Disclaimer: Still not mine. sigh

Chapter Two: You What?

Again, not what he had been expecting. Remus took a deep breath and peered at the blushing, flustered former student. "Bitten by what, precisely?" he asked calmly, though a deep, sinking feeling in his gut told him that he already knew the answer.

"A werewolf, sir," the girl answered, tactfully refraining from any number of epithets on the tip of her tongue.

"When?"

"Five days ago."

Counting back in his head to his last transformation, Remus decided the boy must have been bitten on the last night of the full moon. He sighed deeply. Eight years old, and already damned. His heart had already gone out to the boy, with just her three words, but he knew that he shouldn't do anything rash. That had always been his place within the Marauders, the voice of reason and caution; it wouldn't do to forget those qualities now. "Where is he now?"

"I hid him in the fringes of the forest," she told him, voice barely audible.

"The Forbidden Forest!" he yelped.

"I didn't know where else to hide him!" she shot back. "He's just in the fringes, and I showed him where Hagrid's hut is, so he can run there if he gets into any trouble, but I couldn't very well hide him in the dormitory." Her anger faded as suddenly as it had come, and she fixed him with desperate eyes. "Professor, please. I don't know why I didn't think about it before, but you're the perfect choice. Who else can teach him how to live with it? Because you do. Live with it, I mean. You've got a steady job, you've got friends, you've got respect…who else would be able to teach him that this isn't the end of his life? He's got too much potential to be kept from everyone for the rest of his days, and-" Suddenly aware of the fact that she was babbling like a Hufflepuff, she cut herself off abruptly, but that didn't keep her from giving him a pleading gaze.

"Take me to him," he sighed.

"Does that mean you'll-"

He held up a hand before she could finish her question. "I don't know. I do know, however, that that is not the safest place for a child, and he will be far better off here in the castle, preferably in the infirmary so we can make sure the bite isn't infected. I promise you that I will speak with the Headmaster; it may be that he'll have a solution that neither of us would have thought of. You should know, however, that, as a werewolf, I cannot adopt. We will have to go about it in some other fashion."

Her face fell, but there was still hope there, and he once again found himself reassessing Slytherin House. "Can we go soon?" she asked quietly. "So that he doesn't have to spend another night out there?"

"We'll go now." He set his quill on top of the unfinished grading and stood up, automatically sliding his wand into the hidden pocket of his sleeve. "Will he be scared if you have someone else with you?"

"Possibly," she allowed. "I obviously haven't taken anyone else to see him."

"When was the last time he ate?"

"I snuck him some food after breakfast this morning, but then with the Leaving Ceremony…" she shrugged helplessly. "I know he'll be hungry, but dinner's not for another four hours."

Remus smiled slightly; he thought the secret of the kitchens was the most well known secret in the school. "We'll take care of him. Follow me."

Twenty minutes later, armed with a large bag of sandwiches and flasks of pumpkin juice, the unlikely pair walked out of the main doors and headed straight towards the Forbidden Forest, Heidi leading the way. There were still a lot of students about; parents had been given the option of taking their children with them after the Leaving Ceremony, but most would go home as usual on the Hogwarts Express in a few days' time.

A few hundred yards into the fringe of trees, the gamekeeper's hut visible in the near distance, Heidi stopped. "Callum," she called lowly. "Callum, it's just Heidi, come on out."

A slight rustle of leaves caught Remus' attention and he turned, his sharp eyes catching the small boy standing in the shadows. "It's all right, Callum," he said quietly. "I'm here to help. Will you come out, please?"

The boy made no move to come closer, and Heidi bit her lip anxiously. "Callum, please, he can help you."

"You said you'd help me," the boy replied bitterly.

"He can help you more than I can," she explained. "Callum, please trust me. When have I ever done wrong by you?"

Brother and sister stared at each other across the tiny clearing, and he nodded reluctantly, stepping out into the dappled light.

Remus caught his breath at the blood-soaked bandage around the boy's right forearm, but even more so at the expression in his eyes, the overwhelming sense of being lost. Being careful not to move too quickly, Remus sat down on the soft loam and opened the bag. "Your name is Callum, then?" he asked.

"Obviously."

"Callum."

He smiled and shook his head at Heidi; he could understand the boy being rude. His parents had told him often enough that he'd been unbearable when he'd first been bitten. He laid out the thin blanket the house-elves had added into the sack and set out sandwiches on top of it. The golden flasks were still cold to the touch, condensation forming as they met the June heat. "Are you hungry, Callum?"

"Yes," the boy answered, staring longingly at the food.

"Then come and eat."

Startled, the boy moved slowly forward, seating himself at the very edge of the blanket before grabbing at a sandwich. While he ate, Remus sipped at some pumpkin juice and took the opportunity to observe the boy in more detail.

He was a little small for his age, but it was a leanness that held true in his sister, as well, so he didn't assume any kind of ill treatment. His skin held a tan that many children had in summer, from long hours spent playing outdoors, but there was a pallor beneath it, one that he recognized from the mirror. The body had a way of protesting its possesion and destruction, and the boy hadn't even undergone his first transformation yet. He wasn't entirely surprised to find himself the subject of equal scrutiny, and his good nature allowed the boy to look his fill without remarking upon it. Part of him wondered what the boy saw, what anyone ever saw; he was all to aware of what he saw in himself, yet the fact that he did have friends told him there was more than what he could see.

"How are you going to help me?" Callum demanded when the worst of his hunger had been satisfied.

"I don't know yet," he answered honestly. "That will be up to the Headmaster."

"So I'm doomed," he predicted glumly, and his sister pulled him into a tight hug, mindful of his arm.

"Don't say that, Callum," she whispered. "Dumbledore's a good man, if a bit of a fool. He lets Professor Lupin here teach."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"The Professor's a werewolf, Callum," she told him gently. "He knows what you're going through. That's why he can help."

The light in the child's eyes changed instantly with her statement, and he now looked upon Remus with a mixture of horror and hope. "Really?"

Remus nodded. "I was bitten when I was six."

"And you teach here?"

"Yes, I do."

"But that's illegal," he protested, starting to become suspicious again. "The Ministry won't allow-"

"Headmaster Dumbledore is a good man, Callum," he interrupted. "He gives chances to those he feels needs them, whether the Ministry wishes him to or not."

Odd colored eyes stared at him, one blue, one grey, both perplexed. "But isn't it dangerous?"

Remus merely smiled and drank some more pumpkin juice. "Every moon, Professor Snape creates something called the Wolfsbane Potion, a very complex and complicated potion. Not many people are up to making it. When I drink it, it allows me to keep my mind during the transformation, so that I can recognize people, and know not to harm them. We'll give you that potion, as well. It tastes foul," he confided with a glint in his eye, "but it's much better than the alternative."

"There isn't a cure, is there, sir?" Callum whispered, his entire body slumped in defeat.

"Not yet, no," he admitted. "But no one's given up yet, and more advances are being made all the time."

The three sat in silence for a time, Heidi almost too afraid to move, lest she disturb the fragile rapport building between the two males. Remus brushed a lock of hair, almost entirely grey now, back behind his ear. "Callum, will you let us take you up to the castle? Madam Pomfrey will need to take a look at the bite, clean it out and whatnot."

"Yes, sir," the boy answered without much spirit. They packed the remaining sandwiches and the blankets back into the sack and stood, and Heidi immediately took her brother's hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "Who's Madam Pomfrey?"

"She's our Healer," Heidi answered before Remus could open his mouth. "She's the one I volunteered with this year, remember? And when I got hexed by those Ravenclaws last year? She's the one that took care of me."

He seemed to perk up at that. "Do you suppose she might be willing to teach me things?" he asked excitedly.

"She may."

Remus took that thought and filed it away in the part of his mind that kept questions to be asked later. As they entered the main hall, he turned to Heidi. "Miss Sleipak, will you please go the Headmaster and ask him to come to the infirmary? His password at the moment is 'Sugar Quills'."

"But, Heidi-" the boy whimpered.

She knelt down in front of her brother and hugged him tightly. "It's all right, Callum. The Professor isn't going to let anything happen to you. You're safe now."

Remus watched her race off through the halls. He didn't have the heart to correct her. A small hand slipping into his caused him to look down, and he found himself meeting the gaze of a blushing Callum. He smiled gently. "The hospital wing is this way."

When Heidi found the Headmaster, she didn't give him any details, simply the message that she'd been told to give. She was a Slytherin, after all, and information was not something to be given out lightly. So it was that a slightly perplexed headmaster made his way to the infirmary, uncertain of what exactly to suspect. He entered the room discretely, his embroidered and spangled purple robes sweeping around him, his twinkling blue eyes casting about for anything out of the ordinary, which was saying something for Hogwarts.

His slender fingers tugged thoughtfully on his long nose, his gaze falling upon Remus Lupin sitting on a bed. "Remus, my boy, are you hurt?"

The thin man turned around and smiled at the headmaster, still standing in the doorway. "No, Albus, I'm here with a new friend."

"A new friend?" Dumbledore glided all the way into the room, and finally saw a young boy sitting next to his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. "Well, hello there, new friend."

His eyebrows raised, the boy glanced at Remus, who shrugged lightly. "Hello," he replied flatly.

"Remus?"

"Sorry about that, Remus." Madam Pomfrey bustled up before the man could answer. "My niece doesn't often get a chance to firecall me, and you said it wasn't urgent."

"Poppy, this is Callum, and he has a bite that needs some tending."

The sweet-faced woman fixed the boy with the stern look she gave every student to pass through her doors. She had learned many years before that many didn't want to admit how they'd gotten hurt, usually because whatever it was they were doing was against the rules. "What kind of bite?" she asked, her mind already running through a list of possibilities.

Callum glanced again at Remus, who nodded encouragingly. He looked back at the mediwitch and swallowed hard. "A werewolf," he whispered.

Paling, Poppy stared at the eight year old. "Oh, you poor thing," she murmured, her face softening instantly. "Well, at least you're here with Remus. I'll just go get some potions, and I'll be right back, and then we'll have you bandaged up in no time."

She hurried off, and Callum leaned his head wearily against Remus' shoulder. "People seem to think awfully highly of you," he noted, and the man laughed.

"Madam Pomfrey has been here since I was a student," he told him. "She helped me more than I can possibly say."

"So is she a werewolf, too?" Callum asked incredulously.

"No, Callum, just a very kind, caring, and compassionate woman." He put his arm around the child and gave him a slight hug. "It may take a while, but everything will work out; you'll see."

"How very optimistic," the boy muttered. After a moment, he spoke again, his eyes following the mediwitch as she rummaged through her stock of potions. "I wanted to be a Healer," he confessed.

"Wanted?" Remus echoed with a slight frown.

"How many people do you think want a werewolf for a Healer?"

"Probably about as many as want a werewolf for a teacher," Dumbledore answered cheerfully. Both wolves turned and looked at him, blinking stupidly. "Besides, my boy," he continued, laying a gentle hand on Callum's shoulder. "You have many years yet before it becomes an issue, and a lot can change in that much time. Now, if you'll both excuse me, I have some arrangements to go make. I'll see you both in the Great Hall for dinner."

Their eyes followed him out, and silence reigned in the hospital wing but for the muted clink of vials as Madam Pomfrey mixed her salves. "That's a weird old man," Callum stated finally, and it was all Remus could do not to howl with laughter.

"Yes, yes he is," he couldn't help agreeing. "Brilliant, of course, but more than a little mad, I think."

The mediwitch came back over to them, carrying a silver tray that she set down on the small table beside the bed. "Here we are. Callum? Can I please see your bite?"

He hesitated, his fingers twitching at the edge of the filthy, blood-soaked bandage, but at a gentle nod from Madam Pomfrey, he ripped it off. Remus' grip on his shoulder tightened, but he said nothing.

Muttering a cleaning spell, Poppy inspected the bite. She reached for one of her salves and carefully spread a cool ointment over the inflamed wounds, her soothing hands pulling his attention away from the pain. "This will draw some of the heat out, dear," she explained. "It was very close to being infected." She had him drink a nasty potion to continue fighting the first stages of festering, then wound a long white bandage around his forearm, tight, but not too tight.

"You can't heal it like a normal cut or gash, can you?" he guessed, absently tugging at the knot of the bandage to test it."

"No, Callum, you can't," she told him. "Something in the saliva keeps it from being able to be taken care of with magic. Now, I want you to keep this clean, and be careful, and come back to see me tomorrow so we can put a fresh bandage on it, all right?"

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded politely.

"Remus, you'll need to talk to Severus about making a double batch of Wolfsbane."

"I thought I might tackle that particular obstacle tonight," he replied. "After all the students are in bed and can't hear his snide comments."

"Or his swearing?" she added with a little laugh. "I have to put silencing charms on his curtains whenever he lands himself in here, for fear of a student overhearing him."

"Everyone learns the words one way or another," he countered. "At least if they're overhearing him, he isn't directing it at them."

The woman chuckled, shaking her head. "Be off with you now, Remus," she ordered. "And try not to be a bad influence on the boy."

"Yes, ma'am," he saluted cheekily. He stood and motioned for Callum to follow.

The pair left the infirmary and walked through the corridors to Remus' rooms, coming to a stop outside a painting of a beautiful rose garden under a full moon. "Ridikkulus," he announced, and the painting swung outward to reveal his door. He went in, closing the door after the boy, and sat down on a comfortable brown leather couch. He watched his guest glance around the room, nostrils flaring at his new instincts sought out information, then settling himself awkwardly in an overstuffed armchair. "In a little while, Callum, we'll add another room in here, so you'll have your own room. I'll shrink down some of my things until we can get to Diagon Alley and get you your own."

"I haven't any money, sir," he mumbled.

"Don't worry about that," the man assured. He knew that Dumbledore would help defray the costs, and own monetary situation wasn't nearly so bad as it had been when he first came back to Hogwarts. "And you can call me Remus, Callum," he added. "You don't need to latch on the 'sir'."

"Yes, sir."

Remus rolled his eyes but let it go. The two sat in silence for a time, each absorbed in his own thoughts. Perhaps half an hour had passed before they were both startled by a low growl. They looked at each other, and the sound was repeated. Their eyes moved down to Callum's stomach, which emitted a third grumble.

"When's dinner, sir?"

As it turned out, however, Remus didn't need to wait until after curfew to talk to the irritable Potions Master. In order to sit next to Callum, rather than leaving the boy on his own, the DADA teacher ended up sitting next to Snape, who generally had one or two empty seats between him and the next person. He judged his timing carefully as he ate, waiting for his moment. Finally, when his colleague had taken a rather large bit of chicken, he pounced. So to speak. "Severus," he started casually. "Do you think you'd be up to making a double batch of the Wolfsbane Potion this month?"

The pale man beside him swallowed quickly, nearly choking. "Why?" he demanded, sneering. "Is it getting to hard for you to control, Lupin?"

"No, we just have another werewolf living in the castle now," he replied, his voice still deceptively nonchalant. "You see, I've taken him under my wing, more or less, and he'll need the potion as well."

Silence stretched out between them, until finally, Severus spoke, his rich voice dangerously controlled. "You what?"