Born to Run

September 29^th, 1971

Remus struggled to pay attention in Transfiguration, as he had in all the other classes that day. Whenever the full moon would be approaching, Remus would start feeling the familiar unease settle deep in his bones. Restlessness and fatigue were weighing down on him, and each passing day heightened his senses—sounds sharper, scents more potent—forcing him to confront the reality of what lay ahead.

Today was his first full moon at Hogwarts. From the moment he got out of bed, he could feel his limbs go stiff and he was entirely exhausted as his body was already preparing him for his transformation later that night.

“That will be all for today,” Professor McGonagall said suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. The students started gathering their belongings and headed towards the exit.

“Mr Lupin, a word please,” she called. Remus swallowed nervously, his throat visibly tightening as he approached her desk. Professor glanced over at James, Sirius, and Peter. “If you’ll excuse us for a minute, I need to speak with Mr Lupin alone.”

The boys looked at each other curiously but still exited the classroom. Professor McGonagall approached Remus’ side, with her hands loosely clasped behind her back.

“How are you feeling?”

Remus sighed. “All right, I guess.”

“You don’t have to pretend here, Mr Lupin. There is nothing wrong with feeling nervous or afraid.”

“I just want the night to pass.”

She smiled faintly. “It will, before you even notice. I promise. And that brings us to what I intended to tell you in the first place. Meet me later at Professor Dumbledore’s office. We will explain everything about the procedure we will be following during every full moon.”

Remus’ eyes widened. “You’ll be with me during the full moon?”

“Oh, but of course, boy. You thought we would let you go through this alone?” Remus lowered his head. Professor McGonagall placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Everything is going to be just fine. You’ll see. Meet us later at the Headmaster’s Tower after the classes are over. Don’t be late.”

Remus nodded and left to find the others waiting for him, outside the classroom.

“What was that about?” Sirius asked.

Remus shrugged. “She’s organising some special research projects in the library and asked if I could help categorise some new books.”

“Sounds boring,” said Peter.

James smiled knowingly. “Not for Remus. He’s practically married to the library.”

Remus cleared his throat. “Anyway, we should head to the next class.”

“Or we shouldn’t,” Sirius suggested and Remus shot him a warning look. “Oh, c’mon, it’s History of Magic. Binns won’t even notice our absence. He’s too focused on listening to himself ramble for two hours straight.”

“We can’t skip class,” Remus said flatly. “It’s mandatory. And I’m not in the mood for detention right now. So, move.”

“Ah, fine,” Sirius groaned.

They headed for the class on the ground floor. Professor Cuthbert Binns had been responsible for the courses for over a century. He had been teaching History of Magic back in the 19th century, but one day, he fell asleep in the staff room and died in slumber due to his old age. He had been teaching at Hogwarts as a ghost ever since.

His lectures were entirely uninspiring, to say the least. Usually, students would listen to him rant about insignificant historical facts until they fell asleep. Sometimes, even Binns would fall asleep mid-sentence. Sirius secretly wished they had Herbology; he was that desperate at that moment. He unwillingly followed the others as they made their way towards their seats.

“Good evening, students,” Binns greeted the class in his usual flat tone. “Today we will discuss Emeric the Evil and if time permits before class is over, I will also touch on the Goblin uprisings.”

Everyone sighed. Binns started talking about Emeric the Evil and his monotonous voice droned on, putting half the class to sleep. After a while, Remus also started to feel his eyelids grow heavy. His anxiety about the full moon was wearing him off and he found himself fighting a losing battle against his exhaustion. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to find a position that would keep him awake. The cuckoo clock on the wall ticked slowly, each second echoing in the room. The warm, dim-lit classroom was the perfect place for sleepiness to take hold. So, despite his best efforts, Remus’ eyes began to close involuntarily. His breathing slowed, and he slumped forward, resting his head in his hands. Remus didn’t know how much time had passed when—

“Mr Lupin! Sleeping in my class is unacceptable! This behaviour is quite inappropriate and unusual for you.”

Remus jumped slightly and glanced around with a lost expression on his face. “I’m sorry, Professor,” he mumbled. Sirius covered his mouth to hide his grin.

Binns crossed his ghostly arms. “I expect everyone to stay awake and engaged during my lessons. Perhaps we should find a way to renew your interest. Open your book on page one hundred seventy-three and read the first paragraph for the class.”

Remus swallowed nervously as he glanced at the paragraph. The words seemed to blur together, dancing around the page in a confusing jumble. He took a deep breath and began to read, stumbling over the words.

“Th-th-the G-Goblin rebl-rebellion were a series of violent, um, upr-risings—”

A snicker echoed from the Slytherins as Severus and his cronies exchanged amused glances. Remus’ stammering barely covered their mocking whispers. Lily shot them a warning glare and Severus slightly lowered his head, avoiding her eyes. Remus tried to go on.

“—that took place be-between the, uh, sevent-y-seven-teenth and eight-teenth centuries—”

“The freak can’t read,” a boy, Ixion Avery, sneered.

A Slytherin girl, Dorcas Meadows, shoved him fiercely. “Cut it. Now.”

Sirius shot a furious glance in their direction, his jaw clenched.

Remus was starting to feel humiliated and beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. His voice wavered. “—primar-primar-ly due to lo-long-lasting…”

“Okay, enough,” said Sirius. He grabbed Remus’ book and started reading. “Primarily due to longstanding grievances over wand ownership, employment rights, and legal status within the wizarding world. Goblins were known for their skill in metalwork and their control over Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Despite their talent and hardworking nature, they were notoriously undervalued in wizarding society, underpaid and lived in strained conditions. They progressively sought greater autonomy and respect from warlocks. The most notable of these rebellions occurred in 1612 in Hogsmeade village where they were met with fierce resistance from the wizarding community. Both sides faced numerous battles and significant casualties. The aftermath of these rebellions resulted in stricter regulations and a fragile peace though tensions between goblins and warlocks have persisted into modern times.”

Remus stared at Sirius with shock and silent gratitude. Sirius turned his head to face him with a small grin. Binns was already snoring on his desk. Suddenly, the small door above the clock face swung open, and the wooden cuckoo bird emerged. It tilted forward and let out a sharp, cheerful “cuckoo!” The call echoed through the room, and Binns was startled awake.

“Thank you, Mr Lupin,” he said. “All right, everyone, class is over. I will see you all next week.” Professor clapped his hands and his ghostly figure vanished into thin air. Some students eagerly run towards the exit. Remus stayed in his seat, unable to move. Sirius gently lifted Remus’ hand and placed a crumpled paper inside his palm. Remus unfolded it.

What happened?

Remus sighed and picked up his quill.

I’m dyslectic.

He passed the note back to Sirius and watched as he unfolded it. Sirius nodded without questioning him further, tore the paper apart, and shoved it in his bag. 

“Look, guys. Black and his boyfriend are sharing love notes,” said Benedict Mulciber from Slytherin as he approached the pair. “Nice seeing that you two losers have found each other.”

Sirius stood up with an air of casualness. “How would you know? The only love notes you get are from your mother,” he retorted, with a smug smile. Mulciber’s eyes flared with anger and he clenched his fists at his sides.

James and Peter approached their friends’ side. James’ eyes narrowed as he stared at the Slytherins. “Everything all right here?”

“Don’t worry, turns out Mulciber’s mother is quite the romantic,” said Sirius, his eyes fixed on Mulciber. “When you get the chance, tell her to send me an owl, would you?”

Mulciber was about to pounce on Sirius but Severus blocked him with his arm and moved forward. “At least Benedict gets letters from his mother,” he said. “Rumour has it you only get curses from yours.”

Sirius’ grin instantly dropped. Remus shot him a worried glance, his eyes widening slightly.

“Tell me, how does it feel to be a disappointment to your whole family?” Severus taunted him.

“Perhaps we should ask you,” said James. He stood next to Sirius protectively. “At least Evans seems to have gotten the memo.”

“What are you, five?”

They all jerked around towards the door where Lily was standing.

“Speak of the devil,” Avery muttered.

Lily scoffed and her eyes rested on Severus. “Don’t you have anything better to do than to drag us commoners?” She then turned to the other Slytherins. “Avery, I suggest you go practice on your ‘Expelliarmus’. Your disarming technique is just as pathetic as you are. Unless, of course, you want me to beat you again in our next class. And Mulciber,” she paused, sparing him an indifferent glance. “Have you ever heard of deodorant?”

The Slytherins hissed and their faces turned a deep red shade. James tried to hold back his smirk.

“Let’s get out of here,” Mulciber finally said. He moved towards the door but paused, his eyes scanning Lily up and down. “The air is suddenly filthier.”

 Lily clenched her hands but remained composed. The other Slytherins approached Benedict, and they all left the classroom.

“Thank you,” said James.

“Shut up. I didn’t do this for you.” Her eyes narrowed. “And don’t you ever use me again to get back at Severus,” she said already walking away.  

“That was cool,” said Peter.

Remus touched Sirius’ arm lightly. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“If you want to talk about it—”

“I said I’m fine,” Sirius replied harshly, snatching his arm away. Remus flinched.

“C’mon, don’t let these morons get under your skin,” said James.

“We should head to the Great Hall. It’s almost dinner time,” Peter suggested.

Sirius shook his head. “I think I’ve lost my appetite. Gonna head back to our dorm.”

“Fine, we’ll save you something for later.”

“Guys, what time is it?” Remus asked. He glanced at the wooden clock on the wall. 7.30 pm. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m supposed to meet McGonagall. See you later!” He rushed out of the classroom.

“You shouldn’t skip dinner,” Peter mumbled. Sirius rolled his eyes and James laughed as they all headed in opposite directions.

* * * * *

The night was dark and ominous, with heavy clouds obscuring the moon. Remus sat in Professor Dumbledore’s office, his hands tightly clasped in his lap to keep them from shaking. He had known this was coming, but the reality of it was much more daunting than he had anticipated. Professor McGonagall stood beside the fireplace, and Dumbledore was nearby, looking down at him.

“Remus, my boy, it is time,” he said.

“Are you ready?” McGonagall asked.

Remus swallowed hard. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Dumbledore nodded and gestured for him to follow them. “Come along, then. Professor McGonagall and I will escort you to the shrieking shack.”

They walked through the quiet, dimly lit corridors. Remus couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of dread. The moon would soon reach its full height in the sky and he knew what that meant for him. He tried to push away his thoughts but they suffocated him. His lycanthropy was something he would always resent about himself. It set him apart from others and made him feel like an outcast. But the worst thing was the fear of what he might do during his transformations. Once the wolf took control, he went feral and aggressive, unable to restrain himself from the rage. If someone were to be in the room with him, the chances were pretty slim that they’d make it out in one piece or even alive until dawn.  

Remus followed the Professors as they exited the castle and crossed the grounds. The Forbidden Forest loomed to their left. Professor McGonagall held her wand lightly to provide a faint glow that illuminated the way. Remus couldn’t help but think of his father’s wand, always clasped tightly in his grip on the nights of his transformation. He thought of the fear in his eyes and the silent aversion he tried to hide. McGonagall didn’t seem afraid at all.

Dumbledore broke the silence, his voice calm. “Remus, the shrieking shack has been specially prepared for you. It is an abandoned place where you can transform safely far from anyone who might accidentally stumble upon you.”

“But what if…what if I hurt someone?”

 “You won’t,” Professor McGonagall said. “The passage from the whomping willow to the shack is secure, and no one can enter it during your transformations apart from Professor Dumbledore, Poppy, and me.”

Remus recalled Madam Pomfreys’ kind face and he slightly relaxed.

“The shack itself is reinforced with protective spells to ensure your safety and the safety of others,” Professor McGonagall continued.

“Madam Pomfrey will always be nearby to assist you before and after your transformations. She is well-versed in how to care for you during this time,” Dumbledore added.

They finally reached the whomping willow, a gnarled, ancient tree that stood imposingly on the grounds of Hogwarts. Unlike any ordinary tree, the whomping willow was alive with movement. Its branches would lash out with the slightest provocation, swinging wildly in all directions. Dumbledore pulled out a long, thin branch and prodded a knot in the tree’s trunk. The violent branches stilled, allowing them to access the hidden passage beneath.

“Watch your step,” Professor McGonagall said as she guided Remus into the dark tunnel.

The air grew cooler and damper as they descended. Remus didn’t say a word until they emerged in the shrieking shack, an old, abandoned house a few miles outside Hogsmeade village. He shivered, both from the cold and the fear that was rising inside him. He wandered a little, taking in his surroundings. The broken furniture and boarded-up windows added to the eerie atmosphere. Remus approached his Professors and raised his hands indicating his wrists. He pressed his eyes shut, preparing himself for the cold sensation of manacles.

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

Remus reluctantly opened one eye. “I’m waiting for you to chain me, Professor.”

“What on Merlin’s name are you talking about, boy? We’re not going to chain you like a vile animal!”

“Then how—how can you ensure that I won’t hurt you?”

Dumbledore knelt down and looked him directly in the eyes. “Remus, I can assure you that we have all faced dangers far worse than a boy who flinches away at the notion of harming anyone. This is a place where you can fully and freely be yourself.”

Professor McGonagall nodded in agreement. “It will be difficult, especially at first. Freedom is something you are not accustomed to yet. But you were sorted into my House for a reason.” She smiled with pride. “You are a brave and strong young man, Remus Lupin. You will get through this.”

Remus took a deep breath to steady his nerves. “Thank you, Professor,” he said quietly. “I’ll do my best.”

“That is all we can ask of you, Remus,” said Dumbledore.

Hurried footsteps echoed through the passageway and the door creaked open. Madam Pomfrey stepped into the shack.

“I’m here,” she said. “I apologise for being late, I was so caught up in my lab that I lost track of time.”

“Don’t worry, Poppy. Minerva and I were about to leave,” said Dumbledore. He turned to face Remus one last time. “I leave you in good hands. We will meet you tomorrow.”

Remus nodded. The two Professors left him and Madam Pomfrey in the cold room. She approached him and gently stroked his cheek with her fingertips.

“How are you feeling, sweet boy?”

Remus’ eyes fluttered closed at her touch. “I don’t want to do this.”

“I know darling, I know.” She took him in her embrace. “But I will be right here with you. You don’t have to worry.”

Remus’ eyes widened and he broke free from her hands. “Madam Pomfrey, you can’t! It’s dangerous, what if I—”

“I will be right behind that door. If you need anything, I will come for you. And with the first rays of sunlight, I will rush to you. You will never be alone. I promise.”

A piercing sensation shot up Remus’ spine and he doubled over. His transformation was about to begin. “I think you should go,” he managed through gritted teeth.

“All right. Don’t forget what I told you. I’m here for you, sweet boy.” She placed a soft kiss on his forehead, and left, the door closing behind her.

Remus fell on the floor, letting the agony consume him. His body began to perform the painful process and he withered on the ground. He cursed his fate, cursed the beast that lay dormant within him until the moon’s cruel call. His emotions intensified as the wolf started to take over. His silent anger gave way to rage and resentment for his mere existence. He needed to break free from his body which suddenly felt like a cage. Claw marks appeared on his arms where he had torn at his own flesh. Sweat mingled with blood, soaking his clothes. He started sobbing uncontrollably, losing himself in a relentless cycle of self-hatred and remorse.

Eventually, howls filled the air, vibrating through the empty halls of the shack.

All things are to come to an end eventually, and so the night was over too. He could hear his mother’s voice in the back of his head.You close your eyes and the darkness is close, she used to say when he was younger and terrified. And when you open them once more, there will be light again. Just like that.

Remus slowly opened his eyes. Everything hurt; his arms, his head, his legs.  The familiar pain of returning to his human form had left him drained and he stayed on the floor, unable to move and not fully aware of his surroundings. He didn’t notice that Madam Pomfrey had stepped into the room, her face lined with concern.

“Oh, darling,” she murmured as she stepped closer.

Deep, gaping wounds carved cruelly into his flesh. Blood kept streaming from the large cuts that ran across his arms and torso, staining what was left of his clothes and pooling beneath him. His skin was a patchwork of raw, torn tissue and purplish bruises; each mark the result of the violent thrashing and self-inflicted injuries he’d endured.

Madam Pomfrey knelt beside him. “Let’s get you sorted out.”

Remus suddenly became aware of her presence and weakly scrambled to gather the remnants of his tattered clothes, wincing as he attempted to shield his battered form from her gaze.

“Remus,” she called softly, “it’s all right, I’m here to help.”

His hands shook as he clutched the torn fabric to his chest, trying to hide the worst of his injuries. Trembling, he turned his face away, not wanting her to see the full extent of his suffering. His amber eyes refused to meet hers. Madam Pomfrey placed a firm but gentle hand on his own.

“You don’t need to hide. Let me take care of you,” she whispered.

Remus finally felt his muscles relax and he reluctantly surrendered to her touch. She began her examination, carefully assessing the extent of his injuries. With practised hands, she started applying healing salves and dittany ointment to his wounds. Their cold touch provided some sort of relief, and Remus closed his eyes, letting the soothing sensations wash over him.

“You are so strong, darling. But remember to take care of yourself. These transformations take a toll on you.”

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Shh, don’t try to talk. We’re almost done.” After applying the salves, she handed him a vial of potion. “Here, drink this. It’s a healing draught. It will help replenish your strength.”

She gently held the back of his head and brought the potion to his lips. Remus took the vial and let the bitter liquid slide down his throat. He felt a warmth spreading through his body, easing some lingering aches and he released a relieved moan.

“There, that’s better,” said Madam Pomfrey. She wrapped a hand around his waist and shoulder to pull him up and covered his body with a long cloak. “I’ll help you back to the castle. You need rest, and I’ll make sure you have everything you need. Professor McGonagall has excused you from all of your classes for the day.”

Remus nodded and they slowly made their way out of the shack and through the tunnel. Emerging from the passage, the early morning bathed the Hogwarts grounds in soft light. Everything was peaceful as if the last night had never happened. Madam Pomfrey guided him towards the hospital wing and Remus collapsed on a bed.

“Take as long as you need. I will be right here. If you want to eat something just call me. There is water on your nightstand, along with some painkillers,” said Poppy while she gently brushed his unruly curls.

Remus nodded and closed his eyes.

He woke up early in the afternoon. Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore were quietly discussing near his bed. Once they noticed he had woken up, they approached his bed.

“Ah, I see you are finally awake. How are you, Remus?” Dumbledore asked.

“I’m fine, Professor, thank you.”

Minerva stepped closer. “No need to. We are here to help.” She eyed him with silent concern as she examined his scars. “Do you feel like you need to be restrained during your transformations to prevent harming yourself?”

Remus lowered his head. “I would actually prefer if you didn’t chain me up, if that’s all right with you, Professor. Sometimes, I struggle to break free from the shackles and I’ve broken my wrists and ankles with the effort before.”

“Whatever makes you feel more comfortable. You just have to ask.”

“Can I have something to eat?”

“Of course, boy. I will inform Poppy,” McGonagall said and headed towards Madam Pomfrey’s office.

Dumbledore sat at the edge of Remus’ bed. “Do you wish to be released from the infirmary?”

“Yes, Professor. I’d like to attend the rest of my classes.”

Dumbledore chuckled softly. “Of course. But you shouldn’t push yourself over the edge, just for today. You haven’t fully recovered yet.”

“I won’t. I think I’ll feel better once I eat.”

The Headmaster watched him in silence for a few moments. “What happened to you does not define you. You are more than your condition,” he said.

Remus didn’t reply and averted his gaze.

 “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some important matters to take care of. I have to get back to my office.” He stood up and walked over to the entrance of the wing. “And Remus,” Dumbledore said, pausing at the door and facing the young boy. “If your burdens become too heavy to lift, you must remember you have people willing to carry them with you, people who care about you—beyond Minerva, Poppy, and me.”

Dumbledore closed the door behind him. Remus released an exhausted sigh. He knew the Headmaster was right. He knew his friends cared about him but it was too early for him to risk their friendship. He wished there was an easy way to trust them with his secret. Consumed with doubt and fear, he decided it was better to endure this alone. For the moment, at least.

After eating, Remus once again thanked Madam Pomfrey for her great assistance and care. He still felt exhausted both physically and mentally so despite his growing desire to attend the rest of the classes, he decided to take the day off and rest. He walked back to the dormitory.

The castle felt oddly quiet as he walked through the heavy doors to the common room. It was nearly empty. Only a few students were huddled in a corner, poring over their textbooks. Remus sighed, grateful for the solitude. He opened the door to their dorm and sank into his bed, the familiar comfort of the worn mattress easing his tension. He closed his eyes, letting the fatigue wash over him, and for a moment, he drifted into a light sleep.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Remus shot up and Sirius halted mid-sentence, catching sight of the scars on the other boy’s face. Remus instinctively turned his head away. Sirius approached, crossing his arms and studying him with an intensity that made Remus feel exposed.

“Did a troll break into the library last night and attack you and McGonagall?”

“No.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No,” Remus said again, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone.

Sirius sighed. “Look Remus, I’m sorry about yesterday. I didn’t mean to be harsh. Sometimes, I tend to lash out at the wrong people.”

“You don’t have to apologise. You defended me against those arses. Thank you.”

Sirius nodded. “Okay. I should let you rest.”

Remus hesitated. “Sirius—”

“Yes?”

“What did Snape mean?”

Sirius flinched slightly but quickly regained his indifferent expression. “Nothing you need to worry about. Just stupid rumours.”

Remus studied him. He could sense Sirius’ tension. He wanted to press further, but the moment felt fragile and he didn’t want to break it. Instead, Sirius opened his schoolbag and pulled out a stack of papers. He passed them to Remus.

“Here, I took notes for today’s classes. I figured you’d freak out if you didn’t have them.”

Remus blinked. “Thank you.”

Sirius shrugged. He sat down on his own bed, directly opposite Remus. They both waited for the others in silence.