AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey ya'll. I wish smileys worked with FF (dot) net. Anyway! This has been sitting on my hard drive a while, but I figured I'd let you guys have some time to absorb chapter 3 before I uploaded 4. More drama! Oh, boys.
When Remus awoke, cold and sore in the Hospital Wing, he couldn't shake off the strange memories of feelings from the night before, felt through the Wolf's senses.
He didn't feel any worse than normal; the usual expected sore muscles and scratches had become routine on his morning-afters. He could feel a bit of bandage and gauze running awkwardly down his neck, and the tawny-haired teen assumed that was his lone battle scar from the night before.
The Wolf had been rather placid last night, he remembered absently. The dreams he had woken from merely moments before hadn't been nearly as hyperactive and jumbled as standard; the visions of madness soothed into cool flashes of floorboards creaking beneath his massive paws, Padfoot, and moonlight streaming through branches…
Branches?
Remus paused and sat up a little straighter, amber eyes widening infinitesimally- even when alone, the mature boy wouldn't allow his emotions to play openly across his face; a Poker Face, as Sirius liked to call it.
Had the Wolf really been – he hated to even imagine it – outside? Had Padf—had Sirius really trusted him that much?
With a wince, Remus mentally scolded himself. Of course Sirius didn't trust a bloodthirsty werewolf. He was Sirius Black, for Christ's sake—he had most likely forgotten what he was dealing with, and relaxed a little bit too much.
Remus bit anxiously at his lower lip. While he understood that the Wolf was clearly happy to have a friend of the canine variety, he now believed it not an entirely wonderful idea to have just Padfoot watch over the Wolf. Prongs would be cautious; Peter would be a worrywart. While Sirius would complain that those two traits only combined into one large party pooper, the logical side of Remus (honestly, was there an illogical side to him?) knew those two traits to be immensely, wonderfully terrific at the right time.
The scrawny teen was startled out of his thoughts (on how to discuss what had transpired without making Sirius feel chastised) by Madame Pomfrey, who bustled over to him, carrying a tray of bandages and gauze and what looked like a nasty potion of some sort.
Remus attempted to sit up, but hissed as a red-hot poker raced down his neck, causing him to arch his back involuntarily. Pomfrey, seeing this, hurried over and gently took Remus' head, bending it ever so slightly forward so as to get access to the old bandages.
"My, my, Remus," she clucked, gingerly peeling back some sort of medical tape, "Your regeneration skills are quite something!"
Remus, who had been idly letting his mind wander, came back to himself and raised his brows in surprise.
"If I were any sort of real mediwitch, I would set about finding a way to extract that skill and reproduce it magically."
Remus sat there, staring intently at the sterile white sheets, wincing slightly when the bandages were pulled tight over the gauze.
"What… uhm, what exactly do you mean?" he asked softly, turning his eyes to try and get a glimpse of his caretaker.
"This gash, on your neck--" she started, applying pressure to the bandages, "it must be at least a half-inch deep. But by the time I had you settled in here, the bleeding appeared to have long since stopped!"
The older witch tenderly leaned Remus back into the pillow, placing the used bandages onto the tray, and then handing Remus some sort of bubbling brew.
"For the muscle aches and bruised bones," she explained with a wry smile when she caught Remus' mask slip into an expression of dread. It hadn't been his fault, really; the Wolf had a terrifically, awfully good sense of smell.
He swallowed it down in one giant gulp, his eyes watering as the stench turned into a bitter, vile aftertaste. Yet, neither the sensation of the fiery potion sliding down his throat, nor the sudden absence of pain was enough to distract Remus from his serious thoughts.
If there was one thing that Remus knew, it was that his werewolf regeneration was not up to par with the damage he inflicted every full moon night. If that were the case, he would never need to come into the Hospital Wing to recuperate after a long night. A gash that deep would never have healed by the time Pomfrey came to escort him, which meant only one thing—
Sirius had healed him.
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As the train began to lurch into motion, Remus worriedly glanced over the edge of his book, waiting anxiously for a familiar face to poke into his train compartment.
Had they forgotten him? It had been a rather long summer, and Remus hadn't had much of a chance to write any of his newfound companions. Sirius couldn't be in want for a space to sit—any girl in the entire school (with the exception of most Slytherins) would gladly have shoved their seatmates off the train to make room for the dark-haired heir.
Remus again glanced over the edge of his book, his reading glasses sliding down his nose and resting against the top of the pages.
Not even Peter, then? Oh, of course not. Peter was constantly loyal to James. Besides, what had Remus been to them all of first year but a shy, pathetic wet blanket that went missing more times than could be counted?
Remus had always been one faltering, unsure step behind his comrades, at times going along simply because they where the only people he could talk to, and if he didn't go with them, where was the promise that they would come back?
"Sirius, you arse, that's my robe you're stepping on!"
"Here, James, let me take your owl."
"Oh, Pete, stop being such a –"
Remus' head shot up, the book off to his side and forgotten, as he caught sight of his three closest (only) companions pushing their way down the hallway and making their way into the train compartment. James' mouth was pushed wide with a smile as he began to speak,
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"Get out of here, Potter, Black, Pettigrew!" came a distinctly female voice, jolting Remus from his sleep, and giving the teen an excuse to cringe and hiss in pain.
"We're here to see Remus!" exclaimed Peter from somewhere out of Remus' sight, which wasn't hard to be, what with the curtain drawn tightly around his bed.
"Oh no you are not—the lot of you, out!"
"Aw, c'mon Ms. P! We're Remus' best mates! … Only ones he's got, really, but his best just the same!"
Remus cringed at Sirius' blunt words, made all the more painful by how true they were. He knew that Madame Pomfrey would have no excuse but to give in with that kind of logic-- as much as she wanted Remus to rest, she also had been there from the start to watch him slowly find friends.
There was a moment of silence, followed by an aggravated sigh, after which came the stampede of footsteps on the smooth white-and-black speckled marble floors.
"Remus!" James exclaimed, throwing back the curtains and smiling broadly. (Even without any sort of mischievous intent, James' smile always looked devious, Remus noted.)
"Hiya, Remus." Peter mumbled, his voice subdued in a polite manner as he smiled timidly, thick lips sealed together to prevent the exposure of his ever-so-slightly crooked teeth.
"Cheers, Moony!" A shaggy, black haired teen declared, leaping unto Remus' bed with no more grace than a whale throwing itself up and out of a tank of water. The box spring creaked audibly under the change in weight, but Sirius' infallible smirk never left his face.
"Glad to see you lot are in lovely spirits," Remus grumbled, hunkering under his sheets and allowing a small smile to grace his thin face. James settled himself in a spare chair to the side of Remus' bed, while Peter stood off to the side of James, hands behind his back.
"How was the prank?" Remus asked as Sirius lounged sideways across the bed, careful not to squash the occupant's legs.
"It went off without a single hitch—bloody brilliant… oh Pads, you would have loved it! I don't know about you, Mr. Prefect," James paused and stuck his tongue out childishly at Remus, drawing the stoic teen's face into a wider, warmer grin.
"A few of the first years ran from the room screaming at the whole skeleton bit," Peter added hastily, scratching the tip of his nose.
"Did you both get days of detentions?" Sirius interjected, propping his head on his hand, lying on his side, facing the head of the bed "Scrubbing the floors in the potions room without magic?"
"No detentions, actually," James muttered, sounding as mystified as Sirius' face looked. "Dumbledore was quite impressed… he even gave us 10 more points."
"McGonagall must be furious," Remus guessed, laying his head back against the pillow.
"Well, yeah… You know how she never misses a single chance to land our arses in detention."
"Another for the Marauder record books," Sirius whistled, shaking his head. "Gods, I wish I could have been there!"
"I told you to leave," Remus muttered to himself, glaring down at the cold bed sheets.
"What's that, Remus?" Peter inquired, making Remus look up quickly, startled.
"I- ah, just… Just sorry that Pads and I couldn't see it," he fumbled, dismissing the portly teen's sympathy. "And … Well, I'm sure he and I missed out on all the great chocolate."
The boys shared a conspiratory chuckle at this line; chocolate was Remus' one and only true love. The jovial sound soon turned into an outcry of pain for Remus, the boy grasping his side and biting harshly down on his lower lip to quell the noises.
"Remus?" Pomfrey cried, the sound of her clipped footsteps creating a strange echo off the empty room as she stormed over and glared intensely at the four boys.
"Out! Now! The entire squadron of you ne'er do wells!" she hissed, glaring heatedly at each boy in turn. Peter and James leapt up, following the medical witch towards the entrance to the wing; Sirius suddenly jerked upright, reaching into the billowing folds of his robe.
"Blasted pockets," the shaggy-haired boy murmured – his black hair was nearly over his eyebrows, now. As he withdrew his hand, Remus took note of the rather large chocolate bar dangling daintily from his aristocratic fingertips, long since defiled of their cushy softness and replaced with time hardened calluses.
"Pads—" Remus started, glaring uselessly at Sirius, even as a wide smile broke his tired face apart.
"It was rather called for, Moons. Besides, don't we more than pay back ol' Honeyduke whenever we head out to Hogsmeade?" Sirius interrupted, reading Remus' mind with too much ease for the dusty brown-haired boy.
Remus sighed, gingerly taking the chocolate in his pale hands, jealously bubbling up when he was able to view their hands in comparison; Sirius' were tan and… well, healthy, whereas Remus' were pale and rather boney.
"Thank you, Sirius," Remus whispered, and, when he made eye contact with the black haired Animagus, it became clear that they both understood that he meant more than the chocolate.
Sirius ducked through the portrait hole and into the common room, fire blazing, the warm orange light emanating across the otherwise gray Gryffindor common room as the Black heir quickly glanced around.
Remus was perched in an armchair, knees curled under him as he took large bites out of one of the chocolate bars Sirius had given to the werewolf just over two weeks ago. On his lap, Remus turned the pages in what appeared to be a book that was being read for academic purposes, which made Sirius grumble under his breath as he approached. One could never expect to find Remus Lupin far from a book at any given moment.
"Remus, mate!" Siuius exclaimed when he was but a foot or so away, reveling childishly in how Remus' started, his eyes wide as he turned his attention to the black haired teen. His usually warm amber eyes hardened as he glared tiredly at Sirius, making the Animagus feel slightly guilty. Slightly.
"Hello, Sirius," Remus muttered quickly, doing his best to angle himself away from Sirius and bury himself in his book. Sirius, not deterred in the least, perched himself on the right arm of the chair, messenger bag leaning against his leg.
"Fear of the Dark; What to do if facing against Dark Arts?" Sirius read, his head cocked at a sideways angle to read the spine, "Honestly, Remus, you study too much." He sighed, shaking his head.
"I'm a Prefect this year, Mr. Black. I don't have time for foolish shenanigans."
Honestly- Sirius couldn't remember the last prank that Remus had been a part of. Then again, most of their pranks recently had been targeted at Snape, thanks to James' growing obsession with Lily Evans. Remus had made it clear from the beginning that he wasn't going to help his companions in torturing Snape… probably because he thought it would harm his chances at becoming – and keeping the title of – Prefect.
"Being a bore is different from you not wanting McGonagall to realize how 'up to no good' you really are," Sirius reprimanded playfully, shaking his head.
"Exactly," Remus agreed, gazing up at Sirius with a knowing smile gently pulling at the corners of his ashen face, "So, Sirius… what brings you to the common room before curfew on a Sunday eve?"
"I thought you'd never ask, Moony," Sirius exclaimed, quietly tacking on Remus' nickname with a wide grin.
Before Sirius could even begin to explain his predicament, the aristocratic wizard watched Remus' smile falter; his eyes narrow in suspicion. While Remus had always been good at reading people, he'd become very adept at knowing exactly what every minute facial expression meant among his three companions.
Not allowing the scrawny werewolf a second to interrupt, Sirius quickly continued.
"You see, Slughorn assigned us this horrible essay on the uses of rat's tails. We have to explain why in Merlin's bloomers wizards first thought they would be a useful addition to recipes, and then we have to explain why we still use rat's tails in potions--"
"Yes, Sirius, I'm well aware of the prompt for Tuesday's essay," Remus quipped, closing his book with a loud snap that nearly – nearly - made Sirius nervous.
"—And I've got this date with Alice, you know, that one that Frank Longbottom was dating for a bit… she's actually using me to get Frank jealous, which I think is a rather wonderful idea. But I've got to get his essay done. Now, I've gotten where the blasted tails came from—"
"They come from rats Sirius," Remus interrupted dryly, sounding rather tired and cross and I-really-would-like-to-be-left-to-read-my-book, but Sirius simply snapped back,
"Not that, you bloody ninny. Anyway, I've still got to find out why we still use the wriggling things. Have you finished yours?"
"Yes, actually, and the—" Remus stopped short, and then glared exasperatedly at Sirius, which withered Sirius' grand tirade. "You're going to get me one day, Sirius. I was rather close that time- really, I should know better than to even let you explain. Do your own essay, you git. Honestly, you, Prongs and Wormtail figure out one of the most complicated—"
"And illegal," Sirius bent at the waist and whispered the reminder in Remus' ear quickly, grinning secretively. The animagus watched a warm blush run up Remus' neck at the close proximity; Remus still was rather skittish about personal space.
"Y-yes, that too," the werewolf continued, "And yet you can't just sit your arse down in the Library and do a little research?"
Remus had angled himself further away from Sirius, knees still tucked tightly underneath him as he opened his book again, clearly intent upon ignoring Sirius completely.
"Remus, you're quiet a wet blanket at times, do you know that?" Sirius hissed, raking a hand back through his long black hair before moving to sit in another chair and work on his essay.
"…Where're Jamesn'Peter?" Remus asked suddenly, and Sirius definitely did not like that the way Remus said it made the two sound like their names were just one solid word; one entity.
From the start, Sirius had realized that Peter was a wormy sort, weaving his way in on James' robe ends, laughing at the spectacled wizard's every joke, worshipping the very ground James walked on— it all made Sirius rather sick. While Sirius couldn't hold the entire Animagus thing against Peter, he could blame it all on his want to do whatever in Merlin's name James did. Sirius knew full well that if James jumped off a bridge, Peter would gladly follow. Unfortunately, because of his stellar, kiss-bum behavior, only Sirius seemed to have picked up a dislike for the corpulent, greasy rat.
"James is off trying to woo Evans... either that, or he's pranking Snivellus."
"You'd figure Prongs would've learned by now that he's not earning points by doing the latter," Remus sighed. Everyone knew that Remus disagreed greatly with the marauders treatment of Snape… or at least, he'd come to think so. In his first years, when Remus had been an overeager ball of friendship, he had enthusiastically contributed ideas to the torture of the Slytherin wizard. But as he grew older, and realized – while even James remained lost – that Snape was a dear friend of Lily's and was not to be trifled with, he'd stepped back from the pranking and nearly become friends with the bird.
Sirius shrugged at Remus' comment, pressing his quill gingerly to the page, "Well, he's James, Moony. Don't expect too much of 'im. I think Peter is off in the library… probably obsessing over Herbology."
Sirius chanced a glance at Remus, catching the other Marauder's eye over the book. He watched as Remus stuffed a square of chocolate into his mouth and finally looked away; the scarred boy was always the one to look away first.
"Hogsmead coming up," Sirius mentioned loftily, scribbling a note about how the rats nearly were nearly killed off by muggles when the plague broke out, centuries ago.
"Mmm?" came Remus' distant hum of a reply, his eyes glued to the pages of his book.
"You're running low on chocolate, Remus," Sirius explained, smiling and rolling his eyes when Remus finally looked up. "So we'll have to get you some on the upcoming Hogsmeade trip."
For a moment, Sirius sat stock still anxiously as Remus' gaze turned calculating, running from his head to his toes. Remus was trying to read him.
"Mm-hmm. Yeah, alright Sirius." The werewolf said after a long moment, before his buried his face in the pages of his book, and didn't look up.
At breakfast, nearly a week and a half later, the four marauders sat nestled around their plates of warm bacon, eggs, toast and hot chocolate – a special treat, because it'd been so cold of late.
James, in full Chaser garb, was animatedly talking with some of his teammates down the table, while at the same time managing to stuff ungodly amounts of food down his throat.
Sirius was also animatedly talking with a gaggle of girls; most of the female population at Hogwarts had come to admire Sirius' looks or stature at some point, although Remus was happy to say that it hadn't gone entirely to the other boy's head… yet. Granted, Sirius couldn't beat the girls away with a troll's club, but if there was one thing Sirius thrived on, it was attention.
Peter, the quietest of the group, was eating food at a pace nearly to double James'—the portliest of the boys was always ready to go whenever James was, even if it meant aspirating on a mouthful of pumpkin juice.
Remus, for his own sanity, was eating rather slowly, reveling in the chaos that reigned around him, yet did not absorb him. He felt a part of life; James would continually turn to Remus, ask some sort of question relating to quidditch, and then quickly turn back to his teammates and cry out a childish,
"See? I was right! Remus said so!"
Sirius, who kept on glancing beseechingly at Remus, begging him to say 'Sirius, didn't you leave that…' or 'Sirius, we really must go…', but, although the werewolf would never admit it to anyone, he enjoyed watching Sirius squirm every once in a while.
Remus and Peter, for their part, merely exchanged knowing glances across the table. It was as typical a weekend as any, with the added excitement of a quidditch game against their archrivals, the Slytherins.
Unfortunately, because of the added incentive – and green flag – to be a little bit nastier to their green classmates, Remus knew that it wouldn't be long before words began to fly between James and Snape. It would mean that Remus, on top of his already daunting job of being the mother hen to his rowdy group of friends, would also have to play Prefect. He really didn't want to have to deduct points from his own house on the day of a match.
Ever alert, Remus stood from the table as the rest of his friends did- James grouping closer to his team, Sirius batting the girls away with promises that he'd be at the match, and Peter scampering off behind James.
As Remus and Sirius together moved to follow the Gryffindor team into the hallway, the green-and-silver glimmering Slytherins seemed to apparate in the entryway. As the two teams passed, the air was tense and crackling with anger, which only served to make Remus more anxious.
With James in the lead – James always lead – the entire group that had trouble fitting abreast in the hallway turned a corner and stopped short, a low oath uttered from ahead.
"Watch where you're going, Snivellus,"
At the harsh, jeering comment, Remus quickly pulled away from Sirius and pushed his way through the thick band of people that made up the team, trying to shut James up before this could escalate.
As he made his way past the last of the throng, he could see James, standing point center and a foot or so in front of the others, shoulders thrown back stiffly as he glared at Severus Snape.
Snape was nearly as tall as James, now, and his hair had begun to rival Sirius' in length, although it appeared to have a more oily quality. His skin had always been an ashen pale – not white, but severely lacking in color. His dark, black eyes, faintly slanted and constantly narrowed in apprehensive aggression, were focused on James' face. His hands were concealed in his robes, and it made Remus nervous. Snape was well known for inventing his own curses and charms.
"You were the one who came around the corner first, Potter," Snape murmured offhandedly, appearing to all the world like he couldn't care less what James said to him. Somewhere to his left, Remus became aware of Sirius' presence.
"I'm not in the mood for your face today, Snivelly," James hissed nastily, pressing two fingers to his temple in a show of having a headache, which, of course, Remus knew he didn't have. "Move."
Remus noticed the barely perceptible twitch at the corner of Severus' eye, his upper lip curling rather unattractively. Remus fingered his Prefect's badge absently, turning to look to Sirius for support. As per normal, the Black heir was simply standing there, horribly dark grin lighting up his sculptured face. Merlin, this was going to end badly- he just knew it. Turning back to the lead prankster, Remus began to try and talk him out of any sort of confrontation.
"Jame—"
"LANGLOCK!"
The cry was so sudden, so piercing, the silence afterwards rung faintly in Remus' ears. The entire hallway was hushed, Remus rushing over to inspect James, who looked no worse for wear; he wasn't on fire, he wasn't bleeding, and none of his body –at least that could be seen- was a strange color. Everyone seemed to take a step back as they waited to see what the unheard-of spell had done.
"James?"
"Ah ou!" came the muffled reply, James opening his mouth widely and showing all around him that his tongue was neatly stuck to the top of his mouth. Remus sighed with relief- who could really complain about a quiet James, after all – but still had to play the role of Prefect, even if it was in order to admonish a student from another house.
"Densaugeo!"
"Bloody—Sirius!" Remus whirled around just in time to see Sirius give a wave of the wand. Turning around in what felt like slow motion, Remus watched as Snape's teeth began to grow, until he had horribly large, biscuit-sized buckteeth and couldn't keep his mouth shut.
"Ah-uh-oy!" James exclaimed happily, walking over to clap Sirius a high-five.
"Expelliarmus!" Remus cried, a red streak blasting all three of the teen's wands far out of reach. With a wordless flick of his own wand, Remus summoned the three other wands into his hands, where he held them tightly and turned to look upon the three with open disdain.
"While I shan't deny that James was a right prick, hexing another student is not acceptable, Severus," Remus started, hating the parental tone to his voice. "Sirius," the werewolf turned to his companion, shaking his head. "Because you were fighting back – and because I'm doing the same to Slytherin – 10 points from both Gryffindor."
Sirius made a move to open his mouth, but Remus quickly cut him off, turning around to face James.
"Quite frankly, James, you don't need your tongue to play Quidditch. I'm not worried about the lasting affects. Severus…" he paused, looking at Snape but doing his best to avoid eye contact. "I suggest you go to Pomfrey and get those teeth looked at. I'm telling McGonagall, and she'll likely tell Slughorn."
Gingerly, Remus handed them all back their wands, waiting for the tension to break.
Remus could feel the team's eyes boring into his back; it wasn't often that Remus Lupin opened his mouth and berated other students. Severus looked rather miffed as he moved away, but Remus liked to think that it was more directed at James, Sirius, and the embarrassing situation than he himself. James managed to look rather guilty as he pushed by Severus with no more than a grunt, affectively pulling the team with him.
But, Sirius…
"How could you do that, Remus?" Sirius hissed. Remus shrugged, standing awkwardly, tucking his own wand back into his pocket, his earlier bravado suddenly sucked away.
"I have to do my job, Sirius." He replied quietly, firmly.
"You sided with that slimy bugger!" Sirius reiterated, glaring.
"I was fair with both houses. To be honest, I should have taken more from Gryffindor, since your behavior was far from necessary," Remus snapped, glaring right back.
"'Far from necessary'?! Moony, listen to yourself! By God, you sound like my blasted mother!"
The insult weight heavily on Remus' heart, for there were few in his life that Sirius hated more than his mother.
"Sirius—"
"I can't stand much more of this, Remus. You used to be fun. You used to ground us in reality, not in detention. I mean, we can't even Manage Mischief with you around anymore. This is Snivellus we're talking about here."
"The only reason you don't like Severus is because James doesn't. The only reason James dislikes Severus is because he's jealous of he and Lily's friendship! Attacking Snape just harms his chances—besides, I think it's unjustly cruel. Lily is Severus' only true friend, and you hate him simply because of that."
"Merlin Moony! Get off your high Hippogryph and remember that you used to prank along with us!"
"Yeah, but then I had to grow up, Sirius. I had to clean up after you lot. You think I like cleaning up after you? You think I like playing mother hen? Just because I'm mature and like to use my bloody moral compass once in a blue moon doesn't make me less of a friend!" Remus shouted, his voice echoing off the deserted hallways. Distantly, the werewolf could hear cheering fans.
"We never asked you to be our bloody nanny, Remus. At least every full moon you loosen up," Sirius snapped.
Ice trickled down Remus' spine as he whipped his head around – he'd started to walk towards McGonagall's office – glancing unbelievingly at his shaggier companion. It wasn't fair that such a simple reference could get his goat that badly. With a horribly loud gasp, Remus could feel a disastrous betraying tear sliding down his cheeks.
"Ah… Remus-"
"No, Sirius. I get it. The moody Prefect werewolf is getting to be a bit much. It's alright. It's natural, really. Purebreds aren't meant with mix with mutts," Remus grumbled, his voice so void of anything that he was actually scaring himself. Before he could ramble on further, Remus left, walking slowly and collected until he turned the corner, and ran helter-skelter up the stairs.
The Quidditch game went rather well.
At least, it sounded like it had gone rather well.
From his position, sitting with his knees pulled to his chest upon his bed, curtain pulled closed around him, Remus could hear raucous cheering and some sort of song being sung rather badly down in the Common Room.
He'd have to go down there, and soon, whether or not he liked it. McGonagall hadn't been happy about James' little stunt, and he knew that she'd call him, Sirius and Severus into her office before the evening was over.
A smell of burning wafted into Remus' nostrils, and the werewolf knew that he really did have to go downstairs now, because if the Common Room got burnt to ashes with him sitting calmly upstairs as he waited to die of smoke inhalation, McGonagall wouldn't be pleased.
With a low grunt and the popping of a few joints, Remus slid out of his bed and pushed back the curtains before he ventured closer to the door, throwing it open as he threw back his shoulders, working to pull himself together.
He felt rather like a wallowing girl, to be perfectly honest. Sirius had never been one to be careful with his words, and Remus' Lycanthropy had always been a touchy subject, but, by the same token, Remus had never felt so wounded by a simple statement.
As he rounded the last bend in the stairs, the cheers of nearly the entire Gryffindor house accosted Remus' ears. James- who must have gone to the Hospital Wing -along with the rest of the team, was clearly recounting the tale for what must have been the millionth time. Every girl in the room seemed to be swooning in a circle around the players- although Remus smugly noticed that Lily Evans was lacking from the throws of celebration.
The burning smells seemed to be emanating from a group of 3rd Years, who had somehow procured some variation of Firewhiskey, which seemed to grant one the ability to breathe fire. Remus quickly strode over and confiscated the bottle, with nary a noise from the offended party. For better or for worse, most of Gryffindor knew to respect Remus when it came to his Prefectly duties, even though he kept it no secret that he was a part of the greatest prankster group to ever grace Hogwarts.
As he continued his way around the perimeter of the Common Room, Remus suddenly found that Peter was walking alongside him, shoving Chocolate Frogs and Bertie's Beans into his mouth in large, sloppy handfuls.
"I take it we won the match, then?" Remus-half shouted, amiably, towards his portlier companion.
"We had the lead on 'em from the get-go," Peter yelled back, the din of laughter becoming nearly deafening. "James said he was just 'waiting for the right time' to bag the Snitch."
Remus rolled his eyes at James' arrogant behavior. There was a reason Lily Evans held very little interest in him.
"Where's Sirius?" Remus asked as they neared the staircase. It hadn't been the topmost question on his list, but he was beginning to wonder.
"He's still miffed over the whole Snape thing," Peter shrugged half-heartedly, glancing apologetically at Remus. "Probably ran off to wallow with a pretty bird."
Remus rubbed absentmindedly at his chest, surveying the room with empty eyes, his feet on autopilot. Despite he and Sirius' vast differences, Remus was quick to admit that the Black heir was his only close friend. James was Sirius' best friend, comrade, and fellow prankster. Remus and Sirius had a much less brotherly relationship; they had always played off each other well. Sirius had never been truly scared when Remus had openly admitted to being afflicted with Lycanthropy, while Remus hadn't been one to judge Sirius based on his family's values. (In all honesty, Remus had barely known anything about the Black family, aside from their wealth and fame, which his father had once mentioned in passing).
It would have been true to state that without Sirius, Remus was rather on his own. James would probably still be angry at Remus, although James was never good at staying mad with anyone, aside from Snape, so Remus was fairly sure he wouldn't be in too much of a bind. Peter was always cordial to all the marauders, even though Sirius had never been one to hide his loathing for the portly teen. While Remus was comforted that Pettigrew was staying neutral in this entire ordeal, he'd never bonded with the other boy as well as he had with Sirius, or even James, and thus wasn't too thrilled at the prospect of having only he or James to talk to.
Presently, the Prefect realized that he'd made a full circle, and Peter was prattling on about some sort of Herbology topic about which Remus didn't really care, to be perfectly, coarsely honest. He was exhausted, and was fairly certain he had a Transfiguration exam tomorrow, and he'd been trying hard to study, but he had a feeling his mind would wander rather horribly tomorrow.
"Sorry, Pete, but I'm really beat," Remus interjected, glad to see that Peter was not angry; rather, he looked achingly sympathetic.
"Alright, mate," the boy paused, opening his mouth and holding it open for a moment, awkwardly, before he finally spoke, "An' don't worry about Sirius, okay, Rem? I think you were right smart to punish him. He tends to act like a spoiled, rotten brat sometimes, and someone has to reign him in."
Remus smiled weakly; Peter's words did little to cheer him, but the sentiment was greatly appreciated. With a small wave, Remus retreated into the boy's dormitory. Truthfully, Remus had never wanted to take care of Sirius. He'd never wanted to take care of any of his friends; he dearly missed the days when he could be carefree and do pranks. The lycanthropy had begun to take a toll, though, and Remus was growing more and more exhausted in the wake of each moon, and becoming a Prefect was a good way to keep in his teachers' good graces. From the start, he'd never featured prominently in the Marauder's pranks, mostly because he got enough attention being best mates with James and Sirius, but also because he didn't want to be surrounded by attention and people.
Sirius and James thrived in attention. Remus, who was shy and quiet by nature and necessity, tended to make a grand fool of himself when he got under the spotlight, and thusly avoided it.
James, the forerunner of Marauding, created reasons for people to look at him. Hence, pranks. He'd always been the treasure in his parent's eyes, as he was their only child, and a son to boot. There was a class-clown air about him, although that jovial innocence and desire to be liked had quickly morphed in a large ego and slightly vicious streak, which was beginning to worry Remus, if he were to be honest.
Sirius, on the other hand, very much demanded attention. It had been scandal enough that a Black heir –first born and all that- had been sorted into Gryffindor, causing students to gravitate towards this mysterious anomaly. His regal upbringing made him carry himself with a refined posture, dressed in brand-new robes and silk button-up shirts, and the girls threw themselves at him. He didn't try for attention; really… it just seemed to appear in the space around him. He didn't need the acceptance, as much as James did – well, no, that wasn't quiet true.
Remus paused at the foot of his bed, where he'd been folding and putting away laundry in his trunk. That wasn't very true at all, when he thought about it; the two were simply different.
James needed attention, because he'd been raised on it. There was no other way of life for him. People had always loved him and fawned over him at home, so he had to be sure that here at school, everyone else did the same.
However, for Sirius, no one had ever fawned over him. From a young age, his family had treated him with cold indifference. Sirius pegged it up to them being utter arseholes- Remus, eternally optimistic about people, liked to think that it was simply the way that old, rich wizarding families knew to raise their children. Whatever the case, Sirius did need the attention, but it wasn't his lifeblood, as it was James'. The attention made him feel good, made him feel loved and accepted, and he desperately needed to have his loveless years of life made up for.
Downstairs, there was a particularly violent cheer, and then the air grew sharply still and silent, before a tiny knock sounded on the door to Remus' dorm.
Intrigued, Remus rolled off of his bed and opened the door, barely startled by the sight of a little bird, clear and seemingly made of goblet-crystal.
"Mr. Lupin, your presence is requested in my office immediately," the bird chirped in McGonagall's voice. "I already informed Potter and Black. Oh, watch out- this will loose it's shape in a moment, please catch it."
Remus started at the sudden shift, as the bird suddenly shrunk in on itself and became a crystal tumbler. Before he could so much as make the leap from Oh, Merlin, the cup plummeted to the floor and shattered into tiny glistening pieces.
"Bugger all," Remus muttered, before he withdrew his wand and cast a hasty reparo.
If only all problems were so easily fixed, he thought absently as he tucked the once-again-whole glass into his pocket.
What Sirius had said to Remus had been unforgivable, he knew that now- they'd been angry, and said things they didn't mean. They'd said some important things, however, and Sirius was currently trying to think of a way to apologize for being an utter git, and yet not take back some of his comments… in a friendly way. He knew that Remus would understand – Remus always understood – but he wasn't too keen on the whole conversation.
"Mr. Black,"
Sirius jolted back to attention, flicking his eyes up out of the roaring fireplace and unto McGonagall's face.
"Yes, ma'am?" His voice was silk smooth and honey sweet, but McGonagall wasn't a novice when it came to Sirius Black.
"We were just discussing how to best punish you boys for what you did to poor Severus."
"Poor Severus? Professor-"
"I know he threw the first hex, Black. And I may have been willing to let it slide with a simple lecture, but then you had to throw the returning spell. All that aside, you and Potter really must stop this antagonizing of Severus. Dumbledore, Slughorn, the majority of the staff and I have been very lenient with you lot and your pranks, but we have to draw the line somewhere."
She paused for a moment and fixed them all with a stern frown, before turning and smiling dazzlingly at Remus.
"I understand that it must have made you unpopular, Lupin, but myself and Slughorn are appreciative that you were willing to put your duties and morals above your 'mates' for a moment."
Sirius glared openly across at Remus, who was sitting on the other side of McGonagall's desk, as if he were a bloody professor at Hogwarts. James, for his part, seemed rather unphased… then again, he had had a lot of Butterbeer, so Sirius said a silent prayer that he wasn't running his mouth.
"You two shall serve detention for a week with Slughorn, and are not allowed to pull any pranks – in his class or otherwise – until that detention is over. If it makes you feel any better, Severus is serving detention in my care."
"Give 'im a good run, 'Gonagall," James piped up, but Sirius quickly jabbed an elbow into the other boy's ribs, effectively silencing him.
"…Yes, well. I believe I'll let you go, as you seemed to be the life of that party." Her voice was heavy with scorn, although a very small smile was playing at the corner of her mouth. Sirius hauled James to his feet and pushed him towards the exit, turning back once through the doorway in time to catch Remus handing some sort of crystal goblet over to McGonagall. Odd. Must be some sort of Prefect thing.