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Remus John Lupin was an average boy born into a fairly wealthy family. His mother Hope was an artist, a truly wild and smart soul. She loved all things vivid and loud, often playing music as she put together various exciting canvases. She particularly loved all sorts of animals, often taking Remus hiking through the Welsh forests with a sketchbook and camera as they tried to snap and sketch the wildlife. His father Lyall was a stern man, his mother always said he didn’t used to be that way, and it was his recent job to be blamed for the man he is. He was very tall, and he was magic. Like really magic, but Remus couldn’t tell anyone in the village, as they were muggles- like his mum. They didn’t know if Remus was magic yet, and he would find out when he was 11. His mum told him that his his dad’s parents and aunt had been magic- but they weren’t around anymore.
Sometimes Remus didn’t like his dad, like when he shouted at him for running in the house when his mum always allowed him, or like when he wouldn’t let Remus go to school like he village boys did. But other times he was very fun, like the time when he gave his mum a magic camera for Christmas, one that made pictures move and never ran out of film so they could take as many forest photos as they wanted. Or the time when he came home from work early on his 5th birthday and took Remus and his mum to this magic street that had a sweet shop with sweets he never saw before. His dad said most people walking there were magic, and showed him floating objects while Remus and his mum laughed at their funny clothes. Remus really liked his 5th birthday, it was the best day ever. He wished every day he would wake up and get to relive his birthday, again and again in a long loop. His father even promised him to come back for his 11th to buy a pet he could take to with him to the magic school- if he got in!
Unfortunately, his 5th birthday was almost 2 months ago now, and it seemed like everything has gone downhill ever since. His father was working longer than ever - leaving at sunrise and coming home late, tired and agitated. Meaning that Remus had to be on his best behavior at all times when his father was home. Sometimes, he would go to bed extra early just to not see his father that evening. The boy felt bad about it, but he would rather pretend to be asleep and read in his room that be victim to his fathers shouting. One day his dad came home early in such a foul mood that Remus was sent away to his room immediately and forced to leave his school books in the living room. He had been reading about the stars and the universe that day - topics he found rather interesting- and he didn’t want to stop, especially not yet. It wasn’t time for bed, and he usually read for a few more hours while his mum worked. His father was not happy. That day marked the first, and last time that Remus’ father hit him.
That day did not get any better, as Remus spent the rest hugging his knees in his room as he tried to drown out the sound of his parents arguing. Lots of words were thrown about, some that Remus was never allowed to say. Ones his mother explained were to never be used as they only belittled and insulted people, and that was not nice. What Remus understood is that his fathers day was ruined by a very rude and dangerous man who had tricked people at the magic court. Remus understood that his father was angry, but he didn’t understand why he didn’t follow techniques his mother had taught him to calm down.
Either way, Remus was now a big boy, so when the branches of the big tree started to hit his window again, he simply tried covering his ears to block out the sounds.
“It’s all my imagination.” The boy whispered as he rocked slightly in his bed, putting his covers over his head to block the shadows floating by his window. After all, it was just a couple of days ago that his dad had magicked in Remus’ room to protect him from the scary monsters in his wardrobe and the shadows outside.
He stayed curled up in a tight ball for another few moments, but his parents shouts were not calming down, and the tree kept knocking. Usually, he would be falling to sleep around now but it’s been hours and he was exhausted, yet something was keeping him from the lull of his warm bed. Everything just seemed wrong, his toes stuck to the covers in cold sweat, his duvet felt too thick and also too thin at the same time, it was like he was sweating but also shivering at the same time- he just wanted today to end so he could wake up tomorrow to a nice day.
He didn’t notice exactly when the noises began to take a different turn. His parents were not doubt still arguing, yet their voices had been nothing more than hushed murmurs, impossible to make out. Meanwhile, outside the branches grew still, blanketing the boys room in a sense of mock tranquility. The only sound left was his own shallow breathing, too shaky and too quick, as he clung to his blanket like it might save him.
And then-
Tap.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
It wasn’t a branch this time… it sounded almost like a knock on his window. But it couldn’t have been- Remus could still faintly hear his parents in the living room, and the nearest neighbor wasn’t for miles. Yet the boy tightened his grip on the covers, holding on to them as if they would protect him from the world.
“It’s the tree,” the little boy whispered in the dark as the tapping continued, voice shaking. “It’s the tree, it’s just the tree-”
Silence.
Click.
The window?
The latch.
Remus froze.
A cold gust of fresh air washed over the room, making Remus shiver involuntary- but that wasn’t the worst of it. A foul, puke inducing stench began to spread around the room. Mix of sweat, rot, wet dog and blood. The boys heart pounded in his head so loud it almost downed out the sound of footsteps.
One.
Two..
Three…
Creeping closer with each heartbeat, making the boy silently pray that he protested harder about staying in the living room with his parents. Parents that he was too frozen to call. It felt like he had entered an almost trance of sorts, holding out on breathing, thinking and moving alike as he hoped the noises were just a figment of his overactive imagination.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are…” A voice whisper sang. It was wrong. Off in all the ways a human should sound. It drawled its words but also cut them short. The sound itself seemed too smooth yet you could hear the roughness in the edges. It felt like the voice was almost a song- almost a growl.
“I SAID COME OUT!”
The blanket was ripped from the bed.
Remus couldn’t hold in the scream this time. His voice tore through the room like a siren as the monster towered above him- more beast than man, with yellow eyes and jagged teeth and the stench of death clinging to its skin.
“MUM!” The boy screamed kicking wildly. “MUM!”
Tears blurred his vision as he tried to fight off the monster’s inhumane grip. Its hands were massive and strong, and when they clamped down on his arms, it felt like they would leave bruises for life.
“Your mummy can’t save you from this.” The monster said, with a tone of happiness in its voice. And before the boy could scream out for help again-
-it bit.
The hot, blinding pain was instant. So was the guttural scream that damaged the boys vocal chords, full of anguish and pleading. Pleading for life, help and for the end of this suffering. One that no 5 year old should ever experience. It felt like fire, and blood began to rush down his arms in waves. The boys eyes were far too filled with tears in the moment to ever even see the creature behind the attack that would change the course of his life, yet he would soon come to learn that the face of this monster would often come to haunt him in his darkest moments of life.
In the final moments before his small body gave out, all the boy could feel was the fire burning through his shoulder and throat- and the sharp, sudden loss of something he would never get back: safety.
He would never feel safe again.