Veritas
At first, remus was completely against wanting to go to Hogwarts. He hardly remembered going to nursery before the attack, let alone a real school. His only human interactions were with his parents and brother, and the occasional worker on the odd chance his mother took him shopping with her. Romulus insisted it would be fine, despite sharing his brothers concern on the matter.
Beyond his own fear though, he still wanted his brother to get the opportunity to live a normal life, despite his affliction. For so long he’d been sheltered from the outside world, robbed of any chance of being a normal kid.
As the warmer months came, he’d drag Remus with him to his rugby practices, forcing him to mingle with his friends. Remus didn’t seem to like them very much at first; they were loud and naughty and intimidated him. Remus still hadn’t really developed the social skills of dealing with anyone outside of his family, so he would frequently embarrass Romulus, who hid it quite well.
By July, Remus was more than excited to go to school. Romulus credited himself, being the one who forced Remus out into the world against their parents wishes. Their father had given them a few more books to read, Remus’ favourite one being about boggarts. Romulus thought he probably enjoyed it so much strictly because it dealt with the same work their father did.
He’d sit on the carpeted floor of their room and read it over and over again, sometimes to himself and sometimes out loud. Now, Romulus loved his brother, he really did. But there were only so many times you can be shown the same picture of a boggart before you want to chuck a pillow at said persons head.
“Oh, and they can also hide behind bookcases if they’re narrow enough,”
“Yeah,”
“-and also in closets and.. Romulus, could you just imagine opening our closet and a boggart flying out?!”
“Not really.”
“Well you should try to, just in case.”
Romulus let out a huff as Remus babbled on about the same topic he had for many nights. If it weren’t boggarts, it were centaurs, and if it weren’t centaurs, it were merfolk. In fact, he read them so often that Romulus hadn’t even needed to touch once, because he already knew what every page said. He glanced over at the little clock on the wall, reading quarter past eleven.
“Remus, can’t you finish reading it tomorrow night?” He grumbled, pulling his blanket over himself.
“No, it won’t be the same if I read it tomorrow night.” He said simply, tracing his finger over one of the pictures.
“Well it was the same the last four times you’ve read it.” Romulus finally gave in an chucked one of his pillows at Remus, which bounced off the back of his head. Remus whipped around, narrowing his eyes at his brother. He wound his arm back, book in hand as if to lug at Romulus, whose eyes widened.
“Throw it at me and I’ll make sure you never read anything again.” He threatened, arms raised in preparation. Remus seemed to contemplate his brothers words before slinging the hard back book at him. It wasn’t a thick book, but the intention was all that mattered to Romulus. Before it could even make impact, Romulus dove out of bed towards his brother, knocking him flat. Remus kicked his legs, both swinging their arms in some attempt to whack the other. Remus managed to shove Romulus off of him, quickly scurrying to his feet.
“Piss off or I’ll..Ill..” his eyes darted around the room, landing on one of his books.
“I’ll put a spell on you and glue you to the ceiling.”
Romulus scoffed, “no you won’t, you can’t do that.”
“Yes I can! I read it in my book. The one dad gave me for my birthday because he knows I’m way more powerful than you.”
Remus knew he couldn’t do it, and he knew Romulus knew it too. Still, he hoped his brother wouldn’t call his bluff.
“You’re not more powerful than me, you don’t even know any magic you prat!”
Remus tightened his lips and pushed past Romulus, jumping into his bed. He yanked the covers over his head to avoid anymore nonsense from his brother; it didn’t work.
“Oi! You tossed a book at my bloody head you can’t just go to bed!” Romulus whisper-yelled, whacking the lumped blanket Remus hid beneath.
“You said you wanted to go to bed! Then go to bed!” A muffle came from under the cover, a stray foot kicking out in attempt to push Romulus away.
“Whatever.” Romulus finally mumbled, thumping back to his own bed. He looked back at the clock as he climbed into his sheets, they were lucky their dad hadn’t came in and banged their heads together for all the noise.
“And another thing, I’m older so I’d be the more powerful wizard.” Romulus whispered across the room as he turned the lamp off.
~
Remus wasn’t home; their mum had taken him to buy new shoes for school, as he’d never had proper ones before. Romulus chose to stay home, not needing another reminder that he’d have to go back to school soon, even if it involved magic. He was playing with a few stray bits of Lego, sticking them together and unsticking them again; Remus and him were never able to properly build any of the sets so they just had a ton of loose pieces everywhere. He built something that resembled a sad, disfigured plane with multicoloured wings, gathering a few books to make a runway. Before he could line it up and toss it across the room, one book in particular caught his attention. Not because of the cover, but because of the bits of paper sticking out of it.
He flicked it open, revealing pages had been ripped out in certain parts, the paper causing the inner hem of the book to weaken. It was remus’ favourite book, all about mythical creatures and beasts. It confused him; Romulus had good reason to want to rip pages out of the stupid book, but Remus? His curiosity grew, so he decided to do some detective work. He flicked through some of the other books, all seemingly perfectly intact. He scanned the book shelf for stay tear offs and loose papers only to find nothing. He decided he’d grown bored of his investigation, plopping back down on the ground to resume his previous task.
As he tossed the Lego plane, it quickly nose dived before exploding into tiny pieces all over the floor. He smiled in satisfaction before crawling to pick them up, sticking them together for a second attempt.
As he crawled along the carpet, he noticed wads of paper shoved under Remus’ bed. Ah yes, his mission was back on. He laid flat and stuck his arm under, pulling at various balls of the scalped pages.
He un-crumpled a page and felt his excitement vanish. Bold text stapled across the top of the page: werewolf. He skimmed his eyes over the text;
Vicious creatures, unstable, more animal than man.
He smoothed out another, revealing more text under the same topic. images of sharp toothed creatures, menacing and hungry. His heart quickened regretting his nosiness and feeling like the cat curiosity killed. He balled papers back up frantically, shoving them under his bed except one; a portrait of a werewolf and its anatomy. His legs looked like a dogs, its face elongated and animalistic. It nails, no- not nails, claws were like daggers and his body covered in hair. He folded it before shoving it in his pocket, making his way to his bedroom door and running downstairs.
His father was at the kitchen table writing what could only be reports and various paperwork, a pair of glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose. Romulus caught his eye as he made his way into the kitchen, his expression distressed.
“Well? What’s the matter?” Lyall finally asked as his son stood before him in silence, his hand tucked in his pocket. The boy said nothing as he slid out out, unfolding the paper and setting it on the table. His father said nothing as he looked it over, lightly pushing it aside with his fingers.
“Did you destroy the book I bought you and re-“
“Remus did it himself.”
More silence. Lyall seemed to be mulling over what to say, unsure of what response Romulus could possibly want.
“It’s probably just not a very nice reminder to him.” He finally said, hoping his answer would satisfy his son.
“Nice reminder? Dad,” he yanked the portrait off the table, holding it up,
“This isn’t some sort of joke is it? This is what happens to him?”
Romulus knew of Remus’ affliction, yes. He’d seen the attack with own eyes, a thought he’d have to live seeing over and over again in his mind. He’d heard Remus’ screams when Lyall’s silencing charms weren’t enough, and he’d seen the aftermath. What he hadn’t properly seen, was exactly what became of him on those gruesome nights.
“It’s not his fault, Romulus-“
“I know, the bastard who did it got away!”
“Language!” His father bellowed, instantly quieting the boy. He let out a heavy sigh as romulus pulled a chair out and sat, not wanting to leave the conversation there.
“It..the man who did it. The beast that hurt him..” Lyall was conflicted. Not even Hope knew the truth. How could he tell her? How could he tell his son, the twin of the child he caused so much pain to?
“He didn’t just happen to come across our home out here in wales. When I was on London years ago, working with the ministry, I caught his attention. I said horrible things, rotten things. Things I can’t even bring myself to repeat.”
Romulus said nothing, so Lyall kept talking.
“He were on trial at the time. Had I known he’d walk free, I would have bit my tongue. Not that any of the things I had said were right, of course.” He drew a sigh, his eyes burning. He tried to keep his attention on his hands to distract himself.
“It had been weeks, I had forgotten all about him. That is, until he came back. That night…when he-“ his breath caught in his throat, a lump he couldn’t swallow forming.
“Remus would have been dead. If he had gotten his way, you probably both would be. Because of me.”
Romulus hadn’t known when he started crying, he just knew he was in that moment.
He tried to conjure something to say, but there was nothing. He kept his bleary eyes fixated on his father, who’s head fell in his hands.
“Not even your mother knows the truth, she’s be absolutely shattered. If she found out that Remus, oh god, Remus..” his father choked out a sob, which he’d never witnessed before.
“And you, here I am burdening you with all of this. It seems as if I can’t help but hurt everyone in this family.”
Romulus wanted to feel angry, he did, underneath all of the shock. On the opposing side of things, he couldn’t scream at the face of his crying father. He was still at that age where he didn’t understand that his parents were people and not just his parents, that adults can make mistakes. He couldn’t his father messing up so bad that he’d have to be yelled at by his father the same way Lyall would yell at him. He wished he could comfort his dad is some way, despite knowing his brother was only like this because of him.
“When I was in second year, I called miss Larson a cow to Danny Craddock, and she over heard and made me write lines at recess..”
It was completely incomparable to his fathers situation, but it was an attempt. His father was a good man, a good man bared with the consequences of irrational action.
His father said nothing, and he himself had nothing more to say. He rose from the table, taking the piece of paper with him. Before leaving the kitchen, he grabbed the match box off of the counter by the sink and slipped out the front door, barefoot. Kicked up rock from the pavement dug into the soles of his feet, but he hardly felt it.
He made his way to one of the fields, water pooling where it had rained recently. He crouched down over one of the deep puddles of flooded grass, sticking a match between his teeth as he took the paper out of his pocket. He struck it, the smell of sulphur hanging in the air as he burned the edge of the paper.
He got off easy; he could set fire to the picture and the werewolf would go away. Remus how ever, couldn’t. Before the flame could lap at his fingertips, he dropped it in the water, watching it fizzle out and blacken.
He couldn’t tell the truth about his father, not for his sake but for Remus’. He gazed up at the sky, the moon waxing. For the first time, he felt as horrified by it as he imagined Remus were.