Chapter One

After carefully tucking a pair of dark blue socks among the rest of his things in his trunk, Remus sat down on his bed and peeled back the wrappings on his arm. Last month's transformation had been especially violent. He suspected he had run into one of the centaurs that sometimes herded in the forest behind his family's home. Twinging with guilt at the still dark purple bruise on his forearm, he hoped for the hundredth time that month that he hadn't harmed any creature with a soul. At least it would be the last time. At Hogwarts, Dumbeldore had a plan.

In a little while, he would be leaving for the castle and for four days, Remus could be a normal student. He would be sorted into a house (his mum suspected Ravenclaw), eat with the others at the feast, and go to classes for a few amazingly ordinary days. And then, on the night of the fifth, just before midnight, he would begin a unique journey as Hogwarts' first ever werewolf student. No one else would know, Dumbledore assured him and, more importantly, it would be perfectly safe.

Standing and walking to his bedroom window, Remus picked up his Hogwarts letter from the sill. He and his parents had gone into town, picking up all his supplies. His favorite stop beside Flourish and Blotts had been at the Wand-makers shop. It had only taken two tries for his wand to choose him and, secretly, it had really pleased Remus. His wand had to know who he was, didn't it? 10 ¼ inches, Cyprus, and unicorn hair. His core and its core had to be compatible and it felt good that he was wanted, at least in some way. It was clear that his parents did not share the enthusiasm. Although they quietly smiled for Remus' excitement, his father still watched carefully for any of his Ministry Coworkers and his mother carefully adjusted Remus's sleeves when any of the bruises or scrapes peaked out. Lycanthropy was something to hide, something to be ashamed of, Remus knew. He was something to be ashamed of.

From downstairs, Remus' mother called, her voice soft and subdued, even at increased volume. Carefully folding his letter into his moon cycle journal, Remus packed the notebook underneath a set of pants and closed his trunk, hurriedly scampering down the front stairs into the parlor. On the small, round family table hot eggs and porridge were set out, mother already dishing out the breakfast and father standing by the bay window, eyes distant. The sun had been up for a few hours now and the light was weak, but warm, much like his parents' smiles. Remus smiled too, for he was truly excited, but he also felt the stress that was so clear in both their faces. His mother, more than usual, had dark circles under her once bright gray eyes.

"I've packed you lunch for the train," she said as he sat down. "And put a few galleons in there as well, so you can get a snack from the trolley."

"Thanks, mum," he beamed, and picked up his fork to eat. He cast his eyes anxiously at the both of them while he chewed his eggs. He wouldn't be home again until Christmas. Even if his life here was boring, at least it was safe, and no one bothered about him reading and spouting off newly-learned facts at random, even if no one in particular was listening. All at once, it was harder to lift globs of egg and porridge to his mouth. Remus was sure he could teach himself at home. He had hoped that Hogwarts would be an escape, but what escape was there if the bad thing lived inside him?

"I suspect you'll be needing this," his dad broke in after a moment and set Remus' new wand on the table. He smiled, his angular face lifting briefly. They had decided to hold on to the wand, lest Remus be tempted to use it before heading off to school. "Remember, that wand is just a tool. Your mind is where your real power lives."

Remus nodded vigorously, trying to pick up the instrument with reverence instead of pure elation. He would get to cast charms, transfigure animals, and even concoct potions. He felt the warmth of the wand in his hand, almost greeting him.

"You best go get your trunk and coat, we should be leaving soon," his father concluded and Remus hurriedly stowed his wand, jumping to his feet.

"Are we going by broom?" he asked, halfway up the stairs.

Exchanging a look with his mother, his father hesitated a moment before saying, "Your mother and I think it best if you apparate alongside me."

Apparating was dangerous and, from what Remus had read, extremely uncomfortable and tricky. Not eager to question his parents, however, he just nodded and made his way quickly upstairs. Gathering his things, he looked around his tidy bedroom, his many notes and charts hung neatly on the wall. Even if he was only eleven, Remus was sharper than many knew, even his parents truthfully. If his parents were prepared to risk apparating, that meant they were concerned about the amount of time, and therefore exposure, they would risk in public. Once Remus was on the train, he would blend in- just another first-year aboard the Hogwarts express. No one would have to know that the Lupins, whose strange, quiet son was shrouded in mystery, was starting at school.

With a pit in his stomach, Remus tried to cheer himself. Apparating, at least, would be interesting. Maybe he would be the youngest student at Hogwarts to have ever done it. With this intriguing idea set firmly at the forefront of his mind, Remus donned his coat and shoes and dragged his trunk to the parlor, the wheels bumping on every step in clumsy rhythm with his heart.

After grabbing his lunch and a long hug with his mum, Remus followed his father out into the beginning day. In the wide front yard, they stood together, facing the house, backs to the treeline. This property had been Remus's home for the last six years, ever since that fateful night when Greyback had broken into their home. From the age of five, every month, he had transformed in those woods. Life would be different now and he hoped with every ounce of his thin, scarred body that it would change for the better.

Taking firm hold of his father's hand, Remus took one more long look at the yard around him before they were sucked into darkness. Extreme pressure overtook them and it felt like they were being squeezed through a tube of paste. Eggs and porridge mixed uncomfortably in Remus's stomach and he thought he might throw up before the pressure began to lift, all at once. With a bright flash of light and a slam of cement against their feet, the Lupins arrived, suddenly, at King's Cross station.

The muggles milling around in swarms paid no mind to the father and son, appearing from thin air, just behind one of the pillars. Eyes swiveling anxiously about, Mr. Lupin put a hand on Remus's shoulder, "Alright, see that brick pillar there? Run on through and you'll arrive on the platform."

"But the train doesn't leave for more than an hour," Remus reminded him nervously, pointing up to a large, metallic clock on the far wall.

"Read one of your books, then," he suggested impatiently. Remus nodded, feeling his eyes sting with fear, heart thrumming in his scrawny chest. His father's eyes softened a little, "It's best for you if I don't come along. Other students will be along shortly, I promise. Now go on. Just take a run at the wall. It looks solid, but it's not."

Remus had read about this and, last night, had been rather anxious to try it. Of course, he had imagined holding tight to his mum's hand as it happened. He never imagined he would have to go alone. Sweat began to gather on his palms as he stared up at his father.

Guilt shone a little in his tired face, but he set his mouth solidly, "You'll be fine. I best be off to work now… Have a good term. Write to us when you know your house, alright?" With an awkward squeeze of Remus's shoulder, Mr. Lupin walked out into the crowd, just as a trolley passed and with a loud crack that got lost in the hubbub of noise, he was gone from sight.