The shards were still there. A painful reminder of loss of control. Remus sat in his chair, the table now clear, and the day anew. With nothing to do since leaving Hogwarts he found he had more and more time to dwell on the past. Remus took a deep breath, eyes focused on the tea stain along the wall. A simple flick of the wand and the stain could be gone. Picking up the new, clean mug, Remus pulled his gaze away, forcing his thoughts to the present. Rinsing the mug in the sink he placed it on the towel to dry, leaving the kitchen for the sitting room. Straining under the weight of books and papers the desk in the corner sat patiently, waiting for Remus. More letters.
Harry's scar is hurting again. Dumbledore seems to think it's a warning, or a sign of some sort. Voldemort is growing stronger. How impressive the boy is turning out to be. The 2nd task is done. Forever the hero he dove into the lake, retrieving not only his 'treasure object' but attempted the others as well. How like his father he is, he'll never know.
-The compartment looked nice. The fresh air was already doing something for me. The moon was finally waning, no longer as strong as it'd been. I'm lucky to have a friend like Albus. He's really the only person I'd consider a friend. And even that's a stretch, as he's more of an authority figure, especially now that I'm to teach under him. Collapsing onto a seat I was asleep before I could even put my bag away. I felt the train slowing. Were we there already? My eyes opened, or so I thought. It was so dark I couldn't see my hand in front of my face.-
Jostled from his thoughts there was a rapping at his window. A large barn owl was waiting impatiently for him to open it. There were several letters attached to his leg, and he could only guess whom they were from. Suspicions confirmed as a small smile appeared on his face he moved to his desk, taking a seat in the rickety, old chair. The first, from Sirius. Every letter from him brought a certain, piece of what he used to be, back into his life. He'd been alone for so long, alone with his memories. At least now he knew that there was someone he could share that with. Someone who would understand.
Apparently the old boy is on the move again. Remus can only assume it's to be closer to Harry, as Sirius isn't stupid enough to reveal where it is he's going in his letters. The weather's hard on both Sirius and Bubckbeak. Not that there was much to Sirius once he escaped Azkaban, but at least that had been during the summer. Nothing but skin and bones he is. What's that saying? He looks like a small breeze would blow him over?
-If it hadn't been completely dark in the compartment, I probably would have found the on goings somewhat amusing. By the sounds of things, someone nearly sat on a cat, and others were getting their legs trampled on. Telling them all to quiet the compartment was alit again, this time by a small flame in the palm of my hand. This sure as hell didn't feel right. The kids in the cabin looked slightly afraid, although it could have been from my droopy and haggard appearance. Muttering something to slightly reassure them I made my way to the compartment door, which, conveniently enough, opened on its own accord, or so it seemed. Raising the flame I didn't need to see the figure to know what it was. Bloody Dementors. What in the blazes they were doing on the train, I could only guess, but the likeliness of it all seemed unintelligent. Give Black a bit more credit. Whoever ordered this search was a git in their own right. That scaly, cold as death hand would be enough of a sight to scare most people, but that noise it makes when it sucks the emotion from any place made a chill run through my entire body, down into the marrow of my bones.-
Damn coo-coo clock. Standing up so quickly that the chair he was sitting in had fallen over, his breath quick in his chest, eyes fixated on the bird that reminded him of the hour. 9 am. So soon? Glancing back down at the quickly jotted letter he noted something in the corner, something he probably would have overlooked. At first it appeared to be a page number, but upon closer inspection, it was a pair of initials, and ones he didn't recognize at that. Perhaps Sirius swiped the parchment from an open window, and these were the initials of whom it belonged.
The 2nd bit of mail that day was the daily prophet. He'd subscribed to it back in late January, when he'd heard about the story covering Hagrid. What a horrible woman that Skeeter. He remembered her from his own school days. A few years younger than the Marauders, she was still always sneaking about, listening to conversations and then tattling to some prefect or teacher. She was the reason, in fact, that one of their most thought out pranks had gone unaccomplished. Remus wasn't usually one to get involved with the actual pranking, he was better at coming up with the ideas, seeing as how he essentially looked through the books, needing to read to absorb his knowledge. Sirius and James had that natural brilliance, yet affectionately called Remus the genius. Coming across the perfect spell, all they had to do was come up with the perfect plan. How to get Severus to drink the potion that would turn him into a woman for 24 hours.
A brilliant plan it was indeed. Having it plotted out to their alibi's, how they would tempt him to drink it, how to manage to get a photograph of him after the transformation. This was to be the most humiliating day of Snape's life. Sitting in thought for a moment, Remus couldn't remember why they were pulling this prank on him, but knew it had to be because of something Severus had started. In order to get Remus involved, it had to have been a bad one. To some astonishment of the four friends, once arriving in the Three Broomsticks, where the potion was to be given to Severus, the Skeeter girl was sitting at a table with him. Everywhere Snape went, the girl was right behind him, making it impossible to slip anything into his drink. Later on, she had the gall to ask why they hadn't done their prank. Naturally they passed it off like they had no idea what she was talking about, but they all spent the time before falling asleep that night, thinking of different curses to use on her.
-'"I'm sorry Remus, I cant," she said as she placed the ring in the palm of the devastated man in front of her – the day his heart died…. A snarl, howl, pain, blood – the night he gained the wolf….' Growling softly as I stood, I'd had enough of these memories without the Dementors help in reliving them. Watching the body of one of the children fall to the floor I stepped over him, the Dementor still advancing. Once the patronus charm had been performed and the horrid beast gone, I turned back to my associates in the compartment. The light flickering back on I could tell by their faces that none had ever seen the like before. The one on the floor was still out cold. A glance at him and it took all the strength I had not to sit on the floor myself and try to wake him. Harry. God, it was like I was looking at James, only with a slightly longer nose and a scar. Interesting the things you remember about people. Stepping out of the way of his friends, who were at his side at an instant, I again had to stop myself from smiling. The boy was lucky indeed, to have friends this worried about him. Sitting back down I reached into my bag, searching for the chocolate I knew I'd stashed in here. Pulling it out I studied it for a moment, making sure it wasn't too old. Harry was stirring by now. Handing them all pieces I had to excuse myself from the confinement of the room. Once outside I grabbed the railing, knuckles going white. Those eyes. I'd had conversations with those eyes, watched those eyes fall in love with my best friend, give birth to a son, and then watched the encompassing lids and all that was affixed be lowered into the ground.-
Swearing out loud the grown man stood once again, having been scanning the paper while thinking to himself. Grabbing his pack of cigarettes from his pocket he lit one, taking a long, furious drag. Damn that Skeeter woman, damn her to hell. Harry Potter's Secret Heartache? Bloody old bat. Hermione must have said something terrible to her to bring this on. Pansy Parkinson, no, he never did like that girl. Being a teacher Remus couldn't be biased, but now that he was no longer under Dumbledore's administration, he was able to think what he wanted.
Calming down, 2 cigarettes and several hours later, he found himself on the front porch. It was unusually warm for this time of year, though the man would make no complaints about that. Sighing softly to himself, he knew there was work to do. The full moon was in 7 days time, and he still needed to repair the shed from last months use. His mood turning cold, distant once more as he set to his task, all happiness he'd found in reminiscing that day was now gone. Wand in hand he'd managed to fix up the unstable aged building well enough to hold the full-grown werewolf. Discarding the patched up robe on the ground, he sat, using the shed's door to lean on, watching the sunset. Another day gone in the monotonous life that was Remus J. Lupin, lycanthropic extraordinaire.
((A.N.- Alright, here it is. This one goes to Angie and Nikki, my sole reviewers and encouragers. So Nik, here's the next chapter, the deal is now complete ;) And Angie, you better be giving your Beta's something to do soon, I'm getting itchy…))