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Remus Lupin was only a mere four years old when he was infected with Lycanthropy. As a toddler, full moons were a complicated time for Hope and John Lupin, especially because caging up a baby in the basement was not their favorite pastime. For Hope, it was a haunting presence month round of guilt for what she would have to do to her boy. For John, it was another task for his peculiar, clearly not normal son who wasn’t all that boyish to begin with.
And Remus, well, Remus handled every single moon the way one would. He would bury his emotions and sadness with the thought, ‘One day I’ll die.’ That seemed to be the only thing that would cheer up the young werewolf. That one day, everything he felt for the world would cease to exist and so would he.
He wasn’t always like this, not quite anyway. When Remus was three, before catching the incurable virus, Remus would play dress up with his mom. Graced in only a white tutu and yellow gardening hat, Remus would strut from one end of his hallway and pose for his mom. She always took pictures. His bare chest, all chubby with baby fat, would swing back and forth with every move of his tiny legs. Remus was once happy.
And then he wasn’t. And it wasn’t his fault that life dealt him a crappy hand. That just meant that he was going to have to learn to play the Joker when others had an Ace. And he was fine with that. Well, he wasn’t really, but this wasn’t just a game. This was his life. So he’d have to stick out the crappy hand he got.
The one person who truly seemed to struggle with Remus’ cards was the werewolf’s father, which is ironic because this was his fault. It was his stupid, ignorant comment in a court case that had sent Fenrir Greyback seeking vengeance on John and get Remus instead. But no matter, John Lupin always had something to say about what Remus was doing.
The year before Remus was going to attend Hogwarts, his father began classes to teach the boy about how to seem normal. Everyday for 5 hours, John would teach Remus on how to avoid other students, how to cover his trail on days with full moons, and most importantly- a series of spells used to glamour his body and cover his scars. A ten year old was being taught illegal magic and spells- spells even complicated for the most skilled wizards, and teaching a child was extremely dangerous. His father didn’t care. Because John was an attorney for the Ministry, he covered Remus’ tracks and traces on his wand, and Remus learned more and more complicated spells until there were no scars left to show. Except the ones on his chest.
Gracing the young Remus’ chest was a huge collage of bite marks from Greyback. Everyone knew that the original bites that infect the victim with Lycanthropy can’t be glamoured, but it was Remus’ poor luck that he was bitten roughly twenty times. His chest was a mix of scar tissue rising up and twisted silver lines of magic from where his father had tried to burn the scars off. So Remus always wore a shirt.
Until he met James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew. His first months at Hogwarts, Remus had managed to follow his fathers orders of making sure he had no friends. Remus would sneak away on free time and practically lived in the library, along with sitting in the back of every class, despite his poor eyesight. He wouldn’t go to his room until it was after curfew; Remus had started finding hiding places around the school to avoid teachers and students until after curfew. He stuck to his fathers plan. But his father didn’t account for James, Sirius, and Peter.
It was just Remus’ poor luck that his favorite hiding spot, a secret tunnel not too far from Gryffindor’s common room, had been discovered. And by his three roommates. When Remus couldn’t bear the feelings of the glamour he was forced to wear, he would run to his tiny haven to shuck his shirt and remove all his glamour. His eyes would turn slightly amber and his scars finally showed on his skin. They showed everywhere. And so when he was finally at his most comfortable, of course it was then that James, Sirius, and Peter all bust into the tiny room.
The three boys, all gasping for air like they had just run a marathon, finally realized that they were not alone. Instead, their illusive, mystery roommate who was covered in enough scars to look like he had been murdered in a past life stood frozen with amber eyes that shone like the moon.
“Bloody fuck mate- I haven’t seen you once this year!”, James yelped, still taking in Remus’ scars. “Why are you shirtless and why are your eyes yellow?”
That sent Remus out of his frozen place, suddenly panicking because he was on display for three other boys judgmental eyes. He turned around and grabbed a shirt, yanking it over his body. He then took hold of his wand and started yelling glamour spells as fast as he could, not caring that the pace at which he was yelling them was burning his skin until tears came out of his eyes. James rushed forwards, snatching Remus’ wand as Sirius ran over and grabbed Remus’ hands. Remus’ once again realized he was about to have to accept the violence of people who wouldn’t understand.
He braced for a punch. With one of his roommates pinning his arms back and another with his wand, he expected the worst. What he didn’t expect was Peter Pettigrew to run up and throw his arms around his middle.
Sirius let go of his hands. “Mate, I don’t know what happened to you, but I know is that you were just yelling crazy spells.”
Remus huffed our a sigh, trying to dry his eyes with his hands even though Peter still hadn’t let go of him. “Please let go Peter.” Peter took a step back but didn’t move more than a foot away. Remus sighed again. “I’ll just be going.”
Peter blocked Remus. “No you don’t. You don’t just get to leave when we just found you saying spells so complicated that you hurt yourself by mistake.”
“Look, I understand what you saw probably made you think I’m even more of a freak than before, so please let me go.” Remus was desperate, he felt like a caged animal in the zoo with eyes focused on his every move.
Before anyone could respond, Sirius stepped forward and reached his hand forward. He grazed his thumb across the scar directly across Remus’ nose, the one scar Remus hasn’t managed to cover up yet. Remus’ breathe hitched.
“Look, you don’t have to tell us what happened,” Sirius started, “but please know that we won’t tell anyone and we want to be your friend. You don’t have to run. It’d be better for all of us if we were friends with you, to have a cool, edgy roommate.”
Remus gasped, his eyes wide. He could have friends. Friends who don’t care that his eyes were amber and his body lined inside scars. Friends that would stop him from accidentally hurting himself when he didn’t have to. So instead of running, Remus threw his arms around Sirius’ waist. Sirius immediately hugged back and didn’t pull away when James and Peter joined.
That hug between four individual people became the tie that created one, undivided group. The Marauders. For the next six years of Remus’ life, he was put in a completely new, supportive relationship. One that he never thought he would have.
During those years, Remus changed as a person. He found himself gaining a new confidence, the support and love from those three boys clearly was rubbing off on him. He eventually told them about his furry little secret and was shocked to see the Marauders dynamic didn’t change at all. His most drastic change during the years was how he began to remove his glamour.
He had a schedule for removing the glamour, one that the other three boys had created to be discreet so nobody would notice as the scars began to appear. Every two weeks, a new scar was revealed until all the glamour was gone. If anyone did question his scars, Sirius or James made up a bullshit lie and McGonagall or Dumbledore would confirm it. Not having to worry about covering his scars or hurting himself covering them up became one of the tipping points in beginning to love himself.
All that growth and strength in mind, it was no wonder that Remus stopped putting up with bullshit. Any harsh look at him resulted in a glare that could kill in return. Any hateful word was shut down immediately by a stronger one back. Remus didn’t have to worry about physical threats since he was 6'4" and had finally gained some muscle. The only person who made Remus feel inferior was out of his life, even if it hurt a bit.
Remus' dad had finally kicked Remus out of the house after realizing he wouldn’t be hiding his scars anymore. That was a tipping point for his father, and Remus realized all his life he had been consumed by insecurity that was put there by his father. So with a strength that had been discovered in his past six years with the Marauders, he was off.
It was dark out and especially cold when Remus arrived at Grimmauld Place. James was in India visiting his family and Peter didn’t have any spare room in his house, so Sirius' house was the only option. Remus knew the history of the Blacks, but he figured that as a guest, he would be safe until he could get a plan. So he mustered up the courage it took to knock on the door.
It immediately flew open. Sirius Black stood there, in all his glory, breathing heavily as though he had run a mile. He probably had gotten into an argument with his family that was so heated that he had no air, but to anyone who didn’t know him, he seemed like he had just been working out. Remus knew him. And how shocked Sirius seemed to be to see Remus on the doorstep. Sirius suddenly grinned.
"Moony!" Sirius threw his arms around Remus, knocking over the tall boy who was not expecting that grand of a hug. "What are you doing here?"
Remus rubbed his neck, trying to phrase the desperate need for a roof over his head in a delicate way. "I’ve been kicked out?"
Before Remus could continue, Sirius had grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside the house. Remus stumbled.
Sirius turned abruptly, eyes glowing almost silver. "You’ve been what?"
Remus looked him in the eyes. "I’ve been thrown out, but I just need a place to stay for a day, two at the maximum. I just need time to hatch out a plan for a new home."
Sirius breathed out a long breath. "Stay here as long as you need."
So Remus did. He knew that he needed approximately 100 more galleons before he could put down a deposit on a flat in Muggle London, so he stayed with Sirius.
This was a complicated ordeal, especially having to deal with the rest of the family every day. Sirius had managed to convince the Black family that Remus was part of a noble pureblood family in the mountains of France and that Remus was simply scarred because he had killed a dragon. The lie surprisingly went over the families heads, except one person. Regulus. Regulus hadn’t said a word which was surprising, especially considering his 'mama's boy' standpoint. Until he did.
It should be considered that Remus Lupin responded the way he did because he had a pent up frustration for anyone who made him feel less than, but this was a new level for him. Remus had woken up to the sound of yelling and immediately went downstairs to check it out. Little did he know that the issue was because of him. He stopped just behind the doorway in order to eavesdrop without anyone seeing him.
"Look you piece of garbage, slime, filth, muck, I figured out your friend isn’t pureblood! I also know that he’s a werewolf. Regulus told me." Walburga was getting heated, fast.
"Then you should know that he has more courage then you, you bitch!"
A loud slap resonated through the walls of the house, louder than any noise Remus had heard in a while. "That ought to teach you something, you spoiled child. You hang out with the filth, the ugly low creatures. And you are one, too." The sound of heels clicked off until they had to be in another room.
Remus ran into the room and saw Sirius standing there holding his cheek. Remus pulled him upstairs, lacing their fingers together as they bolted up the stairs before Walburga could return. As soon as they were in the room, Remus slammed the door and locked it.
Sirius let out a breath he had been holding. "Remus, you know those things she said about you aren’t true." Of course Sirius was worried about him, even when Sirius had just gotten the life smacked out of him. Remus nodded.
"Honestly, I like how I look and know I’m not ugly. Are you okay?" Sirius nodded. "Good." Then Remus pulled off his shirt.
Sirius' eyes bulged and he turned away. "What are you doing Moony?"
"I’m showing that I love myself. I always wear a shirt to cover up these scars. I’m done." Sirius turned back to look at Remus' chest. He had a small smile now.
"Can I touch your scars?" Remus hesitated, but nodded. Sirius couldn’t hurt him.
Sirius reached his hand forward slowly, almost as though he was going to be burned the moment he touched Remus, and then his hands were on Remus' chest. Sirius' fingers slowly traced patterns on the skin, the raised parts and the indentions all over. Those fingers painted a masterpiece of imagined color on the portrait that was Remus. Finally, Sirius' hands traveled up past the collarbones, towards the nape of Remus' neck, and finally holding the back of the neck. Remus leaned into the hand.
Remus became acutely aware of how close Sirius had gotten, his face mere centimeters away from the other boy. Remus puffed out a breath and felt it mix with Sirius' own, eyes locked together and the stare penetrating. Slowly, Remus tilted his head until their foreheads were pressed together, and then their lips.
Kissing Sirius was nerve wracking, but it was still the Sirius who helped teach him to be brave. So he peppered kisses along Sirius' lips, no doubt present. Sirius' lips were soft, smooth even which was surprising, especially for a boy who was so rash and spent so much time outside.
When they broke apart, Sirius' hands were still on Remus' chest, still slowly sliding as if mapping the territory. Remus knew that even when they left this locked room, Sirius' would still map the territory, still pepper kisses along his lips. That was the only motivation that kept Remus strong as he stood up.
"I’m going to walk through this house, and I’m going to leave my shirt off because I look good without it. Then I’m going to leave this house forever, maybe go stay with James, I don’t know." He peered at Sirius' eyes. There was no doubt. "Are you coming with me?"
Sirius nodded, and laced their fingers together. Remus put all his belongings back into his bag, Sirius doing the same, and they unlocked the door. As Remus walked down the hallway, hand in hand with Sirius, he saw Walburga, who immediately started screaming at the both of them. Words that were meant to tear down Remus' confidence that he had built up, words to make him feel less than, words that would’ve pained him once now rolled off him like water.
So as he and Sirius walked out the door and out into the street, no idea where they were heading and Remus still shirtless despite the cold weather, he still didn’t feel less than. Instead, he realized that he still had the Joker in his hand, and yet somehow, he managed to beat the Ace.