- CHAPTER FOUR -

The Headmaster

Remus couldn't believe what he was hearing. Dumbledore? The Albus Dumbledore? In their house?

Remus had heard his father talk about the man enough times to know who he was. The greatest wizard alive; the man who had beaten Grindelwald, the most powerful dark wizard ever; who had done so much for wizards around the world and was now headmaster of Hogwarts School.

Why would he be here?

Dumbledore did not seem inclined to answer any of these questions right away. Instead he turned to Remus's mother.

'I hope you will not mind if I address you as Hope?' He asked, his bright blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses.

Hope seemed as speechless as her husband. She might not be a witch but she had heard enough about Dumbledore from her husband to be as surprised to find him in her home as Remus was. For a moment it was all she could do to open and close her mouth, looking amusingly like a goldfish. Dumbledore did not laugh but kept smiling the pleasant smile he had been wearing since he walked into the room and waited patiently.

Finally, Hope seemed to regain her ability to speak.

'No,' she said, her voice sounding half strangled, 'no, of course not.'

'Well then,' Dumbledore beamed, 'I wonder if I could impose upon you for a cup of tea? It's been rather a long journey.'

Words apparently failing Hope again, she only nodded and then bolted from the room in the direction of the kitchen.

'You travelled all the way here from Hogwarts, Professor?' Lyall asked, sounding surprised. He, of course, had known Dumbledore as a teacher and so was not quite as star-struck as his wife, though he did still look at him with eyes a little wider than usual. It was as if some priceless jewel had walked into the living room and asked him the time of day. Remus would have laughed had he not been so stunned himself.

Dumbledore was nodding.

'Yes,' he said, 'I never Apparate if I can help it. Doesn't agree with my digestion. I prefer to fly, when I can.'

Remus was barely listening as Dumbledore and his father exchanged pleasantries. He was still waiting to hear the reason why this great sorcerer had flown all the way to this little town in the middle of nowhere. Was it because of him? But it couldn't be. He hadn't received a letter. Maybe he was here to speak to Lyall? Maybe there was a position at Hogwarts he wanted Lyall to fill?

As if hearing his thoughts, Dumbledore turned those blue eyes on him.

'Now, Remus,' said Dumbledore, his voice warm and pleasant, 'you're actually the reason I'm here today.'

Remus could think of nothing to say. Dumbledore was here to talk to him? But why?

Finally, he simply said, 'Oh,' and a moment later, 'Okay.'

Dumbledore smiled at him. He had a very warm smile, Remus noticed. It was a smile that immediately made you feel at ease.

Taking a seat on the sofa opposite from where Remus sat, Dumbledore fixed him again with his piercing gaze from behind his half-moon glasses.

'I imagine you may have heard that the last of the Hogwarts acceptance letters went out some time ago,' said Dumbledore, 'and no doubt you were disappointed that yours was not among them?'

The warm feeling the smile had given him vanished. Had Dumbledore come all this way to rub his nose in the fact that he couldn't go to Hogwarts? It seemed excessively mean, especially from a man who his father was always calling such a great wizard.

Something of this thought must have shown on his face, because Dumbledore suddenly looked aghast.

'Remus, I'm so sorry, I phrased that rather poorly. I should have said it had been my intention to send your letter months ago but, alas, Eugenia Jenkins turned out to be more stubborn than I had anticipated. It was only this week that I finally convinced her. I regret I may have become a tad short with her. But these things are easily soothed between old friends and all to the greater good, I think. Yes.'

He seemed lost in thought for a moment, though he snapped out of his reverie when Hope returned holding a steaming mug of tea. It seemed she had not thought to make any for anyone else.

Remus was struggling to process what he was hearing. Was Dumbledore saying what he thought he was saying? He'd said he'd meant to send his letter. But did that mean there was an actual letter or merely that Dumbledore had wanted to send him one? Had Dumbledore been able to overturn a centuries old rule? He did not dare allow himself to hope.

Dumbledore took a sip from his cup and let out a satisfied sigh. He did not seem in any hurry to get to the point. In spite of how tense he was feeling, Remus had to stifle a laugh at the sight of his parents. Neither had taken a seat and were now awkwardly hovering behind where Dumbledore sat.

Dumbledore himself did not seem to notice them, his attention was entirely on Remus.

'You do not seem pleased,' Dumbledore said. He cocked an eyebrow that might have suggested mild disapproval if not for the mischievous twinkling in his eye.

Remus opened his mouth, found his throat too dry to speak, coughed and then spoke.

'I'm just a bit confused,' he said, trying not to sound too hopeful. But why else would Dumbledore have come? Surely the only reason the Headmaster had come here was that…no, he told himself, no it must be something else.

Dumbledore chuckled before reaching into an inner pocket of his robes and pulling out a thick envelope made of yellowish parchment.

'Perhaps this will clarify things,' he said.

Remus stretched out his hand to take the envelope, addressed to Mr R. Lupin, The Back Bedroom, 20 New Street, Lampeter, Ceredigion. He pulled out the letter and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr Lupin,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

'Professor McGonagall?'

Remus jumped and turned around to see his father, who had been reading the letter over his shoulder. Dumbledore turned his gaze on Lyall.

'Yes,' he said, amiably, 'she seemed the logical choice when I was given the headmaster position.' He turned back to Remus. 'So, do you accept?'

Not for the first time that day, Remus was absolutely speechless. He could go. He was going to be allowed to go to Hogwarts. It was all he had ever dreamed of. He felt as if there was a fireworks display going on inside him. He turned to Lyall and Hope, expecting them to look happy and was surprised when he saw them looking at each other. Their expressions were not joyful. They did not appear unhappy, but as if there was something unpleasant that needed to be mentioned. Which of course there was. It was as if the fireworks had died. Remus knew exactly what was bothering his parents and he had a sudden rush of disgust with himself for not thinking of it himself.

'Professor,' Lyall said, tentatively, 'this is something we've all been hoping for. But, I mean, you know what Remus is…' He left the rest unsaid. He didn't need to finish. All in the room knew what he was getting at. If Remus was to attend Hogwarts, then what would happen under the light of the full moon?

Remus winced and looked at his mother. But, for once, she did not seem to have any argument on the subject. Then Remus realised; Hope had always been the one saying he deserved to attend Hogwarts. Believing this would happen, she had been the one worried about what that would mean. Lyall, he knew, had never believed it would be allowed and so had not concerned himself with how the school might be able to shield the rest of the students from Remus every month. Now that that had become a possibility, both of his parents were worried about the same thing. It was rather unnerving.

Remus had to repress a sad smile. Some boys his age might be upset by the idea of their parents being more worried about other children than their own, but he knew better. Werewolves, even eleven-year-old ones, did not need all that much protection. It was those around them who were in danger.

Dumbledore did not seem to share the Lupins' trepidation. On the contrary, he smiled and steepled his fingers in his lap.

'You needn't worry, Lyall,' he said, 'I have made all the preparations so that, come September, we will be able to manage your son's, erm, problem.'

With that, Dumbledore pulled a wand from the sleeve of his robes and waved it, causing a large cloth bag to pop into existence above them. It came down slowly and Dumbledore placed his wand beside him on the sofa and reached out a hand to grip it by the handle. He then snapped the bag open and reached cautiously in. After a moment, he pulled out what appeared to be an ugly and twisted tree sapling in a large flower pot. It was, perhaps, as tall as a man's forearm and already had long, very thin, branches that seemed to reach out like fingers in every direction.

Dumbledore was holding it around the trunk, his thumb pressing hard against it. He placed the sapling on the coffee table and took his hand away quickly. Remus saw why. The second the headmaster released his grip the plant sprang to life. Its branches began swaying gently from side to side, as if daring anything to come close.

'This,' Dumbledore said, by way of explanation, 'is a juvenile Whomping Willow. One of two that is to be planted in the Hogwarts grounds this summer. Professor Sprout assures me they are very fast growing and will be more than ten feet tall by September. If you will observe…' Holding his wand again, Dumbledore slowly moved the tip closer and closer to the plant. When it was maybe a foot away from the trunk, the branches suddenly moved, making an audible whack against the wand. Dumbledore took it away and immediately the plant returned to its more docile, yet still threatening manner. 'A house has been constructed on the outskirts of Hogsmeade,' Dumbledore went on, as if nothing had happened, 'it is completely barred on the outside and a passageway runs from it to the school grounds. This Whomping Willow will be planted above the entrance. On the night of your transformation, you will enter the passage and go to the house. You will spend the night there and return in the morning. The tree will prevent any from following you and it's my belief that the sound of a werewolf coming from inside the house will prevent any curious locals from investigating.'

Dumbledore finished and picked up his cup of tea, careful not to let his hand stray to near the still swaying sapling.

Remus looked at his parents. They were looking at each other again, though now his mother looked hopeful while Lyall looked thoughtful.

'That should work,' he said at last.

'Yes, that was rather my thinking as well,' Dumbledore said, still smiling softly. Hope said nothing. She seemed to be holding her breath. She seemed unable to believe what was happening. 'Remus,' Dumbledore turned his attention back on him, 'you have been very quiet through all this. You have heard all of our plans. The most important question has yet to be answered. Will you accept a place at Hogwarts? I have made all the preparations for you, but if you would rather not come I shall of course understand…'

'No!' Remus blurted out, 'I want to come! I…' He looked around at his parents. Perhaps they still had their doubts about him going. They would not be able to keep an eye on him if he went. If something went wrong, they would not be able to do anything about it. But Lyall was smiling a small smile and Hope nodded, encouragingly. Remus turned back to Dumbledore. 'I would like to accept the place at Hogwarts,' he said, trying to sound as mature as he could. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

'Excellent,' he said, 'most excellent. Don't worry about sending the owl,' he directed this at Lyall, 'I'd like to think the word of the headmaster that a student is attending should count for something. Well then, Remus, I shall see you on the first of September. Now, if you don't mind, I just need to have a quiet word with your parents.'

Understanding the dismissal, Remus stood up and headed in the direction of his bedroom. He had to resist the urge to bounce with excitement on every step. He was going, he was really going.

He was about halfway up the stairs when an exclamation from his parents brought him to an abrupt halt.

'He's working for him? You're sure?'

That was Lyall's voice. He sounded shocked and angry. Remus listened intently. He had never heard his father's voice like this.

'I am sure,' Dumbledore said, his voice barely rising above a whisper, 'I have sources who saw the whole thing.'

'But that makes no sense,' Lyall said, his voice had become desperate, 'he's always worked alone and he hates wizards. Why would he join Voldemort?'

'I can only guess,' said Dumbledore, 'though I think I'm right. I believe that he believes Voldemort can offer him more victims. He'll see it as mutually beneficial. He gets an outlet for his cruelty and Voldemort gains, well, an attack dog that he can threaten his enemies with.'

Remus was completely lost. He knew the name Voldemort, of course. It was impossible to open a newspaper or turn on the wireless without coming across the name. He and his followers had been leading riots in wizarding communities for the last year, attacking businesses owned by muggles and muggle-borns. But he had no idea who this other, this attack dog that Dumbledore mentioned, might be.

'So, what does this mean?' Hope was speaking now and her voice was worried.

'I believe it means that Voldemort is ready to make a bigger move,' said Dumbledore, 'he's long held werewolves in as much contempt as most of the rest of wizards. If he's willing to recruit Greyback to his cause then its only a matter of time. I've been trying to tell Eugenia for years that Voldemort is no mere rabble rouser, maybe this will be enough to convince her.'

'What can I do?' the was a kind of ferocity in Lyall's voice now which alarmed Remus. He was apparently the only one. For Dumbledore spoke now as if he had expected Lyall to react this way.

'I know how important this is to you,' he said, 'but, for now, we must wait. Voldemort has shown us a glimpse but we have yet to see his full hand. Acting too soon can be quite as disastrous as acting too late. For now, I would ask that you remain aware and vigilant.'

'Oh, don't you worry about that, Professor,' there was a note of bitter amusement in Lyall's voice as he spoke, 'you know what I owe that monster. I'll see him rot in Azkaban if it's the last thing I do.'

There was a pause. Remus wished he was back inside the living room. He heard something that sounded somewhere between a sniff and a cough.

'I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel the same way,' Dumbledore said, and there was an edge to his voice that Remus had not heard before, 'Fenrir Greyback is one of the most truly evil people I have ever come across. But the best way to see that he gets what he deserves is to be patient and wait for the right moment to present itself. You are well placed to see when that moment comes, Lyall. Keep your eyes open at work. I have a feeling you won't need to wait too long.'

There was the sound of boots on the floor and Remus, just in time, scrabbled up the stairs so that he was out of sight when Dumbledore came into the hall.

'Well, I had best be off,' the headmaster said, 'there's a lot to be done, not the least is deciding on a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.'

'I thought old Elias Boot got the job last year?' Lyall asked, all the bitterness that had been in his voice before was now suddenly gone. Remus supposed it was because they expected their voices to carry to his room. They would not know that he had been eavesdropping.

'No,' Dumbledore said, sadly, 'he came down with a nasty case of spattergroit at the end of the year and had to give up the post. Not to worry, I have a few potentials. But I shan't bore you with that. Its been a pleasure seeing you, and I'll look forward to seeing Remus at Hogwarts.'

Remus heard the click of the door being opened.

'Professor,' Lyall spoke up. Remus could tell this was something he'd wanted to say for a while. There was a pause. Dumbledore had evidently stopped. 'There were others,' Lyall said, at last, 'the same age as Remus, in St. Mungos. Will they be…'

It seemed Lyall was unable to finish but Remus knew what his father was getting at. The two girls who had been in the ward with him, who had also been bitten. The other werewolves. Remus remained out of sight but strained his ears to listen. Dumbledore's response was hushed.

'No,' he said, and his voice was almost morose, 'it seems they've joined Him.' There was a note of disgust in the headmaster's voice as he said that last word.

'What?' Hope sounded incredulous. 'But how? Why?'

'I don't think their parents were able to cope as well as you were,' Dumbledore said sadly, yet also sounding almost sickened, 'I expect Greyback was very understanding and was all too willing to take them in.'

Remus had heard enough. He really did retreat to his room now, closing the door as gently as he could. A moment later, he heard the front door close and knew that Dumbledore had left.

He had heard a lot but did not know what it all meant. A lot of it seemed to revolve around this Greyback, whoever he was. From what his father and Dumbledore had said, Remus assumed he was a werewolf. A werewolf who had joined Voldemort. And those two girls who had been in St. Mungos with Remus had left their families to join Greyback?

It was strange to think that as little as half an hour ago, he had been so excited to be going to Hogwarts. Yet now, all he felt was confusion. Greyback, Voldemort, it was all important for some reason. And his parents had not wanted him to hear, or else why would he have been sent from the room?

Remus flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. So, who was this Greyback? And what did have to do with him? He already knew the answer, really. It was the only thing that made sense. Greyback must have been the werewolf who had attacked him.

He still remembered that night. Seeing the monstrous thing coming into his bedroom, the flash of knife-like teeth in the moonlight.

Why had his parents not told him about Greyback? They had always claimed to not know who the werewolf had been, but from what he had heard, they had known all too well.