InsaneJournal

aumuses: Reality versus fantasy.
[set to a few hours after this]

Remus doesn't know how long he has been in the infirmary for, but he doesn't bother asking. An hour? A day or two? It doesn't really matter. Ever since he was brought in there he hasn't said a word. It's selfish, and a part of him knows it, to close himself off like this from the world but he doesn't want to talk to anyone. He doesn't want to see anyone, even if a huge part of him is aching for that contact. That reassurance that things will be okay despite everything that happened.

The only problem is that he knows it won't be okay. Things won't be better, because he had screwed everything up.

When Popppy checks his wrist, the bandages and gives him some potion that he needs to take, there's only silence. There are no grunts. No groans when the clean cloth gets wrapped around the wounds along his back from the Sectumsempra that Carrow had managed to get in before he had attacked him. There are no words at all, for Poppy or for anyone else. Just Remus staring ahead at the window across from his bed, his gaze lost in somewhere no one else can reach him. His eyes are almost back to that normal blue, but the hints of Moony are still clear along the edges. Maybe that's why they had closed off the part of the infirmary he's in, he'd think, to keep the others safe but Remus barely notices.

If he's honest, right now he doesn't even care.

When the exhaustion finally claims him, Remus slips into a fitful sleep. Almost as soon as he does he can hear Carrow's taunting. He can hear Harry screaming. He can see those green eyes as he searches for that answer to the Why? when the he had been sitting across from him. And then there's Moony. Or perhaps he has been there, watching in the way that Carrow had done. Waiting. Growling so quietly that Remus doesn't hear him until he's staring at a reflection of himself in a mirror, only the reflection is all wrong. Blue eyes are darkened. His features belong to those of a wolf, and there's blood spilling over his chin because it's still dripping from his teeth. He can see it all so clearly, because there's a smirk on his face that had terrified him at the age of six.

You look just like your father, son, Fenrir had said during their fight, when Cedric had been taken.

Indeed. He does look just like his father.

"Sing for me," he can suddenly hear himself snarl as he continues to stare into the mirror, the words identical to what he had said to Carrow. "C'mon, lad. Sing for me."

That's when he opens his eyes, back in the infirmary.

And he does sing. Not necessarily for Carrow, and not for Moony, but he wakes up screaming no. Screaming Crucio. Screaming to stop. Screaming to let Harry go.

CRUCIO, the word rings in his ears.

CRUCIO

CRUCIO

The words, the reality of it all, send a wave of pain all along his body as if he's truly feeling the curses. He can almost see that red light coming at him, even. He can see Carrow, looking so pleased, and he can hear him over anything else anyone is saying to try and calm him down.

"What would James Potter think of this? Tell me, Lupin, what would Prongs think of the situation you've gotten his little one into?"

His stomach clenches and tightens at the thought. It does flips and turns in a way that he's barely sitting up before he's heaving at the edge of the bed but all he can taste is blood. Blood that makes Moony even more thirsty. Blood that makes Remus' head feel like it's being slammed against the wall as the wolf tries to break through again.

"Take a good look at him, Potter. This is who your uncle really is. This is the real Remus Lupin." In a corner he can suddenly see him. Watching, so calm. "This is why you weren't secret keeper, Lupin. They didn't trust you with their secret because they knew you'd betray them. They knew what you were capable of."

Why doesn't anyone see him? How he's standing just feet away from him. Suddenly Harry's there, too, and that look on his face isn't going away.

Why.

Why?

Why?

"CRUCIO. CRUCIO. CRUCIO. COME ON LAD, SING FOR ME. CRUCIO."

But instead of the curses hitting him, they hit Harry. Over, and over, and over again. And Remus tries to move, he tries to shield him, but he's tied with chains on the bed; the more he moves, the tighter they become. Harry shakes, he refuses to scream, but instead it's Remus the one who yells.

"Stop. STOP. LEAVE HIM ALONE."

It's your fault, Moony, a voice suddenly whispers. You did this. You hurt him. You handed him over, don't you remember?

"No. NO."

You did this, Remus. This is all your fault.

There's another scream that sounds more like a growl, and that almost drowns the urgent command to open his eyes, and he's suddenly very much aware that he's clenching tightly onto the sheet of the bed, covered in sweat. His lungs feel as if they're burning from holding his breath under water for so long, and his eyes sting, but as he looks around Carrow isn't in the infirmary. There's no blood in his mouth, he hadn't even vomited how he had thought he had done. His breathing is ragged, his throat feels raw because even if nothing else had been real the screams had been, but it had all been a dream. Just a nightmare, recalling everything that had happened.

His eyes stray over to Poppy, who looks on bewildered and with a hint of pity in her eyes, but whatever she says is ignored as Remus looks up at the ceiling, trying to stop himself from panting because he can't breathe. Rays of red light seem to dance in front of his eyes, and he can swear that he can hear a growl, but instead he focuses on his breathing. Everything hurts, but it's more than physical pain. This is what realizing that the whole experience had been real feels like. That crushing feeling against his chest; that sudden despair at reliving the pain that he had caused his nephew.

No. That he had caused Sirius' son. Remus doesn't have the right to associate himself with them anymore.

He wants all this to be a dream. He wants to wake up again and realize that this is all a nightmare. He wants Sirius to tell him that it's close to the full moon, and that's why he feels the way he does. That that's why his dreams are so strong and vivid. He wants to look at Harry and be able to not feel like scum for hearing the words 'Uncle Remus.'

But all that is a fantasy. A wish that can't come true, because so much had changed. He had changed, hadn't he? He had broken so many promises in just a few hours - to never hurt Harry, to always protect him, to never let him see Moony - and these are the consequences.

This is the reality.

His breath catches in his throat, and it feels like he's choking, but Remus doesn't sing anymore. He just tries to ignore everything. He tries to will the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

Maybe, if he's lucky enough, that would actually happen.