Everyone you meet has their own personal demon speaking and sparing themselves against their brain.

For Remus John Lupin, the main demon that haunts his every move, his every breath, his very being, is that night that his childhood ended.

He was four years old, barely turning five. His mum would tell him that he was always a quiet child, he never fussed, never made a mess, and that he was gentle. She would say it to him with a twisted gaze upon the wrinkled softness of her face, and his heart would ache with sorrow when she looked at him that way.

As if he wasn't that same gentle boy, as if he was something harder, something more wicked. Tainted, and he supposed that perhaps he is.

He remembers that night well, perhaps more than he should, but he sometimes wonders how he could forget it.

Remus had been playing, carelessly really, the air was just starting to warm with heat near Lupin's little cottage in Welsh. Causing the grass to prickle a vibrant green and ring flowers to blossom near patches of bushes and tree trunks.

His skin was caked with dried mud, so much so he had known that his mum would neatly go off her head at him later that night when he would be forced to bathe. ( Remus remembered how much he hated baths. ) But she didn't seem to care too much, for she sat on their porch with his father, lemon in between them with books sat on their laps. Remus had spotted a patch of bright yellow flowers — the kind that turned your chin yellow if you enjoyed butter enough.

He had decided to pick them, make a tiny bouquet and offer them to his mum as a present; he had figured he'd get an extra piece of chocolate cake that night for it.

But the flower patch didn't stay a brilliant glow of yellow much longer.

The night changed, as most nights do, with brilliant stars sparkling against the vast darkness. All surrounded the moon, which was full, of course. He remembers questioning his father when he was a teenager, on why he didn't protect him further, for he knew Lyall Lupin worked in the department to ban all werewolves.

That was also a fact that pierced his heart a little more than it should.

In his left hand, he was holding five flowers, the grooves of their stems digging into his grim filled palms as he blew strands of his sandy hair out of his still chubby face. His right hand was reaching out to grab another when he heard his mum's scream.

Remus had turned towards her, watching as she made a run towards him. Lemonade glass falling into tiny shards against the wood, his father's arm had wrapped around her waist, stopping her movements. He could remember the way she wailed for him, begging him to move as she scraped and tugged on her husband's arms.

But it did not prevail, because the young boy didn't quite understand why his mum was crying out to him so frantically.

He understood rather quickly though.

For suddenly a scorching pain ripped its way through his left arm, making him drop the flowers that were soon splattered with his blood. It had felt like molten lava was being poured down over him, his tiny body withering in pain.

He had been bitten by Fenrir Greyback that night, purely because the werewolf had wished to make his father hurt in unimaginable ways, and Remus was the solution for that.

It was a curse that he would wish on no one, it was like living but never being in control of yourself. Terrified to hurt another, paralyzed by the monster in your head. Remus told himself he got used to the looks, the way people judged him for something he could not control.

But the truth was, it was a battle that he faced every morning when he looked at himself in the mirror. Scars that traced over the pale of his skin, raised and jagged like the pieces of his heart.

It was the worst possible curse that one could be punished to deal with, and he prayed that nobody would ever have to feel the double-jagged sword that was being a werewolf.

But even Remus Lupin should know that life is never simple.

"Somebody help, I —," Harry's panicked voice carried like a siren throughout the walls of Grimmauld Place. But that wasn't the thing that made the male werewolf strike up from his seat in the kitchen, it wasn't the thing that made him drop his blue mug onto the floor below. It was the rich smell of blood that trailed to his nose, metallic and soar on the back of his throat. Mixed with the smell of another, the saliva of the man who inflicted the curse upon him.

His feet crunched on top of the glass as he ran out of the kitchen, only to come to a halt in the living room. The smell overwhelmed them, causing him to clasp his hand onto the doorframe as his ears rang. He was blindly aware of the way the wolf roared, anger radiating from it as his stomach clenched with bile.

"There's so much blood, what ... what do we do?" Harry's strained voice cut Remus back to reality as Sirius stood in the room above his godson, both of them staring down at the unconscious girl on the ground. Her blood pooled slowly into the grey carpet below her, her head twisted to the side with hair sticking to her skin.

Remus moved quickly, his eyes zooming in on her mangled leg as Harry had come to press his hands down onto her thigh. Hands that were full of crimson, seeping into his fingers as the young boy stared widely down at her. "She looks dead... she can't — she can't be-"

"She's not dead," Remus cut in, his words leaving his mouth quickly and sternly as he stood walking over towards the fireplace. Winnie Buldstrode was attacked, that much was sure, and with that, suddenly the wolf in his head had made it his job to see that she would survive, that she would be okay. Meaning, Remus would call the only person he knew that could help them now.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked urgently, his hands still pressed into her bleeding thigh as Sirius kneeled down, his discarded robe he wore being torn into two pieces.

"Wrap her wounds up, we have to stop bleeding," Sirius paused, swallowing thickly as his hand shook slightly. "She's losing too much blood."

Remus scoops up a handful of Floo Powder, throwing it into the fireplace before he kneels and sticks his head into the fire, yelling out a name and so place into the process. For a minute, he is lost swirling through time with his heart pounding in his chest, praying that they manage to at least slow the bleeding by the time he pulls his head out.

His vision clears as a living room appears in front of him, with a brunette female sitting back on her couch. Silk pyjamas are thrown over her legs with her hair tied messily on top of her head, tiny glasses perched on her nose as she jumps, startled by the fireplace.

"Remus! You—"

"Winona we need your help now, there's a girl here she's been," the male paused as Winona sat up higher, her eyes narrowing behind her glasses, a bright brilliant blue like her family. "She's been attacked by a werewolf, she's hurt badly, and I can't bring her to St.Mungos, you know they—"

"I'll be there right away, just let me get my potions kit okay, bring her to a table so I can see her when I get there," and with that, the woman races out of the room. Remus instantly pulls his head out of the fireplace, letting it die out in a puff of green while he swirls around on his knees, facing the two males who were still learning over the female. Or at least one was, Sirius was currently hurling up his guts in a ring bin.

"Winona will be here soon, we need to move her into the kitchen," Remus directed as Harry glanced up at his face, a sickly pale, he must have ran his hands down his face at one point, for blood was smeared over the left side of his cheek.

"Winona?" Harry questioned, stepping back as Remus directed him to. The male werewolf swooping down and picking up the injured female. Her body felt like a dead weight in his arms as her head lulled to the side, blood seeping down her face still.

"She went to school with us, she sometimes helped Remus when he gets injured particularly bad," Sirius explained, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, the sandy brunet nearly grimaced at the sight of blood across the males hands if it wasn't for the fact that the fireplace flared to life.

All three males turned towards it as a female appeared in a haze of green smoke. Pyjamas still dressed across her body, one hand holding onto a strap to a wide black bag. Winona sweeps her free hand across her pants, moving to step further in but install freezes when she notices them all staring there. Her face glows a flushed red, as she runs her blue eyes over each of them.

At least until they land on the bleeding female in Remus' arms. As if a switch was turned on inside of her, her face hardens, her shoulders square and her feet march forward.

"I thought I told you to have her on a table, not in your arms," she scolds, as the three quickly trail behind her into the kitchen. She waves her wand, flicking on the bright illuminated light above, she doesn't hiss or tsk as she steps on broken glass. Instead, she points to the middle of the table as she lays her kit down. "Put her there, now. I can't have everyone in here so—"

"I'm not leaving," both Sirius and Harry bark, their faces smeared with crimson and hands shaking like leaves. Remus' jaw locks as he lays Winnie down softly onto the table, being careful not to hit her wounds before he moves to the cupboard to grab a wide silver bowl.

"No offence, you look like you're about to throw up, and you're a child," Winona addresses from somewhere behind Remus, he thinks he hears Harry start to cut in, but all his mind is focused on is the dim heartbeat he can hear in the back of his mind. It's the reason why the wolf howls, the two halves of him can both sense that she's barely hanging on. That the blood that slowly trickles out of her wounds is more than anyone should lose.

Thump. Silence. Thump. Silence. Thump. Silence.

His hands curve into fists as he watches the bowl filled with water, steam curling into the air. Once the bowl fills high enough, he twists the faucet off, grabbing the bowl with calm fingers. He doesn't know how he does, but his hands barely shake, nor does his heartbreak as he catches the full sight of her for the first time.

Remus will later believe it was the thumping of her heart in his ear that manages to keep him calm.

Winnie Buldstrode's entire left leg is smeared crimson and brown, and near the start of her shoe starts the first injury. It's caked with mud and dirt, the pale of her skin unrecognized beneath the skin that lays ripped open. There's a muscle that pumps blood, it can be seen with your naked eye if you were to strain and gaze long upon it. Higher up, near the inner side of her thigh is another bite. Long and curved upwards, torn into the fabric of her shorts and matted together with crimson and skin that lays in shredded layers, hanging on by tiny strings.

It's her face that makes him sit down, she's almost unrecognized. Her entire face is smeared with her blood, blonde hair is dyed crimson where it stuck to her face and neck. It's the left side of her face, again that is mangled. The longest one starts at the tip of her hairline, running downwards over her eye and stopping just at the tip of her nose. The second one crossed it, starting at the tip of her eyebrow where he knows an old one starts, curving slightly and coming in contact with the longest one. The last, and smallest one runs down right beside it, just on the outside of her eye and stopping near the middle of her cheekbone.

"What happened?" Winona asked quietly as she began to dap the cloth softly on the blood smeared across the girl's skin. Remus glanced up at her, her eyebrows pinched downwards, her lip between her teeth as she concentrated. The male almost laughed at the question, because truthfully he had no idea what happened, he assumed she was upstairs.

"I have no idea, she was supposed to be upstairs, but," he trailed off, glancing down at her leg as Winona hissed. He watched as she dipped the cloth back into the bowl, the water swirling a crimson as she rang it out.

"Clearly she wasn't there," the brunette sighed, holding out her hand with the cloth in it. "Can you clean her face? I have to start laying out potions for when I wake her up." The male was in the middle of reaching for the cloth when he halted, green eyes widened as she stared over at him expentactly.

"Wake her up? Is that wise?" He questioned, alarmed as he inched closer to the unconscious girl. The wolf in his head stirred, growling at the idea of waking her and putting her through any more pain than she already was through.

"I have to, it's the only way I'll be able to give her the potions correctly, I can put her to sleep again after," Winona explained as the male nodded, taking the cloth from her hands and sitting back down in his chair. The warmth of the cloth seeped into his fingers as he inched his chair closer to Winnie's face.

Thump. Silence. Thump. Silence. Thump. Silence.

He reached up, dapping the cloth softly against the unharmed side of her face. Exposing the ghostly paleness of her skin, the way her eyebrows were pinched down slightly, almost as if she could still feel the pain that twisted through her veins. Placing one hand against the side of her face, he turned her face to the side slightly, the older male chewed on the side of his lip as he wiped away the blood around her wounds. They were deep, deep enough to sink far into her skin, deep enough to leave scars against her face when healed.

Remus never understood the bond a werewolf has with another. He had seen it during the first part of the war, made when Dumbledore sent him to try and convince packs to join their side. He had seen the way they would all watch after one another, the way older wolves would watch after the younger ones as if they were their children.

Someone had tried to explain it to him once when Remus had assumed a younger boy was his child. They had laughed, shaking their heads and said that the child wasn't there, at least not by blood. He never understood what that meant, at least not until now.

Not until he felt the swell of worry eat away at his bones, the way his heart rammed in his chest and he yearned to hear her heartbeat move faster. She was a new werewolf, bitten by the same person who cursed him as a child.

Perhaps he never understood it before, but now, he thinks he would do anything to make sure she always stayed alive.

"Oh my gods, that's Winifred," Winona gasped, as she came to stand across from him, wand in one hand with bottles of potions resting beside her. Remus glanced up, watching as the woman sucked in a breath, looking down at the blonde with a level of contorted pain.

"You know her?" He questioned quietly as he stood to place the cloth into the bowl, red water greeting it as it slowly soaked its way into the crimson stained white cloth.

"Yes, she's my niece's cousin," Winona explained as her finger slowly pressed into the side of Winnie's throat. "Cordelia, she ... they're inseparable, I imagine she would be glued to Winnie's side right now begging for her to survive if she knew." Her words left her lips strained, lacing with bitter emotion as she pulled her hands away, swallowing thickly as she glanced down at the potions. "It's time to wake her," she added, speaking stronger, Remus suspected she had swallowed whatever emotions threatened to pool to the surface at that moment.

"Okay, do ... Do you want me to hold her down?" Remus questioned hesitantly as he came to stand beside the table where Winnie still lay unmoving.

"That would be smart, I imagine she'll get a start when she awakes," Winona guessed as Remus nodded, sitting down around and placing his hands down against her forearms. Her skin froze against his like ice cubes, glossing over the callousness of his hands. The male sucked in a breath, straightening his shoulders as the brunette raised her wand above Winnie's chest.

"Ready?" She questioned, and before he could even think twice about it, the male nodded his head. "Enervate."

It happened instantly, the female's eyes shot open as she sucked in a sharp ragged breath. Her rate pierced a dangerously high rate, pupils blown so wide that only a rim of hazel could be seen. Her arms twisted, trying to fight just as a wince left her mouth, the bottom of her chin lay cut and bruised as her busted lip began to tremble. Winona had started to speak at the same time that the female let out a loud wail, her legs kicking, and her eyes looking wide around as if she was trapped in her mind, trapped running from the monster that tore her skin apart.

"Winnie, hey, shush," Remus started, reaching up and smoothing back pieces of her hair on the right side of her face. Forcing her to look at him, the girl twitched, as Winona swore from behind them. If Remus had to take a guess, it would be that her leg had started bleeding profusely again from her kicking it. "You're okay, he can't get you here, you got away, it's okay." He added in hush whispers as her heartbeats started to slow in his hair, her lips opened and sucking in sharp breaths of air.

"Remus?" She croaked, her voice crackling and breaking like she had spent the last twenty-four hours screaming at the top of her lungs. "I... I went to see Millie and," the female suddenly sucked in a sharp breath as her pupils widened again, broken lip trembling against her chin. "Everything hurts," she sobbed, tears welling in her eyes as her fingers reached up to dig into the skin on his wrist, causing him to grit his teeth. "Make it stop please... please make it stop, I," the girl broke off, as she sucked in sharp breaths, no longer able to stop herself from crying as the pain started to eat away at her muscles.

"Winona," Remus barked, looking over at the brunette who had come to stand by them, one bottle of potion in her hand.

"Lift her head so she can drink this," the girl ordered, leaning down as Remus nodded. Slowly, he moved his hand under the crying girl's head, he watched as Winnie gritted her teeth together, jaw kicking so furiously he was sure she would put it out of the socket.

"Winnie, you have to take this," he directed quietly as the girl shook her head, eyes squeezing shut as Remus breathed heavily out of his nose.

"Sweetheart, it'll take the pain away okay? Let me help you make it easier," Winona coaxed, reaching down to swipe at her brow which was filled with sweat that rolled down the darker brunette's head. The younger female snapped her eyes open at the sound of her voice, recognition trailing in her eyes as she nodded, allowing Remus to tilt her head upwards, her lips falling open as Winona poured the contents of the bottle in her mouth.

Instantly the girl almost gagged, her lips twisting into a scowl as Winona held her hand over her mouth. "You have to swallow, I know it's disgusting but swallow," the brunette directed, Remus watched as Winnie nodded, swallowing the liquid before Winona finally pulled her hand away.

"What did you give her?" Remus questioned as Winona snapped open another one, Winnie's eyes closed slightly. Her head rested back on Remus' hand as she took steady breaths between her nose.

"It was a healing potion, it should numb the pain she is feeling," the brunette explained as she came forward with another potion. "This is a blood remplimsher, I'll heal her wounds the best I can after this," she added as Remus lifted up Winnie's head again. The female winched, but opened her mouth all the same as the brunette poured the liquid down her throat.

Remus moved his hand out from under her head then, letting it rest softly on the table as Winona lifted her wand above the claw marks on the side of the blonde's face. For a minute, the tip of her wand glowed as the skin on her face slowly patched back together in jagged lines, bright pink and swollen.

Winnie's lips pressed into a line, her eyes staying closed as the brunette moved downwards towards her leg. Remus watches as Winnie reaches up to place her hands against her chest, her nails filled to the brim with matted dirt and blood covering her scrapped nails.

"I'm a werewolf now, aren't I?" She whispers it so quietly for a moment Remus isn't even sure she spoke at first, but it's the way her bottom lip trembles, the way a tear slips down into the jagged, raised flesh of her skin that makes him know that she did speak. And that no words could comfort her aching heart now.

The curse that paralyzed him, now ran through her veins, choking her dry and snagging its claws into her flesh and mind. Holding her captive, never to be broken, never to be freed.

END OF ACT ONE ///

ashley writes!
— anddd that's the end of the rewrites, we're gonna have an updating schedule now that's bi weekly starting from the first chapter of act two that i'll post!! thank you all for sticking out with me, i'm so excited to start this again <3