Remus had been right again. At that exact moment Severus was leaving a taunting note with a first year Gryffindor to give to the Marauders. The first year was running to give it to the Marauders who, though not eldest, were most defiantly in charge of everything.
The knock was loud in the silent room. James and Peter were asleep. Sirius had been the one to suggest coming up, but once there he just couldn't get to sleep. He was worried for Remus. He looked really shaken up when he left and Sirius had already vowed to kick the little Slytherin's ass, both for not being good enough and for causing Remus worry anyway.
Sirius sat and stared at the stars, loving the peace found in the abyss. The moon seemed to be teasing his already frazzled nerves. When the knock shook through the room he was to the door before the hand was withdrawn.
"What?" Sirius snapped. The young ones were always afraid of Sirius Black. It was a fact that upset Remus so he was working on trying to avoid it. Remus was upset enough. Every time he would tell Remus he was trying to avoid it James would say something like "there is no try." Sirius still didn't get it.
"Um…Mr. Black?" the first year looked green, ready to pass out. Sirius loved what he could do to them with just a look. He loved that they called him Mr. Black. He did realize that if the kid passed out he wouldn't know who sent him so he chose to do what was most likely to get him the most information.
"What is it?" he asked as nicely as was possible for him. The first year held out a note and actually swayed a little. Inside Sirius was laughing but he knew if the boy fell Remus would think Sirius pushed him. Hell, the boy might think Sirius pushed him. Sirius caught the boy and held him. He needn't worry about his reputation because the boy was unconscious and his friends were all asleep. He placed the note on his bed and cursed the fact that Remus wasn't there to see him being a great person.
He walked down the steps to the first years dorm room. There was one bed empty and he set the kid down on the bed and left.
Once back in his own room he woke James by jumping on his bed, on him. He opened the note while James woke Peter.
The note was on Slytherin stationary. "Its another declaration of war," stated James, cockily flipping his hair, only able to see green.
Sirius turned green upon reading the note. Not a declaration of war from the pussies. He never liked Slytherins but he was shaking in fear and revulsion.
James' breath caught at the look on Sirius' face. "What does it say, Siri?" Sirius handed the note over to James, stretching over the gap so he wouldn't have to leave his bed. He curled up on his side fighting the urges to run and kill.
Marauders,
Do you know where your book worm is?
He's been gone how long? Death is
Instantaneous, pain isn't. I last saw
Him crying. Have fun.
Worst wishes.
"Its so overly dramatic only a Slytherin could be responsible." That was peter brilliant conjecture.
Sirius was freaking out. "No shit Sherlock." He was glaring and fingering his wand. "Only Slytherins hate us enough. Only Slytherins have the balls, or lack of balls , to write that note. Only the fairy princesses of Slytherin house would be so into theatrics that they'd write that note. And now the power hungry fucks have Remus." He was just rocking back and forth on his bed, thinking out loud. "As if Remus doesn't have enough shit. He's a werewolf with self-esteem issues and feels bad for Slytherins. He is the most fucked up person I know. And they took him." Sirius would have kept going. He had more ranting left in him. He stopped once he felt James' hand on his shoulder. Why was he this worried about Remus? He was always the strongest and smartest of the Marauders. Why did he calm when James took action?
"Calm Sirius, Remus would want us to think first and act after thinking it through. He probably wasn't taken in the first place. He's too damn smart for any jack-ass Slytherins to catch. " At this Sirius truly related, Remus was brave and a good wizard. He was a genius and wouldn't get aught in the first place.
Peter couldn't leave well enough alone. "Well then where the fuck is he? He isn't here. Or can I just not see him? Can you see him?" Peter never back sassed any of them. Something was off with him recently.
"He's just taking a bath you ass." Sirius wasn't going to listen to the little shit any longer, he was close enough o snapping with just his brain working against him. He didn't need to fight Peter's dilapidation too. "He always takes a bath when he has a rough day. With you around its amazing he bothers to come back. He'll be back soon." Sirius was back to almost sane. Peter wanted to say something so Sirius ended any dispute. "We will go to sleep and if, I say if, he isn't here when we wake up in the morning we'll storm the Slytherin gates."
Both James and Sirius were confused. It seemed that Peter wanted to start a fight with Slytherin. They shared a look that let them both know the other saw the drastic change and saw it as an issue. Neither had a clue why he wanted to start a fight but it wasn't right, and they both knew it.
The lights went out again and Sirius pictured Remus in the prefects bath, not to be perverted but just to know he was safe.
Which is where he was.
The bathroom was a dream. It was built of the same stone as the rest of the school, and yet the stone in the rest of it paled in comparison. They were warmer, almost glowing. It was like the school chose to make the rooms better for their best children. It was large, filled with a swimming pool sized tub. In the corner was a large spigot, or several. It actual looked similar to a pipe organ. They flowed from the top down. Each held some concoction or another. There where different scents and different colors.
The windows showed pictures of important historical events or memorable places on the grounds. They moved just like the paintings, although most displayed inanimate objects so weren't as good at conversation.
The room was absolutely stunning, especially once Remus lit the candles that were placed in-between all the niches and windows. This was done with his wand, and left the room filled with a warm glow, accentuating the tile and windows. With the light shinning through them the lotions and soaps looked like gems and cast rays of light all around the room like diamonds. The walls were alight with both the natural glow and the refracted light.
Remus always had to close his eyes for the first couple of minutes in the bathroom. Bathrooms were rough for him, but the extravagance made it easier to forget that this is a bathroom just as his worst memory is in a bathroom. It was able to remain separate.
He flicked his wand and set the proper potions to flowing. It always stunned him how a tub this size could be filled with water in a minute. Magic certainly made life easier. The steam was already filling this place, adding another layer of beauty to this place. This place transcended the laws Remus set for himself. He slowly came out of his shell when he stepped into this room. Symbolically speaking it was ironic. As he thought this he was running his hands down his body to the bottom of his shirt. He liked to make this a spectacle, it helped him feel himself in his own skin. He pulled the shirt off with slow, languid motions. He had discovered long ago that if he intended to accept the scars of his transformation he had to accept himself. He had come along way and now he could stand and look at his well defined chest and focus on how strong and cut he was instead of the myriad of feathery light scars scattered over the muscles.
He slid his pants and bowers off, relishing in the freedom it provided. He loved the feeling of the steam as it surrounded his body, like a hug from a loved one. As much as he knew he was cared for, he did need more physical affection than he got and found it in a long bath and a lovely book. Another flick of his wand and the water had stopped. Bubbles filled the tub. His nose, more powerful than most, was assaulted with his favorite mix of scents. The majority was rosemary, earthy and piney. An undercurrent of mint, fresh and clean. It was unified by a low amber aroma. He loved this, like the woods, like a woodsman. Like a werewolf.
The steam was nice, but once his toe hit the water it was magical. He felt like he could dive in, which in the end he did. He loved this. He could swim in his bubble bath. He never worried about how girly it was to like bubble baths. He was a marauder. No one criticized them except each other. If Sirius or James had decided to give him a hard time he could play the werewolf card. It helped his aching wolfish joints.
The only thing they could say to 'My joints hurt,' is 'You had joints and aren't sharing?' In a world filled with them he needn't worry about anything. They helped him. They shared everything in their little group. He loved the feeling of being needed. He loved the way they always looked to him like he meant something. He still couldn't look at himself and always know he mattered.
He went belly up like in the middle of the Black lake. He couldn't help but think about everyone he had to take care of. Just today he was dizzy from everything. He had woken, as always, to his soft alarm. It had been well before sun rise and he had decided that a run was more important than extra personal Charms practice. He was always the top and had already been doing this spell with the marauders for years. It was just to make things disappear. He ran whenever he could. He didn't need to lose the weight but he needed the break. It was his release. One of a few. He liked this one because he could immerse himself in the woody, musky smells of the forest. He could become the perfected him. He was just his feet that hit the trail. He wasn't the brains of the quartet or the werewolf of the Gryffindors. He wasn't Dumbledore's pity case. He was Remus.
After that he returned to his dorm. He shed his shorts and slid into a pair of trousers and his shirt for the school uniforms. He loved the fact he didn't have to pick out outfits he was terrible with fashion. By the time he was dressed the sun still was just barely stirring in its eastern den. The dark navy blue sky was being lightened with a pale yellow causing striations in the inky expanse. He needed to setup for their morning study session. It always included the marauders but other lions frequented this session with the best.
The common room was empty save a dozing second year. He laid the supplies on the table and a quill and inkpot so he could make minor corrections to the already corrected and revised drafts. He always went over assignments at least twice to ensure effort from his friends. They tended to try more when they had multiple low stress deadlines to meet. He did this for many of the students in his tower and a few Hufflepuffs. They ran to him when they didn't understand an assignment or a concept. He had one Ravenclaw that he helped in DADA because it was the lowest grade and heaven forbid they not get top of the class. He had a light load today compared to many. He went over three separate years in DADA and two in Transfiguration. He had all the sixth years gather around and show him their disappearing spell and then helped specifically with the problem cases like Peter and Frank Longbottom.
At breakfast he was not so discreetly handed two Hufflepuff essays to look over one final time. With that and the Ravenclaw's panic attack over the upcoming DADA practical test Remus didn't eat any breakfast. No one ever seemed to notice that though, to busy trying to get what they needed.
Remus dunked his head to bellow the water level to clear it of its angry sentiment. He had no problem helping them. If he minded he should have told them. It was his own fault he never got breakfast.
During History of Magic he took detailed notes so that all of his disciples could copy and subsequently study later on. He had gotten threw Defense without any problems, his Ravenclaw holding together and doing the second best in the class. All of the classes were separated into two houses except for advanced potions so Defense didn't include one prime snaky, snarky bastard.
He had been doing fine, really. At lunch he had gotten a plate full of whatever had been served while going over potions likely to come should there be a pop quiz. He had told the Ravenclaw to meet him by the lake tomorrow just after dinner time. She would invariably be early and so he would most likely not get a sit down meal, to save her the effort of dragging him off to the lake during his dinner. But once in the potions room things had gone bad.
This wasn't the worst Sirius had done. Instead of eating a full dinner he had discussed Sirius' behavior with him. Sirius was a tough case to crack mostly because he refused to admit how much his psychotic bitch of a mother had fucked him up. Regulus was already lost to her brain washing, had been doomed the second that the hat put him in Slytherin. With no one to show him the light he ended up with the same warped opinions as his crazy mother had always had. Sirius had recently left, (read as ran away from), the terrible environment and gone to stay with James. Sirius wouldn't need to worry though because Remus watched him. He was kept close.
After a discussion he had gone to eat and then to the dorm to discus the horrors that awaited them. Remus truly didn't mind because this way he could help Severus get better. Snape hadn't started to look better but he acted worse, sadder and even more vicious when provoked. This would be his excuse to get to know the Slytherin who needed so much. He could also use Sirius as a reason to reach out to at risk Malfoy, who unlike Snape, wasn't bullied and felt himself entitled to it all.
He had then gone to the lake. Another of his many outs. He was planning his strategy for Peter, who had taken a turn for the worse in recent weeks and needed a boost of both confidence and morals.
Once the sun had set on this day he went to the library to help all of wizard-kind and then to two bathrooms consecutively. But as he lay and pondered he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched. Like someone was out to get him in his bathroom, again.
"It is not really there. Bathrooms are safe places." At least that's what he was telling himself. The warm water and the bubbles and the scent weren't helping anymore. He just wanted to be back with the guys, even if they were asleep.
He got out to dry off, craving a soft bed and his few hours of sleep before it began a new. The bed clothes he had brought where light cotton shorts and a tank top the cover all of bad scars. Only faint, bramble appearing scars coated his arms. Well, except for the horrid cords of scar tissue that followed his veins. How had no one noticed before? He was so messed up that if he were watching himself he'd be checking his wrists everyday. He checked Sirius and Peter everyday. He checked Snape and Malfoy when possible, usually magically in the cafeteria. An injury identifying spell that can tell and injury up to two days after in occurs and tell the nature of the injury. Pomfrey had liked the concept of Remus helping in the hospital, which he did whenever possible.
He was almost all the way out of the door when he say a flash of billowing black cape. When he blinked and looked again there was nothing. He was either being trailed by someone under a cloaking device or his lack of sleep and food were catching up to him. He continued towards his true home, but pulled out his wand just in case.
The halls were dark and the paintings asleep so he went without wand light, using his years of prowling these halls to his advantage. When he reached the Fat Lady, he said kindly "If you would see fit to allow me entrance, even so late after curfew, I would be so very grateful."
She had seemed frazzled by the polite tone until her eyesight cleared and revealed one of the prefects. "You either abandoned those boys on their prank or were out for a bath. I will let you in ether way, just tell me, is it a good one?" She liked to know about he pranks before the rest of the school.
"It was a bath. Sorry, no first hand gossip this time. Fizzled Newts." As disappointed as she looked she still swung open. The gap was more difficult to manage. Remus felt rather tired-drunk and slipped halfway in. It would have hurt but he didn't fall. He would swear he felt a hand on his ass to help him in, but when he looked he saw nothing but the portrait slowly swinging shut. He was either followed or severely over worked.
The other marauders would like to know this, but Remus felt there was no need to worry them when the stalker, if there even was one, was helping Remus.
Sirius heard Remus on the stairs and sat up, smiling broadly when he walked in the door. He had really been upset by those Slytherins until Remus had been back with the only real family either of them had ever known. One cold, one supposedly dead, these four were brothers, Peter less so than the rest. They all pretended it wasn't so but James and Remus and Sirius had been there for each other and had made Hogwarts, as well as this dorm in specific, feel like home for Sirius.