It was a Sunday, and his grandparents were visiting, which meant that Remus should have been happy. But two Healers from St. Mungo's had just arrived, and there was a palpable tension in the air. As the afternoon wore on, the adults sat in his parents' living room talking in whispers. His grandparents took it in turns to go outside with Remus and play with him in the fresh, cold afternoon; but there were strange, sad looks on their faces that made Remus quite nervous. Every once in a while, his mother Rowena would come outside and hug him fiercely, whisper that she loved him, then disappear again into the living room. His father Owen sat in the window and never took his eyes off of him; he wore an expression that Remus didn't understand.

Remus knew that something was about to happen to him tonight, for the first time. His parents and the Healers had prepared him as best they could. They explained that the bite on his shoulder had come from a werewolf, which meant that he was one now, too. But Remus still felt the same as he always had. Maybe someone had made a mistake. Maybe it was just a dog or a regular wolf that had attacked him last month. Maybe nothing at all would happen tonight when the moon appeared.

Remus pushed a tin train across the dry, brown grass and made the appropriate sound effects, but his heart wasn't really in it, hadn't been in it since that night. His grandmother Margaret had given him the train, one of many Muggle toys she had played with when she was a girl; Remus's father had used it when he was a boy, as well. Remus played with the train more for her sake than his own; but he felt safer in her presence. However, he was sad that she seemed so worried.

The sky behind the garden shed was slowly changing from pale blue to pink, orange, and purple, punctuated by thin, wispy clouds. There was only a little more time left to play, and his eyes remained locked on the train being pushed along by his gloved hand.

He felt rather than saw his parents walking towards him, along with his other three grandparents and the two Healers. Quickly, his grandmother hugged him and whispered in his ear an old nursery rhyme she used to say to him at bedtime when he would come to visit:

I see the moon

the moon sees me

God bless the moon

and God bless me

She kissed his cheek, and when she pulled back her eyes were glistening with tears. She stepped away from him and inched toward the other grownups. Remus dropped his train and got to his feet. All the adults except his parents were standing respectfully several paces away. His parents knelt close to him and embraced him, muttering quietly in his ear. Why did his father keep using the word "sorry," Remus wondered. It wasn't his fault Remus had been bitten. His father was now offering words of reassurance, but he felt his mother shaking as tears rolled down her face.

"It's okay, Mum. Don't worry," Remus said, his arms around her neck; but she only cried harder. He inhaled her comforting smell of flowers and laundry, never wanting to leave her arms. He peeled off his gloves so he could feel the warmth of her neck under his hands, touch her dark hair. But then one of the Healers stepped forward, looking skyward.

"It's time, son," his father whispered gruffly, still kneeling, taking Remus's small hand in his own. "We'll be right outside, all of us. You'll be fine, and we'll see you in the morning. Granddad will make pancakes."

Remus smiled over his father's shoulder at his grandfather, Jonathan, who stood rubbing his mustache with his knuckles, his other arm crossed over his body with the hand tucked into his armpit. His grandfather waved briefly, offered the tiniest flicker of a smile, then commenced rubbing his mustache again, his eyebrows tented with worry.

Remus's parents walked with him into the garden shed, which the Healers had called "the most humane option." The previous week the shed had been cleared of all sharp tools and equipment, reminders of the Muggle farmer who used to live here years ago. Inside was some soft bedding in a corner, with some old blankets and a pillow. It didn't look very comfortable. There was nothing else in the shed except a plate with some of his favorite snacks on it, but Remus didn't feel particularly hungry. The shed smelled like petrol and old grass clippings. There was a hole in the roof of one corner of the shed, through which Remus glimpsed the darkening sky. It somehow made him feel less trapped, and he was thankful for that little hole.

His mother planted several hard kisses on his face, and his father embraced him roughly, kissing the top of his head. Then they backed out of the shed.

"Good night, my sweet," his mother whispered huskily, her face wet with tears.

And the door shut.

Outside Remus heard incantations, and he knew that the adults were magically sealing the door and strengthening the walls, just as Mum and Dad had said they would do. They had also magically lengthened the walls into the ground so that he wouldn't be able to dig his way out. Remus didn't think he would be capable of digging through this packed earth, much less destroying anything; but the Healers had told him he would become quite strong and determined when he transformed.

Remus paced the edge of the shed, his heart starting to race. The thudding felt like the rapid heartbeat of his pet rabbit, Dylan, and it thumped faster than he ever knew it could. Realizing he had left his gloves outside on the ground and feeling suddenly quite cold, he thrust his hands deeply into his pockets. Remus measured out the space of the shed as he walked along the periphery, trying to distract his mind by counting his strides, slowly, heel to toe, breathing in and out with each deliberate step. Perhaps nothing at all will happen, he kept saying to himself. As he neared the door again, he could hear his mother crying and his father speaking in low tones to her. They must have been sitting right next to the door. Remus sat with his back to the door and closed his eyes, trying to pretend that they were in here with him. He felt very frightened and close to tears himself; but he had promised to be brave. He would not let his parents down.

For several long minutes, nothing happened. He began to think he was right, that it was all a mistake. Remus looked up at the hole in the roof and saw a few faint stars peeping at him from the growing darkness. His grandmother's nursery rhyme bit into his thoughts and he spoke it aloud in a small voice.

I see the moon

the moon sees me

God bless the moon

and –

Suddenly Remus's entire body cramped and he doubled over onto the dirt floor, clawing the earth with his fingers. The room was upside down as his forehead hit the ground, and everything was whirling, suddenly bright, suddenly vivid and garish. He felt his mouth open into a scream, and thought he heard his parents calling his name. Why weren't they here? His eyes closed involuntarily as pain tore through every part of him. His scream sounded strange, not like himself, and that frightened him almost more than the pain. He wanted to escape, escape, escape … and soon, mercifully, he lost all awareness …

When Remus opened his eyes again, he didn't know where he was. It felt as if a month had passed, or perhaps just a minute. Every part of him hurt, and he felt incredibly tired. He was crouching face down on dirt, knees underneath his torso, head turned to one side and arms resting at strange angles. From the corner of his eye he saw light through a hole in the roof. Where was he? That patch of light was too bright in this dark room. He tried to turn his head to the other side, away from the light; but he couldn't move, nor could he focus his eyes on anything; wherever he was, the place seemed to be spinning. He was shaking violently, and he had no clothes on. His arms and legs stung as if he had been running through brambles. He felt wetness on his contorted face and realized he was crying.

"Mum?" he called hoarsely – too quietly, he was sure, to be heard, if anyone was around at all.

Suddenly a door burst open and his parents had turned him over and were holding him tightly. He felt his mother's tears on his forehead and his father's rough stubble on his cheek.

Remus woke, breathing heavily, and immediately got out of bed. While his friends slept, he paced the bed tower, listening to the soft padding of his own bare feet across the cool stone, back and forth, back and forth. Sweat trickled down his back. Finally he lumbered down to the dark, empty Common Room, took off his pajama top, opened a window, and leaned out into the bitter night air. The rough, cold stone under his palms was reassuring. He inhaled deeply, once, twice, listening to the sounds of the crickets. Presently, somewhere in the darkness, a wolf howled. Remus looked toward the Forbidden Forest, imagining the animal pausing over a tree root, signaling other members of its pack, calling for its mate.