Remus arrived to the library for his tutoring session two hours early. He was nervous, but he didn't know why.

Actually, he did know why. What if this boy asked him something to which he didn't know the answer? What if Remus seemed stupid? He'd been top of the year first year, sure, but he'd been fairly far away from the position in his second year. His marks really were getting lower now that he wasn't revising all hours of the day. What if Dumbledore changed his mind and took the position away? What if Remus wasn't cut out for this at all?

Worse, what if Miles actually was the boy from the train? What if he really was scared of Remus because he knew that he was a werewolf? What if he told everyone?

Remus shivered a bit at the prospect. If everyone knew, then he would have to leave, and he couldn't bear leaving his friends. Professor Questus had offered to help him continue his studies if he was ever ousted from Hogwarts, but… well, now Professor Questus was gone. Remus would be back to square one (except worse), unless his friends decided to continue to write to him and visit him…

Of course they would.

Wouldn't they?

Still, Miles couldn't possibly know that Remus was a werewolf, since both St. Mungo's and the Ministry were sworn to secrecy. Miles could only know the truth if one of the staff had told him—though Remus was sure that they were sworn to secrecy, too—right?

Right!

Probably.

So, really, Miles could only know if Professor Dumbledore had told him… and why would Dumbledore do that? Remus didn't think that he would. After all, Remus would quite literally trust Dumbledore with his very life (he was more or less already doing that as he spoke).

Unless… what if Miles was a werewolf, too?

Dumbledore had told Remus himself that someday he wished to invite more werewolves to Hogwarts, and he had mentioned that, if there was ever an eligible werewolf, then he or she would be invited immediately. What if Dumbledore had told Miles what Remus was because Miles was a werewolf, too? After all, it would be ridiculous to have two werewolves in such a small place and not tell them each that they weren't the only ones.

So why didn't Remus know?

It was ridiculous and improbable. If Miles had been a werewolf, then Remus would have known. Not because Professor Dumbledore would have told him (although Remus didn't see why he would tell Miles and not Remus), but because Remus was certain that he would recognize a fellow werewolf. He wasn't quite sure how, but he knew that he would. He was a werewolf himself, after all, so it would be downright embarrassing not to recognize the signs immediately!

Besides, Miles had looked perfectly healthy—much healthier than Remus, and Remus had top-of-the-line medical care. No, Miles was not a werewolf. Remus would have known.

"What are you doing here?" whispered Madam Pince nastily, violently ripping Remus from his thoughts. "You're not reading, and you're tapping your foot very loudly."

"Ah… tutoring. I'm waiting," explained Remus.

"Tutoring should not be done in the library. It's too loud."

"We're only meeting here, and then we'll go somewhere else," Remus promised.

Madam Pince rolled her eyes. "Fine. But stop tapping your foot."

Remus nodded and stopped tapping his foot. Instead, he used the time to skim his old first-year textbooks. The worn pages reminded him of much lonelier days—days spent in the Hospital Wing without his friends (how had it been before they visited? Remus could hardly remember), days spent alone in the dormitory while his friends were watching Quidditch practices, nights spent in the Shrieking Shack reading the Duplicated versions of these textbooks….

Remus couldn't possibly go through the first-year curriculum for every single one of his classes in only a few hours, but that was okay—the more he read, the more he realized he remembered. He knew the first-year curriculum for every single class like the back of his hand. He would be okay.

Soon enough, Miles arrived—and Remus had been correct; he was the exact same Miles from the train. He looked around awkwardly, seemingly in search of his tutor.

"Miles!" said Remus. "Right here!"

Madam Pince shushed Remus harshly, and he apologized—his apology was also shushed, of course, but Remus didn't care. He put his books away and walked up to Miles, who was looking at Remus in horror.

Yeah, he definitely knew something.

"Hey," Remus said softly. "Madam Pince doesn't want us to talk in here, so we should probably go somewhere else. Is that okay?"

Miles nodded slowly. "You're my… I mean, you're the person that Dumbledore… he said…"

"Yeah, he asked me to tutor you," said Remus. "It's a good job we've already met, hm?"

Miles didn't say anything, but Madam Pince was still staring daggers at the two of them, so Remus slowly shepherded Miles out of the library and into the corridor, where they could talk freely. Well, where Remus could talk freely, that was, for Miles was still as silent as a stone statue. "Here, let's go to the Black Lake," said Remus. "I know a good spot behind a tree. No one ever comes there."

Miles made a small squeaking noise, and Remus sighed. Typically, he would have understood completely if someone knew he was a werewolf and didn't want to be alone with him, but Miles didn't even know… did he?

"Look, Miles," Remus said gently, "no offense, but you seem terrified of me. Is there a reason for that? I'm a scrawny weakling, and I couldn't hurt you if I tried." Miles still wasn't responding, so Remus tried a new tack. "I don't bite or anything," he said, gauging Miles' reaction carefully—if Miles knew, then there would be a disproportionate reaction.

Unfortunately, Miles flinched massively at the word bite. That didn't help matters, but it also didn't prove anything; after all, the phrase in general did sound a bit threatening. "Come on," Remus coaxed. "I won't be angry or anything. Just please tell me why you're scared of me, because things will be a lot harder if we're not comfortable with each other."

After a long silence, Miles swallowed and answered Remus' question. "Mum told me to stay away from you, that's all."

"She did? Why?"

"I don't know," whimpered Miles, "but once she told me to stay away from a man in the street and I… I didn't, and then… it was a Death Eater… and I almost died."

"Erm… do you want to talk about it?" Remus asked awkwardly, knowing from personal experience that talking about difficult things sometimes helped.

"No," said Miles. "I'm just scared, that's all."

"Well, I promise I'm not going to hurt you," said Remus. "I solemnly swear it, okay?"

"Okay. You don't seem evil."

"I'm not." Remus smiled and held out his hand; Miles reluctantly shook it. "Who's your mother, then? I'd like to know what I did to her to deserve such a reputation." Remus now recognized that Miles' scent was slightly familiar, and he felt his heart sink. He suspected he knew already, but he wanted to confirm.

"She teaches here, actually," said Miles. "Professor Craff."

"…Right. Okay."

Well, that explained why Professor Craff didn't like Remus. She was afraid that he was going to hurt her child. Remus felt a little bit guilty now… and also very angry. Why would Dumbledore do this? He'd known that Miles was Craff's son. He'd known that Craff didn't like Remus. Why would he assign Miles to tutoring with Remus, of all people? Surely there were other people who could help!

Remus took a breath: in through his nose, out through his mouth. This was fine.

"Well, let's go down to the Black Lake, if you don't mind. It's a bit crowded out here in the corridor."

"Okay," said Miles.

It didn't take a Legilimens to know that Miles was still a bit uncomfortable, so Remus asked him questions about his friends and hobbies as they walked. To his grand surprise, he learned that Miles was very talented at whistling. It was a bit of an odd talent, but he had a way of flicking his tongue up to the roof of his mouth to seamlessly switch notes that Remus had never heard before (his mother could whistle, but she had stopped after a five-year-old Remus had said that it hurt his ears). Miles also had a certain vibrato to his tone that was absolutely spell-binding, and his notes were pitch-perfect.

"Dumbledore can whistle," Remus told him. "He does it in the corridors sometimes, but he's not nearly as good as you. How are you doing that? I can't whistle at all."

"Loads of practice. Mum hates me for it."

"So is it just you and your mum?"

"No. I don't even live with her. I live with my dad. Divorced, you know. He's nice. I visit Mum on weekends, but I have Dad's surname."

"Oh," said Remus, not knowing what to say. "I see."

"Why are you wearing gloves?"

"Er," said Remus, knowing full well that he couldn't say to cover the scars. "Well, James gave them to me. James Potter, you know, the really popular Quidditch player that everyone's always talking about. It was sort of a joke, since I always complained about my hands being cold, but I wear them all the time now. I like them."

"Oh," said Miles. "I see."

They arrived at the Black Lake, and Remus found a good place to sit. "Here, I brought a few sandwiches," he said. "I was going to feed one to Francine while I was waiting for you—that's the Bowtruckle's name—" Remus gestured to Francine, who was huddled under the folds of his scarf, and Miles grinned widely at the unexpected sight— "but apparently, the 'no eating in the library' rule applies to Bowtruckles, too. Here, you may have one if you'd like. I have plenty."

Miles took one hesitantly and started munching; Remus gave one to Francine, who hopped down on Remus' lap to eat it, and then took one for himself. "So… what do you need help with?"

"Everything," said Miles, mouth half-full. "But I mostly asked for help because of History of Magic. I can never seem to listen, and Mum said that it was a matter of concern that I keep falling asleep in class."

Remus laughed. "Everyone falls asleep in that class. Binns teaches right from the textbook, though, and he doesn't mind when you don't listen to him. Sometimes I work ahead taking notes from the textbook when his lectures get too boring—it's the only thing that helps me stay awake."

"I'm not good at taking notes," said Miles.

"That's okay. Loads of people aren't. But history in general is easier than you think it is—you just have to understand cause-and-effect, and then you can test yourself on the dates and details later. Do you know what caused the Soap Blizzard of 1378?"

"Er… soap?"

Remus laughed. "Yes, actually. But do you know where the soap came from?"

"No, I don't remember."

"Think about it. What could cause soap to be plentiful and big enough to cause a blizzard?"

"Er… maybe Engorgio. Or the Duplicating Charm."

"Yes, perfect," said Remus. "It was actually both. Engorgio was cast first. A wizard was trying to wash himself whilst on a broomstick—he was flying to a beautiful woman's house and wanted to smell good—and he ran out of soap." Remus poked a rock with his wand. "Engorgio, Geminio… there, see? The soap grew and then doubled… and since he was so high up in the air and had done the spell incorrectly out of desperation, it got out of control. Soap started raining down on a Muggle town. Panic! Paranoia! The Statute of Secrecy hadn't been written yet, so they didn't have policies for things like this yet, and word got out before the wizards could Obliviate anyone."

"Woah," said Miles. "What happened then?"

"It cost a lot of money to ship experienced Aurors and Obliviators out to every single city that had heard the news, and that caused an economic crisis. The wizard government created more money to pay all those people, and that led to massive inflation. Some wizards chose to integrate themselves into Muggle society and start using Muggle currency, because things were far too complicated in the wizarding world. Wizarding businesses started to falter. Magical shops and towns began moving to Muggle locations. The Soap Blizzard was kept under wraps, and wizards remained a secret, but it seemed that wizarding society was tapering out forever.

"So the wizards decided to start over entirely, and they created a new sort of currency. That's why we have Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts today. Before, it was just a bunch of silver coins called Peckies."

"Peckies?"

Probably came from the the Latin pecunia, meaning money, or perhaps straight from the Proto-Indo-European prefix pec, meaning livestock. Anyway, the biggest economic crisis in history happened because someone wanted to smell good for his girlfriend. Isn't that crazy?"

"Wow," said Miles. "That's… kind of a funny story, actually."

Remus laughed. "Isn't it? It's so much better when it's not bogged down by Professor Binns' monotone. Somehow, nothing is interesting when he says it."

For the next hour and a half, Remus helped Miles make flowcharts, memorize dates, and even helped him cast Reparo. Remus remembered learning to cast that charm. "You know, I failed my Reparo test in my first year," he confessed to Miles.

"Really? But you seem so talented!"

"I'm not, actually—I just had a strange obsession with learning in first year, and I thought I would let everybody down if I didn't get perfect marks. I worked myself down to the bone to get where I am. I wasn't very good at magic at first at all. It comes with practice, I promise." Miles still had reservations, so Remus taught him a visualization technique that he had used in the past with Peter, and it worked—pardon the pun—like a charm.

Tutoring was only supposed to last an hour, but both Miles and Remus found themselves actually having fun. Two hours later after they had begun, they wrapped up. It was starting to get cold outside—not to mention windy—and all of Miles' papers were beginning to blow away. It was a good thing that Remus had mastered the Immobilizing Charm. Francine, fortunately, seemed to be nice and toasty in Remus' scarf.

"Thank you so much," said Miles, grinning hugely. "You're so cool. I don't know why Mum told me to stay away from you at all!"

"Me, neither," said Remus. "Maybe she confused me with someone else. I'm taking her class, so I'll talk to her about it next time I see her."

Obviously, Remus had no intention of doing that. He walked Miles back to his common room (Miles had been Sorted into Hufflepuff, actually, instead of Slytherin or Gryffindor), and then he went straight to Dumbledore's office for the second day in a row.

"Ah, Remus!" said Dumbledore, smiling politely. "Two days in a row, hm? What a pleasant occurrence. Come in, come in—I've only just made tea."

"I don't want any tea, sir," said Remus (a bit snippily, though he knew that it wasn't a good idea to be snippy towards a man who was both his headmaster and the most powerful wizard in the world). "I want to ask why you're forcing me to tutor Professor Craff's son! She already hates me!"

"I am not forcing you to do anything," said Dumbledore; despite Remus' accusatory tone, Dumbledore's voice as smooth and pleasant as ever. "You may quit anytime, of course."

"Well…" Remus wasn't sure what to say to that. "I do want to. I like tutoring. It's only... aren't there other kids?"

"Do you dislike Miles?"

"No! Of course not! He's brilliant. But Professor Craff doesn't like me."

"And what does that have to do with Miles?"

Remus crossed his arms. "You know exactly what that has to do with Miles, sir. She thinks I could hurt Miles, and she'll hate me even more now that I have constant close contact with him. I'm tutoring him once every two weeks! Professor Craff will hate me!"

Remus was practically seething, but Dumbledore only smiled. "Deep breaths, Remus."

"What?" Remus said, absolutely exploding at that. "You don't get to… you can't tell me… that's not fair! I'm perfectly calm!" Suddenly, he realized the ridiculousness of this statement. He nodded, his face quite red, and took a few deep breaths. In through his nose. Out through his mouth. Yes, he felt much calmer now. "Sorry," he whispered.

"Quite all right."

"I just… it's been hard enough, trying to get James to stop antagonizing Professor Craff… and I'm busy. I don't want all this on top of… all that."

"I know you're busy. You have three new electives, tutoring, a Bowtruckle, the Name-To-Be-Determined Club with Dilley, visits to Hogsmeade, your Arithmancy project, and Duelling Club sometime in the near future, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

"Your life is certainly changing a lot. I'm not surprised you're a bit worn thin. Is it too much?"

"No, sir," said Remus. "I need to stay busy."

"Yes," said Dumbledore sadly, "I quite imagine you do."

Dumbledore was trying to change the subject and make the conversation about Remus again, and Remus did not want that. "You haven't answered my question," he reminded Dumbledore. "I think I've a right to be upset about the situation with Miles."

"You absolutely do. I should have warned you, and I am deeply sorry for failing to do so—I would have made sure to say something if I hadn't thought you already knew." Dumbledore twirled his beard around his index finger for a few seconds, lost in thought, before continuing. "I'm afraid, Remus, that you are Miles' only option. No one else wants to tutor him, but he does need help."

"He seems very bright to me. Learns differently, that's all—like Peter."

"Yes, of course. He does have a problem with attention span, though, and he doesn't read very well. It's not his fault, and it certainly doesn't mean that he's less bright than his classmates. It is severe enough, however, that he would benefit more from one-on-one tutoring than from reading the textbooks himself. Usually, I ask the sixth- and seventh-years to tutor in subjects they specialize in, but Miles' case was different. He needs someone who will keep him engaged without intimidating him too much—you understand, then, why he is the only first-year available for you to tutor at the moment. He is the only one who will benefit from a single tutor in every subject."

"That still doesn't answer the question of why no one else wants to tutor him."

Dumbledore sighed. "I wouldn't be telling you this if I didn't already know that you won't discriminate, Remus."

Discriminate? "I… won't, obviously. I'm a werewolf, sir, so I would be quite the hypocrite if I did."

"I agree." Dumbledore stopped talking again, seeming to choose his words very carefully, before continuing. He was still twirling his beard a bit. "Miles' older brother was a Death Eater," he finally said. "A very well-known one, in fact—he killed and tortured a lot of people before he died in Azkaban. I am not surprised that you didn't recognize Miles' surname, because you have been very sheltered, and his brother was imprisoned a very long time ago… but many people do recognize it and tend to stay away. Unfortunately, many people whom I recruit for tutoring are extremely well-versed in magical history, both recent and ancient, and know all about the gruesome things that Miles' brother has done. His crimes were many, and each was more horrifying than the last."

"Oh," said Remus. "But Miles has friends, right? And no one… bullies him or anything?"

"It's mostly the older students who dislike him on the basis of his surname," said Dumbledore. "Some of the older students have lost relatives to Giles Rosenblum, and one of my most accomplished tutors has lost a parent. Miles' peers seem to accept him... though I often wonder what they're doing behind closed doors."

"Miles' brother's name was Giles? That's awfully similar to Miles' name."

"Yes, which makes it even harder for his classmates to see him as his own person. After the massacre last summer caused newfound fears amongst the students… well, you really are his only option, Remus."

"But… Professor… forgive me, but why doesn't he just go by his mother's surname? That might separate him from his brother a little more."

"I hesitate to tell you so much about his personal life, but that is a perfectly valid question, and I know that you of all people will not pity and will know how to keep a secret." Dumbledore sighed. "Miles' father is dead. Professor Craff remarried, and now Miles lives with his stepfather. Since Miles loved his father very much, I think it is difficult for him to leave behind the last remnant of him he has."

Remus nodded slowly. "That's awful. Yes, I suppose… I suppose I can help, then… have you already cleared it with Professor Craff?"

"It depends on what you mean by clear. She isn't happy, but she knows what is happening, and she will live."

Remus grimaced and fiddled with his gloves. "I don't understand why life has to be so complicated," he said.

"Ah," said Dumbledore, peering at Remus closely. "That, Remus, is a mystery that even the most successful wizards cannot decipher. Cup of tea?"

There was far too much milk in said cup of tea, but Remus accepted anyway.

AN: Underrated soundtrack from the Harry Potter movies: Gilderoy Lockhart! It's Hedwig's Theme, except changed slightly... which is undoubtedly a very Lockhart thing to do.