Year 1976
James Potter:
I was nodding my head in light slumber, when the hospital door flew open, and a white blur past by, quickly disappearing through the only fireplace next to the corridor. I looked at my left to see Peter's confused face. I turned to look at Lily on my right, but she was already at the door, turning the handle.
"Lily, don't-" I said to stop her from going in, but one look on her determine face shut me up, and I, too, got up from the chair and went after her, followed closely by Peter.
I heard the gasp from Lily, before Peter and I crashed into her steep back, almost stumbling to the ground. I looked over her head to see what she was seeing, and I heard Peter's legs giving out on him beside me. I stood there transfixed as Lily ran toward the corner, where the blood trails lead.
There, Remus sat perfectly still, his back supported by the wall, his head little bent, his legs sprawled out in uncomfortable position, clutching a dark sheet around his chest. His white hospital pajama was soaked in what appeared to be his blood. There was a trail of tiny dark blood seeping from his bloodied lips, which dripped endlessly in perfect rhythm on to his stilled chest.
I heard Peter moaning behind me, and I heard Lily's frantic footsteps in that split of a second, but all I could say was nothing.
I was frozen.
"Don't-" His plead made Lily stop for a moment, but she advanced one more step.
"Don't come near me," Remus slid farther away despite the pain, his bloody sheet trailing.
Lily looked as if she was about to cry, but she didn't move. I watched her trembling back, then my eyes found Remus's. He watched me, his golden eyes penetrating my own. "What have I done?" The accusation in that soft question from Remus went through my heart.
How could I tell him? How could I tell him and make him believe none of it was his fault.
My mouth opened and shut. Unable to form a word. The right word. Truth will hurt him more than lies. But how could I tell him lies?
"I-I-I Remus, I-" I gasped for the right words to say. I was already choking in grief of what Remus would feel when he learns of the truth.
"Last night, something happened." It was Peter, who seemed the bravest of us all. He calmly sat on the floor where he had fallen, and talked slowly to Remus as if he was discussing a new star he had found. "Someone went inside the Shrieking Shack. He learned how to freeze the willow and where the tunnel led. He wanted to find where you were going. He saw you go with Pomfrey, and… But James pulled him out before anything happened. You didn't bite anyone."
Remus's eyes found my bandaged hand quickly and then back to my face. I tried to smile, but failed miserably as my eyes started to sting with unshed tears. I watched his blood drip, too horrified to move, too scared to help, too transfixed to look away.
Peter continued calmly, "It wasn't your fault, Remus. You didn't do anything to hurt him. You didn't bite him." He reminded Remus again, trying to make him understand.
More blood dripped from his mouth as he asked softly, "Where's Sirius?" He winced slight, showing his blood stained front teeth.
My stomach tightened, as the silence lingered. Our eyes shifting, unable to look at his penetrating, accusing, fragile and truthful eyes.
A silence could speak so much louder than the word.
He asked, his voice trembling slightly, ever so slightly, the one last question, "Who was he?" His voice almost lost in our tension.
After what seemed like an eternity, "Snape." Peter said almost painfully, turning his face away to look out through the window.
And it seemed that was all Remus needed to confirm what he had feared the most. One of us had betrayed him. One of his friends. One of the family, the pack. The one that had mattered to him more so than rest of us combined.
It seemed as if the time stopped when that name left Peter's tongue, and everything was still, fixed, in branded.
I didn't realize we were being ushered out by Madam Pomfrey, my eyes were too transfixed on Remus…and his blood. We stood there in front of the entrance as Pomfrey closed the door hastily behind her, locking it firmly. And for the third time I saw Dumbledore's strained face.
Remus Lupin:
Come to me, love.
I can't.
You can do it.
It's too hard.
Come on, love. Give me your hand.
I tried, and tried. I can't do it any more.
Open your eyes.
My eyes are open.
No, I mean, open your eyes.I don't understand.
Don't let your eyes fool you.
What do you mean-
Don't believe their lies. They lie…Who? What lies? What do you-
Truth will set you free. Then you will come to me.
Why?
Because I know you will find me.
When?
Soon.
I slowly blinked up at the blurred figures in front of me, wondering if I had a dream or it was my wolf memory from last night. Their colors started to merge together and slowly formed a figure of Professor Dumbledore. The blinding white blur was the reflection of sun from his moon shaped spectacles. As the blur faded away, I stared at his kind blue eyes. They seemed hooded, worried, pained and terribly sad. I suddenly felt embarrassed, I had let him down, I had done something horribly wrong. I could feel my cheek burning up.
I will show you what you are.
Professor Dumbledore was saying something. But I couldn't hear him. I saw his eyes, and I tried to tell him I was sorry.
I tried to move my hand toward him, trying to comfort him, that I understand, that I was all right, that he didn't need to worry about me being a problem, that I will pack my bags, and leave Hogwarts forever.
But my hand refused to move. My bloodied hand.
Albus Dumbledore:
Poor boy's face was burning up with fever. In his feverish face, I saw my nightly nightmare. In his blind, searching eyes, I saw her eyes. In Remus's blood, I saw her hands instead, reaching out to me.
It was uncanny, how he looked so much like her physically. Even the way his hands are shaped, long and lean. Her mother used to tell me she had the hands of pianist, once a upon a time ago…
This was how she must have looked. She was reaching out for my hand, and I couldn't reach out to her in time.
I firmly gripped Remus's cold hand, not caring if his caked blood was rubbing into my hands. I just wanted to keep him safe and sound. I wished I could turn back the time and change everything.
It will be too much for him to handle. Wait a year, then I will tell him.
*He might never understand* The nasty little fear whispered.
He will. I know it. I told the fear. Taming it to silence.
He's too young, and it's too soon. When he's ready, I shall tell him.
*He will hate you forever for it* The fear whispered.
He has to understand. He just has to.
Remus Lupin:
Professor Dumbledore's face started to blur once again. And when they became clear, I saw Mr. Stafford's sad, old face. He didn't say anything, but his face was. I tried to reach out to him, trying to tell him, trying desperately to make him understand that I was sorry. And when he turned his back on me, and started to fade away, I tried to call after him, but my mouth failed to form any word. I stared at his hunched shoulder, and I felt my hot tears against my cheeks.
"Do not show them your weakness," he had told me, when he found me crying after my first outing to Diagon Alley had turned nasty, the grown men had frown upon me and the children threw sticks, and it was only the first month I came under his care. After that, I didn't go out much. And Mr. Stafford and I were content to live apart from the other wizards.
He had also told me no more tears. On King's Cross, I gave him my word.
I had given him my word. And I couldn't even keep one damn promise.
"Man's word is like his life, Remus. You must never break your word, unless you are prepare to give your life," Mr. Stafford had said.
"But what if I didn't have a choice?" I had asked.
"Everyone has a choice."
"But what if I can't keep my word?" My young voice echoing in my head.
"Then you will never be a man." His gentle yet harsh word of wisdom was profound on my young mind then, but now I know better.
Didn't he know that I was never a man and never will be?
James Potter:
I look back now and I realized it was the end of the Marauders, the end of our last bit of carefree childhood that we had cherished against the raging horror of outside world, the real world. All of us, including Snape, had lost a part of our innocence that day, and we would never, ever get that back.
It is funny to think that Snape was more loyal to his promise than Sirius. For he never uttered another word about that night. He stayed back, in the shadow of his fellow Slytherin, hidden from the view. Sometimes I felt his eyes staring at us, and I lowered my eyes in respect, hoping he would forgive us and never betray our secret, hoping everything that had happened was not in vain, not just a cruel game that a lady of fate had played on us.
Sirius never went close to the infirmary, although I had seen him wondering around. He was in his own hell, and I supposed that made me hard to hate him or be angry at him, for seeing him so utterly destroyed, so lost, he was being punished enough. He stopped coming to the Quidditch practice, and eventually, we had to replace him with a third year. He walked around aimlessly alone in his misery, his eyes unseeing what is in front of him, and not even caring about it. I had heard his cries in the dead of the night. I had heard his pleads in his sleep. I had been there for him, and he for me for all my years I had known him.
I forgave him. I had to. Peter followed. Then Lily.
Remus Lupin:
It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault.
I nodded, of course. Yes, sir, I understand. No, sir, I won't need anything. Yes, sir, it's not my fault. Yes. No. Yes. No.
I wiped my eyes for the last time, and looked up at the man I had disappointed. His worried eyes looking at me for any sign of breaking. No, Professor Dumbledore, I won't break, I promise. I was already broken, how can I break even more?
I looked back at him with brave face I had perfected as my years as a werewolf, and said, "Professor, I understand."
His blue eyes still searching, still trying to find out what I was thinking, "Do come for me, if you-"
"Yes, of course." I cut him off. I didn't want his suffocating concern. I didn't want him to worry about me, feel burdened by me. I opened the door, and looked back at him.
"I-I," I searched for words to say, to finish this, "Thank you, sir." His eyes softened and he nodded.
"Hello, Fawke," I greeted the beautiful Pheonix, as he eyed me in silence, obviously too wary of me. I had greeted the Phoenix many times through the years, but he had never uttered a sound. Just his eyes looking at me, readying to flee if I were to attack him.
"Good bye, then." Feeling more miserable, I climbed out of the portrait hole, and padded slowly down the dark corridor. It was dark out, no sunlight coming through the windows. I briefly wondered why, but the distant growling of thunders hinted me in.
It was raining.
The grounds looked gray and colorless against the dark sky. I watched the rain for a minute and remembered I should probably get going.
"Lumos." A shiny blue ball appeared in my open hands and I held it gently to show me the way. It was only handful of magic I could do without my wand, and I was relieved to receive a comfort from the color that glowed in front of me.
Do you know, Moony, what my favorite colour is?
No, Padfoot. What is it?
Blue. The colour of my eyes.
Okay.
Aren't you going to tell me?
Tell you what?
How much you like, no, love my eyes.
You are such a narcissist.
Oh, yeah? Well, you are a bloody werewolf!"You are a bloody werewolf." A shadow said, breaking my memory.
"Severus." My breath was caught in my throat. I dropped my hands, the blue ball disappearing into thin air. The darkness surrounded us. I closed my eyes, afraid that he might see my eyes glowing in the dark, afraid I might scare him even more.
Then I remembered, the dark clouds. There was no moonlight to light up my eyes this time. I slowly opened my eyes, and noticed Snape's dark face staring down at me. I stared at his dark eyes staring at me staring at him staring at me staring at him. Staring at me, staring at myself, staring at my beast.
"Snap out of it, Lupin." I blinked, noticing I was on the floor, looking up at him on top of me. My face felt the sting of fresh slap. I didn't dare touch my face. I felt his heavy weight on my stomach, and his legs pressing down on my hands.
"Don't feel so alarmed," he moved closer to my ear, his eyes staring at my own, "that I am still talking to you. Don't be so disappointed…" His breath was heavy and warm, "that I didn't seem to be afraid of you." His warm tongue flicked out and licked my earlobe.
"You didn't honestly think I was that stupid, do you?" His surprisingly warm right hand pushed my left face, bringing my ear closer to his mouth. "I knew about your little secret, long ago, Lupin. I just didn't know how to see you. That treacherous little tree almost knocked me out the first time I tried. But how fortunate that your little boyfriend came along and told me the easy way to get in."
I cringed under his touch, under his heavy breath.
"Don't you dare think I was out numbered by Black and your little secret. Don't you dare think you could have killed me. I already knew you were a werewolf, and I already knew how to protect myself. If it hasn't for that Potter, that could have been out little secret."
"Severus, I am-"
"Shut up! Don't you dare say you are sorry. I am not done talking! Remember this, Lupin, if you ever decide to fool me again, I will kill you. If you ever fuck with me again, I will make sure you wished you never lived at all. If you ever share this with anyone, I will fuck you up so bad, no one will be able to tell it's you at all."
He raised himself up and looked down at me with angry eyes and hardened mouth. I thought he was leaving, but sudden swift of an air and a hard clasped on my mouth proved me wrong.
He pushed his tongue inside roughly and desperately. He kissed my mouth as if he didn't have a choice. I felt the hardening poking at my stomach and I realized the reason why. The reason why he wanted to see me, when he clearly knew I was a werewolf. He was mad. Mad at himself, for falling under the spell of a werewolf, and at me, for making him but never acknowledging him. And he was mad at how he was straddling me and kissing me against the cold cobble stoned floor like some kind of a gutter snake. He was a proud one, and how could he be reduced to such low being, controlled by a dark beast, who never knew he existed except in the potions class.
"Remember this, Lupin, and stay away from me. If you ever tell of any of this, remember that I will, too." With that his warm body was gone, and I was left cold and alone.
I will show you what you are.
I am a monster. I am a beast. I am not a man.
From the distant, deep inside the dark forest, I heard the howls of werewolves, calling me home.
tbc