Remus Lupin sat in a chair by his fireplace in his small house on the streets of London. He sat by the fire, his dog by his feet, thinking about his life. Tomorrow night was a full moon, and he would go through the same horrible, painful transformation as he did every month. He was tired of hiding who he really was. He was tired of the same miserable treatment from people whom he had told. When he would tell someone he thought was a good friend that he was a werewolf, they would look at him oddly, and never talk to him again. They would avoid him, and cast away his friendship. The only people he could still call friends after telling his secret were James Potter, Sirius Black, and that rat Peter Pettigrew. But now they were all dead. Since Voldemort's death, there was no need for the Order of the Phoenix, the only other group of people who accepted him for who he was. He had taken in Harry Potter like Harry was his own son, but now he never saw Harry, or even owled him.
He tilted his head back in his chair and sat the warm butterbeer on the table next to him. He thought about the fateful day that changed his life - the time he was first bitten by that wretched werewolf from down the street; it was the worst experience of his life.
He had been out with a few of his neighborhood friends that night, all of which were younger than him, and they all really looked up to Remus, as he was the smartest in the group. The entire neighborhood loved him because not only was he the smartest young wizard they knew, but he had the heart of a lion. The boys were all having fun at young Ludo Bagman's home. They were sitting in the kitchen, making small talk, laughing about the small things as young boys do. Remus was playing a game of Wizard's Chess with Ludo. He always won, but Ludo was a persistent boy; he knew the chances of winning increased with each game he played. He got closer and closer every time they played. Remus was about to make the final move of the game when Ludo's mother flew in through the doorway in a panic.
"Boys, it's time for you to leave. Remus, I talked to your mother. Ludo is going to stay the night at your house tonight. Now, everyone, you need to leave!" she said frantically. Remus was worried, and did not know why Mrs. Bagman was acting the way she was. She was always a very calm, endearing lady.
The boys went outside the house, and just as they did, Remus heard a growl come from behind him. The boys jumped as they shrieked in fright. Remus looked behind them and saw what looked to be a big, shaggy dog. It was staring him directly in the eyes. Remus could never forget those eyes - they were as bright as the moon shone that night. Remus knew that it wasn't a dog at all, that it was a werewolf. He had seen them in the books he read, and knew all about them, but had never seen one in person; he had never planned to, either. He was just as scared as the other kids, if not more scared. They had no idea it wasn't a dog. Remus knew better. He didn't dare say anything to the others because he knew they would just be more frightened. Ludo yelped as the "dog" pounced on top of him, causing him to go flying to the ground. Remus hit the animal on the back with his fists as hard as he could, and grabbed a handful of fur as he tried to pull the animal off of his friend. His plan backfired. The werewolf was now angrier than before, and now it was lunging toward him.
The werewolf caught him right in the middle of the chest, leaping upon Remus with all of his might, and knocking him to the ground with a crash. He tried to struggle free of the monster's grip, squirming among the dew-soaked grass. There werewolf did not want to play games with Remus any longer as it sunk its teeth into the left shoulder of Remus Lupin, the ten-year-old boy trapped under the weight of the monster. All he heard before everything went black was Mrs. Bagman's voice yelling at the animal to get off, and calling it by its human name.
"Fenrir! No!" she screamed, whipping out her wand. The werewolf was Ludo's father. That was why his mother was rushing them all out of the house.
He awoke with a startle in his chair, shivering. The fire had burned out. All that was left was a pile of dying embers, smoldering in the fireplace. He thought to himself how the picture of the fireplace right then was a metaphor for his life - slowly dying, seemingly neverending. Slowly, he pushed himself out of the chair, and groggily stumbled across the room to the doorway to grab some more firewood off of the front porch. It was snowing, and it had already accumulated about six inches in his front yard. He threw the wood on top of the pile of ashes and pointed his wand at the wood.
"Incendio," he muttered, his eyes half-shut still, and the wood burst back into roaring flames. In moments, he was dozing back into his comatose-esque state.
He found himself about a month after he was bitten, ready to transform for the first time into the same beast that had changed his life just a month earlier. He was still in St. Mungo's at the time, being watched over by doctors to make sure no complications arose, so he was protected during his first transformation. They put him in a room down in the basement of the building, and chained him to a metal pole connected to both the ceiling and floor. He remembered the feeling, being a ten-year-old boy chained up in the dank basement of a building where the stench of mold engulfed his senses; it was like Azkaban. He felt like an animal. The chain was about ten feet long and was tied around his neck, so as to choke him if he tried to go too far. It was one of the worst feelings of his life, and it is the reason why he never put a chain on any dog he ever owned.
The pain was excruciating, and was unimaginable. He had fallen on the sidewalk before, and fallen down a few stairs. He had even cut himself a few times with a knife since his mother wouldn't let him do magic. But none of that could even compare to the pain felt in his first transformation. He felt every last hair popping out of his skin, and the pain of his head shifting in shape was the worst part of it all. It felt like an explosion was taking place inside of his skull.
"Nobody should have to feel that pain..." Lupin muttered to himself in his sleep, waking up the dog, but he was still fast asleep.
He tried breaking the chain before he was fully transformed, but there was no use. He was simply not strong enough. Once fully transformed, he had absolutely no control, and what went on, he could not remember. His parents told him it was like nothing they had ever seen before, that he was out of control and that he nearly choked himself to death with the chain trying to break free and attack them. They stood outside the room and watched in through a tiny window for a good half hour at their son, with a nurse standing beside them, all with their wands at the ready. When they were just about to leave after seeing enough of their son like that, they heard a snap, and saw the chain whip through the air, broken. Remus charged at the door to the cell and managed to put a large dent in the steel door, rendering him unconscious for the remaining time he was transformed.
Again, he woke up, but this time he was drenched in his own perspiration. He took down the rest of his butterbeer, and got up from his chair. From the cabinet in the kitchen, he grabbed the bottle of firewhiskey, and sifted through some miscellaneous bottles.
"Why me?" he whispered, hanging his head in desperation. "Why me?"
He had endured enough of the torturous memories for the night, so he slipped himself some painkillers he had bought from a muggle man on the street, and washed it down with what was left in his bottle of firewhiskey. Within moments, he was blacked out on the floor next to his dog.