vii. a bruised heart

                                    

                                          
















     He woke slowly. His eyes opened, blinking, and he looked blearily around the room. His chest rose and fell with breath. His wrists swung, held in tight, constricting chains. He had shackled himself in the spare room of his apartment the night before, the chains inscribed with runes he and Lily had spent days pouring over in there Hogwarts library to make unbreakable. His other form hadn't been able to move, let alone cause much damage to anything other than the surrounding walls, all bearing marks from previous months. 
                          
     His wrists were always chafed, and his legs ached days after, but it was better than the second alternative. The price to pay for protection, he supposed.
                          
     He uttered the phrase that would undo the chains' spell: "Ad astra per aspera." Through adversity to the stars. It was ironic, considering he would never escape the prison he had created for himself, but the sentiment was there. 
                          
     Immediately, his body was given reprieve. The chains untangled themselves and magically repositioned to rest over a hook. He was left to lay on the floor of his spare room. The floorboards were cold. His limbs were sore. But he had survived the night. His and Lily's efforts had paid off.
                          
     Slowly, he got up and made his way to the door. It was locked, but once he repeated the phrase, it swung open at his touch, revealing the rest of his flat.
                          
     It was almost entirely empty of furniture, of photos, of things that made it look like someone inhabited the place. It was a husk of a home.
                          
     He hobbled over to the kitchen and read the clock. It was nine. Liam would be at work. 
                          
     There was a knock at the door. Remus lifted his head from the counter and looked it at, his ears working to pick up on any voices.
                          
     "Remus! Are you home? I have soup and Shakespeare!"
                          
     It was Liam. Who else would show up at his door at nine in the morning? He didn't know anyone other than his boss. How sad was that, he thought.
                          
     He wanted to open the door, but he wasn't sure how it would go. Would Liam want to come inside? How was he going to cover the bruises in time? He smelt terrible, and he probably looked worse. He didn't have time for a shower.
                          
     The knocking continued. Until it didn't.
                          
     "I guess you aren't home," said Liam, quietly, to himself. There was a faint rustling and Remus heard something touch the beat-up mat outside his flat. Liam stalled for a few seconds before his footsteps led away from his door. Remus waited until he left the building completely, peeking out of the window above his sink until his figure disappeared behind a news agency.
                          
     He went to the door and started to open it. He hesitated for a moment. What if Liam was rushing back and he saw him? Pushing past his worries, he twisted the handle fully and pulled.
                          
     What greeted him made his heart hurt.
                          
     Liam wasn't joking when he said he brought soup and Shakespeare. Lying on his mat was a large, blue thermos and two books; Macbeth and Othello.
                          
     His head thudded against the doorframe. Why was he such an idiot?
















                          
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