Remus Lupin was proud to say that he was very normal, thank you very much.

He was a shy ten-year-old with brown hair, hazel eyes, and a very skinny frame. He liked to read and memorize 19th-century poetry, even though he wasn't very good at memorizing things. He always wore similar clothes (because really, who wants to waste time in the morning picking out something to wear?). As a result, he owned exactly seventeen socks, eight oversized jumpers (four green, one red, one blue, and two grey), seven pairs of trousers, ten white high-collared button-down shirts, one pair of shoes, and one knitted hat (courtesy of his mum). Yes, he had counted. Frequently.

He knew a bit of Latin and a little Welsh. He had just about memorized Flickerhand's Complete Book of Jinxes and anything written by Bathilda Bagshot. His favorite animal was a sheep. He was absolute rubbish at music in general, except for one piano piece that was muscle memory at this point—Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata (but only a simplified version of the first movement).

He didn't have any friends. Only his mum, his dad, his pet toad Bufo, and the Boggart that his father kept in the wardrobe downstairs. They had named it Garrison, which was, in Remus' opinion, a perfectly respectable name for a Boggart.

Yes, Remus Lupin was very normal. He had some odd interests, sure, but most people do. He had an odd disposition for someone so young and seemed to be much older than he was, but his father was just the same at Remus' age. And he didn't have many friends, but being a bit of a loner is nothing incredibly strange...

Oh, who was he kidding? Remus Lupin was not normal whatsoever, even by wizarding standards. In fact, he was probably the most abnormal child in the area—in the country—on the continent—in the world? He wouldn't be surprised.

Normal, his mum always said, was overrated.

Normal, his dad always said, was a myth.

It didn't matter what normal was, though; not really. Whatever is was, Remus Lupin wasn't it, and it was the bane of his existence.

Remus was a werewolf—he had been now for about six years. The reason he didn't have any friends was that he couldn't let anyone figure out. The reason he had so many odd interests was that he didn't have any friends, and the reason he was so skinny was that he was dreadfully unhealthy for a ten-year-old.

But hey, normalcy is relative, as he told himself constantly. He could find his own normal. And Remus' normal was not going to Hogwarts like most wizards did. It was not playing outside with friends. It was not going to the cinema, playing sports, or even getting a full night's sleep every night. It consisted of pain, fear, and lots and lots of reading.

Perhaps Remus was normal—but only by his own standards. And since there was nobody around to disagree with him, he basked in his own normality day after day—month after month—year after year. He made dinner with his mother, memorized poetry, and tried his best to imitate a happy, healthy, preteen.

March fifth, 1971, was another lazy day that Remus had become accustomed to. The full moon was in exactly one week, but he had quite a bit of energy for such a day. He was currently resting on the couch reading The Hinkypunk of Hereford, a completely fictional book but interesting nonetheless. Just as he was at the part where the hero of the story discovered where the hinkypunk had been hiding, he noticed that something was off.

Remus loathed to admit it, but he happened to have very good senses—taste, hearing, smell. His eyesight was mostly normal (though his night vision was better than that of his family's), but the other senses came with his being a—well, a Dark creature. And right now, he knew —he just knew!—that someone was at the door, someone whose scent he did not recognize. Remus paused his reading and listened carefully. He heard someone breathing—probably an older man, he was guessing—and light footsteps—and hard shoes on the sidewalk of his front door.

He smelled lemons. Whoever it was smelt of lemons. How odd.

Remus was so caught up in listening that it did not even occur to him that this man might be here for a reason. So, when the man knocked on the door, Remus was so surprised that he very nearly fell off of the couch.

The next thing that Remus heard was footsteps from upstairs as his mum and dad rushed downstairs. He heard the door open.

"Hello; who might you be?" Remus' mum enquired (Remus inferred that she had reached the doorbell first). "Sorry, we're not fit to be hosts at the moment—"

"Professor Dumbledore." Remus' father said in a state of awe and shock. At that, Remus really did fall off the couch with a small thump. He had read about Dumbledore. Why was he at the Lupin residence, of all places?

"How lovely to see you again, Lyall, although there really is no need to call me Professor," said a third voice whom Remus presumed to be Dumbledore. "Your house looks lovely."

"Yes, yes. Thank you. Erm, I'm sorry, sir, but my wife is right... we're not fit to be hosts. Please send a letter at your earliest convenience and I'll do my best to... answer your questions?"

"I have more of a proposition than a question. May I be so impolite as to invite myself in?"

Remus was still lying on the floor, blanket tangled around his torso and book upside-down on the floor. He gingerly picked up the book and pulled himself into an upright position, still listening intently.

"No, I'm sorry. I must ask you to leave. Our son is... ill."

Remus wasn't ill, actually, and a couple years ago he might have been indignant at this statement. But now that he was older and wiser, he realized the importance of keeping his condition secret... although he really would have loved to meet this strange man. His voice fascinated Remus to no end. That and the lemons.

"It's about your son, actually."

Remus would have fallen off the couch again had he not already been on the floor.

"Do you... know about him?" That was his dad.

"That he is nearly eleven years old, that he is a wizard, or that he is a werewolf? Because I am pleased to inform you that I know all three."

Remus could feel his heartbeat in his ears. How odd, he observed.

"I don't know what you want, but... please send us a letter, sir."

Remus' hands were shaking now—which was disturbingly similar to the hour leading up to a transformation. He tried not to dwell on the thought.

"I'll be on my way, then." said Dumbledore.

All at once, there was the unmistakable crack of Apparition. Before Remus could even register this, a tall, bearded man stood before him, wearing an extremely bold green raincoat and blue slacks.

And he smelt of lemons.

Remus pushed himself back onto the couch, suddenly aware of the odd position that he was in. He rearranged his facial expression to look neutral (he hoped), and prayed that Dumbledore couldn't hear his ridiculously fast heartbeat. His parents had left. Where were they?

"Good morning, Remus," said Dumbledore.

"Er... yeah."

"Fancy a game of Gobstones?"

Remus was afraid of what might happen if he refused. "Er," he affirmed.

"Excellent. I always have a set on hand, you know."

True to his word, Dumbledore pulled out a well-worn Gobstones set and took a seat on the carpet. "I assume you know how to play?"

"I think." Remus slid off of the couch again, landing with a very loud thump on the ground. This man knew. He knew. Albus Dumbledore knew. He could feel his cheeks grow red. This was not normal. This was not part of his quiet normalcy, and he wasn't sure what to do. He knew. Remus couldn't stand to look him in the face, which was a shame because his blue eyes rather reminded him of his mum's.

With that, they started the game in an awkward silence. Remus imagined all of the terrible things that this man could do to him. He had already defeated a Dark wizard, and Remus was a defenseless Dark creature... he'd discovered the twelve uses of dragons' blood; what about werewolf blood?... he was so good at magic and Remus wasn't; he only knew a few simple smells...

"Are you quite all right, Mr. Lupin?"

Remus realized that his hands were shaking quite violently. "Oh, haha, that's funny..." he mused, not realizing that he was doing so aloud until it was too late. "Yes. I think."

"Your play."

Remus tried his best, but his aim was off and his hands were shaky, so the victor ended up being Dumbledore. Also, Remus was absolute rubbish at Gobstones. He had no excuse.

"Are you sure you're all right? You look quite pale."

Remus scooted backwards and wrapped his arms around his torso. "Please don't hurt me," he squeaked. "I'll be very careful and won't ever hurt anyone and I'll do whatever you ask unless it's dangerous I suppose and I'm really nice when you get to know me and I'm not dangerous at all I promise and..."

"I'm not going to hurt you! Is that really what you thought? No wonder you look so nervous. Here; drink some water. Aguamenti." Dumbledore filled up a clear glass (which was also in his raincoat pocket—magically enlarged, Remus wondered?) with water and handed it to Remus.

Remus took a shaky sip of water. "You smell of lemons." He inwardly cursed himself for being so blunt. Was there really nothing else he could think to say?

"Do I?" asked Dumbledore mildly, instead of being offended. "Well, that is likely because I have recently discovered a Muggle candy known as a "lolly", and I am rather fond of the lemon-flavored ones. We have them in the wizarding world, of course, but I find that there's nothing quite like Muggle artificial flavoring." With that, he pulled out a fistful of lemon-flavored lollipops from his raincoat pocket. "Would you like one?"

Remus didn't, but he was still wary to directly oppose Dumbledore. "Er."

"It's okay to say no."

"Not particularly, thank you."

Suddenly, Remus' parents burst into the sitting room. "What—how—why are you in my sitting room?" Remus' dad spluttered.

"I thought you were leaving!" Remus' mum said.

"I never said that. I said I'd be on my way, if I remember correctly. I never said where I was going. Now that we're all here, we might as well get down to business." Dumbledore stood up, brushed off his hideous green raincoat, and then sat down on the chair to his left. Remus slowly reclaimed his seat on the couch, keeping his eyes on his father (who was looking more desperately confused by the second. Remus rather felt the same way).

"Lemon lolly?" Dumbledore offered. Remus' dad shook his head and sat on the couch next to Remus almost protectively.

"If you hurt my son..."

"Why would I hurt Remus? Lyall, you knew me for seven years. Do I really give you the impression of someone who would hurt a child?"

"Well, no, but..."

"I actually came to ask him if he'd like to attend Hogwarts next month."

There was a long silence. Remus could hear his mum's breath speed up, his dad's breathing stop completely, and Dumbledore's even, deep breathing as if he hadn't a care in the world. A wizard that powerful probably doesn't, he thought.

It was only then that the idea hit him.

Dumbledore had just offered that he, a werewolf, attend Hogwarts.

Remus' dad finally broke the silence. "He... he can't. Sir, you probably don't understand. It's very difficult to... contain him... on full moons."

Remus felt his face grow hot again. He didn't want Dumbledore to hear of how dangerous he was, how violent he could be, to imagine the deep scratches on the walls of the basement and claws and teeth and a full-grown werewolf trying to escape...

Remus' hands started shaking again. Goodness, perhaps he was the one who didn't want to think of it.

Dumbledore smiled. "I hope you will forgive my arrogance, but I like to think I know a lot of things. The security system that I have implemented is assuredly brilliant."

Remus didn't want to know what type of security he meant. He briefly wondered if it could be a type of torture.

"What about the other students? If someone were to find out, his life would be completely ruined!"

"How good are you at lying, Remus?" Dumbledore asked, still smiling.

"The earth is flat. I'm a brilliant flute player. It's Christmas Eve, and tomorrow is Easter," Remus deadpanned, surprising himself with his own boldness.

"See?" said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling. "That was very convincing."

"There's too much at stake," Remus' dad whispered.

"May I talk with you two outside for a minute, Lyall and... Hope, was it?"

"Yes, sir. Of course, sir." The three made their way outside and Remus heard the door shut definitively. He could still hear them, of course, and he stayed as still as possible in order to do so.

"You shouldn't talk about ruining his life before he has had one to begin with. He's a brilliant child, and a Hogwarts education could help him immensely. He needs to interact with children his age, and this will build skills that will benefit him forever—in a safe and secure location from which he may depart whenever he wishes."

Remus was touched, and also a little miffed. It sounded a lot to him like Dumbledore was implying that he didn't have any people skills. Well, Remus supposed that he didn't give him any reason to think otherwise. But still.

They entered the room once again, and Remus tried to look innocent. "Remus, your parents have consented to your attendance of Hogwarts if you so desire. So might I officially ask you: knowing that you and your secret will be kept safe, that your education will improve your future, and that you will be very well cared-for... do you wish to attend Hogwarts?"

Remus thought it over. "No."

"No?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Won't... won't the staff know, at least?"

"Yes, they will. But I assure you that they will treat you as if you were any other student."

"You can't promise that."

"No, I cannot. But I can promise that anyone who fails to do so will answer to me."

"You're... not very scary."

"That is not what you said fifteen minutes ago."

"I could hurt someone."

"You could not. Again, Mr. Lupin, I am a very accomplished wizard."

"I..." Remus closed his eyes to rid himself of the images of a werewolf—of him—hurting innocent students, of blood, of death, of a trial at the Ministry, of Hogwarts students teasing him and hurting him and teachers giving him dirty looks and his claws and teeth and fur and masquerading as a human in a place he didn't belong...

"Remus. May I be frank with you?"

"You may go by whichever name you like, sir."

"Pardon?"

"You may go by whichever name you like, Frank."

There was yet another stunned silence. Remus opened his eyes quizzically—it hadn't been a very good joke, but it wasn't that bad. Was it?

Suddenly, Dumbledore let out quite the undignified snort. "Very kind of you," he said, his eyes twinkling to the point of it being physically dangerous. Remus wondered if he had sunglasses in his raincoat pocket; even the sun didn't twinkle so much. "To be blunt, Remus, I'm afraid it is going to be difficult for you to get a job in the future."

Remus cast his eyes downward and nodded. Yes, he knew that. He knew that all too well. It was a glaring issue. It glared so much that Remus once again wondered about the sunglasses.

"A Hogwarts education will help you with that. There are people in this world who will treat you unfairly, yes. But there are also people who will see your fantastic marks—as I am sure you will receive—and give you the chance that you deserve. A chance that I am giving you right now. I do believe that Hogwarts will be beneficial. Would you like to reconsider?"

Remus thought it over. He thought back to his old sense of normalcy, his color-coded closet and quiet routine—the pain and the nights spent on the couch with a cold washcloth pressed to his face—the soup that his mum made on full moons.

"Remus... you should go. You'll... you'll have fun." Remus' dad said, placing his hand on Remus' right shoulder.

Then Remus thought of what could be. Friends. A loud atmosphere, bustling with students of all backgrounds. A secret, yes, but one that was shared by the whole staff. Learning. Tests. A wand and practical lessons and people and... a "brilliant security system".

It didn't sound particularly pleasant.

He opened his mouth to decline again, but then realized that he had already said yes.

"Wonderful," said Dumbledore. "I'll see you in September, Mr. Lupin. And I am proud to give you this personally." Dumbledore extended a letter with a multicolored seal, and Remus took it hesitantly. With that, Dumbledore Apparated away once again, and Remus leaned back into the couch, dazed.

He opened his letter with his short fingernail, careful not to break the seal.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Maybe normal could change after all.