Rebel Rebel

Hogwarts Library, December 3, 1977

The library was unusually quiet, the muted ticking of a distant clock blending with the faint rustle of pages. Lily sat across from Remus, both of them hunched over their textbooks. N.E.W.T.s were just a few months away, and the pressure was mounting—not just from school, but from the world outside Hogwarts.

“Mary’s still up in the dorm,” Lily said idly, twirling her quill between her fingers as she scanned her Potions textbook. “She’s been napping all afternoon. Honestly, it’s just so good to have her back.”

Remus nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly. “It’s a relief.” He still couldn’t shake the memory of Mary’s expression when they’d found her, pale and shaking after Mulciber’s cursed attack.

“Well, Sirius is still on the warpath,” Remus added, his voice light but his meaning clear.

“Since when does he care about Mary?” Lily asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You underestimate his blind loyalty to Gryffindors,” Remus replied. “Besides, he likes Mary.”

Lily gave a small huff but didn’t argue. Instead, she turned back to her notes, and Remus tried to focus on his own. His Charms essay was coming together, albeit slowly, but his mind kept drifting—first to Mary, then to everything waiting for them beyond the castle walls.

After a while, Lily set down her quill and looked at him properly. “Remus, what are you planning to do after Hogwarts?” she asked, tilting her head.

He blinked, caught off guard. “I’ve no idea,” he admitted, his voice deliberately neutral.

“You’ve no idea?” Lily repeated, her eyebrows shooting up. “Remus, you’re one of the smartest people in our year. You should apply to King’s College of Enchantment at least.”

Remus gave her a faint smile but quickly looked back down at his essay. “I don’t know what I’d study—or if I’d even get in.”

Truth was, he had already inquired about admission to King’s College.  Their official admission policy had been clear: no magical creatures could be admitted to these halls. The moment he had read that rule, a dark wave of guilt and helplessness had washed over him, and he knew there was no way he would get in. He didn’t belong there—not with the beast inside him. He was certain they wouldn’t make an exception, no matter how smart or qualified he was.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous.” Lily waved a hand dismissively. “Your marks are brilliant, and you’re miles ahead of everyone else in Defense and Charms. Just apply. You can pick your mastery specialization afterwards.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his quill tracing the edge of his parchment. “I’ll think about it,” he murmured finally, though his tone lacked conviction.

Lily frowned but didn’t press further. “What about the boys?” she asked instead. “What are they planning to do after graduation?”

Remus leaned back slightly, folding his arms. “Peter might work in his parents’ shop in Diagon Alley—or maybe some botanical degree. He’s mentioned it a couple of times.”

“And James?” Lily prompted.

Remus’s mouth quirked into a small, fond smile. “If he had his way, he’d be a professional Quidditch player. But I don’t think he’s got any firm plans. Same goes for Sirius. Neither of them are really thinking about it. Not properly.”

Lily let out a dry laugh. “Of course they’re not. Sirius and James don’t have to think about their futures. They’re loaded—they could sit around doing nothing forever, and it wouldn’t matter…”

Remus sighed softly, his shoulders slumping slightly. She wasn’t wrong . Especially James—he could always just take his father’s seat in the Wizengamot and raise hell there if he wanted. But money didn’t mean James and Sirius wouldn’t care about what was going on outside these walls.

“They’ll probably want to join the fight, if they can,” Remus said quietly.

Lily’s expression grew serious. “Do you think so?”

Remus nodded. “I do. They’d never sit back and watch. You know them, it’s not in their nature.”

“And you?” Lily’s voice softened. “Do you think you’d—?”

Remus cut her off with a shrug, looking down at his parchment. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Lily frowned but didn’t push further. Instead, she let her gaze wander back to her notes. “What about you?” Remus asked suddenly, catching her off guard. “What are you planning to do afterwards?”

“Potions mastery,” she replied firmly, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in her voice. “But it’s hard to think that far ahead sometimes.”

“Potions?” Remus tilted his head, a faint hint of surprise in his voice. “I don’t know. I always thought you’d go for ancient runes or something. Maybe solve unbreakable curses or create some.”

Lily let out a short laugh, but it lacked real humor. “That doesn’t exactly guarantee it’ll pay the bills, does it? No, with Potions, I could get a job at a shop in Diagon Alley—or even the Ministry.”

“Or hell, Hogwarts,” Remus added, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

“Don’t joke,” Lily said, though her tone was lighter. “Imagine me stuck here forever, yelling at first years for forgetting to stir their cauldrons clockwise. No thanks.”

“Could be worse,” Remus replied with a shrug. “You’d be good at it, though.”

Lily smiled faintly, but her eyes wandered back to her textbook.

Remus sat back, the guilt still gnawing at him. How could he tell her he didn’t even think to apply to King’s College because of who he was. The thing he had never told her, not even once. That part of him, the part that made his heart race and his skin itch, was the reason he would never be accepted.

**

The common room was quiet for once, the steady crackle of the fire filling the empty spaces between the flickering shadows on the walls. Mary sat curled up in an armchair near the hearth, a blanket draped loosely over her shoulders. The book in her hands — Interview with the Vampire — was open, though she found herself rereading the same sentence over and over. The silence felt strange. 

She sighed, rubbing at her temple. Maybe she wasn’t ready to be alone with her thoughts just yet.

Her mind kept circling back to the last letter from her parents — her mother’s careful words, her father’s barely contained anger. She could see Dr. Macdonald pacing the family living room, his jaw tight, his voice low but fierce, the cadence of his Barbadian accent growing heavier with each word. He didn’t understand magic — not really — but he understood danger, the kind that followed people like them."It ain't right, Mary,” he had said, his voice shaking. “They came after you 'cause you're not one of them. Same way they look at me — like I don’t belong. You understand that, don’t you?”

Of course she understood. How could she not?

The creak of the portrait hole breaking the stillness made her glance up, her fingers tightening around the worn edges of the book. Sirius Black stepped inside, his dark hair falling messily across his face as his gaze swept across the deserted room. For a moment, he seemed ready to turn back — until his eyes landed on her.

“Mary?” His voice, a mix of surprise and concern, echoed softly.

She tilted her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Sitting. Reading. Obviously.”

Sirius crossed the room in a few strides, dropping onto the couch across from her. His brow furrowed, a familiar expression on his face — a blend of worry and frustration. “Should you even be out of bed? Two weeks in the infirmary and you’re already back at it?”

Mary rolled her eyes, tucking the blanket tighter around herself. “I’ve spent more than enough time in bed to last me the rest of my life, thanks.”

The truth was, she hadn’t wanted to stay still for too long. Stillness let the memories creep back in. Stillness reminded her of the fear — of how utterly useless she had felt, wand slipping from her fingers, unable to stop him. What kind of healer couldn’t even protect herself?

And then there was the other worry — the one that gnawed at her every time she tried to focus on her homework. The healer program. She needed top marks to even have a chance. What if this whole ordeal had set her back too far? 

He chuckled — a low, warm sound — but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees, his fingers lacing together. “Still, you gave us all a scare. I’m sorry I couldn’t—” His words faltered, his voice rough around the edges. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

Mary blinked, her chest tightening at the unexpected sincerity in his voice. “That’s not your place, Sirius,” she murmured, her gaze dropping to the book in her lap. “I don’t need anyone to protect me. I just—” She hesitated, the words twisting uncomfortably in her throat. “I hate that I wasn’t strong enough to stop him. I feel... weak.”

The silence stretched between them for a beat too long before Sirius shook his head, his jaw set. “You’re not weak, Mary. If anything, you’re bloody resilient. You got through it, and you’re still here. That’s more than I can say for most people.”

Her heart stumbled over itself at his words, and she found herself searching his face for any trace of insincerity — but there was none.

“And,” Sirius added, a familiar smirk creeping back onto his lips, “we’ve got enough people skulking around Hogwarts like the world’s ending. Don’t you start being one of them. You’re always the one smiling and keeping things light. Honestly, it’s annoying.”

The laugh escaped her before she could stop it — a short, startled sound — and Sirius’s smirk only deepened.

“Didn’t know you noticed,” she said softly.

Sirius shrugged, but there was a flicker of something unspoken in his eyes.

Mary shifted the book in her lap, her smile lingering. “You know,” she said, holding it up slightly, “I think you’d actually like this.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Not much of a reader.”

Her grin widened. “Oh, trust me, you’d enjoy it. Give it a try sometime.”

Sirius opened his mouth — whether to protest or tease, she couldn’t tell — but before he could reply, Mary flipped back to her page, the world of vampires and shadows pulling her in once more.

**

Later, Sirius went upstairs to his dormitory, his steps slow and hesitant. He found James sitting cross-legged on his bed, quietly flicking through his book. Remus and Peter had already gone to eat, leaving James behind. Sirius hovered by the door, unsure whether he was welcome. He’d been avoiding this moment—avoiding James.  But it was inevitable. 

"Alright?" Sirius greeted cautiously, sitting down on his own bed next to James. "No dinner?"

James looked up, their eyes meeting. Sirius felt a lump form in his throat. There was something unfamiliar in James’s expression—cold, distant. It wasn’t like him at all.

After what felt like an eternity, James finally spoke. "If you’re really my friend, you’ll stay away from Marlene," he said quietly, unnervingly calm.

Sirius had expected fireworks—yelling, anger, maybe even a punch. He probably deserved all of it. Then they’d sort it out, and everything would go back to normal. But this? This blindsided him.

“I mean it, Sirius,” James continued, his gaze unflinching. “I don’t care what you think is going on between you two. But if you’re truly my friend, you’ll stay the hell away from her. I won’t let you hurt her."

"Why d’you think I’d hurt her?" Sirius asked, genuinely taken aback.

"Because you’re always chasing something but you have no idea what it is," James replied, his tone resigned but sharp. "Most of the time, I don’t care. It’s you, it’s how you are. But with Marls? I can’t let you make her the centre of your world for five minutes and then decide it’s not convenient and bugger off."

The words cut deep. And there was some truth to them. Sirius’s past flings had always gone that way—he’d get bored, restless, and leave. But this felt different. 

"Marlene’s not some fragile flower," Sirius shot back, a bit defensive. "She can make her choices”

Everyone knew Marlene could give as good as she got. That’s what Sirius liked about her—she didn’t let him get away with anything.

"No, she’s not," James conceded, his expression softening just a fraction. "But I know her. She’s not as tough as she pretends to be. She’s got a soft heart, even if she doesn’t show it. Do you know how many nights I had to talk her down after Whitehorne cheated on her?"

Sirius frowned. Whitehorne? Soft-hearted Marlene? He hadn’t seen that side of her. To him, Marlene had always been sharp, clever, and utterly unflappable. 

"I like her, James," Sirius admitted, the words tasting foreign. 

"But are you ready for this?" James pressed. "Can you promise me you won’t bail on her? Because I need you to be sure. I can’t have you break her heart."

Sirius opened his mouth, but no words came. He tried to imagine it—him and Marlene, something steady.. He’d never been that kind of boy. He wasn’t sure he even knew how to be. And somewhere deep down, he wondered if it wasn’t Marlene he wanted but the idea of her, the way she made him feel normal—grounded, like someone worth keeping around.

"I’ve never asked you for anything, Padfoot" James began again, quieter this time.

**

The dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts were unusually quiet as James and Lily patrolled the hallways, the air thick with an unsettling mix of anticipation and unease. With the holiday break fast approaching, excitement buzzed among the students, yet an undercurrent of tension lingered, especially after Mary’s recent awakening from her coma following Mulciber’s attack.

Lily’s heart ached at the memory of Mary’s frail state when she was in the infirmary, the reality of the incident still weighing heavily on her.

“I know things have been difficult lately, but know that I’m really trying to make Hogwarts safer,” James said, breaking the silence as they rounded a corner. “I wrote to my father and Mr McKinnon about what happened to Mary. They’ll raise hell with the Board of Hogwarts and Dumbledore. You were right—I’ve been privileged, and I’ve realized I should use that privilege, not hide behind it.”

His earnest expression caught Lily’s attention.

Surprised by his sincerity, Lily softened slightly. “...I appreciate that, James,” she replied. But the shadows of her recent fears still clung to her. “It’s not you… really. It’s just… everything that happened with Mary. I can’t shake this feeling of dread.”

James slowed his pace, concern etching lines on his forehead. “What’s bothering you?”

Taking a deep breath, Lily confided, “I’m terrified to go home. My sisters and I don’t get on, and she doesn’t really accept the whole ‘witch’ thing. Ever since I got into Hogwarts, Christmas has never been normal. I might have to run into Severus with nowhere to flee. And now this Mary situation.. I just… I don’t want to deal with it.”

“It can’t be easy for you,” he replied gently.

“I don’t want your pity, Potter,” she snapped, though the sharpness of her tone didn’t quite mask her vulnerability.

“I’m not pitying you,” James countered, his expression serious. “You seem to be carrying so much—Mary’s attack, your family drama, Snape. You shouldn’t have to face all that alone.”

Lily sighed, feeling the weight of his words. “I guess I’ve just gotten used to being by myself.  Ever since things fell apart with Severus and then Mary ended up in the infirmary. it’s been hard. Dorcas and Marlene are lovely but we’ve just become friends”

“You know, Dorcas and Marlene, for what it’s worth,  love you. You can talk to them, if you don’t want to talk to me” James offered, a hint of understanding in his voice. “But I’m used to family drama, having Sirius living at the Potter’s.”

“How’s that going?” Lily asked, intrigued.

“Good. My parents dote on him like a son. But it’s tough having a brother. We fought most of the summer when he first moved in with us. I wanted to sort everything for him, but I think I overwhelmed him. All I want to do is protect him—from them, from himself—and I’m scared he’ll hate me for it.”

Lily smiled, her expression softening. “Yeah, having a sibling isn’t easy. I know a thing or two about that.”

James frowned, a protective instinct flaring within him. “Evans, can I write to you over the holidays? Just to make sure you’re alright?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Lily replied, suspicious of his motives. He had just stopped asking her out this year. 

“Listen, I want to”, James pleaded. “No funny business, I promise. You’ve made it clear you’re not interested…”

Her heart warmed at the offer, “...Yes… okay, fine, Potter” she replied, her voice steady. “Here is my address. Don’t make me regret this.” 

“Good,” James said, a smile creeping back onto his face. “I’ll make sure to send you something entertaining to keep your spirits up.”

Lily chuckled softly, feeling comfort in the idea of their correspondence. “Thanks, Potter.”

**

Outside, the night air is crisp, the cold biting but not unbearable. Remus leans against the stone wall, cigarette balanced between his fingers, the orange ember glowing faintly in the dim light. Smoke curls lazily from his lips, disappearing into the night. Beside him, Sirius stands still, hands buried deep in his jacket pockets, shoulders tense. He hasn’t said much since they stepped outside for a smoke. That in itself is unusual.

Remus watches him from the corner of his eye. Sirius always has something to say—whether it’s a joke, a complaint, a dramatic retelling of whatever nonsense James has dragged them into. But right now, he’s quiet, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance, his expression unreadable.

Remus exhales, tilting his head slightly. “Trouble in paradise with your mystery girl?” he teases, aiming for lightheartedness, even though something about it feels off in his mouth.

Sirius lets out a short, dry laugh. “Something like that.”

Remus frowns. That wasn’t an answer. Not really. It’s a dodge.

He studies Sirius for a moment, then nudges his shoulder. “You wanna talk about it?” His voice is casual, like he’s just making conversation, but underneath, there’s something sharper. Something more desperate. He doesn’t know who she is, doesn’t want to know, but the thought of Sirius with someone else has been gnawing at him for weeks.

Sirius shakes his head. “Not worth it.” His voice is quiet, flat.

Remus watches him for a beat longer but doesn’t push. He knows Sirius. If he wants to talk, he will. If he doesn’t, forcing him won’t get Remus anywhere.

Then, Sirius shifts his weight and glances at him. “What about you?” he asks suddenly. “You seeing anyone?”

Remus hesitates. The cigarette between his fingers burns dangerously close to the filter, but he doesn’t move to put it out.

He could lie. He almost does. It would be easy—shrug it off, say no, change the subject. That’s what he always does. Just like with Lily. 

He thought about his father sometimes—about how he had died without ever knowing the truth. About this, at least. Not that there had ever been a chance to tell him. Lyall had spent his life carrying the weight of his son’s curse, fighting for Remus’s right to exist in a world that did not want him, shouldering the burden of a future neither of them had asked for. There had been no room for anything else. 

Then he was hit by a car, of all things. A wizard taken out in the most ridiculous, mundane way. Not a curse, not a duel, not some grand, heroic fate—just a miscalculation, a slip of time and space, and a Muggle vehicle that didn’t stop in time.

A stupid, meaningless accident.

And maybe, deep down, Remus had feared what his father might have said.

Would he have been disappointed? Would it have been just another burden, another shame, another unspoken truth to tuck away in the silence? Or would he have simply sighed, run a tired hand over his face, and said, Alright then, son —the same way he had when Remus first understood what the full moons would mean for the rest of his life?

He’s just know he’s tired. Tired of lying, of dodging, of pretending. Tired of feeling like some part of himself is buried beneath layers of carefully constructed half-truths.

So instead, he exhales and says, “I was seeing someone. Last summer.”

Sirius lifts a brow. “Someone?”

Remus swallows. He could still twist the truth, still make it something safe. But instead, he just says it. Because fuck it. Mary just spent weeks in the infirmary and Lily’s right, the world is ending anyway. 

“Yeah.” A beat. “A bloke.”

The words fall into the space between them, quiet but solid, like a stone dropped into water.

Sirius doesn’t react at first. The silence stretches, heavy, and Remus forces himself to hold still, to keep his expression neutral, though his pulse is hammering in his throat. Then, instinctively, his walls slam up, his defenses snapping into place before Sirius can say anything.

“That disgust you?” The words come out sharper than he intended.

Sirius blinks, startled, and his throat bobs as he swallows. “What?”

Remus shrugs stiffly, shifting his weight. “You heard me.”

Sirius frowns, shaking his head slightly. “No. I mean—no…” He exhales, running a hand through his hair, looking almost... thrown. Then, after a beat, he asks, “What was that like?”

Remus wasn’t expecting that.

He blinks, caught off guard. “What?”

Sirius shrugs, his gaze steady now, curious. “Being with a bloke. What was it like?”

Remus hesitates. No one’s ever asked him that before. No one’s ever cared to.

He exhales, rubbing his thumb against the side of his cigarette. “I don’t know,” he says, voice quieter now. “The same as being with anyone, I suppose. Except… not.” He frowns slightly, trying to find the right words. “It was easier, in some ways. Harder, in others.”

Sirius watches him closely. “Easier, how?”

Remus lets out a soft, breathy laugh. “Didn’t have to pretend.” He flicks the cigarette, embers scattering to the ground. “Didn’t have to force myself to be something I wasn’t.”

Sirius is quiet for a moment, then asks, “And harder?”

Remus hesitates, then sighs. “Because I knew it couldn’t last.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Because I knew it wouldn’t matter how much I liked him. It wouldn’t change anything.”

Colin would never admit to what they were doing or what they were, there had been no point in asking him. 

Sirius nods slowly, like he understands. Maybe he does. They stand there in silence for a long moment, the night stretching wide and uncertain around them. Then, softly, Sirius says, “I don’t think you should have to pretend.”

Remus glances at him, something tightening in his chest. “Yeah?”

Sirius nods. “Yeah.”

And for once, neither of them looks away.

**

Marlene eagerly packed her luggage, her heart racing with excitement. Nothing compared to Solstice with her family. The Mckinnon Manor would be filled with warmth and magic—the kitchen bustling as Mini baked her favorite cookies, enchanted pastries glittering with frost-like icing, and goblets of firewhisky glowing warmly in the candlelight. She could already picture it, the way the entire house seemed to hum with enchantment as the Winter Solstice drew near, everyone gathering together under the twinkling lights of the Yule tree.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Dorcas appeared in the doorway, casually leaning against the frame. "Sirius is waiting for you downstairs."

Marlene’s heart skipped a beat, but in a good way. Since James had found out about them, the weight of secrecy had lifted. Everything seemed to be falling into place.

Smiling to herself, Marlene left her room, imagining that Sirius wanted to say goodbye before his first Solstice with the Potters. It would be a blast, she knew. Much better than the miserable holidays he’d spent at Grimmauld Place.

When she found him in the common room, her smile faltered. He wasn’t smiling. His posture was tense, and when he spoke, his voice was cold. "Hey, we need to talk."

Taken aback, Marlene hesitated. She had expected excitement, maybe a playful grin, not this. Without a word, he led her out of the Gryffindor quarters. They walked in silence, Sirius remaining unusually quiet, until they eventually reached the Astronomy Tower. The air was crisp, the castle grounds stretching out beneath them, bathed in moonlight.

Sirius finally stopped, leaning against the stone wall, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "I don't think this is working," he said, his voice flat.

Marlene blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

They had held hands just hours earlier. She thought they were building towards something. What she did not know exactly, but something. 

"This," he gestured vaguely between them. "Us. Whatever this is."

The words hit her like a gust of icy wind. "Don’t do this, Sirius," she pleaded softly. "What did he say to you?"

"Nothing," Sirius replied, shaking his head. His voice was softer. "This isn’t about James. I swear. We had fun, but I think we should stop before anyone gets hurt. We’re better off as friends."

Marlene stared at him, her chest tightening. "Is there someone else?" she asked, a flicker of suspicion flashing across her mind. 

"No," Sirius said firmly. "I swear, it’s not like that."

For a moment, the silence between them stretched on, heavy and painful. Marlene swallowed hard, forcing a bitter smile. "Alright. Have a great Solstice, then."

Before he could say anything else, she turned on her heel and walked away. She heard him call out her name, but she didn’t stop. By the time she reached the train, the tears had already started. The girls tried to comfort her, but the ache in her chest wouldn’t subside. She felt foolish, like a little girl who had once again let herself believe that someone would actually choose her.

As the train chugged through the snow-covered hills, she gazed out the window at the frost-covered countryside, now tinged in the soft glow of Solstice magic. She closed her eyes, pressing her head against the cool glass.