Not Alone
Alone in the dormitory, the walls adorned by the crimson and gold accents of Gryffindor house, Remus Lupin cried. He had only just returned from his stay in the Shrieking Shack, desperately in need of a bath. His body sluggish with exhaustion, he limped to his bed and slowly slumped to the floor. Reaching under it, he opened his shabby suitcase, his sparse belongings scattered before him. He dumped the contents of his dirty bag, his heart heavy. On his knees, he examined the shredded fabric of his last decent pair of trousers, which had been destroyed the night before. He had used magic to mend them the best he could, but the fabric was damaged beyond repair. He hadn’t the money to purchase more, and he was unsure how he would make it through the rest of the term. He was considering the use of spellotape to hold everything together when the door opened behind him, revealing his best friend.
“Remus! You’re back,” he cheered, quickly coming toward him. Remus hurriedly wiped his tears away, and stuffed the evidence under his bed, his pale cheeks burning with embarrassment. Sirius noticed his friend’s blotchy face, and his smile slipped from his lips, “What’s wrong, Remus? Who hurt you?”
Remus knew he was still covered in bloody scratches that he had not yet treated, and that self-inflicted bruises were likely forming on his blemished skin. “No one, Sirius. I… I, erm, fell.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow, but crouched beside his friend, gently raising his chin to meet his eyes, “Remus, I am your friend. You are not alone here.” He bent down, wrapping his arms around the scrawny boy and squeezing him tightly.
Startled, Remus tensed for a long moment before embracing him back, finally allowing his many tears to fall.