Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K.Rowling.
Author's Note: This story was written in about fifteen minutes and hasn't been looked over by a beta…please feel free to point out any mistakes or tell me how you liked/disliked the story.
The End of Normal
The five-year-old boy sat in the backyard. He was a normal looking child, with light brown hair with a few hints of red, bright blue eyes, and a cute childlike face. He was facing the woods, and his hands were lowered, playing in the grass: pulling it out, twirling it around, tying it into knots. His face was not tilted towards the ground to watch his hands. It was tilted towards the sky, watching the pale face of the full moon as it cast an eerie glow over the world beneath it.
Most children, when they are very young, have a fascination with the moon. Most people eventually lower their eyes to their world and forget the wonders of the ever changing pale face above them. The boy still loved the moon and still watched it, even at the very grown-up age of five. That was why he had crept out side without his parent's knowledge and was sitting in the grass. He just loved the moon.
As he sat, watching it, he was oblivious to someone watching him. This being also loved the moon. The moon gave him power and freedom. The moon made him dangerous.
The being approached the child from the side, crouching low and making no noise as he crept over the cleanly mowed lawn. He stopped suddenly as a branch snapped under one of his feet. The child, now just out of reach a few yards ahead, turned suddenly towards him.
The boy then saw a sight that would have terrified most adult wizards. What he saw was a large, grey dog with a bony structure. To the child, its eyes seemed sad, as if it were in pain. What any adult or teen wizard would have seen was a monster, one with sharp claws, viciously pointed teeth, and amber eyes that gleamed with malicious intent. The boy simply looked at the animal in front of him without the slightest touch of fear.
As the boy looked at him, the werewolf's lips curled upward and he snarled viciously. The boy's curious expression immediately changed to that of fright. He scrambled to his feet and took a deep breath, about to scream.
As the boy released an earsplitting shout for his parents, the werewolf made his move.
He lunged at the boy, his deadly claws out in front of him. His right paw came in contact with the boy's face, creating two deep gashes diagonally across it. The boy fell backward, putting an arm in front of his bloody face to protect it from further harm. The werewolf saw his opportunity and lunged at the boy's extended forearm, feeling his teeth sink deep into the unprotected flesh, feeling the bone crack under his powerful jaws. The boy screamed again, wordlessly this time.
The door to the house burst open and a red jet of light hit the werewolf. It released the boy and turned, snarling, only to be hit by another jet of light. The small boy wasn't worth the fight. There was barely any meat on him, the scrawny little thing.
The werewolf raised its head, howling its defeat to its white mistress in the heavens above, then turned and fled into the forest.
Remus Lupin's life was changed forever that day when he was bitten by Fenrir Greyback. From then, the five-year-old had exactly twenty-nine days until he would be painfully forced into adulthood.
Thirty-one years later, Remus Lupin still watched the moon, though the human part of him only saw it full for a few brief seconds.