Author's Note: First of all I am not J. K. Rowling. I don't own Harry Potter, any of his friends, or any of the plot of the series. Not even one little bit. Now that that's out of the way, I would like to explain that this is my first fanfic and constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated. I should probably stop my rambling now before you stop reading. Don't forget to review!
Love and well wishes,
Zosia Rose
The shack at the edge of town had been abandoned for twenty long years and it showed it. The windows were boarded up, the heavy door hung off it's hinges, and weeds grew in the cracks between the rotting floorboards. It had once belonged to a coal miner back before the mine grew barren and black coal dust still coated every available surface. The shack's condition had steadily declined until one sunny morning found the weeds pulled, the boards vanished, the door fixed, and the coal dust washed away. If you peeked through the newly visible windows, and more than one child did, a tiny room could be seen. A battered sleeping bag laid in a corner, neatly rolled up. An old milk crate served as a table, with a suitcase wrapped in twine in an attempt to keep it shut leaning against it.
Word spread like wildfire that someone had moved in but not a single living soul was seen entering or leaving the property for several days. The townsfolk whispered and gossiped, each having a different idea of who the mystery person was. One woman with a gurgling baby in her arms imagined the person as a cantankerous old lady with shrivelled skin and yellow teeth. When she described her imaginings to her husband, he laughed and told her that he knew who had moved in. The husband was friends with the owner of the property that the former coal miner's shack sat on. The owner had said that the unknown inhabitant was in fact a young man by the name of Remus Lupin and that he had shown up a few days before out of nowhere. The owner had refused to divulge any more information about the enigmatic Remus Lupin, stating simply that the husband would see him around town soon enough.
The next day, a man that no one besides the owner of the property had ever seen before walked into the bakery and bought a loaf of day old bread. He paid no attention to the whispered remarks and the pointing that followed him, merely nodding politely to the ones who stared. His clothes were ragged and threadbare, his light brown hair was streaked with gray, he face was lined and haggard, he gave off the general impression of being quite poor and ill. The town was abuzz with talk that night, all about the young man who looked and acted as if he were old. The name and face of Rems Lupin was entered into mental databases, everyone wracking their memories to determine if they had ever even heard of him before. No one in the village had.
Every day, Remus would walk down Main Street, hunched over and sometimes limping, and every day the rumors followed him. Invariably, a group of children waited for him in front of the inn, laughing and jeering at his patched clothing and worn down appearance, heeding not the warnings of their mothers and fathers. He always kept his head down and pace quick while walking past them, doing his best to ignore the taunts and insults. When the tears that gleamed in his cheerless eyes were noticed at last, the scathing affronts ceased at once. The children were confused. They didn't understand. Why did the man look so melancholy? They were sure that it couldn't possibly have been caused by them only. Their befuddlement increased when Remus muttered something to himself, then moved on down the road. Remus's words were so quiet that a small boy standing the closest to him was the only one who heard his forlorn whisper. The boy's face scrunched up in thought as the others crowded around, begging him to repeat what he heard. His voice was soft with pensiveness as he replied, "He asked why."