More angsty version. With execution

**REMUS**

Everything was just as dismal when he opened his eyes. Nightmares had plagued his uneasy sleep. Life only proved to be a real nightmare. One significant difference. What he was facing was very real indeed. The rushing prospect of death.

He felt like he was already going mad. Coldness had sunk into his bones, freezing his soul. It wasn’t natural cold that would just go away if someone turned the heat up. No it was that kind of cold that no heat can prevail. The world could burn, the forests turning to ash, flames dancing across your skin. Still the cold clung to you. It wasn’t around him as it was a part of him. Like being forever frozen in permafrost, never changing and freezing to the end of your days.

It wasn’t a temperature as it was a feeling. The feeling of doom, of knowing you have no hope, surrendering to the exhaustion dragging you down.

Screams all around. Never ending shrieks. Wailing above, crying beneath. Screeches on the right, yells on the left.

The voices was all around him. Was he screaming? How would he know? Was he already deranged? Surely he would know.

Even the anger had wilted slightly, leaving deep despair in it’s wake.

Sirius. Sirius was the reason he was in there. Sirius was the reason Snape was dead and he was going towards the same dreary end. He was angry. Who was he kidding? Of course he was.

Only it didn’t burn as fiercely as before. Betrayal dragged him down to the pits of surrender. He had no idea how long he would be locked up.

Minute after wretched minute passed. Only the screams and the cold presence of dementor’s kept him company.

How he longed for his fire-whiskey. That first burn down his throat was nothing to the warmth spreading through him. What wouldn’t he give to be warm again? To be relieved of the burden of thinking.

He longed for Peter’s hugs. Remus had always been a private person and most touching made him uncomfortable. Yet it was something about Peter’s hugs. So warm and reassuring. Like cozy fires of the Gryffindor common room.

He longed for James arrogance. The confident smiles. He longed for his brazen assortment. The easy kindness that radiated off him. Those witty jokes that made them all guffaw with laughter. That made them clutch their stomachs while they wheezed for breath. He might have the arrogance the size of hogwarts but his kindness was bigger still.

Where Remus was the brains and the muscles, Sirius the spirit, James was the heart. Peter, well, he was the modesty, the humility. The only one that kept their pompous asses to the ground.

But more than anything, he missed Sirius. He would miss him so much when he was gone. But Sirius was the one who had gotten him a death penalty and a cell in Azkaban.

No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t stop loving him. It struck him then. He loved Sirius. It wasn’t just attraction or affection, it was love. Love more potent than the coldness of the walls. Yet hatred bubbled in him. He hated Sirius for betraying him. He hated himself for loving him all the same. For loving someone that would never love him back. Loving someone that would bring about the end.

Before he had just fancied Sirius, or he had convinced himself that was all it was. That the need not to just be physically close to him was much greater, he wanted to be close to his soul. He wanted to touch his spirit, to feel it coat his tongue. Yes Sirius amazing looks was certainly an appeal but it was so much more than that. It was the way his grin could light stars that were close to dead. The way he rolled his eyes even as a smirk crossed his lips. It was how he spoke of the world. So full of hopes and dreams, of life. He was so exuberant with emotions he could drink himself heady on it.

Minute after agonising minute passed. With no company but his own thoughts he felt like death would be a welcome release.

The burn marks from the silver still snared around his bruised arms. It served as a constant reminder of the burning flames that had licked up his body. The torture he had to endure.

He tried to find flickers of happy memories  to keep him sane. Every time he tried though the horrible dementors made an other appearance.

So instead of trying to find happiness the beasts could feed on, he wallowed in despair.

He decided sleep was better. Nightmares haunted him but it was not real. Terrible or not it was still an escape.

As hours turned to days that turned to weeks horror gripped him tighter. What if they had changed their minds and decided to let him rot in there instead? He would rather die than slowly decompose in a prison of his own mind. It wasn’t the aching cold that would be his downfall, it was his mind. Even the unbearably painful transformations seemed preferable at that moment. Enough pain to escape the images flooding his mind. A wolf taking control instead of a broken boy.

The sounds of waves hitting rocks echoed in the building. Howling winds and mad currents. He was out in the middle of nowhere and without his magic he had no hope of escape. Even his wolf strength had been turned off by the handcuffs. He was stuck in hell. There was no saving grace.

The only way he could tell the time was by the draw to the moon. It was growing stronger. Even with the cuffs could he feel it’s magnetic pull. It was bigger than him, it made him feel small. Like there were so much more than him.

There was a small window in his cell. He saw the moon grow bigger each day, unnoticeable at first but clear when you looked closer.

After what he assumed was close to 1 week he stopped eating the disgusting food they passed inside the slots. He had already been eating poorly before, only eating when Peter begged. Seeing as he wasn’t being dragged away to an execution he took matters into his own hands, not that he could really use them. He couldn’t stand the indignity of having to eat with your face in your plate due to being unable to use your hands either. If he was going to die he would rather do it with some modicum if decorum.

He grew more ravenous by every passing hour. It was on pure willpower he resisted the disgusting unsweetened porridge. It wasn’t really porridge though, it was more watery with grains of something rock solid in it. The food smelled like sewage and it tasted worse still. Despite all of that his stomach still rumbled when the slot was opened by blackened gnarled hands.

At least the hunger distracted him from his thoughts. After a few days the hunger disappeared. He was so ravenous he couldn’t even feel it.

His breathing was becoming more shallow and slow. He could feel his heart beating faster in his chest, thundering against the cage of his ribs. Everything turned blurry. Weakness overtook his body and he didn’t move from his position on the ground. A contraption of metal seemed to squeeze his skull. Headaches blared constantly in his ears. His muscles ached. Even his thoughts were going hazy. A reward he had not foreseen of starving to death. He just hoped it happened quickly.

A boiling had begun in his veins and even the coldness was at bay as burning heat welled in him. That feeling of antsy frustration filled him up. It even broke through some of the weakness making him able to move his fingers, which had previously been out of his grasp. He could feel all his bones against his skin that itched. It was the day of the moon. Glances outside only confirmed it, it was still night. The moon almost full, missing only one sliver of pearly grey.

Even the shack seemed preferable than to transform in that awful cell. If it even hurt to fall down on the bed as his bones broke and tore through his flesh, ripping up the skin, how would it feel to fall into a granite wall? He only hoped it would kill him.

Fear still laced his thoughts of death yet he had surrendered to the prospect. Rather die and face nothing than live through hell. He would rather be sixth feet under, surrounded by convicted mad mans and murderers than be starving to death in a granite box of misery.

Yet he had lost his will to live. All the things he would lose didn’t seem quite as important.

Suddenly a crack of apparition could be heard outside his cell.

He squinted and saw a dumpy wizard with beady flinty grey eyes and ginger hair streaked with white.

“Haven’t been eatin aw ya laddy?” He asked in a thick Irish accent.

He didn’t reply. It didn’t feel necessary.

“Rite yer ah quiet one aren’t ya?” The Irish wizard chuckled.

Still he said nothing. The wizard sighed.

“Sorry sorry, gotta get goin ain’t we. Up yer get. No time teh chat aroun, eh?” He smiled jovially.

He tried to move yet he merely moved a few inches and that was only from the extra strength from the moon. The wizard sighed and moved forth.

Undeterred from Remus silence he continued right on talking.

“Yer execution gon be soon. Don ask me when exactly cus i don know nothin i don. Rough this place, innit? Never would i wan get locked in here no” he chatted merrily as he helped Remus to his feet.

“Can barely walk, can ya? Poor laddy. I feel ya mate. Not yer fault, an of it. All that Black youngster ain’t it?” The wizard smiled sadly.

The reminder of Sirius hurt like a slap to the face.

“Orrible fríen really. Really wished it hadn’t turned out like this. Watcher name now again? Rite, rite Remus Lupin. Ironic ain’t it?” The man chuckled.

Oddly enough he sort of liked the man. Cheerful yet not at his imminent death it seemed. He said it wasn’t his fault.

The man supported all of his body weight, his legs tried to buckle on every step. The man lacked any muscle in his arms that Remus could feel. Yet he could basically carry him without a problem. He must really have weighed little then.

He apparated them both out of there into another cell. This one though wasn’t cold at all. There were silver bars over a glass wall and the others were made of stone. A smooth table with straps attached to it stood in the center of the room.

“This is were i leave ya. Me hope go with ya. Don worry” the Irish man smiled sadly.

“Wait. What’s your name?” Remus asked, his voice weak and tired. It was low and hoarse from disuse.

“Oisin Walsh. But yer can call me Oisin” Oisin patted his shoulder gently.

He left through a door that swiftly locked shut.

The cold face of Barty Crouch Sr was standing close to the glass wall.

“It is a full moon tonight. You will spend it here. Your execution is due tomorrow” he informed coldly, not a flicker of emotion crossing his features.

“ Young Mr Black, Mr Pettigrew and Mr Potter have all argued to stay with you this night. Outside of these bars of course for safety. The ministry sees no reason to forbid this” Crouch deadpanned.

As if on cue the form of his three best friends appeared. None of them looked great, not even James. Their eyes all widened as they took him in. He really must look awful then. His reflection was vague in the glass but he saw it all the same. He looked like a walking zombified skeleton.

Without Oisin’s help he collapsed to the ground. His knees buckled and he felt the cold stone beneath him. Gasps of horror could be heard from the other side.

“Moony-“ James whispered but cut himself off.

His muscles begun shaking and he felt something shift in him. A calling echoing in his hollow bone-marrow.

It was starting. As it was his last moon he decided he wouldn’t fight it. He let the pain consume him, he didn’t clench his teeth to stop the screams. Remus was too tired. All his energy was going to staying alive. A worthless struggle.

His blood was flowing all wrong. His bones broke and snapped back together in a different shape. Boiling, burning alive. He was breaking, all of him breaking in pieces. He felt every bone, every artery, nerve and muscle of his body. He felt them twist one by one. It always started with his hands. They broke then remade themselves, ripping off the skin. Hot blood dripping down from him. His heart was racing in his chest as the ribs keeping it contained cracked, puncturing something important in him.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurtshe thought. Boiling blood was coursing through his veins. Screams tore their way out of his burning throat. A twisting in his guts. It would have made vomit inch it’s way up his throat if he would have had any content in his stomach. As it was every bone was so close to his skin they tore like knives through it. Through the flesh as well. Tornados of glass roaring through him. Pain beyond pain. Pain beyond reason. Beyond agony. It was beyond the piercing screams. It was beyond imagining.

Fur was growing from the flesh. Like millions of needles forcing their way out of him. His spine was elongating and it broke clean in two, making him arch upward. It was like void in space. The quiet before the storm. Then they snapped back together. Dying like a star only to form a colossal explosion. Shards of agony flying in every direction of his body. Burning fire from his core to the tips of his toes. A supernova destroying everything in it’s wake tearing through him.

The pain was too great. No thoughts or reason passed through his mind. The only thing he was, was agony. The highest mountain, the climax of suffering.

Blood was dripping down him and claws tugged at his consciousness. He didn’t fight the vicious claws, tugging for power. For the control, tired of watching from the background.

**JAMES**

Remus screaming was if possible even louder than usual. He was so skinny, he looked like a pile of bones.

The wolf was not much better off. Moony usually shed an aura of power, of danger. The wolf was so thin however you could see the outline of every bone. Even the fur that had once been thick, curly and  lush was now thinner. It had lost it’s chestnut brown gleam. It stood darker with more streaks of grey. He looked shabby. A gaunt look followed his features, even as a wolf.

His head wasn’t held high as usual, it drooped. His amber eyes didn’t gleam, they looked exhausted, all shine to them forgotten. He looked so different, even just from the previous moon.

Moony collapsed on a heaving breath. James saw how his chest fell and rose too quickly. Even the wolf looked like a corpse. Moony tried to move his legs but they merely twitched. A pitying howl was torn from him. Blood was still dripping down him.

It hurt to watch him so broken. Yes he had shut off but he had never broken like truly broken into pieces. He had always been so poised and possessed. James had never even seen him cry. He had missed him so much those last three weeks.

Peter had curled into a ball on their dormitory floor and cried. Sirius had screamed, paced, ripped at his hair, before collapsing against the stone wall. Tears had streamed like a waterfall down his cheeks.

James had been stunned, shocked even. Their Moony was going to die. He was in Azkaban, the most horrid place in the world. Where one had to relive the worst days of your life over and over until you went insane. Until you begged for death. That is where their sweet Moony was. He had already suffered so much, the dementor's would surely have a field day making him remember everything. 

James was so devastated. Still he tried to keep himself in check enough to make sure the others were still breathing. It was hard to tell, they didn’t leave their beds. He force fed them. The headmaster had allowed them to remain for the execution, missing the Hogwarts train. 

He had tried to change his fate. His parents had reached out to every connection they had to try and free him but to no avail.

All he wanted to do was break the glass and be with him. He wanted to pet his fur and tell him he would get him out of there. James wanted to give the human Remus chocolate and watch his face light up. Watch him regain his usual hue, the life returning to his eyes.

Moony raised his head and looked at them all in turn. His gaze had always been so intelligent, so wise. When he was in stag form he could smell his earthy wolfy scent. So Remus just enhanced.

Moony had never looked so much like Remus though. When he surveyed his best friends, his family. He looked at Peter first who was on the left of James.

Moony bared his teeth in a week smile, his eyes twinkling sadly. He gave a weak howl.

Then he turned his eyes to James. They were wide and earnest. His face said more than any words could. The smile he sported was sad, bearing years of hardship.

“I will miss you too” he whispered, his voice breaking.

Moony looked like he would cry if he could. He turned his eyes to Sirius whose eyes were bright with unshed tears. Love that was all that could be said about Moony’s look at Sirius. His eyes were so wide and his smile had dropped. The howl that came from him was filled with so much emotion. Sirius mouth was hanging open.

He was still angry with Sirius yet Remus impending execution dimmed it.

Moony’s head fell down with exhaustion. A strawberry blond haired witch and a brunette wizard entered the bearing cell. They had a protective bubble cast around them.

Moony’s teeth was beared and he tried to move for them but he was too weak. The witch laughed, a wicked but melodical sound.

They swiftly put him on the stone table. The wizard tightened the straps against all of his limbs. Moony twisted weakly but no luck, he was stuck.

The witch raised her wand and in swift precise movement the hair covering his body was cut to the ground.

“Werewolf pelts are worth hundreds of galleons. Good not to waste a golden opportunity” cooed a sneering voice behind them.

They turned to see a wizard with bronze hair and hazel eyes leer at Moony on the table.

“That is a person!” James argued, anger billowing in him.

He shrugged and walked away without another word. It disgusted him how people saw werewolves.

Moony only had fur covering his head, the rest of his beautiful hair was on the stone floor. Scars were all over him. His ribs stood out so much you could see the distinction between each and every one of them. You could see every bone, every organ. His skin looked like it would tear open if you touched it with your mere finger.

The wizard raised a blade. Without further or due he dug it into the skin of Moony’s back. He cut off a huge square.

Peter stiffened beside him. James and Sirius both screamed at the same time, banging their fists on the glass wall. Only it didn’t break, it didn’t even get a fracture.

Two guards ripped them back. Hands digging into his arms. They attempted to drag them from the room but they both conceded.

“Fine” they both muttered angrily.

The witch took forth a needle and a bandage. She carefully bandaged the wound and then applied a needle to one of his paws.

The wizard removed the straps. Then they both hurried out of the room.

“What was in that needle?” Peter squeked at the witch.

“Adrenaline. It helps with werewolves wounds” she explained before they both dashed away.

Moony did indeed get more strength from the adrenaline only it might not have been a good thing. He scratched himself with renewed fervour.

**SIRIUS**

The night was long and hard. He was just able to stand there and watch him tear himself apart. All because of him. Remus had basically starved to death because of him. He would- no he couldn’t even think it. The world without Moony would be unbearable, all wrong.

Remus had still not woken up, half his back was revealed. Every one of his vertebras was visible. His scars stretching over them. All my fault he thought.

He had tried to bribe several people to free him but they had all refused, no matter how much he offered. He had offered all he had, still they denied his offer. His begging did nothing to sway them either. Heartless bastards.

Remus stirred. A wizard walked in and dressed him before reapplying the handcuffs that had been ripped apart when he transformed.

Remus turned so that Sirius could see his face. His face looked more like a skull, hollow dark pockets for his eyes, cheekbones more pronounced.

He opened his eyes. They were haunted. There was no numbness in them, no shutters. He wasn’t on another planet. Remus was here, in a living hell. They were as deep as the forests they used to run through at night. As deep as the the seven seas. Deeper than the Mariana trench.

Every moment felt like it could be the last. He knew their time was counted, knew that those eyes would soon be empty. Knew that his Moony- no he couldn’t think it, that would make it real, true. But it couldn’t be. The world couldn’t be so cruel as to remove one of the few good people that wandered the earth. Fate surely couldn’t be evil enough to claim his soul. Time couldn’t be such a wicked mistress as to depart him from them far to early. That was what he told himself anyway. It was all a bad dream. When he woke up Snape would be fine and breathing. He would sneer and Sirius would be so relived. So pleased to see him alive. Something he never could have imagined wishing.

The next moments passed in a blur. They all took a port key to a green grassy field. The sky was blue, not a cloud in sight. Orange, pink and purple were also in the fray, the yellow sun just over the horizon. Daisies grew in the acres of lawn green grass. He realised they were close to Hogwarts. The silhouette of the castle  a few hundred meters away. Hagrid’s pumpkin patch was not far either.

The ministry had claimed their wands upon entry and they still didn’t have them. It made him feel vulnerable. He had no chance of saving Remus.

A ministry official was directing them on where to stand. He paid him no mind.

A short man with a black hood and a large axe stood, grinning fanatically as he surveyed the broken form of their best friend.

His heart was beating frantically in his chest. This is happening he thought. Moony was really dying. That man might as well be the reaper. Remus lay on his knees, head down. He looked so weak, so surrendered to his fate. His back was shaking with terror.

“One less beast in this world” the executioner stated grimly as he brought the axe down in a clean strike. A jagged cut was made in Remus’s neck only his head didn’t come off.

It appeared as though the axe hadn’t been sharpened properly. Gore dripped down the sharpest edge of the weapon.

Before he could think he rushed forwards. Remus head fell in his lap. Sirius turned him around so that their eyes met.

He could feel the tears burning in his eyes and falling down his cheeks.

“I am sorry” he choked. Tears were forming in Remus eyes too.

“I am sorry too” his voice was low and weak.

“Moony” he just whispered, words failing him when he needed them the most.

“Don’t forget me. Please” he pleaded, tears streaming down his hollow cheeks. His blood was soaking through his pants. The little colour he had was draining rapidly.

“Of course not Moony. I will never forget you” Sirius breathed, a lump in his chest and in his throat.

“Live your life. Live it for me as I won’t be here” Remus whispered ever so softly. His voice was trailing away, growing quieter by  each syllable.

“I will miss you so much. I can’t live without you” he sobbed, running his fingers through Remus hair.

Remus eyes were searching him still, always searching.

“I will miss you too” Remus cried. They were both sobbing now.

“One last thing?” Remus asked, his eyes big and shiny.

“Anything at all” he breathed.

“Kiss me?” Remus voice was so weak so tired, so afraid.

He immediately bent down and gently pressed his lips to his. They had kissed only once before. Sirius didn’t even think before doing it now. Anything, anything for his Moony. His lips were so soft. Their last kiss had been hot and passionate but this one was gentle but desperate. Because they knew it was the last one they would ever share. They knew that all they could have been was gone. Lost forever. Mere seconds remaining of their time together.

“I forgive you” Remus whispered as he broke away. His voice was almost nonexistent.

“Bye Moony” he whispered, voice catching.

And Remus spoke no more. His eyes were glassy, not seeing the sky above, not seeing the tears dripping down on his face.

An iron maiden closing its fist around his heart. Such a beautiful place to die he thought. It was cruel how pretty it was. With the blood of the person he loved dripping on the ground. How evil the sun was for still shining when all light was gone, when Remus heart had stopped beating. Without his moon the world had gone all wrong. Nothing was right without him. Nothing was right without those eyes seeing straight into his soul. Nothing would ever be right again. Never again would he speak to him. Never again would he see his smirk. All lost by one sentence, one swing of an axe. So precious, so gone.

The marauders were no more. There could be no Marauders without Moony. They were just three boys mourning a part of them, ripped from the world. Mourning what would never be, what could have been. They were mourning their best friend, their brother, their family member. And in Sirius case the one they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with. The person they wanted to grow old with. But Remus would never grow old now, he would remain forever 16. He would never know the hardship of age, never get a job, graduate. Nothing, the only thing he would see was the earth around him. He would decompose under ground. They would never see each other again.

The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.

He would, no, could never forget Remus. Remus, the person he shared a stronger bond with then blood. Stronger than the earths rotation around the sun. Stronger than all they knew. Remus would be apart of him forever. Even as the other side jerked him from his grasp. Even as they pulled Remus away he would remember him. He would carry him with him always.