A/N; I do not own anything you recognise.
Chapter One – The Darkness of the Night
***
I never thought I’d be lucky enough as to have friends to help me go through all this. Of course, to them, it’s more like a way to have fun, to defy authority. A group of teenagers sneaking out to spend the whole night running around illicitly without getting caught; learning untaught magic, illegally achieving high levels of transfiguration, and keeping it a secret. But even though it may look like they’re only in for the fun ride, I feel that there’s some solidarity under all this and I truly think they don’t quite fully understand what it all means to me.
***
Remus Lupin was once again walking the length of the passageway leading to the Shrieking Shack. This walk was always an interesting one. He knew all too well what was awaiting him at the end; that wooden cage that would hold him prisoner until he would become human again. Because that was all it was; a cage. It was just a way to isolate him from others, so that he wouldn’t hurt them. But it didn’t prevent him from hurting himself. At least not until the other Marauders joined him.
Remus always took his time to walk up to his house of torture. Who, after all, would run to a painful transformation and hours of self destruction?
Oh yes, Remus knew very well what was ahead of him. Yet, there was no way he could escape or even delay it. It was like walking to the guillotine… once a month.
The only comforting thought was that he knew his three best friends would come and join him later on. It would somehow distract his animal mind enough so that he’d stop gnawing his own limbs for a few hours. And when they were there, the cage seemed larger, and its prisoner felt that he wasn’t alone anymore.
A quarter of an hour later, Remus had reached his cell. He looked around him to see the usual boarded windows and doors, the torn apart furniture, and the walls that bore scratches all over them. He could smell decay, dust, and his own dried up blood from previous months. Fresh cuts would pour some more of the crimson liquid soon enough.
He walked up to a window and looked outside through a small gap between two planks of wood. Night was coming quickly; the sky was of a deep blue colour and the remaining light on the surroundings was greyish, making the snow appear even whiter than it was. The shadows were taking over the daylight once more.
Remus tore his eyes away from the outside world and went back into the big room. He didn’t bother to put up candles, or light lamps; he would only risk setting fire to the place later on if he did. Setting aside his school robes and his bag, he then sat down on the floor against one of the walls, with his knees to his chest, and waited. There was nothing more he could do, but wait for his doom.
He knew it was getting close once he noticed that his breathing was faster. He was now old enough that he knew the routine all too well, but even with that, the pain seemed to be different each time. It started with subtlety most of the time, but soon, much too soon, escalated amazingly fast into a cacophony of sickening sensations.
The teenager let himself topple onto his side as he was beginning to gag. It was literally making him sick from time to time. Tonight, the first real feeling of pain came from his hands and feet. It was like somebody had taken a knife and was cutting each toe and finger open lengthwise.
Remus closed his eyes as hard as he could; he knew he had only a few more seconds of sanity before the werewolf would take over his brain and he hated to see his body change. He felt on the back of his neck, and all along his spine, like each vertebra was pulled apart and dislocated. His skin was being punctured by countless needles as hair grew all over his body.
And then, he was Remus no more.
It was pitch black outside; only the bright shining moon illuminated the pure winter scenery. To the rest of the world, it would be a perfect night; fresh, invigorating, beautiful, inspiring. Only those who would pass by the Shrieking Shack would hear the ‘ghosts’ growling within its walls. The outside world was stunning. But inside, there was a blood-driven, possessed, and powerful animal. It was ready to eat. It was ready to bite. It wanted to feel warm blood gush in its mouth. It was getting only one night a month and it was determined not to waste it.
The werewolf was throwing itself at the walls, scratching with all its might, trying to find a way out of its cage. It would then turn in circles in the middle of the room a few times, mustering its energy, to next jump at the walls once more. The minutes passed slowly, but then the werewolf stopped and sniffed the air. There was no mistaking this glorious odour; it was blood.
Tracing the smell, the beast sunk its teeth violently around the injury. Its tongue enjoying the long awaited treat, it bit a little deeper into the flesh. Only this time, it let out a howl. It was chewing on its own paw. It was hurting… but then again, it was blood and fresh flesh. Its primal instinct made it go for the bite once again.
A few moments later, the trap door on the floor opened. The werewolf, quick as a flash, rose up on all fours and growled at the intruders. It was ready to jump, to attack. But the bear-like dog didn’t scare away, neither did the antler. Only did the rat keep hiding behind the others.
***
Hours later, a heavy silence filled the Shrieking Shack. The only thing disturbing the seemingly peaceful morning was the slight panting of a broken down teenager curled in a ball on the floor. He was bruised and stained with both dried up and fresh blood. The first rays of the sun sneaked their way into the room, dodging the planks boarding the windows. The moon had disappeared, leaving behind Remus.
Sirius, James and Peter had had to leave before sunrise in order to sneak back into their dormitories unnoticed, and had left behind the still menacing werewolf. Left without the good influence from the other animals, the werewolf took the opportunity to try to escape and bite a few more times, before finally relinquishing its power over to the human hidden within it as the day crept by. It had left Remus on the floor, still unable to move from the pain of his injuries and from the transformation back to his human form.
A quarter of an hour later, he managed to summon enough strength to sit, wincing at every movement. He slowly looked at each of his limbs and at his torso, evaluating his injuries. Every move he made hurt him, but he knew he would have to bear it until he reached the school and Madam Pomfrey. He next stood up shakily and walked, careful not to move more than was absolutely necessary, to the other room where he picked up his school robes and his bag. He slowly opened it and took out some clothes and rags. He used the rags to wipe some of the blood, then dressed, the fabric of the clothes irritating his already stinging injuries.
He finally bundled his school robes and stuffed them into his bag. He fastened it and took it in his hand, as his shoulders were too sore to support its strap. He then stood still for a moment, breathing slowly and trying to calm the pain. The walk back to the castle would be a long one today.