'where we are now' remus lupin & regulus black

Friends

"All of your friends have been here for too long, they must be waiting for you too move on. Girl, i'm not with it, i'm way too far gone. I'm not ready, eyes heavy now."
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REMUS LUPIN

In exactly four months time, there will be a cure for lycanthropy. No, scratch that. There will be a cure for my lycanthropy.

All i've ever wanted my entire life is to be normal, human—if that's what wizards are. The chance to lead a normal life not dictated by the moon. And I can't even allow myself to take joy in it, though I should.

I'm the first werewolf to have a normal schooling experience, and the first werewolf that might be able to do anything other than be vicious. That should mean something, if not everything.

But I'm no longer the only werewolf that falls into those categories anymore.

So the question is, who is more deserving of the cure?

Of course, I'd told Dumbledore the answer to that is, without a doubt, Cordelia.

Then he explained to me thats not what he meant. 'Mr. Lupin, please try to understand the remoteness of a cure like this. The question is not who deserves it more because they've had a harder life; it's who deserves it more because they will make better use of it. In the long run, Mr. Lupin, who is more likely to achieve and maintain a successful career? Because based on academics and skills alone...I know the answer. When this cure is ingested, the consumer is going to be studied for the rest of their life, observed endlessly. We need to ensure the effectiveness, and the only way to do that is by choosing the best possible candidate. And unfortunately, the best candidate isn't always the most fair one..."

So, in other words, I have no choice.

Fuck, how do I even tell her?

Do I tell her?

I sigh as I stare out at the Black lake, admiring it's unusual stillness. If only my mind would try and replicate the calm. Everyday there's something new for me to feel terrible about.
Pulling my scarf tighter around my neck, I try to think of something—anything else but that.

Well, Cordelia's been rather distanced with me lately. Very much giving me the cold shoulder, and I don't know how to fix it. I mean, she's going to have to talk to me sooner or later in preparation for the trial, but as of right now...I think she hates my guts.

I find this odd considering how kind she had been breaking up with me. She may finally be releasing her anger.

"Hey," I jump at the unexpected sound of a males voice.

Amos Diggory stands next to me, eyes cast straight forward at the Black Lake. I can't help but notice the overall gloom that poisons his aura, as if he's carrying a cloud of sadness over him. I wonder if it will ever stop raining.

Clearing my throat and looking back at the lake, "Hello," I say.

The tension in the air is palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. For I've never been fond of him nor him of me. Ironically, both because we share a similar protectiveness for the same girl. But now he's in the same boat as I. Neither of us even talking to the reason for our mutual distaste.