September 1993.

"He could feel the moon waiting just at the edge of the day, like a secret lover who knew that though he ought not to come to her, he would not be able to stay away."

"I figured that, since Neville appeared to be a somewhat frightened person, and since he was so humiliated by Severus, he would be the perfect person to try and make a first move against the Boggart. I asked him what his worst fear was, and it turned out to be Severus! Well, how do you make him appear less frightening? There are various ways, but I thought that this one was the best. I could've guessed though that the story would be all over Hogwarts in a matter of hours."

Dumbledore nodded. "That is indeed unfortunate."

"Especially that Severus didn't think it as funny as everybody else did," said Remus casually, taking another sip of tea from his chipped mug. He and the Headmaster were sitting in Remus' office. Dumbledore had inquired after Remus' side of the story about the Boggart. The school was whizzing with gossip, one more fantastic than the other, about how Snape had been dressed up in Neville's Grandmother's clothes. Snape – how surprising – had not been amused, and when he'd head the story, he'd practically had a heart-attack and exploded with rage. Or so rumours said. 

"Would you think it funny if a student dressed you, or at least a Boggart that took your shape, up in such an, ehm, original outfit?" Dumbledore wanted to know, his eyes shining.

"No, but it would never happen anyway, because I'm not – " Remus struck a dramatic pose, and cried out "- Severus Snape, feared Potion Master and Head of Slytherin House!"  Dumbledore chuckled.

"Thank God I'm not," Remus continued. "I'd hate having to act like him all day."

"It is just how he is, Remus," said Dumbledore friendly. "At least, that's how he is when you don't know him very well. He's simply not into being friendly, he likes his solitude."

"Why would somebody want solitude?" asked Remus, his tone somewhat bitter.

"Why? There are as many reasons as there are people. And who are we to dictate how other people should live? Let him live his own life, Remus."

Remus sighed. "Okay, I´ll be good. I won't annoy him anymore. I'll try, at least."

"Excellent." Dumbledore rose to his feet. "I must be going. Let's try and get the same promise out of Severus."

"Might I suggest Imperio?" Remus clapped his hands before his mouth. "I didn't just say that."

"Remus…" said Dumbledore sternly.

"Okay, I did," sighed Remus. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Good. Oh, before I forget to mention it, we have a Staffmeeting in two weeks."

"What day?" asked Remus, taking his agenda.

"Thursday."

"That's three days after the full moon, which is on a Saturday," said Remus, leafing through his agenda.

"Then I´ll also ask Severus to make you some Wolfsbane Potion," said the Headmaster. He smiled. "Maybe it's best when you stay away from the dungeons for a couple of days, unless you want your ears hexed off."

Remus bit back a sarcastic comment about Snape´s ears being hexed off, and instead he nodded. "Thank you, professor."

"I´ll leave you to, well, whatever it was you were doing."

"Grading essays, actually," sighed Remus, rolling his eyes. "With you gone, I have to find a new excuse for not doing it…"

~*~

The next few days passed by fairly peacefully. With the Boggart, Remus had earned himself the respect of the entire school – save the Slytherins of course – and for a while he enjoyed the approving glances of his students (he wisely ignored Draco Malfoy´s comment that his Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher dressed like a house-elf). But Remus' new-found popularity was soon forgotten because of a far more important matter. Hagrid.

The Gamekeeper-made-teacher was just as popular, but his style of teaching had proven to be far more dangerous. Young Malfoy had been attacked by one of Hagrid´s hippogriffs, one called Buckbeak. Remus, knowing the friendly Hagrid, was sure it had been an accident, and he even suspected the Slytherin of intentionally setting Buckbeak off, but that didn't help matters much. The animal was likely to be executed.

And there was also Harry, who had to deal with his very own problems. Remus couldn't help but see the boy as, well, practically his own son. Harry looked so much like James it was eerie, and it was hard for Remus not to care about the boy, to favour him above the other students. Professor McGonagall had told Remus about what had happened during Harry's first Divination class, when they were studying the tea leaves. Remus had to admit the boy was keeping himself exceptionally good, considering that prediction and the rumours about Sirius Black.

Yes, Sirius. Remus thought briefly about him while he was walking down the Marble Staircase, towards the dungeons, for his last dose of Wolfsbane. He was surrounded by cheerful students, who were happy that it was Saturdayevening – finally, it seemed – but he wasn't feeling cheerful. Not at all, actually. The escaped prisoner Black had been seen not so very far away from Hogwarts. The staff was worried, but probably none of them more than Remus. Remus knew that Sirius knew of the hidden entrances to Hogwarts, he had found most of them himself. Would he be able to sneak past the Dementors, using one of those entrances? And if he could, what then? Kill Harry? And then? Dumbledore? It could very well happen. Sirius had been a follower of Voldemort, after all, so Dumbledore would be next.

And what if Sirius was in his dog form? Nobody would suspect an innocent looking dog. The only person alive who knew Sirius' other form was Remus. Should he tell anyone? But if he told someone, it would be admitting that he'd broken the rules. Dumbledore would never trust him again…

He almost walked headlong into a heavy wooden door. He blinked, then he recognised the dungeons. Or better: he recognised the stench.

Others would not probably not qualify the scents hanging in the air as "stench", but to Remus and his sensitive nose, it was like opening a sewer. His nostrils were being attacked from different sides, and he felt the urge to throw up or something. He swallowed heavily, then braved himself, breathed through his mouth, and knocked on the door.

"Enter."

~*~

Snape´s office is bigger than mine. That was Remus' first thought when he entered the Potion Master's domain. Here, the stench was possibly even worse than outside.

Snape was sitting behind his desk, a black quill in his hand and a scroll in front of him. The dungeon was lit only by a few candles, creating a dark and threatening atmosphere. The flickering candles cast a restless shadow on the walls, and it almost seemed as if the slimy things in the glass jars were moving. Remus felt a shiver go down his spine.

Or maybe that was just the stench.

"What are you doing here?" Snape spoke barely audible, his voice just above a whisper. He didn't seem too pleased to see Remus. The feeling was mutual.    

"I've come for the Wolfsbane Potion," Remus replied, breathing in shallow gasps. For the last day, thank God.

"I thought Dumbledore would bring it to you." Snape made no effort whatsoever to get up and get the potion, so Remus had to endure the smell. He had no idea how much longer he could take.

"He was going to," he said, "but he told me he had something else to do."

"Yes, something more important, I bet, than bringing a potion to a werewolf." Finally, Snape rose to his feet and strode (you could hardly call it something else with those long robes) to a shimmering cauldron. The liquid in it was thick, and it's colour was somewhere between green and grey. In one word: disgusting. Remus flinched, and Snape, seeing the expression on his face, smirked. The Potion Master took a goblet from the table, picked up a spoon and poured some of the potion into the goblet. Then he held it out to Remus, who took it and immediately knew where the stench was coming from.

Remus' head jerked sideways in an involuntary spasm and his hand flew to his nose. "How on earth can you stand that?!" he said.

"What?" Snape replied, his voice irritated.

"Never mind." Remus held the goblet firmly in one hand, tried not to think about the smell, and swallowed it all in three large gulps. He threw the goblet back onto the table and made his way out of the dungeons without a further word to Snape.

After five minutes of studying his bathroom, especially the toilet, everything in his stomach was back to normal again…

~*~

Remus watched the night fall through the windows of his office. He was wearing barely more than a T-shirt and loose-fitting robes. He was ready for the transformation, and at the same time dreading it. The same feeling he had every month, only this time the feeling of anxiety (and fear?) was worse than usual. He knew that he would keep his human mind with the Wolfsbane Potion, he had experienced it before, but that also meant he would fully experience the pain of the transformation. And that was not something he was looking forward to. On the contrary, actually…

A sting of pain almost made him go through his right leg. It always started with his right leg, the leg in which he had been bitten, so long ago. He quickly limped towards the rug in front of the fireplace and sat down. Something itchy ran over his legs like thousands of spiders. A lightbrown fur already covered his feet, his legs… he took of his robes and the T-shirt and watched himself transform, objectively, as if it wasn't his own body but someone else's.

Look, there it goes, hair on my hips, on my stomach, funny how it climbs upwards. My arms, and now my hands are gone.. o my God. The pain…

After the fur always came the snap of bones. He gasped for breath. The pain was so intense he had to bite his lower lip until it bled to keep himself from screaming. If he hadn't been so occupied with that, he would've been able to see how his hands and feet changed into claws. The bones moved as if there was something crawling under his skin. It was sickening, sickening fascinating.

It seemed to him that it took hours, but in reality, it was only a minute or ten. It took a mere ten minutes to completely reform his spine and his bones, to grow a thick lightbrown fur, to make his eyes a darker yellow, to reshape his ears and to make his nails grow an inch. Ten minutes to change from man to wolf.

Professor Remus J. Lupin was no longer there. Instead, there was a huge wolf crouched on the rug in front of the fireplace. For a moment, it sniffed interestedly when its nose picked up the smell of humans, then Remus got control of the animal. He yawned. He couldn't do anything now, so what was the use in staying awake?

He curled up on the rug and fell asleep.

~*~

The next morning, he woke up to see the moon just above the horizon. It wouldn't take long now… sure enough, he could feel the itching start again. His body was still aching from the first change, but he would have to undergo it all one more time. He waited patiently for it to start. The sight was less nauseating now. This time you couldn't see the moving bones that good because of the thick fur.

When the painful process was finished, he just lay there, gasping for breath, on the rug. He couldn't care less that he was bruised and bare naked. No person in their right mind would come in at this time anyway.

He got cold after a while, so, with some effort, he picked himself up from the floor and slowly made his way to his bathroom. He took a long, hot shower. He just sat there on the floor and let the warm water fall on him. He nearly fell asleep, but remembered just in time that it wasn't a good thing to wake up looking like one large wrinkle, so he got up again, sighing, turned off the water and limped to his medicine cabinet, behind his mirror.

A pale, hollow-eyed face stared at him, and it took a while before he realised he was looking at himself.

"Remus, you look like a living corpse," he told his reflection. Mirror-Remus said the same thing, and he heartily agreed with himself. He opened the medicine cabinet and took out a purple bottle with a transparent liquid. He swallowed the medicine in one gulp and quickly limped to his bed. The rather strong painkiller was a mix of a sleeping potion and the wizard form of aspirin. Remus would be in a deep, near-unconsciousness sleep while his body fixed itself up as good as it could. The potion worked fast, really fast, so he had to be on a soft underground, preferably his bed, or he would be walking around with a bruise on his head tomorrow. The potion didn't heal bruises.

Remus had hardly rested his head on his pillow or he felt the familiar drowsiness. His vision became blurred, and he had just enough consciousness left to pull the covers over himself. Then, the world went a quiet, peaceful black.