Remus Lupin: The Missing Years
Chapter One
As Remus Lupin collapsed in a chair, he felt his world as he knew it do the same. Images flashed through his brain at a rapid pace, and he stuffed his fingers in his ears, trying to shut out the rushing sound he heard. His life had never been a picnic. No sir, it certainly was not. But there was one thing that had made it bearable, even fun: his best friends.
James Potter had been one of the first people he met at Hogwarts in his first year. They were in the same room in Gryffindor, and James' snitch had awoken him very early on their first morning. It had gotten loose from James' trunk, and after fifteen minutes of chasing it around the dorm, they had become friends. James was by far his most athletic friend, and never seemed to mind getting into trouble. James was passionate about three things: Quidditch, pranks, and Lily Evans.
He was then introduced to James' best friend, Sirius Black. Sirius was surely the most handsome boy in Gryffindor, including the older students. Of course, he knew Sirius was aware of his good looks, but it never seemed to affect Sirius. Sirius was a loyal, true friend, and was even more mischievous than James. He had spent one whole afternoon in their second year creating a potion that, when added to someone's (in this case, Severus Snape's) drink, would make Snape's hair blink red and gold for two whole weeks. In Sirius' mind, if you were his friend, he would defend you till the end of time. If you weren't, well, watch out.
The three boys spent almost all their time together, and another boy, Peter Pettigrew, tagged along. Peter was a plump boy with straw-blond hair and very pink cheeks. At first, Peter's constant praise was annoying (he ended up wearing out the back of James' shoes by walking so close to his heels), but after awhile, it became as natural as the morning owl post. Peter wasn't a very extraordinary boy; he wasn't a genius, nor a superstar athlete, nor incredibly handsome. He was just Peter. And, strangely enough, he balanced his friends out.
By the beginning of their second year, they had played more pranks than Hogwarts had ever seen, and were secretly referred to as the Marauders by many of the Gryffindor house. All four boys liked that name. They continued to use it, even after graduation. Later on in their second year, Remus had told his best friends something he had never told anyone else: he was a werewolf. He had put off telling them sooner because, before coming to Hogwarts, he was friendless, and he didn't want to end up that way once again. But James, Sirius, and Peter couldn't help but notice Remus' monthly disappearances, and they just didn't believe his story about visiting his sick mum. In their fifth year, they surprised Remus by learning how to become animagi, and their nicknames were born: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.
But none of this mattered anymore. Because two of Lupin's friends were dead, and the other was in jail for murder. And it all happened in a matter of hours.
Remus' hand trembled as he reread the letter Professor Dumbledore had sent him by express owl:
Remus,
You have undoubtedly heard of what has befallen your best friends by now. I must, first of all, extend my greatest sympathy towards you. James and Peter were good men, and the wizarding world will truly miss their presences. And as for Sirius, well... he was also a good man. A good man that made some wrong decisions.
I do not want to leave you alone in this difficult time. I extend an invitation to you to come see me at Hogwarts. I want to speak with you, and perhaps we can help each other a little.
Sincerely, Professor Dumbledore
Remus crumpled the letter and whipped it into a dark corner of his three-room house. He had not bothered to light any candles, save for the one beside the chair in which he sat. What was the point? His heart was shrouded in darkness; his eyes might as well be, too.
He would not go and see Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore was an amazing man, and he had always helped Remus. But now, standing in the ruins of what was once his life, Remus simply couldn't see how Dumbledore could help him this time. What could he do? They could sit, have tea, and discuss the tragic events of the past night. Why on earth would Remus want to relive such horrors? No, Dumbledore would not be able to help him. Staying here, in his tiny London home, would not help him. He needed out.
Remus tore into the bedroom and threw several articles of clothing, a book, and a sackful of galleons into a bag. He crossed quickly through the rest of his house and out the front door, not bothering to extinguish the forgotten candle. Remus Lupin needed out. Out of his house, out of London, out of his previous life.
And out he got.