Every year, Remus Lupin expected things would get better somehow. He expected to wake up after a full moon with a little less ache and a little more energy. He expected to be able to think the names of his old friends without his throat tightening. The books, the well-meaning advice-givers, the priest in the confession box -- they all said the same thing. Pain faded with time.
The priest had also said a few Hail Mary's would do him good, but Remus wasn't Catholic and the priest didn't know the half of it. He had a sneaking suspicion that the Catholics would want him damned, like everyone else.
His mouth twisted into a bitter smile. Perhaps he would resort to the Hail Mary's now, or tomorrow, or soon -- if the night finally stretched on too long and broke him, as it had threatened to do every day for 12 years. Especially the days like these, waning into darkness with a taunting gibbous moon as Remus sat hunched weakly in an armchair with nothing to contemplate but fading flames and death.
Hogwarts made it worse, in ways, even though he was grateful for the job. He heard James's laughter in the Great Hall, saw Peter in the corridors, felt Sirius's eyes on his back when he crossed the grounds. And once a month, when the wolf who drank his energy and was so much younger than 33 quivered with the wild desire to run, Remus nearly thought he recognized himself, a boy again, careless beneath the --
Moonlight spilled into the clearing, but tonight, Remus didn't hate it. Tonight he faced the prospect of never having to hate it again. One pale, trembling hand reached out to stroke the back of the stag in front of him, awe-struck. "Wow, James," he murmured. He had never looked in a mirror during his own transformations, but he knew his writhing and crying out wasn't as graceful as when James melded into his second form. The stag was natural for James in a way the wolf never would be for Remus.
The stag looked at him, James's twinkle in its brown eyes, and then gave its head an irritated shake toward the other two boys. Sirius and Peter were staring, too--Peter with his mouth agape, Sirius with his usual grin. But the stag's gesture drew them both out of their inaction, and Sirius shook Peter's shoulder. "Your turn, Pete," he said.
The fear on Peter's face caused Remus's stomach to churn unpleasantly. What if Peter couldn't do it? What if he was caught in his animal form, or halfway between rat and human? Sirius's voice rose, playful and unbidden, in his head--'He already looks like a rat, Remy, it won't make any difference!'--but he pushed it away. He couldn't ask Peter to take such a risk on his behalf. "Neither of you have to do this -- James, either -- but I'm sure he would have done it anyway, just to see if he could --"
"So would I," Sirius pointed out. "Maybe not 'til Seventh year, but we would have. Don't go including me in your little speech just to make Pete feel better. I'm brave enough to do it. I just want Pete to go first. If he breaks the law with us, less chance he'll tattle, eh?"
The stag pranced around the clearing, obviously enjoying himself, then trotted over and gently prodded Peter with his nose. Peter closed his eyes. Remus smiled. He knew the other boy was steeling his reserves -- he didn't look up to any of them the way he looked up to James, not with Sirius's taunting and Remus's... Well, weakness. James lacked both, and Peter idolized him. He would do it for James, if he wouldn't for Remus.
Quickly -- Remus watched carefully, doubting he would ever get tired of seeing it happen -- Peter melted down into a rat, and then vanished into the tall grass. Sirius beat out the worries rising in Remus's throat, about snakes and owls and mousetraps, and picked their friend up by the tail. "This does present a problem," he told the rat. "You won't be able to keep up. I guess I could carry you in my mouth -- "
The rat squeaked unpleasantly and squirmed. Peter would not like the idea of riding in Sirius's mouth, if Sirius's jaws were as powerful as he was planning and being a dog didn't somehow make him less forgetful. Peter would be bitten in half before the night was out.
"-- or we can see about you riding on Jamie. Think you would be able to hold on?"
The squealing and squirming ceased. Sirius put Peter on James's back, and then, in a gesture that would live on in jokes for more than a year, slapped a hand against James's flank. "Take him for a spin, Jamie," he ordered with mock sobriety. James gave him a look--he could manage it, even as a deer--and took of galloping, a rat clinging precariously to his back.
Remus watched them go, smiling in spite of himself and his worries that someone would see the odd sight from the castle, until they disappeared behind the thick trees. Then he looked at Sirius, who was watching him with that grin. Remus both loved and hated it, because it usually meant Sirius was thinking of something that amused him. "Well?" he said, and raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're finished. I'm afraid I might still try to eat you, if a monkey is the best you can --"
He didn't finish the thought, because Sirius had turned seamlessly into a huge black dog and was tackling him to the ground, licking all over his face before sitting on its haunches on Remus's stomach and peering down at him with pride. Remus stared up into the pale, laughing eyes. They were still Sirius's eyes, watching him, wanting him to laugh with him. And he did, a soft sort of giggle, before scratching behind the hulking canine's ear. "Bad dog," he said. "We'll have to send you to obedience school."
Sirius knew enough about Muggle pets to whine at the prospect, and he removed himself from Remus, disappearing into the blackness of the forest before Remus could say anything else. He sat up and wiped the slobber off his cheeks with his sleeve, looking around and feeling suddenly left out. Would they transform on other nights, when he was still human and couldn't follow them? Would he watch his three friends race across the grounds from the window in their dorms? Even when they all transformed together, they would remember it so much more clearly, while to him it would be only a vague recollection, like a dream. Would they --
"Hey, Moony," Sirius's voice said from behind him. Remus turned to look, wondering how the dog could talk, and saw that he was a boy again, pale and grinning. He smiled.
Sirius had to give everyone a nickname -- Jamie, Pete, Remy. After they had found out he was a werewolf during Second year, Remus had been given a choice between Fang and Moony, with no "none of the above" option. It was Sirius's way of saying he was willing to do more than keep liking Remus and ignore the werewolf, as both James and Peter had tried to do for months. Sirius would like the werewolf, too.
"Don't call me that," he said, not for the first time.
Sirius ignored him -- he knew Remus appreciated that he had been so accepting. "I saw Jamie and Pete. They're heading off toward Hogsmeade. Reckon Jamie will be back by sunrise?"
"Maybe. Must feel like flying to him."
Remus looked up at the moon as Sirius moved to sit beside him. "One more week," Sirius said. It wasn't the first time the words had come out of his mouth, but they were usually filled with pity, even fear. Now he sounded excited. "I'll race you, Moony."
He felt himself grin. "I'll win. Werewolves aren't normal wolves."
"And I'm not a normal dog," Sirius said. "I'm bigger than you'll be, unless you lied about the height to make yourself sound not so scary."
Remus blushed and looked away. He hadn't lied, but... Had Sirius been afraid? He knew Peter had been, and Sirius furious with him for lying, but Sirius and James had never even appeared mildly frightened. Perhaps they hid it. Remus closed his eyes, trying for the first time to imagine the conversations they must have whispered before finally coming to him with their knowledge. Maybe they hadn't accepted him as quickly as he thought.
Remus felt the other boy's arm move to hang over his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. Unexpected, but not shocking. Sirius hugged people all the time -- being a dog with a big slobbery tongue actually suited him quite well -- and he had a knack for knowing when people were upset. Remus was still for a moment, waiting for Sirius to ask what was wrong, but no questions came. He looked up and saw the other boy smiling at him. Grinning. "Don't you dare lick me," he warned.
A mistake. No amount of wriggling and struggling would spare Remus the wet drag of Sirius's tongue over his cheek. "You -- disgusting --" he sputtered, then gave up in favor of a sulky glare. Sirius was still holding him with one arm, beaming, knowing full well that Remus would get up and run if given the chance.
"Don't challenge me," he said simply, and used the sleeve of his own robe to wipe the spit off of Remus's cheek.
"You two --" Sirius and Remus both turned to look at a very human James, who was being followed by a wide-eyed Peter. Remus squirmed again, trying to escape Sirius's hold, but the other boy refused to let go. James was laughing."-- are the biggest pair of nancies I've ever seen."
"We're not nancies," Sirius said, sounding offended, but Remus was acutely aware of the strong arm around his thin shoulders, unmoving and unashamed. "Are we, -- "
"Lupin!"
He was in his office again, called back by Severus Snape, whose head was hovering darkly in his dying fire. Remus raised an eyebrow in inquisitive answer, not trusting himself to speak steadily without a moment to come out of his reverie. If he tried, his voice would shake. Severus would not reveal his secret; Severus would help him, even, but only because the Headmaster had commanded it. Remus wasn't inclined to show any weakness in front of the Potions master. Nothing that could lead to more snide comments across the dinner table.
"I want a word!"
He smiled his small, indulgent smile. James had always hated that smile -- he could tell it was fake, that he was only smiling because he didn't have the energy or the desire to give his friends a verbal thrashing. Sirius said it made him look like a mistreated servant, secretly thinking snarky things about his masters... But Sirius had said a lot of things, and Remus had promised himself he would stop thinking of them fondly.
Severus's head vanished from the flames, so Remus didn't hide his wince when he stood. Sitting hunched for so long, and so tiredly, had left a soreness in his bones. He crossed over to the fire and, a moment later, was dusting soot off of his robes in Severus's office. He hadn't been inside the potions office since he was a student himself, asking for help from his own teacher. The room, as he remembered it, had been much more friendly then.
"You called, Severus?" he asked mildly, while his eyes hurried to take in the situation. Harry --every time he saw the boy, his heart constricted painfully -- so like James, watching with forced innocence while a teacher waved around an offending... Remus's eyes lit on the parchment in Severus's hand, and his stomach flipped. But it couldn't be, it was gone...
"I certainly did," Severus was saying, but Remus's eyes were on the parchment and the too-familiar handwriting. Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business. Not his words -- Sirius's words, maybe James's -- but his handwriting, neat and somewhat more confident than his writing was now. "I have just asked Potter to empty his pockets. He was carrying --"
"This is going to be so perfect -- "
"-- we'll never get caught again, ever --"
"-- let me see, I can't see --"
"-- grow a few inches, Pete, and all your problems will be solved --"
"-- don't pick on Peter, Sirius, he's taller than Remus and you never --"
"-- Moony isn't finished growing, are you, Moony? Pete is only going to grow out --"
"-- stop calling me fat, Sirius!"
"-- shut up, all of you, Severus is just around the corner!"
The other three fell silent, ears straining for the sound of Severus's footsteps while Remus peered down at the map. The labelled dots were so numerous, they were overwhelming without focus; so their own dots, marked with their names, were blue instead of black. It was easy to find them in the maze of corridors, especially when they were in an empty part of the castle, as they were now. His mouth twitched.
"I don't hear -- " Sirius started, then looked down at the parchment. "He's not anywhere near us! Moony!"
But Remus evaded the bigger boy's effort to grab the map from him, and took off running down the hall. He heard six feet pounding behind him, but didn't worry; Peter was too slow, James too awkward on foot, and Sirius -- well, Sirius might catch him eventually, but only as a matter of endurance. Remus was faster, lighter on his feet, long-legged even if he was short -- and a year of nearly painless transformations had done him well.
The sound of Peter's heavy clunking shoes and James's half-staggering gait faded as he turned corner after corner. He was still less in shape than his friends, and his legs would begin to give out long before Sirius's would, but in the meantime he could sprint ahead, painless as he could never remember being.
Behind him, something changed. The sound of Sirius's footsteps. Remus chanced a glance over his shoulder and saw a dog, huge and black and gaining on him easily, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, grinning as only a dog could. "Cheater!" Remus hissed under his breath. His legs were beginning to burn beneath him -- before long, he would have to give up and face whatever tickling, prodding, teasing punishment Sirius and James could come up with -- but maybe he could hide. He saw his opportunity ahead, an adjacent corridor, but kept running straight until he was upon it and turned sharply --
Too sharply. His smooth-bottomed shoes slid out from under him and he fell to the side, hitting first his elbow and then his head on the hard stone floor. And he must have passed out for a moment, because when he opened his eyes, Sirius was crouching over him, human and concerned. "You stupid, clumsy git."
It was Sirius's way of asking if he was hurt. Remus smiled, lop-sided and sore. "Cheater," he repeated, just in case Sirius's dog ears hadn't caught his earily accusation. His way of saying he was fine.
"Liar," Sirius countered. "I think your map-holding privleges are officially revoked."
The map, still clutched in Remus's fist, was removed with minimal resistance. He knew Sirius wasn't serious. At most, the other boys would keep it from him for a few days before caving in again. All the same, righteous indignation rose in his throat. "You can't -- I made it, I --"
"You made most of it," Sirius corrected, slipping it into the pocket of his robes. "But it was Jamie's idea, and Pete helped, and I've added things to it that you'll never figure out." He said the last part smugly; he knew, and Remus knew he knew, that Remus couldn't resist a puzzle.
Sirius leaned down, still smirking, and stared into Remus's eyes. The closeness made the other boy squirm. "What are you doing, Sirius?" he asked, more warning in his tone than question. He was on his back, his throat was exposed, he wouldn't stand for being submissive...
Sirius didn't seem to catch it. One of his hands lifted to Remus's face and brushed over his cheek before continuing up, to probe the sore spot on the side of his head. "Making sure you don't have a concussion, of course," he said. "You're so delicate, Remy, Madame Pomfrey would -- "
In a blink, Remus had flipped the bigger boy onto his back."I am not delicate," Remus said as he sat up, dangerously close to snarling. As soon as the words left his throat, scraping and guttural, he regretted the anger. He hadn't meant it; he knew Sirius didn't think he was weak. Sirius was the only one of his friends who didn't. But the wolf prowling beneath the surface of his mind didn't know that.
For a moment Sirius looked shocked, sprawled back on his elbows; then he smiled grimly."Sorry, Moony," he said. "I was just teasing."
Remus nodded, pink-cheeked and embarrassed. To snarl at Sirius, of all people -- Sirius, who didn't look down on his shortcomings like Peter, or try to protect him when he didn't need it like James; Sirius, who always seemed to know when he needed to be sheltered and comforted and when he needed to be left alone; Sirius, so much the puppy, affectionate and unassuming and guarding... Sirius didn't deserve his feral anger.
"I'm sorry," he said, but Sirius was already forgetting, grinning, pulling him to his feet.
"Shh," the dark-haired boy said, and winked. "Jamie is coming. Can't you hear? Don't want him calling us steamers again, do we?"
Remus shook his head. Of course he didn't. Of course.
James arrived, then Peter, and Sirius said something rude about Lily Evans, and then they were off again, James trying to catch and kill Sirius, Peter wanting to watch, Remus wanting to stop them -- they were laughing, calling, fleeting, fading --
-- only ghosts now, all four of them. Remus gritted his teeth.
"Well?" Severus asked.
Remus tore his eyes away from the map and looked up at Severus, who was watching him with an all-too-familiar glint in his eyes. Remus recognized it from their years at school, from every time Severus had seen something that would get James into trouble... And from the moments during Seventh year, when he allowed the conversation at the Slytherin table to veer dangerously close to Remus's condition and looked at Remus across the room to make sure he knew how vulnerable he was.
But they were not in school any longer, and Severus would not be able to blame any slips on childishness. Dumbledore would have his head. For now, he and Remus were equals; with Harry in the balance, watching him with eyes that dared to hope, looking so much like James, Remus would not submit.
"Well?" Severus repeated. His frustration at Remus's lack of stammered excuses was obvious, and Remus decided with some relief that Severus only suspected. He didn't know anything for certain, as usual. "This parchment is plainly full of Dark Magic," the Potions master continued. His frustration gave way to bitterness. "This is supposedly your area of expertise, Lupin. Where do you suspect Potter got such a thing?"
"Full of Dark Magic?" Remus repeated faintly, making a show of looking at the thing. James never would have let them do it, if Dark Magic had been involved. Sirius would have had a fit, too, perhaps... When did you change? "Do you really think so, Severus? It looks to me as though it were merely a piece of parchment that insults anybody who reads it." But it was so much more -- things even Remus didn't know, things he wouldn't find out of he stayed up all night trying and slept through History of Magic for the first and only time. "Childish, but surely not dangerous? I imagine Harry got it from a joke shop -- "
His own words echoed falsely in his head. He knew it wasn't dangerous and there was no harm in letting Harry keep it. Sirius knew all of the passages into the school already, and with his sensitive dog's ears and nose would be able to avoid being seen with or without the map... He would be able to smell Harry... But he wouldn't be able to explain that to Severus, or to Dumbledore, without revealing more than he was willing. If Severus found out what the map was, he would think it very dangerous, and try to make it out to be even more dangerous than he thought.
"Indeed?" Severus was saying. Remus glanced at Harry with what he hoped to be an encouraging look before focusing on the other professor. "You think a joke shop could supply him with such a thing? You don't think it more likely that he got it directly from the manufacturers?"
How many times had he overheard them using those nicknames? Perhaps it was only a vague recollection. Nothing he could prove. Remus kept his face controlled.
"You mean, by Mr. Wormtail or one of these people?" he asked mildly, pretending to look at the parchment again, as if searching for their identities. Peter. Dear God, only a finger... "Harry, do you know any of these men?"
"No." The boy's response was quick, hurried. Honest, in this case, but still guilty. He was a lot like James, yes, but his ability to lie effectively left something to be desired. Not that Remus encouraged lying. No, no, that was James and Sirius, standing in front of him and doing all the talking, fearing even after years of knowing him that he might give them away to the professors. You could have trusted me, James.
Thirteen years of sleeping on park benches and explaining to the police that he was just waiting for his wife to come get him, of making up answers in Muggle job interviews, had perfected the talent for untruths he had already possessed as an 11-year-old. He turned to Severus again, expression placid. "You see, Severus? It looks like a Zonko's product to me -- "
As if Severus would believe that Zonko's had the capacity for something like this. The insults were too personal, custom-written for Severus Snape should he ever get his greasy hands on it. Sirius's words again. Remus mentally rebuked himself.
With perfect timing and red ears, Ron Weasely burst into the room. "I -- gave -- Harry -- that -- stuff." Remus felt relief flood him, all the way to his cold fingertips, and decided to add some points back to the boy's latest homework assignment. Surely saving one's friend from Severus Snape could be considered defense against the Dark Arts. "Bought -- it... in Zonko's... ages -- ago."
Severus's face betrayed the workings of his mind. He was fighting to find something logical, something more than his hunch and dislike for the boys, to take to the Headmaster. Given too much time, he would surely come up with something. So Remus clapped his hands together and smiled with a brightness he didn't feel. "Well! That seems to clear that up!" he said cheerfully, and reached out to take the map with a firm grip. "Severus, I'll take this back, shall I? Harry, Ron, come with me, I need a word about my vampire essay -- excuse us, Severus --"
He led the boys out of Severus's office, at once relieved to be rid of the room and the man inside of it. He could think more clearly in the halls. How did he get it? And then -- James would be so proud. Remus glanced back at Harry, who hadn't said a word. Surely he could let down the mantle of the professor just this once. Severus would never find out, and it was Harry... James would have wanted him to have the map, and it wasn't as if Remus had any use for it now. He would only torture himself with it, with the ghosts of his friends hidden in the folds.
"I've added things to it that you'll never figure out."
He stopped walking, not even noticing that they had reached the Great Hall, and looked down at the parchment in his hands.
"Professor, I --"
"I don't want to hear explanations," he interrupted, more sharp than he liked to be.
But, really, didn't Harry deserve it, just a little? Remus knew the map wasn't dangerous, that Sirius would find a way with or without it if he could find a way at all -- but Harry didn't know that. He couldn't have. He had been careless. Reckless. James's rule-breaking had never been life-threatening. Yes, James would lecture him, too. Not the 16-year-old James insulting Severus through a piece of parchment -- that James would have clapped him on the back and laughed -- but the 20-year-old James who had died trying to keep his wife and son alive. That James would want Remus to keep the map.
"I happen to know that this map was confiscated by Mr. Filch many years ago," Remus continued. His voice was stern, more so than he had ever imagined it would be with James's son. "Yes, I know it's a map. I don't want to know how it fell into your possession. I am, however, astounded that you didn't hand it in. Particularly after what happened the last time a student left information about the castle lying around."
James would have been angry, too. He was doing the right thing, taking it away. Any responsible adult would do the same. No good could come from Harry having it, unless perhaps it showed him Sirius Black, warned him, but couldn't Remus watch it just as well? Better? He knew its secrets.
"... you'll never figure out..."
Never able to resist a puzzle, indeed.
"And I can't let you have it back, Harry," he finished with finality, and prepared for the arguments. But none came.
"Why did Snape think I'd got it from the manufacturers?" Harry asked. Remus sighed. First the werewolf lesson, now this -- Dumbledore certainly wouldn't have approved, but Remus had never been one to go running to the headmaster. Besides, he didn't want to answer the inevitable questions.
"Because...," Remus said, frowning down at the map, "because these mapmakers would have wanted to lure you out of the school. They'd think it extremely entertaining."
"Do you know them?"
"Remus John Lupin, you stupid, arrogant bastard. Get up. Now. You're coming home with me. James said to call him if you didn't cooperate, and we'll make you -- Merlin, look at you! Haven't you been eating at all? I'm going to fatten you up, and then I'm going to kill you!"
"We've met," Remus said simply.
