Chapter Text
Remus now spent his days more ghostlike than any of the spirits or phantoms that haunted the halls of this old school. Everything that had once enchanted him about the ancient magic and the hidden world that worked entwined in his life now completely reviled him. So he stopped going to classes. He stopped going to the Great Hall for meals, instead scrounging anything from the kitchens and shut down any attempt at conversation with anybody. Remus had found his new retreat, and was happy there, at least happy in a way only he could define. Those who loved him pitied this new ‘happiness.’ With a stale piece of toast in his hand, he climbed up the Astronomy Tower and took his place as the new ghost in Soren’s room.
A lot of his time was spent meditating on the nature of werewolves and before long he completely understood his parents’ apprehension in sending him to Hogwarts. Long shadows appeared as evening drew in, and this small boy finally cracked. Pale and bleary, he began to cry and pressed his face into his sleeves to muffle any of his pathetic little cries. When all that was left was a heavy blanket of grief and wretchedness on his soul, he stood up. For a moment he seriously considered breaking his wand into a million tiny pieces but instead he dragged his feet to the door and drifted through the halls with no real mission at all. Portraits and statues and grand fixtures had no magic at all, any passing comment was not listened to enough to shrug off. The whole world was sluggish and Remus was bogged down by the whole horrid thing. His instincts had taken him to the Great Hall, where reality sunk in a little as he spied Sirius and James with their trademark mischievous smiles. Peter was far too busy scoffing his face to notice they were magically giving him pigtails. It was nice that they were happy. Remus felt his eyes water again. He turned away from the door, aware more than ever of his hunger, his loneliness, and the complete lack of space for him in this world. It felt like he had shrunk so badly that there was nothing left for him to shrink into.
“Mr Lupin,” the familiar soft voice sounded. He hadn’t noticed her coming, or maybe he had but no longer cared. Remus couldn’t meet her eyes. He knew they would be full of a kindness he didn’t deserve. “Come, come.” She said and he knew it was a command.
When they arrived at Professor McGonagall’s office, Remus was hit by a wave of happier memories. The fire still crackled, the food smelled better than ever. It made him homesick, but for something he never really had. He automatically sat down and brought himself to look at her face just briefly enough to gauge what kind of conversation this would be. She looked tired, and a little fed up. Who could blame her? Remus knew Sirius and James were probably keeping her on her toes.
“You look like a ghost.”
“I want to go home.” He blinked, anxiously rubbing his hands together and staring down at the slightly chipped corners of her desk.
“No doubt.” She nodded and peered down her nose to inspect him fully. “You need to eat something, dear boy.”
Without protest, he reached for a chocolate biscuit.
“I’m afraid you can’t go home, Remus,” she said more in a dejected whisper, “Your father has now insisted you stay at school until a local inquiry into werewolves is completed.”
Remus recoiled at the word and said without thought but in complete truth, “Then I want to die.”
McGonagall’s breath hitched but she remained steady. “Then everyone has failed you.”
“No. I’m a lost cause.”
“I feared you would be led to these conclusions,” she said quickly and pressed some more chocolate into his hands, “but it is natural that such an event would have such strong effects on a young mind. Remus, shall we talk about it?”
“What is there to say?” He mumbled and his already pale skin took on a sickly sheen as a flash of a memory struck like a shard of glass in his mind.
“Whatever you want.” She nodded firmly.
“I saw Greyback. He killed Soren. Slowly. I saw him…go.”
“You were brave beyond words. A boy of eleven seeing and hearing all of that and returning a poor soul’s body home. It is unspeakable that it happened that way. But you have been hiding for too long now, dear. All of those books aren’t going to help you.”
“Books.” Remus repeated with a raised eyebrow. His depressing adventures as a ghost had clearly been watched for her to know that. He had spent hours each day pouring over anything and everything related to werewolves, and how to kill them. “Portraits?”
“Yes. They’ve been keeping an eye for me. I was waiting for you to be ready to talk. I was surprised but delighted to spy you at the door this
evening.”
“Hm.” He grunted. This conversation was more than he had endured with anyone in weeks. It was draining.
“Dumbledore is sealing off Soren’s room. It’s not healthy to brood there forever. But you can take what you wish. I'm sure he would have liked it that way.”
It was a punch to the gut but he ought to have expected. He nodded shortly, as if in indescribable pain.
“Your friends have asked each and every day about you.”
He batted away happy memories like irritating flies. That life must now be locked to him. “What did you say?”
“That you were ill.”
“Again.” He hummed and nodded. “Better than the truth, isn’t it?” Remus flashed a dejected and weary grin.
“They will want to see you.” She prompted.
“I can’t.” He groaned and buried his head in his arms against her desk. All she could see was the mousy flop of hair covering the world weary child. McGonagall reached a tentative hand forward and gave him a small pat on the head.
“You were doing so well,” she lamented softly, “and we can get back to better than before. This will pass. I will help you. I promise.”
Remus lifted his head up slowly to meet her gaze sincerely. If she weren’t so strong a figure she would have flinched. This child looked more world weary and battered than any other human she had ever known.
“I’m tired.”
“Let’s return to your dorm, then. I will tell the others to leave you in peace.”
Remus mumbled neither in agreement or refusal. He was beginning to realise this world left him no choices.