Chapter Thirty-Six- The Art of Crying

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TWs: Negative thoughts bordering on suicidal. Mention of binging/purging and parental death

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Remus ran to the bathroom once he reached the dorm and threw himself against the toilet retching, feeling distinctively gross. He had teased his friends throughout breakfast, trying to ignore the sickening sensation rising in him. How could he have been eating like some wild animal, again? He tugged at his sleeves, which never seemed long enough nowadays as his tears fell into the toilet bowl. Sniffling, trying to be quiet enough that his friends didn't hear him over their laughter, he pulled out his father's letter.

A tawny owl had delivered it to him at breakfast several days ago. The werewolf wished his father would send his rare-but-always-upsetting correspondence when the werewolf was in the common room during the early morning hours. Remus was always the first Gryffindor awake. But he supposed that was asking too much from his father. His father didn't know him well enough to deliver the letter then. At least Remus had gotten much better at smiling, to the point even Sirius hadn't pressed to read the letter too much. Shaking the werewolf opened the letter, read it again and clutched it to his chest for comfort.

Dear Remus,

I have been doing well. From your last letter, I wish the same was true for you. I know it's scary, son, but I also know you are incredibly strong and that you'll get through this. Don't let what's happened to you take more from you than it should. Please keep writing as I'm concerned but don't panic too much because if Dumbledore says it's fine, then it is. If you need me to visit you Dumbledore has already granted me permission to do so. Just let me know if that's what you want. It will be alright.

Remus had angrily scrawled out the second part which reminded him of his promise not to make friends and be careful as well as a few sentences about how he wasn't allowed to lose control over his emotions. He had almost ripped up the letter several times throughout the past few days. It was the first he'd heard from his father all year, and it took Remus writing him on a parchment stained with tears about how his eyes glowed and his body ached more than it ever had before for his father to respond. He hadn't even mentioned the growing restlessness he kept feeling, and the random times of insane hunger and exhaustion.

But the desperate boy hadn't ripped it up. In his father's stiff handwriting at the very bottom he had written 'I love you, son. I don't say it enough but I do.' So instead Remus kept it in his pocket like some sort of talisman, holding it at times like now when the confusion and fear that things were getting worse threatened to overwhelm him.

"You alright in there, mate? Fall in the loo?" James asked with a nervous laugh and Remus covered his mouth to quiet his sobs, worried he'd been too loud. There was silence for a few minutes then another louder knock.

"Remus? You know we aren't actually mad about you laughing at us, right? We know it's funny the girls are doing better," Sirius pointed out gently.

"Yeah, except maybe help us...ow, Sirius! I'm just saying...ow! Alright alright...it's fine either way, Remus, as long as you don't side with them, OW!" James exclaimed, no doubt being whacked repeatedly by Sirius who somehow Remus had managed to worry. If Remus didn't feel so terrible he would have laughed at them. Instead, he rushed to turn on the shower, going to stand by the door to listen.

"See? He's fine, Sirius. He was fine at breakfast, being a right snarky twat mind you. And he's fine now, he's just taking a shower," James sounded unsure though, worried despite his assurance to Sirius. How Remus wished he could be better for his friends!

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