Marauder crack

Territorial Instinct

The scarf has the unmistakable Gryffindor colors. It's a red deep, like a heart that pumps teenage blood and has stripes thick deep yellow, the color of the desert sand during the last moments of the afternoon. When he walks through the corridors in the direction of the Tower of Griffyndor, the colors overlap and blend on the ancient ground of stone. He drags his clothes with that lazy walk. His is an awkwardness so subtle himself, that it seems like a sophisticated form of elegance. Exhausted, with his ears plugged and his nose red from the remains of a cold that won't be cured. With his head stuck in the book of Arithmancy to review the last class. Distracted and limping and dressed in winter clothes when most guys still rush the fall. It's not too cold, but it's the first day of the waning moon and Remus Lupin has scars on his neck that he doesn't want anyone to see. At the corner that leads to the floating stairs, he turns, crashes, and watch his book roll to the very feet from which he had a run-in. Sharp smile, hair as white as a January morning, frost on the expression, fury concealed under grandeur and a tone of voice deliberately full of contempt. Lucius Malfoy with his three Slytherin minions. Great.

-Look, guys. Miss Lupin walking around without her Griffyndor bodyguard. Aren't you afraid to go out without Black, Remus?

- Not especially, but I appreciate your touching interest. - Tries to plow through. He's tired, has lectures still ahead, ​​and is unwilling to waste time.

- A short but exciting meeting. And now, if you'll excuse me ... - he leaves the end of a set phrase to drop, but no Slytherin takes a single step to move.

- Do you want to leave so soon, Lupin? What's up, you don't like me so much like Black and Potter?

They keep blocking his way.

- I have things to do, Lucius.

-Really? He approaches him with that supposedly intimidating pose. - I wonder what those things are.

- Excellent. I am glad to be so interesting for you to dedicate your precious time to think of me. It is deeply flattering coming from you, Lucius, really.

One night a month, Remus transforms. The inner animal bursts into his chest and rips him apart, tears every cell and every piece of skin apart, until there is nothing left of the schoolboy in the shabby uniform. He knows that the wolf is not an alone product of an infamous bite, so many years ago. It is part of him. His rage, his anger that lives in the depths of his stomach. One night a month, that rage is an explosion that could tear Lucius Malfoy apart just with a single accurate movement of its fangs. The rest of the time, Lucius Malfoy's and his insinuations leave Remus indifferent. Unlike James and Sirius, Remus tries to choose his battles.

- Tell us, Lupin. Do you polish Black's wand or Potter's wand? Or they use you in turns so that no one gets jealous? - Malfoy shortens the distance between them and Remus is not a wolf but he has one inside that is able to sniff out Malfoy's hatred, oozing with an intensity murderess. - Are you the girlfriend of the two?

He takes a step back so he doesn't have to smell his breath.

- Malfoy! Take your disgusting face away from him, if you don't want me to leave it to you even uglier than you have it.

What was missing...

"Great, Padfoot, defend me, that will put an end to all rumors".

Lucius pulls away from him instantly, steps aside, and glows in that frozen gaze the satisfaction of having finally got the fight he was definitely searching for. Behind him, wand in hand, exuding energy after Quidditch training, strutting, looking at Malfoy as if out the pestilence made flesh, wishing for something to unleash his own fury against, the loudest, strongest, tallest and most muscular than all Griffyndors in seventh grade.

- Look who comes to defend his girlfriend.

Sirius, naturally.

- What's going on here, Malfoy?

He encounters Malfoy's minions. Invade their personal space. Remus knows Sirius would love to sniff, growl, and piss at their feet to mark his territory. He knows that the dog was not a casual choice and the Animagus is just his inner animal coming to light. Sirius did not choose the dog. The dog chose him. The dog has always been there.

- It's okay, Black. - There are no words to describe the extent to which

Malfoy's words drip with contempt. - We were just chatting. Don't you get jealous - challenges him. Putting a special emphasis on that last word. Jealous.

Remus tries to sow peace in a mined territory.

- It's okay, Sirius. I was just leaving.

It's useless. There is a scant inch between Lucius's sharp chin Malfoy and Sirius Black's jaw and it seems that at any moment, one of the two will travel that single inch and bite.

- Didn't you hear the lady? He wants you to take him home, Black.

At any other time, that comment would provoke a punch, Slytherin blood on the ground, and punishment for Sirius or worse - maybe that expulsion that they always threaten him with - but this time, Remus reacts, stumbles, places a hand on his friend's shoulder, lowers the tone of voice, and adopts in the look a certain severity contained as if he were an old professor, and mutters "Not worth it, Padfoot".

And then Sirius's wrath evaporates as if the breath of a wolf had extinguished a fire of a single puff. He takes a step back, cast one last fiery look towards Malfoy, and follows Remus's footsteps towards the Tower, muttering his usual curses against all things Slytherin have done and will do.

- Damn asshole. What the hell did he mean?

"He meant I like boys, Sirius. That's what he wanted to say".

Sirius Black can track a scent miles away on a night of full moon but is unable to look at Remus and see that there is a boy under the wolf howling for him when the full moon goes down.

The smartest wizard, but the most clueless dog.

Sometimes Remus thinks he's the only one at school that hasn't realised yet.