.Chapter 5.
He had always tried to have as little as possible to do with women his own age. It was a habit he had begun in adolescence, but he had never found it easy. How he had made it through his school days with his vows to himself unbroken, he would never know, for he had been popular at Hogwarts. Bizarre, but true.
He had been one of the infamous Maurauders, the gang renowned throughout the school as troublemakers, pranksters, and all round really cool guys. And popularity had been a good feeling, he couldn't deny that.
In the eyes of their female peers, he and each of his friends had been neatly stereotyped, and were giggled over accordingly. Sirius was the wild one, exciting and unpredictable. James was the smart one, charming and witty and a Quidditch champion to boot. Peter the devious one, always ready with a sly joke or a new scheme for getting into mischief. And Remus… Remus had been the sweet one, the quietly intelligent boy with gentle hands and a kind smile.
The irony of it was by no means lost on him – that he had managed to get a reputation for gentleness and sweetness, when in reality he was one of the most uncontrollable, vicious and bloodthirsty kinds of monsters in the wizarding world. The pretty girls who giggled and pretended to swoon when he walked past, just to see him blush – how would their expressions change if they knew the truth?
He could fool them, but he could not fool himself. Let them think that it was just some adorable form of shyness which sent him backing hastily away whenever they tried to flirt. The façade was useful. But Remus Lupin knew – and had known for many years – that he was destined to live a life devoid of romantic love. There would be no wife, no girlfriends, no lovers. It wasn't fair, but it had been made brutally clear to him at a very young age that there was little point in expecting life to be fair.
He was dangerous. It was through no fault of his own, but the stark fact remained. And the danger was not confined to twelve hours of darkness once a month. The disease he was afflicted with was not just very painful but potentially very contagious. No one was exactly sure whether lycanthropy was sexually transmittable, because werewolves didn't generally live long enough to take lovers before they took their own lives. If any had, the details of the union had not been recorded. And whether it was an inheritable condition was anyone's guess.
No, it was clear to Remus he could never be more than friends with any woman. The risk was too great. If someone he cared for were to contract from him the nightmare he endured… It was just unthinkable. He could withstand a lot, but he knew instinctively that he would never be able to reconcile himself to the knowledge that he had perpetuated his horrific curse.
So he avoided them. Ultimately, he had found their company wasn't worth the torment of loneliness and desire they represented. It was easier, much easier, to be alone.
But the witch on the train he had not been able to avoid. Literally.
And who was she, anyway? A new teacher? Part of him fervently hoped she was not. He didn't want to go through anything like he had been put through in the past few minutes again for a very long time.
But still, those startling blue eyes, and the incredible warmth of her body. . .
As Remus stepped off the train, he was immediately cut to the bone by the gusting of a bitter breeze which tugged at his robes and hair. He raised his face to the pale, high-domed sky, and inhaled deeply, letting the sharp air burn his lungs. There was a long, cold winter stretching ahead, but he was resigned to that. He was used to the cold.
Yet he knew it would be a long time indeed before he would forgot how it had felt to hold such a soft heat close within the circle of his arms… if only for an instant.