Four To The End (prev Shifting Lines) - Book One (Marauder Era)

Chapter Seventy-Six - Sucking Out The Life Force

At Hogwarts he had another breakfast shake which tasted like chocolate. This one he sucked down within minutes, making sure he mentioned how much he preferred this one. Hopefully he'd get a chocolate one every morning after a full moon. Then he fell asleep, vague nightmares of broken bones and Lily shouting at him swirling around his head.

While he ate lunch he pondered over the whole not-as-bad-as-he-expected thing. Was the wolf going easier on him? Or--did his fight with Lily really not touch on him as much as he thought it did? It hurt so much as a human and he thought whatever agitated him as a human would agitate the wolf. When he had been upset over Fawley talking about the Blacks involvement in her sister's execution it had been one of the worst full moon stretches ever. Was it just because that did affect the wolf? Was the wolf... aware? Of his memories? Was it more than just anxious, stressed human = anxious, stressed wolf?

Does it have a mind of its own? he wondered as he poked at the steak Pomfrey had brought him. He thought he knew the wolf. He felt it as a human, felt its anger, its desire to lash out... sometimes it tried to control him outside the moon. But this was a brand new possibility. When he was a full blown wolf... was he... more than just the violent fury? Was there something else there? Something that raged against thoughts of another wolf's execution but didn't care about the silly, asinine fights two 12 year olds would have? Or... did the fight with Lily not really cause as much emotional trauma as he thought it did? Was it all on the surface? What was it? Why was it?

He took a big bite of the steak, chewing without really tasting it despite steak being one of his favorite things (which was, he suspected, because of the wolf too. He hadn't come across any kind of meat he hadn't liked yet). He wished there was another werewolf he could talk to. Ask. He wished he wasn't so... alone...

*

Remus left the hospital wing about an hour before supper. He had some healing wounds on his chest still but otherwise felt okay, albeit quite tired. At least always wearing too-big clothes meant his jumper easily hid the bulky bandages underneath. He walked (slowly) to the Great Hall, not really feeling like going all the way up to the dorm only to come back down in an hour. Nobody he knew was in the Hall though so he sat by himself, reading the Muggle fiction book he had with him all weekend though hadn't read very much yet. It was incredibly good, one of the best books he had ever read even if he didn't understand a lot of it due to it being very... science-y and technological.

He was so engrossed in the book that the time passed by quickly and he never even heard anyone coming up behind him until suddenly someone put their hands over his eyes. He yelped in shock, dropping the book.

"Guess who?" asked a muffled voice.

"Sirius, I know it's you!" Remus pried his hands off, glaring a bit, hoping Sirius wouldn't ask how he knew since it was from his scent. "You frightened me."

"Sorrrryyyy." He plopped down next to Remus, grinning. "Welcome back. You still look awful."

"Thanks." He scooped the book up, finding his place.

"The Andromeda Strain?" Sirius squinted at the title. "Is that about the galaxy or the myth?"

"Neither. It's about these extraterrestrial microorganisms from space killing people and scientists trying to figure out what they are and how to stop it," Remus mumbled, putting the bookmark into the right spot. "It's really good."

"Lemme be the judge of that." Sirius took the book, flipping open to the spot he just marked. "'In essence it functioned as a giant switchboard fully... com... comp... uhhh comm...cohm-putt-er-ihzed...'"