By snickerdoodle131515
Summary: This is the story of young Remus Lupin, and how he received his werewolf bite, back on a snowy night in December of 1964. One-shot.
Warnings: Contains some HBP spoilers, and violence
Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, and do not own these characters.
A/N: I am following my Marauder theme of writing, and showing how I visualize Remus's attack that made him a werewolf, although J.K.'s situation could have been completely different, this is just how I see it happening. And if you think that Remus seems too smart for a five-year old, well, that's because he was!December 8, 1965
Five-year old Remus Lupin was sitting at a small oak table in his bedroom at the cottage where he lived with his mother and father, a small, two bed roomed home completely surrounded by woods in the outskirts of Nottingham. Remus quite liked his home, it had been built by his Muggle grandfather back when he was newly married and starting his own family. Remus had always loved the smell of cedar, and that was exactly how this home smelt. It was warm and comforting to Remus, especially in the cold winters, when he would return with his father after a day of enchanted snowball fights and sledding. He would enter the home and immediately smell the cedar, and he felt at home. Then his mother would swoop towards him, unwrapping the scarf from around his neck and helping him to remove snow boots and mittens, before setting Remus and his father down on the sofa with rich mugs of hot chocolate. She would then take all the damp, snowy coats, hats, mittens, scarves, and boots, and hang them by the fireplace to dry.
Remus looked up from his drawing, searching for his brown crayon. The drawing showed a happy stick figure family, smiling up at him, beside a large, sloppily drawn Christmas tree. There was a crooked fireplace in the background, where three stockings stood. In the stick figure Remus's hands he held a large mug of hot cocoa. All he had to do was color the trunk of the tree. Maybe when he finished, he could ask his father to enchant the drawing so that the pictures moved…
"Remus?" a familiar voice called.
Remus looked up from his drawing, to see his mother standing in the doorway. She smiled. "I see that you cleaned your room like I asked,"
"Yep! But I can't find Tubbles, I think I left him outside. I'll get him later." said Remus, referring to his favorite stuffed animal that he left outside. "And guess what, mum? I also started drawin' this picture!"
"Really?" his mother said in interest. She shut the curtains, where it was growing dark outside, and she could see the dim outline of a stuffed bear lying in the snow, which was slightly obscured by more falling snow. She stood behind Remus, patting his floppy brown hair as he proudly displayed his work of art.
"See, mummy?" said Remus, pointing. "I did it all by myself! That's you—" Remus indicated the stick figure with ridiculously long brown hair, who was holding a tray of hot chocolate and cookies. "And there's daddy—" he showed her the tall wizard he had drawn, wand in hand, magically levitating an angel to the top of the tree. "And there's me!" Remus finished, pointing to the grinning boy holding the mug.
There was a few moments of silence as Remus allowed his mother to take in the picture. Her eyes moved slowly around the drawing, taking in every detail, from the crooked stockings to the empty plate of cookies Remus had left for Santa. Remus bit his lip. "Well?" he said, tentatively, "Do you like it?"
His mother finally removed her gaze from the drawing, and she smiled. "Of course I like it, sweetheart. We can hang it on the fridge, and show daddy when he gets home. How does that sound?"
"Good." Replied Remus. "Do you think that daddy can make it so that the pictures move, like in the newspaper?"
"I'm sure he could."
"Okay, said Remus happily, as he finally colored in the trunk of the tree, and then threw the crayon down before proclaiming, "Done!"
Remus's mother sat down on the edge of her son's bed. "Is it almost time for dinner?" asked Remus, coming to sit by her.
"Yes. Your daddy should be home anytime now," she replied, as Remus laid his head in her lap.
"How come he doesn't fly home anymore?" asked Remus. He preferred this to Apparating, because he found it unsettling to hear a loud pop and have someone materialize out of nowhere.
"No, he'll Apparate, Remus."
"Why?" piped up Remus, in his high-pitch, five-year old voice.
"Because Apparating is quicker, and when your father finishes a day of work, he wants to get home sooner than it would take to fly," she explained patiently.
"But isn't flying more fun?" asked Remus, who had always been curious about flying. But his mother insisted that he not fly until he was a little older.
"Well, yes, I think it is," said his mother with a small smile. She herself, a Muggle, could not Apparate, but she quite enjoyed flying on the back of her husband's broom.
"I'm gonna learn to fly someday," said Remus groggily, his eyes closing slowly. "I'll learn at Hogwarts, I'll learn spells, and how to Apparate, and make potions, and…" but his mother never heard much else, because by then he had begun to snore.
They sat there for quite awhile. She continued to stroke Remus's hair and rub his back, while glancing worriedly at the clock. It was getting late, and John wasn't home, maybe there was a problem at the office, a hold-up. John Lupin worked at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry of Magic, but it wasn't often he came home late…
A few more minutes ticked by. Lorena Lupin sat, waiting—and then…
"LORENA!"
Lorena jumped a little, and Remus stirred slightly in his sleep. She gently praised the small boy's head up and rested it on her shoulder, and she hurried, carrying the sleeping Remus into the kitchen, towards her husband's calls.
"Lorena!" he called again, just as she came into view. "Remus—where's Re—"
"John!" gasped Lorena, "Shhhh!" she indicated the sleeping child. "What's wrong?"
John sank, trembling, into a chair, and indicated for his wife to sit down too. Lorena sat, looking scared and confused at her calm husband's lack of control. "What happened? What's wrong?" she repeated, cradling Remus's head in concern.
John raised a shaking hand and pushed his hair back. "I had a little trouble in the office today," he began, wiping his brow. "There was a little confrontation—well, that's an understatement—Fenrir Greyback was in my office—"
"The werewolf?" gasped Lorena. "That savage werewolf who attacks children?"
"The very same," John interjected. "He was demanding that we lift his probation. But, after that third attack, the evidence was too strong, we know it wasn't an accident. And we obviously can't lift the probation. We're watching him like a hawk. Well, things went downhill from there—there was a little scuffle, and things were said—I believe I may have offended him—" John stopped, unable to finish, his head in his hands.
Lorena's mouth was open in terror, her blue eyes wide. "He didn't, please say he didn't, please—"
"He did," said John slowly, painfully. "He said he would come after Remus." John finished in a defeated voice, as his wife gave a dry sob, clutching Remus closer.
"And when Fenrir makes threats, he means them," said John, now pouring himself some wine to calm his nerves. "He specializes in children. We need to take precautions. Remus must be in our sight at all times. Don't let him go outside, or stray, do you understand this, Lorena? It is so important—"
"I do," she whispered. "But you're gone during the day, I can't do magic, I can't protect him—"
"My department takes these threats very seriously, but there's no stopping Fenrir. I asked to take some time off for this very reason, and they agreed."
"Isn't he more likely to attack at night?" asked Lorena, in the same hushed tone.
"Yes. During the day, Greyback's obviously not full werewolf, but he can still do damage. But I'm home at night, we just have to be alert. He'll do the most damage on the full moon, when's he's a full fledged werewolf."
"And—" Lorena's voice trembled, afraid of the answer. "When is the full moon?" But she was afraid that she already knew the answer, hearing the warning to stay inside at night on the Wizarding Wireless Network that morning.
"Tonight," said John, his head in his hands. "The opportune moment to attack. Remus will be in our room tonight so we can watch him. I'm going to put some powerful protective shields on the house. That's all we can do."
The two adults sat in silence, contemplating the dilemma, as Remus slept peacefully, blissfully unaware of the danger he was in. Even the slightest noise outside would make both of them jump, as they sat, thinking…
Finally, John rose, withdrawing his wand from his robes pocket. "I'll be back," he said to Lorena. "Stay here with Remus. I'm going to secure the house." With that, he crossed the room boldly, wrenched the door open, and exited, closing the door firmly behind him.
John glanced around. The ground was thick with rich, white snow, and more was still falling. Remus's sled was propped up against the house, and there was a snowman in the middle of the yard. Remus, who was a very thoughtful, caring boy, and wrapped the snowman up in his own hat and scarf, so that it didn't catch cold. When his mother had asked where they were, he had simply replied that a strong gust had blown them away.
The house was completely surrounded by trees, some towering more than thirty feet above the home. The night seemed particularly dark. The stars shown extra bright, there were few clouds, and the moon loomed, bright and bold, and it seemed as though it were directly above their home.
John ignited his wand, and bravely roamed the yard, searching, knowing that at any moment, Fenrir Greyback could jump out and strike. After a few minutes of searching, he turned his back to the woods, and began to cast protective spells over the home, so that no intruders could penetrate the walls, even a werewolf.
John cast several spells, and with each spell, the house was brightly illuminated with a white-gold light, before returning to the original dark brown. When he had cast the last spell, John went back inside, and bolted the door.
While John checked the house to make sure every window was locked and secured, Lorena woke the drowsing Remus. "Wha's—where am—is it m-morning?" yawned Remus, rubbing his eyes. "I'm still tired, mummy, five more minutes.."
"Remus, it's still evening. I woke you up because you fell asleep before we could eat dinner. Are you still hungry?" asked his mother kindly.
"Uh-huh," said Remus, perking up instantly. "After dinner, can I have chocolate?"
His mother chuckled. "Of course."
As Remus ate his spaghetti and meatballs, his father was still pacing, and glancing at the windows.
"What's daddy doin'?" asked Remus, as he wound his spaghetti around his fork.
"He's—watching," said his mother, somewhat lamely, not wanting Remus to know about the threat of Greyback, for fear that he wouldn't get any sleep that night.
"Watchin' what?" asked Remus curiously, as he raised his glass of juice to his lips.
"Er—to see if the snow will let up—if it keeps coming down at this rate, we won't be able to open our front door tomorrow," laughed Lorena.
Remus's eyes widened. "Could that really happen?"
"It could," his mother shrugged. "But don't worry, it's not likely."
"Daddy," Remus yelled. "You can come sit down and eat dinner now! Mummy says don't worry, 'cuz it won't snow so much that it'll block the door, and we can't get outside! So come and eat dinner, silly!"
Remus looked back to his spaghetti, and giggled, "He worries too much,"
Lorena bit her lip, silently disagreeing with her child who knew nothing of the danger posed at him.
Remus finished eating, and his mother cleared up the plates. By then, Remus's head was on the table again, and he was snoring, an empty Honeyduke's Best Chocolate wrapper in his hand.
"Doesn't he look sweet?" asked Lorena, as she and her husband stood side by side. John nodded. "He is a handsome young lad," he agreed, but he still couldn't help worrying about Greyback…
Later that night, Remus dozed in his parent's bedroom, while his mother slept on his right, and on his left, his father sat, awake and alert, wand firmly in his hand under the covers. His eyes scanned the room, his ears listened for the slightest sound of movement. But a hard day's work was also fighting his consciousness. He fought hard to stay awake, but it had been a long day, and he had worked overtime, and there had been chaos at the office, he couldn't even count how many memos and howlers the office got today, and then Greyback showed up….
And before he knew it, his head flopped back on the pillows, and he was instantly asleep. His right hand's grip went slack on the wand, and the family slept.
In his sleep, Remus felt around for Tubbles, his favorite stuffed animal that he had trouble falling asleep without. But he could not find Tubbles; perhaps he had fallen off the bed…
Remus opened his gold-brown eyes, and looked around the room. But it was not his room, it was his parent's room. What was he doing here? Did he have a nightmare, but couldn't remember coming here? Whatever happened, Tubbles wasn't here, and Remus knew he couldn't fall asleep again without it. Remus wracked his brains—where had he last seen the bear? He didn't have it when he was coloring his picture, or at dinner. Then he remembered—he had taken the bear outside. Remus climbed over his father's sleeping frame, and walked barefoot down the hall.
How did I get in my pajamas? Remus wondered, as he saw he was wearing blue plaid pajamas. Remus pulled on his snow boots that were sitting beside the now dead fire. He didn't bother putting on his coat, he would just nip outside, grab his bear, and run back in…
Remus unbolted the door, and yanked the it open, and he stomped out into the snow. The first thing Remus noticed was that it was a very dark night, and the moon shone brightly above his house. He ran over to his snowman, who was still wearing the hat and scarf that Remus had dressed him in earlier. Remus saw that one of the snowman's buttons was falling off. Remus fixed the rock back into place, before resuming his search for Tubbles. Remus retraced his steps, searching for the poor little stuffed animal lost in the snow. Remus saw a bump in the snow, over by the trees. Remus ran towards it, turned around, his back to the woods, and began scooping the snow off what he suspected to be Tubbles. Remus gave a sigh of relief when he saw one of Tubble's black button eyes. Remus pulled the cold bear out of the snow, and hugged it fiercely, breathing in its familiar scent, mixed with the smell of pine trees behind him.
Remus inspected his bear. He was damp and cold, but otherwise, the same as always. Suddenly, Remus heard a strange sound—heavy, harsh breathing behind him—
Remus clutched the bear closer, his eyes shut tight, and slowly looked behind him, and opened his eyes, and he could never have been prepared for the sight that met his eyes. The first thing he saw was the large amber eyes watching him. His petrified gaze moved down to see a mouth full of yellow, razor-sharp teeth. Remus's eyes were wide, his teeth were chattering, and his breath came short, and somehow, he was not able to move from the spot, as he gazed at the fully grown werewolf in front of him. He wanted to scream, but surely he would be attacked. Would his parents hear him? If he turned around, would it go away, and leave him alone? Remus highly doubted this. Regretting that he hadn't waited till morning to grab Tubbles, Remus thought, On the count of three, I'll run. One—two—three!
Remus turned around, his mind still racing, and only moved about a foot before he felt something large and heavy leap at him. Remus finally found his voice, and he screamed louder than he had ever screamed in his life. He was knocked to the ground, and he hit his head quite hard. In his agony of nausea, Remus threw his small arms up to protect his head. The blow of the animal launching itself at him had taken quite a toll on Remus. It felt as though his back had cracked in the middle, and he had several broken ribs. The monster roughly turned Remus over so that he was lying on his back, the claws scathing his skin as he batted the small boy around as easily as a cat would bat a ball of yarn. Remus screamed louder and louder, as the animal ribbed into the flesh on his arms and legs viciously. It scratched his face, and tore at the skin on his chest. Remus's eyes rolled back in his head in agony, and his fingernails clawed deeply into the earth as he screamed in pain, tears and blood streaming down his face.
I wish I were dead, Remus pleaded. He had never felt pain like this before. Please, let it end, it hurts, it hurts! Mum, dad, help!
Remus, as though in another world, heard the front door bang open, two screams, and he was suddenly bathed in a blinding light from his father's wand. He could hear his mother sobbing, screaming in horror, but to Remus, he was already slipping away… his pain would soon be over… he couldn't tell if the blinding light was from his father's wand or heaven, they both blended together….
Remus heard a loud bang, and he felt the weight of the creature lifted off him. The snow around him was stained scarlet. Surely the creature killed him, he must be dead, who could survive and attack like that?
Remus felt himself lifted up put of the snow, and wrapped in a blanket, and after that, everything went dark.
Remus felt a cool cloth wiping his stinging face, and opened his eyes, to see a very unfamiliar room bathed in glorious morning sunlight. Remus ached all over. But if he could still feel pain, he was still alive, wasn't he? Remus wiggled his stiff fingers and toes, and was quite pleased to see that they still functioned, even if it was painful. Remus vaguely wondered why everything hurt so much. Then the memories of last night hit him like a tidal wave.
He had been attacked by that monster, and was still alive! He thought for sure he was dead! Not until then did he look up to see a smiling woman dressed in white robes. She had curly strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a tie, and she looked most relieved to see Remus awake.
"Oh, hello Remus! It's good to see you're awake now—"
"Where am I?" asked Remus in a hoarse voice that sounded quite unlike his own.
"You're at St. Mungos," answered the Healer patiently. "Your parents just left to bring you breakfast for when you came around,"
Remus looked at the ceiling, because he couldn't stand seeing the smiling Healer. The smile looked so fake to Remus. Remus wished she wouldn't smile like that. He knew how awful he looked, he could vaguely see his reflection in the window. He was pale, bruised, and cut. He didn't recognize himself, so why should this woman try to make light of the situation that was hopeless?
"Oh, I'm sorry! I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Healer Strauss."
"Hello," said Remus in a small, hoarse voice, trying his best to sound pleasant.
There was a few moments of silence as the Healer dabbed Remus's face with the cloth, the horrible, fake, Barbie-doll smile still plastered on her face. Remus finally found his voice. "Was the thing that attacked me a—a—werewolf?"
The Healer paused in her work. "Yes," she said airily.
"So, now am I a werewolf too?"
The Healer didn't answer, she only nodded curtly, and Remus felt as though the bottom of his stomach had dropped. He stared out the window, not really seeing anything, lost in his own thoughts, looking at the reflection of the broken boy in the glass…
And suddenly, the horrible realization dawned on him. He would probably never have another friend in the world. Who would want to be friends with a monster? The creature that Remus saw last night, he certainly wouldn't want to be friends with….
"Remus, you're awake!" Remus looked away from the window, to see his parents rushing towards him, his father carrying a breakfast tray.
His father deposited the tray on his bedside table, and Remus's mother and father sat at his bedside.
"Oh, Remus, we were so scared—" said his mother, as she kissed his forehead.
"Hungry, son?" asked John, indicating the tray of food.
"Yeah," said Remus, as the Healer placed the tray across his lap. Healer Strauss then dismissed herself from the ward, smiling horribly.
Remus surveyed the breakfast before him, his mouth watering. Bacon, sausage, little smokies….
"Healer Strauss said that after the attack, you would like to eat meat," said his father.
Remus had to admit that it did look good. He began to eat the bacon first. "So, I'm a werewolf now? I can't get better?"
His mother shook her head sadly, and his father looked at the floor. "Did you go outside to look for Tubbles?" asked his mother, regretting that she hadn't gone out to get it herself earlier.
"Uh-huh. I was by the trees, and then it jumped out and made me fall. Then he bit me over and over. It really hurt a lot. The werewolf was mean. I don't want to be the Big Bad Wolf, like in Little Red Riding Hood."
None of them were sure what to say after this, so they sat in silence. His mother's unbelieving grief seemed beyond words, his father blamed himself for everything. Both John and Lorena knew what this meant—their son could never leave a normal life. Headmaster Armando Dippet surely would never permit Remus to attend Hogwarts, where he would be a danger to the other children. Remus would never learn to be a wizard. He would be friendless, and feared by the whole community. He would be a danger to himself. He would most likely never get married or have children, all because of Fenrir Greyback.
Remus's recovery at St. Mungos was slow and painful, especially to a young boy like Remus, who's life had just changed forever.
Healer Strauss gave Remus numerous potions and ointments to heal the gashes covering his face, arms, legs, chest, and back. They saw some improvement—the wounds weren't nearly as red and inflamed, but Healer Strauss was afraid that the wounds would never fade entirely, and that Remus would always bear the scars of the attack to some degree.
Remus himself had changed as well. He seemed to be in his own little world at times, just thinking. Remus's whole life was turned upside down in less that five minutes, and he had an awful lot to think about for someone so young.
While Remus was pretending to be asleep, he had overheard his parents and Healer Strauss talking. His parents said that they weren't sure what to do with Remus when the moon was full. The Healer suggested that they get a cage for Remus, or build a shack to lock in him while he's a werewolf, so that he won't be a danger to others. Another Healer, a man, who Remus didn't know, was also discussing his options. He recommended a place that sounded awful to Remus—it was practically in the middle of nowhere, away from other humans. He said it was very secure, so that no one could get in or out while the moon was full. It had cells, like a jail, and it was where some werewolves came to transform. Remus didn't like any of these ideas—he was a boy, he had never seen his monster side. How could he be sure it existed? But he surely didn't want to be left alone in the dark in a cold cage, all alone…
Four days later, Remus was finally let out of St. Mungos to return home. As the family walked down the dirt trail that meandered through the trees, Remus couldn't help thinking that soon it would be him running loose in a forest, no different from any other animal.
Remus grabbed his mother's hand. "Mummy, when I turn into a werewolf, are you going to lock me in a cage?"
His mother and father exchanged startled looks. They did not know that Remus had been awake to hear the conversation. Remus hated the looks on their faces. He pulled his hat down with his free hand so that it covered his eyes, and he had to rely blindly on following his mother, as he couldn't see where he was going.
"No," his father said at last. "We're going to build a—a—shack, for you to go in while you're a werewolf." He glanced behind him. "Honey, look out!"
Lorena looked behind her to see her son with his blue knitted hat pulled down over his pale face, covering his eyes. He had slightly strayed from the trail, and was about to collide with a tree. His mother jerked him out of the tree's path and back onto the trail. "Pull your hat up off your eyes, Remus."
Remus obeyed, wincing at the pain as the hat went back over to his wounded forehead. St. Mungos couldn't heal the cuts very well, as treating werewolf bites was very difficult.
"You're not going to send me to that place with all the werewolves together, are you?" asked Remus.
"No, we didn't think that would be a good idea," John said, looking away.
When the front lawn came into view, the first thing Remus saw was the patch of red by the trees, where the monster had attacked him. The snow there was mostly melted and slushy, but it had snowed more since then. With a shock of dread, Remus saw Tubbles lying in the blood, his head severed, his button eyes torn off, white stuffing everywhere…
"Tubbles!" Remus cried, rushing over to the bear. "He's ruined!"
"Oh dear," his mother said behind him. "We could fix him—"
"No!" Remus yelled, holding the bear, kneeling in the snow, as more snow fell into his hair and on his traveling cloak. "He's wrecked. He'll never be the same again!"
Remus stared at the blood, and at his own hands, incased in wounds. Then he stared at the mangled bear. "This is all your fault, Tubbles! Look what you made it do to us!"
And with that, Remus threw the bear into the trees unceremoniously, and ran into the house, howling.
"Oh dear," said his mother, looking hopelessly at the door that Remus had just slammed. "I need to have a talk with him…" She hurried after Remus into the cottage.
John raised his wand, and pointed it in the direction of the trees. "Accio Tubbles!"
The mangled bear flew out of the trees and into John's arms. Two black buttons also flew into the air, which he caught deftly in his left hand, and he made a sweeping motion with his wand, and pointed it at the bloody ground. "Evanesco!" and the blood magically vanished. He pocketed his wand and followed his wife and son into the cottage.
When John entered the home, he found Remus lying facedown on the sofa, sobbing uncontrollably, his breathing sharp and fast. Lorena was sitting beside Remus, trying to say words of comfort. "Calm down, it'll be alright, Remus."
She looked up hopelessly at her husband and the bear in his hands. "Help," she whispered, as she rubbed Remus's shaking back. Remus looked up briefly, his face red and tear strained, his eyes bloodshot. He saw the bear and cried louder.
"Tubbles!" he screamed. "Tubbles!"
John tapped the bear once with his wand. The bear's severed head swung up so that it wasn't flopping around hopelessly. And then it was as though an invisible hand was stitching up the bear, and it's head rejoined with its body. The stuffing flew back into the bear, and stitched itself up. With another tap of the wand, the blood stains were removed, and finally, the bear's button eyes stitched themselves back into place. John showed Remus the bear. "There, good as new!"
Remus's chin wobbled up and down, before he cried, "It's so easy to fix Tubbles. Why couldn't they fix me up that easy? Tubbles doesn't have to be a werewolf!"
Remus jumped away from his mother's outstretched arms, and past his father and Tubbles, down the hall, and to his room. He slammed the door after him, and sank into his bed, still breathing hard.
"He needs some time to himself to think," said John, as his anxious wife rose to run and comfort their son. "Let him be alone. This is something he needs to figure out on his own."
Lorena bit her lip, looking worried, but sank back into her chair, looking hopeless and lost beyond words. "Are we going to tell him about Greyback?"
John had his face in his hands, and slowly he shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "We'll tell him when he's older. But at the moment, he has enough to think about."
A week later, Remus was beginning to come out of his room more often, having thought about his situation and sort out his feelings for days. He visited with his parents more, though he didn't want to talk about his lycanthropy. But on this day, he couldn't just ignore it.
A strange noise woke Remus the next day. He heard hammering outside, and the sound of things being swished magically through the air. Remus jumped out of bed, curious, and slipped on his snow boots and a jacket.
His mother looked startled to see Remus dressed to go outside for the first time in a week. "Remus, where are you going?" she asked, surprised.
"Outside," Remus answered. "I heard a funny noise. I'll be right back."
"Oh, it's just your father."
"What's he doing?"
"Building," said his mother, offhandedly, as she stirred a pot of oatmeal.
Remus tramped out into the snow, and to the side of the cottage next to his bedroom window. His father was waving his wand and directing boards and nails into a structure. Remus thought he knew what his dad was building, but he had to ask.
"Are you building that for me?" asked Remus in a small voice.
His father jumped, surprised. Remus had walked up so silently that his father had not heard him. In his alarm, all the wood and nails stopped in midair and dropped to the ground rather loudly.
"Remus!" his father exclaimed. "You gave me quite a scare! You're up early!"
Remus shrugged, and repeated his question. "Is that thing for me?"
His father looked rather awkward. John ran a hand through his tawny brown hair. "Yes," he said, finally.
"Oh," said Remus in the same small voice. "I guess it's better than being in a cage."
Before his father could respond, Remus trudged back inside, his head down. He ate his breakfast in silence. When he finished, he said to his mother, "I'm going sledding, if that's okay. I want to try and make a friend." Remus wanted to see if he really was doomed to a life of loneliness, or if he could actually find a friend.
Lorena looked rather taken aback. "Really? That's great, honey! It would be good for you to get out and get some fresh air!" she exclaimed, as Remus began putting his snow gear back on.
Remus wrapped his scarf securely around his neck, and reached for the door knob.
"Remus?" He turned to hear what his mother wanted to say. "Yes?"
Lorena took a deep breath. "Don't stray far," she pleaded. "And whatever you do, don't tell the other children about your—condition, all right?"
"Sure mum," said Remus, mustering a smile.
As Remus was getting his sled from the front of the house, he noticed that the shack was coming along quite well. It did have to be ready for the full moon…
Remus went to the snowy hills near his house. He was just crossing the white street to head up the hill when he heard a young voice shout, "LOOK OUT!"
Remus jumped, but didn't move quick enough. A young boy who was wearing all white and looked like a marshmallow came barreling down the street on his sled. The front of the sled hit Remus's ankles, flipping him over and knocking him flat, Remus had also hit his head, and felt a horribly familiar feeling of nausea. "Ow," he groaned.
"Are you all right?" gasped the marshmallow kid. "I'm sorry—I didn't see you—"
The boy appeared to be his age, but Remus couldn't really tell. His vision was blurry and he was seeing stars. "Fine," Remus mumbled.
The boy held out his hand and helped Remus up. Remus could now see that marshmallow boy had blue eyes, and from underneath his hat he could see strands of dirty blond hair.
"Really sorry about that, mate," said the boy. "I'm David, by the way."
"Remus," he responded, rubbing his head, and reaching down to grab his sled that had skidded away.
"Hello, Remus." David took a good look at Remus's face and his jaw dropped. "What happened to you?"
Remus felt the raised cuts on his face that were slowly healing. "Oh—nothing."
"That's not nothing," said the boy. "You must have a really bad cat."
"Actually, it's a dog," Remus muttered, his face red.
"Really?" said the boy in excitement. "I've always wanted a dog."
"Well, you can have mine…" said Remus, managing a fake laugh that David joined in with.
"Where do you live, Remus?"
"Over there," said Remus, pointing down the road and past the trees. "The little cottage. And you?"
"There," said David, pointing to a large colonial house across the street. "You should come over and play Quidditch with us sometime."
Remus smiled. "That would be great!" Maybe making friends wasn't so hard after all.
"My sister, Gloria, likes to play with us too. And Anthony down the street usually plays Keeper."
"What do you play?" asked Remus in interest.
"I play Beater," said David proudly, puffing out his chest. "My sister and her friend Margaret play Chasers. My friend Quinn is also a Beater, and his sister Janet plays Chaser. Maybe you could be our Seeker."
Remus couldn't believe he was already being invited to play Quidditch! Maybe he wasn't such a social reject after all. "That sounds great!" he said happily. "But…" his smile faltered. "I don't know how to fly."
"Why not?" demanded David.
"Because my mum wants me to wait till I'm older," said Remus honestly.
"Oh," said David, his smile also fading. "But we can teach you, she doesn't have to know."
"Oh, that's all right. I think I'd prefer watching. I don't think I'd be very good at flying."
"Oh," said David. "But we can do other things! Like Gobstones and Exploding Snap, and Wizard Crackers!"
"That would be fun!" Remus exclaimed, and he sat on his sled on the side of the road while David ran into his house to get some Wizard Crackers.
"Here you are," said David, emerging with an armful of the holiday treats. He tossed one to Remus.
"Ready?" asked David, depositing all but one cracker onto his sled. "One—two—three!"
Remus and David both pulled their Wizard Crackers. With two loud bangs, lots of purple sparks and smoke, gifts emerged from the crackers. When the smoke faded, Remus saw that he had been left with a large chocolate bar and a stuffed animal that was nearly identical to Tubbles. The sight of the bear made Remus's eyes tear up again, and he tried to hide it from David.
"Look what I got!" exclaimed David. "Blimey! A biting teacup and this deck of magical playing cards—Remus, what's wrong?"
Remus wiped his eyes furiously, as he threw the bear into the snow.
"What, you don't like teddies?" asked David skeptically.
Remus sat down, and David joined him. Remus took a deep breath. David seemed to be his friend, why not tell him?
"Nearly a fortnight ago," Remus began, wiping his eyes and staring into the sky. "I left my bear, Tubbles outside. I went out in the night to get him. But after I found the bear, I was attacked."
David gasped. "By what?"
"A werewolf." Answered Remus, and David looked horrified. "That's why my face looks like this, David. I'm a werewolf. Please don't tell anyone else. You're my friend, right? It's okay, I'd never hurt anyone, I just need a friend…"
"You're a werewolf!" whispered David, stunned, as he rose off the ground. "Really? No kidding? It wasn't your dog?" he was speaking very quickly.
"Nope," said Remus, pulling up his sleeve. "Here, I'll show you." He turned his arm so that David could see the deep imprints of a pair of jaws right on the underside of his arm, below his elbow. "See?"
David gave a horrible scream, turned tail, and ran up the street, and into his house, leaving the sled behind.
Remus looked sadly down at his arm, knowing that he had been stupid to tell David. What had he expected, complete acceptance and understanding? Remus knew now, that he would never have a friend, it he didn't tell them, they'd all find out eventually…
For the umpteenth time that month, Remus felt a surge of anger, sadness, and sickening, shameful self-pity, as large tears fell onto his arm, and he turned to head home.
"It hurts," Remus moaned, as he lay in bed, covered in sweat and running a high fever, the evening of the full moon.
"Shhhh, honey, I know," said his mother comfortingly as she rubbed his forehead with a cold cloth. "But there's nothing we can do."
"It's taking over," Remus gasped. "The wolf. I don't feel right— my head hurts, my back hurts, my tummy hurts…"
John surveyed his five-year old son with nothing but grief and guilt apparent on his face. This was all his fault. If he hadn't lost his temper with Greyback, this wouldn't have happened. He knew he could have handled the situation better, but he didn't. And there was nothing he could do about it now. It would be unwise to go after Greyback. He might even come back to finish Remus off.
Remus screamed. "Make it stop, make it STOP!"
"Lorena, I think it's time!" John shouted. He scooped up his son and carried him out of the house, where the world was glowing from the light of the full moon. He deposited his already transforming son into the shack, and magically bolted the door before going back inside, silently praying that Remus wouldn't inflict too much self-damage.
"MUMMY!" Remus screamed, as he writhed in pain. He felt his spine elongating, and twisting madly. His stomach churned, his head lengthened, his hands turned into clawed paws, and he could feel hair sprouting on his face, as his nose became wet and snout-like…
The werewolf rose, and gave an almighty howl. He sniffed the air eagerly. There were people close by, he could smell them. The wolf rammed against the wall that was separating him from his prey. The wall wouldn't budge. He tried again. It didn't work. He gave a howl of rage and bit his front leg in fury, and yelping in pain. But there was blood… nice, warm blood…
He bit his leg, and his tail, and gnawed as far as he could reach on his shoulder. Blood, blood, BLOOD! His swiped his paw against his muzzle. Then he smelt something… humans were very near.
"Are you sure this is the place, David?" asked Anthony, a large, gangly, red head boy, around ten years old.
"Yes," said David with confidence. "He pointed over here. There! In the shack! I heard a howl…"
"Me too," said a young, curly haired blonde girl named Gloria. "I'm scared, David…"
"Yeah," said a black-haired girl named Margaret. "I'm scared too. Let's go home!"
"No," said the oldest, Quinn, a new eleven-year old. "I want to see the little monster."
The group edged closer to the shack, and the walls shook menacingly. Gloria and Margaret let out frightened sniffles.
"There's a small window up there," said Quinn, pointing. "David, get on my shoulders, have a look at your little friend…"
David was helped onto Quinn's shoulders by Anthony. Balancing unsteadily, he peaked into the window, and screamed. The small werewolf looked up at David and bared its red teeth, it's yellow eyes menacing, it's body covered in blood. The wolf rammed against the wall, shaking the window. He threatened to knock the wall down…
"RUN!" David screamed. Quinn ran, and David fell off his shoulders backwards with a sickening sound. The children began screaming as they helped David up.
"Who's out there?" shouted John, emerging out of the house, his wand raised. The children screamed louder. "GET OUT OF HERE!" Bellowed John. "Go home!" He fired some bangs out of his wand to scare them off.
The children turned tail and ran, still screaming at the top of their lungs. Shaking his head, John glanced at the shack, before heading back inside.
The wolf was furious for letting his prey get away, he must punish himself…
The wolf had now lost too much blood.
I feel dizzy, Remus thought, somewhere inside the wolf, before he fainted.
"Drink this," John forced a blood replenishing potion down Remus's throat. The boy was so weak he could barely raise his head. He was covered in injuries that were as bad as he had received a month ago when he got the bite.
"Remus," asked his mother in her kindest voice, not wanting to scare her already traumatized child. "Did you tell anyone?"
Remus closed his eyes and nodded. "They came last night, didn't they?" he said, his voice just a hoarse whisper.
"They ruddy well did," said his father angrily. "Five or six of them, all young… I had to scare them off."
"I'm sorry," Remus whispered. "I thought David was my friend. Now I see that I really can't tell anybody, I'll never have a friend. Nobody will understand."
When Remus was well enough to get out of bed, he went to his box of crayons, and picked out gray, yellow, black, and red.
He went to the fridge, where his last piece of art was proudly displayed. With his gray crayon, he scribbled all over the stick drawing of himself. He made mean yellow eyes, and a mouth full of sharp teeth dripping blood. In his sloppy handwriting, Remus wrote, "THE MONSTER."
1971
Six years had passed, and Remus was now eleven years old. But unlikely most eleven year old wizards, Remus was not looking forward to his summer. Unlike most boys, he would not be receiving his letter to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Remus was sitting gloomily in the kitchen, reading one of his mother's favorite Muggle books, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. He looked up when he heard the door knock.
His father, who had the day off from work, went to answer it. "Albus!" he cried. "Remus, come here!"
Remus and his mother exchanged bewildered glances, before following John's summons. Remus looked in the doorway, and saw a very old man who he recognized from his chocolate frog cards—Albus Dumbledore. The man was very tall and thin, with long silver hair and beard. He had a friendly, smiling face, with twinkling blue eyes behind half moon spectacles. He was wearing gold and purple robes, and a blue pointed wizard's hat. With some amusement, Remus saw that he was wearing purple buckled boots.
"Ah, young Remus Lupin!" said Dumbledore merrily, extended his hand, which Remus shook.
"Hello, Sir." Said Remus respectfully.
"Ah, such nice manners. You've raised him well." Dumbledore reached into his pocket, and showed Remus a handful of different colored candies. "Care for some sweets, Remus?"
"Yes, thank you, Sir." Said Remus, taking a single gold-wrapped sweet.
Dumbledore offered some sweets to Remus's parents, which they accepted, rather awkwardly.
"Would you like some tea, Albus?" asked Remus's mother.
"Why, yes, Lorena, that would be lovely," said Dumbledore pleasantly.
"Remus, this is Albus Dumbledore," said John. "He taught Transfiguration while I was at Hogwarts."
"I have a chocolate frog card with your picture," said Remus.
"Ah, yes," laughed Dumbledore. "I am very fond of those sweets, but I am fond of all sweets, yes. Except for Bertie Bott's—I once came across a vomit flavored one, and I quite like telling this story—Aberforth told me it was spaghetti—"
At that moment Lorena arrived with tea. "Thank you," said Dumbledore gratefully.
"Now Remus, I think I will leave that delightful tale and get back to what I wanted to tell you. I have replaced the recently deceased Armando Dippet as Headmaster of Hogwarts. And I understand that you are a polite, kind, and intelligent boy, who happens to be a werewolf. But I do not think that this should prevent you from getting your magical education."
Remus looked shocked and pleasantly bewildered, and he listened to the Headmaster continue.
" We can take certain measures to allow you to attend the school. We have it arranged, it you except, to build a house especially for your use in Hogsmeade, accessible from the Hogwarts grounds by a tunnel. We will place a Whomping Willow at the foot of the tunnel, so that no other students will be harmed. You will be excused from classes during the full moon, and will be able to attend as a regular Hogwarts student, if you accept, that is." Dumbledore finished pleasantly.
Remus was at a loss for words. "Really? You'll let me go to school?"
"I would assume that's a 'yes,'" chuckled Dumbledore, smiling at Remus's beaming parents. John looked most proud, and Lorena wiped her eyes furiously, beaming.
"Yes, thank you, Professor!" Remus cried, as Dumbledore handed Remus a letter with a purple wax seal. In emerald green writing it said;
Mr.R. Lupin
The kitchen, littlest cottage by the woods
Nottingham
Smilingfrom ear to ear, Remus opened his letter:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
Of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Lupin,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagoll,
Deputy Headmistress
Remus couldn't believe it, he would be going to Hogwarts—he could be normal, as close to normal as possible. He would be able to get a magical education, a job, and for the first time in his life, friends…
This was the start of something new and great, Remus could feel it.
The End
A/N: I finished at exactly 1:00 in the morning, and it's my birthday! Hooray!-
This story took a few days to write, and I wrote the whole thing while suffering from post HBP depression, waiting for the next book, and the dreaded writer's block.
I hope you liked this story—please forgive any spelling or factual mistakes, I was really tired while I wrote this.
Please Read and Review! And if you didn't like it, no flames please! It's my birthday!