Remus stood with his arms up, welcoming the scalding water that was
drumming onto his shoulders. The sound of the lone shower echoed around the
6th years bathroom, bouncing off the tiles running with condensation and
steaming the mirrors up.
In the dormitories the boys were sleeping peacefully, their quiet breathing occasionally punctured by a snore or a mumbled word. Remus could hear Peter's snoring above all the others and he thought he caught the sound of Sirius' voice, muttering something in his sleep. Then it was quiet again.
Remus' pale skin was turning blotchy in the heat as he scrubbed feverously at himself with his hands and soap. His nails dug into his skin and caused red lines to appear across it's fragile surface. It was as though he thought that if he washed hard enough and long enough, he could wash the nights events from his mind, his body. Tilting his head back, he let the steaming water fill his mouth, washing away the lingering taste of Branwen. Remus felt curiously numb. It was as though, here, in the familiar surroundings of the bathroom, with the shower running and all the other boys sleeping in their beds, the events of the evening had never happened. It was a dream, something that he had invented, another of his what-if stories, or would-you-rather ones;
Would you rather the whole school knew that you were a werewolf, or that you were raped by Branwen in an empty classroom?
Remus spat the water onto the tiles and waited for the water to stop. Blindly, he reached out and grabbed the towel that he knew would be there, roughly drying his face and torso. It wasn't a dream, his body told him. How could dreams leave purple bruises on the sides of your chest. How could dreams cause you to ache all over and your head to thump to the sound of bone on stone.
At least my appetite has disappeared, Remus thought dully as he pulled his pyjamas on and slung his clothes and towel over one arm. His body ached and his scratches stung slightly as he walked. He could not wait to lye in his own bed and let sleep claim him.
The pyjamas were not his own, he had ripped his up during one of his more violent nightmares and he was borrowing a pair of Sirius'. I wonder if Sirius would want me to wear his pyjamas if he knew what had happened to me tonight, Remus thought as he passed his sleeping friend's bed. Sirius' face, usually composed to look cheerful and carefree when awake, was serious and troubled in his sleep. A frown wrinkled his forehead and Sirius turned in his sleep, pushing his head into his pillow. Sirius had an unhappy home life, Remus knew that, and he didn't want to add another worry to his friend's shoulders. Anyway, the thought of telling anyone made Remus cringe. It'll just blow over, he told himself, she's got what she wanted and me? Well, I've always had secrets and this is just another one.
Remus overslept the next morning, left by his friends to sleep a little longer. Despite the fact that Remus had been careful not to wake anyone the previous night, James had heard him return and go to bed and had warned the others not to wake him.
Remus opened his eyes slowly and blearily and shut them again immediately as the morning light hit them with unmerciful brightness. He felt terrible. His stomach ached and he had a dull headache beginning. Of course, he thought and he felt the familiar flip in his stomach, tonight it's the full moon. But there was something else. He groaned as he turned onto his side and felt his bruises and scratches protest. Last night, Branwen. He was no longer a virgin. He felt like throwing up. And dirty, he felt so dirty. Slowly, he got out of bed and stumbled to the showers where he woke up gradually under the soothing rush of warm water. Oblivious to the scratches and bruises he already had, he began rubbing again, this time with a bristly back-scrubber that Peter or James must have left behind. Sirius didn't use such things, and treated them with disdain. He preferred to wash in his dog form, and shake himself dry afterwards.
Remus was about to open the door to the common room when it burst open and his three friends tumbled in, laughing and panting.
"Oh, hey Moony!" gasped James, "We were just coming to get you."
"We brought you some breakfast!" squeaked Peter as he stood up from the pile, letting Sirius pull James up.
"I'm afraid it's a bit squashed now," said Sirius regretfully, looking at the pile of buttery toast in his hand, "But it still tastes pretty good" he decided brightly as they all walked into the common room, oblivious to the blush slowly creeping into Remus' cheeks.
"Hey you! That's for Moony!" laughed James, snatching the slightly crushed toast from Sirius and then flopping down into one of the chairs. He took a large bite from the one Sirius had chewed and then handed them to Peter "Actually, you're right, they don't taste half bad!"
Peter, looking down at the toast, said thoughtfully, "It's the full moon tonight, isn't it? I don't think I can come. I've got that Potions homework we got set AGES ago and I still haven't done it, and then there's the History of Magic project. I still haven't decided what I'm doing. What're you doing James?" He took a small nibble from the corner of the toast and then gave the whole pile to Remus who was still hovering in the doorway. He gratefully took them and then went and sat on the sofa, next to Peter, carefully avoiding making eye contact with anyone.
"Dunno." Said James carelessly, "But listen, about tonight. You have to go, 'cos I can't. I've got Quidditch practise."
"Again?" said Sirius incredulously from his perch on the arm of the sofa "But you had it last night!"
"Yeah, I know. But we've got a really tough match against Slytherin next Saturday and Versey really doesn't want to lose. I'm sorry guys but you'll just have to do it without me."
"Ah well, looks like it's just you and me then, eh Moony?" Sirius mock- sighed, putting a hand on Remus' shoulder. Remus stared studiously at the last piece of toast in his hands and tried to stop himself from turning red. Branwen had touched him there. It was as though he could feel her touch, like a rash beneath his clothes.
"What's wrong anyway Remus? What time did you get back last night? Must have been late, you look terrible."
Unable to meet Sirius' inquiring and concerned gaze, Remus just shrugged one shoulder and put the rest of the toast into his mouth.
"Shit! First lesson started 15 minutes ago!" announced Peter, jumping up from the sofa "Professor Binns is going to kill us!"
Glad of a distraction, Remus followed slowly as his friends rushed out of the portrait hole.
In the dormitories the boys were sleeping peacefully, their quiet breathing occasionally punctured by a snore or a mumbled word. Remus could hear Peter's snoring above all the others and he thought he caught the sound of Sirius' voice, muttering something in his sleep. Then it was quiet again.
Remus' pale skin was turning blotchy in the heat as he scrubbed feverously at himself with his hands and soap. His nails dug into his skin and caused red lines to appear across it's fragile surface. It was as though he thought that if he washed hard enough and long enough, he could wash the nights events from his mind, his body. Tilting his head back, he let the steaming water fill his mouth, washing away the lingering taste of Branwen. Remus felt curiously numb. It was as though, here, in the familiar surroundings of the bathroom, with the shower running and all the other boys sleeping in their beds, the events of the evening had never happened. It was a dream, something that he had invented, another of his what-if stories, or would-you-rather ones;
Would you rather the whole school knew that you were a werewolf, or that you were raped by Branwen in an empty classroom?
Remus spat the water onto the tiles and waited for the water to stop. Blindly, he reached out and grabbed the towel that he knew would be there, roughly drying his face and torso. It wasn't a dream, his body told him. How could dreams leave purple bruises on the sides of your chest. How could dreams cause you to ache all over and your head to thump to the sound of bone on stone.
At least my appetite has disappeared, Remus thought dully as he pulled his pyjamas on and slung his clothes and towel over one arm. His body ached and his scratches stung slightly as he walked. He could not wait to lye in his own bed and let sleep claim him.
The pyjamas were not his own, he had ripped his up during one of his more violent nightmares and he was borrowing a pair of Sirius'. I wonder if Sirius would want me to wear his pyjamas if he knew what had happened to me tonight, Remus thought as he passed his sleeping friend's bed. Sirius' face, usually composed to look cheerful and carefree when awake, was serious and troubled in his sleep. A frown wrinkled his forehead and Sirius turned in his sleep, pushing his head into his pillow. Sirius had an unhappy home life, Remus knew that, and he didn't want to add another worry to his friend's shoulders. Anyway, the thought of telling anyone made Remus cringe. It'll just blow over, he told himself, she's got what she wanted and me? Well, I've always had secrets and this is just another one.
Remus overslept the next morning, left by his friends to sleep a little longer. Despite the fact that Remus had been careful not to wake anyone the previous night, James had heard him return and go to bed and had warned the others not to wake him.
Remus opened his eyes slowly and blearily and shut them again immediately as the morning light hit them with unmerciful brightness. He felt terrible. His stomach ached and he had a dull headache beginning. Of course, he thought and he felt the familiar flip in his stomach, tonight it's the full moon. But there was something else. He groaned as he turned onto his side and felt his bruises and scratches protest. Last night, Branwen. He was no longer a virgin. He felt like throwing up. And dirty, he felt so dirty. Slowly, he got out of bed and stumbled to the showers where he woke up gradually under the soothing rush of warm water. Oblivious to the scratches and bruises he already had, he began rubbing again, this time with a bristly back-scrubber that Peter or James must have left behind. Sirius didn't use such things, and treated them with disdain. He preferred to wash in his dog form, and shake himself dry afterwards.
Remus was about to open the door to the common room when it burst open and his three friends tumbled in, laughing and panting.
"Oh, hey Moony!" gasped James, "We were just coming to get you."
"We brought you some breakfast!" squeaked Peter as he stood up from the pile, letting Sirius pull James up.
"I'm afraid it's a bit squashed now," said Sirius regretfully, looking at the pile of buttery toast in his hand, "But it still tastes pretty good" he decided brightly as they all walked into the common room, oblivious to the blush slowly creeping into Remus' cheeks.
"Hey you! That's for Moony!" laughed James, snatching the slightly crushed toast from Sirius and then flopping down into one of the chairs. He took a large bite from the one Sirius had chewed and then handed them to Peter "Actually, you're right, they don't taste half bad!"
Peter, looking down at the toast, said thoughtfully, "It's the full moon tonight, isn't it? I don't think I can come. I've got that Potions homework we got set AGES ago and I still haven't done it, and then there's the History of Magic project. I still haven't decided what I'm doing. What're you doing James?" He took a small nibble from the corner of the toast and then gave the whole pile to Remus who was still hovering in the doorway. He gratefully took them and then went and sat on the sofa, next to Peter, carefully avoiding making eye contact with anyone.
"Dunno." Said James carelessly, "But listen, about tonight. You have to go, 'cos I can't. I've got Quidditch practise."
"Again?" said Sirius incredulously from his perch on the arm of the sofa "But you had it last night!"
"Yeah, I know. But we've got a really tough match against Slytherin next Saturday and Versey really doesn't want to lose. I'm sorry guys but you'll just have to do it without me."
"Ah well, looks like it's just you and me then, eh Moony?" Sirius mock- sighed, putting a hand on Remus' shoulder. Remus stared studiously at the last piece of toast in his hands and tried to stop himself from turning red. Branwen had touched him there. It was as though he could feel her touch, like a rash beneath his clothes.
"What's wrong anyway Remus? What time did you get back last night? Must have been late, you look terrible."
Unable to meet Sirius' inquiring and concerned gaze, Remus just shrugged one shoulder and put the rest of the toast into his mouth.
"Shit! First lesson started 15 minutes ago!" announced Peter, jumping up from the sofa "Professor Binns is going to kill us!"
Glad of a distraction, Remus followed slowly as his friends rushed out of the portrait hole.