.Chapter 16.
The moon was bright tonight, and the breeze-rippled surface of the lake gleamed silver and black.
Full moon was two days away.
Remus sat alone on the shore of the lake, his elbows resting on his drawn up knees, staring up at the glowing grey-white disc in the sky. His pallid, sweat-dampened face looked even more washed out by the dirty-white bleach of the moonlight He always began to feel ill at about this time, but sitting in the full glare of the moonlight was amplifying his sickness.
He didn't care. On this night, he welcomed the aching nausea. It reminded him of what he was. And he knew he needed reminding.
He thought again of Elena, and of the feelings he had experienced when he had held her in his arms. Protectiveness, anger, desire, grief … love …
He hadn't meant to embrace her. He hadn't meant to let anything happen at all. Since Dumbledore's revelations, he had been more determined than ever to keep Elena Greenstone at an arm's length.
But the sound of her screams shattering the quiet order of his classroom had nearly torn him in two. It had been a mistake to take her hands. Once that contact was established, there was no way he could prevent himself from pulling her closer still.
How he had wanted her at that moment. Wanted to keep her safe, wanted to take away her pain, wanted to love her, wanted to make love to her…
Yes, think of that, A spiteful voice in the back of his mind spat, Think of making love to her but don't stop there. Next think of her on her hands and knees, shivering with pain and wretchedness as her nerves scream out and her limbs twist and warp…
He grimaced and turned his face way, trying to escape the vicious cruelty of his own thoughts, but they would not relent. You are a werewolf, Remus. The words 'love' and 'werewolf' don't belong in the same sentence. You feel pain, bring pain, cause pain. That is all you have to offer a lover. That is all you have to offer Elena. And Elena has suffered enough.
Besides, she is the Heir of Dumbledore, Another thought intervened, calmer and more reasonable that the first, but all the more devastating for its logic. When Dumbledore dies, she and any children she has will be the last hopes of the wizarding world's fight against dark magic. You, on the other hand, are a product of that very darkness - a monster. How can you even think of tainting the most important and powerful wizarding line the world has ever known with lycanthropy?
Remus closed his eyes, and unbidden, a vision of Elena's face rose before him. He saw her as she had last looked at him, her skin pale and blotched with tears, her blue-eyed gaze still dark with barely-masked pain, but a small smile at the corners of her mouth as she left his classroom. She had trusted him. Trusted him with her secrets, trusted him with her fears, trusted him with her guilt.
And he was repaying her with deception. Because she still didn't know what he was. And she had a right to know. He had to tell her. Soon. Before this could go any further than it had. She would surely despise him then. She ought to. And if by some miracle she did not, well, he would have to make her despise him. He knew he couldn't trust his own feelings where she was concerned. He had no choice but to change hers.
And it was going to be the most difficult thing he had ever done.
Remus raised his face to the moon. He had heard people call it beautiful. He had never understood why.
Leaping suddenly to his feet, Remus scooped up a pebble from the lake's shore and pelted it as hard as he could at the cold silver-white disc in the sky. It soared through the night air in a wide arc, but fell short of its target, landing with a soft, faraway plop on the other side of the lake.
Breathing heavily, Remus dropped down to his knees and buried his face in his hands.
It was not a just world. He knew that. Had always known that. He was no stranger to pain, to loneliness, to guilt or regrets.
But that night, on his knees beside the glittering waters of the lake, he began his acquaintance with despair.