Make Me.

Book 1 - Chapter 1

Mr. Remus John Lupin was happy to be watching the sunrise on a particularly warm July morning. He had lived through hell and back, every month when the full moon came around, a wizarding war, the loss of his best friends, and the additional responsibility of taking care of a baby at the ripe age of twenty years old, a baby that wasn't even his. His life had always been an unpredictable struggle, one that he never thought he would make it very far into. However, leaning against the kitchen sink with one hand, holding a coffee cup in the other, looking out the window at the sunrise, he realized how wrong he had been.

As warm steam rose from the cup, tickling his nostrils, he looked out at the landscape he was graced with every morning. He was lucky enough to live in a place where he could see it all: the sea and its shore, the rocky cliffs and the grassy plateaus atop them, and a flower field which was dissected by a small stream leading towards an equally small pond. He did not take his fortune for granted though; he knew he was, in his most real form, unfortunate; he knew this wasn't his house, this wasn't his landscape to be drinking in every morning, but he was happy to do it nonetheless.

He lived on a small forested island off the cost of Scotland, small in comparison to the whole country, but for an island, it was quite large. Scotland would have never been his first choice, but again, nothing in his life was his choice. The island was unplottable, un-domesticated, and far from the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Magic; a perfect place for people of his and his god-daughter's kind. The house, like the island, was quite large, large enough to feel empty when everybody was home. Again, this was not his choice; the house had been left to his god-daughter, and considering the circumstances of her parents departure, he would have been stupid not to take her and live in it, away from the world.

He brought the cup to his lips, pausing for a moment to tip the cup slightly as to not burn himself, and as he sipped, a light pitter-patter of small feet coming down a set of stairs flooded his ears. A smile crept along his lips at the sound he would never grow old of. Turning around, leaning his back against the sink, he set the cup down on the counter next to him and looked for the source of his favorite sound. Just entering the kitchen, he saw the small girl who had seized his heart nearly eleven years earlier. She shuffled towards Remus and upon reaching him, flung her arms around his waist, a morning tradition. Scooping her up in his arms, Remus returned the hug and placed her on the kitchen island, her legs dangling off the edge.

Remus stepped back, putting his hands on the counter at either side of her body, leaned down and placed a light kiss on the tip of her nose. He looked at her, her and her sleepy face. She was never a fan mornings because morning meant the sun came out. On the other hand, Remus loved mornings for this exact reason. He watched her as she began to wake up. The sun shone through the window above the sink, landing on her pale white skin; she grimaced, moving her hand out of its reach. Remus walked over to the window and drew the sheer curtains, diffusing the sunlight through the room, rather than having its harsh beams shine through the window.

"Good morning, darling," Remus said, looking back at her while leaning back against the sink and picking his coffee cup back up. The girl yawned, stretching her limbs in every direction, and looked at her father. Her stark white eyes meet his soft brown ones and a mischievous smile crept across her lips.

"I've told you before, its just 'Morning,' never good. Mornings are are never good," she replied, her small smile turning into a big toothy grin and her sharp canines popping out and resting upon her bottom lip, much like a kid with much too large front teeth. Remus chuckled and smiled at the sight. 

Over the last eleven years he had grown accustomed to the sight of his daughters not so human features, just as she grew up accustomed to his. Not only was he accustomed, but he admired them: her almost translucent white skin, the glassy white orbs in which occupied her eye sockets, the sharp fangs that lived among her straight white teeth, and her slightly pointy ears that stuck out from her black wavy hair that contained wisps and strands of pure white scattered around the frame of her face.

"You know, that smile would tell me otherwise. It looks like you're having a good morning to me," Remus retorted. 

Despite the girl not being his child, looking nothing like him, she acted just like him. Apparently, in their years spent together, away from the rest of the world, Remus had created an exact copy of himself. The girl was intelligent well beyond her years, a jokester at heart, a fast reader, a lover of chocolate, and, at times, a quite sassy little girl: a force to be reckoned with.

The girl scooted closer towards the edge of the counter, her too short pajama pants shifting up her legs at her movement. Looking her father directly in the eyes, her face turned suddenly serious. "Well." She huffed, pausing to tuck a strand of white hair behind her ear. "I have a feeling its going to be today. It's coming today. I just know it." Her dark eyebrows were now raised in excitement.

"You just know it? And how do you just know it?" Remus asked, taking another bemused sip of his coffee. 

To his dismay, he knew what she was talking about. He knew she was talking about her Hogwarts acceptance letter; she had been waiting for it since last July, and really the July before that, and so on. She had talked about it all last summer and Remus had to break her heart, telling her she would have to wait another year due to her October birthday. She had tried to convince her father to contact the school and allow her to attend at ten years old, seeing as though her birthday would come only two months after the start of term. However, Remus not wanting to let her go a year early, or at all, denied the possibility.

Again, a mischievous smile crept across her lips. Her eyes shifted from his to the window behind him. A faint tapping noise on the glass behind him punctuated the comfortable silence. Remus turned around, sliding the curtains back to their open position.

"That's how, that's how I just know it!" The girl exclaimed, excitement shining in her eyes and spilling from her voice. Hopping quickly off the counter and running to her fathers side, bumping into him and spilling his coffee in her frenzy, she screeched. "Open it dad! Let him in! Open the window!"

Remus put his coffee cup back on the counter besides the sink with shaky hands. He looked to the girl jittering with excitement besides him and then back up to the window. There, hovering outside the glass was a small, brown, barn owl, and attached to its leg with a tie, a thick yellowed envelope with curly writing on it. His shaky hands raised to the window latch, unlocking it. With a small screech, which he could not tell if it came from the window, the owl, or the girl, the window opened and the owl flew into the kitchen with haste. Landing on the island with a soft and tired sounding hoot, the time had come. His daughter was leaving him, the light of his life. And the worst part was, he knew he had to let her go.