Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Warning: Male/Male Slash. Severus/Remus. Very strong language and moderate sex.

From Lupin's point of view.

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Chapter Two: Humiliation

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He called me a queer.

In front of everybody.

I want to die.

If the heavens had mercy they would lend a time turner and allow me to erase the past. I should have known not to tell Sirius! He must hate queers with the number of girlfriends he's had! Merlin, this evening has been a disaster. It happened at dinner. He just announced it to everyone as if it was some fantastic joke. Now the whole of Gryffindor knows.

As I lie here, tucked beneath my duvet, I whither humiliated. I can't believe I cried in front of my friends. All I can remember is running against a clutter of sounds: plates clinking, snickering boys and my feet bounding down carpet. All I could see was Black laughing and his gleaming eyes alive with glee. He thinks it's hilarious to see me embarrassed. I hate it, I feel like a pest rolling under a magnifying glass.

How could he do this to me?

It's my fault I suppose.

I shouldn't have dared tell him. I knew he'd react wrongly - take it as some sort of trivial tale while not truly listening.

I don't know what I'd do if one of them followed me in here. I'd feel so weak.

Oh no, I can hear footsteps by the door. That's probably James or Peter wondering where I've got to. Please. I just want to hide. Even the candle beside me seems to understand my humiliation. I blow it out, put it out of its misery and wipe away my tears.

Please don't be Black.

Please don't be Black.

Shit.

'Hey Moony. Why did you run away?'

I pretended to be asleep. If he didn't know I was conscious, I wouldn't have to talk.

'You aren't mad at me are you..?'

I let out a small snore and swivelled onto my left arm making no indication that I had heard him. I'm asleep. I'm asleep. I'm asleep.

'Moony. I can tell when you're trying to avoid me.'

I stirred, and curled under the sheets of my thick cover. I loved my bed more than anything; it was safe and warm and never betrayed me.

'Later Pads.' I moaned, 'I'm trying to sleep.'

'I don't know what you're getting so worked up about! It was only a joke!'

I could feel the anger crawl up my wrists and forearms.

"Please. just leave me. You don't understand."

Sirius's boots thumped on the ground softly once he removed them and let out a small exasperated sigh. I heard his cloak drop to the floor as he plodded his way to the mahogany desk and took out, what I could only guess, was the Marauders map. I felt a twinge of desire to aid with its production. After all, I did come up with the idea. Yet I would refuse to give in.

'You gonna help with this, or not?'

'I'm not up to it tonight, Pads. Tomorrow.'

I peeped ever so slightly from beneath my covers and blinked. Sirius had turned to me and was looking quite serious. His endearing dark eyes looked at me imploringly, expecting me to answer a silent question that was blatantly obvious. This was one problem he'd have to figure out for himself. And yet, I feel guilty. He didn't mean any harm did he..? What difference did it make? All my life I have been considered the weak one, the boy who is too ill and frail to fend for himself, a child, helpless. Sirius thought I was no better. He thinks it's pleasurable to embarrass the weak. I nuzzled into the soft pillows and moaned. Maybe I was.

'Pads..? You don't hate me, do you?' I said after a purged silence.

Sirius glanced up from his parchment preoccupied and said, 'No.'

'Then why did you tell everyone that I was...you know...'

'Well aren't you?'

I could have throttled him. Yes, I was. I had told him in confidence. Me, willing to share something about myself without heaving it on my back for years on end. Good god, what have I done to him to deserve this? It was no extraordinary secret that when boys called each other queer, it was meant as an insult, not as some glorious acceptance speech. Queer: it was a dirty, shameless word.

'That's not the point. I told you because I trusted you...and you...Never mind.' There was no use in talking to him when he was so blatantly unable to comprehend.

'You seemed so upset when you told me; I wanted to prove to you that it didn't matter, not to Prongs, Wormtail, Lily or anybody...' I could feel the guilt-heat run up the back of his neck as he stiffened. Only the hasty scratching of a quill on parchment could be heard.

Liar! It does matter. And you knew it did.

I remember the cold stare he gave Snape when he passed by him a couple of months ago, calling him a 'prissy boy' and a 'cock-sucker'. I was ashamed. More than anything, I knew what it was like to feel scrutinized and hated and thought of as unnatural. And yet, there he was, just taking it all. I think Sirius must have known the truth from that exact moment I looked at Snape. It was a stupid look neither filled with hatred or sympathy but curiosity. Snape didn't even look up; he just kept marching on miserably ahead, suspending his usual wit-fest of sarcastic comments. I think Sirius hurt him that day. Really hurt him. No longer did it matter if he called him 'greasy haired git' or a 'slime-bludger' for he had cut a chord in Snape's soul, whatever that was, and hurt him bad. Truth hurt more than abuse.

Sirius kept on trying to give me warning signs the day after. He simply didn't trust me. I didn't fancy him or anything but he looked at me as I did. I suppose that's what you get for being the most chased after boy in our year. He was handsome in a roguish sort of way with his savage eyes and wayward smile. I would be paranoid too if I looked that great.

I lay huddled in bed, hours passing before either of us said a word to each other. Suddenly the sounds of smashing, jeers and drunkenness came pillaging through the warm, oak fired dorm. I grew awash with terror and fear. Who were they? The anger with which Sirius flung his chair down was what I could only describe as terrifying. Realising that I wasn't dreaming, I hurtled from my bed and muttered a small, calming charm. In my hastiness, it didn't work and I erupted from my curtained haven with shock. It was James and Peter, laughing manically. They were with Lily, who was standing awkwardly by the fire, her sleeves rolled up and crossed before her waist with an expression of deep annoyance.

'It's not that funny...He might be trying to sleep. You're so immature, I don't know why I came back with you!'

When they saw me, they stopped, paralysed, and then burst into fits of laughter. Sirius who was sober, jetted me a look of apology and urged me with his eyes to shut my ears and go to bed. Like a child, I growled to myself, they expected me to behave like a child.

'Look who's here!' coughed an inebriated James gleefully. His eyes weren't focused; in fact, I couldn't tell what he was looking at: my bed, my disheveled robes or my baffled expression. But it was joyful, merry look, which was fueled with an undercurrent of hostility.

'It's the fairy boy! And doesn't he look like one? Y-know Lily. I really should've known before. He ain't had a girlfriend or anything. I thought he just had the plague, but now I know better.'

'Your drunk, James. Stop it. You don't know what you're saying.' Sirius said firmly, avoiding my eyes.

'Snape would be perfect for him!' Pettigrew snickered, putting his pudgy fist to his mouth craftily. 'After all, he is the King of Pricks.'

As a pack of wolves, howling in their own hilarity, James and Peter collapsed to ground in fits of giggles. I just stood shocked, pale and trembling with the approaching of tears. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

But it was too late.

When the first tear fell, drop after drop followed. I had never seen any of them like that before. Well...yes. sometimes. But that was always about other people. I must have been shivering, because Lily threw me Sirius' cloak and gently said, 'Don't take any notice, Remus. They don't mean it.'

'Awww...look the little Nancy boy is crying now. I think he needs a big macho-man to cuddle up to.'

'Stop it!' Sirius ordered firmly.

'I think he wants you, Sirius. Look at the way he stares at you with those large pleading eyes. You want him don't you Moony. Go on. Give your name justice, bend down, yank up those robes and we'll all have a poke.'

Lily at this point jolted up angrily and stamped her foot down fiercely. 'You won't speak to him like that! James! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?'

'Ohhh....Lily...Don't get jealous. Real men like me don't need to deal with trash like that.'

At this, he made towards her, stumbling to his feet. He swayed like a wooden man unable to stand and tried to kiss her. She writhed in repulsion and thrust him away.

'Get lost, Potter! You're so foul...I can't believe you!'

He stumbled and fell onto the floor, sprawled like a puppet with no Master.

Blank.

Stop.

Help.

Madness whirled around me like a hot hell. James was buckled on the ground coughing in spurts of mirthless laughter. Peter was grinning crazily, high on amusement. Lily was furious, indignant, and disgusted by her own presence in the room. Sirius was blank faced, remorseful and sombre, fiddling with his quill furiously. The heady brew of schoolboy excitement, raw humiliation and ruthless mocking made the walls seem to cave in and I rushed to the door at top speed. I bounded towards the Gryffindor Common room refusing to look back. I banged the huge door shut and at once was hit by a strong silence.

What if one of them tried to come after me?

I would have to find a place that they wouldn't look.

Writhing with humiliation, I brushed my warm tears away with my shoddy robe sleeve and, being extremely quiet, headed out of the Gryffindor Common room, into the silent hallway. The Fat Lady was asleep and so, craftily, with my heart exploding in my chest, I stalked down it, looking for a place that wouldn't judge me for who I was.

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Continued from Lupin's point of view.