Errm...All I can say is that I love werewolves?
Disclaimer: Haven't I already done this? I'm sure you people all know from the last two chapters that I don't own Harry Potter. I do think that I own the idea that maybe Remus Lupin changed his name because he was famous, and I am definitely sure that I own the five ways to control a werewolf.
There are exactly five ways to control a transformed werewolf, with varying amounts of damage to said transformed werewolf.
The first is the most well known as this is the method the Ministry of Magic uses to control a werewolf. This method is that of silver. Anything with silver can control a werewolf, though only after giving the were silver poisoning does the silver work.
The second is that of animals. The presence of animals will calm a werewolf down as werewolves are creatures of socialization, so having an animal around that the werewolf will accept into their pack will calm down the werewolf. Rather like how having a trusted friend around can calm one from a towering rage. However, most animals are terrified of the werewolf.
The werewolf's mate, for third, will control the werewolf, although many do not ever find a true mate, only a spouse, if that. So, this was one of the least used methods.
Then you have any allergies the person may have, those get transferred over to the wolf, so, any allergen would control the wolf. This could be difficult to manage, as often only one who knows the were well would know of any allergies they may have. And most who would, refuse to tell officials about the allergies.
And then there is the one that anyone, even the lycanthrope in question, would be able to employ. That was the least known, and most used by those who were not in Ministry employ. it was, quite simply, cold. Werewolves evolved as a defense mechanism for those ancient people who got themselves trapped above the Arctic Circle. As creatures of the ice and snow, the heat of Scotland drove them mad. It was rather like how a polar bear would go crazy if left in the heat of Florida. To return a werewolf to a rather sane state, similar to that of any regular wolf but smarter, all one would have to do would be to now and cast a freezing charm on the area the lycanthrope will be transforming in, and they will be entirely safe to be around for the duration of their transformation. Well, if one would discount the minor possibility of frostbite from the environment.
History of the Lycan, Laiwan Liusa
Eleven-year-old Remus Lupin sighed as he looked at the swift-darkening sky, frost-ridden breath pluming out. Today was supposed to be one of the few times London would be able to see one of the meteor showers that so lit up the night sky and Remus so wished he could see it. To see the streaks of cold-fire as they streaked across the sky, illuminating those below with hope for a better future. Oh, how Remus wished he could observe it along with every other person in Britain! But alas, it was not to be. The moon would be rising soon and today it would be full. That meant, as it had every moon since his third birthday, that he would transform into a bloodthirsty, ravenous beast.
You see, Remus was a werewolf. But not just a werewolf. No, he was also the youngest werewolf ever. As such, that meant that when he was bitten, his magic core was still flexible enough to fully accept the new magic. Meaning, of course, that Remus was more attuned to the wolf than any other werewolf ever had been and ever would. He was able to partly control the wolf on the full moon, and to semi-shift at any time other time, excluding the new moon when the pull was the weakest. He was, in short, a wolf animagus with monthly forced shifts who suffered from Multiple Personality Disorder.
His life was not at all comfortable though. When he was old enough to realize what happened, he started reading all the books he could on the subject of werewolf-ism or, as it was more properly known, lycanthropy.
As he read, he had realized that most werewolves did not hear a little playful wolf-voice in their heads, or have any control over the wolf. When he went to his parents and told them what he had found out, they started trying to use him to gain fame and money for them, with none of it ever going to him. The-Wolf-Who-Controlled. That was what they called him. The fame got to the point where he had to run away from his home, his family and everything human. He had even changed his name so no one could figure it out. Reginald Llwelyn became Remus Lupin so he could keep his initials, but signify his wolf. (Remus, twin of the greek hero Romulus, founder of Rome, abandoned and suckled by a wolf mother. Lupin, lupine, wolf-like.) And Remus Lupin knew he wasn't going to be able to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry because they would know what he was, and realize who he was and then the running and the hiding and the eternal watching would begin again.
The moon was rising now, casting its light on Remus as he finished his preparations. He stood back and let the light of the full moon bathe him. As it reached his foot, the site of the bite, his body shuddered and curled up. The pain came, as it always did when he was forced to transform. First his face, crumpling in and then stretching out into a wolfish grin while his eyes became a brighter gold and his ears migrated to the top of his head. Then, his hands, clenching into fists before uncurling and scarring the tree with his newly grown claws. His feet, curling in his ratty shoes, before uncurling and tearing the shoes to shreds. His torso, curling in on itself before stretching back out and further, revealing newly grown muscles while growing fur at an alarming rate.
Less than five minutes later, and where once had stood a homeless, ratty boy in the frozen forest, now stood a proud and magnificent black wolf with tawny eyes and brown zebra stripes on his tail. He paused for a moment, sniffing around, getting his bearings before throwing his head back and howling a tribute to a newly risen moon. As he finished his howl, the wolf, Iro, turned and ran into the forest, trying to work off the energy the unearthly blue-white light gave him. And Remus Lupin, after giving Iro strict instructions (Only eat the rabbits, only the rabbits. NOT THE DOG! SPIT IT OUT! Only eat the rabbits.),let himself dissolve for the night, surrendering to the oblivion, the lack of caring about anything and everything. And so, a man in in wolf's body ran through the forest, howling his joy and energy, his longing and loneliness, under the full moon while the people on the edges of the woods heard the howls and shivered, instincts reacting to the presence of a mightier hunter than they. So the night passed, in oblivion and boundless energy.
Remus Lupin stirred slightly. Much as he loved the turnings and the energy and oblivion and freedom they brought, they always ended up leaving him as exhausted as if he'd stayed up for a week on end. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking off the slight accumulation of frost on his eyelids as he let his eyes adjust to a glaringly bright sun-on-snow light.
Remus froze. Something was staring at him. He could feel his skin prickling. That was one of the reasons he had to run away. The constant staring, he could feel it. It was like he constantly had millions of tiny spiders crawling, writhing, feeding, dying, all over him. This stare felt like that, but different. It was sharper, more piercing. It didn't feel like a human's stare, grasping, greedy, taking in but not really seeing. It was a familiar stare. An owl was staring down at him. But why? He wasn't going to be able to go to Hogwarts and he didn't know any other humans, so who could be contacting him.
Remus carefully got up and looked up at the owl and called crossly as he brought his magic to the surface and to bear, "Here bird. Come here you stupid bird if you wish to remain alive." The wolf had given him a closer relationship with his magic so, despite knowing few spells, Remus was the best semi-human in terms of wandless magic.
The owl hooted nervously and fluttered down to a level where Remus could reach the scroll of parchment on it's leg, fastened on with a green (pleasepleaseplease let it be...) ribbon, also lettered in green ink with a (it was!) stamped Hogwarts crest on it.
With trembling hands, Remus reached out and took the letter from the bird's leg and opened it slowly. It read exactly what he wanted to, but never dared hope he would, read.
Dear Mr. Lupin, They knew his chosen name rather than the one he was given!
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, under headmaster Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class. On the second page you will find the necessary supplies for school.
Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress,
Hogwarts
He had never dared hope that he would be accepted into Hogwarts, after all, he had no parents to pay for tuition and textbooks. Not to mention his condition, which would be enough to prevent him ever being able to get a wand if the Ministry were to know what he was.
He had no idea how he was going to do this, not one. The one thing he did know, had known since he had seen the letter and realized what it was, was that he was going to Hogwarts. No matter what he had to do, The Wolf-Who-Controlled was going to Hogwarts, and Morgana help whoever stood in his way, be it man, beast or Ministry.
I couldn't find any of the books and couldn't remember how a Hogwarts letter is supposed to go, so I kinda made up my own.
