Title: King of the World
Rating: K
Genre: General
Summary: Remus' mother reflects on the mutability of motherhood.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. I own nothing.
King of the World
By: GreenMeansGo
She doesn't pretend to know everything about being a mother. It was quite possibly the hardest job in the world and she knew that of all people, she didn't have a clue.
During her months of pregnancy, determined to be the best mother to have ever lived, she had planned and listed everything she would do for her son. She would teach him to be rational yet creative, moral yet decisive, brave yet prudent, independent yet decidedly humble. She would take him to see the world and he would grow to be the perfect gentlemen, perhaps a famous artist, or the next prime minister. She wasn't going to be one of those overbearing, coddling mothers who hid the world from her children. She would walk the line between honest and loving and somehow be both. She would protect him but let him make his own decisions. Needless to say, as her pregnancy came to a close, she knew she would be the most levelheaded mother.
Remus' infanthood almost drove her and her husband into madness as they fussed over every precious gurgle and adorably dirty diaper. She scoffed at the depth her previous naiveté and ludicrous visions of grandeur as the slightest sign of a sniffle or cough brought her to her wits end with worry and everything, and she meant everything, was scourgified.
Once he began to walk, all of her worries increased tenfold. He was so curious, wanting to touch and chew everything. Every corner was taped over and everything that was breakable or swallow-able was moved out of reach. She could barely keep up with him and every bump and 'ouchie' was promptly healed and forgotten with a kiss. Her hair was forever mussed and her vocabulary seemed to shrink by the day but she couldn't describe they way her heart clenched whenever his pudgy hand found hers.
Just when she thought she was getting the hang of it, fingers finally grasping the concept of motherhood, her world was completely uprooted and thrown away. The proverbial rug was pulled from beneath her and she fell, face first, into nothingness.
She couldn't clearly remember the days following Remus' bite. It was a whirlwind of terror, rage, depression, and a billion untraceable tears. She would like to say that she was just happy that he was alive, that she still had her baby boy. But the awful truth was that she felt like she had lost her son. The visions of showing Remus the Great Wall and the Parthenon faded as the dream of a comfortable life became unreachable.
She couldn't bring herself to enter Remus' room at St. Mungo's for two days, regardless of her husband's angry insistences. She had failed her son in the worst possible way and she had no idea what to do. She had grown up hearing stories of blood-thirsty werewolves, evil and unfeeling. She had been taught to fear 'dark creatures' and she couldn't understand how her son had become one. She was scared and uncertain and entirely helpless. The world hated him and his life would be more than difficult. A kiss couldn't heal this and there was no way she could shield him.
On the third day, she slowly settled herself in the brown, straight-backed chair beside his bed; and as she wrapped her fingers around his pudgy hand, her heart clenched in a familiar way. She hasn't cried that hard since.
Being a mother is possibly the hardest job in the world and being the mother a werewolf is even harder. She reckoned it was a lot like fumbling around, clumsy and blind, in the dark, doing her best with what she has. It was wonderful and frightening and she couldn't love it more.
"Mum! Mummy!" came a cheerful voice followed by the uneven pounding of feet, breaking her out of her thoughts.
She turned from the mirror even as it informed her that her hair was still mussed and she smiled as Remus bounded towards her.
"Do you think I'll be king of the world one day?" he asked with a small, excited smile.
She took in the dirt smeared cheeks, pinkened from his backyard adventures, and the grass stains on her new pillowcase securely fastened into a cape around his neck. Perhaps levelheaded mothers didn't delude their children with false promises. The world feared and hated her son and there was nothing she could do about it. Remus tilted his head, his huge golden eyes questioning as he waited for her answer.
There would be enough people telling her son who he could and could not be in the future, so she would lie for now and continue to lie for as long as he believed her.
"Yes, sweetheart," she whispered as she kissed his forehead, pushing back his beautiful, sweaty hair. "Yes."