The Shrieking Shack || The Marauders (Book 1)

3. REMUS

It had been a rather long summer for Remus Lupin, the longest of the ones he could remember. Most of it he had spent pacing up and down his room as happiness, doubt, anticipation and finally fear clutched at his throat, exactly in that order. He still had trouble believing what had happened about a month ago.

"You must eat more, Remus," his mother said as she brought snacks into his bedroom for him. "You look so pale."

'You look so pale' her mother said that a lot. Well, of course I do, Remus thought bitterly, what else do you expect from a growing- a growing... But the words failed him even in his own mind, a feeling of utter disgust creeping up his chest, as it did every time he thought about his pitiful condition.

For Remus Lupin was no ordinary child. Some might go as far as to say that he was no child at all. Remus Lupin was a werewolf. Which meant that every full moon night he turned into a vicious monster with claws, talons, fur and an unquenchable blood-lust, whose only motive was to hurt, wound,  kill and feed on human flesh. To make the matter worse, anyone that survived the wolf's attack would turn into a werewolf themselves. That's how he had turned into a werewolf in the first place.

His parents had spent the last seven years of their life trying to conceal this very fact from the world: moving houses, evading human contact. The Lupins had no family friends, nor were they in contact with any of their relatives, just as Remus had no real friend.

But everything had changed that evening when he met Dumbledore. His father had been furious, he wanted nothing to do with the school. But after much insistence Remus was sent up to his room so that his parents could talk to Dumbledore.

Remus didn't know the details of the conversation, but the gist of it was made clear to him two hours later, when his parents called him from his room. Remus was shocked to see his parents in such a state. He didn't remember ever seeing his parents so happy. His mother was in tears and his father couldn't stop smiling.

They told him that Albus Dumbledore had made special arrangements so that even Remus could go to school with other eleven-year-olds like himself.

Remus had to pinch himself twice before believing that he was not really dreaming. He could go to school and learn magic with kids his own age. He could grow up to be a wizard, just like his father. Also, Remus didn't dare hope, but maybe- just maybe- he might also make some friends. The news simply sounded too good to be true.

In fact, now as his father pushed his trolley loaded with his trunk full of spell-books forward at the King's Cross Station, he still felt as though he was living a dream and tightened his grip on his mother's hand, dreading he might wake up.

"What platform was it, again?" asked his father cheerfully.

"Nine and three quarters," his mother replied uncertainly. Remus's mother was a Muggle and though she had been married to a wizard for many years now, she still had trouble believing what she called the 'wizarding wonders' such as the existence of a wizard's platform- nine and three quarters, in the middle of King's Cross Station in London.

His father stopped abruptly in front of the barrier between platforms nine and ten. "Here we are," he said.

His mother bent down and kissed him on his forehead. "Oh, I can't believe it's actually happening," she said, tears threatening to fall off her eyes. "I'm so proud of you, Remus." She then proceeded to engulf him in a rib-crushing hug. "And remember- don't go wondering about at night, and don't shy away from eating." She added, fussing about his hair. 

"Alright, alright," he said, trying to shake her off. "I'll be a good boy."

"And honey," she continued, though this time her voice was barely audible. "No matter what you do, no matter how good your new friends may seem- never reveal- remember, concealment is the-"

"Concealment is the key to survival," he said irritably. "I know, mother."

"Alright it's time now," Lyall Lupin said, looking at the large clock over the arrivals board which said it was only ten minutes to eleven. "The train leaves at eleven. Let's go."

"Goodbye, honey!" His mother waved to him as he jogged towards the barriers separating the two platforms with his father.

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