Polaris hooted in a rather dignified manner and extended his leg to Remus. There was a message tied to it. Remus took it off, recognizing the usual green ink and the Hogwarts seal stamped on the outside. From Dumbledore, most likely, but he had never been much of one for pomp and circumstance. Frowning, Remus slid the letter out of the envelope.
Dear Mr. Lupin,
You are being considered for the post of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. Please report to Hogwarts as soon as possible for the interview process.
Yours sincerely,
Professor M. McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Remus stared at it and began to laugh. Somebody’s odd idea of a joke, perhaps. He was probably the last person most parents would want teaching their children. Still, he had nothing else to do, so perhaps visiting Hogwarts wouldn’t be a bad idea.
After all . . . Dumbledore might have news about Sirius.
****
“Ah, Remus. I’ve been expecting you.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled with his usual good humor and he motioned for Remus to sit down. “I see you got Professor McGonagall’s letter.”
Remus thudded into a seat. “You mean this is for real?” he asked.
“Is it that hard to believe?” Dumbledore asked.
“Yes,” Remus replied flatly.
Dumbledore smiled. “Tea, Remus?”
“Please.” Remus waited while Dumbledore poured him a mug of tea, then took a tenative sip. “Why me?”
“There are any number of reasons, Remus,” Dumbledore said. “To begin with, you’re fully qualified for the position, and there certainly aren’t many people vying for it. You have a great deal of experience in the subject.”
Remus sighed. “Not for years.”
“I’m sure it’ll come back to you. After all, you were one of the top students in your class. Dark Arts was one of your best subjects.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m qualified to teach it,” Remus protested.
“But I believe you are,” Dumbledore said. “And believe me, you can’t do worse than the one we had last year.” He gave an amused grimace. “It simply isn’t possible.”
Remus sighed. “What are the other reasons?”
“Well, as to the second, there’s a mirror on the other side of the room,” Dumbledore said, waving his hand at it. “And if you go look in it, you might understand.”
Remus gave him a tired look. “I know how I look.”
“But do you know how you appear to others?” Dumbledore asked gently. “Remus, I’m sorry to say this, but you’re in terrible shape. When was the last time you even left your apartment?”
Remus shrugged.
“I know for a fact that you’ve been out of work for almost two years at this point. Frankly, I’m not sure how you’re even surviving, let alone paying for an apartment.”
Remus shifted guiltily. “Allister helps,” he admitted. “He says that . . . that Sirius would have wanted him to.”
“You must hate accepting charity,” Dumbledore said.
Remus flinched. “When you phrase it that way, yes.”
Dumbledore sighed. “That does bring me to my third reason.”
Remus flinched even more. “This is about Sirius.”
“I won’t deny that is, in some part, true,” Dumbledore said. “Though I don’t believe my previous reasons are lessened by it. I was actually considering you for the job last year as well, but certain factors convinced me that the time was not right. This year the time is right. I would like you here.”
“What does Sirius have to do with this?” Remus pressed.
Dumbledore looked at him steadily. “We have reasons to believe Sirius may come after Harry.”
Remus looked at him blankly for a long second. “Harry . . . Harry’s here?”
“You really have lost track of time, haven’t you,” Dumbledore said thoughtfully. “Yes, Harry attends school here. He’s thirteen now, Remus. You would be teaching him.”
Remus was momentarily overwhelmed by this. Time had very little meaning as he bounced from one job to another. Every day, every week, every month seemed exactly the same. If Dumbledore said ten years had passed, he would have believed him. He also would have believed twenty. He simply had no idea. “Why would Sirius go after Harry?” he asked, collecting himself.
“Harry was Voldemort’s downfall,” Dumbledore said simply.
“So why do you want me here?” Remus asked, frowning.
Dumbledore paused. “You, too, might be a target of Sirius’. I would prefer to avoid that eventuality.”
Remus considered this for a long minute. “You think I might help him, don’t you,” he finally said.
Dumbledore laughed. “Help him? Remus, if I suspected you of complicity, the last place I would want you would be within these walls. Here, we are safe, and so is Harry. If I suspected for a moment you might help Sirius, I would probably have attempted to find a way to get you as far from here as possible. No, Remus, I want you here because it will be safer for you to be here. And also because I believe you will protect Harry with your life.”
“I will,” Remus said softly. Then he sighed. “But I can’t accept the job.”
“There are other benefits for you, as well,” Dumbledore said.
“It doesn’t matter,” Remus said. “I can’t. Have you forgotten that I’m a werewolf?”
“It’s not in my nature to forget such large details,” Dumbledore said, obviously amused. “But if you hid it for the seven years you attended school here, I see no reason why it would be impossible to hide it for longer. That also brings me to my next point of persuasion. You’ve heard, I assume, of the Wolfsbane Potion?”
“Of course I have,” Remus replied.
“You would be able to have a regular supply of that while you were here,” Dumbledore said. “So even if your secret was perchance discovered, there would be no danger posed to the children.”
Remus hesitated. That alone was enough to make him leap at the chance; he’d been wanting to get his hands on Wolfsbane Potion ever since it had been discovered. Unfortunately, it was quite expensive, as it was very difficult to make. Hardly something that he could afford on his meager budget.
“I don’t know . . .” he said hesitantly.
Dumbledore smiled. “Now, I’ve already managed to convince the rest of the staff. Don’t let me down, Remus.”
“They don’t want me here,” Remus stated flatly.
“Some of them were a bit apprehensive about it, this is true,” Dumbledore said. “Snape in particular.”
Remus’ head snapped up. “Snape teaches here?”
Dumbledore nodded. “He’s the Potions Master.”
Remus weighed the benefits of the job against another year with Snape. “No. I won’t do it then.”
Dumbledore gave him a look. “He won’t give you any trouble. You’re both adults now.”
“Yes, and if you try to convince me that Snape is one bit less vindictive, I won’t believe you for a millisecond,” Remus retorted. “He hates me. He always has. I won’t work with him. Especially not when I know he’s going to spend every free second he has talking about how they’re going to catch Sirius and dangling in my face that the man I love is in jail for life and -- ” Remus cut off abruptly.
“Remus,” Dumbledore said quietly, “he won’t do that. He knows better.”
“Oh?” Remus asked bitterly. “I wish I could believe that. But then again, you’ve always held a somewhat higher opinion of Snape than I have.”
“If Severus Snape is nothing else, he is an honorable man,” Dumbledore said. “And he is not a stupid one. He will not bring up Sirius around you, if only because he won’t want to try to explain the black eye to his classes.”
Remus managed a weak chuckle.
“Many of us are worried about you, Remus,” Dumbledore said. “Myself not least of all. The years have been very hard on you. I don’t think it’s good for you to be hiding up in your apartment with no idea of how much time goes by. You need to move on. I realize this is the wrong time to be telling you this, what with Sirius’ recent escape, but that doesn’t make it any less true.”
Remus sighed heavily. “All right. I’ll take the job. I don’t promise anything about moving on. But . . . I would like to see Harry.”
Dumbledore relaxed. “Good. I’ll see that your room is prepared. Term starts on September first.”
“I’ll come on the train,” Remus said. “I shudder to think of trying to use Floo Powder with any luggage, and . . . I’d really rather not fly.” His fear of heights had only gotten worse after Sirius had left. Without Sirius dragging him around on the motorcycle, Remus had never had reason to fly again.
“All right. I’ll send you a ticket.”
Remus stood up. “What’s being done about Sirius?” he asked quietly.
“The Ministry is all over it, of course,” Dumbledore said. “And there are going to be dementors stationed here during the school year.”
Remus couldn’t hold back a shudder.
“I’m not pleased about it either,” Dumbledore added.
“I’ll make sure I bring plenty of chocolate,” Remus said dryly.
“I’ll see you in September, then.”
“Yeah,” Remus said with a sigh. “See you then.”
****
Remus somehow managed to survive the three weeks until the term started, mostly in the same manner he had survived the preceding twelve years. Unfortunately, he was too keyed up to get much sleep, so by the time he made it to the train, he was exhausted. He found an empty compartment and went to sleep.
He woke abruptly when there was a burst of noise to find that the train was dark and immobile. Frowning, he tried to think, but couldn’t through all the noise.
“Quiet!” he ordered irritably. Everyone fell silent. He managed to straighten himself out and light some flames to see by. He scanned the faces around him and nearly fell flat on his face at seeing what looked like a miniature James with green eyes. He knew it had to be Harry, but he had more important things to be worried about. “Stay where you are,” he said, and moved towards the front of the compartment.
Just before he reached it, the door opened and a dementor slid inside.
The compartment seemed to dim before his eyes . . . he felt so cold . . .
“Sirius, you broke your promise . . . you left me alone . . .”
The world seemed to be disappearing into fog, his limbs felt heavy and immobile. Nothing seemed to matter any more.
“Sirius would never . . . he wouldn’t . . .”
He felt as thought he were drowning in the cold.
“Sirius . . . Sirius! SIRIUS!”
Remus shook himself angrily. He was being pathetic, and he knew it. He knew how to deal with dementors, even though he’d never encountered one. He glared at it and said, “None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.”
But the dementor didn’t move.
Feeling even more angry, Remus summoned up his Patronus. He was rather glad that doing so got easier with time; if he’d had to focus on a happy memory at the moment, he didn’t give much for his chances. However, the dementor turned and glided out as silently as it had come.
Remus turned to see, with some concern, that Harry had fallen to the floor. After making sure that he was all right and distributing some chocolate, he offered an excuse that he didn’t even hear and escaped the compartment.
He found Polaris and sent him ahead to say that Harry had been ill. Couldn’t be too safe, after all. Then he leaned against the wall in the tiny space between compartments, where no one was likely to find him, and spent a few minutes gathering himself together.
So that’s what’s been guarding Sirius all these years, he thought with a shiver. No wonder most people in Azkaban go mad . . .
He forced himself to pull it together and went back into the compartment. No one had touched their chocolate, which didn’t surprise him. He didn’t feel like eating the portion he was entitled to, either. Still, he forced some of it down, and was glad when they reached Hogwarts.
He sat through the Sorting, trying not to look as tired as he was. Then he nearly started to laugh as Dumbledore introduced him. “First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”
Kindly consented is right, Remus thought, amused at the half-hearted applause. Harry was clapping, though, and that made him feel slightly better.
Snape, naturally, was looking at him with a familiar expression on his face. Apparently, the twelve years of separation hadn’t done much for Snape’s opinion of him. The feast was long but painless. Remus allowed himself to drift through it.
It seemed like only moments had gone by (and Remus realized, somewhat chagrined, that he had eaten about five plates of food without thinking about it) when the feast ended. His things had already been brought to his room, so he got up to go.
He walked directly into Snape, but fortunately managed to stop before actually colliding with the other man. “Severus,” he said quietly.
“I don’t approve of you being here.” Snape was, as always, cold and to the point. “I told Dumbledore that this is a big mistake. Probably won’t be long before Black comes in and murders us all, will it.”
Remus took a few deep breaths. “Severus,” he said, trying to stay calm, “I am not going to let Sirius into the castle. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t spread that rumor.”
Snape’s eyebrow twitched in a manner that Remus was rather familiar with. Sirius had always made fun of Snape for having an angry twitch. “I will not spread any rumors about you,” he said bitterly. “I value my position here a little too much for that.”
Remus raised his eyebrows, realizing that Dumbledore had forbidden Snape from telling the students anything about him. “Well. That’s good to hear. And I’d also appreciate it if you don’t bring it up around me. I have not spoken to Sirius since his escape, and I have no idea where he is. So please don’t implicate me in anything I haven’t been a part of.”
He turned to walk away.
“No one wants you here, you know,” Snape called after him. “None of the staff does. Dumbledore made the decision by himself.”
Remus turned back. “You know what, Snape? I don’t want to be here either. I was perfectly all right with living in my cocoon of misery back in London. But if Dumbledore wants me here, I’m respecting that, and you damn well can too.”
He walked off before Snape could say another word.
****
Life at Hogwarts was not as bad as Remus had assumed it would be. Though it was true that just being there brought back all sorts of memories he would have prefered to leave buried, he found himself almost enjoying himself for the first time in years.
Dumbledore seemed rather pleased with his progress. Remus couldn’t really help but be pleased himself. He felt alive again.
Of course, the staff was still treating him with severe apprehension. Snape continued to insult him whenever they came within earshot of each other. Most of the Slytherins weren’t fond of him either. Even Peeves made sport of him.
However, most of the children adored him, and for Remus, that was enough. It felt very odd to be good at something.
He even managed to get his revenge on Snape, in his own way. Snape obviously hated Harry, which didn’t surprise Remus in the slightest. Part of him itched to tell Harry the real reason, but that was really nothing Harry needed to know. Or, for that matter, anything he really wanted to talk about.
The boggart Snape in old lady’s clothing was Remus’ revenge for seven years of torment at Snape’s hands. Snape sulked for weeks, and Remus loved every second of it.
When Snape confronted him about it, Remus only had one thing to say.
“You know, Severus, I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you. If you didn’t torment poor Neville so much, the boggart never would have turned into you in the first place. So stop blaming me for your problems.”
He knew it wasn’t exactly wise of him to do such things to Snape, given that he depended on the Potions Master for the Wolfsbane. But after that first time, he never did anything again.
A conversation with Harry over tea left him feeling his best yet. Though he still wasn’t happy by any means, he found that the ache inside was easier to bear.
Maybe Dumbledore had been right all along, about how locking himself in his apartment hadn’t been good for him.
By Halloween, he was downright cheerful. And that, of course, was when Sirius decided to pay a visit.
He had just left the feast when word of Sirius’ attempt forced entry into Gryffindor tower reached him. He joined in the search, trying not to think about the fact that he could easily have run into Sirius. Could easily have seen him again. Could easily have been killed by him, he supposed.
Remus didn’t think. He merely helped search the castle. Everyone was safe; that was a relief. But when he saw the painting where the entrance to Gryffindor was, he felt his stomach lurch. That Sirius was that violent . . . that desperate . . .
He tried not to think about it. Tried to ignore it. Tried to pretend that none of it was happening.
The castle was empty. The students were staying in the Great Hall, but the teachers were allowed to return to their rooms.
Remus shut his door behind him and leaned against it for a few minutes, glad to be in private at least. He waved at the fireplace with his wand, igniting the magic-sensitive wood. Then he lit the lamps and sat down. He had papers to grade, his least favorite part of being a teacher, and he supposed he ought to get to it.
He stopped.
There was something sitting on his desk.
Frowning, he reached out and picked it up. There was no note. Nothing to indicate who it was from, which meant it could only be from one person.
Remus brought it into the lamplight and stared. Sitting in his palm was a small wooden statue of a wolf standing on a pedestal.
He turned it over.
Carved on the bottom, in neat letters, were the words, “Love, Sirius.”
****
Part Six
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