Friendship
Monday, 1 November 1976
“Could you please pay attention, I came here to study, not supervise nap time.” Lily scolds.
“Sorry, Lils, but I’m a sleepy guy, it can’t be helped.” Remus shrugs, sporting his sweetest smirk. His mirth lasts only until he’s smacked upside the head by his best friend’s potions text. “Oi! Watch it, Red!”
“Why did I ever agree to study with you two?” Regulus adds, doing a poor job of stifling a yawn.
“I don’t think we ever actually invited you … you sorta just showed up and you have that ‘abandoned puppy’ vibe that’s difficult to turn away…”
“Well put, Remus,” Lily laughs, “I know it was Halloween last night, but you seem extra sleepy,” she turns to Remus with a knowing grin, “spill.”
Try as he might, Remus is absolutely incapable of hiding his grin. “Sorry, Lil, I’m not sure our present company wants to hear about it.”
Her bright green eyes go wide, knowing immediately what Remus means. “FINALLY!” she shouts, as Regulus starts groaning. The group’s outburst is met by a harsh “shush” from Madam Pince.
Lily, never one to push the boundaries of what might get her in trouble, opted to stop shouting and, instead, start up a silent conversation with Remus. Not that either party was actually blessed with the power of telepathy, but the pair had been friends long enough that simple looks conveyed entire sentences. Regulus, having spent so much time with them over the years, was able to pick up on some of it. But even the most skilled legilimens wouldn’t be able to interpret the nuances of the looks shared between the two friends. If you were to poll the Hogwarts student body, the consensus would be that James Potter and Sirius Black were the strangest, most intertwined pair of friends, but those students who were more keenly observant would be quick to tell you that it wasn’t the two rowdiest marauders; no, it was Remus Lupin and Lily Evans.
While there was certainly no questioning the fraternal bond between James and Sirius, the friendship between Lily and Remus was simply something else. From the moment they met they were able to read each other in a way that no one else could. They rarely had to resort to something as simple as words to communicate. Over the past six years, they’d been there for each other when no one else had. They’d seen each other at their absolute worst and had celebrated each other’s triumphs with the utmost fervor. When you really thought about it, there was nothing that compared to the love between Remus and Lily.
* * *
Wednesday, 4 November 1981
Dumbledore’s smile grew slightly, offering the smallest glimpse of light in the darkness that had settled in the flat, a glint of mirth flashed in his eyes. “I had forgotten.”
“Forgotten what, sir?”
“About you and Lily.”
“I’m sorry, sir, I’m going to have to ask you to elaborate.”
“Everyone knew about James and Sirius. The pair of them were like brothers. The moment they sat across from each other at the Gryffindor table I knew we were in for a treat. The look on Minerva’s face told me she was thinking the same thing.”
Remus was trying his best not to break down sobbing in front of Dumbledore, but he couldn’t help the silent tears that were streaking down his face. He remembered that day so clearly. He’d never felt as nervous as he did walking into the Great Hall. He knew very little about Hogwarts, Dumbledore had told him that his father had been a Ravenclaw, and he’d heard all about Gryffindor and Slytherin from James and Sirius on the train, but he’d never known what it was like to belong somewhere. The idea of being given a house full of likeminded people to befriend was a foreign concept to eleven-year-old Remus Lupin.
Sirius had been sorted first of their group. The hall went silent when the hat called out “Gryffindor!” Sirius’ face had looked panicked before pure joy washed his features clean. Remus had never seen anything more beautiful. Lily had been next. When she had been sorted, she shared a sad look with a boy Remus would later learn was named Severus. After a couple of minutes, McGonagall had called out, “Lupin, Remus.” As he walked up, Remus had wondered if he could ask the hat to be in Ravenclaw, he wondered if he might like that connection to his father. But as he sat down and the hat was placed on his head, the only thing in his mind was Sirius’ smile. “Ah,” the hat had murmured, “I see many things in you. Intelligence, kindness, ambition, and bravery. You could do great things on any of these paths … great things.” Remus hadn’t exactly been prepared for a conversation with a sentient hat, so he remained silent. The hat seemed to be thinking hard, harder than it had for any other student. The hall was absolutely silent. Remus was just starting to worry that, maybe, the hat didn’t work right on werewolves. That his secret would get out before he’d even been given a house. He was absolutely spiraling. Thankfully, the hat was merciful, “well,” it mused, “I guess it’ll have to be … Gryffindor!”
Remus stood on shaky legs and made his way toward the long table full of cheering students who were grinning from ear to ear. He tried to take in the scene but was quickly distracted by a pair of red-headed twins about halfway down the table who were roaring with, frankly, concerning authenticity. Remus decided he’d wonder about that later as he turned back toward the other new students, trying to make eye contact with Sirius. His plan was thwarted. She’d reached up and grabbed his arm, pulling him down next to her before sticking out her hand, smiling wide and saying, “Lily Evans, nice to meet you.”
“Remus Lupin,” he’d said before shaking her outstretched hand, “it’s nice to meet you too, Lily Evans.”
He’d then looked up to the head table, to see if Dumbledore was happy with what the hat had chosen. Dumbledore had slightly lowered his half-moon glasses and winked and grinned before forcing his mouth back into the pleasant, slight smile he always wore and turning back to the sorting ceremony.
Looking up now, Remus could tell that Dumbledore was reliving the same memory.
Now, instead smiling while the light of the Great Hall’s floating candles danced off his eyes, Dumbledore looked weary. Remus thought about how Dumbledore had been fighting this war his entire life. He thought about how the struggle between good and evil would continue to cast a shadow over their lives. But, instead of sinking under that weight, Dumbledore had continued to move forward. He always talked about the “greater good,” and Remus had no reason to think that the phrase represented anything other than Dumbledore’s commitment to ensuring light overtakes the dark.
“All the professors talked about Sirius and James,” Dumbledore continued, “despite their antics, most of the staff found them quite entertaining. We were touched to see the way James and the Potters took Sirius in. Many of the professors would joke that those two were their ‘favorite friends.’ But I was always partial to you and Miss Evans.”
Remus wasn’t sure how to respond. His mind was so clouded by the loss he’d just experienced, by the fear of what was happening to Sirius, and by his questions about what was going to happen to Harry. But the warmth of Dumbledore’s voice and the joy of the memories his words evoked was enough to keep Remus from getting lost entirely.
Realizing that Remus was having trouble speaking, Dumbledore continued, “the rest of your friends were loud. They commanded attention and they took up space. People were drawn to them because of how palpable their joy was. It might have been easy to slip into the shadow of James Potter and Sirius Black,” Dumbledore paused, an emotion that Remus didn’t quite recognize flashed across his eyes. It would be quite some time before Remus thought back to this moment, before he realized what that look had signaled. He cleared his throat before continuing, “but you and Miss Evans were comfort. Students were drawn to the two of you because they knew they’d be heard. Minerva and I were so proud when Professor Flitwick told us one night that you’d asked to use his classroom to host a study group. I was certainly entertained by the ways your roommates brought you out of your shell, but I knew that the study group had been because of Miss Evans’ influence. She pushed everyone to be better, she always saw the best.”
“She did,” Remus finally spoke. Feeling the need to share his most treasured memory of Lily Evans Potter with someone, he continued, “when Lily figured out I was a werewolf, the first thing she asked me was if I was in pain.” Remus had to pause to breathe, but Dumbledore didn’t interrupt him, he allows Remus to sit in the silence.
“It was the end of Fourth Year; the full moon had been a day or two before we left for the summer. I had separated myself from the others on the train to try and avoid their questions and stares, but Lily found me.” Remus was well and truly crying now. “Lily found me in a compartment by myself in the back of the car. She came in quietly and sat down next to me instead of across from me. She reached out and held my hand. We sat like that, in peaceful quiet, for almost an hour before she spoke. All she said was ‘I think I know what you’re hiding,’ and from the look in her eyes I knew she was right. I got ready for my whole world to crash around me, I tried to prepare myself for losing my best friend. Then I asked her what she thought she knew. When James and Sirius figured it out, they all but shouted ‘are you a werewolf?!’ at me which had been incredibly off putting but, in their defense, they were twelve.”
Remus paused, letting the ghost of a laugh pass his lips, “but Lily being Lily, just asked ‘when were you bitten?’ When I told her I had been five, she had to take a minute to tamper down her obvious anger before she asked if I was in pain. I didn’t see any point in lying to her, so I told her yes. I told her about being locked away to transform by myself and about how the wolf would get restless and hurt itself and about how I was scared, every single time, even though I’d been doing it for a decade, I told her about how I was afraid to get angry because every time I was angry I could feel the wolf just below the surface, I told her about every part of it that caused me pain and she just listened. When I was done, she squeezed my hand and said, ‘if I can take any of the pain away, tell me and I’ll do it.’ And I knew she wasn’t just saying it. Lily had been one of my closest friends since the very beginning, but that was the moment she became my best friend. I just nodded and then we sat in silence, hand in hand, the rest of the way to Kings Cross.”
Sharing that story, sharing the moment Lily had become everything to him, broke the dam. Remus was no longer able to wrangle his sobs, and Dumbledore just let him cry. He let him break down and feel the grief, he let Remus accept the pain. It had been 6 years since Remus had felt pain without Lily there to share it.
* * *
When Regulus had started Hogwarts, a year after his older brother, he’d come in ready to hate all of Sirius’ friends. For so long, it had just been Sirius and Regulus against the world. Then, Sirius had to go and meet James bloody Potter and his crew of misfits. Regulus loathed them. When he stepped onto the train behind his brother, he wore a mask of absolute contempt. He was determined not to let any of them crack this façade. Then he saw James and Regulus understood. He realized very quickly that no amount of resolve would deter James Potter. He was sunshine personified and Regulus, a creature of the night, was terrified. Still determined not to break, he moved himself as far away as he could from James and found himself sitting next to Remus.
Regulus had heard his brother talk about Remus. It was different from the way he talked about James. James Potter was the savior; he was everything good in the world. Sirius spoke of him with an air of reverence, like he was something untouchable. Regulus didn’t see how any human could earn that kind of praise; he wasn’t old enough or mature enough to understand why Sirius saw James as his salvation. All he understood was that someone was taking his brother. But the was Sirius spoke of Remus was different; Remus was still all that was good in the world, but he was good because his life was hard.
Regulus didn’t know the specifics, but he could tell from Sirius’ stories that Remus had demons. He knew that there was something dark inside his brother’s friend that no one quite understood. Regulus, ever slightly too smart for his own good, had thought that Remus must be sick of people trying to pick him apart and understand that darkness. He thought, maybe, the older boy deserved a friend who knew what it felt like to live in the darkness and be scared of the light; no matter how much they were drawn to it. He thought, maybe, Remus and he could help each other find a way to let the light in.
Regulus wanted to be near Sirius, but he struggled to understand how. His brother had changed in his first year at Hogwarts, he’d become someone that Regulus wasn’t quite sure he knew anymore. But he still wanted to keep him close. He couldn’t befriend James, that was simply too confusing, and Peter didn’t entirely pique Regulus’ interest; but Remus … Remus was someone who Regulus could see himself befriending.
And now, years later, sitting at their table in the library, Regulus found himself feeling perfectly at home with the two Gryffindors. Over time, Regulus had figured out what exactly had caused the darkness to settle on Remus. He was honored to be one of a very select number of people whom Remus confided in about his specific brand of dark. Regulus had figured it out on his own. He’d suspected for quite some time, but his suspicions were confirmed the summer before his fourth year when he found his older brother sitting on the roof of Grimmauld Place staring up at the full moon; his face a mix of fear, pain, and … love? This precise mixture of emotions brought on by the lunar phase was enough for Regulus to know; Remus Lupin was a werewolf.
Regulus wanted to ask questions; he wanted Sirius to confirm – out loud – that his suspicion was true. But, instead, he chose that moment to comfort his brother. Sirius had spent his entire life shielding Regulus and comforting him when that shield wasn’t enough. So, now, Regulus swallowed his curiosity, his fear, and his lingering prejudice and sat next to his brother in silence. Sirius didn’t resort to sarcasm or sneer and as Regulus what he was doing following him around; both signs that he was hurting far more than Regulus had imagined. After a couple of minutes in companionable silence, Regulus reached out and took his brother’s hand.
They sat on the roof until the moon set and Sirius let out a breath he’d been holding since twilight.
Regulus didn’t ask any questions, he just squeezed his brother’s hand and climbed back inside. No words were needed, he understood.
Regulus spent the rest of that summer in the Black Family Library reading everything he could about lycanthropy. Not an ounce of the literature was comforting. Regulus was afraid; not for himself, but for his friend. The accounts of what lycanthropy did to a person’s body over time were horrific, the description of the transformations as something akin to the Cruciatus curse made Regulus’ skin crawl, and the idea that – once a month – Remus was forced to lose his mind and writhe in pain was enough to reduce Regulus to tears.
When they’d gotten back to school that fall, Regulus had pulled Remus aside, ready to ask all of the questions he’d perfectly formulated, but when he found himself looking up at his friend, all he could do was pull him into a hug.
Remus understood immediately. After a deep breath, he simply asked, “how’d you know?” and Regulus explained. He didn’t miss the blush that spread across his friend’s cheeks at his description of Sirius on the roof. And then he’d shared the one slightly helpful piece of information he’d discovered that summer, “I read everything I could find, none of it was exactly comforting,” at that, Remus let out a genuine laugh, the reaction gave Regulus the confidence to continue, “a lot of the accounts talked about how the lingering joint pain causes the most long term issues, is that true?” Remus just nodded, not entirely sure how to process the situation and the kindness Regulus was showing. Regulus’ reaction was so similar to Lily’s that Remus found himself on the verge of tears.
Regulus had then explained that he’d begun to read the books on healing in his family’s library. While these books were distinctly harder to come by than those on dark creatures, he was able to find something helpful. With a shy smile, Regulus reached into his bag and pulled out a small crock.
“It’s a healing poultice, it’s definitely something Madam Pomfrey would’ve been able to make, but I’m assuming you haven’t been entirely honest with her about how much pain you’re in,” he said, his shy smile growing into a playful smirk. Remus huffed a laugh, “you know me too well, Black.” Regulus shook his head, ever the martyr, he thought to himself, “you just rub it into the skin over wherever the joint pain is. It should help to relieve it and, as far as I can tell, there’s no limit to how often you can use it. Just let me know if it works, and please tell me if there are any side effects. Don’t lie to me Remus, I care about you.”
Remus’ resolve was quickly crumbling. Before he could break down blubbering in the middle of the corridor, he reached out and pulled Regulus into another hug, “thank you, Reg, you’re an incredible friend.”
* * *
Monday, 1 November 1976
Now, sitting in the library, watching his two friends have a silent conversation that Regulus only half understood, he found himself smiling. Something that, for the longest time, he didn’t realize he knew how to do.