Coming Clean
January 23rd, 1972
The full moon loomed like a grim promise over the following week. Remus could feel its pull even during the day, a creeping weight that made his limbs ache and his mind foggy. The transformations were getting worse, growing in intensity as his body strained under the wolf’s increasing dominance. No matter how much he tried to push through, it was becoming undeniable that this moon was going to be the hardest yet.
He knew he couldn’t keep it hidden from James and Peter much longer. Sirius had been right—James was already starting to notice things, his sharp eyes catching on Remus’s frequent excuses, the too-perfect timing of his illnesses, the fresh scars that seemed to appear as if by magic.
Still, he waited, hoping he could stave off the inevitable for just a bit longer.
January 30th, 1972
The day of the full moon dawned cold and gray, a blanket of clouds draped across the sky. Remus woke with a throbbing headache and a gnawing dread deep in his chest. Breakfast was a quiet affair for him, his stomach twisting too much to eat more than a slice of toast.
“You look awful,” James commented as they left the Great Hall.
“Thanks for that,” Remus muttered, tugging his robes tighter around him.
“Seriously, though,” Sirius added, his tone softer. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Remus said quickly, not meeting their eyes.
James shot Sirius a questioning look, but Sirius gave a slight shake of his head, silently telling him to drop it.
By the time the sun began to set, Remus was shaking. The walk to the Whomping Willow felt longer than usual, every step an effort as his body screamed in protest. Sirius offered to come with him, but Remus had refused.
“I’ll be fine,” he said, forcing a weak smile. “You know the drill.”
Sirius didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. “Be careful.”
The shack was cold and silent, the air heavy with the scent of dust and old wood. Pomfrey had left as quickly as she could, her face lined with concern. “I’ll be back in the morning,” she’d said, her voice gentle.
Remus barely remembered the transformation itself. It was a blur of agony—bones snapping, skin stretching, the wolf ripping its way to the surface. The pain was always unbearable, but tonight it felt sharper, more feral, as though the wolf was angrier than ever.
When he woke the next morning, the room was a wreck. Splintered wood littered the floor, deep gouges raked across the walls. Blood spotted his robes—his own, he realized with a sick jolt as he pushed himself up on shaking arms.
Every movement was agony, his body screaming in protest. Pomfrey found him slumped against the wall, barely conscious.
“Remus,” she said softly, helping him to his feet. “You can’t keep pushing yourself like this.”
“I’ll be fine,” he mumbled, though he knew it was a lie.
By the time he returned to the common room, the others were waiting for him. James stood by the fireplace, arms crossed, while Peter and Sirius lounged on the couches.
“You look like death,” James said, his tone light but his eyes full of worry.
“Cheers,” Remus replied, sinking into a chair.
The room fell silent, the air heavy with unspoken questions. Remus stared at the floor, his hands gripping the edges of the armrests.
“I need to tell you something,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sirius sat up straighter, his expression unreadable. James tilted his head, curiosity flickering across his face. Peter fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve.
“I’m…” Remus hesitated, the words sticking in his throat. “I’m a werewolf.”
The confession hung in the air like a thunderclap. James blinked, his mouth opening and closing as if he wasn’t sure what to say. Peter froze, his eyes wide. Sirius stayed quiet, watching the others carefully.
“A werewolf?” James repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Remus nodded, his stomach twisting. “I’ve been one since I was a kid. That’s why I’m always gone during the full moon. Why I’m… like this afterward.”
Peter shifted uncomfortably. “You mean… you turn into a—”
“A monster?” Remus finished for him, his voice bitter.
“No,” James said quickly, his tone firm. “Not a monster. Don’t be ridiculous.”
Peter looked unsure, his hands twisting in his lap. “But… it’s dangerous, isn’t it? I mean, you could hurt someone…”
“I lock myself up,” Remus said quietly. “I’m not a danger to anyone.”
James crossed the room and dropped into the chair beside him. “Remus, you’re not dangerous. You’re our friend.”
Remus blinked, surprised by the conviction in James’s voice.
“Yeah, well,” Sirius added with a grin, “we always knew you were a bit of an animal.”
Peter managed a weak chuckle, though his expression was still uneasy.
The rest of the evening passed in a strange haze. James and Sirius did their best to lighten the mood, cracking jokes and insisting that nothing had changed. Peter stayed quieter than usual, but he didn’t leave the room, which Remus took as a small victory.
When they finally turned in for the night, Remus lay awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling. The weight of his secret had lifted, but the anxiety of their reactions lingered.
Sirius’s whispered voice broke the silence. “See? Told you they wouldn’t care.”
Remus smiled faintly in the dark. Maybe Sirius was right. Maybe he didn’t have to carry this alone anymore.