Remus Lupin is not my character he belongs to JK and harry potteras well as other characters which may or may not be mentioned later in thestory,i have tried to do as much research into the Victorian era as possible Inspired initially by the poem by Charlotte Mew, recommended read although the story has kind of developed beyond recognition. reactions will let me know if i should keep adding to or not. constructive criticism may be required for grammatical errors. enjoy guys :)

The first time I ever heard his name I was 13 sat around the dinner table chatting with my brother over dinner, Father and Maxwell Jr. were discussing my brothers further schooling, he was at one of London's finest college, for those that could afford such privileges of course.

My brother was an avid learner any knowledge or theory he could get a hold he of would and would retain it for as long as possible, the bright spark of the family obviously. He often held long complicated discussions with the older men at dinner occasions and such entertaining them all with witty banter, he was well liked.

He had black hair like my Father had before it began to tease grey and like our older brother had only he would jell his back professionally, he was of average height with a well-placed body lightly toned from his pondering walks of roughhousing with Brian, and he wore smart cloths and very rarely smiled. But to those that knew him that slight frown was his smile, his eyes sparkling at the prospect of learning, lip drawn back slightly by his teeth chewing on thought. He was happiest alone reading from a book or watching others share in his joy of knowledge.

Maxwell was 3 years more seasoned than me, being at the budding age of 15 at the time he already held such promise. He was discussing his new Professor in Science and Maths that he had taken quite a shining to; Remus Lupin his name was not as old as most Professors but just as bright he noticed my brothers potential and held him back after the last lesson.

He and my brother stayed in his study at the college for hours before our oldest brother Brian came to collect Maxwell home for tea. He and Professor Lupin had spent nearly 3 hours conversing on heavy subjects of religion and theories of evolution and such. Brian listened to his 'ramblings' only halfway home before racing him home.

Brian being older and more physical than intellectual beat Maxwell home by miles, Brian was Discussing with dad his latest efforts on charming his latest love Annabelle, Mother didn't approve as much she said there was an illness of sorts that didn't allow her family to last long past the age of 25, I was happy for my brother but saw both sides of the argument.

My brother Brian was manlier than Maxwell Jr., 3 years senior to him 6 years senior to me. He had a way with words and could turn any conversation in any way he wanted, a joker of sorts he always had a smile, he was fiercely protective of those he cared about. Once one of his friends called me maid and spoke down to me in a very rude manner before my brother, Mother ushered me from the room but his friends shouts were enough of a clue. He wasn't permitted in Fathers house again.

Brian was of a strong build with large calloused hands, thick arms and eyebrow, his face tough and strong everything about his told his story, he also gave the best hugs that would make everything better and brought promises of a solution. The family's traditional dark hair tied back into a pony tail, with flicks of the shorter choppier hair flicking out at the front teasing his face. He was at courting age and well suited to it, he could charm his way through anything, a skill he practiced many a time.

As I said he was more physical from a young age while Maxwell read as much as he could Brian was out climbing trees, playing ruby or cricket, horse riding, hunting or taking part in any other physical challenge he could. Brian was halfway through his Law teachings and although bright he clearly excelled in practical life.

Both of the boys were the apple of my Mother and Fathers eyes, clearly adored and loved as equally as each other. Myself being the only daughter had a special place in their hearts that only a daughter could fill, though I was often called spirited and outspoken. I knew my place and conformed to them as such but I was often pleasurable company, it was hard for people to not like me as I found likewise with other people.

I had a talent at most things expected of me, singing, sewing, cooking, music, caring and tending for the ill, cleaning, French, English and literature, calligraphy. Because I passed through my home schooling so quickly was beginning to touch upon politics and was now starting to participate in conversation, my literature and English was being carried out by my Father who is more knowledgeable than my Mother.

They were proud parents, blessed with bright beautiful children and loving loyal partners. My Mother from a rich background being from the honourable Ashmore household provided the family with a kick start and my father's natural affinity to people in high places and large property of land allowed the family fortune to grow.

Father was a meddler, yes, but knew what he was doing most of the time, he was very rarely wrong and knew the secret workings behind plenty of things. He knew a good investment when he saw one and knew a failure, he never missed an opportunity. Despite being from the upper middle class fitted in almost as well as Mother did.

Mother was from upper class, from the Ashmore she was use to a much more lavished life, but she's says she more content where she is than where she was, her graying red hair is tied up perfectly day in day out, never a hair out of place. Everything was clean and organised under her caring glance, she knew every single thing going on in this house good and bad, she allowed the bad to happen but would prepare for it silently.

She seemed to now things that no one would or should sometimes. She allowed me to follow her every move never slowing down but keeping me up to speed, I was allocated to cook under her watch. When all my other duties were fulfilled and one night a week she and father would expect me to cook a three course meal which I often did, they rarely surpassed Mothers cooking but it was good enough to make the table go quiet for 10 minutes or so.

She was a doting wife to my Father, never speaking out of tone asking when she should and doing when she should ready for his call whenever he needed her. She was the ideal wife; I wanted to be that ideal wife. Her life was perfect, loving beautiful smart family, two sons, a loving husband that valued her dearly, a nice house and it was all there for her to care for and to nourish for all provided by Father.

I wanted the same for me and each of my brothers to have the same, I wanted a good life.