I awoke in darkness. I saw both my parents asleep at my bedside. I stared around the now-dark hospital room. What happened? I thought to myself, willing my brain, numb with fear, to think. Then I remembered the eyes, and the howl. Repressing a shudder, I scramble out of bed, careful not to wake my parents. I quietly walked around the room, searching for answers.
Pausing at the window, I thought of the words that the Healer spoke to my father. "None the less, it doesn't change what has happened; the bite has changed everything. He is no longer the boy you knew. The damage is permanent. We have searched for every possible cure, but none exist. Even though he has woken up, he is too young. He probably won't survive the first transformation."
The light of the waning moon reminded me of the surreal light of the full moon. The thought of it made my head ache.
Continuing my search, I came across an official-looking piece of parchment. Noticing my name, I read on. "Diagnosis: Werewolf"
Werewolf? Is that what that monster was? My young mind tried to reason with my tired body. Deciding it was time for answers, I woke my parents, still clutching the paper in my hands.
-Half hour later-
Still clutched in the embrace of my crying parents, I sat, dumbstruck. I'm a werewolf. "I'm a werewolf" I said softly, my voice wavering with repressed sobs. I broke away from my parents, silent tears streaming down my face. So this is it then.
Although they explained to me what it meant to be a werewolf…I still couldn't fully grasp the idea, nor did I want to. I didn't fully understand the full impact of what had happened, but even then, I knew that my life had changed for the worst. People often underestimate the understanding of a child's mind. But often times, the naïve child mind can sense emotions, doubts and fears that are completely missed by adults. This was one of those times.
Although my parents tried to reassure me that they would always love me and be there for me, I knew that I was to be living the life of an outcast. They promised that they would do whatever they could to make my life normal, or as close to normal as possible.
The healers insisted on keeping me in the hospital another week. They ran test after test, and gave me countless numbers of horrid-tasting potions, but I found myself sinking in a state of bitter hopelessness. Although my body way still very weak, my mind was bored, and longed to be outdoors, playing with my neighbourhood friends.
My parents tried to remain as bright and cheery as possible, but I could tell that they were fearful; dreading the day in three weeks time, when the moon was full; the day that I might not survive.
It was such a relief to be out of the hospital. The early morning mists had cleared away, leaving a surprisingly sun-filled day. We drove home, my parents not wishing to test my weak body with floo-travel.
Unfortunately, those three weeks passed extremely quickly. Looking back at them now, they were a false cheer. I remember my closest friend coming to visit me, about two weeks after I had been bitten. His name was Peter, Peter Johnson, and he was a Muggle, not that it really mattered. I was already hiding from him the fact that we were a wizarding family.
One more secret can't hurt can't it? I thought bitterly. Although I was pretty sure that Peter wouldn't care, in fact I figured he probably wouldn't believe me, I didn't feel comfortable revealing it to him. Therefore, I merely repeated the story that my parents were telling our Muggle (and wizard) neighbours, that I was diagnosed with a weird heart-condition in an institute in London.
As the full moon approached, I felt my body growing weaker and weaker. My mind grew frustrated at the continuous pounding headache I was feeling. My parents noticed the change in stamina. They made me rest a lot more, and they were unable to hide the looks of worry.
Before sunset on the night of the full moon, my parents led me to the attic. They had installed charms that would make it soundproof, and strong enough to hold me. I walked to the attic like a condemned prisoner headed to his beheading, but I looked completely cheerful compared to my parents. My parents embraced me for what they figured was the last time, and cried.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, "I'm sorry for causing you so much pain." I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. "No, Remus," whispered my mum…"Don't say such a thing…It's not your fault." My dad tried to smile, but failed miserably. "What do you want us to make for you for breakfast?" He asked, trying to make himself sound sure. Then realizing how odd he sounded, he laughed nervously. "I know you can do this, Remus. No more beating around the bush…you are strong…you'll be fine. See you in the morning son."
Not trusting myself to speak, I headed into the attic, and closed the door behind me. It locked with a click. I heard my mum let out a sob. I walked out into the centre of the room. My parents had made it rather comfortable. The floor was soft. I curled myself into a little ball and cried noiselessly; waiting for something to happen. The sun was setting, low in the sky. I looked at its orange rays which cast patterns on the walls of my attic prison, for despite the comfort, I felt as if it were my death sentence. The last rays of sunlight died in the sky and the moon began to rise, I could feel its pull on me.
The moonlight hit my eyes, blinding me. A searing pain started in my leg, at the bite, and began spreading its way trough my body. The pain was so much worse than any I had felt before…even worse than that night when I was bitten. I was conscious of the change that began to befall my body… and while my body was changing, I felt the pain in my mind. I never thought it was possible for my mind to feel pain…for my thoughts to be on fire, but I felt as if I were fighting a loosing battle…fighting to keep recognition of my self, of who I was. I felt as if this…this…creature was to win, I would slip away; and yet the pain continued to become more intense. Then the part of me that was Remus the little boy was overpowered, and I sank into a painful dark abyss, without any recollection of anything.
The next conscious memory I had was an odd sensation that the battle in my mind had started again. I the pain start up again, spreading throughout my body, making me feel as if I were about to explode. The same tearing sensation spread across my body. I became conscious in a dizzy sort of way that the first rays of sunlight were reaching out across the sky. My head still pounding heavily and my vision blurry, I just collapsed on the floor, taking deep breaths, trying to make the dull after-feeling of pain go away. I wanted desperately to sleep, but above all, I needed to get out of the attic.
I walked to the door, and remembered that at sunrise, the door would unlock. Just before I could reach the door, it opened from the outside.
"REMUS!" my mum called in a half strangled voice. She ran into the room, quickly followed by my dad. She threw her arms around me, and then quickly pulled away. "How are you?" she whispered, looking at me carefully. I saw her eyes get wide as she looked at my face.
"I feel terrible" I said in a whisper, the only energy I could muster.
"Remus you're bleeding!" she said…and she led me away quickly. My dad stopped in the doorway, a broad smile on his face. He sighed in relief, and ruffled my hair. "I knew your could do it Remus," he said, his voice brimming with pride and relief. But I couldn't even muster a smile…I felt likely to collapse right there.
My mum put me in the bath, and then tried to heal my cuts with some of her ointments. "Is there anything I can get you?" my dad asked. I managed a weak smile.
"A bed would be nice, and maybe some chocolate."