Chapter Text
Remus was angry. He didn't think that he had ever been as angry in his entire life. He had been far too young when he had been bitten to ever be angry with Greyback. He had only known fear. By the time he had learnt the truth as to why Greyback had bitten him in the first place, it had seemed too late to be worth holding any anger towards his father. He had seen how he had suffered in the years since.
But Remus held on to his anger now. Anger at the one person above all others he had thought would never betray him. The one person to whom he had bore his soul and seen his own self reflected back at him, one and the same. The one person he had trusted above all others.
Sirius Black had taken that trust and broken it beyond repair. Trampled it into the dirt and twisted its mangled remains until they were unrecognisable. He had taken his secrets, promised to hold them close to his heart until the day he died, and then he had given them freely to the person who most had it out for him.
Remus couldn't bear to look at him. To feel his heart tear in two every time he was forced to be in the same room, to breathe the same air as him.
He had taken to escaping the common room as often as he could. When he didn't have his prefect duties he would stay in the library until Madam Pince chased him out. He’d wander the corridors until it was so late the portraits would give him an earful, and not even a flash of his prefect’s badge would save him from a year’s worth of detentions.
Tonight, he had taken the Map and made his way up to the astronomy tower. He’d brought the Map with him everywhere he went in the two weeks since the full moon. Initially, this had been because he’d wanted to use it to avoid Filch and the teachers but he found that he had been unable to look at it. He didn't want to know where Sirius was, to see his little dot in the common room or their dormitory, surrounded by their friends. Now, he just took it so that he wouldn’t be followed.
A noise beside him told him that it hadn't made a difference. Remus didn't bother to wipe away the tears streaming down his face as James slid down the wall to sit on the floor next to him.
The invisibility cloak pooled around James’ feet. Remus reached a hand out slowly from where he was holding his knees close to his chest and felt the familiar fabric between his thumb and forefinger. It was cool to the touch, and brought with it a momentary feeling of peace.
They sat in silence as the minutes passed by. Remus wasn't sure how long it was before he finally spoke.
“I hate him, James.”
“I know.”
“I can’t go back to the dorm. Not yet.”
“Okay.”
“I just- I can’t just sit there and watch him be fine,” he admits.
“Remus, he’s not fine-” James starts.
“No! No James,” Remus interrupts. “I don't want to hear about how he's suffering either. I don't want to sit here and listen to you defend him.” He sits up and turns to James, familiar anger filling his veins.
“Oh poor Padfoot, he made a mistake. It's not his fault, you know what his family is like,” he continues, pitching his voice up, James’ eyes widening at the sudden outburst. Remus had hardly said two words to anyone since the meeting the morning after the full moon. Dumbledore and McGonagall had pulled James, Remus, Sirius, and Snape into his office to find out what had happened, and to make sure nobody spoke a word of it to anyone. Snape had been sworn to secrecy and Sirius was given a record breaking number of detentions to go along with the talking down of his life. But even then Remus had been withdrawn into himself, not able to look anyone in the eye.
But now a dam seemed to have opened.
“Fuck. That. It's bad enough listening to Peter tell me he isn't choosing sides, as if being neutral can give him some kind of moral high ground. But how can he be fucking neutral in this, James? He’s meant to be my friend.” Suddenly the anger he has been wearing like a second skin for weeks now makes way for the soul deep sadness that has made its home in his bones. “He was my friend.”
The tears are falling freely down his face again and he knows they are not for Peter.
James turns towards him too, so that they are sitting with their knees together. It reminds Remus of their first year at Hogwarts, those first nights after being thrown together in their dorm room. The four boys would pair off, taking it in turns to learn as much about each other as they possibly could and committing it all to memory. He tries not to think of the parts of one of the three that have etched themselves into his heart.
James takes his hands in his now, absentmindedly rubbing circles into Remus’ palms with his thumbs, something he knows James has picked up from his father.
“He isn't there, Moons,” James says softly. “He spends less time in the common room than you do at the minute, and he hasn’t slept in the dorm for weeks.”
“Where…?”
“I don't know where he’s been going. But I think he’s been sleeping as a dog in one of the tunnels. Or maybe the forest. I haven’t asked him.”
“He’s probably off with his new friend Snape,” Remus mutters. He doesn't much want to think about where he might be spending his nights.
James snorts at that. “Not likely. Evans tried to give him a detention the other day for going after Snape, but he’s already in detention until the end of the year.”
“He’s still going after Snape?” There’s fear in Remus’ voice again now. Idly, Remus wonders how long it will be until he feels something other than anger, sadness, or fear. “Even though he knows about me?”
“Snape isn’t saying anything. Dumbledore had made it clear what will happen to him if he ever opens his mouth.”
“But if Sirius keeps pushing him…”
“He’ll keep his mouth shut. And I’ve put an end to Black’s stupidity as well,” James says darkly.
A part of Remus jolts to hear James use Sirius’ family name with such venom. That was usually reserved for his parents and cousins.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ve made it clear to him that while my parents may have given him a place in their home if he ever does anything to push Snape to break his silence or put you in any kind of danger again, then that place will no longer be there for him.”
“James…”
“If he is going to act like a Black then he can go back to them. I am sure there will be a place for him if he keeps going the way he has been.” James paused for a moment before continuing. “I know that it might not have seemed like it in the past, but you mean as much to me as he does.”
Remus is crying again. Before he knows what his body is doing he is leaning forwards. His hand leaves James’ and makes its way to the back of his neck, pulling him to meet him. He closes his eyes and their lips meet.
The kiss is a brutal, angry thing. James’s lips part for Remus’ tongue, but as his other hand moves for James’ waist he takes ahold of each of his wrists and pulls away.
The moment their lips part Remus recognises another emotion he has become all too familiar with since the full moon: shame. He had never been ashamed of what he was before. Never hated the wolf. It’s all he’s ever been, all he’d ever know himself as. But Sirius had tried to use what he was, use it to hurt Snape. Maybe to kill him. Sirius had not seen him for who he was, but what he was, and how he could be used. Remus had learnt to hate himself for it.
That shame pools deep in his gut now, as he realises he may have just pushed away the only friend he has left.
Before James can say anything Remus breaks down. The floodgates are opened. What had until now been a silent stream of tears, have become a raging flood. Sobs heave their way through him as James pulls him into his embrace. Remus is too overwhelmed to resist as he is pulled in, and he cries into James’ chest, clutching him closer.
“I’m sorry,” he cries. “Please don't go.”
“I know, Moons, I know. I’m not going anywhere,” James soothes, rubbing circles into his back.
They stay like that for what feels like either minutes or hours, until Remus’ sobs have subsided.
“I’m sorry James,” he says quietly into his chest.
“It's okay Moons.”
“I’m just so angry,” he admits. “I don’t know what to do with all of it.”
“Me too. I never knew I could be so angry at a person. Let alone…”
They’re quiet for another moment. Remus shifts from his uncomfortable position cradled against James’ chest, to rest his head on his shoulder instead.
“I still love him. I don’t know what to do with that either.”
“I don't have an answer for that Remus. All I feel is anger.”
“He’s still your brother James.”
“I know. So are you.”
“It's different though.”
James has no answer for that either, it seems.