❝somtimes i think you are a human
hiding in a dog's body.❞
❇
with his best friends dead, sirius black feels that he truly has nowhere to go. lonely and abandoned, he becomes a dog, and roams the streets aimlessly, drowning himself in...
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ChapterForty Five: Incredible Ideas
24 December 1982
The wind howled as snow blew around and carried numerous debris along with it. The narrow streets were utterly deserted and as far as he could see, there was not a single soul in sight. The vicious wind whipped him and threatened to freeze any part of his body that was not covered by a protective layer of clothing, but Remus continued to walk amidst the snowstorm in a stubborn anger that had overtaken him out of nowhere.
Christmas had always been a joyous occasion for Remus, and Lyall had been over the moon at the thought of having his son with him, for the first time in ages. Thus, it didn't come as a surprise that he had dragged Remus out of bed early in the morning and took him out for some last minute Christmas shopping. Unfortunately, Remus wasn't in his best of moods today, and when his father had begun to fuss too much, he yelled at him.
Remus had seen the humiliation and hurt that he felt in his eyes, but for the moment he was overcome by a strong desire to hurt everyone and everything, and he didn't give a damn about the onlookers who had gathered around them. He kept spewing words at his father that he knew he could never take back, and yet he didn't try to stop himself. Lyall didn't protest at all, and simply absorbed everything that was hurled at him.
He left home soon after, and Remus has turned away to walk around in an attempt to calm his mind. And thus, here he was, pushing through the ferocious wind, and going goodness knew where. He couldn't identify the road he was in, nor could he see any street signs or any other landmarks that would let him know where he was. The weather had taken control and was determined to show who the master was.
Remus walked aimlessly for half an hour, bent forward so as to keep his balance, and hands wrapped protectively around his body. His cap threatened to fly away with the wind, but somehow managed to hold onto him. The vicious whistle cut through the air like gunshots, and Remus had the faint image of a war going on, both sides shooting at each other mercilessly.
War.
There was a war going on, wasn't there?
Only, this war didn't use guns. And it was fully concealed from the whole world. No one knew about the intense battles that took place nearly everyday, and if they did, their memories were wiped out promptly. No one had any idea of the sufferings the people were going through, no one knew whether they were starving, whether they were living, whether they were dead.
No one cared.
They may as well have been living on leftovers from restaurants, probably half dead, with no one to lend their shoulders to lay their heads on, with wounds carving every inch of their bodies, branding their skin, often permanently, as a sort of a cruel reminder of what they were going through, every second of every single day. Remus remembered the nasty burn on Sirius's cheek, and the fact that it would never fade, since this was a result of a Dark magic. He remembered the several wounds Nathan gracefully wore, concealed from everyone, and the burns on his hands where excess potions have spilt while they were brewing them together.
