Remus dreamed of Hogwarts again. He was stepping outside of the castle when he spotted a girl walking towards the Whomping Willow. He tried to call out to her, to warn her to stay away, but his voice only came out in a hoarse whisper. The tree unfurled its branches predatorily and its roots spread open to reveal a dark cavern. She walked faster now, intent to see what was inside. Remus ran after her; he had to protect her, but she slipped farther away with every step he took. Evil yellow eyes appeared in the darkness of the cavern, but she didn’t see the danger she was in. He screamed her name, and this time she heard him. She stopped and turned around as Remus caught up to her. Her almond eyes were filled with fear and sorrow. He took her hand and gently tried to pull her back, but she shook her head, tears now streaming down her cheeks.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked urgently. She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, his dream was invaded by faraway voices. He felt his mind begin to wake, and the girl faded from him. “No, don’t go yet,” he pleaded, but the voices became clearer and the dream disappeared.
“Is that your move?”
“Hold on, I’m thinking.”
“Well, hurry up! I want to get on with slaughtering you.”
“You can be a real prat sometimes, you know that?”
Remus tried to force himself back to sleep, but it was no use. He could barely remember what his dream had been about anymore. All he knew was that it had left him feeling unfulfilled, as if there were something he still needed to find out. Giving up on recovering the dream, Remus opened his eyes and looked around the carriage blearily.
Sirius and Peter were playing Wizard’s chess, and judging by the dark frown on his face, Sirius was losing badly. Remus chuckled under his breath. These games never ended well, but Sirius was a slave to his pride when Peter challenged him.
“All right, Remus?” Sirius asked, looking over. “We were about to hold a mirror to your mouth.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” mumbled Remus sleepily. “Are we there yet?”
“Almost,” Sirius replied, glaring at the chess board. “All right, rook, move forward three spaces. No, wait! Two spaces. Wait… three. Yeah, three.” The rook shook his head and trudged forward resignedly. It had long since given up trying to give Sirius advice.
“That’s your move? Interesting… Not what I would have done, but interesting.” Peter savored the words, biding his time.
“Why don’t you just put him out of his misery and be done with it?” James asked. “This is why I never play you anymore.”
“Hey!” Sirius said sharply. “Whose side are you on, anyway? I haven’t lost yet.”
“Actually…” Peter grinned wickedly. “Bishop, take the king. Checkmate.”
The bishop strode towards the king and smashed him to bits with a satisfied smile. Sirius stared at the board uncomprehendingly, then scowled when he saw where he had been tricked. “Son of a bitch!” he snapped.
“Ha!” Peter crowed triumphantly. “I remain, and shall remain, undefeated!”
Sirius irritably swept the chess pieces back into the box, muttering something unintelligible but most likely obscene.
“Oh, lighten up, Sirius. You can’t be the best at everything,” Remus smiled. He was glad Peter had found something he could beat Sirius at. He felt it was good for both of their egos.
The train began to brake, and the wheels emitted a loud squeal. Remus winced and rubbed his forehead. He had a splitting headache that he knew would persist for the next few days. The scene outside the window moved slower and slower until they finally lurched to a stop. Remus forgot his pain when he glimpsed the cozily familiar train station outside. Hogsmeade, he thought blissfully. He was just one carriage ride away from the home he had longed for all summer. He braced his aching body and rose, holding the back of his seat for support.
“Listen, I’m going to the hospital wing immediately after we arrive,” said Remus, still leaning against his seat. “So I’m trusting you three not to torture the new first years at the Sorting, all right? I don’t want to come back and find them quivering in the corner because they’re afraid of bed-check trolls.”
“Bed-check trolls, that’s not a bad idea!” said Sirius. “We’re rubbing off on you after all!”
“Careful, Sirius,” said Peter in a mock stern tone. “He is a prefect, you know.”
Sirius and James grinned at each other. They seemed to think that Remus being a prefect this year was their free pass to get into even more trouble than before.
Remus sighed. “Just wait until tomorrow to hex them, all right? Is that too much to ask?”
“We’ll try our best, mate, but no promises,” James winked.
A sharp knock on the door distracted Remus from further reprimands. Madam Pomfrey entered without being bidden. “It’s time to go,” she announced. “Come along now.”
Remus’s face fell. “What, now? Here?”
“Of course,” she said, oblivious to his confusion. “Professor Dumbledore instructed me to retrieve you directly from the station.”
“But I wanted go to the castle first,” Remus said disappointedly.
“The castle? Look at the sun! You know perfectly well there’s no time! We’re already cutting this much too close. You’re lucky you were even allowed on the train today!” Madam Pomfrey snapped impatiently. She softened when she saw the stung expression on Remus’s face.
“I’m sorry, my dear, but we must leave now.”
Remus sensed a slight edge of fear in her voice. Of course. She’s afraid of me, he realized with a sinking feeling. Others might have felt power at this, but Remus’s stomach knotted with shame.
“Well,” he said quietly, “I guess that’s that, then.”
“Sorry, Remus,” James said. “Good luck tonight.”
“Stay strong!” added Sirius, raising his fist in the air.
"We'll come see you tomorrow," Peter promised.
Remus smiled appreciatively. “Thanks.”
Madam Pomfrey led Remus briskly off the train and onto the crowded platform. They merged into the throng of students heading for the carriages, and then quickly slipped out the other side into the station. A few curious eyes peered at them from the platform and through the train windows, but Remus ignored them. He knew they would soon forget him in their excitement to board the carriages to Hogwarts. No one ever noticed him for long. Sirius and James would never be able to get away with this, Remus thought with a trace of rejection.
They passed through the station quickly and emerged into the brilliance of Hogsmeade Village. Remus looked wistfully at the shops lining the streets, their windows twinkling enticingly in the late sunlight. He wished they could stop in the Three Broomsticks for a rest, but he knew it was useless to ask. He sighed longingly, imagining sweet butterbeer spreading warmth through his tired body.
“Come on, Remus, hurry now!” Madam Pomfrey urged, dragging him along by the arm.
“I’m trying!” Remus panted.
Walking had loosened the stiffness in his muscles, but he was still exhausted. It took all his energy to keep up with their hurried pace. He squinted at the sun to judge how much time was left. He had at least an hour, but Madam Pomfrey was still pulling him along at arm’s length as if he were a time bomb. They left the main street and headed down a dirt road away from town. When they finally reached the shack, Remus collapsed onto the fence, gasping for air. Madam Pomfrey marched firmly down the path to the door and unlocked it with her wand. She turned back to Remus and beckoned him forward.
Remus eyed the Shrieking Shack warily, still catching his breath. He had only entered it this way once before, on a Hogsmeade weekend to show his friends where he spent his transformations. It had been rather fun then, when he was surrounded by friendly company and the danger of the full moon was weeks off. But now, alone with his fear, the shack loomed ominously. He didn’t wonder why it was easy to keep villagers away, even though he knew for a fact that it wasn’t haunted. But it is, he thought. And I’m the only one that the ghosts harm.
He lingered at the fence a moment longer, hesitant to leave the safety of the outside world. For he knew that once he stepped inside, he would not be able to return without suffering through the madness and the agony. Walking through the door was like walking off a cliff; there was no turning back.
“Remus, it’s time,” Madam Pomfrey prodded.
Remus exhaled angrily. He couldn’t mistake his choice to enter as a choice to transform. There was nothing he could do to stop the transformation from happening; he could only control how he faced it. He drew a sharp breath and strode down the path to the door. Madam Pomfrey placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“Good luck, dear,” she said sympathetically and swung the door open.
Remus stepped inside silently. His heart pounded as the stale, musty scent enveloped him, evoking many terrible memories. The door closed behind him with a click. He was alone.
“Lumos.”
His voice echoed in the empty room. He was disgusted by how weak it sounded. Get a grip, he thought impatiently, and held up his glowing wand. The room was eerily illuminated by his faint light, revealing deep, ragged scratches in the walls and bloodstains soaked into the floor. A violent shiver ran through Remus’s body and he felt both anger and fear well up inside of him. He embraced the anger; it was easier to face the transformation that way. He paced the floor like a caged beast, wallowing in the unfairness of it all. One night, one horrible night years ago that would cost him for the rest of his life. Remus couldn’t bring himself to accept the magnitude of it. Nobody knows, he thought fiercely. Nobody has any idea.
He bitterly thought of the Gryffindor common room which would be alive with laughter that night. Sirius would be showing off, no doubt, hexing other students as they rounded the corner. Everyone would laugh, even his victims, who would be pleased just to be involved. James would be regaling everyone with stories of his Quidditch matches, somehow making them more exciting with every telling. And Peter would have his arms full of stolen custards and cakes, which Sirius would then secretly enchant and give to unsuspecting first years. Normally Remus laughed along with everyone else, admiring his friends, wondering at the popularity that came so easily to them. But picturing the scene now irritated him.
How could James call himself daring when the most dangerous thing he’d ever faced was Quidditch against the Slytherins? Remus scoffed. And Sirius, with his effortless charm and good looks. He had no idea what it was like to be pale, sickly and scarred, doomed to spend his life in isolation of his curse. The injustice clawed at his stomach until he felt completely hollow. He wished he could trade places with them for just one night. Let them face a fear they couldn’t charm their way out of; let them be helpless for once.
Remus lost track of time in his fuming and was surprised to see the sun had already dipped below the horizon. His tenuous shield of anger slipped away and fear swelled in its place. He placed his fingertips on the window and watched the sun intently, his breath ragged. He felt that if he stared hard enough, he could somehow will the sun to stay up. But the last ray of light disappeared beyond the horizon, taking his last hope with it. Remus sank to the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees. His eyes stung with tears that he did not attempt to hold back.
Every month when he woke crumpled and bleeding on the floor, his first thought was, “It’s over. It’s done.” But every month he found himself back at the edge of the cliff, like an impossible recurring nightmare. It would never be over, and the enormity of the word “never” staggered him. No matter how hard he resisted, it made absolutely no difference. He would spend every ounce of strength in his body fighting tonight, but the beast would return again and again, never weakening. A small sob escaped his throat and tears streamed down his face. Of all the things he had lost to the werewolf, nothing had created such a terrible void as his complete and utter helplessness.
Remus laid his head on his knees and let out a long, shaky breath. He took his wand out of his pocket and placed it underneath the broken chair next to him so he wouldn’t damage it in his madness. Something caught his eye in the corner of his blurred vision. He dried his tears on his robe and saw that there was a photograph underneath the chair. He pulled it out by the corner and recognized it immediately. He had brought this photograph with him for his last transformation. It was torn and filthy now, but he could still make out the faces underneath the blood splatters. James, Sirius, Peter and himself grinned up at him, waving and giving him the thumbs up. Remus smiled, completely forgetting his resentment. He wiped the dried blood off and ran his finger over the photo affectionately. He knew his friends would be there for him tomorrow, and that was almost enough to make the night bearable.
A sudden burst of pain exploded in his head. Remus gasped and the photograph fluttered to the floor. His skin burned like it was being stabbed with a thousand hot needles. The pain descended into his muscles like wildfire until it felt as if his whole body was being torn apart. The world spun around him; his blood rushed so loudly through his ears that he could only dimly hear his own screams. The pain in his head was now excruciating. He clutched his elongating face, growling when he felt his claws tear his own skin. A terrible, raw fury flooded his mind, consuming his humanity.
No, please no, not this time, he thought desperately, clinging to his thoughts as they slipped away. I’m Remus, my name is Remus, please don’t forget this time.
But the wild fury destroyed his mind and his final thought disappeared like a lost memory. He no longer recognized the word Remus, nor any words at all. His mind was gone, and only terror, rage and madness remained in its place.
A wretched howl cut through the night air, frightening a young woman passing by on the road. She clutched her cloak tightly around her and hurried away until the ominous shack had disappeared from view. Another agonizing cry floated through the air, farther away this time. The woman stood still, breathing heavily. Tears filled her eyes, though she did not know why.