I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell -- Fall 1967

I was in my bedroom organizing it.  I was tired of all the clutter.  In all honesty, I hardly ever had clutter anymore.  I always kept things really clean and organized.  It was the only thing I felt like I could control.  Being bitten by a werewolf... I could not control anything else.  My bedroom was the first room I was tackling.  I wanted to make sure everything that impacted me was under perfect conditions... well, at least the things I could control.  I heard a light tap on my bedroom door and I turned around and smiled at my dad the best that I could.  "Morning," I said to him, finishing tucking my sheet around my bed neatly.

I was worried about my son.  Remus went through far too much already -- every single month.  And then there was Hope who wanted nothing more than a good childhood for her son... every full moon broke her heart as much as it did mine.  And we were not the ones going through it; what were these transformations doing to Remus?  I was so used to him being so adventurous and full of life.  As of late, he had been getting more and more wrapped up in his books -- more so than he ever had before.  And then all of this started:  the over organization, the complete obsessiveness to have things just so...  It made sense, though.  The rest of his life had turned inside out -- because of me -- and this was all he could control.  I was just worried that it was moving to the extreme.

"Good morning, Remus," I said to him cheerily.  I was not going to show my worry to him; it would only cause more stress to my boy.

"Is breakfast ready?  I'm rather hungry," I said to my dad, making sure the sheets were just right.  I backed away from my bed and then turned towards the door where Dad was.  He was looking around my room and I turned, looking things over.  "What is it?  Everything looks good to me."  My room was practically spotless.  It was perfect.  And I had control over that.  I loved it.

<< edit John's and send to Hope >>

I smiled.  "It's... lovely, Remus," I said to my seven year old son.  It looked nothing like his room used to look:  messy and never able to find a bloody thing.  But he had been young, it was acceptable.  He was still young, but for the past two years... his beautiful chaos seemed to be fading.  And this was more proof that his innocence was gone.

Putting a hand on Remus's shoulder, I sighed.  "Ah, yes, breakfast.  Your mum is just finishing things up now," I said.  She was making Remus his favorite breakfast like she always did the morning before the full moon.  Today would be rough.

I always tried to make sure that Remus had enough to eat the day before and the day after the full moon.  He was always so tired and I wanted him to have his strength.  Well, not the strength to plow through any protection charms that his father put over the room we kept him in these nights.  I finished making the french toast and special cinnamon-butter spread that I always made to go with it.

"Boys?  Breakfast," I called down the hall.  "Get it while it's hot!"  I poured Remus some apple juice -- his favorite -- and then some coffee for me and John.  We would be needing it because we hardly slept at all during full moons.

I went down the stairs and found Mum putting my favorite onto a plate:  french toast and cinnamon butter spread. "thank you," I said to her, taking a drink of the apple juice.  "You don't need to do this, though."  I dug right in, but made sure she knew that she did nto need to do such things for me; I was just me... a monster.  I did not deserve special treatment.

"You're welcome," I said to him, knowing that it was not at all unimportant.  "You know that I love doing anything I can."  I gave John a kiss again and then I sat down to dig right into the breakfast with my hungry boy.

I sat down and started to eat breakfast as well.  "I'm surprised we don't have to tell you to pick up your toys and clothes," I commented to my son.  I had been noticing different things for quite some time.  Hope told me not to fret and to leave it be, but I could not.  There had to be a reason.

I ate silently for a moment before answering my dad.  "Oh, well, I just wanted to be clean," I said to him, shrugging.

I looked between Remus and John.  "Honey, I'm very pleased that you cleaned your room without us asking," I said.  I gave my husband a pointed look.  I did not want to press the matter at breakfast.  I knew what John was getting at, however, because we had spoken of the changes in our son.

I knew that Hope was trying to put the positive spin on this, but I was extremely worried.  "Of course it is," I agreed, trying to be more like my wife.  "When we're done eating we can always go outside and take a walk or something..."

I shrugged.  "Yeah, okay," I said to my dad.  I knew that he was trying to get me to have more fun, but I wished I had friends.  I loved my parents to death; it just was not the same as having proper mates.

"Maybe tonight we can play some gobstones or something of the sort?" I suggested, knowing that Remus enjoyed the Wizard games as much as Muggle games.  "Or perhaps Old Maid?"  I had to throw in a Muggle card game, too.

I groaned when Hope tossed in the suggestion of Old Maid.  That game just was not so entertaining to me.  "Whatever you want, Remus," I said, though I tried to tell him with my expression naything other than Old Mia.d

My eyes lightened up.  "Perhaps we could play that one board game?  Clue?" I suggested.  That game needed logic and whatnot so I felt like I was thinking quite a lot while having fun.