Four To The End (prev Shifting Lines) Book Three (Marauders Era)

Chapter Ten - Degenerate

Author's Note: CW for emetophobia and period accurate homophobia. For clarification David Bowie came out as gay in 1972. He said various things about his sexuality throughout the years, but at this point in time he was known as being gay.

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August had a four moon stretch, which was the fourth four moon stretch of the year—and thankfully the last for a while. Remus wasn't sure when it would happen again, just that it wouldn't anytime soon. He hated when the moon was full enough for four nights to change him. It wasn't fair and he didn't really understand why. Really, the full moon actually only lasted a very brief time at most so why couldn't it only be then he was a wolf? For a moment, a few moments a month. A few minutes when the moon was entirely and wholly full before he turned back human. That would be wonderful.

But no. He was cursed to change when the moon was illuminated enough to appear full, and that was absolute shit.

The first two nights in August weren't too bad. They were typical nights in which he woke up with his blood splashed everywhere and his flesh torn to shreds. Hope helped him to the bathtub both mornings, muttering that she thought he should get a proper bath. He used to get baths after transformations and boy did they feel good. However he stopped doing that when Madame Pomfrey found out he soaked in water with open, bleeding wounds and berated him

The third night he transformed twice, as the clouds covered and uncovered the moon, and on the fourth night he transformed four times. Transforming burned up a lot of energy, and since he hadn't eaten much (hadn't really eaten much at all since he thought... well, since the incident on the hot day) he lost a lot of weight.

"It isn't as bad as it was in February," he pointed out on Thursday morning when Hope made a comment about how thin he had gotten.

"Please God it never will be that bad again," she whispered, buttoning up his pajama top. His clothes hung very loose on his body. "I'll make you something very filling."

She returned soon after with a tray full of food, more food than he knew he could eat. He only managed to get some of it down; during one of his times as a wolf during the night he had left a long gash along his jaw and it was hard to open and close his mouth. While sausage and eggs were more filling, he rather wished his mother had gone for porridge. Something easier to get down that didn't require much chewing.

"Try to eat more," she urged, scooping some eggs onto a spoon and offering it to him.

"I don't like being fed," he grumbled, tilting his head away. He took the spoon from her and managed to eat the eggs. "I—I can't eat anymore." He was too tired and in too much pain. All he wanted to do was sleep.

Hope looked down at the food left over. "All right. You take a nap and I'll reheat some of this later. If you need anything let me know." She left the room, leaving both doors open so she could hear him if he shouted.

Remus yawned and rolled onto his side, fingers reaching up to brush against the bandage on his face before he fell into an uneasy sleep.

He stayed in his room all day and night, trying to force down as much food as possible whenever Hope brought him something to eat. She also tried to get him to talk about what was wrong. He insisted nothing was wrong (lie) and they ended up having a small row about it.

"You can talk to me!" she insisted, clutching his hand. "I'm your mother. I'm here for you!"

"There's nothing to talk about!" he protested. "Honestly!"

She gave him a long, sad look. "I wish you would be more open."

Remus swallowed, feeling nausea pressing in his throat, James's words echoing behind his mother's. Guilt bubbled up inside of him and he curled his fingers against the sheet. Was it really so wrong not to pour everything out? Was it so bad not to want to talk about every little thing? Not that he could, anyway.