REMUS' POV

Arty started smirking at me, a smirk that seemed embarrassed herself instead of a cocky one; considering she had caused the warmth that was flushing to my face, that added to the already burning sensation of the disgusting cut.

The table we were sat on was tiny, making it hard to fit my leg cast under, without bashing it against Arty's. So I moved it out to the side of me, straight, not being able to bend out of the way of others passing by, for obvious reasons.

"The Whomping willow punched your leg too?" She smiled sadly down at it. Tearing her eyes away from observing the gash on my face. I nodded and mentioned how brutal the tree was. Lies, obviously.

"Broken buddies!" She laughed and very gently fist bumped my casted knee with her broken hand. I chuckled at her joke and tried to find a way to place my leg differently, starting to rest heavy and ache on my hips from the uncomfortable position.

"Here, you can stretch your leg out under the table!" she mumbled finally noticing my discomfort, as she pushed her chair out and hovered to make room for me to put both legs comfortably under the tiny space.

"I'll just take up all the space, honestly!" I protested.

"Don't be silly, I don't mind!" She insisted and didn't sit back down until I had manoeuvred myself comfortably, stretching out my leg so far that my foot stopped just by the side of the back of her chair. My long limbs being extra awkward when restrained.

I watched her as she sat down slowly, working out the puzzle in her mind to where she could then find room to place her legs.

She worked something out and suddenly I could feel her knees against my own, her hands steadying herself on the table as she sat.

Her legs rested either side of my uncasted one. My breath felt thick as I imagined what it looked like. Us practically intertwined. One of her knees in a dangerous position between my legs. One movement and she was dangerously close to-

"Er Arty-" I whispered, holding in my breath as her knee brushed up against my crotch gently but unexpected. Shock finding itself to my face.

One small hand of hers rested innocently on my unbroken knee making the feeling worse as she started to gather her stuff in the other.

I began chewing the inside of my cheeks with nerves, the metallic taste of blood touching my tongue. Dead kittens, think of dead kittens. Kill off my hyperactive imagination before it was going to get me in trouble.

"Yeah?" She asked innocently, putting away her book...bending down under the table to reach her bag.

Dead kittens. Don't think about the fact her knee is moving against...or the fact one of her hands is resting on your knee, or the fact she's disappearing under the tab-

THUMP.

Arty popped up from under the table, holding her head that she just bashed. Her mouth hung open and a childish shock dancing in her eyes. Suddenly her shocked mouth started to be tugged into a smile.

"I didn't see anything!" she giggled, confirming she had in fact seen what I was trying to conceal.

"Your knee-" I awkwardly spluttered, feeling incredibly humiliated and avoided eye contact.

"Oh, I didn't know I'm so sorry!" she laughed so loudly, she attracted the attention from the tables next to us. She clasped her hands tightly over her mouth to try and contain herself but childlike glee had invaded her body and she was going bright pink in the face with laughter.

"I should be the one apologising" I rushed out. Stupid boy brain, stupid body sensitivity after a transformation. Wasn't much going on other than a firm hand over my lap, just in case. The dead kittens thought worked but it looked super suspicious.

"Let's change the conversation shall we?" She smiled noticing how embarrassed I was getting. I nodded feeling relieved. My body calming down.

"Why did you come over and sit with me? Not to make you even more uncomfortable but I'm still quite confused with the sudden attitude change." She questioned and dropped the laughing expression from before.

"I guess overhearing yours and Lily's conversation bruised my ego" I said honestly and she nodded sadly and hesitated, I could tell she was thinking of how to reply.

"Why would it matter?" She spoke up and I tilted my head confused slightly.

"Why would it matter if I didn't find you attractive?" She asked.

She had a point. Although now I knew the comments weren't made to laugh at me, the question was still left unsolved in my mind. I suppose I knew she wouldn't have found me attractive but the thought was never focused on. Making it all too real when I heard the paranoid thoughts verbally confirmed out loud.

She had a point because so many people found and continue to find me unattractive, it's almost a given at this point (especially with my new addition to my face) so why did it still bother me? Why did it drive me to be petty and ignore her?

I shrugged. A lack of communication damaging this budding friendship too many times to repeat again, she needed the truth.

"How do I say this without making you pity me?" I questioned out loud, taking a big swig of my butterbeer.

"I think it's not so much you not being attracted to me that made me feel strange, but the fact you never stared or asked questions. I suppose I took that as a sign you saw past it all, when I heard you talking about me...just confirmed my own insecurities I guess" I said slowly, listening to my words.

"Saw past what?" Arty asked trying to understand better. I took a deep breath in.

"The clothes, the scars." I said looking down at my old clothes compared to her obviously decent quality ones. A sign of her families wealth in comparison to mine.

"I noticed, but clothes can be easily changed. Your clothes aren't bad Remus, perhaps could use a decent stitching. Easily fixed." She smiled observing my shakey handwork on the stitched sleeve (having to do it myself when I wasn't at home).

"And the scars?" I mumbled. She then looked uncomfortable, looking away.

"I noticed them too. I wouldn't ask questions unless you wanted to share on your own terms. We all have scars of some sort, it's just a shame your parents chose your face, not in good taste and I'm sorry you went through that." she said.

"My parents?" I asked observing her face that refused to look at me. She looked back at a funny looking woman talking loudly behind us and awkwardly coughed, lowering her voice.

"You don't have to pretend. I understand. All parents use similar disciplinary methods right? You must be quite outspoken at home, that's brave" she then smiled at me.

I felt a sting to my chest. Things started making sense. The way she'd only feel able to speak when finding an appropriate time. The way she wouldn't come sit with us as a group unless she was invited. The way she tensed when someone touched her shoulder or any part of her in a friendly way.

The small odd behaviour that made us all think she wasn't interested or indecisive about being our friends, was all because she was taught, disciplined, to be timid.

Sirius had always done a great job at stripping himself from what he called "poisonous family values" but Arty was older than Sirius, when he left home, she had more years being conditioned by her family than him. She was unaware how she had been  mistreated and that it wasn't normal. Whereas Sirius was and quickly picked up on it.

"My parents don't hit me Arty, at all. They never have." I said sadly. She looked slightly thrown back and awkwardly laughed.

"I know it's something you don't talk about with people, but you don't have to pretend. It's normal." She said looking confused at my sad expression.

"It's not normal to hit people you're supposed to love. It's not normal to be punished in that way." I said carefully not wanting to upset her.

"It's not?" She whispered. I shook my head no.

"Excuse me." She smiled and removed herself from the table and gathered her things beginning to leave.

She suddenly turned around. Her chest was visibly quickening it's breathing pace.

"Thank you Remus, it's meant a lot for you to come sit with me. I'm sure the rest are missing you though. I'm sorry, I'm just tired" she said goodbye and quickly left the pub with the jingle of the door bell echoing as she left.