Chapter Two
Remus didn't go back to the pack.
After he'd put himself together and assured Dumbledore that he would be okay, he'd disapparated away. He wasn't sure where he was going, only that he wanted to put distance between himself and the ruin of James and Lily's last moments.
He spent a year wandering. He hadn't any gold to speak of and he couldn't bring himself to burden his parents with his depleted state. Channeling what he'd learned from the pack, he hunted alone in the woods, living on what he could find, sleeping under trees and in caves, staying far away from humans. He'd never been so wild in his life.
It was Alastor Moody who finally tracked him down and convinced him to return to wizarding society. With Moody's help he rented a flat in Diagon Alley and tried to find a job at one of the shops there, but people still remembered James and Lily Potter, they remembered their friends, and they remembered Lupin and what he was. Nothing took. Out of pity it seemed, Madam Malkin who had a werewolf in her family, allowed him to work part time, but as she began losing considerable business once people found out he was working there, she was forced to let him go.
Being unable to afford the flat in Diagon Alley, and tired of taking handouts from Moody, Remus set out again, this time back to Yorkshire, back to his family home.
He was again unwilling to burden his parents with his presence. They had been very tolerant of his condition, and he was thankful for all that they had done to ensure he led as normal a life as possible, but he knew his father's stand on lycanthropes and while Remus didn't quite believe being a werewolf was a source of pride, he didn't think he could handle his father's scorn. He'd grown up with his father's influence heavy upon him and he couldn't bear the disapproving looks he was bound to receive at Remus's rough appearance and current lifestyle.
Instead, he sent an owl asking his father if he could inhabit his great aunt Harriet's cottage as the woman had recently died and left all her possessions to the Lupin family. His father responded with a curt 'yes' and that was that.
The cottage was more of a shack than anything, but it had four walls and was located far enough away from the village that it fit Remus's needs perfectly. It was there that he dwindled away the years, doing odd jobs for the villagers, making short infrequent visits to see his parents, and reading. Being naturally studious, he devoted long hours to reading every volume he could get his hands on.
And it was there that Albus Dumbledore found him, twelve years later.
On that summer morning Remus had been drinking tea from a chipped teacup when he spied a spot of bright purple just outside his kitchen window. Standing up for a better look he had to rub his eyes to be sure he was seeing correctly. But there was no mistaking the man. Albus Dumbledore was standing in front of the shack.
Remus, of course, invited the man in, his mind buzzing with why he was here. He was a bit embarrassed that the last time he saw the headmaster he had been inconsolably crying, but he pushed that thought away.
Dumbledore looked around Remus's meager shack admirably. "Lovely," he nodded approvingly at a particularly hideous wall hanging that had been there when Remus moved in and hadn't bothered to remove.
Remus served tea from the chipped teacups and a metal kettle as Albus settled himself on the frumpy sofa.
"What can I do for you, Prof –er, Albus," Remus said. It had been so long since he'd seen the man, it was hard not to revert back to his school hood self.
"I have come to you, Remus, to ask you for a favor."
"A favor?" Remus said, his stomach churning. He already had his answer if he were asking him to return to the pack.
"You see, I am once again in need of a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts. It has become a yearly quest of mine to obtain a new teacher, and I've had you in mind for a short while. I think," he said calmly, and for the first time looking around at the shabby surroundings with an air of slight disapproval, "that it is high time you return to us."
Remus was speechless. It was quite unexpected, being asked to be a teacher. "Surely, parents would not permit you to-"
"I am headmaster," Dumbledore interrupted. "It is my decision, not that of the parents. And regardless, we will not advertise that you are a werewolf if you do not wish it to be known. And you have heard of t he wolfsbane potion, have you not? I hardly believe it will even be necessary for you to frequent your old haunt during full moons. I see no problem with your condition."
"How is it that you think I'm equipped to teach Defense and the Dark Arts? I've no formal education on the matter. I never went through any mastery programs. Surely there are others, more experienced, more educated..."
Remus trailed off at Dumbledore's amused expression. He gestured to the walls that were lined with books. "I say, a more educated person is hardly a possibility. Furthermore, you have the ability and experience of the Order of the Phoenix along with being Lyall Lupin's son, I daresay you know a great deal about Defense Against the Dark Arts."
When Remus still looked unconvinced, Albus leaned forward and took a sip of his tea before saying, "You do realize, Remus, that Harry Potter is now a student at Hogwarts."
Remus who had just lifted his own teacup, lowered it slowly. "I'd sorted that out, yes."
"Have you no desire to meet the boy?" Albus asked softly.
Remus cringed inwardly. He'd wondered about Harry Potter everyday for the past twelve years. He'd heard the stories of course. How he'd saved the Philosopher's Stone, rescued a young girl from the Chamber of Secrets. The Prophet was ablaze with it, the poor child's name plastering the pages every other week.
"I'm not sure the boy would want to meet me," Remus said softly.
"You think a boy who has grown up with no memory of his parents would not want to meet the man closest to them? Would not want to hear the countless stories you could offer him, the comfort you could give him? Now," he fixed Remus with a stern look. "Whatever row happened between you and James before he died is dust under the rug. I daresay if James were here he'd doubtlessly hex you for such thoughts."
Remus looked at Dumbledore with haunted eyes. The memory of their last night replaying in his mind. But the man was right. He owed it to James to meet his son, to watch over him, help him if he could.
"Well it's settled then!" Dumbledore stood grinning. "I shall see on the first of September!"
With that, the old wizard bid Remus good day and left the house, disapparating when he reached the front lawn.
It was only a few days later that Remus received an owl with the Daily Prophet bearing the news that Sirus had escaped Azkaban. He spent a long time looking at the photograph on the front page. The last time he'd seen Sirius Black was the same night he'd last seen both James and Peter. This photograph looked so unlike the man he knew it was almost unbelievable. The Sirius he knew had been handsome and quick to laugh. The man in the photograph looked haunted, sick, and deranged.
After all this time, Remus still couldn't bring himself to actually believe it. Sirius betraying James was like saying the sky wasn't blue. It just wasn't possible. Yet, here was the proof. Why would an innocent man escape Azkaban? How did he even do it?
The Prophet said Black escaped using dark magic, but Remus knew, deep in his darkest and most shameful places, he knew. Sirius escaped by transfiguring into his dog self. It was obvious, really. Sirius was probably walking around Diagon Alley right now, completely undetected as black, shaggy dog. He stared at the picture for a long time, contemplating whether to go straight to the authorities with the information that Sirius was an anamagus. But in the end, he just couldn't. He wasn't sure why, but he just couldn't bring himself to face that shame.
Authorities, it was reported in the Prophet, believed Black was after Harry Potter, trying to finish the job in the hopes Harry's death would bring back the Dark Lord. The photograph of Sirius on the cover of the Daily Prophet loomed out at him. The man Remus knew would never attempt to kill at thirteen year old child. But the man in the photograph? Well, Remus didn't know that man.
He supposed it was a good thing he was going to Hogwarts after all.
The first of September fell the day after the full moon waned. The harvest moon fell early that year, so Remus was still recovering from a very rough night indeed on the day he was to report to Hogwarts for the start of term. Too ill to apparate, Remus decided that his best option was to take the Hogwarts Express with all the students. That way he could rest, and still arrive on time.
He had very little luggage, among which he carried a suitcase that had his name engraved on it. Or rather, the name of his great, great uncle Raeburn Josiah Lupin but since they had the same initials Remus's mother had deemed it appropriate to award him with this small family heirloom, especially upon the news he delivered that he would be taking the teaching post at Hogwarts. It was a great, shining moment for his dear muggle mother when she presented the shabby old suitcase. "And look," she'd said in excitement. "it says 'Professor' see? Your dad's great uncle Raeburn was a professor himself! He taught at me muggle school, didn't you know? That's how I met your fadder!"
So it was with his hand-me-down luggage that he boarded the Hogwarts express on the dark and rainy day in September, feeling peaky to say the least. The train hadn't even left yet before Remus fell fast asleep in an empty compartment.
He'd woken into darkness. A chill had settled into his lungs that had nothing to do with his illness. Remus had read in the Daily Prophet that the search for Sirius Black had been so widespread that the ministry was allowing Dementors to participate in the search. And while he'd only seen a Dementor one before, it wasn't a feeling one forgot.
As his patronus took form and chased the Dementor away, Remus was both surprised and alarmed to find that one of the children in his compartment was none other than Harry Potter himself. Even though the poor boy was passed out cold, lying on his back with his glasses eskew, Remus would have known him anywhere. He looked so much like James did at that age. Remus was momentarily transported back in time to riding on the train with James as they embarked on their third year at Hogwarts together. It almost seemed like yesterday.
As the year progressed, Remus found that Harry Potter proved to be much like James in more than looks alone. He was a smart child, inquisitive, and funny but much more reserved than James ever was. Remus supposed that came from Lily, or from the fact that he grew up under very different circumstances than James whose creativity and rambunctiousness was encouraged, even adored. Remus found that if he spent too much time in the boy's company, he would revert to a happier self as if he was reminded of the fun James always presented rather than the tragedy of losing him.
It was a slippery slope though. Where Harry reminded Remus of happy boyhood, the constant talk of Sirius Black was a recurring reminder of the nightmare of James's passing. And then there was Snape to deal with. Snape, who had hated James more than it was probably possible to hate anyone, who hated Remus by association, no matter that Remus had never actually taken part in their teasing. To say Remus was worried about their reunion was an understatement, but Remus was pleasantly surprised to find that Snape seemed to have grown through the years. Gotten over his school day grudges and welcomed Remus, not with open arms, surely, but with a calm indifference. That is why his trust never wavered that Snape would not tamper with the wolfsbane potion, which he delivered, without fail every month.
His year at Hogwarts passed quietly and happily. He enjoyed his sessions with Harry, enjoyed the academic conversations he held with his fellow teachers, simply enjoyed being among witches and wizards again. Until that fateful night came when he was studying the Marauder's Map, quietly and lovingly reliving his school days with his friends when he saw two names pop up that he'd not been expecting.
Of course at first he thought he was dreaming. Too consumed with memories of course. But no, those names were definitely there and he was definitely awake. Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. It dawned on him then. All these years, of course. Peter had been the one. Why James entrusted the Fidelus charm to Peter was unclear, but whatever the reason it had to be true. They had to have switched, without telling Remus. Of course they wouldn't have told him, not after that explosive night after the harvest moon. He stared at the map a spare moment more before tearing out of his office and to the grounds. He knew where Sirius was taking them.
Entering the Shrieking Shack was like entering a dream. Everything was just as he'd left it some twenty years ago. The furniture still bore the unmistakable claw marks, the scratches on the carpet, there was even the distinct smell of wet animal still lingering. It brought back so many memories, but he didn't have time for them now. He sprinted up the stairs, following the trail of footprints and the smell of familiar bodies.
Throwing open the door revealed a scene he never wanted to see. Sirius sprawled on the ground, bruised and bloody with a furious Harry standing over him, wand pointed at Sirius's heart. But the sight of Sirius, after all these years...
"Expelliarmus!" he'd yelled, removing Harry, Hermione and Ron's wands.
He paused for a bare moment, looking down at his old friend. "Where is he, Sirius?" For where he expected to see both Sirius and Peter, he saw only one. But then, Peter was always better at hiding than anyone he'd ever met.
When Sirius pointed to the bed, Remus knew for sure. He approached Sirius and without hesitation, reached down and pulled his old friend into a furious embrace. Words could not describe how he felt in that moment, the way his heart soared. As all became known, as it became clear that Sirius had not betrayed and killed their friends, but it was Peter, well that was a whole new thing to swallow, but much easier now that he had Sirius back by his side. Sirius, and Harry. It was almost like having James back again. The whole gang. The Marauders.
The last thing he remembers before the moon caught up to him was listening as Sirius invited Harry to live with him. Remus had seen his old friend smile out of that haunted face and for the first time, in a long time, he felt whole. He found himself hoping, dreaming, that he could live with them too. Maybe he and Sirius could make up for the parents the boy had lost. The three of them, quite the family….
Then the moon hit and the next thing he knew he was waking up in the Forbidden Forest, naked and alone, horror struck that Peter had escaped and Sirius was undoubtedly back in custody.
