Confrontations

Summery: Three different confrontations work toward the same goal. Sirius wants to know if Remus is or isn't … Remus/Sirius, slash.

Rating: M, for adult content in later chapters.

1971

"No. He can't be. They wouldn't let him in the school if he was." James said, curling his legs up to his chest, leaning back on his bed. His face held a sense of fear over the thought. Of course, it wasn't every day that he sat and tried to figure out if one of his good friends is a monster.

"He must. What else could it be?" Sirius counteracted, pacing the room. His eyes kept flickering over to Remus' bed, studying it as if it held the answer to their question. Peter watched curiously as Sirius moved to the empty bed, as he opened the curtains. He ran his hands carefully over the smoothed sheets, looking around the inside of the confined space.

"Maybe his relatives really are that sick. I mean, diseases run in families all the time. Maybe his just got the short end of the stick and they are all sick most of the time. They could all be anemic," Peter suggested. "Why do you care so much?"

Sirius waved him off. He honestly didn't know why he cared. He just assumed that if any of the other boys were distant and strange, he'd question them as well. He supposed it was a character flaw of over-inquisitive nature. "That doesn't explain the wounds. What about those big scars he has? They're all over his arms. Don't tell me you didn't see them when he was putting on his shirt the other day. Why else would he always wear thick, long clothes and refuse to change in front of us?"

"I don't know, Sirius. He might just be cold all the time, for all we know. Or maybe his family is abusive. That's it! We need to stop all the nonsense about Remus being a werewolf. It's obvious that it's his family who is the real problem. They always want him to be around so they can use him as a bloody punching bag. Poor bloke," James said sadly, sounding quite sure. Sirius knew everything there was about abuse, and he knew that at least his mother made sure his scars were not visible. This just wasn't the same. But he wasn't about to tell the other boys about that part of his life.

"What about the shapes of his ears? His teeth? His eyes? What about all the other signs? I mean, come on; it's in every textbook in the school!" No response. Sirius couldn't hold back his frustration. He knew they knew he was right, they just didn't want to confess to it. He admitted that the thought was horrifying, but this was Remus. He was a good chap. Quiet, strange, but good. He was the glue of sanity that held them all together. How bad could it be that he was a werewolf? "Why is it, then, that he always leaves around the full moon? Isn't that curious enough for you?" Sirius asked.

James stood, facing Sirius. "It is, but we've only known him for a year. How can we just say, 'Oi, Remus. As if you are not strange enough as it is, we think that you're a werewolf on top of it all.' He would be insulted for sure."

"He's not strange," Sirius mumbled, looking over at Remus' bed again. "He's just-"

James clapped his hands squarely on Sirius' shoulders, making him face him. "I mean, really. Werewolf. It's ridiculous, and you know it Black."

"Everyone knows werewolves are not allowed to roam freely. Think of the mass chaos. They'd be eating people left and right. The ministry wouldn't allow it. That's why you never see them around, because they're animals that are locked away," Peter said. "My father knows because he works for the Ministry. They deal with those creatures every day."

That's what Sirius had always been taught, too. He'd never met a werewolf in all his life. His family had ties with a vampire clan in France, but he never heard of civilized people being in contact with werewolves. In the back of his mind he even questioned that. But they would discuss that after he convinced the other boys that he was right. "They made an exception for him, then. Maybe it's because he's young. But I know, for a fact, that Remus is a werewolf!"

Just as those last words left his lips, the three boys were startled to hear the heavy door to their dorm creak open. There stood Remus in the doorway, looking like a cornered animal, hand still on the door, looking like he would bolt at any moment. Under the long cloak, they could see bandages just at the collar of his neck and on the cuff of both arms. His face was beaten with small bruises just above his left eye brow and on his bottom lip. He quivered visibly, but tried to keep a calm air. "What's going on, guys?" He said this steadily, but his voice cracked at the last second. Sirius was close enough to see how shallow his breathing was and it hit a spot down in his stomach to see him like this. The tension in the room was so thick it swathed Sirius's skin like a scalding fog.

"Hey Remus," James said nervously. "How was your family?"

Sirius could see him strain to stay calm, and he relaxed his shoulders to show them that nothing was wrong. "Everyone was fine. Mother was in a better mood than last time. Her tuberculosis is finally lifting, so she was laughing more than usual. Aunt Gillian is still sick with fever, however. We still can't figure out what it is. I'm probably going to have to go back to see her next month. I hope not, at least."

There was a long pause that left Remus looking between each boy. "I thought you were going home to your great grandfather's wake," Peter said, moving behind James.

Remus flustered and forgot all about covering up his shaking. His hand gripped the door handle again and moved to run but Sirius dived after him, pinning him to the wall. Remus nearly collapsed against him, his heart pounding furiously and his body set into near convulsions. "Get off me, Sirius. I don't want to hurt you," Remus cried, pushing against Sirius to let him go. James and Peter came running, completing the circle around Remus.

"It's okay," Sirius said calmly, fighting to gain some control over the other boy. "It's okay that we know."

"No! It's not okay!" Remus shouted, gasping for breath. "I'm warning you, get off of me." When Sirius would not let up, Remus let a growl from the back of throat that nearly made all three boys yelp in terror, and his eyes flashed dangerously. And with strength like nothing he had ever known, Sirius was pushed back, nearly crashing into the trunk across the room. If James and Peter hadn't caught him, he was sure that force of his fall could've broken something, whether it be a piece of furniture or one of his bones.

Remus backed into the corner of the room, sliding down the wall into a crumpled heap, hyperventilating, scratching desperately at his throat. "Water," he choked, his eyes streaming, his face as pale as death. He was going to pass out at any moment. Peter rushed to the tin pitcher by the bathroom, handing it hastily to Remus, who downed it greedily. They all stood there, horrified, as Remus gulped, eyes clenched tightly. Sirius had never seen Remus panic like that, and it terrified him. He was so accustomed to Remus being so quiet and mild. The sudden change made him aware of how serious the situation really was. Remus was capable of anything. He was not like them; not human. An unfamiliar thrill ran up his spine, one that he could not quite categorize. Instead, he shoved the feeling to the back of his mind for later evaluation. What was important now was that Remus was his friend and that was all that mattered to him at the moment.

Remus threw the empty pitcher across the room, causing the three to jump. He breathed deeply, eyes out of focus. Sirius could see the wounds he tried to cover start to break open again, the blood staining the bandages. Remus noticed these as well and he ripped off his heavy cloak revealing under his blood stained white collar shirt many more opened wounds. They scattered his torso, from his belly to his collar bone. Sirius took a step forward, not realizing what he was doing. Remus shuddered away from him, huddling against the wall. He hid his face in his fists, soaked bangs scattered over his white knuckles. He drew his knees to his chest, staying dangerously still.

"I'm sorry," Remus said quietly. "I'll pack my stuff tonight. You'll never have to see me again, I swear. Just pretend that you never knew me. You don't want to be associated with a monster, anyway. Merlin knows how that will mare your lives." This last statement was dripping with disgust, whether for himself or the others, Sirius was not sure and he shook his head.

"No one will know about this," James said, stepping forward. All fear had left his face. "You're our friend, Remus. No matter what you are, you're still that."

Peter shuffled his feet nervously. But after he took a deep breath of air, he stood up straight. "James is right. We don't care about you being a … a werewolf."

Remus lifted his face from his hands slowly, looking Sirius in the eye. "And you? Are you going to tell the whole school about me?" His voice held something that shook Sirius' very core, and it hurt him.

He reached down for his hand. Remus looked at it disbelievingly, his fists tightening. Impatiently, Sirius grabbed it, pulling him to his feet. Remus swayed on the spot as Sirius brushed his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles, careful to avoid contacting the many new, bleeding lacerations. Before Sirius knew what came over him, he gently took the boy in his arms in a brotherly hug. "Come on. Let's get you to the infirmary. You must still be sore. We don't have to go in with you, but at least let us walk with you," he said in his ear, not letting go. James and Peter came up from behind Sirius, putting their hands on Remus' shoulders and back, reassuring that they meant it as well. Remus just stood there, gripping at Sirius' back tightly, burying his face in his neck. Sirius felt tears soak his skin, but he would never tell the others. Sirius wanted only to be his pillar for that one moment. After a year of watching him closely, studying his every move possibly just set a strange bond between them. It was one that he wasn't ready to let go of. So he held on as tightly to it as he could.

A.N./ The next chapter is almost finished. So, if you want the next installment soon, you have to comment. Sounds like a plan? I think so.