Work Text:
They are on one of the many sofas in the common room.
It’s directly facing the fire. It’s a deep red, because luckily, whoever designed the common room had eyes and could see bright red everything would look disgusting. The arms curl downwards. On the right side of it is a chair the same colour. Lily and Mary have managed to curl themselves around each other and fit on it. Marlene is out with her girlfriend, Dorcas.
Peter is on the side of the sofa closest to Lily and Mary. In the middle sits Remus, book in hand, as usual. James has one leg thrown over Remus’ lap, the other hanging off the sofa. He’s leaning back against the arm. Sirius lies over his torso and leg, dozing contentedly. James is fiddling with a rubix cube. The leg hanging off the sofa occasionally hits the small table in front of them. It’s laden with snacks taken from the kitchen. There aren’t many students around anymore, and any who are gather in clusters at tables to study.
Peter stops his scanning of the room, instead staring at his hands. If he looks at the trio piled next to him he might start crying. A deep, deep jealousy seems to burn through his heart and soul whenever he so much as glances at them. A gaping hole of yearning tears through his chest, getting larger and larger the longer he stares. So, he doesn’t. He avoids looking at them when they’re a trio like this at all costs. He’ll only hurt himself otherwise.
It’s a Friday, so they’re all sitting about and snacking. The conversation died down a little while ago. Now, they’re all just relaxing in each other’s presences. It’s nice. Peaceful. Or, it would be. It’s hard to enjoy these types of evenings when there’s three people next to him constantly reminding him of what he can’t have.
Back in fifth year, about halfway through, Remus, James and Sirius made the announcement they were all together. Peter was accepting, of course. All of their friends were. It wasn’t a surprise. The marauders had always been close. But he couldn’t help but feel a bit upset. He loved his friends. More than your average person does. He was in love with them. The spark of hope that maybe they would be happy to include him and be a four quickly faded when he realised they would never want him.
To put it plainly, he was ugly and fat. He had nothing important or good about him. Sure, he was kind, but that was the extent of his abilities. Perhaps a bit smart, but not smart enough. Not compared to the others.
James was apart of the quidditch team, seeker, and had the body of a Greek statue. A handsome face. Girls fawned over him. Sirius was slim, light on his feet and as graceful as a dancer when he wanted to be. He had clear skin. He was good at charms. Remus was skinny and tall. He was incredibly smart, exceeding in potions especially. He always had this mysterious aura about him. They were all better than him. Peter was a nobody, a lost kitten trailing after the others. He’s heard what others have said about him. It hurts.
He stands up, brushing his hands on his trousers. Shakes himself of his thoughts. The guilt of eating weighs heavy on his shoulders. Unfortunately, because all they’d be doing is hanging out in the common room, he couldn’t back out. The other Marauders knew he had no homework or studying. It would be weird for him not to eat any snacks. Especially since he didn’t eat much at dinner (not that it mattered anyway).
“I’m going to go to bed, g’night guys,”
They all murmur a tired goodnight back, and he heads to the dorm. He resists the urge to hunch, curl into himself, hide. He doesn’t want to risk any of them looking back to him and see that. Climbing the stairs, he leans heavily on the railing, legs still slightly weak from earlier. He enters the room and makes a beeline to the bathroom. Nausea rolls in his gut.
Closing the door, he sets a silencing charm. Sighs tiredly, knowing he can’t and won’t stop. But he’s so exhausted. He kneels in front of the toilet bowl. He rolls up his sleeves. Pokes at his throat for a second.
He empties his stomach of the food he just ate into the bowl.
…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ…
“Get out! I need a piss, mate!”
Sirius’ shouting from the other side of the door jolts him from his daydreaming episode. He’d read somewhere about dissociation, and wondered often if that was what it actually was. He gets up from where he was sitting on the floor. He’s quite glad it took them a while to go up to bed, it meant he had time to clean up. He’d gargled water and vanished the vomit a while ago. Got rid of the smell. His throat still burns. Throwing up every time he ate never got easier. He was numb to it now.
He washes his hand in the sink again, shouting back, “I’ll just be a sec!”
Splashing water on his face, he inspects it for a second. His cheeks and under his ears have started to puff up recently. It makes him feel worse. He ignores the dizziness in his head and the shake in his hands, stumbling ever so slightly as he heads to the door. He opens it.
Sirius barges past him, slamming the door. He looks at James, who shrugs apologetically. Remus is scribbling something down in the margins of his book with a muggle pen he brought from home. He feigns a yawn, knowing full well he’s not getting any sleep tonight. “Goodnight guys, sleep well.” He murmurs, closing his curtains. Their replies are cut off from the silencing charm he sets.
He’s glad they’ve been too distracted by each other to have noticed him start closing his curtains whenever changing. He wouldn’t want to subject them to seeing how disgusting his body is. He also doesn’t want them to see him obsessively working out every night, desperate for as much change as he can get.
He goes through is routine now. Exercise. Find the hiding place. Cut. Clean up. Glamour. Curl up in bed. Cry. Sleep.
He doesn’t sleep that night. He hardly ever does.
…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ…
His leg won’t stop shaking. It bounces, up and down. Sirius asked him if he was alright earlier. He said yes. The others just sent him indiscernible glances. Every time his jeans move his legs sting from last night.
In the great hall, there are, naturally, a lot of people. Most kids come down for breakfast around about the same time, even on weekends. Being apart of one of the most popular groups in school, a lot of people tended to pay attention to him in the great hall. This spiked his anxiety. What if they judged what he was eating? How much? How he was eating? He’s heard what people have said about his appearance before.
He only picks at his food. His throat and stomach hurt. His legs feel shaky, but also won’t stop moving. They hurt. His shoulders are tense and he has to resist the urge to raise them. The others are already acting odd around him. Right now, he just wants to go back to bed and sleep. Doing anything right now sounds too exhausting. He hasn’t gotten proper sleep in ages, now. He often glamours his face so the others won’t notice. They’ve still noticed the mood change, though. Guilt curls in his gut and he feels ashamed. They shouldn’t be this concerned about him. It’s nothing , he just wants to be better. Look better. So they don’t have to hang around a loser all the time.
He gets up, subtly gripping the table to stable himself as a wave of dizziness overtakes him. Clearing his sore throat, he announces to the trio, “I’m going to the library. I’ll see you guys later, right?”
Remus tilts his head, “You always say you’re going to the library, but I’ve never seen you there.”
Damn him and his unusually good observational skills. A spark of irritation flies through him. “Maybe you just don’t see me.” He shrugs, struggling to keep his voice calm.
“The library’s not that big, I doubt I’d miss you—“
“I’m there, Rem, it’s fine. Leave off.” He snaps. The other looks at him in surprise. Peter hasn’t ever really snapped at them.
He turns to leave, but James calls out whilst standing up, “Wait up! I’ll come with, I need to return a book quickly.”
Ah, shit. He thinks. He wasn’t actually going to go to the library, obviously. He never did. He was probably going to cry in the dorms about his failing grades, body and how generally shit his life is. Then maybe study, not that it would help. Try to sleep (keyword: try). But if James is coming with him, then he’ll know he’s not actually going to the library. He’ll start asking questions. They all will.
James has caught up with him by the time his thoughts have started spiralling. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts. He racks his brain for an excuse to leave James, eventually coming up with, “I need to go to the dorms first to get some stuff. We’ll have to split up at the doors.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I need to get some stuff there as well.” He waves his hand about dismissively.
More panic. Maybe he should just go to the library this time. His grades have been slipping. Or give another bad excuse for why he isn’t actually going to the library. Either way, they’re headed the same way, which means longer he has to go bottling up his emotions. He takes a couple deep breaths. “Okay.”
They’re quiet as they make their way through the castle, save for James humming. He breaks the silence, “So, what’re you going to the library for? We don’t have any homework, unless you’ve got something extra you haven’t told us about.”
Peter shrugs, “Just charms and potions. Professor Flitwick said I haven’t been doing so well recently.” Actually, all his teachers had been, but James didn’t need to know that. No one did. “I’m feeling a bit sick, though, so I might just stay in the dorms.” He hides a wince as his jeans pull on a cut. He’d really prefer not to have a bloody patch on his thigh, thanks. He likes these jeans.
“You good? You didn’t eat anything at breakfast.” James peers at him worriedly.
“Yeah, fine.” He waves a hand dismissively, desperate to take the topic off his eating habits.
They’ve made it to the tower by now. James waits for him to say the password. He doesn’t remember. Thinking back, shuffling through memories, he realises they’re all clouded over and unclear. He can hardly remember anything. Not even the password. He turns to James, who already knows what he’s about to ask, and he says it instead. As they pass the sofas and chairs, people look up to greet James. Never me. Peter thinks.
They enter the dorm. He lies on his bed, curtains still open, silencing charm not on yet. He listens to James rummaging through his mess of a trunk. “It’s in here somewhere…” is muttered more than once. He murmurs goodbye when James leaves. Uses his wand to close the curtains. Cries into his pillow, like he planned, of course. He ends up studying a bit afterwards, but when he quizzes himself, he can’t answer any of the questions. He doesn’t know why he even tried. Lying back in bed, he stares up at the ceiling. His eyes slip shut, and he goes to sleep.
Occasionally, he jolts awake to Sirius or James crashing about the room, loudly talking about something. When they try to call out for him, he pretends to be asleep. He renews the silencing charm after every interruption.
His dreams are plagued with hurtful words and scowling faces. The sleep leaves him more tired than reality.
…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ…
James worried for his friends a lot. He knew that much. But there was very obviously something up with Peter.
He’d tried to bring it up one night, when him, Sirius and Remus were lying in bed. The mood had been new then.
“Don’t you think Peter has been looking more down lately? He’s stopped going to meals, as well.”
Remus shrugs, “Maybe he’s feeling a bit upset. We all have our down days.”
“I’ll check on him.” Sirius says, nodding.
Tonight, though, it was the full moon, and Peter’s animagus form definitely did not look good. The once agile and energetic rat was now slower and clumsier than before. Prongs was lying down at some point and Wormtail went past. He could see scratches on the rat’s little hind legs. It had also struggled to hang onto him whilst riding on his head. He could feel its little claws digging deeper than they usually did.
Wormtail fails to distract Moony from Padfoot. Pads gets hurt. When the full moon was over, Peter has a haunted look in his eye. They rush Sirius back to the dorm. They hardly were able to check on Remus before leaving. They knew Madame Pomfrey would arrive soon if they didn’t hurry, so they couldn’t linger too much.
Once they’ve gotten to the dormitory, Peter has apologised at least twenty times. He seems frantic as he scrambles around for dittany and painkillers. Sirius assures him it’s okay, but he doesn’t look convinced. Moony didn’t ever attack them anymore, not really. It wasn’t Peter’s fault for not being prepared. It’s worrying how upset he is. James shares more than one worried glance with Sirius as he helps heal the wound. It leaves a jagged scar over his upper arm.
After that, James leaves Peter alone even less. He’d made an effort to stick with him, especially after meals, but he needed to try harder now. He needed to make sure he was okay. James had loved Peter for too long and too much to let him get hurt like this.
When they’d first met, he had fallen in love immediately. Of course, he didn’t really know what this meant at the time, because they’d met very young. But even when Lily came along, he still held space in his heart for Peter. Then everything with Remus and Sirius happened. They never mentioned Peter, and it all went along from there… Albeit, James has noticed them interact differently with Pete. They’ve started talking about him. Until one day Sirius approached him and told him he wanted to talk to Pete about how he felt.
Remus had done pretty much the same. James just hopes that they don’t get their hearts crushed.
…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ…
Peter gasps, tears rolling down his cheeks as he lets out choked sobs. The guilt from the full moon the other day had been growing, weighing heavier on his shoulders until eventually, it all boiled over. He’s now sitting on the edge of his bed. A silencing and locking charm cover the curtains. The familiar feeling of the blade is between his fingertips. He’s never liked to use magic, no, that was too painless. Your own magic trying to injure itself isn’t good. So, he uses a blade he managed to get from a muggle shop.
He thinks back to the moment. It replays, over and over. Usually he’d cut a line for every shitty thing he’d done. But today he cuts more, three for every rude sentence, five for every look, until for one cut he cuts deep for the incident. Deeper than usual. It feels… good. Better. So, he cuts deeper. His thigh is covered in cuts. Old marks, some raised lines whilst others are simply red marks, are overlapped with the new ones. Blood gathers and falls with every swipe. He knows the basic layers of skin, and he’s pretty sure he’s gone quite far down.
Blood lazily leaks down, staining his duvet. The duvet cover is a gift Remus got him when he got into muggle comics. Another wave of guilt washes over him, and he lets out more choked sobs. Why can’t he do anything right? He’s so fucking useless, a waste of space. The others must hate him so much. People always say how they’d be better off without him. If he died, no one would miss him. Maybe he should die. It’s not like anyone would care. They would probably celebrate, even. Finally, free from that whiny little kid, Is what they’d say at the funeral. Finally, he’s gone.
He’s so ugly and fat as well. Even if he wasn’t annoying, he still let the others down by looking awful. He’d always been bigger. Avoided. Disliked. Laughed at. When the others were busy, he had been bullied. So even if he was nice, it wasn’t worth it. The others are probably disgusted whenever they speak to him. At least if he died, they wouldn’t have to look at him anymore. He should. He should die.
At this point, it feels like death is the only way out. When he thinks about his future, a pit of hopeless opens in him. He doesn’t want to live out the rest of his days in pain. He doesn’t want to watch the people he loves not love him back. What will he even do as a job? He’s not smart. He never has been. He’s never going to live past twenty. He can’t. He has to go sooner or later.
The thoughts invade his mind, even as he does the bad stitch charm, even as he glamours his leg just in case, even as he scourgifies the sheets. He slips on pyjamas. Getting up, he winces. The cuts are painful. Tomorrow, they’re going to be way too sore for it not to be noticeable. He’ll have to be careful. He hobbles over to the curtains, and heads to the bathroom.
On the way, he looks at the two empty, untouched beds, and the one with closed curtains. It looks the right size from the outside, but had been magically enlarged, which could be seen when someone opened the curtains. An ugly thing of jealousy goes through him at the thought of being the only one left. He huffs and turns his head to the door. Going into the bathroom, he immediately looks in the mirror. His face is slightly pale and there’s bags under his eyes. His hands shake slightly. He’s noticeably skinnier than before, but sometimes he has episodes where he eats and eats and eats and eats, so he hasn’t made much progress. It hurts. He looks down. Washes his hands. Goes back to bed.
The voices and thoughts start up again. He doesn’t get any sleep until late that night.
He wakes up to a dull ache across his whole body. It’s worse in his thighs. He groans, rolling over before instantly regretting his decision. Today is a Wednesday, so he has to walk across the castle like this. Fuck. Today was not going to be enjoyable, was it?
He gets up. Grimaces when his pyjama bottoms stick to his leg. He’d definitely cleaned most of the blood, but some must’ve leaked out of the wounds. The stitching charm wasn’t very good when it wasn’t coming from a trained healer. He renews the glamours on his thighs. He swipes a hand over his eyes and face to make sure there’s no leftover tears, and opens his curtains.
Immediately, James notices him and whips his head around, grinning. He turns around from the nightstand he was in front of, a couple papers slipping off of it from his haste, “Morning, Pete! Remus is in the shower right now. Sirius still isn’t up, obviously,” He chuckles. “Good sleep?”
He hums, nodding. “How long ‘til Rem’s out? I really need a good shower right now.” He tries a smile. He does need a shower. His legs feel sticky and gross. His body feels horrible after last night. A shower won’t help, but it’s nice to hope it will.
“Soon, soon.” James waves a hand around vaguely.
Peter grabs his clothes whilst waiting. When Remus was out the shower, he carefully avoids looking at the other boy and steps into the bathroom. He tries to limp as subtly as he can. James still frowns at him as he leaves.
He showers with the lights off, as usual. His legs hurt. Once out, he dries himself. He slips on his uniform. Steadies himself — despite how much his legs hurt still — and leaves the bathroom. Sirius is awake now. He watches him walk over to his bed and grab his things, and frowns the same way James did.
“Pete,” he starts carefully. “Are you limping?”
He tries not to show a physical reaction to that, instead turning around and pretending to look confused. “No, why? I think I hurt my leg doing something yesterday, but I’m not limping.”
“Hmm, okay…” the others look at him suspiciously. James is outright staring. His eyebrows are furrowed. Remus narrows his eyes. He shifts uncomfortably under their looks, and suppresses a wince as more pain shoots up his leg. He turns back around and grabs the rest of his things. He feels dizzy from panic. His heart races. He tries to steady his breathing to not seem like he’s panicking.
Other than a couple murmured conversations, the dorm is mainly quiet as everyone gets ready. When they are, they meet with the girls and head down. As always, at breakfast, he picks at his food. He drifts in and out of conversation. What happened this morning… what happened wasn’t good. If he isn’t careful, they’ll know something’s up. Hell, they most likely already think so. Still. He can’t let them find out.
He stops at the bathrooms on the way to class. His throat burns after.
…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ…
His first lesson was divination. Mary was in this one with him. They’d taken it together because it was fun, and they both did generally well. Now his grades were slipping. But the chats with Mary were still fun. Especially when they made up dreams or visions. They used to have a challenge of who could make up the craziest thing. Then he stopped eating properly, and everything went down hill from there.
Today, when they sit down, Mary casts him a concerned glance. It travels to his legs under the table more than once. He knows he’s been looking slightly worse for wear recently, but it’s not that bad. Not enough for her to be worried. A strike of guilt goes through him. Then irritability. Had Sirius talked to her about this morning? Couldn’t he just stay quiet about it?
His suspicions are confirmed when Mary says, “Hey Peter. I had a lovely sleep last night. Anyway, heard you were limping this morning. You alright?”
He gives a tight smile, nodding. She was always blunt like that. Luckily, he didn’t have to make any excuses this time. Professor Ota started talking right after she’d spoken. He listens to bits and pieces, drifting in and out of daydreaming. Today they were to work on their palmistry skills. Peter used to be pretty good at this. He found it fascinating how every line could mean something different. But now he fumbled with his book, flicking through the pages to find what line meant what on Mary’s hand.
“Let me have your palm,” says Mary softly. Relieved to be free from his struggle, he lays his hand on her outstretched one. She hums as she traces the lines. “I’ve been worried about you, you know. You’ve been drifting. I’ve also noticed you haven’t been eating much lately. Or being secretive about it.” She looks up at him, her eyes scanning his face. She looks so worried and upset he can’t help but feel insanely guilty for it. He doesn’t want to hurt her.
By now, she’s put down his hand. Instead, she lays the hand on his cheek. How can she even bear to touch him? “Peter, I’m always here to talk. There are people and places that can help. I don’t want you to end up dead, Peter, please.” She wipes a stray tear from her face. She looks like she’s about to start sobbing. “Don’t go about this alone. You’ll take to me if you’re struggling, right? You swear you’re okay?”
His voice is crackly when he speaks, “Yeah. I swear.”
Her face crumples for a second before going back to normal. She knows it’s a lie. Instead of pushing, she hold his hand up again, and continues with what they have to do, albeit with teary eyes this time. There is a hopelessness in them that makes the guilt even worse.
…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ…
It all goes downhill from there. Everything. After divination, Professor Ota had to talk to him about his work. The rest of that day was a daze, full of pain and spacing out. He did alright in transfiguration, probably. He did the task on the first couple tries, he thinks. He can’t remember. The day after is worse.
A faint pain is all that’s left from the other night. He manages to get around school mostly fine with less worried glances than yesterday. Dinner is where everything goes wrong. Firstly, he eats more than usual. It’s not much, but it’s noticeable. The food sits heavy in his stomach. It’s a constant reminder of his guilt.
They head back to their dorms for the evening, with Sirius dramatically declaring, “I’m fucking exhausted. Definitely an early night tonight.” Whilst stretching his arms above his head. They get to their room, bidding the girls good night — Mary looked happier today than yesterday, and he can’t decide if he should feel guilty or happy about that — before closing the door. Lily, Mary and Marlene always liked to walk them to their dorm, because the boys couldn’t go near the girls’ dormitory. They’ve done it since forever.
Inside the room, James immediately throws himself onto the bed, his arms and legs splayed across like a starfish. Remus drops onto another bed, humming. He murmurs the incantation they’ve dubbed the “editing spell”, which allows them to edit the map whenever required.
“Turns out, we’ve somehow completely missed a passageway on the fourth floor. It leads to the maze of them.” He carefully draws a line on the fourth floor, at one of the corridors. The maze of passageways was various passages that connected with each other. When they first found them, they had to explore them out for days to make sure they were accurate on the map.
Sirius, now lying on his stomach on top of James with his eyes closed, raises a thumb. “Sick.” He mutters.
Peter nods and heads to the bathroom. He shuts the door behind him, locks it, and takes a deep breath as he slides down to the floor. Today was stressful. Everyday has been stressful. School is going awfully. He covers his eyes with his hands and wipes the tears out of them. He shuffles over to the toilet.
He leans over the bowl, gagging for a second before throwing up the little food he ate. It’s mainly stomach bile and water at this point. Barely anything. He retches, trying to get as much food out as possible. He hears murmuring behind the door—
He hears murmuring behind the door.
That means he forgot the silencing spell.
They can probably hear him right now.
Oh shit.
“Peter…” That’s Sirius’ voice outside the door. He knocks gently and his voice is soft. “Are you okay in there?”
He can’t manage a single word. He’s gone pale, staring at the door as if it was see through. His breaths come out in little gasps. He’s also getting dizzy, his vision spinning. He’s been caught. He’s been found out. They’re going to think he’s disgusting. They’re going to think it’s awful, what he’s doing. But they might care about you more now. If he told them, they might care. Or think he’s gross and never speak to him again. It’s a risk he doesn’t want to take. He might be found out now, though, so he might not have a choice.
He feels sick. The pain in his legs starts to flare up. He sits on the floor of the bathroom, knees now drawn up to his chest, head resting on them. They’re going to think I’m revolting. They’re never going to talk to me again, he thinks. His chest feels tightly restricted, all the hopelessness, guilt, and insecurity building up. I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe I can’t brea—
The door suddenly bangs open, revealing a disheveled Sirius. He takes one look at Peter before sitting on the floor next to him, scooting closer until he can hold him against his side. The floodgates open. He bursts into tears. Shame swirls in his gut. Sirius simply holds onto him, rubbing calming circles into his back and murmuring quietly.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—“ he can’t help but ramble. He repeats it, over and over, choking on sobs and shaking. He ruined everything. Today was a nice day, and he ruined it. Everyone was happy. They were about to sleep. If he’d just remembered to use the silencing spell, none of this would’ve happened. He didn’t need help (does he?), not as much as Remus after full moons, or people who actually suffer from things in life. No, he was just being an attention seeking idiot who has now messed up everything. He didn’t deserve to live. Not if he was going to make everyone miserable.
“James, Remus, I need…” he faintly hears Sirius call out, but everything started to cloud over now. It all blends together. A hand wipes at the tears on his face. Someone pulls him away from Sirius, instead enveloping him in a tight hug. He hears them humming, occasionally softly saying, “It’s going to be okay, Pete.” They rock him back and forth as he cries.
Every thought he has, whether it’s guilt, fear, hopelessness or something else, spurs him on, causing him to cry harder. He’s completely inconsolable. Curled up next to this person, rocking him like one would a child, he just wants to believe this is bad dream and he’ll eventually wake up. He drifts off, exhausted and hoping that it is just a nightmare.
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knows this isn’t true.
When he wakes up, the first thing he realises is he is in the hospital wing. He hardly has time to wonder why before all the memories of the night before come rushing back. His eyes shoot open. He looks around, scanning the closed curtains. He’s been changed into pyjamas and he’s uncomfortably aware of the feeling of bandages against his thighs. Two chairs are gathered on one side of his bed. A third is occupied by James, whose hand is laid on his (he ignore the fluttering he feels from that. This is not the time.) and whose face is currently resting against the edge of the bed. He’s sleeping.
He feels so, so guilty for putting him through this. James had been his friend since they were young — then he was more. He didn’t want to put the other through this kind of stress. Not when he’d done nothing to deserve his kindness. It’s crazy how he can stand being near him, let alone holding his hand.
He rests his head back against the pillows. He’s acutely aware of the potion bottles, varying from empty, full and half full, that he’d probably have to take some of later. Not now. He wants to lie here, not have to look at anyone, simply rest before dealing with the consequences of his actions. Mere moments after this thought, his time of rest is ended. The doors to the wing open. The voices of Sirius and Remus float through, although they are hurriedly hushed by an angry Madame pomfrey by the sounds of it.
Feeling James stir, he quickly closes his eyes and evens out his breathing. He doesn’t want to face them. Call him a coward, but he doesn’t want to deal with their rejection. Surely they’re going to hate him after this. He’s been disgusting. Merlin, he didn’t even manage to clean the bathroom after throwing up. One of them probably had to do it. More guilt to add to the pile.
He hears the swish of a curtain and Sirius and Remus whispering as they approach the bed.
“—wake him up!” Remus says softly. His stomach drops.
“We need to, eventually. Look, Prongs has literally been sleeping by his bed all night. We need to speak to him.” Shit. Admittedly, they had a point, but this meant they would wake him up. He isn’t ready to speak to them. He never will be.
It’s silent for a moment. He’s pretty sure he can feel them staring at him. He has to suppress a flinch as a sudden hand lands on his shoulder, gently shaking him. “We know you’re awake, mate. C’mon.” Sirius quietly says.
He thinks about his options for a second. It’s either: continue pretending to sleep, and humiliate himself as they stand there knowing he’s awake. Or wake up and humiliate himself by being told they don’t want to be friend with him anymore. He decides to go with the latter. If worst comes to worst, he’ll hang out with Mary. They’ll still be friends after this, right?
He blinks his eyes open, eyes darting around. Sirius is standing close to the bed, his face the embodiment of concern, whilst Remus stood a bit further away, carrying something wrapped in a tissue that was probably food. He feels sick even thinking about eating it. He wrenches his eyes away.
Sitting up, he draws his knees to his chest protectively. He mourns the feeling of James’ hand in his as it slips out, only their fingertips brushing after he readjusts. There’s a moment of silence between all of them, before Sirius’ face crumples. He hugs him tightly, as best he can with Peter’s legs in the way.
“Why, Pete? Why?” He murmurs. A wet patch forms on his shoulder where Sirius’ head is resting. He buries his face in the other’s hair as he wraps his arms around him, shaking his head.
“‘M sorry,” he says instead of replying.
Remus walks over, tapping Sirius on the back. Sirius moves away, instead standing near James’ still sleeping body. Remus puts his hands on his shoulders. He sits down on the edge of the bed, forcing Peter to look at him in the eye. “Listen, Pete. This is not your fault.” His voice is firm. “You don’t have to say sorry for anything. At all. Understand?”
He nods.
They chat about nothing and everything after that. They wake up James, who’s also a bit emotional, but they move on. It’s nice distraction.
…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ…
Madame Pomfrey says that she’ll need to watch over him for a couple weeks or so, but he still needs to go to lessons in the meantime. She’d also contacted a mind healer and dietitian to help him. The dietitian was muggle.
The other marauders had basically raided whatever was in his nightstand, under his bed or in his sheets. He felt slightly uncomfortable, but… it was a sign that they cared. They also never left him alone anymore, especially after meals. They didn’t rush him to start eating all of a sudden. They didn’t get mad at him on his bad days, or overly praise him in the good days. They were always happy for him to vent. It was comforting. There was still the sting of jealousy, but he could ignore it for now.
His mind healer was called Estella. She was patient and kind. She never brushed off his worries or thoughts. She helped him find the root of the cause and how to stop it. She also helped him with his thoughts about the future. He was too embarrassed to mention anything about being in love with his friends.
His dietitian, who he met with weekly, was called Elijah. He understood why Peter disliked some things, and helped made a plan that would encourage him to eat that wouldn’t rush him. Eating is still hard, of course. Every bite is a new step of progress. Sometimes he can’t eat at all. Other times he has craves and urges to eat too much. He hasn’t thrown up in a while, though.
There’s always someone by his side when he relapses. Mary is always there for chats, making up things for divination, and to talk about gossip. Lily and Remus have been helping him catch up with school work, slowly but surely. James seems to be glued to his side every chance he gets.
His friends are so, so supportive. He couldn’t ask for better people.
As the months go on, going from early may to late July, eventually it gets to the summer holidays. He’s been doing well in his recovery. Estella warned him that even after years of being clean, many people still relapse into self harm or eating disorders. He refuses to acknowledge the fear that he’ll be one of those people.
At the end of the year, he does well on his exams. His thoughts are slightly clouded with sadness that the end of his school days are rapidly approaching. Next year is seventh, his NEWTs, then he’ll never go to hogwarts again unless he somehow becomes a professor. He gets these cloudy feeling of sadness occasionally. It sucks.
They make plans for the summer. Peter will come over to the Potters’ house two weeks into summer, and Remus after three weeks. They huddle up in the train, in their usual compartment, making ideas for next year’s pranks. They also think of ideas for what to do during the summer. He has to go to the bathroom a couple times to calm himself of the jealousy that threatens to overwhelm him.
…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ…
It’s the fourth week into the summer holidays, and Peter’s second week at the house. Remus has been here for one. All four of them have been doing pretty much everything together, but at night, he can hear them sneak into each other’s rooms. He’s still been struggling to sleep. This makes it worse. It feels like his body is waiting for them to sneak around, just to torture him by reminding him they will never love him that way.
After one of these nights, listening to Sirius’ almost silent footsteps enter James’ room, he gets sick of it and decides to go outside instead. He puts on a jumper, shoves on his socks and shoes, and quickly tiptoes downstairs before Remus can catch him. He quietly opens the back door and walks out into the garden. He lies on the grass, staring at the stars as he tries to control the tidal wave of jealousy and hurt. The dew on the grass soaks his jumper, making him shiver. The grass tickles the back of his neck.
Sirius had trained them all on how to spot the simpler constellations. He manages to find Ursa Major and Ursa Minor pretty quickly. He’s never been great at the others. Out here, though, staring at the endless little dots in the sky, he can calm down. Not have to think about anything more than a couple bears. He sighs contentedly to himself. Hopefully, once he gets back inside, he can sleep easier.
His head jerks towards the door as it creaks open. Remus, just a dark figure in the doorway, is staring at him. He lifts himself up so he’s sitting instead.
“You look a bit creepy, just standing and staring.” He teases, keeping his voice soft so he doesn’t wake up the other members in the house.
Remus just shrugs, a small smile on his face as he makes his way over to him. He lies on the grass and Peter follows suit. His voice is low and quiet as he talks. “The others were worried for you. I mentioned I heard your footsteps and they thought you were…” he seems to be struggling to find the right words. “…going to do something else.” His voice is low and quiet. He stares at the stars. His arm is at his side, close to Peter’s.
“…oh.” He murmurs. They lie in silence for a moment. He can see Remus’ ever shaky hands out the corner of his eye. Every few seconds, it inches closer. He tries not to get too flustered.
“Don’t worry, they know you’re alright. What were you doing out here, though?”
His mind races for a convincing answer. He can’t just say, “Well I’m so jealous of your relationship that I can’t sleep at night, because I’m in love with all three of you haha. Hope that’s alright!” No. There’s been too long of a pause now, so he awkwardly stutters out, “I just… I just fancied a, a stargaze, I guess.”
The other nods. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t believe him, but he doesn’t want to look at his face, or shift any part of his body. Their fingertips are brushing. There’s no doubt Remus can hear his heart beat with how loud it’s pounding. He tries to concentrate on the stars, but there’s only so much to look at, and he only remembers two constellations.
It’s silent for another few minutes, save for Remus humming under his breath. He sighs. “I keep hearing you guys sneak into each other’s rooms every night.” He admits.
“Ah.”
“I…” he’s struggling to find a sentence that doesn’t admit he’s been in love with them for years, nor imply that. “Yeah.” He finishes lamely.
Remus turns his head to look at him. He can feel his eyes scanning his face. He fully intertwines their fingers. His brain short circuits for a second, before catching up with the situation. He’s struggling to keep a straight face, because all that’s happening in his head is a bright red message flashing, we’re holding hands! We’re holding hands!
He must’ve failed at some point. He can see Remus smirk out the corner of his eye. “You got a problem with that, or…?”
“No no! Merlin, no. I just…” he trails off, shrugging. They’re getting uncomfortably close to revealing the truth now. Remus squeezes his hand encouragingly, making him more flustered. “I don’t.. know. I guess.”
He turns his head to look at the other boy, and oh. Turns out, he hadn’t just been moving his hand, but his whole body. Their noses are almost touching with how close they are. His breath hitches. Remus is staring at him intensely. His eyes are a dark brown, barely visible in the darkness of the night. They’ve both moved so they’re on their sides now, gazing at each other. He can feel the other’s breath on his cheek.
Remus brings their interlocked hands up to the other’s cheek, his hand resting below. A shudder runs through his body. His hand is cold and his cheeks are burning. Remus leans in impossibly more, and when he speaks, the breaths brush against his lips, “Can I kiss you?”
He doesn’t respond verbally, instead moving closer. The kiss is soft. A test. The second is much less soft, it’s all consuming, with Remus pressing his face closer and he tangles his fingers in Remus’ hair. A tongue traces the line between his lips, and he opens his mouth happily, letting it in. Their legs twine together, their hands trail and they do anything that’ll make them as physically close as possible. They kiss until they’re breathless, and then some more. When they stop, he buries his face in Remus’ shoulder. He can feel his panting against his own neck.
“Holy shit,” he mutters once he’s caught his breath. “What about Sirius and James? What will they think of this?”
“They’ll think, ‘wow! One of us actually got our act together!’ And then preach about how much of brave gryffindors they are, or something.” Remus snorts, pressing kisses to any exposed part of his neck he can find.
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh. It’s been a while.” He chuckles softly. “We better head back in before the others come down and harass us.”
It feels slightly awkward to stand up and go back in after making out (wow! They actually like him back! Remus just made out with him!). He’s suddenly distracted by the taller boy holding his hand again, leading him back to the house. He rubs little circles into his wrist with his thumb. They’re quiet as they make their way through the house, slipping off their shoes at the door and heading their way up the stairs.
He’s about to split off to go his own way to his room, but Remus keeps ahold of his hand. He frowns and follows anyway, to James’ bedroom. In there, James and Sirius are piled on top of each other on one side of the bed, fast asleep. It’s a double bed, but has evidently been charmed larger. There’s been a space left for Remus. There’s also a bit of extra space, just big enough to fit someone else and—
It was for him. It was for him. Had they been waiting for him? Had they been wanting to ask? For how long?
Remus pulls off his jumper, grimacing at how wet it is from the grass outside. Peter does the same. They’re now both just in pyjamas. The taller boy pulls him onto the bed. He wraps an arm around his shoulders, tucking him up to his side. Remus hums contentedly for a moment before his eyes slip shut and the arm around him goes limp. He burrows into the warmth of the sheets, smiling. Finally.
He was where he belonged.
…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ…
He got an O on his divination NEWTs. Mary and him celebrate by making up more and more insane predications for the others at the small end of year party they hosted in the dorms.
Nowadays, the only reminder of what happened in his sixth year are the raised white lines on his thighs. He’s comfortable with them, though. Not happy. Comfortable. His boyfriends never make him feel ashamed of them either. They’re all he ever could’ve asked for and more.