Professor Questus had been right (like he usually was, the self-assured git). He had told Remus that time would help, and... time did indeed help, to Remus' great surprise, even though it had felt as if it never, ever would. Every kind-of-okay hour spawned an even-more-okay hour, which led to almost-okay hours, which led to really-close-to-okay hours, which led to on-the-very-verge-of-okay hours, which led to Remus' first gloriously okay moment.
The moment in question was on December fifth. More than a week of Sirius' insensitive comments, James' pitying gazes, and Peter's cluelessness had passed. Remus had learned a few things about his "new" friends (they were the same old friends as always, of course, but things had changed now that they knew, and Remus was slowly learning exactly how that would come into play).
James Potter was dangerously loyal. Fiercely loyal. Terrifyingly loyal. Every single time that Remus even came close to insinuating that he was dooming them to a life of secrecy and pity, James would butt in with angry reassurance that he liked Remus anyway, no matter what, forever. It didn't really make Remus (who was terrified of the word "forever") feel any better, but Remus supposed it was a sweet gesture. James also wanted to know everything about Remus' condition, which meant that Remus got more than a few awkward questions. James had started writing down his questions in the notebook after a while (because of course he couldn't actually ask them in public), and he had brief questioning periods every night with Remus... which was quite possibly the most awkward thing ever.
"So... does the fact that you like to read have to do with you being a werewolf?"
"I... guess. Since I was home a lot as a kid. And injured and things. No friends. Nothing else to do, really."
"What about your wardrobe?"
"Maybe. Jumpers, since I'm really thin and I get cold easily. Long sleeves and trousers. Don't want anyone to see my skin."
"Ah, all right. Is the fact that you can't lift a lot of heavy things because you're a werewolf? Are you covering up super strength?"
"I mean...? Yeah, it's because I'm injured most of the time, but I'm not hiding any super strength."
"And you don't like to talk to people because you're a werewolf?"
"I suppose."
"And you jump at loud noises because you're a werewolf?"
"Yeah."
"Aw. So what about the fact that you could touch your tongue to your nose at lunch today? No one else could do it, not even when I bet Sirius three Galleons. Is that because you're a werewolf?"
"...I doubt it."
James was also prone to pity—he always got that same look in his eyes when Remus told them something unfortunate about his condition. Remus had nightmares almost every night while he was adjusting to the new way of life—even with the Pensieve—and he finally broke down and told James everything after a particularly gruesome one that ended in wracking sobs, a sore jaw from tenseness, and an awful headache from hyperventilating. That one ended up waking everybody in the dormitory, and Remus figured that he owed them an explanation. It even woke up Puttle, to Remus' great embarrassment, but Puttle quickly left after he saw how awkward the whole situation was. One could say what one wanted about the Gryffindor Prefect, but at least he knew when to exit.
"I have nightmares of the werewolf who bit me," he whispered at one in the morning to his enraptured audience, "and those are pretty bad... I was attacked while I was sleeping next to my window in Wales when I was four... and I've never slept next to a window since. But now I do, and it's making it a bit harder to sleep through the night."
"We can switch," said James instantly, pity filling his eyes immediately. "I'll switch with you."
"No. I've lost enough already to the event, James. At this point... it feels... like... I dunno. Like I need to do this. Like... I have to. You know?"
To Remus' great surprise, James nodded slowly. "I think I get it."
"You do?" Remus couldn't imagine James understanding how he'd lost his whole life to Greyback, and how he was ashamed to still be affected so potently, and how he just needed this one thing or else he'd feel like he'd failed... James couldn't possibly understand all that. Remus didn't hardly, himself.
"Yeah," said James. "When I was eight, I broke my brand-new broomstick and my parents had to get it fixed at the store. Was a pretty good model, but the store messed it up a bit when they were trying to fix it! After that day, the charms on the broomstick were incredibly defective. It went half as fast, was hard to turn, and was generally unpredictable. They offered to buy me a new one, but I saw it as a challenge! I wanted to ride it all the way across the lake next to the Potter estate in less than seven minutes—taking the long course with the tree branches that I had to dodge—which was a pretty commendable achievement even with a good broom! I ended up achieving the goal in six months, and then I let my mum and dad buy me a new broom. And I was twice as good at flying after having flown so well with the broken one. So it's like that, isn't it? A challenge?"
"I guess it does feel... like a challenge," said Remus slowly. "Yeah. That's a surprisingly good metaphor."
"So what are your other nightmares about?" asked Sirius.
"Well... you know... when I'm a wolf on the full moon, I don't know right from wrong..."
"Uh-huh."
"So... I want to do things that I would never want to do now. Like hurt people."
"Cool," said Sirius.
"Not cool. I..." He felt his eyes brimming with tears and wiped them away, frustrated. He didn't used to cry this much. What was wrong with him? "I dream about... escaping. Forgetting about a full moon. Hurting people. Especially... you." His cheeks burned red, and he buried his face in his hands. It was so embarrassing, so dehumanizing to admit his friends that he dreamed about attacking them and eating their remains. It was disgusting, it was horrifying, it was...
"Woah," said James. Remus looked up at him, and his eyebrows were crinkled in pity rather than disgust. "Oh, Remus, that's terrible. That's awful. I can't even imagine."
This was why Remus hated pity. It made him want to cry more, and that made him want to talk more, and that made him want to cry more, and the cycle tended to continue until Remus' eyes and cheeks were dry and hot as the Sahara Desert from dehydration and embarrassment. "I hate it so much," he sobbed. "It was never a problem at home because I grew up believing that the cellar could hold me... but now I'm at school and everything's different and I'm transforming in a place that doesn't look safe... even though it is because Dumbledore charmed it himself... and I'm worried all the time that I'm going to forget about a full moon or escape or you're going to get curious and follow me for the fun of it and I'm going to hurt you. I'm in a school full of children. No one wants me here. Not the Ministry, not my uncle, not the general wizarding population... and I can't help but dream about me being dangerous and them being right..." He was aware that he was rambling so he stopped and hiccupped. "Sorry."
"No wonder you were scared of having friends," said James, his eyes still haunted. "I'm so sorry."
Remus couldn't help but go off again. It was late, he was distressed, and he couldn't stop talking or crying at this point. "The worst part is that the dreams about the window go away when I'm not next to a window, but these don't. No matter where I am. I wake up in the Hospital Wing and I won't let Madam Pomfrey touch me because I'm scared of hurting her and I'm all weepy and my face is blotchy and I'm CRYING IN FRONT OF MADAM POMFREY and now I'm CRYING IN FRONT OF YOU and I'm so embarrassed. Merlin's beard." He immediately realized where he was and stopped. "Sorry."
"Don't worry about it. I'm here if you ever need to talk," said James, which made Remus want to cry more.
"No, I've already told you too much. Now you'll feel all awkward every time I wake up and you realize that I was attacking you in my sleep."
"I actually think it's kinda cool," said James. "Not for you, obviously! I'm sure it's awful. But for me. Think about it... I'm one of the few to survive a werewolf bite and still be perfectly human!"
Remus stared at him for a few seconds, open-mouthed. It was such an absurdly insensitive and illogical thing to say... and then he started laughing. "It doesn't work like that, you idiot."
James Potter was, for all his faults, still wonderful at cheering people up. That hadn't changed.
Sirius, on the other hand, did not pity. He was insensitive and rude. He said things that made Remus sort of want to tear his hair out (either his or Sirius', he wasn't picky). He even talked about werewolves outside of the dormitory, which made Remus' breathing speed up so much that he was afraid that he would float away due to all the oxygen saturating his body. Sirius Black did not think before he spoke—he never had.
He also thought that being a werewolf was cool, which made Remus very uncomfortable. James did that, too—the both of them seemed to appreciate Remus' heightened senses even more than Professor Questus did (James wouldn't stop talking about how useful they would be when sneaking out after dark). But Sirius was, above all, a teenage boy. He may not have liked the sight of blood, but the prospect of having a giant, dangerous, near-invincible beast for a friend made him very happy. For someone who was so afraid of blood, Remus often wondered where Sirius' empathy was.
Sirius felt horrible still about all the things that he had said before he knew Remus' secret, but that didn't stop him from saying things that hurt Remus even more. They were just jokes—just tiny, tasteless jokes—not unlike the ones that Professor Questus or even Remus himself often made. But they were made at the most inappropriate times, in the most inappropriate circumstances; and furthermore, Remus only felt comfortable joking about his condition with people whose werewolf sentiments and limitations he could properly gauge. Madam Pomfrey. Professor Questus. Maybe Dumbledore. Other than that, he felt that he should be the one with sole werewolf-joke privileges. Because, even though Remus knew and loved Sirius, the adults knew when to stop. Sirius didn't—and that, not the actual joke itself, was what terrified Remus.
Because, despite all the jokes that he made about his own condition, Remus was still sensitive sometimes, and Sirius Black didn't have an ounce of tact. Remus simply didn't trust Sirius to stay within the lines of what was socially and morally acceptable. The lines twisted and blurred depending on the circumstance, the person, and the topic—oh, Remus knew they were inconsistent and confusing—and some people could follow those lines and stay within them, but Sirius Black could not. Tact had never been Sirius' strong suit was all.
Remus supposed that he could get used to it, however, if only Sirius would just wait until they got to the dormitory instead of joking in the corridors like it was a public announcement!
He did have a nice conversation with Sirius about family. Sirius hadn't known that Remus had been disowned before, and he was very interested in the whole topic. They chatted in the dormitory one afternoon while James and Peter were flying brooms outside, and it was a surprisingly pleasant conversation (at least compared to what Remus had expected).
"What did it feel like to be disowned?" Sirius asked Remus.
"Er... I was four. I don't really remember. They just completely cut contact and moved away. I don't think I'd even recognize them if I saw them. Now it's... just about awkwardly avoiding talking about them around the house and being careful to say 'my father's father' instead of 'my grandfather' because technically he's not and he'd be offended if he heard me say that. Not that it matters, because he never will, but I don't feel he deserves the title anyhow."
"So you really do know what it's like to have a family that doesn't love you?" said Sirius. That was the same as ever—Sirius found comfort in solidarity. He loved to know that other people felt what he did. Remus knew that, at least, about Sirius.
"Yes," said Remus quietly. "Most of them hate me. Now, my uncle didn't disown me. Dad's brother. But he loves my father, not me, as he reminds me constantly."
"And what does that feel like?"
"Well... I only came to terms with it day after Halloween. Apparently, he recommended that my parents... I shouldn't be telling you this."
"What? Please tell me."
Remus' stomach twisted, but he obliged. "After I was bitten. He recommended that I be killed."
"Weren't you... four?"
"Yes. But he didn't believe that I would be the same person. Thought I'd lose all of my emotions, morals, and sense of being. I only found out about that after Halloween when Professor Questus told me. I dunno how he found out—Questus just manages to find out stuff like that. It's weird."
"Woah." Sirius became very quiet.
"Anyway... I think I do know what it's like for you, kind of. I knew that he didn't like me, but I thought that maybe somewhere deep down... he loved me. Not because he liked me, but because I was family. It was hard to accept, mostly because I still love him. Not because I like him... but because he's my uncle. And it hurts to think about... you know... how much he must really hate me if I can still love him after all he's done to me, because I'm hardly a better person than he is."
"Yes," said Sirius. "Yes, that's exactly how I feel with my family. And Regulus... I love him, but I don't like him, you know? And it hurts to know that I don't like him, because I want to... but I can't stand to be near him. And it's not his fault, it's mine. I just... don't like him. He makes me want to throttle him. But I love him as a brother. That didn't make any sense."
"It did," said Remus.
Sirius may have been insensitive, but it helped Remus immensely to know that he was helping Sirius. Remus had been feeling so selfish all week, and helping someone else sort out their feelings (the exact same feelings that Remus had been trying to sort out) helped the both of them, Remus thought.
Peter was a completely different story: Remus liked to think of himself as an intuitive, empathetic person, yes... but he didn't know what on earth Peter thought about the whole thing, no matter how closely he looked.
Peter was getting bolder, to be sure; it was like he was trying to make up for Remus' newfound sense of extreme timidness. Remus was so uncomfortable nowadays that he stopped talking nearly as much as he used to (James and Sirius had appreciated Remus' witty comebacks, but now they were few and far between unless Remus was particularly nervous or particularly comfortable), but Peter filled up Remus' occasional silence with jokes of his own. Remus, who was used to thinking rather than talking when he was emotionally overwhelmed, appreciated this very much.
Peter was also resorting to physical contact more. He'd always been more touch-oriented than Sirius and James, but now he was downright clingy. Remus often found Peter patting his shoulder or leaning into him at the most random times, which made Remus feel a little uncomfortable. His friends didn't know where his injuries and sensitive spots were like Madam Pomfrey or his parents did, and touching felt different now that they knew what he was.
While Sirius and James were reluctant to touch Remus (not because they were scared or disgusted by him, but because they were young boys... Remus thought), Peter's go-to apology, means of comfort, or sign of boredom was physical contact. Sirius and James didn't say anything about that, so Remus wondered vaguely if Peter had always been like that with him. He must have been. Perhaps Remus just hadn't noticed.
Remus had used to enjoy physical touch with his friends. He'd never voluntarily touched anyone outside of his parents before, and something as simple as brushing his shoulder up against one of them and not noticing a flinch as they came into contact with a monster was enough to make him unbearably happy. But this was different, somehow. Peter didn't seem to be revulsed to be touching Remus... but perhaps he was just trying to get over his fear? Perhaps he was worried that if he didn't show open affection towards Remus, Remus would hurt him? Remus didn't want that.
On December fourth, Remus found his friends at the Quidditch pitch, watching James practice. James always looked elated to be practicing with people closer to his skill, and his bossy attitude had improved immensely. Together, they watched James do progressively more impressive dives for a few moments, and then Remus pulled Peter aside. "Er... Peter."
"Yes?" said Peter, blinking up at Remus with blue eyes that did not show a hint of fear. But maybe Peter was just really good at hiding it. That boy was impossibly good at hide-and-go-seek, so he certainly had an advantage when it came to hiding fear.
"Can I talk to you? Alone?" Remus asked. "If... it doesn't make you too uncomfortable, I mean. It's okay if it does. I'll just wait..." Remus edged away when Peter didn't immediately respond, his cheeks burning in embarrassment. How did that look? Like a monster was trying to get Peter alone so that it could hurt him? Massive mistake on Remus' part.
To Remus' surprise, however, Peter grabbed his arm and shrugged. "We've been alone together tons of times before. Why would it make me uncomfortable?"
"Are you sure?"
"Of course. Dormitory?"
"Yes, please. Hey... Sirius? We're going back in."
"Great. I'll come with you," said Sirius. "James is boring, anyhow."
"James plays better when someone's watching him," Remus pointed out, "and I want to talk to Peter alone."
"What, are you going to claw him to death once you have him alone and dispose of the body?" Sirius scoffed. "I'm all for it. See you later."
Remus froze. "Sirius...!"
"It's just a joke," said Sirius. "I know you wouldn't do anything like that."
"Yes, but..."
"See you later," said Sirius with a little wave of his hand.
Remus started walking towards the castle, not even checking to see if Peter was following him until they were passing the Whomping Willow. Peter was. "Did that hurt your feelings?" said Peter.
"Not... really," said Remus. "I... just..." He hugged his middle, embarrassed to be so emotional.
Peter grabbed Remus' arm and threaded his arm through it. "It's okay. I know you wouldn't claw me to death. Your fingernails are too short for that."
"Thanks, I think," said Remus, smiling slightly (though he wasn't really feeling any ounce of happiness). They walked to the castle in silence, reached the dormitory, and then entered. Remus shut the door behind him as tightly as he could. "Er, Peter... I just wanted to talk to you... alone."
"Sure!" said Peter. "About what? Pensley? Homework? Talking of Pensley, I haven't finished that essay yet..."
Remus wondered why Peter was thinking of homework at a time like this; he'd just discovered that his best friend was a werewolf. Surely there were more important things to worry about? "No," said Remus, "but we can work on that later. It's just that I haven't talked to you personally since... since you found out. And it's really obvious how James and Sirius feel about it, but... I want to know what you... think... about it all...?"
"Isn't it obvious?" said Peter, furrowing his eyebrows. "I don't care."
"Everyone cares," said Remus. "Even James and Sirius care. James pities me. Sirius gets uncomfortable when I'm emotional. James is curious. Sirius sort of wants the old Remus back. James gets angry at anyone who's ever done anything bad to me. Sirius likes that I understand the situation with his family. James still thinks I'm fragile. Sirius is annoyed when I make a big deal out of it. James..."
"Okay, I get it," said Peter. "But I really don't care. About you being a werewolf, I mean. I'm sorry you have to go through all that, of course, and I still can't really comprehend it. But you're exactly the same as you've always been. You were a werewolf last year, and you still included me when James and Sirius wouldn't and helped me with my homework. So I don't see why I should treat you any differently. And honestly, it doesn't matter to me if you want me to pretend that I don't know or have me not ask questions or something. I don't like learning new things, so I'm not really curious at all. I'll do whatever you like, because I don't care."
"But I'm a werewolf. You've got to feel something about the topic."
"James trusts you. Sirius trusts you. They're brighter than I am, so why shouldn't I trust them and therefore you? You're the only one who's ever been nice to me all the time, ever. I can't lose that. And you're no different than you were before, only... more scared. And I get scared all the time, so I get it." Peter paused and then continued. "Maybe I was a little scared of you at first, but I found out a really long time ago. I'm used to the idea now. Mostly... mostly I just didn't like it because James and Sirius knew for weeks before they told me. And then they didn't even ask how I felt about it. It was like I wasn't even there." Peter's eyes brimmed with tears, and—without warning—he barreled over to Remus and hugged him tightly. "Thanks so much for asking," he said. "This is why I don't care, see? You're the same as always."
Remus sat there, stunned. Peter really didn't care. Peter was the first person he'd ever met—ever!—who genuinely didn't care. And he was just as emotional as Remus sometimes, and he knew what it was like to care about what other people thought of him, and he might hug Remus a little more than Remus was comfortable with, but Remus would gladly look past that...
Remus hugged Peter back and smiled his first real smile in days.
The first okay moment came the very next day, when Remus was outside with his friends. James was throwing the rubber ball that Remus had given him in first year (the charm, originally intended to make it fly, had worn off a long time ago) and catching it expertly. Sirius was laughing at something stupid that James had said. Remus was actually cracking jokes with them without even worrying about how sarcasm would negatively affect his "meek and innocent" image. Peter was leaning against Remus' shoulder and laughing.
It was a small moment, but it felt completely normal... and completely okay. Remus didn't even realize what was happening until they were walking back inside, shoulder to shoulder, still giggling. Remus suddenly stopped and looked at Peter, open-mouthed.
"What is it?" said Peter.
"Yeah?" said Sirius.
"Everything okay?" said James.
Remus could feel his face break into a sunny smile. "Yes. Everything's okay."
"'Course it is," said Sirius, and his flippant attitude proved that he wasn't watching Remus all the time and concerned about his mental state like Madam Pomfrey would have been.
"I'm glad," said James, which proved that he actually cared about Remus, not about a werewolf.
Peter didn't say anything, which proved that he couldn't really care less one way or another.
Remus smiled even more widely and kept walking.
Things were okay.
AN: "Maybe okay will be our always."
- John Green, except we already know that Remus Lupin will most certainly NOT "always" be "okay". Kid's got a rough life both behind and ahead of him.