The rhythmic screeching of the barrels front wheel became a comforting sound over time. It needed to be oiled, but every time Remus thought about it, he was already in the middle of doing something else, and by the time he had a break to do something about it, he'd forgotten. Such was the cycle of the last few months until he no longer cared to fix it.

He turned the barrel on it's side, adding it's contents to a growing pile of manure. The mid afternoon sun beat heavy drops of sweat onto his forehead. He wiped them away with the back of his hand as he let out a deep sigh. Exhaustion struck the middle-aged man with a vengeance as he took a seat on a block of hay. He let the feeling flood in, knowing there was no point in fighting it. The full moon was a day away and his whole body ached with anticipation. After all these years, the werewolf still could not control it.

Remus sighed again, his head falling into his palm as his eyes closed. One minute. He just needed one minute before he could finish with the job and head home. One minute passed too quickly, and his body protested with each movement, but the former Gryffindor wasn't one to slack off. He only had an hour left on the farm and he needed the money.

Living in the muggle world was decidedly better for the werewolf. He had tried for years after the war, after the death of his friends and family, to find a steady job in the magical world, but the stigma of being a werewolf followed him everywhere. In the end, he had to turn to the muggle world to sustain himself, but even that wasn't easy. He was a smart wizard, but he'd never been educated in the muggle world, and he couldn't control when the next full moon would arise, so he could never find a permanent job. Every few months, Remus would bounce between jobs, sticking mostly to physical work with part-time hours to avoid suspicion when he would disappear for a few days and come back with fresh scars.

He didn't mind it so much in the end. The muggle world gave him anonymity. The physical work kept him distracted from his thoughts. It wasn't all bad, but he missed the wizarding world if he were being honest. Though there was little left in that world for him, his heart always belonged to it. Perhaps that was why he chose to live in an apartment so close to Diagon Alley, though he rarely ventured over. It kept him close, and on particularly bad full moons he still had access to potions that helped ease the pain. He could never afford the Wolfsbane potion, so he still suffered the full moons as a fully fledged werewolf, but there was some relief with small healing potions every now and then.

So life wasn't that bad altogether. There was routine, which Remus enjoyed immensely, and he still kept his eyes on the going ons in the wizarding world. He was content as he was, which is why he wasn't exactly thrilled when Dumbledore showed up at his apartment that evening as he returned home.

The man looked as he had twelve years ago. A long white beard reached done to his stomach, a twinkle flashed in his bright blue eyes, and the very same spectacles he'd worn over a decade previously sat precariously on the edge of his nose. There was no mistaking the man at his door, just as there was no mistaking the feeling of dread that washed over Remus. He knew why Dumbledore was there. How could he not? The news of an escaped convict from Azkaban was everywhere, both wizarding and muggle worlds. Sirius Black had escaped a week ago, and Remus had been doing everything in his power to not think about it. That was about to be ruined.

"Evening Dumbledore," Remus greeted, not unkindly. Despite everything, Remus had always been fond of the man before him. He was, after all, the reason Remus had been able to attend Hogwarts as a child. He was the reason Remus had a childhood at all.

"Ah, Mr. Lupin. I'm glad I found the right place. For being so close, you were rather hard to track down," he responded, bowing his head slightly in greeting as he stepped through the doorway. All of a sudden, Remus felt like he was a schoolboy again in front of the magnanimous form of Albus Dumbledore. He felt a slow wave of failure inch along his body as he looked over at the man. His apartment was entirely too small. The only distinction between where the living room ended and the kitchen started was a change from carpeting to tiling. It took all of five small steps to leave one and enter the other. He had no door to close off his bedroom, just an archway, and there was only enough room for his bed and a single dresser inside. It was smaller than the dorms had been at Hogwarts, and it felt like a shoebox with Dumbledore inside.

"Would you like something to drink?" he offered, too aware of the fact that all he could offer was some tap water. He hadn't gone shopping in over two weeks, and if Dumbledore cared to look inside the refrigerator, all he would see was half of a leftover sandwich and some strawberries that were probably starting to mold.

"I'm fine, thank you. I don't expect to be long." Dumbledore conjured up a chair and took a seat. Remus felt his cheeks redden slightly as he pulled him his lone kitchen chair for himself.

"I haven't seen him," Remus sputtered finally, his eyes drifting to the old man, a fiery look burning behind them. "I'd kill him if I did." The truth to the statement was something Remus didn't realize until he'd uttered the words. Twelve years had passed, but the anger had been boiling just beneath the surface the whole time. Sirius Black deserved a slow and torturous death.

"That is not why I am here." Shock registered on Remus' face. "At least not directly."

Remus' eyebrows furrowed slightly. Why was he here then? If not to get every piece of knowledge he could about Sirius Black out of him? Surely the thought had crossed the older man's mind. Remus and Sirius had been best friends for nearly ten years. If anyone had a clue as to where the prisoner would have escaped to, he would know it. Yet, Remus didn't. He didn't know Black anymore. The Black that he knew never would have done what he did.

"I am here to offer you a job."

"What?" Remus questioned, letting the man's words sink in. "A job?" Surely that couldn't be the reason Dumbledore was sitting in his apartment at six o'clock on a random Thursday evening.

"Yes," Dumbledore stated. "It seems I am in need of a Defense teacher."

"But - why?" Remus eyed him suspiciously, his heart hammering against his chest. "I'm not qualified."

"Oh, Mr. Lupin, please do not sell yourself so short," Dumbledore chuckled lightly. "You are more than qualified for the job." The laughter in the older man's eyes died down as Remus continued to look at him curiously, waiting for an answer to his question. "Given recent developments, I believe you are the only person qualified."

Reading between the lines, Remus slowly comprehended what the professor was saying. There were rumors about why Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban. Rumors that Remus hardly had the time to contemplate before now. "But, Professor -"

"Albus, if you please."

"But, Albus, you cannot." He paused, trying to find the words. "No one will agree to this...to someone like me teaching children."

"I have already discussed this with the faculty, and everyone is on board." Remus couldn't help but notice the brief pause in Dumbledore's words. Not everyone had consented, the man could tell, but no one dared to fight Dumbledore when his mind was set on something.

"Still, I can't." His mind whirled with all the things that could go wrong. He'd be putting the children in danger. He barely made it through school without harming his classmates. He couldn't put kids at risk like that again. He wasn't a naive schoolboy anymore. He knew the dangers all too well, and he couldn't risk that. "I'm sorry Professor. I can't do what you're asking of me."

A small, sad smile spread across Dumbledore's lips. "You can," he assured Remus. "I have already made arrangements. There is no need for you transform into a fully fledged werewolf while at Hogwarts." The Wolfsbane potion. It was a horribly complicated and expensive potion to make. How was Dumbledore going to arrange access to it?

"But-"

"It is already done." His words were final, and Remus had little power to say no. "You will teach Defense Against the Dark Arts and each month you will be given the Wolfsbane potion." Remus sighed, his head bowing the slightest bit in agreement, and that was all Dumbledore needed.

With a curt nod, Dumbledore stood and flicked his wand. The chair disappeared in the blink of an eye. "I'll see you in September then." And he left Remus alone with his thoughts.