A/N: Well first of all, I'm obviously not J.K. Rowling. All the characters and such rightfully belong to her. Secondly, the Pottermore update on Remus Lupin effectively rendered my first fan fiction AU, and if there's one thing that irks me about fan fiction, it's unintentionally being AU. So, I'm starting a new story to perk me back up. Hope y'all enjoy it.

New Beginnings

Prologue

"But I want to go out and play in the yard."

"I know honey, but you can't. Not until you're feeling better." Hope pressed the back of her hand to her son's forehead.

"I feel fine mum." Remus replied shortly, flinching away from the touch. "I want to go outside."

"I'm sorry Remus, but you can't." Remus felt frustration welling up inside of him.

"Why not!?" Much to his dismay, tears began forming in his eyes. He could feel the way the moon was pulling on his bones, he was tired, and he just wanted to sit in the yard for a few minutes.

"Mrs. Robson noticed when you were sick last month, if she sees you now… It'll raise too many questions."

"But it's not fair!" He moaned and the tears began. The more he cried the more furious he became with himself. He was nine years old, much too old to be crying. But now that he'd started, he couldn't stop: months of frustration, isolation, and fear were all coming together and it was too much to bear.

"Oh Remus…" Hope reached out to grab her son's hand in an effort to soothe him, but the gesture only lit a fire in his chest.

"It's not fair!" He repeated angrily.

"I know it's not fair, love. But you know why you can't go outside now." She began to pull Remus into a hug but he tried to jerk away, out of instinct she held his hand tighter.

"Let go!" He shouted, he was still crying though and Hope wasn't going to release him until he stopped.

"Not until you calm down." She said more firmly.

"LET GO!" he cried again, he tried to squirm out of her grasp, but Hope only tightened her grip more.

"Remus! Stop it! I said not until you calm down!" She was struggling to hold him; he was much stronger than any nine year old boy should be.

Suddenly Remus let out a vicious snarl as something red, hot, and furious squeezed his mind. His mother gasped. One minute he was trying to break out of her iron-like grip, the next, he was free and standing half way across the room, shaking with rage.

"Remus…" Her voice was so surprised and sad, it felt like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over his head and the anger disappeared instantly.

It took a moment for him to register that his mother was clutching her forearm: blood was beginning to seep between her fingers. The metallic scent washed over him and for one terrible moment it made his mouth water.

The moment passed and horror overwhelmed him. He'd hurt his mother. He'd hurt his mother and some small part of him had liked it. The thought staggered him and he took a shaky step back.

"I'm sorry," he choked. "I'm sorry. I-I-I didn't mean to…" He couldn't breathe, he was suffocating and no matter how hard he gasped it felt as though none of the air was making it into his lungs.

Hope seemed to come out of her daze and her expression became worried and sympathetic.

"Oh Remus, I know you didn't mean to. It was just an accident." She took a tentative step towards him but her son backed up further until he was pressed against the wall.

"Don't come near me!" He snapped and his mother froze. He could hear the wolf howling in his mind and the sound was so deafening he couldn't think clearly. Only one coherent thought made it to surface: he'd hurt his mother—badly enough that she was bleeding.

"I'm sorry!" He rasped; it felt like they were the only words he knew anymore, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Hope watched her son warily. Blood was now running down her arm and dripping off of her elbow and onto the floor.

"It's okay Remus, really it is. It's just a scratch." Yet even as she reassured him, Remus could smell the fear and pain radiating from her. He threw his hands into his hair and began tugging; desperately hoping it would help him clear his thoughts. He slid down the wall and curled into a ball on the floor—why couldn't he catch his breath?

"I'm so sorry…" he mumbled into his knees miserably.

Hours later, Remus lay on his bed staring numbly out the window. Moonlight stung his eyes and reminded him of the agony that awaited him tomorrow night.

I deserve it, he thought bitterly.

Hope had had to bandage the scratches and clean up the blood before Remus would allow her to approach him and even then it had taken the better part of an hour, three large glasses of water, and countless reassurances to calm him down.

Remus couldn't feel anything anymore, except for the ache that was deep in his muscles and bones. All of his emotions had been spent.

He was vaguely aware of the front door opening and closing and of his father's obliviously cheerful greeting. There was a moment of silence and then:

"What happened?"

"Remus…"

"Remus did this!?" The approaching full moon had sharpened his hearing and he could make out every word of his parents' conversation.

"It was an accident Lyall."

"An accident!?" His father nearly shouted, Remus heard his mother shush him and Lyall lowered his voice—not that it made any difference, "Hope, I can't heal these…"

"I know—"

"They're going to scar." He interrupted.

"I know that, and it's alright."

"How is that alright?" His father snapped, but before his mother could respond, Lyall added in a much softer voice, "How could Remus do this to you?"

"He didn't mean to." His father scoffed but she continued on, "You weren't there, you didn't see him. I've never seen him like that. He was so worked up… He couldn't help it." She sounded so sad and so defeated that Remus screwed his eyes shut and buried his face into his pillow.

"But he hurt you…" The disappointment in his father's voice was almost worse than the pity in his mother's.

"And it took an hour to calm him. Once he realized what he'd done, he completely broke down. Please dear, just leave it alone. It won't do any good to upset him more."

"I know, but we can't go on like this. I can't keep you safe when I'm not here…" Remus felt his stomach tie itself into knots. Did his father really believe he was too dangerous to be at home alone with his mother?

"Honestly Lyall, you're acting as if I need to be protected from my own son."

"He's getting harder to control." He said bluntly.

"What do you mean?"

"When he was little it was easier, a few silencing charms, a locking spell—that was all it took… But now… Now… Well you saw what he did to the door last month."

"But you can fix the door."

"It's not like it's going to get easier Hope. Yes, I can fix the door and the windows, but the bigger he gets the more destructive he becomes. How much longer will it be until he's strong enough to break through my barrier spells? How much longer until the bites and scratches he gives himself become life threatening? Every month it just gets worse and worse. I'm not a healer and I can only buy so many blood replenishing potions before people become suspicious. And now he's hurt you, I know it was an accident this time, but what if it happens again?"

"It won't happen again." Hope's voice was barely above a whisper, but Remus could still hear how shaky it was. His father gave a slightly hysterical laugh, "It won't" she repeated, sounding more certain this time.

It won't happen again, Remus silently agreed.

"But what will we do if it does?"

"Then we'll do what we've always done: handle it the best we can when and if it happens."

Remus got out of bed on trembling legs and stumbled into the bathroom. As quietly as possible, he began rummaging through the drawers. He got to the last drawer and still hadn't found what he was looking for, huffing in frustration he stood up and was about to go back to his room when he spotted the nail cutters beside the sink.

Odd, he thought, those weren't there when I came in.

Remus grabbed them and hastily retreated back to his room, locking the door behind him. He sat down on the edge of his bed and began clipping his nails—he cut them so short that they bled and throbbed. He pressed each fingertip into his palm, memorizing the white hot pain it caused. He pressed harder and harder until his arms were shaking.

When he didn't think he could take the pain anymore, he made a promise to himself. He wasn't going to disobey his parents again. He wasn't going to fight to go outside or to be included on his mother's outings. And he wasn't going to complain about feeling lonely ever again. His parents kept him hidden away for a very good reason: he was dangerous.

Of course, they'd never say that. Every time they moved to a new town they'd tell Remus it was because people were too narrow-minded to understand, but he was beginning to realize that the problem wasn't everyone else, it was him.

In spite of the way his fingers stung, Remus eventually fell into an uneasy sleep. That night he dreamt he was the wolf and that he managed to break open his bedroom door before running down his mother—tearing her to shreds while she screamed and begged for him to stop.