XI. Options
-—Remus doesn't see a point to his career advice appointment.
March, 1976

Remus trudges his way toward McGonagall's office, knowing exactly what is in store for him once he arrives. The other fifth years have been discussing this for weeks, reading through pamphlets and talking excitedly about whether they'll get an O.W.L. in this class, whether they should take this or that or...

But in the end, for him, it doesn't matter. Nobody will hire him, anyway.

He arrives at 3:30, right on time, to see McGonagall look up at him with a smile. "Mister Lupin, please, shut the door," she says, gesturing to the chair before her desk. "We have much to discuss..."

He heaves a heavy sigh, doing as he is told before falling heavily into the chair. She might as well just dismiss him and get it over with; even if he graduates from Hogwarts with top marks, 12 O.W.L.s and 12 N.E.W.T.s and a recommendation from Dumbledore himself...

It'll all be useless in the end.

"Looking at your grades, you excel in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms, it seems," she begins when he says nothing. "You are also doing very well in Transfiguration and Arithmancy, though your Potions grade leaves something to be desired..."

He almost laughs. Potions...not his best subject. (It doesn't help that Slughorn seems to be scared shitless of him.) And then he does laugh, because she's acting like any of this will actually matter.

"I know you spend a lot of time tutoring the younger students, and you're a very driven young man. Do you have any idea of what you would like to do once you leave Hogwarts, Mister Lupin? There are several options available to—"

"Professor," he cuts her off abruptly, sinking lower into his chair. "Why are you wasting your time with me?"

Her eyes shoot up to meet his, surprise written across her face. "I'm not sure I understand, Mister Lupin."

"Do you actually expect me to get a job once I'm out of here? Do you actually expect someone to hire me?"

He hasn't brought this up—with his parents, with his friends, with anyone. It's a non-topic; they all know the truth, but nobody is willing to discuss it. He's been acting normal around James and Sirius and Peter, because he knows they'd bash him over the head if they heard his thoughts on the matter, but this has been bothering him for weeks.

He'll have seven years of happiness. He'll have seven years where he can be happy and have friends and actually pretend to be normal.

But the legislation getting pushed through the Wizengamot isn't pretty, and pretty soon he'll have to have "WEREWOLF" stamped across the top of his resume in great red letters. And who would hire such a monster? He knows he wouldn't.

Nobody talks about it, but everyone knows the truth. Remus knows James and Sirius have aspirations of becoming Aurors; Peter wants to go into spell research. They don't gush about it as others do, because they know Remus' situation and they know how much it would hurt him. He would love to be a teacher... But he can't dwell on dreams, now can he? He has to be realistic. No headmaster in his right mind would ever hire a werewolf to teach young, impressionable children.

"Remus," McGonagall says quietly, breaking him out of her thoughts. Her papers lay abandoned on her desk, now, and she leans forward to give him her full attention. "Dumbledore has been through this with several employers. As long as you keep your marks high enough, and he vouches for you, they say they won't have a problem hiring you once you have left school."

"Yeah, they say that now..." He can't bring himself to look her in the eye. McGonagall—stoic, unmovable McGonagall—actually looks worried for him. But he doesn't want her pity; he doesn't want anyone's pity. He just wants to get on with his life—whatever's left of it, of course.

She is silent for a moment; he imagines her eyebrows are furrowed in thought, in confusion, in worry. He doesn't know. He just wants to get out of here before this meeting turns any worse. He's just wasting her time, anyway. She could already be moving onto the next student...Mary, if he remembered the list correctly...

She sighs heavily, leaning back a bit in her chair. "Mister Pettigrew was in here earlier...he said I may have a problem with you."

"Peter?" Of all three of his friends, Remus least expects Peter to discuss something like that with McGonagall. He isn't sure whether he should be touched or annoyed; he settles for an incredulous expression, staring across the desk at the professor. "What'd he say about me?"

"He said you've just about beaten yourself to death over this ever since the pamplets got sent out, and that you think you'll never be able to become a teacher." Remus opens his mouth to cut in, feeling suddenly outraged, but she continues over him—"And I can assure you that if you ever desire to fill an empty position at Hogwarts, you will have no trouble getting the job."

He can only gape at her for a moment. Her tone had left no room for argument, and her expression is deadly serious; she stares at him from behind her sharp glasses, obviously waiting for a reply. "But...the parents...they'd never let their kids—"

"And there are things that only the staff needs to be privy to, should someone with a serious medical condition be hired," she finishes for him, the barest hint of a smile on her face. "If I may speak plainly, Mister Lupin, I think you would make a wonderful professor, especially for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Wait a few years after you leave school, when perhaps all these attacks die down a bit..." Her eyes flash, as if there is more she isn't saying, but she doesn't give him a chance to ask, "and I'm sure Albus will not have a problem hiring you."

He's struck dumb for a moment; this is every one of his wildest hopes coming true; he can barely believe it... This can't possibly be happening...something like this, something like him being hired at Hogwarts? Has McGonagall lost her mind—? "And as for your grades, I might suggest asking Miss Evans for help with Potions, but everything else seems to be in order. And unless there is anything else...I believe it is time for Miss Macdonald's appointment, so I must bid you good day, Mister Lupin."

Remus is vaguely aware that his mouth is hanging open, but he doesn't even have the presence of mind to shut it. There is a very small smile on McGonagall's face as she continues, "You'll attract flies like that, Remus. Please, don't be so surprised. There are still good people in the world."

He makes a concerted effort to move his jaw as he walks toward the door, barely managing to make himself form words. "Thanks a lot, Professor."

Her smile grows wider. "Of course, Mister Lupin."