Moon Fishing.
Chapter Eight: First.
Remus adjusted to the ebb ad flow of the ancient school quickly, he followed the currents of his friendships lazily and was delighted at how well they all clicked into a cohesive group. Each had strong points and weaknesses, all complimented each other and beneath it all ran a shared yet undeniably warped and wicked sense of humour. His friends filled him with happiness and light, his studies filled him with a fire and thirst, and these things all filled his letters home to his parents.
Remus missed the quiet hum of the Lupin's cottage, the dusty dryness that hung on the air because of all the books about the place. He missed Sunday mornings in the kitchen, and Saturday afternoons filled with models and wood glue and paint. Most of the time the newness and the fun of Hogwarts kept his mind occupied and the homesickness at bay but sometimes even Remus had to admit to himself that he missed home. The best thing to do in these situations was to sit in the library, the closest thing the school had to home. Books had always brought him comfort and that had not changed, and would never change.
The first full moon had been an interesting time for Remus. Having to lie to his new friends went against everything he knew, but Hogwarts worth it he thought. Besides, he reasoned, if they knew he didn't think he could count them as friends for another minute afterwards. So with a heavy heart he followed Madam Pomfrey down to the newly planted Whomping Willow, waited patiently for her to lock him inside a small, musty, dingy room, and stripped in readiness for the bone-cracking pain of his monthly torment. He spent the night as a blindly furious animal, ripping at himself because he could not get to anyone else, snarling and spitting like the beast that attacked him years ago. In the morning he lay human, broken and bleeding waiting silently in pain for the nurse to come for him. He never complained or cried anymore. It hadn't helped to make stupid noises, the pain didn't lessen no matter how hysterical he got, so now he saved that energy for healing later.
At first Madam Pomfrey was concerned by this part of Remus' behaviour until she got to know him and realised he was stronger than anyone she had ever met. She and Remus gradually developed a freindship based on mutual respect and admiration, and during his days in the hospital wing healing they talked freely on all manner of subjects from literature to the latest school gossip. They both agreed that Shakespeares Tragedies were far superior to any of his comedies, neither of them could fully grasp exactly what a battery was and how it worked but both desperately wanted to know, and they disagreed vehemently when it came to Quidditch teams they supported. She loved the intelligent caring boy she saw once a month and often felt very conflicted because she was glad she saw so much of him, yet sad to see him in so much pain. Remus thought she brightened what was a horrible monthly ritual.
His classmates had gotten more than a little suspicious about what was going on after Remus came back from 'visiting a sick aunt' covered in scratches and bruises. They had tried to ask Remus about it, but none of them pushed it when he refused to talk about it lest he try one of those wonderful hexes on them. Instead they busied themselves every time he went away and put their heads together while he was gone trying to find out why he went, and how to stop him from getting hurt. None of them could quite remember exactly who had discovered the truth first six months into the first year but they all agreed on one thing- It changed nothing. They would be damned if they would drop as great a bloke as Remus because he had a furry little problem. No they knew his friendship was too important and told him so.
Remus was recuperating in the hospital wing. One side of his head bandaged in an impossibly comical way and his left leg set in a splint awaiting the skele-grow to take effect. Remus was leafing through a book quietly when his friends arrived with grapes they had nicked from the kitchens. They knew full-well that Remus hated grapes, but brought them anyway 'out of principle'as they insisted when he confronted them. The grapes were flung onto the low table in front of Remus. The wet thud made him look up from his book and smile. James waved and smiled and pulled up one of the two chairs next to the bed, Pete sat down beside him. Sirius perched himself on the bed at Remus' knees and began picking at an invisible something on the covers. When he spoke his voice was quiet and even.
"How was the transformation last night, Rem?" His eyes raised calmly to meet Remus'. The room was still as they stared at each other, Sirius' silver eyes meeting Remus' golden ones. Remus' eyes broke the contact after a while to glance at Peter and James, who sat still and expectantly awaiting his reply. When Remus' shoulders sagged a little Sirius spoke again.
"Why didn't you tell us you daft git? We thought your Dad was using you as a punching bag. Did you think we would squeal like girls and run away from the big bad wolf?" When Remus' eyes flickered at this to meet Sirius' for a second the dark haired boy shook his head, "Bloody hell, mate! First of all, we don't squeal... Well, James might, but we don't, do we Pete? second of all it's not like you had much of a choice to be a werewolf did you? You didn't ask for it, so it would be stupid of us to hold it against you... You're one of us. No way you're getting out of our gang that easily."
"Yeah, mate. You're stuck with us."grinned Peter.
"No more secrets from any of us, okay?" said James.
Remus nodded mutely and stared at each of his friends in turn. He couldn't bring himself to say anything. They knew... and they didn't hate him. Relief washed over him in waves, so much relief that some of it formed tears and they rolled down his cheeks as he laughed at his fortune to meet such wonderful people on the train.
Remus didn't know that Madam Pomfrey had seen the whole exchange, tears running down her face too at how lovely Remus' friends were, nor did he know that his friends had also decided that something must be done, that plans were being formulated and that laws were going to be broken because they loved him. Had he known that he probably would have cried some more and almost certainly have literally become a girl.