Rosmerta set the trash out, humming the latest Celestina Warbeck song under her breath. It was late — the Three Broomsticks's late hours was a source of great annoyance for her, but she had another employee covering for her the next morning, so she'd be able to sleep in. As much as she loved her new job, a day never went by when she didn't think longingly of the short hours offered by her father's pawn shop. However, she'd known ever since leaving Hogwarts that she wanted to work at what had been her favorite pub as a student.
She straightened up and dusted her hands off. But as Rosmerta turned to go back in, she heard something moving in the shadows of the alley next to the Three Broomsticks. It sounded to her like something big. She took several steps into the alley, her hand going to her pocket, where she kept her wand, and called out, "Hello?"
She heard a muffled snarl coming from the alley, and then — so quickly that she barely had time to react — a giant wolf emerged from the shadows and lunged at her.
Rosmerta let out a little scream, turned, and flew out of the alleyway. However, she had only gone a meter before the heel of her right shoe snapped. She plummeted to the ground, and the wolf's next attack carried it right over her. Kicking off her shoes, Rosmerta scrambled to her feet and sprinted in the direction of the Three Broomstick's side entrance as the wolf regained its balance. She knew that she had no chance of getting there before the wolf caught up with her, but still she ran. She had only been running a few seconds when she heard the telltale pounding of heavy paws that meant that the wolf was gaining on her. Without pausing to think, she flung herself to the side. However as the wolf flew past her again she felt a searing pain in her left arm as one of its claws grazed her shoulder. Bleeding profusely, she whirled around and ran back toward the other end of the alley. Hearing the wolf gaining on her once again, and realizing that she wouldn't be able to keep going this fast for long, Rosmerta drew her wand and, pointing wildly over her shoulder, shouted "Impedimenta!"
The wolf gave a yelp. Rosmerta didn't look back, but her legs pumped even harder against the cobbled street. She had never been very good at magic, and she knew that her poorly performed Impediment Curse would probably only knock the wolf of its feet for a few moments. Surely enough, she had only reached the end of the alley before she heard the wolf's footsteps and ragged breathing again. This time, however, she didn't react quickly enough. When it flew toward her, she was knocked to the ground. Her head hit the cobblestones, and she blacked out.
The werewolf advanced upon its prey, snarling horribly. It wanted nothing more than to bite her, to feel her soft throat give way to its sharp fangs . . . but as it drew level with the young woman lying, unconscious, on the ground, it again felt that flicker of recognition. Its snarl died away, and it emitted a confused whimper. It sat there for several moments, its head to one side, almost as though trying to recall something. Then it put its muzzle under the shoulder of the stationary human, almost docilely, and pushed her onto her back. The strange feeling intensified. Her face seemed so familiar . . . it was as though she belonged to a dream that it had just barely forgotten.
It was then, when the werewolf's mind seemed almost human, that there came a shout. It looked up, and its head swivelled comically around, looking for the source of the noise. It had but a split second to register a figure with a long white beard before the man raised a wand. A beam of red light emerged from the end, hit the wolf squarely in the face, and it knew no more.
Remus woke up in the hospital wing the next morning, feeling as though he'd been hit all over with a troll's club the previous night. Groaning, he raised himself into a sitting position, the crisp white hospital wing sheets rustling around him. It took a full ten seconds for him to realize that he shouldn't have been in the hospital wing, not yet at least. The morning after a full moon Madam Pomfrey would always come through the underground tunnel to escort him back to the hospital wing, where a fresh set of robes and a potion to ease the various aches and pains following his transformation would be waiting for him. Now, however, he had no memory of having been anywhere since changing back, apart from here in the hospital wing. He put his palms over his eyes and strained to remember what had happened the previous night, but nothing came to him but vague images . . . a woman running on a cobbled street . . . a cracked window . . . the more he struggled to make sense of these pictures, the less clear they became. He pushed apart the curtains hanging around his bed with the intention of finding Madam Pomfrey, and found himself staring instead into the lined face of Albus Dumbledore.
Just one glance at Dumbledore's somber face told Remus that he had done something wrong. A few moments passed in silence. Remus opened his mouth to ask what had happened the previous night, but Dumbledore spoke first.
"Mr. Lupin, when you first came to Hogwarts I thought I had impressed upon you the seriousness of the threat your lycanthropy presents to the other the students here. I never claimed that the precautions I took to isolate you from any potential victims while you are in your werewolf form were foolproof, but never did I dream that you would fail to tell me at once if you found a flaw in my plan that could endanger the lives of any Hogwarts students or residents of Hogsmeade."
"Um . . . Professor?" Remus cut in timidly. Dumbledore nodded his head once, and Remus took it to mean that he could continue. "I don't exactly remember – what happened last night?"
And so Dumbledore explained how, late last night, a contact of his that lived in Hogsmeade – to whom he had explained the allowances that had been made for a student who unfortunately suffered from lycanthropy – had sent for him, having seen the werewolf heading toward the Three Brooomsticks. Once Dumbledore had reached Hogsmeade, he had been able to prevent Remus from doing serious damage to Rosmerta. After having Stunned the werewolf and modified Rosmerta's memory, he had headed to the Shrieking Shack, where he had discovered and sealed the gaping hole that remained of the Shack's attic window.
As he talked, Remus grew more and more ashamed. Before he had come to Hogwarts, just over two years ago, his father had given him a long lecture on how no other headmaster would have let him live at Hogwarts with his condition and how he must be very grateful to Dumbledore, take extra care not to get into trouble, and – above all else – adhere strictly to the rules set down for his own and other's safety. Although at the time Remus hadn't taken most of the lecture seriously, his father had gotten through to him the huge sacrifice Dumbledore was making in allowing him to attend Hogwarts. Ever since, Remus had treated Dumbledore with gratitude bordering on reverence, and had been his most ardent defender whenever a Slytherin criticized the way he ran the school. Therefore, Dumbledore's disappointment was something he could not bear.
"Sir, I hadn't realized that there was a window in the Shack. I just came upon it this last night." It pained Remus to lie to Dumbledore, but not so much as his disappointment would have pained him; that was something he could never live with.
Dumbledore gave him a searching look with those clear blue eyes; Remus lowered his own to the hard wood floor of the infirmary, certain that Dumbledore would read the truth in his expresssion.
"I shall give you the benefit of the doubt this time, Remus" – Remus looked back up – "but if anything of this nature should happen again, I will be left with no alternative but to expel you."
And with that, Dumbledore left the hospital wing. Remus lay back down against his pillow, his heartbeat slowly returning to normal. He thought about all he had done the previous night, and of Dumbledore's disappointment, and he felt a wave of remorse wash over him.
But still . . . despite all his little window had brought, he couldn't help but feel sad that it was gone.