What He Wants
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the amazing world of Harry Potter. People like me, so utterly impressed by her genius, borrow her characters/settings/etc for no personal gain.
Summary: Remus has long stopped daring to want. As Sirius comes to take notice, Remus finds that he can no longer hide behind the will of others…
Notes: Awh man. This has been in the works for so long, but it's been stunted at where this part ends. I have the whole narration planned out and everything and still it's just not making it into writing. It was originally meant to be a oneshot, but since I've hit a solid block, I'm going to post it in parts in the hope that that'll motivate me. Overall, I don't imagine this going past being three parts.
I've decided to write it in the present tense because i) I've not had much practice with that, and ii) I think it creates an impact that the overtly used past tense lacks and thus conveys more clearly what I am trying to bring forward.
Please enjoy. I will attempt to get part two written and up within the next little while.
xx
The toyshop is bustling with excited children and harried parents. Five year old Remus stares with wide eyes at the colorful aisles teemed with every kind of toy imaginable. It is every child's dream: enchanted puppets swirling in dance, miniature broomsticks whizzing out of reach, toy trains screeching to a halt and disappearing behind their own clouds of purple smoke. The noise is wild as the merchandise pops, whistles, sings, and roars, and the movement is dizzying: toy soldiers marching in a line down the shelf, boxes repeatedly opening with something different emerging every time, and play disks soaring over the heads of the shoppers. The children squeal in delight and escape the clutches of their parents.
Remus stands in aisle number seven and seizes the object of his desires: a squeaking plush mouse that wiggles between his tight grip, attempting to get away. He turns to his mother.
"This one!"
"Now, now, Remmie," his mother says, attempting to coax the stuffed toy from his grip, "That's too expensive, dear… how about—"
"No!" Remus says, looking half imploring and half defiant, "I want this one!"
They emerge into the wizarding street ten minutes later with Remus happily clutching the mouse.
Six months later he is bitten, and Momo the mouse crawls under his bed and remains there, forgotten.
xx
Six year old Remus couldn't understand the pain, and couldn't remember what caused it at all. It is dawn and he lays on the floor of the basement, whimpering.
He hears a noise and moments later both his parents hurry inward and begin tending to him. Remus trembles and he is bleeding and in so much pain. He wants his mother to take it all away, he wants to demand it never happen again!
But instead he curls into a small ball and cries.
xx
The Lupins sit at the breakfast table, and the mood is not unlike the usual affair: quiet and detached. But still eleven year old Remus thinks that it feels a little bit different, a little bit strained.
"Remus, dear," his mother says and Remus looks up from his barely touched food in relief, "There's something your father and I need to talk to you about…"
He nods, willing her to continue. She shares a glance with her husband and then turns back to their son.
"Love, I've noticed that you've been keeping an eye out lately… waiting for something…" before Remus could reply, she continues quickly, "We—your father and I, that is—we don't think that you should keep looking out for your letter. You see, well," she hesitates and shoots her husband another glance, "We don't think that you going away for school is the best option."
Remus looks at his parents stonily. He feels a sudden embarrassment or shame that he had been so obvious with his wish to be recruited to the magnificent wizarding school, Hogwarts. Then he averts his eyes and picks at his food.
"Okay," he breathes.
Silence meets his answer, and after a moment he looks up again. His mother looks distressed and tense, his father apprehensive. He knows that they are expecting a more passionate response: him reeling back in anger or disappointment, or making demands of them to send him away.
So he looks down again and assures them, "It's okay."
"Don't worry dear," his mother says at once, "We'll have you well tutored here, from home. You're an intelligent boy and you'll get far in your studies, I'm sure, and—"
She goes on and on, but Remus doesn't look up and barely listens. His lips curl down.
No matter what his mother says or how much his father might agree with her, Remus knows the truth. The school didn't want him because of that. He was abnormal.
It didn't matter how much he wanted to go.
xx
Remus doesn't want to study, he thinks; not from home anyway. But his mother wants him to and so he comes downstairs to meet his tutor in the drawing room three times a week with a forced smile.
He throws himself into learning and practices late into the night, and tries to ignore the monthly nightmare of his life. He is studious and obedient, and though his heart is not in it Remus does it to his best ability.
Because when his father asks him to show what he'd learned and he sees the pride in his parents' eyes he thinks that what they want matters the most.
xx
When he receives a sealed letter in the summer after he turns twelve, inviting him to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Remus' hands tremble with anger. His mother throws her arms around him delightedly and doesn't seem aware of the storm brewing within.
"You've always wanted to go, didn't you, Remmie?" she exclaims, her face shining happily, "You've done so well with your tutor but Hogwarts will be great! It will be amazing!"
His father lays a heavy, comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Headmaster Dumbledore is a great man, son," he says, "Everything has been arranged for your arrival and you'll be starting as a second year in the fall."
Remus doesn't want to go anymore, he thinks. Especially not when things have to be arranged for the likes of him. So he looks up, about to burst out with as much, and instead sees the happy, imploring looks in his parents eyes.
"Yes," Remus says. The letter flutters from his fingertips to the floor.
He doesn't know why the school suddenly wants him, but he'll go, if that is what his parents want.
xx
Remus is alone and timid, the subject of much speculation, until his dormitory mates take it upon themselves to befriend him.
"Remus," a handsome, popular troublemaker by the name of Sirius says one evening, as Remus is getting ready to disappear behind the curtains of his four-poster, "That's an interesting name."
Remus shoots him a fleeting look, but doesn't know what to say so he stays silent. He watches as James, Sirius' mischief-making twin, smacks the boy upside the head. James approaches and sits tentatively on the edge of Remus' mattress. The third boy, Peter, comes to stand beside the bedside table.
"What he means is," James says, giving the pouting Sirius a glare, "We've noticed that you're really reserved, mate. Why don't you hang out with us once in a while?"
There is a long moment of anticipation as Remus glances from boy to boy awkwardly. His right hand is fidgeting with his left sleeve. He doesn't think that the best course of action is to take up offers of friendship. James gives him an expectant half-smile.
Remus says, "I-I—"
"You can sit with us tomorrow," James presses, "Just try it? If you don't like it then that's that."
Sirius nods in confirmation, as though the issue had been well discussed before it was carried out. Remus falters, not knowing what to say. He'd had little contact with people since the incident, and doesn't know how to deal with such an imploring, considerate offer.
"I… guess," he says quietly at last, and is happy that he did so at the smiles that cross the boys' faces.
"Great!" James exclaims, claps him on the shoulder and clambers off. Peter wanders away to his bed while Sirius salutes Remus from his perch. The mood is lighter as the boys fall back and chitchat for a while before quiet falls and they succumb to sleep.
Remus lays awake silently.
They want to, he justifies to himself.
xx
In third year the four boys, now dubbing themselves the Marauders, pull a prank and unfailingly cross the wrath of their favorite professor, McGonagall.
"Ah, dear Minnie," Sirius sighs as the marauders relentlessly reshelf a gigantic section of the library into correct order for detention, "I think my arms are going to fall off by the end of the night."
Remus snorts. His arms, too, are aching from the heavy leather-bound books. They hear a hiss and glance sideways to see Madame Pince's suspicious scowl.
"Keep it down," she croaks at them, then turns her baleful stare toward Peter and James, who scurry into a second aisle. She stalks after them.
Sirius turns to Remus, mindless of the warning, "Still, that prank was magnificent. Totally worth it. Did you see Snivellus' face when the suits of armor starting running after him? Priceless!" he pauses to chuckle, and Remus smirks despite himself, "Next time, I'm going to charm that hump-backed witch, the one by the secret passage, to stalk Snivellus all day with deep, heartfelt confessions of deepest desire…"
"There will be no next time," Remus objects disapprovingly, even as he chuckles.
"There will be," Sirius says mildly, and forces a thick tome into one of the shelves before adding casually, "Oh, and by the way, we know you're a werewolf."
Remus freezes from where he was about to deposit a book in between two gigantic tomes. He slowly turns around with frightened eyes and the book tumbles from his hand and smacks resoundingly on the floor.
Sirius stares at him cautiously, and opens his mouth but is interrupted with Madame Pince whooshing around the corner. Her eyes travel from Remus, to the book, to Sirius, and to the book again. Her nostrils flare as she lets out a loud hiss and begins to rant about the proper handling of her precious books.
A few hours later as the four exhausted boys trudge back to the dormitory, Remus lags behind. His chest is heavy and tight and seems to threaten to be consumed by panic. But then Sirius lags behind too, ushering the two other boys onwards.
"You alright?" he asks.
Remus recoils, disgusted with himself. He cannot bring himself to meet the other's eyes.
Sirius sighs, then says, "Hey, about that," his voice is quiet, "It's okay. We know. You should have told us from the beginning."
Remus cannot find his voice.
"It's okay," Sirius emphasizes, "We've known for a while. Had our time to get used to it and everything."
He grins at Remus until the lycanthrope looks up.
"B-but—" he stutters.
"For god's sake. You were always a, a," Sirius hushes his voice, "a werewolf. And we liked you just fine. Knowing about it won't make any difference. You're still the same person."
Remus hesitates, "…Really?"
"Really," Sirius nods, "Just, next time, don't hide something like this from us. If you, say, also happen to be a vampire or something, well, you know, let us know soon." He grins jokingly and Remus rolls his eyes.
"And James? Peter?"
"No worries," Sirius waves his hand about as they continue on their way, "They don't care. We're your friends. We still want to be your friends."
And Remus' heart burns.
xx
I'd greatly appreciate a review.