AN:/ On the first night back, Remus stars in an incredibly angst-y chapter. Thank you to all my reviewers! The next chapter should be up in a couple of days!
A dark stormy night. The wind ripples across the lake and shakes the long arms of the Whomping Willow. The waxing moon sends a path of white-silver through the clouds to a window where a young man sits, staring out at the dreary landscape.
His knees are pulled up to his chest, exposing thin scar-ridden legs enclosed in too-short trousers. It's nearly 10 years to the day- Or rather, night- since he became a freak, forced into a life of exile and horror.
He's grown a lot since those dark days as a child but, if he's honest, all that has changed is that the insults, those hated and loved twisted words, are now spat at his face by the few that know instead of whispered above his head.
In a way it's better. At least he knows the truth. He hates the hidden words, the ones kept bitten back behind sharp tooth and sharper tongue, the ones that hold more pain and sorrow than can ever be said. He's seen them in his mother's eyes and his father's. Disappointment. Hate. They curl and congeal in their mouths and hurt him more that he can say.
He bites back a sob and curls in on himself, hating the moon. Hating himself.