CHAP 7
[A/N] Don't read this if you liked how chapter six ended/thought the last
chapter made a good ending to the story. Although I still love reviews and
does anyone want me to beta for them? PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE?
That was fifteen years ago. I haven't seen Remus, my mate and lover for eleven of those years. For eleven of them he has thought me naught but a murderer. This isn't difficult to believe; sometimes while I lie in my prison cell at night I almost believe I killed two of my very best friends. But I didn't.
God, the fight James and I had had the night before the rat betrayed us. Before Wormtail brought our worlds crashing down around our shoulders all because of me. But that isn't what plays through my mind, no, what haunts my mind like a wraith of ill fortune are the last words I ever imparted to James. My best friend.
"You know what? I hope Voldemort does kill you! Why were we ever friends in the first place?" and then I had left, just like that. Disappearing into the night as if I had never been.
And then I got my wish not even twenty-four hours later while I was passed out in some gutter. Drunk, oblivious and alone-utterly alone. Without Remus, without Lily, or James or even Harry for that matter. He's thirteen now and he's at Hogwarts, right under the twitchy traitor's whiskered nose.
But Remus is there too. I haven't seen him for a very long time but I have heard bits of news, mostly from werewolves brought to Azkaban because they were guilty or because the howled at the moon in a "threatening'' way. After all, the Ministry can never be too careful now can they?
He never visited me once, my lover, my mate and my life. But I was not to be held privy to such a concession-I didn't deserve it then and I still don't. But I know of him, as I'm sure he had heard of me. Did Remus think me all the more cruel and insane for retaining what little sanity I had? Did he know that I escaped the breaking of Azkaban, did he care?
But what I do know is not happy information. Remus tried to kill himself, again and again and again. Always with the dagger-my dagger. The one a friend of ours, her name was Paschal Beaton, had given me. We had all fondly called her Miss Blacky because she never once smiled or wore another colour than that of her namesake. But I am off topic; Azkaban will do that to a person-lead them astray.
Remus, I know why he did it. The bonds of mating cannot be broken by anything other than death. For this I am not sorry, I never am. Not for the death of our companions nor of my freedom. Sirius Black, to this day is never sorry-ever.
The moon is full, I know this from the frigid air in my cell and by demonic shadows cast onto the wall. Tonight I will leave, waltz right by the Dementors as they come to beat me, it's been another half-year since my arrival now. I will stride by them with neither confidence nor sanity. Although this is one of the more sane things I have ever done-to leave. A dog will not be noticed, especially one that so closely represents the companion of the Dementors-death. They reek of it, did you know? Potent and angry, waiting for you.
The door to my cell is opened by one, rusty lock. It would be stupid to break it though, I do not envy a kiss from them. My lips are for those of Remus Jean Lupin in his own right. Even if I never see him again.
The figure in the cell with a whip in hand draws what little warmth this casket of stone and fear possesses to his person-if you can call it that. But I take no notice for it is this exact moment that I transform and dance out the door into the moonlight and sloping shores of Azkaban Phylaca Magicus- the magical prison.
They say the moon does strange things to humans. Makes them act in ways out of the norm. For this I am truly and always grateful, even now when so little of my gratefulness has survived.
[A/N] Sniff That's a wrap folks! I will write more, I promise! Please send me challenges that involve Harry Potter and I will create them to the best of my ability.
That was fifteen years ago. I haven't seen Remus, my mate and lover for eleven of those years. For eleven of them he has thought me naught but a murderer. This isn't difficult to believe; sometimes while I lie in my prison cell at night I almost believe I killed two of my very best friends. But I didn't.
God, the fight James and I had had the night before the rat betrayed us. Before Wormtail brought our worlds crashing down around our shoulders all because of me. But that isn't what plays through my mind, no, what haunts my mind like a wraith of ill fortune are the last words I ever imparted to James. My best friend.
"You know what? I hope Voldemort does kill you! Why were we ever friends in the first place?" and then I had left, just like that. Disappearing into the night as if I had never been.
And then I got my wish not even twenty-four hours later while I was passed out in some gutter. Drunk, oblivious and alone-utterly alone. Without Remus, without Lily, or James or even Harry for that matter. He's thirteen now and he's at Hogwarts, right under the twitchy traitor's whiskered nose.
But Remus is there too. I haven't seen him for a very long time but I have heard bits of news, mostly from werewolves brought to Azkaban because they were guilty or because the howled at the moon in a "threatening'' way. After all, the Ministry can never be too careful now can they?
He never visited me once, my lover, my mate and my life. But I was not to be held privy to such a concession-I didn't deserve it then and I still don't. But I know of him, as I'm sure he had heard of me. Did Remus think me all the more cruel and insane for retaining what little sanity I had? Did he know that I escaped the breaking of Azkaban, did he care?
But what I do know is not happy information. Remus tried to kill himself, again and again and again. Always with the dagger-my dagger. The one a friend of ours, her name was Paschal Beaton, had given me. We had all fondly called her Miss Blacky because she never once smiled or wore another colour than that of her namesake. But I am off topic; Azkaban will do that to a person-lead them astray.
Remus, I know why he did it. The bonds of mating cannot be broken by anything other than death. For this I am not sorry, I never am. Not for the death of our companions nor of my freedom. Sirius Black, to this day is never sorry-ever.
The moon is full, I know this from the frigid air in my cell and by demonic shadows cast onto the wall. Tonight I will leave, waltz right by the Dementors as they come to beat me, it's been another half-year since my arrival now. I will stride by them with neither confidence nor sanity. Although this is one of the more sane things I have ever done-to leave. A dog will not be noticed, especially one that so closely represents the companion of the Dementors-death. They reek of it, did you know? Potent and angry, waiting for you.
The door to my cell is opened by one, rusty lock. It would be stupid to break it though, I do not envy a kiss from them. My lips are for those of Remus Jean Lupin in his own right. Even if I never see him again.
The figure in the cell with a whip in hand draws what little warmth this casket of stone and fear possesses to his person-if you can call it that. But I take no notice for it is this exact moment that I transform and dance out the door into the moonlight and sloping shores of Azkaban Phylaca Magicus- the magical prison.
They say the moon does strange things to humans. Makes them act in ways out of the norm. For this I am truly and always grateful, even now when so little of my gratefulness has survived.
[A/N] Sniff That's a wrap folks! I will write more, I promise! Please send me challenges that involve Harry Potter and I will create them to the best of my ability.