Scars
Theme
#5: Send me the thorns
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The second full moon of sixth year fell during Halloween. Hogwarts had a tradition of making Halloween a fun-filled night, complete with overly festive ghosts and pumpkin juice. It was easy to appreciate the holiday, a welcome reprieve from almost two months of studies. Naturally, after a full two months of studies and narrowly escaping detection for their pranks, James, Sirius, and Peter welcomed the party happily. So happy were they for the festivities, it was nearly halfway through the night before Peter happened to glance out the window and realize, with dread creeping into his heart, that the full moon cast a dreary branch of light from the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. It taunted them from the night sky beyond.
They'd raced down the pathway inside the Whomping Willow as fast as they could, overcome with their shame. They were large now, and navigating through the narrow passage proved troublesome in their haste. Once or twice James' antlers caught on the low ceiling, or Sirius leapt too vigorously and crashed his head against the ceiling, too. They'd run quickly on their four legs, Peter snug between James' antlers, and emerged in the Shrieking Shack after much haste and accidental bumping and collisions.
The three of them didn't know what to expect when they got there. This was the first full moon they'd nearly missed since their original transformation into their animal counterparts. They'd always been there on the full moon to accompany Moony through his lonesome, painful nights. The shack was eerily silent until a strange, inhuman scream pierced the night sky, coming from a room above them.
They were quick to race up the stairs, searching for the screams of a pained werewolf. With minimal effort, the stag and the dog smashed the door inwards, revealing the wolf inside the tattered, Spartan bedroom. They found the werewolf there, screaming loudly and scratching at his body. He howled and snarled at the three new arrivals, but the animals stood their ground. It took fifteen minutes of snarls, scratches, and inflicted wounds on himself and the other animals before the werewolf seemed to calm down and recognize the three animals that'd accompanied him for two years now.
The werewolf growled softly, his eyes searching between the three animals before slinking backwards, bleeding and limping. The wolf stumbled to the corner and fell down on its wounded legs. He stayed there, huddled, staring at the animals. He didn't move. He almost didn't breathe.
The stag stayed close, the rat perched on top of his regal head. The dog tread close to the werewolf, but the wolf was bleeding and whimpering and didn't seem to notice his friends' support. He stayed there, barely breathing, until the moon set and the sun rose.
The three boys had the common courtesy to turn away as Remus transformed back into his human form. With barely a sound, they left the room, the broken, wooden door the only separation between a painful transformation and the mortified friends. They tried to ignore the whimpers and moans of pain as a skeleton reshaped itself to its human form, and the bleeding, oozing wounds dripped painfully. Shamefully, the young boy grabbed his clothing and dressed behind the door, his cheek bleeding and his white uniform shirt soaking into a dark red.
"You should have told us, Moony," James accused when Remus emerged, fully dressed, looking thinner, paler, and sicker than ever before. James spoke hesitantly, looking frightened and worried for his friend.
Remus idly wiped away a trail of blood and shrugged one shoulder. The three boys tried to ignore the small cringe that followed his tiny gesture. He couldn't summon the words to speak.
Peter looked frightened, too. "Will you be okay, Remus?"
"I'll be okay," Remus managed to whisper out. "You should leave. Madame Promfrey will be here soon to take me back to the infirmary."
Sirius looked like he was about to say something, but Remus smiled. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes and his body was tense. Peter choked out a few syllables that could have, at one point, been words. James merely nodded his head, trying to ignore the veil wavering in Remus' eyes, protecting him, even from the people he trusted most.
"I'll be okay," Remus repeated, sounding anything but okay. The smile plastered on his face looked as painful as the bleeding wounds soaking through his uniform shirt.
The three friends went away as instructed, trailing haphazardly down the connecting underground path, on their hands and knees to accommodate the small amount of space. James brushed aside a pebble in the way, Peter moved slowly, and Sirius stared at the ceiling inches from his nose.
"He should have said something," Sirius muttered angrily. Whether he was angry at himself or at Remus was unsure. He blew out a brief stream of hot air, his eyes narrowing at the ground beneath his hands.
"But he didn't," James said. "You know Remus wouldn't."
"He still should have," Sirius protested stubbornly. He clenched his eyes shut for a second, trying to will the look of Remus' hollow smile from his mind's eye.
Peter whimpered. "It seemed extra painful this time."
"Of course it was painful this time!" Sirius said, more angry with himself than for little Peter. "We weren't there to distract him! Without any humans to stalk, all he has to chew on is himself! Of course he's in pain!"
"Quiet, there's the end of the tunnel," James said, situated at the front of the group and able to see the distant light. "There's nothing we can do about that, Padfoot. We'll just have to remember next time."
"That doesn't matter," Sirius muttered angrily as they emerged from the Whomping Willow.
"I see Madam Promfrey in the distance," Peter volunteered, and the three boys slunk behind the tree and took a back route back to the castle.
They walked back in silence.
---
Two days later, Remus wasn't at breakfast.
"He should have been released from the infirmary today," James mused to his oatmeal as he munched dully on a raison. "Maybe he's not hungry today."
Sirius watched the entrance to the Great Hall, waiting for Remus to emerge from the shadows. He sighed and picked at his bacon sadly, wishing that Remus was there. Peter ate his toast in a state of bitter melancholy. It was as if a dark cloud was hanging over the three remaining marauders.
"I'm not hungry, either," Sirius decided as he stood up, shoving his plate of untouched food away with a look of thinly veiled disgust. "I'll go check to see if he's back at the tower."
"See you later. Remember he likes the library," James proclaimed. Remus preferred the solitude of the library when he wanted to be left alone, since it was a rare day when his three friends followed him into the confines of the grand collection of tomes.
"I know," Sirius muttered to himself as he stalked away. He checked the infirmary on the way back to the tower, but Remus wasn't there.
He entered the common room and realized that Remus wasn't there, either. He wasn't in the dorms. It appeared as if he was in the library, after all.
Sirius exited through the portrait hole, on his way to check the library, and then pummel Remus for being in the library on a Saturday. As he passed by the prefect's bathroom, however, he heard a tiny hiss of pain. Stopping in his tracks, Sirius glanced towards the bathroom door, and then heard Moony's distinguishable voice through the door. The boy was muttering to himself, but Sirius had grown accustomed to hearing his friends' voices from beneath James' invisibility cloak to know Moony's voice when he heard it.
"There you are," Sirius mumbled to himself before moving to the door. He tried to remember the password. It changed so frequently. He touched the door handle and guessed, "Newt Tongue."
He heard the lock click. Perfect!
Without pausing to think, Sirius opened the door wide. "Yo, Moony!"
Remus jumped and whipped his head around to stare at Sirius.
Sirius slammed the door shut behind him as he entered like he had countless times before, much to Remus' annoyance ("You're not a prefect, Sirius.") whenever he learned of Sirius' quest to a forbidden bathroom. As Sirius adapted to the shift in light he realized too late that Remus was only half-dressed. Standing before him, holding his crinkled, freshly laundered shirt, stood Remus. His hair was wet and his towel lay benignly on the floor. Sirius stared openly at Remus' exposed chest, having never seen Remus without all his clothes in place before.
Remus stared at him in shock before ducking his head and finishing buttoning his pants. His profiled face was bright red, and one of his eyes still fashioned the final remains of what might have been a black eye. He didn't dare lift his gaze and, instead, focused solely on his pale, skinny fingertips. Sirius somehow couldn't pull his eyes away from the boy before him.
He was slouching and, in the unforgiving light of the overhanging lamps, Sirius could see, with bitter precision, every scar upon Remus' arms, chest, and back. They crossed over his chest like a sinister masterpiece, some looking fresher and cruller than others.
It was sickening how many scars danced across his skin, leaving disastrous reminders of Remus' condition. Each scar ranged from light and faded to deep and painful. He looked as if he'd run through a field of enormous roses. The thorn marks remained on what would have been a delicate body. But these were the marks of claws, digging, scratching prying into tender flesh.
"Remus," Sirius breathed, rooted to the spot. He realized belatedly that it probably would have been better to leave Remus to his privacy. Or to knock. Or to wait for him in Gryffindor Tower.
Still refusing to meet Sirius' gaze, Remus clutched the shirt in his hands tighter. He wore a tight, disbelieving smile. He turned away from Sirius, exposing the entire plane of his back, decorated with painful scars. Seeing them in all their glory, mere feet away from him, under bright lights, Sirius felt a weave of nausea wash over him as he realized how fresh many of the scars on his back were. Sirius wanted to speak but Remus quickly slipped on his shirt and began buttoning up the buttons. Sirius tried to remember how to breathe.
"I…" Sirius began but the words died in his throat.
Remus finished his task at hand and turned back towards Sirius without meeting his eyes. "It's nothing, Sirius," Remus told his feet. "Just forget it."
He raised his head and Sirius realized that there was a long, deep scar running from his forehead, across the bridge of his nose, and stopping a few centimeters beneath his eye. It was red, irritated, and looked incredibly painful.
"Remus, I…" Sirius tried again, but died a premature death just like the words before.
Remus closed his eyes, the tight smile stretching his skin and making him look years older than he truly was. When he opened his eyes, they were veiled and hidden beneath a thick wall of ice. "Just forget it, Sirius."
But Sirius knew, and suspected that Remus knew too, that he would never be able to forget that sight. He swallowed his words and watched as Remus walked by with some difficulty. His face was bright red and his body was shaking. He'd exposed far more to Sirius than he would have ever wanted to.
---
The next few days after the bathroom incident, Remus avoided Sirius. Remus was up earlier in the mornings, took his shower, ate his breakfast, and was in the classroom reading far before Sirius was even conscious of Remus' absence. During classes, Remus sat next to Peter or James, eased by the safety of two bodies between himself and Sirius. After classes, Remus retreated to the library or went on prefect duties.
"What did you do to him, anyway?" James noted after one particularly boring History of Magic class. Sirius had attempted to speak with Remus, gently touching his shoulder. The following sight would have been hilarious under any other circumstances. As it was, Remus jumped clear out of his skin before quickly darting away.
"I have no idea," Sirius lied. The look on his face clearly showed his misery.
James frowned slightly, before pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Did you insult him or something?
"No," Sirius snapped, growing agitated. "Just leave it, Prongs."
"He might still be upset about Halloween," Peter offered helpfully, watching where Remus had dashed away.
"That doesn't explain why he's still talking to us," James said, with a curious look in his eyes. "Hmm."
"I said just leave it!" Sirius snapped at his two friends before hiking up his book bag and stomping away angrily, his silver eyes more pained than angry. He whipped around the corner before slumping against the wall and pressing his hand against his forehead. "Please talk to me."
Sirius gained his chance a couple days later, when the four boys were in the dormitory. Sirius sat on his bed, fiddling with the feathers poking out of his pillow. Peter was snoozing. James was concocting another one of his love letters to Lily. And Remus was reading. Sirius had tried, and failed, to speak to the boy.
The clock on the wall chimed eight and Remus glanced up. Frowning thoughtfully, he shut his book and set it on his bedside table. Standing, he adjusted his school uniform before heading towards the door.
"Where you going at this hour?" James asked, saying the thing that Sirius wished he could say, but knowing Remus would never answer if he did.
Remus smiled benignly at James. "Bathroom."
"See you later, then," James said with a small wave as Peter snored loudly from his bed. Sirius sat up, trying to seize Remus' gaze. But the young man was already leaving the room, pulling the door shut behind him.
Instantly Sirius was on his feet and rushing towards James, who'd returned to his love letter. "Let me borrow the invisibility cloak."
"How come?" James asked innocently, though they both knew what Sirius planned to do.
"You know why," Sirius said, not even waiting for James' answer before snagging the cloak from under James' mattress and pulling it on. He was out the door in seconds and in the common room in just enough time for Remus to go through the portrait hole. He was quick to follow.
He padded behind Remus as the boy headed towards the prefect's bathroom. The prefect tapped the door handle expertly and muttered, "Dragon swill."
Sirius slipped through the door as it fell shut behind Remus. They stood together alone in the prefect's bathroom. Sirius stood, rooted to the spot as before, and watched Remus, with almost a bitter expectancy for the scars.
But Remus only stood for a long moment, his face clenched in pain and a hand grasping the hair above his forehead. He sighed feebly before shutting his eyes tightly. "Damn it."
Sirius stood in the invisibility cloak, watching Remus as he stumbled to the sink and mirror. Remus gripped the sides of the porcelain tub, his head bowed and his shoulders hunched. He remained still for a moment longer before he lifted his head and stared at himself in the mirror.
The cloaked boy watched in amazement as the werewolf lifted his fingertips and grazed the long, jagged scar across his forehead, over his nose, and under his eye. His face was tight and his golden eyes clenched shut, as if touching the scar pained him.
"Damn it," Remus said again as Sirius took a step forward. "Why did he have to see?"
Sirius' heart clenched at the same moment of surge of anger swirled in his gut. Why did Remus always insist on being so secretive and keeping this from the people who were supposed to be his friends? Didn't he realize that all Sirius wanted to do was to help him? That's what they all wanted. Why couldn't Remus be more honest with them?
Remus breathed slowly before raising his head again and tracing the scar with his eyes. It was still red and painful looking and he blew out a long stream of air, agitated by what he saw.
"I don't want…" Remus began before shaking his head. "Oh, what's the use?"
"Remus…" Sirius said before he could stop himself. He clamped his mouth shut but it was already too late. Remus whirled around and stared at the empty bathroom before him.
His eyes traced the room for a second, and every time the golden eyes passed over him Sirius felt his heart clench. He couldn't even begin to explain what the look in Remus' eyes was. He frowned tensely and took a step forward before crossing his arms over his chest.
"Okay, Sirius, I know you're here," Remus said darkly, looking angrier than Sirius had ever seen him before.
Sirius hesitated for only a moment before removing the cloak from around him. Remus' eyes locked on his instantly, and the golden depths swirled angrily.
"Mind telling me why you were hiding in here?" Remus hissed. "Here to stare at me some more?"
"Remus," Sirius said quickly, "you know I'd never… that's not what I meant."
"Then what are you doing here?"
"I wanted to talk to you!"
"Sneaking into a bathroom without me unaware is your idea of a good way to start a conversation?" Remus asked bitterly. He turned his face away. "Just leave me alone, Sirius. I can't handle this right now."
"I won't," Sirius snapped.
Remus gave him a hopeless expression. "Please, Padfoot."
"I need to talk to you. Stop avoiding me. If you want me to leave… you'll have to hex me out," Sirius said after a short pause. Remus gave him another helpless expression before sighing and turning his back away from Sirius and staring at himself in the mirror, his eyes instantly going to the scar on his face.
"I didn't want you to see."
"Too bad, I did. It's not so bad, Moony."
"Not so bad?" Remus snapped and Sirius realized instantly that he'd made a mistake. "Not so bad? You think that these scars… these proofs of a demonic creature inside me, things that cannot be erased because of the magnitude of dark magic… isn't… so… bad?"
"I meant that—"
"I don't care what you meant. Leave me alone!" Remus started to walk away, intending to lock himself in a bathroom stall until Sirius went away.
Sirius dove forward and grabbed the werewolf's wrist. Beneath him were criss-crosses of scars and it made Sirius sick to think about all the pain Remus must have gone through his entire life, with every transformation alone leading to a plethora of scars.
"Don't you trust us?" Sirius demanded, feeling hurt.
Remus' eyes were wide. "I d-do. But… I just… you couldn't…"
"Why did you hide it from us, then?" Sirius shouted, his silver eyes wide in his pain. "Why do you always insist on doing things yourself? Aren't we your friends? Don't you trust us?"
"Why do you think I hid it, Sirius?" Remus shouted, his face a bright red and looking pained. "I can't… there are enough reminders of my condition. I don't need more of your pity! I don't need more of your… of your…"
"Remus, we would never pity you," Sirius whispered. "We're all proud of you. Even with your condition, you're able to stand on your own and take care of yourself. You're—"
"Stop it, please," Remus begged, squeezing his eyes shut.
"I won't," Sirius promised. Remus flinched as Sirius' hold on Remus' wrist tightened. "We would never pity you, Remus. Why would you even think that?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Remus muttered sadly.
"Huh?"
"I don't have anything that's truly mine!" Remus cried. "Not even my life is mine. I don't even have control of my life. My life is ruled by the moon, and I will never have control over it."
"You have us. You have me," Sirius insisted, grabbing Remus' other wrist and pressing him against the wall, staring at him earnestly. Remus seemed to attempt to push himself off the wall, but Sirius prevented him with his larger bulk.
"I don't have you," Remus persisted. "I don't even have myself."
"Shut up," Sirius said, visibly upset. He looked as pained as Remus had when looking in the mirror and touching his scar. "Just shut up, Remus."
Remus clenched his eyes shut and turned his face away. Sirius released one wrist and Remus was quick to attempt to shove Sirius off. The taller, heavier boy refused to budge and, instead, lifted his finger tips and touched Remus' forehead, over the beginnings of the jagged scar. Remus flinched.
"Don't," Remus begged, his eyes still clenched shut.
"You have me," Sirius repeated, his fingertips gliding over the red scar. "You've always had me."
Remus opened his eyes for a moment, the molten gold orbs staring at Sirius in disbelief. The fingertips moved over his nose and under his eye. Remus closed them again, remaining blind to the look in Sirius' own eyes.
"They're only scars, Remus," Sirius said. "That's all."
"How can you say that?" Remus said, but there was no venom, no displeasure in his voice. Sirius' hands cupped his cheek, the thumb brushing over the corner of the scar beneath his right eye.
"Let me see," Sirius said instead of answering. He released Remus' other hand and touched the collar of his shirt. Remus tensed and his eyes flew open as Sirius' fingers fiddled with the top button.
"Wait…" Remus said, his eyes fearful. Sirius stepped away from the wall and Remus found himself following him.
"Let me see," Sirius repeated. Slowly, Sirius removed Remus' shirt. It fell at his feet and Remus, looking terrified, stared up at him, awaiting his next move. Waiting.
And slowly, ever so tenderly, Sirius reached out a hand. His rough fingertips smoothed over Remus' scarred, uneven skin. His fingers followed the paths of the scars, committing each one to memory. Remus stared at him in poorly masked shock.
Sirius could feel his pounding pulse under his fingertips, but he didn't care. He saw the way Remus' cheeks turned pink, but he didn't care. He saw the way those eyes stared at him, singing for him, but he didn't care. These scars were his, too, now.
Sirius wanted to say something, but no words would come. Perhaps he didn't need to speak.
As his second hand started tracing another scar, Remus' eyes softened and his face melted. Very slowly, as if afraid to move, Remus' eyes fell shut and the tiniest of smiles traced across his lips. Sirius took this as a good sign and took a step closer, tucking Remus' head beneath his chin as his hands found his back and the criss-cross of scars along the pale skin he found there.
You don't need to hide from me, he wanted to say. You've always had me to rely on.
But the words didn't come, so Sirius conveyed his words through his touches, tenderly moving across Remus' back and arms. He heard Remus sigh and felt the lips on his neck extend into a peaceful smile. He felt hands on his hips, holding him close, beckoning him closer.
Sirius heard Remus' silent words. Don't leave me. Stay.
And he responded. I'll always be here.
His fingertips traced the scars lovingly, feeling the smooth bumps and dips of tortured skin. He found his own eyes falling shut, no longer seeing the bitter reminders of lonely nights and, instead, simply feeling the emotions dancing between fingertips and skin. He breathed in deep and he felt Remus respond in kind, the hands on his hips responding in a deep need, a deep longing.
A hand cupped Remus' cheek again, a thumb brushing the newest scar. Remus' face outshone the sun, the tiny smile upturning his lips, and his eyes softened by Sirius' comfort. Hesitantly, Remus raised a hand, and the pale, scarred hand overlapped Sirius' larger hand, sending sparks of warmth coursing through Sirius' body.
Remus' eyes were closed again and he sighed gently, his body no longer tensed, but, rather, at perfect ease. The fingers touching his spoke louder than any words Remus could have said, and Sirius responded by a small sigh of his own, and by gently leaning his head forward so their foreheads touched.
His hands cupped Remus' reddened cheeks, lifting it skyward towards his own eager eyes. Silver eyes softened as he observed the softened expressions of a soothed human. Remus' eyes fluttered for half a second before they fell shut, his lips parted slightly with a silent greeting, a silent beckoning.
And Sirius dipped his head and kissed Remus, shattering the wall of separation between them and sucking out a bit of Remus' soul through their enclosed lips. And yet, somehow, it didn't seem quite as intimidate as it should have, somehow the moment between them, with fingertips grazing uncharted territory, outshined the simplest of human affection. But it was perfect. And no words were spoken. Their lips did the talking. Their fingers did the whispering. Their hearts did the singing.
Sirius pulled away and silver eyes met golden eyes. They stayed, frozen, for one long moment before Remus ducked his head, the smallest of disbelieving chuckles escaping his bruised lips. He shook his head and moved his hands from Sirius' hips, searching the long expanse of perfect skin and wrapping around a slim neck. Sirius' eyes never wavered.
Remus squeezed, keeping him close, drawing their bodies ever closer. Sirius' moistened lips quirked upwards into a tiny smile, his silver eyes crinkling at the corners. A breath of air rushed between parted lips, sharing a moment of intimate silence.
Words were not needed. There was nothing left unsaid.