The Man in the Moon
The wind roared, and howled its frustration at the moon as it beat its fists angrily against the windowpanes of the tiny cottage. Separated from its prey, the tempest roared furiously, rattling the glass in a livid drumming heartbeat. The moon, aged as he was, looked on curiously at the tempestuousness of youth, and sighed as he watched this adolescent display. The young currents whipped themselves into a frenzy these days, and wouldn’t subside until they had hollered out their anger for all to see. Things would be much simpler if they calmed enough to listen to reason, he thought sadly.
Inside the beleaguered little dwelling, a young boy cowered from the rage of the storm. Shivering, he wrapped himself more tightly in his blankets and bit his lip to prevent himself crying out in fear. The glass rattled ominously again, and the boy gave a little whimper, burrowing further into his nest.
Remus had always hated storms; there was something wild and untameable about them, something mad. He shivered, his fists clenching white around his blanket in fear.
Suddenly, a brilliant fork of light ripped the night sky apart; the knife wound of a caesarean section cutting across the pregnant belly of cloud. Lightening sizzled and streaked diagonally across the sky, dazzling the wind into falling silent in awe for a second. It returned with a vengeance in the next, answering to the challenging boom of thunder which rumbled resonantly through the atmosphere.
Remus could take it no longer. Gasping, his breath hitching in fear, the little boy tumbled out of bed, and ran barefoot to the room next to his. Pushing open the bedroom door carefully, he peered inside, suddenly nervous. Another crashing roar of thunder tipped his toes into action, and he darted furtively into the room. Carefully, the little boy watched the slumbering mounds in the double bed, hesitant to wake them.
“Dad?” he murmured softly, laying a quivering hand gently atop the nearest mound. “Daddy?” he questioned again, his hand prodding a little more urgently this time.
A disgruntled snort echoed from within the confines of the duvet. Groggily, his father twitched and murmured, and then seemed to relax back into sleep.
Remus bit his lower lip again, struggling not to cry as yet another flash of lightening pulled the sky apart at the seams.
“Dad?” he whimpered once more. The deep, relaxed breaths of the larger man hitched, and then morphed into a shallower, more alert version.
“Remus?” his father asked. Then, seeming to come suddenly awake, he sat up and groggily peered at his son. “Remus! What are you doing out of bed? What’s the matter?”
The little boy scrunched his face up, desperate not to let the tears fall. Abruptly unable to contain the fear screeching through his limbs, he launched himself into his father’s arms. The older man immediately wrapped them around him, hugging his son close to his chest. Gently wiping his damp hair back from a sticky forehead, he asked again, “What’s the matter, son?”
Remus, trembling, could not force his lips to form the forms. Instead, he raised a trembling arm to the window, where the storm still raged with weapons blazing outside the panes.
“Ah,” murmured his father, understanding dawning. “Come, get into bed with me then.”
Grateful beyond belief, Remus heaved a sigh of relief and snuggled up close to the haven of his parent. The warm blanket settled atop both of them, and Remus felt an answering one settle somewhere within him, where it covered over his fear for the storm, hiding it from view.
John Lupin stroked his son’s hair gently for a few minutes before speaking again.
“Remus, I want to tell you something.”
“Yes?” came his son’s quiet murmur from atop his chest. He smiled as the word caused a little puff of air to bounce across his torso, tickling him.
He raised a hand to point at the moon, hanging suspended in the night’s sky “ the only beacon of light in the black abyss.
“Look at the moon for me now.” When his son did as requested, he continued gently, “Do you see a man sitting there, in the moon?”
“What?” came the dubious response. Remus lifted his head to get a better look, but found only the luminous globe staring back at him.
“I don’t understand,” he said, plaintively. “There’s only the moon there, Dad.”
“Ah, that’s what you think “ that’s what most people think,” answered his father, smiling down at him. “But look closer, Remus. Look really carefully and you’ll see him.”
When his son continued to look highly doubtful, he lifted his hand again.
“Do you see there, at the top, there are two dark circular patches on the moon?” His son nodded, and he smiled. “Those are his eyes.”
“His eyes?” said Remus incredulously.
“See, I told you you’d have to look closely, didn’t I,” he jibed, poking his son teasingly in the stomach.
Remus squirmed, but caught hold of his father’s hand again. “What else?”
John looked at the moon once more. “Well, can you see that diagonal slash going downwards from between the eyes? That’s his nose.” He peered upwards once more. “And there, there at the bottom where that long crater is “ that’s his mouth, right there.”
Remus smiled and sure enough, after staring at the moon very closely, he finally saw the old, little man. He had been there all along, in the cragged and time-wearied craters pitting his face. As Remus stared upwards, a peculiar man looked back.
“I see him, Dad! I see the man.”
“That’s good, Remus, very good.” His father smiled, and stroked his hair once more. “Now, you must always remember that as long as you can see that man in the moon, he’ll always be looking after you. He’s there, standing guard “ and he won’t let anything hurt you.”
Remus looked doubtful. “Really?”
“Well, can you see the man now?” his father questioned back.
“Yes, you know I can! I just told you that.”
His father smiled. “Well then, now that you can see the man in the moon, are you scared of the storm anymore?”
Remus paused, shocked. How could he have forgotten it? For sure enough, now that his father mentioned it he could hear the storm outside once more - raging and screaming and hurling itself violently against the defences of his home. He quickly looked at the moon, and strangely, he found that he wasn’t as scared anymore.
John watched as a brilliant smile crept timidly across his son’s face. “It’s true!”
“Of course it’s true,” his father reassured him. “You think I’d lie to you?”
Remus turned to stare at his father. “You promise then? You promise that the man will always protect me as long as I can see him sitting in the moon. That nothing will hurt me while he’s watching?”
His father kissed him gently on the forehead. “I promise.”
Two years later, the same, but slightly larger, little boy pumped his legs furiously as he ran after the escaping Quaffle.
“Ha! Got it,” Remus cheered triumphantly, holding his prize high. Which a grunt, he drew his arm back as far as he could, and hurled the ball towards Kenny, his next door neighbour.
The other boy made a valiant effort at catching it, but the ball flew flirtatiously past his fingertips, zipping away into the darkness. “Remus!” he pouted. “You’re supposed to throw it towards me “ not aim in a different direction!”
“That would take the fun out of it,” Remus laughed. “Go and get it, then. Mum will be telling us to come in soon.”
As if on queue, a plump, homely looking woman popped her head through the kitchen window.
“Boys,” she warned. “Play time’s over. Come in now, it’s getting very dark.” It was true; the full moon hovered protectively over the little cottage and it’s occupants, as all around it darkness closed in, attempting to steal it’s beautiful silver-white rays.
“Aw, just a minute more, Mum,” Remus pleaded. “Then I promise we’ll come in.”
His mother sighed and shook her head. “I do wish you hadn’t inherited your Grandfather’s talent for puppy-dog eyes, Remus John. Fine,” she declared, putting her hands on her hips. “One more minute “ and then it’s inside and time for bed.”
Remus whooped and pumped the air with his fist. “Come on, Kenny. Make it a good one! Throw it really hard this time “ I want to see how fast I can catch it!”
The other boy obliged, and with a tremendous effort the Quaffle went sailing high up into the air and over Remus’ head, to land with a gentle thump a good distance behind him. There it rolled gently over itself a couple of times, stopping a few metres from a dense patch of trees bordering the Lupin estate.
Remus cheered and pounded over to retrieve it. As he scampered closer, however, he became aware of a tension in the air. The regiment of hairs on the back of his neck gave a bold salute and stood to attention, prickling almost as if someone was watching him. A shiver worked its slimy way from the tips of those proud hairs all the way down to the ends of his toes. His stomach tightened and twisted its way into a double knot, and suddenly Remus felt the world around his scream RUN, RUN NOW, RUN AND DON’T LOOK BACK!
But Remus couldn’t run. He was frozen, immobile as a glass statue, as a pair of yellow, feral eyes locked with his. There was no mercy in those eyes; no pity, nor kindness, nor leniency. They were pure animal; an animal whose only needs were those satisfied by its desire for food, blood and death.
Reacting to the most native instincts known to man, Remus turned, heart pounding in terror, and ran.
He felt rather than saw the pounding of a monstrous body behind him, and imagined the ground upon which he ran being sliced and shredded as paws armed with a whole array of daggers tore viciously into it. He heard the brutish snarl emerging from deep within the monster’s throat, howling for all to hear that it had its prey and soon it would feast. He saw in his mind’s eye that roar charge past rows of vicious, piercing teeth, each one as sharp as a razor blade.
His legs hammered across the ground, arms pumping furiously at his sides… but his speed was no match for such a beast.
He heard the terrified shrieks of his family - saw his mother scream and run desperately towards him, and his father frantically firing spells “ even as a pain beyond anything he had even experienced lanced through his right leg. With a victorious bellow, the wolf fastened its jaws around him, snarling as it bore him to the cold, unrelenting ground.
Remus screamed, the pain from his leg seeming to reach through his body and fasten itself around his vocal cords, using them mercilessly to express its agony. His vision was a mass of snarling teeth, whipping claws and coarse, stringy, matted fur. Yet, though his vision of terror, one image suddenly leaped out at him, jumping down to Earth to comfort him amongst the overwhelming pain; the moon, hanging gracefully suspended amongst the stars, smiled down at him.
His vision seemed to sharpen, drawn to that one image as if by determination alone, holding that picture in his thoughts could cancel out the pain. Remus stared upwards, tears streaming over his battered face. The moon was full tonight, hanging like a Queen up above, surrounded by her ladies in waiting; the stars. It was a beautiful sight, but Remus had no time to admire it. Frantically, he searched the face of the moon, until finally he found him “ and the man in the moon stared back at him.
For one brief moment, joy suffused his body. He would be saved!
“Help me! Help me!” he screamed upwards at the man. “You promised! You promised you’d never let anything hurt me!”
And when no help came - just the continuation of horrific snarling and endless pain, then Remus felt more agony than any physical wound could cause him. As he stared up at the serene face of the moon, he felt those teeth clamp themselves around his heart. The razor blades drove inwards, and as his heart was torn in two, Remus felt that his father was the one driving the animal onwards.
You lied to me.
You broke your promise.
You lied.
Remus stopped screaming; his misery too great to articulate. Only a few more glistening tears tracked their silent path down his cheeks.
“You promised,” he repeated, brokenly, before turning his face away from the glistening silver sight.
And high up above, the man in the moon smiled serenely down at that lost little boy, as his skin was ripped and mauled, and his blood ran crimson across the ground.