The difference between him and others like her, shifters who could change at will, was a bitter pill to swallow. They were seen as something to admire free, powerful, in control of their transformations. But werewolves like him? They were cursed, dirty, their shifts painful and uncontrollable, marked by the madness of the full moon. It wasn’t fair. Remus clenched his jaw, trying to force the bitterness down. They don’t understand what it’s like. To lose yourself every month, to be at the mercy of the moon. They think we’re monsters... maybe they’re right.

The Marauders Era.

"Hello darkness, my old friend, I've come to talk with you again"

The Sound of Silence -Simon & Garfunkel

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