Alive

The air felt crisp and clear, and there was that very special fragrance in it with a bitter undertone that you can only experience in autumn. The days were still bright and sunny, and trees were still green with just a few specks of gold here and there. Remus took a bunch of leaves home to make some decorations. His tiny room was neat and tidy because Remus was a good boy, a very good boy indeed. In the evenings he liked drawing and playing with his toys while Mommy was listening to Daddy’s day at work. Daddy had very important work, and Daddy could make all the golden and yellow leaves he had picked during the day fly. Remus knew that one day he would also make magic, and make the leaves fly. Daddy could also make scary things disappear. Like that time Mommy found something scary in the closet, and when Daddy came back from work he told her that was nothing to worry about. That was just a Bo. He said that the best way to get rid of anything scary was to laugh it off, and that there was even a spell for it. Rid-di-ku-lus. Remus liked the sound of it. He was going to work with Daddy when he grew up. He would also have a magic wand, and he would make scary things go away. The air felt crisp and clear, and he breathed in deeply taking in all the wilderness of the upcoming autumn there was. There was the moist and sweet smell of rotting leaves, and the rich aroma of earth. The sky was blue and hiding in the heads of the trees, and the brightness of its color seemed to make the dull headache worse, biting him like a cowardly bitch. He knew his headache had nothing to do with the rich colors around him. On days like this one headaches were his constant companions, gnawing the mild and tender insides of the skull. He knew what the insides of skulls looked like… nothing fancy. Like a stew that tastes and smells good but looks like someone had vomited on your plate. On days like this there was a trembling sensation in his muscles — all but in his neck. His neck would become stiff, as if curved from stone. On days like this he felt like there was magic in the air, he felt magic pulsating inside of him, and there was not blood but liquid magic running through his veins. His heart — he had a big and strong heart of a warrior, his mum had said so long ago that he couldn’t remember her face or her smell — was beating faster than usual. He was excited for no visible reason, and he would smile brightly showing the world his yellowed teeth. The trees came close enough to the little house. It was a two-storey house, rather tall than wide, and there was an elegant gray ribbon of smoke coming from its chimney. The three little pigs’ house. “I’ll huff, and I’ll puff,” he mumbled and the words felt heavy as boulders, they felt unnatural and strange, and the tongue felt too big and wide now in his mouth. “and I will blow your house down.” One pig came out to collect the freshly washed linen. This pig was a pretty pig, but nothing to howl your mum about. Nothing to take right away. Then the piglet came out of the house, and this piglet was so small, and tender, and smelled so good of pastry, and milk, and rays of sunshine, and there wasn’t even a hint of sweat in his smell yet, he was oh so young, so delicious… His mouth began to water. But it wasn’t the time yet. The wolf was greedy and he wanted to catch all the three pigs at once. He stepped behind the tree and made himself comfortable on the ground. Remus went to bed eagerly, because on nights like this he wasn’t afraid of the dark. On nights like this the moon was full and shiny, plump and silver, and its beautiful glow filled his tiny bedroom. Remus was a little bit afraid of the closet in his room, because Daddy explained to Mommy that Bos often lived in closets, but on a night like this the moon was shining and there was nothing scary in the world, there were no shadows lurking in the corners of his room. He could see everything so well! Remus was dozing off. His gaze circled the room for the last, final time checking that everything was nice and well, bathed in the light of the magical full moon, and he yawned ready to fall asleep… The moon disappeared. There was a shadow behind the window, and Remus thought in amazement that it was all wrong. Daddy said that all the scary shadows and the Boggarts dwelled in dark places like closets, and attics, and cellars. And this scary shadow was outside his window and under the beautiful moonlight, and… “Rid-di-ku-lus,” whispered Remus only half-awake. He wasn’t scared, he knew exactly what to do. Then the window shattered, and the pieces of it were flying in the air, glowing in the moonlight, letting in the dark shadow that smelled of forest, and earth, and something rotten and copper. Remus wanted to say the charm again but instead of it he shrieked with pain and terror when the foul smelling furry shadow was on him, crushing his tiny bones and sinking its teeth in his shoulder. Soulless, evil and deserving nothing but death. Fenrir Greyback was smiling. All wolves are greedy, that was the truth, but not all wolves are stupid. That fairy tale wolf tried to get all the three little pigs and that was his main mistake. You don’t take all the three, you see. The biggest of the pigs would fight back and, though, it might be lots of fun, it wouldn’t bring the full satisfaction the wolf craved. During the full moon — yes. That would be part of the hunt, part of the fun, but, sadly, there was always the morning after. The prettiest of the pigs would be even more fun. There were so many things you could do to a pretty pig like her, so many tasty things that smelled of fear and pain, smelled of blood and despair. You could huff, and you could puff, and you could make her shriek the way her pig of a husband never could, oh, yes. But there was a little piglet. And it was the little piglet that really counted. The delicious little piglet that smelled of milk, and sun, and sweet dreams. And by sinking his fangs into his delicate flesh you get all the three pigs at once. “Bite them young,” Fenrir smiled. “They are the most delicious when they’re young.”