swim || remus lupin

sounds of rain

The night of the full moon completely drained my mental stability. I rolled around in my bed, restless, as time dragged on painfully slowly. I checked the clock every two minutes expecting hours to pass, only to be left with angering disappointment.

Alice had left the window cracked slightly in preparation for our upcoming Defense Against the Dark Arts demonstrations, and each wind whistle and twig snap felt amplified significantly as I pictured horrifying scenarios of the wolf hurting Remus.

I didn't know the specifics of his full moon ritual, I was sure Dumbledore would have brought him away from campus, and not off to roam the grounds freely in a wolf state of mind. But, I was also sure that wherever he was, he was in an immense amount of pain.

The thought of Remus's bones breaking and his skin shredding as he grew larger, stronger, and furrier had an uncomfortable twisting effect on my stomach. More than anything I yearned to find him, comfort him. Underneath all of the anger and claws, he was Remus. The soft boy with fluffy brown hair, drowning auburn eyes, and the brightest smile. The frustration I felt from understanding the exact sort of anguish he was experiencing seared my heart and I forced my pillow over my face in attempts to muffle the powerful emotion.

I checked the clock, 3:26. I squeezed my eyes shut and then opened them, still 3:26. I groaned and swung my feet over the edge of my bed, it was no use staying here.

I crept down to the common room, the silence of the night contrasting the overwhelming noise in my head. I crossed the room to the portrait hole, but before I reached it, the painting swung open on its own. I jumped back, pressing myself into a seat along the wall by the chess boards and praying that the incomers wouldn't turn around.

"Come on, mate, almost there," whispered a familiarly polished English accent.

"Just up the stairs, Wormtail," came another, more Cockney, voice. "Merlin, you've put on a few, haven't you?"

I squinted my eyes through the darkness to make out three figures, varying in height, two of whom were supporting the third who appeared slightly limp and sleepy. But what were the three of them doing out at 4 in the morning? And where was their fourth?

Once the boys had disappeared up the stairs, I slipped out of the portrait hole with no planned destination. I was sure to stay quiet, knowing the paintings on the wall were very particular about their rests, and turned down corridor after corridor until I realized where my feet were taking me.

My paces slowed as I approached the hospital wing. I could hear some shuffling and muffled voices, but was unable to tell who exactly was talking. I walked a little bit further in to try and decipher the conversation.

"I'm not particularly fond of the idea of those boys going out with him," said one voice.

"I understand, Poppy, but I fancy that more than for Mr. Lupin to be off on his own," responded the other.