James was struggling. All his life he had been told about werewolves and how evil they were, that they would attack without a second thought, that they didn't deserve to use magic or have a wand and that the only way to deal with them was to exterminate or lock them up; yet here was his friend, a kind and brilliant boy who was a werewolf. He didn't see how Remus could be something so evil and yet he was so didn't that mean that somewhere inside Remus was a killer and was waiting until he could attack them? James didn't want to have anything to do with what Peter called "keeping the monster in its place", for one thing the "monster" was his friend and though he knew what he had been taught he didn't want to be a part of it until Remus actually did something that was evil or attacked either him, Sirius or even Peter. Although James refused to be a part of it, he did not stop or even object to whatever Peter did…he simply couldn't bring himself to be a part of tormenting his used to be friend.
Sirius was altogether different, he didn't approve of what Peter was doing and he refused to be anywhere near Peter. While he was hurt and upset that Remus hadn't trusted him enough to tell him that he was a werewolf, he didn't think that Remus deserved this even though he was a dark creature; however Sirius didn't particularly want to do anything to help Remus either. He had always liked Remus more than Peter, for one thing Peter was slow and was more of an annoyance than anything else, for another thing Remus was smart…and he came up with many of their better prank ideas while Peter had yet to think up anything even remotely fun. Sirius spent as much time as possible away from both Peter and Remus, he and James didn't talk about pranks so much anymore…it seemed wrong somehow and yet they wanted to pull one to prove to themselves and possibly each other that nothing had changed.
Over the past few days Remus had been feeling progressively worse, true he had been given food and water but there was something wrong and painful that was more than the bruises and possible fractures…something inside was wrong. Everything hurt, he was stiff and it was taking him longer than usual to walk to class, McGonagall was not going to be happy if he was late again but he really couldn't help it; neither could he help the stares which he received from the other students as well as the teachers that he passed in the halls or when in class. He hadn't spoken in weeks, he had done all of Peter's homework as well as his own, he hadn't raised his hand or called attention to himself in anyway in his classes and he was scared…he jumped at small noises and he was often found huddled in a corner of the dorm; for Peter liked to appear out of nowhere and either trip him so he fell to the ground where Peter could kick him or he would cast the stinging hex on multiple parts of Remus's body.
Remus quietly opened the door and slipped silently into the classroom where he sat at the back, took out his book and wand, placed them on the desk next to his parchment and quill and sat silently while Professor McGonagall taught them about transfiguring rabbits into slippers. Although Remus did the spell perfectly on the first try he kept his head down and didn't call attention to himself, simply waiting and listening as McGonagall praised James and then Lily for their slippers. After class he gathered his things and started the slow and arduous journey back to the common room, dragging his feet as he went to the place which he had once been able to call home, a place he had thought he belonged and now knew he didn't and never would. His hand clutched at his stomach, trying to stop the feeling of the fire that was there, so he wasn't paying attention when someone grabbed him from behind and pushed him down a deserted corridor and into an empty classroom. Once the hands let go of him he crouched down, his eyes wide with terror as he searched the dark room for the person or people who had grabbed him, his wild eyes finally stopping on two shadowy figures who were watching him with a mixture of horror and pity. It must have been a trick, Peter had found someone to help him and now they were going to "have fun" with him where no one else could see, and yet they didn't move or even speak. Remus was unsure how to react, his arms went protectively around his chest and he lowered his head as he waited for whoever they were to speak or come closer and hurt him.
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