IV.
He didn't mean to avoid her, but found himself completely involved in his schoolwork, as well as growing more fatigued as the full moon neared. And so he did not see Charity for the rest of the week, and though he knew it might appear as if he was avoiding her and hated to think that she was upset because of it, he couldn't help it: he had too much work and too much on his mind. And the full moon that month was particularly difficult, sapping him of any energy he had left to try and make amends.
He even missed his classes the next day, barely able to get out of bed and stumble like an old man into the next room. He was only thirty-three; how long would it take him to recover in ten or twenty years? Once again he cursed his condition as he sat in his rooms and stared out the window at the Whomping Willow, sipping a draught Poppy had brought him that morning to help him recover.
He wondered once again if Sirius were out there, somewhere on the grounds, sneaking around as a large black dog. He should have told someone, anyone…and yet, revealing Sirius's secret also meant revealing his own, that he had spend three years of his time at Hogwarts running loose around the grounds as a werewolf instead of staying in the Shrieking Shack, built expressly for his transformation. Dumbledore had trusted him as an eleven-year-old and made it possible for him to come to Hogwarts; the headmaster had trusted once again as an adult struggling for work, inviting him to teach. Revealing Sirius's Animagus form meant revealing his betrayal of that trust, and Remus couldn't bring himself to do that.
He also couldn't help but wonder if it really had been Sirius in the castle, or if someone else hadn't just come in through one of the secret passages Remus and his friends had discovered during their time at Hogwarts. And more than anything, he couldn't begin to understand why Sirius would come after Harry. That was what still hurt so much: he knew Sirius had loved James and Lily and especially their son and, and Remus still couldn't fathom why Sirius had betrayed them--all of them--so long ago. What had driven him to the other side when he had once hated everything Voldemort stood for? And how had they all missed it?
Wrapped up in his own dark thoughts, Remus almost missed the knock on his door, until it became an insistent pounding. Standing gingerly, as the transformation sorely taxed his bones and sinew in unnatural ways, he walked slowly toward the door to see who was there. Perhaps Poppy had brought another draught.
He was surprised to see Charity standing in the corridor, and the look on her face almost made him step back: she appeared both angry and concerned, irritated and relieved to see him. He couldn't blame her. He had had barely seen her all week, and she had every right to be upset with him, assuming the worst after what had happened between them on Halloween; yet she had come at the most inconvenient time possible, and he couldn't help but frown even though a part of him was glad to see her.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice weary. She raised an eyebrow--whether at his words or his tone, he wasn't sure--as she held out a goblet for him.
"Poppy had another draught for you. I told her I'd bring it down. Are you going to ask me in?" Her voice was calm but cool--and also determined. He made the mistake of hesitating, and she walked right past him.
"I'm coming in anyway," she said.
"Charity, now is really not a good time," he started to say, but she set down the draught and turned toward him, opened her mouth to obviously retort, and stopped. Her face softened.
"I can see that. You look like hell."
"Thanks. Then maybe another time?"
She walked back to him and took his hand. "No, this time will have to do. I won't stay long. But please sit and drink." She pulled him toward the chair, pushed him down, and handed him the goblet.
"Can I get you anything to eat?" she asked, sitting next to him in the other chair.
He shook his head. "No, I'm don't usually eat until at least dinner, sometimes not even then."
"Was it worse than usual?" she asked softly. "Poppy said you were taking it hard."
"I suppose it was," he said, sitting back with a sigh and sipping at the draught she'd brought him. "I think there's so much else going on that it was much harder this time."
"You mean with the attack last week?" she said.
"And my classes," he added, not wanting to go there.
"And avoiding me?" she asked, raising that eyebrow again. He groaned.
"Charity, I'm sorry, but I really can't--"
She leaned forward and stopped him with a kiss. She tasted sweet, as if she had just come from lunch and had strawberries and cream. He sighed, but she smiled.
"I think I understand now just how hard this is for you, and that maybe it's why you've been avoiding me all week." He opened his mouth to protest, but she waved him off. "Because I know you have, Remus. Don't deny it."
He was quiet for a moment, thinking on how to respond. "I really have been busy and not feeling well, Charity--"
"Both good excuses," she said, nodding thoughtfully. "I've been positively inundated with bad essays on electricity this week and feel a cough coming on. But I've also missed seeing you, and I think that after what happened last week, we need to have a talk about things between us." She paused. "Don't you agree?"
Remus sighed again. "What do you want me to say, Charity? Because I really don't know, not right now. I can hardly think straight."
She looked away before turning toward him with a very serious look on her face. "Then I'll talk. I just want to know that it meant something, that it wasn't a one night thing because of all that had happened that night." When he was silent, she pulled her chair closer and gazed into his face very earnestly. "Remus, I don't want it to be for one night only. I want it to mean something because I…" And here she finally stumbled a bit, the calm confidence gone. "I really like you."
He couldn't look at her, she was gazing at him with hazel eyes so clear and bright. He couldn't hurt her either, but the truth really was that he just didn't know what to say: did he say what he felt with his heart, or what he knew with his mind? So he didn't say anything, any words that came to mind sticking in his throat until something fairly nonsensical finally made it out.
"You really shouldn't, you know," he muttered, still not looking at her.
"I shouldn't what?" she asked. "Like you?" He nodded in response, and sensed rather than saw the faintest hint of a smile on her face. "Well, that's not up to you. I like whomever I please. You should consider yourself lucky. I'm a terrible prat to people I dislike, such as Severus."
Remus couldn't help but snort. "But no one can blame you for that. He's an arsehole."
"He certainly is." She was grinning now. "Remus, I know you were upset last week and maybe what happened that night wasn't the best timing, but it still happened, and I don't regret it, do you?"
He couldn't lie to her: it had been wonderful. He liked her and wanted so badly to have that closeness with someone…and then he realized why he was still sitting there in his sleeping robes, exhausted and pale with his hair likely a bird's nest. He was a werewolf, and he could never put someone he cared about through so much heartache and pain; it was his burden, not hers.
Still, he shook his head, because he did not regret their night together, and he didn't want her to think that he did.
"Good," she said, patting him on the leg. "I'm glad you don't regret it either. I'd feel like a scarlet witch otherwise. Now, what do we do about it?"
Remus finally reached over and took her hands. "Nothing," he said intently. "Charity, look at me. I'm a mess. I'm no one to be with, I'm a --"
"Werewolf," she finished. "I know. But you are only that once a month. Can't I have you the rest of the month?"
He stared at her as if she were insane. "Why would you want such a thing?" he asked
"Because I like you, Remus," she said softly, leaning forward to kiss him once more. "And I think you like me too." He almost groaned, it was so perfect--she was so perfect. Maybe he had finally found someone--someone who really did care, someone who wouldn't abandon him or betray him or hurt him…
"I do like you too," he whispered back, raising his hand to her face. "I think I could even fall in love with you." His eyes widened as he realized what he had said; he sounded like a schoolboy, like James prattling on to Lily in his never-ending attempts to win her over. What was he thinking? Why had he said that?
Yet Charity smiled and leaned forward again and kissed him so soundly that apparently he had not said anything too terribly wrong. He kissed her back, reveling in the simple joy of human contact once more. Then he realized once more what he had said.
"But I don't let myself--" he started, and she put a finger to his lips.
"You should let yourself," she murmured. "Falling in love is a beautiful thing. I think I'd like to try it."
Another long kiss, and he cursed himself for being so weak. He should be pushing her away, telling her no. But he couldn't: it was what he wanted, what he needed. Maybe it could work out, maybe he didn't have to be alone.
When she finally ended the kiss, brushing the hair from his face in such a tender way he shivered at her touch, he wished he had the energy for more. Yet it was obvious he did not, not then, and she knew it. She stood and gazed down at him fondly. "I'm glad that's settled then. Can I bring you dinner here in your chambers?"
He stood to walk her to the door. "I'd like that. Thank you."
"You're welcome." She paused at the threshold and took his hand. "It's going to be all right, you know--you, me, us, even Sirius."
"I don't know that," Remus replied honestly. "But I'll try to believe you." He squeezed her hand in reassurance, because he would try: this time he would try.
"You should believe me," she said, eyes twinkling. "Mostly because I'm right. But also because you don't have to push away every chance at a normal life that comes by. You deserve to be happy, Remus." She gave him one last kiss, right there on the threshold, before she turned to leave.
As she walked away, he wondered how she had seen so clearly to the heart of the matter: yes, he wanted that normal life…but he would never feel like he deserved it.
Especially with Sirius Black running free.
* * *