Chapter 1 The Minister of Magic The owl hooted cheerfully, dropping the soggy envelope into the boy's hands. He ducked as drops of water sprayed from the owl's wet feathers as it dove onto its perch, shaking water off its wings. Wiping runny green ink from the thick parchment, he carefully tore the envelope open; was it addressed to him? Yes, there it was- Mr. R. Lupin, written in the same even scribble that was always sending letters to his uncle. Carefully, he pulled out the damp letters, wiping away excess water and ink, praying that the letters would still be legible enough to understand. He was about to sit and read it, when the doorbell rang.
Trotting to the door, he stood on his tiptoes to look out the peephole, to see a tall, slim man with messy black hair and cheerful green eyes, looking at a piece of paper as if to be sure he had the right address. For a moment or two, he pondered whether to open the door- the man had the looks of an official, with a neat cap and a brilliant emerald green cloak that twisted in the wind. Well, he supposed, no one would come here during a storm unless they really needed something- and so he opened the door.
"Can I help you with something?" He asked, eyeing the fellow carefully before he would allow him to come in. Things were dangerous enough, with the hate mail sent after his uncle, without strange men trying to break in.
"Is Professor Lupin here?" The man asked, adjusting his cap to block as much water as could be possible.
"No, he's out." The boy supplied as the only logical reason, as he stared nervously up at the full moon. Thankfully, he muttered, it wasn't night time yet- though this uncle had better get home soon....He realized the man had said something. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I was thinking," Smiling broadly, the man nodded.
"Don't worry about it. Can I wait here until he arrives?" The boy frowned, brushing a lock of browny-gold hair from his face, thinking.
"No. Not tonight, he's ill." Nodding seriously, the man nodded, but did not leave.
"I understand- the moon is full tonight, isn't it?" Relaxing visibly, the boy nodded, and let him in. "I take it you're his, ah...son?" The man asked.
Laughing, the boy shook his head. "No, his nephew. My uncle isn't married, he lives with me and my mum. By the way, may I ask who you are? Not that many people know of my uncle's, ?" He finished, puzzled as he tried to figure out what word he was looking for.
"I'm Harry Potter, I was a student of his while he taught at Hogwarts." With expert timing, the man brushed aside his bangs to reveal a scar every child had grown up hearing tales about. The boy gaped in amazement, then tried unsuccessfully to regain his dignity, stumbling as he took Harry's jacket and hung it over the fireplace to dry. Blushing furiously, he tried to laugh weakly- this was just not his day, his knee still hurt from where he had skinned it that morning. But to his relief, Harry ruffled his hair cheerfully, and he himself stumbled as he untied his boots. That made him feel a bit better- at least wizarding legends could be fools, but to have left him standing out in the rain.
"Listen, I'm awfully sorry about leaving you out in the rain, sir, its just that not many people who still call my Uncle Remus professor are particularly friendly- except for that one old man who came to visit us last summer, friendly old fellow." The boy apologized, his words tripping clumsily out of his mouth, until Harry held up a calm hand, grinning, motioning for him to be silent.
"Don't worry about it, it's perfectly all right. What is your name, anyway?" Harry asked conversationally, sitting down on a chair that the boy had pulled out for him.
"Romulus Lupin, but don't call me that. Hate it- everyone calls me Fizz." He responded cheerfully, plopping down on the couch where he could watch for his uncle to get home.
"Er, Fizz? That's an unusual name...." Harry commented, trying to decide what one says to the small nephew of a werewolf.
"All the potions I used to attempt to make when I was younger. ThatÔs really all you need to know, weÔll just say that I'm no Snape." Fizz explained.
"Well, thank goodness for that! That would be...dangerous, to be living with your uncle if you were Snape." Fizz nodded, and followed Harry's gaze as it fell upon the letter he had yet to open. "Acceptance letter, I take it?"
"Er, I suppose. They already sent the letter asking Uncle to come back and teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, so it must be."
"Well, is he?" Harry asked, snapping to attention immediately. Fizz raised an eyebrow and laughed, nodding.
"As long as he doesn't start calling me Romulus," He said, looking at the driveway casually, having given up on the hope that his uncle would be on time. To his surprise, however, he could hear a familiar voice singing loudly and the same clunking of boots on the rug as his uncle entered the house. For a moment, Fizz fought back a hateful memory- and forced a smile onto his face, waiting for the feeling to pass. This was his uncle. It had not been his fault. Suddenly, he was aware his uncle had asked him something, and he foolishly asked him to repeat his question.
"I asked if your mother was home yet." Remus Lupin, Fizz's uncle, asked, ruffling his nephew's hair merrily while Fizz tried to shake his head, no. He seemed more cheerful than he had been in awhile, and when he saw the heavy books under his arms, he understood why. Lupin had been getting his books for the term he was teaching. But Fizz's sharp eyes did not miss the faint air of nervousness that his uncle had, and he wondered whether it was due to the full moon or due to the fact he was going to be teaching again. Looking relieved, Lupin checked the clock and saw it was only about five in the evening.
"No, as far as I know she's still at work. She's been getting home later and later...." His voice drifted off, and he walked back to his room as Lupin and Harry began to talk in earnest. Fizz still clutched the soggy envelope in his hands and sat down on the creaky bed, moving aside his raggedy blanket so it wouldn't get wet. His walls were plastered with waving photos of his mother, and his uncle, and the occasional stray relative, and hundreds of old newspaper clippings featuring random famous wizards, and some with just amazing photographs.
The envelope opened easily under his fingertips, and a number of thick pieces of parchment tumbled out. He read them over carefully, growing more and more excited, until he ran down the stairs whooping, accidentally knocking into his mother who was shaking hands with Harry. Apologizing, he shoved the dripping letter into his mother's hands, who hugged him furiously after she had read them.
"I'm sorry, Minister, its just that my son's been accepted into Hogwarts, I was worried I would have to teach him at home!" Fizz's mother explained, laughing at Harry's embarrassed face.
"Minister? I had forgotten." Lupin declared, smiling and congratulating Harry. The new Minister of Magic blushed furiously, and Fizz couldn't help but do the same when Harry shook his hand, congratulating him on being accepted. Harry left within a few minutes, and Lupin proudly declared, "We'll head to Diagon Alley tomorrow, the train leaves in a month! Now sleep, Romulus, and don't read for one night!" Reluctantly, Fizz nodded and headed back up the stairs to his room, letting himself fall on the old bed heavily. Hogwarts. He was really going. The excitement he had felt flew from him as his thoughts jumped immediately to his father, and a weight fell heavily on his chest. But he took a deep breath and steadied himself- he couldn't let himself cry. His father would be happy. For a moment, the familiar wave of anger swept over him towards his uncle, and he had to remind himself hotly that it was not his uncle's fault. It was no one's fault, no one's but the MinistryÔs.
But he still could not believe that it was true.