Disclaimer: I do not own anything. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling. I own the plot.

This is a story about the Marauders. That's right, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, & James Potter. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, & Prongs. The Marauders! This story will also contain SLASH! MALE / MALE RELATIONSHIP! The lovely couple will be Remus & Sirius and POSSIBLY Harry & Draco in much LATER chapters. No Like, No Want, No Read!

Those of you who DO like Slashy Yummy-ness, you may scroll down for the third chapter!

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The Chronicles of a Werewolf

Chapter Three:

Fantastic Beasts

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Remus looked at Harry when he sensed something was wrong.

"Harry?" He said softly. "Are you alright?"

Harry's eyes were wide. "You … ring… Sirius … what … how ..." The Gryffindor shook his head quickly and looked up into the werewolf's eyes. "When?"

The older man tilted his head to the side and eyed Harry skeptically. "What are you on about?"

"You and Sirius!" Harry yelled, throwing his hands into the air.

Remus blanched. He paled visibly and fell backwards against the wall behind him. Before the werewolf could say anything however, Harry was already throwing questions at him.

"Why didn't you tell me? How long? Since when? Did my dad know? Why didn't you tell me?"

Having caught his breath, the amber-eyed adult put a hand over his eyes. He had wanted to tell Harry this summer, but not this soon, and definitely not like this.

Damn that tapestry.

He took another deep breath and pushed himself up from the wall. "Well, Harry, we didn't tell you because we didn't have a chance. We've been married since we were eighteen; we've been together since our sixth year at Hogwarts. And, yes, your father knew; he knew even before we knew."

"So you aren't denying it?"

"Why would I deny it?"

Harry opened and closed his mouth several times. "I must say... it's not really that shocking."

Remus laughed. Not because what Harry had said was funny, but because he was relieved. Relieved that Harry wasn't disgusted.

"I mean," Harry continued, ignoring the older man's laughter. "You guys always looked at each other, and that night in the Shrieking Shack when Snape said you two argued like an old married coup- hold on! Does Snape know too?"

The Marauder laughed again. "Yes, Harry, Snape knows."

"Why are you laughing?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Because I'm nervous." The werewolf said truthfully. "It's a nervous habit of mine. But I'm also laughing because I'm relieved."

"About what?"

"That you aren't taking this badly."

"What did you think I'd do? Yell that it's sick and storm out?"

"Well, yes actually."

"Well, if that's what you think I'd do, I might as well." Harry said with a smirk as he began to walk for the door.

The door slammed and locked. "Don't even think about it, Potter."

"So do you want to tell me how all of this started?" Harry asked smiling as he joined Remus in the middle of the room. "Or do I have to force it out of you?"

The older Gryffindor raised an eyebrow. "I'd like to see you try."

"You forget that I'm the Boy-Who-Lived."

"Ah, but you see, I'm a Marauder."

"We'll see about that!"

Then Harry lunged, knocking Remus down onto the ground, both men laughing. They rolled across the dusty floor tickling each other trying to gain the upper hand. Finally, Remus pulled out his wand and cast the tickling charm. Satisfied with his work, he stood up wiping the dust from his robes.

"Y-you ch-chea-cheated!" Harry panted between laughs as he continued to roll across the floor.

"Yes, well," Remus said as if nothing were out of the ordinary. "I did warn you that you were up against a Marauder. Way I see it, I gave you fair warning."

Finally, the adult laughed and released the charm off of the now panting man.

"You'll get it one of these days."

"Oh, I'm shaking in my fur."

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"You never answered my question." Harry said calmly as he sipped his tea loudly.

After their battle-of-the-ticklish, Remus had suggested they take a break for lunch. Both men were now sitting across from each other at the wooden table in the small dark kitchen. Remus was eating a small tuna sandwich while Harry was holding a steaming cup of peppermint tea.

"What question?" Remus asked innocently.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I asked you if you would tell me when this whole thing started."

The werewolf became quiet and set his sandwich down. He looked up at Harry slowly. He stared into those green eyes, considering. Then very slowly he said, "Where do you want me to start?"

The Gryffindor smiled and set his cup down. He leaned forward and curled his legs underneath him comfortably. "At the beginning! The very beginning!"

Remus sighed. "Alright, we'll start the day I was bitten."

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April 9, 1963

I was just a small boy. Only three or four at the time. I lived with my mother and father in the country. Close to where The Burrow is now. Our house was the only one in a five mile radius. There was a large meadow for our front yard and a small forest as our back yard. In the middle of the forest was a small lake that my father and I would go swimming in occasionally. It was there that it all happened.

My father and I had thought it would be nice to go for a midnight swim; the full moon would light our way. My dad carried me on his shoulders and I held our towels as we ambled through the path we had made towards the lake.

When we reached the calm peaceful water, my dad didn't even hesitate to throw me in. I was young, yes, but I had learnt to swim when I was only a few months old. As I doggy paddled around in circles my father soon joined me. We began splashing around and playing games such as Marco Polo – he was a wizard, you know.

My dad was "it" and he had just yelled, "Marco!" when I sensed something was wrong. I turned around to find two huge yellow eyes looking at me from behind a bush. My father, who had begun to worry when I had not yelled, "Polo!" swam over to me and asked me if everything was okay. All I could do was point a shaking finger at the massive Werewolf.

Pointing had been a mistake, because as soon as my little hand was suspended in the air the giant beast let out a long howl and jumped into the water. It lunged straight for me, but I was too afraid to move. My dad managed to stun the wolf before it could drag me away, but it was too late, I was already bitten.

My father levitated the unconscious lycanthrope back into the forest behind a bush and left it. He then wrapped me in a towel, and carried me back to our house, tears streaming down his face. I'll never forget the sound of his laboured breathing as he sobbed quietly.

"Oh god no!" My mother sobbed as she caught sight of us. She had heard the beast howling. "Please no!"

"Help me get his bite cleaned." Dad spoke quietly as he gently lay me down onto the sofa in the family room.

Mum ripped apart several sheets to soak up the blood. She then wrapped me up so that my bite was covered and protected against infection.

"He's so pale." She whispered.

"I know, Mary! I know!" My father paced the living room, not knowing what to do.

"Papa," I said weakly. The room was quickly becoming darker and darker. "Mama."

"David! Call St. Mungo's!"

Then I passed out.

I woke up three days later in a very white room. So white it hurt my eyes to look at the walls. Unfortunately my parents had seen my eyes flicker and I was forced to open them again to the blinding light.

I whimpered slightly.

"Mama, Papa, where am I?" I asked, squinting up at them.

"St. Mungo's dear."

"Am I dying?"

My mother sobbed, but my father smiled sadly at me. "No, Rem, you aren't dying."

"Then why am I here?"

I could feel a warm washcloth on my forehead. Mother was running her hands through my hair as dad squeezed my hand.

"You were hurt." He said quietly.

"When can I go home?" I asked. I didn't like the smell of that place. It smelt like any sterile hospital would, but … different somehow. I could smell sadness, anger, fear, and even death. I knew then that something was wrong. These smells were unfamiliar to me, yet I knew them.

"You can go home soon, sweetie." Mum reassured me with a smile.

"Mama," I whimpered as the smells became too strong for me, my eyes began watering and I was beginning to feel a strange gnawing sensation in my mind as if something was trying to eat its way out of my body. "I don't like this place!"

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"How were you able to smell those things?"

Harry was resting his elbows on the table with his head in his hands. His green eyes were round as saucers as he became lost in the werewolf's story.

"Well," Remus started, leaning back in his chair. "It was the third day after I was bitten and I was only a small child. The wolf in me felt threatened by the many emotions, that I couldn't control it."

Harry, fascinated by this information about lycanthropy (he had not completed the essay Snape assigned to him in third year) looked at Remus so intently that the werewolf almost smiled. He hadn't expected Harry to hold such an interest, and it was doing the young man good to think about something other than Sirius.

"Would you like me to continue?" Remus asked.

The younger Gryffindor nodded.

--¤¤§¤¤--

I arrived home a few days later. My bite had completely healed and all that remained was a jagged, crescent shaped scar.

I had taken the news of my… change… rather badly. I think I cried for almost two days. As a small child, I worried about making friends, and now with my condition, I feared that no one would want to play with me.

When I walked into my house I was met with a new smell. My spirit, if possible, sunk even lower. I just got away from the horrible stench in St. Mungo's, and now there was more?

But this one was different.

This one smelt… happy.

Curious.

Feline?

I looked around and instinctually sniffed the air. "Is that a cat?" I thought to myself. I followed the scent to my bedroom.

My heart stopped.

There, on a small fluffy blue blanket was the smallest kitten I have ever seen. It was curled up in a ball, its creamy white fur sticking up in all directions.

As I stood in my doorway in shock, my parents approached me on either side, my dad's hand on my shoulder. "What do you think?" he asked me smiling.

"We got her just two days ago." My mother spoke up. "She's part Siamese and part Kneazle."

I was speechless. I didn't know what to think! Part of me was excited; happy to have a pet of my own. Yet, the other part of me, the lupine part, didn't trust this intruder – ironic, as the wolf was an intruder as well.

"I love her." I whispered finally. I turned around to face my parents and looked up to their smiling faces as I hugged their waists. "What's her name?"

"She doesn't have one." Mum answered. "Not yet."

I jumped slightly and looked down when I heard a small mewl near my feet. There she sat. My little Kneazle. Her large blue eyes caught my attention immediately. They were an unnatural colour, lighter than the sky and yet darker than the ocean and unlike many animal eyes, there was an intelligent look to them. As if she knew all the secrets to the world. They were a perfect contrast with her creamy fur and brown paws.

I reached down and picked her up. She fit perfectly in my arms, her long, lion-like tail sweeping against my face. She was gorgeous! She licked my lips and mewed affectionately.

That was it! I knew what I would name her!

"Mew!" I said happily. "Her name is Mew!"

The small Kneazle mewled again and licked my nose. I was in love! She was my first pet and I would take great care of her or die trying!

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"What happened to Mew? Do you still have her?" Harry asked curiously.

Remus smiled sadly, "She died. A long time ago."

"I'm sorry, Remus!" The Gryffindor said comfortingly. "How did she die?" Harry vaguely remembered Hermione telling him that Kneazles had long life spans. They had even been known to outlive their owners.

The Lycan sighed. "All things die, Harry. That is just part of the story of how Sirius and I came together."

Harry sighed and looked into the dregs of his tea. "You are the only man who has possibly had a worse life then me."

"I don't think so." The adult said softly, his amber eyes twinkling.

The Gryffindor arched an eyebrow. "How so?" he asked. Lycanthropy and the loss of one's companions didn't seem to be that appealing.

"Well," the lupine Marauder started, "I think I've been dealt good cards as well as the bad."

Harry looked up, feeling a sadness, which for once had nothing to do with Sirius. "What was so great?"

He looked at Harry with a proud smile, "Like I said in the Shrieking Shack, your parents, Sirius and … Peter, too, accepted me the way nobody else would. They were better friends than I could have ever hoped for – we were almost like family. And now I have you to protect; you're almost a son to me, just as much as you were to Sirius."

(TBC)

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I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

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