Epistulae Heroum

“You can destroy better things, those that Neptune gave
to Troy: seek matter in the enemy you kill!”

The Heroides - III: Briseis to Achilles

Sunday 15th September, 1975

One thing Remus Lupin did not often feel was guilt.

The first time he remembered feeling it was when he was nine.

*

It had been a cruel winter. One that sent your bones quivering beneath the layers of blood and skin and veins meant to protect it. His coat had ripped, a hole just at his hip that his gloved had would get caught in whenever he swung his arm. Remus had gotten so frustrated with it that the eighth time he’d done it, he just ripped it all the way down. 

He had just been to the markets. It was fine. He’d been walking there since he was seven and the woman at the smelly fish stall always gave him one of the Werthers Originals she seemed to have an endless supply of in her handbag. It made him think of Mary Poppins’ bag. He’d have to ask his mum if he could have one when he turned ten. 

When he got home, he frowned as he realised the heating hadn’t been on. But was a little bit shocked to find his mum stood in the kitchen, adjusting the thingy on the wall Remus had only just figured out how to work.

”Mum?” Remus asked, “What are you doing?”

His mum never came downstairs. She did everything in her bedroom. She worked as a landlord for a few houses in the area and only had to check on them on rare occasions. Remus had heard her on the phone sometimes talking to handymen, sending them over to fix a dodgy pipe or something boring like that.

”It was cold, Cariad.” She answered, turning around then furrowing her brows at the sight of Remus’ coat, ”What happened?”

”Oh.” Remus looked down at the large rip that now tore almost from his armpit, “It ripped and I got annoyed at it.”

His mum had a funny look on her face for a moment. Remus wondered if she thought she’d be able to fix it. He seemed to recall a sewing machine buried somewhere deep in the garage. 

“So you ripped it more?” His mum asked.

Remus nodded.

”That was expensive, Remus.” She said, her voice taking on a tone that was harsher than usual.

”Sorry.” Remus said, blankly.

”I don’t think you are.” 

Remus looked at her funny. What was that supposed to mean? How do you mean ‘sorry’? It was just what you said when you did something wrong, wasn’t it?

”Remus?”

”Sorry.” He tried again, hoping this time he did it right.

She looked at him funny once more. Remus hoped she’d get back to normal looks soon.

“Well, I suppose you’ll have to go to your room now.” His mum said, nodding as though she was trying to figure out what something meant, similarly to Remus, “And stay in there until I know you’ve learned your lesson.”

“Okay.”

In his room, with the wind rapping bitterly against the windows, Remus felt a horrible stir in his stomach like he was going to be sick. He hadn’t known. Hadn’t known that the coat was expensive. It was just annoying him. And what did she mean by him not meaning it when he said sorry? Remus didn’t like it. He liked knowing. Knowing didn’t make him feel so wrong.

*

Years later, Remus realised it wasn’t the coat he had felt remorse over, nor the fact he didn’t know what it meant to be remorseful. It was the guilt of the feeling he held towards his mother after it.

She had scolded him for something he didn’t know. Something he hadn’t been taught. Something she was supposed to teach him. And that had made Remus angry. But Remus didn’t want to be angry. He saw no point in it. And his mother didn’t deserve that anger. It wasn’t her fault she was the way she was. 

That was where the guilt came in. 

He felt nauseous with it. The burrowing ache, festering deep and telling him over and over that he shouldn’t feel those things towards his poor mum. He knew she cared! He’d seen it. Sometimes Remus wouldn’t have to go to the market on his own, she’d come with him and the woman at the smelly fish stall (he now knew her name was Kerry) would have a Werthers Original for her too.

So why did he feel this anger he hated feeling so much? Was it the wolf? With his other emotions, they were easy to get control of. To rationalise. Why was anger so much different? 

He never liked feeling guilty. 

So, that brought him to now. His teeth tearing at his bottom lip like his hands at that coat, sitting tensely across from his best friend and trying to rationalise best he could.

Barty wasn’t a bad person. Sure, he was rude to Remus. But mostly everyone was rude to Remus. To be fair, Remus was also rude to mostly everyone. But that was never on purpose…

Barty might just be like him. Then again, Remus had never insulted someone for the better part of four years. But that was irrelevant! …sort of.

Evan was Barty’s friend. Always had been since Remus had watched Evan sneak into their dormitory in first year. So that should mean Evan is completely fine. Barty is careful enough that Remus, who literally lived with him, had no idea. So how would his father, who he did not live with, even find out?

That was it. Yep. He wasn’t going to think about it anymore. 

It definitely was going to go away now.

…

Now.

…

…

Now!

It was fine. He would just have to learn to live like this.

”My mother wrote to me.”

Remus looked up.

”What did she say?” He asked, hesitantly.

Pandora pursed her lips, tapping excess ink off of her quill into the ink pot. The corners of her mouth pulling down into a frown. 

“She said that Rabastan wants an answer before Halloween.” 

Shit.

”Shit.” 

“I know.” She sighed, putting her quill down and running her hands through her hair.

”But we talked about this—dirigible plums and everything. Surely you can’t say yes?” Remus scoffed, abandoning his studying completely at this point and crossing his arms.

”Like I said, it’s not that simple.” Pandora said, bunching up her shoulders.

”It is!” Remus protested, flipping off the third year behind them that started to hush them far louder than they were speaking, “It is that simple. You don’t want to marry him. You don’t have to.”

”Well, you don’t know that.” Pandora said, defensively, “What if I do?”

Remus laughed. Actually full on laughed.

”You’re telling me you’re so head over heels in love with Rabastan Lestrange that you want to spend the rest of your life with him.”

Pandora looked down at her lap, her faced screwed up in a way that made Remus very uncomfortable.

”Pandora?”

She didn’t respond. Her lips sealed tightly together by whatever thoughts were forcing their way into her head. 

“Pandora.”

Remus flinched slightly at the abruptness of how she stood up, packing up her things and slinging her bag over her shoulder.

”Wha—where are you going?” Remus immediately spluttered, and when that didn’t work, “You can’t be serious! If he’s anything like his brother, you’ll want nothing to do with him!”

”How do you know what I want?!” She hissed, making Remus draw back, “You-you say that you don’t want my life to be decided for me but that’s exactly what you’re doing right now!”

”Pand-“

”No!” She snapped, walking to the end of the aisle. Remus followed her, not caring about his things that lay still under the desk, “Why does everyone feel the need to decide my life for me?”

”Shut up!” The third year hissed.

”You shut up!” Both he and Pandora replied.

But, before Remus could say anything further, Pandora was storming out of the library. Very un-Pandora-like if you asked him.

The guilty feeling was not going away.

*

Okay, I realised we didn’t actually get into any of the questions in your notes.

Really?

Oh, shut up. I know you were deflecting.

Fuck sake.

Foiled.

Foiled?

I hope you’re laughing. I visibly cringed writing that out.

I am, you’ll be glad to know.

Hey! You’re deflecting again.

;)

Alright.

First question. What electives do you take?

Bollocks. Was it really the first question he asked?

Divination, COMC and muggle studies.

AHA!

There we fucking go!

I’m really fuming now.

Are you? 

I bet you look cute when you’re angry.

Fuck off. That was far too basic a line.

Eh.

Also. 

I thought you were a swot. Those are about the least swotty things you could’ve picked.

And I thought you were an expert on muggles! Why muggle studies?

Well, my best mate dragged me into divination. 

I actually really like COMC.

He can’t exactly say the reason is because he’s a werewolf and likes learning about himself.

And muggle studies is easy marks.

Hm. Suppose I can’t argue with that.

Oh, you’re sneaky with that one. I bet you’ve been scoping out Muggle Studies this whole time.

It may have given me a leg up.

Hm, the question you asked after that you already answered.

So…

What’s your favourite colour?

No.

No?

You’re gonna make fun of me.

Am I, now?

Well, now I have to know.

No!

Alright then. I suppose I’ll just give up on this whole guessing game.

You are ridiculous.

Nice knowing you, Moony.

…

Brown.

Wow.

You were completely right.

BROWN?

I bloody well can’t choose any others, can I?

If I chose any house colours you’d automatically assume I was in that house.

And apart from that we’ve got like orange, which is too ugly.

Pink or purple?

Those speak for themselves.

I thought you weren’t the type to care about things that are girly?

I don’t. They’re just far too aggressive.

That hurts my feelings. Purple is my favourite colour at the moment.

Well, it’s alright when it’s you.

So you choose brown? What about white or black?

Don’t give me that ‘they’re shades’ shit.

Too boring.

And brown is less boring?

Pretty sure the only colour more boring than than brown is beige.

Oi. 

Don’t shit on beige.

Alright then.

What would your favourite colour be if it didn’t link to the houses?

…

Green.

But not ugly turquoise green or the ones that are too vibrant. Yellowy foresty ones.

Wow.

You really are queer.

Remus snickered, bowing his head into his pillow so Crouch wont think he’s mad for laughing at a blank book.

Fuck off.

Oh, Merlin sake. You’re right.

What?

Now my brain is automatically linking you to Slytherin.

Remus cringed. There’s nothing he can really say against that.

I told you!

Eh.

My own fault, really.

Oh well.

Just out of interest.

Definitely not just out of interest.

How do you feel about the whole ‘Slytherins being evil’ thing?

You want my honest opinion?

I’d hope so.

I think it’s a bit of a shit show.

How do you mean?

Like…

I know a lot of people in Slytherin. Most of them I’m not entirely friendly with.

But I know they aren’t trying to be bad people.

I think they’re just following the leader, really.

I don’t really think it’s fair that they’ve been forced into this sort of stereotype. I’ve had plenty of good conversations with Slytherins. 

Remus stopped, stiffening slightly. He felt it in his toes first. His blood running hot up his legs, stomach, shoulders. It travelled down his arms and left his hairs standing straight up and as it reached his mouth it was like all moisture was robbed, dried up from the heat. It was like the statement had been plucked straight out of his brain and splattered onto the pages.

When he’d think back, he wouldn’t think of the excited giggles at silly innuendo or rushing up to his room to see what Padfoot had said next. He’d think of this moment. Realising that they weren’t just two random kids and it wasn’t just a random bit of fun. Realising that, however different they were, their brains were wired and souls were weaved the exact same. 

Well. Shit.

Moony?

Sorry.

Yeah. That’s…

That’s exactly how I feel.

*

At dinner, Remus, clutching the strap of his bag like his life depended on it, walked over to where Pandora was sat. She was acting very unusual and her hair was frizzy with static, something Remus hadn’t noticed before. He knew what it meant, however. You see, when she was struggling, Pandora tended to sleep poorly. She’d toss and turn until her hair looked like those beehive women in magazines and her under eyes ran a somber, dull blue.

When Remus approached, she looked up for a moment, stubborn indignation written over her face. That really threw him off balance.

The biggest difference between him and Pandora was their stubbornness. Where Remus would rather rip his balls off than not finish an essay once he’d started it, Pandora would smile, fold it up and tell Remus she’s got plenty of time and she could continue another day. Where Remus was sure he was right in an argument until clearly being proven wrong (then sulking after he admitted it), Pandora would just laugh it off with an “Oh, how silly of me.”.

Remus never usually saw why Pandora was sorted into Slytherin. Now, it wasn’t hard to.

”Listen… Pandora—“

”I’m not talking to you.” She interrupted, a little like a petulant child.

Now, Remus didn’t really know how to respond to this newfound determination to hate him. So he hoped that the right thing was…

”Alright.” Remus nodded, before turning and searching for another seat.

It felt wrong. Ever since the first day Remus and Pandora had met, they had always sat in that same spot for mealtimes. Remus had counted it once. Seven plates from the far end of the long table. They’d sit at six or eight if they were especially out of it or if someone had taken seven, but they’d never fought before. Not even when she found out Remus was a werewolf.

”Lupin?” Dorcas asked, cocking one brow once she realised Remus was stood on the other side of the table. Next to her was Regulus Black, the pair of them seemed to be deep in conversation, Blacks eyes widening when he saw Remus.

”I’m sitting here because Pandora is being weird.” Remus said, swinging his legs over the bench and dropping his bag under the table and not giving room for protest. 

Regulus narrowed his eyes, while a smirk just played on Dorcas’ lips.

“Reg, this is Remus Lupin—“

”I know who he is.” Black interrupted, or more snapped. Maybe he was where Pandora was getting her gloomy inspiration from. Jesus Christ.

”Yeah.” Remus nodded, starting to shovel potatoes onto his plate, “He’s mates with my dorm mates.”

Regulus did not speak, but he guessed that would happen anyway. He just sort of… stared at Remus. Honestly, you’d think these boys were all queer by the way they acted.

”Barty…” Dorcas said, smirk dropping, “Right.”

Remus looked up for a split second, gauging Dorcas’ expression. Like most of the time, however, it was unreadable. He wondered if she had told Black about Crouch and Evan. Given that was her first thought yesterday, it seemed important. 

“With the book.” Black piped up, to Remus’ surprise. Or more drawled, really. Though Remus didn’t think he communicated any other way. He looked up from where he was loading a healthy amount of beef onto his plate.

“The book?” Dorcas asked.

”I appreciated that, by the way.” Remus said, “You know what Crouch is like.”

Though… It’s not exactly like Crouch would be able to say anything. Nothing that wasn’t hypocritical, anyway.

Regulus looked down, suddenly very interested in his pumpkin juice.

“What book?’ Dorcas reiterated, leaning forwards slightly as if it was the juiciest piece of gossip since Emma Vanity was caught snogging her cousin. Then again, it probably was given cousin snogging seemed to be a trend among Slytherins.

“It’s… well.” Remus grimaced, trying to think of how he could explain it, “I’ve sort of been talking to—someone.”

Regulus’ head shot up, as though not expecting Remus to answer with that. Or maybe not expecting Remus to answer at all.

”Christ. Don’t act too surprised.” Remus said.

”Wait—I don’t get it. What does that have to do with a book?” Dorcas asked.

”It’s got this charm on it. I don’t really know what it is, actually. Er… she-“ Christ, that hurt, “-came up with it.” Remus smiled, sorely, “But it lets us communicate. Like automatic letters.”

Dorcas gasped, hands slamming onto the table and almost upending the gravy pot next to her, “Remus Lupin, you’re blushing!”

Remus scowled at her, “And if you tell anyone I’ll give you the same haircut you gave me.”

At this point, however, he noticed Regulus giving him a look of utmost confusion. Almost concern, actually. Remus was going to acknowledge it, but then Dorcas spoke again,

”Well, who is it?” She seemed to realise her mistake, eyes flicking to Black for a moment before landing on Remus again, “Actually, you can tell me later.”

”It doesn’t matter, I don’t know who it is, anyway.” Remus answered, plainly.

”What?” 

Remus looked up at Regulus who had gone to complete concern now.

”What?” Remus asked.

”You—you’re speaking to someone - romantically - and you don’t know who you’re speaking to?” Regulus asked, Remus wondered if the way his brows were scrunched was giving him a headache.

”I mean, we know plenty about each other.” Remus said, shoving a parsnip into his mouth, “We’ve made a bit of a game out of it, actually—guessing, I mean.”

Dorcas grinned, “That is ridiculously romantic. Wow, Lupin. I think I’m actually impressed.”

Once again, Remus wasn’t given the chance to answer, by Regulus this time, “So—she hasn’t told you who she is?”

”Well, I haven’t said anything about me either.” Remus pointed out.

Regulus abruptly stood up. What is it? Let’s-all-be-moody-to-Remus day?

”Wha—Reg! Where you going?” Dorcas immediately protested, “I thought we were—“

She practically growled as she turned back to Remus, “I swear to god. Oh, wait! I can tell you this!”

Dorcas leaned over the table, bringing her voice to a whisper, “I told Reg about Barty and Evan. We were going to do some investigating tonight to see if it’s true or if you’re just—“

”If you want to live, don’t continue that sentence.”

”Right.” Dorcas smirked, leaning back and turning her face back to a frown, “But we were supposed to go before our patrol tonight.”

“Just go. I can do patrol on my own.” Remus said, simply, though slightly muffled by the potato in his mouth.

“What—just, like—you’ll do it by yourself?” 

“That is what ‘on my own’ generally means, yeah.”

Dorcas narrowed her eyes, “Why?”

”What d’you mean ‘why?’, it’s not the most difficult job in the bloody world.” 

She cocked a suspicious eyebrow, then eventually, “…Right.”

Remus just rolled his eyes.

*

To be honest, Remus was actually buzzing to do patrol on his own that night. The sky was clear, meaning you could see the stars and it was a Sunday so any chance of catching people shagging in the astronomy tower was quite minimal. He only had about a five minute time period where he could loiter there but every single second he was grinning like an idiot. Maybe Remus was a romantic.

He was quite glad to get some alone time, actually. It could finally give him the opportunity to think about the next on the list for the potential Padfoot candidate. 

Sirius Black. 

It was ironic, really, given Remus had just been speaking to his brother not five hours ago. He wondered if he should’ve been comparing Regulus to him. Maybe he could’ve gotten more insight. Sirius Black was arguably the one he’d heard most about, apart from Lockhart, but Remus wasn’t any less torn. 

He was a Gryffindor but at the protest of about 99% of his family, no doubt. That certainly fit the bold personality part. As well as his spot as beater on the Gryffindor quidditch team. He was, however, pureblood. Which was not really a good link. He must have been mental to learn so much about muggles in a family like that.

Black was pretty. Very pretty. And he knew it to. To be fair, only an idiot would think he wasn’t. He had long, curly black hair that would’ve made him look ridiculous if it didn’t suit him so damn much. With Remus’ new mullet, they’d be like Bolan and Bowie. 

There wasn’t anyone about. There never was on Sundays. Nobody was stupid enough to waste their sleep before Monday morning. Remus had a short conversation with Peeves, who asked if he was still smoking and vandalising. Remus asked if he was still watching kids on the toilet. 

Remus thought about the places he’d like to bring Padfoot once they met. He couldn’t wait to show him the map. Take him to Hogsmeade outside of the designated weekends. Oh, shit! They’d be able to go on actual dates then. Ones without the fear of bigoted twats catching them. Then again, Remus had plenty of ideas for hiding spa—

“Cwah!”

Remus was flung forwards, toppling to the ground with an expression of immense confusion on his face. It felt like a giant, invisible boulder had just plonked its way in Remus’ path. Remus tried to reach out, to stop himself from falling but had ended up grabbing what felt like… fabric?

He looked down to see his entire hand had disappeared, as well as half his leg. For a moment, he fully thought he’d gone mad.

That was until he looked up to see three wide-eyed Gryffindors looking down at him.

Three familiar, wide-eyed Gryffindors.

“What—the fuck?” Remus managed to splutter.

”Er… Sorry, mate?” James Potter winced.

”Oh, fuck no. I’m not doing this.” The second boy, Remus recognised him as Peter Pettigrew said, walking away.

That’s when Sirius Black grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back.

”Pete, no!” He sighed, letting go then extending a hand to Remus, “This is that alright one who has Snivelly as his dorm mate.”

Remus just sort of stared at Black’s hand for a moment, open mouthed and wondering how on earth he had just stumbled into a situation alone with his next potential Padfoot. And, as a bonus, he realised that James Potters eyes were, in fact, not blue. So he could cross him off as well. 

”Well?” Sirius cocked a brow.

Remus took his hand, realising that what he must’ve previously been covered in was an invisibility cloak, and allowed himself to be pulled up.

Potter bent down to pick up said invisibility cloak, draping the non-invisible side over his forearm with a dejected huff. Remus let go of Black’s hand and dusted himself off.

”Where did you get one of those?” Remus asked, eyeing it.

”A present from my dad.” Potter grumbled, clearly peeved about being caught.

”Christ.” He knew they were minted, but bloody hell, invisibility cloaks weren’t exactly cheap.

Black’s head snapped up at him, brows furrowed in an eerily similar way to his younger brothers was earlier.

”What did you say?” He asked.

”…Where did you get one of those?”

”No! After it.”

”…Christ?”

Sirius’ head whipped to James, who seemed to also catch on. Peter was decidedly less quick.

”Are you muggleborn?” Black asked in disbelief.

”No?” Remus replied. His face seemed to soften a little.

”I don’t understand. I thought that’s what muggles said instead of like ‘Merlin’ and ‘Godric’.” 

“Oh.” Remus said. To be honest, he thought with the whole ‘being the only Gryffindor’ thing, he’d be a bit less bothered about stuff like that, “I just grew up around a lot of muggles, is all.”

“…And you’re in Slytherin?”

”Yeah?”

”And you’re a prefect?” 

“Yeah.”

The four of them stood there in silence, Black looking down at the floor for a thoughtful moment then glancing at Potter, who seemed to still be nervous about getting caught. Remus wondered why they hadn’t all broken at a run by now.

“Well… d’you wanna tell me why you’re out after curfew?” Remus asked in that awkward way he always did when there was a chance of having to scold someone. He hated that.

”…No?” Sirius offered, experimentally. 

Remus just sighed, “Fair enough.”

Sirius’ eyes widened, then the corners of his mouth pulled a little as he looked back over to his friends.

”You’re setting up a prank.” Remus said, more a statement than a question.

James’ brows knitted together and he looked at Remus quizzically, “How d’you know?”

He gestured to the satchel bag draped over James’ shoulder, “Your bag stinks.”

It was rancid, actually. Remus rather felt like he was going to be sick. He got the impression that to humans, though, it wasn’t as bad.

”Right…” James nodded, nibbling on his bottom lip.

”It’s a mimbulus mibletonia!” Pettigrew practically shrieked, eliciting a series of sighs and groans from his mates.

”Fuck sake, Pete.”

Remus quirked an eyebrow, “I thought those were really rare.”

”They are.” Black grumbled, crossing his arms, “Our mates dad works with them, Frank Longbottom.”

“What’re you planning on using it for?” Remus asked.

Sirius looked at him again, then rolled his eyes, “Fuck it. You’ve already figured half of it out. We were going to line all the cauldrons in professor Slughorn’s classroom with stinksap so they blow up and smell in everyone’s faces.”

“Why?” 

“Why? We can’t just let them get away with it.” Potter said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

”Let who get away with what?” Remus asked.

This seemed to confuse Black further, “I thought they were your dorm mates? They pranked us back after the whole dyeing-everything-red thing. We’re just repaying the favour.” 

“Well, that’s stupid.” Remus scoffed, “If you all keep getting back at each other, it’ll never end.”

”We can’t exactly let them win, can we?” Potter grinned, “What would that say about us?”

”That all of you are idiots?” Remus offered. Surprisingly, he thought he could’ve sworn Black was trying to hold back a smile.

”I think we’re geniuses.” James said, proudly, hoisting the bag strap further up his shoulder, “Mulciber couldn’t even dream something like this. It’s completely unexpected.”

”Yeah.” Remus said, “You’re such geniuses that you’ve taken into account the fact Filch has been practically camped in the hallway outside Slughorn’s classroom since someone nicked a ton of potions ingredients the other night.”

The three of them went quiet at that, Potter muttering something about it not even being them who stole them in the first place.

“There’s a passageway that leads right into the classroom though.” Remus added. Three pairs of eyes snapping up at him.

”What?” Peter piped up.

“I can show you, if you want, but you can’t use it on Tuesday during period three. Me and my mate use it to study.”

”You’re… helping us?” Potter asked, looking thoroughly bewildered.

”Well, yeah. I’ll just not participate tomorrow in potions. I’m sort of pissed at Crouch and Rosier, anyway.” Remus said, simply, hoping it’d calm the guilt that still bubbled in his stomach. It probably wouldn’t, but maybe it’d give him some satisfaction. Plus, it’d be a good opportunity to see if Black was Padfoot.

Sirius let out a funny laugh, sort of high pitched with disbelief, “Well, then. Brilliant.”

”You’re not at all bothered that you’re essentially helping the people who spent the last four years pranking your entire house?” Pettigrew asked, face screwed up in confusion.

”Not really.” Remus shrugged.

“That’s the spirit!” Sirius’ grin widened into a smirk, turning to look at Remus in a way that made him want to check if his insides had fallen out of his arse, “Besides, all is fair in love and stinksap.”