BLUE HAWAII

♡

aren't always particularly eventful, however they always consist of bones needing to be cracked, but the fear of splitting apart scabs stops Remus Lupin from moving his limbs around in circular motions to make the bones click. They normally also feature a slow trudge from Gryffindor tower to the Great Hall, where he plants himself at his house's table and makes himself eat a good breakfast.

By 'good breakfast' he means the sort that his mum makes on Sunday mornings. Ones with black pudding and fried eggs, the kind that's a plateful and a nightmare to wolf — ha — down before lessons start, but it's the right thing to do, surely? Full moons are terrible, from sunset to dawn. He's under the impression that a hearty breakfast is the right thing to refuel, once the sunshine has pushed away the moonlight.

Yesterday wasn't a full moon, but he still feels the need to eat something with a little more protein and all of those nutrient things his dad goes on about. The scabs to deep scratches are still making it impossible to contort and stretch and make his bones click. Sometimes a full moon is a little worse than other times, but this one wasn't just oh, someone staggered out from The Hog's Head and towards the Shrieking Shack, was close enough for Remus to become aware of it, and the only way to stop him from going after him was for his friends to trick him into hurting himself, to distract him whilst a kind rat turned into a panicked teenaged boy and pulled the drunk wizard to safety.

This one began with one exam last. He could almost taste the ice-lollies that the summer holidays brought, as he made his way to the Shrieking Shack. This full moon wasn't meant to be out of the ordinary — but, then they're never planned to be different, are they?

The full moon two nights ago began feeling hopeful, starting a little later than usual due to the nature of summertime, and it ended fine, he thought, until he returned to his senses and his friends told him that, "You managed to escape last night... We lost you for a little while, but nothing could've happened, don't worry, Moony..."

And then a girl in his year was found dead. "Emily Murphy's passed away..." From a werewolf attack.

The way his stomach dropped to the depths of the earth, the way his stomach twisted into knots and his heart stopped. It was him. Surely it was him. No other werewolves are near, Dumbledore's made that incredibly clear over the years. If a werewolf was responsible for the deaths, then it must have been him.

His friends are convinced otherwise. They're sewing stories about other werewolves living out in the woods, the packs where the children don't have a wizard form. For years Dumbledore's mentioned that, but it's always felt weird to Remus, the way it's been dropped into conversations. As if these other werewolves — these werewolves he's never acquainted, which surely, he would have done over the years — only appear when something gruesome has happened. As if they're just lies presented to cover up for him, the one that must've done this.

Remus tries to eat his breakfast. Eventually he gets some toast down his throat, but he feels sick still. At one point he tried to eat black pudding, but he remembered that it was mostly blood, and then his brain jumped to what Dumbledore had said last night at the urgent assembly, where he announced that Emily Murphy had been found dead. Prongs took the black pudding off his plate and ate it instead.

Padfoot plants himself on part of the bench next to Remus, grabbing one of the slices of toast immediately to butter. He glances over at the Slytherin table for the second time that day, which for Padfoot, is completely out of the ordinary. The entire world feels like it is in shambles. Everything feels different now, ever since Dumbledore announced Emily Murphy's death, ever since Remus started seeing himself as a true monster. He's not just a werewolf once a month — he's murdered someone. No, not murder. Murder makes him sound humanlike. Kill implies a monster was at fault, and that's what happened. A monster was at fault. He was at fault.

Merlin, Briar thinks. Her dad isn't a monster...?

"So I just spoke to her."

The girl in question is Laurel Crouch, which for Remus, makes things worse. Laurel's known his best friend Padfoot for longer than he or the other two marauders have. Remus thinks that they're the sort of childhood friends that feel like siblings, or maybe cousins. They don't talk often. Normally Laurel's hidden away in the library, or at her own common room. Or maybe even her dorm room, you know, the one she shared with Emily Murphy.

That's the reason why bringing up Laurel makes everything worse for Remus. She knew Emily Murphy. Remus can't pinpoint a time where he had any sort of conversation with Emily, or even just asking if they had homework whilst waiting to be let into a classroom. But Laurel knew her.

"She wants to know what happened," says Padfoot, biting into his toast. Remus can feel his stomach drop. Someone's going to find out eventually. Someone was bound to be close enough to Emily Murphy to ask what actually happened to her, why she was dead. Really, Remus isn't clear as to why she was in the forest, but he knows why she's dead. Because he got loose during the full moon and killed her. Mauled, that's what the newspapers are saying. That sounds even worse... He didn't kill her, he mauled her. That's more appropriate. Kill still has connotations of a human hurting another human, and that wasn't what happened. A monster mauled a human. He mauled her.

Prongs contorts his face, thinking. "Well, what's she going to find out?" he says. He reaches across the table and nudges Remus' forearm, trying to assure him. "You obviously didn't do it. Come on, Moony."

Wormtail nods. "Sure, we lost you," he says. Begins. He pauses as both Padfoot and Prongs look at him, frowning, warning. Don't make him believe the truth. "But we didn't lose you for that long. From what people are saying, she was found with cuts all over. You couldn't have done that in the few minutes we lost you."

Prongs nods in agreement, pointing his fork at Remus. He's eating with his mouth open, which is normally a sign that he's thinking about other things, and can't remember to also chew with his mouth closed. "It wouldn't have been you, anyway," he says. "You wouldn't hurt anyone, even if you were a little furrier."

"Nice way to put it," says Remus, rolling his eyes.

"You wouldn't!" says Prongs. "You're too nice."

"Not when I'm like that," says Remus.

"You still didn't kill anyone, though," says Sirius. "Moony, for fuck's sakes, you stepped on a ladybird the other day and apologised to it. Fucking hell, you didn't kill someone."

"But how do you know—?"

"Because you wouldn't hurt a fly!" says Wormtail. He throws his hands up, and he's starting to look exasperated. A frown still sits on Remus' face, because he's still incredibly unconvinced. Emily Murphy is dead. Because of him.

The morning goes terribly. Every lesson consists of Remus sitting at his desk, next to one of his friends, with a frown on his face and his hand holding his head up. He begins to think that his face is going to be a frown for the rest of his life, because not only has he mauled someone, but no one thinks it was him. He wishes that he'd get punished for it. He wants to say sorry to her family before going to Azkaban. He wants someone to call him a piece of shit for being a werewolf, because he is. He's a piece of shit. A killer. A monster.

The lesson before lunch is History of Magic, which Gryffindor has with Ravenclaw. The marauders have had the back of the classroom claimed since first year, so it's easy for them to zone out and mess about without getting spotted. It's also a couple rows behind where Lily Evans and her friends sit, which for Prongs, is handy, because it means he can spend the lesson gazing dreamily at her.

Remus looks at the front of the classroom, where Laurel Crouch and her friends are. He feels sick to his stomach. Padfoot kept on going on about confused she was about the whole thing, and Remus knows that it's his fault. Two days ago, she was beaming proudly and saying how happy she was with her exams, and now, she doesn't even look like she's enjoying school. Laurel Crouch isn't enjoying learning. Remus has broken her. Killed her, too.

When the lesson ends, he can't help it. He gathers his books as quickly as possible, manically shoving them into his bag as Laurel walks past, and out of the classroom.

"Moony, what—?"

But he's already out and in the hallway, brushing past the other students making their way towards the Great Hall to grab sandwiches, and to have a picnic outside with their friends. Remus catches up to Laurel as she goes to walk outside, one of her friends shouting over at her, promising to grab some cheese sandwiches for her. He tries his best to smile at her, but he's out of breath, and he feels like shit, so.

"Uh, hi," he says.

"Hello," says Laurel. She glances at him, and frowns. "Has Sirius done something?"

"No," says Remus. But it makes sense, considering every time they've spoken before, it was because Padfoot wanted to prove something could be possible with the rest spells, and questioned Laurel in hopes her answer would make his argument superior. The last time that had happened, it was a couple months ago, and Padfoot had told her to prove that no one would go near the Whomping Willow, especially at night. And, before that, it had been one year before, when Padfoot had asked her if making a map of the school would be possible.

"You just looked a little quiet in History," he says. Is he lying? He did notice that she was acting differently in the lesson, and even now, she looks a little quieter, he supposes. Less energetic. He knows why she's less bouncy and happy as she normally is, but it isn't just because she was quiet in a lesson. Her friend died. Because of him. And he feels guilty. He hates the idea that he made someone upset. "I just wondered—"

"I don't understand what she was doing there," says Laurel. She takes a seat at a log someone must've moved to nicely face the lake. Her brows are furrowed, and Remus hesitates for a minute, before he sits down next to her. "Why was she in the forest? Why the fuck would she be in the forest, or anywhere near for a werewolf to find her? I don't get it."

Remus tries to think of something reassuring, tries to remember everything he's heard from his friends over the past few hours, but nothing seems to fit. So instead he nods. "It's strange, yeah," he says.

"I just wish that someone knew what happened, and why," she says. Remus is tempted to spurt out everything he knows, and apologise until his tongue falls out. The guilt gnawing at his stomach is too much. He didn't just hurt one person. Death never hurts just one person. Death affects everyone that's ever known the person. He's hurt so many people. Emily Murphy's parents might only have one child, and look, he fucking mauled her. What are they going to do? What if this breaks their marriage, what if they do have other children, and they're so fucking upset, because their sister is dead. What if she has a sibling that's young enough to still be at home this time of year, and they don't understand death yet, and they don't understand why their parents are crying their eyes out, or why their big sister won't be coming back?

Even just Laurel. He barely knows her but he knows that she's upset. Because of him. He's done this.

"Maybe the teachers will find out—"

Laurel shakes her head. "They've already shoved it under the rug," she says. She looks at him, and a look of disgust is plastered across her face. "By the way they're acting, it's as if the monster is a fucking student... But they wouldn't bother finding out, anyway, would they?" Remus shrugs. He tries to relax, because he knows for certain he froze when she said as if the monster is a fucking student. Thank fuck she had looked away by that point. "They're too busy with students becoming Death Eaters... Fucking hell, surely it isn't that difficult to find out what happened to Emily, surely there's some sort of chain of events that—"

She stops. He frowns. For a minute she's deadly silent, her eyes narrow as she frowns at a patch of sandy grass in front of them, the only noise coming from the third years messing about nearer to the lake water.

"It wouldn't be rocket science to find out what happened to her," says Laurel. She turns to him. Her eyes go from narrowed, with furrowed brows above, to bright, like a light bulb is sitting above her head. There's a strange twinkle in her eyes. "She fell out with her friends a while back but they might know something — and I'm sure she kept every letter she ever received..."

"Laurel—"

She puts her hands on his. She looks excited.

"I know what to do," she tells him. "I can figure this out, I can figure out why!"

Remus isn't sure what to do, what to say. He can still feel the guilt in his stomach, whereas she looks over the moon. Finally he replies, and says, "I can help, if you want."

He mauled Emily Murphy. He's the reason why Laurel's upset, why she wants to find out why it all happened. So, surely, he should try and help her get through this, because it's his fault. This was because of him. He needs to make things right, even if it ends with her finding out about what his friends call his furry little secret. They don't know each other that well. And if she ends up hating him because of it, then that's his own fault for hurting someone in the first place.

"Really?" says Laurel. Remus nods back at her, and a small smile creeps onto her face. "So, wanna solve a murder?"

And then the vision cuts out, and Briar's back to present day.

♡

WHEN BRIAR SNAPS OUT OF IT, there's a brief moment where she's sitting there, in shock, sitting opposite Madame Maxime. Normally after visions like that — the ones that take over her senses — she ends up fainting, or vomiting, or having some sort of reaction. But not today. Instead she feels even more wired, her head stirring in shock. She saw her mum! She doesn't feel happy, which feels weird to her — instead it upsets her, because seeing her mum makes her think, I wish I had met her. Briar's always wished she could've met her mum, or at least have an actual memory of her. She's seen the photos, but she doesn't remember her mum in the slightest... And she hates it.

Briar ends up leaving early, and she ends up finding Livvy, then Fleur, and then Fred, George, and Lee, telling them what happened. It sounds silly, how she found everyone important to her, exclaiming about how she's had the best lesson. It's only a vision. But to Briar it feels like the world, because to Briar, this is the first time she's ever even heard her mum speak.

Friday night is an early night for Briar, the energy spent on the vision beginning to take its toll. The full moon happens to fall on Sunday night, too, which could have something to do with it. Fleur also ends up going to bed early, so it doesn't make much of a difficulty, in terms of the light being on or anything; the Second Task is on the Sunday, and Fleur's at the point where she's prepared, sure, just nervous. Incredibly nervous. Not to mention the extra training she's been putting herself through.

The next morning Briar gets herself ready, and weirdly enough, she feels butterflies in her stomach. She doesn't know why, because by now, she's been going out with Fred for two months, and they've been best friends for years before that. There's no reason for Briar to feel nervous about them going on a date, is there? But, here she is, applying her makeup with a shaky hand, and spending an extra ten minutes finding an outfit.

Eventually she settles on a black pleated skirt, a white turtleneck, her pink winter coat that cuts off at her waist, and then her black suede thigh-high boots — her argument is if she wears those boots, then she doesn't have to wriggle into a pair of tights, which sure, isn't the best way to deal with the winter cold, but look, Briar spends five days of the week without wearing tights, since black ones would look weird against the baby-blue of her school uniform, but rather white socks that sit just above her knee, so what's the difference? Well... Besides the fact that, arguably, her suede thigh-highs are a lot cuter than socks.

She meets Fred outside of the hall, where he smiles at her. "You look pretty," he tells her, as she goes to hug him, standing on her tiptoes to reach. "Well, you always do, I've just gotten used to you wearing your school uniform..."

Briar shrugs, understanding. "That fabric doesn't flatter anyone," she says, incredibly sincerely, as she steps back, taking hold of his hand. "So, you said you had somewhere special in mind...?"

"Oh, I do," says Fred, looking confident in himself.

"Are you gonna tell me?"

"It's a surprise."

"I'm psychic, Freddie," says Briar, with an odd look on her face.

Fred glances at her, still smug, as if he knows wherever they're going, she's going to be happy by it. Briar remembers this look, from when he asked her to the ball. She thinks it's sweet.

"Can you not look into the future, please?" he says. "I want to see your face, when you realise... It's not that big of a deal, it's just a café, but I'd rather eat a spider than go in there, but I know that you really like it, so..."