» a werewolf's heart » {wolfstar}

restless

- moony -

I'm floating on the lake on my back, staring up at the stars. It's a full moon. It seems hazy, tinged a bit green. The world is blanketed in quiet. It feels eerie.

The Snitch wafts playfully over me, glinting in the moonlight. I watch James streak after it on his broomstick, the Quaffle tucked under his arm. He isn't in Quidditch robes. He seems to be wearing pajamas. Odd.

Padfoot chases after James in his customary dog form, but he's sprouted enormous, black-feathered wings that shine in the moonlight. Neither of them notice me below them, floating in the lake, carefree. Careless. Not sure which.

I turn my head, and Peter is beside me. He speaks, his voice oddly distant. Muffled. "Remus—shouldn't you be a werewolf?" He looks fearfully up at the full moon, and I follow his gaze.

Oh yes. I've forgotten. It seems ridiculous, and I'm about to laugh when the transformation sets in. I feel it growing in my bones—everything stretching, fur erupting from my skin. I thrash in the water, half man and half wolf. I might drown... but that isn't what frightens me.

The wolf, the wolf, not the wolf! I start to yell, but my vocal cords are changing, and anyway, the still night seems to have muffled my voice even worse than Peter's. I swim awkwardly toward the shore; Peter beats me there and climbs out, oddly dry, dressed in his Hogwarts robes. James and Padfoot land there. Sirius changes back into a human, wearing just his boxers, but he still has those enormous black wings, like some sort of dark angel. What are they doing? The werewolf is taking over—if they don't change into their Animagus forms—

My vision tunnels, becoming blurred around the edges. I feel a frantic panic rising inside, but it's becoming dim, muffled... and an intense hunger takes over. When I look at my friends, I begin to see prey...

No! I'm not the werewolf, no, I won't—won't hurt them—

When I wake, it's in a cold sweat, my heart thundering in my chest. I instantly jerk my head around to look out the window—I can only see a small part of the moon, but that's enough. It's not full yet. Not for a couple days. Still, I'm slow to relax. My heart pounds no less painfully in my ears.

"Remus?"

Glancing toward the source of the voice, I see James sitting up in bed, his covers pooled around his waist. He's squinting blearily, not wearing his glasses, and his hair's in worse disarray than usual. If that's possible. I force myself to calm down; I didn't mean to wake anyone. "I'm... I'm fine. Strange dream, that's all."

"Sounded like a—a nightmare," he says through a yawn. Sirius rolls over in bed and mutters something in his sleep; I glance over at what I can see of him, which happens to be a leg sticking out of his covers and a hand draped over his face.

I manage to collect myself, pulling together a cavalier tone. "Nah, I'm okay—sorry to wake you." I can tell that my tone sounds fake, but sleepy James doesn't notice. He just nods and lies back down with a heavy thump.

I take one last glance out the window. It's started snowing very lightly, tiny flecks of white spiraling down from the sky and giving the moon a broader halo. I shudder faintly and turn away, lying down on my side, blankets pulled up to my chin like a feeble shield against the moon, my worst fear and enemy.

-o-

"You're looking awful, Moony," Sirius informs me quietly as we file into History of Magic. It's our first class of the day today. Whoever set up the schedule that way must have been mad, because it's hard enough waking up in the morning without having to sit through the dull droning of Professor Binns. When you're tired enough, his rhythmic speech begins to seem like a sort of lullaby. Of course, Sirius, James, and Peter are glad for the extra sleep. I usually end up taking most of the notes.