CHAPTER TWELVE: Confessions of a Pre-Teen Werewolf [Part One]
Remus was walking around on pins and needles the next day. It seemed that every time he looked at Sirius and James, the two boys were deep in whispered conversation. He had no doubt they were trying to figure out the best way to go investigate the Whomping Willow to find their alleged hole. It was there, of course, and if anyone could find it, Sirius and James could. They would certainly override any of Remus’s half-hearted protests.
Their secrecy, though, was entirely unnerving, for Remus was now mere hours away from transformation. If they somehow broke free and explored the passage tonight after sundown... Remus never let himself finish those thoughts. He was sinking into a mild depression rapidly, like he sometimes did around the full moon, but this time it was different. This time there were lives on the line. His condition, his lycanthropy, had only been physically harmful to himself thus far, but now he had his best friends to think about. He had to stop them from exploring the passage, or at least delay them until he was in the clear. But did that mean telling them? Confessing?
Luckily for Remus it was Wednesday, a pretty busy day for the Gryffindors. Sirius and James had so far not managed to sneak out of Potions during first period or Defense Against the Dark Arts after that, and they were more than an hour into Double Transfiguration in the afternoon. Next came a chunk of free time, sure, but they had Astronomy at midnight and Remus was positive neither had finished his star chart. He breathed deeply. Maybe he was in the clear. Maybe they would remain busy enough to put off their expedition for a few days....
No such luck, of course. Merely two seconds after Remus had this comforting thought, a crumpled wad of parchment landed on the table he was sharing with James. It was surely from Sirius, who was sitting at the next table over with Peter. James grinned and shot a look to the front of the room to make sure Professor McGonagall was still drawing a complicated diagram on the chalkboard. She was. He opened the note:
Eat quickly. Meet in CR at 5:30. Just enough daylight left to explore WW.
--S
Remus was vaguely aware of the blood draining from his face as he re-read the note. Well, that was it, then. Unless he said something, Sirius, James, and Peter would traipse down to the Whomping Willow only minutes before Madam Pomfrey led him down the passage to transform.
Hands slightly shaking, Remus tore a bit of his own parchment and scribbled a reply note, eliciting a stare from James. Remus never wrote notes in class, and especially not under the hawk-like stare of Professor McGonagall. James looked on, his eyes growing wider as Remus wrote:
No! Abort mission! Meet in SG at 5:30. I’ll explain, promise.
--R
Remus passed the note to James, who read it again, crumpled it, and tossed it over to Sirius, who had quite the similar reaction. Only Peter seemed to accept Remus’s decision. Then again, only Peter knew about Remus’s odd relationship with and special knowledge of the Whomping Willow.
Sirius managed to scribble something back before McGonagall turned to face the class again:
Meet in the Greenhouse? This must be serious.
(Pun, of course, NOT intended)
--S
Remus nodded and turned back to his beetles, which looked decidedly unlike buttons. The Common Room would be too crowded for what he had to say. Their Secret Greenhouse, discovered at the end of first year, would be a much better choice. Not like Remus actually had any idea what he was going to say. He would have roughly thirty minutes of time before he had to head to the infirmary to meet Madam Pomfrey. Certainly half an hour was not sufficient time to confess one’s deepest, darkest secret and gauge one’s friends’ reactions. No, he would just somehow convince them to hold off on the Willow, wait for him while he ducked out for another mysterious absence, and then hope all would be forgiven and forgotten the next morning.
“You are sure, Mr. Black, that these buttons were originally beetles?” Professor McGonagall’s voice jarred Remus’s wandering mind back to the present. Sirius was nodding sweetly as she inspected his perfect black buttons. “They were not,” she continued, “originally part of your shirt, perhaps? Or taken from some cache of second-year Transfiguration items?” Sirius shook his head and smiled.
“And you, Mr. Potter,” she said, rounding on James. “You also swear that these buttons did not exist prior to this moment, here and now?”
“Only as beetles, Professor,” he said, admiring his own handiwork.
“Very well,” she replied, allowing a small smile. “Ten points to Gryffindor for you two. To the rest of you, kindly take a glimpse at Potter and Black’s buttons and notice how none of them have legs, wings, or antennae. And seven inches of parchment, also, on the correct process of insect-to-item Transfiguration. Due Friday. Class dismissed.”
“Load of rubbish,” Janus Killeffer, the fifth Gryffindor boy, muttered as they filed out of the classroom. “Peter’s button had three legs and a wing and mine only had one antenna, but I still have to write the full seven inches.”
“Yeah, and Remus’s beetles didn’t look a thing like buttons!” Peter squeaked, apparently thinking this was a good defense of his own misshapen button.
“Oh, seven inches isn’t that bad,” Gwendolyn said, shoving her book into her bag. “Slughorn’s making us do fifteen on that Confusion Concoction. How is that even possible?”
“Well, at least Slughorn lets some of us get away with giant handwriting on his essays,” James said, casting a derisive glare at Lily, who did, in fact, have slightly larger penmanship than the rest.
“Hey, that’s not fair!” she responded, her mouth open in disgust. “I always add at least an inch to make up for it!”
“No, you add an inch because you’ve memorized the Potions textbook,” Sirius retorted.
“Oh, Lil, he’s got a point,” Gwendolyn said, smiling as Lily just shrugged.
“Well, I’m going to head to the library and get a head start on this essay. Any takers?” Lily asked.
Remus agreed, and the two of them turned off and headed down a different corridor. “See you at five-thirty!” Sirius called after Remus.
“What are you doing then?” Lily asked after the rest of the group was out of earshot. “Hopefully not going to play that horrible Whacking game?” She managed a little laugh, but Remus knew her question was in earnest. He could hear the anxiety in her voice.
“No,” he smiled. “We’re just... meeting. I wanted to talk to Sirius and James, and this is the only time we all have free tonight.”
“Why not before Astronomy?” she asked, innocently enough.
Remus gulped. He hadn’t quite settled on an excuse for this month yet. “Uh... er...” He was stalling, and she could tell. “I’m not feeling too well. I think I’m going to head to the infirmary after dinner.”
Well technically that wasn’t even a lie, he thought. Lily even seemed to agree with him, though her words were somewhat hesitant. “Yeah, you seem a bit... preoccupied, I guess. D’you think you’re coming down with something?”
Remus just nodded as they turned into the library. He didn’t really want to work on his essay just then. He didn’t really want to do anything except think about what he would say to the boys later that evening. No, he really wanted to talk to Professor Dumbledore, who had told him repeatedly that his door was always open. Knocking on that door was a different matter, however, and Remus knew that what he truly wanted to ask the headmaster might not be pleasing: “Hello, Professor? Remus Lupin here. Just wondering if it’s all right for me to confess this horrible, gut-wrenching, destructive secret to my friends, potentially jeopardizing all that you have sacrificed for me to be here. Why? Oh, no reason, just that I’m terrified of killing them...”
Yeah, it wasn’t an enjoyable thought.
Sighing, he plopped into a chair and pulled out A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration and a fresh piece of parchment.
“OK, the proper technique for insect-to-item Transfiguration,” said Lily, speaking aloud as she wrote on her parchment. “First step: concentrate.”
Easier said than done....
***
A few hours later the boys were gathered in the Secret Greenhouse. In the few months they had known about it, it had proved immensely useful, not only as a meeting point, but also as a general hideout and hangout. Remus sometimes liked to bring his homework or a good book up when the Common Room was too distracting. Peter had started growing a few plants in salvaged pots and trays. And it was in the Greenhouse that Sirius and James had perfected Time-Release Dungbombs, among other various tricks. Finally”and most importantly, perhaps”it was the resting place of The List, the running record of all the passages and castle secrets found by the boys. It was this very List that Sirius now brandished at Remus.
“Come on, Remus! If it really is a secret passage underneath the tree, think how exciting that is! It would be the first really cool thing to add to The List!”
“Yeah, why can’t we explore it?” added James, in a bit of a whine.
Remus sighed, then smiled at his friends. “Guys, you know I would never intentionally block an addition to The List. I care about it just as much as you, right?”
“Right!” exclaimed Sirius and James simultaneously.
“So you know, then,” Remus continued, holding up a hand to stop their protests, “that I am not trying to be boring or a killjoy or anything. You just really have to trust me on this one. Hold off on exploring the passage”if it’s there”until at least tomorrow. Please.” It wasn’t a question. Remus hoped they would understand.
“Why can’t you just tell us the reason now?” Sirius asked, taking a step closer. “I mean, Peter already told us that you know how to stop and start the tree! What else do you know?”
Remus shot Peter an angry glare. “Oh, Peter told you, did he?” Peter just scooped dragon dung onto his Shrivelfig and looked away, a bit of pink spreading up his cheeks.
Remus ran his hand through his hair, an action that staunchly reminded him of his own father during moments of great frustration. He suddenly felt much older than his twelve-and-a-half years, but then again, he was used to that feeling. “Look, mates, I promise that if you just wait twenty-four hours, I will be the first one down to that tree, torch in hand, ready to explore. Can you just give it one day?”
A brief silence passed before James spoke. “Of course, man. Do what you need to do. We’ll stay away, right, Sirius?”
“Yeah, all right,” Sirius said, somewhat begrudgingly. “But tomorrow afternoon, we’re in for some excitement, Remus!” He flashed his trademark grin.
Remus returned the grin, though his was a bit rueful. “You can say that again.”
After all, what was more exciting than hearing one of your best friends confess that he was a werewolf? For that was what he had decided to do. Twenty-four hours from now, his secret, his burden, his anxiety would be gone. He would spill his dangerous secret and pray that his friends understood.
Remus was terrified.
***
This time, it had been incredibly painful. Remus woke up in the morning covered with a bevy of new scars. It was like his body knew. It was like he”the part of him that emerged during transformation”knew that he”the normal Remus”was about to give ‘them’ away.
The scars were pretty bad. He even had to go to the hospital wing, something he hadn’t done in a few months. He knew he was missing Double Charms, but he also knew Lily would be more than happy to fill him in. But it wasn’t just the make-up work he was concerned about. New scars always meant new questions, and he wanted his big confession to go as smoothly as possible.
Just then, though, in walked the one person in the whole world that Remus wanted to see most: Albus Dumbledore. The headmaster did a wonderful job of checking in on Remus every month or so to make sure things were going smoothly and so forth. But he looked particularly concerned today as he pulled up a chair next to Remus’s bed.
He smiled, eyes twinkling”as always”through his half-moon glasses. “Hello, Remus,” he said calmly. “How are you feeling today?”
“OK, sir, thanks,” he said, idly playing with one of his bandages.
“Seems to me like this time might have been a little rougher than usual.”
“Yes sir,” Remus said, not wanting to reveal just how painful it had been.
The headmaster leaned back in his chair and put his hand on his chin. “Do you have any idea why that might be, Mr. Lupin?”
Remus had a tiny idea, but decided not to risk it. He shook his head. “Do you, professor?”
“I’m glad you asked,” said Dumbledore, his smile widening. “I do, in fact. A small theory. You see,” he said, leaning forward once again, “The general public makes the mistake of characterizing werewolves as people who are overtaken by this completely strange force once a month, with no way to control it. And this is an easy misconception, no? I’m sure sometimes you feel this way.”
Remus nodded. He had never really thought of it any other way, and was wondering why Dumbledore called this a ‘misconception.’
“But I believe that your lycanthropy is incredibly in tune with your body and your mind. You cannot control it, perhaps, but you can influence it.” He paused and surveyed the damage done to Remus’s face and arms. “To demonstrate: your scars this morning look particularly painful,” he said, pointing at Remus’s face. “Would it be incorrect of me to assume that you have been under a significant deal of stress in the past few days? Anxiety?”
“No, that’s right. When Davey Gudgeon and the boys were playing near the Willow it really spooked me,” Remus said, glancing to his right, where Davey Gudgeon had been recovering the day before.
“Quite understandable,” Dumbledore said with a nod. “You were worried that Mr. Black and Mr. Potter would find the secret passage, no doubt?” he asked, the twinkle brightening. “Oh, don’t worry about spilling their secret,” Dumbledore said as Remus began to stutter a denial. “I fully endorse the thorough investigation of all potential secret passages. This castle is full of surprises. I’ve been here more years than I can remember, and I constantly find new things.”
“Sirius and James will find that either amazing or discouraging. Probably amazing,” Remus said with a smile.
Dumbledore chuckled and glanced at his strange pocket watch. “Remus, I am afraid I cannot stay to divulge any of my castle secrets, as I’m overdue for a meeting with our newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, but I have no doubt that our excellent Madam Pomfrey will have you all mended in the briefest of minutes.”
The headmaster stood up to leave and Remus gulped, realizing his chance. If he wanted to talk to Dumbledore, this was it. “Professor?” he said, sitting upright in his bed. “If you’ve got just one more minute, there’s something I’d really like to ask to you about.”
“I know, Remus,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “Why do you think I came down here? I really must leave right now, but at lunch today, keep your eye on the High Table. After I finish eating, wait a minute, and then meet me in the Entrance Hall. It seems like a lot of undue secrecy and artifice, I know, but if the other students see you and I having a private meeting, they’ll all assume I’ve put you down for Remedial Potions or am chucking you out of the school for tossing one too many Dungbombs in the caretaker’s office, and we can’t have that now, can we?” He winked and turned for the door.
Remus nodded and watched Dumbledore walk out of the hospital wing. He knew that while Remedial Potions probably wasn’t such a bad idea for him, the real reason Dumbledore was going through so much trouble was something else: people were getting suspicious. And while Dumbledore certainly knew that Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter were about as close as friends could be, he also knew that they couldn’t afford any slip-ups or more awkward questions.
He looked at the small clock on his bedside table as Madam Pomfrey came over to dab more ointment onto his cuts and scrapes. It was just past ten in the morning. If he hustled, he could make it for the tail end of Charms. Then if he could just make it through History of Magic”a daunting task any day”it would be lunchtime, and all his questions would be answered.
***
“Well, ol’ Binnsy really outdid himself today,” James said as they exited the History of Magic classroom. “Who knew it was possible to turn something exciting like an interspecies war into such monotonous drivel?”
“I knew,” Sirius said, glancing down at his notes (which were little more than three sentences on a tiny piece of parchment). “After a year and a half of this, I’ve come to expect nothing less. Good thing it’s time for my favorite subject: Lunch.”
The rest of the Gryffindors shouted their agreements and they turned to head down to the Great Hall.
Some of Remus’s favorite dishes were being served for lunch, but he didn’t really feel like eating. He idly pushed his food around on his plate, stealing glances up to the High Table every few minutes. He drifted in and out of the conversation, which revolved around items in the Daily Prophet that had not already been discussed at breakfast.
“This is pretty neat: Freya Sorenson, one of the only Animagi of this century, takes the form of a hawk, and is using her talent to make a documentary film about post owls.”
“Booooring,” Sirius said, taking a large bite of his spaghetti.
“What’s an Animagi?” Lily asked, ignoring Sirius’s comment.
“Animagi are witches or wizards who can turn themselves into animals. It’s incredibly hard to do, and there are only a few on record throughout this whole century,” Marlene responded.
“How cool would it to become an Animagus like a hawk? You could fly!” Gwendolyn said, her eyes scanning the story.
“Yeah, or you could hop on a broomstick. Like I said: boring,” Sirius responded. “Now give us the Sports section, if you please.”
Gwendolyn chucked the paper at Sirius. “Not much in there about Quidditch today. Big story on Quodpot, though.”
Sirius groaned, and repeated himself: “Booooring.”
“Oh, you’re so wrong, Sirius,” Artemia said as she snatched the paper away from him. “Quodpot’s great. I hope they’re planning on expanding the teams in Britain!”
“What’s Quodpot?” Lily asked, a little embarrassed of her continued ignorance of so many magical things.
“For some reason that is absolutely beyond my ability to grasp, Americans do not like Quidditch, and prefer this other, horrendous sport,” Sirius said with a great roll of his eyes.
“Stark raving mad, they are,” James agreed. “Who doesn’t like Quidditch?”
“That’s the spirit, boys!” said Jack Daltrey, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. He was sitting a few seats down from the Gryffindor second years, and soon they were involved in a discussion of tactics.
Remus drifted out of the conversation, looked up to the High Table, and saw that Dumbledore was just standing up to leave. Remus shoveled down a few more bites of spaghetti and gulped a goblet of juice, then stood up to leave.
“Taking off so soon?” Lily asked, glancing at her watch.
“Yeah,” Remus said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I wanted to check one thing in the library before Herbology, but I’ll meet you all at the greenhouses.”
Lily nodded and waved, and Remus made his way into the Entrance Hall, where Dumbledore was waiting for him. The old wizard smiled and gestured for Remus to follow him.
Remus had been to Dumbledore’s office a few times before, but it never ceased to amaze him. It seemed like the headmaster had a new contraption or gadget every single time Remus came. It was wonderful. And normally he would have asked about them, but time was tight, and Remus had one question only, which he blurted out as soon as Dumbledore had taken his seat: “Can I tell my friends, Professor?”
“Well, let’s cut to the chase, shall we?” Dumbledore said with a smile, and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose.
“I’m sorry, sir. It’s just been on my mind for a while.”
“Perfectly understandable, Remus. I should think that the pressure of lying to them is getting to you, no?”
“Yes sir, it really is. And,” he continued, noticing that his leg had started twitching like it always did when he was nervous, “I think they’re starting to suspect something. Sirius and James especially. And Peter,” he added as an afterthought.
“Hmm,” Dumbledore said, and rested his chin on his hands. “That does not surprise me. As I alluded to earlier this morning in the infirmary, it is my belief that your lycanthropy reacts to your emotions and your habits, and manifests itself in your outward behavior. Anybody who spends a significant amount of time with you would be sure to notice these changes, and it helps that your friends are incredibly astute and inquisitive by nature.”
Remus nodded as Dumbledore spoke again. “The question is, do you think they already know? It is certainly possible, especially if they have paid attention to the dates of your absences.”
“I’m not sure, Professor,” Remus confessed. “If they know, they haven’t said anything to me. But I think I’ve been noticing more and more strange looks between them. It could be just my imagination, but I don’t think so.”
Dumbledore nodded. “And you would like to tell them?”
“I really would, sir.”
“Do you think they can handle the news? It is an exceptionally serious matter, Remus, and while you have handled it with a great deal of bravery, you must not expect a similar reaction from others.” Dumbledore inclined his head and leaned forward to look more closely at Remus.
Remus paused and looked down at his hands, considering what Dumbledore had just said. It was true; this was certainly a heavy matter, and would come as a shock, no matter if the boys had any suspicions or not. Could they handle it? Remus was torn. Part of him dwelled on the boys’ immaturity. Part of him shouted that he was tired of lying and would tell them no matter what. Part of him reasoned that they deserved to know, regardless. But the largest part of him just knew that they would understand. It was this feeling he expressed to Dumbledore: “I really do think they can handle it, sir.”
Dumbledore nodded again and leaned back in his chair. “I agree, Remus. And I think you are right: they deserve to know.”
Remus was surprised by this remark; he had not said anything about this feeling of his. But Dumbledore seemed to know anyway. The headmaster smiled. “Some would consider it unfair of me to ask you to lie to your friends like this. More and more I find myself agreeing with these people. However, I do not think it wise to make a public announcement. Surely not everyone deserves to know?” He raised his bushy grey eyebrows.
Remus took the hint. “Yes, Professor.” There were only a handful of people he would even consider telling.
“Well, it seems that this matter is all settled, then,” Dumbledore said as he rose from his chair. He consulted his watch again. “And if you hurry, you’ll even be able to make it to Herbology in time!”
As he grabbed his bag and headed for the door, Remus stopped. He turned to face Dumbledore. “What if...” he started, but he didn’t need to finish the thought.
“What if they reject you?” Dumbledore’s face remained kind, but there was a sudden gravity in his eyes. “It is possible, Remus. This is a legitimate fear, and unfortunately one that you will have to carry with you for the rest of your life. You must never forget that some people are just prejudiced, and there is nothing in the world that will make them change their minds. But,” he continued, placing a hand on Remus’s shoulder, “I think you and I both know that your friends thankfully do not belong to this group of people. Trust them, Remus.”
“Thank you, sir,” he responded as he turned for the spiral staircase that led out of Dumbledore’s office. “For everything.”
Dumbledore beamed down at him and said nothing in response, just squeezed Remus’s shoulder and released him. Remus shifted his bag on his other shoulder and started down the stairs, feeling infinitely better about life.
***
To Be Continued...
Of Cauldrons and Comrades by LuthAn
Chapter Notes: Hello, hello, dear readers! Welcome to *the* moment, the moment that Remus's secret finally comes out. Well, that will actually be in Part Two, but we're getting quite close now. Sorry again for the extended delay; I've been having a lot of fun entering Challenges over at the Beta Boards! But I'll give you this chapter now with the promise of Part Two following very soon. Thanks, as always, to Nielawen. Happy reading!