It’s Magic
“Love is a thing full of anxious fears.”
The Heroides - I: Penelope to Ulysses
Thankfully, Remus’ memory hadn’t failed him completely so he didn’t need to go back to the dormitory to retrieve Mabel. The problem with the passageway, however, was that Remus had only ever used the side of the passage that emerged in the potions classroom. Because the other end was in Slughorn’s chambers.
“How are we supposed to get in?!” James asked, frantic and pulling on the arm of Remus’ robes like a child, “It’s past midnight, surely he’ll be asleep by now.”
”Exactly.” Remus said, carefully prying his arm away and walking a little further away.
”Exactly?” Pettigrew piped up.
”The passageway goes from the left of the fireplace, there’s a brick in the hearth that you have to press down and it opens up.” Remus continued, hands in his pockets, “And his bedchambers are in a separate room to the main area. We can sneak in and out easy.”
”Spend a lot of time in Sluggy’s chambers?” Black asked from behind him, Remus could hear the smirk in his voice.
”Yeah.” Remus replied, “He’s got arthritis in his hands so he needs me to wank him off.”
The corners of his mouth pulled up as he heard the splutter, like Sirius was trying to decide whether he should laugh. Potter let out a bark, nearly doubling over. But it was cut short as Remus’ ears picked up a distant patter of footsteps mingling with their own.
He whipped around, “Under your cloak—quick.”
”What?” Black asked, wide eyed.
”Someone’s coming.”
Then Remus was furiously covering all three of the too-large boys with the too-small cloak, adjusting where parts of them poked out. Seconds later, as predicted, two Ravenclaw prefects rounded the corner. Remus found himself stood awkwardly in the middle of the corridor, not quite knowing what to do.
He struggled not to let out a groan as he saw none other than Gilderoy Lockhart chatting to a very put-out looking Hestia Jones. The pair of them stilled when they saw Remus, their faces contorting curiously.
”Lupin?” Lockhart spoke.
”Alright, Lockhart?” Remus nodded, rather ungracefully. Pandora always said he looked a bit like he was trying to shit when he was awkward.
Lockhart gave a haughty scoff, looking him up and down with judgement, “What’re you doing here? This isn’t your section. Alone, as well?”
”I-uh, Meadowes isn’t feeling well.” He said, “I’m heading to get Madam Pomfrey. She doesn’t think she can make the journey.”
He hoped - prayed - Dorcas would back him up if asked.
“You left her on her own?” Hestia asked, raising a curious brow down the hallway behind.
”She’ll be fine.” Remus shrugged with a dismissive wave of his hand.
The pair of them stared at him for a moment and Remus didn’t know whether to thank the universe for putting him a place with two potential Padfoots or curse it for the ungodly inconvenient situation.
“You know us Slytherins.” Remus added stiffly with a pointed nod of his head and a laugh even he could tell was odd, “Always looking out for ourselves.”
The two prefects glanced at each other. Remus was glad he provided the only source of commonality that poor girl was going to find with Gilderoy Lockhart, at least. Then Lockhart gave a dramatic huff and put his hand on Hestia’s shoulder in a way that was more than likely supposed to be chivalrous, which she promptly shook off.
”Brilliant.” Remus nodded, “Well. I best be off or Filch’ll murder me for the sick he’ll probably have to clean.”
They both grimaced and Remus took off down the hallway, hoping the marauders would follow behind him. Once he was out of their line of sight, he sighed and sunk against one of the windows of which rain was now rapping onto, making it almost impossible to hear incoming footsteps. Maybe he should’ve brought Caroline.
“Whoo.” Remus heard a voice - Potter, he realised - breathe. Tracking the scent of the stinksap, he reached forwards and pulled the cloak off once again, revealing three highly dishevelled-looking boys.
”Hate that sod.” Black commented as Potter draped the cloak over his forearm.
”Come on.” Remus said, “Let’s go.”
And they did. It took no less than five minutes to get to Slughorn’s chambers, given they were already on the sixth floor, and, once they arrived, he put a finger to his lips to shush them. Remus then, with curious looks from the boys, bent down to take off his shoes.
”What are you doing?” Peter mouthed. To which Remus held the ankle of his shoes in each hand and made a walking motion, then pointed to his ear to try and tell them it’d dampen the sound of footsteps. They seemed to get it as they quickly followed suit, James having trouble holding both his shoes and the cloak at the same time.
Remus pulled his wand from his pocket with extra care and muttered an almost unheard, “Alohamora.”
The lock clicked and Remus winced at the noise, though relief flooded through him as he realised the sound of the remaining embers of the fire crackling drowned it out. He’d been in Slughorn’s chambers once before in his first year. Dumbledore had instructed that he’d meet his head of house there on the first moon to be escorted to the shack but Slughorn kept giving Remus wary looks the whole time through making their way.
The moon after, McGonagall had started escorting him, transfiguring into a cat to touch the knot at the base of the willow. Slughorn had barely spoken to him since.
Slughorn’s chambers were grand, to say the least. All high ceilings, leather furniture and tables of the finest glazed wood. Brass candelabras with candles burned to their wick’s end and crystal decanters of mead. It was all very pretentious yet lazily strewn, a lot like Slughorn himself.
The four of them entered on the tips of their toes, faces screwed tensely as they padded to the Persian rug in the middle of the room to muffle their feet against the lacquer. Remus then gestured towards the hearth. It was covered in a very handprint-prone layer of ash and cinders which was not ideal. It appeared, however, that Remus was not the only one who noticed this because, seconds later, Black was kneeling next to the copper fireside companion set and reaching for the brush that hung onto it.
The next few moments were like watching a game of operation, trying to get the metal brush off of the equally metal rack without making a single noise. Sirius’ palm closed around the handle and his fingers slipped expertly into the crack where it hung, creating a barrier and letting him unhook the brush silently. Remus hadn’t even realised he had been holding his breath until Sirius turned around and flashed a grin that made it questionable if he had lungs at all.
Black raised one eyebrow at Remus and he got the message, kneeling on one knee (his other was still aching from the moon) next to him and pointing at the brick. He watched as the dark-haired boy deftly swept away the ash then pressed down, the brick sinking further in than the ones around it and a disgracefully loud rumble elicit a gasp from Sirius.
Remus grabbed the brush and swept the ash back over where it’d been blanketed before, not caring how much noise he made as he hooked it back onto the rack. Without thinking, he grabbed Black’s hand to pull him up and the four of them were rushing to the crack that’d now emerged in the wall to the left of the fireplace, just as Remus had said. He slid the wall to the side, creating a further rumble, then ushered them all in with a small, “Quick!”. When he shut it, he pressed his ear to the crumbling stone to listen in.
Again, silence apart from the fire.
“It’s fine.” Remus breathed, “Lumos.” He turned around to see all three boys visibly sag, James against the wall.
“Well, fuck me.” Sirius scoffed, “The old codger can sleep through anything. I didn’t even need to fuss about with the whole—“ he gave a wave of his hand. Erotic brush grabbing, Remus’ brain supplied for him.
“That was brilliant!” James hissed, grinning like a maniac and turning to walk down the dim hallway, “How did you even know this was here?”
Remus shrugged, “Just looked for it.”
He could’ve sworn he just saw Blacks shoulders bob as Peter flashed him an incredulous look.
“What?” Remus asked, looking at them through the wandlight, “I got bored so I started looking for secret passageways. It’s not hard once you get your head around the way whoever build them thinks.”
”And what way is that?” Black asked, teasingly.
”Well—I dunno! You just see where the walls look dodgy. Where brass is disguised as copper.”
”Brass is disguised as copper?”
”Oh, god sake. Yes. And then you just ‘revelio’ ‘til you find something.” Remus huffed, shaking his head. Sirius was definitely laughing now.
They continued down the path in silence and, as they did, Remus realised he’d done just about nothing to evaluate whether Black was anything like Padfoot. And, the further they went, he registered one fatal flaw to his plan. Even if he was Padfoot, Black wouldn’t be interacting the same way to Remus than he would to Moony because he didn’t trust Remus. That and he’s hardly going to flirt with him.
Remus realised that he’d have to either: 1. Go completely off of material and factual things, or 2. Get Black to trust him. Number two didn’t look very appealing given Remus could hardly pull it off in less than a few hours, not to mention he had no idea how to do it. So, number one it was.
This time, James took it upon himself to shift the large stone wall between them and the potions class by himself. Remus had to give it to him, quidditch must’ve really been paying off.
”Muffliato.” Peter muttered at the door of the classroom as they entered. He locked it then looked back as he pocketed his wand, “You said Filch was outside.”
Remus shrugged, looking around. He had never really been in the Potions classroom out of class. He had told them that he and Pandora hung out here on Tuesdays, but that just applied to all the passageways and they never knew which one they were feeling until the time came so they had to keep his options open.
Along the walls were potions quietly bubbling over fires with name tags to whomever they belonged. A few of them had glass stirrers charmed to give them a mix every few minutes. The fires from them gave the room just enough light to see without igniting any of the sconces and Potter immediately set to opening his bag, grimacing as the scent was let out.
“What are you doing?!” Pettigrew hissed. Remus turned around to see Black behind Slughorn’s desk with a shit-eating grin on his face, starting to rifle through the drawers.
”We’ve always been in a rush every time we’ve been in here after curfew before. I’m just having a nosey.”
Remus rolled his eyes and set to gathering some of the cauldrons at the back, placing them down on various desks near Potter.
“Aha!” Sirius announced, stood in front of an open cabinet, “I thought student files were kept in offices.”
“Yeah, well. Sluggy’s always been an idiot.” Peter said, “No offence, Lupin.”
”None taken.” Remus said, heaving another one down then muttering, “Believe me, I know.”
“Ho ho. Belby got 63% on his theory OWL. He’s gonna get so much shit from his brother.” Black snickered, flicking through one of the files.
Just as he did, Remus looked up to see James chuckling at him silently.
”What?” Remus muttered, putting his fifth cauldron onto the counter.
”Nothing.” James grinned, starting to extract the stinksap, “Just didn’t expect you to help.”
”Snivelly, the swot.” He heard Sirius mutter, putting another file back, “Hey, I think they’ve got us all!”
Potters face lit up, “What does Evans’ say?”
“Really? That’s the first thing you go to?” Peter rolled his eyes, though making his was over to Black and starting to look through a few files of his own.
”’Course it is!” James said. Remus guessed he would go over, but his hands were currently covered in stinksap.
“Not all of us, actually.” Sirius then said, “Where’s your file, Lupin?”
Remus picked up a cauldron and shrugged awkwardly with the weight. Though, he knew exactly why his file wasn’t there. All of his files were kept in Dumbledore’s office. Not very clever to keep a file on a werewolf laying about, especially when that’s about all he’s ever done to get logged for, really. Apart from skiving lesson.
”Oi, instead of making the poor bloke we roped into this do all the work, maybe help?” Potter spoke up, skinning the mimbulus mimbletonia. It looked a bit like aloe vera on the inside, all slimy and such.
“Ugh, fine.” Sirius groaned, thrusting a rather large file Remus suspected to be his own back into the cupboard and shutting it, Peter doing the same before the pair of them started gathering cauldrons too, “But nobody was roped. Lupin was very much willing, as I remember.”
”Eh.” Remus shrugged, cheekily, a smirk pulling at his lips, “Could still give you detention.”
Strangely, though it could’ve been a trick of the light, he could’ve sworn he saw Black’s cheeks redden a bit as their eyes met in passing. But he looked down into the cauldron he was holding when Remus passed him next. Though, Remus wasn’t sure what he’d be embarrassed at.
With the four of them now, they made quick work of gathering the cauldrons and then began helping James skin the plant. It was dreadful. If he thought the plant being in the bag was bad, there weren’t even words for the level of this. Every slice he felt bile threatening his throat until his spit was laced with it and he was solely breathing out of his mouth. The disgusting bubbling from the cauldrons behind them did not help one bit. So, eventually, he decided he’d try and distract himself with what he came here to do.
”You, er, you lot prank a lot then?” He asked, looking up.
The three of them seemed to share a smirk so identical you’d think they were all brothers if you discounted their appearances.
“Yeah.” James answered, “Yeah, we do.”
”How come?” Remus asked, not really sure where he was going with this.
“Fun, isn’t it.” Pettigrew said, Remus’ stomach lurched as he watched him mash the plant with the mortar and pestle.
“Yeah, but there’s got to be a reason, hasn’t there?” Remus continued, “Politically.”
“Politically?” Black grinned.
”Oh, you know what I mean.” Remus smirked, looking down and moving onto the next section of this abomination they call a plant.
“Well.” Sirius continued, “It started as a bit of fun, really, and we were weirdly good at it.”
James snickered.
”But then people started pranking back… and we couldn’t just leave it at that.”
”People?” Remus asked, looking up at Black with a cocked eyebrow. They held each others gazes for a moment. It was challenging, in a way.
“Fine.” Sirius eventually said, though his lips quirked up at the corners, “Slytherins.”
This threw Remus off. It had been going so well so far. Their personalities matched up (minus the flirting), the whole ‘insane family’ thing was evident (the days’ prior events a sound example) and there hadn’t been any misalignments. But, with what Padfoot had said earlier about his opinions on the house, it wasn’t looking good.
”How come?” Remus offered, still looking at him even though he was now looking away.
”Like I said, we couldn’t just let them get away with it.” He shrugged.
”And, no offence, but the majority of you are gits.” Potter spoke up.
Black was quick, looking up and shooting him a glare, “James.”
There.
That was it.
The confirmation shot an excited jolt through his body and he couldn’t help the smug grin he tried to hide, looking down whilst the two of them continued their conversation amongst themselves. It was like when you realised the next card you’d place on the deck would let you win. Like the point in a murder mystery novel when you figure it out before the protagonist. Remus was hanging onto every word.
“Well, it’s cliche!” Sirius protested, “Generalisation.”
”So what if it’s generalisation?” James retorted. And it suddenly occurred to Remus that these boys were a lot more clever than he gave them credit for, “It’s still true.”
”Lupin’s alright.” Peter chipped in, after being curiously quiet. Remus would give him a smile in thanks but none of them seemed to be paying attention to him.
”Yeah. One in—what? 100?” Potter scoffed, “If we’re going by statistics, 1% of Slytherins being ‘alright’ calls for a bit of generalisation, I think.”
”They’re made that way.” Black pointed out, “They’re just acting how everyone else around them acts. It’s not their fault they were taught different.”
”You were taught different. Yet here you are.” James said, gesturing to Sirius’ red tie.
”Yeah, well, we all know how good a job I did at listening to my parents.” Sirius said. Remus half thought it would shut James up completely. However, the boys just seemed to share a smirk.
”You’re both right, actually.” Remus said, finally, three heads whipping to him.
”We are?” James asked.
”Yeah.” Remus nodded, “Majority of them are twats, but they’re just doing what they see. Hierarchies in Slytherin are like you wouldn’t believe and everyone wants to get in people’s good books. They were brought up on the instinct to follow to survive. I was brought a bit different to how they were.”
He was brought up on the instinct to—well… bite.
“Why don’t you want to get into their good books?” Sirius asked, raising a brow in his direction.
”Honestly? I don’t really give a shit what they think.”
***
Monday 16th September, 1975
Good morning.
Morning, Moony!!
That was quick.
Yes. I’ve been waiting all night with the book open for you to write.
It’s been a truly tiring process. But you are just so, so great I couldn’t pass it up.
Well.
I am pretty great.
You ruined it!
That was supposed to fluster you.
Now I just look a bit weird.
What’s wrong with looking weird?
If it helps, I may have gotten a bit flustered.
Yes!
Merlin, this is ridiculous.
I wish I could speak to you in person.
See the flustered-y-ness.
Remus stilled at that, biting down on his tongue. For some reason, it never actually clicked in his mind that they were going to have to meet. Honestly, he’d originally just liked having someone to talk to. Someone he could flirt and be cheeky with. The problem now, however, was that meeting was something he actually found himself wanting. Really wanting.
His stomach stirred uncomfortably. Abnormally.
I suppose we’ve just got to wait one of us figures out the other’s identity.
Speaking of which, any progress on your end?
Yes. Definitely.
We’ve got Muggle Studies today. I’m pulling out my major detective skills.
Well, then.
See you there.
*
Remus found himself actually excited to get to potions to see how it was all going to play out. It’d taken them nearly two hours to line every single cauldron and spell them so the smell wasn’t—well… smell-able. Apparently, nothing was actually going to explode until the billywig stings were added. Remus wondered whose the first would be.
But, even though it had been late when he got back to the dormitory, Remus still stayed up just that bit longer. He wasn’t much of a charms expert, but there was something important he needed to do.
”Pandora.”
She turned where she was sat in her usual spot in potions, the chair next to her (usually Remus’) empty. There was a distinct frown on her face when Remus appeared, though she looked more tired than anything. It made him feel sick.
He dug around in the pocket of his robes and pulled out a small box - blue, because he knew that was the colour she had worn most recently - then placed it onto the desk. She stared at it for a moment, before looking back at Remus curiously. He realised she was waiting for him to speak.
”I…” He paused, clearing his throat, “Apparently I’m a bit thick when it comes to emotions. I think the same applies for apologies. My mum used to say that you had to mean it when you said sorry, but that makes absolutely zero sense. How do you mean a word? So I made you this because I think it’s more meaningful than a word. I want you to know that I feel a bit shit—actually, no, I feel a lot shit about what I said. And about being thick and making you feel shit. Mostly I just don’t like not being your friend.”
She seemed to mull over his words, eyes flicking down to the little blue box. She reached forwards and picked it up, still silent, then lifted the lid and peered inside. It was an antique saucer with dainty painted flowers of all different colours along the rim, she pulled it out and set it on the desk.
”What is it?” She asked, finally.
”Oh!” Remus said, reaching into his other pocket and pulling out a matching mug along with a little chocolate, “I got the idea from the whole Padfoot thing.”
He placed the chocolate into the mug and, thankfully, it vanished and appeared onto the saucer. Pandora’s eyes went wide.
”It works with anything. Not just chocolate.” Remus pointed out, quickly, “And it works both ways from anywhere in the castle. I know it’s a bit… unconventional, but I wanted to be able to send you treats and stuff. For when you’re feeling shit and I’m too thick to—“
Remus was cut off as he realised Pandora had wrapped her arms around him and he could’ve sworn he heard a sniffle into his robes. He brought an awkward hand to her back. Moments later, she pulled back, chewing on her bottom lip. Pandora picked up the saucer and placed it back into the box, sliding it carefully into her bag and taking her seat again.
“Well?” She asked. Remus quickly realised she wanted him to sit next to her. He did.
As the lesson began, they didn’t talk about the Lestrange thing but Remus could tell it was hanging in the back of her mind. Remus wondered when the appropriate time to bring it up would be. It’d definitely have to be before Halloween. Maybe he could ask Evan about it? Or maybe that was oversteppi—
Bang!
Pandora’s eyes went wide and, along with the rest of the class, darted to the desk in the far corner. An infuriated Severus Snape was stood open-mouthed with ash just like the one he’d watched Sirius brush off the hearth last night all over his face. His greasy hair was now frizzed with static as he looked up from his cauldron.
”By Merlin, dear boy.” Professor Slughorn choked out from the front of the classroom, “What have I told you about starting practical work before I’ve finished speaking, Mr Snape?”
”Sir—I-“ Snape began, looking down at the cauldron as though it’d just insulted him.
”Now, now. No time for fuss. I believe it best you head to the bathrooms to get yourself cleaned up.” Slughorn continued. Remus’ eyes caught the three boys, faces red from struggling to hold in their laughter, on the other side of the room. Just as he did, Sirius looked at him and winked. Now Remus was equally red-faced.
***
Tuesday 17th September, 1975
Remus felt fear more than he felt guilt. He knew that. Years and years of waiting for - of anticipating - what the wolf would do when he wasn’t in control. The night of the full moon felt a bit like falling asleep (if you discount the pain). Remus doubted many people went to sleep fearing they wouldn’t wake up. Or that they killed their mother.
But Remus had always feared practical things. Corporeal. Rational. Things you could reach out and touch. Fire burns. Dogs bite. Knives cut. Perhaps that was why this fear scared him the most.
Because he didn’t understand why.
Grass was green because of it’s chlorophyll. Rain happened when clouds carry too much water. The sky was blue because of the atmosphere. These were things that made sense.
Remus Lupin was scared because he liked someone. Nonsense.
He knew he didn’t feel things in a normal way. And he knew most of that reason was because of just how much control the wolf held over him. But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel at all. And this… this was a different kind of feel. One that scraped and clawed at his chest from the inside out, tearing through his skin, through his shirt and reaching out, begging to be seen. Begging to show Remus he’s human.
He found himself watching in every class they had together. Because some part of him liked that feeling. The unnatural ache when he looked at the mop of shiny, black hair and just wondered if. If Sirius was anxiously anticipating class to end so he could pull out a book that matched Remus’. If Sirius was blushing and laughing and cringing at all of the lovely little things Remus would never say but had somehow found it in him to write.
It was amazing. It was horrible.
It wasn’t so much the fear that Padfoot’d ever be scared of the wolf that made Remus nervous, it was the fact that he found himself so easily wanting to tell him. Wanting to tell him everything. All of the parts of him anyone had ever called strange and all of the reasons why he could never find it in himself to care. Everything.
It weighed on him torturously throughout the entire day. Through him drilling holes into the back of Sirius Black’s head in Defence Against The Dark Arts. Through picking anxiously at a shrivelfig in Herbology. And by their free period, Pandora had obviously recognised it.
”Out with it.” She said. The pair of them were sat on the floor of the Hogsmeade passageway across from each other about halfway down it, chewing on some liquorice wands they’d just retrieved from Honeydukes.
Remus looked up at her, eyes wide with his gob around one of them, “Out with what?”
”You’ve been acting strange. Is it because of our argument?” She asked, setting the book down on her knee.
”What?” Remus blinked, then, “No! No. I’m just a—strange person. You know this.”
“Is it that Pad-boy?”
“Padfoot?”
”Ah. So it is.”
“No! I mean—well, yeah. But I’m not… I don’t want to think about it.” Remus said, before ripping off another bite from his liquorice with his teeth.
”If you don’t think about it, it’ll just get worse.” Pandora pointed out with a shrug.
Remus didn’t respond.
”Remuuus?”
He blatantly ignored her, drawing his knees to his chest like a petulant child and burying his face in his book.
”Come on. We can’t both ignore our problems. You’re supposed to be the emotionally-idiotic-but-weirdly-stable one of us.”
“What?”
She grinned, “There we go.”
Remus huffed, dropping both his book and his liquorice then groaning as it rolled off his lap into the dirt.
“I’m close to figuring out who he is.” Remus murmured, eventually.
“Padfoot?” Pandora asked, brows furrowing, “Shouldn’t you be happy about that?”
He nodded, feeling queasy, “I should. But I don’t. And I don’t know what to feel about it.”
”I don’t know what you mean by that one.” Pandora said, softly.
Remus was silent again for a little while, letting the weight of it pull him down a bit longer.
Until,
“I think I feel scared.”
Pandora looked at him. Just looked at him with that searching expression that made him feel like he was stripped bare and waving from a flagpole. Padfoot would’ve made some innuendo that sent Remus’ insides squirming at that.
For a moment, Remus thought Pandora wasn’t going to get it. That she’d ask him to elaborate again. But he should’ve known better.
”Of course you do.”
”Of course I do?”
She nodded, “You’ve never been in love before.” And, before Remus could protest that they weren’t talking about love, she added, “You’ve never had the potential for it, then. But I think it’s normal to be scared.” She paused, looking down then looking back up a him, “Do you remember when you told me why you thought people cared so much about normality?”
Remus nodded, “I told you it was because they’re afraid. They’re comfortable with things they know so they don’t know whether to trust things they don’t.”
“But you don’t feel that. You never have. You’ve just accepted that what is is. You don’t see difference, you don’t trust based on looks, you trust based on who that person wants to be. You know - you’ve learned - what makes a person good. What makes it safe to trust them. But you don’t know anything about building a relationship on more than that. How to let someone in wholly and let them build their home because you’ve never had to build a home in anyone other than yourself.”
Remus thought, a heavy furrow drawing together his brows as he stared at the table.
He looked up at her, “But it makes no sense. Why do I feel so strongly for something that I’ve never needed before. Why do I feel scared of it?”
”How do you fly on nothing but a broom? How does the trajectory of where the sun shines on the moon decide when you turn into a mindless wolf? It’s magic. And that’s what love is. It’s magic because there’s no logical explanation. The desire to hold and to keep safe just because of the simple fact that you can. You’ve never needed it because you’ve survived without it all this time. There’s a difference between surviving and living, Remus. And, as strange as it sounds, sometimes just living is scary.”
He felt like a book cracked at the spine. Someone was ripping out his pages, showing them to everyone and screaming “Look! Look how loony he really is!”. But, like with everything else, he found himself uncaring. Wanting to stand up and wail until his lungs were dry and sore, “If feeling this way makes me loony, so fucking be it.”. Because, despite the fear, despite the uncertainty, feeling human wasn’t actually half bad.