20 April 1976
Remus trudged down the first floor corridor toward Professor McGonagall's office, his spirits low. He knew exactly what was in store for him—the other fifth years had been discussing this meeting for weeks, reading through pamphlets and chatting excitedly about what N.E.W.T.-level classes Professor McGonagall might recommend for them.
Remus hadn't partaken in these conversations. He hadn't even looked at any of the pamphlets. It didn't matter—none of this mattered for him, and there was no point fooling himself into believing otherwise.
He arrived outside Professor McGonagall's study at a quarter to four, precisely on time. Raising his hand, he knocked twice.
"Enter," came Professor McGonagall's stern voice from behind the door, and Remus reached out and pushed it open.
Professor McGonagall looked up from her desk, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Ah, good afternoon, Mr. Lupin. Please have a seat. We have much to discuss."
Remus did as he was told, sinking into the chair opposite Professor McGonagall's and swallowing heavily as his eyes fell on the enormous mass of multi-colored pamphlets on her desk. Why was she wasting her time on him? Remus wondered desperately. She might as well dismiss him from her office already—because even if by some unforeseen miracle he graduated from Hogwarts with ten Outstanding O.W.L.s and ten Outstanding N.E.W.T.s, with letters of recommendation from every single one of his teachers, he had no hope of achieving anything Professor McGonagall seemed to think he could.
"Well, Mr. Lupin, this meeting is to discuss any career ideas you might have, and to help you decide which subjects you should continue for your sixth and seventh years," Professor McGonagall said crisply, shuffling the many pamphlets littering her desk into one semi-organized pile. "Have you given any thought to what you might like to pursue after you leave Hogwarts?"
Remus averted his gaze from hers, staring down at his knees. "Er…no, Professor. I…haven't."
Professor McGonagall frowned briefly at him over her square spectacles, but she nodded. "Very well," she said, pulling forward a nearby scroll of parchment and unraveling it. "Looking at your marks, you certainly excel in Defense Against the Dark Arts—and your Transfiguration, Charms, and Arithmancy scores have been steadily high. Your Potions mark has been slightly more volatile, but I'm confident you will perform well enough in your O.W.L. to continue with the class…"
Remus had to repress a snort at this. Slightly more volatile—Potions had always been his weakest subject, and it certainly didn't help that even after five years of teaching Remus, Professor Slughorn was as nervous and jittery around him as he'd been the first time they'd met.
"…Your extracurriculars are admirable—I know you spend a fair amount of time tutoring younger students. And Professor Abscissa tells me the Gobstones Team wouldn't function without you—"
"Professor," Remus interrupted, squirming in his seat, unable to stomach her optimism any longer. "Why are we having this meeting?"
Professor McGonagall's eyes shot up to meet his, her expression one of surprise. She stared at him. "Pardon me?"
Remus swallowed heavily. "You don't have to pretend, Professor," he said in a low voice. "We…we don't have to have this meeting. I know I haven't got any job prospects."
It was the first time Remus had said the words aloud, and they left a bitter taste in his mouth. He hadn't brought up his concerns with anyone else—not with his parents, not with James, nor Sirius, nor Peter, nor Lily. He knew exactly what their reactions would be—James and Sirius would likely beat him over the head for even thinking such things. Lily would give him a sharp look and an equally cutting retort. Peter would be sympathetic and supportive.
None of them would accept the truth of the situation—that Remus's future did not resemble any of theirs in the slightest. James and Sirius were set to become Aurors, as they'd always dreamed. Lily would be the finest Healer St. Mungo's had ever seen. Peter would likely join the Ministry's research committee. And Remus…
Seven years. Professor Dumbledore had promised him seven years of happiness, and he had kept his word. But very soon, Remus would be out in the real world, with the word 'WEREWOLF' stamped across his face in bright red ink—and no employer in his right mind was going to be fooled—
"Have a biscuit, Lupin," Professor McGonagall's voice cut abruptly into Remus's thoughts. He jumped in his seat, blinking.
"Have—what?" he asked, staring at her.
"Have a biscuit," she repeated calmly, gesturing toward the tartan tin of Ginger Newts she had propped open on the edge of her desk.
Remus stared down at the biscuits for a moment, then back up at Professor McGonagall, utterly flummoxed. Finally, very slowly, he reached out and took a Newt.
Professor McGonagall watched him closely for several moments. Then, suddenly, she pushed the pile of pamphlets on her desk aside and leaned toward Remus.
"I think it might interest you to know, Mr. Lupin," Professor McGonagall said quietly, "that since your very first year at Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore has been in contact with a few highly trustworthy employers both inside and outside of the Ministry. And they have told him that so long as you continue to keep your marks high, and the headmaster vouches for you, they won't have a problem hiring you."
Remus's breath caught in his chest. He gawked at Professor McGonagall, his jaw slack.
"You are a talented, young wizard, Mr. Lupin," Professor McGonagall continued seriously. "Your talents are too valuable not to be taken seriously. If I may speak plainly, Remus, I think you would make a wonderful addition to the Hogwarts staff someday."
Remus's mouth was so dry it felt like parchment. Surely Professor McGonagall wasn't saying what he thought she was saying. How had she known? How had she known that, deep inside Remus's head, some tiny part of his brain had always believed he would make a good teacher?
"Now, I must clarify that Professor Dumbledore isn't in the practice of hiring eighteen-year-olds to his staff," Professor McGonagall said, looking pointedly at Remus over her square spectacles. "So, you will have to wait a few years after you leave school to apply—involve yourself in something else in the meantime, perhaps an apprenticeship, or a Ministry position. But I am confident that you would make an excellent professor, especially in Defense Against the Dark Arts—a position we are always struggling to fill."
Remus could only gape at her. There was a finality, a conviction in Professor McGonagall's tone that left little room for argument. Her green eyes were razor sharp behind her spectacles. Remus stammered, "Professor…the parents—they would never let their kids learn from—"
"There is certain information that only trusted members of the staff are privileged to know," Professor McGonagall continued, as though Remus hadn't spoken. "Serious medical conditions of students or professors fall under this category. I have no doubt that Professor Dumbledore would personally take care of any necessary accommodations."
Remus was truly at a loss for words, now. His brain was struggling to keep up with his heart. Professor McGonagall had just handed him his wildest dreams on a silver platter.
"Well, I'm afraid this must conclude our meeting," Professor McGonagall said, glancing at the clock on the wall behind Remus's head. "I believe it is time for Miss Deverill's appointment."
Remus nodded, clambering hastily to his feet, which felt rather like jelly. Making a concentrated effort to put one foot in front of the other, Remus somehow managed to reach the door of Professor McGonagall's study without stumbling. He had his hand around the doorknob when Professor McGonagall spoke again.
"Mr. Lupin, one last thing."
Remus turned around. The barest hint of a smile was playing at Professor McGonagall's lips.
"I understand that it is likely difficult for you to believe, but I want to assure you that there are still good people in this world," she said.
Remus's throat swelled shut with emotion; it was several moments before he found it in himself to unstick his voice.
"Thank you, Professor."
"My pleasure, Mr. Lupin."
Author's Note:
Chapter notifications have been a nightmare lately! I don't know if you all got the notification for the previous chapter, but if you didn't, I do hope you go back and take a look. It's a fun one. :)
Anywho, extra chapter this week because I have my last final exam this evening, and then it's finally SUMMER! Yay!
Hugs,
Ari
