Remus J. Lupin: A Closed Book III
That night, Sirius dreamed about Remus Lupin for the first time in nearly three years.
Afterwards, he blamed it on the other boy’s soppy nature, always being so concerned and thoughtful in his own slightly haphazard way, like that hug that came at just the right and entirely the wrong moment.
Of course, he had weird dreams about all of his close friends as he was going through early adolescence and was able to attribute that entirely to his confused hormones.
This was different. It wasn’t sexual, at least he could hold on to that redeeming feature. Trouble was he couldn’t really remember what the dream was even about; he was simply left with an unsettling feeling that buzzed in his chest and made him…not embarrassed around Remus, but somehow thinking that he should be.
Remus remained completely oblivious to the tension between them, or possibly he was just too polite to comment. James, however, wasn’t.
“Finally hauled off and punched you a good one did he?”
Sirius looked up from where he was failing to write a Transfiguration essay and stared dumbly at James, sprawled across two armchairs and not even attempting the work.
“What?”
“Remus. You’ve been avoiding him for days now, I figured you pissed him off and broke the serenity barrier. Which is impressive, Remus has the highest serenity barrier of anyone I’ve met. Then again, if I was to pick anyone to break it, it would definitely be you.”
Sirius crumpled up the failed first draft of his essay and hurled it at James’ head, catching him on the ear as he ducked out the way too late. The parchment rebounded off and into the embers of the fireplace where it sat hissing, the only sound in the common room for several minutes apart from the scratching of Sirius’ quill.
“You didn’t get into an argument, did you mate?” James’ voice sounded a little hoarse, uncomfortable after the prolonged silence, and he coughed awkwardly as he waited for his friend to reply.
Sirius paused in his writing, staring unseeing at the roll of parchment, his mind working furiously for something to say. “No, it’s nothing like that. Remus hasn’t done anything.” He could feel himself start to blush, memories of the dream unfurling in his mind and he abruptly stood up.
“Dunno, just been in a weird mood lately. Too much working and not enough messing about in the fresh air I reckon.” He gave a sharp laugh, throwing the quill down and shaking his hair out of his eyes, letting those heavy thoughts sink to the back of his mind and slipping easily back into his normal carefree, mischievous persona.
James gave him a narrow look that Sirius pointedly ignored as he gathered up his cloak from the stand in the corner and threw it over his shoulders. With an inaudible sigh, James followed suit and, as they raced down the long, curving staircase to the main doors, he tried to shake off the nagging thoughts that insisted something was wrong.
Of course, James has known Sirius far too long, and far too well, to believe his excuses, but there had never been a time they didn’t share their secrets and he couldn’t imagine anything that was bad enough that Sirius didn’t want to tell him.
It had been steadily snowing for over a week now and the grounds were foot deep in soft, white powder that crunched under their feet as James and Sirius ran past groups of giggling first years to the ancient willow tree beside the Great Lake.
James gave Sirius a boost up onto the lowest branch that grew out almost perpendicular to the trunk, Sirius’ scrabbling feet showering clumps of snow over him as he got a foothold. Settling himself firmly in the crook of the tree-branch, Sirius turned and pulled James up after him and they scrambled up the willow until they could look out over the rest of the forest.
They sat there, half way up the tree, throwing occasional snowballs down onto the other students that ran squealing beneath them and talking about nothing much at all, as James tried to find a way to steer the conversation back to what was really worrying Sirius.
Flames flickered from behind the castle windows as torches lit up all along the corridors and James suddenly realised how dark it was getting, the winter night creeping in early. He glanced at his watch, then up at the sky as a high wind parted the clouds and the waxing gibbous moon shone down on them and an idea presented itself.
“Huh, full moon in a few nights. This month seems to have passed quickly, doesn’t it?”
Sirius grunted his assent, carelessly dropping the snowball he had clenched in his hand and hunching his shoulders as he leant back against the cold trunk of the willow.
James shifted on the branch he was straddling until he faced Sirius, gripping tightly to the small, but sturdy, limbs that grew out close to his perch. He waited in silence, his gazed fixed on Sirius’ face, recognising the look he wore that told him Sirius had something he wanted to say and needed to think carefully before speaking, itself a rather rare occurrence.
“I don’t think I can deal with him alone this full moon. Not after last time.”
James sat abruptly upright, his fists tightening on the bark beneath his fingers, the slim branches shaking and scattering snowflakes over the both of them. “What? But I thought it went okay last month?”
“I managed to keep him under control, but only just.” Sirius’ voice was low and steady, firm even as he forced any emotion out of his words. He was fiercely protective of his friends, always had been but more so now that his family had disowned him, which combined with a volatile nature gave Sirius a low breaking point. Of course, that was part of the reason he acted so frivolous the rest of the time, as the true power of his focus and determination was incredible.
Unfortunately James, though possessed of a better temper than his friend, had rather less strict control over his emotions when they did burst through and he could feel his voice rising almost to a shout; “Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”
“We didn’t want to concern you.” Sirius knuckles were white where he gripped fiercely onto the tree branches, his arms shaking slightly from the pressure. “It didn’t seem to matter that much at the time, because nothing bad actually happened and I thought everything would be resolved by now.”
“Sirius, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“Don’t make me go by myself.” There was a pleading note on Sirius’ voice, a faint intonation that James only picked up on through years of experience and the unspoken message was one of fear. Sirius was afraid; completely and genuinely terrified.
“This isn’t a game anymore. He’s a fully grown wolf for fuck’s sake, three nights every month and Remus is trapped inside of him.” James stared half in shock at Sirius’ profile, trying to decipher where these thoughts were leading.
“We knew what Remus was right from the start, when we figured it out. We’ve been taught all about werewolves, we’ve spent four years with him an-”
“But we didn’t really know, did we?” Sirius refused to look at James as he spoke, gazing out steadily across the still Lake that stretched out from under the eaves of the forest. “Reading it in a book, hearing someone tell you all about it - that’s nothing like being there in front of a young man, one of your best friends, as the moon claims him and rips him apart into this…this monster.”
“Sirius-“
“Do you think he’s aware? Do you think Remus stares out from inside this beast’s body and watches everything that it does without being able to stop any of it? I hope not. I hope he can’t remember any of it. I can’t believe I never thought to ask him before.”
James leant forward and rested his hand on Sirius’ forearm, trying to regain his attention: “Sirius, please-““It’s getting dark, we should go back.”