The Call of the Moon
Chapter One
1965:
Hope Lupin was a muggle, and, as any muggle who has been married to a wizard or witch would say, her life was far less dull than it had been before she met her husband. She had dark hair that hung in ringlets framing a round face and green eyes that her son, Remus had inherited. Since her eyes had been opened to a whole other world existing within her old society, Hope firmly believed she wouldn't trade living in this world for anything. It had been a great struggle at first. She was sworn to secrecy and could never tell any of her friends or family the truth of the existence of magic, and indeed that her husband was a wizard, and there had been a period of adjustment to say the least. She was still surprised every time the door opened itself for Lyall, or when he produced a rose in the air for her from nothing.
When Remus was born, and every day since then that she heard his little feet running around and ran a hand through his light brown hair, Hope thought she could never be happier.
Raising a magical child without having magic herself was a challenge indeed. And sometimes it was terrifyingly daunting. One fateful day Remus had accidentally flooded the kitchen, which left a panicked Hope haphazardly trying to wade through water to the sink whilst simultaneously trying to comfort a crying three-year old. The day that Remus' teddy bear had started to float as he lay on his back cooing at it, her husband had been overjoyed and for the rest of day proclaimed his excitement as often as he could that his son was showing signs of magic.
Lyall Lupin had been working in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures for three years. An expert on Non-Human Spirituous Apparitions, he rapidly rose to prominence in the Department. He loved his job. There was a certain thrill about trapping greedy boggarts in matchboxes and trying to catch a particularly sneaky Cornish pixie before it could wreak havoc in muggle shops, that excited him. However, today was a day that Lyall wanted to be over before it began.
"Can I see? Can I see?" Four year old Remus peered over the breakfast table trying to read the copy of the Daily Prophet that Lyall was engrossed in.
Absentmindedly, he reached down and lifted his son into his lap with a grunt, looking up long enough to smile gratefully at his wife as she set a plate of eggs and sausages down before him. He had to admit, magic certainly couldn't make eggs taste as splendid as Hope could.
"Thank you, dear." He said and returned his eyes to the headlines.
"I wish you wouldn't read that over breakfast…" Hope tutted and caught herself peering strangely at the moving images on the paper again. Though she had had years to get used to it, she wasn't sure she ever would be accustomed to photographs moving.
"M-Mu…what's that word?" Remus piped up, looking up at his father's chin and pointing to the paper.
"Muggle."
"Muggle…" Remus repeated and frowned as he focused on trying to read the next word. "Chi…children?" He looked up for confirmation and grinned when his father nodded. "Muggle children-"
"Oh Merlin…" Lyall quickly scanned his eyes down to the picture as it changed beneath the headline and quickly slammed the paper face down on the table and lifted his son off his lap. "You better go and eat, Remus."
"Bu-"
"Come on, your breakfast is getting cold." His mother chided gently as she slipped into her seat beside Lyall and nodded to Remus' plate as he climbed up. She frowned slightly and raised her tea to her lips as she looked at Lyall who had picked the paper up again. His face had gone grim and lines creased it.
"…What is it?"
In answer, Lyall passed over the paper and fixed his eyes instead on the sugar bowl in the middle of the table. Three, two, one…
Hope gasped and a small hand went to her mouth as she stared wide eyed at that morning's headlines of the wizarding world. "Oh no…oh the poor-"
Lyall nodded slowly and looked once more at the Daily Prophet.
In large bold lettering, the headline simply read: Muggle Children Found Dead.
Below, in smaller letters were the words: Manner of killings and rise in werewolf activity raises suspicions.
Below this was a picture of two young children, a boy and a girl that couldn't be older than eight years old.
Remus was blissfully unaware of the looks that his parents were giving each other, too immersed in his breakfast now to notice.
Werewolves. Lyall had seen his share of the beasts and he despised everything about them. He thought them cruel, mindless creatures that only wanted blood. Any unfortunately soul bitten was better off dead than becoming the beast to which he was sure they would eventually succumb.
There was a screech and a handsome Barn owl tapped on the window with its beak. At once, Lyall leapt to his feet, his breakfast untouched and hurried to open it. It was a Ministry owl, he recognised it immediately by the proud way it stuck its leg out with the letter tied to it.
He opened it and scanned though it quickly. It was just what he had been expecting.
"I have to go in early, Hope. They've got someone in and they want me present for his questioning."
"But Daddy…." Remus suddenly piped up from the table and looked at his father with wide eyes. "You promised you would-"
"I know, I know…" Lyall sighed and hurried to retrieve his cloak. Swinging it around his shoulders and fastening it at the collar, he ruffled his son's hair and kissed his head. "After work, alright? Sorry, dear….I haven't time to eat." He stepped around to the other side of the table as his wife stood up and kissed her goodbye. "I'm not sure if I'll be late or not. I'll try and let you know if I will be."
xxxXxxx
"I told ya…I dunno nothin' 'bout those kids…" The man looked genuinely afraid as he sat in the cold black chair surrounded by representatives of the Ministry of Magic.
"That's fine…" The witch said slowly and sighed. "But we haven't gotten to that yet. We will get there."
"That's why you brought me, right? Can' you people leave a poor man alone?"
The witch sighed again and arched an eyebrow at the two wizards either side of the man.
The man was dressed shabbily, his shirt torn and filthy and one toe protruded from his left shoe. His hair was black and knotted, hanging limp around his pale face and his hands opened and closed repeatedly on his knee.
"Now…your name?"
"G-Greyback." The man stammered, still staring wide eyed around him as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He eyed the wizard to his right whose wand was held loosely in his fingers. "Oi…what's that? What're you gonna do-who are you people?"
"Where were you the night of February 11th?"
"At my bench where I always am. I sleep where I can, fellas, leave me be."
Lyall Lupin narrowed his eyes from his seat with the rest of the committee. The man for all intents and purposes did seem to have no idea at all where he was.
"Harroway?" The Chairwoman addressed the wizard. "I trust you confiscated his wand?"
"He didn't have one." The man answered, and looked down at the muggle man in the chair. "Thorough search."
"Mr. Greyback…" The man snapped his blue eyes back to the woman. "You were seen in the company of known werewolves the morning following these attacks-"
"Were-you're mad, all of you!" The man shouted. "Look, I dunno what you want but I don't know nothin' about what killed them poor kids. I was mindin' me own business…think I mighta talked to some fellas next morning."
"And what did they say to you?"
"I…look they was weird guys, I'll tell you that. I think they coulda done it if they wanted…they wanted ta know my name. Wanted ta know if I knew places they could go."
"What kind of places?"
Greyback shrugged. "Said places they could get quiet if they needed a kip. Where people didn't go."
A wizard two seats away from Lupin leaned over to whisper to his neighbour and Lupin shook his head slightly. He had a very bad feeling about that man. His keen eyes darted over his appearance again, searching for something, anything that would prove this man was no clueless muggle.
"Are you, or have you ever been, infected with lycanthropy?"
"…With what?"
"Werewolfry."
"…You callin' me a werewolf?"
"Are you?"
"Look…" Greyback leaned forward slightly and looked up with wide eyes. He fixed his eyes on the Chairwoman and then slowly looked around at each person in the room. "I'm just a man down on his luck. Do I look like I coulda killed those kids? I'm tellin' ya…talk to 'em if you say they're the werewolves… 'cause I ain't one."
There was a long silence and from where he sat, Lyall could clearly tell that most of the room was beginning to side with this supposed muggle. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong. And then he remembered that the next full moon was only a day away. And suddenly this tramp's appearance made sense.
"He's lying." He called out and the words echoed in the silence of the room. All eyes turned to Lyall, including those of Greyback who seemed to twitch.
"Mr. Lupin…" the cold voice of the Chairwoman sounded. "Would you please-"
"He's lying." Lyall repeatedly adamantly and pointed an accusing finger at Greyback. "He's a werewolf."
The rest of the committee erupted in scoffs and sneering.
"And how could you possible think that, Lupin?"
Lyall rose from his seat, his jaw set firm and determined. "I know the signs of lycanthropy. Look at his eyes….look at his skin." His eyes darted down to the man's hands which were still opening and closing on his knees. "His eyes are reddened, his skin is sallow and look at his hands…he's restless. Wolves always are before a full moon…I'm sure you'll find his teeth are slightly sha-"
"Lupin, sit down!" Someone tugged on his elbow but Lyall ignored this and stared around at the Committee in disbelief as nobody moved to check.
"Look at him!" He insisted and was met only with glares. "I recommend he be detained if you don't believe me…at least until tomorrow night. Until the full moon."
There was suddenly a chorus of laughter.
"And when did you become an expert on werewolves?"
"Lyall, you just stick to Welsh Boggarts, that's what you're good at!" A witch behind him sneered and Lupin went red and his fists trembled at his sides.
"Why won't you listen? He's no muggle!" When the laughter only grew louder, Lupin's anger got the better of him. His pride had been wounded, and his rage at the beasts that had killed those children was kindled against the man he was certain was one of them.
"They're soulless! The lot of them! They're evil and they deserve nothing but death!"
"Mr. Lupin! You will leave this room immediately!"
Before Lyall could protest he was being forcibly removed from the room, glaring over his shoulder at Greyback. Whether it was his anger conjuring illusions or he really saw it, he couldn't be sure, but he could have sworn he saw Greyback's pale face twist into a scowl as the door slammed behind him.
A few minutes later, with instructions to wipe the Muggle's memory as soon as he was safely out of the Ministry, two wizards escorted Fenrir Greyback from the room.
"Listen…thanks, fellas…I dunno what you are but…" Greyback fumbled as they stood before the golden elevator. "…but…" And just as the doors of the elevator opened with a chime, Greyback threw out his arm at the wizard on his right with a growl.
Before either of them had a chance to react and raise an alarm, two more wizards leapt out of the elevator, wands drawn and after a brief struggle, left one of the Ministry Wizards stunned and the other being thrown into the wall by Greyback and another werewolf.
The elevator closed behind them before anyone knew what had happened and as Greyback and his accomplices walked free, the werewolf posing as a muggle snarled and revealed a slightly pointed tooth.
"Lupin thinks we all deserve death does 'e?...I'll see about that."
Lyall Lupin left the Ministry in disgrace that day. Word of his outburst in the courtrooms had spread quickly. He kept his head down and tried to ignore the jeering and laughing as he marched toward the fireplaces to take the Floo Network home. He had one foot in the green flames when a loud shout stopped him. He turned and craned his neck to see over the crowd which was parting now to allow two witches and a wizard to pass. A stretcher floated along behind them and the wizard who walked beside it, turned to look Lupin in the eyes as he passed. His scarlet cloak brushed the stone floor as he passed and Lupin recognised him immediately as Harroway who had been in the questioning. The man on the stretcher had been there too.
A moment was all it took for everything to dawn on Lupin and for him to put the pieces together to come to the only reasonable conclusion he could think of. He had been right. Fenrir Greyback was no muggle.
xxxXxxx
Hope looked up from the dining room as she heard the fireplace roar into life. She wished Lyall wouldn't come home that way, his clothes were always filthy. And then there had been that one day he came home in such a fashion while the muggle postman had been at the door. The poor man had been so startled at the noise he had asked whether she needed the police.
She looked back down and patted the book on the table in front of Remus with one finger.
"Come on, dear, you're doing very well."
"Of course he is, his old man was a Ravenclaw after all." Lyall announced as he stepped through the doorway and forced a smile at the sight that greeted him.
Remus looked much like his mother, he had her eyes, and the shape of her face. He had her smile too, as he looked up and grinned at his father. Perhaps it was the deaths of the two muggle children, or perhaps it was simply the knowledge that there were werewolves loose now that made him think of it, but Lyall was filled with a sudden desire to keep his son hidden and close to him all the time.
xxxXxxx
Hope ran a hand over her brow as she knelt back on her heels, finishing her weeding. She looked across the small garden to where Remus was playing with a cat that had wandered over from one their neighbours. It was a small tabby, with a little bell on its collar that jingled when it was near.
This was the house. He knew Lupin's scent well enough to know that was his family outside. Greyback watched from the corner of his eye across the street. His wrinkled his nose slightly as a sneer crept across his face. A muggle woman, how delicious it would be to kill her in front of Lupin. He would know death well by the time Greyback had carried out his revenge. It was the night before the full moon. And then suddenly his keen eyes snapped across the garden to the small boy with light brown hair playing on the grass. Lupin had spawn?
Fenrir Greyback scratched at his stubble, and suddenly he had no interest in killing the woman. Oh no, he had a much better, much more fitting revenge in mind now. He would see how much Lupin thought werewolves deserved to die when he had one of his own.
On the last night of the full moon, two nights before Remus' fifth birthday, a wild, fully grown werewolf stalked toward the Lupin household. Its fur was of such a dark grey it was almost black. Its shorter snort was snapping and drooling as it eyed a window on the second floor with cruel, but human-like blue eyes. He was uncontrollable and hungry, a mixture that made a fully grown werewolf nigh unstoppable.
With a single bound, it leapt and clung to the protruding window sill with claws as thick as broom handles. Bracing its hind legs on the wall, the wolf howled and propelled itself through the window with ease, splintering glass, wood and stone.