Disclaimer: Unless you were absent the day that they handed out brains, you'll be aware that I, unfortunately, am not J.K. Rowling, and, therefore, Remus Lupin and any of the other characters that you may recognize from the Harry Potter novels are not my property.

Reviews: I'd love to hear from you if you have the time to submit a review, especially since I've just begun this story, and I want to know if I ought to continue it, or not. I respond as promptly and as politely as possible to all signed reviews. Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not. (By the way, the grammatical mistakes in Remus' and Chet's dialogue are intentional, because they are so young. However, if you notice any other errors in my story, please feel free to point them out respectfully in a review, and I will fix them as soon as I can.)

Wands, Duels, and Hatreds

Remus Lupin had a list of things he absolutely detested that he carried about in his head wherever he traveled like his own personal luggage, even if his mum insisted that, at the tender age of six, he was much too young to truly hate anything. As far as he was concerned, the age argument was complete nonsense, because, after all, one didn't have to be very old, or very clever, for that matter, to know enough to loathe spinach, turnips, and sprouts, which were all clustered at the top of his mental list of the things that he hated. However, his dislike of vegetables was exceeded by his hatred of his Aunt Mildred, Uncle Brendan, and his cousin Chester, or Chet, as he was referred to familiarly.

In his mind, Remus was aware of the fact that he should not detest his father's older brother, who worked in research alongside him at the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic, but he couldn't resist the temptation to do so. He hated Uncle Brendan, because he always addressed Remus in a slow voice, as though convinced that the lad could not comprehend English, otherwise, and he insisted upon calling Remus "son", even though Remus wasn't his son, and didn't want to be, although if he was, he would have been as pampered as Chet.

As for Aunt Mildred, why in the name of Merlin did she feel compelled to pinch his cheeks so hard whenever she greeted him or bid him farewell? Also, why did she have to give him all those old clothes of Chet's, who was just two years Remus' senior, knowing fully well that he would have to squander time he could have invested in re-reading one of his favorite books scribbling a polite thank-you note to her with his mother's assistance, even though all the gratitude he felt wouldn't have been enough to fill a quarter of a teaspoon?

Still, he hated Chet the most. It was Chet who always lead him into a mountain of trouble approximately the size of Mount Everest. Only Chet could have the charisma to inspire him to dare deeds he would never have imagined doing on his own. Therefore, it was Chet whom he hated the most, because it was Chet who had the most power over him, and who made him forget how much he hated him, until he had landed him in another dangerous scrape. However, the reason he probably loathed Chet so much was that his charm wasn't limited to Remus. No, it was always Remus who was punished for their stunts, and never Chet, because Chet could always wiggle himself out of any really horrible sentence that Uncle Brendan or Aunt Mildred might have given him.

"I don't wanna go to Aunt and Uncle's house," Remus pleaded with his mother, as she bore him downstairs, so they could Floo to Aunt Mildred and Uncle Brendan's residence.

"We didn't ask if you wanted to visit them or not," his dad, who was descending the stairs behind them, reminded him.

"Aunt Mildred did," Remus pointed out. "She sent an owl asking if we wanted to come over this Saturday. I don't wanna. Wanna stay here, Daddy."

"You can't stay here," his mum informed him, as she placed him on the carpeted living room floor beside the marble fireplace. "You must come with us, because there is nobody here to care for you."

"I'll be good if you leave me here alone, Mummy, I promise," he implored, widening his hazelnut eyes like he had witnessed his cousin Chet do with his sea colored ones whenever he wanted to manipulate another person into doing whatever he desired.

"You'll be good, regardless of where you are, or you'll suffer the consequences," his dad, who had evidently lost his patience, remarked, his tone short.

Remembering with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach how Chet could always twist him into disobeying the rules, even if he knew it would earn him a time-out, or the day spent in his room without his favorite toys and books to serve as a diversion, Remus doubted that he would be as well-behaved at his Aunt Mildred and Uncle Brendan's house as he would be in his own home. However, this did not strike him as a prudent statement to make, when it could be misconstrued as evidence that he had been plotting to be naughty all day long once Chet inevitably twisted him into some wrongdoing or other, and, so he remained judiciously quiet while his parents each took one of his small hands in their own, dropped a handful of dust into the fire, and Flooed to Aunt Mildred and Uncle Brendan's.

A handful of seconds later, they had arrived at their destination, and Aunt Mildred immediately jumped out of her white leather sitting room sofa, which, Remus had learned, was surprisingly easy to stain with pumpkin juice, as he had done on several occasions when he had visited with his parents, and hugged and kissed his mother and father, exclaiming in her shrill voice how delighted she was to see them again. Then, the moment that Remus had been dreading hit, when she swooped down upon him.

"Oh, Remus, it's simply marvelous to see you again, sweetie," she trilled, bending over at the waist to pinch his cheek so tightly that his forced smile was transformed into a wince. Fortunately, she did not notice this, because she had never glimpsed one of his real grins, and so thought that his expression was the one he always wore when he was happy, which could not have been farther from the truth. "I think you've grown again, too, haven't you? Well, I'll just have to rummage through the attic again, and hunt out some of Chet's old clothes to send you once I get a chance."

"Don't wanna be a trouble to you," mumbled Remus, as he always did, already aware of her response to this. Indeed, as he had anticipated, Aunt Mildred waved this aside, assuming it was a matter of politeness, rather than of desperation.

"It is no problem at all, love," she reassured him, and then she finally stepped back to permit her husband, who had shoved himself out of his corner lounge chair, to greet his younger brother and sister-in-law.

"Hello, Maggie doll." Uncle Brendan's voice was slow and deep as he kissed Remus' mum on each cheek, and Remus watched with disgust as his mother returned the regard, although her voice was far softer and more pleasant, and she deserved to kiss someone better than Uncle Brendan on the cheek. Once he was finished with greeting Remus' mum, Uncle Brendan focused upon his brother, whom he clapped on the back in a gruff welcome. "Hey, Robby boy, it's been a long time, no see—since yesterday at work."

Before Remus' dad could reply, Uncle Brendan had turned his attention upon Remus, instead, something that did not prompt the boy to go into spasms of delight. "Hello, son," he commented, ruffling his hair in what must have been intended as an affectionate gesture, just as Remus saw him do with Chet.

When Uncle Brendan stepped back, he indicated that his son should come forward to greet the visitors, but Chet, who was curled up like a panther in a chair on the other side of the room, merely waved a languid hand at them by way of a welcome, and then returned his attention to staring at the sky-blue walls engulfing them all. Unlike Remus' father, who would have scolded his child for this display of direct disobedience, Uncle Brendan only chortled and shrugged, as though this behavior was not only acceptable, but adorable. Remus felt his hatred of his cousin rear its ugly head once again, and he did nothing to suppress it.

"Please be seated, and help yourself to some appetizers." Aunt Mildred directed her three guests into the sofas surrounding the oak coffee table that was in the center of the living room, on which a platter arrayed with carrots and celery with some sort of creamy dip on the side, and some cheddar cheese and crackers rested. Next to the plate, was a bowl of Aunt Mildred's homemade punch, which, Remus knew from experience, tasted like medicine he got from the Healers when he had a cough.

While his mother and father ate the carrots and celery, Remus nibbled away at the cheese and crackers, not caring if Chet would mock him for looking like a mouse later on. After a couple of minutes, Chet deigned to approach the coffee table to grab some cheese and crackers for himself, and when he came over, his mum suggested, "Chet, honey, why don't you take Remus upstairs, so that the two of you can have some fun playing together?"

"All right," agreed Chet. Pivoting about to regard Remus, he added, "I gotta new potions set from Dad last week. Wanna come up to my room with me, and see it? We could have lots of fun messing around with it."

Envisioning all the explosions that could result from fiddling around with a toy potions set with Chet, Remus shook his head, figuring that he could not be responsible if the house blew up, if he was not in the vicinity of the potions set when the house shot up into space like one of those silly Muggle rockets Dad had shown Remus once in a Muggle newspaper.

"Well, I'm gonna go upstairs to play with it, even if you don't wanna come with me," Chet asserted, before darting from the room with his sleek blonde hair bouncing up and down as he departed.

After Chet left, the four adults appeared to forget that Remus was among them, for they began yammering on about the rising influence of a group of evil people called Death Eaters, who seemed to enjoy torturing and murdering other beings the way most people liked to play Quidditch or curl up with an excellent book, and the growing influence of a terrifying and shadowy figure whom they called You-Know-Who was having upon the government. Personally, Remus found it very vexing that they babbled on at such length about this You-Know-Who lunatic without even mentioning his name once. How come everyone else seemed to understand who he was, when Remus had no clue who he was?

Since he was so clueless about the topic of discussion, he soon lost interest in the conversation, and, since he had run out of crackers and cheese to much on, he sighed, and determined that involving himself in Chet's latest scheme was better than dying of boredom. When he reached this conclusion, he pushed himself off the sofa, and left the room without saying good-bye, figuring that it would be ill-mannered to interrupt the adults, when they were engaged in such a riveting discussion, for such a trivial matter. After he exited the living room, he proceeded down the narrow hallway, which was lined with mirrors, and then climbed the staircase at the end of it. When he arrived at the second floor landing, he turned left, and entered Chet's bedroom.

It transpired that Chet was not playing with his potions set, although the fact that vials were strewn about the floor perhaps attested to the fact that he had done so previously, had gotten bored with it, and had been too lazy to clean up afterwards. Instead, he was jumping up and down on his bed, and he didn't stop, or even look guilty when Remus appeared, and Remus scowled, because he knew that his parents would put him in time-out if he jumped on his bed, and that, if he did not put his toys away, they were likely to end up in the rubbish bin.

"Get outta my room," Chet ordered when he spotted his younger cousin.

"You told me I could come up here earlier," protested Remus.

"And you said that you didn't wanna come up with me," Chet countered, still jumping up and down, like a vertical pendulum.

"Changed my mind."

"Too late."

"I'm bored," whimpered Remus.

"Not my problem."

"You always know how to have fun." A faint note of desperation entered Remus' voice, although he had tried his best to suppress it. "I wanna have fun."

Chet didn't answer for a long moment, and Remus was afraid that his cousin was ignoring him in an attempt to drive him of, but then Chet asked in an offhand tone, "Ever been in a duel?"

"No. Don't have a wand."

"You can get a wand, idiot," Chet informed him.

"Not until I'm eleven." Remus shook his head in negation.

"Borrow your dad's wand, or your mum's, stupid." As he established as much, Chet rolled his eyes as if Remus was an utter imbecile not to have realized this on his own.

"They won't let me. Say I'm too young to use one."

"Don't ask for it, prat," snorted Chet. "Just sneak up on them when they're busy, and slip it out of their cloak."

"I'd get in trouble," pointed out Remus. "Don't wanna be in trouble."

"Well, if you care so much about not getting punished, then you'd better get outta here now, because I don't wanna play with a baby, and the only thing I wanna do with you now is a real Wizarding duel."

"We don't know any real magic," Remus argued. "We couldn't even duel, even if we stole wands."

"We'd learn it as we went along, idiot." Chet gave a particularly high jump on his bed to emphasize this contention.

Remus sighed, feeling the frustration that his cousin alone inspired in him, because Chet was one of those rare people it was impossible to refuse. He had charisma. He made you care what he thought of you, and then he used that caring to his advantage, and that was how he manipulated Remus. Even if he couldn't articulate this, Remus sensed that this was the case, but he was helpless to stop it. Chet had him trapped, and it was Chet who had all the power in their relationship, and he was hardly likely to relinquish it.

"All right," Remus mumbled by way of a concession at last, "I'll go downstairs with you, and steal a wand from my parents."

"Whatever." Looking indifferent, Chet bounded off his bed, and tip-toed with the quiet grace of a cat down the stairs and through the hall with Remus edging along as silently as he could in his wake. When they arrived outside the living room, they saw that the adults were still deeply engaged in their conversation, and Chet muttered, "Good. They're busy."

Then, he sauntered over to his dad, and slipped onto his lap, while Remus, following his cousin's lead, crossed the room, and settled himself on his father's lap, as well. Their parents acknowledged their presence with pats on the heads, and soon returned to their conversation, which was still centered around You-Know-Who, and Death Eaters, and depressing stuff like that. His eyes riveted on Chet, Remus watched his cousin's hand creep into his dad's cloak, and withdraw the wand he stowed there. Copying Chet's movements, Remus stuck his hand into the pocket that he knew held his father's wand, and pulled it out, his heart beating so loudly that surely his dad heard it, or felt it.

Apparently, he didn't, and Remus was able to retreat out of the room behind his cousin. When they got upstairs, Chet arranged them on opposite ends of the room. They had just finished bowing to each other as Chet declared they ought to do, because that was what grown-up witches and wizards did prior to a formal duel, when shouts reached them from the floor below.

"Where on earth did my wand go?" yelled Uncle Brendan.

"And where did mine go?" Remus heard his father's voice sound through the ceiling, and he trembled, because his dad's voice was furious. Yes, this had definitely not been one of his more brilliant ideas. In fact, it wasn't even in the top hundred, or even thousand. Why, oh why, in the name of Merlin and Dumbledore and every other wise white-bearded wizard that had inhabited this planet since the dawn of time, did he always allow Chet to lead him into trouble? Why couldn't he be a good boy? Why did he have to play the Adam to Chet's Eve, or the Eve to Chet's serpent?

Remus barely had the chance to emit a moan before two feet charged up the stairs, their steps heavy, and raced into Chet's bedroom.

"What is going on here?" snapped Remus' father, walking over to his son, and wrenching the wand out of his hand, as Uncle Brendan relieved Chet of his wand.

"Chet wanted to have a duel, Daddy," Remus explained, his tone barely above a whisper. He stared at the floor, knowing that he was going to receive a lecture, and probably a dreadful punishment, as he heard Uncle Brendan tell Chet to just ask to borrow the wand next time, so that Uncle Brendan could be sure that he didn't accidentally use magic with it, and that it was not a good idea to engage in a duel with his cousin when they both didn't know magic. Still, he couldn't resist glancing at Chet as he left the room beside Uncle Brendan, and he knew by the other lad's smirk that he was not repentant in the slightest, and that he would probably continue similar behavior in the future. And he wouldn't be punished for it. Life was so, so unjust, and most of its injustices happened to Remus, in yet another display of unfairness.

Unfortunately, his dad noticed that his eyes were trailing Chet out of the bedroom, and he shook the boy. "Pay attention to me, not Chet. Now, what could possibly have made you think it was okay to steal my wand?"

"Borrowed," faltered Remus, "not stole."

"Borrowing without permission is the same as stealing," his father educated him. Although his voice was stern, there was a trace of dry amusement glittering in his brown eyes, though Remus knew better than to count upon that. "Now, answer the question."

"Chet wanted to have a duel, and we needed wands," repeated Remus, staring at the floor again.

"And you decided that it was a good idea to take mine." Since it wasn't a question, Remus elected not to reply. Shaking his head, his dad continued, "Remus, wands are dangerous things. They channel a witch or wizard's power, and you do not yet have enough maturity to handle that power. That is why you are supposed to wait until you are ready to go to Hogwarts, where you will be trained to harness your magic properly by educated professors who have an idea of what they are doing. That is why you are not supposed to play around with my wand, or your mum's wand. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, Daddy." Remus nodded, though he did not comprehend some of the larger words, such as "harness", but he did not want to seem disagreeable at the moment. It would be best if he acted apologetic, quiet, and obedient at this point, so that he wouldn't dig himself a deeper hole, or grave, for that matter.

"Since you were untrained, you ran the risk of injuring your cousin forever," his dad's lecture went on. "You had no control over your power, and so anything could have happened to him. Also, since your cousin has never been to school, either, anything could have happened to you, as well. Do you still follow me?"

"Yep, Daddy." Again, Remus nodded, figuring that he got the gist that he and Chet could have accidentally hurt each other, although he would not have been devastated if he had injured Chet. Still, it wouldn't be good if Chet had wounded him, so this Wizarding duel thing wasn't exactly an adventure that he was looking to repeat. A feeling of hope was developing inside him, too, because it seemed like all he was going to get was just a lecture, and that wasn't so bad. It wasn't a time-out, or time in a bedroom without any source of entertainment, or going to bed without supper, or an early bedtime, or a spanking, or any other degree of punishment. It was just a temporary assault on the ears, and then it was over, as long as he wasn't stupid enough to make the same mistake again, because his dad had a long memory, and would remember this offense, so if he did it again, he would have a harsher punishment for having been let off this time.

"Good. You can think about it in the corner when we get home, and you'll have plenty of time to do so, because you won't be joining your mum and I for supper, and you'll be staying there until bedtime," his dad ruled, and Remus mentally kicked himself, an astounding feat, for jinxing his luck, and complained inwardly about the cruelty of a father who would wait until the last minute to deliver the zinger, instead of handling it first thing.

When Remus and his parents got home an hour later, Remus went to the time-out corner, as he was supposed to. However, he did not think about the duel. All he thought about was how much he loathed Chet, and Uncle Brendan. He wanted something dreadful to happen to them, like being killed by a rampaging hippogriff, or being gobbled up by a Welsh Green dragon.