Summer of 1993.
"And I must draft an advertisement for the Daily Prophet too" Dumbledore added thoughtfully. "We'll be needing a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Dear me, we do seem to run through them, don't we?"

"Romulus, stop sending me letters with that stupid owl of yours!" Remus cried out when Igor tried, once again, to fly through the window, a huge letter tied to his paw. Utterly irritated, he took the owl inside and untied the letter. The envelope contended only two items: a sheet of paper and a copy of the Daily Prophet. To Remus' frustration, he hadn't the money to take a subscription of the wizard paper, so if he wanted to know what was happening in the wizard world, he had to visit the library or ask his brother or parents.
He unfolded the sheet of paper with Romulus' familiar handwriting.

Hi Animal,
The usual greeting. Remus was 'Animal' and Romulus was 'Irritating brat', 'Vampire' and 'Monster', depending on Remus' mood.

Just something I thought you'd be interested in. I encircled it with red. Don't thank me, thank Julia, because she saw it.
Greetz from me.

Julia was Romulus' wife. He had been married for almost six years now, and they had a little daughter named Thirza, who was now two and a half. She was capable of comprehensible language now, and Remus enjoyed chatting with her about nothing at all, like the ducks in the park she'd fed or the biscuit she was eating.
He unfolded the paper. The headline was about Gilderoy Lockhart, again, and about the mysterious loss of his memory, apparently because of a tragic accident at Hogwarts, where he had been teaching.
Since there was no trace of red ink on the first page, he leafed on, the second page, third, fourth, fifth… Still no red circle, until he reached the advertisement page.
Right under an advertisement for "Gilderoy Lockhart: my life", a book about Lockhart, including what had happened to him on Hogwarts, there was a simple advertisement with the Hogwarts crest as its head.

"Wanted.
A Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for the next term on Hogwarts. Required are a thorough knowledge of the most common Dark Arts and Creatures as well as Advanced. Practical experience not needed, but very much appreciated.
Hogwarts will provide meals, accommodation as well as other facilities you might require.
Letters of application can be send to Headmaster Albus Dumbledore."

Letters of application… Romulus had underlined that sentence three times. If anyone would hire a werewolf as a teacher, it would be Dumbledore. Other facilities you might require… A Whomping Willow perhaps? An, apparently, talented Potion Master, capable of producing a Wolfsbane Potion?
Remus took a quill and some parchment and started writing a letter to Dumbledore.
~*~
Some weeks later….
Remus anxiously turned the page of the Daily Prophet. He had taken a subscription for a few weeks, just to check… A relieved sigh escaped him when he saw the now familiar advertisement with the Hogwarts crest. Apparently, the job of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher wasn't popular, although rumours said it was one of the best paid jobs on Hogwarts.
He leafed back to the second page, ignored the photo of the large family that had won the annual Galleon draw (Remus had bought a ticket himself but hadn't won anything, and he wasn't eager on watching others enjoying the money he didn't get) and started filling in the crossword.
~*~
Again some weeks later…
The bucket slowly rose to the edge of the well. Remus took it and lifted the heavy, water filled bucket up. He carried it slowly and carefully back to the house and emptied it in the sink. Now he could finally do the dishes, or better, enchant the plate and his cup so they would wash themselves.
He left the tinkling dishes alone and walked outside again, enjoying the warm summer morning, the sound of the birds in the trees and the bright colours of the flowers in his garden and the ivy twines growing up the outside walls of his house.
A large grey owl approached and dropped a paper on the grass. The animal waited patiently until Remus had put some knuts in the little leather bag that was tied to the animal's paw. As it soared away, Remus bent down and picked up the Daily Prophet. The headlines immediately caught his attention, and he almost dropped the paper again when he read them: Sirius Black escaped!
There was a photo next to the article, which showed a filthy, skinny man with long tangled hair, a ratty beard and a suspicious but somewhat tired and depressed look in his eyes. In short, he didn't look at all like the Sirius Remus remembered. He covered the picture with his hand and quickly read the article.
Apparently, Sirius had managed to escape the attention of the Dementors, the Azkaban prison guards. Remus hadn't even known Sirius was still alive (now he thought of it, if he had died, it would've been all over the papers).
He couldn't exactly define what he was feeling; he was feeling so much at the same moment. Amazement, yes, maybe a flicker of fear – what was Sirius up to? – something that felt like sadness, though he couldn't explain that. And also an internal battle. He was the only person who knew Sirius was an Animagus, that he could change into a dog. Was that how he escaped? Was that how he avoided being caught? And, more important, should he tell someone Sirius could take the shape of a large black dog? But that would be like betrayal, to a lot of people. First of all to the Ministry of Magic, of course, but also betrayal to Dumbledore, because Remus had knowingly led his friends into danger when he had accepted their plans to become Animagi. And betrayal to Sirius. There was still something of that old Marauder loyalty, which went much farther than not telling a teacher who had pulled their latest prank. They had practically sworn to stand up for one another. Even though Sirius hadn't exactly done that when he'd betrayed Lily and James and had murdered Peter, Remus couldn't bring himself to telling someone what he knew.
Later, he told himself. I´ll tell someone later. If I'm ready. If they haven't found him then, I´ll tell it.
Maybe.
~*~
He could hardly sleep the days afterwards. And when he did fell asleep, finally, exhausted, he was haunted by images he did not wanted to recall afterwards. The nightmares always featured two black-haired men, a red-haired woman and, unexplainable, a bright full moon.
As the real full moon approached, it got harder for him to concentrate on anything but his dreams, and Sirius. He scanned the papers, not only the Daily Prophet, but also Muggle papers, to see where he had been spotted, to read what the Ministry was doing to try and catch him. He couldn't decide whether no news was in this case good or bad. Sirius seemed to have vanished from the earth, but Remus was certain he would appear somewhere, some day. He just didn't know when, and that question kept bugging him.
~*~
Remus walked about his garden, lost in thoughts. He did not see the colourful flowers, did not feel the warm august sun; he was too occupied with his thoughts. The subject was Sirius, once again. Should he tell someone, or not?
He was so busy arguing with himself, he didn't notice the barn owl zooming his way until it was already flying over the house. Because of its graceful flying and its seize, Remus immediately concluded it had to be an owl from Hogwarts. Anticipation and suspense immediately flowed through him. Who from Hogwarts would owl him, especially in the middle of the summer? He remembered suddenly that he had forgotten to check on the advertisement in the Daily Prophet for some weeks now. Could it be? He didn't dare hope.
It was oddly much like that one occasion, almost twenty-two years ago now, when he had been eleven, and hadn't been sure if he would be accepted to Hogwarts.
The barn owl flew right above Remus' head, hooted softly, and dropped a thin parchment letter with the all too familiar Hogwarts crest on it. Remus picked it up, his hands shaking a little. He turned the envelope around and saw his name in Dumbledore´s fine curly handwriting. Relief washed over him. News from Dumbledore couldn't be bad. He ignored the nasty little voice in his head that whispered something about Sirius and ripped the envelope open.
He took out a ticked and a small note. The ticket was for the Hogwarts Express, September the first, King's Cross Station, platform 9¾. The note only contained two words.
"Welcome back."