A/N: First, a thanks to last week's reviewers: Agnes Werneck, Silver Scorpion, Cassie Weasley, narglefied, JustinneXD, nessa1998, tez-chan, Evisawesome, VaneBEAR, Book-Mania-Girl520, and SecretBlack!
Okay, so I never really know what to say in these things—not that any of you probably care, since it's the story you're really reading for, obviously. Still, I feel obligated to say something . . . oooh, I know—have you ever looked up weird holidays? Maybe I'll start that. For instance, September 30 boasts National Mud Pack Day, National Chewing Gum Day, and September is National Blueberry Popsicle Month!
Right. Totally random. Sorry. Onto our regularly scheduled program . . .
Chapter 7: Come Around
A ringing silence followed my words, and I suddenly had the strange urge to laugh, though I quickly forced it away.
Remus continued to stare at me with the same apprehensive expression on his face. Slowly, he bobbed his head up and down once.
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Honestly, I had no idea what to say. My mind was reeling with the revelation that the person before me turned into a full-fledged monster once a month. I shivered instinctively, and Remus flinched as though I'd raised a hand to strike him.
"If you want me to go—" he started, and the bitterness in his voice brought me to my senses.
This is Remus we're talking about. He's still the same person. "No, don't be ridiculous," I told him firmly.
This seemed to take him by surprise, and he stood in silence once more. I couldn't help but notice that he stayed absolutely still, as though afraid that one small move might set me running and screaming in the opposite direction. The thought almost made me wince again, but I caught myself just in time. "Just . . . give me a second, okay?" I asked.
Remus nodded shortly again.
I took a deep breath, slowly letting it out as I processed the my-friend-is-a-werewolf thing. Mostly, I felt foolish, for never having realized it before. I mean, I'd patrolled with him for an entire year, during which I'd thought we were friends, but friends don't completely miss something this big about each other. Although, he never did say much, always turning the conversation back to me . . . and then a horrible thought struck me. Oh my God, how shallow must he find me? I always complained about my life as though I actually had problems, and here he was . . . But it was no use worrying about those things now—what was done was done, and it was time to move on. So, "Okay, well, shall we finish rounds?" I hoped my voice came out sounding normal, but something must have been off, because Remus gave me a look that was half-shocked, half-angry.
"You're—you don't—what are you—" he said in an agitated voice, seemingly unable to form a coherent sentence, and I wondered what I'd said to upset him.
"Sorry, did I say—" I started hesitantly.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Remus exploded suddenly, and I was so shocked at his outburst—I couldn't remember ever hearing him curse—that I actually took a step back. "Yeah, that's more like it," Remus said, nodding and laughing shortly.
I wondered briefly if he'd gone mad. "Er . . ." I stopped, unsure how to respond.
"You're not supposed to just need a few seconds to "think it over" and then be totally fine with it! I'm a—you aren't—"
I was starting to feel a little bit perturbed. What kind of person did he think I was? "Oh, excuse me," I said sarcastically. "Would you rather I run screaming down the hallway and never come within a five foot radius of you again? It'd make rounds rather difficult, but I suppose I—"
"No," Remus said, his voice abruptly quiet once more. In fact, he sounded a little sheepish, and I wondered if he regretted his outburst. "It's just . . . that's how most people react," he mumbled.
I raised my eyebrows, crossing my arms over my chest. "And do I look like 'most people' to you? Frankly, Remus, I'm offended that you thought I'd do that to you."
"Yeah, well, generally most people are at least a little upset to discover their friend is a monster," he said, and the self-loathing in his voice made me want to hug him. But that probably wasn't the best option at the moment, at least not until he'd calmed down and stopped acting like an idiot.
"You're not a—come here," I said, grabbing his arm. He stiffened at my touch, and I gritted my teeth together to keep from yelling at him again. Dragging him to the window, I thrust a finger at the distant moon. "Look. Not full. Therefore, you're just . . . you. I mean, I'll admit, I would be a little worried if it was a full moon and I was standing this close to you. I'm not stupid." I winced a little, feeling that came out a bit more insensitive than I meant it to.
But to my relief, Remus smiled slightly. "I never thought you were."
"So . . . back to rounds?" I tried again.
Remus nodded, and we started walking again.
I shot him a sideways glance. "Honestly, Remus, I thought we'd decided that Potter and Black are the idiots."
His smile was wider this time. "Sorry, I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. It's just, well, like I said—"
"You don't exactly have many reasons not to expect that kind of reaction," I finished for him, nodding. "Which is just stupid and ignorant of . . . well, whoever gave you those reasons, but—wait, how did your friends react when you told them? They obviously didn't desert you."
"I didn't. Tell them, that is," he said. "Of course, they figured it out on their own quickly enough." I cringed a little, feeling like even more of a dolt. "But no, you're right, they didn't desert me. In fact, they—" he stopped suddenly, and I waited for him to continue, but he didn't. Deciding I'd processed enough unexpected information for one night, I let it slide.
"Well, I feel like a prize idiot taking this long to figure it out. And I can't believe you let me blather on about my supposed life issues when you—" I started, unable to keep my earlier fear to myself.
"Stop," Remus commanded firmly. "Please, it just makes it worse when you apologize. And it doesn't make your problems any less important. Seriously," he added when I looked at him doubtfully. "Everyone has issues, and you shouldn't feel guilty for . . . can we just call it even?" he said, a pleading note in his voice.
"Okay," I said, though I still felt bad. "So, how does it . . . work? If you don't mind my asking, that is."
"I don't, but I'm not sure I entirely understand your question."
"What I mean is, where do you go when you, you know, have to . . . go?" I felt a little embarrassed about my halting phrasing, but I didn't really know how to talk about this without offending him.
Remus smiled slightly. "You know the Whomping Willow?"
I nodded—the tree had nearly taken my head off in first year when my scarf had blown into its territory and I'd dived to retrieve it. As the traumatic encounter was all but engraved in my memory, I wasn't likely to forget the plant in a hurry.
"Well, Dumbledore actually had that planted for me."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"It sits directly over an underground passage to the Shrieking Shack," he explained matter-of-factly, as though this information was of no more consequence than the fact that the sky was blue. "There's a knot you can push to freeze the branches momentarily, so each month I go down there, freeze the tree, and take the passageway to the Shack. I transform down there, and—"
"The villagers think it's haunted, so there's no risk of anyone finding you," I said, catching on.
Remus nodded. "Exactly. And the Willow—theoretically—prevents students from coming across me when I'm transformed."
"Theoretically?" I repeated, not missing the hidden implications. "So, does that mean—"
"No human has seen me as a werewolf," Remus assured me. There was something in the way he phrased it that made me feel like I was missing something, but again, I decided not to question him further.
"So, the only people who know are your friends and now me?"
"And Dumbledore and the teachers, but yes, as far as I know, that's it."
"That's a big secret to keep," I commented, slightly impressed in spite of myself that he'd been able to conceal it from so many people.
Remus nodded grimly. "It is difficult sometimes, especially when Prongs and Padfoot—well, let's just say they're not always as cautious about it as I'd like them to be."
I smiled a little—that didn't surprise me in the slightest. But hearing Remus use his friends' nicknames jogged something else in my memory. "Moony," I said suddenly with new clarity.
"Mhm?" Remus said, sounding slightly surprised, but not offended, that I'd addressed him by his nickname.
I blushed. "No, I wasn't—I just realized what that meant," I finished. "Wow, I am brilliant, aren't I?" I added, reddening further and wondering how I'd missed such an obvious clue.
"Well, just take comfort in the fact that you're far from the only one who hasn't caught on to that," Remus said with a wink.
"Thanks," I said sarcastically.
We walked along in silence for a bit more, and then Remus said suddenly, "Lily, I'm glad we're friends." He winced. "Merlin, that sounds cheesy, but you know what I—"
"I'm glad we're friends too," I said, smiling.
OOOOOOOO
"What kind of a friend are you?"
Mary's head whipped up in surprise as I flung myself into a chair across from her in the library. It had taken me nearly half an hour to locate my friend, which had only heightened my irritation.
"So, rounds went well, did they?" she asked sardonically, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, don't sit there and act all innocent," I scoffed, knowing I was being more than slightly unfair. "You knew!"
"'Fraid you'll have to be more specific than that, Lil," Mary said mildly, appearing to tolerate my inexplicable rage. For the moment, at least.
"About Remus! And that he's a—" I looked around to ensure there were no nosy onlookers and lowered my voice to the barest of whispers, "werewolf." Even though Remus hadn't said as much, I knew there was no other explanation for why Mary had seemed so flustered when I'd asked her about Remus's sick mother.
Mary's expression changed from confused and slightly exasperated to somber. "Yes. I knew," she admitted, with no hesitation.
"So why didn't you tell me! You always tell me everything."
"This was hardly a piece of idle gossip, Lily," Mary hissed. "I assume he told you not to tell anyone?"
Thinking back to our recent conversation, Remus had never actually said anything to me along these lines; I'd simply never considered doing otherwise.
Mary didn't wait for me to answer, but went on, "It's not something he wants to spread to just anyone, for reasons I'm sure you can grasp."
"But I'm not 'just anyone', I'm your best mate!"
"It wasn't my secret to tell! Really, Lily, I thought you were more sensitive than that."
I sighed. "No, you're right. I'm sorry, I just—I feel stupid for not figuring it out earlier, and I'm taking my frustration out on you. Sorry," I repeated.
Mary smiled grimly at me. "It's fine. And you're not stupid—Remus is just really good at hiding the truth."
"That's for damn sure," I muttered sullenly. After a few beats of silence, I added, "I still don't think it's quite sunk in, that he's—hang on, how did you find out?"
Mary suddenly looked uncomfortable. "It's . . . complicated," she said finally. "I overheard him, James, Sirius, and Peter talking one night in their dormitory—"
"What were you doing in their dormitory?" I interrupted sharply.
"Looking for James," she mumbled shamefacedly.
"Wait, when was this?"
"In fourth year, when you and I—"
"You've know about this since fourth year?" I cried incredulously, earning myself a few angry glares from those studying around us. Lowering my voice to a more acceptable level, I added, "Merlin, Mary, how did you possibly stay silent about that for so long?"
"It wasn't easy," she muttered. "Every time you brought up Remus being absent from rounds, or how he looks ill so often, or his mother . . ."
I nodded appreciatively. We fell silent again, and my mind wandered to vicious trees, and secret passageways, and painful transformations . . . shuddering involuntarily, I said, "I can't imagine having to go through that every month."
"Well, it's not so bad anymore, with—" she stopped abruptly, her blues eyes widening slightly in horror. "How much did he tell you?" she asked quickly.
"About what?" I asked apprehensively, wondering briefly if this was in any way related to what Remus had almost let slip as well.
"About them—what they—shit, he didn't tell you any of that, did he?" she demanded, noting my slowly deepening confusion.
"What do you mean, 'them'? This somehow involves Potter and the rest too?"
"No," Mary said quickly. "Pretend you didn't hear that. I'm—"
"Let me guess," I interrupted dryly. "You're not allowed to tell me?"
Mary shook her head. "I'm sorry, Lily," she said, sounding as though she truly meant it.
"That's all right," I sighed. "I don't think I really want to know, anyway."
OOOOOOOO
If I'd thought that any issues surrounding my newly acquired knowledge about Remus were solely between him and me, I was sorely mistaken. As Mary and I were heading back to Gryffindor Tower later that evening, Potter practically came sprinting towards us from the opposite direction, stuffing a wrinkled piece of parchment in his pocket and looking positively frantic.
"Evans," he said, skidding to a halt in front of us, "I need to talk to you." He didn't acknowledge Mary at all.
She raised her eyebrows. "See you back in the common room, Lily."
As she walked away, I arched a brow at Potter. "Yes?"
"You can't tell anyone," he blurted out.
"What are you talking about, Potter?"
"You can't tell anyone!" he repeated more urgently, as though this would clear up the matter.
"So I've heard," I said dryly. "I can't read minds, Potter, so you're going to have to be more—"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Potter cut in shortly.
I felt my temper rise at his unnecessary anger. "Actually, I don't—I'm not just messing with you for the hell of it, though, being you, I could understand why you might think someone would do that—"
"Fine, Evans, let me spell it out for you," Potter said derisively.
"Good idea," I said sarcastically.
He took a deep breath, and as he let it out, he said in a rush, "You know about Remus."
Instead of satisfying me, his explanation only angered me further. "Is that what this is about? You're afraid I'm going to, what, put up a notice on the announcements board? Honestly, Potter, do you really think so little of me?"
Disregarding my question, Potter pressed on, "I'm serious, Evans, if you—"
"So am I! I swear to God, Potter, I won't tell anyone. I wasn't planning on telling anyone, even before you accosted me."
He watched me closely for a minute, and then his features relaxed and he looked about a thousand times calmer than he had a few seconds ago. "Okay. But if you so much as breathe a word to anyone—"
"You'll stab me in my sleep, I get it," I said in exasperation, but my anger was slowly subsiding. After all, Potter was simply looking out for his friend; I might have done the same if it had been Mary in this situation. It was, actually, sort of touching. In a completely twisted, maddening, Potter-ish way, of course.
"Well, actually, I was thinking of dropping poison in your pumpkin juice, but the logistics aren't really important," Potter said, the hint of his usual smirk tugging at his lips.
I rolled my eyes.
"And don't worry, I do think slightly higher of you than that," he added, the smirk fully in place now. "But only slightly."
"Fabulous," I deadpanned.
"It's just, when Remus told us he hadn't told you not to say anything—"
"—he was demonstrating his knowledge of my character, something you obviously couldn't be bothered to do," I finished.
Potter grinned. "Sorry, Evans. It won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't."
OOOOOOOO
When Peter Pettigrew came up to me after Potions the next morning, I thought the poor boy was going to wet his pants from nerves. "Er, Lily?" he said tentatively, and rather unnecessarily, as I'd already acknowledged his presence with a questioning look.
"Yes?" I said, trying not to smile.
"Can I talk to you?"
"Well, I suppose you already are, so, yes," I said, unable to help myself.
"Er . . . it's just . . ."
"Peter, is this about Remus?" I asked, to put the anxious Marauder out of his misery.
"Yes," he said, with some surprise.
"And how I shouldn't tell anyone, or you'll hurt me?"
"Ye-es, except, it'd probably be Padfoot or Prongs who'd—"
"Right, well, details aside, don't worry, I'm not planning on blabbing," I assured him. "You know Potter already talked to me about this right?"
"Well, yeah, but I just . . . you know . . ."
I smiled at him. "Well, you don't have to worry," I repeated, and Peter, looking supremely relieved, nodded and continued on his way.
OOOOOOOO
Because I was less pleased with him at the moment, and because I didn't really like him that much in general, and because I was a little sick of all the mistrust, I was much less agreeable when Sirius approached me after lunch.
Before he could even say anything, I said shortly, "I know—I know Remus's secret and I can't tell anyone on pain of death."
Sirius stopped, frowning. "You didn't know about Moony yet? Lord, Evans, where have you been the past five years? Under a rock?"
I glared at him. "Excuse me, but I—"
Black held up a hand. "Yeah, I'm really not interested, Evans," he said, his voice suddenly harsh.
Should have known that even Potter would get defensive about someone besides himself before Black would. "Well, then what exactly is this about?"
"Just stay out of it, all right?"
Honestly, did Potter and Black attend some sort of don't-explain-what-the-hell-you're-talking-about-when-you're-angry seminar? "Yeah, you're going to have to give me more to go on, Black."
"You can't—don't think you can—James's and my problems—they're our own damn problems, not yours!"
"What?" I said, completely thrown. This was not what I'd expected him to say at all.
"I know you talked to James about—"
"He told you that?" I interrupted, unsure if this angered or merely surprised me.
"No, he told Moony, and Moony told me. But that's not the point, Evans!"
"Well, I'd gathered that," I replied, feeling slightly unsettled by how closely this was starting to resemble an argument with Potter.
"I'm serious!" Black continued, eyes flashing dangerously.
"And I'm Lily," I couldn't stop myself from adding, aware that I was probably endangering my life in doing so. "I believe we've met?"
"If you enjoy having your nose attached to your face, Evans—" Sirius started through gritted teeth.
"All right, all right—but I didn't seek Potter out to talk about you, you know. He's the one who brought it up. Something about me being a neutral . . .well, I don't remember exactly how he put it, but it's not like we're having weekly therapy sessions or anything. And furthermore," I continued, preventing Black from interrupting as he so obviously wanted to, "I'm at perfect liberty to let the two of you know when you're acting like complete idiots."
"When—excuse me, the two of us? I am not acting idiotic in the slightest. It's Potter who's got—"
"Hey, I'm the only one who gets to call him Potter, Black. And stop acting all self-righteous and injured—you're being just as big a prat as he is, and you know it."
"I'll call him whatever I want! And what exactly are you saying, Evans?"
"I'm saying that it's none of your damn business who Potter does or doesn't date."
"You sound like Moony," Sirius muttered crossly.
Probably because I stole that argument from him, I replied silently. "Well, he's right."
"Yeah, right," Sirius scoffed. "Easy for him to say—he doesn't care about anything, just goes about life all calm and unbothered . . ."
"Oh come on, Black, you know that's not true."
Sirius shrugged moodily, but it seemed like he was starting to calm down.
I sighed. "Look, I can see where you're coming from." Black looked up at me in surprise. "Really, it's not hard for me to imagine being so annoyed with Chloe that you want to shove her perfect face into a pile of frog spawn."
Sirius's lips twitched slightly.
"Or, at least, that's what I always feel like doing whenever I see her. And if your best mate's dating someone like that, then it's even worse because you're forced to be around them all the time, but, Sirius, he is your best mate; that hasn't changed. And even though he's acting like a bit of a prick—okay, a rather big one," I amended at the skeptical look on Black's face, "I know he hates fighting with you. He's just too stubborn to admit it."
Sirius stared at me for a long time, an unreadable expression in his grey eyes. Just as I was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable, he said, "Prongs is going to be pissed that you called me 'Sirius' before you called him 'James'."
I snorted in disbelief. "That's all you have to say? That's what you took from that?" But I didn't miss the renewed use of his friend's nickname, and noted it with satisfaction.
Black shrugged. "Well, he is," he said matter-of-factly.
I rolled my eyes. "I think he'll live," I said dryly.
An odd look flashed through Sirius's eyes, but it was gone before I could identify it. "Anyway, let me get this straight: you think I should apologize to him?"
I shrugged. "I guess. At least, do something, so I don't have to deal with his complaints and moodiness anymore. It's unexpectedly more annoying than his normal self."
Sirius smirked at that. "Right. Well, I can't make any promises, but I'll think about it. He is still dating the girlfriend from hell."
That made me smile. "Fair enough. But, really, you don't think that's likely to last, do you? I mean, he's not going to marry the girl." I felt a strange sense of déjà vu, as I basically repeated what I'd told Potter four nights ago.
"No, I expect not," Sirius said knowingly. I wondered briefly what he was thinking, but, as it was him, decided I was probably better off not knowing.
"Well, either way, I'd rather you didn't tell Potter about this conversation." I'd only just realized that I'd been undeniably defending him for the past five minutes, and the thought of how he would hold something like that over me did not please me in the slightest.
"Can't promise anything about that, either, sorry, Evans."
"Black," I said warningly.
"Okay, I won't, don't get your wand in twist," he said.
A somewhat awkward silence fell between us. It had been a very strange week where the Marauders and I were concerned, I reflected. "Right, well, I'd better . . ." I jabbed my finger vaguely behind me.
"Me too," Sirius said with a grin.
We turned to go our separate directions, but I'd barely taken two steps when Sirius called my name.
I turned questioningly. "If you do tell anyone about Remus, I know where you sleep," he said ominously.
Despite the abnormal amounts of threats to my life that I'd received in the past twenty-four hours, I couldn't help but grin as I resumed walking once more.
A/N: Sorry—bit of a shorter chapter than normal….what can you do? ;)