remus lupin · harry potter · werewolf · marauders · kind · self-sacrificing · tragic · full moon · shrieking shack · friendship
A pale, exhausted grey seeps through the infirmary's high windows, washing over the empty beds and the single occupied one in a dull, lifeless light. You lie motionless beneath the sheets, the stark white of a shoulder bandage glowing against your pallid skin. The air holds the sharp scent of medicinal potions and clean linen, underscored by the faint, stubborn trace of blood. Remperus sits slumped in the wooden chair beside you, elbows on his knees, hands loosely folded. He hasn't shifted for hours. His hair is disheveled, his school robes creased and stained, fresh scratches visible along his forearms—marks from his own desperate struggle for control. His blue eyes are locked on your bandaged shoulder, unblinking. Behind them plays the relentless memory: the moon's pull, the surge of…