If she was completely honest with herself, Hazel was surprised that Remus kept writing. Not nearly as often as he did when they were in school, but often enough to keep up with her. He'd moved out to Yorkshire, finding a place where he could live in relative peace and quiet. For her part, she stayed in the Auror Office, at least until someone came knocking on her door late one night, telling her that she was needed elsewhere.
Dumbledore wasn't the last person she expected to see on her doorstep, but he was pretty far down the list. The last time she'd seen him was at Sev's trial, when he stood up in the middle of the Wizengamot and cleared his name. "Charming little place you have," he said, sweeping plum-colored robes looking very out of place in her largely Muggle-looking home. "I had a cousin who lived around here… oh, about seventy years ago now."
"To what do I owe the honor, Professor? Would you like some tea?"
"That would be lovely." He followed her to the kitchen, marveling at the kettle she'd picked up at a local shop. "I will not waste your time. I know you've just gotten home from work, and I imagine you must be very tired. I'm looking for a new Ghoul Studies professor."
Hazel turned to face him, crossing her arms and trying to size up the offer. "Why me? I'm an Auror. At least, I was. If you want Ghoul Studies, look for someone with magical creature experience, or, well, it is Dark Arts, I guess, but not the kind of Dark Arts I fought. Wait - why Ghoul Studies and not Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
"A curious question indeed," Dumbledore replied as the kettle began to whistle. "I've hired somewhat of an expert on dark creatures for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post already, someone much more in need of a job than yourself. Now that I think about it, it would be clever of me to switch the two of you, given his training… but he's the man for the job. Alastor tells me you fought more than your share of ghosts and ghouls and banshees, and that you were the best of your class when it came to dealing with dementors. Ah, thank you." He took a sip of his tea, noting, "Peppermint! Lovely!"
Hazel wasn't convinced. He always had a bigger plan in mind, and judging by the glint in his eye, Dumbledore was up to something. "Professor Dumbledore, why do you really want me there? You wouldn't be asking me to give up my career if it wasn't for a good reason. I'm not a ghoul expert, not by far, even if I could produce a corporeal Patronus by the time I was thirteen."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled behind familiar half-moon spectacles. "I've just hired the second of your old friends. As you know, one of them already works at Hogwarts. I will need someone to keep the peace between the two."
Remus. It had to be Remus. "They're adults. They know how to behave themselves."
"Alright," Dumbledore relented, seemingly with too much ease. "I know both of them have missed you, and both of them will soon need a friend. They already do. Consider it. The offer is open."
Staring into her steaming teacup, Hazel had to ask. She knew she shouldn't, but she had to. She was too curious not to. "How's he doing? Sev?" She looked up to meet Dumbledore's eye. "We wrote for a little while, but then he got wrapped up in all of the mess with the Vaults at Hogwarts, and I was busy in the Auror Office, and… Well, we're not the same people we were when we were sixteen."
"He is doing as best he can. A bit lonely, I'm sure. There aren't many professors his age, and, well, he's become a little bitter. The years have not been kind to him."
"I don't blame him," Hazel sighed. She was silent for a second before explaining, "Remus... I've kept track of Remus. He writes every month or so. Last time I heard from him he was out in Romania with Charlie Weasley, studying dragons as a break from being in Yorkshire. He told me he was headed to a hinkypunk grove in Wales soon. Or maybe it was grindylows? Either way, he's still staying in places where he won't hurt anyone on the full moon. There's a potion for it now, but it's so expensive…"
"Severus has agreed to prepare it for him every month. We have the resources at Hogwarts," Dumbledore told her, "though the Shrieking Shack is still there, should he deem it to be safer out away from the school."
Hazel set her cup down, everything falling into place. "When you say you want me to keep the peace… it's not about the two of them fighting, is it? They never did. They were never friends, but the actual fighting was always Sev and James and Sirius. You want me there because Remus is going to be terrified of that potion failing even if he takes it like he's supposed to, and because Sev is going to be terrified it'll fail too. He's been afraid of werewolves ever since our fifth year, and Remus has been afraid of hurting someone as long as he can remember…"
"They could both use a friend." Dumbledore polished off the last of his tea, levitating the cup to the sink with a flick of his wand. "Take some time to think about it, but I expect I will see you soon."
He left without another word, disapparating in the middle of her kitchen. Hazel stood there until she had finished her tea, turning the offer over in her mind. Without hesitating any further, she went into her office for a piece of parchment, writing out a quick letter to Dumbledore. When her owl had set off, she went downstairs again, taking a handful of the green powder that sat next to her fireplace. Throwing it into the flames, she waited until they turned a brilliant green, and then stuck her head through and into the Auror Office. "Martin, is Moody around? I need to talk to him. Tell him it's important - no one is in danger, but it's rather important."
Hogwarts was just like she remembered it. A few of the professors had retired, but the staff was largely the same. The biggest change was the shifting staircase. Hazel got there early on the morning of September first, unpacking her things in a comfortable suite of rooms adjoining Ravenclaw Tower. She passed a few people in the hall, but presumably most of the staff was busy getting ready for the next day's lessons.
The Grey Lady said hello as Hazel made her way up to the Ghoul Studies classroom. She would be between there and the library all day, bringing up piles of books before detouring to the training grounds for more supplies. As she was wheeling in a cart full of practice dummies, she noticed the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was propped open, music coming from the record player. Leaving the cart outside, she stepped into the room, smiling at the familiar dragon skeleton. It had been there since she was in school at the very least, if not well before that. "Remus?" Lupin turned to face her from where he had been writing on the board.
"Hazel!" They met in the middle of the classroom, hugging each other for the first time in a very long time. "How have you been? You never said you would be back here. Are you teaching or just visiting?"
"I'm taking over Ghoul Studies. Just down the hall," she told him with a smile. "I didn't know until a week or so ago. Dumbledore showed up at my house and asked me personally, and well, it was time to get out of the Ministry. One of the Junior Undersecretaries is making our work in the Auror Office next to impossible, insisting there's no threat of anything out there and cutting our funding. Even Moody's thinking of retiring thanks to her."
He looked her over, both of them noticing how tired the other looked. The Auror Office had taken its toll on her, and the constant moving and constant fear had taken its toll on him too. But they still recognized the young kids they had been, the years of adventures they'd shared not all that far behind them. As they caught up, if either of them had taken a moment to glance towards the door, they would have noticed the dark shadow that lurked in the hall for a few moments before disappearing down one of the school's many secret passageways.
A few hours later Hazel was seated at the high table, sandwiched between Remus and Professor Flitwick. Everything looked different from up here. Before the Wizarding War, she never would have expected to be back there. Even after, when things had settled down at the Ministry, she had been happy there. But then Dumbledore had told her something she couldn't ignore.
She looked to the side, taking it all in. Hagrid, who she had always gotten along well with, sat at the far end of the table. Sybill Trelawney had joined them, coming down from her rooms for the beginning of the year, one of her rare appearances among the other professors. Aurora Sinistra, who had taught in Astronomy Tower well before Hazel had gone to school, looked like she hadn't aged a day. McGonagall, who had been a constant advisor, and then a friend, since her first Transfiguration class. They'd kept in touch after Hazel had left for the Ministry. Remus, of course. Flitwick, on her other side. Madam Hooch, who she didn't know well but had gotten along with at the staff meeting before dinner. And Sev. He'd said a curt hello to her at the afternoon staff meeting, but they hadn't talked much.
The food was just as good as she'd remembered it, a feast suddenly appearing with anything they could have ever dreamed of in reach. After dinner, Dumbledore gave a few parting words before the professors stood to lead their students back to their dormitories. Dutifully following Flitwick, Hazel introduced herself to the Ravenclaws, ushering them out of the hall and towards their tower. After a few brief words of welcome, Flitwick went one way and she went the other, both headed for their rooms while the Prefects started to get the first years oriented.
With a flick of her wand Hazel set her fireplace ablaze, unbuttoning her cloak and hanging it next to the door. Her things had been carried in for her, a trunk and a couple of boxes stacked neatly behind the sofa that was positioned to stare into the fireplace. A small desk sat in the window nearby, Filch having left a crate of books beside it. Another door led to her bedroom, much nicer than the group of four-poster beds that she'd shared with five other girls in the tower so many years before.
With a yawn, she set about getting ready for bed. She was about to settle down on the sofa when she heard a strange noise. Getting up to investigate, she found an owl tapping at her window, patiently waiting with a note. The owl perched on the back of one of her chairs as Hazel inspected the letter. There was nothing written on the outside, a simple wax seal giving her no indication who it could have been from. The handwriting inside, though, was unmistakable.