Now I've Got Friends That Do Want Me

There was nothing for it but to carry on. After suitably lengthy conversations with both his head of house and his headmaster, Remus had agreed - or insisted, it was all a little hazy - that the other options were too damningly disruptive, and therefor not options at all. The extended length of his absence was unfortunate, but could be explained away and, given enough time, probably forgotten by the student body. There would be far more interesting and scandalous occasions, in addition to the constant distraction given by the increasingly troubling news from the wider world beyond Hogwarts's walls. But Remus changing rooms or leaving Gryffindor tower, that was out of the question. It would just generate more questions, more focus on something Remus wanted never to think about again. Since that wasn't possible, the least he could hope for would be the rest of the school forgetting about what little visible evidence of the prank they'd glimpsed, as quickly as humanly possible.

He was still quite nervous about Snape. That, more than Sirius, or Remus's sleeping arrangements, or the lie to be concocted as explanation for his missing days, was the subject of his sitting down with Dumbledore. But in the end the headmaster had firmly, if gently, demanded that Remus trust Snape would be contained, which meant that Remus trust Dumbledore, which of course he would, always. So it was settled.

He went back to the tower.

Sirius wasn't there. Remus didn't feel relieved. He couldn't rightly say he felt much of anything beyond tired. The looming confrontation made his limbs feel heavy. There was no anger, or even sadness, just a desperate want for things to be not as they were. To not have to discuss it. To not have to face it. He'd stood in front of the door to his room - their room - for longer than he'd meant before pushing it open and stepping inside, and Sirius wasn't there. His other friends welcomed him back: James was subdued and Peter's quiet, fluttering nervousness filled up far too much of the space. The anticipation of Sirius returning took up the rest, and Remus felt choked.

Luckily, his steadfast mildness and predictability had earned him the perfect excuse to wander the halls. Prefect badge affixed to his robes, he shrugged through the common room and out into the hall, grateful for the sudden, if temporary, absence of voices.

Dropbox!

PB: Thomas Brodie Sangster

PHYSIQUE and MANNERISMS: Remus' muscular definition is surprisingly good for a bookworm, but it's lean and completely hidden by even the thinnest layer of clothing. Hair is always a bit messy, always, no matter how much effort goes into tidying it. Because it is fine, this does not result in particularly dynamic or impressive wildness the way James' tends to, so much as looking at best windswept and at worse unkempt. When in the company of others that are not Sirius, James, and Peter, he spends a lot of time curving slightly, unconsciously in on himself. Even with his friends, he's a compulsive face toucher and will usually have his mouth covered, tucked against his knuckles or the heel of his palm, or splay his fingers over the span of his cheek, jawbone and even forehead, always managing to cover the seam of his lips with a finger. He expresses distress or consternation by dragging fingertips and thumbs against the line of his nose or brow or the corner of his eye and if he's very perturbed, he'll chew his thumb or knuckle. 

STYLE: Layered, tidy, ill fitted but not frumpy.
OUT OF SCHOOL: Soft, old, collared shirts with the sleeves pushed up; equally soft, threadbare cardigans; corduroys or other slacks that seem like they should be somewhat tailored but manage to become shapeless the minute he puts them on. Not at all in a gesture of rebelliousness against style so much as a result of not fitting correctly, his pants are never quite as high as the times would suggest they ought to be. Wears a lot of faded colors, browns and greys, but also Gryffindor colors because he is intensely proud to be one. In summer, he will resort to denim, but usually sticks with the rolled up shirt, rarely venturing into t-shirts. He doesn't like to reveal more of his body than he can possibly help at any given time.
IN SCHOOL: Regulation, if always a lightly askew version of it. Part of his constant shrugging and tucking up against things is that shirts and collars and robes get pulled or rucked out of place.

REPUTATION: Generally known for being smart and reserved. The few students that manage to spend any time with him, either as partners on projects or in classes he excels most naturally in, pick up on his wry sense of humor. Everyone knows he works hard, everyone knows he gets sick often and that his family has really bad luck, apparently, because he's been to more funerals in the past five years than any other students combined. If you asked a student 'What's Lupin like?' they'd probably reply 'He's nice'. Being associated with James and Sirius so closely for so long, and then being made prefect would elevate him beyond 'the mousy one that hangs out with Potter and Black', so even though he's defined by his friendship with them- he must be worthy of some regard if James and Sirius regard him- he does actually exist as his own entity within the landscape of the school. But not by much. Teachers, of course, adore him, probably universally, although it's possible a few on staff only grudgingly keep his secret a secret and don't like him one bit and are pleased he's avoided their classes like the plague.

SUNDRY: Remus is more or less viceless. He snacks a lot. A LOT. The lycanthropy side effects trope can venture in to the territory of silliness, but I don't think it's unreasonable to assume he does run a little warm, that his metabolism works at a somewhat higher rate, so he is readily the most dedicated kitchen raider they've got. He loves books, duh, mostly academic texts, but he also has a healthy respect for Muggle literature, having been raised on it. He drinks but never to excess, which is a control issue, and he will indulge in a cigarette if it is pressured upon him but doesn't smoke, himself. He keeps his various work and living spaces tidy, but when he is actively working, it's always a seemingly haphazard pile of open books and scattered pages that he can always somehow readily suss out again. The moments he's most relaxed are outside of class with his three friends, or outside of class working complex magic.