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The dungeons were deserted by the time Slughorn let Remus go. He hated being there on a good day, but being there alone was worse. Its damp darkness reminded him of the basement at home where he spent the full moons, and it was as though he could already feel the walls closing in, like he was properly trapped now, and this time, no one would ever remember to let him out again—
Remus’s foot caught on an uneven spot in the cobblestone floor and he barely stopped himself from sprawling onto the ground, throwing a hand out against the wall of the dungeon. The stone was cold against his palm, and he raised his other hand to his chest, willing himself to breathe properly. What kind of piss-poor Gryffindor was he, getting spooked just by being in the dungeons alone?
“Aww, is the wittle first-year lost?” said a too-familiar voice behind him.
Remus’s heart dropped as he reached for his wand, but not quickly enough.
“ Petrificus Totalus !” his attacker cried. The spell hit him square in the back as he keeled onto the stone floor.
“ Wingardium Leviosa ,” the same voice shouted, and Remus felt himself lifted into the air and turned towards his attacker. His hands were firmly pinned against his sides, his legs locked in spite of his best efforts.
Evan Rosier held his wand before him. Next to him was Severus Snape, his nose upturned as though he had smelled something foul.
“That’s Remus Lupin,” Snape supplied Rosier almost eagerly.
Rosier lifted the corners of his mouth into a weak imitation of a smile. “Oh don’t worry, I know little Lupin well. His dad gave mine a spot of trouble back at the Ministry, didn’t he, Lupin?” He flicked his wand with a muttered spell, and Remus fell to the ground with a crack, his legs softening like jelly beneath him. “Turned my dad in for, oh, what was it again?” He lifted his voice into a childish, sing-songy pitch, “Right, possession of a dark object, wasn’t it, Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes?”
What Rosier left out was that his father never got a job since. That Rosier had hunted Remus down again and again since he arrived at Hogwarts, and that Remus had long figured out the rhyme and rhythm of his fits. Rosier always wanted to get really angry, and once he got his fill, he’d leave Remus alone. So why not speed it up to get it over with? Remus was no stranger to bearing the brunt of other people’s grudges against his father.
“A dark object? Wow, was it bring your kid to work day?” Remus asked.
Rosier’s face darkened as he flicked his wand again, and Remus’s head cracked against the stone floor. White hot pain ran down his face, but it was nothing compared to the pain that shrieked through his bones every moon. There was nothing Rosier could dream up that could be worse than he was used to. Than what he deserved.
“Watch your mouth, you half-blood scum,” Rosier scowled, raising his wand again. Remus braced himself for the next spell.
“Oi!” A flash of Gryffindor red and long black hair, and all of a sudden Sirius Black came out of nowhere and stepped in front of him. They’d shared a dormitory for two months now but never spoke. The humiliation of being sorted into Gryffindor had left Black sour, and he barely made an effort to talk to anyone, with the occasional exception of one Mr James Potter. Peter, their fourth housemate, groveled for attention. Remus chose to leave them all alone.
The scowl on Sirius’s face deepened as he leveled his wand at the other two boys. He tilted his chin, almost regal, “What do you think you’re doing?”
Snape was the one who finally spoke, “What, Black, is he a little pet of yours?”
“Oh, shut it, Snivellus,” Sirius scoffed, barely sparing him a glance. “Back off, Rosier, or I’ll sic Bella on you at the next winter banquet.”
“I see,” Rosier said, his mouth curling in distaste. “Does your cousin know that this is the company you keep?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Bella practices the Cruciatus on small animals when she gets bored, she’s not picky. You’re welcome to try your luck if you’d like, though.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow, and Remus watched as both Rosier and Snape shrunk before him. Sirius had that effect, like he owned the world and everything in it. Remus couldn’t bear to watch. He couldn’t look away.
The silence stretched, then broke. “Fine. I’ll see you around, Black,” Rosier said, wiggling his fingers in a mocking wave. ”Come on Severus.” Snape shot them a furious scowl over his shoulder as they turned and left. Sirius kept his wand up until the other two boys turned the corner. Once their footsteps receded, he dropped to the ground beside Remus.
“ Finite incantum ,” he muttered, and Remus gasped in relief as feeling flooded back into his limbs. Sirius’s face softened as he watched Remus tentatively rotate his wrists and straighten his legs before him. A strand of hair slipped from behind his ear, falling onto his forehead, but he didn’t seem to notice as he stared intently at Remus. “You okay?”
Remus’s ears felt warm. He hoped they weren’t red. But there was one small thing that stuck with him from what he just heard. “Your cousin knows an Unforgivable Curse?”
Sirius shrugged. “Pssh, everyone in my family does. I think it’s funny they call it an Unforgivable. As if you have a choice not to forgive them after they do it.”
“They’ve used it on you?” Remus blurted.
Sirius stiffened, and the gentle boy Remus had just seen disappeared, replaced again by the untouchable, faraway heir of the House of Black. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“No,” Remus said quickly. This was the most they’d ever said to each other since they started at Hogwarts. Maybe all they’ll ever say. “Thank you, he added quickly, remembering his manners, “For getting me out of that.”
He pushed himself up, but winced as his bad knee from the last moon twinged beneath him. All that falling certainly didn’t do him any favors.
Sirius gripped Remus by the elbow, pulling him up gently. His hands were so warm for a boy so cold. “Bastards,” he muttered. “Come on, let’s get you to the hospital wing.”
“Oh, no, I’m fine,” Remus said. “Stuff like this happens all the time, I’ll sleep it off.”
Sirius stiffened. “Rosier’s done this to you before?”
Remus laughed, but it sounded hollow even to his own ears. “Rosier, yes. A couple of the other Slytherins too, the occasional Ravenclaw, it’s not just him. I mean, look at me.”
He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what he looked like, with his threadbare cloak and shabby bookbag, badly-cut fringed and arms still scarred from the last moon. He had been a prime target even for Muggles in elementary school. What hope was there that things would be different even in a world with magic? Especially with what he was.
But why did he say that out loud? He couldn’t expect someone like Sirius Black to understand. “I’m me, you know,” he added weakly with a wan grin. “Kind of an easy target, don’t you think?”
He met the other boy’s eyes, expecting, no, dreading pity. He didn’t want pity, didn’t know what to do with it. Had been drowning in it since he was a child. But Sirius looked, if anything, confused. Then his brows smoothed out and he crossed his arms. “No,” he said steadily. “I don’t think so.”
One day later and Remus found himself in the dungeons for potions again. Students were bustling out of the classroom around him, and he was desperate to leave, but the clasp of his Potion kit just wouldn’t close properly.
Someone cuffed him on the shoulder and he flinched, readying himself for a push to the ground or a jinx from nowhere. But instead it was Sirius Black, pushing his jet-black hair back as he leaned against Remus’s desk.
“Come on, slowpoke,” Sirius said. “I’m starving, and I think there’s chocolate pudding for dinner tonight.
“Oh, um, yes, okay,” Remus squeaked, thanking his lucky stars as his potions kit finally clicked shut. Sirius kept pace with him as they made their way to the entrance of the dungeon. James Potter stood in the corridor, his face hung like a lost puppy until he spotted them in the crowd.
“Sirius!” he hollered, waving his arms wildly. “I turned around for a minute and you were just gone. I thought I’d lost you forever!”
“And you survived anyways,” Sirius said with a smirk. “I had to get this one,” he said, tilting his head towards Remus.”
“Aww,” James replied, his face splitting into a grin. “You made a friend. I’m so proud of you. Both of you.”
“Yeah, thanks, you’ve been dethroned,” Sirius grumbled, swatting away James’s attempts to ruffle his hair.
“Do you mind if we drop by the Owlery after dinner?” James asked as the three of them made their way towards the Great Hall. “I need to renew my Quidditch Weekly subscription, I’d hate to miss next week’s edition on the Chudley Cannon tryouts-”
A flash of green caught Remus’s eye. Rosier appeared at the end of the corridor, his wand tight in his grip. Beside him, Sirius hissed, dropping a hand to grip Remus’s arm. Rosier’s scowl deepened as he melted back into the crowd.
“—Benjamin Bridgley, now he’s an icon for the ages,” James continued, utterly oblivious. He seemed happy with whatever conclusion he had drawn, nodding contently before turning his attention to the portrait of a particularly chatty knight hanging upside down from a tree. “Oh hello, Sir Archibald, how are we doing today?”
“Thanks,” Remus muttered to Sirius.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sirius said gruffly, but even then, Remus could see the corner of his mouth quirk up into the smallest of smiles.