Watching the Stars—Four Years Old

Disclaimer: I own nothing remotely related to Harry Potter. All belongs to the brilliant JK Rowling.

The door slammed shut with a resounding bang as Lyall stormed into the house. Remus looked up from his multi-colored building blocks strewn about the living room, and Hope bustled out of the kitchen, surprise and worry etched on her face.

"What's wrong, dear?" she asked, pulling her husband into a swift embrace.

"I'm on probation," Lyall muttered angrily and stomped into the kitchen, Hope close on his heels. Remus stood up and followed, pressing his ear against the door to investigate why his father was so uncharacteristically tense.

". . . what happened at work?" came his mother's voice, slightly muffled due to the door.

"Apparently, I've been suspended for 'accusing an innocent Muggle.'"

"Is this about that man who was charged for killing those Muggle children?"

"Yes. They brought him in for questioning . . . ."

Remus pulled away with a disappointed sigh. They were just talking about silly grown-up stuff, like work. He trudged back and plopped down amongst his brightly colored blocks. With an enthusiastic grin, he began to build a tower.

He happily giggled as each block changed color at his touch. He lunged for a brilliantly blue block, which changed to a deep hue of red as he placed it on the base. Then, he snatched up a bright yellow block, but wound up holding a lime green one. He continued in this fashion for a while, staring in childish awe each time a block changed, and squealed in delight when, as he reached out to steady his tower, all the colors flashed and switched simultaneously.

Once the tower had attained a considerable height, a mischievous smile began to play on Remus' lips. With an almost apprehensive look towards the (still shut) kitchen door, he reached out, grabbed the bottom block—which flashed from light brown to a bright pink—and yanked back, hard. All the blocks came tumbling down and ricocheted off the floor, almost as if they were made of rubber.

Remus squealed, elated, as the bright objects scattered haphazardly across the sitting room. Clapping boisterously, he watched as the blocks slowly lost momentum and settled to the ground, bright jewels dotting a desert of sand. He began crawling around, still chuckling happily, and gathering up the blocks, trying to stifle any more loud outbursts as the blocks changed color in his grasp.

He glanced up when he heard the kitchen door open, still reaching for a yellow block and silently debating whether it would turn green or blue. His arm froze, however, when he saw the look on his father's face. Lyall was still furious, but something else had mixed into his features: intense fear. And the concoction was anything but pleasant. He let out a small sigh of relief when he saw Remus, but his face quickly hardened again as he ordered, "Remus, go to bed. Now."

"But, but we haven't even had supper yet!" Remus whined, dropping his arm like an anchor to the ground.

"I don't care. Go to bed," his father barked, setting his jaw angrily.

"No!" Remus nearly yelled, throwing the blocks down. He stood up and crossed his arms defiantly, unaware of the jumping projectiles, or the fact that the nearest ones had started smoking dangerously.

Lyall growled in annoyance. "Remus. You don't want to do this with me right now . . . ."

The boy continued to glare, lower lip pouting oh-so provocatively.

"Fine!" his father snapped, after minutes of thick, intense silence. "But right after supper, you're going straight to bed!"

"Fine!" Remus replied huffily just as a bright green block caught on fire.

"And stop setting your bloody blocks on fire!" Lyall said, pulling out his wand and extinguishing the flame. Remus flinched.

"Lyall! Language!" Hope's voice reprimanded from the kitchen in astonishment. Her grumbling faded as she returned to the stove to finish cooking.

Supper passed in stony silence. Remus picked at his food, slightly miffed by the worried state of his parents. They were continuously glancing at the windows and door as if expecting someone to come crashing in. He stabbed moodily at his peas. Why did his parents have to act so strange today?

The second Remus took his last bite, his father stood up abruptly. "Time for bed, I believe," he said. Most of his anger had disappeared over the course of supper, and a kind of panic had slowly slithered into its spot.

Lyall led his son out of the dining room to his bedroom. Remus, however, bolted straight past the bed and instead clambered onto the windowsill, staring out at the stars that were just appearing.

"Daddy, help me find the patterns," he said eagerly, eyes locked on the twinkling night sky.

"Remus, I said bed. We're not stargazing tonight," his father said in a voice that bode no argument.

With a dejected sigh, Remus crawled off the windowsill. As he leaped into bed, he recalled something curious. "Why is the moon so big tonight?"

Remus was too busy situating himself under the mountains of comforter to notice how his father tensed at the question.

"Never you mind," he answered with forced calmness, throwing a frenzied look out the window. "I'll tell you another day. For now, you need to get to sleep. Good night, Remus."

Lyall took a few steps back, but instead of leaving the room, he conjured up a chair and sat down.

"What are you doing, Daddy?"

"Making sure you actually go to sleep. I don't want you getting out of this bed."

"I won't get out of bed," Remus said innocently, crossing his fingers tightly under the sheets. "I promise." Lyall, however, made no intention to leave. "Well, if you're gonna stay in here," Remus added, a look of hope on his face, "will you read me a bedtime story?"

"No, Remus, I-"

"Why not?" Remus cried, all happiness gone. "First, you make me go to bed early! Then, you tell me I can't look at the stars! Why can't you read me a story?"

"Remus, listen, you-"

"I want a story!" Remus shouted, falling instinctively into one of his classic tantrums.

Lyall opened his mouth to argue, but before he could utter a single word, the chair disappeared from beneath him. He picked himself up immediately and dusted himself off, huffing as he rose and cursing quietly under his breath.

"Stop doing that! You know what? Fine! I'll read you a story! But afterwards, you are to go straight to sleep, got it?"

"Thanks, Daddy," Remus replied, calm once again, as he settled more comfortably in his bed.

His father rolled his eyes and muttered something that vaguely sounded like "bloody children." He created another chair and settled down, before summoning an old, timeworn copy of Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump.

Once the story was finished, Lyall flicked his wand and the book disappeared.

"Can you read the one about the three brothers now?" Remus asked excitedly, eyes wide and staring hopefully at his father.

"No, Remus. I said one story, and you got it. Go to sleep now."

"But Daddy-"

"No. Go to sleep."

Remus sighed. He recognized when his influences were wearing off. "Fine," he mumbled, rolling over and staring out the window. He imagined a few of the twinkling stars beckoning him closer.

"Don't even think about getting out of this bed," Lyall muttered as if in response to Remus' thoughts.

Remus glared mutinously out at the bright, happy stars. An intricate plan began forming in his head. Would it work? It was worth a shot . . . .

"OK, Daddy," he said in a voice nearly inaudible with exhaustion. He quickly shut his eyes and slowed his breathing. He shifted slightly and pulled the blankets more tightly around him, mumbling quietly as if he was drifting into a deep sleep.

He continued to feign sleep for nearly five minutes before his father finally fell. Remus heard a slight creak from the chair as he stood up, and heard the faint rustles of his robes as he disposed of it. A blossom of warmth covered his temple for a fleeting moment, and his father moved towards the door.

"Stay safe," Lyall whispered into the darkness before the door quietly clicked shut.

A smirk spread on Remus' face. He had done it. He had managed to trick his father into leaving. He rolled over and peered through half-closed eyelids, double-checking to make sure the room was empty.

Once he was positive he was alone, Remus leapt out of bed enthusiastically and dashed to his window. Clambering up onto his windowsill, he saw the multitude of stars winking at him, calling him to join them.

With a quick look around the room (he was still worried his father was hiding in the shadows) Remus carefully reached out and undid the latch, pushing the window out as wide as it would go. The cool night air tickled his face as his eyes dreamily roamed over the sky. Stars twinkled in every direction, but Remus couldn't see any of the patterns his father usually pointed out to him. Only the brilliant white luminescence of the full moon caught his eye.

He let his gaze drop to the small forest outside his house. The trees stood tall and foreboding, like jagged black teeth, obscuring part of the night sky. The forest was a deep, consuming darkness, all traces of light swallowed up by the leaves above. His eyes probed intently through the void, but the only things that could be seen amid the trees were two pinpricks of yellow light.

Remus stiffened and leaned forward out the window in wonder. His mind strained to connect with what he was seeing. He had just determined the yellow lights were glowing eyes and hadn't even enough time to be concerned before the beast jolted out into the moonlight and came charging towards the house.

With a small gasp of surprise, Remus scrambled backwards and pulled the window shut. He tried to redo the latch with shaky hands, but terror overwhelmed him when he saw the huge, wolf-like creature barreling straight for him. Suppressing a scream, he leapt off the windowsill and soared through the air back onto his bed, pulling the blankets tight over his head.

The sound of shattering glass pierced his ears, but before he could even react, the blankets were violently torn off of him.

This time, Remus did scream. The last thing he saw was a flash of bloody mangled fur and teeth before the wolf sunk its sharp fangs into his shoulder. After that he could focus on nothing but the intense, piercing, burning pain shooting through his entire being. The beast jerked its head violently and Remus screamed louder than he ever had before, louder than he had ever known, louder than humanly possible, hoping against hope somebody would come save him. He felt as if his soul were being torn to shreds by this creature hovering above him, like nothing would be the same again.

A strange sort of cloud descended upon him, inviting him into darkness. He lingered just long enough to scream disjointedly one last time, before welcoming the darkness and falling blissfully into unconsciousness.

"There's nothing more we can do."

"The Healer's right, dear. It might just be better for him."

"No! How can you turn your back on him like this?"

Remus blearily opened his eyes. He was in a bright white room he didn't recognize, and three shadows stood around his bed, obscured by the blinding light.

"Remus!" his mother cried, swooping down and pulling him into a gentle hug that nevertheless caused him to wince in agony. "You want to stay with Mummy and Daddy, don't you?"

"Of course, Mummy. What's going on?" Tears began to prick at his eyes. Strange images flashed through his mind, and his heart began to pump faster.

"See?" Hope said, ignoring her son's question and turning back to Lyall and the Healer. "He wants to stay."

Lyall shook his head exasperatedly. "He doesn't understand."

"He wants to stay," she repeated. "He should be allowed to."

"Your wife is right, Mr. Lupin," the Healer said. "It is ultimately the boy's decision."

"But if he knew . . ."

"Then why don't you explain it to him? I'll be just outside."

The Healer stepped out of the room as Lyall came to sit by Remus' bedside. "Do you know what attacked you, son?" he asked in a soft voice.

Remus involuntarily reached for his bandaged shoulder, and the tears flowed over his eyes. Slowly, he shook his head.

"It was a werewolf. You know what that is, right?"

Remus nodded. He remembered the stories his father used to tell him: vicious beasts that attacked defenseless villages until the valiant hero showed up to save the day.

"The werewolf bit you. Do you know what that means?"

He hesitated, and then shook his head.

"Remus," his father gulped, "you're a werewolf."

Remus crinkled his brow in confusion. Werewolves were said to be crazy monsters, always craving human flesh, but he didn't feel like that. He felt like the same boy as before, just in a lot of pain and probably with a new scar on his shoulder.

"You still want to stay, don't you?" Lyall asked gently.

Remus quickly nodded, causing his father to sigh worriedly and his mother to burst into mixed tears of joy and aching. She hugged her son again, but immediately stopped when he yelped in pain. "Oh, son" she whispered, voice sweet like honey, "I love you. I will always love you no matter what."

"I love you, too," he replied, a bit confused, just as the Healer came back to give him a potion. She told him it was for dreamless sleep, no nightmares, and he gulped it down without complaint.

"We both love you no matter what," Lyall whispered, taking hold of his wife's hand.

"Mmhm," Remus muttered tiredly and rolled over. He pulled the sheets tightly around him and closed his watery eyes, not knowing his life would never be the same again.