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Part Five
Bitten
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The attic of the Shrieking Shack was cool, near to the point of being freezing, but Remus rather enjoyed it. A chill always made him much more alert, and it seemed the opposite always made him rather sleepy. Occasionally during the summer he would be chastised as a lazy dog, to which he would only shrug and stretch in the grass, bathe himself in the sun with hardly a reason or want to move.
But summer was a ways away now, and Remus had studying to do. Or, rather, he didn't feel like going to bed, not when the sky was clear, not when the full moon was so rapidly approaching. One more day. Generally before his transformation, Remus would have much more trouble sleeping; hell, he'd have much more trouble doing anything. He'd learnt to keep his rising temper under control over the years, but trying to sleep when his body was starting to awaken to sights and sounds and smells, when every gust of wind pricked the hairs on his neck and beckoned him to follow, it was just impossible.
And so Remus would sneak away, wear himself out with studying late, or at least trying to. Sometimes Sirius would be kind enough to come with. This was their fifth year, and only a month ago, September, had they decided to spend more time together alone. It was unspoken and both would deny any pre-meditation, but the fact remained that they were more often to be found together rather than apart these days.
They never bothered to wake James or Peter for these trips out; sometimes they went to the astronomy tower, occasionally they came to the shack. Sirius would only pretend that he had already been awake, and Remus would only pretend to have accidentally woken him, and eventually they had both stopped saying anything about it and just met in the commons. The night before the full moon was theirs, and despite Sirius being tired, he never let Remus spend it alone anymore. They'd huddle up under James' invisibility cloak and set out into the night, not saying a word until they emerged from the cloak.
Something about being that close made words impossible, and wholly unnecessary.
"I've found you," Remus murmured, standing up straight from the rusty telescope and looking over his shoulder at Sirius, "Want to see?"
"No," Sirius murmured idly, laid out on the cold, dusty floor, staring up at the ceiling as if there weren't a million stars to be looking at through the missing portion of the roof, "I've seen myself enough, I should think."
Remus smirked and shook his head, "Never thought I'd hear that out of you."
"Tell me how it happened."
Several long minutes passed, in which Remus had turned back to the telescope, focused his eye on Sirius the star, and contemplated whether or not to tell Sirius the boy.
"Did you hear me?" Sirius' voice was still soft, still that gentle murmuring rumble that meant he was tired, but content. Sirius was maybe a little cold, too, but had given up on complaining an hour ago.
"I did," Remus said, though didn't turn from the telescope for another minute. He counted the seconds all the way up to sixty before finally withdrawing, hitting the telescope gently to knock it off course, just because. "You really want to know?"
"Wouldn't have asked if I didn't," Sirius sat up now, scooted himself back to lean against an abandoned trunk, made room for Remus as the other sat next to him. Remus' skin felt warm, as it always did this time of month, and rather casually Sirius wrapped an arm about his waist, pressed a little closer. This was not the first time this had happened, but still they never spoke of being close this way.
Sirius pretended it was for warmth.
So did Remus.
They both knew it wasn't.
Another few minutes passed as Remus gathered his thoughts, staring at his feet as he did so. He brought his legs to his chest, as often was his preference, and let his eyes close. A deep breath was taken, just to calm himself, for the memory was hardly pleasant. No one had ever really asked about how it had happened, possibly because it was rude, possibly because it was gruesome, possibly because it was painful. But Sirius' curiosity had never cared about any of those things.
Remus didn't really think it was painful, though. It was something that had happened, something he had lived with for fifteen years, something that he would live with his entire life. How it happened was hardly the worst part, but despite the fact that he told himself this, Remus still felt something in his chest heat up: fear.
"I was about five," He murmured slowly, staring at his shoes again now and feeling Sirius' gaze upon him, "It happened rather quickly, you know. For me it did, but apparently it had all built up for several days. My father insulted Fenrir Greyback, though I never was clear on how. But Greyback had the bright idea to get revenge, and I guess I was the way to get it." Remus shrugged a little, too casually, and Sirius knew it was too casual, could feel it.
"No," When Remus went quiet Sirius leant inwards a little, frowning, "Tell me how it happened."
Remus had his doubts that Sirius would take such a succinct story to begin with, and he was almost sad to be correct. Perhaps tonight wasn't the best night to bring up something that had scarred Remus so badly, physically and otherwise, but it was clear that Sirius wasn't going to drop the issue. Besides, tonight was their only night alone the entire month. At least, the only night alone that was relatively planned.
"It was already night," Remus started, leaning back a bit now, forcing Sirius to re-adjust his arm and take it away. The young werewolf closed his eyes again, vividly seeing the images that accompanied his words as he spoke softly to Sirius, "We were living in a real neighborhood then, in a yellow house with purple flowers in the front garden. Tammy Baker lived across from me, and we played together most evenings before supper. We'd gone out to the woods, and she had left me there once the sun started to go down. I think I had thrown mud at her, because I fancied her.
"It was warm out, lots of insects buzzing, all that. I wasn't lost, because I could still see the houses through the trees, and I heard my mum calling for me. I think I had shouted back, but as I went to get home I got... taken. It was terrifying, I guess." It was terrifying, and Remus didn't have to guess. Even now he felt his muscles tense up, his heart accelerate a little.
Apparently Sirius noticed, too, because he put his hand on Remus' knee, gave a reassuring little squeeze, and left it there.
"It happened very quickly. I tried to cry out, but someone had his hand about my mouth, and someone else pointed their wand at me. Petrificus Totalus. It was easy then, but they probably wouldn't have had to bind me, anyway. Think I wet myself, to be honest.
"They took me into the woods, and then I saw Greyback. He was terribly large, one of those guys that's just made of nightmares. I didn't even fight though, not once the curse wore off, either. I just stood there crying, and his two mates just held my arms so I wouldn't run away. Not that I could have, really. And then he said to me:
'You Lupin's boy?'
"And I nodded or something, but it didn't matter. Of course they knew I was. You can smell that, you know. I can, I mean. Werewolves can. You can smell who belongs to whom.
"He came real close then, smelled my hair and my neck, laughed in my ear," At this Remus cringed, rubbed his shoulder against his ear, and drew into himself a little more. His heart beat hard in his chest, blood pumped in his ears, as it had when he was a child.
Fear was a funny thing that way; it never really let you go. You could forget about it, bury it, but it was still there, just waiting to be dug up again. All the physical sensations came back, all the adrenaline, all the terror. Remus would never forget that laugh, the way it made his entire body tremble.
"I remember he smelled like alcohol, and blood. It was the night of the full moon, but it hadn't come out yet. No, they had timed it near perfect. They'd been watching me for a while, waiting to grab me. Greyback told me to make a run for it, once it all started up. So I did, but I didn't stand a chance. It was cruel, really, letting me run. I was so afraid. Didn't think I'd ever see my mum or dad again.
"I don't know why I wasn't just killed. Greyback could've done that easily, but he stopped, somehow. Maybe when you get older you have more control, I dunno. He bit me though, here," Remus tapped on the length of his left shoulder, just where it curved to his neck. His eyes were still closed, but he winced as if it were still painful. In some ways, it was. The scars were still there, still shown dark against Remus' pale skin, flatter than they should have been but that was the most healing that could be done for them.
Sometimes Sirius saw them, when Remus changed in the dormitory, or when he was getting ready for a bath. Remus knew that Sirius had seen the scars, had studied them from afar; and Sirius was the only one that Remus had ever let do that.
"I don't remember anything after that. His teeth sunk in, and I swear he nearly took off my entire arm. I must have passed out, because I only remember hearing screaming, and then nothing at all. Maybe it was my own... I'm not really sure. When I woke up I was back home, good as new except for the scars. They must have given me something, because mum said I was asleep for a couple of days.
" I was screaming, though. Gave my mum a fright when I sat up in bed. I still thought Greyback was there, chasing after me. I still feel it sometimes; like he's coming after me, or something is. Like I've gotta run away, but I don't know what from now."
Remus forced himself to settle, to calm a little, to relax his tensed body. He had nothing to run from now. The moon was inevitable and he had accepted that long ago. Tomorrow he would come up to the shack alone, and when he went back to school in the morning he would meet Sirius, James, and Peter in the infirmary. They would give him chocolates and tease him, and escort him off to classes if he was well enough to go.
Sometimes Remus had rough nights; sometimes he was in no shape to attend classes for a day, or possibly two. If that were the case it was decided that each Marauder would skip a class to spend time with Remus, keep him company, make sure he didn't get depressive. It was a hard thing on all of them, Remus' transformations, and often Remus felt like he was a burden on his friends. He'd never asked them to stay, of course, but he was always glad for the company, and the chocolates.
It wasn't fair though, Remus often thought, that his friends had to carry this burden as well. It wasn't fair on Remus' parents either, who constantly worried and sent owls to him every morning after the full moon, making sure that he was still safe, still at school. Most especially, however, it wasn't fair to Remus, who had done nothing to deserve this curse but be his father's son.
Often times Remus wondered why Greyback hadn't just killed him, but he knew the answer to that.
He opened his eyes now, focused on the far wall, "He let me live, just to spite my father. Just to prove that werewolves are still people. I'm still a person, aren't I?" The question was posed to himself, and Sirius remained dutifully quiet. Several long moments passed, Remus staring a hole into the wall, before he whispered,
"He let me live, but sometimes I wish he hadn't."
Remus didn't dare look at Sirius after admitting this. It was another secret that he had kept, and now Sirius heard it, and there wasn't any taking it back. But Sirius knew Remus the best, and perhaps Remus knew Sirius the best as well, and so this revelation came as not a shock, but just a sad truth. Sirius said nothing, looked at the wall as well, though perhaps shifted a little closer to Remus. Remus closed his eyes again, hung his head a bit, feeling so horrible, so alone.
But he wasn't alone. He could feel Sirius next to him. Feel the other breathing, feel his heart beating low and steady. He could feel each little twinge of Sirius' leg or arm reverberate softly into his own body, and Sirius' hand upon his knee clutched softly at the cap for a long moment. Sirius was there. Sirius was there for him and he wasn't alone.
They had formed their own bond, slowly and over the years, but it was clear that there was something more between them. Because Sirius knew that Remus didn't want him to say anything at all, or do anything more than what he was doing, and so he didn't. James or Peter would have reacted harshly to such news; James would have awkwardly gotten angry and told him he was being ridiculous, and Peter would have tried to console him in a way that he wasn't equipped to do. They weren't broken, not like Sirius was. They didn't know pain and hurt like Sirius did.
They didn't know what it meant to want to be dead.
But Sirius knew. Sirius knew and he understood, and so he didn't say anything.
Maybe they had a Destined relationship, too.
Maybe they had some invisible string connecting them together.
Maybe the Fates had aligned and brought the two of them together just because they both needed someone else with a heart that couldn't quite beat on its own, and a past that they couldn't change, and a deep, unrelenting darkness buried far, far down in their being that they struggled and fought against until finally the light won out but left them exhausted and tired, though ultimately triumphant in their want to be good people despite being set up to fail.
Maybe Remus just didn't like to think of himself as alone in all of this.
In all of being a person.
In all of being a monster.
In all of being alive.
But if that was the case, it was clear that Sirius didn't want to be alone in any of it, either.
It was clear because Sirius kissed him now, soft on the mouth, held his cheek firmly, too firm to ever hold a girl's cheek, and kept him in place. Eyes were open on both sides of their connected mouths, neither daring to close, daring to break that line between them. Whatever bond had built up was now cemented in place, the foundation of their entire time together. Remus thought in that moment that even if they weren't boyfriends or best friends, lovers or companions, they were something. Something more than he had words for, even to this day.
That kiss had forced their damaged hearts together, made the one that beat strong and sure for the both of them.
Sirius' kiss said more things than Remus could take in, and more things than Sirius could ever put to words, but his grey eyes were clear in their meaning:
I need you alive.
It wasn't a sweet sentiment, it wasn't something that made Remus feel warm in his chest, or sent butterflies about his stomach. It was just factual. It was just honest in a way that Remus wasn't sure Sirius was capable of verbally and would never, in all their years, find out if he was or not. Because Sirius didn't give sweet, lilting words, whispered into his ear, or written on notes tucked under his pillow. No, Sirius kissed him, and stared into him, and held him in place until Remus got it.
Sometimes Sirius even bit him, clawed him, tried to tear his way into Remus' chest, only to have Remus respond in kind. Some days they could never get close enough, and never spoke a word because words just weren't enough either.
But that wasn't now.
No, now they parted, and both boys arose silently and started back to the dormitories. They didn't say a word in the tunnel to the Whomping Willow, and they stayed even more silent underneath the invisibility cloak, removing it perfunctorily when they came to the common room entrance.
Remus looked the other over a moment as they stood outside the portrait hole, before smirking faintly, "You could have just said you were bored."
Sirius punched him in the arm.
Remus stopped wishing he were dead.