For the Writing Club [Character Appreciation] on the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Forum.


i.

Remus frowned as he watched Regulus slink away, weaving his way through stacks and disappearing in the distance. James leaned against the table, his hair ruffled and belt unbuckled and low on his hips.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Moony. Just relax. I'm just having some fun."

Remus looked pointedly away as James readjusted his trousers. "Some fun? With Sirius' brother?"

"Some very good fun."

"Fuck's sake." Remus had the sudden desire to smack the smug smirk off his friend's face. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets, clenched, to curb the urge. "You could have at least been less public about it. The library, James? Really?"

"Well, Padfoot never goes to the library. We thought it would be a safe bet."

"The rest of the bloody school does."

"And yet this is the first time we've been caught."

The words made Remus freeze mid-step. Then, in a burst of fury, he spun around and repeatedly prodded James in the chest with his wand.

"The first time?" His voice was low and deliberate. "Is this a regular thing?"

James didn't have to say anything. For the first time that evening, he had the decency to look just a little bit bashful. It was all the answer that Remus needed. He could feel the blood rushing to his face and he turned quickly in an effort to hide it. He picked up his pace, taking long strides through the library.

"Moony!" James moved quickly behind him. "Just don't tell anyone, okay? Especially not...well, you know."

Somehow, the admittance—that he's doing something wrong—made it worse. Remus couldn't find the words to respond. He wasn't sure he wanted to.

ii.

But it wasn't James who convinced Remus to keep his mouth shut. No. That honour went to Regulus Black.

Remus found them one month later—one long blissful month later. There had even been moments when he'd thought that maybe James had heeded his advice, that the two had given up on their trysts. But then it happened. Remus, on patrol near the Astronomy Tower, heard some shuffling in a hidden alcove. When he'd ripped back the curtain, the two had stumbled out, tripping over their feet and falling to the ground in front of him.

"Again?!" he hissed.

"Remus, please." James brushed off his trousers and stood, offering a hand to pull Regulus up. "No need for hysterics. You'll wake up the whole castle."

"Hysterics? Really?"

"Really."

"James."

Remus tried not to act surprised at Regulus' gentle chiding. He pulled himself together quickly to say, "Just go to bed. Your separate beds. Both of you."

"Wait!" Regulus almost sounded desperate. "You haven't told Sirius, have you?"

"No, but I might now!" Remus exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. "I didn't tell him the first time because I thought you were going to stop. But if this is—if you're really..."

"We're not," James interrupted. "Look, we're not asking you to do anything. Really, we're just asking you not do something."

"Like tell my brother."

But as James continued talking—pleading and joking and rambling to no end—Remus' eyes wandered down to the two boy's hands, still connected and gently swinging between their bodies. Regulus' thumb was rubbing small circles on the back on James' hand. It was a gentleness that Remus hadn't expected to find between them.

"Fine. I won't tell him."

The relief in Regulus' eyes faded the moment James pulled his hand away in favour of giving Remus a grateful clap on the shoulder. And if Remus looked closely—and he was looking very closely—he thought that there might have been a flash of envy there.

iii.

"Cover for me, will you?"

Remus slammed his book down. "No."

"Come on, Moony." James was already shrugging on a jacket. "It won't even be for that long."

It only incensed Remus further. How could James act so casual? So flippant? As if what he was doing wouldn't crush Sirius. That is, if Sirius ever figured out. Really, it was a small miracle that he hadn't already. It was as if promising not to tell had unleashed a curse upon Remus. He found himself bumping into the pair over and over and over again.

James found it hilarious. Remus, on the other hand, very much did not.

"Regulus made the Quidditch team. He wants to celebrate."

"That's a rather charming way of putting it," he responded dryly. "The answer's still no. I promised not to say anything. I did not promise to lie to Sirius for you."

But James didn't even look back when he sauntered out of the room, with only a flippant wave over his shoulder as a goodbye. The door shuddered close, leaving Remus by himself, red-faced and fuming.

And when Sirius slipped into the room later with a wide grin and questions about James' whereabouts, Remus had truly resolved to come clean, Regulus and James be damned. He was ready—braced to take his arrow as the messenger.

But as soon as his eyes met Sirius', the words died in his throat. He looked so happy. And so, for the first since his own little secret had been found out, Remus lied.

"I dunno," he said, his eyes trained on the ground in front of him. But he did manage to keep his voice. "He's probably out harassing Evans. Poor lass."

Sirius flopped down on his bed. "Oh, young love!"

It was done. The lie was told—the lie was believed. Much to his dismay, telling the lie was a lot easier than he thought it would be. And over the next few months, Remus would tell the same lie over and over and over again.

iv.

After Sirius broke the news about Regulus receiving the Mark—a generous birthday gift from the Dark Lord himself—Remus stopped finding James and Regulus in dark alcoves and hidden stacks.

"What? It's not fun anymore?" Remus' eyes were hard. "Dark Mark doesn't turn you on?"

"Not funny, Moony."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I forgot. This was all just such good fun, wasn't it?"

"Shut it," James snapped. "We're not... Look, you got what you wanted, didn't you?"

Remus stared at him, incredulous. "Got I wanted? You think I wanted Regulus to—"

"You know that's not what I meant."

After a beat of silence, Remus asked, "Was it serious? Did you...?"

"It was just fun. I told you that." But James' voice was flat when he continued, "I never said thank you. You know, for not telling Pads."

"Don't mention it."

v.

Lily finally succumbed to James' charms just one week later. For Remus, it felt like a cruel joke. With the threat of Sirius' disapproval no longer hanging over him, the few efforts James had made to be subtle completely disappeared with Lily. They were all over each other in every nook and cranny the castle had to offer. It was nauseating.

"Does she know?" Remus tried to sound nonchalant. "About you and..."

"She doesn't need to know."

"So, no."

"It was just a bit of fun. And it's done now."

"So, no," Remus repeated.

"No," James said, glaring. "She doesn't know. You really needed me to say it?"

Remus shrugged. He couldn't explain why he'd wanted to hear it out loud. But he'd craved it and hearing James say it—gruff and clearly annoyed—was truly satisfying.

"Look..." James frowned, running a hand through his hair. "Moony, I'd really rather she didn't find out. It'll confuse her."

"Yeah, yeah. Not a fucking word."

Later, there would be times when he pictured telling her. When he comforted her after a particularly public fight with James in the common room. When James announced that he was going to propose. When she came to him after the proposal, asking if he thought they were too young.

But telling Lily would have meant telling Sirius, and Remus still couldn't bring himself to do that. And so, Remus' lips remained sealed.

vi.

"Prongs, we need to talk about the..." Sirius trailed off, lowering his voice. "We need to talk about the Fidelius Charm. I don't think I should be your Secret Keeper."

James couldn't stop his jaw from dropping. "What?"

"It'll be too obvious," Sirius insisted. "We're practically brothers. People will know it's me. Look, I think you should ask Wormtail. It's perfect. Everyone will go after me, but he'll keep your secret."

He didn't want to admit it, but it did make sense. Besides, James had seen that wild look in Sirius' eyes more times than he could count and he knew that Sirius had made up his mind—there was no swaying him now.

Still, James paused. "What about Moony?"

"Not Moony. He's not..." Sirius looked uncertain. "Come on, Prongs. He's skittish. Nervous. No good at keeping secrets."

"Remus, the werewolf, is bad at keeping secrets?" James asked, eyebrows raised.

"Exactly. Remus, the werewolf. We all figured it out, didn't we?"

James frowned. "We were living together. And even then, it took us years to figure it out. It's not like he just told us."

There was a wild look in Sirius' eyes and a desperate edge to his tone. "Come on, Prongs. Everyone knows the werewolves are taking You-Know-Who's side. And Remus is never at Order meetings anymore. What if he's—"

"Stop."

"What? We're all thinking it."

"No, we're not." But because there was no good way to explain—no good way to explain without saying too much—that Remus, werewolf or otherwise, was excellent at keeping secrets, James just sighed and said, "All right. I'll have to ask Lily, but I'm sure she won't mind. Wormtail it is."