PROLOGUE
' the killing moon '

☾⋆₊✧

NOVEMBER
1981

IT wasn't supposed to end this way.

All alone. There should have been joy, relief, a sense of triumph in the air. The echoes of laughter, shared memories and unspoken dreams should have lingered, filling the spaces left behind by the war. But now there was only a hollow silence, as though the man's world itself was beginning to collapse.

Victory had come at a price. The weight was next to unbearable.

Everyone else you'd see was on the streets celebrating. Parties and feasts, flocks of owls, shooting stars in Kent, swapping rumours in the middle of the street in broad daylight. Everyone was out there doing something.

But lurking in the shadows, locked in a hollow house, Remus John Lupin was a mess.

The young man typically had a shabby look to him and the past two nights had only made it more apparent. Once soft eyes were now dulled and bloodshot. His skin was pale, almost ghostly, and his unshaven face was beginning to add to his unkempt appearance. The clothing hung more loosely than ever before to his hunched frame, as if he needed to lose any more weight. Liquor bottles were stacked on the side table, almost all empty. There was a weariness about him, about all he had suffered through as of late both externally and within.

He knew there would be casualties to this war. It was a given.

He just never expected it to be them.

Remus had lost all his friends. James, Lily, Wormtail, Marlene. And Sirius... Sirius was as good as. He would suffer in Azkaban for the rest of his life, as he so deserved. He couldn't even think about what that man had done to his friends, to his family. The betrayal cut too deep, and he couldn't seem to make sense of it. How could they have ever seen it coming? How could any of it have been stopped?

The trust they had shared, the years of friendship, it was all gone in a night. He felt nothing but sadness and grief, and rage. So much rage. Yet as much as he wanted to hurt Sirius and taint his memory, it was outweighed by the pain caused by the loss of him. He had been Remus' brother in every sense of the word but by blood, and now it felt as though it had all meant nothing.

With so many gone, Remus found himself haunted by the silence of the empty rooms, the absence of nearly every person who he'd ever cared for. They'd only been using the western English flat consistently for about a month now, but there were days so long ago where everyone in the Order had been here. Lily and Harry sleeping in one room, James plotting in another, Sirius smoking on the balcony, Peter probably off in the corner, and other members coming and going. They never stayed much in the same places at once but the flat was secure enough and when no one else could offer shelter, Remus found himself and his tiny family within these walls.

And it was damn miserable. Once he got his shit together, he'd never lay a foot in this flat ever again.

As he sat in the dim light of the sitting room, a crumpled Daily Prophet lay at his feet, written about three nights ago. He hadn't touched it since the owl dropped it off, and he'd barely moved from his spot in the corner. He'd been in the northern part of the country on Order business when he had heard the news. Didn't think it real at first, until he had come home and no one was there to greet him and everything was a mess.

The headline shouted about 'The Boy Who Lived' and all the triumph England was to have. James and Lily's son, now being reduced to an insignia. Poor boy had immediately been sent off to live with his mother's cruel family. Once Harry Potter was of age and aware of every danger that awaited him, the target on his back would be unavoidable and ever-growing.

From the other side of the room rang a sharp cry. The sound cut through the fog clouding his mind, but it still took him a moment to process what exactly it was. It felt so distant and it was hard to even think with the grief weighing down on his mind. But the cry only grew louder, more urgent.

His gaze slowly drifted to the wobbly crib she lay in— a child he never thought he would have and who had now become a reminder of all of his pain and loss. He'd been a parent for over a year and yet had no idea as of late of what he was doing with his daughter. He just couldn't bear to be around her for longer than a few minutes at a time.

How long had she been crying? Did it just start, or had he only now noticed it? Nothing felt real, and time didn't seem to be passing quite the same. He had been trapped in a haze, but the sharpness of her cry was finally breaking through. He blinked, as if waking up from a dream, and rushed to his feet. As quickly as possible he dizzily began to trek over to her.

There she was; his daughter. So tiny and fragile, skin sickly pale as always, her face scrunched up with need. He felt his heart clench, guilt rising inside his chest. She was so innocent, so unaware of the world's cruelty and all that had been done to her from prior to her birth up until now. But she needed him to act; she needed him now.

His hands trembled as he reached out to gently scoop her up before awkwardly cradling her in his arms. Her cries softened slightly, tiny frame relaxing to some degree.

If he could stay in this moment forever then he might have. But he knew it wasn't possible, and his grief and indecision could not restrain him no longer. She was here and she was real, alive and dependent. With her in his arms the world seemed to solidify again— though painfully. He couldn't let her suffer any more than he had already allowed. It was time to do what he had been dreading for days now.

Still holding her close, Remus scribbled on a piece of parchment, called the closest owl that had been roaming the night, and sent it off to go find the one person who would know what came next.

☾⋆₊✧

The night air was cool and still, with only the faint rustle of dead leaves breaking the silence as Remus trudged through the dark field, guided by the faint light of his wand. Far from the noisy celebrations in the heart of the city, this place was secluded enough, hidden behind a veil of shadows and forgotten streets.

The moonlight was filtering softly through the clouds surrounding it, casting faint shadows over the clearing. In the centre stood the old oak, gnarled branches stretching out as if they were protecting something. This place, just a while out from the edge of town, had once been a sanctuary. The one place where she and Remus started meeting after fourth year when they were on summer holidays, when the world felt much simpler and danger felt so far from home.

As the girl slept against his chest, Remus stared into the oak for a good minute, memories flooding his brain and warmth filling up his chest. For a moment he forgot all about the trance he was under, and remembered the joy he had felt when he was young and in love, with hopes and dreams.

He pressed his forehead to the oak and closed his eyes, basking in the peaceful silence that hadn't come to him in a while, trying to soak it in before it would be gone once more.

It faded all too quickly.

The crunch of a leaf behind him shattered the stillness. His eyes snapped open, and without thinking, he spun on his heel, angling his body so that his wand arm was extended forward, ready for whatever threat might emerge. Calista, cradled securely against his opposite shoulder, was tucked behind him, shielded by the curve of his body. His posture was instinctively protective— his wand poised to strike, while every movement kept his daughter out of harm's way. But as his brain processed what his eyes were seeing, he relaxed as quickly as he had tensed up at the sight of the person he had asked to meet with.

"Remus," the old man greeted him first, "it's good to see you."

Professor Dumbledore made near no sound when he moved, nor when he entered a room, much less a wide clearing at night. His quiet grace felt almost unnatural, an unsettling calm that seemed to sweep through the space before Remus had even registered his presence.

"Likewise, Headmaster." Remus' voice was quiet and strained due to not actually having used it in a few days. His eyes lingered on Dumbledore for a moment, taking in the older man's piercing gaze, before shifting towards the ground.

His blue eyes searched Remus' face, seeing the wear that had set into his features— deep lines of exhaustion and worry. "Time has not been kind to you, it seems," Dumbledore said gently, yet it was still edged with concern.

Remus would've laughed if he had had the energy to. "When has it ever?"

There was a beat of silence, the wind rustling through the oak tree's few leaves that were left, before Dumbledore spoke again. His voice was calm but direct, "I assume the purpose of this meeting is to talk about the recent developments?"

Remus inhaled sharply, his shoulders tensing. He nodded, but his voice faltered slightly. "Yes, indeed." He cleared his throat, attempting to shake off some of the unease. "I don't want to take up too much of your time. I know there are other," he gestured around, "important issues to be addressed."

"I will always make time for one of my students."

Remus gave a half smile. He hadn't been a student of Hogwarts in years but Dumbledore never stopped seeing him, or any of his former pupils in that way.

The wind whispered through the oak's branches above them, filling the silence with a soft rustle, like the past echoing around them. He took a deep breath before gathering his next words.

Remus' throat tightened, his resolve wavering as he glanced down at his daughter. She had been so quiet, her tiny breaths barely audible over the sound of the wind. "I can't do it, Professor," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I thought I could... I wanted to believe I could, but I'm not strong enough." His words tumbled out quickly, each one laced with guilt.

Dumbledore's expression remained calm, but there was a profound sadness in his eyes. "You've been through more than most men ever will. The scars of this war—"

"No, this isn't about the war," Remus cut him off, his voice rising slightly. "It's about her. Calista." He briefly glanced at his daughter, and Dumbledore's eyes followed. "She's cursed, Professor. I see it in her every day. She's not like other children, no, she... she was never going to be. Certainly not with me as her father." He paused just as he felt a lump forming in his throat. The next words that followed came out in a tremble. "I do love her, more than anything I've ever loved before. She's a piece of Celene and I, and nothing can ever change that."

"Miss Black would be ever so proud of the job you're doing so far."

Remus smiled, but it didn't last very long. Dumbledore took note of this shift and tried to meet Remus' eyes, though unsuccessfully. "But?" the Headmaster questioned.

He looked up at Dumbledore for the first time, his eyes hollow, his face lined with the exhaustion of all the battles he had fought through. "But...I can't stay with her," he confessed, the words barely more than a whisper.

"Ah," Dumbledore said, but his tone and facial expression were both unreadable. He offered neither comfort nor judgement, just quiet contemplation.

He must think little of me now, Remus thought. As if he already hadn't. Dumbledore was known for being kind and nonjudgemental, but he was also one of the only people who had first known about his own disease. He'd seen him through the better part of it. This sickness that had infected him when he was nearly as young as Calista. He knew he was a monster, and Remus knew what he was attempting to do now was only reinforcing that. He felt like one all the time, but now... he was something else unrecognizable. A deadbeat, unfit father, and worthless man.

The young man exhaled deeply, his chest heaving with burden. "You have to take her, we have to send her somewhere— anywhere. Leave her on a doorstep, bring her to an orphanage, something. But she can't stay with me. Not with everything I am. Not with everything she is."

Dumbledore's face softened, but his voice remained steady. "I cannot."

Remus immediately frowned. "What? Why?!" he snapped, all the frustration from the last while now bubbling to the surface. "Did you not just hear me? I can't—"

"I heard you loud and clear, Remus," he interrupted, his tone unwavering. It held an unyielding certainty. "You believe you cannot. But you will. You must. Sending her away solves nothing. She remains sick all the same. And no matter how you feel, your love for her is undeniable."

Remus clenched his fists, his breath shaky. He looked down at the ground, unable to meet Dumbledore's steady gaze, but the truth of the words hit him hard.

Dumbledore continued, his voice softer but no less firm. "One infant has already been orphaned and now will never know the love of his parents. Do you want Calista to suffer the same fate?"

Remus swallowed hard, his throat tight as the image of Harry— parentless, alone— flashed before his eyes. The thought gnawed at him, but it still wasn't enough to quell the storm in his mind.

"I am not so sure Celene would have wanted that either." Remus' voice was a quiet admission, almost to himself. His gaze shifted to Calista, bundled up in his arms, so unaware of the weight she carried. "If she didn't think this was possible, Calista would not be with us right now." He let out a long, slow breath, his words trailing off into the night, as though trying to convince himself as much as Dumbledore.

Remus' voice had dropped to a whisper, "It's not fair. If I was going to have a child then Celene would still be here. Everyone would be. I wouldn't be twenty-one and unemployed, turning into a monster every month, and she wouldn't have—" He stopped, choking on the words, the overwhelming truth of it all. "She wouldn't have been born just to die."

"It will never be easy, especially not at first. But Calista is all you have left. Don't you see? You must protect her."

Remus shook his head again, feeling the weight of his own inadequacies pressing down on him. "I can barely take care of myself, Professor. How can I care for her? How can I—" His voice cracked.

"You know of pain," Dumbledore continued, his voice steady, "and you know how to nurture it."

"For myself, maybe, but not for a growing human being."

"And were you not growing at one point, when you were first bitten? It's never that different. The curse that has been placed on her is near identical to your lycanthropy."

Remus flinched at the mention of his own curse, the memories of his childhood flooding back— isolated, afraid, trying to make sense of a life altered by something he couldn't control. He looked down at Calista, his grip tightening, the resemblance between them suddenly undeniable.

Dumbledore took a step closer. "You have the power to shape her future, Remus."

"But she's going to die," he responded, his voice barely audible. "It's her birthright."

"Yes." He looked down at the child with remorse. "But she doesn't have to live without your guidance. Your love."

Remus bit his lip, his chest heaving with the weight of his own self-doubt. "And what if it's not enough?"

Dumbledore's grip tightened, his voice soft but firm. "Love is always enough. And I believe, in time, you will see that. But if you walk away now, you will never forgive yourself."

Remus turned away, looking out into the darkness of the clearing, his heart aching with the depth of his uncertainty. "I'm scared. Scared that I'll fail her. Scared that she'll face something I won't be able to protect her from."

Dumbledore's voice was quiet, but it held a reassuring strength. "We cannot always protect the ones we love from the trials of fate. But we can walk beside them through it. That is the truest form of strength."

Remus closed his eyes, his breath trembling as he let Dumbledore's words sink in. He looked down at Callie, her tiny face peaceful in her sleep, completely unaware of the storm raging inside him. The thought of leaving her felt unbearable, but staying felt like a battle he wasn't sure he could win.

"I can't do it all alone," Remus admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. The weight of it all threatened to crush him. He had lost so many— his friends, his love— and the thought of facing the future without them was suffocating. There were all he had known for the last decade of his life.

Dumbledore's eyes softened, a rare warmth in his expression. "You won't be alone. Your world might have shrunk, but it's not gone." The words hung in the air, a lifeline that Remus hadn't realized he so desperately needed. He felt the tiniest flicker of hope, though the road ahead still felt impossibly long.

Remus nodded, not trusting his voice to say anything more. He glanced down at Calista, her tiny form nestled in his arms, and a deep breath escaped him. He still didn't know how he would manage, but Dumbledore's words had planted a seed— a belief that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't entirely alone in this fight.

"I apologize I cannot stay longer," Dumbledore said. Remus just shook his head, waving him off. He knew he had convinced him now. "I'll be seeing you, my boy." Dumbledore's voice was soft but carried the weight of finality. And with that, he disappeared into the night as quickly and quietly as he had arrived, leaving Remus standing in the clearing. Alone again— but perhaps not as lost as before.

He stood still for a moment, staring into the dark void where the older wizard had been. His heart felt heavy, conflicted between the burden of his decision and the faint hope Dumbledore had left him with.

Remus then shifted Calista in his arms, her small, fragile body pressing against his chest. For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to really look at her— her soft, pale skin, her delicate fingers curling and uncurling in her sleep. She was so impossibly tiny, so vulnerable. And yet, as he gazed at her, he realized that she was the only thing left tethering him to this world.

His mind was racing. Could he really raise her alone? Could he protect her, teach her to live through a similar pain that's plagued him since childhood? What if he failed her, like he felt he had already failed everyone else?

A tear slid down his face as he uttered, "I can't fix you."

It came out without thinking, without warning, though it was the truth. Of course the one-year old did not hear him and even if she would have, it wasn't as if she were sentient yet, much less able to understand English. Yet his heart broke all the same for her. One day when she was old enough, if she did reach the appropriate age, he'd tell her everything.

But for now, to keep some form of peace in her childhood, he would shield her from the cruel world they'd been forced into. For now and for the next while, they'd be safe.

He swallowed hard and stood straighter. There was a resolve starting to form in his chest. He couldn't abandon her. He wouldn't. Not now, not ever.

As the dawn broke through the remnants of the night, Remus took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of Calista's tiny hand grasped around his finger. Maybe, just maybe, she could be the light that he had been searching for that had always been lost, that he could never seem to hold on to for long enough. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, soft and shaky but an expression of his love nonetheless.

So Remus would bring her home, they'd make do with what they had, they would look towards the future.

And he would try to keep Calista Lupin alive for as long as he could.

a/n

if yk me, yk i had to make this prologue as dramatic as possible...

there's some backstory to my precious father and daughter duo. i love them and love writing them sm already, especially because they just remind me of my dad and i's dynamic (but we're in a way less depressing situation ofc). i hope i didnt make it too long or reveal too much 😅 but it's just how it best fit. i mean, we don't know WHY calista's been cursed or who did it, or what the story is with her mother. just was a quick peek into my take on remus post-war and IF he had a kid back then, what he would've done to keep her safe, even if it meant giving her up! (but thank god he didn't... right?)

no set date on updates yet because i am a full-time university student, but i do have lots of motivation for this story right now! i'm still working on the next few chapters but i wanted to get the prologue out so readers have an idea of whats to come :)

do you guys agree with remus' decision to keep calista in the dark? how is it going to come back to haunt them in the future? stay tuned!!

p.s. sign off gif for this book is by bae tisiix 😝