Author's introduction:

Welcome to the longest Lupin fanfic in the world. As this story has gotten so long I thought I'd insert a little introduction here to summarise the plot.

The story follows the main story arc of the HP series from book 1 to book 7 (although I kind of skip book 2), but describes the events from Lupin's point of view and explains what happens to him when he's not present in the books. For instance, for most of book 1 and 2 Lupin lives with his mother in Ireland, in book 4 he helps Sirius break into number 12 Grimmauld Place and makes en enemy of a vampire, in book 5 he invents spells for the order, meets a pack of werewolves and falls in love with Tonks. We are on book 5 at the moment. Book 6 and 7 will describe how the war escalates and all the tragedies it brings and Lupin will face some very difficult challenges.

The story as expected explores a lot of themes, including friendship, love, depression, grief, disability and prejudice. I hope I do each of these complicated issues justice. I also hope you enjoy reading the story as much as I enjoy writing it!

Disclaimer: The character names, places and spells that you recognise belong to JK, as well as some of the dialogue.

Seven Years

He winked at me, a cheeky grin spread across his face and mischief in his eyes, as if he knew a secret I didn't. Then he laughed. James was never very good at keeping secrets. The man standing next to him was though. My insides coiled into tight angry knots and my face felt tense with a bitter scowl. The last ten years were all his fault. Those horrible wretched god forsaken years! It was his fault they were dead! His fault I was alone! His fault Harry was starting Hogwarts having never known his parents. Rage overtook me. I threw the box of photos off my lap and stood up. With the photo of James and the traitor in my hand I walked towards the window. Under the summer light that filtered through the window, the faces of the two young men seems to glow in an unearthly manner. They looked so happy and so like brothers. And to think, this was taken just a year before the one would kill the other.

I pulled out my wand and pointed it at Sirius's face.

"Incendio." I hissed and I burnt our the traitor's face. Once Sirius was reduced to an ashy hole, James looking on in surprise, I let the photo fall to the floor. I didn't feel any better. For no matter how much I hated him for taking everything I loved away from me, I still missed him. I missed the man I thought he was. The kind and witty man I used to consider my greatest friend. Even now I still found it hard to believe he had been an informant to Voldemort all that time.

My mind didn't want to accept it. Sirius loved James! He loved us all. Of all the order, I suspected Sirius the least. Even Moody, who trusted no-one, was more convinced the traitor was me than Sirius. From an objective viewpoint, I was a much more likely suspect. Alone, bitter, poor and a werewolf. I'm surprised more of the Order didn't accuse me.

With a long sigh I began to pick up the photographs and put them back. Hagrid had asked me for some pictures of James and Lilly to give Harry as a birthday present. I had selected some of the best ones. Being the photographer I wasn't in most of them but Sirius had managed to leap into almost all, usually to James and Lilly's amusement. While I hated having my picture taken, Sirius loved it. I tried not to include photos with Sirius in the selection to send to Harry, but some of the best photos of Lilly and James were marred by the traitors face. Like the one of their wedding. I picked the photo in question from the pile. James and Lily were looking at each other with matching smiles. They looked so very much in love, so mutually obsessed with each other. And Sirius was standing next to them looking at me. He had a similar smile. So full of love. I hated him, yes. But I also missed him.

With the photos in my hand, I walked downstairs to the kitchen where my owl was on her perch having a little snooze.

"Artimis?" I said gently. The owl woke with a soft hoot then flew to my shoulder. She nipped my ear while holding out a foot for me to attach the photographs. She was such a friendly owl, which was unusual for a short eared owl, but I had had her since she was a owlet, having found her abandoned, and hand reared her, so she was very attached to me. I tied the letter to her foot and she shifted down to my forearm and waited for me to tell her where to go. I walked to the window with the owl on my arm.

"Take these to Hagrid would you Artimis." I told her before she flew out of the window to deliver the photos, leaving me alone in my dismal dreary dwelling. I turned around to look at the kitchen. God, it was a mess. I hadn't felt like cleaning for a while. Nor cooking, judging from the amount of take-away boxes that littered the room. If an untidy kitchen wasn't evidence that I was not myself, then take-away food was. I loved cooking – well, I used to – and hated fast food. Plus I couldn't afford it. I groaned at the thought of money. I was so deep in debt moving to a muggle flat and getting a muggle job seemed my only option. No wizard would hire me. They gave all sorts of reasons why: I wasn't what they were looking for, I didn't have enough experience, blah blah blah. I knew the real reason. I could see it in their faces when it came to the bit in the form where you have to declare any health problems. Their eyes scanned the section and their cheeks paled. Then, no matter what they had previously thought of me, they looked at me as if I was about to jump across the desk and bite them there and then.

I squeezed the bridge of my nose to try and numb the stinging that had just began in my eyes. I couldn't seem to pull myself together today. Ever since I got the letter from Hagrid about Harry. Poor Harry... Tidal waves of guilt hit me. I had never visited him. I wrote to his aunt and uncle once, asking if I could. They sent a rather curt letter back, more or less, telling me to shove off. So I obeyed their wishes. But that wasn't the real reason I didn't visit. The real reason was because I knew Harry would remind me of everything I had lost. And I couldn't bare it.

I sat down at my kitchen table feeling altogether overwhelmed. I didn't often feel this defeated, this hopeless, this utterly alone. I didn't let myself. But today...today I didn't have the energy to fight it off. Today I wished I were a better potion maker so that I could brew some eternal sleep. Yes, I said it. I know it's pathetic, I know it's cowardly. But I can't help it. That's just how I feel today.

The sound of a fist hammering on my front door jerked me from my morbid contemplations (thank God!). I desperately hoped it wasn't the landlord. I was ridiculously behind on my rent, and there are only so many times you can say 'I'll have it by next week' before someone realises you're lying. Maybe it was Dung come to ask me out for a drink – or try and sell me something. Maybe it was Heather from across the hall come to ask for some sugar – literally if I'm being realistic, euphemistically if I'm being hopeful. Maybe it was Professor Hawthorne come to offer me my job back. Maybe it was Sirius escaped form Azkaban come to tell me that he was innocent and it was all a huge misunderstanding. Maybe it was Dumbledore to ask me to teach at the school. Maybe it was Archibald Asclepius with a cure for lycanthropy.

The hammering continued. Then I heard my landlord's voice.

"Come on Lupin, it's been three months!" He yelled. I contemplated how immoral it would be to obliviate my landlord, and then whether I'd get caught.