Grey Eyes // Wolfstar

3: TW; HOMOPHOBIA

Remus woke late to an empty dormitory, his roommates evidently either at breakfast or out on the Quidditch pitch. He lay under the covers for a while, basking in the warmth and taking advantage of the rare silence. It would be best, he thought, if he could just stay here forever, comfortable and alone. Unfortunately for Remus, this was not possible, and when he realised that his stomach was voicing its complaints regarding its current empty state, he dragged himself from his cocoon, shivering in the comparatively cool March air.

He showered and dressed, pausing for a moment on his way out of the bathroom to survey himself in the mirror- a decision he regretted when he saw how utterly terrible he looked. He was even paler than usual; the dark circles under his eyes were even more pronounced than usual after the stress of the previous day, and thanks to the approaching full moon.
After he had combed his hair into reasonable submission, he walked down the quiet corridors towards the Great Hall, in search of food, and quite possibly Peter.

As he approached the hall, the sound of chatter from the students congregated there drifted towards him. There was normally something comforting about the hubbub, but today Remus imagined that it had an urgent, almost conspiratorial edge to it, and he began to feel oddly apprehensive. He told himself to stop being such a prat, and began to make his way towards the Gryffindor table, with his hands shoved into his pockets and his head held high.

Immediately, he knew that his gut instinct had been correct, and that he had just made the wrong decision. As he walked, a strange hush fell upon the hall and he could practically feel the eyes boring into his back. As he took his seat at the table beside Peter, several of the surrounding students were apparently gripped by some urgent need to leave, as there was what Remus could only describe as a small exodus.

“Morning Remus,” Peter looked up from the veritable mountain of food in front of him, and his tone was so comfortingly normal that Remus could almost convince himself that he was just being paranoid. Almost.

“Fucking poof!” He heard a sharp hiss from behind him, before an elbow connected painfully with the small of his back. Trying not to wince, he turned around, finding himself glaring at Mulciber, who was accompanied by a sullen-looking Avery.

“What did you just call me?” He asked quietly, cheeks burning.

“A fucking poof. A queen. A fairy. However I put it, it’s what you are, isn’t it?” Mulciber replied, his tone cool and his expression challenging.
“I don’t know what you’re blathering on about now, but then I don’t speak ape,” Remus replied bravely, holding his antagonist’s gaze levelly.

Peter got to his feet, abandoning his breakfast in defence of his friend, “Bugger off Mulciber,”

Mulciber’s features twisted into a sneer, “Oh, how sweet. You standing up for your boyfriend, Pettigrew?”
“No…I’m not…” Peter stammered, colouring rapidly.

“If you’re not a poof, then why do you go around with one?” Avery interjected, “I don’t know how you can bear it. He’s an abomination.”
Remus drew his wand, jaw clenched; every one of their words felt like a Stinging Hex.

“Now, now, we have an audience!” Chided Mulciber, inclining his head towards the staff table before leaning in close to Remus, “Freaks like you shouldn’t be allowed to come to Hogwarts. Better watch your back from now on.”

The pair then strode away virtually in unison, leaving Remus shaking with a mixture of rage, horror and disbelief.

“How did they… what the…does bloody everyone know?” He choked out eventually, blinking back tears.
Peter returned to his seat, seeming unconcerned by the whole affair,