Marauder Chronicles Chapter 1

The Bite

My name is Remus Lupin, and I am a werewolf. Although I try not to think much about the event, the night that I was bitten drastically changed not only my life, but also the lives of all the people I have ever known. At first, I thought that I could hide or conceal it in some way, but that was easier said than done. Needless to say, I failed miserably. I suppose I should start from the beginning and tell you exactly how things turned out the way they did.

I was extremely young when I was bitten, five to be exact. It was a cool, brisk autumn evening in the small village I called home and almost all the leaves on the ground were trampled. Winter was coming soon, and I was ecstatic. While playing in the leaves that day, Riley, my family's large black lab, went missing in the forests behind our house. Because of this, I made an extremely large fuss that caused my father and I to venture out in search of him. My father told me that we had to hurry because the sun was setting. He seemed very nervous, and at the time, I didn’t know why so I let it go. In my mind, it seemed as if we had searched for hours, when in reality, we had most likely only searched for about ten minutes. I was panicked and desperately looking for any signs of my dog.

When I heard a deep growl ahead of me, I froze. Thinking I had finally found the dog, I ran in the direction of the sound. Even though the sounds that a dog make and the sounds that a werewolf make are vastly different, at that age, I wouldn’t have noticed or cared.

I heard my father calling for me to wait for him, but, like a fool, I ignored him. Before I knew what was happening, my face was in the dirt and there was a searing pain in the tender spot beneath my neck. Wincing, I struggled to turn and see the face of my attacker, but instead I was met by two cold, hungry, steel gray eyes and a mouth packed with finely honed teeth that pierced my flesh. I could feel the monster’s warm, putrid breath caress my skin and the weight of its body on my back, pinning me down. When I looked down, I saw the ground beneath me covered in my own blood.

Every move I made and every breath that I took had an unbearably painful effect. I was horrified and was certain that I was going to die. I felt my life energy escaping with every breath. White lights began to dance in front of my vision, and my consciousness slowly started slipping away. It was then that I heard a familiar voice yell something that I could not comprehend at the time, and suddenly, the weight of the brute left me. The last thing I remembered seeing was the creature fleeing into the woods before my entire world was enveloped in the arms of unconsciousness.

I was out for less than a week. My mother, being a muggle, was sure that the bite would kill me, but my father, a wizard, quickly rushed me to St. Mungo’s hospital for treatment. Unfortunately, there was, and still is, no cure for lycanthropy. As I have mentioned before, after I was condemned to live life as a werewolf, I tried to hide it. However, concealing something like that in a place where everyone knew each other was near impossible, and within a couple of days, everyone knew of my “condition”.

It was terrible. The local children, who I had often played with and thought were my good friends, unexpectedly turned on me. I thought that they would understand and stick by me when they learned of what I had become. But I was wrong. For years they avoided me, partially on their parents orders and partially out of fear. For years this went on, and for years I lived in loneliness. As we grew, their “Remus-phobia” slowly subsided and was instead replaced by disgust. They were disgusted by me and the monster that I harboured within. They teased me, abused me, and tried driving me out of town. “Monster” was what they referred to me as.

I tried to be strong and I ignored it just as my parents told me to, but I found that the more I ignored it, the more I secluded myself. I wanted it to end. I wanted to end the hell that I suffered because of the damned bite. When I voiced these thoughts to my parents, they immediately took action and contacted the one person they knew could help. Albus Dumbledore.


P.S. I own nothing… sadly

--Up To No Good