Author's Note: I apologize for this chapter being brief. The next one is most likely going to be like this as well. I decided to split the original 3rd chapter up into 2 parts so that I could hopefully update sooner rather than later. Also, it may help to mention, in this slight AU I imagine 16 to be legal wizard drinking age and Hogwarts as a whole to be a lot less strict with 7th years, perhaps with a curfew of midnight or 2:00 in the morning on Hogsmeade outings.

Endless thanks to everyone reading. As always, reviews are welcome. I hope you enjoy.

-TTA


Pretense

Chapter 3 | Longing

After an uneasy doze, Remus awoke before Sirius and anyone else in the dorm. He realized he was in fact not in his own bed and inwardly cringed. He grabbed his wand and snuck back to his proper place silently. It was too early for breakfast, and not feeling the least bit refreshed, Lupin laid down to rest his eyes.

He was torn precisely down the middle between making himself forget how it felt to wake up beside Sirius and carefully crystalizing the memory in his mind forever. Already a dichotomous soul thanks to his lycanthropy, Remus wondered grimly how many more times his mind could be divided before he finally fell apart.

Briefly, he felt a bit used by Black. He remembered how he had tried to get out of the bed, but was told to lay down. He had been half asleep and vulnerable when Sirius kissed him, having smoked marijuana for the first time, and so naturally having no tolerance.

He tried to make himself angry at the pureblood, but failed spectacularly in the face of the facts: that he had been, at his core, still in his right mind the previous night, that he had wanted to kiss Sirius, and perhaps most importantly, the fact that if he would've resisted his friend would have certainly backed off immediately, probably feeling mortified.

Lupin worked to isolate the memory of their night together in his mind where it would be safe from over-analyzation and the questions and regret that would accompany such dissection. He surprised himself by being reasonably successful in his efforts.

So, the recollection sat nestled in the back of his consciousness looking, in his mind's eye, very much like the charmed golden orb that had alighted the most wondrous part of the experience.

Sirius didn't say anything the next day, or week, or month about what happened on their first day back at school. Remus was mostly glad for this, but also a bit disappointed. It was as if it never happened. Lupin decided that the brunette simply didn't remember, and he partly wished he could say the same for himself.

If he had been consciously trying to get closer to Black, he would have called this latest development a one step forward, two steps back situation, because Sirius was treating Remus the same way he'd always been treated, which was all well and good, but after their summer correspondence the emotional distance was more noticeable.

It was disappointing and a bit confusing, but Remus was determined as ever not to rock the boat or arouse suspicion. So, the lycanthrope mirrored Sirius' behavior and pretended everything was normal.

He comforted himself with the knowledge of Black's unflinching friendship and distracted himself with an almost unnatural (even for him) focus on his studies. A few months went by in this manner, with no one the wiser of Remus' inner turmoil.


But, as the Hogsmeade weekend for early December approached, Moony's mental resolve was greatly compromised.

For the past couple years, the holiday season had been a bit melancholy for him, as he secretly wished to be finding the perfect gift for a special someone. As silly as it was, he also wished someone was thinking of him in a way beyond friendship or family care.

He longed for the days when he could look upon the various cuddling couples shopping or dining and feel neutral towards them instead of jealous. It was definitely easier to notice loneliness in sunless seasons.

This being the last December at Hogwarts added to the gloomy aura surrounding the young werewolf. He couldn't seem to banish a large ticking clock from his mind counting down the days left in the school year in glaring neon letters.

The final straw had been when Sirius announced he'd be spending the treasured outing with the latest of his romantic pursuits, Philip Rosenguard, the star Chaser of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.

So, while he was originally going to stay at school to avoid the intrusive cheer sure to depress him further. Remus made the executive decision that he was going to go out and spend time with James and Peter.

This decision came about after much more deliberation and fretting than an average teenager would usually have to put up with. And as usual, Lupin could blame mother moon for this.

He had a series of rules he had developed over time, both for his own protection and the protection of others. One of which was to abstain from becoming intoxicated too close to the full moon. Lowered inhibitions and heightened confidence simply did not bode well for a person with a wolf lurking just beneath the surface.

The closest to the moon he'd let himself get drunk had been 6 days before, thankfully to no ill effect. He knew it was risky, with the full being 4 days out, but he reasoned he was much less likely to act out if Sirius was out of the picture.

This logic, however, didn't stop him from feeling nervous as he got ready to leave. As a small comfort to himself, he chose to wear his favorite oversized, sage-green jumper.


A little-known side-effect of the accelerated metabolism of lycanthropes is that they can handle their alcohol much better than a normal person.

I really should write a book. Lupin thought to himself as he stood at the bar of Lay Grindylow waiting for his next beer-and-shot combo. He imagined the following text in a proper, scholarly font:

'I have personally conducted extensive research on the matter of werewolves' tank-like tolerance for intoxication. While the late nights and early mornings were exhausting, I believe they have been made worthwhile thanks to the precise data gathered.

For example, I have discovered that if a lycanthrope imbibes one straight alcohol shot in addition to each beer enjoyed by himself and his companions, the resulting levels of inebriation are relatively well balanced.'

Remus smiled as he wiped the alcohol from his mouth with his sleeve before taking his beer back to the booth where James and Peter were seated. He embraced the warmth spreading from his gut to his chest and arms, mind blissfully distracted from the dark-haired specter that haunted it with his sharp grey eyes and easy laughter.

Lupin knew from experience that it was impossible to banish Sirius from his mind completely, but thankfully the alcohol helped him detach from the situation and observe it from a less painful distance.

However, this was the Endlessly Complicated and Mildly Torturous Life of Remus John Lupin™, so the very moment he thought he might go a whole evening without dwelling on Black, the man himself walked into the bar, smooth as silk.