Despite the headmaster's assurance that everything had been prepared for Remus's arrival, he had no idea what to expect as the first full moon approached. He wondered where Dumbledore intended to have him locked away. The dungeons seemed the most likely option, though perhaps there was an unused tower with a room far above the dormitories, where his howls would fade away unnoticed on the night breeze. He spent all of Friday fretting over it, barely paying attention as Professor Slughorn explained the efficacy of curing boils with a simple tonic, or when Professor McGonagall lectured them on the Transfiguration Alphabet.

By Saturday afternoon, he had grown into quite a nervous wreck. The moon would not reach its fullest until the following evening, but his symptoms were growing worse with each passing hour. His transformation would begin that very night, he was certain.

The minutes kept ticking away. Once again, Remus could not bring himself to eat anything at dinner, so he returned to Gryffindor Tower to bide his time in anxious meditation. He didn't dare return to his dormitory, trusting that at any moment someone would come to collect him. Instead, he nestled into one of the armchairs in the common room. Each time the portrait that concealed the entrance to the common room swung open, he would turn his head to stare, only to turn away with disappointment when it revealed only a group of students returned from their evening repast.

From his chair, he could gaze out a nearby window at the evening sky. His heart raced as the bright blue horizon deepened first to orange, then pink, then a deep red glow. Had they forgotten about him? Perhaps they were not aware that he sometimes transformed the night before the full moon. What would he do if that were the case? Simply run away? Hide in the Forbidden Forest with the other beasts that were said to live there?

The common room had slowly filled with students. All around him were children chatting with their friends, studying their spellbooks, or playing wizard's chess. Remus tried to remain calm, pretending to read his mother's well-worn copy of Jane Eyre while he waited. He had just reached the passage where the titular character encountered Mr. Rochester for the first time.

… I heard a rush under the hedge, and close down by the hazel stems glided a great dog, whose black and white colour made him a distinct object against the trees.

It was exactly one mask of Bessie's Gytrash…

Remus felt a surge of recognition at this description of Mr. Rochester's faithful dog. A gytrash, indeed! He knew he had read of the creature in some Muggle novel or another. The words brought to mind the kindness shown to him by Professor Corvus. He had just resolved to close his book and seek her assistance, when the common room door swung open again, and Professor McGonagall swept into the room.

The spirits of his fellow students were immediately dampened. Professor McGonagall was not merely their head-of-house, but also the Deputy Headmistress. It was evident from the stares of the upperclassmen that a visit from the professor was uncommon. If she noticed anything amiss, however, she feigned not to notice, making her way deliberately toward Remus's hiding place.

He should have felt relief, but instead his face burned with embarrassment as he hastily put his book aside and rose to greet the professor.

"Mr. Lupin, might I have a word?" asked Professor McGonagall in a businesslike way.

He nodded wordlessly, and proceeded to follow her toward the common room entrance.

"Called out already?" hissed a voice behind his back. He turned his head, surprised to see James Potter sitting not far away. He was surrounded by cluster of students, among them Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. Potter flashed him a mocking smile before he added, "You'll have to tell me what you did to deserve it!"

Remus couldn't have replied to him if he wanted to. Professor McGonagall had stepped through the portrait hole and was waiting impatiently for him to follow. Remus dashed through the opening, his embarrassment mounting by the moment.

"I suppose you know why I'm here?" asked Professor McGonagall in an even tone as she led him down the steps toward the entrance hall.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then why are you late? Dumbledore must have explained the situation to you…"

"No, ma'am."

Professor McGonagall directed a startled look at him, but she quickly smoothed the expression away.

"An oversight, I'm sure. In future, you are to report to the Hospital Wing an hour before sunset. Madame Pomfrey will then escort you…"

"To the dungeons?" Remus interrupted.

For a moment, Professor McGonagall's expression softened. She slackened her brisk pace, and allowed him to fall into step beside her, rather than having him trail behind.

"No, Mr. Lupin. We do not lock our students in the dungeons at Hogwarts. We have prepared a location for you. It is far from the school, so you will not be disturbed. There are wards set around the perimeter. You will not be able to cross out of bounds while in your lupine form."

Remus flinched and looked around the halls. It was still early. She could have been overheard by a student straggling back to their common room. Fortunately, there was no one around to hear her comment. Remus breathed a little easier as she directed him out the front doors of the school, then across the grounds. She had said she was leading him far from the school, and for a moment Remus really believed they were going to the Forbidden Forest.

There came a faint scent of smoke, then he saw a small cottage set at the edge of the trees. A hazy grey tendril drifted from the chimney. Remus looked at the building dubiously, doubting whether such a modest dwelling could house him when he transformed, be there ever so many spells around it. But before they could draw closer to the hut and its bright windows, Professor McGonagall struck down another path, leading Remus to the very extremes of the school grounds, skirting along the edge of the forest, until they reached a twisted willow tree.

It looked old, but the dark earth beneath its gnarled roots seemed freshly tilled, as if it had been recently planted. Remus was about to continue forward, certain they had not yet reached the place designed as his monthly retreat. Professor McGonagall threw her arm in front of his chest, stalling his movement. He glanced up at her face, but her gaze was directed toward the tree.

The willow, which had been perfectly still moments before, was now thrashing its whip-like branches as if caught in a high wind. Remus could hear the eerie groan of creaking wood as the trunk of the tree itself bent toward him, the tendrils reaching out graspingly, desperate to wrap about him and toss him through the air.

"It's a Whomping Willow," Professor McGonagall explained, "A rare specimen. It was planted in preparation for your arrival."

Remus continued to gaze at the menacing plant with trepidation.

"I don't understand."

"It is planted over a passageway, Mr. Lupin."

For a moment, Remus still didn't comprehend what she was driving at. He watched carefully as Professor McGonagall drew her wand, and advised him to pay close attention.

"There may be times when I or Madame Pomfrey will be unable to escort you," she told him, "In which case, you will have to perform this spell, yourself."

She pointed her wand at the trashing branches and declared, "Immobilus!"

At once, the branches stopped their frenetic movement, and the tree became perfectly still. Professor McGonagall looked at Remus and asked, "Did you bring your wand?"

"N-No… I didn't…" Remus stammered.

Professor McGonagall's lips pressed into a thin line, though her tone remained unchanged as she said, "I know the term just began, but you ought to form a habit of carrying it with you. I would have liked to see you practice that charm, but no matter. You won't be needing your wand the rest of the night, I imagine."

As she spoke, a ray of sunlight fell across her face from behind the castle in the distance. She turned to face the reddening sky and frowned.

"We best push on. It will be nightfall soon."

She strode toward the immobilized tree, pointing out to Remus a particularly large knot on the trunk. When pressed, a sort of opening appeared within the tangled roots, revealing a short flight of rough stairs. Professor McGonagall preceded Remus lighting the end of her wand and illuminating a long, dark tunnel beneath the tree.

It felt cooler underground. Remus followed the professor in silence, wondering how far they would be walking. He could smell damp earth all around him, and wondered if the passage had been fortified with magic to prevent a cave in. He didn't like the feeling of being underground. It made him claustrophobic. He craved the open night air, the wind whistling in his ears and ruffling his fur...

"Um, Professor," he suddenly said, frightened that his own thoughts were starting to give way to the wolf's. "How much farther?"

"Not far now," replied McGonagall.

"Is… Is the room underground?" Remus asked tentatively, "Because I've tried hiding in cellars and stuff, but it doesn't help. I don't actually need to see the moon in order to transform…"

"You will not be underground, Mr. Lupin," Professor McGonagall announced. Her voice was followed by a dull wooden thud as she tapped her wand and against something just ahead.

"Ah! Here we are…"

She pushed up on the trapdoor, and at once their dark tunnel was filled with a dull gray light. Extinguishing her wand, Professor McGonagall climbed up a short ladder and stepped aside, awaiting Remus to join her. He pulled himself upward, then gazed around at what appeared to be the interior of a very quaint, very comfortable house. The lights were off, giving it an eerie, haunted feeling, but otherwise it looked to be just like any other home. There was a carpet laid out in the hall where the trapdoor was hidden, stopping just short of the entrance. He could see through an open archway into a sort of sitting room beyond, which was furnished with a sofa, two armchairs, and a table, all draped in clean white linen. To his right, a set of stairs led up into bedrooms beyond. Then he realized the windows had been boarded over. As he stepped toward them, he could see runes and sigils carved into the back of the wood. They thrummed with magical energy that Remus felt, even in his human form.

"So this is…"

"The house has been empty for years," Professor McGonagall explained. "Locals have no reason to venture near. You'll have the whole space to yourself…"

"Hold on," Remus interrupted, "Locals? I thought you said this place would be far away…"

"It is far from Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall specified, "That passageway leads to Hogsmeade, a village a few miles distant from the school. Though as I said, no one will venture near this house."

"I'll howl," Remus warned, "I'll growl and cry and make lots of noise. It's always like that. If people hear me…"

"They'll wonder what's causing so much commotion in a house that has been empty for several years," Professor McGonagall finished, "And since Professor Dumbledore has industriously been spreading gossip that this place is infected by a particularly nasty poltergeist, it will only serve to keep people away most effectively."

There was nothing more to argue. Remus had what he needed. A place to be alone, where he wouldn't hurt others. Already he could feel the pull on the back of his neck. A shiver ran up and down the length of his spine, tickling a phantom tail that had not yet grown into place. He began to wonder why Professor McGonagall was still there, when she announced, "I will return for you in the morning. There is a closet upstairs where you can store your robes, if you like."

And without waiting for him to respond, she was gone. Vanished through the trapdoor and out of sight. Remus paused for a moment, staring at the seemingly smooth wooden floor. Then he knelt down and dug his fingernails between the boards, testing the hidden entry. It didn't budge. Either he couldn't get a firm handhold, or it had been locked on the other side.

He climbed to his feet again, then stumbled. He felt a sharp pain from behind his navel, a sure sign that the transformation was about to begin. Fighting it off a bit longer, he made his way toward the stairs, shuffling up them as fast as he could while doubled over. He wasn't sure which closet had been indicated by the professor, but he supposed the whole house was his. He picked a bedroom at random, and hastily disrobed.

He placed his folded clothes in a heap inside one of the closets and shut the door. Then he stood, naked and shivering, in the middle of the room. It was cold. The house had no fires lit, and there didn't seem to be any artificial heat through the empty rooms.

He was considering inspecting the large bed that rested heavily nearby, curious to know if there was a warm blanket hidden beneath yet another white cloth, when the pain in his stomach suddenly doubled. He fell to his knees, gasping from the effort of holding back his transformation. Already the hands that grasped against the threadbare carpet were lengthening, the nails hardening and sharpening into claws. He could feel the bones of his face cracking and reforming, shaping themselves into a long snout. His spine lengthened, and the tail he had been missing before sprang free, bursting forth in a mass of brown and gray fur. As his large back paws dug into the wooden floor beneath him, he lifted his face, his jaws splitting wide to reveal glistening white fangs. The wolf howled, a wordless cry ripping through the night, unheard by anyone but the boy who wept alone inside the beast.