The Wolf and the Raven

Ch 35 - Change of Plans

Remus was, at first, surprised by all the mail he received. Then he feigned annoyance. Didn't Branwen know that he had essays to write? Didn't she know how much those international-post owls ate? Didn't she know that normal people had better things to do on holiday than write to their lame school friends? His parents listened to his complaints with knowing smiles. They heard him muttering about "stupid girls" one day as he was pinning up a collage on his wall of all the photos she sent. On more than one occasion, Lyall came home from work to see his son leaning out the window of his room, eagerly scanning the skies.

The full moon in August came on the second day. On the first, Remus lay in bed with a high fever.

Hope came up to his room with a towel and bowl of ice water. She pushed the damp hair from her son's sweating brow and watched his chest heave with every laboured breath. It was all she could do not to break down and sob over her his aching body. She blinked the tears from her eyes and allowed them to stray to the photos tacked on the wall beside his bed. "These are lovely," she smiled. "That Potter girl is very kind, writing to you this much."

Remus managed a small smile and nodded.

"She's very pretty too, isn't she?"

His eyes squinted open. "Mum...."

"Oh, hush," she said. "I just said she was kind and pretty. I never said you had to marry the girl."

"Good. Because you know why I can't...."

"Now stop it. I don't want to hear any of your self-pitying nonsense about never being able to have a relationship. Not everyone will push you away because, because...."

"Because of my condition? Mum, look at yourself." He grabbed her wrist with a weak grip. Hope Lupin was still a young woman, but her once sunny, blond hair was now streaked with an ashen grey. Her face was thin and pale, her fingers calloused from performing years of menial jobs. Those fingers now stroked the rough cloth gently over her son's flaming torso. He dropped her arm, then sighed. "What woman would want to do this for the rest of her life?"

Hope paused, her eyes landing on Branwen's copy of "Beedle the Bard." She smiled, "Neither of us has given up on you yet."

Remus gave a lung-rattling sigh. "She's too young."

"I'm five years younger than your father."

"She's James' sister."

"So you'd be his brother."

"Mum," Remus' voice was getting weaker.

"I'm sorry, darling. Forget I said anything." She leaned down to press her lips to his brow and was startled at the burning sensation. "I'm going to go run an ice bath for you, love."

Remus received one final letter from Branwen that summer. When he took it from the owl, he glanced nervously at his mother. She was in the sitting room, working on the mending she had taken in from the village.

"Is fro' de Po'er gurl?" she asked, her mouth full of pins.

"Yeah," he answered. "It's a Howler."

"Well," she took out the pins, then winked her son, "would you like me to leave the room?"

He rolled his eyes, then ripped open the envelope, allowing it to shout its message.

"Remus! I can't believe I forgot about the next full moon! It's on the first of September! The day we leave for Hogwarts! Don't worry. I'm going to talk to my parents and figure it out. Hang tight and wait for another letter to come soon. Oh, and tell your mum and dad hi!"