By DuoLordOfDeath
Disclaimer: Remus Lupin and Sirius Black are not mine; they are J.K. Rowling's!
The moon…so beautiful, and yet, it is the most terrible bane of my existence. It's the full moon, although only the stars are visible through the cloud cover. Thankfully, the moon's iridescent light is hidden from casting upon me, and I am able to look upon the stars with more time to reflect. I am only grateful that the lunar month is in its last night…
I dread these nights now more so than I have in a long time. Nothing keeps me from running the few miles to the nearest town and killing innocents, nothing can keep me at bay…perhaps I really am just a veritable monster. But then I remember everything all of you did for me; the friendships that you wouldn't let die because of my being a werewolf…how can a monster harbor such feelings? It's the only thing that allowed me to keep my sanity. Now I wonder how long I can truly remain sane; with James dead, Peter…a traitor, and you, Sirius, vanished without a trace…what is there for me to keep hoping for? The transformations were intolerable before, but after the Wolfsbane potion, they are almost enough to make me want to kill myself after I become myself again. I never wanted to feel the burning agony of those damned transformations again…but the one thing that keeps me from dying is the knowledge that you are alive…and innocent, Sirius. But once, I didn't think that way.
I remember your touch like it was merely yesterday; I remember your wonderful fire…it was the most mind-boggling thing to me; how you could love me when I was what I was, with such intensity. And I loved every minute of it. But…how is this pain supposed to go? When I heard that you, Sirius Black, had given away James and Lily's location, then went and killed Peter, I believed it; every single bit. And I was so sure that I was next. It was devastating to hear; to think that the one who had known me better than anyone, who I had loved for so long, and had loved me in return, was coming to kill me. But then I saw it; you were captured and taken to Azkaban; and I thought for sure that you were a goner. It made me wonder what you thought when you threw away everything that was good in your life and left it to the toss of the dice. Did you even care that you were murdering friends and destroying lives? I thought that you didn't; you knew the pain that you had left behind and relished in it… I was bitterly heartbroken. Did any of those late night promises that we made mean a thing to you?
It was twelve years later, twelve long years later, when the Daily Prophet spoke of you again. You had escaped. And all those memories that I had blocked out of my mind; that I had banished for my own sanity, came rushing back in a flood. I told myself several times that I could not love you, that my feelings for you were gone and buried. But I was wrong…terribly wrong. As I read the article in the Prophet, I instantly knew that you had escaped due to the fact that you were an Animagus; although I could never have known the whole story. Then, when I heard from Albus Dumbledore that you were allegedly heading for Hogwarts and that James Potter's son Harry was there; I was shocked. He thought that you were after Harry, and then he offered me the Defense Against The Dark Arts job. I was reluctant, but accepted. That entire year was incredible; one of the most rewarding and frightening of my life. Then…when I saw Peter's name on the Marauder's Map beside Ron's…everything made sense. I remember the thoughts that were racing through my mind as I ran through the dilapidated Shrieking Shack, but most of all, I wondered how Peter could be alive; how he could still be alive when you were thrown in Azkaban for his murder. You were innocent. When I laid eyes upon you in that shack that held so many memories and understood…it was a wonderful, dreadful feeling. I can't believe that I was so narrow-minded as to forget to take that potion…when I transformed there in front of you, my last thought before I became the monster that I am was of the Dementor's Kiss and how you were a goner. It was more than I could bear; and I could do nothing about it. I was so sure that you were dead after that, and so afraid of killing any of the students that I resigned from my teaching and went back into trying to save any innocents from myself. It was soon after that I discovered that you were not dead…I was near Hogsmeade; my home is now only a mile from there, which I feel is riskily close; and as I was walking, I saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione following a large black dog, which they were calling Snuffles. I inwardly smiled at you being called Snuffles, but I smiled ever greater at the prospect that you were alive; I knew that black dog so well…
That was about a year ago, and I haven't seen you since. I know that you are in hiding, so I do not risk sending you an owl. The knowledge of you being alive is comforting…but also it is heart wrenching to know that you are unable to be with me again. Maybe after seeing my transformation outside of Hogwarts into that creature, you had second thoughts about being with me…or maybe the dementors broke you…I still blame my own monstrosity for it, however. My own aberration that drove you away from me…
The moon…I can see her now as she finally peeks her silvery face out from behind her hiding place. Or maybe it's me who's been hiding, and she was seeking. She mocks me as her light shines upon me…I can feel it, the hair raising upon my neck, the curling of my spine. The pain; oh how it absorbs and devours my very being; God, how I wish it would stop! Not again; I am too close to the village; please not now! Please take the pain away! Damn you for this that I have bec-
~*~*~*~*~*~
The night was silent, save for the long, mournful howl that cut the cold night air. He knew that howl all too well; it was the same howl he had heard that night on the grounds of Hogwarts; it was colder than this very night.
The large black dog crept from the bushes, his keen ears perked up as he followed the sound. There was a bare forest not to far away, and in the dim light, he could see a swiftly skulking form rushing through the trees, shards of shredded cloth trailing from its wolfish shape.
"Moony," Padfoot thought to himself, the chill night air cutting through his fur. His trek had come to an end. With that last thought in mind, he took off, his powerful legs propelling him towards the bare forest.