In the months that followed before his term at Hogwarts started Remus's condition became increasingly mellow. He managed not to break the window for those months and awoke with fewer scars, if you could still call them scars they looked more like scratches. He had read over his books at least three times each and practically knew each word by heart. Though he knew not to rely solely on the comfort of the intricately worded textbooks and instead broadened his mind. The defence against the dark arts fascinated him the most, so much that he ignored the scathing werewolf chapter.
The months passed in fleeting anticipation soon he found himself on platform 9 3/4 facing the shining Hogwart's express. His parents each kissed his forehead.
"Promise to write to us." Whispered his mother as she handed him a bag full of his favourite Honeydukes chocolate. When a transformation was particularly bad it was often the only thing that gave him comfort.
"I will Ma."
"Remember to take your potions."
"I will."
"Don't you get yourself into any trouble." Piped in Lyall. "Don't think I don't know who's behind all the pranks being pulled at home."
Remus's expression was a cool as ever and he merely smiled at his father, placidly as you please. With a final hug he stepped into the train. Walking down the corridor he was acutely aware of rambunctious shouting and laughing of the kids as they raced past him.
"See ya Snivellus!" Remus could hear a jeering voice call out in front of him.
Suddenly a fiery red-headed girl about his age came out of the compartment in front of him followed by a boy with long black greasy hair. She pushed past Remus barely taking a notice of him as she stormed off. The black haired boy followed after her not even looking at him.
Remus peered into the compartment to see two boys laughing raucously. One had messy dark hair and round glasses that were beginning to slide of his nose. The other he recognised as the boy who had winked at him at Diagon Alley, Sirius Black. The scene frightened him slightly. Was this how other children treated each other? Teasing? Jeering? Name calling? Was this why his parents never allowed him to play with any children?
He walked ahead not wanting to interact with them at all. Frankly not wanting to talk to anyone. He seated himself in empty compartment and took out the book Dumbledore had given him. The Hobbit. Between reading his magical books and getting ready for school he hadn't gotten time to read it. But better late than never.
In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with ...
He had barely started reading when his compartment door slid open to reveal a small stout boy with head of tousled blond curls. He had deep brown eyes and a sweet round face. The boy reminded him a little of Bilbo Baggins. He looked at Remus and quietly asked:
"Can I sit?"
Despite his earlier misgivings about interacting with anyone else, Remus concluded that this boy was sweet and mild mannered. But there was something else, the same ostracism and loneliness that he felt was evident in this boy's stature. Remus nodded.
The stout boy sat down in front of him.
"The name's Peter. Peter Pettigrew."
"Remus Lupin." Replied the eleven year old cordially.
"Are you a third year?" Asked Peter awed.
"No." He replied confidently. "First year."
"Blimey you're tall!"

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{1} The Marauders and the Whomping Willow ✔️
FanfictionRemus Lupin's life is miserable. He was bitten by a werewolf at the age of five causing his lycanthropy and as a result ostracisation from both the wizarding and muggle community, he had never known friendship. But when the famous Albus Dumbledore A...