Professor McGonagall was sitting at her desk when the news came.
"One of your students has just woken up in the hospital wing."
She put down the transfiguration homework she'd been marking and sailed down the corridors. The new deputy head had only arrived at Hogwarts this year. She had been educated here but now she was back as a Professor. She wondered whether any of her teachers had had to deal with problems like this. She paused outside the door. She was almost afraid to go in because there, lying in one of the beds would be a monster. Professor McGonagall was not an evil woman, but she still suffered prejudices. She had pleaded with the headmaster to reconsider about letting the boy in. "What good would it do?" she had asked. But the Head had overruled her. Then when the boy was sorted into her own house she had panicked. She'd tried everything to avoid him, but now she had to go in and see 'it'.
"I want you to go and see him when he gets back. He'll be very shaken up and in need of a friendly face." Though the face had smiled those bright blue eyes had looked at her and known she feared the boy. Known, but still forced her to go.
How could he have taken it so easily? Calmly allowed a werewolf to walk among the children? But then she was not Dumbledor. She had had to fill his shoes in so many ways. Transfigurations teacher, head of Gryffindor house, deputy head of the school. She still felt that she could never outshine his shadow.
And now it was time to go in. A rap on the door. An answering call. The door swinging open to reveal rows of perfect white beds. The smell of a hospital.
"He's through here. I set up a curtain so no one would see him."
The worried expression on the matron's face. The sound of shoes on linoleum. The light streaming through the high windows.
"He's in quite a state, but I've patched him up as best I can."
The jangle and swish of the green curtain being drawn back.
"I'll leave you with him then."
The receding tap of the matron's shoes. The bed covered in books. The pale figure in it. The taste of fear.
"Hello."
"Hello Professor."
"How are you feeling Remus?"
"Not very well Professor. But I'm sure I'll be better soon."
Fear.
"Good."
The rustle of papers. The creak as she sits on the chair. Fear.
"What are you doing?"
Fear.
"My homework. I've got a lot to catch up on."
Surprise.
"But you're ill."
"Yes, the matron says I've caught bronchitis and I broke a few bones. It... it was worse than usual. But if I want to come to school" breaking off into coughs, "I've got to do the work."
Then her perception changed. The light seemed all the brighter. And in this new light, she saw not a monster, but a sad, frightened boy. A boy who wants an education and a chance. He'd been through more than she had in his eleven years.
"I'm sorry Remus" McGonagall said quietly.
"Why?" Remus asked.
"Because I've been afraid. I've avoided you for weeks when you needed my help."
"Professor," he paused, "Thank you. Not many would admit that. I understand."
McGonagall could almost have cried seeing him sit there saying "I understand." It made it so much worse.
"I could give you extra time on your homework. Maybe talk to the other teachers?"
"No thank you. I don't want that kind of help. I want to earn my place at this school just the same as everybody else."
She saw the look of shame on his face at being thought incapable. He obviously had doubts about his own ability.
"I'm sorry," she said again.
"I can manage my condition Professor. You've heard of the phrase "You've got to cruel to be kind" well the harder the work is the harder I'll try." He put down one lot of parchment onto another pile. McGonagall saw his eyes welling up with tears.
"What's the matter?" she asked distressed.
"That phrase has a lot of meaning for me. Once someone saved my life through their cruelty. My brother Romulus was four years older than me. He was eight and I was four when we were attacked by the werewolf." Remus sniffed, but it turned into a hacking cough.
"We both survived, but were both... infected. It was almost more than a month before we were let out of St. Mungo's. In that time, our parents had built a shed for our transformations. It was checked by the werewolf capture bureau and everything. We were taken home and on that night we were locked in. I was too little to really understand. I'd only been through it once before, but that was under supervision at St. Mungo's.
"The worst part is that I can remember everything that happened. We both transformed and one thing the werewolf capture bureau had forgotten to mention to our parents was that werewolves should not be put in together. They blamed it on a mix up in paper work, that they thought there was only me.
"Anyway Romulus broke my legs in the fight. Being considerably older than I was he was also much stronger. Too strong in fact to be held by the shed. He broke out and I saw him run out across the fields in to the wood behind our house. But they were waiting for him. There was one crack of red light and I saw him fall. He was silhouetted against the light of the moon and seemed to collapse so slowly. It might be odd to someone else but I was terribly sad. Or at least I felt what a wolf would feel if a pack mate was killed. He'd broken my legs and so there was nothing I could do but lie on the floor and howl. Did you know that they don't give you a funeral if you die as a werewolf? He hadn't meant to save my life, but he had. The same night he lost his own."
The Professor looked at Remus struggling not to cry. She got up and hugged him. She wasn't exactly the maternal type, but she couldn't just sit there.
"Shhhh. Don't worry." She crooned. "You're safe."
"I... I've never told any one that story before." Remus sobbed.
McGonagall conjured a handkerchief and gave it to him. She sat down on the end of the bed and said, "I'm sorry about your brother."
"Thank you," Remus said wiping his eyes. "I'm fine now." the handkerchief vanished in a puff of green smoke.
McGonagall picked up one of the sheets of paper. "This is from the lesson you missed yesterday."
"One of my dorm mates, James, leant it to me. But his handwriting's awful."
"Yes I can see. You don't think it would be too unfair if I were to fill you in on what we did, considering you weren't there." she said hoping she wouldn't offend him.
"If you have the time that would be very... helpful." Remus smiled.
"Well I did some fancy magic at the beginning. Then we got on with turning thimbles into cups. You have to factor in the size. Otherwise, you end up with a cup the size of... well a thimble. But first I'll show you the transfiguration I did at the start. A private performance."
Then she turned herself into a cat.
This did not elicit the response from Remus she expected. Instead, he nodded sagely.
"Ah. I can do that too. Just wait till the next full moon."
McGonagall turned herself back. She laughed and Remus joined in. Then he said, "What's it like being a cat?"
"One of your students has just woken up in the hospital wing."
She put down the transfiguration homework she'd been marking and sailed down the corridors. The new deputy head had only arrived at Hogwarts this year. She had been educated here but now she was back as a Professor. She wondered whether any of her teachers had had to deal with problems like this. She paused outside the door. She was almost afraid to go in because there, lying in one of the beds would be a monster. Professor McGonagall was not an evil woman, but she still suffered prejudices. She had pleaded with the headmaster to reconsider about letting the boy in. "What good would it do?" she had asked. But the Head had overruled her. Then when the boy was sorted into her own house she had panicked. She'd tried everything to avoid him, but now she had to go in and see 'it'.
"I want you to go and see him when he gets back. He'll be very shaken up and in need of a friendly face." Though the face had smiled those bright blue eyes had looked at her and known she feared the boy. Known, but still forced her to go.
How could he have taken it so easily? Calmly allowed a werewolf to walk among the children? But then she was not Dumbledor. She had had to fill his shoes in so many ways. Transfigurations teacher, head of Gryffindor house, deputy head of the school. She still felt that she could never outshine his shadow.
And now it was time to go in. A rap on the door. An answering call. The door swinging open to reveal rows of perfect white beds. The smell of a hospital.
"He's through here. I set up a curtain so no one would see him."
The worried expression on the matron's face. The sound of shoes on linoleum. The light streaming through the high windows.
"He's in quite a state, but I've patched him up as best I can."
The jangle and swish of the green curtain being drawn back.
"I'll leave you with him then."
The receding tap of the matron's shoes. The bed covered in books. The pale figure in it. The taste of fear.
"Hello."
"Hello Professor."
"How are you feeling Remus?"
"Not very well Professor. But I'm sure I'll be better soon."
Fear.
"Good."
The rustle of papers. The creak as she sits on the chair. Fear.
"What are you doing?"
Fear.
"My homework. I've got a lot to catch up on."
Surprise.
"But you're ill."
"Yes, the matron says I've caught bronchitis and I broke a few bones. It... it was worse than usual. But if I want to come to school" breaking off into coughs, "I've got to do the work."
Then her perception changed. The light seemed all the brighter. And in this new light, she saw not a monster, but a sad, frightened boy. A boy who wants an education and a chance. He'd been through more than she had in his eleven years.
"I'm sorry Remus" McGonagall said quietly.
"Why?" Remus asked.
"Because I've been afraid. I've avoided you for weeks when you needed my help."
"Professor," he paused, "Thank you. Not many would admit that. I understand."
McGonagall could almost have cried seeing him sit there saying "I understand." It made it so much worse.
"I could give you extra time on your homework. Maybe talk to the other teachers?"
"No thank you. I don't want that kind of help. I want to earn my place at this school just the same as everybody else."
She saw the look of shame on his face at being thought incapable. He obviously had doubts about his own ability.
"I'm sorry," she said again.
"I can manage my condition Professor. You've heard of the phrase "You've got to cruel to be kind" well the harder the work is the harder I'll try." He put down one lot of parchment onto another pile. McGonagall saw his eyes welling up with tears.
"What's the matter?" she asked distressed.
"That phrase has a lot of meaning for me. Once someone saved my life through their cruelty. My brother Romulus was four years older than me. He was eight and I was four when we were attacked by the werewolf." Remus sniffed, but it turned into a hacking cough.
"We both survived, but were both... infected. It was almost more than a month before we were let out of St. Mungo's. In that time, our parents had built a shed for our transformations. It was checked by the werewolf capture bureau and everything. We were taken home and on that night we were locked in. I was too little to really understand. I'd only been through it once before, but that was under supervision at St. Mungo's.
"The worst part is that I can remember everything that happened. We both transformed and one thing the werewolf capture bureau had forgotten to mention to our parents was that werewolves should not be put in together. They blamed it on a mix up in paper work, that they thought there was only me.
"Anyway Romulus broke my legs in the fight. Being considerably older than I was he was also much stronger. Too strong in fact to be held by the shed. He broke out and I saw him run out across the fields in to the wood behind our house. But they were waiting for him. There was one crack of red light and I saw him fall. He was silhouetted against the light of the moon and seemed to collapse so slowly. It might be odd to someone else but I was terribly sad. Or at least I felt what a wolf would feel if a pack mate was killed. He'd broken my legs and so there was nothing I could do but lie on the floor and howl. Did you know that they don't give you a funeral if you die as a werewolf? He hadn't meant to save my life, but he had. The same night he lost his own."
The Professor looked at Remus struggling not to cry. She got up and hugged him. She wasn't exactly the maternal type, but she couldn't just sit there.
"Shhhh. Don't worry." She crooned. "You're safe."
"I... I've never told any one that story before." Remus sobbed.
McGonagall conjured a handkerchief and gave it to him. She sat down on the end of the bed and said, "I'm sorry about your brother."
"Thank you," Remus said wiping his eyes. "I'm fine now." the handkerchief vanished in a puff of green smoke.
McGonagall picked up one of the sheets of paper. "This is from the lesson you missed yesterday."
"One of my dorm mates, James, leant it to me. But his handwriting's awful."
"Yes I can see. You don't think it would be too unfair if I were to fill you in on what we did, considering you weren't there." she said hoping she wouldn't offend him.
"If you have the time that would be very... helpful." Remus smiled.
"Well I did some fancy magic at the beginning. Then we got on with turning thimbles into cups. You have to factor in the size. Otherwise, you end up with a cup the size of... well a thimble. But first I'll show you the transfiguration I did at the start. A private performance."
Then she turned herself into a cat.
This did not elicit the response from Remus she expected. Instead, he nodded sagely.
"Ah. I can do that too. Just wait till the next full moon."
McGonagall turned herself back. She laughed and Remus joined in. Then he said, "What's it like being a cat?"