𝗰𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗸, remus lupin

˗ˋ 60

CHAPTER SIXTY
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-: sixth year :-

── IN WHICH PANDORA 
DISCOVERS SOMETHING

. . .

There was a bitter taste in Pandora's mouth, and she knew it wasn't from the alcohol in the crystal flutes that she had been drinking from over the evening. 

She supposed it was disappointment, although she wasn't exactly convinced that she knew what she felt like. But she assumed, should she be feeling disappointed, that this would be exactly what it felt like. Perhaps she was a little upset too - maybe angry. Although she had been angry before... but that was different. 

No - she didn't feel angry now. Instead, Pandora felt something of a weight over the right side of her chest, an ache that couldn't really be ignored. But what else could she have expected from agreeing to stay with James Potter across the Christmas holidays? It was a poor idea from the very beginning, and she was delusional to believe that there was any sense at all in going. There was nothing which made her believe that Sirius would be remotely okay with her attending, not a notion in her mind that convinced her that he would be happy with that outcome.

She had told herself she wouldn't be so bothered by his upset, knowing that he would be confronted with it at a time which would be too late for him to complain or change the outcome of the events. But now she had actually heard of his upsets and other... particular complaints, it stung more than she expected. 

But she was embarassed, cheeks flushed pink as she slipped past those who held absolutely no interest (past small glances at those making a louder noise than they should be for the elegant soirée that Slughorn was hosting) in the confrontation that had just taken place and out into the much cooler, less stuffy air of the corridors outside. Pandora, admittedly, had never welcomed such a cooling breeze - it often haunted her, reminiscent of the times waking up from the odd nightmare-hazes that led her to become terrified of sleeping and feared opening her eyes and finding herself in the middle of a field or in the forest once again. 

Pandora didn't know where she was going but she didn't end up going far, coming to sit on one of the stone window ledges just down the hall. Her skirts were folded neatly beneath her, her ankles crossed over each other neatly, her hair sat neatly without a hair out of place. It were her hands she couldn't keep still, from tightening around each other until her knuckles were white, to fidgetting with the earrings in her ear or chewing the edge of her nails, chipping the paint.

The sound of the party was faint now, a hum in the back of her mind, which was uncharacteristically abuzz with confusion. "I have been..." She spoke allowed, fists clenched around the velvet of her skirts, the ever-so pretty dress that she had spent ages picking out and finally settling on it because it was red of all things, "...So stupid."

It came out breathless, a hardly there whisper into the night. 

Of course, Sirius was right. Now that she had some perspective and took a stop back, there was absolutely no reason for Remus to have done what he did. Their first week of meeting was messy and disturbing, her actions destructive and often unknowingly harmful. There was no reason for any person considered sane to have pushed that behind them and decided to be friends with her. 

And Pandora was crazy to think that perhaps there was the chance that it could have been anything else. 

Remus was too nice. That was apparent enough without Sirius needlessly pointing it out. With most there was a line of morals, honesty and politeness they wouldn't cross. But Remus... he had felt as though he couldn't refuse Dumbledore and he couldn't refuse the attention he had paid her. Because he was too nice. Pandora knew that now. She knew it too well. At first she thought it to be normal, but it was proved to be stronger than most quickly. He was so nice that it seemed inhumane, ultimately false.

And what of Regulus's words? He was right, she was perfectly capable of hating many of his friends, easing towards the cusp with every conversation. But Pandora had relented and slipped from the core beliefs that had been taught to her by her mother. 

Teachings that had been forced into her mind viciously over and over until she would think no other way. Dysnomia knew best, that was what Pandora was told. Yet the moment she had stepped away from her house that had all slipped away. 

In that sense, it made sense for her decision to join the Potters for Christmas being ruined the very night before a lot easier. Now she could apparate back home without raising alarm, the only place where she truly belonged, and debate on whether or not to continue her schooling. That was the only course of action she could take, the only course that didn't embarass her or disappoint her, or upset her - because that was what she was; Pandora, for perhaps the first time in her life, was humiliated and discouraged and upset. 

She was sad. Not angry, or vengeful, or indignant. She was sad, aching at the new burden placed upon her. For the first time, Pandora was feeling very... huuman emotions. And she had no idea what to do.

A shaking, gloved hand reached for her heart, slowly, as though she had never realised it was there. Somethiing similar to a sob echoed through the hallways, stone slabs patterned with a single damp spot. A whisper escaped her lips, nothing more than a realisation.

"It hurts."

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