Chapter 1
“Moony!”
This couldn’t be real; wouldn’t be real. Falling slowly to the table, the browning parchment stared up at Remus Lupin, taunting him with his history.
‘draco dormiens nunquam titillandus’
For years this motto at the forefront of Hogwarts’ legacy sat in the back of Remus’ mind— in what world would any sane person tickle a dragon?! Through maturing, he realised it was a play on words; a warning, if you will. Don’t tamper with things that can cause harm lest you want to be at the receiving end. A synonym of sorts would be ‘Let sleeping dogs lie’, and there was only one dog Remus wanted to stay lying. Only one dog that he wanted to forget about.
Only one dog whose past would haunt Remus if he agreed to this damned letter in front of him.
He re-read Dumbledore’s elegant script, half hoping the words would change:
Dear Remus,
I hope this letter finds you well. Hogwarts is in need of a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and I can think of no one more suited to the role than you. Your knowledge, experience, and dedication are qualities our students dearly need. I understand the concerns you may have, but rest assured, all precautions will be taken regarding your... condition.
I urge you to consider this opportunity, not just for your own sake, but for Harry’s as well. He needs you, Remus, now more than ever.
Yours sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Remus grimaced. The old man’s way with words always had and probably always would spur a sense of duty in Remus. They had since his schooldays. In third year when Dumbledore had asked him to keep a close eye on That Dog during the tough times at his home. In fifth year when the badge of honour was handed to him, the title of “Prefect” hanging ominously. In seventh year when Dumbledore implored Remus to join The Order.
After the Halloween night when all Remus had ever loved was ripped away from him and he was handed the little bundle, newly adorned with a lightning scar on his forehead. A constant reminder that his love—That Dog—had given the life of his ‘friends’ away.
How could he refuse when the boy he had sworn to protect was at stake?
Yet, the idea of returning to Hogwarts, the place of so many memories, both joyful and painful, filled him with dread. The ghosts of his past, the echoes of laughter in the corridors, the spectre of a friendship shattered by betrayal. And now, the shadow of Sirius Black loomed large, bringing all those buried fears to the surface.
“Helloooo... earth to Moony!”
Glancing up in shock, Remus stared into the face of his extraordinary ward—the living replica of James—who at this precise moment was staring on in confusion and worry.
“What’s that? Are we in trouble?” Harry’s voice trembled slightly, displacing the bravado he and every 13-year-old clung onto.
“Oh, nothing, just... bills. You know how I am—forgetting to pay on time.”
Remus forced a chuckle, not wanting to get Harry’s hopes up. Now was not the time.
Luckily for him, Harry accepted Remus’ story with a shrug, seemingly too focused on the honey dripping from his slightly cremated toast to realise that Remus had never once forgotten to pay anything on time.
“Well, as I was saying,” Harry continued to ramble, “Hermione said that Ron needs to...”
As Harry launched into his tale, Remus found comfort in the boy’s presence. The simple joys of Harry’s life were a stark contrast to the turmoil in his own heart. Harry was his anchor, his reason for pushing through the darkness.
Later that evening, after Harry had gone to bed, Remus sat by the fire, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the walls. He pulled out the letter again, staring at it long and hard.
Could he do this? Could he face his past and the looming threat of Sirius Black for the sake of Harry’s future? He had to. There was no other choice.
He would write to Dumbledore in the morning. He would accept the position. For Harry, he would face whatever came his way.