Forsaken

Nine
In which there is quasi intelligent conversation.

It became a ritual for them to wait for me by the tree. They were waiting for me in February and they would wait for me every moon. Until only one did... But that's later. If nothing else we got closer together after that night. It was as if we now had a stronger glue to hold us together. We were the Marauders, and we were made of better stuff than everyone else.

I was initially moody and paranoid of their intents, but then I remembered who they were. My friends. They didn't pity me, at least not when I was near. I suspect that they talked about when I was gone (confirmed to a degree) but not to my face. I think, especially in the beginning, I would have broken down if they had.

I could probably account most of the pranks we pulled and most of the pranks they shot back at us. There's no reason to, though. Snivellus was our favourite target still. Well, that's to be expected, really. He wasn't liked much by the other Slytherins, he was, even at twelve, a greasy prick. But we weren't too exclusive, as James liked to say, and we shared our attentions with every Slytherin in our year equally.

Spring came as it's prone to do and Quidditch started up again. We were determined to beat the Slytherins that year. We could do it, too. So James and Sirius and the rest of the team practiced insanely. Whenever another team wasn't using the pitch then they were there. They were the only two Second Years on the team, and there were no First Years. But they loved it and they were as good as the others. Sirius was fast, perfectly suited to his Chaser position and James seemed to be the model Seeker, just as Patrick had said he would be.

Spring meant finals as well. I was well suited for the exams, I knew I would do well, but I studied anyway. I started to read James' and Sirius' notes, but then I realised that there was very little logic to the way that they took notes. Peter's notes were mediocre, but he always read everyone else's. Since James and Sirius were always practicing, I went over the year's material with Peter, helping him to remember what we had done over the year – just as I had done the year previous.

I still hadn't fully adjusted to my roommates' knowledge of my condition. I grew paranoid of them. I think they expected me to open up more to them, since I no longer had to hide myself, but I didn't.

‘No practice today,' Sirius groaned as he slouched in his desk-chair. 'Bloody rain.' I looked over to him. I hadn't asked him. 'Jim is off with Pete. Bloody exams.'

'You could study, Sirius,' I suggested, dryly.

He shrugged his shoulders dismissively.

I was lying on my bed, reading over my astronomy notes, and I felt the bed sink. 'C'mon, Remy. I'm bored! It's Friday night, stop studying.' I glared at him. 'We could maraud?' he suggested.

'I'm studying, Sirius. Leave me be.'

'You don't need to study, you'll pass. You always pass,' he commented, 'you needn't worry. You're a genius, a bloody genius!' He leaned forward, blocking my light and I swatted him away, 'oi! Remy!'

'You're in my light, Sirius. Bugger off.'

'I'm hurt, wounded mortally,' he feigned hurt but didn't move. He stayed, silent, and I went back to my studying. 'It's because of your lycanthropy, that they left you, right?'

'What?'

'Your parents, they gave you away.'

'Yeah, to my uncle.'

'Who abused you.'

'Yeah.'

'I'm sorry.'

'Sirius. I don't want your—'

'“Pity”, I know,' he sat more comfortably, leaning against my pillows, right next to me. 'I complain about the Blacks. I continuously whine about them. But you... you have it so much worse.'

'I have Quin, Sirius, besides, suffering is relevant. I didn't want to share. My pain is my pain, I can live with it.'

'You shouldn't have to,' he said. 'Don't lock it up, Remy, don't lock your pain inside of you.' He stopped, looked at me. 'Remy, we're friends, right? I mean, we've gotten closer this year, gotten to know each other.'

'Yeah, we're friends,' I replied, uncertain of where he was going.

'And you can trust me. No, don't say anything. I'm telling you that you can trust me – always,' he declared, 'and it hurts me when you're hurting, because we're friends. So,' he concluded, 'you need to tell me when you're hurting and I will try to make it better. Okay?'

I just looked at him and blinked.

'Remus,' he prompted. 'Promise me.'

'Okay, I promise.

'Good,' he grinned again and I went back to my papers thinking, falsely, that he was done. 'Remus, you're different that Jim and Pete.'

'I would hope so.'

'No – I mean. I can talk to you and you listen. Not that they don't listen, but you're different. When you're not mooning about, you're really, I don't know, you're so much more confident than the rest of us. You know?'

'What are you babbling on about? Confident ?' I questioned. 'And I do not moon!'

'You do, too,' he addressed the second statement but not the first. 'All the time. You're so moony sometimes it's absurd.'

'Moony?'

'Yeah, moony.'

I just laughed. I was still uncertain of what he wanted. Maybe he wanted something to do whilst James was gone or maybe he really did enjoy my company and all the excitement it provides. Or whatever. The point was, he was there, questioning me and making me laugh. It felt good to laugh and I found myself doing so more and more around the Marauders, especially Sirius.

'Moony, moony, moony!' he laughed, bending forward to catch himself.

Of course the other two chose that moment to come back, and they saw the two of us laughing, Sirius doing so hysterically. They shared a strange look:

'Did we miss something?' James asked Peter who shrugged. They got closer to us.

'Remus is moony,' Sirius laughed.

'Sirius!' I protested, trying to get him to calm down (as usual, to no avail).

'He's who?'

'He moons about all the time – he's moony.'

'Moon...' Peter began, 'werewolf?'

'A double meaning then,' James considered. He pulled his wand out of his robe pocket and grinned maliciously. He leaned over me, taping his wand against either shoulder in the mockery of a knighting ceremony. 'I hereby name thee Sir Moony of Gryffindor Tower.'

Sirius patted me on the back, by now he was unable to speak. Peter, too, was doubled over in laughter. I rolled my eyes and James simply shrugged. So much for studying.

The name, however, stuck. Moony. Whether or not I liked it, it became mine, signifying their acceptance of me and who I am. Moony, to me, became a persona of his own, someone of my Hogwarts years. Now I am Remus J. Lupin, the werewolf in the hidden cottage. But then, then I was Moony. Just Moony. A simple name that meant so much to me. It does mean so much to me. Moony represents a time that I loved and that I can never regain.

Moony is who I was before I locked myself away. Moony is someone that I want to meet again though I doubt I will. Only he can reawaken him, though I know that's impossible...