I

14th August, 1972

Dear James,

You are one of the kindest people I've known, mind you, not that I have known many people. However, I have to agree with Lily and Marlene about you being silly and bigheaded and absolutely blind even with your glasses on.

Can you not see that Lily doesn't like your bothering her? (Why don't you bother me instead? I wouldn't have minded.) She is not even being subtle, although she words her rejection very politely – I suspect she's being sarcastic – point is, Peter and I can feel it too. You are so smitten that you don't even notice other things, or people, or me, to say the least. She said you had a smell once. I joked that you shower once a month, but I know very well that the smell comes from Peter's pants that Sirius has put under your pillow. Got ya.

Funny that the hex Lily planned for you was shot at me instead, thank you very much for her poor aim, but then I got you by my side for two whole weeks in addition to the full moon.

Thank you very much for that, it will always hold a dear place in my heart. I truly hope you'll get your happy ending with Lily one day, but I do pray your poor vision isn't inheritable.

Love,

Remus J. Lupin

James had been avoiding him for days. Remus hadn't noticed it at first, but when James wanted to play subtle, he never played it right. That was how Remus found out that something was off when James tripped over his broom (he never did) with a bowl of pudding and eggs all over his head just because he looked Remus's way accidentally.

'Prongs,' Remus tried, one day when he and James were in the dorm alone. He wasn't used to being the one doing the cornering, but when he did, he put one hand on each side of James, pinning him to the wall. He was still an inch or so shorter than James, his casually knotted tie and sweater with elbow patches made him look like an absolute swot – albeit a dangerous one.

'What – what?' James's cheeks were very pink, his blush blossoming on the sun tanned cheeks. His large, horn-rimmed glasses had fogged up; Remus wasn't sure if that was James's Quidditch-induced sweat or his own breaths.

'I don't shower once a month!' James blurted out despite himself, breaking the tension.

'Alright,' said Remus, completely flummoxed. 'I don't have a problem with that. You could do that yearly, too, and I'd be just as fine.'

'I mean,' James coloured harder, 'I shower twice a day! And Peter's sodding pants –'

Some sort of understanding dawned on Remus. 'Wasn't that back in second year?'

'Yeah, but you told Lily in your letter –'

Oh. Oh. Remus felt his bottom drop out of his stomach. He released James frantically and ran in the direction of his bed, not even turning when James demanded he explain the relationship between poor vision and inheritance. When he tossed aside his trunk and socks and jumpers and quills, he reached desperately for the shoebox underneath.

It was empty.

II

2nd July, 1971

Dear Andromeda,

We haven't properly spoken before, and I doubt you even know me other than one of Sirius's friends. Thank you for your little head-ups whenever Malfoy and his girlfriend came along, and thank you so much for covering for me. Mrs. Black is truly a terrifying woman. She would've killed me on the spot if you hadn't interfered – Mr Malfoy had recognised me right away, and it puzzles me still to this day. I guess it's my dad he knew. People always say I'm my dad's baby doppelganger.

Goodbye. This is the last day I will see you. I cannot express how sad it is for me to see you leave. Ted is a good person, he can give you much more than I could ever offer. This letter will follow me to the grave, but if one day you did come across this letter, you would know that you have left a mark in me forever.

Lots of love,

Remus J. Lupin

The brown school owl delivered Remus a package, the telltale rainbow wrap paper every time Andromeda sent something made Remus sweat. That woman loved her daughter more dearly than her own life, and little Nymphadora loved rainbows. Besides, she didn't forget to make it as fancy as the Black letters were dull. James's gaze followed it curiously. Since Peter did everything James did, he stared at it curiously too.

'What?' Remus huffed. He jabbed his fork more forcefully than he had intended. This, unfortunately, had also attracted Sirius's attention.

James's big mouth opened unhelpfully. 'You wrote –'

'Essays, reports, diary, yeah,' Remus spluttered, not forgetting to leave out letters. 'All sorts. That's my dream career, writing. So, Wormtail, how's the Charms essay you're working on?'

'Still a few inches short,' replied Peter easily, buttering his toast. He had finally looked away because James had done so, but what Peter didn't see was James's smug look that Remus hated so much. 'Guess I'll have to write bigger.'

'Andromeda?' James doubled over, not even making an effort to hide his laughter. 'Seriously, Moony, you fancied Andromeda?'

'I did not fancy her,' Remus clenched his jaw. 'And might I remind you that was a very long time ago. I probably only wanted to thank her.'

'Yeah right, and you compared yourself to Ted and said some soppy things. Honestly, how many romance novels did you stuff in that little head of yours that you were capable of writing a breakup letter at age eleven?' James wiped away his tears that were resulted from laughing too hard.

'It's not a breakup letter, it's just a causal thank-you note,' Remus insisted.

He thought of the tall, elegant lady with wavy brown hair and heavy-lidded eyes that spoke of contempt and rebellion. He thought of her flowing green cloak, of her hastily putting it on over the argyle Muggle waistcoat that she was wearing and still appeared unbothered and haughty. Standing up against power and embracing herself, a fierce woman she was, a burning emerald. That was exactly what gained herself the worshipful admiration of the eleven-year-old Remus Lupin.

He cast a glance he hoped was smoldering enough at James, cursing God and Merlin and everything in between for his damn letter. Letters.

James was still snickering at the clay tomb that Andromeda had neatly wrapped together with Remus's letter and a note saying 'Don't fret yourself – your letter will never see light and has indeed followed you to the grave as you wish, built by a thrilled Nymphadora and an extremely flattered me.' Suddenly, he looked up and whistled.

'Hey Moony? I've got an idea.'

III

25th December, 1973

Dear Professor Frohlstein,

Happy Christmas! Don't worry about me, full moon was yesterday and I am very well taken care of in the hospital wing. If I could, I would come to your office personally, but Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let me. If James would lend me his cloak and not be nosey about it, I would sneak into your office just to see you mark the papers, or how light and shadow dance across your face – Oh! To be in love!

Defence class has always been what I most look forward to, and you, you just make it ten times more fun. Thank you so much for your private lessons. Once James asked me why my cheeks were so red and I blamed the wind. I couldn't possibly say it was you who spread roses on my face, could I?

You might have stopped tutoring me privately because of last Tuesday – but really, I don't mind. How can I, when I myself am head over heels in love with you? I know that feeling. We're in the same boat, and I'm worse because I am a werewolf and a student and gay, and you're at least human. You and he deserve just as much respect as each one of us does. And I – I'll just be who I have always been – your student and friend.

Yours forever,

Remus J. Lupin

Dumbledore looked at him through his half-moon spectacles, his expression calm and gentle.

'It has come to my attention that you have posted this letter to the Defence Office, Mr Lupin,' he said, an envelope between his long fingers. 'Unfortunately, as you may have well realised, Professor Erik Frohlstein is no longer teaching at Hogwarts. I think we can all agree that we do miss him – and personally, his homemade shortbread – a lot, don't we?'

Remus swallowed the great lump in his throat, which had suddenly become very dry. 'Y-yes, professor,' his knuckles were white against the red velvet cushion on the couch he was sitting on, 'I actually didn't know about his shortbre – um, what I'm trying to say is, the letter got sent out accidentally. I wrote that quite a while ago, and…'

'I understand,' Dumbledore took a sip of his sherbet lemon gin. 'I also find writing a healthy leisure. Clearing your thoughts, and letting go, for example.' He gestured vaguely at a cabinet behind him. Remus supposed the old man had stored stacks of letters in there, so he nodded.

Milk and biscuit was what he was offered. Remus dipped the biscuit absentmindedly into the milk, a habit he'd developed as early as a child at home – and asked before he could catch himself, 'How's Professor Frohlstein doing?'

He blushed immensely after that. Dumbledore either didn't notice or chose not to comment on it. 'A very talented young man from Durmstrang, indeed,' remarked the Headmaster, 'I hear he is doing quite well with his business in Hong Kong, and – ah, that reminds me. Perhaps I can post the letter for you, if you still wish to do so.' He conjured a small piece of parchment, his spidery handwriting on it which read 'Erik Frohlstein-Wong, Lantau Island, Hong Kong.'

Dumbledore clapped cheerily. 'Well, now we know why your letter hasn't been posted. Normally, the magical owls are able to deliver the letters no matter where the recipient is located. In your case, however, half of the surname is missing,' he explained. Perhaps the gin got him tipsy, Dumbledore was ridiculously talkative today, Remus observed. 'Mr Wong is a skillful wizard. Didn't get the chance to teach him myself, hmmm.'

For some reason, Remus's heart sank. 'There's no need to do so, professor,' he said, suddenly feeling very timid and empty inside. 'But thank you for the offer.'

Remus walked with his head hung low. He nearly bumped into James outside the office. He was still in his Quidditch robes, the bristles on his broom as haywire as his hair which was stringing with beads of sweat.

'Another letter?' asked James, peeking at the envelope with all his subtlety.

'Nothing like that,' Remus tucked it into his pocket hurriedly.

James seemed to have filtered Remus's words. 'I hear Dumbledore wanted to see you because of a letter to a teacher.'

'Who said I wrote a letter to Frohlstein?' Remus said loudly and regretted it the moment the words were out of his mouth. A smug look appeared on James's face, his previous solemnity diffusing. Bloody James and his bloody trap.

'Did you consider my suggestion?' asked James. That was the fifth time he mentioned it in the week.

'That's fucking blackmail, Potter,' snapped Remus.

'I suppose you can see it that way,' James shrugged. He didn't deny the accusation. 'But you owe me. Remind me, what's the seventh rule in section 4, The Marauders Code of Conduct, Third Edition?'

'"Never bad-mouth a Marauder in front of specific people listed in Appendix I,"' answered Remus reluctantly.

'And who is said specific person that I put down?'

'Lily Evans,' Remus mumbled. That, to his dismay, had never been removed from Appendix I since first year.

'That's right,' James clapped his hands. 'You owe me.'

IV

8th August, 1974

Dear Dearborn,

I call you Dearborn because I actually don't know your first name. I was the one you were dared to kiss in the pub, remember? You probably do because Sirius fucking Black poured his fucking firewhiskey all over me. That prick, so determined to embarrass me, he is.

Oh, why am I talking about Sirius? I want to talk about you. I reckon I don't actually know anything about you, but here I am, daydreaming and procrastinating. Do you have someone already? If I say hi to you, will you notice me among the waves of girls? Would you mind that I am a werewolf? – It's the only place I'll say it so smoothly and loud!

But of course I can't let you know that. So here, I let you go – into the wind, with the courage I've plucked up, with all my passion and everything I could only say in a letter.

Yours,

RL

'Don't stick your hand in my trousers, we talked about this,' Remus warned, squirming under James's all-around presence. 'Besides, Sirius is looking at us.'

'Sirius can look all he wants,' James shrugged, his hand still in Remus's pocket, almost squashing his balls the way he was balling up his fist. But in reality he was just nervous, Remus knew. 'Our aim is to get Lily and Dearborn look at us.'

'Do be quiet!' Remus hissed. 'Did you not tell Sirius about your shit plan?'

'No, of course not,' said James incredulously. 'He will spill everything with his ridiculous big mouth – Oh wait, Lily's passing,' James tightened his grip on Remus suddenly. Without warning, he crushed a full-on sloppy smack on Remus's lips.

'WELp!' Remus jumped, trying to push James away, but the Gryffindor Chaser was as hard (no pun intended) as an iron wall and simply refused to move.

'Smack smack smack smack smack –' James was too busy making that revolting smacking sound to look behind him. Later on, he would very much regret it because it was the rarest sight Hogwarts had ever saw: Lily Evans and Sirius Black standing together, shoulder to shoulder, their expression equally murderous, their wands raised –

There wasn't even enough time for Remus to scream 'Fuck you James' before he fell tumbling to the floor, James's all-protein-and-muscle body on top of him, crushing him into pieces.

There was a sound on the door to the Hospital Wing. Remus felt his heart in his throat, threatening to roll out with its thunderous thuds.

'Moony?' Sirius's sleek hair got his attention first. For a second, he was panicked and excited and giddy – all sorts of weirdly inappropriate emotions. According to James, he should be expecting Dearborn, whom James had made sure to be present when they kissed. But to say he was disappointed wasn't quite right either – Sirius had come, and his heart rate quickened.

'Hi,' Remus managed.

'You alright?' Sirius's voice was very tight. He sat down beside the bed, guilt and something else Remus couldn't quite place written all over his features.

'I, I didn't think of your bad ankle,' said Sirius abruptly, the waning moon behind him only missing a slight edge that normal people wouldn't even have noticed. 'James is a twat, what was he thinking –?'

'We're dating.' The words left Remus's lips before could stop himself. He stiffened immediately.

'Oh,' was the only response Sirius gave.

They talked a bit longer after that, Sirius telling Remus about James dancing on the table after recovering from the hex, though it was suspected that he suffered a minor concussion and was yet to be right in the head, and Remus talking about the book he was just reading before Sirius came in. Neither of them touched on the subject of James and Remus becoming a thing. Dating. Together together.

Only they were not. James blackmailed Remus into fake dating so that Lily and Dearborn would notice them, and what did they get in return? A hex from Lily and Sirius.

And Dearborn didn't so much as spare him a glance, thought Remus miserably.

Sirius didn't say anything after that night, but Remus discovered that he'd been tagging along at an increasingly frequent rate.

'We're going to J. Pippin's Potions,' James frowned, Remus's arm securely looped around his. 'I mean, as a date. Can't you go play with Wormtail?'

'I don't want to go play with Wormtail,' Sirius whined. 'The little sod is out with his bird. I'd rather stick with you lot.'

'Give us some privacy,' James said. And to show he really meant it, he gave Remus another sloppy wet kiss which nearly turned into a snog.

'Alright! Point made!' Sirius yelled, his face red with fury. 'What the fuck is there to see in J. Pippin's anyway?'

He stormed away, kicking the snow around him as he left. As soon as he was out of earshot, Remus turned to James, his temper rising. 'He's right, what the fuck is there to see in a fucking potions shop?'

James, on the other hand, was whistling with delight. 'Lily will be there buying beetle lungs for Slughorn. Dearborn might be around too, I overheard his friends. Golden chance, you don't want to miss it.'

Remus didn't reply after that. He was not feeling particularly upbeat about seeing Dearborn, after all.

To his surprise, they bumped head-on into the well-built Hufflepuff Beater the moment they stepped into J. Pippin's Potions.

'Dearborn!' James piped up. Remus wanted to punch him in the face.

'Potter,' Dearborn straightened up from where he was leaning against the shelf. It looked like he had been waiting for them. 'And Lupin, is it?'

Remus's heart thrummed madly against his ribcage. 'Yes?'

'Is it alright if Lupin and I –' Dearborn surveyed their surroundings, '– have a little chat?'

'Of course. I'll be around,' James clapped on Remus's shoulder. And then it was but Remus and Dearborn alone among the shelves of ingredients.

'I guess I haven't introduced myself properly,' Dearborn smiled, his teeth pearly against his lips. Remus had to admit he was one of the fittest boys in Hogwarts. 'I'm Caradoc Dearborn, a seventh-year Hufflepuff. We met in the pub before, eh?'

'I think so,' mumbled Remus. And then he drew in a deep breath, thought a bit, putting on an air of calmness. 'That's a foggy memory. So long ago. I don't even remember the details.'

'Don't you?' Dearborn looked amused, but then he collected himself and his seriousness returned. 'Actually, I was going to say that you needn't be embarrassed about that. It was I who should be sorry. I…' he made a pause before he continued, and Remus braced himself for the blow. 'I had meant that kiss to happen. It wasn't just a dare.'

Remus blinked. What?

'I knew I was rather forward, I didn't mean to scare you,' said Dearborn quickly. 'Just that… I didn't know how you felt at that time – perhaps we can try things out – that is, if you're still interested?'

Remus was lost for words. He thought he was the one pining stupidly in his own world, not the other way round. How things had taken a surprising turn.

'I…' Remus said, still confused. 'I'm not sure I am, really. Sorry.'

'I understand,' Dearborn stooped, looking disappointed. 'But if you're holding back because of your – secret, I want you to know that I don't mind at all.'

A chill rose up Remus's spine. 'What secret?'

'You said it in your letter,' Dearborn chewed on his lip. 'Your identity. It's not a problem for me.'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' said Remus loudly, nearly losing his footing. The long forgotten memory finally caught up to him. Of course he knew what he was talking about – he had spilled his secret of his lycanthropy in a letter that was never meant to be sent in the first place.

'I just want to make it clear,' Remus said again, in between heavy breaths, 'when I write, it means I want things to end. I'm sorry things turned out this way but that's what it is.'

It came out more rudely than he intended, but his fear overrode his rational side. But it seemed that Dearborn took it rather lightly; there was a light from deep inside his eye.

'It's okay,' Dearborn said, 'but I still want you to know that it's not a problem for me. I won't tell anyone. I swear on my life.'

What he did afterwards was a blur to Remus – maybe he said something else, maybe he said goodbye right away. Remus was clutching the shelf hard, gasping for breath, thinking things wouldn't get any worse when life proved it otherwise –

'So this is all the whole dating thing is about, isn't it? Letters?'

Remus spun on his heels. A mass of black hair was hanging in midair, the face below it surly and haughtily handsome.

'Bloody hell!' Remus yelped, jumping back. He then reached out and grabbed blindly, finally pulling off the Invisibility Clock from his friend.

'How long have you been there?' he demanded.

Sirius ignored his question. 'Did James bribe you into this? So that you'd get Dearborn and he Evans?'

'Bribe?' Remus's nostrils flared. 'He blackmailed me! If I didn't do as he said, he'd tell everyone about the letters! As if I haven't had enough trouble already. How should I ever look in Andromeda's eyes again? '

'Andromeda is flattered, needless to say, the vain woman,' Sirius mumbled, mockingly but not unpleasantly. 'I should've known better when she sent you the rainbow package out of the blue.'

They fell into silence. Remus fidgeted with the hem of his jumper, looking at anywhere but Sirius. When the silence became so unbearable that Remus finally looked up, Sirius caught his eye and asked, 'Why say no? He's very… sweet. Accepting.'

Remus shrugged. 'It's a goodbye letter, after all.'

The quiver in his voice gave him away. Sirius's eyes gleamed.

'I can Obliviate him,' he offered. 'If they ever find out, it will only lead back to me.'

Something deep inside Remus stirred. 'Thank you, but it's fine that way,' he said truthfully. He was still replaying his conversation with Dearborn in his mind. Amidst his awe and muddled thoughts, an afterthought slipped out through the lowered guard: 'How miraculous! He accepts me.'

Sirius looked at him, his pupils strangely large. 'I do, too.'

Startled, Remus turned around. He tripped over his robes as Sirius turned, leaning to catch him, and it was that exact moment that their cheeks brushed – soft and hot and yearning.

'Thanks,' Remus quaked, for Sirius's catching him – and something more. Sirius removed his arm, his fingertip lingering for a moment longer than was necessary. A sudden spark ignited in their touching skin, spreading a flow of electricity through their clothes, along the veins, into their hearts.

'Let's go to Rosmerta's,' said Sirius at last, a bit nervously. 'I need a drink.'

'Yeah, let's,' agreed Remus. He cast a glance through the shelves and caught a flash of red hair. 'Prongs is on the other side bugging Lily anyway.'

'As long as he's not buggering her, I'm good.'

They broke into a fit of laughter, thriving in the newfound understanding between them.

V

The contract between Remus and James came to an end unannounced. James was still tirelessly after Lily, and Peter was making progress with his girlfriend. Nothing seemed to have changed for Remus either, but he was content. He found joy in diving into the sea of Defence magic, in exploring the new tricks they invented, in being with his friends, in being with Sirius.

This peaceful equilibrium was disturbed after a night in November. The white bedsheet in the Hospital Wing smelled of acid, too poignant, too unwelcoming even though Remus had been here enough times that he could walk around with his eyes closed.

Madame Pomfrey had looked strangely worried when he came around. His left arm was dislocated, his thigh bone was fractured along with a few of his ribs, but other than that he was fine – as fine as he could be, anyway.

'Mr Black and Mr Potter are in the Headmaster office,' she'd said.

'Oh,' Remus had replied, and that was everything he needed to connect the dots. The scent of human flesh, the rush of adrenaline, the sudden desire to devour. And then Prongs became a human, Padfoot's laughs turned into horrified barks, and the shouts and light and shadow and splinters and howls made him giddy.

He asked Madam Pomfrey for a parchment and a quill. He sat up, with the matron's help, the pillows on his back supporting him. He needed to get his thought out, to clear his head, as his Headmaster once suggested.

Someone knocked on the door. For a second Remus was drawn back into the memory of him lying on the same bed with his ankle broken, anticipating Dearborn's visit – or so he'd thought. Only it was the same as last time: Sirius's head poked out from the door, hesitating, before he finally decided to step in.

He tiptoed inside as though he wished not to want to disturb the silence within, or, as Remus observed, the rising tension between them. Sirius stopped when he saw the parchment and quill on Remus's knees.

'Is that – your letter for me?' he asked, his expression a mixture of mirth, sadness, guilt and disbelief.

Remus tilted his head to the side, regarding Sirius quietly. That actually reminded him – to put things in a letter. So many things he'd wanted to say but never said. So many thoughts, so many feelings. He would want to tell Sirius everything, of course; but he also knew what Sirius had done, and in doing so, he had risked everything – friendship, trust, and that something more he couldn't quite place – between them. So Remus decided to pour his heart out to the parchment instead.

It felt very different to writing to Frohlstein or Dearborn or anyone else, really. He was going to write to someone whom he knew heart to heart, someone who he was used to looking up close and real. So real that he was able to feel happy and sad and angry with him instead of pure infatuation he had felt in the past.

Would it be a goodbye letter as Sirius himself had suggested? Maybe, or maybe not. Sirius deserved his punishment – not only from the school rule book, but from Remus and maybe himself, too. But goodbye doesn't have to be forever, that Remus was sure. It could be a temporary parting – or a new beginning. It didn't matter yet, Remus decided; for now, getting his mind clear was what he needed most.

So flattening the parchment, dipping his quill into the ink box on the nightstand, he started writing:

Dear Sirius…