It was early in the morning, and the mist still lingered in the fields and over the river. The sun slowly rose, fighting its way through the thick grey clouds; the wind still slept, and the landscape looked absolutely peaceful. The village’s inhabitants lay in their beds; only one man was already up. He stood in his small bedroom, leaning over the small table and quickly scribbling down a letter.

After shortly rereading what he had put onto parchment, he attached it to the waiting post owl’s leg before carrying the bird and its burden to the window. The owl took off, and as soon as it had vanished in the distance, the man shut the window and went into the kitchen. With routine movements he set water to boil, added coffee powder into the mug, cragged two eggs for frying, and, in a last-minute decision, heated the oven, positioning the bread dough he had prepared the evening before onto the baking tray. Since the water would take some time to heat, he went into the adjoining room he called his library.

Grabbing an old book and taking it off one of the many shelves, Remus smiled upon seeing the title, Defence Against Dark Creatures. He’d never thought that he would ever use that book again. Lots of happy memories rose in a blur of colours as he sank into the nearest armchair. Making himself comfortable, he leaned back, crossed his feet at the ankles and laid the book on his lap, opening it right in the middle. He started reading a paragraph in the middle of the page, not caring that in the kitchen, the water got hotter and hotter until the first bubbles began dancing under the water’s surface. He still wore his pyjamas, not yet having changed clothes after hastily replying to Dumbledore’s offer that arrived really early that morning, the owl delivering the post constantly pecking against the window’s glass until he had awoken and got up.

Time ticked slowly by, and the sun rose centimetre by centimetre, its light finally winning the fight against the dark clouds. Light rays broke through the greyness that coloured the sky and dipped the world into purest yellow. Somewhere a rooster crowed, closely followed by another one. The repetitive sounds both roosters made finally pulled Remus out of the page he currently was reading, and with a frown, he closed the book. He cast a quick look at the clock hanging at the opposite wall; he had been reading for an hour already. He stood and stretched his tired limbs and muscles, inhaling deeply. Yet something wasn’t right. Sniffing the air with growing dread, he threw the book aside and quickly ran into the kitchen.

But he was already far too late; the water boiled happily in its pot, splashing all around over the pot’s rim, the eggs were completely burned and out of the oven black smoke slowly curled towards the ceiling where a huge dark cloud had already assembled. Remus swore under his breath and tore the window open to allow at least the smoke to drift off. Only then did he switch off both the oven and the cooker.

The water was still usable and so he made himself his regular morning coffee. While this was set to cool at least a bit, he occupied himself with looking after his bread. But one glance at his attempt in bakery told him there was no hope left: it was burned pitch black.

Sighing and with his stomach now growling in hunger, Remus instead opened the fridge to search for something else eatable.

The letter arrived around noon, and Remus quickly scribbled down an answer:

Catching the owl before it could fly off, he bound the parchment to its leg and threw the bird out of the window. It looked reproachfully back at the man, but gathered height and speed rapidly. After it had melted into the bright summer sky, Remus spent the rest of day emerged in books.

One after the other he took out his old Defence textbooks as well as the reference literature books he had either bought himself or received as presents from friends and family. He dusted them and carefully checked the old, yellowed pages were in not going to fall out after the twenty or so years of non-use. He thumbed through them roughly to get a general idea of what he would like to teach in each year, then piled them on the floor, sorted by general topic: jinxes, defensive curses, Dark Magic creatures…

He didn’t really know why he was doing it. With being what he was there was no possible way of him ever going to teach, and he just knew it. And, surely, no sane parent would want their child to be educated by a monster. However, he had always dreamed of going back to the ancient castle to pass on knowledge, to teach the younger generation. It would have been the chance of his life.

Would Dumbledore accept his refusal? he wondered. Probably not. So he better got prepared when he still had the time to do so.

Slowly the sun roamed across the light blue summer sky, and the clouds drifted away from the bright shining orb as if fearing they might burn to ash with the smallest contact. Time accompanied the sky’s lantern, and soon evening approached, colouring the azure blue to a romantic lilac, with the clouds painted in fluffy pink and rosé. All around the village, windows came to life when the lights were lit, and in the streets the lanterns flickered before throwing a steady circle of light around them.

Remus switched on the light, too, as soon as he could no longer read the books’ titles in the darkness of the little chamber library. So far he had stacked six different piles, each one as tall as his hip. He briefly wondered when he had gathered so many books without realising that he had them in the first place. He opened another one of his old school textbooks and a little folded piece of parchment glided towards the ground. He bent down, picked it up and moved to the light to read.

Or rather watch. It was one of his friend’s old doodles that could move. It showed a dog and a wolf wrestling with each other in a friendly way. The scene was set in a forest clearing, and above the trees, the full moon – although only a black and white pencil-drawn sketch – shone in its brightest light.

Smiling fondly at his newest recovery, he went to the old desk in the corner, took out a spare photo frame he had stored many months ago in one of the drawers, put the doodle into the frame and hung it up on the wall. He stood in front of it for some minutes, revelling in the memory of the day when that scene had taken place…

Remus stood for ten minutes in front of the picture, lost in reverie, but then he sighed and turned back to the task at hand. He sat down at the desk once more, opened another drawer to this time take out several sheets of parchment and started writing:

A violently tap tap interrupted his flow of thoughts and he looked up. On the outer windowsill sat the post owl again, another parchment tied to one of its legs. Remus grinned at Dumbledore’s persistence – he knew that the older man would never give up –, so he went to retrieve the message.

Remus sighed, crumbled the parchment in his fist and put them onto the windowsill. He leaned his forehead against the cool glass, looking up and out of the window. Night had fully fallen, and his eyes mirrored the brightly shining stars.

‘I can’t do this!’ he muttered more to himself than to anybody else, and the breath coming out of his mouth fogged the glass pane.

‘Let it be, Moony, Padfoot will not give in. And I have to agree with him. It’s your life. You can do whatever you want. You can do anything.’

With a second sigh Remus sat down at his desk once more and grabbed his quill. While he thought about what to write as a reply to Dumbledore, he looked around and met the owl’s exasperated glance. It had settled down comfortably on the armchair’s backrest and now clicked its beak warningly. Remus looked at the bird more closely and noticed it looked worn out.

‘Oh dear,’ he said apologetically, ‘I’m sorry for abusing your help. Would you like something to eat and drink to strengthen yourself again?’

Hooting gleefully, the owl flew over to Remus’ outstretched arm and allowed Remus to carry it into the kitchen. It was placed ceremoniously on a chair’s backrest, and while Remus searched for the stored owl cookies he knew he still had somewhere around, the watchful amber eyes followed his every move. Finally Remus found the box and gave it some water to help it gulp down the dry cookies.

During the owl’s evening meal, Remus sat in silence, pondering his decision. He thought about how much fun he had had in Hogwarts, what it had meant to him to have been allowed to actually go there.

And what it meant to him now that Dumbledore had offered him the post.

With the next morning’s brightening Remus had made his choice. He once again found himself sitting at his desk composing a letter to Professor Dumbledore.

He walked back into the kitchen where the owl had fallen asleep on the back of a chair. He woke the owl and tied the letter onto its leg. He then carried the owl to the door and after opening it, he sent the owl off with the letter that would forever change his life.

From that day on, he prepared his classes, wrote quizzes, made himself notes, read through his entire collection of books again, wrote some more quizzes, edited his notes, thought of homework assignments, decided on the books he would be working with, sent the list to Dumbledore to be put on the students’ letters and was generally really happy to be pulled out of his miserable moods.

On September first, he remembered that his old friend’s son was going to be among his students. He couldn’t believe he had not thought of it sooner. He smiled when a memory of Harry as a toddler playing ‘catch the snitch’ with James in the living-room surfaced. But the smile vanished as quickly as it had come. His old friend, Sirius, the person who was responsible for the death of James and Lily, had escaped the wizarding prison, Azkaban. He was most likely going after Harry to finally end his master’s intention of killing Harry. There was little doubt the boy was in danger.

Remus had been about to Apparate directly to Hogsmeade, when he realised that Sirius was possibly watching Harry right now waiting for his chance to kill him. Changing his mind. Remus decided to use the train instead and Apparated to King’s Cross Station.

‘I will protect your son, Prongs,’ he swore to himself while dragging his trunk through the lively crowd. ‘I will not let Sirius anywhere near him.’ This time, the wolf would defeat the dog, no matter what it took.

Even with these thoughts, he had a much happier heart than ever before. Remus John Lupin once again entered platform nine and three quarters, ready to begin a new term at Hogwarts.