You Tell Me
7th September 1978
Like clockwork, the two days before, the day of, and the two days after the full moon were a cyclical sort of terror that never failed to come, every single month, despite Remus’ highest hopes that one day it would just… fucking stop, already.
He’d woken up on Sunday hyperaware of every nerve ending in his body. He could feel his blood pulsing in every vein, feel the slightest breeze drifting across his skin as if it were a heavy-handed touch. His head throbbed, his throat burned, and his very bones felt as if they were going to vibrate out of his skin.
As Sunday dragged into Monday, it grew. His already-heightened senses became even more acute, as though every sound, scent, and flicker of light was amplified, overwhelming his senses. Prior to the last moon, it had been harder than ever before, at home in the flat with her all over everything.
He was nearly certain that he had fisted his cock and rutted into his hand like an animal more in the twenty-four hours prior to his leaving than he had in the entirety of his second year, when he’d first learned how fun that little hobby could be. Holding it together, especially when she walked into his fucking bedroom and told him she knew he was a werewolf, and she liked him and found him intriguing and then fucking kissed him again had been so –
Nope. He needed to stop that little train of thought, right now. With a groan, he sat up on his cot and reached down to pull on his boots. He needed to walk or move or… something. Anything.
It was comforting to know that he wasn’t the only one affected in this way, though. The energy at camp as a whole had been frenzied. Many of the couples were disappearing multiple times a day – lucky bastards – and the pups were, true to Ford’s words, full of energy, running and screeching and laughing and playing all hours of the day.
The full moon would rise tomorrow night, and the two days after would be slow and calm, and, for the wolves, full of pain. But this pre-moon chaos was actually sort of nice. The pack almost seemed excited about the whole ordeal, which Remus could not, for the life of himself, wrap his mind around.
He yawned and shrugged on a jumper, then stepped out of the tent and scanned the clearing until his eyes fell on Shawna and a few of the others working over in the outdoor kitchen area, so he headed that way to offer his assistance, needing to find anything to do with his hands.
“Good morning, Remus.” Shawna said brightly as she scooped scrambled eggs from a large pan onto a row of plates. “Sleep well?”
“Eh. Somewhat. How can I help?”
“You could pour some juice for the pups.” Shawna pointed with the spatula to the workbench behind her. “We usually make them do milk in the morning, but the full being tomorrow cancels it out, so, no sense in making them wait until lunch for their sugar.”
“I suppose they’re all hyped up with or without it.” Remus quipped as he nodded toward where Teeny, Shawna and Gibs’ middle child, was pushing the baby, Leo, back and forth in a pram and loudly screech-singing a song about mermaids while two other pups around her age were quite literally just sort of… jumping up and down beside her as they screeched along.
“Teeny! Don’t jostle the pram so hard!” Shawna laughed, then cast a look at Remus over her shoulder. “It’s a lot, yeah? Being around all of this? How are you feeling?”
“Its… different.” Remus admitted. “S’not so bad, just…”
“Weird?” Shawna prompted. She turned around and grabbed a hand towel to clean up a spill, then slung it over her shoulder and leaned back against the bench to watch as he filled the glasses.
“Yeah. I mentioned a bit before but my dad, he… hates werewolves, Passionately so. I was attacked as revenge when he insulted one, and he handled it about as well as you could imagine. My Mam, she tried, but she was a muggle so there was so much about everything that didn’t make sense to her. Growing up was…” He trailed off, unsure of how much he wanted to share, and grew silent for a moment as he started levitating the glasses to the table.
“It’s okay to talk about it. If you’d like.” Shawna said softly. “Of course, you don’t have to. But, this curse isn’t easy on anyone. Did you know I’m a muggle?”
“Oh? One of my best friends is a muggleborn witch, too.” Remus said conversationally.
Shawna laughed, then turned around and cupped her hands over her mouth as she called out for the pups to eat their breakfast. Gesturing for Remus to follow her, she walked over to relieve Teeny of pram duties and lifted Leo into her arms, patting his back absentmindedly as she settled on one of the low benches that had been carved out of a long log.
“I’m not a witch. I know, it’s a shock.” She began as she patted the bench next to her to encourage Remus to sit. “Most don’t even realize a non-magical person can be infected. In truth, very few survive. I was one of the lucky ones. I was camping with my family in the Forest of Dean the summer I turned thirteen, and my older brothers thought it would be funny to take me snipe hunting – are you familiar with the sport?”
“I can’t say I am.”
“I’m not sure of the origins, but essentially, it’s a sort of practical joke people play where they take someone out in the woods under the guise of hunting this elusive animal, only to then pretend to leave them. My brothers couldn’t have anticipated that I would get spooked and run deeper into the forest. I got lost and was attacked right before sunrise.”
“Gods, that’s horrible, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’ve made my peace, now. Because of the timing, the wolf who bit me shifted back into her human form just a few minutes later – she was only a few years older than me herself, and she was devastated. She managed to get me back to her pack’s encampment nearby and their Luna was a skilled healer, so, somehow, I survived. My family was… unreceptive, so that pack took me in. I decided to try attending a muggle university when I became of age, wound up in a short lived, very poor marriage, returned to my pack, and then met Gibs one day and the rest was history.”
“It seems as if it’s all shaken out pretty well for you.” Remus said, nodding toward the baby in her arms.
“Yeah.” Shawna smiled down at Leo and ran a hand over his head. “Things have a way, don’t they? My point is that most of us got here by messy means. Families don’t tend to love it when their kids become rabid animals. You can talk freely, or you can choose not to, but regardless, just know that you’re not alone in whatever you’ve been through.”
Remus nodded, swallowing through the lump in his throat as stared out at the trees.
“Mam was a muggle, as I said. She didn’t understand things. She’d never lived it. My Dad, he hated what we are with such a passion that it outweighed his love for me as a son. So, growing up it was as if… she only saw the boy, and he only saw the beast. I think maybe I needed someone to see that space between. My Mam was – she passed, three summers ago – she was so kind, and worked so hard to be good to me, even when I could sense that underlying fear she always held where I was concerned. But my dad, he…” Remus paused, then laughed. “Chocolate.”
“Chocolate?” Shawn asked with an amused smile.
“Chocolate. It’s my favorite thing in the world now, because I was never allowed to have it as a child, except for when my Mam would sneak it to me. Dad always told me I wasn’t a real boy and found ways to reinforce that. Wolves are canines. Dogs are allergic to chocolate. Chocolate was only for real boys. Despite the fact that I was only… wolfy once a month, I wasn’t allowed to play with the other kids in the village or go to primary school because that stuff was for real boys. He beat this idea into my head that I was only a beast. And then my Mam, she worked so hard to make me feel like I was only a boy that it just all twisted up and I guess I just… liked it with her, best.”
“So, you chose.” Shawna said in a knowing tone as she shifted the baby to her other shoulder. “Without any actual guidance to teach you how to be a wolf, and the only knowledge you were given about your nature being toxic and terrifying, you chose to be a boy, and to hate the wolf. You do, don’t you? Hate the wolf?”
Remus nodded, still staring out at the tree line, then shook his head.
“Yeah.” His voice cracked, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Yeah. I do. I’m terrified of it. The things I feel sometimes… especially lately. I have people in my life who know what I am, accept me, and they’re all convinced that I’m not a danger but… I’m a monster.”
“You’re not a monster. We’re not monsters.” Shawna said firmly as she stood and laid a now-sleeping Leo back down in the pram. “We’re humans, who were cursed against our will. And you can choose to hate this part of yourself for the rest of your life, but you need to be aware that it is a choice that you’re making. You could also choose to accept him.”
“Him?”
“Your wolf. You feel him, don’t you? It’s a bit hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t felt it. Gibs has always joked that it would be easier if they just had a damn voice, but the presence can still be felt. I can’t imagine how exhausting it must be to try to ignore it all the time.”
Shawna paused and leaned down to adjust the blanket over the baby, and then smiled over at Remus.
“Tomorrow is the full, so it’s wrought with tradition. Everyone sleeps late, and we put on some games for the pups while the rest of the pack bonds and spends time together in the afternoon. Some play music, a few elders tell stories before the sun starts to set and it’s time for everyone to head out to the woods. You come find me after lunch tomorrow. I’m aware you’re not supposed to be fully immersed in everything until after this next moon, but I’m the Luna. I get to bend a few rules. I’d like you to take a chance on all of this tomorrow, Remus. Just let yourself be fully present and withhold any fear or judgement.”
“I can… I can do that.” Remus nodded. “Thank you, for what it’s worth, Shawna. You’re too kind.”
“Eh. Comes with the whole Luna thing.” She laughed with a wave of her hand. “But I think you’re a good kid, Remus. At the very least, you deserve a chance to learn that you’ve always been a real boy.”
8th September 1978
Remus sat by the fire, picking at a little hole in the sleeve of his jumper as he stared off across the clearing. The moon was tonight, and his mind was a frenzy, as it always was. This time around, though, just as it had been last month, the frenzy had narrowed – just, too, as every fucking thing had.
Everything came back to her. Everything started and ended with her. Gods, he missed her, and then he felt crazy because he’d known her for less than a month before he’d left, and then he felt sad because he’d been gone for a month, and then that led back to the missing and the crazy and so on and so forth.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts and nodded along absentmindedly to whatever Otto was saying to his left as he pulled out his pack and lit a cigarette.
“How you feeling about tonight?” Otto asked.
“S’alright. Same as always, yeah?”
“To an extent. It’s different when I’m with the pack. Feels more… settled, I suppose.”
“I suppose.” Remus echoed as he took a drag of his cigarette and watched some of the older guys moving chairs around in the center of the clearing.
“How do you get over the fear of hurting someone, though? Are there wards in place? I didn’t really have time to ask last time, got here just a few hours before moonrise.”
“Aye.” Otto said with a nod. “We set a perimeter a few miles out with repellent wards to keep people away. There’s still a mild risk that someone could slip past them but it’s nearly impossible.”
“And what about all of this?” Remus asked, gesturing broadly. “They’re all just going to be exposed here while there are thirty-some-odd werewolves running wild in the woods beyond the clearing?”
“Well, there are a few wards around the clearing to keep outsiders out, but it doesn’t matter that… shite, boy, you really are green, aren’t you? Is there anything you do know?”
Remus bristled and sat up straighter, taking a long drag of his cigarette and then reluctantly shook his head.
“Not really, no.”
“Where did you shift before?”
“Erm… cellars, as a young lad. Then there was a shack, at school. And this summer I’ve been using a cellar again, at a friend’s cottage.” Remus explained. He opted not to divulge the fact that he’d spent plenty of time running through the woods with his fellow Marauders, given the whole ‘illegal’ aspect of the unregistered animagus bit. “Truthfully? Save for my attacker I’d never met another werewolf until I came here.”
“Shit.” Otto repeated, then chuckled. “Right, well, good on ya, boy-o, for having me as your guide. I’m a talker.”
“Good.” Remus laughed in response. “I’m not, usually, but all of this is just… new. What was it that you were saying doesn’t matter? As far as the wards around the clearing?”
“Right, I got sidetracked by how precious and innocent you are.” Otto teased, then shifted to look over at him.
“Wolves are possessive, but the pack mentality is strong. There’s the hierarchy, of course. We all yield to Gibs because he’s the Alpha. In any form. But there are other aspects of the mentality that extend to bitches, mates and pups.”
“Aren’t, mates and…erm…bitches…” Remus began, wincing at the word. He knew it was a product of the whole ‘honoring the inner wolf’ thing but that didn’t mean he had to like it. “Aren’t they the same thing?”
Otto guffawed, a deep-bellied laugh, and turned red in the face as he slapped his knee.
Remus very much considered the benefit of digging a hole and burying himself in the dirt.
“So bloody Green.” Otto said, bringing a hand up to wipe tears of mirth from his eyes. “One thing at a time, yeah?”
He nodded, lighting another cigarette and picking at his sweater again. Gods, all of this made him feel so stupid. And, if he were honest, resentful. He should know these things. Somebody, somewhere, should have taught him about his nature instead of just locking him up or telling him he wasn’t a real boy. Even his friends, for as much as he loved them all, didn’t seem to understand that he was, in fact, a werewolf. They got it in the general ‘Moony goes wolfy during the full moon’ sense, and they were so supportive, but they tended to overlook it. Not to be mistaken, he wanted to be treated… normal. He just, also, wasn’t fucking normal, and he’d never even been given any sort of chance to find that balance.
“So, s’far as the wards go, we keep people out to make sure the ones who stay behind are safe, but none of the wolves pose any danger to them so long as they carry the scent of someone in the pack.”
Remus’ attention piqued at that, and he stamped his cigarette out as he shifted on the log bench and cleared his throat.
“How do they, um, carry their scent?”
Scent. That was right. Good.
Hermione was supposed to smell like him.
She already did, just a little, somehow.
Fuck, he needed her to smell like him.
“Well, the pups are born with it. They smell like their parents, that’s pretty simple. The other shits a bit more… layered. I guess, to put it bluntly, the easiest way is rutting. Fucking. Werewolf shags someone, person smells like they got shagged by a werewolf for a bit. Then there’s scenting, which is just sort of – you ever seen a cat give a kitten a bath?”
Remus scrunched his brow up in confusion and let out a small laugh. There was never a dull moment with Otto.
“Time or two, yeah.”
“So, it’s sort of similar to that. You’ve got shagging, scenting, general closeness or proximity, it’s all different levels so how long they carry the scent will vary. You’ll see a few of the unmated wolves scenting their bitches before we head out tonight. Of course, marking is sort of the big deal.”
“And what’s marking?” Remus asked, his mind immediately going places it absolutely did not want to go. Sure, he knew wolves were technically canines, but he was more than positive that territorial pissing was where he drew the line.
“What’s marking?” Otto repeated under his breath, and then laughed.
“Biting, boy.”
Remus went rigid and his breath caught in his throat.
“They bite them? They… they turn people?”
“What? No, fuck, boy, I can’t… you know what, this part is gonna be better coming from… just hold on a second.” Otto said as he stood up and brought two fingers to his mouth, letting out a shrill whistle that caused numerous heads to turn toward him.
“Alpha!” he called, waving Gibs over. Gibs nodded and held a hand up to the pup he was talking to – a boy of about fourteen who had recently been sent to live with the pack after he’d been attacked and turned in Bulgaria – and then headed their way.
“Otto, Remus.” Gibs said with a nod. “Alright, now?”
“Yes, Alpha.” Otto responded. “I was answering some questions for Greenie here, but I’ve hit a dead end. I don’t think I’m the right one to explain this part.”
“Oh?” Gibs said, raising an eyebrow. He turned to Remus and extended a hand to help him stand. Remus complied, nodding his thanks, and righted his jumper.
“What’s this dead end, then?”
“Otto was, erm… we were talking about how things go with the members of the pack who aren’t wolves, and he was explaining some things about scents and… sorry, it’s a lot of information.”
“Right.” Otto nodded. “So, I was just getting to explaining the scent thing to the pup, here.”
“Basically, Remus, the gist of it is that, if someone carries the scent of a wolf, they’re marked as that wolf’s property, and the other wolves recognize that and stay away.”
“That sounds simple enough.” Remus said tentatively.”
“So, what’s it you need help explaining then, Otto?”
“Alpha he, uh…” Otto glanced over at Remus and gave him an apologetic smile, then leaned in closer to Gibs and dropped his voice to a low whisper.
“I mentioned the bite and he went all pale and ghosty thinking we turn people.”
“You don’t know about the bonds? Of all things?” Gibs asked Remus incredulously.
Gods, digging that hole was starting to sound more and more appealing. In lieu of a verbal response, Remus cast his eyes down to the ground and shook his head as he squeezed his eyes shut, his cheeks heating in embarrassment. There was so much he didn’t know. While he was happy to learn, he felt so out of his element here.
Remus had always been brilliant. He wasn’t conceited, it was just a fact. He worked hard, studied harder, took his revising serious in school, read everything he could get his hands on, and was lucky enough to have one of those minds that just catalogued knowledge in the exact right way to make it all easily stored and accessible. Perhaps, in truth, it had become a sort of crutch for him over the years.
In lieu of having physical grace, social prowess, any sort of hold on all this werewolf shit, money or a decent upbringing or anything so many of the other kids at school had, Remus had his mind. Being here, now, in this new environment where he wasn’t at least one of the smartest people in the room, if not the smartest, he felt… naked. Exposed.
He wanted to go home.
“Hey.” Gibs said in a calm, steady tone as he reached out and placed his hands on Remus’ shoulders. “Steady, pup. You’re here to learn. I can see your mind spinning. Slow it down and breath.”
“Otto.” He called over his Remus’ shoulder. “We’ve got about four hours to sundown. Go let the Luna know that the pup needs some peace.”
Peace, it turned out, came in the form of muggle marijuana.
Remus had no complaints about this.
He sat near the fire, toying with a smooth rock he’d found on the ground as he took a long drag off of the joint Shawna had rolled and passed to him, and held his breath until his lungs burned, then slowly exhaled, coughing a bit on the release.
It was hardly Remus’ first foray into the world of smoking grass. Sirius had snuck some into the dormitories during their fifth year a handful of times, and he’d found that it was a massive help with the pain in the days after the full moon, so he’d dabbled here and there, but never on a serious level.
This, though, homegrown by the pack, was potent and heady. He dug it.
“There you go.” Shawna said with a bit of a laugh as she crouched in front of him. She rose to her feet and brushed her hands off on her jeans, then nodded to Gibs, who smiled down at Remus.
“See? A little bit of peace goes a long way. I know this shit can get overwhelming, pup. I know it isn’t your scene, and that’s okay. But we’re happy to help you in whatever way we can while you’re here. There are some perks to this wolf shit, you know.” He said with a sly grin as he wrapped an arm around Shawna’s waist and pulled her to his side, then leaned down and nuzzled his face into her neck.
Remus glanced away, blushing at the intimacy of the moment as he took another drag.
Fuck, he missed her.
“Perks, indeed.” A gravelly voice rang out.
He glanced up and gave a polite nod as Bernadette – Bernie, she’d said to call her – settled down in a chair to his left. Bernie was one of the ‘elders’ of the pack. Remus knew better than to ask a woman her age, but he’d placed her at somewhere around her late seventies.
What he couldn’t quite work out, though, was the fact that she was human. There were a few humans living amongst the pack, and then, of course, the pups were basically humans with a tiny dash of wolf-spice, but the humans were all younger and intertwined with werewolves in some way. Bernie just sort of seemed to… be there, though she was very respected.
“I hear you’ve a lot to learn.” Bernie stated as she reached over and took the joint for Remus’ hand.
“I suppose I do, ma’am.”
“Oh, none of that.” Bernie laughed and waved her hand dismissively. “I don’t do titles anymore. Not since my Clarence passed.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Remus said softly, dipping his head.
“It’s the nature of things. One Alpha dies, the next rises. I’d say our replacements are doing pretty well.” Bernie said, gesturing with her wooden walking stick to where Shawna and Gibs had settled on the other side of the fire.
“You were the Luna?” Remus asked in surprise. “But you’re…”
“Human? Yes, well, we are, more often than not, pup. Though it can happen with another wolf, such as with our Alpha and his Luna, that’s even more rare than the bond as a whole.”
Remus chewed his lip in contemplation as he tried to process her words and pulled out another cigarette – he really did need to watch his smoking, as there wasn’t another trip to the nearby village planned until the following week and he was about to run out of the provisions Ford had picked up for him last month, but he was high and jittery from the impending moon and sod it all, he needed something to do with his hands.
“I’m sorry, I’m afraid you’ve lost me.” He admitted as he shifted in his camp chair and brought one of his feet up in the seat to sit sideways and give Bernie his full attention.
“I feel… very out of sorts, with so much of this. I don’t mean to ask so many questions.”
“No mind, pup.” Bernie smiled, her withered face crinkling as she reached out and patted his knee. “That’s what us elders are good for, yeah? Settle in. As I said, there are some perks.”
Remus nodded and took a drag of his cigarette, adjusting in his seat again. He felt like he was crawling out of his skin. He supposed he was – er, his wolf was, given the sun was going down soon, but he hated this part of the buildup the most.
It was like he couldn’t get comfortable no matter what he did. He could practically feel the wolf clawing its way to the surface, driving him mad with its desire to have its way. He fidgeted in his seat, shaking the leg that still had a foot on the ground as Bernie began to speak.
“Otto and Gibsie thought you might do well with a little hope.” she said softly. “While I may not be a wolf myself, I know a thing or two. I’ve birthed seven pups and was mated to my Clarance for over fifty years. I know, I know - I don’t look a day over thirty, but it’s true.”
“Thirty?” Remus put a hand to his chest, feigning shock. “I would have said twenty-five.”
“A charmer.” Bernie laughed. “That will serve you well someday, when you find her.”
He looked toward the fire and took another drag of his cigarette and rolled his neck as he bounced his leg, waiting for Bernie to continue. Sure, yeah, whatever, he’d charm some girl someday. If only he could talk to the only girl he’d ever wanted to charm without his brain melting out of his ears.
“Hmmm.” Bernie hummed, then continued speaking.
“We all know Lycanthropy is a blood curse. Ancient magic. Magic has always had a way of finding its balance. For werewolves, the way in which it finds that balance is by bestowing a gift upon them.”
“A gift?” Remus asked. He rested his elbow on his knee and chewed his nails, rolling his neck again. Soon, now. An hour or so at best before they’d all start to head out to the woods. Gibs had been right, though. A little bit of peace did go a long way. For as jittery as he was, he would normally be pacing a hole through the floor at this point.
“Indeed.” Bernie smiled and turned her head to scan the clearing, looking out at all the various people gathered. Remus did the same, his eyes catching on a couple who – true to Otto’s word – seemed to be engaged in that kitten-bath scenting…thing.
He could do that, he thought. He had, really. Licked and kissed and sucked on Hermione’s neck, and she’d whimpered and sighed and rolled her hips and then – he needed another fucking cigarette.
“What do you know of the familial structure of all of this? You’ve heard some terminology you may not be used to, yes?” Bernie prompted.
“Well, it’s nothing I’ve not heard before. I suppose it all makes sense in the context of things. I don’t rightly care for women being called bitches, though to be fair, I’ve been raised in society and not in a pack and I’m sure that influences my opinion.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” She laughed. “Go on.”
“There’s, um… kids are pups, the… dwelling, place to live, whatever, is the den. Wives are mates, etcetera, etcetera.”
“Right. Right. Wrong.” Bernie said calmly, ticking her fingers as she went.
“Wrong?”
“Wrong. It could be argued that it is sort of the werewolf equivalent of marriage. Of course, we often hold a celebration, much like a wedding ceremony. But there’s a difference, Remus, in being together and being mated. You’ve heard Shawna referred to as Gibs’ mate and assumed it was the same for everyone here?”
“Well… erm, the couples, at least, I supposed…” he brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck.
“A few of them.” Bernie spoke soft and slow, as if she were trying to make sure every word landed in the deepest recesses of his mind.
“Shawna and Gibs, Florence and Ray - he's my youngest pup - and Cheryl and David, they’re all mated pairs. The rest are just… chosen partners. Which, not to be mistaken, is a union just as honored and cherished as the rest. But as I mentioned, nature finds a balance. Sometimes the man or woman chooses their partner. For those lucky few, like my Clarence and I, the wolf chooses.”
The wolf chooses. Remus went still and slowly brough his foot down out of the chair, a strange pricking sensation skating up his spine.
“The wolf chooses?”
“It does. Surely, you’ve heard of mating bonds, being a Wizard? Werewolves are amongst the breeds of creatures who have fated mates, Remus. The wolf chooses.” Bernie repeated, then sighed wistfully.
“I saw my Clarence one day while I was walking home from the church with my little sister and our eyes locked from the opposite sides of the street and we just simply… were. Clary always said it was like everything just snapped in to place.”
…The world seemed to shift beneath his feet, and he felt an eerie sense of realization sinking in, as if every cell in his body had been out of place and he’d never noticed until it all snapped back together the second his eyes met her deep, chocolate orbs…