The Marauders: Year 1

Bitten

Remus snapped his eyes open. He was surrounded by cloth, an unfamiliar one. He had just remembered that his father had decided to take a small trip. He had probably fallen asleep on the drive to the hotel he was in now. He sat up for a moment taking in the surroundings. His father was to the right of him, his mother on the left. It was probably because of all the blankets surrounding him, but his body did feel a little hot. He decided to slow climb out, careful not to wake up his parents.

Once he managed to maneuver himself out of the nest of blankets, he had no idea what to do. He didn't know what time it was and it was too dark to read the one book he had brought. Turning on any lights would probably disturb his parents. Instead, he went to the small window, the only source of light for the room. There was a small beaten up armchair close to the window and he decided to take a seat. He had been sleeping for several hours and didn't feel that tired any longer. Sitting in this chair was the only thing he could really do right now. He looked out the window after pushing the thin curtain aside. The bright moon and the twinkling stars had greeted his face. He started looking at the stars on this unusually clear night and tried his best to remember the constellations that his father had once taught him. There were so many stars in the sky, to little Remus Lupin they just looked like a bunch of jumbled dots. Frustrated, he shut the curtain once again.

But then a dark shadow replaced the light shining through. Remus eyes widened. Before he could even make a sound, the glass had shattered.

The glass had pierced the young Lupin's skin and then he was able to scream. Both of his parents had quickly sat up upon hearing their son. Realizing that he was not in the bed next to them, they turned to their right and saw what happened. Their son was on the floor, on his back, covered in shards of glass. And Fenrir Greyback was on top of him.

"NO, STOP! STOP!" Lyall had screamed. He grabbed his wand on the bedside table and uttered a myriad of spells. Anything he could do. However, Greyback was quicker. He had already done what he needed to do.

The stun spells had little to no effect. He had gotten up brushing any leftover glass off of him.

"See Lupin, now your precious little son is going to be just like me. A monster, right? A loathsome creature? Whatever you called me, now he is the same." The man had gotten up and climbed back through the window.

Lyall wanted to run after him, to catch and throw him in jail, in Azkaban where he would rot forever. But he looked at his son who was no longer screaming or thrashing around. He was limp, unconscious on the floor. Lyall had bent over him sobbing. Hope, who was on the other side of bed rushed over.

"Lyall, Lyall, tell me what happened. What did that man do to Remus?" she choked.

"We have to get to the hospital, quick."

"Should I call the police?"

"No, Hope, not the Muggle one. We can't take him to the Muggle hospital. We need to take him to St. Mungos, the wizarding one." He scooped up his son and stared at all the wounds on his body. The glass had pierced his skin everywhere: his legs, his arms, his face. But worst of all, there were new scratches on his face and a large wound on his neck: A bite mark.

Lyall had quickly repaired the glass window and they gathered their belongings to leave the hotel room.

At St. Mungos, the still unconscious Remus was sent to the Creature Induced Injuries floor. Nurses had pushed his parents back and urged them to stay behind while they worked on the injured boy.

But, nothing could work. The injuries sustained by the broken glass, of course, could easily be healed with a couple potions and spells. But the large wound on his neck and the scratch on his cheek would remain there for as long as Remus lived. These types of scratches could not disappear with magic, any type of magic, all of the nurses had told the Lupins.

The nurses had neglected to mention what else Remus would have to deal with for the rest of his life. Lyall had already known it. His five year old son was infected with lycanthropy or werewolfism.

It's all my fault. It's all my fault. It's all fault.

Lyall knew that it was because he had said certain words to that werewolf, Fenrir Greyback, that Remus would now suffer. His son would have to suffer for his own actions. There was no cure, no potion, no spell, absolutely nothing that would stop Remus from transforming once a month, into a werewolf.