DISCLAIMER: i own nothing. jk rowling owns everything. any language used in this fic is not meant to offend anyone so please don't hate me.
MR. PLEASANT:
Sick. Remus Lupin felt sick. Revolted, if you wanted to be accurate, but who was looking for accuracy at this time of the morning? It was taking all of his efforts to restrain his stomach from emptying its contents right there in the dormitory, on his bed. He was, after all, feigning sleep so no one would suspect, or expect, anything of him.
He felt weak, as if his muscles could barely manage the effort of his light breathing, which itself was quite painful due to his severely bruised ribs. There was pain elsewhere but he was not thinking about it. He was avoiding any thought on the subject of that pain.
He felt tears clumping his dark eyelashes but his eyelids remained still. Never had he felt so low in his life. The actual feeling was complete and despairing emptiness. He didn't know what to do and wouldn't allow his mind to wander, knowing where it would inevitably land.
A groan sounded from somewhere in Peter's direction and was followed by a small rustling of bed sheets as Peter turned over in his sleep. Remus shut his eyelids tighter against the violent red glow that told him it was morning. He didn't want to get up, ever again. He didn't want to exist any longer. He wanted to disappear into the bedcovers and never be found. For the first time in his difficult life, Remus truly felt that he wanted to give up.
He didn't want this anymore: this life. Why should he have to suffer so much when his friends could go through life completely unharmed and unfazed by the events of their own lives? But that wasn't true, either. Okay, so there was James who, even when doing something completely irresponsible, could still possess a charming and carefree air that would get him out of any strife. He had loving parents, came from a good home and was incredibly well-liked by the majority of the Hogwarts population. He was always happy.
Peter was certainly well-loved by his family, perhaps a little too much, but was certainly not ruined by it. He had a fierce loyalty about him that could certainly do him no wrong. And he had friends who cared about him. He certainly seemed to be very happy.
But then there was Sirius; shunned by his terrible family, and brought up in a world he had no relation with. He had suffered terrible verbal and physical abuse, and from an early age, and had had to make the choice between his own values and his family's support. But even Sirius seemed destined for happiness and fortune. He was, like James, well-loved by Hogwarts and held talent in abundance. He and James had the strongest friendship that Remus could ever imagine. Nothing could break it.
So this left Remus the half-breed. Remus the pathetic, Remus the weakling, Remus the monster. And what did he have to offer to the world? Absolutely nothing. Oh, unless you count a vicious, life-threatening monster once a month? He could certainly provide that.
"Sirius, mate, can I talk to you? You know, before Pete and Rem wake up?" James whispered over to Sirius. The two had risen earlier than was their norm in lieu of the tense fog which had burdened all four of them, albeit discreetly, yesterday. Peter and Remus remained apparently blissfully unaware of this most unnatural of occurances. Surely, had either of them been awake, a heart attack would have been imminent over the sight – James and Sirius, up and dressed, before breakfast was even laying on the tables of the Great Hall.
"What's up, mate?" Sirius raised his eyebrows questioningly at the use of his real name.
"It's about Remus," James began as they walked down the steps away from the dormitories.
"What about him?"
"Didn't you notice him acting really strange yesterday, like, I dunno, like he was trying to hide something?" James watched Sirius' reaction carefully.
"Yeah, I guess. Hey, maybe it's just the full moon tomorrow."
"Could be, but last night I woke up really early and in strolled Moony, and he had definitely been with a girl –"
"Rem, with a girl?" Sirius interrupted, incredulous.
"Yeah, but that's not the weirdest part. See, he took a very long shower and when he came back he was, well, he was crying..." James petered off, unsure what else to say. He looked at Sirius hesitantly, awaiting his response.
"Crying? But Moony never cries," Sirius said.
"I know, but Moony also doesn't get with girls, especially not without telling us."
"Maybe he's been dating her in secret. Maybe he doesn't want us to know that he's dating someone, because he thinks we wouldn't approve. Which could mean only one thing, really. Moony is dating a Slytherin," Sirius concluded, his words own laced with a hint of the betrayal usually bestowed on such an act. Clearly, Sirius was concerned.
"So why was he crying, then?"
"Ah, because – because she broke up with him? Must have had his heart broken, the poor guy," Sirius said with uncharacteristic sympathy.
"I don't know, mate. Why would Moony date a Slytherin? That's just wrong!"
"Hey, not all Slytherins are bad, look at my Uncle Alphie!" Sirius flinched half a second after this declaration, surprised to hear himself defending the name of Salazar Slytherin.
"Did you just defend a Slytherin?" James looked at him in horror. Sirius straightened in his spine in an act of haughty defence.
"I'm just saying, not all of them are that bad. My Uncle Alphie was in Slytherin, and so is Andy."
James stared at him, thinking hard.
"Well I suppose it would explain why he hasn't told us. Should we leave it to him to come to us?"
"I doubt he will, but if they're broken up now, there's no use in bringing it up and upsetting him again, is there?" Sirius spoke with diplomacy.
"What's gotten into you? I'm normally the one who makes sense, you're the foolhardy one!" James laughed. Sirius grinned back.
"I don't know, maybe the idea of our placid pal in emotional turmoil has softened me up a bit."
Remus lifted himself slowly up to rest on his elbows, contemplating the hideous thought of getting up. He didn't see the point anymore, not after – just not anymore. His body ached for sleep but he refused to give in to the temptation. There was little temptation there, anyway. He was far too scared of what he might find if he really closed his eyes.
He had remained 'asleep' as he heard each of his friends making their slow recovery from the world of dreams and only after all three of them had left the dormitory had he even opened his eyes.
Now that he was alone, the way he liked it, he could truly contemplate what he was going to do. He didn't want to be here anymore, at Hogwarts. He had been kidding himself for four years to think he had deserved to come here. He realised now that that was a lie. Another lie in the web his family had cocooned him in his whole life. He hated lying but he really hated being lied to. That was more than he could bear.
Knowing he really couldn't prolong it any further, and against his better judgement, Remus did get up. He took an ice cold shower which he relished in the pain it caused to his sore muscles. The shower took a very long time, what with him needing to scrub every part of him at least five times so he could get the stench of him off his skin. But even though his skin was red and enflamed, he could still smell him, and feel him. He closed his mind to it, knowing he shouldn't be thinking about it.
And then he got dressed, looking severely dishevelled through his lack of effort, and headed out of the dormitory.
Remus was far too late for breakfast, which he would have had no intention of attending anyway and so he took himself slowly down to the Common Room. He sat in one of the plush armchairs to await his friends' imminent return and he couldn't have looked less enthusiastic about being there if he tried; perched at the edge with a stiff posture and an awkward air.
It was only after what seemed like years that his three friends rejoined him in the suffocating heat of the Common Room. If he thought, however, that the sight of his best friends would cheer him up, he was sorely mistaken. James and Sirius were looking at him with the most peculiar expressions on their all too handsome faces. It was – no, was it sympathy? Remus couldn't take that. He couldn't take sympathy from them.
They had no idea what was going on, did they? How could they?
Looking incredibly flushed and overwhelmed, Remus leapt up from his place on the sofa and before James, Sirius or Peter could utter a greeting to him he was gone, disappearing out of the portrait hole.
James was a little shocked. Remus had just up and left without even saying hello and James knew he had seen them. Maybe he was taking this break up harder than they'd initially thought. He looked warily at Sirius, who seemed to have the same idea, and was setting down the mountain of food they had brought back for Remus on a nearby table.
"So, to Herbology then, lads?" Sirius announced with an unnatural awkwardness. Peter looked at him curiously, as if calculating the possibility that Sirius had not noticed Remus' abrupt exit, or even noticed him at all. But his expression quickly took on its usual gormless appearance as he followed them out of the Common Room, easily accepting that nothing was wrong by a flashy grin from James.
Sirius fingered the letter in his hands, itching to open it. He knew he couldn't, though, as that would be betraying one of his best friend's confidences. But he was terribly curious to know what all these letters to Remus were about, especially after Remus' odd reaction to yesterdays' one. He had initially wondered if the first letter had been from the Ministry, possibly about his 'furry little problem' but he was also certain that the two letters were linked, and since the second was blank except for Remus' name in scrawling handwriting – thus missing the Ministry of Magic emblem – that guess was out.
He was worried about Remus. He knew his nightmares had been growing more frequent and now this thing with some Slytherin girl, but missing lessons? Remus hadn't turned up to Herbology, or double Charms. That simply wasn't like him. Not at all. Now, sitting at lunch next to James, with Peter across from him, Sirius couldn't help but stare blankly at the empty space usually occupied by the conspicuous Remus Lupin.
He had barely touched his pork sausage sandwich, and gingerly took it up into his hands to take a bite. It tasted awful. Not the way it normally tasted. It tasted like cardboard, for some reason. And Sirius knew what cardboard tasted like, after all, his mother had fed him only that for an entire week once when he was nine. He sighed and placed the half eaten sandwich back on its rightful plate. He gave Remus' absence a final check before looking at his best friend.
James was also worried, and had only had two of his usual four helpings of ham and mustard sandwich. If anything, this made Sirius more worried, instead of the reassurance he had hoped he would acquire from his friend. James glanced at him briefly before looking away, as if uncomfortable. Sirius sighed again, feeling very hopeless, and now a little uncomfortable himself.
Sirius turned his attention to the plump boy across from him. Poor, ignorant Peter was only concerned with how much gravy he could fit onto his plate, not the whereabouts of his usually punctual friend. Sirius knew Peter was aware that something was amiss with Remus, but through simple reassurance from James and himself, Peter remained unaware of how serious it was getting.
Sirius knew it was serious because the good student that Remus was didn't even like to miss lessons when he was physically incapacitated to do so after a full moon. And perhaps more worrying, Remus had an enormous appetite – due probably to the wolf – yet today he had already missed two meals. That never happened either. Something was definitely up.
Peter let out a belch, having just consumed his entire goblet of pumpkin juice in ten seconds, causing both Sirius and James to crack up with laughter. The bliss it caused alleviated their concerns for a small time, and for not the first time, Peter was useful at something: breaking tension.
Remus threw himself out of the portrait hole with vehemence. He was thoroughly confused, and thoroughly annoyed. Which just added to his confusion. In truth, he had no idea what to feel and in actual fact, he didn't really feel anything; just a cold numbness that was very slowly making its way through his entire body.
He could barely breathe as he stormed through corridor after corridor, evidently making his way down and out. He needed air. He really, really needed air. Actually there didn't seem to be anything he needed quite so badly in his life.
Just before he reached the enormous doors to the grounds he completely lost control of his breathing. He had been taking huge gasps of air in a hope to clear his irritated head but had ended up virtually hyperventilating. He dashed into the broom closet by the hourglasses, clutching desperately at his chest. He couldn't breathe now; he couldn't get air into his lungs.
Tears were thrust out of the corners of his eyes at the struggle just to take in air. He could feel them racing each other down his cheeks, and running into his hairline, down his ears and pooling together at his jaw line and chin, leaving hot tracks behind them. Fear was constricting his chest like a tight band, clamping his lungs against his dull heart.
His throat had constricted to the width of a pin, meaning the thick gasps of breath he was trying to take were ineffective. This easily sent him into dizzy spells. His eyes glazed over. They weren't being used, not consciously, at least. Remus wasn't seeing. He was, however, feeling. He was feeling what he was so desperately trying to forget. And it just wouldn't go away.
He could feel the hands all over his chest; tracing his scars. He could feel the bony fingers wrapped too tightly around his throat. He could feel the stone wall ripping into his bare skin. He could feel gurgles of refuse easing out of his tight mouth. He could hear the grunts. And he watched. He watched the waxing moon before it blacked out. He let out an agonising scream and felt his head collide with the stone wall of the closet.
In his angst he had forgotten where he was. It had felt so real, but now he was back with reality, his breathing still tight but the feelings gone. He hoped they stayed away.
He propped himself up using his back against the wall. Then his knees gave way and he slid to the sodden floor amongst the damp broom heads. He rasped out a few shaky breaths and felt his head spin dangerously again. No. He wouldn't let it happen again. He wouldn't allow himself to be overcome. He had been used, but that was over.
He let out a gurgle of resentment and self-pity. He felt so useless. So disgusting. Tainted. Used. He kicked out at the door, which groaned in response. Remus nearly apologised to it in his insanity but thought twice.
Eventually his breathing calmed and his pulse returned to its norm. His hands moved from their positions on the floor by his sides to rest on his thighs. He brought his knees close to his chest then pushd them back down, his hands clenching his thin thighs tightly. He let out another gurgle of frustration. His hands snaked their way up to his head, pulling at his hair, causing welcome pain. He pulled harder, and harder still so that his skin felt almost as if it were burning. He yanked out two generous clumps of dark, tawny hair and literally sighed at the relief it brought him. And suddenly he had purpose.
At around eleven o'clock that night, Remus climbed awkwardly into the Gryffindor common room, looking just as dishevelled as when he had stormed out of it that morning. If anything, he looked worse. His eyes were sunken in and his skin was pallid. He hands were fisted tightly, but were held slightly behind him, as if he were trying to hide them. Sirius watched him walk slowly towards himself and James. He watched him sit down on the sofa opposite silently. He watched him fiddle nervously with the skin of his knuckles. And Sirius realised then that his knuckles were red raw, and bleeding slightly. Upon noticing Sirius' attention to his hands, Remus pulled them away into his pockets, not properly looking at him.
"Hi, mate," Sirius said.
"Hi," Remus replied in a small voice, still not looking at him.
Sirius knew now was not the time to ask why Remus had been fighting, he was quite frankly just happy to see him at all. James and he had stayed up to wait for Remus, knowing he would have to come in eventually. Something that seemed more than the Slytherin girl was up with Remus. For now, however, they would be content with having him back.
"You missed a shocker of a Charms lesson, Moons," James smiled at him, but Remus didn't look at him, or bother to respond. He shifted his fisted hands in his pockets instead.
"Ah – you got a letter as well, mate," Sirius told him, holding out the crushed envelope he had been keeping safe since breakfast, "I didn't read it."
Remus finally looked up, an oddly fearful expression on his thin face. Their eyes met briefly before Remus' dropped to Sirius' chin. Remus took the letter quickly, and made an awkward show of opening it without letting them see his hands again.
Apparently startled, Remus dropped the letter, then immediately threw himself onto the floor to pick it up again. He rose to his feet at a similar pace, dusting himself off unnecessarily and began to walk-run away from them. Sirius rose quickly, too, and grabbed Remus' arm. Remus halted and turned around, angry. He glared at Sirius, who only tightened his firm grip.
"What's going on, Moons?" Sirius asked tentatively. Remus continued to glare back, but Sirius saw past it. He could also see Remus' sad eyes, stubborn tears forming. Remus looked away at Sirius' intense stare.
"'m fine," Remus tugged his arm away from Sirius and half ran to the dormitory.
Under the dim light of the sole candle in the bathroom, Remus read the four words before blowing out the candle and wrapping his fingers around his throat.
Enjoy last night, faggot?