Remus J. Lupin

Continuing from here.

Time seems to slow as Remus sits in his corner of the corridor, knees drawn up. He has been there for a few minutes now, and McGonagall has already approached him to see how he is since she had stepped out for a moment with Sprout. Upon seeing the blood on him he was urged to get up and walk into the infirmary as well, but Remus just shook his head and refused to move from where he was. Cedric needed Poppy more than he did, didn't she realize that? And not only that, but he knew well enough his appearance would get Harry worried as well, so for now he'd wait here.

When the corridor is empty again, Remus turns to look at his hands and just stares at them blankly for a moment. There's no longer blood on them, because Minerva had insisted on at least helping with that, but even if he can now just see the bruised knuckles he can still feel the blood there. His own and Fenrir's mixed together. Or was it really just the same blood? he thinks bitterly, hearing Fenrir's laugh so clearly that he shudders despite how hard he tries not to.

It's still a little surreal to think about himself physically fighting, and Fenrir of all people, but as numb as he may feel about it he doesn't regret it. He would do it again if he had to. In fact, he would try to hurt Fenrir worse because now that he's left alone with his thoughts he can continue hearing him and his taunts.

Raking his fingers through his disheveled hair, Remus sighs under his breath and closes his eyes. His head is pounding from getting slammed on the floor so hard, but it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that he's still bleeding wherever Fenrir dug his nails into his skin along his arms and abdomen. It doesn't matter that his shoulder is still bleeding from the bite he had received there as well. His mind is more concentrated on the cut on the inside of his lip, because it hasn't stopped bleeding either and even if he hates to admit it...that taste of blood is enough to calm him down.

It's not enough to ease away the worry he feels, however, because he keeps thinking about Cedric and how the house smelled of blood. He keeps thinking of Harry and Luna, and how the three of them are far too young to be fighting in this. And, as his thumb toys with his ring, he thinks of Sirius and of where he could be. The thought that something could have happened to him is enough to make him nauseous as his stomach twists, but Remus just takes a slow deep breath.

Turning back towards the door leading to the infirmary, Remus leans his head back against the wall and just continues waiting. For now there's really nothing else that he can do.

I have been trying to find the right way to answer this, but whatever I write just seems so...inadequate and doesn't seem to answer the question properly. So, for that, I thought of this way instead:

When do I know it's love?

When he looks at me and never judges me because of what I am, and what I become.

When I can trust him without a second thought.

When he smiles.

When he smiles, and I can't help but smile back no matter how cross I want to be at him.

When he smiles, and I feel so happy that it sometimes feels as if my heart will burst.

When a pair of puppy eyes can be enough reason for me to give in at times.

When a pair of puppy eyes can be enough reason for anything, period.

When that barking laugh makes me laugh along.

When he takes my hand and, no matter how I may be feeling, I feel safer than I could have ever felt just because he's near me.

When one look of his can say more than any amount of words ever can.

When 'always' truly means just that.

When I would give my life so he can be well and happy.

Or, simply put... When I look at him and know that I can never in my life love a man as deeply and as strongly as I love him.


word count: 238

Walking along the grounds at Hogwarts had become part of his nightly routine in the years that he had spent working there. It was during this time that he reflected on what happened throughout the day, when he would let his mind wander and roam freely...

There was also one spot where he always paused, at least for a few minutes, and where his thoughts would usually come to a halt only so old ones could make their way out of their hiding spaces. That spot was where the Whomping Willow was planted, and he was reminded about that particular night that he had to 'look forward to' every month. During his nightly walks it would be easy to find another route, try to find a way to avoid the tree altogether, but there was really no point doing so. The moon was his reminder, which would always follow him no matter how hard he could try to avoid it.

Remus stole a quick glance up at the moon, which was slowly getting full, before turning back towards the tree ahead of him. Its large shadow swayed freely along with the cool night breeze, and he couldn't help but smile slightly as realized that, although so many years had passed already since he had been a student himself, some things really had stayed the same. Like the fact that this tree was still his passageway so that he could transform safely in the Shrieking Shack. Now that the Wolfsbane Potion had been invented the transformations were much easier, and far less painful than how they had once been, but Remus would always leave the castle just to be safe.

But it was still a couple of weeks until that night, he reminded himself as he forced himself to turn around so he could continue his walk. For now he could continue enjoying the night just like everyone else did and continue thinking about what he would teach the next day, about the essays he still needed to grade, about... Well, normal things.

He would never be able to ignore the fact that he was a werewolf, but he couldn't let one night ruin all the rest.

Remus Lupin
Harry Potter
Word Count: 364