The Great Gig in the Sky
Title: The Great Gig in the Sky
Author: missgryff
Rating: PG-13 for angst
Warnings: *character death, self-mutilation*
Summary: "You're a monster, Remus Lupin."
Word Count: 974
A/N: title taken from the beautiful Pink Floyd song. this ficlet will probably make you hate me if you read it. i'd hate me too. oh, and naturally, all mistakes are mine.
“You’re a monster, Remus Lupin.” He mouthed the words to himself in the mirror of the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory bathroom. It was some unknown hour past midnight. Remus had been sleeping rather excessively lately; he attributed it to the last full moon, only four days ago. This particular night, however, Remus was awakened by his nightmares. He’d tip-toed quietly out of bed and walked into the loo, locking the door behind himself.
“You’re a monster, Remus Lupin,” he said to himself again, a hopeless sadness in his voice. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, the Incident. Sirius, his best mate who had slowly started to cause Remus’ heart to flutter when he walked into the room, had betrayed his darkest secret. He who Remus had thought himself closest to in this world had let Remus almost kill a person.
That betrayal in itself was awful enough on its own before he had started thinking too much about the killing people part. And Remus knew that he was indeed capable of killing. He felt that in the way his bones cracked out of place each month, in the way the moonlight sang just for him.
“You’re a monster, Remus Lupin,” the rest, unsaid, rang in his head. ‘You don’t belong here.’ Snape’s voice was even more malicious as he recalled it than how it had actually sounded a month ago. Remus thought Snape was right though. He didn’t belong among civilized people. What a joke that all was, in retrospect. He could see that now. He didn’t belong among people at all.
Two days ago Remus realized that the other marauders were getting suspicious of his behavior. He’d forgiven Sirius the moon before while still in his hospital bed before it all had really had a chance to be processed by his brain, but they all knew he wasn’t acting as if he’d forgiven anyone. Remus had started making habit of going up to the dorm to bed while everyone was still playing exploding snap or chess or listening to James’ latest Quidditch strategies. He’d started turning in sub-par coursework, though never turning down Sirius’ pleas for help despite the resentment that lingered. Two days ago Remus turned down a chocolate frog Peter offered him over the dinner table. Sirius must’ve noticed then that he had hardly eaten since the transformation four days ago.
It didn’t matter anymore though, none of it did. He couldn’t see how he didn’t realize much sooner that things were headed this way. It was clear now that everything led to this, his killing someone.
“You’re a monster, Remus Lupin,” he whispered to himself one last night before eyeing Peter’s shaving razorblade and tip-toeing back to bed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day Remus spent his morning between sleep and consciousness on the far side of the lake. He was perfectly content to laze about. He couldn’t see the point in much of anything anymore, especially not in doing any work on a Saturday morning. This was his only escape, enjoying the early spring air and calm green serenity surrounding him. Nothing else in his life offered him emotional reprieve as this did; Nothing made the ache in his chest and throat dull as this did.
Remus was just winking into consciousness again when he heard Peter’s voice. He looked up, knowing he’d see Sirius and James not far behind, and stood. “Hey,” was all he offered, dusting off his bottom and pulling a leaf from his hair.
“Hey yourself,” Sirius said weakly.
“We were just coming to check-“James started but Remus cut in.
“I have an Arithmancy essay to write.” He hurried off past his friends, headed back to Gryffindor Tower with no intention to work whatsoever.
He drew himself a hot bath, disrobed, and carefully stepped in. He laid his head back on the side of the tub and tried failingly not to think of Snape’s words.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That night Remus awoke from his nightmares and, instead of heading to the toilets, grabbed his wand, put on his shoes, and wrapped his coat around his naked torso. He didn’t need the Map to silently slip out of the castle and find the Whomping Willow. Thin pajama bottoms really don’t make for proper outerwear, he thought briefly, standing in the cold night wind as he tapped the knot on the Willow. Remus didn’t stumble as he made his way through the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack. He knew every rock and tree root and turn in the path; he’d walked it often, too often, in his few years. Once inside, he climbed the stairs to the room Pomfrey had made up for him-only a bed distinguished it from the rest of the house, however. It was unadorned and already dusty from after a few days ago. Nearly everything in the Shack was embellished with some degree of the wolf’s clawing. Remus chose not to sit on the bed, but to lie on the bare floorboards. For a long time he just laid there, the ache becoming more pronounced.
He knew what he was going to do, he had thought about it for a while, but finally decided in the bathtub yesterday morning.
He accio’d a screw out of the bed frame and transfigured it into a razorblade.
He made two pretty lines from his wrists to his elbows on each arm before he passed out. He could’ve sworn in those few moments as his blood bled across his pajamas and over the floor and dripped beautifully through the cracks in the wood that he’d heard that Pink Floyd song on Dark Side of the Moon playing-The Great Gig in the Sky-- the part where the woman just belts it, just feels the music. He felt like that as he saw his blood spill. And then everything went black.
Author: missgryff
Rating: PG-13 for angst
Warnings: *character death, self-mutilation*
Summary: "You're a monster, Remus Lupin."
Word Count: 974
A/N: title taken from the beautiful Pink Floyd song. this ficlet will probably make you hate me if you read it. i'd hate me too. oh, and naturally, all mistakes are mine.
“You’re a monster, Remus Lupin.” He mouthed the words to himself in the mirror of the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory bathroom. It was some unknown hour past midnight. Remus had been sleeping rather excessively lately; he attributed it to the last full moon, only four days ago. This particular night, however, Remus was awakened by his nightmares. He’d tip-toed quietly out of bed and walked into the loo, locking the door behind himself.
“You’re a monster, Remus Lupin,” he said to himself again, a hopeless sadness in his voice. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, the Incident. Sirius, his best mate who had slowly started to cause Remus’ heart to flutter when he walked into the room, had betrayed his darkest secret. He who Remus had thought himself closest to in this world had let Remus almost kill a person.
That betrayal in itself was awful enough on its own before he had started thinking too much about the killing people part. And Remus knew that he was indeed capable of killing. He felt that in the way his bones cracked out of place each month, in the way the moonlight sang just for him.
“You’re a monster, Remus Lupin,” the rest, unsaid, rang in his head. ‘You don’t belong here.’ Snape’s voice was even more malicious as he recalled it than how it had actually sounded a month ago. Remus thought Snape was right though. He didn’t belong among civilized people. What a joke that all was, in retrospect. He could see that now. He didn’t belong among people at all.
Two days ago Remus realized that the other marauders were getting suspicious of his behavior. He’d forgiven Sirius the moon before while still in his hospital bed before it all had really had a chance to be processed by his brain, but they all knew he wasn’t acting as if he’d forgiven anyone. Remus had started making habit of going up to the dorm to bed while everyone was still playing exploding snap or chess or listening to James’ latest Quidditch strategies. He’d started turning in sub-par coursework, though never turning down Sirius’ pleas for help despite the resentment that lingered. Two days ago Remus turned down a chocolate frog Peter offered him over the dinner table. Sirius must’ve noticed then that he had hardly eaten since the transformation four days ago.
It didn’t matter anymore though, none of it did. He couldn’t see how he didn’t realize much sooner that things were headed this way. It was clear now that everything led to this, his killing someone.
“You’re a monster, Remus Lupin,” he whispered to himself one last night before eyeing Peter’s shaving razorblade and tip-toeing back to bed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day Remus spent his morning between sleep and consciousness on the far side of the lake. He was perfectly content to laze about. He couldn’t see the point in much of anything anymore, especially not in doing any work on a Saturday morning. This was his only escape, enjoying the early spring air and calm green serenity surrounding him. Nothing else in his life offered him emotional reprieve as this did; Nothing made the ache in his chest and throat dull as this did.
Remus was just winking into consciousness again when he heard Peter’s voice. He looked up, knowing he’d see Sirius and James not far behind, and stood. “Hey,” was all he offered, dusting off his bottom and pulling a leaf from his hair.
“Hey yourself,” Sirius said weakly.
“We were just coming to check-“James started but Remus cut in.
“I have an Arithmancy essay to write.” He hurried off past his friends, headed back to Gryffindor Tower with no intention to work whatsoever.
He drew himself a hot bath, disrobed, and carefully stepped in. He laid his head back on the side of the tub and tried failingly not to think of Snape’s words.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That night Remus awoke from his nightmares and, instead of heading to the toilets, grabbed his wand, put on his shoes, and wrapped his coat around his naked torso. He didn’t need the Map to silently slip out of the castle and find the Whomping Willow. Thin pajama bottoms really don’t make for proper outerwear, he thought briefly, standing in the cold night wind as he tapped the knot on the Willow. Remus didn’t stumble as he made his way through the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack. He knew every rock and tree root and turn in the path; he’d walked it often, too often, in his few years. Once inside, he climbed the stairs to the room Pomfrey had made up for him-only a bed distinguished it from the rest of the house, however. It was unadorned and already dusty from after a few days ago. Nearly everything in the Shack was embellished with some degree of the wolf’s clawing. Remus chose not to sit on the bed, but to lie on the bare floorboards. For a long time he just laid there, the ache becoming more pronounced.
He knew what he was going to do, he had thought about it for a while, but finally decided in the bathtub yesterday morning.
He accio’d a screw out of the bed frame and transfigured it into a razorblade.
He made two pretty lines from his wrists to his elbows on each arm before he passed out. He could’ve sworn in those few moments as his blood bled across his pajamas and over the floor and dripped beautifully through the cracks in the wood that he’d heard that Pink Floyd song on Dark Side of the Moon playing-The Great Gig in the Sky-- the part where the woman just belts it, just feels the music. He felt like that as he saw his blood spill. And then everything went black.