The job of a Secret Keeper was often an overlooked one. But an important one nonetheless. Chosen by the moon, though no one could really be sure, the Keeper of Secrets was tasked to, well, keep everyone's secrets. As simple as it sounds, yes, but who can really say but the secret keeper themself? And who could really know the secret keeper's secrets if they were so used to keeping those of everyone else? After all, it was their job. It lasted a life time and was often appreciated by the moon and the moon only. They who were anointed by the moon were not to collect secrets so much as to offer their hands to hold them.
The Secret Keeper typically led a life that was simpler than most. Their only goal being to carry the burden of unspoken words that weren't even their own. But they made them their own. It was their responsibility to accept the weight of others' innermost thoughts and hold them. That was all. Just holding every thought, wish, and dream. And with each secret came a mark. A small star engraved on the keeper's skin. Subtle. No bigger than a freckle, or maybe even the size of two if the secret was deep. The Keeper was to share the secrets with no one but the moon, who rarely offered its help in shouldering the endless streams of careful whispers and passed notes that the keeper would accumulate daily.
Remus Lupin was the Keeper of Secrets.
The most recent, at least. He didn't know why, but he pretended to never give it much thought. That wasn't his job. Giving himself or his life any amount of thought was not why he was there. He was there to be the ear into which people whispered their fears, the eyes that understood everyone else's but never knew the tenderness of their own tears, the arms to hold everyone else when the weight of their unspoken words was simply too much to bear.
No one would have guessed that words, even the ones that would never leave one's lips, could be so heavy.
Especially the ones that would never leave one's lips. Those seemed to weigh heaviest on people's hearts before the unsaid words shifted their weight to Remus' shoulders. To his skin, where they would make their mark in small stars. They were heavy. But it wasn't his job to complain. His pain was left to be unsaid. It wasn't supposed to wander from the locked borders of his mind. Remus couldn't even be sure his own thoughts were allowed to fester in his mind. But fester they did. It was fine though. It was perfectly fine. He was fine being the canvas on which unspoken words and fading dreams were finally given life.
Every secret was pretty. Radiant, even. Especially the ones that least wanted to be spoken. The ones that held the power to crush someone's heart from the inside if it went unspoken for too long. The thoughts that weren't supposed to be thought, the thoughts that most certainly weren't meant to meet anyone's ears. Those were the prettiest. The most poetic. And Remus accepted them with his open arms that were freckled with billions of tiny stars, which represented the not-tiny secrets. That's where they were stored. His skin.
Around the age of fourteen, he could barely remember the true color of his skin. All that he could see were the stars. The secrets. It was fine. It was perfectly fine. That's why his skin was there. Surely there couldn't have been another reason. It wasn't there to be touched by another. He wasn't there to be held by another, he was simply there to hold what no one else could bear to hold. He thought eventually his skin would be so full of the little freckles that they would all disappear or at least no more would come. But they did. Thousands more every day.
Who knew how many things went unspoken?
For the most part, the secrets that Remus kept were rants that were far too harsh, but amusing to Remus, to be heard by ears that weren't Remus'. Rants, untold jokes, sad truths, they all specked Remus' skin. But most of the stars were from confessions of love that would never meet the ears of the loved one. Remus hadn't realized just how many people went untold that they were loved. And when he did realize, he wished he hadn't. What was the point? What was the point in having such a powerful, for better or worse, emotion exist if it was never to be spoken? If all it ever became was a sad memory, an idea that was never fully dreamed, a dandelion that never got to grant a wish. And eventually that's all that Remus could see in love. It was just something to be missed. A flame that had no one to warm and would flicker, but never be fully extinguished. Those were the heaviest of the secrets. The love confessions. They weighed on his skin like anchors trying so desperately to pull him into the core of the Earth. And he wasn't completely reluctant. After all, it would be some sort of embrace. Maybe if the secrets finally weighed him down into the Earth, he'd disappear into its arms.
But so would the secrets.
So every day he would stand, every day he would walk, every day he would breathe. Only a portal through which the undreamed dreams and unspoken words could exist. They had lives of their own. They were powerful and danced, cartwheeled, and sang within him. They so desperately wanted to bee free to flow through the air and meet the ears for whom they were meant. But they were only every presented to the light of the moon. Secrets were only every shared between Remus' freckled hands and the moon's unhelpful light.
Sometimes people would whisper the secrets to Remus. And their echo was forever rebounding off the walls of his mind. Eventually so many trusting voices flowed through his mind that he couldn't tell one syllable from another. That was fine. That was perfectly fine. But most of the time, notes would be slipped into his pockets, tucked into his backpack, scribbled in the corner of his notebooks. Remus wore baggy sweaters in hopes that his pockets would be blocked off, he filled every inch of his tests with writing so there was no space for any more secrets, he cast spells on the zippers of his backpack so that it couldn't be opened. But somehow, the secrets still found their way to him. They found their way to his skin and his heart, left to be known by him and him only.
Forever.
Remus didn't know if he was meant to have secrets of his own. He didn't even know if his thoughts constituted being considered a secret. They were only ever known by him. Is a secret really a secret if only one person knows it? He wouldn't even tell the moon. It didn't need any more hidden truths to cover with its light. He could keep them to himself and pay them as little mind as he was capable. That was fine. That was perfectly fine. His own secrets would just be light that never found its reflection, raindrops that never reached the soil, balloons that floated away to disappear into the clouds. No one knows where the balloons go after all.
Remus often did his best to cover the stars, which was easy. Until about the age of fourteen. When they found ways onto his cheeks, first just a few specks along the rosy blush over his cheekbones. But then it became an infestation. This must have been the work of the love confessions. There were so many. But he convinced himself that he didn't mind. He supposed his face was only ever meant to hold the confessions. Who was he to defy the wishes of the moon?
Long sleeves that he pulled over his hands, baggy jeans that he tucked into his boots, fuzzy socks that reached half way up his shins. All just covers for the stars. But that didn't mean they weren't there. Only hidden. They itched sometimes. When the secrets, when the confessions, when the dreams so desperately wanted to reach the oxygen that everyone else breathed, when all they wanted was to flow through the air with all the other wishes, the ones that were spoken, they would itch. And Remus had no choice but to let them tingle his skin, let them crawl along his spine. He understood their desire to flee. He, too, so desperately wanted to escape. So he was perfectly fine letting them long to do the same.
Remus rarely let himself be hugged. Or rather, he rarely let himself want to be hugged. Or touched at all for that matter. He worried that maybe the secrets were so eager to leave him that at the smallest point of contact, they'd find their way to someone else's skin. And as much as they itched, as much as he longed to let them free, he couldn't do that to someone else. This was his job after all. His head was his to hold up. His hands weren't meant to lock with anyone else's, his shoulders weren't meant to hold anyone or anything but the secrets. He was certain that even his eyes weren't meant to leak tears, or even meet someone else's gaze. They were only made to reflect the moonlight and cry the tears of the unspoken words.
So naturally, Remus was more than hesitant to make friends. It was much harder to resist than he expected. Laughter was addicting. Shared jokes, playful smirks, understanding ears were all so enticing. But they weren't meant for him, he was convinced. Nonetheless, he found himself spending the time that he didn't with the moon with three boys. They called themselves the Marauders. James, Peter, and Sirius.
Remus had never thought his mouth was made to smile until he met them. Of course they had their own secrets, and he was more than willing to hold them for his friends. The secrets weren't ones that he hadn't heard before. James, who Remus didn't expect to have many secrets, was in love with a witty redhead girl who sat in front of him in herbology class. Another love confession that longed to escape. But Remus had the feeling that this one wouldn't be a secret for much longer. Not all secrets were trapped forever. Peter, who Remus expected to have many more secrets than he actually did, was simply shy. A few love confessions came from him, but didn't last. That happened sometimes. Sometimes the secrets would fade. It was a relief, too. Not another star to burn forever and never fully extinguish, but one that glowed as much as it would ever glow before dwindling away.
Sirius had never confessed a secret. As relieved as Remus would normally be to find someone who didn't have undreamed dreams and unwished wishes burgeoning inside them, he wanted to know Sirius. Certainly Sirius had secrets. But his weren't so easily hidden. Thrashed across his shoulders, cut across his cheeks, even burned into his palm were some of them. The secrets of his past that were barely secrets at all, but still deeper than any Remus had before faced. And there had to be more. Sirius' hair, impossibly wavy and as dark as the starless night sky, was the perfect place for secrets to hide. The mesmerizing blue of his eyes provided the perfect refuge for unspeakable words. From the second Remus met Sirius, he tried to clear space on his skin for all the secrets he knew this boy must be holding. They had to be heavy. Impossibly heavy. But Sirius smirked, he giggled, he jumped around as if he were lighter than air itself. From the second Remus met Sirius, he was intrigued.
And thus emerged another unconfessed love.
Remus only recognized it to be love because of the amount of missed opportunities and greyed dreams that were left in him. He recognized it the second he felt it. Which couldn't have been more than a week after he met Sirius. He knew he loved him. And god was that terrifying. Remus found it cruel that he, nothing but a box of empty dreams, could feel. It was cruel of the moon to leave him with thoughts to analyze other people's secrets. Cruel of it to leave him with a heart to feel them even when he knew nothing of the person who confessed them. He wasn't supposed to feel. But he never knew he could feel this much.
Maybe he should have been relieved. Relieved to discover that he was in fact human and not just a recycling bin for dying wishes. Maybe even relieved that he had the sense not to act like he deserved the emotions. The sense to just try to ignore them. But with each beat of his heart, with each blink of his eyes, each breath that shuttered through his freckled lips, he loved Sirius.
But those were just another three words left to be unspoken.
Left to fade into the night sky, left to be consumed by the moonlight, left to shine through his eyes before fading with any hope of the love being requited. Things were completely fine the way they were. Remus would collect all the secrets anyone was willing to give him. And he would leave his three words unspoken. After all, who was meant to hold the secrets of the secret keeper?
Remus only ever tried to tell the moon the secrets that he kept because it looked lonelier than he. He had the dreams to keep him company, even if they were nothing but fading wishes. He had the voices of every confessor echoing through his mind, he had the stars to hug him, whether he wanted it or not. The moon had no such company. The sky was empty of everything but the moon's light. It would cast its occasional reflection off a pond or even off Remus' eyes, but besides that, there wasn't so much as a wrinkle in the night sky to keep it company. Just a navy that was so close to fading black. The moon never made it back in time to meet the sun, so Remus offered his stories, the lost opportunities of the dreams he was told. He would finish the dreams that would never be spoken. He found himself telling stories that always started with the two words he most hated, but he was most used to thinking; "what if." He didn't know if the moon appreciated the secrets, but maybe if he told every one, every last one, the stars would be gone. But that was stupid, he decided. So sometimes he would simply go to sit in the moon's light. It would hug him even if he couldn't hug it back.
Sirius let the breeze guide him down the path that the most prominent streak of moonlight created under his feet. The night air contributed to the chaos of Sirius' hair, blowing it back to wave in the breeze as he took wandering steps down a not-at-all-steep hill. He followed the silhouette of the person whose name he had called countless times but who hadn't heard him. Their shadow was embraced in the light of the moon, blending perfectly with its yellow streak in the ground. The shadow moved so seamlessly even in the breeze of the night. It seemed unfazed. Like it had walked the path of moonlight countless times before and knew the light better than the moon knew it itself. Sirius watched the silhouette move easily through the night. How could he not love the owner of the shadow?
Remus followed the streak of moonlight that sparkled its quaint reflection on the dew drops that freckled blades of grass. He made his way toward the moon, or at least as close as he could get, though it never seemed to draw nearer. The night was still. The moon's light was as lonely as ever, a sole yellow dot in the sky, shouldering the task of illuminating the world that would drown into nothing without it. He would walk until he was too tired. Then he'd simply sit in the embrace of the moon's light. He didn't feel like talking to it tonight. He'd leave it to shine without having to listen to his stories.
"Remus!" He didn't hear.
"Remuuuus!" Sirius' voice came again. He still didn't hear.
"Moony!" Remus finally turned, stunned to see another figure hugged by the halo of the moon's light.
"Hey, Sirius." Remus smiled, forgetting that his back was to the moon and he was grinning into the dark.
Sirius heard the smile through his words, "heya, Moony." Sirius rushed his steps to catch up. "Whatcha doin?" He caught himself on Remus' shoulder, giggling lightly as Remus stopped him from collapsing and rolling down the hill.
"I dunno, sort of just walking."
"Can I join?"
"Please do," Remus smiled fondly, letting just half of his face be lit by the moon.
They followed the path that the moon laid out for them, paying little mind to where they were headed or for how long they had walked. They kept up comfortable conversation that flowed easier than the breeze until they reached a pond. It was small and inconsequential in comparison to others near their campus, but the moon took up almost half of the water's surface with its reflection. Its light was so powerful that the water rippled under it.
"Wanna sit?" Sirius offered, hesitant to turn back to their dorm. Remus hummed his approval and settled into the grass, letting his head sink into the damp blades and letting his face be held by the moonlight.
Sirius joined him in laying down. He settled closer to Remus than Remus expected, but he was warm. His breath was just a hum, but still louder over the breeze and Remus could have sworn he could feel it brushing against his cheeks.
"How was your day?" Sirius asked easily.
"It was fine, yours?"
"Mine was fine too."
The breeze picked up as if directed by the moon to do so. Sirius noticed Remus start to tremble and scooted just a little closer. Barely even a few blades of grass closer, but closer nonetheless. Whether Remus meant to or not, he shifted just a little closer too. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to feel Sirius' warmth through his sweater.
"Do you come here often?" Sirius asked.
"What?"
"God, that sounded like a line. My bad."
"Smooth."
"Thank you, thank you."
"I guess I do come here kind of often, though, yeah."
"I appreciate you answering the stupidest question you've ever been asked."
"Ha. Please. That is nowhere near the stupidest question I've been asked."
"Oh?"
"God, there are just so many from which to choose. Uhh okay okay. You know how teardrop tattoos are supposed to symbolize how many people someone has killed?"
"Oh god. Yeah?"
"Well. Someone asked if my... freckles or whatever I should call them meant the same thing."
Sirius choked on his own breath, "they WHAT?"
"It's a weird existence being what I am."
"Jesus, that's probably like three times the Earth's population."
"Uhh not quite, but still a vast overstatement. Wait. That makes it sound like I've killed someone. I haven't."
"Hmmmmmm..."
"I promise!"
"Alright, whatever you say, Secret Keeper."
"And now you're wondering if anyone has ever confessed murder to me, aren't you?"
"HOW DID YOU KNOW?!"
"I am all-knowng."
"Are you really?"
"No. Just a wise ass."
"Ah. That I can confirm."
"Hey!"
Sirius chuckled. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"Has anyone?"
"Confessed murder? No."
"Ah, damn."
"You find that disappointing?"
"I don't know, that just makes your job seem kinda boring."
"Wow, I feel so seen."
"Ah that's not what I meant I just-"
Remus giggled, "I know, I know. Murder confessions would certainly make things much more entertaining."
"More illegal too."
"Entertaining nonetheless."
"True." Sirius paused, considering his next question carefully. "What do your... freckles or whatever you should call them mean?"
Remus paused.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked."
"No, no, it's okay. I don't completely know, I just know that I get a new one every time someone tells me a secret."
"Oh that's- a lot."
"Yeah."
"I like them."
"Really?"
"Yeah, they're not as cool as teardrop tattoos, but they're still pretty cool."
Remus giggled, "thanks."
Another gust of wind pushed them just barely closer together. The cool air of the night was enough to leave both of them frozen, but they were close enough to appreciate each other's warmth. Sirius habitually focused on the stable inhale and exhale of Remus' breath. And in such a simple moment, with the moonlight tying them together, with the darkness isolating them from the rest of the world, with the breeze pulling them closer to one another, Sirius had never loved Remus more. And that was his secret. The only one he had that wasn't burned, cut, or thrashed into his skin. The only secret he had that he didn't want to be a secret anymore.
"Hey Sirius?" Remus asked after a while.
Sirius hummed his acknowledgement and easily turned his face from the moon to Remus, whose face was fully embraced in the moon's light.
"Why don't you- I mean I don't really know if I'm allowed to ask this."
"Go ahead."
"You don't have to answer, but do you- do you have any secrets?" Remus immediately regretted how stupid the question sounded. "God, I'm sorry that was a stupid question. Ignore that."
Sirius giggled lightly. The laughter faded into the night's breeze after echoing in Remus' ears. It was nice to have something besides despaired confessions to echo through his thoughts for a change. "That's not a stupid question."
"So... d-do you?"
"Have secrets? Hmmmmm... I guess that's for me to know and you to find out."
"Smug ass."
"Hey! Okay, yeah, you're right."
Remus chuckled. "Not that you have to, but why don't you tell them to me?"
Sirius considered the question for a minute. "Why don't you tell me yours?"
Remus was speechless. Never before had someone asked him for his own secrets. Never before had anyone wondered if he even had any. He wasn't sure he was even supposed to, himself.
"Don't get asked that much do you?" Sirius observed.
"Not so much."
"I'm sorry."
A loss for words again.
"You don't have to be sorry. You can tell me anything, I promise. That's why I'm here."
Sirius locked just his pinky with Remus'. A small gesture. Gentle, gradual. "That's not the only reason you're here."
Remus turned to face him. He didn't expect to see his eyes. He expected nothing but dark circles barely visible through the darkness of the night. But no. The moonlight didn't have to invite itself to reflect in his eyes, his eyes took the light's beauty and made it their own. He was breathtaking. "I can't be so sure."
"Remus."
"Sorry, that was kind of dark."
Sirius said nothing. Remus drew his hand closer until their fingers were just loosely laced together.
"Okay, fine. I have a confession," Sirius finally said.
"You really don't have to-"
"I love you."
Remus almost laughed. It had to be a joke. He wasn't there to be loved. That wasn't his job. But Sirius wasn't joking. And somehow Remus knew it. Somehow, his star-freckled hands, which he never thought would serve any purpose besides holding the weight of unspoken words, fit perfectly with Sirius'.
Remus sat up. He looked to the moon. It had nothing to say, so he turned back to Sirius, who had sat up with him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" Sirius started.
Remus leaned to him, pulling Sirius closer with his freckled hand on Sirius' neck. "Can I?" he spoke just into Sirius' lips. So close not even the moonlight could hear. With no hesitation, Sirius closed the small gap between their lips.
They fit perfectly together. Remus was meant to fit with Sirius. For the first time since that first little star had found its way onto his hand, he didn't feel the weight of any secrets pulling on his skin. He was weightless. So light he could be swept away like a leaf in the breeze. He wasn't the most recent Secret Keeper. He was Remus Lupin.
When they parted, Remus was quiet, but only because he couldn't speak through the smile that Sirius mirrored as their foreheads were pressed together. When he finally collected the strength to speak, he whispered right into Sirius' lips, "I love you too."
And the sky glowed brighter than he had ever seen it. The moon's light was still as breathtaking as ever, but it wasn't all alone in illuminating the world. It had billions of blindingly bright spots freckling the space around it, offering their company, offering their light to relieve the moon of some of its duty. The stars.
Remus stared up at it, mesmerized by the spots that looked so small in the sky, but still shined so brightly. They lent their light to his skin. It was clear. As clear as the night sky had been just seconds ago. No more stars. No more secrets pulling him down to the core of the Earth. No more desperate whispers and undreamed dreams trying to maneuver their way out of his skin. It was clear.
The Keeper of Secrets did have a secret. But when he shared it, all the others slipped away. They were wishes that escaped to the sky in the form of stars. No longer his burden. He didn't know how easy breathing could be when his chest wasn't fighting the weight of billions of unspoken words.
"Holy shit," Sirius whispered, gaping up at the sky with one arm around Remus' waist.
"Yeah," Remus could barely whisper with the last of his breath.
And they stayed gazing up at the stars.
Remus didn't know what happened to the secrets. Maybe they became wishes, maybe they wouldn't always be unspoken, maybe each star would find its way back to the person who first dreamed the dream, thought the thought, or wished the wish that created it. But whatever happened, it wasn't his job to care anymore. He had his own dreams. He was allowed to have his own dreams. He was even meant to have them. But he didn't want to keep them to himself.
Sirius loved Remus.
Remus loved Sirius.
And that was no longer a secret.