The Aftermath

So far the train ride had been dismal. This trip was yielding a storm worse than the previous year's one, but the present rain wasn't as foreboding and that was good. More or less, it was just heavy and weary; hammering down on the Hogwarts Express in an almost dejected way, as if it had better things to do but knew this was to be the routine. Remus understood.

Lupin was seventeen now and, despite the usual problems that went along with being such an age at such a school in, one would assume, such a world, the teenager was feeling especially ambivalent; the previous year had heralded utter betrayal, forays into recreational illicit drug use and far too many meaningless (anonymous) love affairs in between.

A tattered novel was held loosely in his slender hands, but his attention seemed to be directed elsewhere, which was hardly surprising. Wearing a black t-shirt and fraying jeans that, unlike his school robes, revealed a hopelessly flat stomach and long legs, he turned his head and examined his reflection in the window. Overgrown locks of sepia hung in front of his eyes, but he didn't appear to mind, and a long thin scratch disfigured his otherwise smooth cheek. Transformations without his companions proved to be his worst and his frail body was now bearing the unpleasant souvenirs from those nights alone.

Let the scars form. It didn't really matter to him anymore. And why should it? He no longer had people he cared enough about to make the effort for; his capability to trust seemed lost. Sirius Black - black as his name. How could he have been trusted with such an enormous secret? Lupin was amazed, and slightly disgusted, with himself for having divulged his secret to such an individual. Granted, Sirius had made it this far along already, but somehow that only seemed to make the weight on Remus' chest heavier. Years of trust, years it had taken to build the connection between the four of them - all of it now shattered. As the shards settled, and as he realized that perhaps it was all nothing more than a carefully constructed illusion from the start, he'd quickly put up an invisible barrier. An outcast, branded as such, and nothing more; a werewolf wasn't meant to have companions.

The lycanthropic wizard shifted his position and cast his amber-tinted eyes downwards. Dark circles were visible beneath them, as though sleep was something that he had long since forgotten. Laughter and the chatter of overexcited first- and second-years drifted into his compartment, and a scowl emitted from the teen. How dare they? What, exactly, was so wonderful that such mirth was necessary? Kids, Remus thought irritably.

He gave a yawn and opened the book that he had abandoned earlier. Yellowing pages curled at the edges, and it felt as though it might disintegrate should it be handled too roughly. It wasn't even his, really. He had found it lying on the platform, most likely discarded by its previous own due to its mundane contents. Lupin read the same line no less than five times, but his mind seemed incapable of processing the words. He felt his eyelids growing heavier...

Remus had known - threshold of revelation, they called it - that there was a boggart in the cupboard. He had known and he'd went ahead and opened it like the Gryffindor he was sometimes afraid to be.

"How could you have trusted him?" Snape asked, billowing black robes daunting even as they covered a very thin body that was more bone than muscle. Black beady eyes, a shameful red from crying, no doubt, were focused intently on the werewolf as he strode from the cupboard toward the other boy in a ghostly fashion, boot-clad feet not really connecting with the worn hardwood of the most Lupin kitchen.

"I told you - though indirectly - that they, that HE, would ruin it all. And you knew better. You know better now, too. You don't even hate him, do you?" the hook-nosed apparition inquired, hovering near the frozen teenager beside the sink, wand still outstretched.

"You aren't... you aren't real. N-not Severus. You're a boggart. I've done this..." Lupin began, feeling the colour drain from his face as he walked backwards, instinctively, as any cornered animal would, along the sink and counter.

"They tormented me and you watched, while all the while I knew you would let it slide until it was too late. Some Gryffindor you are, Mr Lupin..." the boggart said, suddenly shrinking in height and widening considerably after the second sentence. The black hair remained, but now it was naturally crimped instead of slick and shoulder-length. The face, round and sneering, was that of Professor Scamander, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for the boy's fifth and sixth year.

Smugly clasping its hands behind its back, the professor-boggart slowed its unnatural pace and leered at the teenager with more cunning eyes, for he was more reserved and less panicky than the Slytherin student's apparition. A young professor (boggart, Remus reminded himself) but still so assertive.

"Such conflicting feelings, hmm? Typical of such creatures - werewolves are always torn between the wolf and the man, aren't they? Seems you've shown which instinct is stronger, Mr Lupin. As expected!"

Remus had stopped short of the corner where the door to the pantry and the fridge met, amber eyes wide with horror. The derision of the professor was masterfully mimicked by the boggart.

Something suddenly clicked in the teenager's mind, usually so fast and calculating. Patronus. He needed to use a Patronus.
Remus took a deep breath and raised his arm, wand trembling. The apparition noted this and gave a hushed laugh. Brow furrowed, the boy tightened his grip and tried to summon the focus needed to successfully perform the spell.

"Expecto..."

Scamander moved closer.

"Expecto..."

He was only a mere foot away.

"EXPECTO PATRO-"

"Hey. Remus. Wake up, Rems."

Waking with a start, the lycanthrope was rather sure that his heart had ceased to function as it did in such dreams - though, in all honesty, the boggart dream was usually far worse and, at that, paled in comparison with the worst of the recurring full moon one - and had had a momentary lapse of stability before blinking a few times, letting the paperback fall from his shaky hands as he lifted one to his burning face and decidedly not facing the other wizard who had so pointedly used that word. 'Rems'. That nickname that he used to find made Black so endearing, yet now it seemed to serve as nothing more than a reminder of the years past, particularly because 'Rems' was a nickname that only Black had used. To everyone else, he was 'Moony' or 'Remus' or 'that Lupin guy'. But never 'Rems', save when the speaker was that heretical ebon-haired teenager. Swallowing hard and revising, what, exactly, it was that he wanted to say, Remus lowered his hand.

"Nicknames," he began groggily, voice husky from disuse, abuse and sleep, "are for friends, Black. This compartment's beginning to feel cramped..." he said more assuredly, standing with more enthusiasm than a person who had previously been having a nightmare about a pathological fear of self-control should.

He started towards the door, careful to avoid the other boy's eyes, but Black arrived first. Wincing inwardly, the lycanthrope forced himself to look into the face of his once best friend, Sirius, who, upon closer examination, did not look remotely the way Lupin recalled him.

The image of Sirius Black that Remus had remembered was one of a tall, sturdy sixteen year-old. Tanned skin and gray eyes, eyes which had always held a certain excitement and haughty grin in place upon his mouth, with a few strands raven hair falling elegantly onto his forehead. Now, however, the boy looked rather ailing. His complexion was dulled, and he looked much thinner. The animation was missing from his eyes, and an uncharacteristically somber expression adorned his features.

For a brief instant, Remus felt his furious expression falter, but he collected himself and continued to glower at the larger boy.

"No," he said stubbornly. One of his hands was rested on the door, preventing Lupin from departing. "You can't keep slipping off like that. You have to talk to me."

His voice sounded somewhat raspy, as though it too had been neglected for a long period of time, and it shook very slightly. Nevertheless, his expression was one of the utmost seriousness.

"I don't have to do anything," Lupin replied coldly. Sirius opened his mouth to protest but Remus cut across him. "I don't have to. But I will listen, if only to put a stop to your badgering."

Black narrowed his eyes, and after a brief moment, lowered his hand from the door and nodded slowly.

There was a pause, before Remus spoke once more. "So what is it? What inhumane, grotesque action was the impetus for you to go and throw my secret around?"

"It wasn't like that, Remus," Sirius said quickly. "I just lost my temper with him; I didn't mean to say it, I just..."

"You lost your temper?" Remus interrupted, arching an eyebrow. "Oh, well that makes it all right, doesn't it? Is it that much to ask for you to act like a sane human being and contain your anger for once?" His voice had steadily grown in volume and intensity, but all he did was stare, arms hanging limp, seemingly oblivious to the trembling that now shook his thin shoulders.

Sirius noticeably winced, but he preserved eye contact. "Moony, I'm sorry. I..." he took a deep breath. "I know it isn't easy to be you, Remus. I know that. And I messed up. You have every right to be angry, Rems, but I have every right to try and make it up to you."

Remus stared at him. "You can't make it up to me, Black." A flash of lightning illuminated the small compartment briefly, and a low rumble of thunder followed.

It was at this point that the raven-haired boy looked downwards. Not exactly at his own feet, but at a point somewhere below Remus' face. He appeared to be rather unnerved by the reaction he had gotten thus far. Good, thought Remus savagely. However, what happened next was unexpected; Sirius' expression changed quite abruptly from remorse to confusion, and then shock. Next instant, he had seized Remus around the wrist and was staring at a spot somewhere around the middle of his arm.

With a small frown, Remus glanced down and suddenly saw what Sirius had seen; track marks, bright red in contrast to the pallid colour of his skin, at the crooks of his spindly arms. Feeling the heat rise in his cheeks, Remus defiantly raised his eyes to meet the taller boy's.

"What the fuck is this?" Black demanded, his tone one of utmost disgust; Lupin found that he didn't care.

"You're smart, aren't you? Figure it out," he said acidly. "Not that you should care. Or are you just scouting out more information for Snape?"

His voice was quiet once more, but the words had achieved their purpose. The look of revulsion vanished from Black's face and was replaced with a grimace, as though Remus had brandished a whip. A sort of callous satisfaction filled the lycanthrope's veins as he realized this. He wanted Sirius to hurt, to feel ashamed, to burn, just as he had.

"Remus," Sirius said after a few seconds' silence. "This is ridiculous. Are you fucking hearing me, Remus? I know you're smarter than that."

"Oh, why should you care, Sirius?" Lupin snapped, yanking him arm out of Black's grip and taking a step back. If his anger wasn't evident in his eyes, it came through in his voice, which had risen to a shout.

"Obviously I care about you," Sirius spat, his iron eyes boring into the lycanthrope's amber ones. "Why else-"

Lupin didn't let him finish. "You don't! You never did! If you did you would have kept your fucking mouth shut, Sirius, what part of that is so difficult for you to comprehend? I don't need this and I don't need you and I don't need a lecture on what's smart and what isn't because I already know I'm stupid! I trusted you with a secret like that!"

The other boy retained eye-contact defiantly, but something flickered behind the insubordination, something that Remus interpreted to be guilt. Far from softening his emotions, it furthered angered him, though even Remus didn't understand why that was. But it didn't matter; he was not thinking right now, not analyzing his thoughts or feelings. His voice had now reached its highest possible volume, but he didn't care. He didn't care about the students in the other compartments who were wondering who was causing such a commotion, about Sirius Black who was looking more and more like a frightened child with every word that escaped Remus' lips, or about himself and the fact that the rise in his temper and heart rate combined with his exhaustion was causing him to suddenly feel very lightheaded and shaky.

"You lost your temper? I don't suppose you stopped to think about who would be held responsible if I had killed him, or whose conscience it would linger on or who would be sent to Azkaban if not hunted down like a bloody animal by an angry mob first! Wouldn't have mattered, though, would it? As long as Snape got what he deserved? That's all that matters, isn't it, you getting your revenge?"

This last remark was followed by a huffing sound, like a dog that had run out of breath, or perhaps like one who was about to cry but knew better and held it in. Remus was used to holding it in; it came from years of practice, but he expected Sirius understood such things, as well.

"Guess what? You aren't the center of the universe and maybe one day you'll figure that out and think about someone other than yourself once in awhile!" Remus continued, his voice cracked and trembling. The volume and intensity were now fading, along with the boy's composure. The inner corners of his eyes stung unpleasantly, but he continued speaking. Every bitter thought and feeling that had drifted into his head over the past few months was now pouring out of him; he was unable to stop, and his voice had now reached a tone that was barely above a whisper. "You think you can do whatever the hell you feel like! Just because you're you... Sirius fucking Black..."

The brightest flash of lightening yet lit up the train for a final time, Remus' frail form silhouetted against the window. A slender hand was raised, clutching his leaking face; shoulders shook uncontrollably as he finally lost his composure. Inwardly, he cursed himself; crying, and in front of Sirius nonetheless. He tried to stop. He swallowed hard, shut his eyes as tightly as he could and took several deep breaths, but it was in vain, for the tears did not cease rolling down his cheeks.

Across from him, Sirius wore an expression that was alien to his features; it was a combination of many things, really. Compassion, guilt, worry, fear, regret all mingled together on his handsome features, and after a few contemplative minutes he crossed the area that was separating them and stood apprehensively beside Remus.

The lycanthropic wizard was still gasping and trembling horribly. Black lay a hand cautiously on his thin shoulder.

Stop... Don't touch me...

"Remus..."

Leave me alone...

"Come on, sit down. You're ready to fall over, Rems."

Don't call me that...

He was being lowered onto the seat...

Just go away, Sirius...

The blurred compartment swirled before his eyes, but it was slowing down.

I don't want you here.

"Are you all right?"

I hate...

I hate...

"Remus, answer me."

No I don't... I don't hate you...

Lupin lifted his head very slowly and peered through his overgrown locks at the boy next to him. His cheeks were wet and his eyes had an unnatural redness to them, but he was no longer shaking and the tears had stopped. The teenagers stared at each other without speaking for a few moments, and then finally the silence was broken by Remus.

"I'm... I'm fine..."

"No you aren't. And it's my fault. It's all my fault..." Sirius said quietly. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair and breathed in deeply. "You can't do this to yourself, Moony... especially not because of me. I got you into this and I'm damn sure that I'll be the one to get you back out.

"Remus... I am sorry. I'm sorry for everything and if I could change the past I would... but I can't. Sirius fucking Black can't do something."

Lupin, who had lowered his gaze once more to his own pale hands, said nothing. Too many things were running through his mind; he didn't hate Black... but Black had betrayed him... he didn't care about him... but he had comforted him only seconds ago...

His head hurt; he wanted to close his eyes, to go to sleep and forget everything that had happened. He wanted the pain and exhaustion to leave his body. He wanted to let go of it all.

"Rems... can you please forgive me? Remus?"

Can I forgive you?

"Talk to me... and give me some sort of sign that maybe one day... things can be... okay... again between us."

At that moment, Lupin would have rather been in the hands of Snape of Scamander. Or maybe in the bowels of the boggart or the werewolf that had nearly killed him thirteen years ago, or back between the patched sheets of his four-poster on the farm or, hell, even in his own familiar Gryffindor dormitory.

It didn't matter, really - just not here. Not here where Sirius was asking Remus to forgive him for, quite possibly, the worst thing the other boy could have done; for betraying him and marring what would be the only real trust he had in anyone aside from his mother, Madame Pomrey and Dumbledore, and for inexorably complicating a friendship that was fairly ill-fated from the beginning.

"It..." Lupin started hesitantly, hearing his own voice but not really having it register. "It won't be the same..." he said at length. "It won't be the same and it... it isn't okay and... it won't be," he stopped abruptly, inhaling.

"Easy... it won't be even... all right," he repeated, lifting his slightly pointed chin ever so slowly to peer out of his overgrown bangs, already showing highlights of a lighter tan that were threatening to turn grey, with mournful amber eyes at someone he had once trusted with his life. "Yet..." he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, looking at the achingly empathetic teenager across from him, desperate for his attention; Sirius, whom, maybe, he could trust again.

"But... I imagine we can work on it."

Remus caught sight of the expression on Sirius' face, one that was questioning whether or not he had heard correctly, and almost smiled. Almost.

"Truce, you sod?"

Something hopelessly loyal, and perhaps even a bit stupid, shone in Lupin's eyes for a moment before he extended a scarred, pointedly still hand to Black, and lifted his sloping shoulders a bit, not exactly smiling but facing, quite literally, his fears and visibily (maybe) not unhappy in doing so.

The next instant, Sirius had thrown his arms around the other boy, taking Lupin quite by surprise. As he pulled away, beaming, Remus couldn't help but let the tiniest ghost of a grin flitter across his own lips.

"There's no need for that..." he said quietly, leaning against the back of the seat.

"Sorry," Sirius said apologetically, grinning and shaking a couple stray strands of hair out of his eyes. He placed his feet up on the seat across from him and folded his arms, yawning hugely as he did so.

"It's all right," the lycanthrope replied, turning his head to look out the window. They didn't need to speak right now; it was out of the question after the months that they had spent exerting all of their energy on anything and everything to get their minds off of what had happened... off of each other. The exhaustion seemed to be too great, and both boys had reached an unspoken agreement to linger in silence for the remainder of the train ride.

Remus caught sight of his reflection and couldn't help but pause for a moment and wonder if he had made the right decision in forgiving Sirius. His eyes traveled over the blurs of colour that were speeding by as the train sped towards Hogwarts. Heavy grey clouds still hung overhead, Lupin noted despondently, but after a closer examination of the skies he straightened in his seat.

Up ahead, the clouds seemed much more white than the foreboding grey of which they had been at the start of the trip, and very faintly, the sun's light could be seen through them. It wasn't extremely strong, but it looked hopeful, and that was good enough for Lupin.

He leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, allowing a true, though modest, smile to make its presence on his weary face for the first time since that night so many months ago.

Yes. Everything would be all right.