"Gone"

Work: Harry Potter
Character(s): Remus Lupin
Genre: Angst
Rating: PG
Warnings: slashy implications? Maybe. It can be Remus/Sirius if you want it to be. Interpret it as you will, and please take the time to review on your way out. Thanks, and enjoy.

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Since it happened, he has fallen further and further into decay. He picks at his food, not seeming to notice how gaunt he has become. The grey in his hair is more prominent than ever, the circles under his eyes like shadows on the face of the moon. He often stares off into space, completely consumed by his thoughts, not realizing when others are speaking to him. Rarely does he say anything back. Sometimes when he thinks he is alone, his friends hear him say one word over and over again, one man's name no more than a whisper on his lips. Although they try to cheer him up, he does not even bother to fake a smile. He has no reason to smile anymore, for one wizard has stolen away his three closest friends, picking them off one at a time.

The first was devastating and difficult to believe. The second was a severe blow, at least, until he learned the truth. But this last one was pure destruction of his mind and soul. His sense of self-preservation is gone; he sits in the gloom he casts about himself, desiring to do nothing.

On the first full moon after it happened, he refused his potion and locked himself in an empty room. When he transformed, he unleashed his frustration, bellowing so t furiously that the walls shook. His friends listened anxiously as he let his bestial side take over, worrying for him in his anguish. They did not know what he hoped to achieve from it – release, perhaps. Whether it worked or not, they cannot say.

He knows. The sensation of letting go was exquisite; for a few hours he was not himself, and for once he welcomed it. He was not weak, or scared, or bitter, or in grief. He could escape, if only briefly, and let him be consumed by something wonderfully savage.

But now the moon is waning, and so he is condemned to sit in silence, lost within himself. Robbed twice of the one most dear to him, his will to fight has vanished. His friends say that it will return, greater than ever, and that the enemy will pay in blood for what they did. He shows no sign of recovery, though, not yet. He is numb inside, completely frozen, utterly heartbroken.