Title: The Scent of Magic
Characters: Just Remus…()
Rating: G or PG I suppose because it's just a little angst-y.
Summary: Remus tells how he got the job for DADA professor and exactly why he was on the Hogwarts Express in Harry's third year
With my meager funds I lack a broom or any other way to get to the Hogwarts grounds for that matter. So I settle for the Hogwarts Express. But I suppose that it's true, the saying that says beggars can't be choosers. And as of recently my financial status has lowered me to that of a beggar. And of course Albus Dumbledore knows everything. He knows how badly I need to get away. How badly I need to go home.
"Oh Remus. It's beautiful. You did absolutely amazing work". The brown haired muggle woman below me crooned at the sign that I had just finished painting above our shop that was due to open the next day. The weather was hot and the summer was slipping away into fall even as I climbed down the ladder to join her on the ground. "Well of course it's beautiful" I grinned at her, "I'm a world famous artist. Didn't you know?" She laughed outright at my jest and replied "You keep telling yourself that Remus…maybe it will come true". She turned and wiped my face clean of the bit of sweat and paint there with her work towel with a half grin half smirk on her face. She has one of those expressive faces that can tell you exactly what she's thinking if you look hard enough. Although it seemed that as of late I'd had to look less and less. I just had to peer into her hazel eyes to know that she loved me. Loved me for all of me.
We were perfect together. Almost made for each other. For lack of a better term soul mates. We worked well together and could talk about anything. We just fit.
Maybe it was the fact that we both shared a secret that was made us so right. A secret that is hated by both our kinds. Both bitten by the same creature, both werewolves.
The unbelievable nature of the werewolves encouraged her belief in the Wizarding World and she accompanied me many times to visit the many scattered wizarding establishments. That's when we decided that we would open up a shop together in some obscure place where we would have peace. So together we bought a shop and set it up as a book store that catered to both the needs of local muggles and witches and wizards. So that's how the book store "Once Upon A Time" came into existence.
Neither of us knew that our dream in this place would lead to her death.
"Remus! REMUS! Help!" Her cries reverberated off the walls of the burning bookstore. The walls were collapsing and she was trapped. My heart pounding, I made my way to her voice as quickly as possible. Smoke from the burning pages of books and burning walls stung my eyes, preventing me from finding her quicker. I could hear shouts of people outside calling to us but I needed to find her first before I had anything to do with them. Her screams still called to me and were the last thing I heard before a structural support beam fell from the ceiling and came crashing down onto me, rendering me unconscious and unable to save her.
I was pulled from the burning building by the muggle firemen and immediately taken to the local muggle hospital. There I was treated of a collapsed lung, a few broken bones, a set of bruised ribs, and some severe burns all down my back.
I spent about two weeks in the hospital being treated of my various wounds and burns. And I spent that time half dreaming and reliving that night and half awake drowning in the thought that I could have saved her. I could have done something more. I was informed grudgingly by my nurse that there was no possible way I could have saved her but that didn't take my guilt away.
So it was on the last day of my stay at the muggle hospital that I received an owl from Dumbledore, inviting me to return to Hogwarts.
Remus LupinI'm writing to extend my condolences for your loss and I know that it doesn't mean much because no words anyone can say can make the loss go away. It is only the strength of heart and memory that allows us to endure. It is that endurance that allows us to live on and make the most of our lives. And what better way to do this than to help our young ones endure in their own lives? So I incite you to bring yourself to Hogwarts and take up the empty post of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. If you do choose to come back to Hogwarts all you need do is send word and everything including transportation if need be will be taken care of. I hope to hear from you soon.
Albus Dumbledore
I re-read the letter many times before replying. So that's how it came to be that I boarded the Hogwarts Express and sat in the compartment that had been bi-annually occupied by my friends and me until our graduation. And that is how I came to meet Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. And how I became re-introduced to Harry Potter.
The train took us back to the castle that for so long I called home. It was after the ordeal with the Dementors boarding the train that I began to detect the subtle differences between the scent of the muggle world and the scent of magic that exudes from the famed establishment of Hogwarts. The muggle world full of cities and towns in the country lets out either a heady woody smell of the country or a sweet rancid smell of decamping fruit that comes from the cities. But it is the scent of magic that imprints itself on you never letting you forget. From Hogwarts it's a scent of cinnamon and musk mixed with sweet citrus that wafts to you from miles away. It's a scent that's almost overpowering but not quite. It's a scent that clings to every witch and wizard marking him or her for what they are. It's that specific scent of magic that takes me back to where I belong.
Author's Note: This was just a random topic that popped into my head and I wrote it out really quick and uploaded it so if there are any mistakes that's why. Drop a note if you think so. Thanks to anyone who reviews!
Disclaimer: This story contains characters, locations, and other random things created and/or owned by J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, Inc., etc. Since no money is being made, no infringement is intended. Section 102(b) of the U.S. Copyright Act states that copyright protection does not extend to ideas, procedures, concepts, principles or discoveries, but the actual words used to express those things