“Morning,” he said hoarsely, reaching for the glass of water on his bedside table. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”
“It’s almost lunchtime; I’ve already been to three,” James informed him, tossing his bag onto his bed.
“Perfect,” Remus muttered. He checked his watch and rubbed his forehead with a wince. “I really needed to go to Potions today.”
“It’s all right, Sirius took notes for you. Peter and I decided that if he gets to have the fun tonight, he gets to do the work,” James said with a trace of jealousy in his voice.
“You’ll get to have fun soon enough, too,” Remus reminded him. “Aren’t you even closer than ever now?”
“Well, I did end up with a stripe of fur down my back the other day,” James said, brightening a little.
“See? You’ll be there in no time.”
“I suppose.” James stared at the floor and sighed. “I just always thought we’d do it together, you know? I knew Peter wouldn’t make it as quickly, but I always reckoned Sirius and I would both be there for you the first time. And now I’m going to have to sit it out.”
Remus saw the disappointment on James’s face and felt a wave of sympathy. “I’m sorry, mate. I wish you could be there, too, but it’s just lousy timing. I’m positive you’ll be ready next month.”
James still didn’t look consoled, so Remus added, “Look, I’m just going to end up eating Sirius anyway. At least this way your life will be spared.”
“That’s true,” James said with a small smile. “My Quidditch fans would be devastated.”
Remus laughed. “Why don’t you use tonight to talk to Lily? Maybe you could smooth things over with her.”
James’s face fell back into a glower and he crossed his arms moodily. “Not bloody likely. She won’t even look at me, let alone talk to me, and I’ve had just about enough of trying to get through to her.”
“Because of the fight with the Slytherins?” Remus asked. “Do you want me to talk to her?”
James shook his head. “Don’t bother. I know you’ve tried, but it’s hopeless. It was pretty stupid of me to ask for help, anyway. I should have known she’s just impossible to please. ”
Remus opened his mouth to give James advice, but he didn’t quite know how to phrase what he was thinking. You’d find her much easier to please if you stopped acting like a child and treated her the way she deserves to be treated. Unable to say that out loud, Remus turned over instead and covered his face with his pillow. The light streaming through the windows was beginning to hurt his tired eyes, but also, he wanted to conceal the flicker of hope on his face. Perhaps he’s giving up, he thought. And if he is, what then?
“Enough of her. I’m going to meet Sirius and Peter for lunch,” James said. “You feel up to coming?”
“No, thanks, I’m just going to rest here,” Remus answered. The thought of actually standing up and walking was too daunting, even for food.
“All right, the Potions notes are in my bag if you insist on studying. See you.”
After the sound of James’s footsteps left the room, Remus sighed and turned over once more in a vain attempt to find a comfortable position for his aching limbs. It was no use; he felt as though he’d been hit by a blunt stick all over and he knew it would only get worse as the day went on. Wishing for something else to occupy his mind, he retrieved his wand from his bedside table and pointed it across the room.
“Accio bag!”
Upon its arrival, Remus dug inside for Sirius’s notes, but the first parchment he pulled out appeared to be James’s Charms notes. Remus scanned them to see what he’d missed, but after the date and the name of the charm, all he found were several games of Hangman and a sketch of a dung beetle with Severus’s face. Remus was about to toss the parchment aside when he noticed a solid, dark scribble in the bottom corner. Curious, he held it up to the light and squinted to see if there was something underneath that James had crossed out. Turning the paper slowly, Remus finally made out the imprint of a drawing. It was faint, but he recognized who it was at once. James had captured the shape of Lily’s eyes, the fall of her hair, the curve of her neck, as if he had been studying her face for years and knew its every nuance.
Remus put the parchment down slowly. James hadn’t given up on her, and he never would, no matter how long it took him to win her. It was naive to have thought otherwise. He pushed the bag aside, no longer in the mood to study, and closed his eyes. After a long while, sleep returned to silence the racing thoughts in his mind.
“I can’t believe you’re actually going with Remus tonight!” Peter said, his eyes shining enviously. “Are you nervous?”
“Nervous? Why would I be?” Sirius smirked. “Remus is my friend; he’d never hurt me.”
Remus lifted his head from his Potions textbook and cast a warning look at Sirius. “Don’t get cocky. The wolf isn’t your friend.”
“Oh, he will be, once I show him I speak his language.” Sirius threw his head back and howled at the ceiling, much to Peter’s delight. James rolled his eyes with a faint smile, and then turned back to the star chart he’d been completing. He’d been quiet ever since he’d returned to the dorm with the others after their last class.
“Well, Remus, how about it? When can we go?” Sirius asked for at least the fourth time that day.
Remus smiled at his enthusiasm; it was nice to have someone actually look forward to his transformation. “I know you’re excited, but it’s still early,” he said. “I’d rather wait here than in the shack.”
“But I’m bored,” Sirius complained. “Tell him, James.”
“Remus, please take him now,” James said dutifully without looking up from his homework.
Remus closed his textbook and sat upright, grimacing at the effort. “Well, Sirius, if you’re bored, let’s go over the rules again.”
Sirius rolled his eyes and groaned, “We’ve already been over them a million times.”
“We all know them by now,” Peter added.
“Just once more, as a reminder,” said Remus. “Please, Sirius, I don’t want to put you in any danger tonight.”
Sirius sighed resignedly and droned, “Rule number one, no one sees me from the time I leave this room until I come back tomorrow.”
Remus nodded emphatically. If they were caught going to the Whomping Willow together, they’d both be expelled on the spot, no questions asked. Luckily, Sirius had both James’s invisibility cloak and his Animagus form to disguise himself, but the risk was still great enough that Remus felt the need for caution.
“Rule number two…” Sirius paused. “I don’t like this one.”
“Rule number two,” Remus repeated firmly, “if I end up hurting you?”
Sirius pulled a face at the affront to his pride. "Then I Apparate out of the shack, taunt you through the windows, and run to safety."
"You're sure you know how to Apparate?" Remus persisted. "Even under pressure?"
"Of course, I learned how when I was thirteen," Sirius said dismissively.
Peter shook his head in awe. "If you already know every spell, why do you even bother with classes?" he asked.
Sirius shrugged. "Girls, mostly."
“Of course,” Remus laughed. “And rule number three?”
“I get furry the instant the sun sets and I don’t go human again until sunrise, even for a second, even if your back is turned, even if I’m in no danger whatsoever, even if I just want to pet your tail and there’s no way you’d be fast enough to bite me”“
“Sirius!” Remus shouted, rapidly feeling all control of the situation slipping through his hands.
“What? I’m telling you I’m not going to turn human.”
Remus frowned; he knew that Sirius was only showing off, but he had yet to show any appreciation for the danger he was about to be in. Remus didn’t think Sirius’s reckless streak had ever encountered anything like a werewolf before and he was beginning to worry that he would prove too much for him. He was hesitant to press the matter any further, though; already he was afraid what Sirius must think of all his years of effort being rewarded with nagging.
“Well, that’s it, then. We’re really going to do this, aren’t we?” Remus grinned, allowing the excitement to grow inside of him again.
“Absolutely; you’ve waited long enough for us to be ready. Let’s head out!” Sirius exclaimed and pulled the invisibility cloak out of James’s trunk.
Remus checked the clock on the wall. “But it’s not even time for dinner yet.”
“I’ve packed food,” Sirius said, slipping the silvery cloak over his head and disappearing beneath its folds. “Anyway, how can you expect me to sit still in the Great Hall right now? Let’s go, I don’t want to wait anymore.”
“I think the dog has spoken,” James spoke up. Remus glanced at him quickly, but was relieved to see that he wore a genuine, if wistful, smile.
“All right, Sirius, you win,” Remus said. He rose carefully out of bed and stretched his painful joints. Sirius’s disembodied voice gave a whoop of triumph somewhere in front of him.
“Good luck tonight, both of you,” James said. “And be careful.”
Peter nodded fervently. “Tell us everything tomorrow!”
“Thanks, we will,” Remus promised and staggered out the dorm, Sirius following silently behind him.
The common room was filled with people who had just finished their own classes. Remus quickly plotted the most open path to the door and followed it, taking care to avoid eye contact with anyone who might come say hello and trip into Sirius. He had almost made it out the door when one voice distracted him from his goal.
“Hi, Remus!” Lily called from the couch. “Did you sleep through class again?”
Remus turned around and then cursed himself for not just pretending he didn’t hear her. Sirius poked him in the ribs impatiently.
“Hi, Lily,” he stammered. “Sorry, but I have to go.”
Lily looked confused but nodded, her eyes a bit more suspicious than Remus was comfortable with. Telling himself he was just being paranoid, Remus left the room through the portrait hole, making sure to hold it open slightly longer for Sirius to pass through. Luckily, the halls were much emptier and they were able to reach the Hospital Wing without anyone exclaiming about running into an invisible form.
“Now keep close and stay quiet!” Remus breathed almost inaudibly. He stepped inside the door, scanned the seemingly empty room, and eventually found Madam Pomfrey in the supply room.
“Hello, Madam,” he said.
“Goodness, you startled me!” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, dropping the bandages she was folding. She peered curiously through her glasses at Remus. “You’re early. You’re never early.”
Remus shrugged weakly and made a show of leaning an unsteady arm against the wall for support. “I think I’d rather make the trip now before I feel any worse,” he said and cleared his throat with a fragile cough.
Madam Pomfrey leaned in and examined Remus’s face closely. “You don’t look well,” she declared. “You’re flushed. Lie down; I’ll have a look at you.”
“No!” Remus said quickly. “I mean, no thank you. I’ll be fine, Madam; I’d just rather not put the trip off. You know, no sense delaying the inevitable.”
Madam Pomfrey looked as if she were about to argue, but her face softened and she relented, “All right, come along.”
She took Remus’s elbow and led him to the back of the room where the secret passageway to the outside lay. After a few precise taps of her wand on the wall, Madam Pomfrey pushed open the newly-revealed door and guided Remus through it first. Trying to conceal his panic, Remus watched Madam Pomfrey step outside behind him and close the door. He’d intended to go through after her so he could hold the door for Sirius. Had she left him enough time? Remus wasn’t sure, and he had no way to find out.
Outside, the sun shone brightly, though fall had brought a crispness to the air and colour to the leaves. Around the corner, Remus heard the laughter of students in the courtyard, enjoying the last of the good weather. Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips.
“It’s too busy outside this time of day,” she muttered and promptly tapped her wand on Remus’s head. Remus shuddered as the cold sensation of the Disillusionment charm spread down his body. Madam Pomfrey disappeared likewise beside him, and Remus was struck with a new concern. If Sirius had fallen behind, would he be able to find them now? Their plan suddenly seemed a lot more fallible than it had before.
Madam Pomfrey took Remus’s arm once more and led him across the grassy field to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, keeping a watch for observers on the way. Remus strained his ears for the sound of Sirius’s footsteps following them, but he heard nothing. He hoped that was just a credit to Sirius’s stealth and not a sign that he had been separated.
When they reached the Whomping Willow, Madam Pomfrey chanted “Premo,” sending a spark of light from her wand to the base of the trunk. A second later, the immense branches froze mid-sway.
“Good luck, dear,” Madam Pomfrey said, releasing Remus’s arm.
Remus hazarded one quick look behind him for any sign of Sirius, though he didn’t know what exactly he was looking for. Nothing indicated that he and Madam Pomfrey weren’t completely alone, though, so Remus walked forth into the roots before his hesitation began to look suspicious. Once he’d slipped inside, Remus lifted his Disillusionment charm as Madam Pomfrey had taught him.
“Sirius?” he whispered. A heavy nudge on the leg answered him, followed by a short bark. Remus let out a sigh of relief and reached in front of him, lifting the invisibility cloak off of his friend’s shaggy back.
“I didn’t hear you at all!” Remus exclaimed. “I was afraid you got left behind!”
The dog lifted his chin rather haughtily, a pose that remained even after he rose into human form. “I was right behind you every step,” Sirius bragged. “Padded feet work wonders, don’t they?”
“Yes, they do, and you’re going to get into a lot of trouble with them,” Remus grinned. “Come on, Padfoot. Wand out.”
They each illuminated their wands and started off down the narrow tunnel, hunched over, until Sirius grew tired of crouching and transformed again. He trotted comfortably behind Remus, who carried both wands in front of him. The additional light made the tunnel look different; softer, less foreboding. Remus had managed to forget the actual transformation and was looking forward to the evening until they finally reached the rough, wooden door. The solid familiarity of it flattened his excitement, reviving the dread of every past journey to this point.
“About time!” Sirius said cheerfully after transforming and taking his wand back. “Come on, I can’t wait to see what you’ve done with the place.”
Sirius pushed the door open, releasing a waft of musty air that spilled into the corridor. Remus followed him inside the shack, watching Sirius’s expression as he took in the broken furniture, the gouged floors, the shredded, bloodstained walls.
“Creepy,” Sirius declared, touching a finger to one particularly deep scratch with fur matted into it.
“Yeah, I know,” Remus said, suddenly embarrassed. The wreckage looked worse to him now that it was being seen through someone else’s eyes. He had a brief impulse to tidy up, or at least to defend himself. This wasn’t me. I wouldn’t have done this.
Sirius didn’t seem to mind the destruction, though. He pointed his wand at a pile of rubble in the corner, forming two chairs from the broken lumber. Sitting down on one, he pulled a bottle of firewhisky from his pocket and tossed it to Remus.
“Cheers!” Sirius said with a wink as Remus caught the bottle. “I thought we should celebrate properly.”
“I should have known,” Remus smiled. He opened the bottle, sniffed the contents and winced.
“Don’t smell it; drink it,” Sirius ordered. Remus pulled a face and took a sip, trying not to cough. He’d never acquired a taste for firewhisky. Though Sirius raved about the smoothness of Ogden’s Old over other brands, it all tasted like bubotuber pus to him. He forced down another swallow and handed the bottle back to Sirius.
“You’ll still be able to transform, won’t you?” Remus cautioned him.
“Has it ever stopped me before?” Sirius countered, taking a long swig. Remus had to admit that Sirius’s magical abilities had not yet been impaired by drinking. Though his judgment in which spells to use and on whom to use them hadn’t always been sound, he’d always executed them marvellously.
Sirius threw his head back for another drink while Remus sank down onto the chair beside him, shivering pleasantly as a wave of warmth coursed from his stomach throughout his body, dulling the ache in his muscles. He took another sip when Sirius offered the bottle, wincing only a little, and closed his heavy eyelids. His head had begun to spin and he felt as if he were melting into his chair. It would be so easy to sleep, so easy…
“Hey!” Sirius protested. “It’s going to be a long, boring night if I have to spend it with a sleeping werewolf.”
“Trust me, I’ll wake up at moonrise,” Remus grunted and rubbed his temples. He heard Sirius make an impatient noise and rustle in his cloak, and then he felt something being placed on his knee. Opening one eye, he looked down and saw a raspberry scone.
“All right, I can be bribed,” Remus smiled and opened the other eye. “I’ll stay awake as long as you feed me.”
He took a hungry bite of the scone while Sirius produced the rest of the picnic, chicken sandwiches, apples, fairy cakes, a flask of pumpkin juice and an assortment of sweets.
“Wow, you came prepared,” Remus said and polished off the rest of his scone.
“It’s a momentous occasion, isn’t it?”
Remus nodded, his mouth full, and reached for the pumpkin juice. Sirius bit into a sandwich, staring thoughtfully downward at the scratched wood beneath his feet.
“You know, I’ve always wondered…” Sirius hesitated and eyed Remus cautiously before plunging forth. “How did you get bitten? You’ve never told us the story before. I always assumed you didn’t want to talk about it, but, well, while we’re here…”
Sirius gestured vaguely to the shack, looking both apologetic and curious. Remus exhaled deeply. He was actually surprised that none of his friends had asked him before, but now that the question was posed, he didn’t particularly want to answer. It wasn’t a memory he enjoyed reliving, but Sirius was right; it was time.
“I was seven,” he began slowly, “and my parents were fighting again. They always fought about my dad’s job back then. I remember my mum yelling at him about putting the family in danger and my dad telling her she was over-reacting. I don’t remember the details since I didn’t much care what they were fighting about. I just wanted to get away from it, so I went outside. Neither of them noticed.
“I was playing in the yard when I saw this man walk up to the front of our house. I’d never seen anyone like him before. He was huge, wild-looking, with this long, matted hair and sunken, yellow eyes. And he was staring directly at me… like he’d been waiting for me. I could have turned back so easily and gone inside. I see it over and over in my mind, and it seems so perfectly clear now.” Remus shook his head bitterly, the familiar resentment creeping back. “I was only seven and there was a terrifying man in front of my house. I should have run, screamed, or at the very least walked two steps inside and shut the door! But I was young. I’d never met an unfriendly person in my life. And I sure as hell didn’t want to go back inside where my parents were fighting.”
Remus paused and drank from the whisky bottle again, though he was already feeling more than tipsy.
“He walked up closer to me, very slowly. I was just beginning to get scared enough to leave when suddenly he was right above me. I opened my mouth to ask him his name, but nothing came out. That’s when the first light of the moon shone over the horizon. He stared into it and then looked back at me with a horrible grin, showing long, yellow fangs. And he said in this awful, raspy voice, ‘What do you know of darkness, boy?’
Sirius looked stricken. “He did it on purpose?” he whispered disbelievingly.
Remus gave a short nod and continued, “When he transformed, I was too terrified to run. I couldn’t move a single muscle, not even to breathe. I’d never seen anything so horrifying. And then he attacked. He leapt on top of me, pinning me to the ground…”
Remus’s mouth dried as he recalled the next terrible moments. He didn’t know how to put it into words, the terror of being prey, the violation of the wolf’s hot, rancid breath on his skin, the excruciating pain. He had heard people describe their own severe injuries, saying that it happened too fast or that they were too shocked to feel anything but cold. Remus, however, had felt every claw tear his skin, every fang sink into his flesh and rip it open, even the crunch of tooth on bone. He felt it all, and still felt it when he closed his eyes and allowed the memory to haunt him.
“He bit me,” Remus said unsteadily after a moment, “several times. Mostly my arms and legs as I tried to fight him off. If he’d bitten my neck, I would have surely died. But my parents heard my screams and ran outside immediately, saving me from the worst. My dad attempted the killing curse on the werewolf, but it just injured him enough to make him run away. My mum was frantic. She tried calling for an ambulance, but my dad hung up the phone and Apparated us all to St. Mungo’s. I don’t remember much after that; I passed out somewhere along the way from blood loss. The next thing I knew I was waking up in a strange bed, covered in bandages, and my mum was standing over me, weeping her eyes out. She kept moaning the same thing again and again, ‘His life is over. His life is over.’”
Remus shook his head and couldn’t help but laugh. “Hell of a thing to say in front of a seven year old, isn’t it? I really don’t think she could have scared me any more. It was hard… on top of everything else, realizing that I couldn’t count on my mum anymore. I knew she’d never be strong for me when I needed her.”
Sirius nodded slowly, his eyes glazed over with dark understanding. Remus knew he was all too familiar with parents failing him from a young age as well. They sat in tense silence for a moment until Remus couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Enough of that!” he said loudly, startling Sirius into the present. “It’s getting far too morose in here. You promised this would be fun, remember?”
Sirius smiled tentatively. “Sorry, mate. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“It’s all right,” Remus shrugged resignedly. “It was a long time ago. Everyone’s got problems; mine’s just furrier than most.”
Sirius laughed at this, as did Remus, relieved to break the tension. Helping himself to a cake, Remus glanced outside and was surprised to see the sun already dipping close to the horizon. He smiled despite himself; even reliving his worst memory, Sirius’s company had made this time far less lonely and frightening.
“Get ready,” Remus said, nodding toward the window. “It’s almost time.”
“I’ve been ready all night,” Sirius grinned, transforming quickly into a dog and back again to prove it. Then, more seriously, he added, “Is there anything I should do when it happens? Any way that I can help you?”
“Not really,” said Remus, although he had already thought of something. He felt rather foolish saying it out loud, but he knew he could trust Sirius not to laugh. “But just this time, do you think, maybe… you could not watch?”
Another memory had just surfaced in his mind, one he hadn’t thought of in a long time. He was eight years old, bound in chains in his cramped, musty garden shed, watching the fading sunlight stream in through a gap in the window. Then through that same gap, a pair of eyes had slid into view. He’d recognized them at once as his neighbour’s, a coarse, critical woman with a large mouth. A second pair of eyes had soon followed; her loathsome friend who loved a scandal almost as much as she did. They both stared with revulsion at Remus, at his chains and scars, while trading excited glances with each other. Remus had hung his head, too confused to cry. He hadn’t understood why, even after it was clear that he had seen them, they continued to stare at him, unabashed, as if he were nothing but an animal in a cage. He hadn’t understood why they didn’t even bother to conceal their morbid glee from him. A human, he had thought, deserved that much.
Luckily, Sirius agreed without asking for an explanation. Remus felt a rush of gratitude; he knew that Sirius had been especially curious about the transformation itself and that to give it up so easily, he must have sensed Remus’s anxiety. Together, they watched in silence as the sun disappeared behind the horizon and behind them, out of view, the first rays of the moon began to emerge.
“Any moment now,” Remus said needlessly.
Sirius nodded and transformed without further prompting. He pushed his furry head against Remus’s hand and gave it a quick lick before settling into the corner of the room, face to the wall, his tail thumping nervously on the ground.
One tense minute later, a thunderbolt of pain descended upon Remus. Even after so many years, the intensity always came as a shock. He cried out and clutched his head, feeling as if it might burst. Distantly, he heard a soft whine come from the corner and he clenched his teeth together to keep from screaming. Sirius wouldn’t see the horror of the transformation and Remus was determined not to let him hear it, either. For a while he managed to keep silent through the burning agony until he felt every limb tear apart and lengthen at once. Remus could not fight it any longer; the scream that had built up finally escaped and he forgot why he had suppressed it in the first place. The madness had taken over his thoughts, obscuring everything he knew except the pain.
After a whirl of confusion, the dark fog lifted, leaving his mind clear at last. Though his skin still prickled painfully under his bristling fur, he knew that the worst of the Awakening was complete. Now he had to face the real torment, the cruel night spent alone in this hollow, echoing cage. He growled with mad fury at the walls enclosing him. What force was it that ripped him from his dreamless sleep, only to trap him in this horrible prison, so desperately alone? Though he couldn’t remember a time he wasn’t bound inside, he knew to the core of his being that he belonged under the moon. The scant beams of light that travelled across the floor every night served only to torment him. He threw back his head and howled with the rage of separation.
A glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye shocked the wolf. A dog was cowering in the corner of the room, its tail hung low but its eyes daring to stare directly into his. The wolf instantly bristled and let out a warning growl, concealing his shock with an aggressive front. Where had this animal come from? Never in all his time in this place could he remember an intruder. Continuing to growl, he paced forward and sized up his foe. It was certainly larger than him, though it lacked fierceness. He felt confident that he could dominate it. The very moment he decided that, he sprung forward onto the dog without warning and latched his teeth around its neck.
The dog yelped in pain, a sound of weakness that the wolf savoured. He’d longed for the taste of another’s blood in his mouth, for the feel of flesh yielding under his teeth, almost as much as he’d longed for the moonlight. He clenched his jaws harder, hoping to elicit more satisfying whimpers from the dog. Yet to his surprise, he found himself hurled backwards onto the ground by a forceful shake. He picked himself up and lunged again, but this time the dog was ready and met him with snapping jaws of its own. They each locked onto each other, grinding teeth against thick fur, until the dog pushed the wolf away roughly with its heavy paws. The wolf fell to the ground, panting, and braced himself for an attack from above, yet the dog only stepped backwards, wagging its tail.
The wolf righted itself and growled lowly, his hackles raised. He was perplexed by the dog’s behaviour, and for some reason it enraged him more than predictable aggression would have. He sank low onto his haunches, loading his powerful leg muscles, and then leapt forward, aiming his fangs for the dog’s throat. But before he could land his killing blow, the dog sidestepped the onslaught and brought his foreleg down bluntly onto the wolf’s nose. Furious, his eyes tearing from the blow, the wolf bared his fangs and let out an ear-splitting howl as the dog pranced away across the room.
For what felt like hours, the wolf continued launching attacks which the dog defended against but did not escalate. Though initially frustrated at being unable to make the kill, the wolf derived satisfaction from the challenge. Every blow he landed, every bite of flesh in his mouth fulfilled his savage hunger. Even the wounds he received from the dog were almost gratifying, coming from a true battle and not his own solitary madness.
At last, when the wolf had expended his last bit of strength, he took one step backwards and then sank onto the floor. He didn’t fear being attacked while he was down; the dog had had plenty of opportunities to go on the offensive but had never taken them. But still, he was relieved to see his opponent limp to the corner and collapse as well. For a long time they lay there, panting heavily, eyes never leaving each other.
Eventually, the wolf’s energy returned, and with it, his thirst to fight. He staggered to his feet, snarling, and witnessed with pleasure the fear that passed through the exhausted dog’s eyes. With renewed strength, the wolf bounded across the room and descended upon his quarry, who had not recovered as quickly and suffered for it. The increasingly one-sided battle raged as the moon travelled its arcing path, only ending when the sky began to glow in the east.
A pained howl gave way to a human cry, and Remus collapsed heavily to the floor. With a low whine, his former prey swayed on bleeding feet and crumpled beside him. While Remus moaned, his mind awakening to the world around him, the dog heaved one long, shuddering sigh and then lay very still.