A necessary deception
Chapter 4: A Necessary Deception
Remus
Remus had spent the night wandering the castle, trying to process the impossible. His body was younger, his scars less prominent, but the weight of his years still clung to him. This was no ordinary transfiguration, no simple hex. Something far greater—far more dangerous—had altered his very being.
By dawn, exhaustion tugged at his limbs, but he knew he had no time to waste. If anyone could help him, it was Dumbledore.
Navigating the halls unseen had been second nature to him as a Marauder, but now it was different. He wasn’t sneaking around as a mischievous teenager; he was a man trapped in his own past. If any students saw him, they’d mistake him for one of their own, but the teachers wouldn’t be so easily fooled.
When he finally reached the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore’s office, he hesitated.
Would Dumbledore even believe him?
Taking a deep breath, he muttered, “Sherbet Lemon.”
The statue moved, and the spiral staircase revealed itself. His heart pounded as he ascended, every step bringing him closer to an uncertain future.
The office door was slightly ajar, as though Dumbledore had been expecting him. The headmaster sat behind his grand desk, blue eyes twinkling with the kind of quiet amusement that always made Remus feel like a particularly fascinating puzzle.
“Ah, Mr. Lupin,” Dumbledore greeted, as if he were addressing a student in trouble rather than a man who had somehow lost twenty years overnight. “Or would you prefer… Professor Lupin?”
Remus let out a shaky breath. “So you know?”
Dumbledore gestured toward the empty chair in front of him. “I make it my business to know when something extraordinary happens in my school.”
Remus sat down, rubbing his temples. “I don’t understand how this happened, but I can’t stay like this. I can’t teach like this.”
Dumbledore nodded solemnly. “No, I suppose that would raise a few too many questions. ‘Why has Professor Lupin suddenly become a student?’ being chief among them.”
Remus let out a tired chuckle. “Exactly. I need help, sir.”
Dumbledore steepled his fingers, considering. “There are a few options, but I believe the most practical solution is for you to assume a new identity—one that will allow you to remain at Hogwarts without suspicion.”
Remus blinked. “You want me to pretend to be a student?”
“Would you rather return to the outside world, where questions will be far more difficult to answer?” Dumbledore asked gently. “Here, you will be safe. You will have time to investigate what has happened to you. And most importantly… you will not be alone.”
The words struck a chord in Remus. He had spent most of his life feeling like an outsider. If he left now, he would be lost. Here, at least, he had a chance.
He exhaled slowly. “Alright. A student, then. Do you already have a plan?”
Dumbledore smiled. “I will arrange for a temporary substitute to cover your classes while we work on a longer-term solution. As for your new identity…” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a blank student record. “We must be careful. The name, age, and background must all be convincing.”
Remus hesitated. “I suppose… something simple. Something that won’t stand out.”
Dumbledore tapped his chin thoughtfully. “How about ‘William J.Moore’? A transfer student from a small, lesser-known magical school. That would explain why no one has heard of you before.”
Remus nodded slowly. “William Moore. That works.”
Dumbledore scribbled something on the parchment. “Fifth year, I assume? That would align with your current appearance.”
Remus swallowed. He had spent so much of his teenage years feeling out of place. The idea of returning to that time, even in disguise, made his stomach twist.
“Fifth year,” he confirmed quietly.
Dumbledore’s expression softened, as if sensing his unease. “I understand this will not be easy for you, Remus. But I believe it is the best course of action.”
After a moment, Remus nodded. “You’re right. Thank you, sir.”
Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “Now, there is one more person who must be informed—someone who will ensure your well-being during your time as a student.”
Remus didn’t have to ask. He already knew.
---
The hospital wing smelled of antiseptic potions and fresh linens, a scent that had become almost nostalgic for Remus over the years. He stood near the doorway, shifting uncomfortably as Madam Pomfrey bustled toward him, frowning.
“Alright, what is it now?” she asked briskly. “What trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?”
Remus bit his lip. “It’s… complicated.”
Madam Pomfrey narrowed her eyes. “Well, out with it, then.”
Dumbledore stepped forward. “Poppy, I’m afraid this is an unusual case.”
She crossed her arms. “When is it ever not an unusual case, Albus?”
Dumbledore chuckled. “Quite right. However, this is unique, even by our standards.”
He gestured toward Remus, who sighed. “I’ve… been hit with a curse. A powerful one. I’ve been—well, de-aged.”
Madam Pomfrey’s mouth opened slightly, then snapped shut. For the first time, she looked genuinely stunned. “De-aged?”
Remus nodded. “I don’t know how or why, but I’m physically fifteen again.”
There was a long silence before Madam Pomfrey pinched the bridge of her nose. “Merlin help me.”
“I take it you believe me?” Remus asked.
She shot him a pointed look. “Mr. Lupin, I’ve been patching you up since you were eleven. I know what you looked like at fifteen.” She sighed. “And I know that only you would end up in a mess like this.”
Remus smiled weakly. “That’s fair.”
Dumbledore cleared his throat. “Poppy, Remus will need your assistance in maintaining his condition while he is here. His monthly transformations will not change, and I imagine they will be just as difficult as ever.”
Madam Pomfrey’s stern expression softened. “Of course. I’ll make the necessary arrangements. But this is madness, Albus. He can’t seriously be expected to—”
“He will be taking on a new identity,” Dumbledore assured her. “He will be a student. It is the best way to keep him safe.”
Madam Pomfrey sighed. “Well, I suppose I’ll just have to treat you like all my other fifth years now.”
Remus smirked. “Does that mean I get extra chocolate after full moons?”
Madam Pomfrey huffed, but there was a glint of fondness in her eyes. “It means you’ll do as I say, William Moore.”
The name sounded foreign on her tongue, but it cemented the reality of the situation. He wasn’t Remus Lupin anymore.
He was William Moore, fifth-year transfer student.
And for now, that would have to be enough.