/ Blocks were fun to play with, Remus had decided, for more reasons than one. You could build something up as high as yourself and knock it down and start all over again. They came in all of his favorite colors, some that looked like the leaves in autumn, the best season, some that looked like the ocean, which he had been to once, and some that looked like the grass, which he loved to run through on a summer day. Best of all, they fit into a little box that he could store under his bed, instead of in the playroom.
He knew it was 9:30, and he knew that Mummy and Daddy would be angry if they found out, but he had to play with them some more. So he got up and kneeled on the floor, peering under the bed. Instead of seeing his toy box, he was met with eyes. Horrible, cruel eyes. Remus practically leaped back into bed, wrapping himself in his blanket, heart racing. It was just his imagination. He was scared and was making things up. Mummy had said so. She told him that he was very smart, and very creative, and that was what made him get scared sometimes, when things weren't even there. Remus closed his eyes, his quick, shallow breaths slowing. Eventually, he fell asleep. And he had a nightmare. It must be a nightmare.
Remus woke up in St. Mungo's and knew it wasn't. His arm was wrapped up, covering the bite wound. He remembered pain, hearing Daddy shouting spells and Mummy crying but he thought it had been a bad dream, what had happened? He began to cry, and a Healer came over to try to help, but they couldn't help, not really. They couldn't take it away, they explained later, to him and Daddy and Mummy, there was no way to take it away. He didn't know what it was until the next month. And the next. And the next. And he felt the pain over and over, worse each time, but this time, there was no Daddy to rush in and fight off the monster, because he was the monster now. There was no Mummy to hold him and comfort his fears because it wasn't his imagination anymore. It was real, all too real. He knew it wasn't a nightmare because whenever he woke up, the scars were there with him.
/Remus didn't play anymore. He never played. He rarely laughed. From the late night conversations he heard, he supposed Mum and Dad were worried about him. They had been for six years. He had known ever since then. Remus wasn't allowed to play with the other children, because he might tell his secret. He knew that he probably wouldn't be able to go to school either. He had spent six years of full moons shut in a room, silenced and restrained by spells. He loved his parents. It wasn't their fault he needed to be hidden, controlled. It wasn't their fault he was a monster.
Remus was always the first to wake up. He would get a book and curl up in an armchair. Sometimes, it was a book on Magical Theory of his Dad's, sometimes a Muggle novel of Mum's. He would sit for hours, undisturbed even when Mum and Dad were awake. It was on such a morning that he heard a knock at the door, and was greeted on opening it by an old man. Remus was quite unused to visitors, but managed to stammer through a greeting, holding out until Mum and Dad got there. No introductions were necessary, which was even odder. It had been longer than Remus could remember since someone had come to the door so warmly referring to Mum and Dad 'Hope' and 'Lyall', rather than a cold 'Mr. and Mrs. Lupin'.
They went off to talk, and Remus sat back down-as much as he was itching to listen at the door, he felt that, somehow, the old man would know. And, somehow, he knew that he would be disappointed. And Remus didn't want that. So he waited, and waited, and finally they were done talking and came in and talked to him. They asked if he wanted to go to school. To Hogwarts, like Dad. To learn magic. Details were discussed, and Remus made sure he heard everything, got every instruction. Later he wrote down all of the rules, as well as one for himself. He would go to Hogwarts. He would learn magic. He would meet people. But he would not make friends. Friends were dangerous. Friends could hurt Mum and Dad, could get them in trouble. He would go and learn to conceal who he was-what he was. Because that was the safe thing to do.
/Remus hadn't been this scared since he was five. He was grown up now. He was twelve. He could handle it. That's what he told himself. The truth? He couldn't. Their voices kept coming back to him, whispers in the dark when they thought he was asleep. All three of them. They knew. Well, they knew something. He didn't know if they knew The Secret. That's how he always thought of it. The Secret. The Monster. He had tried to hard to hide it, but they were smart and they noticed him. He had tried to hide, but they hadn't let him. He loved them for it, and he hated them for it. And now that didn't matter. Because they knew and they would hate him now and he would have to leave. His breath was coming quickly inoutinoutinout. He tried to slow it, to think rationally. He could do something. He had to. But this wasn't in his plan.
He heard voices outside of the curtains. They were back. They were going to talk to him. They had decided last night. Remus choked down a wild sob threatening to escape and closed his eyes. He began to recite the names of goblins from the Goblin Uprising of 1547, and felt himself calm down and relax. History might put him to sleep, but it also calmed him down. James said his name like it was a question. How many times had they called to him. Shakily, Remus opened the curtains around his bed, meeting the three faces outside, all looking sympathetic and slightly scared. No, it had to be more than slightly. They knew about The Monster. How could they not be scared.
They cut straight to it. Five words ended his world. 'We know you're a werewolf.' His breath stopped, his gaze dropped. There were no tears, he couldn't register what was happening well enough for tears. Then, three more words, and it started again.
'Are you okay?' Remus' eyes shot back up to meet theirs. Was he okay? Were they worried about him? How could they be?
'We're not going to report you or anything.' 'Yeah, we don't care.' They didn't care?
'I care. It's bloody wicked.' No it wasn't. It wasn't cool or good in any way. But they didn't know that, because they hadn't experienced it. It didn't matter, because they didn't like it because it was cool or fun. They didn't like it at all. They liked him.
'You don't care?' It came out hoarse and weak but Remus didn't care. He felt weak.
'Of course not.' They said it like it was so simple. Like anyone would accept him in spite of The Monster. 'It's just a furry little problem, that's all.' In spite of himself, Remus smiled. Because somehow, having a "furry little problem" was easier than hiding a secret. It was easier than concealing a monster. And it was easier when there were three people who knew, and didn't care.
/Remus had woken up in the Hospital wing many times, but it had never been like this. The moons often hurt him, less so recently. But not like this. He felt the betrayal in his core as he remembered what had happened. As he realized what it meant. He wanted to cry, because he had been used. They hadn't been able to come down last night because Sirius had gotten detention after Snape had reported him for a half-finished prank on Slytherin. But Sirius had gotten his revenge.
Did he feel bad? Did he regret it? Remus pushed the thoughts away. He didn't want to have pity for Sirius, he wanted to be angry. He had been betrayed, he reminded himself. Used. But he couldn't be angry, in spite of everything. He was just sad. Hurt. Later that day, James and Peter brought him their notes and chatted with him. The next day he was back in class and they talked to him more. The school was whispering. Something had happened, and only five students knew what it was. And none of them were telling.
Remus did rounds that night, and Lily found him staring out the window, pain in his eyes. He remembered a white face and a wand being risen shakily. He remembered another form coming in and letting the first run away, then blocking the tunnel to prevent him from exiting. He had felt like a child again, restrained by his father's magic. He had been pushed back to the shack. He had woken up with the knowledge of the betrayal burned into his memories. Lily saw the pain.
'If it's hurting you so much, can't you forgive him?' Forgive him? For this?
'It's not that simple.' He couldn't just forgive Sirius. He had broken the unspoken agreement between the Marauders, scorned the bond of brotherhood for revenge. But the words burned into him, day and night. And eventually, he did. He was the first to forgive him. He had to be. It was his to forgive.
'Why?' I don't know, Remus wanted to say. You don't deserve it and I don't know. But he did know.
'I just do.' There wasn't a reason. He just felt it. He felt the forgiveness. They were brothers, and he wouldn't let that be broken by a mistake, no matter how bad it was.
/He wanted to avenge their deaths. He wanted to work as an auror, but he couldn't because they didn't allow his type in their office. He wanted to honor their memories. He wanted to raise their son, but he couldn't, because he'll be much safer with Lily's family. Remus felt trapped. Three of his best friends were dead. The man responsible for their deaths had betrayed him once again. He was rotting in prison but he was alive. He couldn't believe it. Dumbledore had brought the news himself, and Remus knew Sirius would never, he knew it at his very core, but what could he do? A simple testimony of character wouldn't stand up against such facts, especially not one given by him.
He arranged the funeral. It was beautiful. Many people came, but none of the important ones were there. All of James and Lily's friends were dead or in hiding except him. He knelt by their graves after they were filled and laid flowers by the stones and walked away crying. It was a sunny day and it was wrong. The world should be mourning. Everyone was rejoicing at the death of Voldemort, but Remus went home and mourned for the cost. He knew he had to continue on, that James would have wanted him to. So he tried. He was qualified to work at St. Mungo's, or at the Ministry or at Hogwarts, or near anywhere else. But he couldn't work there. He couldn't even work at the bookstore. They wouldn't let him. Of course, not everyone asked right away, but they would find out, eventually. Instead, Remus looked to the Muggle world.
He had no qualifications. As far as they were convinced, all he had was a high school degree, and that very tentative, since it was based solely on his mother's tutelage and testing before her death. So Remus worked odd jobs at small shops, quitting and moving on whenever coworkers got too interested, asking about the days he took off, asking about his scars, asking him if he wanted to get drinks. No attachments. That's what he had learned. It only made being alone hurt worse. It only made it harder to move on.
/Remus knew she loved him when they went to the Leaky Cauldron after a mission. They sat talking for hours, as they had before, and he took her home, and she turned and looked in his eyes, right in his eyes, and said that she didn't care that he was a werewolf. He knew she didn't care, right. His heart dropped because it wasn't a friendly reminder, it was passionate and heartfelt and desperate, everything he couldn't let it be. He affirmed that he knew and left quickly, and when they were assigned to a mission together again, he swapped out with Kingsley under the pretense that it would be less suspicious if he were seen with Tonks. Maybe she would fall in love with him instead.
Remus knew that he loved her when he heard the umbrella case get knocked over. Walburga's portrait began to shout and Sirius along with her and Molly was reprimanding her but Remus sat still, too still, questioning what the quickened pace of his heart meant, the rush of joy that he would get to see her. He couldn't be... He was too old, too broken, too scarred by life. Too monstrous. He couldn't let himself love her. He had to push it down, get rid of the feeling. But he did love her. That was the very reason he knew he couldn't. Because to love her, and to let her love him... that would only hurt her.
So he hid. Remus built up a wall (he had always been good at that). He surrounded himself with it. But she broke through, and they were in love, and then they were married, and then she was pregnant. Remus ran, he ran so far because a wall hadn't helped, so he had to get out. But then he ran home. He ran back to her, and back to their baby, their perfect baby, and she forgave him, for the same reason he had forgiven Sirius all those years ago. She just did. He loved her, and she loved him, and no furry little problem could come between that.