Chapter Text
Ruin
Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.
~Hogwarts, 1978~
Remus
It nearly always hurt. Before, through and after. In the seemingly short span between the full moons. When Remus walked, when he sat down or tried to sleep. His broken and mended bones ached. The agony was engraved into his very being. Am I not too young to be in this much pain constantly, he wondered sometimes, laying in one of the beds of the Hospital Wing, always the same one. It felt like his bed at this point. He watched Madame Pomfrey as she tended to yet another wound. A new scar. They stretched across his skin like spider webs, starting at his ankles, crawling up his thighs, across his stomach and up to his neck. Tearing lines across his nose and cheek. Cut through his left eyebrow.
He winced as she wrapped a bandage around his forearm. ‘Sorry, my dear,‘ she whispered. Her voice was strained. Remus didn't answer, he stared at the ceiling. Watched the shadows cast by the flickering candlelight. Whenever she sounded like that, the scar would be deep and remain so. Since it was a magical wound, it would always hurt a bit. He was used to that. Didn't make it better but it is what it is. He nearly scoffed. It was hard not to become cynical. Not to be angry constantly.
James always said he looked bold with his scars. Heroic. Bullshit, Remus thought, gritting his teeth as Madame Pomfrey moved on to the next cut. He hadn't fought, hadn't done anything good. Nothing brave. He was just damned. Had a beast under his skin tearing him apart. A little more every full moon. It wasn't a courageous thing. It was a curse.
He fell asleep before Madame Pomfrey was done wrapping him up. It was exhausting turning into a monster. Felt like dying and never got any better. The transition demanded sacrifice. His body an altar for the bloody offerings.
He woke a little later startled. Crawled out of deep dreams full of misty clearings and haunting screeches.
‘Moony?‘
A warm hand lay upon his shoulder. The fingers prickling on his skin that was covered in cold sweat. James Potter withdrew his hand. Sat down on a chair next to his bed. The white paint of it had almost completely peeled off. Remus watched a flake of crusty paint fall to the floor.
‘How are you?‘ James asked. His dark hair tousled, glasses slid down his nose. He was wearing a maroon sweater that was too big for him. Worn out, the seams ripped open. Obviously stretched wide beyond the original fit.
‘Why are you still wearing that old thing, Jamie?‘
‘Why…what?‘ James looked down at himself. Pulled the hem with two fingers. ‘Because it was a present,‘ he looked back at Remus as if that were obvious.
"Yeah, from me in 5th grade. How do you even fit in there anymore?" Remus reached out and pulled a unraveled thread out of the sweater. He saw James grin the same moment he recognized what he'd said.
‘Funnily enough, I get asked this question quite often, you know,‘ James winked at him. A dumb smile stretching across his handsome face.
‘Oh shut up, you git,‘ Remus groaned. James laughed. It made the room warmer. Brightened the grey sky outside. James could do that. Always could.
‘We weren't much help this time, weren't we,‘ James said, still laughing. That was good. Remus trained them to do that. At some point he could no longer bear his friends' grief for him. So he made jokes. And they followed. It was better than pity. Better than being a burden. A bigger one than he already was, that is.
‘I can't remember,‘ Remus said.
‘Of course not,‘ James pushed his glasses up, ‘you were fast this time. Looked like you wanted to hunt. You seemed…angry. I mean, more than usual. We lost you at some point.‘
Remus sat up. The bed creaked. His arms were burning. A bandage slid down. Blood-soaked fabric on the white sheets. James stared at it. Remus grabbed it and threw it in a nearby bin.
‘It's not your fault. Never is,‘ he said, attempting an encouraging smile. James looked up. Hazel eyes boring into him.
‘Are you alright?‘
Remus knew what he meant. He meant Is there anything apart from turning into a monster occasionally that concerns you?
He nodded. Couldn't even fathom to tell James how he felt. He wouldn't know where to start, didn't have the words.
‘Where are Sirius and Peter?‘ Remus asked. Because he actually wanted to know and because he wanted to distract James. Wanted to escape his attentive eyes. The piercing gaze. He'd never been good at deceiving James, but at least he was polite enough to take the bait.
‘Transfiguration tutoring‘, he answered.
‘And you?‘ Remus raised an eyebrow.
James grinned. Lopsided: ‘Don't need it.‘
Remus threw his hands up in the air, ‘Course you don't. Brilliant little Quidditch captain and overachiever that you are.‘
‘Oh fuck off, as if you need it,‘ laughed James and punched him slightly. It hurt a bit but Remus didn't flinch.
‘Sirius doesn't either, so what's he doing there? Keeping Peter company?‘
James shrugged his shoulders, ‘I guess. Or he's still after that Ravenclaw chaser.‘
Remus scoffed, ‘He can't take no for an answer, can he?‘
‘He's not used to people not fawning over him,‘ James whispered, wiggling his eyebrows. Remus laughed again. It hurt his ribs.
‘I'll let you rest,‘ James got up. The chair legs scraped across the floor. He nodded towards the shabby table next to Remus' bed. ‘Notes from today's lessons. Ignore the...body parts Sirius scribbled on them. Oh, and Wormy got you chocolate, that is buried in there somewhere too. Maybe I took a bite,‘ he tensed his arms and raised them above his head, ‘growth phase. I need all the nutrition I can get.‘
The sweater slid down, exposing tanned forearms. How that could be at the beginning of October remained a mystery to Remus. He thought he remembered dimly that James had been away on vacation with his family during the last school holidays.
James lowered his arms and Remus moved before he knew what he was doing. His hand shot forward. Fingers closed around James' wrist, who winced. Very slightly. Remus let go of him as if he'd burnt himself on James' skin.
‘What is it, mate?‘ James immediately regained his composure. A smile returned to his face in seconds.
‘Would you stay? For a bit?‘ Remus didn't look at him. He suddenly had his eyes on the bits of paint on the floor again.
‘Sure thing. Just thought you wanted to get rid of me and relax and were only too kind to say so,‘ James pushed Remus to the side and swung himself awkwardly onto the bed next to him. Remus was pushed to the edge. ‘Ouch, fuck,‘ he laughed, pushing James back.
‘Hey, you want my company, you get my company,‘ James announced and the bed groaned alarmingly.
‘If you break the bed, Madame Pomfrey will kill you,’ Remus warned, watching James reach for the chocolate and notes. ‘You know me,‘ James exclaimed ,‘I'm somewhat of a rebel.‘
‘You're somewhat of an idiot,‘ Remus replied and snatched the chocolate from James' hand, which had indeed been bitten into. The golden wrapping paper was torn.
‘Ok, now I can at least tell you what we covered in History of Magic today,‘ James blinked at him. Remus groaned. He watched as James rummaged through the notes and bit into the chocolate, which was wonderfully sweet and nutty. His eyes fell on the calendar.
‘Hey, it's Friday, isn't it?‘
James nodded absently, flipped through the notes and suddenly held some up in the air, ‘Aha - found it. Oh damn, Sirius has drawn something on it. Could be an upside-down pumpkin or a…‘
‘You've got Quidditch training!‘ Remus interrupted him. James looked at him, ‘And?‘
‘And you should be there since you're the captain?‘ Remus drew his eyebrows lower. ‘Nah, Sirius got it, I'm sure,‘ he stated.
Unimpressed by Remus' annoyed eye roll. ‘I don't want a pity-stay, you know?‘ Remus muttered. That seemed to make James laugh. ‘The fuck's funny about that?‘ Remus swallowed a big piece of chocolate. It scratched his throat.
‘You can be mighty thick sometime, ya' know that?‘ James shook his head. As if he couldn't believe what Remus was saying. As if it was so absurd to be at training rather than here with him. Permanently ill monster boy that he was.
‘Training's important. I mean, it's beyond me why you fly on those damn wooden sticks through wet weather and try to kill each other but I know you need to train. You can leave. It's fine,‘ he ate the rest of the chocolate and looked away. Scanned the other empty beds.
‘I won't dignify that with an answer,‘ James replied, wiggled around on the bed until he had a comfortable position and began to decipher his own notes. Remus remained stiff for a while. The sweet aftertaste of chocolate on his tongue, listening to James' voice. It had started to rain. The drops splashed against the windows. After a while, he turned to James.
‘Thank you,‘ he said and leaned backwards. Head on James' shoulder. He saw out of the corner of his eye that James was smiling. He read on, trying to make out Sirius' obscene scribbles every few pages.
Evan
Evan was bored. It was something he felt quite often lately. A certain lack of interest that was coupled with restlessness. It was difficult to describe. Unpleasant to feel. Made him press his palms onto his closed eyes until he saw white stars. His body seemed to tingle. Fingertips too warm, clothes scratchy.
‘Bloody hell, is this the longest day ever or what?‘ he groaned, taking his hands from his eyes and standing up. Blood rushed into his legs, straw-blonde hair hung in his eyes. He swayed briefly. The backs of his knees brushed against the sagging couch.
‘The fuck's going on with you today?‘ Barty looked up at him, annoyed. He had a tattered book in his hand. A silver-green tie was wrapped around his wrist. Tawny hair hung down over his eyebrows. He absently brushed it out of his face. Sat up. Evan stared at the imprint he left on the velvet green couch. Then he looked around the common room, which was almost empty. A few small groups were sitting together. It was a cold, grey October day. Felt more like the end of November. Frost was already creeping across the landscape and gnawing at the castle.
‘I'm bored stiff. Can't we do something?‘
‘Evan, give ma a break. It's the weekend. And I'm doing something,‘ he held up his book.
Evan stared at him, ‘You're kidding me. You're doing what? Reading? Great. You'll definitely be top of your class. Can't wait when you get flowers for it.‘
Barty scoffed, ‘Oh, shut up. It's about great dark wizards of the ages.‘
‘Fascinating,‘ Evan replied, looking away. He watched the fireplace for a few moments. Then grabbed his jacket and a pair of leather gloves.
‘What's your plan? It's fucking pissing down out there,‘ Barty lowered his book.
‘Buddy, either I go out alone or throw your book in the fire and make you come with me,‘ he raised his hands and wiggled his fingers, ‘What's it gonna be?‘
‘Oh, fuck off then,‘ Barty grumbled, sank back and opened his book again. Evan grinned, turned towards the exit and took the path in five long strides. Meanwhile, he pulled on his jacket and gloves.
He had crossed two corridors when he ran into Regulus.
‘Where are you off to?‘ Regulus looked up at him. Grey bluish eyes behind black curls. He was wet, shivering a bit. Raindrops beaded off the tip of his nose.
‘Out,‘ Evan replied.
‘Why? The weather's shit. If I hadn't had Quidditch training, I wouldn't have left my bed,‘ Regulus wrung out his robes. Water splashed onto the stone floor.
‘You know what, you can snuggle up on the couch with Barty because you two seem to have turned into delicate little damsels. He can read to you. You can sip some tea. I, for one, am going out. I'm freaking out in this damn castle,‘ Evan turned and ran off.
‘Good talk,‘ Regulus called after him. Evan heard a mumbled wanker, raised his middle finger without looking back and rounded the next corner, nearly knocking over a suit of armor and felt icy cold wind on his face as he passed an open window.
His boots stepped in sodden earth as he walked down the stone steps of the castle. The rain poured down heavy. The grounds smelled of moss and musty lake. He pulled his hood over his head, shoved his hands into his pockets and marched towards the Great Lake. He met no one. Watched the grey sky pour out more and more water.
When he'd reached the shore he closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Ice-cold drops fell on his eyelids, wetted his lips and flowed down his neck.
‘You're not going to drown yourself, are you? Not in the mood to jump in after you.‘
Evan opened his eyes. Blinked a few raindrops from his eyelashes and turned around.
A tall boy stood leaning against a tree. He was dressed in an oversized shabby coat that was soaked through. Light brown hair, dyed darker by the rain, was brushed from his face. A single strand fell over his left brow, through which a scar ran. He had a cigarette in his mouth, fished it from his lips with two fingers and coughed.
The cigarette smoldered between his fingers, which were trembling. Evan's gaze fell on his lips, which were also marked by a thin scar.
‘Lupin,‘ he said.
The boy addressed coughed again. ‘Rosier,‘ his voice sounded roughened up. As if he had recently strained his vocal chords. Circles under his eyes made him look gaunt.
‘Why do you smoke that muggle shit?‘ Evan walked towards him. Lupin didn't move. He just shrugged his shoulders, rolled the cigarette between his long fingers and put it back between his lips. It hung in the corner of his mouth and smoldered there until a raindrop hit the tip and it went out steaming.
‘Ah man, shit,‘ Lupin spat it out. It landed on the wet grass. He rummaged in the pocket of his coat, pulled out a crumpled square packet and held it out to Evan.
“Want one?”
Evan stared at the packet. It was red and crushed. Something white peeked out of Lupin's sleeve. A bandage, Evan thought, and reached for a cigarette. He put it between his lips. It was dented. Tobacco crumbled out of the tip.
Lupin pulled a lighter out of his coat pocket, clicked the metal cog and lit the cigarette. Evan took a drag, coughed and took it out of his mouth. The bitter taste settled on his tongue and crept down his throat. ‘Why are you using that thing and not a wand?‘ he nodded to the lighter, which Lupin slipped back into his coat pocket.
‘You don't have to use magic for everything, do ya?‘ he watched Evan for a moment, then his hazel eyes slid past him. Lost focus and stared into the distance. ‘You should, you're a wizard,‘ Evan stated and took another drag. It tingled on his tongue. Made his brain feel foggy.
‘Yeah, 'm sure that's the blood purist shit you and your besties tell yourself, isn't it?‘ Lupin looked back at him. Raindrops on his eyelashes. They're long, Evan thought. He clicked his tongue. Pulled up one corner of his mouth, ‘You want to talk about pureblood politics?‘ He got the shadow of a smile for that.
‘Nah, not really. I mean, it's pissing me off. People thinking like that,‘ Lupin pushed his hand through his hair. Evan noticed thin scars stretching across his fingers. The wet sleeve of his coat slipped down and a soaked bandage was fully revealed.
Evan blew smoke out of the corner of his mouth. Watched the rain cut through the little cloud.
‘How do you know what I think?‘
They looked at each other. Lupin blinked a few raindrops from his eyelashes. They streamed down his face. He's handsome, Evan thought, in a tortured, stubborn kinda way. As if he's trying not to be.
‘I can tell,‘ Lupin replied and rubbed water from his cheeks with the back of his hand. ‘Can you now?‘ Evan scoffed. Amused. The cold wind came up very suddenly. It pushed brown leaves over their shoes, tugged at their clothes and stung in Evan's eyes. He blinked a few times. Lupin wasn't wearing a scarf and water ran down his neck in streaks. There were more scars. Thin and white. Healed and fresh ones crisscrossing over each other.
‘Staring is a sign of bad manners, you know,‘ said Lupin and pushed the collar of his coat higher. His fingers were white. The tips almost blue. They shook ever so slightly. Evan didn't answer.
‘Why have we never talked before?‘ he lifted his gaze, their eyes lingering on each other. Lupin's mouth curled into a smile that didn't reach his eyes: ‘What would we have to say to each other?‘
Evan nodded slightly. There was truth to that. People around them despised each other so maybe they'd avoided the other one out of principle?
‘So why are we talking now?‘ it was a thought that formed into a sentence before Evan could stop it tumbling from his tongue.
Lupin shifted his weight. Made a step towards Evan. Looked him up and down. Estimating. They were the same height. Roughly.
Lupin reached out and pulled the cigarette from Evan's lips. There wasn't much left of it. Eyes still staring into Evan's. ‘Because it's raining and October is too fucking cold this year,‘ Lupin smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling briefly. He put the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and turned around, put his hands in the pockets of his coat and began to walk away. His feet in black boots, mud stuck to the soles. Evan stared after him.
He only moved again when a rumble of thunder broke open the sky and the rain became so heavy that he couldn't see more than five feet in front of him. He turned away too and walked towards the castle. The bitter taste of ash and tobacco on his tongue. No thoughts, except that he should have given Lupin his gloves. For his hands were shaking so badly.