Carve Me Open / r.l. + s.b. /

Dreadful

"And when you ask the world, 'Who ever loved me?' / I will be there to say, 'I did.'"
-via i.v.

Edits Complete as of March 16, 2022

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Hogwarts, September 1974 (Fourth Year)

Life continued on for Remus Lupin, despite his new tag and a blazing loathing for anything that moved, and before he could utter wolfsbane, it was time to return to Hogwarts for his fourth year. He attempted to distract himself with little things that most students do only days before returning for the next term, like saving enough for this year's books or arranging his robes in the hopes that they'd eventually stretch past his calves.

It appeared to work for a time. There was no awareness of the hurting tag on the back of his neck or the wrath he felt against his father burning in his breast. There were no reservations about his current encounter with Sirius, and he wasn't afraid of approaching Julienne again after her rather unpleasant separation from Lily. Everything was crumbling apart.

But, of course, this was at the beginning, and, as all good things do, this resolution came to an end. As his impending homecoming approached, he could feel those irritating reflexes eroding his peace of mind, especially since his father had opted to spend some quality time with his newly registered kid. The others were beginning to disintegrate as one wall was severely battered by the person he despised the most in the world.

Lyall assumed that he'd accompanied Remus to Diagon Alley that year, a pleasure Remus usually shared with his closest friends, and he'd gone to great lengths to purchase Remus' forgiveness, if it wasn't painfully evident. Remus was ready for his fourth year, from new dress robes to a brand-new cauldron. There was no question about it. He'd acquired new parchment, new quills and ink, textbooks, and a gleaming telescope for Astronomy. On the plus side, he was finally able to dedicate his old cauldron to their Animagus potion.

They'd had to restart six times so far, and if Remus thought his patience had been tested previously, he was in for a real treat with this torture. If it wasn't Peter forgetting about the Mandrake leaves, it was James who left his phial in the heat. Sirius, no pun intended, was the only one who seemed to be considering this idea seriously. He'd gotten up on time every morning, committed a strand of his treasured hair to his concoction, honed his phial's hiding location, and even bought a Wizarding Almanac to anticipate when their next lightning storm would strike.

It would've appeared that the only productive thing James and Peter had done was volunteer the idea.

Sirius, on the other hand, was the only one who couldn't do the assignments during the summer, and the others were prepared for such a blow. Walburga, according to a jumbled correspondence, forbade Sirius access to a cauldron, let alone her hallowed potions. Remus would rather have waited the full length of their vacation and started over than have Sirius risk his life for something that might not have even worked.

With that in mind, the boys spent their vacation researching strategies for calming Werewolves during their changes. James had discovered, thanks to the magnificent Potter library, that smoking a bundle of wolfsbane in the same manner one would burn sage would have a sedating effect on the Werewolf. This strategy, however, may have had the opposite effect, and by the time Madame Pomfrey found him in the morning, he'd be dead on the floor of the screaming hut with a bloated face and swollen fingers. Remus declined graciously.

Peter insisted that having another party in the room with Remus was the only way to keep the metamorphosis under control. This party, once again, would have to be an animal of some kind, as the Wolf would target a human if given the opportunity. But, once again, Remus respectfully declined. There was no point in endangering an innocent life in the hopes that his transformations would become less painful; he could live with it.