Sirius takes awfully long to come back, but Remus doesn't dare move or make a sound. Trembling, he waits and waits and waits until his legs start to cramp. Then he waits some more because he has no other choice.

He looks up when he hears Sirius return. Sirius lowers himself to Remus' level. "We're gonna go to my place," he says softly, like Remus will break if he's too loud. And perhaps Remus will. "Are you okay with that?"

Remus nods.

"Here," Sirius takes his coat off, leaning up to drape it over Remus. "I should've given you this before I left. Come on." He helps Remus up. "We'll have to take the train," he says. "Stay close to me and keep your head down."

Sirius takes Remus' hand in his and leads him through a maze of dark streets lined by small, dirty buildings. It's a side of Hogsmeade that Remus didn't even know existed. He always thought that Hogsmeade was this picture perfect community with only the best to offer. But he should've known that no place was truly free of poverty.

"We're near the station," Sirius says after a while of hopping over puddles and tripping over loose stones. Remus looks around him. The only thing that separates them from the station is a thick cluster of trees. "There's only ten minutes until the next train. I'll get the tickets. Stay here, okay?"

Remus watches him squeeze through the trees. The station is packed with people leaving their homes for jobs in the city. Sirius comes back. "Let's wait here," he says.

When they hear the train in the distance, Sirius perks up. "I don't think we'll have a problem, but keep your head down just in case. Ready?"

Remus isn't ready, but Sirius drags him over to the station anyway. As soon as the train stops, Sirius practically shoves him into a carriage that carries a Reserved sign. The doors slam shut behind them.

Remus sits down on a seat. He presses his head on the window and squeezes his eyes shut. Everything feels like a dream. A bad, painful dream.

Sirius sits down next to him. "Get some sleep," he says, brushing Remus' hair back from his burning forehead. "It's going to be a long ride."

Remus closes his eyes. To his surprise, sleep is already settling into his bones. He feels the train start moving. Lulled by its staggering rhythm, he falls into a tired sleep.

Remus wakes up to the feeling of being shaken. His eyes fly open, a gasp sending a shudder across his whole body. "It's okay," Sirius says, "it's only me. We're at King's Cross."

The events of the night slowly come back to Remus in broken fragments. A string of events at the party, crying in the park, the warmth of Butterbeer, and... and...

The train grinds to a stop. Sirius helps Remus stand. They quickly get off and leave the station. Remus wonders if a wizard has ever felt this grateful to get away from Hogsmeade. One of the few places in Britain where a wizard could be sure he was truly safe from prejudice.

"Let's go," Sirius guides him into the main street. Sirius waves a taxi down. They get in. The car smells fresh, like citrus and flowers. Remus breathes it in, his mind easing a little as the scent fills his nostrils.

"13, Nuvel Drive," Sirius leans forward to say. Remus watches the lights of the passing shops. Cities never sleep.

In around fifteen minutes, they stop in front of a large house, its garden lined by a stone wall, up which dark-leaved vines grow. Sirius pays the fare. He gets out and opens the door for Remus, taking his arm and guiding him towards the gate. He only has to touch it for it to swing open. They make their way across the garden and into the house. Sirius turns a light on. Remus doesn't register much, just that it's warm and decorated with great care. Sirius helps him out if his coat and hangs it by the door.

"I... The guest rooms aren't... is my room okay?" Sirius asks. Remus is in no position to complain. He nods. "Okay," Sirius bends down. Remus feels him tap on his knee. Looking down, he realises that Sirius has undone the laces of his boots. "Lift your feet-"

Remus bends down to do it himself. "No, it's okay. Just let me," Sirius stops him with a hand on his chest. Remus looks at him. He lets Sirius take his shoes off, holding on to the wall to keep his balance. Sirius takes his own boots off. "Wait here," he says and disappears into the kitchen. When he returns, his hands are wet.

He leads Remus up the wooden staircase. It doesn't creak like Remus' own back at home. He feels himself being directed towards a bed. The covers and pillows are snow white, trimmed with delicate white lace. The mattress sinks under him like it's made of smoke.

"I'm going to go make us some tea," Sirius says. "I won't take long."

Remus watches him leave. He looks down at his hands, at the angry red scars staring back at him. Do you see us, they ask. Do you see what kind of monster you are? You did this.

He looks around the room. The walls are a cool grey, the furniture all made of expensive dark wood, ornate and well-kept. With curiosity, Remus observes that Sirius' window is circular. On his dressing table lie an array of bottles and jars. Perfume and lotion. Aftershave. There's a large desk next to it, a pile of books neatly stacked on a corner, a large lamp hunched over several large glass jars of paintbrushes and pencils. One wall bears numerous small photographs, too far away for Remus to see. Next to the bed, there's a small nightstand, on which can be seen a most curious juxtaposition of a cheap lava lamp with an ancient-looking hourglass. There's also a magazine, How to Cook That : Fifty Cupcakes Your Children Will Adore!

Sirius comes in, carrying a tray. He places it on the nightstand. There are two steaming mugs of tea, and a plate of chocolate cream biscuits. "The blue mug is yours," Sirius smiles at him. "Just let me get a-"

"Remus, no," he whispers. Remus feels the hot moisture of a teardrop on his cheek. He didn't even realise. But it's too late to stop them now.

I won't cry, he remembers telling himself. How funny is it that he could forbid himself from crying when he was convinced he was going to die, but faced with tender kindness from this one boy, the force of his tears suddenly know no bounds?

"It's alright," Sirius says, bringing Remus into his chest. "Just let it out. You'll feel better after."

"I didn't do anything," Remus cries. "I never did anything to anyone."

"I know," Sirius whispers in his ear, one hand running through Remus' hair while the other holds him.

Remus can't stop his tears, and he can't stop his words either. His shoulders shake with the weight of his sobs. "Why am I like this?" He can't stop, "I never wanted to be a monster."

Sirius arms tighten around him. His fingers stop dead in Remus' hair. "No," he says. "You're not a monster, Remus."

"I am," Remus pushes himself away. Sirius lets him go. "You don't understand, I-" he chokes on a sob, but continues anyway, "They're right. Maybe I should've-"

"Don't even think about finishing that sentence," Sirius grabs his face. His eyes are wide, his face pale. "Please, Remus. You're tired, you just need sleep. Don't... Don't speak like this. Please."

Remus doesn't reply. Sirius waits for his tears to stop. It takes so long.

"I'll be here with you," he says, pressing their foreheads together. He's warm. "We're going to get you through this," he promises. "I'll make sure of it."

***

Author's Note

Now you can watch me not update for three months. My sleeping schedules are fucked, man. I spent so much time on my tablet writing these, my eyes physically hurt. I didn't even make an attempt to reread so idk, I guess there are mistakes. I'm just gonna sleep cause it's half past three in the morning. Hope you enjoyed. You know the drill; vote and comment.