Chapter 49: Things Unspoken
Sirius fought against the hands restraining him, shoving them off easily. None of the Marauders could match his strength, and not even Tildy was persistent enough to continue trying to hold on to him for long. The boy was halfway across the pub before an arm was wrapped around his neck and he was pulled back.
Hermione watched with enormous eyes as her boyfriend hauled the taller, far more muscular boy back to their table. Sirius was red-faced and cursing, his fingers digging fruitlessly into Remus's arm, while the other boy appeared to be putting forth absolutely no effort. It should have been impossible for the lean boy to drag his friend around as if he was a ragdoll, and apparently Remus knew it; he offered her a sheepish smile and opened his mouth to explain himself. Before his lips could form around a single vowel or consonant, his face paled, and he snapped his mouth shut again. Instead, he offered only a curt shake of his head in explanation. She could not understand the sadness that overtook his face. It was only there for a moment before he turned toward the door, forcing Sirius along with him.
Offering Harry and Alfie one last glance, she hurried to follow Remus.
"Let me go, you son of a bitch!" Sirius yelled. Remus just kept marching him toward the castle. "Like to see you try this tomorrow, fucking bastard! Moony, you absolute cunt, if you weren't a fucking wer—!" His words ended abruptly in a choking gasp when the hold around his neck tightened sharply.
He rasped out his anger as his nails dug into Remus's arm, clawing at his hand until they drew blood. Throughout the assault, Remus's face was still impassive, but Hermione knew he had been listening, knew he felt the pain of the injuries. She knew what Sirius was about to call his friend, and she knew how someone so thin could throw around a boy with twice his muscle. She knew, but she couldn't say.
"Moony, I think you should give him a little air," James said.
"He's more pleasant when he's unconscious," Remus commented, but let the boy go, stepping back and leaving Sirius to crumple to the snowy path.
"Remus," Tildy said slowly, watching with fascination as her fellow Gryffindor lifted the boy onto his shoulder and continued walking without a grunt or grimace. "How are you so strong?"
It was a fair question.
It was a question Hermione ought to have asked, and Remus knew it; he held her eye for a brief moment before looking to Tildy and offering a slight shrug. "Magic."
The girl scoffed. "Seriously, Remus, he has to weigh at least twelve stone."
"Feels more like fifteen," he said with a wry smile. When she only glared at him, his smile turned innocent and tone playful. "No, really. It's magic."
Hermione heard none of the banter that he shared with the exuberant audiophile. She was gnawing at her lip, analysing the many subtle messages he had sent her in that fleeting glance. There had been worry, certainly, but also an apology and fear. The thing that concerned her most, however, was the suspicion. With that simple, earnest question, Tildy had unintentionally flicked on the light bulb, illuminating Hermione's disinterest in all the things that were odd about him.
She swallowed hard, desperate to push her heart from her throat and back into her chest where it belonged.
'What do I do?' she asked herself as her feet took her in a nervous path around the worn rug before the fire of the common room. 'Do I just tell him I know his secret? He'll want to know how I know. I'll have to tell him our secret, tell him I know him in twenty years. What if he hates me for it? What do I do?'
Before she could come to a decision regarding Remus and their respective secrets, he was standing in front of her. His face gave nothing away, giving her a moment's hope before she remembered that he had been lying about this a lot longer than she had. She wondered for the first time just how long Remus had been a werewolf, when he had been bitten, where he had been bitten. It was unbearable, this ache of not being able to ask, to show that she cared and wanted to be a part of every bit of his life.
"Is Sirius still alive?" she asked, forcing her voice to sound light.
"Barely," he smiled. "James is slapping him into consciousness now to give him a stern talking-to."
Despite the anxiety pulling at her, she could not keep the smile away as she imagined him doing precisely that. "Will it do any good?"
"Doubtful. Sirius is too far gone. He's doomed to live a life of stupidity before dying an early and painful death."
Hermione dropped her gaze as quickly as she could, pain stabbing in her chest. Remus's attempt at humour was far too accurate for her to be able to fake a laugh or keep her face from showing the twinge of loss. Minutes passed with Hermione staring fixedly at her feet. The clock on the mantle chimed a strident alarm, ringing out four times. It would be dark soon. The moon would be rising. Remus needed a means of escaping her company.
She cleared her throat delicately. "I really need to finish that Transfiguration essay. Do you mind if I call it a night?"
"Uh, no, that's fine. I have to… yeah, fine." Remus muttered, avoiding her stare as fiercely as she was avoiding his. He was ushered away by James the moment he descended the stairs, and vanished through the portrait hole without so much as a 'goodbye'.
She stood staring at the spot where he had been standing, still wondering how best to broach the topic of his secret. Perhaps she could catch him while he was transformed. Seeing her boyfriend as a great beast of a werewolf would make it pretty hard for him to lie about it. She batted that idea away, remembering this was not her time and the werewolf had no potion reeling him back. No, this would take some thought.
"Problem?" Lily asked quietly.
"Lies."
"Ah," the girl said with a solemn nod. "Yes, it is getting pretty hard to come up with excuses to leave Remus alone on the full moon."
Hermione spun around, terrified eyes larger than they had ever been. "What?"
"Oh, come on," the girl said with a knowing smile verging on a smirk. "You can't not know. It's obvious to anyone with eyes and half a brain."
"No, I know, but how do you know? Tildy went on and on after the first full moon, talking about Remus always being ill. She wasn't in the least bit suspicious. Not even today when he lifted Sirius. I thought everyone believed…"
"Tildy doesn't suspect anything because she's Tildy. She's one step up from being a Kindergartener. She takes everyone at their word, even when that word is a rubbish excuse like stomach sickness or 'magic'," she shook her head and fell into a chair. "I've known for a while now, since fourth year, I think. I tried easing him into telling me, but he's so afraid of what people will say that he refuses to admit to anything. So I help him lie to the others. It's a lot more believable coming from me than James or Sirius." She shrugged.
Hermione lowered herself into the chair opposite, still staring. Lily was a constant surprise, so much brighter than she had expected, and far more observant. It was wonderful, and she wanted so very much for Harry to have known her. Well, more specifically, she wanted for Harry to have learned from her. He could be as thick as a troll sometimes.
"So you obviously know," Lily observed. "Why not just tell him?"
"Like you said, he's afraid. I don't want to scare him off."
The girl hid her face, but the laughter spilled out between her fingers. "Scare off a werewolf," she giggled.
Hermione couldn't keep the smile off her face. "Well, when you say it like that, it does sound ridiculous."
As her laughter petered out, she asked, "How did you figure it out? I can't imagine the world has become more tolerant of werewolves in twenty years. Did he tell you?"
"No. A teacher set us an essay on identifying werewolves, and I couldn't help noticing how many of the items applied to Remus—well, Professor Lupin at the time," she said quietly. "No one else realised what he was. I really liked Lupin and hated the idea of him being fired, so I kept it secret."
Lily nodded, her brow folding in on itself as she considered the problem. It was a look that often crossed the redhead's face, Hermione found. She was pleased to have that level on consideration and concern applied to her own personal issues and not just the ones that involved the girl's future son. "Well, why not make that essay up again? Pretend Morven offered it as extra credit. He's on such special terms with Harry; Remus would easily believe he would give you further reading if you asked for it."
"That might work," Hermione agreed slowly, worrying her bottom lip as she sat considering the idea. Presenting the notion as research would mean Remus would not suspect she was looking up werewolves strictly to compare the creature to him. It would also remove one secret without approaching the other; she could claim it was the essay that showed her the truth and never have to mention meeting his uglier half beneath a full moon in 1994. "That might work quite well."
Hermione did not wait for Remus to leave the hospital wing before she began borrowing books on werewolves, scattering them around the common room and pretending to read them with keen interest.
When the boy returned from his stay with Madam Pomfrey, he found her curled up on the couch by the fire, nose tucked into one of the thickest books she could find. She looked up and smiled, waving him over to sit beside her but intentionally leaving a book for him to move from the cushion. He picked it up, reading the title as he always did when presented with a new tome. What colour he had fell from his face.
"Seven Signs of the Werewolf?" he asked in a strained, tight voice.
"Hm? Oh, yes, Professor Morven said I could get some extra points if I write a paper on werewolves. There's so much more to learn that what we covered for OWLs. It's fascinating. There's something about coming from a Muggle home that makes the idea of transformations seem just so incredible," she commented, looking up at him with wonder in her eyes. "Feeling better?"
"I was," he muttered.
"Well, sit. I know what will help." She scooted over to press her leg against his and kissed his lips eagerly. He was slow to respond, lips barely moving and hands remaining in his own lap. Hermione urged him on, knowing that he always managed to find some store of energy just for her after the full moon, but today he was decidedly lacklustre in his reaction.
She pulled away. "Are you all right?"
"No, not at all," Remus said, his voice hollow. "I'm going to go get some sleep."
He rose and left without another word or kiss.
When she saw him again at breakfast, he appeared fine. Some colour had returned to his skin, though the bags under his eyes were so dark his eyes looked lost in shadow. Still, he ate with appetite and laughed with his friends. That changed when she came to sit beside him. His smile fell, and she swore he edged away from her on the bench.
"Good morning," she said with false brightness. "Sleep well?"
"Well enough," he said, looking away.
Knowing he wasn't able to see it, she allowed the scowl to consume her face. Did it really just take one book to put that much worry into him? How on earth did he get through Defence lessons on werewolves?
"Remus," she said, forcing her voice light. "I wondered if you would mind checking my essay."
"Which one?" he asked, his suspicions clear.
"My extra credit essay."
"Which one?" he asked again, this time with a hint of a smile.
"Morven's."
The smile fell away. "Uh, no, I'm sure you did fine."
"I want to make sure it's right," she insisted. "Please?"
His eyes closed and Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. "Fine."
"Thank you." She kissed his cheek and dug the parchment from her bag, laying it beside the food he was no longer interested in. "Take your time, I have until Friday."
"Yeah," the boy said dully. He took up the scroll and left.
"He cross with you or something?" James asked. "Normally, he'd make us ill kissing you before leaving."
Hermione shook her head, but she could not be certain. She was starting to think the Chaser's observations might be right. That made three consecutive times Remus had forgone any departing affection, no kiss or promise to see her later. Her heart started beating too fast as she wondered if this idea had been a bad one, if the fear cut so deep in him that even the possibility of her suspecting his condition could have him running away. Surely not. Remus was brave and strong. Something like this could never terrify him into fleeing their relationship. Could it?
Patience, she decided, would be the best path. She would wait for him to come to her. And wait she did, anxiously, for days. It was torture, but she managed. She sat in her usual spot in the common room or in the library reading, or at least pretending to, until he finally sat quietly beside her.
The scroll landed lightly in her lap. "It was perfect, which I'm sure you already knew."
"Can't be too careful," she replied.
"What are you reading now?"
Hermione glanced down at the book she had not managed to read a single word of for the past three days. "Werewolf Wiles: How to Avoid Being Ensnared by the Beast," she read, snorting at the title.
"That does sound a bit daft," he agreed.
"Well, what are you reading, then?" she huffed.
Remus held his book up. "The Time Machine."
Hermione's eyes flew across the cover of his book and up to his face. He was looking back at her, no smirk marring his face, but she was sure she saw triumph in his eyes. She knew how those baby blues sparkled when he was happy, and right now they were positively exploding.
He knew.
He shifted his chair closer so their legs pressed together beneath the table. His smile turned smug as she flushed. She wanted to slap him, but she was too thrilled.
He knew.
And he didn't care.