There were charms to soundproof the basement and wards to keep it from getting out. This wasn't his fault, of course. During the rest of the month he was a very quiet, sweet little boy; his mother just couldn't bring herself to think of that thingas her son. She feared if she let him outside too much, neighbors might ask questions about the scars, and she couldn't exactly tell them Remus turned into a bloodthirsty monster that clawed itself raw because it must be locked up without anything to hunt?
For several years his parents did as best they knew how, taking everything one moon at a time. They managed like anyone else with a sick child. Then the letter arrived; it became the source of many heated arguments between Remus' mother and father. When they didn't send a reply owl after a few weeks, Albus Dumbledore decided to pay them a friendly visit.
"I trust your son received our letter, Mrs. Lupin?" he asked kindly, stepping past her to enter the house. The old wizard headed straight for Remus' bedroom without acknowledging his parents hardly at all, who stood by helplessly.
"You can't just—" Mr. Lupin began, but his wife cut him off with a sharp look that said: He's Albus Dumbledore; he can do whatever he wants.
"Have you read all these books?" Dumbledore addressed the pale boy sitting up in bed, a book open on his lap. More books covered the desk and filled the shelves that lined every wall. Otherwise, the room was quite plain.
"Yes, sir," Remus answered quietly. "I like to learn new things."
"Ah, then surely you must know all about Hogwarts?"
"Oh yes. I've read about it, sir."
"Of course you have. It's a school where you are given an opportunity to learn many interesting things about magic. Not to mention our rather impressive library which I think you will appreciate. Do you know who I am, Remus?"
The boy nodded proudly. "Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. You're the most powerful wizard in the world, sir."
"Arguably," he said modestly, but there was a twinkle in the man's blue eyes. "Tell me, Remus, would you like to attend Hogwarts? We could really use a student so enthusiastic about his education."
"I can't, sir. I'm sorry."
"Why can't you?" Dumbledore asked.
"Because I'm a monster," Remus murmured. "People will be afraid of me. I might hurt someone. No one wants to be friends with a werewolf."
A single silver tear trickled down the headmaster's cheek. He excused himself, saying he needed to have a word with Remus' parents. The boy waited for a little while before he crept out of bed to listen at the door. He knew they were talking about him.
"It's not safe," Mum insisted, growing increasingly hysterical with every word. "What if—"
"Hogwarts is the safest place in the word, I assure you," Dumbledore promised. "Poppy Pomfrey, our very capable mediwitch, has agreed to look after him during full moons and the following morning. There is a location on the grounds where he can transform far away from other students, and otherwise he will live a completely normal life. He will make friends and receive a proper magical education. I think you know, Mrs. Lupin, that your son is very bright. He deserves this chance."
After a long stretch of silence, his father spoke up. "And no one will know about his...condition?"
"You mean besides Madam Pomfrey and myself? Not a soul. I shall keep his secret from anyone else, as it is not mine to reveal," the headmaster replied solemnly. "I understand the harsh reality of Remus' affliction, but I think we all should remember that it's not an easy thing for an eleven-year-old to cope with, even a highly intelligent one."
Later that evening, his parents let Remus read the letter. It informed him that he had been accepted to Hogwarts. He'd never felt accepted anywhere until now. He would learn new things and meet children his own age who, because they didn't know what he truly was, might even be his friends.
)O(
The years changed him, Mrs. Lupin could tell. He came home over Christmas and summer holiday with wild tales of his three best friends. As time progressed they became Prongs, Padfoot, and Wormtail. Such strange nicknames. To her they would always be: the fat one—Peter Pettigrew, the handsome one—James Potter, and the one who never stopped eating—Sirius Black.
The Marauders. They seemed like nice enough boys, though not the best influence on Remus. Maybe her son would be a good influence on them. Her son received almost daily letters whenever the Marauders were apart. In the summer following his second year at Hogwarts, Remus brought these boys home for the first time. She'd just been so thrilled he had some real friends, even if one did whisper: "Moony, why didn't you tell me your mum's hot?"
"That would be incest, mate."
"Not for me," the boy grinned. He'd repeatedly complimented her cooking and was already eating a third plate of food, thus Sirius earned her private moniker for him. These were innocent enough times, before the war, when there still existed a sort of normality. But she was shocked when, during Christmas break his sixth year, all the Marauders and green-eyed Lily Evans showed up in her house...on a full moon.
"It's okay, Mum," Remus had said, smiling reassuringly though she knew how ill he always felt before and after a transformation. "They studied for years to become Animagui. Can you image Sirius opening a book? He must really care. They all do, including Lily, and they want to make...tonight...easier for me."
Tears filled her eyes, because people knew and they still cared. It was such a relief. Remus would be all right. He had friends, the kind that stay with you through life and every full moon.