Moonlight Madness
By shadowlessphantom
Warning: This is about REMUS and HERMIONE, in case you're just a stray dog who happened to 'stray' here. If you don't like what you see, what you read, or just in case you don't like it for no reason, you're free to hit that Back button and depart to other fan fics. It will clearly be my pleasure to see you leave. YOUR OWN FLAMES WILL BURN YOU IN HELL. See you there mate.
Chapter Four: Unmasked Agony
Remus had stayed a few good days in Hogwarts, once in a while substituting for teachers who couldn't teach, but most of the time, helping Dumbledore in some errands or staying at the library where books would drive out his feeling of solitude.
His solitude though, despite the presence of so many people around him, remained cold in his heart—like a dead hand gripping it, making it hard to breathe, making him want to die to stop the pain that just wouldn't ease.
But Remus doubted it if death would ease away the pain. Maybe it wouldn't; maybe he would find himself as a Hogwarts ghost, unfinished business, attached to the living memory of what happened in the lake just a few nights ago.
When he thought of it, Remus was sure there were only a few memories he cherished, ever since he became a werewolf and even before it. These few good memories were close to his heart, as it was the few that made him go on and want to live despite the curse set on him.
And he was also sure that the best of them was that kiss with Hermione. He just couldn't help it. He believed there was something seriously wrong with his mind, but when he thought further, he always unraveled so many things in his heart and soul—things he knew to be right.
Night after night, he found it hard to sleep. Charming the room he was given into one pretty much like the guest room in Hermione's apartment didn't help either, as it only reminded him of her, and so he changed it back and he found himself staring into dull, dark castle stone with sleep still far off from his system and still, with Hermione on his mind.
Dumbledore, being the wise one he is, had started to notice this and got apprehensive. Something was wrong, and he had a feeling it was concerned with something Minerva had told him.
"Oh Albus," she had said the day after Remus' stay in Hogwarts. "I'm so glad Remus chose to stay here. It only means he doesn't need to take that horrible Wolfsbane and be in pain." Dumbledore nodded and smiled.
He himself had considered just setting Remus out into the Forbidden Forest to transform instead of taking the potion, which caused tremendous pain to him. That way he didn't need to suffer. And Severus was least than glad to make the Potion in the first place.
"Though there's something bothering me Albus."
She had continued, walking across the room and looking out the window. "Then name it Professor McGonagall, and be rid of it once and for all." He had replied, and the woman in emerald robes had sighed and turned back to him.
"Yesterday, when he and Ms. Granger went here, I saw them by the castle doors, looking deeply into each other's eyes. It wasn't just looking, not one of those staring contests—there was something different about it Albus."
Dumbledore had fallen into deep thought after that, thinking to himself that it also bothered him in some sort of way. But not wanting to worry McGonagall, he looked up at her and smiled.
"My dear Professor, don't worry yourself. It might just be that you caught them in a serious conversation."
After, McGonagall had left and Dumbledore had resumed to his daily pacing around his office every time he was caught up in deep and serious thinking. Remus had been acting rather odd and distracted lately—maybe it was something to be bothered about.
Another thing was he lacked sleep; it was obvious as he had circles under his eyes and he looked extremely exhausted even at breakfast like he had gone on a nighttime stroll as a werewolf.
He should most probably talk to him and be done with the thinking.
Remus muttered the password at the same old stone gargoyle leading towards Dumbledore's office, after receiving word that he was calling for him.
He was pleased—he had nothing to do today and was glad to be cleansed of thinking and be sent off to do something that would take off his mind from the unchanged pain in his heart and the reason of it.
He knocked on the door and opened it, and saw Dumbledore standing and peering out of the window, opening a box of Bertie Bott's every flavor Beans. He smiled inwardly at the Headmaster's child likeness. No wonder he was the Headmaster.
"Fine day, Remus, don't you think?" he said the moment the door clicked close and he had stood up beside him and looked out the window as well, shaking his head after Dumbledore offered him the Bertie Bott's.
"I think so. Why is it, Dumbledore? Got anything special for me to do today? I'm glad to do it." He said with a smile that was quite forced, though he was willing to do anything. But he hadn't been smiling realistically for days now, and there was, of course, a reason.
"No, no Remus, nothing for you to do today. I just want us to talk." He explained and turned around, sitting on one couch and motioning him to do the same at the couch across from where he sat.
He nodded and sat down, watching the change of Dumbledore's expression from casual talk to business. He wondered what it was about. He was quickly answered.
"It's about you and Ms. Granger, if you do not mind."
He didn't flinch, and his face didn't change emotion. But the pain was there—it had been there since that memorable morning of goodbye though he tried to ignore it, but now he felt it and it hurt so much.
"Remus?"
He looked up at the man in front of him with half moon spectacles and blue eyes peering over at him seriously and worriedly.
"I don't mind, Albus." He replied, though the topic itself was something he had not wanted to be brought up. He just wanted it closed and forgotten and he just wanted to hide from it until it became lost somewhere far from reach of his memory.
"Minerva told me of how she had seen you in an intense moment out there before you entered the castle the day you visited. Not that I am trying to get into your situation, but is something going on?"
The pain doubled it seemed, and Remus felt a lump on his throat, though he managed to speak. "You may say that."
Dumbledore seemed to be thinking of the right question to ask or the right words to say, but it didn't come. Only then did he realize that the Headmaster was waiting for him to speak of everything. He was glad to let it all out, but it was hard.
Dumbledore listened, paying close attention to every word said and every deed done. At last, when the story was finished, he looked out of the window and sighed.
"Strange how love comes by in the most unexpected time and with the most unexpected person." He said softly, looking over at Remus who had taken interest in the sleeping form of Fawkes just in the corner of the room.
"And how easy it comes and how easy it is taken away."
Dumbledore felt the extra weight of the words spoken, meaning more than what they really meant. He stood up and walked over to the same window he had been when Remus had walked in and shook his head.
"No Remus, you let it SLIP away. It was not taken. It was in your hands but you let go and set it free when all it wanted to do was be with you and stay."
Remus felt trapped for some reason after this statement; he didn't know if he wanted to cry—there was just something heavy pressing against his heart, something that kept him down and troubled after he heard those words.
"If possible Albus, I love her so much that I don't want her to get hurt." He said softly, though he heard and he turned around, sitting back down.
"You don't want her hurt, but with what you have done, you just have. But you said it yourself—it was your best choice. If I may say so myself, it was your choice, but it wasn't the best."
Remus kept silent for a long while, thinking of the countless possibilities, but at the same time thinking of the countless impossibilities. "Pardon, Dumbledore?" said a painting from up in the wall, making both of them look up. The Headmaster smiled and signaled with his hand as if to say go on.
"I would just like to say that if she is in love with you and you love her back, what others would say, what imperfections and flaws you have does not matter, neither does your age. Your love matters, that's all and that is enough."
Dumbledore turned to him earnestly and stood up, leaving his office for dinner and leaving him to think on his own about the meaningful things discussed. For a long while he sat there with nothing but more questions and still, no answers.
Hermione sat in the kitchen counter, absently stirring her tea and looking out at the naked oak tree outside her apartment window. The radio was crooning beside her, tuned into a radio station that played old Muggle songs.
She found herself thinking, not for the first time, of Remus as they had breakfast here and talked of the oak and Hogwarts and sang the school song. Hermione had not been crying for days, but her newly gathered strength failed and she broke down and cried again.
He went away. He left. She was alone, the apartment was silent and there was nothing but the sound of her sobs and the fall of her tears.
There was nothing but the pain and the loneliness. The agony. The longing. She so wanted to be back in his arms, like when he told her he loved her and just stay that way till old age took them from the world.
Her tears didn't stop, and thinking of having Christmas alone seemed to be inviting and a good idea at that moment of despair. She didn't want to be with Ron and Harry for the mean time—they didn't understand. As for Remus, he chose to go.
She looked out of the window, sipping on the now cold tea. Slowly after a while, she stood up and arranged the flowers given to her by Remus that she had placed in a vase in the living room, the note somewhere in the mess of her room, crumpled and tattered.
Goodbye.
Was it really goodbye?
A/N:
Was it good mate? Remember to review, and suggestions are always welcome, so hit that Submit Review button below and start typing away so I would know! Though sorry the chapter isn't that long; let's say there's more on the next chapter so I had to make that one short.
Damn it guys, you know what? My story compliments how sad I am right now. My dog just fckin' died, and I'm like, attached to her or something because she's after all OUR dog, and she's old already (german sheperd, she's one of our very first dogs). My mom woke me up to tell me but I didn't want to see her until my brother buried her already. I might bloody cry, and my siblings would tease the hell out of me. Thanks a lot for their moral support.
Sorry mate, lots of babbles there, but I am bloody sad. Anyway, thanks a bunch for sparing time, and for the last set of reviews I received, thanks so much for that too. You guys rock, so rock on!
By shadowlessphantom
Warning: This is about REMUS and HERMIONE, in case you're just a stray dog who happened to 'stray' here. If you don't like what you see, what you read, or just in case you don't like it for no reason, you're free to hit that Back button and depart to other fan fics. It will clearly be my pleasure to see you leave. YOUR OWN FLAMES WILL BURN YOU IN HELL. See you there mate.
Chapter Four: Unmasked Agony
Remus had stayed a few good days in Hogwarts, once in a while substituting for teachers who couldn't teach, but most of the time, helping Dumbledore in some errands or staying at the library where books would drive out his feeling of solitude.
His solitude though, despite the presence of so many people around him, remained cold in his heart—like a dead hand gripping it, making it hard to breathe, making him want to die to stop the pain that just wouldn't ease.
But Remus doubted it if death would ease away the pain. Maybe it wouldn't; maybe he would find himself as a Hogwarts ghost, unfinished business, attached to the living memory of what happened in the lake just a few nights ago.
When he thought of it, Remus was sure there were only a few memories he cherished, ever since he became a werewolf and even before it. These few good memories were close to his heart, as it was the few that made him go on and want to live despite the curse set on him.
And he was also sure that the best of them was that kiss with Hermione. He just couldn't help it. He believed there was something seriously wrong with his mind, but when he thought further, he always unraveled so many things in his heart and soul—things he knew to be right.
Night after night, he found it hard to sleep. Charming the room he was given into one pretty much like the guest room in Hermione's apartment didn't help either, as it only reminded him of her, and so he changed it back and he found himself staring into dull, dark castle stone with sleep still far off from his system and still, with Hermione on his mind.
Dumbledore, being the wise one he is, had started to notice this and got apprehensive. Something was wrong, and he had a feeling it was concerned with something Minerva had told him.
"Oh Albus," she had said the day after Remus' stay in Hogwarts. "I'm so glad Remus chose to stay here. It only means he doesn't need to take that horrible Wolfsbane and be in pain." Dumbledore nodded and smiled.
He himself had considered just setting Remus out into the Forbidden Forest to transform instead of taking the potion, which caused tremendous pain to him. That way he didn't need to suffer. And Severus was least than glad to make the Potion in the first place.
"Though there's something bothering me Albus."
She had continued, walking across the room and looking out the window. "Then name it Professor McGonagall, and be rid of it once and for all." He had replied, and the woman in emerald robes had sighed and turned back to him.
"Yesterday, when he and Ms. Granger went here, I saw them by the castle doors, looking deeply into each other's eyes. It wasn't just looking, not one of those staring contests—there was something different about it Albus."
Dumbledore had fallen into deep thought after that, thinking to himself that it also bothered him in some sort of way. But not wanting to worry McGonagall, he looked up at her and smiled.
"My dear Professor, don't worry yourself. It might just be that you caught them in a serious conversation."
After, McGonagall had left and Dumbledore had resumed to his daily pacing around his office every time he was caught up in deep and serious thinking. Remus had been acting rather odd and distracted lately—maybe it was something to be bothered about.
Another thing was he lacked sleep; it was obvious as he had circles under his eyes and he looked extremely exhausted even at breakfast like he had gone on a nighttime stroll as a werewolf.
He should most probably talk to him and be done with the thinking.
Remus muttered the password at the same old stone gargoyle leading towards Dumbledore's office, after receiving word that he was calling for him.
He was pleased—he had nothing to do today and was glad to be cleansed of thinking and be sent off to do something that would take off his mind from the unchanged pain in his heart and the reason of it.
He knocked on the door and opened it, and saw Dumbledore standing and peering out of the window, opening a box of Bertie Bott's every flavor Beans. He smiled inwardly at the Headmaster's child likeness. No wonder he was the Headmaster.
"Fine day, Remus, don't you think?" he said the moment the door clicked close and he had stood up beside him and looked out the window as well, shaking his head after Dumbledore offered him the Bertie Bott's.
"I think so. Why is it, Dumbledore? Got anything special for me to do today? I'm glad to do it." He said with a smile that was quite forced, though he was willing to do anything. But he hadn't been smiling realistically for days now, and there was, of course, a reason.
"No, no Remus, nothing for you to do today. I just want us to talk." He explained and turned around, sitting on one couch and motioning him to do the same at the couch across from where he sat.
He nodded and sat down, watching the change of Dumbledore's expression from casual talk to business. He wondered what it was about. He was quickly answered.
"It's about you and Ms. Granger, if you do not mind."
He didn't flinch, and his face didn't change emotion. But the pain was there—it had been there since that memorable morning of goodbye though he tried to ignore it, but now he felt it and it hurt so much.
"Remus?"
He looked up at the man in front of him with half moon spectacles and blue eyes peering over at him seriously and worriedly.
"I don't mind, Albus." He replied, though the topic itself was something he had not wanted to be brought up. He just wanted it closed and forgotten and he just wanted to hide from it until it became lost somewhere far from reach of his memory.
"Minerva told me of how she had seen you in an intense moment out there before you entered the castle the day you visited. Not that I am trying to get into your situation, but is something going on?"
The pain doubled it seemed, and Remus felt a lump on his throat, though he managed to speak. "You may say that."
Dumbledore seemed to be thinking of the right question to ask or the right words to say, but it didn't come. Only then did he realize that the Headmaster was waiting for him to speak of everything. He was glad to let it all out, but it was hard.
Dumbledore listened, paying close attention to every word said and every deed done. At last, when the story was finished, he looked out of the window and sighed.
"Strange how love comes by in the most unexpected time and with the most unexpected person." He said softly, looking over at Remus who had taken interest in the sleeping form of Fawkes just in the corner of the room.
"And how easy it comes and how easy it is taken away."
Dumbledore felt the extra weight of the words spoken, meaning more than what they really meant. He stood up and walked over to the same window he had been when Remus had walked in and shook his head.
"No Remus, you let it SLIP away. It was not taken. It was in your hands but you let go and set it free when all it wanted to do was be with you and stay."
Remus felt trapped for some reason after this statement; he didn't know if he wanted to cry—there was just something heavy pressing against his heart, something that kept him down and troubled after he heard those words.
"If possible Albus, I love her so much that I don't want her to get hurt." He said softly, though he heard and he turned around, sitting back down.
"You don't want her hurt, but with what you have done, you just have. But you said it yourself—it was your best choice. If I may say so myself, it was your choice, but it wasn't the best."
Remus kept silent for a long while, thinking of the countless possibilities, but at the same time thinking of the countless impossibilities. "Pardon, Dumbledore?" said a painting from up in the wall, making both of them look up. The Headmaster smiled and signaled with his hand as if to say go on.
"I would just like to say that if she is in love with you and you love her back, what others would say, what imperfections and flaws you have does not matter, neither does your age. Your love matters, that's all and that is enough."
Dumbledore turned to him earnestly and stood up, leaving his office for dinner and leaving him to think on his own about the meaningful things discussed. For a long while he sat there with nothing but more questions and still, no answers.
Hermione sat in the kitchen counter, absently stirring her tea and looking out at the naked oak tree outside her apartment window. The radio was crooning beside her, tuned into a radio station that played old Muggle songs.
She found herself thinking, not for the first time, of Remus as they had breakfast here and talked of the oak and Hogwarts and sang the school song. Hermione had not been crying for days, but her newly gathered strength failed and she broke down and cried again.
He went away. He left. She was alone, the apartment was silent and there was nothing but the sound of her sobs and the fall of her tears.
There was nothing but the pain and the loneliness. The agony. The longing. She so wanted to be back in his arms, like when he told her he loved her and just stay that way till old age took them from the world.
Her tears didn't stop, and thinking of having Christmas alone seemed to be inviting and a good idea at that moment of despair. She didn't want to be with Ron and Harry for the mean time—they didn't understand. As for Remus, he chose to go.
She looked out of the window, sipping on the now cold tea. Slowly after a while, she stood up and arranged the flowers given to her by Remus that she had placed in a vase in the living room, the note somewhere in the mess of her room, crumpled and tattered.
Goodbye.
Was it really goodbye?
A/N:
Was it good mate? Remember to review, and suggestions are always welcome, so hit that Submit Review button below and start typing away so I would know! Though sorry the chapter isn't that long; let's say there's more on the next chapter so I had to make that one short.
Damn it guys, you know what? My story compliments how sad I am right now. My dog just fckin' died, and I'm like, attached to her or something because she's after all OUR dog, and she's old already (german sheperd, she's one of our very first dogs). My mom woke me up to tell me but I didn't want to see her until my brother buried her already. I might bloody cry, and my siblings would tease the hell out of me. Thanks a lot for their moral support.
Sorry mate, lots of babbles there, but I am bloody sad. Anyway, thanks a bunch for sparing time, and for the last set of reviews I received, thanks so much for that too. You guys rock, so rock on!