A/N: Well, any of you who follow me probably want to kill me, since this is my fifth or so story on here and none but the poem are finished. The funny part is, there's waaayyy more on my desktop. Haha. Don'tkillme.

But anyways, drama aside, welcome to my second (does it count when the other's not much longer?) Harry Potter fic! It's RemusxSirius because they're adorable! As per my usual style, it's plenty dark and plenty fluff - basically like mixing vanilla and chocolate together :D

Read and lemme know what you guys think! :)

I don't own shit, 'cept my plot.

I sat with my legs folded underneath me, leaning forward to the mirror and carefully, oh-so-carefully, applied the skin-evening potion to my skin. Smoothing the last over my cheek, I leaned back to survey my work.

Perfect.

The ugly purple and yellow bruises were gone, the long scars hidden under the potion's covering powers. The first rays of sunlight were peeking through the window, and I quickly screwed the cap back on and stuffed it in my bag. The others would be up soon, and I needed to leave the lavatory before they came in.

Grabbing my bag, I slung it over my shoulder, gray canvas bumping softly against my hip. Hooking a thumb in the strap, I shoved open the door, closing it quickly, knowing it squeaked if it was done slowly. There was movement in one of the beds, and I froze. It's occupant merely mumbled something about cheese and sausages, and settles back snoring.

Ah, so Peter then. The boy's addicted to food, I've never seen him without some sort of snack, nor have I ever seen anyone eat that much. The poor kid's wider then most doorways.

I crept cautiously across the floor, the cushioning and silence spell I cast doing a wonderful job at hiding my already quiet gait. I climbed onto my bed, crossing my legs and placing my bag on my lap. I stared out of the window to my right, watching the sun rise over the Forbidden Forest.

I don't turn, even as I hear the other boys stirring, sitting up, and yawning their way back to reality.

"F-first call!" Yawns the boy next to me, Sirius. I don't bother listen to the third boy, James, as he retorts tiredly. In fact, I stop listening entirely until my attention is caught as I hear my name. Still not bothering to turn, I merely focus my enhanced senses on the hushed conversation going on between the two raven haired boys as they dress.

"Lupin's already been to the showers, again, Jamie. We're never going to catch the bloke. He's just such a bloody early riser…and it's like he knows…" Sirius mumbled, and I can hear the fabric as it slides over his skin.

"Sirius," James whines, drawing out the vowels in the other boy's name. "Give it up. So he's a bit loopy, we've known that. Hell, the whole school has known that. But don't you think you're being a bit…obsessive, mate?"

I sent a silent thank you to James. The last thing I need is to have to be even more careful then I already am, because honestly, I don't think it's possible. And if one of them catches me, it's all over. I'm done. I'll be expelled, possibly killed if the Ministry finds out. And I like life, thank you very much. Even if it doesn't always like me.

And Sirius is right about one thing - I do know what he's been trying. What with my sensitive hearing, it wasn't hard to overhear his plan. But I'd have to make sure a blunder like that doesn't happen again. I'm no Seer, I can't predict the future. I'm just a messed up, skinny, bookworm werewolf.

Totally normal.

Totally not liable to kill anyone once a month.

Really, I'm not. I'm locked away in the…"Shrieking" Shack. I hate the name my fellow students have given it, the thought of what it refers to makes me feel physically sick. But in all honestly, if it was you trapped and mutilating your own body in that damn house every month, you wouldn't be too fond of it either. The bruises never really go away, since I can't distract myself enough to keep the damage low. And by distract, I mean regain control.

It's not me, that beast, that - that monster that takes my body every month. It's something foreign and terrible. I can feel my bones break , my skin tear, my teeth form fangs. It's horridly painful, but there's nothing I can do to stop it. And after is worse, my skin itches and I claw the fur away, my teeth shrink back, my bones snap back into place, and I can still feel every single scratch and cut I've given myself.

I don't understand what kind of sick bastards think it's a good idea to pass this curse on to others, why would anyone want to experience this? It's not worth the advanced senses. Speed? Try training. Agility? Again, training. Strength? Why, so you have to monitor every single thing you do in fear of breaking it, because you simply can't tell what's normal anymore?

That's it, really. Once it happens often enough, you become sort of detached from reality. You don't feel -pain as much, though, because to you it's all minor, like a skinned knee. Broken arm? Laughable. And you heal quicker, anyways. Your perception of normalcy is skewed at best, and you live in constant worry of slipping up, of doing something no one else can and someone noticing.

I don't realize I'm crying until hushed whispers catch my attention again.

"Is Lupin…crying?"

"I think so…"

"Bloody hell! He's so weird! He's just sitting there, like he's frozen. It's not normal, mates, I'm telling you. There's something off about the bloke."

Well, fuck. James noticed first, Peter caught on, and Sirius…well, I've had to be extra careful around him for a while, but this is ridiculous. How did I loose control like this? Seriously, it's degrading. I blink furiously, reining the last few rebel tears in and wiping the others away with my palms.

"It's time for breakfast." I say quietly, turning to their shocked - but quickly hidden beneath forced smiles - expressions, leaving one hand over my mouth. I don't talk much, at all if I can avoid it. My voice is awfully soft, and I can't stand it. I'm a werewolf, for Merlin's sake. Couldn't I be just a smidge intimidating?

James is the first to recover, Ushering Peter out like a child and purposefully knocking Sirius's shoulder, jolting him out of his daze. He doesn't move, though. I can feel a heavy blush settle on my cheeks, and I drop my eyes to his shoes, unable to stare into his grey eyes anymore.

They're frightening, sometimes, his eyes. Like they're looking right through my every wall and shield. It's downright unsettling.

"What are you hiding?" He says softly, and I know his gaze hasn't left my face. I drop my hand, ignoring how the sleeve of my much-too-large sweater had been covering it. But then I see a smudge of the potion, and my eyes widen.

Did that mean-? No, no, no. This can't be happening.

But it does.

And I can hear his gasp, his footsteps as he inches closer, trying to get a better look. My eyes are squeezed shut, I don't think my face can get much hotter.

"Lupi-Remus, you're…is that a bruise?" He asks incredulously. I feel a feather light touch on my cheek, and in an instant I've flown back and am balled in the corner, eyes wide and staring as he stand frozen, hand still up, but eyes locked on my own.

"What are you?" He breathes, but he doesn't run away. Confusion settles in as he slowly lowers his hand, taking slow steps around my bed. Towards me, not away to the door as I predicted. He kneels about two feet away, expression open and worried.

"Remus - That is your name, right? You never speak, so I kind of lose you. Sorry." He asks, blushing lightly on the last part. I find myself nodding, knees drawn up tight to me chest, only my eyes visible of the top. My hands are wrapped tight around my stomach, the overlong sleeves pooling on the floor along with the rest of the sweater. It's the same with my trousers, they're too large and I look pathetic wrapped in gigantic clothes, drowning in them.

"I'm not going to hurt you, yeah? I just want to know what happened. Did you…did someone brawl with you or something? Can't imagine how you came out alive if you did…" He says, eyes drifting up to the side as he says the last bit, the ghost of a joking smile on his face before he refocuses. My eyes are narrowed, now, and I shift, bringing my hands up and clasping them on my mouth, one folded over the other. I can feel my eyes water, and I jerk my gaze away, blinking furiously again.

This is why I avoid people. I can't handle interactions knowing how easily I could just kill my…acquaintance, if you will. I don't know what else to call people you know the names and brief everything about, but who know not a thing past your name. I can feel his curious stare, and I think he can see the burning blush still on my cheeks. I clench my eyes shut stubbornly, willing my emotions under control.

The second I think I can form a sentence without my voice wavering, I speak. Sadly, the fates were not on my side.

"L-leave me a-alone."

Honestly, how pathetic can you get? Ugh, I hate myself. But Sirius stands, and I can hear retreating footsteps. I don't move, and I'm greeted fifteen minutes later with some very unwelcome noises.

"He just curled up, I think he's hurt. Merlin, I hope he's still there. Oi! Why's she here?" Sirius's voice rings out, and I can hear four sets of feet climbing the stairs. It takes me a minute to pick out who the lightest pair belongs to, and my heart sinks when I do.

Portia Finch.

The brightest witch in the bloody school and the first to figure out my…condition. Threatened by the entire staff to keep her mouth shut, agreed reluctantly. She can't stand me, and she makes sure to give me dirty looks whenever she catches my eye.

"Honestly, boys, grow up. I can't believe you're all so dull. Haven't you figured it out yet?" She says condescendingly, and I freeze. Merlin, Portia, no. Please, no.

"Figured what out?" Bless you, James, for being as thickheaded as you are.

"You know?" Damn you, Sirius, though, for being so bloody brilliant.

"Of course I know," She sniffs, strutting into the room. Sirius follow directly after, eyes flicking to me and widening with surprise before darting back to her. She notices me instantly, and a grin like a Cheshire cat spreads across her face.

"Well," She drawls. "If it isn't the mutt himself."

I can feel my anger flood through me, and I squeeze my eyes shut again and force it back down. I'm sure I'm shaking, and I don't think it's possible to be any more embarrassed. Peter, why did you have to be rich enough to bag a bint like this one?

"Ports…" James warns worriedly, stepping in between us. "What do you know?"

"Well, have any of you noticed how he leaves every month and spends the night somewhere else for a few days?" She asks sweetly, sealing my fate. I whimper, clamping my hands over my ears. It does nothing, I can still hear ever word.

"Well, yeah. He said he was visiting his aunt 'case she's sick or something of the sort." James says, confusion leaking into his voice. And then I remember. The single spell I needed to cast if she ever told, or tried to. I gulped, and pulled my wand from my sleeve. "S-secretumous"

My wand warmed, then went back to normal. Portia chocked, coughing. She tried to speak, and her face went terrified. She turned to me, furious. Shoving past James, she dragged me up by the collar. Right as she was about to hit me, I made a split-second decision and caught her fist.

"I think," I told her calmly, loosing her fingers from my collar as she stared in shock. "I have enough injuries, thank you."

At that moment, the dorm opened again, and - shoving aside poor Peter - Professor Dumbledore strode in. Upon seeing Portia's furious expression and my fear-filled one, he sighed.

"My dear girl, I believe your mouth is much too big for you to have kept this secret after all. Obliviate." He says sadly, and with a flourish, she has a dazed expression and Peter is leading her out after Dumbledore gestured.

"And now," Dumbledore says, turning. "The matter at hand is whether or not you would let your fellow fourth-years in on this great secret, or if you'll have me wipe more memories tonight."

I gulp audibly, eyes flicking to James and Sirius, and Peter as he returns. Peter opens his mouth to ask what happened, but is instantly shushed by James. James is watching Sirius, who has a curious expression on his face as he stares blankly at the floor. Suddenly, as if a switch was hit, he straightens.

"Werewolf."

Well, fuck. I'm done.

Dumbledore doesn't look the least bit surprised, and he retains his everlasting serene expression, clasping his hands in front of him. A growl of frustration slips out, entirely wolf-like, and James stiffens, Peter falling back in a dead faint. Sirius doesn't flinch, stepping forward.

"Of course. It all makes sense. But you haven't-bloody hell, boys, we've been bunking with a werewolf ." He says, incredulous at the end.

"Yes, are you quite done? I haven't killed any of you yet." I ranted, turning away. "Honestly, it's not for lack of reasons. You blokes are absolute nutters and right prats when you want to be. And don't think I'll start to act differently around you just because you've found the light or something. I'm still me, I still don't like you, you still think I'm weird."

While both the shorter boys looked intimidated, Sirius started laughing.

"And to think; four years and I haven't made friends with you and you're this sarcastic wanker with multiple personalities. We should've been mates ages ago." He says, still smiling.

I simply stared at him, mouth open slightly. He held out a hand, and I dropped my gaze to it and returned to his face. "Multiple personalities?"

My scowling glare could probably melt diamond, and he rightfully flinched away and dropped the smile. None of us noticed when Dumbledore made his way out of the room humming, picking lemon drops out of his sleeve (I'm not kidding, I only really noticed in afterthought, but he just plucked them out of nowhere) and popping them in his mouth.

"Er, look, Lupin, I didn't mean to piss you off, bu-" He started uncertainly.

"Oh, really? Fine job of showing it." I stated furiously, not caring I interrupted. "Because not only did you have to let that crazy bitch in here, you had to announce your deduction in front of the very people I tried so bloody hard to keep it from, yourself included! You could've talked to me alone, but no!" I was ranting again, but I didn't care. I drew out the vowel in the last word mockingly, continuing my tirade when he opened his mouth. "I never asked for this! I hate it! And now I have to deal the you tossers shooting me looks every now and then because you're scared I'll eat you. Do you know how irritating that is? It's not enough for my dad to-"

I cut myself off, slamming a hand on my own mouth, blushing furiously, and blinking back the tears I hadn't even known were flowing. Why am I such a pansy? Why can't I be normal and scream my frustrations out without crying like a girl?

I didn't even bother to acknowledge the wolfy whimper that escaped my mouth before I ran from the room angrily, slamming my shoulders into both James and Sirius on my way, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of both taller, more fit boys stumbling back as I pass.

Continue? Yes, no? Review.

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