Wild Amenity » Remus Lupin

20. Destiny's hands are full of s***

Friday, 15th October 1976. 8 days after the full moon.

Remus wasn't sure how his study group had started, but he knew it was something he was not going to give up. The meetings weren't formal at all, just a bunch of kids sitting on different spots in the castle to do their homework and study for the upcoming exams, all with the help of Remus himself. He didn't think he was qualified enough to guide the studies of others, but people kept coming to him for help, and it wasn't in him to say no to that.

The first time a little kid approached him, a Gryffindor boy in his second year then, Remus had been doing a Transfiguration essay in the common room, and practising a spell to make sure he was writing the correct things. The kid touched his shoulder shyly, and told him he was having trouble with the softening charm, and that Professor McGonagall scared him. Remus had laughed then, and explained to him how to cast it properly, assuring him that Minnie would not turn him into a button, no matter how much she threatened to do so. He knew this, because he had believed that too when it was him who couldn't perform certain spells.

A year had passed since then, and the kid had lost every bit of caution he had. He'd wave at Remus every morning, and join him to study whenever they happened to be in the same room. It warmed Remus's heart, really, to feel that useful.

But kids talked, and word that he was a cool teenager helping people with their homework spread around quite fast. Soon enough, Remus would be sitting in the library with a bunch of people surrounding him, and he would be explaining to them the causes and consequences of the goblin rebellions, or the main purposes of defensive magic. And so, he turned into the unpaid teacher of students at Hogwarts.

There was no schedule or announcement, but everyone knew when the periods of school-crisis arrived. It was then that Remus was busy, not only with his pranking and sulking around, but with doing something that helped—others and himself, who put the energy spent on overthinking into a project that mattered more than his feelings.

That afternoon, Remus was joined by a couple of third year kids who were trying to write an essay about the life cycle of Grindylows. It wasn't a hard task, but they seemed curious to learn more about those water demons that lurched the bottom of the lakes in Britain. Remus told them everything he knew, their eagerness clear in their eyes. They sure were provided with more than enough information for their homework.

While the kids happily drew the creature in their parchments, Remus returned to his own essay, but he was having trouble focusing. The little giggles and chatting seemed way more interesting, so he allowed himself that small moment of joy.

Suddenly, the smell of flowers invaded the room, and Remus's focus shifted.

"Jo." A voice called, making the kid next to Remus turn. Jonah Wells didn't lift his quill as he eyed his sister, Sage, who had just entered the library and her perfume was distracting Remus. "Mum sent a letter today. Cousin Daisy is celebrating her birthday right before Christmas. Would you like to go?"

"Sure," Jonah said, adding some details to his drawing. "Will Aiden be there?"

"It's probable."

Jonah hummed. "Can you tell mum I'm coming? I'll pretend I'm sick or something afterwards."

"And what? Will you catch a cold?"

"I was thinking of something like warts, actually."

There was something so ridiculously funny and innocent about Jonah's response that Remus just couldn't help laughing. It reminded him of himself and his friends from the time they were his age.

"Oh, sorry," he said in between giggles once he noticed both Jonah and Sage were staring at him. "Didn't mean to listen."

The little boy giggled, too, and looked up to his sister, covering his mouth, but quite proud.