The days Remus spent teaching at Hogwarts had been some of his happiest, and there was one reason few knew of.
The Wolfsbane potion was one of the most difficult to brew, having been created less than five years ago. Few wizards and witches lived today who had mastered it; those who did not never lived for their 'patients' to tell them otherwise. Luckily, one of those wizards lived at Hogwarts. Severus Snape, a name Remus still disliked hearing. But however unpleasant its brewer or its taste, Lupin was inconceivably grateful for the relief it provided. With his brothers to help him, a full transformation was never that difficult, but before Sirius was acquitted…
Now Snape was beyond his reach- and any Wolfsbane brewers were either dead at the hands of Voldemort's pet werewolves or hiding from them. Remus instead suffered in silence at the House of Black. Even Padfoot's skill with a cauldron couldn't help, and neither of them wanted to see the results of a potion gone wrong.
Remus paced through the empty house alone, touching the woodwork and looking at the old family history, anything to keep his mind off the present. He had already discarded his shirt and trousers in his room, preferring not to buy new clothes every month. While Padfoot's immense family fortune would provide him with anything he needed, his pride dictated that he stretch his own expenses for a new pair of boxers every month. That pride also dictated that he walk around bare-chested in his boxers prior to sunset, something that oddly Padfoot had never complained about. But now, instead of trying to think up witty responses to his friend's strained jokes, he resorted to memories.
A rare smile came to his face as he remembered Lily yelling at them all during her monthlies, screaming that no man could ever understand her. It had only made her angrier when all four boys dissolved into laughter, Remus scared for his secret and James trying not to let Lily see. Years later she had laughed too, when she remembered that day.
Now the full moon approached, and tonight he was on his own again for the first time since Sirius returned to him. His old friend was in France, trying desperately to persuade some minister or another to send Britain aurors, and Remus had no idea when he'd be back. While he had gotten used to the long, lonely transformations in the years without his brothers, that didn't make another one any easier.
A shiver ran through his whole body when the skies turned blood red. Not long now. Slowly, with old nervousness returning, he wandered to the basement door. He and Sirius had built a cell of sorts there, once they knew Remus would have no access to his potion. It was a dank concrete block which the two of them ignored pointedly 29 days of every 30. Usually filled with pieces of wood and cushions, it had never before seemed this empty- and with good reason. Cursing himself to seven hells he stepped inside with halting footsteps, swinging the door shut with more force then strictly necessary. In his self-absorbed misery without Padfoot, he had forgotten that it was the dog that usually collected his sticks, not the wolf. The many locks on the door, magical and otherwise, clicked shut.
It was going to be a long night.
A sudden chill hit Remus like a wave, and he knew the sun had sank beneath the horizon. Slowly, carefully, he placed into the box set into the wall for just that purpose.
"Close," he told it, his voice cracking. James had built it for him specially in sixth year, after a particularly violent night almost broke his wand.
James was gone now.
Another fever-chill spread through his bones and he shrank into a bare corner, the light seeping through the hair's-breadth crack under the door already more than enough for him to clearly see how empty the room was, with a lone tattered pillow opposite him. His mind was already playing tricks on him, for he could swear that the muggle radio Padfoot loved so much was seeping through the door with the light.
/somebody get me through this nightmare/
The moon rose slowly, or at least it seemed. His skin itched maddeningly, as always, crawling with hairs just below the surface. His teeth stretched out and his bones cracked, breaking and reforming into new shapes. Nails dug into his clenched fists until they, too, changed and he was forced to open his hands.
Whining, he dropped forward onto paws, no longer able to sit up. Yet his leg bones had not fully reformed yet, and he keened in agony as he fell sideways. The loud, heavy sound of his panty filled the small room. The first howl of the night echoed through the house as he fought to stay human, clung with tooth and nail to sanity for just a second more…
As always, that battle was lost- but in a second, a minute, an hour, Remus could not tell.
/it's not the real me, somebody help me tame this animal/
The wolf spun round, leapt into the corners, hunting for the owners of the human scents that lingered there. Its chase was soon at an end, however, and instead it threw itself at the small cushion, convinced its meal was there. Foiled again, the blood thirst bit at both the wolf and the man inside who flinched at what he would not remember come morning. Remus was still there, for now- a haunted mind trapped inside a mad beast's body. He watched his paws scrabble over to a piece of fur on the floor. Sirius'. He watched, horrified, as his muzzle tore into the floor, looking for something to slake its growing hunger.
His mind would retreat soon, to the dark corners of memory where he didn't have to watch the wolf turn on itself. But for now, the man still existed, albeit faintly. At least no windows existed down here- the first years spent alone in the Shrieking Shack with only the moon to keep him company were a whole different kind of hell. In one of his more poetic (and bitter) moments Sirius had likened it to a bull being driven insane by a bullfighter and then trapped in a field of red sheets on clotheslines.
/I can't escape myself/
His consciousness fought back to the present, determined to fend off the injury he would face for as long as possible. It almost jarred him right into that secret place in his mind when he realized he had unwittingly taken control of the moon-maddened werewolf.
A crack behind him loosened his grip enough for the wolf to take over again, spinning on rough pads and lunging at the shaggy black-haired tall thing, jaws snapping.
/this nightmare, I can't control myself/
The new thing made an odd sound that somehow forced the wolf to hesitate just long enough for its prey to dodge it, and then its scent changed…
Too many shocks for one night, Remus' mind fled, taking the warmth of a friend's presence with it.
The pack howled at the unseen moon, keening for members lost forever and singing for the joy of eachother.
/you can see the darkest side of me/