Chapter One: Here Lies Hope

It was a pleasant spring day and Remus Lupin was standing by his favorite tree out in the schoolyard, lost in thoughts of summer when he wouldn't have to attend this dreary place. He was so lost in his thoughts, a rather common occurrence for him, that he didn't realize people were creeping up on him until it was too late.

Several pairs of rough hands shoved him down onto the ground, his head hitting the dirt hard momentarily stunning him. The older boys positioned themselves in a strategic circle around him, successfully blocking him from the teacher's view.

"YOU'RE A FREAK!" Came the roar that echoed in his ringing ears. He winced at the volume and braced himself for what was to come. He tried to sit up dirt in his mouth blood leaking from his nose. He didn't get far as a heavy boot connected with his ribs over and over. His mother had told him how to deal with bullies. "Kill them with Kindness Remus darling." She had instructed him over and over. It never worked and he knew it never would. He was too different from them, too easy a target.

Even the teachers didn't seem to care about the small ten-year-old who had disrupted class more than once. Papers flying, glass shattering, and several times the school pets freed from their cages. No one could explain how he did it. Of course, he could since he knew how. It was the same reason his father could levitate things with the flick of the wand, the same reason his mother lit up when his father conjured a flower to hand to her. Magic.

It still sounded funny on his tongue every time he whispered it to himself forcing himself to believe it would bring him something other than the misery it always seemed to. But he could never tell these boys kicking and taunting him, couldn't even tell the teachers who would smile at him one minute for his grades and shout at him the next when he "skipped school too often" and "caused so much disruption."

However, even if he wasn't surrounded by muggle children he'd undoubtedly be in the same position. For Remus Lupin's oddness stretched beyond being a wizard, it was so much more than that, painstakingly torturously more, and he only had himself to blame.

"LOOPY LOONY LUPIN!" They shrieked giving up their assault on him for name calling. He didn't dare move for fear the rocks would start flying, a favorite past time of the kid's attacks on him. They desperately wanted him to cry, part of him reasoned if he did cry they might leave him alone. Sure they would laugh at him but there was something about tears that suddenly made even the most unobservant teacher rush over. However he refused to give them that satisfaction, plus he dealt with worse, so much worse on a monthly basis.

"TEACHER'S PET! ARSEHOLE! DICKHEAD!" The words blurred together barely reaching his ears. He was falling away from the conversation into the dark pit that consumed his thoughts every time he was reminded of the monster he was. His fault, it was all his fault. He was an insolent child, a bad child, that much was certain.

If only he hadn't followed that stranger away from safety. If only he had the sense not to fall for such a ridiculous ploy. If only he hadn't let that man take him far away if only he hadn't let the man hurt him, let him bite him. If only he had died, become the meal he was supposed to. Tears actually did prick his eyes now and he swallowed feeling a lump in his throat. A constant disappointment to his parents, that's what he was. That and a monster that raged against him once a month littering his little body with large scars that never healed and cost his family more money than they could afford.

"You ought to kill yourself." It wasn't the boy's voice echoing in his head anymore. He knew this new voice well. It was the same voice that pulled him away from family functions to whisper in a malicious tone. It was his uncle's voice, his father's older brother. The man whose frequent lectures made Remus feel like the creature he was. Not human, not one of us, not one of the family, not one of the schoolboys, not even a wizard. He'd never hold a wand, never go to Hogwarts, never take his N.E.W.T.S. Because Remus Lupin was and had been since he was five, a werewolf.

"RIIIIIIIIIIIING!" Came the obnoxious bell signaling the end of recess. Children rushed towards the building in the distant, including the boys who had been bullying him. It took him a second to untangle himself, his lanky limbs shaking slightly from all the emotions he had been suppressing for as long as he could remember. He hardly had time to berate himself for wanting to walk outside instead of taking refuge in the school library, for he was late and try as he might he couldn't get his sore legs to move fast enough.

"Mr. Lupin! Quit dawdling!" Came Mr. Fiefers shout.

Sure now pay attention, he thought bitterly before shaking himself. His teachers were good people, they weren't the problem he was. He forced himself to move faster almost crying out from the pain, it was only the third day after the full moon and his whole body ached with the leftover trauma of the transformation. Plus, it left him dizzy with blood loss and fever despite the costly potions he took to remedy this.

"Sorry, Mr. Fiefer."

"Just get inside." Came the impatient response as his professor practically slammed the door on Remus. The day passed in a similar fashion of indifference and tediousness. No matter how many times he was expelled all the many schools he been to had roughly the same routine. He jotted down his notes and answered the asked questions quietly to himself, even knowing all of the answers he would never dare answer them out loud.

He may often hate himself but he didn't fancy dying anytime soon, well...not really. So the hours stretched on and with them the classes. Different classes brought the same classification of teachers. Those who tolerated him and those who did not, as well as students who tolerated him and those who made it their mission to drive him from the school, as if they somehow instinctively knew the beast he was.

End of the school day brought little relief as it brought with it the journey home. He dashed out of the building despite his many pains. It was much worse when he was caught by the bigger boys after school. There was no bell to stop them then and they never ceased to tire of coming up with new imaginative ways to torment him. Luckily every time he moved schools, for multiple reasons, they moved to a different town.

He had a little less than half a mile to his house from this school he had been at for a short time, and if the pattern stuck he wouldn't be here much longer. Most schools wouldn't tolerate his many missed days for very long. But for the meantime, this location meant a short walk home which he truly did appreciate. But it didn't really make him feel much better since normally he wouldn't have to be running for his life so soon after the full moon at all.

Usually, he would be picked up from school instead. But that was when his mother was alive, now it was just his father and him. His father didn't pay Remus much attention unless it was locking him in the porta potty sized shed once a month, or if Remus did something wrong. So he would have to get used walking home no matter how far that may be. He had gotten used to hardly seeing his father in the wake of his mother dying and he didn't even expect his father to give him the time of day anymore. So it was the shock of his life when he silently entered his house shivering despite the thin sheen of sweat covering him, to see his father sitting at the kitchen table a letter clutched firmly in his hands.

"D…...dad…..?" He ventured towards him cautiously. There were no empty bottles but he didn't fancy getting smacked around any more than he already had today. His father was desperately clutching at a letter like a drowning man might clutch at a lifeline and rather than ignore Remus, which seemed to be the case 95% of the time, he turned to look at him.

"Son come here." His voice was thick and his steel colored eyes were bloodshot. This wasn't uncommon as his father spent a great deal of time crying after the love of his life passed away nearly six months ago on a gloomy September evening.

Remus didn't dare disobey but his legs shook slightly. If this was another letter from school on his 'lack of participation' he was in for it. However, his father didn't have the cold look in his eyes that led to outbursts of rage nor were they glassy and unfocused which led to Remus cleaning up puke and tucking him in at night. Instead, his father was looking at Remus as if seeing him for the first time. He shifted uncomfortably and now stood within reaching distance of his father. He flinched as strong arms grabbed him.

"I'm sorry!" He said habitually flinching, however, he was drawn closer to his father and couldn't suppress the gasp that escaped him at the shock. His father was hugging him! He couldn't remember the last time his father had hugged him. Hugging had always been his mother's job since she was the one who had wanted him who had forced his father to keep him. The same man who had drunkenly confessed to Remus the only reason he was still here was because his mother's dying wish was for him to take care of him, was embracing Remus like a loving father.

"Dad?" He asked in a small voice terrified at what this turn of events might mean. His father hadn't even hugged him when his mother died.

"You have a chance!" Mr. Lupin cried tears rolling onto Remus' shoulders. He felt a wave of exhaustion crash over him, maybe his father was drunk after all since he wasn't making any sense. Then he let go of him both too soon and not soon enough. Remus swayed the support suddenly gone.

"You may be able to go to Hogwarts!" His father confessed in a hushed voice as if saying it out loud might make it not so.

"What?" A dream, this must be a dream, had to be a dream. His head spun and his vision got rather fuzzy, this couldn't be reality surely not.

"Remus you may be going to Hogwarts!" Now his father shouted it with more joy than Remus had ever heard. More shocking still was the fact his father's dark blue/grey eyes were filled with a pride Remus had only ever dreamed about being the recipient of.

"Oh?" He managed to utter, thoroughly bewildered, before he blacked out. He vaguely recalled his father actually catching him rather than avoiding contact with him like usual, as if Remus might suddenly bite him.

...

In the morning Remus found a glass of water by his bedside. Next to it was a hurriedly scrawled note with poor handwriting that would have offended his proper mother had she been alive to see it.

'Remus Headmaster Dumbledore is coming to talk to us in a few weeks to discuss your possible future attendance. Do not mess this up. Make sure you don't stick a single toe over the line or the consequences will be severe. Don't do anything to jeopardize your one chance at being normal.'

Remus finished reading it clutching the letter in a similar fashion to how his father had yesterday. His stomach rumbled chastising him for skipping dinner almost three days in a row. However, Remus hardly registered this nor did he brood over his father's choice of words how he usually would. Instead, the all-consuming fire of hope had come alive in him and made him feel very restless and very tired all at once. It didn't seem fair he had to wait two whole weeks to find out what the rest of his future would be like. He hopped off his bed nearly falling as his ankle throbbed in protest to the sudden movement.

Because of his typical battered and or sick condition he couldn't jump in anticipation like most boys. Nor could he run around and expel some of the wild energy that had surfaced suddenly in him. Instead, he had to settle for pacing as he frantically tried to sort through his thoughts and feelings. He shouldn't be so hopeful, after all, it wasn't a done deal and for all he knew, this headmaster didn't know about Remus' lycanthropy. Hope fizzled as quickly as it came and a leaden sense of despair took its place.

Whatever this meeting with the headmaster would bring it certainly wasn't going to acceptance and inclusion, this Remus was certain of...well, almost. Try as he might he couldn't completely squash the rather resilient flicker of hope that stayed with him determinedly, somehow making it easier and so much harder to get through the next two weeks.

...

Two weeks flew by quickly. The school was now thankfully nearing its end. On March 10th Remus spent his 11th birthday alone letting himself cry as he clutched his mother's knitted quilt to his chest. Last birthday the two of them had gone to the beach, something of a rarity for him despite the close proximity of their quaint town to the ocean. It had been a rainy day and his mother had laughed gleefully as she jumped in the puddles encouraging him to do the same.

"Remus, love, you must act like a child sometimes! Come join me!" He had, his mother always had a knack for getting him to laugh and enjoy himself even on the worst days.

"Mum." He moaned into the soft quilt only daring to let himself mourn her when his father was gone. They used to be a happy family, he had vague memories of his father laughing and running with him on his shoulders boyish shrieks of glee filling the air.

But that had been before. After...well after only his mother could get his once cheerful father to crack a smile. Both of them had been transformed from what they used to be though. After the month he'd been gone and the weeks he'd been in the hospital both his mother and father had aged considerably due to worry.

In the first year upon him being back and being a werewolf there was such dismay and worry made worse by the fact Remus wouldn't talk to either of them. However, a few months later the reality of lycanthropy was sinking in for both of them and the focus turned away from the trauma Remus had faced at the hands of his kidnapper to the trauma that would follow monthly due to the same man.

At first, his already loving parents had grown closer because of the whole ordeal but that too changed with time. Most of the time they argued in low voices when they thought he couldn't hear. His father always seemed to lose the arguments and he'd ruffle Remus' hair with grave affection or awkwardly pat his shoulder after the arguments as if to prove something to himself.

There had been good days too when they used to curl up on the couch and his father would only stiffen sometimes as Remus curled against him and read the Daily Prophet with him. Of course, the few days leading to the full moon and after his father only appeared to give him a solemn word of warning and seal the impressively safe but dismally small shed with the necessary spells and charms needed to keep an increasingly large wolf contained.

It took a while but a routine was formed and silent rules established between his father and himself. Things had very slowly gotten better in the years following Remus now being a werewolf. But then his mom got sick. Six months later and she was gone before either of them could wrap their heads around the idea. Then his father began to drink even more excessively than he had before she died and skip work days which is something he never used to do. Remus quickly learned about a year ago to take care of himself and his parents. After that rainy birthday on the beach his mother had gotten sick, at first it seemed to be a cold from being wet too long but unlike with a cold she didn't get better.

Remus shuddered and cried harder a small part of him felt her death was his fault too. For she had gone into the rain to play with him for his birthday, but even worse than that, her usually childish disposition would fade into a sickly worry once a month which took its toll on her after years and years of this. She tried to hide it but he would feel her crying over him and on those days she would be as pale as he was. Of course, no one other than his uncle had dared to blame him for his mother's death. But at her funeral, all the whispers seemed to be accusing him, blaming him.

His uncle was the only one brave enough to outright tell him it was his fault, dragging him away when Remus' father wasn't paying attention which didn't take long. He had recanted to Remus the reason the wizards wouldn't heal his mother. Thanks to the Werewolf Registry, a great proportion of the ministry of magic knew what he was. But this seemed strange to him because being a minor his name remained hidden so only those working in the Magical Bites and Burns ward would know what he was.

As much as Remus blamed himself for everything he couldn't help but wonder if his uncle had made it up about the healers because surely they wouldn't all know about him? Still, in the wake of his mother's death, it hadn't taken much to send Remus fleeing the scene due to guilt and fear, which upon further reflection had most likely been what his uncle had wanted.

His memories jumbled together even darker ones surfacing that he quickly tried and failed to shove away. He cried until he couldn't anymore then he spent the rest of the day how he usually did, curled up with a book. At 11 pm his father came into the house and quickly disappeared into his room. Remus slipped downstairs and warmed up dinner in an almost robotic fashion, this depressing life of there's had become something of a routine for the two of them. He had hoped, had foolishly hoped that the letter from Headmaster Dumbledore would change the routine but his father's hope on Remus getting into Hogwarts seemed to distinguish quickly and more firmly than his own.

He knocked twice on his father's door having set down the plate of food on the floor like he did every night he physically could. He left the plate there where it would be waiting for him when his father opened the door, once Remus had left. He turned to leave as his father never opened the door until he was gone. However, perhaps the routine was changing after all because the door opened. Remus turned quickly afraid he might be yelled at if he didn't. His father stood in the doorway a pensive look in his eyes.

"Tomorrow's the big day." Remus almost said that his father was mistaken that today was his birthday before he realized that's not what he was talking about at all. Albus Dumbledore had agreed to come to meet Remus, to talk and decide if Hogwarts would indeed be in his future, on March 11th. Tomorrow! A thrill of excitement ran through him though his facial expressions remained in that neutral place he found was the safest option.

"Yes, father. I won't let you down father." He whispered. His father gave a curt nod and bent down to pick up the food.

"Thank you." He muttered and then disappeared once more behind the closed door. Once his father's door was out of sight Remus did a little dance of nerves and barely suppressed hope. The great Albus Dumbledore was coming here to talk to him! Excitement turned to panic. Here? He looked around the dingy house they'd been living in for the past five months.

There was a sheen of dust on surfaces and wilted flowers in the flower pot. There was a stain on the carpet and even though Remus regularly did the dishes the two in the sink from yesterday seemed to scream how filthy the place was. Dumbledore would take one look at this place and deem Remus an irresponsible werewolf who didn't deserve Hogwarts if he couldn't even bother to keep up on his chores. He rolled up his sleeves and squared his shoulders determination reflecting in those eyes that were far too old for the little boy they belonged to.

"I'll make you proud mum." He whispered then set to work cleaning long into the night.