blue brought melancholy
so infinite she filled the skies
full of hopes she'd never achieve
the seas swimming, waves colliding
against her soul. and they never saw
the shadows that lingered, waiting,
smiles fading into darkness
slowly, she said. slow enough,
and they'll never notice
the heart that was quietly
stopping.
You alright, mate?" Sirius whispered, leaning in so close he accidentally brushed up to Remus's shoulder. Sirius felt a sudden surge in nerves, and he backed off, cursing at himself.
Madame Pomfrey wasn't far ahead. Remus just shrugged, motioning for the three boys to get away from him before they were discovered. He couldn't risk Madame Pomfrey knowing about the other Marauders just behind him, much less the fact that they were all illegal Animagi.
Even if he could answer, he would've chosen to remain silent. He was not okay, the hairs on his neck pricking whenever he got into close proximity with another living creature. His heart had nearly gone into tachycardia when he'd heard Sirius's quiet voice in his ear. He was not okay, knowing that in a few hours, he'd be howling at the moon viciously, any resemblance to his human self lost.
The moon was beginning to make an appearance over the clouds, and he quickened his pace, furiously ignoring the aches in his muscles, exhaustion threatening to swallow him whole. He hugged, feeling beads of sweat gather on his forehead despite the crisp night air.
He wished more than anything to be given a break from his horrible affliction, begged the universe for a break. When he was younger, he'd do his chores, save kitties off busy roads, anything to show the universe he was trying to fix whatever he'd done to deserve being a werewolf.
I'm sorry, he'd whisper, staring at the crescent silhouette that hung eerily in the black night. Please, please, please.
But his efforts were in vain, his cries for mercy met with silence, the sinister fates curling their lip at such a pitiful creature. The shadows laughed, taunting him with hope every once in a while. A new cure at St. Mungo's would feel hopeful, clear up some symptoms before the night, but make him tear at himself with more fervor, the potion angering the wolf within.
Slowly, his hopefulness disintegrated, as the Lupins were left poorer than before, smiling through one disappointment after another. Lyall desperately wanted to cure his son of the affliction he'd caused, chuckling bitterly at the bills sent afterward. It was the price his son had to pay for his discrimination.
Remus had never blamed his father for the incident. He did, however, often dream of a life where Lyall hadn't said those horrible words. It made him feel better that somewhere in the universe, there was a happy Remus who didn't have to live in discomfort. He let his eyes close for a brief minute, relishing the fact that in another world, he was just like anyone else.
His daydream was interrupted by Poppy, who notice he'd stopped walking.
"Remus, are you alright?" She called, her wand illuminating the steps ahead. She was in charge of making sure the paths were clear, so she walked ahead of him.
"Yeah," he called back, breathing ragged.
A lie.
She pursed her lips, sympathy clear in her eyes as she gave him a gentle smile. "How are you feeling?"
Remus considered this, seeing as the boys were right next to him and probably leeching on to every word.
"Alright," he replied, looking down at the dying grass.
Lies, lies, and more lies.
He stomped hard on the dried leaves that littered the ground, the sharp crunch sending chills down his spine. Then he stomped on another, and another, just so he could see if he'd flinch at the loud crackling. So he could be reminded of how weak he truly was.
Eventually, he felt a hand on his forearm, a gentle reminder that the other boys had remained with him.
"Stop that, please," James whispered, his eyes clenched shut. He hated how privileged he was, how easy he had it whilst Remus went through undeserving pain night after night. He would've given his inheritance to trade places with his friend, the boy who'd been beaten down by the world and chose to stand up again.
He could sense Remus's frustration as he scoffed. "Go away, James."
This was followed with silence, none of the boys brave enough to bring up his cracking voice. It was easier that way, to pretend like it was all some grand adventure they partook in, just four rowdy boys with the ability to transform into animals.
It was easier to romanticize the pain than to reveal the full extent of his injuries.
Deny, deny, deny, until you can't any longer. Until the blood seeps through your fingers, slick as water, and you're counting all the breaths you have left. Pretend like there's a light at the end of the tunnel, that it's just another trek to glory. Deny that you're drowning in the world, the very fibers of your existence begging to be set free.
That had been his life for as long as he remembered. He knew there had been a time before it all, A Rose Period where he grinned, jaw unclenched, his eyes soft, skin unblemished. There had been a time when Lyall and Hope had creaseless faces, unmarred by concern and regret. There had been a time when happiness was everywhere. Like Picasso's paintings, free, optimistic, untethered.
The saccharine juice of peaches, sticking to his fingers and cheeks, Hope's laughter as she watched him pretend to read her old poetry books, not knowing the text was upside-down. Lyall, kissing his wife on the cheek as he pretended to enjoy Remus's fifth birthday casserole that had been burnt to a crisp. Next time, he'd said, leaning back to loosen his tie, you leave the cooking to me.
But there hadn't been a next time, for after the cake had been cut and doled out, after the neatly wrapped presents had been torn open, after smiles were exchanged and he was tucked in carefully, they'd heard a scream.
Then horror, as they saw his white sheets dyed scarlet. Their child screaming at the harrowing sight of Fenrir Greyback. Then it was nonstop pain for the next few months, St. Mungo's tea fueling their mind, urging them to stay awake, because the last time they'd closed their eyes, tragedy struck. Then came the agony, as they bound their baby in shackles to prevent him from running loose.
That was the end of an era of roses.
Now, he drowned in the blue, somber and wary of the world. A sea, waves crashing against him violently until he drowned, last breaths gurgled and choking. There was only so long he could stay afloat, limbs burning with effort as he treaded the vicious waters.
It would be blue until the very end.
********
TW: Depressive thoughts. Please be kind to yourself!! :)))
He screamed, strangled sobs leaking out of his chest. The boys were still there. They would see him like this, weak and useless, a dying creature waiting to be put down.
Sirius couldn't tear his eyes away, his jaw set as he watched him cry. His whole body was tense, and he gently reached out to touch Remus's forearm. The two both jerked away, flinching under the flesh contact. Like Sirius's skin had been woven with silver, and Remus's hands had been replaced by Walburga's. Under kinder circumstances, this gesture would've been beautiful. Here, it was terrifying, predatorial.
Remus coughed and choked as his organs realigned. What sort of luck was it, that after every transformation, he survived? What could possibly be the chances of life in this dingy old shack, tearing himself open? He shouted at them all, his voice harsh but his words clear.
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