someone has kindly pointed out to me that sirius has grey eyes. i'm sorry but i think that he is far better suited to brown ones and so that is how he is staying in my fic.
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It was dark, a strong autumnal wind whistled through the branches of trees making them creak and bend, and sending dead leaves racing across the grass. A full moon hung like a silver orb suspended from some high, unseen beam, watching over Hogwarts School. The front doors opened, and a crack of yellow light fell out across the steps and sounds of laughter and chatter floated out. Then the doors shut and everything was returned to darkness, with only the lonely sound of the wind moving through trees.
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Remus had changed an hour ago. His arms had lengthened, a tail had sprouted and long, silver grey hairs covered his body. Long fangs glistened with saliva and yellow eyes rolled in their sockets as the werewolf threw itself around an empty room of the shrieking shack, hitting walls and skirting boards, crushing chairs and small tables with it's bulk and force. It was a terrifying sight to watch, but no one was there to see. Remus was no longer capable of coherent thought. He only knew that he was very angry about something, and also very sad. The combination of emotions confused the werewolf and so it did the only thing it's simplified mind could bring itself to do in a situation like this-it made as much noise, caused as much damage and inflicted as much physical pain as it could. It already had several deep gashes along its back and there was a line of blood leading from the corner of it's mouth to the top of it's jaw.
Suddenly, it stopped it's trail of destruction. It's ears pricked and swivelled and it looked towards the door. Silently, it padded over and sniffed at the slight breeze coming up the stairs. There was something else in the house. The werewolf could hear it making it's way up the stairs, the sound of it's breathing, the occasional creak of a floorboard under it's feet. He could tell by the sound of it's footsteps that it was not as heavy as him, would be no match against him in a fight. Again he sniffed at the air. It was a dog. Another beast, in his territory! The werewolf pressed itself against the floor, and let a low threatening growl escape it's lips. It's eyes were fixed on the top of the stairs, suddenly, a pair of pitch black ears appeared, and then the face of a large, bear-like dog appeared, with large soft brown eyes that somewhere in the back of it's head, it knew it recognised.
But there was no time to think about it because now was his chance and the werewolf ran at the dog, taking it completely by surprise. They rolled down the stairs, their claws sunk deep into each other and the werewolf trying to bite the dogs neck. They landed in a pile at the bottom and the dog managed to get away, running into a corner and growling, baring it's teeth at the werewolf, but the werewolf was not afraid. Tonight, there was an insatiable urge to tear and rip and destroy. It ran at the dog, sinking it's teeth into the flesh at the shoulder and worrying it, ignoring the feeble clawing of the other dog. It flung the beast at the wall and it fell, landing on the floor in a bedraggled pile, it's blood wetting it's fur. Suddenly, the dog turned into a man. A boy. A boy with dark black hair and soft brown eyes and blood, trickling along his skin.
"Remus..." he said, a dribble of blood rolling across his chin "Remus..."
The werewolf shook it's head in confusion, there was a screaming at the back of it's mind. High pitched, panicked, desperate, a wail that wouldn't stop. It was too much, the confusion, the pain, the anger, the rush of the blood in it's veins as it grappled with the dog. The werewolf felt suddenly tired, he anted it all to stop. Turning away from the bleeding boy, it ran at the opposite wall, crashing into it headfirst again and again, thumping it's head against the solid brick, bits of plaster falling from the ceiling and landing in it's hair. Finally, it fell, concussed and exhausted to the floor. The boy, having watched the whole thing, lay back and with barely a thought as to the danger he was in, fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
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Remus awaoke. His head felt like it had cracked and a million doxies were having a party in it. He tried to roll over but his whole body screamed out in pain. Forcing himself, he put an arm underneath him and pushed himself up. His eyes felt like they were stuck together and as he forced them to open, he realised they were crusty with blood. In fact, he was covered in blood. His whole body was criss-crossed with scratches and tears, dried blood colouring the skin not already blossoming with bruises a dark red. Weak sunlight pushed its way feebly through the dust and grime on a small window above his head, dust motes swirled prettily in the light and behind him he heard someone moan. It was only then that he really woke up and realised where he was, what day it was and why he was there, covered in blood and bruises. He whirled around, almost crying out in pain as some of the scabs already forming on his skin broke and fresh blood squeezed out to join the already dried blood.
There, lying opposite him, in a ray of morning sunlight, lay Sirius. His eyes were closed but his mouth was open and a strand of hair that had fallen in front of his face was blowing imperceptibly in the faint breath coming from his parted lips. Remus crawled painfully over to Sirius, taking in his friends ripped and bloodstained clothes, and realising that he himself must have caused the damage. He could only remember glimpses of the night before; arriving at the shrieking shack, realising Sirius was there, rolling down some stairs, and then gazing at a young boy, helpless and trembling on the floor. Remus put out a hand and saw that the boy was still bleeding. There was a deep gash running along either side of his shoulder and although it was covered in half-formed scabs and dried blood, fresh blood was still oozing out of it.
I must have done that, thought Remus, putting a hand up to his lips he felt the blood and now that he knew that, he realised that he could taste blood on his tongue, his teeth. Quickly, he stumbled to his feet and ran to another corner, heaving and retching. Tears streamed down his face as he turned around, wiping an arm across his mouth.
"What have I done?" he whispered. Not enough. There was still time, if he hurried, to get Sirius back to school, to Madame Pomfrey. Maybe she'd be able to save him. Remus leant down to pick up his still barely breathing friend and then realised that he himself was in no state to approach the school. Unlike animagi, when Remus transformed into a werewolf, when he turned back, he wasn't fully-or even partially-dressed.
Ignoring his own injuries, Remus raced up the stairs, painfully aware of how short of time he was.
T.B.C