Chapter 2 – Letters of Acceptance

Remus Lupin tried not to be upset. He really did; it was his birthday, after all. But it was hard knowing that if he was normal, if he wasn't a monster, that he would be getting an acceptance letter into Hogwarts today. Remus had known it was coming; almost immediately after being bitten, his parents, not being able to stand seeing him being so naively hopeful, had explained that it was impossible for him to go.

So with that, and the full moon tonight, Remus was in a pretty bad mood. He put on a smile anyway, knowing how much stress his condition put on his parents. They had tried everything to find a cure, or something that would help just the tiniest bit, but there wasn't anything to be found but hoaxes and lies.

"Happy Birthday Remus!" his father congratulated him as he walked into the kitchen. His mother was standing at the table behind him, putting eggs and bacon on the table and grinning widely at him.

"Thanks dad," Remus said, still keeping the fake grin spread across his face.

They sat down at the table, eating in silence. Remus suspected that they knew that he wasn't genuinely happy, but they didn't say anything. There wasn't anything to say. Before the silence could get extremely awkward, Remus stood up, grabbing his plate to take over to the sink.

"You don't need to wash your dishes today," his mother told him. "It's your birthday, have some fun!"

Remus was about to protest – he didn't mind doing chores like other boys his age – when a large tawny owl fluttered in through the window. His father reached up to grab the letter off of the bird's talon – he was the only one to ever get mail – but the owl soared straight over his head and dropped the letter into Remus' hands.

The three of them stared at the letter in his hands. Not only did he not have any wizarding friends that sent him mail, but he also didn't have any Muggle friends that could have written him through the Muggle post office, the letter being redirected by owl. Completely confused, Remus neatly opened the envelope and shook open the letter.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE (Order of Merlin: First Class, Grand Sorc. Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Lupin,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

Remus sat down heavily, letting the letter fall to the ground. It didn't mean anything, anyway. This was probably someone's idea of a sick joke. Merlin was probably laughing at him somewhere. Remus didn't have enough will to keep the mask up any longer. He sat down and put his head in his arms and cried. He hadn't cried in years – the monthly transformations had all but made him immune to the pain of anything else, and he knew that crying about a situation wouldn't help anything, so he didn't.

But now, he didn't care that crying wouldn't help, he didn't care what his parents might think of him – right now, he wanted nothing more than to be normal, and that couldn't happen.

And to top it all off, the school that he had wanted to go to since he was able to talk had sent him an invitation that he couldn't accept.

Merlin was probably going into hysterics, laughing at him.

His parents glanced at each other, concerned – that, or wondering whether or not he had finally snapped.

He couldn't bring himself to care, either way.

X

Dear Professor McGonagall,

My apologies, but I will not be able to attend Hogwarts this fall due to circumstances out of my control.

Deepest Regrets,

Remus Lupin

Remus sighed as he tied the letter to their old barn owl. After he had finally pulled himself together (it had taken quite a while), he had mechanically gone to get parchment and a quill to respond to the invitation. He couldn't accept, no matter how much he wanted to. He had spent the rest of the day reading, waiting for the family owl to get back from hunting, and trying to distract himself; he didn't want to start crying again. By the time the owl had finally gotten back, it was almost nightfall, and Remus was exhausted. He never did much on the day of a full moon, but he always ended up fatigued anyway.

"Remus," his mom whispered as he watched the owl fly off above the forest. "It's time." She always sounded so heartbroken, no matter how many times Remus had gone through this.

Remus gave her a weak smile, and took her hand as he followed her down to their basement. His father was waiting outside, ready to put reinforcing charms on the door, just in case my wolf-self tried to escape.

In the six years since Remus' last transformation, the basement had been thrashed so thoroughly that it was hardly recognizable as the medium-sized, grey room that he had entered as a five-year-old. The even grey walls were now coated with layers upon layers of dried blood, and large lumps of fur were congealed in the corners. There were several large cracks along the walls from where he had hurled himself against them, and the floor was reduced to rubble in some places. He hardly even grimaced – he was used to it – but his mom let out a small sob, the same as every other month, before his dad closed the door, looking at him with pity in his eyes.

He felt abruptly angry. Nobody actually thought of him as a human being – he either got looks of pity or revulsion. He was just something that people felt bad for or looked down on. Even his own father pitied him!

Remus forced himself to calm down. Over the years he had learned he transformation would be much worse if he was feeling any kind of strong emotions during the change. He would try to spare himself any unnecessary pain.

But as the moon rose above the horizon, Remus thought to himself that the amount of pain didn't actually make a difference.

X

When Remus finally woke up around noon the next day, he hurt. A lot. But that wasn't exactly new, and he didn't want to make his mom even more upset, so he tried to refrain from making any noises of pain, keeping his eyes tightly shut.

But contrary to his expectations, she wasn't murmuring worriedly to his dad under her breath, instead the tone sounded almost, excited. What really astounded him was another emotion in her voice that he could feel across from across the room, even though he couldn't understand the words or see her face.

Hope was a foreign emotion in Remus' household, all of them coming to an unspoken agreement that there was nothing that they could do for him. Quite frankly, Remus was relieved that they had stopped trying. None the supposed cures were working; all they did was strip them of all of the money that Remus' parents earned at their jobs.

So it surprised Remus considerably when he heard his mother whispering hopefully to his father. He risked opening his eyes, almost recoiling when the light struck his sensitive retinas. Remus squinted to where his parents were standing on the other end of the room, hunched over a letter.

He sighed. They had promised that they wouldn't spend any more money on any of the fake "cures" going around.

The noise alerted his parents, and they hurried over to his bedside, careful not to shake the bed; the smallest things caused him pain. Their faces looked down at him – his father's concerned and worried, and his mother's excited – and smiled at him when they saw that his eyes were open.

"Remus," his mother whispered. The whispering was a bit annoying – he wasn't going to get any worse if she talked any louder – but never said anything. It would hurt her.

"Hey mum. Hey dad."

"Are you okay?" she whispered worriedly.

No. "Yeah."

"How are you feeling?" she persisted.

Horrible. "Fine."

There was a bit of an awkward pause. There had been a lot of them in the past six years, and Remus had learned to just wait them out.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Remus," his father began. "We got another letter from Hogwarts. You don't mind that we read it, do you?" he asked, suddenly anxious, as he handed Remus the already-opened letter.

He unfolded it and stared in shock at the writing on the page. "No, not at all," Remus said, in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

Dear Mr. Lupin,

I am aware of the special circumstances that would normally prevent you from attending Hogwarts, but I don't believe you should be kept from learning because of something out of your control. If you still wish to attend, I would like to meet with you at 6:00 on March 12 to discuss the specifics.

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster