Temporary

Temporary

By K. M. Grzechnik

She always possessed a serene look when she slept. Even through the days of the war, when loved ones were falling day by day and victory seemed a mere fantasy, her face fell calm when she slept. I asked her about it once, how she could sleep so calmly when the world was falling apart around her. Even the most respectable people suffer through nightmares in times like these. Her reply was simple. Her dreams let her escape from reality. In her dreams, there was no war or Voldemort, there was peace and freedom, everyone who fell was still alive and well, and everyone was happy. This is the world we all longed for, this was the world that only came to her when she slept.

Here she was, sleeping so soundly, making it impossible for me to wake her from her slumber. How could I rob an angel of her heaven? Sure, the war was over and peace was being restored throughout the world, but some scars will never heal. The people lost will never come back. Though the future appeared bright, it would never be the celestial place she obtained in her dreams.

Watching her soft, steady breathing makes me want to stay, makes me not want to leave at all. Unfortunately, after all the strings that have been pulled for my sake, I had no choice. All those people working tirelessly to diminish the prejudice towards my kind, especially those that fell during the war, deserved to see me take full advantage of my situation. It was a rare occasion that a werewolf be requested to give guest lectures on Defense Against the Dark Arts throughout the magical academies of Europe. This trip would take me everywhere: Spain, France, Germany, Italy, Poland, Greece, Finland, and Bulgaria. So many wonderful places to see, yet I know that seeing them without her would make it worthless.

She stirred in her sleep and slowly opened her chocolate eyes. I smiled as I pushed back a tendril of bushy brown hair. She smiled back, although it was not sincere. She knew I was leaving, she knew that in a few minutes I would depart and not return for three months. Three long months of not seeing her beautiful smile is an equivalent of eternity in hell.

It still amazes me how easily she accepted and loved me. To her, my lycanthropy was nothing but a minor monthly drawback. "If you can deal with my premenstrual stress once a month, then I can deal with your transformation," she said in her defense. She really did turn into a wreck once a month, snapping at anyone who said or did something that did not please her, but I love her regardless. Nonetheless, natural feminine symptoms cannot be compared to my curse, yet she loves me regardless. Bless her soul, I would be lost without her.

She sits up in the bed and I sit next to her. I embrace her with all my love, and she returns the gesture just as passionately. The bond between us is undeniable, no matter what distractions the outer world sees in our relationship. Love is love, regardless of age or "breed". I run my fingers through her hair as I kiss her forehead gently. Though our parting is difficult, there are no tears to be shed and no words to be spoken. Our feelings are indescribable and our parting only temporary. We know that shortly after my return she will become Mrs. Hermione Lupin and that we will be together forever. What are three months when you have your whole life ahead of you?