March 29, 2002 11: 48 PM
A/N: Readers! Wow! Well, you're here. What to say?Here goes. This story was written about two and a half years ago, when I was only thirteen. I origonaly wrote this story by hand under a full moon, the inspiration for this story. I was sitting by a swimming pool full of people I did not know-- the reason I didn't swim with them. The looks I received and the comments I overheard, and the lecture given to me by my mom about being antisocial made me bitter that night, another source of inspiration for this story. Most of the words are exactly the same as in my handwritten version. I had to edit it, however, using two years of newly learned vocabulary to shorten phrases, and so on.... Blah blah. I've rambled enough, so now you can read the story. I hope you all enjoy it, especialy you, Laureen N. Edgeworth, my lupine loving friend.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, just some things, like some spells and whatnot. Don't sue me. I didn't make any money off of this story. Everything that doesn't belong to me belongs to the literary geius, J.K. Rowling.
Recolections
Remus Lupin opened his eyes to the bright morning sun, unmercifuly shining in his eyes. He lay in the woods, in thin, worn robes of gray, feeling almost dead, physicaly; it was the dreadful morning that always proceded the monthly night of terror-- the night of the full moon. This and the days following always left Remus feeling ill and exhausted.
The werewolf tenet man took a deep breath and pulled himself up to his feet. As much as he longed to, he couldn't slide into and remain in bed forever. In a month, he would be employed as a professor, therefore, he had to set himself to plan lessons and review subjects to be used.
As he staggered toward his two-room cabin, he noticed that his foot was cut open and bleeding freely-- most likely from the presure of its underweight owner's body. Must have bitten myself, he mused bitterly. Durring transformations, restraint was necesary, though sometimes his unnatural lust for blood got the better of him and -- instead of killing something-- he would take his own blood.
Remus opened the oak front door to the tiny cabin and limped into the back room, his bedroom. On the nightstand, lay his wand. He allowed himself to fall onto his bead, then took the wand from the nightstand.
"Corte Remendarus!" he whispered.
He turned his head away so he could not see his foot; feeling what was happening was enough. Skin was spreading over the large, deep wound in a sort of sped- up healing process. It would leave a scar and would be sore, for Remus had not yet prefected this particular spell. He was no healing expert, had no mediwizard experience. He had to learn, though, simple spells to just get him along-- literaly-- in one piece.
This used to be so much easier to bear, thought Remus, as he fed himself chocalate, to bring his mind back to himself. I remember.... No! I don't need this right now. Not now. Try as he may to ward off unwanted, yet happy memories, pictures of the past floated through his mind's eye.
"Not now!" Remus yelld, thrusting his head back violently and abruptly in a very lupine manner. However, in doing so, Remus' head came into sudden and dangerously hard contact with the crude wooden headboard on his bed.
He gasped in pain, saw blurred images of the room around him, and fell headfirst into a deep slumber, filled with dreams of what was and what might have been.
A/N: THAT'S THE PROLOUGE! Stay tuned for following chapters. While you're here, click on that littly gray botton and write some stuff in the box that will appear on you computer monitor. Tanx a bunch. ^_^
A/N: Readers! Wow! Well, you're here. What to say?Here goes. This story was written about two and a half years ago, when I was only thirteen. I origonaly wrote this story by hand under a full moon, the inspiration for this story. I was sitting by a swimming pool full of people I did not know-- the reason I didn't swim with them. The looks I received and the comments I overheard, and the lecture given to me by my mom about being antisocial made me bitter that night, another source of inspiration for this story. Most of the words are exactly the same as in my handwritten version. I had to edit it, however, using two years of newly learned vocabulary to shorten phrases, and so on.... Blah blah. I've rambled enough, so now you can read the story. I hope you all enjoy it, especialy you, Laureen N. Edgeworth, my lupine loving friend.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, just some things, like some spells and whatnot. Don't sue me. I didn't make any money off of this story. Everything that doesn't belong to me belongs to the literary geius, J.K. Rowling.
Recolections
Remus Lupin opened his eyes to the bright morning sun, unmercifuly shining in his eyes. He lay in the woods, in thin, worn robes of gray, feeling almost dead, physicaly; it was the dreadful morning that always proceded the monthly night of terror-- the night of the full moon. This and the days following always left Remus feeling ill and exhausted.
The werewolf tenet man took a deep breath and pulled himself up to his feet. As much as he longed to, he couldn't slide into and remain in bed forever. In a month, he would be employed as a professor, therefore, he had to set himself to plan lessons and review subjects to be used.
As he staggered toward his two-room cabin, he noticed that his foot was cut open and bleeding freely-- most likely from the presure of its underweight owner's body. Must have bitten myself, he mused bitterly. Durring transformations, restraint was necesary, though sometimes his unnatural lust for blood got the better of him and -- instead of killing something-- he would take his own blood.
Remus opened the oak front door to the tiny cabin and limped into the back room, his bedroom. On the nightstand, lay his wand. He allowed himself to fall onto his bead, then took the wand from the nightstand.
"Corte Remendarus!" he whispered.
He turned his head away so he could not see his foot; feeling what was happening was enough. Skin was spreading over the large, deep wound in a sort of sped- up healing process. It would leave a scar and would be sore, for Remus had not yet prefected this particular spell. He was no healing expert, had no mediwizard experience. He had to learn, though, simple spells to just get him along-- literaly-- in one piece.
This used to be so much easier to bear, thought Remus, as he fed himself chocalate, to bring his mind back to himself. I remember.... No! I don't need this right now. Not now. Try as he may to ward off unwanted, yet happy memories, pictures of the past floated through his mind's eye.
"Not now!" Remus yelld, thrusting his head back violently and abruptly in a very lupine manner. However, in doing so, Remus' head came into sudden and dangerously hard contact with the crude wooden headboard on his bed.
He gasped in pain, saw blurred images of the room around him, and fell headfirst into a deep slumber, filled with dreams of what was and what might have been.
A/N: THAT'S THE PROLOUGE! Stay tuned for following chapters. While you're here, click on that littly gray botton and write some stuff in the box that will appear on you computer monitor. Tanx a bunch. ^_^