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Six years old.
“You’ve just got to give him some time Annwyl,” Hope comforted, leaning forward and wiping some of the dried tears from Remus’s face with her thumb.
“Why—why doesn’t he love me, Ma?” Remus sobbed, he couldn’t understand what exactly he had done to Pa, he’d just wanted to kiss him on the cheek. He kisses Mam all the time.
Hope tutted and shook her head, her worn face stretching into a sympathetic smile that was all too familiar to the young werewolf.
“Remmy, your Pa is an awfully torn man. But he doesn’t hate you.” Hope stood up, her knees cracking slightly, Remus would usually giggle over that and call her ‘silly bones ’, but right now he couldn’t giggle over anything.
Hope was about to help Remus from off of the floor when Lyall emerged from his study, stopping in his tracks as he saw the still sobbing Remus.
“Oh for Godrick—Hope, please tell me that bairn isnae greetin’ again,” Lyall groaned, the burly Scottish man wasn’t one for emotions. Remus immediately wiped his eyes and sat up, desperate to hold in his tears. It made Pa very angry when he cried.
“Lyall, please,” Hope begged, her soft welsh accent bouncing off of Lyall’s brash Scottish tone. Remus tried to remain still; Pa got mad when he made too much noise.
“Bairns are to be seen and no heard, understand?” Lyall had told Remus, who nodded meekly in return.
“Please what, Hope? It’s no my fault we got cursed with a nancy of a son. Away with the fairies that one,” Lyall said, pointing at Remus accusingly. The boy just grabbed onto his knees, rocking himself gently, trying to think about what the heroes in his books would do.
They would fight back, they would fight back against the monster, Remus thought, but he shook off the thought. Ma wouldn’t want that.
“That’s enough Lyall, just get your beer and go,” Hope said sternly, standing in front of Remus, her legs blocking Lyall’s face. Remus wanted to cling to her, but he knew that Pa would hate that.
“What did you just say to me?” Lyall boomed, walking out of the kitchen that was connected to their living room. Remus saw his ma quiver slightly, but she remained in front of him. Unmoving.
“Nothing,” Hope said, her voice suddenly small. Remus felt the tears build again. Don’t cry, don’t cry .
“That's what I thought,” Lyall said, turning and walking back to his study, a beer bottle in hand. Hope breathed out slightly, but tensed again when Lyall turned.
“Just keep on protecting that—that thing, Hope. We both know that he could rip us to shreds in a second if he wanted to.”
Remus couldn’t help as a silent tear ran down his face, he had failed.
He felt Ma flinch as Lyall slammed the study door shut.
Hope breathed out slowly, turning to crouch on the ground, grabbing Remus in her arms, holding him close to her heart, “You did so good darling, you’re such a good boy,” Hope whispered in Remus’s ear, and Remus let himself burst into tears.
“Shush, that's it Annwyl, that’s it.”
Eleven years old.
The platform was noisy. It had never been noisy around the cottage, unless you counted the birds singing or the shouts of Lyall Lupin whenever he decided to throw a fit.
It had been a long journey, and the small family had driven the entire way there. Lyall didn’t like to use his magic nowadays. But Remus suspected that he was just too drunk to remember any of the spells.
Hope remained upbeat the entire time, her chirpy mood quelling only a few of Remus’s anxieties. Lyall had remained blissfully silent, seemingly fighting off a migraine.
“Now, what do they mean by nine and ¾? Lyall this can’t be—” Hope said, passing the note to Lyall, who was lugging Remus’s suitcase.
“Merlin, I forget how Muggle you are, Hope,” Lyall laughed. Remus felt his muscles tense up. Pa never laughed, Ma laughed all the time. But never Pa.
He was unsure what to do as he found himself staring at his Pa, fascinated by the look of amusement on his face.
“Follow me. I may be old, but I will always remember the way to Hogwarts,” Lyall said, walking in front of the family. With an actual spring in his step.
Remus turned and shared a look of wonder with his Ma, both didn’t know what to do with themselves, this uncharted territory unnerving them both. They followed Lyall as he walked up to a brick wall, turning around proudly.
He’s truly lost it, after all of this. He’s lost it, Remus thought.
Lyall walked forward and grabbed his son by his shoulders, pointing him to the wall.
“When I say go, run towards that wall,” Lyall said, and Remus turned to see a smile on Lyall's weathered face. Now, this he knew was mental, but he appeased him, the look of joy on his mother's face was worth a few broken ribs.
So he started running, he ran faster than he ever had before, waiting for the impact. However, when he didn’t feel any pain, he opened his eyes, seeing that he was on another platform, reading a sign that read: Platform 9¾
He felt a shy smile stretch over his face, and he didn’t even care when he felt the sting of the fresh cut on his lip from the last full moon.
“You did it! Well done son,” Lyall said, emerging from the wall, Hope’s arm linked with his. Remus smiled at his Pa.
Maybe he would be okay at this school, maybe if he became an amazing wizard Pa would forget about how bad of a son he apparently was. Maybe he would forgive him for being a monster.
Maybe...
Fifteen years old.
“Another letter?” Sirius whispered to him, and Remus quickly folded the letter and tucked it inside of his robes. The last thing he needed right now was Sirius’s sympathy.
“You could say that,” Remus answered with gritted teeth, reaching over to put milk in his already milky tea.
“Do you want to—”
“—No. Drop it, will you?” Remus said under this breath, glad that James was speaking way too loudly about his latest quidditch triumph to notice the tension between the two.
“Remus, he shouldn’t be sending you shit like that,” Sirius said, his grey eyes too kind. Remus felt his heart thump in his chest. Damn Sirius Black and his beauty, and damn Remus for noticing.
“Yup, and my ma shouldn’t be dying, but we don’t always get what we want,” Remus snapped, standing up from his seat and walking away. He knew that he’d say something he’d regret.
Remus hated that Lyall had given him his anger. Remus hated being angry, he felt too out of control. Remus knew he could get mean. He could be vicious.
So that’s why Remus walked away, and that’s why he was hiding in the boy's toilets, sitting on the toilet, begging the tears to disappear. It had been a year since Ma had told him about her Muggle disease.
“Breast cancer.”
She didn’t want any of Remus’s amateur spell work, even though he begged for her to go to a wizard hospital, begged for Lyall to take her to one. But she refused. And she had accepted her fate.
He’d last seen her at Christmas. She looked so frail in a Muggle hospital bed, a shell of the woman Remus remembered her being. That’s when he started to feel the anger. The anger.
“Why won’t you help her? Couldn’t you tell that she was sick, you bastard!” Remus had screamed at Lyall, the anger bubbling underneath his skin, begging to be let out.
He wanted a fight, but Lyall remained silent, his hands tugging at his greying hair.
“WHY WON’T YOU HELP HER?” Remus had screamed, but Hope just shook her head, begging him to stop.
“Now you see Hope, now you see the monster that you call your son,” Lyall said darkly. And for the first time in his life, Remus didn’t cower, he didn’t back down.
“You’re a coward, Lyall Lupin,” Remus spat, walking out of the hospital room.
Remus felt a tear run down his cheek. He wiped it away immediately. He was fifteen for Merlin's sake.
He regretted telling Sirius about the letters. They’d started about a month ago. One page letters from Lyall that had been growing in violence. He had told Sirius after Sirius had found him crying in their dorm.
Remus felt for the newest one in his pocket and brought it out, unfolding it and rereading it in the cold light of the bathroom.
Remus.
Coward? REALLY?
I’ll show you whos’s a coward you—you—
You’re pathetic. Your mother is dyinng. YOUR MOTHER IS DYING.
Just hid in your stiupid school with your pathtetic friends that willl one day leave you.
Rememberr what you ARE Remus.
Remus scoffed at the spelling mistakes, the once great Lyall Lupin was now a drunk who couldn’t even spell. He crumpled up the letter and threw it at the stall door, hiding his head in his hands.
Remember what you are, Remus.
As if he’d ever forget.
Eighteen years old.
“Just—just wait there. I’ll be like, five minutes,” Remus said to Sirius, unclipping the helmet and handing it to his boyfriend.
He hadn’t been to his childhood home since his ma’s funeral, and the cottage had now become rather decrepit. The garden was overgrown and the paint was peeling.
Remus’s heart hurt as he thought of all of his ma’s precious flowers that she had spent years maintaining that were now just shrivelled, brown flakes.
He kicked an old football out of the way as he approached the house, praying that Lyall wasn’t inside. He just wanted to grab some of his things and never step foot here again. He glanced back to Sirius, who was standing next to his motorbike, smiling at Remus sadly.
He returned the smile and turned back to the house, retrieving the spare key that was somehow still under the plant pot where his mother had left it. He gripped it tightly and turned it in the lock, opening the door with a tentative step.
He entered the house, it was as dirty as Remus had anticipated, and was quite literally piled with crap. The amount of rubbish that was littered around signalled just how much Lyall had let himself go. Remus sniffed and felt his face scrunch in disgust. It stank of stale beer and BO.
“Lyall?” Remus called out. Unsure of why he even did, he had no desire to see his failure of a father, or that's what he’d thought moments earlier.
When he didn’t get a reply he felt slightly relieved, however, he decided to walk forward and follow the trail of beer cans towards the living room.
Remus felt himself stiffen as he saw his father, who was sound asleep on the sofa, the T.V. muted and a bottle of cheap Muggle alcohol by his side.
“Lyall?” Remus repeated, kicking him slightly with the toe of his boot. His father looked much older, and a lot filthier. He suddenly felt incredibly sad for the man in front of him.
“What—who?” Lyall woke, turning and looking up at Remus, his voice thick from sleep.
“Remus?” Lyall asked, sitting up on the sofa, looking at Remus like he was some sort of ghost.
“Just checking if you were alive,” Remus said plainly, starting to turn away. He had no clue what he was doing.
“No wait. Why are—why are you here?”
Remus folded his arms defensively, “I’ve graduated. Not like you give a toss but I’m here to get my stuff. Don’t worry, I don’t intend on staying.”
“You’ve graduated ?” Lyall asked, his eyes lighting up in wonder.
“Yes, and with five O-level N.E.W.T.S,” Remus replied stiffly.
“Merlin,” Lyall said, and Remus just rolled his eyes.
“Whatever Lyall, can I go get my stuff now?” Remus said and Lyall nodded.
Remus walked out of the room, and out into the hallway. He noted that all the photo’s of his ma were still up, so he grabbed one. It was her before she’d met Lyall, when she was eighteen, and she looked so beautiful that Remus felt his heart swell.
He stole a look at the living room before he opened the frame and took out the photo, kissing it before he gently put it in his wallet for safekeeping. He never wanted to forget her.
Remus took a deep breath and started walking up the stairs, doing his best to ignore the horrible state of the house as he ascended. He found his old bedroom and opened the door slowly. Finding it identical to when he had last left it. He breathed out a sigh of relief as he’d been half-expecting for Lyall to have broken all of his belongings.
He slung the backpack he had on his back off and opened it, grabbing his most prized possessions, including his favourite Muggle books that his Ma used to read to him and a few of his old records.
Once he had gotten everything he’d come for, he stood at the doorway, and bid a silent goodbye to his childhood bedroom. And also a silent goodbye to his childhood, and all the happy, dark things that had happened to him.
As Remus was about to leave, he saw Lyall emerge from the living room, “Remus! Wait,” he said, and so Remus did, looking quizzically at the man who had caused him and his ma so much pain.
“Yeah?” Remus replied, and Lyall stopped in his tracks. He used to terrify Remus. He used to scare him so much that he would cry himself to sleep. And as Remus looked at him now, he only felt pity.
“Goodbye,” Lyall said weakly, and Remus nodded.
“Bye, Lyall.” Remus said, opening the door and leaving. Not daring to look back as he walked up the path and to Sirius. To his future.
Remus smiled and he swore he could see Sirius breath a sigh of relief, “Alright?” Sirius asked.
“Yeah,” Remus said slowly, kissing him on the cheek, hoping that Lyall was watching.
Get a load of this Lyall, not only is your son a werewolf, he’s a queer werewolf.
“Get everything?” Sirius asked, handing him the helmet, which Remus clipped on gratefully.
“Aye, now get me the hell out of here,” Remus said, climbing on the bike and hooking his arms around Sirius’s middle.
“Your wish is my command!” Sirius laughed, starting the motorbike and driving away.
Twenty-nine years old.
Remus was woken up by the pecking of an insistent owl on the window of his crappy flat.
“Alright, alright,” Remus grumbled, getting out of his creaky bed and making his way over to the window, opening it with a significant effort.
The owl was an official ministry owl, which made Remus’s mood turn. He grabbed the thick letter from its legs and thanked the grumpy looking owl. He couldn’t spare any food for it.
He took the letter over to his bed, ripping open the seal with his thumb, reading the letter and begging not to see any familiar names.
His eyes popped open as he realised what it was, he read the printed text with a weird feeling as he scanned the page.
Remus J. Lupin,
The Ministry regrets to inform you about the death of one Lyall Lupin. Enclosed is the deceased’s last will and testament as well as a letter the deceased had requested to be sent to one Remus John Lupin.
Remus reread the peculiar paragraph over and over again. He had no idea how to feel. He doesn't feel much nowadays. His life had become a ghost of it once was, and he couldn’t help but think of something his father had written him long ago.
“With your pathetic friends that will one day leave you.”
He shrugged off the thought as he scanned the will, the cottage had been left to him, which he supposed could be handy, but other than that. Lyall Lupin had no other possessions except for debt.
What really intrigued Remus was the letter, which read.
Remus,
I’m dying. I’ve quite literally drunk myself to death. Which will not surprise you. It didn’t surprise me.
I think about you everyday son. I read about what happened to James and Lily, and I knew that you… You—felt things for that horrible Sirius. So for that, I offer my apologies.
But you don’t care for my sympathy, and why should you?
There aren't any words, Remus.
I once was a good man, well, I at least thought of myself as such. Then I became a monster. Not you. Me. And for that, there are no words. But please know that I do love you. And I adored your mother.
Oh Merlin I can’t even begin to explain how much I loved Hope. And for some bizarre reason, she loved me. Even the monster.
She told me to leave you alone, she said that to me on her deathbed, she said “Lyall, please, if you love me. You will leave my Annwyl alone.”
So I did. And I will, forever.
Goodbye Remus. Live your life son, please. Just live it.
Remus folded the letter, and for the first time since he was a boy, he let the tears fall freely.