Chapter 1 ~ Hogwarts at Last

"Emily Michelle Lupin! Get downstairs right now! It's time for breakfast!"

"Coming dad!"

I dragged myself out of bed, yawning and blinking sleepily.

He must have known I was sluggish because he yelled "I'm making pancakes!"

I perked up; the thought of my favorite food was appealing. The sunlight streaming through my window told me it was about nine in the morning. Time to get the day started.

I jumped in the shower, scrubbing the aches from my body and rinsing the tiredness away. I dried off quickly and pulled on a long-sleeved green t-shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans. My waist-length chocolate brown hair did best when left alone, so I combed through it once and, satisfied with my appearance, made my way downstairs.

My feet made no sound on the carpeted stairs. Years of experience had taught me how to creep around those places most likely to squeak or creak. I crept forward, crouching low, ready to pounce.

"Hello Emily."

I spun around, my hair whipping my face and my bluish-green eyes meeting my dad's brown ones.

"How did you end up behind me?" I asked, knowing his answer.

"I have more practice than you." dad said, smiling. His eyes laughed.

I grinned, throwing my twelve-year old arms around his waist.

"How's the birthday girl?" he asked, leading me into the little kitchen.

"Starving." I answered, grabbing a fork and knife. "Starving and ready for food. Namely pancakes."

He just laughed and piled some pancakes onto my plate. He then sat down at his own seat and served himself some as well. We ate in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds being our forks clinking against our plates and the birds in the magnolia tree outside twittering.

Our house was a quaint, little thing nestled inside some woods near Godric's Hollow. From the outside it seemed like a completely normal house, from the whitewashed front porch to the bright green grass. We had two magnolia trees, one right by the corner of the house and another that stood by the dirt road that snaked its way past our yard.

To anyone who didn't know better, it seemed like a perfect little getaway. To anyone who did, it was a place full of magic and secrets.

Dad and I had some secrets. One was almost trivial, a simple matter. We could use magic. Yeah, my dad's a wizard and I'm a witch. Well actually, only my dad could do magic. He was an "adult" wizard and it didn't matter if he used magic. For me however, I only did little things whenever I felt extremely angry or happy. Stuff that normal wizards and witches do before they're trained.

But we had another secret. The reason that, even though I had received my letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I had not been allowed to open it. The reason that I couldn't go to what would've been my first year at a 'normal' school ever.

We, my dad and I, are werewolves.

Yeah, you read that right. Werewolves.

Every month we get to undergo a really painful transformation and spend a night as ravaging beasts with a thirst for violence and no control over actions or emotions. Yay, super fun.

Sure, there are ways we can partially control our actions. My dad had some friends who became Animagi to help him through his transformations when he was at school. You see, animals aren't affected by werewolf bites, only humans. So his friends really helped him out. They even went exploring the Hogwarts grounds during full moons.

One problem with that - two of them are dead (James Potter and Peter Pettigrew) and one of them has a life sentence in Azkaban, the wizard prison. That's Sirius Black, my godfather. I don't remember him much because he went to Azkaban only a few months after I was born when he supposedly killed Peter Pettigrew. (No, I don't believe all that rubbish about him being a Death Eater, even if my dad does. From all the stories I've heard about him, he's better than that.)

But where was I? Oh yeah, ways to control werewolves. The only thing that works other than the Animagi trick is a newly invented potion called the Wolfsbane potion. By taking this potion every day during the week leading up to the full moon a person with lycanthropy can keep control of their mind when they transform. Their transforming is less painful and they just turn into a harmless wolf with no desire to kill. A great solution, right?

Wrong.

It might be wonderful for people like my dad, overage wizards, but for underage wizards, wizards and witches with the Trace, it just doesn't work. Something about 'The effects being negated by the constant energy put forth by the spell known as the Trace.' At least that's what it said in the Potions book. In short, my dad can take it and I can't.

So my dad, being the true Gryffindor he is, refused point-blank to take it if I couldn't. He put up with the pain he's been feeling for years, even when it could be taken away so easily. I'm sure he thought he was being chivalrous and brave and stuff, but I just thought he was being silly. I used to appreciate the sacrifice, but I was growing up and didn't really need his sympathy and support. I was more concerned for his physical comfort than his comfort in knowing I was not alone.

So there we were on my twelveth birthday, my dad and I, eating pancakes for breakfast. But something was different. I could tell that he wanted to tell me something. Maybe his eyes flicked toward me more often than usual or the silence that had fallen between us was a bit strained. I just knew somehow.

I didn't say anything, just steadily finished my pancakes while waiting for him to speak. Finally, after I'd finished my food and was washing it down with a glass of milk he cleared his throat. I looked up at him. Everything about the way he sat portrayed uncertainty and nervousness, but his eyes held a flicker of something else. Excitement?

"Um, Emily..." he paused, obviously trying to figure out what to say.

"Yes?" I prompted. He was acting really suspicious, not meeting my eyes and absent-mindedly sliding his pancakes around on his plate.

"Well, Professor Dumbledore contacted me last night about- about a job offer." My breath caught in my throat, questions flying through my head. Was this what I thought it was?

He seemed to be waiting for me to say something. "Okay." I said, trying to keep my excitement in, not willing to get my hopes up.

"So, yeah. He- he offered me a job teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts." He took a deep breath.

"Does he know about, well, us?" I asked, feeling slightly ashamed.

Dad gave a small smile. "Yes, he does. Actually, Dumbledore was the headmaster when I went to Hogwarts. He was the one who made it possible for people like us to attend Hogwarts." Wow, Dumbledore had been headmaster when my dad had gone to Hogwarts? How old was this guy anyway? My thoughts were interrupted as my dad continued.

"So he wondered if I would like to teach and he wondered- wondered if you would like to attend Hogwarts." He finally looked up into my eyes as my heart soared. Me, actually go to Hogwarts? I'd wanted to go for years but because of my- our- situation, I hadn't been able to. If he was going to there with me there wouldn't be anything for him to worry about.

"There's one catch though."

My heart sunk when he said that. He suddenly sounded so tired.

"I would have to take the Wolfsbane potion."

I almost laughed with relief. To be honest, it was a weight lifted off my shoulders. No longer would I have two people to worry about each full moon. Dad would be safe in his office.

He looked strained, worried about my reaction. "Honestly dad, it's okay." I said, giving him a small smile. "I'm twelve already. I can handle myself. Really." I tried to sound reassuring, but he just looked upset.

"But I can't just leave you alone each full moon. How will you handle it? How could I come to help you if you needed it?"

I smiled a little sadly. "Honestly daddy, I'll be fine." I said comfortingly, walking around the table to give him a hug. "I'll just do it the same way you did when you were in school, in the Shrieking Shack. I'll be fine." He didn't look completely reassured, but reached into the pocket in his robes, pulling out an envelope.

"Well then," he said, a small and tired-looking smile creeping over his face, " I suppose you'll be needing this." He handed me the faded yellow parchment, sealed with a wax shield featuring a shield embossed with an eagle, a badger, a lion and a snake.

I turned it over and read:

Ms. Emily Lupin

The Largest Bedroom

Little Cottage in the Woods

Godric's Hollow

I opened it and read the words I had been longing for so many years to see.

Dear Ms. E. Lupin,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

My Hogwarts letter had come at last.

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~Megan