Here's a little songfic I composed in my head while driving to Iowa last weekend. Lots of Remus angst and sadness, I think, found in a rather unlikely place. The words are from The Logical Song, by Supertramp, and do NOT belong to me, though I did tweak them a little. (Please don't sue me!) Review, yes? Please?

When I was young, it seemed that life was so wonderful
A miracle, oh it was beautiful, magical
And all the birds in the trees, well they'd be singing so happily,
Joyfully, playfully watching me

Remus Lupin could remember the small piece of childhood he had had before that fateful night his life was changed forever; he recalled that brief period of being frequently and longingly. Life was simple and carefree then, and he'd had everything he'd ever need. But then he got bitten by that werewolf, and now it could never be that way again.

But then they sent me away to teach me how to be sensible
Logical, responsible, practical
And they showed me a world where I could be so dependable
Clinical, intellectual, cynical

Not so long afterwards his parents sent him to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They told him he was lucky to get in, that he should be grateful. And he was. But now he had to be careful, so careful. He couldn't let one single thing slip, even to those he thought were his dearest and most trustworthy friends- no one could know his terrible secret; such a burden for a child to bear. No longer was he free to be careless; there was no room for error. He was now a terrible danger to others and even himself, and the only way to survive would be to adopt the most cautious and chary lifestyle possible.

There are times when all the world's asleep
The questions run too deep
For such a simple man
Won't you please, please tell me what we've learned
I know it sounds absurd
But please tell me who I am

Sometimes he really didn't know himself, not just when the beast took over every month. The way he had to live, trying to pass himself as being just like everyone else, often made him feel he was living the life of another; certainly not his own.

Now what would you say if they were calling you a radical?
Liberal, fanatical, criminal?

Now he was out of school and in the harsh real world, where everywhere he went someone would inevitably find out of his disease, and he was run out of town. He was his own disease, a pestilance, a contamination of humanity, a plague unto himself. He was labeled and branded a criminal wherever he went, though what was his crime other than the cruelty of fate?

Won't you sign up your name; we'd like to feel you're
Acceptable, respectable, presentable, a vegetable!

It seemed in this life you couldn't make it without being completely devoid of emotion or personality, for those things cause faults, and faults are imperfections, and imperfections must be avoided at all costs. The only way to be accepted into that horrible necessity called society was to be utterly flawless, never drawing any attention whatsoever, just blending into the suburban norm that surrounded you. Drowned you. It had made Remus what his personality never meant for him to become: bitter and cynical.

At night, when all the world's asleep
The questions run so deep
For such a simple man

Won't you please

(Oh won't you tell me?)

Please tell me what we've learned

(Can you hear me?)

I know it sounds absurd

(Oh won't you help me?)

Please tell me who I am

Sometimes he woke up at night with a scream on his lips, wild eyed and sweating. He only sometimes recalled what he had been dreaming, but was often glad he couldn't. Why would you wish to recall nightmares when all your life you've only been living one?