ᴍɪꜱᴄʜɪᴇꜰ ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇᴅ ~ Wolfstar

Year 5- Chapter 18: Malpractice

 ***

"Moony, now is not the time for a leisurely stroll! Run, already!"

Behind them, Remus screws up his face but moves no faster. "Right you are."

James is about to shout at him again (he's in full-blown panic mode and shouting about anything seems like a good plan) when Peter cuts him off: "It's because he's limping, look."

"I am not l—"

"Holy shit, he's limping," says James. He could kick himself, how'd he not see that?

"Don't be ridiculous," Remus says with a snort, continuing to hurry along after them and pretend that he isn't teetering and shuffling like somebody who can't bend their knees properly.

"Oh, we're ridiculous?" James stops running and points in a random direction. "Oy, get a load of that elephant in the room!"

"What?"

He rounds on Remus, the urgency of the situation forgotten as a wave of frustration crashes over him. "Can we just, for variety's sake, stop acting like you aren't dying inside which is causing you to almost die outside, it'd be such a refreshing change to not have to dance round the subject!"

"I don't kn—"

"Shut your mouth or I'll hex it off!"

Remus looks unfazed. "The wolf's been losing his temper lately, I don't see why we've got to be so dramatic just because he's--"

"Calling it 'he' won't change the fact that it's you, Remus!" James explodes. "'The wolf', 'the wolf'— it's you, alright? Now get your head out your arse!"

He's gone too far. All expression wipes itself from Remus' face. James sees his throat work, but the pause stretches on.

Well, James thinks. No taking it back now.

"Obviously you're upset," he goes on. He ignores that horrible, horrible non-expression Remus stares at him with. "Anyone would be. Your friend betrayed you and now the biggest git in the known universe knows what you are and is being blackmailed into not blabbing about it to his Death Eater cronies— which might work or might not," he rambles, "and then your secret'd be out to the whole world and you'd get expelled and shunned and what-the-bloody-hell-ever— it's pretty upsetting! But you acting like you're just fucking swell all the time, when nobody buys it, when Madam Pomfrey's talking to McGonagall about how another moon like this will kill you--"

"She said that?"

Oh fuck, James thinks. "Yeah, we heard her, that's what set Sirius off! He reckoned your life was in danger so he nearly gave me a concussion and went off to turn himself into a pile of goo, so, yeah," he finishes, voice climbing up an octave in sheer hysteria, "that's where we are!"

"Maybe we ought to be going," Peter says. His face is the colour of day-old porridge.

"You're right, you're right," James says, then he remembers the problem that'd slowed them in the first place: "But what about—"

Halfway through the thought James has the solution. He marches up to Remus and, before he can say another damn word, scoops him up, throws him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and takes off.

Remus is less than pleased with the development. Thrashing around enough to topple over a person who isn't used to staying on a broomstick while being pelted with Bludgers, Remus shouts, "What the hell is wrong with you?!"