Remus’ life had been difficult. He was born into a family which consisted of three members, as his fathers family disowned his mothers muggle heritage. His mother was sickly when he was a child, always to frail to chase him. His father, too logical to feel something for his son, shut the door in his face.
However, for the poor boy things would only get worse. Just after he had turned four, something had crept into his room in the dead of night. And it took his life. Not in the traditional sense, no. It stole what was left of his humanity.
His father blamed himself for the attack, as it was intentionally directed at himself, not the boy. And closed himself off even more, building iron walls to keep his son out. Then Hope took her life, tired of the sickness and the quiet of the house. Leaving him to the custody of just his father.
School changed everything for him, he finally had a family - albeit one he was assigned due to an old hat, but a family nonetheless. He shared a room with his friends, who took care of him even after they found out about the beast within him.
It didn’t make life easy, but it was a soothing balm on the bruise that scoured his childhood. But then there was you.
Sweet, caring you. The younger sibling of his dear friend, whom he met for the first time over the summer. He stayed at the Potter’s house instead of going back to his home in rural wales, rather pleased to be away from his father. That’s when he met you.
You were going to be a first year in September, which meant he’d get to see more of you. But he never crossed any lines, not wanting to scare you away or come across too strong. Well, he didn’t even think he deserved you.
Remus had left by now, whilst you were finishing your final year. He found a job at a pub, something part time, trying to pay Sirius a little something so the guilt of letting his more affluent friend pay his rent didn’t consume him. But he still made time to see you.
But it was strange. He was supposed to meet you at the three broom sticks on Saturday, as was your weekly tradition. He never showed. You called him, and Sirius, and James. Even Peter- but no one told you what was going on. It was only when you received a letter from the ministry, asking you to testify.
testify
They knew, they knew what he was.
The meeting took place on a Wednesday morning, as you and many faced you recognised seated themselves in the court, before the wall in the centre of the room spun slowly, revealing Remus.
He looked broken, like a puppy that had been abandoned in the rain, wrists bound to the wall, a bolt around his neck. And a muzzle around his mouth. His chest heaved with barely concealed sobs as he meekly looked up, making eye contact with you. And no one else.