Innocence of Youth

Innocence of Youth Chapter 4

A Distant Mirror

Calm and Cautious

The tiny boy ran back and forth through the paddock, past the garden, longish brown hair riding the wind above his shoulders. His mouth was opened wide in an hysterical grin and his arms waved wildly above his head as he passed the enormous horse chestnut tree by the tool shed.

There was a sudden clack as the wooden doorframe, its white paint gleaming in the light, slammed into the outside wall of the house. A silhouetted figure towered in the open doorway.

"REMUS! You get back in here this instant!"

Remus stopped his aimless running for a moment, his high-pitched screams of laughter dying instantly to be replaced by tiny furrowed brows and a twisted U of a mouth. One finger went to his cracked lips and the other scratched in his hair; "uhng?" and looked askance at his father.

Later, safely scooped up in his mother's arms, wrapped in the warmth of a charmed towel, his chestnut locks hanging damp about his round face, he smiled again as his mother cooed softly.

"Imagine, my little Remus running about naked for all the world to see. How did you even get out of the house my little angel darling?"

Remus chuckled, his already piercingly attentive grey eyes hiding beneath their pale, crinkled lids. His eyes puffed out like perfect red tinged peaches as he grabbed his mother's ears and tugged a bit, chewing on her hair.

"Naked...could one even imagine?" His mother gently combed Remus' damp hair back off his face and continued to dry him, "Let's get you to bed my bonny angel darling."

A few years later:

"REMUS!" Remus could hear his father's voice all the way to the pond through the copse of slender trees a good thousand or so meters beyond the house. He wasn't quite sure why he thought that swimming was such a good idea anyway. But then, he wasn't thinking too clearly at the moment. A haze of brown, smoky flames seemed to obscure his sight, wisps of steam coming out of his ears. Perhaps sneaking a touch of his father's Old Ogden's wasn't such a bright idea. He stumbled into the pond, the icy water causing in his head the sensation of a plume of steam and flames being suddenly drowned out. He suddenly remembered having forgotten to put the bottle, with its never burning, always flaming label, back among the other bottles on his father's shelf in the study.

Remus thought about running, but he realized that doing so would be just about as stupid as having gotten caught out with the fire whiskey bottle still sitting open on the dining table had been. He shivered in the shallows of the pond and climbed out. His short legs were cramping with the cold he hadn't even noticed before, as he clasped his shoulders and trudged back up the path to the house. Remus was fairly reckless but he never shirked responsibility once he was caught.

"REMUS!!" The wood of the doorframe clacked violently against the outside wall of the house. Across the paddock and through his mother's herb garden, a figure was silhouetted against the warm yellow light of Never Be Burned brand torches. "You come in here at once!"

Later, after a bit of his father's strap to the bottom and a very stern talking to, his mother put him into a hot bath and gave him a mug of thick, steamed chocolate flavoured with a bit of lavender and ground chili.

"Why is it always naked with you my bonny angel darling?" she muttered, hiding a grin behind the wet washing cloth as Remus' teary eyes, grey-flecked with black, like shattered crystal, hid behind crinkled soft lids and the steam from his drink.

Some time later:

"REMUS!!!" Remus, pulled up short, his hair fluttering a bit behind his ears and his shoulders hunching. He had been so quiet sneaking out! And really, maybe his father wouldn't notice that Remus had taken his father's wand?

Peregrination

The air was deliciously fresh, the light breeze ruffling the long strands of Remus' chestnut hair. He shivered a bit, gathered his woolen robes around him and moved further from the rambler's accommodation where he and his parents were staying for a short holiday.

At seven, Remus was already a fairly accomplished young wizard. He knew a couple of hexes and was able to make objects levitate using the wingardium leviosa charm he'd watched his mother use to help herself in the kitchen. It was that charm, in fact, that was the key to the prank he had prepared for this, the last evening of the holiday.

Remus wiped his sweaty palms on his robe and clutched his father's robe as he silently pronounced the Latin in his head. But then, as though from nowhere, the night was shredded in a wild tangle of black and red, grey and lupine yellow as Remus staggered back, arms up in an ineffectual attempt to protect himself. The boy got out a gasping scream, quickly choked off by the feel of fur-covered limb shoved against his throat. He was staggering beneath the weight, falling onto his back, robes askew, looking up in desperation, his grey eyes wider than seemed possible, reflecting every star in the night sky surrounding the swollen harvest moon. And then he saw it:

The thing's torso curved out, chest thrust forward. Its blunt snout with a slavering, flailing pink of tongue and jagged yellowish teeth shook to the sky as spittle flew around its head. Its meaty arms rippled with barely contained energy beneath the knubbly brown fur coat spreading over its body in all directions from the ripped legs and tattered waste of once thick wool trousers. Its bones almost seemed to splinter and move as the vaguely man-shaped thing came free of its clothes and crouched, howling in pain. It snarled at him, curling in a fetal position. Remus tried to run; he could have sworn that he was running, but as the thing climbed to its paws, growling deep in its chest, Remus inexplicably lay still on his back in front of it. He whimpered as the thing...the wolf?...lowered its head toward him. Its teeth were bared and its long tongue was once more hanging across the bottom front row of canine teeth. Remus was mesmerized by the wolf's yellow eyes and piercing black pupils. It seemed unstable with a muscular hump of shoulders above the legs that seemed spindly and randomly splayed beneath it by comparison.

Remus finally made himself move. He got his elbows under him and grabbed for his father's wand. He stuttered out, "win-wingordim leoosee," but nothing happened to the wolf and it almost seemed to laugh before raising its snout to the fat, orange moon and howled. Remus screamed and finally was able to get his feet under control. He spun and started to sprint back to his family's tents, panting with exertion, steam pluming from his mouth beneath tearing eyes. Remus could hear the wolf behind him and he pushed himself harder but his short legs were no match for those of a grown wolf. The lupine blur behind him leapt and knocked Remus forward. His chest slammed into the leaf-covered loam of the trail pushing Remus' breath clear from his lungs. His eyes squeezed shut and his cry was a barely more than a silent grunt as his father's wand flew from his hand. Then the wolf was on him, wet nose snuffling his neck, tongue on his cheek, holding him down. He tried to struggle but was pinned and his voice came back to him in a scream as he felt the jagged teeth of the wolf grip his shoulder and its jaws lock with terrible power around his upper arm. His blood soaked out into the remnants of his robes' shoulder. The wolf raised its snout again, let out a howl and was suddenly knocked back by a jet of red light.

In front of Remus stood his parents, his mother screaming, "REMUS!" as she blasted the wolf with some sort of curse. He smelled its fur burn as it whimpered and slunk back. It growled at them, back stepping to the shadowed trees. His mother began to shout a second curse when the wolf turned on its haunches and leapt into the shelter of the forest, quickly disappearing.

His father scooped Remus up and pulled him tight into his arms. "Remus, son, can you hear me?"

"Da-Daddy?" Remus looked up weakly and almost immediately passed out.

His mother stifled a cry and summoned a smile to soothe her son, "it's all right Remus; we're here. Don't you worry my bonny angel darling. Let's get you back to the tent."

His father carried him back to the tent and his mother quietly stooped behind him to pick up the missing wand. She would slip it back in the tent when her husband wasn't looking. There was no need for Remus to be in trouble for that now. It was quite obvious that he had already been punished for whatever prank he had been about to execute when what could only have been a werewolf attacked him.