Author's Note:
I sometimes hold it half a sin
To put in words the love I feel;
For words, like Nature, half reveal
And half conceal the Soul within.
Dear Lynn,
I'm not quite sure why I'm writing this letter, to tell the truth. Maybe it's all in hope of a response, a chance that the envelope will smell like you and then I won't be so far away. It's colder here than March has a right to be, grayer too without you. Just so you know that I'm not embellishing for the sake of romance, I've included a picture of the overcast sky and the garden Mrs. Thisby had put in while I was in London, with you. She's always eager to improve the grounds while housesitting, suppose she feels some pity for me. Or the flowers. I might be in the picture as well, but more likely I'm hiding behind the heather so as not to upset you. I'm afraid I do look a tad moribund, but I'm feeling much better now, apart from missing you and our conversations. You'll be glad to know that I spoke with Madam Hooch this past weekend on a shopping trip to Hogsmeade. I even asked what she knew about Stewart and she said that he's proven to be an excellent flyer and has a good chance of making the team next year. But that still won't stop Gryffindor from beating the feathers off those Ravenclaws when Quidditch resumes. Sorry, my house pride does come out sometimes. When Madam Hooch asked how I was familiar with your son, I told her you were a friend of mine. I hope, after how we parted, that is still true. I can't express in words how I would feel if it wasn't. For now, I'm considering returning to London by the month's end. Not to stay, because my reasons for leaving stand. But I've lost too many people to my fear of the moon and you deserve more than a spot on the list. You deserve everything. Maybe that's the problem. But I'd like to explain it to you before I move on again. Please say you'll meet with me.
Yours,
Remus J. Lupin
Remus,
Is everything about you infuriating or is it just your personality? Or writing style? Most people would beg for forgiveness first and then make with the small talk to fill the awkward silence, but oh no, you take the long road to its ridiculous conclusion. Of course you're still my friend! I'm not going to let the fact that you left me here with nothing more than a goodbye stop me from caring for you. Listen to us. "Friend." "Care." Are we forgetting that night? When I ripped off your clothes and you captured my lips before I had the chance to explain that I never do things like that? I do hope you're blushing now. Did you know how often I made you blush? God, I miss that. I miss you. You bastard! How dare you just leave? Yes, of course I'll meet with you. I must have missed those reasons you mentioned. I remember "I'm leaving." And then your lips moving, but all I could see were those lips, thinking about what they had done to me the night before and what they'd never do again if you really left. I was about to yell at you for it until I realized you had already walked out the door. I'm glad you were able to see a friendly face at Hogsmeade. And I don't blame you for cheering for Gryffindor. I was tempted to do the same when we were at Hogwarts, what with the boys you had on your side. Of course, I'll deny it if Stewart ever asks.
Oh, there you are! Sorry, I've just returned to this letter after running out for a bite to eat (I miss your Cornish hens, by the way) and I've finally caught a glimpse of you in the garden, under a not exceedingly gray sky, if you ask me. And you do look dreadful, Remus. I know you said the moons never got easier, but I was hoping you were just trying to elicit a pity-shag from me. I hate that I was so wrong. I was fairly adept at Potions in school. I'd be happy to give Wolfsbane a try, if you're willing to risk it.
Tell Mrs. Thisby the garden looks lively.
Ever Yours,
Lynn
PS What does the "J." stand for?
Dear Lynn,
It stands for Janus. After my father's uncle, I believe. Or was it a second cousin? Believe it or not, I've never had the patience to look into my family history, but I could listen to Professor Binns rattle on about complete strangers for hours. The name is appropriate, don't you think? Two-faced. I apologize if I'm not my charming self in this letter. I've taken a job at a Muggle bookstore to make ends meet and it's truly frustrating. Not the job, since you know what I'm like with books, but the fact that I could be doing so much more with my life. But then that thought leads to anger at Severus for broadcasting my "secret" to the wide world. And that leads to anger at myself for reasons to numerable to list here. But what does that matter? I doubt I'll be missed much in the magic world, and at least here I get half off every book in the store.
You'll be glad to hear that I've gained a good four pounds since that picture, now that I can afford some decent meals. I'll have to cook some hens in honor of you.
Seriously though, how are you? Still smell the same from what I got off your envelope, but have you changed at all? Who are you crusading against this week? What color robes are you wearing? What's underneath them? It doesn't matter if you blush at that, I'm doing enough for both of us.
Yours,
Remus
Dear Remus,
Again, you skirt around the issue, but I'll tell you about my day before I start yelling at you to do the same. I'm surviving. Crusading on a new topic like you guessed but I'd rather not get into the details until I've done some more research. I need to have all of my arguments in order before debating the issue with you. Especially with you, actually, since you're the only one who can still be analytical once I turn on the charm. Other than spending countless hours in the library, I've been thinking of you. I know they say you can never turn back time, but when you think about it, you can. Remus, it was only one night. We were best friends for two months first. Can't we have that again? I don't even know if the change in our relationship was the reason you left, I'm only guessing. But I promise I won't make you blush anymore. Won't bring up any of the details. I might think of them from time to time, minute to minute, but I'd even give that up if you'd just come back and be my friend.
Now enough about me. In the past 2 letters, you talk of reasons. Why you left. Why you're angry. Please, tell me. This silence between us is killing me. All of those words, wasted. We're saying nothing, and you know it. The thing that I love about you is how unguarded you become, just for me. Has it changed so much that we can't get past hello? How are you? What are you wearing? Oh dear, I said, "love", didn't I? Maybe that'll give you something to write about.
Yours,
Lynn
Dear Lynn,
I'll begin with reasons. I'd rather be telling you this face to face, but I've no time to take the train down and because of one childhood mistake I will never be able to apparate. I left because I wanted to avoid pain. That may sound cowardly to you, but it is the truth and you deserve no less. Maybe you'd tell me that being a werewolf is fine, acceptable. Wolfsbane will keep me tame, maybe even a cage like my parents owned will do. We could make it work. But you've no idea what you'd be missing. A healthy social life. A good job. A real family. Humans and werewolves don't mix. That is what the majority of this world believes and that is what counts. I'm already shunned. It would pain me even more to see the same happen to you and Stewart, and Lynn, I don't want any more pain. I dream of a family the same as the next man, but I could never be a husband or a father. The risk…even now I hate myself for all the things I could have done to harm you.
As for my anger, that is just as hard to explain. All I can say is that the world sees my kind as violence incarnate, wild and untamed to the heart. So I've lived my life, solely it sometimes seems, to counter that perception. To be in control, in reason, in calm. I've tried to eliminate hate, rage, anger, bloodlust, even lust, from my life, if only to prove to myself that, no matter what I do one night a month, I still have control of my mind and my heart. It's an illusion, I know. But it's one I need.
I know it was only one night. One night that will live forever in some part of my mind. And I'd like nothing more than to crawl under your skin and never see the damned moonlight again, just you and I forever. And I'd like nothing more than to be your best friend. But I can't come back. I'm tired and cold and hungry and I feel like I need you just to breathe, but I can't come back. Lynn, please do not love me. If not for all of the reasons that I and countless others would give you, then don't love me for the fact that there is nothing in me for you. There is nothing left at all.
Yours,
Remus
Dear Remus,
How could you write that? How could you even think that? The things I can see in you, in your eyes, your writing, your words, your every movement…I cannot escape them. When David died, I thought I'd never fall in love again. That I could not fall in love again, because no one could compare to him. But Remus, nothing compares to you. I may hate myself for admitting that, because I loved David with all that I had. But I love you with all that I am. Can you understand the difference? And that asking me to deny it would cause me more pain than anything a werewolf could do to me?
I'm not asking you to be a husband, Remus. We'd need more than one night together to take that step. And Stewart already has a father. Cancer may have taken him out of sight, but David will always be there for Stew and I wouldn't ask you to take his place. I wouldn't even let you try. As for the rest, excuse me, but you're being idiotic. Do you think it was a day at the park when I announced I was marrying a Muggle? You know perfectly well what kind of prejudice that word brings, but I didn't let that keep me from following my heart. I know that our situation is not the same as that situation, but do you honestly think that I give a damn? You'd never hurt me. I wouldn't let you. And I'd never hurt you. I wouldn't let myself. Listen to me. I'm a Ravenclaw, logical and all of that rubbish. Now you be a Gryffindor and get your brave arse back in London.
Love,
Lynn
PS My latest crusade will be chronicled in this Sunday's Prophet. I know that'll get your attention.
Dear Lynn,
Well, you've got my attention. Have you gone completely and utterly mad? They'll never accept the proposal. Werewolves are not humans and they…we will never be treated as anything other than what we are. Beasts. At least one night a month, and that night alone merits the restrictions you carelessly want revoked. Apparation. Posts in the Ministry. The right to sole custody of children should spouse die? Why can't you see the harm in that? Even if we could all afford Wolfsbane (which we can't, by the way), it's not as if we become cuddly pups. We are still wolves. We could still hurt. Kill.
Please don't pursue this fight. It won't make you any friends and you can't change anything.
Yours,
Remus
PS I am eternally grateful to you for trying, you know. It's more than anyone has ever done for me, apart from Albus Dumbledore. As to the rest of your last letter, I'll respond when I'm not so awestruck by the thought of you. And not so proud that I've had such a dramatic effect on you after so short a time. Why don't you tell me I was awful in bed before I get too high an opinion of myself?
Dear Remus,
I couldn't lie to you like that. And you're welcome. And completely wrong, I might add. What do you have against werewolves apparating?
Love,
Lynn
Dear Lynn,
Thank you, again. And I'm completely right, by the way. Some points against all werewolves being allowed to apparate:
- Not all werewolves are even wizards/witches. A language problem a decent Ravenclaw should have caught.
- The new tracking program in Britain has cut down bites and fatalities by 78%. Increased mobility would undo all of that progress.
Yours,
Remus
Dear Remus,
What's wrong with Ministry positions then?
Love,
Lynn
Dear Lynn,
Who'd want to be subjected to having Fudge for a boss, anyway? Seriously though, dark creatures are more prone to fall in line with dark wizards. Some would do anything for a cure, or even a false promise or hope of one. They'd even sell their souls to Voldemort. I could trust myself to stay loyal to the right side, but I've met others whom I could not say the same of.
Yours,
Remus
Dear Remus,
You're prejudiced against werewolves!
Love,
Lynn
Dear Lynn,
That is absurd. Prejudice is just ignorance with a fancy name and connotations of hate. We both know that I have no patience for either of those things. Can I ask you something? How many werewolves have you actually met? I'm betting that I'm the only one, at least that you know of. Well, I've met dozens. And in the light of day, they are no different from any other person. Same spectrum of intelligence, or morality. But some don't regret the violence they seek under the moon. Some don't even fear it. Those, I would not trust. And others, they fear it more than anything. Those, I could never trust. Because self-preservation is the most fundamental driving force in an individual's life, unless you're lucky enough to have someone that means more to you than life itself. Ask yourself, what would you have done, given, spent, to have found a cure that would have saved David's life? How many of your principles would have folded in order to keep him here with you? I know who you are and what you would not have done, but this temptation is the same thing a werewolf would be faced with should Voldemort return. And he will return. It's only a matter of time, but he'll find a way. Good people have forgotten themselves and flocked to him for strength, power, friendship. Werewolves are a desperate lot to begin with. Would you really want someone with nothing to lose in a position of power?
Love,
Remus
Dear Remus,
I got you to sign with love! Victory is mine, huzzah for Ravenclaws everywhere! Of course, I think you've won the argument, but who cares with a farewell like that? Now kindly return your attention to a certain letter that you put on hold. What of it?
Love,
Lynn
Dear Lynn,
I've given Mrs. Thisby notice. I've given my boss notice. Hopefully, we'll be together within hours. Until then, know that I do love you, that I have loved you since we met, that I will most likely love you forever. And that you should get accustomed to losing arguments if you really want me to stay in London.
Love,
Remus