Yes, and another work in progress that I felt like posting. Hope you like it.
Important things to note!
1) OC is not a typical werewolf, so don't come at me about it. Given JK didn't bother to expand on werewolf lore I am doing this based on my own rules. OC also has a past self sharing his headspace so apologies if things come off a little confusing. I try my best to make that clear.
2) I don't know sign language and will be vague about it or will look up specific signs or make things up (for HP magic-related terms).
3) Have nothing nice to say then don't say it. I will block rude people who can't be bothered to be polite when critiquing. HP fandom has become nasty with fanfics and I've lost my patience with them. Enjoy it or don't read or review.
4) As a work in progress I do not know where this will go in the future and wing it as I go. I don't know when my OC will change any plot points or which ones they will alter.
Inside a cell sat a young boy, tucked up against the back corner with wary eyes. He was thin, his skin pale as though he were sick, scars trailed over his gangly limbs like he'd once been attacked by a wild animal. Perhaps he had, given where he was found scavenging for food and hiding from the rest of the world. He was no fool, though. He'd known exactly what he was doing and did his best to survive. At nine years old, it wouldn't have been easy but a clever eye could see what others didn't.
His tattered clothes were mended in places, sewn together almost expertly. He'd had enough layers on to battle the chill of winter in England when he was found, though the coats had since been taken to be searched for possible identification. The cell was warm despite its cold appearance so he hadn't needed them here. Still, his gaze was cautious, intelligent, and hardly that of someone inexperienced.
This boy's name was Artemis. He was mostly deaf and couldn't remember his last name even if he tried. His earlier memories were fogged, mashed together with high-pitched screams and pain. He had a better chance of remembering the memories of a past life. The fact that he could didn't make much sense to him but they'd helped him survive. Little mental nudges in the right direction, small blips of camping trips he'd never taken, of knowledge he hadn't come to learn. They kept him alive and helped him better understand his situation.
The first thing he could remember after those screams and pain was waking up in the small home of a wretched old woman who lived on the outskirts of a village. She was half blind and cursed like a sailor loud enough for even he to hear, but treated his injuries that he knew came from a beast. She spoke of it too; a wolf that had ravaged a town then vanished in the night. The boy had thought her mad and wrote off her tales as he gathered his strength again, trying to remember what happened. When his breath would hitch at the vague memories though, the gentle brush of his past life would slip in and calm him.
Remembering would cause him pain and would bring panic. Worrying about what happened wasn't important. What was, was dealing with what came next. With no memory of family or friends, his best bet was hoping someone recognized him or going into a city to become an orphan. He didn't like either idea but his past self knew that it would be for the best if he wanted a comfortable life. No child should have to scavenge for food and shelter alone.
After a month though, he encountered a problem. He felt sick, exhausted, and mildly irritable. He was like that for almost a week and then came agonizing pain. He'd blacked out, it seemed, remembering very little when he woke. However, waking up locked in the home of the haggard old woman with her body torn apart at his feet had caused him to go into shock.
His past life took time to draw him out of it, to pull his gaze away from the corpse and his own vomit. They told him to flee, to grab a few items, and run into the forest despite previous advice about going to a city. No, this was something different, something unexpected even for his past self. The term "werewolf" popped into the boy's head and despite not knowing what it meant, an image popped into his mind. A man who became a wolf; a threat to anyone around on the night of the full moon. He could not stay here. He had to run.
And run he did. Artemis had run and lived in the forest far away from humanity for two and a half years. The only reason he survived was his past life leading him through things. It was hard and frustrating for the young boy to try and figure it out even with those hints and memories, but he wasn't alone. It felt like he had someone sitting right beside him walking him through things, helping with catching food, building shelters, hiding from those who might harm him. Because despite keeping his distance, he had no proper way to prevent the wolf from taking over and running toward a town.
He'd been lucky until now. Winter had meant less food and resources to live off of and it meant having to move closer to civilizations. He did his best to keep track of the moon and when to put distance between him and the nearby town but it hadn't been enough this time. Thankfully, he was caught before doing any harm. Or he hoped it had been before harming anyone. He hadn't had blood on his clothes when he'd woken up in the cell and despite his initial panicking, the calming chime of his past life helped him relax.
He needed information. This didn't feel like he'd been taken to the police. His past life silently mused that no police officer they knew would lock up a mere nine-year-old in a cell and leave them there. But if the police hadn't taken him, then who? And was it while he'd been a wolf? If it was, then there may be far more trouble to deal with than just a scolding for wandering after hours or an interrogation as to where his family was. What he didn't know was the problems he'd already caused just by being found.
In another room, a group of adults were arguing and bickering over his presence and what to ultimately do with him. Having a rogue werewolf was one thing. Having it be a child with no known parents or relatives was entirely different. An adult would usually be caught, interrogated upon changing back into a human, and their case investigated to determine if they would be charged or imprisoned for any possible crimes they may have committed while loose and transformed during a full moon. A child would then be the responsibility of their parents or a possible werewolf pack—though there was only one pack known in the area and the survival of any child in Fenrir Greyback's pack was questionable.
Artemis was neither and—from all accounts—hadn't committed a crime. He'd been caught before being seen and before hurting anyone during this month's full moon. Not to say he hadn't hurt anyone up until now, but the boy hadn't said anything since he was found. They couldn't be sure of when he was turned or where he even came from. Loose werewolves weren't exactly quiet and children or newly changed werewolves even less so. Yet, he hadn't been noticed until he'd been spotted by a young auror on a patrol, who'd immediately contacted the Werewolf Capture Unit after isolating him. With no crime committed and no one responsible for the boy, however, the group of witches and wizards weren't sure what to do with him.
"Just hand him over to Greyback," one man complained as a witch argued quickly.
"He's just a boy!"
"He's a werewolf! That makes him a threat to the Statute of Secrecy and to the lives of anyone around him!"
"Hand him over to Greyback and he's dead. We shouldn't punish him just because he happened to show up. We have no idea who his family is?"
"Could be anyone. All we have is his first name based on some paper scraps we found in his pocket where he was practicing writing."
"No one has spoken to him?"
"The boy's practically feral. Growled at the first person to step up to the cell."
"Well, maybe if he wasn't in a cell you might get somewhere."
"Protocol states—"
"Oh, Merlin. Forget protocol! We're here because protocol doesn't exist for this situation! We've got a nine-year-old orphan boy locked up in a cell because he's a werewolf without a family! If someone would just talk to him—"
"What do you suggest? We just let him out a-and what? Have a friendly chat? I said he's feral. For all we know he was changed early on and has just been living out there with actual wolves for years!"
"What about social services? Can't they do anything?"
"We can't just drop him in an orphanage. He turns into a werewolf every month. That puts other kids at risk."
"So set them up with a way to contain him."
"And then what? First off, containments fail all the time. Second, we don't know if he'll even cooperate! Add that to the fact that he'll probably grow up and leave the orphanage, it still leaves us with a wandering werewolf with zero knowledge of what he's doing or how to deal with it. Give him to Greyback and he at least has a chance of learning something."
"Oh, yeah, if they don't kill him first!"
"Or turn him against us. Don't forget Greyback is a criminal himself. Handing this boy over could just be giving him one more person to throw at us later."
The bickering continued until someone stepped into the room in the back, unnoticed, and cleared their throat. The room went silent as the wizard settled down in his seat, shifting his long white beard out of the way and offering the group of disgruntled witches and wizards a small smile.
"I have a proposal," he said simply and one of the gruff wizards who'd been suggesting the boy be sent to Greyback huffed.
"Why are you even here, Albus? You never show up to these meetings."
Albus Dumbledore continued to smile, unbothered by the rudeness. "I have simply not had anything interesting draw my attention away from other matters. However, the fate of a young boy—who has made no mistake other than existing—certainly seems to be something I should offer some solution to."
"Then, what do you suggest?" A witch questioned cautiously.
"The boy has committed no crime, yes?"
"That we know off," the gruff wizard argued.
"Even if he had, without anyone there to guide him, one could hardly call it a crime with purpose," Dumbledore countered. "Without a crime, the boy cannot be charged, imprisoned, or detained for any longer than he already has. Given his… condition, he could not be placed within an average household or orphanage."
"So, we give him to Greyback."
Dumbledore's gaze grew cold as they landed on the wizard, who shifted in place uneasily. "As stated, Greyback and his pack are a threat to our community. I see no reason to add to his numbers or sacrifice the life of a child because some people in this room believe the uncontrolled condition of becoming a werewolf is itself a crime."
The room went quiet again and his anger calmed.
"What I suggest is that we place the boy in a home with someone knowledgeable about his condition. One who could better help him understand it as well as give him the chance at a proper life."
"But who?" A wizard asked curiously. "No Muggle could do it, so it would have to be a wizard."
"What wizard would volunteer for that?"
"They'd also have to be knowledgeable about laws and restrictions for werewolves or the boy will just run off again and do as he pleases."
Dumbledore smiled once more. "I happen to know a few people who might be able to help. I would also be more than willing to ensure that he is properly contained during the full moons and being educated as he should. If there are no objections, of course."
"You want us to just sign over a werewolf to you?" The gruff wizard complained.
"I have yet to hear a better suggestion," Dumbledore challenged, silencing him easily. "We will, of course, put it to a vote. Those in favor?"
Over two-thirds of the room lifted their hands and those opposed were less than pleased as the meeting was brought to a close. Dumbledore stepped out of the room and smiled politely at the frazzled man who hurried over to greet him.
"How did it go? Did they come to a decision?"
"Yes, Arthur. I was given authority over the boy for now. I do appreciate you informing me of the meeting."
Arthur Weasley let out a sigh of relief and nodded. "Yes. Yes, of course. I couldn't believe it when I heard. He's just a kid. Same age as my boys, the twins, you know. When I heard they were thinking of sending him to Greyback, I just… I was sure you'd do something to help if you knew."
Dumbledore hummed as they stepped into the lift and he sent them on the way to the containment cells. "It certainly was an unheard-of situation. With Remus, his parents were determined to help and keep him hidden. They were both wizards, of course, and there is the unfortunate reality of children being abandoned for various reasons. It wouldn't surprise me if they learned of this boy's affliction and abandoned him because of it. Of course, getting the answers from him would help significantly."
"So, no one knows?" Arthur asked in disbelief. "They just left him down here to argue in that courtroom without even asking him?"
"According to them, the first person to approach the cell was growled at. They believe the boy to be feral."
"Feral!" Arthur scoffed as Dumbledore handed the paperwork over to the auror at the desk who would take them to the boy. "He's probably scared out of his witts! They caught him while still changed, didn't they? Imagine waking up in a cell surrounded by strangers. I swear, the Ministry is losing it. Did the Minister even show?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "I suspect he thought the case too small a matter to get involved in."
"Ridiculous. The lot of them."
They approached the cell that the auror unlocked, flicking his wand to drop the cuffs off the growling boy's thin wrists and giving Arthur and Dumbledore a nod. They were on their own now. Their eyes grew solemn at the sight of him though. A mere nine years old and the boy was stick-thin and cautious. His pale lips were lifted in a snarl and he pressed himself as far back against the corner of the cell as possible. There was something off about him though, that caught Dumbledore's attention.
The old wizard had been witness to many terrible things, especially during the wars with Grindelwald and Voldemort. Starving children weren't entirely uncommon sights unfortunately but this young man appeared far less starved and neglected than he'd expected. While slim, Dumbledore could see lithe muscles clinging tight to his small bones. He was a bit dirty but his hair wasn't overly greasy or long. In fact, it looked like it had recently been hacked at, leaving him with a choppy head of short brown hair. He may have even washed recently, as the usual stink that accompanied dirty children or homeless men who had no access to common luxuries like bathing was absent. That, and his eyes.
His eyes were an amber gold that shimmered in the candlelight but they weren't the eyes of a scared, terrified young boy. They were cautious, curious, and intelligent. He had to have some understanding of what had happened for him to be here and, after an unknown amount of time living out on his own, he was remaining wary of the people around him. Dumbledore wondered if it was because he knew what his condition was, or if he was simply that untrusting of others.
"Does he… have a name?" Arthur asked, glancing at Dumbledore.
"Artemis," he replied, watching the boy who'd yet to turn his gaze away from him.
Upon saying his name, the snarling boy had stiffened and shifted back slightly. Arthur took a step forward though, kneeling down when the boy's gaze whipped to him, and offering him a small smile to try and calm him.
"It's okay, Artemis. We're here to help. We've come to get you out of here and find you someplace safe to stay. If you're willing to talk to us, we might be able to find your family as well if you want."
The words hardly phased the boy and Dumbledore finally stepped in.
"Artemis," he hummed calmly, drawing the boy's attention when he took a step forward. "Do you understand why you're here?"
The boy gave no response but Dumbledore could tell he understood. Artemis knew he was a werewolf and that, as such, he was a problem.
"Myself and several others had to decide how to handle you and your situation. Children very rarely become werewolves and survive their injuries, you see," he explained to the boy, slowly approaching as he did so. "As such, we were not sure what to do with you. Most adult werewolves would have been fined or potentially imprisoned for running around a city on the night of a full moon, but we understood that you wouldn't be able to control yourself. You have no one looking out for you, yes?"
The boy's cautious gaze was roaming over Dumbledore's face as he too knelt and offered a hand out to him.
"I have agreed to make sure you are safe and housed until we can locate your guardians or parents," Dumbledore replied. "I have a friend who is like you that I plan on bringing you to. He can help you better understand what is happening—or has happened—and will care for you until then."
The boy seemed confused still and his gaze flickered to Arthur briefly before returning to Dumbledore, and he spoke.
"It's… too fast," he said, voice slightly off in tone.
Dumbledore blinked, confused and the boy shifted uneasily before waving a hand by his ear. Instantly, everything made sense and Dumbledore's mouth called open in understanding.
"Ah. I see. Yes. That explains quite a bit."
"What is it?" Arthur asked.
"He's deaf," Dumbledore informed the man whose eyes went wide in surprise.
He whipped around to Artemis who bristled but Dumbledore held an arm out to keep Arthur quiet and explained again to the boy what was going on.
"I'm here to take you somewhere safe," he said, exaggerating his mouth movements for the boy and speaking slower. "I have a friend who can help you with your problem."
Artemis was hesitant and very untrusting but they all knew he had no real choice. He didn't know where he was and had no real escape other than going with Dumbledore. That, and the thought of having somewhere to go—somewhere warm at the very least—was enticing. So, Artemis slowly nodded and Dumbledore offered him a small smile and stood.
"Let us get your things."
Remus Lupin lived a quiet and rather isolated life. He had been lucky that his parents—who had struggled so hard to try to cure him and continued to love him even after his infliction—had left him the small cottage out in the middle of the forest to live in. If not, he was sure he would be utterly homeless given his struggle to find work. Paying rent elsewhere would be impossible with how things were going.
Still, he was grateful for the quiet place far away from any wandering Muggles or even witches and wizards. It made traveling a little tedious but it meant that—should he fail to secure himself properly or should his locked shed prove incapable of handling his transformation for any reason—people were safe from him. That was what mattered the most, in the end, even if it meant he lived a lonely life.
Of course, living in such a way meant that Dumbledore's abrupt letter announcing his soon arrival was rather unexpected. Remus wasn't even sure if he had tea to offer the man. So, in his mad scramble to tidy up his home and rush to the nearest village for tea, he hardly had time to consider what Dumbledore might have been contacting him about. As such, it came as quite a surprise to answer the door and find said wizard smiling away with a young boy at his side.
"Hello, Remus. I do hope we're not disturbing you."
His gaze flickered between the elder man and the boy for a moment before he managed to respond. "N-No. No. It's fine. I just didn't expect…"
Remus again glanced at the boy who appeared rather displeased to be there in the first place. He was pale and bundled in coats, making Remus wonder if he was sick, but set aside his questions for now and invited the two in.
"Do you want tea?"
"Tea would be nice. While I hope not to stay long, I do not doubt there will be many questions," Dumbledore hummed, looking a little amused about something Remus wasn't sure of.
Still, he held back his questions and set a cup of tea in front of Dumbledore and at the chair beside him. The boy was refusing to sit, it seemed, and instead stood near the door where his gaze flickered over everything cautiously. Remus wondered if he might have any snacks for the boy but before he could think of checking, Dumbledore gestured to the chair across from him.
"Do sit, Remus. We have quite a few things to discuss."
"Yes… Yes, of course." Remus sat down and held his own cup between his hands, relishing the warmth.
"You are doing well, I see. How has the job search been?" Dumbledore started, undoubtedly waiting for Remus to ask his own questions instead of just jumping into things.
"I… I have a small job in the Muggle world. It's all I could get with my restrictions," Remus answered, uncertain of why he was avoiding the topics he wanted to discuss.
"And the werewolves?" Dumbledore questioned, sipping his tea.
"Quiet, though even they've heard the rumors of You-Know-Who. Greyback is probably just waiting on something more solid. He'll keep acting out anyway but he's not moving as much without a backer."
"Yes, that sounds about right." Dumbledore paused and turned then to face the boy. "Artemis, would you like to take a seat?"
The boy stiffened at being addressed and his gaze flickered from Dumbledore to Remus before Dumbledore continued.
"He's as likely to bite as you are."
Artemis frowned before turning to Remus when he stood.
"I might have some chocolate if you'd like," Remus offered, moving to the cupboards in the kitchen and feeling relieved at finding a bar of said sweet.
He returned to where Dumbledore was sitting to find a confusing scene. The boy was rapidly moving his hands while the wizard just smiled away before they noticed him and Remus hesitantly held up the bar. He started to step toward Artemis but saw him stiffen and shrink back. An uneasy feeling edged into his heart at the boy's reaction and instead of pushing it, he showed Artemis the chocolate bar again and put it on the table by the spare cup of tea.
"You can have it if you'd like," he said, stepping away and moving back to his seat.
Artemis watched him for a moment before slowly heading over and settling in the chair. His hands grabbed the chocolate bar and opened it, bringing it to his nose before his eyes widened and he hastily dug in. The action sealed the heartbreaking feeling in Remus's gut and he faced Dumbledore with a frown.
"Who is he? Why have you brought a starving child into my home?"
"Because he is more than just a homeless orphan, Remus," Dumbledore said seriously, his smile gone. "Artemis was just pulled from the containment cells at the Ministry."
"What?" Remus gaped in shock, never having expected the Ministry to do such a thing to a child.
"He is a werewolf, Remus," Dumbledore informed him, making the man pale. "A nine-year-old boy who survived a werewolf attack and lived in the forest on his own for over two years."
"T-That's impossible," Remus argued, glancing at the boy again and suddenly realizing how small he was under all those coats. "Who—"
Dumbledore shook his head. "We don't know. He wouldn't speak to anyone until I stepped in and only after I got the Ministry to release him into my custody. They were going to send him to Greyback."
"He would've killed him," Remus breathed, stunned at the cold-heartedness of the Ministry when it came to a child of all things—werewolf or not.
"I agree, which was why I proposed an alternative. Should the Minister have been there I have no doubt it would have failed but as chance would have it, he either didn't know or didn't find it a hard case. I'm sure I will be hearing from him shortly when he finds out about my involvement."
"And what did you—" Remus cut himself short as realization dawned on him. "No. Absolutely not. Albus, I can't—"
"And what would be the alternative, Remus?" Dumbledore challenged. "As you said, we cannot just hand him over to Greyback and the other werewolves. We also cannot leave him to the mercies of an orphanage and you know as well as I do that no one would stand up to offer him a home."
Remus went quiet, knowing he was right but glancing at the boy and feeling uneasy about the whole thing. "Albus, I can't."
"He is far less at risk with you," Dumbledore pressed. "You have no chance of causing him more harm given what you both are and while he understands what he has become, he doesn't understand all of it. From what little he has told me, he was turned at seven and cannot remember before then. After being turned, he was on his own."
"But how did he… For two years?"
"By his accounts, yes. He is a smart boy, Remus. Far more than one would think. Whether he proves to have magic or not is still questionable—"
"Oh, no. You can't seriously be thinking of letting him into Hogwarts. You saw how that went with me! Severus would never allow it!"
"Severus falls under my rules, Remus, and if the boy turns out to have magic, I will not prevent him from studying where he pleases. He deserves as much of a chance as you did, does he not?"
Remus looked hesitant, turning to the boy who had finished his chocolate bar and was warming his hands around his tea; ignoring the adults. "I… I don't like this, Albus."
"Neither do I but I was not about to let him be killed for nothing more than being bitten."
"And his family?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "He doesn't remember. Everything before the attack is blurred and even if I wish to extract it, memory loss is a fickle thing. Not to mention how cautious he is."
"Two years living alone as a werewolf," Remus breathed. "Yes… Yes, I suppose it would cause such a thing."
"You will take him then?"
Remus sighed heavily. "I don't see much of a choice."
Dumbledore cracked a small smile as he pushed his chair out to stand; drawing Artemis's attention. "I appreciate it and I'm sure he will too. I will send you an allowance to help. He'll need new clothes first and I will provide a little extra for his studies should you need books or parchment."
"Thank you," Remus replied, grateful for at least some compensation when he would have another mouth to feed.
Dumbledore placed a hand on Artemis's shoulder to stop the boy from getting up. "You will be staying with Remus, Artemis. He will help with what you need."
Artemis glanced at Remus who gave him a small, hesitant smile before the boy slowly nodded and went back to his tea. Dumbledore walked to the door with Remus following to send him off when the wizard turned with a smile.
"Ah, one more thing. Artemis is deaf, so I suggest you brush up on sign language."
Remus blinked in confusion before his mind caught up to what had been said. "What?"
"He can read lips rather well, so speak slower and more exaggerated to help."
"He's what?"
Dumbledore smiled. "Enjoy your new charge, Remus."
Then, he was gone.
"Albus!"
Artemis was a cautious boy and this had only grown worse after he'd been bitten. He wasn't sure how he'd been before that, but he couldn't think with his past life continuing to chime in the back of his mind ever since he'd seen Dumbledore. He wasn't sure why. His best guess was that his past life knew the man somehow. The foreign feeling of familiarity had continued with the new appearance of Remus Lupin.
Artemis wasn't sure what to do with this information though. His past self even tried to hint at things with brief flashes of things. A young, faceless boy with glasses and a mark on his forehead. The hiss of a snake. A flash of green light. None of these images made any sense to him and only gave him a headache so he'd asked his past self to stop. There was no point in getting an explanation this way.
All Artemis wanted now was to know if he was safe here. He still had time before the next full moon and according to Dumbledore, Remus was the same as him; a werewolf. This only made him more anxious though, since surely two highly dangerous creatures shouldn't be kept together. Yet, here he was in the small home that Remus owned and Artemis was slowly getting more and more worried.
There was definitely a language barrier between him and Remus. The man did his best to speak slower and emphasize his words but Artemis would only nod or shake his head, and only for questions he was comfortable answering. Things like if he was hungry, if he wanted to bathe, and the like. He was asked if he wanted to go out to the nearby village for clothes once but the boy adamantly refused. A village was no place for a werewolf.
This sort of caution left Remus in a bit of a bind as well. He was as patient as he could be, understanding that the boy had been left on his own at far too young an age. However, Remus also knew that he needed to get some form of trust going between them or nothing was going to happen. Dumbledore obviously expected something from him and the boy, but he didn't know what. He just knew he couldn't start any sort of teaching until the boy was comfortable, so Remus decided to take another step at trying to talk.
He'd gotten ahold of Dumbledore about books that would help him communicate and thankfully, the elder wizard knew where to look. Remus had struggled to understand the images and signs but knew he had to try. Artemis hadn't left the corner of the living room for anything and Remus wanted to at least get the boy to sleep in a proper bed. So, when he'd managed to coerce the boy to the table for dinner, he took a chance and rapped on the table to get his attention.
The boy stiffened but glanced up from his plate, still hovering over it as though Remus might take it from him. Remus winced at the action but offered Artemis a small smile before starting to sign as best he could.
"I have a room for you. To sleep."
Artemis looked hesitantly surprised at the signing and slowly put his fork down—Remus had been surprised he used a fork in the first place. Slowly, the boy signed back, though Remus was confused when he seemed to repeat the word "room" a few times.
"Yes, um…" Remus tried the action again. "I have a room for you." He then pointed toward the room. "You have a bed."
Again, Artemis repeated the sign but for "bed" this time and Remus scratched at his head before grabbing the book he'd been using.
"Did I say it wrong?" He muttered under his breath, searching for the page before flinching when Artemis tapped the table.
He drew his attention to the boy who shifted in his seat before signing "room" and "bed" some more. Upon seeing his confusion, Artemis hesitated before getting up and cautiously approaching. Remus wasn't sure what he wanted and went to sign it again only for the boy to grab his hands when he went to sign "room." It soon became apparent what he was doing and Remus felt a hint of relief as Artemis corrected what he'd done wrong.
Remus tried the sentence again, allowing Artemis to correct his mistakes as he did, and soon the two were far more relaxed and progressed into trying to have a conversation. Remus often messed up the new language and would point to the picture in the book to try and help the boy's confusion. Artemis would then nod and adjust his hands to show him the right way. The first step forward had finally been taken and the tension between the two quickly eased.
Remus was trying his best to learn in order to help the boy and speak with him. Artemis appreciated it and—while still a little hesitant about the man and how their werewolf situation would turn out later—the attempt was enough for him. He slept in his room that night, curled under the blanket he'd been given and his winter coats. He hadn't felt a mattress in so long that tears welled in his eyes and he spent the evening sobbing quietly into his pillow and sheets.
He missed having a home and—while he couldn't remember anything before he was bitten—the comfort of shelter, a full stomach, clean clothes, and someone he could talk to had finally caused tears to overflow. Remus heard him that night but said nothing and simply let him be while he himself held a heavy heart. No one that young should have to go through what he did.
As time passed though, things became easier between them. Remus's language skills improved so they were having full conversations now and he'd begun to try and teach the boy basic skills and knowledge. Artemis was certainly clever and did well with the schoolwork Remus taught him. Some of it Artemis felt he was cheating on since his past self would assist if they felt he was wrong or struggling. Still, he did his best and in return, Remus began to show him bits of the magical world too.
The boy had been amazed at the sight. Even something as simple as casting Lumos had Artemis close to Remus and his wand to try and figure it out. Remus had to explain that the boy wouldn't be able to learn it unless he was shown to have magic capabilities when he was older, which made him a little upset. He didn't complain though and just wished to see more and learn more.
Dumbledore had been right to say he was clever and Remus hadn't expected the overwhelming curiosity the boy had. He understood so much and learned so quickly that Remus felt a little underprepared. He had no experience with children in the first place and had no idea of when he should slow down or speed up Artemis's learning. He ended up leaving it up to the boy, in any case. Artemis was so eager to learn that stopping him seemed harder than anything.
Then came the matter of their monthly problem. Remus had started to feel the change first and could tell that Artemis had grown more cautious and on edge as that last week of the month went on. He had to have a discussion with Artemis about it and unfortunately, there was only so much signing that would help. He chose to write things down instead and brought out a quill and parchment they could trade back and forth. Artemis had been hesitant to discuss things but reluctantly sat at the table with him to talk about it.
Remus was surprised at how much he knew for a new werewolf who had no direction. He suspected most of it would be what the boy had learned based on experience given his time alone, but there were some surprising things too. Remus would have never expected that the boy had survived his initial bite thanks to the mad elderly woman who happened to have dittany on hand. Much less that she knew tales of werewolves and how to deal with them in the first place.
He was sure to send a letter to Dumbledore about that, should the village be a hotspot for werewolf activity. Artemis didn't give a name for the place but the general location held only a few options. Dumbledore would figure it out and there was also the chance he could find hints of Artemis's family there too.
Other than that, there wasn't much Artemis didn't understand about his curse. The illness leading up to and after the transformation was a given. Remus appreciated that Artemis sheepishly apologized for his temper during the time they were preparing for it. Artemis hadn't expected to hear about a potion that could help though, quickly wanting to learn how to make it but Remus refused. He certainly wasn't skilled enough to make it himself and had no way of teaching the boy. Even if he could, without knowing if Artemis had magic, it wouldn't work. They couldn't afford it either so Artemis soon calmed and didn't mention it again.
Then, when the full moon was finally upon them, Remus and Artemis shut themselves away in the sheds made to contain them. Remus had created another for Artemis that week and before going their separate ways, he apologized for not being able to be there for Artemis. Transformations were frightening and knowing the boy had to deal with them alone for as long as he did made Remus wish he could be there for him. They couldn't even be in the same shed though, or risk attacking one another in their frenzied state.
After the night of the full moon passed, Remus recovered first and went to check on the boy. His change hadn't gone quite as well, leaving Remus to scramble to care for his new injuries. He had one set of claw marks across his chest and another down the right side of his neck that was immediate cause for concern. Remus kept supplies on hand to treat such things but, as expected, it wasn't so easy.
Artemis caught a fever not long after and Remus did all that he could to help care for the child. He was simply a weak, malnourished boy who hadn't been contained for transformations before. The toll it took on his mentality had been the cause for the self-inflicted wounds and Remus felt terrible for it. As it was, having Artemis wake while he treated him—sometimes so lost in his feverish gaze that he flinched away or stared with fearful eyes—made Remus's heartache.
He'd pretended to be strong from the start, facing his fears with feral ferocity just to mask the fear and pain he felt. Nine years old and he had to live like that out on his own. Seeing such a thing made Remus even more determined to show the boy all he could, and once he was well again, he offered to take him out for a bit.
Artemis had been reluctant and it didn't take long for Remus to figure out why. The boy, as fierce as he tried to be at times, was kind. He had spent two years surviving away from people and villages as best he could to keep them safe. Now, he was isolating himself much like Remus had tried to do while young. Then, he'd met Sirius and James and all thoughts of isolation were gone.
Artemis didn't have such friends yet and Remus decided he would be that for him until he turned eleven. He began to hope the boy did have magic capabilities if only to give him that chance at Hogwarts. Things would never go well for the boy with his condition but friends would make things easier. And, with a bit of encouragement, Remus convinced him to leave the home and explore.