Forsaken

Prologue
In which memories are relived.

Some things are worse than death.

Death ends all. He's final and uncaring. Death is the excuse for the weak to escape and the calling of the strong to martyrdom. Unexpected death leaves the living to suffer whilst saving the departed one. Planned death is expected and often longed for; awaited. No, death isn't bad at all.

It's living that hurts. Life is the one true source of pain and suffering in the world. Death kills people, life just makes them hurt. And sometimes life drags on to where you wish you were dead, to where you hope and beg and plead that you could die. You tell yourself you'll do it yourself – only you can't. So you waste the days hoping that you'll die, that someone out there will have mercy on your soul and do away with you. But no one does.

No one is out there to hear your cries. No one cares. Any that would, are already dead.

I used to be someone and I used to have a dream. My life was going to be great. Until one night twelve years ago, that one night I lost all that I had gained.

I went to sleep happy and content (as much as anyone could have been in those dark times) and I woke up alone, afraid and angry.

For posterity let me explain, for the years leading up to this event, Great Britain had been plagued by a fiend known as Voldemort. He and his would kill without mercy. The Muggles never knew what hit, they just saw the death that flowed through the city streets, but the wizarding world… we knew. Oh! how we knew. My friends and I had trained for years to do what we could, or we thought we had.

The night of the attack, there were four of us and the next morning there were only three. One of the living three killed the other. I didn't kill him. I know I didn't. I am not just saying that because I'm narrating and you have to listen to me, I couldn't have killed him. Of course when another one died… that left the blame at the only other one left. My heart screamed.

He was sent to prison, the wizarding prison, and I moved as far from everyone as I could. They didn't want me hanging around polluting the air, so I left. I left London with my heart in pieces, my head in shambles and my dreams in chaos. What was left for me; nothing.

The following years don't matter. They were full of suffering and hurt and betrayal. It was me living in the worst conditions and telling myself that's what I deserved, it is what I deserve.

No, what's important is what had happened before that chilly autumn night… Back to August 1968…

One
In which a lucky boy goes to school.

My name is Remus J. Lupin.

Who I was or what I wanted before the start of my eleventh year ultimately means nothing. Like every wizard of my age in Great Britain, I received a Hogwarts letter, telling me that I would go to school in the fall to begin learning magick.

I remember the letter. It was crisp and it had my name neatly scrawled on the front. Remus J. Lupin. I suppose that my letter was quite a bit longer than the other students' and it contained quite a bit more crucial information. I didn't care. I didn't care what circumstances had brought the letter to me; all that mattered was that I had the letter.

It had been, in reality, a change of management at the school. Professor Dumbledore was to become the Headmaster and he wanted me to attend. I had to be secretive but he and the staff would be understanding and supportive. I couldn't let anyone know because it would lead to both my expulsion and Dumbledore's.

I am a werewolf.

Every month I transform into a wolf, a fierce wolf ready to rip at the throat of any human he sees. But it's not just once a month, he is with me always. We are two separate entities fighting for dominance inside a single body. Once a month, he wins, undoubtedly. He's always fighting me though, constantly reminding me of his presence.

I wondered which House I would be in, would anyone want to be my friend? I wondered and I daydreamed. I suspected, dryly, that most students had already dreamed about Hogwarts (I felt, at the time, that not a single one of them would hate going – a theory, I am afraid, that was nullified) for years already and thus had plans swarming through their heads. So I made up for lost time.

I don't want to talk about my family situation, this is neither the time nor the place, but let me say that I had all the time I needed to be secluded alone to dream about school. I knew that I loved learning, and I was eager to continue, in a more structured matter.

Time is relevant and waiting is the worst thing.

I was anxious to be off. We went to get supplies in London, at Diagon Alley. I had never been there before. There were so many people, more than I had seen in my life at that point, and everyone was buying and chatting. We didn't stick around, though, after we bought what I needed, we left, not leaving any mark on the alley.

I wish I could have been there on the first day of school. I wish I could have been sorted with the other first years and heard the Sorting Hat's insane song for the first time. As luck had it, the first day of school fell on a full moon. The second day was when classes started and I wasn't allowed to attend. Instead I spent the day recovering from my transformation and seeing what Madam Pomfrey could do. Then, I was escorted to Professor Dumbledore's study.

I had seen Albus Dumbledore before and I would see him again. It was never his appearance that got me, it was his eyes. I always look first at a person's eyes because a person's eyes reveal their soul. His eyes gleamed with an ever-present bearing of knowledge. Not knowledge gained through studying but knowledge gained from living. He always knows what's going on anywhere. It's not only in Hogwarts, either, though that's where it's the strongest. In the twenty-some years that I've known him, his eyes still strike me.

‘Mister Lupin,' he began, ‘welcome to Hogwarts. The other students, as you know, have been sorted and settled. It is your turn.' He reached for the Sorting Hat and placed it upon my head. The Sorting Hat, I've always thought, would be bizarre if it weren't so out of place. Within seconds of thought the hat proudly pronounced ‘Gryffindor!' and was placed back on its shelf. ‘Then off to the Gryffindor Hall you go,' his eye twinkled, ‘I expect the others will join you in an hour or so and the professors will be lenient.'

Upon my arrival, my eyes scanned the room. There were four curtained four-posters and four sets of storage and desk space. Three of them had belongings already draped over various parts. My trunk was sitting by the fourth. After fishing out a book from said trunk, I settled myself in a chair and awaited my roommates' entrance. Of course, nothing would prepare me for my first meeting with them and nothing would amount to it.

‘An essay! On the first day! Can you believe it! Honestly!' a voice that grew louder proclaimed.

The door began to open, ‘this is school, Sear, it happens. No more fun and games, eh?' The boy walked in. He wore circle-frame glasses and a large, messy mop upon his head. His eyes were cheerful… but there was something hidden behind them. Mischief?

‘But James!' the other whined and then stopped. ‘Cor! The fourth one's here,' he stopped in the doorway, just looking at me. This one had bright blue eyes that contrasted with his long, black hair and I didn't have to look at his eyes to know that this one was trouble.

‘Remus Lupin,' I offered quietly.

‘James Potter,' the first boy replied, ‘and that dolt's Sirius Black,' he knocked Sirius' head. ‘he's a whiner and a complainer and… I can't think of anything worthwhile about him.'

‘All of this from the amazing James Potter. Most Brilliant of All Wiseasses,' he groaned as James bowed elegantly.

‘Umm?' there was a small voice from behind the two and they turned to admit a short, stout boy.

‘And this is Peter Pettigrew. The poor soul that will share your misery,' Sirius proclaimed. ‘His name is Remus Lupin, number four.'

Peter nodded and quickly greeted me in a shaky, unsure voice.

I looked from one to another of my companions. I was meeting them for the first time, and I could tell that, if nothing else, my years at Hogwarts would prove interesting and lively. Maybe I could become friends with them, I thought to myself, maybe they can accept me as Remus and not the werewolf. I thanked my lucky stars individually and by name for the chance I was being offered.

We became instant friends from moment one. Or not. Truth of the matter was that Sirius and James were friends from before, with a magnetic attraction. They were close; I should have been able to tell that from the start. I soon found out that the professors were already adding the two to their ‘students to watch out for' list. James' family had expected him in Gryffindor and he had already been planning a full retaliation against Slytherin. Sirius' family had expected him to be in Slytherin, but that's not important right now.

Peter was another story. He was shy and timid, unsure what to do our say. He strived for acceptance. I felt saddened when I looked at him. I wanted to help him, to reach out to him, but I didn't know how to.

So, Sirius and James just kind of lived without really thinking about Peter and me and Peter just ghosted about aimlessly. Our companionship was minimal. They would congratulate for a job well done or ask to borrow a quill, but there really wasn't any bonding between the four of us. At least, not like I saw in other years or Houses. I didn't really miss it because I had never really experienced true friendship before.

I loved the classes. I guess that I got my reputation for being a scholarly werewolf even from the beginning of my education. Well, obviously without the werewolf part. Not finding what I was looking for from my roommates, I sought the company of books and schoolwork. I absorbed knowledge, casing myself in learning. I vowed, in the first month to work my way through the entire library. And I think I've since done a fairly decent job of doing so.

It was already getting cool out when Peter approached me. It was in the Gryffindor Common Room, I was sitting down drafting an essay. Most of Gryffindor was at the Quidditch match, Gryffindor against Ravenclaw. I felt a pair of eyes upon me, watching me quietly.

‘Remus,' he began, I raised my head in response. Usually Peter was very formal, but he always used my given name, and those of Sirius and James. ‘We're going to change lab partners in Potions.' I knew this of course. We had been assigned partners, Gryffindor-Slytherin pairings. ‘I was wondering if you wanted to… be my partner.'

It was commonly thought that Peter was a bit incompetent. Okay, more than a bit. He was paired with Rosier at the time, poor boy, and the Slytherin took every chance he had to mock and otherwise maim Peter. But I knew that he had to have some kind of potential. ‘Of course,' I smiled.

‘Oh, thank you! I was going to ask James and Sirius but they're going to be with each other and all of the girls are paired together and then I don't want to be with any of the Slytherins…' he babbled.

I shook my head, ‘it's okay, besides, I need a partner, too. It might be the only time we can choose our own all year.' I thought of the two aforementioned troublemakers. I hoped they were going to behave, the idea of a Slytherin wasn't appealing to me either, especially if we had to do out-of-class write-ups.

He nodded emphatically, beaming as if I had just given him a bag of Sugar Quills.

That's where that friendship began. It was strange, for lack of a better word. Looking back now, after everything has changed, I saw it as fate – of sorts – that we became friends. We were left out by James and by Sirius. They were in their own world, so we formed ours.