The Weight of Secrets
March 17th, 1972
The next few weeks were different. Remus felt the shift immediately—an undercurrent of tension he couldn’t shake, even when he was laughing with the others in the common room. The nightly check-ins were simple enough; he would stop by McGonagall’s office or the hospital wing, exchange a few words, and be on his way. But the meaning behind them loomed over him like a storm cloud.
Every night, he was reminded of what had happened—the attack, the possibility that Greyback was nearby. And though he knew Dumbledore trusted him, there was an unspoken fear nestled deep in Remus’s chest. What if something happened here? What if he wasn’t enough?
His friends didn’t seem to notice the difference at first. James was too busy obsessing over Quidditch, Peter was struggling with their latest Charms assignment, and Sirius—Sirius noticed everything, but he didn’t push. He watched Remus closely, never saying much, but making sure he wasn’t alone for too long.
Then there was Lily.
Potions lessons with her were one of the few things that made him feel normal. Their assigned partnership had started off as a welcome relief for her, but over time, Remus found that he enjoyed it just as much.
“You’re miles better at this than I expected, Lupin,” Lily said one afternoon, adding a careful drop of essence of dittany to their cauldron. “No offense.”
Remus smirked. “I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She grinned at him, stirring the potion until it turned a deep emerald green. “I’m just used to being paired with Severus,” she admitted. “And he—” She sighed, shaking her head. “He doesn’t let me do anything. Just takes over.”
Remus hesitated. “I thought you two were best friends.”
“We are,” she said, but there was something in her voice—something hesitant, uncertain. “It’s just… he doesn’t really listen to me. Not when it matters.”
Remus didn’t know what to say to that, so he focused on their potion.
Lily nudged him after a moment. “What about you? How’d you get so good at Potions?”
He shrugged. “I read a lot.”
She gave him a knowing look. “That’s not all, though.”
Remus hesitated again, but then he found himself saying, “My dad taught me some things. He’s… he’s always been big on healing magic.”
Lily’s green eyes softened. “That’s brilliant.”
It felt nice, this easy understanding between them. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but Lily Evans had become a real friend. And right now, that mattered more than he could say.
Despite his attempts to act normal, the stress of everything began catching up with him. The next full moon loomed closer, and with it, the threat of Greyback still hung heavy over him.
It wasn’t until one evening in the common room that he realized just how much it was affecting him.
James was bent over a piece of parchment, sketching out some elaborate Quidditch strategy, while Sirius was sprawled across the floor, flipping through an old Defense textbook. Peter was writing a letter home, his brow furrowed in concentration.
And then there was Lily, who had joined them that night, sitting cross-legged across from Remus as she reviewed their Potions notes.
She looked up suddenly. “You’re doing it again.”
Remus blinked. “Doing what?”
“Zoning out,” she said, frowning slightly. “You’ve been off all week.”
James glanced up. “She’s right, you know. You barely even reacted when I told you I might have cracked the perfect move to fake out Ravenclaw’s Keeper.”
Remus forced a smirk. “I’m sure it’s brilliant, Potter.”
James narrowed his eyes at him. “Something’s wrong.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
“Leave him alone,” Sirius said lazily, though his eyes flickered toward Remus in silent concern. “He’s always broody. It’s part of his charm.”
Lily didn’t laugh. She studied Remus carefully, then lowered her voice. “Is it because of what happened? The attack?”
Remus’s stomach twisted. “I—”
James and Peter exchanged looks.
Lily sighed, running a hand through her hair. “He doesn’t want to talk about it,” she said simply, but there was something in her tone—a quiet understanding, a promise not to push.
James and Peter still looked confused, but they let it drop.
Sirius, however, didn’t.
Later that night, after the others had gone to bed, Sirius lingered behind, watching as Remus stared into the dying embers of the common room fire.
Remus glanced at him, feeling a tightness in his chest. “I appreciate you, you know,” he said quietly.
Sirius grinned, nudging him. “Yeah, yeah. I’m brilliant, I know.”
Remus shook his head with a small smile. But deep down, he knew Sirius was right. He couldn’t keep this up forever.
And with the next full moon only days away, he was running out of time.