Waning Gibbous

March 3, 1971

Pain ached throughout Remus Lupin's small almost eleven-year-old frame as sleep drifted away from him and life was breathed into him once again with the rising of the sun. His eyes blinked at the brightness as the world came into groggy focus. As always, sitting in the chair nearest his bed sat his mother, Hope Lupin. Her eyes were red-rimmed with either loss of sleep or tears, he was never sure which, her slumped shoulders covered in a loose-knitted cardigan, despite the warmth in the room, her hands busy working across the easel in front of her as if their occupation with the charcoal and paper could keep her worries at bay. Remus smiled and did not stir. These moments, when his body was aching so fiercely from the activities of the night prior, and her heart was so openly displayed in her face were his favorite moments. He felt it was the only time they were ever truly honest with each other. It wouldn't be long until she noticed the change in his breathing and she'd store away all her concerns into a little place in the rear of her mind. Remus contented himself with watching her work and worry and let his own pains and worries occupy his own mind until warm tears pooled at the edges of his eyes.

It happened in an instant. She changed from frantic and worried to warm and caring, Remus thought even the redness of her eyes faded. "Good morning, sweetheart," her voice smiled at him as her charcoal blackened fingers smoothed his sandy brown fringe from his forehead, "it was a bit of a rough one, I'm afraid." Remus nodded and tried to push back his tears. "Don't you do that, mister," his mother chided. "You have every right to those tears, don't deny yourself the humanity of them." Obeying, Remus let the tears fall and allowed her to press her forehead against his and smooth them away. Once he had cried himself out, she kissed his forehead. "How 'bout some tea?"

Like an apparition his father appeared at the door with a tray overfilled with tea and biscuits. Remus sometimes wondered if his mother wasn't the magical one of his parents, as she only ever had to think of something and it would happen. His father was slightly older than his mother, or perhaps he just aged quicker, Remus wasn't sure. "And plenty of biscuits, of course," the roughened voice chimed in as his father stepped into the room.

Remus believed himself to be built quite like his father, albeit a smaller package because of his age. Lyall Lupin was tall and lanky, as if his arms and legs were a bit longer than his body called for, his hair sandy and striped with grey and hang shaggily about his ears. His eyes were wrinkled around the edges with knowledge and worry in the same way Remus' were- years before their time.

"So, how's the damage?" Remus asked as he tried to rise up from the pillow. He swallowed back the pain as white-hot licks of pain flamed up his abdomen. A gasp escaped his lips and his mother was there in a moment, helping him hold steady. Her trembling could be felt despite his own shaking and guilt rose up in him greater than the agony of his wound. His self-loathing was immense. He should have died rather than drag his own mother through this hell every month.

His father laughed, not unkindly. It was his way of breaking the spell of his mother's worry and Remus' own self-hate and it worked like a charm. "Well, apparently, as bad as it looks. Going back your reaction there." A chuckle was pulled from Remus' chest and his mother sighed her fear away returning to her calm state.

"Funny," Remus groaned, rolling his eyes. He let the blankets fall around his waist to reveal the crisscrossing wound that seemed to take up his entire middle. "Girls dig scars, right?" he asked.

His mother smiled. "That they do, love."

"Don't worry," his father said, placing the tea tray upon the desk near Remus' bed. "It'll scar up nicely, but the pain should die out by this evening." Remus was relieved. He had long since passed the time where he was concerned over his appearance, but knowing the pain would ebb so quickly was heartening. Usually cuts as deep as this took longer than a day to recover.

Their conversation turned to lighter things after that, normal family discussions over what was to be had for dinner, if they should make a trip to the seaside over the weekend, and the like. Remus sipped at his tea until he was too tired to continue with the conversation and faded into sleep.

Later that evening Remus sat upon the living room floor with dozens of books spread out in front of him, each depicting scenes dark creatures, apparitions, and ghouls. A quick rap at the door of the residence brought Remus' attention from the pages to the reality and Lyall Lupin smiled at him. "They do the same to me, my boy," he laughed as he rose from the couch to answer the door.

An edge of uncertainty crept into the room and Remus found his breath caught in his chest. Since a very young age visitors were greeted with a distrust, which only increased with sunset within Remus' world. He watched carefully as his father padded across the room to the door, his wand slipping from his sleeve for easy retrieval if the need arose. Hope Lupin fell in place, quickly behind her husband. She easily slid a shotgun off the rack by the front door, hiding it amongst the folds of her skirt. The Lupin family lived far out from the nearest town and many precautions were in place to keep anyone from just wondering up to their home and it was obvious by the elder Lupin's response to arm themselves that no one was expected.

Torn between curiosity and fear Remus sat up straighter in an attempt to see over the sofa blocking his view of the doorway. His father pulled the door open and his face froze in shock, "Pro-professor?" he shuttered out.

Remus stood and peered around his father he saw a very tall man with a long white beard that hung passed his waist. Remus instantly knew the man was a wizard, though he had rarely been exposed to any beyond his father. He wore a crushed velvet suit, in deep plum that was almost matched the night sky, heeled boots and half-moon spectacles.

As the usual refusals to anyone wishing to enter the Lupin home were given, Remus found himself staring in wonder at the professor, the aura about him exhaling magic into the air. The rest of the words lost on the way to Remus' ears, however as he watched, it appeared the professor was winning what had always been a losing fight with his parents. It wasn't too long before the shocked and shuttering refusals sputtered out, stunned acquaintance took its place and the two Lupin's welcomed the professor into their home.

The professor was unfazed by the entire situation and smiled brightly at Remus. "You must be Remus?" even his voice felt magical to Remus as the words pierced through his ponderings about the man at their door.

"Yeah—Yes, I am," Remus answered, attaching "sir" as an afterthought as his eyes moved down to his feet in shyness.

The professor grinned and stretched out his hand in greeting. "I am Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts," he announced. Remus stared at the offered hand in silence. He wanted to—touch him? Did he not know what he was? "I promise it won't bite," the professor laughed.

Remus lifted his gaze from the aged fingers outstretched to him and up into the wizened face, his honey-brown eyes staring helplessly into the bright blue pools behind the half-moon frames. Professor Dumbledore smiled warmly. Slowly, Remus slipped his hand into the professor's and accepted a hardy shake.

"Ah ha!" the professor exclaimed, turning about the room. "Anyone up for a game of Gobstones?" He asked, pulling a bag of marbles from the pocket of his coat.

The Lupins collectively stared at him in awe. "Gobstones?" Lyall asked.

"But, of course," Dumbledore responded. "I have a great many things to discuss with you this evening, but I am afraid part of the discussion requires a dear friend of mine, who is never on time. And, personally, beyond ten-pin bowling, I can't think of a better way to pass the time, than with a round of Gobstones." At that, he magicked away Remus' books with a wave of his hand and sat cross-legged in front of the fireplace, motioning for Remus to follow.

Hope Lupin was the first to recover, "Well then, I suppose I will fetch us some tea and crumpets."

Eyes wide, Remus sat across from the headmaster and gave him a small smile. Lyall watched his heart, for the first time in a very long time beginning to fill with hope.

End note: I've found this tale nagging at the back of my mind for several months now and have decided to attempt to scratch it down. I'm the only one doing the editing, which mostly occurs in the wee hours of the morning when I get home from work, so feel free to point out any errors and I'll will edit them as quickly as time allows. The story arc I have mapped out is to cover the entire Marauder Era, but make no promises. As today is Mr. Lupin's birthday, I decided to share his opening chapter first.