Here is chapter three! I couldn't get inspired all week, then all of a sudden when I got home from work at midnight, it hit me; it's now close to 3 a.m. and i have to be at work at 8 tomorrow. It was so worth it.
Anyway, THANK YOU SO MUCH, to all the people who alerted, favorited, and (especially) reviewed! It really means so much to me, and I like to hear what you all think. I get the alerts on my phone when I get a review and I save them all to read at the end of the day; they literally make me smile at my phone like an idiot. It means so much to me that you guys take the time to do that, so thank you.
WARNINGS: physical child abuse, sexual abuse of a parent to a child (nothing really graphic, but there is MINOR groping and some innuendo. The rest is implied), language (a few words people may find offensive, so I thought I'd warn you now), and SLASH
Sorry for the long A/N; I tend to get carried away with them.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters in this story. They belong to J. K. Rowling.
"Remus, stop pacing," Sirius entreated, looking up from the table at his ruffled lover. Remus paused in his pacing to send Sirius a harsh glare before he resumed walking a rut in the floor from the living room to the kitchen.
Sirius sighed and shrugged at Harry, rolling his eyes.
"He seems nervous," Harry raised an eyebrow and commented quietly, so Remus wouldn't hear. Sirius wasn't too concerned; Remus had been so distracted and lost in thought all morning it would be a miracle if he was listening in on them.
"He hasn't seen his brother in a long time," Sirius replied.
Sirius could tell Harry wanted to know more about Romulus. Last night, Remus had sat down across from Harry on the couch and explained softly that he and his brother had had a falling out years ago and didn't talk anymore. He'd shifted uncomfortably when Harry asked what they had fought over.
"It's complicated," Remus had muttered, running his hands through his hair and tugging the dark golden strands with his thin fingers. "We had a…an unconventional childhood, and it…it made it hard for us to have a relationship when we were older."
Sirius had seen the next question on Harry's lips before he asked it and cringed a little bit from where he was leaning in the doorway. "What do you mean, unconventional?"
Remus's expression shifted ever so slightly to conceal the emotions Sirius knew he was feeling and looked down at his hands. His Adam's apple bobbed and he answered Harry quietly, "After my mother died, my father…he was devastated." He smiled bitterly, the edges of his mouth hard. "He started drinking, and he was…he was a violent drunk."
"He hit you?" Harry blurted out, stunned. Remus flinched at the words, not as badly as he used to, but enough so Sirius noticed the sudden jarring of his body. Harry saw it and covered his mouth with his hands, inwardly berating himself for asking so abruptly. "I'm sorry, oh, God, Remus, I didn't mean to just ask that, I just never thought…"
Remus smiled reassuringly and shook his head. "It's not like I just bring it up casually, Harry. You don't have to feel bad." He put an arm around Harry's shoulders and pulled the young boy against his side. Harry pushed his arm between Remus and the back of the couch to hug him around the waist. He rested his head on Remus's shoulder and Remus absentmindedly stroked his wild hair.
"You don't…I mean, I always wondered why you never talked about your family," Harry's voice was hushed and hesitant. "I just thought…"
"Yeah," Remus drew his bottom lip under his teeth. "I know."
Sirius blinked, brought back to the present by a series of sharp raps on the door. Remus jumped, bumping into the small table in the hallway. He managed to catch the toppling vase before he skittered to the doorway. He stood in front of the door for a few moments to collect himself, wringing his hands together and taking deep breaths.
Sirius stood up and sauntered down the hallway towards the front door, leaving Harry at the kitchen table, the boy's eyes flickering from the closed door to his adoptive parents.
Sirius put an arm around Remus's waist and pulled the slim man back against his chest. Remus's hand went to cover Sirius's hand in his hip automatically and he twined his fingers through the bigger man's. Sirius squeezed his fingers reassuringly and reached out with his free hand to open the door.
Harry hadn't been sure what to expect, but he knew, at least, that it wasn't the six foot seven, broad shouldered man who stood on the front stoop. He had the same dusty golden hair as Remus, though his was shaved close to his head, and he beamed at the two men in the doorway, his smile bright and open. Harry had seen Remus smile like that a handful of times; when Harry had brought home a picture of his family from school (a little stick figure Harry was between Remus and Sirius, holding their hands, with two figures labeled "Mommy" and "Daddy" up in the clouds next to the sun); when Sirius had tried to bake a cake for Harry's fifth birthday and the kitchen looked like the pantry had exploded all over it (Sirius had always been horrible at cleaning spells and he'd had been terrified of how Remus would react when he got home. Remus had come home from Diagon Alley, laden with bags of gifts for Harry, stared at the mess for a few moments, and broken out into laughter, kissing Sirius's cheek and pulling a premade cake out of one of his bags); when Sirius had taught Harry how to fly and Remus had stood off to the side, leaning against a tree and watching them.
"Remus," the man said, his voice surprisingly quiet and soft for someone twice the size of a normal human being. "God…wow."
He stepped forward and pulled the surprised man into his arms. Sirius kept a grip on the back of Remus's shirt as he was pulled out of his arms and into his brother's. Remus tensed at first, but relaxed enough to awkwardly slide his arms around his brother's waist loosely.
Romulus held Remus at arm's length and looked him over, smiling widely. "God, Remus, you look…you look great, you look really good."
Remus smiled uncomfortably and tried to subtly wiggle out of Romulus's tight grasp. "Thanks. You…you, too." He successfully shook off Romulus's hands and stepped away, putting some space between them. Sirius reasserted his grip on Remus, wrapping his arm around his waist again and glaring warningly at Romulus.
There was a lull where Romulus was just looking at Remus, not speaking, his eyes flickering over his baby brother evaluatingly. He hadn't seen Remus since he was twenty, during the war. Remus looked a lot healthier, though he was as thin as he'd ever been and there were shadows under his eyes; hazards of being a werewolf, Romulus had learned over the years. There were a few new scars on his exposed forearms and peeking above the collar of his shirt. His hair fell in thick golden locks, curling at the ends, and Romulus recalled how many times he'd held the man standing in front of him when they were kids and run his hands through the distraught boy's soft hair, wiping away his tears and trying to calm him as they listened to their father throw himself at the basement door and scream for them to get out there and take what they deserved.
Remus stepped aside, clearing his throat. "Come in. I…I'll show you where you can stay, we don't really have a lot of space. I hope you don't mind, the extra room is kind of small. It was supposed to be an office, but I haven't had the time to actually organize it. I just transfigured the desk into a bed, if it's not comfortable, you can do what you want to it, I just thought, you know, for spacing…"
"You're rambling, love," Sirius muttered against Remus's temple and pressed his lips to the pale skin. "It's alright, he'll be fine."
Romulus's lip automatically curled at the endearment and the sight of Sirius's lips against the side of his brother's head. He realized what he was doing and schooled his face quickly into a neutral expression. He wasn't going to screw this up. "He's right, Rem, I'll be fine."
Sirius felt Remus's body tense at the nickname. He knew Remus hated begin called that, or any variation of it. His brother was the only one who had ever been allowed to, and that privilege was taken away the second he left Remus at home alone with their abusive father.
"Don't call me that," Remus said firmly, pulling away from Sirius and turning to walk to the kitchen. "I suppose you should meet Harry, if you'll be here for a while."
Romulus blinked at Remus's retreating back, stunned by the sharp reprimand, but followed him into the kitchen without a word.
Harry stood up when they came into the room and put a smile on his face. Remus's brother held out his hand and Harry took it.
"Good to meet you, Harry," Romulus shook the boy's hand.
"You, too," Harry shifted his weight uncomfortably under the bigger man's gaze. He felt like Romulus was studying him, trying to see what he was thinking…his gaze felt like it was penetrating Harry's skull and looking into his mind. He met the man's gaze for a few moments, noting the difference between Romulus's eyes and Remus's; Romulus's were a dark, deep blue in contrast to Remus's light, flecked hazel.
"Remus has always been so proud of you," Romulus went on, letting go of Harry's hand after a moment longer than was normal. "You should have heard the way he went on about you when you first started walking. You said his name first, his nickname, anyway. Moony. It was your first word."
"How do you know that?" Sirius demanded, crossing his arms and leaning on the kitchen wall. "It's not like you were around much for him."
Harry had the distinct feeling that they weren't talking entirely about him, and slid back into his chair quietly. He felt a hand on his shoulder a moment later and glanced at Remus, who smiled reassuringly and rolled his eyes. Harry cracked a small smile.
"I went to Order meetings," Romulus pointed out defensively. "Even if we didn't have heart to heart chats about our lives, I paid attention, I listened to him talk to other people there. It wasn't hard to figure out that he loved this kid, even before you two adopted him."
"He has a name," Remus said sharply, his hand tightening on Harry's shoulder.
Romulus's eyes narrowed inquisitively as he considered his younger brother silently.
Sirius cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the sudden silence and spoke, "I'll show you your room, Romulus. Remus, why don't you go check on the fish? I forgot to feed them this morning."
"We don't have any—," Remus's fingers dug sharply into his shoulder and Harry yelped, turning to give him a look of betrayed confusion.
"I think I will," Remus replied innocently. "Join me, Harry?"
Harry nodded and stood up, rubbing his shoulder.
"Do you mind if I take a look around the grounds?" Romulus asked. "It looks lovely outside, and I have a meeting with my lawyer tomorrow, so I'd like to make use of my free time today. Gorgeous garden out there, Remus."
"Sirius takes care of it," Remus replied. "I've never had a green thumb. You know that."
"I do recall the dead cactus I got you that stayed in our window for seven years because you refused to get rid of it," Romulus grinned. "It's probably still there."
"It's not," Remus said shortly. "I threw it out when I turned fourteen."
Romulus pursed his lips and rubbed his forehead tiredly.
"Rom?" Remus peered into their small bedroom. He could hear his brother moving around; the sound of drawers sliding open, hangers scraping against the wooden rod in the closet as he pushed clothes aside. "What are you doing?"
"Remus," Romulus straightened up where he stood at his bedside, a shirt clutched in his hands and dangling over an open suitcase. "I thought you were asleep on the couch."
"I woke up," Remus watched Romulus suspiciously. Romulus shifted uncomfortably under his brother's scrutiny. "What are you doing?"
"I'm just cleaning…" Romulus lied weakly. "Going through some stuff…"
"You're packing," Remus corrected him abruptly. "Where are you going?"
"I…Rem, sit down," Romulus sighed and motioned to the bed. "C'mon."
"I'd rather stand, thank you," Remus said stiffly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Where are you going?"
Romulus ran his hands through his hair and let out a long breath, trying to find the words to explain himself. "I…I'm staying with a friend for a little while this summer."
"We've only been home a week," Remus pointed out, stepping further into the room and pulling the door shut so their father couldn't hear. The man had passed out about an hour ago and Remus hadn't heard from him since, but who knew when he would wake up again.
"A week too long," Romulus said under his breath, thinking back to a few hours ago.
Remus had tripped over the hall rug and knocked over a picture frame; he was tired and the approaching full moon dulled his reflexes and awareness. It smashed to the floor into large shards. Remus had moved to pick them up before their father could see, praying desperately that the picture hadn't been wrecked (it was of their mother), and been roughly shoved to his knees by an aggressive hand on his back.
John had heard the glass break on the wood floor and pushed his youngest roughly to the floor. Remus caught himself with his hands, but, unfortunately, fell right onto the shards of glass. A few pieces sliced into his hands and wrists, drawing blood that sluggishly ran down his pale skin.
"Pick it up," John snarled. "For God's sake, Remus, do you break everything you touch? I swear to God, if that picture is torn, you'll regret being born."
Remus swallowed hard, pushing down the useless thought that he already did. He didn't have the time or the energy to indulge in self-pity right then. He gingerly plucked the photo from the broken frame, careful to avoid the glass that would slice his hands up even more. The photo wasn't irrevocably damaged, just slightly bent.
John snatched the photo out of Remus's shaking hands and looked it over, carefully bending it back so it was flat again. A small crease remained across the woman's face, slicing through her golden hair and one of her light hazel eyes. She smiled at them warmly and John felt something in his chest stir. He glanced over at Remus, who had pushed himself to his feet and was standing there quietly, as if he thought that if he didn't move, John couldn't see him.
John flicked the photo aside so it drifted to rest on the small table and turned his attention to Remus, who flinched when he felt his father's gaze on him. He shrank back against the wall, trying in vain to make himself smaller.
That made John grin, in an uncomfortably predatory way. Remus had grown in the year he'd been gone at school; he was fourteen, that day was his birthday. He was slim, like his mother had been, but there was something undeniably male in his lightly muscled, lithe frame; John didn't mind, truth be told. He loved his wife (who Remus was practically a carbon copy of), but he also wasn't opposed to the flat planes of a man's body.
He took a few steps forward, effectively pinning Remus to the wall.
Remus tried to push him away, to get some space between them. "Dad, please…"
"You look just like her," John murmured, stroking Remus's soft hair with his rough hands, running his thumb over Remus's cheekbone. "You got her eyes."
"Dad…" Remus muttered, pushing himself back against the wall in an effort to move away, though he knew it was useless; trying to escape hadn't worked for ten years, why would it now?
"You act like you don't want this, Remus," John's voice was right in his ear, his breath ghosting across Remus's skin hotly. He didn't smell like alcohol, and that made it worse. At least when his father was drunk, Remus could blame it on the whiskey. "But be serious. You like it, don't you? You respond…favorably." His hands drifted lower, curling around the waistband of Remus's jeans. Remus's breath hitched as the insistent fingers tugged them lower on his hips. "You take it and squirm under me like a good little slut. Why do you think I chose you, and not your brother, huh?" Remus tensed as the hands probed lower and he was pressed more firmly into the wall. He tried unsuccessfully to block out his father's words. "I can see it in you, babe. I could always tell that you'd be the one who would spread his legs like a good little slut, because you want it so goddamned bad from a man." Remus whimpered and turned his face away, closing his eyes tightly, like that could stop the words from ripping into his heart. "I'm just giving you what you want, sweetheart." Remus felt one of his father's hands move upward to grip his chin tightly and force Remus to look at him. "Open your eyes." Remus complied reluctantly, figuring it was a small thing; he would pick his battles. John smiled at him softly and touched his face. "You're so beautiful, Remus."
He sealed his lips over Remus's, and Remus let his eyes fall shut again as he tried to hold back tears.
Romulus had heard the crash and decided to wait it out. He'd taken a lot for Remus. He'd tried to protect him, and he couldn't, and it was killing him. He had been offered a place to stay for the summer, with one of his best friends from school, and he'd decided at the last minute to go. Remus was fourteen now; it was time he took care of himself. Romulus had paid his dues to this family.
Now, looking at his younger brother, Romulus felt a twinge of guilt. Remus's hands were bandaged and he was shifting uncomfortably as he stood; Romulus didn't want to think about why.
"When will you be back?" Remus asked, pulling Romulus's attention back to the present. Romulus regarded his younger brother; Remus was filling out, strong in an understated way; he had serious eyes, flecked with gold, that made him look older than he was (he'd certainly been through more than the average fourteen year old); and he wore a loose sweater that he tugged at the threadbare sleeves of and jeans that had once been Romulus's, but now fit the younger boy quite nicely. He wasn't a kid any more.
"I can't do this anymore, Remus," Romulus admitted softly. He moved closer to his brother to clasp his biceps tightly. "You have to understand. This is killing me. I can't protect you. I have to get out, I have to leave."
"You think leaving will help?" Remus demanded angrily. "He'll be furious when he finds out."
"I've made up my mind," Romulus said firmly. "I'm almost seventeen. By the time he tries to make me come home, I'll be of age."
"You're leaving me here alone?" Remus asked, his voice suddenly small and scared. He chewed on his thumbnail, his wide desperate eyes watching Romulus pack. "I…Romulus, please, please, don't go, you can't. Or take me with you. Please…"
"I can't," Romulus replied, bracing himself with his arms over his suitcase and taking a deep breath. "He can get you back, you're too young. You'd get hurt; the Ministry isn't really werewolf friendly, you know that. They wouldn't be nice about dragging you back here."
Remus watched his brother wordlessly as he zipped his suitcase, all of his belongings neatly packed inside. Remus's feathery hair fell in thick locks in front of his eyes, hiding them from view. Romulus was glad; he didn't think he could have handled seeing the look of betrayal in them.
He lifted the case and set it on the floor. He reached out to hug Remus. Remus flinched at the touch. "C'mon, Rem. Please."
Romulus pulled Remus into his arms, holding his little brother tightly to him. He didn't want to let go ever; but he had to. He couldn't do any of this anymore. He buried his face in Remus's thick hair and pressed a kiss to the teenager's head. "I love you."
Remus's fingers curled into the front of Romulus's shirt and when Remus spoke, Romulus could feel his brother's breath on his shoulder through the thin fabric. "He'll kill me."
"You're so much stronger than him," Romulus muttered, squeezing his slim body more tightly before letting him go. He gently untangled Remus's fingers from his shirt and leaned down to pick up his case. "I've got to go. I'm meeting Mike in town in ten minutes for a ride."
Remus didn't reply, but swallowed hard. His throat hurt and ached; so did his chest, worse than the rest of his battered body.
Romulus gave Remus a sad, regretful smile. He reached to press a small box into Remus's hand. "Happy Birthday."
And then he was gone.
Remus didn't watch him walk away. He plopped down on the floor, let out a small cry of pain, and tore the newspaper off the box Romulus had given him. He ripped off the lid, tears streaming down his face, barely able to get his hands steady enough to open the box; he didn't want to think about how Romulus was walking away, about how he could still run out there and beg him not to go.
A glint of gold caught Remus's eye when he opened the lid. He dug through the tissue paper and pulled out a long gold chain. A ring was strung on it; the ring was gold, made up of thin strands of gold woven in an intricate design, and had a small red stone set in it. A scrap of paper fluttered to the ground when the tissue paper was disturbed. Remus picked it up and made out the words through the blurriness in his eyes.
REMUS,
THIS WAS MUM'S WEDDING RING. SHE LEFT IT TO ME WHEN SHE DIED TO GIVE TO MY WIFE SOMEDAY. I FIGURE YOU NEED IT MORE THAN I DO NOW, TO REMEMBER THAT DAD WASN'T ALWAYS BAD. SHE LOVED HIM ONCE. SHE LOVED YOU, TOO, AND I LOVE YOU. REMMEBER THAT WHEN YOU LOOK AT THIS. I HOPE IT GIVES YOU STRENGTH.
ROM
Remus's fingers closed around the note, crumpling it into a tiny ball, and he clutched the ring in his hand as he curled up and buried his face in his arms, letting the tears soak through the thick wool of his sweater.
Remus remember that when he'd stopped crying, he'd felt angrier than he'd ever felt in his life, and he'd pitched the small, pathetic plant out the window and watched the pot shatter against the concrete driveway. He'd gotten smacked for that later, but it was worth it.
Romulus turned back to Harry. "Your parents are buried on the property?"
"Yeah," Harry replied, eyebrows drawing together. "Why?"
"I'd heard it through the grapevine," Romulus shrugged, apparently unconcerned. "I just wondered…"
"Yeah, well, I'll show you your room, now," Sirius cut in. "C'mon, it's down this way."
He disappeared down the hallway. Romulus glanced at Remus and followed.
Remus and Harry made their way upstairs, not speaking. Remus perched on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the opposite wall. Harry climbed onto the mattress and scooted closer to Remus.
"He's only here for a little while, right?" Harry said. It was half a question, half a reassurance.
Remus blinked, his eyes clearing, and nodded. "Yes. Not long." He was silent a few moments before he added softly. "He's never really been one to stay anywhere very long."
Thanks for reading!
I haven't decided if I can work Voldemort in, but at the very least, there will be Death Eater trying to bring him back. I don't want to screw with the actual timeline too much.
Please review if you have a second! I appreciate them so much, and I'd love to hear your thoughts!