It was a rare thing now to be able to sit down, and think unrestful thoughts, or to be able to rest at all. Everybody was always on their feet, doing this, that, or something different entirely. But no matter how many different things were going on to help a cause, the cause, there was still one main thing that hovered near eveybodys hearts. Pain. Nobody was left out of the torture that was heart-ache as death was not partial to just a specific group, but that was the way it was during a war. Long days, restless nights, heart-ache and undoubtable pain.
Oh, and fear. There was also fear that acompanied that ever hovering pain, the two strong emotions went hand in hand, playing off of each othersmost lack-luster appeals. Pain would always appear when fear was dropped, and when the pain subsided, fear took over insisting that pain was near again. So there was no escape, except those rare moments that people were able to sit down, and actually rest. Those fleeting moments of a somewhat clear mind-set always induced jealousy, as the rare only stuck those whom deserved it most, and it was almost unthinkable to have two people having a rare moment at the same time.
But even the unthinkable was thought of, as two weary men were seated, exaustedly around a too small wooden table, in the darkness of an overlying shadow where no light could penetrate. Low whispers were exchanged so that only they could hear, and if it were even possible, a non-threatning look of thought passed over each face in due turn. Washing away the bloody greyness that war brought about.
"Do you know yet," the first voice asked. Obviously the voice was a bit older, the wizened tone was weathered and dry although the face it belonged to was greying around the edges but still held a dull spark of youth.
"No Remus... the moon isn't full for another three days," a low harsh chuckle escaped mirthlessly from the lips of the younger man. His tone was not as abrasive nor as worn as his elders, but still held a knowing note. As if he had seen a deal of something no young man should ever, but at the same time nothing as war was in its hatchling stages. "You should know that."
A terse shake of the head showed his initial disregard of the others words, and also an acompanying feral grin showed a cunning thought that had escaped inside his mind, "Well Bill... How many fingers am I holding up?" The older man by the name of Remus then swiftly produced his hand with three fingers held up, the others curled into a fist.
Instinctively Bill had answered without a second thought, "Three... but what does that have to do with anything?" Oh the naiveness of the man. He had no idea as to what that silly question had to do with him beinga werewolf, or not being a werewolf for that fact. As a few strands of his wild flame colored hair escaped their ponytail prison, they fell around his face giving him a wild look as he leaned forward to examine the look on Remus' face.
Smugness was written all over his face as he leaned back in his chair and surveyed the younger man for a few seconds before returning his now unclenched hand to his side pocket, "Tell me Bill," clearly this rare moment to speak of things on each others minds between friends had aroused a semblance of forgotten amusement on Remus' part. "How is it that you can see my hand in this dark corner, with no light at all?" He was rightfully enjoying the look of confusion that crossed over Bill's now pale face.
"I-I don't know?" You could call it a nervous habit, and that would be the right thing to call it, but others would call Bill's habit to reach up to his ear and pull on his earring as he thought, ratherannoying. Tugging away at the dangling fang Bill closed his eyes and tried to get the haunting image of Remus' slightly glowing brown eyes out of his mind.
"That, my dear Weasley. Is because you have contracted werewolfism!" Remus stated in a low whisper that any normal person would not have been able to hear, but it was clear that with a heightened sense of hearing, one would be able to deciepher the somewhat cryptic message. And it appeared to be that the conversation was not of anything remotely mindless or easing anymore. But brought Bill's heart back into a place of fear. Fear that told him in three days time he would be facing the worst pain he would ever experience.