FIC: Lions and Snakes, Chapter Three
Mar. 27th, 2006 11:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mysidDisclaimer: Hogwarts, the characters, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling.
Lions and Snakes
Chapter Three: Wolf Cub in the Lions’ Den
“Hurry up, Remus! I’m hungry enough to eat a hippogriff, feathers and all,” Sirius urged as the two boys finished cleaning up at the end of Potions class. They were the last two to leave the classroom due to their potion boiling over when Remus added a bit too much milkweed fluff.
“I’m coming,” Remus replied as he locked away his supplies in his cupboard. Sirius was bouncing on the balls of his feet near the doorway, but he waited for his friend to draw near before actually leaving the classroom. Their timing left much to be desired. The Slytherin fourth-year boys were just passing the dungeon classroom on their own way to lunch.
“Look what we have here, Gentlemen,” said Sutherland, a tall boy with his long brown hair tied back in a tail. “It’s our wayward first-year and one of his Gryffindor boyfriends.”
“Not just one of his Gryffindor boyfriends,” replied a dark-skinned boy. Sirius thought his name was Addison. “It’s the dirty little half-blood.” As he spoke, the five fourth-years spread out to surround the two smaller boys.
Two thoughts ran simultaneously through Sirius’s mind: “Protect Remus,” although he had no idea how to do that, and, “Kill Severus for telling people that Remus’s mum is Muggle-born.”
“Get out of our way, please,” Remus said firmly. “We’re on our way to lunch, and I don’t want any trouble.” Sirius marvelled inwardly that Remus could pretend to be so calm. Remus was too smart not to realize that he was in danger.
“What you want, you dirty little abomination, and what we want appear to be two different things,” Sutherland said. Sirius knew from previous observation that Sutherland was the de facto leader of his dorm mates. “We want you to stop hanging around with your betters, and if Black won’t tell you to get lost, we’ll have to deliver the message for him.” Sutherland nodded at the others, “Take them,” and both first-year boys suddenly found their arms pinned behind their backs by two older boys each.
A rough hand groped for Sirius’s pocket and took his wand. Sutherland turned on his heel and led the way deeper into the dungeons. Sirius was pushed forward, and although he tried to stand his ground, he was out-muscled by the two larger boys. Behind him, he heard the sounds of a sudden scuffle and the sickening crack of a skull hitting stone.
“Not in the corridor, you idi—” Sutherland hissed as he turned back at the sound, but his eyes grew wide as the words died on his lips. One of the older boys holding Sirius’s arms—Sirius thought his name was Serrault— twisted to look back over his shoulder and then suddenly let go to scramble back against the wall. Addison relaxed his hold as well, and Sirius was able to look back. Remus held one of attackers pinned against the wall, one hand clutching his throat tightly enough that the boy was turning purple. Two wands were in his other hand, aimed beyond Sirius at Sutherland. Remus’s eyes were narrowed as he glared at Sutherland. When they flicked to Addison, he immediately released Sirius and stepped back. Sirius didn’t blame him a bit; he wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that glare. Sutherland ran the instant Remus wasn’t focused on him, and Addison ran in the other direction when Remus looked toward Sutherland again.
The boy Remus was holding, Katz, seemed about to lose consciousness. “Let him go, Remus,” Sirius said quietly. “It’s safe now.” Remus released his grip and watched as Katz fell to his knees gasping for air and coughing. Remus’s eyes slowly moved from the gasping boy, to the one unconscious on the floor behind him, to the frightened one flattened against the opposite wall, and finally to Sirius. It was only when he looked at Sirius that his eyes grew fearful.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He bolted toward the stairs, still clutching the two wands, his bookbag forgotten on the floor behind him.
Sirius quickly checked on the condition of the boy on the floor. His hair was matted with blood from a wound on the back of his head, but he was breathing. “Take him to the hospital wing,” he ordered Serrault. Sirius himself put his arm under Katz’s shoulders and helped him to his feet. “Tell Madam Pomfrey any story you want but keep my friend’s name out of it—unless you want everyone to know that you all got your asses whipped by a half-blood first-year. Oh, and give me back my damn wand.”
Sirius was reasonably certain that the threat of humiliation of would keep them from accusing Remus of attacking them, and if it didn’t, house loyalties be damned, Sirius would tell the truth. He’d also tell the truth if Remus wanted to go to the teachers, but somehow he had the impression that Remus would not. Sirius would probably be spared choosing between standing with his friend and standing with his house—this time at least.
By the time Sirius and Serrault had delivered the two injured students to the hospital wing, lunch period was almost over. Wanting to check on Remus, Sirius ran to the Great Hall faster than he would have dared if he wasn’t reasonably certain all the teachers were at lunch. The last stragglers, including James and Peter, were just coming out when Sirius reached the Hall.
“How’s Remus?” Sirius managed to gasp out before dropping two bookbags, his own and Remus’s, on the floor and leaning forward, hands on his knees, panting for breath.
“What do you mean, ‘How’s Remus?’ He was with you the last time we saw him. And why didn’t either of you make it to lunch?” James demanded.
“Bloody hell,” Sirius muttered. He straightened up to face them. “We had a little run in with some of my housemates when we were leaving Potions.”
“Snape?” Peter asked.
“What’d they do to Remus?” James asked simultaneously.
Sirius shook his head. “Fourth-years, and they didn’t hurt him.” Sirius glanced around at the other students, some of whom weren’t too discrete in their eavesdropping. “Look, I can’t give you details now, but Remus was really upset. He’s fine, but he’s upset. When you see him, tell him I’m sorry. And try to get him to come to our room tonight. I want to apologize in person. I’ve got to go to Defence.”
* * * * *
Sirius was already waiting when James arrived at the secret room after dinner. Sirius jumped to his feet and watched hopefully as James came in, but his face fell when James shook his head and closed the door.
“He isn’t speaking to me, is he?” Sirius sank back down onto the sofa and raked his fingers of one hand through his hair. “Damn bloody Sutherland. Damn bloody Addison. Damn bloody Snape.”
“He never showed up at afternoon classes and he isn’t in Gryffindor Tower either. Peter stayed in the common room in case he comes back,” James explained. “And I thought you said Snape wasn’t there.”
“He wasn’t. Long story.” Sirius dismissed the unimportant details with a shake of his head. “Where could Remus be?”
“I don’t know,” James said in an annoyed voice. “We’ve been worried all afternoon. What happened?”
“Five fourth-years jumped us—bad timing, not planned—and they started saying he shouldn’t hang out with me, and called him ‘a dirty little half-blood’ and ‘an abomination,’ and they started dragging us off somewhere, and—God, James, I don’t know what—” Sirius raked both hands through his hair and kept his head bowed, black tufts of hair between pale fingers at the nape of his neck. When he spoke again, it was nearly a whisper. “They were going to hurt him and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop it.”
For twelve-year-old boys, the unwritten rule was clear: Physical contact must always be very brief and/or be disguised as roughhousing. But some situations just begged for an exception to the “No Touching” rule. James hadn’t spent most of his life being Sirius Black’s best friend without learning that he cared more for his friends’ well being than his own. A failure to protect a friend would have pained him indeed. James put a comforting arm around his friend’s shoulders.
“Who saved him?” James asked when Sirius didn’t volunteer the information.
“He did.” Sirius looked up now with a grin on his face. “You should have seen it, James! He knocked one of them out—Pomfrey said he had a concussion—and he had another by the throat, and—”
The candles suddenly guttered in a draft, and Sirius’s eyes were drawn to the door again. Remus slipped in quietly, watching his friends warily. He allowed the door to close but stayed near it.
“Are they O.K.?” he asked.
“Who?” Sirius asked in confusion.
“The people I hurt when I lost control. Are they going to be O.K.?”
“They’re fine, not that they deserve to be. Are you O.K.?”
Remus nodded. He pulled a wand out of his pocket and tossed it to Sirius. “This belongs to one of them.” He shifted his gaze to James. “Has McGonagall or Dumbledore come looking for me yet?”
“No,” James said. His brow wrinkled in confusion. “Why?”
Remus nodded sadly. “They will. He started to turn for the door, but paused, his eyes fixed on the doorknob. “In case I don’t get another chance to tell you before I have to go, I just wanted to thank you both for being my friends. It meant more to me than you know.”
“What are you talking about?” Sirius jumped off the sofa and grabbed Remus by the sleeve just as he put his hand on the doorknob. “Where are you going? You’re talking like you got expelled or something.”
“Not yet, but I will be.” Remus kept staring at the doorknob rather than meet Sirius’s eyes.
“No way. You were defending yourself, Remus, and I am willing to say so. You won’t get expelled. They might, but you won’t.”
Remus shook his head sadly. “I lost control and injured students. I proved that I’m dangerous. They can’t allow me to stay. I know they can’t.” He finally looked up at Sirius. “You don’t know the whole story, Sirius. If you did, you’d understand.”
“Of course I know the whole story! I was there, remember? No help whatsoever, but there.” Sirius sighed in confusion and looked at James for assistance.
Sirius didn’t understand, but James feared that he was beginning to. “Lost control—proved that I’m dangerous—Remus repelled by wolfsbane but too quiet and calm to be a werewolf—unless he’s just been hiding it—he lost control—knocked out one student and had another by the throat—God, he must be strong.”
“Let him leave, Sirius,” James said with forced calm. Remus stared into James’s eyes. “He knows that I know,” James thought.
“But—”
Remus shouldered past Sirius and left the room. James’s legs suddenly turned to water and he collapsed back onto the sofa that he had been sitting on when Remus came in.
“Those students that Remus overpowered, they were bigger than him?”
“Yeah,” Sirius answered vaguely, still staring at the closed door. “They were fourth-years, why?”
“How many were holding him?”
“Two. Two holding him, two holding me, plus Sutherland giving orders.” Sirius finally abandoned his vigil at the door and sat in an armchair near James.
“He overpowered two students who were larger than him. Doesn’t that strike you as slightly odd, Sirius?”
“Maybe, but I didn’t see how it happened. They were behind me. Maybe one of them tripped or something, I don’t know.”
“Or something,” James agreed. “I don’t like this; I don’t like it at all. I’m actually starting to think Remus, my quiet friend Remus, is a monster. Either I’m the worst friend ever, or I’ve been a blind fool,” he thought. His head was starting to hurt and his stomach didn’t feel much better. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Tell me I’m wrong, Sirius.”
“You’re wrong. About what?”
James grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment out of Sirius’s bookbag. “When has Remus been absent? I need exact dates.”
“Oh gee, let my check my diary,” Sirius said in a falsetto voice as he opened an imaginary book. A quick glare from James told him that his friend was not in the mood for jokes. “Visits home or in the hospital wing?”
“Home—no, wait. That last visit home, he turned out to be in the hospital wing after all, so either one, I guess.”
“Well, like you just said, he was in the hospital when I broke your leg, and that was the last Saturday in April. And he went home to see his mum at the end of February. I remember Peter saying that morbid comment about people who are terminally ill usually dying in winter.”
“He was absent the very first weekend of September. I remember thinking that he must be severely homesick or something. And he missed the Slytherin-Ravenclaw Quidditch match. It was the weekend that everyone got angry because we sat together in Potions. Everyone kept telling me I should go sit with ‘my real house’ and cheer for them.”
“First weekend of December, I think. I can’t remember any others,” Sirius admitted. “I remember his being absent, but not when.”
“He couldn’t come to the New Year’s Party, but that may have been unrelated. Do you have a calendar with you?”
“No. Why? What are you trying to figure out?”
James found that he couldn’t put his accusation into words. It would make his distrust of his friend too real. Instead, he shared the first clue. “Remus wouldn’t go in the greenhouse when wolfsbane was in it.”
Sirius blinked and half-gasped as all the clues added up as quickly in his mind as they had in James’s. He glanced down at the list of dates written by James. “We need a calendar.”
* * * * *
Peter hurried over to James as soon as he entered the Gryffindor common room. “What’s going on?” he demanded quietly. “Remus finally showed up here, but he packed everything into his trunk and now he’s sitting on his bed with the curtains drawn, and when I asked him what was wrong, he said that you’d tell me.”
“Do you have a calendar with the full moons marked on it?” James asked. He wanted his theory confirmed or refuted before he shared it with anyone else.
“I think my calendar has the full moons. It’s upstairs. Do you want me to get it?”
“Upstairs, in our dorm, where Remus is.” James shook his head. “May I borrow a calendar from someone?” James asked the room at large. With exams looming ever closer, it was no surprise to find many students hard at work in the common room.
“Catch,” a third-year student called before tossing an assignment book to James.
“Thanks,” James called to him as he carried the book over to a quiet corner with a couple of empty chairs. Peter settled into the seat across from James and waited tensely while James flipped through the book to certain months and consulted notes on a piece of parchment. He still didn’t know what was going on, but he could sense James’s seriousness of purpose.
“Damn,” James muttered. “I hoped I was wrong.” He looked at Peter’s tense expression and knew it must mirror his own. “C’mon, Sirius is waiting for us in our room.” James led the way out of the portrait hole, returning the calendar as he passed. He knew that Peter had to be dying of curiosity, but to his credit, he refrained from asking any questions as they hurried to the sixth floor corridor.
They found Sirius pacing in front of the fireplace. “Well?” he demanded of James.
James felt his throat tighten as he tried to speak. He nodded. “All five dates matched. He’s—” James licked his lips. “He’s a werewolf.”
“A werewolf!” Peter exclaimed. “Who’s a werewolf?”
Sirius nodded and began pacing again. “Listen. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking while you were gone. None of the teachers know that he was in a fight, and I’m pretty sure it’s going to stay that way. We lied to Madam Pomfrey, and either she believed us, or she’s decided not to call us on the lie. None of the fourth-years want people to know that they were beaten by a first-year, so they’ll keep their mouths shut. We won’t tell, so—”
“What do you mean, ‘We won’t tell’?” James said hotly. “He’s a werewolf!”
“Who?” Peter demanded again.
“Remus!” James said angrily. “Remus is a werewolf, and today he almost killed two people. He lost control of his temper, and he almost killed two students.” He glared at Sirius as he said the last.
“It was self-defence,” Sirius said just as angrily. “I was there, James, not you. He didn’t do anything that wasn’t justified. Would you be happier if they had beaten him bloody? Would you be happier if he were the one lying in a hospital bed?”
Just a few hours ago, when Sirius had first started to tell Peter and James about Remus’s “run-in” with some Slytherins, James had been very afraid that Remus was indeed lying injured in a hospital bed. Just a few hours ago, he had felt immense relief hearing that Remus was spared that. How could he feel differently now?
“Of course not,” James admitted.
“But you’re willing to get him kicked out of school because he dared to defend himself.”
“Oh Merlin,” James sighed as he sank down into a chair and buried his face in his hands. “I’m so confused. Which is the real Remus? The one we considered our friend, or the one who almost killed two people—in self defence,” he added hurriedly so Sirius would not.
“Let’s ask someone,” Peter said quietly. “Someone who would know.”
“Who?”
“Remus,” Sirius replied.
* * * * *
In the end, all three spent the night sleeping on the yellow sofas of their secret room. Peter didn’t want to go back to the dormitory without James, James didn’t want to go back until he knew what he’d say, and Sirius didn’t particularly want to go back to his dormitory at all.
James had not slept well. He blamed it on the unfamiliar “bed,” but he knew that it was more than that. His conscience wasn’t too pleased with him for turning his back on Remus. Although awake, he lay with his eyes closed, waiting for Peter and Sirius to stir. It was a Saturday morning, so there was no need to rush. They had all day to speak to Remus—if he hadn’t already left. He heard the soft footfalls on the carpet at the same moment that he smelled a faint whiff of bacon. He opened his eyes to see a blurry brown-haired form placing something on the coffee table.
“Hi,” James said quietly.
“Hi,” Remus replied just as quietly. The pale blurs that were his hands disappeared into the darkness of his robe. “I was up early, and I thought you guys might want some breakfast.”
“Thanks. Could I have my glasses?”
Remus turned back to the coffee table, picked up the glasses beside the breakfast tray, and handed them to James. “I—um—I already sent my parents an owl and told them that I need to leave. I’ll be out of your dormitory before tonight.” Remus started for the door.
“Wait! We want to talk to you,” James called out as he sat up. He didn’t know what he wanted to say; he didn’t know what he felt. He just knew that he wanted to say something. He glanced over at the other sofas and saw that Sirius and Peter had woken up as well.
Remus sat down in one of the armchairs, but he shook his head. “There’s nothing to say,” Remus said in a hopeless tone as he stared down at the carpet. “You’re afraid of me. You spent all night here instead of our dormitory, didn’t you?”
“No, that was because—” Peter said, but he fell silent when he couldn’t think of a reason.
“Should we be afraid of you?” James asked.
“Yes—maybe—I don’t know.” With each word, Remus’s voice became fainter as he spoke in the direction of his lap. “I try to control my temper, I really do. I have to. I’m dangerous if I don’t.” He raised his chin and a look of fierce pride crossed his face for a moment. “I almost got through the year without losing control, didn’t I?”
“You didn’t lose control,” Sirius said. He had been lying with his head propped up by his elbow, but now he sat up and put his feet on the floor. He leaned forward and stared intently into Remus’s face, trying to make Remus feel the sincerity he was putting into his words. “You protected yourself and me.”
Remus shook his head again. “That’s not how it felt.”
“No? Then let me tell you how it looked. Five students were dragging you off who-knows-where to hurt you, and you did what was necessary, and only what was necessary, to subdue them. You knocked one unconscious but didn’t hurt him any more than that. You pinned another against the wall until we were out of danger, and then you immediately let him go. The three others, you didn’t hurt at all. Sutherland would happily have ordered the others to beat you up, but when you were pointing a wand at him, you allowed him run away. Trust me, I would not have shown the control and restraint that you did.”
“You don’t need to. You’re not strong enough to kill someone with your bare hands, are you?”
“It’s true?” Peter whimpered. “They said that you were a—but you’re so nice and—it’s true?”
“Yeah, Peter, I’m a werewolf.” Remus exhaled deeply as if freeing himself of the secret he had been guarding. His gaze returned to James. “The wolfsbane, right? I knew you noticed.”
James nodded. “Then last night, we checked the dates you were absent against the full moon.” James glanced over at Sirius and made his decision. Sirius may or may not have convinced Remus that he was not out of control yesterday, but he had convinced James. “I’m sorry you had to miss the New Year’s party at my house. I’ll be more careful to schedule things around the full moon from now on.”
“What?”
“Let’s face it, Remus. People who can put up with an obnoxious wanker like Sirius are few and far between. We’d be mad to stop beings friends with you.” Sirius grinned and nodded in agreement. “Peter?”
Peter’s brow was furrowed. “When’s the next full moon, Remus?” he asked.
“A week from tomorrow. It’ll be the last one this term.”
“What happens then? I mean, do you really go home, or—”
Remus shook his head. “No, I stay here. They have someplace safe that I can go. I can’t get out when I’m a wolf, and only a few of the teachers know how to get in. Usually Madam Pomfrey goes with me. Professor McGonagall did a couple of times when Madam Pomfrey was busy. Then in the morning, Madam Pomfrey gets me and I stay in the hospital wing until I’ve recovered.”
“Recovered?”
“Well I’m pretty knackered afterward. The transformation takes a lot out of me. I feel completely drained of energy, like a wrung sponge. And I—do you really want to know any of this? Or do you just want to know that I can’t get loose and hurt someone?”
“We want to know,” Sirius said immediately. He settled down on the floor beside the food and began to eat a cold bacon sandwich.
“If you want to tell us,” James amended.
“I maul myself during the night. The wolf wants to attack someone, and I’m the only one there.” He pushed up his sleeves and revealed numerous scars, some livid and new, some faded and silvery. Now James understood why Remus had always avoided undressing in front of his dorm mates. “Madam Pomfrey’s really good at healing most of my wounds without scars, but sometimes the wounds are just too deep and she can only minimize the scarring. And a lot of these are from when I was younger. My parents had to take care of me themselves, and neither one had much experience in that area. They do now.”
James was momentarily taken aback by Remus’s tone as he explained his scars. He said it all calmly and matter of factly, as it was the most normal thing in the world to maul oneself on a regular basis. “For him, it is,” James realized. James glanced over at Sirius and saw that he had abandoned his sandwich half-eaten.
“Just how badly do you hurt yourself, Remus?” Sirius asked.
Remus smiled sardonically. “Well, I haven’t managed to kill myself—yet.”
* * * * *
Remus was half-awake as his body decided which need was greater: his thirst, or his exhaustion. Muted voices at the far end of the ward were tipping the scales in favour of waking up, and when he heard his own name, he became fully awake. He lifted his head off the pillow and turned toward the voices. One of the curtained partitions around his bed blocked his view.
“—needs privacy and rest.”
“We won’t wake him, we just want to be here when he wakes up.”
“If Remus wants to see you after he wakes up, I’ll send for you.”
“Madam Pomfrey, I’m awake,” Remus called in a hoarse voice. His throat always hurt after the transformation. Everything always hurt after the transformation. “Could my friends visit me please?” Judging by the sounds of running feet, they had not waited for her approval.
He struggled to sit up before they saw him. It was bad enough that the dark hollows under his eyes and cheeks, and the bandages on his arms and legs, would make him look like a partially unwrapped mummy; he didn’t need to look like a helpless invalid too.
“Here you go, Remus,” Sirius said cheerfully as he slipped one arm around Remus’s chest and pulled him up and back against the pillows that he placed upright against the headboard with his other hand. Then Sirius sat at the foot of the bed as if sharing a bed with a corpse-like dark creature was something he did every day.
Peter sat in the chair near Remus’s bed. His worried eyes betrayed that he was concerned about Remus’s appearance. Sirius appeared unfazed, but unlike Peter and James, Sirius had seen Remus on a “day after” once before.
“How do you feel, Remus?” Peter asked worriedly.
“Fine,” Remus lied. He didn’t want to be fussed over and pitied. “Where’s James?”
“Right here,” James answered, and a moment later, he appeared in the gap between two curtains carrying a chair. James considered Remus’s appearance for a moment. “You’re right, Sirius. He does like shit on the day after a full moon.”
Peter’s mouth dropped open in shock at James’s appalling lack of proper bedside manners. Remus, on the other hand, loved it.
“I do believe my exact words were, ‘He looks like death warmed over,’” Sirius corrected.
Remus grinned. “All this flattery will go to my head.”
“What are friends for?” James said with a smile.
On to the Epilogue
Chapter Three: Wolf Cub in the Lions’ Den
“Hurry up, Remus! I’m hungry enough to eat a hippogriff, feathers and all,” Sirius urged as the two boys finished cleaning up at the end of Potions class. They were the last two to leave the classroom due to their potion boiling over when Remus added a bit too much milkweed fluff.
“I’m coming,” Remus replied as he locked away his supplies in his cupboard. Sirius was bouncing on the balls of his feet near the doorway, but he waited for his friend to draw near before actually leaving the classroom. Their timing left much to be desired. The Slytherin fourth-year boys were just passing the dungeon classroom on their own way to lunch.
“Look what we have here, Gentlemen,” said Sutherland, a tall boy with his long brown hair tied back in a tail. “It’s our wayward first-year and one of his Gryffindor boyfriends.”
“Not just one of his Gryffindor boyfriends,” replied a dark-skinned boy. Sirius thought his name was Addison. “It’s the dirty little half-blood.” As he spoke, the five fourth-years spread out to surround the two smaller boys.
Two thoughts ran simultaneously through Sirius’s mind: “Protect Remus,” although he had no idea how to do that, and, “Kill Severus for telling people that Remus’s mum is Muggle-born.”
“Get out of our way, please,” Remus said firmly. “We’re on our way to lunch, and I don’t want any trouble.” Sirius marvelled inwardly that Remus could pretend to be so calm. Remus was too smart not to realize that he was in danger.
“What you want, you dirty little abomination, and what we want appear to be two different things,” Sutherland said. Sirius knew from previous observation that Sutherland was the de facto leader of his dorm mates. “We want you to stop hanging around with your betters, and if Black won’t tell you to get lost, we’ll have to deliver the message for him.” Sutherland nodded at the others, “Take them,” and both first-year boys suddenly found their arms pinned behind their backs by two older boys each.
A rough hand groped for Sirius’s pocket and took his wand. Sutherland turned on his heel and led the way deeper into the dungeons. Sirius was pushed forward, and although he tried to stand his ground, he was out-muscled by the two larger boys. Behind him, he heard the sounds of a sudden scuffle and the sickening crack of a skull hitting stone.
“Not in the corridor, you idi—” Sutherland hissed as he turned back at the sound, but his eyes grew wide as the words died on his lips. One of the older boys holding Sirius’s arms—Sirius thought his name was Serrault— twisted to look back over his shoulder and then suddenly let go to scramble back against the wall. Addison relaxed his hold as well, and Sirius was able to look back. Remus held one of attackers pinned against the wall, one hand clutching his throat tightly enough that the boy was turning purple. Two wands were in his other hand, aimed beyond Sirius at Sutherland. Remus’s eyes were narrowed as he glared at Sutherland. When they flicked to Addison, he immediately released Sirius and stepped back. Sirius didn’t blame him a bit; he wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that glare. Sutherland ran the instant Remus wasn’t focused on him, and Addison ran in the other direction when Remus looked toward Sutherland again.
The boy Remus was holding, Katz, seemed about to lose consciousness. “Let him go, Remus,” Sirius said quietly. “It’s safe now.” Remus released his grip and watched as Katz fell to his knees gasping for air and coughing. Remus’s eyes slowly moved from the gasping boy, to the one unconscious on the floor behind him, to the frightened one flattened against the opposite wall, and finally to Sirius. It was only when he looked at Sirius that his eyes grew fearful.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He bolted toward the stairs, still clutching the two wands, his bookbag forgotten on the floor behind him.
Sirius quickly checked on the condition of the boy on the floor. His hair was matted with blood from a wound on the back of his head, but he was breathing. “Take him to the hospital wing,” he ordered Serrault. Sirius himself put his arm under Katz’s shoulders and helped him to his feet. “Tell Madam Pomfrey any story you want but keep my friend’s name out of it—unless you want everyone to know that you all got your asses whipped by a half-blood first-year. Oh, and give me back my damn wand.”
Sirius was reasonably certain that the threat of humiliation of would keep them from accusing Remus of attacking them, and if it didn’t, house loyalties be damned, Sirius would tell the truth. He’d also tell the truth if Remus wanted to go to the teachers, but somehow he had the impression that Remus would not. Sirius would probably be spared choosing between standing with his friend and standing with his house—this time at least.
By the time Sirius and Serrault had delivered the two injured students to the hospital wing, lunch period was almost over. Wanting to check on Remus, Sirius ran to the Great Hall faster than he would have dared if he wasn’t reasonably certain all the teachers were at lunch. The last stragglers, including James and Peter, were just coming out when Sirius reached the Hall.
“How’s Remus?” Sirius managed to gasp out before dropping two bookbags, his own and Remus’s, on the floor and leaning forward, hands on his knees, panting for breath.
“What do you mean, ‘How’s Remus?’ He was with you the last time we saw him. And why didn’t either of you make it to lunch?” James demanded.
“Bloody hell,” Sirius muttered. He straightened up to face them. “We had a little run in with some of my housemates when we were leaving Potions.”
“Snape?” Peter asked.
“What’d they do to Remus?” James asked simultaneously.
Sirius shook his head. “Fourth-years, and they didn’t hurt him.” Sirius glanced around at the other students, some of whom weren’t too discrete in their eavesdropping. “Look, I can’t give you details now, but Remus was really upset. He’s fine, but he’s upset. When you see him, tell him I’m sorry. And try to get him to come to our room tonight. I want to apologize in person. I’ve got to go to Defence.”
Sirius was already waiting when James arrived at the secret room after dinner. Sirius jumped to his feet and watched hopefully as James came in, but his face fell when James shook his head and closed the door.
“He isn’t speaking to me, is he?” Sirius sank back down onto the sofa and raked his fingers of one hand through his hair. “Damn bloody Sutherland. Damn bloody Addison. Damn bloody Snape.”
“He never showed up at afternoon classes and he isn’t in Gryffindor Tower either. Peter stayed in the common room in case he comes back,” James explained. “And I thought you said Snape wasn’t there.”
“He wasn’t. Long story.” Sirius dismissed the unimportant details with a shake of his head. “Where could Remus be?”
“I don’t know,” James said in an annoyed voice. “We’ve been worried all afternoon. What happened?”
“Five fourth-years jumped us—bad timing, not planned—and they started saying he shouldn’t hang out with me, and called him ‘a dirty little half-blood’ and ‘an abomination,’ and they started dragging us off somewhere, and—God, James, I don’t know what—” Sirius raked both hands through his hair and kept his head bowed, black tufts of hair between pale fingers at the nape of his neck. When he spoke again, it was nearly a whisper. “They were going to hurt him and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop it.”
For twelve-year-old boys, the unwritten rule was clear: Physical contact must always be very brief and/or be disguised as roughhousing. But some situations just begged for an exception to the “No Touching” rule. James hadn’t spent most of his life being Sirius Black’s best friend without learning that he cared more for his friends’ well being than his own. A failure to protect a friend would have pained him indeed. James put a comforting arm around his friend’s shoulders.
“Who saved him?” James asked when Sirius didn’t volunteer the information.
“He did.” Sirius looked up now with a grin on his face. “You should have seen it, James! He knocked one of them out—Pomfrey said he had a concussion—and he had another by the throat, and—”
The candles suddenly guttered in a draft, and Sirius’s eyes were drawn to the door again. Remus slipped in quietly, watching his friends warily. He allowed the door to close but stayed near it.
“Are they O.K.?” he asked.
“Who?” Sirius asked in confusion.
“The people I hurt when I lost control. Are they going to be O.K.?”
“They’re fine, not that they deserve to be. Are you O.K.?”
Remus nodded. He pulled a wand out of his pocket and tossed it to Sirius. “This belongs to one of them.” He shifted his gaze to James. “Has McGonagall or Dumbledore come looking for me yet?”
“No,” James said. His brow wrinkled in confusion. “Why?”
Remus nodded sadly. “They will. He started to turn for the door, but paused, his eyes fixed on the doorknob. “In case I don’t get another chance to tell you before I have to go, I just wanted to thank you both for being my friends. It meant more to me than you know.”
“What are you talking about?” Sirius jumped off the sofa and grabbed Remus by the sleeve just as he put his hand on the doorknob. “Where are you going? You’re talking like you got expelled or something.”
“Not yet, but I will be.” Remus kept staring at the doorknob rather than meet Sirius’s eyes.
“No way. You were defending yourself, Remus, and I am willing to say so. You won’t get expelled. They might, but you won’t.”
Remus shook his head sadly. “I lost control and injured students. I proved that I’m dangerous. They can’t allow me to stay. I know they can’t.” He finally looked up at Sirius. “You don’t know the whole story, Sirius. If you did, you’d understand.”
“Of course I know the whole story! I was there, remember? No help whatsoever, but there.” Sirius sighed in confusion and looked at James for assistance.
Sirius didn’t understand, but James feared that he was beginning to. “Lost control—proved that I’m dangerous—Remus repelled by wolfsbane but too quiet and calm to be a werewolf—unless he’s just been hiding it—he lost control—knocked out one student and had another by the throat—God, he must be strong.”
“Let him leave, Sirius,” James said with forced calm. Remus stared into James’s eyes. “He knows that I know,” James thought.
“But—”
Remus shouldered past Sirius and left the room. James’s legs suddenly turned to water and he collapsed back onto the sofa that he had been sitting on when Remus came in.
“Those students that Remus overpowered, they were bigger than him?”
“Yeah,” Sirius answered vaguely, still staring at the closed door. “They were fourth-years, why?”
“How many were holding him?”
“Two. Two holding him, two holding me, plus Sutherland giving orders.” Sirius finally abandoned his vigil at the door and sat in an armchair near James.
“He overpowered two students who were larger than him. Doesn’t that strike you as slightly odd, Sirius?”
“Maybe, but I didn’t see how it happened. They were behind me. Maybe one of them tripped or something, I don’t know.”
“Or something,” James agreed. “I don’t like this; I don’t like it at all. I’m actually starting to think Remus, my quiet friend Remus, is a monster. Either I’m the worst friend ever, or I’ve been a blind fool,” he thought. His head was starting to hurt and his stomach didn’t feel much better. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Tell me I’m wrong, Sirius.”
“You’re wrong. About what?”
James grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment out of Sirius’s bookbag. “When has Remus been absent? I need exact dates.”
“Oh gee, let my check my diary,” Sirius said in a falsetto voice as he opened an imaginary book. A quick glare from James told him that his friend was not in the mood for jokes. “Visits home or in the hospital wing?”
“Home—no, wait. That last visit home, he turned out to be in the hospital wing after all, so either one, I guess.”
“Well, like you just said, he was in the hospital when I broke your leg, and that was the last Saturday in April. And he went home to see his mum at the end of February. I remember Peter saying that morbid comment about people who are terminally ill usually dying in winter.”
“He was absent the very first weekend of September. I remember thinking that he must be severely homesick or something. And he missed the Slytherin-Ravenclaw Quidditch match. It was the weekend that everyone got angry because we sat together in Potions. Everyone kept telling me I should go sit with ‘my real house’ and cheer for them.”
“First weekend of December, I think. I can’t remember any others,” Sirius admitted. “I remember his being absent, but not when.”
“He couldn’t come to the New Year’s Party, but that may have been unrelated. Do you have a calendar with you?”
“No. Why? What are you trying to figure out?”
James found that he couldn’t put his accusation into words. It would make his distrust of his friend too real. Instead, he shared the first clue. “Remus wouldn’t go in the greenhouse when wolfsbane was in it.”
Sirius blinked and half-gasped as all the clues added up as quickly in his mind as they had in James’s. He glanced down at the list of dates written by James. “We need a calendar.”
Peter hurried over to James as soon as he entered the Gryffindor common room. “What’s going on?” he demanded quietly. “Remus finally showed up here, but he packed everything into his trunk and now he’s sitting on his bed with the curtains drawn, and when I asked him what was wrong, he said that you’d tell me.”
“Do you have a calendar with the full moons marked on it?” James asked. He wanted his theory confirmed or refuted before he shared it with anyone else.
“I think my calendar has the full moons. It’s upstairs. Do you want me to get it?”
“Upstairs, in our dorm, where Remus is.” James shook his head. “May I borrow a calendar from someone?” James asked the room at large. With exams looming ever closer, it was no surprise to find many students hard at work in the common room.
“Catch,” a third-year student called before tossing an assignment book to James.
“Thanks,” James called to him as he carried the book over to a quiet corner with a couple of empty chairs. Peter settled into the seat across from James and waited tensely while James flipped through the book to certain months and consulted notes on a piece of parchment. He still didn’t know what was going on, but he could sense James’s seriousness of purpose.
“Damn,” James muttered. “I hoped I was wrong.” He looked at Peter’s tense expression and knew it must mirror his own. “C’mon, Sirius is waiting for us in our room.” James led the way out of the portrait hole, returning the calendar as he passed. He knew that Peter had to be dying of curiosity, but to his credit, he refrained from asking any questions as they hurried to the sixth floor corridor.
They found Sirius pacing in front of the fireplace. “Well?” he demanded of James.
James felt his throat tighten as he tried to speak. He nodded. “All five dates matched. He’s—” James licked his lips. “He’s a werewolf.”
“A werewolf!” Peter exclaimed. “Who’s a werewolf?”
Sirius nodded and began pacing again. “Listen. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking while you were gone. None of the teachers know that he was in a fight, and I’m pretty sure it’s going to stay that way. We lied to Madam Pomfrey, and either she believed us, or she’s decided not to call us on the lie. None of the fourth-years want people to know that they were beaten by a first-year, so they’ll keep their mouths shut. We won’t tell, so—”
“What do you mean, ‘We won’t tell’?” James said hotly. “He’s a werewolf!”
“Who?” Peter demanded again.
“Remus!” James said angrily. “Remus is a werewolf, and today he almost killed two people. He lost control of his temper, and he almost killed two students.” He glared at Sirius as he said the last.
“It was self-defence,” Sirius said just as angrily. “I was there, James, not you. He didn’t do anything that wasn’t justified. Would you be happier if they had beaten him bloody? Would you be happier if he were the one lying in a hospital bed?”
Just a few hours ago, when Sirius had first started to tell Peter and James about Remus’s “run-in” with some Slytherins, James had been very afraid that Remus was indeed lying injured in a hospital bed. Just a few hours ago, he had felt immense relief hearing that Remus was spared that. How could he feel differently now?
“Of course not,” James admitted.
“But you’re willing to get him kicked out of school because he dared to defend himself.”
“Oh Merlin,” James sighed as he sank down into a chair and buried his face in his hands. “I’m so confused. Which is the real Remus? The one we considered our friend, or the one who almost killed two people—in self defence,” he added hurriedly so Sirius would not.
“Let’s ask someone,” Peter said quietly. “Someone who would know.”
“Who?”
“Remus,” Sirius replied.
In the end, all three spent the night sleeping on the yellow sofas of their secret room. Peter didn’t want to go back to the dormitory without James, James didn’t want to go back until he knew what he’d say, and Sirius didn’t particularly want to go back to his dormitory at all.
James had not slept well. He blamed it on the unfamiliar “bed,” but he knew that it was more than that. His conscience wasn’t too pleased with him for turning his back on Remus. Although awake, he lay with his eyes closed, waiting for Peter and Sirius to stir. It was a Saturday morning, so there was no need to rush. They had all day to speak to Remus—if he hadn’t already left. He heard the soft footfalls on the carpet at the same moment that he smelled a faint whiff of bacon. He opened his eyes to see a blurry brown-haired form placing something on the coffee table.
“Hi,” James said quietly.
“Hi,” Remus replied just as quietly. The pale blurs that were his hands disappeared into the darkness of his robe. “I was up early, and I thought you guys might want some breakfast.”
“Thanks. Could I have my glasses?”
Remus turned back to the coffee table, picked up the glasses beside the breakfast tray, and handed them to James. “I—um—I already sent my parents an owl and told them that I need to leave. I’ll be out of your dormitory before tonight.” Remus started for the door.
“Wait! We want to talk to you,” James called out as he sat up. He didn’t know what he wanted to say; he didn’t know what he felt. He just knew that he wanted to say something. He glanced over at the other sofas and saw that Sirius and Peter had woken up as well.
Remus sat down in one of the armchairs, but he shook his head. “There’s nothing to say,” Remus said in a hopeless tone as he stared down at the carpet. “You’re afraid of me. You spent all night here instead of our dormitory, didn’t you?”
“No, that was because—” Peter said, but he fell silent when he couldn’t think of a reason.
“Should we be afraid of you?” James asked.
“Yes—maybe—I don’t know.” With each word, Remus’s voice became fainter as he spoke in the direction of his lap. “I try to control my temper, I really do. I have to. I’m dangerous if I don’t.” He raised his chin and a look of fierce pride crossed his face for a moment. “I almost got through the year without losing control, didn’t I?”
“You didn’t lose control,” Sirius said. He had been lying with his head propped up by his elbow, but now he sat up and put his feet on the floor. He leaned forward and stared intently into Remus’s face, trying to make Remus feel the sincerity he was putting into his words. “You protected yourself and me.”
Remus shook his head again. “That’s not how it felt.”
“No? Then let me tell you how it looked. Five students were dragging you off who-knows-where to hurt you, and you did what was necessary, and only what was necessary, to subdue them. You knocked one unconscious but didn’t hurt him any more than that. You pinned another against the wall until we were out of danger, and then you immediately let him go. The three others, you didn’t hurt at all. Sutherland would happily have ordered the others to beat you up, but when you were pointing a wand at him, you allowed him run away. Trust me, I would not have shown the control and restraint that you did.”
“You don’t need to. You’re not strong enough to kill someone with your bare hands, are you?”
“It’s true?” Peter whimpered. “They said that you were a—but you’re so nice and—it’s true?”
“Yeah, Peter, I’m a werewolf.” Remus exhaled deeply as if freeing himself of the secret he had been guarding. His gaze returned to James. “The wolfsbane, right? I knew you noticed.”
James nodded. “Then last night, we checked the dates you were absent against the full moon.” James glanced over at Sirius and made his decision. Sirius may or may not have convinced Remus that he was not out of control yesterday, but he had convinced James. “I’m sorry you had to miss the New Year’s party at my house. I’ll be more careful to schedule things around the full moon from now on.”
“What?”
“Let’s face it, Remus. People who can put up with an obnoxious wanker like Sirius are few and far between. We’d be mad to stop beings friends with you.” Sirius grinned and nodded in agreement. “Peter?”
Peter’s brow was furrowed. “When’s the next full moon, Remus?” he asked.
“A week from tomorrow. It’ll be the last one this term.”
“What happens then? I mean, do you really go home, or—”
Remus shook his head. “No, I stay here. They have someplace safe that I can go. I can’t get out when I’m a wolf, and only a few of the teachers know how to get in. Usually Madam Pomfrey goes with me. Professor McGonagall did a couple of times when Madam Pomfrey was busy. Then in the morning, Madam Pomfrey gets me and I stay in the hospital wing until I’ve recovered.”
“Recovered?”
“Well I’m pretty knackered afterward. The transformation takes a lot out of me. I feel completely drained of energy, like a wrung sponge. And I—do you really want to know any of this? Or do you just want to know that I can’t get loose and hurt someone?”
“We want to know,” Sirius said immediately. He settled down on the floor beside the food and began to eat a cold bacon sandwich.
“If you want to tell us,” James amended.
“I maul myself during the night. The wolf wants to attack someone, and I’m the only one there.” He pushed up his sleeves and revealed numerous scars, some livid and new, some faded and silvery. Now James understood why Remus had always avoided undressing in front of his dorm mates. “Madam Pomfrey’s really good at healing most of my wounds without scars, but sometimes the wounds are just too deep and she can only minimize the scarring. And a lot of these are from when I was younger. My parents had to take care of me themselves, and neither one had much experience in that area. They do now.”
James was momentarily taken aback by Remus’s tone as he explained his scars. He said it all calmly and matter of factly, as it was the most normal thing in the world to maul oneself on a regular basis. “For him, it is,” James realized. James glanced over at Sirius and saw that he had abandoned his sandwich half-eaten.
“Just how badly do you hurt yourself, Remus?” Sirius asked.
Remus smiled sardonically. “Well, I haven’t managed to kill myself—yet.”
Remus was half-awake as his body decided which need was greater: his thirst, or his exhaustion. Muted voices at the far end of the ward were tipping the scales in favour of waking up, and when he heard his own name, he became fully awake. He lifted his head off the pillow and turned toward the voices. One of the curtained partitions around his bed blocked his view.
“—needs privacy and rest.”
“We won’t wake him, we just want to be here when he wakes up.”
“If Remus wants to see you after he wakes up, I’ll send for you.”
“Madam Pomfrey, I’m awake,” Remus called in a hoarse voice. His throat always hurt after the transformation. Everything always hurt after the transformation. “Could my friends visit me please?” Judging by the sounds of running feet, they had not waited for her approval.
He struggled to sit up before they saw him. It was bad enough that the dark hollows under his eyes and cheeks, and the bandages on his arms and legs, would make him look like a partially unwrapped mummy; he didn’t need to look like a helpless invalid too.
“Here you go, Remus,” Sirius said cheerfully as he slipped one arm around Remus’s chest and pulled him up and back against the pillows that he placed upright against the headboard with his other hand. Then Sirius sat at the foot of the bed as if sharing a bed with a corpse-like dark creature was something he did every day.
Peter sat in the chair near Remus’s bed. His worried eyes betrayed that he was concerned about Remus’s appearance. Sirius appeared unfazed, but unlike Peter and James, Sirius had seen Remus on a “day after” once before.
“How do you feel, Remus?” Peter asked worriedly.
“Fine,” Remus lied. He didn’t want to be fussed over and pitied. “Where’s James?”
“Right here,” James answered, and a moment later, he appeared in the gap between two curtains carrying a chair. James considered Remus’s appearance for a moment. “You’re right, Sirius. He does like shit on the day after a full moon.”
Peter’s mouth dropped open in shock at James’s appalling lack of proper bedside manners. Remus, on the other hand, loved it.
“I do believe my exact words were, ‘He looks like death warmed over,’” Sirius corrected.
Remus grinned. “All this flattery will go to my head.”
“What are friends for?” James said with a smile.
On to the Epilogue
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-26 04:25 am (UTC)"Two thoughts ran simultaneously through Sirius’s mind: “Protect Remus,” although he had no idea how to do that, and, “Kill Severus for telling people that Remus’s mum is Muggle-born.”"
Aw, Sirius.
“Madam Pomfrey, I’m awake,” Remus called in a hoarse voice. His throat always hurt after the transformation. Everything always hurt after the transformation. “Could my friends visit me please?” Judging by the sounds of running feet, they had not waited for her approval. "
They came to visit him. That is awesome.
"“Here you go, Remus,” Sirius said cheerfully as he slipped one arm around Remus’s chest and pulled him up and back against the pillows that he placed upright against the headboard with his other hand. Then Sirius sat at the foot of the bed as if sharing a bed with a corpse-like dark creature was something he did every day.
“Right here,” James answered, and a moment later, he appeared in the gap between two curtains carrying a chair. James considered Remus’s appearance for a moment. “You’re right, Sirius. He does like shit on the day after a full moon.”
Peter’s mouth dropped open in shock at James’s appalling lack of proper bedside manners. Remus, on the other hand, loved it.
“I do believe my exact words were, ‘He looks like death warmed over,’” Sirius corrected."
I love Sirius. and James. and Peter with his bedside manners.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-27 01:37 am (UTC)Thanks for reading.