Two men with long silvery hair stood either side of the desk in the cluttered study. The clutter in the study could be accounted for by the innumerable piles of cardboard boxes in various states of unpacking which were placed, at apparently random intervals throughout the room. From one of the boxes came a sound not unlike the cuckoo of a Swiss clock. From another, mustard coloured steam poured out of the seams and yet, another box appeared to be edging its way along the floor of the office to the door and the freedom that lay beyond. On a perch that stood near one of the walls sat a magnificent bird with a scarlet body and golden tail. The bird was watching the escaping box in a manner of one who has seen many interesting things in their life and was not amused by this foolhardiness. The new owner of the office could have had it all unpacked by now, had he decided to use magic, but he had come to the conclusion that he would have less time to be apprehensive about the extent of his new job if he did it the Muggle way. Judging by the disgruntled mutterings of the various portraits that adorned the walls, he was also quite enjoying irritating the previous owners of the office.

“More new toys Albus?” said one of the men by the desk, surveying the boxes around him. “This will soon become the office of curiosities.”

“Yes,” responded the second man, whose name was Albus, “I expect it will.”

The first man hovered for a moment as though he had something else to say but was unsure of the best way to say it.

“I am aware that given that you are still head and I was only your deputy and that I am now leaving, there is nothing that I can do to force you on this issue.” When Albus made no response he continued, “I know it seems unfair on the child, but consider all of the other children you will educate here; you cannot subject them to this danger. Sometimes you just have to consider the greater good.”

“Precautions have been taken,” Albus replied.

“So I’ve seen, and if you think the Whomping Willow is going to stop children going down that passage then you have definitely underestimated your security.”

“I was not going to inform the school that there was a passage for fear that it might arouse their curiosity.”

“I have been a teacher for over thirty years and your deputy for ten; I am telling you that something will go wrong. Either he won’t get to the house fast enough or he’ll get out once he’s transformed or even another student will become curious about the new exotic plant that you’ve brought in. I scarcely need to remind you that people died last time half-breeds were allowed into Hogwarts.”

“No Myles, you don’t,” Albus said calmly, “I can only reiterate that precautions have been taken. I have met Remus and he understands the gravity of his situation. He does not wish to do anything that may harm his fellow students. Anyway, this was entirely my decision, and it will be entirely my responsibility if it goes wrong, so you have nothing to worry about.” He turned away and started to arrange books in the bookcase as though he considered the discussion to be over. Myles, it seemed, was not so easily swayed.

“Has it occurred to you that the boy may be happier with his own kind? I have heard that there is a pack on the Isle of Skye, maybe if his parents took him there...” he paused, cut short by the look that Albus was giving him.

“Remus has magical ability and therefore we are his own kind as well. The governors’ agree with me.”

“Yes,” said Myles, “I was wondering how you managed to get this past them.” He sighed, clearly considering the argument lost. “Well, as you say, this is your decision and your responsibility Headmaster. I shall go and enjoy my retirement and at last have time to devote to my garden.”

Albus smiled, his whole face lighting up as he surveyed the old teacher. “You and I both know that your garden will be thoroughly neglected as you will be too busy answering all of the owls I will send you begging for advise.”

Myles laughed. “I shall miss this place you know, despite all it’s put me through. Have you found a replacement for me yet?”

“Yes, Filius Flitwick has kindly agreed to take up your position as both Charms Professor and head of Ravenclaw house.

“It must have made the whole interview process seem a bit pointless once he applied. The school couldn’t have wished for someone more gifted in charms. He’s written half the books in the library on the subject.”

“I agree completely. I was delighted he felt able to give up his duelling coaching to come and teach here. Minerva McGonagall is to become my new deputy, but I imagine you have heard that.”

“I hadn’t actually, but now you’ve said it, I cannot think of anyone else more suited to the role.”

“I shall leave you to finish unpacking whatever new toys you had purchased this time. Joking aside, Albus, if you ever want any advice, I would be delighted to give it. Even if I know it will not always be taken. If not I would like to be kept informed of the events happening in the school, if you have time.”

“I shall write you a report every week,” promised Albus, “you have put so much into this school that I completely understand why you have no wish to lose touch.”

Myles thanked Albus and started to walk towards the door of the office. When he reached it, he turned and said, “Albus?

“Yes.”

“I hope that you are right about the werewolf.” Then he took leave of Hogwarts for the final time.

Professor Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, turned back to ordering his books. He sighed, his niggling doubts had not been helped by Myles Poyser’s concerns, as much as he told himself that his old deputy was prejudice against half breeds, he could not help but think that he also did have over thirty years experience and there was the incident with the Chamber of Secrets. Not that Dumbledore was convinced that it was Hagrid that had opened it, but there was no denying that the gamekeeper did have an unfortunate liking for dangerous beasts. That was unfair; Hagrid’s obsession was not even common to all half giants, let alone all half breeds. Dumbledore thought back to his visit to the Lupin house. As headmaster it was not a visit he should have had to make, he could have sent Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher and his new deputy, but it had seemed important to him to go and see what the child was like.

The house was tiny, set on two floors. It consisted of four rooms: a sitting room and a kitchen on the ground floor and two bedrooms on the first floor. It was also isolated; during the Black Death, a decision had been made by the residents of the village to move from the valley that they inhabited, up to one of the hills above the valley a few miles away. A few families had remained: those already with the plague or those who simply did not wish to leave all that they knew. Over the seven hundred years that had passed, many more families moved away, either to the main village, or to the new industrial towns hoping to make money there now that much of the agricultural work had been taken over by machines. All that remained of the old village was the church and one cottage. When the last owner of the cottage had died, and his son had decided to sell it, rather than live such an isolated life, Caelan Lupin had scraped together what little money he could find or beg from better-off families and friends and had moved away from the wizarding world that had rejected his son for a problem that he could not help. Whilst the occasional Muggle did visit the valley to see the old plague church, with the aid of Muggle repelling charms, none ventured so far as the cottage or the woods beyond. Gifted as Mr Lupin was at Charms, he had managed to put various magical barriers around the local woods so that his son, in his wolf state, could not leave the confines of the part of the wood that his father had chosen for this purpose. It had been a hard life for both father and son, his Muggle wife, unable to bear what her son had become, had left him abruptly one night and had not returned. Mr Lupin had struggled to hold down a job in both the wizarding and the Muggle world, since he needed so much time off to care for his son, so his all of his meagre finances had been stretched to breaking point.

Several years ago, when Remus had started to show some magical ability, Caelan Lupin had considered writing to Professor Dumbledore asking if there was any hope of his son attending Hogwarts. But fearing that definite rejection would only worsen his son’s opinion of himself, he had desided against it. Mr Lupin had resigned himself to home schooling his son. It came as a surprise therefore to find, shortly before Remus’ eleventh birthday, his old Transfiguration teacher outside of his cottage. For a couple of weeks now, Mr Lupin had had a job in a nearby farm sticking labels onto plastic milk bottles. It was dull work for someone as intelligent as Mr Lupin and it was only for a few hours a week, but the farmer’s son was in hospital with leukaemia so she was more sympathetic about his need to care for Remus that any of his previous employers had been. He first saw Professor Dumbledore as he walked back one afternoon mentally planning what to have for lunch. Even without the Muggle repelling charm there was no mistaking the teacher for a Muggle; he wore a midnight blue robe and a large crocked wizard’s hat.

“Hello Caelan,” said Professor Dumbledore, “what a delightful house you have.”

“Um hello, Professor,” replied Mr Lupin wondering what could possibly have brought this man calling.

“Could we perhaps step inside?” said Dumbledore, “there is a matter that I would like to discuss with you and your son, if he is about.”

Mr Lupin nodded and opened up the door of the cottage. It lead to a narrow hallway with a flight of stairs directly ahead and two worn doors: one on the left and one on the right. Mr Lupin ushered Dumbledore in through the right hand door to the sitting room, where a young pale looking boy was sitting on the sofa reading a book. He looked ill, and this gave him the air of being older that his ten years.

“Hello, you must be Remus,” said Dumbledore. Remus nodded and sent a questioning look in his father’s direction as he had followed Dumbledore into the room.

“This is Professor Dumbledore; he was my Transfiguration teacher at school. He said he had something that he wished to discuss with us.”

“Yes I have,” said Dumbledore “I don’t know if you are aware of this, but Professor Dippet has retired and I am now Headmaster of Hogwarts.” Mr Lupin nodded his head and Dumbledore continued, “I am here to talk to you about Remus’ education.”

“It is very kind of you to come all this way Professor,” said Mr Lupin, “but I am well aware why it would be impossible for Hogwarts to educate Remus.” He smiled. “I have even started planning the lessons I intend to give him, haven’t I son?”

Remus smiled back at his father and with just that change in expression Dumbledore was able to see a remarkable transformation. The child still looked pale and ill, but the cheerful expression at least made him look more childlike, and the look between father and son showed that there was a great deal of love between the two. “Yes,” he responded, and turning to Dumbledore he added, “He talks about them all the time, he has them all planned right up to my seventh year. I keep telling him we should go to Diagon Alley and get my wand so we can just start; he’s obviously bursting to teach me.”

“In that case what I have to say may come as a blow to you, Caelan. I would like to offer Remus a place at Hogwarts. Obviously if you still wish to educate him at home there is nothing to stop you.”

Mr Lupin seemed to have lost the power of speech for a moment; he stared at Dumbledore as though he could not quite comprehend what his old teacher was saying. Eventually he managed to utter a sentence, “Are you aware that Remus is…” he paused.

“A victim of lycanthropy? Yes. Nevertheless, I see no reason why he should be deprived of the choice, with a few extra precautions. Remus should be able to study with his peers.”

Again Mr Lupin seemed lost for words and it was Remus who asked, “What extra precautions, sir?”

“The school has recently come into possession of a house in the village of Hogsmeade. I propose that a passage could be built from the grounds to this house and that once a month you could go there to transform.”

“But sir,” said Remus, “What if some of the other children were to go down that passage? I can’t control myself when I’m transformed.”

“I intend to hide the passage,” replied Dumbledore calmly, “I believe the Whomping Willow will keep even the most inquisitive away. I also do not intend to tell other students about the passage, if you were to come to Hogwarts, I would appreciate it if you would keep this quiet as well.” He pulled out from a pocket in his robes an envelope and he handed it to Remus. “I understand that you will wish to talk this over alone with you father. Although we do not normally ask students to confirm their place until the end of July it would be helpful, given the extra arrangements that have to be made, if you could confirm yours before the end of January.”

Mr Lupin, who had appeared to have, by this stage, recovered the ability to speak, invited Dumbledore to stay for lunch but he refused, stating that he had other business elsewhere to attend to.

Several months later back in his office Dumbledore came to the conclusion that it was Remus’ concern for his fellow pupils that satisfied him that he was doing the right thing.