-Metamorphosis-

"Mommy, I want to go outside." A small boy of seven years with a set of brilliant blue eyes gazed wide-eyed up at his mother. She was busily chopping carrots, and wore a white apron over her blue and white checkered blouse. Her own eyes looked weary, her face tight and drawn, the skin on her face stretched taut across her skull. She was gaunt and losing more and more weight each day.

"Remus, I thought we talked about this." She was exhausted, and her fatigue made her look aged, old. Genevieve Lupin would have been beautiful if not for the onset of weight loss, and the load of sorrow. Her hair was once long and deep brown and shining like mahogany, and her cheeks a merry shade of pink, freckles sprinkled lightly across her nose. Her eyes had the bright blue brilliance of her son's.

Now, the mahogany was faded, her countenance pale, the eyes dull. She could not remember the last time she had laughed, smiled even. Ever since the day Remus—

"Please Mommy? Billy and Janie said—"

"Remus, why do you do this to me, to yourself? You know what today is, you know it wouldn't be safe for you to go out with—other people." She wished so desperately that he could go outside and play with the other children. Lately, he had withdrawn, reading for hours on end in his room, reading everything in the house, from the Bernstein Bears to Les Miserablé. He had been eating less and less too, and he was so frail looking the wind seemed to blow through him like paper.

"Why not?" He questioned her, and his query brought tears to her eyes. If there was a god, he was wretched, to curse a child like this. Her baby…her one and only…

Remus was the only child that Genevieve had been able to have. Before him had been Alexia, Marie, and Joseph, all still births. Remus was her angel, her miracle, and then…and then…

"Oh Remus," she said, kneeling down and wrapping her arms around him, cradling him close to her. He smelled of shampoo and soap. She cried softly into his hair.

"I just want to go outside," Remus said, his small voice breaking with tiny sobs.

"I wish that for you, my sweet Remus, more than anything in the world. But you know what today is, you know. Don't you?"

"The full moon," he whispered into her shoulder. "I hate the full moon."

"I know. I know. But you must be strong, Remus. Be strong for me." She leaned back on her feet and looked at him, her small boy, his face stained with tears, his lip quivering. She hoped she looked strong so he could be.

She took his small hand in her larger ones, rubbing it gently to calm him. "Be strong my little Remus," she whispered again, more to herself than to him.

Genevieve remembered vividly the day that it had happened…

It had been a sunny summer's day, a full moon. Remus was five years old, and had gone over to Freider's to play that afternoon. Freider and his mother Anna, were German, and spoke with thick accents that were often hard to understand. Somehow, though, little Remus had taken a liking to the young boy, and the two had become fast friends. It was so easy to get the two of them together as they lived down the street.

On this particular day, Genevieve had sent her Remus off for a sleep-over at Freider's, his very first. She remembered how excited he had been.

"Mum! My very first slumber party!" he had said excitedly before he had left her. She had squeezed his small hand and told him to be good and to be careful and do everything that Anna said. He had nodded his little head and scampered off down the street, a big smile plastered on his face. It was the last real smile she had seen on his face for a very long time.

The next morning, Genevieve awoke to find the house quiet, and she smiled, thinking of Remus.

She had padded out into the kitchen in her slippers, made her coffee, and flipped on the TV. A tall and slender woman reporter was talking about a missing child in Kinston, North Carolina the past evening. Genevieve's breath caught in her chest. Surely not…

Remus and she had moved to Kinston earlier that fall after the passing of her husband, Alexander. It was just too painful to stay in Massachusetts. There were just too many memories. Starting over had sounded good, and it had been good for Remus and her, after Alexander was in the car crash—

"A small boy," the reporter was saying now. "Was reported lost earlier this morning in the woods near the city. His whereabouts have not been released at this time, if they are known. We are encouraging anyone who knows anything to call your local police department immediately. In other news, gas prices are—"

But Genevieve did not care about gas prices. She cared about her son. She had turned off the TV and was on the phone calling Anna, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

"Hullo? Yes hullo. This is Genny. Is Remus there? Could I talk to him?" came her rush of words.

"Remus? We haven't seen him since last night. I thought—" Anna tried to say, but was cut off abruptly.

"You thought what? Where is my son? Oh my god. Where is my son?" She was crying now, and trying desperately to collect herself, to remain calm. Oh god. What if something had happened to her Remus?

"We've been searching. We didn't want to alarm you until we knew for sure he was—"

"You should have called me right away! Where is my boy? Where's my Remus?" She was in a panic now. "I'm coming over right now. Oh god…oh god…"

She was out the door in moments. What if something had happened to him?

She walked quickly down the street. The sky was a dark forboding gray, quite uncharacteristic of summer, and the pavement was wet. She guessed it had rained the night before. A soft breeze was blowing, and Genevieve wrapped her arms around her body to shield herself from the chill.

Genevieve was at the door now, pounding hard and loud on the door. Anna opened it cautiously.

"Where did you last see him?" Genevieve demanded, excluding proper greetings.

"They were playing in the yard. I think hide and seek, maybe tag—"

"And? And?" Genevieve found she was quivering. From the chill or from fear, she did not know.

"And they both ran into the woods. Remus got separated from Freider. He came running back, saying Remus was lost and I—"

"Take me to the woods. I have to find him. I have to find Remus."

"Alright. Try to calm down. I'm sure he's alright. It not as though he hadn't eaten. In fact—"

Genevieve stopped listening to her chatter and followed her behind the house into the back yard and to the edge of the woods.

"I'm going to call a search party, alright?" Anna said.

"Yeah. Yeah." Genevieve was already on her way into the forest. It was dark, and the trees grew close together, making it hard to see. But she would find him.

At first, she hummed to herself to try and console her fear. But then she gave up. As the hours wore on, her heart constricted more and more. Her shoes squished in the soft, moist earth, which was covered in pine needles like a blanket.

Then she heard it. She was deep into the heart of the woods when the faint sound came to her. It was soft, but she would know that sound anywhere. It was the sound of a small boy calling his mother. It was the sound of a small boy calling his mother. It was the sound of her son.

"Remus! Remus! Where are you?" Following the small sound of his voice, she turned to her right and walked briskly, breaking into a run the louder his voice got. Then she found him. Her blood turned to ice. "Oh my—" but she never finished.

Remus was lying on the ground near a particularly large evergreen, his left arm bent at an odd angle at his side. His hair was matted with his blood, his face covered with small cuts and bruises. There was a nasty gash on his neck.

As Genevieve ventured closer, she could see…no, it couldn't be…claw marks that left deep gashes on his arm. She was crying freely now. "Remus!" She knelt at his side. His eyes fluttered open, and he stared straight ahead, seeming not to see her.

"Bit…full moon…hurt…wouldn't stop…" he was mumbling something unintelligible.

"What? Honey, it's me, it's Mum."

"Don't…bite…hurt…scream…I am too…hairy…beast…hurt…" She assumed he was delirious. She gathered him up in her arms and carried him out of the forest. He mumbled the whole way.

Later that evening, Genevieve sat in the blank, generic hospital room with her son, who was asleep, and mumbling still, even in his sleep.

The doctors could not explain what happened. They could, of course, explain the obvious, such as the cuts and the broken arm. But they could not explain the claw marks on his right arm, the ones that seemed not to respond to any of their various ointments and treatments, and worried her the most. "—not like anything we've ever seen before—odd don't you think?—Where did you say you found him again?..."

She knew what those marks were now, she thought bitterly, coming back to the present. A werewolf had scratched her boy, marred him…and changed him. Changed him forever.

Things had never been the same.

Remus changed once every month, with the full moon. He had told her, once it became usual, what it was like.

His teeth would elongate, turn into fangs, he would grow hair in a matter of seconds, his nails would turn into sharp claws, and his voice would deepen. She would always lock him the shed when he began to change. It was the only safe way. He always forgot himself when he changed. She was afraid.

The metamorphosis was also painful, according to Remus. After the changing was over and he was back in his regular state again, he would often throw up. The nausea was overwhelming. He would always cry and beg her to make it stop, and she would hug him at tell him that she wished that she could. It was so hard.

Soon after he had begun his changes, Genevieve had moved them again, far away and internationally, all the way to Britain. She felt safe among all the unfamiliar things.

"Be strong," she said to him now, again. "Be strong."

"I'm trying Mommy. But I want to be a boy. Not a half boy. I want to be real."

"But you are real, Remus, and I love you." She reached out, beckoning him again. He stepped into her arms and nestled close to her neck. She rubbed his hair, and for a moment, things felt normal. She was just a regular mom, and he was a 'real' boy, if only for a moment. A tiny snapshot of normality in a sea of sorrow was enough for her.

Everything changed. Everything changed with the rising of the moon. Their life, their home, friends, school…sometimes Remus was too sick after a full moon to go to school…nothing was normal, and everything was hard. Genevieve and Remus had lived in a sphere of pain and fear since that fateful summer day.

But someday, Remus would make something of himself. Someday, he would be important. But right now, he was her special little boy, her little Remus.

A small boy with a special condition. A small boy who was a werewolf.

End

Please leave me a review.

-Ella-

Disclaimer: Remus Lupin belongs solely to J.K. Rowling. I however, own Genevieve, Anna, and Freider, in case you were wondering. I also own the plot…duh…;)