theatrical_muse: Write page 57 of your 300-page autobiography.
[stray piece of parchment left inside a leatherbound journal]
The day the owl came, I was not sure what to make of it. After all, it was not something that was supposed to happen. I had already forced myself to face that reality, and my parents had as well. Mum had started to teach me what she could so I could have an education; Dad would get me books that could help as well.
I was accepted, however. The letter said very clearly that I, Remus John Lupin, had been accepted to Hogwarts.
Oddly enough, being accepted was not the most problematic aspect of the whole situation. My parents became frightened that people would find out about what I really was. They were scared, and rightfully so, that I would hurt someone one night because the school was not responsible for my transformations. They didn't have to be, and it would be unfair of us to expect them to be. At ten years old, though, that part was hard to completely understand. A part of me did know that it was safer to stay at home, and that that was the best course of action, but I wanted an education. I wanted to go to Hogwarts. I wanted, quite desperately, to have a bit of the life that I had been robbed of. I wanted to be more than just a dark creature. I wanted to be a wizard.
In the middle of the summer another surprise came. One that was bigger than the owl flying towards our house - one that none of us could have ever predicted. One night, shortly after dinner, we received a visit
The day the owl came, I was not sure what to make of it. After all, it was not something that was supposed to happen. I had already forced myself to face that reality, and my parents had as well. Mum had started to teach me what she could so I could have an education; Dad would get me books that could help as well.
I was accepted, however. The letter said very clearly that I, Remus John Lupin, had been accepted to Hogwarts.
Oddly enough, being accepted was not the most problematic aspect of the whole situation. My parents became frightened that people would find out about what I really was. They were scared, and rightfully so, that I would hurt someone one night because the school was not responsible for my transformations. They didn't have to be, and it would be unfair of us to expect them to be. At ten years old, though, that part was hard to completely understand. A part of me did know that it was safer to stay at home, and that that was the best course of action, but I wanted an education. I wanted to go to Hogwarts. I wanted, quite desperately, to have a bit of the life that I had been robbed of. I wanted to be more than just a dark creature. I wanted to be a wizard.
In the middle of the summer another surprise came. One that was bigger than the owl flying towards our house - one that none of us could have ever predicted. One night, shortly after dinner, we received a visit