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Seven times smashed
Post OotP fic, for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hathy_col. Short and one-shot.
Seven Times Smashed
by Raven
The sun shone down on the Muggle street, softly illuminating Harry Potter walking down it, with the Dursley family trailing in his wake. He’s grown up, thought his silent watcher. He’s been forced to grow up before his time.
None of them turned to look back, not even Harry, so no-one saw as Remus Lupin slipped back into King’s Cross station. Turning round, he realised that as he had been watching Harry, he had been being watched himself. Molly Weasley was standing next to him, her eyes running over him in silent scrutiny, and Lupin was surprised to see the concern in her expression... he hadn’t seen a mirror lately, he knew.
“Remus,” said Molly quietly. “How long until the full moon?”
“Just a few days,” he admitted. He hadn’t been thinking about it, he realised with a jerk. It was never far from his thoughts, but not now. This was the first time in a long while that something else had driven it out so thoroughly and completely. The thought made him feel oddly... human...
Someone had overheard their beginnings of a conversation. Mad-Eye Moody seemed ready to say something. He opened his mouth a few times, like a codfish, then apparently changed his mind and moved off towards the Weasley twins. In the end, it was Molly who spoke next. “Remus?”
“Yes?” asked the owner of the name.
“Are you... are you taking your... you know, your potion? Wolfsbane?”
Lupin smiled. “Yes. Having Severus Snape in the Order of the Phoenix is beneficial in at least one way.”
He knew why the question was being asked – on Moody’s behalf. Moody would trust anyone Dumbledore trusted, but his ever-increasing paranoia meant that having an obviously Dark creature in the Order grated on his battle-scarred nerves. Lupin’s outwardly quiet demeanour only served to unnerve the Auror further. However, the werewolf had never felt particularly threatened or even offended. It was worth it, he’d decided, to see Mad-Eye at a loss.
“It’s just...” Molly went on, with difficulty. “It’s just... you have forgotten before, and... well, you know what happened...”
“I won’t forget,” Remus promised her, but she didn’t seem quite content. He waited for her to speak again, and when she did it was with further trepidation. “You know when you transform?”
“Yes,” said Remus slowly.
“You might be alone this time, because of... well, you know... and I just wondered... will you be all right?”
Lupin gazed at her steadily. “When Sirius was in Azkaban,” he said quietly, “I survived one hundred and forty-four transformations alone. I think I can manage one more.”
Molly smiled at him, but didn’t speak. As she turned away to tend to her family, Lupin realised Moody must have heard what he’d said as well. Neither of them had noticed the significance in his last remark. Molly would never suspect such a thing, and Moody was so much on his guard for the darkness out there that he never thought to look for the darkness within.
When he got back to Grimmauld Place, he sat on the floor and stared at the wall and waited for the knock at the door. It came exactly on time; Snape was nothing if not punctual. But when Remus looked opened the door and looked out, he was gone. The only evidence for his presence was a smoking goblet on the floor.
Snape still doesn’t want to lay eyes on me, Lupin thought with a kind of amused bitterness. He probably still thinks of me as Dumbledore’s tame werewolf.
Tame... the word lingered in his head as he lifted the goblet.
And dropped it.
The goblet smashed on the ground, the smoking liquid gushing over his bare feet. Calmly, he stepped back, reached for his wand and muttered, “Reparo.” The goblet was in one piece again, but the potion was gone, swiftly trickling away and evaporating. He smiled.
Seven times, he did it. Molly Weasley made him eat and sleep, and the twins made him smile on occasion with their latest inventions, and even Snape was heard to remark he seemed almost heartless in his determination to be unaffected. He only smiled; he thought about the seven-times-smashed goblet, and he thought of poor Snape, all his hard work going to waste...
On the night of the full moon, he placed the required charms on the door and went to do the same for the windows. The clouds were shifting; there wasn’t much time left. Taking a step back, he whispered the charms and then put down the wand just as his ragged fingernails started curling into claws.
Downstairs, Mrs Black started screeching about half-breed humans, and Mrs Weasley began to feel the beginnings of fear, fear that intensified with each passing second. “Arthur!” she screamed, and when he didn’t come instantly, being in the headquarters of the Ministry of Magic at the time, she started screaming for anyone, Ron, Ginny, Dumbledore, the twins, Mundungus Fletcher, anyone except...
Alone and hidden, Moony screamed, and tore and scratched and ripped and slashed and bit and howled a wolf’s grief at the moon.
In the morning, he would regret this... but that didn’t matter, not now on the night of the full moon, without Padfoot, without Prongs, without Wormtail, and Moony howled and drowned in blood.
In the morning, the blood mingled with saltwater.
la fin
That done, I'm going to bed. There's an owl outside my window (no, really).
hathy_col. Short and one-shot.Seven Times Smashed
by Raven
The sun shone down on the Muggle street, softly illuminating Harry Potter walking down it, with the Dursley family trailing in his wake. He’s grown up, thought his silent watcher. He’s been forced to grow up before his time.
None of them turned to look back, not even Harry, so no-one saw as Remus Lupin slipped back into King’s Cross station. Turning round, he realised that as he had been watching Harry, he had been being watched himself. Molly Weasley was standing next to him, her eyes running over him in silent scrutiny, and Lupin was surprised to see the concern in her expression... he hadn’t seen a mirror lately, he knew.
“Remus,” said Molly quietly. “How long until the full moon?”
“Just a few days,” he admitted. He hadn’t been thinking about it, he realised with a jerk. It was never far from his thoughts, but not now. This was the first time in a long while that something else had driven it out so thoroughly and completely. The thought made him feel oddly... human...
Someone had overheard their beginnings of a conversation. Mad-Eye Moody seemed ready to say something. He opened his mouth a few times, like a codfish, then apparently changed his mind and moved off towards the Weasley twins. In the end, it was Molly who spoke next. “Remus?”
“Yes?” asked the owner of the name.
“Are you... are you taking your... you know, your potion? Wolfsbane?”
Lupin smiled. “Yes. Having Severus Snape in the Order of the Phoenix is beneficial in at least one way.”
He knew why the question was being asked – on Moody’s behalf. Moody would trust anyone Dumbledore trusted, but his ever-increasing paranoia meant that having an obviously Dark creature in the Order grated on his battle-scarred nerves. Lupin’s outwardly quiet demeanour only served to unnerve the Auror further. However, the werewolf had never felt particularly threatened or even offended. It was worth it, he’d decided, to see Mad-Eye at a loss.
“It’s just...” Molly went on, with difficulty. “It’s just... you have forgotten before, and... well, you know what happened...”
“I won’t forget,” Remus promised her, but she didn’t seem quite content. He waited for her to speak again, and when she did it was with further trepidation. “You know when you transform?”
“Yes,” said Remus slowly.
“You might be alone this time, because of... well, you know... and I just wondered... will you be all right?”
Lupin gazed at her steadily. “When Sirius was in Azkaban,” he said quietly, “I survived one hundred and forty-four transformations alone. I think I can manage one more.”
Molly smiled at him, but didn’t speak. As she turned away to tend to her family, Lupin realised Moody must have heard what he’d said as well. Neither of them had noticed the significance in his last remark. Molly would never suspect such a thing, and Moody was so much on his guard for the darkness out there that he never thought to look for the darkness within.
When he got back to Grimmauld Place, he sat on the floor and stared at the wall and waited for the knock at the door. It came exactly on time; Snape was nothing if not punctual. But when Remus looked opened the door and looked out, he was gone. The only evidence for his presence was a smoking goblet on the floor.
Snape still doesn’t want to lay eyes on me, Lupin thought with a kind of amused bitterness. He probably still thinks of me as Dumbledore’s tame werewolf.
Tame... the word lingered in his head as he lifted the goblet.
And dropped it.
The goblet smashed on the ground, the smoking liquid gushing over his bare feet. Calmly, he stepped back, reached for his wand and muttered, “Reparo.” The goblet was in one piece again, but the potion was gone, swiftly trickling away and evaporating. He smiled.
Seven times, he did it. Molly Weasley made him eat and sleep, and the twins made him smile on occasion with their latest inventions, and even Snape was heard to remark he seemed almost heartless in his determination to be unaffected. He only smiled; he thought about the seven-times-smashed goblet, and he thought of poor Snape, all his hard work going to waste...
On the night of the full moon, he placed the required charms on the door and went to do the same for the windows. The clouds were shifting; there wasn’t much time left. Taking a step back, he whispered the charms and then put down the wand just as his ragged fingernails started curling into claws.
Downstairs, Mrs Black started screeching about half-breed humans, and Mrs Weasley began to feel the beginnings of fear, fear that intensified with each passing second. “Arthur!” she screamed, and when he didn’t come instantly, being in the headquarters of the Ministry of Magic at the time, she started screaming for anyone, Ron, Ginny, Dumbledore, the twins, Mundungus Fletcher, anyone except...
Alone and hidden, Moony screamed, and tore and scratched and ripped and slashed and bit and howled a wolf’s grief at the moon.
In the morning, he would regret this... but that didn’t matter, not now on the night of the full moon, without Padfoot, without Prongs, without Wormtail, and Moony howled and drowned in blood.
In the morning, the blood mingled with saltwater.
la fin
That done, I'm going to bed. There's an owl outside my window (no, really).