Giving Way (Chapter One)


Blurb: Remus Lupin was the quiet type. - Marauders' Era, Hogwarts years one through seven following Remus. (SB/RL, JP/LE.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the franchise.

Author's Note: Here's my take on Remus. :-) Hope you enjoy, this is gonna be a long story. Updates will be weekends.

IMPORTANT UPDATE 2/23/16: I will be editing this story to actually be a sort of fanfiction of a fanfiction. :) I will be editing some small details to make this Remus's PoV after the story "BLACK" by I am the Color of Boom (with permission). It's a great story, that I consider the canon for Sirius. A must-read for WolfStar addicts. :)


It was a chilly evening on the seventeenth of March, in the year 1965. Winter was dying on one of its final days of the year, and the buzz of Spring was tangible in the air.

A fog hung low in the atmosphere of the quiet, tidy neighborhood where a mother crow was building a nest atop a tree in a lonely backyard. She let out a warning cry to her mate, who was studiously plucking bits of straw from a windowsill.

Remus John Lupin was a five year old boy with fair, sandy blond hair, and expressive hazel eyes. He had a wooden chair from the dining table pressed up against the wall next to the windowsill, a quill and piece of parchment held tightly in his small hands.

He tilted his head and smiled at the crow that was picking the straw that he and his mother had laid out. It looked up at him with its dark, ominous eyes and jerked its head in the direction of its crying mate. Remus smiled wider as he watched the bird quickly gather the last of the straw and sweep up into the air, soaring over to his mate with the nest-building materials.

"It took the straw!" the small boy called over his shoulder with excitement. His mother was in the kitchen setting up the dinner table, awaiting her husband's return. He was staying overtime that night at the Ministry of Magic, as he had been for the past two weeks since a particularly disturbing case at work.

Remus threw open his window with a bit of struggling, and hastily began a scrawled drawing of the bird he had seen. He drew the outline of the windowsill, the view of the tree (with bits of scribbled grass underneath) with the newly-placed nest on one of its topmost branches.

He looked up occasionally, to compare the scenery's likeness to his drawing, and at some point Hope Lupin strode into the room unbeknownst to the child. She watched him draw, with his eyebrows furrowed in concentration for a few moments, before he finally sat back with a smile on his face.

"That's beautiful!" Hope said in a warm, happy voice, startling the boy into sitting upright and turning around to face her.

Remus nodded knowingly, pointing out to the nest. "I think one of them should be named Remus Junior, since we have the same birthday," he explained, motioning to the baby birds, whose heads would occasionally pop up from the nest.

Hope nodded in agreement as her eyes scanned the parchment where her son had drawn their backyard. "And one should be named Romulus."

Remus bobbed his head excitedly. "Daddy can name the other one," he said decisively as he began slowly writing the decided upon names above the bird nest, lips pressed together and eyes slightly narrowed as he wrote each letter deliberately.

Hope nodded in agreement, frowning at the mention of her husband and peering out the door, toward the hallway. Lyall Lupin had been unlike himself that past two weeks, returning home very late into the evening looking nervous and behaving very grumpily. Remus had taken notice and had been trying many different methods to cheer up his anxious father.

Lyall was not very often stressed by work, but when he was, he did not like to tell Hope exactly why. Hope had lived her entire life with a sort of awareness of the other half of the world - the magical side to it all, but Lyall had been the one to introduce her to it in full. To prove to her that the sensations, the things she saw, really were there; that she was not the only one with this sensitivity to this…energy. To magic.

There were still things however that he seemed to hesitate to tell her. She knew that magical, dark creatures existed, and she knew at times it was not as simple as banishing things like ghouls as was Lyall's usual agenda. He had begun to worry her; he had even begun mentioning that it might be best for the three of them to move.

She had attempted to hide the general stress it had caused within the household from Remus, but he was an exceptionally perceptive child. He'd taken to drawing her pictures when she seemed particularly down.

Remus smiled at his mother as he hopped down from his seat on the wooden chair. He grabbed the chair by one of the railings along the back, tugging it along the rug over the aged hardwood of his bedroom toward the kitchen. "Can I have a chocolate?" he asked idly as he thumped it over the split in the doorway, dragging it across the linoleum floors through the kitchen as his mother followed with a watchful look.

"After dinner," she said in a slightly chiding tone. He sent her a dimpled, impish smile in response which she returned impulsively, crow's feet forming at the edges of her eyes.

"I'm excited for Easter. Daddy and I saw a rabbit the other day," he said as he shoved the chair half-under the table, pausing to correct its position to be like the others. "When we went to the park with Anna," he explained as hopped up into the stool at the kitchen's bar. He folded his arms over the countertop, resting his chin on top as his mother peered in the oven at the dinner; lasagna, one of Remus's father's favorites.

The front door swung open before Hope could respond, revealing an exhausted-looking Lyall Lupin.

"Daddy!" Remus shouted eagerly as he lifted his head, hopping from the stool at the bar and darting into the living room. His father was leaning back against the front door, locking it with his spare hand as he scrubbed his face with his other.

"Hey," Lyall greeted his son gently, a smile brightening the man's tired features as his hand fell to his side.

"Mummy said you could name the last baby crow in the backyard," Remus explained as he lead his father in toward the kitchen from the entryway. The walls switched from tan to pale green as they headed through the archway into the kitchen again. The wizard shrugged off his robes, tossing them on to a hook by the doorway of the kitchen as he stepped inside.

"Yeah?" Lyall asked as he took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose and forcing a smile as his wife turned to face him. Remus made a 'mhm' noise of confirmation and continued to chatter animatedly to his father as his parents finished up setting out dinner.

Lyall said very little as the sun set that night, growing quieter as the night stretched on. Remus didn't seem to notice the dark looks his parents exchanged after dinner. He showed his father a few of the pictures he had drawn, encouraging him to name a few of the animals.

Remus's bedtime rolled around at about nine thirty, but he managed to stretch it to about ten o' clock to finish the show he was watching on the telly. As the credits to the old cartoon rolled, Remus picked himself up, rubbing his tired eyes as the operatic end theme played.

"Linus and his friends must go, so we leave you with a song,

"We're all kind of sad to go, glad to know it won't be long...

"Lion-hearted friendships don't end, we'll all be back and then...

"Linus and his friends will go, on with the show a-gain!"

The young boy remembered to push the button on the machine to shut it off before he headed off to sleep, eyelids struggling as he hopped into his room, his bare toes digging into the familiar rug.

He yawned, stumbling toward his bed and falling on to the mattress. He took a deep breath, focusing intently on the energy he could feel buzzing around himself, and lifted one hand. With a flick of his wrist, the switch to turn off the lights shifted downward, the lights flicking out obediently.

Smiling, very pleased with himself, the hazel-eyed boy snuggled under the duvet covers, leaving his window open to enjoy the cool wind that blew in. He sucked in a deep breath of the fresh air, pulling the blankets up to his shoulders and squeezing his eyes closed.


The full moon hung swollen in the sky, its milky light spread over the darkened neighborhood. The family of crows in the Lupins' backyard were nestled against each other as a cool wind blew, rustling leaves in the yard and bringing strange scents upwind.

There was nothing but the quiet crunch of leaves underfoot sharp, hooked claws as a large, muscled predator stalked through the forest just by the small house. Smoke rose from the chimney as the massive werewolf stepped partially out into the yard under the glow of the moon.

Its eyes, teeth and claws reflected under the light, its teeth bared as it drew in sharp, angry breaths, its shoulders shuddering slightly with each one.

In the deadly near-silence, something seemed to snap within the great beast. It launched forward, its back claws leaving thick grooves into the hardened, late-Winter forest floor. It broke into the clearing, startling the crow family into a chorus of screeching calls.

It didn't falter in its movement as it loped across the lawn, a snarl building in the back of its throat as it threw itself effortlessly into an open window. It smashed apart the top of the wood and glass, being too large to fit in the opening that had been left.

The child in the bedroom sat suddenly upright, his eyes round in exhausted horror as he stared what was surely a night terror right in the eyes.

The wolf couldn't seem to help itself as it tossed back its head in a decidedly humanistic sort of barking laugh. A scream rose from the child's lips as he threw himself off of the bed backwards, hitting the ground with a thud. The lights began to flicker, to the wolf's absolute shock, the building beginning to shake and shudder. A glass of water from the bedside table rose up from its resting place, throwing itself into the beast's skull and shattering glass across his face.

The wolf stumbled back, an infuriated snarl rising from his lips as noises of consciousness began to stir from down the hall. The wolf steeled himself, blood dripping down his muzzle now as he bared his teeth and the child faced him in petrified silence, the room beginning to shake more violently.

The wolf stalked around the bed, loosing one furious roar before lunging forward a single time, knowing that he had no time to play.

Remus let out a blood-curdling scream as pain, like a thousand razor-sharp, fiery knives, shoved through his shoulder, coursing straight into his veins. His mind gave to unconsciousness before the pain could intensify, and the bedroom around him ebbed to blackness.


Remus woke with a start, gasping for breath, cool sweat plastering his fringe to his forehead.

The eleven year old boy ran a hand roughly through his hair, peering out the window of his room in the topmost floor of his house.

The neighborhood outside was dark, with streetlights illuminating the sidewalk. It was a densely populated neighborhood. They were likely to move again soon; places like this never lasted long.

And it was only August.

He peered around the largely unfamiliar space in the dark. It was their third move that year. He shuddered as a tight feeling encompassed his chest, and reached over to his bedside table with a slightly tremoring hand as the adrenaline rush from the nightmare began to fade. He snatched up the book he was reading, pulling it toward himself.

Remus stared down in the dark, allowing his supernaturally enhanced vision to adjust to the lighting after several blinks. He ran his finger along the spine of the book, a quiet smile quirking up the corners of his tired lips as he pulled it open to the correct page. He didn't have any bookmarks unpacked yet - they'd all gotten lost in the bottom of one of his boxes of books - but he recited the page number he was on in his head before he slept so he could recall.

He thumbed the final pages to the correct spot, sighing as the tension flitted from his mind as his eyes scanned the first few sentences of the page, seeking out where he had been. The protagonist - a sixteen year old girl - had just broken free of the castle where she was enslaved, with the help of a sorceror with an Eastern name. She was hiding behind a thorn bush now, as the master's dogs tried to sniff her out.

It was a muggle story, which often ended up being Remus's favorites. The wizarding community was too casual about the presence of magic. They didn't include the exhilarating wonder that muggle books did with it; magic was commonplace, normal to wizards. But it was something Remus would never really get to experience, so he found it easiest to relate to the muggle tales of magic.

He winced at that final thought, his fingers tightening around the edges of his book. He would never get to live within the wizarding community, despite his natural talents. He would never get to use a wand; he would never get to treat magic so casually. He'd practiced wandless magic for years now, causing things to float or move, or to make fires from his fingertips.

But he'd never go to Hogwarts. He'd never get a job like his father. He'd never make friends who were like him. He was special, he was different, but he had to live the most ordinary life because he was...

Sick.

That was what his mother called it, anyway.

He heaved a tired sigh, the thoughts beckoning a familiar pang in his muscles. The full moon was six days away. He couldn't bring himself to look out the window too long at night, when it got this close. It made him want to be ill.

Remus stiffened, giving himself a shake and banishing the unwanted thoughts. He wouldn't do this right now; he couldn't. Instead, he continued to read in the dark of his bedroom without effort, his abnormal vision a constant, subconscious reminder of what he was trying to ignore.

He read on until the girl had gotten away from the dogs - the man she was traveling with enchanted them into kindness - and his eyelids were heavy again. He glanced over to the clock hung above the empty wall where his bookshelves sat - which he had to remember to put his books in tomorrow.

Three in the morning. He flicked his eyes closed, setting the book aside and rolling over, pulling his covers up to his neck - a nervous habit - and buried his face into the pillow, pinching his eyes closed and thinking about the sorceror from the book until sleep swept him away.


Remus woke at around six the following morning, his muscles twinging painfully. He grimaced. If the pain was this prominent this early on, it meant the transformation was going to be a bad one. He'd probably end up with more scars.

Sighing, the sandy-haired boy pulled himself out of bed and fiddled with the covers and pillows until the bed looked sort of made. He stretched his aching arms up toward the ceiling, twisting himself around slightly to loosen his spine before letting his arms fall back to his side. He reached for a discarded shirt near his hamper, picking it up and sniffing it hesitantly.

Giving a shrug, he pulled it over his head and smoothed out a couple of the t-shirt's wrinkles. He trailed over to his bedside table, picking up his book and starting down the steps of the eerily quiet Lupin household.

Mrs. Lupin was silently frying bacon over the stove when he entered the kitchen. She offered him a warm smile, but he couldn't miss the streaks of grey in her hair as he returned the look.

His transformations had taken a toll on her as well, leaving her unable to eat the first several times. She had spent many months arguing through the night with Lyall about finding a cure. Remus had heard it all, of course. He heard everything after that night, unless his father cast silencing charms.

It was near the full moon, and his mother knew it as well as he did, so neither said a word as he sank on to a stool at the island.

"Good morning," she said quietly after a moment, taking his bacon off of the pan earlier than the rest, folding it in a paper towel and placing it on the wooden island behind her, nodding to it.

"Morning," Remus offered cheerily in response, trying to ignore her somber mood as he dragged the paper towel of goodies toward himself. He settled his book a little ways to the side, and started up a light conversation about the story he was reading. His mom loved books almost as much as he did - it was the only thing around that time of the month that the two of them could talk about without forcing it.

Mr. Lupin was off work for the day, and he trailed out of his study (he liked to work from home the days he got off, usually on finding a cure, but he pretended it was normal work stuff) a few moments later. He didn't smile as his gaze fell upon Remus, and Remus ducked his head to hide the pained expression that simple lack of gesture caused him.

It's not you, he's just in a bad mood, he told himself firmly, pulling his book toward himself protectively as his dad walked past the island, pecking his mom on the cheek in a good morning greeting.

The Lupin household spent the rest of the morning in the usual manner. Stiff conversation when Remus intervened, occasionally softening when his father's mood fluctuated, and then a bit of awkward silence as Remus prattled on to his mother about the book he'd read.

Things would go okay for a while, until there would be the off mention of holidays, or neighbors. Most of the family members on his father's side had abandoned them because of Remus's…condition. Remus wasn't allowed to meet the neighborhood kids. Muggles or not, Lyall insisted it wasn't safe.

Remus trailed over toward the window in the sitting room, leaving his parents to talking quietly and pushing open the window to let in a gust of fresh air. He'd had a bit of a fear of ground-level windows for a few years, and he still wasn't comfortable sleeping on the lower floors of a building, but he was proud to say that he'd gotten over his stupid aversion to open windows fairly quickly. He liked the fresh air.

As he prepared himself for a day of reading, there was a sudden rush of wind and the fluttering of wings as a horned owl swept in the newly-opened window.

Remus's eyes widened as the owl perched itself on his knee - completely unafraid of him as most animals were - and extended its leg, to which a strange looking letter was attached.

Lyall Lupin was already striding from the kitchen, expression bordering on irritated as he extended his hand to Remus, who had already removed the letter from the owl's leg. The owl promptly hooted, spreading its wings and soaring out of the open window almost immediately.

"Remus, give it here," his father said coldly as his son ran his finger over the large red seal over the back of the letter, his hazel eyes impossibly wide.

"It's to me," Remus said in a voice barely above a whisper, turning the letter over and looking up at his father, tapping his name on the front of the envelope with a look of disbelief and unadulterated excitement.

Lyall's expression darkened dangerously as he yanked the letter from his unsuspecting son's hands. "This is some kind of cruel joke," he snarled angrily as he took a few steps away from his son, flipping the letter over a few times. He pulled out his wand, beginning to cast a few quietly muttered spells over the envelope as Remus watched him in clear sadness.

Hope had entered the room now, eyes blazing with protective anger. "What is this?" she demanded in a quiet whisper, grabbing her husband by the elbow and looking to Remus and back to him very pointedly.

"I don't know," Lyall admitted quietly, pinching his eyes closed in irritation and bumping his glasses out of the way to rub at the bridge of his nose. "Dumbledore knows; he wouldn't do this to us. It's probably cursed," he muttered as he inspected the letter.

"Who's it from?" Remus asked, striding across the room with furrowed eyebrows. He knew the red letters that his father had received from his family (and promptly set on fire) were bad, but this letter had seemed perfectly ordinary. In fact, it seemed better than ordinary. Remus could feel the light, happy, energetic magic that buzzed around its corners and off of its seal. He could tell it came from a place of good intentions.

He just knew.

"No one, Remus," Mr. Lupin responded stiffly, looking down at his son with an all-too familiar look of deep regret and anguish. "I'm sorry," he offered.

Remus shook his head insistently, reaching out a hand. "You checked it, it's safe," he said, feeling urgently attached to the letter for some reason. "Please let me read it? It's for me." Remus could feel his heart rate picking up, the distinct feeling of impulsiveness he had become familiar with over the years igniting inside him.

Lyall held it from his son's reach, expression darkening. "Remus, that's enough," he said sharply, in a tone that sent Remus back a step, his expression properly wounded. "This letter could be dangerous. You don't open any of these. You find anymore and you come straight to me, do you understand?"

Remus bit his tongue to hold back the unreasonable, moderately inhuman anger he felt surfacing. He forced a jerky nod, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists as he struggled to control the raging temper. He wanted to break something. The moon made it more difficult - no, the moon made it all that way to begin with.

A growl began to build low in his chest but he swung around, trying to rationalize that the anger he felt was disproportionate to the situation. The letter was probably cursed to burn his hands, or give him painful boils, or claws. He'd opened a few like that when he was younger, from relatives on his father's side, when they had been addressed to him.

Then his parents had stopped letting him get the mail.

"I'm going to my room," he mumbled hastily, scooping up his book from the armrest where he had left it and making to move past the two. But just then, there was a quiet, rhythmic knock on the door.

Remus paused, spinning around with wide, curious hazel eyes. He could feel the magic from behind the front door, and a strange sort of scent was reaching his extremely acute senses. It was like fire, and ash. It reeked of power unlike anything a muggle had ever carried on them. And it had a hint of…lemon?

Lyall didn't seem to sense anything as he made his way over to the door, envelope still clutched in his hand as he opened it.

The door swung open to reveal a fairly tall, very old man dressed in vibrant purple robes. He had a long, greyish-white beard, and kind blue eyes that twinkled when they landed upon Remus.

"May I come in?" the man asked politely.