— 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟐
In the first two months of your second year, you had pretty much scoured the whole library from top to bottom shelf in an attempt to find something, anything to help with Remus' lycanthropy. You were desperate as his friends, the Marauders — they now called themselves, were very close to discovering your secret. It was only a matter of time before one of them found out, and you needed any kind of remedy — even a mere temporary solution to buy yourselves more time.
"Ugh! There's absolutely nothing in this whole library that would help with lycanthropy." You utter under your breath, plopping your head down on the open book before you, "Remus and I can't keep this going on forever."
"Remus is a werewolf?"
You quickly sat up in surprise to see Peter emerge from behind one of the bookshelves. He shyly smiles at you, slowly approaching your table with a thick textbook of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration in hand.
"Peter!" You look up, your eyes blinking rapidly as you stumbled with your words, "W-What're you doing here?"
He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, and gestured to his textbook, "Studying up on my Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall has me under a close watch after almost failing last year." He nervously chuckles, glancing at the floor.
An awkward silence fell between the two of you, the obvious tension hanging in the air.
Peter finally looks at you, his timid personality replaced with a more serious expression on his face, "Is that why the two of you always leave?"
"I—" You hastily tried to think up a lie.
Peter may be — for the lack of a better word — less knowledgeable, out of his friends, but you knew he was smart enough to know that there was no fooling him.
You looked at him with pleading eyes, "Please don't tell anyone about this. It's extremely important to us that you don't."
"Does Professor Dumbledore know?" Peter whispers, cautiously looking over his shoulder in case anyone overhears your conversation. You pressed your lips into a thin line, and nodded. "I guess that explains things." He lets out a sigh, smiling as he tilts his head to the side in realisation.
"You're not scared of Remus?" You ask, trying to study his reaction.
Peter's eyes go wide, "What? Of course not." He pulls the chair beside you, and takes a seat, watching out towards the rest of the library, "I mean, it's horrible that he has to turn into a werewolf every month, but it doesn't change who he is." Then he softly chuckles, turning to look at you, "If he can transform into a beast, and still worry about not having enough chocolates on his bedside table then he's still Remus—our Remus."
The tension in your shoulders relax, relieved to know he sees Remus the same way you do, "I'm glad. Thank you, Peter. You don't know how much of a relief that is." Giving him a smile that caused him to blush, "But please keep it a secret from the others. We'll... we'll tell them on our own terms when the time comes."
Trying to compose his flustering, he brings up his hand into a salute, "Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me!" And pantomimes to zip his lips, "My lips are sealed."
—
The viewpoint was as if you were in your swan form — shifting and gliding with ease as you examined your surroundings. You stood in the heart of a forest, at the edge of an idle river. The water carried slimy pools of debris from withered leaves, twigs and duckweeds.
Above the mass of water, high branches wove a tunnel of fading green leaves like archways. You studied the tall trees and untamed bushes. The air is rich with the fragrance of leaves and damp. It looked as if it had just rained — the dirt remained wet under you. And then you craned your neck upwards to see an almost full moon, reminding you the dread of another unavoidable day.
The sound of the running water in the river has a relaxing, hypnotic quality, like you were just there and time stood still.
And then you woke up with a start back in your dorm room, sweat beading down your forehead with the smell of earth still vividly lingering in the air.
—
"They're going to know sooner or later, Remus. Maybe... maybe we should tell them." You suggest, nervously fiddling the hem of your sweater you borrowed from Remus.
The two of you were alone inside the boys dorm room, contemplating your next move as the full moon approached only days away. And you had confessed to Remus of what happened between you and Peter the other day in the library.
What you didn't confess was the strange dream you had last night. You couldn't begin to comprehend how the dream was strangely vivid, and how you were able to smell the deep forest as if you were there, when you were sure there were no signs of any kind of plant life in the girls dorm room. You tell yourself it was just a figment of your imagination, and keep shut about it, not wanting to burden Remus any more than you already did.
Remus wasn't mad about what happened with Peter, but he wasn't happy about it either. He cherished what he already had with his friends, he didn't want to taint it by revealing the one thing he was sure would ruin everything.
"Y/N, I—" He starts, frustratingly raking his hand through his hair when his eyes shoot up to look at the door. With the full moon nearing, his heightened senses helped him to hear and recognise the incoming rushed footsteps just outside the dorm room. He breathes out, his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach, "Oh, no."
And then the door bursts open, letting in a furious Sirius, James, and a frightened Peter.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N!" Peter frantically apologises, closely following behind Sirius and James, "I swear it was an accident. It just slipped out!"
"You're a werewolf?" James immediately spat out, his eyes boring into Remus'.
You immediately took hold of Remus' hand and stepped protectively in front of him. James didn't flinch, he stood his ground, watching Remus' pained expression fall onto his face.
Remus thought he had more time, he thought he'd be able to break his lycanthropy to them his way. But he knew deep down that was never going to happen.
And now, the thing he dreaded the most was happening right before his eyes.
Mischief Managed