Hypnotic //Marauders//

1

Remus

I take a long drag on the cigarette in almost clutched between my fingers, I felt my hands slowly stop shaking to return to their slight tremor. I take a few more, allowing the smoke to fill both of my lungs. I can practically feel the cancer being created as I stand here. My eyes dart hurriedly from side to side, making absolutely sure that no one is anywhere close to the ally. I told Sirius and James I'd meet them at two so I still have a few minutes before I should go out. That's the one good thing about floo powder, you always smell like smoke after you use it. So far, my friends haven't been able to tell the difference between chimney smoke and the smoke in my hand. 

Rain is drizzling down as usual, I don't know why I didn't bring a coat. I'm not cold, but the rain dripping from my hair into my eyes is a little off-putting. The full-moon was a few weeks ago, everyone tells me not to let it define me, but how can I not let it? It affects me every night, worrying there may be a flaw in the plan. Worrying I got the dates wrong. What if my friends knew I wasn't coping, what if they knew about the constant fear? Even though I've already told them about me being a werewolf and they said they'd accept me, what if something changes?They'd desert me, leave me, and probably turn on me until I became someone like Snape. Worse than Snape, Snape at least has Lily. Lily, and his other disturbed friends in Slytherin. 

A single tear falls from my eyes and my hands start to shake violently, I can hear screams start to fill my head again. I push the cigarette back into my mouth, sucking in smoke as fast as I can. Everyone says it's so easy to just say no to these things. How can I say no when the alternative is a life filled with torture from demons that only live in my head? James wouldn't understand if I tried to explain this to him, he's lived the easiest life of any of us. Sirius has his own problems, he'd ask me why and that road leads to dangerous places. And Peter? He can't keep a secret for his life, so he's completely out. I hear shuffling near one of the trash bins towards the bright bustling street. I drop the cigarette and my hand instinctively pulls out my wand. 

I step on my cigarette, making sure it's out, as I cautiously approach the noise. I don't see anyone so I hope it's just a rat. I look at the stub of my once burning addiction and sigh, deciding not to light a new one. I want to so badly, I want to feel that slight release I get wishing I could get more and more until I didn't know what it was like to feel trapped. Most people would classify that longing as an addiction. I classify it as an escape. As long as it's always there, always making sure nothing gets too bad, I can live with being classified as an "addict". 

I step out into the street and blink several times at the bright clouds. The sun isn't even out, but the ally's tall walls blocked the majority of the light coming through the clouds. There was still a bit of a drizzle, but I could tell it wouldn't last much longer. I glanced at my watch and then looked up again. I must've misread my watch earlier because I have at least thirty-five minutes to spare before they get here, and knowing the Potters they'll be late.

I notice a sign in Flourish & Blotts, new books. Perfect. I'll go find an interesting book grab it and sit in the corner. Maybe I'll be really bold and get a coffee, I heard that it's actually pretty good. Staring at my feet, I walk through the crowds towards the bookstore. Right as I start to turn into the entrance, I collide head on with someone. My face turns bright red as my eyes fly up to meet her distinctly grey ones. I stare in shock at her for a minute completely entranced with her eyes. They look so similar, it was as if I'd looked into those eyes hundreds of thousands of times, but I couldn't place where I'd seen them.

"Uh..." The girl stares at me pointedly. I feel my face go even more red, I honestly didn't know it was possible. She smiles slightly but I can't get over her eyes.

"Hi," I say in barely more than a whisper. I can feel her eyes staring at the scars on my face. She's polite enough not to mention them, but I know she's looking at them. People always are. I notice a strong American accent, she obviously is from Ilvermorny, maybe visiting Diagon Alley for the day.