Dear Mum and Da,
Hello! Hogwarts is really really wonderful! I still can't believe I'm here. The other Gryffindors are really great people. James is good to have around because he seems to understand all the subjects a whole lot better than the rest of us, and when we're all working too hard, Sirius always has something to distract us with. Have you ever heard of fireworks that you can light off inside? The first time he let them off in our room I thought someone must have hit me over the head! Peter is pretty quiet, but he's nice too.
I think I've already found my three favorite classes -- Charms, where you learn to do the sort of magic the Muggles write about in storybooks; Transfiguration, where you turn one thing into another (I finally got a nail to turn into a pencil the other day!); and Defense Against the Dark Arts, where we're learning about dark creatures. I'm not sure what's going to happen once we reach werewolves, but I'm sure Professor Dumbledore has something taken care of. He's the most amazing person I've ever met in my whole life! He's a bit odd, though -- I don't remember this, but Sirius swears he stood up and starting saying "Ooshy gooshy galoshes! Icky sticky bubbly tuna!" after we all got here. I'm not sure how much I believe Sirius, though: he's usually messing with people if he gets the chance.
And please, enjoy tomorrow evening. Don't worry about me. Professor Dumbledore has something all worked out. And since it's a Thursday, and I have class on Friday, on Friday morning I get an Exhaustion Elixir like you made me from Professor Miasma to keep me awake until the weekend. I was so proud of you Da when Professor Miasma told me you were a great Potions Master! And now I can understand a bit of what you do. It's so complicated -- I don't know how you pull it off!
I'm sorry, I would love to write more, but Peter is telling me that dinner might be over soon, so we have to get downstairs. Love,
Remus
* * *
Early Wednesday morning, before the dawn began seeping into the horizon, Remus sat up, rolled out of bed, and dressed himself. Not only was his stomach growling, an uneasiness was prowling the edges of his consciousness. Tomorrow night. Tomorrow night, and he had no place to go. What was he going to do, lock himself in the dormitory? He shuddered at the idea, imagining the state of the room and the awful explanation he'd have to give.
In the half-light before the sunrise, he quietly wound his way down the spiral staircase, crossed the common room, and crawled through the portrait hole. Technically, at this hour, Filch couldn't nail him for anything, but he didn't wish to take any chances. He crept silently along the hallways, checked around corners, and edged his way down the marble staircase. As he crossed the floor, intent on making a silent entrance to the Great Hall, someone said his name and he froze.
"Good morning, Remus!"
His breath caught in his throat, and he looked up, bracing himself -- but it was Professor Dumbledore advancing on him, and looking not in the least like he would punish him. Remus offered a timid smile. Dumbledore beamed at him. "Down for an early breakfast?"
"I-I suppose -- erm, yes, sir," he answered.
Dumbledore nodded. "Have you enjoyed your first month here at Hogwarts?"
Remus's face lit up. "Oh, yes sir! Everything is wonderful! I--" He suddenly remembered himself, and stopped, a dismal expression on his face. Dumbledore watched him.
"But now the first month is drawing to close."
"Yes, sir," he replied miserably. Dumbledore studied him for a moment, and then said,
"Would you mind accompanying me for a short stroll through the grounds? I find that a walk through the early morning mists is quite an invigorating start to a new day." Remus nodded, supposing he couldn't very well refuse. The pair exited the front hall, Remus marveling at Dumbledore's opening charm on the heavy front doors, and walked down the steps. The cool Scottish air made the young boy shiver, but the old wizard strode ahead as though unaware. He would sometimes remark on the beauty of the lake, or the noise of the waking birds. Then, almost catching Remus unawares, he murmured, "We have a procedure in place to get you to a safe haven tomorrow evening. Do you see that willow tree over there? The one that's swaying more than the other trees?" Remus nodded, listening hard.
"The Whomping Willow guards a tunnel that will lead you to an old house in the village of Hogsmeade. When you feel ready, you are to go to the Hospital Wing and find Madame Pomfrey. You have seen how long it takes to reach the Willow -- you must allow ample time. Madame Pomfrey will escort you there and let you in. After that, you follow the passageway until you reach a door. You must enter the house, and remain there until Madame Pomfrey comes to collect you at dawn. Do you understand me?" He gave Remus a serious, trusting look. Remus nodded, an attentive, solemn expression on his face. Dumbledore continued.
"Tomorrow morning at breakfast, you shall receive an owl informing you that your mother has fallen ill, and that you must go to her as soon as your lessons are over. If your friends ask you, you may show them the letter as proof. I do not know what you will tell them next month, but I trust you can more than handle the matter." Remus felt his stomach twist. He had never been good at lying. I guess you're just going to have to learn, aren't you.
"Well," Dumbledore exclaimed, "I think that has put a good appetite in me! Shall we go back and have some breakfast, do you think?"
"I should very much like that, sir," Remus answered, smiling a little.
* * *
Sirius began interrogating him as soon as he sat down at the Gryffindor table. "Remus! Where have you been?"
He tried to stay calm. "I couldn't sleep, so I went downstairs early." Sirius raised an eyebrow.
"Well, at least we've found you now. Look, I've had an idea. A moment of late-night brilliance that I wanted to share with you."
Remus's grip on his spoon suddenly tightened. He looked up, alarmed. James was smiling, Peter looked uncomfortable, and Sirius had a most disturbing grin plastered across his features.
"What is it??"
"Snape. We're getting him back for being such a git to you in McKinnon." The color returned to Remus's knuckles. Sirius pretended to examine his fingernails casually. "On some inside information, I have discovered, with great sympathy of course, that poor dear Sevvie has an aversion to Chizpurfles. Seems they bring him out in a rash." Sirius smirked. "Perhaps the reason he keeps himself so greasy is that he hopes he shan't be... infested."
"Sirius wants to dump them on Snape's head after Defense," James informed them, cutting to the chase. "I'll have no part of it. It's too easy to get into trouble." He paused. "But I think I'll hang about to see the look on his face..."
"Wimp. I intend on corrupting you first."
Remus looked skeptically at Sirius. "Surely you don't think it's going to work, do you?" He was surprised by his response: he should have said "That's really not necessary" or "I can handle him" or "Do you really want a detention?"
Sirius's voice was innocent. "I heard Professor Binns complaining to Filch that they were ransacking his desk. So, before he came in, I scooped a couple up. To lessen the problem -- you know how Filch is overworked." Remus stared.
"Where are they??"
"In our room!" Sirius answered, a triumphant expression on his face. "Oh, don't look at me like that, I've got a Sealing Spell on it, they can't get out." He grinned again. "There ought to be plenty of them by now -- you know how they breed..."
Peter shook his head, and swallowed a mouthful of scrambled eggs. "I can't believe you're going to do it. I mean, what if they get all over the hallway and damage them?" He shuddered. "What if they get on us?"
"Spoilsport! Look, they're common household pests, you can have them off in no time. Binns just couldn't take care of it 'cause he's a bloody ghost. He can't move things."
James was sighing. "He won't do it," he muttered to Remus. "He's not that dumb."
Remus cast a sidelong glance at Sirius, who was rubbing his hands together and cackling in a fake deep voice. He raised on eyebrow. "I wouldn't be so sure..."
* * *
He felt odd, walking the halls of Hogwarts in Muggle clothes. Of course, if he'd brought his robes along with him, they'd be ruined. And the others probably wouldn't notice that his dresser was still full. They were still busy congratulating themselves on Sirius's prank when Remus had left. He'd slipped out, unobtrusive, and was now hurrying toward the hospital wing.
Once inside, he saw a plump, youngish witch fussing over a surly, hunched figure. Remus couldn't help smiling, even once he got a closer look at Snape, with his swollen face and angry red hives. But the kicker was his hair. Apparently, to rid him of the lice-like Chizpurfles, Snape had been forced to wash his hair. It stuck up, as though unsure of what to do with itself in this state. As Remus approached, Snape turned his head and glared at him.
"Hullo Severus," said Remus, secretly and guiltily relishing the experience. "How are you feeling?"
Snape's jaw couldn't open, on account of his still-swelling mouth. He merely continued to glower. The witch turned her sharp eye to Remus. She wasn't that much taller than he was.
"Are you a friend? Or have you come for some other injury? Honestly, the things students get themselves into --" She seemed to automatically grab Remus's arm and feel for his pulse.
"Excuse me, ma'am, I'm -- I'm Remus Lupin--" he tried awkwardly.
She dropped his wrist. "Oh! You're the boy!"
He was suddenly very aware of Snape sitting there, listening. He shifted uncomfortably. "Are you... Madame Pomfrey?"
The witch nodded, and began bustling around. "I am. You sir --" she pointed at Snape "-- you sit there. Madame Fibula will be with you in a moment." She took Remus around the shoulders. "Come with me, dear."
As soon as they had hustled out of the Hospital Wing, she turned to him and asked quietly, in a small voice, "How much time do we have?"
Remus glanced out the window. "About an hour and a half," he answered calmly.
Madame Pomfrey tensed. "Oh dear..."
"Really," he protested, "I think it's going to be fine. Dumbledore took me to the Willow yesterday, and I'll have plenty of time tonight."
At this, the nurse relaxed a little, but she still pursed her lips and said, "Well, that's alright, but you ought to know that the passageway to the house is a long way off. It goes all the way to Hogsmeade, in fact."
"Hogsmeade?" Remus repeated, alarmed. "How far is that?"
"Well, you came off the train at Hogsmeade station, so that ought to give you some idea..."
Remus was silent for a moment. "Well, I'll just run, then." He shot another look at Madame Pomfrey, who didn't quite seem to have faith in him. "Really! I think it'll be fine!" She did not reply.
They reached the Willow while the sun was still above the mountains. Remus could tell he had left himself ample time. "Stand back," Madame Pomfrey ordered, throwing her arm across his chest. "There's a reason it's called Whomping." She walked over to a small bush and bent down, rustling through the leaves. She emerged holding a long stick. She bent down low and approached the tree. The tree shook indignantly and began flailing a few of its branches. Madame Promfrey took careful aim somewhere on the trunk and pushed. The tree shuddered and came to a halt. The nurse stood up and wiped her hands brusquely. "There you are, then," she said, unsure of what to do next. "Go on, then. You'll find a hole between the roots. That leads to the passageway." She kept looking at Remus, and she was biting her lip nervously. "You're sure you'll be alright?" she asked, her voice quavering for the first time.
He smiled in what he hoped was an encouraging way. "Thank you for your concern. I've been doing this since I was five, it's not much to worry about." He winced as he said it, the most bare-faced lie he'd ever told. The transformation was never nothing to worry about. It hurt. But he'd best put on a brave face, or the school might wonder if they should keep him. After another uncomfortable moment, he turned and walked to the base of the tree. He found the hole quickly, and with one last smile and a wave at Madame Pomfrey, he pushed himself inside.
He dropped about four feet, and as soon as he touched the ground rows of torches flared up in their sconces, lighting the way. They seemed to go a long way in the distance, continuing around a curve that looked pretty far away. He gulped, and began to run. The tunnel seemed endless. He could not tell how long he had been running when the first twitching pains shot through him. He gasped, and doubled up. After a moment, he collected his resolve and picked up his speed. After another long spurt, during which the pains began coming closer and faster, he reached the said door. He wrenched it open, and slammed it shut. Instantly he heard several sets of locks clicking. After a bout of hyperventilation, he turned and tried the door. It didn't budge. He frowned grimly. He could only hope it held when the wolf attacked it.
He was sure he didn't have much time left. He began pulling off his clothes, and folded them in a neat pile by the door, hiding them under a chest so he wouldn't be driven mad by the human smell. He was soon stripped down to his boxers (his mother was one thing: he refused to let the school nurse find him naked). He shivered, crossed him arms, and waited.
"Best get far away from the entrance," he told himself. "Don't tempt it." He stumbled out of the room (there were no fires, for good reason) and began climbing a decrepit staircase. It ended in a long hallway. Another level of stairs rose a little further down. He was nearing the top of this second set of stairs when the moonlight hit. It caught Remus by surprise, and he fell down the stairs, landing in a bundle at the base. He bit his lip, determined not to scream. But to no avail. Being in this strange place, with no absolute friends to return to in the morning, made it hurt even more than usual.
* * *
Rosmerta sat up in her room above the Hog's Head. A horrible sound had woken her up, a sound more painful and frightening than any she'd ever heard in her life. She rolled over and shook Ortman, her current man, awake. "Did you hear that?" she asked in a breathless, panicky voice.
"Hear wot?" he mumbled groggily.
The noise ripped through Hogsmeade once again. "That!" she whispered fiercely. "What d'you suppose that it?" She huddled up against him, her eyes wide and her heart racing. Ortman frowned, and put his arm around her.
"Well, love, whatever it is, I won't let it get yer." Rosmerta shivered, and hoped it would end soon. But no such luck. She was still up at dawn, when the last of the shrieks and howls had faded into ominous silence.