12. It's a Hard Knock Life
Family/Angst, 2,356 words, Rated T
"Everyone, we have a new person joining our group today."
The child was glued to his mother's side as he entered the bright room, encouraged by her hand gently pushing between his shoulder blades. Wide, nervous green eyes darted from one person to another, taking in the room and the people seated within it with caution.
"Care to introduce yourself?"
It was the same voice, steady but kind. The child was quick to locate the speaker, an eccentric-looking man, who appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He had ruffled hair, an unusual shade somewhere between blond and ginger. He wore glasses with thick frames that seemed too large for his narrow face, which was adorned with various scars and freckles. His clothing was most peculiar; a yellow checkered button-up shirt topped with a red bowtie, and dark overalls to finish the look.
"My name's Remus," the child introduced himself. He felt uncomfortable with meeting any of the several gazes that rested upon him, and so his eyes wandered around the spacious room. It was well-lit, with skylights in the panelled ceiling. The walls were a warm cream, though completely bare. The only furniture were the bean bags and pillows the group was seated on, and a small, round table at the centre, with a book, several leaflets and a plate of cookies set upon it. "I'm ten years old."
"Remus, you say?" one of the group members spoke up, peering at him curiously. His voice was that bit louder than the other man's, and echoed around the room. He chuckled for a moment, causing Remus to shuffle his feet awkwardly. "Did you know that in some Muggle stories, Remus was a boy raised by wolves?" He chuckled again, almost pitifully. "How fitting. Welcome to our werewolf support group, kiddo."
The first speaker nodded thoughtfully, closing his eyes for a moment. "Yes, welcome, Remus." He opened his eyes once again, offering the boy a smile. "My name is August, and I'm the group leader here." He stretched out an arm, gesturing to an empty bean bag. "Have a seat; don't be shy."
Remus glanced up at his mother for assurance. Hope smiled, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze before leading him over to the beanbag. She took a single pillow beside him, and he didn't want to insist otherwise in front of these strangers.
"I'm Chris," the chuckler introduced himself, nodding to him.
The rest of the group began to chime in with their own names, and Remus only felt more out of place as he attempted to acknowledge each person. There were about eight people in total, excluding himself and his mother. They were all in their twenties or older, save for one girl, Leah, who appeared to be in her teens. She spoke very quietly, and stared at her feet most of the time. They were all marked with scratches and fresh scars, most of the group members very introverted and twitchy. Remus felt his spirits lower even further. Was this what he would be reduced to in ten years' time? Five years? Two?
Remus Lupin, thirteen years old, couldn't look himself in the mirror. There was one in the Gryffindor dorms, one he couldn't take down like he did the ones at home in his room. It wasn't his mirror. And he could always just ask the other boys if they would mind taking it down, but how petty would that sound? How suspicious would that sound?
So he stayed quiet, as he did about most things now.
Until one morning, as he made his way back to his bed after being checked over in the hospital wing. It had been a rough night; one of his worst yet. His body still ached from the transformation, and his limbs felt as though they were made of lead. When he caught a glance of himself in the mirror, he thought he looked worse than he felt.
And then he felt weak at the knees, because his face was covered in fresh cuts, and his cheek had been ripped open at some point during the night, the wound only just closed by the nurse. He had bags under his eyes; his hair was a mess; he had lost so much weight recently and under the hospital gown he knew there were more scars, fresh ones, old ones, worse ones.
He started to cry, unable to hold it back, still fighting off that violent urge to break the mirror into a thousand pieces and the anger at himself for acting so pathetic. He cried even as a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind, steadying him, comforting him, until he was too tired to cry anymore.
But not even his friends could fix his body.
"Yes, I agree, Frasier. That's a good point," August was saying, nodding his head, expression grim despite the small praise.
"Everything feels so temporary," a young woman added miserably. She was picking at her nails as she spoke; they were painted a pretty blue-green. "I'm so sick of keeping secrets. I have to keep moving house, changing jobs, leaving friends..."
August nodded solemnly. He turned to Remus, who felt slightly nervous as he waited for, undoubtedly, an oncoming question. "What about you, Remus? Do you have many friends?"
The boy glanced at his mother, who in that moment wouldn't meet his gaze. His parents, despite their love and support for him, discouraged his friendships with others. Maybe it was better to be lonely than to be lonely and missing someone, because any friends he made were bound to leave. Ever before he had to live a life with lycanthropy, he had had friends. But five-year-olds aren't the best secret-keepers, and it didn't take long for those friends to vanish from his life.
"Hi Ciara!" five-year-old Remus Lupin greeted his best friend excitedly, rocking on his heels as he awaited her reply. "What are we going to play today? I only have a few hours before Dad says he'll take me home."
Ciara turned to him, her expression flat and arms folded. "You're a werewolf."
Remus blinked at her, his heart dropping like a stone. He decided to play it off. "N-no, what are you talking about?"
Ciara frowned and narrowed her eyes. "I know, Remus. Don't lie."
He took a step back, startled. Ciara had blunt opinions, like most small kids, but had never turned on him with her moody accusations. He instinctively glanced over his shoulder to his father, but Lyall was sitting on a bench reading a Muggle newspaper, just out of earshot of what was happening.
Remus turned back to Ciara, face paling rapidly as panic began to rise in his chest. "Well - um - it doesn't really matter, right? I'm still me, look!" He gestured to the entirety of his small body vigorously, forcing a smile.
Ciara didn't return it.
"I can't play with you anymore, Remus."
His face fell. "Why not?"
"Mommy and Daddy said that you're dangerous. That I should play with Joyce and Thomas instead."
"No! I - I'm..."
"Goodbye, Remus."
"No, not really," ten-year-old Remus replied quietly, gaze dropping to his hands. August nodded knowingly.
"That's okay. It's hard for people like us to make friends," Chris empathised with the boy. A collective silence fell over the group.
"But you can always make friends here, with us." August picked up the conversation again hastily, smiling at Remus. He turned to a more elderly woman, who appeared to be the oldest of the group. "Say Kathleen, have you made much progress with your recipes?"
Kathleen smiled appreciatively at the man, her greying curls bouncing as she nodded. "Have you tried the cookies?" she asked hoarsely, leaning in to pick up the plate on the table and lift it up. "Remus, would you like to try one?"
Thinking it rude to refuse, the boy gingerly grabbed one and nibbled on it curiously as Kathleen rattled off the ingredients.
"There's actually a small amount of aconite in there too!" she added cheerfully. "It's also known as wolf's bane, highly poisonous. I did add some charcoal as well, which should help you stomach it-"
Remus couldn't help but spit out the tiny bite he had taken, in reaction to both the words 'highly poisonous' and the horrendous taste. Hope was on her feet at the same time as Leah, both making their way towards him quickly. Hope patted him on the back worriedly, muttering something about crazy women and poisoned food, while Leah produced a chocolate bar from her jacket.
"Here," she mumbled blankly, offering it to him. "It'll take away the taste. You're not the first to cough up Kathleen's baking."
Remus nodded his gratitude, and as his mother and the teen returned to their seats, he mouthed a guilty "thank you" to Kathleen, who suddenly appeared quite downcast. He was thankful she had offered him anything, being frank.
Five-year-old Remus, lonely and friendless, sat quiet in the waiting room of St Mungo's as he listened to his parents desperately argue their case to a flustered Healer.
"Listen, please, there's got to be something you can do for him, anything!" Hope was pleading, her voice muffled behind closed doors.
"Mr and Mrs Lupin, I'm afraid his condition is incurable. We can't treat him here."
There was a slamming of a fist on a desk. "Damn it! He's five years old, you have to have something you can give him. Take the edge off of the pain during his transformations, calm his wolf form, something?!" Lyall shouted, his temper lost.
The Healer was quick to lose her own cool in response. "I'm telling you, we won't treat his kind here!" she yelled, and her regret was evident in the sudden silence that followed. Then mumbling. The door opened, and his parents walked out. It closed behind them.
Remus pretended that he hadn't heard the conversation, aware that his parents were upset. He watched instead as a different Healer presented a lollipop to the boy sitting on the other side of the room, "you've been so good, waiting by yourself all that time!"
"Let's go, Remus," Hope said, an edge to her tone. Her face looked tired.
"Why does he get a lollipop?" Remus asked, before he realised that he had spoken aloud. He glanced warily to his parents. "Why not me?"
Neither of them responded. Lyall took his hand in his and gently stood him up out of his chair and walked him towards the exit door.
"Why don't I get a lollipop?" Remus pressed, stressing now, because his parents were still tense and unhappy - was it his fault? Why didn't he get a lollipop?
"Let's go, Remus," Hope repeated with more force. When they were leaving the building it clicked. And Remus felt a now familiar sadness washing over him.
"I'm sorry that I'm not the son you wanted," he whispered. They didn't hear him over the city traffic.
"And decent jobs are so hard to come by," another man was lamenting. "I can hardly earn a living. Thank Merlin for my sister's support. I'd be homeless for sure without her."
"Maybe we could organise a fundraiser?" August suggested, and the sudden shine in his eyes took Remus off guard. These people were so desperate, yet so hopeful - it was upsetting to sit through.
"Don't be ridiculous," painted-nails lady said scornfully. "Nobody would donate money to werewolves."
And just like that, the glimmer of hope was gone. Several people slumped lower into their bean bags.
Thirty-year-old Remus Lupin was desperate for a job. He looked worse than he'd ever been. He lived in a near-derelict cottage as far away from people as he could get. His robes were worn, his face grim and dirty and scarred-
Remus pushed the thought forcefully from his mind, and bit into the chocolate bar.
"Next full moon is in two weeks," August piped up after a moment. "So we won't be meeting then, obviously. Can't risk staying too late."
"Oh, right!" someone else chimed in. "Thought I'd let you guys know - I tried taking a shi-" her eyes darted to Remus as she paused, "a crap tonne of painkillers right as I felt the transformation coming on, and... it was useless. I was still destructive and it still hurt like a mother... a mother."
"Dang," Chris mumbled, "I was going to try that. Got my hands on some powerful Muggle tablets I was going to use."
Remus felt awful, sitting in his bean bag with his knees pulled to his chest. He couldn't bear listening to the group anymore. There were no solutions to their problems, to his problems. Their conversations were just a constant reminder of how bad he had it, how bad it was going to get, how he would one day be just as desperate and beaten up and depressed.
"How do you stand it?" The question burst from his mouth before he could stop it. Even Hope looked surprised. "Knowing that there'll never be a cure, that we're all doomed to have the hardest lives ever? How do you live with yourselves?"
August, too, was caught off guard by the question, and busied himself with adjusting the way his glasses lay on the bridge of his nose while his muscles were still tense. Then he softened, as the group was turning to him for answers, and addressed Remus with the smallest of smiles. "Because we have to. We have no other options."
Remus stood up, and Hope copied his actions, maternal senses kicking into action. He grabbed a hold of her hand despite the onlookers, and left the room.
A/N: New format! And more angst #noregrets
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY (CHALLENGES & ASSIGNMENTS)
Assignment #2: Geography Task 12: Write about someone/a group of people who is/are isolated
Chocolate Frog Cards Club: Firenze (Silver): Write about someone who doesn't fit in
Dragon Breeding Club: Angelica the Peruvian Vipertooth
Gobstones Club: Green Stone: (theme) Regret; Accuracy: (au) Support Group; Power: (item) Book; Technique: (food) Cookies
Seasonal Challenges: Days of the Year: Moon Day: Write about Remus Lupin; Colour Prompts: Blue-Green; Birthstones: Onyx: (dialogue) "I'm sorry that I'm not the son you wanted."; Shay's Musical Challenge: Fun Home: Write about discovering more about someone's past; Gryffindor Themed Prompts: Characters (Easy): Remus Lupin
Insane House Challenge: 593: (creature) Werewolf
Writing Club: Disney Challenge: Themes: Isolation: Write about someone feeling isolated; Amber's Attic: Tattoos: Butterfly: Write about a transformation; Count Your Buttons: (object) Lollipop, (word) Awkward; Lyric Alley: I've learned to be ashamed of all my scars; Ami's Audo Admirations: Top 40 Singles: Write a fic where the main theme is not about romance; Bex's Bazaar: Dumbo: Write about someone being shunned for being different
CAMP POTTER
Ice-Cream Making Station: Flavours: Vanilla: (character) Remus Lupin