"That's where this all starts – with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten…and if I hadn't been so foolhardy…"

Professor Remus Lupin

Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs; Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

by J.K. Rowling

Waxing Gibbous Milk Moon

"Remus!" The voice came eerily through the foggy air, causing the six year old boy to stop abruptly and turn.

"Yes, mummy!" he called, "I'm here!"

A large, dark shape suddenly loomed out of the mist, and little Remus Lupin gave a startled yelp before he realized that it was only his mother. "Remus!" Jane Lupin said sharply, reaching down for one of his muddy hands, "How many times have I told you to stay close to the house on evenings like this!" She brushed his light brown hair back from his face and straightened his robes before leading him back to the safety of their back porch. "And look at your hands! Where have you been playing?"

"Jus' in the water," her son answered dutifully, "The mud was nice and squishy today."

"I can see that," Jane said dryly, "You seem to be wearing most of it." She sighed inwardly at the thought of more laundry, but she smiled at Remus, who smiled gap-toothed back. "Come on, love, let's get you washed up."

She took him to the bathroom at the back of the house and helped him out of his dirt-encrusted clothes, after she had started the hot water running in the bath. Her son screwed up his face obstinately. "No bath!" he stated firmly, attempting to slide past her and make his escape out the door. "Ah, ah, ah," Jane said, catching his chubby arm and propelling him back towards the tub, "Mummy's little cub isn't going to bed all covered in mud. Besides, you've spent the past several hours playing in the water. What's the difference?"

In answer, Remus let out a howl of protest and began to struggle in his mother's arms. "No, no, no!" he shrieked over the rushing water, "No bath! No! Nooooo!"

"Be still!" Jane ordered, attempting to corral his flailing limbs, "Unless you want to be paddled as well!"

It took several more minutes for Remus to recognize he was losing the battle. When he finally gave up and let his mother lift him over the tub rim and plop him in the hot water, he sat and pouted for a bit longer before getting down to the business of washing. "Don't forget behind your ears," Jane said, getting to her feet and wiping her wet hands on her robes, "I'd rather not scourgify you tonight." Pulling her wand from her pocket, she summoned a towel from the linen closet and sat with it on the low bench beside the tub, watching Remus now happily splash water onto the floor as he scrubbed.

Jane leaned back against the bathroom wall and simply watched, taking in the perfect details of her son's face, marveling at his beauty and in her fortune at being blessed with such a being as this. She had been frightened, at first, of becoming a mother, and her heart still lay beneath the heavy burden of responsibility and awe at the task entrusted to her and her husband. To raise this young boy to honorable manhood… It was a wonder, she thought, that most parents overcame their trembling fears to manage the job even half properly.

"Arefacio," she murmured, casting the drying spell habitually. The young woman glanced up at the window, noticing for the first time that the moon had risen and the fog had cleared. She shifted uneasily on the bench, holding the towel a bit closer. Where was Roger? It was high time her husband Apparated home – he knew Remus looked forward to sharing his cup of warm milk and bedtime story with his father. They all knew such special times didn't happen near often enough.

Roger was employed by the Olivanders, centuries-long makers of fine wands for the wizarding world. His specialty was mating the hollowed-out wands with their cores, a tricky business and one requiring delicate spellwork and a honed sensitivity to matching the unique auras of wood and magical substances. Roger Lupin was an artist, if nothing else, and he loved his work – almost too much, in Jane's opinion. In most cases, he was a loving and attentive father, and Remus doted on him. When Roger became enraptured with a particular wand, however, he stayed long hours at the shop, forgetting sometimes even to eat. It was bad enough, Jane snorted to herself, he insisted upon living out in the middle of nowhere, but when he was hardly there himself, it became much worse.

She shook herself, coming out of her reverie and seeing that Remus had stopped his ablutions and was watching her with a prescient gleam in his light blue eyes. "Have you washed behind your ears?" she asked, brandishing her wand in his direction. He nodded vigorously. "Let me see," she ordered, running her fingers lightly through his brown hair, making him giggle, before gently bending his wet ears back one by one. "Pretty good," Jane said approvingly, "In fact, I'd say that deserves a special treat before bedtime! Hurry and dry and get into your jammies and then hop on out to the kitchen, ok?"

Jane helped her son step out of the tub and into the towel and then headed down the hallway to the small kitchen. She was just pulling the milk bottle from the cooler when there came the sharp 'pop' of Appiration behind her and a pair of warm arms suddenly encircled her waist. "Well, well," her husband said, "What have we here?" "Eeek!" Jane squeaked, "Roger! I almost spilled the milk!"

Roger Lupin gave her a quick squeeze and released her to remove his outer robes. "Sorry 'bout that, darling," he said, "You just looked so good from behind that I couldn't help myself." Jane cocked her eyebrow at him skeptically but allowed a small smile to crook her mouth. "Hello to you, too," she murmured, kissing him on the cheek. "Your number one fan has been waiting since dinner for you to come home, you know."

Roger's expression turned slightly guilty. "I'm sorry, Jane," he said, "It's just I'm working on a new wand now – thirteen inches, ash – and it's being rather difficult. I've tried everything – phoenix, dragon, unicorn, you name it, and nothing has happened yet. I'm afraid I got a little lost in the complexity of it all."

"It's not me you need to apologize to," his wife responded, turning away from him as she took a glass down from the cupboard and poured the milk. From the back of the house came the slam of a drawer and the familiar thumping of Remus yanking on his pajama bottoms and top before hurtling himself out of his room and down the hallway to the kitchen.

"Daddy!" he called, his face alight with happiness. "Ooh, there's my boy!" Roger said, scooping up his son into a tight hug. "How was your day, Remus?"

"Good," Remus answered, "Mummy and I did some phonics and arithmetic, and then we took a long walk in the woods and had a picnic, and then it rained, so hard we got all wet, and then we had hot chocolate and dried up, and then I got to go out again, and then I found some really big puddles that looked just like lakes…"

"And then he was out there all afternoon, just splashing and playing and having a grand old time," Jane finished, "It was marvelous."

"Wish you could've been with us, Daddy," Remus said, laying his tousled wet head against his father's shoulder, "Then it would've been perfect."

Jane and Roger exchanged looks, and Roger held the little boy a bit tighter. "I'm sorry I was so late tonight," he said, "Seeing as how it's bedtime, shall I tuck you in and tell you a story?"

"Mummy said I could have a treat first," their son said, "since I washed up so good tonight."

"Washed up well," Jane corrected gently. "You're right, I did say that. I poured out your glass of milk, and for your treat, why don't you pick out a cookie from the jar?"

Remus whooped with joy and swiftly selected a cookie from the ceramic jar his mother opened for him. He grasped it tightly as he was taken back to his warm little room, snugged securely in his father's arms.

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AN:There will be more, I promise - I've just stalled on this one for the moment.