Archive of Our Own

When Remus wakes up, he’s in a dim room. His body is in immense pain, but nothing worth screaming about. There’s a ringing in one of his ears and the lingering feeling of vomit, if he hasn’t thrown up already, he probably will soon.

The feeling of being sick, slow, and achy hasn’t gone away, but he can’t help but feel cold. He can feel the concrete under his skin, pressed against his legs and arms. He forces himself to sit up a bit with a groan, bracing himself on his elbows. The clothes he’s wearing aren’t his, a T-shirt and shorts the same bone grey colour. His shoes and socks are gone too. 

He looks around, someone is lying under a blanket two meters to his left, their breaths are a bit laboured, in a similar state of duress that he is. He looks around a bit more. There’s a bucket in the corner. Someone’s in a corner a bit to the right, knees curled up to her chest leaning against the wall, asleep while sitting straight up. Her chocolate brown hair frizzy and unkempt, her skin looks hollowed and stretched. She’s not wearing a blanket, but she is wearing the same clothes that Remus is. In the dim light he can see scars slashing up her arms and legs… not dissimilar to his own. 

His attention gets pulled by what sounds like a whimper, coming from behind him. It’s a small girl, maybe 6 or 7, not very far away, curled up in a blanket twice her size, she’s shivering. The main thought in his head is to question where exactly he is, other than just the ministry, (… probably?) but a small thought in the background grew to overcome it.

He searches the room and spots another blanket over by the woman in the corner. It takes an effort but he manages to pull himself up enough to crawl over to it, it feels pathetic but he doesn’t know if he even could stand right now. When he touches the blanket he can’t help but cringe, it’s not soft, or thick. It’s rough, and thin, and horrible, the type of blanket one might see in Azkaban (or so he imagined, he knew nothing about the inside of Azkaban, nobody did.) He hadn’t even committed a crime, other than existing. 

He figures this woman wasn’t using it, so who cares if he takes it, and slowly brings it over to the small girl. Her face was smushed in discomfort. Slowly he lays the blanket over her, not feeling as bad about how tough it is when he notices it’s the same as the one she already has. She stirs a bit, and her eyes slowly open. Remus tries to seem unthreatening, but with a large jagged scar over his face, he knows that’s a bit difficult. 

Her eyes meet his and with just one look he knows that she’s in the same amount of pain that he is in right now. His heart breaks, remembering what it felt like to be a kid dealing with something so scary. It’s then that he realizes what drew him to look after her, pack mentality. She smiles, it’s small but it’s there, but soon her head is resting down again and her eyes close and he is sure she’s asleep again. 

The wall isn’t too far behind him so he brings himself over to lean on it, he’s exhausted, but the thought of sleep evades him. He closes his eyes. He thinks of Sirius, and his friends. What if they think he didn’t try to stay? He didn’t surrender, he didn’t. He remembers fighting them all through Hogwarts until they finally decided the show was over and knocked him out. What about Mary and Marlene, who didn’t know? Would they hate him now for not telling them, or would they hate him for being a werewolf more. What about his mum? She probably saw the news. Would Hogwarts tell her what happened? Or leave her in the dark waiting for a son to come home at Christmas who may not even be alive by then. He doesn’t realize the tear falling down his face until there’s a hand on his cheek.

He opens his eyes and the little girl is there, her eyes are such an icy blue that Remus has to second guess that they aren’t made of glass. She doesn’t speak, and is still wrapped up tight in a blanket, but she lays the other one half over his lap and the other half over herself, and cuddles herself against his side. 

Under normal circumstances, Remus would have been freaked out, not having much interaction with children, I instead he’s calm. He lets himself relax against the wall, wrapping an arm over the girl's shoulders and letting her relax into his side. Sleep still eludes him, but it comes easy for the girl. Before long she's asleep.

~~~

The common room is silent when Sirius goes in, nobody really finished their meal, none of the Gryffindors really felt like eating after that. The great hall had been silent too, Sirius assumed it had been from shock. Taking Remus in the middle of a meal, they knew what they were doing: they wanted to make an example out of him. Not only traumatizing the room, but teaching them a lesson. Sirius was filled with red hot anger, burning in his chest, that had nowhere to go.

James was speechless for the first time in a long time, his quidditch match plotting a long forgotten thought. Peter looked sick, Sirius was surprised he was still breathing. 

The Marauders (minus one) made their way to their dormitory, but were stopped by an angry Mary McDonald.

“Stop.” She was shaking, Marlene and Lily not far behind her. “You guys knew, didn’t you.” She spat. 

They didn’t say anything, Sirius couldn’t deal with this right now, he didn’t want to. he wanted Remus back. It was James who stepped forward first, but Mary stepped away.

“No. No!” She pointed at them, “you knew and you didn’t tell us! You didn’t tell us that Remus is a- a…” her face looked conflicted.

“Mary,” James stepped forward, “it wasn’t our place to tell you anything. It was his secret, not ours.” 

“By him telling you, it became yours.” The look on her face was hard to mistake for anything else. Betrayal.

“To be fair,” Peter came forward, “he didn’t tell us anything, we figured it out ourselves.”

“When.” Mary stepped forward, trying not to yell but failing. “How long have you known?” 

More people have filed into the common room now, watching the scene unfold. All of them were still shaken, no matter what their relationship with Remus had been, they still knew him.

“Since second year…” Sirius felt his voice start to break, but caught against it. “But we never had any reason to be scared of him, he didn’t want people to know for this exact reason!” Instead of letting the sadness out, he breaks out the anger, slowly raising his voice, “he’s been a werewolf longer than he’s been at Hogwarts! And he has never once hurt anyone but himself, everything they said about him was bullshit!” 

“They said he killed his dad.” Marlene spoke up, she didn’t look mad, just sad. 

“He…” James geared up to fight back, but stopped. “You don’t believe that do you?” 

“Yes! No… maybe,” Marlene let out an exasperated breath, “I don’t know! But he’s been lying to us for the last six years, so anything’s possible.” 

“You guys knew that there was a dangerous monster in the school, and didn’t think to tell Dumbledore?” A fifth year interrupted, Sirius didn’t know his name, didn’t care to learn it really.

“Dumbledore knew.” said Peter. “Dumbledore made sure there was a safe place for him to go during full moons, Dumbledore knew he wasn’t a threat.” 

“Killing his father makes him not a threat?” A small blonde boy added, “I’m glad he’s gone, before one of us could be next.”

“He. Has. Never. Hurt. Anyone.” Sirius spat through his teeth. He didn’t want to be here, he wanted Remus back, he didn’t want to stand here and listen to why people hated them, and hated Remus. He turned and walked to the dormitory, a few people started talking but he blocked them out, he felt Peter follow him.

He slammed open their door and let out a yell. Fuck. His eyes caught on Remus’ empty bed and that’s when he broke. He remembered last night laying in it with him, promising him that they had more time. He remembered the few seconds before they took him, when Remus gave him a kiss. So short Sirius can’t even feel the ghost of his lips on his own. Peter was beside him, Sirius realized once Peter took his hand, there were tears in his eyes. Sirius pulled him into a hug, and they cried together.”

~~~

Mary had never felt so betrayed. One of her closest friends was a monster, and nobody had thought to tell her. Her mind went back and forth as she watched Sirius retreat upstairs, Peter in tow. One side was mad that she had been tricked and lied to, but the other… her friend was gone, taken in a brutal and inhuman way while he screamed in pain. But only one of those could she deal with the source of. James watched his friends start to go before he turned back.

“Listen,” he started, “if you want to talk about this more, we need to be calm. I’m sorry you didn’t know, but right now is not the time to be taking it out on us.” His face was blank, it was scary. She had never seen him like this before, but she has also never seen James have to go through something like this either. 

A few voices broke out in the crowd.

“Makes sense, all his scars.”

“I’m surprised he hasn’t killed or turned all of us by now.”

“Charmaine from third year hasn’t been in school for a while, what if he got to her?”

“What if werewolves have mind control powers and he’s been fooling us like that this whole time?”

“ENOUGH!” James yelled, “don’t you hear how ridiculous you all sound!” He looked back at Mary, “if you want to talk about this more, then please come with me. Everyone else?” He pointed around the room, “have you forgotten what makes you a Gryffindor?” His face fell and he stormed off towards the stairs. 

Mary stood there. What right did he have? He was the one who actually knew. He didn’t get to tell her how to feel. Marlene was at her side now, and so was Lily. Marlene shared a similar expression of despair, Lily just seemed sad.

“We should follow him.” Lily said, “we can figure this out together.” When Mary didn’t say anything she added, “please?”

Marlene sighed and trudged up the stairs. With a nod of her head and a tug on her hand Lily pulled Mary along. 

The first thing Mary saw when she entered the room was Sirius trying to rub away his tears. The image of Remus pressing a quick kiss to Sirius’ face just moments before they took him fresh in her mind. She put a note to look into that later. But right now, the problem at hand was that they lied to her. 

They all sat in a circle on the floor. The bed in front of Mary had messy sheets, an extra tie laying on top of it. A pile of textbooks on the bedside table, a small vial of potion next to it beside a chocolate frog. Leaning against the wall next to it was a cane. Remus’ bed.

“Okay,” James took a deep breath. “What can we tell you?” Now that they were in private Mary could see his mask faltering, no longer the confident boy ready to defend his friend, now he was the scared boy whose friend was just ripped away from him in front of his face. 

“Remus is a werewolf.” Marlene said.

“Yes he is.” James rolled his eyes, “and that just cost him everything so if we could just—”

“No!” Marlene interrupted “I mean… you have to get bit by a werewolf to become a werewolf. You said he’d been a werewolf longer than he’d been at Hogwarts.” She looked up at Sirius, “that means…?”

“He got bitten not quite a month before his fifth birthday.” He answered, “by Fenrir Greyback when he was on his whole “werewolf army” conquest.” His eyes were a bit red, but Mary didn’t say anything. 

“Oh shit…” Marlene looked down at her lap. “The scars… the cane…” she looked up, lip quivering, Mary had never seen her like this, never seen her so conflicted on how to feel. “Does it hurt him?” 

“Uh…” James picked at a piece of skin on his fingernail. “Yeah, it hurts, over time it hasn’t stopped. His body has been breaking and restructuring itself once a month for eleven years. The scars aren’t from the transformations though.” He leans back against the wall, hands in his hair. “The wolf used to get really… pent up. There was nothing for it to attack so it turned on itself. And Remus had to suffer for it.”

“You said ‘used to’.” Mary pointed out, “what changed, he had something to hurt now?” She knew she was aggressive, she knew she could be getting unreasonable, but in the moment she felt she had the right to be, maybe it was selfish, (it probably was) but she had so many emotions going on it was easier just to focus on one. So she picked the easiest one.

“No! But uh…” he looked at Peter and Sirius. Sirius nodded.

“Oh just tell her.” Peter sighed, “we’re being honest, aren’t we?”

“Okay, so that used to be a problem but…” James took a deep breath. “Webecameillegalanimagi.” He said it so fast that Mary almost missed it. But she didn’t.

“You WHAT!?!?” She looked between them, narrowing her eyes in disbelief, “prove it.” 

And then Peter was gone and there was a rat on the floor, and ran over to her and she screeched. Ew. But then the rat went back to the circle and morphed into Peter. Mary’s heart was beating fast and heavy in her chest. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked for this. 

Sirius slowly morphed into a big black dog. Most dogs looked happy and carefree, but this dog looked more dejected than anything else. He morphed back and then shrugged.

He looked over at James. “Prongs?”

James got up and sighed, “I need some space.” He said, and then walked over closer to the door. Sighing and shaking his head he took a breath. And then a large deer— no, stag stood in his place. Antlers so tall they almost brushed against the ceiling. He changed back and walked back to the circle.

“Yeah, animagi.” He sat back down. “We knew the wolf hurt itself and thought if we were there we could stop it. We did some research and found out that werewolves don’t hurt animals unless they are hunting.” He shrugged, “so we became animagi. It worked by the way, he’s had almost no self-inflicted injuries from the wolf since then.”

“I’m going to come back to the fact that you guys have become animagi at sixteen-”

“Fifteen.” Peter interrupted.

“Whatever!” Mary snapped at him. She knew she was mad at the wrong things, but she felt so… much. She didn’t know what to do with it all. “But he just let you come with? What if he did hurt you guys? Do you know how stupid that is?” 

“He didn’t, actually.” Sirius was getting defensive now, it was a familiar feeling on Sirius. “When we told him, at the start of last year, he didn’t let us join him for two months, but then he almost died. And we begged him.”

“The rule has always been if the wolf gets violent then we defend ourselves no matter what.” James said, “the only one of us who ever saw him as dangerous, was Remus.”

“Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs…” Lily pointed at each of them, saying their nicknames. Mary didn’t get it until… oh.

“Moony.” She said, the boys nodded. “Maybe… I should have picked up on it.”

“We are sorry that you didn’t know.” Peter said, “but when we found out we weren’t as close with you guys as we are now, and Remus didn’t want anybody knowing, not even us. He thought he was going to have to leave Hogwarts.” He looked down at his lap. “He said if anyone found out he would lose what little chance he had at an education, only last year was he actually getting used to the idea that he would get to stay here until year seven.” 

“That’s why I didn’t actually tell him that I knew.” Said Lily. Lily… Lily knew.

“You knew!” Mary turned on her. “You’ve needed so quiet this whole conversation, I thought it was from shock, but it was because you knew already!” She was yelling. She hated yelling, she hated doing it, she hated hearing it, everything about it. If she was honest she hated herself a bit right now, she didn’t hate her friends one bit. How did they figure it out… and she didn’t?

“Not a hundred percent!” She defended, “it was at the end of fourth year after our lesson on werewolves in defence. Connected the dots. All the sore joints… scars… how he never sat beside you when you wore your nice silver jewelry…” she looked at Mary, who was immediately filled with guilt. She wouldn’t have worn it if she knew she was hurting her friend… her friend who lied to her… who was a monster… but her friend nonetheless.

“Then I realized that the “migraines” lines up with the full moons.” Lily gave air quotes around the word migraines.

“To be fair, migraines are a pretty good excuse.” Mary shrugged, “my aunt has semi-regular migraines and she can barely leave her bed all day.”

“Yeah, migraines are more common with muggles than wizards and I just thought that maybe it was because he’s a halfblood.” Marlene shrugged, and then her face fell. “I’m disappointed that I didn’t know, but I understand why. But now he’s gone and I had no warning.” 

“I…” Mary was sorting through her thoughts desperately, she was spiraling and she knew it. But they didn’t tell her something important, they knew she hated being left out. They knew how important honesty was to her. It wasn’t their place to tell her and she knew it, but she felt sick. “I don’t know what to think.”

“Can you please just not take it out on Remus?” James ventured, “he is the one paying for this right now.” His voice was wavering, not far from breaking into tears himself. 

“I need air.” Was all that Mary was able to get out before storming out of the room.

~~~

Whatever light source that the room was using got brighter, no longer dim, and Remus took the chance to scan his surroundings more. The floor was concrete, and so were the walls. They were covered in scratches and a bit wrecked. Remus recognized them from the walls of the shack, but there was something shiny peeking out from a small chip on one of the walls. Just by one of the corners was a door, just made out of iron bars… no, not iron, silver. 

The little girl was still pressed to his side, sleeping peacefully. She was warmer now, no longer shivering, knowing that she was okay made his heart warm a bit.

The woman leaning against the wall stirred, bringing up her scared hands to rub on her face. She spotted Remus almost immediately.

“Hi.” She grumbled, “you new here? Or a transfer?” She yawned, the undefined time of rest clearly not doing much to fuel her energy. 

“Um…” Remus cleared his throat, not having talked since screaming his head off, “…new.” He really expected more than nonchalance from her, but from the state of her hair and tired features, she must have been in here a while. 

“Well then,” she sighed, “welcome.” She stretched, “few things: one, time is going to feel weird, I think they are being inaccurate to mess with us. Two, food is sparse, so we share it as seen fit, we aren’t animals, no matter if they treat us like it. Three, yes the clothes suck, but whatever they have done to them is so they don’t break during full moons, so then they don’t have to waste materials on us. Four… uh, you are going to get real bored, so you better at least pretend to like the company.” 

“You think I’m not going to like you?” He asked.

“Maybe, I don’t care.” She shrugged, “I mostly just meant Douglas. He talks a lot of shit, don’t let it bother you, we all are stuck here together, can’t be causing fights.” 

“Shut up,” a new voice grumbled, “let a man wake up before you talk to him.” It’s the figure who was beside Remus when he woke up, he slowly sits himself up with a groan. 

“There’s new dead meat,” she nods over Remus’ way. “Be nice.” Remus wonders if this is Douglas, he also wonders what happened to all these people before landing here. They were all like him, but by how much? 

The man slowly turns to face Remus, he’s old, his hair more grey than black, and his face wrinkled and stretched. He's in the same outfit, grey t-shirt and shorts. He too, has scars. Though his scars appeared to be not quite as bad or as many as the woman’s or his own. 

“Oh,” he says, “a young one. What’s your name, boy?” He asks.

“Remus. Lupin.” He internally cringes at the irony, it used to be a bit funny, his name practically being “Wolfy McWolf” but in the moment it just feels like another one of life’s cruel tricks.

“Caliban Volkov.” He pushes himself up to stand and Remus notices that he is missing a hand. “That’s Portia,” he points to the woman, “surprised she spoke to you at all, she usually doesn’t talk to the newbies.” He lowers his eyes at Remus like he’s inspecting him, he points at the girl under Remus’ arms. “But that’s more of a surprise, she’s been kicking and screaming at anyone trying to get near her.” 

Remus looks down at her, still sleeping soundly with the ghost of a smile on her lips. 

He shrugged, “I just gave her an extra blanket, then she came over and did this.” 

Portia hummed, and let her head rest back against the wall. Caliban was still standing, he started to do some stretches, Remus heard something crack in his joints, but Caliban didn’t flinch. He strangely felt like he was looking through the mirror to the future. Himself, old, wrinkled, and scarred, joints popping for reasons more than just age. 

A banging on the barred door pulled his attention, he felt the girl against his side startle awake. The gate- door? …Cage? Gets thrown open, and a man gets pushed in, crumbing to the floor, he’s yelling at them.

“Get back here and fight me!” He stumbled up, throwing himself against the bars and grabbing them tight, Remus can hear the hiss of burning skin. “What? Scared?” He taunts, leaning heavily on the wall beside him for balance, even though he’s yelling and acting aggressive, he looks weak.

“Enough!” Caliban snaps at him. “Not going to do anything but get them to take you again.” Remus can’t see his face, but knows he is rolling his eyes.

The man grunts in response as he collapses against the wall, “Who’s the new kid?” He asks. His dusty blonde hair hangs into his eyes so Remus can’t see all of his face.

“This is Remus.” Caliban says. “Did they say anything this time?” He asks the new mystery man. 

“Nothing new.” he waves his hand, “same old, same old.” He narrows his eyes at Remus. “So, Remus was it? How’d they finally catch you? Show up at your house, follow you through Diagon…” he checks them off on his fingers as he goes.

“Uh… can I at least know who you are first?” He asks, he wants to stand up, he might have more control over the situation then, but the small girl is still against his side, very much awake now (he thinks.) and only Caliban is standing, so it feels less awkward.

“You…” if Remus wasn’t mistaken, he looks almost… hurt? “You don’t know who I am?” Remus shakes his head. “They wrote in the profit about me! Everyone in London knew to beware me!” Remus got the sinking feeling that this was Douglas. 

“I live in Wales.” Remus said, “Spend most of the year in Scotland. I’m rarely in London.” He shrugs. 

“Scotland?” Caliban turns to him. “You aren’t a Hogwarts student are you?” 

“Yeah.” Remus watches as Caliban's expression changes, “sixth year.”

“And they let you stay after this happened to you? Or was this them turning you in?” Caliban didn’t seem to be interrogating him, just curious.

“No, uh… I was a werewolf before I went to Hogwarts.” Saying it felt weird, but it was true. “And they didn’t turn me in, I don’t think.” He looks over at the new guy, “I’m sorry but who are you?” 

Caliban walks back and forth, muttering to himself, Remus pretends not to notice his limp. 

“My name is Dire. The most feared werewolf of the UK, following Fenrir Greyback.” He states. His face looks smug, Remus is disgusted. Not hating his werewolf side is one thing, but being proud of it? Horrifying.

“Cut the shit, Douglas.” Portia rolls her eyes. “Nobody compares to Fenrir.” 

Remus feels a shiver go down his spine at the mention of that name. He was lucky he got to live mostly void of having to hear about Greyback, he had the feeling that in here, he wouldn’t be so lucky. 

~~~

Peter watched Mary run out of the room and caught the urge to chase after her. Sometimes she needed space, he knew that, but hopefully she wouldn’t do anything rash or stupid. He didn’t know what to say or what to do next. It didn’t matter what he chose to do next, it didn’t change the fact the Remus was gone.

And he hadn’t done anything to help.

He sat there and cowered while James and Sirius tried to fight. Yes, there was a spell holding him back, but the others had at least tried to fight it more. But he sat there, doing nothing, while Remus said his goodbye and then got dragged away.

Would have changed anything anyway?

“I feel bad.” Marlene broke the silence, “talking about him like this when he’s not here.”

“He didn’t want you guys to find out like this.” James said, only sadness left in his voice. “And for the record..  he did want to tell you two, he just didn’t know how.”

“How much…” Marlene hesitated, “how much of what we learned about werewolves in defence was accurate?”

Peter shook his head, “not much.” 

“Oh.” Marlene looked down at her hands. Peter guessed she was going through a similar thought process that Peter had in year two, fighting what you’ve always been taught and accepting that it was wrong. Peter is a bit ashamed to admit how long it took him to do that. 

“I’m going to find Mary.” Lily said, standing up with Marlene. “We should… I’d say deal with this more in the morning, but what is there to do?”

Nobody answered. Because nobody knew.

~~~

The cell had fallen silent for a while, Portia resting her head. He got a better look at her now, the way she sat a bit awkwardly, she was pregnant, probably far from the baby coming, but Remus couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she started to give birth in here. Caliban was stretching— Remus cringed every time he heard a pop— and Dire-Douglas (?) doing some kind of workout in the corner. The girl against Remus’s side moved more, sitting up and rubbing her eyes awake. 

He looked down at her and got to properly examine her face in the light. She looked frail, a bit malnourished and way too tired. 

“Your name is Remus?” She asked, he took note of her French accent and tired notes in her voice. He nodded, she pointed at herself. “I am Cosette.” She stayed sitting against the wall looking up at him. Remus sensed the rest of the room watching. 

“Good morning, Cosette.” He said, she smiled, but her smile fell when her stomach grumbled. “Hungry?” She sucked on her bottom lip lightly and nodded. 

“She hasn’t eaten for half the meals they’ve brought since she got here.” Portia spoke up. “Who knows when they are bringing the next one, we didn’t get dinner yesterday before the lights went down.” 

“What did you mean when you said they were being inaccurate with time?” Remus asked her. Cause he didn’t think he had passed out long enough for it to be morning right now.

She shrugs, “when I landed in here I was conscious the whole time, it was late afternoon, the first meal they gave us was breakfast, less than an hour later.” She points to Caliban, “he showed up right after lunch, when he woke up he said he thought it was midnight.” She shrugs again, “either they want to mess with us, psychologically or something, or they just don’t care enough.” 

Caliban stops stretching and sits down beside Portia, “sometimes the lights are only on for a couple hours before it’s ‘night time’,” he air quotes night time, “other times I think it’s been day for more than twenty four hours.” 

“Oh.” It would make sense, disorient and weaken them in the cage, so that they would never be able to fight back. 

“So who knows when breakfast is.” Dire… Douglas… says, “if we are even getting it today.” 

Portia hums. She looks over at Cosette and gives her a smile filled with pity. 

“You’ve gotta wait some more time then, okay?” She asks. Cosette doesn’t answer with much more than her stomach grumbling again.

Remus doesn't want to admit it, but he’s hungry too, and he isn’t very keen on giving the ministry the satisfaction of eating whatever scraps they decide to give him.

~~~

It’s the middle of the night when Hope hears the crack of an apparition at her front door. Usually she would be asleep, not usually a night owl herself, but sometimes she felt lonely. In those times, sleeping was hard. 

There was a knock on the door, usually someone showing up at the home felt like a good thing, a friend from work, her parents, but at this hour? It unsettled her. 

She looked through the peephole first, as always, she’s a single woman living alone most of the year, it was a safety practice. Usually looking through the peephole first let her hide her surprise, but this time it didn’t.

Why was Dumbledore at her home? 

It’s been over six years since she last saw him, when he came to talk about Remus going to Hogwarts. She had been hesitant at first, sending her baby boy away on his own, to a world she hadn’t been involved with since Lyall left. But in the end Dumbledore convinced her, and she knew that it would be good for him, to make some friends, get an education, (her homeschooling wasn’t going to get him very far, she hadn’t even finished school herself.) and he would be safer there. 

He’d have a place to go for full moons that wasn’t chained by the ankle in the concrete basement. He’d have magic to heal him after every injury. He’d be in a secure place to prevent him from hurting anyone else. He’d be hidden from the outside world that hates him. He’d be protected from anyone who ever wished him harm. He’d be safe, with more protection than Hope would ever be able to provide for him.

So why was Dumbledore here now? 

She opened the door for him, and he didn’t say anything before entering, closing the door behind him. 

“Mrs. Lupin. Is there somewhere that we can sit down and have a talk?” He asked. Hope took a minute to process, instead once again focused on the odd sight of this man in her home. The juxtaposition of a large bearded man, in long robes and a small hat, looking like he belonged in a fantasy novel, standing in the entry to Hope's small humble home. The paint on the walls is old and slightly chipped, the furniture way out of style and covered in stains from when Remus was young. 

“Yeah… this way,” she pointed to the singular couch and chair by the television. It wasn’t much, but she had been too proud for too long to be embarrassed by her home. “Can I help you?” 

The old man’s face turned sad for a brief moment before flashing back to the friendly but professional mask. 

He adjusted his robes, “We need to talk about something…unpleasant.” He turned towards the sitting room and she followed.

“Unpleasant?” Were all wizards like this? Vague and formal? Lyall was like that too, when he was still around. She hasn’t met many other wizards, though she supposed that was for a reason. “What, are you kicking Remus out of Hogwarts? You can’t do that… you told me he was allowed.” Her mind jumped to the only conclusion she could come up with. 

“No, I haven’t kicked Mr. Lupin out of Hogwarts.” He sat on the chair and Hope sat on the couch. She didn’t trust the way he was talking. Frankly, she never trusted any wizards very much anyway. “But your son is no longer on Hogwarts property. And so I now need to have a difficult conversation with you.”

She was sure she signed this year's permission slips for Hogsmead. She watched him get on the train at the platform, did he get off and not arrive at school? But it’s far enough into the year that if he didn’t arrive she would have heard by now. Did he run away? Impromptu visit to his friends house, or anywhere else… the full moon hadn’t passed very long ago she was sure, did that thing break out? Taking her precious son with it? 

“Have you seen the papers lately?” He asked. It felt inappropriately casual, as if he was making small talk waiting for the train. 

She shakes her head, “I don’t read your news. The only connections I have to your world is through my son.”

He closes his eyes for a second before removing something from the pockets in his robes. A newspaper. The Daily Profit. Hope remembers when Lyall would read one morning while he drank his coffee before going to the office. When he was gone she got rid of every article in the house, leaving no trace of them. He hands her the paper and she takes it while watching his face carefully. 

Her heart drops when she reads the title, she tries to keep hopeful. Tries to believe that there is some chance this is unrelated, a sliver of a chance that this paper is fake, a hint of a chance that her son is safe. But she knows better at this point and gives up. Her son is gone. 

She refuses to look back at Dumbledore.

“You said he would be safe.” If anger was something an object, it would be a bottomless pit. Because right now Hope is falling. Every piece of her is slipping over the edge like burning jelly, dripping down and never stopping. The stitches holding her together are being torn out of her skin as it sheds off of her body and further towards the pit. 

“And until now he had been, this was not under Hogwarts permission, and we tried to keep them away.” His voice is stoic as ever. Hope’s whole universe is crumbling, meanwhile Dumbledores just keeps on as normal. “Officials had been stationed at Hogwarts since the start of year, we did all that we could. But at dinner today, Remus was taken. We did all that we could.”

“You didn’t think to tell me? That these people were in the school? You didn’t think to tell me until my son was gone?” The hole kept getting darker and wider, the momentum of falling pulled every part of her further away from themselves, the distance between each of them growing. 

“We had all intentions of this not happening. How they found out, I hate to admit but I don’t know. Nobody in the school knew about Remus’ lycanthropy other than our nurse, his head of house, and myself.” She knew that was untrue, Remus had told her that his friends found out, he told her that they supported him anyway. He told her that they would never turn against him, but how right was he? “Nobody gave him away. We did all that we could, he lasted as long as he was able to.” 

“I’m only finding out now?” Tears pricked at her eyes, reminding her that she was actually still alive. There was no pit, and she was here and solid. She wished there was a pit, so that she could jump into it herself. This one though, would have a bottom. “After my son is gone? After they took him? They took my boy, and all you can say is sorry?” She wasn’t raising her voice, she was sure of it. But every part of her wished she would yell, scream, punch, kill… but she couldn’t. All she could do was sit there.

“We didn’t want to alert you to something that we hadn’t considered a threat.” Dumbledore said calmly. 

Hope wished she knew magic so that she could cast a spell to kill him for her. But no matter if Dumbledore was dead or alive, her son was still gone. Her baby who she loved so much. Her Remus, that worried about her more than himself, even though he was the one cursed with a monster inside of him. The wizarding world was, and will always be wrong about him. Remus is not a monster, but the thing living inside of him is. 

“Is he alive?” She couldn’t bring herself to ask the alternative.

“We don’t know.” Dumbledore shook his head, “but due to the environment of the building he hasn’t been well lately, he came back from his transformation more battered and beaten than he has in years. And he walked around the building like a ghost.” He leaned a bit forward in his chair. “But once the ministry took possession of him and made their exit from Hogwarts, we don’t know what happened. We just have to hope.”

It was ironic in a horrible and cruel way. Dumbledore telling Hope to have hope, when she had nothing left. She lived for her son. He was all she had. She was what made her life worth living, knowing that he was safe. Knowing that despite their distance, he was being the boy she raised him to be, gentle and kind, hardworking and smart, her baby. 

It was a horrible thought. She hated him being in pain, but in this moment she would rather he be in pain than dead. 

“I’m sorry to give you this news, Mrs. Lupin.” Even after all these years, she still hated how her last name was connected to that man. But she knew it would have been suspicious to change it after he was no longer around, even if it disgusted her deeply. “I would encourage you to reach out to a friend or family member, it is difficult to be alone when feeling grief.” 

He stood. She wanted to yell at him, who did he think he was? Coming into her home and telling her that he failed to protect her son like he promised would, and then leaving? 

She wanted to confront him, but more than that she wanted him gone. This man was more of a betrayer than anyone. Maybe he was the real villain here. Or maybe he was just another victim of the ministry just like she was.

She didn’t move, or dare to say a word as he left, closing the door behind him.

The tears from her eyes never fell, she just sat there. And though there were the same amount of people in the house as before, she felt so much more lonely. 

And rage. She felt rage.

~~~

They didn’t get breakfast. 

Lunch was scraps. They slid the tray underneath the bars of the door and left without a word. Remus thinks there might be guards or something down the hall. Close enough to stop them from causing a fuss, and far enough away that they don’t risk being too close to the beasts. Or at least that seems to be the mindset. 

Portia goes to the tray first and everyone lets her, as if this is routine. Remus lets her. He lets the pack mentality take over, or at least that’s what he thinks is happening. Portia is in charge, she gets food first… the rest are all hungry but who cares. Though Portia seems like an odd choice, Caliban being the oldest and Douglas being the most aggressive (he assumed) would have made more sense. He hated thinking this, like an animal, but here he guesses he might not be much more than that.

Instead of eating any food she divides it up, sorting it in uneven piles across the plate. Remus looks over what he can see, some stale bread rolls, imperfect fruit, and a small pile of lettuce. Some of it she tosses to the side onto the floor, Remus sees a piece of mold on one of the ones she discards. There’s a small plastic bottle of water, Caliban takes a sip before passing it to Remus, he has a feeling that this water is a small mercy, a rarity, a privilege.

Once about half of it is sorted she looks over at him, “Remus, how old are you?” 

“Sixteen.” 

“Ah, still underage.” She mutters to herself before going back to sorting. The piles used to be even, but now they alter a bit, and some of the food she gets rid off looks fine to Remus, but he supposes if everyone else trusts her then he should too. 

When she’s done she takes each pile in her hands and hands them out, the biggest one to Douglas, next biggest to herself, they next of about the same size go to Remus and Caliban. She takes the smallest one, only one bread roll and an apple, and holds it out to Cosette. 

Remus expects her to take it, but she doesn’t, she leans away and shakes her head. Lack of appetite, but not of hunger, Remus knows the feeling. He takes the food from Portia, she hesitates to give it to him, but she lets him take it after a moment, clearly giving up. Remus holds out the roll to Cosette, and she slowly takes it. 

He watches her, taking slow, unsteady bites from the slightly stale bread, and he sees something in her that he hadn't before. Loneliness. He recognized it through her eyes, they way that they didn't look away from anyone for too long. When Remus didn’t run away from her she came in closer, desperate for something, but the carefulness of her even talking, was her fear that it would all go away. Fear that he would leave if she said too much. He recognised it from his own actions in his first year at Hogwarts. He rarely initiated any interaction with his now friends, but when they came to him, he clung to every moment like it was the last. He recognised it from his last weeks at Hogwarts, when he intentionally tried to pull away from his friends to keep them safe, but he failed. He always caught himself running back. 

He knew loneliness, the weight that sits in your stomach, and the desperation for human contact even though you know you can't have it. The frantic running in your head that is simultaneously still and moving, thinking everything you can't say, but stopping because what's the point of thinking if you aren't ever going to speak. He couldn't help but wonder what happened to this little girl to force her into silence. Children were rarely silent without reason, he of all people should know, he barely said a word between the ages of six and seven.

He turned back to his own food, a bread roll in similar shape, misshapen apple, few pieces of lettuce, and a carrot, all looking as if they were leftovers from dinner two nights ago, left out on the counter without a second thought. 

He takes a bite of the carrot and there's something almost sharp to the taste. But maybe it's just been so long since Remus has eaten a proper meal that he is imagining it. 

Halfway through the meal he looks over to Portia, “Why do you divide it?”

“Hm?” She looks up, from what seems to be a celery stick that has been stepped on. “So we all get a proportionate amount of food?” She seems lost, as if even the question of ‘why’ made no sense to even consider asking. “Oh, like why do I do it, and not anybody else?” The way she says it makes Remus feel even more stupid as he nods, “I've been in this place the longest, I can tell the bad from the worse. The portion sizes? Not everyone eats the same, What Caliban needs for food is different from scrawny over there,” She nods over to Cosette, who is still only halfway through the bread roll. 

“Oh.” He chooses not to ask about the ‘bad to worse’ comparison, though he feels it means more than it seems. 

“Speaking of…” Caliban starts.

“No.” Portia interrupts him, “We aren't discussing this more! You need to eat.”

“I don't need it as much as you do.” Caliban reaches a hand out to her, a gesture of friendship, they have been in this cage together a while, or maybe bonds form quickly in such suffering. “I’m old, got nothing much to live for anymore.”

“No,” Portia seems almost offended, “You acting like your life is worth less than mine because you have lived longer is absurd! You have people waiting for you out there! People who care and depend on you. Your life matters to people.”

“You… have someone relying on you too.” Caliban softens a bit. “The people in my life can move on without me, I'm sure they already have. The someone who is relying on you can’t, they need you.”

He looks over at Douglas, who seems over it, he's heard this conversation before. But why would he care? He gets the biggest portion. What makes him so special? Knowing what little he knows about Douglas, Remus assumes that it isn't him being ‘special’ that gets him anything.

“That someone ,” She practically spits, “Isn't making it here alive. You are naive for thinking any differently, Cal.” her hand drifts over to her stomach as she speaks, almost like a reflex. 

“All you need to get you through tough times is a bit of hope, Portia.” His face softens, “I am sorry that this place has made you forget that.” 

“I don’t think hope is getting us out of here.” It's a murmur as she says it, but it's there, and they all hear it. 

~~~

It's almost noon when Euphemia gets a letter.

It's from James and the red ink on the envelope says ‘urgent’. 

Her first thought is always the worst one, he's in trouble, he's done something stupid that he can't ever come back from. But as she reads the letter her worries morph to another.

Mum,

They took Remus. The ministry. 

We didn't know what to do, we couldn't do anything and now he is gone. I’m scared. What are they going to do to him, mum? 

I hate the ministry, I don't care if they know it. They were so aggressive, in front of everyone. He was screaming, mum. I hate them for hurting him, and taking him, he's my best friend.  It’s all in The Prophet. What they are doing. I hate it. How could they do that to a person? How could they do that to Remus? 

We are ruined. Mary and Marlene have been weird, I think they are still mad at us. Lily is walking around with a cloud of guilt. Sirius is a mess, he's barely talking. Peter is walking around school like he's waiting for someone else to be taken next. 

I’m just angry. I don’t even feel sad. Just… Rage. Why would they do that to someone? Why can't they see he’s a person? He's a normal person, a nice person, a smart person, a kind person, a funny person, so what if he spends a couple hours a month as a wolf? He’s still him. We can even see it when he’s Moony. His eyes are the same. The wolf is not aggressive, just in pain. Mum, he was in so much pain.

I'm an illegal animagi, sorry I didn't tell you. Me and Peter and Sirius became them so we could spend full moons with Remus so he wouldn't get hurt anymore. It worked, he still hurt, but he didnt scratch and fight himself anymore. I wanted to tell you but I didn't want to betray Remus’ trust. But I guess it doesn't matter anymore who knows. The whole school knows. They all hate him.

They say it to us. They ask why we didn’t get rid of him because we knew, They tell us that they hate him and until we do too we are just as bad as he is. But he's not bad, mum. He’s not. You’ve met him.

If he is bad. Then everything else is horrible.

I Hate the ministry, and I miss Remus. I miss you too. But I miss Remus more, because at least I know you are okay.

Do you think he's okay? Do you think I'll ever see him again? I don't. I want to think that. But I don't.

I love you mum.

Effie's heart broke at the tears that stained the page. As a mother she felt her son's pain. Her love for him high in her chest at how hard he went to protect his friend. Of course she knew Remus had been a werewolf.

She didn't read the paper, but she had heard the rumours. She had hoped that they were just that, rumours. 

She desperately tried to sort through all the problems and ways she could fix them. She could do anything. A letter wasn't going to make James feel better, probably nothing could. She couldn't get Remus back, oh that poor kid. He must be hurting in so many different ways, his poor mother must be worried sick. 

His mother, who is all on her own. 

Effie decides that her James can wait a bit longer for a response. He has a support system at Hogwarts. Hope Lupin has none.

She apparates just outside the Lupin house. Putting on a brave face, she can feel her feelings later. Her son is in pain, but Hope's son is gone. Effie will get to see her son again, Hope… who knows…

She knocks on the door, and it takes a minute to open, but it does. 

Effie has met Hope before, a few times at the train station, a few times when their boys wanted to hang out over the summer. They weren't friends necessarily, Euphemia wondered if it was even her place, but if it wasn't then Hope would push her away, and Hope wasn't connected in the wizard world. None of her muggle friends would truly be able to know what happened, Euphemia did. 

But the Hope that answered the door was a different Hope that Euphemia had ever seen before. All the light from her eyes was gone, instead they were dark, and dry, and sat above dark circles, her hair a mess, a tired face weighing her down. But her facial expression was blank. She recognised it from what James described in his letter. Not sadness, but undefeatable rage. Effie couldn’t even imagine. She had derailed from a woman to just a shadow of one in no time at all. Effie would have too. 

After a second Effie stepped into the house, ignoring her usual decorum and pose, and pulled Hope into a tight hug. She sank into it, Effie felt Hope's joints soften against her, and then felt her shoulders slowly start to shake as tears finally fell. They sank to the floor in the open doorway, clutching each other close, Hope’s fingers clinging to Effie's blouse like a lifeline. And perhaps it was.

After a minute Euphemia shut the door with wordless wandless magic to give them privacy, “Oh, my dear, I don’t even know what to say…” She kept her voice low in Hope’s ear. Hope choked out a sob and shook in Effie's arms. 

They sat there for the next forty five minutes. Effie didn't move from Hope, or what was left of her.

Hope Lupin didn't feel like Hope Lupin anymore, the soft spoken, kind, young single mother who raised a wonderful boy. She was Hope Lupin, a woman with nothing left but the pieces of herself.

They sat there like that. Euphemia Potter and the Broken woman.

~~~

They finished lunch slowly. Douglas finished first, despite having the most food. He then complained enough about not getting meat for Caliban to shut him up by throwing an apple at him. He ate the apple without a thank you. 

Cosette didn’t quite finish all her food, but she got close. She didn’t look much better though, in fact none of them did. Remus wondered if he was crazy for imagining the odd taste to the back of the food, or if it was actually there. But the only reason for it… was horrific to think about, so Remus tried not to. He has been avoiding his own thoughts lately. This past… time… … . .. .. …..

There’s a banging on the door, interrupting  Caliban trying to offer Portia an extra broccoli stem. There’s a ministry official at the door. His face was void of any expression, cold and heartless, as if it weren’t humans behind those bars, not even animals, just… toys.

“You, Lupin.” He barks, pointing at Remus. “Stand up.” 

Remus doesn’t move, he doesn’t want to go. It’s bad in here but he has a feeling that whatever is waiting him out there is worse. 

“Don’t fight it kid.” Caliban says to him, “it only makes it worse, just ask Doug.” 

The guard snorts a brief laugh, because maybe he doesn’t actually have feelings (Remus doubts it), “it’s gonna be bad for you either way, now get your ass up before I make you.” 

Cosette is watching him, and Remus can’t read her expression. Wherever it is is sad. She lets out a whimper, “don’t leave me.” 

Remus shakes his head, “I won’t.” Though he doesn’t regret meaning it, he does regret saying it, because his body breaks out in pain, an electric shock running through his body, vibrating through his bones and cartilage. He falls to the floor, shaking and in pain.

He hears the clatter of the gates and not much else, the shock not actively running through him anymore but still in enough pain to dissociate from it all. He feels the clink of burning handcuffs being yanked tight around his wrists. They start to drag him across the floor, and he tries to squirm out of it, but is held back by a silver rope alerting around his ankles tightly. 

He hears one last call as he’s being dragged out of the room, it’s a voice young enough to only be Cosette, it’s a name she’s calling after him. Remus doesn’t recognize it, doesn’t hear her calling enough to know it, but he does know that it is not his.

~~~

Eventually they get up off the floor, Euphemia watches Hope sit down on the couch and heads to the kitchen to make tea. The cupboards are almost bare, and so is the fridge. How much of this is from lack of money and how much of it is a lack of care for herself? She only has two flavours of tea.

Effie preps some earl grey and heads to the living room (which isn’t more than a few steps away) while the kettle boils. She sits beside Hope, her tears are gone, but her eyes are raw and red.

She takes Hopes trembling hands in her own tightly, “oh my dear, I can’t even imagine.” 

Hope doesn’t look up, her voice isn’t much more than a whisper, “they said he would be safe.” Her voice was quivering more than her hands. 

“I know,” she rubbed her thumbs over her hands, “I know my dear.” Effie couldn’t help but want to take care of her, not only was she grieving someone when she didn’t know if she had even lost them yet, but she was so young. While Euphemia was approaching sixty, Hope was not quite in her forties.

“He’s gone, Euphemia. I let him go because I was told he would be safer there.” The heartbreak of a mother was perhaps the saddest face Effie had ever seen. “It’s all my fault, if I kept him here I could have done something. I could have… I don’t know.” Her eyes darted around and her hands squeezed Effie’s even tighter.

“No. No, no, no.” Effie shook her head, pulling at Hope’s hands to desperately get her attention. “We aren’t going to think like that, okay? This isn’t your fault, and this isn’t his fault. It’s the ministry’s, no matter where he was they would have found him eventually.”  She hated the words coming out of her mouth, they tasted like rotten milk on her tongue. 

“It’s his fault.” There was too much hate in her voice to be referring to Remus.

“Who?” 

“Dumbledores… Lyalls, my father in laws… I don’t know, anyone!”

Effie didn’t know anything about Remus’ father, she just knew that Hope had been a single mother for ages, and that whatever reason her husband wasn’t around, was not something to be talking about. Hope grasped for straws, reaching for a landline that wasn’t there. Because as much struggle was in her voice, a part of it was held back, she didn’t fully believe it. Euphemia was sure that if she had lost her son so violently, she wouldn’t believe it was by any fault of anyone besides her own either. 

“Maybe.” Effie sighed, “the ministry has always been a troubled place, stuck in old ways with damaging systems. I fear this may have been coming for a long time.”

“If it was I knew none of it.” Hope spat. She was very clearly bouncing between what to feel. Between her anger, grief, sadness, and pain, there wasn’t anything for her to feel that didn’t crumble worlds apart just on their own… but together? It was enough to crumble a universe.

“They should have kept him safe.” Hope leaned in closer at Effie’s words, craving to hear every ounce of sound. “All of the people you blame failed to protect him, not you. You have done nothing wrong my dear. Nothing at all.” 

Even behind Hopes’ nod, Effie could tell that she barely ment it.

Euphemia couldn’t blame her, she wouldn’t either. It’s a mother’s duty to keep their child safe, and in Hope’s eyes, she failed to do that. But for Euphemia, it was Hogwarts who failed.

~~~

Remus knows that Caliban told him not to fight it, but Remus does anyway. His hands are in cuffs and he’s being magically dragged across the concrete floor of the hall. He knows he’s calling out, begging them to stop, to leave him alone, to let him go. He doesn’t even know why he’s trying because they aren’t going to listen, perhaps just human instinct, because he is a human. He is a human.

A person. 

Not a monster, not a beast.

A person.

They turn in the hallway and his flailing causes his foot to catch on the corner. He fights back against their pulls, not letting them tug him further and trying to pull himself away, but he fails and they place him in a body bind and cast silencio on him. A tear falls down his cheek. He can’t make any noise but that doesn’t stop him trying.

Eventually the dragging stops, and he gets levitated aggressively into a metal chair. They release the spells but before he can do anything restraints flick out from the chair and around his wrists, ankles, and his forehead.

“What are you doing?” He can’t help how his words escape in a growl, “let me go!” He doesn’t know who he’s even talking to. The man who dragged him away is behind him, there’s a quiet scuffle behind him, someone shuffling around with things.

He looks around the room as much as he can, but he doesn’t see much, concrete walls, dim light, the few cracks there are in the wall lightly shine, a shimmer hidden behind them. Based on the sinking that hasn’t quite left his bones, he knows what’s lining the inside of all these walls. 

The man comes back into view again, a dark mask covering his whole face, turning his face into an abyss with eyes. His hair poked up, messed from the strap around his head for the mark. He's wearing dark robes, but slips them off, underneath he's wearing a dark button up shirt and nice trousers. He pulled something up in his gloved hands, a razor blade not much longer than a thumbnail. 

He's fast and before Remus realizes that the man has started to move, there is blood trickling down his forearm on an open vertical gash. 

The pain hits him, and it’s this moment when Remus makes the decision to not let them win. He is never going to stop fighting, and he is never going to let them know how much pain he’s in. 

And though this man is (and always has been) Remus’ enemy, it would be stupid not to acknowledge the impressiveness of his wordless and wandless magic and he flicks his hand and the blade shifts to some sort of syringe. The man walks away again.

“So… where are you going?” Remus asks. Any sort of interaction this man gives back to him is a win. Taking a card from his friends books and trying to just be annoying to fight back. It never suited him very well, but that’s because the professors at Hogwarts knew him, but here nobody knew him.

Remus tried to convince himself that he wasn’t terrified. It didn’t work.

He tried to budge and pull and his restraints, nothing, so he tried harder, and harder. Pain shot through the gash on his arm and he winced. The pain was never going to leave was it? Remus would be in pain here until he died here, wasn’t he?

The man came back into view, and Remus practiced his best act of nonchalance. Calming his face and sighing. He still held the syringe and needle, but in his other hand there was a vial, something liquid with a deep purple shimmer. He placed the vial on a stool a meter away from the chair, he stepped closer, over to Remus’ uncut arm, and shoved the needle into the veins of his elbow. He wasn’t gentle, and was far from as easy as the few other needles he’s had to have, it hurt, but he didn’t give in.

He extracted Remus’ blood and like the glutton for punishment he is, Remus watched. He watched as the life source for his body was pulled out of his veins into a small glass container. Once he was done he didn’t bother covering the small wound, instead just letting the blood bead over top. With a flick he vanished the syringe and it switched to a new empty one. He turned back to the vial. Whatever potion that was inside taunted Remus with its mystery, because Remus didn’t know what it was, but he knew it would hurt. 

He came back over with the syringe, now filled with the potion. Remus braced himself as unnoticeably as possible. He’s given up on the Sirius and James technique, but not on never letting them win. 

He missed Sirius. He misses James. He misses Peter. He misses his mum. He misses Lily. He missed Marlene and Mary. He misses his mum. He misses—

The needle jabs into the middle of the slice on his arm, the potion- fluid… liquid, purple- it filled the muscles in his arm. His fingers go numb with pain, his pulse throbbing through his arm, his body is shaking. His skin is burning and bleeding and falling off of his body. 

No, his skin is all still there. Maybe it would hurt less if it wasn’t though. 

He doesn’t notice when the needle is gone, if it ever is. He does notice when the restraints stop fighting against him, not because he’s been released but because he has stopped fighting. The pain had frozen him. Even if he wanted to scream, he couldn’t have. 

It’s worse than turning into the wolf.

His heartbeat turned into pulsing lighting, His skin turning into barbed wire, and his blood into molten rock.

His vision is getting hazy, everything blurry and vibrating in his eyes. His hearing isn’t much better. He doesn’t ever properly go unconscious, he’s awake the whole time, but even then he is still not really here. His body still capeable of moving, but it hurts too much to even consider trying. He feels everything.

He’s aware of them (he can swear that there are more of them now, maybe there has been the whole time.) gently buzzing the hair off behind one of his ears, he knows as they gently cut his skin there, poking and prodding the injury that they caused. 

Something cold, and sharp, and metallic, and deafeningly painful, slipped into the slit of open skin on his head. Like a letter in a mail slot. He can feel the blood trailing down his neck. He doesn’t know what they are doing, and he doesn’t know how he’s still alive. 

He misses his mum.

He feels the top of a wand against his skull, sealing the slit. He doesn’t feel them bring the patch of his hair back, because they don’t.

He feels a similar slip of metal on his forearm. Something longer and thicker, and instead of being a small square is much more cylindrical. About half the length of a pencil and only slightly wider. He can’t see it because he can’t move his eyes to find it. All he can see is a dark stain of a man to his left, the shadow of one to his right, and the grey of permanent concrete. 

The people disappear. (Remus thinks)

His arm is still open and bleeding. (Remus thinks)

The pain is ceasing a little. (Remus thinks)

He misses his mum. (Remus knows)

Eventually they seal his arm, and whatever the purple potion wears off just enough that he can see again, and he could move again if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. 

He didn’t want to let them break him, but maybe he already has. Or maybe he didn’t let them do anything, they just did it anyway.

It’s hard to tell the difference when the assailants aren’t done with him yet. 

He watches the last needle come closer, and as it does his mind screams “NO!” Louder and louder. He knows what is in this syringe, he’d recognize it anywhere, especially with as much contact he’s had with this type of shimmer the last few days.

When it entered his veins… he screams.

~~~

“Hi.” Sirius approaches Remus as he’s sitting out on the Potters porch. His hands are hidden behind his back and his face looks sheepish.

Remus heads back home tomorrow, and he should be spending some last time with his friends before he leaves (though he will be back again this summer, there’s not much to do at home, and he had no reasons to hide away from his friends.) but instead he’s sitting on the back porch watching the sunset. He planned to go inside in a bit, he hadn’t meant to stay very long. But he had been hit with a wave of emotion, of love for his friends. They had all seen him cry before, but this was different. 

He didn’t want to have to explain that he was so happy he got to have them cause he never imagined that he’d ever have friends, let alone such wonderful ones. That he was crying cause if he was being honest he still didn’t think he deserved it all. 

He didn’t want them to get all encouraging and lovey dovey as they always did when he felt particularly more self destructive than normal. So he waited until he felt less sappy to go in. But it took longer than expected and now the sun was dipping its last inch below the horizon, and the stars shimmered above him.

“Hi.” He smiled at Sirius. It had been nice to be honest with Sirius last night. It had been nice to wake up curled in Sirius’ arms and know it wasn’t going to change the minute the sun went up. 

“I uh…” Sirius looked off, at the last bit of sunlight slipping away. “Oh, that’s pretty.”

“Yeah, it is.” 

“It’s all…” Sirius waved his hand out at it all, “orange and stuff.”

“Hmmm, poetic.” Remus looks up at him standing there, “orange and stuff.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, “arsehole,”

“Yeah, yeah.” Remus laughs a bit. 

“Can I sit?” He asks. Which is a bit unlike him, but he is acting a bit awkward. Remus worried that last night and this morning ruined things. That he was all wrong.

“Yeah.” Remus pats the seat next to him on the bench. And Sirius sits down, one hand still behind his back.

“I brought you something,” He says. Sirius squirms a bit, “I thought it was a good idea, but now I think maybe not…” Remus watches in amusement, and Sirius notices, because of course he does. “But the look on your face is telling me that it is probably an okay idea…”

“And what is this idea?” Remus mused.

Sirius takes his hand away from behind his back, and he’s holding a flower, probably taken from the forest around the Potter's house. Remus could never tell what kind it is, but it’s pretty and white. Remus feels his face heat up, and can’t help the smile that grows on his face.

“See!” Sirius laughs at himself, “now your face is telling me it was a very good idea.” 

“My face isn’t telling you anything!” Remus snaps back, but he isn’t hiding his grin at all.

“Yeah it is.” Sirius’ face softens, and the light of the sun glows gently on his face. Sirius is supposed to be a star, but… isn’t the sun a star too? “You smile and all your freckles pinch up, and you aren’t leaning back on the chair anymore, when you get shy you fix your posture.” 

“I do not!”

“Yeah, you do! I pulled out the flower and your back snapped up straight so fast.” Sirius laughs, and it’s not even that funny, but like usual, it’s contagious. 

Like usual, Sirius looked ethereal.

Sirius held out the flower once they caught their breath, “it’s for you.”

Remus took it carefully, avoiding any risk of damaging it. 

“Whenever I would try and get a girl to go out with me, or… heh, you know…” he looks off awkwardly “I’d get her a flower. And even though we are waiting a bit to do anything official, I thought, "I can still try and woo you a bit.”

“Woo, me?” Remus is silently begging Sirius to look back at him. He wants to see the truth in his eyes when they meet his.

“Oh, you make it sound dumb.” Sirius groans and puts his head in his hands, Remus can’t help but laugh at him. 

“No,” he urges through his breaths, “it’s not, please, please continue.”

“I think,” Sirius looks back at the sun, barely visible now below the trees, “I think it took me so long to realize that I liked you because I just assumed everybody thought you were special. That everybody saw you and thought, ‘Remus is the most perfect person ever.’ So me thinking like that wasn’t weird, but… if everyone thought about you like I do, I think I’d get pretty jealous.”

It’s then that Sirius looks up at him, and it’s then that Remus can tell that Sirius has the same flutter in his chest right now that Remus does. And it’s then that Remus starts to lose any doubt that this isn’t going to work out eventually. 

“I hope everyone knows how awesome you are, but I hope that I get to know you the most.”

Remus can’t help himself, “Merlin, you’re wonderful.” 

“Don’t say that!” Sirius gently elbows Remus’ side, “I’m trying to tell you how great you are, Don’t change the subject!” Sirius sighs a bit and the mood changes, “You’ve been likeing me for a while for no reason, I thought I’d give you a reason to.” 

Remus stops, what? “I don’t need a reason to like you, I just do.” He pokes Sirius in the chest. “ You are the reason.” 

Sirius settles a bit, “oh. That’s nice.”

“It is nice.”

“You know… while looking at these stars with you is nice and all, James and Pete are listening to the Quidditch game on the radio, I don’t think they would notice if we went to bed a bit early.”

Remus laughs, (he’s really been doing a lot of that around Sirius lately.) “you just want to be in bed with me, don't you?” He teases.

Sirius just shrugs, “nothing untoward. But yeah,” he raises his hands up, “guilty.” 

“Yeah, me too.” Remus grabs Sirius hand with his empty one. He looks down at the flower he’s holding and his heart swells. “Let’s go.” 

~~~

It’s been four days since they took Remus away from Sirius. Of not knowing if he was okay, if he was dead or alive.

Four days since his heart was ripped out of his chest and hung up to be beaten like a piñata. 

He couldn’t take it anymore.

People cast them dirty looks in the hallway for being Remus’ friend. Mary had apologized for reacting bad, but was still quite distant from them all. Pete always seemed to have something on the back of his mind, like he was thinking through an impossible problem. James was trying his best to seem okay in public but they all knew he wasn’t.

Remus’ empty bed taunted them. They wanted to avoid the dorm to avoid the shadow of someone no longer there, but everywhere else they went they were targets. Either people getting mad at them, or hearing the whispers of Remus’ name being raked through the mud.

Sirius knew he was the worst of them. He was aggressive and angry, snapping at everyone. Regulus kept trying to talk to him, but he avoided him, telling him to go away, a reverse of what had been their life not long ago, with the roles reversed. 

Remus’ empty bed taunted him . He couldn’t wake up and catch Remus’ face peacefully asleep behind the open curtains, couldn’t hear his breathing, or see the light of a lumos as he studied way past midnight instead of sleeping. The empty bed taunted him. So he made sure it wasn’t empty. But now he just saw his own empty bed when he looked over at night. 

The blankets still smell like him. Sirius feels a bit weird for it, for breathing more deeply to catch just a hint of the scent still there, but as long as he can get some reminder that Remus might still be okay, he doesn’t care.

Yesterday had been washing day, but Sirius skipped class to stay on the bed so it wouldn’t be sent to the house elf’s. Not like skipping class had been irregular before, nor was it irregular now. If anything it had been expected. A few teachers had been understanding, McGonagall excusing any of the marauders absences, Filch (a surprising ally, or maybe he just didn’t care.) left them alone when they were caught in the halls during class times. But most didn’t care, the detentions for repeatedly missing classes had been racking up, but Sirius had been skipping those too. Who cared if he failed all of his courses when Remus wasn’t even able to take them.

He hadn’t been going to classes, neither had Pete, James had gone to a few, but in all the marauders had been absent from classes all week. 

While they were missing classes and detentions, they couldn’t miss meals. They sure tried, but they could only hide out somewhere with food stolen from the kitchens for so long.

Meals were the worst. People avoided talking to them like the plague, people who were far from subtle talked and whispered behind their backs, teachers gave pitiful and disapproving looks at them from the head table. The fact that there was a gap only made it worse. Remus’ seat remained empty, just like it did in all of his classes. 

Sirius heard from Lily that his seat beside her in history in magic had been vandalized, horrible words written on it and the desk. Professor Bins didn’t remove it. Lily put in extra prefect hours to wash it off, but the next day it was all back.

Lily had also said that at the latest prefect meeting they hadn't talked about prefect duties at all aside from moving partner arrangements so that Lily wasn’t alone. All they talked about was tightening their security of who they would let join the ranks next. 

Sirius had asked Lily how she could still stand to go to classes. She answered that she couldn’t. She hated every moment. But if she stopped trying her grades would drop, and if her grades dropped too much, her parents would pull her out of Hogwarts. They couldn’t lose Lily too.

This morning one of the fourth years who regularly went to Remus’ study group last year approached Sirius and Peter in the common room. “You knew?” He had asked, his name was Robin, “you let that beast around first years. Around people struggling with their magic and couldn’t fight back. You let him stay at this school ready to hunt us all down.” 

Without Remus’ study group, Robin wouldn’t have passed most of his third year classes.

Sirius had snapped at that, yelling about how Remus had never hurt anyone but himself, they were never in danger and clearly none of them paid attention in defence if they thought he was dangerous as a man. He heard a whisper from a second year by the windows. “Maybe something we learn about in defence against the dark arts shouldn’t be let in the school.” Peter had to hold Sirius back from marching right over there.

The halls felt hollow without Remus. But at least they still had a reason to stay standing.

~~~

Remus misses his mum.

He’s in and out of consciousness over the next… while. 

He doesn’t remember anything but pain.

And his mum.

He misses his mum.

~~~

It’s dinner when Sirius snaps again. When someone walks by their table and drops a hairball on Remus’ empty spot on the bench.

James can see it on Sirius’ face. 

“Sirius, don’t do anything stupid,” he pleads, “please, not right now.” He sounds tired. Sirius knows James hasn’t properly slept since they stole Remus.

“How are we letting this slide?” The anger is boiling in his chest, the hole where his heart used to be is no longer an empty gap but a grumbling volcano. 

“We aren’t, we’re just…” James’ face scrunched as he searched for an answer.

“Exactly.” 

“We aren’t letting it slide Sirius!” Peter urges. “We just know that if we fight back too much the wrong way that we prove their point.”

“We aren’t fighting back at all.” Sirius says. He shouldn’t be mad at James and Pete, he knows it, but he is anyway. He’s more mad at himself than anyone else. He really is useless, isn’t he? Could even save his… best friend… not-quite-boyfriend… his Remus. He couldn’t save Remus.

He can’t help himself, he needs to yell, to scream, to punish someone, something. Anything. 

The kid who dropped the hairball is long gone, but everyone else here sucks too. Good enough. 

Everything boiling and rotting inside him bursts out as he stands up on his seat.

“Every single one of you is a traitor!” He yells, the rotting and boiling and burning is still there, begging to keep spilling out. “Anyone who came to his study groups? Traitors. Anyone in Gryffindor? Traitors. Anyone who ever shared a class with him? Traitors. Anyone who dared to once call him a friend? Traitors.” He knows everyone is watching him now, yelling on the bench, good, he wants them too. “I know that anyone who knew him wondered about his scars, and now people are speculating even more. I’ll tell you the truth, he has them because the only person he’s ever been a danger to has been himself. The wolf has no one to attack so it goes after him and he lets it! He is in pain constantly from not only the injuries healing, but the toll it takes on his joints to break and re break themselves every. Fucking. Month!” He’s running out of breath but he wheases through it. “He’s in pain and Tired, but still manages to show up and make a difference for so many people! He was terrified that he wouldn’t be able to finish his education at Hogwarts, so he made every moment count.” 

He spots a young Ravenclaw whispering into her friend's ear, he calls her out, pointing at her, “Reema Arnolds, two weeks ago when a spell went wrong and you couldn’t see, who helped you to the hospital wing? Remus.” He scans the crowd again, a Slytherin who had  history of magic with Lily and Remus, “Malcom, I heard you tell Remus last year that sharing his notes was a “life saver.” Why would you turn your back on someone who supposedly saved you?” He’s on a roll now, the burning and rotting and boiling and the clawing in his chest, flowing out past the broken dam. “Adelaide Carly, twice a day she comes up to Remus asking the common room password when it changes cause she forgot it again. Even before he was a prefect, because he gave it to her when she forgot all the way back in her first year. She also started a rumor last week that he had been mind controlling everyone to convince them he was a human, so much for trust, huh? William Capielo, Geo Thornly, and Hanly Chou, you three got so lost in your first year that Remus wrote down instructions for how to get anywhere. Claimed that they never liked him anyway.”

“I can keep going, naming ways that Remus has helped the people in this room.” He scowls at the professors, watching in shock, “you all are the worst, we all heard the praises you gave him each class for his hard work. Now all acting as if each classroom he’s no longer in is better off without him.” The clawing slows, the burning ceases, the rotting stops, and the boiling simmers down. The yelling quiets along with the violence. “None of you were ever in danger from Remus. He never gave you any reason to hate him before, and now you learn something about him that’s always been true, and you change your tune. You are all traitors. Whether you care or not, you have betrayed someone now. You are all letting him down. Letting yourselves down really…” 

He sighs at himself, “Merlin, this is stupid. This isn’t going to change anything, is it? Remus told me this would happen.” He’s stepped down and the room is still silent. He’s making his way out of the room and there’s the footsteps behind him, too many just to be James and Pete. The girls are coming too. Merlin, he’s making a scene. 

 But when all the storming is gone, he’s just empty, he’s not even mad anymore, there’s just… nothing.

He doesn’t go back to the dorm, he can’t stand being in there anymore. He finds himself in the astronomy tower and he thinks he’s lost his friends. That’s fine,

He sits down against the cold concrete slab walls and sighs. What did he just do? That wasn’t going to fix everything, if anything people were going to laugh at him, which was fine, they could laugh at him. But by laughing at him defending Remus they were laughing at Remus. Oh Remus, Sirius begs for him to be okay. Maybe they took him and got him a nice hotel in a cute little village and he’s living it up there… but who is he kidding, he’s probably dead. But he’s not.

He can’t be dead. If he’s dead than why should Sirius still be here? There’s no point without Remus, no point in anything. Why go to classes if not to compete for highest marks with Remus, why go to meals if not to talk to Remus, why go to bed if he can’t wake up and see Remus sleeping safe and sound, why go back to the potters at holiday if Remus can never visit again, why do anything, why, why, why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why w hy why why

why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why w h y w h y…

W h y…

Why did they take him?

Why was Sirius still alive if Remus wasn’t?

Why can’t Sirius breathe? He can’t breathe, the walls are collapsing around him, robes and shirt squeezing at his throat, he’s clawing at his tie. He can’t breathe? Maybe he shouldn’t. If Remus isn’t breathing, what right does Sirius have to? He needs to breathe. Everythings blurry and Sirius can’t make anything out, shapes are moving and Sirius can’t breathe. Why? Sirius can’t breathe. A hand is on his shoulder and he flinches away, who is it, who’s here? Who’s trying to hurt him? He can’t breathe.

Glasses. It’s James. James isn’t trying to hurt him. James’ hand is on Sirius' wrist. Sirius can’t breathe. Sirius’ hand is on James chest, James… James is sitting in front of him. James is breathing. Sirius can’t breathe. Remus is dead. Probably. He’s probably dead. Sirius can’t breathe. But James can breathe. How can James breathe? Sirius feels his hand rise and fall with James' chest, with his breathing. If James can breathe right now that Sirius can too. Yes he can. 

“In… and out…” James’ voice is hazy but it’s there, his face is clearer too. He can pick out the light spatter of freckles across his cheeks, and the small scar by his eye from a prank gone wrong in third year. Remus had planned that one. Remus Remus Remus. Remus needs Sirius to breathe. Sirius needs Sirius to breathe.

In… and out… Sirius breathes. Sirius breathes. Sirius breathes. 

“That’s it.” James again. “You’re okay Sirius, you’re okay.”

Sirius rests his head against the concrete and lets his hand fall. His head has stopped spinning now, he feels like a person again. 

“I am,” his voice is raspy, his cheeks are wet. He hadn’t realized that he had been crying. “Remus isn’t.” Nope, he’s still crying.

James doesn’t say anything to that. Because what right do they all have to be okay when Remus isn’t? Maybe they have to be okay because Remus isn’t, they have to be okay for him. 

“I’m sorry.” Sirius refuses to look at James. But he’s sure James isn’t the only person in the room. Someone sits down beside him.

“Don’t be.” Peter is beside him, “you said what we all wanted to, badly but… it was said.”

“Gee, thanks.” Sirius doesn’t know if he should regret it or not, is it actually going to change anything? Probably not. 

“I’m still mad at you guys.” It’s Mary, Sirius looks back down at the room, the girls are here too. Great, they all saw his melt down. He doesn’t have the energy to be embarrassed. “But I’m angry at everyone else too. I’m… only a little mad that I didn’t know, I understand, and Lily’s told us a lot about what she knew. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.” She sat down too, “I think I still worry about being left out of things sometimes, and there was so much to digest that I just… it was easier to get mad at you guys than figure out what I was actually mad about.”

“It’s okay.” Sirius nods, “I got it, he was your friend too.”

“Is.” 

“What?”

“You said he was my friend.” Mary explained, “he is my friend. Is, not was.”  

Lil and Marlene sat down too now, all of them huddled in a slightly misshapen circle on the floor. 

“We have to believe he’s okay.” Lily puts her hand on Sirius’ knee, “it’s the only way we can handle it.”

“That’s hard.” Sirius sighs.

“I think…” James starts, “it’s horrible to say but I think if they wanted him dead they would have killed him right then. If they would take him like that in front of everybody, then they would have no regards against killing him like that either.”

“We have to believe that he’s alive,” Lily urges, “we have to.” 

Marlene mumbles something, and when Lily asks her to repeat herself, she does.

“He’s alive.” She says it like it’s a fact, “but he’s not okay.” 

“Marlene… how do you…?” James asks, but he doesn’t finish speaking.

“Because I asked. My dad works for the ministry. I wrote to him yesterday, told him what happened and asked what’s going to happen to him. He doesn’t work with the department but figured out what he could. They don’t want any of them dead, they are trying to weaponize and disable lycanthropy.” She’s fiddling with the ring on her finger again, “he said the conditions that they are keeping him, and all the others, in, isn’t good. He dislikes werewolves and even he said it’s inhumane.”

“Weaponize and disable?” Lily asks, her voice is shaking and her jaw is set. She’s fuming. “What does that even mean… how are they…”

“I don’t know!” It’s almost a shout, startling from Marlene, whose anger is quiet and rumbling, she doesn’t explode, “that’s all he said. But Remus is alive right now. But…” she hesitates, but Sirius and her had been super close up until this year, so he knows what she’s thinking. If the conditions are that bad, if he’s suffering, wouldn’t it be better if… if he wasn’t? Sirius doesn’t want to think about it. 

“You said that they don’t want any of them dead, and that right now Remus is alive… so that means.” Peter says what everyone's thinking, as always.

“Yeah, some of their… I don’t know, experiments,” she crunches her face in disgust, “have… they have had casualties.” She swallows heavily, as if saying those words are the grossest thing she’s ever said, it probably was. Sirius hates just hearing it.

“And there’s nothing we can do.” Mary says. “We can’t save him, or help him.”

“Any of them.” Lily adds, “it’s not just Remus there.”

“…yeah.” Sirius can see how much Mary is trying, he knows it can be hard to fight biases. As much as he hates to admit it, there was a time when he believed his parents' propaganda, it was well into second year before he started to naturally not think it, even though he had disagreed for years. 

“I don’t know how many werewolves they’ve taken.” Marlene says 

“How many people, they’ve taken.” James corrects, “they are taking people.”

“People who are werewolves.” Marlene bites back, “they aren’t just taking anyone, most of them were unregistered, not all of them are as harmless as Remus is.” 

“They are still people.” James argues back.

“Yes they are! I’m not saying that they aren’t, it is horrible, but some of them should be locked up. Not Remus, not some of the others. But some of them have hurt people.”

James doesn’t have anything to say to that, but neither does Sirius, she’s right. Fenrir Greyback intentionally bit a four year old kid to teach his father a lesson. Greyback was trying to form a werewolf army. Greyback’s in Azkaban, he’s not a threat anymore. 

He remembers hearing of a werewolf attack in a home not far from Grimmauld Place in France, a whole family had been killed, the only survivor being a little girl. He hopes the person responsible for that one is being punished.

“Does it even matter? It’s not like we can do anything.” Lily sinks into herself. 

“Remus is gone, and probably in pain. And there’s nothing we can do to help him.” Sirius swallows the truth, it's a hard rock to swallow.

“What are you saying?” Peter asks, he sounds a bit baffled, “ ‘there’s nothing we can do’ yeah right! Of course there’s something we can do!” 

“Really Pete?” Sirius looks at him, “this isnt a game.”

“I know it’s not.” Peter looks at all of them, “but since when are we the kind of people to just accept things and give up! Sirius, you escaped your incredibly abusive home, and then went back for your brother, all on your own. Last year James became the youngest Quittitch captain in all of Hogwarts history. Lily is muggle born and managed to do better in magic based courses than pure bloods every year, even in first year with a significant disadvantage. Mary, you consistently prove everyone wrong with their assumptions about you. Marlene is the best Quidditch player at school, and everyone told her in first year that she wouldn’t be good ‘cause she’s a girl. Us marauders became animagi at fifteen years old. We are all so capable of doing all the things we aren’t supposed to be able to, why is this any different?”

“It’s the ministry Pete! What can we do against the ministry?” Sirius is tired of this, he doesn’t want to play pretend, to get his hopes up. But a small part of him… no.

“We go up against Hogwarts every time we pull a prank. And maybe there isn’t anything we can do, and that sucks!” This is a new side of Peter, “but how do we know that when we haven’t even tried? Don’t you at least want to try?” 

“Try what?” Sirius wants to believe it, and Peter isn’t wrong. They don’t give up easily, and they haven’t tried at all. They all just accepted there was nothing they could do.

“I don’t know,” Peter shrugs, “but something.”

“We should at least try.” Lily says, “I mean we are some of the strongest witches and wizards in the school, we can figure something out. That map of yours is an incredible feat of magic that I’m sure we could rewire, and the animagi thing… still a bit crazy if I’m honest. James has an invisibility cloak. Marlene has a way to get some information through her father. Sirius’ name can get him pretty much anything, disowned or not. Mary has read an insane amount of mystery and heist books. Peter is an incredible liar, and is scary good at reading people. I have permission to get into the restricted section at the library, and I was talking with McGonagall about a ministry internship. If we go about this all the right way I’m sure we can figure something out.”

“I mean, if we successfully did the animagus potion, we could probably brew any potion.” James thinks aloud.

“With my prefect badge I can get in pretty much anywhere.” Lily adds.

“Dorcus is friends with a girl who knows Rita Skeeter.” Marlene says. “And my dad has worked with her. She’s only a junior journalist for the profit but she seems to always know everything.”

“My dad has a lot of connections, I’m sure he knows people involved too.” James is counting something on his fingers. He gasps, “and Wormtail can get past any kind of wards!”

“Yeah I really need to know more about this animagus stuff.” Lily interrupts.

“You know what I need to know more about?” Mary smirks, she looks over at Sirius, “that kiss.”

The room gets a bit quiet. They hadn’t talked about it. Sirius knows nobody else in the great hall saw it, but his friends all did. Nobody had brought it up, and Sirius didn’t really want them too. He didn’t want to think about how that might have been his only chance, his last one, and it hadn't really been anything. And yet, it had been everything. Sirius thought about it every time he thought about Remus, and he was always thinking about Remus. 

He didn’t know what to say, so he just said, “it wasn’t supposed to happen like that.” Because it wasn’t. They were supposed to get proper time to figure it out, to learn what they could be. They should have got to kiss for the first time properly, in a moment with just the two of them. Up late hiding together in one of their four posters, up in the astronomy tower under the moon and the stars, in the hospital wing after a full moon when Remus was the most clingy. Not as a goodbye. Not as an end to something but as a start,

Peter puts his hand on Sirius’ shoulder, because he knows, of course he knows.

“But don’t you guys see!” Peter changes the subject, “If we just think about it for a bit I’m sure we can figure something out, to help him in some way, to make sure he’s okay, to… I don’t know, something.”

“To break him out.” Sirius says, “get him out of that place and back to us.” What else would they try for?

“Him, and anyone else who we can help.” James says. Go big or go home. 

Sirius feels a bit of a smile grow on his face, a small one, a hesitant one, but it’s there. Because they are going to save Remus. Whatever they do is going to work.

They are going to save Remus.

~~~

Cosette barely takes her eyes off Remus. She wants him to wake up. He wakes up for a little bit, but it’s not real being awake, it’s fake being awake.

She called for him as he went, she remembers. “Louka,” she called, he’s not Louka, Louka  is gone. 

He looks like Louka, curly brown hair. Louka’s was darker. But Remus has all the marks on him, last time Cosette saw Louka he was covered in marks too. She has one of those marks too, but hers looks like teeth. 

The same teeth that the monster had, the same monster that comes back every month she thinks, or else why would it hurt so much and why can’t she remember anything but the monster. Deep down she knows. She’s a monster too now. The real monster is gone and now it’s just her. But Madame Portia is the same monster too, and she’s nice sometimes, she gives Cosette food. The food tastes bad, it makes her stomach hurt. Mr.Volkov is also a monster, and he’s never hurt anyone. They probably think she doesn’t listen to them, but she does. She doesn’t always know what to say. Elle est effrayée, elle a froid, et elle est fatiguée.

She was learning how to speak the language that the others always speak in school, they didn’t speak it a lot in her house, they lived far away from the big cities. Louka was good at English, but she wasn’t. She is getting better now, she thinks. Louka would be proud of her. 

“Être intelligent et gentil, petite soeur” he would always say. “Défendez toujours vos intérêts,” and she did. But here it was hard, because she’s scared and cold and tired. 

Maybe Remus will be proud of her too. When he wakes up.

“Please eat, we don’t know when the food will be back.” Madame Portia is handing her a bread slice. She’s sitting beside Cosette, she whispers , “if you don’t eat it, Douglas will take it.” 

Douglas is the scary one. He took some of Mr.Volkovs food. She takes the bread from Madam Portia. 

Madam Portia has the marks too. Mama had the marks. Mama also had a baby in her tummy. Madam Portia isn’t like mama, mama was quiet and waited nicely. Madam Portia isn’t always very good at waiting.

But Remus is like Louka, which is why he needs to wake up for real soon. He’s been sleeping for more than a day… she thinks, time feels weird here and she doesn’t like it.

Papa wasn’t as nice as mama, papa had to go to his job a lot. But he brought home sweets sometimes so it was okay. Papa didn’t go to work the day the monster came. It was her birthday so they all had a big cake after diner. It had a six on it because she is six. 

She eats her bread slowly, she’s not very hungry. The walls make her sick.

Remus isn’t Louka, because she can hear Remus’ heart beat.

She waits for Remus to wake up.

~~~

They dedicate planning for after dinners. They would all meet in the astronomy towers and they would come up with a plan. 

They told nobody else, they started going to classes more, they stopped trying to argue with people talking bad about Remus. 

It would take a while to come up with a proper plan to break into the ministry, but they could do it. At least come up with a plan, that they could do. Executing the plan however, would be more difficult. 

Lily found maps of the ministry in the restricted section, which they tasked Peter with redrawing onto parchment so they could use similar magic that they used on the marauders map. 

Marlene asked her dad to tell her everything he knew about H.O.W.L, under the guise of it being for a school project. And also kept track of every article or newspaper that had any information on it about the ministry or the department of dark creatures through Dorcas’ friends’ connection to Skeeter.

James talked to his dad, and asked for every contact he had within the ministry for his hair care brand. He organized meetings or floo conversations with them, he wanted to start his own business after Hogwarts and wanted to talk to other like minded businessmen.

Sirius and Peter looked through spell books and potions books, finding any that would be helpful. Some books from the seventh year curriculums, others from the restricted section. They rewrote every spell, curse, and/or potion into a notebook that they hid underneath Remus’ bed. Sirius still slept in Remus’ bed every night. 

Lily found every book she could find about the ministry and with Mary they read every bit, compiling anything they might need to know. From officials to departments to history, they learned everything. 

Mary found everything she could on the publicly known officials with the department of dark creatures. Who had families, who worked there longest, who was new, who had known Remus’ father. 

They didn’t bother Remus’ mum. They knew Effie was at her home so she was never alone, Fleamont over there when he wasn’t handling work stuff. She had comfort and company. 

Some days they didn’t even think about if it was possible, they just worked. Maybe it would, maybe it wouldn’t. 

But they had hope. Because if they didn’t, they had nothing.

~~~

Remus was out for what had been made to seem like two days, but who really knows how long it was. Portia had saved a carrot for him from the last meal and he ate it gratefully. His body still hurts. 

Cosette had waited for him, and when he woke up he was greeted with her hugging him as tight as she could.

That was a couple of hours ago, now it’s “night time” he keeps bringing his hand up to the side of his head where his hair is buzzed, he didn’t notice it on the rest of them before, but it’s there. Cosette’s long hair with the section behind her ear not going much further past her jaw. On Douglas and Caliban he can see it a bit too, more noticeably on Douglas than any of the others. He couldn’t tell with Portia, all her hair went down equally past her shoulders. He knew she had been here for a while but… but if she had been here long enough for her hair to grow that much, how was she only a few months pregnant?

He didn’t want to ask… but…

He’s leaning against the wall, trying to resist clawing his arm open to take the object out. He had a feeling trying to take it out would only make it worse, they were breaking him already. He thought he was stronger than this, but his brain was already telling him to give up. 

“Still up, kid?” It’s Caliban. He’s sitting beside Portia, who's lightly snoring. 

“Yeah… can’t sleep.” He says, careful not to wake Cosette, gently tucked against his side. He still doesn’t know what he did for her to trust him so openly, but he will protect her with every bone in his body. 

“It’s hard, the first time.” He says. He stands up, going over to sit beside Remus, he’s not too close, but he’s there. “Paranoid about what they’ve put in you?” He asks. Remus nods. “I can answer half of that.” He gestures to the right side of Remus’ head, where the shaved part is, with the metal slip. “That one, some kind of cursed object, lets em’ talk to you, control you a bit. I’ve had one for a while, then it stopped working, so they had to replace it.”

“A while?” Remus decides he’ll ask the slightly rude questions to Caliban, he seems like the type to answer them without insult because he would ask them to.

“I was registered, been this way for… about thirty years.” He starts. “Few years ago they changed their systems. When you came in on full moons they started keeping you longer and longer the next day, until you were spending weeks locked up at a time. Then they added the little,” he points his finger around his own spot by his ear, “then the one in the arm. I knew they were building up to something, but had no idea what. It’s not like they are gonna tell the beast what they plan to do to it.”

“Oh, that’s…” Remus isn’t sure what to say. He’s spent the last few years full moons as normal, some with his friends even a bit enjoyable once the pain passed. 

“Yeah. Portia’s in a similar boat, though she’s only been bit a few years back.” The look in Caliban's eyes shifts as he looks over at her. “That’s how we met, coming here every month, then staying in a cell like this together. She hated my guts at first, but I grew on her,” he chuckled to himself, “I always do.” 

“I didn’t realize they did that.” Remus says, “I uh, never registered, didn’t plan to once I became of age either.” 

“Would’ve been a good plan.” Caliban sighs, “you weren’t hurting anybody?”

“Ha, only myself.” Remus rolls his eyes, he knows Caliban won’t scold him for the joke as his friends would.

“Yeah, that’s how it goes sometimes.” Caliban groans as he moves his position a bit, “old joints,” he explains, “Portia was in a rough spot, she lost most of the people in her life after the attack, making a lot of rough decisions. We had her for dinner once a week to make sure she was eating, she wouldn’t accept much more help than that.” He sighs, “she told us about the baby at one dinner, and we said we’d support her through all of it. I thought she’d spiral, but she decided to put more effort into getting her life together. The next week she didn’t show up to dinner.” 

“That’s… tough.” Remus couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Yeah, it can be,” he says “now, what’s your story, kid?”

“My story?” Remus asks.

“Or part of it anyway, I gave you part of mine, you give me part of yours, that’s how this works.” He closes his eyes and leans back, “you’ve never been in jail before clearly.”

“I mean… not much to tell.” Remus shrugs, “ministry came to Hogwarts, filled the halls and the air with silver. I felt sick and horrible the whole time but tried to stay hidden. It was wishful thinking, I knew that I couldn’t have stayed hidden forever.”

“Hmm… oddly undramatic for them.” Caliban says, “took me in the middle of me and my wife’s anniversary dinner. My daughter came with her family to surprise us. Instead, I surprised my grandkids by being hauled out of my home like a dangerous criminal.”

“That’s horrible,” Remus leans his head back, “it was a bit dramatic, at dinner, they had an announcement and everything. I knew it was coming but there was nothing I could do. I told my friends that I loved them, and I…” he shouldn’t say that part, he didn’t know if it would be safe to say all of it, and he didn’t want to make up lies if Caliban asked questions, and he didn’t want to relive it. If he ever say Sirius again, Sirius would kill him for doing it like that. It was supposed to be different.

“And you…” Caliban prompted with a wave of his hand.

“I said goodbye to them all,” Remus continued, “and that was it. I woke up here.” 

It’s quiet for a moment, just the two of them enjoying the silence. Remus was growing to like Caliban. Not that he disliked him before, he was just apathetic. It’s Caliban who breaks the silence.

“I used to teach at Hogwarts.” He says. It’s quiet, spoken like a secret. 

“Oh yeah?” Remus urges him to keep talking, he knows the urge to get something off of your chest.

“Yeah,” he sighs, “Defence Against the Dark Arts. I loved that job.”

“That class is cursed, no teachers stayed longer than a year since… a long time.” Remus had professors that he liked, others not so much. But he didn’t like the skipping and overlapping of curriculum every year. He did, however, think he would have quite liked having Professor Volkov teaching defence.

“Hmm… well that must be newer than I am, because I worked there for nine years.” He smiles at that, “in a perfect world, I’d like to think I’d still be there, teaching.” 

“Why’d you stop?” Remus asks, but from the fall of Caliban's face, he regrets it.

“My home is not too far outside of the town,” he starts regaining some old tale, a misty look in his eyes, “but it is on the edge of a forest. I heard a noise outside in the middle of the night, so I went to go check it out. It was my daughter sneaking in from a party, one me and my wife told her she couldn’t go to. I was about to scold her when a werewolf jumped out of the bush at us, I went in front of her and told her to run inside the house. I had kept him off for a while with spells, but eventually he pounced and snapped my wand.” He shivers, “I was defenceless after that. I thought I was going to die, but I also thought, ‘you know what? I got my Sofie safe, and that’s all that matters isn’t it?’ But she had gotten her own wand, and scared him off before he could finish me off. She saved my life. But she was a bit too late.

“That was a mid-term break. I got a letter from Hogwarts saying that they give their condolences, but will be finding a replacement for me at the start of term.”

When he finished his story, Remus was mad. Not only for him but at Hogwarts, at whomever had been in charge. But he too had been worried if he would be allowed at Hogwarts.

“My da used to work at the ministry.” Remus starts, he isn’t sure why. But this is how it works, if someone else shares with you, then you share with them. “Department of Dark Creatures. Quite well respected too.” Caliban grunts, Remus continues, “he was interviewed for a paper and said some… rough things about werewolves. Fenrir Greyback found out and decided to teach him a lesson, but instead of going after my da, he went after me. I was a month away from my fifth birthday.”

“Greyback himself, huh?” is all Caliban says.

“Yeah, I’m special or whatever,” Remus waves his hand in dismissal, but Caliban laughs at him. Remus likes this guy's sense of humor. “Da left a few months later, packed his bags and left in the night. Leaving a five year old werewolf to be raised by his muggle wife. My mum did her best, but she was never really prepared to raise a wizarding child, no less a monstrous one.” 

“Isn’t that what all mothers do?” He says, “no matter the circumstances, they are all just trying their best.” He snorts, “I know that’s what fatherhood is.”

Remus’ father didn’t try his best, he quit, gave up, he didn’t try. Sirius’ parents didn’t try their best, what they did was far from that. But good parents, Remus’ mum, James’ parents, Peter’s parents, they tried their best. 

“How old is your daughter?” Remus’ finds himself asking, he doesn’t want to talk about himself anymore, or be reminded of his father.

Caliban smiles, “my Rosie’s all grown up now, she’s got her own life now. It doesn’t matter what Portia tries to tell you, she doesn’t need me anymore. Me and Margret did a good job with that one.”

“Her family? She's got kids?” Remus likes seeing Caliban smile, he’s been so stoic the whole time Remus has known him. Which isn’t long… probably, but it feels like it’s been forever.

“Three of em’.” Calibans got an off look in his eyes, love mixed with grief, “the oldest, Joanna, she’s twenty. Brilliant kid that one. Then Flora is at Hogwarts, she’d be in…” he thinks for a moment, “you’re in year six?” He asks.

“Yeah, uh…” he knows that name. He didn’t know her for long, but he remembers her being nice, for the most part. “Flora Kennedy? She’s a Ravenclaw, right?”

“Yes a Ravenclaw,” he smiles, “I was a Ravenclaw back in my day.” He sighs, “Stella’s the youngest, third year, she’s a Gryffindor like you.”

“How did you know I was a Gryffindor?” Remus askes, “I never told you?” 

“How could I not know you are a Gryffindor?” Caliban sounds shocked, “what else would you be? 

Remus shrugs, “I don’t know,” 

“My second guess was Ravenclaw, but I know you fought too much on your way in here,” he points at the burn marks still around Remus’s arms and legs, “very Gryffindor of you to fight against a losing battle, not very Ravenclaw.”

“Ha.” Remus lets the sarcasm through, he likes that he feels he doesn’t have to edit what he wants to say with Caliban, the old man seems to appreciate his dry humor. 

“You aren’t nice enough to be a Hufflepuff, and just one look at you says you aren’t Slytherin.” He thinks for a minute, “my Rosie was a Slytherin, a surprise to me and my wife, we were both Ravenclaws.” He smirks at Remus, “but if you ask me, she belonged there more than I did.” 

“Your wife?” Remus asks, he just wants Caliban to keep talking, he’s had a nice life it seems. He doesn’t even seem spiteful that he can’t have it back, just happy it happened. Remus isn’t spiteful either, he’s mad.

“My Margaret, we’ve been married for fifty years. We met in school, and I’ll admit that at first,” he says, “I was not a fan of hers.”

“No?” Remus can’t help but laugh

“Not at all!” He smiles and he looks young again, Remus can almost picture what he would have looked like way back when. “She was way smarter than me, and picked up magic way faster despite being muggleborn. She beat me in every class.” He looks down, his right hand drifting over to his left, running a finger over where clearly a ring used to be. “She would gloat about it too, always a prideful one. I vowed I would beat her one day, and thought about her practically all the time. Then one day…” he gets a glossy look in his eyes, “but slowly we became friends—her best friend was dating my best friend, really a surprising pair, those two— and it just happened. The day that I realized the way I was thinking about her had changed, it was terrifying.” Remus knew the feeling, “I don’t even remember how we got together, we just were. Sandra and Thomas didn’t last, but we did, those two were the maid of honour and best man at our wedding.” He sighs, “even on the days we fight, I’m glad to have her in my life. You get yourself someone like that,” he nudges Remus, “someone who makes everyday just a bit better.

Remus just nods. He thought he had that, or would get to at least. Now he won’t. Even if he and Sirius had to only be friends, he would have had it. James and Peter were a part of that too. But mostly Sirius. 

Caliban keeps talking, but Remus can’t hear it. He’s too mad to notice. 

He’s mad that he’s lost his whole life. He’s mad that he is never going to get the future he so naively believed in. He is mad that Caliban is here. Mad that he is stuck here suffering instead of being with his family and wife. He’s mad that Cosette is here. Mad that she even is a lycanthrope in the first place, that’s no life for a child— he would know. Mad that she’s not with her family who would miss her, even more mad that it’s more likely they abandoned her too. He’s mad that Portia was thrown in here, mad that she didn’t get the chance to rebuild the life she probably lost. Mad that if her baby is born in here it probably won’t survive, if the baby is even born in the first place. He’s even mad for Douglas. That Douglas became a horrible person, that people like him make the world harder for people like Caliban, and Portia, and Cosette, and Remus. He’s mad at whatever events lead to Douglas becoming who he is. 

He’s angry. 

Angry that they are stuck here together, that they will never get to go back to the lives that were stolen from them. That he is constantly in pain. That he even believed he would get to have a good life. That he will probably die here. Just like everyone else in this prison will.

He wonders how many others there are. How many others are stuck in this place? How many other people were stolen from their lives because of a rock in the sky? Because of the animal they are forced to become because of whatever tragedy had led them there. 

He’s angry at the ministry for doing this.e’s angry at wizarding society for believing the constant threads of lies. He’s angry at his dad for doing this to him and then leaving like a coward, he’s angry at people like Dire—Douglas for playing a part in ruining life for the rest of them. He’s angry at everyone, everything, and anything within grasp. 

He’s angry at himself.

He’s angry that he let himself get into this situation, that he can’t do anything to save any of them, that he let himself believe that his life could be any different, that this isn’t where he was going to end up no matter what. 

“Hey, kid?” Caliban pulls Remus out of his head. He looks over at him. “You went somewhere for a second.”

“Uh…” Remus tries to speak, but his bottom lip is quivering too much, tears form in his eyes and he’s helpless against it. “I just… I hate that I let myself think I’d be able to have a life.” He tried to pull back the tears before they fell, to no luck, “this was always where I was going to end up.”

Caliban puts a hand on Remus’ shoulder, “I can’t say that might not be true, because we are here aren’t we?” he gives Remus’s shoulder a soft squeeze, “but there must have been a reason you believe it. Let’s be grateful you had that.” 

Remus can hear it in his voice. The way that his words aren’t only directed to Remus but himself as well. He lets the tear fall, and lets himself lean on Caliban's side. Remus thinks if this is the end? Everything else was worth it.

~~~

Effie sits beside Hope on the couch, flipping through old photo albums together. Monty brought some of theirs over a few hours ago when he visited before work, but it had taken a while for Hope to have the courage to pull out her own.

Euphemia understood. Hope was grieving the loss of her child. Whether he was dead or not, he was gone. No matter what was happening right now, Hope had lost her son. Effie wouldn’t have been able to survive that, she’s not always so sure that Hope will either.

The photo albums are vastly different. While Effie had mostly magic pictures, Hope only had a few pictures from Remus’ baby days, but most are muggle. The last wizarding image was from Remus’ fourth birthday. It was sad to see. Remus without the scars, fully happy, not even a hint of that distant look he sometimes has in his eyes when everything goes quiet. Of course Effie had only known Remus a small while compared to his own mother and the first time she had met him was when he was 13, but she had always felt protective of him.

She noticed how he seemed to move slower than his friends, how he seemed to get sick, or ill quite often. How he was quieter than his friends, and sometimes, when he would visit, she would catch him on his own, a look in his eyes almost like he wasn’t really there. How every time she saw him his scars seemed to grow. She didn’t know what had been causing them until she overheard James and Peter talking over this summer. She told Monty of course, but not out of fear for her son, but of hope that maybe in all his potion knowledge he had learned something that may help the poor boy. She was disappointed when she got the answer that she knew she would get in the first place. 

Hope's photo album had very little family photos, most just of Remus through the years. A few with Hope's grandparents, every once and while she would be in one. But mostly, it was just Remus. Remus at all of his birthdays before Hogwarts— except his fifth— Remus on first days of school, on a farm with some sheep. (Hope explained that it was her parents place, despite now living just outside of Cardiff, she grew up way out in the country on a farm.) There are a few empty spots in Remus’ younger years, places where there must have been photos at some point but not anymore. Effie assumes those must have been ones with Lyall in them. 

Effie in turn shared her own photos. A few more family portraits, with just the three of them and with the whole extended family. She found ones she had even forgotten taking. She found one from last year at the beginning of the school year. It’s the boys all in front of the train, James was smiling so brightly with one arm around Peter and the other around Remus, pulling him down slightly to be able to reach. Sirius hadn’t quite gotten there yet, so the picture caught him running in halfway through, joining by Peter and pushing them so they all squished together struggling not to fall. 

The smiles on all their faces were so big. Sirius had looked outright emaciated in the picture, Effie had never seen him worse— until he showed up tumbling through their fireplace that Christmas Eve, not even one year ago, it felt like ages— but his smile was so big it counteracted all that. Remus’ smile for pictures had always been small, tight pursed lips with his eyes barely changing, (Effie had seen it in many of Hopes pictures as well) but when Sirius came in and they all crushed together the camera caught a real smile, showing his teeth and eyes slipping almost closed, dimples on his cheeks. He looked so young. He was young. He still was.

He is young and he is gone. Is or was? Effie didn’t know, and she didn’t know which one was better either. Alive and suffering… or dead and safe? Thinking either made her feel horrible. Either way he was gone, so did it even matter? 

Of course it matters, she scolds herself for thinking any differently. 

She finds her old wedding photos, her and Monty both so young and happy, but she skipped past most of those, those were for later. One may argue that Hope had changed from a single mother to a single woman, but to Effie, Hope would always be a mother. She had raised a smart, kind, and wonderful boy. It’s a terrible shame that she wasn’t ever able to finish the job, to ever get to see him grow the rest of the way up, like any mother should.

The whole time Hope has been silently crying, a slow stream of tears down her face, eyes watering and unwavering. But the dam breaks when they find one hidden in the very back of one album. It’s a picture of a small dog, no, a wolf, in a concrete room, there’s a cuff around his back leg attaching him to the wall by a chain. The wolf doesn’t look angry or aggressive, just sad and lonely. He's looking just past the camera at someone behind it, at Hope, something that can only be described as desperation in his eyes. His cuffed ankle bleeding from the metal digging into his skin, claw marks on his side leaking blood, a few more on his front leg. That’s when Hope starts bawling.

“I just wanted to see…” she chokes out, “Lyall said that was what we had t-to do. I wanted to see what my baby was suffering from.” She gasps for air, tears dripping into the album sitting between their laps. “I wanted- to see if my baby was truly a monster. But- but I never s-saw a monster.”

Effie pulls her put close, letting Hope bury her head in Effie’s shoulder. She can’t fight the tears in her own eyes, Hope is right, that wolf isn’t an aggressive creature, just a scared one, locked in a basement, chained up and in pain.

Effie stares at the picture, and she wonders how that precious child could ever be seen as a monster. He’s just a baby, and he’s so terrified. 

Effie wants to wish that he’s never caged and in pain again, but she knows that it’s probably happened a hundred times over.

~~~

The longer they stay in here, the more withdrawn Douglas gets, they start dragging him away more, and he fights them each time. The rest of them have stopped asking him how he feels after.

Food gets scarcer, and the “good” stuff gets worse, more metallic, more poisonous. Douglas is getting unsatisfied with it, at some point it slowly shifts to Caliban giving him even more of his portions; he won’t let Portia or the kids get rid of any. He’s losing the concept of his own value.

They drag Remus away too. The second time he fought it. Then he didn’t wake up for five meals. The third time he gave up, he gave in to the torture. He was only out for two meals then, he decided that was better.

Cosette gets a bit more talkative too. Sometimes at night she will whisper to Remus, asking him not to leave her again. He's stopped saying that he won’t. She says that she misses mama and papa, murmurs about a Louka in her sleep. Louka is the name she calls out when they take Remus. Remus can’t help but wonder who she keeps mistaking him for. 

Sometimes she will ask him questions. What was school like? What did he do with his friends? Did he know how to bake cookies? What was his favourite colour? 

Once she asked him if he could plait hair, and of course he didn’t know. She let Portia do it, tying them at the ends with little bows made from taking extra fabric from the bottom of Cosette’s way too big shorts. (they hung down past her knees.) That was the closest she had let any of them get to her other than Remus.

Portia seemed to get worse. She’s getting paler and slower, but fights hard against showing it. They never take Cosette, she’s too little, or maybe they don’t care and she’s just not of use to them. They don’t drag Portia away like they do the others either, Remus can’t tell if it’s whether they care that she’s pregnant, or if the baby she’s carrying has tainted her to them and that’s punishment enough. Caliban's only been taken once, he tells Remus one night that he’s damaged goods to them, too old, too withered. Caliban also tells Remus that he is exactly what they are looking for. For once Remus doesn’t want to be wanted. But they keep dragging him away anyway.

He notices the voices that Caliban mentioned, the cursed metal by his ear. When he tries to fight back, they tell him to stop, it’s so loud that he obeys. When he’s been unconscious too long it shouts to wake him up. There’s a low rumbling every night, he sleeps very little. Sometimes he doesn’t do anything. He’s sitting there watching Caliban stretch and hears a shout that he’s worthless and a beast. It’s getting harder to fight against it.

Remus doesn’t want to stop fighting, but he knows he already has.

~~~

It’s been ten days since they started plotting, fifteen days since he was taken. They are in the astronomy tower.

“My dad says they keep them in separate blocks. Three to five werewolves together. They think if they put too many together they will form packs and revolt.” Marlene says.

There are diagrams of the ministry all over the floor, half of them in open books, the other half redrawn versions on parchment. Peter’s working on another one as they speak.

“Just wait till we get there, then.” Sirius smirks. He’s been better since they started this. He goes to class, even if only to try and seem like they aren't up to something.

“On all of the maps there isn’t an area that could work like that. It must be new.” Lily adds, “we need to find a way to get blueprints of another area, probably a basement or something.”

“The archives probably have them,” James says, “they aren’t trying to hide what they are doing so why would they hide their blueprints?”

Lily is studying the maps in front of her, “all major wizarding buildings have to have their blueprints in the archive, its regulation.”

“Yeah.” Mary rolls her eyes, “but the archives aren’t at Hogwarts, and we have no way of leaving.” 

“Floo?” Sirius asks.

“The school shut down the floo network in all places but Dumbledore's office after they caught people sneaking out.” Marlene has her hair tied up in a bun with her wand, Sirius showed her how to do it and it’s been her go-to hairstyle since.

“We can’t fly all the way over either, that would take over twenty four hours to get there and back, they would know we had left.” James sighs.

“My step-uncle works with the archives.” Peter looks up, breaking his own focus, “we aren’t super close but he’s a nice guy, so maybe he could help.”

Lily hums, “no bad in trying. But be casual about it, asking if they have any new ones. The ones here are all from before 71’.”

“What else do we have?” James asks.

Sirius pulls out a book from behind him, “this is the book we used to find the animagus potion.” He drops in infront of him, a gust of air pushes the loose papers away.

“But we accidentally destroyed it?” Peter goes back to his map. 

“Yes, true.” Sirius runs a hand over the cover. “And they had no extra copies in the restricted section. BUT Andy owns a wizarding library so I wrote to her, and she managed to get a hold of one for me!” 

“Yes!” James gives Sirius a high five, “Andromeda Tonks for the win!” 

“What other things were in it?” Mary asks, “if it’s such a rare book?”

“Polyjuice potion, Felix Felicis, Elixir of Life, an amplified version of the Drought of Living Death.” Peter lists off his fingers without looking up from the maps. “Few other ones, but it’s all powerful stuff they won’t teach us.”

“Damn.” Marlene goes back to reading her books.

They’ve almost done all the research they can, so tomorrow is when they start planning.

~~~

Caliban keeps an eye on Remus. 

It’s silly, really. He knows that. It doesn’t matter how many late night conversations they have or how much Caliban has started care for him, it doesn’t take them out of the silver prison they have been trapped in.

He knows this place well enough to read what’s happening, he knows they’ve (Disgustingly) taken an interest in Remus, just like he knew they stopped caring about him and some of the others. 

He knew it like when he knew Ciara, the woman who was with them before Remus, had died on the ministry’s newest attempt at their plan. He knew it like he knew that Douglas maybe wasn’t as innocent in his own life as he claimed to be. He knew it like he knew all those months ago that one day he wasn’t going to be allowed home anymore. He knew it like he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to see Margaret again.

Yes, he missed her, and yes they didn’t get a proper goodbye. But he had gotten fifty wonderful years with her, he got to raise their wonderful daughter, and see her grow up, and got to spend so much time with his darling granddaughters. He had gotten to live his life. He had lived it to the fullest.

Is this how he wanted to go out? Heavens no. But his time has come, and he doesn’t have any regrets. Doesn’t have anything he missed out on.

Remus does.

Portia does.

Cosette does.

Hell, even Douglas does, as much as he hates to admit it. 

It’s late at night when Caliban is startled awake by the voices in his head. The first curse had malfunctioned after so long, perhaps this new one already had begun too aswell, or they just liked fucking with his head.

“You are halfway to the moon.” The voices told him. “Who are you going to hurt this time? Only you?” It taunted. “Or the boy?” It teased. “Or your dearest Portia?” It hissed. “Maybe the girl?” It gripped at his skull.

He had figured out what it must be. A reincarnation of his own thoughts and fears. At this point he had gotten used to it. He knew his fears were irrational. Sometimes they had said he was going to hurt his wife. Margaret wasn’t here, thank Merlin, and he had never hurt his wife, and neither had the wolf. 

The wolf had met Margaret once, his first full moon, they hadn’t known if the lycanthropy would have caught or not. He had lost his job, and he taught Defence so of course he knew the statistics, everything pointed that it had caught, but a small part of them had hope that it wouldn’t have. They went down to the cellar in the basement, the plan was that if he started to transform then Margaret would close the door quickly and lock it tight with wards. All Caliban remembered is the pain that hit him in that cellar, and the pain he felt when he came back, except then he was in his bed.

He got the story from Margaret. When he started to change she panicked and froze, she didn’t close the door. But when the wolf saw her, he slowly walked to her feet and laid down, fur covering her toes. He sighed and looked up at her, and in that moment she had known that he was never going to hurt her. So she got him to stand up and lead him upstairs to their room. She said that he had woken a few times, to pace the room and whine while looking out the window, but he always crawled back in with her after, curled up in a ball beside her. 

He registered because he knew the risks, he had done the job for many years. He knew that might change one day, he didn’t want to risk it. When he spent his first full moon in the ministry is when he hurt himself. But it was worth it, he’d feel as much pain as he needed to if it meant keeping his family safe.

The voices finally started to die down, when Portia gasped awake. Her face squished in pain and she held her stomach. The baby had been moving more lately, Portia had been moving less. She was doing rough, even with the circumstances. Caliban knew the risks, not every woman survived this, and not every baby did either, even in the perfect conditions. And these were far from perfect. 

After a moment she looks over at him and their eyes meet. She flashes him a weak smile. 

“Anything I can do?” He asks, but not too loudly. Remus and the girl are asleep soundly not too far away. She’s tucked into his side and he’s got his arms around her protectively. Douglas is too, the only reason he would rather not wake him is to avoid his anger.

“Ha! No.” She rests her forehead on her hand. “She calms down after a bit.”

“Still convinced it’s a girl?” He asks, Portia had let ‘she’ slip once while talking about the baby, and Caliban reminds her of it. He doesn’t like that she tried to intentionally refer to the baby as an ‘it’. He knows it’s her trying to cope, trying to separate it from herself, but he also knows that it’s something she’s trying so hard to do against her will. As much as the pregnancy was a shock to her, Caliban knew it from the look in her eyes the day she told him, she loves that kid dearly. 

She sighs, her body unmoving but her mind running laps around the room, Caliban lets the silence sit. Deciding to let her stew. If he pushes her she’ll retreat. 

“What I’m doing is stupid.” She finally says, “being so cautious to stay alive… there isn’t a point to it.”

Caliban had been sensing this conversation for a while, it’s not like this is the first time it’s happened either. He knows how to handle it, but maybe one day he will stop trying anymore, because maybe that’s what would be better for her. Maybe that’s what would finally bring her peace.

“In what way?” He asks. He asks that instead of pulling her into a hug and begging for her to keep fighting, to keep suffering for a little bit longer, to keep being his friend.

“It would be easy,” she mumbles, “sort the food wrong, eat the bad stuff instead of the less bad stuff…” she trails off, “I would never be able to bring myself to do it,” the hand on her stomach twitches, “it would be easier for her to, wouldn’t it?” And that’s when the words spill out. “Wouldn’t it be? For all of us. We aren’t getting back our lives, we just are here, day and night, forever. It would be easier for her too, I don’t know if she will carry the beast like I do, but having that for a mother? Carrying a beast like that as a baby? I can’t even imagine what it was like for Remus and the girl, both so young, and still young. Douglas brought this on to himself so I couldn’t possibly give less of a shit about him. But what are we even doing here alive? What’s the point? Feed their plot until they kill us? She’s going to die anyway so does it matter how it happens? I’M going to die anyway. But every time we get food I think about it, what if I just let someone else split the food, what if I make a fuss and let them decide I’m a problem, one flick of a wand and the tube in my arm kills me. But I can never do it. I don't think I ever could. I want to live, Cal, but if something else were to come into play and put a stop to that… it scares me to think that I wouldn’t try and fight it.”

Caliban doesn’t want to say, she’s speaking differently than before, she wants to live. She finally wants to live and it’s when she’s being denied the chance to. The scary part is that this time, he knows exactly how she feels.

~~~

The Ministry speaks on the backlash against their newest legislation.

A new interview with Clyde Carlson, head of the department of dark creatures and magic has given more insight to what they have plans for with the newly instated H.O.W.L initiative. When asked many of the common questions that wizarding folk had, here’s what he had to say…

Question: What is the purpose of H.O.W.L, and why now?

Carlson: The purpose of H.O.W.L is simply to protect our citizens against these half breeds, the threat has gone on long enough. With the numbers of lycanthropic acts of violence increasing to numbers unseen since before Fenrir Greyback was placed in Azkaban, we knew now was the time do fight back against this plaguing our society.

Question: Are we, as citizens, at risk or unsafe now? What if a human gets captured instead?

Carlson: The people of Europe are safe, and only getting safer the longer we act on this issue. We assure you that any human that interacts with one if our officials is in the highest level of protection and safety in that moment. Our goal is to capture and detain monsters, not innocent witch’s and wizards.

Question: Once in captivity, what is going to happen to the werewolves?

Carlson: While it is the ministry’s belief that knowing such information would not be beneficial to wizarding society as whole, I will tell you that the silver humanity buried deep inside the beasts isn’t what is being harmed. Our intent is to not only help our citizens, but also to help these monsters back to being who they are supposed to be, in any way we can.

Question: How can you be sure they are all criminals?

Carlson: By not registering, like many of them haven’t, they are committing a crime. There is a reason this disease spreads, the ones spreading it have committed a crime. Every single one of them has committed or at the least harmed others in one way or another, even if only by fooling their way into infiltrating safe spaces. 

Carlson's final words: We understand the uncertainty that you must be feeling, and we understand the fear of knowing these creatures walk among us. We want to encourage you all to live your lives as you always have, many— if not most— of these threats have now been imprisoned for their crimes and harmful deeds. As we continue to bring safety to the people of the Europe, we ask you to please respect our officials as they work, and if someone from your life goes missing, just think about how much they have been lying to you about what they really are.

~~~

Peter throws the paper across the astronomy tower.

“It’s bullshit!” He yells. He’s been doing a lot of that lately, and frankly he is not a fan. 

Sirius looks like he’s about to boil, he’s fuming, “the humanity buried inside them?” He snarls, “it’s disgusting.”

Lily pushes a pile of books back into the middle of the circle, “it’s fearmongering and propaganda, don’t let it get in your head.”

“It’s going to get in everyone else’s though.” James grumbles. 

Lily doesn’t have anything to say about that. Because it’s true. They may be some of the only people who know the truth. The real villains here are the ministry.

~~~

Sirius is walking back from the quitting pitch with James and Peter, on their way to the astronomy tower, when his ex-girlfriend (or one of them anyway) stomps over to him in a rush.

“Come here.” She says, grabbing Sirius’ wrist and pulling him along, when she notices the others aren’t following, she yells back at them to come. 

It’s been a day since the article was published, it spread through the school like wildfires. Sirius had tried to hide how angry he was, but it had been hard, Sirius had never been good at hiding his feelings.

“What is happening?” He asks, he wasn’t going to fight against her grip, he knew how strong she was, it wasn’t worth putting in the effort just to lose. 

“Just hold on! We need to get somewhere private.” She pulls him into the school, and down a hallway. She stops at a painting of an apple tree.

“Wha-” James is cut off by her shushing him. She looks up and down the corridor and after seeing they are alone, pushes into the painting and it swings inward into the wall. 

She pulls Sirius in and it slams shut behind Peter and James. This secret passage is new, maybe not new, but it’s not on the map. They had thought they had found them all, but if they hadn’t then how many others had they missed? When they got Remus back they would have to go and try and find any other ones they had missed. 

The passage is dark, but from what Sirius can tell isn’t really much of a passage, more like a small room, but it’s too dark and he can’t make out much detail.

“I know you guys are plotting something.” She finally says. “Tell me what it is.” Sirius can picture the look that's probably on her face, a combination of annoyance and arrogance. Whether that’s what she’s actually trying to convey or not Sirius doesn’t know. She’s complicated like that.

“Okay? And? Why do you care?” Sirius knows he’s being a dick. But who does she think she is? She has no right to know what Sirius is up to anymore, it’s been over a year since they broke up. Since she broke up with him , the first (and only) time that’s happened to him. So what business does she have knowing about what Sirius is plotting?

“Ugh!” She groans at him, “just tell me what you are up to!” She casts a Lumos and the room lights up, more of it is visible now. A couple blankets over the tile floor, a couple books piled in a corner, a few notebooks in front of a comfy looking chair. This place is quite lived in, maybe there’s a reason that they hadn’t found it yet, someone hadn’t wanted them to.

“You need to be more specific than that.” He rolls his eyes and knows that she’s doing the same. She hasn’t changed much, her brown hair still pleated back into a ponytail as usual.

“You know what I’m talking about.” There’s something behind her eyes that’s almost sad, “you aren’t an idiot. At least you didn’t use to be.”

“Rude!” Sirius barks back.

“Stop.” James groans, “He’s being a dick and you know it Flora,” he steps forward and gently shoves Sirius back. “we still aren’t telling you anything though.”

“I—” She cuts herself off and her face slips back into the hard to read mask that she wears most of the time. “I just want to help.”

“You… Want to help?” Peter asks, out of all of them he had gotten to know Flora the least, he claimed they just always missed each other, but Sirius knew that he was a bit scared of her. To be fair, Sirius was too.

“Yeah.” The mask is still up, Sirius wonders what is under it. She’s one of the few girls whose relationship with them didn’t end in an explosive fiery wreck. They share a wave in the hallways sometimes. “Maybe you aren’t the only people who hate this. Maybe other people are just as hurt by the ministry’s actions as you are.” There’s venom in her words, and something else too, something just behind the tip of her tongue. 

“Oh wow!” Sirius scoffs, “don’t try to make this about you. What do you even care about Remus anyway?”

She falters then. The mask falls. It cracks and shatters and crumbles on its way to the ground. Underneath it she looks just as shattered as the mask was. Her eyes fall to the floor, “They took my grandad.” 

Oh. That’s… a shock. Sirius doesn’t say anything. Maybe he should. But what is there to say? 

“You aren’t the only one who lost someone from this.” She snaps her head back up at Sirius, “just because you’re loud about your feelings doesn’t mean you are the only one who feels them.” She pushes past him to get to the painting entrance, but James stops her. 

He held out a hand, “I’m sorry about your grandad. And…” he casts a look at Sirius, “I’m sorry for him being as arse, you know how he is.” 

“Unfortunately.” She grumbles.

“Astronomy tower.” Peter says, “every day after dinner.”

“We would like your help.” James pulls Sirius over by the arm, “for your grandad, for Remus, and for so many other people.”

“And…” Peter reaches across James to hit Sirius in the arm (“ow!”) “Sirius would like to apologize for being an arse.” He enunciates every word,  “because he is an arse.”

Sirius sighs, “I’m sorry for being an arse.” He meets her eyes and it feels like a meeting in common ground, “you are right, I’m not the only one who’s hurting. And I’m sorry about your grandad.” He remembers when they were together how she would talk about her family for hours, her family was all really close. She never pried him about his family, and he enjoyed listening to her talk about them. She was one of the few girls he had been with who he actually liked, but that was a long time ago, but if things were different maybe they would have been friends.

She doesn’t say thank you for the apology, she doesn’t acknowledge with anything more than a nod. 

She looks through them all, “see you tonight then?” 

“Yeah.” James holds out a hand to shake and she ignores it walking towards the exit, “oh, and don’t tell anyone about this place, you have enough secret passages, this one’s not for you.” She peaks through a small peephole before pushing open the painting and ushering them all out. 

Sirius goes to open his mouth to say something, anything, but before he gets a chance she turns around and walks away, her short boots clicking gently on the floor. 

“Well… that was…” Sirius watches her leave, “interesting.” 

“And good.” James says, “we need Ravenclaw brains.” 

“But do we really need hers specifically?” Sirius sighs. He knows more help is a good thing, and he knows they can trust her. But maybe he just wants to avoid the level of condescension that comes with working with her. 

~~~

Peter is having dinner with Sybil tonight, and for the first time hanging out with her is worrying him. Since that night they haven’t had much time one on one, and Peter is worried about what will happen if the topic gets brought up. He wouldn’t hold it against her if she thought like everyone else did. It wouldn’t be her fault, methodical misinformation, lack of education, and an overall spread of fear have lead to this. But Peter doesn’t want to face the idea that Sybil might not be as different from everyone else as she usually happens to be. 

He really, really likes Sybil, maybe even loves her, but if it came down to it… he would take Remus’ side over the mass public’s on this. Maybe he doesn’t want to admit that this might be the end of their relationship, maybe that’s why he’s unintentionally been avoiding her these past three weeks. 

But when the letter appeared on their window sill this morning, a “have dinner with me :)” held tight in her owls claws, the inevitable came closer.

He met her at their spot. The marauders had a deal that they could share a secret room or passage way with someone if it was discussed as a group. So a bit after he and Sybil started dating last year he asked if he could tell her of one out in the courtyard. Ever since then, it’s been their spot. Hidden behind a cluster of bushes was the door, Peter had to crawl to fit through, but inside it was tall enough that he could stand. Sybil wasn’t there yet when he entered, which was good. It gave him time to think. 

They had decorated the space a bit, made it their own. Soft blankets on the floor, a sticking charm holding a lanturn up on the ceiling. Sybil had put a small collection of her crystals on a shelf in the corner, she said they protected the space, one kept out bad spirts, one kept back bad auras, another enhanced calmness, and a few others. Peter couldn’t ever remember for the life of him what any of them were called and what specifically did what, but she knew that even if he didn’t say, and she had no problem reminding him every single time. One thing on the shelf wasn’t a crystal, it was a rock, she just liked it because it was shaped like a heart. It was kept under charms to keep it warm in the winter and cool in the summer. Once Sybil had drawn on the wooden board walls, a few flowers in a twist with eachother. In the corner was a book Peter had taken out of the library not long after they made this spot, and at this point it was too long over due to return it. 

He thought about what he would say, should he bring up the werewolf thing, or should he wait for her to? Did he even want to hear what her thoughts were? What was he thinking? Merlin, this was going to go badly. He needed to get out of his head. This was only going to be the most difficult conversation he’s ever had with his wonderful girlfriend, how bad could it be…?

She opens the door and sneaks in, “Hey Petey.” She smiles and it breaks him even more, how could he ever leave someone who looked at him like that?

“Hey.” He greets her with a smile, something she so effortlessly manages to pull out of him.

Her hair is pulled back into a bun, so her earrings are clearly visible. They are long, dangly and made of five rings attached to one another, the way that the light reflects off of them sends colours dancing around the room. They almost reach her shoulders. He got them for her as a gift just before summer started, he knew they wouldn’t be able to see each other until September, so he wanted to get her something so he could still have a way to be close to her.

He had seen them on the last hogsmead weekend of fifth year, when Mary had forced him to go into the jewelry shop with her cause she didn’t want to go alone. “What do you think of these?” He had asked her. “I don’t wear long earrings.” He shook his head, “no, for Sybil.” Mary had then cooed over him and teased him all the way up to the till. But once they left the store she had said, “those are really cute, she will like them.” She had punched him in the arm, “you’re good for her.”

“I brought something for you.” Sybil said as she sat down across from him. “Something other than dinner.” She slid her bag over to reveal an assortment of food she mad snuck from somewhere.

“Oh?” He helped her unpack the food, bread, cheese, A bit of roast, a small collection of vegetables, all neatly wrapped up in napkins. 

“Yeah,” she pulls out to glasses from her bag, “things have sucked lately, like, a lot. You’ve been down, and for good reason don’t get me wrong here. And I know you get up to a lot of trouble sometimes, and I know that nothing I do can really make you feel better and fix any of this. I guess I just, I don’t know… wanted to give you something.”

“I get up to trouble sometimes?” He jokes, taking a glass from her hand to his own. 

She rolls her eyes, “you know what I mean,” and huffs out a small laugh, “I don’t ever know what schemes you up to and I don’t really want to, and I’m not going to stop you either.“

“With James and Sirius colluding on these things it’s a big difficult to.” He smiles at her, why was he ever thinking that she would be on everyone else’s side? Of course she wasn’t.

She sighs, “I’m not going to be able to fix anything, and I’m not going to try to. This is all quite far beyond me.” She fiddles with a chain bracelet on her wrist, she does that a lot, her words when Peter asked about it were ‘I like how it jingles.’ 

“But there are some things I can do. Like talk to you, but you don’t always want to talk about things. So I, hold on.” She looks back in her bag and starts digging around, “here it is!” She smiles, but doesn’t take whatever it is out of the bag. “close your eyes.”

Peter’s chest is warm, he closes his eyes, oh Merlin he’s lucked out with her, hasn’t he? He can feel her come closer, and her hands reaching behind his neck and fiddling with something, he tries not to move despite how much the gentle brush if her nails on his neck tickles.

“Okay,” she says, leaning back, “open your eyes.” 

He’s wearing a necklace. On a smooth rope instead of a chain, a dark crystal wrapped in the cord dangling at the bottom. It doesn’t glitter or shine much like the other crystals she’s given him, but it has its own kind of beauty.

“What is it?” He asks, he hasn’t seen this crystal before.

“That’s a secret.” She giggles, “it’s not a muggle crystal, and I only have one, but I figured it would be in best hands with you.”

“You only have one?” He asks, he didn’t want her collection dwindling because of him, before all the ones she had given him had been duplicates, or triples, of somthing she had many of. But just one? It must be rare, too rare to be a gift to him .

“I want you to have it,” she corrects, “it’s supposed to serve a purpose, with me it’s never going to do its job.”

“And it’s job is…?” 

She shakes her head in defiance, “it’s a protection crystal, of sorts… just keep it on you okay?” She looks at him expectantly, “I’ll be less worried if I know you’ve got it.” 

He reaches for one of her hands, encasing in it his own, “I’ll never take it off. Promise.”

She lifts their joint hand up to her mouth and kisses his knuckles, “good. Now let’s eat! I’m hungry.”

~~~

“Oh these are all wrong.” Flora Kennedy is looking at the plans on the floor, “this has ‘trouble’ written all over it.”

“Excuse me?” Lily scoffs, she had worked very hard on some of those, thank you very much. She hadn’t even known Flora that well, they competed for highest marks in ainchent runes, but that’s about it. Her history with Sirius was but a blip in time, and if Lily got to know every girl who had ever been with Sirius in anyway, she would be friends with half their year and more.

“They aren’t bad necessarily… some parts are good.” She shruggs. 

“Can you tell your sister to be nice to us please?” Marlene, who’s sitting on lilys left, looks over to the third year gryffindor beside Flora. Flora had brought her sister to help, or maybe to comfort her, but so far all Stella had done was watch quietly. Stella shakes her head ‘no’ and that’s as close as they get to an answer.

“What’s wrong with it then?” Peter asks. Lily was wondering too, but didn’t want to ask. If she was honest, she was scared of what Flora was going to say.

“Oh the map is great, don’t worry you are fine there.” She says, “but what’s this about a rat? How are you going to train a rat? And you have no plan for getting anyone out—” 

“That part wasn’t finished yet,” James grumbled, just barely loud enough for anyone to hear.

“—And your layout of the basement and the cells is a guess, so that’s a huge risk. And…” she trails off, looking back at them.

Of course she wouldn’t understand the rat, they would have to explain that. Of course it was still a shook to Lily sometimes, the animagus thing, she had known for weeks, but still felt weird every time she was reminded of it. 

Sirius sighed impatiently, “and…?” He prompted her.

“AND…” she snapped at him, “you guys are trying to sneak into the ministry, which is stupid because they catch you, then they will know you are up to something.”

“How else are we supposed to get into the ministry? Mary asks, though she’s the only one who doesn’t seem even the least bit offended.

Flora looks up with a smirk, “how else do you think?”

~~~

“What happens on the full moon?” Remus asks during a meal time, technically it’s breakfast, but they don’t really know what time it is. His body still aches from the last time they threw him in that chair, but at this point he isn’t sure if the ache will ever go away. 

“We turn into werewolves.” Portia shoots him a glance, “what else do you think would happen?”

He rolls his eyes at her, “I mean… what do they do . With us.” He hates the words coming out, they taste like vomit. Which is worse than the cheese slice he is trying to digest.

“We stay here.” Caliban grumbled, he had less food than normal, Douglas had more. While Remus had been up having late night conversations, clearly others have been too. Half the time he’s sleeping it’s not even “night time” anyway, there really isn’t much for him to do around here other than wait for the next time the officials decide to drag him away.

“That’s it?” He can’t help himself from asking.

“What, you think they care if we get hurt?” Douglas shuffles against the wall, “or are you scared someone’s going to hurt you?” There’s a bite in his words, he’s trying to get under Remus’ skin.

“No.” He doesn’t know what his face is saying right now, it’s stopped feeling like it was his own days (days?) ago. “I was just curious.” 

Douglas shrugs. He rips a clump of bread off of his loaf and shoves it in your mouth, “curiosity killed the cat, but do you know what kills the wolf?” He asks while he chews.

Remus can’t help the scowl that his face forms. “What?” 

“Don’t know,” he shrugs again “not the moon that’s for sure.” He focus’s his gaze on Remus, like he’s a frog ready to be dissected, “so what exactly are you afraid of, kid?”

“I’m not afraid of the moon.” He spits, though the hint of dishonesty is there and Douglas catches it like prey.

“You shouldn’t be.” He swallows the bread, “Once you embrace it, then everything gets better. You are all fools, you’ve been abandoning your purpose.” He scowls at them, and Remus fears what’s coming, but he knew this whole time it was inevitable.

“Wasting the night by locking yourselves up.” He continues, the anger he’s no doubt been holding in slowly building, a rolling boil of the blood in his veins. “Wasting the one time a month you get to embrace your most holy form. You all talk about this affliction like it’s a curse, but it’s a gift. We are the lucky few who get to experience divinity beyond magic, we have so graciously been blessed by the moon, and you hid your blessing away! It deserves to be seen, shown off, shipped even!” His voice is raised, “can you not feel it! The moon coursing through your body, not only changing your physical form but your spiritual one. Sure it hurts a bit, but thats the price of glory. The moon tells us to share this prize, to make people praise it and praise those with the highest honour of man that get to behold it.” He spits on the concrete floor, “you are all cowards and fools, betraying your purpose and betraying the moon.” 

Remus doesn’t know what to say to that. But he doesn’t get a chance, someone’s banging on the silver barred door. Cosette scoochs over to cower into his side.

“Lupin!” The voice shouts, “it seems it’s your lucky day.”

~~~

It was not his lucky day, because when was it ever?

They had dragged him again, by silver chains wrapped tight around his ankles and a spell binding his body together. Cosette called for him again, “Louka” she called. She always called him Remus, until she was scared, then he was Louka.

He had tried to fight, he did, he really did, but it’s hard to do much when he’s far too weak to even think about casting wandless magic.

They strapped him into the same chair that he had only just left not too long ago, except this time, they let him see their faces. It was only ever one other person in the room before, probably not the same guy the whole time, but Remus never remembered good enough to tell.

“I’ll have you know, Mr. Lupin. That you’ve been responding very well to our tests.” The first one starts. He’s blond, green eyes, a jagged scar on his cheek mutilating his skin so his mouth moves less on that side when he talks.

“Very well, infact, that we’ve decided to let you in on the next step of the program. The first one infact.” He smirks while pulling gloves over his hands. Hes wearing square glasses that sit awkwardly low on his nose. Unlike his partner he looks polite, like a regular person, not a kidnapped and torturer.

“You should count yourself very lucky, boy.” It’s Daniel Bornes. The one who knew his father, who talked to him in the dining hall like he was greeting an old friend, who stood infront of the whole school and declared him a monster. “Most patients don’t make it this far.”

“Lucky?” Remus scoffs, he knows he shouldn’t say anything, it would be smart to keep his mouth shut. But Remus hasn’t been doing many smart things lately.

“Lucky we didn’t just kill you for patricide, but instead we are giving you a second chance at life.” Scar cheek scoffs, “a first chance to do some good with your life for once.”

Patricide? What? He didn’t— it’s coming back now. He had missed much of the speech in the great hall, to focused on the pain shooting through his body and through his brain. But as they were dragging him away, stealing him from his life, Bornes had said it. He said that Remus killed his father.

“I didn’t kill my father.” What other lies where they spouting? Did his friends beleive that? Did they think he was a killer? Did they even grieve him?

“Lyall was a good man.” Glasses says, “he wouldn’t have abandoned his family. He had a picture of you and your mother on his desk.”

“Lyall was a coward.” Remus spat.

“I know you must blame him,” Bornes kneeled down, getting himself at Remus’ eye level, “for your sickness. For what he said in the paper. But he said it because it was true. If it hadn’t been then you wouldn’t be this way, if it had been untrue… you wouldn’t have killed him.” 

Remus tugged at his restraints, “I didn’t kill him!” Bornes calmly stepped back. Remus wasn’t a threat to them, not like this. Like this he wasn’t a threat to anyone.

His ear started ringing. “You killed him.” The voice said in his head, “you killed him. You killed him. You killed him.” It repeated itself over and over, they were forcing Remus to believe it, telling him over and over like it was truth. They told him that he killed his father just like they told him that he was a monster. Neither of those are true, but the more he hears it, the more one of them starts to feel accurate.

“You killed him. Monster. You are a monster and you killed him. You. Killed. Him.”

“Lucky beast.” Cheek scar hisses, he walks behind the chair over to where Remus knows they store… whatever it is they store.

“Right now,” Glasses begins to explain, he almost sounds scientific, and perhaps to an observer he might be, but not to Remus. “The beast inside you is hiding, it’s docile, and your kind likes to push the propaganda that it is always like that unless it’s the moon. However, we know that when in stress, that beast wakes up, and gets closer to the surface. We believe, we can bring the beast to the surface without unleashing it.” He says it mater if factly, as if explaining his history of magic project, and not an experiment they are about to preform on a human.

“And you get to be the first to try it.” Bornes smirks, “isn’t the great Remus.” He taunts.

“YOU MONSTER YOU KILLED HIM. YOU’RE A KILLER AND A BEAST. YOU KILLED HIM.”

“I didn’t—” Remus tries to argue, but the bursting headache hurts more when he talks. He’s pulling at his restraints as hard as he can, the metal digs into his wrists and ankles, the unclean edges most definitely drawing blood.

Scar cheek comes back, except he’s wearing a mask. A medical mask, covering his mouth, nose, and scar. He’s holding a small bottle, its contents don’t look like anything he’s seen in here before. It’s not purple, silver, his own blood, or anything of the sort. 

It’s clear, slightly bubbly. 

It smells. Reeking of something Remus can’t quite place.

He tugs and squirms more, he knows it’s in vein, even if he manages break out there is no way he can defend himself against them, not even if he was at full strength. But he told himself he wouldn’t stop fighting. He told himself that he wouldn’t let them win.

“Stop moving!” Glasses casts a spell, and Remus can’t move his arms, or his legs, or anything but his head. He could talk if he wanted, they want to hear him scream. To them he’s not much more than an animal. He wonders if there ere doing this on an actual animal if it would be was or harder for them to stomach.

“Killer.”

He decides he isn’t going to scream, surely whatever pain they have planned for him not can’t be worse than anything he’s felt before, he can do it. He can do it. 

He tells himself he can do it as Bornes and Glasss come back into his eye sight with medical masks on. He tells himself he can do it as they tie a strap around the top of his arm. He tells himself he can do it as the clear bubbly liquid is put into a syringe. He tells himself he can do it as the syringe is stabbed into his veins. 

He tells himself he can do it as they start to inject it.

He can’t do it.

He screams.

And screams.

And screams.

And the voice still whispers “killer.”

And he still screams.

~~~

“What’s the best time to do this?” James asks, We need a couple days to set everything up.”

“You know what’s in a couple days from now?” Lily smiles in a way that’s almost sinister.

Sirius catches the insinuation immediately, but before he can speak someone else does.

For the first time since she joined, Stella speaks. 

“The full moon.”

~~~

He knows what they meant now, “bringing the beast to the surface.” 

He knew what the meant, and it wasn’t a metaphor, because why would it ever be.

“KILLER. MONSTER. BEAST. MURDERER.”

He felt it the same as how he did when the moon rose above the horizon. The bones breaking and reshaping, his brain turning primal and unsophisticated, the claws sealing their way out of his hands.

Except not all of that happened. But he felt it all. Fur stabbing its way out of his skin like needles, the cartilage under his skin reshaping like hardened clay, his teeth fighting against his gums into fangs only a beast could grow. It rippled through his body like a tsunami. At some point they had released the spell on him, so he felt his spine arch off the back as it rebroke itself far to early for the moon. 

His bones were on fire and his muscles weren’t his own. Spiders with blades for legs scittered and crawled across his limbs, sinking their razor sharp teeth into every joint on his body. His muscles itching to burst out of his skin, to explode through his pores and douse the room in gore. But tahts where it stops.

He feels his spine reshape, but doesn’t hear the snap on the bones. He can feel the course fur under his skin but no further than that. The pain ebbs and flows but never bursts, Staying a constant throb of stretch in every limb, organ, and cell of his body.

It dulls a bit, Remus’ throat is sore and he’s not sure when he stoped screaming, but it must have been a while ago cause he’s clenching his jaw. He tastes iron, with a hint of something more toxic. He’s peirced his tongue. With his tooth, no, his fang. But he’s human. He’s human. He’s human? 

It’s not a full moon, why does he have fangs. He’s supposed to be human. He’s supposed to be human. He’s supposed to be human. He’s supposed to be human. He’s supposed to be human. He’s supposed to be human. He’s supposed to be human. He’s supposed to be human. He’s supposed to be human. He’s supposed to be human. He’s supposed to be human.

“MONSTER.”

“Ease into it boy,” Bornes is speaking, Remus is hyperventilating, “this is just the first step, the first step into your reinvention.”

~~~

It’s late (supposedly) when they throw poor Remus back into their cage. There’s something different about him, Caliban can tell. He’s conscious this time, he’s never been conscious after the guards have taken him before. Remus lunges for the bars and Caliban struggles to get in the way before he hits them, his bones really don’t work like they used to. 

“Woah there.” He grabs Remus as the boy collapses against his chest, “don’t give them a reason to hurt you just because they can.” Remus is shaking, his skin is sticky with sweat, but his skin is cold to the touch. 

“They—” his voice is raspy, “they did something, to me.” Hes struggling to keep himself up, and Caliban doesn’t have the strength to hold up them both. But with Portia’s help he does, he hand is on his back as she helps them over to Remus’ usual spot against the back wall.

“They always do,” Portia says, “sit.” She guides him down to the floor and it’s more than just Calibans knees that pop as they go down.

“No. No, they…” his eyes won’t stay in one place, frantically darting around the room from blank wall to blank wall. His eyes, there’s something off about his eyes, Caliban can’t tell in the dark, but there’s something different. “I’m not… I’m not a person, I’m—”

“You are a person.” Cosette, the poor little girl, interrupts him, “a nice person.” She’s staying back from him, anyone can see his eratic behaviour is scaring her, it’s scaring Caliban too.

He had tried so hard to connect with her, never unable to see someone elses face every time he looked at her. Sometimes it was dear Rosie’s, when she was that age, missing her two front teeth. Or Joanna’s, or Floras, or little Stella’s, who hasn’t been little for a while. And maybe that’s why, she will always be someone else to Caliban, but Remus will always be someone else to her too.

“No, no I… I’m— I’m, I donno…” there’s a strip of blood on his chin, coming from his mouth. What did they make him do? Or what was he forced into doing himself? He grabs onto Calibans arm, his hands are clammy and dry, they don’t feel human. 

“They changed me.” He gasped, “they— I… He, my da… the wolf— Me, I, I didn’t!” Hes shaking his head at Caliban, his hand gripping tight into Calibans forearm, his nails digging into his skin. “I didn’t, I promise, I didn’t kill him!” 

Caliban spares a quick glance at his arm, expecting to see Remus’ nails pressing into his skin, instead he sees claws. Almost like hands, but his nails are sharper, thicker, his fingers are missing a joint, bending awkwardly. They really did change him. 

Didn’t kill who? Caliban wants to ask, but he’s afraid to escalate the situation, “I believe you.” He says instead. “Please try and calm down.”  He’s lost, Margaret always handled the girls when they had strong emotions. He wants to help but… the boy has every reason to be freaking out.

“They told everyone I killed him.” Remus urges, “I d-didn’t, I didn’t kill anyone, I didn’t.” He shakes his head, “I’m supposed to be human. I’m… it’s not a full moon.” His hand is still crushing Calibans arm, he can feel the claws digging into his skin, but he doesn’t take them off.

Caliban hears Douglas shuffle forward, he’s been hiding out in his corner this whole time, but something’s triggered him to want to be closer. Caliban wants to push him back, but if he were to start a fight with Douglas, he knows he would lose. 

“I believe you, just please take some deep breaths.” What is he saying? The boy needs something better than breathing, he needs to go home, to get out of here, to be held by his mother. There’s nothing Caliban can do.

Cosette, oh sweet little Cosette, lunges forward from where she was cowering on the ground, and she wraps her arms tight around Remus’ middle. She’s pressed tightly against his side, and she herself is crying, but it works. Remus’ eyes widen, still unfocused and sporadic, but he looks down at her and his grip on Calibans arm loosens, he slowly wraps his arms around her, ever so gently. He hasn’t stopped shaking, his breathing is still chaotic, but it’s there. He closes his eyes, and his body is relaxing.

He can hear Douglas muttering under his breath, whatever this is must be a good thing to the man. If Caliban were twenty years younger he’d argue, but unfortunately he isn’t young anymore, so the misguided bastard will just keep spouting nonsense and creating unrest amongst them.

He sits properly down, on the wall a few feet away from Remus and the girl, letting himself calm down. The ministry is escalating, whatever their plans may be, are starting to unfold. 

He cares deeply about these people, He cares about Portia like his daughter, a second daughter he is gifted to have. He can’t help that every time he looks at Cosette he sees one of his girls, but he tries his best to take care of her as she is, though she runs from him and he doesn’t blame her. In a twisted way he cares for Douglas, the kid spots harmful rhetoric and ideals, but something truly awful must have happened to lead him to believing that. He cared for Ciara like a friend, and for Steven like a brother, and for every other poor soul whose been trapped here. 

He looks at these people and sees someone he cares for. But there’s something different about Remus, his heart aches for the boy, for everything he’s had to and continues to suffer through. But just like he sees his girls in Cosette, he can’t help but see himself in Remus.

~~~

4 days until the full moon…

5 days until the plan unfolds…

5 days until they get Remus back.

That’s what Sirius tells himself when he walks up the the astronomy tower that night. He’s tired and restless from the days waiting and planning, missing sleep and classes to make sure everything is perfect. It has to work, it has to work. 

It has to work.

He bumps into someone on the stairs. He sees his own face, no, this one has harder cheek bones, pointier chin, grey eyes darker, and much too little hair on his head. The face is his brothers.

“What are you and your… friends… doing up here?” His voice is just as cold as the last time they spoke. 

“Nothing.” Sirius is far too tired to try and sound civil, or to try an attempt to fool his brother with a lie. “Now move out of my way.” 

“No!” Regulus hits his hand on the wall, “I’ve been trying to catch you for weeks, but you’ve been avoiding me.” 

“Oh yeah?” Sirius takes a step to the right but Regulus blocks him, he knows that Sirius won’t put a hand on him, he knows that Sirius won’t be their parents. “You’ve been doing it to me for years, doesn’t feel so great, does it?”

“I just want to talk.”

“Oh yeah sure you do.”

“I do!” Regulus huffs, “is it really so hard to believe that I’m on your side sometimes?” His face grows sad, and Sirius is looking at the same little brother that looked disappointed when their were no presents at Christmas, “we were getting better, you liked me again when I moved in with the Potters. As soon as we get back to school you stop talking to me.”

“Reg…”

“Don’t call me that. You’ve lost nickname privileges again.”

Sirius sighs, “Regulus, a lot has happened since school started, and maybe ” he can’t help how he spits his words out, “I just didn’t want to talk to you about it.”

“Are you that scared of what I will think?” The sadness is gone, the anger is back, “so scared that I’ll be like our parents that you don’t even want to attempt to see how you could be wrong?”

“Well, am I?” Sirius challenges, “am I wrong? I got you out of that house, but how much of that house do you still fart with you?”

“Nothing by choice!” He yells, “I carry with me the fear that runs through me every time I hear broken glass, I carry the paranoia that I’m being watched at every moment, that someone’s going to punish me for speaking out of turn, I carry with me the flinch that happens every time someone raises their hand!” Tears threaten the corner of his eyes, “I don’t carry their thoughts, and the ones I do I fight off every day. I don’t hate Lupin, and I wish you would talk to me about it.” He’s still yelling, but the vulnerability cracks through his voice and he can’t help it. 

“Yeah…” Sirius takes a deep breath, “I carry most of that too.” They stand there for a moment, the silence sitting tight on their shoulders like their parents hands, squeezing until the pain sticks. “You don’t hate him?” Sirius asks, hesitantly, carefully, slowly, but he asks.

Regulus shakes his head, “no, I never did. I figured it out over the summer anyway.” He looks down at his hands, and Sirius doesn’t know why he was ever avoiding him in the first place.

Sirius takes a gamble, “if you promise not to tell anyone, I’ll show you what we are working on.”

Regulus draws two fingers over his lips, zipping them shut. And Sirius can’t help but laugh at him, “okay, come on Reggie.” He grabs his hand and pulls him up the stairs.

“I did not say you got nickname privileges back!”

~~~

Remus doesn’t feel like himself. His skin is being pulled taught over a being that it’s not his own, his body doesnt belong to him, the only thing reminding him he’s still alive is Cosette curled up against his side. 

“Shhhhhhhh.” She hums, “shhhhh, (it’s okay)” her heart beat is steady against his side. He can hear his own, his senses on overdrive, but he is alive, and he is here. He is in pain but he is okay… Cosette whispers small French remedies, one he assumes she must have heard from her family, she’s trying to calm him and it’s working.

He doesn’t want to open his eyes, if he does then Caliban and the others might start talking to him. 

But he realizes something now, being comforted by a small child in a cage of concrete and silver, his own body changed and altered to something he will never recognize.

He told himself he would fight. He told himself to never let them win. He realized he had been making an impossible promise, they were always going to win. They had broken him. They had won the minute they found him at Hogwarts, even before he was in their grasp. Those weeks he spent sick, paranoid, and weak, the nights laying awake worrying about the inevitable. The whole time he was hiding, they were winning. If he fights or if he gives in, if he’s a captive or just in hiding,  if he’s a human or whatever amalgamation between man and monster they have turned him into. Either way they win. The ministry always wins, and Remus never will. He was never supposed to. He was born and built to lose. 

And it wasn’t always the wolf’s fault.

~~~

The first day of fifth year, his friends surprised him by pulling him into their dorm after dinner and telling him about their summer project. They had been giddy and secretive since the train, because OF COURSE they had to do something so stupid. Remus was grateful from the thought, and impressed by the skill, but most of all he was scared. 

He yelled at them at first, and then apologized, and then banned them from coming. He knew, logically, that it would probably, maybe, possibly be fine, but every other bone in his body cried danger. 

He would hurt them, he wouldn’t hurt animals if he wasn’t hunting (he thinks) but what if for some reason he did? What if the wolf saw them as the humans they are and not animals? What if he felt threatened?

Remus didn’t like that.

But even if he didn’t hurt them, they would see the beast. What if they never saw him the same again? What if they saw a monster every time they looked at him? It would make the whole werewolf thing less of something that happens, and more of something that was real.

What if it made them change their mind on being his friend, preferring to see him as a monster instead? 

Two moons had passed since, his friends hadn’t brought the topic back up, but he could feel they wanted to. The slight awkwardness whenever they were alone and it got quiet. After the last two moons when they visited him in the hospital wing while he was beaten and bruised. 

The third moon was the worst in a long time. Two missing fingernails. Three broken ribs. Two breaks on his left arm. Dislocated hip. Dislocated shoulder. Large scratches on his back, stomach, legs. Big one on his neck. Poppy had been scared, he was unconscious and in a pile of his own blood when she found him.

He gave in a day and a half later when he woke up. Crying not from pain but from fear, he almost died. A year ago he might not have cared, but he did now. He woke up with his friends waiting around his bed and the tears almost immediately came. He agreed; on the condition that if the wolf showed any signs of aggression, if he even tried to hurt them in any way, they needed to fight back. They agreed, and maybe if Remus had been more emotionally steady he would have realized their hearts weren’t in it.

He stressed about it the whole month, ribs still healing so when he panicked too much  and struggled to breathe it hurt even more than normal. It wasn’t a stack of bricks sitting on his chest, it was a wolf — a really big one. 

But the night came around, and the rest of the marauders followed him and Poppy to the shack, hidden under the cloak. They stashed it under a wonky floorboard by what was left of a couch, so it would be safe. They talked for a bit, or listened while Remus talked. Knowing his stress might come off bad with the wolf, knowing the wolf has never been anything but solitary, knowing if something happens there is nowhere for them to run, knowing from this day on his friends will always see him differently, knowing they are about to meet the worst side of Remus. 

And then he screamed and screamed and screamed, until he heard the skittering of paws and hoofs, and then he screamed some more.

…

……………

..

……

He woke up, shivering and curled up on the stained floor, and he felt great. He was in pain, but the only pain he felt was from transforming, nothing more than a small scratch on his arm that was too simple to be from the wolf. Sirius saw he was shivering in the floor and laid a blanket over him, with it protecting his modesty as well (though by seeing the wolf, the marauders had seen something far more intimate than his arse), James very softly laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright, mate?” He asked, they all knew that the loud was hard right after full moons, he told them once and from then on they had remembered.

Remus’ voice hurt, he’d been howling. He just nodded. His body aches he had probably re broken one of the barely healed ribs. He could feel his pinky out of place. But that was all there was to it. The vibrating in his chest wasn't as strong, and he felt calm. He was going to take a nap when he got to the hospital wing, instead of collapsing from exhaustion. 

He didn’t know what had happened that night, but he would ask them later, and they would tell him. But he felt little snippets waiting in the back of his mind to come out later. He had clarity.

“Are you sure?” James asked again, “you are just kind of staring at Sirius’ knees with an odd look on your face.”

Remus blinks, “oh.” He sighed, “I’m okay. Good, even. Which is new.”

“Pomfrey is going to be here soon, the sun is coming up.” Peter had grabbed the invisibility cloak. 

“We will come visit you after a quick nap.” Sirius promised, “okay Moony?”

Remus smiled, his cheek still pressed up against the rough floor boards, “more than.”

“We will tell you everything then.” Peter lightly clapped his hands, “but we have to get out.”

It was two minutes in between his friend's departure and Poppy’s arrival. But Remus was too busy to notice the time passing. He knew every moon wouldn’t be like this, this was an anomaly, he would be a fool to believe otherwise. But a part of him hoped, and maybe that was good enough to keep him going, for just a little while longer.

~~~

Regulus Black didn’t cause trouble. When his parents yelled or hit his brother he kept his head down until the flames died out. When Barty wanted to cause trouble he said no, when his grades slipped even a little, he fixed them, when he made a mistake he made up for it in a million and one ways. Until the Potters.

It was weird thinking of Potter Manor as home, because it wasn’t. Regulus’ home wasn’t warm, it wasn’t safe, it wasn’t forgiving. Since moving in with the Potters, and Sirius, Regulus has watched his steps. Sirius is their son, Regulus is not. 

One foot out of place and he will go back that house or be put on the streets, and that’s worse than any repremand or beating. His parents never kicked him out, he left. He was wanted there, the child to save them after Sirius’ failures. When Sirius messed up, well at least they had Regulus to clean up their reputation.

The Potters didn’t need to clean up their reputation. If he tainted it, he’d be out. Sirius had told him that wasn’t true, but Regulus was smarter than that, he knew his place, and he wouldn’t lose it.

But Sirius always had been a trouble maker. He pulled pranks, and made jokes, and got up to mischief, and didn’t know where the line to stop was until he had long crossed it. This time… the line was far in the distance.

It was the second night of meeting Sirius and his friends in the astronomy tower to hear their outrageous plan. Break into the ministry? Break out captives? Then just act as if nothing happened? Insane.

Sure, him and his brother had made plans of escaping their home, and eventually, eventually, those worked out. But this was another level of too far. 

Regulus never said he would help, he never agreed to anything, and he never made any promises. All he said was that he would keep his mouth shut. But at this point keeping his mouth shut wouldn’t help them. This was outrageous. 

But… there was a small, very tiny, minuscule, chance that it could work. That they could save Remus and everyone else, and everything would work out. 

He wasn’t going to help. He wasn’t. This was utterly insane. If they failed they would all be thrown in Azkaban to rot forever. But if they didn’t… then what? Then all the werewolves hide for the rest of their lives, Regulus and Sirius and his friends become fugitives? 

Regulus liked Remus, he did. Remus was always nice to him, they got along well at prefect meetings, and the time Remus was at the Potters in the summer they would read together in the library.

Regulus knew Remus was a werewolf, and he knew Remus was practically harmless. He didn’t deserve this. But nobody did. 

They didn’t ask him to put himself at risk, they didn’t ask him to help, they didn’t ask anything of him but to keep quiet. But deep deep , really deep, down, he wanted to help, he wanted to cause trouble for the right reasons. Maybe just a little.

But was Regulus really going to risk himself for someone he barely knew? He didn’t recognize himself when the answer was yes. 

~~~

***

They try again every day 

to bring the wolf as close to the surface as possible

the voices got louder

the pain grew and grew

and grew

felt more than just pain

eyesight became more tunneled

vision sharp and predatory

caught the reflection in the bars of their cage

eyes were far from their soft brown

they were the eyes of a beast

mind felt simpler

the fingernails got thicker

fingers couldn’t straighten

claws not hands

cheeks hollowed out pulled in

teeth were closer to fangs than anything

speaking got the tounge bitten

closed mouth bit inside of cheeks

food tasted more like iron than silver

blood was familiar

bones different but unknown how

ribs pressing against skin

skin shrunk thin

holding everything together way too tight

clothes hanging loose on an empty body

so many smells

stink

rot

sweat

danger wolf

old man

mother

baby

little girl

salt

tears

smelt lots of tears

whose tears

hear clang and creak and clank

hear scratch and scream

hear fight

fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight fight

angry

sad

scared

cold

cold

cold

~~~

They haven’t spent a night outside of the astronomy tower in ages, but it’s worth it.

Four days until the moon, and the plan was ready.

Three days until the moon, and the plan was in action.

~~~

Cosette is up against his side, she’s gently telling a story that Remus only registers half of. He’s in one of his clearer moments. And even then he doesn’t feel like himself. He knows the moon is soon but he doesn’t know when. But maybe it’s not. He can’t feel it in his bones the same anymore, he can’t feel anything the same anymore.

He’s far from human.

He doesn’t want to be a monster.

So he lets himself be on the in between. 

He sees the way they all look at him now.

Portia is scared of him, and he doesn’t even blame her. He is scared of him.

Caliban pities him. Looks at him like he’s a kicked puppy and not a beast. Maybe it’s not pity, but it’s something.

Douglas envies him. 

He knows that look, the “why isn’t that me?” “What makes him so special?” “Why am I not good enough?” He knows Douglas doesn’t see him as a monster, he’s heard him say it. Remus is asleep and he can hear it. 

Douglas thinks he is divine, he is gifted, he is ascended?. 

Douglas is a fool.

“And the clock rings and she’s not a princess anymore.” Cosette murmurs, “only for little time she was.”

Remus hums and nods, his mouth hurts too much to speak, his teeth— he refuses to think of them as anything else while he can— cutting up every inch of it that they can.

“She run away from the party but…” she trails off in thought, “she don’t have a shoe.” She stops to think for a moment.

She likes to tell stories, sometimes under her breath to herself, sometimes for Remus. All fairy tales. He recognises most of them, when she says them in English. Sometimes she’ll switch to French halfway through a story, or say a word in French instead of English, or describe the word instead of say it. She tries. Remus is just glad she isn’t scared of him. 

He doesn’t know how she isn’t. How she cuddles up next to him to sleep every night all the same, tells him stories he half understands, asks him questions and if he doesn’t answer she doesn’t get upset. Remus couldn’t tell her that his favourite colour was blue, so she answered: “okay. I like yellow.”

“The… king boy can’t find her. He has the shoe.” 

Her hair is still in the plaits that Portia did for her, they’ve gotten messy but she won’t let Portia redo them. Pieces hang out of all the sides and the bows holding them have gotten a bit loose, but she doesn’t seem to mind. 

Portia keeps trying to get him to eat, but he isn’t hungry anymore. Douglas ends up getting what he doesn’t eat, but Remus manages to slip some to Cosette. The old lettuce and stale bread doesn’t appetize whatever is lurking under his skin. 

It only craves meat. To hunt. To kill.

So Remus is starving it. Starving the creature until it shrivels away and takes all his monstrous qualities with it. Remus isn’t hungry, but the creature is, and Remus isn’t going to give it anything.

Cosette switches to French now, Remus doesn’t know if she’s noticed or if she’s just decided the story is only for her now. But that makes sense. Remus was the princess who ran away from the ball, he got his “night of happiness” when he got to spend time at Hogwarts, and now the clock had struck midnight and he was back to just being sad and a monster. Or maybe he was just being ridiculous, it was just a story. Fairytales have happy endings. Remus doesn’t.

~~~

***

“i wonder what their goal is” the old man says

the creature is sleeping 

the creature can hear

“does it matter” says the mother

“yes, it does” says the danger wolf “i want in”

little girl takes a breath

“what happened to you to make you like this” old man asks

“i was awoken like you should have been” replied danger wolf

“something is wrong with you” says the mother

“nothing is wrong with me i chose this life because it was the right one and all of you won’t see that you have been given a gift” danger wolf is wrong

“you chose it” old man is surprised old man is confused

awake

awake

“i had been searching for how to reach my highest potential for years until i found it”

danger wolf isn’t scared danger wolf was never scared

“i hunted down a werewolf because i knew i would either die or ascend and i knew it was worth it”

“you are insane” the mother is right

nobody wants this nobody wants this

“no you are you refuse to see what’s right in front of you” danger wolf is a fool is a fool is a fool is a fool is a fool is a fool is a fool

“you need to be quiet” old man is right

the creature can’t say anything 

“please stop” little girl says 

protect little girl

“im sick of you all acting as if you are victims” danger wolf is getting mad “portia if that baby of yours is born a werewolf it’s received the ultimate gift and you refuse to see it”

attack

want to fight

asleep again

no more voices

asleep

~~~

Even when Remus has his own mind he feels lost, he will open his eyes knowing time has passed but he doesn’t know how long, and he doesn’t know what happened. 

Douglas is staring at him like he wants something, Remus refuses to give him anything. He looks away.

Caliban is talking to Portia in quiet voices, Cosette is asleep, tucked under Remus’ arm, knees up to her chest, on hand in her lap and the other gripping tight to Remus’ shirt. It hangs so loose now it’s hard to believe it ever fit properly. 

He’s avoided thinking about his friends, but lately it’s been hard not to. He barely talks to anyone anymore, no more “late night” conversations with Caliban, or stubborn discussions with Portia, or even humouring anything Cosette has to ask. So his mind wanders to where he wishes he was.

To Hogwarts.

To James, who he hopes is not only taking care of others but himself aswell, not hiding his emotions away and putting others ahead of himself. He hopes James doesn’t blame himself, he promised hundreds of times to protect Remus even when it wasn’t possible.

To Lily, who probably knew he was a werewolf but never cared enough to bring it up. He hopes she kept the study group running. He hopes she doesn’t throw herself into school to avoid dealing with her feelings, he doesn’t want her to explode later.

To Peter, who he knows is going to try and stay positive even when it’s far too late. He hopes he doesn’t pull away from the other marauders too much, as he tends to do when things get tough. He hopes that Peter still has Sybil, she was always good for him.

To Mary and Marlene, who didn’t even know he was a werewolf. He hopes they don’t hate him, he doesn’t even know how they would have reacted. He hopes they aren’t mad he didn’t tell them, but he would take that over them hating him for what he is.

To Sirius.

Right now, if Remus hadn’t been taken, they would be together. Properly. RemusandSirius. He would get to kiss him, properly, and not as a good bye, hold him as they slept. Maybe they would go out to hogsmead together, they wouldn’t do anything that would make easy it for anyone to catch on, but they would know. When they were ready then Peter and James would know, but they probably already do now, they weren’t supposed to. Maybe Remus would come out to his mum, maybe, so then he could have Sirius over. She didn’t let friends come over, but maybe… 

He would run his fingers through Sirius’ hair as they hid away from everyone, and Remus would listen to him talk, about anything, about whatever he wanted. They would be happy.

He hopes Sirius isn’t sad, he doesn’t want him to be sad, but he knows he is.

He doesn’t think of his mum. He isn’t her son anymore, her son was a werewolf but he was also a human. Remus didn’t know what he is anymore. He was dropped on the middle of a tightrope between man and monster and doenst have the strength to choose a direction to crawl.

He hopes she’s okay, but he doesn’t think she beleives of herself as much more than his mother. 

~~~

The moon is rising, Remus can feel it. He knows is coming, he knows it is. Since he’s been moulded into this beast he’s felt the rage underneath his skin, bubbling and ready. He’s kept it down, kept it trapped with his bones. But as his bones change the rage is seeking out of the cracks.

Everyone is changing, it’s a lot of screaming, a lot of pain. Cosette is crying and it breaks Remus’ heart, he never knew he could care for someone the way he’s begun to care for her. Douglas is screaming and it’s ironic, how does it feel to have this gift he so loves now? It’s not great. 

Who does he think he is? Who does he think he gets to be? If this is a gift than it isn’t Remus’. He doesn’t get to be a gift. He doesn’t get to be saved. 

His toes are curling  and his spine is popping and he can’t think clearly, the rage clouding his vision and his ears. He hears the pounding of his heart and the gushing of his blood. 

He hears the rage punch out with the final crack of his spine. The transformation isn’t even complete yet and he is already lunging.