Silvia and the Rising Moon [EDITING]

1. Illness and Suppression

All she had ever known since she could remember was her brother's secret.
The siblings played when they were very young, before their lives changed. It was obvious that the two would be the best of friends from the second she was born. She sobbed until he lightly pressed a chubby hand to her fresh, premature face. It was as if a blessing had been placed upon the two. He was her guardian, and she, his.
They loved taking walks together. She loved to learn, he loved to teach. It was a mother's dream come true.
That was, until the delicate film of that dream bubble was burst by one sly comment and a need for revenge. That's when the dream turned into a nightmare.
"Silvia, always stay inside on nights like this," They would warn her every night that the white of the full moon would glimmer against the black of the midnight sky.
She knew the procedure for nights like these. It felt like she had known since the beginning of it all.
"If Remus ever turns when you are nearby, always hide. Never make a sound."
She had never witnessed him turning, but she wanted to so desperately. All she shamefully desired was to see what it was that had tortured her brother so badly every night that moon shone through the deathly clouds.
"Silvia, no, you can't see him in his state. We can't risk having someone else like him in our family."
Her parents refused to say what her brother was. It infuriated her.
"I want to see a real werewolf, mum," Silvia told her parents over dinner one night.
"Absolutely not," her mother responded, annoyed. "It's far too dangerous."
Frustrated, she banged her hands on the table.
"That's enough, Silvia," her father snapped. "Your mother said no, and she's right, it is far too dangerous for a little girl."
Her father turned gingerly to his wife and patted her hand. "Are you alright, darling?" he asked her.
"I've lost my appetite," she explained, rising from the table. "Remus, Silvia, both of you, eat your carrots and broccoli, they're good for you."
"You're not eating them, mum," Remus said suddenly. "Are they not good for you."
She rubbed her temples and sighed. "You deal with this, Lyall. I have to lie down."
Silvia looked to her father as her mother walked away. His exhausted eyes watched her go up the stairs.
No one ever told her what events lead up to the night that caused Remus to be permanently changed in every way that she had ever known. There was never a complete explanation, never even a story, either true or make believe, that uncovered the mystery surrounding her older brother's dark side.
All she had ever known was that her father, Lyall Lupin, had made a huge mistake when she and her brother were very young.
Silvia was born in August of 1961, practically a year and a half after her brother became her parent's first child. She was only three when it had happened. Remus was hardly five years old when that fateful night occurred. Silvia and her mother, Hope, were out of town, paying a visit to Granny Howell after her husband's untimely passing. When an emergency phone call caused them to return, the Lupin family's world had been flipped completely upside down. Silvia's brother, Remus, was no longer a human, but a monster.
"It's almost bedtime," Lyall told his children suddenly. "Silvia, I suggest you ask your mother to get the bath water started soon."
"Okay," Silvia responded as she began to climb out of her chair.
"No, not now darling. Finish your dinner first," Lyall told her. "Wait until your mother is feeling better." The three sat in silence for some time as Silvia ate her potatoes and Remus gnawed on a carrot.
"Are you ready for tonight, Remus?" Lyall asked his son.
Remus nodded solemnly. "Maybe it won't happen tonight," he said hopefully.
Lyall swallowed hard. "If only it were that simple," he said, continuing to eat his food despite having lost his appetite some time ago. "No sneaking around tonight, Silvia. I mean it."
Silvia sighed. "I know."
"Also, make sure you have your books ready for school tomorrow. We're not missing the bus again," Lyall added.
The two attended a muggle school in Manchester, where the boys would point and laugh at the scars on Remus's face, entirely unaware of their origins and what potential danger they would put themselves each time they laughed. Remus felt a hint of satisfaction and vengeance through superiority when he saw the other boy's exam scores. He imagined the lashings those boys would receive from their mothers for how poor their marks were. Remus was completely aware of the fact that he was the top pupil in his class. He almost wished that he was merely a muggle, so that he would always be higher than them. Being a muggle also would have meant that he wouldn't have to live out the pain of being a werewolf. However, it wasn't long until even the neighbors began to pick up on how the boy acted strangely. His transformations began to become more obvious, and the Lupins were forced to move to a new village, this time even more remote than the last. Remus knew deep down that his affliction was here to stay.
By the time he was six years old, Remus's parents agreed that he would no longer be permitted to attend school. They came to the realization that he posed far to great of a danger to those around him. Lyall forced a magical education upon the two of his children, fearing that Remus, due to his condition, would never be granted the opportunity of attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
It broke Silvia's heart to see her brother so alone. Right before his transformation, only moments before the full moon rose in the ebony black skies hanging above England, she would cling to her brother and cry. She held on until her parents, screaming in horror and anxiety, would pry the two of them free, and lock Remus in a small, dark, barren room.
Some days were absolutely wonderful. Silvia and her brother would sit on the floor together. They enjoyed racing chocolate frogs before eating them whole. They practiced spells with their father, laughing as things went wrong, and praising each other as things went right. Silvia would reach out carefully to lightly brush Remus's scars. Her fingers would float centimeters away from his face before he'd flinch in fear and quickly turn away from her. Then, she would wrap her arms around his thin waist, bury her face in his lap, and sob.
This occurrence would come about nearly once a week every week before the arrival of full moons. Both Silvia and Remus feared those horrid nights. She'd cover her ears and scream over the sounds of his transformation, her mother would then force a soft hand over her mouth, as to not gain attention of their already suspicious neighbors.
After those nights, life would become almost normal for the Lupins. However, Silvia's premature grief always remained inside of her, like her own personal werewolf that she could never control. It haunted her constantly.
"Mummy, why did that man want to hurt Remus?" She asked one day while her mother made dinner.
Hope Lupin turned to her daughter slowly. Her expression was blank. "I don't know, darling."
Remus looked down at the wood floors. This was the fourth house that the family moved into. It was remote, and about thirty miles from Liverpool. He was only eight years old.
"Does that man want to hurt me too?" She asked carefully.
Her mother did not answer. She looked away from her daughter.
Silvia waited a moment before speaking once more.
"Will Remus ever get better?"
Their mother took a shaky breath. Remus looked up, anxious for her answer. "No, Silvia. Remus will never get better."
Remus looked back to the floor, forlornly. Once again, Silvia let her sobs tear loose.
Her mother shook to the core. "What's wrong?" Her voice cracked as she spoke. She already knew what was wrong.
"I want Remus to get better. He has to get better," she sobbed. "I'm so scared, I'm so worried, mummy. I just want him to get better!"
Remus stood before Silvia as their mother bent down to comfort her. He signed in complete submission before leaving the room and locking himself away from his family. The full moon would appear within a few hours. It was best that he be ready when it does.