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The final exit of Hogwarts’ seventh year students rarely saw less enthusiasm than it did in 1978. Few of the freshly-minted fully-qualified witches and wizards boarded the waiting train with burgeoning careers or plans for their futures. A handful of Slytherins remained unaffected by the dour mood—several had ministry positions waiting for them, or claimed that they did—but the rest of the students remained stiff and pale and lost. There was a war going on, after all, and now there would be no castle walls to keep out the worst of it.
Remus Lupin stood waiting at the Hogsmeade platform with his three closest friends. None of them were behaving quite right either. Try as they might have to play at high spirits, James and Sirius clearly didn’t have their hearts in it, and if everyone else was pale, Peter was white as a ghost. Strange, Remus reflected, that he was the least dejected-looking of this group. Then again, he had been mentally preparing to leave school with no prospects much longer than they had.
“So, Remus, will you be coming directly home with James and me? We never did finish making our arrangements.”
Sirius’ voice startled Remus out of his thoughts. He looked from one of his friends’ faces to another, but could not work out what conversation it was that he had missed.
“Arrangements for what?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“For my wedding to Lily, of course!” said James. “It’s in under a month, and I know you haven’t really got another place to go until then. Come stay with us.”
“I’m not interested in accepting any charity—”
“Charity!”
“What are you talking about, mate?” Sirius chimed in. “Peter’s coming, too, and he could just as well stay with his mother. Talk about charity!”
“Hey! You know if I stay with her she’ll never let me outside in the present climate!” Peter said indignantly.
Sirius grinned. “Maybe we shouldn’t let you out either. You might not make it out there ‘in the present climate’ without someone to protect you, Wormtail.”
“I’m a fully-capable wizard myself. I don’t need you and James babysitting me anymore! Right, Remus?”
James turned to Remus, effectively blocking out Peter and Sirius’ continued argument as they stepped inside the Hogwarts Express at last. He gazed at Remus imploringly and unflinchingly. The two wizards bickering a few feet away might as well have not been there at all. This was a shame for Remus, as he much rather would have listened to that than try to evade James more.
“Come and stay with me. Please. The house is going to be too empty without Mum and Dad.”
Such a statement drew Remus up short. It wasn’t often that any of them—James especially—brought up the somewhat recent passing of Mr. and Mrs. Potter. To anyone that wasn’t a Marauder or Lily Evans, James probably appeared entirely unaffected by this tragedy. Remus was one of those few that knew better, and the pity he felt for his close friend was almost enough to change his mind…almost being the key word.
“James, you know very well that I can’t,” he said. “It wouldn’t be safe for you all.”
“I’ve been told that before. We’ll work out something again. Simple as that.”
“How? There is no more Whomping Willow. No more Forbidden Forest. If I get loose there, who knows where I’ll end up or who I’ll hurt? It’s time I went my own way.”
The expression on James’ face made it quite clear that he wanted to argue the point. Seven years had seen Remus become very skilled at knowing exactly what his friends were thinking when the subject of his “furry little problem” arose. To his surprise, however, James then sighed and clapped a hand to his shoulder.
“All right, then. Have it your way. But keep us posted, will you? Got to know where you’re staying so the owl can get you your invitation. And [Name]’s, of course.”
“[Name]’s? Why are you and Lily inviting [Name]?”
James’ eyebrows rose so high that they nearly vanished into his tousled hair. “She’s your plus one, isn’t she?”
“I don’t believe so,” Remus said carefully. “We haven’t discussed it.”
“Remus, you didn’t!”
Either Sirius had won his argument with Peter or lost interest in it entirely. He stared at Remus as though he’d grown a second head again. His cheeks growing warm, Remus did his best to avoid Sirius’ gaze. Of course, he would be the one to realize what Remus was getting at. If Remus had known Sirius was paying any sort of attention to the conversation, he wouldn’t have said anything about you to James at all.
“Not yet,” Remus said firmly, “but it has to be done.”
“No, it hasn’t.”
“Yes, it does.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“I know why you think it has to be done, but I don’t follow why you’re still going to do it.”
After he removed his glasses, Remus rubbed at his eyes. This reaction was exactly why he had not spoken of his plans regarding you to any of his friends. Leaving Hogwarts marked the end of an era for all of them, but most of all for him. His years of pretending to be the same as his peers were over. He wasn’t surprised that none of them had considered this; as far as the Marauders were concerned, Remus was the same as his peers. Now, as they made their way down the train corridor in search of a free compartment, was not the ideal time to remind Sirius of his mistake, but the sooner they were all enlightened, the better.
“Not everyone feels the same way about—”
“Remus!”
All four boys paused to look about. Remus’ heart sank. Racing toward their group was the very last person he wanted see. Sirius, however, grinned at you and caught Remus’ eye.
“Perfect timing,” he said.
You shot him a curious look. And why not? Sirius and you had never been on the best of terms. It had taken several months for him to finally accept that, while he’d never think you were good enough to date his best friend, you were who his best friend wanted to date. This sudden joy was awfully suspicious, but Sirius ignored Remus’ glare to continue smiling.
“What did you say?” you asked.
“Nothing. Fancy sitting with us on the trip, [Name]? Only we’re still looking for a compartment.”
“No, thank you. I’d rather spend some time alone with Remus, if you lot can spare him.”
“They can spare me,” Remus said quickly, before any of his friends could get ideas. “Let’s go.”
Just like that, you quit frowning at Sirius, grabbed Remus’ hand, and tugged him the way he had just come from. He did his best not to look behind himself. This was not enough to prevent Sirius from calling his name before the two of you disappeared.
“I’ll meet up with you later,” Remus said over whatever it was Sirius wanted to say. Then you pulled him behind you into a waiting empty compartment. Only after you slid the door shut did he allow himself to relax.
“Finally. I didn’t think I was going to get to you in time,” you said.
“In time for what?”
A wicked gleam came into your [color] eyes. So preoccupied was he by what he needed to do before the train stopped in London that he did not immediately think to find such a gleam worrisome. You pointed your wand over your shoulder at the handle to the door, muttered a spell to lock it, and pounced.
Remus fell backwards onto the nearest seat as your lips collided with his. This did nothing to stop your momentum, nor did the sound of surprised protest he attempted to make. In fact, both seemed only to encourage you. He found you clambering into his lap before he could do anything to stop you.
This was not the first time he had wound up in such a situation. Although you hardly liked to snog him in front of Sirius (who found great delight in giving you what he considered “pointers”), that hadn’t stopped you from snogging Remus at all. He doubted there was a single nook in all of Hogwarts that you had not pressed him into at some point during the last year and a half. It had taken quite a while for him to grow use to your displays of affections, but it was not in your personality to give up when he did not immediately respond with equal passion. It was for this reason that you didn’t seem to notice he wasn’t kissing you back then either.
“[Name]—”
“Mmm?”
It was very difficult for him to concentrate when you nuzzled his neck like that—something he knew you were well aware of. Then your teeth found his skin. Remus groaned. How many times had he stumbled onto Sirius in this exact same position with a whole variety of girls before sixth year? Though Remus hated to admit it, some part of him—that fully human sliver he could never entirely destroy—had been jealous. He wanted to be able to hold a girl close, to love her and kiss her and provide for her.
You were the answer to his wish. For eighteen months, eighteen horrendous transformations, he had had you. No more. He could not play make believe any longer. Not when he knew the road his life would take once he stepped off the Hogwarts Express for the final time.
Oblivious to his thoughts, you pressed him against the back of his seat with the renewed force of your kissing. You laced your fingers thorough his hair and shifted positions so that you sat against a very specific part of his anatomy. And Remus? Remus just sat there with his hands at sides, allowing the guilt over having tricked you for all that time wash slowly over him.
“Remus? What’s the matter?” When at last you pulled away, your brow was furrowed. A gentle hand lifted to cup his cheek.
He stared down into those wide, beautiful eyes of yours. They were the same wide, beautiful eyes he had fallen for despite his best intentions after having buried his conscience as far down as it could go. Those eyes would never be passed down to children with him in the picture. Neither would your wit or your passion or your dueling skills. You deserved so much more than life with a werewolf.
“We have to stop seeing each other,” he heard himself say, as though from a great distance.
The fingers against his scalp contracted in surprise. Then the weight on his lap disappeared. Your situations reversed; now you stared down at him. Your face had gone paler than its usual shade.
“You’re breaking up with me?”
“Yes.”
Tears sparkled at corners of your eyes, but you blinked them furiously away. “Why?”
“Because we’re leaving school.”
“That’s no reason!”
His heart had never hammered as hard it did then, not even on the full moon. The hurt on your face pained him more than full moons did, too. Remus couldn’t let you know that. You were far, far too kind to let him off the hook if you knew just how badly he wanted to stay right there, kissing you on the Hogwarts Express for the rests of eternity.
“Tell me, what is a good reason for me to break up with you?” he asked carefully.
“How about if you’ve decided you don’t love me anymore?”
That drew his calculated cool demeanor to a halt.
“Well?” you prompted him.
Remus swallowed. “Well, what?”
“Can you look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me anymore?”
He tried. Truly, he did. But as soon as his eyes met yours again, all was lost. He managed a vague, “I don’t…” before he had to look away again.
“I thought so. Why don’t you give something else a try? Did Sirius put you up to this? Did your friends think it would be funny if you made me cry?”
“Actually, they’re very disappointed that I intend to break up with you at all.”
“Then why are you doing it?” you demanded.
“We’ve talked about this, [Name]. I can’t support myself outside of Hogwarts. I haven’t got any prospects.”
“No one does. There’s a bloody war going on, in case you haven’t noticed!”
“It’s not just that. You would be in danger—”
“When would I not? No one is exactly thriving just now. I don’t have a job lined up either.”
“I’m not worried about the war,” he said imploringly.
You took the chance where you saw it. Sensing his weakness, you touched his face for a second time. “Then what are you worried about, Remus? What’s going on?”
This was it. Now or never. He would much rather you hear the news from him than through the grapevine, no matter how much it hurt to have to reveal the extent of his dishonesty to your face. Remus took an enormous breath and answered:
“I’m a werewolf.”
What color remained in your features drained away. He braced himself for the impact of a stunning spell—or something far worse. Whatever it was, he would not lift a hand to stop you. But no spell ever hit him. Instead of speaking any incantation, you let out a solitary sob.
“This isn’t funny,” you said in a shaking voice.
“No,” he agreed.
“I’m going to kill them. I know they’ve never liked me, but this is a step too far. And to think, you went along with them!”
Sighing, he gingerly removed your hand from his face. “No one put me up to this. I am a werewolf. I have been since I was a child. I was bitten before school—”
“No! Stop lying! If you wanted to break up with me this badly—”
“Professor Dumbledore knew,” Remus went on calmly, acting as though you had not interrupted and were not attempting to wrench your wrist free of his grip. “He’s the reason I got to come to school at all. He planted the Whomping Willow and built a tunnel to the shack in Hogsmeade underneath it. I went there every full moon so I wouldn’t hurt anyone when I transformed.”
“Stop it! Stop it!”
“Everyone thinks that shack is haunted because they heard me screaming in there. I was always exhausted after. That’s why I looked so sick every month:. Because I was getting ready to change, and recovering from it. No one could know. I didn’t tell anyone. But I’m registered with the Ministry. I won’t be able to get a job now, and soon everyone will know the truth.”
By the time he finished, you were sobbing. He let you go at last, and you covered your face. Doing so did not prevent him from hearing your whimpers. Tiny shivers wracked your body. To think, only moments ago, you had been kissing him like your life depended on it. Remus had expected you to cry when he told you the truth. He just hadn’t anticipated feeling so awful about it.
“[Name]…” He reached for your shoulder, only to have you wrench it away from him.
“Don’t touch me, you monster!” you snarled.
The kind light in your eyes had died away. A look of absolute hatred replaced it. Seeing that made Remus’ insides twist around like they wanted to expunge themselves of the toast and pumpkin juice he had eaten for breakfast. He dropped his arm.
“I can’t believe I loved you,” you said softly. “I can’t believe we kissed.”
What was there to say to something like that? You were right. None of this ever should have happened. Remus should have known to keep his distance. People like you deserved better than people like him. He was a monster. There was no getting around that, nor was there any getting around the fact he had been a monster since you met.
Remus stood. “I’m…sorry.”
You did not reply. The renewed sounds of your crying followed him back out into the train corridor. Heads turned to follow him as Remus hurried back toward where he had last seen his friends. He had to find them before things took a turn for the worst. Thank God one of the doors slid open to reveal James, Peter, and Sirius waiting for him shortly thereafter—but it wasn’t soon enough.
“You’re not sorry!”
He turned. You had exited your compartment and now stood with blazing eyes in the middle of the hall. No one said a word. One could have heard a quill drop, had you not been breathing like a winded hippogriff with the force of your disgust. Sniffling, you ran your arm over your nose then shouted:
“You’re not sorry, but you will be, werewolf!”
A chorus of surprised noises erupted from every person in the vicinity. Everyone twisted in their seat to see just who you were hurling such an accusation at. Whispers filled the corridor. Then someone—James or Sirius—snatched Remus’ arm and yanked him into their apartment, where they pulled the blind and used the same locking charm you had earlier. Even Peter had the wits about him to cast Muffliato before the pounding could begin.
No one said a word. All three men seemed incapable of finding anything encouraging to say in light of the current situation. Remus didn’t mind. After a few minutes of silence, he moved to look out the window. He was not surprised by your reaction, nor by the reaction of any of the others on the Hogwarts Express. It had only been a matter of time before everyone found out anyway. There was no pity necessary. This was his life now, and always should have been. At least then, perhaps, he would have left one less broken girl behind in his path of destruction.