the letter and the dream
Remus woke up on the floor. It was cold, but his sister had provided a pillow which made up for some of the discomfort.
Remus could feel the pressure marks on his arms and back, indents left from sleeping in a awful position on an uneven surface.
No doubt the door had been unlocked by now, as Remus could see the sun shining in the small basement. He had never had a time when he woke up and was unable to get out, other than when he was under the care of his father, which was becoming precedingly more rare these days.
Remus could feel two cuts on his shoulder, less than the last time, which was a relief. They were still rather raw, but had stopped bleeding over night. There was dirt on his face, he could taste the salt rich soil, and smell the petrichor outside. It had stormed last night.
He thought the wolf might have liked that, for some reason he woke up with less problems when it had been storming.
Remus stood up, putting on boxers, and wrapping a blanket around his shoulders. It was cold down here. And the concrete under him had rocks and things on it.
it hurt his feet.
He made his way up the creaking stairs, pushing open the door to the kitchen.
He found bacon and eggs on a plate with toast, and a note from his sister.
He sat down at the bar, his feet dangling above the ground.
He hadn’t bothered cleaning his face, so he could still taste the dirt as he shoved food in his mouth.
‘hey Rem, sorry I couldn’t wake you up, I had to take an early shift. Check the mail and put antiseptic on your cuts, I’ll be back before five, have a nice day’
Remus would have liked to see his sister, and have her fix his wounds, but all in all he didn’t mind. It was summer, he had nothing to do, and could just watch tv all day, or bike to Gideons and play jacks or something.
He was a bit sore, but some Panadol would easily fix that, then he was free.. after chores.
After he had scarfed down the rest of his breakfast, he went to his room.
The house that he and his sister lived in was too big for them. It was three bedrooms and three floors including the basement. After his mother had passed, his father had fucked off to America and left Conan and him to the house.
Luckily the mortgage was paid, so Conan didn’t have to worry about that. But it was a struggle to keep the place clean. Lots of the rooms had been abandoned years ago, because it was unreasonable to ask a sixteen year old to manage a 7 year old and a bunch of extra space.
Now that Remus was eleven he helped more, and Conan was out of school, so she had marginally more free time, but the office, attic, and third bedroom-bathroom, had been neglected for so long that they weren’t spoken of.
Remus had the master bedroom. The third bedroom had once been his, but going in there scared him. Not that he would admit that now. But that was where he had been bitten, and where his mother had died. He hated that room.
Conan preferred to stay in the room she had originally, so Remus was given the gift of space.
With help from his sister, the room was pretty nice, it had been painted a light blue, there was a bunk bed, dresser, and everything one would need, other than a lamp on his desk, but that was not essential to survival.
Remus didn’t have a while lot of toys, except the ones he had had from before the incident. But he had a small collection of comics, two action figures that he treasured beyond any real reason, and a few other implements of entertainment.
He got dressed, and finally washed his face. He didn’t bother with the antiseptic, there was no point, he healed fast anyway. And the larger cut had already scabbed over.
He did check the mail though, his father sent him postcards often, and Remus expected money to be attached to the one he would get this time around. It was almost Conan’s birthday, and his father was not completely indifferent to his daughter.
“damn,” Remus muttered, the mail box was rather full, a few letters spilling out. He had been neglecting his duty because the full moon had been coming up, but he didn’t expect something like this.
He carded through the letters as he walked back inside. A couple bills, the newspaper from last week, coupons for a hot tub, and aha, something addressed to him.
It was rather fancier than what his father usually did, but then again, the man was eccentric, maybe he had come apon a wax seal thing, and used it for him.
Just as Remus had expected, the letter was thick, a bit heavy. Maybe its American money, he thought, ripping open the seal.
perhaps it was disrespectful to ruin the pretty wax design, but Remus couldn’t say he cared. He wanted to buy a fizzy drink, and start looking for something for his sister.
Remus was disappointed by the contents. It was three pieces of paper and a small pouch. Not a cool post card and fifteen pounds.
But it was addressed to him, so he dutifully read it.
“YOURE HAULING ME OFF TO BLEEDING BOARDING SCHOOL?” was the first thing that Remus said to his sister when she got home. He was standing in the living room, outraged at the prospect of his sister trying to get rid of him.
“What?” Conan set down her bag and her keys on the table, “rem, what are you talking about, I couldn’t afford-”
“Then what's this?” Remus threw the letter and all its contents on the coffee table, “Hogwarts? Scottland?” he crossed his arms. He acknowledged that he was probably being over-reactionary, but he couldn’t scrounge a shit to give.
Boarding school? For him. It was stupid, what would happen on full moons? Hed probably have to lock himself in the bathroom and pray that his dorm mates didn’t want to shower. It was idiotic, stupid. A moron’s idea of a good plan. It could only end horribly.
“oh..” Conan froze, “you- you got a letter?!” she seemed… surprised, and happy, very happy. “Remus this is wonderful- wonderful news- oh we’ll have to go to Diagon, I haven’t been in so long…” she beamed, “I’ll be allowed back, lovely news, lovely news. Oh, and ollivanders- and I’ll take you to Florean’s, I think I’ll still get the auror discount because of dad-”
As she started rambling, Remus uncrossed his arms. He had anticipated a whole argument about not going to whatever boarding school, most likely one for behaviorally challenged, this ‘Hogwarts’ was. But she hadn’t even gotten mad at him for cussing.
Conan seemed to realize she was rambling. She looked at Remus. “aren’t you exited?”
“Why would I be excited?” Remus snapped, “I hate school in general, why would I want to live at one-”
“What-” Conan stopped herself. “Oh, you don’t remember, do you?”
“Remember what?” Remus muttered, scuffing his feet.
“dad was- dad- he- god I’m going to sound insane.” she sat down “dad did magic,” she stated this as though it was fact.
“Like, close up tricks? Yeah, I remember that. He used to make those weird coins float. But that was just a magnet-” Remus rolled his eyes.
“No- no he did real magic-” Conan shook her head. “He was a wizard, and its genetic, but me and him thought that- because I’m..”
“If its ‘genetic’, why can’t you do it?” Remus scoffed, “magic doesn’t exist.”
“You turn into a wolf once a month,” Conan pointed out.
“that’s different. that’s God, obviously. It’s a curse or something. That’s what dad says-” Remus crossed his arms again.
“No- its- well, yeah, I guess- but-” Conan tapped her fingers on the couch. “we’ll go somewhere tomorrow, I’ll show you.”
Remus couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Magic, she was acting as if he was a child who didn’t know how the world works.
“Sure,” Remus snickered, “show me.”
Conan stood up, and went to the kitchen, starting to make dinner. “help with dinner,” she called back at Remus.
Remus followed her into the kitchen, “what do you want me to do?” he asked, jumping up onto the counter to sit. He hated being short. He was assured by the fact that his father was a beast, at 193 centimeters.
Though he still held reasonable fear, as his sister was quite shorter.
“Get off there, and cut the carrots.” Conan scowled at Remus, “do two.”
Remus nodded, slipping off the counter and going to the fridge, getting the desired carrots and one more.
Sitting at the dinner table, Remus was still quite annoyed by the insinuation that he believed in magic. Magic of all things. It was insulting. He was not some stupid child in year one. He was plenty smart, in the things that mattered really.
But he didn’t say anything, just made a nasty face at his soup as he ate it. It was delicious, and that upset him. Why did everything Conan do make him so irritated? It was annoying.
He hated being angry, but he seemed to always be so. And that only made it worse. An inescapable loop, like if something went bad in planet of the apes.
“Go get the salt, will you?” Conan requested from the other side of the table.
Remus complied, but he was agitated, setting the shaker on the table too hard. Conan noticed, but chose not to comment. He was always a bit jerky after the full moon. He had recently gotten his body back, it was understandable.
“Thank you, rem.” Conan smiled at him.
That did calm Remus down a little bit. He didn’t know why. Conan’s smile wasn’t pretty. Too much gums, her eyes got squinty and her nose did too. Like a pig or a bat. He liked bats, but their noses were not attractive on a person.
He supposed she looked like mom, that might have been why, but Remus didn’t remember Hope, he only knew that Conan looked like mom because she had a little picture of her on her nightstand.
After dinner, Remus trudged to his room, having been told that he needed to get up early the next morning to go somewhere.
He didn’t want to wake up period, he was sore, his shoulder hurt, he was tired, and he could feel that one of the muscles in his leg had formed back wrong.
One leg was doing most all of the heavy lifting getting him up to his bunk. The other struggled to flex foot.
He laid on his bed, looking at the ceiling, behind his eyes hurt, looking around hurt, his leg really hurt. He didn’t want to sleep, he had some summer reading that he was so close to being done with, he just had a chapter left, then he was completely don’t with all his summer homework, he would have a week left of summer to do absolutely nothing.
But alas, his eyes were heavy, and his bones turned led. He drifted off into painful sleep.
The eyes of the beast looked him up and down. It was hunched over a stream.
The cold air turning its breath into crystals as it huffed.
Remus backed away, ducking under the brush.
it was hungry, it was in pain. It was angry.
The steps of the beast rustled the grass, its front claws touched the ground in front of him.
Remus ran then, turning around.
His leg, god his leg, he was going to fall, it was going to get him-
Teeth, claws, pain, twigs, rocks, skin, fur, bite, scratch, run.
Then he woke up. To his alarm clock. He grabbed it and threw it at the wall. Those eyes were yellow, shot and bloodthirsty. Dangerous. That was him. Dangerous.