Wolf Moon

Wolf Moon

When Albus Dumbledore hires a young, magic-less, werewolf to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts everyone assumes the old goat has finally lost his marbles. But the young werewolf and what he knows may just be the key to helping Harry Potter win the war. Not HBP or DH compliant. Dumbledore bashing, Weasley bashing.

"English."

"Singing."

Thoughts/dreams/memories.

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Chapter 1

An old man wearing neon green robes trimmed in lemon yellow was waiting at the top of the steps when Briscoe walked up, trailed by a silently fuming Snape.

"Good evening Mr. Field, Severus." Snape swept right passed Dumbledore and into the castle retreating to his dungeon lair. "Oh dear."

Briscoe stared at Dumbledore long and hard. He looks like a box of mixed lemon and lime heads. He struggled to keep that thought in his head and off his tongue. "Good evening. I'm assuming that you're the Headmaster."

Dumbledore smiled and his blue eyes twinkled behind his half moon spectacles. "You can call me Albus my dear boy."

The wolf within Briscoe bristled immediately. The old man wasn't all he seemed to be. "Riiight. So you want me to teach defense to your students?" Dumbledore nodded. "You do know I've never taught a day in my life, correct?"

Dumbledore continued smiling and nodded. "Indeed."

Briscoe quirked an eyebrow. "How did you even find me?"

"Word of a young American fighting for the rights of werewolves and other magical creatures makes the news easily here in the UK." Dumbledore glanced at Briscoe over his glasses. "Now if you would like I can show you to your quarters. Your items have already arrived."

Briscoe tucked his hands into his coat pockets. "You know then."

"Yes. It will not be the first time a werewolf has taught here at Hogwarts." Dumbledore turned and calmly led the young man through the doors and down the hall.

"Really?" Briscoe eyeballed the suits of armor, which all moved as they passed, and the paintings, which spoke and moved.

"Yes. About two years ago a former student, Remus Lupin, taught here."

"Lupin?" Briscoe paused.

Dumbledore turned and looked at the young man. "Yes. Do you know him?"

The young lycan shook his head. "No, but I've heard of him. He was in America a few years ago promoting equal rights."

Dumbledore nodded and continued on his way. He led Briscoe up some stairs that moved about half way up them. Dumbledore glanced at him and he grinned. "Cool."

Dumbledore lead him down another hallway and stopped before a set of double doors. He opened them for the young man. "This will be your class room." It was of decent size and there were large full windows along the far wall and the rafters were visible along the ceiling.

Dumbledore closed the doors and moved on down the hall to the next door. He opened it revealing a smaller, comfortable looking room with a large fireplace. "This will be your office. When you have the want you can merely summon some of the house elves to help you do with it as you wish."

"House elves?"

"Oh dear." Dumbledore tugged thoughtfully at his long white beard. "House elves are magical creatures that are tied to a place or family. They are meant to do a persons will."

Briscoe scowled. "You mean slaves."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Quite the contrary. The house elves here are free and may leave at any time." He tugged thoughtfully at his beard one last time. "Winky."

A small leathery looking creature with large eyes and bat-like ears appeared with a soft pop. "Yes Headmaster, sir."

"Winky, this is Mr. Field." He gestured at Briscoe who waved slightly at the strange elf. "As long as he remains with us he will remain under your care."

Winky bowed and squeaked. "Yes, Headmaster, sir. Is Mr. Field sir needing anything?"

Briscoe shook his head. "No thank you. And you can just call me Briscoe."

Winky stared at the young man with large eyes. "Briscoe Field, sir."

Briscoe squinted and sighed. "Close enough."

Dumbledore smiled. "I was just making introductions. You may return to what you were doing." Winky bowed again and disappeared with a soft pop. "Whenever you need her just call her name."

Briscoe nodded and the wolf within him whined and shift restlessly. Neither of them liked nor trusted the headmaster.

The Headmaster led him to the end of the hall and behind a tapestry that pictured a great tree holding up the sky. It hid a doorway and more stairs that spiraled upwards to a landing that held only a picture that stood from floor to ceiling.

It was a beautiful painting of a clearing at full moonlight. Tiny silver stars danced through out the sky and pale delicate flowers littered the ground. Lying asleep amongst the flowers was a large fluffy wolf.

Dumbledore gestured at the painting. "This is the doorway to your rooms. You will find that this is one of the shortest towers in the castle. The first floor is your sitting room and your own personal kitchen and dining area. The second floor is your bedroom and two smaller guestrooms, should you feel that you do not need them they can be altered. The third floor is a your personal study and then you have the top of the tower."

Briscoe nodded his thanks and was surprised at the generosity of the Headmaster, not that the castle was lacking in the room. "How do I get in?"

Dumbledore paused startled. "Oh, right. Silly me. The painting will open with a password of your choice. You may keep it to yourself or give it out as you see fit."

Briscoe nodded and studied the painting.

Dumbledore smiled and gently pat the young man on his shoulder. "I shall be on my way dear boy. Dinner is in the Great Hall if you wish. Remember to call on Winky if you need assistance. Good day then."

"Good day." Briscoe watched the headmaster leave and waited until he was out of scent range before returning his attention to the painting. The wolf was awake and watching him intently. "You're like a guardian of sorts then."

The wolf nodded before he sat up and stretched.

"Do you have a name?" The wolf cocked his head to the side. "Hmm. Guess we'll need to do that then." The wolf seemed to be smirking at him. "How bout the password first though. I've got just the one. Kitten."

The wolf seemed to laugh at him before throwing his head back and howling as the painting swung forward revealing the entrance to his sitting room.

The floors were of the darkest mahogany with the furniture of the same. There was a cluster of black cushioned wing-backed armchairs with a matching sofa on a deep red rug before a large stone fireplace.

A low fire was going in the fireplace to ward off the chill that seemed to linger no matter the time of year in the castle. Above the mantel sat a miniature version of the painting that served as his door. The wolf had decided to move from the larger one into the smaller one.

Briscoe suddenly tired from the amount of energy it took to absorb all the information he had received dropped his coat on the floor, kicked off his boots and dropped onto the sofa.

He yawned and stretched before flopping backwards and draping an arm over his face. "Sleepy."

The painted wolf yawned his agreement.

Briscoe glanced up at him. "Wake me before dinner."

The wolf cracked an eye and growled low in the back of his throat.

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