Saturday, November 7th, 1976 11:00 A.M
Peter feels and thinks just as substantially as his three friends. He feels disconcerted when James and Sirius fight like cellmates, punching each other in the nose and chin before resolving the matter a couple minutes later. He gets very annoyed when Sirius rambles on and on about what a "no-good cunt" his mother is. He feels sad when the house elves make porridge for breakfast because he does hate porridge something fierce. These are thoughts any normal boy would have regarding friends and breakfast.
What surprises him is that, as far as Remus John Lupin is concerned, caring simply ceases to exist. He feels nothing for his third friend. He does not think of him, talk to him, or worry himself with Lupin unless James or Sirius insist on it. Now is one of those times, and Peter feels angry that his biscuits should be ignored solely in defense of Moony. What a load of shit.
He has spent entire weeks thinking about nothing but his feelings toward Lupin. The thoughts sometimes consume him so completely that he grumbles the wrong answer in Charms and is forced to do extra homework, which Lupin gallantly helps him complete.
He wants to understand most of all. He wants to know why he is never concerned when Lupin has had a difficulty with the full moon. He knows that, of all his friends, Lupin should be the one that he goes to for comfort. They are in the same boat. They both worship Messrs. Padfoot and Prongs, they are both second best to the people they love the most.
Then, as if the proverbial light bulb has just flickered on in his head after a long period of dormancy, he gets it. He does care. He cares so much that he sees spots-blue spots outlined in red, angry, fiery spots that contend with his vision. He cares about Lupin, all right. He hates Lupin. He hates Lupin because James now fights for his honor. He hates Lupin because Sirius sleeps in Lupin's bed on nights after the changes. He hates Lupin because Lupin gives expert belly-rubs that Sirius doesn't shut up about or because Lupin does all of James' homework in exchange for perfect attendance on James' part.
No, he hates Lupin because he cannot be Lupin. Neither of them could be James or Sirius. That is impossible. You are born and raised without inhibitions; you cannot train yourself to have them. You cannot train yourself to be talented, charismatic, or beautiful; you just are. Peter cannot train himself to be Sirius or James because they just are. He could at least train himself to be more like Lupin, who is scholarly and has a certain animalistic cuteness about him, even though his face is mutilated. Instead, Peter is the fourth wheel in a trio, and he hates Lupin for it.
He stands up, no longer admiring the marvelous sunshine that is already melting the thin layer of snow that managed to fall overnight. He needs to find someone to talk to, someone he knows will be more than willing to help him after Sirius' little joke on Friday night.
He finds Snape sitting on one of the walls furthest away from the most densely populated areas of Hogwarts. Trees emboss most of the stone in shadow, and Peter sees Snape only because his skin is so pale. Snape looks up from his book and gives Peter a long, evaluating sneer before he speaks. "What do you want, Pettigrew? I will not accept any more apologies from that insufferable half-breed, do you understand?"
"I-I'm not here for Lupin…" he uses the surname too comfortably aloud, and perhaps this is his ticket in with Snape. Snape quirks a brow.
"Oh, and what do you want then, Peter?" Snape can see a hint of darkness glimmer beneath Peter's irises.
Wednesday, December 1, 1976 5:43 P.M.
The movies always make choking seem so comical. A person grabs at their throat, indicating dumbly, while the others at the table laugh at how quirky his sign language is. One smartens up and performs the Heimlich maneuver, and a large piece of crepe or crab goes flying across the room to hit a bored waiter in the eye. The person then smoothes out his hair and sits down as if nothing happened. He even starts eating the offending dish as if it hadn't nearly killed him seconds before.
The movies are nothing like real life.
Remus falls out of his chair and onto his knees very suddenly during class and vomits dark pools of chocolate onto the floor. The girl sitting next to him squeals and jumps out of the way, but not before her shoes are splattered with the sticky goop. Sirius and James look at each other across the room because they honestly do not believe that their friend is in any substantial trouble. Professor Binns does not seem to notice what is happening behind him as he draws a large diagram in the air with the tip of a ghostly finger. Remus' body heaves twice, spilling yet more vomit onto the floor. His hands are covered in it.
James reaches him first, kneeling carefully by him. "Are you going to vomit again, Moony?" he asks quietly. Remus nods just before breakfast comes splashing back. Te girl's disgusted murmurs have finally caught Professor Binns' attention.
"Well, take him to Madame Pomfrey then," the professor says before returning to his diagrams of war zones. Sirius hauls Remus up carefully by the waist. James gathers their knapsacks and belongings, glancing to Peter and Lily, who stare open-mouthed from their corner of the room.
Remus clutches Sirius' arm tightly, afraid to let go for fear he'll fall. He felt like this before once when he used his Aunt Tabitha's silver cutlery months after he'd been bitten. His entire body fights the silver like normal children would fight the flu. His temperature rises, he vomits up everything in his stomach, and he shudders. He sweats and stumbles, and depending on what part of his body he can feel, he wants to either jump into a frosty lake or a scalding bath.
On the way to the infirmary, they pass Snape in the hallway. He smirks at Remus and tosses a small vial up and down in one of his hands. "Ever wonder what happened to the werewolf that swallowed silver?" he asks conversationally. James looks up when he hears the voice, Sirius snarls, and Remus lunges at Snape with sudden animosity that is unfortunately not enough without energy behind it.
Snape's eyes widen as he is knocked on his back, but he relaxes when he realizes that Remus is too weak to hurt him. Sirius snatches the vial from his hand and hauls Remus up by his arm. "Come on, Moony. We've got to get to Pomfrey." Remus crawls up the stairs, using the balustrade as a crutch to prevent himself from falling.
Snape leans back against the banister with his hands crossed over his chest. He is smirking like the git that Sirius knows he is. He does not need to say anything slimy and disgusting. He only needs to smile, and Sirius abandons his attempt to help Remus to the infirmary and turns violently on Snape.
"Gee," Snape utters in a manner like that of a naughty Fifties schoolboy pretending to be innocent, "did I do that?"
Sirius pulls Snape up by his hair and pinions him against the banister. He smashes the vial next to Snape's face. Splinters of glass dig into the skin of his palms, stinging sharply. "If you ever pull one of these stunts again, I will kill you. Do you understand me, Snivellus?" He grabs a handful of Snape's greasy hair and uses it to fling him down the stairs, then runs two steps at a time to catch up with Remus and James, who has taken over as the human crutch.
Friday, December 24, 1976 1:00 P.M.
Remus comes downstairs clutching a towel around his waist. He opens the door just a crack and peers through to see Sirius on the doorstep, grinning like a maniac. An aviator's helmet presses his hair flat on his head and goggles are looped around his neck. Remus does not bother to hide his confusion as he throws the door wide open; he simply flattens himself against the wall so that Sirius can pass. Sirius trudges in, boots and clothes heavy from the rain, and stares around the room
Remus attempts to look casual as he leans against the doorjamb. Sirius has seen him in only a towel before, however begrudgingly on Remus' part. Remus crosses his arms over his chest and looks down at Sirius.
"Not that it isn't a pleasant surprise, Sirius, but how did you get here? I thought you and the Potters were going to Germany for Christmas."
"I've just returned from Germany. We spent a few days before Christmas, and Prongs couldn't help but give me my present a bit early. He bought me the most wonderful motorbike! He wasted half of his savings on it. I couldn't believe it. I plan on taking you everywhere on that motorbike until the day one of us dies. It will be the official transportation of the Marauders."
"How long are you going to be here, then?"
Sirius is slightly offended that he is being grilled for doing something kind. He knows that Mr. Lupin will be dealing with Remus' sick aunt in Prague for the holidays, leaving Remus by his lonesome in a house too full of broken memories to function on a comfortable level. Sirius stands with a huff. He squishes his way into the living room and traces a finger over the photo albums sitting on the shelves. He looks idly down at his finger, now dusty.
"Well, come upstairs and get changed into some dry clothes," Remus finally says. "You're getting water all over the carpet."
Remus starts up the stairs two paces ahead of Sirius because he wants to get a room to himself while changing. He's never liked being completely naked, not even if he's the only person in the room. Sirius barges into the room just behind him anyway, and Remus resorts to dressing in the closet.
"Your mirror isn't as charming as the one at school is. It hardly speaks at all," Sirius says. Remus is honed onto his every sound. He can hear the sloshing as Sirius changes into a festive holiday jumper and a pair of old jeans.
"Muggle mirrors don't talk. How many times must I explain that to you?"
"I'm staying with you for the rest of holidays," Sirius says through a yawn.
Remus sighs. Sirius has always changed the subject if he's not interested enough. Their fight over the differences between Muggle and magical innovations often took entire days to sort through back when they first met. Now, Sirius just changes the subject.
"You don't have to. I'm sure I'll bore you to absolute madness with my little rituals around here. And I know how you hate a quiet house."
Remus comes out of the closet and sits on his bed. Sirius plops down next to him and hooks an arm around his neck.
"Well, your father isn't here, so we'll turn up the radio and make an absolute mess of the place. We'll even be rebellious and use mismatched ornaments on the Christmas tree. Can you imagine what the neighbors will think?"
"We'll be banned from Christmas forever. Never mind apologizing. We might as well use last year's wrapping paper to package everything. We're as good as denied all future happiness on Yule," Remus retorts, but despite his words he sounds genuinely pleased. Sirius can tell that Remus appreciates the company, even if he refuses to admit it. "And Sirius?"
"Hm?" Sirius says, already bored and getting restless. He wants James' mother to beat rugs on the back porch all afternoon in preparation for a long list of Potters to arrive at Godric's Hollow. He wants to hear Mr. Potter singing festive tunes while Mrs. Potter forces handfuls of stuffing into the rear end of a giant turkey. He wants fat aunts to pinch his cheeks as if he is their true nephew and to be lost amid a sea of green wrapping paper and red ribbon. Instead, he gets a boy in a cardigan-a boy who still pretends his body is nothing worth looking at, when everyone who has seen him shirtless knows just how kind his werewolf metabolism has been to the body underneath the ugly clothing.
"I am not going anywhere near your motorbike."