Notes: I… um… I like Memorial Day. I don't like going back to school the next day. It's like coming down from a hangover, or something…

Slipping into the night is like slipping into a different lifetime. It's so quiet, and everything looks and feels bizarrely different. In darkness, it always feels like something essential about the world is missing. I'm not sure whether it's noise, or people, or love, or light. Maybe it's all of them rolled into one. And that's what makes it so unsettling.

Darkness isn't the opposite of light, really. It's not the antithesis of light… it's simply the absence of light. The way black is the absence of color. And white is all color. Light is all things; it makes all things possible.

I am light. Voldemort is dark. Oh god, I wish it was that simple. I want to be light; I want to be purity; I want to be all things to all people.

But I'm not. No one is. Well… no one except God… and I'm not sure whether I believe in Him. I'm increasingly of the opinion that God is a simple Muggle invention, a higher being created to supplement that which humans without magic lack.

But even humans with magic lack something. I don't know what… I've never been able to put my finger on it. Is it purpose or direction, the same questions that all humans struggle with? Or something more lofty?

Or something more sinister?

The light that shines from Professor Lupin's office is very bright. I bask for a moment, invisible in its glow, before shucking my Cloak and knocking gently on his door. It opens slightly with a loud creak; I hear a calm, quiet voice from within. "One moment."

My heart rate speeds up, and I begin to shift my weight from foot to foot. I'm excited and hungry for something I know I should not be. My blood races hotly through my veins with the realization of my thought crime, and I ignore it. In that moment, all I'm asking for is companionship and warmth and light from within the darkness.

The door opens all the way, loud creak transmogrifying into a gentle hiss. "Hello, Harry." His smile is genuine and lovely, radiating a subdued happiness over my visit. "Come in."

And I do, eagerly. He places a gentle hand on my shoulder as a sign of fatherly affection, and my entire mouth goes dry. I want him so badly in that moment that I have to contain myself by counting to ten in three different languages. One, two, three…

"How are you doing, Harry? You look very well." He sits gracefully on his threadbare sofa and scoots over to make room for me.

I sit, perhaps a touch too close. My fingers toy with the cloak I hold in my hands, absently enjoying the way the smooth material feels on my bare skin. "Thank you. I'm… um… good." Ein, zwei, drei…

He grins, a touch lopsidedly, at me. "Just good, hmm? You did quite well in the Quidditch match today; I'd think you'd be feeling better than 'good'."

Oh… the blasted Quidditch match. Uno, dos, tres… Good of him to remember, but not really what I want to think about at the moment. "Oh, yeah… I guess." I smile sheepishly, hoping I don't seem too foolish. "I just… ah… have a lot on my mind at the moment." Well, it isn't a complete lie.

He nods. "Yes, I'm sure you do." He reaches one hand out to absently pat my thigh… and even though his touch is warm, it causes a shiver to run up my spine. "I'm glad you came to visit, Harry. It's been so hectic the past few weeks that I haven't had a chance to speak with you at all. Although…" He flashes a little smile at me. "As your Professor, I should warn you about the consequences of being in the halls after lights out."

I giggle shortly. "If you don't tell, I won't." We smile shyly at each other for a moment.

"Yes, well. I think I'll allow it for tonight." He sighs happily and stands, leisurely moving to a large aquarium tank he's keeping on the far side of the room. He doesn't wear robes when he's in his own quarters, I've discovered, preferring Muggle sweaters and blue-jeans to wizard garb. "So, why are you up tonight? Got a burning question about Defense Against the Dark Arts to ask me?" He turns and smiles again, brushing a lock of hair away from his eyes. A little part of me melts. "Or just couldn't sleep?"

"Couldn't sleep," I whisper, entranced in watching him. I can easily imagine his large, elegant hands wrapping around my cock… or my throat. I can imagine his lips sealing over mine, his nails raking down my chest and over the tiny buds of my nipples… hard, but without breaking the skin. I can see it all so clearly. It's disturbing.

"Mmm…" He hums gently as he reaches into the tank, stroking some small, unidentifiable creature inside. "I often suffer from insomnia as the full moon draws closer." He glances up at me from beneath his eyelashes. "So, here we are."

Yes. Here we are. And what do you usually do when you can't sleep? Do you do the same thing I do? Lie back on your bed and unfasten your pants, touch yourself and moan and scream and cry and beg because you have no one to help you with your task?

"Here we are." I repeat with a wan smile. He picks up whatever he's been cuddling and holds it to his chest. How I long to be that stupid pet.

"Yes… how has school been?" Ah… banal pleasantries. Torture is what is has been, because I have to see you every single day, Professor Lupin… but, anyway…

I wish I had the guts to say that. I don't, of course. "Good." I reply. "You know… good, but busy." Actually, it's been an absolute horror because I have to suffer through Hermione and Ron holding hands and snuggling disgustingly every single time I pass by. "So far this year has been… great." And then I go to sleep and think about you raping me and tearing me to shreds. How's that for an image?

"I'm glad." He smiles. "You deserve some happiness, Harry."

Yes… maybe I do. But I don't have it. Not yet.