Ok, this fic really starts where it says "Dear Anonymous Person" The stuff in front of it is sort of like background information, it's optional.
It is a letter from Remus Lupin to someone who has recently been bitten by a werewolf.
And about his sarcastic ness - Remus doesn't want to be writing this letter, and I think seeing as he hung out with James and Sirius, he had to have a bit of personality. Therefore, I have decided to make him sarcastic.
Disclaimer: All J.K Rowlings, I own nothing.
Hi! We've got just one more task for you before you get to go home! Attached to this paper, marked with the letter "A" are your instructions! Attached and marked with the letter "B" are all the things you will need to know about your task. Have fun! : )
Jasmindy Olkson,
Manager of the Werewolf Legislation Office.
A: Hello, young Werewolf. You will remember when you were first bitten; you received a letter from another person who had already had many years experience of dealing with their little "problem". You are going to write a letter to someone and inform them of your own personal experiences (how you were bitten), you will tell them what to do on the night of the full moon and anything else you think they need to know. Keep it short, keep it simple and make sure you make a good impression!
- Do not use any vulgar language
- Do not insult the person you are writing to
- Do not insult the W.L.O
- Do not neglect this task, you will be severely reprimanded if you do.
- The W.L.O will not be reading these letters but we expect ALL of the above rules to be complied with.
This could be a chance to make a wonderful new friend!
B: You are not allowed to know the name of the person you are writing to, to protect their identities.
These are his or hers details:
Sex: MALE
Age: FOURTY ONE
Date of bite: 25/2/77
Conditions of bite: LATE NIGHT STROLL
Mental condition: AVERAGE
Dear Anonymous Person (I'm only allowed to know your name if you decide to tell me. That's pretty unfair. Just look at the bottom of this letter, you get to know my name),
First, I would like to say yeah, you are a person, you are not a thing and you are not a monster, well not most of the time. Why am I telling you this? Because I know what you are thinking, I used to think like that too.
Now I know you're asking yourself the following things:
A) Why me? Oh god why me? What did I do to deserve this curse? Etcetera, etcetera, blah blah blah.
B) Why am I receiving a letter from this annoying berk?
C) How can he possibly know what I am thinking?
And now, Anonymous Person (is it alright if I call you A.P? Too bad if it isn't, because that's what I'm going to do), I will answer the above questions.
I know, I know, WOW! What a thrill. You don't really care that I'm taking the time to write to you, do you?
Anyway, to business.
A) Why you? The same reason as me probably, give or take a couple of details. You probably went into a forest alone, a Werewolf probably bit you. Trust me, it's nothing personal. You're not special or anything, it just happened. Life's shit. Deal with it.
B) You are receiving a letter from me because I have to write it. I'm being forced to do it. Something about Annual Werewolf Checks. Have your scars examined! Have people observe you while you're locked in a padded cell! Spend a week away from your friends! Oh, and to top it all off, write a letter to a recently bitten werewolf, informing him of his condition, so the lazy bastards at the legislation office don't have to do it! What fun. I'd rather be at my school, with my friends.
C) My, my aren't we a tad bit slow? If you haven't realised by now, I know what you're going through because I've been through it too. Looking at your stats, it says you're 41. Huh, well I'm 16. Been there, done that, all at the ripe old age of four.
Right, now, so you're felling angry. Angry is quite a weak word isn't it? Yes, I think so too. You're feeling BLOODY PISSED OFF. Frustrated? Confused? I'm supposed to inform you of my own personal experiences so that you'll feel informed and all that. I don't see why I should re live one of the worst memories of my life for you, but I guess I've got to do what I've got to do.
When I was four years old, my Father (an alcoholic) taunted me, ashamed that I was so small for my age. Here are some of his insults, just so you get the gist of it: Wuss, Weakling, Waste of Space, Wretched piece of flesh… Isn't it amusing, they all start with double-u? Yes I think so too. His favourite thing to yell at me was "Stop wasting my oxygen, you filthy little girl!" Ah. Good times, good times.
Anyway, one day, my Father decided it would be a wonderful idea for us to go camping, just me and him. "Male Bonding!" he had roared, clapping me on the back. See, my dear old Dad was a pretty strong guy; therefore I fell forward into a couple of my deceased Mum's flowerpots.
Anyway, it was agreed. We would go camping in the forest behind our house that night. We set out at about 5 pm, I think. When we arrived at our destination, and put up a tent, Dad promptly informed me that this was an exercise to prove my courage, bravery, honour etc. He said my first task would be to get water from the fresh-water river we knew was somewhere in the heart of the forest. Then Dad took out a couple of cans of beer and proceeded to get thoroughly wasted.
I went off on my way, getting water from the river? Too easy! It took me about an hour to get to the river, and about an hour and a half going back. When I got to the tent I kinda expected him to be all proud and smiling, you know? All "My boy's so strong and brave!" But he wasn't. The old tosser was asleep. I wasn't going to have that so I shook him awake. He swatted at me and said, "Water, more."
It was getting dark but I went off again. I think I was about ten minutes away from the campsite when I set the water down for a bit of a rest. It was really quiet and I could hear my breathing. It took me about half a second to realize it wasn't just my breathing I could hear. There were these rasping breaths, like you get when you've run really fast. I thought it was my Dad, so I called out to him. I saw these yellow pricks of light in the bushes and then it leapt at me.
It's weird; I can remember all of that in such clear detail. I can remember what the sky looked like when I was laying there, blood trickling down my side. The stars blinking down at me. The moon. Full. It was so cold. The wolf had left me, I don't know why. Maybe I didn't taste that great. Actually, when I was lying there, I thought I was dead. When my Dad was hovering above me, I thought he was an angel. Sure a pretty ugly one, but an angel all the same. But angels didn't cry. And he was weeping. And screaming, "Remus! Remus! What have I done!?" And I replied. " You didn't do anything D-Dad. It was a wolfy. Why are you c-crying?" And he bundled me up in his arms and ran all the way home. I was delirious and shivering but I remember what he told me. He said. "That's right son! Hang on! You're so brave Remus! So brave! I'm so sorry… I'll never drink again! I promise I'll never hurt you Remus, never!"
He babbled, but he kept that promise.
So that's my personal experience. Now, I know you will want to know about the actual transformations. How do I deal with it? Will it hurt much? That sort of thing.
On the night of the full moon, lock yourself away. Seems pretty obvious doesn't it? Yeah, that's what I thought. Apparently there was some git who transformed in a restaurant kitchen. No wonder people are scared of us. Anyway, a basement or empty room should do the trick. MAKE SURE THERE IS NO WAY IN HELL THAT YOU WILL BE ABLE TO GET OUT. MAKE SURE NO ONE CAN GET IN.
A.P, I go to hell once a month. That's how much it hurts. Every bone in your body is going to break and regrow as a Werewolf's. The first couple of times will nearly drive you insane. Before the night is over, you will wish you were dead. You will yearn for blood, human flesh. You will bite and scratch yourself all night long, trying to satisfy your desire. When you wake up, you will be exhausted, maybe unable to move. You'll have lost a lot of blood and until you learn to do it yourself you will need someone to administer medical help. It won't be pretty.
Know this, A.P, you will be fooling yourself if you think you will get used to this torture.
That's basically all the bastards require me to tell you. But I'm going to tell you some more.
The imbeciles at the Werewolf Legislation Office will try to tell you all about your condition. Basically, they're going to treat you like a piece of shit. Werewolf shit, to be exact.
They know nothing.
They will treat you like a five year old. Apparently becoming a werewolf lowers your I.Q by oh, 100 points. Not true.
When you go to the office for the first time, it is a good idea to have about twenty words in your vocabulary, which you are pretty sure they are not going to understand. For example: pisciculture, which means the artificial rearing of fish. Use these twenty words as much as you can. It is a lot of fun watching them try to understand what you are talking about. Always roll your eyes when they ask you to repeat yourself. Also, if they're really pissing you off, glare pretty forcefully at them and they'll back off quick as lightning. The idiots think that if a Werewolf gets angry enough, he or she will transform right then and there, no full moon needed. Once again, not true.
The one thing I think you need to know is this:
They will tell you not to tell anyone apart from immediate family about your condition. They will tell you to do anything you can to hide your secret. They will tell you that if anyone finds out, you will be an outcast; you will be hunted down, maybe even killed.
A.P, if there is a person you trust, you can tell them. If they're worthy, they probably will have guessed anyway. That's what happened to me. I have three of the best friends in the world and I was terrified I would loose them once they found out about me. I was wrong. They stuck by me. If there's someone out there you think will do the same for you, tell them. Don't live in fear of your friends finding out, you will have enough to deal with.
Finally, I'm going to say this.
Yeah, I've often wondered what my life would be like if I hadn't gone camping with my Dad that night. I know it would be a relief, not to have the monthly burden. But, I don't know. Would it truly be better than what it is now? I have three wonderful friends, all of us drawn closer, our bonds unbreakable because of my secret. Would I still have that in an alternate universe where I wasn't bitten? Maybe I would. Maybe I wouldn't. My condition caused me to become shy and withdrawn. Maybe they wouldn't have been so insistent on becoming my friends if I hadn't sparked their interests by saying absolutely nothing during my first week of school.
I get to go home now. James, Sirius and Peter will be waiting for me in our dormitory, ready to throw me a little party. Should be fun.
It's nice to have friends. I would trust them with my life, you know, they would never betray me.
Anyway, I hope I have told you all you need to know about Werewolfyness, if I haven't… well, too bad.
Remus John Lupin.
feedback would be appreciated. = )