Chapter Nine
Because a White Flag is Cliché
"So, let me get this straight: you completely butchered your audition – not even on purpose – and Flitwick still gave you a leading role?"
I sat next to Benjy in Transfiguration the day after my disaster with Lupin, and he looked equal parts amazed and bemused.
"Oh, stop gawking, Benj," I sighed, attempting to run a hand through my hair and only succeeding in getting it ensnared in my curls. "You're acting like I just saved a child from being trampled by a herd of hippogriffs; it's not that impressive."
"Nah, I'm sure the whole thing was horrendous," he said, and I frowned at him, managing to disentangle my fingers at last. "I'm just in awe that you've managed to bullshit your way through yet another thing."
"Thanks, Benjy," I said, rolling my eyes and going back to my parchment, where I was supposed to be copying down notes Professor McGonagall had bewitched onto the chalkboard. "Your confidence is overwhelming. Really gives me that warm and fuzzy feeling inside."
He chuckled under his breath, and I had just finished the first bullet point when he turned to me curiously.
"What's been going on with you and the others lately?" he asked, and I cringed. I knew the question was bound to pop up sooner or later – after all, I wasn't exactly hiding my displeasure with the girls, and the tension between us these last few days was nearly palpable – but that still didn't mean I wanted to answer it.
"I talked to Dorcas about it—" he continued, and I whipped my head around so fast my neck nearly cricked.
"Yeah?" I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "And what did Dorcas I'm-always-right Meadowes have to say?"
Benjy gave me a dry look as if I had just proved Dorcas's point – whatever that point was. "That you're being a stubborn prat, and you've been lashing out at everyone – well, more so than usual, at least."
I glowered down at my parchment, clutching my quill tightly. I wanted to argue, deny it all, but the simple fact was that I couldn't. I knew I was being stubborn, and I knew I was being – as Potter had so eloquently put it last week – a bitch, but why wasn't I allowed to be? It seemed that this year had turned into the "Piper Everlark Witch Hunt" (no pun intended), so couldn't I express my frustration and anger about that? Why was everyone on my case, anyway?
Benjy sighed when I refused to answer, still glaring at my notes. "Look, Pipes, I know you've had a rough couple of years, and with everything that's going on now, it probably isn't helping, but maybe you should try, I dunno, opening up more?"
He cringed when I looked at him, my expression flat, but he kept going. "You keep everything bottled inside too much, and it's not healthy. Especially after everything that happened with your dad—"
"Professor, may I go to the restroom, please?" I asked loudly, speaking over Benjy, and the bespectacled witch glanced up from grading the papers in front of her, nodding silently in affirmation.
Benjy looked affronted as I stood up and stalked from the room, and I felt bad, really, but he had struck a nerve, and that was one of the many conversations I did not want to have.
I trudged into the girls' lavatory down the corridor, approaching a sink and turning on the faucet. I began to wash my hands slowly, enjoying the cool feel of the water, all the while staring into the mirror.
I looked the same as I ever did: long, curly black hair, fair skin, and a dash of freckles across my cheeks that you wouldn't be able to tell were there considering how much makeup I used to cover them. I had always hated my freckles, especially when my face used to be covered in acne and they had just blended in with all my pimples, making my skin look worse than it actually did. My eyes were still the same shade of robin's egg blue, but they looked more tired than normal, more worn. Jeez, was sixth year aging me that fast already?
I stayed over the sink even after I had dried my hands and the water had swirled down the drain. I hated proving Benjy right, skulking away in the loo after he had tried to talk to me, but I really wasn't in the mood to have another of my friends on my ass, especially after bringing up my dad like that.
I flashed back to my conversation with Evans several weeks ago, when she had told me about all the things I had screamed at her two years ago to make her hate me so much, remembering why I had even lost my head at her in the first place.
I had always known that Archie and I being magical and going off to a wizarding school had put a strain on our parents and their already rocky relationship, but they had tried to keep things normal as much as possible despite it all. However, it didn't work out that well.
As Archie and I had gotten more involved in the wizarding world, so did our parents by default. While Mum embraced it as readily as she could, Dad had tried his best to remain wholly separated from it. I don't think he ever really believed in all the magic stuff, but the older Archie and I got, the harder it had been for him to turn a blind eye. I think the final straw for him was when we had taken him to Diagon Alley the summer before my fourth year. I guess Mum thought that if he saw our world, he would get more accustomed to it, but it had the opposite effect. He drew away from us (well, more than he already had) and refused to even acknowledge that part of our lives.
Archie was devastated, of course; he and Dad had always been close, and the reservation and cold shoulder from Dad had hit him hard. Me? I couldn't care less. Dad and I always had our issues ever since I was a kid and learned early about his drinking, and this just gave me another excuse not to deal with him. Still, it's a blow to the gut when you receive a letter from your father asking you not to contact him anymore while you were away at school.
I had been angry more than anything. It stung, yeah – rejection was always a bitch – but I had also been furious. How dare he tell his own daughter not to write him anymore? How dare he tell his son not to write him anymore? It was on Archie's behalf that I had flown into a rage – especially after he had confronted me and screamed about how it had all been my fault – and pity on Evans for being the first one to find me and receive the brunt of my wrath.
That had been two years ago, and I was certain Archie had never forgiven me for it, even if I really didn't have anything to do with it. He was convinced that I had treated Dad so poorly that I had pushed him away from us, and maybe I had, but ultimately it was on Dad for not wanting to accept who we really were.
I checked my watch, seeing that I only had five minutes left of class, and I decided to go back now that I was calmed down some. I walked in just as everyone was packing up, and Benjy glanced up when I slid back into my seat.
"I copied the rest of the notes for you if you wanna have a look and jot them down," he said, sliding his parchment over to me, and I flashed him a brief smile of gratitude that he returned.
"Thanks, Benj," I said. "I'll get them back to you later tonight."
He nodded, giving me another grin before getting up and departing with the rest once the bell rang.
I sat in my seat, scribbling down the notes quickly before McGonagall's next class arrived. She didn't say anything to me when I stayed behind, though I could hear the entering students speculating why the sixth-year was still here.
After finishing the rest of my notes, I shoved the two pieces of parchment into my bag and stood up only to crash into someone's chest.
"Sorry," I said gruffly at the same time Lupin said, "I'm sorry, excuse me."
I nearly groaned aloud when I realized it was him I had bumped into. Why was it always bloody him? His expression soured when he saw me, though I noticed his cheeks were faintly pink. He had to still be embarrassed over the stinging words I had hurled at him yesterday during the audition.
I brushed past him without another word, but he turned and grabbed my elbow. "Wait!"
"What do you want, Lupin?" I cried in exasperation, pivoting on my heel to face him with a scowl. "Do you think it's kinky every time I yell at you? Is that why you're constantly bugging me?"
"Will you just shut up for once?" he growled, and the tone of his voice made me pause.
I didn't speak, merely blinking at him in slight shock. Even he seemed surprised at the intensity of his voice, though he went on without acknowledging it.
"This has to stop," he said, lowering his voice when some students entered the classroom behind us. I raised a questioning brow. "We can't keep being at each other's throats, not if we're supposed to be working together on the play."
"Then quit trying to talk to me and we won't have any problems," I said.
"I can't do that," he said quietly.
"You have to," I said, wondering why my chest was so tight all of a sudden. "For both our sakes, just stop trying to make amends between us. There's been too much said and done for us to go back to the way things were."
It saddened me to say that, I realized, but I snapped myself out of that quickly. There would be no pity party for me today.
"Please," he said, and he sounded so genuine that something in my gut stirred uncomfortably. "Just let me say something once. Meet me at the place I showed you in the courtyard after dinner. We can talk there."
I sized him up, wondering if he was being serious or if I was being set up for a prank. I wasn't going to put it past him, but I found myself nodding nonetheless.
"Fine," I said. "But don't expect any white flags."
And with that, I turned on my heel and flounced away.
I guess I should come clean.
I haven't been entirely honest, and for that, I figure I should say sorry. But when I talk about how sick I am of everyone bringing up the past, I mean I am really sick of it. I was a person who tried to avoid dwelling on things too much; firstly, it was just too much to worry about on top of everything else I had to deal with, and secondly, it was terrible for my complexion. Trust me, my nickname used to be Pimply. I know these things. But just because I tried not to dwell on the past didn't mean I couldn't hold grudges for things that happened in the way back when (ahem, Lupin and the Marauders, and the other Gryffindor girls, and Bertram Aubrey, and – well, you get the idea). My abstinence from dwelling has kept me from telling the whole story of how, exactly, I went from being the Marauders' best mate to their Public Enemy Number Three. Therefore, I'm resigning myself to sharing it now.
My first week at Hogwarts had been rough. I mean, how can wizards just pluck random Muggle-borns and plop them into a school of magic where they don't know anybody, let alone how to do magic, and expect them to be all right? That kind of thing is bloody traumatizing for an eleven-year-old if you ask me.
Anyway, there I was: eleven, friendless, uncertain, frightened, and a Muggle-born. I had heard kids talking on the Express our first day about the four Houses, and I'd been terrified that I was going to end up a Hufflepuff, the "House of duffers." And yet, the Sorting Hat had placed me into Gryffindor, and for the first night, I had been ecstatic, albeit a little lonely. My dormmates, Dorcas Meadowes, Rebecca Crouch, and Emmeline Vance – odd names – were obviously all from wizarding families, and they had seemed to know each other already, and thus kept to themselves.
The following days had been embarrassing and mortifying. The kids wearing the silver-and-green ties – who I had learned were the Slytherins – hissed and laughed at me in the halls, some of the older ones even mocking me, calling me 'Mudblood.' I clearly had no idea what the word meant at the time, but I cottoned on quickly enough to realize that it was a derogatory term, one that was aimed at Muggle-borns.
Lessons hadn't been too bad; most everyone was at the same level as me – meaning they knew nothing, as well – and I threw myself headfirst into the work they gave us, wanting nothing more than to prove myself to my Housemates, and those bloody Slytherins. I also thought that becoming one of the top students would help me make friends, so it was with relish I began learning ahead in all my classes. I even dyed my bangs red one night on a whim to symbolize Gryffindor, and received a few compliments, though no one wanted anything to do with a first-year like me.
Then came the Whizbang incident. I had heard rumors, of course, from the other first-years about the so-called Marauders, who were a year ahead of us and in Gryffindor House too. They were supposedly the coolest second-years in the school, poised to become pranking legends by the time they graduated. Everyone in the second- and first-year worshipped them, and even some of the older students were begrudgingly amused by their antics, especially after their first prank of the year that year.
I had been walking through the third-floor corridor, heading to lunch with the rest of the students, when suddenly fireworks had begun to crack and sparkle above us, showering sparks on our heads. I saw the Marauders cackling and whooping as they set off the Whizbangs before my eye caught on a dud that didn't explode in the air like it should have, instead plummeting back down to where one of the four boys stood, oblivious to the impending explosive.
Before I could even process what I was doing, I had hurled myself at the boy, knocking him out of the way just as the Whizbang detonated where he had been standing. My ears had been ringing and my mouth tasted of ash after it was done, but I stood up quickly, suddenly embarrassed. Why had I even done that? I didn't even know him!
He got to his feet, and I could feel his stare boring into my face, making me more and more uncomfortable with each passing second. It took me a moment to remember his name, but suddenly it hit me: Remus Lupin. That was it.
"Er…thanks," he said, sounding slightly awed.
I sifted through a million responses in my mind, ranging from nice to snarky, before finally settling on the oh-so-savvy, "You're an idiot."
I turned and began striding for the Great Hall, my face burning, but his voice held me back. "Hey, wait!"
I faced him once more, hoping he hadn't noticed the blush on my cheeks. To my utter mortification, it didn't help that he was cute too: tall, sandy hair, green eyes, and a sweet smile, even if it did look sheepish at that moment. I seemed to have skipped the part of life where it was a known fact that boys had cooties because I could not get over that smile.
He scratched the back of his neck, grinning slightly. "What's your name, firsty?"
"I'm Piper Everlark," I said, hoping I didn't sound too nervous. "And you're welcome, by the way."
I nodded to the mark on the floor where the Whizbang had blown before dashing off and leaving him alone in the corridor, my face hotter than it had ever felt.
If I had known back then that what I had done was something the Marauders felt to commemorate me, I probably wouldn't have bothered. The Whizbang incident had earned me their grudging respect, and from then on, I had found myself constantly surrounded by them. We ate meals together, they helped me study in the library (when they weren't getting kicked out), and generally just hung around me as if we had been friends forever. They began teaching me their ways of pranking, and sometimes, when we were bored, Lupin and I would take walks around the lake just to talk.
He had been witty and charming, and I was fascinated. Not only had he been cute, but he had been smart and kind and thoughtful. He clung on to every word you said as if it was the most interesting thing he'd ever heard, and his attention would never waver. We talked about anything and everything: our families, our home lives, our hopes for the future, and one day, he even opened up to me about his lycanthropy – all the things best friends talked about. Because I came to realize toward the end of my first year that Remus Lupin was my best friend, and – go ahead, sue me – the boy I had the biggest crush on.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I had fancied Remus Lupin. It's sad to say, really, but it was true. Good riddance the second incident had happened, then, or else I might've actually gone out with the sap.
I wasn't blind. I knew the Marauders had a bit of a bullying streak going on, particularly when it came to Severus Snape and Bertram Aubrey, or anyone else they felt deserved it. Potter had always been the instigator, of course, with Black egging him on and Pettigrew encouraging him with laughter. I'd sensed that Lupin wasn't that into it, but he'd never said a word against it, opting to stand back and watch and take me with him. I didn't approve of it, either, but I was like Lupin; only watching, afraid to speak up for fear of losing the first friends I had made since coming to Hogwarts. Until the day everything changed.
It had happened in the entrance hall. I'd been coming down the marble staircase with Lupin, heading to dinner, when we saw Potter and Black confronting three girls, and I'd realized with a start that they were my dormmates, Dorcas, Becca, and Emmeline.
"Just stay out of things that aren't your business!" Potter was shouting at them. "If I want to have a go at Snivellus then I'll have one!"
"He hasn't done anything to you!" Emmeline said shrilly, and I was surprised. Emmeline had always been soft-spoken, and I honestly hadn't pegged her as a confrontational type. "He was just walking to dinner!"
They were starting to draw a crowd.
"Yeah, and leaving slimy grease trails everywhere he stepped foot," Black sneered, and some of the surrounding students snickered. I couldn't see a sign of Snape anywhere, and I figured he had slipped back into the crowd. Coward.
Dorcas had stepped forward then, balling her fists.
"You both think you're so special," she snapped. "You and your friends are nothing but bullies! Just leave everyone in this school alone!"
"Or what?" Potter said nastily. "You'll call on your Amazon warriors to beat us up?"
Dorcas faltered at Potter's insinuation, no doubt because of her height and sturdy build, and Potter grinned gleefully when Pettigrew roared with laughter.
"Why don't you run along now, Amazon?" Black jeered. "Take Freak and Pupils with you; Pupils looks like she's about to start crying."
"How can you tell?" Pettigrew piped up from Black's other shoulder. "Her eyes are so small and squinty!"
Emmeline's lower lip wobbled, and suddenly, I felt terrible. Though they weren't my friends, they weren't horrible, either. The only reason why I let Snape and Aubrey slide was because the Marauders had told me how awful they were, but it suddenly dawned on me: were they? Or had the Marauders been filling my head with lies, trying to get me to see things their way so I wouldn't reprimand them for bullying others? I'd suddenly felt queasy.
"Oh, but don't let Freak eat too much!" Black called after the girls as they began shouldering their way through the crowd. "We'll need to start calling her Cow, otherwise!"
I gaped, whirling on Lupin.
"How can you just stand there?" I demanded, and he winced at my tone. "They're saying such awful things! Can't you stop them?"
"Er…" He looked uncomfortable. "I'm sure they don't mean it…"
I blinked, shocked. It was as if someone had opened these heavy, dreadful drapes inside my mind, allowing me to see clearly for the first time.
"You're a coward," I said bluntly, and his eyes widened. "A true Gryffindor would stand up to their friends if they were being spiteful, but you…"
"Piper—" he started, but I pulled away when he reached for me, tears pooling in my eyes. How could I have been so blind to this? My stupid crush had fogged my brain, making me believe that what they were doing was okay, and it wasn't.
"You're a coward, Remus Lupin," I said. "And I'm not friends with cowards."
I left him standing at the top of the stairs, pelting down the steps until I was in front of Black, Potter, and Pettigrew, who chortled to themselves as if they hadn't just mocked those girls in front of the whole school.
"I'm done," I snapped, marching up to them.
They stopped laughing, though they didn't seem fazed by the anger in my eyes.
"Hey, Pipes," Potter said, grinning. "Did you see their faces? What a bunch of ninnies—"
"That Evans girl is right about one thing, Potter," I said, and he frowned at my sudden use of his last name. "You're nothing but an arrogant, bullying toerag."
I whirled on Black. "And you. You always tout about how great it is not being in Slytherin, but for a Gryffindor, you sure act like a spineless snake."
Their mouths were hanging open in shock, but I wasn't done.
"You can do better than these berks, Pettigrew," I said coldly. "Don't listen to them."
Potter was spluttering, his face red.
"What's gotten into you?" he demanded. "I thought we were friends—"
"Not anymore," I said. "We're through. I'm done being associated with the school's biggest prats."
Potter narrowed his eyes behind his glasses.
"Fine," he said petulantly. "Be that way."
He nudged a mutinous Black and silent Pettigrew after him, but not before turning around and shouting, "See you 'round, Pimply!"
My face flushed, but I was too angry to be embarrassed. I stared after them, only taking my eyes off them at the touch of someone's hand on my shoulder.
"Piper," Lupin said. "Hey, come on; they were just being idiots. I'm sure they didn't mean it—"
I shrugged his hand off my shoulder, scowling. "Stop making excuses for them, Remus! They're never going to change; don't pretend like you don't know that."
He seemed to deflate in on himself, sighing. "Piper, please—"
"Enjoy your life, Lupin," I said, fighting to hold back tears. "I'm done being a part of it. I…I thought you were different, but…" I sniffed. "Goodbye."
I hurried into the Hall after that, pretending I hadn't seen his heartbroken expression. I found my dormmates sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table, looking troubled, and Emmeline was wiping her eyes on a napkin. They looked up when I threw myself into the seat next to Dorcas, their expressions wary, but I gave them a watery smile.
"So," I said, picking up a dinner roll and taking a large bite. "I'm on the market for some new friends. You lot interested?"
Slowly, we shared a large grin, and though I had gained three new friends that day, it still hadn't stopped me from sobbing into my pillow later that night when they were all asleep.
So, there you have it. The full tale of how my war with the Marauders started. We had been enemies ever since, yet for some reason, Lupin couldn't leave me the bloody hell alone, as evidenced by wanting to talk to me – again – tonight.
I dropped by the Gryffindor common room before dinner, dragging myself through the portrait hole with a sigh. Spotting my friends sitting near the fireplace, I trudged over to them, throwing my bag on the floor and plopping myself onto the sofa JJ and Dom were occupying, practically splaying atop them like a cat.
"Piper the Viper," Dom said, scratching the top of my head before I batted his hand away. "What have you been up to today, my dear?"
"Thinking of ways I can make Lupin's death look like an accident," I said.
I ignored Dorcas's light scoff.
"What'd he do now?" JJ asked, shifting beneath me and moving my elbow out of his hip with a grimace.
"Existing. Being a pain in my ass. Breathing. Being an even bigger pain in my ass."
Another scoff from Dorcas.
Doing my best not to rise to the bait, I instead rolled off the boys and stood, grabbing my bag again. "Well, I'm off to dinner. Anyone coming?"
JJ and Dom followed me off the couch, and after exchanging a look, Alfie and Benjy got to their feet too. I cocked a brow at Emmeline, who looked back and forth between Dorcas and me. "Coming, Em?"
"Er, sorry, Pipes, I can't," she said. "I, er…have to do homework."
"Okay." I shrugged. "Suit yourself."
Dorcas scoffed again, and this time I couldn't stop myself from turning on her.
"Need to see Madam Pomfrey for that cough, Dor?" I asked sweetly, and she glared at me.
"Nope, I feel fine," she said in the same tone of voice. "Sorry we can't eat with you tonight; Mary invited me and the girls to sit with her friends and the Marauders."
"How nice," I said flatly. "Tell Macdonald I send my regards, and let her know that I have an application for her to fill out if she wants to keep up her shrink work."
Dorcas scowled, and I wiggled my fingers before making for the portrait hole. "Ciao."
I wasn't gonna lie, I was pissed. How could they just up and leave me like that? And the Marauders? Really? This was only further proof that everyone was out to get me this year.
I didn't speak all through dinner, instead spending my time spearing green beans with my fork and glaring in the direction of Dorcas and the others. They were all laughing as if they were old friends, and my gaze slid to Lupin, only to find him already staring at me.
He looked away hastily, throwing in some undoubtedly stupid joke that made the rest of them laugh, and I gripped my fork so tightly I thought the poor utensil would snap.
"Oi, ease up," Alfie said, prying the fork from my death grip. "Just because the fork doesn't have feelings doesn't mean you can abuse it."
I shot him a withering look, and he smiled nervously. "Uh, sorry? I was kidding; please, abuse it as much as you want. I'll turn a blind eye."
"Am I a bitch?" I blurted out, and they all froze, suddenly looking panicked.
I beseeched each one of them with pleading eyes, which they readily avoided before Alfie spoke up again.
"Er, well, I wouldn't go that far…" he hedged.
"Bitchy isn't a word I would use to describe you," JJ said. "I mean, I'd use petty, stubborn, rude, mean, but, uh… you're also really nice, and really pretty?" he finished lamely when I looked at him with high brows.
"Yeah, pretty," Dom said hurriedly before he began to wolf down his mashed potatoes at an alarming rate. I turned to Benjy last with hopeful eyes.
"This is one of those trick questions, isn't it?" he said suspiciously. "Like when a girl asks if her new robes make her look fat?"
I groaned, smacking my head on the table.
"I get it, I get it," I said. "I'm a bitch. Thanks."
"Not all the time," Benjy said quickly, backtracking. "It's just, you can – you know – be a little intense sometimes."
I groaned again.
"You just need to brush up on your people skills more," JJ said. "Like, uh, smile more, and don't make faces at them when they say something dumb—"
"Oh, never mind," I said, bringing my head up from the table. "Forget I asked."
I saw a movement from my peripheral and locked eyes with Lupin again. He tapped his watch, mouthing, Outside. Five minutes. I rolled my eyes.
After making up some lame excuse about homework, I got up from the table and meandered outside, wrapping my arms around myself. November would be here in a few weeks, but already the temperature was cooler, and I cursed myself for not thinking to bring my scarf.
"Cold?" Lupin asked from behind me, and I spun around. He was illuminated by the golden light streaming through the doors of the castle, giving him a bronzy glow, and something in my chest clenched at the sight.
"Yeah," I mumbled, figuring there would be no use in hiding it.
He pulled out his Gryffindor red-and-gold scarf from a pocket of his robes and held it out to me, displaying it like a banner.
"You said no white flags, right?" he said with a cheeky grin, and I nearly choked on air. Lupin was making a joke?
"Yeah," I said again, reaching for the scarf and wrapping it around my neck. It was warm and soft and smelled like the woods and something almost akin to cinnamon, but more…manly, I guess.
He gestured for me to follow him, and I did, and soon we had reached the secret alcove. The sky was clear above us, and here, nestled in the Scottish mountains, the stars were many and beautiful, scattered across the sky like diamonds displayed against blue velvet. I listened to the distant rushing of the falls that fed into the Black Lake, waiting for him to speak. It took a few minutes, but finally, he did.
"I know you don't want to hear any apologies, but at least listen to what I have to say before you go storming off," he began. I remained expressionless, choosing to stare out at the distant peaks swathed in shadow, and he continued.
"Yesterday, at the auditions. Everything you said was right."
Wait, what?
I looked at him in confusion, but now he was the one refusing to meet my gaze, instead tracing patterns on the stone ledge with his finger.
"I could've gone after you that day," he said, and I was surprised to hear him bring up The Day. "I should have, but I didn't. James and Sirius and Peter were my best mates. The first friends I had ever had. I overlooked their faults because I didn't want to lose that bond. After all, who would have ever wanted to be friends with a werewolf?"
I started. That was the first time I had ever heard him call himself a werewolf out loud. Normally he just stuck with "his furry little problem."
He shook his head. "They were prats back then, I won't deny that, and I truly am sorry for what they did to your friends. But they've changed now, and those days are little more than memories we look back on and groan about. The only regrets I have are not learning to stand up to them sooner, and because of that, losing you as a friend in the process."
I blinked, and to my utter horror, my eyelashes were wet. Thank God it was dark, or else I would've looked a bloody fool right then.
He finally looked at me, and I hastily wiped my eyes on his scarf, mascara be damned. My pride was more important at that moment.
"I'm so sorry, Piper," he said. "I never meant for any of this to happen. And James – bleeding prat that he is – was right. I do miss you. But I understand if you want me to leave you alone from here on out. I won't even speak to you if you want. Just know that I really am sorry."
"Why?" I said, and I was horrified to hear my voice thick with tears. "Why are you saying all this now?"
He looked so sad at that moment that I had to resist the urge to reach out and touch him.
"Honestly? Because it might be the last chance I get to say it."
He stared out to the dark horizon, a muscle twitching in his jaw, and I frowned, puzzled.
"Because you're graduating, right?" I said, and he shook his head.
"That's a part of it, yes," he said, and suddenly it hit me.
"You're joining the war."
Not a question, but a statement. I could see enough in his eyes to fill in the blank spaces I had. I had always been able to read his eyes.
"As soon as we're done with school," he said. "All of us are going: Sirius, James, Peter, Lily, Alice, some others. We decided it last year."
I was in shock. For some reason, the notion of all of them going off to fight was terrifying, and my lungs felt like they were cracking under the pressure of me not breathing properly.
"That's…very noble," I finally said, and a soft grin ghosted across his face.
"Yeah," he said, and it was silent between us for a few moments.
I studied his face in the starlight, noting all the faint scars, some old, and some new. He looked as if he had already seen war, but instead of two sides fighting, it was a battle against himself. It was then that I realized that I missed him.
I missed bloody Remus Lupin.
"We can't change the past," I said suddenly, and he jumped slightly as if forgetting that I was there. He looked at me questioningly but I rambled on before I lost my nerve, as I had already lost my sanity, it seemed. "I-I'm not saying we should jump to being friends, but, I mean, it wouldn't be so bad if we…stopped being enemies. We could be, like, acquaintances, maybe—"
I cut off when I saw him grinning at me, looking far too amused at this situation. "What?"
"Nothing," he said, chuckling. "Acquaintances it is, then."
He held out his hand for me to shake, and I eyed him warily.
"Just don't make me regret this, Lupin," I muttered.
He laughed as we shook hands, and after a moment, a small smile found its way onto my own face, as well.
And thus, the Treaty of Lupin-Everlark is struck.
