A/N-The Prisoner of Azkaban is my absolute favorite book, and Lupin was probably my favorite character from it, so I decided to write a fanfic during his time at Hogwarts: as a teacher reflecting on the past. I wanted to include Fenrir Greyback too, so this is the result. I put it a few days after the whole shrieking shack incident, so its like Lupin has really been thinking over leaving the one place that would actually give him a job. It's my first fanfic! Constructive critcism is encouraged.
Disclaimer: I own nothing relating to the Harry Potter world or J.K.Rowling except a lone Hagrid doll that sits on my bedstand with a little Norbert.
Summary: Lupin is awakened by a dream of a life-changing event from his past. Reviewing his thoughts upon his awakening, he finally reaches his decision to leave Hogwarts in Harry's third year.
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Were It Be A Wolfish Nightmare
A young boy of about 4 years of age lay sprawled on a grassy hill, out of breath, and dangerously close to the edge of a nearby forest as darkness fell. He wore shorts and a matching yet darker khaki colored shirt, complimenting the light brown hair that fell around his round peaceful face in waves—for now.
A strain of tension arose quickly, denoting a coming of swift and dangerous events. The boy, possibly sensing this change in environment, sat up quickly, his eyes darting back and forth to collect a complete view of his surroundings as he quickly made it to his feet. Anxious, he started backing away from the edge of the forest as unusually close wolf howls echoed eerily all around the surrounding clearing. Now at a full out run, the little boy turned just in time to see a gray blur leap above him to—right in front of him. Saliva dripped from its mouth as its human-like wolf body crept closer, the terrifying image only enhanced by the patches of blood spread and smeared throughout his grayish-silverish coat. The boy fell; crawling backward as slowly as he tried to stifle his terrified whimpers, knowing that what was to come was inescapable. The terrified scream of an innocent child rang throughout the nightscape as the predator claimed his prey…
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Remus Lupin shot up, shoving his sweat drenched sheets aside with his flailing limbs. Calming himself down, and curling up as he did so, he released a shuddering breath, still not used to the reoccurring dream of his turning. Relaxing back onto his four poster bed he slowly pulled up his pajama shirt-sleeve, hands shaking and making the task even more difficult than need be. A savage bite mark glared up at him in the light of the moon, giving him a feeling of fear that had him look up to the moon quickly to check if he could have forgotten its phase; reassured by the sight of the fading and waning orb on the lightening black canvas of sky.
His hair hung low, released from usual pale brown ponytail by his nightmare induced movements. Brushing it away from his eyes with a hand, he placed his other roughened hand over his eyes, reveling in the cold they radiated which soothed his face and awakened him fully to his surroundings. His hand slipped away from his eyes as he caught the sight of himself in the mirror directly across the room from him.
Haunted and sunken gray eyes and surrounded by pale skin stared back at him. His hair, once wavy and a bright chocolate color now looked pale and graying as if it would break and fall away from his pale visage at the slightest touch.
He looked almost nothing like the young and innocent boy he recalled in his nightmare, his innocence and youthful spirit lost and gone with his friends and brought about by the mindless discrimination of the people he was once upon a time apart of. Gone with the war that tore apart many others.
Voldemort had done much, revealed a friend to be a mass murderer and traitor, killed his first friends and his wife, and tore apart the world he had just begun to find his place in.
The werewolves had joined him when he had reigned as the Wizarding World's Dark Lord, spreading discord and fear to every heart and mind. The werewolves had done much to help him achieve his goal, biting many in order to grow in number and power. Few looked upon werewolves as humans afflicted with a curse; in the majority of the Wizarding World's mind, they were monsters. Dark creatures who had come to life from stories told at the bedside of children. The sad thing was, this stigma was what had many a good-hearted wizard turned werewolf to switch sides; feeling a sense of belonging with those cursed as they were.
There was many a time he had let it run across his mind that he could run away and join those now hidden numbers, to escape the glares and biting statements of those who let appearances deceive them, but he had found hope. James and Sirius, Lily and Peter; they had stuck by him in those days and he hadn't the will nor the heart to break those ties, not when they had done so much for him by ways of befriending him.
It had been Lily and James's son who had struck down Voldemort that fateful Halloween night, the night that had taken the lives of two of his friends, eventually sent one to Azkaban, and revealed the other to be in league with the fallen dark lord. Yet the Wizarding World rejoiced, the nightmare they had lived with for years destroyed; the last of his light extinguished, and if not for the light of many, Albus Dumbledore, he would have fallen permanently into the dark abyss of his despair.
Years he had searched for a job only to be turned away and scorned for what he was, what he couldn't help but be. He occasionally found someone sympathetic enough to offer him a job--the least-paying and lowest ranked, but a job nonetheless. It wasn't until he was called by the good-natured Headmaster of Hogwarts to be a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor that he thought he would ever find a good place to work.
It was when he arrived at the entrance of Dumbledore's office that Dumbledore, after offering him a Lemon Drop, that he had found out that the position was cursed. He had laughed bitterly at that, drawing a concerned look from those twinkling blue eyes, but had accepted nonetheless, finally believing his luck to have changed for the better; now surrounded by the objects of his childhood's fondest memories.
The year had come and gone. Patronus summoning taught to his best-friend's son--who was quite remarkable at it despite its advanced level, magic-wise (he supposed Harry must have inherited Lily's Charms ability, James was absolutely horrible at it). The first escapee of Azkaban proven to be the loyal friend he was and the rat who had been thought a martyr were exposed, though only to those close to his godson.
The most horrifying event in with revelation was what had occurred afterward. What had occurred under the light of the full moon--his transformation.
It had been horrible and painful without the Wolfsbane potion, the only source of relief he had partaken of recently, and it was only worsened with the closeness he had maintained with three of his students. It had been hard trying to fight against his wolfish instincts and his animagus companion; it had tore him up when he had returned to human form to find that he had almost bitten three innocent children. He thought he could never face them--his students again.
Dumbledore again took up his offer to protect him from the unforgiving world by offering him sanctuary at Hogwarts, within the job he had recently made his own despite the complaints of various parents of the students. It had been like a dream, to teach a subject he had a talent in, away from the scorned looks and biting remarks of those who called him a monster. Too much like a dream. He had asked for a few days to consider, though the prospect of accidentally biting another child still lay fresh in his mind.
If anything, he would prevent himself from allowing this very thing from happening to his late best friend's --from happening to James's son. He had to leave, or the place his honorary godson considered home would be filled with prejudice and mistreatment, the exact thing he had come to this sanctuary from the muggles he lived with to escape.
Finally decided, though however hesitantly, he stood up quickly changing into his shabby robes, easily spotted in the dawning sun's brightening light, and grabbed his wand striding over to the door intending to carry out his mission. He summoned a suitcase, and began to pack up, stopped only by the shocked shout of the very person he had decided to leave in order to protect,
"Professor, you--you can't leave!" Turning to face the speaker, he saw a pair of hauntingly familiar emerald eyes stare up at him from his classroom's open doorway.
It was as if he had forgotten to breathe with the sudden reminder of her suddenly thrust in front of his rampant train of thought, and it was with that crash that he knew he could not show any hesitation. The mother who had given up her life so that this one child to live had been as precious to him as any one of his other friends. He would most definitely leave. Even if it hurt his feeling heart worse than it hurt his calculating mind.
"I'm afraid I have to Harry."
And that was that.
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