One thing Remus Lupin never told his wife.
If there was one thing that tormented Remus more than his monthly changes, it was this: he missed his friends. The only people who ever made him feel normal were Lily and James. He had never doubted that Lily – compassionate, good Lily – had loved him and held him as a dear friend. And it was hard to feel like a monster when James, in all seriousness, referred to his lycanthropy as his 'furry little problem'. Even after Hogwarts they visited him every morning after a full moon, ready with a fortifying breakfast and a bottle of salve to soothe the wounds he had inflicted on himself the night before.
But it wasn't just Lily and James. Remus missed his living friends too. He didn't recognise the man who wore the mockery of Sirius's once handsome face. The Sirius in his memory was an arrogant young man, full of confidence and laughter. Remus had always envied him for seeming so sure of the world and his place in it. The Sirius that emerged from Azkaban always had a bitter edge to his laughter. He drank too much and never seemed able to add any weight to his almost painfully thin frame. Sometimes, when Remus spent the night at Grimmauld Place, he heard Sirius screaming in his sleep several rooms away, pleading with invisible tormentors not to shut him away again.
And Peter. It still seemed impossible to Remus that he could despise so completely someone he had once loved. He had been a cheerful, well meaning boy once. Although he had worshipped James and Sirius, he had shared a closer friendship with Remus. They were, after all, the outsiders, the misfits who couldn't quite believe that they had been taken up by two of the most popular, charismatic people in the school. Yet now Remus would gladly kill him, and he knew that Peter would murder him without a second thought.
After Sirius's murder, after Voldemort's second rise to power, Remus went into hiding with his wife. There were long periods when he had only his own thoughts for company, and during these melancholy times the urge to see his old friends became almost unbearable. He wanted to do what he had been denied the opportunity to do years ago: embrace them as his brothers and sister and say goodbye.
One rainy afternoon he climbed to the attic and dug out a photo album. There he found a picture of them all from their seventh year. Lily was being swept up into a bear hug by James while Sirius and Peter, both grinning widely, shot ever more inventive curses at each other. Remus sat beneath the shady branches of a tree, apart but included, and laughed, his open book ignored on his lap.
Remus folded the picture carefully and slid it into his pocket. Later, sitting at the table with Tonks, he wondered how he could put his request to his wife. I want you to look like my friends. Please, just for a moment, just so I can say goodbye. I need this. He opened his mouth and she looked up at him, smiling expectantly. In that moment he knew that Tonks, young and whole, wouldn't understand. He shut his mouth tightly on the plea that threatened to erupt and forced himself to smile back.