The Corpse That Lived.

Chapter 11

A/N THANK YOU FOR 1,000 READS!!!Anyone wondering where Remus is?

The cottage sat on the edge of a dense, fog-laden forest, its sturdy stone walls freshly reinforced with protective enchantments. The air inside was warm, scented with woodsmoke and the faint herbal tang of Wolfsbane Potion. Outside, a narrow dirt path wound through the frostbitten grass toward a small village, though few of its residents ventured near. They knew what this place was for. They knew who lived here.

Remus Lupin was tired. He had been tired for years, but this was a new kind of exhaustion, one that settled deep into his bones, weighing on him even as he stirred the cauldron in front of him. The Wolfsbane Potion was nearly done, its surface rippling with a silvery sheen. He inhaled deeply, ignoring the sharp sting in his nostrils. It wasn't perfect. He could never quite get it right himself. He was decent at potions but it was never his strong suit.1

Running a home for werewolf children was expensive. Staggeringly so. Food alone was a challenge, young werewolves had insatiable appetites, their bodies constantly healing, growing, needing more than most. And then there was the Wolfsbane. Each child required a fresh batch every month, a single dose more costly than Remus dared think about. Even diluted, even rationed, it was more money than he had. But he had made a promise.

Most of the children here had been abandoned. Their parents had left them after the bite, fearing what they had become. Remus understood that fear. He had felt it himself when he was a child, when he saw the pity and the terror in strangers' eyes. But his parents had not abandoned him. They had fought for him, had searched for ways to give him a life beyond the curse. They had fought hard enough that he had become the first werewolf at Hogwarts, a boy allowed to learn magic rather than rot away in the shadows.

Now, it was his turn to help those less fortunate than him.

It has been a month since Halloween, the first Halloween, he spent away from Hyacinth

A crash from the other room made him sigh. Probably David and Lillian again. The oldest at seven, (as majority of them were either three or four) were often the rowdiest, torn between the instincts of children and the wild energy of the wolf that lurked beneath their skin. He wiped his hands on a rag and made his way down the hall.

Sure enough, the two of them were rolling on the floor but the immediately came apart the moment Remus went in the room.

"She started it," David said at once.

"Did not!" Lillian shot back. "He took my book-"

"It doesn't have your name on it-"

Remus held up a hand, and they both fell silent. He crouched down, his voice gentle but firm. "We don't fight just because we're angry. If something isn't fair, we talk about it."

David muttered obscenely rude something under his breath causing Lilian to lunge at him again.

Remus sighed, rubbing a tired hand over his face. This was harder than taking care of Hyacinth. Harder than fighting Death Eaters. This was the daily struggle of helping children who had already been dealt bad card in life.

A tiny flick of his wand he separated them with ease. "Listen, both of you as a punishment must help Marigold with the chore, and then, we'll figure out a fair way to share the book. Understood?"

Grumbling, they nodded.

As Remus walked back to the kitchen, he glanced toward the window. The moon would be full in a few days. There was still so much to do. Another month of potions to brew. More wards to strengthen. More letters to write to potential donors.

Of course life was never that easy for Remus because just at that second, a familiar owl flew in.

Remus barely had time to unseal the first envelope before another owl swooped through the open window, landing heavily on the cluttered kitchen table. His fingers traced the familiar slant of Lily's handwriting before his eyes scanned the message.