Title: Remus Lupin Knows All, Part One: Regretted Nostalgia
Author: Liliths_Requiem
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Remus Lupin, Molly Prewett, Bellatrix Black
Pairings: Bellatrix Black/Molly Prewett
Era: First War
Word Count: 1213
Prompt: 100quills: 33. Transparency



“Molly?” she wakes to the desperate calling of her eldest brother’s voice and jumps out of bed. She’s always been quite happy that Arthur is such a heavy sleeper; if he wasn’t, she’d be constantly waking him up at odd hours of the night because of her readiness to help the Order whenever possible. They haven’t joined, and Molly doubts they will until the boys are older. Arthur says he’s afraid of leaving his sons without a father. While Molly agrees with this logic, she knows this isn’t the case. She isn’t sure she could kill certain people on the other side, given the chance, and she’s not about to join the Cause if she can’t do so without hesitating. She’s a Gryffindor, after all, she’s not about to do anything half-arsed.

She can make out three bodies as she stumbles down the steps, two standing upright with the third being suspended in mid-air between them. The two standing are her brothers, and she can’t help but let out a sigh of relief upon finding that out. The third she doesn’t recognize until she’s staring him square in the face. “Remus Lupin? How the hell did the Lupin boy end up mixed up in all this? Isn’t he a bit young?” She asks this question as she’s pulling her wand out of her robes and has him lying on the couch before either twin has the chance to answer.

“They’re all kids, Molls,” Fabian explains, the worry evident in his voice as he looks down at the misshapen shape of his fallen comrade. The boy looks so pale, paler than Molly ever remembers him being, and she isn’t sure which spell to try first. Instinct chooses one among the thousands rushing through her head, and as soon as she starts she can’t seem to stop. Words and wand movements create a frenzied cacophony as they move together. The twins are gone by the time she turns away, “Probably returned to the bloodbath,” she mutters, under her breath, as she takes a seat on the large recliner and waits for Bill’s cries to signal that morning has arrived.

But it isn’t Bill that wakes her up hours later. Instead, she watches as Lupin recovers with speed unheard of, even in the magical world. She’s half-afraid to touch him as he groans in pain, but she knows he’s most likely desperate for water and the knowledge that someone is there with him. She brings him a cool glass of water she’s just gotten from the well and holds his hand as he opens his eyes. “Mrs. Weasley?” he asks, as if she were old enough to be his mother, when really only nine years separates the two of them. “How’d I get here?”

She hands him the water silently and hopes that the memories from hours before come back to him, as she doesn’t know half of what he most likely wants her to explain. Calmly, she watches as recognition sparks in his eyes. The glass shatters in his hand, drawing blood, as he spits out the two words she was praying she’d never hear again. “Bellatrix Lestrange.”

She doesn’t allow any sign of fear, anger, or nostalgia to show. There is no muscle spasm, no sharp intake of breath. She is completely calm as she dabs his forehead with the cool cloth and distracts him by talking about Bill’s drawing, the one hanging over the fireplace at present. She’ll talk about anything, absolutely anything he wants, as long as he doesn’t bring her up again. But he’s adamant, more so then she’s ever remembered a Gryffindor capable of being, and so when he turns the discussion back to the murdering psychopath she’s afraid of admitting to still being in love with, she’s pretty sure he’s been planning the redirection in conversation the entire time.

“You went to school with her, didn’t you? Sirius used to say you two were in the same year,” he says, taking a sip of the tea she brought him a few minutes ago. “Has she always been insane?”

Molly shrugs, not entirely sure how to answer the question and hoping against hope that Bill or Charlie decide to wake up now, so that she can end this conversation with some dignity. Her pleas are answered with silence and she knows she has to answer or risk the onslaught of more questions. “No,” which is the truth, really. Bella was not always a sociopath, despite her sisters’ claims to the contrary. Narcissa and Andromeda both steadfastly believe that their older sister was completely insane the night she was born, but Molly knows this isn’t true. Bella was once as normal as any of them could claim to be, and as she was a lesbian married to a man, Andromeda had forsaken the Black name for a muggleborn, and Narcissa had given up on fairy tales to be molded in to the perfect society wife no one thought she could ever be, Molly’s pretty sure she’s safe in saying that, as none of them were really normal to begin with. “She was once very controlled in her obsessions. Although,” and it’s still hard to admit this out loud, but she’ll do it if it means not having to answer anything else, “She’s always been in love with the Dark Arts.” The only thing she’s ever loved more than me, she adds mentally, the thought stabbing into her heart and bringing life back into old wounds that will never scar.

Remus nods, then grimaces in pain and allows his head to fall back against the pillow. “She reminds me of Sirius sometimes,” he confides, closing his eyes and smiling as Molly moves the warm cloth onto his bloodied arm. “They’re both so wild. Neither of them is willing to compromise. I wonder if either of them realizes just how alike they are.”

Molly nods her head and says, without realizing she’s speaking aloud until after the words are stumbling out of her mouth, “Bella did. She used to say Sirius was going to follow in her foot steps and make something of himself. She swore he wasn’t going to be like Malfoy or the Lestrange Boys or Rosier. He was going to find his own way and bring honor to the Black family…” she pauses and looks Remus in the eyes, “It’s nice to know he’s doing so, even if she isn’t.” The lock eyes and he holds her there for a moment, looking at her in a way she hasn’t been looked at since Bella walked away from her at the train station the day after their graduation. He can see something she’s sure she doesn’t want him to see, and so she tears her eyes from his with physical effort.

Bill starts crying a few minutes later and she tries not to run away as she leaves the room. Hours later, when Sirius shows up to bring Remus home, she tries not to make it obvious that she’s avoiding Lupin’s stare. “You know,” he tells her, after telling Sirius to wait outside, probably for her comfort, “It’s okay to admit you’re still in love with her.” Molly meets his eyes and blushes; she wonders if she’s always been that transparent.