Once Bitten, Twice Shy

by Voltora

One bite and young Remus Lupin's life was changed forever by the curse of lycanthropy. Hated, feared and despised by wizardkind, he must learn to come to terms with his condition. But can he find the strength inside to survive?

6. The Transformation

Author's Note: I would like to give credit to Rage Point for posting a medical insight of the affects that the lycanthropic transformation has upon it's sufferers at , and for Green Eyed Lady for e-mailing it to me months ago. (Thank goodness I hoard e-mails!) It was an indisputable asset to writing this chapter, so many thanks to you both. Voltora

Chapter Six: The Transformation.

One woe doth tread upon another's heels, so fast they follow

William Shakespeare; Hamlet.

The tension at Bramble-Down was running higher with each passing day. By the end of the week the atmosphere was so unfriendly that conversation had been whittled down to the absolute minimum whenever it could not be avoided completely.

Since hearing his grandmother's cruel, but honest opinion about him, Remus had stayed out of everyone's way, including his parents. It had finally sunk in that that was what people wanted; for him not to be anywhere near them. Thus Remus spent the next few days either hiding down the bottom of the garden, or sitting in a corner of his grandfather's study, quietly listening to the radio. He made a few half-hearted attempts to read some of the books, but most of them were dull and full of long, complicated words that he'd never heard of nor understood, and he soon gave up.

His father left the house early every morning and only returned late in the evening, often speaking quietly to Diane after Margaret and Phillip had gone to bed. The Support Services were trying to find somewhere for them to go, but with each passing day Diane's hope turned to anxiety as Julian returned each time with no news.

Remus, too, was growing restless. He'd all but lost his appetite and felt constantly tired; something his parents noticed with increasing unease.

Finally, barely two days before the full moon, Julian heard from the Support Services.

Not a work was spoken by the Woodmeres as they observed the Lupins gathering their belongings that evening and placing them in the hallway before going to bed. Without being told, Remus silently did the same, feeling relieved that they were leaving at last. The expression of disgust on his grandmother's face when she looked at him had forever tainted his memories of this place.

Early the following morning, the Lupins ate a hasty breakfast of egg and toast before Diane took Remus' hand and led him out of the house, his father carrying their things.

As they walked away down the path, Remus tentatively looked back over his shoulder. Two dark silhouettes at the upstairs windows slowly withdrew, the net curtains falling back into place.

Once the Lupins were beyond the anti-Apparition field, Julian drew his little family close, and waved his wand. In the blink of an eye, they were gone.

-o-

The little cottage wasn't much to look at. It was very rundown and clearly needed a lot of work. The roof was missing several tiles and the crooked chimney appeared ready to topple at the slightest breath of wind. The stonework was grubby, the windows needed cleaning and the front gate was hanging on precariously by a single hinge.

'It's not much,' the farmer admitted, carefully opening the gate and leading the way up the weed-covered path. 'But if you're looking for somewhere with a lot of character, then you've found it.'

His new tenants cast wary eyes over the decrepit building but didn't comment. The young couple had been very polite when they'd turned up on Mr Giles' doorstep that morning, inquiring as to the cottage for rent. Their requirements and questions hadn't been like those of most people looking for somewhere to live, but as Mr Giles wasn't in the habit of being too picky about potential clients he'd happily invited them in for a cup of tea to discuss it.

They'd been quite eager, taking him aback after he'd asked when they'd be thinking of moving in if they found the property acceptable.

'Today?'

Mr Giles put down his cup of tea and blinked hard at them both.

'Is that not possible?' inquired Mr. Lupin anxiously. His wife looked almost distraught, holding their young son tightly on her lap.

'Well, yes, of course it's possible,' said Mr. Giles hastily. 'It's just most people prefer to have a look around the place before making a decision. But,' he went on hurriedly, 'if that's what you want, then it's no problem at all.'

They certainly are peculiar, the farmer had thought to himself as he drove them up to the cottage in his land rover. But beggars can't be choosers, I always say.

The old cottage was about two miles away from the main farmhouse, and situated beside some dense woodland, a far distance from the nearest village of Helmsley. It used to be a fairly popular hideaway for holiday makers in the summer months, often people from London wishing to escape the huge city and to experience the peaceful countryside. But with foreign holidays gaining popularity, the cottage hadn't seen many tenants the past few years and, with no one to spare the time to attend to it, it has fallen slightly into disrepair. Mr Giles cringed a little as it came into view, but hid it quickly with a smile, not wanting to put his new tenants off in spite of their insistence. There was nothing to stop them changing their minds about staying.

'I've not had any tenants for a while,' Mr. Giles admitted truthfully. 'What with me and the missus being so busy up at the farm we've not had much of a chance to give the old place a proper seeing to.'

The Lupins stopped to give the cottage a good look.

'It's not so bad,' muttered Julian, almost apologetically to his wife, who was looking rather apprehensive. 'We're miles away from anywhere … the – the woods are right there … it'll be fine …'

Diane stared blankly at the woods, and then gave a shaky nod. Mr. Giles noticed the little boy with them was clinging to his mother's hand and seemed to be trying hard to avoid everyone's gaze.

'It's a great place for kids,' Mr. Giles tried. 'Open fields over that way to run around in, and the wood's perfectly safe -'

'May we have a look inside?' said Julian, cutting him off.

Mr. Giles nodded, removed a rusty key from his pocket and stepped up to the front door, which was in dire need of a lick of paint. At least three faded and murky colours could be made out from the peeling patches. Rattling the key around a bit, Mr. Giles gave the door a swift kick to the bottom corner and it opened with a reluctant groan.

'I'll send one of my farm-hands to sort that out tomorrow,' he half-muttered, stepping over the threshold.

Shafts of gloomy light filtered in through the dirty windows, half illuminating the spacious living area. Hastily working his way around the room, Mr. Giles pulled off the sheets covering the armchairs and the sofa, sending clouds of dust swirling into the air.

'Er … let's see; the kitchen's just through there, and the staircase is over there. Main bedroom's right in front of you as you go up, and the smaller one is to your left. Bathroom's got hot running water last I checked, but any problems there's a phone here with the number of the farmhouse.'

Both the senior Lupins nodded before cautiously roaming the rooms. The wooden staircase creaked in protest as Diane made her way upstairs whilst Julian went to survey the tiny kitchen. Seeing their son lingering shyly by the front door, Mr. Giles offered a cheery smile.

'Come for a nice holiday, eh, lad?'

The little boy stared back with wide, pale eyes, and didn't say anything. His gaze flitted round the room then up to the beamed ceiling with its many cobwebs lurking in the corners.

'Bet you wanted to go to the seaside, eh?' said Mr. Giles, taking the child's silence as disappointment in the choice of location. 'You'll have just as much fun here, I promise you. Lots of places to explore and run around in.'

Remus watched the Muggle warily, before lowering his gaze to the floor. He didn't want to answer any questions and knew not to say anything about why they were here. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Muggle's smile fade uncertainly.

Just then, Julian came back in from the kitchen. Mr. Giles turned to him and hitched his smile back into place.

'Well, what do you think?'

'It's fine,' said Mr. Lupin, somewhat distractedly. 'But I was told there was a basement?'

'Ah, yes, it's just through here.' Mr. Giles indicated a door behind him. 'Used to be a wine cellar many years ago, but it's mostly for storage now. I can lend a hand if you want some of it cleared out; I could send someone along tomorrow morning.'

'No, thank you, that won't be necessary.'

The stairs creaked loudly as Diane returned from upstairs.

'Everything all right?' inquired Mr. Giles, hopefully.

Diane and Julian exchanged a look, each glancing out of the murky windows, before nodding.

Julian turned back to Mr. Giles.

'We'll take it.'

Mr. Giles beamed.

'Excellent! Are you planning on staying long?'

'Well …' Mr. Lupin exchanged another look with his wife. 'For the foreseeable future, at least.'

'That's fine, just keep me informed and I'm sure we'll get along nicely. The rent's due at the end of every month and I'll send someone round to check the heating and plumbing every now and then; you just let me know of any problems. If that's everything, any questions? No? Then I'll leave you to settle in. Oh, my wife, Bessie, (bless her heart,) she'll probably pop round in the morning with some milk and eggs; likes to make people feel welcome, she does.'

Diane smiled indulgently and nodded. The Muggle was a pleasant enough man and very helpful, but they had more pressing matters to deal with than continuing to make polite conversation.

When Mr. Giles had finally taken his leave and his land rover disappeared round a corner in the road, the Lupins quickly used their wands to bring all their belongings inside.

Remus took his own small box of things upstairs, slowly climbing the stairs to the room that would be his. It was very small and the bed consisted of a bleak looking metal frame and a thin mattress. He found the entire place cold and depressing; everything seemed to creak and groan when forced to move. The shabby wallpaper was damp in one corner from mould, and the window rattled as the wind picked up.

The day had started out warm and sunny, but as it wore on, dark clouds swarmed overhead on an increasingly high wind. The trees in the woodland behind the cottage swayed, their leaves rustling loudly. By late afternoon, the rain had begun.

Diane and Julian stared bleakly out from the kitchen window at the darken woods.

'We can't leave him outside,' Diane insisted wearily. 'He's not well as it is.'

Julian nodded.

The original plan had been to take Remus deep into the woods and to maybe tie him to a tree so he couldn't run off once the transformation had occurred. The Support Services had given the Lupins all the advice they could, but it was all up to Diane and Julian. Diane had hated the very idea of leaving Remus outside and alone, whilst a part of her understood why it was the safest thing to do. But seeing the appalling weather closing in around them, she couldn't bear the thought.

'We don't have much time; where else can he go?' asked Diane, failing to keep her voice calm. Remus was upstairs in his room, and she didn't doubt for a minute that he was listening in.

'The cellar. But we'll have to work quickly.'

Nodding, Diane snatched up her wand and followed her husband to the cellar.

Upstairs, as Diane had predicted, Remus lay on his bed, listening to his parents talking. At his mother's insistence, Remus had stayed upstairs out of the way whilst they'd worked to make the cottage more habitable. No one wanted to think about what was going to happen that night. Preparations had been discussed days ago, but the sudden change in the weather had thrown everything out of the window. Panic was settling in on all of them.

Remus listened with growing apprehension to the sounds coming from the cellar. Rolling over onto his side, Remus hugged his knees to his chest and stared blankly out of the window at the dark sky. Rain hammered on the window.

The room was cold and Remus sniffed. Though his parents had noticed how pale he'd become over the past few days, Remus had reframed from telling them how ill he really felt. His stomach was churning so badly he hadn't eaten anything all day. Remus closed his eyes against the mounting headache. His whole body felt sore and oddly tingly, as though something was crawling over his skin.

Tonight was the night, and no one had any idea what to expect, least of all Remus.

All he could do was wait.

-o-

It was nearly eight o'clock when Diane slowly ascended the stairway.

'Remus …'

She called softly to her son, and cautiously tapped on the door to his room. When he didn't answer, she pushed it open with shaking hands and peered inside.

Remus was sat on the edge of his bed, staring out of the window at the pouring rain. Slowly, he turned to his mother; wide, fearful eyes gazed at her from a deathly pale face. Remus was shaking.

Diane closed her eyes for a moment, summoning all her courage to keep from crying. Remus was frightened and needed her to be strong. She couldn't allow herself to think about was about to happen. It didn't seem real, like it was a horrible nightmare that they all ought to be waking up from at any moment.

But the end was never going to come.

Tentatively, she held out her hand.

For a few moments, Remus didn't move. Then, with painstaking slowness, he got down from the bed, paused to look once more out of the shimmering curtain of rain pouring down the window, then, head bowed, moved on unsteady feet to the door.

Gently taking his hand in hers, Diane gave it a reassuring squeeze; but the clamminess of her palm betrayed the absence of courage she felt.

Julian was waiting for them downstairs. He stood before the short passageway leading to the cellar. The thick wooden door behind him stood ajar, a faint smell of mould wafting up from the darkness, into which a cold stone stairway led.

Remus held back as his mother tried to lead him inside.

'I – I don't want to go,' he said, his voice quaking.

Diane faltered. Her husband, though equally distressed, gave her a beseeching look. Neither of them wanted to do this, but they didn't have any choice.

'You have to, sweetheart,' said Diane. Her eyes filled with tears as she spoke. Gently, she pulled on Remus' hand, coaxing him towards her. 'Come on, now, you'll be okay. I'm coming down with you.'

Remus took a few steps, feeling as though he were about to faint. Waves of dizziness were threatening to overpower him, but somehow he managed to reach the door without falling over.

His father put an arm around his shoulders and urged him on.

'Quickly now,' he said, 'there isn't much time.'

The barely concealed fear in his father's voice was enough to make Remus want to bolt. If his own father was terrified then what could he, Remus, possibly do? He didn't know what was going to happen to him exactly, but the fear emanating from his parents was contagious.

Taking a hesitant step through the door into the shadows, Remus followed his mother carefully down the steps, Diane holding her wand out in front of her, a narrow beam of light cutting through the gloom. Julian followed them down.

The smell of stale air and mould, mingled with alcohol, grew stronger as Remus descended into the darkness, his shoes scuffing on the stonework. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Remus could see by the wand-light that the cellar was full of boxes and a multitude of old, long forgotten items covered in dust. A shaft of twilight, rippling with the rain, cut a path through the gloom, emanating from a small window near the ceiling. A thick tapestry of cobwebs adorned every corner and crevice. Pieces of old furniture; torn paintings and battered banners stuffed into boxes; rusted tools and even a full length mirror propped up against the wall; the glass had been struck in the centre, creating a spider web-like image of broken shards.

The cellar was long and the far end was lost in darkness, rows of wooden structures disappearing from sight along the walls, holding a few dark bottles, thick with dust.

A large space had been cleared at the base of the stairs and swept up. As Remus stepped down from the stairs he could feel the magic in the air as if he'd passed through an invisible curtain.

Dropping to her knees in front of him, Diane held her son by his shoulders and whispered hoarsely; 'You'll be okay … it – it'll be over soon, and your father and I won't be far away … we'll be right upstairs …'

Unable to hold back any longer, Diane's lip quivered and the tears raced unhindered down her cheeks. Wrapping her arms around him, she drew Remus to her and hugged him tight. Remus gave a croaky sob as his father placed a hand on his mother's shoulder and whispered; 'It's time.'

As his mother slowly drew back and stood up, Remus threw himself at her and clung to her, burying his face into her side.

'Don't go!' he wailed. 'I don't want to be down here alone!'

But his protests did little to defer his parents. His father gently, but firmly, took hold of Remus and made him let go.

'Diane, go back upstairs.'

'But -'

'Now, please.'

Remus felt worse than ever as his mother reluctantly did as his father asked. As she neared the door, Julian turned back to Remus.

'I know you're scared,' he said softly, 'but I know you can be brave. You aren't scared of the dark, are you?'

Remus shook his head, sniffing. He didn't use to be. But he couldn't tell his father that, especially as his father gave him an encouraging half-smile.

'We can't stay down here with you, so you've got to be brave for us. Can you do that?'

Again, Remus nodded.

The forced smile was working to stay in place as Julian held up his wand. Remus looked at it, feeling a small flicker of hope. He loved to watch his parents do magic. Julian flicked his wand and muttered something under his breath. Four bubbles blossomed out of the wand tip, glowing with a ghostly light as they floated upwards. They reached the ceiling and stopped there, clustering together to increase the glow. Remus watched them, feeling a small part of the fear drain away.

'Remember, the light will keep you safe,' said Julian. 'Whatever happens, stay with the light and you'll be okay. We'll be back for you in the morning, all right?'

Remus nodded, still gazing up at the balls of light.

Giving his son a final hug, Julian kissed him tenderly on top of his head, and slowly backed away towards the stairs. Remus stayed where he was, pale eyes glinting in the half light.

For a few moments, both his parents stood framed in the doorway above him, the warm light of the living room shining from behind them, casting their faces into shadow.

Then the heavy door slowly swung closed, blocking them from view and cutting off the light, leaving the cellar in semi-darkness. A key scraped in the lock, and then silence fell.

Alone and with his fears racing back, Remus stood staring at the door, silently asking his parents to open the door and come back. He didn't want to be down here all alone in the dark. Tears stinging his eyes, he forced himself to look up at the bubbles of light floating up above him. The little pool of light around him did little to keep his mounting anxiety at bay.

Shivering, Remus sat down on the floor and hugged his knees, rocking back and forth. He felt horribly sick.

Outside, the rain suddenly intensified, hammering against the window pane with increasing fury, the wind howling.

At first, Remus didn't notice the soft, misty white glow as it started to weakly permeate the room through a break in the clouds. But as it touched him, a hot prickling sensation swarmed over his skin, and he turned, lifting his head to squint up at the grimy little window as the full moon rose into the sky.

Gasping in surprise and pain, Remus clutched at his chest. Beneath the thin shirt he wore, a searing pain across his scar rendered Remus breathless. Eyes wide, Remus feverishly pulled at his shirt, tearing it off and casting it aside.

All over his body, his skin was burning, yet shivering uncontrollably. The pain tore through him, turning his stomach and shooting into his arms and legs, rendering his thin frame rigid for an instant before sending him scrawling across the dirty floor.

Panicked, Remus scratched at his skin frantically, whimpering and crying, but the itching would not be relieved. It rapidly transgressed from intense aggravation to horrendous agony as Remus became horribly aware of every bone in his body as each one started to warp and twist.

Remus was screaming incoherently as loud cracks rent the air, sending fresh waves of pain coursing through him. His entire skeleton was snapping and re-shaping, forcing themselves into new positions, twisting and pulling the muscles with them. Every nerve was on fire; Remus could barely hear his own hoarse cries. His vision was swimming dangerously, blackness gathering at the edges, threatening to drag him down into unconsciousness.

But that small mercy would not be granted.

Sheer agony that was beyond description racked Remus' body to the edge of delirium; he no longer knew where he was. He only wanted for it to end. Time was irrelevant. His fragile little body was mutating at a startling speed, yet Remus could feel every single torturous alteration as if it were taking an eternity, deliberating drawing out the pain.

A fresh horror awoke in Remus' mind as he realised through the haze that his skeleton was not only reshaping, it was growing. Muscles went into spasms and skin rippled in protest, threatening to split as they struggled to keep up. And all the while, dark brown and grey fur was sprouting all over, burning as it sprouted through his skin.

He slammed his hands on the floor, scrabbling against the dirt as silvery grey and brown fur spread down his arms. Hard callused pads were forming rapidly on his palms, his fingernails blackening, then pushing outwards, curving into sharpened claws.

Overcome with fear and pain, Remus' throat was raw with his screams for help. In a moment of madness, Remus managed to get onto his hands and knees and flung himself against the nearest wall. The sudden jolt seemed to deaden the pain for an instant, but it returned with a vengeance as the transformation progressed.

Tearing at his skin, Remus screamed as his claws tore through his flesh. Blood welled from the deep scratches he had inflicted upon himself. The blood dripped to floor as he fought not to throw up.

Inside, his stomach gave a sickening jolt. Remus coughed fiercely with a mouth and throat that was no longer human. His jaw was nearly numb as Remus' teeth pushed roughly forwards, growing huge and pointed. Then his face bulged out. Before his terrified gaze, a short snout was straining out from his face, taking his jaw bone with it. The blinding pain reached a peak as his skull reformed. His ears already itching terribly with the sprouting fur, forced their way up to rest on top of a flattened head.

Writhing on the floor, Remus felt his knee joints reverse and an unbearable throbbing at the base of his spine as new bones painstakingly forced themselves into the beginnings of a tail. Tears raced down his now-furry cheeks as Remus gave a pitiful moan, no longer able to form coherent sounds with the misshapen muzzle his mouth had become.

Then, his heart stopped. Only for an instant, but it was long enough for Remus give a ragged croak – just as his lungs seized up. Deep inside, all the internal organs gave an almighty jolt, as they sought new locations within the growing, mutating body.

Remus opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't scream.

All the air had exploded from his lungs with a violent contraction. Staring wide-eyed at the distant ceiling, Remus was only dimly aware that everything around him was losing its colour. The cellar, already a cove of shadowy blue and grey beyond the pool of light in which Remus lay parallelised, was growing dull but at the same time becoming clearer. The darkness was lifting as the night vision of the werewolf asserted itself. There was no way for Remus to see it, but his eyes were rapidly losing the soft blue-grey, and turning into glowing amber.

Abruptly, his lungs resumed pumping. Gasping and gulping erratically, Remus forced air into them, heedless of the additional pain it caused. He was almost beyond feeling anything anymore.

An unearthly sound warbled out of his throat as the lupine form neared its end. Thrashing violently, Remus rolled off his back and onto all fours. He blinked hard, squinting blearily with strange new eyes into the shattered mirror before him.

The mutating shape that rippled across the splintered shards stared out with bright, glowing amber eyes. The shoulders of beast were hunching, and the short muzzle opened in a snarl, revealing a mouthful of sharp, serrated teeth.

NO!

Remus longed to tear himself away from the reflection but the unfamiliar limbs would not respond to his frantic, silent pleas. Shaking his head wildly, Remus' mind screamed as his voice died.

No – NO! That's not me – IT'S NOT ME, IT'S NOT!

He yelped as the razor-like teeth caught his tongue. Remus shook his head, whimpering. His body was shaking violently, his four long legs splayed as he tried to stay on his feet, backing away unsteadily. He tasted blood in his mouth …

Remus froze, petrified, as he felt something stirring. It felt inexplicably as if something was waking up from deep inside. An insatiable hunger was bubbling up inside, craving the warm coppery fluid that came with a kill … the primal instincts of the hunter were taking control, and, before Remus had a chance to resist it, felt his fragile hold on his strange new body brutally shoved aside, and a final wave of pain washed over him from head to tail as the new form fully asserted itself, forcing the young human being known as Remus Jacob Lupin down into darkness.

The werewolf lifted its head and opened its jaws, unleashing a haunting cry into the darkness.

The transformation was complete.

-o-

Upstairs, huddled against the battered door with tears flowing unhindered down her face, Diane froze and stared unseeingly at the barrier between her and her son as the rise and fall of the wolf-song took the place of the petrified screams, the cries for helps, and the racking sobs.

Sick with dread, Diane's body trembled as she fell to her knees, whimpering under her breath.

'Remus …'

-o-

As the song died on its tongue, the werewolf spun round, the amber eyes flashing as it took in its surroundings. The darkened room was dimly lit from above, but the shadows meant little to the wolf. Eyes penetrating the gloom, the werewolf raised its head and sniffed the air. This place was devoid of life as far he could see, but fresh scents lingered on the stale air.

He could smell blood.

Lowering his muzzle, the wolf sought out the smears of blood on the floor. Eagerly, the wolf lapped it up, revelling in the warm, coppery taste, as it sent shivers of ecstasy through him, leaving him hungry for more.

By the taste alone, somewhere in the werewolf's subconscious, an image was conjured. He knew what kind of creature he sought. It was the only one that could satisfy his hunger.

It only took a few moments for the last vestiges of blood to be lapped up from the ground. A gritty layer of dirt on the tongue was the animal's only reward for seeking more. A growl of frustration rumbled from his throat as the wolf searched in vain for more.

He wanted to hunt. He needed to hunt.

Abruptly, the werewolf lifted his head. A new scent had caught his attention. Ears pricked for any sound, the wolf froze. In moments, he'd pinpointed the source.

A low moaning was coming from somewhere above.

Silent as the shadows, the werewolf slunk low to the ground, the four large, padded paws carrying him lightly to the foot of the stone staircase. A narrow strip of light shone under the door at the top. A shadow fell across it; his prey was on the other side.

The wolf was salivating. The hunger was nearly overpowering, but the wolf succeeding in holding himself in check. He knew instinctively that rushing in was not the way to a successful hunt. It required patience, speed and skill.

Eyes locked on his target, the wolf remained motionless. Crouching low to the ground, breathing in the rich scent, the beast waited. The creature above him was afraid; he could smell it. And it excited him.

The sense of smell was the werewolf's most powerful sense, and the greatest asset to hunting. A wealth of information could be deduced by the prey's scent. With one sniff, the wolf knew instinctively that his prey was female, weak and very scared. It wasn't young, nor old; an adult in its prime. The strange creature was shuffling around restlessly, making strange verbal noises.

The werewolf took a step forward, placing on large paw on the first step, shifting his balance carefully.

But as he did so, a peculiar sensation touched his paw and he withdrew it quickly. Ears pricked, the werewolf sniffed the step uncertainly. Again, he felt it, this time on his muzzle. With a snarl, the wolf backed away and shook himself. There was something unseen and unpleasant which the wolf could not fully comprehend. What he did understand, however, was that it was preventing him from proceeding. The werewolf growled threateningly at the invisible foe.

'Remus?'

The werewolf stopped. The sound was meaningless in itself, but it carried the tone of fear. Saliva dribbling from its open jaws, the wolf tried to approach the stairs a second time. Stopping just short of the step, the wolf cautiously raised a paw and placed it on the step. A pressure seemed to be exerting itself upon his paw, sending a cold shiver through his body. But this time, the wolf stayed where he was. Although the feeling made him want to back off, it was not causing any pain.

'Remus? Can you hear me?

The soft sound drew the wolf's attention once more. 'Remus, are you all right? Speak to me!'

For a moment, the werewolf couldn't move. Something other than the invisible barrier was holding him back; a strange feeling from inside. For a moment, the idea of hunting the creature above him caused a sense of panic and bewilderment.

But the werewolf didn't understand the alien thoughts, and besides, they were too faint and insignificant. He didn't need to understand. The urge to hunt was stronger.

His prey was moving. A hesitant tapping on the door came through into the cellar.

'Remus, please, say something!' the panicked creature whimpered.

Focusing intently on his target, the wolf took another step up the stairs. The coldness intensified, cutting through the wolf's thick pelt, but it growled deep in its throat and held its ground. But another scent was rapidly approaching and new sounds reached the wolf's sensitive ears.

'Diane, come away from there!'

'I can't hear him, Julian, I can't hear anything!'

Snarling, the werewolf braced himself, the muscles in his shoulders and legs tensing. The new arrival was male and would undoubtedly be protective of his mate. Already he could sense the unease emanating from the behind the door.

'Di, please come away. I know this is hard but … you can't stay here all night; it wouldn't do you any good.'

'It's not me I'm worried about.'

'There isn't anything we can do.'

'Of course there is! I-I can stay right here, as close to my son as I can until … until the moon sets.'

There was a brief pause.

'No.'

'What?'

'No. I can't stand to see you like this Di … please, come away. We can't do anything else now … and if you don't rest you won't be able to help Remus when the morning comes. Diane? Diane, please listen to me! Don't torture yourself like this …'

Movement: the shadows at the door shifted. No! His prey was going to escape!

With a vicious snarl, the werewolf surged forward, only to slam painfully into the unseen barrier. A sudden shock surged through the wolf, sending it reeling backwards with a plaintive yelp. A cry sounded from upstairs at the noise. Dazed, the wolf found its feet, gave itself a quick shake to clear its head and turned, teeth bared, to the rippling air before it.

Not understanding this strange foe, the werewolf lashed out with its claws, raking the air. But the Barrier held. The werewolf responded with growing frustration, flying at the force that caged him. Again and again, the enraged beast attacked, clawing and slashing, snapping and body-slamming.

Though the Barrier Spell had been well cast, it was weakening rapidly under the viciously relentless attack. Light blue ripples swam over its surface, swirling … churning. Then, abruptly, the spell fell apart and the werewolf sprang up the stairs, its four powerful legs propelling the huge creature forward with incredible speed.

Bounding over the last few steps, the wolf flew at the heavy wooden door. There was a horrific bang as the animal struck the wood with all its strength. It shuddered, but did not give way. Two terrified yells sounded on the other side of the door.

-o-

Diane stared wide-eyed at the door as it shuddered again. Julian held her close, carefully edging away.

'He broke through the Barrier Spell,' he whispered fearfully. 'It wasn't strong enough.'

He could feel his wife tensing beneath his touch, resisting him as he tried to pull her back.

'Di,' said Julian, fighting to keep his voice low and steady. 'Don't …'

'He's my son,' Diane whimpered, her voice bordering on hysterical. 'He's my son …'

'No,' hissed Julian, his heart breaking as the words passed his lips. 'That's a werewolf in there; it's not Remus.'

'It is him!' Diane shrieked. Furiously, she pulled out of Julian's grasp and threw herself at the door.

'REMUS! Remus, can you -'

But just as she reached it, a thunderous howl sounded and the door gave an almighty shudder as the imprisoned creature rammed its entire body against it. Diane fell back with a cry. She fell to the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried in vain to call to the child who no longer knew who she was.

Julian dived forward and pulled her away. Pushing her away into the living room, Julian turned back to the door and raised his wand.

-o-

Bruised and shoulders sore, the werewolf backed away momentarily. The enticing scent of human prey had driven him to insatiable bloodlust; he ignored any feelings of pain and launched a new attack, rearing up onto his hind-legs and slashing with his sharp black claws.

-o-

Great splinters appeared in the door as the werewolf threw itself against it in an increasing rage. Furious scrabbling of claws raked down the door, and the faint sound of deep-throated snarls.

Taking a steadying breath, Julian spoke an incantation and jabbed his wand at the door.

-o-

A red glow clouded the wolf's vision and a fiery heat seared through the wood, flared in the wolf's face. Howling in pain, the werewolf withdrew. Pawing at its eyes, the wolf stumbled backwards. For a moment, it couldn't see, but the moment its vision cleared, the werewolf snarled and flew at the door once more, only to be met with the same fiery pulse emanating from the door. This time it was stronger and much more painful.

The werewolf, howling with rage, turned and fled.

-o-

'What are you doing?' Diane screamed. 'Stop it!'

'I can't let him escape!' Julian yelled. His hand shook but kept his wand trained on the door. Another jet of fiery red light lanced from the wand-tip and vanished through the door. Trapped inside, they could hear the werewolf howling, but from further away.

Julian closed his eyes. There was pain evident in the primal sound, and he had caused it. A part of him argued the necessity, but the other part hated him for it. That beast had been his son only a short while ago, yet if he showed any mercy or pity towards it; it would kill him and Diane without hesitation. Then who would be there to help Remus when he changed back? Assuming he would even survive it. Julian had not been deaf to his son's cries. There were no words to describe the pain any of the Lupins' had felt.

Brow furrowing in sudden conviction, Julian brought his wand up sharply and cast spell after spell, reinforcing the door with every spell he knew. Jets of red, blue, green and deep purple struck the door in turn.

When he was down, he turned to Diane. She stood anxiously a few feet away, wringing her hands. She looked as though she were about to collapse but was forcing herself to stay standing.

'Go upstairs,' said Julian, quietly, firmly. 'Stay in the bedroom. Don't come back down.'

Diane opened her mouth to argue, to protest. But looking at the expression on her husband's face, she fell silent. She wanted to stay, yet in her heart she knew there was nothing she could do.

'I'll stay here,' said Julian. 'Just to make sure …'

Exhaustion catching up on her, Diane nodded and slowly retreated from the passage. Julian waited until her light footsteps receded upstairs and the bedroom door closed over.

He knew she wouldn't sleep. How could any mother settle down to sleep while her child suffered so?

How could a father feel anything but helplessness?

Sombrely, Julian turned to gaze at the heavy door at the end of the passage. The haunting cry of the wolf within sent shivers down his spine. Julian tightened his grip on his wand.

-o-

The howl of fury echoed off the stone walls of the cellar. The wolf fell silent for a moment, pacing restlessly in tight circles. Its body was quivering with pent up energy, crying to be unleashed.

The prey had escaped. The hunt had failed. The werewolf was starving, angry and restless.

With a sudden burst of speed, the wolf ran the length of the cellar, scrabbling at the walls at the far end before turning on the wooden shelving. Clamping on the woodworm ridden structure with its powerful jaws, the wolf ravaged it into splinters and crumbling fragments within minutes. Drawing back, the wolf growled loudly. It had done nothing to abate the animal's agitation.

Bounding over the remnants, the werewolf ran wild, lost in the madness of the bloodlust.

A glint of moonlight caught the wolf's attention.

The shattered mirror gleamed silver in the dim light. The shadowy image of another wolf stared back from the jagged shards.

A thunderous growl rising in his throat, the wolf ignored any notion of the other creature not baring any scent and responded to the one overpowering instinct that governed it.

With two mighty bounds, the werewolf flew at its reflection.

There was an almighty crash as the mirror shattered, the frame splintering and the glass flew everywhere. Shards cut deep into the wolf's muzzle and front paws as the enraged beast cried out in pain. Scrawling in a heap, the wolf knew it was hurt but the scent of blood filled its nostrils and swept away all consideration of its injuries.

Dark red blood oozed from the wounds on its paws. Licking the blood away with its long tongue, the wolf felt a surge of satisfaction. But it wasn't enough to calm the half-crazed animal. With the first tantalizing taste, its craving intensified. Somehow, the creature knew the taste wasn't right. He still wanted the warm flowing blood of the prey that had escaped, but the bloodlust could not be denied; not now.

Desperately, the wolf twisted its head this way and that, trying to reach the blood matting its fur. Unable to reach it all, the wolf gave a frustrated yelp and bit at its own haunches, then again, harder, and harder still, until the crimson blood seeped from the marks. Half biting, half licking, the wolf was working itself into a frenzy.

The blood began to flow, gleaming in the soft glow from above.

-o-

Diane lay curled up on her bed, clutching a pillow to her chest. Her eyes red and swollen, tears raced down her face. She made no effort to stifle her sobs.

-o-

Slumped against the passage wall, Julian fought to keep awake as the night crept slowly by. Sheer willpower alone was staving off sleep, but it was powerless to stop the tears flowing down his cheeks at the torturous howls of agony from beyond the cellar door.

-o-

After several agonising hours, the werewolf lay in a pool of its own blood on the cold flagstones. Eyes glazed and breathing in ragged, shallow breaths, the huge creature found it was unable to rise. Finally giving in to its own body's exhaustion, the werewolf slowly closed its eyes.

Through the tiny, grimy window, the full moon shone with eerie radiance through the darkness. The storm had died away, and in the distance, a soft dusty glow painted the black of night with the barest touch of the approaching sunrise.

-o-

To Be Continued …

-o-

Please review. All comments and constructive criticisms are greatly appreciated.

-o-

Author's Notes

I apologise for any mistakes this chapter and those in the previous chapters. I unfortunately no longer have a Beta to help me check my work. If anyone would be willing to assist me, I would be very grateful. Though please bear in mind that due to other commitments, writing fanfiction is not very high on my priority list for the time being, so Beta-ing my work will not be a particularly regular thing. If you don't mind the occasional request, please contact me via e-mail. Thank you.

Evil Spapple Pie - Thank you for reviewing! Sorry, I'm taking so long to update. And thanks for pointing those out; unfortunatly I keep reading what I 'think' I've writen so I keep missing those kinds of mistakes. Glad you like it so far!

Steph Silverstar - Thank you!

Shadow00 - Ah, you're very nice to say so! I can guarantee that this fic will run to the end of Remus' years at Hogwarts as an absolute minimum. The plot hasn't gained much ground on post-Hogwarts at the moment but I'm working on it!

Summersun - Again, apologises for not updating sooner! Can't believe how long this has taken me; will certainly be trying harder to be quicker with chapter seven. Thanks for reading.

The Thief Kurone - First of all, thank you SO much for reviewing multiple chapters!And I'm very pleased that you've enjoyed it thus far. I'm all for a good angst, and I wasn't sure if I'd written this as well as I'd hoped, but if your review is anything to go by, I'm on the right track, which is highly encouraging! The reaction of Remus' own grandmother has very much set the trend for him; from here on he's going to become very withdrawn and shy, placing trust only in his parents, but even then it's not going to be easy for him, as he feels that he is responsible for everything that's happened. It's far from the nicest thing to write about it and I hope I'm going to do the character justice. Certainly I hope that Remus fans will enjoy it as much as I am writing it! Got so much planned for the Marauder years! Hope you've enjoyed the lastest installment - next one hopefully shouldn't take too long.

Zeldafreak14 - I'm blushing, that's so flattering! (Can feel my head swelling: that's not good!) Ipersonally can't wait to see the next part of your fic - baby Harry's so cute!

Liv Naravul - Thanks! I don't mind nitpicks! I nitpick my own work so much it's almost nice to have someone else do it for a change. I do love a lot of detail; can't stand being too vague so I tend to write a lot of descriptive passages, as I did for the transformation - took ages but thoroughly enjoyed doing it. Hope to hear from you again soon.