(Time for everybody's favorite werewolf! Soundtrack for the Chapter: The Used - Bird and the Worm (which I don't own, obviously). I don't know; I tend to listen to music when I write, so I figured I'd share the songs for each chapter. Just in case anyone wanted to listen as low-volume background music or whatever while reading to kind of hear what I heard. Or is that a stupid and distracting idea? Well, regardless, here's the chapter!)
(First Week of September – Year One (earlier that same evening))
Eight – One of a Kind
He stood in front of the cracked mirror, frozen with tiny beads of sweat.
The sun was almost at the bottom of the horizon now, and stars were taunting him. Their good old pal, the moon, was nearly fully risen.
"Come on, Remus, get a hold of yourself…" He spoke to his reflection. A fit of tremors rippled through his body once more.
Yesterday morning, Dumbledore had contacted him.
"I have been informed that Voldemort has gained support from Fenrir Greyback and his followers." Just at the name, Remus had clenched his fists. Not at the name nearly all of the magical world choked at, but Fenrir's. Dumbledore had continued. "I'm afraid that soon almost all werewolves are going to be on his side, Remus. I know that you are different; you have proven yourself time and time again to be a person more worthy than most who aren't inflicted.
"I know it is a huge burden you must carry on your thoughts, but I feel that your condition may be an asset to the Order. We may have to rely on you to get to as many werewolves as possible that the darkness has not yet spread to. I won't need your help just yet, but in times to come, can I count on you?"
Remus's answer had been easy. "Of course."
Things weren't looking so easy, now.
Remus had thought of the conversation. It was nice how Dumbledore had referred to it as an illness or a condition. Most people in authority who knew spoke to Remus addressing "his kind", or "your kind". He didn't want to be of the same kind as Fenrir Greyback.
Fenrir Greyback… He had been the one to make Remus… what he was.
Remus could still remember the night as if it was yesterday… That night still haunted his sleep, even after all this time…
His father had been angry for weeks. He had mentioned the name once or twice. Remus had known even at his young age that his father was also scared. He had offended someone powerful.
That night, his parents were down the hall, in the kitchen. It had been a full moon on a summer night, and Remus had gone to open his window. Out of nowhere, came a beast so foul and horrid. Its eyes were a gleaming pair of sickly yellow, and its teeth were dripping. It wasn't simply scary; it was… sinister. It was malicious. Remus barely had time to scream before it had torn at him.
By the time his father rushed in, armed at wand, the beast had given a menacing sneer, and was running free through the forest, leaving Remus in a tumult of pain before he blacked out.
His parents had sought every source of help they could possibly find. The healers had tried their best. He was lucky to be alive, they said, but it couldn't be helped.
He was a werewolf.
Remus had never thought his life would be normal thereafter. But then he got to Hogwarts… His friends had helped him. It hadn't taken James and Sirius, two of the cleverest wizards in Hogwarts, long to figure it out. Remus had been terrified for their response, but to his massive surprise… they didn't care. They looked out for him. They had helped him cope with being… what he was. They had accepted him.
If only the rest of the world was as wonderful as the Marauders… He owed them the life he had.
Only the faintest rim of sunlight was visible from the window of the Shrieking Shack. Another shudder waved across his skin.
He had seen Greyback in human form once, in a photograph. That man, that thing, was disgusting. A feral beast, even when the moon wasn't round in the sky. And now he and his followers were running loose with the greatest source of evil the century had to offer. Tonight alone, how many would die by Voldemort's command and their attack? To think that a pack of savages would be transformed each month… The thought sickened him; it terrified him.
Remus stared at his reflection.
"You aren't one of them." He told himself. "Don't let it happen. You can do it… you can control it…"
But the sun was gone, and the moon was sitting bright and jeering in the sky.
Resist it, he told himself… His muscles grew, his bones stretched…Resist it… fur was spreading like wildfire across his skin. He knew he couldn't resist… And his consciousness was gone.
He was Remus Lupin no longer.
He was a werewolf.
He slashed at the mirror, furious at the face of another. He howled and clawed; he ran loose throughout the dying house. He hunted the walls, he preyed upon the curtains. His friends weren't here to help him tonight.
Tonight, just like all of the others, he was one of "his kind".
(Reviews are appreciated to the point of near exaltation! Constructive criticism is extremely welcome, too! To come: a ceremony and a goodbye…)