Sleepsong { Remus Lupin }

☆one☆

"The more light you allow within you, the brighter the world you live in will be."
— Shakti Gawain
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The page on which Remus was stuck seemed endless. He tried hard to make the words make sense, though they were blurred in front of his face, and even his rapid blinking did nothing to clear his vision. He told himself that once he finished this chapter of his book he would take a break, drink some coffee, force his eyes closed for a minute, but he didn't seem able to comprehend a single syllable. He was too tired to be annoyed, he was more so just very, very, confused. He couldn't even really remember what was going on in the story. Something about the regret main character was feeling, maybe? Or was that the chapter before? He couldn't land on an answer.

"Are you coming to Hogsmeade with us, Remus?"

Startled, Remus looked up to stare into the smiling face of Peter Pettigrew, who was bundled into layers upon layers of winter clothes, a thick tweed jacket on top of a knitted turtleneck, a worn-looking scarf, a hat that went over his earmuff-covered ears. Remus hadn't really heard what he said. "What?" He voice came out strained from lack of use and he cleared his throat, repeating himself a little louder.

Peter, with a look of confusion and a twinge of worry, frowned at him. "Hogsmeade. Are you coming?"

"Oh. No. I have to finish this chapter." He held up the book in his hand. He had to do nothing, really, the book was simply for pleasure, something his mother sent him in the post, and he really did want to go. But he wouldn't. The full moon was coming ever closer, and though Remus knew it was a week away, and the day sun would protect him, he somehow couldn't move past the little voice in his head, screaming in fear of something beyond his control. That screaming little voice kept him glued in place, reluctant to leave even the confines of his room.

Peter frowned, and had a look on his face he only seemed to make at Remus when he wasn't being entirely truthful, but Peter wasn't really one to argue. "If you're sure."

Remus nodded, steadfast, and looked back down at the page, acting as if he truly was invested in its plot line. Peter took his leave, and when Remus heard the click of the door firmly shutting, he closed the book in distaste and tossed it to the floor. He groaned, and slid his body down his bed until his feet brushed the footboard and the pillow he was resting against toppled over, and covered his face. He reached blindly for it, clasping the soft fabric in his hands and pulling it tight against his face. He let out a muffled scream, before flinging the object across the dorm, where it landed right smack in the middle of James's bed.

He was utterly frustrated with himself. Why couldn't he just relax, and deal with his fears like a normal person? Like someone who didn't let them consume themselves or to dictate every aspect of their lives? But he wasn't like that. He was nothing more than a frightened child and he hated himself for it.

Remus truly wanted to be with his friends. He really did, but he couldn't allow himself to. In his own mind, he was volatile and dangerous, a creature that was controlled by his own offensive nature. How could he let himself be near his friends, when he could very possibly hurt them at any moment, without even being able to stop himself? What did it matter, that he only turned at the full moon? All those other 28 days, was he not still a werewolf?

Remus stared at the top of his bed above him, tears filling up in his eyes, and exhaustion creeping into the forefront of his thoughts. He quickly shook it away, he was determined to ward it off as long as he possibly could, worried of what might happen if he didn't. He rolled off of his bed, thumping down onto the hardwood below him. He laid there, on the cold ground, unable to conjure up the will to move. The door suddenly swung open, however, and in embarrassment of his position Remus jumped to his feet.