Chapter One – Bitten
Disclaimer: I own the plot, the whole plot and nothing but the plot.
Well, I've finally completed the first chapter of Shooting the Moon (revised)! I hope you all like it. Please do review, whether you loved it or whether you hated it! Criticisms are very welcome as long as they are constructive. I'd prefer it if you told me what you really thought rather than just saying something nice! Not that I mind if you do have something nice to say… ;o)
Anyway… here goes!
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Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry sipped daintily at his tea, apparently unaware of the fact that he had just thrown the lives of three people into an uproar.
"Well," he said, standing up, "I must be going. Thank you so much for the tea. English breakfast, I believe."
The younger man rose as well, staring his uninvited guest in the eye with a brand of pride that comes naturally to those who have little and hate being pitied.
"No, thank you for coming," he said politely, shaking the proffered hand. "We will think about what you said."
"Of course. The decision is yours, and," he paused, "Remus'. Do let me know if you will be satisfied with the arrangements! I'll show myself out."
As he walked past, he winked one bright blue eye at the young boy standing in the hallway.
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"…So you can go to Hogwarts, even though… well, er… despite your condition," finished Jean Lupin with some relief. There was pregnant pause in which the Lupins watched their son nervously.
"Well?" Amélie asked at last, "Do you want to go?"
"I don't know," said Remus, his expression carefully blank. Even so, his mother saw that for a moment before he composed himself, the look in his eyes was that of a desperate animal: lost and half-starved.
Her husband sighed, knowing they would get nothing more out of him.
"You can go then Remus," he said gently. As soon as the boy left the room, his shoulders sagged visibly.
"What are we going to do, Amélie? He won't talk to us."
Amélie crouched down before the man she had married, taking his face in her hands and meeting his despairing gaze. She never lost hope; the word despair simply wasn't in her vocabulary. She smiled, her dark blue eyes regarding him evenly.
"We will send him to Hogwarts," she said in her soft French accent, "and this man Dumbledore will look after him. He is the most powerful wizard in the world."
Jean nodded wearily and leaned forward, burying his hands in her hair and his face in her neck.
"I'm so sorry," he breathed as she slipped her arms around his shoulders, his voice laced with grief. "I should never have married you. It's all my fault, and I can't do anything about it."
"No one can blame a man for what his family does," she said, her voice uncommonly stern as she felt his tears on her neck. "You weren't the only one who participated in our marriage. I was fully aware of what I was doing."
"You're right,' said Jean, and she knew he was smiling. "Remus will go to Hogwarts. And we will have hope."
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As Remus entered Diagon Alley his keen senses were assaulted by a barrage of sounds, sights and smells. Witches and wizards coursed through the street and in the shops, many of them wearing long, colourful robes and carrying various parcels and objects that were completely different from anything that could be seen in the rest of London. He had not experienced so much noise, bustle and magic for four years.
Jean watched his son carefully as they visited Gringotts Bank and made their way through the various shops, buying robes and equipment. As usual, Remus' face remained devoid of any emotion, except for a flicker of longing in the bookshop. Jean bought him a pile of books, but only ten minutes later he had returned to his normal state of indifference. Frustration welled up bitter as bile within the tired man as he longed desperately to find a way to make his child feel something other than the pain which had changed his life four years ago.
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Dust filled Remus' lungs as he stepped into a dingy, dimly lit shop. The walls were lined with shelf upon shelf of unmarked rectangular boxes.
"Can I be of some help?" said a voice that sounded as dusty as the room itself.
"Mr Ollivander?" asked Jean. "I am looking for a wand for my son."
The man nodded thoughtfully, stepping closer to examine Remus, as if he were looking for some mark or sign.
"Indeed, Mr …?"
"Lupin," the younger man supplied.
"Aha. Bear with me, I have just the thing..." The strange man retreated and began rooting in a haphazard pile of boxes, humming tunelessly as he worked.
"Hhhmmm, haaaaaa, hhhmmm, here, yes, here it is!" he turned around, tossing aside a box, and handed Remus a dark wooden rod, about a foot long and tapering at one end.
"Yew, 13 inches, and the core," he paused, his dark eyes unreadable, "werewolf hair."
The boy shuddered involuntarily; tightly clutching the wand, and jumping when coloured sparks shot from the end.
Ollivander smiled. "Oh yes," he said, "that's the one. Wave it about a bit."
Remus did as the man said, bringing his arm up and around in a smooth arc. A strange sensation like electricity shot through him and left him reeling; something stirred in the depths of his mind. He felt excited, although he barely recognized the emotion.
Jean saw the look in Remus' wide eyes, and felt a sudden, powerful surge of gratitude and relief. With it came a spark of hope, swelling in his chest despite his best efforts to ignore it. Perhaps he had been wrong all along. Perhaps Hogwarts and magic was the key to his son's future.
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Platform 9 ¾ materialised rapidly before Remus. Witches, wizards and confused Muggle relatives alike teemed across the platform, pushing laden trolleys and staggering under the weight of large parcels, their voices ringing in his ears.
Lupin tugged his boy gently around to face him and knelt to button up the front of his jacket.
"You don't have to go Rem," he said quietly. "No one is making you."
"I know Dad. But…" he paused. "I think I want to go."
His father nodded mutely, stunned that Remus had voiced an emotion. Standing up, he pushed the trolley over to the train, and clapped his hand down on the child's shoulder, forcing a smile to hide his feelings. He thought of how his wife had said goodbye to their son at the house, embracing him and kissing his forehead, but no such affectionate farewell came naturally to Jean, and Remus didn't seem to expect it.
"Have a good time son, be careful," he said awkwardly, his voice hoarse.
Remus nodded and turned, hauling his trunk after him; the moneybag pinned to the inside of his coat bounced against his chest, oddly comforting. He felt his father's eyes following him, and heard him call "Write to us Remus!" just before he stepped onto the train.
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Remus sat staring out of the window, his elbow on the narrow arm of the seat, chin cupped in his hand. He had managed to drag the trunk into an empty compartment and push it under the bench he was now perched upon. He had already removed his jacket in favour of his new school robes, and he absently wondered what Hogwarts would be like. Even now he could feel his wand in his pocket, reminding him what he was. He was a wizard.
And a beast, muttered a voice in the darkness behind his eyes. Everyone will recognise you for what you are.
His train of thought was interrupted as the door opened violently, and two boys burst in, turning around to peer out into the corridor from which they had come. They didn't seem to notice that someone was there already, and after glancing at them once, Remus looked away again. He was used to being in the background.
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When the boys turned to sit down, they saw that one of the seats was occupied already. A smallish boy with ragged golden-brown hair, obviously a first year, was staring out of the window. He seemed surprised when they approached him.
"Hello," said one of the boys, "do you mind if we sit down? All the other carriages were full." Without waiting for a reply he flopped down onto the seat opposite Remus, dark blue eyes sparkling as he grinned. "I'm Sirius, by the way.'
'And I'm James Potter,' smiled the other boy as he sat down. He had coarse black hair, which stuck out from his head untidily, giving him the appearance of someone who had just got out of bed. 'Who are you?'
"I'm Remus Lupin," he replied awkwardly, immediately turning his head to gaze out of the window once more.
Just then the train lurched into motion. They were off!
James was busy trying to work out whether this uncomfortable-looking kid was simple, strange or just rude, when the door to the compartment slid open, and a nervous-looking boy with short sandy hair crept in.
"Um, sorry, can I sit in here?' he asked unhappily, 'only I couldn't find anywhere else…'
He turned out to be called Peter Pettigrew, and he looked even more miserable when a tiny witch came round wielding a little trolley loaded with all kinds of wizard snacks. James and Sirius leaped up to buy something of everything, and Remus, who had something of a sweet-tooth, followed suit shyly.
'My mum's only sending me my pocket money in a few days,' Peter said glumly, 'she thought someone might nick it on the train.'
While Sirius and James were wondering guiltily whether to buy him something, Remus gave Peter a couple of sickles, because it seemed like the natural thing to do. Peter blushed and looked intensely grateful, and the other two felt slightly ashamed of themselves. Remus didn't have the air of someone who was rich, but he had been unhesitatingly generous and had unwittingly sparked curiosity and respect in both the other boys.
Soon they were all feasting on Pumpkin Pasties, Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Remus realised that they really did come in every flavour when he popped a bright red sweet in his mouth and tasted rare steak. He found himself being inexplicably included in everything. He hadn't had contact with kids his own age or been in a group situation of any kind for so long that he didn't really know how to behave, so he just sat there, quietly absorbing the conversation and speaking only when directly questioned. He learnt a lot as Sirius and James discussed Quidditch and talked about the four houses at Hogwarts. Apparently, different personalities were best suited in particular houses, although they didn't know how the decision was made. James said that he would be mortified if he were sorted into Slytherin House, where he reckoned personal gain (by any means) was considered priority.
'The Slytherins are getting darker and darker, my dad says', he informed them. 'All they care about is getting money and power for themselves.'
Remus noticed that Sirius fell suddenly silent and looked rather flushed, but he was too busy trying to work out which house he would be in to wonder why.