Title: Silver Chain
Author name: Daria
Author email: daria@efortsmith.com
Category: Drama
Sub-Category: Horror
Rating: PG-13 (bloody)
Spoilers: All five books of the Harry Potter series, primarily Prisoner of Azkaban.
Summary: Remus Lupin is nine years old. His family doesn't have much money, but the crowd of relatives that visit on Christmas morning always makes up for it. A gift from his grandmother changes everything..
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made from this, and no copyright infringements were intended.
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Silver Chain
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"That's really nice, Margaret, but I don't think he should-"
"No sense in being so modest, Stella! It was nothing.."
"In any event, no thank you..", the much younger witch began again.
"Listen to her, mum. On top of being overly-expensive, it isn't befitting for a boy to wear something like that..", her husband, Graham, attempted to reason.
The skinny nine-year-old could only watch the three adults from between the railing of the staircase, mournful amber eyes awkwardly darting between them. It was quite a feat to kneel there, in hiding, while wearing the itchy flannel pajamas his Mum had instructed him to wear the night before. The Christmas morning had greeted the boy with a white winterscape just past his window, and he had rushed to meet his relatives that gathered there annually. Then he had seen Gran Lupin. The boy dreaded the old bird nearly as much as he did the yearly register at the Ministry, and had an idea that his parents felt the same way. The fossil was wretched.
Aside from these inner complaints, Remus Lupin was a flawlessly obedient child. He had risen from bed in a hurry and sprinted down the creaky staircase only to freeze on half-way, heart seemingly fallen at least to his knees. Gran and his parents had been standing in front of the tree - more importantly, in front of the several extravagant packages beneath it - talking about something while other relatives milled about. That had been a full thirty minutes before. Gran had first insisted the candles which wound around the decorated pine be taken down, as they could 'easily burn this rickety place to the ground, my dears!' The old woman always inserted some pet name at the end of each sentence, which Remus believed was a total contradiction to every one of her statements. 'My, Stella. Your hair is beginning to gray', she would say,' Have you noticed, love?' Or maybe, 'Are you still self-employed, Graham? Why, yes. How silly of me, poppet! You only had to call me about medical bill payments last month!'. His poor parents.
And now, or minutes ago, rather, the subject had shifted to the small parcel Gran held in one claw-like hand toward his Mum. There was always a great tension when the woman first arrived, but the look on his father's face made Remus well queasy. Dad was always a pillar of strength, and now Gran had reduced him to a quivering mass. Was was the matter? Dad's handsome features had been contorted into the most false smile of gratitude the young wizard had ever seen. And Mum, ever polite and timid, was seemingly pulling the same face. The wizard muttered something to his wife and they moved away, parting the crowd of older folks. The Lupins were a small clan, really, which meant Remus had grown to know each of them quite well, though he only saw them on holidays. From his bird's eye view of the room, the boy could see Uncle Horace leading Dad into the kitchen for a talk about Quidditch, which wasn't his Dad's forte, by any means. And mother had wandered toward the bathroom alone, apparently more than flustered.
"Why, here's Little Remmy himself! Come here, pet, and open your present!", the banshee-like woman squealed, beckoning the boy from the staircase. His cover was blown, and now two other ancient relics had joined Gran's side. He recognized them his elder cousin Estelline and her husband, Roger. There were no children younger than twenty in the clan.
"T-thanks a lot, Gran..", he found himself saying, digging his bare heels into the carpet a bit as his grandmother snatched his shoulders and pulled him forward. Her nails were like talons but quickly left him as she placed the gift into his hands. His cousins were looking on.
Why had his parents made such a great attempt to deflect Gran when she was only trying to give him a gift? And such handsome paper!
Forcing a nervous smile, slightly flushed as the attention was suddenly now on him, the wizard began to unwrap the present. The paper was a metallic red with interwoven green stripes, a fancy green bow to top it. Slowly peeling away the paper, feeling rather regretful he had to tear it at all, Remus found a light-blue box beneath it. Gazing upward at his grandmother - she nodded in approval - he avoided his cousins' eyes entirely and opened the box. Fluffy white material supported a thin chain, glinting under the glow of the Christmas tree. A bracelet. The three glittery charms were his initials: R.J.H.
"Wow. I..", the boy began, blinking fervently and gazing from the old woman to the bracelet.
"Hush, hush! Try it on! Here..", Gran chirped, raspy voice revealing nothing but delight for her grand-son as she lifted the minute chain from its box and tossed the latter item. "Let's see that wrist!"
Thin lips curled into a very broad smile, the boy pushed up the tartan sleeve of the irritating pajama shirt and extended his bony wrist to her.
"Now, it should fit to your little arm, love. Just.. here..", she was muttering excitedly, unfastening the clasp to place it on him. With a quick airy sound, the jewelry snapped to action and quickly snaked around the diameter of his wrist, securing the fastener itself. The charms lightly rattled through all of this but instantly grew still.
Remus had been careful not to make a noise when it felt as if the clasp pinched him, but he could not prevent in emitting an anguished cry when the pain was suddenly more intense. The chatter of the relatives instantly died down as he cried out again, other hand flying to the bracelet. Gran, confused, could not remove the bracelet fast enough, and he ripped his hand out of her grasp to frantically claw at it himself. Glancing from his feeble attempts to pry it off, pain searing like a hot brand against both his wrist and fingers, the lycanthropic wizard found the eyes of his relatives on him. Was this some sort of cruel joke?
The small crowd parted to reveal his Mum, whose light eyes widened as she ran to her son and fumbled with the bracelet. Remus, face burning with a blush but arm burning with something else, was crying by now. Tears stained his face as his hand trembled and felt numb, his fingers tingling, as well. It seemed his skin was melting away, but it looked perfectly normal when the bracelet was eventually torn from his tiny wrist. Stella Lupin put an arm over her son, crouching over to cover him from the party-goers, and held his wrist outward, her apron haphazardly wrapped around it, as she forced him toward the bathroom. He was growing dizzy with either pain or shock and before long the hushed whispers of the family faded away.
"Reemy, honey. I'm so sorry. I didn't think anyone would think to- We.. we should have told you..", Mum was saying.
Delirious as Remus was, the child could at least make out the dotty curtains of the small window. He was in the downstairs bathroom, probably seated on the toilet. Faintly he could feel some sort of wet sensation, and brief applications of pressure. Eyes flitting open for a moment, he could make out the shock of light-brown hair that was his mother's head. Darkness again. It was sickening; a feeling like exposed flesh being prodded. In a sense it was, he realized, managing to open his eyes and gaze downward. Really, it was all he could do with his chin held against his chest. His head felt too heavy to move, and he could only focus enough to tell she was dabbing at his wrist with something soft.
"It would be best that you keep your eyes closed, little guy.." The familiar ruffling of his hair told Remus his father was probably crouched against the wall, supporting his son's limp, scrawny frame with those enormous hands of his. The man's voice startled the child worse than not being in full control of his motor skills. Dad was always laid-back, but only sounded that serene when something was sincerely awry. Remus felt his stomach lurch as he disobediently forced his heavy lids open.
The skin around his wrist was inflamed and broken, making it appear that something sharp had been forced along the width of his arm, just below the joint of his wrist. Dark pink flesh was visible but it almost appeared burnt. Had the bracelet been on fire? That made no sense, though the cool silver color could have been an illusion. Gran wouldn't purposely hurt him, would she? The skin was ragged, and Remus would have been sick if any of the wound had registered as being his. Mum must have numbed it with an insane amount of magic, as he could only stare, transfixed, and wonder how he wasn't howling with pain. The witch must have noticed because her thin eyebrows relaxed in the universal sign of motherly distress and she heaved a quiet sigh that sounded much like his name. Remus felt his father's arm around him, but didn't take his eyes from the wrist.
"Silver is the bane of lycanthropy, son. It is like sunlight to vampires; water to fire..", the calm baritone informed the boy, the grip on his right shoulder tensing a bit as the words were said.
"Your grandmother didn't know. She, of course, knew, but didn't understand. And the rest.." His mother chimed in, wrapping the wound and causing her son to lift his attention from it to his mother's face. She looked nothing short of devastated.
"Did they leave?", he blurted out, suddenly more alive as he found himself drawing in a deep breath.
"Graham..", his mother urged, reaching out toward the boy.
"Yes, but that isn't important, Remus. You have to understan-", Father was saying.
"They didn't know. And now they're probably scared..", the boy interrupted, a fresh wave of nausea spreading across his newly-mobile limbs. He stood from the toilet, suddenly very aware of the itchy pajamas again. Blood quickly ran from the bandage down his fingertips and he quickly moved his hand away from his mother's reach, spattering the wall with dark droplets. Mouth agape as his wrist gained feeling again, the nine-year-old started backwards from the wall and found himself pressed against his Dad's legs.
Stella Lupin, who had previously been kneeling, moved toward the boy and put her arms around his shoulders as Graham's hands came to rest on either side of the boy's chest, gently pinning him in place. The witch, slender face nearly touching her son's, took his bandaged, stinging wrist carefully between her hands and looked into his tear-filled eyes.
"What you have to understand is that they don't understand, Remus."
___________________
Author's Notes: Eek. This is pretty clumsy and will be rewritten, but I thought I should begin to illustrate the isolation the boy experiences after those other than his immediate family find out. Remus begins to fully understand how ignorance causes people to lose sight of something as dear as a family member, and a child, at that. In later fics you'll realize how many mistakes the Lupins (mostly Graham, whose name will most likely be changed) made in raising their little werewolf. As always, this feels abrupt to me - I probably wasn't clear enough on Margaret, Graham's mother and Remus' grandmother, but she will later be shown in her full misery. You can imagine how she'll react when the rest of the family alienates the werewolf and his parents. You can look forward to some closer scrutiny on the tortured Lupin family.
You will review this, won't you?
Author name: Daria
Author email: daria@efortsmith.com
Category: Drama
Sub-Category: Horror
Rating: PG-13 (bloody)
Spoilers: All five books of the Harry Potter series, primarily Prisoner of Azkaban.
Summary: Remus Lupin is nine years old. His family doesn't have much money, but the crowd of relatives that visit on Christmas morning always makes up for it. A gift from his grandmother changes everything..
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made from this, and no copyright infringements were intended.
"That's really nice, Margaret, but I don't think he should-"
"No sense in being so modest, Stella! It was nothing.."
"In any event, no thank you..", the much younger witch began again.
"Listen to her, mum. On top of being overly-expensive, it isn't befitting for a boy to wear something like that..", her husband, Graham, attempted to reason.
The skinny nine-year-old could only watch the three adults from between the railing of the staircase, mournful amber eyes awkwardly darting between them. It was quite a feat to kneel there, in hiding, while wearing the itchy flannel pajamas his Mum had instructed him to wear the night before. The Christmas morning had greeted the boy with a white winterscape just past his window, and he had rushed to meet his relatives that gathered there annually. Then he had seen Gran Lupin. The boy dreaded the old bird nearly as much as he did the yearly register at the Ministry, and had an idea that his parents felt the same way. The fossil was wretched.
Aside from these inner complaints, Remus Lupin was a flawlessly obedient child. He had risen from bed in a hurry and sprinted down the creaky staircase only to freeze on half-way, heart seemingly fallen at least to his knees. Gran and his parents had been standing in front of the tree - more importantly, in front of the several extravagant packages beneath it - talking about something while other relatives milled about. That had been a full thirty minutes before. Gran had first insisted the candles which wound around the decorated pine be taken down, as they could 'easily burn this rickety place to the ground, my dears!' The old woman always inserted some pet name at the end of each sentence, which Remus believed was a total contradiction to every one of her statements. 'My, Stella. Your hair is beginning to gray', she would say,' Have you noticed, love?' Or maybe, 'Are you still self-employed, Graham? Why, yes. How silly of me, poppet! You only had to call me about medical bill payments last month!'. His poor parents.
And now, or minutes ago, rather, the subject had shifted to the small parcel Gran held in one claw-like hand toward his Mum. There was always a great tension when the woman first arrived, but the look on his father's face made Remus well queasy. Dad was always a pillar of strength, and now Gran had reduced him to a quivering mass. Was was the matter? Dad's handsome features had been contorted into the most false smile of gratitude the young wizard had ever seen. And Mum, ever polite and timid, was seemingly pulling the same face. The wizard muttered something to his wife and they moved away, parting the crowd of older folks. The Lupins were a small clan, really, which meant Remus had grown to know each of them quite well, though he only saw them on holidays. From his bird's eye view of the room, the boy could see Uncle Horace leading Dad into the kitchen for a talk about Quidditch, which wasn't his Dad's forte, by any means. And mother had wandered toward the bathroom alone, apparently more than flustered.
"Why, here's Little Remmy himself! Come here, pet, and open your present!", the banshee-like woman squealed, beckoning the boy from the staircase. His cover was blown, and now two other ancient relics had joined Gran's side. He recognized them his elder cousin Estelline and her husband, Roger. There were no children younger than twenty in the clan.
"T-thanks a lot, Gran..", he found himself saying, digging his bare heels into the carpet a bit as his grandmother snatched his shoulders and pulled him forward. Her nails were like talons but quickly left him as she placed the gift into his hands. His cousins were looking on.
Why had his parents made such a great attempt to deflect Gran when she was only trying to give him a gift? And such handsome paper!
Forcing a nervous smile, slightly flushed as the attention was suddenly now on him, the wizard began to unwrap the present. The paper was a metallic red with interwoven green stripes, a fancy green bow to top it. Slowly peeling away the paper, feeling rather regretful he had to tear it at all, Remus found a light-blue box beneath it. Gazing upward at his grandmother - she nodded in approval - he avoided his cousins' eyes entirely and opened the box. Fluffy white material supported a thin chain, glinting under the glow of the Christmas tree. A bracelet. The three glittery charms were his initials: R.J.H.
"Wow. I..", the boy began, blinking fervently and gazing from the old woman to the bracelet.
"Hush, hush! Try it on! Here..", Gran chirped, raspy voice revealing nothing but delight for her grand-son as she lifted the minute chain from its box and tossed the latter item. "Let's see that wrist!"
Thin lips curled into a very broad smile, the boy pushed up the tartan sleeve of the irritating pajama shirt and extended his bony wrist to her.
"Now, it should fit to your little arm, love. Just.. here..", she was muttering excitedly, unfastening the clasp to place it on him. With a quick airy sound, the jewelry snapped to action and quickly snaked around the diameter of his wrist, securing the fastener itself. The charms lightly rattled through all of this but instantly grew still.
Remus had been careful not to make a noise when it felt as if the clasp pinched him, but he could not prevent in emitting an anguished cry when the pain was suddenly more intense. The chatter of the relatives instantly died down as he cried out again, other hand flying to the bracelet. Gran, confused, could not remove the bracelet fast enough, and he ripped his hand out of her grasp to frantically claw at it himself. Glancing from his feeble attempts to pry it off, pain searing like a hot brand against both his wrist and fingers, the lycanthropic wizard found the eyes of his relatives on him. Was this some sort of cruel joke?
The small crowd parted to reveal his Mum, whose light eyes widened as she ran to her son and fumbled with the bracelet. Remus, face burning with a blush but arm burning with something else, was crying by now. Tears stained his face as his hand trembled and felt numb, his fingers tingling, as well. It seemed his skin was melting away, but it looked perfectly normal when the bracelet was eventually torn from his tiny wrist. Stella Lupin put an arm over her son, crouching over to cover him from the party-goers, and held his wrist outward, her apron haphazardly wrapped around it, as she forced him toward the bathroom. He was growing dizzy with either pain or shock and before long the hushed whispers of the family faded away.
"Reemy, honey. I'm so sorry. I didn't think anyone would think to- We.. we should have told you..", Mum was saying.
Delirious as Remus was, the child could at least make out the dotty curtains of the small window. He was in the downstairs bathroom, probably seated on the toilet. Faintly he could feel some sort of wet sensation, and brief applications of pressure. Eyes flitting open for a moment, he could make out the shock of light-brown hair that was his mother's head. Darkness again. It was sickening; a feeling like exposed flesh being prodded. In a sense it was, he realized, managing to open his eyes and gaze downward. Really, it was all he could do with his chin held against his chest. His head felt too heavy to move, and he could only focus enough to tell she was dabbing at his wrist with something soft.
"It would be best that you keep your eyes closed, little guy.." The familiar ruffling of his hair told Remus his father was probably crouched against the wall, supporting his son's limp, scrawny frame with those enormous hands of his. The man's voice startled the child worse than not being in full control of his motor skills. Dad was always laid-back, but only sounded that serene when something was sincerely awry. Remus felt his stomach lurch as he disobediently forced his heavy lids open.
The skin around his wrist was inflamed and broken, making it appear that something sharp had been forced along the width of his arm, just below the joint of his wrist. Dark pink flesh was visible but it almost appeared burnt. Had the bracelet been on fire? That made no sense, though the cool silver color could have been an illusion. Gran wouldn't purposely hurt him, would she? The skin was ragged, and Remus would have been sick if any of the wound had registered as being his. Mum must have numbed it with an insane amount of magic, as he could only stare, transfixed, and wonder how he wasn't howling with pain. The witch must have noticed because her thin eyebrows relaxed in the universal sign of motherly distress and she heaved a quiet sigh that sounded much like his name. Remus felt his father's arm around him, but didn't take his eyes from the wrist.
"Silver is the bane of lycanthropy, son. It is like sunlight to vampires; water to fire..", the calm baritone informed the boy, the grip on his right shoulder tensing a bit as the words were said.
"Your grandmother didn't know. She, of course, knew, but didn't understand. And the rest.." His mother chimed in, wrapping the wound and causing her son to lift his attention from it to his mother's face. She looked nothing short of devastated.
"Did they leave?", he blurted out, suddenly more alive as he found himself drawing in a deep breath.
"Graham..", his mother urged, reaching out toward the boy.
"Yes, but that isn't important, Remus. You have to understan-", Father was saying.
"They didn't know. And now they're probably scared..", the boy interrupted, a fresh wave of nausea spreading across his newly-mobile limbs. He stood from the toilet, suddenly very aware of the itchy pajamas again. Blood quickly ran from the bandage down his fingertips and he quickly moved his hand away from his mother's reach, spattering the wall with dark droplets. Mouth agape as his wrist gained feeling again, the nine-year-old started backwards from the wall and found himself pressed against his Dad's legs.
Stella Lupin, who had previously been kneeling, moved toward the boy and put her arms around his shoulders as Graham's hands came to rest on either side of the boy's chest, gently pinning him in place. The witch, slender face nearly touching her son's, took his bandaged, stinging wrist carefully between her hands and looked into his tear-filled eyes.
"What you have to understand is that they don't understand, Remus."
Author's Notes: Eek. This is pretty clumsy and will be rewritten, but I thought I should begin to illustrate the isolation the boy experiences after those other than his immediate family find out. Remus begins to fully understand how ignorance causes people to lose sight of something as dear as a family member, and a child, at that. In later fics you'll realize how many mistakes the Lupins (mostly Graham, whose name will most likely be changed) made in raising their little werewolf. As always, this feels abrupt to me - I probably wasn't clear enough on Margaret, Graham's mother and Remus' grandmother, but she will later be shown in her full misery. You can imagine how she'll react when the rest of the family alienates the werewolf and his parents. You can look forward to some closer scrutiny on the tortured Lupin family.
You will review this, won't you?