'His gaze touched me before his hands touched me.'

Louise Glück

Gemma walks backwards ahead of her, urging Darcy to turn around. "This is a terrible idea, Darcy," she says quickly. "Just go back to your common room and I—I'll get us some drinks and we'll talk about this and we'll laugh about it—"

"I won't be able to laugh about this."

"Oh, come on, my little lion," Gemma protests kindly, taking Darcy's hand in her own. Darcy jerks her hand away. "You've always been quick to anger, but maybe this time you need to cool off first."

"Darcy, you can't just barge in on him like this," Carla adds, grabbing at Darcy's arm, but Darcy pulls her arm away. "You just had a lot of information thrown at you and how do you even know they're telling the truth? Maybe you should just sleep on it and tomorrow you could ask Hagrid or Professor McGonagall what—"

Darcy scrunches her nose, frustrated by the level headedness of her friends. "No, no—did you hear what they said?"

"Darcy," Emily sighs, frustrated. "I know how you must be feeling right now, but this is no way to deal with it—we all need to talk about this first—we're a team, remember? We all love you and we all want you to be okay and—"

"Emily—" Darcy interrupts, pushing past her friends as they make their way back up to Hogwarts. "I'm sorry, but you have no idea how I'm feeling right now. You have no idea what this is like. To know that I've been dreaming about the man responsible for killing my parents—and to think that I thought I loved him—"

"If you're going to be mad at someone, then you should be mad at Hagrid," Emily says shortly, attempting to wrangle Darcy before she can make it up to Hogwarts. Darcy wriggles out of her grip, lengthening her strides. "Hagrid had plenty of opportunities to tell you—seven years you've known him!"

Darcy looks over her shoulder at Emily, incredulous. "Don't you try and turn me against Hagrid—"

"I'm not trying to turn you against anyone," Emily snaps. "I'm just saying that maybe you're frustrated with the wrong person—I mean, you've only known Lupin for barely four months—why would he have told you all of that? Why do you think you have an automatic right to that knowledge?"

"Emily's right," Carla cautions, though her tone is much softer and gentler. "You can't blame him for not telling you."

That gives her pause. Darcy stops in the middle of the road, and Gemma touches Darcy's face with gentle hands. She wipes Darcy wet face with her scarf and brushes the hair out of her face. Gemma's eyes are wide with worry and sorrow, but there's a smile playing on her lips, the usual mischievous smirk that never quite leaves her face. Darcy looks past Gemma at Emily, watching on. Has it really only been four months? Four long, grueling months that have tested her limits. But four months sounds wrong—four months seems far too short. Surely she's known Lupin longer than that. To her, it's as if she's known him all her life, or at least longer than four months. Is it unfair to expect such things from him? When Darcy had confided in him her nightmare, wasn't that a perfect opportunity for Lupin to tell her the truth? All she knows is that rage is consuming and blinding her, and she needs to take it out on someone, but Hagrid isn't that person. She knows that if she were to storm up to Hagrid's door, she'd crumble at the sight of him.

Darcy looks into Gemma's eyes, a deep, rich brown. Wide eyes, always curious, always much softer than expected. Her thumbs brush against her cheeks. "Darcy," Gemma starts again, sounding more patient this time. "He cares about you, and you know that. And you know that he wouldn't want to see you like this and that's likely why he didn't tell you—"

She knows Gemma means well, but she pulls away all the same, and Darcy starts trudging through the snow again, though she slows her pace down this time and there's some hesitation behind her steps. Maybe Gemma's right, she thinks. Maybe I'm being childish having expected him to share such things with me. Still, she's much too prideful to turn around with all of her friends watching, so she continues up through the doors of Hogwarts, down the never ending corridors to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Her friends protest the entire way, growing more angry and much more forceful the closer they get to Lupin's classroom.

"Darcy, you need to think this through," Emily says, seriously angry now. Her face is stony and less beautiful than usual, and Darcy has a bad feeling about it all. "You aren't going to get anywhere or anything out of anyone by acting like a psychopath—"

"A psychopath?" Darcy whirls on her heels to face Emily. Gemma and Carla take a step back, but Emily stands her ground. She crosses her arms, her face set, as Darcy fumes. A vein throbs in her forehead and her entire face turns bright red. "Can you just imagine, for one second, being in my shoes? Can you imagine your parents being murdered by Voldemort?" Carla jumps at the sound of his name, but Emily and Gemma don't flinch. "Can you imagine, being me, sitting in that damn pub and hearing everything that I just heard? Can you imagine Sirius Black being your godfather? Imagine that you've been dreaming of someone you love, only to find out it's Sirius Black—a man out to kill Harry—"

"Don't act like I don't know what you've been through," Emily spits. "You only shove it down my throat every time something—"

Carla reddens. "Emily! How could you say that? Darcy is our friend—"

"Shove it down your throat?" Darcy repeats, laughing outloud, a bitter laughter, and ignoring Carla completely. She takes a step closer to Emily. "How can you be so insensitive? I'm so, terribly sorry that my traumatic childhood has burdened you—you, who's lucky enough to have both of her parents, who is lucky enough to have been raised with everything served to you on a silver goddamn platter!"

"That's enough! Both of you!" Gemma bellows, stepping between Darcy and Emily as they move quickly at each other. Emily composes herself, sighing heavily and brushing her hair behind her shoulders. "Darcy, if you have something to say to Lupin, then I'm right behind you, but let's do it now before it gets too late."

Darcy smiles weakly at Gemma, feeling a rush of affection for her friend, glad that someone's on her side. She nods and opens the door of the classroom, storming up to Lupin's office with her three friends on her heels. Emily walks slower than the rest, but comes with them regardless. Darcy hesitates when she puts her hand on the doorknob, but opens it quickly once discovering it's unlocked, but Lupin is nowhere to be found. The office is deserted and dead quiet, a few papers scattered on the desk waiting to be graded. Gemma peers at them casually. Carla seems relieved, however, to have found an empty office and she holds up her hands. "Looks like he's not here," she laughs awkwardly. "I guess we'll just have to go back now…"

But Darcy doesn't give up. She knows where he is, and she bangs on the wall in the area where the secret door to his apartment is. "Open the door!" she shouts, banging on the wall until the skin on her palm breaks against the rough stone wall. Her chest is heaving, suddenly nervous about meeting him face to face, armed with this brand new information. "Open the door!" Darcy shouts again, and in a matter of seconds the door is opened and Lupin is staring down at her, completely bewildered.

"Ladies—what have I done to warrant a house call? Why aren't you down in Hogsmeade?" he asks with a small, uncomfortable laugh, but no one laughs with him. Then he takes a longer look at Darcy and tenses. "What's wrong?"

Darcy wills herself not to cry, but she can feel the tears building in her eyes. "You!" She takes a step into the apartment, and Lupin takes a hasty step back from her, seeing the anger flash in her eyes. She keeps walking towards him until he backs into a wall, and then she points her finger at him, prodding his chest hard. Lupin scoffs, stammering. Darcy's friends shuffle forward, watching from the threshold, silent and still and wide eyed. "You knew this whole time and you didn't say anything!"

"I knew—what?" Lupin asks, raising an eyebrow, his voice slightly higher than normal. "What are you talking about, Darcy? Just tell me what's going on—calm down. Ladies—could one of you please explain—"

"You knew about Sirius Black!" she yells, prodding his chest again with her index finger. "You knew that he was my godfather! You knew that he betrayed my parents!"

Lupin's face falls and he looks at Darcy with such a soft and understanding expression it almost breaks her heart. She starts to cry in earnest, but she's ashamed of it and she blushes. "Oh, Darcy," he whispers, sighing, "you have to believe me, I—"

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asks, her voice breaking. "Don't you owe me that much? You kept it a secret and you should have told me! I told you everything, I told you things I've—" She growls, unable to form a coherent sentence, and slams a fist into his chest as Emily and Carla gasp behind her.

Lupin grunts, looking more surprised than anything that she's actually hit him, and he puts a hand on his chest. Darcy feels bad, but it feels good to hit him, just once. "Ouch—! Darcy—hey!"

"Darcy!" Carla squeaks, but Gemma's grip around her skinny arm keeps her from intervening. "Stop! You shouldn't—"

But Darcy ignores Carla completely. Lupin catches her wrist deftly as she curls her hand into a fist again, holding it tight as she tries to hit him with her other hand. He catches that one, too. "Please, stop—I can explain—just stop—hitting me, Darcy—"

"Explain what?" she retorts, breaking free of his grasp and stumbling backwards. Darcy clutches at her wrists where his fingers have left her skin warm. Lupin stays up against the wall, shaking his head. "Explain how you're working with him? You helped him into the castle, I know—"

"No, I didn't, that's ridiculous. You have to—"

Darcy sobs into her hands, pushing her hair back out of her face. Her eyes are red and puffy and her cheeks blotchy. Lupin stands up straight, brushing himself off and fixing his hair, combing his fingers through it. When she moves towards him again, slightly more composed, Lupin reacts instinctively, grabbing her by the arms and holding her still. "Let go of me," she hisses. "Don't touch me—"

"Then stop—" Lupin stops mid sentence and groans, looking at Emily, Carla, and Gemma, who are still standing in the threshold, and he lowers his hands. Darcy looks over her shoulder at them and notice their disbelieving and awestruck stares, all huddled together watching the two of them argue. "Ladies, could you give us a minute?"

"No!" Darcy snaps, turning to face her friends. "I will not be left alone with you—you want me dead, don't you? You lied to me—"

"Ladies!" Lupin snarls at them, and they all jump and begin to scatter. "Give us a minute!" Darcy's friends hurry out of his chambers, slamming the door shut behind them. When Darcy and Lupin are alone, Darcy takes a few steps backwards, panting. "What is going on?"

"I heard everything," she says through tears. "At Hogsmeade, I heard them talking about it—"

"Heard who?" Lupin asks, moving closer to her again. She flinches when he touches her arms, but she allows him to lead her to the couch. They sit down together, as they have so many nights before, but this time Lupin sits closer to her than he ever has, but Darcy isn't flustered. Instead, she moves away from him, putting as much distance between them as possible. He doesn't move any closer, or even seem to notice her desire to be far away from him. "Who told you all of this?"

She falters, her quickening heart rate making her lightheaded. "They didn't tell me, I just—I overheard them," she admits, swallowing the lump in her throat, feeling foolish. "It was Hagrid, and Professor Flitwick and McGonagall, and Fudge was there—the Minister —he was the one who was telling the story and he said— he said—"

Darcy relays to him a brief version of the story that Fudge had told, complete with Hagrid's version of events. Lupin listens closely, his face drained of all color, looking unnerved. Several times he looks off into the distance, closing his eyes and sighing heavily. When Darcy finishes, he's quiet for a long time, and Darcy becomes frightened again, standing up from the couch and backing away from him. "I'm sorry you had to find out like this. I can explain why I never told you, Darcy," he says again, standing up and moving towards her, his hands out as if to catch her from falling. "I need you to listen to me."

"You helped him into the castle on Halloween, didn't you?"

"No I—"

"You knew he was my godfather—"

"Yes, but—"

"You knew he betrayed my parents—"

Lupin holds his hands out in front of him, opening and closing them, visibly frustrated. He clenches his jaw, and he raises his voice slightly. "Darcy, I—"

"Why wouldn't you tell me?"

"Darcy, listen, please, sit down," he begs, putting his hands on her shoulders, keeping her grounded. His thumb fingers the scars on her shoulder through her shirt. Lupin pauses, taking a moment to think, looking down at her and lowering his hands. Darcy sits, and Lupin sits with her. "Yes, I know that Sirius Black is your godfather, and I know Sirius Black was your parents Secret Keeper, but I—" He stops and shifts uncomfortably on the couch, clearly upset, running his hands through his hair again. "I couldn't tell you—you have so much on your plate, Darcy, and I couldn't add to it."

"No," she whispers. "I don't believe you."

Lupin looks defeated. "Darcy," he breathes. "I am sorry that I didn't tell you, but I promise it was only because I didn't want to frighten you—I didn't want to add to your growing list of worries—"

"How did he get into Hogwarts?" she hisses, wiping the tears from her face. "How did he get past the dementors? You showed him a way, didn't you?"

"No, I didn't."

Darcy wants to believe him, so badly. She wants to believe that he only wanted to protect her, to keep her from hurting, but she can't. She shakes her head and looks away from him. "Tell me the truth," she whispers. "You're helping him. Why haven't you done it already? Why haven't you killed me? Why haven't you killed Harry?"

"That's—Darcy, you're being ridiculous," he scoffs. "I wouldn't hurt either one of you and you know that. I thought you'd given up believing I was out to kill you. Did we not establish this already?"

Darcy inhales deeply. "No, I'm not being ridiculous," she says. "Why should I believe anything you say? I knew there had to be a catch—I knew that we couldn't just have a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher that—"

"I'm not helping Sirius Black!" he suddenly shouts, shutting Darcy up immediately. She stares at him with large eyes, her lips tight. She moves away from him to the corner of the sofa. Lupin seems to have realized his mistake too late, lowering his voice again when she speaks."Come on, I—I care about—I would never— Darcy, you have to believe me, I am not helping Sirius Black and I do not want to hurt you. I would never—"

"Hurt me?" she finishes for him, laughing dryly. "But you already have—"

"And I've told you, I am so sorry," he says, jumping to his feet and grabbing fistfuls of his hair, pacing in front of her. "I told you I would have done anything to make it up to you—that was an accident, and—" Lupin murmurs, looking at her shoulder, breathing heavily. "What can I do to make you believe me? I want you safe, Darcy, and I wouldn't lie to you."

"I don't know what to say," she replies quietly, frowning. The sight of him pacing restlessly before her makes her uneasy and slightly guilty. "What am I supposed to—"

Lupin shushes her before she can finish, and after a long and heavy silence, he reaches out for her again. He keeps a shaky hand on her shoulder, and Darcy doesn't shake him off this time. "Just—stop talking, Darcy, please," he pleads, exasperated. "Just let me talk."

Darcy quiets, and listens carefully. His hand slips from her shoulder and she hates herself for wishing he'd continue to touch her.

He seems to have trouble explaining himself, but once he gathers his thoughts, they all spill out of him at once and he stumbles over his words and stutters and pauses, but she gives him the chance to say everything. Darcy almost finds it endearing, the struggle he endures while attempting to explain everything, considering that during class, he's eloquent and well-spoken and not at all the fumbling mess he is now. "I struggled for a long time after your parents died, Darcy," he says. "They deserved life so much more than I did—they had you, and Harry, and I had nothing. I had no home, no job, no one to come home to, no one to love me. I would have died for them—you have to believe me." Lupin's eyes scan her face, but she does not look away from him. "I would never wish harm upon you or Harry. I care about you, Darcy. You've shown me a kindness than not many people have before, despite knowing what I am, and I cannot tell you enough how grateful I am to have been a teacher while you and Harry are here at Hogwarts."

His soft voice soothes her and Darcy knows that he's telling the truth—he must be. She knows that there are no lies behind his words—secrets, things kept to himself, maybe—but he is not lying to her. His eyes are honest eyes, and she watches as those honest eyes quickly glance at her lips for a split second. So quickly that Darcy isn't sure it really happened at all. "I'm sorry—I'm so sorry," she rasps, inching closer to him, but Lupin doesn't seem to notice—or he notices it and ignores it. "It's Sirius Black in my nightmare. He saves me from the house. He holds me. I remember it."

Lupin swallows, thinking hard on his words for a moment. "It's just a dream," he replies, suddenly breathless. "Nothing more."

Darcy tries to force herself not to look at his lips, but it's for nothing. She glances down and realizes then how close they are, how easy it would be to kiss him right now. But the thought of his reaction frightens her—she isn't sure if he'll tell her to leave, if he'll still want her to have dinner with her. What if he tells Professor Dumbledore? she thinks with a churning in her stomach. She blushes furiously when she looks back into his eyes. He raises a hand to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ears—a mechanical movement, almost—and Darcy stays completely still as he moves closer. She closes her eyes, waiting for him to kiss her, hoping he'll close the gap between them, silently pleading him to just do it.

She opens her eyes as Lupin pulls away suddenly, forcing his hand away from her and jumping to his feet. "I'm sorry," he breathes, causing her face to turn scarlet. "I'm so sorry—you should go, Darcy—now."

She doesn't argue or protest—just knowing how close he was to her makes her feel dizzy and all she wants is to leave and sort everything out. Lupin holds out his hand for her and she takes it. He pulls her off the couch and looks her over, wiping the single tear on her face off with his thumb. Lupin walks her to the door and opens it, and Darcy is surprised to see her friends still waiting in the office. Gemma is seated on Lupin's desk, swinging her legs off the side, but she jumps down when the door opens. Emily is pacing, hands deep in her pockets, and Carla is sitting in Lupin's chair, feet resting on the desk and leaning back on two legs.

Lupin doesn't say anything, but nods to them all in acknowledgement and looks to the ground, retreating back inside his chambers. Darcy stands still for a minute, trying to process everything that's just happened, looking at Emily.

"What happened?" Gemma asks, leaning against the desk. "Is everything all right?"

Emily frowns, looking back at Darcy. "I'm sorry for what I said," she utters. "It was wrong of me."

Darcy shrugs, Emily's hurtful words almost forgotten after what just happened inside of Lupin's apartment. "It's okay." She inhales deeply, holding up her trembling hand. Darcy holds her hands together, but her entire body is shaking. "I… think I'm ready to go back to the common room now."

Emily, Gemma, and Carla exchange worried looks as Darcy walks herself out of Lupin's office slowly, as if in a trance. Gemma scoffs, in a hushed voice asking her friends, "What just happened in there?"