Observations from the 83 Bus Stop
"Remus John Lupin was a man on a mission. He was going to find his pseudo-nephew, Harry Potter, if it killed him." Why was it that Remus Lupin never tried to contact with Harry, his last link to his best friends, before becoming his Defence Against the Dark Arts professor? A one-shot story to explain his absence. A little mean to Dumbledore, I'm afraid. Mostly canon-compliant.
Anything you recognise isn't mine.
Monday 2nd November, 1981
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland
Twenty-one year old Remus Lupin sprinted through the corridors of Hogwarts, easily outrunning his would-be escort, Hagrid ("Wai' there, Remus! I'm s'posed to accompany ye to Perfessor Dumbledore's office door! Ye don' know 'is password is Fizzin' Whizzbees!"). His pulse pounded in his ears, though his breaths came steady; months of fighting in the war, combined with his lycanthropy, gave him an uncommon level of stamina. He desperately fought, ultimately failing, to keep control of his emotions; it was unusual for his Occlumency to fail him like this, but not unexpected, given what had happened. He yelled the password that Hagrid had blurted out as soon as he was within earshot of the gargoyle and took the spiral stairs two at a time.
"Where is he?" roared Remus, striding up to Professor Dumbledore's desk and slamming his hands down on the polished surface. "Where's Harry, Professor?"
"He's safe, Remus. He's perfectly safe, and in the interests of security, that's all you need to know." Albus Dumbledore looked up at Remus over his half-moon glasses, blue eyes twinkling. He showed no sign that he had been startled by Remus' sudden appearance.
"Damn it, Dumbledore, don't give me that rubbish. I know Lily and James named me as a potential guardian. In whose care have you left him?" he spat.
"Calm yourself, Remus," said Dumbledore, raising a hand. His eyes still twinkled, but a steely edge crept into his expression as he regarded the angry young man in front of him. "Your anger will do you no good."
Remus was angry, yes, but underneath his anger he was distraught. He loved that little boy as if he were his own flesh and blood. He snarled.
"Circumstances have changed, Remus. In any case, you were out of touch with Lily and James these last few months. Perhaps their desires had changed in that time. Suspicion was rife, after all. Harry is safe, under powerful wards that would not be possible outside of his current living arrangements, and he will grow up free from the pressures of fame. He will be famous, Remus, you realise that. Normalcy, and protection. That is what he needs. And for that he must be away from the Wizarding World."
"I could protect him! Give him a normal life – I know how to live in the muggle world, my mother was a muggle, you know that! I'm the closest to family he's got left." He paused. "Hang on, what do you mean, perhaps their desires had changed? Hasn't their will been read, if you've already placed with guardians?"
Dumbledore sighed. "Remus," he began, in a gentler but still firm tone. "You have no stable employment. You have no one to support you. And living with you would present its own dangers, as you well know. Who would care for Harry when you are unavailable? Would you really put Harry at risk of suffering the same fate as yourself? Until there is some kind of cure developed, you would be a danger to him at every full moon. Furthermore, the Ministry would not allow it. If you pushed for the will to be read – you still would not be allowed guardianship. I've had the will sealed for good reason, Remus. It is for the greater good. Do you not trust my judgement?"
Remus wrenched his hands away from the desk and pushed them roughly through his hair. "Please, Professor," he said, his anger ebbing away, despair becoming evident instead. "Maybe you won't let him live with me, but can't I at least visit him?"
A sympathetic expression crossed Dumbledore's face, but he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Remus. The wards are already set. I do not wish to compromise them by adding loopholes. And truly, it is better this way. A clean break. Perhaps, when he re-enters our world, contact could be established…"
Remus didn't stick around to hear any more. He bolted from the office. He ran through the corridors, heedless to where he was going, letting his feet take him along on autopilot, until his legs gave out and he sank to the ground. His eyes burned with unshed tears, and a low moan of grief tore from his throat.
"Mr Lupin?" said a sharp voice in a familiar Scottish brogue.
He looked up. Professor McGonagall was frowning down at him, looking quite taken aback by his presence. He tried to speak, but no words came. Instead, he sobbed, tears spilling down his cheeks as he rocked back and forth.
"Mr L-" Professor McGonagall began, then stopped. Her heart clenched a little as she looked down at the crying man, barely more than a boy still, in mourning for his friends, so full of distress. "Remus…" she said in a much softer tone. She placed a hand under his elbow and helped him to his feet with surprising strength. "Come, come with me…we'll go to my quarters, come along now…" She steered him back along the corridor, through her outer office and into her sitting room. She did not release his arm until he was ensconced in a comfy armchair by the fire. She prepared a tea tray, but seemed to reassess what was needed after another glance at Remus shivering in her chair, and turned to her cabinet for a bottle of Ogden's, from which she sloshed a generous measure into each teacup. She passed a cup to Remus and they each took a gulp. She looked over at him sympathetically.
"He's all I've got left, Professor!" Remus burst out before she could say anything. "James, Lily, and Peter are all dead. Sirius in Azkaban – though he deserves it. My Dorcas…" he shuddered. "Did you know we were stepping out, Professor? Dorcas Meadowes and I? We bonded after the last Greyback incident. I'd fetched my mother's ring from my vault. And she was gone before I could ask her. My Dorcas, til just a few weeks ago…And now he's taking away the very last piece of my heart! It may as well all have been for nothing, for I have nothing left! He won't even let me see Harry! There's nothing left for me now!" He dissolved into tears once more.
"Oh, Remus…" sighed McGonagall. It pained her to see one of her old charges in such anguish. "Please don't feel you are alone in the world. Perhaps it is not much comfort, but I am here for you, as I was through your Hogwarts years, and especially after your mother's passing." Remus bowed his head, and accepted her grasp of his hand as comfort, squeezing hers briefly in return. She has been almost a mother figure to him, and he felt suddenly that it was rather selfish of him to forget her kindness and affection. "And Harry, though he is out of your reach for now, is alive, and safe from any of You-Know-Who's supporters still at large. I wish I could help. I didn't want him to go to them, either. I objected most strongly, but Albus overruled me. Perhaps in a few years, Albus will be able to lift the protections… I can't think that he would keep you away once the danger has passed."
"Oh, he means to, I can assure you! Do you know where he is, then? Please, Professor, at least tell me who has him!"
"He's wi…he…" Professor McGonagall frowned. "I can't," she said in a strained voice.
"Please, Professor, I need to know"
"I want to, I really want to help," Professor McGonagall made a choking sound and grasped at her throat. "Can't!" she gasped.
Remus gaped at her. She must have been magically bound to keep the secret. "It's OK, Professor. I understand, don't struggle any more. Do you know where he is?"
Professor McGonagall nodded, then looked confused, then shook her head. "No, not the exact location. It must be the wards."
"Is there anything that you can tell me?"
Professor McGonagall frowned in concentration. "F-f-fam-mily," she gasped out.
"Family – but he doesn't – outside the magical – no. No. Not Petunia? You cannot be serious!" he yelled, anger rising again.
Professor McGonagall looked distressed, breathing hard with the effort of working round the binding. Remus took a few calming breaths and placed a hand on her arm in silent apology for his outburst. "No, it's not your fault. You couldn't have stopped Dumbledore from doing what he thinks is best."
They had another cup of tea, after which Remus had calmed down some and Professor McGonagall had recovered. An elf was called to provide food, though neither had much of an appetite. They spoke for some time, cried together for lost friends, until the hour grew late and the tears dried up. When Remus stood to leave, the professor rose with him and walked him to the doors of the castle.
"Well, good night, Professor. And thank you." Remus shuffled his feet, unsure quite how to say goodbye. A handshake felt too formal. McGonagall made the decision herself and stepped forward to hold Remus briefly in a motherly embrace. He returned her hug.
"Good night, Remus. And good luck. Please stay in touch. I will be here for you. And I think, under the circumstances, it would be acceptable for you to call me Minerva."
Wednesday 3rd August, 1983
Wisteria Walk, Little Whinging, Surrey
Remus John Lupin was a man on a mission. He was going to find his pseudo-nephew, Harry Potter, if it killed him. He didn't have much to go on. He'd discovered from public records that Harry's only living non-magical relative, Petunia Evans – Lily's muggle, and as far as he remembered, magic-fearing, sister – had married a man named Vernon Dursley. They'd had a son, Dudley, just over a month before Harry's birth, born in Lily's home town. It was entirely possible that he had been welcomed into this family and was growing up surrounded by love…but Remus doubted it. Lily hadn't talked about her sister much; in fact, since they'd become estranged in the last few years of Lily's life, she'd barely even said Petunia's name. But from what he remembered of Lily's stories about Petunia, he couldn't imagine Harry was welcomed with open arms. Still, if he could see for himself that Harry was well cared for, he could rest a little easier. Unfortunately, he'd hit a dead end rather quickly, as it seemed that these particular Dursleys' telephone number was not in the telephone book. He'd checked every possible number, but had been unsuccessful.
He vaguely remembered Lily mentioning that Petunia had moved "down South" after she married, but this didn't narrow it down much. He'd been trawling the streets of southern England for nearly two years now without success, doing odd jobs like pot washing in muggle pubs and restaurants in the evenings, but he'd struck gold a few days ago, on Harry's birthday of all days. He'd been getting local newspapers from all over the south for months, but on 31st July the Surrey Post ran a story about a local company, Grunnings, who had donated money for a children's play area in a suburb called Little Whinging. The article mentioned one of Grunnings' directors – one Vernon Dursley – who live in Little Whinging with his wife – Petunia – and son – Dudley. Remus couldn't believe his luck. It had to be them. So off he went to Little Whinging, and began to search the streets, determined anew to find where Harry had been hidden away from the magical world. He strode down another depressingly uniform street (Wisteria Walk? Who comes up with these names? He thought wryly), completely focussed on his task of going back the other way, as he had something important to attend to…wait, what?
Remus stopped abruptly a few strides after he turned around. What had just happened? Where was he going? He needed to find Harry. He turned back and tried to continue, only to find himself doing a u-turn again with a sense of urgency. His heart began to race – this was it. This was where Harry was hidden. Concentrating on keeping his Occlumency barriers at full strength, he walked slowly forward…
Dear Minerva,
I think I've found the location. I'll keep you posted.
I hope you are well and enjoy the rest of your summer.
Remus
Monday 5th September, 1983
The 83 Bus Stop, Rosebush Row (Opp. Privet Drive), Little Whinging, Surrey
Remus' joy at finding where Harry had been sequestered was short-lived. He had tried, with increasing frustration, to push through the outer layer of the wards; he was not successful. Even with his Occlumency at full power – and his Occlumency was strong, it had to be in order to keep his secret hidden while at Hogwarts – he was unable to set foot past the outer reaches of the wards. All he'd managed to glean was that the outermost ward was double layered – confusion and magic-repelling, presumably keyed to Harry so it would allow him free passage – and that any other wards protecting Harry (which there had to be, of course) were inside these ones, meaning he couldn't even get an idea of what they were. The only other thing he knew for certain was that they were Dumbledore's wandwork – if the strength didn't give it away, Remus had been able to detect Dumbledore's magical signature briefly when he pushed in just enough and before the effects of the wards got past his mental shields. As far as he was concerned, that was all the proof he needed – Harry was here.
He'd skirted round the edge of the ward, trying to work out its central point, and after several days of walking, being repelled, and consulting an A to Z map of the local streets, he worked out that the centre of the wards was almost certainly somewhere on a road called Privet Drive. Remus spent a couple of weeks attempting to observe the area – occasionally finding himself hurrying away if he strayed too close to the ward boundary – and concluded that most foot traffic from Privet Drive came through this end of the road. This was the direction of most of the small town's amenities, except for the local park, as well as several bus shelters like the one he sat under now. This particular stop was the closest he could get to the wards without getting the effects. So day after day, he sat here for as long as he was able; watching, waiting, hoping for a glimpse of Harry. A low powered notice-me-not charm was enough to prevent the local muggles paying him any mind; it wouldn't convince a magic user, but he could maintain it for some time with little effort, and this had to be the most mundane muggle area Remus had ever seen. He'd not sensed another magical being for the entire time he'd been here.
Today was the first Monday in September. The start of a new school year. He was not working today, and as had become his routine he intended to spend much of his day here. Children in new school uniforms accompanied by their harried-looking parents bustled past him, though they didn't register his presence. Would Harry be among them? No, he thought. Harry was only just three. Too young, surely.
Time passed slowly. This was not a busy town, and he often found himself completely alone. Around noon, two people – an adult and a small child – came into view at the far end of the road. Remus sat up, squinting down to look at them. He slumped down dejectedly when he realised that it was a woman and a little girl with a cloud of curly hair. Not Harry. His eyes slid back to his book. He looked up again when he became aware of a slight commotion between the two – the little girl tugging away from her mother, trying to cross the road or go back the way they came. She broke free of her mother's hand and dashed across the road, then stopped, looking almost like she was frowning. Her mother caught up with her, grabbing her hand once more, clearly scolding her.
"I don't know why I did it, Mummy," he heard the little girl say as they came into earshot. "I'm sorry, Mummy. We were on the wrong side, I can't go on that side of the road."
The mother sighed. "If you can't be trusted to walk sensibly, you can't be trusted to be left at nursery school. Do you understand? If you do it again, I'll have to withdraw you from nursery class and you'll have to wait until you start big school next year."
The little girl gasped. "But Mummy! I want to go to school! Did you see all the books there?" Her cloud of brown hair seemed to crackle with her indignation.
Another sigh. "Yes, I did. And lots of children to make friends with. Just show me that you can be a sensible girl and walk nicely with Mummy, and there won't be a problem."
"I will, Mummy. I'm so happy I was born in September so that I didn't have to wait until January to go to school. Mummy, can you please ask the teacher tomorrow if I can stay the whole day? Only being there in the morning is really just not ask-epable." They drew level with Remus.
"Acceptable," the woman corrected, shaking her head and smiling. "I'm sorry, darling, but other little girls and boys go to nursery school in the afternoons instead, so you won't be able to stay all day.
Remus could not stifle the chuckle that escaped him as he listened to the little girl's words. He was astounded, however, when the little girl turned her head towards the sound, and looked directly at him. Frowning, he pushed more power into his notice-me-not charm, then tentatively waved at the little girl. She broke into a beaming smile and waved back over her shoulder.
He caught the woman's words as they continued away from him. "Hermione, who are you waving to?"
Thursday 10th December, 1983
The 83 Bus Stop, Rosebush Row (Opp. Privet Drive), Little Whinging, Surrey
It was a very cold morning. The clouds that filled the sky were heavy and grey, threatening snow at any moment. Remus hunched his shoulders against the cold, folding his arms across his body. He'd arrived that morning in time to wave to Hermione as she passed on her way to nursery school. Based on the power he'd had to put into his notice-me-not before she was affected, she would grow up to be a pretty powerful little witch. He'd worked out she would be in Harry's year, if she went to Hogwarts. He wondered when she would have her first incidence of accidental magic. It'd probably be in the next year or so, given how powerful he expected her to be. Muggle-born, he surmised, as her mother had never noticed him even with a low level charm, and neither had her father on the few occasions he'd been the one with her. Hermione seemed a very clever little girl. She smiled at him, or waved her free hand behind her back, after she realised her parents didn't see him. Sadly, from the snippets of conversation he overheard and the slump of her shoulders as she made her way home every lunchtime, she didn't seem to be settling in well with her class. She always seemed full of enthusiasm about her teacher, her activities or the school library, but usually just before they passed out of earshot, her mother would ask her about making friends, and she seemed to visibly deflate. Even her hair seemed to droop.
He was alarmed, later that morning, when the usual quiet of the street was interrupted by a now familiar cloud of curly hair, streaking up the road towards him. He was concerned to see tear tracks on her cheeks as she tore past his bus stop.
He jumped up and caught her by the arm. "Hermione? What's the matter?"
Hermione jumped, startled, and turned to face him with wide eyes. She sniffled. "Hello, Mister." She looked down at his hand. "So you're not from my imagination then?"
He chuckled softly. "No, Hermione. I'm as real as you are."
"How do you know my name?"
"I've heard your Mum and Dad say it."
"Oh. What's your name?"
"R- Er, John. John…Wolf," he told her, using the alias he generally used in the muggle world. He found his middle name was much less conspicuous than his first in muggle circles. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. "Here, dry your eyes now, Hermione, and tell me what the matter is."
She looked at him carefully, as if deciding whether or not to trust him. Her lower lip began to wobble. "Nobody likes me! All the other children make fun of me and snatch my books away! And…and…things keep happening!" she wailed.
"Things? What sort of things?"
"Well, this boy Malcolm in the big class keeps pulling my hair at playtime, but then he told teacher I'd hurt him on his hand, and I didn't but his hand was all red so I got sent to the corner, and things keep catching fire near me, but the fire is blue! Daddy said I must have put salt in the flames, but I'm not setting fires, I'm not!"
"Oh Hermione, I believe you." If only I could tell you what it is, damn the Statute of Secrecy. "But why have you come running out here on your own? How did you get out?"
"Malcolm chased me to the corner of the playground and said I was a teacher's pet and he was going to teach me a lesson, and he put his hand like he was going to hit me, and I shut my eyes and squeezed myself up small and then…then I was outside the fence. I don't know how but Malcolm started yelling and I didn't want to get into trouble so I ran away. Please don't tell anyone! I didn't mean to pop out of the fence! I just wished I could get out and go home…"
Accidental apparition, then. "I won't tell anyone, but I must take you back to your school. They'll be worried."
Hermione sighed.
Remus hesitated, but knew he should ask. "Hermione, does the teacher know that the other children are teasing you?"
Another sigh. "Yes. They don't like it when I tell on them though. She says I need to try a bit harder at making friends and sometimes I just have to do things I don't like. Mummy wants me to try and make friends too. I am trying, but Daddy say I should always be me and not pretend."
"Perhaps you need to get your Mummy to speak to your teacher about this."
"She already did, and then everyone called me a tell-tale. It doesn't matter anyway. We're moving house soon to a different town and I'll go to a different school."
"Where are you moving to?"
"Oxford. Mummy and Daddy are going to have their own dentist's surgery and Daddy will teach people at the univers-ty sometimes. Do you know what a univers-ty is? It's like a school for grownups. Maybe the children there will like me better."
"I'm sure you'll make friends in you new school, Hermione." Maybe I can help you control your accidental magic…that would make it easier for you. "Tell me, when 'things' happen around you, is it when you are cross, or sad, or scared? Do you feel any different before they happen?"
Hermione looked thoughtful. "Yes. Sometimes it's like a…a…a bubble blowing up, in here." She tapped her head. "Or here." She tapped her chest. "And then it pops. Mummy says it's my temper, but it's not just when I'm cross."
"Okay, well, when that feeling starts, the bubble feeling, I want you to take deep breaths and count to ten in your head. Don't think about anything else, just concentrate on your counting. Or you can use the alphabet, or a rhyme, if the numbers don't work, as long as you empty your mind and only think of that. Can you count to ten?"
Hermione looked affronted. "I can count to one hundred, and even higher than that!"
Remus chuckled. "Good. Can you do that for me then? I think it will help."
Hermione frowned up at him. "You mean it will stop 'things' happening?"
"Perhaps." He smiled down at her. "Hermione, have you heard of a book called 'Matilda'? It's by a man called Roald Dahl."
"I've seen it in the library, but Mummy says I wouldn't be able to read it yet."
"Well, when you're a little bigger, you should read it. I think you'd enjoy it very much. Now, are you feeling better?"
"I suppose so," Hermione replied, although she looked sad once more, seeming to realise it was time to go back. She held out the handkerchief for him to take back. "Thank you, Mr Wolf."
He shook his head. "Keep it. And if you ever feel lonely, or different, again, I want you to take it out and remember that you've a friend in me. Okay?"
She tucked the handkerchief into her coat pocket. "Okay."
He smiled, and reached out to take her hand. He noticed someone dashing about, looking this way and that at the far end of the road, where Hermione had come running from. "Now, let's get you back to school before a full-scale search is mounted."
They set off up the road. He handed a subdued Hermione over to the frantic nursery teacher, playing the part of a concerned passer-by. He made a comment about perhaps double checking their fence, as there must be a broken section if this little girl had fallen through it. He was startled but touched when, before she followed her teacher into the building, she turned to him and threw her arms around his legs in a hug. Hermione would be confused when the teachers did indeed discover the bars of the fence were bent in the corner of the playground, leaving a gap just large enough for a little girl to slip through. Teenage vandals were blamed, but Hermione was secretly sure her friend Mr Wolf had something to do with it.
That was the last morning Hermione came past his bus stop. They would meet again, though neither knew it at the time.
Monday 4th January, 1984
The 83 Bus Stop, Rosebush Row (Opp. Privet Drive), Little Whinging, Surrey
Remus was beginning to think he must have been wrong; he'd not had so much as a glimpse of Harry in the five months or so he'd been observing the area. He wished he could set up some sort of constant observation, but he couldn't be here all of the time and couldn't trust anyone else to keep it secret. He knew the muggles had a recording device – a video camera – that would do the job, but he couldn't just set one up in the street. They were bulky things, and expensive, so it would not be subtle and it would be a target for thieves. He couldn't use magic to disguise it, either, as it would interfere with the electronics.
Luckily for him, today would prove he was right. It was the start of a new school term once again, and from something little Hermione had inferred way back in September, when he'd eavesdropped on her conversations with her mother, a new batch of younger children would be starting at the nursery school. He had in fact looked up information about school admissions in the area and concluded that this batch should include Harry and his cousin. He kept his eyes firmly on the entrance to Privet Drive, as children in uniforms hurried up the road around him. Presently, a tall skinny woman turned the corner onto Rosebush Row, clutching the hand of a very rotund boy bundled up in a coat, scarf and enormous bobble hat. He sat up straighter, listening hard. He watched her turn, a frown on her face, and heard her snap over her shoulder in a shrill voice, "Hurry up, ungrateful boy, my darling Diddykins can't be late on his first day to nursery school. And you'd better behave yourself. You're lucky we're allowing you to go…" to a very small, thin, black haired boy scuttling after them, who had stopped and shuddered for a moment – at the ward boundary.
"Yes, Aunt P'tunia. Sorry, Aunt P'tunia," piped up the little boy through chattering teeth. His rather threadbare coat looked especially inadequate against the cold next to the other boy's woollens. Remus was on his feet and following them before he even registered what he was doing.
Remus stayed several strides behind them, on the opposite side of the road, just to be sure. He got all the confirmation he needed when, as the three crossed the road to enter the school, the little black haired boy seemed to sense he was being watched and looked back down the road and straight through Remus' notice-me-not. Getting his first proper look at the boy's face, he knew he was not mistaken. Lily's eyes on a miniature James. The boy he now knew to be Harry squinted at him uncertainly for a moment, before Petunia grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into the school grounds, scolding him in furious whispers.
Remus stood frozen to the pavement. Harry, he thought. I've found you.
Dear Minerva,
I've seen him. He's very small, smaller than I'd expect, and I saw no love or kindness in Petunia's manner.
I plan to approach them tomorrow as soon as they are outside the wards.
Remus
Tuesday 5th January, 1984
The far corner of Rosebush Row, Little Whinging, Surrey
Remus stood poised, waiting to intercept Petunia when she made her appearance with her son and Harry. He doubted she would know who he was, even if Lily had mentioned him in their youth – he almost certainly wouldn't have recognised her had it not been for Harry trailing after her – but a few words could set the record straight and ensure Harry would be treated well. Remus would make sure of that. So focussed was he on his task that he was oblivious to the approach of someone behind him.
"I must confess myself disappointed in you, Remus."
Remus jumped in surprise and whirled around to come face to face with Professor Dumbledore, his long beard and brightly coloured robes looking even more eccentric than usual out here on a muggle street corner. He gaped at the headmaster.
"I do believe I assured you that Harry was safe and protected. Why did you not trust me? How, I wonder, did you manage to find him?" There was no twinkle in his eyes; indeed, something akin to anger showed on his usually impassive face.
Remus' eyes hardened in response, and he strengthened his Occlumency shields. "Research, professor. And a few strokes of luck." He wouldn't break Minerva's confidence, though he was sure that Dumbledore must have seen his message to Minerva either on paper or in her mind. He'd told no one else of his endeavours.
Dumbledore regarded him critically. "Remus, you have been foolhardy. You could have inadvertently brought danger right to Harry's doorstep. And knowing his location is of no consequence – he must remain here, safe in the care of his family under the protection of the wards I have constructed. You must vow you will not interfere."
"I only needed one glimpse of him to know that he's not safe in their care, Professor. He looks half starved, barely adequately clothed, and there was no loving care in the way Petunia was with him; she dragged him by the collar, and the way she spoke to him –"
Dumbledore raised his hand to interrupt him. "Remus, one glance cannot possibly give you full insight into his care. I have a contact reporting to me who would notice any ill-treatment. Little boys misbehave, and sometimes need discipline. I must ask you again, Remus, to vow that you will not interfere."
"No way, professor. Not while Harry is in her 'care'. I don't trust that he will be safe there," Remus snarled
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "In that case, Remus, I would have no choice but to turn you in to the Ministry as a threat to Harry Potter's security. Though I'd hate for your condition to become common knowledge through the investigation that would be sure to follow, if that's what it takes for the greater good, then I will do it. And if that happens, I'm sure you'll never see him again."
Remus looked at him, aghast. "No! I'm no threat to him! Why are you doing this? Let me visit him, just occasionally, please, just so he knows he is loved! I won't take him away, I swear it, if he really is safe…"
Dumbledore shook his head. "You know I cannot allow that, Remus. Now you must swear, on your magic, not to approach Harry to speak with him, or contact him in any way, before he rejoins the magical world. Swear it, Remus. It is essential to Harry's safety."
Remus felt his will bending under Dumbledore's compelling gaze. As a werewolf, a vow on his magic would kill him if broken – he needed his magic to transform safely – so it may as well be on his life too. He didn't want to do it, he didn't want to make the vow…but he did. He felt his lips moving; heard his voice say the words.
"I, Remus Lupin, swear upon my magic that I will not approach Harry James Potter with the intent to speak with him, nor attempt to contact him, prior to his reintroduction to the magical world. So I do swear, so mote it be."
Remus shed many tears that night. He felt the loss of Harry and his last link to his friends anew. However, he promised himself that he would still watch out for him. Just because he couldn't contact him, didn't mean he couldn't try to protect him from afar.
*When he had been younger, Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened; the Dursleys were his only family. Yet sometimes he thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know him. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harry furiously if he knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Harry tried to get a closer look.*
Strangest of all was a sandy-haired man that no one else seemed to notice; he seemed to pop up all over the place, but was also very often sat at the bus stop on Rosebush Row. Harry only ever seemed to spot him from the corner of his eye; he'd get the feeling he was being watched, but whenever he tried to get a good look the man just seemed to disappear into thin air – with his poor eyesight, he could make out little more than the man's hair colour. This man had never approached him. Harry supposed he ought to feel much more uneasy about it, but for some unexplainable reason, he found the idea that this man was watching out for him a rather comforting one. Occasionally, the man appeared in his dreams, an expression of silent apology on his out-of-focus face. Harry was certain that the man wanted to protect him, and having a protector, even a dream one, was just enough to see him through the more difficult days.
Dear Mr Lupin,
I thank you for your letter. I can assure you that Harry is perfectly well. My contact informs me that he often climbs trees. I'm sure he was simply playing with their visitor's dog.
I would request that you remember your vow, and keep your distance from Harry.
Kindest regards,
Prof. Albus Dumbledore
P.S. I was most pleased to hear that the Wolfsbane potion has now been deemed safe for use. I hope this provides you with a more peaceful transformation each month.
Dear Mr Lupin,
I thank you for your letter. I am sure you have misunderstood the situation. Young boys do sometimes misbehave and must be disciplined accordingly. Information from my contact suggests that Harry's behaviour at school is not exemplary – this latest incident involving climbing upon school buildings – and as such I would expect any competent caregiver to assign him punishment for this.
Do not forget your vow, Remus.
Kindest regards,
Prof. Albus Dumbledore
P.S. I am sorry to hear through Minerva that the Wolfsbane potion has caused the side effects of fatigue, dulled senses and weakness. One hopes that this will improve over time; however I am sure that no physical symptom can outweigh the peace of mind it gives you, knowing you are not a danger at full moon. I do hope you still take precautions, however, in case the potion fails.
Dear Mr Lupin,
I thank you for your letter. I have spoken with Mr Diggle and it turns out he did bow to Harry in a shop. I have advised him to refrain from doing so in future. However, please do not concern yourself unduly – many members of our community have approached a boy whom they thought was Harry Potter only to find they were mistaken. The Ministry have had to Obliviate a number of Harry's muggle doppelgangers. Rest assured, he remains unaware of the magical world and his security is no more compromised than it has been since our meeting on the corner.
Kindest regards,
Prof. Albus Dumbledore
Dear Mr Lupin,
I thank you for your letter. I had heard about the incident from my contact. The ingenuity of young boys (especially those for whom accidental magic may give them a helping hand) knows no bounds. I'm sure Harry intended it to be a harmless jolly jape, however, releasing a snake was somewhat dangerous and I would expect him to receive punishment for this.
Whilst I appreciate your ever-alert efforts to bolster Harry's security, I would ask that you keep your vow in mind, and perhaps step away from the situation. You seem to have misunderstood a number of perfectly innocent situations and I am concerned that you may break your vow inadvertently. It would be a terrible shame, after all these years, given how close we are to Harry's re-entry to our world.
Kindest regards,
Prof. Albus Dumbledore
P.S. I am sorry to see from your recent visit with Minerva that your physical health has continued in its decline. It is possible that someone will be able to modify the Wolfsbane potion in the future to counteract these side effects. If it is any consolation, I have always found grey to be a most distinguished hair colour, even if you are reaching it a little earlier than expected.
Dear Mr Lupin,
I thank you for your letter. I'm afraid I must decline your kind offer to accompany young Harry on his first trip to Diagon Alley. It is policy for a member of the Hogwarts staff to chaperone muggle-born or –raised students who need support to Diagon Alley. Besides which, I fear this may contravene the vow you took, as he is not yet reintroduced to our world. I feel it best not to take such a risk.
Kindest regards,
Prof. Albus Dumbledore
Dear Mr Lupin,
I thank you for your letter. I have no idea why Mr Dursley could be acting in such a manner as you describe. Perhaps he is simply lost and unwilling to ask for directions. They may have decided to have a holiday for young Harry's 11th birthday.
Kindest regards,
Prof. Albus Dumbledore
Dear Mr Lupin,
I thank you for your letter. Yes, young Harry has indeed been sorted into Gryffindor. I would advise you do not contact him at this delicate stage, whilst he is still finding his feet. Allow him to settle into our world first. We would not wish for him to feel overwhelmed.
Kindest regards,
Prof. Albus Dumbledore
Dear Mr Lupin,
I thank you for your letter. I think it best to wait until you have become acquainted with Harry before sending him Christmas gifts. I therefore return your package with this note.
Merry Christmas.
Kindest regards,
Prof. Albus Dumbledore
Dear Mr Lupin,
I thank you for your letter. I'm afraid Harry has had a most trying end to the year. I would advise that you allow him to spend the summer with his family undisturbed. He has not, after all, had chance to see them since last September.
Kindest regards,
Prof. Albus Dumbledore
Dear Mr Lupin,
I thank you for your letter. I am afraid that a meeting this summer will no longer be possible as Harry has received a warning for using magic outside of school. My contact informs me that as a consequence Harry has received a muggle punishment known as "grounding" whereby he is not allowed on outings.
Kindest regards,
Prof. Albus Dumbledore
Dear Mr Lupin,
I thank you for your letter. I'm afraid that although his punishment is at an end, Harry is now visiting with his close friend, Ronald, until the end of the holidays. I think Harry has been looking forward to an outing to Diagon Alley with his friend. I'm sure you remember how jolly a time you had with your own friends at that age. I feel it best that you do not accompany him on this venture.
Kindest regards
Prof. Albus Dumbledore
Dear Mr Lupin,
I thank you for your letter. Boys will be boys, will they not? I'm sure James would have thought flying an automobile to Hogwarts a most diverting adventure. I do agree that Lily would have been furious. We have the situation in hand, however, and have impressed upon Harry just how dangerous their latest high jinks could have been. There is no need for you to join us.
Kindest regards,
Prof. Albus Dumbledore
Dear Mr Lupin,
I thank you for your letter. As I have previously stated, I think it best to wait until you have become acquainted with Harry before sending him Christmas gifts. I therefore once again return your package with this note.
Merry Christmas.
Kindest regards,
Prof. Albus Dumbledore
Dear Mr Lupin,
I thank you for your letter. As I understand from my contact, a relation will be visiting the family during the summer holidays. I am under the impression that they are quite close as though she is not a blood relation Harry refers to her as 'Aunt'. I am sure Harry is looking forward to this so perhaps this is not the best time for introductions.
Your timing in writing is most appropriate as there is an opportunity arising this September that I wish to discuss with you. Please arrange to meet with me at Hogwarts at your earliest convenience. Minerva has my schedule.
Kindest regards,
Prof. Albus Dumbledore
Dear Mr Lupin,
I thank you for your letter. I am indeed aware that Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban. Rest assured he will neither find Harry nor bring him harm.
I hope that you are still able to join me next week as arranged for our discussion.
Kindest regards,
Prof. Albus Dumbledore
Dear Mr, or should I say Professor, Lupin,
I thank you for your letter. I apologise for not informing you that Harry had relocated to Diagon Alley for the remainder of the holiday. I realise in hindsight it may have been a good opportunity to introduce yourself. However, I did feel you would be rather busy in preparations for the new school year.
I look forward to the commencement of your tenure as Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor in a few days. I'm sure you will be able to introduce yourself once Harry has settled into the new school year.
Kindest regards,
Prof. Albus Dumbledore
P.S. Perhaps whilst Severus is preparing your potion he might be inclined to research possible modifications to reduce the side effects that you continue to feel.
1st September 1993
The Hogwarts Express, somewhere just outside London, en route from Platform Nine and Three-quarters to Hogsmeade
**Harry, Ron and Hermione set off down the corridor, looking for an empty compartment, but all were full except for the one at the very end of the train.
This only had one occupant, a man sitting fast asleep next to the window. Harry, Ron and Hermione checked on the threshold. The Hogwarts Express was usually reserved for students and they had never seen an adult there before, except for the witch who pushed the food trolley.
The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard's robes which had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though he seemed quite young, his light brown hair was flecked with grey.
"Who d'you reckon he is?" Ron hissed, as they sat down and slid the door shut, taking the seats furthest away from the window.**
Hermione stared, frozen, for a moment as memories bombarded her…
Waving over her shoulder to a man no one else could see…her first nursery school and popping through the fence…a handkerchief from Mr Wolf, treasured and much used over the years…her new school, her attempts at making friends just as unsuccessful as at nursery…the next time she felt 'things' starting, counting in her head until the feeling went away…moving on to other languages, times tables and poems when counting stopped working…reading 'Matilda'…working harder at schoolwork, doing more advanced subjects, hoping she could squash down the power that made 'things' happen like Matilda did…sitting in the girls' toilet on her first Halloween at Hogwarts, drying her tears with the handkerchief, given by a friend…
…the same handkerchief she now twisted between her fingers in her pocket, stamped with the name…
"R J Lupin," she whispered to Harry and Ron.
"How d'you know that?"
After a moment, Hermione's eyes rested on the luggage rack, and she pointed to it. "It's on his case."
Tuesday 7th June 1994
Front gates, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland
Remus Lupin trudged towards the waiting carriage, a deep sadness weighing him down as he made to leave Hogwarts behind again. Although he'd been overjoyed that Sirius was innocent, he was now on the run with a price on his head, and he was beyond disgusted by Wormtail. He hated that he would not be able to continue teaching, and feared that as word spread regarding his – condition – the private tuition work he'd been doing before Dumbledore offered him the DADA position would dry up quicker than he could say Expelliarmus. But most of all, he regretted not getting to know Harry properly. He'd had his chance but he had, it seemed, lost his Gryffindor courage. Every time he'd tried to approach Harry, he'd chickened out. The first Hogsmeade weekend, when he invited Harry into his office, he was going to say something, but Snape turned up and interrupted them. But all the other times, the Patronus lessons, even the conversation they'd just had… he just couldn't find the words. Remus was a reserved man; he didn't make friends. He kept his distance from people; wizards feared people like him, and muggles could not know about his condition. Other werewolves – not that he knew many - snubbed him, living as he did among "polite" society. It'd been so long since he'd been open to the idea of friendship – of family – that he had foundered when the chance of it came at last. He couldn't fathom how he could form a relationship with this boy beyond the one he had known for so long: the one-sided, observational protector from afar. Harry obviously didn't have the faintest idea that he was one of the few people that Remus classed as family; and likely now he never would. He'd spent nearly two years searching for him, another seven and a half watching him in the muggle world, and the two years before coming to Hogwarts to teach repeatedly asking Dumbledore to allow him a visit. And now, despite being given nearly a year to do it, he'd utterly failed to make a real connection – something that took Sirius no time at all. Even though literally on that same day, Harry had thought Sirius to be his parents' betrayer.
So deep in thought he was as he walked, that he didn't notice Hermione Granger trying to get his attention until she laid a hand upon his arm, rather reminiscent of their first real conversation. It had been a shock, but a pleasant one, to see little Hermione again after so many years. He had barely had time to register anyone but Harry when he'd first seen her on the train, but when he'd looked at her more closely, arriving into the Great Hall with Harry just after the Sorting, he was almost certain that she was the little girl he'd seen on those mornings in Privet Drive, and upon seeing the class register he saw he was right. He'd known, of course, that she should be in Harry's year, but seeing her flourishing at Hogwarts warmed him. She'd given him no reason to believe she remembered him – of course she wouldn't, and besides, he'd given her a false name. He had thought, for a moment, that she recognised him as she hesitated before leaving her first class with him, but that seemed not to be the case. Still, the memory of that sad little girl lingered with him, stopping him from letting her loose on the Boggart in their first lesson. He jumped at the unexpected contact.
"Professor?" she said softly. "I hoped I'd be able to intercept you. I came here as soon as we heard from Hagrid. So you really are leaving?"
"Yes, Hermione. Unfortunately, certain facts about my condition have been made public and… well, it's best if I leave before the owls start pouring in."
"But that's discrimination! It's hardly your fault you were infected, and it doesn't stop you being a wonderful Defence teacher, the best we've had! They can't possibly make you go!" she cried, looking as though she might cry.
"You know as well as I do, Hermione, that the more influential members of magical society are not exactly progressive." He gave her a wry smile, and patted her on the shoulder. "It's for the best that I leave."
Hermione's lower lip wobbled slightly, and he had to repress a smile at the sense of de ja vu. "Well, before you go…I…I just wanted to give you this." She held out a square of white cotton.
Remus stared at the proffered handkerchief, completely floored. "You remember -?"
Hermione blushed slightly. "Yes. That token from a friend, my first friend-" she smiled shyly "-Mr Wolf, well…it helped me dry a lot of tears. I never fitted in in my new school, either. I didn't make another friend, until I came here…and even that took a near death experience. And your advice really helped me control the accidental magic. Thank you for that, by the way. I appreciate that you were bound by the Statute of Secrecy so you couldn't explain, but being able to control …'things'…helped keep me sane. And thank you for introducing me to my absolute favourite storybook. I'm not trying to be presumptuous, or say you're lonely or anything, but…what I mean is, I hope that this will bring you the same comfort that yours brought to me. A reminder that somewhere, someone was my friend." Her cheeks were quite scarlet now.
Remus felt a lump in his throat. He took the handkerchief, and saw that it wasn't the one he'd given her all those years ago. Which, if he was not mistaken, was clutched in her other hand. This one was stamped with "H J Granger".
"Thank you," he said softly, trying to hold back tears. "I'll treasure it. Goodbye, Hermione. I knew you would grow up to be an extraordinary witch. I hope we meet again someday."
"Goodbye, Mr Wolf." Hermione appeared to waver slightly, then launched herself forwards and hugged him around the waist.
"Under the circumstances, Hermione, I think you can call me Remus."
Tuesday 7th June 1994
Astronomy Tower, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland
Harry Potter stood on the astronomy tower, watching Professor Lupin talking to Hermione through a telescope. He saw her dart forward and hug him. Good, Harry thought. If anyone looks like they could do with one of Hermione's hugs, it's him. As Remus went through the gates, he turned for a last look at Hogwarts, and looked straight up at the tower where Harry stood. He raised a hand in farewell.
Harry had spent a lot of time this year carefully watching Professor Lupin. There was an odd sense of comfort and familiarity about the man that he just couldn't place, until now. He'd wanted to talk to him about it, but he could never quite bring himself to. Seeing him at a distance, he knew for sure that this was his protector. There was much more to Professor Lupin than he'd let on, and Harry felt regret that he might never know why he'd watched over him for so long, and that he might never be able to tell the professor what strength he'd taken from it.
A few little explanatory notes…
…On Remus: I don't believe for a second that he wouldn't have made an attempt to get in contact with Harry. If they were such close friends, I can't see him abandoning their son willingly.
…On werewolves: Lupin is described as exhausted and ill, especially around full moon. Greyback, the only other werewolf really mentioned, seems to be very strong. I've decided the best explanation (in my own little world) is that the Wolfsbane potion, while controlling the beast, weakens the man (or woman).
…On Hermione in Little Whinging: Couldn't resist. Sorry. Remus needed a friend. Plus I think there are a few parallels between Hermione and Remus – both bookish, both prefects in their day, both ostracised for things beyond their control, and both friendless when they started at Hogwarts.
…On Dumbledore: I had to make someone the villain. Sorry. And to be fair, if anyone would have been the one to prevent access, it would have to have been Dumbledore.
*-* From Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Chapter 2
**-** From Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Chapter 5