Ch. 14: Of Freedom and Finality
No. God no. Please. Please.
This wasn't happening. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. Not after everything. The world couldn't be that cruel.
But Remus knew that was a lie.
The world had always been cruel to him.
He had been a fool to think that could ever change. To think that it ever would.
It was happening.
He'd always known it would – know he was too poor a liar, known they were too smart not to notice, known it was only a matter of time.
But Merlin, he'd been a fool not to realize just how much it would destroy him.
To see Sirius, looking at him with such rage – like he was worse than Snape – to realize that he hated him now; hated him enough to want to make him say the words – Remus wanted to laugh and he wanted to cry and he wanted to run and he wanted to scream.
And it wasn't fair, because Remus wasn't evil, and he didn't choose this.
But apparently, they didn't care – apparently all James' talk of equal rights and all Sirius' declarations that he was nothing like his family were just empty words.
And that wasn't okay.
He chuckled, and it was bitter and pathetic and spiteful and raw.
"How did you figure it out?"
Sirius laughed too, and it made Remus flinch.
"Maybe we're just not blind, Lupin."
He nodded, just a bit.
"Fair enough," he muttered, and he couldn't look at Sirius anymore, so he turned to James.
But James was glaring at the floor and wouldn't meet his eyes, and Peter just looked terrified, and honestly, it was ridiculous, and maybe it was because if the potions lowering his defenses, or maybe it was the aftermath of the change, or maybe it was just Remus, but he was angry.
And why shouldn't he be.
"If I wanted to eat you, I'd have done it ages ago," he snarled, staring straight at Peter, whose eyes went wide as he squeaked.
"N-no–" the smaller boy began, but Remus wasn't listening.
"So what now," he bit out, forcing himself to look back at Sirius, who was still glaring (and maybe he was choosing anger because the alternative was frightened, shattered tears, but who could blame him for that).
The question was, of course, extraneous.
He knew what came next.
Sirius would yell, and James would keep avoiding his eyes, and Peter would continue to cower as Sirius screamed some more – and then, when they got sick of that, they'd run to a teacher, or to Dumbledore, or to the other students, and they'd condemn what he was for all the world to hear.
And that would be the end.
Students would write parents, and parents would write the Ministry, and Dumbledore wouldn't be able to vouch for him anymore.
And he'd leave.
Go home – though how could he even pretend that his home had ever been anything but the three boys before him.
They were his home, and his home hated him now, so he'd go back to a poor mimicry, made of alcohol and tears, and he'd exist until the next full moon – at which time, he really would just… cease.
Far from Madam Pomfrey, and her potions, and from anyone who'd care to keep him breathing, it would finally be over.
For some reason, though he had been resigned to this mere minutes ago, it was now unbearable.
It was one thing to die and be mourned – it was entirely another to have your end be celebrated by the only things you'd ever really learned to love.
The thought of it all stoked the flame into an inferno, and when Sirius' scowl twisted and curled into a sneer, and he opened his mouth to attack, Remus decided he didn't much feel like hearing what he had to say.
So he spoke first.
"Oh shut it." And this seemed to take all three of them aback, for Sirius' eyes widened and his sneer fell away to surprise, and James' eyes snapped up from the ground to stare at Remus, and Peter curled into himself even more than he already had, and they all quavered in the face of Remus' fury.
"Remus –" James was personifying caution, and he was looking at Remus like he was a wild animal to be treated with caution, and Remus was seething."
"What? Are you going to tell me I'm a monster? Tell me you hate me? That I shouldn't be here? Well save it."
Sirius' shock was giving way to anger once again, and beneath the seas of rage Remus' heart was breaking.
"Are you mental? We –"
"Mental!? Oh I'm not the mad one here, Black." Sirius flinched at the name, and Remus knew it was a low blow, but the wisps of guilt just made him more enraged, because he why should he owe them anything. "Merlin, you really are just like your family, you know that? You act so superior, because you're in Gryffindor, and you're above their prejudice, but how are you better?!" He was almost sure he was crying now, and Sirius seemed hurt beneath his hate and why did he have to lose them. "Because we were friends, Black. And you can deny it all you want now, but we were, even if we haven't been lately, and it's not my fault. And you can't see that, so you're just like them."
A breath.
And then Sirius had had enough.
"How dare you."
His voice was low, and his eyes were glinting like daggers, and it was his turn to speak now and nothing Remus could do would stop him but hearing this from Sirius was going to devastate him, so he'd delay it as best he could.
"I DIDN'T GET A SAY!" And his voice broke like a child's, and he broke too. "Please." The word slipped out against his will and made him flinch. But it was out there now, and he had abandoned pride long ago, and he would do anything to prevent this. Prevent hearing Sirius tell him what he was.
"Please. I didn't want…" He was pathetic and he was a mess, and it wouldn't do any good.
Nothing would do any good.
"Please."
He couldn't look at them; his eyes were fixed firmly on the ground as he braced himself against the coming torment, so he sensed more than saw the moment Sirius snapped.
"You utter prat."
Sirius' voice was scathing.
And then –
"The Hell do you take us for! – And what do you mean we were friends?! Why wouldn't we still be?!"
The shock of it was enough to make Remus look at Sirius again.
And the boy was still fuming, and still glaring, and still angry, but this didn't make sense…
"…Because I'm a werewolf? Which is why you're angry?"
The words were hesitant, and confused, and apparently not what he should have said, because Sirius' eyes flashed and Remus the explosion came in a rush.
"THAT'S NOT WHY I'M MAD, YOU ABSOLUTE PRICK! I DON'T GIVE A DAMN IF YOURE A WEREWOLF; NONE OF US DO!"
The words were incomprehensible.
Remus' eyes darted to glance at James, whose face was set and determined, and then Peter, who was nodding frantically despite his clear anxiety, and then he looked at Sirius again, who was still glaring, and his words weren't making sense but James and Peter were acting like they did and Remus didn't understand and he was still dazed from the potions and nothing was making sense and hope was swelling in his chest and it was dangerous,because it was impossible, but if it wasn't…
If…
"But… but you're mad. At me. Why…? What…?"
"BECAUSE YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO DIE, AND YOU JUST LEFT!"
And… what?
It was true, yes, but… that was why Sirius was yelling?
Except he wasn't yelling anymore.
"You thought you were going to die." And now he just sounded… tired. And very, very sad.
"Didn't you? Can you honestly tell me you planned to come back?"
He was pleading, Remus understood. For some reason he didn't know, Sirius wanted Remus to tell him he was wrong – wanted him to say he'd had every intention of returning.
But they knew the secret now, and Remus didn't have it in him to lie anymore.
"I thought – Madam Pomfrey seemed to think I might."
It was like he'd slapped Sirius in the face." The boy flinched, and stumbled to sit down in a nearby chair. And Sirius wasn't the only one affected – Peter turned white and James looked hurt, and this wasn't going like Remus had thought at all and he was trapped between fear and frustration and terrible, wondrous hope.
"You didn't tell us." He couldn't help but wonder why Sirius was sounding like the broken one. "You barely even said goodbye. Do we honestly not warrant more than that? You thought you were going to die, and – and you just left, Remus. You just left."
And how was he supposed to respond to that? How could he explain, when his mind was reeling and the world was frozen and spinning at once? But he had to say something.
"I didn't think you'd –"
"You didn't think we'd what? Care? So you thought we'd be glad if you died? Jesus, Remus. If you think we're such bastards, why did you even hang out with us." Sirius laughed, a bit. Except the sound was bitter, and hollow, and fell oceans short of humorous.
And Remus may not have understood a thing right then, but he understood that no matter what happened, it would always break his heart to hear Sirius sound so… destroyed.
"No – I – I didn't; I don't, I just. I didn't know how to say goodbye without telling you where I was going, and I didn't want you to – to hate me." As they were supposed to. But apparently they might not? Merlin what was happening right now. "And I thought – you've already been avoiding me. For weeks. I thought you didn't want me around." The words were hurried and his breaths were rushed, and Sirius' face was crumpling into unmistakable guilt.
The three of them traded torn glances, and Remus was still standing apart from them, at the foot of the stairs, and the distance between them felt vast but so close to being bridged.
And all the while there was that hope in him, and it was clouding his vision as well as his mind.
Please.
"We were trying to – find out your secret." It was James who spoke. He seemed to have had his fill of allowing Sirius to steer the conversation off several cliffs, and he was apologetically unapologetic.
"For a little over a month." Peter was trembling and pale, but he was looking Remus straight in the eyes.
"Since that time I asked you what was going on and you ran off."
"We couldn't do that around you, so…"
"We didn't want to avoid you, but –"
All three looked guilty.
But Sirius drew himself up and took a breath, and his words were the culmination of seconds and days and months and years.
"We knew that you were hiding something. And we knew that – whatever it was – it didn't matter."
He was looking at Remus very gravely. He was pleading with him, almost.
It doesn't matter, was the promise that seemed engraved in every line of his face.
"So we had to find out what it was, so you wouldn't be alone again."
He was begging Remus to understand.
And, finally, Remus did.
There was a lump in his throat and his head felt light and part of him still wouldn't believe it, but he understood.
"You really – you really don't care."
He was breathless and every nerve was on edge.
"No."
The word was a release.
It was freedom, and promise, and so final that even Remus, who'd learned to question everything, was struggling to refute it.
"Not at all, Remus."
James was offering a tentative smile, and no one was protesting, and his heart was swelling and this couldn't be real, and maybe he was dead, and maybe it was a hallucination brought on by the potions – except Remus would never have been able to imagine the look on Sirius' face – one of guilt, and apology, and remorse, but also of defiance, and acceptance, and truth."
"But – but I'm a werewolf," Remus couldn't help but repeat, as though they'd misunderstood.
"I'm a monster."
And Sirius looked at him and said, "You're Remus. You're our friend," as if that was the only thing in the world that mattered.
In the end, what else did?
He might have been falling or he might have been floating, but Remus felt free.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he said, still half-in denial but unable to help his hesitant smile, which Sirius returned.
"I'm sorry I was a such prick about it." The guilt was still there, but they looked at each other and knew all was forgiven.
"Yes, yes, you're both prats, shall we move on now?" James was grinning as he said it, and suddenly Remus was too, and then they all were, and one of them started laughing and then none of them could stop.
And Remus did cry then, just a bit.
But it was alright, because the rest of them did as well.
The four of them skipped dinner, and Remus sent Madam Pomfrey a note saying he felt fine, and just wanted to get some sleep, and didn't go to her for his check-in, either.
Instead, they spent that Friday evening, and the rest of the weekend, lazing about and ignoring the rest of the world.
His friends – and Remus had to pause every so often to marvel in that fact – that they were still his best friends –asked questions Remus finally wasn't scared to answer.
Some were easy ("So - you can't actually eat us... right?"), and some were harder ("So your scars..."), and some were impossible ("How'd it happen?").
He told them most things – not all (not yet) – but not a single lie crossed his lips.
They were together for every moment for those two-and-a-half days – except for a few hours, in the dead of Friday night, when Sirius disappeared without a word. Remus noticed, and spent those hours terrified he had been wrong, that it had all been an act – until Sirius returned with arms chock-full of bottled Butterbeer and Every Flavour Beans and mounds of chocolate. He'd thrown some of the sweets at James and Peters' heads, to wake them up, and there had been exclamations of irritation that were overcome by shock and awe.
"Where did you get all this?!"
"Found a secret passageway that leads to Honeydukes, down in the village," he had said, smugly nonchalant – which had prompted exasperation and incredulity from James.
"AND YOU DIDN'T TELL US?"
"Was waiting for a special occasion." (He may or may not have looked at Remus, then.) (They both may or may not have blushed.) (And as James yelled at Sirius and made him say how he'd done it, and as they wondered if there could be any more secret passages and gorged on magical sweets, Remus nibbled on chocolate bars and felt relief and shame and trust wash over him.)
(He didn't doubt them again, after that.)
And so it was blissful surprise to find that, when they told him, again and again, that they didn't care, he believed them.
He really did.
He smiled more that weekend than he thought he had in years, and all four of them laughed.
("I would like to know, though," Remus said during one of the lulls in the conversation.
They were sitting on the banks of the Black Lake, and all the world seemed at peace.
"What's that?" asked a distracted James, who was writing Lily another ill-advised love letter.
"How did you figure it out?"
"You mean how did we learn about your furry little problem?" Sirius tried out the code name with a grin, and Remus responded with a roll of his eyes and a grin of his own.
"I mean, I always kind of thought you might. But what exactly tipped you off?"
James furrowed his brow, and pushed his glasses back as he looked up from the card.
"I don't actually know," he mused, and looked to Peter for confirmation. "Sirius figured it out; he went out in the middle of the night – nicked my bloody cloak, too," he added on with a glare that made Sirius laugh. James flicked him with a pebble before continuing. "Anyway, he didn't come back until the morning – looking a complete mess, half-covered in the cloak and looking like he'd seen – well, seen a werewolf." The last part was said with a cheeky smirk and Remus' grin only grew. "So Pete and I are asking him dozens of questions, and he isn't even looking at us, and then he shoves this list we made – one where we'd written out the dates of all your disappearances – and the phases of the moon chart we did for Astronomy at me. Didn't take very long to see which dates overlapped. But I don't actually know how Sirius figured it out."
They all looked at him with curious eyes, and Sirius just grinned and said, "Simple, Moony dear –" and he found he quite liked how that nickname sounded, too – "I'm far smarter than the rest of this lot," which provoked rather a lot of good-natured outrage on James' part, and an amused smile on Remus'.)
(It wasn't for many years – not until the rest of them had nicknames to match, and Sirius and Remus were lying together in a bed they shared, with lips still raw from kissing and fingers tangled in each other's hair – that Sirius told Remus how he'd known.)
("I couldn't picture you in the moonlight.")
(And Remus would smile, and he would understand, and he would respond with a kiss that drove thoughts of the moon quite far from both their minds.)
(But on that day, by the Black Lake, it was enough for them to laugh, and smile, and abandon fear.)
And, while it took a while, and not everything was perfect at first, Remus was more happy, and more free, than he'd ever been before.
God, I'm lucky.
And really, they all were.
OH MY GOSH IT'S OVER.
WHAT.
I ACTUALLY FINISHED THIS.
Well, there is still the epilogue (which will be up very soon, I promise), and I'm not ruling out the possibility of adding on a few one-shots in the future... but the main story is over!
This is really strange for me, as I'm normally utterly terrible at finishing things, but all the encouragement and support I received from everyone who read (but especially those who left reviews), kept me determined to finish.
So thank you so, so much to all of you. I will treasure your lovely comments forever.
Also, to those of you who have joined me along the way, thanks for sticking with this. I know I put Remus and you all through some pretty harsh times, and I hope the fluff in this chapter (and in the upcoming epilogue) makes up for it.
And I KNOW I said this was only going to kind of hint at wolfstar, but I apparently have zero restraint and couldn't resist jamming some in there. Oh WELL!
I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that I did your expectations and these characters justice.
And please, let me know your thoughts!