Molten Moon

Molten Moon

The intrusive molten silver of the full moon lit a fiery path across the jail cell floor, dripping off the window sill in deadly tears. From my crouched position underneath my bed, I could see Her, the Lady of the Moon, sneering down at me from her high and heavenly perch. Swollen and devoid of shadow, she haunted my dreams, darkened my memories, coursed through my blood like shards of glass and rusted metal. I could feel her eyes on me even as I screwed my own shut against her invasive light.

“Go away,” I tried to whisper. But my voice was too tight, too fearful to make any sound other than a terrified squeak. Slowly, agonizingly, the moonbeam made its merry way across the dust covered floor, tracing a line through the lonely shadows. At every tiny movement it made, my heart jumped. Before long it was clanging so heavily against the back of my teeth that I feared to open my mouth, lest the scared and bloody organ escape.

Tiny, mischievous dust motes rose up in the hush of my jilted breath, catching in the back of my throat, tickling at my nose. I coughed, quietly, so as not to arouse the listening moon. The rush of air that left my lips threw dust into the open, into the path of moonlight. They danced playfully in the silver beam, the light whispering softly atop them until they resembled no more than glittering little stars.

I was surprised; I had expected the dust to be engulfed in angry flame, I had expected to see a raging bonfire before me. Curious, I swept a small pile of dirt into my shaking palm, and tossed it out from underneath the safety of my bed. Once again the motes danced gaily, no sign of fire reaching my widening eyes.

‘It isn’t possible,’ I thought. ‘It can’t be.’ For a long moment I hesitated under the sagging beams of my bed, before I came to a decision. My bones cracked as I pulled myself out, a tired and sore groan reaching my lips. The moon-cast beam of light stood before me, twinkling innocently between two towering walls of black shadow. My heart hammered as I stood, poised, on the edge of it. Fingers clenched themselves into resolute fists at my side, and my face wrenched up in anticipation of pain, as I dived into the silver stream.

For a split second I thought I had died, so immense was the rush of serenity that flooded my head. My eyes flew open to a sea of silver. I was still alive.

The light drenched me like a cloak of silk, cool and haughty against my skin. Merrily it skirted down my arms, eliciting goose-bumps and shivers. My head hung in defeat; my arms dangled loosely at my sides, fingers unclenched. The crushing hand of hatred pressed into my burning chest, steering all my pain and frustration at the swollen queen outside my window.

Eyes flashing, I raised my head, dark and tangled hair blocking half my sight. All I could see through the ragged curtain of knotted strands, was Her. The Moon.

“I hate you,” I hissed, voice regained in my wave of enmity. “I hate how your light simply slides off my flesh, how it caresses me and tears him to pieces.” She winked at me, round face etched with holes and draped with sugar-spun clouds.

I gave a dry sob, a memory ripping through me.

Remus and I lay in a patch of soft grass, a sweet spring breeze drifting over us. Remus rolled over onto his stomach, clutching a tattered book entitled ‘Blood Moon’. I scratched idly at my stomach, gazing at the boy next to me with a soft smile.

“You look so cute when you read,” I told him. He raised his amber eyes to mine and blushed.

“Oh?” he replied. “And why is that?”

“Because you look so intense, so focused. And your nose gets all scrunchy.” Remus rubbed at his nose self-consciously, setting the book down.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” he asked suspiciously. I laughed, rolling onto my back and putting my hands under my head.

“Puh-lease,” I scoffed, smiling up at the sky. “As if there’s any need.”

“So you’re not going to seduce me?” He shifted his body so that he was facing me, and pouted. I raked my hands through his light brown hair, amazed at how soft it was.

“Do I detect a bit of disappointment, Moony?”

“No,” he said, pulling me closer to him. “ You detect a lot of disappointment.” Gently he pushed my hair out of my eyes and kissed me lightly on the corner of my mouth. “You know,” he began softly, “your nose is really cute too.” He gently nipped the tip of it. I squirmed beneath him, trying to maneuver myself into a more– profitable position.“But then, all of you is cute.”

I grinned up at him, my heart hammering. “How can you say that? You haven’t even seen all of me.”

His eyes widened, and I could feel his heartbeat quicken beneath my palm. “Maybe it’s time I finally do,” he said so softly I could barely hear him. And then he pressed his lips against mine, almost as soft as his earnest whisper.

Tears stung at my eyes as I thought back to that day in our seventh year. After that we had raced back to our dorm, locking the doors with numerous charms, and shedding our clothes. It had been our first time together, his first time ever.

A jolt of anger shred across my heart, flaring my burning abhorrence of the moon. More memories flooded me. Remus throwing me away from him as the full moon touched his back, fearful that he should hurt me in his wolfish state. Remus crying to himself as he washed out self inflicted wounds, sharp grazes and deep cuts caused by his own claws. Remus looking at me, joy sparkling in his eyes. Remus stretching in the morning, hair tousled. Remus growling playfully, mocking the wolf inside him. Remus whispering a last goodbye with his amber eyes. Remus watching me leave.

“I had to go,” I said through clenched jaws, burning eyes focused on the moon. “It wasn’t my choice.” But the moon laughed at me, her silvery voice plainly saying I could have found a way to be with him, that I could have stopped the tumble of darkness that tore us apart.

“How can you be so cruel to him?” I yelled at her. “How can you break every bone in his body? How can you make him scream in such pain? How can you do it? How?” My voice rose, soared, cracked. I fell into a shuddering heap on the floor. And as I sat, too weak to stand, Remus was running somewhere, howling and searching for something to eat. Something live; something that would ooze blood in his fanged jaws.

Maddeningly the sparkling dust motes shivered in front of my clouded eyes, dancing to a tune I wished I could hear. I lifted my hand slowly, to point an accusing finger at the white smirk of the moon. Dust and dirt and moonlight swirled around my palm, kissing it lightly until I closed my fist around it all and squeezed.

“How can you be so cruel to him?” I whispered, my voice a quivering little bird lost in the storm of starlit shadows. “And so indifferent to me?”

I sat there, in a half-crouched fetal position for several hours, simply staring at the gloating sphere with more hatred in my eyes than any mortal could possess. Finally, the sky began to blush pink and gold, as the cheerful sun rose. The Lady of the Moon departed in a wave of starlight, with a wink and a sneer. Until next month, she laughed, sinking beneath the rim of the earth.

Somewhere out there, Remus was regaining his humanity. I closed my eyes tiredly, watching the movie on the inside of my eyelids.

He rose, battered and bleeding , a pained gasp pushing past his lips as he inspected his bruised palms. A slanted beam of sunlight fell across his face, and he closed his eyes, reveling in the warmth and protection it offered. Slowly he stretched his exhausted limbs, fingers skirting the torn flesh. He looked skyward, to the sun, and he knew, he knew I was watching him. He knew I still cared.

But that didn’t stop him from feeling betrayed, lost, and oh-so hurt. That didn’t stop him from hating me.

And that ripped me apart.