Chain of Being: Chapter 3

Vis stopped running ten minutes later after realizing he had ran the full mile from Remus' house to town. He wasn't even out of breath. He raked a hand through his hair, slightly damp with sweat. How the hell did he run the mile? He nearly failed gym last year, so- Vis frowned. "Right…the wolf…" Vis found the correct street to take to his house and walked the rest of the way. The wolf. It was always the wolf.  His enhanced sense of smell: the wolf. His "allergy" to silver: the wolf. His quick temper: the wolf. The slashes and abrasions that covered his body the morning after the full moon: the wolf. His alienation from humanity: the wolf.

            He wasn't human anymore and he'd never be one ever again. Vis stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. How many times had that mantra run through his head in the past two months? How many times did it run through his mum's mind? She of all people didn't deserve a freak son.

            Vis kicked a chunk of rock on the sidewalk. No, he wasn't a freak. At least, if he was, he wasn't alone. That man, Lupin, seemed to know what he was doing. At least the man proved his life expectancy wrong. He had to be at least thirty-five. He probably knew a lot more about his…their…condition, than his mum, or the stupid werewolf containment crew that refused to tell him a thing. He was a wizard too. A full-fledged wizard…who was also a werewolf.

            Vis turned the corner of his block. He didn't have any nagging vibes from the guy. Like the ones he got from Trenor. He shivered. Nothing compared with the vibes he got from him.

            Lupin couldn't' be a bad guy. He scared off the Trenor and his stooges. He healed his burns. Lupin even taught him a thing or two about being a werewolf, which was two more than what he knew in the beginning. Vis pulled his keys from his pocket as he turned up the stone walkway of his lawn. Maybe if he hung around Lupin a bit more, he'd learn something. Lupin did say he could ask questions. Maybe he could tutor him. 

            Vis shoved his key into the lock of the front door. It was centered in the middle of a brass doorknob. Vis scowled as he jiggled the aluminum key. The lock always jammed halfway through a turn. They used to have this fancy looking silver plated knob and lock plate. The little diamond stained window used to be trimmed with a silver border with a matching silver doorknocker. Vis yanked his key out of the lock. "Ah bugger," he muttered. It was bent. His mum had it taken off after he was bitten and installed the first lock at hand.

Vis pushed the door open. The smell of something pasta-like cooking in the kitchen caught his attention. He crossed the living room and swung the corner into the kitchen. A woman in her mid-thirties sat upon a counter stool with her ankles crossed at its base. She held a cookbook in one hand and a long wooden spoon in the other.

            Vis bee-lined to the stove and lifted the lid. Yum, spaghetti. He ducked his head a bit to check the oven for garlic bread. "I can eat garlic, right?"

            Devra Wane gave a start, dropping the cookbook. She slapped a hand over her heart. "Oh! I didn't hear you come in."

Vis rolled his eyes, "Honestly mum…" He scooped up the cookbook and tossed it on top of the counter.

"Honestly Vis," echoed Devra. "I swear you're more stealthy each day. I doubt you notice it."

"Or maybe you're just becoming deaf," countered Vis. It could be true; he wasn't as awkward as he was before he became a werewolf. Of course, he wasn't going to entertain his mum with the fact she could be right. It just wasn't done.

Vis' mum watched her son disappeared behind the door of the refrigerator. "How was your day?"

Vis emerged a second later with a soda in hand. "Usual." He came to lean on the counter facing his mum.

"That bad?"

"Not that bad," said Vis. He knocked back half of the can of soda in one gulp.

"So what made the difference?" Devra went over to the stove to stir the pasta.

Vis slid the can of soda on the counter back and forth between his hands. "I met someone interesting today."

"Oh?" said Devra, her voice pitching up in interest. "Would I like her?"

"Not a 'her', mom, 'him'."

Devra stopped stirring and forced a casual glance over her shoulder. "Oh?" As an afterthought she added, "That's perfectly fine…too."

Vis blinked uncomprehendingly at his mum. "What?" It dawned on him. "Mum!" His cheeks flushed pink. "Not like that! Gawd…not like that!"

His mum turned around to face Vis, "Well it's still perfectly fine," she said in her supporting motherly voice.

Vis rolled his eyes, "Anyway, I met his interesting guy at the park."

"So what makes this guy so interesting?"

"He's a werewolf."

Devra nearly dropped her spoon, "What?"

"He's a werewolf."

"I heard you, I don't believe it, but I heard you."

Vis tossed the now empty soda can into the recycling bin. "Mum, he's an honest to goodness werewolf."

"And how do you know that?"

Vis tapped his nose then his temple. "I sensed it. He's for real."

"And how did you come to meet him?"

"He got me out of a scuffle with Trenor and his gang today."

Devra's eyes widened. "They're bothering you again?"

Vis waved it off, "No matter. Anyway, he's a wizard."

"A…wizard…" Devra bit her lip, "Right."

"Serious, mum," Vis insisted. "He even made me a bit of some silver healing potion for me." At his mum's questioning look he added, "Er, in the scuffle I kind of touched a bit of silver." He showed her a wrist. It was slightly pink, but relative to what the charred skin had been, it was a drastic improvement. "It worked."

"And how do you know you could trust that man?" said Devra. "He could have poisoned you or kidnapped you or something. He could have been from the ministry, looking to round up all the werewolves, or just a madman, or a dark wizard working for You-Know-Who."

"He isn't."

"And how do you know that?"

Vis paused a moment. How did he know? "Instincts, mum," he replied.

Devra looked away for a moment. What she would give to have the resources to check the background of this person…"Alright Vis. I believe you."

"He knows stuff mum," said Vis, trying to keep the awe in his voice from showing. "I could learn so much from him, mum. He's another of my kind!"

"You're a human, Vis. Your kind is human."

"But I'm also a werewolf mum," pointed out Vis. "The only time I've been able to take to someone about my lycanthropy was right after I was bit. And that wasn't all that great either."

That was true, they didn't have much contact with the wizarding world, being muggles and all, no less other werewolves, which was just the way Devra wanted it."

"I don't want you around other werewolves, Vis. Who knows what they might influence you to do?  This man could be an alpha looking to start a new clan," Said Devra.

"Is that the reason you won't let me talk to anyone?" said Vis. "Then how the bloody hell am I supposed to learn about myself. I've got to learn about it someday. You keep telling me I could get hurt, but what if I hurt someone because I didn't know to control it? Don't you think I should learn that?"

"Who said this man would teach you?"

Vis faltered. He hadn't really asked, nor was he offered. "Well, I'd like to ask."

Devra sighed and gave one of the stove's knobs a flick. The flame sputtered out. "What's his name, by the way?"

"Remus Lupin."

Devra's mouth twitched into a smile. "Lupin? How appropriate."

Vis took the opportunity to roll his eyes again.

* * *

AN: Sorry it took so long. I had most of it written a long time ago, but lacking a couple transitional paragraphs. The part with Vis walking home. Eh…Good with? Good without?

Q&Cs greatly welcome.