Chapter Forty-Three: The Beast

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Sunlight filtered through the trees and onto Remus Lupin's face, turning the darkness of his eyelids to a crimson red. He shifted his body, and after a fresh wave of pain overtook him, he quickly decided not to move again.

He opened his eyes. He must be somewhere behind Hogsmeade. Perhaps on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. He felt dry leaves rub against raw, bleeding skin. He lifted his hands and saw without surprise that they were covered with blood.

More scars to add to the rest of them, he thought. Then he remembered why there was blood on his hands.

He turned his head and retched. It wasn't his blood.

He gritted his teeth and steeled himself for sitting upright. It was excruciating, but at least he could see the full damage that had been done.

His lips felt dry and cracking, and he slowly passed his tongue along them. For whatever reason, there was dried blood all along his mouth.

He shuddered. His eyes were wide, his breathing was irregular and panicked, and he was shaking. It hurt, oh it hurt, but involuntarily he shook nonetheless.

There was blood in his mouth. He retched again. He was dizzy, and voices were approaching. Familiar voices. A man's, a woman's. They were pleasant voices that reminded him of full moons during his school days, but he was either too tired or too sick with disgust to clearly identify them.

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The next time he opened his eyes, he felt clean robes on him and a soft bed beneath him. The ceiling was high and familiar, and the room smelled of fresh potions and clean sheets.

"What happened to you, sir?"

Remus turned his head. A boy, no more than thirteen with red hair and a few scattered freckles was gazing at him. Remus faintly wondered if his face was still as bloody as it'd been before, but he decided it wasn't – for the boy was merely curious rather than disgusted.

"You look all torn up. Were you attacked?"

"Who are you?" Remus asked, suddenly noticing with dismay how hoarse his voice sounded.

The boy puffed out his chest. "I'm the new chaser for Gryffindor."

The boy vaguely reminded him of James. "Gryffindor, eh? That's me as well."

The boy raised an eyebrow.

"It was, anyways. So what are you in here for? Besides to ask questions."

The boy grinned. "I could ask the same of you. In fact I have, already. Alright, if you must know – Quidditch injuries. Ravenclaw's got tough beaters."

"I bet," Remus said quietly. The boy waited expectantly for an answer, and Remus sighed. "I was, er, attacked."

"By who?"

"A werewolf."

The boy's mouth dropped. "I heard about that, I did. From Bill's – my brother's Daily Prophet."

Remus caught his breath. "Go on," he said stiffly.

"They said there was an attack on Hogsmeade. Four people dead. Two of 'em were hiking muggles. Can't quite remember their names... but there's a big investigation an' everything."

Madam Pomfrey had arrived just in time to stop the increasingly unpleasant conversation.

"Oh, Mr. Weasley, if you're well enough to interrogate my patients, you're well enough to go to class."

The boy swore softly under his breath, and left the wing feigning a limp.

Madame Pomfrey fussed about him, feeding him some unidentifiable potions that he'd had so many times, the taste had dulled over the years.

"Madame Pomf – "

"Oh heavens, dear. You've been out of school for three years now. My name's Poppy, Mr. Lupin."

"And my name's Remus," he answered dryly. Poppy smiled.

"What is it dear?"

"Was that me who – "

"Hush."

"But was it – "

"We both know you wouldn't do a thing like that on purpose."

"So I did kill all those people."

Poppy sighed. "Remus... Mr. Lupin..." She seemed to be at a loss for words. Finally, she muttered an "I'll get Albus".

Remus found it insulting that she needed Dumbledore in order to assuage this shameful recollection of murder that was beginning to grow within him, but then he realized he'd have trouble saying anything if he were in her position.

Did this make him a criminal? Was he up there with Sirius Black and Voldemort?

"Remus Lupin," came Dumbledore's booming greeting. He was stern and somewhat angry, which, even to a small degree, was frightening.

"What's this talk of murder I hear?"

"I did it, Professor."

"You most certainly did not. This could have happened to anyone. We'll be more cautious next time."

"But, Professor. I took innocent lives! I should be punished, thrown in jail, something!"

"Are you volunteering to join all those you've fought against?"

"Dumbledore, please. Someone has to pay."

"Yes. Someone must pay. But that someone is hidden within you, and will not ever come out fully. I couldn't sacrifice you in order to satisfy justice. That would ruin the whole purpose of avenging innocent lives."

"But I'm not innocent, Dumbledore."

"Ah, but no one is. Be that as it may, you are more spotless than even I am, for I have killed by my own free will."

Remus fell silent. "I could have hurt the children."

"But you didn't. So leave it there. You've done good. Now they're actually encouraged to follow the rules more closely and stay inside after hours."

Remus caught the humor, but didn't find it funny at all. "Where's Jamie?"

"Staying with the Ravenclaws. There was an extra bed in their tower."

"And Luna?"

"I found her unscathed and the Lovegoods have volunteered to take care of her while you recover."

"Unscathed? She wasn't – it's not – she's not..."

"Rebecca is dead."

"It was Lucius," Remus declared without hesitation.

"It was also Lucius who fed the Ministry the information that she was attacked by the same werewolf that attacked Hogsmeade."

Remus choked, and seethed.

"It's all too much," he said quietly. "Everyone I ever loved. I loved James. I loved Lily. I loved Peter. Hell, I even loved Sirius back when I knew him."

Dumbledore peered at him over his glasses.

"The world's become a terrible place, with all its beasts and monsters. And to think... I'm one of them."

"Remus."

"No. Some family is weeping and falling apart because someone near to them's dead. And here I am... ready to cry like a little child." He bit his lip roughly to keep it still.

"Jamie's waiting for you. Don't confuse her."

"Jamie," he breathed. "No, Professor. Do me a favor, will you?"

Albus wasn't sure he was going to like the favor much.

"Give her the... the strongest memory charm you can... you can come up with."

"I will not."

"If you don't, then I will. She's just like her mother. Even if she's too young to remember, she'll see it nonetheless. Her Eye will show her what she wants to know, and she'll be curious about me. Block it."

"You'll be taking care of your children," Dumbledore said quietly and profoundly.

"But I can't. I'll kill them in the end, I know it. Who'll watch them when I transform? What happens when I have to tell them? What kind of a father would that be? One who attacks himself in absence of proper prey..."

For once, Dumbledore looked anxious and worried.

"You know I'm making a whole a lot of sense, don't you? That's why you won't stop me. I'm making too much sense. The truth hurts, doesn't it?" Remus's stopped himself, but too late. "The truth is what I've had to live with," he finished, muttering.

Dumbledore gave him a silencing glare. Remus shut his mouth, suddenly embarrassed.

"I'll agree. But for now only. The Lovegoods will keep Luna and I'll keep Jamie here. But only for you to regain your right mind. This is not the same man this staff has grown to know and tolerate and even love. You're in no state to raise them, but you will be."

Remus muttered something inaudible.

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Without any further thought, Remus sold the house. He needed the money, and he needed to leave the town he'd grown up in. He needed more hustle and bustle to occupy his tortured mind.

He returned to London, and with barely enough money to get by, he found he could afford no less than what came free. There was one place left, one place that wouldn't cost him anything, for it belonged to nobody, but it would take mental strength and a strong will to endure the memories.

By the end of September, Remus had settled himself in the small, untidied flat once owned by Sirius Black.

After elaborate plans of hiding his tracks and disguising himself whenever he went out (which was rare if not close to never), Remus Lupin eventually disappeared off the face of the earth, so it seemed to the untrained eye.

He'd settled down quite uncomfortably, finding himself more miserable by the day. But perhaps that's what kept him going. For he knew, without a doubt, he wouldn't have been able to survive in a happy environment, among people who lived their lives as if nothing of huge importance had happened to anyone in the world.

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NO! Come back! One more chapter, I swear. And, alas, there will be happiness to some small degree.