7
EVERYTHING was laced with the biting feeling of cold, Remus thought. Every time he came down into the dungeons, a certain uneasiness always filled his scarred chest, though he wasn't entirely sure if it was on the premises that he knew more often times than not, he would run into Severus, or if the dungeons was simply where Professor Snape brewed his Wolfsbane Potion for him, as disgusting and vile as the smoking potion that burned his throat going down, it was the only thing that helped to stave off the worser parts of his lycanthropy.
He thought it strange how the dungeons could look so formidable, even with the added light from all of the lit torches in their sconces on the walls.
Remus rose a shaking hand to one of his tired eyes and rubbed slowly over the rough surface of his scarred, cracked skin. A scattered sigh escaped his lips.
Lowering his hand, his worn hand drifted down to tug on the material of his sweater in a nervous fit of agitation, close to a mental breakdown, possibly.
Lupin couldn't manage to repress the somewhat violent shiver that clawed its way up his spine and through his heart at how Tonks had reacted towards him.
Merlin's Beard, but what was wrong with him?! Why could he not have simply waited for his new partner to broach the issue when she was more comfortable around him? Why did he have to pressure her into responding?!
He felt his heart sink, hoping that she would have opened him to him, despite how cold he had acted towards her upstairs in front of the Great Hall, that Tonks would have merely waited for Remus to sort out his wild emotions and conflicting thoughts. But he dared not go back up there and face her just yet…
Why hadn't he listened to what she had to say? Why had he run off on her like that? Because I was afraid. A coward, he answered himself rather bitterly.
The thought of leaving the beautiful young witch up there alone by herself, unable to soon forget the look of abject disappointment and hurt on her face as he had abandoned her flashed in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor's vivid memory. The recollection of her smile up until he had foolishly turned the tables on their conversation and ruined everything danced in his back of his mind.
The memory of her almost resembled that of a painting as the warm embers and soft orange and yellow glow from the fires coming from the torches in the sconces that lined the walls of the first floor near the Great Hall danced through her hair. Tonks's smile had laced over her pale, heart-shaped face with such a sweetness, he was sure no other witch on Merlin's green earth held such a smile.
Lupin paused, blinking owlishly as a sudden and sharp, shooting pain thrashed through his chest. He felt…wrong, thinking about the woman this way.
Or more so, what he was feeling was wrong. It just had to be. He knew all too well what he was. Considering the nature of his condition, there was no possible way that Remus could date a woman, much less look a witch that way.
So, why was it then, that he could not shake the smell of apples from his senses? Whatever shampoo she used in her hair smelled like autumn. Of fall.
Though, come to think of it, he hadn't exactly asked her to dinner, even if he had phrased it in such a way that it had seemed like a question. He had more or less posed the demand to her in such a way that there was no way for Tonks to refuse. Yes, that was right. He had more or less manipulated her into going.
Remus ground his teeth in agitation and resisted the urge to allow the Wolf within him to growl in frustration as he stalked down the dungeons, not sure why he had come down here in the first place, clenching and unclenching his hands as he attempted to understand Tonks's reaction towards Sirius Black. What the bloody hell had he been thinking, trying to goad her into telling him the truth?
As Lupin reached the end of the hallway, knowing he would have to take a left to get to Professor Snape's office, though that was admittedly the last place he wanted to venture towards in his current agitated state, he felt his anger slowly begin to subside as a new thought entered his mind. The man furrowed his eyebrows and contemplation and shot out a hand onto the cold cobblestone wall, clutching at it for support as he froze, rooted to his spot, and stopped to think.
He had never suffered from such problems before. Partly because no woman, with the self-inflicted scars that littered his face, also thanks to the monster that he knew himself to be, would ever want to look upon his find and find it attractive. Remus had always been aware of his position in society as a werewolf, aware of his rank, aware of those who looked him with disdain and scorn, once they found out the truth of what he really was, what lurked beneath the surface.
No matter how much he regretted the cold way he had spoken to her upstairs when she had refused to let him in on what was bothering her, he could never reverse what he had allowed to happen. Part of him was strangely grateful that she had, just now, looked upon him with scorn for his uncharacteristically cold and hurt words, as though he were the very devil himself, no worse than a Dementor. In truth, Tonks was wrong to think of him in those terms, but Remus had been simply too stunned to react rationally regarding her behavior about him.
Sirius. Lupin froze, just thinking his old best friend's name caused a quiet vibration to plaster under his skin and made it crawl as a shiver went down his spine that he knew had nothing to do with the almost frigid temperatures of the Hogwarts dungeons. He gave his head a curt shake to clear it, and this time, he really did let out a growl of frustration as he carded a hand through his hair.
Tonks's serene pale gray orbs drenched his memory, and Merlin damn Lupin for having a good one. He never would have imagined a woman could invoke these foreign feelings that created a tingling, spiraling warmth in his chest, and yet, here he stood in the dungeons, not sure what he was doing down here at all.
Broken, scarred, beaten down more times than he cared to admit, but still very much feeling. Of course, these feelings were new, but they still held a familiar yet foreign sense to them, like a distant fond memory he wished to keep.
However, something within Remus still fought against these feelings. These feelings were light and breathless and underneath it all, there was something dark stirring within him, that 'wrong' feeling.
Not only did Lupin feel 'wrong' for thinking such inappropriate thoughts of the young woman that was his partner, but a snakelike voice that sounded entirely too much like Professor Snape sat in the backmost corner, the darkest parts of his mind, taunting him, whispering it.
You must be out of your mind if you think that witch saw past your unfortunate appearance? It laughed at him. You are still soooo pathetic. You've not learned your lesson at all. You're a beast, a hideous creature. What woman could love a wretch such as you? Do you even care about her or is it just lust?
His hold on his wand clutched tightly in his hand was almost forgotten as his grip slackened, his eyes left unblinking as his breaths hitched in his throat.
A heavy hand found its way back to his face as in a fit of agitation he pinched at the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, squeezing his eyes tightly shut trying to drown out the snakelike voice in his head that sounded like him.
"No!" Lupin heard his cracking hair erupted from his chest, throat, and lips as though it would be the only silencer to the wicked voices inside of his mind.
His shallow breathing worsened as the moments down in these dank, cold dungeons passed. "Y—you're wrong, I—I'm…hap…" But his voice trailed off as it broke and he curled his hands into fists, striking out at the wall behind him.
That was his first mistake. It hurt as hell and Remus ground his teeth together so hard that he felt his molars lock and snap, as he squeezed his eyes shut, a stray tear of pain escaping down his lids in the process, cradling his sore hand.
More than anything, he wanted another human being to be kind to him for once in his life, but they were scarce, considering how most, when they learned of his condition, were barely able to stomach being in the same room with him, much less look him in the eyes and hold a conversation longer than five minutes.
Such a concept was a rarity now that James and Lily were dead, and Sirius…
"No," he growled through gritted teeth, shoving aside thoughts of Black for now, not wanting to think of old Padfoot, though the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood upright as visions of Sirius Black's handsome face flitted through his mind, followed by the faces of sweet Lily, Merlin bless her soul, James, Peter…
Oh, Peter! His eyes flung wide open as he thought of that strange rat the Weasley boy was carrying on the Hogwarts Express, how similar the two looked.
A cold chill wafted down his spine as his mind lingered on how the fact the rat was missing a toe… He froze, brown eyes wide and round with utter shock.
Remus furrowed his brows in a frown, giving his head a violent shake to clear it. The poor man was practically hysterical at this point. His lungs burned as the biting air thrashed in and out of him at a speed he couldn't slow down at all.
The pounding and thundering of that damned corded muscle within his chest rattled against its cage of bone and cartilage, pumping blood to his veins faster than Remus could keep up with, rendering him feeling rather lightheaded.
He felt certain slick tears would slip from his lids at any moment if he couldn't regain control of his emotions as he tried in vain to fight them back. His head remained buried in his hands. His lungs had calmed slightly, the burning feeling subsiding, though Remus tried in vain to tamper down the memory of the first morning he had met James and Sirius and Peter during their second year of Hogwarts as second years, when they were all only twelve years old…
Remus rested his back against the stone ledge of the Astronomy Tower's parapet as best as he could and shrank into his sweater for warmth as much as possible, crying into his knees, trying not to look at the scratches and bite marks on his hands, that not even his gloves could cover up all the way, despite trying.
It was something the twelve-year-old boy did often after a nasty transformation, lamenting about how bloody stupid and monstrous he really was. All it took was one look into a mirror at his monstrous reflection, at the scars on his face that had disfigured him and marred what should have otherwise been a normal, and he had hoped when he grew up, a handsome face, but it wasn't so.
This only added to the boy's sadness. After a particularly rough night during the first full moon cycle of a transformation each month, the Astronomy Tower's terrace balcony was where he would come and sit and cry in solitary quiet, surrounded by nothing but stone, where no one would hear his little whimpers.
"It's my fault," the twelve-year-old whispered hoarsely to himself, surprised at how meek his voice sounded, though considering he'd had no water since the night before, he supposed he shouldn't be surprised, staring at the ground through tear-filled eyes as hot tears marred and stung, blurring the edges of his wolfish sight. "I'm just a stupid monster. I—I can't do anything right. Nobody likes you because you're a nasty, nasty animal!"
Remus slammed his gloved fist on the wall behind him from where he sat slumped to the floor outside on the balcony, which hurt and made him cry even harder, cradling his sore hand and grinding his teeth.
More than anything, he wanted the other kids to be kind to him, just for once, but that was scarce, considering his parents never really let him play with the other kids growing up following his attack the night the bad wolf snuck in through his bedroom window and attacked him during his sleep. Greyback.
The boy shuddered and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, not wanting to think of the werewolf who had ruined his life, and his parents', still cradling his sore hand, thinking how everyone except for the professors here treated him with disdain.
The only people who seemed to have a kind word for him was Professor Dumbledore, who had visited him in his home shortly before his eleventh birthday and sat on the floor of his parents' living room in front of the fireplace and played Gobstones with him while convincing him he could go to Hogwarts.
He smiled, the corners of his mouth twitching upward at the memory of the night Professor Dumbledore arrived unannounced and uninvited on his doorstep.
How angry Mum and Dad had been at the man's arrival and tried to block the old wizard's entrance into their simple cottage in Wales, but the Headmaster merely sidestepped his parents and had spent the evening on the living room floor with him in front of the roaring fire in the hearth, playing countless rounds of Gobstones with the melancholic and lonesome soon-to-be eleven-year-old and eating a seemingly endless plate of crumpets that kept refilling itself.
He sighed. The other adult here in the school that he liked, as stern as his Head of House was, was Professor McGonagall. She was always waiting for him at the entrance to the Shrieking Shack with his favorite red and garnet Gryffindor scarf, a jacket, and a steaming mug of hot cocoa the morning after his transformations.
Between her and Dumbledore, the boy was a devout believer in Merlin and since his mother Hope was a Muggle, God too, and turned to both entities with his daily prayer, whispered under his breath every morning since the term started.
"God, Merlin, whichever one of you is listening. Grandpa," he whispered, hoping his grandfather on his mother's side was listening and looking out for him, wiping the blood off his hand with the sleeve of his brown tattered jacket and drying his eyes, "can you please send me a friend? Maybe more I—if you want, b—but I'd be content with only one, I—I promise. Please?" he begged sadly.
The second year Gryffindor student and little werewolf looked up at the spires and parapets above him, watching, waiting with bated breath and hopeful, huge light brown eyes flecked with gold at the edges of his irises, as they always were after a transformation, as though expecting a brand new friend to fall from the sky, but none did.
Grinding his teeth, letting a slightly wolfish growl escape from his lips, Remus kicked at a stray stone off the ledge and watched the little pebble tumble down, down, and down, until he could no longer see the rock at all, his scarred, peaky face full of immense hurt, anger, disappointment, and sadness.
"Who am I kidding? No one wants to be friends with a werewolf," his hissed the last word as though it were a hushed, dirty secret, and considering Remus had told none of the other kids in his House about his condition, his secret was.
He shakily rose to his feet and walked along the edge of the balcony terrace, the wind whipping his thick tuft of short light brown hair back off his forehead as he stared over the edge at the Hogwarts Grounds below, at the other children.
Madame Hooch was teaching Flying Class below to a group of Slytherins, and Remus secretly hoped that the greasy-haired slimeball git, Severus Snape, who he had to sit next to during Potions and Herbology, fell off his broomstick.
His wolfish sight was still heightened, and as he narrowed his eyes and scanned the ground and sky for any signs of Snape falling off his broom (none that he could see) he gripped onto the railing of the balcony's ledge and leaned forward a little farther, forgetting that his equilibrium post-transformation always threw him off the balance if he weren't more bloody careful, and felt a tremor of fear as his feet left the ground.
The scream that escaped his lips made the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand up as Remus felt himself go over the edge, his head about to nosedive right off the top of the Astronomy Tower if he couldn't save himself.
This was bloody it! Not even two years into his life as a Hogwarts student, and this, of all things, was how he died?! Falling to his death off the tower ledge? Remus tried in vain to grab onto the ledge with his gloved hands, but they slipped, and he cursed himself for having his gloves with the fingers cut off.
What good were these types of gloves if you couldn't use your hands?! There was nothing he could do, no one to come and save him. To the best of his knowledge, nobody, not even one of the teachers, knew he came up here.
Suddenly, he felt something rough latch itself around one of his legs, stopping his plummeting descent off the Astronomy Tower's ledge. Remus squeezed his eyes tightly shut, letting out a wolfish little whimper that escaped from the confines of his chest, throat, and lips, too scared to look at the Hogwarts Grounds several hundred feet below him, and wondering who had stopped his fall and was effectively keeping him upright from falling to a very grisly death.
"Pull him up!" a hoarse sounding voice croaked in an authoritative voice, almost a bark like noise. "C'mon, Potter, put your back into it! You too, Peter!"
"We're trying, don't get your hair all twisted in a knot, Black!" another voice said, this one male too and even younger sounding, sounding disgruntled.
Remus thought he recognized one of the voices, but he was too busy bloody trying not to die to even care that he had no time to question the strange 'hair' comment when the voice spoke again. "Peter, James, on three, and we got this?"
"Agreed," another voice offered in a calm tone despite the precariousness of Remus's current predicament. "One, two, three!" On that, the young Gryffindor felt himself get pulled back up over the ledge of the Astronomy Tower's ledge.
The three boys who had just effectively saved Remus John Lupin's life were grunting and panting with the exertion of pulling the young werewolf up over the ledge as the young boy fell back onto the platform, trembling with fear, violently convulsing.
"Stand back, for Merlin's sake!" the tallest boy commanded, staring down the tip of his slender nose and peering through the lenses of his black-framed glasses at Remus's cowering, hunched form as the boy heaved and coughed, trying to catch his breath and calm his racing heart from his near fall.
Lupin gasped for breath, a gloved hand over his racing heart, starting to calm down a little bit, but then realized the three students who had saved his life could see him, see his face, his scars, and he felt another thrill of fear, only this time, intermingled with a sense of hot shame and embarrassment that painted his cheeks pink that he knew had nothing to do with the frigid cold air of this afternoon.
"Don't look at me!" Remus bellowed, immediately covering his face with his hands, ashamed of the three, jagged scars that disfigured his visage.
"Why not?" the young male voice asked from earlier. "You look fine!" This was the one that sort of sounded like a dog, his voice rough and coarse, grating, almost, like the sound of a wooden barrel being scraped along an old stone street.
"Because I'm a—a monster!" Remus stammered, not wanting to look his three saviors in the eyes. "I'm grateful to you lot for saving me, I really am, b-but you have to get out of here! Honest! I—I'm n—not safe to be around, see."
"Why? Cause you're a werewolf?" the same male voice asked, not sounding offended or disgusted, but rather, plagued with an insatiable sense of curiosity.
That did it. Remus lowered his head from his hands and felt his head whiplash sharply upwards as he narrowed his eyes and glowered at the boys.
He recognized two of them. James Potter, and his best mate, Sirius Black, the other shorter, stout, kind of on the chubby side, with dirty blonde hair and rather crooked, bucked teeth, but he seemed a kind enough chap.
Peter, I heard one of these guys call him Peter, he thought wildly, blinking owlishly at them.
"That's stupid, Lupin, no offense, but you're not a monster," Remus heard the one called James Potter speak up, sounding offended. "We've seen you before in the library, sitting by yourself because you think no one will sit with you. You're not a monster, you're just a boy! You just have a… 'furry little problem.'"
The quip earned a short but harsh, bark-like laughter from Sirius Black, who threw back his head and laughed as though it were the funniest thing he'd heard.
Lupin furrowed his brows into a frown as he looked at the three Gryffindor boys. "You should be scared of me," he growled, feeling the edges of his lips curl upwards to reveal his gums as another wolfish growl escaped his chest. "I am a monster. And an ugly one at that, and you can't convince me otherwise, guys!"
The odd noise that sounded like a cross between a snort and a muffled attempt at laughter from Sirius Black caused his wolfish hearing, still heightened considering it only the first day's end of the full moon's cycle, perked up, and Remus swore he felt his ears twitch, and it stopped right in front of where he lay collapsed on the terrace of the Astronomy Tower's balcony, catching his breath.
"Well? You gonna lay there or are you gonna sit up and look at us?" James Potter's voice cut through the snickering of Sirius Black and Peter talking among themselves about characteristics of werewolves, making Remus nervous.
"Look at us," came Sirius Black's voice, lower and kinder than Remus had heard a few moments ago. "We aren't gonna hurt you, Lupin. We want to be your friend. We saw you weren't at dinner. Don't worry about your…secret. It's safe with us, I swear it. We've known for a few weeks, Remus. Don't be afraid."
The boy breathed in a sharp breath of cool autumnal air that pained his lungs sharply; that was eerily similar to something that his dad used to read to him growing up, and one of his personal favorites as well, not to be afraid of anything.
Slowly, he brought his gloved hands away from his eyes and sat up straighter, gasping slightly at what he saw. James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew, all fellow Gryffindors, just like him, the grotesque little twelve-year-old boy was shocked to see the trio of boys were all kneeling into a crouch in front of him.
Inches away from his face, the boys did not seem put off by the horrible condition of the scars on his face that would cause even the most stoic of people to retch their lunch if they saw him in the hallways. It happened once or twice.
But that did not seem to be the case with these three. All three boys his age was staring at Remus, their hands outstretched, waiting to help him up, with compassionate looks on their faces. His mind was working overtime as Remus's hand outstretched towards Sirius's waiting hand of its own accord, his arm no longer taking direction from his mind not to trust these boys.
What if they spit on him? Conjured a leash and collar and made fun of him for what he was? Paraded him around the hallways like some kind of…of pet?!
Remus lowered his hand, jerking his arm out of Black's the moment he stood upright and shot the pair of boys a slightly distrusting and admonishing glare. "Why d'you want to talk to me now? Don't you know how long I've waited for friends like you guys? Why wait two whole months to approach me?"
"We know," Sirius interrupted hotly, jabbing James in the ribcage with his elbow before Potter could speak up, no doubt a smart aleck remark on the tip of his tongue as Sirius shot James Potter a withering glower and frowned a little bit. "And we wanted to, but with you, it wasn't that simple, Remus. We needed some time to think about it. We don't just let anybody in our group, you know."
There was a smug note of pride in Sirius Black's voice as he puffed out his chest slightly and looked towards James, seemingly the leader, for confirmation.
"Yeah," James murmured sheepishly, reaching up a hand to scratch at an itch on top of his head, a rather embarrassed grin on his face. "But you seem nice, Remus. A little quiet. Shy, maybe, but that's okay," he chirped jovially, and almost as soon as his fleeting smile flitted across his features, it vanished, sliding off his face like Stinksap as a light pink blush speckled along his cheeks in embarrassment.
"Sorry for almost killing you," Peter piped up, his first words to Remus, "we should've been more subtle with our approach, I guess, right, James? Sirius?"
Sirius's mouth curved upwards into a truly twisted sneer that sent a shiver down Remus's spine as he followed the trio of boys back into the Astronomy Tower.
"Oy, I suggested we hide under his bed," the most handsome of the three piped up with a truly wicked grin on his face as he toyed with a lock of his hair.
"And scare the kid to death? Are you nuts, Black? You must be crazy!" Peter huffed indignantly, casting nervous, skittish glances towards Remus and James.
"Who you calling crazy?" Black let out a low animalistic growl and tackled the shorter boy, the two of them becoming a tumble of fists, much to Lupin's astonishment, who gaped at the scene before them, wondering if he should intervene and try to break up the brawl, but James moved to stand next to him.
James Potter shook his head in disgust and turned away, letting out a snort through his nose and rolling his eyes, clamping Remus on the back. "Ignore them, Moony," he told the boy. "They're still imbeciles. They got a lot of growing up to do. But I'm James, by the way, in case you didn't already know," he added, almost as an afterthought, holding out a hand for Remus to shake it.
"And I'm Sirius," the taller, more handsome boy said, de-tangling himself from the scuffle and inclining his head as a sign of respect towards Remus in silence.
"Shove off, drama queen!" the fatter, shorter, stoutest boy, Peter Pettigrew snapped, pushing Sirius over and shaking Remus's hand a little too excitedly. "We've never met a werewolf before! I—I'm Peter," he breathed animatedly.
"Wh—what did you call me?" Remus breathed, feeling his light brown eyes widen in shock as his face drained of colors as he looked towards James Potter.
Potter merely shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant grin and offered Lupin a kind smile.
"Moony," he repeated again, a light little chuckle escaping his lips as he took in the sight of Remus's dumbfounded expression. "I like the nickname. It suits you, and no one will ever know what we're talking about. It's like a code."
"N—nice to meet you," Remus said quietly, smiling a little bit as he allowed his three new friends to lead him down the stairwell that led away from the Astronomy Tower and towards the Hogwarts Grounds, to the Quidditch pitch. "So…what do you want to do?" Lupin asked, looking around at the landscape.
"Anything!" James said excitedly, gesturing towards the empty Quidditch pitch. "We could practice flying if you want. The way I see it, the world's our oyster!"
Remus couldn't help but grin along with his three new friends as they set off towards the Quidditch pitch to sneak in practice before tomorrow's Flying lesson, glad that someone up there had finally answered his pleas for a friend.
Whoever was up there looking up for him, whether it was Merlin or God or his grandfather, had done him one better and sent him not one friend that day, but three.
And he wouldn't have had it any other way.
A/N: A bit of light-hearted fluff to break up all the Remadora Drama, which I feel like I need one of those family tree diorama things just to keep all track of this mess LOL. Remus is upset with Tonks for not disclosing the fact that Sirius Black is her cousin, which he already knows, and Tonks is mad at Remus for not being honest with her about his lycanthropy, and it's two days into their partnership.
Eek. Our favorite werewolf and Auror have a long way to go before getting to that point of the relationship where they start to trust one another, then. Coming up in Chapter 8, the next chapter, Tonks encounters a surprise someone watching and takes a little forbidden dip in the infamous Black Lake :D