"I am Remus Lupin," this wild and frankly delirious thought echoed like a ringing bell in the depths of my mind. But it was impossible to deny reality.
I remembered my death perfectly; it is hard to forget or confuse the sensation of a chest cavity being crushed inward. And a head-on collision with a jeep that flew into the oncoming lane, based on banal logic and taking into account the by no means low speeds of the two cars...
"Brr! I still get goosebumps, and my chest starts to ache at the mere thought of my own death. Even the memories of this boy don't save me from the phantom sensations of breaking bones and tearing internal organs," I shivered quite naturally, reliving the last moments of my past life once again.
Which, it seemed, had already managed to get lost against the background of an endless stream of someone else's memories, images, and feelings. As if I didn't die a couple of subjective hours ago, but... I don't even know how to describe such feelings. But the memories of a thirteen-year-old boy really hit my worldview hard. Or did Remus himself remember his past life, and I merely took the leading role in our tandem due to greater life experience?
Honestly, even after digging into myself, I never found a definite answer to this question. Remus's memories seemed far too native and natural... But my life as Andrey Ryabov did not become any less real because of it.
"Stupidity, nonsense, magic, and damned lycanthropy," I hissed painfully, struggling not only with the mess and uncertainty in my own head but also with the "wonderful" sensations after another full moon.
Yes, I am a werewolf now... And werewolves are unable to control themselves during a full moon, turning into a dangerous monster that only craves fresh blood. Well, or such is the opinion of ordinary wizards and my underage predecessor... Ahem, yes, I am probably not quite Lupin after all.
Remus desperately hated his own nature, against the background of which he was in a constant state of depression... Not in its most severe form, the guy's friends saved him from completely gloomy thoughts, but in general, the kid had a whole bunch of hang-ups, having already managed to give up on himself at such a young age.
For some reason, he was sincerely convinced that with his "furry little problem" he would never start a family, get a normal job, or become a worthy member of society... Although okay, I understood where such defeatist thoughts came from.
"The local society doesn't exactly love werewolves, and the 'father' of this body bullied his son so much that anyone would doubt their own abilities," I voiced my thoughts aloud with an angry smirk on my lips.
This not only helped me distance myself from the unpleasant sensations but also did a good job of overcoming the duality of perception. For some reason, I didn't really want to associate myself with the young Hogwarts student. His entire personality seemed too... pathetic and easily led. Because of this, even the attempt to imagine myself in the role of this boy gave off a strange rage somewhere deep in my chest.
And I looked at my "furry little problem" from a slightly different angle... After all, in my past life, I couldn't boast of heroic health. Asthma, stomach ulcers, hypertension... A killer set of diseases safely inherited by me forced me at the time to spend hundreds, if not thousands of hours in hospital wards of various kinds.
They even refused to take me into the university basketball team because of the thickness of my medical record. And yet I had been passionate about this sport all my life, rushing around to all sorts of competitions almost since elementary school, which made the hereditary health problems, despite a more than healthy lifestyle, seem especially insulting to me.
Remus, in contrast to this, had almost complete immunity to ordinary sores, could boast of heroic health, and even more so — despite his thinness and complete neglect of physical exercises, he was almost several times stronger than any of his peers.
The nature of a werewolf had many advantages. These included heightened senses and superior physical fitness compared to an ordinary human... And if you also worked on this fitness properly, the result could turn out to be completely amazing! Up to the characteristics of some Olympic champions, or even better...
Which is already a lot, if you look at it objectively. And werewolves also have simply beastly health in all other aspects. Nasty curses? Potion intoxication? Wounds that won't heal due to dark magic? Pfft! An adult werewolf can safely ignore most of such trifles.
Up to a certain limit, of course, truly dark curses will hurt even the most resilient of werewolves. But natural resistances to all sorts of nasty things really made my body now an amazingly resilient thing... And even if the forced transformation into a werewolf every full moon is a very serious price to pay for the advantages gained.
But I still prefer to be an optimist, rejoicing in the good and not losing heart because of the inability to do anything with the flaws of my own nature. The example of a depressed and desperate teenager in this regard was very revealing. I absolutely did not want to become his exact copy, reveling in my own suffering and self-pity.
"Besides, who said that it's completely impossible to cope with the bouts of lycanthropy?" I immediately cheered myself up, realizing with some bewilderment that Lupin had never even tried to learn more about his nature.
Or rather, he knew a lot about his nature. But as for looking for a way to take control of himself during a full moon... That was out of the question. The teenager was firmly convinced that it was simply impossible, which is why he didn't try to dig in that direction.
"Reveling in your own tragedy instead of doing something... How very teenage," I shook my head from side to side with something even like amusement, immediately adding to myself that it's by no means only teenagers who suffer from such a "love for personal tragedy."
However, I didn't dwell on this for long. Surprisingly, this little analysis of someone else's life instilled a drop of confidence in me, forcing me to look to the future first and foremost, rather than tearing my hair out over the vexation, resentment, anger, and a whole bunch of other conflicting, but not very bright emotions that bound my heart.
Coming to terms with my own death was really hard, very insulting and bitter... A family, an excellent and dearly loved, even if it had already become routine, job as an architect, grandiose, albeit quite ordinary, plans for a well-fed life in prosperity... Losing all this was very hard and bitter.
And even the effect of a certain "remoteness in time" did not save me. What difference does it make how long ago it feels like you lost everything you ever had. It still doesn't make it any easier... But for some reason, I couldn't get hung up on my own feelings either. The strange, exciting thought that I am now not just an ordinary layman, but quite a wizard, moreover — a real werewolf...
This might not be entirely normal, but for some reason, I didn't want to regret what was already lost.
A well-fed life in prosperity and comfort is, of course, good. I always tried to achieve this, perfectly understanding that in the end, I only inherited sores from my parents. But now, slowly recovering from the recent full moon in the Shrieking Shack and digging through the memories of a third-year Hogwarts student — Remus Lupin...
I was ready to accept the exchange that had happened. Exchanging a quiet and well-fed life for the opportunity to become a real motherfucking wizard! Just like in a fairy tale! Only on top of everything else, also strong, resilient, and very dangerous during the full moon...
"By the way, I need to check my own magical abilities. Because I don't feel any great power or anything unusual in me," I immediately decided to remind myself of an important point.
I can, of course, overthink and fantasize a lot here. Fortunately, I had plenty of time to lie around on the rotting boards. After a night in werewolf form, Remus usually took long enough to recover so that all the people initiated into my secret wouldn't rush to sound the alarm in vain.
But all the thoughts that have already arisen in my head might turn out to be completely useless if all of Remus's magic suddenly disappeared after I got into this body... Or was it still the awakening of memories from a past life?
"Lumos!" I cast aside the completely pointless reflections for a while, trying to create the simplest light spell... and achieved nothing. "Well fuck, now this is no longer funny!"
The fear and disappointment that suddenly gripped me brought even more turmoil to my inflamed mind. My head even spun, and the thought that I was not a wizard at all now sent a painful shiver through my entire body...
"Lumos! Lumos! Lumos!" I shouted the same word almost in a panic, thinking about absolutely nothing. Which, most likely, was the cause of my failures. For after the tenth attempt, when I finally bothered to find the moment in Remus's memories when he himself first used this spell, everything worked out for me.
An even ball of light on the tip of the wand came out easily and naturally, immediately bringing with it a charge of calmness and lightness in the body.
"Phew! I even stopped breathing from the tension... Nox!" I smiled cheerfully, deactivating the spell and immediately lowering my hand with the wand back to the floor. But not for long. "I need to practice the stock of spells already available in my predecessor's arsenal. Otherwise, I'm afraid some embarrassments will definitely be unavoidable."
Coming to roughly this thought, I set about practicing the simplest spells from my predecessor's memory. Those very memories in which Lyall Lupin — the boy's father, taught his son before entering Hogwarts. More precisely, back then the man thought that I wouldn't get into the school at all, which is why the training was quite intensive and comprehensive. But Albus Dumbledore ultimately agreed to accept me into Hogwarts, taking full responsibility for possible force majeures upon himself.
"Here is another mystery, by the way. What does this old man even need from me that he decided to so treacherously violate the charter of his own school by accepting a werewolf as a student? Aguamenti!" I reasoned aloud, quite successfully trying to summon a little drinking water.
The initial uncertainty in my own abilities gradually faded away, and I more and more confidently used the simplest spells from my predecessor's arsenal... However, I still didn't succeed in everything on the first try. Although the skills developed by Lupin helped me walk the already beaten path, it would be incorrect to claim that I had fully adopted them.
Rather, I inherited the teenager's experience, guided by which I managed to quickly get comfortable with simple spells and basic transfiguration, in which my predecessor was especially good. Well, for a third-year at Hogwarts, of course...
"Interesting and very fascinating. But it seems it's time for me to return to the castle before Sirius and James start worrying about me..." I marked the end of the spontaneous training, recalling the names of my friends with some confusion.
Or are they "friends" after all? Perceiving two teenagers — typical representatives of golden youth as my friends was somehow uncomfortable for me.
"However, I'll think about that after meeting them in person," I decided not to rush into conclusions and decisions for now, hoping that time itself would put everything in its place.
The main thing is not to arouse unnecessary suspicions in my roommates. And not to snap at Peter because of dubious knowledge about the future of this world... Otherwise — it's unlikely to even cross wizards' minds that their friend and comrade could be suddenly replaced by someone. The inertia of thinking works in any world. And it doesn't matter at all whether you are a mage or an ordinary person.
In extreme cases, even under a truth potion, I will most likely confirm that I am Remus Lupin, because there is no other Remus in this world. But there are his memory, reflexes, and body, with which it seems I will now have to live...
Kill me, but how strange all this is! I'm drawn to bang my head against the nearest wall. Just so my brains fall into place, and the memory stops tormenting me with a whole kaleidoscope of emotions, feelings, and images. I might just throw up from the slight dizziness.