I dedicate this chapter to Robin Williams in the time of his unfortunate death. For me, as well as many other readers, he was the actor that basically created our childhood.

Chapter 6

Remus

A sudden gasp of pain struck Remus' body like a tonne of needles hammering heavily. He withered on the bed, desperate to keep quiet in order not to wake the others. This was not the first time he experienced the severe sensation of his body being ripped apart violently, just a small fraction of what he went through every full moon when he gave himself over to become the creature of the night.

'Just breathe,' he thought calmly, attempting to calm his nerves as he desperately grasped the sheets of the bed, gritting his teeth; he would not allow a slightest glimpse of pain.

Not in Hogwarts. Not now. Not when he finally seized the chance to become something, a chance to overcome his cursed nature.

'I can manage this,' he whispered quietly, feeling the waves turning into tingles of pain, only to eventually completely disperse from his body.

He felt sore; his body a dried piece of parchment, ready to crumble at the slightest of touch. A waterfall of sweat was trickling down his temples, the only living remainder of the struggle he just went through. The pain disappeared as instantly as it arrived, sheer seconds being enough to save Remus from continuing waves of pain.

He took a deep breath and sat on his bed, his feet dangling off the edge, skimming the relieving cold surface of the stone floor. He cleared his eyes and tousled his hair, mere attempts to seize control of his body once more. Even though he was aware that the full moon was coming, he also knew that he would no longer experience the bliss experience of sleep on the night.

He sighed heavily and stood up, walking over to the window, silent as a shadow. Judging by the shimmering stars and the gloom that surrounded the whole castle, it was a middle of the night. He remained by the window for a while longer, welcoming the gust of wind that stroked his face almost in a tenderly manner. Fresh air always aided him in regaining control of his body.

He remembered the long mornings which he spent on the terrace outside his house, few hours since experiencing the horrible sensation of turning into something completely inhuman. He remembered the pain being soothed by the flowing wind which, just like now, eased his wounds, both physical and mental.

Remus' contemplation was interrupted by a loud snore coming from one of the beds located the closest to the doors. Remus froze for a moment, waiting for a notice of a slightest glimpse of movement, yet the snore happened to be both the beginning and the end. After anticipating the silhouette of the boy simply turning from one side to another, Remus closed his eyes in relief.

He knew he couldn't stay in the common room. It was too dark and he wouldn't risk lighting one of the candles he always kept in his ragged jacket, candles which were always ready to accompany him as he ventured into numerous books, exploring them during long, wide awake nights.

He snatched the book placed on the very bottom of his trunk and slowly manoeuvred his way out of the bedroom. Upon entering the common room, a heat wave swung at him immediately, warmth of the fireplace already spread round the entire room.

Remus welcomed the loneliness and took a seat on the couch as the flames cracked happily, dozens of faces dancing inside the flames. The boy stared at the tongues of fire, lost in deep thought, his hands mind absently stroking the hide covered book. His mind was suddenly flickered out of the contemplation upon hearing the bristling of numerous pages of the book, simply waiting to be uncovered.

Lycanthropy, a simple and unsuspecting title for a book that proved to be the most useful of Remus' limited resources that covered his unfortunate state, had helped Remus to deal with most of his early symptoms as well as pain that came with them. From time to time, Remus simply took out the tome to simply once again go through it, always discovering some detail that had somehow slipped his notice the reading before. This particular time, he decided to venture into the chapter covering the lack of consciousness upon the transformation.

'The key to understand the nature of the werewolf is simply a comprehension of the animal instinct that takes over the individual the very second a full moon hangs over the diseased. All of his human emotions, feelings, habits – they all disappear, replaced by the most basic and revolting need. The need to kill. The transformed human does not recall any of his human life nor does he recognize the people. Given the way, the creature would without the slightest hesitation murder their own kin in their blood lust,'

Remus continued his read, letting he book completely absorb him for the continuing hours. Upon finishing the chapter, he moved onto the next, and the next yet the book was so thick that a bystander would notice no difference. As the first ray of sunshine delicately slipped its way into the common room through the high vaulted window, Remus recapped the early symptoms leading up to the full moon as well as the way in which the werewolf venom pierces its way through the human body to reach the brain and complete the transformation.

He was suddenly interrupted from his activity as he sensed somebody else's presence. He glanced up to notice a small, mousy brown haired boy of a slight hunch shaking at the entrance, looking at him nervously.

'Hello,' the newcomer squeaked, taking an extreme interest in the tips of his fingernails.

Remus smiled and answered politely, trying to lead the conversation. He learnt that no one was to be judged from their appearance. He himself suffered greatly from various people's ignorance. Yet being violently ripped apart from the book, he could not help but feel remotely irritated. He secretly opened up his book once again, carefully ensuring that the boy would not see the title and buried his nose in its contents. He sensed the boy walking away from him towards the door.

He peeked over the top of the volume and saw a truly miserable sight – the boy hunched even more, the unintentional rejection weighing him down visibly. Remus opened his mouth and closed it again, only to then retort nervously 'See you there,'. He wasn't completely sure how yet he sensed the other boy smile feebly before taking his leave.

As groups of students began descending down into the common room to form small crowds, Remus made his way back upstairs for a morning shower. He also changed into his brand new black robes. He smothered the gentle material of the cloak as he found his way in the confusion of Hogwarts, travelling through various moving staircases, each mobile one making him feel sick as they spun around their axis, changing their direction. Upon reaching the Great Hall, he glanced over at Gryffindor Table and spotted an empty bench at the very end, mere metres away from the Staff Table. He made his way over there, keeping his head down low. Taking his seat, he packed his plate with the food closest to him and started eating it lazily, knowing that he was to have plenty of time before his first period. He however took no pleasure in eating – the food tasted like a dry block of cardboard.

'Yet another perk of being a werewolf,' he thought sarcastically, shaking his head angrily. He never expected this particular symptom to reveal itself this quickly yet it seemed the odds were not in his favour. He continued to stubbornly chew the food down, his head not daring to look up even once.

'Hi!' an unexpected, high pitched voice sounded at his front, piercing him away from his silent struggle with swallowing the tasteless piece of bacon.

He reluctantly put his head up only to be presented to a waterfall of long, straight yet shiny red hair that seemed to shimmer in the sun. The hair belonged to a average-height girl of green eyes who was now grinning at Remus happily, merriness in her large eyes.

'Can I help you?' he asked politely, once again putting his head down.

'I'll remember this offer,' the girl said, grinning even wider as she took her seat opposite Remus' crossing her arms at her chest, 'What's your name?'

Remus was stunned by the girl's forwardness. He glared at her in astonishment, speech lost in his mouth.

'Well, I do think you have one, right?' the girl added after a moment of expectant silence, 'I'm Lily Evans,'

She thrust out her arm, expecting Remus' in return. The boy looked at her nervously then, as if held back by ropes, slowly extended his hand and shook hers, 'Remus Lupin,'.

She smiled happily as they exchanged the handshake. Suddenly she started wiggling his hand and shaking it ever more vigorously, now swinging her arm left and right, Remus forced to follow.

He could not suppress a giggle that escaped his mouth, an alien force that just casually jumped off the tip of his tongue. He almost forgot how to laugh, the sound being strange to his ears.

'So you DO speak!' the girl smiled, sitting back down and packing her plate with fried sausages and toast.

'Surprise, surprise,' Remus replied. He tried to sound sarcastic yet somehow the girl emitted such a positive aura that his usually bitter retorts sounded almost like human comments.

'So, how are you feeling about Transfiguration?'

Remus answered all the entire bombardment of questions, for once actually enjoying the company of another human being – this one, for a nice change, without a revolting look on her face. He noticed that she kept the entire conversation, her head bobbing up and down excitedly as she tattered about one of the chapters from One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi which she read and opinionated on what their first lesson is going to be about.

The longer the conversation lasted, the longer he felt like Remus a boy, not Remus a werewolf. The girl never let the conversation fall, continuously coming up with subjects that somehow happened to also be in Remus' area of interest.

Remus spent most of his morning talking to the newly met Lily Evans. As he watched wild tangles of hair jumping at her back at the end of the breakfast, Remus simply smiled and followed her out of the Great Hall. Many other people would recall this morning to be nothing out of extra ordinary yet for Remus Lupin, this was indeed a very special morning.

Peter

As Peter walked into the fairly empty Great Hall, he noticed several of his fellow first year students already sitting at the Gryffindor Table, happily chattering about Quidditch. Peter was a desperate fan of Wimbourne Wasps, only one of the traits he inherited after his mother. Peter heard strange stories spilling out of her mother's friends after one too many glasses of Firewhisky, several particularly interesting as they involved Peter's mother in her youth getting too drunk on homemade wizarding moonshine and storming onto a pitch during the Wimbourne Wasps game.

Peter stroked his thin brown hair nervously and trailed towards the table anxiously, deciding to sit a good few metres away from the children and listen in to their conversation.

'I'm telling you, Aubrey, there's not a chance of England qualifying into the next World Cup!'

'Are you bonkers? Look at their main squad!'

The whole conversation grew more and more fierce, both of the boys angrily reasoning with another.

Finally, a boy named Davey Gudgeon shouted over both of them, telling them to shut up as well as threatening to cast a newly learnt Leg-Binding Curse he tested on his cat.

Finally, as Peter anticipated, the conversation moved onto the topic of British teams. The children covered big most of them, discussing happily how a particular one managed last season.

'Wasps failed!'

'We both know that Wimbourne tend to have a great game!'

'It is recorded that most of the seasons the Wasps won occurred after a terrible previous season,' Peter heard himself say squeakily.

The crowd stopped its hubbub, eyeing him curiously. He managed to grin nervously as one of the boys picked up the topic, poking the other one furiously.

'Told you! See, even he knows more about Quidditch than you do!'

'No he doesn't!' the other boy retorted, angrily burying his head into his pate of scrambled eggs.

'Don't mind him. He's always like this,' the boy named Davey smiled at Peter, 'I'm Davey Gudgeon,'

'Peter. Peter Pettigrew,' squealed Peter. He was starting to like Hogwarts very, very much.

All copyrights go entirely to J.K Rowling.

Excuse the shortness yet I am still troubled with a lack of ideas, however the next chapter is already being written and will be significantly longer!