Prologue
The Lupin family dates back farther than any record ive come across. In fact no one knows exactly who was the oldest lupin, the wizard who began this long line. There are however rumors.
There was a portrait in the attic of my great aunt Launi's old home in the French Countryside of a young man in a wingbacked chair, with a goblet in his hands, and a ferverishly colored Pheonix perched just a bit over his left shoulder. He was smiling through a bushy mustache, his eyes twinkling a dusty bronze-brown. His hair, brushed cleanly back away from his high forehead, which was creased obviously from deep thought.
Of course, this portrait was animated as all other wizard and witch portraits are. He wouldnt speak however, as if the dust in that attic and smothered his vocal cords.The bird wouldnt make a slight sound either, but a little rustle of his wings would give away the dust that had been mounting on his bright feathers. The drink in the goblet had been long since dried up.
Everyone suspected that he, the unamed man to old to tell his story, was the first Lupin. Of course, when anyone asked him this, he merely tilted his head to the side and blinked as if he didnt speak english. Perhaps he didnt. Even after they refurbished him, he was still as quiet as ever. So they hung him on the far wall of aunt Launis dining room, over a large scorch mark that her youngest son, Ebstine, and put there during one lovely christmas dinner.
The lineage had climbed down from the unnamed man in the picture to my father, Gerald Vergil Lupin, son and heir to Edward Nero Lupin, and brother to Patrick Durgine Lupin and Gwyndolyn Daisy Lupin.
Aunt Gwyndy was, and there is no other way to put it, A nutter. Though we all loved her dearly, and all worried for her safety, my father and mother would never hesitate to throw in a 'Bless her heart'. And you know, when people say 'Bless his/her heart', there is something wrong with that individual. She was often found in the library in my Grandfathers three story home in Paris, Ripping pages out of books to make little paper animals out of. ...Bless her heart.
Uncle Pat , it seemed, had never forgiven my father for being a first born. Desperately into swindling and gambling, he always managed to throw it in my grandfathers face that he should have a share of the money. Im positively sure that had he asked my father, or grandfather for any money, the wouldve been more than abliged to lend him some. But Pat wasnt at all into lending, and not at all into being in debt, so he never did ask.
Hilda Marie Walker was a young woman my father met as he was working in the ministry of magic in the department of disposal for dangerous creatures. My mother was a healer at St. Mungo's hospital, a woman half muggle, who my father fell hopelessly in love with while visiting his sister in the mental ward after she had allegedly used a spell to stop a crowd of people in the street and perform a play, herself as the puppeteer.
Perhaps now is the proper time to unravel the secret to my family. From the time of the unnamed man in the portrait to a generation before myself, The Lupins were a pure blood family of France. More shocking a suprise, A branch of us mingles in with the Malfoys, the whole lot of them. But we dont associate much.
When my father had spoken of Hilda, he was shunned immediately. She wasnt welcomed into the house by my grandmother, Petri (Petrice). My Grandfather on the other hand was quite in love with the idea that his son had fancied a Muggle, and invited my mother to his estate in paris many times.
Soon all was set. He'd proposed to my mother, who had accepted, but in order for a witch and wizard to become legally wed, both parents must consent, no matter what the age. While Hildas only relative, her mother, agreed, Geralds mother did not. She could not be swayed by her husband.
Shortly after, as i understand it a month, my Grandmother mysteriously died. Rumor was it was Aunt Gwyny who had killed her by mistake, doing some oddball spell that the nutter couldnt perform. None the less, after what seemed to be centuries of a staled marriage had finally ended, My grandfather was free and my parents were married.
The Lupin family dates back farther than any record ive come across. In fact no one knows exactly who was the oldest lupin, the wizard who began this long line. There are however rumors.
There was a portrait in the attic of my great aunt Launi's old home in the French Countryside of a young man in a wingbacked chair, with a goblet in his hands, and a ferverishly colored Pheonix perched just a bit over his left shoulder. He was smiling through a bushy mustache, his eyes twinkling a dusty bronze-brown. His hair, brushed cleanly back away from his high forehead, which was creased obviously from deep thought.
Of course, this portrait was animated as all other wizard and witch portraits are. He wouldnt speak however, as if the dust in that attic and smothered his vocal cords.The bird wouldnt make a slight sound either, but a little rustle of his wings would give away the dust that had been mounting on his bright feathers. The drink in the goblet had been long since dried up.
Everyone suspected that he, the unamed man to old to tell his story, was the first Lupin. Of course, when anyone asked him this, he merely tilted his head to the side and blinked as if he didnt speak english. Perhaps he didnt. Even after they refurbished him, he was still as quiet as ever. So they hung him on the far wall of aunt Launis dining room, over a large scorch mark that her youngest son, Ebstine, and put there during one lovely christmas dinner.
The lineage had climbed down from the unnamed man in the picture to my father, Gerald Vergil Lupin, son and heir to Edward Nero Lupin, and brother to Patrick Durgine Lupin and Gwyndolyn Daisy Lupin.
Aunt Gwyndy was, and there is no other way to put it, A nutter. Though we all loved her dearly, and all worried for her safety, my father and mother would never hesitate to throw in a 'Bless her heart'. And you know, when people say 'Bless his/her heart', there is something wrong with that individual. She was often found in the library in my Grandfathers three story home in Paris, Ripping pages out of books to make little paper animals out of. ...Bless her heart.
Uncle Pat , it seemed, had never forgiven my father for being a first born. Desperately into swindling and gambling, he always managed to throw it in my grandfathers face that he should have a share of the money. Im positively sure that had he asked my father, or grandfather for any money, the wouldve been more than abliged to lend him some. But Pat wasnt at all into lending, and not at all into being in debt, so he never did ask.
Hilda Marie Walker was a young woman my father met as he was working in the ministry of magic in the department of disposal for dangerous creatures. My mother was a healer at St. Mungo's hospital, a woman half muggle, who my father fell hopelessly in love with while visiting his sister in the mental ward after she had allegedly used a spell to stop a crowd of people in the street and perform a play, herself as the puppeteer.
Perhaps now is the proper time to unravel the secret to my family. From the time of the unnamed man in the portrait to a generation before myself, The Lupins were a pure blood family of France. More shocking a suprise, A branch of us mingles in with the Malfoys, the whole lot of them. But we dont associate much.
When my father had spoken of Hilda, he was shunned immediately. She wasnt welcomed into the house by my grandmother, Petri (Petrice). My Grandfather on the other hand was quite in love with the idea that his son had fancied a Muggle, and invited my mother to his estate in paris many times.
Soon all was set. He'd proposed to my mother, who had accepted, but in order for a witch and wizard to become legally wed, both parents must consent, no matter what the age. While Hildas only relative, her mother, agreed, Geralds mother did not. She could not be swayed by her husband.
Shortly after, as i understand it a month, my Grandmother mysteriously died. Rumor was it was Aunt Gwyny who had killed her by mistake, doing some oddball spell that the nutter couldnt perform. None the less, after what seemed to be centuries of a staled marriage had finally ended, My grandfather was free and my parents were married.