1972
"Do you reckon he's dead?"
"No, you prat. Look, he's breathing. See how the blanket goes up and down?"
"…Well he looks a bit dead, doesn't he?"
"Peter has a point, Sirius. He does look…well, awfully terrible."
"Oi! We didn't come here to poke fun at Remus, we came to tell him."
Remus listened intently to his friends, feeling colder and paler than usual. They knew. It was the moment he had dreaded the most since coming to Hogwarts. He hadn't intended on making friends—but the feeling of belonging was addictive. Though he tried to send them the other way, Remus couldn't seem to actually succeed. It was too good to be true, he thought, that he would have friends. How could he give that up?
"Do you still think we ought to?" James asked. "He looks so…tired. I don't want to disturb him."
"He'll never tell us the truth otherwise," Sirius explained. "He'll give us some more nonsense about his mum or something, which we know is bollocks…he's the one who's sick."
Sick. Not a monster, not a Dark Creature, but sick. Remus felt a flutter in his stomach. Could his friends accept him, even after knowing what he was?
"It'll be easier," Sirius began softly, "Not having to lie to us. Poor bastard, imagine what he's been going through all this time."
"You're right, it ends now," James stated confidently. "And we're loads better at lying than he is, anyway. I'm sure he'll be glad for the help."
"Do you think he'll still help me with my charms paper?" Peter squeaked.
"Yes."
Remus fluttered his eyes open, managing to croak out a single word. He felt the gaze of his friends bearing down on him, even in the dimly lit ward. "Not today though…Likely tomorrow…" Remus said hoarsely, sitting up slowly as to not disturb his nearly-healed cuts and scrapes.
"Peter!" Sirius whisper-shouted. "You git, Remus has more important things to do than your bloody essay." Peter, chastised, fell silent, and it was James who took the lead.
"Are you alright, mate? You look bloody awful…"
"Nearly dead?"
James' eyes widened. So Remus had heard… "I'm sorry Remus, we hadn't thought…I mean, you looked…how long have you been awake."
"Long enough," Remus put simply. Long, drawn out answers were difficult. "You don't…have to," He said softly. Sirius cocked his head to the side.
"Don't have to what, mate?"
"Be my friends anymore," Remus whispered, feeling his eyes grow hot and heavy, hoping the tears wouldn't come. He wouldn't blame them; they were already far more civil than most would be in their shoes.
"Why would…what?" Sirius shook his head. "Because of—"
"A furry little problem?" Quipped James. "You've got to be thick to think we'd…Well, I can't even say it, it's that unbelievable."
"It's not," Remus protested weakly. "Most people—"
"And you think we're most people?" Sirius asked, incredulously. "Merlin's beard Remus, if we can be friends with a dullard like Peter—"
"Hey!"
"—Then being friends with a werewolf should be a walk in the park."
Remus expected a flinch. Werewolf. No one had said it up until now, but there was no denying what he was. "How…how long?"
"Months," said James. "We tried to get you to come out with it, kept asking you questions about your mum—"
"—and kept track of all your excuses; dragonpox twice in a row? We aren't daft, Remus—"
"But you were so guarded," James whispered. "And we realized that you'd never tell us, and that all we were doing was pestering, so we had to come and talk to you somewhere you couldn't deny it," James finished, looking at Remus kindly. "We just want to help."
Help? Remus couldn't believe it. Not only did they want to be his friend…they wanted to help?
"Help," Sirius stated matter-of-factly, as if he knew what Remus was thinking. "We'll do anything. We've been going to the library non-stop, trying to read up on ways we could help, but there isn't much literature out there on how to do so—"
"You…read?" Remus sputtered out, then his eyes widened. He hadn't meant for it to sound so harsh. He was in shock, still trying to figure out how he was lucky enough to still be in his bed, much less have friends who wanted to help, and he felt like he had blown it. But James chortled, Peter snickered, and even Sirius smiled.
"It's not that hard to believe…but yes, we read for you, which is not something I'd like to make a habit of," Sirius said pointedly. "We're not going anywhere, you know," He started, sensing Remus tense up. "You've got the cleverest little quips, if you stop making fun then James' head will grow too large—"
"Hey!" James retorted.
"—And Merlin knows what we'd do with him then. We're still your best mates, nothing is going to change." Sirius smiled softly. "No more secrets."
Remus nodded slowly. "No more secrets…" He whispered, chapped lips forming into a small smile. "You must have questions?" Remus asked, voice cracking.
"Oh, loads," James confirmed. "But you sound dreadful, it's nearly three in the morning, and Pete looks about ready to fall asleep so I think we best get going." Peter nodded in affirmation.
"So we'll get around to that when you're a bit less peaky," Sirius added.
Remus would've chuckled if he didn't think it would lead to a fit of coughing. Peaky was one way of looking at it. "Thank you," He said softly, gazing at his friends. "Thank you for everything."
"We're your friends, Remus," James stressed, "It's nothing. Rest. You need it," He pointed out truthfully. The three boys disappeared under James' invisibility cloak, and Remus watched as the door to the ward seemingly opened and shut by magic. It isn't nothing, the boy had wanted to say. It's everything.