CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
werewolf whims

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REMUS FEELS LOST. HOPELESSLY LOST.

He's been staring up at his bedroom ceiling for a solid fifteen minutes, weaving his fingertips through the tufts of fur along Pip's spine. When he woke up, he took a potion to cure his hangover, though he's yet to procure the energy that'll puppeteer him to get up and actually do something. A brief glance at the clock on his bedside tells him that it's almost noon, the golden light outside the dormitory window dimmed by the thicket of storm clouds that never seem to dissipate. His feelings coruscate inside his chest like an ensnared animal, sparking against the bony confines of his ribcage, which still feels bruised and tender from the previous full moon. He had attempted to tackle the next chapter of his book, Jaws, in order to remedy his self pity, but his eyes glazed over on the third paragraph and he had to put it down before he fell asleep.

Remus wouldn't say that he's angry. If anything, he simply feels confused.

  He doesn't quite understand what went wrong between him and Cove. Of course, he's never really pinned himself as someone that'd actually seek a committed relationship because of his... condition, and he's been fretting over his illness ever since he started seeing Cove in a different light. Part of him is screaming to pluck up the courage to go ahead and ask her out, whilst the other fraction is telling him that her awareness of his 'furry little problem' will only destroy their relationship further, and he doesn't think that he could just fail to mention it. That wouldn't be fair on her.

  He's always felt that she's too good for him, the perfect mix of everything that puts a smile on his face and gives him those awful little butterflies. The doubt eating away at him only seemed to grow more ravenous when she first started to avoid him. She insists that he didn't do anything to contribute to their falling out, but he finds that increasingly hard to believe. Surely there's no reason for her to stop talking to him unless he's offended her — or worse, scared her off.

  He buries his face in his hands. He wishes relationships were as easy as they seem in all the stories that he reads. Maybe then he'd finally have some peace of mind.

  The door creaks open. He looks up to see Peter poking his head around the door, his mousy hair windswept and his round cheeks rosy from the cold. He's alone for once, their other friends absent for their own reasons. Frank is off studying in the library with his girlfriend and James had announced the night before that he'd be busy with quidditch practice until dinner at the latest. Although, when he stops to properly think about it, Remus hasn't seen Sirius since— well, since the party. It always worries him when he's nowhere to be found, since it usually means that he's up to no good.

  Peter lifts an eyebrow. "It's twelve o'clock, Moony. What are you doing in bed?"

  "My only class today is during fifth period," he argues. "I'm having a lie in."

  "You're not having a lie in. You're vegetating. What's the matter?"

   Remus sighs, fiddling with the paperback cover of his book. "Nothing."

  Peter crosses the room, perching on the edge of the bed. The patchwork quilt crinkles where he rests his hands, leaning back to get a better look at his miserable friend. He narrows his eyes and scrutinises Remus closely, looking for the telltale signs of something obvious that's bothering him. It usually doesn't take him too long to figure out what's weighing on Remus' mind but, this time, he can't seem to put his finger on it. Then, a lightbulb flashes on in his head.

  "Is it to do with Cove?"

Remus lifts his head. "How'd you know?"

  Peter shrugs. "Lucky guess. And you've been moping around for ages since she stopped talking to you."

  He sits up in alarm, shifting Pip into the crook of his elbow so that he won't disturb her. She meows in complaint but settles down nonetheless.

   "How do you even know about that?" he hisses, holding onto her like a lifeline.

   "You'd be surprised about how fast things travel at this school. Oh, and it helps that I sit next to her best mate in Ancient Runes."

   Remus groans, closing his eyes in defeat. "Christ, Pete, what am I going to do?"

"I mean, I'm no expert—"

"Oh, here we go."

"—but you could always try talking to her again? That usually seems to do the trick."

"Believe me, I've tried!" Remus defends. "She ran away the last time I managed to get a hold of her. I dunno what I've done and I can't do anything to fix it when she won't even talk to me. Whatever was going on with us is a lost cause."

   Peter purses his lips. "Well, if she says it's not your fault, then it probably isn't. To be honest, Cove doesn't strike me as the lying type."

Beginning to squirm under the pressure of all the eye contact, Remus looks out the window for solace. He's met with the sight of sloping hills and the Whomping Willow, swathed in a glistening mist of golden light. Staring at it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and his stomach twists at the remembrance of his transformations, his fresher wounds beginning to burn beneath the scar tissue. He eventually turns back to Peter, sickened by the understanding in his dark eyes.

   "I want to make things right," Remus says softly, "but I don't know where to start. How do I even approach her after our argument? I was too hard on her. Christ, I hurt her, Pete."

"That was an accident," Peter reassures. "You didn't mean to, and if she's knows you at all, she'll know that much."

He doesn't seem convinced and it's evident in the hesitance etched on his face — in the wrinkle that knits between his eyebrows, in the jittery way his hands cling onto Pip for comfort and in the red scratches that form tributaries across the scrunched bridge of his nose. At a loss, he turns over his hands and looks closely at the crooked lines that crease his palms, marred by scratches to the point that they're barely visible. The heart line, the life line. What does it all truly mean? They fall back into his lap abruptly, disturbing Pip and causing her to leap to the other end of his bed in alarm.

Peter sighs. He stands up, dusts off his jeans and seizes the opportunity to be the one towering over Remus for once. "Look, it sounds to me like you've got two options. Either you wallow here and mope over 'losing' her for hours on end, or you can seek her out and actually do something to resolve your problems. Communication is key, Moony. Even if it goes wrong, at least you can take comfort in knowing you've made an attempt to set things straight. And, this might be a bit harsh, but if you end up doing nothing now, you'll only hate yourself in the future for not trying."

  He pauses to let his words sink in. A cosmos of thought glitters within Remus' head, addled by decisions and judgements that he had been convinced were too soon to act upon. The jigsaw pieces begin to fall into place, his friend's support clearing the fog confounding his awareness.

"Yeah," Remus mutters. He clears his scratchy throat, confidence beginning to bloom. "Yeah," he repeats more firmly. "You're right."

"That's the spirit!"

  Peter pulls him to his feet, grinning. He hands the map over and claps him on the shoulder encouragingly.

  "Go on, Remus. Go find your girlfriend."

  "Piss off, twmffat."

"Carpe diem! You'll thank me later."

Remus swallows thickly. "We'll see about that."

°•.•°•.•°•.•°

  THE CLOSER HE GETS TO COVE'S name on the map, the more his confidence from before begins to sputter out.

  He swerves past the stragglers that walk the corridors, weaving in and out of the thinning crowds until his long legs begin to ache from how quickly he's moving. A downpour has suddenly broken through the clouds, raindrops pattering against the roof tiles and clinging onto the arched windows. He passes a humming portrait of Ignatia Wildsmith, the thick heels of his docs slamming against the cobbled floors as his eyes stay fixed on the parchment in his hand.

When he turns a corner and sees her in the distance, Remus dissolves into what can only be described as a nervous mess.

  Anxiety encloses its maw around his stomach, twisting and gnawing like a blade perforating his skin. His palms begin to sweat, and despite Peter's encouragements ringing in his ears, he begins to doubt himself. What is he going to say? What if he makes a fool out of himself? At the prospect of talking to her, his mouth runs dry and he seriously feels like turning around, going upstairs to Gryffindor Tower and hibernating in his dorm for the foreseeable future.

The closer Remus gets, the more his heightened sense of smell picks up on her ambrosial perfume. He remembers it being a combination of water lily and something else that's sweet from when she had put it on next to him in class a while back. Not in a creepy way. He supposes that he's just observant when it comes to Cove.

  It takes him a few minutes of lurking behind her dodgily before he finally picks up the courage to raise his voice and call after her before she strays too far down the hall.

  "Cove!"

She stops in her tracks, turning to face him with wide eyes. He gets struck by a sudden jolt of déjà vu. Like a deer in the headlights, she stares at him with wide eyes for a few seconds before beginning to make a rapid getaway, pretending that she hadn't seen him in the first place. When she starts to speed walk away, Remus panics and rushes forward, latching onto her arm as gently as he can so as not to hurt her and tugging her into the empty classroom they had wound up next to.

  There are rows of desks with their benches askew from whoever had previously been in the class, a few straggling dust bunnies underneath the stone cold radiators that are dotted along the walls. The lights are switched off but he can see her increasingly clearer as his eyes adjust to the darkness, smatterings of sun managing to wriggle through the moth eaten curtains. The bipolar rain had let up again.

  Instantly, Remus presses his back against the door to act as a barrier between her and escape. Okay, now that he thinks about it, he may be coming off much creepier than he had first intended. He probably should have thought this through more.

"Oi!" she squeals, tripping up over her own two feet. She wrenches her arm out of his grasp. "What was that for?"

"I have to talk to you," Remus insists, "but you keep avoiding me."

  She screws her eyes shut, rubbing at her temples as if to ward off a migraine. "I've already told you that this won't work, Remus. Please, give it a rest. Save yourself the trouble and find someone better for you than I am."

  "What are you trying to say, exactly? How are you not good enough for me? How can you not see that you're perfect, Cove?"

  "I'm not," she insists, shaking her head. "I'm really not."

Remus furrows his brows. "I think you are, at least. Even if you can't see it yourself. Isn't that enough?"

  Her eyes glisten with vulnerability. "All of my friends told me to stay away, you know. For your sake as much as mine."

  "Why?" Remus pleads.

  "I— It's complicated," she mutters. "I don't know if I could explain it. Not now, anyway."

  "Try me."

  Silence is spun between them like thread, pulled taught and on the brink of snapping under the pressure. She shakes her head slightly. He takes a cautionary step forward when she stays quiet, aware of her quickening heartbeat as his own roars in his ears.

   His eyes soften. "It's okay if you don't want to tell me yet. Just give me a chance, Cove. I don't care if it ruins me."

  Her breath hitches. For the first time that afternoon, she casts her eyes up to meet his and keeps them there, her piercing stare unmoving. He tries his hardest not to shift under her scrutiny, giving her time to process. Remus feels that if he says anything before she does, he'll ruin his chances altogether.

  "Okay," she says simply.

  "Okay?"

  She nods. Reaffirming. "Okay. I'll give you a chance."

  There's something strange about her tone when she says that, like she has the urge to say something else but is holding herself back. The cogs turn in her head, her thought process indecipherable. There's method to her madness, but Remus is at a loss for what it could be.

  Nonetheless, he beams, his face beginning to hurt from how wide his grin is getting. Under the spotlight of the poor lighting, Remus could've almost mistaken that she's glowing, cinnamon freckles upon pale skin. Flyaway hairs have loosened from her plait and frame her face wildly, a few entangled in her little dangly starfish earrings. Her beauty is all consuming, even if they're standing in partial darkness, but that doesn't matter to him — in his eyes, she'd have been the brightest thing in the room anyways. There's only a small gap between them, and he realises that he's desperate to close it.

  "Can I, um, kiss you?" Remus asks, almost absentmindedly, adding hurriedly, "or am I getting ahead of myself?"

  She flushes scarlet. "Aye, a bit."

  "So... is that a no?"

Cove rolls her eyes. "Chancer," she mutters, leaning up to pull him down.

  Remus feels like he's just won the lottery. It's almost embarrassing how quickly he melts into her, clinging to her as though she's his anchor amidst a raging gale. Her hands feel impossibly soft interlocked his own and her hair smells so lovely, like coconut with a twang of sea salt. Everything about her in that moment makes his knees feel like they're jelly, and it's a Herculean effort to keep himself upright when she makes him feel so lightheaded.

She pulls away slowly, an impish grin playing on her roseate lips when he chases after her. Betrayal plays on his face when she begins to step away from him, bursting his bubble as the moment fades away. He begins to protest but Cove squeezes his hand, her touch gentle and fleeting.

"I'm late for Potions," she justifies.

"Cove—"

She backs out of the door with an unshakeable smile on her face, laughing at the dumbfounded expression on his face. Her smile is contagious and he finds himself wearing a matching one that never wanes, replaying the moment in his head the entire way back up to his dormitory.

°•.•°•.•°•.•°

THE TREK UP GRYFFINDOR TOWER IS accompanied by a floaty feeling of contentment. He's lost in his own thoughts the entire way up, garnering a few odd looks for the way he moves like he's stuck on autopilot. The warmth radiating from the hearth in the common room hits him and he's greeted by Lily, Mary and Marlene, who are all sprawled out on the plush couches. Mary's eyes follow him as he goes by, narrowed in knowing. Fearing her wrath, Remus acts oblivious and quickens his pace slightly.

  He scales the final staircase, pushing open the door to be met with three of his roommates twiddling their thumbs. Peter's positioned at their shared desk, scratching Pip behind her ear and growing more confused by his Charms homework with every passing second. Standing next to him, James' hair is still wet from his post quidditch shower, his broad shoulders adorned in a Blondie t-shirt that had shrunk in the wash yet he still insists on wearing it. Finally, Sirius is sat sulking by the window, staring out across the school grounds as still as a statue.

  Their heads snap towards him when he comes in. Remus presumes that Peter debriefed them on what was going on, judging from the way he's being ogled at. Though, Sirius doesn't turn away from the window, his back facing the door. It feels almost pointed, purposeful.

  "So?" Peter asks, on the edge of his seat.

  Remus doesn't say anything. He only lets a smile spread across his face, his expression telling a thousand words.

James squeals like a little girl. He starts spinning Peter in circles, showering the room in water droplets from his hair. "Moony's got a girlfriend! Moony's got a girlfriend!"

  "Stop it," he laughs. "She's not my girlfriend. Not officially."

  "Give it a rest, Remus," Peter scoffs. "She totally is."

  He rolls his eyes. "That's her call to make, not mine."

  "Fair play. We're still happy for you, mate."

He shoots them a lopsided smile, though there's something more pressing on his mind. He turns to look at Sirius, who has been suspiciously quiet. The grin he's wearing fades away when he sees the tense expression on his friend's face. "Chin up, Padfoot. Are you feelin' alright?"

"Remus," Sirius says gravely. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

He frowns. "Yeah, what's up?"

  "It's about Cove."

author's note!

they'll never catch a break 😍

and i hope remus didn't come off as pushy or anything like that 😭 i didn't intend for his dialogue to sound that way but i'm scared that's how it came out

this is poorly edited but i'm tired so that's ur whack until the next update xox