Complex Languages

3 - The Language of Differences

Mrs. Jones, always lenient with him, called as the students filed out of the classroom, "Remus, take all of the time that you need; just don't forget to make up those assignments that you didn't do from when you were out sick again." No one ever mixed them up anymore. They were too different. For starters, Remus dedicated such a vast amount of time to reading in the library for both pleasure and missed work that his skin was much paler from lack of time in the sunshine.

"I'll get it all done by Thursday," he promised, closing the learning facility's door. From Faith and John being so over-protective of him for years, eight-year old Remus was very cautious. He did not want anyone to suspect that there was aught abnormal about him, thus he rarely spoke to people outside of his household unless it was absolutely necessary. When he did converse he was polite, though he never divulged personal information.

"You can copy my homework if you want," offered Romulous. Quite the opposite of Remus, from the decline of parental coddling he became very outgoing and made many friends to compensate for his loss. In spite of their growing differences, Romulous would invariably ignore his comrades if Remus needed him.

His brother's answers were undoubtedly accurate, and he had a huge amount of studying to do..."Thanks, Rom, but I'd rather learn it myself." They did not refer to one another as 'Remmy' and 'Rommy' anymore. They were too grown up for that, or so they told themselves. Remus shifted the stack of books he was carrying to his other arm. They were heavy, yet mercifully the stroll from school to home was not a long one.

Romulous knew better than to offer to assist with the haul; if Faith and John were there they would insist that it was 'too much' for Remus. Romulous never wished for his twin to believe that he concurred with them because he, in fact, did not agree. "Knew you would say that. Just lettin' you know that if it gets to be too much." He shrugged.

Remus smiled. "I know."

"Hey, look." Romulous gestured to a large vehicle brimming with furniture and cardboard boxes. People were heaving them out the van and into the new house that had been constructed across the road from the Lupins'. It was a small, quiet and respectable town. As a result, it was unsurprising that several neaighbours were craning their necks out of their windows to witness the entrance of new inhabitants. "There's definitely a married couple." The flower-printed comforter for the king-sized bed could not have signified anything else. The carpets, he observed, were rather expensive. "Probably no pets."

"That family has a daughter."

"How can you tell?"

"You see that girl?"

"The one coming toward us?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Hi, I'm Sapphire." A girl their own age in a colourful gown held out a slim-fingered hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. We're Remus and Romulous," they introduced themselves in unison. Old habits died hard.

"Are you positive you're name is Sapphire?"

She stared at Remus curiously. "Well, I haven't actually seen my birth certificate if that's what you mean."

He nodded his head at the book on the top his stack. "You look a lot like the lady on the cover." He stated it more as a fact than a compliment. Sapphire and Romulous both gazed at the title: Classic Faery Tales. "The long blonde hair, the dark blue eyes, and the rosy lips. Her name is Rapunzal. I don't like that story much because the witch that locks her in the tower is evil. Different kinds of people, like witches, should be shown in a dark and bright light, not just one. Some things are given a purely bad reputation-" Suddenly, Remus stopped talking and his face flushed. He was unaccustomed to saying multiple sentences to a stranger, especially not about his opinion.

"You think I look like a fairy tale princess?" Sapphire's smile only made him blush more deeply. All girls were romantic no matter what their age.

Romulous grasped the elbow of his speechless brother and propelled him in the direction of their cottage. "We've gotta get home, but we'll see you in school tomorrow."

"Okay," she shouted after them, "I agree with you about the bad rep thing."

Once inside, he waited for Remus to put down his novels before picking up a paperback one and smacking him lightly over the head with it. "What'd you say that for? You know girls have cooties."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Neither of us thinks that people of the opposite gender have weird germs."

"True enough, but the other kids do. When they hear about this they'll sing the 'boy and girl sittin' in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g' song."

"What song?"

"Were you conscious on the playground at the park during recess today?"

"Naturally."

"And you didn't hear 'em singing?"

"No. I read a great story about a short bloke that would take a queen's baby if she couldn't guess his name. It turned out to be Rumpelstiltskin of all things! Does that count?"

Romulous sighed. "I just don't wanna see you get teased. People already think you're odd."

"Rumours usually aren't true. I'm more of a freak than people give me credit for." If Remus possessed cynicism he would have laughed bitterly, though he was too young to have acquired any.

"Rem, you're not -"

"Not to you," Remus softly cut him off, anticipating this statement, "but to most I would be if they knew. Our kind of folk doesn't even believe in the monsters."

"My kind."

"What?"

"Mine, not yours."

"I don't know what you -"

"You're magical. I'm not." In a Muggle-wizard relationship the child almost always inherited the knack for witchcraft. Romulous and Remus were twins, and when the egg split the cell containing magical ability only remained in Remus' egg. This was particularly peculiar since they were identical in nearly every other aspect.

"Am not." Remus retrieved the collection of anecdotes he had been perusing earlier, wishing he had thought to put a bookmark in it so he would know where he was within the text. Without warning, the spine fell open and pages blew in an unexplainable wind until a specific page was revealed.

"Nope, no powers at all." intoned Romulous sarcastically.

Remus was gaping. "I - I didn't meant to."

"Of course you didn't." Faith came over and embraced both of her sons. "Your father says it's rare for anyone to control his or her magic without training."

"So, I'll never control it." Remus' voice was more resigned than resentful. John had regrettably informed him that wizarding academies did not enroll werewolves.

"Well, John can teach you enough so that you never accidentally blow anyone up."

Romulous nudged Remus in the ribs gently when he viewed his forehead creasing with worry. "Hey, relax. It'll be good if you can do that to a teacher on test day." Remus' face could not decide if it ought to don a horrified or an amused expression, and it was quite funny to watch. "Anyway, after we do our work d'you wanna go see Jacob's new treehouse?"

"That doesn't sound safe," interjected Faith ere Remus had the opportunity to reply.

"But, Mum, Jake's one of my mates, and he worked hard on this. I can't not take a look at it," Romulous implored.

"All right," she relented. "Remus, you can help me make dinner in the kitchen while Romulous goes." She headed over to the refrigerator to take out ingredients.

The boys' eyes met and they sighed in defeat. Who ought to have been more offended? The one whose well-being was seemingly less cared about, or the one that was treated as if he was too fragile to handle anything?

Minerva's Note: Not to sound unlike the optimistic individual that I am, but lately my family completely ignores me unless they're in the mood to take their anger out on someone (not physically; don't worry, I'm safe!), and I have over 300 reads and only a couple of reviews, so PLEASE review so that I know someone cares!