A/N:I don't own any of it. If I did, would I be writing fanfiction? ...Yes. But I don't own it.

Thanks to LoverFaery for reviewing and Story Alerting, and to heiressofanor for Story Alerting.

Remus's first transformation was mostly pain. The day before, his parents had prepared by emptying the basement, fitting the door with a bolt lock, and casting spells around the house so that even wizards wouldn't be able to hear any howls. They had each given him a hug, and then they had locked him in the basement. Remus waited, wondering when his transformation would take place. He sat on the concrete floor, fidgeting with a small piece of paper. It was a long time later and the paper had fallen to pieces when he felt the first twinges of transformation. It started with bones shifting and growing at incredible speed, with muscles knitting and stretching to keep up, skin pulling, fur springing up everywhere, claws growing out of paw-hands. He felt strong, like he could rip apart another wolf his size. He felt like he could run faster than he had ever dreamed. He ran a lap around the room, and found it was true. His sense of smell was heightened, multiplied even, and his vision was crystal clear. All his senses were so improved that he could feel tiny vibrations in the cement floor- people walking above him. He could hear them, and smell them. Food. He could tell there were two distinct scents, and his own. He felt like he knew the people they were connected to, but couldn't remember. In this form he thought less clearly. He ran up the staircase, slammed his body against the door. It didn't move. He could not get at the human prey. He snarled, howled, hated being a wolf, hated being human, ripped at the walls, clawed and bit at his own body, ran as fast as he could around the tiny basement, and finally fell asleep.

The letter from Hogwarts told Remus that he would be a threat to students and would therefore be unenrolled from Hogwarts. Remus told the letter exactly what he thought of its opinion and burned it.

Sirius's mum instisted that he at least be tutored in magic until he began at Hogwarts. Sirius agreed, mostly because he was surprised that his mother did not push tutors replacing Hogwarts. When he asked her about it, she told him, stiffly, that some things had to be learned by socializing with other children. "Otherwise you'd be all alone in this house when your father and I die. That would be quite unbecoming of a Black." Sirius didn't think alone sounded so bad.

His tutor, Samuel Rayala, was bald but not old. Sirius learned to pay attention to him, even though his voice was quiet, because he was interested in what he taught and went on tangents often, so that there was always something to learn or discuss.

"Your parents offered to buy you a wand, but you're not actually supposed to own one until you turn eleven. At Hogwarts you'll be taught wanded magic, but since you're already rather proficient in wandless, I think we'll work on that area." Mostly Sirius was taught spellwork, tailored to what he was already doing on his own. But Sirius also learned about wizarding history, magical plants, wild animals, medieval witch persecution, and muggles.

At his first lesson, he made his marble explode. At his second, he mended it. At his third, he got distracted in the middle of a spell and ended up turning his chair into a large rubber balloon. In a few weeks, he could perform levitation. He learned how to make his spells last longer, how to do them without seeing the object he was trying to enchant. At the end of three years, he could cast a Patronus Charm.

Now ten, he let his hair grow to his chin, perfected a disdainful sneer, and started reading muggle magazines he fished out of trashcans. He spent most of his time stretching his magic to the limit, and his mother's patience followed suit. He set all the furniture in the house to chasing Kreacher, and wound up so drained he fainted. It took his mum two hours to break the spell. It took Sirius, after being revived, a week to repair all of the chairs, bureaus, wardrobes, casserole pots, beds, portraits, rugs, and other household miscellanaea.

Hardly a month later, after a heated argument with the daughter of a family friend, he managed to accidently wipe her entire memory blank. His mum flew into a rage; his dad threatened very quietly to send him to the muggle military if anything like that happened again. The instant his mum quieted enough, he fell asleep and didn't wake for three days.

When he did wake, it was to Regulus' voice, asking, "Are you coming down for dinner? Because Mum and Dad want you to get right back to your lessons afterwards."

Sirius sighed. "Regulus," he said, "I want a motorcycle."

"Remus," his father said, "We spoke to Professor Dumbledore yesterday."

"I don't care," said Remus. "It's like you told me. There's too much prejudice. I'm better off homeschooled."

"Remus, the headmaster thinks that if you agree to certain precautions on the day of the full moon each month, he can grant you a place at Hogwarts." His father's eyes were shining and his voice was a little choked up.

"But I won't have any friends," said Remus. Not that he had any friends here... "Everyone will be afraid..."

"Remus, nobody will have to know. It will be between you and Dumbledore and the school nurse."

Remus looked away. " I don't know if I want to."

"Remus, it's the only thing you've been looking forward to for the last three years!"

"I don't think I can do it."

"Do what? Sure you can. You're brilliant. You can do anything you put your mind to." He sighed. "Look, go for a semester, okay? Give it a try. And if you hate it, we'll figure something else out. But it's the best wizarding school in the country, and Dumbledore is a genius."

Remus looked at the padded, padlocked door that led to the basement. He shook his hair a little so that it covered his eyes. It had grown from its kindergarten bowl cut into a longish, uneven mop that fell into his eyes. It made him feel like a lion. Sometimes Remus wished he could turn into a lion instead of a wolf. Most of the time he wished he never had to transform at all. But I don't get that choice. I have a choice here.

His father leaned forward and brushed Remus' hair back. "What do you think?"

"Can I think about it?"

"Absolutely." The man looked relieved. Remus smiled and turned instinctively to go to the park before remembering that he avoided that place ever since his accident. Instead he headed upstairs to crawl onto the roof.

"Your mother wants me to teach you how to better control your magic. I didn't like her tone," said Rayala, smiling. "But she has a point. You need to learn to keep your magic separate from your emotions."

"Maybe I should tell her I did those things on purpose." Sirius said.

"Did you really?" Rayala laughed. "The point remains that both times you completely drained yourself. And I have reason to suspect that you've come close to doing so much more frequently than that. Apparently none of your family finds it odd that you sleep fourteen-hour nights. Ten-year-old boys should get somewhere between eight and eleven hours. You're obviously building up an energy deficit of some sort."

"How do you know how much sleep I'm getting?" Sirius asked, suspicious.

"Legilimancy. A very complex and difficult branch of magic, which I'm not at liberty to teach you. So to begin today's lesson, I'm going to need you to do that breathing excercise we used-"

"Hold on," said Sirius. "Is legi-what some sort of sleep monitoring spell?"

"It's a spell that can reveal someone's thoughts or thought patterns to the user," his tutor said patiently. "To an accomplished Legilimens like me, determining sleep patterns from this information is easy enough."

"You can read my mind," said Sirius flatly.

"Well, it's not quite that simple," said Rayala. "It's more like I can tell the general gist of what you're thinking. If I use it as a direct spell, with an incantation, I can see memories and thoughts. And no, I can't teach you. For one thing, it's too advanced. Now to continue with the lesson."

As Sirius did his breathing excercises, he decided to teach himself that spell.

Remus's letter arrived three weeks before his eleventh birthday. It had a formal invitation, a list of materials, and a sheet of paper that was most certainly not in the letters other students would receive. In loopy handwriting, it read:

Remus Lupin: In order to ensure your safety and comfort during your periods of illness, a small house has been constructed for you just off school grounds, accessable only by a well-guarded tunnel. The school nurse, Madame Pomfrey, will escort you there on the evening of the full moon each month.

After the school feast, please see your Head of House for further information.

Best regards,

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore

Remus had agreed to his father's terms: A "trial" semester, after which he would be free to drop out for homeschooling.

"There's a very possible danger of alienation with werewolves, especially those bitten at a young age who never learn to make friends," his mother told him as they browsed Flourish & Blots for schoolbooks. She kept her voice low. "This is an important step for you."

"But what if I don't make any friends?" Remus asked, locating a textbook (The Young Spellcaster's Guide to Elementary Defense) and putting it in their shopping bag. "What's next on the list?"

"Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Look under S. And honey, of course you'll make friends. Don't worry. Nobody else knows anyone, either. They'll all want to be your friend."

Finding Fantastic Beasts, Remus idly flipped through it until an entry near the back caught his eye. Werewolves. Remus shut the book and put it in the bag before he could read any more. "There's something wrong with seeing yourself listed in a book of animals," he remarked to his mother, keeping his voice steady. She caught him up in a hug. "That's not who you are, Reem." Her voice was somehow fierce. "You're so much more than that. You can't let your life be defined by an illness. You can't let that one thing dictate your life." She held him at arm's length. "I'm proud of you," she said, and she looked it.

"What for?" Remus didn't want both of them to start crying in the bookstore, but things were heading that way.

"You're going to Hogwarts. You're going to give yourself a chance at having a normal life, and friends. So many children are lycanthropic, and so few have gone to Hogwarts. You'll be great. You'll be fine."

Remus hugged his mother tightly and then let go, moving towards the Charms section. "What's the next title?"

"Sirius, what exactly is a motorcycle?" Regulus, now nine, asked his older brother.

Sirius pulled a slim magazine from his bookshelf. "Here's a picture." He flipped to a page with a large, shiny photo of a metal Muggle machine.

Regulus stared. "I don't get it."

"Muggles use them to travel. They're really terrific. They have only two wheels, and an engine, and they're large and shiny. I want to enchant one so it flies."

"Whoa," said Regulus, eyes wide.

"That's right," said Sirius. "But they're pretty expensive, so I'll probably get an old one and fix it up." There was no way his mum would pay for something so completely separate from her pure-blooded world.

"Can I go on it?" Regulus asked, entranced, staring at the magazine photo.

"Sure, but I probably won't get one for a while." Sirius smiled at his brother's awe. Turning to his wardrobe, he started packing for school, even though it was three weeks away.