Disclaimer: Crimson Solitaire does not own Harry Potter or his friends, and does not intend to make any money from this work of fiction.

Author's Note: Thank you to those who reviewed the prologue. I appreciate your comments. ~Crim*Sol

Life River

By Crimson Solitaire

Chapter One

By the time I was ten, I had been through roughly sixty transformations, each one would repeat the process of the breaking and resetting of my bones, the biting and scratching at myself. I gave myself numerous scars, but none would hurt like the one that I gave my mother.

She was never a drinker. She loved going to pubs, and saw them as an art in themselves - the drunkenness, the sweaty people groping each other to the rock 'n roll music; but never did she take place in these actions. Not to my knowledge anyway. I realize now that some days she probably did take part of these rituals, because it was the Sixties and Hippyism was at its height. She'd come home on the mornings after the full moon, let me out of the washroom, and tell me all about the nice people she met, among them were Jimi Hendrix and Mick Jagger - in the figurative sense, of course. It wasn't until I was ten that I figured out that the first statement I related was untrue. Well, it had been true that she never drank, that is, until I became the monster I am.

Though my mother was beginning to drink near daily, she was still good to me. Only, I believe her actions were because I was her Life River: I was her reason for living. I was also what brought her sorrow. I gave her life; I gave her death.

Her death wasn't my fault. Not technically. It was all her years of heavy drinking that gave her the liver disease that painfully killed her. But I'll spare you the details for right now. Save them for later. For now, we'll keep them in that box at the far corners of your brain - the drab, grayed holder of memories bad.

It was when I was ten years old that my mother did the greatest thing ever for me. She found a reason for me to live: She gave me my Life River.

The headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would not allow half-breeds to enroll in the school. This included me. While half-breed didn't exactly describe me or my heritage, my condition was on the list of creatures that were to never set foot on school grounds for educational purposes.

It was a Thursday morning that I took my very first Floo expedition into a shifty tavern at Hogsmeade, which I believe is now a frilly stationary shop. My mother ordered a butterbeer for me, and a firewhiskey for herself. She gulped the whiskey, ordered another, then patiently waited for me to finish my drink.

"What are we here for, Mum?" I asked her.

"Hogwarts," she said. "I'm surprised you haven't gotten any note from the school yet. Your name's down on the list and you don't live in a Muggle household."

"Don't you have to be eleven to get a letter?"

"Yes, well" - she took a swig of her drink, then sighed - "well, I wrote to the school, and I haven't had any reply. So, we've come to show them what a normal, wonderful boy you are, and that you are capable of going to school with civilized people."

"I am civilized."

"Well, love, we know that. But, there are people who don't...well, understand you."

This was news to me. "What do you mean?"

"Witches and wizards don't deal with people of your kind very often, that's all. They're afraid of them, even when they're in human form. They avoid werewolves, and discriminate them. Do you know what discriminate means? It means they treat you differently because you're not like them."

"In a bad way?" Mum nodded. "But, I don't understand. I'm just like everyone else, but with an illness. They don't treat people with cancer any different, do they?"

"There's a cure for cancer in our world," she said quietly, "not a cure for werewolves."

This was the moment I realized how much I really didn't know about my magical side. I grew up barely knowing that I was a wizard, not really knowing what that meant. I had only seen my mother use her wand a handful of times, and the idea fascinated me like a fantasy story. All of a sudden, she was telling me things about the reality that I never thought existed. I figured that the wizarding world would be like all the fantasy books my mum and I read together. It was a very wrong figuring.

I didn't speak, just gulped my butterbeer, and then followed my mother down the path through town and to the castle that was really a school.

"Ah, Miss Lupin." The voice was jovial and belonged to a man with several feet of red hair and beard that was going steadily silver. He looked down at us through his half-moon spectacles, his blue eyes twinkling in delight. He wore the oddest set of clothing I had ever seen: A violet velvet robe with a printed pattern of moons and stars, and a matching pointed hat.

"Professor Dumbledore." Mum dragged me up the stairs at a faster pace, then shook the wizard's hand. "Professor, this is my son, Remus. Remus, this is Professor Dumbledore." I shook his hand as well.

"Pleased to meet you, Remus," the professor said. "I hear you want to go to this school."

"Yes, sir."

"Glad to hear it." He turned to my mother. "Professor Dippet has been quite ill lately and I've been acting in his place, so I apologize for not getting back to your owls as fast as we both would have liked."

"I apologize that I've pelted you with so many of them."

I kept my eyes from widening. My mother never apologized to anyone except for me. She must have held amazing respect for this man.

"No worries, Kathryn. I can understand. Do come inside, we'll go up to my office and have tea."

"That'll be lovely."

I was taken into the largest hall I had ever seen and led up a staircase with hundreds upon hundreds of paintings that moved. I tugged at my mother's sleeve and pointed to them.

"Oh, don't mind them," she said. "They're like that everywhere."

"I take it that you're not painting anymore moving pictures, then?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, sir. I had my fun with them at school, I have no need for them now."

We reached his office, and stepped inside a cluttered room with three windows of different shapes on one wall, and shelves of objects on the other three. A large, oak desk, also piled with gadgets, sat in the middle of the room. He pulled out his wand and produced a large tray of tea items, and a hot chocolate for me. We sipped quietly for a moment.

"Why is it that you chose to live as a Muggle, Kathryn, and not pursue your mediwitch training like you planned?"

"The Sixties happened, I suppose. And pregnancy. But all I wanted to really do was paint."

"You've a brilliant mind, and you're ambitious enough. Why not start again now? I'd certainly talk to my contacts."

She shook her head. "No, I think I'd just like to pay attention to being a mum for now."

Professor Dumbledore nodded. "Understandable. What about after he starts school?"

My mother shook her head. "It seems he'll never get in with his condition."

"Miss Lupin, Remus is a wonderful boy. We both know that he's smart and polite, and that he deserves to be educated the same as any other human being. Unfortunately for both him and us, the world doesn't work that way. If I were the headmaster, Remus would be the first to get his letter. But I'm not the headmaster - just simply taking his place during his absence."

"But he's old and ill. Do you think it possible -" She stopped herself. "I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't mean it. Professor Dippet is a great man, and I would never wish him horrid things. I'm just - just frustrated, is all. I'm desperate to get him into school. I think he needs it. I can't keep him from the real world anymore, nor to myself."

"It would hardly seem fair."

There was silence. It was awkward and painfully agitated. I was frightened - never had my mother talked in such ways as she was doing that day. I was stuck in between wanting to go to school and be normal like everyone else, or to stay with my mother the rest of my days being sheltered from everything. All ready I was tired of our flat, tired of London, tired of being controlled by my mother. I decided right then that I really wanted more than anything to go to this school.

Professor Dumbledore's sharp blue eyes penetrated mine and held my gaze for a few seconds before nodding. I had a strange feeling that he had read my thoughts and was nodding to my silent prayer of hope: Please let me in, let me be here, let me be like all the other kids, let me in. Let me live. My mother used to tell me that there was no god, only stupid people worshiping some man that they thought could help them get what they wanted in life. I knew my mother was wrong at that moment. Dumbledore was god: He had heard my prayer, and had nodded as a sign of granting my wish. I grinned wider than I had in the last five years, and squeezed my mother's hand tightly.

"I'll tell you what I'm going to do, Miss Lupin," he said finally. "I'm going to place Remus's name on the list, and we'll tell Professor Dippet that we've got Remus's condition under control and that he's going to be going home every full moon so no students will be in danger."

"That's expensive," Mum said. She had never worried about money.

"That is why it is a decoy. There is a hidden passageway from the grounds to a house in Hogsmeade for the teachers. The house hasn't been used in years; I think half the teachers don't even know about it. We could arrange for Remus to be sent there during the full moon, and no one would be the wiser. He will be able to transform in safety and peace."

My mother gave a nod. "I appreciate this greatly, Professor."

"I know you do, Kathryn," Professor Dumbledore replied softly. "I know how much it means to you. We have the same desires, you and I. We should not let those with little knowledge stand in our way." He tapped his nose.

"Thank you for meeting with us today, Professor. I am afraid we must get going, I have some errands to run in the village." We stood, and the professor rose with us. He gave a bow, saying, "It is a pleasure to have you in my office, as always."

My mother gave a girlish grin. "I was never under the impression that you thought so. I figured you thought me just a tiring troublemaker."

"It is always delightful, Kathryn, to have company such as yourself, even with the troubles you make. We found good use for some of the moving portraits you've painted, and many of them have made me laugh." His eyes were twinkling merrily. "If you're not careful, Remus will be just like you during his school years." He gave me a wink.

"Oh, I do not think that that would be pleasurable. I don't fancy much that Remus would turn out like me; there wouldn't be so much hope for him, after all. No, Remus is smarter and stronger, and he is a good child. He won't be a troublemaker, and he won't disappoint me. Good day, Professor."

Mum took my hand and led me out of the cozy room, and then further out of the castle. We walked in silence, contented, back to the village. This is where I met my first Life River.

But first, maybe I should explain the term Life River as I've seen it: Life River is not to be confused with River of Life. River of Life seems to mean the river that flows with life; that gives life. While Life River can give you life, it is deeper to say that it gives you a reason for living. It can also give you a reason for unhappiness. Mum explained it to me all those years ago that it was like a real river: It can be life giving, but it can be a bringer of death as well. Maybe this doesn't make much sense to one who hasn't had to live with the term, but I will be able to show you more of my meaning later on. It's easier to show than tell, anyway. And it's quite a long story that goes with the explanation.

My first Life River. He was standing in a corner of the Quidditch supply shop, staring up at the newest edition of the Cleansweep racing broom. He looked over at me when I stood next to him and gave a small smile.

"She's a beauty, isn't she?"

I nodded in agreement, though I had no idea what he meant by that. In the fairy tales my mum and I would read at night, there would be witches and wizards riding all over the country on broomsticks, and I had asked her if people really did ride on them, and she had said yes, but I had never believed her because I had never seen it happen.

"What I wouldn't give to be able to bring something like that to Hogwarts," the boy said. "But you know the rules, First years aren't allowed broomsticks."

"Are you going to Hogwarts next year?" I asked.

"Of course!" the boy said, his hazel eyes wide with excitement. "And I can't wait. Are you going there?"

I hesitated slightly. "Yes...yes, of course."

"No better place, there isn't. What House do you hope you get in?"

I shrugged, having no clue what he was talking about.

"Well, my father was in Gryffindor, so naturally I should like to be in there. Mum was in Ravenclaw, so I guess that would be okay too. A lot better than Hufflepuff or Slytherin."

"My mum was a Ravenclaw," I said, remembering the stories she told of Hogwarts, which were few. "But, yeah, Gryffindor would be nice."

The boy nodded. "Oh, I'm James, by the way. James Potter." He held out his hand and I shook it.

"Remus. Remus Lupin."

"Remus Lupin," he said, shaking my hand enthusiastically. "That's a good, strong name. My father always says to make friends with people who have strong names. Says it shows strong character, which, of course, makes them a good ally."

I didn't know what ally meant, but I figured by the way he said it that it was a good thing. I wanted a friend more than anything, so I grinned at James Potter and he clapped me on the back.

"Now, there's a Sirius Black around here somewhere, and you're going to like him too. I just met him today as well, but he's got a good strong name like you and I'm willing to bet that he'd like you too."

"Remus!" I turned and saw my mother calling me from the door of the shop. "Remus, we best be going. I've got a present for you, but you can't open it until we get back to London."

I had the urge to roll my eyes for the first time in my life.

"All right, Mum." I turned back to James and shook his hand again. "It was nice meeting you, James Potter. I hope that I will be able to see you again, and to meet your friend Sirius Black."

"Oh, you will, Remus," James said. "Don't you worry about that." He waved to me as I walked out the door.

"Who was that?" Mum asked as we headed towards the bar from which we arrived.

"James Potter," I answered. "He's going to Hogwarts next year too."

"Potter, eh? I bet I knew his father growing up. He was a good kid, grew to be a good man. I didn't know him as well as I would have liked, with all the House rivalry, but you'll do yourself a favor to be friends with that Potter boy."

I nodded, and stepped into the large firebox. I grinned excitedly as we hurtled back to our flat in London. Things were going to start going my way.

* * *