How to be Human

His fourth year at The Hogwarts Academy, Remus arrived before any of his roommates in hopes of taking a nap. He was exhausted and knew all the first week tasks he’d be dealing with once he arrived, and he really needed some rest. 

The night before was spent reading in his mother’s garden, because the summer after Remus turned fifteen, he fell in love with reading. Reading was easy. Falling into a story, other people’s emotions…it felt almost like feeling his own. However, reading could be exhausting when it was done all night long, leaving him to pack early that morning, and throw himself on a train so he wouldn’t pass out before it was time to leave.

He would’ve slept on the train, but there was so much to look at. Granted, he’d seen the

same scenery all before, but this year, it felt different. It looked prettier. The mountains, the towns, the fields of nothing. 

That summer, for the first time, he missed Hogwarts. 

He’d never missed anything in his life.

Including his mother, including his father. And he was sure that must’ve made him an awful person, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. 

But he missed how it felt at night. How he knew that there were hundreds of people all around him, but the castle felt like it was all his. How there was a huge lake right outside, reflecting his precious moon, he could see it twice, and the stars looked diamond-like. How there was a forest surrounding him on all sides, full of trees and animals and life. How there was no light anywhere at night, so the moon and the stars were as bright as he’d ever seen and it felt like they were shining just for him. 

When James Potter arrived at Dorm 173 to see Remus’ pale, freckled face smashed uncomfortably yet comfortably into the mattress of his bed, he didn’t think much of it. Remus was always sleeping and he had grown used to it. He smiled, shook his head, and began to unpack. 

Now, usually, James waited until day four or five to unpack because that was when he grew sick of rummaging through his suitcase, but no one else was there (except a sleeping Remus), and he couldn’t just sit and wait. So, he began unpacking, strategically trying to keep quiet so he wouldn't wake his friend. 

Remus always looked so tired. His under eyes were permanently purple-toned, his lids always low, casting a lashed shadow on the top of his pointed cheeks. He always slouched his shoulders, but James could never tell if it was because he was tired, or just trying to shrink himself down, for he was pretty tall for their age. And the way he moved, slow, liquid like, like if the wind blew too hard, he’d topple over and fly away. 

As James unpacked, he thought of the year ahead, how excited he was, about football (soccer), about the classes he’d chosen, about his friends. Remus stirred and James jumped, thinking he’d been talking aloud, because he had a bad habit of it (he was always talking), but the boy never woke up. James continued to think about his friends. 

Specifically one he hadn’t heard from all summer. A black haired, blue eyed, nail painted friend who promised to call, who didn’t even need to promise because he always called. James was worried, especially because of what he was greeted with on the first day of the year before. 

Sirius Black’s family was a force to be reckoned with and it gave James Potter the worst anxiety he’d ever felt in his entire life. 

Of course, Sirius Black was unapologetic in everything he did, so when he bursted through the door with his many, many suitcases, threw them onto the floor as the door slammed against the wall, waking Remus, who jumped from his position, rolled over and right off the bed, all he had to say about it was, “Alright, Lupin?” 

Remus, who sat awkwardly on the floor, eyebrows slightly pulled together, looked up at Sirius, who obviously just arrived, and James, who obviously had been there a while, replied, “I was.” 

And this shocked all three of them. 

James, who hadn’t moved the entire encounter, lowered himself on his bed and pushed up his glasses for the sake of something to do. Remus snapped his mouth shut, squinted, and thought about the fact that he hadn’t meant to say that at all. And Sirius tilted his head slightly, hair falling against his shoulder, and smiled. 

“My apologies.” Sirius nodded to the boy on the floor, and pushed his way through the mountain of luggage he created and threw himself onto James. And that was that. For a moment, it’d been Remus and James and Sirius. Then, it was James and Sirius, and Remus. 

Remus didn’t mind; he was too preoccupied obsessing over the fact that he’d spoken without thinking about it for a few minutes first. He hadn’t thought at all. The words just fell out. And it felt easy and terrifying all at once. 

Things fell into place like they always did. 

Peter arrived and the three of them caught up, each of them on their own beds. At some point Sirius moved to James’, and Remus thought maybe that was normal, but couldn’t be sure. He knew the two of them were closer, but he hadn’t paid much attention to it before. He wasn’t exactly sure why decided to pay attention then, but he did. 

How James listened with his entire body to whoever was speaking. How Sirius spoke with his hands, and how his hands always landed on James, or Peter if he was close, hitting or tapping or shaking them. Sirius was touchy, Remus noted. James was attentive. Peter liked to ask questions, about whatever the topic, he’d inquire more, whether that was because he was being polite, or he really was interested. Peter was curious. 

“How was your summer, Remus?” This was James, and James always asked how his summer was. He’d always say fine, but the more Remus sat there, the more he felt a nagging to tell them. 

“I learned to read,” Remus said stupidly before he could stop the words falling from his lips. Peter let out a huh, James cocked his head to the side, and Sirius snorted. Huffing, Remus scolded himself silently. “I meant I learned to enjoy reading, I guess,” he trailed off in a mumble, suddenly embarrassed, suddenly feeling stupid that he opened his mouth at all because why would they care about his reading.

Except, Peter then asked, “What did you read?” And then Remus suddenly remembered that Peter also liked to read. 

“I read The Hobbit, Hamlet, and To Kill a Mockingbird,” Remus replied, listing the three books off on his fingers, which were shaking slightly under the three pairs of eyes on him. 

“I love The Hobbit!” Peter exclaimed and jumped into telling Remus how many times he read it, which Remus was grateful for because he no longer had to speak but he was officially a part of the conversation. 

Half an hour later, Remus had a sticky note with a list of books from Peter that he would look into the next time he went to the library, and Sirius and James and fell into a whispering session on Jame’s bed, having checked out of the book conversation long before. Remus’ chest felt tight knowing that he bored them and wished he never would have opened his mouth to begin with. 

Many more instances like that took place over the next couple weeks. 

Remus found himself halfway in a conversation with his roommates, then somehow ended up speaking more than he’d ever intended, and it always ended with him full of regret he spoke at all. He’d replay everything that had escaped his lips and then try and imagine what the others had been thinking, or feeling, or what they said in return. 

He’d only think about this at night. 

Under the moon, where it was safe to feel. 

__________

One day, after classes, Remus had collapsed in a heap of exhaustion on his bed around four and woke up at ten to the dead silence of his dorm. He did realize one of the beds was empty, but hadn’t thought much about whose it was or why. Remus just grabbed his homework and a book and left barefoot towards the common room. 

Everything was still, quiet, dead. Maybe that’s why Remus felt so loud, awake, and alive.

When he reached the bottom two steps, he jumped down, sliding and stumbling on his socks, until he reached the shag carpet. He tossed his things carelessly onto a couch, and went to light the fireplace. Once it roared with warmth and an orange glow, he spun back around, and yelped.

Sirius Black was sitting, knees to his chest, on the window sill right behind the couch he was about to sit on. Remus froze, one hand half in the air, one leg bent mid step. He couldn’t move and couldn’t speak. Sirius was far less surprised, since he’d seen the other boy as soon as he entered the room. He’d been watching. 

Sirius had never seen Remus so…there. Before third year, Sirius often forgot he was there at all. Of course, since the year before he’d been paying attention. (Lightly) obsessed. He had been different so far, Sirius noticed because of course he did. He was more open than ever, he was talking to them more though he was painfully awkward when he did but Sirius almost found it endearing. He still was quiet, he still was gone most of the time, and he still was Remus.

But then, there, in the dark and empty common room, Remus Lupin was more alive than Sirius Black had ever seen him. 

“What are you doing up?” Sirius swung his feet over the back of the couch and slid down to sit against the arm. He looked up at Remus, who was frozen and nervous and startled. “Dumb question, you’re always up.” 

And this startled Remus more because how did he know that? But, they had lived together for over three years, of course he’d notice. Remus just forgot other people could think about him, could notice him, could see him. Then, he did something he never did. He asked a question. 

“Why are you up?” Remus wanted to sit down, but was afraid to. Sirius shrugged.

“Couldn’t sleep. Normally, I’d wake James but he had a tough day, so,” Sirius trailed off with a shrug of his shoulders. Remus could only nod, not sure what to say next. 

After a few uncomfortable seconds, Sirius patted the spot next to him, which Remus didn’t take, but he did lower himself down onto the opposite end of the couch. Both of them became hyper-aware of the fact they’d never been alone together. Not since that one night Sirius walked in to find Remus hanging upside down like a bat, and that encounter only lasted a few minutes. 

“The Picture of Dorian Gray.” 

“What?” Remus replied, embarrassingly fast.

“The book.” Sirius pointed next to Remus’ leg. “Is it good?” Remus glanced down at the classic on the couch and found himself nodding downwards. It was one of the books Peter had recommended and he was only on chapter three. He had to reread some parts multiple times and had taken to underlining things to fully process them. 

Remus stopped nodding. “I think so. I’m not that far into it.” 

“Well tell me how it is once you know.” 

“So you can read it?” Remus cocked his head to the side, finally looking at his roommate. 

“God, no,” Sirius laughed. “But I’d like to know.” 

Remus wasn’t following. “Why?” 

“So I can hear your thoughts.” 

“But why?” Remus really wasn’t following.

“Because you never talk.” And it did slip from Sirius’ lips, but it was true, and it was something he’d been thinking about a lot. Remus froze again. No one ever mentioned it. He wasn’t sure anyone noticed. “Sorry, I just…you don’t.” 

Remus nodded slowly, “I know.” Because he did. “I just-” He didn’t know. 

“Do you just not know what to say?” This question surprised Remus. Actually, the entire conversation surprised Remus. 

“Partly?” He lifted the answer like a question because he’d never been sure about anything ever. “I think I don’t know how to say it.” 

“Say what?” Sirius pressed, focusing on how concentrated Remus looked, like he had to really think about what his next words were. Sirius didn’t think before he spoke, he just spoke. Perhaps it was because he had to have such a guarded filter when at home, so when he was at school and everything came rushing out in the relief to just be out, he didn’t have time to think about it. 

“Anything. Everything,” Remus finally settled on an answer. He wasn’t sure what to say about everything, and wasn’t sure how to say anything. 

“If you could say anything right now, what would it be? No repercussions, no judgment, just whatever you’re thinking right now.” If Remus asked Sirius this, he’s not sure what he’d say. He had so many thoughts all the time, so many that something they came out so jumbled no one but James could understand what he was saying. 

But Remus didn’t allow himself to have too many thoughts, and any thoughts he had, he released into the sky so they wouldn’t eat him alive. 

“I think…” Then Remus sat with himself for a moment, unaware of how intently the other boy was staring at him, taking the opportunity to do it openly and so close. “I think that I feel sad.” 

All the weight that fluttered off Remus’ chest with those words fell heavily onto Sirius’. Honestly, it hurt him because it seemed so true and so obvious. To Sirius, Remus seemed fragile in all that he was, so to think of this fragile being sitting before him, telling him that he was sad, well…it made him sad. 

He thought of his brother, Regulus. 

Reggie had been sad. And then he was dead. 

Sirius did not want Remus to die. 

But he was also unaware of the fact that Remus Lupin had never been alive to begin with. 

But he was learning. 

__________

His fourth year at Hogwarts was when Remus finally decided to take Astronomy, which then led to the discovery of the Astronomy Tower. He had put it off, even though he’d known he’d enjoy it because he didn’t want to think about the names of stars or constellations every time he looked up at the sky. 

The sky was his. And he was its. He didn’t want it to be anymore complicated than that. 

But he gave in, which in turn, gave him access to the best spot in the castle. 

It was a legitimate tower, the tallest in the school, up multiple stories of spiral stairs and into a dome with a glass ceiling. A balcony wrapped around the entire thing, a large telescope stationed at the North, South, East, and West points. 

Remus could see everything from up there, everything worth seeing. And he was as close to the sky as he’d ever been. 

Those classes took place once a week, at eleven at night to half past midnight. If he would’ve known that sooner, perhaps he would’ve taken the class before. But he was grateful he hadn’t, because he was alive more than he’d ever been, and he needed to experience that tower as much as he could. 

 One afternoon, Remus had been sitting with his roommates near the lake. It was a nice cool day, not windy, but cold, yet still sunny enough to keep them warm. Remus had stood to leave the dorm a few hours before and James asked where he was headed, and once he knew, they all tagged along. 

Remus didn’t mind this, but he didn’t not mind either. 

           Somehow, someone else kicked a ball from somewhere and James ended up kicking it back before abandoning them to go play soccer. A few minutes later, Peter noticed a girl he was friends with walking alone on the other side of the lake, bid them goodbye, and ran after her. Remus thought her name was Mary but he wasn’t sure why he thought that. Perhaps he’d been listening more. 

It was just Remus and Sirius. 

“It was good,” Remus found himself saying quietly. Sirius turned his head fully towards him. 

 “Yeah?” Because Sirius knew exactly what he was referring to. “What did you like about it?” And then he waited while Remus took a moment to gather his thoughts, or perhaps his voice. 

 “I liked the writing,” Remus decided. “It felt so life-like. Like I could see it.” Then he looked at the boy, like he needed confirmation for his own opinion, and Sirius gave it to him in a nod. “All the characters wanted to be important,” Remus noted thoughtfully, more to himself than anything. But that was conversation, he was learning, just expressing one’s thoughts. So he thought he’d practice. 

“Do you feel important, Remus?”

Remus never answered. 

__________

One midnight, in November, Remus had learned about the stars. 

              He had a large paper spread out before him, a map of the sky visible to him at that moment. Dull eyes danced across the page, soaking in the names of the things that knew all his secrets. 

One of the stars’ names was Sirius. 

 Later that night, when his class was over and Remus was left to his own devices atop the Astronomy Tower, he couldn’t bring himself to confess anything to the sky. Instead, he found himself thinking about Sirius. 

Sirius the boy, not the star. 

Or perhaps maybe they were the same.

Remus thought Sirius was the perfect balance of human and whatever Remus was. He could be so alive without taking up a room, like James. He could be funny and loud without sometimes being too much so, like Peter. He could be quiet and hide himself away if he wanted to, but not so much you’d forget he was there all together, like Remus. 

Sirius Black knew how to be human, perfectly so. 

And Remus Lupin knew nothing. 

In the general sense of things, Remus hadn’t given much thought to Sirius until fourth year. The same was true for James and Peter. How the trio fell so nicely together. They each brought their own substance to the group, each had a specific role in their dynamic, and when one was absent, the entire thing was thrown off balance. 

Remus was positive nothing was thrown off balance when he wasn’t there. 

Except, there was a possibility he was wrong. 

That next night, when Remus was sitting in the window of his dorm room while everyone else was gone for a late night game of football, Sirius slipped through the door without a word and settled himself face first on his bed. He hadn’t spoken a word, hadn’t made a noise, hadn’t looked at Remus. 

He didn’t know what to do besides stare at the star boy. 

Sirius had looked something close to sad but not quite. Remus had never been good at reading emotions, especially his own. Lately, Remus had taken the habit of naming the emotions he was feeling, but continuing to do nothing further, but at least he knew. Lately, Remus had also been trying to identify other people’s emotions, mostly for the fact of seeing how they might look on him. 

“Are you alright?” Remus asked timidly. 

Sirius’ head twitched, like he was about to rise, but didn’t. Instead, into the pillows, he said, “I’ve never been more tired in my entire life.” 

Remus took note recently that Sirius liked to be dramatic. 

“Did you play football?” Then, Sirius lifted his head and looked his roommate in the eyes. 

“I think I’d rather die than play football.” 

And Remus found that he felt the same. 

What the moon boy had meant to say was why are you tired, then? But instead what came out was something else. Something he wasn’t sure why he’d been thinking about. 

“You're named after a star.” This shocked Sirius. 

The entire Black family had astrology originated names. Back home, everyone knew this. And of course, people at Hogwarts had known that, it wasn’t a secret, it was his name. But most people didn’t know about stars. Most people didn’t care. And no one ever commented. 

“I am.” Thick, curved eyebrows furrowed slightly as Sirius stared at his friend (he used that term a lot tighter than James did, so that was the moment he finally considered Remus a real friend). 

“I learned that yesterday,” Remus said, looking back out the window. “In Astronomy.” He had to clarify, just in case Sirius thought he’d searched it up on his own out of curiosity. 

“Did you?” Sirius sat himself up against his headboard and pulled his knees to his chest. He smiled a little as he watched Remus’ reflection in the glass. “What else did you learn?” 

Remus didn’t think much about the question. It was a question, so he would answer it. But later, when he was alone, he’d ponder over why Sirius wanted to hear something so boring.

“It’s the brightest star in the sky.” Again, Remus began to list on his fingers. “It’s called the Dog Star.” Another finger. “It’s twenty-five times as bright as the sun.” 

And Sirius had known this all, but listened like it was his first time hearing it. But it was his first time hearing it from Remus, so that counted for something more, he thought. 

“You like the stars, huh?” Sirius commented. He often found the boy late at night, gazing at the sky. Late at night, especially since Sirius had become an even lighter sleeper, he’d wake to Remus sneaking out of their dorm, and when asked where he was headed, it was always the Astronomy Tower. 

“And the moon,” Remus added quickly, because he couldn’t bear not including his moon. 

Sirius fell quiet for a long time after that. He and Reggie used to love the stars. It was the only part of their lessons they actually put effort into. It gave them an excuse to sneak out of Sirius’ bedroom window and lay on the rooftop and look at the sky. They’d point out each other's stars, as well as the rest of their family members. They’d play a morbid game of guessing which star would explode into nothing first. 

Regulus had always said himself. 

__________

“Remus, you want to come to the dining hall with us?” James asked one day around noon. 

Before Remus could answer, Sirius spoke from the open bathroom. “Yes he would.” 

And James and Peter looked towards their friend, then towards their other friend, waiting and confused and smiling. 

“Apparently, I would,” said Remus. They all chuckled while Remus wasn't sure that what he said was actually funny. 

The four of them walked from their dorm, through the common room, and down a few hallways until they reached the dining hall. James said hello to everyone he’d even slightly consider an acquaintance. Sirius smiled at two girls he sat with in Cinematic Studies. And Peter smiled and nodded at anyone who looked at him. 

No one spoke or smiled at Remus. And Remus’ face never showed what he’d been thinking. Which was this: Do any of these people actually see me?

Remus Lupin felt like a ghost that day, floating behind his roommates, who seemed to be around him more. Or perhaps, they were around him the same amount they always were and Remus was just paying attention. He wasn’t sure. 

He’d always had a bad habit of standing up and leaving without a word. Not to be rude, but because he didn’t want to announce where he was going and have no one notice or care. So he would stand and leave, always unaware of his roommates, his friends, staring after him wondering if they’d offended him in some way. 

Of course, after three and a half years, they grew used to it.

But something shifted that year, they all could feel it. 

So when Remus stood from the picnic table they were all sitting at later that afternoon, he’d planned on going to the library to return a book and get a new one. 

“Where you headed?” This was Sirius, because of course it was. Remus turned, surprised. James was smiling up at him from his seat, and Peter was lost in his homework. Sirius wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t not smiling. 

“The library,” Remus replied simply. 

James grimaced. He hated the library. It was way too quiet. He often got shushed by Mrs. Pince, the librarian, and however guilty he felt about annoying her so, he just couldn’t keep quiet. It wasn’t in his nature. 

Remus went to the library with James once. Well, Remus walked into the library and was immediately met with the big, doe eyes of one James Potter who’d been watching his friend walk up from the window for at least three entire minutes. James invited him to sit, and sit they did, until James started a game of how many paper balls can I throw at Remus until he snaps. 

Of course, Remus never snapped. 

Mrs. Pince did. 

“Oh!” Exclaimed Peter suddenly. “Do you care to pick me up a book? It’s a textbook, the one for Study of Magical Creatures. I forget what it’s called but there’s only the one.” 

“Pete, what happened to your textbook?” James chipped in, keeping his head down as he picked wood from the table. Peter sighed loudly.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Then Sirius laughed loudly. “Marlene threw it in the lake.” 

All head’s snapped to Sirius, then Peter for confirmation. His jaw hit the ground.

“How did you know that?” 

“Well, I was walking behind you guys the other day and I heard her gasp really loud and then throw a book in the lake, but I didn’t know it was your textbook.” Sirius flipped all his hair to the front as he bent his head forward, ruffled his fingers through the roots, then flipped it back over. And it looked perfect. He grinned at Peter. 

“What’d you say to McKinnon?” James asked.

Peter’s cheeks tinted pink. Sirius let out another loud laugh. 

“Go on, Pettigrew.” Sirius reached over to ruffle the boy’s sandy locks. “Tell him what you said.” 

“How do you know what I said?” 

“The girls told me.” Peter huffed annoyed. Remus wasn’t sure who the girls were, but he assumed one of them was Marlene McKinnon. 

“I didn’t say anything,” Peter grumbled, ducking his head down into his work. James nagged and nagged, until Sirius announced, “Fine! I’ll tell him.” The blonde boy jumped from his seat and launched himself towards Sirius. 

Remus watched the entire thing play out quietly from his side of the table, unable to jump in, unable to figure out if he wanted to. Then, Sirius was hauling him up by his arms, and dragging him away as Peter yelled over him, stopping him from revealing whatever Peter had said to earn his textbook thrown into the lake. 

“Sorry gents, Lupin and I have plans in the library.” And he pulled Remus behind him for many more minutes before deeming them safe from their friend. Remus focused on the hand pulling his sleeve, the shoulder brushing his as he walked. 

Remus had spent his entire life not being touched. He didn't know what to feel, if anything at all, about the boy touching him. 

Sometimes, over the last three and a half years, James would slap him on the shoulder in greeting or departure. Peter would reach and pull fuzz from Remus’ hair. Or Sirius would lightly kick him to grab his attention. This, Sirius’ grip firm around his sleeve, not his wrist, tugging him close and with a purpose, it felt different.

Remus did not know why. 

When they reached the doors, Remus stopped. 

“You’re going in?” The boy asked. Sirius turned and nodded with a funny look.

“I thought you needed to go?” Remus looked to the doors, twisted his hands together, then back to his friend. 

“I do.” 

“Well then I do too,” Sirius said. “Let’s go.” 

The next hour was spent, Sirius following Remus like a dog, holding the books he picked up and hadn’t decided if he wanted yet. He’d read the backs of books aloud, then proceed to ask Remus if he thought it sounded good. He asked him questions, because Sirius knew Remus liked questions better than conversation, like he was being quizzed. Except the quiz was about himself, answering questions no one thought to ask him, and it led to the both of them learning things about Remus. 

“Why do you like to read?”

“Because I like to know how other people think.” 

“Why didn’t you like reading before this summer?” 

“I did not like knowing how other people think.” 

“Why?” 

“It made me think I thought wrong.” 

“How could you think wrong?”

Then the conversation had died for many moments because Remus did not answer. And it gave Sirius time to think of his question, and then he knew exactly what Remus meant. 

__________

When Sirius’ birthday was quickly approaching, Remus felt compelled to get him a gift, despite never getting him one any other year, or ever knowing when his birthday was at all. 

He had overheard James and Peter whispering about what to get him and what to do for the big day. Remus then had to take a moment to think about what exact day his birthday fell on, because his mother forgot all his life, and so did he. 

Remus then wondered if he should get Sirius, his friend, a birthday gift. 

James and Peter, also Sirius’ friend, even more so, were getting him a birthday gift. 

So Remus had his question answered and then had to come up with a gift. 

A week before the said “surprise party”, which Remus learned wasn’t so much of a surprise because they threw one every year (news to Remus), Remus decided on what to get Sirius. His thought process was this:

The night before the gift revelation, Remus had been tracing figures in the frosted glass of the window sill of their dorm. It was late enough to be dark, but not late enough for James and Peter to be back from…wherever they were, Remus didn’t know. But Sirius had been catching up on homework when Remus returned from his last class, then promptly passed out twenty minutes in, and woke when the sky was a dark blue. 

Sirius yawned loudly, on purpose, to catch the boy’s attention, but Remus was preoccupied in his thoughts. He’d been thinking of James and Peter hanging out with their friends. What it would be like to be them, to think like them, to feel like them. What he would say if he had no fear, no confusion. What he’d say and do if he wasn’t Remus. 

“I think the sill is going to mold to the shape of your ass as much as you sit there, Lupin.” And Remus almost found himself smiling because Sirius was funny, and it was such a Sirius thing to have the first sentence after he wakes up to be about someone’s rear end. 

Perhaps it was because Remus hadn’t slept since the morning before, or perhaps because he avoided the dining hall that day because it felt too much, but Remus decided he wanted to be funny. As funny as he knew how. So he said, “The sill should be so lucky.” Despite him believing the quite opposite and was legitimately wondering if that could happen or not. 

Sirius laughed and Remus felt something in his chest. 

Then the sill held two boys, opposite each other, toes almost touching, but not quite.

Sirius rested his head against the glass and closed his eyes, still sleepy, always thinking. These specific thoughts were about Remus and how Remus must have been sure that Sirius, because his eyes were closed, was unaware about Remus openly staring at him. But Sirius let him stare because Remus never openly did anything. 

Remus thought Sirius looked relaxed and wondered if he just looked that way, or if he felt that way as well. He wondered what Sirius thought about when he was relaxed, what anyone thought about. Did one have thoughts if one was truly relaxed? Remus decided he’d never been relaxed a day in his life. 

Remus realized that Sirius had freckles, and although they weren’t so prominent like Remus’, they were there, dusting the bridge of his nose, fluttering across the tops of cheeks. Maybe Remus’ freckles were so there because he was so pale. Sirius was not pale, but not tan. Again, he was the perfect in between. 

Remus thought about Sirius’ hair, and his nose. His eyes and his cupid’s bow. He looked at his arms, bare and crossed, like maybe he was cold. Remus was always cold, he realized. He rarely had his arms bare. Or crossed, now that he thought about it. 

Sirius’ nails were black. Short but neat, covered in chipped, dark paint. 

“You paint your nails.” Remus had meant to ask, but he just commented. Sirius’ eyes opened at once, trying to figure out if Remus was going somewhere with the statement, or if he had just noticed. With Remus, it could’ve been either. 

“I do.” Sirius squinted slightly as he watched the boy. Nerves and the need to be defensive rose in his chest because it always did when someone mentioned it. “Is that a problem?” 

Remus tilted his head, confused. Because why would Sirius painting his nails be a problem? He had just now noticed, was all. But of course, Remus’ thoughts were not visible above his head. 

“I think it’s cool,” Remus confessed, because he just learned that he did think it was cool. It gave a little something, he wasn't sure. Although Sirius didn’t need a little something. He had plenty. 

Sirius smiled slightly and nodded. 

“You could paint yours,” he said for something to say. Sirius could not see Remus with his nails painted, but would paint them for him in an instant if he asked. 

“I am not cool,” Remus said because he wasn’t. Sirius smiled wider. 

“I think you’re the coolest of all.” 

So that’s how, a week later, Remus had a small, blue bag covered in red balloons filled with five bottles of black nail polish. Two bottles of red. And one dark blue. Remus had never attended one of Sirius’ birthday parties, and had not planned to attend that one. And honestly the other three boys of Dorm 173 did not expect him to. 

And that was fine. 

After classes on the 3rd of November, Remus pulled Sirius aside. Well, he didn’t pull him anywhere. He timidly approached him in the common room, stood there waiting by the stairs for him to come down, and asked if he could come outside with him. Remus would not be giving him his gift with any witnesses. He didn’t know why, he just knew he didn’t want to.

“What’s up?” Sirius asked, leaning back against a stone wall, masking his worry that perhaps something was wrong with his friend. But then Remus pulled the bag out from behind his back and Sirius squinted, and bit back a smile. 

“Happy Birthday.” Remus blinked and held the bag out. Sirius’ lips twitched. 

“You got me a present?” Remus nodded. “You’ve never gotten me a present.” Remus nodded again because he found that he felt slightly guilty over that fact. Sirius took that bag. “Thank you, Remus.” 

“You haven’t even opened it yet.” Remus frowned. “What if you hate it? Then you thanked me for nothing.” 

“I know I’ll like it,” said Sirius matter-a-factly. 

“How?” 

Then Sirius smiled and pulled the tissue paper from the top. “I just know.”

And he was right. Though Sirius was confused on why there was so much nail polish in the bag, he grinned so hard his cheeks grew achy. Remus found himself growing nervous, which wasn’t a feeling he felt often, while watching Sirius open his gift. 

“I just thought maybe you’d like some other colors too.” Remus looked away, fiddled with his fingers, watched the ground, twirled his hair, played with the loose thread of his sweater- anything to give him something to do. Sirius smiling so widely was beginning to frighten him slightly. Like maybe he was smiling extra because he hated it. But that didn’t quite make sense. 

“I love it.” 

“You do?” 

Sirius nodded so quickly his hair bobbed. “I’m going to paint them right now. For the party.”

“But they’re already painted.”

“I don’t care,” Sirius said with a shake of his head. He’d begun to walk backwards. “Red or blue.” 

“Red,” Remus responded at once, not knowing why he picked it, but thinking it was quite fitting. 

Sirius grinned a grin that split the room. “Red for Remus. It’s perfect.” And then he bounced away. 

__________

Remus Lupin’s birthday could not have been more different than Sirius Black’s. 

Growing up, it took Remus an embarrassingly sad amount of time to realize that people actually celebrated their birthday. Growing up, Remus thought it was a silly thing to celebrate at all. Sometimes he’d wonder if he’d been born at all. 

Some years, his birthday would come and go, silent and forgotten. 

Some years, he’d wake up on the 10th of March with a melancholy feeling in his chest. 

Some years, his mother said happy birthday though it was always days late. 

Some years, his father would actually look at him.

On Remus’ 16th birthday, none of those things happened. 

He woke up after two hours of sleep. Went to the dining hall for breakfast. Attended his classes. Spent some time in the library. Napped by the lake. And by dinner, found himself curled up in a chair in the common room. 

It was any other day. Remus’ birthday was just as unimportant and uneventful as any other day. Because how do you celebrate the birth of a person who was so awful at being one? 

Remus Lupin was not born. He was just…not there one minute, and there the next. 

Remus Lupin did not have, nor deserve, a birthday. 

James Potter was born. 

James Potter was someone whose life could take over a room. Whose energy flowed in and out of every person around him. Who had the ability to breathe life into someone with a smile. Who gave life to everyone around him by just being himself. 

Except Remus.

Because Remus Lupin was broken. He was sure of it. And being around James Potter proved it. 

Seventeen days after Remus was birthed, James Potter was born. 

While everyone was in the common room celebrating someone who shone brighter than the sun, Remus was speaking to the moon. Out by the lake, positioned perfectly in front of the common room windows (except the window was many, many stories up), Remus sunk into the cool grass. He looked up to the sky where the stars peeked out from behind foggy clouds; the moon was full, or maybe just almost full, but it was bright and silver and the clouds did nothing to silence it. 

Remus opened his mouth and waited for the confession he’d been holding in all day to float out onto the grass, to mix with the dew, and be soaked up by the moon and hidden away forever. 

“I wish I could’ve been born a different person.”

“Or maybe just to different people.” Because your parents are what make you who you are, right? 

“I think I was jealous of James Potter today.” 

“I’ve never gotten a birthday cake.”