Remus Lupin lay staring at the same spot on the ceiling that he had been staring at for what seemed like days, his only reserve of energy used to blink slowly in and out of sleep. His breathing was laboured, and his heart skipped beats. He kept trying to entertain the thought of getting up and doing something but simply could not bring himself to. The last time he tried he even managed to swing his legs over the side of the mattress, but once he managed to sit up he felt an overwhelming wave of nausea and dizziness and fell back once more.

He had run out of food, tea, everything. His taps still worked, so he was able to drink water. If he could only make it to the sink. It had been a week since his last transformation, which he certainly considered to be his last transformation. He wouldn't last much longer, slowly starving to death on his tattered and worn mattress on the floor, in his tattered and worn cottage in the middle of nowhere in Yorkshire. He had no friends, no one would notice him gone. No one would know if he had died. The thought had crossed his ever-shrinking mind several times, and while at first it really did upset him, he had now come to accept his fate. He had been destitute for so long that he'd always expected it would eventually end this way. People like him didn't deserve to live in this world, he thought.

The sun was setting on yet another meaningless day. If he turned his head to the side he could see its rays but feared he may not be able to lift it back up again. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, he was dizzy. Anything not to fall asleep again, for he wasn't sure if he'd wake up.

"Please…" he whispered to no one. He didn't know whether he was begging for help or to be released. He missed being outside and feeling the cool breeze slowly turn his cheeks red. He missed being able to hear the wind blow through the trees uninterrupted by the stone walls that surrounded him. He missed the evening sun that would warm his face.

"Please…" he repeated. He could feel his eyes welling up. He wanted to punch something so badly. A gentle knock came to the door a few moments later, as if his plea was heard from some faraway land. Normally he would have been warned by the protective charms that held the cottage. But they must have expired. When was the last time he checked? He groaned, and muttered under his breath, unable to speak properly.

Another knock.

A tear ran down his face, as he raised his left arm from the bed as if to signal his visitor who could not see him. Death would come soon, one way or another, he was sure of it. A Death Eater, perhaps. Or maybe Greyback had finally found him. They wouldn't knock… they wouldn't knock, he told himself.

"He… hello." He forced at a somewhat audible level, using every last bit of energy to do so.

The door clicked, and his visitor entered quietly.

A slight gasp, and then, "Remus…"

He recognised the voice at once and breathed a sigh of relief, shaking. Albus Dumbledore.

He groaned again, turning his head to the side so that he could see his saviour. Dumbledore slowly approached Remus and sat down beside him.

"Remus, my friend," Dumbledore said gently, surveying the situation with great caution, "what has happened to you?"

Remus could only sigh and close his eyes in response, tears now flowing freely. Dumbledore noticed how white and chapped his lips looked, saw the dark bags under his eyes, and how incredibly frail his body was. Not good for apparition. Not good for much anything at all.

He gently helps Remus to a sitting position and props him up against the wall his mattress leaned against. Remus' trousers slipped down slightly, unable to cling to his shrinking frame. His head lolled to the side but Dumbledore lifted it again. Lupin's eyes opened slowly and he just stared through his mentor. You could see his ribcage, his shoulder blades jutting out. His wrists were thin and weak. Scars covered him from head to toe. His face sallow, hollow.

"Remus." Dumbledore pressed gently again, keeping his former student's face supported in his hands. "You need to get up."

Remus lifted his hand to grab onto Dumbledore's wrist. Weak, slow.

"You need to get up, Remus," Dumbledore said again, looking around quickly. It was dark, filthy, devoid of all kind of life and hope. A single plate and cup sat on Lupin's table from his last meagre meal. A brief sigh left Dumbledore, and he turned back to the broken man before him.

"Remus, how long has it been since you've eaten? Have you drank anything?"

A nasty chuckle came from Lupin who closed his eyes again, a fading smile on his face. He honestly couldn't remember when or what he had last. He tried tightening his grip on Dumbledore's wrist but couldn't.

"Albus…" he began, but Dumbledore stopped him.

"Save your energy, my friend. Come on." He picked Remus up slowly but with ease.

With a wave of the hand, Dumbledore managed to light up the entire cottage, now that the sun had disappeared. It almost looked as if it was truly lived in. He brought Remus to the dinner table and sat him down gently. His dirty dishes had disappeared. A glass appeared filled with thick liquid which he was made to drink. Dumbledore helped, of course. To be spoon-fed at his age felt incredibly embarrassing, particularly for such a man as Remus. To his surprise, shortly after drinking the liquid he felt that he had regained a little bit of strength. He could now hold his head up without feeling too dizzy and felt much more able to speak. However, he was out of breath and his heart beat rapidly in his ribcage.

"Thank you, Albus." He said. Dumbledore held his hand up in response. Remus looked at him and thought he almost looked a bit cross.

"Remus, I came here with a proposition for you."

Remus, with his hand holding the glass of thick liquid, which had refilled itself upon depletion, simply waited for Dumbledore to continue.

"I came to ask you if you would be my new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts."

Remus' eyes widened with shock.

A brief silence, and then, "Thank you… Albus, but I couldn't possibly… put the children at such risk. My condition…" "Is neither here nor there." Dumbledore interrupted.

"I can't! Look at me." Remus stated between heavy breaths.

"I am looking, Remus," Dumbledore said, in a most serious tone. "You are a fine wizard and an even finer person. A fierce friend, and a natural leader. Had I realised you were going through such difficulty I would have been here a lot sooner. I understand why you must be here, I understand your feelings, but you must let them go."

"Albus…" Remus tried again in protest. He almost felt as though he was signing his own death warrant by refusing the offer.

"Remus," Dumbledore said again, a little more sternly. "Now, if you do choose to take this position, amongst its many perks, I will also give you a limitless supply of Wolfsbane. You won't be a danger to the children, just like you weren't a danger when you were a student yourself." There really wasn't anything more to say, then, was there?

"There is something else." Dumbledore continued with caution.

Remus drank more of the liquid and was feeling better by the second for it. He looked at his mentor again, waiting for him to continue.

"I don't know if you know this, but Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban."

Remus' heart stopped, his breath catching in his throat. If he had any of the thick liquid in his mouth he surely would have spat it out.

"…What?" He breathed.

"Mm, yes. Harry already knows. I instructed Arthur Weasley to tell him before he returns to Hogwarts. He doesn't know all the details, of course, but hopefully, he will understand in time."

Remus had no idea what to say. He was angry, and upset, and scared, and worried. All the feelings that he had suppressed over the last 12 years after the betrayal of his friend had come hurtling back towards him in an instant. So much pain remained inside him that he didn't know what to do with.

"I understand that you will be concerned too, Remus. But, please… no harm will come to the boy while I'm there. And especially if you're there, too. I need your help to protect him."

Remus blinked and nodded slowly. Had he just agreed?

Dumbledore smiled a gentle smile.

There is food, and plenty of this in the fridge." He said, tapping the glass Remus held in his hand.

Remus gawked, looking to the kitchen and back.

"Keep drinking this and you'll feel much better in no time." He said, getting up to leave. Remus got up too, though shakily, to shake his mentor's hand.

"Dumbledore… I don't know how to thank you."

"There's no need, Remus, not ever. Get your strength up, my friend. You'll need it for the new term." He said, patting Remus on the shoulder, almost knocking him back down into his seat. He placed an envelope on the table, and moments later he was gone.

Remus sat back down in disbelief. Dumbledore wasn't one for long visits, never was. How on earth had he managed to get him from his mattress to speaking at the table in less than 20 minutes? Eventually, he slid his hand across the table to pick up the envelope and opened it to see what was inside. Travel to London.

He'd been given another chance.

* By the time September rolled around Remus had regained most of his strength. The supplies that Dumbledore had left him had worked miracles for his body, and he even gained some weight back. He cleaned and dressed the cottage as much as he could, leaving it looking a far sight better than it had done for a while. He gave up on his gardening once the cool Autumn air had started creeping in during the latter days of August. It doesn't stay warm in Yorkshire for long.

He boarded the train early, much earlier than most students. Normally staff would make their own way to Hogwarts, or perhaps even lived there over the Summer until term resumed. Embarrassment crept in again at the thought of being so poor that he had to ride with the students. Even more embarrassing was the fact that he had no respectable clothes whatsoever. It hardly made sense, too, to travel down to London only to go back up past Yorkshire again. But this was Dumbledore's plan, and there must be a reason behind it. He wouldn't dare question the great wizard.

He chose an empty carriage at random and put his suitcase up in the overhead compartment. He plonked himself down on the seat and drew his robes around his shabby clothing.

He loved this train, for various reasons. Sitting on this train was the first time he felt accepted after Dumbledore had made allowances for him to attend Hogwarts despite his lycanthropy. To Remus, the train represented a kind of freedom he'd never felt before. And here he was again, having been saved once more. Memories of his friends flooded his mind. But before too long they were scorched by the face of Sirius Black, and Remus drew his robes in a little closer to cover his face. He didn't want to think about him, didn't want to tarnish his memories. So he lay his head up against the window, and almost instantly gave in to sleep, his mind and body exhausted.

*

He dreamt of the old days. Of James joking around with Sirius, of Peter and himself trailing behind. He dreamt of scenarios that never happened in and around the Hogwarts school grounds. He dreamt of the girls that he kissed, and of the Shrieking Shack where his friends would follow him in their Animagus forms. There was a warmth to it all.

And then he dreamt of an event he didn't even witness - Sirius in an alleyway slaughtering what he knew to be 12 innocent people, though in the dream it seemed like much more. The warmth he had felt disappeared, and he suddenly felt such despair and hopelessness mixed with a cold so icy that it made his teeth hurt. He heard whimpers, shouts and screams. The cold was almost too much to bear.

And all of a sudden, he woke up. He was on the train, his cloak still tucked around his face. But it wasn't the same train he'd fallen asleep on. This one was dark and cold. He focused his eyes and saw a young boy with flaming red hair, a girl with bushy brown hair. Fear was evident in their eyes. And then he heard it before he saw it - the dementor's kiss.

He quickly sprung into action and turned his body to face the door of the compartment. There it was, a great demonic form, sucking the life from none other than Harry Potter himself. Forever conscious of the form his corporeal Patronus would take, he simply cast a wordless blue mist over the intruder. The children watched in astonishment as the Dementor retreated back down the corridor, and away from the train altogether. Harry collapsed onto the seat having taken the worst of the attack.

Remus didn't say anything, and sprinted out of their compartment and down the corridor, his wand raised high ready for attack. When he was satisfied that the Dementors had left the vicinity he dashed back to the carriage, past numerous students who pressed their faces to the glass to see what was going on.

"Don't worry, everything is fine!" Remus shouted, now hurriedly making his way back to Lily and James' son.

Remus was absolutely terrified, though he tried his best not to show it. How could Lily and James forgive him for not being able to protect their only child? How could he live with himself?

"Harry!" He heard the girl yell, and when he got back she was gently shaking him and checking his pulse. She and the red-haired boy looked at him as he reentered the compartment.

"Don't worry." Remus said to them, trying to calm himself as well. "He'll be fine."

He scrambled around his many tattered pockets but to no avail. He grabbed his staircase from the overhead shelf and waved his wand to open it.

"Accio chocolate." He demanded, his hand shaking slightly. He wouldn't let them see his hand shaking slightly.

With another flick of his wand the suitcase closed and went back to its spot on the shelf overhead, and Remus tossed the chocolate on the little table by the window.

*

Remus smiled meekly at Harry once he woke up. He'd stayed with his friends, for the time being, learnt their names, and tried to calm them down with idle chatter. He explained what had happened.

"What was that?" Harry asked, slumped down where he sat.

"That was a Dementor, one of the guards of Azkaban."

Harry looked nonplussed.

"Azkaban is a prison for the worst of our kind. They will have been searching for Sirius Black." He explained.

Harry nodded slightly.

"Here," Remus said, breaking off a piece of his chocolate and handing it over to Harry, "eat it, you'll feel better."

Harry took the chocolate and began to nibble on it slowly. He straightened himself up in his seat, and Remus continued to smile at him. He was thankful for the lack of questions from the young wizard.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to have a little word with the driver." He said, getting up to leave the compartment.

He looked back before exiting at their scared little faces. He tried not to frown, still offering his smile as a small bit of comfort.

"Eat the chocolate, Harry. You'll feel better, I promise." And with that he left, allowing the door to slide shut on its own.

He walked down the corridor, running his hands through his hair. Once he got to a mid-point where there weren't any students, he lay against the wall clutching his chest, trying to steady his breathing. This was certainly going to be a tough year.

*

Remus climbed the stairs up to Dumbledore's office. The children were slowly filtering into the Great Hall for the feast, but he'd been summoned to talk before celebrations commenced.

He took a moment to himself before knocking gently at the door, though he assumed Dumbledore already knew he was on the other side.

"Come in." He heard his voice call. Remus entered the room slowly and walked to stand in front of Dumbledore's desk.

"I heard you had quite an interesting journey here."

Remus chuckled slightly, looking down he replied, "Yes, you could say that."

"Mm… I have sent word to the Ministry to try and gain some perspective on what on earth happened this evening. Though I can probably predict the reply." Silence. Remus felt surprisingly awkward in Dumbledore's presence. He wanted to thank him for what he'd done for him but felt conflicted over what had happened this evening.

"Is… is that why you put me on the train?"

"Remus had it not been for you the students would have been in grave danger. Mr. Potter in particular. It is a miracle that we had someone with your skills and expertise aboard that train. You dealt with the situation brilliantly and reassured the students that everything would be ok. For that, I am eternally grateful."

'You didn't answer my question.' Remus thought.

He simply bowed his head, smiling. No more questions.

"Now, won't you accompany me down to the Great Hall? We have a feast to attend to, and we need to introduce the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher." Dumbledore said with a glint in his eye.

Remus smiled again, unsure of what to say. Yes, of course? Why not? Were the Dementors on the train for the reason I thought they were? Did you know that was going to happen?

"You look well, Remus."

'I look like shit.' He thought.

*

On their way down they passed Severus Snape in the staff corridors, who looked completely astonished at the sight of Lupin walking along with Dumbledore as if it was perfectly normal. Remus harboured a guess that Snape had not been made aware of the situation.
"Ah, Severus. You remember Remus Lupin?" Dumbledore asked quite cheerfully.

A stone-cold stare followed. Remus understood why, his friends having tormented the man as a boy in their years at the school. Remus never bullied Snape himself. He knew what it was like to be the underdog. Remus, however, had never stopped his friends from doing it and had always felt guilty about it.

"Severus." He said, nodding.

"Lupin." Snape enunciated slowly.

"Remus is going to be our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this term," Dumbledore said, quite cheerfully again. It was as though he was trying to antagonise the Potions teacher. Remus felt quite embarrassed.

'Who wants to see me pull down Snivellus' trousers?!'

James' voice flooded Remus' head before he had a chance to stop it, along with sounds of shrieking laughter from all students who witnessed it. He shut his eyes tightly, guilt washing over him, and proceeded to stare at the stone floor beneath him. They were truly horrible. But he couldn't bring himself to feel any kind of hatred or resentment towards his late friend, the only one who supported him after they all finished school when Remus couldn't get a job due to his affliction. Snape shot a glance at Dumbledore. Another year not to be appointed the position he longed for. He darted down the corridor before anything else was said, his robes billowing behind him.

Remus let out a sort of sniff-sigh.

"Ah, to be expected. Never mind, pip pip." Dumbledore said and motioned for the both of them to keep moving.

"I won't be telling the students about your condition, Remus, but I will be telling the staff in the coming days. I hope you understand."

Remus' heart sank with a thud. Of course, they would need to know, in order to protect the students. But it always left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He kept silent.

*

The rest of the term seemed to pass by without many grievances, aside from his monthly transformations. Dumbledore kept his word, delivering Wolfsbane promptly each night before the full moon. He eventually learned that this was to keep a distance between him and Snape, who was the one brewing the potion. With some reluctance, Snape had also agreed to take care of his classes in his absence, which Remus had hoped would only last a day. But he, unfortunately, found the transformations to be still quite trying and therefore ended up keeping his distance for at least a couple of days. Dumbledore would heal his scars, give him Pepper-Up Potion, and send him back to his students at once.

Most all the students were brilliant, keen, eager to learn. And he enjoyed teaching them. Though the whispers that circulated around the Slytherin students didn't go unnoticed.

"Look at his robes! Does he honestly not care about his appearance?"

"God, he looks poor."

"He's quite filthy too, isn't he? Look at his clothes."

"He's such a fucking mess, look at him."

"How old is he anyway? 50?"

He ignored them the best he could, trying to carry on with his day-to-day. He wouldn't allow himself to think about it until nightfall when all the students had gone to bed. He deserved it, he felt, for all the years he stood by and watched his friends torment others. Children could be horrible little creatures. So he took his pride in those who wanted to be around him and wanted to learn.

When he walked past the boundaries of the Forbidden Forest, his mind took him back to memories of Chiara Lobosca. He would stop and breathe in the air. He wondered whatever had happened to the kind woman who had gifted him so much Wolfsbane in his time of need. He reminded himself of how kind and selfless people around him could be. He tried to convince himself that those who cared for him didn't want him to suffer.

He often wondered if he had made the right decision in returning to a place steeped in such conflicting memories and feelings, that it might have been better had he never returned. He'd taken his transformations back to the Shrieking Shack twice since being back. That, he thought, was the toughest thing of all. He saw James, Peter and Sirius in every corner, from the scratches on the wall to the bloodied footprints on the floor. He resented Dumbledore a little for not thinking to erase the evidence of his past life. Meeting Harry sporadically for private lessons and walks were the only things keeping him relatively sane, and able to return to the less than sacred place he spent hours with the former's father.

*