The Heart of Night

Heart of the Night

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Suffer

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1 Moon

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The pull of the moon was getting stronger by every passing day. Severus feared it, because he knew very well what that meant. What it meant to Lupin, and now to him.

The full moon was getting nearer. And, along with it, his first transformation was approaching. The mere thought terrified him. The event itself, and even its mere approaching, was enough to make him tremble in fear alone in his bed at nights.

Even though the full moon made Severus terrified, it also fascinated him in a morbid way he didn't even wish to understand. Deep inside he felt wrong about it. How could it be right to almost, even though not really, wait for becoming a monster? Of course he knew he wouldn't become a monster, not really -- he had that much trust in his own potion.

It had taken some strong will to brew the Wolfsbane Potion, knowing that he'd have to drink it himself, too. Albus had helped him with a wistful smile, pouring exactly the required amount of Wolfsbane to the potion. There was an amount of it in the potion just small enough for a werewolf to consume safely when it was slightly covered by the effects of the other ingredients. However, a teaspoonful more when the potion was still in the brewing, and they'd both been severely poisoned from the first goblet they drank. Half a teaspoon of the raw Wolfsbane not neutralized by the potion to their food, and they'd be lying in St. Mungo's, if not downright dead. The Wolfsbane in its unhandled form was just as poisonous to werewolves as silver was, and it couldn't be made completely harmless with any concoctions.

Lupin had been right about it, anyway. The potion did taste foul. Unfortunately, like he'd originally explained to Lupin with the slightest hint of malicious mirth, sugar would make it ineffective. In his mind, however, he vowed to find a way to take the taste away. It was simply revolting, and he had a suspicion that it would be even worse when he'd gone through his first transformation and got those "superhuman" senses. That was certainly not a pleasant thought. He'd had to force himself into drinking each dose to the very last drop. He would stay in control.

Severus knew very well that he was obsessive about self-control. It was the thing he adored and aimed at. Having spent most of his life in somebody else's control -- at first under his abusive father's fist, then in Voldemort's ranks -- he'd felt like a bird let out of a cage when he'd finally turned back to Light and become a teacher at Hogwarts. And in that brand new feeling of freedom, he'd built himself a new cage. It had been no less strong or unbreakable than the ones he'd experienced before, but at least it had been something that he had created, something that he had wanted, and had control over.

The first few years he'd had a strict schedule made separately for each day. Not only did he always get up and go to sleep the same time, which was rather usual, or write down his lessons. No, he'd even planned how he'd spend his evenings after the classes. He still possessed some of his notes from that time. There'd been new and yet new rows of his neat, small handwriting, always telling himself what to do and when, every quarter of an hour planned separately.

When Poppy'd noticed his schedule-keeping and told him to relax, fearing that he might burn himself out, he'd in fact managed to relax. Very little, yes, but still a bit. After this almost complete control over the appearance of his life had been taken from him by the concerned mediwitch, he'd again concentrated on the inner control he'd had to solely develop in his horrible years of younghood, as the control of his mind was something that nobody could take from him -- not after he'd got past a certain point in his training, at the very least.

And nowadays, he was a master Occlumencs and Legilimens. He had all his emotions tightly in check. Never would an inappropriate word pass his lips, never would he show any weakness to anybody, so nobody could use them against him. To most of the world he didn't have any weaknesses. And, of course, he'd managed to keep Voldemort out of his mind for years. He knew he'd managed -- if Voldemort had learnt about his treachery from Severus himself, the Potions Master wouldn't have lived enough to even properly realize his mental barriers had been penetrated.

But now, the wolf was trying to take control. Severus knew it was going to do just that; he could already feel its rage in the back of his mind, even though it was mostly dimmed by the Wolfsbane Potion. He could only imagine what Lupin's life had been like before the Wolfsbane Potion. Not only this fear of losing control, but really losing it entirely -- every month? It was too terrifying to even think of. And, despite the fact that he indeed trusted his own potion, Severus couldn't help his nervousness. A thousand "what if"s rolled in his mind, and none of those possibilities had pleasant consequences.

But the full moon night drew nearer. And then, almost suddenly, it was the time to drink the last dose of Wolfsbane.

"Cheers," Lupin said dryly, raising the goblet. Avoiding his gaze, Severus raised his own. Then they both downed the potion as soon as possible. Both knew that if they stopped drinking, they could never force themselves to drink the rest of it.

When they put their goblets down, they avoided each other's eyes. Both knew what would come, and they didn't like it one bit. Lupin was afraid of an excruciating pain he knew to be coming to him, Severus was afraid of something he couldn't even begin to understand, but would soon experience personally.

Not even glancing at Severus, Lupin, acting on some unspoken agreement, left the Potions Master's quarters. Now alone, and knowing that the moonrise was getting nearer by every passing second, Severus did exactly like he'd been told. Slowly he stripped himself of his robes, folding them neatly. Then he put aside his trousers, his tie, his shirt... In the end, he stood in the middle of his living room, completely naked, and really grateful that nobody would ever come near the dungeons with two werewolves running free there. Of course they wouldn't be dangerous, but Albus had insisted that they should be left in peace, like Lupin had always been left in peace during Potter's third year, as people around made the wolf nervous.

So, he was alone, naked, and cold. Then he saw the first flicker of light as the full moon began to climb to the dark night sky.

And that was when the pain began.

It was a thousand times worse than even Cruciatus. It was a thousand times worse than anything he'd ever experienced before. He felt like somebody had taken a tight grip on his limbs and tried to tear him apart, like his bones had been replaced by molten lava, like his blood was boiling in his veins. His bones formed into their new shapes, his muscles were rearranged. Both the unbearable pain and the inability to stand on his two feet anymore dropped him to the floor. In some secluded corner of his mind he was aware that he was whining, whining pitifully in pain, but the rest of him was unable to care as he had to concentrate just on bearing the pain. His skull was torn to form a new shape to his head, his mouth was stretched into a snout, his hands and feet became paws alike. Fur spurted out of his skin, and a tail made its way out of his bottom. Everything in him melted, moved, took a new shape --

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the transformation was away. He was a wolf. Four perfectly functioning paws, a tufted tail, a slim form. And a raging wolf in the back of his mind, covered by an odd dullness that he knew to be the effect of the Wolfsbane Potion.

But even though the transformation had gone, the pain hadn't. Every place in him ached. There was no inch of his skin that hadn't itched, not a bone in his body that hadn't been broken. There was simply not a muscle that would move at the moment, except for the rapid rising and falling of his chest and his wildly running heart as his body tried to adjust to this new form.

Then, the door was pushed halfly open. A timid-looking, golden brown he-wolf slipped into the room. He was a lot smaller than Severus, but there was an aura of power around him that told that this wolf wasn't just a whining cub. Or it wouldn't have been, should it only not have been so resigned right from the beginning.

Severus didn't care for the reason of why the other wolf was so quiet and resigned. All he wanted was something to take his boiling emotions out on. <This is your fault!> he growled, his head spinning with pain and confusion. <You bit me!>

<Yes,> the other wolf replied, bending his head down in shame. <It is all my fault.>

<Go away,> he commanded strictly. <I don't want to sense the faintest sign of you.>

And the other wolf obeyed, leaving Severus alone with his pain and agony.

~*~*~*~

1 Moon, 1 Night

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A point. Two lines, right next to each other. A slight curve to the longer line...

"Drawing, Severus?" A calm voice startled him, and he almost dropped the quill he had in his hand. Glancing up from the parchment in his lap, Severus saw Lupin standing next to his bed.

"What does it look like?" he asked snappishly. Then he sighed deep, looking again at the quick sketch of a dragon he'd managed to create on the parchment. "It helps me to concentrate on something else than the pain," he said then quietly. "Even though it can't take it away."

His words were unfortunately true. Even though Poppy had managed to stuff him so full of healing potions that he was sure they'd soon be coming out of his ears, he was still in constant pain. It wasn't as bad as the actual transformation to a wolf had been -- what could ever be that bad? -- or even the slightly less painful change back into his human body, but it was still pain, and a lot more of it than he was accustomed to dealing with for a longer time than what was needed to get a suitable potion to his hands. Seemingly even though healing potions were indeed working on full force to help his torn muscles and bones recover, painkillers had no effect on the aftereffects of a werewolf transformation.

"The first time is always the worst," Lupin said very quietly. "Your body has never before gone through this. It'll get a bit easier later."

"I do hope so," he said weakly. "It hurts. It hurts all over." He closed his eyes, trying to close the pain out as well. He didn't see anything, but he heard. And smelled.

He heard the steady rhythm of Lupin's heart beating. He caught a bird's singing from the outside. And he smelled the chocolate on his nightstand, the parchment he had been doodling on, the outside air and Lupin's fresh smell.

He crumbled his eyebrows. He couldn't yet say how everything was supposed to smell like, but something wasn't right in Lupin's scent. Something stuck out, making him unable to feel totally comfortable.

Then the wolf part of him recognized it. Lupin was scared. Scared of him, to be exact.

He was confused. What on earth had he done? He ran through the events of the last night in his head. He remembered the transformation, the pain, and...

"Lupin!" he snapped, making the other man nearly jump in the air. "I didn't mean my words last night. I was too much in pain to think reasonably. Do you hear? I didn't mean them!"

"But they're true," Lupin whispered, turning his gaze away. "It is my fault, Severus. My bloody fucking fault!"

Severus flinched. It wasn't often he had heard Lupin swear. Never, to be precise. "It wasn't your fault!" he hissed, choosing to ignore the pain this action brought to his throat. "It's Voldemort's fault. Blaming yourself, you'll only give him what he most wants: a weapon to force the Order apart. The only motive behind my words last night was my desperate need to blame someone on hand. I didn't mean it, Lupin. I didn't!"

"That's the nearest to an apology I've ever heard from you," Lupin said with a little, tired smile. "I'm surprised, Severus. Are you beginning to get soft and weak on your old days?"

"I'm two months younger than you. And besides, I am weak at the moment," he reminded sharply. "I can't get on my feet! What else is that but weakness?" Weak. And hurt. Merlin, it hurt so much.

"Tiredness?" Lupin suggested. Then he smiled again, now more brightly than before. "You know, Severus, I highly doubt that Madam Pomfrey has poisoned that chocolate. You should eat it."

"Okay, Mum," he sighed annoyedly, rolling his eyes. "But only if you take it as well."

"No way!" Lupin exclaimed, raising his hand in a gesture to refuse. "I've already eaten mine, and you need as much of it as possible."

"Sure. Why you don't smell of chocolate, then?" he snorted. "Take some of it, Lupin. Right now. If you don't, I'll be very upset - and you don't want me to get upset in my condition, do you?"

Lupin smiled slightly, although his smile seemed to be very sad and tired. "I know better than to make a werewolf upset," he replied. Then he shrugged and took a bit of chocolate. After several glares from Severus he at last sighed and divided the chocolate to two equal piles, taking one of them himself.

"That's better," Severus said, crossing his arms in satisfaction. He had to remove his arms from their position as he flinched in pain when he did that. "And now eat it. Don't you dare to put it back to my pile!"

"I wouldn't even dream of it," Lupin replied hastily. He had a bit guilty expression on his face. "And I'll eat if you will."

"Damned Gryffindor pride," Severus murmured before taking a hunk of chocolate and sinking his teeth into it.

Lupin was right. It helped, a great deal. It somehow eased his pain and even made his breathing easier. He closed his eyes, enjoying the taste of chocolate.

"I see you're beginning to understand what it is with me and chocolate," he heard Lupin's slightly amused voice. Severus didn't bother to reply. He just chewed the brown candy, feeling soft warmth spreading all around his body. It felt good. Merlin, it felt good.

Maybe he was becoming a chocoholic himself.

He suddenly regretted every time he had ever teased Lupin about his affection. He now understood it all. With chocolate in his mouth he could almost completely forget the agony of the transformation. Now he felt much more comfortable, less hurt, more... human.

After all his recent experiences, that feeling was much more important to him than anything else. To feel his humanity, that he was in control. The chocolate he had eaten calmed down the still roaring wolf inside him, gave him back his usual calmness and self-control, let him feel normal. Feel human.

At last he got his mouth empty of the candy. He opened his eyes slowly and looked at Lupin, who seemed to still be slightly amused. "I think," he said slowly, "I think I understand."

Then he reached out his hand to take another bit.

*