#the-wolf-within

VI Quote of the Week:

And yet there was the tiny witch Alecto Carrow, with angel eyes and long golden ringlets, speaking to him in soothing words, a benign smile and offering him water. Water, for Merlin’s sake. He had not even realized just how thirsty he actually was until the cold liquid touched his chapped lips and suddenly he was gulping it almost with effervescence. Remus knew water was not supposed to have any flavour, but in that instant, he felt like it did, he felt like he was tasting light and salvation. While far from healed, or even “better” at all, he did feel a small wave of refreshment. Fuck, he could not remember ever having enjoyed a drink of water as much as he did in that moment.                                                            -- the-wolf-within, These Aching Bones

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He glanced over to the lazy sun and started to pack up some of their goodies, snatching a small tart and popping the entire thing into his mouth in one bite. It puffed out his cheeks and he couldn’t help but laugh- unable to speak. He grabbed another and held it up for her to do the same.                                                             -- strikes-goyle, A Reluctant Reminder

To say that Narcissa held on to the railing above her would be an understatement. From her crouched position on the floor, she gripped the gilded bar with a strength she didn’t know she possessed, determined not to be jostled about by the moving of the elevator. Her knuckles grew whiter than the pale hue of her skin, blue veins visible just under the surface of the flesh. Closing her eyes, she just tried to pretend she was somewhere else, somewhere where danger didn’t look around every corner.                                                       -- forever-toujourspur, Ministry Misfortune

Remus had no idea what hurt more, to be still with nothing to focus on but the aching of his body, or to move and strain his sore muscles, bones and joints. As he limped through the surprisingly empty streets of Diagon Alley, he was thankful that no one was around that early in the morning, or his beaten up aspect, filled with dirt that covered bruises that covered fresh cuts, would’ve certainly risen questions.

Breathing felt like an agony. He had to stop every few minutes to catch his breath, head spinning from the pain. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a rough full moon. Then again, it had been a long time since he’d last spent one alone, his friends having all been busy that particular night. James was still recovering from the age-reversal attack, Sirius was probably dealing Merlin knew how with his own inner conflicts, and Peter was stuck at work. The absence of his friends had made the wolf anxious and aggressive, more violent than usual. What was worst, he’d ended up getting way too close to civilization. Thank God he hadn’t come across anyone.

He needed to get some medicine for his sore body. It was the only reason to why he’d ventured downtown before even heading home to make himself look decent. The pain was too much.

He stopped for the fifth time, aching back resting against a wall, as he fumbled his pockets for the pack of cigarettes. His hands were shaking badly, and it took him longer than usual to take out one of the thin little bastards. Fuck, even his fingers, bloody and with broken nails, hurt, knuckles stiff and covered in cuts. He was screwed. A screwed monster, too pathetic and too weak to really scare anybody. He was so tired. He felt like his soul was giving away under the weight of its own existence. Like he was going to dissolve into dust and ashes any minute now.

Struggling with the tremors of his joints, Remus tried to hold the cigarette between his lips to light it, but before he could put it in his mouth, his hands jerked violently out of pure anxiety and the fag fell to the ground.

“Bloody hell” the man cursed under his breath in a hoarse, dry voice. For a moment, he considered leaving it there, the mere thought of bending over to pick it up causing him to wince. But his chest ached for the relief of a smoke, that addictive sensation that he was slowly killing himself without knowing, and to be honest, he didn’t have a lot of money. It was better not to waste a single one of those cigarettes. Trying not to groan too loudly as pain shot through his body, he kneeled, hand stretched towards the fag, when a pair of feet came into view right in front of him.

Surprised that someone else would be there at such early hour, the man raised his head, squinting when the morning light hit him square in the face.

She was nervous; she couldn’t even remember how she had gotten Master Carrow to agree to let her out at night, to allow her this kind of freedom, if only for a couple hours or so, and she knew she would have to pay for them, but she was so thankful. Her hands were visibly shaking as she got ready, thoughts racing through her head. What did one wear to these types of things? Would Remus be in a suit? It was a muggle affair, after all, she couldn’t expect him to wear dress robes, and so she should wear something suitable as well... she wished she would have sent an owl asking, but the couple she’d already sent had been risky enough. 

Alecto had settled on a fitted red dress, drawing inspiration from his costume where this had all began. It was a simple dress, tailored modestly, but fitted enough to show off every curve that she had gotten over the years. Copper ringlets strained, pinned back to keep the hair off of neck and out of her face and with the lightest appliance of make-up she was ready. 

The witch waited until she was sure that Master Carrow was away from the fireplace before she floo’d from Carrow Manor to where she told her father she’d be going. She had no doubt that eventually, she would be caught in the lie she’d told to get to go out, that he’d figure out she wasn’t where she said she was going to be, though she would at least be there for a few moments. She didn’t doubt it, but she was going to worry about that later. When he found out, it would be after the fact, and right now, she wanted to focus on the fact she was seeing a musical, a musical with a kind man who didn’t appear to have a bad bone in his body, despite the world they lived in. 

Remus Lupin Aesthetic (3/?):

“Run, run, run away Deep within the forest Close your eyes and pray”.

The Sirius Black Live Show. I actually have to watch it nearly every fucking day. He’ll get his Oscar nomination for Best Dramatic Actor any day now, I’m sure.

VI Quote of the Week:

The sound of her own heartbeat reverberated throughout the entire prism of her being—each pulse raining down like a long and hard blow, brutally slamming against her chest with every monotone strike. It caused her to feel winded, but Dorcas refused to stop those lightning fast feet of hers until she reached her intended destination.                                                     -- lyinginthemeadowes, When a Siren Calls

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The previous night had been a rare show, Walburga in pristine form and Sirius, of course, missing every beat, every bone offered to him.  She didn’t understand why he couldn’t just listen, why it was so hard for him to obey, or sit still, or even just think.  She doubted that she ever would - or that she even wanted to.                                                         -- forever-toujourspur, Changing Waters

It never occurred to him that anyone might have actually been looking for Calliope Withers, nor even that someone would be anywhere near the rundown, dank alley, three blocks from the smelly waters of the Thames. If he had, then he never would have risked the flash of a camera, or lingered long enough to attract attention.                                                 -- atwistedoldfriend, Right Place, Wrong Time

[After the attack outside the Quidditch stadium]

Remus dropped on the couch feeling twenty years older than he really was, a sensation that haunted him often these days. He held a cup of tea between his scarred hands, not sipping it yet, but allowing the warmth to spread from his palms to the rest of his body. He was awfully tired, but finally at peace.

James was well, recovering from the shock of the age-reversal spell. How exactly he’d done to get the child version of his friend out of that Death Eater melee, Remus was still not quite sure, but he would rather not find out. He never wanted to go through that kind of extra stress ever again.

After dropping James at his place, to a Lily who was probably not so surprised that it had been James who ended up  with his age reversed (honestly, he doubted anyone would have been surprised), his redheaded friend invited him to stay for a while to rest, and he’d accepted a cup of tea. It was exactly what he needed after that day’s events. That and a good bard of chocolate.

“You know, Lils. You have no idea how relieved I am that I met James at Hogwarts and not earlier. I didn’t know a child could harvest so much energy. I was always a calm boy” he commented to his best friend, inviting her to sit down next to her (if one could invite someone to take a sit on their own couch in their own home).

“You should have seen him. Under any other circumstances, it would have been pretty funny”  he added, chuckling softly and taking a careful sip of hot tea “The little rascal was convinced he could take a Death Eater on his own. Even called him mean! A real badass for his age”.

VI Quote of the Week:

That night, they cuddled, tossing names around between happy kisses and muffled laughter; they took the time to explore each other again, as they hadn’t in so long.  It was a feeling of contentment that enveloped Narcissa that night and for the following weeks, as she pored over star charts, attempting to persuade Lucius that they should follow her own family’s tradition.  It was when he came home to find his wife asleep on a 200 year old tome that he caved, smiling as he draped a blanket over her and let her rest, but only after gently placing a kiss on her forehead.                                                                   -- forever-toujourspur, Talitha, pt.1

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Very slowly, Remus took James’s sweater from his friend’s lap. He folded it with extreme care, his touch loving on the knitted crimson-and-gold fabric. It smelled of memories and brighter days. He wished that such memories were not tainted by the sorrow of knowing the person they’d belong to was gone.                                                                        -- the-wolf-within, Caged Stray 

Handing Remus some chocolate, she sat beside him, steeping the bag and twirling the string around her finger and untwirling it seconds later. The witch couldn’t help but grin at Remus and his description of the little James he had encountered, as well as the picture of a young, calm Remus. Not much had changed.                                                  -- loveliest-lily, All Griefs With Bread Are Less