𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿𝗯𝗮𝗹𝗹 | 𝗵.𝗷.𝗽

third year .*･｡ﾟ.*･ 13

t h i r d p e r s o n (L y r a)

"All right." Lupin said submissively. "But you'll need to help me, Sirius. I only know how it began."

A very loud creak sounded from the door behind him. All six of them stared around stupidly.

"No one's there." Lupin said.

"This place is haunted!" Ron said loudly, bright blue eyes shining and wide with fear.

"It's not," said Lupin, looking tired. "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted... the screams and howls the villagers heard were made by me."

Realisation hit Lyra in the face like a stack of books. Obviously.

"That's we're all of this starts, my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten... and if I hadn't been so foolish." He glanced quickly at Black when he said this, who chewed his lip anxiously. Lyra could practically feel Lupins heart aching through his chest.

He looked older than Lyra had ever seen him, and so, so miserable. Black was, for the time that evening, not with a mad glint in his grey eyes. Instead, they looked dull and slightly glazed over.

Lyra's eyes were glued to Lupin's lanky frame, hanging on to every word, glance or stutter. Ron started to interrupt. "Shh." Hermione and Lyra shushed him at the same time.

"I was a small boy when I received the bite, no older than five." His eyes flashed with something like anger, or sadness, it was difficult to tell them apart. "My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure, nothing they could do, except watch their son suffer." Lyra felt like there was something he was holding back, not telling them.

"I thought I wouldn't be able to attend Hogwarts, but then Dumbledore became headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He said that as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn't come to school." Lupin said, blowing a piece of greying mousey-brown hair out of his face.

"I told you, Harry, months ago, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. The truth is that it was planted because I had come to Hogwarts." There was a lump in Lyra's throat. She didn't know where this story was going, but still she listened raptly.

"This house -and the tunnel that leads to it- they were built for my use. Every month on the full moon, I was smuggled out of the castle, and into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to prevent anyone from entering or coming across me while I was dangerous."

"My transformations in those days were- were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead." The scars, Lyra thought, her heart pounding painfully loud in her ears.

"The villagers heard the noise and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumour. Even now, when the house has been silent for years, the villagers still don't date approach it."

He now smiled weakly, his eyes flat and lifeless. "But apart from my transformations, I was happier than I ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, three great friends. Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew and -of course, your father, Harry- James Potter." He shut his glistening eyes, looking overwhelmed, like he was relieving a lifetimes worth of memories, all at once.