Over thirty years ago, Lyle Lupin was still working for the Ministry of Magic.
As a jury member in a werewolf murder trial, he repeatedly pushed for the suspect's continued detention and insisted on conducting a thorough investigation.
But his firm appeals were met only with indifference and impatience from the other jury members, who simply wanted to finish quickly and collect their pay.
Werewolves were taboo—plagues. No one wanted to provoke them, and no one wanted to deal with them.
The wizarding world had no means to control werewolf transformations, and at that time, advanced developments like the Wolfsbane Potion had not yet been invented.
Back then, no matter the circumstances, once someone was branded a werewolf, there was no hope of recovery.
Lyle firmly believed in this at the time.
During that trial, Lyle angrily pointed toward the defendant, whose timid expression was just convincing enough to fool the room."You're all blind if you can't see it!" he snapped, slamming his palm on the table with a sharp BANG!The room flinched."Look at him. He's acting. His story doesn't line up, his timeline is full of holes, and he refuses to explain where he was during the attack. This man is the werewolf we're looking for."
According to him, all werewolves, being dangerous, soulless beasts, should all be hunted down and imprisoned.
One of the bored jury members sighed.
"Lyle… we've been at this for hours. There's no proof. Let's wrap this up."
"Wrap this up?" Lyle exploded. "A child is dead! And you'd rather get home early than make sure the killer is caught?"
However, the accusation was ultimately dismissed due to "insufficient evidence."
The werewolf, relying on superb acting to maintain innocence—and aided by the jury's careless negligence—walked out of the solemn courtroom while Lyle could only watch helplessly as the killer left unpunished.
But what happened next sealed itself into his memory forever.
After exiting the Ministry doors, Lyle saw a Ministry official escorting him. Unhappy with the events of today, he subconsciously followed them.
But as soon as they reached near the Knockturn Alley.. Lyle watched as the acquitted man paused beside the official escorting him.
The werewolf leaned close—too close.
Then came a sickening CRACK!
The official collapsed, blood blooming across his robes.
The werewolf's eyes flashed yellow in the dim corridor light. He gave Lyle a cold, knowing grin—and then vanished into the shadows with a swift WHOOSH, gone before anyone else realized what had happened.
The Ministry scrambled to contain the news. The next day, the Daily Prophet published a tiny, sanitized article about an "accidental death during transport."But Lyle knew.
A few nights later, under a full moon, four-year-old Remus was jolted awake by the sound of shattering glass—CRASH!!!
Fenrir Greyback tore through the bedroom window in a spray of shards.
"H-Huh? W-What? A Werewolf!!!" Remus's terrified scream split the night.
Amid the child's heart-rending screams, the werewolf's vicious curse was carved deep into Remus Lupin's small body.
Across the house, Lyle jerked awake. "Remus?"
Another scream.
Lyle bolted upright. "REMUS!"
Lyle rushed in at the sound.
A burst of red light grazed Greyback's shoulder. The werewolf snarled, leapt onto the windowsill, and vanished into the dark with a horrible, triumphant howl.
After managing to drive the werewolf back with several sharp spells, he looked at Remus with trembling eyes...
It was already too late.
Under the moonlight, his son's tiny body was covered in horrific, bone-deep wounds.Remus whimpered weakly, blood spreading across the sheets.
Lyle's breath stuttered. His knees buckled.
His heart plunged instantly into an icy abyss.
He understood—with terrible clarity—that without a miracle, every full moon for the rest of this child's life would tear him apart and force him into a monstrous transformation—reviled and hunted by all.
From then on, their lives fell into an abyss no different from Muggle families afflicted with incurable illness.
Work became unsustainable, and their livelihood grew increasingly desperate.
Little Remus had to be hidden at home, while his parents exhausted themselves searching for ancient spells or folk remedies that might break the curse; every faint spark of hope they found eventually collapsed into deeper despair.
The neighbors' probing gazes felt like thorns in their backs, and whispers spread through streets and alleys.
So they began an endless cycle of moving—fleeing from one remote town to another even more remote.
Little Remus's childhood was immersed in pain and loneliness.
Yet under Lyle's strict tutelage, he absorbed far more magical knowledge than his peers; and under his wise, gentle mother's warm care and patient guidance, he grew up well-read, soft-spoken, and humble.
A turning point came when Remus was eleven years old.
Professor Albus Dumbledore personally visited the dilapidated wooden house where they were hiding.
The wise old man extended a helping hand to the desperate parents, offering young Remus the chance to study at Hogwarts.
In that moment, a long-awaited ray of dawn finally pierced the heavy clouds that had hung over their family for years.
Lyle Lupin's family was able at last to begin living a somewhat stable life.
Now, the giggling brown-haired boy in the photograph had long since been tempered by the full moon's curse into a weathered adult wizard.
After graduating from Hogwarts, he drifted through the world like rootless duckweed.
Lyle knew all too well how hard his son's life had been.
Remus's letters of reassurance were always written on the cheapest scraps of parchment.
Every word carried an unshakable weariness, and between the lines lay a careful, heartbreaking distance.
Lyle urged his son to return again and again—even if only for a short visit.
But Remus always stubbornly refused.
He was afraid.
Afraid that the uncontrollable savagery of the full moon would break free.
Afraid it would bring disaster upon his aging father.
His identity as a werewolf was a brand—one that isolated him from the normal world.
A stable, respectable job?
That was nothing but a fantasy.
All he could do was drift from one low-paying temporary job to the next, struggling desperately just to survive.
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