Chapter Text
— CHAPTER TWENTY —
New Moon Again
On the Seventh Day of Galwain, Remus found himself crouched alone at the fringe of the Forbidden Forest. Everyone else, parent, teacher and child, was celebrating elsewhere (attending Slughorn’s workshop on seven violet-coloured potions which looked similar yet did different things – something that had amassed a huge audience, incredibly.) Remus instead sat in a patch of toadstools, lifting each one to his face to peer at it with narrowed eyes. It was tedious work, but he shouldn’t complain.
He was just in the middle of spraying a suspicious looking mushroom with a bit of water when someone asked, “What are you doing?”
His head jerked up in surprise. It was Lily, her red hair in dramatic contrast to her violet-coloured robes she was wearing for today’s festivities. Her pretty freckled face was folded into a deep frown and her arms were crossed across her body.
“Oh, I’m sorting Horklumps from mushrooms,” he said, brushing the dirt off his trousers as he stood, “for Kettleburn.”
“You actually volunteered for that?” she said, one dark eyebrow raised.
“No,” he admitted, finger playing with the trigger of the spray bottle, “but after I confessed to him that I’d been using my Whispering all year in class, he said there was no better punishment than this.” He watched her eyes widen just a fraction. “No Whispering allowed, of course.”
It didn’t take long for her to harden her expression once more. “So you told him that you’ve been a cheat the whole year.”
“Yes. I thought it was only right, especially after you opened my eyes to it,” said Remus, setting down the spray bottle. “He said he’s figuring out what that means for my marks this year, even though I promised I didn’t cheat during the test. But for now I’ll have to do chores for him, and next year, as well.”
“I see,” said Lily neutrally. “I don’t see any of your twit friends here.”
Remus toed the dirt-packed earth uncomfortably.
Her jade green gaze was unrelenting. “You didn’t tell Kettleburn that you cheated for your friends as well, did you?”
“Come on, they’re not so bad–”
“No, Remus, that’s not the point, innit?” she said, her voice cutting across his like a blade. “I’m allowed to think it’s unfair that your friends are allowed to get away with just one more thing, on account of their privilege. Wasn’t your whole stupid speech talking about ending injustice in wizarding society? Maybe you should start making changes in your own life before trying to change the world.”
“Lily, I–”
“No, it’s fine,” she said, but she didn’t seem to be talking to Remus. She took a second to compose herself. “What’s the point of whining about solving injustice? I have to work hard to ensure I can overcome the world’s unfairness. Onto the next thing, I say.”
The last thing being Galwain.
“On that topic…” began Remus, not finding it in him to look her straight in the eyes. “I’m sorry about interrupting the play. It wasn’t my intention to ruin all the hard work you put into directing it.”
“That’s actually why I came to find you, to talk about this.” There was something terrible and great about how Lily’s glare, despite Remus’s attempt at averting it, burned brighter than yesterday’s fire. “I don’t forgive you, Remus.”
Had something shifted in the air in the spaces between them, or had it been shifting for a long while and it had just taken Remus too long to notice? When had Lily’s eyes started signalling resentful loathing instead of warm affection? Remus wasn’t sure how or when it had happened, but it was that day that he realised an irrevocable rift had splintered itself between him and his first friend.
“Lils–”
She threw up a pale hand to silence him. “I will forgive you, one day. But not now, and not for a long while. You knew how much the play meant to me, how important it was for me to be able to get ahead. I could’ve made connections with important people. But now I’m back to square zero.”
He was reminded of James’s father’s words that day he had first arrived at his house: some things are more important than friendship. Had his words been correct? Or was it that some things were more important than some friendships?
“I would rather focus on other things than a one-sided relationship, Remus,” she said. It was cruel and cold, but heart-wrenchingly fair.
Then she turned without looking back, and Remus was left with mere mushrooms for company.
Once Remus had separated enough toadstools from Horklumps that he was able to do it with just a glance, Kettleburn finally relieved him of his Horklump-sorting duties, but not without sternly promising him a year’s worth of work for him when fourth year started in a few months. Sighing, Remus headed back to his dorm room to change into festive clothing. Perhaps he could enjoy the last few hours of the Sennight with his friends.
There, the Marauders were lounging about on their beds.
“What are you lot doing here?” asked Remus as he entered, self-consciously shrugging off his dirty robes. “Shouldn’t you be outside watching Slughorn’s potions showcase?”
Sirius rolled his eyes and leaned back against his pillows in an insolent manner only he could pull off. He was already clad in his violet robes, which offset his dark hair and grey eyes nicely. “Now why would we do that? Do you take us for masochists, Lupin?”
“We were waiting for you, git,” said James, jumping up from his place next to Peter to give Remus a good-natured rub of the head. “We can’t go celebrate without you, our resident celebrity!”
“Celebrity?” asked Remus, shoving him away and rifling through his trunk for new clothing.
Sirius gave a bark of laughter.
“You should hear the things they’re saying about you,” said James gleefully. “Loopy Lupin, Muggle-hugger–”
He swivelled around. “Muggle-hugger–”
“They think you’re some fairy-obsessed dreamlander,” Sirius said, a smirk gracing his face. “I even heard someone call you moony. Hey, that’s not such a bad nickname, is it?”
Remus felt his face burn with embarrassment and turned back to his trunk and belongings. Of course he’d hoped to garner attention once he took to the stage and gave his passionate speech about fairy’s rights – but more so in terms of policy change, not petty high school gossip and name calling.
“It’s a good thing,” assured James once he saw Remus’s face. “It’s a very Marauder-like reputation you’re building for yourself.”
“Yeah,” assured Sirius. “Nobody’s ever going to call you a lapdog again. You are now the biggest mischief maker now out of the four of us.”
Peter, who had said nothing the entire time, said, “We should probably head down soon. It’s almost sunset and the celebrations are going to end.”
“Right,” said Remus, who grabbed a pair of violet robes and went to the bathroom to change.
Once he was done, the Marauders headed down to the Hogwarts grounds, where violet was the colour of the day. Beautiful arrays of flowers in all shades of violet purple – wisteria, lavender, lilac, violet flowers – sprouted from new bushes along pathways, under arches, and inside doorways. Tables with royal purple coverings displayed joke potion vials of different sizes and shapes with violet liquids glowing inside them, waiting for passersby to try out their funny temporary effects. Remus watched and laughed when James chugged one and his ears grew to the size of books.
It was hard to enjoy the festivities though, when everyone seemed to be staring at him. Students and their parents, food plates and drink cups in their hands, leaned over to whisper to each other as he walked past. Even teachers were glancing his way. Mudaliar unfortunately was nowhere to be seen; he’d look for her later. Steeling himself, he tried to ignore them.
Though there was one glower he couldn’t ignore. A couple of metres away was Severus, who was tailing a pack of Slytherin third year boys. The glare on his face was one of pure hatred, and the worst part was that Severus wasn’t glaring at James or Sirius, the two of the Marauders he normally reserved his dislike for. This time, he was looking directly at Remus.
“What are you staring at, Snivellus?” snapped James suddenly, startling everyone nearby. “Want to try out this potion so your ears can match your bug eyes?”
Titters broke out amongst the third year crowd, Sirius loudest of them all. Severus gave Remus one last lingering glare and turned away.
“What was that?” asked Sirius later when they were grabbing food and drinks. “Thought you said Severus isn’t that bad or whatnot.”
“I was wrong,” said James simply. “Being nice to everyone is a pain. Think I should only be good to those that deserve it.” He gave Remus a little wink.
“Right on, mate,” said Sirius, clapping him on the back. “Oi, want to check out the lavender cakes?”
James and Sirius left. Beside Remus, Peter sipped idly on a drink. They were silently standing in line for a food stall, Remus juggling his coin purse in his hands nervously.
“Alright?” asked Remus after he had finally mustered the courage to do so.
He expected Peter to lash out at him like Lily had done, to yell at him for crushing his dreams. But all he said was, “Oh, yes, I’m alright.”
“I heard there was a field trip next year,” said Remus, trying to make conversation whilst they waited in the queue. “We might be going to France apparently. French wizards like theatre apparently. Perhaps we can go see a show while we’re there.”
“What?” said Peter. “No, I’m not interested in that stuff anymore.”
“What? Why not?”
Peter made a non-committal noise while sipping his drink. “Oh, I don’t know …. I’ll be too busy focusing on Quidditch.”
The line moved forward and Remus almost tripped over. “You’re going to try out for the team again?”
Peter shrugged. “Why not? Sirius tried again and he got in the second time.”
“Yeah, but,” said Remus, “you were really good at theatre, you know. And you enjoyed it. Maybe you could join the Hogwarts drama club.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Oh … okay.” He stuttered when he saw Peter’s look. “That’s surprising, is all.”
“What’s so surprising?” When Remus couldn’t give an answer, Peter said, “You know, Remus. You’ve surprised me too recently. I couldn’t believe it when you actually burned down the statue yesterday.”
Peter chuckled to himself and Remus laughed along nervously, hoping nobody had heard. The Marauders had gotten away with the statue’s burning, for now.
“But something shocked me even more,” continued Peter chattily. “Remember when you said you were fine with being the Marauders’ lapdog, as long as you belonged? And remember, I said that, sure, belonging feels good – but I’d rather be the decider of who belongs, rather than the decision.”
Remus nodded slowly.
“I think you were lying,” said Peter, and it felt like a slap to the face. “It doesn’t seem like you’re content at all. You’re a … werewolf … living decently in wizarding society, that’s your belonging right there, but then you go and do something like fight for fairies. Doesn’t seem like you’re all that happy just to belong, does it?”
Peter was by far the shortest of the Marauders, and yet Remus couldn’t help but feel slightly intimidated.
“So you actually did want to be the decider of who belongs, I get it. But so did I. That’s why I did the play, to show everyone I’m not just a follower. I told you that. So when you ruined the play, you took that away from me. You became the decider, Remus, and I became the decision.”
To say the very least Remus was taken aback. Peter wasn’t a particularly shy boy, but he normally let James or Sirius take the lead in conversations, piping up when he had something to add. Remus had never imagined Peter capable of such ceaseless, caustic remarks. Lily, sure, but Peter? Sweet-faced, chubby-cheeked, squeaky-voiced Pete?
Remus was speechless for several moments. “Pete, I’m sorry,” he said finally.
Peter shrugged. “I’m not. I didn’t want to do the stupid play anyway.”
“Right, but–” But why say all that then?
“You should go order,” interrupted Peter, turning away from him. “You should go order. We’re holding up the line.”
And that was that.
Mudaliar’s office was as clean as it had been the time Remus had snuck in, but not because she had decided to put everything back into place. Rather, the decorations had been stripped from walls, the furniture shoved to the side, and the bed had been made. Three trunks sat in the centre of the room. Mudaliar had her back turned to Remus, rifling through papers on her otherwise pristine desk.
“Hi, Professor,” said Remus, standing at the door.
She turned in surprise. “How lovely to see you, Mr Lupin. Come in. Why aren’t you outside? Aren’t you enjoying this week’s festivities?”
“I guess so,” he said, smiling a little as he walked in. “I’ve been a bit busy lately.”
“Yes,” she said with a smile, setting her parchment aside, “that was a very noble thing you did yesterday.”
“Was it?” Remus’s heart clenched. It certainly hadn’t felt like it.
Wide brown eyes looked at him imploringly. “Yes, Mr Lupin. It was incredible. You have much more bravery than a lot of adults, you know. I didn’t know half the things you were teaching all of us.”
It was a genuine relief to hear. He placed a hand on his chest as he sighed softly. “Thank you.”
“You’re in Gryffindor, yeah?”
“Yes.”
“I think you would’ve done well in Ravenclaw. Clever boy, you are.”
“Maybe,” Remus laughed, but it faded. He bit his lip. “Do you think it did anything, though? My speech? I don’t know … people don’t really seem to be galvanised into action. They just seem confused. I’m not saying I expected people to cheer at me everywhere I went, but I thought the reaction might be a bit more positive.”
She made a face. “Yes, well, that’s par for the course. Change on an individual level is difficult. Change on a societal level is nearly impossible.” She grabbed Remus’s hands comfortingly. “But it is possible. Your speech was a step in the right direction for fairies.”
“Yeah, I guess so. And Jenkins seemed pretty on board, didn’t she?” he remarked hopefully. “She liked what I had to say. Perhaps she’ll help out the fairies like she said she would.”
“Don’t put too much hope in politicians, Remus,” she said with a sorrowful smile. “The best thing a politician does is disappoint. But yes, maybe she’ll incite some change for the fairies’ situations, who knows.”
Remus nodded. “If she wins the ministerial election, that is.”
“Well, if your speech did one thing and one thing only only,” said Mudaliar with a grin, “then it was this.”
She brandished a piece of parchment in Remus’s face. He only caught a glimpse but the title read: MALFOY, MURDERER? Read all about the perilous poison found in his son’s possession…
“Read it in the Quibbler later, yeah? And make sure you tell your mates to spread the word,” she said, waving the piece of parchment. “It’s being sent out to Wigmund tomorrow morning, just days before the election. I think this’ll secure an easy victory for Jenkins once Malfoy’s dirty laundry has been aired once and for all.”
“That’s amazing!” gushed Remus.
“And check it out,” she said, pointing to the author’s name under the article’s headline. In bold-faced print it read ‘MELINDA M. MUDALIAR, also known as The Meddler. Also known as the author of The Light at Midnight series.’
Remus felt the grin on his face widen even further. “Professor, you did it!”
“I did! Just you wait, I’ll write an article about your antics too, the way you went on about fairies’ rights in front of the election candidates.” She glanced at her draft news article again and sighed happily. “With my name on the front cover, it’ll send waves in the community. I’m a famous author, if you didn’t know.” She winked.
Remus laughed. “Okay, but, what about your publisher?”
“Oh, bugger them! Oops, I’m not supposed to swear in front of students. Well, they’re not an issue now. They have nothing on me anymore, now that I’ve revealed my secret identity.”
“Brilliant! But … won’t you be made a pariah now?”
She nodded, but she didn’t seem too upset about it. “Look, you inspired me, Mr Lupin. When you were giving that speech without giving a single damn – pardon my Hindi – about what you were disrupting, I realised how important it is to do things that way. Even if everyone thinks you’re absolutely nutters. The catharsis is indeed worth the consequences.”
“Wow. You’re an inspiration, Professor.”
“Thank you. Now I can finally write what I want to!”
Remus hesitated. “But … what does this mean for your teaching position at Hogwarts?”
She looked at him a little sadly, then turned to look at her trunks. The spotless room.
“I’m sorry, Mr Lupin. Teaching was never my calling. I know the past few weeks were fun and I was really improving, but now that I’m free, I have to pursue what I want to, you know?”
It was saddening that another stellar Defence teacher was leaving, but he understood. “I get it. You were a great teacher, Professor.”
“And you’re a great kid, Remus,” she said, patting him on the head.
As he was leaving, he asked, “Professor, were you in Gryffindor when you went to Hogwarts?”
“Nope. I was in Ravenclaw. Why do you ask?”
“I think you would’ve done well in Gryffindor.”
She nodded and smiled. “Maybe.”
He was just leaving Mudaliar’s office when a little chirp came down the hallway. Remus peered; at the end of the corridor was a little hummingbird looking at Remus expectantly. He laughed, and followed it as it hopped inside a classroom.
Inside was Oberon and Robin, the king and his knight. They had both shrunk to the size of normal humans, making for a very jarring sight. With their legs dangling off desks they reminded Remus of schoolchildren.
Today Oberon was clad in his favourite colour, a deep violet purple. But he didn’t look like a king; his robes were loose and slithered casually around his lithe muscular frame. His hair was tied lazily in a bun, and his eyes were a gentle gold, like the molten colour the sun took when it set for the day. Robin had abandoned his knight’s armour, dressed equally as casually as his king, wearing a light brown tunic like the colour of acacia. He had no sword by his side, just a smile on his young face.
“This is what you humans use as learning establishments?” grumbled Oberon, looking around, picking up a chair with one hand. “No wonder you are all so unintelligent.”
“Oh, don’t be such a grump,” said Robin, a gentle hand on Oberon’s broad shoulder. “Forgive him, Remus.”
“Your highness,” said Remus, bowing. “Robin.”
“None of that,” snapped Oberon. “I think you have earnt the right to call me Oberon now.”
Remus, who didn’t think he would ever do that, nodded and smiled.
“That was a very stupid thing you did, by the way,” said Oberon and Robin rolled his eyes at his king. “Summoning me, exposing my truth to a crowd of good-for-nothing wizards. I could’ve smote you down, right there and then.”
Remus gulped.
“But it was also very brave,” added Robin with a comforting nod in Remus’s direction. “That’s what you meant, Obie, yes?”
Oberon nodded, a ghost of a smile on his beautiful face. “It was very brave. I cannot thank you enough. You have told the truth that wizards refused to hear for years.”
Remus shook his head solemnly. “I’m unsure about that. Your highness, Robin – I have little faith that my words will make a large impact amongst wizards. I don’t know if they’ll suddenly start treating fairies right.”
Oberon waved a bony pale hand in the air, sending wind whooshing around the room. The breeze whistled past Remus’s ears.
“That isn’t the point, my child. I know that it’ll take more than the simple truth to fix a lifetime of lies. But the most important thing was that you showed me that there are good wizards out there like yourself, who want to fix the world. And that is certainly something.”
Remus bowed his head. “It was the least I could do, really.”
“No, the least you could have done was nothing,” said Oberon, staring out the window to his left. Outdoors, there were people playing in the distance, enjoying the Sennight festivities while it lasted. “That is what most people in power do: nothing.”
Remus, who had never thought of himself as someone in power, was surprised by this.
“Oh, Obie’s understating the magnitude of what you did, human,” said Robin with a grin, swinging forward like a little kid. “He was so appalled you had the gall to summon him without his permission to the human realm. But when he came back – oh, you should’ve seen it, kiddo – he was smiling! Can you believe it? This old man, smiling? This man that was trying to get you to erase everyone’s memories?”
“Enough of that,” said Oberon over Remus’s nervous laughter, though he too looked quite happy. The fairy king’s gaze landed on Remus’s. “No, truly, my child, you have taught me much. You inspired me! When I saw how much you wanted to change the world, I could only think: how have I been alive so long and yet not done the same?”
Remus didn’t know what to say, but Oberon ploughed on.
“I’ve decided to be a better ruler. I know it sounds absurd, but I believe I can make a difference. Can you believe you, a human, were the one to tell me about the Forbidden Forest pixies and their habitat problems? I should have been there for my subjects.” Oberon shook his head.
“You’re doing great so far, Obie,” said Robin encouragingly. “Look, you’ve made it here, haven’t you?”
Remus’s eyes widened when he realised. “Oh, my Godric, you’re right! You’re here! Isn’t this–”
“–the first time I’ve been in the human realm in a very long time?” Oberon nodded. “Yes. It looks so different than when Galwain lived here, doesn’t it?”
Robin nodded. “Much has changed since Galwain.”
The corner of Oberon’s lip twitched. “You have also taught me, human, that my clinging to the past is perhaps not the best route of action. Robin has been trying to tell me forever, I know, but I have been blind. It is my fatal flaw, you know; that is what the Hamartia Hollow told me. My inability to move on. But I am trying.”
“You are,” said Robin.
“I suppose I’ve been so focused on the past that I forgot to see what the present provided,” said Oberon, placing his hand in Robin’s.
“Yes.” Robin’s eyes glittered. “You are quite stupid, aren’t you?”
After a sweet but awkward silence, Remus jolted when he realised something else.
“Oh – but what about Galwain?” Remus said hurriedly. “It’s July 7th, the seventh day of the seventh month. Shouldn’t you be with him right now?”
Oberon shook his head. “Don’t worry. He’s waiting for me back in the Feyrie. God knows how much waiting I do for him; he can wait a bit for me. You see, I have been with him since sunrise, all day, and I will be with him when he goes at sunset. Robin and I will get to say our goodbyes.”
“The sun is going to take its leave soon,” said Robin warningly, glancing out the window.
“I wish you could’ve met Galwain, human,” said Oberon, jumping off the desk like a cat. “He would’ve liked you.”
Remus smiled. “Thank you.”
“Don’t forget us,” said Robin cheerily, looping his arm in Oberon’s.
“Never.” He caught his breath, not wanting them to go, but not wanting to hold them up. “Will I … get to see you two again?”
Robin looked at Oberon, who simply said, “Oh, yes, Remus. You have been a good friend to us. We will see each other again.”
And they were gone, like a dream. This one, Remus would never forget.
At sunset, when the sun kissed the earth, rendering the world aglow with violet and orange, everybody gathered to watch the end of Galwain’s Sennight. Some found seats in the Astronomy Tower, legs dangling off the balconies high above. Others tried to recreate the Wednesday fireworks, shooting up colourful sparkles of light that exploded in the sky and elicited scattered laughs and cheers below. The Marauders chose to sit on the lawn, lazing about amongst many other children and parents. Remus liked to think that Oberon and Galwain were speaking now in hushed tones, embracing each other in the golden hour of the day, of the year.
“It’s pretty,” said Remus wistfully, looking at the lake turned violet as the sun burned out.
“Feeling romantic, are we?” said James cheekily. He was lying down beside Remus, propped up by his elbows.
“Shh,” hissed Remus. “Someone will hear you.”
James grinned. “Don’t worry. They’re messing about over there, it’s fine.”
Sirius and Peter were, true to his word, making fools of themselves at Slughorn’s potions table, trying to see what the leftovers did.
“I’m not really scared about them finding out,” said Remus. “It’s him I’m worried about.”
He subtly pointed his thumb to where Frank and Alice were, revoltingly, cuddled on a picnic blanket a few metres away from them.
“What?” James was dumbfounded. “What are you talking about?”
Did he really have to spell it out for him? “James. I don’t want the boy I have a crush on finding out that I have a crush on him.”
“The boy you– what? Who are you talking about?”
Was James truly one Kingstone’s short of a Gobstones set?
“I’m talking about Frank Longbottom,” said Remus slowly. “Who are you talking about?”
James’s bespectacled eyes widened. “I’m talking about Sirius, mate.”
“What, Sirius Black? Over there?”
“Yeah, what other Sirius do we know, idiot?”
Remus literally laughed. He couldn’t help himself. “You thought, this whole time, that I had a crush on Sirius.”
“Uh, yeah.” James’s smile was pure white against his dark skin.
“What could have possibly possessed you to think that?” said Remus, genuinely amused. “I have a crush on Frank.”
“That’s news to me. I thought you fancied Sirius.”
“How?”
“Well, you’re always talking to him. You’re always looking at him. You’re always touching him – don’t give me that look, I’ve seen you! You read and talk about bloody romance books together. You get mad at him all the time, like you expect him to act like a boyfriend should. You write him letters, for Godric’s sake! I’ve seen the letters you send him – they’re like Valentine’s Day cards.”
“We’re good friends,” hissed Remus, baffled at the way James’s simpleton mind worked. “I do all those things with you and Pete as well!”
James burst out laughing. “Remus, if you treated me the way you treat Sirius, I’d have to turn you down gently, me knowing what I know. Youreally don’t see it at all?”
“No,” said Remus, though he’d be lying if he said James’s words weren’t making him doubt himself. After all James wasn’t a complete idiot, and it was true that Remus liked Sirius the most of all his friends…
“He’s handsome,” James said with a small shrug. “Like, I’m no pouf but even I can admit that Sirius is good looking. Soon all the girls will notice and it’ll be over for you, mate.”
Okay, James was right – that Sirius was attractive. Remus watched the Black boy from afar. It wasn’t like he’d never noticed it before … the way the dying sunlight hit his face alive with laughter … skin darker than Remus’s, golden coloured … his jaw, at once manly and feminine … strong, thick eyebrows … the curve of his nose, neither sharp nor flat … large grey eyes obscured by long, dark eyelashes … hair carelessly long yet effortlessly cool … lips parted as he made a clever joke …
“Look, you’re staring again,” said James with glee.
“Oh, shut it. I do not fancy Sirius.”
“If you say so.” James took his glasses off to clean them on the ends of his violet robes. “If it makes you feel better, I reckon I have a crush too.”
Remus took a sip of his fluxweed flavoured soda. “Who?”
“You’ll never guess. Evans.”
He almost spit out his drink. “What? Are you pulling my leg?”
“No, I’m being honest, mate.” James’s lips were twitching.
Remus scoffed. “As if. Name three reasons you like her.”
“Well…” said James contemplatively, “I fancy her smile. She looks so angry and stressed all the time that it’s nice to see her happy once in a blue moon. I like how ambitious she is. I’ve never met anyone more talented than me until her, and she’s a bloody Muggleborn. And, you know, she’s the prettiest bird in our year.”
“You’re being serious. Oh my Godric, that’s hilarious.”
“Why?” laughed James.
“Because you two are always arguing,” said Remus incredulously. “I couldn’t think of two less compatible people.”
James shoved him into the grass. “Oi, who said anything about compatibility? I just said I fancy her, you little git, not that we’re about to get married.”
Remus was giggling so hard, he couldn’t help himself. “It’s like trying to imagine McGonagall on a date with … Kettleburn.”
James scowled at him. “Like you and Sirius would make such a great couple.”
Remus bristled and shoved him back. “I told you, he’s not who I fancy!”
“What, and you fancy Frank? Am I seriously supposed to believe that?”
“What–? Frank’s great! He’s good looking–” James scoffed at that. “He’s a prefect!”
“Remus, that is a strike against his name–”
Remus gave him a flat look. “Frank’s tall. He’s really, really kind.”
James waved his hand dismissively in the air. “Look, Sirius is all these things too. He’s taller than you, he can be nice when he wants to, he’s way better looking than Longbottom, and on the plus side he’s not a bloody swot.”
Remus laughed. “He is not taller than me; we’re the same height. Plus, why are you selling Sirius to me? It’s not like I’m going to date either of them.”
James sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Just as I won’t date Evans.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t rule that out yet,” said Remus cheekily. “She’s best mates with Severus – means she’s got really poor taste.”
“I’ll kill you,” said James, tackling him to the ground.
Remus tried to fight back. “James–!”
“Oi, idiots!” called Sirius suddenly. He was sauntering over to them with Peter following in his stride. “Let’s ditch the lawn, it’s too crowded here. Why don’t we go climb a tree or something? The view will be better there.”
Remus surrendered.
“By the way, don’t tell them that I fancy Evans,” said James, his face full of gloating as he secured yet another victory in the Potter-Lupin armed conflicts.
“Don’t tell them that I fancy Frank,” Remus, already plotting his revenge against his bespectacled assailant, hissed back.
“Duh.”
“Or,” he added quickly, “according to your deep and tragic delusions, Sirius.”
“Duh.”
And suddenly there was Sirius. He was standing in front of the sunset, eclipsing it so his silhouette was illuminated in a golden and violet halo as if he were a Galwainian artefact. He offered his outstretched palm to Remus.
Remus considered the things James had said. Were there things Remus liked about Sirius? Well, yes. He had a nice smile, it was true. And yes, he was kind, especially when it was just the two of them … taking notes for him, sneaking out with him to buy books, helping him out whenever he asked, readily accepting of Remus’s faults, his lycanthropy … he was brave, speaking his mind honestly, defending Remus no matter the situation, always being there for him even when Remus rejected help, a friend he could rely on … he was clever, keeping up with Remus intellectually, challenging him, a fan of literature … and he was charming, someone that everyone liked, even in the moments when it wasn’t intentional, like when he got jealous, which was oh so endearing …
Remus took his hand.
The Hogwarts Express was more crowded than it was most years. Many parents (“the ones who love their kids,” Sirius had quipped), had decided to take the train with their children back to Kings Cross from Hogwarts, and so Remus and Sirius struggled to find a compartment just for the two of them. Luckily they were able to find an empty one near the back of the train, and so there they were, alone in a compartment of their own.
“I have something for you,” announced Sirius once they’d settled in and the train had begun to rattle along the tracks.
“What is it?”
“Here,” said Sirius, taking a piece of parchment from his pocket and placing it in Remus’s hands. It was a single page of Sirius’s artful handwriting. It read:
✰
16 YEARS LATER…
I’ve always loved the way being single feels. Ever since the Star War ended, I remembered my biggest dream, which was established in Book 1 and I somehow forgot in the sequels: my dream was that I wanted to explore the world. So for a few years I became a nomadic mother, travelling the world with my baby. Of course, she has a really normal name like Penelope, or Freya. I always found naming babies after other people is tacky and overly sentimental.Anyway, Tate, Freya’s father, is still in her life. When high school started I thought it would be best to stop adventuring as much, though in the summer holidays we always visit a new country. Freya attends Hogwash High School, still an old-timey castle of stone and arches, but I make sure to scrutinise every new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and make sure they’re not a murderer or something.
“It’s your Uncle Sai and Uncle Tate,” I say excitedly one day while dropping her off to school. A couple of years ago Sai and Tate adopted their own kid, a boy with an equally normal name, “and your half-brother Declan. Go say hi to them.”
My daughter, smiley and sweet and with none of the self-consciousness I had at her age, runs to her extended family, giving them all hugs. I’m a good parent, even though my parents were never around. Tate and Sai are good dads as well, I can tell. We all show our children so much love, enough that they’ll never doubt it.
“How are you guys?” asks Tate when he walks over to me, planting a kiss on my head. In the sunlight, he looks his age, a man entering the middle years of his life. Once upon a time, I was attracted to him like I couldn’t breathe without him. Now I’m no longer in love with him, and I smile at the thought.
“I’m great. I was just talking to Gobby this morning. Our goblin liberation efforts have been going well; the goblin shelter has never been busier.”
“Oh, that’s awesome. Sai and I were just finishing off the drafts for our speeches in favour of the pro-werewolf legislation,” says Tate with a smile. “Who knew we’d still be fighting the good fight after the war was done?”
“Right?”
“How’s Freya?”
“She’s really excited for school.”
Tate chuckles. “Just wait til she’s in her senior year. Then it’ll be a different story.”
“Oh, I know. How’s Declan?”
“He’s good,” says Tate, looking fondly at Sai looking at Freya and Declan.
“He must be. He has two really good dads.”
Tate smiles at me and loops an arm around my shoulder. “Well, maybe one. The only time I have to do the dishes is when it’s a full moon.”
We laugh together.
I sigh happily. “Sai was always the best of the three of us, wasn’t he?”
“Oh, definitely.”
After a brief but companionable silence, I say, “Isn’t it strange that I once was choosing between the two of you, and now it’s the two of you who chose each other?”
Tate nods with a grin. “It’s a bit ironic, yes. But people are changing all the time.”
“That’s true.” I look at my watch. “Oh, it’s almost nine. School will be starting soon.”
“Is it time to go?” he asks, extending his hand to me.
I look at the family I’ve earned, my best friend Sai and his dorky glasses balanced on his warm face, changed by the war but still my best friend; Tate and his kind eyes; our two children and their happy smiles. I think back to the journey I’ve made to get where I am. I think of all the Defence teachers I’ve had who turned out to be evil, all the brave comrades who fell before their time and names we will always remember, all the changes we’ve made in the world. The brighter sky our children now look up at.
“Yes,” I say, and grab his hand.
Not everything is perfect, but it’s going good.
✰
At the bottom it was signed with a ridiculous flourish: SIRIUS BLACK.
Remus was laughing all the way while reading it. “You rewrote it! So, in the end, Tate and Sai ended up together. Cynthia’s the single one.”
“Yeah, I dunno,” said Sirius with a grin. “We’re always making jokes about how little chemistry Cynthia has with either of them, and that they’d be way more suited as a couple. So I thought it’d be funny.”
“It is funny.”
“Right? Plus, you’re always talking about how shoddy the last instalment was, that Sai being turned into a werewolf was handled pretty poorly. So I rewrote it.”
“I noticed that.” Remus smiled at him. “Thank you for this, Sirius. It’s very thoughtful of you.”
Sirius smirked. “You think I should be an author?”
“Definitely. Drop out of school right now, why don’t you?”
“Believe me, I would if I could.
“Jokes aside, you’re not too bad,” said Remus, glancing down at the page. “I think you’ve got some good jokes in there.”
There was a tilt to Sirius’s smile. “Oh yeah?”
Remus brandished the parchment. “I mean it! You could rival Mudaliar.”
Sirius laughed a breath of air.
“I’m being serious!” Remus folded the parchment and placed it inside his knapsack. “I will cherish this, much more than any copy of The Light At Midnight.”
“Good!”
As the train sped past rolling countryside mountains and valleys that dipped into long lakes and wide rivers, they both sighed at the same time. Then they looked up and laughed.
“What’s got you so sad?” said Remus. Then, teasingly: “Secret for secret?”
“Oi, don’t mock me.” Sirius looked out the window. Remus was astounded by his side profile, his jaw sharp and soft at once, his hair landing gently on his golden, starry skin. “Just worried for the holidays, is all.”
Remus reached over and placed his hand gently on Sirius’s knee. Godric, maybe he did touch Sirius a lot after all.
“I know you can do it,” he said, retracting his hand. “I don’t pretend to know everything about what you’re going through, but I know you can navigate it well. Just know that whatever they have to say about you is wrong.”
Sirius gave a little smile. “Thanks, mate. You alright?”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “It’s just, I’ve been avoiding telling my dad the whole year about you lot knowing that I’m a … you know. I really feel like I should tell him, but every time I think about it, I seize up.”
Sirius made a thoughtful little noise. He opened his trunk and tossed about his belongings carelessly, fishing around for something until he finally pulled it out. It was the trulip petal, the one he had never thrown out.
“Sirius…”
“Take it,” Sirius said.
When Remus hesitated, Sirius leaned over and grabbed both his hands, shoving the petal in Remus’s left palm. Remus looked up, startled, and saw Sirius’s imploring eyes, felt the warm softness of Sirius’s hands cradling Remus’s own. It was a feeling he’d only felt in dreams before; what was he supposed to do now that the line between dreams and reality was blurring?
Remus quickly pulled away. Perhaps James wasn’t so stupid after all.
“It’ll help you, I swear to Galwain,” said Sirius, sitting back in his seat. “Oops, can we still say that?”
Remus quickly recovered. He shook his head and laughed. “I don’t know. Maybe Jenkins will outlaw it when she becomes Minister.”
“Yeah … the world’s really changing, huh?”
Remus looked out the train window. Tomorrow, Mudaliar’s article would hit the papers and everyone would know about Malfoy’s murder of Leach. Soon after, the election would take place and wizarding Britain would decide whether it wanted to remain firmly stuck in the past, or to flourish and fly towards the future. In a year, Oberon would meet again with Galwain’s ghost, this time with a full heart, hand-in-hand with Robin.
He thought of the catharsis – Mudaliar pursuing her passion, swimming in Oberon’s memories, Sirius’s satisfied face lit up by the burning statue like a funerary pyre – and he thought of the consequences – Severus’s fury, Lily’s resentment, Peter’s resignment.
“It always is,” he said simply.
When Remus was seven, his father taught him about the phases of the moon. It wasn’t that the moon was changing or anything, Lyall had said. She always stayed the exact same. In this way, Remus envied her. Wouldn’t it be nice to be frozen in this fragment of time, knee-to-knee with Sirius? Would it not be better to live in a snapshot of a moment, a memory in the Mirror of All Dreams, swirling and repeating itself endlessly, a time when willows didn’t wander and things never died?
But there was also something special about an existence that was constantly changing, a quality which every human life possessed. People could grow, evolve, improve, whether they were a thirteen-year-old boy, or a thousand-year-old being. The Mirror of All Dreams was a special thing indeed, allowing us to revisit our pasts; but to dwell in dreams is to die without living. One must be open and ready to change in order to make those dreams come true.
“It’s a new moon tonight,” Remus said.