REVISED October 16, 2007

A huge shout-out and thank you to Red, you're as wonderful as you are sexy ;) and talented, and busty, and sweet, and creative…….. did I mention you're hot? (she's a big blusher, it's howls)

I dedicate this to every Marauders fan out there. While I am making an attempt at being as cannon as possible and would love it if you'd point out where I'm messing up my cannon-isms please note that this is a work of fiction in which I am taking a few liberties.

The Maurauders Epic: The Marauders and the Rumored Truth

Chapter 1: As Long as No One Knows

Remus John Lupin sat on his porch. The air was heavy and dank, a breeze carried a brief respite, picking up a fresh dewy scent from the nearby lake before dieing off. Slight for his age Remus wrapped his cloak tightly around himself. He could smell his father, that sharp clean mint scent that trailed him everywhere. John Lupin was inside the house, making his way between the parlor and the kitchen. Remus' mouth twitched up into a tiny grin as his heard the shift of weight; his father doubled back towards the kitchen for another round of pacing.

The small, rough bench Remus sat on was not uncomfortable. His view of his fathers' acreage was fading with the sunlight. Another swift breeze stole past him carrying the scent of the cattle from the barn, the draft horses, and the goats. He'd grown used to the smells of farm life, ever since he and his father had moved 'away from the city noise'. Remus shook his head, he'd been so excited to move when he was six, the idea had put him into such a state at that age that he'd tried packing up all his belongings that very instant. That was before his mother took half of everything.

He only received birthday cards from his mother now. She'd chat about her life, her new job, her new husband, her new kitten. Her new, normal Muggle life. She'd tell him about how much she missed him and about how he should come for a visit- about how she'd apply for the papers that would allow him to travel alone. Remus didn't answer her letters, he kept them all in a box with his pictures of her, tucked away in the hayloft.

Sitting on his porch, away from people, away from 'the city noise', safe from stares he received when he went to a wizarding town with his father, he felt alone. He remembered the last look he'd seen in his mother's eyes. She'd been detached, afraid, as if her baby boy would turn on her, maul her, turn her into a monster. He remembered her bitter tears, her talk of beasts needing to be raised with 'their kind'. Remembering her, her reaction to him, to his curse- he remembered why it was better to be alone.

He remembered his fathers' words, spoken urgently, softly to his mother. Before either of them realized his heightened senses, his sharp hearing, they'd argue outside his doorway. For months they fought, threatened, pleaded with each other to give in, give up, leave, stay, understand, fight back and choose. At last his father had said simply: He wasn't a monster before, he hasn't changed, my Remmy is still a sweet, gentle-spirited boy. If you can't see that, then you're the monster. He'd never seen his mother again, after that.

Remus tried to live up to his father's words, trying to prove him right. When the Wolf reared its head once a month he tried to contain it, reel it in, tried to keep the part of him named 'Remus' above the blood lust of the Wolf.

The Wolf turned four today.

Remus glanced at the little table beside his bench. The gift from Warren was there. Of course he'd signed it Romolus, it was a joke between them. As promised Remus wouldn't open the gift till the time it had happened, that was the rule. As twins, bitten on the same night by the same wolf, they shared more than a curse. They'd met at St. Mungo's the night after the bite. The two boys were contained together, to make them easier to find, control, and to help the parents make the right decision.

Remus had come awakened from his doze to hear: Let him go, it's better this way.

He'd opened his eyes slowly, the wizard, one of the officials from the ministry Remus recognized from the night before, stood at the foot of his bed facing his parents. His deep voice sounded so sure, so confident. Remus knew what had happened. He'd been bitten.

"I can't give that monster my son." John Lupin looked like a small man at that moment. His voice was barely above a whisper, his unshaven face looked dirty. Remus could smell the sharp tang of blood and saw it smeared all over his father's robes.

"You can't do this alone, John," the official had said, "he'll be too dangerous."

His mother stood trembling, her arms wrapped around herself. A shawl draped over her thin shoulders. Her tear streaked face held a look of stunned disbelief; she rocked herself slowly, back and forth murmuring to the floor "my baby, my baby…"

John Lupin grabbed his wife's hand; that was the last time Remus ever saw them touch. "No one is taking him anywhere. Tell Greyback no."

His father had eventually chosen Remus over his wife.

Coyotes yipped in the distance. Remus lifted his nose, and without consciously deciding to determined that a mother and father coyote were taking their nearly mature young out to hunt. He was glad that the full moon was still a ways away and the urge to hunt the coyote family wasn't strong enough to make him salivate. Remus tried to return his attention inward, as hurtful as memories were, confronting his instincts was worse.

He glanced at his watch, 8 p.m. he had 19 minutes. The sky seemed bare and empty. He knew that tonight was the new moon and he wouldn't see it at all, at least that was a small blessing, the moon held no sway over him tonight, it couldn't sit in the silence of the heavens above him and goad him into giving into his animalistic nature.

His forehead creased into frown, the melodrama he'd recently acquired from his reading choices left a sour taste in his mouth. He wasn't interested in turning into someone who felt sorry for themselves.

He didn't ask to be bitten.

He looked at his watch again it was 7 minutes past 8. He knew that this was the exact moment four years ago the Fenrir Greyback gave into his curse and transformed. He'd heard it rumored that it took Greyback no time to transform at all, that because of Fenrir's delight at becoming the Wolf he simply let it take him and didn't fight it – like most other werewolves.

Remus didn't know if that was true or not, he'd be transforming now for four year, that was 47 changes, he'd fought long, hard, and fruitlessly during each full moon. He'd sworn that he would never give in to his wolf without a fight- he would never become what had bitten him.

8:10, his mother would have let out her first scream as Greyback had charged into the house, tearing the door from it's hinges. He'd marked his territory, the stench of his urine reeking through the house. His father fired a spell that bounced off of Greyback as if he'd never tried. Fenrir had bounded up the stairs.

By 8:12 Remus knew there was something wrong. In a fit of six-year-old panic he'd started to cry, his toothbrush forgotten on the floor. He'd run for his parents bedroom. He never made it.

At 8:15 Fenrir was towering over his little body. He could clearly remember the joyful happy look in Greyback's eyes. His body was wracking in sobs, he screamed for his mother.

He remembered his parents pleading with the Wolf. Begging for him not to hurt Remus, he vaguely remembered his father making promises, offering money. He remembered Greyback looking at his parents while keeping Remus trapped under his big heavy paw.

Greyback didn't bother watching him as he tore into his chest, he locked eyes with his parents.

It was 8:19 when the infection hit his bloodstream. He shook till he was sick, he beat his head off the floor, he scratched at his wounds till the blood flowed more freely. Greyback escaped through the window, his parents only stared in horror at him.

Sweating Remus wrenched himself from his memories and shut them away the best he could. He glanced at his watch, 8:12, he wished this was one time he could speed up the clock. He found it fascinating how he could remember things faster than they happened – it seemed so inconsistent how his six year old self recollected the events of that night in such vivid detail, how seconds felt like hours but when he remembered the events the memories flew by.

He picked up the parcel from Reid. Inside the envelope signed Romolus was a picture. It was of the two of them, as six year old boys, they were laid up in bed still, Remus with his bandages around his chest and Reid still with his leg in a sling. They were both smiling, their faces filthy with something purple one of the nurses had given them. Remus couldn't help but smile as he and his wolf-brother giggled at the camera and made silly, messy faces.

The picture had been taken before their first change, before they'd understood the gravity of their new disease, before their lives had changed forever. The letter from Reid was bright and cheery; it wished Remus happiness and shared stories of mischievous gallivanting.

The second letter was of a different nature. This one was on Hogwarts stationary, in the headmasters' own hand. Remus didn't know what to make of this opportunity. To feel normal, to be offered a place at Hogwarts like any other wizard his age, like his father had been offered; it felt wonderful. Remus couldn't help but to be wary, could he keep his secret? That would be 71 transformations on Hogwarts grounds.

He shook his head, the worst that could happen if he was found out was to be expelled and exposed. His father was no longer part of the wizarding community so he wouldn't lose his job… Newly appointed Headmaster Dumbledore would more than likely lose his position. Remus could be putting all of his fellow students at risk. But this was Hogwarts this was the greatest opportunity he'd probably ever be offered….

The letter from the Headmaster was complete with assurances of safety precautions to put his mind at ease about his condition. His father had called up Madame Malkins and ordered him robes already. Remus had his wand from a little shop in France where he and his father had vacationed between transformations and harvesting. But could he do it?

He'd been overjoyed at first, elated. His father had cried and written a thank you letter 10 feet long to Dumbledore, he'd spent money they didn't have on supplies and books for Remus. Remus hadn't said no but the weight of the pressure to keep secret was so heavy he could barely get of out bed some days.

What if someone found out?

Sitting outside his house, watching the fading sun set, he checked his watch: 8:25, his Wolf was 4. He set his jaw, this was one thing the Wolf would not take from him, he would do this for Remus and Remus alone.

He had just to make sure that no one found out.

SKM

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