Howls and Scowls
Throughout the rest of the week, Remus observes the boys he lives with. He learns their quirks and habits but also their pet peeves and interests.
Take Sirius for an example. He loves music, especially muggle music. He loves quidditch too, hoping to be a beater for the Gryffindor team one day. He holds himself in high esteem, sitting with impeccable posture and speaking in an eloquent tongue. Remus also notices Sirius' fervent avoidance of the topic of parents, either going deathly silent at any mention or quickly changing the subject.
Peter takes a great interest in plants and potions, weaving facts into most conversations. He talks in his sleep, much to Remus' annoyance. Loud and passionate with his friends but quiet and timid around others. He even develops a slight stutter when he is nervous or heated. However, he is incredibly smart-witted, always armed with a good comeback or joke.
James, on the other hand, is insufferably happy. He walks around with a permanent grin plastered on his face. Always beaming. He is extremely short-sighted, yet can't for the life of him remember where he put his glasses (most likely on his head). He is possibly even more quidditch-obsessed than Sirius is, taking every opportunity to talk about it to anyone with a pulse. He would like to be a chaser and maybe even the captain of a professional team. Though, he can't quite decide if it will be the Chudley Cannons or Puddlemere United just yet.
Watching these boys so closely has given Remus a strange sense of hope. He can't understand why or where it's coming from, but it's there, and it's strangely comforting.
---
As the day comes to a close, Remus becomes more and more unsettled, anxiously biting his lip and fidgeting with his hands. He can feel the wolf inside him, ready to be rid of its human shackles.
He is practically seizing with nerves by the time Professor McGonagall collects him from his dorm. Luckily for him, his three roommates were elsewhere at the time, so he didn't have any explaining to do when he left.
Remus knows that he's going to have to lie to them at some point so he better come up with some more excuses quick before they start to get suspicious. Remus worries deeply that if his secret got out, he'd be forced to leave for good. Though maybe that isn't such a bad thing after all.
Professor McGonagall leads him through the castle towards the hospital wing, where he is told to wait to meet Madam Pomfrey.
The room smells strongly of antiseptic, and it burns in Remus' nostrils. He has a particularly strong sense of smell due to his lycanthropy, but it gets even stronger close to his transformations.
Rather suddenly, Madam Pomfrey appears walking hastily. He follows without need for word, and due to his fairly lanky stature, he has no difficulty keeping up with the petite woman and the Professor.
Remus is confused when they stop in front of a large willow tree. Considerably more confused when Professor McGonagall disappears out of thin air and a small tabby cat appears in her place. Remus has read about animagi, but he has never seen one in real life. It takes great skill and effort to become one, and unlike Remus and his condition, is entirely optional.
The cat saunters towards the tree before butting its head against a large knot near the base of the tree. The tree freezes in place, and the professor gestures for them to follow her as she disappears below the tree.
They walk along a dirt tunnel, arriving at a small wooden door that screams in dissent from their entry. Upon entering, Remus finds himself inside a large wooden shack, old and decaying. It seems decrepit, as if it could fall down at any moment and it reeks of mould and damp, hardly a place of any comfort or luxury.
"Madam Pomfrey will return in the morning to see to any injuries you may have and help you back to the castle. Do you have any questions, Remus?" McGonagall asks.
"Are you sure this place is secure enough? I don't want to be able to get out."
"Once we lock the door Madam Pomfrey and myself will place several charms on the building to ensure your safety." She says, reassuring Remus.
With that, the witch exits with Madam Pomfrey closely behind. Remus hears the door lock and the two witches muttering as they cast their spells.
Removing his clothes in preparation, Remus gazes out the window between boards, spotting the moon as it rises. He can feel the tingle in his fingers of painful anticipation, the rage boiling inside him.
He grits his teeth as the pain sets in, roaring like an untamed flame. The snap and crack of his bones, growing and resetting in their new form, rings loud for the shadows to hear.
Remus drops to his knees, head throbbing and heart thumping. His skin sets alight with agony, every hair growing like spines piercing the surface.
As the pain retreats, ebbing to a dull ache, Remus can feel himself return to his heightened state. Distantly, he can smell the dark magic emanating from the forbidden forest, calling him. He hears the loud groans of the shack under his weight and against the wind. But most of all, he feels the ire spreading throughout him, licking his bones, wrapping its cold, fierce hands around his heart, releasing him from the shackles of mortal sentiment.
In his alternate form, Remus feels safe. He welcomes the relief that comes with it and allows himself to unleash his anger on the world. Takes hold of the power he's craved innately and grasps at freedom.
Walking towards a window, Remus rips the boards from the walls, leaving nothing but the screws behind. Scouring the sky, Remus gazes at the moon fondly, enamoured with its beauty.
A howl. A call. An invite
Remus turns his head violently towards the sound. It comes from deep within the forest. Enticing Remus to join their hunt, their pack.
He tears at the walls, the door, and the windows, desperate to reach them, to be where he belongs. He could be a part of something, anything. Scraping, gouging, clawing, the shack or himself. Anything to escape.
---
By the time dawn arrives, Remus' throat is raw from howling. Large gashes decorate his torso. A shell of a boy lay defeated on the floor, passed from exhaustion. Hours spent trying to free himself for nothing.
McGonagall's charms had been impregnable, and whilst Remus may be stronger as a wolf, he was still an eleven-year-old boy at heart, frail and alone.
Remus is awoken by the screeching of the door and Madame Pomfrey entering. She lets out an audible gasp at the sight of him curled up on the grimy floor, now sodden with his blood. The short woman quickly kneels beside him, pulls out her wand, and begins muttering healing spells, voice wavering with distress.
"Oh love, what have you done?"
Tears escape her eyes, heartbreaking with sympathy.
She conjures a stretcher, slowly lifting Remus' limp body onto it. Just barely conscious but too drained to move or speak. She levitates the stretcher all the way to the hospital wing, carefully transferring him onto one of the beds and pulling the curtains shut swiftly.
---
Gasping for breath, Remus sits up sharply. His eyes dart around the room, attempting to situate himself.
The curtains burst open, revealing a concerned Madame Pomfrey.
"It's Okay Remus. You're Okay. You're in the hospital wing at Hogwarts." the kind witch calms him.
"Sorry, don't worry I'm okay now, I'm fine," he responds hoarsely, dropping his head back against the bed's headboard in relief. He isn't sure wether he is convincing Madame Pomfrey or himself.
"You have nothing to apologise for. I wouldn't blame you if you weren't alright after the night you've had." Pomfrey reassures him. "As far as I can tell, there was no major damage done. However, due to the magical nature of your injuries, there is unfortunately no way to stop the scarring, but they should all be healed in the next fortnight or so."
"Thank you." Remus replies
"You should get some rest. First drink the potion on the table beside you, it should alleviate any pain you have left. If you have any questions or need any more help, please don't hesitate to call me over and ask" She advises him before closing the curtains again and making her way back to her office.
From the amount of light pouring in through the arched windows of the infirmary, Remus estimates that it's around midday. He secretly rejoices about missing lessons. Monday morning astronomy may as well have been the death of him.
He reaches for the potion beside him. Suspiciously eyeing the turquoise liquid. Remus downs it in one go, instantaneously regretting his decision when it leaves a foul taste lingering in his mouth. In a panic, he scrambles to gulp down the glass of water next to it, breathing a sigh of satisfaction once finished.
Drowsy once more, he lays back down, asleep before his head hits the pillow.