Severus Snape had officially made it his goal to reign he'll upon Remus Lupin and his gang of misfits. That much was made clear after he was caught for the third time, slithering about as the full moon approached.
These impromptu appearances made him quite susceptible to Sirius's foul temper, which was only exacerbated by OWLs, the contemplation of any future involving having to find a job, and having to face his parents' ever growing wrath.
Meanwhile, Remus had his own problems to deal with. His moments of painlessness slowly grew shorter, and he found himself spending more time lying on the ground, trying to ease out the pain in his hips, or back.
He was no longer eleven, blessed with the ability of quick healing and tenacity. Remus Lupin was beginning to grow weary.
He felt like an old man, hobbling about up and down the stairs, with enough joint problems to send Madame Pomfrey into a heart attack if she ever found out. As it turned out, his incessant pains were not just an annoyance to himself.
"Merlin, will you just go to Pomfrey?" Sirius muttered for the third time that week. "You know she'll fix it in a jiffy. You look awful, moony. C'mon."
And the truth was that no matter how much well-meaninged complaining he could digest, he absolutely hated every time Sirius brought up his stupid limp or his stupid hunch or his stupid headaches. Because as far as he could tell, Remus Lupin was a big fucking eyesore, and Sirius couldn't wait to bring it up any chance he got.
Of course, if he ever were to confront Sirius about it, he'd open his eyes wide, and immediately begin to ramble in his perfect Sirius Black jargon about how he didn't mean it to come out as it did. And Remus would believe him because he knew that in spite of all his resentful thoughts, Sirius Black would never do anything to hurt him. And that never once had his words come from a place of judgment.
It didn't always erase that horrid feeling. That Remus's body was like a dirty dorm room. Constantly being nagged to be cleaned up, messy and broken and disgusting. But it did help.
But on the day of the full moon, Remus woke up with a body numbing, mind-splitting headache and immediately bolted for the shower. He turned the water from hot to scalding, trying to boil his bones and his stupid, degenerating body into mush that could be reformed into something salvageable. He knew it was a stupid, stupid idea, but at that very moment, he couldn't have cared less.
He could feel his breaths drawing tight in his lungs. The vapor was making it hard to breathe, like his lungs were drowning. He could feel his vision grow spotty and dark. He closed his eyes, only for a moment, trying to force his legs to stand sturdy. He didn't know if he'd begun swaying back and forth, or if that had just been an illusion. He quickly shut the hot water off, grabbing a towel.
He could hear knocking on the other end.
"Remus? Mate? Are you about finished?"
"Yeah, give me one second." He quickly pulled his robe over his head, panting and nauseous. He ignored how the material felt against his wet skin, hair leaving droplets down his back. He closed his eyes one final time, and opened the door, leaning heavily against the doorframe.
James tsked when he saw him, instinctively reaching to feel his forehead. Remus immediately batted him away, but James already had all he needed to know. "Hospital wing, my dear remoony. Go on, I'll walk you."
James's hair was plastered to his head, glasses fogging against the bridge of his nose. He was wearing a quidditch tee that was half drenched in sweat. James was always mental in the mornings, running and doing whatever exercises the quidditch fanatic could get his hands on.
Remus wrinkled his nose, "Nah, mate. You smell like Snivellus."
James gasped, looking at Remus as though he'd just kicked a small dog. "Merlin's ballsack, Remus. Pads wasn't kidding when he said you were mean on full moons. I- I-"
He proceeded to break down very loudly, dropping to his knees in an elaborate cacophony of sobbing. He clutched at the knees of Remus's robes.
"Take, it back," he wailed. "Oh godric, take it back, Remus!"
"Shut up," Sirius groaned from his spot in bed, grabbing a pillow and launching it at James as hard as he could. "Wanker."
"Be a dear and take moony down to the Hospital Wing, would you?" James called from the bathroom. A few seconds later, you could clearly hear the water hitting against the shower.
"I'm not a dog, James," Remus called back, frowning. "I don't need to be walked."
"Oh, but I do." Sirius grinned. And Remus groaned at the look on his face.
Suddenly in his place lay a black dog, tangled in his knotted bedsheets. Padfoot grinned, toddling over towards Remus very eagerly and sitting at his feet. Remus sighed, scratching the canine behind the ears until he flopped over on his belly, content.
"We're not going to the Hospital Wing," he told the dog, plopping down on his bed very decisively.
"Remus, you look stupid, talking to a mutt." The voice of Peter Pettigrew came out very muffled from a nearby lump. "Go on. You've three perfectly capable notetakers to choose from, and I'll pay the kitchens a visit and see if they can make you some Shepherd's Pie. How's that sound?"
"Like you're eager to get rid of me," Remus grumbled.
"Aw, come on now, moony." Sirius grinned, now fully human. His hair looked slightly rumpled but otherwise tame.
Remus sighed.
********
Brigitte Alarie strode through the wide Hospital Wing doors breezily, clutching a heavy stack of parchment. She gave Madame Pomfrey a rushed greeting, mindlessly promising to the matron's demands of silence and little exertion.
She had her wand nestled haphazardly between the tangled blonde knot at the base of her head, a quill and parchment trailing not far behind. Remus noted that the levitating stationery seemed to be scratching away rather intently on its own.
"Hello, Remus," Brigitte sat down in a nearby chair, dropping a stack of papers on his bedside table. "I had five minutes before my next class, and I figured I'd drop by. That covers Arithmancy, Astronomy, and Potions."
"'Lo," he mumbled hoarsely, closing his own book. "Why are you here? How'd you even know I was here?"
Brigitte blinked. He saw her shift in her seat uncomfortably. She flicked her wand, and the cluttered pile of rubbish he'd accumulated from the other marauders' visits was organized neatly.
He sighed. "Did James put you up to this?"
"Yes," she said immediately. "Yes, he did. He asked me to deliver some notes and classwork for you. And I did. Clearly."
"Okay..." Remus skimmed the homework quickly, rubbing his temples. He could hear the quill perched at Brigitte's shoulder still scratching away madly.
"What is that?" He jerked his head in the direction of the quill. She turned to look at it, then plucked the parchment out of the air, showing him the lines of slanted script.
"Why, your essay, of course," she said, a sardonic lilt lifting from the edges of her words. She fixed him with a stern look. "What, you forgot?"
Remus blinked, staring at the parchment. The penmanship was very clearly his, and the words utilized his range of vocabulary. He figured he didn't want to know what she'd done to enchant the quills that allowed them that extent of mimicry.
"Right," he said slowly. "The essay. Which I wrote, that's due later this afternoon for McGonagall. That I wrote very meticulously and diligently last night so it could be submitted today."
Brigitte smiled, rising from her seat. "Feel better, Remus. I'll see you in class tomorrow."
********
"Aw, Remus," James muttered, unraveling Remus's plagiarism essay. Sirius and Peter were being told off for a dual escapade gone wrong, and James had taken the chance to visit Remus, seeing as he had a free period. The last James saw of the two, Peter was trying to ignite a few dungbombs as a distraction so they could turn into their respective animagi in the plume of smoke and join Remus. "You wrote that? Today? Aren't you supposed to be resting?"
"Brigitte wrote it," Remus said, chucking him a chocolate frog as he entered.
James caught it without even looking, admiring the hideous chicken scratch that filled the parchment. He tore open the package with his teeth, biting the frog's head off crisply.
"Don't get chocolate on my essay," Remus admonished, pulling back the crisp foil to his Honeyduke's chocolate bar. "I'm sure she spent a lot of time charming the quill to write the essay."
"Brigitte stopped by?" James looked at him in confusion. "Does she usually do that?"
"Sometimes," Remus shrugged, leafing through a charms textbook. "I thought you always told her where I was. Usually, she's just here for a few minutes and delivers a bit of classwork and maybe a few sweets. That's all."
"I don't tell her," James said, giving him a puzzled frown. "She always just... knows? You think it's Sirius?"
Remus turned the page. "Nah, she hates him."
"The feeling is very much mutual," James agreed, emptying his pockets of the pumpkin pasties he'd toted. Remus wrinkled his nose as he picked a spot of lint off one of them. James took a bite out of the pasty, offering it to Remus. "Peter, then?"
"Peter," Remus agreed, mouth full of pasty.
********
That night, Remus hurt all over.
His head felt as though it were splitting open, lips dry and cracked. When he licked them, he felt the familiar taste of iron on his tongue. His joints hurt, his muscles hurt, he felt bile rise to his throat at the scent of any painkilling potion. Madame Pomfrey fussed and fretted until he asked to be alone for fear that he'd snap and have a go at her.
She left, almost as distressed as him but far more levelheaded. It was no use, trying to give him painkillers if he would be sick and make it all come back up again. And so the room was dark and silent, and he lay in his cot, counting the seconds passing by with his eyes squeezed shut. He missed how gently she touched his back when he heaved, how softly she murmured, 'I know, my dear. I know.' as he choked back sobs.
Remus Lupin was alone.
********
Sirius Black was not alone. That much he could be sure.
Someone was following him, and he knew exactly who it was. Flitting through the shadows like some annoying bat, constantly trying to stick his nose where it didn't belong.
Snape was going to pay tonight.
********
James knew something was wrong the very instant Sirius stepped into their shared dormitory, reeking of cigarettes and quiet rage. James knew Padfoot well enough to know that quiet rage was when he needed to stay alert. When Sirius went from brooding to cold and calculating, a shadowy mould of his parents and those before him.
Gone is the fiery rage that James knows all too well. Gone are the sharp insults, the surge of violence, the falling of anger, and the influx of despair.
Instead, his eyes are unfocused and he sits on the ledge of the window, and each moment he stays there makes James's heart rate increase by the tenfold. And he smokes more acrid cigarettes but James couldn't possibly care less because if that's what it takes, so be it.
As long as there was still a Sirius to scold and berate and laugh and cry and love.
But tonight is not about Sirius.
Tonight, Sirius has done a terrible, terrible thing.
And James watches as the moon gets higher in the night sky, watches as Sirius stares at absolutely fucking nothing.
He's looking at the Forbidden Forest, or somewhere in its general direction. But if James knows Sirius, he knows that Sirius sees nothing. And then in a flash, he'll see everything. The World As We Know It at his fingertips, and every luminous, radiant, brilliant thing, crushed by the darkness that plagues it. And that will make him want to cry.
But he won't.
Because Sirius Black doesn't cry. Whether by choice or genetic makeup, James doesn't know.
What he does know is that when he'd carefully joined his best friend on the window ledge, Sirius Black began to laugh.
He laughed, and it was horrible. Dry and uneven, sharp around the edges like shattered glass. Like each shard dug itself deeper into his abdomen, as he chuckled and James was scared shitless.
Perhaps he should've known. Laughing is the next closest thing to crying. And since Sirius Black could not cry, the only thing left was to laugh.
"Snape's gonna get what's coming for him." He laughed, his eyes were bright and unfocused. He took another drag from his cigarette, leaning back to blow the smoke up towards the sky.
"Sirius, what did you do?" James's voice came out barely above a whisper, heart pounding in his chest.
Sirius didn't seem to hear him.
James grabbed his arm, feeling his skin bristle as Sirius pulled away sharply, searching wildly for a perpetrator.
"Sirius," James said, evenly. His heart was hammering uncontrollably. He felt tears prick in his eyes. "Sirius, please. You're scaring me."
Sirius's head finally snapped towards him, eyes boring into his.
"I told Snape," he said quietly, a look of quiet horror, mixed with invigorating anticipation written plainly on his face. As soon as the words left his mouth, he looked around wildly at James, drinking in his every emotion. "James?"
"What did you tell Snape," James asked, but he already knew. He knew, and his stomach sank.
"Remus," Sirius whispered. "Remus's secret."
James immediately felt his blood boil.
"How dare you," he said quietly, wrenching the window open.
He grabbed Sirius roughly by the shoulders, forcing him back into the dorms. Then he locked the window with his wand for good measure. "How fucking dare you."
"James, I'm-I'm so fucking sorry," Sirius breathed. He looked so pathetic at that moment, shoulders shrinking as James violently grabbed his cloak, nearly ripping it in half, then tore half the dorm apart in search for his invisibility cloak.
"Stay right fucking here." He said, grabbing his wand. He couldn't even look at Sirius, couldn't believe he'd ever liked that asshole. Couldn't believe he'd wasted his time worrying about his well being, spent his nights wishing he could give Walburga Black a piece of his mind.
"James, please," Sirius begged.
The door slammed shut.
:))))
I'm going to a speech comp next week and I'm super scared. Please wish me luck if y'all!!!!!
I'm not even gonna mention this angst-filled chapter. Wait until part 2 comes out :))))
love y'all!!