Disclaimer: Not mine.

His Calling

Chapter 8

Transformations

Rhea sat by Remus' bed all the next day and into the next night, looking for some sign that he would wake. She bathed his body using soap and water, not trusting scourgify to remove everything, not wanting him to see the blood and to think it was his father's, or to know how badly he had been attacked. Her own clothing had been discarded, and new brought down from Hogwarts, in one of Minerva's visits.

Every time her thoughts would turn to Anthony, she would stand and pace around her son's bed unable to cry when she saw what was in front of her. He died for this boy. He stood up to a creature he did not understand and had died for his sons, she steadfastly refused to cry, trying to stop her tears and be as strong as he.

Rhea climbed up in the bed with Remus, put her back against the headboard and pulled him onto her lap, only sleeping when she could feel him, and know if he stirred. She could only sleep a few minutes at a time, jerking her head up when Anthony's scream echoed in her mind, or when the sound of the gunshot would jar her awake. At first, it was the door she heard, the loud crack, the sharp retort, and then the scream. She jerked awake and again ran her hand through Remus' hair.

She thought of Marcus, remembering everything they had gone through. She remembered how he had cried and screamed as his body twisted and contorted in pain at the first transformation, and how Anthony had held him and cried with him, screaming at the sky and cursing Greyback. Lifting Remus' upper body to her chest, she lowered her head and cried into his neck, not knowing if she could do this again, and not knowing if she could not. Again, she heard the door slam shut. She prayed that it had been the door, only the door and not the sharp retort of a gun.

She felt him move, just his leg, like a tiny flutter and then saw his eyes part, looking up to her, drugged and foggy. She smiled and kissed his brow, as his eyes closed again and she heard him sigh. Just a sigh, she thought, and knew then that she could do it.

The next morning she was sitting at the side of the bed as Albus came in. She knew by his expression that he was quite pleased with something. She pulled the blanket up around Remus' shoulders and went to stand with him at the door.

"Mrs. Lupin, we have been successful in stopping the newpapers from publishing the names involved in the incident. You will have complete privacy in this matter, although we will ask you to go over the statement we have on record to check it for …"

"Headmaster, I don't know how to thank you. Of course I will help. I'll do anything to help bring down that creature."

"Now, what can I do for you, my dear? I am afraid you have a hard journey ahead of you."

"I have been on this trip before," she tried to smile. "Only, not alone before. I'm scared. I can't lie, I …can't."

"Not now, my dear. Take your time."

"I don't have time," she hissed. "He has twenty-six days to learn what is going to happen to him."

"We can help. We will…"

"How? Who do you know that has been through this? No one? I see." She flung her arm toward the bed and glowered at him. "Look at him and tell me anyone can help me, or tell me how to handle this."

"The offer stands, my dear." Albus neared the bed, shaking his head. "If you think of anything, anything at all, just send me an owl."

"I'm sorry, Albus, truly I am." She laid her hand on his arm. "I didn't mean it like that, and I do appreciate everything you have done to keep this quiet, but I have so much to do. I had hoped to hear from Anthony's parents by this time. I sent them an owl explaining Remus' injuries and how I expect him to recover, but haven't heard back."

"Give them time, they have just buried their son." Albus said quietly, still watching Remus. "I am sure you will hear from them shortly."

"The only owl I got was from that Pettigrew kid," she smiled and reached in her pocket. "Here, read this."

Albus unrolled the parchment and started to chuckle.

Gramms said I cant come see you no mor. She say your Mum was a crazy one to send me home in your floo cuz I got dirty and full soot.

I will see you for swimmen in the river. Gramms cant see that far.

"I can only hope that the young Mr. Pettigrew improves his grammar before his Hogwarts letter, if not his character," Albus smiled still chuckling.

"It's sweet," she took the missive back and tucked it in her pocket before turning back to look at Remus. "I need to find new place. I can't take him back there."

"I will speak to the Ministry about your property. It's value will not be effected by this as we have kept it quiet, and I see no reason they cannot be convinced to advance you the sale price, once it is pointed out it is their failure to capture Greyback that has caused this."

"You can do this?"

"I believe so. That, or I plan on making an issue of the fact that a small witch was able to stop two Werewolves with no help from their trained squads. I think they may see it my way."

"Headmaster, I don't want Remus to ever know that." She walked to the bed and stroked his forehead. "He only needs to know that his father, a Muggle, loved him more than his own life. He needs to learn not to count on anyone. He will learn, Albus. I know what to do this time, I just don't know how."

"He also needs to learn how to live, Rhea." Albus looked over his glasses at her. "Marcus was a fine man. He was able to find some measure of happiness before he was taken all too early."

"This world will not ignore my son. He will be part of it. I swear to you, Albus, he may be Marcus' brother, but he won't hide away and depend on the kindness of strangers. I won't sit by this time and hope. This time I'll make damned sure he is not pushed under a rock someplace and ignored."

"Rhea, we will.."

"Anything, you said?" She turned and looked at Remus. "Then erase the records. Give him a chance, a real chance. Find a way Albus, because without it, he is lost."

.

.

The first transformation was harder on Rhea than on Remus. On one level he understood what was happening, but on another wondered how his hands would turn to claws, and if his whole body would cover with fur and elongate as his mother had told him.

Mercifully, he only remembered bits and pieces of the incident in the barn. He remembered lifting up and looking in the window. He remembered the shot, and his mother's scream, he remembered lying on the floor between a pair of boots, wanting to go to sleep. He imagined his father standing over him, protecting him, and finally falling to the monster, unable to fight off the magical creature until the Aurors arrived.

Rhea did not correct him, or tell him what had really happened. His mind needed an explanation it could accept, and if this was his mind's memory, she would make it hers as well.

She had found a small place for them to share, a place on the fringe of nowhere. The cottage sat on a ridge, with a view of the sea down the sloping meadow that seemed to go on forever, uninterrupted by human life. They had a small barn, which they laughed at and thought it more a shed than a true barn.

Only chickens and two goats for milk, a small plot for vegetables and enough distance from neighbours not to hear his screams was all she had looked for, and all she had found. When she had left the hospital to return to the farm and pack up what she could, she had seen the evidence of the anger that Greyback held. Moody had shaken his head and held her back from digging through the still smouldering ruins to find the only thing she would miss, the small Muggle picture of her eldest son.

That first transformation started with Remus sitting on her lap, playing the game she had played with his father. He found Sirius, and watching her face he smiled at the story of Orion and his faithful dog, as his skin started to stretch over hands that ached and turned inward until his thumb pressed against his arm. She held him and pointed to Bellatrix, and began that story as his head dropped and his breathing became uneven, as his legs curled under him, and he whimpered in pain.

"Ah, Remus," she gently chided him. "Don't give him that. Don't let him know he hurt you. Let him know that you are as strong as he, and one day will be stronger."

"It hurts." He thrashed against her chest as she clamped her arms around him, locking her legs over his and holding him still.

"Don't fight," she whispered into his ear. "Let it happen. Let it carry you away to strange and wonderful places, exciting and dark, safe and warm."

"Nooo!" he howled, "make it stop, please Mum, make it stop."

"Remember Dad?" She closed her eyes and let her tears fall onto the top of his head. "He said only the strongest, bravest of wizards could do this, and you're doing it. You are doing it just fine."

She felt him slump and saw his head loll to the side. It was over; over until the moon dipped back down over the horizon and allowed the sun to outshine its light, then it would start again. Each time it would be worse, each time it would take more of him away.

She loosened her grip and pulled his lips back to check his teeth. His mouth had not changed, the roof of the mouth still shallow, narrow and arched, she sighed seeing that he as of yet did not have fangs, and knew that if he was like Marcus, she would be safe from him for five months more. Then she would tie him in the barn and see him as a wolf.

Tonight she could still pretend that he was her baby. She sat with him, and softly sang as she rocked him and smoothed his hair. The morning transformation would be less painful, a sliding back, a return to what he knew. She looked down at his sleeping face and wondered what he dreamed, and if those dreams were boy or cub. She bit her lip, considering whether it would make a difference. Perhaps, she thought, perhaps if he could learn to hold on to his boy dreams he could beat this thing and keep his mind.

At breakfast, Remus pushed his food around on his plate, occasionally sniffing and running his nose along his sleeve. He rested his elbow on the table and put his head in his hand, watching his mother at the stove. When she brought the plate of sausage to the table and sat down with him, he avoided her eyes, not wanting her to see his tears.

"Elbow off the table," she passed him the plate, holding it out to him until he took it from her.

"Mum?" he looked up at her through his lashes. "Can ya tell? I mean… now."

"Say you, not ya, can you tell, and no I cannot." She frowned and poured her tea. "Remus, we need to work together on fitting in. I have gotten lazy myself, and I want you to help me with this."

"Doing what?"

"Try, How may I help you? Not doing what?" She smiled at his look of confusion and patted his hand. "It doesn't matter when it's just you and me, but you need to learn how to fit in, and the way you talk shows who you are and where you come from. More than that, it can show where you are going."

"Dad says… Dad said we didn't need to put on airs like some do, he said just be yourself."

"That was then." She pushed a glass of milk over to him and sipped her tea, trying to judge how much she could do today. "I've decided that your lessons will start today, you have missed enough."

"My books are gone, and my quill. Mum, can I stay home when you go to Diagon?"

"No," she said softly. "Honey, no one will know until it is time."

His head snapped up and looked at her. "They can't know, Mum, you know they can't."

"Someday they will," she smiled at him, reached across the table and held his chin. "Because, my son, will do great things. My son will be the smartest, bravest and the best wizard they have ever seen. And my son will make his father proud."