Wolves meeting
August 30th, 1978.
He was born to Lyall Lupin and Hope Lupin née Carter. Lyall is a passionate man; the only problem was that sometimes he was passionate about the wrong things. He was not a blood purist—he had married a Muggle, for Merlin’s sake—but he was obsessed with werewolves. He had never been attacked by a werewolf, but he fought staunchly against them. He had touched Greyback’s bottom line with his anti-werewolf speeches in the Wizengamot. And in the bottom of his heart, he resented Greyback, not for going after them but for choosing the wrong victim.
He was 5 years old when Greyback bit him just to spite his father. But why? Why couldn’t he just attack his father and bite him instead of condemning him to be an outcast? An outcast in his family, an outcast at school, an outcast for jobs. He ruined his life, and the real person he wanted to damage was living his life carefree, hating him just as much as any other werewolf.
Would he ever attend a Ministry party hanging by Lord Silverclaw’s arm and meet his father? What would he think? Would he shout to everyone that he was a werewolf? He didn’t think so. No. His father is a coward; he hides behind other people. Perhaps he had learned from him to do so. He was ashamed of his behavior during Hogwarts, especially his time as a Prefect. He really was a coward just like his father. Hiding behind others, not owning up to his mistakes, and wasn’t that telling something. He had no excuse or justification. He just acted wrong.
In the end, he had held on to his two friends so vehemently that he really didn’t have any more time to make other friends. He realized how lonely he could be when James chased after Lily to Albania and Sirius disappeared with no apparent reason—well, to marry Severus, but he didn’t know that.
He sees them together and he’s amazed by how well they complement each other. This new soft and mellow Severus, with a little smile while touching his belly, was totally unimaginable when they were snotty 15-year-olds. He wonders if he could be just the same. Ease the worries in his mind and in his face. He was so tired nowadays. And lonely.
God, he feels so lonely in the small Lupin Cottage. He has caught himself twice picturing a very realistic image of his mother Hope, humming in the kitchen, preparing something for his growling stomach. But there’s nothing for him to eat after he blinks, and his sweet mother is already gone. Just like his father and sometimes his friends.
He is not delusional. He knows how he looks and that he has nothing to offer. Maybe Lord Silverclaw would see him, not like him, and take the proposal back. He was dreading that moment. He had seen the hope in Sirius’s eyes, even the pleased look on Walburga’s face. But he was most afraid of Severus’s reaction.
Would he reproach him for not being able to grasp his chance? Maybe. He couldn’t know. He just knew that he wanted so desperately to be able to. He wanted to get home to someone. Even if it would have to be an Alpha husband. Maybe not feeling alone anymore by having the irrevocable proof of being part of a family. He had found himself daydreaming about doing the same as Severus.
Him, sitting on a beautiful couch by the fireplace, a carefree smile on his face while he rubbed his lower belly unconsciously.
He didn’t care anymore about passing the lycanthropy. So what? His children wouldn’t ever be rejected, not by him nor by their father. They would be born with it, so no pain would be involved. Just love. A loving family. They wouldn’t be insecure, neither personally nor financially. Nothing like him, never.
His mother, Hope Lupin née Carter, was a Muggle woman from the Welsh countryside. She fell in love with the average-looking Lyall Lupin, a man with French ancestry, because regardless of what everyone could believe, his surname had nothing to do with werewolves but plants. Hope was beautiful, with chestnut hair and honey eyes. She fell in love with Lyall, although he didn’t have much to offer her. He was a pureblood from a small branch of a small family from France. He was the fourth child of Francois Lupin and Clémence Laurent. He did not inherit anything as everything was the possession of the first child. They didn’t have many assets to divide. Just a beautiful house in the countryside. That was everything they had.
They lived close to each other, and Lyall knew he had no better prospects in the magical world. Although he was a small-known pureblood, his bland looks couldn’t compete with the local handsome boys. He settled for Hope and started living in her cottage, the one given to her by her parents, William and Charity Carter.
Five years into their marriage, Remus was born, and everything was perfect until the Greyback episode.
Although Lyall was not an overly affectionate guy, he was happy with his heir. He was well-mannered and cute, with sandy blond hair and honey eyes. A gentleman in the making. All of that was shattered when his baby was turned into a monster.
Lyall gave the cold shoulder to Remus and by extension to Hope, who loved her son until her last day on Earth. He couldn’t reconcile the image of his well-behaved son with the beast he believed him to be. And Remus understood. Suddenly, he was separated from everyone. Never going outside, homeschooled. No friends and no family.
He knew that his mother was an only child, but his father was not. He had four other siblings, all of them with children. He was not allowed to see them, much less play with them. He just wanted to feel some warmth, and when he got it at Hogwarts, he just wanted to hold on to it for dear life.
Now, it was time to get real, permanent warmth. He didn’t care if Lord Silverclaw rejected him in the end, he had to try.
He was given a delicate dusty pink robe by Severus. He initially eyed the robe with doubts, but he was assured that it was a color that went well with his hair, skin, and eyes. When he put it on, he found another version of himself. He normally wore creams and browns, which looked good on him, but this pastel color was gorgeous.
Severus was happy to oblige and help him to comb his hair. No accessories.
“Werewolves don’t like their mates wearing things given by someone else,” Severus whispered when he asked why.
“Then, what about this robe?” he asked nervously.
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” he sighed. “I was the one to buy it and bring it to you. I’m a pregnant man, he will have no problem with me giving you something. He knows I’m not contending for you as I’m someone else’s.”
“Bit possessive, isn’t it?” he said under his breath.
“Werewolves, Alpha werewolves, are well-known for being possessive,” Severus smiled at him with a cat-like expression through the mirror. “Don’t get nervous,” he said slowly. “You are everything an Alpha would like.”
After that, they went down the stairs where Sirius was waiting for them. He was wearing his heir robes, black with silver accents, perfectly matching Severus’s own magenta robe with silver accents.
“You look beautiful,” he said with a sincere smile, then he turned. “But my husband is the best-looking man in the world. Sorry, Remy, honesty above everything.”
“I know,” he winked at Severus, who smacked them both.
“Sirius, are you forgetting something?” he said, rolling his eyes.
“Oh, yes, dear. Kreacher!” he called, and an exasperated house-elf appeared with a magical camera.
Severus unceremoniously led him to a chair that had no back. He was seated, and Sirius and Severus stood behind him. When Kreacher took the photograph, Sirius was smiling widely while holding Severus in a half hug. Severus was smiling softly while caressing his belly, and Remus smiled nervously with both hands on his lap.
“It’s official, we have adopted Remus!” Sirius shouted excitedly before Severus smacked him again.
“Stop it,” he said seriously. “We are going to be late if we don’t hurry.”
Sirius was the one in charge of side-apparating them. Severus shouldn’t use the Floo, and brooms were uncomfortable for him, too risky. Sirius was also the only one who knew where they were going. He made sure that everything was okay with both of them before apparating them.
They were apparated to the front of a mansion? It couldn’t be anything else considering the size of the building, but it looked more like a cottage. Stone walls covered in beautiful vines and flowers lit only by soft warm torches. It was a dream come true for Remus.
From the inside, a man came out to greet them. The man was tall, taller than Remus, and that was something. Remus was 1.85 m, and this man was at least 1.92 m. He was not only tall but bulky. He had dark red hair and piercing golden eyes. When he was close enough that Remus could smell him, he felt his knees go weak. He had a really overpowering scent, one that made his wolf bow before the Alpha.
He had never met an Alpha before. His cheeks grew red, and he looked endearing to the Alpha.
Lord Hunter Silverclaw was 25 years old, and he had been looking for an omega for two years already. As an Alpha, he felt a strong need to protect and provide. He had been looking around for good candidates, but he was never satisfied. He didn’t want a bloodthirsty machine for a bride, nor uncultured folks to raise his children. He despised mean people and was determined not to have one of those raising his children.
He was not trying to say that all werewolves were bad, definitely not. It’s just that normally those who were willing to become omegas were in desperate need, and their circumstances forced them to develop crooked characters or forced them to be uneducated due to the lack of opportunities.
He had started a rehabilitation center for werewolves. It was meant to teach young werewolves, set up jobs for adult werewolves, and let them grow an income to have a dignified life.
This Remus Lupin was a rare case. Heir Sirius Black had approached him just a little over a month ago to discuss Remus Lupin as a candidate. Heir Black had taken him under his care after he finished his education at Hogwarts, something interesting because normally bitten wolves were never allowed to attend. He went to Durmstrang himself, where they were accommodating to his needs and those of his siblings. He had three siblings who were also pure-blooded werewolves.
He was the second-born but the only alpha. His title was given to him when he was 21 years old when his father wanted to retire and left him everything to sort out so he could go and enjoy the quiet life of the retirees.
Heir Black was convinced that Remus would be the perfect candidate, and he proved it with just one photo. In the photo, a young man was sitting by a tree, reading a book intently when his attention was called. He looked to the camera, rolled his eyes, then smiled softly and waved. He was wearing the Hogwarts uniform and had a prefect badge.
Sirius had told him all about him. He was born on the 10th of March, 1960. He was already 18 years old that year. A perfect age for fertility, for he would be able to bear many cubs. A Prefect with the best grades in his OWLs and NEWTs. Well-educated and well-mannered. He was kind and patient. He was only insecure about his werewolf and his appearance, something he could help him out with.
When they appeared at his doorstep, he analyzed them thoroughly. Heir Black looked pristine as usual, but his normally mad, unfathomable gaze was totally softened by the company of who could only be his lawfully wedded husband, Consort Severus Black.
Consort Black had a fashionable robe on, a brilliant type of pink that was tight in his arms and chest but flowy in his abdomen where his hand was unconsciously placed after the side-apparition. He had a serious countenance, but he was unable to hide how adorable he was. He had really long, slightly wavy, dark black hair, and he was wearing a silver hairpin adorned with diamonds. He was positively glowing with his pregnancy. He already smelled of milk powder to his werewolf senses.
By his side was his omega-to-be. He was wearing a dusty pink robe, and he was red in the cheeks, endearing. It was obvious that he had never been in the presence of an Alpha before. His intellectual look had been watered down by the delicate dusty pink robe that made him look like a doll. A pretty treasure to take home and hide from onlookers. He had soft honey eyes that showed how nervous he really was. And his scent was as sweet as his eyes. He smelled like flowers and honey, really born to be an omega. His scent also showed some neediness that made sense when you noticed the loneliness in his eyes.
He greeted Heir Black, who introduced him to the others.
"It is my pleasure to introduce you to my husband, Severus Black née Rowle-Prince," he savored the name of his husband in a way that got him a pinch from him, "and one of my best friends, Remus John Lupin, protégé of the Black Family."
He kissed the back of Consort Black’s hand first, and when it was his turn to kiss Remus’s, his wolf howled with happiness. This was their omega.