Disclaimer- This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by J. K. Rowling. I do not claim any ownership over any characters or the world of Harry Potter. The story I tell here is not part of J.K. Rowling's story canon (which is far better than anything I could write). I'm only borrowing some of her characters to practice fiction writing. The fanfiction story of Harry Lupin is for entertainment only, I will make no money off of it, and is not part of the official story line.
AN: My daughter and amateur (but talented) editor is off to her third year of college and hasn't had time to proofread some of my backlogged chapters. I whipped this out over an afternoon watching the rain, just so I had something productive to show for the weekend. It hasn't been nitpicked and is a bit rough.
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Remus Lupin turned the collar of his coat up as he observed Number 4 Privet Drive. It was a cold and dreary day. The grey clouds were dropping rain by the bucket loads. The tree he had concealed himself behind provided little protection from the wet and cold.
He wondered if he was doing the right thing, trying to catch sight of Harry. It had been three years since the Potters passed. He'd spent most of that time out of the country, traveling and studying, trying to forget the war, mourning the dead.
Now that he was back, he'd wanted to check on Harry. Though Dumbledore had refused to disclose Harry's location citing security concerns, it took only a few days for Remus to track him down. For all of his power, the Grand Sorcerer was shockingly ignorant of the information that could be found in a muggle phonebook.
While Dumbledore had assured him that Harry was well looked after, he felt compelled to see the boy despite those assurances. Just a glimpse, so he could soothe the ache in his heart when he thought of James and Lily. He owed it to them to at least check on the boy.
The weather had conspired against him. While children might roam and play outside on sunny days, they certainly wouldn't do it on a miserable day such as today. He wouldn't catch sight of Harry just standing here, he mused.
He checked the horizon. The sun would be going down soon, not that much of it was visible this dreary day. Good manners dictated that if he were to approach the Dursleys that he do so before they sat down for their evening meal.
Remus stepped off the curb, avoiding a water puddle as he did so. He didn't think the wards would deny him entry. From what his senses could detect, they were primarily intent based, with some monitoring wards as back up. The furthest thing from his thoughts was any desire to harm Harry. Just the opposite was true. He just wanted to see his friends' child safe, happy and loved.
Harry Potter was the closest family Remus had left. Once the pack included all four Marauders. Then Lily had joined and Harry had been born. Life had been good then. War, betrayal and murder had ended the too few golden years the pack had enjoyed.
Now it was just Remus and Harry. He refused to consider the traitor rotting in Azkaban as part of the pack. The sooner the dementors did their work the better as far as he was concerned.
He stood in front of the Dursleys' door. He was sopping wet. His formerly respectable suit, purchased second hand, worn and frayed, hung limply off his narrow frame. He hesitated.
He knew he wouldn't make the good impression he'd hoped he would have, before being drenched by the rain. He also knew he'd have difficulty gathering his courage to visit again if he didn't act now.
He squared his shoulders and resolutely knocked on the door before him three times. He ran his hand through his thinning hair once more in a futile effort to remove any excess moisture. He turned his collar back down hoping to restore some of his lost respectability.
The door opened. A very large, very obese man with a walrus mustache stood before him. "Yes?" Vernon Dursley growled, clearly not in a good temper.
Remus breathed deeply. Dursley had gained a lot of weight since he'd seen him at James and Lily's wedding.
"Mr. Dursley, I'm sure that you don't remember me. My name is Remus Lupin. We met at your sister in law's wedding. I was hoping to visit with Harry…" his voice trailed off as his nose caught a scent he did not expect to encounter in a home ensconced in an upper middle income neighborhood like Little Whinging. The smell of blood, urine and feces. All emanating from a scent he'd long associated with the son of his best friends.
Some of the more progressive wizards thought that werewolves only differed from normal wizards during the night of the full moon. Though more enlightened than most of their brethren, they were wrong.
The wolf was always present, lurking beneath the surface. While only the full moon would induce a transformation into savage, uncontrollable killing machines, the murderous wolf's instincts and senses were always there; watching, waiting.
Remus had spent his life ignoring the rabid wolf's near constant desire to attack, maim, and kill. But it was almost impossible to ignore his wolf's senses.
Prey was in the Dursley residence. An injured young one; bleeding, hurt, vulnerable. Weak and ripe for the taking. His pack's only cub. The thought that his cub may have been reduced to mere prey enraged the wolf.
He'd long learned to compartmentalize the wolf's baying for mayhem, pushing it to the back of his mind. He shrugged it off now with an ease borne of long practice. But he could not ignore what the wolf's nose was telling him. He didn't miss the widening of Dursley's eyes or the sudden paling of his face as his blood retreated deeper into his body.
Dursley anticipated pain. He anticipated violence. He was afraid.
Remus was not at all surprised when the fat man tried to close the door on his face as he blustered, "I won't have your kind disturbing my family. Off with you!"
Remus didn't even realize it when his arm shot out, the palm of his hand striking the door hard. The force of his strike slammed the door back into Dursley, causing the much heavier man to stumble backward. Remus stepped into the house, growling.
"Where's Harry?" he snarled, as he closed the distance between himself and the larger man, aggressively invading his personal space. His cub was hurt. The wolf had never been so close to the surface on a moonless night. It welcomed the incipient violence.
So did Remus, for the first time in years.
"He's not here," Vernon mumbled frantically as he continued to retreat. Remus pushed forward, his senses screaming that he was lying. The house door swung shut behind him.
He lashed out, his left hand grasping Dursley's shirt as he slammed him into the entry way wall. The force of impact cracked the paint and drywall behind him. Dursley sagged down as his knees grew weak. Remus barely noticed the sudden weight, such was his rage.
His wand fell into his hand. Dursley whimpered at the sight of it. Remus was pleased to see the prey's fear, to smell it, to almost taste it. The wolf's senses nearly made him shiver in ecstasy, even as he snarled, baring his teeth at the terrified, quivering thing that was trapped in his grasp.
Though the wolf was rising, his human mind was still ascendant, if barely. He made a quick and precise movement, muttering "Homenum Revelio."
Four blue glowing balls of lights shot out of his wand. One streaked toward his quivering prey, briefly illuminating the fat man- the wolf salivated at the thought of the succulent meat he could rip from its carcass- in its glow. Three shot down the hallway, two continuing into the kitchen while the last passed through a cupboard door under the stairs.
His human mind reasserted itself. He dropped Dursley and ignored the man as he fell bonelessly to the floor. His eyes were locked on the small cupboard door. The scent of wounded prey- the wolf growled in denial; pack was not prey- was emanating from that door. His steps were mechanical as he moved toward it.
"What are you doing?" a high pitched voice screeched. Remus' head whipped around, his eyes locking on a tall, thin, horse faced woman. Petunia, he recognized. A young boy, blond and fat, stood fearfully behind her.
He smiled, a cruel, twisted thing. The wolf wanted to howl and for the first time in a long time he had difficulty disagreeing with it.
He laughed as Petunia stepped back in shock and fear, the fat child clutching her skirt. His fingers caressed his wand as gazed at her scornfully, ignoring the boy. He wasn't Harry.
The smell of blood, feces and urine from the cupboard became overwhelming as he reached the cupboard door. Petunia's eyes darted toward the door, her face pale and lips trembling.
"I came to see Harry. I want to see him now." His wand dropped to his side as his other hand reached out to grasp the latch on the cupboard door. "What will I find when I open this door, Petunia Dursley?"
The wolf delighted in the scent of intense fear wafting off her body. The scent coming from the boy was more confusion than fear. A stupid piglet then.
He pushed their fear from his mind. All that mattered was Harry.
He pretended not to notice as Vernon Dursley stood behind him. The man was a lumbering ox. His effort at stealth, laughable.
He hoped they gave him a reason to hurt them, to tear and rip and feast. The wolf's nose was giving him all the reason he needed to let it slip its chains.
He opened the door. The wolf hadn't lied.
A small, too frail boy blinked as light suddenly invaded the cramped dark place. The boy raised a slender arm in a failed effort to block the light from overly sensitive eyes. He was crawling away from the open door, in an effort to seek refuge in what little space remained in the cupboard. He didn't have much room to maneuver as the wall of the cupboard was stacked high with cleaning supplies, paints and other chemicals.
He was covered in filth. He was naked except for a pair of foul underwear, much too large for the boy. His ribs were prominently displayed. Red marks criss crossed his torso.
He was sitting on an equally filthy crib mattress. A ratty, soiled blanket was crumpled on the bed. A tattered, abused stuffed animal, a black dog, rested on his lap. Remus recognized it as the first birthday gift the traitor had given to Harry. It was torn, it's stuffing leaking out.
The boy's hair was dark and messy, his eyes bright and green. James' hair and Lily's eyes. Tears poured from his eyes as he remembered his friends and thought of the grief they'd experience if they knew how badly he'd failed their son.
The boy looked malnourished, his skin too pale, almost luminescent. His forehead was marred by a jagged, red scar which oozed blood. One of his arms- far too skinny, nothing but skin and bone- was unnaturally twisted. Broken, Remus realized.
He knelt down before Harry, holding his hand out low to the boy. "Harry, my name is Remus Lupin. I'm a friend of your parents." His heart broke when the boy pressed himself further against the shelves, obviously fearful as he whimpered.
His ears perked up. Vernon was trying to be stealthily. It was a futile effort. His breathing and the shifting in the floorboards caused by his excessive weight might as well have been an alarm to a werewolf's ears.
For a second, he was tempted to let the obese muggle try to attack him. He welcomed the opportunity to inflict pain on one of Harry's abusers. But a look at the boy convinced him that violence would only serve to further terrorize Harry. The boy had suffered enough.
He idly flicked his wand in Vernon's direction and quietly muttered, "Petrificus Totalus."
He saw Harry's eyes widened when a white light shot from his wand. A moment later, Vernon Dursley came crashing down, his body locked rigid by the Full Body-Bind Curse. The paralyzed man's walrus-like mustache brushed up against Remus' shoe.
"What have you done!?" Petunia screamed as she rushed to her fallen husband's side. Her portly son followed quickly behind her, joining in his mother's wailing.
Remus enjoyed their grief, though the wolf was not satisfied. The wolf wanted blood. Remus struggled to control its baying.
More importantly, Harry's eyes were welling up in tears, the screaming and crying was obviously distressing him. Why he'd care about his abusive relatives was beyond Remus. But this was his cub. Anything that hurt Harry had to be done away with.
He gave two quick flicks of his wand. This time he did not even bother to mutter the curse. Petunia and the Dursleys' child both hit the ground, their bodies as rigid as Vernon's.
He didn't wait for the boy's permission. He was in pain. Remus hoped relieving that pain would go a long way to winning his trust. "Brackium Emendo," he stated firmly, focusing his intent on setting Harry's broken arm.
While he knew the basics of healing magic, as would any werewolf with a wand or wizard with a mastery in defense, Remus was no healer. He knew was not a good substitute for a medi-witch or healer, but he was the only person on hand to help Harry.
To his relief, the bulging discoloration on Harry's arm, the point of the fracture, stretched and straightened. Since he didn't trust his spell to have fully corrected the problem, he followed up with a "Ferula," the Bandaging Charm. White strips of cloth shot from his wand, securely wrapping and reinforcing the point of the break. It would have to do until he could get the boy to an actual healer.
After that he muttered a dozen "Episkeys," while running his wand over Harry's many welts, scrapes and bruises. The minor healing charm was nowhere near enough to fix all the boy's ailments, but it did help. Slowly, Harry's pain filled visage eased. Remus decided to try again.
"Harry, I'm a friend of your parents." He again stretched out his hand to the boy.
The boy looked at his hand, distrust and hope warring within his eyes. Remus didn't blame him. It was obvious the adults in his life had failed him time and again. Like that, a decision was made.
"I can take you from this place. Take you somewhere better." His hand remained outstretched, as steady as a rock.
Still the boy did not move. Remus wouldn't allow himself to grow frustrated. He'd learned the value of patience.
The wolf was another story. It was baying in his mind, clawing at his barriers, desperate to break free. It almost did. But enough of the wolf entered his mind and he realized that it wasn't trying to hunt and kill, not yet, at least. It was trying to communicate with him.
Food.
"I can take you to get something to eat, Harry" he cajoled, listening to his inner wolf for once. In hindsight it was obvious the boy was starving. "A nice hot dinner."
"I don't know who Harry is," the boy said with fear in his voice and hope in his eyes. "My name is Freak." He hesitated; fear warring with hope. Hope won, if only barely. "But I would like dinner."
And just like that, the boy took his hand. A moment later, Remus was standing, Harry in his arms. For an almost five year old, he was far too light.
Freak. He turned the word over in his mind. The boy wasn't a freak, but he knew who was.
"I'm taking Harry," he said, his teeth exposed and his mouth twisted in a feral grin. "But I'll be back. A day, a year, a decade, I'll be back. And when I return, I will hunt and you will die."
He said those words to placate the wolf. A part of him knew he was doing it for himself also, as for once man and wolf united in purpose. But he tried not to dwell on it too deeply, though he knew he meant every word he uttered.
He ignored the fear rolling in their eyes as he stepped over their paralyzed bodies. He would be back and they would pay. But first, he needed to get Harry to safety.
"Do you like pizza, Harry?" he asked, ignoring the drizzle as he held the small boy's hand. While his every instinct was to run, something the wolf agreed with, Harry needed a meal. A promise was a promise, after all, especially to a starving boy.
He noticed Harry nod hesitantly. Good enough, he decided.
A wave of his wand transformed Harry's clothes into something that looked somewhat respectable. Taking Harry into his arms again, he apparated them to the first pizza chain that came to mind.
Harry looked ill when they arrived in the restaurant's back alley. Not everyone did well with apparition, especially small children. But the boy's upset vanished and his eyes grew large when he saw the large neon sign out front.
Moments later, Remus didn't know if the small boy had been more amazed by the magic occurring before his very eyes, or the cheese pizza that had been placed before him. From Harry's perspective, both were miracles, he suspected.
He took the smallest slice, never having been one to eat much, to the wolf's great dismay. The need to stay fast, and therefore slim, and lack of finances had both conspired to ensure that his portions were always small. But he enjoyed watching Harry's efforts to inhale his meal.
Watching Harry, a small smile on his face, he turned his thoughts to deciding what to do next. Though he would do it again, but now that he had a chance to collect his breath he knew his life was about to go pear shaped.
He'd taken Harry Potter. He wasn't an idiot. He knew he'd be hunted. A werewolf kidnapping the Boy Who Lived would not go unchallenged.
As a werewolf, he was classified as a dark creature. Every adult wizard and witch had nightmares that a werewolf would abduct and infect their child.
If they caught him, he'd be executed. There would be no mercy.
Worse, Dumbledore- Liar! Traitor! the wolf howled- would return Harry to his family. Remus almost sneered at the word. Those freaks were no family to Harry. He was half tempted to go back and kill them immediately, to prevent any possibility of Harry being forced back into their care. A quick Fiendfyre- no need to control it, just cast and run- and the Dursleys, and half of Little Whinging, would be no more.
He resisted the impulse. Not for the first time today, the wolf agreed. It was time for flight, not fight. They needed to get out of England. Every moment counted.
How much time he'd have to get out of the country was the big unknown. How quickly would Dumbledore detect that Harry had left the wards of Privet Drive? Would he involve the Aurors?
Not much escaped the notice of his former Headmaster. If he were a betting man, Dumbledore would know something was wrong the second Harry had left the Little Whinging area. That meant the clock was already ticking.
If Dumbledore reached out to the Order, Remus knew they'd be slow to react. While zealous, they tended to dither unless told exactly what to do. As his former Headmaster liked to consider a problem from all angles before issuing orders, that meant he'd have days to make his escape.
But if he chose to contact the Aurors, the manhunt would begin immediately. And despite their much diminished reputation for failing to deal with You Know Who, they were competent.
If so, he would have been lucky to escape their notice for a day. Less, if they alerted the general public to be on the lookout.
He could easily visualize the hysterical headlines which would dominate the Prophet's front page. Every witch and wizard, light or dark, would be searching for their lost savior. And the dark creature who had kidnapped him. The odds of a successful escape with Harry would plummet if the Headmaster involved the authorities.
Luckily, Remus had spent years slipping over borders undetected, both for the Order during the war and later for his own purposes. He could do this.
"Ready, Harry?" he asked, noticing the boy had somehow managed to put away three slices of pizza. He looked distinctly uncomfortable.
The boy nodded again, not making eye contact and looking down. "Yes, sir."
The wolf was growling again. The boy's behaviors were submissive. The child of his alphas should not behave so.
Remus pushed the wolf back down. It had served its purpose. It was only a distraction now.
"My name is Remus Lupin, Harry," he replied as kindly as he could. "You can call me Remus. I was your dad's best friend."
Harry hesitated, still looking down, his too small body dwarfed by the booth he sat in. "Uncle Vernon says my mom and dad were no good drunks who were killed in a car crash." The boy was wringing his hands. "They didn't have any friends, just like me, because they were worthless and didn't deserve them."
Remus initially didn't notice as his fingernails lengthened, thickened, sharpened to a razor point, as they half transformed into claws. Harry's flinch alerted him to the problem. He glanced down, surprised to see that he'd dug four parallel furrows into the wood of their table.
He breathed deeply, centering his mind, trying to stay calm for Harry's sake. But visiting the Dursleys sooner, not later, was becoming a more desirable option with every passing moment.
"Your parents were not drunks and they weren't killed in a car accident, Harry," he heard himself say, distantly as if through a long tunnel. "They were brilliant. Two of the strongest magic users I've ever encountered." He saw the boy's eyes widen at the word 'magic'. "More importantly, they loved you with all their heart and soul."
He decided not to mention their murder just yet. The boy had suffered enough. Besides, he wasn't sure exactly what occurred.
He'd long suspected that James and Lily had laid a trap for He Who Must Not Be Named powered by their deaths. He'd encountered some references in the older, fragmented manuscripts to such things in his travels. He'd been exchanging letters with Lily for months and her questions had been probing, her comments insightful.
Remus knew he'd been the brains among the Marauders, just as Prongs had been the leader, the traitor the muscle, and poor, pathetic Wormtail the information collector. His ten NEWTs rivaled Lily's. At least on paper.
In reality, his sharing the top spot in class standings with Lily had been a lie. Lily had been a towering genius, an actual, living, breathing force of nature, when she turned her full attention to a problem. In their last few years at Hogwarts, she'd already been branching out, engaged in self study in subjects long since dropped from the curriculum.
Thinking back, she must have connected some of the missing dots and figured out how to turn the Killing Curse back on You Know Who. And for the life of him, he couldn't figure out how she'd done it.
Those thoughts were for another time. Harry looked as if he were gathering the courage to speak.
"Magic isn't real," he said hesitantly, his eyes everywhere but looking at Remus. "Uncle Vernon says I'm a freak, which is why freaky things happen to me."
For once the wolf was quiescent, recognizing its cub needed the patience that the human could provide, not the slathering violence of a rabid wolf. It helped that human and wolf were in agreement when it came to the Dursleys' ultimate fate.
"You are no freak, Harry," Remus replied slowly. "You are a good boy who happens to be a wizard. Like me. Like your parents."
The boy's eyes were filled with doubt as they flicked upwards momentarily before falling. The brilliant green orbs were almost mesmerizing, framed as they were by his pale and wane face.
He smiled softly. "You'll have to trust me on this, Harry. You'll be a powerful wizard someday, just like your parents. But until then, we need to get going so we're not caught and you're made to return to your aunt and uncle's."
The messy hair boy, far too frail and small, grew even whiter. "I'd rather stay with you, sir," he volunteered, still looking at the ground. "I don't think my family likes me." Harry seemed on the verge of tears as he spoke.
"Who cares what they think?" Remus said, trying and failing to inject humor into his voice. "I want you. And as long as you want me to take care of you, I will."
Remus picked up Harry again, ignoring the boy's tears, falling in either relief or shame, he didn't know which. He also ignored his too hard belly pressed into the side of his torso. He exited the pizza parlor and with a spin of his heel, he Apparated them to Felixstowe. That was a mistake.
He'd forgotten that Harry and apparition did not mix. The boy violently heaved, emptying his stomach. Remus stood there in shock for a second, his clothing covered in vomit, before he let the boy down.
"I'm sorry!" whimpered the boy, as he fell to the ground and covered himself up. He was clearly expecting to be beaten.
He crouched down, trying to get eye level with the boy. "It's okay, Harry." He placed a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. He wanted to frown as it was far too narrow and bony, but that would cause him to pull back further. He forced himself to smile. "It happens. My stomach was also upset the first few times I apparated."
Harry didn't look reassured, but the trembling stopped. That was something at least.
He took out his wand. "Watch."
He moved his wand purposefully and slowly, so Harry could follow the motion. The boy's eyes were locked on the wand's point, clearing remembering the magic that had been cast at the Dursleys. Once he was sure he had his attention, he carefully enunciated, "Apstergeo."
The blue light of the spell worked its way from the top of Remus' head to the soles of his shoes. The contents of Harry's stomach were trapped and collected by the light, lifting it away and then vanishing it into the ether. In a handful of seconds, Remus' suit was as clean as it had ever been.
Other than being soaked by the rain. The biting cold reminded him that if he was feeling the cold, it must be even worse for the small boy who was looking at him with eyes wide with amazement.
He held out his hand again. "I would never hurt you, Harry," he promised. "But we need to leave now." He gestured to the harbor filled with cargo ships. "We need to get out of the country, if we're to avoid those who would return you to the Dursleys."
His heart leapt when the too cautious boy- oh, James and Lily, what would you say if you could see your son- stood once more and placed his too small hand in his with a tremulous smile.
As they walked toward the container ships, he cast a series of charms to keep muggle eyes from them. He had often used the hulking vessels to pass between borders, each being so large that stowing away and avoiding the crew was child's play for a wizard with a wand. When he found one he liked, he searched among its stacked containers, until he found one that had sufficient space for he and Harry to make themselves comfortable.
Remus prided himself in his analytical thought, his calm reasoning. His taking Harry had been thoughtless, impulsive even. He wasn't sure what to do next and needed time to sort through his options.
He sent a quick prayer toward the memory of his friends, as the boy fell into an exhausted sleep pressed against his side. 'James, Lily, I don't know where we're going from here. But I do know one thing. I will do everything in my power to see him live the life you wanted for him. Even if it kills me.'
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AN: This has the possibility of being more in the future, but for now I'll leave it as a short story of how Remus did what he should have done in canon and checked in on Harry.
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