Punch
Five years. He had managed for five years for no one to figure it out. No one, except his friends, and if he had told them from the beginning, they would have understood. At least, he thought they would.
They certainly understood now. They alone completely understood what it meant that he not only could transform into an uncontrollable beast, but that he could do so and still have friends who would look him in the eye every day knowing this. It was to them, as James put it, merely a furry little problem. He smiled wryly. Well, it was no longer little. It was much bigger now.
Severus Snape knew now. He would never have figured it out. Of that, Remus was sure. Utterly positive. He might have suspected, tried, but he never would have found out. The mystery would have remained evasive. He would have remained forever frustrated by the knowledge that Remus, once a month, accompanied Madam Pomfrey out of the castle.
Not anymore. Because Sirius had let slip where he went, and Snape had seen—actually seen—him.
He didn't know if the hollow in his stomach came from fear of Snape's knowledge, or rage that Sirius had…well, betrayed seemed too strong a word.
"Remus," whispered Peter, "Remus, are you awake?"
"I'm not in the mood to study, Peter," groaned Remus, pulling his blanket over his head. Peter seemed to have decided that he was going to do better on his N.E.W.T.s than he did on his O.W.L.s, and was hell bent on studying, though their first term was hardly started. While the desire was admirable, Remus often found himself wishing that he weren't the only person in Gryffindor who was willing to study with Peter. Doing so sapped away whatever free time he had.
He wished he were asleep. He hadn't been sleeping well since it happened. Even though Dumbledore had sworn Snape to secrecy, he still felt uneasy about the whole arrangement. And, on top of his nerves, he had nightmares of Snape telling the whole school, and him having to leave before he even had a chance to explain himself.
"Neither am I, so that works out well, doesn't it," said Peter dryly.
"Then what do you want." He wished he didn't sound so snappish there.
"I dunno, you've just been out of it lately. I wanted to know if something was the matter."
"I'm fine. Utterly fine. I just haven't been sleeping well is all."
"You are not utterly fine if you haven't been sleeping well, Remus "I fall asleep the second my eyes shut" Lupin. Why don't you just say it?"
"Say what?"
"I don't know. You have to tell me."
How he would love to say it, if he knew what it was. He glanced at Peter, and sighed.
"I don't know. It's a lot of things, I suppose. Prefect stuff, N.E.W.T.s—"
"They're not for months!" moaned Peter, as though he were not the one studying at least three times a week already. Remus overrode him.
"and the whole thing with…" He let the sentence hang. He didn't want to put words to it.
"With what?" Peter asked.
"Snape and Sirius," Remus said through gritted teeth.
"We seem to have found the problem."
Remus glanced at Peter, then nodded slowly. Peter wasn't slow. He knew where the points of pressure were when he saw them.
"Spit it out," urged Peter.
Peter's words seemed to hang in the air, nagging at Remus—who was ordinarily very good at shrugging things off. (He had to be, with his friends.) But this time, it was enough.
"It wasn't his bloody secret. It was mine. Who did he think he was, telling Snape to do that? I don't care how much he hates Snape. He goes on and on about how we are the best friends in the world, and then he goes and—I don't want to say betrayed,because it certainly isn't that - but no other word comes to mind, Peter. No other word. He did what he didn't have the right to do. I don't care if he's apologized, I wouldn't care if he had apologized a million times. He shouldn't have done that."
A weight somewhere, somehow, lifted.
Peter nodded.
"You know what I think?" said Peter, smiling slightly.
"What?" said Remus, hoping this would lighten his mood. Somehow, whenever Peter tried to be helpful, whenever he suggested something, it was amusing (not always in the nicest of ways).
"I think Sirius Black needs a hit upside the head."
"There's a thought that's going to fester," muttered Remus. He turned away from Peter and tried to fall asleep.
Peter climbed over to his own bed, and began preparing for sleep as well.
Yes, Peter was right. Sirius did need a smack upside the head. And not any old smack, not some friendly, light-hearted tap, but something that would hurt, something that would bruise, something that would knock his brains back into place. He wondered briefly if someone had a sledgehammer that he could borrow. Then he thought that that idea was ridiculous. He was a wizard. He could conjure a sledgehammer.
He got up, climbed out of his bed (or his den, as James called it). He wanted to wash his face. To clear his head. To brush his teeth. To do something that would get his mind off of Sirius Bloody Black.
It didn't help that as he stood at the sink in the bathroom that was connected to their dormitory, he heard the door bang open. James and Sirius were back from pranking (pranking Snape, probably).
"You should have been there, Moony," said Sirius, leaning against the bathroom door, talking to Remus' back. "His eyes got almost as big as dinner plates before he" Remus turned around "even had half a brain to" Remus looked Sirius in the eye "use to think of drawing his wand—" Remus punched. He punched very hard. He actually thought he hurt his own fist a little. But he didn't care.
He felt so much better.
He didn't give a damn over Sirius' "What the hell, mate?" and James' "That was out of order!"
He felt so much better.
He climbed into bed and drew the curtains around him.
Sirius ripped them back open. "What the hell was that for?" he demanded furiously.
"Well," said Remus mildly. He was even beginning to feel quite amused, gleeful even. He could see the humor in the situation. Sirius Black just got socked by his werewolf sidekick. "You see, I was quite bloody pissed at you. And it was the only way that I could think of getting over it without seeming like a girl (because you would have made fun of me). Don't you dare look at me like that, like I did something wrong, because if you were in my shoes, you would have done much worse. You would have, I don't know, levitated me by the ankles or something, humiliated me publicly, but that isn't my style. I'd much rather just hit you and get over it, if you don't mind."
"I don't follow—"
"That was for your telling Snape."
"But I apologized for that a hundred times, and you accepted each time."
"I lied. But I'm not angry any more. If that bruises, go see Madame Pomfrey in the morning and tell her you tripped over my trunk or something."
"You're a right git, you know that?" snapped Sirius.
"You got what you deserved. Do you know what could have happened?"
"We've had this conversation before."
"I know. But it doesn't seem to have sunk in, because if it had, you definitely wouldn't be calling me a git for punching you. You would thank me for being so lenient."
Sirius rolled his eyes and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.
Remus looked at James. James shrugged, as if to say I am not getting involved with this. But I'm with you.
Remus looked at Peter.
Peter grinned at him. He grinned back.