besties
Following the person, Remus got lost in the crowd. He reached out, but his abdomen seized up in pain, and he fell to the floor. A very drunk Sirius ran up to him, picking him up and throwing him on a chair, before falling into it too. Carefully, Remus lifted Sirius and put him on the chair, before leaving Gryffindor tower altogether. Grant Chapman stood there, leaning against the Fat Lady portrait as she scoffed and left, he looked down at a book that Remus recognised instantly. It was a copy of the same one Sirius had annotated. With a cigarette lifted to his lips, he looked up and his face lit up at the sight of Remus.
“Dwi'n falch mod i'n dy chwalu di oddi wrth y lot yna am gyfnod,” he said with a light laugh, his voice rasping. He put the fag carefully into his pocket, being careful not to light the whole denim ‘disaster’ (as Remus liked to call it) on fire. They started walking down the school, out of the building and into the grounds. Passing the quidditch pitch, they looked at each other, smirks creeping onto their faces as plans formed in their heads.
Within a few minutes, Grant was swooping through the air on his broom, with Remus close behind him, as he had stolen James’s broom. Remus panted, not being able to keep up with the lightning-fast speed Grant propelled through the air with. They had been doing this since they were second years, with Remus always chasing Grant. Grant dipped down, swerving round a tree. Remus powered on, determined to get to Grant. Trying desperately to succeed he steered around the tree. Grant picked up speed after seeing Remus could handle it again, and shot straight into the sky. But he could feel himself tiring, and Remus went towards Grant, too tired to be anywhere but earshot.
Grant sent down a teasing insult, and Remus could barely laugh. His chest felt like he was being pressed under a ton of bricks, and his limbs refused to work properly. He let out a choked sound, before finally getting out something.
“helpu fi alla i ddim gwneud hyn,” he let out, chest heaving, and eyes closing as he felt himself slip away. He was such a fucking failure, couldn’t even fly to his friend properly.
Grant had turned around, cackling, before hearing the small, broken sound leave Remus, and shot down towards him. He watched the other boy’s grip on the broom slip and picked up speed, silently begging himself to get there in time.
As Remus’s eyes fell fully closed and his grip slipped, he fell through the air, and right into Grant’s arms, panting and shivering, he held his friend close. He slowly placed Remus onto the broom, placing him so Remus’s unconscious head lay softly against Grant’s jumper and denim sheathed chest. Gripping his hand, he slowly lowered them and once they reached the ground, he didn’t bother taking him to Madame Pomfrey. In the early hours of a time near two am, the party had ended and most people lay passed out, except for most of the houses that weren’t Gryffindor. Remus slowly opened his eyes, and smelling the scent of coffee and lilies, he knew he was safe, wherever he was. Grant had carried him, in the same position as them on the broom, into his own dorm. He figured it would be easier than to wake up a bunch of hungover people just to do something he could do himself. He had also noticed that Remus had stirred, and looked up at him with bleary eyes.
Remus’s vision fully came into focus as he was lowered out of Grant’s arms and into a soft bed. He sat up, panicking, before instantly calming after noticing his friend rootling through his healing stuff. Grant was a born healer, always worrying about things and people, and always wanting to make a change.
“Grant?”
“I’m sorry,” was the reply, his thick Welsh accent coming through. His broken English and the way his voice was choked up could tell that Grant fully blamed himself.
“Mae’n ddrwg iawn gen i Remus rwy'n gwybod ei fod yn lleuad lawn yn fuan, gyda'ch iechyd yn dirywio ar hyn o bryd, eich poen cronig ac asthma, ni ddylwn fod wedi eich gwthio fel yna, ni allaf ymddiheuro digon,” he said quietly, tears falling silently from his eyes, before he quickly wiped them away.
“It’s not your fault”
“ydi fy annwyl, mae'n”
Remus glanced over at him, to see he had moves closer and was muttering painkilling spells onto his abdomen, slowly lifting his shirt, and after taking in the scars, Grant spotted a fresh bruise.
“Beth yw hwn, annwyl?” he said, concerned, and tracing the outline of it with the pad of his finger. Remus’s abdomen bucked in pain reflex, and Grant flinched, apologising quickly, and placing a painkilling spell on it, before giving Remus a spoon of medicine to take.
“It isn’t that serious, just lay on a book and hurt myself on the corner”, Remus replied, face heating.
Grant took the spoon back, before leaving the dorm to grab Remus’s stuff. As he came back into the dorm with blankets, pillows and a stack of books, Remus had stood up, prepared to go sleep in his dorm.
“Please rest, fy lleuad,” Grant murmured. His dorm was empty, because of the party and also the fact that he didn’t have many friends, so there were spare beds if needed. Remus made a beeline for one, but Grant grabbed his arm, softly, and steered him towards his own bed. In the time Moony had hobbled towards one of the spares in his weak state, Grant had managed to set up a little nest with Remus’s books on the table next to it.
He fell into sleep after watching his friend kill the lights, but lit his area of sight with his wand. He quickly changed into pyjamas, seemed to have remembered that Remus was still in robes and shuffled to a drawer, pulling out a muggle pyjama set, much different to the sleep robes he usually wore. Remus didn’t have much energy, so he changed slowly, before giving in and letting Grant help. After all of this, Grant lay on one of the spare beds, and both were knocked out cold.