The small boy slept peacefully, tiny hand clutching the arm of a worn teddy bear. The full moon shone brightly through his window, but it did not disturb his slumber. His eyes flickered slightly under their lids, and the corners of his mouth slid upwards slightly.

The wolf cub in their cellar was howling miserably. He didn't like being left alone down there. But Mr and Mrs Lupin had been told very firmly by the St Mungo's healers not to go down to him. Because he would attack, and they would get bitten. And then the whole family would be werewolves.

Loud howls echoed around the shack, as the werewolf threw himself into the walls, and bit his own flanks and legs viciously. He growled and snarled, scratching his snout and head with his feet. He was so lonely.

He had friends now, the wolf. A large black dog, a stag and a rat. The dog and the stag walked alongside him as they explored the forest together, the podgy brown rat hitching a ride on the dog's broad back. He didn't bite himself anymore; he wasn't lonely.

There was no forest now: they were in the basement of the stag's family house. The wolf didn't like the change, and it showed. He was more vicious in his play with the large dog, the rough and tumble including scratches and growls. But still, he would never bite him, bite any of them. They were his friends.

The wolf was howling again. Where are you? It seemed to be saying. Remus Lupin knew, but he wasn't present. It was just the wolf now, and the wolf missed its friends. With a savage growl, it began to gnaw at its own leg.

The dog had returned to him. The wolf greeted him with real joy, jumping on him and growling playfully. The dog rolled over and they fell back into their old habit of rough and tumble play. It wasn't as good as when the stag and the rat had been there, but it was so much better than being alone.

He couldn't believe it. They'd abandoned him again. The dog was nowhere to be seen or, more importantly, smelt, and the other two still hadn't returned. The wolf howled, loudly and miserably, on his own once more.