The Most Wildly Messy Thing

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The Most Wildly Messy Thing



Remus was humiliated.

Madam Pomfrey stood at her desk, absolute silence ringing through the hospital wing, as Sirius held Remus's shirt and she stared at the marks the Slytherins had made across his back. It seemed she was silent for multiple minutes on end, just staring and staring and trying to compose the shock she held in her face. Finally, she gasped, "Does the Headmaster know about this?"

"No, it's just happened," Sirius replied, "On the way back from the pitch."

Madam Pomfrey hastily guided them into the ward and put Remus into the bed he'd spent a good amount of time in before and said, "Stay here. I need to fetch the Headmaster. Dumbledore needs to see this."

When she'd rushed from the room, Remus took his shirt from Sirius and pulled it over his shoulders to cover the marks, not wanting them exposed anymore than they needed to be. He felt ashamed of the writing on his back, and it felt as though he were bleeding his secrets whenever Sirius looked at the words.

"Either Pomfrey or Dumbledore will get it off you," Sirius promised for about the hundredth time. He looked anxious, though. Even as he said it, he was adding a silent I Hope to the end.

Remus nodded, but he still couldn't look Sirius in the eyes.

Sirius took a deep breath and grabbed the stool that had never been moved from the side of the bed where he'd left it when Rey had last been in the hospital wing before, and he sat down, leaning forward, and put his palms on Remus's knees. "I don't give a damn if you are gay, you know."

Remus still didn't look up.

"James and I discussed it and we realized that it doesn't matter to us if you are," Sirius said, "So you don't need to be afraid of telling us if you are. We're gonna be your mates no matter what. Okay? And I'm not saying I think you are or anything, so if you aren't, you don't gotta think that we think you are or anything either. We just don't care either way that's all, that's what I'm trying to say. So... Gay or not gay, you're... you're still Rey.... Okay?"

"That's a lot of rhyming you're doing there, Black," Remus murmured.

Sirius smiled. "I'm writing you poetry, Moony."

Remus looked up, his eyes locked with Sirius's.

Suddenly, the door opened on the ward, interrupting the moment, and Madam Pomfrey returned with Dumbledore in tow. He looked very concerned, his jaw set very firmly, and he walked across the room with purpose. "Mr. Black, if you could please excuse us all for a few moments."

Sirius nodded. He looked at Remus. "I'm just going to the hall. I'll be back the moment they let me in," he promised, and he hurried out of the ward.

"May I see what they've done?" Dumbledore asked Remus gently.

Remus shrugged his shirt off so that the marks were exposed again. Madam Pomfrey frowned hard when she saw it, her eyes filled with a sad concern. Dumbledore moved behind Remus and Remus felt the cold touch of his hand move along the span of the marking slowly, appraising it. Finally, he asked, "Do you know who's done this?" His voice was a bit constricted.

"Evan Rosier or one of his close mates," Remus answered. "Well, not Snape, he was off some place with Lily. But one of the others. Mulciber was there for sure. It - it knocked me down and they laughed at me, called me clumsy... and..." Remus paused, cheeks pinkening, "And Puffer Fish, but they always call me that."

"Always?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, sir."

"How long has this been going on?" Dumbledore asked.

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