AN: Apologies for anything non-canon in this- it had to fit criteria (and is my AS-Level coursework) I really hope you enjoy, and please review to help me improve :)
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, or the world in which this is set- they are the property of the wonderful J.K. Rowling.
Remus John Lupin was attacked by a werewolf at the age of four, thus passing the curse onto him. From then on he lived a rather miserable life of prejudice and hatred; the only love he had ever known was that of his best friends, including Harry's parents, all of which are now dead. As an influential figure in the resistance group, The Order of the Phoenix, Remus is immersed in the midst of conflict. The current state of the Wizarding world is one of havoc. Lord Voldemort (the greatest evil this world has known) has gathered an army of every magically loathsome beast to fight. Rumours fly that Harry Potter is prophesied 'the chosen one' - he is the only person who stands a chance against the dark forces.
War was upon us and our only hope had gone missing.
You-Know-Who's army was rapidly gaining power, our world was slowly crumbling into an abyss of darkness; there was very little to be done.
I felt it coming. On the horizon lingered a great milestone; we knew we had to prepare. Harry had vanished; for all we knew he was dead, we could only hope he was implementing the task he'd been set. Dumbledore had sworn we must trust him, but in times as such it was difficult to trust yourself, let alone a child.
I was staying at Nymphadora's family home, one of very few safe houses left. The majority of The Order had gone undercover to protect themselves or their families, but with the baby due any day, we had very few options left. I despised myself for what I had done to her, to our unborn child; spread the curse of the wolf. I warned Nymphadora, pleaded with her; with my condition and the current state of chaos, a relationship such as ours would be shortsighted, dangerous. I was a marked man; in marrying me, she was merely another ring drawn on the target for aim. Every month I must fall prey to the moon, my foolishness had infected an innocent boy. I knew his survival was unlikely, the wolf within would most likely rip him apart, but I also knew that there was nothing I would not do to make the world better place for him, for them both.
It was two months after the birth of Teddy Remus Lupin, a happy blue haired boy, a delightful respite of naiveté from the reality of war that near consumed me. News had reached me of Harry's perilous presence at Hogwarts, the time had come to fight for the sake of the Wizarding world so, reluctantly, I left the side of my wife and child. There was no option but victory. A world under the rule of darkness is not a world at all; more a hellish nightmare, and I was not prepared to allow my son to grow up knowing only drab misery.
The Order gathered at the house of Aberforth Dumbledore, a mysterious old man with a long wire-grey hair beard and piercing brilliant blue eyes half-hidden behind a pair of partially cracked spectacles; the spitting image of Albus Dumbledore himself. Being situated in Hogsmeade, the village closest to Hogwarts, we were able to follow a concealed passageway directly into the heart of the castle, straight into the action. Our passage was rough, dark, only the dull tread of boots to stone and the scurry of rats shattered the anticipatory silence. Growing up with my condition meant we were never able to settle in one place for longer than a couple of months; Hogwarts was the first and only place I have ever been able to call home. Yet there was something wrong, out of place, something missing - it was only then that it dawned on me. This was not the Hogwarts I knew. This was the new, bitter, ghostly remains of what was once everything to me. Dumbledore was gone, the Ministry had fallen and the fate of the Wizarding world hung in the balance.
Heads down low, homing in on the sharp sounds emanating off the cold stone walls - we ran. The twenty in the Order with those family members old enough to fight, a gathering of the best magical minds I knew; unknowing as to whether we'd be enough. The striking doors to the Great Hall leered down on us, one last barrier from sanity, one last deep breath. Kingsley and I, holding the forefront of the group, were the ones to initiate movement.
Briskly, I forced the wooden barricades apart, knowing that if I didn't do so quickly, it was unlikely i'd have the nerve to do it at all. Like a travelling fog, an icy silence leaked throughout the hall, it crawled, saturating every given space. Hundreds of fear-ridden eyes flickered up at us in unison - the students of Hogwarts, or what was left of them at least. I locked gaze with the headmaster, no longer the greasy haired sallow-skin Slytherin I once knew and pitied. What I saw in those black eyes confused me; not hatred and determination, but panic, dread. This was a man with very little faith in his own cause, a man out of place in the dark cloud that had settled. Severus stepped forward at our entrance, an attempt in vain to remain the pinnacle of attention, and raised his wand. As if drawn magnetically, McGonagall swept forward, with eyes aflame, to face him. Age had done nothing to dwindle the fire of courage that roared within her, no matter how brittle she may look, Minerva was fierce.
A duel of outstanding magical prowess ensued. Not a word was uttered between the opponents, yet the ferocity of the wand-work was conversation enough. It was over in a matter of seconds. Snape fled like the coward he was; Minerva remained victor. With no known cause, a shrill scream pierced the air, and dissolved into heart wrenching sobs; then another, until around five or six yells of terror spread through the room, the different pitches making a harmonious horror. A voice echoed throughout the hall, turning sobs to gasping breaths. It was high, cold and clear. There was no telling from where it came; it seemed to issue from the walls themselves. It felt so close, like the icy tones were inside my mind, violating my thoughts.
"I know you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile." The snake-like hiss began, "You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood."
There was a silence in hall, the kind that presses against your eardrums; wanting you to acknowledge its presence.
"Give me Harry Potter," coaxed Voldemort's voice, "and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you shall be rewarded.
You have until midnight."
The dead air hung, severed only by a lone, shrill voice, "but he's there, Potter's there! Someone grab him!" Pansy Parkinson, a particularly ornery Slytherin stood pointing at Harry, a malicious sneer crossing her lips as her fellow house members began to scuttle toward him. As if choreographed, the Gryffindors first, followed closely by the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, encircled Harry in a ring of protection. It warmed my chilling heart to see the trust, willingness of sacrifice given without a pause for thought.
Not a soul could harm Harry in my presence. I'd protect him until the very end. We dispersed, setting in motion a haphazard strategy in order to evacuate the students as quickly as possible, for we knew there was little time left until the first attack.
Up in the overcast, blackening star-less sky, protection charms laced over us like a lattice forming a domed enclosure, giving a false sense of safety. Great flashes like electric waves pulsed through the dome at each guilty spell that hit it, compromising it's effect; before long Hogwarts' halls would be flooded with death eaters, beasts and the toll would rise.
It was worse than I dared believe. Hexes and jinxes flashed by, friends lay lifeless on the marble floors. I tried to cover as much ground as possible, immobilise the enemy. Coming to a hasty halt, I encountered an opponent to match me. Dolohov. I remember seeing him in the wanted posters months before; dark, heavy-set features, a constant frown ironed into his lips.
I hope that one day, if I am to be remembered at all, they will say that I fought valiantly, every hex finding it's target, every jinx hitting home. That there was little more I could have done, I was outnumbered. However, he had struck me a fair few times and the hand cupped to my head would come away slick with blood. The hot crimson blinded me; I didn't see it coming.
Death is unexpected.
I had always seen life as a space between non-existence.
As if you were brought into being, set up to achieve all you could in your short time then die and cease to exist. I was wrong, of course; the magic that is you lives on. I am sorry that I will never know Teddy… but he will know why I died and I hope he'll understand. I was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life.