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Remus didn't know what to expect the first time. To be honest, he didn't really know what was going on. All he knew was as the datehad gotten closer - the datehis father had circled on the calendar now hanging in the kitchen - he had started to feel different. He’d started wandering around at night, waking up his parents as he searched for something. Young Remus still didn't know what he searched for as his skin started to… well, itch wasn't quite the right word, but it was the best word the almost-five-year-old had to describe the feeling of getting too big for his skin, too big for his room, just... too big.
Tonight his Da had taken him by the hand and led him out to the garden shed he’d been cleaning out. Da had been waving his wand at it and muttering spells that Remus wished he understood dt. He and Remus entered the shed, he sat Remus down, and he said “Be brave, my little man.” Then he backed out of the shed.
Remus heard his father shut the door and latch it. His only light came from the rays of the setting sun which slanted through the gaps in the old shed’s wall. Then he heard metal clanking, and muttered spells. Remus wasn’t sure what was going on, but he was going to be brave just like his Da asked him to be. And so he wrapped his arms around his knees and waited.
At first Remus wasn't sure what was happening. All of a sudden it felt as if there was no air in his lungs, like that time he had fallen out of the tree after climbing too high. He gasped and fell on his side, holding his stomach. Thwmp there his breath went again, and Remus was still on the ground and then CRACK! and pain and his arm was bent at a funny angle just like it had been a month ago- Remus took a deep breath; he wasn't going to cry- he was going to be brave just like Da had asked him to be.
His arm hurt so mu- CRACK and then CRACK and then over and over more cracking and more thwmps and more pulling and pinching, and everything hurt and he couldn't move and he couldn't see through the tears as they streamed down his face and his throat hurt- And it was only then he realized he hadn't been brave, and he was screaming… Oh he was screaming so loud, why wasn't anyone coming? Where were Da and Mum? Why was he out here all by himself and-
He was hungry. Oh, he was so hungry. He could smell them. Smell the...the food so close. Now he could hear them crying, and a shushing sound and words he somehow understands...“It'll be okay”. Oh no, it will not be okay. He had to get to them. Had to get to the food- Oh he was so hungry and so he threw himself at the barrier, at the weak little barrier, between him and those tasty animals and- OH! There was silver on the barrier, spells and magic and... Sniffing, he could smell them, smell the food on the other side.
Maybe he couldn't get to the weak creatures, but oh, he was so hungry... He needed to rip and bite and tear at something, anything. The only thing left- the only thing left was him. There was nothing else in this small and pitiful room. Maybe he wouldn't get his food. Maybe he could only attack himself, but soon- soon he would get on the other side. And soon he would bite more than just himself... until then he laid down, paws over his snout, and scratched, digging his claws into fur. He howled, part in pain and part in frustration, the scent of prey so close and at the same time so far from reach. He turned, biting at a foreleg, sharp teeth slicing through fur and skin so fast that the pain only started to hit as he tore the skin. Blood stung as it dripped down his snout and splattered the floor. He howled again, crying out in confusion and pain and loneliness.
*
The first time Remus changed at Hogwarts, he did not know what to expect. But then again at almost 12 years old he had realized he was never going to know what to expect. The matron, Madam Pomfrey, had led him here before sunset and handed him a cold supper. He sat there waiting for the moon to rise and thinking about the roommates who thought he was visiting his parents. Boys he'd spend the last two weeks watching and cautiously returning their friendship. James Potter with his dark skin and messy hair, always laughing and snarky but also clever and surprisingly kind. James' best friend, and constant shadow, Sirius Black. From a family Remus had long heard about, and who seemed to be nothing like them; Sirius was slow to smile but quick to laugh, always making fun of others in a way that Remus was slowly sensing was deflecting attention away from a deep personal pain. And Peter; who was quiet and shy, but remarkably smart and kind. Why these three boys decided that he was worthy of friendship, Remus had no idea. He was scared of letting them get too close; always keeping them at arms length. It was better to have acquaintances than friends who left once they figured it out. At least that's what Mum and Da always said. Plus moving from place to place as often as they did, he had never had a chance for real friends.
An old pro at his transformations, Remus recognized the signs; the increased prickling sensation, the pins and needles all over his body and sudden pain in his jaw. He know he would be changing soon, and so pulled off his clothes, nervous energy making his feet and fingers tap as he folded them and set them on the shelf. Now naked, he surveyed the shack, which was larger than some of the houses he lived in as a child. He walked around, anxious energy leaving him unable to sit still. The pull of the moon and the tides created tides in his blood; he felt pulled to run, to leap, to explore as he always did before moonrise. Suddenly the pain began (as it always did) in his stomach and he grabbed his stomach before falling to his knees. Remus wondered, in a detached sort of way, if it was because his internal organs changed first. It still felt like a punch to the gut and losing his breath all at once. He crawled to an open area, experience dropping him to the floor before his legs broke and could no longer hold him. SNAP the first bone broke and Remus tried to breathe through the pain but soon he was screaming, voice hoarse by the time his skull broke and he could smell clearly, breathe clearly, for the first time in weeks- and then the screaming stopped, cut off with a harsh and ragged sound as his vocal chords shifted to that of a canine. His ears were ringing as he heard the snap and crack of breaking and reforming bones.
He panted, trying to catch his breath. Soon, fur started growing all over him, pushing itself through his skin, and he howled. The Wolf knew something was different as it gained more control of his body. The Wolf could smell prey but… It was faint- yes. There was more, it was farther away and two directions, but still there was more. With a twitching nose, the Wolf could smell there were other things- different things- much closer too. A small rabbit, and squirrels, and other creatures. Things with the sharp scent of magic ("woman" the Other said softly in a back corner of the canine's mind). The Wolf howled again and ran towards the closest smells of prey andSMACK into wood. Different wood, stronger wood, that was reinforced with spells of a much different caliber. Howling, the Wolf took out his frustration and scratched at the door before turning around he ran pell-mell in the other direction trying to gain force to get through a window. The only thing that broke was a sickening crunch in his shoulder. With a yelp and a growl, the Wolf backed away slowly, limping along the perimeter, and up the stairs; scouting his new territory. The Wolf found nothing but an unlucky rat hiding in a closet. Sharp teeth and sharper claws now red, the Wolf paced, moonlight hitting his golden fur. As always, the need could not be put off for long; the need to bite and scratch. The need to rip and tear. The need to feel more flesh between his teeth. So the Wolf did what it had done for over five years. Turning on itself, it bit and tore at its paws and forelegs. It snapped at it's tail and anything else it's sharp teeth could reach. It scratched it's face and stomach; trying in vain to create another creature and end it's loneliness.
*
The first time he changed with his friends Remus was so scared. "You can't do this. It's too dangerous! I won't let you," Remus said as he turned around and saw his friends crawling through the passageway into the Shack. James and Sirius and Peter, who are the best friends a werewolf- hell, a boy- could ask for. James who is loyal, funny, smart, and could've been a Hufflepuff (but don't tell him that- Gryffindor through and through). Brave and just and righteous in his views, Sirius was full of snark and sass, braver than his parents realized and suddenly- suddenly so much more to Remus... But he wasn't going to admit that. And Peter, Peter who is smart and clever and had a dry wit that rivaled everyone. Peter, who is good at chess even if he did seem to follow James and Sirius around at first that was fine, because, really everyone liked to be liked, didn't they? Three good friends. There was already so much he was blessed to have and to be asking for anything more- well that was just asking to be burned. These three friends who had given up so much time and effort over the years in order to make his monthly torture just a little bit better, but could he let them do this? They wouldn't know if it would work. Yes, of course he'd seen them change, and yes he knew that the wolf wasn't really a danger to other animals (except perhaps small things that liked to run away) but Peter had been told to always stay with one of the others and to never run. Still, how could he let his friends do this, what if it didn't work? What if he knew they were human- well mostly human- human underneath the fur (but then so is he...).
"I can't let you do this," he said as his fingers shook trying to unbutton his shirt. He ached, pre-transformation magic causing him to feel jittery and hyped up, unable to be still. He ached to run, to chase, his skin was prickly... It was a pre-moon feeling that he had, until now, always associated with pain and loneliness. His friends had patched him up on numerous mornings after the moon, when the full-moon burst of energy had faded and sometimes even opening his eyes took more energy than he had. They had seen his scars, and for once he was not ashamed- no, he was petrified. "I don't care if you think it will work," he said, knowing how harsh he sounded when terrified and tried to use that edge to his advantage. "I want you gone. I can't- I won't risk you- You don't understand what you all mean to me..." he said and turned away. He ignored the hushed argument behind him, instead taking his shirt off finally and stepping out of his pants (the button there was always easier than the blasted tiny ones on his shirt). He folded his pants and his shirt and placed them on top of his socks and shoes in the cabinet.
When he turned around all three of his friends are still there. He put his hands on his hips and growl came from his throat. "You don't understand," he said voice low as he let the feeling of the wolf slip out. Remus felt another growl in his throat as he said to his friends "I won't be responsible for hurting you!" The glare he gave could've burned metal and still Remus was shocked when James shrugged, put his hands on Sirius and Peter and said "OK mate fine. We'll see you tomorrow morning."
They turned to leave Sirius and Peter protesting. After they went through the tunnel, Remus shut the door and locked it so that those with paws would not be able to get through. Just then he felt the gut punch that always signaled moonrise. Already on his knees, something felt worse this month, Remus let out a groan that turned to a scream. As though from far away heard Sirius shout "Remus!" and then James and Peter shouting Sirius' name and then Sirius- and then he heard the soft padding sound of paws and scratching on the door in front of him.
Between groans and hisses of pain, Remus managed to croak out a faint "no". He felt his spine stretch and break then, and he was unable to hold back a scream as he continued to feel bones breaking and fingers crunching. He could hear faint whines and whimpers on the other side, as his vocal chords reformed.
The Wolf whined and pawed at the door, mimicking the sounds from the other side. It could hear the sturdy sounds of hoofbeats and the sharp squeaking sounds of a rat behind the whines of not-Pack that still something told him could be a possible Pack mate. Something was different. Something was off... they were prey (No! Screamed the Other at the back of his mind) and yet not-prey and then there was a subtle sharp tang of magic about them. All the Wolf knew was that something clicked in the wall and then it moved and slowly a big black dog entered the room.
*
The first time Remus changed with the Wolfsbane potion he thought he was going to die.
Remus honestly thought that perhaps Severus had poisoned him. It's not like Remus knew how to brew the potion or what it was supposed to taste like. What it did taste like was aconite, one of the only poisons werewolves are susceptible to, and what he had used when he tried to kill himself oh so many years ago. It hadn't worked. Instead it only made him violently ill; he woke up three days later sore, groggy, and surrounded by a pile of his own sick. And still horribly, miserably, alive. That's what drinking this wretched potion reminded Remus of. It reminded him of the taste he woke up with after unsuccessfully attempting suicide. It reminded him of feeling lost and lonely and alone. No friends, no family, nothing. And Snape could be doing it on purpose. For all he knew, a little too much of one potion ingredient and Remus could die, a little too less and the rampaging monster that he truly was could be running through the halls of Hogwarts killing James' son. It would all be his fault (just like it already was) and when he drank it that first full moon Remus wasn't certain if he'd wake up.
He knew that he wanted to wake up. He was finally getting to know Harry, the child he should've helped raise, his best friend's son. Instead the boy was 13 and had no idea who Remus was. And so Remus sat naked in his office in front of the fire. The fire warmed his always aching joints, but they were worse now that the moon was full. He sat on a cushion, arms around his knees, fingers twitching and toes tapping. He still had the urge to run, to wander, to explore, but it was more focused energy. He was searching for a Pack, his Pack. A Pack that no longer existed. So while it was more focused, it was still aimless because Remus knew none of them were ever coming back. Sirius had escaped, but he was on a vengeful mission to kill Harry and damned if he was was going to let that happen.
So, he sat on the floor and waited for the feeling of moonrise. When the gut punch came, it was so much worse than normal. It was as if the wolf was fighting back from the cage the potion had created. As his bones broke and his innards twisted Remus wondered if this is been such a good idea. The change was as bad as his first time. That had been because of the unknown. This felt as if he was drowning, unable to catch his breath, while being stretched on an old fashioned torture rack. Remus had thought he was prepared, thought he was used to the pain, thought it couldn't get any worse. He had no idea how wrong he was. Perhaps this was how he died, trying desperately to tame the monster, only to have it get the best of him one last time.
As his hands shortened, the skin on the palm of his hands created thick pads to protect paws, and his fingernails became sharp claws. His spine and skin stretched, forming a tail and growing hair. Remus desperately tried not to howl, hoping Dumbledore's Silencing charms would hold. Tears streamed down his breaking face as the soundproofing reverberated his moans and cries. As his form settled, the wolf stretched lazily, curled up next to the fire and slowly went to sleep.