Chapter 1
The wind blew hard as a small boy of five years played at the edge of the forest near his parent's small house, the sun sinking slowly behind the trees as night approached. He waved up at his mother as she sat on the porch drinking a glass of ice tea, knitting a dark brown sweater as she kept an eye on her son. They seemed like a normal family to anyone who just happened to look at them, but in truth, they were a little different. The woman's husband was a wizard and he was the Head of Magical Games and Sports at the Wizarding World's Ministry of Magic, and her son had inherited his fathers power. She was what the magical community called a Muggle, a person who couldn't perform magic or had no magic blood running through their veins. While most non-magic people feared it the moment they came face to face with it, she had found it just another thing that made her husband who he was and she had no problem with magic being a major point in their life. She knew that there were dangers with it, of course, but then there were many dangers in a life without magic anyway.
"Look, Mommy!" the small boy called, rising to his chubby feet as he lifted something to show her, sandy-brown bangs falling into his rosey-round face. The woman lifted her eyes from her knitwork and squinted a bit to see her son held a small four-leaf clover.
"That's a four-leaf clover, Remus. Keep it in your pocket and keep it with you. It's believed in my family that they'll bring you good luck," she told him, smiling. Her family was of Irish decent, and it was obvious that she was completely Irish from her emerald green eyes to her deep red locks. Her son had inherited his fathers genes, looking like a natural British lad. She had wanted a little girl when she'd first found out she was pregnant, one that would have her hair and eyes, but after Remus was born, she found she would have never traded him for an Irish girl. He was her pride and joy, and those who knew her were quick to see he was her endless source of happiness. After he was born, she had caught a flu that had left her healed but unable to bear any more children. When people gave her their sypathies, she assured them that Remus would always be more than enough.
Remus smiled widely and giggled as he placed the four-leaf in the bib pocket of his overalls. He then sat on his bottom once more and played with his little toy black dog. It was his favorite stuffed animal that his mother had given to him on his first Christmas and he rarely went anywhere without it. He had named it Blacky as soon as he had a good grasp on talking.
The phone in the kitchen gave a shrill call, sounding through the open front door. The woman looked up and sighed as she stood, placing her project in her chair.
"Remus," she called. "Mommy's got to get the phone. Be good and play, okay? Don't wander off anywhere. I'll be right back."
She dissapeared inside, unaware that her son, who had heard a snap in the underbrush just inside the forest, hadn't heard a thing. He looked up at the porch, smiling as he found it empty, and stood up. With one more glance at the house, he stepped into the forest and looked around.
A beautiful yellow and orange butterfly perched itself on his nose and he squealed with delight, causing it to take off, deeper into the forest. Giggling, he followed it, unaware that it was growing darker by the minute. Before long, he lost sight of the butterfly and looked around, suddenly scared. It was almost completely dark, though the full moon overhead made the area fairly visable, and he didn't know where he was.
"Mo-mmy?" he whispered, his voice shaking. "Mommy?" His voice grew louder and soon tears were falling down his cheeks.
A snap a few feet away made him jump and squeak. "Mo-mmy?" he called, unsure and afraid. But what appeared before him was not a person at all.
A large wolf stood before him, growling deeply as its eyes fixated on the boy who stood motionless with fright. He lowered its lower half, ready to pounch when the boy took off. With an angry bark, he took chase.
The boy continued to run as fast as his small body could carry him. He looked behind him, not watching the path before him. He fell hard as his foot got caught on an uplifted root. He scrambled to get loose of the root, but he soon heard the hungry, dripping growl of the wolf.
Creeping forward, the wolf sniffed deeply, the smell of flesh and fear enticing its nostrils. It lowered its top half once more and jumped at the boy, mouth open. Its teath caught the boy's leg, hot blood rushing into its mouth as the painful scream filled his ear. It released the leg, sure that it had immobilized the boy, but the boy fought hard against the limb trapping his other foot and ran hard the moment it was loose, ignoring the pain in his wounded leg. He felt odd, lightheaded and different. His body was burning and his mind was clouding. He could hear the wolf behind him, running but half heartily. He didn't even think to be scared of it. He ran until he burst out of the forest, screaming loudly for him mother.
The woman who had come out of her house to find her son gone looked up frantically from her seat on the porch, yelling for her husband as she ran caught sight of her son. Running to him, she gasped as she caught sight of his wound and lifted him, holding him tightly against her body. She placed him on the couch in their living room, brushing her fingers through his hair as her husband phoned the Wizarding Hospital. He'd been almost positive that it was a werewolf that bit his son and he wanted to be sure. He knew that if he was correct, there was almost certainly no cure.
"I'm sorry, Mommy," the boy whispered, as his eyes fell closed. He was burning and his head hurt unbareably. His mother brushed back his sweat soaked bangs and cooed him.
"Shh, honey. It'll be alright, love. Mommy and Daddy will make it all better. Sleep, honey. The doctor will be here soon."
The woman watched as her little boy drifted off to sleep and was nodding off herself when the door bell rang. She jumped to her feet just as her husband let the man in. His white jacket proclaimed Healer Harold Potter, Creature Induced Injuries Department. He shook her husbands hand and sighed.
"I came as soon as I got the call, Mr. Lupin," he said, taking out his wand and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Where is the boy?"
"Right over here, Harold," Mr. Lupin said, leading him to the couch as his wife moved out of the way. He joined her side, holding her close as the man looked over the bite and made a few noncommital sounds. Finally, he sighed and straightened, running his hand through his receding black hair.
"I'm afraid it was as you feared, Ben. He will live, don't fear his life, but the beasts saliva has trasmitted and he is now one himself."
Mrs. Lupin looked up at her husband, and back to the doctor. "One what?"
Mr. Lupin sighed as Harold looked down for a moment and back up once more, eyes locking with the woman's.
"A werewolf, I'm afraid. Every month, on the night of the full moon, he will transform into a werewolf himself. I'm very sorry."
"Thank you, Harold. Do you know of anything we can do? Is there any cure in testing that we can try?"
The bespectacled man shook his head and frowned. "I'm sorry, Ben. There's nothing you can do, but to find somewhere he can transform on the full moon away from you, your wife, and others. That's all you can do."
Mr. Lupin nodded and moved away from his wife after rubbing her shoulders. "Come on, Harold. I'll show you out."
When he came back, he found his wife at their son's side, tears escaping her as she sobbed.
"What about his childhood? School? He was to go to Hogwarts, Ben. Now what are we to do?"
Mr. Lupin went to his wife and pulled her to her feet, hugging her tightly as he whispered into her hair, letting her cry into his shirt. "It'll be okay, Ellen. He'll be fine and as to Hogwarts, we'll deal with that when the time comes and hope for a miracle. For now we have to construct a place so that he can transform in and so that we're safe."
"It'll hurt him, Ben. I don't want our boy to hurt," she cried.
"He'll be fine. He'll get through it, and so will we. Come dear, let us go to bed. We need not worry for another month. Tommorow I'll start building a shack for him. You'll see, it won't be as bad as it seems."
He led her to their room with little resistance and they lay in bed, their thoughts buzzing with unanswered questions and fears, before they fell into a deep sleep accompanied by similar nightmares.
Little did they know, six years down the line a new man would come to be Headmaster and he would allow their son to come to learn at Hogwarts, with some precautions, of course.
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Disclaimer: I do not own Remus or Sirius, though I do very much wish I did. They belong to J.K. Rowling.
Note to readers: This is my first time posting one of my fanfictions so I hope you will put up with any mistakes I may have made. Hope you like it! Let me know what you think.