February 26, 1964
The full moon was fast approaching, and given the events at the Ministry the month previous, Lyall Lupin was waiting nervously for the next night. He had spent hours over the last month buried in the library at the Ministry, reading anything he could on werewolves. He knew they transformed for one night only, on the full moon, and that when they were transformed, their bites would have disastrous consequences. According to his research, most adults who were attacked didn't survive. Children, however, were most often turned; they were infected with lycanthropy and no longer considered human. There was no cure for lycanthropy, and those afflicted were cast out, forced to live on the edge of society. As a result, they grew into hardened, evil, soulless creatures, much like he had accused Fenrir Greyback of being only a month ago.
During his research, Lupin had learned of a nameless werewolf who seemed to thrive on spreading the incurable virus to as many as possible, especially small children. At every full moon for the last several years, at least one child, often times more, was attacked. About half of them died. The other half… the other half realized the full impact of what happened a month later, at the next full moon. Lyall had read countless descriptions of transformations written by loved ones- parents, siblings, friends, all of whom had watched a child they cared for grow and stretch, and change to become a hideous, uncontrollable beast. The heartbreak of those forced to watch was palpable, and terrifying. Lyall could feel the fear coming through the words on the parchment. He was nervous for his son, his young, fierce and loving boy who would be five in just a few short weeks. Of all the reports he read regarding attacked children, the age range of three to six had been the most frequently victimized. And Lyall knew, even though the wolf wasn't named, who had been targeting such young souls.
Fenrir Greyback was an unregistered werewolf, Lyall was sure of it. That day at the ministry when Auror Daily had brought a muggle "hobo" in to be questioned, Lyall was sure of the man's proclivity. There was something about his eyes, the way they flashed golden when no one but Lupin was looking at him. The man had sat there calmly, not reacting or responding in any way when Lupin was screaming at him, accusing him of monstrous acts. A cold feeling had stolen over him as he pleaded with Randolf Drone to keep Greyback confined until the full moon, and he had realized that his pleas were falling on deaf ears. A pit had formed in his stomach that day, and if anything, it had only gotten deeper and darker in the days since. Now, the child-hunting werewolf had a face and a name. If it truly was Greyback attacking those children for the sheer intent of passing on his disease, Lupin knew that soon, Greyback would come for his revenge. And he knew, deep in his heart that his revenge would involve Remus.
After work that day, Lyall had gone home to his family, terrified of the enemy he had made. He had watched through the window as Remus came running towards the door when he heard the crack of his father's arrival. He had watched as his wife's eyes followed the boy, a soft smile on her face, as excited as her son was to see Lyall. Before he opened the door, he had taken care to plaster a smile on his lips, not wanting to worry his wife or frighten his son by the thoughts he was sure were written across his face.
Hope was a muggle. And while Lyall had told her things over the years they had been together, she understood little of what it meant to be part of the magical world. To Hope, werewolves and boggarts were creatures of fairy tales. She accepted that magic existed, Lyall could prove that. Even Remus, young as he was, showed signs of magical ability. Magic, Hope could understand in certain ways. What she was ignorant of was the dark side of the wizard world.
She didn't know about the evil creatures that existed, the wizards who favored and practiced the Dark Arts, the curses and hexes that could injure or kill someone without leaving a mark. She didn't know about the prejudice against muggles that existed among many of the "pure blood" wizarding families. Lyall and Remus were the only experience she had with the wizarding world. Even though they were married, Lyall had tried to keep that part of his life as separate from Hope as he could. He hadn't wanted to frighten her. And Remus was only four; they had time yet before his education began. He had time to explain things still. Or at least, he had planned on having time.
Now, a month later and nearly at the full moon, Lupin had yet to tell his wife of his encounter with Greyback. He didn't know how to explain it. How could he tell his wife that the monsters in Remus's fairy tale books were real? How could he tell her that he had provoked one of the beasts, and that he was afraid for their lives? It had been almost a month- the full moon was tomorrow. He had kept the secret, afraid of her reaction, afraid to lose her and his son.
Of course she had noticed; she was his wife, how could she not? He was anxious and jumpy, especially at night. When he was home, his eyes often had a faraway look in them. He had skipped dinners, and even stopped reading Beedle the Bard stories to Remus, so consumed was he in looking for a solution. Every minute he had, he was digging through his dark arts and dark creatures books, looking for a way to stop Greyback, a way to protect his family. He had begun casting charms on his home- enchanted locking spells on all the windows to prevent entry, cave inimicum to alert him if anyone came near, protego horribilis, a dark-arts specific shield charm and fianto duri, a shield spell strengthener. He had taken all the precautions he could. The full moon was one night away, there was nothing left to do but wait.
The next morning, Lyall woke with a nauseous feeling in his belly. Beside him, Hope still lay sleeping, a soft, serene expression on her face. For a moment, he was grateful. He was grateful that she could still feel that peace. Watching her, he promised himself that if there was any way to keep her from knowing what he had done, he would do so.
As he swung his legs sideways to get out of bed, he bumped another form. His young son, Remus, was tucked in by his feet, his small, brown head resting against his mother's ankle. Gazing fondly at the sleeping boy, he wasn't surprised when the nausea threatened to explode. He scrambled from the bed and barely made it to the loo. He was able to cast a silencing charm before his stomach turned itself out. Thankful that the two sleeping bodies behind him didn't hear, he dressed quickly and quietly before heading down to the kitchen.
A glance at the calendar Hope insisted on hanging next to the window showed him that it was indeed the twenty-seventh, and that tonight, the moon would be full. With a short flick of his wand, the teapot filled itself with water and settled on the heated burner on the stove, and his gaze drifted towards the window. It was still dark, the sun not yet breaking over the forest that surrounded his home, and he peered into the stillness, hoping his family was safe, and that nothing and no one was lurking among the trees. His gaze shifted, skimming along the tree-line, looking for any telltale movement. Seeing nothing and hearing the whistle of the teapot, he turned away from the window. As his moved towards the stove, the branches directly across from the kitchen window wavered, even though there was no breeze to push them. Had Lyall glanced over his shoulder, he would have caught a flash of gold as the sun reflected on two angry eyes watching the house.