Anonymous

ANONYMOUS

Early Winter 1970

It was quite a rainy night, which was odd. Usually, it wasn't odd for it to be raining in London, but it was December. In fact, there had been a blanketing snowstorm the week before, but that only added to this night's slushy, slippery streets. The rain was washing away the hardened snow in chunks and dribbles, and this was keeping him from getting home quickly; he was taking too much time avoiding the icy puddles that were as deep as his ankles. He couldn't run, or he'd fall like the last time... and that had been on dry ground. He was never much good at running, or any athletics, for that matter... he was much too small, much too slow and clumsy.

He finally reached the dusty, dumpy, smoky pub and halted. He hesitated for a second, thinking. It's much too slippery to climb our stairs; I'll have to sneak in from Miss Honey's room.

He took in a deep breath, a subconscious action by now, and grabbed the rusty door handle. He could slip in unnoticed easily, especially on a rowdy Friday night. There was too much loud screaming, too much cursing (and not in the 'swear words' sort of way...), and too much drinking. All around the odious, unshaven wizards were many scantily clad witches, slinking up to grope and whisper, and collect their sickles and galleons before they did their night's work.

Nobody noticed the wet, muddy little boy tiptoe by the bar tables and up the stairs. No one said a word as he climbed all the way to the top, clutching the brown paper sack in his arms like a hard-won prize. He turned down the dark hallway and all around him, closed doors vibrated with the sounds of pleasure and pain... something that no ten-year-old boy should've been so used to...

He walked to the end of the corridor, and knocked on the very last door, one with chipping red paint, and no sounds coming out at all. He knew it was Miss Honey's night off.

"Come in if you've got nothing to say about business!" shouted a throaty voice. The boy turned the knob and pushed himself in, smiling at the sarcasm in her voice.

"It's just me, Miss Honey," said the boy in his small voice. "I didn't think I'd make it up our stairs."

"No worries, dear. You're always welcome!" she smiled. "Now, come here, Remus, you're shivering!"

Remus ran forward, releasing the bag from his iron grip as he did. He set it upon a nearby table and threw himself in her open arms. She laughed as he got her soaked with his damp coat, and she stroked his light brown hair gently.

"Oh, my dear," she said fondly. "Is that your mother's medicine?" She pointed at the rumbled, spotty paper bag.

Remus nodded. "The man at the counter, Mr. Rooster-,"

"Mr. Rusedor."

"- Mr. Rooster was asking me a lot of questions."

Miss Honey frowned. She pushed back a stray strand of silky, black hair and sighed. "He suspects. He knows your mother is sick, but he still suspects about you."

Remus looked down. "I didn't lie very well. I couldn't. I never can." He looked so guilty.

"No! Remus, no, that's not a bad thing. If only there were more men like you out there," she said. "Don't worry, next time I'll come with you; just ask me. Mr. Rusedor would never dare ask about the full moon in front of me." Her eyes glowed assuredly, their odd, yet natural golden color standing out more than ever. Her namesake, Honey...

"Now, Remus, you know that I am going to visit my sisters for the holidays, right?"

"Yes."

"Well," She stood up and walked over to a chest of drawers. "I've gotten you a Christmas present. It's early yet, but I have one for your mother, too. Yours isn't much," she said apologetically, handing him two neatly wrapped packages. "It's actually something of my own I never really finished using."

Remus took the packages and smiled broadly, a rare occasion that melted Miss Honey to the core.

"Now, run along, dear, back to your mother, she'll need her medicine; it's been a month now, hasn't it? And maybe my present can cheer her up a bit." Miss Honey stood up, and pulled out her wand. She waved it out, and drew a set of stairs in the air. Remus stood transfixed. He loved it when the adults did magic.

A set of stairs leading into the ceiling appeared, and a hole at the top of them. Remus ran for the stairs, medicine and presents in arm.

"Thanks, Miss Honey!"

She waited until Remus was all the way up before she Vanished the stairs and closed the hole.

Remus crossed the small room, stepping by the dense pile of blankets on the floor that was his bed. He dropped his present onto his pillow and ran over to his mother. She lay with her eyes only half-open, staring out at the smudged, small, open window that led to Muggle London. A damp breeze floated in and Remus could hear the faint beat of 'rock' or whatever music dance in. He could imagine all the funny muggles with their huge pant legs and big hair and shiny tee shirts and beads and bangles... he giggled at the thought of it.

"Mum..." He nudged her shoulder, but she didn't move. He sighed and opened the medicine bag, pulling out the small silvery ball. He placed it delicately upon her forehead and watched as it magically dissolved into a fine silver mist before sinking right in through her skin. His mother started to twitch and move. It happened every time. He hated to watch, so he picked up her gift while she gripped the sheets and gasped for air.

"Mum," he said calmly. "Miss Honey got you something... for Christmas. It's December, if you didn't know... and last week was the last time I... changed." Remus ripped off the wrapping paper on the present, not watching as her unseeing eyes bugged, her body shook the bed as it heaved and threw it self up and down violently.

Remus pulled off the last of the paper and found a small picture in a thin, wire frame. It was... a moving photo, an old one, of his mother and Miss Honey (back when she was Julie). They were giggling and smiling, their arms around each other's shoulders. They both wore black robes, and they looked young and healthy. Behind them rose the shadow of huge towers and turrets. Hogwarts.

"Mum," he said, placing a small hand on her shaking arm; spittle dribbled from her mouth. "It's you and Miss Honey at Hogwarts. I'll leave this over there, and you can get it in the morning." After a short pause, he bent down and kissed her cheek, brushing back her dirty, stringy brown hair.

"Good night, mum."

He placed the picture on the trunk at the foot of her bed, and dropped into his own blankets. He blew out the candle next to him and curled up, hugging his unopened present into his chest. I'll show her the picture tomorrow, when she can watch me open my present.

A tear rolled down his cheek as she let out a pained, strangled cry, the bed squeaking madly at her vicious movement...

A few hours later...

Remus, like all little boys, woke up only to the smell of food. There had been a bright beam of sunlight that had fallen over his face, and yet, his ignorant slumber had reflected it fully. But to the slight whiff of bacon and biscuits, he opened his eyes slowly and smiled, still cuddled deep in his blankets.

'Mum's medicine, it'll have worked by now.' He thought happily. He threw off his covers suddenly, and jumped right up.

"Remus, you're finally awake," said a somber voice.

"Miss Honey?" Remus rubbed his eyes sleepily. Miss Honey was standing there, with her wand out over a pot of something on the stove. "What are you doing here?"

"Well," she started to walk towards him. She was much too... quiet; Remus knew something was wrong. He looked over to his mother's bed - it was empty.

"Where's my mum?"

She stopped in her tracks and reached a hand to him. "Remus, dear..."

"Where is she?" he demanded, not realizing that his normally gentle voice was getting louder.

"Where? Where did she-? Why-? Where did you take her?" Miss Honey heard the desperation in the last question, as he tugged hard on her robes.

She placed a soothing hand on his forehead and brushed back his soft, light brown hair, fighting her emotions down; so that she could be strong for him.

"Remus, your mother didn't make it through the night."

He didn't skip a beat. "But the medicine, I gave it to her last -"

She sighed. "To be honest, Remus, there was always a risk in the medicine. It is quite illegal, and can be very dangerous." She quieted Remus by pressing her finger to his mouth, as she knew he was going to say something. "But you know we had no choice. St. Mungo's wouldn't even help. They said she was terminal case... a 'waste of hospital space'." Miss Honey quoted the Healer, nearly spitting the words out.

Remus wasn't looking at her anymore. He walked slowly to the sagging, drooping bed and placed his thin hand on the rumpled, ragged sheets. He curled his hands up into it, hoping to feel a last bit of his mother's warmth, but there was nothing. They were stone cold and empty. Remus knew. His mother had gone forever.

He heard Miss Honey coming up behind him and felt her hand on his shoulder. "Remus, dear, don't stand so close to here, you shouldn't. Here," She held out something in her hand: it was his present, still wrapped. "Open it."

He numbly took it in his hands, and ignored the dark spots that were appearing on the paper as his tears hit the wrapping. He tore it all off and now held in his hands a red notebook, worn with age, the cover looking a bit wrinkled with use.

"M-mi-miss-," he mumbled, a bit confused.

"Call me Julie." She broke down there. Tears spilled down her face, and she began to sob. Remus pulled her down to kneeling, and they hugged fiercely, crying into each other, both having lost the woman they loved most in the world.

Months later, in a castle, far away...

"Albus, it is impossible to allow this," someone said wearily. "It is much too dangerous."

"Poppy," responded a very resolved Dumbledore. "I have told you of the precautions we will take, and you yourself have searched every rule book that ever existed to Hogwarts. There is nothing that prohibits a werewolf from becoming a student."

"But, Albus-,"

"I have final say over the matter, Poppy," Dumbledore stated calmly. "I only thought to inform you as you are going to be quite involved. And of course, when Mr.-," He looked down at the parchment on his desk. "When Mr. Lupin is Sorted, his Head of House shall also be informed. But otherwise, Poppy, I am being quite serious when I say that nobody else is to know."

Poppy Pomfrey stamped her foot on the ground and crossed her arms angrily. "Professor, you are being quite unreasonable! This boy is dangerous! He is unfit to be in these halls with our students and faculty!"

Dumbledore stood up to his full and considerable height, his eyes flashing with annoyance and what almost seemed to be anger. "Madam Pomfrey! I will remind you that yours is a job of Healing, not deciding which children are fit or unfit to be our students. Young Remus Lupin has shown the normal signs of wizardry and magic for his age, and therefore has been deemed eligible for this school by the standards that the Ministry of Magic and the Hogwarts School Governors set thousands of years ago! His danger to us only exists at the full moon, and those dangers can and will be controlled with all of our help."

Madam Pomfrey stood shocked, open-mouthed. She continued her argument, but at a much reduced vigor and voice. "Albus, there are no rules against this only because most people would assume that the Hogwarts School Headmaster would disallow the entry-,"

"People assume wrong in many things, Poppy." Dumbledore sank back into his chair. "Just think, Poppy, just imagine what sort of scorn and hatred that boy has faced in his life. Just imagine the sadness he has had to overcome. He lost his father in the attack that gave him his condition. His mother died just a few short months ago. He lives in the attic space of a wizards' whorehouse. He is being taken care of by a former student of my own whom," He sighed. "whom has strayed down the wrong path. I have faith that if this boy could deal with the pressures of being a werewolf in London, then he can deal with being one here. I have faith in him."

Dumbledore no longer seemed to be speaking to anybody in the room, even the Headmasters' portraits. Poppy brushed away a tear.

"I never really thought of it that way," she said. "Most people wouldn't. Most people wouldn't ever think to see it from that angle."

"I know." Dumbledore said sadly.

A few days later...

Remus sat cross-legged on the bed, quill in his teeth as he flipped his notebook open to the next clean page. He dipped the quill into his inkbottle and began to write.

31 July 1971,

Last night was as horrible as last month, and the month before that. It never changes, which can be a good thing and a bad thing. It really hurts when it starts, and it keeps hurting until... well, it never really stops hurting. It feels like it will hurt for the rest of my life, and there's always a little pain, right in my chest, next to my heart, even when it's not close to the full moon at all.

Julie won't say it, but I know something. I don't really want to think about it, but I have to put it somewhere, right? That's what Mum once said to me before she was sick. 'Always put your pain somewhere and never keep it hidden or down. You can tell me, Remus, put in me, and because I love you, I'll take your pain right with you.' I sometimes think I put too much pain on her, and that's how she got sick.

But, the thing is, I know that it's my time for Hogwarts. It should be, or should've been. Julie won't say it, but she doesn't think Hogwarts will take me. I know it. Otherwise, she'd say something to me about it, like tell me a story from her days there. She and mum were both Ravenclaw. I once saw a blue banner with a bronze eagle hidden in Julie's trunk. I don't care what House I get into. I just want to go.

Remus paused in his writing as he heard a tapping at the window. He looked up and saw an owl there, trying to get his attention. They rarely ever got owl post, so Remus got very excited about it. He scrambled off the bed and fell off of it, onto his rump. Unfazed at the stinging feeling, he reached up and opened the window. The owl dropped a parchment envelope into his lap and flew off.

Remus turned it over, confused at the wax seal with all sorts of animal figures pressed onto it.

Downstairs...

Julie opened her eyes wearily and rolled the naked arm of a wealthy wizard (who was about to experience a day's worth of hangover) off of her chest. She stood up and stretched, shrugging on her robes and walking over to her dresser to count her money. But just as she picked up the large stack of Galleons, something small and dusty crashed his way into her room through the open window from upstairs.

"Julie! Julie!" cried a very excited Remus.

"Shh!" she whispered. "He'll wake up!" She pointed at the sleeping customer.

"I don't care!" he screamed, and predictably, the nude man groaned and woke up.

"What's all the-," he slurred.

"I GOT INTO HOGWARTS!" Remus waved the open envelope and parchment in the air and started to dance around the room.

Julie dropped her mouth open in shock, but then started to laugh. She joined Remus in the dancing and snatched up his envelope.

"We'll go shopping in Diagon Alley, dear. I'll take the day off tomorrow!" She turned to the man in her bed. "Thank you for your generosity, sir, from last night. Looks like I'll need every cent of it!"

The wizard smirked and said, "Anytime you need anything else, we can do this again eh?"

He got up and pulled on his cloak, standing woozily onto his feet. "Congratulations, young man, Hogwarts is the finest institution there ever was. I graduated there myself."

And then he Disapparated, leaving Remus somewhat amused. Julie shook her head.

"Your mother would have been so proud," Julie said. "I know I am."

"I know," he said. "I know."