A/N: Written for the Hogwarts Fair 2014, Giant Apple Bobbing. And I'm severely proud of myself for this, because I managed the fic in 18 minutes. Also written for the Secret Battle Round 3, prompts: Hope / Love / Stars / Happiness / Sugar / Sweet / Light / Lust / Life with using a character inclined to the light (Remus) and one of the genres: romance / friendship / family.

Stories in the Stars

Stars were supposed to be a pretty painting in the night sky: a map with pins in it leading to happy futures and even happier lives. So why was it, when he looked upon them, he only saw the way to more pain and sadness. Why was it they only spoke to him about more loneliness?

He wished he hadn't taken astronomy. It just made him more depressed, seeing the night sky spread out like its clouting veil above his head on those nights.

But he'd taken it because he'd hoped that, during those nights he was fated to run like a wild animal beneath it, he could look at the stars in the sky and read the stories it told.

.

Stories were supposed to be fairy tales: happily ever after endings that sung to him like a lullaby. Little fairies that made him smile as they took a wish from him to fulfil, then came back with its fulfilment. But the fairies never came back, and not all the stories he learnt through the stars – or even closer to earth: from the trees, from the howls that sounded just like his own painful binds…

Not all of those stories had happy endings, though he dearly wished they did. Because then he could go on believing in his own happy ending as well. Then he could believe his life would find some purpose beyond pain and suffering.

.

Sweets were supposed to be yummy: a taste in heaven, melting on his tongue and letting him work on clouds for the rest of the day. Maybe that's why he drowned himself in them, until his exceptionally strong teeth started feeling the rot and decay and almost every time he put something sugary in his mouth, his stomach painfully clenched.

But he still continued eating them, drowning himself in them, for those brief moments of euphoria that could give him the taste of heaven he sought. Because there was no other heaven to be found. He had no friends, no-one to love. His parents were already dead. All he had was the beast inside of him and the sad stories of the stars and the forests and the trees that called out to him when he ran on those full moon nights.

At least, when he had a toffee melting in his mouth, he could forget all that…for a little bit.

.

Friends were supposed to be the saving grace, and they were, in a way. But maybe he'd expected too much of friendship. Or maybe it was the idea he'd been in love with.

Not that he hated his friends: on the contrary, he loved them. Very much. It was just that the wolf inside him was still a very powerful force. Friends didn't take that away. Friends fled his mind the moment the full moon peeked through the clouds or a cloudless night and transformed him. Friends returned to him only after he woke up, his body wracked in pain and alone in a slightly smaller moon.

But that made things a little more bearable. Better than the sweets that hurt every time he ate them, but he ate those anyway. Friends didn't hurt all the time. Not when he was far away from them in the times it would hurt, too much. Like his parents…

.

Parents weren't supposed to die before their children, but his did. Then again, parents weren't supposed to have a monster for a child. His did.

He hadn't been born a monster, and he knew, despite how he degraded himself day by day, that it wasn't his fault he'd become one. His father blamed himself: if he hadn't offended Greyback, the werewolf would never have come after them. But his father had just been doing his job. Remus couldn't blame his father for that: his father had been doing his job to look after his wife and son.

But whoever tried to take the blame for it, it had happened. Greyback had come in the night and, breaking the magical defences around their house, dragged a four year old Remus from his bed and bitten him.

The Healers at St Mungos had managed to save his life, but the bite was still there, unhealable and transforming. And the next full moon was the first night he'd transformed – and also when his parents had died.

.

Four year olds weren't supposed to be killers, but he was one. It wasn't his fault, though he couldn't wipe the thought that it was from his mind. If only he could have hung on to his mind. If only he hadn't gotten bitten in the first place.

But he had been bitten, and on that first full moon night he had no idea what to expect, and no strength to hold on to his mind as everything slipped away from him. The light of the moon vanished into darkness. The terrified beating of his heart became the swooshing of blood through his veins, and the saliva collecting on his tongue.

And the smell of his parents – the parents who'd refused to leave him locked up and taken him home with them, believing all the while they'd make it work somehow, believing they'd still be a happy family together…

But it wasn't to be. The moment he became the wolf, the smell of his parents became the smell of his prey. And that was something he had to live with forever more.

.

Friends were supposed to love him enough to keep him from losing his humanity completely, but they weren't supposed to know the truth. But they did know it. Somehow, they'd found out. And now he was confronted with a new fear: the same thing that had put his parents at such a risk, that had, ultimately, stolen them.

'I killed my parents like that,' he said, in a monotone, hoping to drive them off. If he lost their friendship at the same time, so be it. It was worth the price to protect them.

'We're not just friends,' they said to him. 'We're family. Family just like your parents. We're not leaving you alone.'

And he couldn't sway them on that, no matter how hard he tried. After the next full moon, he gave up trying. He didn't need to; they'd gone further than his parents, thought more – come up with a way they could be together on those full moon nights after all.

His family…

Family was supposed to be connected by blood and his wasn't, but that didn't matter. He loved them anyway, and they loved him, and aside from the lack of blood binding them they were as close as could be. He didn't lust for their blood when they were animals like him. They didn't shun him when he was human like them.

They were together. They were a family. And together they ran through the full moon nights and discovered many stories he hadn't been able to find alone: in the forests, in the grass, in the stars, and even in the stone walls of the castle he'd never thought to explore alone.