A/N: Once again, none of this is mine.
I looked back on Part 3, and I was looking at how someone labelled Peter a crybaby (exactly what I wanted!) and then got a bit dubious on this chapter, because I had Remus crying. I was going to change it, but didn't for two reasons - one, that would mean it would take a little longer (which means it wasn't ASAP); and two, I think he has a pretty damn good reason to be crying! So hopefully Remus doesn't come off as a whiny crybaby like Peter does.
The next part may take a little longer to post; I haven't written it yet. I've done like a quarter of it. So I have to finish it and then type it up. I don't know how long it will take, but I'll try to make it ASAP.
So here you go, enjoy. And review! Please, I need the motivation. :)

Part Four – Remus

Day broke slowly, the first rays of sun creeping through the woods. The light fell on the gnarled trees, the tangled bushes, and the form of a young, sandy-haired boy curled amid the twisted roots of one of the larger trees.

The boy stirred as the sunlight fell on him, and then slowly raised his head. There were dark shadows under his blue eyes. His arms, legs and face were a mess of bloody scratches. As the boy lifted a hand to wipe his eyes, he noticed the condition he was in. There was a look of resignation on his pale face. Then something about the blood he was covered in caught his attention. He raised his arm to his nose and sniffed. His expression turned to fear. The blood wasn't all his…

The boy looked around, taking in the scene around him. The roots of the tree he was sitting amongst were smeared lightly with blood. A trickle of the ruby-coloured liquid, drying to black in the early morning sunlight, marked the path he had travelled in the night. He looked closer and, to his horror, he saw small tufts of brown fur dotted along the line of blood.

The boy leaned his head back against the trunk of the tree, eyes closed. His drawn face showed a mixture of fear and revulsion. He tried to remember what had happened that night. He remembered pain, and frustration…the thrill of a chase…and the joy of success… He shivered in disgust, and shifted his focus to how he currently felt. There was pain…that was expected…and thirst…and tiredness…but the usual ache of starvation he felt on mornings like this wasn't there. Instead there was only a faint rumble of hunger. The boy's feelings of horror and disgust intensified, until he could physically feel it, an awful, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had eaten last night. Oh, God, no…

The boy stood up from his place amongst the twisted roots, and staggered along the path laid out by the drying blood. He needed to know, though he dreaded the discovery.

After following the bloody trail for what felt like forever, the boy finally came across the thing to which all the blood had once belonged. The mangled corpse of a rabbit was lying to the side of a small clearing.

The boy's stomach turned at the sight. His knees buckled, and he fell to the soft, earthy ground, vomiting violently.

*****

Faith Lupin glanced at the clock before peeking nervously out the kitchen window. The view was clam and peaceful – trees bathed in golden sunlight swayed in the gentle breeze, creating the familiar, comforting rustling that was ever-present as the forest surrounding the cottage came to life. The sights and sounds of the forest in the early morning normally filled Faith with a calm happiness. But not today. Her kind face was etched with worry. She turned to face her husband.

"What if–" she started, but John Lupin cut her off.

"Don't worry, Faith," he said. His voice was calm but Faith could see the concern in his eyes.

"But he's normally back by now. What if–"

Again her husband interrupted her. "He's been late home before. He'll be back before seven, I'll bet."

Faith frowned and turned back to the window.

"I worry about him so much…" she whispered.

John got up from his chair and embraced his wife.

"So do I, sweetheart," he said. "No child should have to live with a burden like this."

Faith nodded. "It's not fair," she whispered, her voice barely audible. John kissed her lightly on the forehead.

"He'll be back soon." he said.

As if on cue, they heard the front door open. Faith rushed to the hall and John followed, breathing an unnoticed sigh of relief.

Faith embraced her son warmly, then held him at arm's length to examine him. The bloody condition he was in would have alarmed most mothers, but Faith Lupin took it in silently, assessing her son.

"Are you alright, Remus?" John asked. He could see that his son was upset.

Remus looked up at his father, and both parents could see that his blue eyes were showing more than the tiredness and pain they normally displayed on mornings like this. There was fear and disgust in them.

Faith and John led Remus to the lounge and sat him on the couch. Faith put her arm around her son and John looked straight into his haunted eyes.

"What's the matter, Remus?" John asked.

Remus flinched away from his father's gaze, choosing instead to stare at his knees.

"Please, Remus, we need to know." Faith said.

The boy didn't speak or look up.

John was about to say something more when his son spoke.

"I'm evil." he said flatly. His voice was hoarse.

Faith wrapped both her arms around him and John clasped his hand.

"No. You're not." John said. 'Remus, you're not, and you know that."

Tears had started falling silently down Remus's face.

"I am." he said, his voice steady. "Good people don't kill things."

Faith and John exchanged a glance over the top of their son's head.

"Sweetheart…" Faith started, but she broke off awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

"Was it something you came across in the woods?" John asked. Remus nodded.

"A rabbit," he said softly. "A helpless rabbit. It…I didn't just kill it. I destroyed it, mutilated it…" Faith and John were having difficulty understanding him. His voice was becoming softer and softer, and was starting to wobble. "And I ate it."

Tears had started to fall from Faith's eyes. John hugged his family in a strong, warm embrace. They sat like that for a while, Remus between his parents. He knew he shouldn't cry, knew that it wasn't helping. But he couldn't stop himself. Last night he had killed another living thing, for the first time he could remember. And now his parents were here, embracing him, stroking his hair, crying for him – why? Why did they put themselves through this? They should just get rid of me, Remus thought. Cast me out into the woods to live like the savage animal I am. And it was these thoughts that brought the tears.

But eventually the flow of tears slowed, and then finally stopped. Remus wiped his eyes, red and sore from crying. His parents loosened their arms, and looked at him.

"It's not your fault." John said, quietly but firmly.

"Why do you put up with me?" Remus said, his voice a hoarse whisper, barley audible.

"Remus, listen to me," Faith held her son's face and looked into his eyes. "We love, you, no matter what. You cannot change who you are. We'll love you no matter what happens."

"You tried to change me. Tried to make me…normal." Remus said.

"Yes, we tried to find a cure," John said. "And do you know why we stopped?"

"It was too expensive," replied Remus, who had overheard many of his parents' whispered conversations when he should've been in bed. John and Faith were both surprised by his answer, and John opened his mouth to question him, but Faith started talking before her husband could.

"It was because we accepted you for who you are," she said. "We accepted that you had this condition. We decided that rather than forever be chasing a cure that doesn't exist, we had to accept it, to accept that it wasn't going away."

"That's right,' John said. "We found it difficult at times, of course. We saw you struggling, always. And it was awful, to feel that helplessness. But you managed, and so did we. And no matter what happens, we will always be here for you, we'll always love you as you are."

Remus nodded. He understood. But still…

"I just wish I was normal." he said. "If I was, I'd be able to go and learn with everyone else."

Faith and John exchanged a happy smile. They may not be able to produce a miracle cure, but for once, they could tell their son something that would make him truly happy.

"We received a letter from Professor Dumbledore yesterday evening." Faith said.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Remus said, his head snapping up. "Of Hogwarts?"

"The one and only," John said. "He's coming over next week."

"Coming over? What, here? Why?"

"He wants to talk to you," John continued. "He wants to discuss your enrolment at Hogwarts."

Remus's mouth fell open, forming a perfect 'O'.

"But – my – how can –" he stuttered.

Faith laughed gently. "He said that it would be awful if a boy like you, a boy who so desperately wants to learn, was deprived of the opportunity of going to school."

"But – but what about – my condition?"

"Dumbledore says that as long as certain…precautions...are taken, there's no reason for you to be kept away from school." John replied.

Remus's face broke into a huge smile, a smile that banished the pain and sadness from his face.

"Really? Truly?" he asked, hardly daring to believe it. His parents both nodded, their faces mirroring their son's expression.

"So – so – we'll have to go to Diagon Alley – I need books – and robes- and –"

John silenced his son with a wave of his hand. "Yes, we will –"

"Today?" interrupted Remus. "Can we go today?"

"Absolutely not," Faith said. "You're tired. You go upstairs, have a bath, and go straight off to bed. We can go to Diagon Alley next week, when you're up to it."

Remus practically flew up the stairs, forgetting the ache of his limbs in his excitement. His parents laughed.

"A chance at a normal life," Faith murmured to herself.

John put her arm around his wife and squeezed her shoulder.

"He deserves it," he said. "He'll love it."