Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters (Remus Lupin so far). They belong to J.K Rowling, a wonderful author.
Dedications: I'd like to dedicate this whole story that I'm going to be writing, to one of my bestest best friends: Eve. And to a few other good friends (you know who you are).
Being Accepted
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He was cold.
Not only that, but there was a great thunderstorm outside and Remus was purely scared, and tired, and still shocked by his Mother's death.
"The boy hasn't talked since his Mother died....is there something you can do?" he had heard his Father whisper to some strange man when they had first arrived at the Leaky Cauldron.
It was now a few days after they had left their Muggle home, and his Father left him here in this room all day, every day, with someone to look after him, until he came back from where ever he went.
"I'm not sure Thomas, it is still quite early to be worrying about this sort of stuff. He's young, he'll get over it..." The man had whispered back, shrugging.
Get over it? What was it with people wanting him to just cheer up and go on? His Dad had talked to plenty of wizards and witches to help him, and he had even hired a kind witch to act like a Mother for him.
That hadn't worked though. Nothing would. He didn't want a fake mother. He wanted his real Mother.
Why had his Father killed Mum though? That was what Remus was bothered most by. When he tried asking that question though, his Father silenced him with a yell.
So Remus gave up that option.
He had been punished when they were driving away from home by his Father, half way down the road, so no one would hear him scream. His Father really disliked being hated....by anyone, and especially his only son.
No. I'm not his son. I used to be his son, until I turned into a wolf.
Remus let out a small whimper and stared out of the window, as lightning lit up the almost black sky, and thunder drummed along the clouds, like his Father's bellowing voice. That was why he hated thunderstorms. Just like his Father.
The storm had kept young Remus awake until midnight, and an hour after. He was tired, but whenever he had tried to fall asleep, the bellowing voice of his Father rang through his head, and startled him awake.
If Mother was here then she would make it better. She'd sing to me, and make the voice go away. She always makes scary things go away, the young werewolf thought to himself.
When the storm rolled away, taking its spears of white light with it, and bellowing voices, Remus finally had the chance to fall asleep, gathering the light blanket his father had let him use, and covering his shivering body with it. He lay his head down on the pillow, and fell asleep on the small room's floor, across the room that his Dad was sleeping on, in his warm bed.
It was five hours later that Remus was awakened by violent shaking. At first he thought that it was part of his dream, and had tried to kick the "monster" away.
Unfortunately, the monster was his Father, and he had been kicked in the leg by his son. "You...little-" Thomas gritted his teeth and grabbed Remus by the collar his shirt, nearly throwing him into the wall, but landing short. "You little beast! Why couldn't you just listen to me and stay out of that forest?" he snapped at Remus angrily, before stomping across the room, and walking out, slamming the door behind him.
Remus sat up, rubbing the back of his head and looking around him, not really sure on what had just happened. Apparently his Father had thrown him across the room though, and he had landed here.
It wasn't like Remus wasn't used to his Father reminding him of when he had wandered off into the forest behind their house, and gotten himself turned into "a little beast...creature" (as his Father would say). But it was how he had just thrown him, like that was all he was. A beast. Well what was the point of calling them werewolves, if Father was just going to call him a beast all the time?
He wouldn't worry about that now. His Father had gone off to get the Daily Prophet and would be back soon. So it was Remus' duty to clean up the room, and make the beds and such.
Often, while Remus was cleaning up, and making the room look nicer, he pretended Mum was here with him, telling him where to put the sheets, and how to make the bed look nice.
It calmed him down a bit, and sometimes Remus thought that she was really there with him, helping him.
After the fifteen minutes that it took to make the bed, and put away the sheets, and clean up last night's dinner that they had eaten in here, he was finally finished with the job.
Father should be back soon, Remus thought to himself, letting out a short sigh and walking over to one of the windows that was in the room. Everything outside was soaking wet, and the weather was very overcast.
He didn't really mind the foggy weather. It sort of matched his mood, actually.
Sighing and leaning his forehead against the glass window, he watched people hurry in and out of the London streets.
"Muggles, they are..."
"How can you tell the difference between muggles and magic folk, Father?"
"Eh? You'll figure it out..I have to get going now. Clean up this mess...."
The previous days's conversation had consisted merely of those words. Only those words. Remus didn't talk much unless he needed to ask a question or something.
The boy still hadn't deciphered the difference between magic folk and muggles, and he really didn't care much now.
The door opened, and Remus was cut short of his thoughts, like a twig being broken in half.
Thomas didn't bother to say thanks.
Remus didn't expect a thank you either.
"Father?" Remus asked quietly, taking his eyes away from the people down in the London streets, and turning to face his Father, who had just closed the small room's door. "Eh? What?" he asked gruffly, carrying the Daily Prophet under one arm and a cup of morning coffee in his other hand.
The boy took a step forward, and sat down on the ground, waiting for his Father to set his coffee and paper down on the small round table. He watched his Father carefully, taking his cloak off from his shoulders, and flinging it over onto the bed, after setting his cup of coffee and his daily paper on the table. Getting himself comfortable, Thomas Lupin took a sip from his coffee, and unfolded the paper.
"Father," Remus repeated quietly.
"Hm?" the man replied distractedly, as he was already indulged in a rather interesting article about a few Ministry workers...and blah blah.
A slight smile crossed Remus' lips as he thought for a moment. "My birthday is in a few days, Father. Mother always celebrated it. Are we going to celebrate my birthday this time too?" he asked hopefully. He had the whole plan set out, too. They would celebrate his birthday in here, and Remus would get a present from Mother, and he'd get a present for Mother too. He had always celebrated his birthdays like that. Normally Remus would write a poem for his Mother, and draw a picture for her, which she always kept in her jewelry box.
"Howcome you never have any jewelry in your jewelry box, Mother?"
"I do, Remmy. I do." Here she would open up her jewelry box and show Remus.
"All I see are my pictures and poems...."
"That's the jewelry, Remus. Those are my jewels, my memories of you from when you were a little child, and to now."
"I thought you were supposed to wear jewelry though?"
"I do. I wear your poems in my voice, and in my actions. In my mind I wear your pictures. Jewelery dosen't have to always be worn on the outside, Remmy."
"No. It will cost too much. Besides, your Mother was a fool to celebrate a wolf's birthday. No. Lupin, how does this house look? Do you like it?" Thomas replied, shrugging. He didn't wait for Remus' answer though, and Remus wasn't going to give him an answer either.
"Can I go outside, Father?" Remus asked quietly. "No. Stop asking me questions. The weather is dreadful out there, and you'll get lost in the crowd," his Father muttered, sighing.
As much as Remus didn't want to admit it, his Father was right. The weather was dreadful, and he would most likely get lost in the crowd.
Remus sighed and fiddled around with a pencil that he had found on the streets of London. It was broken in half, and there was no eraser, but he could do without and eraser. "Father? Do we have any paper?" Remus asked, standing up from the ground and looking around for any parchment.
"No, Lupin. We don't have paper anywhere," Thomas answered boredly, still reading his copy of the Daily Prophet.
Remus frowned slightly and looked around the room for anything that he could draw on. He tore off the paper/cloth tag from the bed sheet, and sat down again on the ground, with his broken pencil in his right hand, and the tag from the sheets on the ground infront of him, with the back facing up so he could draw on the plain white side of the tag.
The boy immediately began to draw. When he was finished, the picture was barely visible, because the lead of the pencil couldn't show up too clearly on the cloth/paper tag, but the image was clear enough in his young mind.
There were a few flowers on each side and a tree in the middle, with a bird on one of the branches.
He would have drawn more, but there was no room left for him to draw on.
Remus yawned and stood back up, shoving his small drawing in his jeans pocket, before walking over to the window. "Father, can I see the magic world now?" he asked quietly, turning around to face his Father.
"Tomorrow," the man answered absent-mindedly, flipping a page in his newspaper.
Tomorrow? Remus repeated in his mind, smiling slightly. He wondered if they were going to stay in this room forever. Or maybe they'd find a house in the wizarding world.
"I'm going out. I'm leaving Marissa here with you today, so be good." After that, Mr. Lupin stood up, drank the rest of his coffee, folded up his paper, and walked out of the room.
Sighing, Remus walked over to the small table, and took out his pencil. He would draw on the table until "Miss Marissa" got here.
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Not too many days later, his Father had found a nice house, and in that time, Remus had seen some of the magic world, and had had as much fun as he could.
So today was now May twenty seventh, of the year 1970, and Remus was eleven years old.
Why didn't Father celebrate my birthday? he thought, as he sat down at the table that afternoon with a cream-coloured parchment infront of him, and his old pencil in his hand. Father had bought him a few pieces of paper to keep him out of the way for a while, while he went and bought the house. Marissa was sick today, so Remus was left with another lady, who was about thirty years older and had a raspy voice. He always had to call her ma'am though, or she wouldn't pay attention to him.
"Mother would keep these in her jewelry box, you see? Every birthday I drew her a picture and wrote her a poem, and she would keep them. Will you do the same, ma'am?" he asked quietly, looking up from his half finished drawing, and over at "Ma'am" who was sitting in one of the room's chairs near the window, reading a book quietly. "Maybe, Remus. I'm a bit busy at the moment though," she answered quietly, looking over at Remus, and giving him a faint smile.
"Ma'am" was Remus' favorite out of the "Mothers" that his Father had hired for him. Even if she wasn't very talkative, she was much older, and knew a lot more than he did, which he liked.
"Your Father is buying you two a house in the wizarding world today, correct?" she asked Remus after a while.
Remus nodded, and continued drawing.
"Has he shown it to you yet?"
Remus shook his head. "Will you come visit me, ma'am?"
She smiled at this. "Maybe, Remus. May I see your drawing?"
"It isn't finished yet," he answered, shrugging.
It wasn't long before Mr. Lupin opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron room that Remus was in, looking very proud of himself. "Pack up, Lupin. We're leaving tomorrow for our new home."
Remus looked up at his Father, blinking. "Can we go back home and bring my books along?" he asked quietly.
"No, stupid. We'd be caught going back there, and the muggles would get suspicous. Now, go pack your stuff," Thomas answered glaring at Remus.
The boy nodded, and got up from his seat, walking over to his suitcase and packing up his clothes and drawings. Ma'am had already left about five minutes earlier, so she wouldn't know about them leaving. He sighed and finished up his packing, closing his suitcase softly, and walked back over to his drawing. He had already written a poem on the back of the paper, and was just finishing up his drawing, as his Father got out his own suitcase and packed up his clothes and other things.
Before the sun fell that night, there was a faint tapping noise at their window, and Remus got up from his chair to see what it was, but his Father got there first. A great barn owl swooped through the open window, and dropped a letter at the place before Remus on the table, covering his drawing. The lettering was very fancy, but Remus could read it with ease.
Mr. R. Lupin
Number six, second floor
Leaky Cauldron
Tryley Street
London
That was odd...he never got letters. Remus hadn't had any friends back in the muggle neighborhood he had lived in just a few days earlier. "What's that?" his Father snapped, walking over to him and snatching up his letter. "I got a letter, Father. May I open it?" he asked, looking up at his Father hopefully, as he read the address carefully, and frowned.
"Fine, open it. Don't get your hopes up though," Thomas answered, tossing the letter back to Remus, who caught it, and turned it over, opening up the envelope with care.
He pulled out a piece of parchment that had been folded into thirds, and opened it up first, reading quietly to himself.
Hogwarts School
of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore.
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Remus stopped reading here, and looked up at his father questioningly, who just waved an impatient hand in the direction of Remus' letter. "Read on," he said, which Remus obeyed.
Dear Mr. Lupin,
We are please to inform you that you have been accepted
at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You will
find enclosed a list of all necassary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await you owl by no
later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
"I've been accepted to a wizarding school?" Remus asked, smiling widely despite himself, as he turned to face his father.
"Not just a wizarding school. One of the best....though I had Headmaster Dippet. I see he must have died, or resigned," his Father muttered, shrugging. "I'd like to see how Dumbledore is going to house a werewolf though..." Thomas muttered, shaking his head.
"May I write back?" Remus asked, almost hesitantly, afraid of his Father yelling at him for being so stupid.
"If it'll keep you off my hands, then fine. Wait until we move into our new home though, would you?"
Remus nodded, and took out another smaller piece of parchment out of the envelope, which included all of the things Remus had to buy for school. "Do we have enough money for all of this?"
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Please R/R, don't flame me...it's my first attempt at writing a story mainly about one character, so advice would be nice! Thanks for reading!