Lily Knows
February 29th, 1972
The last day of February arrived with an eerie calm, the kind of gray, overcast sky that weighed heavily on the castle. For Remus, the day felt heavier than most. Not only was it a full moon, but it was also an unusual one—the leap day, February 29th, a rarity in itself.
He had tried to keep his mind off the inevitable, focusing instead on the Potions assignment that Professor Slughorn had given them: a Stamina Draught that required precise monitoring every two hours over the course of one evening.
“It’s ridiculous, really,” James had complained at breakfast. “What kind of lunatic expects us to babysit a potion all night?”
“Slughorn, apparently,” Lily had replied, glancing at Remus. “It’s not so bad if we take turns. That’s what partners are for, right?”
Remus had nodded noncommittally, his stomach twisting into knots. He knew he couldn’t take his turn—couldn’t be anywhere near the dungeons tonight. But how could he possibly explain that to Lily without giving himself away?
Later that afternoon, as they reviewed their potion’s progress, Lily brought it up again.
“So,” she said, jotting down notes, “I’ll take the first shift, you take the second, and we’ll alternate from there?”
Remus hesitated. “I can’t tonight.”
Lily frowned. “What do you mean, you can’t? We’re partners, Remus. It’s only fair if we both do our share.”
“I know,” he said quickly. “It’s just… I’m not feeling well. I can’t be up all night.”
Her frown deepened. “Then we can switch shifts. I’ll take the later ones if that’s easier for you.”
“No, Lily, I just… I can’t,” he repeated, his voice sharper than he intended.
Lily’s eyes narrowed, and she set down her quill. “What’s going on with you? This isn’t the first time you’ve ducked out of something important. You’re always disappearing or making excuses, and now you’re leaving me to handle this on my own?”
“It’s not like that,” Remus said, his chest tightening.
“Then what is it like?” she pressed.
He opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, unable to find the words.
Lily stormed off, muttering something under her breath about unreliable partners. Remus stayed behind, his head in his hands, wishing he could just disappear.
But Lily Evans was nothing if not observant. As she walked back toward the common room, her mind churned through everything she knew about Remus—his frequent absences, his scars, his reluctance to talk about certain topics. And then it hit her, like a lightning bolt.
When she arrived in the Gryffindor common room that evening, she didn’t hesitate. She marched straight up to where Remus sat with James, Sirius, and Peter by the fire.
“Can we talk?” she said, her green eyes fixed on him.
“Er, sure,” Remus said, glancing nervously at the others.
“No, I mean here. In front of them,” Lily said firmly.
James raised an eyebrow. “What’s this about, Evans?”
Lily ignored him, folding her arms and staring at Remus. “I think I’ve figured it out.”
“Figured what out?” Sirius asked, his tone light but his eyes sharp.
Lily took a deep breath. “You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?”
The room went deathly silent.
“Lily—” Remus started, his heart racing.
“Don’t bother denying it,” she said softly. “It all makes sense now. The full moons, the scars, the way you disappear. I’m right, aren’t I?”
Sirius tried to interject, laughing nervously. “Evans, that’s ridiculous. Remus? A werewolf? He’s terrified of dogs!”
“Knock it off, Sirius,” Remus said quietly. He looked up at Lily, his expression weary but resigned. “You’re right.”
Lily’s expression softened immediately. “I knew it,” she whispered. “Remus, I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you earlier. I just… I wish you’d told me.”
“I didn’t know how,” he admitted. “It’s not exactly something people react well to.”
“Well, I’m not people,” she said with a small smile. “You don’t have to hide it from me. I get it now, why you couldn’t take your turn tonight. Don’t worry—I’ll handle it.”
James, Sirius, and Peter were all staring at Remus, their expressions ranging from shock to concern.
“You told her?” James asked, his voice low.
“I didn’t have to,” Remus said. “She figured it out.”
Sirius smirked. “She’s clever, I’ll give her that.”
Lily shot him a look. “Don’t patronize me, Black.”
The moon rose that night, casting its silver light over the grounds and through the windows of the castle. As always, Remus was escorted by Madam Pomfrey to the Shrieking Shack, where he endured the agonizing transformation alone.
This moon was worse than the last, the wolf feeding on his earlier anxiety and the guilt he felt for snapping at Lily. By the time dawn broke, his body was a mass of bruises and aching joints, his skin pale and clammy.
Madam Pomfrey insisted he stay in the hospital wing to recover, but Remus refused.
“I have to check on my potion,” he croaked, his voice hoarse.
“You’re in no condition—”
“I’ll be fine,” he insisted, pulling himself out of bed with a groan.
When he arrived in the dungeons, Lily was waiting for him, her cauldron bubbling gently.
“Remus,” she said, her voice filled with concern. “You look awful.”
“Thanks,” he said wryly. “How’s the potion?”
“Perfect,” she said, smiling. “I made sure of it.”
“Thanks, Lily,” he said quietly.
She reached out and squeezed his arm. “That’s what partners are for.”