Sorrowful Wolf

Five-year-old Faolan Brone looked up at the huge man talking to the headmistress. He didn't know what they were talking about, but he had heard them mention his name several times, and they kept glancing his way. He wasn't sure whether to be scared or excited.

An adorable young lad, with his dark, wavy hair and bright green eyes, Faolan had been at the orphanage for as long as he could remember. Upon first seeing him, many sets of prospective parents had expressed an interest in him. Once they knew his story, however, the end results were always the same. It was a different child that they chose to adopt. Young Faolan had grown used to seeing the revulsion in their eyes, and, even at the tender age of five, knew the reason for it.

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Faolan had been only eighteen months old when it happened. Thankfully so, many said, as he had no real memories of the incident. He had been the only child of a young, recently married couple who doted on him.

It had happened on a warm summer evening. Even then, Faolan had loved chasing after the fireflies at dusk. His parents, unable to deny him this simple pleasure, sat watching him, blissfully unaware of the danger lurking nearby.

It had happened in a flash. Faolan's mother barely had time to scream as the huge wolf burst from the woods. In a panic, she grabbed up her small son, and the family tried to run for the house, but the wolf was upon them before they had made it halfway. In a final effort to protect their child, the couple fell to the ground as the wolf leapt, shielding the boy with their own bodies.

Alerted by his mother's screams, neighbors had come running, and the wolf was quickly killed. They watched in horror as, after its death, the wolf slowly transformed into a rather unkempt elderly man. For this had been no ordinary wolf. It had been a werewolf, an abomination.

The true horror of the attack wasn't realized, however, until they heard the cries of a child coming from beneath the now mutilated bodies of his parents. Gently, they moved the bodies. There, they found the toddler, covered in blood. It was impossible to tell whether the blood came from the child or the parents.

One of the women leaned down and scooped the boy up in her arms. Taking a cloth from the pocket of her robes, she started cleaning him off as best she could. Suddenly, she froze.

"Heaven help us all. He's been bitten!" she exclaimed, dropping her cloth and pointing to the small bite on his leg. The bite had been small, true, thanks, no doubt, to his parents' protection, but as any wizard worth his wand knows, even a small bite was enough to transfer the lifelong curse.

Much discussion had followed over what should be done with the child. Those less tolerant had wanted to kill him straight away, to end any threat to their community. In the end, it had been decided that he would be taken to the orphanage in nearby Hogsmeade. It was widely known that they were well equipped to deal with special cases such as this.

Faolan had been taken to the orphanage that very night. There, he was given accommodations to suit his special needs. His room was specially padded so that he did not harm himself during the painful transformations. It had many small windows instead of one large one, so that he could not escape through them. The door was reinforced and could be locked from the outside, so that both his safety, and that of the others, could be assured each month.

And so it had been for the past four years.

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Faolan glanced up again. Another woman had joined the headmistress and the huge man, and all three were now heading towards him. He looked at them expectantly.

The headmistress spoke first. "Faolan, this is Mr. and Mrs. Hagrid. You should remember them. They've visited before. They're here...Well, I'll let them tell you." She smiled, and stepped aside.

The huge man, Mr. Hagrid, knelt down in front of the boy and spoke. "Forget all this 'Mister' stuff. I s'pect it's 'bout time yeh had a real home. We're gonna give yeh tha'. So how 'bout yeh jes' call us 'Mum' an' 'Dad'?"

Faolan could scarcely believe what he was hearing. A real home? With a real family? And a mother and father? He looked at the headmistress, who nodded. His face broke into a grin, and he ran into the man's outstretched arms. "Dad!"