CHAPTER NINE
when misery rains

                           𖦹 ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ˚⋆˚ 𖦹

  WHEN REMUS PEERS OUT THE TRAIN window and sees the Highlands sweeping past him in a fleeting whirlwind of ice and melting sleet, he thinks that launching himself onto the tracks would be a kinder resolution to his problems than going into the compartment with his three best friends.

  Maybe that's dramatic. He isn't really thinking straight at the moment.

The lion's den rests a few meters down the hall from him, every other jolt of the train like the ticking of a clock urging him towards it with no time to spare. It almost feels like his feet are glued to the spot and his hands shake violently at the mere thought of confrontation.

His hearty sigh is caught in his throat, cold air whipping against his face as he ducks his head out the window. He's confined himself to a secluded corridor down the far end of the Hogwarts Express, blowing smoke into the world outside so that nobody catches him and gives him a row. He's supposed to be setting an example, after all. A few hot ashes have gathered on his fingertips but he's too distracted to shake them off, almost relishing in that scorched feeling of unforgiving warmth against the chill from outside. Remus takes a reluctant peek at his watch and realises that has to do his rounds soon, his prefect badge weighing heavily on his robes as a pressing reminder of his responsibilities.

He can't let Sirius get to him like this when he has more important things to be doing. Suddenly it feels like their Fifth Year all over again, that memory of Sirius' little prank on Snape leaving a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. He takes a long drag of his cigarette.

Remus grinds his jaw and finally decides that he has to find that courage residing deep in his heart and latch onto it, to dig his fingers in deep until the strength oozes between his cuticles, metallic and crimson. He needs to settle things once and for all.

  With a heavy heart, he snubs out his cigarette on the tiny windowsill and begins to saunter down the corridor, the garish carpet creaking beneath his leather boots. His stomach lurches with every twist and turn of the train, his nerves bubbling up again as he draws closer to their self-designated compartment, the muffled voices coming from inside only worsening his fears. He feels less confident when he hears the all too familiar laughter that barks from behind the door, the cracks in his facade beginning to splinter once more.

  Remus tries to take a deep breath to steel himself only to find his breathing pattern stammering like a sob, pressing his knuckle against his brow to shake off his worries. It doesn't really help, but he rolls his shoulders and lifts his chin to at least hold up the pretence that he isn't as fragile as he feels.

  The blinds are pulled down over the small window in the gnarled door. Looking at the familiar carvings of animals and their initials graffitied on the doorframe feels like a kick to the gut, his stare hardening at the sight. They'd put them there in Second Year as a kind of daft reminder that the compartment was theirs, even if it didn't translate that way to others. It made sense to them at the time, and that was seemingly all that mattered.

  Remus blinks away any reluctance. He lifts his fist to knock but decides against it at the last minute, instead latching onto the handle and sliding it open with a bloodcurdling screech. The conversation inside is immediately snuffed out when they see him standing there, his eyes narrowed in challenge. It's a Herculean effort not to break down right then and there.

  "Moony," Sirius breathes, getting to his feet as his features soften in something akin to relief. Remus tries his hardest to keep his expression neutral so that he can shoulder past without crumbling.

  He crosses the threshold and strides straight by him, perching on the edge of the seat next to the window. Nobody says anything for a good long minute. Peter squirms on the cushion next to him as if the tension in the room is beginning to get to his head, picking at his cuticles and trying to avoid eye contact at all costs. Remus is already beginning to feel the effects of his unshakeable regret.

   James clears his throat awkwardly, sharing a look with Peter when Sirius sinks down next to him. "How were your holidays, mate?"

   "Fine," he mutters through clenched teeth.

  The compartment falls back into silence as Remus seethes silently, appraising Sirius out of the corner of his eye. He usually curls in on himself, shrinking down his shoulders and trying to appear as non-threatening as he can possibly manage. He typically tries to compensate for his monstrosities by fading into the background and quietening down every aspect of his person, trying to act mild mannered and offering smiles where he's able.

But today, his shoulders are tensed up and he sits with his back up straight, easily towering over everyone else in the compartment. His glare is striking enough to cleave straight through someone, pearly canines grinding together so that he doesn't snap before he's even started. The muscles in his back are tensed up, his shoulders squared as a defence mechanism against how small he truly feels in a room with his best friends — his brothers. He shakes away the thought to continue with his sulking.

   "Look—"

   "I—"

   Sirius and Remus both pause, locking eyes before twisting in opposite directions to break the connection at once. He clenches his jaw so tight that it could fracture a tooth, the pink scar tissue taut over his sallow complexion. Sirius sweeps a hand through his dark curls anxiously when the silence begins to roar in his ears, throat bobbing while he swallows down his regrets.

   "You go first," he says, voice uncharacteristically small.

   "No, no," Remus says. His eyes narrow into slits. "I insist."

Sirius blinks. "Right. 'Course. Um, well... first, I want to start off by saying that I'm sorry."

He arches an eyebrow. A scoff escapes him.

"Please don't do that," Sirius mutters. "At least hear what I've got to say."

   Remus keeps himself focused on the landscape outside. "Go on, then. I'm all ears," he grits.

   Sirius inhales sharply. "What I did was... wrong. I can't begin to imagine how horrible it was for her— for Cove— that she couldn't tell you first. That I took away her chance to tell you herself. I, er, regret that I've disrespected her the way that I have and I want to try and make things better. To try and, um, make up for all the hurt I've caused—"

   Remus can't help rolling his eyes. The apology is choreographed, drilled into his mind as he professes it will all the taxidermy sincerity of a revised speech. It makes the anger inside him boil a little more intensely. He doubts that he means any of what he's really saying — perhaps that's a bit too harsh, but he can't find it in himself to care anymore. Sirius catches sight of his incredulity and throws his hands up, cutting himself off.

   "What do you want me to say?" Sirius pleads, his eyes reflecting his frustration. "Please, enlighten me."

   He finally turns to face him, leaning forward so that his elbows are balanced atop his knees. "Well, for starters, I'd like it if you told me what you really think and not whatever James has told you to think." The boy in question adjusts his glasses and swallows nervously. Remus flashes his glare back onto Sirius. "Then, I want you to undo all of the hurt that you've caused Cove."

   Sirius sighs. "You know I can't do that."

   "Maybe not. Still, try." He scowls. "You could at least make an effort to treat her with some common human decency the next time you fuckin' see her. Seriously, what were you thinking?"

   "I wasn't, okay?" he snaps defeatedly. "I was totally pissed and a little bit stoned, and I thought that I was doing the right thing in telling you about it at the time. I wasn't in my right mind."

   "That's not a fucking excuse."

   "Godric, I know that!"

   James and Peter shift uncomfortably in their seats, their stares darting between the quarrel at hand and the door. Calculating how to make a quick getaway if things get too tense for their comfort. It's not lost on Remus.

He takes a deep, rattling breath. His eyelids shutter close as he tries to battle the pounding headache that's coming on, rubbing at his temples to coax out a little peace from deep within him. Remus calms himself down a bit, reining in all of his wild thoughts to form neat little sections within his head. In the face of his quelling nerves, he can't help letting the question at the forefront of his mind slip out into the air between them.

"What if it had been me?"

Everyone freezes. Sirius whips his head up to look at him, searching his face with concern. Remus had been dying to ask for weeks.

His mouth opens and closes like a goldfish.

"I— well, I mean— I don't..."

What if you had exposed me just as easily? Remus wants to ask. If you scared off the girl I fancied with the truth that I'm truly a monster? What would that mean for me?

Sirius is scrambling for solutions that he doesn't have, stammering and stumbling over his every word. The stress is rife in his grey eyes, the frown he's wearing out of place on his typically relaxed features.

"That's what I thought," Remus breathes, shaking his head. "This was a waste of time."

"What? No!" Sirius surges forward as if he wants to grasp onto him but rethinks it at the last minute, sinking back into his seat with his hands pulled to his chest. "I want to make things right, Remus. I don't want you to be in a huff with me for the rest of the year."

His stare hardens. "You should've thought about that when you started running your mouth about my girlfriend."

The silence is unbearable — you could hear a pin drop. Sirius sinks into himself, at a complete loss for words. Peter and James look between their friends with pained expressions, hanging in the rift they've torn down the middle of the friend group. The air is stifling, the atmosphere hostile and unwelcoming. It's just not right.

   "Come on, Moony," James says softly. "We have to go do our rounds."

   Remus turns his gaze onto him, leaning into the tender hand placed comfortingly on his shoulder. His glasses are slipping down his nose, his badge askew on his unknotted tie. He looks perfectly normal, a flickering beacon of familiarity amidst the rocky terrain that has become their friend group for the near future. James tousles his raven hair slightly before stepping out into the corridor, whisking Remus away from Sirius before the argument could get any more out of hand than it has already managed to.

   He takes yet another deep breath, his patience worn thin. The train jolts beneath their feet as James guides him down the suddenly too-tight corridors, the garish carpet searing his downcast eyes. He finds himself crumbling beneath another headache, his scars scorching his pale flesh and his body aching all over. Everything is becoming too much for him all of a sudden. He has to stop dead in his tracks to try and stomach it.

James turns back to face him, both his hands coming down to rest on his shoulders as he peers into his eyes worriedly. "Y'alright?" he wonders, the question strained. It's a daft thing to ask when he's so obviously not but he doesn't quite know what else to say.

He shakes his head. "What am I supposed to do, James?" Remus asks quietly. His voice is meek.

"Sirius is... an idiot," he replies carefully. "He didn't mean any harm in what he was doing. Honestly. He's not the best at getting his point across but he really does want to make things right between you and him. He wants to start over with Cove, too. He's genuinely sorry. Swear down." His lips form a tight, awkward line. "D'you reckon you can you forgive him, Moony?"

Remus' breathing grows shallow. "I'll think about it." He straightens back up. "I can't be angry at him forever, he's one of my best friends. I just— I need a break from him after all this shite."

James nods. He knows not to push him.

   They walk towards the Prefects compartment in tense silence, their predicament hanging over their heads like a thundercloud. The future is unclear for them — a dangerous shadow of pure uncertainty that makes fear broil in their guts. In a world that's ensnared in conflict and feels as if it's growing darker by the day, the only thing anyone really has is their friends. Now, he barely even has that after the whole incident at the party and everything that has followed. He feels completely lost — so close to leaving, to being free to live his own life. What will life after his graduation bring? What does the future even have in store for him?

Remus doesn't quite know what to think anymore.

author's note!

sirius and remus working it out on the remix ⁉️⁉️

nah probably not idk how to resolve conflicts

i keep forgetting that remus is a prefect here (i'm sorry, don't crucify me) but i'm going to strive to remember for the upcoming chapters before they graduate !!!! wartime keeps getting closer and closer how are we feelingggg