Okay, this is so weird I think it just might work. A little tale of a first- year werewolf at Hogwarts enjoying himself quietly.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter. Nope. Not me.

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One for Sorrow

Remus quietly slinked his way down the corridor. It was nearing the full moon and the wolf stirring inside him heightened his senses and sharpened his instincts. His progress was as quiet as gently falling Spring leaves. Keeping to shadows and staying close to the walls, he found it immensely difficult not to giggle when no fewer than five people passed him completely unaware of his presence. Who need Invisibility Cloaks?

Reaching the door he was looking for, he slipped into the dusty broom closet. Softly whispering, "Lumos", he settled back against the side of the closet and sighed happily as a bright light fillled the cupboard. Ahhh, solitude! He reached out and ran a hand gently down the length of the only broom in the cabinet- an old, pathetic thing which quivered like a cat being petted. He smiled. Not many people cared for brooms, thinking them to be merely tools- Remus knew different. Old wood has many tales to tell. An object cannot be enchanted without developing certain characteristics and feelings if left unused fo a long time.

The young werewolf then turned his attention to his wand. Delicately stroking it with his fingertip, he murmured, "Shh." The light faded to a golden glow, like that of a candle. Remus placed the wand on the floor and pulled a bar of Honeyduke's best milk chocolate out of his robe's pocket. It wasn't unusual for him to try and find a deserted place to enjoy his favourite treat- some people tended to be unerved by just how much he got into the taste and texture. James had once jokily remarked that Remus would never be able to keep a relationship together for very long- his lover would be put off by the fact Remus lavished more attention on the sweet confection than the affair.

Carefully unwrapping the bar, Remus lifted it up to his nose and sniffed. His keen sense of smell intensified the delicious scent, and he found himself salivating quite badly. He broke a square from the bar with a satisfying snap and regarded it with great affection. "One for sorrow," he sighed to it before slipping it between his lips.

"Two for joy." A second square followed the first.

"Three for a girl." Another square found itself being devoured.

"Four for a boy." Remus paused and quickly conjured a small glass of milk, from which he took a sip to relieve the sweetness.

"Five for silver." He shivered slightly at the thought of the metal that caused his skin to burn.

"Six for gold." Gold- the colour of a wild beast's untamed, feral eyes.

"Seven for a secret never to be told." Remus's hands began to quake as he stared at the seventh piece of chocolate. A secret never to be told. Never to be told. A secret. His secret.

Shaking himself, Remus sternly reprimanded himself for being so melodramatic. It was just a piece of chocolate and a silly rhyme that applied to magpies. Absolutely nothing to get worked up about. He put the square in his mouth descisively and revelled in the heavenly taste. Then he carefully re-wrapped the bar and stood, picking up his wand. He muttered "Knox," and snuck out into the corridor. James and Sirius were probably wondering where he was- it had been all of 5 hours since their last trick and they often needed help pulling off their pranks.

The broom shifted in the dark. Had it a voice, it would have sighed. It was sad to see such a compassionate youngster so disheartened. The broom shivered. It was lonely, being the only one left ignored in the dark. Old wood never forgets. Old wood has many tales to tell.

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So? What do you think? Please review!