Phases

Phases Chapter Three: Daring to Hope (New Moon)

By New Year's, the wards were strong enough for Remus to test. At the end of January, he spent his first full moon in the woods. At first, the wolf was confused, angry. It had grown used to, if no less frustrated by, its cramped confinement in the little room off the wine cellar, between the root cellar and the old taproom. But when it sniffed the fresh air and looked up at the cloudy sky, it howled in jubilation. It spent that whole night running, discovering the boundaries of its new world.

The Werewolf Support Services Office and the Registry had taken interest in Remus's case since the beginning. It was truly rare for a child his age to survive a bite, and even more unusual for the child's parents to pursue a cure so relentlessly. So when Remus was not on the list of afflicted young men and women at the newest St. Mungo's study, Flavius Thrusher took note.

Flavius had been Remus's case manager with the office of Support Services since it was assigned. Remus had been bitten in July of 1963. Once Remus survived his first two transformations and didn't hurt anyone, the Registry turned the case over to Thrusher in Support Services. Remus was the first child Thrusher had seen; his youngest case prior to Remus had barely survived being bitten at the age of twelve, and had been turned out by school and family. Aware of the truly extraordinary opportunity available to both the Ministry and St. Mungo's, Thrusher took care, time, and patience with young Remus.

Over the course of their annual reviews, he gained the boy's trust. Their conversations were always highly satisfactory, informative, and candid. Thrusher got the sense at times that there were things Remus felt he could say to him that he couldn't tell his own parents, such as the reason behind his mysterious tantrums a few years ago, when he could feel the pull of the wolf and had to learn to control it, and how much he feared hurting anyone, and how he wanted to learn more about the creature he had become. Thrusher suspected, when he saw that Oxgall's latest study did not include Remus Lupin, that the boy had reached a crossroads.

But he had to wait for summer, and their annual visit, to ask. He Apparated to Aethenum Park on a sunny day in July, nearly six years to the day since Remus had been bitten, and was received warmly by the whole family. Thrusher had had to invent some protocol for this case: ordinarily, his clients were adults and thus there was no need to ask the parents to leave. With the Lupins, he interviewed all three of them first for general information, and then asked to speak to Remus alone. The second phase of his visit generally lasted much longer than the first. Without his parents hovering, Remus's natural intelligence and intuition revealed much more about his condition than just the freer words they could exchange.

This year in particular, Thrusher anticipated some tension in the household. By all his calculations, Remus's wolf form should be getting too restless and large for the little cellar room they had been using for six years. He and Mr Lupin had corresponded privately about the arrangements the Lupins were making for the grounds, and Thrusher had come out without Remus's knowledge to inspect the woods, but he hadn't checked on Remus then. Some compassion in him rebelled against causing the child even more worry--Remus took his condition gravely and seemed to understand the responsibilities laid upon him at so early an age. In the past six years, he showed every sign of mastering himself. But more importantly than the wolf's growth and changing appetites, this summer would have been the year Remus heard from Hogwarts.

Thrusher's previous experience with Hogwarts' administration had been less than successful. He'd tried to intercede on behalf of young Porter, the teenager who was bit on holiday in Kent, but to no avail. He had had little hope for Remus, and felt it truly shameful that a bright, promising young man should be denied his education, though assuredly he understood the need for caution. But his conversations with Remus over the years had given him food for thought, and he had latched onto an idea he felt might just work, with the right headmaster to listen.

So, this year as he asked the standard questions, Thrusher thought he might be able to do the family some good. He didn't want to get their hopes up just yet, though, so he said nothing.

'Thank you, Mr and Mrs Lupin. I wonder if I might speak to Remus alone now? And then I'll inspect the new area where he spends his transformations.' They left with perfect politeness. After six years of visits, they were used to the routine.

'How are you doing, then, Remus?' Thrusher asked, knowing that now he would get the real story. It wasn't that Remus lied about his condition to his parents; he just didn't want to worry them about things they couldn't control. Thrusher marvelled at Remus's restraint.

'I'm all right, Mr Thrusher,' the boy told him sincerely. 'The woods are much better.'

'You've been using them about six months, now?' Thrusher asked, consulting his notes.

'Yes, sir.'

'And have you noticed any changes?'

Remus worked his lip before answering. 'Well, there's a few things. The wolf prefers the forest, I can tell that. He likes to have a lot of room, and being outdoors where he can run. It's more interesting for him, the smells and the weather and all. There's more to see and do for him, so he doesn't...he doesn't hurt himself as much. The transformations are...a bit worse than they were before.'

'We've talked about that, haven't we?' Thrusher put in. 'The wolf will grow to full maturity earlier than you will.'

'Yes,' Remus acknowledged. 'He's very big--they don't know how big,' he jerked his head at the closed parlour door. 'The stretching--of the bones?--It hurts a lot.'

'That should ease as you grow yourself,' Thrusher assured him, hoping his logic held. If not, he reasoned, Remus would understand.

'I think so, too,' Remus agreed, and it was clear from the way he said this that he wasn't simply taking the adult's word on face value, but had done some thinking--and if Thrusher wasn't mistaken, some research--of his own. 'But, I've been going through a spurt of my own; Mother mentioned it. And at night, my legs especially...'

'Growing pains?' Thrusher confirmed.

Remus nodded quickly. 'It gives me nightmares sometimes,' he admitted, only sounding slightly ashamed. 'While I'm asleep, it feels like I might be transforming. As soon as I wake up, I know that can't be,' he added in a rush, 'but it feels like it. Does that make sense?'

'Yes, I think so,' Thrusher told him honestly, scribbling on his parchment pad. 'How are the appetites?' he asked, hoping to draw some connections.

'All right,' Remus shrugged. 'Mum says I'm eating enough for two small boys.' He favoured his case worker with a little smile, and the age faded from his face.

'And the cravings?' Thrusher asked gently.

Remus took a deep breath. 'About the same. Just before, just after. Otherwise, all right.'

'No more rebellion at the wane?' This was code the two of them worked out. Around the time he turned six, Remus had had uncontrollable rages, tearing up whole rooms in the mansion, and almost all of them occurred at the wane, when the wolf should have been at its weakest. Through careful investigation, and no little amount of consultation with Healer Oxgall, Thrusher had determined that what lay at the heart of Remus's tantrums was the wolf's overwhelming desire not to recede. They called this a 'rebellion,' and Remus had mastered his control over them more quickly than Thrusher imagined possible.

'No. But I swore when I shouldn't have done.' Remus confessed.

'That's all right, I'm sure,' Thrusher said. 'How about the wolf's appetite? Is that under control, now that you're outside?'

Remus thought again. 'It comes and goes. The first couple months, there wasn't much game around. March--it killed a faun,' Remus reported. He sounded very small, and very saddened by the wolf's ravenous slaying. It reminded Thrusher of the first time the boy's wolf form had killed a rat in the cellar. He had been nearly seven, and he had been on the verge of tears by the time Thrusher wrangled the confession out of him.

'Did it consume the whole beast?'

'No...a little more than half, I think? It was hard to tell. I told Father--he sent Mr Church round the next day to...salvage what could be saved. Mostly the hide.'

That made sense too. With the possibility of contamination, the meat would have been unsafe. 'Are you all right?'

'Yes. I just--it's hard, when it does things I can't control.'

'What happens when you try?' Thrusher asked. This was another private experiment: Remus periodically attempted to exert his will over the wolf's during a transformation. So far, it hadn't worked, but Thrusher liked to encourage Remus to feel he had some ability to direct his transformations in the wake of the wolf's instincts. It worked to some extent, except that it seemed the wolf generally injured itself if Remus kept it from injuring someone else. Thrusher felt a bit guilty, but reasoned with himself that Remus's accelerated healing made up for the damage he could potentially do others. He hoped it would set a valuable precedent and had tried applying it to some of his other cases. Few of the adults were able to do it, so far, but those who could seemed to maintain better control at other times, too.

'I'm not sure,' Remus observed carefully. 'Usually, it doesn't seem to do any good. He's always...angry. But he has moods...like in May. It was such a nice night. There were other wolves on the north side and he howled to them for a while. Then he just wanted to run. We ran and ran. He does get upset when he comes too close to the edge of the wards. It's like he can feel the magic keeping him away from humans.'

'Do you think it knows what the wards are?'

'No. They may as well be a brick wall. Anyway, sometimes he eats, but there's not much game in that little section. Then he just howls and runs and only rests when he's too tired to go on.'

'And you? Are you getting enough rest to recover?'

'Oh, yes,' Remus told him readily. He didn't mention that he still preferred looser clothing just before and just after. There were things even Thrusher didn't need to know.

'Good.' Thrusher shifted on his settee, making a note. 'Now, I wanted to ask you about Healer Oxgall's latest study.'

A shadow passed over Remus's face. 'I'm not doing that anymore,' he said with a strange, but not unfamiliar, note of steel in his voice.

'You decided not to go?'

'Yes, sir. I told Mum I don't want to be a test subject anymore.'

'Let someone else be the guinea pig for a while?' Thrusher said with a kindly smile. 'I don't blame you, Remus. But you do realise that without trying--'

'I'm not giving up,' Remus said quickly, cutting off the lecture Thrusher seemed to be launching. 'But I just can't go there anymore.' He stopped, but Thrusher could tell there was something he wasn't saying.

'What about school?' he asked carefully, easing into the subject he wished most to discuss. 'You should have got your letter already, if not for the bite.'

Remus shrugged again. 'So?' he asked, and for the first time during the interview a tiny hint of bitterness crept into his tone. 'Mum and Dad are qualified; they can teach me anything I need to know. And it's not like I could ever leave here, is it? I mean, after my father, it's up to me. I've got to learn to take care of the Park and the Crossing. That's more important than some school.'

Thrusher could tell Remus meant every word, but couldn't help noting that this still didn't seem to be the heart of the issue. He knew better than to ask outright, though. Setting his quill aside, he sat back in a more casual pose.

'I wish all children were as affable as you, Remus,' he said seriously. 'Is there anything else you'd like to talk about? You know it's all confidential, don't you?'

Remus chewed his lip again, debating. Thrusher waited, knowing the boy would divulge only what he wanted to say. 'I...I wanted to ask you. In your other cases--in your adult cases, I mean--do they...feel the wolf...so keenly?'

Thrusher frowned. 'What exactly do you mean?'

Remus looked away, sighing. Framing his answer. 'Things like the rebellions, and the cravings. I can smell my mother's perfume across the hall. I can hear your heart beating.' He looked down, worried what Thrusher would think about that. 'I don't know what it's like, not to have the wolf just underneath, just waiting. I can feel him, all the time. Is that because I was so young?'

It was Thrusher's turn to sigh. 'I can't discuss specific cases, you know that,' he began. He didn't want to drive home how remarkable Remus's situation was. 'But I can tell you that among most of the adults I've seen, they are unable to keep the wolf a separate entity in their minds for more than two years or so. I don't have to tell you the usual pattern?'

Remus shook his head. He knew as well as anyone at the Registry, the Services office, or the Capture Unit how cases usually went. The new werewolf went through a period of adjustment. Usually, he was able to live with the changes for several years. Many successfully harnessed the wolf and lived long, healthy, productive lives, if they were lucky enough to have support and a source of income. But quite a number went wild within five years of being bitten, eventually biting another and beginning the cycle over again.

'I know that the wolf is not you, Remus. And you have been able to hold that in your mind for longer than I thought possible. As long as you can remember that you and the wolf are not the same, that you are not under its control, and that you do not share its appetites, you stand a very good chance. The longer you maintain your own identity, the better off you are. Do you understand?'

Remus nodded, but the clouded look was back in his eyes. 'That's good to know,' he said solemnly.

'Anything else?'

'Er...' Remus turned a little pink around the ears. 'No, I don't think so. Thank you.' He smiled genuinely.

Thrusher began to stand, but stopped on the edge of his seat. 'I wasn't going to tell you this,' he said, wondering even now if he should hold off, 'but I've been thinking about your schooling for a few months now.'

Remus looked confused. 'Why?'

'You're an extremely polite, knowledgeable, talented, bright young man, Remus. I'm probably swelling your head by telling you this, but it seems a shame to me that you will miss a Hogwarts education because of your affliction. But over the years of talking with you, learning about how the condition affects someone of your age, I believe I may have some solutions. And just last week I heard that an old friend of mine is taking over as Headmaster. I don't wish to get your hopes up, but if--and this is a rather large if--he and I can work out some system to protect you from the other students, would you be at all interested?'

Remus stared at the greying Ministry official. His jaw worked up and down on its own a few times before he found his voice. 'I suppose it would be a good opportunity, wouldn't it?' he asked, his nerves coming through clearly.

'Yes, it would,' Thrusher answered. 'Think about it--I can't guarantee anything, but Albus Dumbledore is an exceedingly fair man. And unless I'm much mistaken, he'll want to help.'

~*~*~*~

Remus didn't mention the possibility of Hogwarts to his parents. He tried not to believe it. Too many promises from adults hadn't come to pass--not through any fault of their own, he hastened to remind himself, but just because things didn't work out. But that wasn't what distracted him from hopes of school. Something else that Thrusher had said seemed much more important to him than going away to be trained up as a wizard. 'As long as you can remember that you and the wolf are not the same, that you are not under its control, and that you do not share its appetites, you stand a very good chance,' Thrusher had told him. He meant to reassure Remus, but he came far from succeeding.

Because the truth was that Remus loved the wolf. He knew it wasn't him, that they were not really the same being, but that didn't mean he didn't desire what it desired. There were times--not often, but once in a while--when he wanted to rip into something alive, feel the steam of its blood on his face, drink the liquor of its sinews and feast upon its very marrow. That had to be the wolf.

And outside of those few times, when the same rage he felt during rebellions gripped him and threatened to consume him altogether, he still felt a kinship with the wolf that he didn't think anyone else could understand. He loved being stronger, faster, more aware. He was used to being able to identify by smell, hear things no one else could, heal more quickly. Yet more than anything, his parents wanted to 'cure' him. Well certainly, he could do without the pain and he wished he could have friends, but that just wasn't possible. And if those things came at the price of losing what made him special, he wasn't sure he wanted to be cured.

But he felt deeply ashamed by that. He was a feared and hated creature--shouldn't he want to be normal? And yet...yet...he was normal. Normal for him. He hadn't yet had a moment of rage he couldn't get through by counting ten. He didn't really want to hurt anyone, and he was content with the patch of forest where the wolf roamed on the full moon. And he meant it when he told his parents that all he really wanted was to learn to be a good Lord to the people of Aethenum Crossing. Still, he couldn't deny that after six years, the wolf was so much a part of him that he could no longer imagine life without it. He feared it, feared what he might do because of it, but nevertheless, he loved it. And he was certain no one but another werewolf would ever be able to understand.

So when the owl arrived about two weeks after Thrusher's visit, Remus wasn't sure what to tell his parents. He didn't want to give them false hope that he might be normal enough to go to school. But there the note was, incontrovertible. 'Professor Dumbledore is willing to meet you to consider our position.' Remus read it over again - Thrusher had never said 'our' like that before. He wasn't sure the Support Services Office would quite approve. Not that he had any intention of reporting his caseworker's plan: Thrusher meant to bring Professor Dumbledore to the Park.

'Mum, Mr Thrusher wants to come out again day after tomorrow,' Remus said, looking up from the owl.

'So soon? Was there something wrong?' Athena's voice was tight.

'No, nothing's wrong...' Remus worried his lip, doing some quick thinking. 'He just wanted to check on something Healer Oxgall told him.'

'And he's coming all the way back out here for that?' Athena asked suspiciously.

Remus shrugged to end the conversation. He turned the parchment over and fetched the inkpot and quill from the side table to pen his reply.

'I have some reading to do in the library,' he said as soon as the owl was on its way back to the Ministry. Without waiting for her answer, he ducked out of the dining room. He continued down the hall, past the regular library, the one with all the Muggle books, and into his parents' magical library.

The sheer lack of precedent bothered him. He revisited the family's copy of Hogwarts: A History and couldn't find a single case of a faculty member conducting a screening interview before accepting a student. But Dumbledore had only just become Headmaster--Thrusher said so--and perhaps he meant to do things differently? Troubled, Remus wondered how he could prepare for an interview without alerting his parents. It was inconvenient, because his parents would have been able to give him first-hand accounts about the new Headmaster. But Remus knew the contents of his parents' library well enough to be sure he could find out more in other ways.

He spent the afternoon researching the century's greatest wizard. He read the section on Grindelwald in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and the several accounts collected in Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century. He delved into the biographical sketches found in Modern Magical History and Who's Who. He tried to read the Professor's papers on Transfigurative Theory in the 1952 supplement to the Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry, but it was too boring, at least before tea. He fell asleep over Dumbledore's inaugural address on being appointed Supreme Mugwump, reprinted in the International Confederation of Wizards quarterly, The Mugwump Missive. One of the elves woke him in time for tea, and he reshelved the books hastily lest his parents notice his activity.

As the accomplishments and accolades for the man he was about to meet sank into his awareness, Remus began to feel distinctly uncomfortable about the upcoming interview. He barely understood half what he read, but one thing that seemed plain was that Dumbledore was one of the most powerful and respected wizards of the age, perhaps the greatest wizard since Merlin, and he was coming to meet... a ten-year-old werewolf. And Thrusher expected Remus to impress this man? How?

Remus tried not to think about the upcoming ordeal over the next two days. It was difficult, because there was nothing to take his mind off it. By comparison, revising was the most futile exercise he could conceive. Walking in the forest made him feel more comfortable, but it didn't keep him from dwelling on the inevitable. His only consolation was that his parents still knew nothing of the possibility. If things didn't go well with Dumbledore, there was no need for them ever to know.

Except of course, that they knew Professor Dumbledore had assumed the mantle of Headmaster. When he showed up on their doorstep with Flavius Thrusher, they'd put two and two together. There was only one alternative: Remus had to make sure his parents didn't see the Headmaster.