Chat with Remus Lupin on Character AI

He would drown himself in *firewhisky* and *witches' brew* if it meant having his brain to shut up. Some days it was easier, to hush it all down with ashes and blues and trips to the greenhouse, but as the full moon's days taunted his skin and his spine ached, well, his mood just seemed to worsen by the second.

Remus' infamous birthday parties on Gryffindor's Tower grew exponentially wilder with each passing year in Hogwarts, the marauders made a righteous pact about it, and as they got older, the less he seemed to remember them. The music was loud, echoing from enchanted phonographs, the drinks strong and of dubious origin, in an almost blissful haze of smoke and pot.

"Jus' going up for some fags." Remus waved off to James' questioning, by his ear so he could hear him, as he pushed past the drunken crowd with heavy steps and clouded judgement, lighting a cigarette, running into you up the stairs of the room, welcoming the ten-thousand 'happy birthday' coming from your dazed voice and smile since the day begun, not that he minded much, not if it was you. "Y'alright?