A/N: OMR. All these positive reviews almost made me cry. LOVE YOU GUYS. *glomps y'all*
RecaLupin, sure, as long as you mention me.
Sorry it's been so long! MAJORMAJORMAJOR writer's block. It's not my best, and I hoped that it would be longer, but I wanted to give you a chapter sooner than later.
So.. Yeah. I write this for you, so I hope you enjoy it.
There was no-one there.
It was just the wind, Remus. No-one's going to help you. You could scream or yell for help, but no-one's going to help you. You have to face the boggart yourself. You have to.
"Riddikulus!" I summoned all the energy I had and tried to make the boggart funny.
It didn't change.
There was nothing funny about this. There was nothing I could do to make it better. The whole world hated me… and others of my kind hated them. I knew I could never hate the world. I wanted to be part of it.
But I couldn't be.
I was a werewolf.
A disgusting, foul, murderous werewolf.
I looked into the boggart's dull, empty eyes. I saw my own reflected in them. Mine, glazed with tears, were full of hope. The boggart's, although admittedly not understanding the world around it, were dead. It wasn't living, merely surviving. Was that what I'd be reduced to? Would my eyes one day be deadened and cold, not caring, along with others, if I live or die?
"No." I told myself. The sound echoed off the walls of the near-empty room, my voice wavering with uncertainty and sorrow. "No!" My voice was louder, this time, but if it were possible, the uncertainty and fear in it grew.
The tears streamed down my face like rivers.
I was going to die a lonely, bitter man.
And no-one would care when I did…
I put my hands over my head and sobbed. There was no shame in crying, at least when the only other being in the room didn't know what was going on. It was chanting 'Werewolf' now, switching shape after every time it opened its mouth. I stopped caring what it thought I feared the most. Deep down, I knew that reality was worse than my most terrifying nightmares.
I stopped hearing words and my vision blurred. All that mattered to me was what was going to happen to me; whether I should numb the pain for a while, or tell James, Sirius and Peter what I was, and have done with it.
I had made my choice.
I was going to tell them; but not yet.
I couldn't stop crying.