She-Wolves, Shenanigans and Shy Werewolves
A/N: This is a new story that I decided to write when I noticed that I had an OC who could potentially be a guardian for darling Remus. Such a dear boy but he needs love. And so, I created a guardian for the young wolf and his boyfriend ;) Hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but Fern, Olly, and the plot.
Remus was tired of the lies. He was tired of hiding who he was, but feared he had no choice. He knew that he wouldn't ever be properly accepted at his dream school, Hogwarts, which he had known of from his mother before her untimely passing when he turned six years old.
He felt bitter for the dreams of friendship and playfulness he would have had with his fellow wizards and witches. However, he knew that he could never tell any friends he did happen to make about his home life. His father, Lyall Lupin, was a dangerous man who had fallen into despair after his wife was killed by a werewolf and his son turned into one. He couldn't handle the truth and abused his son, hitting, shoving and taunting the innocent young werewolf whenever he was at home. He needed someone to talk to, an adult who could remove him from his horrendous homelife and make the cub feel safe again. He had been a werewolf since the tender age of six years old and had hated his existence afterwards. Which was a shame, as he had been such a happy little boy before being transformed into a werewolf. His father, Lyall had soon changed that. He was allocated less and less playtime and given more and more chores to do around the house. The bedtime routine for the young wolf consisted of being locked in his room until morning with a bar of pure silver at the door to stop him from exiting. That was, until an old friend of his mother's decided to pay them a visit from her seaside home in Wales.
Fern Crawford was a werewolf who had been an old friend of Remus' mother and father. She knew the young werewolf's father from Hogwarts. She hadn't really known him well, as she had been a Hufflepuff and he had been a Gryffindor, so they didn't know each other much. She knew Hope from the knitting classes that they both attended on Saturdays, having become close friends who didn't live that far away from each other. Fern lived in Beaumaris, a seaside village in Wales, with her bonded mate and husband, Oliver. She would have had many children if she had been able to bear them but sadly, due to a curse placed on her by a jealous fellow she-wolf, she had rendered infertile and unable to bear children. She had been waiting to visit Lyall and his son since Hope's untimely death by Fenrir Greyback's hand but had been grieving the loss of her dear friend. Until now, the Spring of 1966, when she decided to visit the husband of her old friend and their son. She travelled to their rundown semi-derelict cottage in Yorkshire to find it looking worse for wear. She wasn't the fondest of Lyall – she never had been but had visited her friend in her living days in Yorkshire and when she lived nearer, in Cardiff. She and her husband had travelled up to Yorkshire to visit Lyall and Remus for a short trip, to see how they were coping after the untimely death of Hope. Fern knocked lightly on the door, hoping to see the face of her older friend's husband. Lyall opened the door and hesitantly greeted them, "Oh, it's you. Come in then, I suppose." She smiled softly, "Hello Lyall. I apologise for not coming sooner. I'm sorry for your loss." She gave him a small bouquet of white roses and irises to say 'sorry for your loss' in a gentle way. He accepted the flowers and nodded to Oliver, "Nice to meet you. I assume you're the husband?" Oliver smiled jovially, "Indeed, I am. Sorry for your loss." Lyall nodded, silently agreeing with him. Fern asked gently, "Where is Remus, Lyall? I would like to meet my godson properly, if you wouldn't mind, please. I haven't seen the little darling since his christening." Lyall flinched, knowing that Remus was Fern's godson which meant that she had a right to see him. He told her, "He's upstairs. He's a quiet boy. Doesn't say much." Fern nodded understandingly, "Poor thing, losing his mother at such a young age. It's a pity, really. I'll just quickly pop up and see if the un bach is alright." She quietly went upstairs to search for the little boy who had lost his mother. Lyall asked, "What did she call just my son?" Oliver smiled gently at his wife's knack for slipping into Welsh now and then, "She was born and reared in Wales and has a habit of slipping odd words of the language into day-to-day conversation. I think she called your son 'little one'." Lyall gritted his teeth at the gentle presence that would see his son. "Oh. Alright then." Oliver asked him, "Your son is six, isn't he?" He wondered, "Yes? Why do you ask?" Oliver blinked and told him with uncertainty, "I'm not sure how to say this, but I suffer from lycanthropy. I sense another of my kind in this house. I was curious if it were you or your son?" Lyall grew defensive, "You're a werewolf! Does your wife know? It's my son. He was attacked by a werewolf earlier this year. He's become a monster." Lyall added bitterly. Oliver seemed startled and wondered how his wife was faring upstairs with the little one. "Not all of us are monsters, Lyall. Some of us are good." Oliver argued strongly. Lyall scoffed, "Tell that to the monster that attacked my son in his bed earlier this year."
Upstairs, Fern had located the small room of a little boy who was shaking while reading a battered copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. She could sense it straight away, being a werewolf herself. She gently knocked on the door and asked, "Hello? Remus, my name is Fern. I was a friend of your mother's and I just popped in for a quick visit." Her gentle tone drew the young werewolf out. He opened the door and shyly replied, "Hi. I'm Remus." She smiled at the sweet but shy boy, "Hello Remus. It's nice to meet you, properly. I was at your christening. I'm your godmother." Remus, being a curious lad, asked, "What's a godmother?" She explained gently, "When someone's mother passes away, a godmother looks after them for their mother." Remus shyly smiled at the kindly woman, "A-Are you going to… going to take care of me?" She smiled, beckoning him close, he came closer. She hugged the little boy close, "I'll do my best, little one." Remus, not used to the affection, hugged her close, enjoying the warmth of the hug. Fern grew sad, sensing the lack of affection in the boy's life. She asked him, "Are you alone up here often, un bach?" Remus replied, "I like reading. It helps pass time. What does that mean?" She smiled softly, "You'll have to forgive me, Remus. I'm from a place called Wales and I tend to slip in and out of my native tongue. The term I just called you, un bach, means 'little one'." Remus blushed at her affectionate words, "That's nice of you. Were you and Mum close?" She smiled sadly, "I wish we'd been closer. We knew each other through the knitting classes we went to on Saturdays, but your dad and I went to school together." He slightly flinched at the mention of his father which was a curious sign for Fern, "You went to Hogwarts too? I've wanted so badly to go there. Dad says I can't now. Ever since the bad man made me into a monster." He began shaking and grew pale, frightened looking. Fern hugged him close, "Poor gariad. You've been through so much at such a young age… And your father is no help! Goodness, making you think you're a monster when you're no more than a cub. That's all you are, dearie. A little cub." Fern gently crooned to the now crying young werewolf. He shook his head and replied, "B-But… But Dad s-says that I-I'm… I'm a m-monster…" Fern rocked him gently in her arms, "You're not, un bach. You're a scared, sweet, shy little wolf cub who's just lost his mother." She stroked his hair gently, looking into his hazel-green eyes full of innocence, "You go back to your book, fy nghiwb. I'll be back up to you soon." she told him with a smile, parting from the hug. He curiously asked, drying his tears, "What does that one mean?" She shook her head, "Silly me. It means 'my cub'. I'll see you soon, sweet boy." She patted his head and went downstairs, silently thundering at the treatment her godson had been living in. She had noticed the malnourished grooves of his young body, the bareness of his room and the bruises that couldn't have come from his wolfish side. She marched into the kitchen, guns blaring, as she exclaimed to Lyall in a tone of surprised alarm, "Lyall, for heaven's sake! What would Hope say, if she were alive? She would be ashamed of what you've done to that boy. He's such a sweet cub." Lyall's hand shook with anger, "Don't presume to tell me what to do with that monster upstairs. Your husband has just informed me of your conditions. Take him, and the devil be gone with the lot of you!" She was surprised by the violent reaction of Lyall, an old Gryffindor. She replied sternly, "Very well. Expect papers from the Ministry to sign for legal guardianship of your son." He replied, "I'll gladly sign them. That monster upstairs is no longer my son." Fern gasped, "How can you say that about that sweet intelligent boy upstairs?" He scoffed, "That monster upstairs is no sweeter than the monster that sired him. As for intelligent, I'll give you that. He's a crafty little bugger." She gritted her teeth and gave Oliver a look as if to say, 'take my hand to stop me from lashing out'. Oliver took his mate's hand in his own sturdy hand, making sure that her temper didn't get the best of her. Lyall questioned this, "What's with the hand-holding? Oh, Oliver and you must be mates." She nodded sharply, "I'll go and retrieve Remus. I'll bring him to our home and nurture him back to the health of what a six-year-old boy should be." She squeezed Oliver's hand and told him, "I won't be long, fy am byth." He kissed her hand quickly and told her, "Be quick, sweetheart." She smiled, nodding sharply as she went upstairs to get Remus, ashamed and appalled at her friend's treatment of the bright, sweet boy that was upstairs.
She went upstairs and knocked gently on Remus' door. The shy werewolf boy asked in a trembling voice filled with worry, "He's mad at me, isn't he?" She hugged him close, "No, fy mab, he's mad at all three of us. I'm taking you back to my home in Wales. You'll be safe there. My husband and I are going to take good care of you." Fern spoke softly to him, gently stroking the Remus looked up at her with wide hazel-green eyes, "R-Really? You're… you're taking care of me?" She smiled and took his smaller hand in his, too small for a six-year-old boy, and squeezed it reassuringly, "Yes, cub. You're going to come and live with my mate and me. We are werewolves too, gariad." Remus smiled the most he had since his mother had been killed in that moment. He took his godmother's hand and went downstairs. He met a kindly black haired man who introduced himself as Oliver, Fern's mate. With that, the trio Apparated back to Wales, safe and sound at last.