fourteen

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There was a soft knock at the door to Remus' office; It was a Saturday, and so only one person it could be. The door was pushed open as Wren stepped inside, her hair pulled up in a slicked back bun.

"Hi." She gave Remus a polite smile as she shut the door behind her, her hands hidden behind her back as she waited for him to fully invite her in.

He responded with a small nod of his head, though he didn't really seem to be paying attention. He was reading through what seemed to be the latest edition of the Daily Prophet, leaning back in his leather chair with one ankle resting on the other knee. Wren couldn't help but feel as though her presence wasn't wanted, as she slowly made her way over to Remus. She waited for him to say something, anything, but he seemed too intent on whatever he was reading.

The sun was starting to set outside, the dying rays of light the only thing lighting the rather dreary office. Wren sat herself on the edge of Remus' desk, kicking her feet aimlessly as she glanced around.

It was strange how comfortable she felt in their silence, despite Remus hardly having even acknowledged her presence. It felt as though they could sit with each other forever, only the knowing of the other being there enough to satisfy both their needs.

She didn't mean to break the silence, perfectly happy to wait for Remus to do so, but there had been a question she had been wanting to ask for a few weeks now, eating away at the back of her brain.

"Does it hurt when you turn?" She asked aimlessly, watching her feet as she kicked them back and forth.

"What?" Remus' voice was harsh as it cut through the evening air.

"When you turn.." Wren turned to look at him over her shoulder, "Does it hurt?"

"What do you think?" His tone was blunt, as he went back to reading his newspaper.

Wren opened her mouth to quip back, but stopped herself when she saw the angst etched into his skin. He looked different - his eyes were darker and he had more veins in his arms than usual. His skin looked taught and his hair had new grey streaks plaited through the mousy brown.

She stood from where she was sitting on the desk, occupying herself with the stacks of books lined up against the walls like she usually did. Her hand brushed across the soft leather, her eyes scanning the titles as she thought about which one to read.

She found herself wandering over to the far left corner of the room, towards the area where she knew Remus hid some Dark Magic books. He had told her they were just a bit of light reading, but a lot of them mentioned werewolfism and Wren had seen the panicked scribbles around the edges.

Bending down to look at the bottom shelf, she placed a gentle hand on the floor to steady herself.

"Ah." She hissed through closed teeth, lifting her palm up to see blood beading from a slit in the centre. There were rogue pieces of shattered glass scattered across the wooden floorboards and one had sliced into the soft skin of her palm.

She pulled the glass from her hand without thinking, causing the blood to pour from the wound uncontrollably.

"Shit." She muttered, as she tried to press down on it with her other hand.

"What did you do?" Remus was standing behind her, his height towering over Wren as she was still crouched down. She showed him her copiously bleeding hand, to which his face visibly paled.

He started muttering to himself, incoherent words that Wren couldn't quite decipher, as he started rifling through his cupboard of assorted potions. Wren stood behind him, peering over his shoulder as he crashed about the glass vials carelessly.

"Re.." She started, as he spun around and grabbed her by the wrist, "Ow!"

He dragged her over to the brown, leather sofa in the middle of his office, his fingers digging precariously into her arm. It reminded her of when Snape had dragged her through the corridor, as she struggled to get free, "Remus, you're hurting me!"

He pushed her down onto the sofa, pouring the vial of phoenix tears onto the cut, not even bothering to use the dropper. The liquid seeped into her hand, the excess dripping over the edge and staining the dark denim of her jeans.

"Remus?" Her voice was quiet, as she tried to get his attention. He seemed to be in some sort of trance, not even able to hear her as she called his name. The healing potion was still being poured onto her hand, Remus not noticing that the wound had already fully healed, with not even a scar as a left behind as a reminder.

"Professor Lupin!" Her voice was louder now, firmer, as she grabbed onto the man's arm. He was leaning over her, his breath hitching in her throat as their eyes met, "You're scaring me. His clasp on her arm loosened as he stumbled backwards, the vial hitting the floor with a crack. As he zoned back into what he assumed was reality, he noticed the way that Wren was watching him. Her eyes were wide with fear, her arm stained red from where the blood had run down it.

"I'm sorry." He muttered with a shake of his head, as he walked back over to his desk.

"Remus?" Wren asked, as she watched him crouch down as he started rummaging through the bottom drawer of his vintage, oak desk.

"You need to leave." Was all that he said, his voice barely audible over the rummaging of the contents of the bottom drawer.

"What?" Wren blinked.

"You need to leave." He instructed, his voice now louder and more firm, "Get out."

"What do you me.." Wren started, but was cut off.

"I mean, get out!" He shouted as he stood straight, the dark of his eyes boring into her own.

"We can't see each other anymore, Wren." He continued, gesturing with a pointed finger between the two, "Whatever this is, can't happen."

"This?" She repeated, taking a step towards him.

Remus simply took a step back, "Being with me will only get you hurt, or worse."

"I'm not stupid, Remus!" Wren protested, "I understand."

"No!" His voice was gradually getting louder as the anger bubbled up, "You don't! You could never understand!"

"Having to hide your true self from everybody." He yelled, "Hating yourself and not being able to do anything about it!"

Wren scoffed, though this just made Remus all the more mad.

"I'm no good for you." He shook his head.

"I think I can make my own decisions, but thanks." Her voice was laced with sarcasm as she spoke.

"You are a child, Wren." His words were laced with an evil that Wren never thought him capable of, "Nothing but a child with a dumb infatuation."

"It's over. Whatever this was, it's over."

Wren ran from the room before Remus could see the tears brimming in her eyes, a lump forming in her throat as she dug her nails into the palms of her hands.

He stood watching where Wren was standing for what felt like hours, mentally cursing himself for what he had just said. He hadn't meant any of it and yet all of it was true.

He wasn't any good for her, and she would most definitely end up getting hurt if she was with him. That's how things went with everyone that Remus got close to - James, Lily, Sirius, Peter.

Remus was a monster, and Wren was a ray of sun that he had been needing his whole life. But the longer she spent with him, the dimmer she got. And Wren was the one person that Remus would never forgive himself for hurting, even if that meant hurting her feelings in the process. He would rather her heart still beat than feel, no matter how crushed his own heart got.

*

Wren had run from Remus' office without even a second thought, too drained to argue back to his harsh words. She couldn't let him see her cry, especially not after he had just ended whatever was going on between them without even a second thought.

She had taken the stairs to the Gryffindor dorms two at a time, keeping a tight grip on the bannister to stop her from tripping over. Her heartbroken and tear filled state had led her to Milo's room, swinging the door open with wordless magic and a small flick of her hand.

The thud of the door woke Milo up, his eyes adjusting to the light as he tried to make out the bodily shadow occupying the doorway. Once the realisation of it being Wren set in, just able to see her tear stained cheeks and trembling lip, he lifted his duvet and signalled for her to join him.

Wren slipped under the covers, curling her body up with her head resting against Milo's bare chest. He could feel where she was crying as tears pooled on his warm skin, his hand brushing against her hair in comfort as she cried herself to sleep.

When Wren woke up in the morning, she was alone in Milo's bed, her body curled into itself, her knees hugged to her chest. The rest of the Gryffindor boys had gone also, no doubt eating breakfast or in their first lesson of the day.

Wren couldn't help but want to just go back to sleep, shut her eyes and never wake up. At least then she wouldn't have to feel anymore. Forget about the damning ache in her chest, and the heavy pulse of pain in her temples. Her eyes flickered to the door as Milo gently swung it open, peeking his head round to see if Wren was awake. When his eyes met hers, he shot her a small smile, "Hi."

"Hello." She smiled back, the muscles in her cheeks aching from the smallest of movements. She sat up, so that Milo could fit on the bed beside her, placing her head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her frame.

"I'm so tired." She whispered, despite having only just woken up, her voice cracking as she spoke.

Milo knew what she meant though, replying with a small nod and a quiet "I know."

After a few moments, Milo's voice breaks through the sombre silence, "I'll kill him if you want." The two had been so close for so long that Milo could simply sense why she was upset.

Wren looks up at him through her lashes, her lips pressed together to stop herself from laughing. Milo continued to make Wren get out of bed, forcing her to put some new, unstained clothes on, before dragging her down to the Great Hall for dinner. Wren was picking at a chunk of buttered bread, pulling it apart and throwing the pieces down onto the porcelain plate. She wasn't feeling very hungry.

Her eyes were bloodshot and her skin pale, every movement of her hands accompanied by an uncontrollable tremble. It wasn't just the whole Remus situation that had gotten to her, though that was a major part of it. It was everything that had happened over the past few months - having to face her father, no matter how fake the image was, finding out that her mother was slowly withering away in a hospital bed, Milo not talking to her for nearly 4 weeks; And then there was obviously the side of Remus' that she had never seen before, as he told her he never wanted to see her again, teeth seething as he demanded she leave.

Nothing but a student being scolded by her professor.

It was ironic really, how she always knew it would end this way and was still so distraught that it had.

Even despite the way he had hurt her, she still felt a small pang of guilt in the back of her head. Remus had explained to her the other evening, how painful it had been to live life with his condition, to know that he was going to be that way forever. The guilt grew in her gut as she thought about the one man who could put Remus out of his misery - an evil mass of slick, black hair locked behind reinforced titanium bars.

Wren had scraped her hair back into a messy bun with her fingers, the usually soft skin of her lips cracked and bleeding from where she had been picking at them. Milo had offered her a comb for her hair, a slight look of distaste on his face as he studied her unruly curls, but Wren had simply shook her head as she messily tied the hairband.

The girl felt conflicted; Part of her longed for nothing more than to feel Remus' touch, to run her hands through the mousy brown curls of his hair, to be encapsulated by the sweet scent of butterbeer and parchment. Yet the other part of her longed to forget it all. She would rather the memory of Remus be obliterated from her mind over anything else, even over her father.

She had grown so attached, so reliant on a man who had brushed her off without even caring. "Whatever this is."

He was right. Maybe she was nothing but a child with a dumb infatuation.

"He's looking at you." Milo whispered from beside her, his gaze almost a glare as he looked in Remus' direction. Wren kept her eyes on the bread crumbs she had practically mangled, replying with a simple, "I don't care."

"Good idea." Milo nodded, averting his gaze as he reached across the table for a cookie, "Let him stare. Let him wallow in what he has lost."

Wren didn't have the heart to tell him that she felt too numb to care about anything.

Milo decided to change the subject, "It's a full moon tomorrow."

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