Hi everyone! I'm soooooooo soooooooooo sorry for it being such a long time between posts. I don't handle stress very well so when someone broke my driver's window in my 2-month-old car and stole the airbag from my steering wheel, I was a bit thrown and couldn't concentrate very well. As a result, I more or less forgot about updating. *hangs head* I hope you can all forgive me and continue to enjoy the story. Thanks so much for the reviews!
Word of warning: this is not a happy part
I Was Worried
"Hey, Sirius," Toby, one of my coworkers, called from behind me as I grabbed my jacket and prepared to go home. "A few of us are heading over to the Grinning Goblin for a late dinner, wanna join us?"
The Grinning Goblin. A combination of anger and disgust settled in the bottom of my stomach. "No, thanks," I smiled, struggling to keep the annoyance out of my voice. Toby, after all, was just being nice. He had no way of knowing that I'd developed an intense dislike for that particular restaurant. "I managed to find a couple minutes to eat and I'm not hungry," I lied easily, despite the fact that I felt as if there was a hole in my stomach.
Toby frowned and gave me an odd look, obviously having picked up some of the irritation in my response. "You don't like the restaurant?" he asked.
"Um…not really. The food's all right, I just…" I wasn't sure what to say, since I couldn't exactly explain it to him.
"It's not 'cause of that lyco, is it?" he grinned. "They don't let him out into the main restaurant – I've just seen him cleaning the loo."
It took all my strength of will to resist the urge to either punch him or pick something up and break it over his head. 'Lyco' was an extremely offensive term for a werewolf, presumably taken from 'lycanthrope'. I'd never heard it until the last couple years at Hogwarts but it seemed to be coming into increasing popularity.
Even before I responded I knew it was a mistake to give into my anger but I couldn't help it. "Yes," I seethed, "Actually it has everything to do with the werewolf they have working there. They treat him like he's not human and I will not support an establishment that does that."
Toby was completely taken aback. "They don't treat him so bad. I mean, what are they supposed to do? Have him wait tables? Besides, it's better than his kind should expect."
Punching him would not be worth the trouble it would cause but it would have done wonders for my mood. What was wrong with people? How could they be so blind and ignorant? "His kind?" I repeated. "Werewolves are nothing more than people who've been infected with a sickness that we probably could have cured or at least made more bearable if we cared enough to try."
Toby looked completely flabbergasted and didn't know what to say.
Taking advantage of his hesitation, I bid him a curt goodnight and Apparated to James' parents' house, where my friend was staying until the wedding. Although we were both pretty busy with our respective jobs we still made a point of seeing each other a couple times a week. Tonight we'd decided to go out and have dinner. We'd invited Remus to join us but he was working all of the time now and never had any free time.
"Hey," James greeted me with a smile and a friendly slap to the shoulder. "How's it going?"
Sighing, I threw my jacket on his bed. "Hi."
"What's wrong?" he asked, brow furrowing.
"I just– I had a disagreement with someone at work, that's all."
"Right." He clearly knew there was more to it but had learned not to press and I appreciated him for it. "Well, I'm starving, so where do you want to go for dinner?"
Dinner. "I don't care." Anywhere but the Grinning Goblin.
"How about one of the places close to the Ministry? I've been wanting to try the G–"
I grimaced, not believing my luck, but smiled a little when James gave me an odd look and finished. "The Golden Spoon."
"Oh. I thought–" Never mind. It didn't matter. I was just frustrated. "Okay, that's fine. I haven't been there but I've heard they have good food. Do you mind if we Apparate to the park and then walk the rest of the way? I need to clear my head."
James shook his head, "No problem, mate."
As it turned out, Apparating to the park was a bad idea. I'd failed to take into consideration that from there we'd have to pass the Grinning Goblin to get to the Golden Spoon. Even though it was buzzing with people and I hurried our pace, I couldn't avoid seeing the arched entranceway of the large statue of a goblin that'd been enchanted to change facial expressions.
I couldn't help but wonder what they had Remus doing right now. It pained me to think of him cleaning lavatories while wizards with a tenth of his education were employed at the Ministry, not two blocks away. I'd only discovered that he worked there by accident and most of the time I wished I hadn't.
The subsection of the Ministry department that I worked in was a small, friendly group. We always went out to celebrate each other's birthdays. A couple of weeks ago one of my coworkers had turned twenty-five and he had asked that we take him to the Grinning Goblin.
After lunch I had excused myself to use the bathroom. The sight that had greeted me upon entering had caused me to stop so abruptly that the door had hit my back as it shut with a dull thud behind me. Remus. Remus, dressed in the pale green outfit the restaurant workers wore and cleaning a toilet by hand because the Ministry strictly regulated the use of magic by employees doing menial work. It was because the people who were hired for these jobs typically had not graduated from any magic school and it was safer to restrict their use of magic on the job than risk them botching the spells. But to see Remus doing that had been like a blow to my stomach. Was this the reason he'd studied so hard for the NEWTs? Was this his reward for ranking third in our graduating class?
Not wanting to be confronted with his embarrassment at my finding him like that, I'd quietly left the lavatory without using it. When I'd returned to my coworkers I'd been so distracted, so melancholy, that even they, they who barely knew me, noticed my change in mood. They'd questioned me, asked me what was wrong, but I hadn't said anything. The rest of the day had been a useless, trivial blur of sound and color.
Was that what my friend had to look forward to? A lifetime of working as nothing more than someone who scrubbed grime from urinals? Was he supposed to clean muddy floors until he was graying and wrinkled, his body broken from years of brutal transformations and unforgiving labor? How could this be what seven years at Hogwarts had led him to? How could this be what our world had led him to? And why didn't anyone care?
What had happened that night when Remus returned from work had made me feel worse. I'd left as quietly as I possibly could but he had obviously seen me because he'd still been dressed in his restaurant uniform. He'd never come home in it before. Hesitantly, I'd met his gaze as he dropped his things on the floor and stood facing me. There'd been such shame in the seemingly endless pools of green sadness that it'd practically leapt across the distance that separated us.
"It's not as bad as you think," he'd assured me. "The owners are really very nice. It's just while I find a better job." I hadn't known if he'd been lying to me or himself but a coldness clutched my body when I realized that Remus didn't really believe he'd ever find a 'better' job. "I-I need the money and…they are kind." I'd wanted to close my eyes at his faltering, at the pleading that was evident in his tone. His desperate need to defend himself had left me full of such bitter sorrow. Had he truly thought I'd think badly of him because of what he was doing?
"You don't have to justify this to me, Remus," I'd responded, voice low and sad.
We hadn't spoken another word until we had breakfast together the next morning but the look in his eyes had stayed with me for a long time. No one who had gone through everything Remus had gone through should have felt so humiliated for doing something he felt he had to do to survive.
In the weeks that had followed I'd often thought of his insistence that his bosses were 'nice' and 'kind'. I couldn't help but wonder that if that was true, why didn't they let him work the counter? Why didn't they let him wait tables? Why did they keep their werewolf as hidden away as possible? Why didn't they pay him minimum wage and overtime, despite the fact that the law did not demand it of them? Why did it seem like that job was breaking his spirit one excruciating piece at a time? Why did he look wearier every time he returned from it?
I'd seen him walk, with quiet fear and unhappy acceptance, toward a fate that some cruel twist of chance and destiny had seen fit to make him endure, month after month. I'd watched him struggle with the painful inevitability of his curse and the toll it took on his body. I'd seen the scars and fatigue, the way his eyes would fly open, pale and frantic, when he awoke from a nightmare that he could not control or forget. I'd listened as he'd tried to understand the hatred of those who feared and made life so difficult for him. I'd stared helplessly when he'd asked me why, why people had to be that way. But I had never seen him look as defeated and tired as he did when returning from another long day at work.
"Sirius?"
"Huh? What?" I asked, forcing myself back to the present and to James, who was looking at me expectantly.
"Do we want to sit outside or inside?" he questioned slowly, giving me the impression he'd already asked several times.
Outside or inside? I looked around. We were inside the Golden Spoon and a hostess was waiting to seat us. She was clearly annoyed by the delay. I hadn't even noticed that we'd arrived.
I shrugged. "It doesn't matter."
"Inside then," James said and I caught the apologetic smile he gave as she turned and led us to a table near the back of the restaurant.
Once we were seated and looking at our menus, I made a conscious effort to forget about what had happened at work and not think about Remus and his job. James deserved my full attention and I didn't want to be in a bad mood all evening. Besides, it wasn't as if this was something new. Things had always been difficult for Remus.
It was nearly nine o'clock by the time I finished up at the Ministry and made it back home. It was silent in the flat but I was used to that. Remus hardly ever spent time here anymore. I missed him. Between our busy schedules – though he worked much longer and harder hours than I did – we barely saw one another. I sighed. Sometimes it would have been nice to return and not find the place deserted. It was beginning to feel like I didn't even have a flatmate.
Tiredly I headed to my bedroom to pull off my shoes and change into more comfortable clothes. It had been a long day of endless paperwork and I was stiff from sitting for stretches of hours at a time. After splashing cold water onto my face in the loo and freshening up a bit, I realized I was hungry. Meandering my way down the hallway that separated the bedrooms from the living room and kitchen, I frowned when I thought I heard something. Before I could decide whether my mind was playing tricks on me the crash of shattering glass hastened my footsteps.
Perhaps he was home after all.
"Remus?" I called, faltering as I entered the kitchen to the smell of liquor and urine and stopping completely when I saw my friend sitting at the table, an open bottle of firewhiskey in his hand and the broken pieces of another covering the floor.
He was silently and morosely staring at the bottle he held, eyes despondent, fathomless, and virtually unblinking. At first I was too dumbfounded for words or even thoughts. It took me a seemingly endless amount of time to consciously realize that Remus had been and still was drinking because…Remus simply didn't do that. He disapproved of it intensely, sent James and I reproving glares when he knew we'd had even a little, and had often mentioned his inability to understand why people got drunk.
"Remus?" I whispered, forcing myself to move so that I was standing opposite his position at the table. "What happened?" I couldn't conjure a situation that would lead him to drink, at least not one that didn't involve someone switching glasses and tricking him into it.
Slowly, Remus lifted his head and looked at me. I got the impression he hadn't registered my presence until then. "I don't know if I can take it anymore, Sirius. I don't know if I can do this," he confessed miserably, the bottle of firewhiskey swaying slightly in his grip, the reek of alcohol reaching my nose as soon as his lips parted.
"Take what?" I breathed, leaning forward and watching him from across the table.
His eyes drifted shut. "Them. People. I try. I work so hard. I do. I swear I do. And I'm quiet and I never say anything to them or draw attention to myself but it doesn't matter." Now that he'd started, the words tumbled out unsteadily and with a hint of growing desperation. "They're supposed to leave me tips for cleaning the lavatories but most of them don't. Or if they do they drop the coins into the toilet, expecting me to pull them out. They don't greet me or thank me. I either don't exist or am there to insult and sneer at.
"A little boy came in once while I was cleaning and his mum followed a few moments later, pulling him out like she was afraid I'd attack him. So many people see that I've just finished cleaning and make a mess just so that I'll have to do everything all over again." He shook his head and took a sip of the firewhiskey, grimacing as he swallowed.
"I clean the whole restaurant, you know," he nodded at me, "Not just the lavatories. Sometimes the cooks are still there when I start in the kitchen. One of them saw me enter and dumped a pot of leftover stew on the floor instead of throwing it away. He walked through it, tracking the food all over the place and stared at me as he left, this taunting look in his eyes."
I tried to swallow but my throat was dry. He'd never told me things were so difficult at work. No wonder he always looked physically and emotionally drained when he returned. "But…how do they know?" I remembered Toby from the Ministry. He hadn't called Remus by name and probably wouldn't even if he knew it but he was aware there was a 'lyco' working there. I hadn't wondered at the time, I'm been too angry, but it was strange that it hadn't occurred to me since then.
His eyes drifted open and I saw the raw pain in them. "Don't you know? Didn't you see when you ate there? Just like I have to disclose my status when I apply for a job, my employers have to inform their patrons that they have a werewolf working on the premises. That's why no one'll hire me. They're afraid it'll scare off business."
No. No, I hadn't known, hadn't noticed when I'd eaten there.
"I don't wear a tag but they know. They see my scars and they know. And word spreads. Everyone knows who I am if they eat or work there. I thought it wouldn't be so bad," he laughed bitterly. "I thought I could stand it. I've gone through so much worse but this is never ending, and it's everyday, and I never get so much as a friendly look. And I can't bear that children are pulled away from me, that they're scared. I can't take it, Sirius!" he yelled suddenly, "It's too bloody hard!"
It was only then, after hearing the distraught anger in his raised voice, that it dawned on me that he was drunk. Completely. Because I hadn't noticed that the bottle in his hand was halfway empty, hadn't thought about the fact that there was no firewhiskey on the floor, just glass. I hadn't put it together in my head that there'd been half a bottle left in the one James had given me – the one Remus had surely accidentally knocked off the table – and that he had drunk it all.
He obviously wasn't like James and I when we were drunk – we tended to be overly hyper, talkative, and all around foolish – but the liquor had affected him. It was more difficult to pinpoint how but it seemed to have made things worse. It was as if it had taken everything he had been feeling and intensified it.
"Do you know what someone did to me today?" he continued loudly, urgently. "I was scrubbing a urinal and this man he–" the strength of his emotion seemed to make him choke on the words, causing him to break off and then take another sip, shaking his head. "I wasn't watching him… I wasn't watching…" his tone dropped until it was practically a whisper but when he continued it was at a shout. "I just felt the warmth, the heat, flowing down my neck and the smell…it seemed to suffocate me. The filth was all over me and I was so shocked I didn't do anything but I could hear him laughing, just laughing and laughing!"
My hands clenched into fists and I slammed one of them down against the table without meaning to. The pain ran up my arm but I barely felt it. I just… How much more could possibly happen to him? How much more would he have to live through? Why didn't this ever end? And Merlin, what kind of twisted, inhuman person would do that? If the man who had subjected him to that had been there, I would have made him pay. I would have hurt him. In that moment, with the anger boiling in my ears and blood, I would have beaten him into unconsciousness.
"He fucking pissed all over me!" it was an enraged and humiliated shout that sounded almost primal to my ears.
Remus' uncharacteristically harsh language and his fowl description of what had been done to him made me cringe. When I opened my eyes, I found him watching me.
"I just want it to stop. I want it to stop," he went back to murmuring. "I thought this would make it stop," he gestured morosely toward the bottle that he still held in his right hand. "Why do people do this if it doesn't make it better?" he asked pitifully.
I shook my head, not knowing what to say. Instead, I reached forward and gently pulled the firewhiskey from his hand. He didn't resist. Instead he made a lurching and failed attempt to stand. At first I thought he'd simply fallen but when I saw him crouching, facing the floor, and shaking slightly, I suspected he was sick to his stomach. Moments later I heard wracking coughs and heaving gasps and knew he was vomiting.
Setting the bottle down, I quickly knelt next to him, being careful to avoid any broken glass. Placing my hand in his hair and stroking it gently, I took note of how some of the dark blond locks were stuck together and how his clothes smelled of urine. He hadn't taken them off or even cleaned them. He'd just returned to our flat and fallen apart.
Shortly after he stopped trembling, I guided him back to his seat at the table. Within minutes, I found the detoxification potion I'd made a few months ago and urged him to drink it all, which he did wordlessly and without protest. When it began to take effect, rendering him drowsy due to the amount I'd given him, I led him to his bedroom and helped him change into his nightclothes. Then I told him to go to sleep.
I was poised to leave the room when his sleepy but plaintive voice stopped me with a question hat I couldn't answer. "What will make it better?"
"I don't know, Remus," I whispered, closing the door behind me and leaving him to rest while the potion cleared his system. It was then, in the thirty seconds it took me to walk from his room to the kitchen, that I felt afraid. I'd been too numb during the entire liquor-induced conversation to feel much of anything but now my chest tightened and my heart ached with fear.
He'd had a bottle of firewhiskey, having never before tasted so much as a sip of beer, wine, or champagne. He could have made himself seriously ill. What would have happened if I'd come home any later? Would he have drunk until he passed out or…worse? Would he be all right now? What would happen when he woke up and was sober again? What would happen when he quit his job? Would he be able to find another? How would he handle the rest of his life being treated this way? Would things ever be better for him?
My eyes swept over the evidence of Remus' despair. The broken glass. The half empty bottle of firewhiskey. The pinkish vomit. The vile combination of liquor and urine. How had this happened? How had he been driven this far? After everything he'd gone through, why had this made him break in a way that truly frightened me?
Would he be all right?
I didn't know and the uncertainty that question left me with was like a cold piece of ice sinking to the pit of my stomach.
Would he be all right?
Mechanically, I pulled out my wand and murmured a powerful cleaning charm. Within seconds, everything save the alcohol that Remus hadn't finished returned to normal. The mess was gone. Even the smell vanished.
What was I supposed to do? He was my friend but I couldn't change the world for him. I could be there during the full moons, listen when he wanted to talk, take care of him if he stumbled, but I couldn't really change anything. And I had no idea how to make this better.
Why couldn't things be different? Why couldn't they just be different!?
Without thinking, I grabbed the bottle of firewhiskey and hurled it against the wall with as much strength as I could muster. It shattered with a sickening crash, littering the floor with glass and sending a stream of reddish-brown liquid down the otherwise white surface.
Damn it!
Sighing, I sunk into the chair Remus had so recently vacated. Lost and helpless, I stayed there staring at the mess I'd made until I lost track of time. At some point I heard Remus come out of his room and take a shower but it wasn't until he hesitantly entered the kitchen that I shook myself from the melancholy stupor of oppressive thoughts that had fallen over me. I did not know what to do to make him feel better but if he wanted to talk I'd listen.
"Be careful of the broken glass," I warned him quietly.
Remus' eyes flickered from the dirty wall to the floor. He seemed confused but did not ask for explanations. Instead, he sat down across from me at the table, focusing intently on his fidgeting hands. I knew immediately that he wanted to say something but didn't know how to begin. The stillness continued for several minutes. Finally, I did my best to help him start. "Are you feeling any better?"
A sigh greeted my inquiry. He smiled sorrowfully. "Yes. Thank you for the detoxification potion. It works very well… I-I never meant for it to go that far. Please believe me."
Of course I believed him. I knew without his saying. "I realize that."
"It was just…so humiliating, Sirius, and after all of the little things I've endured, it was–" He stopped to consider his words. "I never imagined the little things could hurt so much."
Neither had I. Until now. I'd thought about it while he'd been sleeping and thought that maybe I even understood. As a child he'd been confronted with people's capacity for sheer malice when a little boy in elementary school had nearly killed him. At Hogwarts, he had experienced the depths of the Ministry's anti-werewolf legislation when an unregistered werewolf had been executed for unwillingly killing a girl while transformed. Due to a horrible ordeal surrounding the last blue moon, he had realized that what he'd before labeled as evil was but a pale imitation of a darker truth. And while all those things had prepared him for how terrible life as a werewolf could be, they'd prepared him to deal with extremes.
Extremes were painful, and harsh, and incomprehensible, but there was comfort to be derived from knowing they were extremes. The seemingly long months that had passed since graduation had shown him that that was a comfort he could not call upon as a shield against the other countless injustices he'd always known werewolves faced. He'd always known that people didn't have to be evil to be inexplicably heartless. He's always known that people hated him. He'd even faced it. He'd told me himself, had seemed to accept it resignedly.
The difference was that now he was finally confronted with what the world outside of school was like. Now he was experiencing what he'd always known about. And those things that filled the everyday existence of a werewolf, things that had seemed little compared to what he'd already endured, were harder to deal with than he'd ever anticipated. They eroded his spirit because they happened continually. They were things that everyone did. They were countless little barbs that everyday took some of his will to live, that made him look older every time he returned from that dreadful restaurant. They ate at him, gnawed at him, and were inescapable. They weighed down on him in a way he hadn't expected because, quite simply, he hadn't counted on the difference between knowing and feeling.
Yes, he had known how difficult it would be to survive as a werewolf in this world, but knowing hadn't made it any easier to deal with. Knowing hadn't made it any less painful. Because knowing he wouldn't be able to find a good job was different from actually dealing with that reality. Knowing that he had no protection as an employee was different than actually being exploited and forced to work to the point of exhaustion just to make the rent. And knowing people hated him, remembering it from his life before Hogwarts and from specific experiences at Hogwarts, was nothing compared to feeling it again everyday.
In a way I'd probably helped to make it worse for him. His childhood had been filled with incidents that exemplified how much people hated him. It had made him afraid of making friends, afraid that they would turn on him if they discovered the truth. But then he'd come to Hogwarts and I, with James' help, had done my best to draw him out of his protective shell. At first he'd been terrified that we'd find out his secret and hate him just like everyone else but we'd shown him that that wasn't true. We'd shown him we really were his friends, that we really did care, and eventually the memories of that hatred had faded in intensity. Perhaps they'd even faded into something he'd believed he'd never again experience personally. Not on a continual basis. One thing was certain. He'd forgotten the agony of what it was like to always feel loathed.
While I would never make the claim that I knew how he felt, I could at least relate because knowing my friend was a werewolf was different than watching him transform and seeing how excruciating it was. Knowing that life would always be hard for him was nothing compared to the hell of actually witnessing it. Nothing in the world could have prepared me for hearing him tell me about everything he had to go through at work. Nothing in the world could have prepared me for the image of someone urinating on him, or for the image of seeing him drunk, humiliated, and hopeless because of it. And nothing in the world could make me feel better now that I realized all of this.
"I had no idea things were so bad for you at the restaurant." I said it kindly, with no trace of accusation.
"I didn't want you to know," he admitted. "I never wanted you to see me…in that place. I just… Sirius, I'm so ashamed."
I wanted to prompt him to continue but I forced myself to be patient. He didn't need me to rush him. He needed my understanding. He needed someone to listen to him.
"Ashamed of doing the work I do when I know I could do more if… Ashamed that I've let these things get to me…that sometimes I feel like I used to, like I'm a monster…less than human. It'd been so long, Sirius, so long since other people made me feel that. I've always struggled with it, because I remember what I do as a wolf and it's so hard for me to separate that from me and not feel guilty for it. But it's been years since I've let someone else make me feel inhuman for just being the way I am. And I'm so ashamed of how I reacted to what happened today. I don't know what you must think of me…" He was worried I'd hold him in lower regard, that I was disappointed or sickened.
"Remus…" I struggled for words but every one was clumsy and inadequate. "I hate that you work where you do, doing what you do. I hate that you have to endure so much and that it's so hard for you. I'd change it if I could. I'd change it if I knew how. But don't think that I pity you. You have to realize I…respect you. I don't know if I could stand everything you go through…" I choked on the next words but forced myself to utter them. "You're so much stronger than me."
He smiled then, a true smile that lifted some of the sorrow from my mind. "Thank you," he breathed. "It's not true, but I can tell that you believe it."
It wasn't the response that I wanted but I'd accept it. I was still so very worried about him, about how he was handling everything, but I didn't want to bring him back down to the darkness of the place that had driven him to drink. I was beginning to realize that the only way I'd know if he could handle the continual cruelty was to wait and see. And the only thing I could really do was what I'd been trying to do all along. Be there to help any way I could. Even if it was only to listen to him and take care of him after the full moons.
"What will you do now?" I asked in an attempt to shift his attention to other possibilities and away from what had happened today.
He frowned, clearly not understanding.
"I mean, surely you won't go back to the Grinning Goblin. Where will you look for work?" There had to be someone who'd pay him decently to do skilled work that he was well qualified for.
His eyes dropped and he looked unsure. "I'm not going to quit my job, Sirius."
"What?" I demanded with much more force than I intended due to the sheer force of my disbelief.
He fidgeted. "They'll actually pay me to work, Sirius. They're the only ones I've found so far. And do you really think that it'd be any better going somewhere else?"
An immense wave of sadness descended like a heavy, burdensome veil. I finally understood what I had perhaps been denying since before graduation. Remus had changed. No. That wasn't the right word. Remus had lost himself. Yes. That was it. He'd lost himself. The Remus I'd known for seven years at Hogwarts would not have returned to this job. Or, if he had, it would have been with quiet dignity, having used this experience to renew his strength and resolve. The Remus I knew stumbled, of course, sometimes even fell – like today – but always picked himself up and forced himself to learn from the experience. He never would have accepted that this job was the best he could hope for.
While my previous assumptions were correct, Remus was facing the problem of knowing versus feeling, I'd forgotten to take something into consideration. I'd assumed he'd see all of this and realize he had to change his way of dealing with things to survive. He had to do what he'd always done: be stronger because of the obstacles he'd faced. He had to see the wall that seemed impossible to climb and climb it anyway.
"What's happened to you, Remus?" I wondered aloud.
"What?" he inquired, nonplussed.
"What's happened to you?" I repeated, more loudly this time, having come to a decision. I knew he didn't want to argue with me – after everything that had happened today he was just too tried – but I needed to make him see. I needed him to wake up. "After your mum died you just shut down, pretended not to feel or care. I was happy when you finally admitted that it wasn't working, that emptiness was worse than pain and grief but now… It's as if you're feeling everything and letting it overwhelm you. You used to realize that things are different for you, accept it, and do your best anyway."
He looked as if I'd punched him. "What are you saying? I am doing the best that I can. I know I handled today badly but–"
"I'm not talking about getting drunk," I interrupted, despite the fact that I hated hurting him and that my words were doing just that. "How could you think that I'd blame you for that? What you've been through since graduating is awful and if the same had happened to me I–" I shook my head. "I don't know if I would be able to handle it. But you're not me. And it's not in your nature to just accept that this job – this job that makes you completely miserable – is something you have to do. I know that no matter where you go, things are going to be hard and you'll have to deal with people who won't touch you, won't look you in the eye, but that doesn't mean you can't find something beyond an existence of people urinating on you."
He flinched at my words and shook his head. "Sirius, Sirius…please. Don't."
Hearing him begging me to stop saying these things wounded me more than he'd probably ever realize. I knew what he was thinking. He was weary. He was depressed. He needed my support, my acceptance. He needed what I'd been giving him just a few minutes ago. But I couldn't do that anymore. I couldn't let him continue like this. I couldn't let him stay lost.
"The Ministry makes it nearly impossible for you to get a decent job, as does people's bigotry, but you never would have given up before. You told me that you need to pay the rent here because you have to have something normal in your life, you have to know that you can still live despite it all. But you're not doing that, Remus." Why hadn't I seen it before? When he'd told me that? Why had it taken me this long to realize? "You're just existing. You're accepting their rules as if all you can hope for is to be miserable."
"And what I am supposed to do?" he demanded, wounded and disbelieving.
"You're supposed to do what you did at Hogwarts!" I exclaimed. "When all the other headmasters refused to let you in, Dumbledore gave you a chance. You studied hard. You excelled despite what everyone says and thinks. You never let Snape get to you, you never let him bring you down. You struggled and hurt but you overcame it and graduated third in our class. You never just gave up!"
"I'm not giving up now," he insisted. "Why are you doing this?"
"Yes, you are! You are giving up! After seeing what this job has done to you, after falling so low, you're prepared to not make any changes, to just go back and continue this way?" I shook my head. "How is this not giving up?"
He stared at me, silently asking what he'd already said aloud. 'Why are you doing this?'
"Just a few minutes ago you said you were ashamed. Ashamed that you've let people treat you so badly, ashamed that you've let them make you feel like a monster. Now you're ready to simply return to that? To be ashamed for the rest of your life?"
"No," he shook his head. "I wasn't going to– I just–"
"What?" I prompted, ignoring the part of me that just wanted to tell him it was all right, that he'd feel better in the morning and that everything would work out. "What were you going to do to change it? Were you planning to go back and tell the next person who throws their tip in the toilet that they're the inhuman ones? Were you going to look them in the eye and let them see they can't beat you? Or were you just going to keep quiet, keep your head bowed, and try not to let it bother you?"
He didn't answer, but his emerald eyes were filled with distress.
I nodded slowly. "I thought so. You need to get yourself back, Remus. This isn't you. You were never one to just survive. You always overcame everything they threw at you. You accepted the fact that they create barriers in your life but you never accepted the barriers. You succeeded in spite of them. You have to find a way to do that now. Because if you keep doing this, if you keep going to this job and letting everyone break you to pieces, you'll die." I swallowed, feeling a sharp twinge in my chest. "Oh, you'll still be breathing, but they'll be nothing left inside."
My friend bowed his head, looking as if I'd just torn him apart. And in a way I had. But I didn't know what else to do. Hearing him say he was going to go back to work tomorrow had been the plunge of cold water I'd needed. Remus couldn't stay complaisant. He couldn't just stay silent and hope that people would ignore him or that things would change. He couldn't continue this way.
Sighing, I stood up and walked toward the doorway that led to the living room. Placing a hand on his shoulder, I whispered. "Try to understand… I didn't want to hurt you."
Remus never returned to his room that night, not while I was awake and not after I'd gone to sleep. I knew because everything, including the blankets and pillow he'd left in a tangled mess, was exactly the same as when I'd passed it the previous night. I wasn't sure if he'd stayed at the table or if he'd gone somewhere. I only knew that he wasn't in the flat when I woke up, had breakfast, and left for work.
I spent most of the day wondering where he was and if my words had reached him. I wasn't surprised to find the flat empty and still when I arrived that evening but I was disappointed that he didn't get back before I turned in for the night. I wanted to see him, to see how he was doing, but I had to be patient. I had to wait. Still, I left the door to my bedroom open, hoping to hear him come back.
It was nearly three in the morning when I woke up to see light coming from his room. Groggily, I stumbled out of bed so that I could peer out from my door. He was standing in front of his closet, pulling his nightclothes on. Had he just gotten back? Surely he couldn't have been at work all this time. Even they didn't make him stay so late. Was he avoiding me?
Turning around, I returned to my bed and crawled back into it. I couldn't demand any explanations. I had to wait until he was ready. After what I'd said I understood that he probably didn't want to talk. The truth was a hard thing to hear and blunt honesty without a measure of tact was difficult to accept when one wanted understanding and kindness.
"You were right."
I jumped, eyes snapping open, when Remus' voice crept out of the darkness.
Blinking to clear my vision, I saw that he was standing a few feet from my bed, figure silhouetted against the light coming from his own room. His features were masked in shadow. I couldn't see them well enough to judge his emotions but his tone was empty.
"Somewhere along the way I…lost something. I don't know what it was and…I don't know how to get it back but… I'm trying." Something about the way he spoke, the way he whispered those words, told me to stay silent.
I smiled, though. I hadn't been sure he'd consider what I'd said. I hadn't been sure how he'd take it. I'd thought he might deny my accusations and that things would continue much as they had since graduation. I was glad to hear that something from last night still resonated. I wasn't sure how, exactly, he could regain himself. It would be difficult, and probably slow, but it was something. It was better than before.
"I don't think you'll see me much. Please understand. I need to be alone…to sort everything out. I don't know what to do. Maybe soon I will." He paused, "Goodnight, Sirius." He slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him.
"Goodnight, Remus," I murmured, despite the fact that he wouldn't hear me.
It had been a week and a half since Remus had come into my room in the middle of the night to tell me he was trying and that I would barely see him. In spite of the warning, I was worried. I hadn't seen him at all since then. I knew he was spending nights at the flat and coming back to get food during the day, but each night he arrived after I'd gone to bed and each morning he left before I got up.
I had no idea how he was doing and I was beginning to fear that he was more lost now than before. I had no basis for this assumption but… Well, I wanted to see him, if only for a few moments. I needed to talk to him, to see if he was okay. After over seven years of living with him, it was hard to be so cut off, especially when I knew he was struggling.
One day during my lunch break I decided to take a walk. Word had spread about the disagreement between Toby and I and it seemed many of them shared his opinion on werewolves because a lot of my coworkers were now avoiding any unnecessary communication. It was more comfortable for me to be alone than to try and socialize with them.
I wasn't paying attention to where I was going – I just wanted some fresh air – and when I took the time to take note of my surroundings I found myself strolling past the Grinning Goblin. I slowed to a stop. I hadn't meant to come this way but now that I was here I couldn't force myself to keep walking. I had to know. I had to know if he was still here.
It was busy, there were many people waiting to be seated and the employee working at the front counter was taking down the names of the parties that had just walked in. Curiously, I looked around for the notice that Remus had spoken of, the one that warned patrons that there was a werewolf working on the premises. There were a lot of witches and wizards blocking my way but as far as I could tell, there was no such sign. Did that mean…?
"Sir?" I looked up to see that I was next in line. Now that the people in front of me had found seats in the waiting area, my view of the woman and the counter she stood behind was unobstructed. She was elderly, probably in her sixties, and was smiling as she patiently waited for me to answer whatever she'd asked me. I scanned the wall behind her but there was nothing about werewolves there.
"One for lunch?" she inquired kindly.
"Er…no," I hesitated. What should I say? "I was wondering… Is Remus Lupin here today?"
She seemed surprised at my question but her manner was still open and friendly. "The werewolf," she shook his head. "I haven't seen him for almost two weeks. Don't know if he got sacked or if he quit but he's not working here anymore. Thank Merlin for that."
Immediately, I felt angry at her last words but before I could reply, she continued. "Poor dear. I'm amazed he lasted for so many months. I wouldn't have stayed as long as he did. Half the time I thought he'd collapse from exhaustion and the other half I worried he'd collapse from the strain of being treated so cruelly."
My mouth was hanging open by the time she finished. I was speechless. I had forgotten that there were some people who actually cared. Usually it seemed like everyone was blind and narrow minded. It was wonderful to be reminded they weren't. Suddenly, I felt a lightness of spirit I'd been missing for a very long time. How strange that amidst so much worry and uncertainty, such a small show of kindness could have such an impact. I almost wanted to hug her for being so thoughtful.
"Are you all right?"
Grinning, I nodded. "Yes, quite. Thank you…thank you."
Quickly, I turned and left the restaurant, my steps more energetic than before I'd entered. I was entirely unable to explain where Remus was spending his days but my brief encounter with my friend's sympathetic coworker lifted a weight from my heart. I felt suddenly hopeful. Surely, Remus could work everything out. Surely, eventually, he'd be okay again.
I almost came to a complete stop when I entered the kitchen to find Remus sitting at the table, drinking a cup of tea and eating a piece of toast. It'd been two weeks since we'd interacted. "Good morning, Remus," I greeted him warmly, though not entirely without surprise.
"Good morning," he looked up as he replied, readily meeting my gaze.
He wasn't happy, that was apparent. There was something different, though. It took me a few moments to realize what it was. The tired, defeated look I'd grown accustomed to seeing darken his once bright eyes was…gone. And it was amazing how much it changed him. There was still sadness there, turmoil, and great uncertainty, but he was truly alive again. And young. He looked so much younger.
"So… Are you back?"
"Well, I have work in ten minutes but yes…I think you'll be seeing more of me." He slid his fingers around the handle of the mug and brought it to his lips for a short sip. "I'll even be back in time for a late dinner, if you want to wait."
"Of course," I agreed immediately. We hadn't shared a meal together in months.
"There's a little diner close to where my dad lives. I'll be working there temporarily." He smiled. "I've been looking into a lot of jobs. I never told you but… Before, right after we graduated, I applied for jobs that I'd wanted for years. At the Ministry. Jobs that would let me work toward werewolf rights. I was summarily refused. No one would even see me. I… I took it very hard. I felt as if I had no hope of doing anything important."
"So you started trying to find work as an unskilled laborer," I surmised.
"I felt that everything at Hogwarts was a waste. And so I gave up without even realizing it. And now…I don't know how I got here, Sirius. I don't feel like I know myself anymore. I've been in such a dark place." He sighed, pushing his plate of unfinished toast away.
A dark place. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" he repeated. "Sirius, you…made me see the truth. I had stopped trying. Don't apologize. I was so…angry at first. I felt betrayed by you but… If you hadn't said anything, I don't know what would have happened. I owe you…so much. Again."
"No," I shook my head, remembering the last months and how I'd watched Remus slip away without doing anything to stop it. "I…I saw what was happening. Everyday, I saw you come back from work and I saw what it was doing to you. I don't know why it didn't register sooner." If it had, maybe things wouldn't have gotten as bad.
"It doesn't matter. You said something when you had to." He smiled. "Please, Sirius. Don't be sorry."
I nodded. There was no sense in arguing about it. "What will you do, then?"
"I'm not sure. I'll try to find something I enjoy. Maybe when I do, this'll all make sense again. I still feel lost." He glanced at the time. "I should go soon. I want to talk to you about some jobs I've been considering…get your opinion."
"Yeah, sure. Over dinner." I was curious as to where he'd been for the last couple weeks, since I knew he hadn't been at work, but I wouldn't ask and I wasn't sure Remus wanted me to know. Like he said, he'd been in a dark place. What mattered now was that he was finding his way out of it.
"How have you been?" he asked as he collected his plate and mug and stood up.
"Okay. Just the same old routine. Working. Seeing James. It's been quiet." I smiled. "I'm glad you'll be here now."
"I know you went to the Grinning Goblin. I thought something might have come up." He regarded me thoughtfully. Throwing the food into the trash, he turned and placed the plate and mug in the sink.
I frowned. "How did you…?"
"I went in to get my last paycheck yesterday. Marysa told me someone had been there looking for me. You were the only one that ever knew I was there."
"Oh. No, nothing came up." I shrugged. "You told me you weren't going to be around but I hadn't seen you in so long that… I was worried."
"I know. I'm–"
"No," I cut in so firmly that he was clearly taken aback. "Don't say you're sorry. You did what you had to do."
"Yeah," his gaze clouded over. For a few moments he was in a distant place, perhaps remembering whatever he had gone through over the last fortnight. Then, shaking his head, he glanced at the clock again and I smiled. "Go to work, Remus. We'll talk later."
"Have a good day."
"You too," I replied as he Dissapparated.
I smiled. Today was going to be great.