#deedoubleiddow

Dated: 23 January, 1978Location: The Lupin’s Cottage↕ - a memory that may or may not have happened

Remus’ eyes shot open, a feverish sweat clinging to his skin as he sat up in bed. His head was spinning, eyes dark and full of fear. The werewolf’s skin was burning up, but the air in the small bedroom was freezing, a winter breeze playing at the ends of white curtains. Remus blinked for a moment in the dark, his eyes hardened as he stared in front of him, as if he’d seen a ghost.

Despite the January chill, the window was wide open. Remus’ hands were shaking as he pushed his blanket to the side, swinging his legs to the side of the bed to stand. His bare feet didn’t feel the chill on the old wooden floors, and he felt as though he was in a daze as he moved towards the window. He wasn’t sure if he was breathing; the moment didn’t feel real.

Tremblings fingers tracing along the chipped paint on the edge of the windowsill, Remus stood in the small opening, golden eyes looking out in the silent winter night. The moon was nearly full, casting a cool glow on the sharp angles of the werewolf’s profile, his face stony and pale. In the distance, he narrowed his eyes at a tall, dark figure standing at the edge of the tree-line. It was almost possible to believe that it wasn’t real— a trick of the mind, maybe, little more than the play of shadows in his feverish mind. That is, until the figure moved.

It stepped forwards into the moonlight, the sharp line of pointed teeth in a crooked smile causing the werewolf to grow pale. Remus didn’t blink. He didn’t breath. The figure just stared with that nightmarish grin, eyes wild, dark and hollow. He wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, staring back at one another. It was as if the werewolf was trapped in his body, stuck watching himself from a distance, frozen out fear or perhaps something else.

When Remus finally dropped his gaze, he was alone, hands stiff from the cold and cheeks stinging in the harsh coastal breeze. Reaching a shaking hand up to his face, he was surprised to find tears there, and he brushed against his skin once, twice, and then over and over, until his cheeks were raw. The werewolf swallowed painfully, the memory of the moment suddenly colliding harshly with reality as he fumbled to close the window with wide eyes.