A Nightmare to Remember

Chapter 2

September 5, 1971, Lupin Cottage

Remus sat in the kitchen, staring out the window at the full moon and listening to the howls coming from the basement. He heard a low whine and smiled down at the Border Collie.

"He'll be fine, Lucas," he said softly.

Or at least he hoped so. He hoped his father's injuries weren't so bad he would have to be taken to St. Mungo's. If that happened, Remus would have to take drastic measures to ensure the abominable Healers there gave him the treatment he needed.

Remus eyed the many bottles filled with potions on the counter. Most of them were healing potions, but one was a Polyjuice Potion, and one was an Aging Potion, and one was a Strengthening Solution. The Polyjuice Potion was only for emergencies- Remus's father had brewed a large batch of it years ago. With the Polyjuice, Remus could impersonate anyone. Once it had been a stubborn Healer who wouldn't give Max the release papers that were needed to allow him to go home. One time, Remus had impersonated his father when the other man hadn't been feeling well enough to face the Ministry officials who came for the monthly inspection.

The Aging Potion was one that had been brewed so often in their household that Remus now knew how to brew it by himself. This potion was used almost every month by Remus. Remus would take it to make himself appear older and would pretend to be his father's brother. While under the potion's influence, Remus would bully the Healers at St. Mungo's and make sure none of them tried to rid the world of another werewolf. Occasionally, he would defend any other werewolves who happened to be in the same ward as his father. No one ever wanted to cross "Romulus Lupin," the werewolves' guardian angel, as he was called in that form. Remus wondered if they would still call him that if they knew he was only eleven years old.

Someday, "Romulus" would disappear and Remus would step in his place. No one would wonder at the fact that Remus and Romulus were similar in appearance, or that their temperament was the same, because they would assume it was a family gene.

At long last, the moon set, and the wards keeping his father locked in the basement lifted. Remus got up and made his way down the steps to access his father's injuries. Remus ran his hands up and down his father's body. Max had acquired a sprained wrist judging by the swelling, but no broken bones to Remus's relief. The weak potions and the Simple healing charm Remus could perform weren't enough to take care of broken bones or major injuries. There were numerous minor injuries all over Max's body and a gash on his side that Remus didn't think was life-threatening. Sure, it would take almost all the healing potions they had prepared this month to heal it, but Remus was relieved he didn't have to call on professional Healers this month.

Remus took out the wand and cast the healing charm on the minor cuts before his father woke up. Once that was finished, he then brought the healing potions down. Some of them needed to be applied directly to the injury, which he applied immediately. The ones that needed to be swallowed could wait until his father woke up.

Once he was satisfied that Max was healed to the best of his meager healing abilities for the moment, Remus filled a bucket with warm water and brought it down to the basement. He then proceeded to give his father a very thorough sponge-bath to clean up any excess blood and dirt.

Remus went to a corner in the basement and pulled at a ring in the floor. He set his teeth and pulled harder. Finally he succeeded in lifting up a trapdoor in the floor, revealing a hidden space underneath it that was large enough to be a small bedroom. He descended down the three steps and returned with an armful of blankets and pillows. He made sure his father would be quite comfortable and wouldn't roll over onto the gash on his side.

Remus then sat there for a moment, watching as his father slept. With a satisfied smile, Remus fluffed up an extra pillow and sank his head tiredly into it and fell asleep instantly.

Remus shot bolt upright. A loud thrumming reverbrating throughout the house told him someone was approaching their home.

"Remus?" Max's hoarse voice whispered. "They're... early..."

"It may not be them," Remus murmurred. The Werewolf Registry officials always came for an inspection the evening after the full moon, but they were always precisely on time. They were never late, and they were never early. It was late afternoon, so who would be coming to their house for a visit?

Max sat up with some difficulty, hissing in pain.

"Stay here," said Remus. He gave Max a glass vial. "That's a painkiller," he said. "It should be enough for you to at least make it up the steps once I head them off."

Remus ventured up the steps just as the doorbell rang. Remus frowned. It wasn't the Registry, then. They usually just barged in. A door-to-door salesman, perhaps?

"Ministry never knocks," said a voice behind Remus.

Remus whirled around. "I told you to wait!" he hissed.

"I believe I... am the adult here!" Max said irritably.

"At least sit down while I answer the door," Remus implored.

"I'll answer the door," Max insisted, his voice sounding slightly stronger. "You are covered in blood- my blood- and will only raise questions. Go get some fresh clothes on. Actually, get a shower. I can handle this by myself."

"But-" Remus protested.

"Now!" Max snapped.

Remus stomped down the hall angrily. He took a very quick shower and headed back down the hall. He paused just outside the living room. His father had apparently invited their visitor inside. It wasn't a salesperson, then. Judging by the tone of his father's voice, it wasn't an unwelcome guest, either. Remus wondered if it was okay to go in there, until he caught the tired tone in his father's voice. It was too subtle for their guest to catch it, but Remus knew from experience that it meant that Max was struggling to keep his discomfort hidden.

The two adults were too busy talking to notice Remus slip past them on his way to the kitchen. Remus glanced around the kitchen, wondering how to go about this with discretion. He put all the potions away except two and slapped a bunch of sandwiches together.

"Ah, Remus!" his father smiled as Remus entered the living room with a tray piled high with simple ham sandwiches. "You made lunch."

Remus shrugged. "Drinks, anyone?" he asked, staring curiously at the witch sitting in an armchair. They didn't get very many visitors, and when they did, Max usually sent them on their way immediately. In fact, Max hadn't allowed any visitors to come inside since Remus's mother left them. The boy wondered what was so special about this particular witch.

"Ginger ale would be great, " said Max, staring intensely at Remus. Then he turned to the witch. "Would you like anything to drink?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I'm fine, thank you," she said stiffly.

Remus backed out of the living room. He filled a large glass halfway with ginger ale, and emptied the two potions into it. After making sure the potions were mixed thoroughly into the drink, he returned to the living room.

"You'll need to drink that right away," Remus informed his father.

Max peered into his glass and inhaled. "What's in it?"

Remus pursed his lips and glanced in the witch's direction.

"It's okay, Remus, she knows," said Max. "What's in here?"

"Two potions," Remus replied. "One is supposed to help close the wound and the other should speed up the healing process. If you need another painkiller-"

"No, no, this'll do for now," Max interrupted. "Now sit down. We have a few things to discuss."

Remus sat gingerly on the couch next to his father, turning his full attention on their guest. The witch was a rather severe-looking woman with her hair pulled back in a tight bun and a pair of spectacles on her nose. She immediately gave Remus the impression of a school-teacher, or at least what he imagined a school-teacher would look like. He had been educated at home, so he wasn't really sure on that matter.

"Professor, this is Remus," said Max calmly. "Remus, this is Professor McGonagall."

So she was a schoolteacher, but what was she doing here?

"You may recognize her name from your Hogwarts letter," Max added.

Remus shot a startled look in Max's direction. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I didn't read that far," Remus admitted, seeing no point in denying it at this stage.

Max's jaw was set, and his eyes flashed angrily. "You told me there were no letters!" he snapped.

"I said no such thing," Remus retorted. "I said there was no post."

"Which was still a lie!"

"Not as far as I was concerned," Remus answered. "I'm not going to Hogwarts."

A shocked silence followed this statement. Then Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "I am afraid that is not your decision to make," she said. "How or where you are educated is a choice for your parents to make."

Remus narrowed his eyes. "The decision of whether or not to stay put is mine, however," he said coolly.

"And just how were you planning on learning the things you need to know?" Max demanded.

"I've been studying out of your old books," Remus replied. "They may be slightly outdated, but the fundamentals are the same!"

"Studying out of my- how long?" asked Max.

"Since last summer, when I made the decision," Remus replied. "You need me here."

"No, Remus!" Max snapped. "I need you to have as normal a life as possible."

Remus set his jaw stubbornly, but he did not say a word. Max sighed. "Professor, would you excuse us for a moment?" he asked. "We will be right back."

Professor McGonagall nodded her head, and Max strode into the kitchen, dragging Remus with him.

"What were you thinking?" Max growled. "You are just a kid! You cannot go making decisions like this!"

"It's too late for that," Remus retorted. "Term already started, and-"

"Only a week ago!" Max interrupted. "It will take no time at all for you to catch up with your peers."

Remus narrowed his eyes. "I'm not going," he insisted.

Max glared at him. He didn't like what he was about to do, but he knew it would work. "Do want to get me arrested?" he asked.

Remus frowned in confusion. "Why would you-?"

Max pointed at himself. "Werewolf," he enunciated the word slowly, as if he was speaking to a small toddler. "Once word of this gets out, people will automatically assume I am preventing you from going to Hogwarts against your will!"

"I can explain that I refused to go," Remus shrugged.

"And how would they know I didn't put you up to saying that?"asked Max.

Remus lowered his eyes and stared at the floor. "I- I didn't think about that," he admitted.

"You're going, and that's final!"

Remus snapped his head up to fix Max with a piercing glare. "Fine, I'll go, but I won't stay! That way they'll know it was my decision!"

"Why don't you want to go to Hogwarts?" asked Max.

Remus bit his lip. "I don't want to leave you," he admitted quietly.

"Children grow up," Max snapped. "It's time you did, too. There are things you can't learn out of a book-"

"Name them!" Remus growled, his eyes narrowed.

"Wand movements," Max began.

"That's what diagrams are for," Remus retorted.

"Potions-"

"Just like following a recipe."

"Spell enunciation-"

"Ever heard of a pronunciation key?"

Max's face reddened in anger. Inwardly, Remus cringed. Had he gone too far?

"What about things you don't understand?" asked Max. "I can't help you with everything. I am very good at Charms, but I barely passed potions, and- and- please, Remus, do it for me?"

At his last words, Remus's stubborn expression wavered, and Max took advantage of his son's momentary uncertainty.

"I want to be able to see you off to school and be waiting for you when you get off the train at the end of term," Max said, a faraway look crossing his face. "I want to write to you and ask how you're doing. I want to sit at the kitchen table every morning, waiting for your owl. I want to read all about every single moment you deem important at Hogwarts. I want to listen to you talking nonstop about all the new spells you've learned, and the potions you've made, even the potions you've exploded. I want to hear about the trouble you've gotten into, the friends you've made, the people you can't stand. Someday, hopefully someday far in the future, I want to hear about that girl you can't get out of your head. And most of all, I want to know what House you'll be Sorted into. I hope it's Gryffindor, but I'll still be proud of you even if you end up in Slytherin. I want all this because that is what any other father would get to experience. I've been looking forward to it since the day you were born, and I'll be damned if I let some bloody curse take that away from me."

Remus was silent for a long moment, thinking carefully over his words. "You really want that?" he asked quietly.

Max smiled in relief.

"Then I'll go," Remus said. "But only if you let me come back for the day after the moon."

"That can be arranged," Max said. "Let's inform the good professor."

They walked side by side into the living room. "Professor McGonagall, I am afraid you have yet another student to teach this year," Max announced pleasantly.