Le Loup Tragique
Author: Karwyn
Rating: Somewhere between PG-13 and R. Subject to change.
Summary: A history of Remus J. Lupin, student, professor, lover, werewolf, and man.
Spoilers for the third book if you haven't finished it yet. Maybe 5th book spoilers, but I'll let you know ahead of time.
Prologue.
It began with the last scream of a dying man.
Or, in this particular case, a boy. The small boy thought most certainly this was his death, also. Such small, brave little boys are not to scream, otherwise, or so he was taught.
So what, on this late fall evening, had led boy no more than four or five to think that it was his time to die?
He had wandered into the woods alone, presumably following some creature his naive mind no doubt found fascinating. A bit too far from the yard he had strayed, ending up in some grassy clearing well into the woods, the bright full moonlight illuminating it well so that he might explore it curiously. After all, why come so far from home and not make it worth while? He decided he would find his mother a treasure, compensation for making her worry so after leaving the yard. His mother would hug him and kiss him in scores when discovering not only had he returned home safely, but with a treasure as well!
But, try as he might, he could not come upon any trinket that would serve as an apology. So after giving the clearing one last run-through, he began to dart into the edges of the trees, out of the direct moonlight but still with sufficient light to treasure-hunt by.
He had never been afraid of the dark. He was always told that there really wasn't anything to be frightened of, anything out there in the blackness would be no trouble to defend himself against.
Of course, he forgot that this was only the case when an adult was around.
But worry he did not, with the possibility of treasure still foremost in his mind.
Minutes passed, and still he was scouring the edges of the thicket beyond the clearing. Straining his little eyes to see, he began rummaging in the pebbles and other earthy debris at the foot of an enormous boulder. Sifting...sifting...grey rocks, pine cones, no... a bird feather? No.
A sudden glint out of the corner of his eye made him crawl a bit to the right of the boulder. Ah-ha! A tiny quartz crystal the same shade as the moonbeams. Oh, how his mother would love this! Happily, he stood up, not bothering to brush the dirt off of his already grubbed clothes. Turning around, however, he noticed something that wasn't there, before.
A pair of bright, pale eyes were gleaming out of the darkness on the other side of the clearing.
Yes, he wasn't supposed to be afraid of the dark. But that didn't mean he couldn't be afraid of the things that resided in it. And currently, he was very, very wary of just what this thing was. Near-panic, he skirted left of the clearing, darting towards the direction he believed his home to be in.
He soon heard thumping paws in the dirt behind him, and in his haste to escape, misinterpreted the way the forest was woven, tripped over a tree root, and fell flailing headlong onto the forest floor. His crystal escaped his grasp, landing a couple of feet away from his outstretched fingers. Uttering a soft cry, he tried to spin around quickly to fend away the danger or get to his feet before the foe could reach him.
But he was not quick enough. The maddened wolf was already baring down upon him, long ivory fangs dripping, jaws snapping in a hungry manner between growling snarls.
An ear-splitting scream, and suddenly the moon-white stone was tainted with bright crimson.
So it began.