Remus's Dilemma
Saturday, October 18th, 1975
Remus's quill scratches against the parchment, jotting down his to-do list for the weekend. The full moon is two days away, but if he sticks to his schedule, he’ll be able to finish his assignments by Sunday evening.
Potions Essay
Charms Practise
Transfiguration Exam Prep
He sighs, long and heavy, running his eyes over the list. Fifth year has barely started, but he can’t afford to slack off. This year matters. The O.W.L.s loom ahead in the spring, and every subject counts. He has to stay on top of everything.
At 7:30 on a Saturday morning, the common room is mostly empty. That won’t last—soon enough, the place will be buzzing with students—but for now, Remus relishes the rare silence. Midterms are near, and the library, once a peaceful haven, is now overrun with gaggles of giggling second-years who haven’t yet felt the bite of exams. The common room might not be much quieter, but the warmth of the fireplace eases the tension in his body, making it bearable.
Remus’s muscles have always been stiff—comes with the territory of being torn apart once a month—but the days leading up to the full moon are the hardest. The autumn chill only worsens the ache, sending sharp flares of pain across his back, his legs, his arms.
Alright… he thinks. If I tackle potions first, the rest should be easy.
He reaches into his bag, fingers brushing over a few scattered parchment sheets before finding his Potions textbook. The expandable charm he placed on the bag had seemed brilliant at the time, but now it’s a constant source of frustration. Every time he needs something, it’s like fishing in a bottomless pit. A jolt of pain shoots up his spine. His muscles seize, and for a moment, he can't breathe. He clamps his teeth together, fighting to keep control as the agony ebbs and flows. After a few seconds, the wave recedes. He pushes through it, finally retrieving the book.
Remus adjusts his posture, trying to find a position that’s even remotely comfortable. His left hand massages the tense muscles in his back as he begins working through the essay. For the next thirty minutes, he maintains a steady rhythm, until the door swings open and the rowdy voices of the Quidditch team shatter the peace. Remus glances up. They’re drenched, hair plastered to their foreheads, robes dripping with rainwater. His watch reads 08:05. A wet practice, no doubt. Just Remus’s luck. He can’t catch a break.
Breathe in, breathe out.
"Moony!" Sirius’s voice rings out, high and playful. Remus winces at the squelch of Sirius’s soaked robes hitting the leather of the couch before the boy flops down next to him.
Remus has always been aware of Sirius, but lately, something has shifted. The summer between fourth and fifth year changed things. He’s suddenly hyper-aware of everything about Sirius—the way his hair falls into his eyes, the way he grins like he knows a secret, the way he smells after a Quidditch practice. It's confusing, and Remus isn’t sure he likes it. However in this moment, with Sirius sitting a little too close and smelling of sweat and mud, he couldn’t help but grow annoyed.
"What do you want, Sirius?" he grumbles, trying to ignore the tightening in his chest, the headache that pulses at his temple.
Sirius flashes a grin, unfazed. "Well, my darling Moony," he says with mock seriousness, "I just wanted to check on how your Astronomy Chart is going."
Shit.
The Astronomy Chart—Remus had completely forgotten about it. He quickly adds it to the list.
Potions Essay
Charms Practise
Transfiguration Exam Prep
Astronomy Chart
Annoyance bubbles up. "If you've come to copy my charts, you’re out of luck," he snaps, unapologetic. "I haven't even started. Why don’t you go ask James?"
Sirius’s grin falters, but he presses on. "No need. It's all done. I was actually offering to help you with yours. You’ve been swamped, and I thought I’d return the favour."
Well I’m a right dick.
"Oh," Remus mutters, the headache now blooming in full force.
"Yeah," Sirius says, standing. "Well, I’ll leave you to it. Got to shower." He walks away, disappearing up the stairwell.
Remus watches him go, feeling strangely empty. A rush of embarrassment heats his cheeks, and he’s left unsure what to do next. He should get back to work—but his thoughts are too scattered, too jumbled.
An hour passes. Remus is no closer to finishing his assignments. If anything, the stress is mounting. The Potions essay feels longer than it should, his headache refuses to let up, and the cold in his hands is making it difficult to grip the quill. He massages his fingers, trying to stave off the cramping, but when he reaches for the book again, the discomfort spikes. His head is spinning. His mind racing from one thing to the next. Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Astronomy... His chest feels tight. So engrossed in his work, he fails to notice the small body that appeared in front of him until its presence was made aware by a clearing of the throat.
He doesn’t hear Henry until the first-year’s voice cuts through the haze. Remus’s eyes snap to him, startled.
“Hiya, Henry,” Remus says, forcing a smile that feels more like a grimace.
“It’s Saturday,” the younger boy says, his eyes wide, nervous.
"Shit," Remus mutters, realising too late. tutoring
"Right. Of course. You need help," Remus says, a lump forming in his throat. McGonagall had asked him to tutor the first-years at the start of term. He’d agreed, but the workload is piling up, and now everything feels overwhelming.
“Look Henry…” he started, trying to add sincerity into his voice, “today’s not really the best-”
Henry looks at him, eyes filling with moisture. “You promised, Remus. My exam’s Monday, and I can’t turn a rat into a cup.”
Remus sighs inwardly, rubbing his temple, the headache like a vice. He adds tutoring to his list.
Potions Essay
Charms Practice
Transfiguration exam preparation
Astronomy Charts
Tutoring
"Alright, just sit down, and we’ll get started," he says, trying to keep his voice steady.
Henry beams and plops down next to him, immediately rattling off his struggles with Transfiguration. Remus can’t concentrate. His nerves feel like live wires, and the proximity of the younger boy makes him uncomfortable. The closer Henry gets, the more Remus’s senses heighten, the more his anxiety builds. He feels like he can taste the magic in the air, hear every heartbeat, every breath.
Potions Essay
Charms Practice
Transfiguration exam preparation
Astronomy Charts
Tutoring
Breathe in, breathe out.
Potions Essay
Charms Practice
Transfiguration exam preparation
Astronomy Charts
Tutoring
Breathe in, b-breathe out.
Potions Essay
Charms Practice
Transfiguration exam preparation
Astronomy Charts
Tutoring
B-breathe in, b-breathe out.
Potions Essay
Charms Practice
Transfiguration exam preparation
Astronomy Charts
Tutoring
B-breathe in, b-breathe
Potions Essay
Charms Practice
Transfiguration exam preparation
Astronomy Charts
Tutoring
B-b-breathe, b-b-brea-
He couldn’t breathe.
H-he couldn’t b-breahte
He couldn’t
He-
"Henry!" a voice slices through the panic. Sirius.
Sirius strolls into the room with his usual easy confidence, but this time, his gaze immediately sharpens when he sees Remus. "To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing my dear professor Lupin aiding you youngin?" Sirius says, putting an arm around Henry’s shoulders, trying to lighten the mood.
Remus’s voice is barely a whisper. "Sirius..."
Sirius winks and looks back to Henry. “Well, lucky you. I think Peter’s better with rats than Remus here."
Before Remus can react, Sirius grabs Peter from a nearby game of wizarding chess and ushers him over. Peter looks bewildered but agrees, and with a promise to help Henry, they leave the room.
Sirius sits next to Remus, his smile gone. The concern in his eyes makes Remus feel exposed.
“You look troubled,” Sirius says softly.
Remus tries to speak, but words fail him. His breath hitches in his chest. The panic threatens to return.
Sirius’s voice is steady, reassuring. “I need you to steady your breathing. Can you do that for me?”
Remus is starting to feel a bit dizzy. He can’t stop thinking about everything that is going on. The headache, his back, the assignments-
“Hey, enough of that.” Sirius grabs Remus’s hand and rests it against his chest. “Follow my breathing. Come on Moony, breathe.”
Remus nods. And somehow, in that moment, he can. Sirius guides him, his steady breaths anchoring Remus to the present. The room melts away, and all that matters is Sirius’s warmth, his hand placed gently on Remus’s chest.
“Cheers,” is all Remus can think to say, now that his body no longer feels like it’s floating away.
“No worries mate,” Sirius responds, sitting up straighter. “Happens to James all the time before matches, he’s a bit of a nervous player believe it or not.”
“Right.” Remus swallows, feeling quite fragile.
“Want to tell me what that was all about?” Sirius’s gaze softened as he watched him, but Remus couldn’t meet his eyes. His hands felt clammy, and he fought the urge to rub his face, to hide behind some mask of composure. But that seemed impossible now. The dam had already cracked. “I just—” Remus started, his voice coming out rough, breaking on the last syllable. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to rein in the chaos inside his head. But the effort only made his thoughts spiral faster.
“I’m… I’m just so tired, Sirius. All the time. I’m not sleeping. Not properly. I—I keep thinking I’m fine, but then everything builds up until I can’t breathe, can’t think straight. I keep pushing and pushing, but nothing gets any easier, and it’s like—like I’m always on the edge of breaking.” His voice shook, the words tumbling out in a torrent, but they felt like truth. His truth. The one he hadn’t been able to admit to anyone, even himself.
Sirius’s expression darkened, his usual playfulness replaced with something more serious. He sat closer to Remus, close enough that Remus could feel the warmth radiating from him. His hand found Remus’s shoulder again, steadying him, grounding him. “Moony…” Sirius’s voice was low, soft. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
The words hit Remus harder than he expected. He hadn’t realised how much he needed to hear them, needed to feel like he wasn’t the only one fighting this battle. He had always been so careful, so self-reliant—afraid of burdening others, especially Sirius. But now, with Sirius’s hand on his shoulder, the reality settled in: maybe it was okay to lean on someone else, just this once.
“I’m sorry,” Remus mumbled, his voice small. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just—don’t know how to stop.”
Sirius squeezed his shoulder, his thumb brushing over the fabric of Remus’s robes in a slow, reassuring motion. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Moony. You’re just... you’re human. And you’re under a hell of a lot of pressure. But that doesn’t mean you have to carry it all by yourself. Not when we’re all right here.”
Remus blinked, the lump in his throat growing tighter. He looked at Sirius, really looked at him, and for the first time, he saw the concern that was there—genuine, unshakable. The weight of it made Remus’s chest ache. “I don’t want to be a burden,” he whispered, the confession slipping out before he could stop it. He had never wanted to admit it, but the fear of being a burden had been gnawing at him for months.
Sirius didn’t flinch. Instead, his expression softened even further, and his voice was firm, but gentle. “You could never be a burden to me, Remus.” His eyes were unwavering, the sincerity in them undeniable. “You’re my friend. And that’s what friends are for. To help each other. You don’t have to carry all this alone.”
He swallowed again, his throat still tight, but this time with something different—something lighter. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” Sirius replied, his hand still on Remus’s shoulder, a steady presence in the quiet room. “Just breathe, Moony. One step at a time. Let’s start there.”
Remus nodded slowly, breathing in deeply as Sirius guided him through the rhythm of it. It wasn’t a cure. It didn’t fix everything all at once. But it was something. And it felt... better. For the first time in a long time, Remus didn’t feel like he was fighting the world alone. He wasn’t perfect, and he didn’t have to be. He could just be Remus.
And that was enough.
Eventually, Remus’s breathing steadied. He felt a little less like he was floating away, a little more grounded. A little more... whole. He exhaled, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he opened his eyes. Sirius was still there, watching him with a mixture of concern and something else—something warmer. Remus couldn’t quite place it, but it made his stomach flutter.
“Better?” Sirius asked quietly, his thumb still gently stroking Remus’s shoulder.
Remus nodded. “Yeah. A bit.” He shifted uncomfortably, the awkwardness of the situation slowly returning. He hadn’t realized how close they were sitting, how intimate the moment had become. But even with that awkwardness creeping in, he didn’t want to pull away. He didn’t want to retreat into himself again. Not right now.
Sirius, noticing the shift, let out a quiet chuckle. “Good. Now,” he said, standing up and extending his hand with a grin, “I think we both need a bit of a distraction. Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”
Remus hesitated for a moment, then took Sirius’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. It felt natural. Right. The tension that had been knotting his insides began to ease as Sirius grinned at him, that familiar sparkle back in his eyes.
“Alright,” Remus said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Lead the way, Black.”