Remus Lupin sat at his kitchen table, staring at his hands. Well, he didn't stare at his hands so much as he stared through them at the tablecloth underneath. Perhaps if he focused more on anything else, the voices in the living room would fade into the background.

The cloth's color had faded significantly since its first handmade stitch in the 1930s. Now the color resembled more of old coffee stains than the original canary yellow. Remus found it a bit gaudy, if he were being truly honest. The edges frayed over the years and some of the flowers had "scars" from where the cotton had ripped and was re-stitched. His eyes traced all the tears, light stains, patches, and frays in the fabric. It was a gift to his mum from her mum years ago. It certainly showed its age. Dwelling on the cloth's flaws made Remus uncomfortable and he looked for something else to focus on.

Despite his efforts to ignore the voices in the living room, however, Remus couldn't help listening to the conversation that drifted into the kitchen. He could see his parents in his mind, sitting close together on the neat white sofa, holding each other's hands in their laps as they always did. His mother wearing her standard pastel dress and his father with his thin-lipped expression under a traditional, pencil moustache—meticulously groomed, of course. His father's pipe would be sitting on the table. It couldn't be in his hand, as the conversation never broke for his father to take a few puffs, but Remus could smell the tobacco burning.

"I know what Dumbledore said, Hope, but we have to think about what's best for our son. What if something goes wrong? What if everyone finds out what we've worked so hard to hide?"

Remus's breath hitched. He tried so hard to be a good kid for his parents. The thing about that, though, was that being a good kid wasn't a cure for lycanthropy. Remus didn't know his nails were scratching at the table until he heard the tiniest ripping sound. He looked down and saw a small hole in the already deteriorating tablecloth.

Damn.

In the other room, Remus's father continued, unaware of his son's internal crisis.

"He's a…he's a werewolf, Hope. It's not exactly something people can easily forgive. And if he—Merlin forbid—bites a fellow classmate—"

"Lyall, calm down before our son hears you. Dumbledore should know what he's doing, right?" The sofa's suede material disturbed itself beneath Hope's dress. Remus's mind's eye could see her shifting slightly to prevent her legs from falling asleep. Her limbs were sensitive to things like that. "We may not understand it, but we need to trust that he'll keep Remus's secret safe. Perhaps school can still be a good thing for him. We have to believe that, dear. We…" Remus heard a soft sigh from his mother. "We just have to."

"We worked so hard, Hope. The thought that it could…"

"I know."

"We worked…so hard."

"I know. But Remus is a smart boy. He understands what we expect."

The boy knew they worried about things happening while they couldn't be there to protect him. It wasn't the first conversation they whispered about him behind locked doors or when they thought Remus's sensitive ears couldn't pick up their hushed words. And it wouldn't be the last one, either. It still cut him when they got this way, though. When his condition caused them to get this way.

June 1970

Remus sat some ways away from the kitchen table, nearer to the back door of the house. The clock above his head ticked away the time loudly and he tried to pay more attention to that for now. He needed to allow the adults their own space as they discussed whether or not he should go to Hogwarts. He smelled the warm deliciousness of biscuits in the oven, and he wondered if his mother made them for Dumbledore. The man had a rumored affinity for sweets, after all, and the aroma from the oven smelled of more sugar than usual.

"I think Remus will be a fine fit for the school next year," Albus Dumbledore stated jovially.

He was the headmaster of the school. He also reminded Remus somewhat of the muggle interpretation of Santa Claus. At least, if Mr Claus were thin, with a violet wizard's hat and a broken nose. The boy did find the headmaster a bit strange, though, as the first thing he'd asked Remus's parents when entering the Lupin house was if they had had lemon drops or Bertie Bott's beans.

When no response came to his current assessment, Dumbledore looked at the two oldest Lupins. "You don't agree?"

"We're just worried," Lyall admitted. "About his…condition."

Dumbledore waved a hand, dismissing the thought. "He'll be perfectly safe at Hogwarts."

Remus almost glanced at the old man to see if he were serious. He couldn't believe someone could take the idea of a werewolf attending school with other eleven-year-olds as lightly as this man did. His parents certainly didn't.

"Yes, but how can we be sure?" Hope interjected. "Sir," she added with a small amount of shame. She never liked appearing rude to guests.

"After all, it only happens a few nights a month and he'll be kept away from the other students during those hours, in the Forest." Dumbledore continued as casually as if she'd simply asked the time.

"Surely you can't mean sending him into the Forbidden Forest? Alone?" Lyall asked, an anger behind the question. It was quiet, as if the man forced himself to stay calmer than he wanted to be.

The older man blinked. "Why not? The reason the Forest is forbidden to students is because they don't know how to properly deal with the creatures within and it's easier to get lost among the trees than you might think. They like to move around just as much as the staircases sometimes."

Remus could hear the twinkle in the man's eyes, could hear the smile in his voice. As if only Dumbledore got the joke. Remus himself couldn't find the humor. The thought sounded terrifying to him.

"The creatures won't come after a transformed werewolf, though, and Remus won't attack them either. Werewolves attack humans, you see," Dumbledore said.

His parents remained quiet, so Dumbledore went on.

"Also, learning magic is good for a boy his age. Lycanthropy can tend toward insanity of the host. Magic could help keep his mind off his transformations during the off times, creating a cushion of sorts. A reprieve he could count on to stay stable. It's only a guess, you understand, but I'd say it's a pretty good one. However, I would like to know what the young Mr Lupin thinks about it all."

Remus looked away from the clock in surprise, wondering why Dumbledore brought him into the conversation. His parents tended to do the opposite in discussions; they tried to keep him as inconspicuous as possible. All three adults stared at him now. His father looked worried, his mother shook her head slightly, and Dumbledore smiled.

Remus looked down at his hand in his lap, picking at his nails. Hope hated when he picked at them. In his mind, he could practically smell her mint toothpaste as she leaned over him to pull his hands apart. She wouldn't do that right now, though, because company was over. And Remus needed something more, because the clock wasn't enough for this. It took a few moments to summon the courage to speak. He knew it would make his parents upset, but he couldn't help how he felt. And somehow, he knew this man could tell a liar.

"I…I want to go to school," he said it so quietly, he wasn't sure for a second if they'd even heard him and if he needed to repeat it. He glanced up to be sure of the answer. When he caught the older wizard's gaze, Remus found he couldn't look away.

Dumbledore put the tips of his fingers together, peering at Remus over the top of his glasses. "I want to impress upon you the importance of not letting anyone know of your condition. It could put you and those schoolmates who know in grave danger."

Remus knew the importance. Of course he did. How could he not? But still Dumbledore spoke.

"You don't need to isolate yourself, Mr Lupin, please know that. Just don't let them know there's anything different about you. Do you understand?" He looked at the boy so intensely, Remus couldn't help flushing as he nodded furiously. He felt like a small child under the other's gaze.

"I understand, Professor."

The headmaster looked at the other two Lupins. "You see? Nothing to worry about." When he turned his attention back to Remus, he smiled broadly. Remus tentatively returned the smile.

"I look forward to seeing you in school next year, Mr Lupin."

August 1971

Remus continued eavesdropping on his parents.

"I…I know it's wrong to want this, Hope, but I think it'd be better if the letter never comes." Hurriedly, his father's voice continued, "Of course, if it does come we'll deal with what the letter says. Of course, we will. I just mean…." There was a sigh. "I don't know what I mean, actually."

"I understand. If it doesn't come, then he won't have to go to school where he'd be judged on the prejudices people have." Silence after that—even with the suede material—and then, "Sorry, dear."

Almost on cue, the aforementioned letter shot through the mail slot, down the hall from the kitchen and adjacent to the living room. As if poking fun at its own dramatic entrance, the envelope fluttered to the mat on the floor, coming to rest just outside the archway leading into the living room. Remus knew all three sets of Lupin eyes watched its soft descent with worry. He knew his parents worried about his going away, and he did as well, but he still wanted to learn how to control his magic. He shuddered to think of what could happen if he never did. He looked back to the tablecloth.

The boy sensed more than heard or saw his father coming up beside him. Lyall solemnly handed Remus the envelope. His father's eyes shone with sadness and Remus knew why. When he was younger, his father had raved about Hogwarts.

"Best place in the world for a boy to be."

"You'll meet lifelong friends there."

But Lyall had stopped when they all realized Remus's lycanthropy couldn't be cured as the three had hoped. Remus would never forgive himself for the stress he'd caused his father over the years. He'd never state that out loud, either.

Remus opened the letter.

He expected Dumbledore to have changed his mind. He expected the words, "It is with very real regret that I must inform you that we will not be able to offer you a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this fall…."

Instead, his eyes opened wide as he read the words, "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…"

Remus's heart jumped to his throat. He was quite glad he was seated as his knees went weak enough to have buckled beneath him otherwise. In his peripheral vision, Remus was aware of his mother standing in the kitchen doorway, watching her two boys with guarded eyes. He was just as aware of his father reading the letter over his shoulder and the fact that the latter's fingers had that same shoulder in a vice grip. All of them fretted about Remus and his filthy secret, even with Dumbledore's reassurances. The man's warning rang through Remus's ears until he dropped the letter on the table to rub his temples.

"I need to impress upon you the importance…grave danger…just don't let them know there's anything different about you…."

Different.

Different.

Different.

Well, the headmaster certainly wouldn't have to worry about that particular situation causing Remus's condition to be known. The boy knew the truth, after all.

He wouldn't have friends. Not if he could help it.

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~

theflawintheplan: I'd read a post last year that my friend shared on Facebook. The post simply said HP fans don't want an eighth segment of Harry's story, they want a seven-part series of the Marauder's Era. After making some jokes on my friend's thread, my twin said I should write the story. I decided to take him up on that, so here it is.

I chose to do this from Remus for a couple of reasons. One, he's the Marauder we know the most about personally (Sirius doesn't count, he's crazy by the time we meet him, lol). Also, the werewolves interest me, dude! They're great!

It's still unfinished, but I do plan on going through all seven years of the boys' lives and continuing on with a sequel about the following two decades. If you guys have any ideas or headcanons and you don't mind sharing them with me, I'll try to fit them into the series as much as the timeline I've imagined will allow. It can be about the boys' family lives or school lives, people they interact with, or the sequel. I want this to be for the other fans as much as for me.

I'm trying to make this story my own while maintaining the integrity of Rowling's world (which is harder than some can imagine, lol). Hopefully you guys enjoy the ride with me!