Work Text:
September 1, 1975
Dear Friend,
I’m not sure who you are, or if you’ll ever read this, but I need someone to talk to, even if it’s just parchment and ink.
Today marks the beginning of my fifth year at Hogwarts. The train ride was the usual chaos—James and Sirius were up to their antics, Peter laughed at every joke, and I sat by the window, watching the countryside blur past.
I sometimes feel like an observer in my own life, like a ghost drifting through the corridors of the castle.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
September 15, 1975
Dear Friend,
Classes have resumed, and with them, the familiar rhythm of spells, potions, and essays.
James is still obsessed with Evans. He talks about her constantly, devising elaborate plans to win her over. Sirius encourages him, of course, while Peter nods along. 
I often wonder what it would be like to be the object of someone’s affection, to have someone look at me the way James looks at Lily.
But then I remember what I am, and I push those thoughts away.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
October 3, 1975
Dear Friend,
The full moon approaches, and with it, the dread that settles in my bones.
Madam Pomfrey has prepared the Shrieking Shack, as always. It’s a lonely place, filled with echoes and pain and isolation. 
But this time, something changed. James, Sirius, and Peter insisted on accompanying me. They’ve been practicing the Animagus transformation in secret, determined to be there for me.
I tried to dissuade them, fearing for their safety, but they wouldn’t listen.
Their loyalty terrifies me.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
October 10, 1975
Dear Friend,
They did it.
They transformed—James into a stag, Sirius into a dog, and Peter into a rat. 
They stayed with me through the night, their presence a balm to the beast.
For the first time, I wasn’t alone.
I don’t know how to express the gratitude I feel. Words seem insufficient.
But I fear what this means. If they can do this, what else are they capable of?
Yours,
Remus
⸻
November 1, 1975
Dear Friend,
The days grow shorter, and the castle is cloaked in autumn’s chill.
Sirius has been distant lately. He spends hours in the library, poring over books on family lineage and dark magic.
I worry about him. His family is notorious for their pure-blood supremacy, and I fear the weight of their expectations bears down on him.
I wish he would talk to me, let me in.
But I understand the need for silence.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
December 25, 1975
Dear Friend,
Christmas at Hogwarts is a quiet affair. Most students have gone home, but I stayed behind, as did Sirius.
We exchanged gifts—he gave me a leather-bound journal, and I gave him a collection of Muggle poetry.
We sat by the fire, sipping hot cocoa, and for a moment, the world felt warm and safe.
He smiled at me, and I felt something stir within me, something I dare not name.
But it’s there, lingering in the spaces between words and glances.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
January 10, 1976
Dear Friend,
The new term has begun, and with it, the return of routine.
James is still pursuing Lily, who remains unimpressed. Peter is struggling with Transfiguration, and Sirius… Sirius is as enigmatic as ever.
I find myself watching him when he isn’t looking, memorizing the curve of his smile, the way his hair falls into his eyes.
I know it’s foolish, dangerous even, but I can’t help it.
I wonder if he knows.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
February 14, 1976
Dear Friend,
Valentine’s Day is a spectacle of pink and red, of fluttering notes and blushing cheeks.
I received a card from an anonymous sender. It was simple, adorned with a sketch of a moon and stars.
I have a suspicion it was from Sirius, but I can’t be certain.
I didn’t mention it to anyone. Some things are better kept secret.
But I pressed the card between the pages of my journal, a keepsake of a moment that felt like hope.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
March 3, 1976
Dear Friend,
The Gryffindor common room buzzes with talk of the upcoming Quidditch match against Slytherin.
James is strategizing, Sirius is mocking the Slytherin team, and Peter is nervously biting his nails.
I sit in the corner, pretending to read, but my thoughts are elsewhere.
I can’t shake the feeling that something is changing, shifting beneath the surface.
I catch Sirius looking at me sometimes, his gaze intense, searching.
I wonder what he sees.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
April 1, 1976
Dear Friend,
April Fools’ Day is a Marauders’ holiday.
James and Sirius orchestrated a prank that turned the Slytherin common room into a swamp.
Professor McGonagall was not amused, but I couldn’t help but laugh.
Later, Sirius pulled me aside, his eyes gleaming with mischief. 
“We make a good team, Moony,” he said. 
I smiled, my heart pounding.
“We always have,” I replied.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
May 5, 1976
Dear Friend,
Exams loom on the horizon, and the library is filled with frantic students.
I find solace in the quiet, the rustle of pages, the scent of old parchment.
Sirius joins me sometimes, pretending to study but mostly doodling in the margins of his notes.
Yesterday, he drew a sketch of the four of us as our Animagus forms, with me in the center.
He handed it to me with a grin.
“For you, Moony,” he said.
I tucked it into my journal, a treasure among words.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
June 20, 1976
Dear Friend,
The school year has ended, and the castle feels empty.
James and Peter have gone home, but Sirius is staying with me for the summer.
His family has disowned him, and my parents welcomed him with open arms.
We spend our days exploring the countryside, our nights talking under the stars.
Last night, he kissed me.
It was soft, tentative, filled with unspoken questions.
I kissed him back.
For the first time, I feel seen.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
August 31, 1976
Dear Friend,
Tomorrow, we return to Hogwarts for our sixth year.
Sirius and I have spent the summer learning each other, navigating the delicate dance of affection and secrecy.
We haven’t told James or Peter. Not yet.
But I think I’m okay with that for now.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
September 5, 1976
Dear Friend,
We’re back at Hogwarts now.
The weather is still warm, but the air smells of books and promise.
James hasn’t changed. He strutted onto the train like he owned it, dragging Sirius along, loud and radiant.
Sirius shot me a look when no one was watching. It was quick, like a wink, but heavier somehow. A weight we both carried.
We haven’t talked about the kiss. Or the three that came after. Or the one when we fell asleep under the willow by the lake.
He’s still Sirius. And I’m still… watching from the corner.
But maybe, just maybe, he’s looking back.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
September 18, 1976
Dear Friend,
We had our first full moon since returning.
They all came again. James galloped through the trees. Peter scurried underbrush. Sirius barked beside me, warm and steady.
I don’t transform in pain anymore. Not when they’re there.
But after… I changed back, and Sirius sat with me until morning. He let me rest my head on his chest, even though I was shaking and bleeding and didn’t feel human at all.
“I like you like this,” he whispered.
I think he meant it.
But I didn’t ask what he meant by this. I was afraid of the answer.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
October 1, 1976
Dear Friend,
I read a poem today in Muggle Studies. It reminded me of Sirius.
“Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds…”
I think that’s why I haven’t told him I love him yet. I’m scared it will alter things.
What if he doesn’t love me back?
What if he does?
He’s so bright sometimes, it hurts to look directly at him.
And I’m the moon, friend. I shine only when someone else reflects me.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
October 30, 1976
Dear Friend,
Sirius punched Lucius Malfoy in the jaw today.
Lucius said something about blood traitors and “unnatural preferences.”
I was only five or so steps away when it happened, but Sirius heard it first.
He didn’t even hesitate.
James hauled them apart. McGonagall gave Sirius detention for a week.
But that night, in the dormitory, Sirius sat next to me on my bed, his knuckles swollen.
“I don’t care what they say,” he said.
“I know,” I whispered.
But I wanted to say thank you. And I’m scared. And I think you make me feel brave.
But I didn’t.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
November 12, 1976
Dear Friend,
We kissed in the Astronomy Tower.
It was raining, and we were both soaked, laughing like idiots.
I told him I loved him. He froze for a second, the rain dripping off his lashes.
Then he kissed me again.
“I think I do too,” he said.
I didn’t correct him. Not then.
I know he’s not ready for words like that.
He holds me differently now. Gentler, maybe. Or more certain.
We still haven’t told James or Peter. We joke in public, tease each other like always.
But sometimes, I catch his fingers brushing mine when no one’s looking.
Sometimes, I think I could live in those moments forever.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
December 24, 1976
Dear Friend,
Christmas at my house is quieter this year.
Sirius is staying with us again. My parents love him, though I think my mum suspects something. She smiles a lot when we’re near each other.
We exchanged presents last night. I gave him a Muggle mixtape I charmed to play without a device.
He gave me a silver ring engraved with the Marauders’ initials.
He didn’t say what it meant. He didn’t have to.
We sat on the roof under the stars.
“I want this, Moony,” he said. “Even if I don’t know how to be good at it.”
“You don’t have to be good,” I told him.
“You just have to stay.”
Yours,
Remus
⸻
January 3, 1977
Dear Friend,
We returned to school in snow and silence.
James is suspicious. I can tell.
He asked me if I was okay.
I said yes.
He said, “You and Sirius seem… close lately.”
I laughed too loudly.
James gave me a strange look, like he wanted to ask more, but didn’t.
Sirius and I agreed not to tell anyone yet. Not even James.
I think Sirius is afraid.
And I understand that.
Because I am too.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
February 14, 1977
Dear Friend,
He asked me to be his valentine.
Right in the middle of the library, like a lunatic.
I blushed so hard I had to hide behind a stack of Herbology texts.
He left a rose on my desk in Charms.
James asked if Sirius had hit his head.
Peter just shrugged.
We went for a walk after curfew. Sirius kept bumping my shoulder with his. He didn’t stop smiling.
That night, we kissed under the invisibility cloak in the corridor outside the Hufflepuff common room.
I think I’ve never felt more alive.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
March 28, 1977
Dear Friend,
We told James.
He laughed. Then blinked. Then said, “Wait, seriously?”
Sirius smacked him.
Then James grinned and said, “Took you long enough.”
We didn’t stop smiling the rest of the night.
Peter found out too. He said, “Cool,” and went back to his Butterbeer.
I think we were more afraid of their reaction than we needed to be.
They’re our friends. They love us.
Sirius held my hand in the dorm that night. Just for a moment.
It felt like the world was catching up with us, and this time, it wasn’t scary.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
May 1, 1977
Dear Friend,
The world is changing.
There’s talk of Voldemort more often. Attacks. Murders. Fear.
The castle feels different—like it knows what’s coming.
We’re supposed to be preparing for N.E.W.T.s, for jobs, for life after this.
But some nights, I lie awake and wonder if any of it will matter.
Sirius says we’ll fight. That we’ll join the Order and stand against the darkness.
I want to believe him.
I want to believe we’ll have a future to protect.
Yours,
Remus
⸻
June 15, 1977
Dear Friend,
We graduated today.
Sirius kissed me behind the Quidditch stands.
Peter took a picture of all four of us, arms wrapped around each other.
The sky was gold.
I don’t know what’s coming next.
But I have this moment.
I have them.
I have him.
And maybe…
Maybe that’s enough.
Always,
Remus