41 ~ I feel... guilty

When your worst nightmare turns out to know your name

     There he was, my father. I had known from his letters that he would make contact again and I should have expected this. Ethan J. Aquila was not stupid; he would not send any more letters. That was why he now sat in front of me.     Our gazes met. Blue met blue and time stood still. I did not know what would happen now.

"You don’t need to be afraid, Phil," his voice spoke in my thoughts, or I imagined it. His body language said exactly that and from an impulse unfamiliar to me I wanted to step towards him, yes, wanted to.

     "Phil!" a call sounded from behind me, far away. It was clear that the Marauders were looking for me, because I had run off.          "Where are you!" came the shout and I looked over my shoulder, then back at my father. He too realised that he could not speak to me undisturbed. The werewolf’s gaze lifted to the sky. He looked at the moon, then his eyes met mine again and I nodded. Next full moon my father would return, and at this exact place, my place. We would finally speak and perhaps I would get answers, hopefully.     "Phil!" I heard again. After that call the wolf turned and disappeared into the forest.          "You’re hurt and you can’t heal yourself!"     It must have been Black calling for me. Unfortunately his words were true, because my fur had already clotted with my blood. I did not want to run into the boys, and they must not find my place.     I turned and ran back. My paws moved over the forest floor and a short while later I ran, at some distance, past the Marauders. They did not see me, but they heard me. I ignored their calls and ran back to my clothes.     There I transformed back. In my human body I only then saw the extent of my injury. My thoughts also became clearer and I felt a sense of guilt. I had not wanted to attack Remus.     He must be feeling awful right now. He had told me that the worst thing about the full moon for him was not knowing what he did, whether he hurt someone, even killed someone. Now I had put him in such a situation, but the blame lay entirely with me.     In pain I pulled on my trousers and the loose shirt. Immediately it soaked with my blood. I could not look at it for long, because behind me leaves rustled. The Marauders had found me.

James' POV:

     My eyes fixed on Phil, who, unlike Moony, did not transform back. It seemed as though her body was coursed through by a strange energy, like a wave. When it had travelled from her head to the tip of her tail, Phil remained a werewolf. For a brief moment I met her gaze, then she shot past us. Within seconds she had vanished.     I did not know what was going on with her. I was sure that she was conscious, yet she seemed like Moony during the full moon. As I thought of Moony, he moved.     Immediately Padfoot and Peter were human again and I transformed back as well. For a moment it felt strange to be standing on two legs again, but there were bigger concerns. First Moony was given a cloak by Padfoot, then we had to explain what had happened. This time he took it better than the first time he had encountered Phil as a werewolf. Still, worry and guilt were immediately visible on his face.     Padfoot explained to him that Phil had suddenly appeared and that the two had fought briefly. Briefly, although there had been some heavy blows. I had noticed that Phil had not attacked Moony. Only when he had wanted to go for Padfoot had she attacked him. In a fight where one did not fight, that one was the one who lost.     Remus showed claw marks across his upper body, but only one seemed deep enough to leave a light scar. Phil had truly been in control, even if she had then run madly into the depths of the forest. One thing, however, was clear, we would have to find her.

     "Don’t blame yourself," I said to Remus, who still looked shocked and walked barefoot beside me through the forest. He limped slightly, because Phil had struck him at the back of his thigh.          "You know I can’t..."     I pressed my lips together. The truth was that Moony always blamed himself for everything, just like now.          "Phil!" Padfoot shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth, "Where are you!"     Of course there was no answer. Sirius walked beside me and then said, this time in a normal tone, "I’m telling you, now she’s gone mad as well."     "I think your emotions are getting the better of you," Moony replied calmly and looked straight ahead without emotion.          "And?" Sirius asked. He was truly shaken, even if, like all of us, he was worried. Yes, we had argued with Phil and she wanted nothing to do with us, but we genuinely just wanted her to be alright.     That Remus was the driving force in our group was clear. As his friends, we supported him in that. Phil also seemed like a nice girl, even if she had her problems.     "You’re hurt and you can’t heal yourself!" Padfoot called again and we followed the trail of disturbed leaves. We did not have to for long, however, because suddenly something raced past us and it could only have been Phil. She moved at incredible speed, considering she was injured.     "She’s only going to hurt herself even more..." Sirius said, running a hand through his hair. A deep groan left his throat.     "We have to follow her," Moony replied firmly and we did. We even found Phil a short while later, fortunately in her human form.

Phil's POV:

     "Phil!"     I turned around as I had picked up my coat and looked towards the Marauders. As expected, they were beside themselves. For a brief moment I forgot that I could not stand them right now.     "Are you alright? Why didn’t you stay when the moon was gone?" questions rained down on me from Black, but I ignored him.          "How are you?" I asked Remus instead, ignoring the others. I imagined I saw Black about to roll his eyes, but he kept his emotions under control.     "I’m as I am, but you’re hurt, Phil, I hurt you..." Remus muttered. He came towards me, his friends following.          "It’s not your fault, it’s mine," I replied firmly and held the coat in front of my body. I did not want Remus to see the injury he had inflicted on me as a werewolf - he would feel even more guilt; it would crash over him. It was best if only Madame Pomfrey saw the wound. I tried to make that clear with my gaze.     "Your wound needs to be treated," Potter raised his voice, "Let us close it with a healing spell."          "No."     "No?!" came sharply from Black, "I mean, we just had a row, but this is serious."     After those words I could not suppress an eye roll, because of course he did not understand. He did not understand that I wanted to spare Remus torment, because he wore only a coat. On his partly visible chest one could see the marks from my hind paws and everything inside me tightened.          "Yes, no," I insisted, with an iron expression, "I’ll survive until the hospital wing."     After I finished, I turned around, the Marauders became my shadow and we walked to the castle.

     On the way to the hospital wing I had to explain to the boys what had been going on with me. I only told them that I had seen something strange, had wanted to follow it, but had then not found it again. That I had seen my father, that I had arranged to meet him next full moon, I kept to myself, because it was my business.

Is it?My business?Yes, right?Yes.

     After that we did not speak to each other anymore. In the hospital wing Madame Pomfrey treated us. We were also given potions, and I was sure that one of them was to calm us. At least I felt far too calm as I lay in fresh clothes in bed.     To my misfortune, or perhaps not, Madame Pomfrey had placed Remus and me in neighbouring beds.

Rather to my misfortune.

     That was what I thought, because I felt the gaze of a certain Remus John Lupin on my back as I tried to sleep. Strangely, because of Pomfrey’s potions I did not have to think about the encounter with my father. That was why I could turn my attention to my neighbour. I turned onto my back in the next breath, then onto my side. My eyes found a Remus who was sitting in bed rather than lying. For a short while we looked at each other.          "You don’t need to feel guilty, we’re both still alive."     "But I do," came the quiet reply, "And what if it doesn’t stop at injuries next time? What if I hurt you more, even kill you?"          I had no answer to that question, because it opened a wound inside me. I had already lived through Remus’ greatest nightmare, knew an answer to his question.     "Then it still wouldn’t be your fault," I said, but the boy shook his head.          "Of course it would be my fault, I-"     "No, it wouldn’t be your fault!" I insisted, "You have no control. So if I ran into you again, it would be my fault. As a wolf I should have picked up your trail today, if I hadn’t been distracted."     "It would be my fault, because logically I should chain myself up somewhere," he explained, "How can you say something like that?"     "Because I’ve already killed someone as a werewolf!"

Silence...

     Remus’ gaze grew more intense and in the darkness his eyes widened. In that moment I asked myself why I had told him at all.     "When I was young, like a normal werewolf, I had no control at full moon. I ran away from home, everyone forgot that it was full moon, even my mother. It became her undoing, it became everyone’s undoing. That night I destroyed three lives as a werewolf. My mother’s, her second husband’s and my own."     "The reason you lived in the forest," my counterpart concluded, whom I could not look at right now.

I am the monster he himself does not want to become...

     "You asked me why I can say it. That’s the answer. I was still a child, my werewolf form small, so I only killed my mother. I mean, she wasn’t good to me, but still, I killed a person. I did what you’re afraid of. Do you blame me for her death, even though I had no control?" I asked in a whisper.     I lay back on my back, looked at the curved ceiling of the room. For a few seconds it was suffocatingly quiet. In the grey hospital wing, just Remus and me. The large windows to our left let pale night light into the room.     "No, not in that case. You were a child, didn’t know that it was full moon that day, so no. But it must be hard-" he suddenly stopped speaking, "Phil, are you crying?!"     Startled, I touched my right cheek.           I had indeed started crying.     "No," I tried to hide it, wiped my tears away, but too late. Beside me a figure stepped into my field of vision and I sat up, looking up at Remus, who had come over to me.     "Of course you are, why are you lying?"     I shrugged, had no answer. I did not need one, because in the next moment Remus sat down beside me and pulled me to him. For a moment my body stiffened, but I returned the embrace.     The last time I had been this close to Remus had been when he had calmed me in fourth year, when the Marauders had saved me from the wolves. Back then Remus had held me too, but unlike last time I returned his embrace now.     It was not a normal embrace, because after the argument I had had with him and his friends, this embrace felt like forgiveness and an apology at the same time. I was still angry with him and the others, but in that moment it did not matter.          "It wasn’t your fault."     "And today wasn’t yours," I replied, looking into Remus’ eyes, "Promise me that you won’t blame yourself for today, please."     I could see that he was struggling with himself. In the end he nodded, even if only slightly and only for me.

     After our conversation Remus stayed sitting with me and we talked for a long time. For the first time it felt as though we were on the same level, and it was nice.     Since Remus already knew a lot about me, I wanted to know from him how he had become a werewolf in the first place. He told me that he had been bitten as a child by Fenrir Greyback, who had taken revenge on his father, Lyall Lupin. His father worked at the Ministry and had had dealings with the werewolf.     Remus’ father considered werewolves inferior creatures that should be killed. That was why Remus had been bitten as revenge, to confront his father with what he despised, so that he now had to despise it in his own son.     To this day the atmosphere at home was not the best. After that topic we talked about other things. At some point tiredness and exhaustion won in both of us and we fell asleep. Perhaps Madame Pomfrey’s potions had also worked, I did not know.