Wrote this a few months back, before school let out. Written in the point of view of a neighbor of the Lupin's, though that should become obvious, I hope.
I hope you enjoy this as much as I did while writing it!
I don't own Harry Potter or any of it's characters.
He really was a pathetic child. Small; thin; timid; a horrible stutter and an unusual limp to his gait appeared once a month every month.
A shy one - definitely. Couldn't go a sentence without hesitating or looking terrified.
And he never smiled.
But he wasn't always like that.
His parents were wonderful. His father, John, held a job in the Ministry – a secret, hush-hush kind of job – and his mother, Eloise, was a fantastic florist. They were a very loving couple. Always very social when they were young and new to the suburb. And then the news. Oh, the news!
Eloise glowed so brightly through the pregnancy. John doted on her heavily and we all could see the love and care and devotion in his every step.
Then the baby was born. We all were so excited for the little joy.
They named him Remus. Remus John Lupin.
He had soft, curly, honey-brown hair and the loveliest set of amber eyes – the spitting image of his mother.
And the Lupins were arguable the happiest family on the block.
Baby Remus loved to laugh.
On strolls past the Lupin household, he would watch the neighbors passing by and laugh joyfully at them, that innocent sparkle of life filling his eyes.
He learned to walk (skipping the crawling stage) at six months – such a smart boy! And he'd been babbling in broken English since five months.
We all knew he was a brilliant child. Extraordinary. And as soon as he could, Eloise took him on walks around the nearby park, little Remus stopping everyone he passed to chat.
His family (extended included) all enjoyed the rush his presence gave.
But it was shortly after his fourth birthday – a wonderful party the whole neighborhood shared – that things changed.
His aunts and uncles and cousins stopped coming. We assumed a family quarrel, but it got worse.
John became haggard, not anymore the youthful, energized Ministry man he once was, but a hollow, stressed shell of his former self.
And Eloise. The poor dear. She tried – we know she did. She tried so very hard to keep that beautiful smile on her face, but it faded slowly.
Remus had the most dramatic transformation.
We all never saw the happy, carefree, babbling toddler quite act like himself after that.
He stayed by the house, never straying past the flowers just below the porch. He just sat there, staring timidly out at the world, a scared frown now forever etched in place on his rapidly paling face.
Then he had the scars.
One day, just one day, he sat on the porch like always after a few absences that we had all worried about. His arms, the parts not covered by little sleeves, were covered in furious, red marks. Slashes or cuts or…
They were on his tiny legs too. And across his face were three long cuts from his left temple to the bottom of the right side of his jaw, crossing over his nose.
It couldn't have been… that. Never. Impossible.
We still asked.
Poor, sad Eloise answered the door.
Her large, amber eyes wetted and she cried, right there in the doorway into her hands.
It was a dog attack, she said. A big, nasty, snarling dog had attacked Remus in the back garden.
He was fine, she explained. Her voice was broken and we suspected he wasn't fine.
And things kept like that.
The little Lupin family kept quietly to themselves as we watched over the family we all loved dearly.