Threads of a Secret
January 20th, 1972
The weeks after Christmas break blended into one another, snow falling in thick drifts across the castle grounds. Life at Hogwarts was back to its usual buzz of activity, with lessons, pranks, and whispered secrets weaving their way into the daily routine of the Marauders. Yet, for Remus, there was a growing weight he couldn’t shake—a secret he carried alone, except for Sirius, who’d promised to keep it quiet.
The others, of course, were none the wiser. James and Peter never questioned Remus’s absences during the full moon, and Sirius remained loyal to his word, keeping his observations to himself. But the burden of secrecy gnawed at Remus.
It was a quiet afternoon in the library when the subject first came up—not directly, but close enough to make Remus’s chest tighten. Sirius had wandered over to the secluded table where Remus was working on a Defense Against the Dark Arts essay.
“You’ve been quiet lately,” Sirius said casually, sliding into the chair across from him.
Remus didn’t look up. “Just tired.”
Sirius studied him for a moment before leaning closer. “You should tell them, you know. About why you’re tired.”
Remus’s quill paused mid-sentence. He shot Sirius a sharp look. “We’ve talked about this. It’s none of their business.”
“I’m not saying spill your guts right now,” Sirius replied, lowering his voice. “But they’re going to figure it out eventually. James isn’t an idiot, no matter how much he acts like one.”
“I’ll handle it when the time comes,” Remus muttered, going back to his essay.
Sirius sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Fine. But just so you know, they’d still like you. Probably more than me, honestly. You’re much less annoying.”
Remus couldn’t help but smirk at that. “That’s not a high bar to clear.”
Later that evening, the four of them gathered in their dormitory. James was sprawled on his bed, twirling his wand idly, while Peter struggled with a particularly difficult Transfiguration assignment.
“You’ve written that wrong,” Remus pointed out, glancing over Peter’s shoulder.
Peter groaned. “I don’t get this. How is anyone supposed to turn a brick into a glass? It’s impossible.”
“It’s not impossible,” Remus said, taking the parchment. He demonstrated the wand movement with a quick flick, and the brick on the table shimmered before transforming into a sleek gold glass.
Peter gaped. “How do you make it look so easy?”
“Practice,” Remus said, handing him the parchment back.
James raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been holding out on us, Lupin. Where did you learn to do that?”
Remus shrugged, trying to play it off. “I just pay attention in class.”
“Professor Lupin,” Sirius teased with a grin.
James laughed. “It’s true. You’re the smartest one out of all of us. We should start taking notes when you’re around.”
Remus rolled his eyes, but the warmth in their teasing made him smile despite himself.
That night, when the others had drifted off to sleep, Remus found himself restless. The full moon loomed a few days away, and the tension in his chest was growing. He grabbed his map—a personal project he’d started to track the secret passages of the castle—and decided to take a walk.
The castle was quiet, its corridors dimly lit by flickering torches. Remus marked a new passage behind a tapestry near the Charms corridor when he heard footsteps. He froze, tucking the map into his pocket.
“Out for a midnight stroll, Lupin?”
Remus turned to find Sirius leaning against the wall, arms crossed.
“You’re one to talk,” Remus muttered, though his heart raced.
Sirius grinned. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d see what you were up to.”
Remus hesitated. “Just exploring. The castle’s huge, and I figured… well, it’s good to know your way around.”
“Fair enough,” Sirius said. He tilted his head. “You’re not sleeping much lately, though. Is it just nerves?”
Remus sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Something like that.”
Sirius didn’t press, though his expression softened. “If you ever want to talk, you know where to find me.”
“Thanks,” Remus said quietly.
By the time they returned to the dorm, Sirius was yawning, but Remus still felt wide awake. He watched his friends as they slept, their breathing even and peaceful. He wondered how long he could keep his secret from James and Peter, how long before they pieced it together like Sirius had.
For now, though, he took comfort in the fact that Sirius knew and hadn’t run away. Perhaps he should tell them, after the upcoming moon. Better they hear it from him than finding out on their own.