Disclaimer: I am determined to write the shortest disclaimer in the history of mankind, and I think I've found it, so without further ado: Theirs.

A/N: Well, this was a little angsty thing that originally was intended to be a bit slashy...but it just didn't write that way. Although if you read it really, really carefully, with that idea in mind, well…it's there but it's VERY subtle S/R, and you won't notice it unless you want to. Hope you enjoy it, and please REVIEW!! You see, that's the only way I'm going to write more, and even if you think I should be banished to the planet Mars because my writing is just indescribably awful, TELL ME THAT THEN!! How else am I going to take a hint and stop polluting your lives with vile stories? :) I am still suffering from the humiliation of getting 2 reviews for my last piece, so PLEASE review!!

*******************

Free

It was always a struggle for him, keeping his monster side at bay the rest of the month, when he had a choice between his two minds. Most of the time, his human, rational side won out. The side that everyone knew of him-the logical, practical conscientious member of the Marauders, the one who would persuade James and Sirius not to go ahead with some insane plot that would land them in serious trouble. 'Aww... Moony', they would protest good-naturedly, 'Pleeease', and then the puppy eyes would come out and he would say no to them, being completely logical and sensible, the 'Rational Reasonable Remus', as they jokingly called him, that they knew and loved.

Once every month, his torment would begin. The side of him that was a control-freak told him that it was a complete torment, being uncontrolled, letting instinct lead him away from whatever he would usually do, usually in the complete opposite direction. Letting himself become completely possessed by the wolf inside of him was one of the most difficult parts of his life, he told himself repeatedly, and almost came to believe it. If it weren't for two things he would have completely believed it.

The first thing was that, deep inside, he knew he'd go insane without his monthly transformation. The other Marauders all had two sides to their personalities, the serious and the pranksters. Well, he sometimes wondered about Sirius... but the two personalities were somehow inexplicably linked, and sometimes one side of their personality would win out, sometimes the other would, as he had found with all other human beings. His kind were different, at least in his experience. Werewolves, contrary to all popular beliefs, were normally sensible, logical human beings, in fact, he was practically the textbook werewolf, that is if the textbooks were informed properly, which in most cases, they weren't. The reason that werewolves were so completely level-headed during the period that wasn't the full moon was that during the full moon all sense disappeared as though it had never been there in the first place, and the wolf inside the human would run free and wild. Moony was two complete extremes-the wolf and the human. And that was the way he liked it. Secretly, he loved the sudden insane rush of freedom and lack of inhibition that came with being a wolf, all the more accented by the sudden extreme change between his human side and the wolf in him. Being a human was often all about putting on a mask, disguising true feelings of dislike and distrust, and being dishonest to oneself and other people. Being a wolf was completely the opposite; the mask would disintegrate in a split second, leaving one only with the feel of the howling wind against your fur, and the feeling of your rough paws pounding against the soft earth, of a thousand different smells, of crunchy leaves in the autumn, of tantalising smells from Hogsmeade-so close to him, distinguishing themselves to you in perfect detail simultaneously...there were so many things Moony discovered as a wolf that he never even thought about as a human. It was a wonderful experience, and one he could never fully describe in his human state because somehow the vividness would fade away as if it were all a dream; a cloud drifting slowly away, or a face he couldn't quite picture.

The second factor was his friends; his Animagi friends. How unbelievably precious his moments were with them as animals. He often wondered how much of the experience they felt; of putting their human sides behind them as he did, and whether it was quite as vivid as his. He had such wonderful shared memories of them bounding across foggy moors together-Wormtail scuttling behind sometimes, although on those occasions Prongs would fall behind and gently scoop him up onto his nose-it was quite a sight, Wormtail clinging to Prongs' nose as though his life depended on it. Those two would often run a little behind.

During his transformation, Peter would smile at him nervously, the part he had to play in Moony's transformation rather unsure, but trying to help him whatever. James would always be there in human form, urging him on kindly. The Marauders would often scold him afterwards for staying human for so long at such a risk to himself, as Moony could jump at him any time, but he continued to do it, showing his selfless nature. James would stroke his head, muttering gently, 'there, there Moony, there...', trying to soothe the inevitable clash of personalities as Remus met Moony and Moony forced Remus into compliance. It was very difficult, because Remus had had a whole month in control, to suddenly oppose your entire personality like that was painful mentally. The physical pain was also unbearable-like a thousand white-hot needles poking at your skin, trying to re-shape the bones there, but Remus bore it with the help of Padfoot, who always transformed first, to help reflect some of the excitement that the dogs would share that night. This always helped distract Remus, and Padfoot's excited yipping and puppy-like wagging of his tail would start the growing feeling of anticipation that he would invariably feel through the pain. The anticipation would slowly take over, and Moony would greet Padfoot-his wolf-eyes rolling, showing the whites of his eyes, not sure whether to trust him or not. Padfoot would do a strange dog-dance, barking at Moony, as if to say It's me, Moony, your friend Padfoot, remember me? Remus, with a smirk, thought that if Padfoot could have phrased it eloquently in dog-form it would be more like Moony, you great prat, remember me? Hello? Any form of intelligent life in there? But eventually, with a growl of comprehension, Moony would playfully tackle Padfoot, licking him excitedly, which Padfoot would bark impatiently, wanting to get out of the Shrieking Shack, where human walls were still around them, out into the Forbidden Forest and the foggy moors around them.

The most glorious moments of all his transformations were with Padfoot. The two dogs would bound ahead of the other two, barking and howling joyfully, just to show that they could. It was amazing how much of Sirius' personality came out in the dog; his sense of humour was reflected in his laughing eyes, his jet-black mane was transformed into a shining glossy coat and he would often play-fight with Moony, barking frantically at him and then running off in the opposite direction with Moony racing, crazed with excitement, after him, because during the transformations, the two dogs were brothers; one never left the others' side-wherever one went, the other would follow. They were playmates and canine brothers. They shared a sort of mutual bond, complete understanding, and a sort of chaste love for each other. It would never quite be equalled by the other two, because the greatest pleasure in life for Padfoot and Moony was being completely free from human restrictions-Sirius always showed his distaste for rules in his pranks, and by the fact that he simply disregarded rules altogether generally, as though they didn't mean anything. As Padfoot, rules really didn't mean anything. And of course Moony met all kind of prejudice in his life, and being a wolf was his way-his only way of being free. The two dogs understood that about each other; it was unspoken but somehow understood.

Remus supposed that was the third factor, the one that he never thought of for fear of over-analysing it. Padfoot. Sirius. Having such empathy between two beings, even if it was unspoken. It was so special, and Remus cherished it like a jewel-taking it out to be polished for one precious night a month. That was the time when it truly sparkled. When he and Padfoot were running side by side, paws pounding in sync, having a silent conversation, Remus needed nothing else. Some of their empathy remained in their human forms; whenever Sirius growled deep in his throat, it reminded Remus of their playful growling and arguments during their transformations. And when he looked into Sirius' inky eyes and saw the wildness of Padfoot dwelling inside, it was when he felt most alive. And what he hated most about Remus as opposed to Moony was that Remus could never tell Sirius how much he meant to him. And what he loved the most was that he knew Sirius could see it in his eyes anyway, and sometimes he thought he saw the same emotion in Sirius' storm-cloud eyes. He knew that if anyone could understand the rush of running wild with no human cares in the world, it would be his doggy friend. And those nights, and that emotion, was what he lived for.