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Lupin received his start-of-term owl in the middle of August. Enclosed were his timetable and class lists, provisional passwords for his office and living quarters, and a booklet of administrative information about the running of the school. The letter itself was in comparison brief, merely calling all the teachers to a preparatory meeting five days before the students arrived, to discuss several new issues and procedures and give them time to settle in before chaos descended. Lupin grinned to himself at McGonagall's wording and read her extra hand-written note to him. Not you, Remus. I shall call tomorrow if that is convenient.

She arrived early, and as he offered her coffee and some of his toast, Lupin silently gave thanks that he had dressed before breakfasting. No matter that she had not been his teacher for nearing fifteen years; her disapproval could still strike the fear of God into him.

"What have I done to deserve a private briefing then, Minerva?" he smiled.

She answered curtly. "I checked the Lunar calendar."

"It's a safe date – a clear two days before." He chuckled quietly. "You need to get a new calendar."

"I thought you might be feeling ill."

That caught him unawares, and he looked at her sharply. "I will be. Thank you, that's kind."

"That's manners, Remus."

"But I'll thank you anyway. Now, what is it you have to tell me?"

She sighed. "There's a lot of it. And some of it is personal to you, but I shall come to that in a moment. First, security."

He sipped his coffee thoughtfully. "I assume this is because…"

"Sirius Black. Yes. We are having to introduce some very stringent security measures. Very stringent. Not at all pleasant, but in the circumstances quite unavoidable, I am afraid. Dementors."

"What?"

She gave him one sharp look before surrendering into another sigh. "I know. But the Ministry insists, as do the governors, and as will the parents. Dumbledore refuses to have them inside the grounds, which is a mercy, but they will be stationed permanently around the walls checking all who go in and out. It is necessary, Remus. There cannot be any chance of him entering the school."

A sudden, long-forgotten apprehension swelled in Lupin and he felt himself compelled to push incautiously for a reassurance. "No trick, no disguise, no metamorphosis would fool them?"

"He would not be able to avoid them, no." Her stare was hard and searching.

Lupin's fear had subsided, if not disappeared and he was able to answer nonchalantly, not concealing his distaste. "The Dementors will, of course, be able guards. They have such experience."

McGonagall nodded briefly as she looked down again at her papers, but Lupin had been afflicted with a horrible hollowness and could not let her move on.

"Minerva…" She looked up in surprise at his tone. He shook himself, and tried to phrase a question that would ease his mind. "Is…is there any reason to suppose that he, that… Black, might have any interest in Hogwarts? I mean, do they think he might attack the school, the students…" A thought struck him. "…Dumbledore?"

McGonagall looked pained. "Remus…"

"It's alright, Minerva. Just tell me!"

She blinked in surprise – Lupin rarely raised his voice – then visibly straightened herself as she replied calmly. "Harry Potter. He escaped in order to kill Harry Potter."

"Oh Christ…" he stared down at the table, at his hands balled into tense fists. No. He could not let this happen again, could not accept that Sirius was, again, responsible for this… Not able to explain, even to himself, what exactly 'this' was, Lupin nevertheless felt a despair almost as desolate as that thirteen years ago, felt his insides shrink away as a new emptiness took over him. Old wounds that had only ever been hidden, not healed, forced themselves into his notice and only the consciousness of Minerva's sharp gaze stopped him becoming altogether consumed. She had been kinder even than he had realised by coming to see him alone.

"Remus. Here." She handed him a flask of some potion that tasted warm but sharp as he swallowed. As it hit the back of his throat he was jolted back into alertness while also, paradoxically, calmed. He stretched out a hand to see it perfectly steady, and then looked again at the label-less bottle.

"Handy stuff to have around," he said with a, despite the potion, shaky smile.

McGonagall stared grimly back. "For shock, though I didn't expect you to be so bad." She stowed the bottle back inside her robes then continued roughly, her Scots harsher than usual. "It's been thirteen years, Remus, and you're a fool to have kept running. How are you ever going to be any use to anyone if you can't think about him and function normally at the same time? You're a Hogwarts professor now, and you've got to protect the students. Don't. Fall. Apart."

His gaze was burning, his voice icy. "I am not going to fall apart."

She looked not the slightest abashed. "I'm glad to hear it. Now shall we move on?"

He gestured brusquely in assent as she tweaked her spectacles and continued to scrutinise him. "Good. Now, the Wolfsbane Potion…"

McGonagall hesitated before she left, wanting to explain. "Remus…"

"Mmh?" He looked at her in polite interest, but his eyes already contained acceptance of her as-yet-unsaid apology, as well as his own plea for the same.

"I was harsh, and a little cruel," she quelled his disclaimer with a flick of her hand, "but it was not without reason. This year you must be unimpeachable There must be no cause for doubt in you, do you understand? There were mutterings about the wisdom of employing a werewolf, and a…" She paused, "…non-Establishment figure even before Black's escape." She watched in satisfaction as he showed no reaction to the name. "You are known as his old schoolfriend, and even if your loyalties are not publicly questioned…"

"I will have to prove that I am capable of fighting him, and willing to do it."

She paled almost imperceptibly, before saying, in a matter-of-fact tone, "Hopefully it will not come to that, but, essentially, yes. You will have to prove yourself ten times over: to the staff" Snape, she thought. Severus, he thought "to the parents, to the Ministry." She paused before concluding, gently, "It's Dumbledore's judgement on the line as well, you know."

"I know." He smiled and held the door open, and McGonagall knew that her first official meeting with the new Hogwarts professor had ended, and not by her will, but by that of this mild-mannered, tired young man. It was a situation unknown in her experience, and much as she tried to resent it she could feel nothing but respect and liking. Even sympathy seemed an impertinence. He'll do, she mused to herself as she continued briskly down the street. The girls will like him.

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