CW: Death of family member
The Easter Holidays that year began on the day of a full moon, so I was forced to sit in a compartment all day and pretend to be fine while every inch of my body screamed in pain silently.
We were all anxious, of course. Our parents had told us not to come home for Christmas, and now we were all going to find out why. It had been such a long wait, and the fact that it was finally happening didn't seem real.
At one point during the day, I walked down the train and looked at some people in their compartments to see what they were all doing. A few people were praying, and many were using distractions such as chatting, sleeping, drinking, or smoking. I thought about how crowded the Potters' house would be with all these people, but then again, of course Fleamont and Euphemia would adopt any of them in a heartbeat.
I returned to the compartment that contained my three best friends, who all looked nervous. Peter, apparently, was scared to see his mother, and couldn't decide how to greet her after not seeing each other at all since their shared loss.
"It's ridiculous you couldn't go see her earlier," James said angrily. "What did Dumbledore say again?"
"He said because of the war they weren't letting students leave the school outside of the holidays," Peter said, crossing his arms. "A load of rubbish if you ask me… why do they have to keep the war so secretive from us anyway?"
"Because we're underage," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "They might think we'll try to do stupid things, get lost in our own plans…"
"I suppose we'll find out now," James sighed. "See who's dead and who's alive."
And we were silent for the rest of the trip.
The Potter's house was packed, as I predicted. With a large group of teenagers, you'd expect the overall noise level to be high, but at that moment, I would have been able to hear a pin drop.
Fleamont and Euphemia stood in front of us all, both looking tired, and they had a few cuts on their faces, yet they were alive, and that was all that mattered. They soon began to speak, and I made sure to hang on to every word.
"There have been various attacks… it wasn't safe anywhere in Britain apart from Hogwarts at Christmas… the Order of the Phoenix advised all parents to keep our children at Hogwarts over the break," Euphemia said. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Fleamont and I believe you all deserve the right to know that several of you are orphans and may be living permanently with other family members. We… we have some names, Fleamont, would you read them?"
There was murmuring as Fleamont adjusted his glasses and read off a piece of parchment. Most of the names I didn't recognise and several sobs were let out from students who heard the name of someone they knew. Peter's dad was mentioned as dead, and I winced when I heard my parents' names.
"Lyall and Hope Lupin… recovering from the cruciatus curse and their house being hit by a mass explosion…"
I let out a long breath of relief. My parents were alive. They were recovering. If it hadn't been a full moon, I would have kept it in, but it was, so I cried with happiness. I barely even stopped to think about the fact that my house had been blown up, and the fact that I was crying with happiness when so many others were crying from distress.
I looked around the room after Fleamont had finished, looking at the crowd. There were eleven-year-olds in this room, sobbing for a dead parent, sibling, cousin, aunt, uncle, grandparent, or friend. I was so lucky, and when I saw Marlene and Dorcas sitting with their heads together and arms around each other, sobbing, I felt even luckier.
Sirius, James, and I soon slipped away, James leading us to a shed in his backyard for me to spend the night in. I felt better than I'd ever felt before a full moon, and the next morning I was barely injured.
When I walked back into the Potter's house, most people had left, either back to Hogwarts or to any surviving family members. The only ones left apart from James and his parents were Sirius and I. Euphemia smiled at me as I walked into the kitchen, and my heart stopped. I didn't think James's parents knew what I was. Where did they think I was last night?
As if she could read my mind, Euphemia said, "Don't worry, Remus, we know you're a werewolf. Your parents told Fleamont and I when they were first admitted to St Mungo's. Asked us to look after you if they didn't make it, and just let us know. I think they will make it, though! Do you want to visit them today?"
"Yes please!" I gasped.
So, it was settled. After a quick breakfast, we got dressed and then apparated, landing in a small, empty shop, then walked out and towards a department store. Fleamont spoke to a dummy, then walked through the window, and we came out on the other side: St Mungo's.
I hadn't been there since I was four years old, to get treated for a werewolf bite. And that awful first night as a werewolf… Had that really been almost a decade ago? It felt as though it had been only yesterday.
We walked through the narrow corridor, and I felt squeamish in my stomach. I hadn't seen my parents since last August, and how was I to know what condition they'd be in? They could be half dead. I tried to think optimistically, but it was so hard. If you always predicted the worst outcome in life, you would never be disappointed.
Thankfully, my parents were not half dead. The others gave me some privacy when we came to the room, and I walked in cautiously. They were both sitting up in bed, and as soon as I saw them, I sprinted over to their beds and hugged them tightly, and almost cried again. Mum was actually crying as she ran her fingers through my hair.
"Oh my god," I breathed, finally pulling away, "I thought you'd… I didn't know…"
"It's alright… we're alright…" Dad said.
"You survived our house getting blown up!"
"Well… not all of us," Mum looked me in the eye, her hand on my cheek.
"Nana." I realised it quickly, and then I cried once again until there were no tears left to cry. Once I got myself together, I asked, "When will you be able to get out of St Mungo's, then?"
"Soon," said Dad, "we need to stay just a little longer to fix up some things…"
It must have been a soft spot because they didn't seem to want to talk about what had happened much. I could tell they were both quite traumatised from it, but instead of talking about it, they asked me how I was going, how last night's full moon went, how I was going in school, just the usual things as if nothing was wrong. If they wanted to act like that, then I would too. I stayed there for well over an hour until the Healer came in and told me to let them rest. Before I left, my parents promised me they'd be back by summer, and that everything would be fine.
I walked out of the room to find the Potters and Sirius sitting in the hall, all looking bored.
"Sorry for making you sit out here for so long," I said, feeling suddenly guilty.
"It's fine, Remus, dear!" Euphemia cried. "All well?"
"Yes." A heavy weight was off my shoulders. At least my parents were alive. Nana had been my only living grandparent, and now she'd died in the same way Pops had. Why was this war taking everyone away? Peter's dad, Pops, Nana… if I lost anyone else from it, I'd probably break.
We left St Mungo's and apparated back to Godric's Hollow in a blur, going back into James's house, and Sirius, James, and I went up to James's bedroom.
"When did everyone else leave?" I asked.
"They all left early this morning," James said. "Anyway, onto more important matters than this war… how am I going to get Evans to like me?"
"Be yourself," said Sirius, "stop trying to act 'cool'. Just be you. Don't you want her to like the real you?"
"What girl wouldn't like the real me?" James grinned.
"Maybe stop making fun of Snape. As much as he deserves it, Lily still likes him," I said.
"Why, though? What does she see in him? Even after he used that spell back in November!?" James cried.
"Yeah, about that spell…" said Sirius, "I have looked in every single book in the library, and I can't find it anywhere. He must have made it up."
"How?" James asked.
"I dunno, how does someone even make up a spell?" Sirius shrugged.
"I don't know, I thought all the spells were made back when the earth was made…" James said.
"Well, how was the earth made?" Sirius asked.
"It just appeared?"
"Wasn't there some theory… the big bang?" I asked.
"Oh, yeah, so the spells just appeared in the bang!" said Sirius.
"Who knows," I said, "maybe we should research it when we get back to Hogwarts."
"I've done enough research for a lifetime…" Sirius complained, laying down, "if only there was something where we could just type in what we wanted to know, and the answer would be right there…"
"Why don't we have something like that?" James asked, "We're wizards, for god's sake! We have magic!"
"Yes, but what would be the spell to make something like that?" Sirius asked.
"Which brings us back to our questioning of how spells are created…" I said.
"Well, if Snivellus can invent a spell, surely we can," James said. "But how!?"
We discussed for hours on end, but still had no conclusion as to how spells were made by the time James's parents called us out for dinner.
The Easter break ended exactly a week after Easter Sunday, and on the afternoon that we returned, Professor McGonagall spoke to me in her office privately.
"You may recall your friends telling you I was to accompany you during the full moons after the Easter break?"
I swallowed nervously and nodded. "Yes, Professor?"