Under the Moonlight

Tears Won't Stop

      Walking out of Flourish and Blotts, after receiving my books for first year, I couldn't help think about Roselina. The way I had met her had surely been a shock, her brown hair slowly changing into a light pink, a blush flaming against her cheeks. I smiled, thinking of the recent memory, before I slammed into a wall. Looking up, I saw that it was no wall I had run into, but Professor Dumbledore, his broad figure looming over me. Chuckling to himself, he extended his hand, allowing me to grab it and pull myself up off the cobblestone road. Wiping the dirt off of my bum, I looked up at Dumbledore, planning to thank him.

      "Ah, Mr. Lupin, you are still here?" he questioned, cutting off my beginning of praise to him. Nodding in response, I picked up the items that lay next to my feet on the ground. Bending over, I clutched the items, my upside on my fingers grazing the cobblestone, a tugging sensation on my skin. Standing back up, straightly, I looked at my soon-to-be headmaster, who looked at me with concern filled eyes. I cocked my head to the side, curious to why he was looking at me that way. "How are your," Dumbledore began asking, eyes fluttering around, before he bent his down to me, "transformations, Remus?" Shrugging, I looked away, afraid to answer the question, because I knew that I was a monster. "None to painful? Or tiring?" Dumbledore persisted, wanting me to answer him, concern beginning to lace his voice as well. I shrugged once more, wincing as pain shot down my arm from my most recent wound. Looking at me with disbelief in his eyes, Professor reached for my sleeve, pulling up my long sleeved shirt, the shirt rubbing against my bandage, causing me to wince once more. "Hm. I shall get Poppy to make you a pain-reliever potion," he muttered under his breath, before repeating it again, but louder, as so I could hear it.

      "Professor, why are you being nice to me? I'm a monster," I whispered, the question barely leaving my mouth. Dumbledore looked at me with saddened eyes, his blue eyes becoming tearful.

      "I am doing this, because you are not the monster, Remus. Fenrir Greyback is the monster for doing this to you, and to other children and people everywhere. You did not decide this matter, therefore it is not your fault," Dumbledore explained, his voice slowly rising in volume, causing me to look around with wide eyes. I did not want anyone to hear about my monstrosity. Thanking him for everything he has done, I proclaimed that I had to leave, seeing as I had received all of my school materials. Walking quickly away from Dumbledore, I bowed my head, trying to hide the tears that began forming in my eyes. Reaching the gateway that led from Diagon Alley to The Leaky Cauldron, I rest my head against the cool red brick, tears prickling at my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Shaking away the oncoming tears, I shook my head, before holding it up high. I held most of my school materials in my arms, walking into the Leaky Cauldron.

      Sitting upon one of the tables, I waited for my father to arrive to pick me up. Looking around, the smell of alcohol was strong in the air, people sitting at the bar-top waiting for Tom to serve them drinks. He was the landlord but also the barkeep, providing rooms and drinks to those you either wanted one or needed one. The smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol hung in the air, my eyes watering even more now, and an itch to spread in my throat. The door to the pub opened, a gentle breeze wafting in through it, causing me to look up. My father walked in, his eyes scanning the crowd, looking for me. Setting his gaze on me, he beckoned to me with his head, before I grabbed my belongings in my arms, and strode over to him. Shaking his head in disgust, my father muttered about how he couldn't believe he agreed to meet him here. My father did not want to meet me here, but did so with my mother's wishes, seeing as she knew about the Leaky Cauldron. Walking out of the pub, I breathed in a breath of fresh air, glad to be rid of the cigarette smoke-filled area.

      "So, Remus, got all of your school supplies?" my father asked, tense from the encounter with the Leaky Cauldron, but curious all the same. Nodding, I gestured towards me arms filled with supplies. Noticing my struggle, my father looked around, before carefully pulling out his wand, and shrinking down all of the materials in my arms, making them immediately easier to carry. Smiling, I walked beside my father, all of my miniature school supplies snuggled safely into my arms. My hair hung down in my eyes, with me blowing every few seconds to move them away, only for the piece of hair to swing back into place. Huffing slightly to myself, I gave up, dealing with the piece of hair that blocked my view. Walking into an alley with my father, I saw him open the door to a building. Following him inside, after he gestured to me, I saw that we were in a wonderful building, with marble floors, and beautiful varnished staircases. Pillars stood all around us, and I was scared to touch anything, for fear of getting it dirty.

      "Dad? What are we doing here?" I asked timidly, my eyes fluttering around to look for anything and anyone. He dismissed my question, instead walking over to a group of people who suddenly appeared across the room. Striding over to them quickly, my father extended his hand for another man's, pulling him into a hug, whispering into his ear. I heard the words "Floo powder" and "Muggle". "Please tell me we are not in a Muggle house, Dad!" I whispered, hope under my voice. Looking at me, my father simply shook his head, causing me to look down in a disappointed gaze. I did not want to be here, especially in a home by lived in by a Muggle. We were invading their personal space, and their lives. I felt horrible. Feeling a tugging sensation on my arm, I looked up to see my father's hand wrapped around my wrist. He pulled on my arm, dragging me to the fireplace that was suddenly lit. Grabbing a silvery bag out of his pocket, my father opened it, revealing a green powder that I knew to be Floo Powder.

      "We'll be using this fireplace to get back home. I've asked the Ministry to connect this home to the Floo Network for an hour. The hour began forty-five minutes ago. We need to be leaving soon," my father explained, allowing me no time to ask any further questions. Following my father's lead, I grabbed a handful of the mysterious powder, yelling out my address, before stepping into the once orange, red, and yellow flames. The large green flames circled me in a blanket of warmth that did not affect me. I swirled and seemed to leap across time, before exiting in my fireplace, coming face to face with my father, who extended out an arm to stabilize me. Gasping, I stumbled over my two feet, my school supplies falling out of my arms, and scattering over the floor. The realization of what I just did suddenly dawned on me, tears beginning to form in my eyes, a small red line forming underneath. I choked back sobs, quickly picking up all of my supplies, bundling them in my arms. Dashing up to my room, I bolted inside, slamming the door behind me. Tossing my supplies onto the bed, I stumbled over to the corner, curling up into a ball. I winced at the pain shooting through my arm from my wound, as the muscles tightened. Wrapping my arms around my legs, I pulled myself into a tighter ball, resting my head on my knees. Staring off into the distance at the pale beige of my bedroom walls, tears began falling down my cheeks, leaving tear-tracks leading from my eyes. 

      "Why did this have to happen to me?" I questioned myself aloud, already knowing the answer. I was sick of the painful transformations I had to endear very single month at the full moon. I was sick of developing a new scar every time. I couldn't stand the cloud of concern that my parents held over me every time I started to look sickly. I was monster, and I knew that, no matter what my parents said to me. I was filled with doubt every time I even thought of someone new becoming my friend. I always wondered what they would think of me if they found out I was a werewolf. I was scared that if someone got to close to me, I would potentially hurt them. Roselina was the first person I thought about becoming friends with in a long time, but I couldn't hurt her. I wouldn't hurt anyone. Tears streaked down my face, but I wasn't ashamed of crying. I needed to get rid of the overwhelming grief that filled every crevice of my eleven-year-old mind. I willed to tears to stop, even though I wasn't ashamed of them. I needed yo get over my "special problem" and learn to live with it. I should've by now, it's been seven years full of painful transformations and new wounds, and concerned looks. The tears wouldn't stop, though. I think the tears won't ever stop.