All things end

Ever since I can remember, there has always been noise in my life, a relentless symphony that echoed through every moment and every memory.

It began with the hushed whispers and worried murmurs that filled the house when my mom fell ill. The sound of her labored breathing, the clatter of medicine bottles, and the mumbled sobs that escaped her when she thought I was asleep—it was a cacophony of fear and uncertainty that seeped into every corner of the house.

My father's concern was palpable, his brows furrowed with worry as he sought out healers to tend to my mother's illness. There were always healers coming and going, their solemn faces a constant presence in the Lupin household, their spells, and potions a desperate attempt to silence the relentless noise that had invaded our lives.

But none of the magic seemed to make a difference. My mother remained trapped in the grip of her illness, her condition worsening despite the healers’ best efforts. It was a cruel irony, watching as the very thing that defined our world—a world of spells and potions—failed to bring relief to the woman who meant everything to me.

Then there was the time when I was 5 years old and got bitten in my sleep, and irrevocably changed. From that moment on, the noise in my life only grew louder, more insistent, until it drowned out everything else.

The nights when the moon hung high in the sky were the worst, my father would lock me inside a tiny shed, the only place where he meant I could contain the chaos within me. The transformation was agonizing, my body contorting and reshaping itself into a beast.

Something I thought would make me unlovable.

It felt as though I was trapped between two worlds, torn between my human self and the wolf inside me. Each time I emerged from the shed, my skin and soul were scarred from the ordeal, I felt the weight of my mom and dad’s sorrowful gazes, their silent acknowledgment of the burden I had become for my family.

I could sense the fear in my parents' eyes, their withdrawal evident as they grappled with their conflicting emotions. They loved me, of that I was certain, but there was also a deep-seated fear, a hesitation born from what I had become. And so, I found myself more alone than ever, isolated in my struggle with no one to turn to.

And as I grew up and the years passed, the wolf's screams during the full moon only grew louder, echoing in the depths of my soul. I withdrew further into myself, distancing myself from my parents and the world around me.

“There's something so lonesome about you, something so wholesome about you."

When I turned eleven, I received my acceptance letter to Hogwarts, a revelation that filled me with disbelief and hope. I never thought such a possibility existed for someone like me, someone burdened with the curse of lycanthropy. The noise of my solitary struggles was suddenly replaced with the bustling energy of a whole castle filled with students.

In particular, the three other boys I shared my dorm with—James, Sirius, and Peter—became my constant companions, my brothers in all but blood. Their noise was not the sorrowful one I had known back home, but a symphony of laughter and friendship that filled the air in the Gryffindor common room and all around the castle grounds.

And thus, the Marauders were born, forged in the fires of mischief and camaraderie. Together, James, Sirius, Peter, and I formed an unbreakable bond, bound by our shared love for adventure and our thirst for mischief. The next seven years of my life were a whirlwind of excitement and camaraderie, each day filled with the delightful noise of laughter from my 3 best friends and… me.

Late-night adventures became our specialty, sneaking out of our dormitory under the cover of James' invisibility cloak to explore the hidden corners of Hogwarts. The castle became our playground, a canvas for our creativity and mischief as we came up with elaborate pranks and devised (sometimes clever) schemes to outwit our professors and other students.We crafted something that became the first source of pride in my life: the Marauder's Map.

But our bond went beyond mere mischief; it was rooted in a deep sense of friendship and loyalty. We shared our secrets, our hopes, and our fears, knowing that the challenges that lay ahead, we would face them together. We laughed together, we cried together, and we stood by each other through it all, united in our determination to make the most of our time at Hogwarts.

And then, amidst the chaos of our adventures and the bonds of brotherhood, I found myself falling in love with one of my friends. At first, the noise of love was like a boulder, always slipping from my grasp whenever I tried to roll it uphill. But after what felt like an eternity of struggle, it finally reached the summit, and the cacophony of doubt and uncertainty gave way to the sweet symphony of being in love and being loved in return.

Sirius had me like no one ever had before. The sound of his laughter, the whispers of his affection, were like the purest form of magic, casting a spell over me that I couldn't resist. And when he uttered those three simple words, "I love you," the noise of my heart pounding in my chest drowned out everything else. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated joy, a crescendo in the symphony of our love that echoed through every fiber of my being.

Then came the noise of the first wizarding war, the battles were loud. Always being on high alert was like a constant ringing in my head. Every explosion, every spell cast, echoed in every corner of my mind, the chaos was always on full blast. It was a relentless assault on the senses, a reminder of the ever-present danger that lurked around every corner. There was no escape, no refuge from the relentless onslaught of noise that engulfed us all.

When I was on mission, navigating through the treacherous territory, the noise that surrounded me was not just the clash of eerie howls of werewolves and other creatures in the night. It was the relentless whisper of doubt that echoed in my mind. As I moved stealthily through the shadows, I sought out other werewolves, hoping to convince them to join the side of the Order. But their allegiance lay elsewhere, their hearts hardened by years of prejudice and persecution. The noise of their rejection was deafening, a reminder of the divide that separated us, even in the midst of a common enemy.

And yet, amidst the chaos and the darkness, there were moments of clarity. In those fleeting instances, I glimpsed the possibility of redemption, of finding common ground in the wizarding world. The noise of battle faded into the background as I sought to bridge the gap between us, to forge a path towards unity and understanding. But the road was fraught with danger, and the noise of dissent grew louder with each passing day. 

For every werewolf I managed to sway to the orders cause, there were countless others who remained steadfast in their loyalty to the Dark Lord.

Each time I came home from a mission, I was lucky if Sirius was even home, and when he was, he sat uncomfortably still—the loudest silence I've ever known. Having a meaningful conversation with him was as uncertain as the outcome of a flipped coin.

Our relationship had been like a rollercoaster over the past year. Sometimes, it was the loud, passionate love where we would stumble through the apartment and into the bedroom after a night at the Leaky Cauldron, celebrating a successful mission or something finally going right with our friends. Other times, it was a silence so deafening, the war inside my head drowned out all the noise from the war raging in our world.

The quiet anger and doubt were emanating from Sirius in waves, when we learned there was a spy in the Order. It was like being stabbed in the heart again and again, only to be patched up and face the same torment every day.

Upon my return home to our apartment after a foreign mission with the werewolves, a different kind of quiet greeted me. It wasn't the serene silence that Sirius and I had shared in recent months; instead, it felt as though a part of me had been torn from the world. Learning what had happened to James and Lily only confirmed the oppressive silence, and it felt like plunging into a deep abyss, with walls closing in around me, shutting out every semblance of noise. It was a suffocating silence, devoid of the comforting presence that had once filled my life.

The silence that had fallen upon my life after the 31st of October 1981, was like something I had never known.