Hide and Seek Wolf
His eyes caught a sliver of the falling sun and swept him briefly of warmth. It rose and filled him to the tip of his tongue. A taste of lightness and fun, so long forgone.
Yet, the pale of his face remained an unpainted color and his usual icy state seeped back into the corners of his body. In the field of swaying wildflowers, he trembled to their rhythm.
"All right, Remmy?" said a young, hoarse voice close to his ear.
Remus Lupin, age nine, nodded as his light brown locks quivered in the evening breeze.
The hoarse voice belonged to his friend Margie, who had been straddled with a sore throat for the past month. Her round cheeks blew out long breaths in the cool evening air, interrupted now and again with a cough.
A bark of laughter exploded into the air and echoed into the woods behind them.
"We're all under the weather, Margaret. That's why we're here, eh?" answered the boy who had laughed out loud.
Margie huffed and her cheeks ballooned with annoyance. Remus merely sighed deeply and looked at the boy named Tristan Weller with frank adoration.
A reckless charmer, Tristan was trouble times two. Yet, his brash abandon and humorous endeavors appealed to something repressed in Remus. A mischievous tender spot on his cursed soul, Remus felt. Margie was in a different vein of Tristan's effect which she called dangerous.
He recalled their conversation earlier in the day when the sun beat upon them as they reclined upon the grass. Remus remembered the pilfered honeysuckle pressed to his lips. Its sweetness was welcome when facing Margie's sourness at any mention of Tristan.
"Why you worship the ground that git walks on I'll never know," Margie had complained.
Remus had blushed furiously and retorted "I do not!"
But Margie had just shaken her head. "Someday, you'll meet someone more worthy of your affection."
Remus shook his head of the memory. No matter what Margie thought, Remus saw no wrong with Tristan. Besides, Tristan had kindly decided to play with them. They were younger than he but he still got their mums to let them come out and play.
"William and Gillian are finally here," Remus announced, gesturing to his left.
"Wonderful," Tristan remarked, with a bright smile for Remus.
Fraternal twins, William and Gillian, resembled toy figurines with their identical blond bowl cuts and similarly designed clothes. Both sported red lips, porcelain skin and big blue eyes.
"Sorry, we're late mates!" William exclaimed as they trotted up. Gillian nodded.
Gillian peered around the field nervously. A grasshopper flitted by her and she grabbed her brother's hand. Crawlies and winged insects scared the hell out of her.
Tristan clapped his hands together drawing the group together. "Everyone is gathered then. Gather round, as I explain the game."
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"Hide and seek! That's the best you could come up with? You really are an idiot," Margie whined.
Tristan eyed her, surly. "It's simple but fun. We have our little woods here and the sun is closing for the night. If you're no good at hiding, I guess you could go home."
"No way. I'm gonna win this!" Margie said, suddenly a flame with the spirit of competition.
"Right, well any other oppositions?" Tristan asked. The others shook their heads.
Tristan smiled to himself and beneath his coat fingered a special prop he had "borrowed" for the evening's game of hide and seek.
The object of his pleasure was a nicely detailed mask in the shape of a wolf's face and muzzle. A black felt fur and rubber formed nose were warm to his fingers. The dark eyes seemed to glow realistically in the light. He had swiped the mask from his mother's charm breaking workshop. He supposed the mask was for stimulating real "wolf-life" abilities for the wearer. Yet, the charm must have been broken long ago, for nothing happened when he put it on earlier.
No matter, he mused. If it was detailed enough to scare rabbits away in the dark, it would certainly work on these pathetic brats. He glanced over the group with mirthful pity.
Margie Rowe, the "sicky cow," as nicknamed by the local children, was always down with some debilitating illness. He personally felt it was righteous punishment for her hideous personality and reveled in every snot drip from her nose.
Her best mate, Remus Lupin, was what his dad called "one of the damned," when Tristan wasn't in supposed earshot, of course. Tristan didn't know what he was "damned" for. All he knew was that the stupid sod followed him like a puppy he ached to kick.
Then there was William and Gillian Savant. Those two, well they just gave him the creeps. Children of the Corn willies.
All in all, the brats made perfect "end of the summer" prey for his demented fun. The game would be simple. They would hide. And he would terrorize the shit out of them. The anticipation of their screams excited him. His heart was pounding to every gust of the wind.
The others clamored at him to start the game. He smiled at them brightly.
And shivered down to his toes.
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A cough wavered on the surface of her lips. Her mouth shook beneath the hands tightly clamped over it. Remus touched her shoulder concerned but Margie stubbornly shook her head. She refused to go home.
Though Remus had been kind to hide alongside her, she was starting to resent the company.
"I don't think this is doing you any good," Remus whispered to her. He was crouched down beside her in a bush. His pale arms wrapped around knobby knees.
"No!" she whispered back sharply. It felt sooo good to be outdoors. Remus should understand this. He's sick every now and then like her.
She was saved from further argument when a sudden shrill shout tore through the silence of the woods.
Margie giggled softly. "Sounds like William. Tristan's got one of us already. Drat!"
Remus started to laugh with her when another scream boomed. It nearly stopped her heart for the shout was raw and in pain.
It was bloodcurdling.
Margie gasped in anxiety and an irate cough escaped between her pale lips. They huddled together as the sound echoed into the woods. They did not breathe a sigh of relief until the returning silence stretched onward.
Remus took a deep breath and turned to Margie, his face resolute.
"I'm going to go make sure everything is all right," he stated quietly.
"Why? It's just 'Tristan the idiot' trying to spook us! He hasn't fooled me for a second. We can win this! We'll scare the piss out of him if we stay here a bit longer," Margie answered stoutly.
However, the bush around them started to grow magically as her anxiety seeped out. Remus shook his head.
"Margie, sooner or later you're gonna have to realize that not everything is by Tristan's evil design. He's just a kid like us."
Margie's face flamed quite spectacularly.
"Then why do you fancy him more than me!" she hissed as her voice cracked horribly at the end.
Remus looked taken back. Before he could respond, Margie sighed heavily and said "Sorry, I just about lost my head. I'm scared, Remmy."
Remus gave her a comforting smile. "You're probably right though. Will can be quite a screamer. I'll be careful while I'm looking," he said reassuringly. Margie however noticed the small shaking to his knees.
"All right, then," she answered.
Remus crawled out of the bush carefully. She heard a brief rustle and then the soft padding of his footsteps disappear.
And then she was alone.
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The centipede crawled out the nostril, covered in mucus and moving strands of thick bloody nose hairs.
Gillian Savant stood to the side of the body sobbing uncontrollably. The vomit around her mouth had long dried and itched incessantly.
She should be running. He told her to run. Why is she not running?
But the crawlies . . . so many over of her brother . . . and so much blood . . . and that monster . . . and his eerie mocking . . .
She came to the body with brain screaming terror. Do it, Gill. You have to help William.
"He needs you!" she scolded herself. Thus, digging deep into herself, she managed to pluck out some bravery.
With shaking hands she quickly grasped handfuls of the bugs and thrust them away. The touch of the crawlies setting off waves of nausea in her.
Why isn't he waking!
It was doing no good. Her eyes darted over her brother, unconsciously skating over the gaping hole in his throat, the crusted rim of blood that finally ran out. She refused to process the sight and could only wonder why he did not wake.
Her mind had blocked the truth. Her heart could barely pound. The pluck of bravery was shriveling. She needed to run. Help. They needed help.
She jumped up and ran.
He would be saved. Of course. They were bound together. Run! He's merely sleeping. Of course.
Run!
Just run.
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The scathing scolding could already be heard buzzing in Remus' ear. His mother's fear for him reached states of hazardous imploding on her part at times.
Still, it was better than the quiet looks of sadness worn on her face every full moon. He knew what that look summed up in one word. The future. His future.
He tried not to look too far. Not to hope for much. He only hoped to be able to go to school with others. His deepest hope was for Hogwarts. Even thinking it sounded way too hopeful, though.
Remus stopped to rest a bit and mused. The others must have found really good hiding places, also. He hadn't caught a glimpse of them at all. Yet, those screams earlier. Could it really be part of the game?
"It is deep. But, I see."
Remus gasped at the voice. "Tristan?"
He saw faint movements through the gaps between the trees. He moved forward slowly.
"Tristan!" he called anxiously.
"You cannot see. But, I see."
The voice was like Tristan's. Yet, it was eerily hollow. Fear was trickling into his heart quicker every second. Something was becoming perceivable before him:
Eyes.
Only eyes. Bright, unknown eyes stared him down. And they cut the dark mercilessly.
"Who's there?" Remus said, carefully.
The mass behind the eyes slowly formed.
To his object horror, it unveiled into the silhouette of a wolf's furry face.
Before Remus could utter a word, he felt the presence quickly rescind itself.
Thoughts spun dizzily in his head. It couldn't be here. Not on a moonless eve. It couldn't be his . . . disease made into autonomous flesh. Or does he dare to hope . . .
"Face me," he whispered.
"FACE MEEEEE!"
His throat burned from the raw scream thundering from the depth of his heart. But, nothing was left to face. Nothing at all. As always.
Only Remus Lupin stood in the darkness.
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After a few minutes, Margie began to feel how ridiculous she and Remus' worry had been. In a few minutes more, it was a good chance she would be declared the winner. What a wonderful end to her day! Especially the look on Tristan's face!
No sooner had the joy welled up in her that it came crashing down the next second. Footsteps neared her bush. Probably, Remus she reassured herself. Then she heard the low rumble. It was like a fierce animal noise. Low, guttural and very angry. Could she be squatting in some wild dog's spot?
The footsteps edged closer to her bush. Go away dog, she thought desperately.
"Margie, sweet Margie," a deep gruff voice intoned.
Alarmed, Margie backed away as the bush parted. Slowly the dark shadow of a wolf poked in through the branches. It's noise twitching before her.
It wasn't! It's a disguise, Margie decided quickly. "You got me," she answered sullenly.
Margie moved to stand up but hands slammed her back to the ground and partly out of the bush. The wolf's face was indeed a mask. A mask attached to Tristan Weller.
He stuck the mask close into her face. The smell of the mask reeked and Margie squirmed her face away.
"Margie, sweet Margie," he repeated.
"What? What are you doing Tristan! "she cried, pushing at his arms.
His lips touched her throat and she began to cry unconsciously. He called her name once more and then fiercely gnawed on her throat. His full white teeth glowed in the eve and the crunching of sinewy muscle was unmistakably reveled in.
He smacked his lips together as a piece of flesh dribbled down the cheek beneath the mask.
And he smiled.
"Mmm, Margie. You taste like honey."
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It seemed like eternity was passing before Remus. Night had descended and brought a blanket of brittle cold. It was late and soon the adults would be scurrying for their absent children. He was at least relieved at that thought.
"Hello?"
A weak voice had called out. Remus stopped, heart racing wildly. It came from behind a tree to his right. Remus stepped cautiously toward it.
A figure lay leaning against the tree. Remus briefly considered picking up a stick as a weapon but his instincts clamped down his fear. And he glimpsed a face of misery.
It was Tristan.
Remus scrambled to his side. "Tristan!" he called relieved. The older boy's cracked lips moved silently and red veins bulged in his eyes.
The sight shocked Remus to his core. Never had Tristan looked so deconstructed. The face resembled Remus' own on a particularly bad night after transformation.
"What happened?" Remus asked, after a moment.
Tristan's puffy eyes spun in their sockets wildly. Then suddenly stopped on a space above Remus' shoulder. Remus shook the boy gently.
"Wolf," Tristan murmured hoarsely. The word rang in Remus' blood.
"Werewolf?" Remus whispered carefully. Flashbacks flicked across his mind, dark and painful.
"No, no," Tristan answered, shaking his head. For the first time, Tristan's eyes focused on Remus.
"I. . . I brought a mask. A wolf mask. After I counted and you four hid . . . I put it on. By Merlins' beard, I put that damned thing on!" Tristan's word melded into a sob.
Remus reflected back to those cold eyes and hollow voice in the woods. I see. The words had clawed into him and hung in his mind like Christmas lights.
"A cursed mask?" Remus asked, darkly. He was starting to think how much an idiot Tristan was. Margie will throw fireworks once she hears this.
Tristan calmed down enough to continue speaking.
"It burned. That mask. So pried I it off. But that wasn't the end of it. No, no. It . . . lived. It formed into me! Me! And it spoke. Spoke of the fun of devouring you all! Said it would grant my wish! But, I just wanted to scare you all a bit. Not . . . " Tristan trailed off, gazing to his right.
Remus started to rise in that direction but Tristan tugged on his hand.
"You don't want that nightmare, mate," he said, sadly. He took a deep breath.
"The wolf, it got William. Over there. I tried to stop it. It just took off though. Left me and Gillian with what's left of poor Will," Tristan continued.
"Where's Gillian?" Remus asked, daring to hope.
"She's alive. I had her run for help while I was struggling with it but with that thing out there . . . " Tristan stated, shaking his head.
A horrible realization came to Remus. Margie! "Margie, I left her alone!" Remus moaned, jumping up.
But, Tristan grasped him back down tight in a bear hug.
"No, Remus! It's too late. Don't! Please, don't! Don't let another death be blamed on me!"
Tristan's grip was amazingly strong. Remus' shouts of protest became mute when the sudden cries of a girl rang in the eve.
And Remus' heart screamed with her.
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It was well fed.
Blood was its desire and only need. The form was congealing excellently.
It could eat more but the wish had been sufficiently met.
Grief.
Pain.
Screaming.
Terror.
All joyously obtained for the wish maker.
Beating hearts. Many. Coming for him.
Time is up.
Yet, it is sad.
That one, it saw. A dark brother.
A possible mate but ruined.
Too much light that covers his inner dark.
A shame.
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It was a personal nightmare brought into the dark of reality. Helpless to stop a vicious wolf from ripping apart an innocent. The thing easily could have been he on a full moon. Remus told himself sadly.
It may well be him. The cursed part ripped from his small body and let loose to create havoc. As always.
It was terrible. Why wasn't Tristan doing anything? Why wasn't he stronger! Something inside Remus was breaking. Most likely, his heart.
Remus swallowed hard and felt his resolve swell. He wanted to face the wolf again. Because maybe, just maybe . . .
Remus balled his fist and swung it up into Tristan's jaw. Tristan gasped and Remus used the moment to break free.
"You git! Come back! You have to be alive to vouch my innocence!"
Tristan's selfish cries hurled at Remus' back.
Remus ran through the trees, though the screams had stopped. Could it have been Gillian? Did it matter who? A little part of his heart murmured it did. It hoped it wasn't Margie.
He stopped for a breath and heard shouting. The shouts were coming closer to him. "Margie!"he called.
Remus collided into a person.
"Remus!" the voice cried.
It was his father. Remus was relieved much to his shame. The man hugged the boy tight. It was over before it began, he thought bitterly.
"It's hiding! We have to find it!" Remus said, still in a state of anxiety.
His father shook his head. "We found it. A mask most definitely forged by the dark arts. That foolish Weller boy! Thank Merlin, his mother had noticed the mask missing."
Another wizard came striding up to his father. "Too late for Rowe's girl. It's horrible, Lupin." The wizard's voice was raw as if he had dry vomited from the sight.
She's dead, Remus' mind hollered. It was so stupid! All the illnesses . . . she's dead from this.
"Savant's girl is barely alive. Though, she seems to be in some sort of denial. I'm surprised it didn't get to her," spoke another wizard on the scene.
Margie. Images wracked his mind. He flashed back to Margie earlier today. Playing in the tall grass. Pressing honeysuckle to her inflamed throat, listening to her laughter . . .
Remus' father shushed the stricken wizards. "My son is standing right here, you fools."
Yet, Remus continued to stand silent without tears. His eyes caught the white glow from their wands. They reflected in his eyes like twin full moons.
Remus' father saw his son's lips move but could not decipher the words. "What is it, son?" he asked softly.
Remus looked up at his father with far too tired eyes for a youngster.
"She tasted like honey."
THE END
Author note: Well, that was my first Harry Potter fic. What did you think? Reviews are very appreciated. And thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter, etc.
