Curse of the Moon

"The pain has never really gone away. Even after a month, a year, five years, I can still feel it. It's not real, I know, but it hurts no less for that. I remember that my family prayed constantly for my survival; at the age of five, I prayed only for release.

"They won out at the end, and most of the time, I'm glad for it. I was fortunate, really, compared to other cases I've seen in books. I had two loving, completely supporting parents and the closest sister I could ask for. It didn't matter to me that Rona was more than ten years older than I, or that she wasn't able to be home very much because of the nature of her work as an Auror. Unlike the boys I'd called friends, she and my parents didn't abandon me when I needed them the most. I didn't really have 'friends,' but I had family, and I thought that was all I needed.

"Neither Rona nor our parents approved of my choice to isolate myself from my peers, but I didn't really have much choice. The scar I hold below my shoulder said that very plainly. I couldn't think of another way to live.

"The wolf is harsh burden to bear, but it is mine."

- Journal of Remus J. Lupin

Chapter 1: Dream of the Wolf

Remus looked up from reading a thick book when he heard quiet, almost inaudible footsteps in his doorway. His eyes lit up and a delighted grin split his young face when he spotted the figure standing there.

"Rona!" he cried happily, rising from his place on the floor and rushing to hug his older sister. Rona Lupin laughed as she returned the embrace, ruffling his hair and holding him out to look at him.

"You heard me?" she asked in mock exasperation. "I've gone through as much training as the top Aurors in my division, and my ten-year-old brother still notices when I'm coming."

It was a game they played; Rona had yet to sneak up on the young werewolf unawares. She glared at him for a moment before relenting pulling him close again. "I'm sorry I was away for so long this time, Remus. Two months is much too long a time."

"It's okay," he reassured her, understanding that her time away from home could very well be saving lives of others. "I know you have a job, and you're always busier in the summer. But I'm glad you're back again."

"So'm I," she told him with a smile before becoming serious. "How are you, Remus, really? You're too thin, and you look like you could use a few hours of sleep."

Remus looked away from his sister's concerned, grey eyes. "It's okay; I'm fine. It's just that...well, the full moon was two nights ago." When the worry lingered, he insisted, "No, really. Don't worry about me. It's always like this, you know that. That's why I could hear you coming up the stairs, anyway; it's because the full moon's just passed," he added, trying to change the topic, though without success.

Rona sighed. "It's not always like this, Remus. You had a particularly bad night, didn't you?" He lowered his gaze to the ground again and when she showed no sign of backing off, nodded, reluctantly. Rona's calloused but gentle hand raised his head by the chin and forced him to look at her again. "What's wrong?"

Halfheartedly, he shook his head. "Nothing," he mumbled.

Standing straight, Rona looked down thoughtfully at her younger brother. Her gaze fell upon the book he'd put aside. Hogwarts: A History. "Is this about Hogwarts?" she asked softly, her voice now becoming sympathetic.

"No!" Remus, answered, too quickly. At his sister's raised eyebrow, he amended, "...Kind of. I'm not complaining or anything," he added hastily. "Just...remember Joseph, from the other side of town?" Rona's expression darkened, remembered Remus' former 'friend,' but nodded in the affirmative. "Well, he got his letter today, from Beauxbatons."

When his older sister had been quiet for a time, he searched her eyes and saw a flash of guilt pass through. As she opened her mouth to speak, he stopped her. "No, Rona. It's fine, really. Mum and Da have started teaching me the more basic spells, and they said I'll get my wand next time we go to Diagon Alley. I bet I'll learn more than I would if I went to Hogwarts, anyway." He made himself sound as sure as possible, trying to convince his sister.

She watched him for another few moments. Then, just when Remus had begun to squirm under her piercing, Auror-trained gaze, she said, "You know what, though? Mum and Da may have been near the top of most of their classes, but neither of them was ever really that good at Defense Against the Dark Arts."

His expression became slightly disappointed. "Oh. I didn't know that. But...I guess I could still learn the theory and all, from books and stuff..."

"You can't truly learn that stuff just by reading, Remus," she informed him seriously. His face fell further; with her job being what it was, Rona would know.

Before he could make another attempted protest, she held up her hand, the corners of her mouth starting to curve into a smile. "But...as long as you're getting home schooled, I can personally give you lessons everyday that I'm here." He looked up, his brown-amber eyes brightening as she continued. "You can study the theory on your own--I know how good you are at that. And then, when you get past the basics..." She grinned down at her excited little brother. "Maybe I'll even start teaching you some Auror tricks."

Remus's normally solemn face had lit up, and he rushed into her arms again. "Thank you so much, Rona! Maybe I could even be an Auror eventually." He looked hopefully at her, as if waiting for her to confirm it, which she did, giving him her fullest, most unreserved smile.

And what if they won't let you work for them? What if they don't want a beast in the field?

His smile faltered momentarily at the thought, but he forced it back into place. Now was not the time to think about that. He'd worry about that later.

"When can we start?" he asked eagerly.

Rona smiled fondly and ran a hand over his hair. "Soon. But for now, how about that sleep I suggested earlier?" When he'd climbed obediently back into his bed, Rona sat beside him, watching over her brother, until he slept.

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"Look! I'm an owl!"

Remus turned to see one of his friends waving his arms wildly, flapping them in an imitation of a bird. He laughed with the rest of them at the boy's antics. Others followed his example, childishly mimicking various animals. Remus was enjoying himself, being a rabbit, when one of their small group, a cautious boy of seven years, nervously called to the rest of them.

"It's getting dark...maybe we should go back now," he suggested.

"Aw," another answered, "it's not dark yet. Well, not really dark," he amended, squinting around himself for lack of light.

"You're not scared, are you?" a third teased. And as any self-respecting male child would do, the first boy shook his head defiantly, then reluctantly agreed to stay. Remus didn't mind. He'd never been afraid of the dark, and he liked the woods. Never mind that the night had already fallen completely by then.

"Look, it's a full moon!" cried Remus, the five-year-old awed by the sight. The white brilliance seemed to light up the whole forest. He had always liked the moon. No matter which way he ran at night, the beautiful disk of light seemed to follow him, lighting his path for him, almost as if it were his own personal friend.

Most of the boys ignored him, more interested in their games than in astronomical bodies. The cautious one, however, stopped what he was doing and once again commented worriedly that they should return.

"Come on, it's just the moon! We've played out here before, and nothing's ever happened," came a reply. Although, Remus thought, that wasn't quite true. None of them had ever gotten hurt, for sure, but his parents hadn't been happy with him for staying out so late. Surely they were just being paranoid, though. Parents were always like that.

"But...but there're werewolves out here," the first boy whined.

"Really?" Remus asked, fascinated, having stopped playing as well. "There are really wolves here? But I thought wolves didn't live around here."

"Not wolves," a friend scoffed. "Werewolves. And I bet there are werewolves here, too! Maybe we'll get to see one!"

"Or a vampire!" suggested another. Remus laughed good-naturedly. A vampire wouldn't come out when there was a full moon.

"Or a dragon!" A dragon was no more plausible, Remus knew, for the creatures were watched carefully. The Ministry of Magic knew where every dragon was and made sure they couldn't hurt anyone, his father had said. But maybe one had gotten away, and they would get to see one, anyway. Or even a werewolf.

Seeing that no one was listening to his warnings, the first boy shouted, "I don't care what you think! I'm going back now." He turned to leave.

Despite having ignored most of his parents' warnings until now, something tingled in the back of Remus's mind. The first rule when going out, he had always learned, not only from his parents but also from Rona, was to stay with someone else. Never go off alone. Always stay with at least one friend, if not more.

Suddenly uneasy, Remus told the rest, "I'm going with him. Mum and Da won't like it if I stay any longer, anyway." A few tried to convince him to stay, but in the end, he followed the first boy to the edge of the woods.

"Hey, wait up!" he called as he ran. He was more athletic than many of his friends, but this boy was older and had a head start. "Wait for m--"

He was interrupted by an abrupt cry from ahead. His eyes wide, Remus slowly continued on, walking carefully toward the sound of the scream. Behind him, he could hear the other boys, obviously drawn to them by the cry.

"Hello?" Remus called. He stepped around a large tree and sighed in relief when he saw his friend. He began to walk toward the boy, but then froze in fear.

They'd joked excitedly about meeting the various common terrors of the wizarding world. And now, they had, for crouching in front of his friend was a fully grown werewolf. The boy was frozen in fear, but the wolf's growling was rising in a crescendo and it seemed to be quivering in anticipation.

Finally the boy seemed to free himself from his terrified stupor. He screamed again, loudly, and ran back the way he had come, not even seeing Remus as he pushed past the latter.

The shriek spurred the beast into action, and it leapt forward in pursuit of the boy. Fortunately, he was just out of range and had reached his friends before the werewolf could hurt him.

But in his hurry to escape, the boy had knocked into Remus--not hard enough to bowl the younger boy over, but hard enough that Remus stumbled and had to pause to catch his footing while his friends were fleeing for their lives.

When he looked back up, he saw the wolf's feral, amber eyes fixed on his young face, jaws snapping fiercely.

A moment later, the beast, snarling, hurled itself forward with its mind fixed on one thing only: its prey.

Remus had less than a second to feel himself knocked to the ground by the force of the wolf's leap. He had less than a second to feel the nail-hard claws scratch deeply into his skin, to feel the razor-sharp edge of horror cut through his mind. In desperation, he tried to roll aside.

The motion both saved him and left him cursed for the rest of his life. For while the teeth missed his heart, they sank firmly into his flesh, just below his left shoulder, tearing the flesh asunder.

It was like nothing Remus had ever felt before in his life. An unbearable burst of agony exploded through his body, leaving him too breathless even to scream. Through the blood pounding through his mind, he heard the sound of tearing flesh, and black began to fill the edges of his vision. Rigid with excruciating pain, his mouth worked soundlessly, trying to let free a wail of anguish.

Then, he heard a crack, like thunder, and the horrible pressure was released from his figure. Fire was coursing through his veins, and he began to shiver, overcome with pain, weakness, and a coldness that pervaded through all of his limbs. Someone was calling his name, but his brain was too dulled to understand. His eyelids fell shut and he felt his mind drift away, but he didn't care. It was not long before he left the world of the waking and fell into unconsciousness.

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Remus opened his eyes with a gasp, trembling. He sat up slowly and found that his right hand was clutching the scar where he had been bitten almost six years ago. As he let go of the old wound, he could almost feel it throbbing beneath the skin, his memories of the agony as vivid as ever.

Rona was no longer by his side; she had probably left for her own room long ago. The waning moon hung high, bathing the town in its soft, rich, terrible glow, illuminating the humble bedroom, as well as the as the young werewolf's memories.

He couldn't remember anything else about that night. He had woken up, days later, in his bed, frightened, very weak, and with his shoulder aching horribly. His parents had told him that one of the boys' fathers had come into the woods in search of the children, since they had stayed out so late. A hex had stunned the wolf enough to push it off Remus's body. The man had been carrying some coins with him as well, and a handful of harshly thrown silver sickles had driven the beast away to find some easier prey.

The next few months had been pure hell for Remus, though it had probably not been much better for the rest of his family, either. The wound had been serious enough that they feared his life might bleed away, and he was let out of a professional's care only a week before the next full moon.

That first transformation was the worst he had ever faced. He had been kept in a strong, magically reinforced shed, his mind almost dead with fear and anticipation before the moon rose. By now, the sensation of his bones shifting, his skin ripping, his whole figure bending and twisting to fit the form of the wolf, was familiar, though unwelcome. That first time, he had thought he was dying.

As he later found out, he almost had died. His five-year-old body had been torn nearly to shreds by the transformation into the wolf. The next few full moons had been just as bad, and he had not been expected to live long. Remus had been tall and athletic for his age, a genetic trait passed down from his parents, but even so, for a child as young as he to survive the ordeal was extremely rare.

He himself had given up all hope, but his family had not. Over the next year, the transformations became no less severe, but his body adjusted enough that he could survive the monthly ordeals.

Still, he grew thinner and never became quite as tall as the others his age. When he discovered the other 'gifts' that the wolf had left him, however, he had been genuinely scared. His slight frame belied a strength that matched many grown men's and reflexes to rival those of a professional Quidditch player. His senses were sharpened and allowed him to use his acute senses in a way that no full human ever could. His eyes, originally a warm, brown color, displayed flecks of yellowish gold. But worst of all was that his temper flared more easily, and he acted much more rashly than before. It was only through years of practicing control that he managed to appear more even-tempered than most children of his age.

Not that he had had many peers his age with whom he could compare, after that night. He had tried to talk to the friends who had witnessed the incident, but most ran, disgusted or afraid of what he had become. The more courageous ones lingered long enough to spit at his feet, or to curse his name, before turning away.

His parents, shocked at the children's behavior, wasted no time in pulling Remus from the local public school and commencing to teach him themselves. His father and mother had been top students in Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, respectively, and they constantly assured their son that teaching him was a pleasure rather than a burden. Even so, Remus could not help feeling guilty for forcing his parents into their current situation.

Leaning against the wall of his bedroom, Remus closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He had been looking forward to attending Hogwarts for as long as he could remember, for Rona had constantly told him tales about the adventures that could be found within that castle. But that dream was impossible now.

He didn't mind not going, he told himself stubbornly. He had been telling Rona the truth when he'd said his parents were incredible teachers. And nothing could possibly be worth the risk of putting someone else through what he'd gone through. He had no choice but to live with the wolf, but he had decided long ago that he would never pass the curse on to another.

Still fretting over his thoughts, Remus slid back down under his covers.

His dreams that night were of the peaceful, shining, hideous moon.