𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 [𝐣.𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫]

28: 𝔧𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔢𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔩𝔢𝔤𝔤𝔢𝔡 𝔟𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔡

Vivid flashes of the moon, torn skin, and grunts of pain. He exhaled a shaky breath, forcing himself to remain calm. He felt tears burning in his eyes, could feel the cotton sheets scrunched between his clammy fingers.

"Remus," Madame Pomfrey said firmly, "I am going to tell you everything, okay? But I need you to understand. It is not your fault. It never will be, you hear me?"

But it is my fault.

He nodded mutely, and wondered if she could tell he was lying, wondered if one could even lie through an action, wondered if he'd get sent to Azkaban for murder, wondered if he could ever forgive himself.

The answer was no, inevitably.

Madame Pomfrey drew in a breath. "Did you tell anyone about your condition?"

And slowly, again, he shook his head.

If he'd killed them, if he'd harmed them in any way, he refused to have them seen as stupid, reckless boys.

He refused to see their stories tarnished by free will, their lives reduced to a mistake they made in their youth- following their werewolf friend into the forest and never walking out.

"Your friend, Sirius Black," Madame Pomfrey said, looking as though it physically pained her. She had begun to unconsciously cork and uncork a blood replenishing potion, fiddling with it in her hands. "He-"

"No," he choked, his throat burning.

He immediately began to rise, gritting his teeth in pain. Madame Pomfrey only shook her head mutely, placing a hand on his shoulder. He slowly laid down, heart hammering in his chest.

"He told Severus Snape last night about your condition. Last night, Mr. Snape snuck out to see if he could confirm what he'd been told. Both face possible suspension from Dumbledore."

A pause.

"What?"

And suddenly, Remus didn't know whether to be relieved or hurt. So terribly fucking hurt.

He hadn't even thought twice about entrusting Sirius with his secret. Of course, he'd never thought, because he was fucking naive and fucking stupid and fucking gullible- and- fuck, he wanted to die. He really wanted to die.

"He- he wouldn't." Remus shook his head miserably, feeling his chest, his heart, everything he'd ever felt, gone.

He couldn't deny it, couldn't even fight the feeble resistance his brain tried to provide, because he knew that Sirius absolutely fucking would.

But he shook his head despite the throbbing pain building up behind his temples, even though he knew, he knew that of course, it was Sirius who'd gone and spilled the one thing he'd let him have.

That's what he did. That's what the Black family had done for years. Toujours Pur. Always pure.

"Remus..." Madame Pomfrey cradled his face, his stupid fucking face, and pressed a kiss on his forehead as if he was the most precious boy in the world.

The truth of the matter, despite all her delusions, was that he was not.

She consoled him anyway, as tears fell down his cheeks, slowly, at first, then not slow at all.

Remus wondered if this was what it was like to be drained of everything, every happy moment, every moment of affection he'd ever felt toward Sirius Black.

Squeezed dry or everything that had made the world beautiful. A life worth living.

He wondered how he could love such a horrid person, then wondered if it should've happened sooner. Of course, he thought. Of course, it would've been now, of course, of course, of course.