"It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me."--PoA

Groggily, I opened my eyes a tiny crack, but quickly snapped them shut with a soft groan. Morning sunlight seeped through the chinks in the small, but magically reinforced, shed in the backyard.

The shed? Oh no--what happened last night? I didn't hurt anyone did I? I felt the familiar tang of blood in my mouth, but quickly realized that it was my own and spat it out in disgust. I opened my eyes again, satisfied that I had been safely locked up all night.

Now that I was sure that everyone else was safe, I could worry about myself. I moved to get more comfortable on the not particularly soft floor, but stopped as I felt horrible searing pain shooting up every nerve ending I had.

I kept still and assessed the damage. My leg felt broken, and my ankle was hanging at an odd angle. I had the usual deep rips and scratches, and probably two or three broken ribs. I stayed on the ground, waiting quietly and patiently until I heard my father's voice removing charms he had placed around the shed to make sure it was impenetrable. He finally got the door open and knelt down beside me as my mother hurried in.

"Hey mate," he said with a tired smile as he began mending bones. My mother sank down beside me too. She looked sad, and there were dark shadows under her eyes. I felt guilty; they had been up all night, probably worried that I would finally end up killing myself.

"Poor darling," my mother murmured, daubing my deeper cuts with an essence of murtlap tentacles, "I suppose the experimental Wolfsbane potion didn't help at all?"

I shook my head. It had seemed so sure to work. My parents believed, after much research, that the only potion that might help me was Wolfsbane, and they had me test it through all of its experimental stages.

"Oh well," she said with the same sad smile, "One of these days we'll find something for you."

"Some of these are look pretty nasty," said my father as they finished cleaning me up, "Sure you don't need to go to the hospital?"

I nodded quickly, while I had been taught not to take their intolerance to heart, I didn't like the way the doctors and nursed glowered at me as I had my injuries treated.

"Pity it had to happen today, too," my father said, shaking his head. My mother nodded in agreement. When they both saw my confused look at once, they burst out laughing.

My mother's expression became softer, as she reached out to push the hair out of my eyes. "Happy birthday, Remus. You know, it's not every day that a little boy turns eleven."

I smiled, it was true, I had been eleven for several hours and had just been feeling too under the weather to realize it. My parents completed the monthly ritual of rehabilitating me in silence. I thought of how good it was of them to keep me when they could have turned me over to the hospital.

We were a tight-knit little family. My parents were lovely people, although their co-workers would probably only be able to describe them as intensely private. The three of us had long since grown used to shutting other people out of our lives, after realizing that every time my secret came out, they wanted nothing more to do with us.

When we returned to the house, I sat at the kitchen table while my mother made chocolate chip pancakes and my father fetched a small pile of gifts from the broom closet. All of the experimental cures had not left us wealthy, but we appreciated what we had, which included a small but cozy house in Kent, my mother's excellent cooking, and each other.

I smiled contentedly. I was exhausted, but this was my favorite time, right after a full moon. My father set my presents down in front of me.

"Well, go on then," he said, rubbing his hands together with anticipation. I smiled at him, and reached for the first present. It was heavy and enormous. When I opened it, I saw that there were seven whole books inside. My mouth fell open in awe. Carefully, I pulled the first one to me. "A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration" by Miranda Gawshawk. I gave an excited grin.

"Brilliant! These should keep me occupied for months."

Both my parents were laughing, I didn't understand why, but they gestured for me to continue, so I reached for the next present and then the next one. With each one, I became more confused. They were certainly all very interesting, brass scales, a pewter cauldron, new robes, a collapsible telescope, and a box of assorted potions ingredients, but I couldn't imagine what they were for. I reached for the last one, and opened it to find a sweet little tawny owl sitting in a cage. This present was by far the most bewildering. I liked the little owl very much, but what on earth was it for? I stayed home with Mum during the day, and Dad sent a ministry owl at his lunch hour. I didn't have any friends to send a letter to. So what was the purpose of this owl? I looked at my parents, who were both grinning madly at me.

"And now," said my mother grandly, "for the best gift of all."

She handed me a birthday card. I took it curiously, and opened it to reveal a message written in emerald green ink.

Dear Mr. Lupin,
I am pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Special arrangements have been made concerning your condition, and if you are interested in attending Hogwarts, we can set up a meeting to discuss them. Have a very merry birthday!

-Albus Dumbledore

I stared at the letter for several seconds in complete disbelief before letting out a whoop of glee and running to hug my parents. We had been sure that it would be too dangerous for me to be allowed. We wrote back straight away, and requested an audience with Dumbledore the following week.

The night before my big interview, I couldn't sleep a wink. I was up late, wondering whether Dumbledore was meeting me the next day just to tell me that sending an acceptance letter had been a horrible mistake, or worse, some sort of joke. I had so convinced myself that something catastrophic would happen, that when I found myself in Dumbledore's office, brushing the floo powder off my robes, I was prepared for the worst.

That is probably why, when I saw Dumbledore smiling benignly at me, his piercing blue eyes twinkling over half moon spectacles, I was shocked. I had expected him to look much more menacing, and possibly sport an "I hate werewolves" badge of some sort.

Instead, he stood and extended his hand to me. "Hello Remus. It's lovely to meet you at last." I shook his outstretched hand. He turned to greet my parents, and then gestured for all of us to sit.
"Now, I have told you about making special arrangements for your stay at Hogwarts, Remus," he said seriously, reaching into his desk. He pulled out a small folder and passed it to my parents. "Our herbology teacher has kindly ordered one of these for us to plant at the entrance to a house I have purchased in Hogsmeade for Remus to transform in." He went on to explain the Shrieking Shack and the way the Whomping Willow operated. I had never felt happier, it hadn't been a cruel joke; he had really made arrangements for me! There wasn't anything that could prevent me from going to school now, except for my parents who were looking more worried by the second as Dumbledore continued his speech. When he finally asked, "Do you have any questions?" they exchanged furtive looks and paused as if unsure how to continue.

"Well Headmaster," my mother began, smoothing my hair absently, "Mr. Lupin and I would do anything so that Remus could come to school, but I'm afraid that we can't afford all these arrangements. Of course, we could pay you over time if you wouldn't mind."

She bit her lip nervously, Dumbledore frowned. I felt so stupid, of course it would be very expensive to buy a rare tree and a house in Hogsmeade, I should have thought of that.

"There is no reason for you to pay for anything. I have merely done my duty as Headmaster by expanding the Hogwarts facilities, they should have been made werewolf accessible years ago," he said sternly.

Now it was my father's turn to frown. "We can't ask you to do that, Sir," he said softly, eyes downcast.

"Well," said Dumbledore with a heavy sigh, "I'm afraid that I already have, and it really would be a shame to waste all of these new facilities." He looked up at the ceiling, twiddling his thumbs while my parents argued with themselves.

Finally, Mum and Dad beamed at him, and Dumbledore smiled back.

"And you, Remus, do you have a question?"

I jumped in my seat, how had he known that all this time I had been arguing with myself about a question I wasn't sure that I should ask. However, now that everyone was looking at me with an expectant grin, I couldn't just keep silent.

"Well Professor," I said, choosing my words carefully so that he wouldn't see how much this question meant to me, "I'm sure it's important for the students to know what a threat I am so that they can avoid me, but I wondered if you had to tell them. I swear that I won't ever get too close to anybody, you don't have to worry about people finding out. But I would really rather they didn't know. You see, the people back at home knew, and they didn't really like me..." I let the sentence trail off at the memory of angry villagers throwing rocks through our windows, and cruel older boys who would pummel me into unconsciousness every time I went to the store. I crossed my fingers in the pocket of my robes while Professor Dumbledore surveyed me in silence.

When he spoke, he sounded very grave. "You have had a difficult life Remus. It is nobody's fault, but it is unfair that one so young should have to endure so much. I will not tell the students about your condition, but there are people in this world that you can trust, and I hope you can learn that here. You do not have to be afraid Remus. I assure you that you will be very safe at Hogwarts while I am Headmaster."

I nodded. Dumbledore was a very nice man, but if he thought I would be able to trust anybody, he obviously didn't know how much hatred the entire wizarding world had for people like me. We said a polite goodbye and left Dumbledore's office.

I was, of course, thrilled at being allowed to attend Hogwarts, but every time I marked another day off my calendar, I thought of Dumbledore's parting words. Could I learn to trust people? Could I maybe even make a friend? At the same time, I felt guilty for these thoughts. I was a danger to myself and others. I didn't deserve friends.

"You're not a monster," I told myself, as I often did, only half believing it. "And even if you are one, you still get to go to Hogwarts."