creaky desks in the abandoned classroom. That was another thing that had been preoccupying them. The secret room. James went there all the time to study the map without any risk of prying eyes, and they usually joined him. They hadn’t exactly given it a makeover; all they’d done was move a few desks and chairs so they could sit down, dust them off, and bring a glass jar to keep a fire in for light.

“Remus, you said it would be useful if it could see when people were coming and going.”

“Yeah, but that would need way advanced magic, wouldn’t it?” James sighed and ran a hand through his hair, leaving it there as he thought.

“We’ll search the library,” he decided eventually. “That’s not all, though… I’m worried about people finding it. I think it needs to be more hidden.”

“What, find a hiding place for it?” asked Sirius.

“No I mean... a hiding place can be found. The map itself...” he trailed off and fell back into his head. He was getting quite worked up over it, so Remus walked over and tried to join in with working out something he didn’t even know was being worked out.

“You mean you want the stuff on it to be hidden?”

“Yeah, something like that, but I wouldn’t know how to do it.” Remus sat back in his chair, arms crossed to his chest and biting his lip. Sirius, who was milling about the room, spoke up from the shadows.

“Well, what about that spell that Remus did to hide the book he gave me.”

“The Alice in Wonderland book?” Remus asked, surprised that he’d forgotten all about it.

“Yeah, you know, how all the contents were erased until you said the password. Then it appeared again.” James immediately brightened up.

“There’s a spell for that?” He exclaimed. “It sounds perfect!”

“Yeah, Remus knows it.”

“No I don’t. My aunt did the spell, not me. It’s way too advanced.” James sunk back in his chair, disappointed.

“Well, can’t you just ask your aunt how to do it?” Peter suggested, finally joining in.

“Yeah, but doesn’t mean I’ll be able to do it if she just writes it down.”

“Worth a shot though.” Remus nodded, and James’s expectant look convinced him to write to aunt Selene as soon as possible.

Selene wrote a pretty detailed account of the spell, but said that if he wanted her to do it herself, she’d be happy to. Remus hadn’t told her what they were casting the spell on, and he was pretty certain that the others wouldn’t approve of him sending the map off to his unknown aunt, so he replied back and politely declined the offer.

Instead, he laid the letter out on the main table of the secret room, so all four of them could study the instructions.

It was a mixture of spells. A modification of a vanishing spell that responded to a password. The password would make the contents reappear, while a second password would make them disappear again (an instruction that Selene added, despite not having used it herself). What was tricky was casting a vanishing spell that depended on a password instead of a normal vanishing spell.

Apparently, for beginners, a potion was needed. Selene could do it easily with her wand, but the same couldn’t be said for her nephew and his friends. A potion would be easier to manage, but one which was difficult to find in the library, and demanded access to the restricted section. They had no problems with the restricted section of course, what with the cloak, and they were so used to sneaking out of their dorm at night by now that a trip to the library was nothing. They just had to be careful with their wand lights.

“What about this one?” whispered James. They were trawling through dark and dusty bookshelves, searching for a title that could help them. “Turning spells into potions by Armitage Arnoldii...” he handed his wand to Sirius and reached his arms out of the invisibility cloak to grab the leather-bound cover. They all had to cover their mouths and noses to stop the dust from choking them.

Moving over to the nearest desk, the book was placed on the wood with a dull thump.

“Why’s this in the restricted section?” asked Peter. “Seems fine enough.” James turned the page to the list of contents, trying to find a chapter that could help them. As he did, Remus skipped through the list himself and spotted a chapter labelled “Unforgivable curses” and pointed it out.

“Probably because of that,” he said, his finger on the chapter name.

“Wouldn’t want to know what those potions need,” replied Sirius darkly.

“How about this?” interrupted James, pointing at an earlier chapter. “Vanishing spells. That might have the potion.”

“What did your aunt say the potion was called?” asked Sirius.

“She didn’t. Said she didn’t know what it was called, because she just called it a vanishing potion.” They turned the heavy pages to the right section and began reading. Most of it was unhelpful; all it was were potions that you could drink to make yourself disappear. It was only near the very end of the chapter that Peter spotted a sub-section: “Password controlled vanishing spells”.

“This has to be it,” whispered James excitedly. There was only a few paragraphs explaining what the potion did; how it needed to be dripped onto whatever needed to vanish, and if the thing needed to reappear again with a different— or the same— password, a slightly different potion needed to be brewed. The last line explained how it was mainly used by those who couldn’t work advanced vanishing spells with their wands and needed the potion instead.

“Sounds like us,” said Sirius.

The next page, and the last page of the chapter, was a detailed list of ingredients and instructions for both variants of the potion.

“We can’t memorise it,” said Sirius. “Should we rip it out?”

“We can’t rip out a library book!” replied Remus. “We’ll get caught.”

“No one will know it’s us.”

“No, Remus is right,” interjected James. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there was some anti-vandalism spell on the books. Might stop us from ripping pages out.”

“Well, what do we do then?” They all sat in silence, thinking. The obvious answer was to take the book, but that was out of the question. Restricted books had to be checked out by a teacher, or with permission from a teacher, or else... well, no one really knew what happened because no one had tried it. But there was a rumour— that was treated as a fact— that the book would start screaming if it was stolen. Whether it was true or not, they didn’t want to find out.

“We’ll have to just copy it out,” said James. “Anyone got a piece of paper? And a quill?”

“Not unless you want to write on the map,” replied Peter. No one did.

“We can go back and get a piece, but it’s a bit annoying,” said Remus. “Unless we come back tomorrow.”

“No, it won’t take too long. We’ll just go back.” James was much too impatient to wait until tomorrow. They didn’t want to all go back, and it was better to have a lookout in the library to keep an eye on the book and the door. Remus was elected to return to the dorm, having the best knowledge of navigating the castle at night. It didn’t take him long. He was back in the library with a piece of paper and a quill within ten minutes.

James copied it out, entirely off his own accord, otherwise they never would have allowed it. His writing was illegible to everyone except him, and even then, sometimes even he couldn’t read what he’d written. McGonagall had taken it upon herself to give him a quill that improved handwriting, and Remus kicked himself for not picking it up from his trunk. They just had to hope that James would be able to read it later on.

There actually weren’t many ingredients, but they did need to steal a few items from the cupboard in the potions classroom. The wings of a peppered moth for example, which James refused to touch, and the nectar from a nightshade plant. For the second potion, which was basically the same, all they had to do was use the petals instead.

The main ingredient was a piece of parchment with the password written on it. How it was added to the potion differed between the potions. For the first potion, the piece of paper could be added and it would burn into ash from the potion itself. The second potion, on the other hand, wouldn’t burn it, so it had to be burnt separately and the ash was to be added. It wasn’t as complicated as they were expecting, although Remus didn’t trust himself to brew the potion with his rather flaky track record during potions class, but he wrote and burnt the pieces of parchment himself to at least be a little productive.

They had to come up with the two passwords though, which took up most of their time because none of them could agree on anything.

“Open sesame?”

“No way that’s boring.”

“Knock knock it’s us.”

“Open up… like your mum.”

“Piss off!”

Most of the time was used up from the boys being ridiculously immature and getting no closer to coming up with anything proper. Once they had finally calmed down from laughing and teasing each other, they sat back and thought about it for a while.

“What do we actually use the map for?” asked James eventually.

“For Remus to sneak out?” replied Sirius.

“So we have the password like... werewolf time,” suggested Peter, which made them fall back into uncontrollable giggles.

“IT’S WEREWOLF TIME!” Remus shoved James lightly to warn him not to be so loud, but he still found it funny. It was nice to feel like he’d reached a point where he could joke about being a werewolf with his friends.

“Full moon, baby!”

“Shut up, we can’t do that,” Remus said eventually. “Besides, we don’t use it just for that.”

“Yeah we use it to sneak out and stuff,” replied James. “Cause mayhem.”

“Hardly. More like... mischief.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I dunno, one’s wild and one’s... not.”

“What and sneaking out to the Shrieking Shack to find a werewolf isn’t wild?”

“Not really.”

“Let’s just say we don’t use it for good,” concluded Sirius.

“Sneaking out is good. For us, at least.”

“Yeah exactly, but not for the teachers.”

“What about this then?” interjected Peter with a suggestion: “Open up, we’re up to no good.”

“Not much of a password is it?” said Sirius, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head.

“It’s not really an order we need...” pondered James. “Like, we’re up to no good would be fine,”

“It’s a bit dull though,” replied Remus. “What about... I swear I’m up to no good.”

“I absolutely swear I’m up to no good.”

“I ridiculously a thousand percent swear I’m up to no good with sprinkles on top.”

“I’m definitely up to no good because your mum’s involved.” They were off again.

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good,” Sirius suddenly said through the revived teasings. They stopped to think about it, and their faces brightened up.

“I like it,” said James. “Do we like it?” They all nodded.

“What about the second one?” asked Peter.

“Oh, something short,” said Remus. “In case we need to hide it quickly.”

“Finished?” said Sirius.

“Are you asking me?”

“No, for the password.”

“No, because we could say that at any time.”

“Finished doing mischievous stuff,” James laughed, harking back to Remus’s mischief suggestion.

“Mischief managed,” said Peter, and they all looked at him. He stared back. “What?”

“That’s perfect!” They all finally agreed, and Remus was able to write the two passwords down on small corners of parchment, his handwriting as neat as possible to avoid any misunderstanding from the potion, just in case that was a risk. Everything became about ten times more exciting when the passwords were written down.

All in all, the potion brewing lasted as long as an average potion lesson, and they could easily do it during lunch break the following day. They brewed it in the secret room, giving it it’s first proper use. The map was open, waiting for the two potions to be poured onto it. None of them knew if it was going to work or not and they were pretty scared they’d ruin the map. After all that hard work they’d put into it, what if it went up in flames like the small pieces of parchment?

So Remus, who was the best at charms, had used the Geminio spell on the map to duplicate it. Both maps took up the entirety of the one table they had cleared in the room. They’d hadn’t opened it up fully for a while; last time they had there had been significantly less passages and rooms and corridors drawn on it. It had been much smaller then, but now it was something of a masterpiece, at least in their opinion. They couldn’t help but look down proudly at their handiwork for a bit.

“If only we put as much effort into homework as we did this,” commented Sirius. “We’d have graduated already.”

“It is good isn’t it,” said James. “Best thing we’ve ever done. Especially, Pete. Good on you, mate.” Peter’s ears blushed red at the compliment but he was clearly already bursting with pride at his own cartography skills, which he hadn’t even realised he had. It was slightly bittersweet for Remus, who had always had a slight fascination with maps. He was an expert at reading them, and he loved old maps with the creased, yellowy-brown paper and the illegible writing and the interesting doodles representing landmarks. When it came down to actually drawing the maps, however, he found he simply wasn’t able to draw what he visualised in his head. He could see the passages in his mind’s eye, but that’s about as far as he got. He couldn’t get his hand to draw what he saw. It was as if he lost the images the second his hand touched the paper, and it really annoyed him. But he supposed he should have been glad that he had Peter to draw what he visualised, and he couldn’t deny that Peter was good at it.

Remus took the first potion, which was technically the second (because they had to pour out the password that would make the map’s contents disappear first) and uncapped it with a small ‘pop!’. He smoothed the map out slightly for no real reason, if only to procrastinate; if he got this wrong he didn’t want to be the one who ruined the map.

“Hurry up, mate,” urged Sirius. Remus tipped the vial and watched the potion pour out, a stream of light purple, glinting with tiny spots of silver. It was prettier than Remus was expecting. As the potion flowed out onto the brownish paper, they watched as all the scribbles and drawings and doodles were erased in front of their eyes. It was pretty anxiety-inducing, in case the other potion didn’t bring it all back. Peter looked particularly tetchy.

“Pour the other one,” he said. The potion itself disappeared with the contents, so Remus thought it safe to pour the other one out; the book hadn’t said anything about how long they should wait before uncapping the next potion.

The second-slash-first potion was a deeper purple, and Remus did the exact same thing, pulling out the small cork and pouring it out. A beat passed, and to their relief the contents started to reappear, exactly the same as they had been, every doodle, scribble and ink stain in its rightful place. Once again the potion disappeared into the paper and it looked as if nothing had happened.

“Should we test it out?” whispered Sirius. They didn’t feel like they could dare raise their voices above a whisper. It was tense, especially since lunch was almost over and they really didn’t have much time to waste.

“Who wants to say it?” Remus asked.

“Oh bugger that, just say it.” Remus was pushed forward to the table edge and he stared down at the map. He took a breath, which felt a little over the top. If this didn’t work, it didn’t matter. They’d just go back to hiding the map as usual and maybe try again another time.

“Mischief managed.” He felt at least three hands grabbing at his arms excitedly, as they all stared fixated at the map. The contents started to disappear again, until all that was left was what looked like a blank pile of parchment paper.

“It worked!” shouted James. “Bloody hell, it actually worked!”

“We’re literally the smartest people alive,” deadpanned Sirius. Remus chuckled.

“Hang on, we need to try the other password.” Remus pushed Sirius forward in front of him. “You say it this time.”

“But– what if I get it wrong?”

“Don’t get it wrong then.” Sirius looked down and apparently copied Remus’s technique of taking in a breath first, putting off his attempt.

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” Not even a second passed before the corridors and the rooms and tiny little beds in the dorms re-emerged on the paper. It had worked. They had succeeded in their potion making and now they had a map that opened at their own command. They really did feel like the greatest people alive at that moment, even though their achievement was largely insignificant in a world of magic. It certainly didn’t feel like that to them. Pats on the back rippled throughout the small group and they were grinning like idiots, saying the passwords over and over again to admire their handiwork.

They had to leave for the next lesson soon, and they were almost late, preoccupied as they were with the map. Remus was the last to say mischief managed and James stashed the piece of parchment in his bag, a freedom he could now afford with the new password protection.

McGonagall wanted to know why they looked so happy as they bounced into the transfiguration classroom ten minutes later.

Chapter Text

The full moon was starting to make the entire friend group tetchy, which Remus had hoped to avoid. But there wasn’t much he could do about his friends’ concerns except assure them that he’d been transforming for years now and nothing had gone wrong (not really, anyway, but they didn’t need to know the details). They were worried about people discovering him, or Remus getting hurt, or— more innocently— Remus being lonely. Rather than comfort Remus in the thought that his friends cared about him, it set him more on edge than anything. He couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before their concern turned to annoyance and they’d consider him to be more trouble than it was worth. He was starting to convince himself that his friends would give up on him and leave him. Maybe they already found him irritating and were simply hiding it for now, but behind the scenes they were rolling their eyes and groaning at the thought of spending another full moon with him.

Remus was torn between letting them come with him to the Whomping Willow, wanting to alleviate their worries, but not wanting to ask too much of them. He hadn’t realised how dependent on his friends he had become, and the paranoia was keeping him up. Remus had always been like this, but not in the way he was now. Probably because the only people he had in his life before arriving at Hogwarts was his parents, and he knew it would take a lot for them to leave him. If he ever did become paranoid all he had to do was ask his mum if she still loved him and she fell all over him in a hug and as much assurance as he needed.

But his dad had left. He hadn’t left Remus as such, but it did feel like Remus’s fault. He was always self-conscious, that was for sure. Terrified of conflict with his father in case it made Lyall hate him. Remus treated his dad like a stranger or an acquaintance, someone who could easily be pissed off and not want to deal with you anymore. Someone who could walk away easily.

Now that his dad had walked away, Remus turned his attention to his friends. How long would they stick around?

“You guys really don’t have to worry about the full moon,” said Remus one night, desperate to put an end to their fears once and for all. “Just because you know about it now doesn’t mean it’s suddenly dangerous for me to be on my own.”

“I know, but it’s hard not to think of you out there with no protection,” replied James.

“I have plenty of protection, I’m a werewolf.” Remus kept his voice as low as possible, even though the common room was empty. You never knew who could be listening. “There’s really not much that can hurt me when I’m in my wolf form, especially not in the Shrieking Shack.”

“Why can’t we at least just walk you to the Whomping Willow?” Sirius asked.

“Because you’ll just risk all of us getting caught. It’ll do more harm than good.” They couldn’t argue with his points, so they reluctantly agreed to drop the subject entirely and let Remus continue the full moons on his own.

Half-term was nearly upon them, and Remus was trying to decide whether to stay with his mum or not for the two weeks, or stay at Hogwarts with the others. He didn’t think there was any need to stay at Hogwarts, and while he always missed his friends when he wasn’t with them, he decided they probably needed a break from him (him needing a break from them barely crossed his mind). Besides, he missed his mum too and they hardly saw each other anymore, so Wales it was.

But first, it was Remus’s birthday. The others still didn’t know when his birthday was, and he was even more determined to keep it that way. He knew they’d instantly make a fuss and want to throw some sort of party, but Remus just couldn’t be arsed. It was the last thing he wanted. At least his family knew about his reservations against birthdays and sent him little more than a card and a few small presents.

The best gift he received, which was technically a few days before his birthday, was Madam Pomfrey calling him into the hospital wing and informing him that he’d be allowed to take a higher dose before Easter. His maximum dose, in fact, now that he was about to be thirteen. It had been a year since he’d first taken the potion, and he was finally starting to see some positive changes. His voice was getting deeper now, properly deep. It was matching with the other boys who were rapidly going through puberty and dealing with the sudden change in voice. Not only that but he was starting to see some slight facial hair, at least around his lip. He didn’t think he looked great with a moustache but at the moment, as he was ecstatic at the fact he could even grow facial hair, there was absolutely nothing his friends could say that would make him shave it off. And they had tried.

“Remus you look like a nonce,” said Peter. “Everyone with a moustache looks like a nonce.”

“Not everyone, what about...” Remus couldn’t think of a single person he knew with a moustache. “Shut up, it looks fine.”

“It’s barely a moustache, it’s like four hairs,” Sirius laughed.

“Yeah, you wanna look like my uncle Roger,” continued Peter. “He has a fantastic moustache, it’s all big and bushy.”

“You just said all people with moustaches look like a nonce.”

“Well alright, not him. That’s just cos his is so good, but yours is all thin.”

“A pencil moustache,” said James. “Like all the great creeps.”

“You’re all talking bullshit. Besides, I’m not the only one. James has facial hair too, and Sirius.”

“Yeah but we shave. Like normal people who can so far only grow creep moustaches.”

“Oh bugger off.” He crossed his arms to his chest and scowled. It was all in good fun, and they had no idea how much of a big deal facial hair was to Remus. He almost cried when he started noticing it. But it was a little more hurtful than he was sure they intended, especially when Sirius said how it was barely a moustache. And it was true that James and Sirius already had more facial hair than he did, as well as a number of other boys in his year. The fact that Sirius wasn’t even thirteen yet made it all the more of a blow. That being said, Sirius wasn’t a good comparison as he seemed to be going through puberty sooner and faster than all of them. But when Remus’s only other comparison was Peter, who still looked barely eleven, then he didn’t exactly feel fantastic about himself.

But any facial hair was still a win. The point was, the potion was properly working. He also wasn’t the shortest boy in his class either; Peter and Tobin took that title, as well as a few boys from the other houses, and he was around the same height as Sirius at the moment. All in all, Remus was managing to keep his dysphoria relatively under control.

His birthday came and went, and he received the usual cards from his family. He hid the cards but shared the box of confectionery with his friends. Half-term was nearly upon them, and he knew everyone except Peter and Tobin were staying. Lily was also going home for half-term, and Remus was looking forward to the train ride back. He hadn’t hung out as much with Lily, or Tobin, and he missed them. Especially Lily. He caught her in the library sometimes and they resumed their usual routine of studying together like they had when school had first started. But usually he was accompanied by Sirius or James or Peter, and Lily was with Marlene or Mary, or their friend Dorcas from third year. Even Owain was sometimes with them, so they were never alone. At least on the train ride back, there’d only be two other people, and they’d have hours to spend together.

Just before term ended, they celebrated James’s birthday. They were tense at the moment, James from a failed Quidditch match as well as the continuous reports of muggle attacks being recorded in the Daily Prophet. A birthday was a good distraction.

Once again, they didn’t have much to give to James as presents, but they decided to up the festivities this year and throw their own party in the Gryffindor common room. It wasn’t a massive party, an out of control rager that only the older students seemed to be able to pull off. Although there was a significant amount of reception considering James was now well known in the Gryffindor circle as Gryffindor chaser. Not only that, but any excuse for a party was good enough reason for the students, whether they knew who the party was for or not. None of the second years had brought alcohol because they didn’t want to and because there was no way they could get their hands on any, but somehow they spotted a few bottles of firewhiskey and brandy being passed around by the end of the night.

They mainly stuck to their own group, having only contributed the music (thanks to Selene sending Remus a copy of a Rolling Stones and a few Led Zeppelin albums) just for some background noise and a few hand drawn banners put up saying “Happy Birthday James!” on them. It was a little over dramatic, and Remus would have hated it himself, but then James was rather an over dramatic person. And naturally, he was loving the attention.

As the party wound down, Remus, James, Sirius, Peter and the other second years were by their usual spot near the fireplace, fending off their territory from drunk fifth and sixth years. They had exhausted any games, and were simply sitting around snacking on crisps and sweets and talking.

“What do you guys want to do when you grow up?” Asked James, passing a bowl of popcorn to Lily, who was sitting near to him.

“I dunno,” said Sirius. “What do you wanna do?”

“Professional Quidditch player, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“I wanted to be a vet,” replied Lily. “Before Hogwarts. But I’m not sure what I want to do now.”

“Most people just work for the ministry,” informed Sirius. “Nearly all of my family does. Except for a few bankers oversees, and... other stuff.” Sirius didn’t want to talk about what his family’s career choices were and probably for good reason. Remus could imagine some pretty shady businesses the Black family was involved in, least of all the ones who were followers of You-Know-Who.

“I could work for the ministry,” said Peter. “My uncle works for the spirit division, and then my dad works for the office of misinformation.”

“Do you want to do either of those jobs?” Asked Marlene.

“Not really, although the spirit division might be cool.”

“I wouldn’t mind being a healer,” continued Jethro. “I wouldn’t want to work in the ministry. My dad was an auror and it got him killed, and my cousin works in the administration registration department which is as boring as it sounds.”

“I hate the ministry,” said Owain. “Government stuff doesn’t interest me at all.”

“What does interest you?”

“Botany. I like plants. There’s plenty of business with magical plants, or I could be a herbology teacher.”

“You’d be good.” Owain was always on hand to help with herbology homework, and he did a good job explaining things that they didn’t understand.

“What about you, Remus?” Asked Tobin, turning to face him. Remus took a handful of crisps and chewed them for as long as he could to avoid answering, hoping that someone else would jump in instead. Unfortunately no one did, they simply waited patiently for him to begin. He didn’t have anything to say.

“I don’t know.”

“There must be something.”

“No, I’ve never really thought about it.” He’d never had the choice to think about it. Any option he had had been written off from the moment Greyback had bitten him. He had no hope of working for a ministry that still had a werewolf capture unit and a committee for the disposal of dangerous creatures.

“Come on, you’re smart. You read books all the time, you could be a professor like.”

“What, in potions?” He laughed. “I’d be shit.”

“Nah you could be...”

“A librarian,” suggested Peter.

“Or the owner of Flourish and Blotts,” said Lily.

“Or a writer!” That was Sirius, who genuinely lit up at the thought.

“Do you really think reading is all I do?” He liked reading, but only because he was used to it. He’d always read, it was like breathing. ‘One does not love to breathe’. Where was that from? To Kill a Mockingbird. Maybe he was destined for librarian. He’d probably be banned from that as well.

“Pretty much.”

“What do you wanna do, Tobes?” Asked Remus, quickly switching the focus to someone else.

“Well, me dad’s a miner, and so are most of the men in my family. I don’t wanna do that. I think I could be a chef.”

“A chef? Since when can you cook?”

“I’m great at cooking! Aren’t I, Jeth?”

“Yeah, he is. He can cook anything.”

“Well, not anything. But a lot of things!”

“You’ll have to cook us something then,” said James, and Tobin nodded enthusiastically.

“Absolutely, I’ll cook a massive dinner party for all of us like. I’ll get a house just so there’s room for all o’ yous.”

Tobin didn’t like Doctor Who. That’s what they found out on the journey back. He said he found it boring, and that the aliens weren’t scary enough.

“Clearly you haven’t watched the episodes with the Cybermen,” replied Lily defiantly.

“Or the Daleks.”

“I have actually, and they were just pieces of metal. What’s so scary about that?”

“Apart from the fact that they can kill you and they’re almost indestructible?” Said Remus.

“Yeah.” Lily and Remus were both equally affronted. Peter was just confused.

“What’s Doctor Who?” He asked. Lily dramatically gasped at him.

“What’s Doctor Who!?” She was joking of course, obviously a pureblood like Peter wouldn’t know what Doctor Who was, but Lily was funny when she was dramatic. She was like James in that sense, although James took himself much more seriously.

“It’s a space show,” replied Tobin. “And it’s crap.”

“It’s actually not, and you’re fully disinvited from being anywhere near me,” said Lily.

“It’s about a Time Lord known as the Doctor who travels across time and space and fights evil aliens and robots and stuff,” explained Remus.

“Sounds good.”

“It is, regardless of what Tobin says.” Tobin crossed his arms in defiance.

“Whatever. At least I’ve outgrown that sort of stuff.”

“Sucks for you then,” concluded Lily.

They all said goodbye on the platform, Lily hugging Remus tightly which prompted an expectant look from Hope.

“She seems nice.” The tone in her voice was blatantly obvious and Remus rolled his eyes.

“She’s just a friend, mam.”

“Is she the muggle one?” asked Lyall. Both his parents were there to pick him up as usual, but Lyall would be travelling back to London while Hope and Remus would drive up to Wales instead. Other than the brief ten minute walk out of the station, Remus would see his dad again on the weekend.

“Yeah. She’s great. She’s the only one I can talk about muggle stuff with, except Tobin. But Tobin doesn’t like Doctor Who.”

The half term was fairly slow. There was nothing for Remus to do and nowhere for him to go. His mum wasn’t up to doing much, because most of the time she was tired, so really they just sat and watched TV and Remus would sometimes cook a few meals to give his mum a break.

He found out he was pretty shit at cooking. Where was Tobin when you needed him? He overcooked the pasta and burnt the sauce a little, but it was edible. At least, his mum did a good job acting as if it was good. It was a shame though, because weirdly enough he was great at baking. But apparently his culinary skills were much more suited to the oven rather than the hob. He made his mum plenty of cakes over the half term.

He was slightly worried about how tired his mum seemed to be lately, but he just put it across as stress from the split with his father. It had been months now since it happened, but even so, it was a big deal. They hadn’t quite made it to a fifteen year marriage, but fourteen years was still long. Having it fall apart, whether overnight or not, was enough stress to send a person to an early grave. It was lucky that Lyall wasn’t that difficult a person. He kept up child support, looked after Remus on the weekends and didn’t give Hope much grief. It was about as amicable as a split up could hope to be. As a result, Remus could deal with Lyall slagging Hope off behind her back when Remus visited, mainly because Hope did the same thing at home. Remus just learnt to tune it out.

But even so, the visits to Lyall were a good opportunity for Hope to have a proper rest, and Remus tried to ignore any concerns he had, or a vague uneasiness when he wasn’t around to keep an eye on her. She seemed okay overall, and she was fine to drive all the way back up to London when half term ended and wave him off with Lyall by her side.

Remus sat with Lily and Peter again, but weirdly, Tobin wasn’t with them. They thought perhaps he was in a different carriage and had just missed them, but when they went searching, he was nowhere to be found.

“That’s weird,” said Lily. “Did he say anything about missing school?”

“No,” replied Remus, “Last time we talked he just said he going up to London for a week.” Peter similarly had no idea where Tobin could be.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Asked Lily once they had sat back down in their carriage.

“Maybe his cystic fibrosis got bad again.” Tobin had been pretty well during Hogwarts, what with potions keeping the fluid out of his lungs, and he hadn’t said anything about his condition worsening in any way. But maybe something had happened unexpectedly.

“Well, whatever it is, I hope he’s alright.”

Jethro didn’t know either. When they returned to Hogwarts they asked the others if Tobin had spoken to any of them, especially Jethro, but either they hadn’t spoken to him at all or the last letter they received from him was a few days ago and said nothing about him not returning.

“He would have told me if it was something serious,” said Jethro. “He’ll probably be back tomorrow, he might have just missed the train.” They didn’t worry about it that evening, accepting the explanation that Tobin had just been delayed in some way. Dinner went by in its usual light hearted manner, and conversation focused on what everyone was up to during half term. Remus didn’t have much to say about his half term, but Lily had gone down to Newcastle and talked about a play she’d seen at a local theatre.

“It was An Inspector Calls and it was really good. It’s sort of like a murder mystery but it also isn’t because one of the characters was technically murdered by this family but also she wasn’t, she just killed herself.”

“That doesn’t any make sense,” said James.

“It does when you see it, but it’s way too complicated to explain. But then, I think that’s the point.”

“I’ve read that play,” interjected Remus. “It was good. I didn’t like any of the characters though.”

“I think Gerald was the only likeable character and he wasn’t great either cos he cheated on Sheila.”

“I didn’t like how they never explained who the inspector was. Like, how did he know Eva Smith was dead before she had even died?”

“Maybe the inspector killed her,” suggested Sirius.

“No, he didn’t,” explained Lily. “She killed herself, but only because the family had treated her badly or whatever. He was like this time traveller or something.”

“I’ve read another play by the same author, but I can’t remember the name. But there was this doctor or professor who said that when someone dies they just relive their life again, but they don’t remember, except for small glimpses which is just deja vu. And because you don’t remember you can’t change it, and it only changes by chance I guess. It was weird. But the doctor had trained himself to remember so he had lived like... loads of different lives.”

“It sounds good,” Jethro remarked. They were all listening to the conversation now, even if none of them had actually read what Remus and Lily were talking about.

“Not really. It got kind of boring, but the theory was interesting. Freaked me out a bit.” Remus certainly wouldn’t want to relive his life over and over again, even if he didn’t remember it. The play had left him feeling uneasy ever since, and every time he experienced deja vu now he couldn’t help but wonder if the theory was true, and he was remembering the life he already had. How many versions of this life had he gone through already? How many times had he died? And had he died in the exact same way? He didn’t sleep much after reading that play.

Tobin had slipped their minds almost completely by the time they went up to bed, although Remus noticed that Jethro was being quieter than usual. He was probably starting to worry at the lack of correspondence; if Tobin had missed the train he would have been able to tell Jethro by now, surely.

“He’ll be fine,” said Remus, walking up to Jethro and patting him on the shoulder. Jethro smiled lightly.

“Yeah, I know. I hope so, anyway.”

The Great Hall at breakfast was weirdly subdued. Remus didn’t know why, and neither did the rest of the second years when they sat down to eat, but one difference was unmissable. Dumbledore was standing up as if to address all of them, but he wasn’t saying anything yet. He was waiting for them all to sit and settle down.

The Hall had nearly filled up, students entering in groups, chatting quickly and loudly to each other until they noticed the rest of the student body. Their conversations fizzled out awkwardly as they found their seats. As time ticked on, a feeling of dread was creeping up through Remus’s body. Some internal instinct telling him that whatever Dumbledore was about to say couldn’t be good.

Tobin’s empty seat became more and more glaringly obvious.

The Hall was finally full, and Dumbledore cleared his throat.

“Now that we are gathered here together,” he began, his rough voice filling the four walls. “I have some extremely sad news to share with you all.” The dread increased ever further until it felt like a roaring in Remus’s ears. A roaring that held a single name. Tobin. It’s about Tobin. He knew before it was even said, so certain that it scared him.

“I’m afraid one of our students was caught up in a muggle attack two nights ago, and he did not survive it.” A ripple went through the Hall, gasps and whispers. Who could it be? was the question of the minute, but Remus knew. All the second year Gryffindors knew. Remus caught a glance at Jethro, who was staring so hard at Dumbledore that he refused to blink.

“Let us all take a minute’s silence to honour the memory of Tobin Hyslop, a second year Gryffindor and a beloved student.” The Hall fell so quiet that Remus could hear his heartbeat in his ear. He went numb the second that Tobin’s name had been said. He knew, but he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready for this.

He didn’t cry. The news was too serious for that. Shock was all he could really feel, that it had happened. That it was his friend. That the battle between the grown ups had finally penetrated their own lives. Before this they were twelve, thirteen. Kids just trying to ignore what they thought would be sorted by the adults. Now they were soldiers, wounded by a battle that shouldn’t have been theirs. And their group already had a victim.

How many lives had Tobin had before this? Did he die in the same way each time? Or was there one life where he hadn’t gone to London, and he’d stayed at home and returned to school on the right day and continued to have fun with them? An alternate life where he’d enabled them to finish their childhoods first.

Chapter Text

“This was a devastating attack,” continued Dumbledore, as heads rose up from their bowed silence. “Fuelled by nothing more than hate and anger. We must, therefore, stay strong in the face of this tragedy. Stay strong against the threat of hate, and not allow Mr Hyslop and his family to die in vain.” Remus’s brain felt thick with fog. Nothing was registering properly and all he could do was stare unblinkingly at his knees. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the others, knowing their own grief would be the tipping point for him, and he’d start sobbing.

Whatever Dumbledore said to finish off his speech, Remus didn’t listen. He’d heard it, but it vanished from his memory almost instantly and he didn’t care enough to try and remember. They were all dismissed, and somehow Remus managed to drag himself off the hard bench and follow the crowd of students to the dorm rooms. None of the other students cared. The other houses were soon chatting amongst themselves, sad at the thought of a child’s death, scared at the thought of muggle attacks, but they’d soon forget within a few days and go back to their lives. Even the Gryffindors who weren’t in second year would soon move on. It was just their little class of twelve and thirteen year olds who felt like the entire world had collapsed around them. They weren’t used to death, least of all of someone they had been so close to. Someone their age. Remus finally glanced around him, and the grief was paramount. Jethro was his main focus, having been Tobin’s best friend, and he looked like he was in a trance. The denial was paralysing him as he walked and he didn’t acknowledge anyone, not even Owain who was attempting to comfort him throughout his own sadness. A hand on Jethro’s arm that was bluntly shaken off.

Sirius and James and Peter were around Remus as per usual, huddling together to comfort themselves, not talking, but not straying away from each other. Remus didn’t know who would initiate conversation first, but he didn’t think it would be him. Going back to the dorm room felt wrong, as if he should be doing something else, something significant. Aren’t they supposed to acknowledge it? He couldn’t remember dealing with a death before, except for a grandfather when he was seven, and in his mind there was a gap between the death and the funeral that he didn’t know how to fill. It felt like the funeral should be this minute just to confirm that Tobin really wasn’t coming back. Whether Remus would still believe it or not wasn’t important, because apparently the gap was filled with going to bed and not speaking.

Everyone needed to deal with their thoughts alone. They needed to work through their immediate grief before sharing it with someone else, and staring at the ceiling of their four poster beds seemed to be the only option. Everyone dealt with the situation differently, and it was only by choice if someone’s pain could intertwine with someone else’s.

Jethro didn’t stick around for long. It was late, almost time for bed but no one would be sleeping. He didn’t have an invisibility cloak, or a map, or a group of friends to help on lookout. He didn’t care. He simply left wordlessly, and no one heard him return until the early hours of the morning. None of them knew where he had gone, but not even Owain tried to follow him. Remus understood because he usually did the same thing when he needed to be alone. He went off on his own without warning and didn’t return until he was ready enough. Jethro was probably in one of the towers, or hiding in the courtyard. Somewhere that no one could bother him. A part of Remus wanted to feel sorry for him, and maybe try to help him, but it was overshadowed by his own protective instincts that only cared about himself and how he needed to deal with the situation. It was funny how self absorbed death could make a person.

Remus curled up under the covers. He couldn’t hide under the bed; his usual haunt as a kid when he needed to be alone. That would be much too childish and he didn’t want to draw attention to himself in case it prompted someone to speak. He brought the covers over his head and briefly distracted himself by working out if he would suffocate, paranoid that he may fall asleep and asphyxiate without realising it. The paranoia kept the grief at bay for a second, until both started to merge together and became overwhelming enough to finally cause a break in the dam. He kept the covers over his head, forgetting about the lack of oxygen, and cried. He stayed as silent as possible, but his pillow was soon wet. An uncomfortable dampness that cooled his skin and blocked his nose. He really couldn’t breathe now, and he really wished he’d taken Jethro’s idea and left the dorm. But the duvet was warm and it offered him a slight comfort. He slipped his head out of the covers to allow himself some air, and as he did he sensed the curtains behind him move. He wanted to pretend to be asleep, but what would that look like? Who could possibly sleep at a time like this? He turned round, and he met the familiar face of Sirius, a face he didn’t realise he needed right now but he instinctively moved over. Sirius’s cheeks were similarly tear-stained and he wordlessly lay next to Remus.

“Are you okay?” Remus asked in a croaky whisper. Sirius shook his head. This wasn’t a time for pretending like they normally did. Nodding their heads and saying “fine” when someone asked if they were okay when they weren’t just wasn’t appropriate right now. They weren’t okay. None of them were, and pretending otherwise felt like an insult.

“He sent a letter a few days ago,” whispered Sirius. “I only spoke to him a few days ago. How could he be dead?” His voice broke so that ‘dead’ was pronounced without sound, and Sirius didn’t appear to want to continue.

“I know,” replied Remus. “I don’t even know how to react. I mean, we weren’t the closest of friends or anything but I really liked him.” Not to mention being the first person to find out about Remus’s lycanthropy; whether it was accidental or not, it still stood for something.

“I’m scared, Re.” Sirius looked at him with eyes that suggested he thought Remus had an answer, which made Remus realise that he had now taken on the role of the guy his friends looked up to at a time like this. The advice giver. The parent.

That wasn’t him at all. He didn’t know how that had even come about because he was much too unstable to be the responsible one. He barely had a hold of himself, and he was expected to keep everyone else together? That was like holding fragile glass ornaments in a bowl that was already cracked.

“So am I,” he returned. Nothing else could really be said. They had acknowledged that both were feeling as wretched as the other, and that was enough for them to lie side by side, arms touching and falling into their own thoughts.

Remus fell asleep much faster than he was expecting.

Sirius left his bed at some point during the night or morning. Remus didn’t know when exactly, but the covers were creased where Sirius’s body had been. He must have already headed for class, which Remus had to drag himself to as well. The teachers were understanding, and they held a minute’s silence for Tobin during the first lesson, which if anything felt cheap to Remus. Jethro had been granted time off for a few days to grieve because he’d been close enough to Tobin. The others were expected to attend class, but the teachers were more lenient for a while. They weren’t given any homework for the first day at least, but Remus sort of wanted to write a few essays just for a good distraction, even if it was potions, even if he was forced to write ten feet of parchment with Professor Binns droning on in his ear. Anything would be better than going through every interaction he’d had with Tobin in his head, each one being a stab at his throat as he tried not to cry in front of the rest of the school. It was as if it crept up on him, or more accurately, had held him hostage. If he found himself distracted for even a moment, even a second without thinking about Tobin, another memory flashed into his brain as a punishing reminder and his heart tightened all over again. He was thinking more about Tobin after death than he had when he was alive and right in front of him, and even though he knew it was stupid to feel guilty over this he still did. He was still selfish enough to feel sorry for himself and his own guilt to notice anyone else’s.

He finally spotted Jethro near the end of the following day. He was curled up in one of the windowsill cubbies of the dorm room, away from anyone else. Remus didn’t know whether to bother him or not, because he didn’t have anything to say, and he didn’t want to just stand there awkwardly for no reason. So he left him alone.

It was a day later when all of the boys finally had no choice but to interact with each other. Before that, Remus and Sirius had stayed close together but had left any thoughts unspoken between them. James was spending most of his time practicing on the Quidditch field, but rather like Jethro, Remus assumed he was only doing it to be alone with his thoughts and probably wasn’t taking in his surroundings at all. When James was deep in thought everyone knew that he barely heard or saw anything around him. Remus had been talking to him once, a little absentmindedly himself, and James had suddenly looked up at him with a vaguely surprised look on his face.

“You’re still talking?” he had asked, and Remus was about to act affronted at the rude interruption, but it wasn’t rude at all. James apologised quickly for how it had sounded, and tried to explain that he was simply surprised that he had zoned out so much that he genuinely hadn’t heard Remus speaking at all.

Point was, if the others were in their right mind they’d probably be worried about James injuring himself by not looking where he was going. But since they weren’t, they left him to his devices. It was only pure luck and innate skill that James escaped with his limbs intact.

Out of the four of them, except maybe Remus, Peter had known Tobin the best because he’d hung out with him, Jethro and Owain sometimes. As a result he stuck closer to Owain for a bit and spent his time in the greenhouses with him for hours on end, so they didn’t see much of him. He wasn’t even that much of a herbologist despite being good at it, but Remus could understand how the greenhouses would be a good distraction and he was tempted to go there himself.

But tensions soon ran high two days after the news of Tobin’s death when Jethro broke his silence and faced Sirius before bed. Jethro must have reached the anger stage of grief because he stood squarely in front of the dorm room door, his arms crossed and scowling at Sirius.

“What’s going on?” asked Remus when he reached the top of the stairs. Owain and James were already there as witnesses.

“I don’t want Sirius in our dorm,” stated Jethro. His voice was firm, unforgiving. Remus had no idea what Sirius had done to warrant such a reaction, and apparently neither did Sirius.

“But I haven’t done anything!”

“I don’t care,” continued Jethro. “You’re part of that family. One of your cousins or uncles or fucking brothers probably killed him and I don’t want you anywhere near me.” He was getting angrier by the second, and Remus could sense an imminent fight if they weren’t careful.

“No they didn’t! I don’t have anything to do with this, and I miss him too!”

“Shut up, you barely talked to him! Don’t deny that your family has anything to do with these attacks. Your family are death eaters!” He practically spat at Sirius, and Sirius looked absolutely crushed. It was true after all. His family wouldn’t have exactly been saddened by the news, and Remus was sure— with a sickening thought— that some of them may even have been happy about it. He could see where Jethro was coming from, and if he didn’t know Sirius as well as he did, he probably would have agreed.

Owain stood beside Jethro defiantly and stared down Sirius in unison with his friend.

“I agree with Jeth,” he said. “We don’t want you in here.”

“But where the hell else am I supposed to go?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care, but we can’t even look at you right now.”

“That’s not fair,” interjected James, standing beside his friend until it was two against two. “He didn’t do a thing! He misses Tobin too, and it’s not his fault he was born into that family.”

“I know it’s not, but that doesn’t mean we should be around someone whose cousins are probably celebrating right now,” replied Jethro.

“Do you think I don’t hate the thought as well? I’m not like my family!” Remus finally went to Sirius’s side, but he didn’t try and defend him. He didn’t go against him either, because in his mind, both parties had good and bad points which ultimately were leading nowhere.

“Sirius, I think it’s best if you step downstairs,” said Remus, quietly to Sirius but loud enough for the others to catch it. “Just leave it.” Sirius looked at him, hurt.

“But… Remus, you know it’s not my fault.”

“I know, but that’s not the point. Just, sleep on the sofa tonight. It’s not a big deal.” Sirius wanted to argue, but one look at Remus and he dejectedly went downstairs. Remus didn’t follow right away, but James did.

“I’m not trying to be unreasonable,” continued Jethro, sounding considerably calmer now that Sirius was gone. “I just can’t be around him. Not yet, at least. Not knowing how his family are probably thinking right now.”

“I know, and I get it. But I don’t think you can keep him locked out forever. He really isn’t like his family, you know?”

“I hope not.” Jethro turned back to the door and disappeared into the dorm, Owain following behind him.

Remus went downstairs and found Sirius and James on the sofa. James was talking in low tones to his friend, but stopped when Remus arrived.

“You’re not annoyed at me, are you?” Remus asked. Sirius looked up at him, seemingly considering saying yes, but thought against it.

“I suppose not. I guess leaving them alone was the only option.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to defend you or anything, but you have to understand that Jethro’s well in his right to be a little uncomfortable with you around— not! because it’s your fault,” Remus added as Sirius went to interrupt. “But you do remember who your family are, don’t you?”

“How can I forget?” he muttered. “All I can think about is the fact that my mother probably rejoiced at the news of another muggle attack.” Sirius shook his head angrily and bent over to bury his head in his hands. “They’re right, I shouldn’t be around them. How can you even stand to talk to me?” He looked up at his friends in despair and James stood up from the adjacent armchair and sat next to him, patting him on the back.

“Don’t think like that, they just need time.”

“You can’t just feel sorry for yourself, though,” added Remus. “Sorry for being blunt and all, but you’re pureblood. Both of you are. You don’t get what it’s like to worry about muggle attacks. Every day I’m worried about someone hurting my mam, especially now. So you can’t just sit around and cry about your shit family, you have to do something about it.”

“Like what? Leave? I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“I’m not saying that, I mean… do you hate your family?”

“No? Yes. I think so… I don’t know.”

“Well, that’s one of the problems then. You don’t even know how you feel about them.”

“Give him a break, Re, it’s his family. It’s tough to admit they suck.” Remus was surprised at James. The boy was pretty quick in going against Sirius if he thought he was on the verge of falling back on his upbringing, but he was being more lenient with him than Remus would have liked. Remus didn’t want to be harsh with his friend, but he really had meant what he said about his mum. Sirius— and James for that matter— didn’t have to worry about sudden attacks from death eaters. They didn’t have to stay awake worrying that news would come the following day saying that their mother or grandmother or uncle had been murdered. He needed to get through to Sirius that it simply wasn’t an option to try and just ignore, or even forgive, his family. He was in a position where hating them was the only option because people like them were the reason Tobin was dead.

“No, I won’t. Because Sirius is right, his mother is probably happy at the thought that our friend is dead. If it’s hard for Sirius to hate them after that then there’s nothing else to say, and I don’t want him in the dorm either.” James didn’t say anything, and he looked like he agreed, but he didn’t say so.

“So if I say I hate my family, Jethro will know I’m nothing like them, right?”

“You can’t just say it, you have to prove it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. It’s up to you.” Peter arrived then, hands filthy from the mud from the greenhouses. He asked what was going on and James explained, but said there was no need for him to get involved because the conversation had basically ended. The three boys left Sirius on the sofa in front of the fire and went up to their own beds. Remus conceded ever so slightly by bringing down Sirius’s duvet for him. He didn’t say anything more, though, and neither did Sirius.

It was only a matter of time before the nightmares came back. Remus had experienced them a few times growing up, but they hadn’t been as bad since he was small, and the attack was still fresh in his memory. He didn’t know why they had been triggered again by an event so seemingly unrelated, but he had forgotten how terrifying they were. He was back in the forest, pitch black and a full moon, but he wasn’t transforming. He just kept walking, barefoot, the only sounds being the leaves on the floor crunching under his weight. Everything was eerie, with a constant fear of the unknown round every corner. He looked through trees into tunnels of blackness, expecting something to jump out at him at any moment, a sudden flash of light perhaps and fangs tearing into his flesh.

But there was nothing. He couldn’t say it was quiet, because the trees were whistling and he felt like he was in the Wizard of Oz, which sounded more positive than he felt. He was certain the trees were watching him and he was certain they were unforgiving. Unforgiving of what, he didn’t know, but he felt like the star attraction.

The moonlight streamed in through a gap in the trees and he came to an abrupt halt, but it wasn’t the moonlight that stopped him. It was a figure, around his size, with its back turned to him. There was something much scarier about something being turned away from you than in front because you couldn’t see the face. For all Remus knew, it could be an unidentifiable mess of skin, or something entirely inhuman. He was reluctant to stare at it.

Eventually though, it turned round. Its face was normal. Expresionaless, but normal. It was Tobin, and the chill that ran through Remus as he looked at the boy’s empty eyes suggested this was far scarier than any demonic replacement.

“Toby?” Remus tried, with no response. He wanted to run, but the thought of being chased kept him motionless, stuck to the ground like lead. “Are you alright?”

Tobin began to walk towards him, eyes fixated on Remus’s own. The noise of the leaves underground was unsettling and Remus was internally screaming at himself to run. As Tobin got closer, and his features became more prominent, it became harder to look at him. He’s not here, he’s dead, he’s gone, he’s not here. The figure in front of Remus made this abundantly clear. Somehow, despite all the signs suggesting otherwise, it was obvious that this boy was dead. His cheeks were sallow, his lips were blue and his eyes were so unmoving that Remus was sure they couldn’t see a thing.

But it wasn’t just that. There was something else about his features that made Remus feel very uneasy. Remus had never looked in a mirror just before transforming before, mostly because there usually hadn’t been one to hand but also because he hadn’t felt the need. That being said, he was sure if he had, he would have looked like Tobin.

Tobin’s eyes were yellow, with thin pupils. The veins on his neck were dark, snaking up his throat and creeping up the sides of his face. He smiled slightly, and Remus could see the tiny pinpricks of fangs hidden behind his lips. The light of the full moon wasn’t affecting Remus, but it was affecting Tobin. The roles had been reversed.

“Thanks for infecting me,” drawled Tobin, in a low voice that sounded nothing like his own. “I can do so much cool stuff now, and no one can hurt me because I can just…” He reached out a hand and Remus noticed the veins sprawled against his skin looking exactly like the ones on his neck. His fingernails were long and blackened. Once again Remus felt the urgent need to run away, but he was as frozen as the spot of moonlight in front of him. All he could do was allow Tobin to reach out a hand and pull down the collar of Remus’s shirt ever so slightly, exposing the scars on his shoulder. They were his worst scars, and always hidden by his clothes. They were long and jaggedy, and while they had faded considerably with age, they were still very noticeable. The stark reminder of exactly where he’d been attacked as a child.

“I can just do what he did,” Tobin breathed. He traced a finger across the scars and Remus shivered under the touch; it was as unpleasant as walking through one of the ghosts. “It’s a wonder you don’t. So many people want to hurt you, just like they hurt me but… maybe even more. It’s insulting, don’t you think?”

“What is?”

“You. You have the ability to kill people and all you can do is hide it. Perhaps if I had your powers I would still be alive. It’s insulting.”

“Oh.” It was strange how Tobin was able to look both angry and nonchalant at the same time, while still remaining completely expressionless. Along with the words he was saying, Remus was begging his brain to wake up.

“What’s the point of being a werewolf if you still let purist bastards like Sirius get away with murder?”

“He’s not… he’s not like that.”

“Oh yeah? And how long are you going to hold onto that belief? When another muggle family is attacked by his own family? It could be your mum, killed by his brother one day. Might even be him who kills her.”

“Shut up.”

“But you don’t believe that, do you? He’s your friend after all. I hope his upbringing taught him all about transgender people, because I’m sure he’ll be very understanding when you finally tell him. If you tell him, of course.”

“Of course I will.”

“Your funeral,” Tobin concluded. “Or mine, I guess.” And without warning, before Remus could even register the last of the conversation, Tobin ripped through Remus’s shoulder with his claws, his hand having still been near Remus’s neck. The old wounds reopened and bled out distressingly quickly, a flood of red pouring out of Remus’s shoulder and neck and chest. It didn’t hurt. It couldn’t have hurt; he was dreaming after all. But the shock was finally enough to wake him up and he fought with his twisted bedsheets in a panic before he could calm himself down enough to work out that he was awake.

Immediately coming out of a nightmare was the worst part, because the protection of the fantasy world his brain was conjuring was no longer around him. Yes it was a nightmare, but even within he knew it was fake. Now that it was gone, all he was left with was the same awful feelings, but without the company of whatever monster his brain had used to personify his own guilt and insecurities. He was alone in the dark, the nightmare lingering around his brain, feeling so detached and yet so present. He tried to breathe in and out, covering himself fully with the duvet for protection and tried not to think about anything Tobin had said to him.

It wasn’t him, Remus kept repeating to himself. He’s gone. He’s dead. He’s not here. He’s gone.

But that wasn’t the point, because it wasn’t Tobin that scared Remus. It was the stuff that he— his brain— was trying to tell him. About himself, and about Sirius. Regardless of who carried the message, it was up to Remus to listen.

Remus just didn’t know what would happen if he did.

Chapter Text

Sirius avoided the dorm room as much as he could, and continued sleeping on the sofa night after night. It wasn’t as if Jethro was acting as guard against the dorm, in fact Jethro hadn’t even spoken to Sirius since that night. Sirius, however, had apparently decided that sleeping on the sofa was a fitting enough punishment, and if he kept it up, eventually he’d be forgiven.

Remus wasn’t so sure.

“You know, you’re not exactly proving anything by sleeping here,” Remus informed one evening while Sirius was splayed out on the settee.

“I’m proving that I agree with Jethro, aren’t I?”

“Well, have you told him you agree with him?”

“He won’t speak to me.”

“You haven’t even tried, though. It just looks like you’re making a point more than anything.” Sirius rolled over onto his front and sighed.

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Remus shrugged, which just made Sirius scowl at him.

“You’re not being very helpful. You keep telling me I’m doing the wrong thing but you won’t tell me what the right thing is. If you don’t know yourself then why are you always on my back?”

“Because I don’t know what the right thing is, I just know what the wrong thing is, and I know that what you’re doing isn’t going to work. I think you just have to talk to him.”

“And if he won’t talk to me?”

“Well, it’s up to him. He will eventually, he said himself he’s just not ready to be around you yet. Emphasis on the yet.” Sirius thought about it, but declined to say anything else on the matter.

James had let him off for a day or two, trying to convince Jethro to let Sirius back in the dorm, but he soon decided that he’d probably be better off not getting involved at all. James certainly got very defensive about his friends, which usually backfired if they were in the wrong, and he had to try to work out what to do afterwards. He hadn’t fallen out with Sirius, but he had finally voiced his agreement with Remus and no longer tried to get Jethro to concede. Mainly because it wasn’t fair. Jethro was grieving, and the last thing he needed was someone hassling him about letting someone back into their dorm room, especially someone who was just making his grief even worse.

They were all still grieving, of course. Tobin’s death wasn’t something any of them could get over in just a few days, so they were all in a weird period of time where they were trying to be nice to each other, but tensions kept rising much faster than normal. They were all snappy and moody when they didn’t mean to be, so no one was really on great speaking terms with anyone, and they all mostly just kept to themselves. 

Remus spent more time with Lily as a result, who wasn’t around him constantly and therefore there was no unbroken tension between them. Lily was just as upset by Tobin’s death as everyone else, because she had still known him, even if it wasn’t to the extent as the boys. What she was most upset about, though, was their last conversation on the train. It wasn’t as if they’d had an argument, or had fallen out, because the whole Doctor Who debate was exaggerated at best, and neither were actually annoyed at the other for liking or disliking the show. But Lily had somehow got it into her head that perhaps she had been unpleasant towards Tobin, and so the last time they had talked, they had argued. Remus kept assuring her that this wasn’t the case at all, but death certainly made the mind more paranoid.

As a distraction, Remus hung around her and Marlene as much as possible, and the two frequented the library more and more. In fact it was in the library, nearly a week after Tobin’s death, that Remus and Lily were interrupted with news that Sirius was in the hospital wing, after getting into a fight with Cassius Mulciber from the Slytherin house.

It was lunchtime, and Remus was rewriting an essay for his History of Magic class which he had spectacularly misunderstood the first time round, so he was already more than a little bit pissed off. Lily was simply sitting next to him reading a book on magical maladies, attempting to engage Marlene, but Marlene wasn’t much of a reader. Instead, she was doodling inside the cover of a book, or at least she was until Lily saw it was a library book and snatched it out from underneath her. After that, Marlene simply sat twiddling her thumbs with a frown on her face.

It was then that Peter came running into the room and weaved through the shelves to reach them, huffing and red-faced by the time he arrived.

“You alright there, Pete?” Peter shook his head, hands on his knees.

“It’s Sirius,” he panted. “He got into… a fight with… that Mulciber bloke… and he’s… shit… he’s in the hospital wing.” He stretched out to his full height and blew the air out of his cheeks. “He’s fine I think but he did a right number on Mulciber. Didn’t even use magic or nothing, just his fists.” Remus had already stood up by then and grabbed Peter by the shoulder in order to turn him around and lead them both out of the room, Lily and Marlene following behind.

Remus managed to get more information out of Peter during the short walk to the infirmary. According to Peter, who was only telling them what James had told him (Peter hadn’t witnessed the fight, but James had and was a little worse for wear after trying to hold Sirius back), Sirius had gone up to Mulciber and picked a fight with him unprompted.

“He was yellin’ at him or something, but I’m not sure what about because James didn’t hear it neither. But he was like really pissed off and Mulciber’s a scary guy so he didn’t exactly sit there and take it.” Remus could imagine, and he dreaded to think what Sirius looked like right now. Surprisingly, though, Peter said that Mulciber was the one who got off far worse.

Sirius was getting pretty good at surprising them all by now, although not always in a good way.

“Bloody idiot, what was he thinking?” Remus muttered.

“I dunno, but when Mulciber started on him apparently Sirius just wheeled round and bloody hit him. Right in the face! James ran up then and tried to grab him back but Sirius weren’t having none of it and just kept going till the teachers came.” Peter seemed more excited at the prospect of the fight than concerned for Sirius, but when they finally arrived at the hospital wing, he could see why. Sirius already had a bit of a black eye forming and there was a plaster above his left eyebrow; Mulciber had apparently retaliated in the same way as Sirius, forgetting his wand as soon as Sirius threw the first punch, because it was clear there was no magical damage done. However, despite everything, Sirius seemed in perfectly good spirits. If anything, he was pretty smug at what he’d done and he even pointed out the curtained area where Mulciber was lying and proudly boasted that the guy looked much worse than he did.

“Got his lip, and I think I broke one of his teeth,” he smiled. Remus sat next to him and glared at the boy.

“Are you insane?” he accused. “You could get expelled!”

“I didn’t, though! McGonagall came round after I got fixed up and said I had detention for two months. Nobody gets expelled, it’s too dangerous. I’ve got to clean the classrooms after school, though.” He finally frowned at the thought.

“You could have been hurt way worse, idiot,” said James, who was sitting on the other side of the bed, but didn’t seem that annoyed with him. Secretly, he thought the fight was pretty awesome and wanted to hear all the details once he knew that Sirius was fine. “What if he’d taken his wand out? You know what those Slytherin blokes are like. Nasty old buggers, he could have killed you.”

“He wouldn’t have killed me, and who cares? Point is, he didn’t take his wand out and I got the bastard square in the face.”

“But why?” asked Lily, who was more curious than anything. Marlene was sitting there enthralled, much more entertained than she’d been in the library. “I mean, I know people say he’s a dick and all, but he didn’t actually do anything to you.” Sirius finally looked a bit sheepish at the question.

“Well… I don’t know really. His family are big death eaters, real You-Know-Who supporters and…” Remus rolled his eyes.

“Let me guess, this was your attempt at proving to us that you’re not like your family.”

“Did it work?”

“By nearly getting your arse kicked for no reason? I told you to just talk to Jethro, not get into a fight with some random Slytherin.”

“He’s not random. He’ll probably tell his parents, who’ll tell my parents and they’ll be extremely angry and probably hate me, so it wasn’t for nothing.” Remus hadn’t thought about that. It was stupid what Sirius did, but it was also quite a big sacrifice on his part.

“Well, I think now is as good a time as any to take my advice and talk to Jethro. He’ll probably agree just to stop you from getting killed.”

“He’s not going to kill me.” Yeah, thought Remus, but you’ve made yourself a target now, and Mulciber knows you have muggleborn friends. A relationship with his parents wasn’t the only thing Sirius had sacrificed with his impulsiveness.

Jethro, it turned out, had heard about the fight and was not happy. He went up to Sirius after he’d been discharged from the hospital wing and after hearing exactly why Sirius had picked a fight with Mulciber.

“I hope the black eye was worth it, because getting into a fight was not the way to get my attention.”

“You wouldn’t speak to me.”

“How do you know, you didn’t even try.” Remus refrained from saying I told you so.

“So you will talk to me?”

“I don’t exactly have a choice, but yes. We should talk.” Jethro allowed Sirius into the dorm room, while the others hung back to give the two some privacy. Peter started up a game of gobstones with Remus, James, Lily and Marlene. It lasted around half an hour because that’s how long it took for Sirius and Jethro to reemerge. Everyone studied the two to work out if there was any remaining animosity between the two, but they seemed fine. They weren’t arm in arm or anything, but things seemed to have had at least been resolved, and Sirius looked more than a little relieved.

Jethro left the common room to meet Owain in the greenhouses but Sirius came over to tell them what had happened.

“He was okay, he didn’t get angry or anything,” said Sirius. “Just explained his point of view and stuff. We both said sorry, and… look!” Sirius brought out a small, portable radio from behind him. Remus recognised it: it was Tobin’s radio.

“We made a truce basically, and Jethro gave me the radio cos Tobin gave it to me once and Jeth said perhaps Tobin would want me to have it.” He ran a finger over the speakers and Remus looked at it sadly.

“Don’t break it,” he said.

“I won’t! I’ll protect it with my life.”

Since the fight, Sirius walked around with his head held high. He didn’t seem to be bragging as such, because that wouldn’t exactly be appropriate if he was trying to prove something to them, not to mention the fact that no one had asked him to get himself into trouble in the way that he had, but he seemed proud of himself. It had been a closing point for him, Mulciber being almost a metaphor for Sirius’s entire upbringing, and whether it was a dumb move or not, Remus understood that perhaps it was necessary for him, cathartic in a way. He seemed a lot happier, too. Or at least, Remus thought he was.

Remus didn’t know that Sirius had been interacting quite a bit with his brother, or rather, he’d been attempting to. He’d been trying to reach out to him, to try and talk to him about their family, but Regulus was still having none of it. Regulus was, in turn, trying to reach Sirius in the opposite direction, back to their family and their “beliefs”. But if Regulus was stubborn, Sirius was even more so, and any conversation between the two always ended in unresolved tension.

After the fight, however, Sirius gave up. He didn’t try to reach his brother anymore, deciding once and for all that Regulus was a lost cause who was only going to get worse as the years went on. He could stay vigilant, determined to keep his brother away from the Slytherin influence, but Sirius didn’t think the pain was worth it anymore, especially for something that seemed so futile in the first place. Sirius had no choice but to let go of his brother, and naturally, he wasn’t taking it well.

He was angrier than usual, that was for certain. He snapped at a lot of people, mostly Slytherins, but he even dared to talk back to teachers when he was in a particularly foul mood. The others were in a similar situation with the grief of losing Tobin, but Sirius was in a worse condition, both with Tobin and his brother, which was a double loss in a way. He was at risk of getting into another fight, and not just to prove something anymore, but simply for the sake of it. To let out his pent up aggression and get his revenge on those who’d corrupted his brother; if he couldn’t take it out on his family, or his parents— which not even he was brave enough to do— then he’d take it out on the future death eater students who even so much as looked at him funny.

He was undoubtedly putting himself at a big risk. As soon as wind started to get around that he was being antagonistic towards the Slytherins, they would be quick to get their own back, determined to duel the traitor and shove his face in the dirt so to speak. James had to elect himself as bodyguard and he was fending off as many Slytherins as Sirius was provoking.

Each day now usually included Sirius saying a snarky comment to a passing Slytherin, maybe a dirty look or a rude hand gesture for good measure and the student would get up in his face with their wand raised, and Sirius would refuse to back down. They’d be nose to nose before James could get between them, or a teacher would pass by and tell them off. It was as if Sirius had single-handedly planted the seeds to a war, and none of them were happy about it. Especially when James began to be influenced by his friend and became less of a diffuser and more of an enabler. In fact, sometimes it was James who started a provocation and soon the Gryffindors had to keep an eye on both of them for fear of either one of them starting a fight.

Remus tried to step in, with the help of the other halfbloods and muggleborns, because it was them who were going to end up caught in the crossfire.

“If you keep pissing off the Slytherins they’re going to go after us eventually,” Remus warned. “They’re not going to touch you because of your family, but we’re easy targets.”

“I’ve already got hassled by a bunch of Slytherin girls, and I’ve at least got Severus to defend me,” said Lily. “You’re not doing us any favours.”

“I’m sorry,” said Sirius, looking genuinely guilty. “They just annoy me so much that I don’t really think, you know? I’ve met all of their families over the years, and I hate all of them.”

“Yeah, fine, but maybe start thinking,” replied Remus. “And you, James. You’re not helping either.” James apologised as well. 

“I lose control a bit,” he explained. “I’m not really thinking either, I just go for it and then regret it after.”

“Then maybe you two shouldn’t be hanging out so much,” suggested Lily. “You’re both bad influences on each other.”

“We’re not!” Sirius defended. “We’ll just be more careful from now on.”

“Just stay low,” said Remus. “Don’t even talk to the Slytherins, ignore them. Believe me, I’d like to punch them as much as you do, but we can’t for our own safety.” Remus had just as much of a temper than Sirius, but so far he had kept it under control. He knew he was capable of starting a fistfight with some ignorant pureblood, but he couldn’t risk it. Tobin’s death had put everything into perspective and the purebloods in the Slytherin house couldn’t be thought of as harmless children anymore. After all, they wouldn’t be children forever; most of them would grow up and become followers of You-Know-Who, and Remus wasn’t about to be their first victim. Sirius was going through a mess of internal conflict right now, and all Remus could do was stop him from doing anything stupid.

Which ended up being pretty hypocritical of him. But in Remus’s defence, Corban Yaxley cornered him in the hallway, knocked the books from his hand, took one glance at the cover of Remus’s copy of Anne of Green Gables and called him a girl.

He deserved to have his nose bent.

Remus was not in the mood for conflict, because after the last few weeks he’d had, his temper was starting to reach boiling point, and he really needed to calm down before he erupted and ended up in as much trouble as Sirius. So the last thing he needed was a run in with Yaxley, another pureblood, Slytherin and part of the Sacred 28. Certainly not someone to be messed with.

Yaxley was clearly getting his own back on Sirius, who had no doubt pissed him off at some point, and was looking for an easy target. Remus was such a target, not being known as anyone particularly scary or tough or even known at all. Not only that, but he was half-blood, so Yaxley had a good reason to pick on him.

The hall was relatively empty at the time, so Remus was fairly exposed, but even so he wasn’t really looking where he was going. When Yaxley knocked into him, he quickly lost his balance and nearly fell flat on the ground. He only just managed to stay upright, but his books weren’t so lucky. They fell from his arms, and when Remus went to pick them up, Yaxley blocked him.

“Not so fast, mudblood,” he spat, and Remus straightened up to face him defiantly. “You got in my way.”

“You pushed me.”

“You’re calling me a liar?”

“No.” Yes. But Remus stopped himself from arguing further. Yaxley was staring at him with piercing grey eyes and a fierce scowl on his face. He was clearly not someone to be argued with, and Remus could only hope to leave without hassle. Yaxley kicked the pile of books on the floor.

“What’s this muggle shit?” He picked up the book on top of the pile and looked at the cover. Remus suppressed a wince. His mum had sent it to him, saying she’d loved it herself when she was young, so he wanted to read it for her sake. Unfortunately, the cover showed a smiling girl carrying a basket of flowers and all in all, it was an embarrassing book to be caught with, for a boy at least. For Remus especially, he certainly didn’t want someone like Yaxley seeing him with it. Yaxley let out a short laugh.

“What kind of girly crap is this?” he mocked, and Remus was desperate to grab it from his hands and run.

“It’s just a book, give it back.” Remus reached for it, but Yaxley pulled it back quickly.

“Slow down there, Welshie, I’m still looking.” He turned it round and read the back. “Aw, it’s about a freckle-faced eleven year old girl who lives on a farm. Isn’t that sweet?”

“Give it back.”

“Give it back!” He put on a terrible Welsh accent, but talked much higher than Remus did, making him sound like a girl. “Fine, have your little book back, girlie.” He chucked it at Remus.

“Shut up.”

“Merlin, you mudbloods are so pathetic. What do your filthy muggle parents think of their little girl, huh?” He grinned a sickening grin and that did it. It was basically a perfect amalgamation of what not to say to Remus if you wanted to keep your teeth intact. The insult to Remus’s parents was almost reason enough, but the “little girl” was the last straw and it hit him so hard that all he could do was throw it back at Yaxley in the form of a pretty messy punch.

Remus wasn’t exactly a fighter, and it wasn’t like in the films where a perfect punch was thrown squarely on the chin of the other person. Remus hit him, but he sort of caught the side of Yaxley’s nose. It was a hard hit, possibly enough to leave damage, but only because he more or less whacked him with the side of his fist rather than straight on.

But Remus didn’t regret it, at least, not immediately. The “little girl” had set him on edge and he was determined to hurt Yaxley enough to hide the fact that he’d been hurt even more with just one word. Yaxley reeled back holding his face in his hands and at the brief distraction, Remus turned back the way he came so he could run round the corner before Yaxley even noticed he had gone. Yaxley would almost certainly try to chase him, but Remus had an ace up his sleeve; knowledge of the secret passages. Remus found a small opening to a rather hidden staircase that he recognised enough to find his way well away from Yaxley. When he’d almost reached a passageway that would lead him back to his common room, he stopped and leant against the wall to catch his breath.

The last five minutes raced through his head, and he finally started to regret his decision a little. He’d calmed down considerably and he realised now that Yaxley wasn’t likely to drop this. Remus had escaped now, but Yaxley could get his mates to go after him, and then what would he do? He couldn’t take them all on, whether he used magic or not. He’d basically set himself up for disaster.

“Idiot,” he muttered to himself. Not only that, but he hadn’t had a chance to pick up the rest of his books, which meant he’d have to go back for them. Of course, he still had one book. Anne of bloody Green Gables. He held it up and glowered at it. He didn’t care if it was his mam’s favourite, there was no way he could keep it. He didn’t want some stupid girl’s book anyway.

He chucked it in the nearest bin.

Chapter Text

Remus had no choice but to tell his friends what had happened with Yaxley, if only to warn them to keep away from him, but Sirius and James were livid.

“The bastard,” muttered Sirius, hand poised near his wand. “I have a right mind to knock him out.”

“Already tried that,” replied Remus. “And now I’m gonna have him breathing down my neck for the rest of the year.”

“He’s a dick,” said James. “If he tries anything we’ll have your back, mate.” Peter nodded along with them.

“I’m getting really good at blocking spells,” he informed. “So I could help too.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want any of you to fight him. I’ll just keep out of his way.”

Remus did a good job at keeping out of Yaxley’s way, if only because he stayed close to his friends and didn’t wander off unnecessarily. He couldn't move freely through the castle anymore for fear of running into Yaxley or any of his mates but he didn’t think the risk was worth it. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t caught any glimpses of Yaxley because he had, mainly in the Great Hall at lunch or dinner time. Yaxley would accidentally catch his eye and glare at him, and Remus simply couldn’t hold his gaze for long before breaking eye contact. He did, however, note with a certain satisfaction that Yaxley still looked fairly bruised around his nose.

All in all though, Yaxley seemed reluctant to cause a scene, so Remus pretty much got away with it. Until a few of Yaxley’s friends decided to take it upon themselves to cause a scene for him.

Lunchtime was always ideal for a quick fight. No one knew why, because it was also the ideal time to get caught by a teacher. But if Remus was stupid enough to sit by the oak tree, which was a good couple of hundred yards away from the courtyard where the teachers roamed, then he was asking to be cornered.

His friends were supposed to be there, but something was delaying them, so he was completely exposed. A perfect target for the two Slytherin boys that came towards him: Amycus Carrow and Geraint Goyle. Both third years, and both very scary indeed.

Remus had nowhere to run; he saw them heading towards him when they were only a few metres ahead, and he only just had time to put his book down and stand up, pressing his back against the tree trunk behind him.

“Oi, mudblood!” shouted Goyle. “Out here on your own, are you?” They finally reached him and stood there, Carrow with his arms folded and Goyle with his arms at his side. Both looked as threatening as each other.

“No,” replied Remus.

“Don’t see anyone else here.”

“There will be. My friends. And we’re not scared of you.” It was a weak statement, but Remus didn’t want to silently take whatever the two would throw at him. All it did, however, was make them laugh.

“Aw, did you hear that, Carrow? His friends aren’t scared!” Carrow grinned.

“Good! Hopefully it will make things more interesting.”

“Just leave me alone, I haven’t done anything to you.”

“No, but you went after Yaxley, didn’t you?” Goyle asked rhetorically. “He’s our friend, you know.”

“I didn’t go after him. He was being a dick and I defended myself.” Carrow came nearer, circling around him like he was sniffing out his prey.

“You’ll have to repeat yourself, mudblood, I can barely understand your ridiculous accent.” Remus refrained himself from replying, mostly because the only reply he could think of was calling Carrow an idiot. Remus bit the inside of his cheek instead.

“Yaxley was right,” continued Goyle, going to Remus’s side, opposite to Carrow. They had him properly surrounded, and all Remus could do was ignore whatever they were planning on teasing him with. “He looks like a wimp.” Goyle prodded at his arms, checking out the almost non-existent biceps. Remus harshly pulled his arm away which only made Goyle smile even more, happy at the reaction he was getting from him.

“Bet he fights like a girl.”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry? Didn’t catch that. Must have been speaking Welsh.”

“Oi!” All three boys looked in the direction of the sudden interruption, and were met with Sirius, James and Peter, standing there with wands raised.

“Oh look, it’s your boyfriends,” sneered Carrow. He raised his wand at them, Goyle following suit. It quickly became a stand off, but Remus didn’t want his friends getting into trouble over some stupid Slytherins, so he tried to get between them before any hexes could be cast. He walked over to Sirius, who was at the forefront, staring in fury at Carrow and Goyle.

“Just leave it,” Remus ordered. “All of you, it’s not worth it.”

“Oi, Welshie. Move over will you, you’re getting in the way of a good fight.” Remus turned around to face Carrow instead, but James interjected.

“Don’t speak to him like that, arsehole,” he said, moving to stand beside Sirius. Carrow stepped forward, his infuriating smirk disappearing as he neared James.

“What are you going to do about it, speccy?” The two were close together, a staring contest ensuing and a fight imminent if Remus didn’t step in. But James laughed.

“Speccy? Is that all you’ve got? That’s pathetic.”

“Oh is it? How about this then?” He raised his wand again, directly at James, and before anyone could react he shouted “Stupefy!” and James flew backwards, falling onto the ground with a hard thump, completely stunned. Peter ran over to him, while Sirius yelled in anger and flourished his own wand, clearly intent on causing some real damage towards Carrow.

“Expelliarmus!” Carrow’s wand flew out of his hand, but it was Remus who had casted the spell. Goyle rushed forward to defend his friend with his own magic, but Remus was too quick and soon both the boys were disarmed. Remus held his wand underneath Carrow’s chin; he didn’t want to duel them, but he wasn’t above threatening them. Especially if they hurt his friends.

“It’s three against two, and neither of you are armed,” said Remus. He barely had to raise his voice above a whisper, close as he was to Carrow’s face. “What do you want to do? Because I’m fine with hexing you directly to the fucking neck.” The muscles in Carrow’s cheek visibly tensed as he fought back a retort. He was deciding whether or not Remus was quick enough to hex him before he had a chance to push him away. Sirius was stood next to him by this point, adding to the danger that Carrow and Goyle now found themselves in. Carrow breathed out his anger at them.

“Fine,” he almost choked out, furious that the tables were turned. “But come near us again and you’re dead.”

“I’d like to see you try,” remarked Sirius. Carrow defiantly pulled back from where Remus’s wand was digging into his neck.

“You're lucky you had your little friends to back you up.” Carrow and Goyle left them standing near the tree, and as soon as they were out of sight, Remus and Sirius rushed over to James’s side. Peter had revived him with the counter curse, and he was sitting up, looking extremely annoyed at himself.

“Those bastards,” he muttered.

“Are you alright?” Asked Remus. “You didn’t have to get involved.”

“What, I was just gonna sit back and let them bully you?”

“No, but I didn’t want you to get hurt. You’re not hurt are you?”

“I’m fine. Wasn’t quick enough to cast the shielding spell though.” He stood up in a huff.

“Carrow was standing right in front of you,” Sirius comforted. “Of course you couldn't cast the spell in time. He’s a coward.”

“Let’s just go back to the castle.”

“Do you think the teachers will know we used magic outside of class?” Peter asked, terrified they’d be expelled.

“It’s the corridors we’re not allowed to use magic in,” Sirius reminded. “I think it’s fair play outside.”

“I’m not sure about that, but if they don’t see it happen I don’t see how they’d know,” said Remus.

“Well, they know when you use it outside of Hogwarts. Then they expel you.”

“Yeah, but it’s not outside of Hogwarts. I think it’s fine, we’ve used simple spells outside before and nothing’s happened.”

“Hopefully. We’re lucky no one saw at least.”

They returned to the castle, on edge for the entire day in case they’d suddenly be called to McGonagall’s office, or maybe even Dumbledore’s office, to be informed that— Remus at least, and possibly Peter as well for his reviving spell— would be expelled for using magic.

“The only benefit is that Carrow would have to be expelled as well,” reminded James.

Luckily for them, there seemed to be no indication from the teachers that they were in trouble, or even any indication that they knew about the fight at all, otherwise they definitely would have been called into McGonagall’s office at some point during the day. By the evening, they had to assume that they had gotten away with the fight. It was a bit irritating to know that Carrow had also got away with it as well, but at the expense of them getting expelled, or at least targeted by the rest of the Slytherin house, they weren’t exactly going to grass him up.

Lily found out about the fight, only because Remus told her about it. He didn’t have a need to hide the fight from his other friends, because they weren’t going to tell on him, and if anything he couldn't help feeling a little proud of the way he’d stood up to Carrow. He hadn’t known himself to be much of a fighter, or even much of a threaten-er in any way, but Hogwarts had so far debunked that, and at least it made him look cool in front of his friends.

Lily didn’t seem to think so though, and while she didn’t disapprove of how Remus handled the fight (“Carrow definitely deserved it.”), she wasn’t particularly understanding of why the Slytherin animosity towards Remus had started in the first place.

“So what if Yaxley called you a girl?” Asked Lily, not looking up from the book she was reading. “What’s wrong with being a girl?”

“Nothing, that’s not what I meant.”

“I hate it when boys get so angry at being called a girl. Like it’s an insult.”

“I don’t think it’s an insult, it’s more… .” Remus trailed off. How could he possibly explain why he hated being called a girl without telling Lily everything? “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.” She looked up, staring at him expectantly, but Remus shook his head.

“No, it’s fine. You’re right, it’s not an insult. I’m sorry.” She seemed to accept the apology, and continued reading, but Remus was fidgeting now. He really did want to tell her everything, just to get it out in the open. He’d been desperate to confide in someone ever since he’d arrived, nearly two years ago now. Surely he couldn’t go another how many years with only his parents knowing?

It’s not as if he didn’t love the idea that everyone at school only saw him as a boy, that they had no reason to see him as anything other than a boy, because he really did. And it was the main reason he hadn’t said anything in the first place, but also because he didn’t know how people would react, and he didn’t want to risk it.

But what he hadn’t accounted for was how hard it was not to say something. While it was a secret he wanted to keep, it was a secret nonetheless. Keeping it to himself was like carrying around a ticking bomb. A pressure cooker that was dying for some sort of release.

“Actually,” Remus began, putting his own book down but not meeting Lily’s eyes. Not yet, at least. He had no idea if he was about to tell her what he thought he was going to tell her; he was just going to have to see. “There is a reason I don’t want people calling me a girl but… you might not get it.”

“What is it?”

“Um.” Someone was going to find out eventually, thought Remus, and the last thing he wanted was for it to come out the same way his lycanthropy had been exposed: against his own will. Discovered by someone else before he had the chance to even decide if he wanted to tell anyone or not.

He wanted this to be on his own terms, and the window he had for that opportunity was getting smaller and smaller as time went on. Perhaps he should tell Sirius or James or Peter first, but he needed to test the waters first. If they reacted badly he wouldn’t have anyone to fall back on, and that scared him. At least if Lily reacted badly, while it would hurt terribly, at least he’d still have his best friends and he would continue to keep the secret to himself. Unless she told everyone of course...

“Do you… know what transgender means?” Lily looked at him blankly. It was out now, the conversation had been started. If he retracted now, he may be able to get away with it before he went too far and there was no going back. But he sort of wanted to see how far he could get. Maybe he’d get so far he wouldn’t even notice telling her at all.

“No?”

“It means when someone’s born a man or a woman, but they feel like the opposite gender instead.”

“Oh. I’ve never heard of that.”

“Yeah, it’s not really well known at all, but it exists. And there’s nothing wrong with it, it’s not like… Well, I don’t know how to explain it.”

“So like, if someone is a man but they think they’re a woman?”

“Sort of? But it’s not that they think they are. They just are.”

“Okay…” Lily seemed to be vaguely grasping the concept, but she wasn’t giving him a lot of indication that she was accepting of it, per se.

“Let’s say, you knew a boy,” he continued, and he knew he was about to cross the line of going too far. There was no turning back now. “But they told you that they were actually born a girl. But that they were a boy, so you still call them a boy and everything but you just… oh Merlin, I don’t know.” He sat back in his seat. “This is harder than I thought.” He looked up at the ceiling and had to just hope that Lily was getting the point he was making, that his explanation was making enough sense to avoid even more questions.

Lily placed a hand on his arm.

“Remus,” she said. “Are you trying to tell me that you’re transgender?” Remus lowered his head and met her gaze. Slowly, he nodded. She retracted her arm, but only to sit back and think.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“So, you want to be a woman?”

“No! No, I was born a girl. But, I’m a boy.” Lily raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“I had no idea!”

“Well, good. That’s sort of the whole point.” He smiled nervously.

“But, you sound like a boy and you have, you’ve got a moustache slightly.”

“I take this potion that changes my girl hormones into boy ones. It’s complicated, I won’t bore you with it.”

“I didn’t even know that sort of magic existed. That’s cool.”

“Just, tell me if… You’re okay with it, right? It would kill me if you saw me as a girl now, because I’m really not one. Everyone here sees me as a boy, and I don’t want to change that, but it’s so hard to keep it to myself.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I don’t think I could see you as a girl even if I tried.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’re just Remus. It’s fine. I may have to read about it more though because I don’t quite understand it yet, but I’m okay with it.”

“Good. Great. I’m okay with answering questions, if you want, but please don’t ask what my old name was, or anything like that. I don’t want people to know.”

“Alright, I won’t. But if I do ask anything you’re not comfortable with, you don’t have to answer. Just tell me.”

“Thank you.” Remus couldn’t help but think this was about as ideal a coming out as he could hope for. He felt instantly lighter the second Lily assured him that she accepted him and still thought of him as a boy, and it was a fantastic feeling finally getting it off his chest. He didn’t realise how much he had wanted to tell someone, but now it was out he struggled to shove it back down. It was weird too, because he always assumed coming out to one of his friends would be embarrassingly emotional, that he’d end up crying in relief and hugging the recipient. None of that happened, however, and it was more a relief than the actual coming out. He certainly did feel like crying, but he was just happy that Lily was still talking to him more than anything. The two just went back to their books and nothing more needed to be said, at least not at that moment. He was sure she'd ask a lot of questions at a later date, but she had apparently decided that now wasn’t an appropriate time, even though this was probably the only time that Remus would be happy to answer, elated as he was at his coming out success. But the silence was nice too. It was normal, and normal was what he wanted.

To Lily’s credit, she didn’t ask many questions at all over the following week. Her main qualm was the lack of books that had any information on trans people. She couldn’t find anything, not even a mention of wizards or witches who were like Remus.

“Yeah I know,” said Remus, who was used to feeling like he was the only trans person who existed and didn’t think much of Lily’s distress. “Believe me, I’ve searched. My mam found a few newspaper articles at a library once, but there’s not much at all.”

“But why?”

“I guess because no one talks about it. I don’t know. If we’re being honest, I have no idea how many trans people there are in the world. Maybe there just… aren’t enough? If there wasn’t medical evidence for it, I’d assume I was the only one.”

“That’s pretty lonely.” Remus shrugged.

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to tell the others?” She asked, changing the subject a little. It was the only question she asked that Remus didn’t like because he had no idea. He wanted to. After telling Lily, he felt like he was on a roll, but he was far too scared. He didn’t want to lose Sirius or James or Peter, nor did he want them to hate him. So he sort of just ignored the entire issue altogether.

And he had a good reason to put it to one side as well: Tobin’s funeral was coming up, and the Gryffindor boys had been asked to attend.

Chapter Text

The funeral was near the end of July, just as the summer holidays had started. It was easier that way, so Tobin’s friends would have no trouble attending. Except for Sirius, whose parents had no intention of letting him go, and chances are, Sirius hadn’t even told his parents in the first place. Remus was going with his mum, and everyone else would be with parents or family members as well, so Sirius’s absence left a noticeable gap in the little group.

Remus had only been to one funeral before, when he was seven and Lyall’s father had died. He didn’t remember much about it, except that he had to wear black and sit very still. He’d hated it, mostly because he wasn’t out as trans to a lot of the family and other guests who arrived. He begged to wear a suit like his father, but Lyall said it would cause a scene, which simply wasn’t appropriate. Remus had therefore been forced to wear a black dress and matching cardigan, as well as face being called his old name the entire night. Mixed in with the grief of losing a grandfather, it was possibly the worst day of his life.

But now, he felt like he could grieve properly. He didn’t have to be focused on horrible dresses and misgendering instead of mourning the person who had died. His mother picked out a suit for him, gave him a haircut in order to neaten up his appearance, and the two set off from Wales down to County Durham where the funeral was taking place in a local church. Remus didn’t know what to expect when he arrived, and unlike at his grandfather’s funeral, he didn’t know a single person there. He hoped he’d be able to stick with his friends the entire time, but he also didn’t want to be rude. He felt out of place, like he shouldn’t be there. Tobin’s family were already dealing with losing not only Tobin, but his parents too. Remus couldn’t imagine the sort of grief they were going through, and he felt like he was imposing.

“Welcome,” greeted a lady standing in front of the church doors. “Thank you for coming.” She was dressed all in black and Remus didn’t know if she was family or not, but he shook her hand anyway, as did Hope, and the lady handed them a program. Everyone talked in low voices and people were quick to make their way silently to the rows of pews in the church. Remus was one of them, keen to duck away from the rest of the congregation and take his seat in the back row with his mum. He searched around for some of his friends, and spotted Jethro nearer to the front. He was sitting next to Owain. Remus decided against going up to them in case they weren’t in the mood to say hello, and settled back into his seat instead. He tried to stop focusing on his own awkwardness around Tobin’s bereaved family, and instead focus on why he was actually here: to say goodbye to Tobin. He could see the open casket from where he was sitting, but he couldn’t see inside it. He didn’t know if he wanted to see inside it. The last time he saw Tobin was around two months ago now, and he had been alive and well and happy. Seeing him now, cold and still in his coffin, Remus didn’t think he could handle the sight. He didn’t even want to think about the sight, but his only other distraction was the music that was playing, and all it did was make him even more upset. He didn’t know what the music was, some sort of classical piece. Mozart, or Beethoven or one of the composers that not even he cared much about. Tobin would have hated it. Remus didn’t know the extent of his friend’s music taste, but he was fairly certain that string quartets had never once been mentioned. The rest of Tobin’s family either didn’t know him well enough, or didn’t care enough to play something that Tobin actually liked, and Remus was too inexplicably angry to feel guilty for even thinking that. He had no right to say he knew Tobin better than the boy’s own family, but for Merlin’s sake, it wasn’t fair that Tobin had no say in the music used at his own funeral. At least Remus would know to play a Beatles song, or a Pink Floyd song, or anything from the top charts that wasn’t written a hundred years ago by a dead person.

“I don’t want to be here,” Remus whispered to his mum. “I feel sick.” Hope put an arm around him.

“I know, sweetheart, but we can’t leave,” she said. Remus sunk down into the crook of her arm and leant against her. He didn’t care that he was thirteen and probably looked a right baby; his mam was the only comfort he had and he wanted to stay next to her. It could’ve been her in that coffin, targeted by a muggle attack while Remus was away at school. The thought made him shiver and he kept her arm around his shoulders for at least a few minutes, ignoring the wrong music playing around him.

The service started in ten minutes, and during that time, more people filtered into the church. Once Remus saw Lily enter the church with her parents, his pride finally got the better of him and he straightened up in his seat, lightly pulling away from his mother. He caught Lily’s eye, and she came to sit next to him.

“How are you?” Lily asked softly.

“I’ve been better. You?”

“Yeah, same.” She looked to the front of the church, where the coffin was sat and a picture of Tobin was standing next to it. The boy in the picture was smiling, his eyes bright and alive. Remus knew for a fact that the boy lying next to it didn’t resemble the picture at all.

“Is he up there?” Lily whispered. “In the coffin?” She sounded scared, not curious. She knew he was up there, but she disliked the image of him so close to them just as much as Remus did.

“I don’t know, I haven’t been up.”

“We go up at the end, but I don’t know if I want to.”

“Me neither.” Remus looked over her shoulder and saw her parents talking to each other in equally low voices. He’d never met them before, he’d only caught glimpses of them on the platform. Lily’s father looked remarkably like her, but it was her mother who had the same bright red hair.

“Is your sister here?” Remus asked. Lily shook her head.

“She’s at a friend’s house. Didn’t want to come, because she doesn’t know Tobin.”

“Oh. My dad didn’t want to come either. Said he’d be imposing.” Remus had inherited his social awkwardness from someone. “This is my mum, though.” Remus introduced Lily to Hope. The two shook hands, and made light conversation before Lily introduced her parents instead. Remus said hello, but he and Lily discreetly moved away so their parents would be sitting next to each other and could talk without craning over their children.

James entered then with his parents, and Peter soon followed. Remus waved them over, and there was a very solemn game of musical chairs as the kids sat together on one row while the parents sat right behind them. They became the group at the back who had no connection to anyone else in the building except for the boy in the coffin, and it was rather obvious. The parents talked quietly amongst themselves, having only their children and the wizarding world in common, while the muggles in the room, a lot of whom had no idea about the wizarding world at all, sat in relative silence, heads bowed.

The children, on the other hand, made little conversation. Their parents hadn’t known Tobin, but they had. They didn’t want to talk, and they didn’t need to introduce themselves. They were content in sitting next to each other, hands folded on laps and waiting in silence for the service to begin. If truth be told, they were all a bit overwhelmed by the whole thing. At school, after Tobin’s death, it all just felt like one horrible nightmare that they would soon wake up from. But now it had an inescapable finality to it, with their nightmare turning into reality right before their eyes as Tobin’s grieving family surrounded them. Remus thought about Sirius, and how he’d feel if he were here. Shell-shocked from the muggle ceremony probably, but similarly angry about the music choices. The others didn’t know about the music, but Remus and Sirius had listened to Tobin’s radio together and talked about bands that they couldn’t believe Sirius didn’t know about. Sirius only listened to classical music, and Tobin wasn’t having that.

Tobin didn’t like classical music.

“Family and friends of the deceased—.” The priest had stood up at the podium and was making the first introduction. The hum of soft murmuring disappeared immediately.

“Thank you all for gathering here today to honour the life and passing of Tobin Anthony Hyslop.” Remus didn’t know that Tobin’s middle name was Anthony. And Tobin would never know what Remus’s middle name was: John, after his mum’s grandfather. The name she had wanted to call him if he had been born a boy. It was unofficial of course, both of his names were unofficial, but they were his. Tobin had no idea.

“This is a sad, sad day for us all. The loss of anyone is always devastating, but the loss of a child is unimaginable. Today, however, is about celebrating Tobin. Today is about remembering him with love and joy in our hearts.” Did this priest even know Tobin? Or was he simply hired for the day? Regardless, everything he said felt cheap to Remus. The entire funeral was making him feel cynical, and he was taking it out on his own thoughts.

“I ask you all to join me in prayer…” Everyone in the church bowed their heads, hands joined together and listened to the priest petition God for the next few minutes. Remus had his head down, his eyes closed, his hands together, everything he was supposed to do, but he barely heard a word. He just couldn’t stop thinking about how bored Tobin would be if he were here right now.

“Amen.” Another hum went round the church as everyone repeated the end of the prayer. Remus only just managed to refocus and say it in time. After the prayer, they had to sit through a passage of the Bible that the priest read out in a booming voice that seemed inappropriate after all the silence before the service. Was Tobin even religious? He’d never mentioned it before, but even Remus wasn’t cynical enough to disapprove of a family who clearly needed the religious comfort.

After the priest finished speaking, everyone was then asked to open their program and find the lyrics to The Lord’s My Shepherd, a hymn that they were now supposed to sing. Remus hadn’t actually opened the program yet. He had taken one look at the picture of Tobin smiling up at him and had shoved it into his jacket’s breast pocket. He took it out now and opened it. There were only a few pages, the first page outlining the service, the second page with the lyrics of the hymn and another page with more lyrics. Clearly, there was going to be more singing later on. The next hymn was called Lead, Kindly Light.

They could have at least sung Imagine by John Lennon. Anything that Tobin would have preferred rather than sombre old hymns that were only fit for the funerals of grandparents. But then again, who ever expects to need the knowledge of planning the funeral for a child? Especially when the only people who would know the child well enough were the parents, and in this case, they had been caught up in the muggle attack too. Tobin’s family were far too despairing over their loss of three family members to care about who Tobin listened to on his radio. After he had this thought, Remus finally put his cynicism to rest, and joined in with the hymn.

At Remus’s grandfather’s funeral, an obituary had been read out, but they didn’t do that here. After the hymn, they went straight to the eulogies, and once again, Remus felt like he was imposing.

A man stood up first, who looked to be in his early or late twenties, and started reading out his speech. With the first words “My brother”, Remus’s heart sank into his stomach. He didn’t know that Tobin had an older brother; he’d never mentioned him before, or at least, Remus had never asked. He thought Tobin was an only child. But he couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like for the man in front of him to have lost both his little brother and his parents in such a short space of time. He was clearly trying to hold back tears the entire time he was speaking, telling stories of Tobin when they were younger, and expressing regret that he hadn’t been around as much as he should’ve been for the last few years.

“Tobin died far too young,” said Tobin’s brother, his voice finally cracking after spending five minutes trying to stay level. “And I’m only sorry that I wasn’t there to see the end of it.” Perhaps he had more to say, none of them knew, because he excused himself to sit back down. He couldn’t continue anymore, so other speakers stood up to take his place instead. Tobin’s grandparents, an aunt, an uncle, and a cousin who looked no more than five years old reading out a poem. The eulogies lasted for around half an hour, and it was getting harder and harder for Remus to keep it together. He noticed Lily crying quietly beside him and he offered a hand out to her for comfort. She took it, and leant against his shoulder.

Jethro was the last to give a eulogy, and Remus had no idea he was going to be speaking, so it was a surprise when Jethro was called up. Before, Remus had tried not to listen to the eulogies, because he didn’t want to start crying, but he listened to Jethro. Jethro was his friend, and he wanted to give him the respect of listening, even if it meant that Lily may not end up being the only one in tears by the end of it.

Jethro cleared his throat when he stood up at the podium, and Remus couldn’t imagine how terrified he must have felt. He didn’t think it was very fair that Jethro had been asked to talk in front of people he probably didn’t know at all, assuming that they’d be judging every word he said about Tobin.

“Um... I only knew Tobin for a few years,” Jethro began, his voice only just audible. “But he was my best friend, almost as soon as we met and uh... I’m worried that we may have drifted apart a bit before he... died. But I just hope that he knows I cared about him and I loved having him as my friend, because I didn’t get to tell him when he was still alive.” Jethro took a moment to collect himself, and Remus couldn’t help but notice that this was now the second eulogy that regretted not having spent enough time with Tobin before his death, and it was telling that they were from his brother and his best friend. Perhaps Tobin was much lonelier than Remus realised, and now he regretted how little time he spent with Tobin. Maybe they all did.

“He wanted to be a chef, you know,” Jethro continued, trying to add some lightness to the atmosphere. The priest had insisted this was a celebration after all. “He didn’t get a chance to cook much at school, but he brought stuff from home sometimes and shared them with me. They were always really good. He was already a chef, in my opinion.” Jethro was absentmindedly tapping at the podium, clearly struggling to work out what to do with his hands. He didn’t have any papers in front of him to shuffle; he was improvising his speech, talking from the heart.

“I’m sorry he’s gone, and I’m sorry he died the way he did. But I don’t want to focus on his death because he shouldn’t be defined by that. He should be defined by his cooking, or by his love of the Beatles, or his annoyance whenever me and our friend Owain would talk about plants or gardening because he hated it.” A small ripple of laughter broke through the solemnity, a welcome to all those sitting there. Even Jethro managed a smile.

“That’s who Tobin was, and that’s how I hope he can be remembered.” He briefly thanked the party for listening, both his grief and shyness finally getting the better of him, his speech having been considerably shorter than everyone else’s. He walked from the podium without meeting anyone’s eye and sat back down between Owain and a woman who must have been his mother, because she hugged him from the side and kept an arm around him. Remus wished he was near enough to say well done, or at least give his condolences. He hadn’t yet had a chance to do that.

Once Jethro had sat down, the priest returned to the podium and asked for the congregation to stand up for one last hymn, the song that Remus had spotted beforehand in the program. It was a slow hymn, sad and final. Tobin would have preferred Eleanor Rigby.

“I thank you all for attending today,” said the priest, once the last line of the hymn had been sung. “And for all the wonderful speeches and tributes.” Remus finally allowed himself to clock off completely, falling into a haze of numbing grief. He had kept it at bay throughout the service, but after all the eulogies, and the thought that after today (or tomorrow for the people who were attending the burial) no one would ever see Tobin again, he couldn’t stop himself from sinking down into hidden despair. He’d been to one funeral before, and he knew what happened after everyone was thanked for coming: the viewing of the casket. At his grandfather’s funeral, he’d been taken up to the coffin by his father, the two hand in hand, and Remus had stared at the grey face of his grandpa. The old man’s eyes were closed, to give the illusion that he was just sleeping, but even at the age of seven, Remus knew he wasn’t sleeping. He didn’t look like he was sleeping, and if that’s what people looked like when they were sleeping then Remus hoped he’d never have to see it. His grandfather’s cheeks were sallow, and he looked like he’d be ice cold to the touch. It had freaked Remus out and he’d had to be taken out of the church by his parents. Remus couldn’t bear if the same thing happened again, and he couldn’t possibly go up to see Tobin. Like Jethro said, Remus wanted to remember his friend as he was, not as he was now.

So when Lily asked if he wanted to go up, Remus couldn’t understand why he found himself nodding.

James didn’t want to go up, and Remus wished he had decided the same. It was just as he had imagined, possibly worse. He took one glance at the inside of the casket when he and Lily were finally allowed a look, and his breath caught in his throat so suddenly, his heart beating at double its usual speed. He was convinced he’d have a heart attack or something similar and he had to squeeze his eyes shut. It wasn’t as if Tobin looked gruesome or anything, of course he didn’t. He’d been killed by a curse, he looked completely normal. But it was just like his grandfather. He was supposed to look like he was sleeping but he couldn’t have appeared further from it. He was dead. That was the only conclusion Remus could come to, and he didn’t want to accept it.

“He looks different,” whispered Lily, who seemed to be in a similar conflicted position, struggling to look at the boy in the coffin. “He’s wearing a suit. I’ve never seen him in a suit before.”

“I don’t like seeing him like this.”

“Me neither.” Remus was forcing himself to look at Tobin, and it was causing all sorts of feelings to stir around inside him. “How could he be dead?”

“I don’t know.” Remus and Lily moved to the side to allow other people to pay their respects. They didn’t rejoin their friends yet, and stayed staring in thought at the coffin from near the end of the stage (platform? Remus didn’t know what that part of the church was called).

“I didn’t know he had a brother,” said Remus.

“Me neither. I didn’t know anything about him.”

“His middle name’s Anthony.”

“What’s his brother’s name?”

“I don’t know.” Lily took his hand in hers.

“We should’ve asked.”

“He didn’t know anything about us either.”

“He didn’t know that my middle name’s Josephine.”

“He didn’t know that I’m trans.” The two fell silent. Remus had pinpointed what he was feeling, and it was the sudden awareness of their mortality. He could die tomorrow, his friends could die tomorrow. It put things into perspective, and he wanted to talk to James and Peter.

He wished Sirius was there too.

“We should go outside,” Lily said eventually. “I think the others are there.” Remus nodded and the two made their way through the church to the courtyard in front of it. His mum was speaking to the lady who had greeted them at the entrance, while James and Peter were sitting on a wall, their backs against the church. Remus and Lily sat beside them. Jethro and Owain were nowhere to be seen, but Remus assumed they were talking to the other guests.

“Hey,” greeted James. “How was it?” Remus declined from answering.

“Sad,” answered Lily instead, which was about as simplistic as it could be put.

“I’ve never been to a funeral before,” said Peter. “I knew it was going to be hard, but… Merlin, I hated this. Can I say that?”

“Of course you can,” replied Remus. “The whole thing’s awful.” The group settled into brief silence, simply gazing out at the fields in front of them, the cemetery on their left. They tried not to look at the cemetery.

“We should find Jethro and Owain,” voiced Lily eventually. “I haven’t even said hello to them.”

“They’re still inside I think,” said James. Remus turned around to try and see if Jethro or Owain had reemerged from the church yet, but something caught his eye as he was scanning the area. Hidden in the shadows beside the building, there was someone sitting next to a bush with their knees against their chest, clearly trying to stay hidden. Remus squinted his eyes to see who it was, but the scraggly black hair gave it away.

“Oh my god!” alerted Remus, and the others all turned to him.

“What?” asked James, looking in the same direction as Remus.

“That’s Sirius!” They all scrambled beside him to get a proper look, but by now Sirius had spotted them as well. He waved, and stood up to go behind the bush he was sitting next to, even more hidden than before. They all jumped down from the wall and rushed over to meet him.

“What are you doing here?” was the main question, first put forward by James as they all crouched down in front of Sirius. He looked far more unkempt than he usually did with his hair sticking up all over the place as if he had continuously run a hand through it. His trousers were stained with earth from where he’d been kneeling.

“I couldn’t not come,” he replied. “So I snuck out.”

“You what?”

“Your parents don’t know?” asked Peter. Sirius shook his head.

“Of course not. They think I’m still in my room.” He grinned, but none of them could really see the funny side given their knowledge of Sirius’s parents.

“Surely they’ll notice?” Lily said.

“Probably, but I don’t care.” They all had way more questions, but someone started calling for Lily somewhere, her mother most likely, and she had to reluctantly run off to rejoin her parents. The four boys remained behind the bush.

“How did you even get here?” James continued, none of them yet dropping the subject. “You live hours away.”

“Took the train. I knew my parents wouldn’t let me come so I started collecting muggle money off the street or wherever I could find it. Asked for a loan from a few muggleborns at school. Came all the way up here.”

“You could’ve asked me for a loan,” said Remus, slightly hurt that Sirius hadn’t told them that he was going to sneak out of his house and travel all the way here on his own. “Or you could have just asked one of us to take you.”

“Too risky, and I didn’t want to bother you for money anyhow.”

“Well I hope it was worth it because your parents are going to be pissed,” warned James. Sirius was almost certainly downplaying the entire situation. Remus knew that Sirius’s parents didn’t even like Sirius having his hair long, or being in Gryffindor, or having friends that weren’t in the Sacred 28 even if they were pureblood. If they found out that he had snuck away and used muggle transport to get to a muggle funeral, Remus dreaded to think what their reaction would be. Pissed was an understatement.

“Of course it was worth it. I listened outside the door and heard everything, and besides… I wanted to at least be here. For Tobin.” He looked down at his hands, his voice quieter now. James patted him on the back.

“Listen mate, why don’t you come with me, and my parents can drop you back off at your house. You can’t go back on the train, you won’t be back till it’s dark.”

“Your parents won’t tell on me?”

“Course not. They know what your family’s like. And if we go back now, your parents might not have even noticed.” Sirius didn’t look convinced by the last statement, but he nodded anyway.

“Thanks.” They all stood up and re-emerged round the side of the church. Lily had gone, but Jethro was still there with his mum. Owain must have gone home too.

“Jeth!” called James, going over to him. Remus and Peter followed but Sirius hung back.

“What’s up?” Remus asked.

“Uh, Jethro might not want to see me.”

“I thought you two made up?”

“We did, but still. Plus, I’ll have to explain to him how I’m here and that’s just time-consuming.”

“Alright, we’ll catch you in a minute.” James and Peter were already talking to Jethro when Remus approached.

“Your speech was great,” James was saying.

“Thanks,” replied Jethro. “It was hard to do, especially with everyone looking.”

“How are you feeling?” asked Remus when he caught up.

“I don’t know. I’m going to the burial tomorrow but I feel like I shouldn’t even be here.”

“Course you should, you were his best friend,” Peter assured.

“I know, but no one here knows me and… I don’t know if I even knew Tobin well enough.” Once again Remus was reminded of how little everyone really knew about each other. How fast things changed and how easy it was to regret not saying something.

“Feels like you knew him better than his family did,” said Remus. “They got the music wrong.”

“I know. He hated classical music.” Jethro looked just past their shoulders and turning, Remus saw that his mum was beckoning him over to a couple she was talking to. More guests who wanted to speak to him.

“I’d better go,” said Jethro, seemingly not keen on interacting with the entire funeral party, but politeness overrode his awkwardness and he said his goodbyes.

“I’ll write,” he concluded. The three boys waved, expressed similar sentiments, and then rushed back to where Sirius was hiding.

“Are we going back yet?” Sirius asked immediately. It appeared his actions were finally starting to dawn on him, and he looked far more paranoid than he had before when he was still riding on the high of escaping his house and travelling all the way here on a train.

“Not yet,” replied James. “My parents are still talking to Remus’s mum.” Remus craned his neck to get a glimpse of where his mum was, and she was indeed having a very animated conversation with James’s parents.

“Looks like they’re getting along,” he smiled. James nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah! They might let you stay over if you asked.”

“Really?”

“Guys,” Sirius interrupted. “More important things going on right now.”

“We can’t leave yet, and I have to ask them anyway. I’m sorry, you’ll just have to wait.” Sirius sighed and plonked himself down onto the grass. The others followed.

“Did any of you see Tobin?” Sirius suddenly asked out of the blue. James and Peter shook their heads.

“I did,” said Remus. “I wish I hadn’t.”

“What did he look like?”

“Different. And not a good different.”

“I didn’t quite register the fact that he was gone. But now… well, I don’t have a choice do I?”

“Lily and I were talking about how we barely knew him.”

“His middle name’s Anthony,” said Peter, echoing Remus’s own observation.

“We don’t know each other’s middle names, do we?” asked James.

“Mine’s Aloysius,” said Peter. Remus scoffed.

“Aloysius?”

“My parents like fancy names,” Peter defended with a shrug.

“I’m Fleamont,” continued James. “After my dad.”

“I’m named after my dad too. Orion. Sirius Orion Black.”

“My middle name’s John.” James laughed.

“John? Is that it?” Sirius found it equally hilarious.

“Your name’s Remus Lupin, but the best your parents could come up with was John?”

“They really ran out of ideas, eh?”

“Shut up, it was my mam’s grandfather’s name.” He knew John was a boring name, which was why he hadn’t chosen it as his first name, but he still liked saying it regardless so he put up with the teasing.

“And my parents didn’t name me Remus.” They all stopped laughing at that, confused at what he meant. What did he mean? Well, it meant he had to tell his friends something. Because if today had taught him anything, it taught him that there was a war going on right now and there was little protection anymore against the precarious state between life and death. Remus regretted not asking Tobin more questions about himself, and he regretted not saying more to him in turn. Tobin wasn’t even his best friend. His best friends were sitting in front of him, and he didn’t want to one day be sitting at one of their funerals, quietly expressing to Lily that they hadn’t known that he was trans.

“What do you mean your parents didn’t name you Remus?”

Chapter Text

“What do you mean your parents didn’t name you Remus?”

“I named myself,” Remus replied. His voice was steady and he held their gaze. He was terrified, there was no denying it. He didn’t think there’d ever be a time when he wouldn’t be terrified of telling someone he was trans, but his outward appearance was as calm as he could keep it. Maybe if he acted like he didn’t care about this conversation then his friends wouldn’t care either.

“You did?” said James. “Why?”

“When?” Sirius asked.

“When I was five. I changed my name because my old name was a girl’s name.” The boys laughed lightly.

“Your parents gave you a girl's name? What was it?”

“I knew a guy called Valerie,” said Peter. “A friend of my dad’s.”

“Was your name Valerie?” They were still laughing, thinking he’d just been given a girl’s name for a joke or accidentally. An out of place name given to a baby boy.

“No it wasn’t. My parents gave me a girl’s name because I was a girl.” They all fell silent at once. Sirius smiled nervously as if he expected Remus to say he was just messing with them, like when Remus had first told them he was a werewolf.

“What do you mean you were a girl?” Asked James. “That’s impossible, you’re obviously a boy.”

“Well, thank you.” Remus breathed in and collected his thoughts before continuing. “I’m transgender.”

“Wait, you’re not joking?” Peter suddenly questioned.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you were joking when you said you were a girl, but you’re… not?”

“No. I was born a girl. But I didn’t feel like a girl. I knew I was a boy so I became one. It’s probably more complicated than that, but that’s the gist of it.”

“I didn’t know that was a thing,” said Sirius. “How did you become a boy?” Remus raised an eyebrow.

“Magic? I don’t know why people think it’s so impossible, it’s just transfiguration. It even has trans in the name,” he joked weakly.

“Yeah, it makes sense,” replied James. “I’ve just never heard of it before.” None of them were giving an indication of how they were feeling, and Remus was getting more nervous by the second. Had this been a mistake? What if they all hated him now and he’d be going home in a few minutes without any friends? Well, at least he’d still have Lily. But he didn’t want to lose James or Sirius or Peter.

“You’re okay with it, right? I know it’s a lot to take in, but I’m… I’m still me. I’m still Remus, and everything. You don’t have to think of me as a girl because I’m not one…” he was at risk of rambling the way he did when he was anxious, so he stopped himself from continuing and simply waited for a response.

“I’m okay with it,” James eventually decided. “You were born a girl but you became a boy. Simple.” Remus audibly sighed with relief, not caring if they noticed. So he had James and Lily on his side now. That was good. He turned to the other two.

Sirius nodded his head slowly.

“I agree with James.” Remus straightened up hopefully.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, nothing changed when you told us you were a werewolf and nothing changes now. If you were a boy before you’re still a boy now, right?” Remus nodded quickly.

“Yeah, exactly! It’s not a big deal, really.”

“Yeah it is,” Peter said suddenly. He was finally speaking, and the way he was looking at Remus suggested that he wasn’t as willing to accept the conversation as quickly as the other two.

“Huh?”

“It is a big deal. You’ve been lying to us for like, three years.”

“I haven’t been lying, I just… didn’t want to tell you until I was ready. You know, like with my lycanthropy. I couldn’t tell if it was safe yet.”

“You being a werewolf is different, I get why you didn’t tell us immediately. But this…”

“How is this different?” James asked.

“I don’t know, it just is. How can you be a boy if you were born a girl?”

“He just said, with magic—”

“No I mean… It’s weird, how can you think you’re a boy if you’re not?”

“Because I am.”

“No you’re not.” Peter stood up, angry almost. Every word he was saying was like a stab at Remus’s chest. Remus had grown too optimistic, after James and Sirius. Peter was now causing him to crash back to reality with a sickening thump, and he properly began to regret his decision to tell them all.

But, no. He had to tell them eventually. And James and Sirius were on his side, so what was Peter’s problem? James and Sirius stood up as well, facing Peter.

“What’s wrong with you, mate?” said James. “Remus is our friend, don’t be a dick.”

“Remus isn’t even his real name.”

“Yes it is,” said Remus, getting up from the ground and glaring at Peter. “It’s been my name longer than my birth name. I’ve been living as a boy longer than I lived as a girl. And even if I hadn’t, I’d still be just as much of a boy as you are.” Peter barely suppressed a grimace, and it hurt Remus more than anything else he’d done. The grimace signified disgust. Peter was disgusted by him.

“I just don’t get it,” Peter concluded.

“What don’t you get? I can answer any questions, I don’t mind… to an extent of course.”

“Why did you want to be a boy? Why didn’t you just stay a girl. You know girl’s can wear boy clothes and stuff if you wanted.”

“It’s more than just wearing boy clothes. Otherwise I wouldn’t have changed my name, or asked my parents to refer to me as a boy, or gone through all the trouble of making sure everyone saw me as a boy. You know I have to go through every single day of my life paranoid that I don’t pass as a boy? I have to take potions and spend even more time in the hospital wing and I can’t take my shirt off to go swimming because I have to bind my chest. I have to put in a ridiculous amount of effort every day just to be something that you were born as, so you have no right to tell me that I’m a girl.” Remus ended up quite close to Peter, staring him down as he unleashed a speech he didn’t know he had in him. He also hadn’t planned on saying that much, but he was desperate to get through to Peter. “You don’t understand, and I get it. Whatever. But even if you don’t understand, can you at least just respect that I am who I say I am? I’m a boy, my name’s Remus. That’s it. That’s all you need to know.” Peter was quiet for a bit. They all were. James and Sirius were holding back and letting the other two work it out themselves, ready to defend Remus if they needed to. But neither of them were happy about the fact that they may have just lost one of their best friends, so James couldn’t help but speak up.

“Come on, Pete. You’re making too much of a big deal about this. We stick together, remember? The four of us, no matter what.” Peter looked at all of them and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“I need time to think,” was all he said. “I’m going home.” He turned the corner and walked out of sight. Remus watched him go, angry but heartbroken at the same time. Sirius went to his side and patted him on the back.

“I’m really sorry,” he said. “I’m sure he’ll come round.” Remus shrugged Sirius’s hand off his shoulder.

“Whatever,” he murmured.

“If it’s any consolation, we still see you as a boy,” attempted James. “It’s weird thinking of you as a girl. You wouldn’t make a very good one.” He cracked a smile, trying to cher Remus up. Remus returned the smile, even if it was a little faint.

“Thanks. I appreciate it. Really.” And he certainly was grateful for James and Sirius’s reaction, but Peter had left an empty feeling in his chest that he couldn't ignore.

“What if he doesn’t come round?” Asked Remus, mostly inaudible but the two caught it anyway. They didn’t reply immediately because no one really had the answer. Would James and Sirius stick by him even if it meant losing a friend? But then, if they switched over to Peter’s side they’d lose Remus instead. Either way, a friend would be lost. The question was, who would they choose?

“Let’s just hope he does,” replied James.

“We’re on your side, Re.” Hope was calling him now, and James was being beckoned over by his parents. It was time to go home. Peter had already left.

“C’mon Sirius. Let’s ask my parents if you can come home with us.” Sirius nodded and said goodbye to Remus with a light punch on the shoulder.

“I’ll write to you, mate.”

“Me too,” replied Remus.

“Tell us if Peter writes,” said James. “And we’ll try and convince him to stop being an idiot.” He dragged Sirius away towards his parents and Remus walked over to his mum.

“Where’ve you been?” Hope asked.

“With friends.”

“I was just talking to the Potters. They’re very nice people, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” She reminded him of something. “Hey, do you think I could ever go round to their house one day?”

“Don’t they live in Scotland?”

“Yeah, but I can just take the floo network. It’ll be easy.”

“Then I don’t see why not. As long as they say yes.”

“Great!” At least he had one thing to look forward to, if only to give a slight distraction to the whole Peter situation. Regardless, Remus was quiet on the journey home, lost in thought and none of it was good. His mother didn’t question it of course, there was nothing odd about being quiet after a funeral, but it wasn’t the funeral that was playing on Remus’s mind. He hadn’t just lost his friend, he had lost his security. If Peter ended up telling everyone, school would become unbearable; if Peter’s reaction was anything to go by, Remus dreaded to think how the Slytherins would react. Remus wouldn’t last one day back if Yaxley or Carrow had anything to do with it.

Remus had the summer to sort things out, and at the same time, Peter had the summer to come to his senses. It wasn’t inconceivable that Peter would eventually come round, but the waiting game was torture. Remus received no letters from him, and any letters he received from James or Sirius gave a similar update: Peter wasn’t talking to any of them. Remus didn’t know whether to write to Peter or not, because he didn’t know what to put in his letters. Everything seemed to have a negative to it. He couldn’t get angry at Peter because he didn’t think that would solve anything, but he wasn’t going to be lenient and understanding and, dare it be said, nice to Peter, because why should he? It was Peter that had the problem, not Remus. He also wanted to try and explain further about what it meant to be trans to try and convince Peter that there really was nothing wrong with it, but he also didn’t see why he had to be a constant teacher towards people who couldn’t be bothered to do their own research. But then again, Remus may have been the only source of education anyway because there were no bloody books about any of this stuff at all.

So he was at a very long and tangled up crossroads, which resulted in him not writing to Peter at all. He’d have to leave it up to his friends, and he certainly couldn’t guarantee that they understood Remus any more than Peter did, but were just more polite about it.

A few days after the funeral, Remus was stretched out on his bed, staring at his posters and thinking of everything. He was going through those moments when you could feel your thoughts moving through your head, those overwhelming moments when your mind feels at breaking point and you don’t know how to make it shut up for even a second. Those moments usually ended up in Remus launching himself out of bed, because maybe a different position would solve the problem. He needed a walk, out in the countryside. There was plenty of it, after all, so he might as well make the most of it.

“I’m going out,” Remus called vaguely to his mum. She was lying on the sofa, watching TV, something she usually did nowadays. Ever since they’d returned home, Hope hadn’t been very active, and Remus had done most of the cooking and housework. He didn’t mind, of course. Since Lyall had left, Hope was forced to take on all the housework without the use of any magic to help either. So Remus was happy to give her a break when she needed it, even if he couldn’t use magic either. He was especially keen now because she didn’t seem like herself at all. She was always tired, taking naps that lasted hours and still going to bed far earlier than she needed to. Remus was up for another few hours doing homework and watching TV while his mum was already fast asleep. He couldn’t deny that he was worried, but Hope tried to assure him that she was fine, and that the summer always made her feel more tired than normal. Remus had lived with her his whole life, and knew for a fact that the summer did not have this dramatic of an effect on her, but he tried not to let on that he was anxious. She hated him worrying about her.

“Where are you going?” Hope asked from the sofa.

“Just for a walk. I won’t be long.” Remus shut the door behind him and breathed in the country air. In front of his house was a dirt path surrounded by fields and bushes and fences. The odd signpost here and there and the next house being a few miles away, the nearest village being even further. He’d walked to the village a few times on his own before, but it was nearly a half an hour walk, plus spending time in the village, and then another half an hour back. He’d be a good few hours, and he’d told his mum he wouldn’t be long. He didn’t like leaving her for very long anyway.

“I’m thirteen, I can go wherever I want,” he said to himself defiantly. The village was a good distraction, what with all the shops and the people and he had some spare change in his pocket for a drink or a muffin. It was certainly a better distraction than grass and a few sheep. This wasn’t a walk to think, the whole point was that he didn’t want to think. Perhaps he could buy his mum a cake and she’d forgive him for being home after dark.

Remus set off for the village, soon taking his jacket off as the summer sun beat down against his back, and tied it around his waist. There wasn’t much to do on the walk to the village, except dodge the occasional car and whistle his way through a Sinatra album. Remus was good at whistling, and he enjoyed it. He felt rather peaceful walking his way down a dusty road, hands in pockets and giving off the impression that he didn’t have a care in the world. Maybe if he acted carefree enough it would end up being true. But then he remembered that the best whistler in his group of friends was Peter, and all the thoughts he’d been blocking out with the sun came crashing back and he wished he could hurry up and get to the village.

As he drew nearer, more houses started coming into view. The place was pretty picturesque, and Remus knew there was a duck pond somewhere near here. It had a bridge that he and his mum had stood on when he was young and fed bread to the mallards. He didn’t really know the people who lived here. He’d said hello to a few nice ladies when he wandered through, had a guy in a coat tip his hat to him once, but he wouldn’t have been able to name any of them. He only knew the people in the village who owned the shops his mum went to, because there was more opportunity for conversation. There was Mrs Bethan who owned the bakery and had a daughter his age called Alice. Alice was moody and refused to talk to him for reasons that Remus had never understood, but he didn’t care. Mrs Bethan was nice and gave him extra pastries to take home sometimes.

There was also Jim from the grocery shop, who was always reading the paper and chewed cigars. Mrs Llewellyn who owned the sweet shop that Remus was obsessed with as a child, and still was naturally. He could grow up all he wanted, he didn’t think there’d ever be a time when he wouldn’t love sugar mice and pieces of fudge. Those were the main shops, the main people he knew. The small circle of neighbours who weren’t really neighbours. The muggles who didn’t know about magic, or his lycanthropy, or him being trans. Everything was so simple, and all they had to worry about was Alan the milkman bringing them semi instead of skimmed milk in the morning.

The village was packed, as was to be expected. A chocolate box Welsh town during the summer holidays, Remus was lucky to get a glimpse of the shops at all. Bunting had been put up all over the place, hanging from the light posts and tangled in the trees. Kids were getting under everyone’s feet and the pavement was crowded with café-goers spilling out from inside tea shops.

Remus ducked straight into the bakery.

“Hi, Mrs Bethan,” Remus greeted. Mrs Bethan’s last name was actually Hughes, but Remus had christened her Mrs Bethan when he was eight and it had stuck.

“Smae!” She replied, carrying a basket of fresh loaves on her hip. The smell was incredible, and Remus found himself salivating at the thought of one of those loaves. “How are you? I haven’t seen you for ages.”

“I’ve been at school.”

“Ah yes, that boarding school your mam told me about. How is it?”

“Fine.”

“Making friends?”

“Yeah.” And losing some. “Where’s Alice?” Alice had always worked in the shop with her mother, and this was the first time Remus had walked in and hadn’t spotted her counting money behind the counter, or stacking shelves with muffins.

“Out with a friend, it’s impossible to get her to work when the weather’s so nice.” Remus assumed it was impossible to get her to work at any time given how begrudging she seemed whenever she was here. “How’s your mum?”

“She’s fine. Bit tired.” Remus refrained from going into detail. Mrs Bethan was nice but she was also a terrible gossip. He guessed that within five minutes of being here he’d probably know what everyone in the whole of Gwynedd was up to, so the last thing he wanted was the whole of Gwynedd in turn knowing about his mum being ill (and Remus was starting to suspect that she actually was ill, because she was by no means at peak health at the moment. He just hoped it wasn’t serious).

“Did you hear about Davy Davies down the road?” Davy Davies was actually called John Davies, with Davy being a nickname that he’d picked up at school. He was in his seventies now, so it wasn’t about to change any time soon.

“No?”

“Got married, he did.”

“Married?” Remus sat down at a chair near the counter. Once Mrs Bethan was off, there was no stopping her, so Remus strapped himself down for the next twenty minutes or so, focusing all his attention on Mrs Bethan’s gossip if only to stop himself from focusing on other things. “Didn’t his wife just die, though?”

“Aye, exactly! Poor old Doris, may God rest her soul, not even cold in her grave and old Davy Davies is pulling up with another missus.”

“Who is the missus?”

“Oh some London bimbo, named Stacey.” She leant in close to him as if she was about to give him top secret information. If Remus knew anything about the village, he knew that whatever Mrs Bethan said would already be known by half the residents already, at Mrs Bethan’s own hands probably. “She’s much younger than him, I hear. At least twenty years.”

“She blonde?” grinned Remus.

“Of course she’s blonde! You think he’s going to drive around town a month after his wife’s funeral with any old biddy? She’s got the legs of Marilyn bloody Monroe, the man’s laughing his way through the streets.”

“She can’t be that pretty. Why would she even date him? He’s ancient.”

“Money, my dear lad, it's all about money. Racked up a good fortune over the years has old Davy.” Remus put some money on the counter and ordered a chocolate chip muffin. She handed one to him without interrupting her flow of conversation, and Remus listened intently. For twenty minutes he could finally forget about Peter, and pretend to himself that all he had to care about was Davy Davies’s blonde London bimbo.

Half an hour later, as more customers filtered into the bakery and Mrs Bethan was forced to stop talking about her neighbour’s sister Ffion Jones getting pregnant at seventeen, she handed a few Danishes to Remus wrapped up in a box. He had only asked for two to take home for him and his mam, but she added in another two free of charge.

“For tomorrow. And tell your mam I said hi.”

“I will! Tell Alice I said hi as well.” He didn’t really but it was only polite. “Thanks, Mrs Bethan.”

“Take care, love!” Remus left the shop, the bell tinkling overhead as he opened the door. He thought he should head back now, since his mum would probably already be getting worried. But he decided to pay a quick trip to the sweetshop first. He still had a pound left, which was enough to buy a fair amount of sweets. He could send some to Sirius and James and Lily. Jethro too, who could probably do with some cheering up at the moment.

Remus bought a bunch of penny sweets, simply because he could. He refrained from buying a hundred, only because he wanted a few sticks of licorice to chew on while he walked home. He was the only person he knew who actually liked licorice so these were strictly for himself. He bought some strawberry bonbons for Lily and some fudge for James and Sirius. The penny sweets, which were pink and yellow flying saucers, were for Jethro, although he kept a few for himself: he really had bought a lot.

It was getting rather late as Remus walked back home, although the summer sun was still quite high in the sky so it was still a nice walk overall. The heat was starting to leave the day so he wrapped his jacket around his shoulders and absentmindedly sucked on a licorice stick, observing the countryside around him. His thoughts had certainly calmed down by now. After the day he had, and with the idea of two whole months of this laid out in front of him, it was hard not to feel a little optimistic that things would work out for the best.

His tenseness started to return as he neared his house, however, with the thought of going back into his room and staring anxiously out of the window for any letters that might have come from Peter. He was also nervous in case his mum was going frantic over how long he’d been. He knew, logically, she’d probably have worked out by now that he had just gone to the village. He was old enough, and he’d been before. But Remus still managed to convince himself that she was calling the police at this very moment and he sped up a bit. He didn’t like being away from her for very long if they weren’t both exactly aware of where the other one was. It was really his own problem, some unresolved separation anxiety that had started from childhood and was being projected on his mum instead as he got older. Psychological stuff that Remus didn’t care about. For the sake of his own dignity, and the fragility of his ego, he would never admit to himself that he had any sort of trouble with separation. The fact that there had been times when he’d gone out for walks or into town with his mum and started panicking the second he lost sight of her did nothing to sway his determination that he was fine on his own.

Remus opened the door with bated breath and waited for an onslaught of questions of where he’d been. But there was nothing. The house was quiet.

“Mam?” He hung his jacket up on the coat hangers by the door and made his way into the living room. His mum was still lying on the sofa, eyes closed and breathing deeply. She was fast asleep, and had barely even noticed that he’d gone.

Remus shook her gently awake. She looked slightly confused when she opened her eyes.

“What time is it?” She asked.

“Nearly five. I’ll cook us some tea, yeah?” She nodded, not even protesting. She was too tired to protest. How long had she been asleep? Clearly not long enough.

“I went down to the village,” continued Remus, walking into the kitchen. His voice carried through into the open living room. “Mrs Bethan gave us some Danishes. We can have them for breakfast tomorrow. Or maybe I’ll take one to give to dad.” He peered over at the sofa after he didn’t get a reply.

His mum had fallen back to sleep.

Chapter Text

Hope was definitely ill. Other than the almost permanent fatigue, she was nauseous a lot, short of breath, and slightly out of it overall. She complained of her back hurting as well. Remus was no longer able to hide that he was worried, and urged her to see a doctor at least.

“Just for a check up,” he said at breakfast when Hope was still in her dressing gown and barely up to making a cup of tea.

“Honestly, cariad, I’m fine. It’s just a bit of flu.”

“It’s summer.”

“Flu isn’t just a winter illness, you can get it at any time.”

“But you’ve been like this for ages, you should be getting better by now. You’re getting worse.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” Remus took a sceptical bite of toast, keeping an eye on her as he did so. He didn’t think this was just flu, but his mum was stubborn. Everyone in his family were. It was a miracle any of them got along with each other.

James wanted to know if Remus wanted to visit his house at some point during the summer. Remus absolutely did, but there was no way he was leaving his mum on her own in the state she was currently in. He wrote back, declining the offer, disappointed that he wouldn’t get to see what James’s house looked like. Hopefully his mum would get better by the end of summer and he’d still have a chance: there was still a month left, surely she’d be alright by then.

His mum, however, had other ideas.

“You should get out of the house for a bit, love,” she suggested a few days later. “Visit your dad.”

“Charming.”

“No, I mean it, it’s all a bit claustrophobic here and we both need a break. Especially you, you’ve been on your feet ever since you arrived. You need a proper holiday.”

“I don’t mind being here, and I already visited dad last weekend.” He had nothing against seeing his dad again so soon, but he still wasn’t comfortable leaving his mum on her own. She had started to improve over the last day or two, a relieving development, but Remus didn’t want to risk anything by leaving her alone. Not yet anyway. The two only had each other, and if something happened to her while he was gone, who knows what would happen? No one would be able to help her.

“There’s no limit to seeing your dad, I’m sure he’ll love to let you stay for a bit longer. Or you could visit your friend James, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, definitely. But…”

“Sweetheart, I’m fine. Go and see your friends.” It was tempting. He really did want to see James, and he was sure James would be just as excited, but he was still wary.

“Can’t you ask gran and grandpa to stay with you for a bit? Or at least, have them check in sometimes?” Hope sighed.

“Are you really that worried?” Remus nodded. Hope sat back in her chair, thinking for a moment.

“Alright. If I ask gran and grandpa to check in occasionally, will that make you feel better?”

“Yeah!” He nodded enthusiastically at the idea that he could now visit James without worrying too much about her. She agreed to the conditions, and he quickly finished his breakfast so he could run upstairs to tell James the news.

Remus went to his dad’s first, mostly because he didn’t want to floo himself into a house he’d never been to before so he needed his dad to take him up to Scotland instead. His dad didn’t live in the Leaky Cauldron anymore, although the move had been fairly recent. It had been quite a big turning point in everyone’s lives, because Lyall had been adamant that he wouldn’t start looking for anywhere permanent until things were settled and it became clear that he and Hope weren’t getting back together. Remus had tried to ignore anything he felt about the move, the permanence of the situation, and he had soon convinced himself that it didn’t matter really because everything had already felt permanent. Remus was used to life with just his mother now and visiting Lyall on the weekends. So the move was barely a dent in the family’s new normalcy.

Remus had been roped into helping his father find a new place to live, but he wasn’t very engaged. Looking at houses was boring at the best of times, and looking at tiny flats that only the salary of a small ministerial role could afford in the seedy wizarding towns of London was mind-numbing.

Nothing was right for Lyall. The flats were too small, too damp, too noisy, too dark. All of his complaints were completely pointless: he was a wizard, and therefore could easily solve any problems that a flat had with the flick of his wand. The only complaint that made sense was from one flat that was infested with vicious Ashwinders, and they wouldn’t have been hard to remove anyway, at least not for a professional. Remus suspected his father was just bitter over the fact that he was unable to afford anything more than these small, damp, noisy flats, especially after a life of what could be considered luxury in their large house in Wales.

“Come back to Wales then,” suggested Remus. “Or go anywhere that’s cheaper. Why are you sticking around in London if it’s so expensive?”

“London’s convenient. It’s near the ministry and King’s Cross.”

“Yeah but they’re not hard to get to wherever you are, as long as you have the floo network. Or you apparate.”

“I just prefer London, alright?” It certainly didn’t sound like it, and it took him over a month to finally settle on a flat that lived up to his standards. It was a place in Central London, Earl’s Court to be exact, since it was the only area in Central London that wasn’t horrifically expensive. When Remus looked around with his dad, he could see why. It was run down, dirty and every building appeared to have seen far better days, possibly before World War Two. Most brick walls were covered in graffiti, windows were boarded up with wooden planks and the pavements were being treated as a dumping ground for rubbish bins and building material.

And yet, there was something about the place that had a certain charm, a charm that only attracted people like Remus and his dad. It felt small, but not in a claustrophobic way, more in a way that suggested everyone there knew everyone else; everyone had a purpose, and they knew where they were going and where they were coming from. It felt like a community, but one that didn’t necessarily interact with each other, which was perfect for Lyall.

Remus on the other hand had a habit of idealising places that didn’t seem very ideal to anyone else who came across it. Remus loved graffiti, because it made him think of the people who had done it. Gangs of rebel boys running through the streets with paint cans, a romanticised, West Side Story-type version of what the reality probably was: a guy or two vandalising property out of sheer boredom.

The flat itself was in a wizarding neighbourhood that looked no different from the muggle neighbourhoods around it. It was entered through a small pub, like Diagon Alley, but a pub that was even darker and smaller than its more upmarket equal. It was called “The Broken-Winged Phoenix” or “The Phoenix” for short. Remus liked the name, more than he liked the actual pub.

When he and Lyall entered the neighbourhood, Remus looked around for any similarity to Diagon Alley, but at first it seemed to resemble more of Knockturn Alley than anything else. Remus had been there once with his dad, who’d needed to buy something for work that couldn’t be found in Diagon Alley. Remus hadn't liked it much; it was creepy and unsettling. But this neighbourhood, which was called Avern Place, didn’t have that unsettling nature to it. It matched the outside surroundings and had the more intriguing-type shops of Knockturn Alley, but there was a lightness to it as well. The cobbled streets were brown, not grey, and the buildings were wonky in a quirky way. Remus liked it immediately.

Lyall had turned the flat into his own bachelor’s haven, which included musty bookshelves and a cabinet of upmarket alcohol that Remus knew he never drank, he just liked the look of the bottles. His dad only drank Firewhiskey on a Friday evening and that came in individual bottles that weren’t pretty enough to display. Most of the flat could be considered just for show, a lifestyle to show off to the rich men of the Ministry who looked down on Lyall for not being able to afford grand mansions and bottles of gin at hundreds of galleons a bottle. Bastards, in Remus’s opinion. But Lyall was obsessed with acting like one of them. Lyall’s whole family was working-class and had more of a cockney accent, about as working-class as you could get, and they were perfectly proud of it. Except, of course, Lyall. Remus didn’t know why; he liked how his father’s side of the family talked, because he enjoyed the slang and the creative swearwords. It came out in his father sometimes, when he was angry, but at some point during his Hogwarts years, Lyall had decided that he didn’t get enough respect with his accent and changed it. Talked as posh as the future ministers for magic talked, reinserted his t’s, dropped his slang, became accent-less. The respected regional pronunciation of every person in the ministry who stripped Remus’s rights away by the day. Remus preferred the room above the Leaky Cauldron, because at least it matched who they were. It was why Remus liked the surroundings of Earl’s Court. It was an outcast in the circle of neighbourhoods around it where the wealthy resided. The boy in brown jumpers and unwashed hair in the circle of perfectly preened men in suits. Remus felt at home everywhere in Earl’s Court except for the flat that he was supposed to live in on the weekends.

Remus lasted a day in the flat before he decided that he was too bored to function anymore and needed to go somewhere else. Somewhere away from the lamp-lit living room where his father spent his time writing long reports on his piles of parchment and barely acknowledging him.

“Can I go to James’s house? Mam said I could.”

“Potter?”

“Yeah.”

“Where does he live?”

“Scotland. I need you to take me there.” Lyall put his book down with an eyebrow raise. 

“You’ll have to be more specific then.”

“John O’Groats, Caithness.” James had given him the address in his last letter. Lyall continued reading his book for a few moments as if he hadn’t heard Remus speaking, until he took off his reading glasses and faced his son.

“Alright. It’s a bit boring here for you, isn’t it?” Remus nodded. “Did you ask James if you could visit?” Remus nodded again.

“He said I could stay for the rest of the summer, although I think I’ll just stay for a week or two.” He didn’t want to leave his mum for too long.

“Fine. I’ll take you there tomorrow. We’ll have to apparate.”

“It’s far, is that safe?”

“I’ve apparated further, don’t worry about it. Besides, I don’t know any fireplaces in John O’ bloody Groats to floo into, so apparition is our only option.” Remus agreed, and decided to go out exploring for a bit before the evening, for something to do before he went to James’s house. He could write to James a bit later, and to his mum to tell her that he’d be up in Scotland for  some time.

Avern Place had different shops to the ones in Diagon Alley, except for the necessary robe shops and bookshops. Diagon Alley was more productive, in that every shop had a purpose for nearly every witch or wizard: wands, potion ingredients, animals. But Avern Place seemed far more specialist. These were shops that only people like his dad needed, catering the ministry officials in specific departments. Bookshops filled with books from the restricted section of the Hogwarts library, shops that sold antidotes to poisonous plants, or deterences for poltergeists and nifflers.

Remus figured he could explore the shops any time he came to visit his father so he didn’t pay much attention at this point. He was more interested in exploring the outside, both because the place had intrigued him anyway, but mostly because of his healthy teenage rebellion where he wanted to venture as far away from his father’s flat as he could get away with.

Apart from the large main road, which was connected from all different directions and looked pretty scary to cross, most of the roads were residential. They were all squares of flats, with a gated garden square in the middle. The gardens were private, surrounded by both a fence and a hedge, so Remus couldn’t see into them unless he climbed up and peered over the top. The flats were thin and all bunched together. A lot of them looked fairly run down and broken, and a lot of the buildings were motels rather than houses. Remus observed all the front steps and examined the basement flats which were situated quite far underneath the pavement level and were all accessed by rickety, metal stairs. They didn’t look particularly appealing.

One of the garden squares caught his eye as he noticed a wooden tree house poking above the tall bushes. He went to the front gate– the only part that wasn’t covered with shrubbery– and took a proper look inside. It was mostly a lawned area, but there were a few nice trees lining the pathway that went right through to the other side. On the left there was a small playground, with everything made out of wood except for the metal chains of the swings. There was no one in the square as far as Remus could see, except for a few dog walkers who were nowhere near him. He looked around behind him to see if there was anyone in the street that could see him, and another brief look at the flat windows in case anyone was staring down at where he was. There was no one, and he was bored.

The fence wasn’t hard to climb. There were plenty of footholds provided by the intricate detailing in the metal, and Remus was tall enough to swing his leg round to the other side. It was a bit of a scuffle, with his shirt getting caught on one of the spikes at the top, but he unhooked the material and jumped down on the other side. After another check to make sure he wasn’t about to get arrested, Remus wandered over to the swings and sat down on one of them, swinging himself lightly as he gazed around at the rest of the garden. It was nice in here, with a cool breeze on his face and the birds singing in the treetops. The noise from the main road was faint enough for him to almost forget that he was still in the middle of London. It was a shame Avern Place didn’t have a garden in it.

Remus didn’t bother with the other playground stuff, because he was far too old for a climbing frame and a sand pit. The tree house was tempting, but he decided to take a walk instead, following the path through the entire garden. There wasn’t much to see, but he said hello to a few passing people with their dogs, and got distracted by a very tall tree that with knobbly branches. It looked too good to climb on that Remus couldn’t resist. He was still young enough to get away with climbing trees in his opinion, and he was good at it. He ended up pretty high up and could use one of the branches as a good lookout perch. It was better than the tree house and he was even more hidden within the leaves. He tested the strength of the branch and deemed it safe enough to stand up on, his arm wrapped around the tree trunk for support. As he stood many feet above the garden he felt like a pirate, and almost wished he had a telescope to look through. He wasn’t really afraid of heights; he’d flown on broomsticks enough times for them not to bother him, but they’d never bothered him much beforehand anyway. He didn’t mind standing upright on a fairly unsturdy platform while he observed the entire square. Eventually though, he decided to get down, if only because he didn’t want to be spotted. He already looked a bit odd to anyone who may have seen him, a young teenager on his own climbing fences and trees and swinging on swings.

Getting down was always harder than climbing up, and he grazed his arm as he slid his way down the trunk. He frowned at the slight injury, rubbed his arm against his trousers to wipe away the droplets of blood and continued on his way.

It was still fairly light out when he returned to the main road, but he knew it was late. It was the height of summer and didn’t get dark until almost nine, so he was probably late for dinner. He had forgotten his watch on his bedside table but his internal clock was pretty accurate. In this case, he was hungry. So it must have been at least five o’clock. He wanted to get dinner out of the way so he could write to James and his mum.

Lyall had not noticed that Remus had disappeared for a good two hours or so, but he had dinner on the table and he didn’t tell Remus off, so naturally Remus had no complaints. He ate quickly, excused himself, and went to the spare bedroom where he slept on the weekends, borrowing some parchment and a quill from his father. He wrote to James first; it was already past six, so he needed to get a move on sending the letter or else James would have very little notice of his arrival. The letter only needed to be a paragraph long, telling James he’d be arriving tomorrow if that was alright, and if there were any good places to apparate to.

His letter to his mum was a bit longer, talking about his brief exploration of Earl’s Court (while failing to mention that his father hadn’t been supervising him at all) and letting her know that he’d be going to James’s tomorrow if he had permission.

Once he’d written and sent both letters, it was late enough for him to go to sleep, which was difficult to do under the circumstances. He was excited to visit James, and he wondered what the two would get up to, and what James’s house looked like and what his parents were like. It was another thing to take his mind off Peter, and perhaps he could find a way to sort out the whole Pete situation with James’s help. He might even be able to talk to Sirius more as well, since James was allowed to speak to him without Sirius needing to sneak past his parents just to send a letter. He could barely send anything to Remus, with only one letter every few weeks or so that didn’t say much about anything. He certainly didn’t talk about anything that went on at home. But perhaps James received more letters, or was even able to talk to him using the floo network. The three of them could all get together and at least have a nice time, regardless of whether Peter was a main subject or not. 

James was quick to reply, and Remus received his letter at breakfast, with Arianrhod knocking into the butter as she landed on the kitchen table.

“Bloody bird,” Lyall muttered. “Why is she so bad at landing?”

“She’s not! She’s just enthusiastic.” Remus took the letter from Arianrhod’s talons and opened it. “Brilliant!”

“That from James?” Remus nodded.

“He said I could come today, and that we can apparate to the front garden. It’s big enough and it’s protected by charms so no one’ll spot us.” He handed the letter to his father, since James had written down the exact address so they could apparate easily.

“Bloody hell,” Lyall said, reading it.

“What?”

“That’s Potter Manor? I’ve been past it once, and it’s massive. I knew they were rich, but Merlin.” He handed the letter back to Remus.

“I don’t think they bought it. James said it was built years ago by some relative.”

“Well, regardless, you better be on your best behaviour. I don’t want you getting sent home for breaking some expensive vase or something.”

“I won’t.” Merlin forbid Remus did anything that reflected badly on his father. He finished his cereal in silence.

Remus didn’t really know what to wear, or pack. He’d only taken a few clothes to his dad’s, but he could always send Arianrhod for more. He had his binder, and he had his sanitary pads just in case. His period hadn’t happened for a good few months ever since he upped the dosage of the morfosis potion, but occasionally it would turn up for maybe a day or two, light, but still present. And annoying. He certainly didn’t want to risk it happening when he was at James’s house with no protection. Other than that, he didn’t think he had to worry about anything else. He was nowhere near a full moon yet– not that he’d ever agree to stay over at someone’s house if he was– and James knew all of his secrets anyway, so really he just had to worry about whether his clothes were too shabby to be seen in a posh mansion. Most of his jeans had holes in them, he had a jacket with the elbow completely frayed and the soles of his shoes were starting to come apart. Hope hadn’t had the chance to fix anything up nor go out shopping, and she didn’t have the magical option. Lyall did however, and he was perfectly willing to spend his time fixing Remus’s clothes in order to make a good impression on the Potters. Remus knew James wouldn’t care at all. Remus could probably turn up in nothing but a bin bag and James wouldn’t even notice, but Remus had never met his parents before, so for all he knew they were the complete opposite to James and would instantly notice a hole in the elbow of a jacket.

“Right, clothes are all ready,” said Lyall. It was half an hour later and Remus was packed, but Lyall didn’t trust him to have remembered everything. Remus was a very ordered packer, in that he enjoyed folding all his clothes neatly and filling the rest of the space with books. He just liked how it looked, but it by no means made him a good packer. He always forgot half of the things he needed, even when he wrote it all down the night before. So Lyall had to check for him.

“Got your toothbrush?”

“Yes.”

“Warm clothes?”

“It’s summer.”

“It’s Scotland. It’ll get chilly.”

“I don’t need them.”

“If you say so, but don’t come crying to me when you catch your death.” Remus rolled his eyes. His dad was obsessed with wearing warm clothes even if it was twenty degrees outside.

“I’ve got everything, dad. Can we go now?”

“Have you got pyjamas?” Remus blinked. So he’d forgotten something after all. Lyall sighed. “Go and get them.” Remus ran to the spare room and dug under his bed for the pyjamas he’d thrown under there this morning.

“Got them!”

“Right. We can go then.” Remus opened his trunk back up and shoved them in, not caring about the neatness anymore. He only cared when he wanted to, so you could never tell what Remus’s belongings were going to look like. They could be as ordered as an army of soldiers or strewn in the oddest places with nothing in between.

“Let’s go.” Remus held onto his dad’s arm. He didn’t like apparating much, no one did. It was like being crushed, and he knew his dad would have to apparate multiple times; regardless of what he said it was risky apparating all the way to Scotland from London, so they’d have to make stops on the way there, as if they were hopping. Remus braced himself, and a second later his dad turned on his heel with a loud ‘CRACK!’ and the two disappeared into thin air.

Chapter Text

It took around an hour to apparate to James’s house, because Remus and Lyall stopped off in a nearby town around halfway there to pick up a snack and get their bearings back. Lyall was good at apparating, sure, but it still took a toll on anyone, and Remus was by no means used to it yet.

When they finally arrived, Remus was sure they must have come to the wrong place, that Lyall had miscalculated the landing or something. They were stood in front of what could only be described as an estate. It was huge! It wasn’t as big as Hogwarts, but it was certainly up there. It looked as if it could be used as a school, and Remus couldn’t believe it was someone’s house, let alone his friend’s house.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?”

“Yep,” replied Lyall. “Potter Manor. I told you it was big.”

“Big? It’s a mansion!” The front garden itself looked to be almost a mile long. It took them a good few minutes to walk up to the front door. As they got there, Lyall started fussing around Remus, smoothing down his shirt and flattening his hair.

“How do you manage to crease everything you wear?” He said irritably.

“We’ve been apparating all day, what do you expect?” Remus batted his father’s hand away and rang the doorbell before Lyall could protest.

“Remember what I said,” Lyall muttered quickly before the door opened. “Best behaviour, and don’t break anything.”

“I’ll be alright.” James was the one they had to worry about breaking things. The door opened as he finished his sentence and James himself stood there, bouncing on his feet excitedly.

“Remus!”

“Hi!”

“Come in, come in!” He took Remus by the arm and practically dragged him inside, although he was quickly stopped by his parents, who had appeared suddenly behind him.

“Not so fast, James,” his mum said. “We haven’t even met your friend yet.”

“Oh right, this is Remus and this is his dad,” he said impatiently. “Remus, this is my mum and dad.” His mum shook Lyall’s hand, and then Remus’s. James’s dad followed suit, and for a few minutes there was a whirl of greetings as everyone introduced themselves.

“I’m Fleamont,” said Mr Potter, giving Remus a friendly but firm handshake.

“I’m Remus. Nice to meet you, sir.” Mr Potter smiled at him, a warm smile that matched his son’s. Mrs Potter introduced herself as Euphemia and the adults were soon engaged in conversation, but one which inexplicably required the children to remain. James was having none of that.

“Can we go now?” Asked James. “I want to show Remus my room.”

“Would you like to come in for tea, Mr Lupin?” James’s mother was asking Lyall, ignoring her son’s pleas to leave.

“Oh… I’m not sure if–”

“You must! I don’t think we’ve properly spoken before, have we?”

“We met your wife at the funeral last month,” continued Mr Potter. “Hope, isn’t it? She was lovely.”

“Oh she’s not–.” but Lyall stopped himself and tugged at his collar. Lyall was still reluctant to let people know the state of his marriage, and Remus knew he was already uncomfortable at the thought of imposing anyway, but he also knew that his father would definitely agree to staying for a while. He wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to get to know such a prestigious wizarding family.

“I’d love to join you for tea,” he eventually replied, with more confidence than he’d shown before.

“Excellent! The kitchen’s just this way, and yes James you can leave now.” James had been lightly pulling at his mother’s robes to get her attention.

“Brilliant!” He was just about to run off with Remus behind him before stopping suddenly and turning back to him. “You have to take your shoes off,” he informed.

“Oh. Sorry.” Remus took off his shoes and put them by the doorway as neatly as possible.

“That’s alright,” said Mrs Potter. “James, you could’ve been more polite.”

“Should I take my shoes off as well?” Asked Lyall. He was a man who always kept his shoes firmly on in the house unless he was going to bed, but he didn’t want to be rude so he was already pulling them off before Mrs Potter had a chance to reply.

“If that’s okay? We usually keep them off in the home.”

“Yeah no, that’s fine!” James didn’t let Remus stick around for any longer and left the adults to go into the kitchen for tea.

“Quick tour before we go upstairs,” said James, leading him into a huge room off the entrance hall. “This is the living room.” The room was much different to Remus’s, because it had very little muggle stuff in it. There was the usual sofa and chairs and a very nice rug, but the walls were covered in moving portraits and the ceiling had the same charm as the Great Hall at Hogwarts, where the wall was non-existent and instead showed the sky outside.

“Woah, you have the Hogwarts ceiling!”

“Sort of. We only really have it at night because the stars are so pretty, but sometimes we charm it in the day if the weather’s nice.” Remus wanted to explore a bit more, but James was a very efficient tour guide.

“We can go to the kitchen later. Don’t want to get caught up in the boring adult conversations.” He took Remus up the grand staircase which was right next to the living room.

“There are other rooms over there and the bathroom’s at the end.” James pointed down the first floor corridor at the closed doors of other rooms. Remus caught sight of more pictures lining the walls.

“Your tour is full of such vivid detail,” Remus remarked sarcastically.

“All these rooms are boring, my room’s the best.” Remus got sidetracked by a moving portrait of a man who looked like Mr Potter.

“Is that your dad?” James walked beside him and looked.

“No, that's my grandfather. Henry Potter.” The man waved in a friendly manner at the two boys.

“He looks nice.”

“He was. I knew him a bit before he died. He was fun.” James continued on to his room. “I can tell you more about him if you want.”

“Okay.” Remus was interested in James’s family, because the Potters were rather infamous in that they were one of the last pureblood families in the UK but weren’t part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Remus didn’t know why.

“Alright, but first…” They arrived at a door that looked like every other, but when James opened it, it was obvious who the room belonged to. “I tidied it before you arrived but it’s still a bit messy.”

“It’s great!” A bit messy was an understatement, but it was more ordered chaos than anything, which tended to be James’s method of tidying. Quite a few posters were sliding off the wall, looking as if they’d hastily been put back up after already having fallen onto the floor. James’s desk was covered in more trinkets than actual school things. There was a snitch hovering around it, Quidditch game souvenirs littered the top, as well as items that Remus couldn’t identify but knew that James had simply been fiddling with. James wasn’t able to focus unless he was doing something with his hands or chewing on something. Most of his stuff was broken because either he’d been fiddling with it too much or he’d impulsively broken it for no reason. He’d snapped a ruler once after he bent it too far and he’d chewed through an eraser after biting it too hard. When Remus asked why he had bitten it, James’s reply was “it was new and it looked edible.” He knew it wasn’t edible, but that hadn’t stopped him. James’s entire room seemed to encapsulate his scattered nature. His bedside table resembled his desk and nothing seemed to have its own place. But Remus instantly liked it. It was James, and it was by no means boring.

“This is my bed, this is my desk, these are Quidditch posters and over there is a window.”

“You don’t have to be a tour guide anymore.” James opened a drawer in his bedside table and brought out a packet of fizzing whizbees.

“Want one?”

“No, thanks.” Remus didn’t like fizzing whizbees. He didn’t like anything sour. James jumped on his bed and Remus joined him. They’d slept in the same dorm room as each other for three years now, so there wasn’t any awkwardness. James found a chocolate frog at the back of his drawer and handed it to Remus to chew on while they chatted.

“Okay so... Henry Potter.”

“Yeah?”

“Came over from New Delhi in like… the late 1800s? I forget when exactly but he served on the wizengamot and he’s the reason that we’re not part of the Sacred Twenty Eight anymore.” Remus raised his eyebrows.

“Really? How come?”

“Because he liked muggles.”

“Is that it?”

“Yeah! You know what those bloody twenty eights are like. All my grandfather did was say that he didn’t hate muggles and they got suspicious of his pureblood status. Kicked him out basically.”

“Good riddance.”

“Exactly. I’m quite proud of him, you know.”

“How did he die?” Remus asked, before stopping himself. “Sorry, that’s a bit personal.”

“It’s alright, he got caught up in a duel.”

“Merlin…”

“Yeah. He was a nice guy but he also had a bit of a temper and got into a lot of arguments. And this was like... the 1950s by then so no one was really regulating anything and everyone was duelling left right and centre.”

“He sounds a bit like you if I’m honest.”

“Yeah he was,” James grinned. “Mum said we were both as bad as each other, but he always let me get away with stuff.”

“And his name was Henry?” Remus was crap with names.

“Yeah, although everyone called him Harry. Harry Potter.”

“Why?” James shrugged.

“Apparently Harry is short for Henry, although Merlin knows why. They have the same number of letters.”

“I thought Hank was short for Henry.”

“Probably! Names are stupid. Anyway…” he got up from his bed and stretched. “What do you wanna do first?”

“We can go outside,” suggested Remus. “Looks like a good place to explore.” James’s face lit up at that.

“Oh I know exactly where to take you!” He led Remus back downstairs, the two rushing down a few steps at a time. They were stopped in the hallway by Lyall reemerging from the kitchen as the adults were saying goodbye to each other.

“Remus!” Lyall came over to him. “I’m off then, mate.”

“Alright.”

“Be good, and if you need anything, you can write to me or your mother.”

“I will.” Lyall patted him on the shoulder, waved goodbye to James and was seen out by Euphemia and Fleamont.

“Where are you boys going?” Fleamont asked when Lyall had left and James and Remus were heading for the front door.

“Garden,” James replied.

“Alright but put a coat on. And if you go to the forest don’t stay past dark. Dinner will be in a few hours.”

“I know.” James and Remus put their shoes on, put on their jackets and went outside.

“It’s not even cold,” remarked James. He immediately took his jacket off and tied it around his waist.

“My dad’s the same. Can’t go out without a coat or else you’ll die.” James laughed.

“Yeah my mum’s convinced I’ll get hypothermia. She’d freak out if she knew that Sirius swims in the lake at school in winter.”

“He’s a weirdo,” said Remus as affectionately as he could. “Have you spoken to him lately?”

“A little bit. Not as much as usual. I’m worried his parents might have caught him writing or something.”

“I hope not.”

“Yeah, but if something’s really wrong he’d probably just escape again like he did for the funeral.” Remus was quiet for a bit.

“Can’t believe the funeral was a month ago now.”

“Yeah. Feels weird.”

“Have you…spoken to Peter at all?” James looked down and didn’t reply right away.

“No. I haven’t. He hasn’t written.”

“He hasn’t written to me either.”

“I can’t believe he’s just going to stop being our friend, and for what? Just cos you were born a girl? So what?”

“Yeah exactly, although… you don’t have to remind me.”

“Sorry.”

“We could try to floo him.”

“Peter?”

“Yeah. He can’t just ignore us if we're right in front of him, and if it’s two of us then he might be more likely to talk.”

“I wish Sirius could help too.”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, we could. As long as his parents let us speak to him. Do you want to though?”

“I’d rather try now than wait until the holidays are over. Try and talk to him before school starts.”

“Okay, we can do it after dinner.” Remus hadn’t really been focusing on where they were walking throughout the conversation, but he looked behind him and saw that they were a fair distance from the house by now. They had crossed most of the open grounds and James was now leading him away from the gardens and towards the more unkempt side of the grounds where the forest was situated. It wasn’t the Forbidden Forest, or at least Remus was sure that the Forest couldn’t have been that big… he hoped anyway, and it looked less spooky than the Hogwarts one anyway. It was more open, and brighter. No matter what time you entered the Forbidden Forest it always seemed to be night time, but this forest was shining with the late afternoon sun.

“Why are we going in the forest?” Asked Remus.

“It’s a secret.”

“We’re not going to get attacked by anything are we?”

“No, this forest is safe. It’s just a normal forest, not like the one at school. Although, you might come across a few pixies or bowtruckles, but they’re harmless. Mostly.” The forest was still full of the sounds of birds tweeting so any hesitancy that Remus may have felt before entering soon disappeared. Besides, James seemed to know what he was doing and where he was going, so Remus walked behind him and took in the surroundings, kicking up the occasional pile of leaves that had managed to escape disintegration into the summer ground.

“Just over here,” James called out. He was pretty far ahead now, and Remus had to run to catch up.

“What’s over here?” But he didn’t have to wait long to find out. He turned a corner and saw James standing proudly in front of an impressive but rather crudely built den.

“A den?”

“Yup!” The two went over to it, and while James ducked inside the entrance, Remus took a look round the outside structure. There wasn’t just one structure. The main den was teepee shaped and was made of old branches, with leaves for covering. It was between two trees and the branches of the trees had also been converted into what could be considered outbuildings, branches resting against the main branch to form another tent shape. James had joined them onto the main den and all in all the whole place was surprisingly spacious.

“You built all this?”

“Yeah! All by myself, no magic involved.”

“It must have taken you ages.”

“It did. I’ve been working on it since I was a kid. I might be getting a bit old for it now, though.”

“No you’re not, it’s brilliant!”

“You think? I was just bored. Not much to do when you’re an only child living in the Scottish countryside.”

“I get that.” Wales was no less sparse and no less boring as an only child.

“So what do you do here?” Remus asked.

“Well, build it mostly. Or I pretend I’m hiding out like a spy, but I’m not very good at keeping still for long. I once saw a deer though, and I stayed completely quiet and it came right up to there.” He pointed through a tiny gap in the den which Remus couldn’t see but he assumed that James meant the deer had been very close.

“It’s comfy in here.” There were pillows and blankets on the ground which didn’t seem like they had been weathered or ruined in any way. The den was almost homely.

“Yeah, when I said I didn’t use magic, I meant to build it. But I asked my dad to protect all the pillows with charms. I’ve also got a light for when it gets dark.” He crawled into the house next to the den and reemerged with a jar of fire. They were both used to those from their days of lighting up the secret room where they made the map. James put the jar in the middle of the floor.

“I haven’t had much of a chance to use it, because I’m not allowed here after dark. I asked if I could sleep here once.”

“And?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Maybe we could sleep out here. Your parents can’t say no to both of us, can they?”

“Yeah they can, but you’re right! We might be able to convince them.”

“Cool!” It would be interesting to spend a night in a forest without being in wolf form.

“You’re a bad influence, Lupin.”

“I know.”

They remained outside for around an hour and went exploring deeper into the forest. They found sticks that were irresistible to use as pretend swords. Pretend wands were boring, because they already had wands and without magic they were just useless twigs. Swords were always fun, and Remus quickly explained what pirates were to James so they could have a proper sword fight, with acting. James got into it a bit too much, speaking like a pirate as best he could and using the den as a ship.

“Enemies ahead!” Yelled Remus from high up in one of the trees. He was using it as a lookout post for non-existent enemies, but he had spotted a fox and climbed down so they could chase after it.

“Away with ye, landlubber!” Shouted James as the two ran at the poor creature, swords raised. They chased it quite far into the forest, and the two were running very fast. Too fast. By the time they finally stopped Remus was struggling to catch his breath.

“You alright?” James asked, dropping the pirate voice and looking at his friend in concern. Remus was okay, but he was bent over while his breathing tried to calm down.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just give me a sec.” He kept forgetting that he had to take it easy when he was wearing his binder. He had grown used to his chest being kept flat by magic, but during the summer— especially at James’s house— he had no choice. He didn’t mind the binder, but it was annoying when it stopped him from being as active as usual.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Remus stood up to his full height.

“Yeah, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” It was starting to get dark now, and Remus couldn’t see the den from where they were standing.

“We should probably head back.”

“Yeah, alright. I’m starving anyway.” Luckily, James clearly knew the forest like the back of his hand and they soon found themselves back out in the open, with the manor in the background.

“Race you back?” James asked, but Remus shook his head.

“It’s a bit too far, I’d rather not.” James nodded, but he still looked worried. Remus didn’t want to worry him, but he also didn’t want to end up passed out on the floor because that wouldn’t help him either.

“I’m wearing a binder,” he admitted. “It keeps my chest flat but I can’t do anything too strenuous cos it’s kind of restrictive.” He still hadn’t quite adjusted to the fact that he was able to talk freely about being trans to his friends now, or at least... some friends. It was nice, though.

“Oh, okay. I was worried you were sick or something.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Can’t you make it… not restrictive?

“Well, then it would kind of defeat the point wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, I suppose. Do you always wear it?”

“No, at school Madam Pomfrey keeps my chest flat with magic, and I can’t wear it in bed either. It’s not good to wear it for too long.” Remus had kind of been dreading bedtime, and he had told himself he wouldn’t take it off until he was in bed and they were both going to sleep. The last thing he wanted was for James to see him without his binder on, because even though he could cover his chest up with shirts and jumpers, there was still a risk that his chest would be visible, and he would hate it if anyone saw. He couldn’t even look at it himself.

“Well, we don’t have to do anything super active then. Just tell me if you get tired, we can take breaks and stuff.”

“Thanks.” The two boys walked back in the dying light, kicking stones to each other instead of talking and finally feeling the chill of the evening air.

Chapter Text

Dinner was a chance for Remus to get to know James’s parents better. James took Remus into the kitchen before dinner was served, and Remus was met with some fantastic cooking smells that filled the entire kitchen. The utensils were stirring themselves and ingredients were flying from all directions towards the pot on the stove.

“Do you like kidney beans?” Asked James.

“I don’t hate them.”

“Good. We’re having Rajma and most of it is kidney beans. But the sauce is lovely, it’s got all these spices in it. Here.” He took a spoon from one of the drawers, dipped it into the pot of sauce and let Remus try it. “It’s hot.”

Remus took the spoon, blew on it and put it in his mouth. The sauce was really good; he’d never tasted so many flavours in one before. His mum usually just made pasta with tomatoes, and a bit of basil for garnish.

“It’s really nice.”

“Yeah, it’s that, kidney beans and rice.” Euphemia walked into the kitchen and ushered the boys out.

“Clean up for dinner, it’ll be ready in a bit.” The two went upstairs to wash their hands and returned while the table was being set by Mr Potter.

“You two had fun outside?” He asked.

“Yeah, we went to the den,” replied James. “And played pirates.”

“What are pirates?” James nodded at Remus to explain.

“They’re people who lived in boats on the sea and they had swordfights,” replied Remus. Pirates were quite hard to explain to someone who hadn’t heard of them. “They were like… sea criminals.”

“But fun!” said James.

“It probably wasn’t very fun at the time, when everyone was getting stabbed by swords.” They all sat down at the table, Remus sitting next to James, while the dishes of food started to float into the dining room. There was a bowl of rice, a bowl of the kidney beans in sauce and a plate of flatbreads. As soon as they had been set down and Euphemia had taken her seat, James dug in.

“Want some naan, Re?” He asked, holding out the plate for Remus. Remus took a piece.

“Thanks.” They were all serving themselves, so Remus copied and took a few spoonfuls of rice, covering it with the kidney beans and sauce.

“So, Remus,” began Mr Potter. “How’s Hogwarts been treating you?”

“It’s been good. I like most of the lessons, and I have friends so… it’s fun.” He obviously left out the not-so-fun stuff, the growing tension between him and the Slytherin house, as well as his friendship breakdown with Peter.

“Good to hear. Which lessons do you like?”

“I like charms and transfiguration. I hate potions though.”

“Euphemia loved potions when she was at Hogwarts,” said Mr Potter. Euphemia nodded in response.

“I was alright at it.”

“Alright? She was top of the class!”

“Lucky you, I wish I was good at potions.”

“They require a bit of a knack, but once you get the hang of them, they end up being easy. It’s just like cooking.”

“I’m not very good at cooking.”

“Well, potions aren’t too important. Anything you need you can usually buy.” You couldn’t buy Morfosis, thought Remus, which he hoped he’d be able to learn how to make when the time came for him to leave Hogwarts.

“Transfiguration is the best,” said James, joining in with the conversation. “But third year’s gonna be great because you get to choose loads more subjects.”

“Which ones are you going to choose?” asked Remus.

“Definitely Care of Magical Creatures. I want to meet a unicorn.”

“We get to meet unicorns?”

“Yeah! And dragons.”

“You don’t meet dragons,” Mr Potter laughed. “But I did meet a unicorn in Care of Magical Creatures once.”

“Really? What was it like?”

“Gorgeous creature. Far more docile than you’d think although you have to be careful obviously. No sudden movements.”

“I want to meet a unicorn.”

“Are you gonna take the lesson then?” asked James.

“I don’t know. There are so many options. I definitely want to take astrology. I’m good at it already.”

“You can say that again,” remarked James with a knowing smile. Remus kicked him lightly under the table, and James had to shove more food into his mouth in order to hide his laughter. Luckily, his parents didn’t seem to notice.

“Ancient runes are interesting,” Mrs Potter continued. “I had a friend at Hogwarts who took ancient runes and it was fascinating. Sometimes I wish I had chosen it.

“Ancient runes are booooring,” replied James. “They’re just old letters that no one uses anymore.”

“They’re useful, James. For old spells and things.”

“I want to take ancient runes,” said Remus. “But I also wanted to take arithmancy but that clashes with runes so I have to choose one or the other.”

“Arithmancy’s even worse, it’s just numbers.”

“Is everything boring to you, James?” Mr Potter sighed.

“No. Just the boring stuff.”

“Arithmancy is a little dull,” conceded Remus. “Ancient runes are cooler because it’s like unlocking a new language.”

“Yeah, but it’s ancient,” said James.

“So? Most languages are ancient. Welsh is really old but people still use it.”

“No, I mean like, ancient runes are ancient and no one uses it.”

“Well, I think they’re interesting.”

“Do you speak Welsh then, Remus?” asked Mr Potter.

“Mostly. My grandparents only speak it so I have to know it at least a little fluently.”

“They don’t speak English?” asked James. Remus shook his head.

“No. They’re a minority though. Most people in Wales either know both or they only speak English.”

“How come your grandparents didn’t learn English?”

“Cos they didn’t need to. They live on a farm right up in the highlands. It’s pretty isolated and they usually just spend their days tending to the animals.”

“That’s cool, I’d like to visit their farm.”

“It might get a bit boring for you. My grandparents are muggles so there’d be no magic. Besides, sheep are nothing compared to unicorns.”

“That’s alright, I like sheep.” Remus took a bite of naan bread.

“You should eat it like this,” said James, noticing. He held the naan bread in a sort of bowl shape and spooned some rice and sauce onto the bread. “You don’t want to eat the bread with nothing on it, it tastes even better with stuff on.”

“He can eat dinner how he wants, James.” Remus copied James, however, and ate the bread with the kidney beans on top of it. James was right, it was much better.

“Everything tastes so nice,” said Remus. “I’ve never tried Indian food before.”

“Well, I’m glad you like it.”

“I’m already done.” James pushed his plate away and sat back contentedly.

“Have another piece of naan, Jamie. We haven’t finished yet.” James took a piece of naan bread and nibbled on it while he waited for Remus to finish. He didn’t have to wait long. Remus had soon cleared his plate, as had Mr and Mrs Potter. The boys were therefore granted permission to leave the table. Before they left, however, James turned back.

“Can we use the fireplace?” he asked. “We wanted to talk to one of our friends.”

“As long as you don’t make a mess,” replied Mr Potter, “And don’t be too long.”

“We won’t. Dad likes to read his paper after dinner,” James informed as they left. Entering the living room, James pointed up to the ceiling.

“See?” It wasn’t quite dark out yet, but a few stars were visible and the sky was a lovely dark blue colour. Remus was almost mesmerised by it. It was much closer to them than at Hogwarts, because the Great Hall was so tall. James’s living room however, while big, was still far smaller than the Great Hall and definitely cosier. The sky looked near enough to almost touch with your fingertips, and Remus struggled to tear his eyes away.

James was kneeling in front of the fireplace, holding a pot of floo powder as Remus approached.

“Do you want to?” James asked. Remus took a handful wordlessly and held it in his hand for a moment as he thought. Did he really want to do this? He hadn’t realised how nervous he was to talk to Peter face to face, and that was only if they managed to convince Peter to talk to them in the first place. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, and they should have waited until they were all standing at school in person. Peter could easily refuse to speak to them here, all he had to do was leave the fireplace, or not even turn up at all. They were probably just wasting their time.

But it’s not as if they didn’t have plenty of time to waste anyway, and they were here now. They might as well.

“You know his address, right?” James asked.

“Yeah, he wrote it in a letter once.” Remus threw the powder into the fireplace. “Plough House, Edale,” he said firmly as the flames turned a brilliant shade of green. He stuck his head into the fire and felt it spinning wildly as he travelled to Peter’s house.

“Hello?” He arrived in a little under five seconds, and his head was greeted with a small living room. It appeared to be empty, but on closer look he saw signs of magic dotted around, whether it was a sleeping owl perched on a sofa arm or moving pictures lining the landing. He was probably in the right house then.

“Hello?” He turned at the voice, and saw a woman staring at him from the entrance to the living room.

“Hi. Um… is Peter here? Peter Pettigrew.”

“He’s upstairs. You a friend from Hogwarts?”

“Yeah. Remus Lupin. Our friend James is here too.” Remus discorporated body nudged James to follow him, and a few seconds later, James’s head popped up as well.

“Hi,” he greeted.

“Ah yes! Peter’s mentioned you before, I’ll just go fetch him. Won’t be a minute.” She left the room and the two waited, heads suspended in flames.

“I hope he talks to us,” said James in the following silence.

“Yeah.” Remus did want Peter to talk to them, but he was also scared of what Peter was going to say. If Peter was just going to reiterate to them that he thought Remus wasn’t really a boy, then Remus would have preferred to just continue ignoring him. It hurt last time, so he didn’t think it would hurt any less this time.

Peter shuffled into the room, keeping his distance as he did so. So he hadn’t refused to come downstairs at least, but that didn’t mean he was going to talk to them.

“What do you two want?” he said, stopping just short of the fireplace and remaining stood up.

“What do you think we want?” began James. “You stopped being our friend for no reason.”

“It wasn’t for no reason.”

“What was the reason, then?” asked Remus defiantly. “Because I’m trans? Is that really all it is?” Peter didn’t reply immediately, and conceded to sitting down in front of them so they weren’t craning their necks to look up at him.

“I don’t know,” he replied.

“Well, you need to figure out how you feel cos I can’t just wait to see if you’ll speak to me again.”

“I’ve been thinking over the past month, and it’s… it’s not so much that you were born a girl and now you’re a boy and all that. It’s just… it feels like something you should have told us. And you didn’t.”

“It wasn’t something I needed to tell you. I didn’t tell you for the same reason I didn’t tell you about my… lycanthropy.” He whispered the last word in case anyone else in the house could hear.

“But that’s different, you can get kicked out of school for that. The wizarding world doesn’t accept werewolves, so I see why you didn’t tell us.”

“Do you think that trans people are accepted? Because they’re not. I can only tell people I really trust that I’m trans because anyone else could try and hurt me. And I trusted you.” Peter looked at him directly, and Remus thought perhaps… possibly… he was getting through to him, at least slightly.

“We’ve been sleeping in the same dorm together for so long,” continued Peter. “It’s just… not right.”

“What’s not right?” said James, joining in the conversation. “It hasn’t changed anything.”

“It feels like it has though.”

“What, you can’t even sleep in the same room as me now? You’re making far too big a deal about this, and it’s not my job to try and convince you to be my friend again. I’m done, alright? We don’t have to be friends anymore. But I’m not leaving the boy’s dorm room, because why should I?”

“Come on, Pete. No one else cares. It’s really not that deep. Remus is a boy, end of story.”

“But don’t you have like… lady parts?” Remus didn’t even consider responding.

“I’m going,” he stated. James tried to get him to stay, but Remus refused. He had said he was done and he meant it. He didn’t need Peter, and he didn’t need some arsehole acting like his privacy didn’t matter anymore, as if Peter had a right to pry into everything about him just because he didn’t understand. James probably didn’t understand either, but he hadn’t felt the need to ask anything personal, so it had nothing to do with ignorance, and everything to do with being a prick.

Remus stood up in James’s living room. James was still bent over into the fireplace, continuing the conversation with Peter. Regardless of whether he convinced Peter to be friends again or not, Remus didn’t know if he even wanted to be friends with him anymore. He left the living room without a word, heading up to James’s room and waiting for James to finish. Remus lay out on the makeshift bed that must have been set up while he and James were out. It was a nice bed. From an outside appearance, it was small enough to fit in the available space, but when Remus lay on it it was as big as any other bed. An undetectable extension charm. He stretched out his legs and stared up at the ceiling.

After the funeral, when he had first told his friends, he hadn’t felt as hopeless because a part of him was sure that Peter would eventually come round by the end of summer. That he just needed a bit of time. But it had been a month now and it didn’t seem as if he’d changed his mind at all. There was still a small chance, there was always a small chance, but Remus couldn’t entertain small chances anymore. He couldn’t stay in a weird limbo of wondering if Peter would ever be his friend again, and he needed to instead move on. But it was hard, now that it had been essentially confirmed that Peter wasn’t his friend anymore. He missed him, or at least, he missed the days with him before Peter knew he was trans. He hated that he missed him, because he should have been nothing but angry at him, but images of their time together in Blackpool kept popping into his head. He thought of school, the four of them in their little group sneaking around Hogwarts together under the cloak, the map being drawn by Peter alone. How was he supposed to use the map now?

“You alright?” James had entered the room, and Remus quickly swiped a sleeve at his cheek. He hadn’t realised he’d been crying, and he didn’t want James to see.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry about what he said, that was… a shit thing to say.”

“I know. Whatever.” James sat next to him. It was all fairly subdued now, the mood being completely ruined by the conversation with Peter.

“You know, after you left, I think he felt bad about what he said.”

“Did he apologise?”

“Not… exactly. But I think he might have been starting to change his mind. Slightly. I don’t know though.”

“I don’t care. If he won’t even apologise I’m not going to be his friend.”

“I know. Me neither. And I bet Sirius won’t be too.” He smiled encouragingly, but if anything Remus felt worse.

“You’re not pissed at me, are you?” he asked.

“What? Why would I be pissed?”

“For breaking our friend group apart.”

“You didn’t do anything, it was Peter’s fault. He’s an idiot.”

“I know, but… if I hadn’t said anything, we’d still be friends.”

“But then you’d always be hiding, and that wouldn’t help anyone. Peter would always find out and be a dick, so I guess it’s out the way now.”

“Yeah but, am I being too harsh? Like… am I making a big deal?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m asking a lot, aren’t I? No one knows about trans people, so to just… expect him to be okay with it…” James shook his head.

“Me and Sirius are okay with it, so clearly you’re not asking a lot.”

“You’re not just saying that though, are you? To be polite? If you think of me as a girl, can you just tell me so–”

“Remus. I don’t think of you as a girl. It’s weird to think of you as a girl, because I’ve never known you as one. Peter’s the one with the problem.”

“I suppose.” Remus didn’t mean to be so self conscious in front of James, because he wasn’t after pity, and he didn’t like how much Peter was getting to his self-confidence, but he had to check. For his own peace of mind.

“Can we just… go to bed now?” asked Remus. James nodded.

“I can sneak down and get some food if you want, we can have a midnight feast! It’ll cheer you up.”

“Thanks but, maybe tomorrow night. I just want to go to sleep.”

“Alright.” Remus just wanted the day to end. Everything always seemed more positive in the daytime, so his best option was to just go to sleep. He waited for James to get ready, and once he was safely into bed, Remus went about his own business. He took his binder off when James was fast asleep, and set an early alarm so he could be dressed before James even woke up the next day.

James wanted to take Remus to the beach, because the weather was lovely and the Caithness coast was– in his words– stunning. Remus agreed, keen to explore the surrounding area. Mrs Potter was roped into accompanying them down to the beach.

“She doesn’t trust me near the sea. Thinks I’ll do something stupid and drown.”

“She’s probably right not to trust you.” James had a habit of losing track of time, so Remus wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up getting stranded by the tide accidentally.

“Whatever, I’m not even going that near to the sea. I like the rocks, they’re good to climb on.”

The coastline was reminiscent of the Welsh coastline, in Remus’s opinion, although he didn’t suppose coasts tended to differ that much from each other. Beach, yellow sand, sea. Maybe some sand dunes and rocks. That was about it, but this coast was certainly just as stunning. James was right about not going near the sea, because he found far more entertainment on the shore. Sand dunes were a particular favourite, and the two spent a lot of their time sliding down them in various different ways: feet first, front first, they both tried to stay upright the entire way down, but neither quite succeeded.

“Hey look, we can use this!” James had uncovered a big piece of driftwood, smooth enough to sit on and relatively free of rot. He sat on it and slid down the sand dune like he was on a sled. It was a bit unstable, and he didn’t manage to stay on it for the entire ride down, but it was still very fun. They were more keen on surfing on it than sitting on it, but that was even harder to stay upright, and they ended up just sliding down to the bottom on… well, their bottoms.

Remus took breaks when he needed to, but he tried not to make himself obvious. He sat back at the top of the dune and let James have more turns than him. When the driftwood eventually broke, and the dunes were no longer as entertaining, they moved onto the pile of rocks near the cliff face and started climbing as high as they could, or at least as high as they could before Mrs Potter told them to come back down before they got hurt.

“Can we have ice cream?” asked James, when the sun was high enough to beat down upon them and they were required to take a break in the shade.

“I think there’s a shop near here. I might not have the money though.”

“How much is it?”

“I don’t know, it’s muggle money, and I never really got the hang of that.”

“Oh, I can help!” said Remus. The three of them took a walk to the nearest village, which wasn’t too far away. An ice cream shop was almost guaranteed in a place like this, and James spotted it immediately.

“Over there!” He and Remus ran over and pressed their faces to the window.

“I want all of it,” said James. “Chocolate with that vanilla one, and that one has fudge in it. I want the fudge one.”

“No way, the chocolate chip one is better.”

“If you think chocolate chips are better than pieces of fudge then you’re insane.” Mrs Potter read the price signs on the front.

“10 pence for a scoop. That’s alright, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, that’s cheap,” replied Remus. Euphemia dug through her purse and shook out all the muggle coins she had.

“So, if that’s two scoops each then how much is that.”

“Are you having one too?”

“Can’t I just share yours, Jamie?” James looked briefly indignant before his mother broke into a smile. “I’m joking, I’ll get my own. I’ll only have one scoop though.”

“That’s fifty pence then,” said Remus.

“And that’s this one, right?” She held up a fifty pence coin. Remus nodded.

“Yeah, that’s it.”

The man behind the counter was very nice, and very chatty. His name was John and after a ten minute conversation, they ended up leaving the shop knowing all about his daughter Maude, who was at university studying to be a teacher.

“Here, try the fudge and tell me it’s not better than the chocolate chip.” James handed Remus his ice cream, and Remus took a bite.

“I’m not saying it isn’t nice, I just prefer a crunch more than the chewiness.”

“Chewiness is better. Also, I can’t believe you bite ice cream, you weirdo.”

“Licking just makes it go everywhere, and it’s already starting to melt.”

They ate their ice creams on the way back home, and Remus felt more content than he was expecting. He knew he could move on from Peter, he was sure of it. He had James, and he had Sirius and Lily and hopefully he had the other boys in his dorm (though he certainly wasn’t going to say anything to them any time soon). He didn’t need Peter.

But Peter was sitting in the living room when they returned home, chatting to Mr Potter and waiting for them to arrive.

Chapter Text

“Peter!” said James. He was just as surprised as Remus to see him sitting there, talking to Mr Potter as if nothing had happened. The two were even laughing about something, until James alerted Peter to their presence and the boy stood up. He looked a bit awkward, fiddling with his sleeves.

“Hi.”

“Peter turned up about ten minutes ago,” Fleamont informed. “Through the floo network. He asked for you two so I told him he could wait.”

“Right.”

“I’m only here to talk,” Peter added. Remus didn’t look him in the eye. He had his arms crossed and was purposefully looking away.

“I’ll leave you boys alone,” said Fleamont, walking out of the living room and leaving the three boys to stand there facing each other.

“So…” began Peter. “Nice house you’ve got–”

“What are you doing here?” Asked Remus, breaking the silence but still refusing to look at him properly. He was angry at him, and really wasn’t in the mood for talking.

“I wanted to apologise,” he said. “For what I said. It wasn’t… I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t mean to?”

“I didn’t!” Peter walked forward so they were nearer to each other, but James seemingly decided that the living room wasn’t the best place for their conversation.

“Shall we go to my room? It’s more private.” Remus nodded, if only to avoid James’s parents walking in and possibly catching them talking about Remus being trans. The three went upstairs, Peter looking around wherever they went, interested in James’s house the same way anyone is when they go to a friend’s house for the first time. James didn’t offer to give him a tour, however.

“I know you hate me and all,” Peter began as soon as they’d entered James’s room and sat down on various beds and chairs. “And I’m not saying I completely get the whole transgender thing, but I’m sorry for being a prick about the whole thing.”

“You were a prick,” replied Remus, having no intention in letting him off easy.  “You said some bullshit stuff.”

“I know.”

“And you can apologise all you want, but if you’re going to treat me differently from now on then I’m not interested.”

“I won’t. I’ll really try not to, I promise. I was thinking about it all last night, and you were right, I guess it isn’t any different than your lycanthropy. I get why you didn’t say anything.”

“How come you changed your mind so quickly?” Asked James. Remus had been thinking the same thing, and couldn’t help but be slightly suspicious.

“Cos I miss you. I didn’t want to go back to Hogwarts with no friends. I was thinking about when we was in Blackpool together and we had a laugh, didn’t we?” Remus nodded slowly, surprised that Peter had been thinking along the same lines as him last night.

“And you know, I thought… I wish we could go back to that. And then I thought… well, we could go back to that if I stopped being all stubborn.”

“But you still see me as a girl, don’t you? That's all you’ve been saying.” Peter lowered his head and fidgeted with his hands.

“I’m sorry I said all that. It was stupid, because I don’t see you as a girl. Not really. It’s kind of impossible. I think I was just… I was getting used to the idea.”

“That’s not an excuse for all the stuff you said.”

“I know. That’s why I get it if you don’t forgive me, I just wanted to apologise anyway. But, I promise I won’t say anything like that again. Like, if I do, just say I’m being an idiot and I’ll stop.”

“So you’re able to sleep in the same room as me now?” Everything Remus said was laced with some form of cynicism or sarcasm. He was glad Peter had apologised, but he didn’t think the stuff Peter had said could be made up instantly. He was willing to give him a chance, but he wasn’t ready to be friendly yet.

“Yeah, that was… that was really crap of me.” The room was quiet for a second. James wasn’t participating much, since he didn’t know if it was his place or not. Remus didn’t like them sitting around in silence, so he soon broke it.

“Alright,” he said.

“What?”

“Alright. I’ll accept your apology. But… I’m not sure if I’m ready to be friends yet. Maybe when we go back to Hogwarts, but… I don’t know. I appreciate you apologising but I’m not quite ready to forgive a lot of the stuff you said.”

“I get that.”

“You can still be friends with James and Sirius, I’m not stopping you or anything. Just… I need more time.”

“Alright.” Peter stood up from James’s desk chair. “Tell me if you change your mind, and I’m sorry again.” He didn’t seem to know what else to say. He’d said his piece and apologised, and now it was up to Remus to decide what to do with it. Remus had no idea what he wanted to do with it.

”I should go,” Peter said eventually. “My mum’ll want me back for dinner. I’ll see you at Hogwarts?”

“Yeah,” replied Remus. “I’ll see you.” Peter nodded and went to leave. James said goodbye and Peter opened the door, walking back downstairs wordlessly. The two stayed seated on their beds.

“Well… that could have gone worse?” James began. Remus lay back against his pillow, arm under his head.

“I guess. At least he apologised.”

“Listen, I won’t hang out with him at Hogwarts and leave you on your own, cos that’s not fair. I’m sticking with you. Sirius will too, I’m sure he will. He’d never leave you.” He chuckled lightly at that, making Remus look at him.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing. Just, everytime we speak he always mentions you in some way or another. He’s kind of obsessed.”

“Can’t imagine why, what’s so good about me?”

“He thinks you’re cool because of all your knowledge about muggles and all the punk stuff.”

“I forgot about that.” He hadn’t been very good at keeping up his punk way of living because it just wasn’t quite his style. Sirius had embraced it far better than he had, so he couldn’t understand why Sirius would think he was the cool one. It made him feel good though. He didn’t know Sirius had been talking about him when he wasn’t there, positive things as well.

“I think we’ll be friends again at some point,” continued Remus. “Me and Peter. I just don’t think he’s made up for everything yet.”

James’s den was improving by the day now that four hands were working on it instead of two. Remus wanted to make a campfire. He said it would create good ambience, and provide some well-needed warmth.

“It’s only useful at night,” said James. “And we’re not here at night.”

“We’ll ask your parents. I think it’d be so cool to stay out here.”

“They’ll definitely say no. But if they don’t, then I’ll ask if we can have a campfire.”

“Tidy.” Fire was one of the small parts of Remus that contradicted his werewolf form. Werewolves hated fire, naturally. It had historically been used as a threat towards them, to the point where the fear was innate. Had Remus been in his wolf form, even the sight of fire would have sent him running, but in his human form, Remus loved sitting by the fire. He could stare at it for ages, watching the flames bounce and swirl around and sparks fly out from the orange glow. He liked blowing on it lightly, to make it dance even more.

“It’s far too dangerous for you to sleep out there, I’m sorry,” said Mr Potter. Remus and James had almost convinced him and Mrs Potter to allow them out into the forest, but the answer had still eventually been a resounding no.

“Can’t you just put charms around the tent?” Asked James. “What’s going to bother us, a fox? We’ll be fine!”

“I’m sure you will be, but there’s still a risk of something happening. Charms or not, you’re far from the house. If anything happened to you, we wouldn’t know.” James sighed in defeat, and Remus stayed silent. He had tried, but he wasn’t going to push anything. He was a guest after all, and the last thing he wanted to be labelled as was a bad influence by his friend’s parents.

Which made his next decision sort of ironic.

The two were in James’s room, a few hours later, lying in bed but still chatting to each other before they went to sleep.

“It would have been cool to sleep outside,” James was saying. “We could have had our duvets and stuff. Maybe sneak some food out. My mum hides any chocolate and biscuits we have but I know where to find them.”

“Why can’t we go out anyway?”

“Because we’re not allowed.”

“I didn’t take you for such a goody two shoes, Jamie.” James sat up and frowned at the nickname.

“I’m not!”

“Then let’s just sneak out with our duvets. We can come back early morning and your parents will never even know.” James thought about it, and Remus saw the familiar light in his eyes that always spelled out mischief. He knew he’d already convinced him.

“Alright, we’ll do it,” said James with a grin. “What do we need?” They both got out of bed, excited at the prospect of not only sleeping outside, but doing it without permission.

“Just our duvets, right? We have light out there, and pillows.”

“Food. We can take some food. If my parents notice, we’ll just say we had a midnight feast in my room. They’ll be alright with that.”

“Alright, you get the food, I’ll get the sheets.” James nodded and left the room, descending downstairs as quietly as he could. Remus took his sheet and folded it as best he could, then grabbed James’s. It was a little hard to see over the pile of duvets, so he had to walk quite slowly to avoid bumping into anything. Even so, he was far ahead of James by the time James emerged from the kitchen. He was already halfway to the forest and had to wait around for ten minutes before James joined him in the den. It wasn’t a problem, because Remus could set the duvets out nicely, and place the jar of fire in the middle of the tent for them to sit round. The jar gave out a nice amount of heat, and the duvets were comfy enough anyway, so they didn’t have to worry about warmth. It was a shame about the campfire though.

“I bought marshmallows,” informed James, tipping a pile of food onto the den floor and messing up the neatness of Remus’s handiwork. “Marshmallows are good for fire, even if it is just in a jar.”

“You need sticks to put them on.”

“I can find sticks.” James peered outside. “I’ll need the jar, it’s pitch dark.”

“We should have brought another light.” Remus handed him the jar, and James held it under his chin as if he was about to tell a ghost story.

“You’re not scared are you?” He asked with a taunting smile. Remus crossed his arms in contempt at the idea.

“Course I’m not scared. It’s not like there’s anything out there.”

“Hopefully, I’m the one going out to collect sticks.” James left the tent, and subsequently left Remus in darkness. Remus was lying of course, he hated the dark. He was out in the middle of a forest in the dead of night with no way of seeing what was around him. It gave him the same feeling as he had felt in his room days after the attack. Every noise sounded like the creeping footsteps a werewolf coming to bite him, which was a stupid thought considering he already was a werewolf. Even so, every twig snap could have been Fenrir Greyback searching for him. He shivered, and pulled his duvet closer over him, hoping that James wasn’t too far away and would soon be back.

It was quiet outside. He couldn’t hear any footsteps, he couldn’t sense anyone around him. James seemed to have disappeared. Oh Merlin, what if this had been a bad idea after all? What if James had been mauled by a bear? Did you even get bears in Scotland?

Remus was all set to go after him. He didn’t need a light to help him— his eyesight was enough— although it certainly would have helped. It would have at least made him feel safer. He really didn’t want to leave the relative safety of the den though.

“James?” he called lightly. He knew he shouldn’t bring attention to himself, but he had heard some leaves crunching on the ground, and he was getting almost desperate for a sign that James was still around, and preferably not dead. He didn’t get a reply, and he wasn’t about to try again. He didn’t want to alert any bears.

He lay down, trying to get comfortable, but all of a sudden, something leapt at the den and started shaking the outside.

“Shit!” Remus bolted from under the duvet and ran out into the open, intent on not sticking around and rushing straight back to the house to inform the Potters that they were all under attack.

Then he heard laughter, and he wheeled around to face James.

“I got you so good!” He was bent double, barely able to breathe from laughing so hard. Remus strode towards him angrily and chucked the nearest stick at him.

“You arsehole!” He shouted. “You bloody, twatting arsehole!” James laughed even harder.

“Merlin, you pissed yourself! Fancy a werewolf being so scared of the woods.”

“Twmffat...” Remus muttered under his breath, heading back into the den and ignoring James completely. James followed him, poking his head round the entrance to inspect how angry Remus was at him.

“Sorry about that,” he said, still smiling. “It was kind of irresistible.”

“Whatever. I wasn’t scared, you just gave me a shock.”

“If you say so.” He crawled in and dropped a pile of sticks on the floor.

“Ta da!” he announced, looking very proud of himself.

“We only needed two,” said Remus. “For the marshmallows.”

“Like I was going to go all the way into the forest just for two sticks.” He sat down next to Remus and opened the packet of marshmallows. He took one out, skewered it on one of the sticks, and held it over the jar of fire that he had reinstated on his return.

“Wait,” interrupted Remus, pushing the stick away from the fire. “We can make our own campfire with these.”

“We can?”

“Yeah, just put them in a pile outside and use the jar to set fire to them. It’ll be bigger then, like a proper campfire.”

“Oh yeah! Alright.” James picked the sticks back up and the two boys went outside. He dropped them a good enough distance away from the tent to avoid any risk of setting fire to their shelter, and Remus tried to light one of the sticks. It wouldn’t catch.

“They’re a bit wet,” he said. “I think we need some better fuel… got any straw?”

“Where the hell would I get straw from? Would leaves work?”

“If they’re dry enough I suppose.” The two searched around for the driest leaves they could find and put them on the pile of sticks. Remus tried to pour the flames from the jar into the pile, which sort of worked. A few sparks fell out and managed to catch on the leaves. Remus blew lightly at it to spread the flames, and very soon they had a proper fire, throwing out plenty of heat and certainly giving them protection from any roaming animals.

“Now we can have marshmallows,” said Remus. James went to collect the packet, and they both stuck multiple marshmallows on one stick, like a kebab. They held it over the fire and watched as they started to toast.

“It’s cool making a fire without magic,” voiced James. He was a bit impatient, and was already biting into his slightly melted marshmallows.

“It wasn’t exactly without magic. We used the fire from the jar, and that’s magic.”

“Yeah, I guess. But we still collected all the wood and stuff.” They feel silent, listening to the crackling of the fire and eating their marshmallows. Remus’s were slightly burnt, but they still tasted nice.

“Hey, Re?”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask a question?”

“What?”

“Why did you choose the name Remus?” It was one of the first questions James had actually asked about Remus being trans, and luckily it was one that Remus was happy to answer.

“I read it in a book. You ever heard the story of Romulus and Remus?” James shook his head.

“They were these twin boys who are said to have founded Rome. They were raised by a wolf, and since I was already a werewolf by then, I liked how it fit.”

“It’s a good name.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s cool you got to choose it too. If I could choose my name, I think I’d call myself… Phoenix.”

“Phoenix? Really?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, but are you sure you didn’t just think of it because we’re sitting in front of a fire?”

“It might be that, but I think it’s a cool name anyway. Either that, or I’d call myself Wingardium Leviosa.”

“You what?”

“I’d call myself Wingardium Leviosa, so when anyone said my name, stuff would start flying about all over the place.” Remus laughed lightly.

“That suits you.”

“So… were your parents okay with you being trans?” continued James.

“My mum was. My dad took some time to come round, but he basically accepts it now.”

“Can I ask what your old name was?” Remus took another bite of marshmallow.

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Okay.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway, since I never use it anymore.”

“We can talk about something else now if you want.”

“I don’t mind, I don’t usually get to talk about this stuff. I just don’t want to talk about anything to do with me being born a girl, cos that’s private and I don’t like thinking about it anyway.”

“That’s fine, I didn’t mean to ask. Do you have any good ghost stories?”

“Why?”

“Well, we are round a campfire.”

“I don’t know any ghost stories. I know a few tales though. Myths, that my mam told me.”

“Like what?” Remus thought for a good one. He had a favourite one, which his mum didn’t like to tell him after Greyback’s attack, but he had insisted. He didn’t know why he liked it exactly, but he felt connected to it in an odd way.

“Have you heard of The Story of Gelert?” James shook his head.

“Gelert was a hound, owned by a man named Llewelyn, and he was put in charge of Llewelyn’s baby boy. He was a good guard dog, and Llewelyn really loved him.” Remus finished his last marshmallow and started sticking a few more on. 

“One night, a wolf snuck into Llewelyn’s house and tried to kill the baby. Gelert defended the wolf and killed it, but during the fight he turned over the cradle that the baby was sleeping in.” The fire was dying away slightly and it was growing chillier.

“When Llewelyn returned and saw the cradle overturned and blood everywhere, he assumed that Gelert had killed his son, so he in turn killed the dog with his sword.”

“But the dog didn’t kill the baby.”

“No. Llewelyn saw the dead body of the wolf, and heard the baby crying underneath the cradle and realised what had happened. He was so guilty by what had happened that he buried Gelert in a grave and marked it with a stone so he could always remember him.”

“Is the story true?” Remus shrugged.

“It’s just a myth. Llewelyn was said to be the prince of Wales like… hundreds of years ago. There’s a place marked in Beddgelert that’s supposed to represent the grave. Beddgelert is where it took place.

“Is it named after the dog?”

“I don’t think so, I think it’s always been called that. Before the story even came about. But I don’t know.” The fire was getting smaller now, magically returning to the size it had been in the jar, a side effect the boys hadn’t accounted for. James yawned, and Remus realised how tired he was as well. It must have been at least midnight, possibly one in the morning, and they had to be up early to sneak past James’s parents.

“We should get to bed, I think,” said Remus. “I’ve had enough marshmallows anyway.”

“Yeah, I’m exhausted.” They kept the last of the flames alight in the campfire for added protection while they were sleeping and walked back into the warmth of their den, crawling under the covers. It wasn’t long before they were fast asleep.

It was still dark when Remus and James were woken up. They were both woken up at the same time by the same thing, but it took them a moment to realise what was happening. There was no way it was morning yet.

“Boys! Wake up.” They were shaken awake by Mr Potter, who looked pretty panicked to see them. Remus froze with fear and he imagined James was in a similar situation. Somehow, they had been caught.

“I can explain,” James said instinctually before he’d even woken up properly. “We were just–”

“It doesn’t matter. Remus, you need to come back to the house, your father’s here.” Remus’s fear over getting in trouble immediately morphed into a completely different fear. If his father was here at God knows what hour in the morning, it couldn’t have been good news.

“What, why?”

“Just, let’s go back first. Euphemia’s frantic over where you two are.” They all rushed out of the forest, leaving behind all of the belongings stashed in the den. The boys were wide awake by now and very bewildered, but Remus already had a pit forming in his stomach. He remembered the day Tobin had died, before the news had been announced by Dumbledore, and some gut feeling in Remus knew exactly which name Dumbledore was going to say. Something was wrong, and Remus had a sickening feeling he knew what it was about.

“Dad, what’s going on?” Remus heard James ask Mr Potter. “Are we in trouble?”

“You are in trouble, James, but we’ll talk about that later. Now isn’t the time.” James didn’t seem to care though. He also suspected that Remus wasn’t about to receive good news and was too busy being concerned about his friend to worry about later.

When they arrived, Euphemia hugged both of them in relief.

“This is why you shouldn’t go off without telling us,” she reprimanded. “Especially not to the woods.”

“I’m sorry,” said James. Mrs Potter quickly accepted the apology and ushered James upstairs while Remus was taken into the living room. His dad was standing there looking pale and drained, and even more concernedly, he immediately went to hug his son.

“Dad, what are you doing here?” Remus asked. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s your mum,” Lyall replied, confirming Remus’s fear. Remus felt a painful stab in his chest as he avoided thinking the worst.

“What about her?”

“She collapsed, this evening,” he informed. “She’s in hospital.”

Chapter Text

For once, Remus didn’t even notice the whirling of the green flames around him as he and his father flooed home. Too many thoughts were whizzing through his mind, and already he could feel ice-cold guilt settling down on his shoulders. Why did you leave her? he kept asking himself over and over. I knew you shouldn’t have left her on her own, you idiot!

“Why are we here? Why aren’t we at the hospital?” They had arrived back home in Wales and Lyall was now ushering Remus out the front door.

“She’s at a muggle hospital,” he replied simply. “We can’t floo there.” They drove instead, which was nowhere near quick enough for Remus’s liking, but at least it gave him the opportunity to question his father on what was going on.

“Why is she in hospital? What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know. They’re doing tests. All I know is that your gran and grandad found her unconscious at home and called an ambulance.” This caused even more thoughts to explode from Remus’s mind. Thank God he’d made his grandparents check in on her, but how long had she been unconscious before they had found her? Had Remus been there, he could have helped her immediately, perhaps before she’s even had the chance to collapse in the first place.

“Is she going to be okay?” Is she going to die? is what he wanted to ask, but he supposed the questions were both the same really, and they both had the same meaning behind them: did I hurt my mum?

“I don’t know,” was all Lyall could say, and for once, Remus wished his father wasn’t so honest all the time.

Remus had only ever visited a hospital once. It was St Mungo’s and Lyall’s father had been dying of Dragon Pox. They hadn’t been allowed to go near him.

Other than that, his family were generally in good health and no one had needed to visit the hospital. Remus had been to plenty of childhood checkups in various clinics, but he’d usually always been fine and had never needed a follow up trip to hospital. This was mostly down to his parents, who were even more terrified of him going to the hospital than any other parents because they didn’t want anyone finding out that he was a werewolf, and nor did they want anyone finding out that he was trans (he had hated visits to his GP when he was a child, because he was still registered under his old name, so he was treated as a girl whenever he was there. His parents had to go along with it, to avoid any complications. The only bonus was that his mum had always bought him a treat afterwards as some compensation. He usually chose a Doctor Who comic and a chewy lollipop). Therefore, he’d always been protected in pretty much a bubble his whole life until he was able to prove to his parents that he was trustworthy enough to go out on his own.

The point was, Remus wasn’t used to hospitals, especially not muggle hospitals. It didn’t take him long to decide he hated them. At least in St Mungo’s, the waiting room had been slightly comical in a way. Surreal. It was hard not to laugh when someone had accidentally transfigured their head into the head of a badger. But here, in this muggle waiting room, everyone just looked… like people. But nothing felt positive. People were scared, or stressed or sad. People had hurt their legs or their arms or their faces, people looked visibly ill– pale, drained and hunched over. Some were old and frail. Nothing good could happen here, thought Remus, and his mum was right in the heart of it.

Lyall led Remus away from the tiny waiting area and down a few blindingly white corridors. Nurses and doctors bustled by, smiling at them as they walked past. Remus put his head down so he didn’t have to smile back. Eventually, they reached a corridor with a few chairs where Remus’s grandparents were waiting. As soon as they spotted Remus and Lyall, they came over to greet them. Remus’s grandma pulled him into a tight hug.

“She’s okay,” she whispered in his ear, in Welsh. Remus looked at her hopefully.

“Are you sure?” He asked. His gran nodded.

“She woke up around ten minutes ago. They put her on an IV or something.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Asked Lyall, echoing Remus’s own questions.

“The doctors don’t quite know yet, but they think it’s to do with her liver.” Remus translated for his father, who had only learnt basic conversation in the language, and was a bit rusty nonetheless. Lyall looked confused.

“Liver?” Grandpa Dafydd nodded.

“Liver failure, apparently.” Lyall was shocked.

“How can she possibly have liver failure, she barely even drinks!” Everyone was as clueless as he was. Remus was no expert, and he had no idea how bad liver failure was, but he was sure that anything describing a vital organ as failing certainly couldn’t have been good. Before he could ask, however, a doctor came out of Hope’s room and greeted them. Everyone was up on their feet instantly.

“Thank you for waiting,” the doctor said. “We’ve been running tests on her, and put her on a dialysis machine. She’s awake now, so you can see her.” Remus tried to grab one of the adults’ attention for permission to go and see his mum, but they weren’t finished yet.

“There was talk of liver failure,” began Lyall. “Is that true? How is that possible?”

“We haven’t had results back yet, but it does seem that her liver is failing, yes. We don’t know why.”

“Well… is she going to be okay?”

“With the dialysis machine, she should hopefully recover, but it could take a few weeks. And if she does go home, she’ll need to take it easy, go on a specific diet, come in for regular checkups, that sort of thing. But we don’t need to discuss that yet.” Remus didn’t like the uncertainty. He didn’t like the doctor’s use of the word ‘if’. If she does go home. So there was a possibility that she wouldn’t go home?

“When are the results coming back?” Asked Dafydd. Remus translated for the doctor, but the doctor stopped him and replied. Apparently he had a fairly good understanding of Welsh, but wasn’t very good at speaking it. Like a lot of people in the country.

“Soon,” Remus clarified to his grandparents when the doctor finished answering. “We can go and see her in the meantime.”

“I’ll go and find a nurse who can speak Welsh,” said the doctor, to Remus specifically. “So you don’t have to keep translating.” Remus barely listened. He was the first in the room, rushing over to his mum’s side.

“Are you alright, mammy?” He asked her softly, his eyes wide with concern. She smiled at him, but it was weak. Everything about her seemed weak, frail. As if she was too fragile to touch. There was very little colour in her cheeks and she looked exhausted. This wasn’t Remus’s mam, and it frightened him.

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Just a bit under the weather.” As much as he disliked how much she always downplayed anything that was wrong with her, he had to admit, he needed it right now. He needed her to assure him that she was okay, whether it was true or not.

Lyall bent over her and planted a rare kiss on her forehead.

“Gave us a real scare there, love,” he murmured, a little awkwardly but affectionately nonetheless.

“I’m sorry, but I’ll be alright.” Lyall looked nervous, and he sat down beside her, taking her hand in his.

“I’m sure you will, but… the doctors say your liver’s failing. Did they tell you that?” Hope looked surprised, which answered his question immediately.

“That can’t be possible,” she said. “I thought liver failure happened to people who drink, or smoke?” Lyall shrugged.

“Apparently not.” Remus’s grandparents interrupted to give their daughter a hug and ask how she was. Remus stayed quiet, holding his mum’s other hand. Liver failure. How the hell had that happened? They thought it had just been flu, and this entire time she’d… Remus didn’t know how to react to the news, but he couldn’t help blaming himself for leaving her alone when she was still ill.

“Mam?” Hope turned back to him. “I’m sorry I left you. I knew I shouldn’t have, and if I hadn’t then you’d probably be okay and–” Hope place her hand on Remus’s cheek to stop him from continuing.

“It’s not your fault, cariad, don’t think like that. I wanted you to go to James’s house, and I’m glad you did.”

“But–”

“Did you have fun?”

“Huh?”

“At James’s house.”

“Oh er… yeah. Yeah, he has this den he built in the forest and we played pirates together.” She smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile too. He knew what she was doing, distracting him from his own thoughts. He fell for it everytime, and he was glad he did.

“That sounds fun!” Remus nodded.

“We sort of snuck out so we could sleep in the den and we ate marshmallows.” He wouldn’t usually have revealed anything that may get him into trouble, but such was the precarious situation he and his mother were in, he felt like he should tell her everything. His father and grandparents had stepped back to let the two talk, his grandparents sitting near them, and Lyall sitting quietly on the other side of the bed. He was still holding Hope’s hand.

“We built a campfire too, to roast the marshmallows.”

“How did you do that?”

“With sticks, and a jar that had fire in it already. It was magic, one of those portable fires for when you're cold. Anyway, I told him the story of Gelert and Llewelyn. You know, my favourite story. And then we went to sleep.”

“See?”

“See what?”

“You had a good time, didn’t you?” Remus nodded. “So I don’t want you regretting it and blaming yourself for something that you couldn’t control.”

“I know…” Remus still couldn’t help going through all the stuff he could have done to prevent his mum being in hospital, but he supposed under the circumstances, she was always going to end up in the hospital and there really was nothing he could’ve done.

The door of the room opened, and the doctor who had spoken to them before arrived with a woman in tow, who was apparently the translator for Hope’s parents.

“The tests have come back,” the doctor began, holding his clipboard in front of him and lowering his reading glasses. “Apparently, Hope has what’s known as Glomerulonephritis.” Every family member in the room looked at him blankly.

“It’s a mouthful,” he admitted. “It’s a kidney disease, where your glomeruli are inflamed. They’re the tiny filters that remove excess fluid.”

“But, it can be treated, can’t it?” Asked Lyall. The doctor looked back at his clipboard before replying, an unwelcome hesitation that set them all on edge.

“Luckily the liver failure is still in early stages, which means it can be treated. We’re going to try putting Hope on immunosuppressants, a treatment we use for serious cases of Glomerulonephritis. It’s not always successful, certainly in cases where the liver has already begun to fail, but if the treatment does work and Hope starts to recover, then we can think of lowering the dose and focusing more on a diet change. Diet changes are a common treatment for this sort of condition.” It seemed reasonable enough, but Remus didn’t want to ponder about the “it’s not always successful” part of the explanation. So he ignored it, and let blind faith that his mum would get through this take over instead.

“When can I go home?” Asked Hope, a far more pressing question than anything to do with her recovery.

“We need to start your treatment first, and monitor your recovery before we can even think of you going home. You may be here for a few weeks, but if the treatment is successful then we’ll hopefully be able to discharge you afterwards, as long as you’re able to be monitored at home to ensure you’re recovering well.” Looks were shared across the room. It appeared that living arrangements were going to have to be discussed, and it finally confirmed a theory that Remus had been toying with lately: two people simply weren’t enough. Two people were too risky, and if something happened to one, then what would happen to the other? Remus couldn’t be there to look after his mother all the time, so they needed a third person. Would she go and live with her parents after this? It would take a lot to convince her to leave her home, and he didn’t think any of his family would be able to succeed.

Remus stayed with his mother while Lyall left the room to continue speaking to the doctor, and his grandfather went to look for some coffee. Remus wanted to continue distracting both of them, so he talked more about his limited time with James, about James’s parents and the charmed ceiling that looked even prettier than the Hogwarts one. Hope listened to every word he said, and as she lay there smiling at his anecdotes, he felt certain that her condition was just a temporary setback. His mum would be fine, he knew she would be. She always was.

An hour passed, with doctors coming in and out of the room, grandparents going backwards and forwards for drinks and snacks, Lyall pacing around outside the door. Hope was still exhausted, and she was soon asleep. Remus kissed her on the forehead and let his father take him home.

”Can’t you magic her better?” Remus asked as they left, with the naivety of childhood. He was sure there must be something magic could do, or what was the point of it? Just to look pretty? His father shook his head.

”I’m afraid not, or believe me, I would. She’s a muggle, and while I could probably fix up a small injury with magic, this is an organ. It’s far too risky to perform magic anywhere near a muggle’s organ system. It could cause a deadly reaction.” Remus sighed in disappointment. As much as he loved his muggle heritage, he sometimes wished his mother was magic too. Life would be much easier, and she may not have even got sick in the first place. This type of stuff didn’t tend to affect wizards because they could cure it easily with a simple spell or potion, but Hope was as vulnerable as the next muggle, and it stressed Remus out no end. He brooded over it for the entire journey home.

They’d be back tomorrow to see her, and the next day, and the day after. To see her treatment begin, and to accommodate even more family members arriving (Selene brought a large bouquet of flowers that had definitely been charmed– subtly so– to never wilt or die. They were as colourful and blooming a week later as they had been when she’d brought them, much to the amazement of the nurses).

Hope was recovering, slowly but surely. The immunosuppressants meant that she had to stay pretty isolated from everyone to avoid any infection. Selene was lucky to even get her flowers through the tight restrictions. Only close family members were allowed and they had to wear masks when they visited. Lyall– ever the cautious– had already charmed them all with protection for Hope’s sake, but they still wore masks, if only to avoid getting in trouble with the doctors.

Lyall stayed with Hope more than anyone else, while Remus was forced to stay with his grandparents and only visit during visiting hours. Hope had insisted, saying he needed to sleep, and do his homework, and to be out in the fresh air. Remus didn’t mind staying with his grandparents of course, but he felt like he needed to make up for leaving Hope when he had, and wanted to stay with her as much as he could. He didn’t think it was fair. His parents weren’t even together anymore, so why was his dad allowed to see her all the time but Remus wasn’t? He mulled over the unfair situation in his head for a few days, taking long strolls through the pastures of his grandparents’ farm. He liked looking at the sheep, and seeing all the spring lambs getting bigger as the months went on. One of the lambs was unusually clingy, and Remus could often count on it to come bouncing towards him searching for an offering of freshly-plucked grass poked through the fence. It liked Remus especially, because Remus always snuck it better food than grass, such as the juicy vegetables from the allotments. He absentmindedly handed the lamb a carrot, patted its head gently and sat with his back to the fence while the lamb stood crunching behind him.

Remus whistled an old tune, something he rarely did when he was relaxed. Whistling was his stress manifesting itself in erratic notes and shrill tones. The lamb lay down next to him, surprisingly close enough for him to continue patting it. He had already named it Wolf as an extension of the irony that he liked about it being friends with him. Wolves and sheep famously didn’t get along, although he supposed that –famously– wolves and sheep intertwined into a metaphor about lying, which was an irony that was too complex for Remus to consider, but the point was: it was nice for a lamb to trust him enough to receive a nice scratch under the chin without feeling the need to run away from what was supposed to be an enemy. Perhaps Wolf had personally named him Sheep.

Remus wrote to James pretty soon after his mum had been admitted to hospital, once things had settled down enough for Remus to think coherently. He let James know what was going on and that his mum was okay, and that he was sorry that his visit had been cut short. The apology was unnecessary under the circumstances, but Remus still felt he should at least acknowledge it. And he was sad that he had only been able to stay with James for two days as opposed to the rest of the holidays, but he’d see him soon enough at least. He’d see Sirius as well, which he was really looking forward to. He was anxious at seeing Peter, but he didn’t think he could worry about that anymore. If he tried to worry about anything else after his mother he may combust. He certainly felt that way lately.

James sent him back a letter with his condolences and a massive box of sweets that poor Arianrhod had a real struggle with carrying. Remus gave her an extra owl pellet as reward. As much as he was looking forward to seeing his friends again at school, he was in two minds about returning. As things went, the holidays were nearly over, and Hope wouldn’t be out of hospital by the time school came around. He wanted to be there when she moved back home, and he wanted her to see him off as she always did.

Remus prompted the subject with his father a few days before the end of summer. It gave Lyall the opportunity to admit to him that he had decided on moving back into the house temporarily, in order to keep an eye on Hope. She didn’t want to leave her house and live with her parents, but there was no way she could stay at home on her own, and her parents had a farm to run.

“Is that a good idea?” Asked Remus. “What if you start arguing again?”

“We won’t, I’ll make sure we don’t. Her condition is too… fragile. I’m not going to put her under any stress.”

“I know, but you two might not be able to help it.”

“I think it’ll be okay. Ever since this whole thing happened, we sort of started to… rekindle our friendship at least.”

“Really?” They had seemed closer than usual, Remus had thought. Almost like how they’d been before their marriage became strained (before Remus had been attacked… an added fact he had avoided thinking about for a long time now, and one that he would continue to avoid). Lyall nodded.

“It’s just a shame about the circumstances that caused it,” he concluded. Remus eventually accepted that his father would be taking care of Hope, because at least he knew that someone would always be with her, regardless of the relationship between them. He still asked for frequent updates, which Lyall assured was already a given.

On the last day before Remus left for Hogwarts, he sat with his mum in the hospital. She was still on medication, but she was getting stronger by the day, and the doctor had already told them that she'd be discharged soon (but with the exception that she had to frequent her GP regularly for check ups). Hope was sitting up in bed, and Remus was reading one of his books out loud to her. He didn’t really like the book: Jane Eyre. He found it incredibly boring, one of those books that you read purely for academic purposes, not for enjoyment. But his mum had a different opinion, and apparently had loved Jane Eyre when she was his age. She admitted it had taken her a while to get through and it wasn’t until she had finished it that she realised she had enjoyed it. Remus couldn’t understand how you could read a book and not realise you were enjoying it until the end, but he wasn’t about to argue. He didn’t mind reading it out loud. He needed to practice his speaking skills after all; Dave Cohen, the Hogwarts Quidditch commentator, would have graduated by next year, so the commentator position was open. Remus wanted that position.

He told his mum about it.

“You’d be good!” She enthused. “I’d love to see you commentate.”

“You could come! If I get the position. Parents are allowed to come to Quidditch games.”

“Then you better tell me if you get the part, so I can come.”

“The part? It’s not a play.” Hope lay back against her pillow.

“It’s a shame your school doesn’t have plays, you’d be good in one.” She was drifting off onto a different subject now, something she did fairly regularly at the moment. The medication was making her slightly out of it, and her conversations went in all sorts of directions. Remus struggled to keep up.

“How do you know? I’ve never been in a play before.”

“No, but you used to put on little shows when you were small. You were so cute. You dressed up in your father’s robes and pretended to be a magical detective, or King Arthur, or a boy in a street gang.”

“I barely remember that.” He must have been young. He hadn’t thought about King Arthur for years, and the boy in the street gang act must have been his attempt at reenacting West Side Story, the musical he’d been obsessed with as a child. It had only come out a few years previously when he had first watched it and he was enthralled. Musicals were a guilty pleasure of sorts, one which he kept under wraps from the other boys in case it got him teased. Of course, he knew his friends wouldn’t tease him, in fact Sirius would probably be even more obsessed than he was. He’d never watched TV before, or seen a film, and he’d definitely never watched a musical. He’d probably implode with joy at the sight of one. Remus kept the thought in the back of his mind, reminding himself to introduce Sirius to the wonders of film one day.

Hope was soon fast asleep. She fell asleep quickly these days and usually wouldn’t wake up until the following morning, so Lyall would come into the room at this point and take Remus home. Hope wanted to stay awake, but it was impossible. Remus never forced her, although he was a little sad that he had forgotten to say goodbye, since he probably wouldn’t see her until the next half term (he certainly hoped he wouldn’t see her until half term, because any situation where he had to skip school to come home early and see her couldn’t have been a good one). He still said goodbye anyway, even if she couldn’t hear him.

“I’ll see you in a few months, mam.” He kissed her lightly on the hand and let Lyall lead him from the room.

“You’ll definitely look after her, won’t you?” He asked anxiously when they were almost out of the hospital.

“Of course I will. I’ll be there twenty-four-seven, so don’t worry.” Lyall ruffled Remus’s hair in an affectionate manner, but Remus knew he’d still worry. Of course he would. He had the constant fear that he would be woken up one night to Lyall telling him his mum was in hospital again… or worse.

Remus spent the evening packing, and tried to get an early night. He read a few chapters of Jane Eyre under the light of the half-moon and fell asleep with his face against the pages. It wasn’t actually that bad, once you got used to it. You had to think about it though, before you realised that you actually liked it. He could see where his mother was coming from.

Chapter Text

The absence of Remus’s mother at the platform was noticeable, but he put it aside as the steam from the train engulfed the crowd of students and he searched avidly for his friends. He found Lily first, who hugged him and helped him onto the train so the two could find an empty compartment. She was waiting for Severus, and he was waiting for the others, so they sat together on their own for a bit, catching up on the holidays. Remus didn’t mention his mum; he had already decided not to tell his friends about it, if only to avoid thinking about it himself. Although, he didn’t know if James had told Sirius or not. He didn’t think he would. Despite James’s chattiness, and his tendency to speak before thinking, he never gave up important information about his friends. Remus trusted him to never tell anyone about his lycanthropy, or him being trans, so he was sure James had already worked out that this may have been a secret that Remus didn’t want to be talked about. At least not yet. Owain joined them a few minutes later, with Jethro behind him. They said hi, and asked if they could sit.

“Of course you can,” said Lily, and the two boys joined them. “We’re talking about summer. What did you two do?”

“Nothing much,” replied Owain. “Stayed at home, but we did have a bonfire and Anwen and I made a rope swing on this old oak tree above a lake.”

“That sounds cool,” said Remus.

“It was! Until it snapped and Anwen fell in and got wet.” He struggled not to laugh at the memory of it. “It was hilarious, she was so annoyed.”

“Did you fix it?”

“Yeah, dad made it strong again with magic, impossible to break, but Anwen still refused to go on it.” He shrugged. “More turns for me.”

“What about you, Jeth?” Jethro was fairly quiet, and they weren’t sure how much to ask him. This was his first year back without Tobin, after all, and the summer had begun with Tobin’s funeral. They weren’t even sure if talking about their holidays at all was a good idea, but he smiled lightly and didn’t mention it.

“We stayed at home too, but we had some nice days out. I rode a steam train!”

“You’re already riding a steam train.”

“I mean a muggle one, where you can actually go into the driver’s carriage and see the fire lit in the engine and the coal being shovelled in. Took you around the countryside, it did, with the whole window area open so you could stick your head out.”

“It’d be cool if you could stick your head out of this train,” said Owain. Jethro nodded in agreement.

“I expect it’d be too dangerous,” said Remus. “It’s too fast. How fast did your train go?”

“Oh, not too fast, just normal speed. Did the trolley lady go past yet?” Remus was now used to Jethro’s speed at changing the subject in every conversation had with him, so he only took a moment to reply with “not yet.”

“What did you two do?” asked Owain.

“We went to Ireland,” said Lily. “Belfast. It was nice!”

“Why’d you go there?”

“It’s near? Not too expensive either. Petunia wanted to go somewhere like Spain as usual, but who the hell can afford to go to Spain? I only knew one person who went to Spain. A girl who lived in my street called Fiona, and her parents were bankers so they were loaded.”

“My dad said Ireland’s just cold and wet all the time.”

“How’s that any different than here? Besides, it’s summer. It was lovely. We went to the beach.

“I went to the beach too,” piped up Remus. “With James. He lives in John O’Groats.”

“Oh yeah, I know that. It’s very nice.” Remus nodded. As he did, the compartment door slid open and James and Sirius practically bounced in, grinning.

“Hi! We almost missed you!” greeted James, out of breath as usual. He seemed to be unable to walk through the train’s corridor, preferring instead to run and possibly bowl over a few unsuspecting students. Remus jumped up when he saw Sirius and couldn’t stop himself from hugging him. He’d missed him more than he’d realised. Sirius returned the hug, apparently thinking along the same lines because he squeezed extra hard. They lingered slightly, before pulling apart awkwardly and sitting down opposite each other. Remus studied Sirius for a moment, trying to work out what was different.

“Your hair,” Remus began. “It’s really long.” It was certainly longer than it had been before, right past his shoulders. Sirius fiddled with a few stands absent-mindedly.

“Yeah, I grew it out.” He looked a bit shy over it. “It looks weird, doesn’t it?” Remus shook his head quickly.

“Not at all! I like it,” he added for good measure.

“Really? My parents kept calling me a girl and said I should cut it off.”

“Don’t listen to them, mate,” said James. “Bloody hypocrites anyway. I’ve seen plenty of wizards with long hair, especially purebloods. They think they look so sophisticated, and I don’t see your parents complaining about them. ”

“Yeah I know,” Sirius sighed. “I guess it’s just me they’ve got a problem with.” Lily pinched the end of his hair.

“Christ, Sirius, it’s nicer than mine. Lucky bugger.” She wasn’t wrong. His hair wasn’t as straggly as it usually was, messed up from his hands running through it and his refusal to use a hairbrush for weeks on end. It was still wavy, but it had a shininess to it. Remus struggled to stop looking at it, but he soon tore his eyes away when he realised it was making him feel weird and he didn’t like that. He stared out of the window instead, and waited for the conversations to start up again. He didn’t notice Owain staring at Sirius just as hard, with an almost wistful look on his face.

“What’d you do for the holidays then, Re?” Sirius asked, looking at him expectantly. His expression answered Remus’s question on whether James had told him about his mum or not. Sirius had no idea.

“I went to James’s house.”

“Yeah, James said! You two built a den or something.” James smiled and launched into his own retelling.

“Yeah and I told you about pirates, right Sirius?” Sirius nodded. “We should play pirates together, it’d be fun. Swords are more fun than wands.”

“I’ve never been to someone’s house before,” said Sirius. “At least, not a friend’s house. I’ve been to plenty of houses with my parents before, for… meetings and stuff.” He didn’t elaborate on what sort of meetings, but Remus could imagine.

“Wish you could come to my house,” said James.

“Why can’t you?” asked Lily. “Seems to me you could just tell your parents you're going to someone else’s house, and then go to James’s instead. You’ve got a floo network, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but it’s too risky. My parents will find a way to check on me, plus they’d only approve of kids who are kids of the twenty eight, and they all talk with each other all the time. They’d work it out immediately.” He was starting to work up a mood, so Remus tried to divert his attention.

“Hey Sirius, have you ever read Treasure Island?” Remus asked, knowing full well that Sirius hadn’t. Sirius curiously shook his head. “It’s about this boy who finds a treasure map and sails to an island with a few other people, but one of them forms a mutiny and kills two of the guys. His name’s Long John Silver and he’s a pirate.” Sirius– as well as James– was intrigued. James was already excited at the mention of a pirate.

“Does he have a sword?” asked James. Remus nodded.

“Yup! And probably a pirate hat as well. They all try to find the treasure, but when they do, the original pirate crew ambushes them and fights them. There’s a lot of sword fighting in the book, in fact most of it’s just sword fighting.”

“Cool!”

“I wish I had a sword,” said Sirius. “I’d be great with a sword. I’d swish it all over the place and no one would dare come near me.” He raised his wand as a demonstration, and everyone had to duck out of the way in case he accidentally blew one of them up.

“Merlin, Sirius, put that thing away!” Owain yelled, his arms covering his head. “No one would already dare come near you with that.”

“You could kill someone with that,” remarked Remus, slowly returning to his sitting position once Sirius had put his wand away.

“Or at least take someone’s eye out,” concluded Jethro. Sirius just shrugged. The compartment door slid open, and Peter stood there in the doorway. The carriage fell silent as everyone turned to look at him.

“Hi. Er… there’s nowhere else to sit. Do you mind?” Everyone immediately turned to look at Remus, except for Jethro and Owain, who didn’t actually know what was happening, but were certainly wondering why no one was saying anything. Remus felt uncomfortably scrutinised. He didn’t care where Peter sat, but he didn’t want to make things awkward either. He’d had enough of that already.

“Yeah, you can sit here,” Remus said, giving him nothing with his tone of voice. Peter sat next to Jethro, fairly away from Remus, and pulled out a book to read. He had clearly decided that he didn’t need to speak to them, as long as he could at least be near them. Remus decided he preferred that as well.

“What’s er… what’s going on?” Owain asked, looking between Peter and Remus.

“Nothing,” replied Remus. “We just fell out a bit over the holiday’s. It’s fine now.” Peter looked up at him, silently wondering if Remus was telling the truth, and things actually were fine now. Remus was neither telling the truth nor lying, because the truth was, he didn’t know either. He could share a compartment with him at least, so there was some sort of progress he supposed. Maybe they’d be able to conduct an amiable enough conversation eventually.

He really did hate how much their friendship had been ruined in such a short amount of time, but he was moving as fast as he was prepared to. If Peter cared enough, he could wait until Remus had reached a point where he didn’t immediately flashback to Peter’s hurtful comments every time he saw the boy, leaving him with a painful lump in his throat.

“What did you do this summer, Pete?” asked Jethro, attempting a conversation with someone he didn’t realise half the compartment was still conflicted with.

“I went to Blackpool again,” said Peter, quietly. “Like we always do. It was fun.” He glanced once more at Remus, thinking back again at their time on Blackpool pier together. Remus held his gaze.

“Did you go to the circus again?” Remus asked, surprised at himself for being the one to continue the conversation. Peter looked just as surprised as he did.

“Yeah, I did. Charlie Cairoli was still there, you know, the clown.”

“Yeah, I remember him.”

“What’s a clown?” asked Sirius, which– unbeknownst at the time– ended up being the catalyst for Remus and Peter’s mending friendship.

“A clown is someone in circuses who falls all over the place and gets buckets of water thrown on them,” explained Peter.

“Unless they’re throwing buckets on the audience, then it’s just confetti,” continued Remus. “And they have pies thrown in their faces.”

“Yeah! And they ride tricycles and have big red cheeks and funny hats.”

“I hate clowns,” interjected Lily. Peter gaped at her.

“How can you hate clowns, they’re the funniest things!”

“No they’re not, they’re terrifying! They have horrible face paint and creepy smiles and big red noses and they laugh like… like… well, they’re scary, alright?”

“I don’t think so. Besides, the clown at Blackpool doesn’t look like that, he’s nice.” And before anyone knew it, they were all discussing whether or not clowns were scary or not. Lily took the stance that they were, Peter took the stance that they weren’t, Remus was neutral on the matter (he agreed that clowns could definitely be scary at times, but Charlie Cairoli wasn’t one of them). Jethro hated clowns as well. The others, who didn’t know what clowns were, chose sides purely based on the biased opinions they heard. James said he liked the sound of clowns, as did Sirius– who really just liked anything muggle– and Owain wasn’t there because he had gone to find the trolley lady.

Their discussion was never resolved because there were too many voices talking at once, and too many points being thrown around to even be properly considered. But the point was, they were having fun. Remus caught Peter’s eye at one point, and nodded at him. Peter nodded back with a smile. It wasn’t exactly an “all is forgiven” nod, but more of a “we can move on from this” sort of nod. And Remus really hoped that they could.

Remus had forgotten that each new year began with a Sorting Ceremony. He was bored of them by now, impatient to get to dinner since all he’d eaten so far was a pumpkin pasty on the train ride there. Now he had to sit for over half an hour, watching student after student sit down on the stool for a few minutes before the hat shouted out their house name.

He yawned.

“Lovegood, Xenophilius!” A little boy with long white hair wandered up to the hat as if he were in a dream. Only a minute later was he sorted into Ravenclaw. Remus looked at his watch, which stopped working the second he entered into the Hogwarts grounds. The hands were stuck at six o five pm, but he looked at it anyway, if only for something to glance at.

The last students made their way to their assigned tables, a few Slytherins, a Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff. Remus watched the empty plates, trying to conjure the food up himself with his mind as he ignored Dumbledore’s welcome speech and instructions towards first years not to go near the Forbidden Forest– Remus still wasn’t sure how much that rule applied to him.

At last, when Remus was at the risk of alerting the table with his empty stomach growling, the plates were finally filled with the mounds of food they had all missed. Remus spooned out a pile of roast potatoes, some slices of beef, and drowned the whole thing in gravy. He tucked in.

“How’s your mum by the way?” James leaned in and whispered to him, inaudible to the others over the noise of the Great Hall. They had already been eating long enough, so conversations were starting to re-open now that they weren’t focused solely on satiating their hunger.

“She’s alright,” he replied, equally as quiet. “She should be coming back from hospital soon. I’ll be talking to dad tonight.”

“I take it you don’t want to tell the others?” Remus shook his head.

“I don’t see the point. It’s not really anyone’s business anyway.” James nodded, and dropped the conversation, in case he was considered one whose business it wasn’t.

“Pass the potatoes will you, Re,” piped up Lily from a few seats down. “You’re hogging them.” Remus passed the bowl over and drank up the gravy from his plate like it was soup. He wasn’t the neatest of eaters, especially when it came to anything meaty. He didn’t know if that was part of being a werewolf or if he was just like that, but he did know that he’d never be able to be a vegetarian (he’d tried it once when he was younger, guilty as he was about his wolf form, but after a week with no meat he started to feel terribly weak, and he was forced to give up. Nowadays, the only thing he refused to eat was lamb).

The common room usually filtered out early on the first night, with first years instructed to be in bed by eight, and the older kids not wanting to risk missing their first day back. This was good news for Remus, because it meant he could talk to his dad fairly soon after he returned to the common room from the hospital wing after a brief check up from Madam Pomfrey (everything seemed to be in order, and she was pleased with the progress of the morfosis potion; as was Remus, who had even noticed a small Adam’s apple forming recently and was ecstatic for the rest of the day afterwards).

The common room was quiet, and lit only by the soft glowing of the embers from the fireplace. Remus sat in front of it with a blanket around his shoulders and threw a handful of floo powder into the grate.

“House six, Masters Grove, Gwynedd.” The embers turned to green flames, and Remus waited for his father to notice. It didn’t take long.

“Hello, Remus. How’s your first day going?” Lyall’s head appeared in front of him, smiling in greeting.

“It’s hardly a day, is it? Just the Sorting Ceremony and dinner.”

“But dinner was good?”

“It always is.” Remus changed his position until he was in a more comfortable one. “How’s mum?”

“She’s doing okay,” replied Lyall. “She’s still in hospital, but they think she can go home in a few days.”

“So her liver’s alright?”

“Well, it’s not alright. But it’s recovering. I’ll have to keep an eye on her, and she has to change how she eats and go for check ups all the time.” He sighed. He looked as exhausted as he did during the beginnings of his and Hope’s split up.

“It sucks,” said Remus. Lyall nodded.

“It does.”

“How did this even happen? It’s not fair.”

“I know, but… hey, as long as we’ve all got each other, right? We’ll be fine.”

“I suppose. Tell mam I said hi, and that I love her and all that.”

“I will. You have a good day tomorrow. You get to choose your new subjects, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Remus brightened a little. “Can’t wait.”

“Have you decided what you’re taking?”

“Of course! I couldn’t leave it that last minute. I’m choosing Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes.”

“Oh good, I was worried you were going to go with Divination.”

“What’s wrong with Divination?”

“It’s useless, believe me. Seeing the future?” He blew the breath out of his nose. “It’s a flimsy practice at the best of times, and at the worst of times it’s downright bullshit.”

“Well, I don’t know. Seeing the future might be useful.” He could see if his mother would be alright, and if not then he could try and change things to make sure she would be.

“Yeah, if it worked. But it doesn’t.”

“Well, maybe you’re just too much of a sceptic. I’ll ask Owain, he’s taking Divination. And I think Lily and her friend Marlene are too.”

“Exactly, it’s a girl’s lesson.” He grinned as Remus rolled his eyes.

“That’s sexist. Besides, Owain’s not a girl. So you’re wrong.”

“Alright, alright. I’d better go. Stay out of trouble, yeah?”

“When have I ever been in trouble?” Remus had never been in trouble, because he’d never been caught. His dad had nothing to worry about.

“I know, you’re a good boy. I can trust you. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Uh huh. Bye, dad.” Lyall waved, and disappeared. The green flames died down until they returned to the orange glow of the dying fireplace fire. Remus was about to stand up, when he heard a small cough behind him. He turned his head, and saw Sirius standing there in the darkness.

“Hi,” said Sirius.

“Hi… what are you doing here?”

“I didn’t mean to spy or anything, and I wasn’t!” He walked over until he was more visible in the dim light. He was half dressed and his hair was all over the place as if he’d been running his hand through it again, like he usually did when he was nervous. James did that too, but for the opposite reason; he seemed to be under the impression that girls liked when boys messed up their hair because it looked more “rugged” and “handsome” (his direct words). As Remus looked at Sirius he thought that perhaps James had a point, but then quickly ignored the thought.

“I was just wondering where you were,” Sirius continued.

“I was just talking to my dad.” Sirius sat down next to him.

“How come?” Remus found that he didn’t really mind telling him as much as he thought he would. He almost wanted to tell him.

“My mum’s ill. I’m just getting updates.”

“She is? I’m so sorry. Is she…? Is she going to be okay?”

“I expect so. She’s coming back from hospital in a few days. But, she’s gonna need check ups and stuff, so… I’m not sure if she’ll ever be fully better.” He lowered his head, suddenly realising the enormity of the situation. Would his mum ever be the same as she had been? It didn’t seem likely. For the rest of her life she might be ill, going in and out of hospital. Remus hadn’t even thought about the future, and he soon changed his mind about Divination. Knowing wasn’t so good after all.

Sirius put an arm around him, noticing the crack in his voice that indicated he was trying not to cry.

“I don’t know what to say except I’m sorry. That’s sad.” Remus nodded.

“It is sad.” And it was. There wasn’t much else to say about the matter except that it was sad. Sirius took one half of the blanket and wrapped it around his own shoulders. They sat there in silence for a bit, which Remus liked. He wasn’t quite ready to go back to the dorm room, which he assumed would still be fairly rowdy. He liked the quiet, with Sirius right next to him. So close to him. Their knees were touching, and Sirius’s hair was resting over both of their shoulders.

“Hey, um…” Remus began. Sirius looked at him. “Don’t listen to your parents, by the way.” He said it quietly, awkwardly. But he meant it nonetheless.

“I don’t.”

“I know but… calling you a girl and all just cos of your hair. They… they’re arseholes.

“They are, but to be honest I didn’t really care. I like my hair.”

“It looks pretty.” Sirius cocked his head to the side like a dog, and Remus quickly regretted what he said. “I didn’t mean pretty, I meant like… it looks fine, you look… It's fine.” He fell silent, staring at his hands and feeling himself start to blush.

“No one’s ever called me pretty before,” Sirius eventually said.

“Er… really?” He shook his head.

“No. It’s.. quite nice actually.”

“Oh. Well, then. Um… you look pretty.”

“Thanks.”

The fire finally died away completely and the two picked up the blanket and left for the dorm room. It was surprisingly quiet when they returned, with everyone fast asleep. Remus checked the time. It was only nine o’clock. But it had been a long day. He was soon fast asleep himself, the image of Sirius in his mind's eye for a brief moment before he fell into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

Care of Magical Creatures wasn’t until next week, but Remus at least had Ancient Runes to look forward to on the following day. He had been reading the textbook for quite a while beforehand, so he already had a basic grasp of some translation. The numbers were easy, because numbers were usually represented in an image by something, such as a single unicorn horn representing one, or the five legs of a crab-looking creature naturally representing five. He struggled to remember all of the names though, and kept calling five Quintapeed when it was actually Quintaped.

The first lesson happened to be about numerology, so Remus didn’t have to concentrate too much. The teacher gave them simple calculations to do using the numbers and Remus breezed through it. He knew he shouldn’t relax too much; he was essentially learning a new language. Translating the old language of witches and wizards, and if he knew anything about learning languages (of which he didn’t know that much actually, because he couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been bilingual, and for the rest of his life he’d never had the chance to even try and learn another language), he knew that it started out simple but got harder and harder as time went on. He knew the days would come where he’d throw his books away in frustration, but for now, he was content in knowing how to count to ten in ancient runology.

Remus was updated on his mother’s condition every night by his father, and when Hope was finally discharged from the hospital, Remus would talk with her for almost an hour each night. He’d give her the entire blow-by-blow of his school day, leaving out no detail no matter how boring. He would only stop when his mum insisted that it was late and he needed to go to sleep. Remus would reluctantly say goodbye, and sit there in the dark and silence until he almost fell asleep on the common room floor.

He didn’t want to admit to himself how scared he was. He didn’t want to admit that he talked to her for so long each day because a part of him was always worried it’d be the last time they spoke. He didn’t want to admit that he put off going to sleep every night because he could never shake the memory of being woken up in the middle of the night to find out his mum was in hospital.

If it was up to him, he’d sleep right there on the carpet in front of the fireplace, where his mum was only a quick call away. But Sirius wouldn’t let him.

“Come on,” he’d say, holding out a hand for Remus to take. Sirius had sat up with him almost every night now, and the only nights he didn’t was when Remus felt too guilty about making Sirius as exhausted as he was, and was adamant that Sirius should go back to bed. But it wasn’t long before he wanted Sirius by his side again. The boy would listen patiently to Remus’s ramblings about his day to his mother, no doubt incredibly bored by the retelling of events that he’d been present at, but he never said anything. He’d always greet Remus’s parents politely, and would chat to Hope if she asked him any questions– which she usually did– and the two ended up building up quite a good rapport with one another, which Remus was glad about; he’d wanted his mum to meet Sirius for a while, but he was worried that she still might think Sirius was like his family, and would therefore disapprove of him. But this wasn’t the case, especially when Hope asked what Sirius was studying and he replied with muggle studies. Sirius couldn’t help himself afterwards from asking Hope a hoard of questions about his homework, which she seemed happy to answer. Remus, on the other hand, wasn’t… entirely okay with it.

“If you need help with your homework, you can just ask me,” he said after his mum had said goodbye.

“I know, but… well, you already have enough of your own homework and since she was here, I thought–”

“But I’m talking to her. She is my mum after all.” The exhaustion was finally getting to him, and Remus found himself angry about things he hadn’t ordinarily been angry about.

“Yeah, but–”

“I’m going to bed,” he huffed, leaving Sirius on his own. By morning, Remus was kicking himself, and he apologised as soon as possible.

“I’m sorry,” he said before breakfast. “I was bang out of order. I’m glad you and mam are getting along and you can talk to her as much as you want.”

“Thanks,” replied Sirius. “But I think I’ll leave the muggle studies questions for you to answer instead.” The matter was resolved, and Remus soon moved on from it. Sirius seemed a little quieter afterwards, but not in a way that made anyone concerned. He just went into his head sometimes, which James did all the time, as did Remus for that matter, so no one thought anything of it.

Remus started focusing on Quidditch commentating, because Dave Cohen had left and the Quidditch try-outs were starting soon. A few players on the Gryffindor team were either leaving or had quit for exam season, so there were still positions open. Unfortunately for Owain, both of the beaters were still there, so he didn’t have an opportunity to try out this year. James was just happy that he didn’t have to try out at all.

Remus didn’t know who he had to talk to about the position of the commentator; it wasn’t up to the Gryffindor captain because the commentary wasn’t for one particular team. He either had to talk to Madam Hooch or Professor McGonagall, and since McGonagall was still a little intimidating to him, he opted for Madam Hooch.

“Trying out for commentator is a little unconventional,” explained Madam Hooch when Remus went up to her on the Quidditch pitch. She was packing away the school broomsticks. “I usually just elect someone I think would be good for it, but you’re welcome to commentate one of the practice sessions if you want, and I’ll decide if you’d be good for the position.”

“Really?”

“Yes, but you’ll be up against Trevor Blake, a fifth year Hufflepuff. I was already planning on making him the commentator.” Remus deflated.

“Oh.”

“Cheer up, it’s not a big deal. It’s only a bit of fun.”

“I know, but if you’re going to give it to him then there’s no point in me trying out.”

“Nonsense, you don’t get anywhere in life if you don’t try. Come by for practice tomorrow and we’ll see what you can do, yeah?” Remus nodded, but he was nervous now, more nervous than he had been. He didn’t want to steal a position from someone, and… if he was honest, he hadn’t been planning on speaking out loud in front of people so soon. He didn’t know if he was ready yet, and the last thing he wanted to do was mess it up.

“Would it help if we were all there supporting you?” Asked James when Remus told them what Madam Hooch had said. “I mean, I’ll be there anyway practising, but Sirius and the others can come too.”

“Er… I don’t know actually. On the one hand, I’d like everyone to be there so I’m not speaking in front of people I don’t really know, but on the other hand I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of you all.”

“You won’t, you’ll be fine. And even if you’re not, none of us are gonna laugh.” Remus trusted them not to laugh outwardly, but how was he to know they weren’t laughing secretly? But the thought of being among no one but teachers and much older students convinced him that his friends coming along too was a better option.

The practice session was after lunch, with the Gryffindor team taking up the pitch to work on their tactics. It wasn’t much like a proper game, there was only one team for starters, but there was still enough going on for commentary. Trevor Blake went first, which did nothing for Remus’s nerves, because the boy was very good. His voice was loud, confident and his eyesight was clearly very sharp because he accurately documented each move. He was also older, which usually always gave someone an advantage. When it was Remus’s term, he could barely breathe properly. It was nerve-wracking enough, trying to beat Blake, but he really didn’t like speaking out loud; a vital flaw for a commentator. As soon as he stepped up to the microphone attached to the observation deck where the teachers sat, Remus all but completely froze. The players were moving, passing the Quaffle to one another in quick succession, but Remus wasn’t saying a word.

“Come on, Lupin, you can do it,” muttered Madam Hooch beside him. He cleared his throat and stammered out an opening sentence.

“Um... Jones passes to McKinnon who... makes the throw to... no, to the goalposts. Misses the goal, but the Quaffle is... caught by Potter...” He wasn’t speaking loud enough, and he knew he was commentating terribly, which only made him panic more. The entire time he was fighting the urge to go silent and sit back down, and this only made his voice less and less confident-sounding. He was mentioning plays and throws that had already happened two moves ago, lagging behind everyone else by a number of precious seconds. He couldn’t do this, of course he couldn’t do this. The last time he’d commentated out loud was to himself in the bathroom mirror, and when he realised his parents could hear he had shut up immediately. How was he supposed to do this in front of the entire school? He could barely do it in front of his friends.

He looked at them, waiting to see the expressions of ridicule on their faces, but to his surprise they looked as enthusiastic as always. They were still cheering him on, Sirius on his feet and giving him a thumbs up when he caught Remus’s eye. Remus tried desperately to focus on no one else but Sirius. Pretending there was only one person in the crowd watching him, someone who he really wanted to impress. He took a deep breath.

“And Potter makes the throw to McKinnon,” he began, instantly louder than before. “What a shot! And a perfect catch from McKinnon, as she zooms towards the goalposts, can she score? YES SHE CAN!” The small crowd of students cheered at the goal, as did Remus. Marlene bowed to the audience.

“Potter now in control of the Quaffle, he passes it to Jones who— bollocks! Drops it...”

“Mr Lupin, please refrain from swearing,” said Madam Hooch beside him.

“Sorry, miss,” he replied, not really meaning it. He could see Sirius laughing from the other side of the pitch. “Jones heads for the Quaffle and catches it just in time, and what’s this? She’s making the shot from all the way down there? She can’t be, surely—” Hestia Jones threw the Quaffle as hard as she could and the ball flew a few feet up in the air, before narrowly passing through one of the goals. “And bloody hell, she scores! An amazing shot from Gryffindor Captain, Jones.” The small crowd cheered at the second goal. Everyone was getting as invested into the practice as they would a normal game, and even Remus had partially forgotten that anyone else even existed around him. All he saw was the game in front of him, and he just said what he saw as if he was muttering under his breath in the stands.

Madam Hooch blew the whistle to signal the end of practice. The scores hadn’t been kept up, but it didn’t matter. Remus stepped down from the microphone and walked over to Madam Hooch.

“How did I do?”

“Not bad, Lupin. Bit faltering at the beginning, but you managed to ride it out. Maybe cut down on the swearing.”

“I will.” She started making her way down the wooden staircase towards the pitch, not giving away any answers to the eager third year bobbing along behind her. “So... can I be the commentator then?”

“You were good, but I’m afraid Trevor Blake may be more up to it.” Remus was affronted.

“That’s not fair, I did it fine. I froze a bit at the beginning, but I was alright.”

“Well if you froze in front of a small group of people then what are you going to be like in front of hundreds of students and teachers?”

“I’ll be fine, I’ll practice. Please let me do it.” He stood in front of her so she was forced to stop walking and look at him. She sighed at his wide-eyed expectancy.

“Tell you what, you can be the... reserve commentator,” she conceded. “If Trevor can’t do it during a match, or if he decides to quit outright, then you can take over. Alright?” Remus thought about it, and nodded in satisfaction.

“Alright.”

“Good.” She stepped around him and marched off towards the middle of the pitch where the players were gathered. Remus rushed off to the other side of the pitch instead, where his friends were stepping down from the stands.

“Did you hear me?” Asked Remus excitedly when he reached them.

“Yes we heard you,” replied Lily. “It would be a bit awkward if we hadn’t heard you.”

“Yeah, but how did I do?”

“You did great!” Said Sirius. “Did Madam Hooch tell you off for saying bollocks?”

“Yep!” He replied proudly.

“So did you get it then?” asked Owain. “Are you the commentator?”

“I’m the reserve commentator. Trevor Blake still got it, but I’m allowed to take over if he can’t do it.”

“Brilliant! So we’ll actually get to hear you commentate!”

“Hopefully.” Remus walked back to the school with his friends, James running up behind them a few minutes later and congratulating Remus on his try-out.

“There’s going to be a party tonight in Gryffindor,” he informed afterwards, as they neared the moving staircases.

“Bit early in the year, isn’t it?” Said Owain. “What for?”

“I dunno, I think it’s some older kid’s birthday. Hestia Jones mentioned it, so they’re probably a sixth year.”

“I’m not in the mood for that,” said Remus. “I think I’ll just head to bed early.” Sirius snorted.

“Alright, grandad. I ‘spect you’ll be wanting a nice cup of tea as well.”

“Bugger off, I’ve got homework to catch up with.”

“I’ll think I’ll stay in the dorm too,” continued Owain. “The older Gryffindors are far too noisy.” 

By the time the evening rolled around, not a lot of the third years were present during the party. The older kids were still intimidating, even if they had been there for three years now. They were barely twelve or thirteen, so in the eyes of everyone else, they were basically invisible.

Sirius stuck around, however. He never missed a party, and they lost sight of him pretty quickly. Remus left James in charge of him, although neither of them were exactly the poster boy for responsibility, but he didn’t think there was much to worry about. It was just a party after all. How much trouble could Sirius get himself into?

He didn’t answer that.

Remus walked up the staircase to the boys’ dorm and sat on his bed with an old book he’d never got round to reading. He desperately needed to do his homework, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his books and start writing. Reading a fictional book was so much easier, and he was almost asleep after about an hour of long, descriptive paragraphs of drizzly, foggy moors. He never said the book was interesting, which is why it had taken him a year just to pick it up.

As he was reading, he heard chattering voices coming from the far side of the room, where Jethro, Owain and Peter’s beds were. The three occupants were sitting there playing cards and talking, and Remus was tempted to join them. Once the book had finally succeeded in shutting his brain off he put it down and took his chances. He hadn’t yet been in such close quarters with Peter, because at least in the train carriage the two had been drowned out by the voices of everyone else. Here, it was only Owain and Jethro that sat between them, and they weren’t very loud.

“Hi,” greeted Remus. “Mind if I join?”

“You can, but we’re running out of card games to play,” replied Jethro.

“Know any muggle ones? I can teach you how to play blackjack.” Jethro handed him the pack of cards. They were a wizarding set, with different magical creatures and intricate drawings of warlocks instead of the muggle playing cards of queens and kings. But they still had numbers on them, so they were still able to play a form of blackjack where they all tried to get as close to twenty-one as possible. It had been a while since Remus had played with his grandfather, who had taught him the rules once on a particularly rainy day on the farm, so he had probably forgotten a few rules here and there, but it was still fun. It was just a maths game really, but since they were under the impression of playing a very grown-up card game indeed, the mathematical element did nothing to spoil it.

“How can nineteen be closer to twenty one than twenty three?” Said Peter. “They’re both two away.”

“It’s better to get under twenty one than over it.”

“That’s ridiculous, you’re just making rules up.”

“What do you suggest we do then?” Asked Remus, mostly sarcastically.

“I don’t know, it’s a tie.”

“Alright, fine. We’ll call it a tie.” Peter raised his head in triumph and Remus rolled his eyes. It was only a friendly argument, and truth was, Remus had no evidence for the under-twenty one rule, so he quickly dropped it.

The conversation soon moved away from the game, as the thumping music from downstairs and unintelligible, muffled voices created a weirdly relaxing atmosphere in the dimly-lit dorm room. Owain was leaning back against his bed, eyes half-closed.

“I think I might grow my hair out,” he said, out of the blue. The others didn’t pay much attention.

“Really?” Replied Jethro, busy studying his playing cards.

“Yeah. Like Sirius did. I wish my hair looked like that.” Peter laughed.

“Who cares about what your hair looks like? We’re not girls.” Remus gave a small glance over at him.

“I dunno,” continued Owain. “It’d be pretty lush to have long hair, I think.”

“I think your hair’s too curly,” said Remus. “It’d be a nightmare to care for if it was long.”

“Whatever. I’ll still think about it.” They returned to their game, without speaking much. It was nice to just sit there, barely awake and slightly ruining the game because none of them were adding up properly anymore.

“That’s not 17, idiot,” said Jethro. “Five and ten do not make seventeen.”

“Fine, but fifteen still beats Peter.”

“Does it?... oh yeah.”

The door of the dorm room suddenly opened, and the music became less muffled, a sharp invasion of noise that shook the boys out of their laid-back reverie. They turned to see who had entered, and to their surprise, they saw James struggling to carry Sirius on his shoulder. Remus and Peter stood up at once, the other two following behind.

“What happened?” Asked Remus, taking a closer look at Sirius. Either the boy was very tired or very something else, because either way he was barely conscious. Judging by James’s face, Remus didn’t think Sirius was just sleeping.

“I think he’s drunk,” informed James, leading Sirius to the nearest bed and plonking him down.

“You what?” Said Peter. “What do you mean he’s drunk?”

“I mean... well, he’s drunk! How else can I mean it?” Remus looked at Sirius in concern. He was sleeping, passed out at least, and he looked a bit of a mess.

“How did he get drunk? Didn’t you stop him?”

“I’m not his babysitter, I was with Lily. He just disappeared and then came back like this. I don’t know what happened, he must have drunk whatever the older kids were drinking.”

“Clearly too much of it.”

“Do we just leave him?” Asked James, just as worried as everyone else, but equally as out of his depth. None of them had dealt with a drunk person before, and none of them had ever gotten drunk before, so this was all new. Remus tried to sift through any knowledge he had that would be useful. He’d read books where a character had passed out from drinking before. What had happened after that? Nothing really, they just woke up the next day with a hangover. Sometimes they threw up.

“He can’t lie on his back,” Remus pointed out. “If he pukes he’ll choke.” He went over to Sirius and tried to gently roll him onto his side. James came over to help and they tried to get him comfortable, with the covers over him and a pillow under his head.

“I think that’s all we can do. He should wake up by tomorrow.”

“I think he has to drink water too,” said Peter. “But I don’t think that’s gonna happen.” Sirius definitely didn’t seem to be in a position where he could even lift a cup, let alone drink the water inside.

“I’ll get him a glass anyway,” said Jethro from behind them. Him and Owain had been looking on with faint bewilderment, and were struggling to find a way to help.

“I think,” began James. “We should all just go to bed. It’s late anyway.” They all agreed. Owain went to tidy up the cards, and the others got ready for bed, all of them glancing over at Sirius every few minutes to make sure he was still alive. Jethro returned with a glass of water and put it on Sirius’s bedside table. The lights went out at nine thirty, which was far earlier than they usually did.

Remus couldn’t sleep. All he could think about was Sirius, and while some of his thoughts were on why Sirius had got drunk in the first place, most of them were preoccupied with the immediate situation at hand. He was certainly no expert, but the words “alcohol poisoning” kept flashing through his mind and he simply couldn’t focus on anything else. He couldn’t go to sleep when his friend might be ill. He couldn’t risk being woken up in the middle of the night to news that something had happened. Not again.

He slipped out of bed and tiptoed to Sirius’s bedside. The boy was still sleeping, breathing deeply and knocked out cold. Remus sat on the floor next to the bed, and read his book silently in the light of the moon streaming through the nearest window.

He fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, without leaving Sirius’s side.

Chapter Text

Sirius was a wreck the following day, and was really in no fit state to participate in any lessons. He couldn’t remember much of what happened last night, so any questions demanded at him by his friends went mostly unanswered. What did you drink? Why did you drink so much? Where did you even get the alcohol from? Don’t know, don’t know, don’t know. All he knew was that he was ridiculously thirsty and had a terrible headache.

“Just leave me here,” he grumbled into his pillow. “If I stand up I’ll die.” James threw a pillow at the back of his head.

“Lazy bugger, we’ll have to tell the teachers you’re ill.” The teachers accepted the excuse, although if they knew what sort of illness it was they would probably be much less approving. Remus, James and Peter checked up on Sirius throughout the day, and by the end of the evening– with Sirius still in bed– it really did seem to become more of a case of laziness than a hangover.

“Hope you’re enjoying your day off,” remarked James. “You have heaps of homework.” Sirius groaned.

“Fuck oooooff.” They left him in relative peace, although Remus quietly tried to talk to him a bit more.

“You sure you’re alright?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. The headache’s nearly gone.”

“I don’t mean physically. I mean… I don’t know. You didn’t just get drunk for no reason, and you’ve barely moved all day. Are you sure everything’s okay?” Sirius lifted his head up long enough to gaze at Remus, long enough to look like he was about to say something. But he lowered his head.

“I’m fine.”

The first trip to Hogsmeade was upon them, and the third years were simmering with excitement. They’d all been desperate to explore Hogsmeade ever since they’d arrived and finally they were allowed to go. Even Sirius had his signed permission form, and it seemed to be the only thing keeping him cheerful. Remus hoped it would last. He didn’t like seeing his friend so solemn all the time, even if Sirius did try to hide it. The whole getting drunk scenario may have been more of a cry for help than they realised, but Sirius was trying to move on from it by pretending it never happened. For fear of setting him off, the others played along. Remus didn’t know if that was wise or not.

On the day of the visit, after handing their permission slips to McGonagall, the third years headed to Hogsmeade as one– very loud– group, but soon started to split up as they got nearer to the village, and different interests were piqued. Lily stuck with the boys for once, along with Marlene, but they soon separated with Owain. Most of the students’ first destination was of course the sweet shop.

“Brilliant,” breathed James, staring at the brightly-coloured selection in awe. “I’ve never seen so many sweets I haven’t seen before.”

“That makes no sense,” replied Sirius. “Of course you haven’t seen sweets you’ve never seen before.” James paused to think.

“Well, then that means it does make sense.” Sirius just rolled his eyes and picked up a handful of fizzing whizbees. Remus bought a licorice wand to suck on, until he spotted a sugar quill and the licorice wand hung out of his mouth, forgotten while he purchased the very realistic looking sweet. He joined James and Peter by the counter.

“Where’s Sirius?” he asked in greeting. James didn’t reply right away, because he was laughing at Remus.

“Are you sucking on a sugar quill and a licorice wand at the same time?”

“Yeah, and?” He laughed again.

“You looked daft.”

“On the contrary, I’ve discovered a brand new flavour. Sugar licorice.”

“Licorice is sugar.”

“And it tastes awful,” continued Peter. “You’re mad for liking it.” Remus took no notice, and took the wand and the quill out of his mouth so he could wrap one around the other to create a sort of… sausage roll. With licorice as the bread and the quill as the sausage. It was ridiculously sickly, and he was probably the only person who could stand the taste.

“So where is Sirius anyway?”

“I’m not sure,” said James. “He was here a moment ago, then he went to buy a lollipop and I haven’t seen him since. We should probably catch up with him, actually.”

“Yeah the last thing we need is to lose Sirius in a village we don’t know.” James followed Remus out of the shop, dragging a reluctant Peter away from the counter, who only just managed to grab his packets of chocolate frogs from the shopkeeper before he was pulled out of the shop.

“Where do you think he’d go?” Asked James. Remus shrugged. He didn’t know the village nearly well enough to figure out where Sirius might have gone.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” said Peter. “He’ll just catch up with us later.”

“I dunno… he’s starting to worry me a bit. Last time I left him on his own he got stupidly drunk.” They were walking up the main street, peering into shop windows for a glimpse of their friend. Remus began chewing on his licorice wand amalgamation. Chewing offered far more stimulation, especially when he was worried.

Maybe Peter was right, though. So Sirius had gotten a bit drunk once, probably accidentally. Didn’t everyone? They were his friends, not his carers. He could look after himself in a small village filled with adults and students alike.

“Oi, Owain! McKinnon!” called James. “Haven’t seen Sirius have yous?” Owain was leaving one of the many tea houses with Marlene. Marlene shook her head in reply but Owain pointed to the right of him.

“Saw him headed to the end of the street.”

“Cheers.” James, Remus and Peter continued on their way towards the end where the buildings began to recede and space out more. They were nearer to an edge of the forest, one which opened on to the wide, sparse landscape. You could see the Shrieking Shack from here.

Sirius was there, sitting on the fence, swinging his legs lightly and sucking on a lollipop.

“Sirius!” Sirius turned at James’s call and raised a hand in greeting. They approached him and immediately clambered onto the fence next to him. “What you doing here?” Sirius shrugged vaguely.

“It was a bit loud, in the village.”

“Since when do you care about that?” said Remus. “You’re usually the noisiest one in the room except James.” James shoved him lightly.

“I dunno,” continued Sirius. “It’s nice here, that’s all. You can see everything.”

“I know, but this is our first time in Hogsmeade. Don’t you want to explore?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Sirius continued gazing out into the distance, eyes fixed on the Shrieking Shack and making no apparent indication of moving. Then he shifted himself off the fence and started walking back towards the village without even waiting for the others to catch up. Remus, James and Peter glanced between one another.

“Maybe you’re right to be worried,” remarked Peter. They returned to the village with Sirius a little way ahead of them. He stopped off in the nearest café so they joined him for a hot chocolate. Remus didn’t order anything, he was still chewing the last of the licorice sugar quill and was pretty certain he wouldn’t feel like eating anything else for the rest of the day now. He’d probably also end up bouncing off the walls before the inevitable sugar crash later in the evening, but that was future Remus’s problem.

The Carrow twins walked in a few minutes later and found a seat fairly near them. The four boys ignored them completely; they had no reason to acknowledge their presence. But Remus glanced over at one point and caught one of the twin’s eyes. Amycus. He didn’t look away immediately, and when he did he and his sister laughed behind their hands at something. Remus didn’t know what, but it made him uncomfortable. It didn’t take much guessing to figure out the subject of their laughter. James noticed it as well.

“Not still giving you grief, are they?” He asked. Remus shook his head.

“Barely seen them. They give me dirty looks though if I ever run into them in the hallways.”

“Just ignore them. Dickheads.” Sirius was staring at them, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he picked up a napkin, scrunched it up into a ball and threw it as hard as he could at the Carrows’ heads. The other boys turned to him, horrified. He just lay back against the wall, his shoes on the velvet red seat in front of him. He smiled smugly at his friends, relaxed as ever and refocused on the Carrows, who were now heading over to them, clearly furious.

“What did you do that for?” Remus whispered to him urgently and furiously. Sirius shrugged.

“Felt like it.”

“For fuck’s sake, Sirius–” but he didn’t have time to finish before the Carrows reached them.

“Did you just throw this at us?” Asked Amycus, to none of them in particular. None of them said anything. They would never grass on the other, no matter how stupid one of them had acted. But they didn’t have to hide anyway; Sirius wasn’t scared.

“Yeah, I did. Good shot too, wasn’t it?”

“You trying to start trouble, Black? Because you’re definitely asking for it.”

“Oh bugger off, your threats are pathetic. If you were a real man we’d already be duelling.” Remus was internally screaming at him to shut up, and he was certain James and Peter were thinking along the same lines. Amycus went red in the face, but Alecto laughed.

“As if you could duel us,” she said.

“I already have, haven’t I? Multiple times. Face it, your magic’s no better than ours and we can beat your arse.”

“You’re on thin ice, traitor.” Amycus looked directly at Remus and smirked, then turned back to Sirius. “Better hope your magic’s strong enough to protect your filthy mudblood boyfriend.” Sirius’s relaxed composure disappeared instantly, and he jumped up with his wand raised. Amycus smiled at the reaction he was hoping for, and watched as Remus and James tried to force Sirius to sit down again.

“Just leave it, Sirius,” said Remus through gritted teeth.

“Listen to your little friend, Sirius,” crooned Alecto. “He can protect himself, can’t he?” She pinched Remus’s cheek, like a grandma would do to a child, and he swatted her away instinctually. She just giggled. “Feisty.”

Sirius finally sat back down and put his wand back in his pocket. The Carrows deemed the group sufficiently riled up and left it at that. They weren’t brave enough to cause a scene in front of the coffee lady behind the till. They left the café with the tinkle of an invisible bell. The remaining four all glared after the two of them.

“Bastards,” muttered Sirius under his breath. James confronted him with a disbelieving look on his face.

“That was entirely your fault, you idiot.”

“I was just having some fun, not my fault they’ve got sticks so far up their arses they’re poking out of their heads.”

“You knew if you did that they’d come over here and act like twats, so why the hell did you?”

“They were laughing. It pissed me off. Sorry.” He didn’t seem very sorry. Remus was getting far more pissed off with him than Sirius was at the Carrows. Walking back from the village, Remus barely spoke to him. If Sirius noticed, he didn’t say anything, and the group fell into a subdued step beside each other.

To Remus’s surprise, Sirius still showed up next to him at 7pm to wait for Hope in the fireplace. He sat down wordlessly, didn’t even glance at Remus. It was a habit now, he supposed, one that wasn’t going to be broken any time soon. Remus looked at him sideways in the orange glow of the fire and didn’t protest to him being there. While he was annoyed at him for earlier, he didn’t feel annoyed at this Sirius. And something was causing him to separate the normal Sirius to the one who sat next to him every night to hear the updates and provide moral support. Because the two were different. Sirius, at least nowadays, didn’t seem to care much about anything. He did what he felt like and wasn’t hassled with the consequences, no matter who they affected. Sometimes it was fun to be around, exhilarating in a way when detention was always around the corner, but when the consequences crossed over into danger it wasn’t very fun anymore, and Remus felt himself losing his grip on his friend. But then the evening provided a temporary lifeline, where Sirius returned to a part of himself that Remus hadn’t seen for months. Present, caring and quietly supportive. Whatever had happened during the holidays to cause Sirius to lose this part of himself, Remus didn’t know, but he wasn’t ready to deem his friend as a lost cause. He didn’t think he’d ever be ready to do that. As long as Sirius was sitting next to him in the firelight, their grip on each other stayed as strong as ever, and he could deal with the days where Sirius floated around in his own ungovernable world.

“Regulus told my mum who I hang out with at school,” Sirius said suddenly after Hope had waved goodbye and the dying flames illuminated his dark eyes. “Muggleborns and half-bloods and traitors. She wasn’t happy. Nor was dad.”

“What did they do?” Sirius didn’t reply.

“I’m sorry about provoking the Carrows. I guess I’m… I don’t know.” Remus didn’t say anything, but he continued looking at Sirius, silently prompting him to continue. This was the most he’d spoken for a while, and Remus wasn’t about to let an explanation slip through his fingers to what was bothering his friend.

“It’s kind of hard to be engaged with anything,” Sirius continued. “I can’t explain why, everything’s just a mess right now.”

“I get that.”

“I know. That’s why I know I can tell you. Do you ever feel like that?”

“Like what?”

“That everything seems to be going wrong, so it’s hard to enjoy anything.”

“Yeah. Yeah I have.”

“And what do you do?” Remus thought about it, and realised that he would most likely just ignore it. He’d suppress any negative feelings down and pretend he was fine. It was only a temporary fix though, the consequences of which usually ended up manifesting at night in the dark or a swift burst of anger that he wasn’t able to control. But Remus didn’t think that would be very good advice.

“I… talk?” Sirius finally looked at him.

“You never talk.”

“Well… I should talk. It would probably help.”

“That’s not what I asked. I asked what you do.” Remus sighed.

“I suppress it.” Sirius nodded in acknowledgment, as if he was hoping for that answer.

“So do I,” he concluded.

There didn’t seem to be much of a point to the conversation, that Remus could see anyway. But Sirius seemed satisfied with it, so perhaps it had helped in a way that Remus couldn’t pick up on. The fireplace was still warm, so they stayed where they were for a bit. Remus was lost in thought, and hardly blinked at the crackling sparks flying up from the coals. It took him some time to realise that Sirius had fallen asleep, and only noticed when Sirius’s shoulder fell onto his. He let it stay there, and didn’t think much of it.

Sirius shifted his weight, still fast asleep and laid against Remus’s knees, which were pulled up to Remus’s chest. Remus pulled his gaze away from the fire and settled instead on the top of Sirius’s head. His long hair was falling over his shoulders and it looked so soft. Remus wasn’t really thinking, he wasn’t really thinking of anything. In the next minute, he acted purely on instinct, on an urge he suddenly had and couldn’t shake.

Remus reached his hand out and gently stroked Sirius’s hair. He was right, it was very soft. Long and pretty and…

He tore his hand away, thoughts flooding through the temporary barrier in his mind and he shook himself out of whatever trance he’d been in. It must have been the fire, he told himself, that was all. He had been so deep in thought about something he just hadn’t noticed what he was doing.

That was a lie. He knew with such unwilling certainty that it was a lie. He had been deep in thought about something, one thing only, and it was Sirius. He noticed exactly what he was doing and he wanted to. He wanted to keep doing it and hold Sirius in his arms, because the boy looked so peaceful when he was sleeping and Remus had an overwhelming surge of affection towards him.

They were just friends. Remus had never had a friend before Hogwarts, so he didn’t really know how you were supposed to feel about a friend. This was normal, it must have been, because the alternative was something he didn’t want to think about.

Except, James was his best friend too and Peter… had been his best friend. But Remus hadn’t felt the same towards them as he did right now to Sirius. What did he feel right now about Sirius? Actually, he didn’t really know. It didn’t make sense since only about an hour ago he’d been so angry at him.

He didn’t feel angry now, that was for sure. In fact, that was probably the only thing he could be certain about.

Sirius stirred slightly, and Remus fixated on the fireplace, pretending as if he hadn’t noticed a thing. Sirius raised his head, realised what he had been lying against and pulled away.

“Shit, sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s okay,” Remus replied. “I barely noticed.” Only one of those statements was true.

As it turned out, most of Remus’s classmates had chosen Care of Magical Creatures as a second academic option, and the group of third year students made their way down near the forbidden forest to where Professor Kettleburn was standing waiting for them. Remus didn’t know much about Professor Kettleburn, except rumours from older students that he barely had any of his original limbs left and regularly set fire to things accidentally, including and not limited to the Great Hall. As Remus approached the man, he did get the impression that he was at least a bit eccentric.

Professor Kettleburn had a permanently singed beard, one of those beards that looked like two triangles stuck together, except the middle bit hadn’t so much been shaved away deliberately as burned away accidentally. He had his robes stuffed into his trousers and his wand behind his ear.

“Good morning, students!” he greeted cheerily enough. The students returned his sentiment in a less cheerful manner due to the early hour of the morning. They gathered around him, looking around for signs of any creatures.

“Welcome to your first Care of Magical Creatures lesson. I’m Professor Kettleburn, and I’ll be teaching you all about the exciting world of magizoology.” Remus listened intently. He didn’t consider himself much of a magizoologist, but he was certainly interested in magical creatures. He sort of had to be, in a way.

“Now, your first lesson is going to be a bit advanced. Ordinarily, you’d be learning about these creatures in fourth year, but I think they’re a good introduction to the subject instead.

Today, we’ll be studying bowtruckles. Anyone know what a bowtruckle is?” A few students raised their hands. Remus was one of them, but Professor Kettleburn picked on Lily instead, who was standing beside Remus, standing on her tiptoes so her hand would be higher than everyone else’s.

“They’re tree creatures. Very shy, but very protective of their homes.” Professor Kettleburn smiled at her.

“Very good, miss…?”

“Evans, sir.”

“Miss Evans. Five points to Gryffindor.” Professor Kettleburn briefly disappeared into the forest and the students waited in silence for a few minutes, watching the bushes rustle in his wake.

“I didn’t know you knew about care of magical creatures,” Remus whispered to Lily.

“I read the textbook when I got bored,” she whispered back. “It’s actually very interesting.” The trees in front of them began to rustle again, and Professor Kettleburn emerged from the shadows, cupping something in his hand. The students immediately came forward to try and catch a glimpse of the bowtruckle, but Professor Kettleburn held up his free hand to tell them to stop.

“As Miss Evans said, these creatures are tremendously shy,” he warned, “and the last thing you want to do is make them feel threatened. Or else they’ll claw your eyes out.” The students backtracked at that. Remus looked at Lily for confirmation and she nodded her head grimly.

Once the students had backed off enough, Professor Kettleburn properly opened his hand up to reveal a twig-like creature munching the head off a woodlouse.

“As long as they’re placated with woodlice and such, they’ll stay fairly content and still for a while. Which gives you enough time to sketch them and label their most important parts.” A murmur of excitement went through the group. All they had to do was draw a picture, that was easy!

Until it became apparent that Professor Kettleburn was actually very picky when it came to labelling. If you didn’t manage to name every part of the Bowtruckle then he wouldn’t let you finish, but he wouldn’t give you any of the names either. You were forced to go searching for every part in the textbook, and if a word wasn’t mentioned you’d end up despairing at the thought of never being dismissed by the end of the lesson. Students were gathering around other students who happened to know about Bowtruckles for answers. Remus was one of them, but on his way back his gaze landed upon Peter’s sketch. The boy was far more engrossed in the drawing than the labelling. In fact, he hadn’t actually labelled anything at all. He’d spent half the lesson just shading in his drawing. It looked fantastic, but he was very much at risk of failing if he didn’t speed up a little.

Remus sat down beside him.

“It’s not an art project, you know.” Peter looked up, vaguely dazed as if he had momentarily forgotten the existence of his surroundings.

“I know… I got a bit carried away.”

“It’s really good, but if it’s not labelled Professor Kettleburn will never let you leave.” Peter looked anxiously down at his sketch.

“How much time do I have left?”

“About five minutes.”

“Bugger…” Remus placed his own sketch down next to Peter’s. It was nowhere near as good. It wasn’t bad, but his lines were all over the place and he hadn’t even attempted to draw a face. He certainly hadn’t shaded anything, but he had labelled everything as neatly as possible.

“You can copy mine,” he said. “Just, don’t be obvious.” Peter smiled gratefully and began copying down the answers. Remus glanced over at Kettleburn and pretended to write on his piece of paper every time he saw the man looking his way. Within five minutes, Peter was finished, and everyone was finally allowed to leave.

By lunchtime it was pouring with rain outside, so everyone was stuck inside their common room, bored out of their minds. They were all sitting around in any available chairs, reading, playing games, or simply just thinking. James had been sitting on the sofa with his head back towards the ceiling and he’d been staring almost unblinkingly at it for about ten minutes straight.

Owain was reading a book, and decided to start up a conversation about it.

“Polyjuice potion is really cool,” he said. “How come we haven’t learnt about it yet?” James raised an eyebrow and finally brought his head back down, rubbing it to relieve the cramped up muscles.

“We learnt about it in last year,” he replied. “Where’ve you been?” Owain knitted his eyebrows together.

“Did we? I don’t remember that. Weird.”

“What’s so interesting about it anyway?” Asked Marlene, who was sitting beside Remus on the floor. The two were rolling marbles towards the fireplace and were racing each other on whose marble could get there first. It wasn’t a very good game because they kept throwing the marbles so hard they’d bounce away and have to be collected up again.

“You can turn into anyone! How isn’t that interesting?”

“I suppose. Depends who you turn into.”

“Who would you turn into, if you had the choice?” Asked Lily from the armchair. “Just for a day.” They all thought about it.

“Ivan Alinsky,” replied James before the rest of them.

“Who?”

“Greatest Quidditch player who ever lived. Played for the Russian team in the 1800s. Chaser. Scored so many goals in one game that his team managed to get up to 150 points before the snitch was even caught.”

“Of course you’d choose a Quidditch player,” sighed Lily. “That’s boring. I’d be… Marilyn Monroe.”

“Oh come on,” said Remus. “That’s obvious.”

“So what? She’s amazing. She’s glamorous and talented and beautiful and I’d love to wear the dresses she wears.”

“Well, I’d be Jon Pertwee,” said Remus.

“Who’s that?” Asked Sirius.

“Plays the Doctor on TV. It’d be so cool to be the Doctor. In fact… Do fictional people count? Because if so I change my answer to the actual Doctor.”

“Well, I’d just be anyone else,” continued Sirius. “I don’t care who. Maybe I’d be a muggle.”

“I’d be an astronaut,” said Jethro. “Not really sure why, I just think it’d be cool. Go to the moon and that like Neil Armstrong. Can I travel back in time too? Then I could be the first man on the moon.”

“I suppose you can, as long as you have a time-turner or something.”

“Okay then, if I had polyjuice potion and a time-turner I’d be Neil Armstrong.”

“What about you, Marlene?” Asked James.

“Hm. Not sure. I like me, it’d be sort of pointless to be someone else.”

“It’s only for a day,” said Owain. “Aren’t you curious?”

“I guess I could be some punk singer. There aren’t really any girl punk singers though.”

“You like punk?” Sirius lit up at that, and Remus did too. He didn't think Marlene was into that, although looking back, it was sort of obvious. She was frequently in trouble, not very well-behaved at all and she already wore black make-up sometimes, either on her nails or around her eyes. Remus had barely noticed it, but he suddenly gained even more of an interest in her.

“Yeah, course. Other music’s boring. But it’s all men.”

“Not all men, what about…” Remus began, but after a few seconds of thought his mind drew a blank. “Oh.”

“I suppose I could turn into Paul Weller or someone, but I don’t wanna be a guy.”

“Why not?” Asked Owain. Marlene looked at him like an idiot.

“Because… I’m not a guy?”

“Yeah, but surely you’d wanna like… try it out for a bit?”

“What you trying to say, mate, that being a boy’s better than being a girl?”

“No! That’s not what I mean, I mean like… say if you were given the option to change your gender, just for a day. You’d go for it, wouldn’t you?” They all looked at him. Remus nodded internally, because if that meant he’d have a boy’s body then not even a nuclear bomb could stop him from taking that option, but he didn’t think now was the time to mention that. The others on the other hand all shook their heads.

“I don’t think so,” said Peter. “I wouldn’t feel the need.”

“None of you would go for it?” Owain looked genuinely surprised.

“I can’t say it’s crossed my mind,” said James. “But I agree with Peter, I wouldn’t see the point.”

“Me neither,” said Lily. “It’d just feel weird.”

“Why?” Asked Jethro at Owain. “Would… you go for it?” Owain didn’t reply right away. He seemed reluctant to, now that he realised the others weren’t on the same page as him. Remus of course, understood exactly how Owain felt in a way, but he couldn’t tell him that and besides, he didn’t know if what he understood was what Owain was actually feeling. A small part of him was studying Owain and that small part of him was trying to grab his attention. It was considering a possibility at the moment and having a slight meltdown over it, but Remus refused to even entertain the idea. He couldn’t help himself from reading into things far more than the others, but he wasn’t about to get his hopes up. There was no way.

“No,” Owain eventually said. “I wouldn’t take the option I just… I was just curious.” He didn’t look any of them in the eye, and instead curled back up into his chair and continued reading. The others soon forgot about it and moved on, returning to their various games and activities before lunch ended.

Remus didn’t forget it though. He kept glancing at Owain, the small part of him struggling to stay quiet. It was a silly idea, of course it was. But… it wasn’t impossible, was it?

Chapter Text

In every group of friends, there always seemed to be someone who went quiet for a while. Not so much in a disconnected way, or a drifting apart sort of way, just in a way that made the others worry because it was usually out of character. And it wasn’t just one person, it was like a cycle. One person was quiet and then eventually cheered up and as soon as they did someone else took the role of subdued and distant. Sirius had been that person until that night by the fireplace, after which he started to cheer up again. Whether it was genuine or not, it was hard to tell, but he certainly didn’t try to pick fights with anyone anymore and he started joining in with his friends almost as enthusiastically as he used to. He must have felt bad about the whole Carrow scenario, so he was attempting to compensate for it. But now it was Owain who kept his distance, and didn’t speak as much as he usually did. The others couldn’t work out what had caused the sudden change, not even Jethro, but Remus was still grappling with the same thought he’d been having ever since the polyjuice potion conversation. Even if he was wrong, he felt like he wanted to talk to Owain. He wasn’t sure what about, or even if it would lead anywhere, but he still felt like perhaps he could understand whatever Owain was going through.

An opportunity soon arose for Remus to speak with him, and it was a situation that Remus hadn’t been expecting at all, because he hadn’t been expecting his instincts to be so correct. Of course, Owain didn’t admit that Remus’s instincts had been correct, but Remus didn’t think he needed to. Whatever the situation, it was clear that Remus really did understand Owain more than he’d thought.

It was fairly late at night, at a time when the common room was empty. Even Remus had gone back up to the dorm after speaking to his mum, and he hadn’t noticed Owain so he couldn’t tell if he’d been there the entire time. But when he came down an hour later to pick up a book he’d forgotten, he noticed Owain sitting in the dark with his chin in his hands.

There was something about the scene that seemed odd. Remus couldn’t put his finger on it immediately, but he knew that something was off.

“Hello,” he greeted, grabbing Owain’s attention. Owain looked up and barely acknowledged him. He just placed his head back down and continued staring at the floor. 

“It’s late,” Remus continued. “Are you alright?” Owain shook his head. Remus went over and was about to sit down next to him, when Owain quickly stopped him.

“Don’t sit down!” Remus stood for a second in a slightly squatted position before lifting himself back up to his full height.

“Why not?” 

“You’ll make the stairs change.” Remus paused for a moment, and then the realisation hit him full force. Owain was sitting on the stairs to the girl’s dorm. 

He shouldn’t have been able to.

“You… you’re…” Remus didn’t know how to begin.

“Actually…” Owain stood up. “Could you try the stairs? I think they might be broken. Maybe they won’t change if you stand on them.” Remus looked at him, seeing the slight desperation behind his eyes and sighed. He didn’t want to try the stairs, because either they would work and he’d end up on the floor, or they wouldn’t work and the consequential dysphoria would be hard to bear. He’d never tried the stairs to the girl’s dorm for that very reason. He couldn’t handle the thought of them not changing for him.

But he couldn’t say that to Owain, so he brought his foot up to place down upon the first step. Maybe they would be broken.

He managed to climb a few stairs and with each step his chest tightened until he was sure he’d start tearing up if he moved any further. But with a single clunk sound marking a wave of relief, the stairs changed and Remus tumbled down the slide towards the floor. He didn’t even care about the fall, he felt more ecstatic than Owain could understand. Any confirmation that the castle saw him as a boy never ceased to make him feel like he was floating. Ironic, since he was still splayed out on the carpet, unable to suppress a smile.

“What’s funny?” Asked Owain. Remus stood up and composed himself.

“Nothing. Sorry.” Owain certainly didn’t see the positive side to it. He went up as many steps as Remus did, then a few more, then came back to the bottom step and sat back down.

“I don’t get it,” he said. “The stairs must be broken. There’s no other explanation.” Remus sat cross-legged in front of him since he wasn’t able to sit on the stairs himself.

“The stairs don’t change when you sit on them,” Remus voiced, ensuring that he had the whole situation correct in his mind. “Even though they always change when a boy walks up them.” Owain looked at him.

“You don’t need to spell it out.”

“Sorry. But… what does it mean then?”

“I don’t know. I guess they’re… breaking down? Can you repair magical stairs?”

“I don’t think the stairs are broken.” Remus said it quietly, nervously, not knowing how Owain would react. Owain didn’t do anything.

“But then… that means…” He stood up again and walked over to the fireplace, throwing himself down into the armchair. Remus followed him. “It doesn’t mean anything, it’s stupid. The whole thing’s stupid—”

“If you want to be a girl you can be a girl.” Owain stared at him in shock, and Remus stared right back. He had said it as soon as Owain had finished speaking. He’d barely been listening because it had been waiting at the tip of his tongue, for a while actually, ever since the polyjuice conversation, although he hadn’t realised how much it had been playing on his mind until now. Remus was trans, so he understood things that the others didn’t, at least when it came to gender. He didn’t know everything of course, because he could only go by his own experiences, but while everyone else would probably tell Owain that it was most likely nothing, that the stairs had made a mistake and that there was nothing to worry about, Remus was in a position where he didn’t want to beat around the bush. Because if Owain was what Remus suspected he was (she was?), then Remus knew what it felt like to be in the wrong body. The less time Owain had to feel like that the better in Remus’s opinion.

“W-what?” Remus sat on the sofa beside him.

“I would say if you think you’re a girl then maybe you are, but that’s a little overwhelming if you have no idea what I’m talking about. So… in simple terms, if you want to be a girl, you can be.”

“I don’t… what are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry if I’m assuming anything, but I don’t think magical stairs can get things wrong. And that’s not all, anyway.”

“What’s not all?”

“Remember the conversation we had on polyjuice potion?” Owain didn’t make a move to confirm, but Remus continued on anyway. “You were confused that no one wanted to change their gender, even for a day. You said you didn’t want to either, but you were lying weren’t you?” Owain shook his head angrily and went to leave.

“I know how you feel.” Owain stopped and turned to him.

“How can you possibly know how I feel?” He spat, in a voice that was surprisingly antagonistic, but the almost unnoticeable voice crack gave it away.

“Because I’m transgender.” The room went quiet, but this was probably the only time Remus had ever come out with as much confidence as he just had. He wasn’t fully confident of course, it was impossible to be so, but he didn’t hesitate. He gazed steadily at Owain, who didn’t say anything at first. Then he slowly stepped back towards Remus and blinked.

“What… does that mean?”

“It means I was born a girl, but I became a boy because I knew I was one.” Owain didn’t reply, so Remus continued, just to fill in the silence. “I must admit, it’s hard to explain it simply, but that’s about as well as I can explain it–”

“Wait, hold on.” Remus stopped and waited for Owain to collect his thoughts. “So you’re… you were a girl. But, now you’re not.”

“I mean, I never was a girl but… yeah?”

“What do you mean you were never a girl?”

“I was born a girl, but I never felt like one, so technically I’ve never been a girl.”

“Oh. Um… I suppose that makes sense?”

“Sorry it’s a lot to take in. I just… I don’t know, I guess what I’m trying to say is… do you ever feel like that?”

“Like what?” Owain asked it quietly and he was starting to make his way back towards the fireplace, slowly.

“Like you’re… in the wrong body or something?” Owain ran his fingers along the top of the sofa as he thought. He then sat on the sofa arm and looked up at Remus.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “I hadn’t really thought about it until now. It’s not like I hate my body or anything I just always thought…”

“What?”

“Can I ask, did you like… change your name then? You weren’t given the name Remus were you, it’s a boy’s name.”

“I did yeah.”

“And there must have been a time when you still looked like a girl. Did you cut your hair, and start wearing boy clothes?” Remus nodded. “How did that feel?”

“Well… it was a while ago, so I don’t really remember, but I know it felt great. It always does, when I get to do or wear something that’s typically male. It feels right.” Remus nodded at his last statement. “That’s it, it feels right.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“That it would feel right?”

“I’ve never really hated boy stuff, that’s not it. I mean, gender’s never really been a big deal for me. It’s not like I ever acted like a girl, but I’ve been thinking lately that… maybe it would feel right. Like you said. I really don’t know how to explain it, and I didn’t realise it was even a thing.”

“Well, I guess your feelings are a little different than mine. Gender always meant a lot to me which is why I always feel like shit if something happens that makes me feel like a girl. Like when I had to wear dresses sometimes as a kid or… you know, puberty stuff.”

“I get it. It’s not that I don’t get it, it’s just. For me it’s more about what makes me feel good than what makes me feel bad.”

“That makes sense.” Owain slid down from the sofa arm and laid down on the sofa, with his legs still hanging over the side. “I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation. I hadn’t thought about any of this before you started talking about it.”

“Sorry.”

“No it’s okay. Maybe I had been thinking about it all along and hadn’t realised. Maybe when I always referred to myself as a witch I was lying to myself about what that meant. Everything’s so confusing now.”

“Listen, I’m not here to force you to make a decision. I just wanted to tell you about the whole trans thing in case it was something you could think over. It’s up to you at the end of the day, but I’m here if you need help, or have any questions.”

“I have a question.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think I’m trans?” Remus paused, caught off guard slightly because he had no idea how to answer. “The castle seems to think I’m a girl. Do you... is it correct? The castle?”

“If you don’t know, I definitely don’t know.”

“But you’ve experienced it. You’re an expert.”

“I’m really not. I can only go by what I’ve been through and it seems to be pretty different from what you’re going through.”

“Then, does that mean I’m not trans?”

“Not necessarily. Everyone’s different. For starters, I was born a girl and became a boy. You were born a boy and… you may become a girl. Already it’s different.”

“... I may become a girl...” he echoed, then shook his head. “I just need to think.”

“Yeah.”

“Can I ask one more thing?”

“Sure.”

“How did you become a boy?”

“You want the whole timeline?” Remus joked lightly. “Because it’s pretty long.”

“No, I get you changed your name and cut your hair and all that. I mean... puberty wise. Sorry if that’s personal and stuff, but you obviously didn’t go through girl puberty, your voice is deep and you have facial hair and stuff.” Remus hesitated. It was personal, Owain was right, and under normal circumstances he really wouldn’t have answered. He would have just told Owain that it was none of his business and left it at that. But if Owain was trans too, then Remus wanted to do anything he could to help.

“Without going into a lot of detail,” he began “I take this potion called Morfosis. Madam Pomfrey gave it to me around second year and it changes my female hormones into male ones. Hence, the voice change and the facial hair. But it doesn’t change everything immediately, and it can’t reverse things that have already happened. I have to bind my chest to keep it flat and sometimes I still get my period. But… there is magic to help transitioning. It’s basically just transfiguration.”

“Clue’s in the name?” Remus smiled slightly.

“Yeah.”

“What do you mean you bind your chest?”

“I have a bra type thing that’s charmed with a binding spell to keep it flat. I don’t wear it all the time though, at Hogwarts Madam Pomfrey usually just keeps it flat with magic. If we’re being honest, I’m not very responsible when it comes to the binding. You’re not supposed to wear the binder thing for too long, and you can’t sleep in it. But I hated my chest so much that I sort of ignored those rules.”

“And what happened?”

“Bruised a rib.” Owain winced.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah…”

“I suppose it would be different for me then,” Owain said. “If the potion can’t reverse anything then it’s not gonna do much for me, is it?”

“Your voice isn’t that deep yet. And I’m sure it’ll do something. I’m not sure what though.”

“Whatever, it’s not like I’m gonna ask. I don’t know how I feel right now, but no matter what, if I suddenly turned into a girl I don’t think people will be very understanding. It’s okay for you, you arrived at Hogwarts as a boy, no one knows. But they’ll know about me.”

“People know about me.”

“They do?”

“Some. I told Lily and James and Sirius and Peter. They were all okay, except… Peter wasn’t at first but he came round eventually. He was a bit if a dick though, so I’m still a little wary.”

“Is that why you two fell out?”

“Yeah.”

“But the others are okay?” Remus nodded. “What about your family?”

“My mum’s always been okay with it. She was brilliant. My dad… took some time to come round to the idea. But most of my family are fine with it, and the ones who aren’t I don’t care about. Just some muggle aunt or whatever.”

“I don’t know what my family will think. They’re pretty set in what they think, you know, boys do this and girls do that. I don’t think they’d be very happy.”

“I’m sorry.” Sometimes Remus forgot that other people didn’t have a family like his, or even just one parent like his mum. Then again, he had never met another (possible) trans person in his life before, so he’d never really had the need to think about other people and their situations.

And then the evening finally started to hit him. Owain may have been the first trans person Remus had ever talked to before. This was huge! He wasn’t the only one after all, there was someone else! He never thought he’d ever be having this conversation with someone, a conversation about trans stuff that both parties could actually relate to. Yeah, their experiences were clearly different but they both had one thing in common: they weren’t the gender they were born as. And that was a major thing in common, and Remus was ecstatic.

Of course, he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. There was still no guarantee that Owain was actually trans. Owain would have to figure that out for himself. Herself?

“Hey,” said Remus. “Out of interest, do you want me to refer to you as a girl? Not to other people or anything, but if an opportunity ever arises is that something you’d want?”

“To be honest, I have no idea. But I think the fact that I’m not even sure if I want to be referred to as a boy anymore is pretty damning evidence that I have a lot to think about.”

“Well, if you decide on anything, keep me updated. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

“Thanks. It’s cool I actually have someone to speak about this with.”

“I know, it’s amazing. I can’t talk about this with anyone usually. So… sorry if I get a little excited.”

“That’s alright.” Owain stood up and rubbed his hand behind his neck. “Is it really that rare though? Being trans?” Remus shrugged.

“Globally? I have no clue. There’s not really any books or stuff on it. But personally, I’ve never met anyone else like me.”

“Oh.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s wrong though. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“No. I don’t think there is.” A single spark flew out of the grate as they stood in temporary silence.

“We should get to bed,” Owain eventually said. “It’s late.”

“Yeah.” Owain turned to leave, but stopped once more and turned around. Remus almost ran into him.

“Just quickly. Because, I think I need to hear it out loud. Could you… and I’m sorry if this sounds stupid but could you… refer to me as a girl like… right now? In a sentence or something I don’t know, I just wanna hear what it sounds like.”

“Yeah, okay.” Remus thought for a second. “Er… this is Owain and she’s my friend. She likes herbology and er… she’s a fun girl to be around!” Owain smiled, but it was tainted with what looked to be the familiar expression of when something can no longer be denied. As if the world had come crashing down on top of you.

“Shit,” she said.

“What?”

“That felt better than I thought it would.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know. Go to bed for starters. I can’t even hear my thoughts right now.”

“That’s okay. We can talk tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think we have to. And um… thanks for talking to me now.”

“No problem.” It really was no problem. Remus’s thoughts were probably as fast as Owain’s at the moment, but definitely for different reasons. He didn’t think it was right for him to be so happy when Owain was clearly struggling, but the one thought that kept popping up every few seconds didn’t take any notice.

He wasn’t the only one.

Remus didn’t see Owain again until the evening. She was pretty much avoiding everyone at the moment, while she worked through her thoughts and feelings. Remus understood. Not exactly, because he could never remember a time when he had to figure out if he was a boy or not, but he understood as much as he possibly could what Owain was going through.

Owain hadn’t explicitly stated yet if she wanted to switch pronouns, but Remus had already started internally referring to her as a girl, because if she was one, then he’d feel uncomfortable referring to her as otherwise. He didn’t use female pronouns for her around their friends of course. This was private. There was no way Remus would ever come out on her behalf to the others. At the moment, this was just between the two of them, and Remus quite enjoyed it.

Owain woke him up at around eleven o’clock the following night, asking if they could talk. Remus was up almost immediately, and the two tiptoed downstairs together.

“How’re you feeling?” Remus asked. Owain shrugged.

“I’m not sure if I’m any closer to figuring things out, but… I really don’t know if I’m a boy or not anymore.”

“It’ll take time. There’s no rush, you know.”

“It’s hard imagining myself being referred to as a girl. Not because I don’t think it fits or anything, it’s just not the same saying it in your head.”

“Well, do you think it does fit then?”

“I don’t know!” She screwed her face up and sat down in the armchair, head in hands. Remus sat on the arm beside her.

“Okay well… what about this,” Remus began, “I’ve sort of been thinking of you as a girl ever since last night. I couldn’t really help it. But… Do you want me to stop?” Owain raised his head and stared at the floor.

“Um… so like, when you think about me you think of a girl?”

“I guess? Yeah. If you don’t want me to, I can stop.”

“I don’t think I want you to.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t know what that means, I just know I don’t mind if people think I’m a girl. But I don’t know if that’s just, me not caring or if it’s because I’m actually a girl.” She sighed and put her head back in her hands.

“Why did this have to happen? I was fine before now, and now everything’s all messed up.”

“I’m sorry. But… I mean, it’s not all bad. I’m trans, and yeah there are bad points to it sometimes, but it’s not all bad. I’m doing okay.”

“But it’s not the same for me. The whole school would know. A girl doesn’t just appear overnight in place of a boy, and I’d have to tell my parents, and Anwen and Jethro and I… I can’t do it, Remus.” Remus put an arm around Owain. He didn’t know if it was too personal or not, but she needed at least some semblance of comfort, as much as Remus could offer. Remus didn’t want to say that he was lucky, because he still had a hard time being trans as anyone else would, just simply in different ways or in other ways. But perhaps he took for granted his situation. He’d begun transitioning at such a young age that hardly anyone saw him as a girl anymore, and most people didn’t even know at all. Owain didn’t have any of that. She was completely exposed to an entire wizarding world who knew her as a boy, which stopped her from transitioning at all. And Remus knew that if he were in her shoes he’d be struggling not to scream on a daily basis, or cry or punch a wall or anything. It would certainly feel awful.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” was all Remus could offer. Owain shrugged again.

“I don’t know. I wish I’d never read that thing on Polyjuice potion. If I hadn’t found out about the fact that other people didn’t want to change their gender none of this would have happened.”

“In all honesty, if you believed everyone wanted to change their gender then I’m pretty sure this was always going to happen. Just a bit later.” Owain sat back in the chair and stayed quiet for a bit.

“If it helps,” continued Remus, “I already know that Sirius and James will be okay with it at least. And Lily. Maybe Peter. So that’s four people. Five if you count me.”

“Five people is pretty small against everyone else.”

“I know, but I’ve found having even just one person on your side is pretty nice.” Owain said nothing, her eyes glinting in the dying firelight.

“You know…” she began quietly, “I think I will grow my hair out.” She smiled. A small, anxious smile, but a smile nonetheless.

”I think you’d look great,” said Remus, and smiled back at her.

Chapter Text

“You’ve been hanging out with Owain a lot lately,” remarked Sirius on a lazy Saturday afternoon after Remus joined him and James and Peter in the courtyard outside. He’d been spending some time in the greenhouses with Owain.

“Sorry. But he is my friend.”

“No I don’t care or anything, but you could bring him round sometimes. He’s our friend too.” Remus nodded and sat down on the wall underneath the archway. He and Owain had been talking a lot, with Owain still trying to figure things out and Remus doing what he could to help. Owain was starting to experiment, privately, with female pronouns mostly, but she was also starting to grow out her hair like she said. It had only been a week, so it wasn’t exactly long, but she was trying to tie it up in more feminine styles to see how she felt.

She wasn’t able to do much experimentation-wise. What she wanted to do was change her appearance, her style. She admitted to Remus that she was starting to feel trapped in a way she hadn’t realised feeling until now.

“I can’t really explain it,” she began quietly in the greenhouse, before Remus had left to meet up with the others. She was snipping at the leaves of a baby Alihotsy plant. “It’s like… I just feel disconnected from the male gender. Does that make sense? I don’t know if it makes sense.”

“I think it makes sense.”

“I don’t hate it, I just… it’s not me. And I think that’s why I didn’t really realise, because I wasn’t uncomfortable, I just didn’t know who I was. I still don’t, but at least I can start working it out.”

It was eight o’clock now, and everyone was in their dorm rooms. Most of them were sitting around chatting, or getting undressed or brushing their teeth. Owain was rummaging around in her trunk looking for a textbook when she pulled something out, and stared at it.

“How did this get in here?” she voiced, mostly to herself, but the others heard clearly enough to turn around and look.

“A skirt?” said James.

“Must be Anwen’s,” concluded Owain and shoved it back inside. “Accidentally packed it before holidays ended or something.”

“Put it on,” said James, grinning. “I dare you.” Owain looked taken aback and didn’t reply right away. Remus could guess that she was trying not to consider it.

“Yeah go on,” continued Remus, joining in, but for reasons far more different than James’. “You can’t back down from a dare.” Owain stared at him, and the two shared a look. This is your chance, Remus was thinking. You can try it on and no one’ll think anything of it. It’s just a dare.

“Alright,” replied Owain. “You’re on.” She took her trousers off and pulled the skirt on.

“Suits you,” laughed Sirius. “Give us a twirl.” Owain obliged, and began to joke around with the others, making a statement and acting over the top for laughs. But Remus could see in her eyes that she was delighted. He could tell by the fact that she couldn’t stop smiling, even for a second. It was a struggle for her to eventually take it off.

Once she did, not wanting to look as if she was comfortable in a skirt in front of the boys, it was passed round through the room. The dare started to spread, and James was dared to put it on next. He obliged with as much confidence as he always had when given a dare, and he curtseyed to the entire room. He passed the dare onto Sirius who became slightly mesmerised by the way the skirt twirled around and ended up holding himself up on the bed frame from dizziness.

Peter refused to put it on and passed it over to Jethro instead.

“Goes with my eyes,” Jethro said jokily, his hand under his chin like the pose of a film actress. He took off the skirt and threw it over to Remus.

“Go on, mate, don’t chicken out like Peter.” Remus looked at the skirt in his hand.

“Um… you know, I’m alright. I’d rather not.”

“Come on, it’s just a skirt,” Jethro encouraged. Remus forgot that Jethro was the only one in their dorm who didn’t know Remus was trans. He didn’t realise why Remus would be uncomfortable, but the others did. James quickly distracted everyone by grabbing the skirt out of Remus’s hands and putting it back on.

“I think girls have the right idea,” he said. “Skirts are bloody comfy.” He and Sirius kept taking it in turns to wear the skirts, Sirius more so than James. James was doing it as a joke, as well as keeping it away from Remus. Sirius on the other hand started to actually get comfortable and ended up forgetting to take it off entirely. He fell asleep still wearing it.

Owain didn’t return the skirt back to Anwen. When Sirius gave it back to her the following day, Remus caught her hiding it underneath the rest of her clothes in her trunk.

“How did it feel?” Remus asked as they walked to their first lesson together.

“Amazing. I didn’t realise how good it would feel, and then I almost wanted to cry. Thank Merlin I didn’t.”

Hope was in hospital again. Lyall informed Remus in a letter and assured him that she was okay, she simply needed some further treatment.

“She’ll be out in a few days, so don’t worry,” he said when Remus had floo-ed him as soon as possible for more information. He certainly would worry. Any time his mother was sent back to hospital was a worry because it meant that she was deteriorating, even if only temporarily. Saying not to worry was as infuriating as not saying anything.

“Are you sure she’ll be okay?” Remus asked. “What if she gets worse?”

“She won’t, the doctors have said she’s doing fine so far. In a few days she’ll be back to talking with you every night, and you can tell her all about your days for hours on end. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Alright…” When he left the common room he found Sirius and told him what was going on. Sirius didn’t know what to say so he just hugged him, and tried to cheer him up by distracting him with sweets he’d bought from a second year.

“Normal sweets seem so boring now compared to the ones in Hogsmeade,” said Sirius, chewing on a toffee that was charmed to never disintegrate. You could chew for hours and it’d still be there glewing your mouth shut. They were enjoyable enough until the novelty wore off and your jaw started hurting.

“Shame we can only go to Hogsmeade on certain weekends,” replied Remus. They voiced their annoyances with James later on and he said they should just sneak out to Hogsmeade if they wanted to.

“Been a while since we snuck out anywhere,” he said. “I miss it.”

“Last time we snuck out somewhere Remus turned into a werewolf,” joked Sirius.

“Yeah that sucked, I hope that never happens again,” said Remus, lightly continuing the joke.

“You know how there’s a secret passage from the tree to the Shrieking Shack?” Asked James, not really listening to the other two. He was clearly in the middle of Having an Idea.

“Yeah?”

“There’s gotta be one leading to Hogsmeade somewhere, or at least near it.”

“Hogsmeade’s a bit far isn’t it?” said Remus.

“So’s the Shrieking Shack. I mean, think about it. This place is like… thousands of years old. There’s secret passages everywhere. I’m sure someone must have built one leading out to Hogsmeade. You know, smugglers or something.”

“I suppose it sounds plausible.”

“We should go explore then,” suggested Sirius. “Bring the map. See if we can find any more passages.” James lit up at the idea, and Remus knew there would be no talking either of them out of it. Truth be told, Remus was tempted as well. He missed the thrill of exploring the castle at night with his friends, huddled under the invisibility cloak and running from Mrs Norris.

“Looks like the cloak shall see daylight once more!” Cheered James when Remus finally agreed.

Midnight was always a good time to go sneaking around the castle, not because it was any safer or less risky but because it was midnight, and therefore it was cool. Peter had been roped in for look out and he was once again resuming his old place as map holder and editor. A pencil was poised in his hand and he was chewing on the end in concentration.

“We’ve been to this section of the castle,” whispered James from in front. “Perhaps we should go down to the dungeons. Surely any secret passages out of the school would be there.”

“Alright, but we have to be careful,” reminded Remus. They all tried to avoid the dungeons when they could, mostly because it was where the Slytherin house was, and the last thing they wanted to do was run into any enemies. Even at this time at night they might accidentally run into a prowling prefect guarding the halls. Because of this, they were reluctant to light up their wands, but as a result it was almost impossible to see. The only light they ever received was the weird glowing green from the Great Lake shining through the sparse windows. It certainly wasn’t the best conditions to search for secret passages.

“Do you think there’s anywhere lower than the dungeons?” Asked Sirius after around fifteen minutes of struggling around the winding hallways.

“How can there be anywhere lower than the dungeons?” replied Sirius.

“Well, maybe the dungeons have dungeons.”

“I mean… it’s worth a shot,” said James. They limited their search to any small doors that may have opened onto an even smaller staircase, leading them further down underneath the lake. The slate-grey bricks on the walls continued on for what felt like miles. Other than the entrance to the Slytherin common room, the potions classroom and a few others abandoned classrooms, there really seemed to be nothing down here.

“Bloody statues everywhere,” complained James after nearly bumping into yet another statue of some ancient witch or wizard. While the rooms were few and far between, there was certainly no lack of statues and gargoyles.

“This is stupid,” Sirius eventually remarked. “We’re not going to find anything just by tapping the walls. Isn’t there supposed to be a spell that reveals secret passageways?”

“Dissendium,” replied Remus. Before Sirius could reply, they suddenly heard a grinding sound, like stone against stone. They jumped at the noise and James was forced to light his wand in order to see what was going on. The statue he had nearly bumped into was opening up from behind. After a few seconds, the grinding sound stopped, and the boys peered into a dark, narrow passageway. Remus cleared his throat.

“Well… that worked.” Once they had got over the initial shock of their lucky discovery, James stepped through the entrance to the passageway, but was quickly held back by Peter.

“Are you sure you wanna go through there?” he warned. “We don’t know where it leads. It could be dangerous.”

“We have our wands don’t we? Besides, we came here to find passageways and we found one. We can’t turn back now.” Peter looked reluctant, but Sirius rushed ahead of all of them and entered the passageway, his wand light starting to fade the deeper in he went. They were now forced to follow him if only to avoid losing him. They all held their wands up in front of them, casting Lumos Maxima as soon as they were out of eyeshot from the dungeon halls.

The passageway was eerily silent, the only noise being the occasional dripping of water which the boys assumed– or at least hoped– was from the lake. It went on for ages, until they were starting to think there was no end and they’d have to deal with the disappointing journey back to the castle.

“Hey…” Sirius interrupted from ahead, stopping so abruptly that James ran into him. “Watch where you’re going, mate.”

“Don’t just stop!”

“Shh! Look… it’s a dead end.”

“Damn,” replied James irritably. “That’s boring. Who built a passageway for no reason?”

“Are you sure it’s not just blocked up?” Asked Remus, making his way in front of them and inspecting the wall. It was completely flat, bricked up with not a brick out of place. “Maybe someone just sealed it up.”

“You’re all idiots,” said Peter from behind. They turned to him.

“What?”

“Ever thought of looking up?” They all looked up. There was a trap door right above them.

“Oh.” James jumped up to try and touch it, being the tallest in the group. He only grazed it with his fingertips, but it slightly jolted upwards.

“It isn’t locked!” he informed triumphantly. “Someone give me a leg up.” Sirius and Remus came forward and joined their hands together to create a kind of platform for James to stand on. James stepped up, balancing himself with the help of Sirius’s head, much to Sirius’s annoyance. He was able to reach the trap door now, and he pushed it upwards enough for him to peek through to whatever was on the other side. Holding his wand, he observed his surroundings.

“Hurry up,” Remus puffed, struggling to hold James’s weight for much longer.

“It looks like some sort of box room,” called back James. “I can’t tell where it is though.”

“Might be someone’s house,” suggested Peter. “Or a shop.”

“If it’s a shop, does that mean we’re in Hogsmeade?” Sirius asked.

“Maybe,” replied James. “I’m going to go up. Hand me the cloak.” Peter passed him the invisibility cloak, and James climbed up through the trapdoor, relieving the poor hands of his friends.

“Be careful,” reminded Sirius. “And don’t be too long.” James let the trap door close lightly behind him, and the other three waited for him to return.

“Do you think he’ll be alright?” Asked Peter.

“He has his wand,” assured Remus, trying to convince himself that James would be fine more than anyone else. “And his invisibility cloak.”

“As long as he doesn’t get caught,” said Sirius. “Which he shouldn’t. He’ll be fine.” After a few minutes they were starting to get worried.

“He’s definitely dead,” said Remus, nibbling at his nails in fear. “We should go up.”

“Alright, you two give me a leg up,” ordered Sirius. Peter and Remus were about to link hands, before the trap door finally reopened with a low clanking sound, and the three looked up into the grinning face of James.

“I told you not to be too long!” hissed Sirius at his friend. James took no notice.

“You wouldn’t believe where we’ve ended up,” he said, sitting on the edge of the doorway and swinging his legs in excitement. “There’s a ladder on the other wall, I’ll go get it and you can join me.” He left them once again, and returned a few moments later carrying a small, wooden ladder. He let it down in front of them, and they all climbed up into the dark room.

“Where are we then?” asked Remus. James didn’t reply. He simply led them up a small staircase, opened a door and stood in front of them with his arms outstretched like a magician after successfully performing a particularly grand trick.

“Ta da!” They looked around, and the surroundings soon became familiar once they had adjusted to the darkness.

“No bloody way!” remarked Sirius. “We’re in Honeydukes!”

“The passageway must lead to the storeroom or something,” said James, bouncing on the toes of his feet at the sheer exhilaration of being here. “I knew there’d be a passageway to Hogsmeade somewhere!”

They all rushed off in different directions. It wasn’t as if the shop was any different layout-wise, but it felt different. It felt ten times more exciting than at any other time because they weren’t supposed to be here. Peter had placed the map on the counter and was scribbling fervorously on it, sketching out the passageway to and from there probably.

“So, what should we do now?” Asked Sirius, the novelty already starting to wear off for his short attention span.

“I suppose we could go look around Hogsmeade,” suggested James. “Wander around in the dark and nose into the empty shops.”

“Bit risky,” said Remus. “Someone could see us.”

“But we came all this way!”

“Yeah, and now we know we can come here whenever we want. We can leave now.”

“You know, for a werewolf you’re really boring sometimes.” Remus stuck his tongue out at James light-heartedly, and James immediately returned the gesture. “Fine, let’s go. I’m tired anyway.”

“You written down the passageway, Pete?” called Sirius.

“Hang on, just drawing the statue… what statue was that anyway?”

“Dunno. We’ll figure it out when we get back.” They retired to the passageway, putting the ladder back and leaving everything as normal, as if no one had been there. They made the ten minute journey back through the corridor, hoping against hope they wouldn’t bump into anyone or anything when they returned to the dungeons.

“That’s Gunhilda of Gorsemoor,” informed Sirius when they finally returned and were able to study the statue more closely. “The one eyed witch.” Peter scribbled the name onto the map, and labelled the passageway ‘The One-Eyed Witch Passage’.

“Come on,” whispered James. “Before Mrs Norris catches us.” They retraced their steps back to the corridor, barely breathing underneath the invisibility cloak out of fear of being spotted. After being gone for so long, they were half-convinced that someone would have noticed their absence and immediately cart them off to detention.

But the castle was quiet. They barely ran into a stray mouse, and soon made it back to the common room, elated by the evening’s activities.

“That was so fun,” breathed James, his arms stretched behind his head. “We should do that every night.”

“Not every night,” said Remus. “But it was fun.”

“Shame we couldn’t bag any sweets,” continued Peter.

“We can’t steal anything,” replied James. “We’re not that bad.” Sirius stayed quiet, and they all climbed the stairs to their dorm room, flopping onto their beds with their clothes still on. It was one in the morning.

Remus was half-asleep almost immediately, but he was shaken awake a few minutes later, snapping him out of that floaty stage of dreaming where reality and hallucination combined.

“Hey.” It was Sirius. He sidled up to Remus, who moved over enough so they both had room. “Got you something.” He dug around in his pockets and pulled out a chocolate frog. “They’re your favourite, aren’t they?” Remus stared at the purple box in shock.

“Tell me you didn’t take that from Honeydukes.”

“It’s only one. No one’ll miss one.”

“Sirius, that’s stealing!”

“You don’t want it then?”

“No I don’t want it!” Sirius looked disappointed, but shrugged and returned the chocolate frog to his pocket.

“Sorry,” he said dejectedly. Remus sighed.

“Hold on,” he muttered. Sirius peaked his head round the velvet curtains, eyebrows raised in expectation.

“You’re sure it’s only one?” Sirius nodded.

“Alright, fine. I’ll take it.” Sirius held his hand out, smiling, and Remus took the box from him. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome!” He grinned and waved a quick goodbye. The curtains fell back to still, and Remus turned over in his bed studying the box. He reached over towards his bedside table and placed the box inside the draw. He supposed it was a nice gesture, even if it was illegal… that probably didn’t make it any better, but Remus was too tired to care enough. He closed the draw, rested his head on his arm and soon fell back to sleep.

“How did you choose your name?” Asked Owain, curiously. She and Remus were sitting outside in the courtyard watching the rain pour off the archways. Remus was feeling lighter today, less anxious. His mum was nearly out of hospital, and would hopefully be home by tonight. Sirius wasn’t going to be there until after Remus had spoken to his mum, because he was worried he’d be imposing. Remus assured him otherwise, but he didn’t mind either way. If he was being honest, he did want to speak to his mum along tonight, since it would be the first time he’d seen her in a week. Sirius understood. He was on the Quidditch pitch with James at the moment, and Remus was spending his lunchtime with Owain.

“From a book,” he replied. He took a bite out of a sandwich he’d nicked from the Great Hall.

“Really? Which book?”

“One about Roman myths. Specifically the story of Romulus and Remus.”

“You named yourself after a Roman?”

“Yeah I know, I apologise to my Celtic ancestors. But in my defence I was five, and the story was cool.”

“Well, I suppose Remus is a cool name.”

“Thanks.”

“I was thinking of changing my name.” Remus raised his eyebrows.

“Really? To what?”

“Not sure. I just don't really feel… connected to the name Owain. It is a boy’s name for starters, but I’ve never really liked it.”

“Any ideas what you’d like to be called instead?” Owain shrugged.

“Something Welsh. Unlike you, I’m keeping my roots.” Remus stuck his tongue out at her.

“My old name wasn’t Welsh either.”

“Well mine is. My parents named me after Owain Glyndŵr. How am I supposed to find a name that lives up to the Prince of Wales? The leader who’s supposed to return and liberate us all?”

“Your parents really have high standards, don’t they?” Remus joked, but Owain nodded gravely. Remus took another bite of his sandwich.

“Why don’t you pick a name that they’d like, then? Some other Welsh hero.”

“I don’t know any others. Let me think… I mean, there’s plenty of male heroes. Then there are some pagan goddesses but I don’t think I could name myself after them…” She brightened suddenly. “They like the song Myfanwy by Ryan Davies.”

“Myfanwy?”

“It’s a girl’s name.”

“Yeah I know. It’s nice.”

“Do you think?” Remus nodded.

“Suits you, if it’s named after a song.”

“Why does that suit me?”

“You’ve got quite a good singing voice.” Owain lowered her eyebrows at him.

“How do you know that?” She asked.

“You sing in the shower, mate.”

“Oh.” She went red, unaware that anyone had even heard her sing. Remus quickly changed the subject.

“You should try the name out. Just between me and you of course. I can use it, and you can see if you like it.”

“Myfanwy…” she murmured, then nodded. “Okay.”

“Alright, then. Myfanwy.”

Chapter Text

Remus wanted to get Sirius something for his birthday, but he wasn’t sure what. He could have got him a record, but the record player in the common room had broken a while ago. No one knew exactly what happened, they had simply returned from the holidays to find that nothing would make it go anymore, so perhaps whatever spells had been placed on it to force it to work in the castle had worn off or something. Eventually, someone had just chucked it away.

Remus wandered around Hogsmeade on the next weekend trip, drifting away from his friends so he could search for something. He didn’t have a lot of money to spend. Christmas wasn’t for a while, and that was usually the only time he received any money, except for birthdays. He had around five galleons saved up, which wasn’t bad. It could certainly buy something small for Sirius’s birthday, but he didn’t know what. A thirteenth birthday was pretty important, and Remus wanted to get something perfect for it.

He decided to enter the nearest shop and take his chances with whatever was in there. The best discoveries were usually accidental discoveries, so perhaps he’d find exactly what he was looking for. He closed his eyes, turned on his heel and opened his eyes. ‘The Crooked Thimble’. It sounded like a pub, but it turned out to be a clothes shop instead. Remus rolled his eyes. Why would Sirius want clothes? Why would Remus want to buy clothes in the first place? But he kept his promise to himself and reluctantly walked inside.

It was quite small, almost dusty. It wasn’t dusty, it just had the feeling that it was. It was dimly lit, and the walls were covered head to toe in racks of robes and shirts and dresses and so forth. Remus couldn’t afford any of this, nor did he think Sirius would want any of it. He wandered to the back of the shop in search of something smaller. There were indeed smaller racks and tables placed near the back, filled with trinkets and accessories. Remus ran his hand through the clothes on one rack. It was lined with flowing skirts, which were very pretty. Remus wanted to buy one for Myfanwy, but he didn’t think he’d have enough money left over if he wanted to buy something for Sirius, which he did. Then he thought about the night when they all tried on a skirt– except for him and Peter. But Sirius seemed to be far more into it than he was probably expecting. Could Remus buy him a skirt? Probably not, Sirius would think he was crazy. And when could he possibly wear it anyway? Remus turned his attention to the tables of trinkets.

He didn’t know why he was even thinking of Sirius liking anything on these tables. All of this stuff was just for women, bracelets and necklaces and rings and stuff. Sirius wouldn’t want any of this, and he’d probably be weirded out if Remus got any of it for him anyway.

And yet, Remus had known Sirius for three years, and probably knew him better than anyone else at Hogwarts, maybe even more so than James. He didn’t know him inside and out because Sirius was still very private about a lot of things, but they had enough of a connection for the back of Remus’s mind to nag at him and insist that Sirius might like this stuff.

Remus picked up a bracelet. It was thin, but pretty. Silvery, dangly things lined the outside of it, glinting in the occasional appearances of sunlight. He put it down. Sirius wouldn’t like it, he was just being silly.

He turned to walk out of the shop. Then stopped, and before he could change his mind again, took the bracelet and headed over to the counter.

“Bit early for Valentine’s day isn’t it?” chuckled the man behind the counter. His one sentence confirmed to Remus that this was a terrible idea, but it was too late to turn back now. Remus had already handed over the money and the man handed him back the bracelet in a small bag. Remus didn’t need the bag. He threw it in the bin and shoved the bracelet into his pocket. Sirius was going to hate him, but he was out of money and time now. He had no choice.

“Before you open it, just… keep an open mind?” Remus handed a tiny parcel to Sirius, wrapped in the most colourful page of The Daily Prophet that Remus could find. Sirius’s birthday had gone like any other, with cake stolen from the Great Hall, hand drawn cards from broke classmates who couldn’t afford presents (why hadn’t Remus just gone with a card? Sirius wouldn’t have minded.) and a midnight feast-slash-small celebration in the dorm room. Remus had waited until it was just him and Sirius alone to give him the present, mostly out of embarrassment more than anything. Unfortunately, Remus had to wait until nearly two am before everyone finally retired to bed and fell asleep. He snuck into Sirius’s bed and handed over the gift.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” said Sirius, surprised at the gesture. Remus waved his hand vaguely.

“It was nothing. But, seriously… you might hate it. I don’t know what I was thinking really, so you can just chuck it away and call me mad or whatever but–”

“Remus. Shut up and let me open it.” He was smiling at Remus’s rambling, but Remus didn’t think he’d be smiling for long. What if he thought Remus was mocking him? Trying to call him a girl or something? Remus hoped he wouldn’t think that.

Sirius opened the wrapping as carefully as he could. It was an odd habit of his that seemed out of place for his character. He was more of the type to rip it open without a thought, but he always took the paper apart like he had been ordered to keep it intact. He did the same now and it was painful to watch when Remus just wanted to put out of his misery.

“A bracelet?”

“I know, it’s weird I don’t know what I was thinking, and if you hate it…” Sirius slipped it on his wrist.

“It’s pretty.” Remus blinked.

“You… actually like it?”

“You’re probably the only person who’d think to get me a bracelet of all things.” Remus didn’t know if that was good or bad. “I really like it.” Remus looked at him expectantly.

“You’re sure?” Sirius nodded.

“I mean, I probably can’t wear it in public but… thank you.” Remus internally sighed in relief. He liked it. Thank Merlin.

“You’re welcome.”

“My parents would hate me wearing this. The skirt too. I think that’s why I liked it.”

“Well, you suit the bracelet, and the skirt.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah.” Sirius smiled to himself, fiddling absent-mindedly with the bracelet. “Do you wanna stay here tonight?” He suddenly asked, quietly.

“In your bed?”

“You don’t have to obviously. I just… it’s nice when you’re here.” Remus pretended to think about it, but he had already made up his mind as soon as Sirius had asked. He definitely wanted to stay.

“I’ll stay.” Sirius looked as if he didn’t expect him to say that, but he nodded in acknowledgment and lay down. Remus lay down next to him.

“Good night, then,” murmured Sirius.

“Night.” Remus was slowly falling asleep already, but he was still hyper aware of being right next to Sirius. Their arms were basically touching, just one tiny movement and they could be holding hands.

No. Absolutely not, what was Remus even thinking? But then again, it was just hand holding. Hand holding didn’t have to mean anything did it? Remus toyed with the idea, bringing his fingers close to Sirius’s but pulling back at the last moment. He wasn’t actually going to do it, he just liked the thrill of getting close. His hand slightly brushed against Sirius’s and he pulled back abruptly. That was too close.

And then he felt Sirius’s hand shift and suddenly close around his. His breath hitched and he turned his head towards his friend. Sirius appeared asleep, he had his eyes closed, but his breathing was still light. He wasn’t sleeping. Remus turned back to the ceiling and focused on Sirius’s hand in his, realising how great it felt. He didn’t know holding hands was so nice, but this was nice.

They weren’t supposed to be doing this, Remus knew that. He had been trying to pretend to himself that he was just close with Sirius as a friend, but this isn’t what friends did, was it? But Sirius was the one who made the move, and took his hand unprompted. So what did that mean? Should Remus ask? He didn’t want to, because he didn’t want Sirius to pull away.

He could worry about what this meant another time. For now, he just wanted to go to sleep and wake up again with Sirius’s hand still in his.

Sirius didn’t mention the hand holding the following day. Remus woke up before him, momentarily forgetting where he was and decided to sneak back to his own bed unnoticed. They had let go of each other some time during the night, but Remus wasn’t able to stop thinking about it. He didn’t know if Sirius was thinking the same, but he refused to give any indication. Sirius just continued as if nothing had happened. As much as Remus didn’t want to have a conversation about what last night meant (if it actually did mean anything), but he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that Sirius was apparently pretending it didn’t exist.

“Hold on… when’s your birthday?” Sirius asked the following day. “I just realised I have no idea when it is.”

“Tenth of March,” Remus replied, realising he didn’t mind anymore if his friends knew. Although he hoped they wouldn’t make a big deal about it when it came around.

“We must have missed it twice now! How come you never told us?” Remus shrugged.

“I don’t really celebrate my birthday.”

“Oh. Do your parents not let you?”

“What? No, they let me, of course they do.” Sirius faltered slightly and Remus quickly realised his reaction hadn’t been appropriate. “Sorry. Do your parents not let you?”

“Not really. They say birthdays are a waste of time.”

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t really know what else to say. “I think they’re a waste of time too, but at least that’s my choice.”

“Whatever, it’s not that big a deal. It’s just one day.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Sirius didn’t look very cheered up though. “Wanna go nick some cakes from the Great Hall? I think lunch is still going on.” Sirius smiled and nodded at him. They left and grabbed a few cupcakes for themselves and their friends.

James, Peter, Sirius and Remus sat underneath the oak tree with the cupcakes, enjoying the oddly mild weather for this time of year.

“You know… I think I should tell Jethro I’m trans,” Remus said, pondering out loud.

“Really?” said James. “Where did that come from?”

“I dunno, I was just thinking. He’s the only one in the dorm who doesn’t know, and if he’s not okay with it, I still have you guys.”

“Doesn’t Owain not know as well?” Remus realised his slip up and backtracked slightly.

“Uh… oh yeah. No, he doesn’t know as well. I should tell him too.”

“You don’t have to tell anyone anything if you don’t want to,” said Sirius.

“I know. Of course I know that, and I wouldn’t if I didn’t want to. But I do want to. It’s hard not being able to talk openly a lot. I didn’t realise how hard it was.”

“Well, if they’re not okay with it, we’ll kick their arses,” concluded James.

“Thanks, but I think it’ll be alright.” Myfanwy would certainly be okay with it, considering he had already told her and that she was also– almost definitely– trans as well. He wasn’t sure about Jethro because he had no idea what Jethro’s views would be on this, but Jethro had never given him any reason to worry. Then again, neither had Peter, and while Peter was okay now, it certainly hadn’t started out that way.

“Hey, Jeth?” It was getting dark outside, and Jethro was putting his homework books away in a corner of the dorm room. The others were downstairs, except for Myfanwy, who was still finishing off her own homework. Remus didn’t mind her overhearing, although it still felt too private, and he’d probably prefer if she wasn’t there. But he didn’t want to make a scene, and Myfanwy would wonder what he could possibly be saying to Jethro that required her to leave.

“What’s up?”

“Mind if I talk to you for a second?”

“No, go ahead.” Remus sat down next to him and lay his back against the nearest bed frame.

“Just… we’ve known each other for a while, so I thought I should tell you. I want to tell you, because you’re my friend…” he paused. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course we’re friends! Why, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong just…” he decided to use the same method he had when he came out to Lily. “Do you know what transgender means?” Jethro shook his head, and Remus temporarily ignored Myfanwy clearly looking up from her homework to listen.

“It’s when someone’s born one gender but they feel like the opposite gender. Does that make sense?”

“I guess? I’ve never heard of that.”

“I know, it’s not very well known. There’s nothing wrong with it or anything. It’s just… you know, someone becoming a boy or someone becoming a girl. If they feel like that, then they change their gender to match. It’s as simple as that.” It wasn’t that simple, but Remus found people accepted things that sounded simple far more easily than anything else. He had to dumb everything down as if he was talking to a child whenever he told someone, but if it meant he didn’t get stared at like he was from outer space, then he didn’t care. But it was why he liked talking to Myfanwy so much. She actually understood.

“O…kay?” replied Jethro. “So, what are you trying to tell me?”

“I’m transgender.”

“Oh.”

“I was born a girl, but I’m a boy,” he clarified, in case Jethro was thinking the opposite.

“Oh!”

“Sorry if this was sudden and all, I just wanted to get it out there. It felt stupid keeping it from you after so long, and the others know. James and Sirius and Peter and… I’ll stop rambling, sorry.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I mean… are you sure?” Remus blinked.

“Am I sure?”

“No yeah, sorry, of course you’re sure I just meant… sorry, it’s weird thinking you were a girl once.”

“I wasn’t.”

“I meant… sorry, I don’t know what I mean. Er…”

“I know what you mean. It doesn’t have to be weird because you don’t have to think of me ever being a girl.”

“Good, because I don’t think I could.” Remus brightened up, finally getting a proper indication that Jethro seemed okay with it.

“This doesn’t change anything, does it?”

“I guess not? I mean, if I can’t see you as a girl, then you’re not one. And that means nothing changes.”

“Right.”

“Well… thanks for telling me? Sorry, I don’t know what else to say.”

“That’s alright, I’ve had far worse reactions. In fact, you’re probably one of the best reactions I’ve had.”

“I am?”

“Yeah, it’s great. I like just saying it to someone and then we can both move on immediately. I hate explaining stuff.”

“Alright, you don’t have to explain anything then, I wouldn’t know what to ask anyway.”

“Good. I’ll er… see you downstairs then.”

“Yeah, see you.” Remus left the room, surprised at how well that had gone. He glanced over at Myfanwy. She had turned back to reading her textbook, but he noticed her eyes weren’t moving. Remus realised that he was glad he had told Jethro in front of her, because it meant she could find out what Jethro’s reaction would be without her needing to ask herself. At least, Remus hoped that would be Jethro’s reaction to her. You could never tell sometimes. People could be okay with one person, but not another. Especially if they’re closer with one person than they are with someone else.

Myfanwy came up to him some time later, when they were both alone.

“What made you tell him?” She asked, curiously. Remus shrugged.

“I just wanted to. Everyone else knows.”

“But you told him in front of me.”

“Did you not want me to? I’m sorry…” he really was sorry, because the last thing he wanted to do was make Myfanwy uncomfortable. He should have asked first, but he didn’t know she'd be in the room.

“No, it’s not that. I didn’t care, you can tell him whatever you want, I just… I thought maybe you had a reason to do it in front of me?”

“No. I didn’t know you were in the room. But… afterwards I thought maybe it was good that you saw what his reaction was, cos then you could see how he might react to you. And he is your best friend.”

“What if he had reacted badly though?”

“Then you’d know not to tell him.” Myfanwy looked down, thinking.

“I kinda do want to tell him. He is my best friend, and I’m starting to think this is a permanent thing now. I like being called a girl, and I like my new name. Which means… I’ll have to tell him eventually.”

“You could tell someone else first. Maybe Lily, or James or Sirius. They’ve reacted well to me, and if you’re not as close to them as you are with Jethro, then it might not be as hard?”

“I think I’d want to tell Jethro first if I do tell him anything.”

“Well, it’s up to you. Take all the time you need, you don’t have to feel pressured to come out.”

“I know. But it would be nice to hear some other people use my new name and stuff.” She sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll support you whatever you choose to do.”

“I know. Thank you.”

Remus was woken up during the night by Sirius, nudging him lightly on the shoulder. He squinted at the figure, trying to work out who it was at first through the immediate grogginess.

“Sirius? What is it?”

“Sorry for waking you. I can’t sleep.”

“Oh?”

“I was wondering… .” He sat down on the side of the bed and leaned in so no one could catch him. “Do you wanna go for a walk?” Remus studied him for a second.

“A walk?” Sirius nodded. “Where?”

“Hogsmeade.”

“Hogsmeade?” By this point, Remus was just repeating everything he said, but with a question mark on the end. He didn’t even know what time it was. He went to look at the clock on his bedside table… one in the morning. Merlin’s beard.

“Why on Earth do you want to go to Hogsmeade at this time?”

“It’ll be dark and quiet. There won’t be anyone there, it’ll be nice. Please? We can borrow James’s invisibility cloak, he won’t mind.” Remus thought about it. It did sound slightly tempting, the same way sleeping in Sirius’s bed sounded tempting.

“How long for?” Remus asked, beginning to relent.

“Not too long. Half an hour maybe?” Remus lifted his legs from the covers and placed his feet on the carpet.

“Fine. Half an hour.” Sirius grinned, and the two went to James’s trunk to find the invisibility cloak. This was mad, thought Remus. But, on the other hand, it was also exciting. It was always exciting.

Chapter Text

The castle seemed quieter than usual. It was odd, since last time Remus had sneaked out with the others they hadn’t made a sound, but it still felt louder than it did now, with just him and Sirius alone under the invisibility cloak.

“You remember the spell to open the statue, don’t you?” Sirius asked in a low voice.

“Yeah, I do.” Their footsteps echoed lightly around the dungeon walls, the green glow from the windows guiding their way towards the statue.

“Dissendium,” said Remus when they reached it, pointing his wand at the witch’s arched back. It opened, the grinding sound of stone against stone making them both flinch. They took the invisibility cloak off, and Sirius balled it up and shoved it into his cloak pocket.

“After you,” he whispered. The passage was as dark as ever, but it felt scarier now it was just the two of them. Four wands had been more comforting than two, and their lighting wasn’t as good. But they continued to tiptoe down the damp corridor until they reached the end of the passage.

“I’ve just realised,” began Sirius, looking up at the trap door and voicing what Remus had also remembered as soon as they’d arrived. “We left the ladder upstairs.”

“D’you think just the two of us is enough?” Asked Remus. “You can stand on my shoulders and get the ladder when you’re up there.”

“Can you lift me up?” Remus shrugged.

“We’ll find out.” Sirius put his wand away, and tried to clamber onto Remus’s shoulders. He was quite heavy, but Remus was quite strong. Regardless of the morfosis potion helping to increase his strength, he liked to exercise his arms whenever he could. He tended to do it privately, late at night or early in the morning. Just push-ups mostly. He was self-conscious about his arms, worried that they looked too skinny. It was a fairly illogical concern, considering every boy his age looked basically the same, but the exercises helped offset his dysphoria, and to him that’s all that mattered.

Right now, he was glad he’d done it, because Sirius was able to sit comfortably on his shoulders and reach up just high enough to gradually open the trap door. It squeaked on its hinges, but Sirius held it tightly to ensure it wouldn’t crash to the ground.

“Right,” he muttered to himself, grabbing hold of the edges of the doorway and pulling himself up, using Remus as a platform. Remus grunted as he felt Sirius’s whole weight on him momentarily, and he could feel his legs start to buckle before Sirius managed to pull himself up in time.

“I’ll go get the ladder,” called down Sirius. “Stay there.”

“Where am I gonna go?” Replied Remus, but Sirius was already gone. A few moments later, with Remus tapping his foot on the ground nervously, he heard a shuffling noise and looked up to see Sirius awkwardly carrying the ladder. He lowered it down as carefully as he could.

The store room had barely changed since the last time Remus had been there, which had only been a few weeks ago, if that.

“There’s no one here is there?” Asked Remus. Sirius didn’t respond immediately. He was still listening out for any outside noises.

“I don’t think so,” he whispered back. “I haven’t heard anyone. Besides, once we’re out of the shop, we are allowed to just walk around. It is a village after all.”

“Yeah, adults are allowed to walk around. If anyone sees us they’ll send us straight back to Hogwarts.” Sirius waved his words away vaguely.

“We’ll be fine. We’ll go down near the clearing where the village ends. No one’ll notice us.” Remus agreed, and followed his friend out of the gloomy sweet shop into the empty streets outside. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance. Could’ve been a student’s owl, or a normal owl, but it sounded slightly mournful. The call echoed around the still night.

Sirius wasn’t saying anything at the moment. He was just walking beside Remus with his hands in his pocket, looking straight ahead. Remus was staring down at his shoes. The atmosphere wasn’t exactly awkward, it just felt like there was something unspoken between them. There was, to Remus at least. He wanted to ask Sirius about the other night, but he still didn’t know if he should even bring it up or not.

Turns out, he didn’t have to.

“Remus?” Sirius’s voice broke the silence.

“Yeah?”

“You know the other night,” he said. “When we were in bed and we… you know.”

“I remember.”

“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t think it meant anything.” Remus was quiet for a moment, confused at the sinking feeling in his chest. He knew it hadn’t meant anything, but a part of him still felt disappointed for some reason. Did he want it to mean something? Of course he didn’t…

“Er… yeah, I know. I know it didn’t mean anything.”

“I was tired, that’s all.”

“Right.” Sirius fell in step beside him again, the conversation having apparently ended. But Remus still felt unsatisfied by its conclusion. He didn’t want to say too much, but he was getting a little sick of Sirius’s constant vagueness. The boy never said what he truly felt, so Remus didn’t know if he could trust him or not. If he said the hand holding hadn’t meant anything, how did Remus know that was true?

“Are you sure it didn’t mean anything?” Remus asked, reluctantly. He didn’t want Sirius thinking he wanted it to mean anything.

“What? Of course it didn’t mean anything.”

“Well, why of course? Because you’ve kinda been sending me mixed signals.” Sirius stopped fairly abruptly, staring at Remus.

“Are you… trying to say I like you or something?” Remus was surprised at how horrified Sirius seemed to look.

“I’m not trying to say that, no–”

“Then what do you mean mixed signals? I’m not… I’m straight, Remus.”

“Okay, I’m not saying you’re not. But, like… if you were a h–”

“Just shut up.” Remus fell silent immediately. Sirius appeared to be genuinely angry, and Remus had no idea why. “Don’t even say it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with–”

“I said shut up!” He began walking ahead again, marching almost, towards whatever destination he had in mind. Remus had to jog to catch up.

“Sirius, why are you being so defensive?” Remus asked. Sirius’s jaw was firmly set, and he didn’t look like he was going to reply. But he stopped.

“We’re not talking about this anymore. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“I never said there was anything wrong with you. And why would liking me mean there was something wrong with you anyway?” Sirius finally faltered slightly.

“I didn’t mean it like that. There’s nothing wrong with liking you. I’m talking about… you know what I’m talking about.”

“Being a homosexual?” Sirius flinched.

“I’m not a homosexual. Please don’t think that, I’d hate if anyone thought that.”

“Why?” 

“Because my parents would kill me if that were the case. Literally kill me, and I’m hardly even exaggerating. So don’t even try and suggest that I’m… because I’m not.”

“Fine. But you don’t have to talk about it like it’s a terrible thing.”

“It would be terrible for me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it, though. If you think there’s something wrong with that, then you might think there’s something wrong with me.”

“I don’t. Although I don’t see why you’re so obsessed with it. Are you sure you don’t like me?” He said it accusingly almost. Remus didn’t like his tone of voice at all.

“No. I don’t.”

“Fine, then shut up about it.”

“Stop telling me to shut up, you’re being an arsehole.”

“No I’m not, you’re the one prying into my business. I just wanted a nice walk and–”

“That’s the thing! You’re getting all defensive about me asking if you’re… whatever, but what the hell do you expect? Holding my hand, asking me to walk with you at night, liking skirts and bracelets, I mean…” Remus trailed off. He may have gone a bit far with the last point. Sirius certainly seemed to think so.

“Just piss off,” Sirius spat. Remus blinked.

“I’m sorry, I–”

“Go back to Hogwarts. I don’t want to talk to you.” He stormed off into the night, and this time Remus didn’t follow.

Sirius wouldn’t talk to Remus the following day. He had returned late last night, way after Remus was able to keep his eyes open. Remus felt guilty at being asleep when Sirius finally returned, because he had been worrying, but he was equally as exhausted. Sirius must have gone to sleep at around three, maybe even four in the morning. As a result, he was pretty despondent during the day’s lessons.

“You feeling alright?” Asked James, noticing Sirius’s moodiness. Sirius nodded, but refused to elaborate. Remus wanted to apologise, but he didn’t want to get yelled at again, which he knew was pretty cowardly on his part. Then again, he still felt that maybe Sirius should apologise too; Remus wasn’t the only one who had been in the wrong. Yeah, it was shit of him to bring up Sirius liking feminine things as a way to accuse him of possibly being… not entirely straight. But Sirius had been the one to be so defensive in the first place. Remus hadn’t liked how Sirius had spoken to him at all.

So neither of them said anything to each other, which wasn’t easy when James and Peter didn’t know about their falling out. They would all be sat together in the common room, James and Peter rambling on about something, and Remus and Sirius would only half-heartedly join in, all the while avoiding eye contact with each other. On this particular day, James started talking about possibly the worst subject he could think of: girls.

“Do you think Evans likes me?” He began. Peter looked up from a drawing he was working on, laying front first on the floor beside the fire.

“In what way?”

“You know… like likes me.”

“Who cares?”

“Well… she’s pretty, don’t you think?” The boys all nodded.

“Yeah but do you want her to be your girlfriend or something?” Continued Peter. James shrugged.

“I wouldn’t be against it.”

“You’re wasting your time,” said Remus. “You two are barely friends.”

“We talk,” replied James defiantly. “And we get along fine. It’s just annoying that she hangs out with that Snape guy all the time.”

“Oh, Snape doesn’t bother us, who cares?”

“Because he hangs out with the people who do bother us. What does she want to be friends with a future death eater for?” Remus shrugged.

“She says he’s not like them.” James scoffed.

“Yeah sure, he just spends time with them accidentally I suppose.”

“I trust Lily. Just ignore Snape.”

“If anyone’s going to ask out Lily, it’s probably Remus,” interjected Peter. Remus looked at him.

“What makes you think that?”

“Well duh, you two talk all the time. You’re more friends with her than any of us.”

“Yeah but she’s just a friend, I don’t want to ask her out.” Remus ignored Sirius staring at the two of them. He didn’t want to know what Sirius was thinking.

“Do you have a crush on anyone?” James asked. Remus thought about it. He hadn’t noticed if he actually had a crush on anyone, but perhaps he should have thought about it before.

“Marlene’s cute,” he eventually decided.

“Really?” said James. Remus nodded. He realised then that he’d actually been paying more attention to Marlene recently. Her knowledge of punk was probably the main reason, which was laughable considering Remus had almost completely failed his endeavour to become more punk like his aunt. He still liked the music, but he definitely didn’t look the part. He liked his jumpers and his corduroy trousers too much. Sirius was still far more in tune to the style, and was probably more a match for Marlene than him.

“I like her,” continued Remus. “I mean, I haven’t spoken to her that much, but she’s funny.”

“Yeah I like her,” said James. “I don’t think we’d be very good together though. We did our homework together once and neither of us got anything done. She hates reading and I can’t focus so we just messed about. Madam Pince wasn’t very happy.”

“I could ask out Marlene,” interrupted Sirius, who had so far been fairly quiet. “We get along well.”

“You can’t both ask out Marlene,” said James.

“I’m not going to ask out Marlene,” continued Remus. “Sirius can if he wants, I don’t care.” It came out a little harshly, but he had sort of intended it to. Did Sirius actually want to ask Marlene out? He’d never given any indication. At least with James, it was pretty obvious by the way he stared at Lily so much. Sirius on the other hand barely looked at anyone. Remus felt like he was just making a point.

“Do you think she’d say yes?” asked Sirius.

“Only one way to find out,” replied James. Sirius looked like he was thinking about it. Remus felt inexplicably annoyed by the whole thing, but he was also curious to see what would happen.

The boys soon dispersed to get ready for bed, and James caught up with him alone.

“Hey, are you and Sirius okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, we’re fine. Why?”

“I just noticed some tension between you two, that’s all.” James had once been in potions class when a cauldron across the room exploded with an incredibly loud bang. He hadn’t even flinched because he’d been so deep in thought about something. He hadn’t even noticed an explosion in the same room as him, and yet this is what he noticed.

“We had a bit of an argument,” conceded Remus. “But it’s fine, I promise.” James looked a little unconvinced, but he just shrugged and went upstairs.

Remus stayed awake for quite a while. He didn’t want to fall out with Sirius, and part of it had been his fault. Maybe most of it had. He needed to just get over himself and apologise, regardless of whether Sirius would accept it or not. He sighed, and turned over to drag himself out of bed. The dorm room was dark, and quiet, save for the snoring coming from Peter’s side of the room. Remus lightly pulled open the curtains on Sirius’s bed. Sirius wasn’t sleeping either.

“Wanna go for a walk?” whispered Remus. Sirius remained expressionless, although seemingly unsurprised that Remus was still awake.

“What for?” he asked.

“To talk. I want to apologise.” Sirius thought for a moment.

“Fine,” he said eventually and got up. So far so good, although Remus didn’t know why Sirius had to act like he was completely in the right here, because he wasn’t. But Remus didn’t say anything yet. They needed to at least get out of the castle first.

The map wasn’t needed this time, they already knew the route pretty well by now, and the cloak was enough to get them by without being caught.

The village was as quiet as always, with not even an owl hooting its solemn lament. Remus and Sirius walked in silence at first, like they had done the other night. It was up to one of them to break it, and this time Remus was forced to take the fall.

“I’m sorry about what I said. About you liking skirts and stuff, I didn’t mean to bring that up.”

“You weren’t wrong though, were you? Of course people are gonna start thinking I’m queer or something if I like skirts and shit.”

“So what, though? I mean, yeah I know your parents will mind, but you're not at home.”

“No, but I’m surrounded by students whose families know mine. Word will start getting around.”

“They’re all the way in Slytherin, they don’t have to know. You can be yourself around me and the others.” Sirius kicked a stone in front of him. It skidded off into the distance.

“Whatever,” he sighed. “I’ve been acting like an idiot.” Remus didn’t know exactly what he was referring to, so he couldn’t confirm either way.

“I’m sorry for being so defensive,” Sirius continued. “I know there’s nothing wrong with being homosexual, that’s not what I meant. I just can’t have anyone thinking I’m one.”

“Alright. I get it. I won’t ask again.”

“Can’t we just do things and still be friends? Why does holding hands have to mean anything? I like being close to you because no one’s ever been close to me before. Like, I like hugging and stuff. It’s nice.”

“Then that’s okay. We can hug. It won’t mean anything.” His last statement felt like a lie, although he was determined for that not to be the case. But once again he felt that burst of excitement in his chest, brief but noticeable. He had been worried that the other night had ruined his close relationship with Sirius, so Sirius confirming otherwise made his heart skip slightly. Consequently, it forced him to once again ponder why that was.

Sirius may not have been homosexual, but Remus didn’t know if he could say the same about himself…

But he thought of Marlene, and he realised that he genuinely did like her, and he didn’t think he’d mind at all if she wanted to be his girlfriend. He’d probably need to get to know her more before he decided if he had a genuine crush on her, but he certainly didn’t dislike the thought of being with a girl.

It was just… the only reason he disliked the thought of being with a boy was because he was forcing himself to dislike it. People already didn’t accept transgender people, but if he was a homosexual too? He couldn’t have that, all he’d be doing for the rest of his life was hiding, and now he was starting to understand why Sirius was so scared at the idea of not being straight. Remus hadn’t even entertained the possibility so he hadn’t realised that he too was terrified of it.

Maybe he would ask out Marlene. He needed some closure, and he was sick of being confused all the time. If he could just make sure that definitely liked Marlene in a girlfriend way, then that would surely confirm that he was straight, and his worries could be put aside.

As long as he didn’t get the same feeling with Marlene as he did with Sirius, otherwise he’d be even more confused than before.

Before Remus could even think of asking anyone out, the Christmas holidays were almost upon them. He was going home of course, since he wanted to spend the holidays with his mum. The others were all staying, except for Myfanwy and Jethro. Myfanwy was nervous about going home.

“Do you think my family will notice?”

“Notice what?”

“That… well, you know.”

“I’m sure they won’t. Your hair’s a little longer but that’s about it.” Myfanwy sighed.

“I hate thinking about how I’m probably never going to tell them.”

“Not even Anwen?”

“I don’t know. If I do tell anyone in my family, it’ll be her. But we’re not actually that close and she’s got a big mouth on her.”

“I didn’t know you weren’t close. You’re twins aren’t you?”

“Yeah, so? We’re not identical or anything, and she’s just too different from me. I mean, when have you actually seen us speaking with each other?” Remus thought about it.

”Hardly at all.”

”Exactly.”

“Alright fine, but... is she supportive at least?”

“I guess? But I’ve never had to tell her anything like this before.” Remus didn’t really know what to say, because he didn’t think anything could be a comfort. He couldn’t say “you don’t have to tell her” because Myfanwy knew that already, but the point was she wanted to tell her. She just couldn’t.

“What about Jethro, are you thinking about telling him?”

“I am actually. I was thinking I might tell him over the holidays, but I’m terrified. Like, I know he was okay with you, but that doesn’t mean he’ll be okay with me.”

“Well, at least if you tell him over the holidays and he’s not okay with it right away, you’ll still have time to talk to him before coming back to Hogwarts. That’s what happened with me and Peter.”

“Maybe. I’ll see what I decide. I just don’t want him to hate me.”

“Well, if he does, I’m getting pretty good at duelling. So you know who to call.” Myfanwy laughed lightly.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Either way, I’ll definitely write to you if I tell him.”

“If you do, I hope he takes it well.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Chapter Text

Remus knew his mum wouldn’t be looking her best when he saw her, but he hadn’t expected just how ill she was starting to look. It was difficult to see a person’s state when talking to them through the fireplace, so she had taken Remus by surprise when he arrived back at home. Lyall had picked him up alone, saying that Hope was resting. Remus was briefly disappointed not to see her waiting for him at the platform, but he was glad she was resting at least. Anything to get her better was worth it.

But she didn’t seem to be getting better at all. Her skin was pale, and had a slight yellow tinge to it. She looked weak, fragile, as if one touch could break her. It scared him. His mum had always been so strong, so dependable. Seeing her like this almost made him angry. He didn’t know why, but it just felt wrong. Like it wasn’t possible for her to be this ill, so he didn’t trust what he was seeing.

She hugged him in greeting as soon as he returned and stirred her from her sleep on the sofa.

“Cariad! Come here, let me look at you properly.” She held him at arm’s length, smiling. “I swear you get taller every time I see you.” She hugged him again. Remus was fairly quiet, replying as little as possible. After chatting with her endlessly over the past few months at Hogwarts, he now had nothing to say. He felt nervous hugging her in case he hurt her, and he didn’t know how to pretend that nothing was wrong.

He excused himself to his room as quickly as he could. He didn’t know much about liver disease, or liver failure. He should have found some books about it in the library, but he was too scared to be told something he didn’t want to hear. But the reality was standing right in front of him, and Remus was forced to entertain the question he’d been dreading: was his mum actually going to get better?

The house felt different, it felt… quieter. Everything was still in its place, even more so since Lyall’s stuff had been returned once he moved back in. In fact, under any normal circumstances, Remus would be ecstatic by the idea that not only was all his dad’s stuff back where it belonged, but there was no arguing between his parents anymore either. It was as if all of their problems had been solved with the wave of a wand. But it was superficial, all of it. A sheet placed over a pile of rubbish. Because their problems hadn’t been solved at all; they were instead far worse. If this is what it took for Remus’s parents to coexist in harmony, then Remus didn’t want it.

Hope wasn’t able to do much. She mostly just slept while Lyall did the housework. Remus stayed away from the house as much as he could, because he couldn’t handle the constant reminder that his mum had turned into a ticking time bomb, just waiting to explode at at any given moment and destroy everything in its wake. Remus was directly in the crossfire, and he tried desperately to put as much space between him and his mum as he could, which he hated doing. He felt like the worst person alive, keeping away from his own mother, who needed him around now more than ever. But he just couldn’t do it. He had to keep his distance.

He spent most of his time in the village, chatting aimlessly to Mrs Bethan, attempting to make conversation with her unsmiling daughter. Otherwise, he’d simply walk around, exploring every nook and cranny he could find, distracting himself from the thought of home by learning every inch of the area he lived in. He enjoyed the clearing of trees behind the main village shops, leading down a row of large residential houses. It wasn’t exactly a forest, but Remus was still hidden from view if he stuck to the middle of it. He got into a habit of collecting leaves and rocks and acorns, for no reason except to put them in his pocket and line them all up in his room on shelves and his desk and his bedside table. His room became a deconstructed forest within a week.

When he wasn’t exploring the town, he was sitting around and eavesdropping on people’s conversations. The benefit of being able to understand Welsh was when he caught conversations that clearly didn’t want to be overheard, so the two participants had switched to a language they were convinced no one else around them understood, amongst all the tourists who had been attracted by winter markets and the residents who didn’t speak Welsh in the first place. Remus picked up some particularly juicy gossip on these occasions, mostly about someone cheating on someone else or some illegitimate baby. His neighbours were obsessed with kids born out of wedlock. He found it weird.

However, there was one conversation he caught that he wished he hadn’t, made worse by the fact that one of the participants was Mrs Bethan. She was talking to the shopkeeper of the neighbouring café beside her bakery and they didn’t notice Remus listening from just around the corner. His ears pricked up when his mother’s name was mentioned.

“Liver failure, that’s right,” he heard Mrs Bethan say. “Terrible, isn’t it?”

“I had an uncle die from liver failure,” replied the shopkeeper, whom Remus knew to be named Sheila something. “How long do you think she has left?”

“Oh, you mustn't talk like that! It’s morbid.”

“I know, but I’m only stating facts. You can’t survive liver failure.”

“Are you sure? I thought they’d started working out how to transplant organs, you know, all the scientists?”

“Oh I don’t know any of that new fangled medical stuff, all I know is there was nothing they could do for my uncle.”

“That poor family,” Mrs Bethan sighed. “Especially the boy, I know how close he is to his mother.”

“Is he? Poor lad.”

“Oh yes, always taking care of her. Doesn’t have a choice I suppose, his father’s hardly there so I’ve heard.”

“A mummy’s boy with no father? You know what they say about lads like that…”

“Sheila, please. Leave the boy alone, I imagine the family’s going through hell at the moment.”

Remus didn’t hear anything else. He walked away, his breathing unsteady. He felt sick. People didn’t survive liver failure. Did the whole village think his mum was going to die? Is that all they were doing, counting down the days until she bit the dust? He wanted to cry, mostly out of anger but his situation had finally hit home. Gossip or not, bastards the lot of them, if they all thought his mum was going to die they couldn’t all be wrong, could they?

He started running, running home as fast as he could. He’d been an idiot, staying away from his mum. He didn’t know how long she had left, and here he was wasting his time listening to people’s conversations and collecting fucking acorns. He furiously wiped away his tears with the back of his arm, determined not to start crying while he was still out in public.

Remus reached his front door and took a few moments to catch his breath. He probably looked a wreck and the last thing he wanted was questions thrown at him by his dad. He sniffed once and made his way up the path.

“I’m back,” he called. He could smell his dad cooking from the kitchen, bolognese or something.

“How was the village?” Lyall asked as Remus entered the kitchen for a glass of water.

“Fine.”

“Dinner’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

“Mm.”

“You alright? You seem a bit preoccupied.”

“It’s nothing. I’m just tired.” Remus left the kitchen with the glass of water. He went upstairs and knocked softly on his mum’s bedroom door. She didn’t reply, and the lights were off. She was only sleeping, but Remus’s heartbeat quickened as he approached, the idea of her not waking up…

She opened her eyes as Remus nudged her gently awake.

“Bought you some water, mam.”

“Thank you.” She blinked, and stared at the glass on her table as if she didn’t quite register it was there. “What time is it?”

“Six. Dinner’ll be ready soon.”

“I’d better come down then.”

“Are you sure? If you need more sleep…”

“I’ve slept enough. Don’t you worry about me.” She had no idea. Remus didn’t think he could possibly stop worrying, not now. He really needed to find out exactly what liver failure was, but his ignorance seemed to be the only thing keeping him afloat by this point, the hope that his mum would one day get better was all that was keeping him from breaking down. Even with the punch of reality thrown by Mrs Bethan and Sheila, he still couldn’t help but insist that they didn’t know what they were talking about. That people did survive liver failure, and his mum would be one of them. If he ever looked in a book and was told otherwise, he didn’t know what he’d do.

Dinner was subdued, only because Remus couldn’t focus on anything outside of his own thoughts. His parents were conversing amiably, but he didn’t take in a word of it.

“Don’t play with your food, Remus,” said Lyall, noticing how Remus was pushing the spaghetti around his plate mindlessly. Remus took a mouthful and instantly felt like spitting it out. He wasn’t hungry at all.

“Can I be excused?” He asked eventually, his plate only half finished.

“You haven’t finished your dinner.”

“I’m not that hungry.”

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Asked Hope, noticing his solemn mood.

“I’m fine, I just want to go to bed. I had a long day.”

“Alright,” conceded Lyall. “You can go.” Remus’s chair scraped along the floor and he disappeared into his room.

It was an hour later when Hope quietly opened his door to check on him. He was lying on his bed, front-first, staring out of the window next to him. Hope noticed he wasn’t asleep and wandered over.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked, sitting down on the bed beside him and resting her hand on his shoulder. He wanted to reiterate his insistence that he was fine, but he didn’t want to hide things from her anymore.

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I was in town today and I overheard Mrs Bethan talking about you with Sheila.”

“Sheila from the café?” Remus nodded. “What were they saying?” Remus didn’t know how to tell her. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her, but he also wanted her familiar reassurance.

“They said… well, Sheila said she had an uncle die from liver failure and… mam?” He looked up at her, and he knew she could see he was trying not to cry. “You’re not going to die are you?”

Hope looked out of the window, staying silent for longer than Remus was comfortable with. Eventually, she cleared her throat.

“I’m going to try not to,” she said softly. “But, Remus…” she sighed, beginning a conversation she’d clearly wanted to put off. She got up from the bed and knelt down in front of him, holding his hand in hers. All signs that scared him.

“Sweetheart. Whatever happens, I just want you to know that I love you so much.”

“Mam–” she shook her head before he could continue.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, and it’s terrifying. And normally I’d say, I need you to be strong, and I do, for your sake. But along with that, when times get hard please talk to me, okay? You’re so quick to bottle your feelings up, and it’s not good for you. You need to share things, and I want to be there for you. To help you.”

“I know. And I promise I’ll tell you everything but… you have to promise you’ll always be there.” She smiled sadly.

“I promise.” She stroked his hair. “You’re growing up so quickly. It feels like yesterday you were just a little boy. You’re nearly a man now.”

“Hardly. I still cry like a baby all the time.” He laughed lightly, but tears still grazed his eyelashes and he quickly wiped them away.

“I just don’t want any of this to… hurt you. You already worry enough.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind worrying about you.”

“I mind.”

“Then it appears we have reached an impasse.” She smiled and bent forward to kiss his forehead.

“Try and get some sleep, yeah?” He nodded and she stood up to leave the room. “Goodnight.”

“Night.” The light switched off, but Remus didn’t sleep. He saw the sun start to rise in the early hours of the morning, and he gazed at it as his focus remained miles away.

Christmas day had to be spent in the hospital, with Hope hooked up to the dialysis machine. The day was about as cheery as a hospital visit could be, because at least the rest of the family had arrived. Selene was there to bring her usual optimism to everyone around, and Remus spent as much time in her presence as he could, hoping her cheerfulness may rub off on him. It didn’t. But he still wanted to talk to her, privately, about a matter away from his mum and onto something that was forced to the back of his mind since he’d been back home. The conversation between Mrs Bethan and Sheila had brought it temporarily to the surface, and Selene seemed like the only person he could talk to about it.

“Selene?”

“Remus.”

“Can I talk to you about something?”

”Of course, go ahead.”

”It’s just... I heard these two neighbours talking about me and mum behind my back the other day.”

“Busybodies,” she scoffed. “What were they saying?”

“Well, some stuff about her being ill but… they also called me a mummy’s boy, and said dad wasn’t around enough, and then they were like… you know what they say about boys who are close to their mum.”

“What do they say?”

“Oh come on, even I know what they say! You obviously know.” Selene didn’t respond. She just indicated for Remus to follow her outside so she could smoke. Only when they’d moved away from the front doors and Selene had lit up a cigarette did she continue.

“So… what? You’re saying the village is suspecting you’re… how should I say this? Batting for the other team.”

“You can just say it, you know.”

“Oo-er, I know that, I am gay myself after all. I just thought you’d be a bit funny about it.”

“It’s not like there’s anything wrong with it and besides… I’m trans. It’s not like this sort of stuff is new.”

“So, you don’t mind the village thinking you’re gay?”

“No, of course I mind. They’re gossiping about me behind my back. I’m just saying… well, I’m not sure what I’m saying actually.”

“Well… is there any truth in what they’re saying?” Trust Selene to always get to the point. Remus hesitated.

“I… don’t know.” Selene just nodded.

“That’s alright,” she said. “You’re only thirteen, you don’t have to know. I didn’t know till I was, what, twenty? Probably older actually.”

“What made you realise?”

“Met a girl, realised she was really fit and the rest is history.” Remus rolled his eyes, although he was sure there was some truth in that. His aunt’s entire life just seemed effortless to him, so he could certainly imagine that her realisation of being gay was no different.

“Was it really that simple?” She studied him for a moment, and probably realised that he needed a bit more help than a quick comeback. She took one last drag on her cigarette before throwing it to the ground and pressing it down with her shoe.

“No. It wasn’t. This was in the late fifties, so homosexuality was about as taboo as it could possibly be, and that was just for the men. Ain’t nobody had heard of women being gay at that point so Merlin knows how I even managed to come to the conclusion that I liked women. It was a bloody nightmare.”

“How?”

“It’s not easy working out who you are when you don’t have any examples to go off. If you don’t think anyone else like you exists, then how can you possibly exist? I’m sure you’re familiar with that feeling.” Remus looked at his shoes, and nodded. Selene continued:

“Only when it hits you smack in the face can you finally figure it out. And for me, that was a very pretty woman named Annie, who I haven’t actually spoken to for years now.”

“But you’re with Rosie now, aren’t you?”

“Yup.” She smiled, as if just the thought of Rosie made her happy. Remus felt like he understood, which was the reason for his current predicament. Selene lit another cigarette.

“Listen, mate, point is: if you’re gay then congrats. If you’re not, congrats. It’s not a death sentence, either way, at least not in my experience.”

“You’re not trans as well, though.”

“That’s true. But like being trans, you can’t change who you’re attracted to, so try not to be scared of it, yeah?”

“I’ll try.” She ruffled his hair, and he went back inside the hospital to sit with his mum. While she was sleeping, he drew her a Christmas card and placed it beside her bedside table. It took him around half an hour, trying to perfect it, and he wasn’t exactly the best artist. He needed Peter on hand, ideally. His dad was talking to a doctor away from the room and his grandparents were getting something to eat, so Remus and his mum were on their own for a bit. Once he finished the card, he spent the remaining day sitting next to her bed on a chair that looked comfy, but was as hard as concrete. He didn’t mind, and at least his uncle Tom and aunt Selene bought enough presents from home to keep them entertained. Remus was already halfway through a new book when Hope started waking up again and joining in. Uncle Tom had brought some Christmas crackers (muggle ones, since the nurses probably wouldn’t have been happy with the explosive nature of the wizarding ones). They were all wearing flimsy paper crowns by the end of the day; Remus had two on, green and purple.

For once, for a few hours, everything seemed okay. Remus finally felt optimistic that his mum would get better after all, and prove everyone in the village wrong. This was only temporary, he thought, laughing at his uncle’s abysmal charade attempt. Tom was trying to mime Chitty Chitty Bang Bang but he couldn’t figure out what rhymed with Chitty, at least nothing that was appropriate enough to say in front of his elderly parents and his thirteen year old nephew. He settled on miming an explosion for ‘Bang’ and hoped that someone would connect the dots. It took a while, but it made everyone laugh at least.

Remus didn’t notice the permanently worried expression on his dad’s face that Lyall was trying desperately to hide.

Chapter Text

By Boxing Day, Hope insisted that Remus went home and got some sleep. She said Lyall would be going home as well, so at least Remus could stay in his own bedroom this time, rather than go all the way to his grandparents’ house. He liked his grandparents’ house, but when his mum was in hospital, it felt too quiet. Too different. When his mum was in hospital, he liked the familiarity of his bedroom.

Lyall got straight to making dinner when they returned. He didn’t talk much, and the rest of the family had already left, so Remus didn’t have anything to do. He went upstairs hoping there’d be letters from his friends waiting for him. He smiled when he entered the room and saw a respectable pile of envelopes and parcels littering his desk, and a very irritated Arianrhod who wasn’t pleased about the constant disruption from other owls.

Remus sat at his desk and began opening the letters. They were mostly just Christmas cards, and detailed letters from James and Sirius about what they’d been up to at Hogwarts. Apparently Sirius had tried to charm the Christmas trees in the Great Hall to spin slowly around. He actually managed it, but the “slowly” part had accidentally been left out, so what really happened was a tsunami of baubles and tinsel flying around the room. Everyone had to be evacuated until a teacher could get the trees to stop, and Sirius was now spending the rest of the holidays in detention. Sirius’s letter didn’t seem to hold any resentment of this at all, and he proudly described the event in detail, laughing about the sight of the Slytherins charging out of the Great Hall with their heads covered.

Remus picked up Myfanwy’s envelope, which felt bulkier than the others. It contained a Christmas card, as well as an actual letter:

Dear Remus,
I told Jethro! I told him just before Christmas and I was so nervous, but it actually went okay! I mean, it took him some time to get used to the idea and I’m not sure he quite believed me at first. But he didn’t hate me or anything and we’re still friends! This feels amazing, I can’t believe I actually did it. And now he can call me Myfanwy too. I’m sort of panicking, but in a good way? I’m not sure, I don’t know how to feel right now, but I do know I’m happy.

Anyway, I suppose that’s it, I’ll talk to you properly when we return to Hogwarts. Happy Christmas!

Myfanwy

Remus could feel himself grinning by the end of the letter, proud as he was of Myfanwy coming out to Jethro, as well as extremely happy that it had gone well. He couldn’t wait to see her now, and immediately went searching for paper in order to reply back. He wanted to reply back to Sirius and James as well, and all his other friends, but he only had time for one letter before dinner. He stuck with Myfanwy, and decided to finish the rest after he’d eaten.

Dinner was a subdued affair, but for once Remus had no idea why. He wasn’t in a bad mood himself, and his dad didn’t seem to be in one either. Lyall was just… somewhere else. Remus had to call to him twice before getting his attention.

“Are you alright?” Remus asked. Lyall nodded and smiled a reassuring smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“I’m fine, sorry. I’m just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Oh, nothing important. Don’t worry about it.” Remus tried not to, and soon went back to thinking about his own stuff; his letters to his friends. Myfanwy’s letter had cheered him up so much that he wasn’t very perceptive to his father. He believed Lyall’s excuses without question.

Perhaps it was a subconscious preservation thing. There was obviously something going on, and if Remus had connected the dots to his father’s mood originating from him talking to the doctors at the hospital, Remus would have been far more concerned than he was. But he had already worried enough, and for once he could just think about something that made him happy. He could think about his friends, and replying to their letters, and everything else was okay. He could worry about why his father was acting preoccupied another time. Right now, he needed this. He needed the break.

The break lasted until the end of the holidays, when Lyall could no longer put off telling Remus what the doctors said about Hope. The beginning of term was in a few days, and Remus was returning from the village with pocketfuls of acorns. He tended to avoid the shops now, self-conscious that everyone was scrutinising him behind his back. He hadn’t visited Mrs Bethan since the day he overheard her gossiping to Sheila.

When Remus opened the front door, he met Lyall in the sitting room, waiting for him.

“How was the village?” Asked Lyall, procrastinating until the last minute.

“Empty. It’s too cold for everyone.”

“You weren’t too cold, were you?”

“No, I had my coat.” Remus was heading towards the stairs to his room, but his dad stopped him.

“Could you come here for a moment, Remus?” said Lyall. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“O–kay?” Remus looked at his father suspiciously as he wandered into the living room, hands in his pockets as he fiddled with the acorns. It was always tempting to pry their hats off them, even though he liked how they looked with them on. Lyall sat down on the sofa, and Remus followed suit, on the opposing armchair. He didn’t like how nervous his dad looked, not looking him quite in the eye and struggling to keep his hands still.

“What’s going on?” prompted Remus. Lyall finally looked at him, and composed himself.

“It’s your mother–” Remus immediately straightened up, about to say something, but Lyall held up a hand to stop him.

“She’s okay at the moment, don’t worry.” Remus breathed a tentative sigh of relief. She had been sleeping upstairs when he left for the village, but anything could have happened within the hour.

“What about her?”

“We… we need to talk about the future,” said Lyall. “I talked to the doctor, when she was in hospital and…”

“Is she going to be okay?” Remus was well-aware of his breathing. This whole conversation was a huge red flag, and he didn’t like where it was going. The future? Why did they need to talk about it? And why did his dad look so reluctant?

“Listen, as long as the dialysis machine works, she’ll be okay. But… there’s no guarantee it’s going to work forever. In fact, it probably won’t work forever.”

“But… there’s other options, right?”

“The only other option is a liver transplant, and according to the doctor, it couldn’t be more difficult to get a donor if it tried. Besides, transplanting organs is still so new in the muggle world. The whole thing’s uncertain.” Remus was definitely breathing heavily right now, and he was holding back the one question that stayed firm on the tip of his tongue. What would happen if she can’t have a liver transplant?

“Well, can they find a donor?” Lyall shrugged.

“Not only are there hardly any donors, but even if they do find a liver, Hope’s body might reject it.”

“Why aren’t there any donors?” Remus’s voice was getting slightly high-pitched as he was getting more and more worked up by the conversation. Lyall noticed and tried to calm him down, to little effect.

“This is only if worse comes to worse, the dialysis machine could be sufficient enough for a while.”

“But if it’s not?”

“Then they might find a donor. There aren’t many at the moment, but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

“Dad?”

“Yes?”

“If the dialysis stops working, and the doctors can’t find a transplant… what will happen to her?” He had to ask, but judging by Lyall’s hesitation, he didn’t want to know the answer.

“Let’s not think that far ahead–”

“Is she going to die?” Remus was crying now. He wasn’t trying to hide it. Every way you looked at it, no matter what happened, his mum wasn’t going to get better. Lyall didn’t immediately deny Remus’s question, which gave him all the answers he needed. He stood up from the sofa before his dad had a chance to call him back and went upstairs.

Hope was sitting up in bed, reading, waiting for Remus to come in. She must have known about the conversation, and immediately held an arm out for him when she saw his tear-streaked face. Remus walked over and cuddled up beside her, terrified at the thought of one day not being able to hold her ever again. She was so comforting, so dependable, and Remus didn’t know what he’d do without her.

“Please don’t die,” he murmured. Hope stroked his hair like she had done when he was a kid and needed her reassurance, but she didn’t say anything at first. She couldn’t promise something that wasn’t guaranteed.

“You know, even if I’m not here with you physically,” she began. “I’ll always be with you when you need me. I can promise you that.”

“Don’t promise that,” he said. “Don’t promise that like you’re going to die. You’re going to be fine.” His voice was muffled, but determined nonetheless. His mum wasn’t like anyone else. She had fight in her yet, a stubbornness that her whole family possessed. She had always supported Remus even when no one else did, refusing the possibility that her son wouldn’t have a normal life. She had homeschooled him, stood up for him against anyone who disapproved and she had never let him down. She wasn’t going to let him down this time, Remus was sure of it.

Remus didn’t want to return to Hogwarts. He didn’t want to leave his mum, and he didn’t feel like seeing anyone. Not even Sirius. Not even Myfanwy. But his parents wouldn’t let him stay, and within a few days he was sitting on the train, staring out through the window and ignoring everyone around him. Myfanwy attempted to start up a conversation as soon as she saw him, excited as she was, but soon faced the same distance from Remus as everyone else had. She left him alone, and Remus didn’t have the energy to feel bad for giving her the cold shoulder when she was so ecstatic about coming out to Jethro. He was the only person she could talk to after all.

His other friends, James and Sirius and Peter and Lily, could see something was wrong, but after a while of failed prompting, they soon gave up and left him on his own. They were now quite familiar with how to deal with Remus when he was in this mood, and usually it involved giving him space to think until he decided to interact with the world again. They expected him to be okay by the morning, and perhaps give them some sort of explanation for what was bothering him, but it didn’t work like that this time. He remained surrounded by a dark cloud for longer than his friends were willing to overlook. He barely spoke, and he barely ate. The eating thing was a big problem, because it made him pretty weak, especially before the full moon. He didn’t know how to deal with the full moon right now, but he didn’t have a choice. He was angry and restless and everyone around him got the brunt of it. He didn’t want anyone to shout at him for it, because he’d probably end up wanting to punch them, and there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t. Controlling his emotions was hard enough as it was around a full moon, but with his mother’s condition weighing so heavily on his back, he was forced to keep away from everyone. He hid out at the edge of the woods whenever he wasn’t in class, and when he was in class he kept his head down until the bell rang.

His friends were getting worried, but he didn’t stick around long enough to notice. He did notice when they followed behind him on the night of the full moon underneath James’s cloak, clearly shadowing him out of concern, but it made him even more furious. They could hide from anyone under the cloak, but not Remus. He could always hear their footsteps, sense their presence, and he knew them too well anyway. They reached the Whomping Willow and Remus turned around on his heel in a flash and marched over to where he knew they were standing. They didn’t have a chance to run before Remus had pulled the cloak off them.

“Go back to bed,” he ordered, sternly.

“How did you know we were here?” asked James.

“I’m a werewolf, aren’t I? I could hear you. Now get lost.”

“Are you alright?” Sirius questioned, ignoring Remus’s demands. “You’ve been avoiding us.”

“I said, get lost. I’m not a kid, you don’t have to follow me around.”

“Yeah but–”

“Oh bugger off!” He stormed away from them towards the tree, already feeling the familiar itch underneath his clothes as the moonlight shone against his back. He didn’t know if the others were still behind him or not, and he didn’t care. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?

He didn’t want to be alone. He desperately didn’t want to transform, more so than any other time. He didn’t want to have to leave the castle, to black out for an entire night where he couldn’t contact home. What if something happened while he was in his wolf form? He’d never forgive himself if something happened to his mum and he wasn’t there to see her. What if she collapsed again, and this was her last night and Remus couldn’t even say goodbye because he was howling away in a wooden fucking shack?

He shouldn’t transform in anger, because Merlin knows how it would affect his wolf form. The last thing he needed right now was to go on a rampage and wake up to deal with the consequences. He tried to calm down, but all that did was make him want to cry. All he could hope for was being too weak from lack of food for his wolf form to do any damage.

On the following morning, as the sunlight streamed through the window, Remus lay there on the floor with his eyes firmly shut. A part of him just wanted to stay where he was, protected from the entire outside world. The Shack was like a different universe entirely, that no one– not even his friends– dared enter, and at a time like this, Remus found it comforting.
But he had to return to Hogwarts, if only to make sure nothing had happened while he’d been away. Madam Pomfrey was waiting for him as usual, and she immediately put him at ease as he arrived out from the tree’s tunnel. His heart had been pounding anxiously in his chest, but her usual look of concern as she examined any cuts and scrapes confirmed that everything was still okay. If anything had happened, it surely would have been the first thing out of Madam Pomfrey’s mouth.

Remus didn’t apologise to his friends about how he’d spoken to them, and their patience with him was wearing thin. They didn’t know, of course, how bad the situation was with Remus’s mother, so they were under the impression that Remus was being deliberately antagonistic.

Then again, that wasn’t usually Remus’s style. James tried to speak to him.

“Is everything alright with you?” he asked before lunch that day. “Ever since you came back from the holidays, you’ve been… in a mood. Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened,” replied Remus curtly. “It’s just the full moon, that’s all.”

“But you’re not this irritable around a full moon. You’re barely even talking to us, and when you do it’s like we’re annoying you.”

“I just want to be alone right now, alright?” Remus turned to leave, but James grabbed his arm to hold him back.

“Is your mum alright?” Remus searched his eyes, and James seemed nothing more than worried for his friend, but Remus took it the wrong way. He didn’t think anyone had the right to remind him of his mum, and he didn’t want anyone talking about her at all.

“She’s fine,” he muttered, glaring at his friend. “Just let me go.” Remus marched off to the library, skipping lunch entirely and not leaving until he’d calmed down enough. His friends avoided him after this, giving up on trying to talk to him, and angry at how he was treating them. Ordinarily, he’d feel guilty for how he was acting, but he had bigger problems on his mind than hurting his friends’ feelings.

In the evening, Remus returned to his pre-holiday routine of sitting in front of the fire to get updates on his mother, and he was far more anxious now than he used to be. Before, he had denied completely that anything was truly wrong with her, confident enough that she’d get better eventually. Now he knew this was just wishful thinking, and he couldn’t let a day go by without speaking to her. Every day really did feel like the last time he’d ever see her, and he never slept anymore. He didn’t think he’d ever felt more scared in his life, and he wished his friends could understand that.

But they couldn’t understand it if all he did was shut them out, or yell at them. He hated this. His mother was miles away, at risk of deteriorating any second. Every day could have been her last, and Remus would never know. He was pushing his friends away from him, so now he was alone and trapped and frightened. There was a constant lump in his throat, threatening tears at any moment, and he didn’t feel like facing school. He just wanted to sit by the fire, all day. He couldn’t stay in bed, because his thoughts would swirl around and suffocate him, but he couldn’t distract himself because then he’d feel bad about not thinking of his mum every second of the day.

He just wanted to go home.

Sirius didn’t sit up with him anymore. Sirius must have known by now that Remus was still getting updates, but perhaps he was trying to keep his distance. Remus didn’t know if Sirius was angry or scared of him, but he was starting to feel bad, which did nothing to improve his mood. He should have apologised to James, he should have apologised to all of them, but avoiding them was so much easier. Unfortunately, his friends had other ideas.

Remus was under an arch in the courtyard, a few days after the full moon, having once again skipped lunch. He didn’t feel hungry anymore, and he couldn’t face the thought of sitting in the Great Hall with all of those people sitting around him, shouting over his head. The courtyard was quiet, and he could try and focus on whatever he was reading.

A shadow loomed over him and he looked up. James, Sirius and Peter were standing there, watching him expectantly.

“What?” said Remus, disinterestedly.

“We’re intervening,” replied James. “You’re acting like you don’t even like us anymore.” Remus put his book down.

“Of course I like you, I’m just not in the mood.”

“Not in the mood for what? To be our friend? That’s not fair.”

“You wouldn’t understand…”

“Then tell us,” continued Sirius. “You haven’t given us any reason for why you’re acting like this, and don’t pretend there isn’t one. This isn’t like you.” Remus didn’t want to talk about his mother. He didn’t want people giving him or her any pity. He wanted to deal with it himself, but he was starting to see that this simply wasn’t an option. He stood up to face them, but he shouldn’t have stood up so quickly. Blood rushed to his head and he stumbled slightly, only just managing to balance himself on the archway. James– who was closest to him– instinctively held out his hand.

“You alright?” Remus didn’t say anything. He felt dizzy, and his vision was slightly tunnelling. With a sickening feeling, he realised he was going to faint.

“Um… I don’t know.”

“You’ve gone white,” observed Sirius, his voice almost muffled.

“When did you last eat?” James asked, his voice worried now, as he remembered that Remus hadn’t been present at lunch at all. Remus’s vision was getting darker; he’d never fainted before, but he’d read about it, and he was surprised how accurately people had managed to write about it now that he was experiencing it for himself. He was staring out through two small holes in his vision, the rest of which was completely dark. It was panicking him slightly, and he couldn’t focus on speaking.

Suddenly, it all went black. It was only for a second, less than a second actually. It was as if he’d blinked and ended up on the floor. That’s what really scared him, how quickly he had passed out, without even remembering it. To him, it felt like nothing, but if he was on the floor now with his friends surrounding him, it must have been at least a few seconds. His memory had wiped it clean, and he didn’t like that at all.

“Shit, Remus, you’re practically blue.” Remus didn’t even know who had spoken then, but he was aware of James and Sirius crouched down in front of him. Peter was nowhere to be seen: he must have been sent to get Madam Pomfrey, which confirmed an even longer gap in Remus’s memory. James helped him to sit up, and he was beginning to feel less dizzy.

“How did I get here?” he asked, disorientated from the sudden fainting spell.

“You passed out or something,” replied James. “Have you eaten?” Remus shook his head.

“You’re really scaring us, mate,” said Sirius. Peter returned just then, with Madam Pomfrey at his heels. This was the second time in just a few days that Remus had to deal with her fussing over him. She took him back to the hospital wing and instructed him to rest. After a few questions, it soon became clear that Remus had hardly eaten at all since he’d been back at school, and with his werewolf appetite and nutritional requirements, it turned out he was quite severely undernourished. Madam Pomfrey was not happy, and she informed him that he’d be in bed for at least a few days now until he’d built his strength back up. Remus didn’t care about his own state, and was more concerned with not being able to access a fireplace to speak to his mum. Madam Pomfrey said he could use the fireplace in her office, but he could no longer speak to his mum late at night.

“You need your rest. This lack of food and sleep is extremely unhealthy, and if I get wind that you’re continuing on like this, you can stay in the hospital wing until half-term if I have anything to do with it.”

His friends visited after lessons had finished.

“Not to press the subject or anything,” James began after the initial greetings and ensuring that Remus was okay. “But are you going to tell us what’s wrong now?”

“Yeah, I mean first your mood and now this,” continued Sirius. “I didn’t know you hadn’t been eating.” Remus sighed, and lay back against his pillow. He had to tell them, and he supposed it wouldn’t be too bad. At least now perhaps he could feel less lonely.

“My mum isn’t getting any better,” he explained. “In fact, she’s getting worse.”

“I’m sorry,” said James, genuinely concerned. “Isn’t there anything that can be done to help?” Remus shook his head.

“There’s nothing the doctors can do. She’s never going to get better. Her liver’s failing, and unless they can find her a new liver, she’s going to die.” Now that he’d said it out loud, it hit him much harder than he was expecting. He had been under the impression that he was finally facing the sobering reality, but saying it out loud proved that he had still been under a haze of vague optimism that his mum would be fine. He knew now that she wouldn’t be fine, and he stopped caring about what his friends thought of him; he let his walls down, and just cried.

Sirius went over to hug him almost immediately, and Remus let him. Now wasn’t the time for them to overthink anything. Sirius wanted to comfort him, and Remus needed to be comforted. James went over to the other side of the bed and lay down next to him, adding an extra comfort as he placed his head on Remus’s shoulder.

“That sucks,” whispered James. Remus nodded.

“It does.”

“Can they not find a new liver?” asked Peter, who wanted to comfort his friend as well, but wasn’t sure how to go about it, so he stayed seated. Remus shrugged.

“Dad said it’s unlikely, cos there are so few donors.”

“What about magic?” asked Sirius, who had sat back down now, but he’d moved his chair right up to the bed. “Can’t your dad just fix her with magic?”

“I asked him that, and he said muggle bodies wouldn’t respond well to magic. Certainly not an organ. It’s too dangerous.” The four boys remained in subdued silence, but Remus liked it. His friends were near him, quiet, but understanding. He finally felt less alone, for the first time in a long time.

Remus was in the hospital wing for a week. He hadn’t realised just how weak he was until he tried to get out of bed and walk around. Madam Pomfrey disapproved of too much movement and always watched him closely when he walked towards the fireplace to speak with his mum. He didn’t tell his mum where he was because the last thing he wanted to do was worry her. Madam Pomfrey must have understood, because she didn’t say a word either, and Remus was grateful for it.

When he was finally allowed to leave, and had finally got his strength back, his friends hovered over him at mealtimes, making sure he was eating properly. He didn’t really want them fussing over him so much, but there wasn’t much he could do to stop them. They never let him miss a meal.

Remus remembered to apologise to James, and to all of them, and he really meant it. He still felt terrible most of the time, but he was glad he had his friends with him, and he didn’t want to lose them again. When Sirius started sitting up with him by the fireplace, he almost felt happy for a moment. He had missed him, and he enjoyed the atmosphere that the two created in the quiet once the fire had died down. It was on one of these nights that Remus decided to put forward a question he’d wanted to ask Sirius for around three years now:

“Do you want to stay at my house for the half-term?” Sirius looked at him, disbelieving of the request.

“What?”

“I want you to meet my mum, at least once. She’d love to have you round. She’d fuss over you and cook her best spaghetti and ask you lots of questions and stuff.” He laughed lightly, and Sirius smiled along with him.

“You really think I can stay?” Remus nodded.

“You know I’m a werewolf, and you know I’m trans, and those were the only two reasons I never asked anyone round. In case they found out. But I don’t have to worry about that with you.”

“I’d love to come round.”

“Brilliant! You’ll get to see my room, and my record collection, and I can show you all round the village and–” Remus lit up as he began to talk animatedly about his hometown. Sirius listened to every word, grinning at the sight of his friend finally looking happy.

Chapter Text

Remus went to find Myfanwy almost as soon as he’d left the hospital wing. He wanted to apologise for blowing her off at the beginning of the year, and just to talk to her anyway about coming out to Jethro. She hadn’t visited him in the infirmary, so he was worried she was angry at him. He found her in the library, sheltering from the pouring rain outside.

“Hey,” greeted Remus. Myfanwy looked up from what she was reading and smiled politely back.

“Hello.” Remus sat down opposite her.

“I’m sorry for acting like I’ve been ignoring you,” he began. “I haven’t, I was just… having a bad week.”

“Yeah, I heard. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. You?”

“I’m alright. Jethro’s still my friend, so that’s good.”

“I’m glad. I was really happy for you when I got your letter.” Myfanwy put her book down, clearly wanting to start up a conversation that had been on her mind. Now that Remus had apologised, she was free to finally talk to him the way she’d wanted to when school started.

“It felt amazing, but… it’s all so fast, you know? There’s still a part of me trying to deny that I’m trans, so coming out to Jethro felt… intense.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No! No, I don’t.” She sighed. “I want to tell my sister, but what’s the point? We only really talk around my parents, and I can never tell my parents.”

“Do you want to tell more people?”

“See, that’s the thing! I don’t know, because it feels like too much but at the same time, I like being called a girl, and no one can do that. You and Jethro can, but only in private and it doesn’t feel like enough.”

“I’m sorry I can’t really help you here. It’s about what you feel like doing, and I can’t tell you what that is.”

“I know.” She tapped her fingers lightly on the cover of her book. “The others in our dorm, are you sure they’d be okay with me?” Remus shrugged.

“I can only go off by their reaction to me, and they were fine. Except Peter, but he’s fine now too.”

“Maybe I could tell Lily. I like Lily. I like the girls in the girls’ dorm.” She stared at the book, her hand still. She looked almost wistful. “Do you think there’d ever be a chance for me to move dorms?”

“You’d probably have to ask McGonagall or Dumbledore or someone.” Myfanwy didn’t reply. “Do you want to move dorms?”

“I don’t know. I like being with you guys, and I like being with Jethro. But… I think being with the girls would make me happy too.”

“Well, we can figure it out. Telling at least one of them is probably a start.” Myfanwy nodded.

“I’ll think about it.”

February came round, and as it did, so too did an opportunity for Remus to commentate his first proper Quidditch match. Madam Hooch approached him at lunch time, outside in the grounds, and informed him that Trevor Blake was ill, and wouldn’t be available for tomorrow’s match.

“Madam Pomfrey’s keeping him inside for a day or two,” said Madam Hooch, shaking her head slightly as if she disapproved of Madam Pomfrey’s overprotectiveness. “Can you do it?” Remus nodded enthusiastically before he could even stop to think.

“I’d love to do it!” It was only a few minutes after Madam Hooch had walked away that he began to spiral into a panic, however. Tomorrow? In front of the whole school? Oh, Merlin…

His friends were very excited for him when he told them, attempting to assuage his fears with enough encouragement.

“You’ll be great,” assured James. “Really.”

“But what if I mess up? I might not even be able to speak, like last time, and at least then it wasn’t in front of the whole school.”

“Just do whatever you did last time that got you to start speaking again,” suggested Sirius. Remus looked at him for a moment or two, remembering exactly what he had done last time. He had focused all his attention on Sirius, pretending that no one else existed. It had worked once before…

“But what if it’s not enough?”

“Well, regardless,” continued James. “We’ll all be cheering you on, and that’s what matters, innit?” Remus nodded.

“Yeah…”

Remus didn’t get a lot of sleep that night, overthinking about everything that could go wrong tomorrow. He could freeze for the entire game and a teacher would have to forcefully remove him. He could trip over all of his words and start speaking gibberish. He could end up speaking in the wrong language… perhaps not that one, although he wouldn’t mind. It would be easier talking in Welsh, knowing full well that virtually no one would understand what he was saying. It wasn’t so much the speaking, he just didn’t want his words to sound stupid.

All he had to do was ignore the crowd, he kept telling himself. Just focus on one person. One single person. It was far easier said than done, especially when the stands were filled to the brim with students. Remus played around with his food at breakfast the next morning, but regardless of how nervous he was, his friends refused to let him leave until his plate was empty, so he had no choice but to eat. It took him a while.

His friends, incidentally, were acting rather shifty. They kept glancing at each other, and James was pretty terrible at keeping secrets when he was desperate to tell them. He’d never betray his friends’ secrets of course, but when it came to surprises– parties, or presents— it took every ounce of his own strength and everyone else’s around him not to reveal all at any given moment. He was simply too impatient, and he was no different today. Remus knew the signs, the random smiles and the darting eyes. James was hiding something, and it seemed like the others were in on it too.

“What?” Remus questioned them just before breakfast ended; he couldn’t ignore his friends anymore.

“What what?” said James, innocently.

“You’re obviously hiding something, I can tell.”

“We’re not hiding anything, we’re just excited about hearing you commentate.” Remus squinted his eyes in suspicion, but decided to drop it. If they were hiding something serious, they’d tell him. They must have planned some sort of surprise, maybe Peter had drawn a banner like at James’s first Quidditch match. Remus didn’t know how to feel if that were the case, because the last thing he wanted was even more attention on him.

As he walked to the Quidditch pitch with James, he barely looked up ahead of him. He was focused on the ground, on his feet, hearing the cheering of the crowds and very much regretting his decision to ever try out for commentator in the first place. He didn’t want to be here, and he didn’t want everyone listening to him. He knew they wouldn’t be looking at him, because everyone would be focused on the game, but they’d almost certainly hear him. His was the loudest voice there, and he had to notice moves and plays before anyone else did, meaning the crowd would be latching onto his every word.

James punched him lightly on the arm when they arrived, grinned and gave him a thumbs up.

“You’ll do great,” he assured. Remus nodded in acknowledgment, but had momentarily lost his voice, which wasn’t a good sign at all.

“Oh, and…” continued James, immediately giving more away than he was supposed to. “You might want to look out for anyone in the crowd.”

“What do you mean?” James shrugged, infuriatingly innocent as ever.

“Nothing,” he said, in an almost sing-song voice. “Don’t worry about it.” Remus stared after him, but tried to put it out of his mind. Obviously there would be some sort of banner waiting for him, which was, in fact, something to worry about. He shook his head to himself, and took a deep breath. This will all be over soon, he told himself, praying that one of the seekers would catch the snitch in a matter of minutes and he could leave.

Remus climbed the stairs, and as he made his way to the podium, he searched the crowd as James had instructed, scanning for where his friends were sitting. He soon spotted them, Marlene and her friend Dorcas sharing a rattle between them, and Gryffindor flags being waved by various classmates. Remus didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, so now he was confused as to what his friends had been trying to hide. Maybe they weren’t hiding anything after all, and they really were just excited.

As he stood there, he looked around at the rest of the crowd, eyeing up exactly how many spectators would be listening to him. His knees felt slightly weak as he observed a good few hundred of students and teachers alike. It was far more daunting than at try-outs the other day, and Remus was sure he wouldn’t even be able to open his mouth at all let alone speak.

But then something– or someone– caught his eye. While he had been scanning the entire crowd, his eyes had landed on one of the teachers’ boxes (there was one on each side, one of which Remus was standing in). The other box was less for teachers and more for parents, who were allowed to visit for matches if they wanted. Remus had never really spotted any parents he knew in the boxes before, but then again he’d never really looked. He looked this time, because right there in the middle of the box, waving a small Welsh flag, was his mum.

Remus stared, shocked and very much disbelieving of his eyes. His mum couldn’t possibly be here, how on earth had she managed to travel all the way up to Scotland? Maybe it was just an illusion, some sort of vision… oh Merlin, Christ, she wasn’t dead was she? And this was just her spirit coming to visit him.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Remus heard his mind say. It wasn’t an illusion, his mum was definitely there. His dad was there too, with a Gryffindor flag in hand. They both waved when they saw him staring and Remus waved back, slightly dazed. Questions aside, his mum was there to watch him commentate, and now he understood why his friends had been so suspicious. This really was a surprise, a fantastic surprise, and Remus at once felt himself straighten up in confidence. He had someone to focus on now, and he was determined to commentate flawlessly, fearlessly. He would make his mum proud, knowing that regardless of what happened, she’d get to see him commentate a Quidditch match at least once. A proper one too, not just a made up one in the bathroom mirror.

And if this happened to be the only time she’d see him commentate, Remus was adamant it would be his best. He turned back to the pitch, waiting for Madam Hooch to blow the whistle and start the match. The cheers of the crowd were roaring through his ears, increasing even further as the players were signalled into the air, and the game was on.

“And Jones immediately passes the Quaffle to McKinnon, an attempt to tackle by Carrow but he just misses.” To Remus’s relief, his mouth hadn’t refused to open. He was focused, watching the Quaffle with more intensity than the seeker watching the snitch

“McKinnon in control of the Quaffle, but a bludger flies in out of nowhere! Can she dodge it?” WHAM! “Bugger! Her broom is hit by the bludger, the Quaffle’s knocked out of her hands and the Slytherins take control.” The crowd groaned from one side of the stadium, and cheered from the other. Remus didn’t dare glance over at his parents, not wanting to lose a single second in case he missed an important play.

“Carrow with the Quaffle now, and he kicks Jones out of the way– oh now come on, that’s just bad sportsmanship!” Now that the nerves had gone, he was starting to get invested in the match, which didn’t do his expected unbiased view any favours.

“Carrow passes the Quaffle to Yaxley, can Jones save it? Yes she can!” The crowd roared. It was getting more intense by the second. “That’ll wipe the smug smile off Carrow’s face, won’t it?” McGonagall said something almost inaudible behind him. “He deserves it, Miss! He were chopsing about the other team before the match…” he hadn’t quite leant away from the microphone enough, and everyone heard his excuse. He noted Carrow staring daggers at him, but all he did was wave cheerily.

“Back in play, and the Gryffindors have control of the Quaffle. Jones passes to Potter, go on James!” He stared intently, now more interested in his friend scoring more than anything. “And he scores!” James flew up beside Remus while the Quaffle continued to be passed between players and quickly whispered something in his ear. Remus glared at him, and reluctantly spoke into the mic.

“Mr Potter would like to inform Miss Evans from third year that that particular goal was for her.” James gave him a thumbs up and Remus searched the crowd for Lily. He smiled at her mortified expression. “And Mr Lupin would like to inform Mr Potter that you have no bloody chance, mate.”

“Mr Lupin, please focus on the game.”

“How was that my fault?!” Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the Slytherin seeker, Daniel Rowle, suddenly make a dive. Remus snapped back into action.

“Rowle makes a move, has he spotted the snitch?” Remus caught the glint of gold just in front of Rowle’s outstretched arm. “And Rowle is tailed by Zhao, the snitch right in front of him. Zhao is hot on his heels, who’ll grab the snitch first?” The crowd reached deafening levels as the end of the game was already in sight, the tension building with every second the seekers flew in tandem together.

“And Rowle makes a leap for it and–! He catches the snitch!” Remus groaned along with the rest of the Gryffindors. “With a hundred and fifty points to ten, Slytherin win the match!” A mixture of disappointed and ecstatic cheering met his ears, but regardless of the result, Remus was delighted. He finally allowed himself to look over at where his parents were sitting, and they were waving their flags, cheering for him personally along with the Slytherins. He grinned, and waved at them. They waved back.

He didn’t know if he’d be able to actually greet his parents properly, but he ran down from the stands anyway after being congratulated by the teachers behind him. His friends were already waiting for him by the edge of the pitch, and even James was there looking surprisingly happy despite Gryffindor’s swift loss against Slytherin.

“You were amazing, Re!” called Sirius, rushing over to hug him.

“Thanks! It’s a shame Slytherin won, though. And so quick, too”

“Ah, who cares, we were more focused on you. Lily was fuming with James,” Sirius laughed.

“I’ll bet.”

“Well I think it was romantic,” claimed James, hands on hips. Lily slapped his shoulder and scowled at him.

“It was embarrassing.”

“Everyone was laughing at Remus, don’t worry.”

“Laughing at me?”

“With you,” James clarified. “Did you see your mum?” he continued, bouncing on the soles of his feet in excitement. “We told your parents you were commentating and asked if they could come see, and your dad said yeah.”

“Really? You asked them?” Remus suspected they must have had something to do with it, but it was still nice to know they had cared that much to even try.

“Yeah, did you see them!?”

“I did see them, it was so cool!”

“They’ll be coming off the pitch by now, over there.” Sirius pointed just behind him to where another set of stairs stood. “You should go catch up with them.”

“Yeah, I will.” Remus began to jog to where his parents were, but quickly turned back to his friends. “I’ll see you in the common room,” he called. They waved in acknowledgment.

“We’ll get some food to celebrate with!” replied James, before Remus turned the corner to where groups of adults were leaving the pitch. He quickly spotted his parents.

“Mam! Dad!” He ran up to them, and they greeted him happily. His mum hugged him and kissed his forehead.

“You were brilliant, love, we were watching the whole thing!”

“Yeah, I saw you! You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“It was a surprise,” said Lyall. “Your friends asked us.”

“And you’re definitely okay to be here?” Remus asked, a hint of concern in his voice as he observed his mum. She seemed alright or as alright as she could be nowadays.

“I am allowed to leave the house, you know,” she assured. “I’m fine.”

“If she weren’t, I wouldn’t have brought her,” said Lyall. “We drove up.”

“Wizarding travel is too much for me at the best of times. The drive was nice, though.”

“That’s a long drive though, you didn’t have to come all this way.” Hope placed a hand on his head.

“You need to stop thinking about me for one minute, sweetheart. I wouldn’t have missed watching you commentate for the world, I know how much you enjoy it.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. And I’ll be even better next time, when Gryffindor wins.”

“Do you want us to walk you back?” Lyall asked, “or do you want to go join your friends?” Remus looked back at the castle, his first instinct wanting to walk back with his parents, but his teenage pride took the best of him.

“It’s okay, I’ll join my friends. They’re waiting for me in the common room.”

“Alright, well we’ll talk to you tomorrow. It’ll be too late to talk when we get back.”

“Okay.” He was about to say goodbye when he remembered something. “Oh wait, before I forget! Can Sirius stay over this half term? And maybe James too, if it’s okay. I wanna make up for leaving his house so soon.” He would have liked to invite all of his friends, but he didn’t think his parents would be able to handle that. He was in two minds about inviting Peter or not, but he was most anxious about wanting Sirius and James to meet his mum and see his house. Perhaps Peter could visit for a day when they’d all settled in, or Lily. His parents looked a little reluctant though.

“The house might be a little too chaotic, don’t you think?”

“They don’t have to stay long, and they’re very well-behaved!” When they wanted to be. Hope laughed.

“You’re making them sound like dogs.”

“You know what I mean, they won’t cause any trouble. And I really want to show them around. We won’t even be in the house half the time, we’ll be up at the village mostly.” He looked up at them expectantly, seeing them start to relent.

“How about we’ll see,” conceded Lyall. “A week before half term, we’ll see how everything is and if we think your friends can stay we’ll tell you.”

“Alright.”

“And preferably only for a few days.”

“We’d love to meet them though,” said Hope. “They seem lovely.”

“They are!”

“Then we’ll leave it at that, yeah?” said Lyall. Remus nodded.

“Yeah.” The three said their goodbyes, and Remus rushed to catch up with his friends and tell James and Sirius the news. He really hoped things would be okay by half term, mostly because he didn’t want anything to happen to his mum, but also because he wanted to show his friends around while life was still relatively normal for him. But it was still two months until Easter, and anything could have happened by then. He tried not to think about it as he returned to the common room.

His friends were waiting for him in their dorm room, although James and Peter had left to get food from the kitchens. Lily was there too, and they had set up a game of cards while they waited.

“Shame we can’t have a party,” said Sirius. “But the older kids won’t bother since Gryffindor didn’t win.”

“That’s alright,” said Remus. “I’m sick of parties.”

“Yeah, me too,” continued Lily. “They get boring after a while.”

“I don’t think so, they’re always fun,” replied Sirius, putting a card down which was immediately smacked by Lily before anyone else could call a snap.

“Last time you went to a party you got drunk,” she pointed out.

“How do you know about that?”

“Owain told me.” Sirius glared at Myfanwy.

“You little tell-tale.”

“How am I a tell-tale? It’s not like Lily’s a teacher or anything.”

“Whatever, I suppose the whole year knows.”

“The whole of Gryffindor knows, you weren’t exactly inconspicuous.” That was James. He had returned with arms laden with food, and had caught the last of the conversation. “Dinner’s ready!” The others cheered as the food was dropped in a pile onto the floor, and they all tucked in.

Conversation mostly led to the Quidditch match and Remus’s commentating, which Remus wasn’t particularly interested in if he was being honest. He didn’t care about reliving it, he just wanted to do it again already. Any nervousness he’d previously had had been eradicated by the end of the match, and he was already hooked. He was pretty annoyed at only being the reserve commentator now, because who knew when he’d get to commentate again.

He also noticed that Myfanwy was being fairly quiet throughout the entire conversation, barely joining in unless she was forced to. Maybe she had been offended at being called a tell-tale, but Sirius hadn’t said it in a mean way. It was just a joke. Remus slid over to where she was sitting and murmured to her out of ear-shot of the others.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Myfanwy took a bite out of a cupcake and didn’t reply immediately.

“I think I’m gonna tell them,” she said eventually. Remus stared at her in confusion.

“Tell who?” Myfanwy nodded her head at the others.

“I don’t want them calling me Owain anymore.”

“When do you want to tell them?”

“Now.” Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you sure? I thought you wanted to tell your sister first.”

“I don’t want to tell her yet, and I’m tired of waiting for that before I can tell my friends. I’m telling them now, get it out of the way.” Remus nodded in support, but he was worried nonetheless, simply from a coming out as trans point of view. It was second-hand nervousness more than anything. But he squeezed Myfanwy’s hand in encouragement, and hoped his friends wouldn’t let him down. He knew they wouldn’t, although he gave a sideways glance at Peter.

“Hey, guys?” Myfanwy said over the chatter of everyone else, grabbing their attention. They stopped talking, turning their focus towards her.

“What?” prompted James, when Myfanwy didn’t reply right away.

“Uh… I’d like to tell you all something.”

Chapter Text

The room went quiet while everyone waited for Myfanwy to continue, and as she sat there, Remus recognised the signs of suddenly freezing up in fear. He empathised, having experienced it himself a number of times before, and he lightly pressed his knee against hers, subtly so no one saw, but enough to offer her some encouragement. She must have taken it, because she cleared her throat and began to speak.

“So… this is probably going to be a surprise to everyone, except Remus and Jethro, but I wanted to just… get it out in the open so we can move on, but er…” She looked around at the expectant faces and squeezed her eyes shut for the next sentence, as if she could will them all to disappear.

“I think I’m trans,” she said, as quick as pulling off a plaster. She opened her eyes, searching the reactions of those around her, and immediately looked to Remus for more comfort. He smiled at her, proud at her for telling the others, and trying to hide his own fear of his friends’ responses.

Lily was the first to talk.

“You think? So, you mean you want to be a girl?” Myfanwy nodded.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s still a relatively new thing to me, but… well, Remus helped me realise. I didn’t know it existed before, and now I do, and it explains so much but I’m still getting used to it, and…” she trailed off, noticing her own ramblings.

“Does this mean you’re gonna move dorms?” asked James, curiously. Myfanwy shrugged.

“I don’t know, I don’t think I can. I’d have to tell my sister, and then tell McGonagall or someone, and I’m not ready for that. I just wanted you guys to know.” Remus looked around himself, noticing more of a hesitation than when he’d come out to them. It was a different situation he supposed, since they’d all known Myfanwy as a boy. It was something to get used to, something so out of the blue they weren’t quite sure how to respond. He just hoped they wouldn’t say anything that actually hurt Myfanwy, and if they did, then they’d have him to answer to. Peter was staying silent.

“If you can’t move dorms,” continued Sirius, “or tell anyone else, what do you want to do?”

“Well, for starters, if you can all refer to me as a girl, that would be great. I changed my name to Myfanwy, so I’d like it if you could use that instead of Owain. Owain just doesn’t suit me anymore.”

“That’s a nice name,” said Lily.

“Thanks.”

“So, you’re gonna still sleep in the dorm room?” asked Peter, making James groan.

“Not this again,” he muttered, and Remus was grateful he didn’t have to be the one to mention it. Was Peter about to go on about the sleeping arrangements again?

“No, I don’t mean it like that,” defended Peter. “I mean, like…. Are you comfortable with that?” he asked Myfanwy, surprising Remus with his complete change in attitude. Peter used to be worried about himself when it came to someone like Remus sleeping in the dorm room, but now he was actually thinking of Myfanwy. He must have genuinely taken their old argument on board, and it was certainly a positive sign of growth. Remus was also glad he didn’t have to yell at Peter for insulting Myfanwy, like he was expecting to need to do only a few moments ago.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I like you guys enough.”

“Is that why you’ve been growing your hair out?” asked James.

“Yeah, although I know it looks bad.”

“No it doesn’t! It looks good.”

“I can style it for you if you want,” said Lily. “And I can lend you some clips and stuff.”

“That would be nice, thanks.” Myfanwy looked like an entire weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and Remus understood perfectly. It was usually the moment of coming out that made you realise just how hard it had been to stay in the closet, and Myfanwy was finally experiencing the overwhelming relief of not having to hide anymore. Remus really hoped it would go well for her.

They started packing up for bed, and Remus saw Lily chatting quietly with Myfanwy before she left. Myfanwy was smiling, and Remus felt such a surge of affection towards Lily at that moment. He was almost inclined to feel jealous that James wanted to ask her out, but he’d already decided to leave the issue of dating well alone for now.

The others didn’t ask too many questions, familiar as they were now to the boundaries they could and couldn't cross. Most of them simply said a few encouraging words to Myfanwy and moved on. Peter didn’t say a lot, but he hadn’t said anything out of order, so Remus was satisfied with the overall reaction. Myfanwy certainly deserved it. She approached him just before they all went to sleep and gave him a quick, wordless hug. She didn’t need to say anything.

It turned out later on that Lily had offered to lend some clothes to Myfanwy if she wanted; Myfanwy was quite a bit taller than her, but Lily thought she’d be able to make any clothes fit with a few choice spells, and she had some spare dresses and shirts for Myfanwy to at least try on. She brought them into the dorm room late one afternoon, and they were all fairly intrigued, except for Remus, who stayed on his bed. He watched Myfanwy though, who was currently in her element. It was such a noticeable difference. Despite Myfanwy saying she didn’t mind how she looked in public, that she wasn’t too uncomfortable with her body in the way that Remus was, she was clearly so much happier when she was wearing feminine clothes, and being referred to as a girl. She was just bouncier, lighter, more confident. And she looked really good. Remus was good at noticing things, especially in people, and when Myfanwy was dressed up in Lily’s old skirt and jewellery, her hair noticeably longer by now, he saw Jethro staring at her intently. He recognised something in Jethro’s face, an expression Remus himself probably had on when he looked at Sirius sometimes. A certain awe, mixed in with plain confusion. Remus didn’t want to jump to conclusions, though, and he quickly turned away before Jethro had noticed him looking.

As had happened last time, the boys found the clothes fun to play with and try on. It was in a much sillier way than with Myfanwy, of course, but it was still encouraging for her. James made a point of turning everything into some chaotic fashion show, the fashion of which would be an assault to onlookers’ eyes since he tried to accessorise with whatever was lying around. He had a bag on his head as a hat and an unsightly knitted cardigan that Lily had attempted to give away, but no one except James would even go near it. He was having a laugh, and making everyone else laugh with him.

”I look like Remus,” he claimed, an inside joke for everyone’s amusement. Remus was starting to gain a reputation for having a shockingly bad style. He dressed in muggle clothes the way a clueless wizard did, except Remus actually wasn’t clueless in this instance. The fact that the way he dressed was a stylistic choice made everyone laugh at him even more. Usually he stuck with jeans and a jumper, but when he was enabled to dress in whatever was at hand, it resulted in a concoction of cardigans, mismatched socks, and accessories that would make John Pertwee proud. He’d been known to wear a bow tie, and occasionally a flat rimmed hat. Remus stuck his middle finger up at James, which simply encouraged James even further.

Sirius, on the other hand, took the clothes more… Well, seriously. He went for his usual choice of a skirt and kept it on all evening again. He said he liked the way it flowed every time he moved. He also went to put the bracelet on that Remus had given him, sure that no one would really notice amongst the chaos and finally giving him the opportunity to wear it in front of people. His hair, which he tended to keep in a ponytail, was let down and Remus couldn’t take his eyes off him. He didn’t know if it was okay to admit that Sirius could easily be mistaken for a girl, but Remus still felt that fluttering in his chest as he continued to stare. He slowly realised that regardless of how Sirius looked, whether he looked like a boy or a girl, Remus still felt the exact same.

Maybe it wasn’t gender. Maybe it was just Sirius.

James threw a skirt over to him, shaking him out of his reverie. He came up to him privately, careful not to draw attention to them both as the others were now distracted by Myfanwy putting on her own fashion show, in a far more glamorous way than James had done.

“I know you probably don’t want to wear this, but it is fun,” said James. Remus looked down at the skirt, running a finger over the strands of silver glitter that covered the material.

“It is nice,” replied Remus. “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind trying it on, but I’m worried I’ll feel awful about it. I’ll get all self-conscious.”

“You won’t be any less of a boy. I mean, I’m wearing a dress and a skirt right now, and I don’t feel like a girl, and no one’s calling me a girl. It’s just a skirt.”

“I know.” It wasn’t quite the same though. James had never been forced to wear a skirt as a child in order to let everyone know that he was still definitely a girl. But even Remus couldn’t deny that girl’s clothes were just so much prettier. He hated them, but sometimes he wished he didn’t. Without speaking, he took his trousers off and pulled the skirt on. James grinned at him in encouragement.

“The silver goes with your jumper,” he said. Remus twirled the skirt around a little, enjoying the movement of it. It was certainly more comfortable than his jeans, which had become a little tight ever since he’d started eating properly again. He also really liked the glitter.

Sirius noticed him, and wandered over.

“You look great!” he exclaimed.

“You think?”

“Yeah! It suits you… is that okay to say?”

“I guess. If it suits me, it suits me.” Remus was surprised at the fact that the skirt didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. He didn’t feel self-conscious among his friends because he knew they saw him as a boy no matter what. A skirt wasn’t going to change that.

“You look good too,” he continued, nodding at Sirius’s outfit. Sirius looked down at himself.

“Yeah. Skirts are amazing, I wish boys could wear them.”

“They can,” James affirmed, but Sirius waved a hand at him.

“I mean in public. If I walked out like this, I'd get beaten up immediately.”

“How do you think Myfanwy feels then,” Remus mumbled, but the other two caught it. They looked over at her.

“She looks happy,” observed Sirius.

“She does.” Remus decided to take the skirt off before the others saw. He was only really comfortable in front of James and Sirius, Lily as well if she’d been there, but he felt like returning to his jeans now. He’d made a small step in feeling more confident in himself, but he didn’t need to take it any quicker. He handed the skirt to Sirius, who’d been eyeing it up slightly, although in reality, Remus just wanted to see the silver, glittery material with Sirius’s dark hair, knowing full well he’d look amazing in it.

He did.

After the evening they’d spent trying on Lily’s clothes, Myfanwy seemed a little more down than usual, which was a stark difference to how she’s been the other night. Remus was worried the evening had affected her in a way she hadn’t planned and tried to ask her about it.

“I guess the more I’m open with people, the harder it is to go back to normal,” she said, a note of sadness in her voice. “Like, I wish I was wearing a different uniform right now.”

“It must be hard, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. You’re lucky you get to wear what you want, though.”

“Isn’t there anything small you could wear, just… to make you feel a little better?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, something subtle. A necklace, or something.”

“Maybe. It wouldn’t feel like enough though.”

“Well, you can wear whatever you want in the dorm. That’s all I can think of.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll work it out. I should just be happy that you guys all know and people can finally call me Myfanwy.” She was smiling again. “It feels great.”

“I’m happy for you. Really.” She nodded, and went off to her divination class while Remus headed for the dingy ancient runes classroom.

Marlene was the only person he knew in his year who also took ancient runes, everyone else deeming it to be far too boring compared with other subjects. Sirius was in muggle studies, as was James, and Peter had selected divination at the last minute, which he ended up thoroughly enjoying. Remus was still doing well in ancient runes, but Marlene appeared to regret her decision every single lesson, despairing at the letters that just didn’t make sense to her. She got angry, despondent, and was regularly in trouble over it.

Remus tried to help, sitting with her when the teacher wasn’t looking and calmly translating the texts with her, until she was finally reaching a relatively good level of comprehension. She was quite impatient, though, which made it hard to work slowly and she’d yelled at Remus a few times, sulking instead of responding to him. Remus tried not to get annoyed, but she made it hard sometimes.

The library was a better place for them to sit, as it was quiet and held little distraction. Marlene could concentrate better, and it helped her stay calm as she tried to read the texts. Eventually, Remus ended up becoming more of a tutor to her, after he realised that she didn’t just struggle with ancient runes.

“Do you find all reading hard?” he asked, noticing her frustration whenever she was doing any homework. The days where she had to write essays were days where she could hardly be approached. Marlene shrugged at his question.

“Yeah, I guess. The words just blend together, you know?”

“What about writing?”

“I hate writing, my brain gets all muddled and I spell everything wrong.”

“Maybe you just need to practice,” he said, but judging by Marlene’s deepening scowl at him, he figured it wasn’t the right thing to say.

“I’m fourteen, I’ve had enough practice, haven’t I? I just get muddled, it’s not my fault.”

“I know, I didn’t say it was. Maybe you can try other things.”

“Like what? I have to write or else I’ll get in trouble.”

“I don’t know, but I can try and help with the reading, and if you want I can write your essays for you.” She stared at him, and he clarified in case she thought he was being weirdly overbearing. “I won’t do the whole thing, you can say what you want to write and I’ll write it down for you. If it helps.” She thought about it for a moment.

“Thanks, that… would really help. But…” she continued staring at him, and Remus felt uncomfortably scrutinised. “Why are you helping me so much?”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“I guess? But we mainly just share a class and do homework together.”

“Well, maybe I’d like to get to know you more. We get on, don’t we? And we both like punk music.” She laughed, louder than Remus would have liked. “What?”

“Sorry, it’s just… it’s so funny to think of you as punk. You look like an insane librarian.”

“Just because I don’t dress punk, doesn’t mean I can’t like the music,” he retorted. “Besides, my aunt dresses punk, so I know what it looks like.” She laughed even harder.

“Your aunt? That’s cute, that’s really cute.” Remus crossed his arms and frowned.

“I’ll have you know my aunt is very cool.”

“How old is she, like fifty? How can an aunt be cool?”

“She’s thirty-two, and she owns a bar. She’s very cool. She even has a girlfriend,” he added, which finally got Marlene to stop laughing.

“A what?”

“A girlfriend.”

“Like… like a relationship?”

“Yeah.”

“With a girl?”

“Yeah.” She paused.

“That’s a thing?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. I did not know that. I thought it was just a guy thing.”

“What’s just a guy thing?”

“You know. Like, men being attracted to men, I’ve heard of that. Never heard of two women.”

“Well, now you have.” She raised her eyebrows, concluding the conversation as they moved on to other matters. Marlene still had a few questions on her homework paper to answer. They only took her another ten minutes or so, and lunch hadn’t quite finished yet. As the two packed up their books, Remus looked at her sideways, playing with an idea on his mind, but not thinking he’d be confident enough to say it.

He surprised himself.

“Hey, er… next Hogsmeade visit, do you want to go with me? We can go to the Hogshead or something.” Marlene looked up and blinked at him.

“Like, a date?”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be a date, just… you know, hanging out.” She put the last of her books away, not replying for a few moments. Remus started to regret saying anything, before she finally responded.

“Okay. I guess that could be fun.”

“Great, I’ll see you then, then.” He’d probably see her many times before then, considering the next Hogsmeade visit wasn’t until after half-term, but it was something to say at least.

Remus had specifically told Sirius not to celebrate his birthday, and Sirius had agreed. Partially. It hadn’t stopped him from telling James, and Peter, and Lily. But at least they all had the sense to wish him nothing more than a happy birthday. Not only that, but Remus’s birthday happened to coincide with the second day of Holi that year, so James obviously used it as an excuse to celebrate. Remus actually preferred that, because it meant that the celebrations weren't for him, but it was still a very fun day. James always made it fun, and for once, the teachers let it slide. If anything, they seemed to secretly enjoy it. It was quite funny, after all, to see parades of students marching into class looking like they were all wearing technicolour dreamcoats (a term that Remus had christened the look, since he’d seen the show with his mum a few years ago and decided it was a perfect description).

Sirius gave him a present at the end of the day, late at night like Remus had done on his birthday. It was wrapped in the Daily Prophet with a hairband around it to keep it secure.

“It’s not much,” Sirius admitted, embarrassed at the flat-looking parcel. Remus opened it, and found a paperback notebook, the colour of parchment. It was thicker than it had originally appeared, and Remus always loved the look of empty pages after empty pages. It practically begged to be filled.

“A notebook,” he said.

“Yeah, I know it’s sort of… dull. But I thought, you know, you’re always reading. Maybe you’d like to try and write your own book one day.” Remus huffed a laugh.

“You think I could write a book?”

“I dunno, maybe. You’re good at writing essays.”

“Thanks. It’s really nice.” Sirius smiled shyly, and soon left to go back to bed. Remus opened up the notebook to the first page, and noticed an inscription inside the cover that Sirius hadn’t mentioned. It was definitely his handwriting, the distinct messy cursive that everyone could hardly read, including Sirius himself. Remus had to squint at it.

Happy Birthday!
Whatever you write in here, I’m sure it’ll be great. Maybe I can read it sometime?
From, Sirius

Something had been scratched out just before the last line, some word aggressively scribbled over. Remus couldn’t read it at all, but he didn’t take any notice. The stuff he could read was nice. Sweet. Sirius could be sort of cheesy when he wanted to be, but it was no less endearing.

Remus put the notebook away in his bedside table and soon after felt his eyes start to close. It was very late.

Remus ran into Marlene quite a bit nowadays, since she was hanging out with the group more and more. Usually she was off with her friend Dorcas Meadows from fourth year, but Dorcas was already spending a lot of time studying for next year’s O.W.Ls, so Marlene was wandering around school a little listlessly, with Lily at her side. Her and Sirius were getting on quite a bit too, and when the two started talking about music, Remus found himself feeling quite jealous. Sirius used to come to him to learn about music, but now he was hanging on Marlene’s every word. It wasn’t exactly a mystery as to why, she clearly had far more knowledge than Remus did, but Remus liked being the one who seemed to know everything. He was feeling somewhat left out.

As March drew to a close, Remus waited expectantly for his parents to tell him if Sirius and James could come round or not. His mother seemed to still be doing okay, the dialysis was still working and she spoke to him every evening from the fireplace. He had already told James and Sirius that they could maybe visit, and the two were just as excited. He didn’t want to disappoint them.

On the second of April, a few days before half term, Lyall finally gave Remus the green light for Sirius and James to visit.

“But only for a week,” Lyall informed. “And if anything happens with your mum, I’m afraid they’ll have to go home immediately.”

“I know.”

“And please try not to cause any trouble. I know you won’t, and I know your friends will be lovely, but the last thing your mum needs is any hassle, alright?”

“I know, it’ll be fine. I’ll take them out to the village, and you’ll only see us at dinner.” He didn’t ask if Peter or Lily could perhaps visit as well, because as much as he wanted them to, he didn’t want to stress his parents out any more. So, he settled for being able to show round James and Sirius at least.

The two were ecstatic. James went to write to his parents immediately, and Sirius already started packing.

“Aren’t you going to ask your parents too?” said Remus, already knowing the answer, but curious as to how Sirius was going to get around the issue of permission. Sirius shook his head.

“Of course I’m not, they’d never let me. I’m just gonna tell Reg that I’m staying with James for a bit, and make sure he doesn’t snitch on me.”

“Will he?” Sirius shrugged.

“Can never tell with him.”

The last days were more hectic than usual, with Remus terribly excited at the prospect of his friends coming over. He’d never had a friend visit his house before, and he hoped his room didn’t look a mess. He worried about the posters he had on his wall, in case some had been put up years ago and never taken down. He didn’t want to look like he was into anything childish, although then again, James and Sirius probably wouldn’t recognise whatever was on the posters anyway. He mentally went through the contents of his room: a bookshelf of books and his relatively small record collection. His chart of the moon, his Quidditch, football and rugby posters. One Doctor Who poster, and a Beatles poster… that wasn’t bad. His friends would probably think his room was quite cool. He still had a stack of comics at the bottom of his cupboard, though. Were comics considered childish? Probably not to purebloods, since they had no idea what the comics were even about, and he didn’t expect that they’d need to look through his cupboard anyway.

His room was fine. He was being silly to worry.

The last evening was spent on the sofa in front of the fire, everyone chatting lazily with each other. Lily and Marlene were painting each other’s nails and James and Sirius were in the middle of a heated game of exploding snap. The fire crackled in the grate, and the atmosphere was comfortable. Remus was already feeling his eyes close.

“Could I try that?” Remus heard Myfanwy ask. He looked over, and saw her pointing at the nail varnish in Marlene’s hand.

“Of course you can!” said Lily, before Marlene could even reply. Marlene didn’t know that Myfanwy was trans, but she didn’t say anything about her request anyway. She just shrugged and handed over the small, green bottle.

“Want me to do it for you?” Marlene asked, and Myfanwy nodded, already out of her depth. Remus smiled to himself at the scene, watching as Marlene painted Myfanwy’s nails, and Lily looked on in encouragement. It was nice whenever Myfanwy got to express who she was, even if it was only in small baby steps.

“Looking good,” remarked Marlene when she’d finished. Myfanwy stared at her hands, admiring them with pride.

“They’re great. Thanks.”

“I could do everyone’s,” continued Marlene, looking around the group expectantly.

“No way,” said Peter. “That’s for girls.” Myfanwy actually smiled at that. Peter considered her to be one of those girls.

“No it’s not, it’s for everyone. Owain’s not a girl, and he likes it.” They all went briefly quiet, Remus trying not to cringe internally. He saw a slight pained look cross over Myfanwy’s face, but it went unnoticed by Marlene. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t know, so they quickly tried to move on.

“I’ll try it,” said Jethro, looking up from a book he was reading. “You and me can match,” he smiled at Myfanwy, and it was clear what he was doing. He didn’t want her to feel self-conscious over looking like the only boy wearing nail varnish. They all knew she wasn’t a boy, but Marlene didn’t, and anyone around them didn’t either. They might think she was weird. Myfanwy smiled back gratefully.

“Got any other colours than green?” asked James, walking up to where Marlene was sitting. “I don’t want to wear the Slytherin colours.”

“I’ve got red.”

“Perfect.” Sirius followed behind him.

“I’ll try too,” he said.

“Thank Merlin, I was desperate to see what you liked like with black nail varnish, it would suit you perfectly.” Sirius nodded enthusiastically, and within a few minutes, Marlene and Lily were playing the roles of nail technicians. It was quite a sight to see, all the boys enjoying their nails being painted, and if anything, at least it helped Myfanwy.

Peter and Remus were the only two who didn’t jump at the idea. They remained where they were, looking on in amusement, but making no move to join in.

“I think Remus would suit blue,” mused Marlene, looking him over. “It would go with his outfit.”

“Nothing goes with his outfit,” Lily giggled. “You look like if the Doctor got trapped in a vintage charity shop.”

“Thank you, that’s the look I was going for.”

“Exactly,” continued Marlene. “It would make him look even more chaotic, with bright blue nails. Maybe we should go for orange.” Lily gasped happily.

“How about both?” Remus did not like the excited twinkle in their eyes.

“I am not walking around with blue and orange nails.”

“Come on, mate, we’re all doing it,” jeered James. “Except Peter, but he’s a coward.”

“Bugger off,” replied Peter. “I’d look stupid.”

“Just one nail,” offered Marlene. “Pleeeeeease?” Remus sighed.

“Fine.” Lily and Marlene cheered in delight. “But one nail would look even stupider, you might as well do the others too.” Marlene walked over to him, blue and orange nail varnish in hand. He begrudgingly sat there as she painted his nails as carefully as she could, denying the fact that not only did it feel really good, but it looked good too. Of course, “good” was a general term for what looked insane. Lily was right, the bright orange and blue made him look even more daft than usual, but just the colours themselves were pleasing on the eyes. He didn’t hate it as much as he thought he would. He even admired them after Marlene had finished.

“Voila!” she exclaimed. “Stunning.”

“Thanks. I don’t think I’ll be wearing them home though.”

“Boooo, you’re no fun.” He stuck her tongue out at her, and she responded in accordance. It was getting late now, and everyone was stifling yawns. Remus wanted to get to bed early so he’d be up fresh and ready for the beginning of half-term. He couldn’t wait. James and Sirius thankfully shared his sentiments, and the three were the first up the stairs. Sirius came up to him just before they went to sleep.

“If I were to keep this nail varnish on, d’you think anyone would beat me up?” he asked.

“If they did, me and James would duel them for you.”

“Well, I don’t really want you to have to do that.”

“I’m kidding. It’s end of term, no one’ll notice.”

“You think?”

“Yeah.”

“And your parents won’t think I’m weird?”

“You really want to keep it on for that long?”

“I like how it looks. Marlene’s right, it suits me.”

“They won’t care. Besides, you’re my friend. I won’t let them say anything if they do.”

“I’ll keep it on then.”

As it turned out, almost everyone ended up keeping their nail varnish on, which had the effect of looking like they were making some sort of statement. In reality, Remus and James were simply supporting Sirius, and Myfanwy, which Jethro was doing as well. Myfanwy, incidentally, hadn’t kept hers on. She wanted to, more than anyone else there, but she didn’t have the freedom to keep it on while her parents could notice. But they all still supported her, and she looked happier than expected when they reached the platform.

Chapter Text

“What’s with the nail polish?” asked Lyall, immediately noticing the orange and blue varnish on Remus’s hand, which wasn’t surprising considering how vivid the colours looked. All five of them, Remus, his parents, James and Sirius were walking back towards Hope’s car. They couldn’t take a wizarding mode of transport, because it was too dangerous for Hope, but James and Sirius didn’t mind. The prospect of a car journey seemed exciting, and Remus didn’t have the heart to tell them that being squashed into the back of an Austin Mini for two hours was about as exciting as peeling an orange.

“The girls did it, and I forgot to take it off.” He had no idea what his dad would think of him wearing nail polish, but he didn’t think any train of thought would end well for him. Either he’d be at the receiving end of a “boys don’t wear nail polish” lecture or his dad would think he wasn’t a boy after all, since he apparently had an interest in something so girly. Remus shoved his hands into his pockets, attempting to distract attention away from his nails.

“We’re all wearing it,” said James. “The girls got carried away, and now we can’t get it off.”

”It looks pretty,” remarked Hope. “Although I don’t know who decided that orange and blue was a good combination.”

”Lily and Marlene said it would go with my outfit,” replied Remus.

“I can get the varnish off for you,” interjected Lyall all of a sudden. “Simple vanishing spell, won’t take a moment.”

”Al-right...” Lyall took less than a minute to vanish away their nail polish, and Remus was surprised at how disappointed he felt now that it was gone. He looked over at Sirius, who hadn’t dared protest at Lyall’s quick intervention. He looked even more depressed than Remus at his now colourless nails.

They soon reached the car, piling inside it. Lyall and Hope were at the front, and the three boys were squeezed up beside each other in the back. There were technically only two seats in the back, so they were practically on top of each other.

“Nice car,” remarked James, in a tone of genuine politeness.

“Thank you,” returned Hope. “I’m afraid it’s a bit small though.”

“That’s alright, it’ll be fun.” Remus gave a sideways glance at James. Poor fellow had no idea how long he’d be sitting here, and he could barely make it through a lesson without at least bouncing his leg like his life depended on it. He couldn’t do that here, and after two hours he’d probably be on the cusp of insanity.

“Mind if we turn the radio on?” asked Remus, hoping the muggle music and chat shows would be a good enough distraction. James and Sirius enthusiastically agreed, so Hope switched on the ancient, crackly radio. Remus leaned forward as much as he could to change it to the right station, trying to find the most up to date one. He found one playing David Bowie’s Rebel Rebel, a song he hadn’t heard yet, but he was already partial to Bowie’s music, so he listened intently to it. James and Sirius seemed to read his mind enough to keep fairly quiet, but he supposed they were listening too. Muggle music was still quite intriguing to them, especially to Sirius.

“Who sings this?” asked Sirius when the song ended. Remus nodded at the radio as the presenter announced who the singer was.

“David Bowie,” Remus clarified.

“Haven’t heard of him.”

“I’ve got one of his records. I’ll show you.”

“How many records have you got?” continued Sirius, interested in finding out more about Remus’s home life.

“A few. I’ve collected some over the years.” He said it with a slight showing-off tone to his voice. “I’m planning on building up the biggest collection ever.” Sirius opened his mouth slightly in awe at the prospect, which did nothing to assuage Remus’s ego.

“And where are you planning on keeping this world record collection?” asked Hope, light-heartedly, but still temporarily bursting his bubble.

“In my room, of course.”

“Ah, of course.”

“Maybe not my room in this house,” continued Remus, conceding slightly. “But one day I’ll buy a house and one room will be filled just with records.”

“If it’s the biggest collection ever, you’ll need more than room,” said James.

“Alright, every room then, except the kitchen and the room I sleep in. And even then, there’ll be records in it.”

“That’ll be bloody expensive,” said Lyall from the front. Remus shrugged casually.

“I’ll figure it out.” The three continued listening to the radio until Hope decided she wanted to make further small talk. Remus didn’t mind. This was the first time his friends were meeting her, and he wanted them all to get to know each other as much as possible.

“How are you two doing at school, then?” began Hope, opening with the classic school question.

“Good,” replied Sirius. “I like the subjects.”

“The homework’s boring,” continued James. “I’m not very good at it.”

“You don’t like the subjects?”

“No, the subjects are fine, I just don’t like writing about them.”

“He takes hours to finish,” said Sirius. “Then he’s all moody.”

“No I’m not!”

“Yeah you are.”

“What about Quidditch?” interrupted Lyall, avoiding an argument from breaking out. “We saw you play, James, you’re very good.” James beamed at the compliment.

“Thank you! I practise all the time.”

“Well, it’s paid off. Are you planning on being a Quidditch player when you’re older?”

“Yup. I haven’t chosen which team to play for though. I’d like the Chudley Cannons, but otherwise I’d go for the Scottish team.”

“The Chudley Cannons are the worst team,” insisted Sirius. “You’re better off going for Scotland.”

“Or I become the first Chudley Cannons player to win the World Cup. Then I become a legend. And Remus can be the commentator.”

“I don’t think I’m good enough for that.”

“Don’t be stupid, you’re already brilliant.” Remus shook his head.

“Besides,” he said, “if I did become a commentator it’d be for the Welsh team.”

“Not the English?” asked Lyall, in mock disappointment.

“Nah, the Welsh team are better.”

“You tell him, lad,” smiled Hope.

“I wouldn’t play for the English either,” said James. “Maybe Sirius can.”

“I’m not even on the Hogwarts Quidditch team,” replied Sirius.

“Well I keep telling you to try out.”

“Do you play, Sirius?” asked Lyall.

“Not really. My parents wouldn’t want me to play for Gryffindor.”

“That’s stupid,” exclaimed James.

“Yeah, I know, but… you know.” He quickly changed the subject. “What’s your house like, Re?”

“Oh, um… it’s nice. There’s a lot of fields around it and stuff. But it’s the village I wanna show you most, it’s really nice in the Spring, ‘specially at Easter. There’s bunting everywhere and everyone’s selling chocolate eggs.”

“Why?” asked Sirius.

“Why what?”

“Why is everyone selling chocolate eggs?”

“Because that’s what you do at Easter, you go on egg hunts and then eat them.” Sirius just looked even more confused. “So like, someone hides chocolate eggs, in the garden or something, and then you go around looking for them. It’s mostly just for kids though.”

“It sounds fun,” said James. “Especially if they’re all chocolate.”

“It is, I went to this big hunt in some town square when I was a kid and I found nearly twenty eggs.” His abnormally good sense of smell had been a big help back then, and he was at the envy of the other children by the end of the hunt. This had been years ago, even before his family had moved to Wales. He barely remembered anything about it, and he had only recently become a werewolf, so he was still getting used to the fact, as well as being very self-conscious around other children. In fact, the egg hunt had probably been the first time he hadn’t completely hated his wolf form, because he had been able to find most of the eggs when the other kids couldn’t, and he had felt extremely proud of himself.

Until he got back home, and he soon slipped back into his usual desire of going back to normal, prompted even further by the amount of chocolate he had, and his knowledge that chocolate was poisonous to dogs...

He shook his head lightly to try and forget about that, returning to the far more pleasant thought of the Easter egg hunt.

Two hours passed, and not soon enough, because Remus could feel his friends becoming slightly tetchy, even if they were admiring the scenery as they drove past. They’d never been to Wales before, so they were kept interested for most of the journey, especially as they drove along the Severn Bridge and then through bustling cities. But once they reached further into the country, there was only so much entertainment that could be drawn out through endless fields of sheep and horses, and it was clear all three of them wanted to arrive at the house as soon as possible.

Eventually, Lyall pulled into the driveway of the Lupin household, and spirits were raised once again. It was starting to get dark though, so the outside of the house couldn’t be seen in much detail, but Remus was more interested in showing his friends the inside.

“Oi!” called Lyall, as Remus eagerly ran ahead with James and Sirius. “Help with the bags first, lad.” Remus returned and each of the boys lifted their own trunk from out of the boot. Lyall let them into the house and the trunks lay forgotten on the floorboards by the coat rack.

“I’ll give you all a tour,” announced Remus, dragging his friends into the living room. “That’s the living room,” he said proudly, pointing around at various landmarks. “That’s the TV that we’ll definitely be watching. I’m going to show you Doctor Who, definitely.”

“Eurovision’s on tomorrow night,” interrupted Hope, wandering into the kitchen from the living room and switching on the lights. Remus bounced on his heels in sudden excitement.

“Oh we’re absolutely watching that!”

“What’s Eurovision?” asked James.

“Only the best singing competition ever! All the European countries compete for best song and it’s so fun. You’ll love it, you’ll see.” He pulled them away into the kitchen.

“That’s the kitchen. There’s the sink, there’s the fridge, and there’s the ugly orange tiles that no one likes.” He had been worried about the state of his house ever since he’d been to James’s. In contrast to the Potter’s spacious and tasteful decor, the Lupin household was rather cramped with a lifetime of various hoardings, and the decor did not help the feeling of claustrophobia. The rooms were plastered with the same style as every house in the late sixties had undergone, a dingy colour scheme of browns and oranges, wood panellings everywhere and not a hint of taste. The Lupins were essentially living in an antique shop, and Remus felt pretty self-conscious. He bet Sirius didn’t live like this. He probably had a mansion and elegant chandeliers in every room.

But, as he was pointing out the furniture and the terrible kitchen tiles, he couldn’t help but feel quite proud of where he lived, simply because he had such an affection for his house that he wanted to show it off. Besides, it wasn’t all bad. They lived in the countryside after all, and the garden was massive. It had also been neatly cared for by Hope’s meticulous gardening skills, so it looked quite spectacular even in the dark.

“We can see my room now,” said Remus, eager to get to the main attraction. The three boys ran upstairs, ignoring Lyall’s warning to slow down, and Remus led them into his bedroom, mentally checking it over as he entered to ensure it wasn’t too messy. It looked fine. He’d left some clothes out on the chair by his desk and one of his posters was falling loose, but if anything, it added to the charm. It was weird how much you wanted to show off your bedroom to your friends, sometimes, as long as it looked alright. It was like allowing them a peek into your small, personal world.

“Hey, some of your posters aren’t moving!” observed James, pointing at his Beatles poster.

“They’re muggle ones, they’re not supposed to.”

“Really? Where’s the fun in that?”

“We have the TV if we want to see moving pictures.” Sirius was staring at the moon chart above Remus’s desk, then he turned his focus to the bookshelf and the piles of records next to an ancient-looking record player. He huffed out a small laugh.

“Your room is exactly how I imagined it to be.”

“Is that a good thing?” asked Remus.

“It’s definitely a good thing.”

“Here let me show you my records.” Remus pulled Sirius and James over, talking animatedly about each album. He handed each one to them as he explained so they could study the covers.

“... and this is In the Wee Small Hours by Frank Sinatra, it’s pretty old but I like it. It was one of the first albums ever to have songs that all fit together. The whole album tells a story about his love for Ava Gardner…” another album was picked up and shoved into Sirius or James’s hands.

“... and this is I Wanna Hold Your Hand by the Beatles, it was my first album that my mum gave me. This one’s hers too… Kind of Blue by Miles Davies.” An Elvis Presley one, then Marvin Gaye, then John Lennon. “Like a Rolling Stone by Bob Dylan. I love this one, before this song came out most music was just pop music that sounded fun to listen to, but this song actually told a story, and after that a load of other songs followed…” he rambled on and on, bewildering the two wizards who could barely keep up with him. He didn’t notice Sirius smiling at him, listening intently despite hardly understanding a word.

Remus stopped.

“Sorry, I’m going on and on,” he said, suddenly noticing. “I didn’t mean to.” He took the albums from his friends and placed them back in their pile. “We can do something else.”

“I don’t mind, it’s funny listening to you,” said James.

“Funny?”

“Not in a bad way, it’s just, I’ve never seen you look so excited before.”

“You really like music, don’t you?” continued Sirius. Remus stared back at his pile of albums.

“I mean, I think I like it as much as anyone else.”

“Well, maybe not so much the music, but the stories behind the albums. All the technical stuff.”

“I… didn’t think of it like that.”

“It’s funny,” concluded Sirius. “It’s very you.”

They heard Lyall call them down for dinner, and the boys eagerly went back downstairs, hungry as they were. Remus thought a bit about what his friends had said. He hadn’t realised how much he cared about the backstories and technical sides to albums, more so than he actually cared about the music. He loved the music, sure, but the songs themselves didn’t speak to him as much as the reasons for why they were written in the first place. He didn’t know if he’d like Frank Sinatra’s album as much if he couldn’t imagine it as a love note to an unattainable woman. Or if Bob Dylan would mean as much to him if his music hadn’t revolutionised the way songs were written.

Perhaps his thinking was far too romantic, which– if that were the case– Sirius must have been wrong. That wasn’t like him at all.

Remus wanted to show James and Sirius the village as soon as possible. He had been wary of the village for quite a while ever since he’d overheard Mrs Bethan talking about him and his mother behind their back, but he started to miss the village. He didn’t have to visit Mrs Bethan, there were plenty of other shops for him to visit, and besides, the village wasn’t all shops. There was the small forest near the residential area, or the train tracks that his mother would be horrified to find out that he went near sometimes, or the cinema that he was desperate to take his friends to. He had certainly been planning on showing them the TV, but he realised that watching a film on a cinema screen would have been far more groundbreaking for them. He didn’t even care which film was showing, any film would have them staring at it in awe.

Incidentally, the film was The Great Gatsby, an adaptation of a book that Remus had read once. He’d actually gotten slightly bored of it near the end, but he was still interested in how it would look on film. And besides, it was fun watching his friends get excited over the smallest stuff; the seats that flipped down, the lights turning off when the film started to play, being shushed by a guy in the back when they started talking too loud.

“That was incredible!” remarked James as they made their way out of the cinema, two hours later, blinking in the bright sunlight. “I mean, it’s more than just a photograph, you got to hear them all speak as well!”

“I didn’t realise muggles had such fancy clothes,” said Sirius. James laughed.

“That’s what you were focusing on?”

“What? They were amazing! All the frills and the diamonds and stuff. Some of it looked even posher than the dress robes my family wear.”

“Well don’t expect me to get you any,” Remus chuckled. “Those sort of clothes would probably cost about a million pounds.”

“What’s that in galleons?” Remus shrugged.

“A million galleons.”

“They can’t be that expensive.”

“You two are insane,” interjected James. “After all that, all you can talk about is the boring clothes. It’s like being with two–” he stopped.

“Two what?”

“Nothing, forget it.” He lowered his head, internally kicking himself.

“Two girls?” Remus prompted. James looked up and flashed him an apologetic look.

“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“Calm down, it’s fine. I know what you meant.”

“I didn’t mean it like–”

“James. It’s fine. You’re making it into a big deal.”

“Right. Sorry.” Remus quickly dragged them into the nearest shop to move away from the temporary awkward silence. It was a toy shop, one which Remus had pretended to have outgrown, but he secretly still liked to browse the shop window on occasion. As for Sirius and James, it was a cave of wonders.

“These are what muggles play with?” They were in a section of wooden figurines, all depicting different animals and people. Soldiers and knights, horses and tigers and lions. Remus liked the shop because it felt like a time warp into simpler times. The stock of toys seemed to be decades behind whatever was up-to-date; most of it was made of wood. The shopkeeper, Robert Harris, was very old-fashioned, to the point where it sometimes felt like he hadn’t even noticed World War Two when it had happened, because he was still stuck in the 1920s. By rights, Remus would have been very uncomfortable around him and his ancient values, but weirdly, he was a good source of gender affirmation. He of course never suspected that Remus hadn’t been born a boy, and he had the tendency to speak to him like a schoolmaster at an all boys boarding school. Lad, son, my boy, all dotted around in every sentence he uttered. It was music to Remus’s ears.

He was in the back room at the moment, and hadn’t even noticed them standing there. Remus wasn’t sure if he wanted his friends to meet Mr Harris, because while the man’s old-fashioned views somehow worked for him most times, he didn’t think he’d want to introduce his friends to it. Just in case.

“Shall we go back home?” asked Remus. “It’ll be late if we don’t head back soon.”

“Aw, but I like it here,” protested James, and Sirius nodded in agreement.

“I can show you it all again tomorrow, don’t worry. If we head back now we can prepare for Eurovision, and we definitely don’t want to miss that.”

“I still don’t know what that is, but okay.”

“You’ll see.” They wandered out of the shop. “Although I don’t know who any of the acts are this year, so hopefully there’ll be some good ones.”

“Does it matter?” asked Sirius. “Aren’t we just gonna root for Britain?”

“Of course it matters! Eurovision isn’t about the individual country, it’s about every country. I never base it on Britain, I just root for whoever’s is the best act.”

“They won’t beat Britain,” assured Sirius, smugly. Remus raised an eyebrow and laughed.

“They probably will,” he said. “They usually do.” The boys made their way back to the house, the half an hour walk now much more interesting with three people. They were quicker too, since most of the journey was spent playing tag and they were all worn out by the time they reached the front door. Remus took longer to get his breath back, for reasons that the other two only remembered when they had finally slowed down. James patted him on the back.

“You alright there, mate?” Remus nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” The only problem with the holidays was that there was no one to place the charm on his chest to keep it flat, so he had to resort back to his binder, and he still struggled to use it in a way that didn’t hurt him sometimes. After a minute or two, he was ready enough to go back inside, adjusting the binder slightly and forgetting about it immediately.

“Eurovision!” he remarked instead, changing the subject and leading them forward into the house.

“Eurovision!” They cheered back.

Chapter Text

“Can Peter come over?” asked Remus, about an hour before the competition started. He knew it was late, and Sirius and James had only just turned up, so he highly doubted his parents would say yes, but he wanted to at least try. Tonight would be quite an event, and he’d feel bad about leaving Peter out of it.

“Remus, we’re about to have dinner,” replied Lyall. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“He can come over after we’ve eaten, and go back tomorrow. He only has to floo here, it’s not hard.”

“Even if I said yes, it’s very unlikely his parents would allow it.”

“If I asked them, and they say yes, can he come over?”

“Well then I wouldn’t have a choice, would I?”

“Exactly.” He grinned at Lyall’s eye-roll, and took the lack of response as a yes. He went to the fireplace and floo-ed Peter’s house, as he had done at James’s house months ago now.

Peter was in the living room when Remus arrived.

“Remus!” he exclaimed, noticing him immediately. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to ask if you could come over.”

“What, now?”

“Yeah, we’re watching Eurovision.”

“What’s that?”

“The best singing competition ever, and I want you to watch it with us. James and Sirius are here too.” Peter instantly looked as if he wanted to join them, but he hesitated.

“I’d have to ask my mum, and we’re about to eat dinner.”

“So are we, you can come after dinner.” Peter thought for a second.

“Alright, I’ll go ask her. I’ll turn up in an hour if she says yes?”

“Yeah! Ask her if you can stay the night too. My parents say it’s fine,” he added, which wasn’t technically a lie, even if one of his parents didn’t even know.

“Okay!” Peter left the room, and Remus returned to his own living room, informing his parents about what Peter had said, and ignoring Hope’s temporary disapproval. She didn’t say much though, since she was interested in meeting Peter anyway, and she was pretty lenient on Eurovision night considering they all ended up going to bed far later than they were supposed to.

During dinner, Remus explained the details of this year’s Eurovision further so his friends knew what to expect.

“I know I said Britain don’t usually win, but we did last year actually, so the competition is being done here.”

“Aw, and we can’t go?”

“Of course not, it’s all the way up in England. I read it’s in Brighton or somewhere, in a place called the Dome. And it’d be bloody expensive to get tickets. The TV’s good enough. Better than listening to it on the radio, because at least you can see what the acts look like.”

“Why does that matter if they’re singing?”

“Oh believe me, it’s Eurovision. It matters.”

Dinner ended, and the group of six settled around on various sofas, switching the TV on and getting comfortable. The competition started in around twenty minutes, and Remus eagerly watched the fireplace.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Re,” said Lyall, noticing him staring at the empty grate. “I doubt Peter’s parents will let him–” Lyall could barely finish his sentence before the fireplace spewed out a mass of green flames and Peter appeared with a small travel bag in hand, smiling at them expectantly. The boys cheered and ran over to him.

“You made it!”

“Yeah, me mum said I could stay the night too, but only one night. We gotta go to my uncle’s house tomorrow.”

“Brilliant, we can all have a sleepover,” said Sirius.

“All of us sleeping in the same room?” began James sarcastically. “Wow, we’ve never done that before.” They went back to their seats in front of the TV.

“It’s different, cos we’re in Remus’s house this time instead of at school,” replied Sirius.

“Anyway,” interjected Peter. “What’s this Eurovision then?”

“I’m not saying a word,” said Remus. “You can just see for yourself.” The programme before the competition started was more of a recap of the countries that would be performing, and Peter started to get an idea of what it was about.

“So all the countries in Europe are performing?”

“Yeah, well… all the countries that made it through to the final.”

“Sounds cool.” When the Eurovision opening jingle played, the room settled down and excitedly waited for it to begin, listening to the introduction by Terry Wogan.

“He’s the commentator,” explained Remus. “He’s great, he’s on the radio all the time.”

The first act was eventually announced: Finland, and Terry Wogan introduced the act as Keep Me Warm by Carita. A dark-haired girl in a blue dress walked out and sat down at a white, grand piano.

“She’s pretty,” said Sirius. “I like her dress.”

“Really?” replied James. “Looks like something an old relative would wear.” Her sleeves were floral, the sort of floral that would pattern your nan’s table cloth, so Remus found himself agreeing with James.

“No, I like it,” affirmed Sirius. The song started in a burst of trumpets and trombones, temporarily drowning out her piano playing.

“Oh, her voice is lovely,” remarked Hope. The girl certainly did have a great voice, although Remus couldn’t work out if he liked the song or not. It was only the first act, so he didn’t want to love anything too soon, in case he ended up with far too many countries to vote for by the end of the night. He was extremely judgemental when it came to these sorts of competitions.

“It’s nothing that special,” he concluded.