AN: My entry for the QFLC, round five. My team, the Arrows, chose the character Remus Lupin, and I had to write something about him in his fourth year of Hogwarts. The prompts I chose for this round are the word count, bronze, and return the favour. Prompts 6, 10, and 12 respectively.
For once I don't have a lot of comments about this story. The title is from the song Wolf Like Me by TV On The Radio (because why not choose the song about werewolves for Werewolf McWerewolf), but aside from that that's pretty much it? Unless you wanna PM me and ask about all the background stuff I was thinking about when I wrote this, which anyone is free to do.
Total word count: 1, 234, as according to the Fanfiction's word count. (Let me tell you, this was the hardest thing I have written in months. I WRITE A LOT OKAY. I HAD TO CUT IT DOWN A LOT. And now I kinda wanna do a longer version of this?)
On a Thursday morning, Remus wakes up with a stiff neck and an aching back, lying under the twisted form of the ugliest bronze statue he's ever seen.
By virtue of having been friends with James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew for three, now four, consecutive years and surviving, Remus doesn't immediately panic. Rather, he flails his hands out to slap the grimacing face of the statue, reflexive, and yelps in pain.
He pulls his hands back and curls into a ball around them, whimpers once at the sting in his knuckles before glancing around.
The hallway he's in is dark and cold, but not damp like he half expects. It's a narrow hallway that ends with a dead end to his left, a sharp corner to his right. The stone beneath him is as cold as the lake in winter, greedily eating up Remus' warmth and not giving any of it back. The walls are bare except for the brackets of torches, spaced evenly, dim enough that they don't offer much light at all.
He grimaces, turning onto his back, then grimaces even more at the shadowed face of the statue above him.
The statue is of an old man, face twisted up in agony as he stoops over, his back bent into an awkward position. Remus thinks he can see long, sharp canines.
Right. A vampire.
"Of course it is," he mutters, flopping out of his protective pill-bug arrangement to lie spread eagle on the floor. When he tries to tug his legs up to push himself out from underneath the statue, he finds that he can't move them at all. Remus lifts his head up to look down at his feet in trepidation.
Remus sees his ankles tied to the legs of the statue with a rope.
"Of course." He says, voice even flatter than before. He flops back down to stare into the eyes of the vampire statue, deadpan.
He considers the situation. First, he is nowhere near the Gryffindor tower. This hall's one of the dungeons ones, and not one he knows since he's never seen this awful statue before. Second - he woke up here. With all of his clothes still on, thankfully, but his bag is nowhere in sight, and his wand -
Remus futilely checks both of his pockets for his wand. He finds a wrapped candy, a piece of parchment with the words transfig. hw - essay due monday, but no wand.
He scowls.
Three: this is probably a prank, but not by his friends. Which brings him to his final point. Remus doesn't remember falling asleep. There's a great possibility that someone stunned him and carried him off - just before dinner, judging by the quiet rumble of his stomach.
He heaves out a sigh as he wriggles around the statue to start picking at the knot of the rope wrapped tightly around both of his ankles.
Whoever did this is probably a Slytherin. The careful planning behind the prank is characteristic of a one, or at the very least someone very determined.
Several minutes later, he corrects himself.
Definitely a Slytherin. Whoever tied the knot charmed it, so Remus can't untie it no matter how much he tries. Only a Slytherin would plan that far ahead, use that subtle of a charm, be that mean.
He gives the rope a desperate look. He doesn't have his wand, and he was probably out for at least three hours before he woke up, and no one has come by yet. It could take a couple more hours before someone finds him. Maybe a day.
James and the others would be looking for him, wouldn't they?
Remus swallows thickly, tugging once more at the knot. The skin around his ankle is red now, rubbed raw and stinging. He pauses, curled awkwardly and abdomen burning, when he hears footsteps.
"Hello?" He calls, hoping that it isn't someone who would beat him up.
The footsteps pause, then resume, the pace faster and growing steadily louder. A faint shadow appears on the wall, long and hard to make out. Remus waits with bated breath as he sees the toes of a worn, leather shoe peek out from behind the corner.
Severus Snape steps into view.
All the air whooshes out of Remus as he slumps back onto the floor in disappointment.
"Problems, Lupin?" Snape calls out. He is, inexplicably, drawing closer rather than turning around and going back from where he came. Remus grimaces up at the statue.
"Maybe," Remus replies as Snape's face came into view. Snape raises an eyebrow as he stares down at Remus, which is - fair, he supposed. Remus is definitely having problems.
Snape puts down something next to Remus with an air of displeasure.
Remus looks to the side to see what Snape put down. It's -
"Is that my bag?" Remus blurts out, eyes wide in surprise. Snape scowls, whipping out his wand from his sleeve. Remus flinches away reflexively, then regrets it when Snape's scowl becomes a blank slate.
Snape moves around Remus to crouch by his ankles, and without asking or giving any warning, clamps a surprisingly warm hand above Remus' ankles. "Hold still," Snape mutters when Remus tries to pull away.
Remus stills, but only because moving around made Snape's thumb brush against the raw skin of Remus' ankle, which stings terribly. Snape only holds onto his leg even tighter, shooting Remus a warning look with dark, narrowed eyes.
"What are you doing?" Remus asks, slightly nervous.
Snape points his wand at Remus' ankles. Remus briefly considers the amount of damage Snape could do right now. "Untying you," Snape answers curtly. He mutters a spell under his breath, pronunciation smooth and crisp.
Remus blinks in incomprehension. "Didn't your housemates tie me up in the first place?"
"Yes," Snape responds. "And I'm untying you. After having fetched your things."
Remus blinks again.
Snape looks up from his work to look Remus in the eyes. They stare at each other for a moment before Snape looks away, answering Remus' silent question almost flippantly. "You helped me. Once."
"Really?" Remus asks, honestly bewildered.
Snape nods, muttering one final word in Latin. The knot unties, and the rope slides off of Remus like water. Snape snatches the rope up and pockets it, standing swiftly.
"Consider this returning the favour." Snape elaborates. "I don't like owing people. Don't do it again."
And then he walks off, disappearing around the corner.
Remus is only more confused, but he digs out his wand from his bag, and scrambles up. "When did I - ?" He starts, thinking back. The only time he ever had an evenly mildly friendly conversation with Snape was - oh.
On the train to Hogwarts, with all of the other anxious first years, Remus shared a compartment with Snape. He remembers talking to Snape, or at least trying to, and offering a chocolate frog as the sun set outside of the train, throwing the whole compartment into a hazy orange, dreamlike. He remembers Snape taking it hesitantly, smiling back even more hesitantly when Remus smiled at him.
Remus frowns down at his hands, at the wand held loosely in his right and the bag in his other. He doesn't know what to think of Snape now.