A/N: I don't own Harry Potter. This was written for I Am A Book Ninja's competition, "Princess Bride Quote Challenge".
Remus POV:
The night I first turned into what I am now, it was pretty average for the most part. The sun was just beginning to set, and crisp, clean autumn air surrounded me. I remember everything like it had just happened yesterday.
That evening, I was walking down the street with my bicycle, heading home after a day in the park with a few of my Muggle friends. I was about seven at the time. The sky was streaked with all different colors- pinks, blues, and purples. I had always been one to admire the natural beauty of things, and that had made me stand apart from most other children my age.
Up ahead of me, there was a patch of woods. Everyone said to stay out of the woods, because there were stories of ghosts and axe murderers hiding there. No one ever went into the woods. Unfortunately, I needed to walk past them every day to get to and from school. The trees were too thick to see too far in, but those that I could see were constantly shrouded in darkness, even on the brightest of days.
As I approached the woods, there was a sound behind me. I glanced back to see an unnaturally tall figure walking about twenty feet behind me. There was a limp in his long gait, and he seemed to be leaning to one side- as if his leg was badly injured. I was startled, to say the least, to see someone there so my eyes snapped forward again, and I began to walk a bit more quickly.
Soon, I was right next to the dark woods that in retrospect seemed so much like the Forbidden Forest. I could hear strange sounds coming from the trees, which only added to my incoming sense of dread.
Calm down, Remus, I tried to tell myself, don't jump to conclusions. You don't know if that man is bad; so don't assume that he is. What I told myself did nothing to calm my nerves. I kept on walking.
A few moments later, I heard the man's footsteps even closer than before. When I dared to glance back I saw that he had advanced, and now was about ten feet away from me. He was wearing a long dark trench coat and his eyes and a hat covered face. I was really scared at that point- when I was younger, horror movies always terrified me, and this felt a lot like the opening scene of one.
My walk quickened, until I was full out running down the street, eager to get to my house and away from all of this. I could hear his walk hurry up to match mine until he was sprinting towards me. I could see my house in the distance, maybe half a mile away. The woods still continued on next to me, and they were hardly the most prominent danger at the moment. There was a rustle behind me, and when I glanced back I saw that the man had stripped off his jacket and hat, and his features were now visible. I had seen this man before. His face was plastered on the cover of the Daily Prophet. I tried to think, but his name wouldn't come to me. Then suddenly, I remembered. This was Fenrir Greyback, werewolf wanted for murder.
The pace of my breath hastened as I ran as fast as I could, leaving my beloved bike behind me. I heard the subtle crunch of metal behind me, and noticed in passing the full moon.
Oh no, full moon? I was terribly frightened, to say the least. There was the sound of ripping fabric, and I knew that his transformation into a wolf had begun. I could just barely hear the soft thud of his paws on the asphalt. Soon I could hear his uneven, jagged breathing and the snap of his jaws that could easily crush a human skull.
Then, he was right on top of me. I ran into the only place I could think of- the woods. I was running blindly through the trees, barely feeling the harsh slap of branches hitting my face, and quickly regaining my balance when I stumbled on the many tree roots. My attempts of escape, though, were in vain. Soon I could feel his razor-sharp claws on my thigh and then I was knocked to the ground.
Fenrir started in on my, and it was all I could do to protect my face. He began to claw up my legs, lapping up the blood that pooled at my feet. I tried to cry out for help, but was immediately silenced by the deep growl emitting from the wolf's throat. So I sat there, crying silently with the occasional audible whimper while he slowly began to bite and claw at my legs.
Then, he stopped at my legs and walked towards my head. I clenched my fists and squeezed my eyes tight; preparing myself for the unbearable agony that was about to overwhelm me. He slightly parted his lips, smiling a cruel wolf grin. He opened his jaws, and began to pull at my hair. My scalp burned at the loss of clumps of hair, yet I didn't make a sound for I knew that if I outwardly yelled, my fate would be even more painful than before.
He dragged me by the hair further into the woods, and was about to maul my face. Suddenly, he stopped in his place. His pointed ears priced up, and then howled off into the distance. Then, there was a howl that must've been two or three miles away. He bayed once more before shooting me a disgusted look and trotting off into the murky darkness of the forest.
I lay in that spot for hours, feeling so much pain and stinging at once. Every few minutes I tried to convince myself to get up and move back to the road, but my body outright refused to move, so I ended up staying still. When the night was black and the moon hanging in the middle of the sky, I finally willed myself to get up and move a little. The huge gash in my leg had set a bit, but when I stood up it reopened and the pain came back, almost as strong as when I got the wound. Even so, I kept on walking towards the sound of the occasional car speeding by on the road. Soon, I emerged from the inky black forest to the road that I had been just hours previously, though it felt like a lifetime I was walking with my bicycle, just going home from a day at the park.
I limped to the side of the road, and gazed at the remnants of what used to be my bike. It was a complete wreck now, with shredded tires and the metal bars twisted at odd angles. It was unsalvageable, so I just continued down the street towards my house.
When I took the first step on the gravel road, I gasped for air and immediately retreated back to the grass. I had lost my shoes somewhere in the forest and the cuts on my feet had begun to bleed once more. There was no way I'd be able to walk on the road without making my cuts even worse, so I just walked on the grass.
The wet dew on everyone's lawns soothed my feet a bit, and didn't make it so hard to walk. My legs were still burning like someone had raised a match to them, but I bit back the pain, clenched my fists, and carried on.
A few cars roared by me while I was walking, but none slowed to check to see if the bloodied, mangled boy on the side of the road was alright. Not that I'd expected the to, though. And it would be a bit hard to explain to Muggles that a werewolf attacked me.
I soon reached my house, with the warm porch lights casting a soft glow onto the front lawn. Through the front window, I could see my mother reading a book on the couch. When I approached the front porch, she glanced up and instantly turned as white as a sheet. She shut her book and put it on a side table before hurrying outside to see me.
"Where were you? Your father and I…" she trailed off, seeing the blood that covered me. ""My poor Remus! What happened?" She put an arm around me and helped me inside. I grimaced at the pain, but didn't make a sound. Whining would only worry my mother even more. When we were inside and sitting on the couch, she called for my father. He came downstairs and looked horrified at the amount of blood streaked on my face and body.
"What happened?" he asked firmly, a look in his eyes that clearly said, I will murder whoever did this to you.
I knew that there was no point in lying so I truthfully said, "There was a werewolf. Fenrir Greyback."
My father inhaled sharply, and sat down on the couch next to my mother. "I was worried about this," he muttered more to himself than anyone else. "Where did it happen?" he said more loudly and clearly.
"In the woods." I replied meekly, beginning to become dizzy from the blood loss.
"Can you go get a wet towel?" Dad asked my mother, who nodded and hurried to the bathroom where we kept all of the towels. I soon heard running water from the tap, and my mother's worried footsteps pacing around the hall.
"Listen, you've been attacked by a werewolf. Things are going to be a little different now, do you understand?" His voice was low and intense. I nodded, even though at the time I didn't know how different he meant. "This means that every month at the full moon, you're going to change. I know that it wasn't your fault, but bad things are going to happen. You'll change into one of them as well, and it will be very painful. You won't be able to control yourself then. Also, we're going to need to talk to the people at Hogwarts to make sure you're still allowed to go." He finished, the serious expression still on his face.
I remember that I was so scared. Usually my father was such a light and easy-going person. Whenever he was harsh like this meant that something bad was afoot. Even at the age of seven, I realized this. Now every month at the full moon, I change into a horrid beast. Dumbledore let me go to the shrieking shack during my transformation so I would be away from everyone and I wouldn't do anything I would regret. Just once I wasn't in the safe house during my transformation, and it was horrible- or so I'm told. Whenever I change into a werewolf, I can't remember a single thing. I can just fell the emotion of rage and hunger, and that is all that carries across to the next morning. I was- and still am- horrified at the beast I've become, but no way is that going to stop me living my life. Lycanthropy is just a mere obstacle on the road of life. An obstacle that I can and will overcome every month.