Author's note: more period accurate homophobia/internalized homophobia; also sick in this chapter and vague gore (in a nightmare).
That being said, happy holidays everyone!
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Dear Remus
I apologize for taking a little longer to get back to you than I should, but your letter took me by surprise. First of all, I am glad to know you got through the four nights well enough. I know how tiring those can be. Second of all… that term. I will be frank with you. The term is a very rude term for a homosexual man, used in a derogatory manner. Typically used towards one who is very effeminate. You said it had to do with what you wore to the Quidditch game? Some people seem to think certain colors or styles indicate that, which is ridiculous and wrong. Don't think anything of it. It is only a bully being a bully. I am not for violence, however I am a little glad Sirius walloped him. Please don't let this get to you. I know you anxiety can consume you, and it is nothing to get anxious over. It is only someone trying to use rude and offensive terms to hurt you, that is all. Not even you! He couldn't even say it to your face! He had to say it to your friends. That is evidence that he is a coward.
I hope you're recovering well.
M. Fawley
Remus slowly lowered the letter down, staring blankly at his bed curtains. Then he lifted the parchment back up to reread the words that seemed to be glowing.
A homosexual man.
What?
What?
He gripped the paper tightly, hands shaking. It was so close to his deep-down fears that it brought them rapidly to the surface. He swallowed, trying to fight off the urge to—to what? Run off? Go under his bed? Run into the bathroom and be sick? All of it, somehow, at once?
How did—why would Spinnet say that? What did his clothes have to do with anything? Fawley said they didn't, but it sounded like Spinnet had been using the clothes as an excuse to use the term. That seemed to be the root of it, or so he assumed. His clothes. Sparkly belt and shoelaces. Why did that mean anything? Dumbledore wore sparkly, glittery things all the time! A—a purple cloak with gold trim. He had a very glittery hat he wore the first time Remus ever met him. He had deep blue robes that had glittery, sparkly stars all over, enchanted to match whatever the constellations were in the current night sky.
Homosexual man.
He tried to reread her words about the clothes, how it was ridiculous, but he couldn't see. Couldn't focus. Thank Merlin he decided to wait until he was alone to look at the letter. If he had opened it that morning he would have—in the Great Hall, too! In front of everyone! Then dealing with thinking about it all day Friday. Now it was late afternoon, and all he had left was supper and Study Group… if he went to Study Group. He planned on it, but with this inside his head… worming into his brain…
Homosexual man.
Pain began stabbing somewhere deep within his skull, and the nausea grew worse until he couldn't take it anymore. He crumpled the letter up and shoved it under his pillow before bolting to the bathroom, ignoring the stares from his friends.
Homosexual man.
He collapsed on his knees in front of the toilet and was sick. Very sick. His sides heaved and when he was done his throat burned. There was a bit of blood in the sick from his throat being torn up. Tears prickled out of his eyes as he slumped back, pressing his hands against his mouth.
Homosexual man.
He heard someone coming in, and knew by the footsteps it was Peter. Great. He wiped his eyes and mouth off on his sleeve before flushing the toilet.
"Remus?"
"I—I'm all right," he lied, trying not to sound like he had swallowed glass. Trying not to sound like someone had torn his entire soul into pieces and scattered them to the wind. Homosexual man. It was close to—no, not close, nothing close. It wasn't close. It was nothing. It meant nothing.
"Are you sure? Did you empty the cauldron again?"
Again. Of course again, he was always throwing up. "Yeah. It's all right though, I promise."
"Do you need, um, a cloth?"
"No, I'm fine, thank you. I'll be back in the dorm in a minute."
"Ooookay," he drew out. "If you need anything…"
"Yes, thank you." Remus watched under the door as Peter's feet hesitantly walked to the door, then left. When the door shut, Remus got up.
I just wanted to show effort and pride in being a Gryffindor, he thought as he staggered to the sink to wash his face off. Glitter didn't mean anything! It couldn't! That was stupid! And even if—even if it did, it didn't for Remus who had no idea. If he had any idea it could mean something like—like that, he wouldn't have done it because he wasn't like that at all. He liked girls. He wasn't—
A homosexual man.
Remus rinsed his mouth out, wishing he could rinse his whole being out. Wishing he could go back in time and stop himself from wearing something—
What? Something what? He spat out in the sink then lifted his chin, staring at his pale reflection. Fawley said it meant nothing. Dumbledore himself wears things like that. It doesn't mean anything. It's only Spinnet being dumb.
But why? Why, of all insults, had Spinnet decided on that? How had he known the dark, ugly, disgusting fears that had taken hold in the abyss of Remus's mind? How did he know it would hurt? Was it a guess? Why that and not loopy, lunatic, or crazy? Those weren't great but Remus knew he had at least done things to earn those insults by being so strange. Being called a—(homosexual man)—poof was so out of the blue. Right? It was… right?
Also, why had Sirius punched him for it? Simply defending Remus? Or was there more to it? Was the thought of Remus being—like that—so terrible that Sirius's first instinct was to punch Spinnet for accusing him?
Not that I'm like that, he thought quickly, grabbing a towel to dry his face off. He liked girls. Would like girls. Perhaps it was time to try again? Not kissing Lily. They were too much of friends for it to ever mean anything, that was obvious. Except kissing any girl still felt squidgy and gross. Not that he had to kiss. He could…
Could what? Flirt? Flirt like Sirius did with Inkwood? He didn't want to! He certainly didn't want to date. He was too young for that. Wasn't he? Was thirteen too young? No one else in his year was dating, as far as he knew. Sirius and Inkwood were the closest thing and they definitely weren't a couple. Not yet, at least.
Homosexual man.
Maybe there was a different meaning for the word poof? Maybe it was some sort of slang meaning Spinnet wanted Remus to disappear?
He sighed, knowing damn well those were some pretty thin straws he was trying to cling to there.
Ugh! This wasn't anything he expected from school. Insults, jabs, bullying, gossip, rumors… He should have known it would happen, though; he read plenty of books that took place in schools and in Hogwarts. Yet somehow he never thought it would involve him. Not like this or the rumors of him and Lily.
Thank Merlin nobody knows what was said! he thought suddenly, stomach twisting again.
He turned around, leaning against the sink, head in hands. Everyone knew Sirius had punched Spinnet, that they got into a fight. Nobody knew what was said except for the five boys who were in that room, and then Remus. And now Fawley. Hopefully Spinnet didn't say anything to anyone. Thankfully he didn't seem to be?
Then, as if Remus did some sort of accidental magic, the bathroom door opened and Spinnet stepped in. He froze, staring at Remus who stared wide-eyed back.
"L—Lupin," Spinnet said stiffly, the first thing he had said to Remus since he had come back.
"H'lo." Remus stayed where he was, eyes locked on Spinnet as the other boy walked to one of the stalls. Remus stayed where he was, reaching back to grip the sides of the sink. Should I ask him?
The toilet flushed and Spinnet came back out, hesitating when he realized Remus was still there. His cheeks went a little red and he shuffled to the farthest sink away from Remus to wash his hands.
"Spinnet…"
Spinnet didn't look up, didn't respond.
"Spinnet," Remus tried again, voice trembling. His legs felt weak, like he might collapse. "I—" What should he say?
A homosexual man.
Why?
"I know wh—wh-what you ss-s-said about—about me," he forced out.
Spinnet dried his hands off then turned the faucet off, still not looking at him. "Figured you did."
Remus took in a deep breath, straightening up a bit. "You—you called me—called me poof."
Spinnet finally looked at him, face cloudy. "Yeah, well, I wasn't thinking, all right? I was—I was mad at Black and Potter."
"So you—you insult me? Wh-when I'm n-n-n-not even there?" Remus felt the wolf growing inside of him, giving him a little bit of courage. And probably too much anger. "About my clothes?" he demanded, folding his arms.
"I'm not—"
"You know, if you—if you—if—if you think—if you think clothes mean—mean anything l-like that then—then you're a—a piteous fool. Did you c-c-call Professor Dumbledore that too?" Spinnet's face paled a little at that, and the wolf grew stronger. "No, you pick on—pick—you're—you—you pick—"
"I'm sorry!" Spinnet snarled before Remus could continue. "I made a mistake, Merlin's beard! I said something dumb. Not like none of you never said anything when you were mad before!"
"Mad ab—about my—my clothes?!"
"It was a little—" Spinnet stopped, pushing his hair away from his face. "Face it, Loopy, it was a little poofy."
Remus flinched at that. "It's c-called I do—I d-don't have many clothes, I hardly have—have anything so I enchanted a few accessories to—to show off some Gryffindor pride! To show m—my support for—for the Quidditch team. P—people go all out for the—the games! I've seen some w—wild clothing ch—choices on game days before!"
"Shut up! I said I was sorry—"
"But no, you—you—you go after—you go after the one who's not even there—"
"Just accept the damn apology!"
Remus stopped, panting heavily. Part of his screamed to stop all of this, to accept the apology, to say it was done with. He wanted things to calm down, to stop poking at Spinnet before Spinnet did something or said something worse. He should accept the apology, and move on.
Instead he said, very calmly, "I do not believe it was a very sincere apology so I think I shan't, thank you." Then whirled on his feet, walking out the door, leaving Spinnet goggling at him in disbelief.
Remus didn't go back to the dorm. Couldn't go back to the dorm. The wolf was slobbering and howling inside of him, and he took off, running through the common room to the nearest secret passage. He hid inside, falling to the ground where he clutched his hair, curled into a ball, and fought the furious wolf back. Everything hurt. His vision was wonky, slowly blackening around the edges. He gave a shout and stretched out, pressing his body down against the stone—
And then that snap.
When he sat up there was quite a bit of blood pooling across his lips.
I messed up big time. He wiped the blood off miserably. Oh boy did I make things worse. Spinnet was going to be furious. What he started saying—spreading rumors? What if he said that word to other people, get it in their head? What if he—
You can't do anything about it now, unless you apologize.
He drew his knees up to his chest, leaning back against the wall. He didn't want to apologize. Didn't think Spinnet deserved one, unless he made a proper apology and not an angry, demanding one.
Except he also didn't want there to be trouble.
He also didn't want Spinnet to think that that particular insult got to him. Not that it did. Not that it meant anything. But it was something he needed to try to… obviously shake off. It was a dumb insult, that meant nothing other than showing that Spinnet was a jerk.
It was well into suppertime before he left the secret passageway. His uniform was all right except the sleeve of his jumper was stained red. He snuck up to his dorms to put a clean one on before going to the Great Hall, joining his friends there. They were all worried about him since they knew he had been sick, however none of them seemed to guess that Remus and Spinnet had a confrontation.
Spinnet was down the table, angrily stabbing his food with a fork while David talked.
If I tell them what happened, they'll get mad. Remus put food on his plate, deciding to deal with it on his own. Eventually he'd try talking to Spinnet again. Perhaps not that night, but maybe Saturday. After the dragon painting thing, of course. Ooh! A shiver of excitement went down his spine. He wished Aegis could come with them. That'd be fun.
/\/\/\/\/\
Remus wasn't in much mood to go to Study Group and he spent the evening with Sirius and Peter, and then James when he returned from detention. The four stayed up very late, playing cards and board games until they were the last ones left in the room. James suggested they take the cloak and go to the Pits Passage right that minute, but Remus shot the idea down, saying he didn't want to be too tired.
"You think there's something back there?" Peter asked.
"Yeah, you're acting as if you know already," said James.
Remus looked at his cards, thinking of the dark entrance. "There might not be. I know there probably won't be. But if there is, I want to be wide awake."
"Ehh, we probably won't get past the painting right away," Sirius said, slapping some cards down and exchanging them for new ones. "I have the feeling it'll take a while."
Remus pressed his lips thin, remaining silent.
They stayed up till nearly four in the morning before crawling into their beds. It didn't long for Remus to fall asleep...
He was in the Pits Passage, only there were bridges across the pits for him to walk over. The passageway was dark even with his wand lit. There were voices echoing out of the pits, whispering that Remus Didn't Like Girls. He reached the dragon painting, reminding it of their agreement. The dragon opened his mouth but instead of fire, it was Spinnet's voice calling him a homosexual man, and a poof. Fire began raining down while Remus covered his head, trying to protect himself. Bits of fire sizzled on his skin, sinking in through the muscle all the way to the bone. Spinnet's voice grew louder—
Remus woke up with a loud cry of, "STOP!" He jerked forward, arms covering his head. "I'm not! I'm—"
There weren't any drops of fire burning into him, and certainly no Spinnet's voice. There was Sirius's voice on the other side of the curtain, asking if he was all right.
"Yes," he whimpered.
Sirius flicked the curtain back and climbed into his bed. "You don't sound okay. Blimey, Remy, you're soaked."
That's when Remus realized his pajamas were sticking to his body from sweat, and his hair was clinging to the back of his neck. He reached up, running his fingers through his hair to let some cool air flow across his neck. That helped. Then he lowered his arms, sliding his right hand into his left sleeve.
"You're not scratching again, are you?" Sirius asked, hand darting out to seize Remus's wrist.
"No. I had a nightmare about the dragon painting," he replied honestly. "It rained fire. I can still sort of feel the burning on my arm still." He pushed his sleeves up revealing smooth white skin. "No scratches."
"I shouldn't have…" Sirius trailed off, scooting closer. "I got worried. I don't want you doing that again."
And I do? Remus didn't say that. He sighed, stretching his legs out. "It wasn't a very bad nightmare tonight. I don't need to… I should be able to get back to sleep easily."
"Hmm. Okay." They sat in silence for a moment until Sirius started talking again. "Can I ask you something? You seem strangely confident about getting past that painting. I mean, Pete suggested trying to research safety measures," Sirius said, elbowing him. "I know you're curious but it just seems odd."
Remus bit his bottom lip. "I was the first to go into that tunnel, remember?"
"Yeah, I suppose…" Sirius stretched his legs out too, his right leg almost flush against Remus's left on. His ankle and foot stuck out way past where Remus's ankle and foot were, showing how ridiculously long Sirius's stupid legs were. The close proximity was extremely discomforting, especially with his new knowledge of—(homosexual)—that word. "You're hiding something."
"I am not!" Remus protested, his voice rising into a squeak.
Sirius raised his eyebrows, smirking. "Yes you are. About the painting. You know something. I know you do."
That's what he means, I'm hiding—right, of course, that's what he means, not… not that. Remus let out a breath of relief, then leaned back against the headboard. Suddenly he remembered Fawley's letter, still crumpled under his pillow next to Gwyllgi. What if it somehow rolled out and Sirius saw it? Very stealthily (or, trying to be stealthy) he reached under the pillow, feeling for the paper.
"I am," he admitted, mostly to distract from his fumbling hand. "I know we'll get past it."
"You do?"
His fingers curled around the paper and he drew it close. "I went back." He gave Sirius a grin. "I threatened the dragon."
Sirius let out a surprised scoffing sound, then covered his mouth. "You what?!"
"I threatened the dragon. With—with paint thinner," he said, sliding into lies now, since he didn't want to admit his strength. "I also told it I was a you-know-what and the fire wouldn't do much harm." He quickly pushed the parchment past the waistband of his trousers. There. Hidden! "Don't tell the others."
"Hah! I knew you were hiding something about it," Sirius whispered victoriously, punching Remus's arm. "Right, I won't. Ooh, we'll get past it then. That's exciting. No wonder you're eager!"
Remus smiled. "Yes…" He then gave a big yawn. "Maybe we should go to sleep, it is… what, five in the morning?"
"Yeah, I'm tired too." Sirius maneuvered himself off of Remus's bed. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
The curtains swung close, and Remus reached into his trousers to pull the paper out. Quickly he shredded it into little bits which he shoved into his mouth. He chewed at them until they were soggy, mushy, incomprehensible messes, then he threw them in the rubbish bin.
I'm not, he thought, curling back up. I'm not.
/\/\/\/\/\
Five hours later, the Marauders were headed down the passage where the dragon painting waited for them. Peter was very nervous, while James was practically hopping from foot to foot. Sirius kept giving Remus swift, smug glances which Remus pretended not to see.
"Hello again!" James said brightly, standing right in front of the dragon like a moron. "Remember me? The guy you tried to fry up?"
The dragon lifted its head, glaring. Remus positioned himself behind James in order to glare right back.
"Right, any ideas what the password might be?" James asked.
"It might be something to do with Francia," Remus suggested.
"France?"
"No, Francia. It was a country that—it covered a lot of places, centuries ago," Remus explained. "I found out about this dragon. It's a Frankish Short-Snout, related to the Swedish Short-Snout. It died out in the second century."
James blinked a few times. "Huh."
"So, you think the password might be Francia?" Peter asked from where he stood as far from the painting as he could while still being in the hallway.
"Francia!" James said then grabbed Remus, yanking him down to the floor. Peter shrieked and dove to the floor, crying out in pain when his knee banged against the stone. Only Sirius didn't end up on the floor. He stayed where he was, casually leaning against the wall.
The dragon made a huffy sound, glaring at Remus the entire time the entrance formed. James gasped loudly, right in Remus's ear.
"It worked. It worked! Remy, you—you absolute genius!"
"He's an absolute something all right," Sirius said, winking at Remus.
Remus coughed, getting back to his feet. "Um, yeah." He brushed himself off before turning to Peter, helping him up. "Are you injured?"
"Only a little bruised, I think," Pete said, rubbing his knee. "Yeah, it's okay. Holy hippogriffs it worked though, look!"
There was a dark entrance, leading to who-knows-what. All four of them stood there, staring into the blackness until James whipped his wand out, lighting it up. It penetrated some of the darkness, revealing what seemed to be a passageway.
"Onwards, my good fellows!" James said in a deep voice before plunging forward.
Sirius followed behind him, with Remus and Peter walking together. Peter grabbed hold of Remus's arm, muttering about the possibility of more pits. Then he shouted ahead, telling James to maybe not run? James just laughed in return, not caring.
As it turned out, he didn't need to worry about pits. The passageway opened up, becoming extremely wide—or so they thought. A second later the light from James's wand revealed a chair.
"Lumos!"
All three of the others lit up their wands and began looking around. It wasn't a passageway, it was a room! There were chairs, a table, bookshelves, pictures stuck up on the wall, and a large blackboard. The room smelled a little musty, but Remus could tell there was ventilation.
"Hey, there are candles," Peter said.
They wandered around the room to light up the candles, and soon the entire room was well-lit enough that they didn't need their wands.
"Reeeemus," James sang. "We need your brain."
Remus had started going for one of the bookshelves, and got a little annoyed that he had to turn around. "What is it?"
"What's 'Wall-purge-is'?"
"What?" Remus looked at where James was pointing. Scrawled in lovely handwriting across the blackboard was Knights of Walpurgis. "Walpurgis Night? That's—that's another powerful night for witches and wizards," Remus said, going towards the blackboard. "It's at the end of April. It's a night where—it's very magical, like Halloween. Strong magic sort of thing."
James flapped his hand in annoyance. "What's that got to do with this?"
"I've no idea," Remus answered with a shrug. "Though it does make the painting make a bit of sense, as Saint Walpurga was well known for being in Francia, and that is who Walpurgis Night is named after. So whoever made this… group… I am assuming also put the painting up." He studied the blackboard. "The Knights of Walpurgis… I've never heard of that before. Perhaps it was a group who intended to do powerful magic on Walpurgis Night?"
"End of April?" Sirius asked, turning around. "Maybe we should come back here that night. See if something happens."
"Oh, I don't like that," Peter whined. "It sounds creepy."
"First of all, whoever these Knights are… they're long gone." Remus ran a finger across the table, holding up a dusty finger. "It's been ages. I doubt anything would happen. Second of all—"
"Let me guess, don't want to sneak out at night?" James teased. "Come here at midnight, see if something happens?"
Remus looked down his nose at James, a difficult feat to do when James was a few inches taller than him. "I wouldn't be opposed to it, however I highly doubt anything would happen. Most likely it was a group of students getting together like—like a gang. Like us. The Marauders."
"Ye Olde Marauders?" Sirius laughed.
"Perhaps not too Olde," Remus said, smiling. "Chalkboards only go back so far. Besides, none of us would set up a painting to shoot real fire."
James and Sirius stared blankly at him.
"Right?" he demanded.
"Oh, yeah, of course," they both agreed, quickly turning away.
Rolling his eyes, Remus turned his attention to the table. There was an empty vase, an empty water pitcher, and a teapot. Remus picked the teapot up, turning it over. No dates were stamped on it. Sighing, he set it back down and moved on to some papers at the end of the table.
"YAAAAAH!" Peter screamed, scrambling over and jumping into James's arms. "SOMETHING MOVED!"
"Probably just a rat, flobberhead!" James said, staggering around a bit.
"Past the pits?" Sirius asked dubiously.
"There's probably cracks in the wall or something," James said, setting Pete down. Pete trembled, clutching James's sleeve.
Sirius gave Peter a big poke in the shoulder. "I thought you liked rats, Petey!"
"I do but I don't think it was a rat!" he moaned. "It didn't move like one. It—it slithered! Like a—a snake or something!"
"Right, a snake deep inside the castle in a hidden room," James said, shaking his head. "It's probably a shadow, from the candles."
Peter stared at the corner, not protesting anymore but obviously shaken up. Remus went over to inspect the area, sniffing the air a bit. He didn't smell any rats or mice. Or snakes, for that matter. It probably was just a shadow. He said this, and Peter crinkled his nose up.
"I saw something," he muttered, but didn't press the issue.
Remus continued exploring the room. The bookshelves were mostly empty, although there were a few books there. He gathered them all up, stacking them on the table to carefully sort through them. The first thing he did was check the publication dates.
"The absolute earliest these 'Knights' can be is… 1938," Remus said.
"What makes you say that?" James asked, only partially interested.
"The most recent book here was published in 1938," Remus explained, holding the book up. It was a book on ancient Celtic sources of power. "Ergo, that's the absolute earliest they could have been. Unless someone else came in here and added these books later… never mind," he sighed. James and Sirius were already bored, and pretending to sword fight with candelabras they found. Peter, though, raised his hand. "Er… this—this isn't a c-classroom," Remus said.
"It looks like one," Peter said. "What's 'ergo' mean?"
"Therefore."
"Oh. Okay, thanks."
Remus slipped into a chair, carefully going through the books. He wasn't reading them, mostly looking for any hints or indications what the Knights were. Most of the books seemed to be about power, though two of them were about dark magic which sent an uncomfortable shiver through his body. One of the books was a very thorough biography of Salazar Slytherin which made Remus think about the Chamber again.
"Are we done yet?" Sirius asked after James knocked his candelabra aside.
"Um, yeah, sure, I—I can take these with me," Remus said, restacking them carefully. "I doubt anyone would miss them. Although I probably ought to be careful since two of them may be illegal, so—"
"Illegal?" James dropped his candelabra immediately. "Illegal books? What? Really?"
"They're on very dark magic," Remus explained, and James was at his side in an instant. "I suspect these would be in the Restricted Section of the library."
"Oooh… what are they about? Why do you say that?" James took one of them, opening it up. Sirius and Peter crowded by him, peering over his shoulders. "Oh. Sacrificial magic. That's lovely. And you—you want to take these?"
Remus shrugged. "I could leave those two behind, if it makes you uncomfortable."
"Why do you want a book on sacrificial magic?" Pete asked.
"I don't. Not really. I'm just a bit curious about the contents of the books. I had assumed this room was used as a secret meeting place for students however it seems odd. Too much for students. A guardian that could kill anyone trying to get in plus books on sacrificial magic? I don't think that students would have books like these…" He took the one from James, setting it back on the stack. "It's creepy."
"Um, this place is very creepy," Peter said. "I don't like it here. It gives me goose bumps all over."
"Yeah, it's boring here anyway," James agreed.
"Do you want to leave yet?" Sirius asked Remus.
No. There was a cupboard he hadn't checked, and a pile of seemingly blank parchment on one of the shelves, and there was so much more to explore. "Yes," he said reluctantly, putting the books in his bag. "Erm, could you carry some of these? My bag isn't big enough."
James pushed his glasses up, giving a rather wry smile. "Remy, you're the only one who carries your school satchel around on the weekend. Sorry, mate."
Remus made a face. None of them had their robes on either, which would have had enough room in the pockets. He'd have to make room in his satchel. "Right. Hold on." He wriggled the books until he managed to shove all of them in, his bag practically bursting at the seams. One of the books was smaller so he was able to put that in a pocket.
They left the room, and Remus decided he'd come back by himself sometime to check out every little cranny later. James flew them across the pits then they headed to the dorms so Remus could dump his stolen—er, borrowed books in his trunk. Underneath some things to keep them further hidden. He was ninety-nine percent sure nobody would miss them, was quite sure nobody had been in that room for a couple decades at least. Possibly three. Hopefully it would be all right and he wouldn't be in trouble.
Or get in trouble for having a book on literal blood magic.
