"Even a man who is pure in heart, and says his prayers at night, may become a wolf when the wolf-bane blooms, and the autumn moon is bright."
A simple bite, thatís all it takes, and youíre cursed forever. A new side of you awakens, coming to life a few times a month under the light of the full moon. It doesnít sound that horrible, but itís worse. And thereís no cure. The curse is forever. You can ease the pain, but you can never take back the part of you the beast gained control of when you received the bite. And deep down, a part of you doesnít want it to stop. A part of you never wants it to stop, once you have tasted death. I have. My name is Remus John Lupin, and Iím a werewolf.
Lycanthropy is my burden.
I received the bite when I was merely six years old. I was too young to take on such a heavy burden. And what a burden it is. No one understands you. No one wants to have anything to do with you. I donít know how long Iíve been sitting here. My thoughts wander to my first transformation. After that I was ill for two weeks, maybe more. I knew something inside me had changed. Something was different. I can feel the moon now, even though itís not night yet. The moon hums to me. I must go. I leave the ones I love and escape to a place where I canít hurt anyone. No one should suffer because of what I am. When I reach the Shrieking Shack, the house named after me, the sun has set, darkness surrounding me. As a child I always feared the dark. That was until I received the bite. After that, the night seemed more welcoming. A feeling of belonging started to grow. And it never stopped. I enter the old house I use to hide from it in. I walk up the creaky old staircase, as so many times before. There was a time when James, Sirius, Peter and I used to come here every month. They accompanied me trough the change and stayed with me all night. Already I can feel a burning sensation inside me as I push the door open, entering my room. Old memories retun to me and my heart starts to race, pounding for every step I take. My eyes searching for a place to hide, but my ears listen for a prey to kill. Fright fills up my heart as I sit down in a corner of the dark room, watching the night come in through the window. I never get used to it. I push myself against the walls in the corner, my head throbbing.
I stare from the bottom of my soul, my body crying out for help. Suddenly an eerie light enters the room through the moth-eaten curtains. I can see the reflection of the moon in the cob-webby chandelier. It found me. I scream out my fright, feeling all my emotions vanish, leaving a cold emptiness with a huge crave for blood. I feel my senses get stronger. My vision gets clearer and my hearing increases as well. All the non-existing smells in the mouldy shack becomes strong scents in my nose as the moon completes my transformation. Now the worst part begins as I feel my fangs and claws painfully replacing my human parts. My skin is torn apart, as well as my soul. My hurting heart pumps out blood to my new limbs. I scream out my pain and my ache, my human voice dying out, being replaced by a howl. The sound cuts through my heart. Inside Iím still screaming. But no one will ever hear my cries. At first Iím confused. I look around, feeling disoriented. A part of me is expecting to see Sirius and James stand there beside me, but they donít. Iím all alone in this, and I should be. It takes a while for me to understand whatís happened. When I do, I scream once more, facing the one that did this to me. I open my mouth, revealing my fangs, and scream out my fury to the moon. But the cold moon doesnít listen. All my human feelings are slowly ebbing out, but a part of me is still aware of what Iím doing. The memories of this night will haunt me tomorrow.
Lycanthropy is my decease.
I start to run on all four out of the shack, leaving the security, leaving me. Tonight Iím not in control anymore. Tonight the werewolf in me will roam, and thereís nothing I can do to prevent it, nor can my friends. Theyíre gone. I must face that now. I watch through the eyes of the beast as he runs over the rolling lawns outside of the village. The moon sits on the sky, watching me. The pain is almost unbearable. My soul is aching, but still I do not stop. My heart pounds as I look up at the sky once more. Feeling like Iím surrounded, I howl out at the millions of stars. A hundred moons or more, coming towards me from every direction. I must flee. I know it all will end eventually. When the night is over, Iím the man I am, the man I was born as, again. But Iím starting to lose the grip. The werewolf is getting stronger, or am I getting weaker? Soon, I donít know where the beast begins and I end. The line between us is blurry. Iíve tried so many times to fix my broken soul, but it is getting harder. It was so much easier when I had my friends to rely on. They helped me through it. Now Iím alone once more with not much left to live for. Soon I cannot hide the wolf in me. But thatís not who I am! I am Remus! I shout out these words to the moon, but only a vicious, threatening roar leaves my mouth. I listen to the echoing sound of my own voice. Was that me? Did I do that sound?
A sudden shiver of fear runs through my still soar body and a collision of feelings ensues. Two minds are trapped in one soul, ripping it apart. Suddenly the wolf stops. A strong, lovely scent enters through my nostrils, replacing my fright with a thrilling feeling. I get that feeling every full moon. As a person Iím very quiet and withdrawn. People always think of me as kind. I would like to think Iím friendly as well, but I also know that behind the manner and kind smile thereís pain and sorrow. That is the only thing I actually like about being a werewolf; the feelings are gone. I donít feel that constant guilt about Harry and that I shouldíve raised him. I donít feel anything, and when I return to my human form again I actually feel slightly better. Itís a way to unburden my mind. I wonít lie, when Lily and James died and I at the same time lost my other two best friends, I completely broke down. Thatís why I couldnít take care of Harry. I was depressed. I stopped taking the wolfs-bane potion and started to transform completely again. I found it easier to deal with the grief then. If only I knew what a mistake that wasÖ
Being a werewolf isnít a blessing. It doesnít make the pain and grief go away. It only neglects it, bottling it up. I cannot go on like this. Soon, I will break. Soon, the werewolf is going to get the best of me. My mind has wandered far now and my gaze has settled on a beetle on the ground. Trying to escape the thoughts of my past, the wolf breaks into a run once more. Suddenly my mouth feels the taste of iron, all my worries and thoughts gone. I try to focus my eyes at what the wolf is running at. Far away I spot a child. The taste in my mouth becomes stronger. Itís blood.
Lycanthropy is me.
The hungry werewolf runs a bit closer. I feel my heat leap as the wolf sneaks up behind the little child. The child canít be more than six years of age. The wolf hunches, growling silently, eyeing the young girl hungrily. I know whatís about to happen. I can feel the moon behind me, watching me, piercing through me with its ghostly light. Amidst the eerie shadows the wolf hides, slowly getting closer to its young prey. The taste of fresh, young blood enters my mouth once more, and I enjoy it. The wolf is right behind her now. The growling sound makes her turn around. Fear strikes her pretty little face, darkening her eyes. I growl once more, threatening her, daring her to try to escape me. Still she just stands there, looking straight into my eyes, the mirrors of my soul. Tears escape from her eyes, still looking at me. I bark at her, showing her my fangs. She gasps and stumbles backwards. All my feelings are gone now and I see nothing but her. Her slender body falls to the ground, sobbing. I stand above her supple little frame, revealing my fangs in a hideous snarl. I aim for her throat. I can see her pulse increasing. Iím just about to rip her throat when her glassy eyes catch my curiosity. For a second I look up and suddenly her eyes becomes my mirror. In her doll-like eyes I see the reflection of a beast in her tears. A hideous murderer; a ruthless killer. In her eyes, I can see the reflection of me.
Refusing to believe what Iím seeing, I raise my paw and scratch her face with my claws.
The girl lets out a heartbreaking scream in agony as I realize what Iíve done. I back away, whimpering like a scared little puppy. I cast one last glance at her before I run away. The last thing I ever saw was the blood in her face mixing with her tears. Raindrops wash over my aching body as I lie on the dusty old floor in the Shrieking Shack. The rain pours down, soaking me. A hole in the roof reveals the pale moon. I close my eyes and let my conscience hurt me more than the transformation does. As my feelings return, the pain washes over me like the wet drops from the sky. The wolf almost killed a child tonight. I almost killed a little girl tonight. I sit up straight and look at my hands.
The claws that hurt her are gone Ö but her blood is still on my hands. I clench my fist and hit it hard against the floorís hard surface; a small cloud of dust whirling up. I canít get the image of the little innocent girl out of my head. The flickering fear in her eyes when she looked at the werewolf; when she looked at me. I understand now. The wolf and I are not two. The wolf is me. It is a part of me. Sighing I stand up, dreading the following night.
No, I didnít kill that girl. Instead I did something much worse. I marked her. I infected her, passing on the curse; lycanthropy. A simple scratch, thatís all it takes, and youíre cursed foreverÖ Thatís a faith worse than death.
A/N: Hello reader. This is my first attempt of a one-shot. I hope you liked it. I would greatly appreciate if you reviewed and told me what you liked or didn't like. I can take criticism. All reivews are welcome, disregarding the content. I would also take this opurtunity to thank Iced_Cherriez for the lovely banner. Thank you for your time! ~ Sam M
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