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Remus Lupin was seven when a storm blew through his town. His father cursed the old Gods. He heard mutters of ‘Zeus’ and ‘Thor’ and ‘Marduk’. That was the first time Remus thought of storms being named after people.
When he was eleven he heard of the cyclones in America. These weren’t named after the gods but other people. He asked his mother why and she just said he’d understand when he was older. Remus didn’t understand that but he smiled because he was going to Hogwarts soon and he didn’t want to leave fighting.
Remus was twelve the first time he thought he understood. His friends had cornered him before the moon rise and told him they knew. They knew what he was. Remus ran before he could hear that the knew and didn’t care. He understood why storms were named after people then. The Marauders had come into his life and without warning had ripped away the foundations of his life. They blew away the fear and the loathing. They loved him and they wanted to help. Perhaps this was like the flooding in the Nile, water that destroyed but brought new life.
He was fourteen when he realised that when the light hit Sirius’ grey eyes they looked silver. He realised that he liked the feeling of sharing the cloak and being pushed so close together he could feel Sirius’ pulse. He was fourteen when Lily Evans told him he liked Sirius. Like he had two years ago, Remus ran away. He found himself struggling to be around Sirius. What had once been easy now exhausted him. Sirius had cornered him after class one day and asked what had happened, what had he done. Remus felt his heart shatter. Sirius pleaded, “Talk to me, let me in, let me help, what do you want?”
Sirius was so close, Remus knew what he wanted and there was no one around.
Sirius tasted like salt and mint toothpaste. Sirius didn’t pull away. When neither of them could breath he laughed. “Why didn’t you say so sooner?”
Remus felt his life change and warp, like wood soaked in water. This felt new and tender but Remus wouldn’t ruin it.
For two wonderful years, Remus had days of clear skies. Life was good. The Marauders joined him for the full moons and he woke up without pain. He and Sirius existed in silent stolen moments, it was almost a game. ‘I’ll hold your hand under the table and trace circles on the back, don’t let anyone notice.’ There were times they’d be interrupted by James and Peter, they’d break apart roaring with laughter while their friends went red.
Remus had forgotten his childhood question one full moon night. The wind howled like he would in a few minutes and the wind blew away any trace of thought left in his head. He knew that soon Moony would come out to play but that would be alright because the Marauders would be there soon. He kept composure while he waited for the moon to rise. His screams escaped at the last second so they were a strangled half cry. Moony didn’t immediately rip himself apart, he waited.
No one came.
At some point that night he smelt the deer but different somehow, and a new scent. Moony didn’t like the new scent. He whined for his friend but no one came through the trapdoor. Moony ripped himself apart after they left. Nothing could hurt more than being alone.
When Remus woke up it was still storming. It seemed fitting after he heard the news. Sirius had betrayed him. Sirius had sent Snivelous down the Whomping Willow. He was grateful that he couldn’t get up, he didn’t know what he would have done to Sirius if he could stand. The wolf had been angry last night, Remus was angrier.
Unbidden his mother’s words from years ago entered his mind.
‘Mum why are storms named after people?’ He’d asked.
His mother had smiled sadly, she knew she was telling the truth. ‘You’ll understand when you’re older.’
He had thought he’d understood. He’d been wrong. Storms were named after people because they destroyed you. Without warning, without reason. They ripped the ground out from beneath your feet and left you wondering how you were supposed to cope in this new and changed world.
That was what it had been when he was twelve and fourteen.
He now realised that those were the storms that washed in after a fire. Storms that devastated to make the world better.
Now he was in a hurricane. A piece of debris being ripped from a house and spun so violently it no longer knew where it came from.
Remus had forgotten sometimes you knew a storm was coming. How often had Sirius been drunk and angry? How often had he threatened Snape? How often had he said he didn’t deserve Remus?
Remus was a fool. He had known that his world would be destroyed and had smiled while it happened.
Storms are named after people because you know they’re coming but you think you’re invincible. You think you’re more prepared or that it won’t reach you. Because of your arrogance you’re shocked when it indiscriminately tears the world apart.
Storms are named after people because they will destroy your world in the most beautiful way possible. People will make you fall in love slowly, passionately and with all your heart. Then smile at you while they rip it out still beating.
Remus knew now why storms were named after people and he’d do anything not to.