DISCLAIMER: i own nothing, jk rowling owns everything.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: yay. i FINALLY finished the first chapter. lol. yeh i know it's very confusing now but it wasn't intitially going to be the first and then i realised it worked better this way because now it kind of has a sequence going. if anyone noticed. lol. anyway hope you like it and let me know because this is the most important one to get right and i hope i did and now i am rambling so i am going to stop. now. goodbye. okay just read it.

HIDE & SEEK:

A tawny-haired boy giggled ferociously as he yet again slipped passed his father's outstretched hands. John Lupin sighed but grinned through his exhaustion. Taming his young son was far from possible, it seemed.

The job of raising Remus had never been a relaxed one, and bathtime was no exception. In fact, bathtime was little Remus' least favourite occasion and he always let his parents know it.

He padded around on the carpet jovially on his small, podgy, bare feet. He was a very cheeky boy, Remus Lupin, and almost never did what he was told, straight away at least. But he had a golden heart and he did it without malicious intent and so it was hard not to be blinded by his charm. He knew not to cross the line, and on those occasions when he did, he realised it immediately and apologised. Even at the tender age of five and a half, he liked being liked, not being scolded.

His blue eyes flashed mischievously as his father made another, albeit half-hearted, attempt to grab him. Remus let out another giggle and almost collapsed as one foot slipped on the thick carpet and his small legs went flying. He regained his composure within seconds and was dancing around his father's feet once more. There were far too many close calls where Remus had nearly head butted the coffee table, a bookshelf, the sofa, several cabinets and the wall. It was a very cluttered living room.

The Lupin's bungalow was situated in a muggle village just outside of Blackpool. Martha Lupin had refused to let John bring Remus up around wizards, reasoning that he would spend all his adult years as a wizard so why not let her show him her way of life first. John had accepted if only to keep his muggle wife happy.

The bungalow itself was not big but it nevertheless accommodated its three occupants quite comfortably. It had a very large garden that stretched an acre to the west and south. The three Lupins were very happy there.

The minute Rosalind Lupin had opened the front door, having arrived home from her chat with their neighbour, Meryl Burgess, Remus was out of it like a shot.

"Remus John Lupin, you come back here right no-ow, mister!" John yelled out sternly, though his voice broke halfway through. The full moon winked at him mockingly from the living room window. He pulled himself up off his haunches and leapt out of the door after his son, leaving a stunned Rosalind standing uncertainly by the doorway.

Greyback was out tonight.

Remus sat just outside his father's office on a large and very wooden seat whilst John spoke to Mr Greyback. The muffled voices were rising from inside the office and Remus could not help but note the anger in his father's tone.

"Fenrir, this is unacceptable! You know I can't make allowances, even for friends. I could lose my job for it."

"John, stop being so stiff! It isn't as if I am doing anything illegal. You said yourself it was a good idea."

"That was before I knew who you were going to use to make it happen! And what lengths you would go to achieve it."

"Oh, don't give me that! You knew just what I meant when I said I was appealing to the younger generations."

"Oh please, Fenrir! Appealing to the younger generations? You mean brainwashing them! And how legal, may I ask, are these plans, really? Do I trust that you won't do anything you will regret, because you know how terrible the burden is. You wouldn't inflict that on anyone else, would you?"

"Listen, John," Fenrir spat stiffly, "this is the last time I will ask you. Are you in?"

John Lupin was silent.

"No? Well, if you won't help me then consider this a warning." Fenrir spoke harshly, mockingly. "Of course, your son Remus is just the sort I'm looking for, you know. Yes, he could be brilliant."

Nothing more was said after that comment but Remus heard a thump followed by something heavy knocking into the closed door. He jumped in fright, nearly falling off his chair but composed himself in time to see a red-faced Fenrir Greyback emerging from the office. He paused, though, when he saw Remus.

"Ah, Remus, just the man. How are we, son?" Fenrir touched a calloused hand to Remus' cheek.

"Don't touch my son!" John Lupin hissed and wrenched Fenrir's hand away before standing himself between Fenrir and Remus. "Leave. Now."

"Touchy, touchy," Fenrir snarled but turned his back on them and retreated down the narrow corridor with regal speed.

His toes, dressed in white socks, pressed into the damp grass of the Lupin's vast and open garden lawn. Remus had run as far as his little legs would carry him, which happened to be the downtrodden greenhouse towards the back of their expansive garden. He hadn't dared run further than their house, knowing how dangerous it was and how much trouble he would be in.

The windows of the greenhouse were grimy and cracked, and it was more than a little intimidating to a five year old, but shivering with cold and despite his better judgement, Remus entered the forbidden playhouse.

Perching himself uncertainly on a box of old apothecary jars, he waited for his Daddy to find him. He knew his father was clever, so he would definitely figure out where Remus was hidden, but Remus hoped it would be too late to have a bath by the time he did so.

But after what seemed like days to Remus, and what was actually three quarters of an hour later, John Lupin had still not found his son, who grew restless and more frightened by the second. With tears streaming down his face, Remus shakily lifted himself off the box and climbed back out of the greenhouse.

The cold wind whipped his body, startling him into a tremor of shivers. It stung his wet face and pulled at his long hair. He sobbed loudly and lifted his wet feet in turn and stomped them back down in a childish tantrum. He began wailing for his Daddy to come and get him but to no avail. Then he screamed in a very high-pitched, gurgling way.

The tantrum caught his stricken father, but closer to Remus another figure was alerted to his presence.

The werewolf eyed the distressed boy curiously.

The first scream had sounded upset, but when John heard the horrific secondscream his mind went blank and he felt his knees give way. But he had to find his son. Stumbling slightly, he forced his heavy feet forwards and made for the direction of the terrible cries.

John collapsed at the sight of the tiny, crumpled figure, his breathing hoarse and unnatural. His large frame succumbed to the emotional sobs and he shook tremendously.

"No! Remus! M-my son!" his large hands grabbed at his son's torn and bloodied clothes. Remus wasn't moving, or breathing. John clutched Remus tightly and leaned over him protectively, desperately trying to find a sign of life in his only son.

He ran with Remus held tightly accross his chest to the bungalow and barely whispered his remorse to his wife, whose face paled but said nothing. She seemed not to be looking properly, not to be noticing her son's limp body, his bloody clothes, his disfigured shoulder. And then, quite suddenly, she dropped to the floor and screamed mercifully at the light-polluted sky, clutching her dark brown hair in angst. John looked at her firmly and she nodded weakly. Then he turned on the spot and vanished with a crack. He returned sixteen minutes later, having left Remus in the care of the healers, and Rosalind hesitated for only the smallest moment before clutching his arm and (x) Disapparating herself.

Remus couldn't open his eyes but already knew there was something wrong. His head pounded magnificently and he felt pain he had never experienced before running accross his left shoulder and the side of his chest. He tried to move his head but found he was unable to. Then he tried to move his fingers and again found them strangely numb. Finally he tried opening his eyes and was successful to the extent that they opened mere milimetres. All he saw was white and that was when he realised he was dead. He whimpered softly.

At the small sound, Rosalind rushed to her son's side and grabbed his hand tightly. His insides jumped at the sight of her, prompting him to realise he was not in heaven after all.

"Oh my baby, my baby," Rosalind repeated over and over with tears glistening in her sad, brown eyes. Remus didn't understand nor could he feel or respond to his mother's touch. He only felt his head being stroked and realised by the heaviness that it was his father. He again tried to move his weak head but could not. As if sensing this, John leaned over his son so that he was directly in Remus' line of vision. He, too, had sad eyes but they weren't glistening with tears. They held another emotion but Remus didn't know it. Then he remembered that he hadn't taken his bath yet.

"Do I have to have my bath now?" he asked dejectedly and by barely moving his swollen lips. His voice sounded odd and croaky.

His father smiled weakly down at him but said nothing. Then he shook his head, for a long time, and when he finally stopped Remus realised he had started crying. He also noticed the grey in his father's hair more, and the wrinkles in his face seemed deeper. Even the crookedness of his nose seemed more pronounced. His eyes moved to trace over his mother, who was now shaking in tearful silence. Her long, usually perfect brown curls now hung limp around her heartshaped face. Her porcelain skin was now stained pink and red and her deep brown eyes were no longer shining with the usual laughter but dark with sorrow.

He felt his chest tighten and his eyes widened in fear. The fear swelled in him as his eyes dashed back and forth between his mum and dad, not knowing what was so upsetting and scared of finding out. His questioning eyes rested upon his father, boring into his own, grey eyes. John Lupin just stood there, bent over him, hand resting heavily on Remus' crown and silent waves of shock overcoming him every few seconds.

"Remus," he finally whispered, "the Healers have done their best over the last week but -" he faltered, "- but you have a new, a special - gift - and it - it - you will -"

By the whiteness of his knuckles, Remus realised his mother was squeezing his hand very tightly.

"Remus, you -you're -" she took over softly, "darling, you're a werewolf."

And Remus managed to squeeze her hand back.

Remus grinned the entire tube journey to King's Cross from Charing Cross - having taken a (x) portkey to the Leaky Cauldron - despite the discomfort he was in. Even when sleep finally stole him the smile remained at the corners of his mouth. Rosalind traced a long finger over one of her son's older scars on his cheek, wondering how it would be explained away to his new schoolmates.

She watched fondly as he slept, moving her hand up to run it gently through his tawny hair. It would be the last time in a month that she would see him, and she was deperately clinging onto every last second she had with her only child.

John, sat accross from the two of them, took in his wife's protective position and the deep red scar that adorned Remus' neck, not entirely hidden by his long hair. It was long inJohn's opinion, but as Remus often reminded him in his calm nature, it only just covered his neck.

The Scar ran down from his neck and accross and down his right shoulder. It hadn't dulled in colour at all in the six years it had burdened Remus' body. Remus didn't like that particular scar to be seen by anyone; the others faded, usually vanished by the Healers, but a werewolf bite is permanent. As if he needed another reminder, John thought bitterly.

John was saddened deeply by the effect That Night had had on his once bubbly, carefree and mischievous son. Now, Remus was always careful, quiet and very reserved. He never tried to be cheeky, and he was always so tired. Some of the old Remus remained; he was still charming and affectionate, and John caught the spark in Remus' eyes sometimes; the same spark he used to have when getting up to mischief.

John rubbed his face vigorously, trying to liven himself up a bit. Last night had been a particularly rough one for Remus, and John, who always stayed just outside the locked cellar during full moons, had endured an entire night of his son's painful howls. He hated hearing them, knowing he was to blame for every one of them. Oh yes, his wife often told him it wasn't his fault, that he couldn't place the guilt entirely on his own shoulders but John wouldn't hear it. It was he who had offended Fenrir, he who had practically offered Remus up as bait to him when he failed to stop him running out into the garden. It was he who wasn't quick enough to find Remus before It happened.

Remus stirred suddenly and John was pulled from his guilty thoughts as he watched his son grimace in pain. He was being selfish, wallowing in his own self pity when Remus was the one suffering this morning, the one who never complained, the one who always shamefully apologised whenever they had to uproot and move to another part of the North West, even though it was far from Remus' fault. John sighed and smiled as his son sleepily eyed him.

"Nearly there now."

Remus pressed his nose against the glass, staring out to his parents who were waving sadly up at him. There wasn't another soul bar them on the platform as it was only 7 o'clock in the morning. Most people would only just be eating breakfast, Remus thought as his stomach rumbled hungrily.

He eyed his father, who had his eyebrows raised in a stern stare, telling him silently that he ought to be sleeping. It was for that reason, after all, that they had arrived so early. It always took Remus a good few hours to get into a comfortable sleep and so he needed the extra time before all the Hogwarts students began boarding. He slumped back against his seat and tried to get to sleep, knowing it would be futile despite his exhaustion, because he knew his parents would be stood there on the platform until it left. He felt guilty at the thought. His parents did so much for him and had sacrificed so much, all for his stupidity when he was younger. He'd never disobeyed his parents since, not once.

He closed his eyes and pulled his robes tighter around him, feeling cold from the lack of sleep. The words his father had said to him on the platform kept replaying in his ears.

"No-one can find out, Remus. Promise me now, Remus, that you won't let anyone get that close. You can't, it's just too risky, I'm sorry son." Remus had nodded, knowing he couldn't disobey his father and knowing how easy it would be anyway. No-one would want to get to know him, what with his pale, queasy skin and scars. No-one would look twice. And in any case, his condition had made him incredibly shy; having been shunned so often in his short life.

He took another fleeting glance out the window at his parents, who were now talking animatedly with each other, and sat back heavily against the cushioned seat. His eyes dropped down before he could protest and sleep came very easily to him, indeed. He dreamt about a castle full of magical creatures and spellbooks and enchanted staircases, and the smile reformed on his lips. He was really going. This was it. Remus Lupin was on his way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

(x) For this case i am assuming / deciding that muggles can travel by portkey or by side-along-apparation. it was the only way i could make it work.