Chapter Text
Remus woke up with a jolt, hissing in pain. And then when he spotted James and Peter standing at the side of his bed, eyes blown wide, Remus felt his heart snap.
“What happened?” he asked, voice rough against his throat.
“Remus,” James started, him and Peter sharing a look that made Remus want to tear their heads off. Fingers stretching out slowly, he grabbed fistfuls of the blanket, pushing his aching body up so he was sitting straight. “Before I-before you know- you’ve just got to- he’s so fucking sorry, mate,” James managed to get out, tripping over his words.
“What happened?” Remus demanded, sounding more desperate than he meant.
“Moony,” Pete said with a start. “You’re bleeding.” He reached out, fingers grazing Remus’ arm. “We should get Madam-”
“I swear to Merlin if you make me ask one more fucking time,” he choked out, shoving Peter’s arm away from him. James and Peter glanced over to each other again, the latter’s face paling and the former swearing under his breath before he turned back to Remus and said, as if the words were being punched out of him, “Sirius fucked up.”
Body going stiff, Remus fell back against the headboard with a thud. “But he’s sorry,” James started, familiar excuses desperately falling from his tongue as he gripped onto Remus’ bed, as if he could climb up onto it and shake the forgiveness out of him. Remus didn’t even know what Sirius had done, and James was already trying to cover for him.
He’d heard all the excuses before, Merlin, he’d been the one to list them off so many times before. But they were always directed towards McGonagall or Slughorn or some fourth year that Sirius had hexed on a whim.
Never towards him.
“What’d he do?” Remus whispered, voice not sounding like his own. It almost came out as a howl, aching and pained.
“He wasn’t thinking-”
“The fuck did he do?” Remus cut James off, yelling as he grabbed onto James’ shoulders. The other boy’s mouth opened and closed, brown eyes big and terrified.
“He told Snape.”
Remus’ attention snapped towards Peter, who was looking like he might start crying. Blinking, Remus’ fingers involuntarily tightened around James’ shirt, breathing hitching. Neither of them said anything, James watching Remus like he was scared he would fall to pieces, and Remus desperately trying to not let that happen.
“He told Snape,” he repeated slowly because the words just didn’t fit together. But James and Peter were nodding as if they made sense.
“He told him about the Willow,” Peter continued, and the words sounded poisonous in the air. “About how to get in.”
“No one got hurt,” James said quickly, and Remus’ hands fell away from him. “Sirius shat it and told us. We stopped Snape from getting too close to…” His words trailed off, throat bobbing anxiously.
“To me,” Remus finished his sentence. “He saw me.” It wasn’t a question, but Peter nodded anyway, face apologetic. Remus screwed his eyes shut, burying his face in his hands. “Leave,” Remus said, word muffled. When he didn’t hear any movement, he just knew Peter and James were exchanging that same fucking look between each other, and that made him want to do something stupid like clock their lights out.
“Please?” he pleaded, refusing to move his hands away from his face. “Just go away.”
“Okay Remus. We’ll see you back in the room tonight.” He heard James say, and then he felt Peter’s hand on his shoulder give a little squeeze before it fell away. That was somehow worse, and Remus really just wanted to ask them for a hug. But he didn’t.
He let them walk away, and when he heard the heavy door to the infirmary shut with a soft thud, he leapt out of his bed, sheets strewn all over the wooden floor, and made it to the bathroom before he was puking all of his guts out. His knees ached against the tiled floor, head feeling heavy as he threw up until the silent tears were drying on his jaw.
Madam Pomfrey found him there later, helping him up to his feet like he was twelve years old again and led him back to the bed. “Oh pet,” she said softly, brushing back his hair with a kind smile. “I don’t think you should go to class today.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugged, turning over onto his side, unable to bare her pitying looks anymore. “Exams finished three days ago.” She didn’t say anything to that, placing a glass of water beside him and turning to leave. “Can I stay here tonight?” he asked, voice breaking. “I don’t feel well.”
“Alright, Remus,” she nodded, hovering for a moment. Panic gripped him for a second, as he thought she might do something painful like try and give an excuse for what Sirius had done or tell him some bullshit about how forgiveness is healing or something. But she just ended up walking away, pulling shut the curtain around his bed.
Dumbledore visited him, and he did try and spout the forgiveness bullshit. He didn’t do it as well as Remus knew Madam Pomfrey would have. But it didn’t matter. Because he’d decided as soon as he’d realised what had happened that he was not forgiving Sirius Black. He was never going to forgive Sirius Black for what he’d done.
He’d rather drown himself in the Great Lake.
Or maybe he’d drown Sirius.
That was how he spent his time in the Hospital Wing. Sitting up in bed, knees drawn to his chest, picking at the fraying thread of his jumper, and daydreaming about how he would kill Sirius Black.
He thought about dunking a head of black locks into a cauldron. Thought about wrapping his scarred fingers around a pale, untouched throat. Thought about using every spell he could possibly think of. Thought about tearing him apart, long limb by long limb as a wolf. As he sat there that first night, watching the moon and the traitorous blinking stars around it, he swore he could taste blood in his mouth.
Madam Pomfrey kicked him out after that night, telling him it wasn’t healthy to lock himself up in her infirmary, and she wasn’t going to allow it. So, he found himself walking to McGonagall’s office, ignoring the looks he got from students as he passed through the corridors.
He wasn’t wearing his uniform, because he absolutely refused to walk back into that dorm room to get it, but he felt like an idiot traipsing through the halls of Hogwarts in his normal clothes. Crimson brushed across his face as he passed a group of girls that burst into giggles when he looked over at them. Merlin, why did McGonagall’s office have to be on the other fucking side of the castle.
Keeping his head down, Remus continued forward, working his mind through his list of best ways to murder his ex-best friend when something almost impaled through his eye. He stopped with a start, lips parting as he stared at the dart that had embedded itself in the wall right beside him.
A grating laugh sounded to his right, and as Remus turned to see who it was, he couldn’t stop the exasperated sigh from escaping his lips. Someone really had it out for him.
Barty Crouch was stood in front of him, a hand full of darts and a grin plastered over his face. Crouch was a good looking guy, with nice brown hair and a broad jaw. Remus heard everything about him from the girls in his study groups, dreaming about Crouch as they twirled their hair around their fingers. Remus had never seen it. Because while he had a smile that made knees weak, the glint behind his eyes was too unhinged for Remus’ liking.
A pretty smile didn’t make up for the blood that always seemed to be streaked across the boy’s knuckles, or the grimy glint in his eyes whenever a girl walked past him. And Remus had never understood how people could be into a guy with a first name like fucking Barty.
“Alright, Lupin?” Barty grinned, throwing a dart up in the air before he caught it.
Remus narrowed his eyes as another boy came up behind Barty, cocking his head and clicking his tongue. “I like your jumper,” Evan Rosier said slowly, a lazy smile painting his whole face. “Very proletariat,” he added, dark eyes scanning Remus, as if he was looking for something. It made Remus’ skin crawl.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Remus finally asked, accidentally managing to sound more curious than pissed off. “You could’ve taken my eye out,” he snarled, gesturing to the dart buried in the tapestry beside his head.
“We’d never do something like that,” Crouch said, full of mock innocence as he held his hands to his chest.
“Never,” Rosier repeated, draping his arms over Crouch’s shoulder. Merlin, was he like Crouch’s creepy shadow or what?
“Says the guys known for torturing innocent first years,” Remus snapped, a rage flickering up his chest at the way Rosier and Crouch were looking at him. Like he was something to be looked at. He could see the cruel curiosity in their eyes as they took in the scars crisscrossing over his neck, the amusement in the way the corners of Crouch’s lips tucked up.
“Says the guy who’s friends with Sirius Black and James Potter. If anyone’s the resident tormentors at Hogwarts, it’s them.” Remus followed Crouch and Rosier’s line of sight to find Regulus Black sitting on the windowsill beside them, thumbing through a ratty book, pages torn, and corners folded over. Frankenstein. What was Regulus Black doing, reading a Muggle book?
He didn’t even look up as he spoke, and if Regulus’ accent wasn’t woven into Remus’ own throat, he wouldn’t have been sure he’d even spoken at all.
“I’m not…” Remus trailed off when that seemed to surprise Regulus, the younger boy looking away from his book in something that looked like a vague interest.
“Not what?” Regulus asked, grey eyes like smoke under glass. They were so similar to Sirius’ that Remus felt his stomach clench, knots tied in his body.
“I’m not their friend,” Remus said, surprising himself at the finality of it all. Rosier and Crouch scoffed, the taller one rolling his eyes as he went back to firing darts at the wall. Remus ducked, quickly moving out of his way before he really did get his eye taken out.
“You’re not going to tell them to stop?” Regulus asked, stopping Remus before he took off in the direction of McGonagall’s office. The younger boy pointed towards his friends, slowly closing his book. Remus shrugged, watching as Crouch and Rosier took it in turns to fly the darts through the air.
“I don’t really care what you and your friends do. Not my problem,” he said before he turned on his heels and left, not really interested in anything else Regulus had to say to him. He’d had his full of irritating, cruel Black behaviour for the rest of his fucking life.
After finally reaching McGonagall’s office, Remus had to face the fact that it had been for nothing. His Head of House tried to appease him by letting him know Sirius had been kicked off of the Gryffindor quidditch team, and she told him as if Remus should give a fuck about that. As if it should make him happy or make up for the fact that Sirius had betrayed him. Make up for the fact that Sirius had tried to make him a murderer.
He wasn’t allowed to leave Hogwarts. He wasn’t allowed to switch dorms. Wasn’t allowed fucking anything.
He was barely allowed the option to refuse getting parents involved in it all. For a moment, he considered it. He thought of Sirius sitting in Dumbledore’s office, his parents behind him. Rageful and disappointed, he imagined the look on their faces as the Headmaster explained the situation. Explained the monstrous, unforgivable sin their son had committed.
Remus wondered if Sirius’ parents had the same list in their heads as Remus did.
So, he shook his head when McGonagall asked him if he wanted everyone who was involved parents to be informed. “What would be the point?” he said with a shrug, eyes trained on the tea that had been set in front of him. It was still warm, the steam slowly drifting off of it.
Sirius’ parents would probably congratulate him anyway. Almost getting a seventeen-year-old boy killed by a dark creature? Merlin, that was probably better than an outstanding in every exam for the Black family. Remus would probably push Sirius back into the welcoming arms of his parents if they got involved.
And it would only serve himself to be even more shunned by his werewolf hating father. He could imagine Lyall Lupin’s reaction to it all. The familiar disappointment very badly hidden by a grimacing smile that was more of a repulsed cringe than anything.
“So,” Remus nodded slowly, face flat as he watched McGonagall’s normally stern face morph into a sadness that made him uncomfortable. Why was everyone around him sad about this? Why were they expecting him to be sad?
He was fucking angry. So angry that his chest felt on fire. He felt like his anger was devouring him, killing him quickly. He was angry that it had happened, and he’d had no say in it. Couldn’t stop it, couldn’t do anything because he had to surrender who he was to a fucking wolf every month of his life.
And he’d chosen to surrender that part of himself to his best friends, his family. And Sirius had stabbed him in the fucking back. Merlin, he was so fucking sick of all of it.
“I have to share a room with him.”
“Mr Lupin, if we changed the sleeping arrangements, there would be questions. You know there would be questions raised.”
“So let them raise them!” Remus yelled, fingers screwed into his sleeves, the wool scratching and tearing at his skin. He’d tried so hard. He’d finally just gotten the hang of it all. Having mates. Being a fucking dark creature. Writing essays and making potions and studying around other people. He’d just gotten the hang at living in the skin he’d been given, the skin he’d been forced into. He’d just started liking it.
And Sirius Black had taken all of that away from him.
“I’m sorry Mr Lupin,” McGonagall said, and the kindness in her voice, the absolute refusal to meet his level just set the fire in his chest ablaze. “I can’t imagine how you’re feeling,” she said, biting her bottom lip and leaning forward in her own seat, frail arms resting on her desk.
“Mr Black is being severly punished for what he’s done. He’s been removed from the quidditch team,” she said again. Why did everyone at this fucking school act as if quidditch was the most important thing in the world? Fucking hell, Remus would rather the bastard be kept on the team and get a bludger to his thick skull.
“He has personal detention with me for the rest of the year,” she continued. As if that meant anything, there was only five weeks left of this hellhole.
“And he’s lost a hundred points for Gryffindor,” she finished. Remus didn’t feel the need to point out that he was also in Gryffindor, but really that was as much a loss for him as it was for Sirius.
“Whatever,” he said with a sigh, the chair legs scraping horribly against the stone floor as he stood up.
“Remus,” McGonagall started. He paused, the way she said his name sounded so sad, so pitiful. It made him feel weirdly small as his Head of House looked at him, as if she was looking for something, searching for something. Just like Rosier had. She clearly didn’t find it, settling back in her chair with a sad smile, barely reaching her eyes.
“You can talk to me whenever you want,” she said. “Whenever you need.”
He nodded as he left her office, resigned to his fate. “Thanks, Professor,” he told her, even though he knew he wouldn’t be speaking about what Sirius had done to him. He didn’t even know if it was possible to put into words.
Leaving the room, he dropped his back against the door, letting himself breathe for just a moment, hot breaths hissing as they entered the cool air. “Crap luck, really.” He slowly turned his head to see Regulus standing at the end of the hall, looking at him blankly.
“Are you fucking following me?” Remus asked, barking out a humourless laugh as he pushed himself off of the door, and coming to stand right in front of the younger boy. He was a lot shorter than Remus was, but even as he had to look up to meet his eyes, chin jutting out, he didn’t look intimidated.
Regulus just waved his hand in lieu of a response to that, as if it was a normal thing to do, following people around. “Must be awful to live with Sirius at the best of times,” Regulus said, brows arched as Remus took a step back. “Can’t imagine how unbearable it would be when you hate him.”
“I think you probably can imagine,” Remus sighed out quietly, running his tongue over his teeth. He went to leave, fingers tugging through his hair when Regulus called after him.
“Where’re you going? It’s dinnertime.”
“Not hungry,” Lupin called back over his shoulder as he continued walking, his boots hitting against the stone floors in a quick rhythm. He heard Regulus make a scoff of disbelief before another pair of steps started up in the other direction.
He glanced back to see Regulus walking towards the Great Hall and thought for the first time about how very different Sirius’ brother seemed to be. Remus paused, watching as Regulus turned the corner, and for the first time that day, instead of going through his list of how best to kill Sirius for his unforgivable betrayal, he wondered if there was other ways he could ruin Sirius Black's life.