Running with wolves

Sirius was nothing in this world if he was not dramatic. Remus thought that this should be annoying and so he reacted as he thought he should in these situations. He crossed his arms or rolled his eyes, checking his watch and only making the occasional sarcastic comment, having noticed more than once that comments of any kind tend to egg the boy on. Remus really thought they were funny, but in his mind, if he laughed, Sirius would win. This may seem incredibly stubborn but Remus was nothing in this world if he was not stubborn.

Tonight was one of those nights in particular, in which Sirius had decided to be dramatic and Remus had decided to be stubborn.

"My boys!" Sirius addressed them all as he leaped onto Remus' bed, towering over them all which was a rare occurrence as Sirius happened to be shorter than all of them apart from Peter. "I have an announcement."

"Don't call us that." Remus rolled his eyes, kicking Sirius' legs in a feeble attempt to get Sirius out of his personal space. Remus quite enjoyed his space but that was an impossible luxury when living with Sirius black.

"What exactly is it that you have to announce?" Peter asked, looking up from a book on herbology. "I don't think you could do anything else to shock us at this point, unless you were planning on mounting Moony and giving us all a show right now."

And for absolutely no reason, Remus' stomach dropped to the fucking floor. Not even to the floor, through the floor. It burned through the carpet, crashed through the stone floors down to the Slytherin dungeons to witness a card game between Regulus Black and Barty Crouch Jr or whatever those two did in their free time. It made Remus feel sick. Sick and dizzy and weird. Fucking confused. Wait... no. Not confused. Angry. At Peter. How the fuck was it an okay thing to say?

Sirius fell silent. He looked over at Remus, locking his gaze for a split second before he realised and then his eyes sprinted across the room, avoiding Remus at all costs.

His stomach fell further. Into the ground, digging a hole down to the the Earth's core to crash through the solid layers, causing irreparable damage to the ancient rock. Remus didn't think that he would ever find his stomach again, which was a shame because he really like toast.

"Well, that's not going to happen, is it?" Remus clapped his hands together, loudly. Too loud. He winced at the volume of his own creation. What was he doing? Where had all this confidence come from all of a sudden? He just wanted this to be over. "So, Sirius, what is your announcement?"

It had been like watching a building explode in reverse, as if Remus was watching the fire implode, restoring each and every stone and piece of rubble to its former glory. Sirius gained all of his usual composure in a split second, a smirk spreading across his face.

"Boys!" He began. "This night, this full moon, will be the best of the best full moon nights that we have ever had. I am determined to make this the best and most fun adventure we have all had... if, and only if, you all are prepared to help me, prepared to put in the effort. We must make this year our bitch. Grab it by the metaphorical balls and make it our own. This year is our fucking year and it starts tonight. Are we ready, boys?"

"This again?" Remus laughed, his stomach finding its home again. He'd been so fucking worried about nothing. "Dramatic should be named after you, my friend."

"I swear you gave us that exact speech last year." James grinned, devilishly handsome. Remus got what Lily saw in him. He got what all the other girls saw in him too. But James only ever saw Lily and Remus respected that. He not only respected it, he envied it too. Remus had never found a person that he couldn't tear away his gaze from. Well, maybe, apart from Sirius but best friends didn't count. He couldn't stop looking at Sirius because everything that he did just screamed for everyone around him to look, to stare, to admire. Looking at Sirius didn't count because everyone looked at Sirius.

"Because I am a firm believer in making every year better than the last." Sirius wasn't the optimist that he made everyone believe he was. He was hurt but he wanted to heal because he enjoyed fun and fun is no fun when you feel shit. And plenty of things made Sirius feel shit. His parents for starters. He left them last year and moved in with the Potters. He'd been acting larger than life itself but Remus could see him and he saw the hurt. Sirius was never one to give up. He didn't step down from a challenge and up until last year, that was all that his parents were, a challenge. He had to give up in the end and Sirius didn't like to give up. Sirius had told Remus this. Just Remus.

They told each other things that they couldn't tell anyone else. Things like secret wishes that parents were better people, things like accidental patricide.

"What time do you need to be down in the infirmary?" James asked, rudely interrupting Sirius' crusade and Remus' little train of thought.

"Sundown is at nine." Remus shrugged, checking his watch. His scarred wrist underneath the hardware, reminding him of what the evening had in store. It was all well and good for the others, they chose to transform and from what Remus had heard about it, the transition was seamless and painless. "So probably about eight thirty? Madame Pomfrey always wants me down there with time to spare. No room for mistakes and all that."

"Mistakes?" Peter asked, painfully confused. His voice bordering on a nervous giggle. "Have there ever been any... mistakes?" He was afraid. Remus had seen Peter afraid a lot of different times but never afraid of him.

"Are you seriously asking Remus if he's ever killed anyone?" James' expression was one of horror also but horror at Peter. James was nice. Too nice. Remus wouldn't trust himself either, he was tall and skinny and quiet, covered in scars. He was the clone of every teenage murderer in his mothers favourite mystery books and programmes.

"No, no. Of course not." Peter rushed to correct himself, turning to Remus. "I know you've never killed anyone. I trust you."

Those last three words struck like an arrow through the torso. His stomach dropped again and again and again. Trust. Trust felt like a feeling towards a dog that might bite you. Trust felt like leaving a toddler in a room full of antique glass ornaments. Trust felt like needing to trust someone. Like 'I trust you because you need to be trusted'. Remus felt like someone who needed to be trusted. As if without the trust of good people, he couldn't be trusted.

Peter rarely thought about what he said before he said it. But he thought about what he had just said. You could tell.

"Thanks mate." Remus nodded. A small nod. "We should- I should get going."

He basically bolted from the room as fast as his long, clumsy legs could take him and as soon as he was in the hallway, he could breathe.

Breathe. That's all there was to it. Oxygen. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Just fucking breathe. Why couldn't he do that? Why couldn't he just be a normal person? Be a teenager. A teenager that breathes and hangs out with his normal teenage friends, doing normal things like studying or getting wasted. Not turning into animals and running around a forest. It was fun. The best night of Remus' life was that first full moon when they were all together. But sometimes Remus wished he could have the best night of his life at a party or playing pranks.

It took him a moment to notice that he was sweating and hyperventilating in ball in the middle of an empty corridor. He tried to open his eyes, straighten out his posture but the lights were too bright and he couldn't just fucking breathe. Breathe.

Breathe.

He stood up too fast, his head whirring as he attempted to navigate the corridors and stairs down to the infirmary. The lights hit him around the head and he was thankful that curfew had come and gone since no one was around to witness his sober drunken hobbling.

Breathe.

And then he was at the grand doors to the infirmary. Funny. Big doors. Sad room. Funny. Hospital room. Like when dad died. He went to a big sad room.

Breathe.

Or not.

Muffled voices washed over him like waves over a sandcastle, destroying its structure, leaving a soggy mass of particles to melt into the floor until it was nothing.

Nothing.

He followed the voices. They got clearer as he got closer. They were angry voices. Yelling voices. Bad voices. Sad voices. Voices that had been buried.
~~~

"Where the fuck have you been?" He heard from behind the door that lay open slightly so that a golden sliver of light illuminated the dark corridor that Remus had just entered as quietly as he possibly could. "Don't ignore me son."

The voice was eerily calm with a grating tone at the back of his throat.

"I went for a walk." Remus walked through the door, hoping that a half lie wouldn't make his father too angry.

"I hope your little walk wasn't to a friends house."

"It wasn't." It was.

"Good. But just know that if you are lying to me, there will be consequences."

"I promise. I wasn't."

"That's good to hear because I know all about your little friend from the village. What's his name? Rhys? And I have heard things about him, things that I don't like."

"He's really nice."

"DON'T interrupt me. I do not want you talking to him or even being near him. If people see you two together, they will talk and they will say things about you. Things that make all of us in this house look bad. Do you understand me, son?"

"Yes." He mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Yes." Remus half shouted, hopefully clear enough. He went to ask his father a question before quickly deciding otherwise. "What..."

"Speak up!"

Remus wondered what could possibly happen if he continued with what he was going to say, so he carried on despite it probably not being the best idea in the book.

"What do they say about him?" Remus choked out. "In the village. What do they say about him?"

"I think you know, son."

"I don't. I don't know."

"Don't be dense, it doesn't suit you."

"I'm not being dense."

"Am I supposed to believe that you don't hear what they call him in the village? Merlin, you really are as stupid as you look." He laughed. Why was he laughing?

All that Remus could find himself capable of doing was standing there with his lips parted constantly on the verge of starting to speak but he never quite got there.

Lyall cut him off before he could attempt to speak. "He's a f*g, Remus."

Stomach dropped. That word made him feel nauseous to the point that he felt as if he could throw up and tears pricked in his ears. "Oh."

"Now can you see that you shouldn't be around him."

"I don't care what they say."

Lyall stood up, fire in his eyes. "You should."

"Why? Give me one good reason."

"I'll fucking give you a good reason, I didn't raise a f*ggot."

"So first I'm a monster and now I'm a f*ggot. What am I? Make up your mind!" He probably shouldn't have shouted. Lyall didn't like that but Remus was in the mood for an argument tonight.

Before he knew it, Lyall had him by the shirt collar, marching him up to the wall behind them both. Remus' head hit the drywall, denting it and cracking the paint.

"Maybe that Rhys kid has turned you into a fucking puff."

"Maybe he has." Remus raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I am like him. Maybe I didn't go for a walk, maybe I went to his house and maybe we fucked." This was all a lie. Rhys may have been gay but Remus wasn't and neither of them had ever seen each other as more than friends. He hadn't even been at Rhys' house. Rhys moved years ago, didn't Lyall know that?

Lyall brought Remus closer so that he could bash the poor boy against the wall again but Remus took this as his chance and shoved his father off of him. Lyall tripped over his feet a little but seemed to gain the ability to stay upright after a long few minutes.

"Are you drunk?" Remus asked.

"That' none of your fucking business."

Remus stepped closer and Lyall stepped further away from him. Was he scared? Remus didn't know but he wanted to. So, he stepped closer again.

"Don't come near me. I don't want you to infect me with your disease."

"The wolf one or they gay one?"

"Fuck you." Lyall stepped back one more time, catching himself on the edge of the couch and staggering backwards onto the floor. The only thing to catch his fall being the corner of a very solid wooden coffee table. His head smacked it with a painful cracking sound that Remus didn't know whether it was Lyall's skull or his neck. By the looks of it, it could have been either.

Lyall was a big drinker so it wasn't a surprise when blood started to pour out of the back of his head like water running across linoleum from a cracked glass.