Remus
Full Moons had never been easy for Remus. No werewolf would call a Full easy, though Remus didn’t know any other werewolves to debate the topic with, so maybe there were. Remus didn’t understand how something could be be anything other than difficult when your bones break and grow, your skin stretches, and your entire form changes. And then it only stays that way for a handful of hours before shrinking you back-smaller and colder and much more naked than before. Naked, afraid, and alone in the woods or the shack or the attic your bestial self is allowed to call home.
The discomfort of Remus’s Fulls had temporarily been eased by the company of his friends. Remus never thought he’d have friends. Not ones that he could trust with a secret such as his, not ones he believed could help him. School had been a terrifying experience for Remus, but it had also been the most transformative thing he could have ever done.
At Hogwarts, Remus had value. Remus wasn’t raised to be certain that his life had any value. He was fiercely loved by his parents, he never questioned his worth to them, but the world was a cruel and unforgiving place. Muggle society could never understand his bestial infliction and the wizarding society could never accept his humanity. But at Hogwarts, Remus could be somebody. He could be important. One bright eyed, rebellious, brilliant boy had been one of the first to teach him that years ago. The first time was when he thanked Remus for being his friend during that first night in the castle when neither of them could get any sleep Then later that week when he called Remus brilliant for how many points he earned Gryffindor with his correct answers in class. Again and again and again Sirius would find ways of showing Remus he was important. It wasn’t until much later in that year that Remus finally allowed himself to believe it could be true.
“I know your mum’s a werewolf” Sirius confessed to Remus three quarters of the way through their first year. “That’s why she always gets sick with the moons, and why you have to go help her, and why you’re always so tired afterwards.”
The fact that Sirius was that in tune with his absences, that familiar, and that clever to have made the guess he did scared Remus. If Sirius had almost figured it out this close into his academic career, then Remus had no chance of making it past third year without the whole school learning. And Sirius’s determination to get Remus to listen to his theories was unsettling to him.
“It’s okay that she is, I won’t tell. Promise. My note taking isn’t great, but you can have my notes from when you’re gone. It can be our little secret.”
Remus liked the idea of having a little secret with Sirius, but not about this.
“Preposterous.” Remus would quip, but it wasn’t. Not really. Remus’s heart raced and he became increasingly sweaty and anxious every time his friend brought the subject up. Thankfully, Sirius only ever brought the topic up in private, but the two of them lived together. Escaping Sirius’s questioning was a very difficult task.
“That has to be really hard for her, you know? I mean, she was just a regular human for how long? Then this?! I didn’t even know muggles could be monsters. Did it happen after you were born? Is that why your father stayed with her?”
“They’re not monsters!” Remus screamed, finally unable to ignore Sirius’s incessant yapping. To hear him describe werewolves as monsters made Remus nauseous. And to hear Sirius imply his father should have left her for such an affliction? Werewolves weren’t monsters. Beasts, technically. Even that had an implication that made Remus’s skin crawl. He did his best to keep his emotions steady. “And she is not a werewolf. How many times do I have to tell you?”
Yelling, while Sirius’s least favorite method of communication, was effective at shutting him up. He didn’t bring up the topic again, not for several more weeks until Remus returned from another ‘trip home’ with a bandage along his chest that Sirius just barely managed to see peeking from his pajama shirt. Remus had been having a fitful time sleeping, Sirius had been watching for the last half hour or more. It was Remus’s first day back and he already looked like he hadn’t slept in a few days. Sirius jumped from his bed and padded over to his friend’s. He jumped as Remus woke from his sleep and startled them both.
“They’re not monsters.” Sirius blurted out as Remus adjusted to being watched. “You were right. They’re just people, sick people.”
Remus didn’t respond to his friend. It was too early or too late to be bothering with this conversation, he didn’t even know what Sirius was trying to go on about. Not at first. When Remus didn’t reply to Sirius’s words, Sirius produced more of them.
“Not sick like bad, or like twisted, or perverted or anything. They’re infected and there’s no cure. I read about it, in a book from the library.”
“You can read?” Remus replied, half asleep still and not fully intending to roast Sirius. Not until Sirius started laughing. Remus sat up a bit, feeling more awake, and laughed too.
“Yes I can read, stupid. I just prefer when you do it for me.”
Remus rolled his eyes but his chest kept rising and falling with laughter.
“The one who can’t read is calling the one who can stupid?”
“I can read! I can read two and a half languages!”
That was more languages than Remus could read in.
“Can you speak two and a half languages?” Remus had never thought to ask. He’d never heard Sirius speak any language other than English before.
“Deux.” Sirius replied, holding up to fingers. He changed the topic quickly after that, though. He patted Remus’s bed and looked up at the other.
“How can I help?”
Remus blinked back at his friend, clearly confused by his question.
“With…..my languages?”
Sirius’s lips pursed, he tutted and shook his head. “I read that Full Moons are like, really painful because you sort of turn into putty and grow, then you shrink back down when the sun is out. Some werewolves are like, permanently disfigured because of a transformation gone wrong. Like how if you apparate wrong you can mess yourself up, but there’s less magic to fix it when it’s a disease.”
Remus had never heard anyone talk with such sympathy or compassion about his condition, save for maybe his parents. Even though it was sort of rambly and got off point and made Remus worry about permanent disfigurement, he never imagined that Sirius would go off on his own and research this. He never thought Sirius would independently put himself in Remus’s shoes. He’d never seen such compassion from someone his age. Not from someone in a sacred 28 family, no less. Remus knew that Sirius was different from his family, he’d known from the first day he’d met him, but the belief was strongly reconfirmed in that moment.
“I think that, because you stretched out then shrunk back, you’ve got to be kind of like putty for a few days, yeah? All unstable and moving around. So what if you stopped tossing and turning around because you’re making it worse and I can’t sleep?” Sirius continued.
Remus looked around the room to confirm that everyone else was sleeping. He’d never had someone figure out his secret, he’d never had them expose it in a room with other people, even if those other people were sleeping. This could be Remus’s death sentence right now, yet he didn’t feel nearly as afraid as he should be.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That you’re the werewolf.” Sirius whispered “I haven’t told anybody except for you, and I’ve been bursting to ever since you left. But I haven’t told anybody else, and I won’t, if you don’t want me to. But I want to help.” Sirius set about getting his pillows from his bed and arranging them around Remus so that his joints were supported and he couldn’t move as much. He made sure the pillows were right, only in a position that felt good. And surprisingly, the pillows helped.
Remus knew he shouldn’t, but he did trust Sirius. He’d only known the other for a little less than nine months, but if there was anybody to trust it was his first friend, right?
How fucking stupid was he.
The moons were harder without his friends, but it was hardly something Remus hadn’t done alone a million times before. Moony had gotten more aggressive since the betrayal, Remus didn’t let his friends join along anymore. Sirius hadn’t been allowed since he reveled the secret, but James and Peter hadn’t been allowed since the moon after that. It wasn’t safe for them. Moony was angry and Remus wouldn’t put his friends in that unnecessary danger.
Remus still had friends. Despite Sirius’s betrayal, Remus still had friends. His mother had been hard pressed to not let him forget that this summer. Remus wrote to Lily regularly, and he received something in the post from James and Pete almost weekly. Hope Lupin handled the mail, despite owl not being her native method of communication. She didn’t ever read Remus’s letters, but she’d have them ready for him on the kitchen table most days and she would make sure he sent a reply every single time. It was nice to remember that there were still people that cared, but it did little to help gain his sense of trust again. Would it only be a matter of time before James or Peter betrayed him too?
The sun that filtered through Remus’s blinds had gotten high enough that its beams shone directly into Remus’s face. They stung and he groaned, but their position meant that it was nearly the afternoon, or perhaps it already was the afternoon. His mother had let him sleep in. She always let him sleep in after the moons, it was necessary. Remus groaned as he rolled onto his side, trying to hide from the light to stretch another ten or fifteen minutes our of his nap. His face burrowed into the long pillow beside him. Six months ago he was waking up next to a pile of black, shaggy fur. The pillow, while clean and soft and smelling of linen, was indefinitely less inviting.
Lying in bed forever wouldn’t get him anywhere. Remus knew that to keep himself from further injury, that he had to get up and stretch his bones just a little bit. Remus was already dressed when he woke. He was dressed in an old, large work shirt and a pair of boxers. He could feel bandages around his arm and shoulder.
Remus’s cane was propped up beside his bed, a vial of pain potion and a glass of water were left on his nightstand. His mother had been worrying again. She always worried after Fulls, it was to be expected. It was sweet, but it hurt Remus to know how anxious she could become. This summer had really put her anxiety to the test.
Sitting up reminded Remus that his neck hurt. His back too. There wasn’t any part of him that didn’t hurt right now. His bones were tight, each joint protested with movement. Some held themselves up better than others. Everything seemed to be holding up alright as it was so far. His muscles ached. They felt like rubber bands that had been stretched out too long, and now they were just sore and useless. His skin felt like it was lightly sunburnt, so he knew he’d done enough damage to give himself a fever. Remus could feel where Moony had clawed at himself from the night before. Deep lines throbbed against his shoulder blade and down his back, spidering down his left arm. He can’t see the damage, his mother likely bathed him this morning and dressed his wounds before getting him changed and tucked in bed. Remus reached for the pain potion. It wasn’t one of the ones that tasted good, that wasn’t in the budget, but Remus didn’t mind. Pain potions took approximately fifteen to forty five seconds before the effects started working, as opposed to minutes or hours that muggle medicine tablets took. The bitter taste only lasted for a moment when washed down with some water.
Remus’s hip protested to a change in position as Remus readied himself to stand. Despite the pain potion already in effect, Remus still winced as he stood up. His feet were flat against the floor and stretched tight. His ankles throbbed and his knees popped. Remus needed to sit back down. Remus needed coffee.
Thankfully. Remus’s bedroom was right off the kitchen, with the bathroom just around the corner. His feet shuffled along the floor slowly. Using his cane was slightly more difficult with the bandages around his left arm, but he managed. While he’d rather not use his mobility devices, even when he should, Remus knew his mother would throw a fit if he were to walk out the door without one the morning after a full. She had placed it next to his bed for a reason.
“Morning, Mum.” Remus mumbled as he made his way from his bedroom to the kitchen table. Hope Lupin had been in the living room when she heard Remus begin to wake and had rushed to the kitchen when she heard her son’s bedroom door open.
“Good morning, darling.” Hope replied, ignoring the fact that it was currently a quarter to one in afternoon. She pulled Remus’s chair out for him and gave her son a kiss on the head as he sat. “How did you sleep?”
Remus hummed as his mother greeted him, allowing himself to settle into the chair. “Fine, I guess. Thank you for the potion.”
“As if I would forget. Would you like breakfast?”
She didn’t even need to ask, she knew Remus needed to eat. Remus nodded anyway.
A cup of coffee made its way into Remus’s hand before Hope ever started with bacon or eggs or beans or toast. She made sure to also serve it with a spoon and small jar of brown sugar. Remus liked to pretend that he was big and drank his coffee black, but Hope knew her boy had a sweet tooth. He always had, and her son deserved something sweet always, but especially on the night after a Full.
The coffee was a little stale and burnt. Remus didn’t mind, he actually kind of liked it like that. Mum had likely made a lot this morning, something her and Da have been working on ever since, judging by the look of her. She doesn’t look like she’s slept at all, she rarely did on Fulls. Mollasses and sugar did help to sweeten the cup. Remus put two heaping spoonfuls in when his mother wasn’t looking. It was warm, it was sweet, it would help Remus wake up.
The morning after a full moon was now, more or less, a routine that Hope Lupin ran like a well oiled machine. She could tell by the look on her son’s face when he first woke up which breakfast would be best suited for today. She made her way to the refrigerator and took out the half pound of bacon she got from the butcher two days before and a half dozen eggs from the chickens in the garden. She set the items down on the counter to the left of the stovetop before returning to the cupboard and pulling out her mixing bowls. Hope hummed to the tune of the radio playing quietly in the background as she washed and grated potatoes, then tenderly pressed them dry and let them sit while she heated up two large cast iron pans on her stove. Only after Remus had finished his first cup of coffee and began humming along to the music did she try speaking to him once more.
“A letter came in for you this morning. Your weekly chronicle from James, in two days earlier than expected. It’s thick, should I expect he’s included a list of all the very important items you’re going to need for your visit to his next week?”
Remus snorted at her comment and rolled his eyes. If he were being honest with himself, his mother was his best friend. Technically his best friend is James, but he wouldn’t have remembered that if Hope hadn’t sat him down and told him to reach out. He wouldn’t have sugar in his coffee or breakfasts with protein, or fresh bedding and bandages after bad moons without her. Truly, she was the first person to believe in Remus, to see his humanity even during his most beastly episodes. She would be his best friend until her dying days.
“I think it’s more likely he’s detailing every item in his wardrobe and every talking point he can think of for when he sees Lily next week.”
“Oh yes, your big trip to London to meet up with your friends. Are you excited?” Hope was, it was clear in her voice as she gave Remus the parchment in exchange for his coffee mug, which she happily refilled for him.
It was hard to be excited when everything hurt from the night before, but Remus was looking forward to it. Him and James, Peter, Lily, Mary, and Dorcas were going to meet up in London and spend a day together. They’d been planning it for weeks, it was right in the middle of the week he’d be spending with James.
“It will be nice to see everyone.” Remus commented as his fingers traced along the letter’s seam.
“Well go on, then. Let’s see what he’s got to say.”
Remus nodded at his mother’s insistence and opened the letter, reading it while Hope returned to making breakfast for her boy.
Dear Remus,
First off, so sorry that this letter is getting to you right after the Full. How did this one go? I hope you are rested and feeling alright when you are reading this. This letter is going to be a little different than the others.
I want to recount, in detail, everything that’s happened recently like I normally do, but if I did we’d be here all day. Also, it’s only been four days since my last letter. If that doesn’t give you a hint to be sitting down when you read this, let me be more direct. Please sit down when you read this.
Second, I am so looking forward to seeing you next week! But, also,
unfortunatelythat is sort of what this letter is about. You are always more than welcome to come! We love you, we want to see you, you are always welcome here. But….
We’ve sold your guest room
Squatters rights
We’ve got company
We get to share a bedroom again!
We’re fostering?
You can have my room
There’s complications
We have Ghosts
You might not like this
I might be betraying you, which as your friend is the biggest dishonor and I am so so sorry let me explain
You just can’t come upstairs
Your ex is here
We might be cursed
You won’t see a lot of Mum
Things might be weirdSirius is here.
Wow, fuck. This letter was a lot harder to write than I thought it would be. Are you sitting down? I told you to be sitting down.
This isn’t an easy letter to write. I imagine you’re probably feeling a lot of things right now. Confusion, betrayal, anger. Why would Sirius be staying at my house when you’re supposed to be coming over? I promise you, it wasn’t planned. I’m still mad at him too. He should have never said what he did and if you never forgive him I don’t blame you. I only hope you can forgive me.
Sirius got here two nights ago by the time you’ll be getting this. It was a surprise for us. He came flying through the fireplace. He threw up on our rug and passed out in the living room. Not like, in a drunk way, either. He’s sick.
I don’t know how much I should be telling you, if you even want to hear any of this at all. He’s not doing well and I don’t think he has anywhere else to stay. I don’t know how long he’s going to be here yet, but the guest room is his indefinitely. He hasn’t woken up yet, not really. Mom has spent most of her time taking care of him since he’s gotten here. She says he’ll be okay, but he looks worse than you probably do right now.
Please don’t take this as a him vs. you situation. I know it might feel that way but I’m not choosing him over you. You can still come, I’d still love you see you! You can stay in my room and I’ll sleep in the guest room with Sirius, or I’ll sleep on the floor. I probably won’t be able to make it to the London trip, not if he’s still like this, but you should still go. Say hi to Lily for me and all that.
Listen, I know it’s weird and confusing. I don’t really know how I feel about it, but I can’t kick him out. It’s…...it’s really bad, Remus. I won’t be mad if you don’t want to come, you can take your time to decide. I can give you updates if you want them, or I can shut up and pretend I don’t exist for a while. Just...let me know either way.
Most sincerely,
Your best friend James.
“So?” Hope questioned as she plated Remus’s breakfast several minutes later. Remus had been rather silent and every time she turned around to check on him he looked deeply engrossed in the letter. But potatoes take a long time to cook and there aren’t enough books in the world to keep her son occupied. It does not take him twenty minutes to read one letter. “Remus darling, what does James have to say?”
“Sirius is there.”
The sizzling sound of meat and potatoes frying on the stove was the only noise that was made for several seconds as Hope tried to think of a good response. That name had been strictly forbidden in the house this summer. Even just the mention of the stars or the neighbor’s dog could set Remus off. She understood his anger, but she also understood his pain. Her boy didn’t need any more stress right now.
“He’s at the Potters’?” She asked, turning off the stove burners and bringing Remus his meal.
Remus nodded. Hope kissed her son’s head and pushed back some of his hair as she stood behind him.
“That whole long scroll and all it said was Sirius is there?”
“He’s sick.”
“That doesn’t explain why he’s at James’s.” Hope replied as she turned back to the stove and stole herself a few pieces of bacon.
Remus sighed. He looked down at his plate and decided to begin on the omelette first. “Broccoli?” he asked, almost offended, as he took the bite.
“So you grow big and strong, darling.”
Remus didn’t protest. He continued to eat, he continued to avoid his mother’s question.
“What’s wrong with him?” Hope asked a minute or so later.
“I don’t know.”
Hope sighed. She tried not to worry, but how could she not? More than worrying though, she mourned. She mourned the loss of this friendship for her son. She missed the smile that used to dance across his face when he talked about his friends. She grieved the life she’d imagined for Remus, where he wouldn’t have to know this kind of heartbreak. She mourned the life her son could have had if he had not been afflicted with lycanthropy. She grieved for him, she yearned to take his pain away though she’d learned years ago she was powerless in doing so. The best she could do was be there for her son, to love him. She loved her son very much.
“Do you still want to go visit with James next week?”
“I-” Remus didn’t know. His shoulders slumped as he thought. He put his fork down and stopped eating for a moment. “I don’t know!”
Hope crossed back to the kitchen table and sat opposite her son. She took his hand and squeezed it. “You don’t have to know. Not right now, okay?”
Remus nodded.
“Just eat your breakfast. Then we can go rest, you can think about what you might want to say to James, but you don’t have to write him today if you don’t want to.”
Remus could have gone back to bed if he had wanted to, his mother wouldn’t have minded, but he opted for the sofa instead. Hope turned the radio up to keep them company while she worked on another sweater for Remus. When she was worried, she knit. She’d knit a lot this summer. Remus already had one back to school jumper, the one she was working on now was his second. She made a hat for Lily for Christmas, and was wondering if she should do hat and scarf sets for the rest of Remus’s friends. She was so, so thankful that Remus had friends.
The two went several hours without talking, only the radio and the soft clicking of Hope’s needles keeping them company. Remus kept thinking about the letter. He didn’t want to be thinking about Sirius. Especially not the morning after a Full. He could still feel the way his heart dropped when he awoke and was told what had happened, what Moony almost did. But Sirius was sick, he looked worse than Remus did, he hadn’t woken up, it was really bad. James hadn’t been direct about anything in the letter, but he’d been careless and left too many crumbs. Remus couldn’t help but analyze over and over and over again. Whatever had happened to Sirius, it had to be next to death.
Remus remembered the first time he’d realized that something might not be right at home with Sirius. It was their second year at Hogwarts and James and Sirius had decided to sneak onto the quidditch pitch and practice. They’d taken Remus and Peter along as lookout. One vs one quidditch is not very easy. It was amusing, watching the two zip around after each other, dodging bludgers and shooting quaffles. It was amusing until Sirius took a bludger to the face. He fell straight off his broom and into the bleachers, his nose crooked and bloody and face already swelling by the time he sat up. The boys had all freaked out. James was ready to turn himself in, practically begging Sirius to go to the hospital wing. Nobody was in disagreement with James about his proposal except for Sirius, who hardly seemed concerned about it. He asked James to keep him steady, then popped his nose back into place by himself. He struggled to charm it back to healed by himself, the swelling affecting his ability to pronounce the spell, but he was able to teach Remus and have Remus secure his nose back into place. Then, as if it were complete common knowledge, Sirius told James that he would need to steal a mandrake leaf and a slug from the Herbology classroom to reverse the swelling and bruising so nobody had to know.
When asked how he knew all this, Sirius acted offended that they didn’t believe he was smart or well read. He then added that his cousin Bella broke his nose once on summer holiday and that’s what his family doctor did to fix it. James and Peter seemed to accept this answer, but Remus thought Sirius was a little bit too practiced in the treatment to fully believe his lie.
Remus knew Sirius had nightmares, he always had. The two of them were usually the only two up in the middle of the night, they’d had years of practice being each other’s company. Remus learned how to calm Sirius from his nightmares, and Sirius in turn learned how to manage Remus’s pain. And while Sirius never really talked about the contents of his dreams, Remus knew they got worse before and after he went home for holiday. Remus could only imagine what Sirius’s family had done.
“Dittany doesn’t just work for cuts, you know.” Sirius commented one afternoon during their fifth year as he sat beside Remus in the hospital wing. It was just the two of them for now, so Sirius’s hand was intertwined with Remus’s. His fingers brushed over sensitive skin and traced up Remus’s arm. Remus had to try hard to fight sleep so he could continue to listen to the other’s voice.
“It’s really restorative. It’s not as good as mandrake for bruises, but it’s pretty good. You have to crush it up with mint, though, for it to be really good with bruises. And if you manage to turn it into a balm, it can help with scarring.”
“Hmm, you’ve become a dittany expert overnight?”
“It grows in our garden, at our estate in France.”
Remus scoffed. He knew Sirius could hear him thinking how posh, and relaxed when he heard Sirius’s laugh in response.
“A dittany expert came in handy last night.” Sirius reminded the other. Remus felt his hand get squeezed. The air became heavier, Remus looked down at the large gash along his chest. It looked as though it were several days old, scabbed over and nearly healed, but it had looked far worse only hours before. Remus knew it wasn’t his fault, but he still felt guilty.
“You’re a good healer, Sirius Black.” Remus hummed, doing his best to lighten the mood. He knew Sirius was still messed up about it. He’d refused to go to classes today in favor of watching over Remus in the hospital wing. He’ll get a week’s detention for it, and Remus wasn’t even sure Sirius cared.
Sirius brought Remus’s hand up to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. “I’m glad I was there.”
Remus’s hand rested against Sirius’s cheek, his thumb rubbed against his smooth skin.
“How do you look so good after staying up all night?” Remus asked. Some of his aches dissipated as Sirius blushed at the compliment. Things always got a little bit better when Sirius smiled. It never failed to light up a room.
Sirius’s hand slipped from Remus’s and reached to feel his forehead. “Hmm, you’re running warm again. You’re delirious.”
The hand against his forehead slipped down to cup Remus’s cheek. Remus turned his head into the hand and kissed Sirius’s palm.
“Get some sleep, Moons.”
Remus’s eyes dipped closed with the suggestion of sleep. His body grew heavier against the bed, he very nearly did fall asleep but something compelled him to open his eyes again. Remus blinked up at Sirius, who was still looking down on him. His temple was bleeding, though, and so was his nose.
“What happened?” Remus asked. He tried to wipe at the blood on the other’s face but Sirius pushed his arm down and away.
“Get some sleep, Moons.”
Remus was almost lulled into submission again. He closed his eyes, just for a moment. Barely longer than a blink. When he opened them again, Sirius was sill looking down at him. His hair was cut erratically and there were bruises peeking out from under his shirt. Remus blinked instinctively, when his eyes met Sirius’s again he could see that they were bloodshot, with one pupil larger than the other. Remus gasped, but he couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Get some sleep, Moons.”
The boy he loved shushed him once more. Remus tried hard to stay awake. He did everything in his power not to blink, to stay focused on the version of Sirius he had, because he was scared of what the next iteration would be.
Remus didn’t think he had blinked. He’d looked away for a moment, but his eyelids were open. He thought they were open. Sirius was still looking down at him. His cheek was swollen and purple, a yellow puss oozed out of the cut atop it. His lip was cut open, the gash on his forehead had gotten bigger. Sirius’s clothes were torn, gashes along his chest lay open beneath the shredded fabric. There was a distinctly bruised ring around his neck.
“Get some sleep, Moons.”
No! Remus didn’t want to close his eyes again, he didn’t want to get sleep. Not if it would keep hurting Sirius like this. Remus didn’t understand what was happening, he didn't know how to stop it. Against his will, Remus blinked once more. When his eyes opened Sirius was still staring down at him.
His skin was peeling off from the scalp, Remus could see the other’s skull beneath the decaying flesh. The bruise along his cheek had turned necrotic, it hadn’t stopped oozing. Several of Sirius’s teeth were missing or rotted. His hair was matted and uneven, the longest bits of it were tangled into gummied dried blood along an open gash across his neck. Sirius’s eyes were still large and uneven in the sense that one of them was missing completely, nothing but a dark black hole in its place. Red tears dripped down his cheeks. His shirt was gone, and so was much of his skin. The wounds had grown bigger, they’d began moving. Maggots wiggled underneath Sirius’s chest, spilling out onto the bed in front of him and onto Remus. He could see one of Sirius’s ribs, he could see Sirius’s heart beating. The other coughed, spraying vermon and bits of black blood onto Remus. Sirius’s mouth curled into a smile, both pained and amused.
Remus could see through the gap between Sirius’s ulna and his radius as his arm raised and his hand made its way up and over Remus’s face. Blood and dripped down onto him, wet mushy flesh made contact with Remus’s face. It smelled putrid and pulled away onto his face as Remus tried to turn, to get away however they could. Remus struggled in his place, doing everything he could to break free.
“Go to sleep.”
Remus didn’t know if he was screaming in his dream, in real life, or in both. He woke as he crashed to the ground after falling from his napping spot on the sofa. The living room was significantly darker than it had been before he had fallen asleep. The lights were off, save for the glow of the television. Remus could hear someone stirring across the room in the recliner.
“Son?”
Lyall Lupin stirred from where he had been napping in his recliner. He blinked himself awake and turned on the light next to him to assess what had just happened. He watched as his son pushed himself up from the floor and sat back on the couch.
“What time is it?”
Lyall checked his watch before reporting “half past eight.”
Remus scrubbed his face with his hands, checking to make sure there was no blood or dirt on them before pushing them back through his hair and sighing. He hung his head low in front of him. His head throbbed, a deep pulse sending shock waves throughout his body. He was fine, this was nothing unexpected. It’s what he gets for falling asleep on the couch for so long.
“Bad dream?”
Remus groaned, low and dreadful. It sounded sort of like the dead reanimated. Images from his dream flashed in his head, sending a shiver down Remus’s spine and causing his shoulders to hit his ears as he flinched. That was enough to answer the father’s question.
“How long have I been asleep?” Remus eventually asked.
“Four hours? Maybe more. You were asleep when I got home.” Lyall sat up in his chair and stood, crossing the living room to his son. He frowned as his son winced when he sat down next to him. Lyall carefully put a hand up to his boy’s face, his frown deepening as he felt how warm Remus had gotten. “Your potions have worn off.”
Remus groaned as his father messed his hair and stood up. Lyall returned a few minutes later with a pain potion, two tylenol, a glass of water, and a chocolate bar.
“Where’s Mum?” Remus asked before downing the vial quickly and chasing it with his water and pills.
“In bed sleeping. Thankfully your fall didn’t wake her.”
“She stayed up all night, didn’t she?”
“Aye.”
Remus sighed. “You did too?”
Lyall nodded.
“And you went to work all day?”
“I did.”
“Go to sleep.” Remus demanded. Lyall laughed.
“I was sleeping before you woke me.” He pushed the chocolate bar to Remus, settling only after his son took a bite.
“Go to sleep in your bed, with mum, where you should be.”
Lyall shrugged. “Tomorrow’s the weekend.” His disregard for Remus’s concern was met with quite a scowl from his teenage son.
“Okay okay, I’ll go to bed.” Lyall conceded. “After you let me look you over.”
“I’m fine, Da” Remus deflected.
“You’re shaking.”
Oh. Remus paused to look down at himself, he hadn’t noticed the tremor in his hand. He took another bite of chocolate.
“You had some pretty deep cuts there. Come on. We’ll change your bandages then be off to bed.”
“I’ll change them in the morning, after I shower.”
“We have plenty of bandages in this house. We’ll do both.” Lyall stood and patted Remus on the back, not on the side that was bandaged. He made his way over to the bathroom off of Remus’s bedroom and motioned for his son to follow him.
Remus complied. With a grunt and a groan he pushed himself up, stretched and popped himself into place, then made his way to the bathroom. He sat on the edge of the bathtub. His feet pressed against the smooth tub floor, Remus found himself fixated on the pattern of the bathroom tile as his father cut his old bandages off, washed his wounds, reapplied his ointments and bandaged him up again. Remus always felt guilty during this part of the moons. It wasn’t fair to his parents, having to clean the wounds their son inflicted upon himself every month. Summers were difficult in that aspect, there was no impartial third party to help Remus. Every act of care was a reminder of the trauma, and every month was a new reminder that they would never get over it. This act was always going to hurt the caregiver so long as the caregiver was his parent. While Remus knew nobody in this interaction was responsible for the outcome, Remus still held guilt for it.
“Goodnight, Dad.” Remus said at the door of his parents’ bedroom. Lyall had insisted on making a cup of tea for Remus and letting him know there were leftovers in the fridge if he was hungry. Remus let his father remind him not to stay up too late about half a dozen times before he was finally content to let Remus be for the evening.
Remus returned to his room, but only long enough to read over the letter from James again and to change into jeans. There was a mostly full pack of cigarettes hiding in the bottom of Remus’s trunk. He pocketed them, his notebook, and a pen before sneaking outside.
The Lupins didn’t live on too large of an acreage, though there was plenty of open space around them. They kept about a dozen chickens, but nothing larger. There was a shed out back, referred to as ‘the barn’ by his family, though Remus found it much to small for that to be an appropriate name. It held gardening supplies, chicken feed, and at one time, a bicycle. Remus sat himself down on a log behind the barn and pulled out his smokes. His lighter was nestled between his cigarettes, taking up the place of those already smoked. Remus placed a cigarette between his lips, lit it, coughed, then went back for more. The smoke burned against his throat, but the head rush that followed is what Remus was looking for. Energized, but a little dizzy. Perfect conditions for replying to James’s letter.
He tried to write a response. He ended up writing about his really horrible dream. Remus ripped the paper out of the notebook and crumpled it up. He tossed the butt of his cigarette over it. He lit another cigarette as he watched the paper ignite and burn. Remus finished that cigarette and had one more before trying to write again. He wrote:
James,
before finding his brain absolutely void of any real words. He closed his eyes, but found Sirius’s staring back at him when he did. The eyes looking back at him were void and hollow, nearly dead.
Remus hated Sirius. Just thinking about him made his stomach churn and his fists clench. He hated Sirius because he’d loved him. He hated Sirius because he trusted him. He hated Sirius because Sirius didn’t feel enough of the same about him to keep him safe. Remus didn’t want Sirius dead, though. Sometimes he thought he did, but deep down he didn’t. He couldn’t bear to lose Sirius that finally.
A third cigarette proved to be too much. Feeling sick, Remus walked back up the garden and quietly sneaked back into his house. He locked the door, turned the oven on, and checked the fridge for leftovers. The pot pie his mother had made was delicious. Remus was half upset that he hadn’t been awake to have it when everyone else did. His hands steadied as he ate but his mind continued racing.
Did he want to know what happened to Sirius? Well, yes. Remus couldn’t convince himself for a moment that he didn’t actually want to know what James meant by he’s sick. Remus knew that by asking for answers he would be opening a whole Pandora's box of feelings. The dream alone had been enough to sir feelings. Remus couldn’t stop thinking about it. He couldn’t decide which hurt worse; remembering how it felt to be loved by Sirius, or losing him again and watching him crumble away.
Whatever had happened to Sirius couldn’t have been worse than his dream, though. Remus has already seen the worst possible outcome, so whatever James had to say couldn’t be that bad. That thought steadied him a bit, though Remus was still far from settled. He wouldn’t be settled until he had answers, though.
After cleaning his plate of his leftovers, Remus snuck back outside behind ‘the barn.’ for another cigarette.
Remus kept the cigarette between his lips as he wrote his response to James. The glow from its tip and the moonlight was all the light Remus had to go off of to see. His hands were shakier than usual, but that was typical after a full moon or a bad dream and Remus had just experienced both. He didn’t need the most precision, though. The paper was large enough and Remus didn’t have much to say.
James,Probably despite my better judgment, I’d like to know, in as much detail as you’d like to provide, what the fuck happened to Sirius.
I can’t give you answers to anything else right now.
Yours,
Remus.
A soft hooting from above him distracted Remus. The bird jumped from it’s position on the shed’s roof down towards Remus. Upon closer inspection, he realized this was the Potter’s owl. Mum hadn’t sent her back today. She was a smart young bird, Remus knew. He wondered if she had been watching him write these letters all evening, waiting for the one that was ready to be sent off with her. Remus pat her head as he directed her to return to her home with his message. He sighed after she left, pushing himself back up to standing and decided to return back inside.
Remus reeked of cigarettes. He hadn’t smoked this much in a long time. Not since the last time he was really drunk. Not this fast, and not without Sirius to steal every third drag from his lips. His mother would kill him if he were to get caught, but she was inside and asleep and hopefully soon Remus would be too. He’d shower tomorrow, nobody would be any the wiser.
Remus hid his cigarettes back in his trunk before toeing off his jeans. His shirt smelled, so he decided to take that off as well, remaining only in his boxers and the bandage over his left side. Remus wanted to fall into his bed and let sleep overtake him right then, but he was too anxious to actually fall asleep. His hands clumsily searched through the collection of bottles on the top of his dresser until he found one marked for sleep. He’d slept enough today, Remus was certain he didn’t need any more, but a sleeping draught would let him sleep for another six to ten hours without any dreams. Shutting his mind off was more appealing than anything else.
Without hesitation, Remus tossed back the sleeping draught and climbed back into bed. He didn’t tuck himself in how his mother would, he barely pulled his sheets up over himself. He did adjust his pillow underneath him and underneath his hip, though. He thought about the first time Sirius ever suggested he support the weak joints. Wherever Sirius was right now, Remus hoped he wasn’t having nightmares. Remus hummed as his eyelids grew heavier. His mind started to clear of any thought it had ever had. He might have just made the biggest mistake of his life, but he couldn’t be any less concerned as his world turned grey and Remus fell into a deep, medicated sleep.