Haven and Hell
The dungeons. His haven, his hell.
During his school days, he would hide in the dungeons. He would run away from Potter, Black and their friends and hide down here. He became brilliant at potions.
They had all left and he had returned. Potter, Black and Pettigrew were gone. Lupin wouldn't show his face. He was back in the place that was his safe haven, his security blanket.
Life was looking up for him. He was teaching his best subject.
Then a relative of Blacks had come and ruined it. A small metaphouragas freak named Nymphadora Tonks. She was as bad as her cousin. His sacred space was hell.
The freak had left and he had 2 years of peace.
Then hell rained again. In the recreations of James Potter and Sirius Black. Fred and George Weasley.
They played the same pranks as Potter and Black, and then some.
The dungeons were hell.
And now Potter. Like his father, and like his mother.
Hated by one, haunted by the other.
No matter what the dungeons were his constants.
His constants. Haven and Hell.