For everyone who helped keep me somewhat saner than I might have been otherwise, through the past three or four months.
I should like to remind about my version of the way Remus' lycanthropy works. I've based him partly on the werewolves in Terry Pratchett's Discworld series, and improvised the rest. In general Remus has very developed reflexes and is somewhat stronger than he looks. He also heals quickly and the only things that can really incapacitate him are wolfsbane and silver, but
that isn't particularly important here.Finished 10/11/2002
Welcome to the First Day of the Rest of Your Life
Professor Dumbledore let out a soft sigh. "Remus Lupin, you are indeed allowed to look up when you speak to me."
Remus raised his chin. "Yes, sir."
Dumbledore leaned back in his seat. Remus felt as though he was being sized up and had been found somehow inadequate. He'd seen Professor McGonagall's expression when she had come to take him to Dumbledore's office and realised that her charge was a rather slender boy, reserved to the point of shyness.
You'd have thought she was expecting a full-grown wolf.
"I hope you've been doing well?"
"Yes, sir."
"No difficulties?"
"No, sir."
Another sigh. "Remus, you are not currently in any trouble. However, if you don't stop that 'yes, sir; no, sir' talk I shall consign you to detention."
"Yes – " Remus allowed a faint smile, " – sir."
He saw the headmaster's lips twitch in amusement, but detention was not mentioned. "You get along with the rest of the Gryffindors?"
"Oh, yes, sir." Remus' half-smile widened. Professor McGonagall had summoned him straight from the dormitory in the morning. Peter wide-eyed in sheer panic, James and Sirius in surprise and disbelief. And some admiration, oddly enough – I suppose they thought I must have done something pretty interesting to get the Headmaster involved. "The Gryffindors get along with everyone, sir. Except possibly the Slytherins."
"Yes, I know. It's a time-hallowed tradition." Dumbledore's tone was wry. "Still, I had rather hoped that you would have been Sorted into a somewhat… quieter house."
"The alternative that the Hat gave me was Slytherin, sir. I don't think I would have fared better there."
"No. No, I doubt it." Professor Dumbledore appeared to mull over this for a moment. "In retrospect, it's probably best that things turned out the way they did. You do realise that a lot of people are paying attention to you?"
"Yes, sir. The professors. You. The Ministry. The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures." Remus said it with a carefully blank expression. Dumbledore stared at him, and he shrugged. Werewolves weren't allowed to live past adolescence. Young werewolves weren't much different from real wolves, but by ten they acquired the shrewdness that belonged to the human and the size that belonged only to the werewolf.
"I'm… surprised you know about that."
"I'm grateful for the chance, sir. And I… think I understand what will happen if it doesn't work out."
They'll kill me.
"Save us all from precocious children. This is no talk for a first-year." Dumbledore shook his head and changed the subject. "Your teachers have reported that you're something of a loner."
Remus raised his eyebrows. Oh? "It's not allowed, sir?"
"Normalcy would be recommended," Dumbledore said drily. He steepled his fingers and looked over his glasses at Remus. "You do understand, don't you? A lot of the things you'll be asked to do will be tests. Your professors will be trying to get a definite idea of what you're like. As will I, and the Ministry."
Remus blinked. "And if I fail them?"
Professor Dumbledore shrugged. "It's best that you succeed."
"Sir… this is considered talk for a first-year?"
Dumbledore smiled. "It isn't, but you're a precocious student. I believe you have Defense Against the Dark Arts now?"
"Yes, sir."
"Professor Azazel is an exacting man. I should try not to be late, if I were you. If you run fast enough you might make it on time."
Remus stepped back. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
He ran.
"Normalcy would be recommended…" Of course everything has strings attached. What was I expecting?
Everything's a test. That conversation with Professor Dumbledore was a test. This is a test. The whole of my being in Hogwarts is a test.
And, if I understood correctly, Professor Azazel is another test. Defense Against the Dark Arts. That would be an advisable subject to excel in, of course…
It's best that I succeed? What if I don't?
Remus skidded to a stop outside the classroom and gasped for breath, pushing his hair out of his face before he opened the door. He wasn't late; the room wasn't half full yet. Professor Azazel glanced up from where he'd been marking papers at the desk. "Ah. Lupin. I don't believe we've met?"
Remus breathed deeply and smiled. "No… Professor Azazel."
For the third time that day he had the sensation of being examined. He tried to imagine what the man was thinking. A little boy, far too pale and thin for his own good. Hardly werewolf material.
Still…
When the professor finally spoke, his voice was light. "Do come in, Lupin. Would you be so kind as to take a book from the cupboard for me?"
Azazel had a face like a hawk and an equally predatory smile. Remus smiled back anyway. "Yes, sir." He touched the handle of the cupboard. All right. What could happen?
He pictured the smile on Azazel's face again and shivered mentally. Anything could.
Remus opened the cupboard.
He was aware of someone screaming – not me, thank goodness – before memory streamed away and there was nothing but the present.
Which contained a great grey wolf at least his own height, matching his gaze with amber eyes flickering every now and then with sheer madness.
I should never have gone out, not so late – and now I'm lost, I can't get home, I –
I'm going to die.
Remus stepped back, very slowly. His first instinct was to cry, but that was foolish. The second was to turn and run, but he couldn't bring himself to tear his gaze away.
Remus continued backing away, waiting for the lunge. Then he hit his hip on something, and reached out to steady himself. Professor Azazel's desk. For a moment his mind reeled, and then his gaze focused onto both worlds at once. Behind the dark shadows was the classroom, and behind the wolf – werewolf, he realised – was the book cupboard.
This is a memory. It's happened before, but –
Something else, a five-year-old self, was screaming in his head in frightened panic. Remus blinked and shook his head, reaching up with one hand to touch his right shoulder. He could feel the scars. But –
At the same time there was nothing, and his skin was smooth beneath the fabric of his robes.
What –
"Fool."
And somebody stepped in front of him and picked up the wolf by the scruff of its neck.
Remus' vision blurred suddenly, and he heard himself cry out. Then he blinked and found himself watching someone standing in front of him. "Professor? Would you like to keep this Boggart?"
Severus Snape?
"Back in the cupboard, Snape. Well done. Ten points to Slytherin." The professor glanced down at Remus. Remus stared back. He was sitting on the floor next to the desk, although he didn't know how he'd got there. "As for you… twenty points from Gryffindor. For cowardice."
The words hardly made any sense, although Remus could hear the uproar that followed, and instinctively cringed from it. There was sweat drying on his face, and he felt suddenly cold.
Snape tilted his head at him and then held out one hand, not unkindly. "Get up." Remus took it. Snape glanced back across the classroom. "Damn."
Remus followed his gaze. What was left of the panic was leaving him rapidly, although he was still having some trouble breathing normally. "Oh." The class was complete now. They'd left two seats at the back for Snape and Remus.
Next to each other.
Snape's expression was impossible to read as they walked down the rows of desks. "Sorry," Remus muttered, still in slight confusion.
"Shut up."
"Now. If you've all settled down." Professor Azazel was smiling again. "That was a Boggart. It's usually found in enclosed spaces, and on discovery turns into the thing you fear most."
Snape glanced at Remus, and saw that he was blushing. No, he didn't know about that. Not exactly cowardice, then. Ignorance.
"Boggarts aren't covered in your syllabus until late second year, but I doubt most Death Eaters will care whether or not things are in your syllabus."
Snape sighed mentally. Ah. One of the paranoid ones. Azazel was in charge of his house. There wasn't a thing he could find to say against the man, but he didn't like him on instinct.
"You'll find that Defense against the Dark Arts isn't so much a subject as a combination of everything – there's a lot of Transfiguration and Charms involved, a little of Potions, so on and so forth. A lot of practical skills, and a certain amount of natural talent.
"I will not be teaching you what to do. I'll be teaching you how to think."
Hark at that. How very inspirational.
"Today we'll mostly cover diagnostics, and an outline of what we'll be doing for the rest of the year." Azazel's smile broadened. "Tell me. How would you stop a dragon?"
Snape listened to the class mutter about the impossibility of the situation. "What type of dragon, sir?" That was James Potter, from the other side of the classroom.
"Any. One of the large ones. Terrain: open space. You versus a dragon. How would you take it down?"
One corner of Snape's mouth lifted in a faint smile. "Does it have to be alive, sir?"
"For preference." Azazel gave him a sharp glance, then turned to the rest of the class. "Well? Black?"
Sirius blinked, startled. "Stunning spell, sir?"
"How arrogant. I don't suppose it's occurred to you that it takes at least five handlers to Stun a dragon." Professor Azazel turned, evidently finding nothing more of interest in Sirius. "Tarsier?"
Snape watched the boy visibly panic. You call that a Slytherin? "Binding spell, sir."
"While it flames at you."
"Er…"
"What would you like to bind first, Tarsier?" Azazel asked, pleasantly. "The beak? Claws? Tail?"
"Beak, sir?"
Fool.
"And leave its claws free. How fast are you, Tarsier? How fast is it?" Another turn, and another pleasant smile. "Lupin."
Snape turned to watch him think. The boy had recovered himself completely by now. Remus glanced up at Azazel without blinking. "Aquatis, sir. Aimed at the nose and mouth to quench the fire. Binding spells to the claws, then the beak, and finally the tail."
Oh? Not bad, but we'll see…
Snape smiled, preparing to watch Azazel take this one apart.
"And you are fast enough?"
Remus smiled. He was still perfectly composed. "No creature likes having water in its nose, sir. And there will always be the first split second of confusion before it figures out where and who to lash out at. And how. A dragon's favoured weapon is not usually its tail."
"Feasible. But it requires phenomenal reflexes. My question remains. Are you fast enough, Remus Lupin?"
Remus paused. "Yes, sir," he finally said.
Professor Azazel turned abruptly. "Very well. Ten points to Gryffindor. Pettigrew."
Snape raised an eyebrow at Remus, who shrugged. Meanwhile, Peter was stammering, "I… don't know, sir."
"Ah. Pettigrew chooses to be a small pile of charcoal. Any other takers?" Silence. "Snape."
"Petrificus, sir."
"Oh?" Professor Azazel raised his eyebrows at him. "You think you could do it? Perfectly timed? On a dragon?"
"Yes, sir. A timed spell of not more than a minute." Snape said simply. It wasn't bravado. He knew he could.
"Such arrogance. Show me."
Snape glanced around the classroom. Everyone was watching them. "I see no dragon, sir."
"Show me," Professor Azazel repeated. Snape saw the faint shimmering in the air first, and gripped the handle of his wand.
A burst of air sent his hair streaming. He glanced up at the dragon and pointed his wand while half the class shrieked. "Ten seconds. Petrificus."
The dragon stopped in mid-rear. Snape heard Remus count in the expanding silence. "One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine."
Snape's half-smile became a smirk. "Ten."
The dragon shook its head. And then Professor Azazel was brushing his robes nonchalantly. "Very good. Ten points to Slytherin. Any other ideas?"
Snape watched him go through most of the class like a hot knife through butter for the next fifteen minutes, half-amused and half-contemptuous. Eventually Azazel stopped at the head of the class. "Tell me. Is this seating arrangement finalised?"
He was looking directly at Snape and Remus. The rest of the class was a chorus of 'yes's. "Snape? Lupin?"
Remus glanced at Snape. Snape shrugged. Considering the rest of the Slytherins, I doubt this could be a worse fate. "It would be interesting, sir."
"Interesting indeed. Lupin?"
Remus shrugged as well. "Fine."
"Then I would be much obliged if neither of you tried to murder each other in my class. I'm quite attached to this classroom." Professor Azazel regarded the class critically. "Now. I can see that we're going to have to do a great deal of work together. Let's get started on it."
"Did you hear what that Snape boy did?"
"Petrified Azazel! And the man's a terror!"
"Yeah, exactly. I mean, a Boggart on a first-year on the first lesson?"
"And then deduct points from Gryffindor for cowardice!"
"Rescued by a Slytherin… still, Gryffindor's needed a good embarrassment like that for years…"
Remus' face went red as he walked between the tables, Peter at his side. "It's all over the school now. I've really gone and done it this time, haven't I?"
Peter smiled. "I think it'll be all right. I mean, half the gossip is about what a jerk Azazel is anyway."
"Yes, but the rest – "
"I shouldn't worry about it if I were you, Remus," Peter said earnestly. "Honest."
Remus smiled, uneasily. All very reasonable, I guess.
Except for the fact that no one's spoken to me since Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Peter stopped. "Oh."
Remus stared. Two seats left on either end of the table, and one of them was next to Sirius Black. He kept his voice soft. "Well. Do you want to risk Sirius, or shall I?"
Sirius, whose strong point had never been patience or tolerance, had taken Azazel's trite dismissal rather badly. It didn't help that various Slytherins had been repeating it at him for most of the day. And, after Snape had passed the Gryffindor table and treated Sirius to a clearly deliberate smirk, Sirius was obviously waiting for one last fuse to blow and looking for a target. Remus smiled without much humour. "No, you don't deserve it, Peter. Sit down."
"Couldn't – er – "
"No." Remus patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. "Don't worry about me."
On the bright side, I don't suppose anyone could realistically call me a coward after this. Remus stopped behind the empty chair and paused. James, on the opposite side of the table, glanced up slightly nervously. "Oh, hello, Remus."
Remus nodded. Sirius didn't even look at him. When he eventually spoke, almost absently, it was to the world at large. "Well, look who's here."
It's been a long day. Remus clenched his jaw. Normalcy would be recommended, of course. "I'm sorry."
He was surprised to realise that he meant it.
Sirius glanced at James, who gave Remus a pained look. "My. Did someone say something?"
Remus' fingers tightened around the top of the chair.
"Oh, and someone's casting a shadow." Sirius turned. "Tell me, have you realised that you've just put us behind Slytherin?"
Hurt pride. So it's come to that. "Is that why I'm in coventry, then?" Remus glanced across the table. The rest of the house seemed to be in a state of advanced plate-study.
"Points taken for cowardice. You do realise what house you're in?"
"I earned half of them back." Which is more than you could do.
"Oh? So you can take on a dragon, but not a wolf?"
Remus opened his mouth and closed it again without saying anything. I was five. What was I supposed to do? But that would only invite more contempt. He could predict Sirius' next comment: and you're still afraid?
What's more, he's right.
"Well, we certainly know you're no good on the practical."
Remus stared at Sirius' expression, anger mixed with disgust. I thought I'd left that behind. "I… see." He looked around for support, and found none. "So I'm an embarrassment to the house. You all think that?"
No response.
Remus stepped back, face red, and then turned and walked out of the Great Hall. So much for normalcy. He drew his sleeve roughly across his face, and realised that he was crying. It's been a long day, and I've had to watch where I'm going, every single step of the way.
Everything's a test. Everyone's just watching to see how I'm going to react. Some kind of experimental setup.
It's only been a week and I'm sick of it already. First week of the rest of my life.
Remus glared out at the lake, then picked up a pebble. For a moment he turned it absently between his fingers, and then he flicked it across the surface of the water, watching it skip.
"Idiot." Remus jerked around, just as somebody grabbed him round the waist and flung him onto the grass. Something else whizzed by frighteningly close to his ear.
When he opened his eyes he was staring up into Snape's face. "Do you mind," he gasped, "getting off me?"
"Gladly." Snape brushed off his robes as Remus sat up. "Look, you don't throw stones into the lake. The giant squid doesn't like it." He extended his hand. "Oh, get up."
"Thanks." He stared down at the pebble. It was quite dry; the squid must have flicked it out before it'd even begun to sink. "Severus?"
"Yes?"
Remus picked up the pebble thoughtfully, tossing it up and catching it again lightly. "I'd suggest you get out of the way."
"What – "
Remus threw the pebble into the lake.
"You absolute – "
"I said get out!" Remus caught the stone on its return flight and threw it out again.
Damn it all. At least this is one thing that I can do. He was fast enough, he knew that much. All those years ago, he had turned and run, only of course there was no way he could have outrun a wolf.
The pebble smacked back into his palm. Remus drew his arm back and threw yet again. Snape was no longer standing next to him.
He still had the scars, from shoulder to spine. It wasn't a choice of whether I'd die or not, it was a matter of when and how. But of course I didn't know that then –
It hadn't been so much a bite as a chunk of flesh ripped from below his ribs. The wolf had been aiming to kill. He'd had nightmares for years after the event, long after he'd realised that nothing, wolf or werewolf, could harm him now. A slow death watching something eat you inside-out. Is it surprising that it made an impression?
And now he was fast enough, if only because of the lycanthropy.
"I'm… surprised you know about that."
Are you? I nearly died when I was five. That sort of thing changes people a little. Is it surprising that I should wonder if I'm supposed to have a future?
Is it surprising that I should be bitter, if I realise that I don't?
It's going to be tests and more tests, arrangements and more arrangements, for the rest of my life. Is it surprising that I should be a loner, if people keep looking at me as though I'm some kind of insect?
The anger was clouding his reflexes. He kept on throwing anyway, and he was expecting it when he finally missed. The pebble glanced across his brow with a stinging pain. Remus kicked it across the edge of the lake and watched it finally sink.
What a joke.
Something was trickling down his temple. Remus brushed at it with one hand and saw that his fingers came away stained with blood.
He turned, and saw Snape sitting on the grass some distance away, watching him. "You're still here."
Snape didn't move. "You're bleeding," he observed.
"Yes, I noticed. It's just a scratch."
"That must have been the most singularly pointless thing I've ever seen you do."
Remus turned to glare at the lake. He didn't feel as though he could look the other boy in the face. "Go away. I'm not in the mood to play your verbal games."
"Nor are you in any condition to."
Snape continued before Remus could snap a reply, "I'm not playing at anything, Lupin." He stepped just behind Remus. "I suppose the Gryffindors declared you official pariah?"
"Oh, yes." Remus laughed, shortly, and was surprised to hear the vicious bitterness in his own voice. Behind him Snape said nothing. Remus knew that he could, and in most circumstances would, have produced some kind of remark about him and his house, and he was grateful for the silence. "What are you doing here? I'd have thought you'd be some kind of hero."
"The Slytherins are lost in admiration, if that's what you mean. Everyone else is screaming 'Death Eater'. Not that I object, but I like to be able to eat in peace."
Remus laughed again.
"I saw what Black did to you. I'm surprised that you care so much about what the Gryffindors think of you," Snape said lightly.
Remus stared out at the lake. The sky was darkening. "Have I disappointed you?"
"You were a disappointment from the beginning, Lupin."
Remus turned. "I'm telling you, Severus, I'm sick of people trying to judge me. You included."
Snape's lips were twisted into a mirthless half-smile. "Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life."
"What do you know about it?"
Snape glanced out towards the lake. "I know that you're one of Dumbledore's golden Gryffindors. Along with some of the most annoyingly juvenile people in the school."
" 'If you prick me, do I not bleed?' Is that where we're getting to now?"
"I'm wondering what you have to complain about."
"More than you can imagine." Remus shrugged.
Snape paused, then removed a handkerchief from one pocket. "Take it."
Remus looked at it blankly. "What?"
"You're still bleeding, in case you've forgotten."
"Oh." Remus hesitated.
Snape was smirking. "Contrary to popular opinion, I do not keep evil spirit familiars in my handkerchief."
Remus smiled and accepted the handkerchief. "Never crossed my mind. Thank you." He wiped the blood from his cheek and hand. "Why are you doing this for me?"
Snape looked away. "Well, if anything happened to you, I'd be stuck with a class full of idiots."
"I thought I was one too."
"Don't flatter yourself into thinking that you're not. It's a matter of comparative non-appeal."
"That is, you hate me less than the others, and I haven't done anything to incur your wrath just yet," Remus said drily. "I am flattered."
Snape shrugged. "I should hate to leave you with anything less than the truth."
"Yes, I know." Remus dabbed at his brow and stared at the amount of blood on the handkerchief. "I must look a sight."
"Oh, you do."
"I'm going back to clean up. Thanks." Remus smiled and turned to walk back to the castle. Odd that the one person I've been comfortable with today is the Slytherin whose main purpose for keeping me alive is so that he has someone to laugh at and say nasty things about.
You cheat death twice, but you can't get along with your housemates. Tell Severus Snape that and he'll collapse laughing.
No one can blame you for a mistake you make the first time round. You live with the consequences, and either there's a second chance or there isn't. But make it twice, and it'll be because you're not fast enough.
I wasn't then. But I am now.
Remus tilted his head at the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Any blood on my face, ma'am?"
"Can't see any, my boy."
"Thanks. Potato peelings." The portrait swung open. Remus climbed through.
Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life, Remus Lupin.
I plead innocent to maligning Sirius. He's a boy and eleven years old and very confident, and that's never a good combination. He doesn't actually understand what happened during that DaDA session, but he thinks he does. Sirius interprets Remus' actions as weakness, which automatically makes him contemptuous.
I also plead innocent to making Severus Snape too nice. He's rather more decent here than is usual, but I think the Marauders' extended torture over the years brought out most of the bitterness. It's not in him to say, for example, that Azazel was an evil jerk and Remus didn't deserve points off, but it's just possible that he might offer Remus a hand up so that they can all get on with the lesson.
However, I do plead guilty to reading far too much of Terry Pratchett's City Watch series (for, oh, the fourth or fifth time over?) in one sitting. You could probably have replaced Remus' and Dumbledore's names in the opening conversation with Vimes' and Vetinari's and it'd still have fit.
End
Notes: