The Fall of an Angel

J.K. Rowling did some writing on Pottermore about the Lupin family, and Remus's mother is killed sometime before the end of the first wizarding war. How? I didn't know, so here goes: The Fall of an Angel. It's mostly Remus's reaction, but if it's successful I'll write her death, maybe her funeral or what happened to Lyall, her husband. If you can suggest any other angels that fell, I can add more chapters.

Enjoy!

They filed into the potions classroom, and Remus reeled from the fumes that surrounded him. Tomorrow was the full moon, and he was already nauseous without the heavy scents, so the thought of spending the three hours in here was not a pleasant one. Already, the young werewolf's head ached, his nose and the back of his throat was stinging and raw, and sweat beaded at the back of his neck. He looked up with watering eyes: Slughorn stood by the blackboard, finishing a set of new instructions for today's potion.

They all got to work immediately. Remus worked with Sirius, trying to ignore the dull ache that filled his entire body. The air was damp and heavy, so Remus's brain was sluggish and slow. The only condolence was that after this it was lunch: a well-deserved break after the double period of potions.

He was grinding the moonstone when it happened. There was a loud knock on the door, and Professor McGonagall opened it. Without words, Remus knew immediately that something was terribly wrong. Her mouth was a grim slash across her face; her usually regulated hair was falling out of her bun; her glasses were slightly askew and her eyes were cast downwards.

Professor Slughorn looked up, and called joyfully, "Professor! Is there something you need?"

Professor McGonagall remained grim. "I'd like to speak to Remus Lupin, please."

"And how long will he be gone for? We are brewing a vital potion for the OWL curriculum."

"I expect for the whole lesson - both periods." McGonagall looked even more sorrowful as she said that. She looked at Remus, and with a wavering uncertainty in his heart, he followed her out, leaving a confused class behind him.

Each footstep seemed to add the the foreboding sense in his heart. Professor McGonagall was leading Remus deep into the castle. "Have I done something wrong, Professor?"

"No, Mr Lupin, I should think not. Let me explain in the privacy of my office. I'm afraid it isn't good news."

So - still with the mounting dread - Remus followed his head of house.

Professor McGonagall's office was small but strangely overwhelming. Of course Remus had been inside before - the Professor had told the Marauders off for many different pranks - but now, with the Professor looking so flustered, Remus felt like the twelve-year-old having his first detention.

The walls were beige, and the desk was mahogany. Bookshelves lined the walls, as well as a small Gryffindor flag hanging by the window. Very ordinary. Suddenly malevolent.

They sat.

"Have a biscuit, Lupin."

Remus obeyed.

"I'm afraid the news is grave. There was another attack this morning in Suffolk. I'm so sorry, Remus. Your mother was killed."

Remus felt numb. The world around him blurred and distorted. His hand gripped the armrest so tight he thought it would snap off. His head felt like it had been plunged in a bucket of ice cold water, then promptly burnt to crisp. It was as if a falling gaping hole had opened in his chest; as if fire lined his throat, for suddenly it felt raw and dry. Tears spilled from his cheeks, over the pale skin and the freckles and the scar that lay across his nose.

His mother. Hope Lupin. The kindest woman.

She smiled. Even after her son had turned into a bloodthirsty monster and ripped himself apart, she smiled at him. A smile that told of sweet music and the scent of beautiful flowers. "Don't worry, Remus. Next time will be easier. It's always hardest at first."

She hadn't cared. Not at all. She didn't care that her four-your-old son could easily destroy her. She worried, but never judged.

"Remus, don't listen to them. They just don't understand. We'll move house again, and those boys won't be there. We'll move house and nobody in the new village will know, alright?"

"Yes, mum."

"Don't look so glum! We can move to the seaside and I promise to buy you ice cream."

And she had been so proud, so stubborn. She insisted that her son got only the best.

"What do you mean, can't go to school? Remus will go to school, and if not I'll teach him magic myself. Yes, I know I'm a muggle."

"Hope…" his father had said.

"Remus shall go to Hogwarts. In fact, I will write to the headmaster right now!"

And she had. The young muggle woman had written to Albus Dumbledore to demand that her son - a werewolf - be put on the list immediately.

Everything she did had been for her family and friends. She had gone to every end to make sure everyone was happy.

"Sorry Ms., but you've gone over the legal limit. You'll have to come to the station with me." the officer had said, eyeing Sirius who had collapsed from laughter in the back seat of the car.

"I'm awfully sorry. We're late to an evening in London. I won't do it again, officer."

And then, when around the corner, Hope Lupin had gone back to the previous, awesome, breakneck speed that she'd been driving at before.

She could get away with anything, and her mind was sharp and witty. She would have been a Ravenclaw had she attended Hogwarts.

"How are the lessons?" she had asked after first year. "Tell me everything."

Remus had described every subject with precise detail, along with his marks. "... but I only got 50% correct in astronomy," he finished.

"We'll have to sort that out, won't we? Bring me your textbook and we'll have a look. Astronomy is one thing I can do without magic."

And she had. By second year, Remus had caught up with the top pupils like Lily Evans, and with his mother's advice had quickly become the same advice he gave to Peter Pettigrew.

But now she was gone, and tugging these memories from the back of his mind had widened the gaping hole in his chest. His eyes stung, drying now, as there were no more tears to shed. He knew he was shaking, and that he should be embarrassed for crying in front of his teacher, but he wasn't. Professor McGonagall had a calming atmosphere around her. After all, she'd seen him after transformations when he was either head-to-toe in blood or bruised up beyond recognition. She had seen him at best and worst, and now she saw him for who he was: not a dangerous creature or a mischievous prankster, but a boy who loved his mother. A boy who didn't know what to do now that she was gone.

Sirius, James and Peter walked to the dormitories after a hurried lunch. They had expected Remus to be at their usual place at the table, but he was absent. Their group seemed empty without the werewolf with his dry sarcasm and brilliant plans for pranks and tricks.

The Gryffindor common room was empty. The fire hissed in the grate, but that was the only sound.

They reached the dormitory and stepped in. Remus sat on his bed, head in hands, shaking ever so slightly. The sight wasn't common. The last time they saw Remus cry was back in second year when they'd fell out over the discovery of his secret.

He looked up, and they saw tear tracks below his eyes, and when he spoke his voice was choking and ragged, "Go away."

Sirius stepped forwards, "No, Remus. Whatever it is … we'll help you. Is it about your transformations? Is there a new law against werewolves? Do you have a crush? Did McGonagall turn into a cat and eat your toes? Did you get a bad score in Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

Remus shook his head, "No, just go away, please. You can't help."

James spoke up, "Remus, you're our friend. We're meant to help you. And don't you dare say you don't deserve it, Remus Lupin, because you're not a monster. You're one of us. A Marauder. We don't care if you have a furry little problem or you like some ugly hag of a girl."

"And I doubt you could ever get a bad grade in Defence." Peter added.

Remus shook his head, "There isn't a girl, and I did get a good grade. It's not even about my condition."

"What is it, then? Come on, mate. You can tell us." Sirius said.

"There was another attack," Remus hesitated, reluctant to tell them. Sirius wouldn't understand - he hated his mother. Maybe the others would, though. "Mum's dead."

And the other three Marauders joined him, James hugging him, and Sirius putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, and Peter gathering the last of the chocolate frogs.

As he sunk into their embrace, he saw his mother standing before him with a smile on her face, her greying hair flying out of its bun as always, and she was wearing her apron she wore when cooking.

"I promise you this, Remus," she'd said before Remus came to Hogwarts, "Some people will hate you for who you are, but some won't. You'll find some people who love you no matter what happens every month. And any true friend will be one of those people. Any true friend will accept you, and they won't care."

Hope Lupin had been patient and smart and caring and kind and she'd always keep a promise. She didn't deserve to die, but even the angels of the Earth will be gone one day.

Even the sweetest of angels fall.