CHAPTER ONE

Remus Lupin flipped the wet page idly, shielding it from the pouring rains with a slip of birch bark, eyes flying over the neatly scrawled words.

The book was not a particularly interesting one, old and outdated, written entirely in Latin. It described the middle age government systems in excruciating detail, showing how even the lowest of the low influenced history. Page upon page, the author, Vianno Delclaro, described a system of government that never really existed. A few simple sketches of architecture and a single page of blueprint thankfully broke the monotony for the eleven year old, but now he had memorized even those.

The Lupins were extremely poor, just able to pay the mortgage for their three room house. A total of seven books, including an ancient dictionary, completed their entertainment center, unless one counted the woods.

Thick and dangerous, the woods behind the house were Remus Lupin's favorite hideout-somewhere where he could escape the endless financial discussions that had caused his father's hair to turn solid gray by thirty. A place he could be alone, imagining he lived in one of the gigantic mansions he read of. Or receiving his Hogwarts letter. Or hearing of a lycanthropy cure. Or figuring out some complex science theory. That's what he liked. To imagine-to act. Whenever he was alone, he'd pretend to be a Victorian Lord, or a Hogwarts Student, talking to the Headmaster, or the King…

Now he was just a wet boy.

For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to pretend anything-he didn't even want to read a book he had memorized just two years ago.

Sighing, he closed the thick volume and hugged it close to his thin chest. Standing up on weak legs, he reluctantly began making the two-mile trek to his home. At the edge of the forest he stooped down and picked a few young mushrooms, sticking eleven in his pocket and sucking on the twelfth, savoring its juicy, ripe flavor. It was rare this particular type of mushroom came into season, and when it did, its edible time was very short.

Sitting on a sharp stump, Lupin closed his eyes gratefully as his taste buds prickled with delight at the unfamiliar tartness. As he nibbled sparingly on the root, a deep voice pondered behind him,

"The mushrooms must be very well nurtured if they are that tasty."

Lupin froze, the possibilities of the voice running through his head. It seemed pleasant enough, but he knew better than to trust a book by its cover…after all, Vianno Delclaro's had appeared intriguing...Suddenly a white-bearded man crouched before him, and Lupin fell off his stump.

"Professor!" He cried after spitting out the mushroom, leaping to his feet, "May I help you?"

Dumbledore smiled, settling down on a smooth stump and gesturing for Lupin to do the same. "Actually, I was wondering if I could do something for you."

"What do you mean, sir?" Lupin frowned as he realized what his words implied. "I mean…why do you wish to help me?"

"Remus. What would you say if I offered you a spot at Hogwarts?"

It took Lupin a moment to react. For a minute he thought the recent full moon had addled his brain more than usual. When he shook his head to clear it and saw Dumbledore still smiling pleasantly at him, sitting on stump in his backyard, the poor boy fell of his trunk for the second time that day.

Gathering himself in quiet embarrassment, Lupin said quietly, "I would be most honored, sir, and quite ready to accept, should it be in your best interest."

Dumbledore's smile widened fondly, "Why, Remus, it is in my best interest no more than it is not. I believe you deserve a chance to learn what Hogwarts has to offer, and I have the power to give you that." A thin silver eyebrow was raised. "Unless you wish otherwise…?"

"No sir! I would honestly love to go to Hogwarts," Lupin assured earnestly, "I was merely wondering if my attendance at the school would cause tensions between you and the Ministry."

"I shall deal with our noble government myself," Dumbledore stood, "Now, I believe we ought to discuss this with your parents as I am sure they would be none too pleased to see a strange old man disappear suddenly with their child."

"I'm sure its not what you're used to sir, but…care for a mushroom?" Lupin held back his blush with little difficulty, waiting for the reply.

"Nothing like a bit of home-grown," Dumbledore inclined his head and accepted a mushroom. "Quite good. What type are they?"

Lupin shrugged. "Not sure, sir. All I know is that they're edible, otherwise I would've been finished years ago."

"I see."

The two walked in silence for a ways, before the new Headmaster spoke again.

"You know, Remus, certain precautions will have to be taken if you chose, as it seems you will, to attend Hogwarts."

"Yes, sir. I would find my presence highly unhealthy for the other students if they weren't."

"I'm glad you understand. You see-"

"Professor!" Dumbledore turned calmly to smile benignly at an extremely shocked middle-aged man who stood, leaning heavily against the doorway to his home. "How-how pleasant it is to-to see you again, sir."

Dumbledore stepped closer to the trembling man. "John Lupin. Ravenclaw, if I remember correct?"

"Ye-Yes, sir." John said, shaking Dumbledore's proffered hand, "Please-come inside." He held open the thick wood door, shooting Lupin a wondering look. The boy merely smiled as he followed the Headmaster inside, patting his father on the arm.

"Told you I wasn't alone in the woods."

John's sigh was as thick as the closing door as he shook his head scoldingly at his son, "Behave, Remus." He warned, "I would hate for you to leave the wrong impression."

Lupin nodded silently, his attempt at humor having been, as always, in vain. Entering the paltry living room, he addressed the now-sitting Dumbledore.

"A cup of coffee, sir?" He inquired politely, sweeping down to remove an empty water glass from the table beside Dumbledore's chair.

"Water will do," Dumbledore replied jovially, eyes twinkling as he watched the thin boy retreat to a small indoor cove. It took him a minute to realize it was the kitchen.

Lupin placed the chipped glass into the metal sink as gently as possible, trying not to disturb the fragile peace. Opening the least rotted of the cupboards, he took out a musty glass and tried to secretively polish it on his worn and wet cotton shirt. Glancing anxiously behind him, he was glad to see his father small-talking a none-too-fooled Dumbledore, and he slipped out the kitchen door.

As he closed the door, he turned to the old stone well that served as sink and fountain to the poor family, and lifted the heavy wood pail from its seat on the edge of the well and launched it over the crumbling side, watching the sturdy rope unwind quickly from its homemade reel.

After hearing a faint splash, he stopped the rope and began hauling the now-full bucket to the top, doubling his efforts as he heard a good-natured laugh echo from the dim interiors of his beaten house.

Heaving the water onto the well wall and leaping aside as the liquid slopped over the ground, Lupin dipped the glass into the pail, wiped the edge off on his shirt, and hurried inside.

His father stood, smiling nervously, in front of the fireplace, wringing his hands anxiously, as Dumbledore chuckled, shaking his head slightly in mirth.

"Here you go, sir," Lupin said quietly, placing the glass on the end table, over the water stain the previous had left.

"Thank you, Remus. Sit, please."

Lupin obeyed, perching nervously on the edge of a rickety rocking chair beside his father and across from the Headmaster.

"John," Dumbledore gestured to a ripped armchair diagonal from Lupin, "Please, relax."

Sinking gratefully into the chair, John stammered, "What-What is it that you wish, Professor?"

"As I am sure you know, I am now Headmaster of Hogwarts and fully in control of almost all of our policies. Including who we admit." He stared hard at Lupin, who swallowed. "Personally, I believe this world needs a little less bigotry and starting diversity at Hogwarts seems a powerful beginning."

"Oh, Headmaster!" Lupin cried despite himself, grateful tears streaming down his sharply-angled face as he fell to his knees.

"Remus!" His father barked, and Lupin quickly scuttled back to his chair, briefly wiping his eyes, before returning his expression to one of indifference.

Something flickered in Dumbledore's eyes. "I believe we all know what I'm offering here," he said slowly, "So if I could be graced with an answer…?"

Though his eyes remained on Lupin, the boy did not answer, instead looking silently at the warping floor in front of him.

"I suppose…" John said wearily, rubbing his eyes. "Remus, go to your room while the Headmaster and I discuss the details."

Lupin nodded and stood silently, but-

"No. Remus should know the conditions on which he is being admitted. Stay, please."

Again, Lupin nodded, sitting with his hands folded delicately in his lap, chin turned slightly down and eyes searching the threadbare rug beneath him.

There was a tense silence for a moment. John glanced nervously at Lupin, a hint of embarrassment in his gaze, and Lupin, though he knew the expression directed his way, remained with his eyes fixed on the fraying carpet. Dumbledore coughed.

"As I have mentioned to Remus, precautions have been set in place for his arrival. Remus-there has been a tree planted on the edge of the Forbidden Forest-a Whomping Willow." The corners of the old man's mouth twitched as he saw Remus shift closer to the edge of his seat in interest. "The tree will be easily accessible for you, but not for anyone who doesn't know how to get in."

"How so, Headmaster?" Lupin ventured, ignoring the warning glance his father sent him.

Dumbledore smiled yet again. "You shall see. I will tell you at Hogwarts-in my office. Meet me the first night as soon as your dorm-mates have fallen into slumber." Lupin nodded.

"How will this tree assist him, sir?" John asked, running a calloused hand through his lank hair.

Leaning back, the Headmaster said, " Beneath the tree is a tunnel. This tunnel-which was built long ago, but has recently been restored-leads to an old, and-if I might say so-decrepit-looking house. It was often ignored, and I doubt many of the Hogsmeade villagers remember it-a lonely old abandoned place on the top of a hill. I don't even believe there was a path leading to it.

"As sad as it may appear, its support-both magical and non-is phenomenal. I myself cast many of the protection and security spells currently in place. Both you and your peers will be thoroughly protected.

"A quarter of an hour before the rising of the moon you will travel with the school nurse, Madam Pomfrey, down to the Willow, then, alone, up the passage and into the house."

"How many of the staff and faculty know?" Lupin asked, a touch of worry in his voice.

Dumbledore looked him straight in the eye. "As many as I trust explicitly, and as few as necessary." Seeing his confused look, he elaborated, "One or two, Madam Pomfrey not included. Only those who need to. Of course, should you be placed in a House whose Head has not been notified, they will be as well."

"Agreed, Professor."

"Very well then." Dumbledore stood. "I am glad to see that this has worked out finely, and, Remus, I look forward to seeing you on the first of September. Probably around nine or ten, I am assuming?"

Lupin smiled. "As soon as possible, Headmaster."

Dumbledore nodded and turned to leave, but-

"Ah! I almost forgot."

Whipping out a crisp, tri-folded sheet of parchment out of an inner robe pocket, he handed it to Lupin, who held it delicately, as though it were the essence of his life. "Your Hogwarts letter."

Straightening up, the elderly wizard smiled one last time, nodded a farewell to John, winked at Lupin, and was gone.