talking_muses: Write about a time you truly struggled.
He sleeps on the train because he was up the night before -- fretting. Some may call it panicking but Remus Lupin doesn’t panic, not really; he frets. He worries. He sits in his flat, the meagre collection of his possessions packed away for the move to Hogwarts in the morning, and gets lost in his thoughts.
It should be the flat he worries about -- has he forgotten anything; how much will it cost him to abandon his lease (because he can’t keep it; but money is by far overrated and it is hard to miss something that one barely remembers); should he try to tidy up any more before turning it over to the next renter. Those are safe, practical concerns: grounded in the everyday.
Or he should deliberate on whether the allowances Dumbledore has made concerning his... illness will prove safe. The shack he trusts, with the blind stalwart trust of youth, like trusting a mother or an old childhood home; but Wolfsbane is something he’s only read about and never tried. Can it work? Will it truly allow him to keep his mind? Every once in a while he entertains the thought that it might make the transformation more painful, because how he processes pain in one form is completely different than how he processes pain in another - but it is rare that he lets himself think that far. Pain is such a petty, selfish concern when the lives of the entire student body are at stake. Dumbledore has promised him that preventative measures have been taken and he will trust Dumbledore on this, if only because he has no other choice.
These are the things that should plague his mind as he struggles with the choice he made. They should but they don’t. Remus thinks of other things instead.
Harry.
Sirius Black.
Protecting Harry from Sirius.
Dumbledore never said as much directly but Remus knows it was implied. That is why he was chosen, and not someone else, someone better equipped. He isn’t trained professionally: not as a teacher, and not as a Defence master. What he knows he learned from books. And from experience. His life has been blessed with copious amounts of experience in matter of the Dark Arts.
The irony of it isn’t lost of him -- no. There should be a flashing neon sign to hang above his head, blaring IRONIC in loud yellow letters. Teach defence when he is what he is. Protect a boy he never was able to see from a man that had once been his childhood friend. The irony is painful.
But what a petty, selfish concern pain is. He already made the choice and he can’t rescind on it now, however much he may fret about it. Dumbledore requested and he agreed. It’s simple; it’s done. He has a chance to teach -- something he truly loves in this life -- and a chance to see Harry, if only from afar. He should be grateful. And he is; he is completely grateful. Except…
He sits silently as he counts the hours until he must leave for the train station and spirals down into his thoughts, thinking the name Sirius Black over and over in his head until he’s confident he can say it aloud without cringing. He tries to teach himself to separate the memories of Sirius as a boy, in Hogwarts, which will surely be raised by returning, from the facts and ideas about Sirius now -- HAVE YOU SEEN THIS WIZARD? -- so that he won’t trip himself up. He can’t afford to make mistakes, not being what he is, or to whom he is connected. James and Lily still deserve as much after all these years, and so does Harry. Sirius as he knew him is dead; Sirius Black, a stranger with a familiar name, is with whom he needs to concern himself now.
Sirius Black.
Sirius.
Sirius and Harry.
Protect Harry from Sirius Black.
He wonders if he will be capable of doing the right thing.
Muse: Remus J. Lupin
Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: 675