Howling at Rowling
All Harry Potter Characters created by JKR – oh yes, each and every one.
Summary: Remus' revenge for a life's worth of horrendous imaginings. Humor of the most eloquent kind.
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I Remus Lupin am a werewolf. You made me so. You did it so that you could allow the world to learn a lesson of humbleness; so that they would understand how bad prejudice is when it is directed at the disabled.
BUT IT IS MY LIFE you screwed with, you wench!
First you get me bitten as a young child and despite all of the incredible magical ability abounding in the wizard world, I could not be helped in the least. You thrived on the idea of me going through years of pain; suffering at every full moon, locked up where I couldn't get to any prey and biting and scratching myself. And not a bloody friend in sight.
That was fun.
On to Hogwarts! Ah! Now you decided what I need is a little empathy from Dumbledore. The good-hearted, wise and extremely talented magician who would allow me to attend school. Yeah, talented…where was he all those years I was suffering as a kid? Why didn't he conjure up some type of relief for me?
It would ruin your bloody plans, that's why!
Well your heart knew no bounds and you gave me…friends! Three of the most wonderful friends in the world. Pranksters. Three people who would love me as an individual, wonderful! Oh but of course there was a caveat, they would get me into constant trouble the whole time I attended the school. You even made them open-hearted; you made them become animagi for me! That was wonderful, I could now frolic and have fun with them during the full moon and no more scratching and biting myself.
Oh so lovely except that it remained a guilty pleasure. Your cruelty couldn't be utterly squelched!
I had to hide the fact that I had betrayed the kind old wizard in leading my friends to become animagi and going out with me at high moon to terrorize the country side. Guilty knowing I could – and almost did – kill people on several occasions. And then your treacherous little mind got boiling again. One of my good mates would nearly have another student killed in a bungled prank that left me exposed! Oh you relished the creation of the Snape monster didn't you?
Well on to young adulthood and Moony had gone along semi-happy for too long – for a disabled person. It was time to strike with your ugly ink once again. You killed one of my best friends and his wife, James and Lilly.
That was sweet.
But not enough.
You made my other friend, Peter, responsible for those deaths and at the same time made him betray Sirius! Oh and then run off and live in his animagus form as a rat for the next 12 years – nice touch. Two down one to go!
Gone.
You swept Sirius off to Azkaban for 12 years, making me think he was responsible for killing Peter and for the death of James and Lily! Once again you left me friendless.
Infidel!
But lo! That was not enough, you had only just begun! You rubbed your scaly little hands together and came up with something even more dastardly! "I'll leave him jobless, poor as well as friendless!"
That was your masterpiece.
Here I was, educated, friendless and with no means of employ because you decided that everyone would be too prejudice in the wizard world to employ me. EVERYONE.
Great.
So for 12 years I got to…well you never said, did you. But we presume I lived on the charity of the land because when I next turn up I am in tattered robes and I looked way too old for my age. Thin, pale, ill, exhausted and my light brown hair? Flecked with gray. So, so lovely.
What the hell? You are a piece of work.
Well the bit of good heart you have buried somewhere in your chest came bursting forth and you recalled you had left the little werewolf suffering for 12 long years. While I am sure your cruelty was begging you to leave me suffering, your good side refused. You decided to allow the old wizard to give me a job.
Joy.
Why the hell did he wait 12 years to do so?
But of course I was not allowed to be angry. Only gentle, kind, quiet and good natured, loving and GRATEFUL…grateful that the old wizard, Dumbledore was finally giving me work after 12 long years of suffering and AFTER 7 long years of studying with him as headmaster. There is simply no excuse; he knew of my situation! Why did he wait to act?
It didn't matter. He was still the good guy and I was the poor, disabled werewolf – great stuff for readers and a great lesson for children. See the old man give the poor werewolf a bone! Nice isn't he?
Except that it only lasted for one year. One bloody year and then back to being moneyless again. Only this time you had the grace to saddle me with the dangerous occupation of working with the Order. That meant free room and board at Sirius' old home (lovely) and Molly's home cooking (appreciate that…I wonder if you do.)
Ah and you brought one of my friends back. We forgave one another for having lost faith and hating each other over 12 years and then gave one another a brotherly hug.
I imagine that was the romantic interlude of my life. Thanks.
My other friend Peter, I was made to utterly hate him, finding out all about his duplicity. That was a little gem…well at least you'd given me one friend back. Ravaged and torn, mentally abused and looking like hell…but hey, I can't be picky, I am disabled!
Naturally you took him away again. Oh no, you couldn't even have him last the better part of a year before you dispatched Sirius off into blackness. Not to mention the hell you put poor Sirius through…but I digress.
Friendless again.
Okay, well there was Harry. He was the son of one of my best friends (of which I had none left) and perhaps I could sort of step in for James and Sirius and be a mentor for him. No, no, no…only the slightest amount of mentoring was allowed. After all, anything more would actually give me a role in life, something to do other than play the disabled spy in the background.
To give you credit, you did make the lad like and trust me to some degree and so I had someone to care about. Of course all of those at the Order I suppose were friendly toward me, but you didn't bother to mention it…who knows what anyone really thought about the disabled, werewolf spy.
AND THEN! As if my whole life wasn't already a catastrophe, you decide to secure my ultimate torture by saddling me with a pink-haired, punk-loving, wise-assed chit.
Tonks.
Who in gods name wants to be saddled with a metamorph…A changling? A young changling at that who likely has absolutely NOTHING in common with me. For godsakes woman! I AM A WOLF.
A wolf with a chance for some great sex.
Um.
Well okay, thanks for that.
Anyway, despite the little you have given me, nothing can ever outweigh the atrocities and horrors you have tossed my way over the years. I have found solace no thanks to you. I have found my own kind to live with…friends who have no prejudice and feed and clothe me. Friends who have helped bring back memories of the fun I had with the friends you gave me and then took away.
Friends who howl with me at the moon.
I love them and they love me and I shall live the rest of my life with them in utter happiness (with an excursion now and again to check out the color of Tonk's knickers). I look young again, I am never hungry or lonely and had I known that life could be so sweet merely by escaping your pen, I would have done something about it long ago!
Now I can only think of one word when it comes to you, my dear. One little word.
Revenge.
And I shall have it. No, silver bullets won't kill me – don't even think about it. A stake through the heart? That is for vampires. An eraser? Too late.
Have you ever considered what it would be like being a female werewolf living among Muggles with no access to the wizard world? I've seen the Muggle movies; large crowds chasing the "creatures" through the village with torches and pitchforks…looks like a jolly good time. You would likely love it as much as I did the life you cut out for me.
Consider it over a cuppa and biscuits.
Now you will have to just live in fear because I do not only lurk in forests dear one. You saw to that. Now I can enter houses, even Muggle ones while the owners are sleeping. You do sleep do you not, my dear?
That noise you hear in the night. Yes, be afraid of that noise. No, it is not your imagination. It is your creation. Returned to exact revenge.
And it will be accomplished as eloquently as you had written my life until I escaped you. Be very afraid…no. Be terrified.
Awhoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.
-Fin-