|
Author of 26 Stories |
When you feel all alone And a loyal friend is hard to find You're caught in a one way street With the monsters in your head When hopes and dreams are far away and You feel you can't face the day
Remus:
"Is it that simple?" I said aloud. But no answer came, not that I expected one. There were no answers for this. The headmaster had warned me not to tell anyone of my darkest secret unless I was entirely confident that they would not betray my trust, and it was this particular piece of advice that was making me pace around and around the Gryffindor common room at three o'clock in the morning.
"I should be in bed right now," I berated myself. "Honestly, I should be studying for that accursed Potions test instead of wearing a hole in the carpet." But I made no move to leave the room. Matters far more urgent than unstudied-for Potions tests had driven me from my bed, and I knew that textbook inside out and backwards, anyway.
"Can I tell them?" I asked myself, then laughed softly and answered my own question. "Oh, yeah, just walk up to them and tell them I'm a werewolf. Not in this lifetime. But they deserve to know, they deserve . . . better than me." My voice trailed off into silence.
Who was I to know? I was always an outsider, so much so that it had long since ceased to bother me. I usually preferred my own company, and had in the process become quite the bookworm. And then I had gone to Hogwarts, and three people had changed all that. James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew.
They'd gone out of their way to be nice, and somehow they'd managed to do what no one else had been able to in years. They'd brought me out of my shell (Sirius often joked that I was part crab), and now, six months into our first year at Hogwarts, they were the best friends I could have dreamed into existence.
So why was it that every time I tried to tell them what I really was I suddenly found myself unable to speak? Would I ever find the courage to do what I knew was right?
* * * *
Let me be the one you call If you jump I'll break your fall Lift you up and fly away with you into the night If you need to fall apart I can mend a broken heart If you need to crash then crash and burn You're not alone
Sirius:
I crept into the Gryffindor common room, grinning at the prank James and I had just pulled off. We pulled off the Invisibility Cloak James' dad had given him for his eleventh birthday, and gave a sigh of deep satisfaction.
"Oh, that was sweet. Revenge on Snape at last!" James gloated.
"It was brilliant," I said softly, so not to be overheard. I wasn't certain that the common room was deserted; some Gryffindors had some very, very odd sleeping habits, and it was better safe than sorry. It was only a few months into the school year, and James and Remus and I had pulled off some bloody brilliant pranks. We'd become a terror in all our classes, with Remus and James carefully correcting the professors' grammar, as well as their pronunciation of the incantations, and me guffawing at every correction.
"The look on his face was priceless! He never-" James stopped talking abruptly, because I had put my hand over his mouth. I'd heard a voice in the common room, and I didn't know whose it was. If it was Peter's or Lupin's we were okay, but if it was a prefect, we might as well march on down to the trophy room and start polishing.
The next minute I saw the speaker, and relaxed. It was Remus. James had seen him too and was impatiently trying to pull my hand off his mouth. But I shook my head at him and ducked farther into the shadows, dragging James with me. There was something in Lupin's voice I wasn't getting, and I intended to find out what it was.
"Oh, yeah, just walk up to them and tell them I'm a werewolf. Not in this lifetime. But they deserve to know, they deserve . . . better than me," I heard Remus say, almost wistfully, and I heard James' gasp of surprise. So this was Remus' secret; this was what he'd been keeping from us all this time. I looked over at James, and the look of complete shock in his eyes was mirrored in my own.
"He didn't tell us," he hissed. "All this time, and he didn't tell us!"
"What would you've done if he had told you?" I asked. He shrugged.
"Nothing. Sure, werewolves are feared by a lot of wizards, and if it was someone else I might be a bit scared, but for heaven's sakes, it's just Remus!"
"And maybe that's why he didn't tell us," I said softly. "If we'd known before now . . . ."
"We never would've tried to be his friends," James finished my sentence for me. The self-disgusted look on his face told me that he felt the same way I did, and you could practically sum it up in four words: I felt like dirt. Forget dirt, I felt lower than dirt. Here we were, about ready to pounce on him for not telling us, when our very reaction to his words was exactly the one he feared so much.
"What do we do, then?" James asked, and I made my decision.
"We tell him we know," I said, and boldly walked out into the center of the room, with James right after me. The look of utter terror on Lupin's face made me cringe. He'd gone very pale, and his eyes were like those of a trapped animal.
"How much did you hear?" he whispered.
"Everything. We know, Remus," I said quietly, and he turned away.
"Then you'll tell everyone?" he asked wildly. He didn't wait for my answer. "Of course you'll tell. I would, if I were you. So . . . I'll go up and pack, if that's all right." He headed for the stairs, but I moved to block his way.
"Stay here," I ordered. I probably sounded mean when I said it, but it was only confusion and desperation that made me sound that way.
"Why?" he lashed back at me. "So you can make sure I understand exactly how worthless werewolves really are? If that's your intention, don't bother. I already know." I just stared at him. His words had rocked my comfortable little world, and I was suddenly seeing what it was like to be an outsider, what it was like to be considered something less than human. And I was finding out that I didn't like it one bit.
"No, Remus! You're the best friend either of us could've asked for, don't even think that!" James declared. Remus turned away from us both, but I could see the hope in his eyes. I just hoped he would not regret tonight, after it was all over and done with.
"Remus, I don't care that you're a werewolf!" I exclaimed. He looked over at me, smirking.
"Well, you said it," he said. He sounded mildly impressed.
"I said what?" I inquired.
"You said 'werewolf,' and in the presence of one, at that. That's more than most people can steel themselves to say. They're afraid of me, most of them."
"Afraid? Of mild-mannered Lupin?" James asked curiously.
"Yes. Of me. The ones that aren't are usually professional werewolf hunters and want to kill me. But anyway, I'd better start packing. I can be gone before sunrise if you'll let me go."
"You're not leaving," I said stubbornly. I started toward him, and what came next was so fast that I didn't understand what happened until after the fact. As I stepped toward Remus, he lashed out at me, and his fist connected with my jaw in a manner I had often dreamed of. I was totally unprepared for the blow, and reeled backward. I probably would've fallen if James hadn't steadied me.
"Oh God, Sirius, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. The werewolf instincts are so hard to resist in situations like those, I'm so sorry." He was babbling, and I think he knew it, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.
"Quit apologizing, Remus. You didn't hurt him much."
"Yeah, I'm fine," I assured him. "I deserved that, cornering you the way I was. And what do you mean about the werewolf instincts?" He sighed, and, seeming to realize that we weren't going to let him leave, sat back down.
"Well, they're easy enough to resist on most things. You see, a werewolf keeps his reflexes and senses, to the most part, even when he's human. Unfortunately, on an occasion like this one, the werewolf got the better of me. It's natural to the wolf to attack if it's cornered, and because of it, my instinctive reaction is very much the same as the wolf's would be under the same circumstances."
"Okay, that's quite reasonable. And I've seen your reaction time, it's incredibly fast," James said, and I grinned.
"Yeah, I know all about how fast you are, Moony; I never saw that one coming," I teased him, rubbing my jaw. I realized both of them were staring at me, and demanded to know what they were looking at me like that for.
"What did you just call me?" Remus asked, and he didn't seem as much offended as simply interested. I thought a moment, then smiled sheepishly at him.
"I called you Moony. I haven't any idea why I did, but that's what I said." He looked at me thoughtfully for a long moment.
"You know," he said after a moment, "that's not a bad nickname, is it?"
"I like it," James said, grinning.
"Me too," I put in. "What are our nicknames?" I asked, gesturing at James and me. We considered this for a few minutes in companionable silence. That's when I thought of it.
"You're Prongs," I said to James, who looked rather confused.
"What for?"
"Remember that deer in the woods behind your house?" I said seriously. He nodded.
"I remember, all right. That big buck came charging at us, and . . ."
"And I tripped," I said softly. He nodded again.
"Yeah, and I pulled you up, and we ran back to my house."
"You're leaving out the important part. You're leaving out that fact that when he stopped to help me, that buck gave you a nice slash with his horns. Mr. Modesty," I added, with a grin.
"So I'm Prongs," he said softly. "A truly fitting nickname."
"And I've got one for Sirius," Moony announced.
"What?" I asked, interested.
"Well, you know how you snuck up on me?" I nodded, and he continued. "Like a wolf or something. So you're Padfoot."
"Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs," I said. "I like it. All in favor say 'aye.'"
"Aye!" we chorused, then started laughing. After we got over our laughing fits, Remus looked over at us with amazement in his gray eyes.
"So you really don't care that I'm a werewolf? You won't tell?"
"Never!" James declared, and I held out my hand. James put his hand on top of mine, and Remus put his hand on top.
"Okay, this is our oath: to never tell Moony's secret to anyone, nor talk of it in places where certain slimy gits-not mentioning names, of course, like Snape's-could hear us. And we are the Marauders forever!"
"I'd trust no one else," Remus said quietly. "There's no one I trust more than you."
* * * *
Because there has always been heartache and pain And when it's over you'll breathe again You'll breathe again
* * * *
When you feel all alone And the world has turned its back on you Give me a moment please To tame your wild wild heart
Remus:
"James, Lily, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," I whispered, looking at the graves in front of me. They'd been killed only a few days before, and even now I knew that their deaths would be a wound that, for me, would never heal. I'd told Sirius to be their secret keeper, and he had betrayed them. He had betrayed us all.
I started to leave, then turned back to the headstones. I knelt before James' and pulled out my wand, thinking of one final tribute to the best friend I could have ever asked for. I tapped my wand against the headstone, and words appeared there, engraven into the stone: Moony, Prongs, and Padfoot Forever.
I wondered for a moment why I'd written it like that. Padfoot had betrayed them, after all, and Peter Pettigrew, as Wormtail, had joined the group in our second year. So why had I left out his name and put Sirius'?
But really, I already knew. Perhaps Sirius had betrayed them, but the name on the headstone was that of Padfoot, one of my best friends, not the name of Sirius, the betrayer. For me, they were as different as night and day, and the names Padfoot and Sirius would forever have different meanings in my mind.
My friends were gone; my world was already crashing down around me. But no matter what everyone else thought, I would always remember the three of us as Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs. And James and Sirius would always just be the two eleven year olds that had had a wisdom so many adults did not; the two kids who had put aside petty prejudices to become my best friends.
"I hope heaven suits you, James," I said softly. "No one deserves it more. And don't worry about Harry. I'll protect him with my life, if need be, like you would've done for me." I'm a reasonable man; I'm not someone who goes out of their way to proclaim everything a divine miracle. But for just a moment, I could've sworn I'd heard James' voice:
"I'd trust no one else. There's no one I trust more than you."