Shoelaces
Nora Lupin was used to doing things herself.
When she was four years old, Nora taught herself how to tie her shoe laces. She was very observant, and always noticed the formation of shoes lined up by the door with astounding detail. Mum’s shoes always had the laces loose and tucked up into the shoe. Dad’s shoes still had their laces done up. Nora always heard Mum complaining fondly about when he kicks off the shoes without untying the laces. She says it will ruin the shoes. Dad always laughed and said he could untie them with magic. He would then proceed to flick his wand and the laces would instantly become loose, ready for him to slip back on.
One day, Nora went to the front door and grabbed Dad’s shoes and her own. She sunk down onto the floor and looked at the knots on her father’s footwear. Studying them, she tried to replicate the knots on her own shoes, tangling the long laces between her short fingers. After 42 minutes of experimenting, she managed to tie a bow that looked the same as Dad’s laces. Dad never noticed what she did.
Even years later, Nora still remembered that day. She barely saw Mum and Dad that day, with one of them briefly coming to the kitchen to get her a meal a couple times. Both of them were tending to her elder brother, although Nora was too young to know why at the time. When she got older, she found out it was because it was the day after the full moon.
Nora never got to see her brother much when she was young. Mum and Dad said he was sick. She remembered Dad telling her once that he might be dangerous, that she might not be safe. He’s my brother, Nora had thought indignantly, he wouldn’t hurt me. The only times Nora saw him was occasionally at mealtimes, or in the hallway on the way to the bathroom. When she looked back on this time, Nora wondered how her parents kept them apart so much, since it wasn’t a very big house. More of a cottage, to be fair.
When Nora was six, Mum and Dad started to let her play with her brother. They told her that he had a medical condition, that he is sick for a few days each month. Nora didn’t mind. A brother only some of the time is better than no brother at all.
Remus Lupin is two years older than her. When Nora looked at her brother closely for the first time, she discovered that they looked alike. They had the same tawny brown hair, and the same shape in their eyes. Remus’s eyes were a warm amber color though, while her eyes were the same shade as their mother. Nora sometimes thought that his eyes resembled an animal’s eyes, with the occasional tinge of yellow showing. Nora also noticed the scars strewn across his body, but those didn't matter much, she concluded. He had a quiet voice, and liked to fiddle with his fingers. Nora decided she rather liked her older brother.
Every night after that, Remus would come into Nora’s room and hop onto the bed with her. He would bring muggle books from Mum’s bookshelf and read them to her. Nora would listen intently, giggling when he impersonated the characters voices. On nights that Remus was unwell or had to go down to the cellar, she would read the book herself. When her brother was well again, he would pretend to be really upset about it, even though both of them knew he could catch up with her within ten minutes. With the two siblings homeschooled, they had all the time in the world, and Nora loved it.
—
One of the first clear memories Remus had of his sister was when they were allowed to play with each other again. He was eight. Nora had looked him over top to bottom with those clear brown eyes, long tawny strands of hair tucked behind her ear. “Does it hurt?” she had said in her soft voice.
Remus knew she had looked at the number of silver scars criss crossing over his body. It was hard to believe that just a few years ago, there were barely any scars. Now they weaved across his arms and legs. And yes, it did hurt. It hurt so much that he would scream at the top of his lungs, even though nothing could prevent the agony. It hurt so much that sometimes he passed out from the pain. It hurt so much even when the scream transformed into an anguished howl. It hurt so much that afterwards he would be left panting for air, shivering in his own sweat on the cold stone floor. And the pain wouldn’t stop there. Scratches, bruises, gashes, deep and shallow. They all came with a different level of pain.
“Just a bit,” Remus had answered quietly with a small smile to Nora. And in that moment, Remus decided he would always protect his little sister from the pain. No one deserved it, especially not her. And Remus could see from the look in her eyes that she was thinking the exact same thing. Nothing could separate them after that moment.