The Reprise

Remus was more than delighted to see his students enjoy the class he had always dreaded as a teenager. It made him finally feel good about himself, even when he heard whispers around the halls about how shabby he looked sometimes. His mood reflected that, as he felt light most days—unless it was a full moon—or unless Snape was using every curse word in the English vocabulary on him.

However, as Halloween rolled around, Remus wanted nothing more than to hide in his office and never come out again. He was somewhat glad it fell on a Saturday and a Hogsmeade weekend. It meant that the castle would be somewhat empty.

As planned, he stayed in his office throughout the entire day. Somewhere after lunch, Filch brought a tank with a Grindylow swimming inside and set it in the corner of Remus’ office. That didn’t improve his mood, as the sickly green creature with sharp little horns kept pressing its face against the glass, pulling faces and flexing its long, spindly fingers.

Remus’ office was relatively large, but he made it feel small—not only with his height but mostly with the amount of random stuff he owned. He had half his book collection from when he was fifteen; Remus had no idea why he brought that with him, quite frankly. His favorite part of the office was the kettle sitting on a small kitchen counter in one of the corners.

Remus was about to make himself some tea but decided to head down to the kitchens first to get some food, as he’d missed lunch. The moment he opened the door of the DADA classroom, which he had to go through to reach the corridor, he ran into Harry.

“Harry?” Remus asked out loud, as he had not expected to see him in the castle during the day today.

Harry did a double take before he stopped in front of Remus. “Hello, Professor Lupin.”

“Aww, is that him?” Sirius asked in a high-pitched tone as he looked down at the baby James was holding.

“Look at him, Moony, he's so cute!” Sirius pulled Remus closer by looping his arm through Remus’ so he could get a better look at the baby. Remus had to admit the baby was truly adorable. And he wasn’t even crying! He was just silently observing everyone. Remus had no idea which parent he had gotten that from, but he was glad he didn’t have to meet him for the first time while he was throwing a tantrum.

“My little godson. Aww, you’re gonna be so cool when you grow up, I just know it.” Sirius beamed at the child, and Remus felt his own corners of his mouth turn upwards.

“Like, he even has a sick name. Harry Potter? Hello? That’s gonna be a famous name one day, I just know it.” Sirius continued.

“That’s what you’ve been saying about yourself since first year,” Remus deadpanned, but he was still smiling.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “My time is yet to come, Moony, just you wait.”

“Sure.”

“Do you want to hold him?” James asked as he tried to hand the baby over but was cut off by Lily, who was still laying in her hospital bed.

“Do not let Sirius touch our son,” she said. Even Remus couldn’t tell if she was joking or not.

“What? Why not?!” Sirius whined.

“When have you ever not dropped anything?” Lily asked rhetorically. Remus silently agreed with her, even though he wanted to hold the baby as much as Sirius did.

“No, please! I promise I won’t drop him! I’m literally the godfather! Please?” Sirius pleaded desperately.

James turned his head around to look at Lily with a comforting look, in which she rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said with a slight chuckle.

Sirius’ eyes lit up as James handed Harry over. Sirius tried to hold him as carefully as possible, almost as if he were scared the baby would evaporate if he held him too hard. Remus couldn’t help but fondly stare at the sight in front of him. Perhaps he and Sirius could be doing something like this in the future. Remus reckoned he’d like that.

“Hello, Harry,” Sirius cooed. “You know who I am? That’s right! Uncle Padfoot. And guess who this is?” Sirius continued with a huge grin on his face as he turned with Harry toward Remus.

“That’s Uncle Moony!” Sirius beamed before he turned to James.

‘Uncle Moony,’ he’d like that.

“What are you doing?” Remus asked again. “Where are Ron and Hermione?”

“Hogsmeade,” Harry said, as if he was trying to hide the tremble in his voice. Remus noticed.

“Ah.”

He could eat later, Remus decided, before he spoke up again.

“Why don’t you come in? I’ve just taken delivery of a Grindylow for our next lesson.” Remus stepped aside to let Harry inside.

“A what?” Harry asked as he walked through the door and further into the classroom, following Remus up into his office, up the stairs.

“Water demon,” Remus answered nonchalantly as he closed the door in his office behind him. “We shouldn’t have much difficulty with him. Not after the Kappas.”

Remus said the last statement more to himself than anyone else, but Harry seemed interested enough.

“Want a cup of tea? I was just going to make myself some.”

“All right,” Harry said.

“I only have teabags, I’m afraid—but dare I say, you’ve had enough of tea leaves?”

Harry looked at him with a startled expression. “How did you know about that?”

Remus smiled. “McGonagall told me.”

During Harry’s divination lessons, Sybil Trelawney had predicted that Harry would die that year, as she apparently did every year with a different student. Remus could confirm this, as she had predicted Peter’s death, and ever since then, she had been telling everyone they were on their deathbed.

“You’re not worried, are you?” Remus asked reassuringly.

“No,” Harry muttered, but he seemed a bit off. Remus frowned as he took the now-boiled kettle and poured a bit of water into each of their cups, throwing a rooibos tea bag into them.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything bothering you, Harry?”

“No,” Harry said quickly, but then he muttered again, “Yes.” Remus’ expression softened.

“You know the day we fought the Boggart?” Harry asked.

“Yes...?” Remus answered slowly, he was pretty sure where this was headed.

“Why didn’t you let me fight it?”

Remus raised his eyebrows in response and sighed. “I would have thought that would be obvious, Harry.”

“Why?”

“Well,” Remus frowned, trying to find the right words. “I assumed that if the Boggart faced you, it would assume the shape of Lord Voldemort.”

Harry seemed a bit shocked when Remus said Voldemort’s name aloud. He realized Harry probably wasn’t used to other people using his name.

“Clearly, I was wrong.” Remus cleared his throat as he took a sip from his tea. “I just didn’t want Lord Voldemort to appear in our classroom, you know? It’d be a bit...” Remus was trying to find the right words.

“Alarming for the others?” Harry finished his sentence.

Remus smiled at him. “Yes. Exactly that.”

They fell into a short, comfortable silence.

“Well, I did think of Voldemort first,” Harry suddenly said. “But then I—I remembered those Dementors.”

“I see... Well, I’m very impressed,” Remus replied softly. “That suggests that what you fear most of all is fear itself. Very wise, Harry,” Remus added as he took another sip of his tea. He saw Harry smile back at him, a hint of surprise on his face.

“So you’ve been thinking all this time that I didn’t believe you were capable of fighting the Boggart?” Remus asked him shrewdly.

“Well... Yeah.”

“Harry, you do know that I believe you could do anything you set your mind to, I just—” Remus was cut off by a knock at his door.

“Come in,” he called.

The door opened slightly, and in came Snape. Immediately as he stepped in, he narrowed his eyes toward Harry before he placed down the goblet he was carrying, which contained Remus’ Wolfsbane potion. Although, Remus wouldn’t be too surprised if Snape had spiked his drink with something more toxic.

“Ah, Severus,” Remus said with an unfaithful smile plastered on his face, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “I was just showing Harry my Grindylow.”

“Fascinating,” Snape deadpanned, not sparing it a single glance.

“You should drink that directly, Lupin.”

“Yes, yes. I will.”

“I made a whole cauldronful if you need more.”

“I should probably take some tomorrow. Thank you very much, Severus.”

“Not at all,” Snape said before he left, the door closing behind him.

Remus was trying not to pick any more fights with Snape. Like, at all. He had said that the first day he arrived and had already managed to fail. The little slip-up he had during the Boggart lesson seemed to really strike a nerve. What wasn’t helping was that the story of Neville’s Boggart—Snape in his grandmother's clothes—was spreading through the school like wildfire, making Snape hold an even bigger grudge.

Despite all this, Severus still made the Wolfsbane potion for him consistently. Remus wondered why. Not a lot of wizards would be up to the task, even if it was for a loved one. Snape, however, continued to make them for Remus without fault. Perhaps it was out of fear, or perhaps Snape had at least a bit of sympathy for him.

Harry, however, was most likely fully convinced Remus was being poisoned right in front of him, judging by the look of horror on his face.

“Professor Snape’s very interested in the Dark Arts,” Harry suddenly spoke up.

“Really?” Remus raised his eyebrows, but he was only half-listening as he tried not to vomit from the disgusting taste of the potion. The worst part was that if he added sugar, the potion would lose its powers. Remus was convinced that someone had done that on purpose just to spite him.

Harry nodded. “Some people reckon—” he paused for a moment. “People reckon he’d do anything to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts job.”

Remus knew this well enough already, so he just took another sip from the goblet, muttering a small “disgusting” while doing so.

“Well, Harry, I have to do some work now. I’ll see you later at the feast,” Remus said as he sent Harry off, so Harry didn’t have to witness him being sick from how atrocious the potion was.

… 

The feast had been good, if Remus couldn’t stop sulking in silence. He tried his best to hide it and seemed to be doing pretty well. That was until after the feast, when Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, and Remus himself were called over to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

To Remus’ horror, the Fat Lady was missing, and across her painting, three giant slashes—almost as if from a beast—ran down the middle.

Remus’ heart sank. He immediately recognized who this work belonged to.
“He got very angry when she wouldn’t let him in, you see,” Peeves started talking while floating above their heads. “Nasty temper he’s got, that Sirius Black.”

…

Hearing Peeves say those words, Remus felt as if his whole world shattered. He knew even before Peeves said it that those marks belonged to Sirius. That didn’t make it any better, though. He didn’t know how he figured it out, but he just knew. Remus thought it was perhaps the wolf inside of him that recognized Sirius, but then again, even if he saw him right now, he wouldn’t recognize Sirius at all, even with his own state of mind.

Right now, it was about 2 in the morning, and every teacher and ghost was searching through the castle, in case Sirius was hiding somewhere. Remus was in such a state of shock that he probably wouldn’t see him even if he bumped straight into him. He was on the verge of a panic attack.

It had been exactly 12 years since October 1st, 1981. 12 years. Remus felt like he was finally starting to get over everything, and suddenly, Sirius was in the same building as him. Remus wanted nothing more than to crawl out of his own skin.

He had also been asked a few times to go and check in on the students, who were now sleeping in the Great Hall, but he barely remembered those visits. His brain wasn’t functioning correctly.

Somewhere between 2 and 3 in the morning, McGonagall walked up to him while he was sitting on one of the window sills, looking out the window. His head snapped towards her the moment he realized he wasn’t alone; she was wearing a soft expression.

“You can go to bed if it’s too much for you, Remus,” she said calmly. It was quite contrasting to see her like this, as most of his memories from his school years were of her giving him detention or telling him to stop acting like a child when he was so academically capable.

“Cheers,” he said quietly as he looked back out the window.

McGonagall stood there for a few moments before she spoke again, her voice still sincere.

“Look, I know you two were... closer than the others between the four of you,” she started, as Remus turned back around to look at her with his eyes widened.

She chuckled. “Oh, don’t think you were so clever. I have eyes everywhere.”

Remus huffed in response. He was craving a cigarette right now. Too bad he quit.

McGonagall sighed. “What I meant to say is, I understand if you wish to stay out of this. Hearing his name everywhere these days must be very hard for you. I understand.”

Remus looked at her and smiled as best as he could. Sirius and McGonagall had a weird relationship back in the day. Sirius used to annoy her to the point where she would give him detention for months, but she was always there for him when things got too bad at home. Remus knew she understood, to some extent at least.

“I never thought I’d hear about him again, let alone be in the same building…” Remus muttered quietly. “I should have expected it, though. It’s such a Sirius thing to do.”

“Break into a school and tear down a painting in hopes of killing a child?”

“To find his last piece of family he actually cared for.” Remus asserted. McGonagall stayed quiet for a moment.

She visibly hesitated. “You don’t think he’s coming after Harry?”

Remus shook his head. “He’d never do that. I know he wouldn’t.”

“Perhaps, but we also thought he wouldn’t ever kill 13 people…”

“What if he didn’t?”

“Excuse me?”

Remus shifted in his seat. “Think about it. Why would he try to break in if he knew everyone would be in the Great Hall for the feast? If he wanted Harry, he would have waited at the Great Hall, not attacked the Fat Lady.”

McGonagall stared at him blankly, but Remus was on a roll.

“Sirius is smart. Very hot-headed, yes. But smart nonetheless. I think there’s more to it than we think,” Remus stated.

“I think you better get some sleep before someone overhears you and thinks you’re the one who let him in,” McGonagall instructed, her voice more serious.

“You don’t actually think I did that, do you?”

“No, but Severus does, and he’s making a point of trying to prove it to Dumbledore.” she said. “I know you wouldn’t do something like that, don’t worry, but it is best if you head off to bed now.”

“Right,” Remus muttered as he got up and started heading toward his room. “Goodnight, profes—I mean, McGonagall. I mean, Professor Mcgonagall.” he stuttered.

She chuckled. “Goodnight, Remus.”

Remus didn’t get a single ounce of sleep that night.