Last paragraph is already written and waiting to be reached – you'll just have to bear with the story for now!
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"They'll never make you a prefect, you know."
James glanced hurriedly around the dark room, searching for the owner of the voice.
"Remus? That you?" He tried to keep his voice steady, but there was a notable shake in it.
"Who else are we expecting?" So saying, Remus Lupin stepped out into the patch of moonlight in the middle of the room. James' eyes had just about grown accustomed to the low-light of the room, but still he had to swallow down a gasp of shock. Memories of the previous evening flooded his brain, and somehow, although he knew it was impossible, Remus seemed a little taller, his figure a little more striking. Outlined in the moonlight, his lean frame seemed almost ethereal, yet James sensed the deception of wiry strength – as though, at any moment, he was an animal, poised to strike.
Involuntarily, he took a step back.
"Scared, James?" Remus sounded mildly amused.
"It's like you're different – I can't explain it, mate"
"Ah," Remus raised an eyebrow surreptitiously, "Mates again are we?"
"Course," James' reply was as blunt as his temper. Although he did feel that, however burning his curiosity was, it might be wise to tread carefully – at least until he knew what he was involved in. "Now – err – are you gonna finally tell me what's going on?" adding as a final concession, "Please?"
Sighing, Remus looked straight at his friend; he couldn't avoid it any longer. "Ok James, take a seat; I'm going to tell you everything."
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Taking a deep breath, Remus John Lupin collected his thoughts and fixed his eyes, unblinking, on James Potter.
"It all started when I was younger, aged about five I think; my parents and I lived happily in a small cottage down in the South. My father worked away at the Ministry, so my mother stayed home to look after me and keep me company; I have no siblings and there were few wizarding families nearby. I suppose I was quite a lonely child, but I never really minded much – I was content to spend my days immersed in books and wandering around the countryside. I was never allowed a broom; my mother feared that I might come to some injury or get lost, and couldn't cope with my father absent so often.
Then it all changed. I remember the day quite clearly; my mother had been baking and my father was due in from work – the first time in a month. I stayed up late to see him when he arrived, for I always missed him terribly when he was away; a boy at that age needs his father. I heard the knock on the door and ran down to answer it, my mother hung back in the kitchen, laughing at my eagerness. I pulled open our front door, expecting to see my father standing there, arms open, pockets full of the usual tiny presents; but he wasn't there. Instead, I opened the door and-"
Remus stopped abruptly, and James saw that he was pale and shaking. Wondering what could have prompted this change in demeanour, and concerned for his friend, James got up and went to sit by Remus. Gripping his shoulder for support, he gave him a brief squeeze, indicating that the young Gryffindor should continue his story.
"There was a werewolf," Remus blurted out. But before James could interrupt, the boy carried on quickly, as though afraid he would lose his nerve.
"A werewolf that stood tall and menacing on its haunches; saliva dripped from its hideous jaws, stained fangs reflecting the full moon like unearthly tombstones in that cavernous maw.. It's eyes were terrible..."
Remus gulped loudly and his hand reached up to grip James' own on his shoulder.
"It sprung before I had time to move. I can only remember the pain; my mother's screams; and that blood-curdling noise – it seemed to be the very groan of death. That noise overcame all else; I closed my eyes and felt nothing more."
He stopped again, but this time James didn't interrupt. They both sat in absorbed silence until Remus got up the courage to continue his tale.
"I woke up a week later to find myself heavily bandaged and resting in bed; mother by my side. The first thing I wanted to know was where my father was. I cared nothing for own injury's, all I wanted was the safety of my father's presence – to feel his arms around me once more. My mother tried to distract me at first with books and hugs, but I persisted. Eventually, she tearfully admitted that he had been at home five days before, but had left for London again almost straight away. She said that he had taken one look at me and..."
Remus gulped again, blinking back those forgotten tears of memory. James felt him grip his hand a little harder.
"He was too ashamed of both his son and himself to stay. I never saw him again."
Drawing a deep breath, he carried on, now practically forcing the words out.
"Later on, I was to learn that it was my father's fault that I'd been attacked. I didn't know, but my father worked for the Ministry in the 'Beast' division of the 'Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures'. He had been heading a top-secret mission on the locating and capturing of a rogue clan of werewolves, who were becoming notoriously vicious and active in their attacks. During a raid on a local copse, he had come close to mortally wounding their leader: an unforgiving individual by the name of Fenrir Greyback. He plotted to return the insult, and get back at my father in the worst way possible: to savage his only son, and simultaneously transform him into his father's most hated enemy. So although my injuries healed in less than two weeks, I had been irrevocably damaged by the attack. I was now a carrier of the worst and most incurable illness on this Earth."
Remus turned around to look at his friend, and, holding him in a steady gaze, uttered the sentence that would change their lives forever.
"Yes, James – I had become a werewolf."
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The floor beneath their feet seemed to spin and whirl away from them, as each continued to stare, unblinking, into the other's eyes. Whole minutes ticked away into oblivion as they held that gaze, transfixed, afraid that whoever broke away first would have to speak.
After what seemed like an age, Remus plucked up his courage and spun quickly away, so that he didn't have see James' face convulse into waves of hatred and horror. Yet, feeling that he had left the tale slightly unfinished, he decided to blurt out the remnants of his tale.
"The rest is pretty simple. It was too dangerous to let me out during my transformations, and so, at the full moon, my mother would lead me to the underground shelter at the bottom of our garden, and lock me in there overnight, until I was safe once again. In those days, my transformations were terrible; with no victims to bite, I would chew, tear and claw at my own body, and, blinded by the agony, would howl myself hoarse in that dark hell. I spent much of my childhood in bed recovering from each transformation, and waiting in sick anticipation for the next. I had few friends – it simply wasn't safe to let me out in the world – and so instead I became absorbed in books and learning, convinced that there must be a way to beat the disease.
Eventually, the time came when I was to attend a proper school; my mother was as shocked as I to receive my Hogwarts letter, yet, arrive it did. Within seconds of its appearance, my mother had sat me down to write a letter to Professor Dumbledore, to explain why it would be difficult and indeed dangerous for me to attend school. I was prepared for a negative reply, and so did not get my hopes up. However, when the reply came, it was to say that there was no reason why I should not go to Hogwarts. The headmaster himself came to deliver this message to us personally; he explained that, while my circumstances were unusual, they were not impossible to deal with. I would even say that I think he relished the challenge of taking me on. He promised that all would be sorted and that safety measures were being put into place as we spoke. He then bid us farewell, and reminded my mother that my school supplies would need to be bought in the next couple of days.
I was elated to find myself, after a hectic week of shopping, high-spirits and a tearful farewell, to find myself sitting on the train to Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I had never dreamt that I could be so happy, when only weeks before I had been considering ending my life completely. Yet soon I was happily immersed in lessons, flying, books, and more importantly, friends. For the first time in my life I had friends.
Dumbledore had told no-one about my condition except Madam Pomfrey, he said it was best to keep things under wraps. So, every full moon, he would escort me to the Whomping Willow in the grounds, and from there, I would enter a secret passage that leads directly to the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. I would spend the night there, safe from civilisation during my transformations, and, although they were still immensely painful, I would be escorted back every morning to Madam Pomfrey who would deal with my wounds. She's fantastic with bites and scratches, and most of the time, they are gone by the next day, and no-one is any the wiser.
So, there you have it. That is my great secret, James, and I beg that you keep it to yourself. You may be wondering why it is that I choose to live through one night of agony every four weeks, and why it isn't better to perhaps end my life and its pain. Before you ask though, I will answer. It's you James; you and Sirius and Peter – my friends. You're the ones that make all this worth it; all this secrecy and pain – for the first time in my life I have something to look forward to and enjoy. Friendship, James – don't ever underestimate the power of love."
So saying, Remus sighed slowly and bowed his head, allowing the tears to form quite freely now, and run, unashamed down his tired face.
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A slightly longer chapter! But I had to get the story concept chugging along nicely – what do you think?
R & R as always!