Symphony || Remus Lupin

XXV

Myra didn't sleep that night. She stayed up in her bed and drew furiously in her sketchpad to the point her pencil was a small stub in her hand. She went through pages and pages until she reached the last one. It didn't bother her. She doubted that she would pick up the sketchbook again. This time it was a form of getting her emotions out. Next time, all she would see was the image of Remus in her subconscious.

Drawing reminded her of him. His face was so symmetrical, his eyes perfectly almond-shaped. It was hard not to think about drawing him. She wanted to perfect herself with his face, to memorize it.

She knew that it would be a while before she picked up her art materials.

Halfway through the night, Myra closed her blinds. It plunged the dorm into pitch-black. Stumbling, she made her way back to the bed and sat against the headboard, holding her lit wand in her teeth to see what she was doing.

The full moon had made her eyes sting.

Myra wondered if she should tell her friends (not Lily) about what happened. She probably should, but then Marlene would strike out against them. She remembered the prank in the Common Room very clearly. She didn't like how her existence seemed to cause all these problems.

Occasionally, her mind would wander. It would go back to the moment.

His wild eyes, his flushed face, his heavy breathing, his flared nostrils, his pressed lips, his teeth bared. Her wide eyes, her blanched face, her pathetic whimpers, her weak pushes, her tears, her cowardly squeaks.

There were so many parallels it scared her. Myra never realized them (at least, she never wanted to so she guessed she never did).

All of them screamed at her. All of them made her feel cowardly. All of them made her feel scared. All of them made her feel pathetic.

They all hurt her.

And she wasn't sure if she could forgive that.

∞-∞-∞

James and Sirius had dragged him out of his bed and pushed him through the corridors. He couldn't feel anything. His arms were dead weight. His legs could barely support his weight. He stumbled forward and Sirius had to hold the back of his collar to stop him from crashing into a stone statue. He was shoved back into Peter.

"What's going on with you?" James asked. Remus still hadn't told him, "Is it worse than usual?" He knew that Sirius' grip on his arm needn't be that tight.

"I hurt her," He mumbled, tears flooding his eyes at just the memory of it, "I hurt her."

"Hurt who?"

"Myra," He whispered. Remus saw James' face darken.

"We'll deal with that later," Remus felt his hands start twitching, "We need to get you down quickly."

They went through the familiar corridors. Only it didn't feel familiar. Not like before. He knew that he wouldn't hold Myra's face in his hands, wouldn't be able to give her a smile whenever he saw her, wouldn't be able to kiss her lips. Not now. Not when he needed her. Desperately needed her.

When they were in the safe confines of the Shrieking Shack, when his bones started rearranging, when grey fur started sprouting across his face and when waves of pain and agony started rolling over him, he didn't want it to stop. Remus knew that he deserved this fate. He knew that he shouldn't think of getting anything else.