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Falling Apart


“Remus, hey.”

Remus looked up as Peter came into the dormitory looking rather frazzled and disappointed. He’d rather fancied the idea of James needing him and when Lily had arrived back to the meeting room to inform the Order that James was back and not in need of their help, he’d felt a bit useless. Top if off with how sad worried he was feeling about poor Maryrose and he was downright depressed…

Remus however looked quite guilty indeed. He swallowed a big lump of chocolate he’d been inhaling and he confessed, “Wormtail, I, er, borrowed a couple of your Honeydukes.” He had a wrapper on his lap and a half bar still in his fist.

“Don’t worry about it,” Peter replied, and he scrambled over and climbed onto his bed and flopped down into the pillows. “You hear about what Prongs has done?” he asked, looking over at Remus.

“Bits of it,” Remus muttered around a full mouth of chocolate.

Peter slid his hands up under his head. “Pretty brilliant, isn’t he? Prongs, I mean? I’m bloody proud of him. Wish I was even half as brave as he is.”

“You’re at least half as brave,” Remus said.

Peter snorted.

Remus broke off more of the chocolate and shoved it in his mouth. “Bloody hell there’s not enough chocolate in all the world,” he murmured.

Peter looked over, “So… what’sa matter with Sirius?”

Remus looked quite nervous at the question and he chewed thoughtfully a moment, folding the wrapper over the remaining chocolate and putting the bar on his nightstand. He swallowed finally, a great lump that could be seen travelling down his throat, and he said, “I’m not exactly sure, but it’s in the vein of very severe depression, I reckon.” He looked down at his lap and picked up the empty Honeydukes wrapper, folding it neatly into an origami crane as he spoke. “He thinks he has a dementor inside of him, that’s what he said. I tried to tell him that’s not how dementors work, but he insisted it’s there.” Remus stared at the paper crane a moment, turning it over in his fingers, “I know what it’s like having a monster inside… It’s not a comfortable feeling.”

Peter looked over, “I reckon not.” He paused, then, “So… who cut him though?”

Remus flushed. “He’s done it himself,” he said quietly.

Peter stared at Remus in disbelief. “Done it himself?” he asked, “Is he mental?” Then, realizing how spot on he might really be with that, his face folded into a frown and he said, “Surely not Sirius, I mean he’s always so happy…”

Remus shrugged.

The door opened and they both looked over as James came in the door and went straight to his bed, tore back the duvet, climbed in, and pulled the blankets clear over his head without so much as removing his trainers. He lay there like a great maroon lump.

Peter looked to Remus, who shrugged again. “James?” Rey called, “You alright, mate?”

“Sod off,” came the voice from under the covers.

“Blimey,” whispered Peter.

Remus sighed. Why were they all falling apart?

They sat in silence a few minutes, trying to decide what to say to James, when suddenly the door opened again and there was Sirius. Remus leaped out of bed. “Bloody hell, what’re you doing here?” he demanded, “You’re meant to be healing! Your chest isn’t going to mend itself!” he paused, “Well it is but not if you don’t rest it!”

James lowered a corner of the duvet to peek out at Sirius, secretly hoping that he was there in pursuit of a reconciliation of friendship… He peered over the edge of the fabric, his eyes roving over Sirius’s stance as he stood there before them, clutching his wand.

“I’ll survive, Rey…” he looked down and saw James peeking at him and he said coldly, “You’re here.”

Peter looked between the two in disbelief. “What’s going on?” but nobody bothered to answer him.

“Yeah, I’m here,” James replied from under the blankets, “Where else do you reckon I’d go?”

Sirius shrugged, but he muttered something that sounded like Slytherin, perhaps, where all the traitors go.

James rolled over and sat up, “Don’t make me bleedin’ hex you.”

“Don’t make me hex you,” Sirius replied.

James rolled his eyes.

“Neither of you will hex the other,” Remus said, “Now stop it.”

“Whatever,” James muttered and he flipped back over and pulled the duvet back over his head.

Sirius turned back to Remus, “I couldn’t stand that ward another second.”

“I understand.”

“You know me, I like space, I like to be able to move about.”

“I know,” Remus nodded.

Sirius stood there, staring at the lump on James’s bed.

Remus raised his eyebrow.

Peter bent over his bed and pulled out the box with the stash of sweets from beneath. “Licorice wand?” he offered Sirius. Sirius shook his head and he turned to look at the lump on James’s bed. “Prongs -- licorice wand?”

“No.”

Sirius paced relentlessly for sometime before finally Remus suggested he turn into Snuffles and settle down and he finally did, but it was very conspicuous when he climbed up on the bed across the room - the one that had gone untouched all year - and slithered under the covers so that he, too was nothing but a maroon lump. Remus looked over with a hurt expression on his face, but it was late and they were all bloody exhausted and run down, and it seemed a horrible idea to disturb the illusion of peace that had fallen over them. At least nobody was fighting or crying or anything and so, for the first time in a very very long time, Remus rolled over and fell asleep alone.




In the hospital wing, Regulus had another anxiety attack as the potion from the day before wore off, and he lay wheezing in his bed until Madam Pomfrey was able to mix a new one, staring blankly at the bed across the ward that had held his brother the night before.

The door opened to the ward and Pomfrey looked up. “No visitors, Mr. Potter. It’s far too early. Run along and come back after lunch.”

“It’ll only take a second, Madam Pomfrey,” he said gently. “Please?”

She made a face. She was busy mixing the potion, though, and it would be rather helpful to have somebody in there keeping an eye on Regulus, so she sighed and nodded James through. He went on through the doors and Regulus looked up, his face pale from lack of oxygen as he breathed rather sporadically and loud through his nose. He couldn’t catch enough air even to speak and so he stared at James as he came closer.

“Look, it’s probably for the best you can’t scream at me, it’ll give me a chance to say what I’ve got to,” James said, and he slid onto the stool beside Regulus’s bed. “I didn’t mean to leave Maryrose at Grimmauld Place. I never, in a hundred-trillion years, would have done it on purpose, Regulus. I may have broken up with her, but I’ll never stop caring for Maryrose. She was my first real girlfriend and I know you know how that feels ‘cos she was yours, too…”

“Don’t… don’t say… was,” Regulus wheezed.

“Sorry. She is your first real girlfriend,” James corrected himself, then continued, “I truly believed Kreacher would be able to get her out of there or I never would’ve left. If I hadn’t left when I had, though, I might not have saved the Minchum girl. It was a really hard situation I was put in, and I did what I could with the resources I had, you know? I didn’t know Voldemort would take her away. I didn’t know Kreacher wouldn’t be able to get her. I ran from that house thinking Maryrose would be safe and my only concern was getting Lucy home. I was truly shocked to get back here and find her still missing.” James hung his head, then reached into his robes pocket. “I should have gone after her the moment she stepped out of hiding. I should’ve known.” He stared at the medallion in his palm, then held it up to Regulus. “I should’ve known the moment she gave me this.”

James dropped it into Regulus’s palm.

Regulus took it and he stared at the gold as it glinted in the lamp light.

Madam Pomfrey came over and she was carrying two bottles of the lavender potion and she gave Regulus the first one and he took it and drank it down, staring at the medallion in his fist. He was able to breathe normally after the second one and Pomfrey took up the two bottles and handed him a vial of the sleeping draught and said, “Five minutes,” looking at James with a stern face, then turned back to her office.

James looked up at Regulus. “Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you had that back.”

Regulus nodded as James stood up. Then Regulus blurted out, “Kreacher’s looking for her. He’s gonna tell me if he finds out where Voldemort’s taken her. I’ll let you know. We can go and rescue her together.”

James nodded, “Yes, most definitely. I’d go to the ends of the earth to save her.”

“Okay,” Regulus nodded. “He hasn’t found out much yet, though. Just some stuff he’s overheard mostly… so he’s still looking.”

“Just give me the word and I’ll go,” James replied. He turned to leave.

“Thanks James,” Regulus said just before he stepped out of the ward.

James turned back, “Anytime.” He paused, then added, “If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to come to me. I know Sirius is being an arsehole about it, but… I dunno, you seem like an alright kid and if you need somebody…” James shrugged. “Anyway. I’ll see you around, Reg.”

Regulus’s throat swelled up - from emotion instead of anxiety - and he nodded heartily.

James ducked out of the ward, waving to Madam Pomfrey as he left.

Regulus turned the sleeping draught over in his palm and smiled. He had a friend.




Next morning, James was gone before the other lads had woke up and the maroon lump that was Snuffles shivered at the foot of the bed. Remus tugged and begged, but Sirius simply wouldn’t come out from hiding. “Perhaps we ought to get McGonagall again,” suggested Peter.

“Perhaps,” Remus said, thinking it wouldn’t hurt to force Sirius to talk to Professor Minnie. Perhaps she could talk some sense into him.

Hearing them talk about it, Sirius transformed. They watched the lump go from a small dog-sized one to a person shaped lump, Sirius’s legs popping out the end by the pillows so all they could see was his feet. “Don’t you dare get Minnie,” he said.

“Sirius, how about you come out of there and we’ll go for breakfast?” Remus suggested.

“I’m not hungry,” Sirius answered.

Remus sighed. “Sirius…” Then inspiration struck. “If you don’t come out, then I’m not going to go eat either.”

The blanket twitched.

“Go on without us Wormtail.”

“Are you certain?” Peter asked, confused. “But you said you were real hungry?”

Remus shrugged, “Oh well… If Sirius isn’t eating then neither am I.”

Peter hesitated, then sighed when Remus winked at him and he shrugged on his robes and left the room. The door shut and there was a short pause, then: “Moony, you’re really still here?” from under the covers.

“I’m really still here,” Remus replied. He went over to his desk and pulled out the chair and flipped open his transfiguration textbook and started to go about reading.

There was a shuffling of blankets and creaking of bedsprings and a few moments later, Sirius came over, wrapped up like a square-jawed burrito. He sat down in Peter’s broken chair again, balancing himself on the three legs and staring at Remus. “You need to eat,” he said.

Remus shook his head, “Not if you don’t.”

Sirius hugged the blanket closer.

Remus’s stomach growled.

“Ferfuckssakes.” Sirius tossed the blankets down to the floor, leaving them trailing across the dormitory and jabbed his feet into his boots. His clothes were all frumpled - being the same as he wore the day before and having been packed off wherever their clothes went when they became their animagus forms. The only thing he did do was grab for his If Lost, Please Return to Remus Lupin t-shirt, taking it out of the pile of laundry the boys had started forming by the door, and tugged it on over his head.

(Note to self, ask McGonagall where clothes go when transforming? Remus thought)

“Alright!” Sirius stood by the door, an absolute mess. “Let’s go.”

Remus looked him over, “Are you going like that, then?”

“Like what?”

“In yesterday’s clothes and all frumpy and stinky?”

Sirius looked down at himself,

“You haven’t even done your hair,” Remus pointed out. Sirius had terrible bedhead.

“Well this is the me the world is getting today. Today, Sirius gives no fucks. No fucks of any kind,” he announced.

“Alright,” Remus shrugged, “If that’s what you wish.” He stood up and closed the Transfiguration book.

They walked down through the castle and Remus’s stomach kept growling (he really was very hungry and glad his fake-out won, he wasn’t sure he could’ve waited much longer before he’d have given in and left Sirius there to wallow). In the Great Hall, they found James sitting at the far end of the table with Peter. He didn’t even look up when they came in, but continued on talking to Peter like he was the most fascinating person in the world.

Remus and Sirius sat in their usual place at the table, across from one another. Sirius looked down the table at James, but quickly looked away when James glanced up at him.

Frank Longbottom turned to Sirius, “Oi, take a shower, mate, you smell like…” he paused. “Like a wet dog. How in bleeding hell did you manage that? Been ‘round to Hagrid’s, have you, to see Fluffy?”

Sirius turned red.

“I told you you were frumpy,” Remus said from across the table.

Sirius sighed. He wished he cared. He really didn’t.

“You alright, mate?” Frank asked him, concerned.

“I’m great. Thanks.”

“Okay.” Frank turned back to Ali.

Remus stared across the table at Sirius… he wondered what was wrong with him, if it really was as simple as depression or if there was more to it, something he hadn’t thought of going on. He resolved to go to the library that afternoon and see what he could find about strange mood swings and mental illness in wizards. If Sirius wasn’t willing to talk to somebody else, then it was up to Remus to figure it out how to help him himself.