Author’s Notes: I’m trying something with this chapter. The second half of it switches POV (it should be pretty obvious when it happens). It should switch back sometime in the next chapter. This is, after all, Sirius’s story to tell.
Chapter 7
… “Remus Lupin.”
James stared.
Sirius held his gaze. As the silence stretched longer and longer, becoming increasingly uncomfortable, he felt the need to look away, or fidget, but he forced himself to stay still.
Finally, James broke the awkward silence. “Lupin?” he asked, sounding strangely calm, as though he were merely trying to clarify some fact for a prank. “As in Professor Lupin? As in our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Professor Lupin?”
Sirius nodded, feeling tense.
“You didn’t say that he was a wizard.”
Sirius shook his head, unable to speak.
“And you did mean here, here,” it wasn’t a question. “I’d thought you meant here, as in this country, here.”
“No,” Sirius managed to get out. “Hogwarts.”
“But I thought he didn’t know you were a wizard.”
“He didn’t,” Sirius replied, still on edge. James didn’t seem to be taking this too badly. “We both thought the other was a Muggle, so neither of us ever mentioned magic.”
“So he’s not here because he followed you?”
“No. He didn’t know I was here. I’d only ever told him I was
from
“Well, if he didn’t follow you, what’s he doing here?” James sounded as though he thought that was the only logical explanation for the man’s appearance at their school.
“Teaching,” Sirius reminded him, relief starting to settle in. “He said he wanted to.”
“Yes,” James nodded agreement. “But why here? Why not teach in
“I don’t think he applied for the job here,” Sirius said slowly, thinking. “He said Dumbledore asked him for a favor and he agreed.”
“How does he know Dumbledore if he didn’t go to Hogwarts?”
“Everyone knows Dumbledore,” Sirius replied with a shrug.
“Yes,” James agreed again. “But if Lupin’s been out of the country for the last, what, decade? How does Dumbledore know him?”
“Hunh.” I hadn’t thought of that. But really… “Well, it’s Dumbledore. He seems to have connections everywhere, doesn’t he?”
“I suppose,” James conceded dubiously. Then his expression changed, becoming more serious. “What happened after class?” he wanted to know. “He kept you behind on purpose. What did he do to you?”
“What makes you think he did something to me?” Sirius inquired.
“I saw you when you came back,” James reminded him. “You looked as if a werewolf had just eaten your firstborn – no offense to werewolves, of course, Mum says they’re not all bad, and she’d know, since she actually used to talk to them quite a bit when she worked at the Ministry’s Department of…” he trailed off, looking apologetic for running off on yet another tangent.
“He didn’t do anything to me,” Sirius said, then sighed. “Nothing he hasn’t done before, at any rate.”
James’s eyes grew very wide. “Did you…”
“What?” Sirius asked, confused. “Did I…” Oh. “Oh. Did we. No. No. We did not.”
“Then what…”
“He told me it was over.” Something in Sirius’s chest constricted painfully and his stomach felt suddenly sick. He hadn’t said the words aloud before. He swallowed – hard. “I mean, I hated it, but I knew it was over before, this summer, but then he was here and I thought –” he paused, and then it felt as though something inside of him snapped and the words were tumbling fast and furious and Sirius could not stop them. “And then I kissed him, and he kissed me back, so I hoped – But he pushed me away and said it was wrong and he’s my teacher and I’m too young, but he’s barely two years older, and he left, and I couldn’t handle it, and he came back, and I couldn’t handle it, so I left, and then you, downstairs, and here, and I had to tell you, because you have to help me, because I love him, and I think he might love me, but I don’t think he’ll ever say it because he’s scared of something and there’s something that he won’t tell me, something I think might be hurting him, and I want to know what it is, because I have to make it stop, because he can’t hurt, nothing can make him hurt, I won’t let it, and I don’t care what I have to do, because I will to anything to help him, if he’d only let me, but I need him. I need him to tell me he loves me. I need him to love me. What if he doesn’t love me? Nobody else loves me. My parents, my brother. Why should he love me? But I love him, and I need him to… Why doesn’t he love me, James? I love him. I love him. So much. Why won’t anyone ever love me?” And, somehow, there were tears sliding down Sirius’s cheeks as fast and free as the words that had poured off his tongue, and his throat had closed off, damming any more sound.
James reached out a hand as if to touch Sirius’s shoulder, then pulled back abruptly, looking unsure.
Sirius stared at him, confusion and hurt threatening to swamp him for a second time that day. The hot droplets of salty water splashed down on the book in his hands, but he barely noticed. He felt lost and sick.
“Sirius…” James hesitated, then his face crumpled in reflected misery. “Fuck,” he swore, and reached out to grab Sirius, hauling his friend towards him and gathering him close in a rough embrace.
– – – – –
Remus Lupin sat alone in his office, staring at an open book without actually seeing it. On the desk before him was a cup of herbal tea that had long since gone cold, his tattered briefcase, and a shallow box full of photographs, ticket stubs, receipts, and a red coffee mug with the phrase ‘Chocolate: the Miracle Cure’ in gold lettering.
His eyes prickled and stung, but remained dry as he stared
blindly at the text before him. He would not cry. He had done enough of that
for one day, done enough for a year, or two, at least. He hadn’t even cried so
much when he was a small boy and… No. He wouldn’t cry. He was doing the right
thing. Had done the right thing, this afternoon, and in
The sudden banging on his door jolted him roughly out of his miserable musings, making him jump slightly in his seat and drop his book. He bent hastily to retrieve the fallen volume and place it on his desk before crossing the room to investigate the disturbance.
He jerked the door open a little more harshly than was necessary and was nearly hit in the face for his pains. Only a quick half-step back on his own part and the swift reflexes of the young man in the corridor saved him from what might have been a broken nose.
Remus blinked at his late-night guest. “Mr. Potter.”
“Professor.”
Somehow, Remus felt the courteous title was meant as an insult. Unsure if he was imagining it or not, he chose to ignore it. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”
The Head Boy casually shoved his hands in the pockets of the jeans he wore under his open robe. “I need to talk to you.”
“Oh?” Remus raised an eyebrow. Something strange was going on. “Isn’t it a bit late for tutoring sessions?”
“I suppose it is,” Potter conceded easily. “So it would seem a good thing, then, that I’m not here for tutoring.”
Remus clicked his tongue softly, beginning to feel irritated. He was too tired and upset for games. Especially with James Potter. “Curfew is well passed, Mr. Potter,” he informed the student. “I realize you are given certain allowances due to your privileged position, but I hardly feel social calls at this hour are appropriate.”
“It’s not exactly a social call, either,” the boy replied smoothly. “And it can’t wait until a more… appropriate… hour. Perhaps you would be so good as to invite me in. I hardly feel this is something you want discussed where anyone could overhear.”
Remus didn’t miss the slightly mocking tone, and his irritation grew, but he refused to let it show. “I highly doubt there is anything so urgent that it cannot wait until tomorrow, Mr. Potter,” he said firmly, not moving away from the door. “It’s very late. Why don’t you stop by here tomorrow before breakfast, and we can discuss whatever this is then?” He’d heard enough about the boy to know he needed to be able to concentrate if he were going to go head to head with Sirius’s best friend.
He started to close the door, deciding that was the end of the matter. But the door didn’t close. There was a foot blocking it.
Remus tried very hard not to grit his teeth. “Mr. Potter, would you kindly remove your foot from my door?”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Professor.” He didn’t seem the slightest bit apologetic about it. “But I really must talk to you tonight. It’s a very personal matter, you see, concerning another one of your students, a very close friend of mine. Sirius Black.”
The bottom dropped out of Remus’s stomach and he almost stumbled. Only his grip on the door kept him from falling. He could feel the blood draining from his face.
A faint look of satisfaction crossed the Head Boy’s visage as though he knew exactly what Remus was feeling and approved. “Ah,” he said, very softly. “I thought that might get your attention. Will you let me in, now? Or shall we have this conversation in the corridor?”
Remus stepped backwards into his office, allowing the dark-haired man entrance, then swiftly shut and locked the door behind his unwelcome guest. As he turned back to the room, he saw the messy-haired intruder settle comfortably into one of the chairs in front of the desk, resting one ankle on the opposite knee.
“What do you want?” he asked as he retreated to his own chair behind the desk, feeling vaguely grateful to have the large, sturdy piece of furniture between himself and this unforeseen accuser. There was something about this boy that screamed danger! despite his apparently serene attitude.
The bespectacled boy gave a small snort, a harsh, almost vicious, look flickering briefly on his face before being replaced by calm passivity. “Do you really care what I want?” he asked, voice quite nearly friendly. “You didn’t care what he wanted, did you?”
Remus said nothing.
After a moment, the hazel-eyed youth continued. “You must know I won’t turn you in. I would never do anything purposefully that might get Sirius into trouble, not real trouble, and certainly not without his consent.”
Remus blinked. Does that mean Sirius doesn’t know he’s here? he wondered.
A single black eyebrow twitched. “No, he doesn’t know I’m here,” Potter informed the professor.
Remus started, he hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud.
The black eyebrow twitched again, more sharply this time, and the expression in the hazel eyes darkened. “He’s asleep. I doubt he would be happy if he knew I were here.”
Remus frowned slightly in confusion.
“He’s very determined that you not be hurt, you see,” Potter said by way of explanation. “He has a good heart, you know, and hates to see anyone in it in any sort of pain. Unfortunately, he’s not always so careful about whom he lets in, or, apparently, to whom he gives it.”
Remus swallowed. This was not going well. How much did this boy actually know? Had Sirius told him everything, or was he only working off a small bit of information? Remus wasn’t sure how he felt about Sirius telling his friend anything, let alone everything, but he supposed he should have expected it, after all he’d heard about James Potter over the summer, the two were obviously very close. A small pang of jealousy wormed its way into Remus’s chest. He tried to throttle it, but only succeeded in tamping it down.
Potter was watching him very closely and the scrutiny was making Remus very nervous.
“If you have something to say, Potter, please get on with it,” he finally snapped. “I have work to do, and you should be in bed.”
The younger man’s eyes narrowed briefly, but his voice, when he spoke, betrayed nothing. “Sirius is closer to me than a brother.”
There was that jealousy again, accompanied by the irrational thought, Is that all there is between them? Brotherhood?
“I don’t like to see him hurt any more than he likes to see his friends hurt. You’ve hurt him. What are you going to do about it?”
Remus stared. This was not what he had expected at all. He wasn’t quite sure what he had expected, but this was certainly not it. How was he meant to respond? He wasn’t even sure how much Sirius had shared.
“I’m sorry I hurt him,” he said slowly, trying to fight the pain welling up inside of him again. “I never meant to. And it’s over now. I ended it.” He never should have let things get so out of hand to begin with. He swallowed. “He should move on.”
“I don’t think you quite understand.” Potter’s hazel eyes had darkened. “I know what happened this summer, and I know what happened this afternoon. He’s in love with you. You know he is, he told you. He’s not going to just move on. When you ended it with him… You’ve completely destroyed him. I barely recognized him when I saw him this evening, he’d been crying so hard. How would you feel if someone ripped out your heart? I didn’t know what to do. I’d never thought anyone would be so cruel as to treat him like this. And you! You know how hard things are for him. You know what his family’s like, how he had to sneak around all summer to be with you. After all that, are you telling me you were just using him? That you got what you wanted, and decided it was too much of a bother to keep him around so you just dropped him, like an old robe?”
“It wasn’t like that –” Remus tried to protest, ill at the thought of how badly Sirius must be hurting for his friend to confront a teacher about it, but then he forced himself to stop. He couldn’t just blurt out to this youth something he was still trying to deny to himself. But Sirius…
Hazel eyes glittered dangerously. “Then what was it like?”
Remus dropped his gaze for a moment, feeling sick and guilty, then looked back up at the boy across the desk. “I never should have let it start.”
Potter’s jaw tightened briefly, then he rose to his feet and moved closer, leaning in over the desk until his face was only a foot from Remus’s. “You disgust me,” he hissed, low and venomous. He moved away slightly, an expression so calm and pleasant on his face it was frightening. “I just want to let you know,” he remarked, voice perfectly amiable, eyes harder than granite, “that if you weren’t a teacher, I would punch you in the face right now, and I’d do it with a smile. After what you’ve put him through, you deserve far worse.”
He pulled back, and, as he turned to go, his elbow caught the corner of the box on the desk, sending it crashing to the floor, the contents spilling out, the mug smashing into pieces as it made contact with the ground, bits of paper fluttering slowly through the air before coming to rest amid the wreckage.
“No!” Remus lunged over the desk, knocking his briefcase and teacup aside in his haste, barely noticing as the cold tea spilled on his book.
Potter leapt out of the way.
Remus knelt, picking up the shards of the mug and cradling them against his chest, somehow feeling worse than he had since returning to his office.
Potter had crouched beside him and was sifting through the mess. “What the hell is all this?” he demanded, voice odd.
Remus looked up, still slightly in shock at the loss of the mug, and saw that the messy-haired boy was staring through his spectacles at several photos of Sirius sleeping in various stages of undress.
TBC
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