Left in The Rain

A little boy of about six snuck down the stairs carefully, making sure to avoid the creaky steps. Towards the bottom, he was sure Mommy heard, but she stayed in the kitchen, washing the dinner plates. Hardly daring to believe his luck, Remus cracked open the back door and slipped out of the house.

Once outside, Remus allowed himself a childish giggle. After two weeks of staying locked in the house, the night wind felt good. The young boy breathed deep the cold air. Still giggling at his good escape, Remus ran around the yard to release pent-up energy. But the small garden couldn't satisfy him for long.

A dark wood bordered the Lupin residence. Usually Remus stayed away from the dense forest and its unseen dangers...the imagination supplied him with enough reason. But tonight, the trees looked different, not scary. The branches stretched out in welcome, without malice. Dark secrets called to his young spirit. And after not being allowed out for so long, Remus felt boldly adventuresome. Staring at the forest, he was seized with a daring idea.

Remus stopped laughing and gave a cautious look at the house. The wireless was still playing in the kitchen; Mommy had not yet noticed he was gone. Remus looked again at the forest. Without another thought, Remus ran headlong into the trees.

The house lights soon faded, and an unnatural silence pressed in around Remus. He tried to ignore it and continued to search the woods. He had hoped to find animals- bunnies, squirrels, or even deer. But there were no animals. No wind stirred the leaves. No light reached the brave explorer, except occasional broken rays of moonlight, shot down between the leaves.

Now Remus was beginning to wish he was still in the house, or at least the yard, where he could call for Mommy. But he couldn't find the path, or any sign of the way he'd come. Worrying slightly, Remus spun on the spot, trying to find the way back. That's when he heard a twig snap, and the leaves crack under a heavy paw.

Remus picked a direction and started walking. Behind him, he could hear the rustlings and stirrings of an animal, but Remus didn't feel like exploring anymore. He quickened his pace. So did the beast. Remus sped up again. The noises increased and grew closer.

Now Remus was running through the woods, heedless of where he was going. The beast kept up. Remus could feel his heart beating oddly fast and his breath came in short gasps. What was chasing him? Braches and pointy leaves scratched at his skin and tore his robes. The woods were growing thicker, closer and Remus couldn't run fast enough. Was the beast still coming, or was it now all in his head? Remus didn't dare pause to find out.

Suddenly, in his haste and unsure footing, Remus's foot twisted underneath him. He fell hard into the dirt, his ankle throbbing. He scrabbled to stand, but he had only propped himself up on his elbows when the beast attacked. The thing pounced, flipping him roughly around and pinning him to the ground.

Hot, foul breath was in his face. His hands pushed against rough fur and strong muscle. A scream tore from his lips, the first sound Remus had made since entering the woods. But he was silenced by a heavy hit across his face. Four dagger-like claws raked across his cheek; he could taste coppery blood flow into his mouth.

Remus managed to turn onto his front, but the beast only sank his claws deep into his unmarked shoulders and dragged him closer. Remus was crying now, tears and blood mingling. Something wet, hot and sticky was running down the inside of his leg, but he hardly noticed. He was sobbing and screaming and spluttering thick, red spit and now rotten teeth tasted his arm and his arm flailed but a foot paw stepped down hard and bone cracked.

The pain went on forever, much longer than the attack. Remus was so delirious with fear he never noticed when exactly the beast left, never felt the weight remove itself from his torso. Pain and terror controlled his mind. For a long time before they found him, he lay in dirt and his blood and his piss, crying, passing in and out of consciousness.

...A light above Remus attracted him. Looking up, he saw a figure walk towards him. For some reason, he didn't want this person to see him, but how could he hide? So the figure came and bent down and looked at Remus with a pained expression. She stroked his lined face and fingered his graying hair.

"Stand up," she said softly.

So the grown man stood, staring at the woman with short, shocking pink hair. His robes were still in tatters, they were still in the woods, but Remus was a man and his wounds were healed.

"How did you find me?" he asked in wonder. She smiled slightly.

"Where else would you be?" Nymphadora Tonks said.

Remus Lupin sat up straight, jolted awake by his dream. Looking around, he saw nothing had changed. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of disturbing thoughts. It could be expected to have dreams (nightmares, really) about the night of the attack, his current position being what it was. But since when had Tonks saved him?

Remus discreetly checked his wristwatch, hidden under a bundled-up cloak, which he used as a pillow. It was nearly eight in the morning. He tucked the watch back into the material, shifting his wand aside to make room. With a small sigh, he looked around the cave he now called home.

Most of the other men and women were still asleep, curled up on the rocky floor. Some slept in groups, nuzzling for warmth. Others slept alone, occasionally snapping in their sleep at imagined intruders. The few who were awake gathered at a small fire near the cave opening. Scratching and stretching, the unwashed pack kicked through a pile of bones, looking for some meat left over from the previous night's feast.

Remus sat hunched over, pretending to have a hangover like everyone else from the Devil's Dance. But under the guise of a headache and foggy senses, Remus studied the people around the fire.

A man, about Remus's age, was gnawing on the end of a leg bone, matted and tangled hair hanging in his face. Every now and then he would spit out a piece of gristle. A woman, slightly younger than he, was poking at the fire, stoking the flames. A couple was casually grooming each other. They picked twigs, brushed dirt, and flicked bugs from each other's hair and tattered robes. And fidgeting quietly, a girl of about nine sat crossed-leg and watched the adults with a wide-eyed stare.

Her robes were the less worn of anyone there, relatively speaking. Her hair, also, seemed to have been brushed recently and the dirt on her face was a bare minimum. The only real sign she showed of wear and tear were scars on her forearm. Bite marks.

Right now, she was staring at the man with the bone with a hungry gleam. Occasionally her pink tongue would run across her cracked lips. After a while the woman tending the fire noticed. The woman grabbed a bone from the pile, smaller than the one the man had, but with enough meat to satisfy the girl. Silently, the woman thrust the bone at the child. The girl started, but accepted the bone. Carefully, she tried to pull the raw meat off with her fingers. The woman watched her a moment before speaking.

"Use your teeth."

The girl looked up, first at the woman, then at the man, who was chewing with vigor on a new bone. The girl mimed his actions. Nibbling slowing to begin with, hunger finally defeated good manners, and the girl energetically tore at the meat. The woman smiled slightly, satisfied, and turned back to the fire.

Others were waking now, the sun shining brightly enough to reach all but the darkest and dankest corners of the cave. Some made their way to the fire, while others did as Remus was doing- sitting up in a hazy sort of stupor. Soon, two or three men would leave to find food- possibly wild animals, as they had eaten last night, but more likely they would steal from a Muggle village nearby.

They almost repulsed him, with their aversion to hygiene and their bestial manners. Grown men and women- acting like savages. But the wolf in Remus, the monster he carried within himself, was attracted by their wild lifestyle. This was the way of Mother Nature's wolves. This was the way of true werewolves.

Remus finally stood, walking to the fire. He stopped by the little girl with the bone, who was now licking her lips and face of the bloody mess left by the meat. She was leaning against the cave wall, away from the center of activity. Silently, he sat down next to her and slipped something out of his robes. She watched him, curious. Taking care not to be seen, he dropped a piece of dark chocolate into her lap. She looked at him, surprised. He smiled and put a finger to his lips. She nodded and in a space of five seconds, the chocolate was gone.

Remus wanted to hate these people, these people who would brainwash the innocent girl beside him into following their twisted footsteps. But how could he hate them when his cursed half wanted to join them? And he couldn't hate his own blood anyway. These werewolves were his brothers, his sisters, his pack. All related through their 'father'- Fenrir Greyback.

Remus grit his teeth against the thought of Fenrir. He Remus could hate without difficulty. He was the reason Remus was here, why any of them were here, hiding, in this filthy cave.

And yet, Remus reflected, it was more complex than that. Many things had brought him here. Fenrir, by making him what he was. Dumbledore, by asking him to join the pack as a spy. His own sense of duty and justice. Remus sank deeper into his thoughts. No one bothered him- and no one would. Until Fenrir returned (probably that evening), nobody would do much of anything.

Then, inexplicably, Tonks' grinning face floated to the front of Remus's mind. Instead of shaking her away, though, he let himself dwell on Tonks and their friendship. If that's what it still was. As of late, Remus had found himself stumped concerning Nymphadora Tonks.

Remus shifted through his memory, trying to figure out where the change had happened. Everything had been fine when they first met...