Of course it was impossible for me to go to Hogwarts. Everyone said so. At least, Mum and Dad seemed to think so. And since both my parents were set in the belief that I was not going to that renowned magical school, I (reluctantly) started to believe it as well.
I often wondered whom it hurt more: them or me. It wasn’t my fault, I’d often tell myself in the confines of my room as I watched the moon hovering in its dusty black mantle. Dad was the one who had offended Greyback. But they’d never told me anything besides that. I didn’t know how he had offended the werewolf, whether it was a selfish act or a noble one. All I knew was that I was the one who paid the price.
Oh yes, I was bitter. I was bitter that I would never see the towering turrets of Hogwarts School, never glimpse the giant squid’s quavering form under the water, never wield a wand and feel the magic pulsing in my fingertips.
We never expected the letter, so when it came, we were utterly flabbergasted.
Our ancient owl, Methuselah, delivered it. At first, we all thought it was a letter from my Aunt Juniper regarding her birthday celebration later that summer. However, the second after Methuselah fluttered in and lay panting on the kitchen table, a cry rose from Mum’s throat.
“It’s a letter to Remus from Hogwarts!” she cried as she flailed the envelope in the air, making me wince at the noise before the words soaked their meaning into me.
“I”I what?” I gasped, toppling my cup of pumpkin juice. I couldn’t believe it. Was this real? Excitement was bubbling in me as Mum ripped the envelope open. Sure enough, it was an authentic letter with an official signature at the bottom.
The sound of my father’s hurried footsteps broke my chaotically joyful muses. He took the letter from Mum’s hands and I could see his eyes whizzing back and forth as he read it.
I half-expected what his reaction would be. “This isn’t going to work.” His mouth was spread in its usual line. Mum tried to say something, but he cut her off. “How is Dumbledore going to house a werewolf, Miranda? He’s out of his mind. There’s no way that Remus is going to be able to go to Hogwarts. Dumbledore is clearly ignorant of the harm a single werewolf can cause.”
My heart sank. Dad was almost always right. The reality of what he said hit my chest like a violent wind. Of course I wouldn’t be able to go; we’d been through this before. My parents had already discussed an alternative route for my life, and at this point, it seemed that their plans would be put into action.
At the moment I was thinking those thoughts, our other owl, Khaos, flew into the glass of the window with a resounding thud. Mum ran to see what message the deranged owl brought and shrieked with pleasure once more.
I dared not get my hopes up, but when Mum screamed, “Dumbledore is paying us a visit, Vincent!”, I perked up.
“Calm yourself down, woman!” Dad commanded, snatching the letter from her trembling hands. I watched in amazement as his eyes widened. “Merlin’s beard, he is coming.” His eyes reached the bottom of the parchment. “He’s coming in an hour.” Turning his hawk-like gaze upon me, he ordered, “Eat your breakfast quickly and help your mother clean the house.” He then disappeared into the upstairs bedroom to shower, no doubt.
“Come now, we don’t have all day,” Mum said encouragingly as I gobbled down my toast. She waved her wand at the kitchen and the knives flew into order while the plates stacked themselves neatly. “Wipe the table down, will you, once you’re done?”
I nodded and once the last drop of my pumpkin juice was finished, I took a wet cloth and quickly cleaned the kitchen table. Mum gave me a broom to sweep the floor while she straightened up the sitting room and dusted the mantle over the fireplace. Soon our wooden cottage was transformed to a better state.
The clock ticked away, and according to its hands, Professor Dumbledore would be here in ten minutes.
Dad came down the stairs in a clean set of robes. “Go to your bedroom, Remus. Don’t come down when Professor Dumbledore arrives, but if he does request your presence, make sure you’re dressed for it.”
Submitting to Dad’s will was the way in our house, so I didn’t argue and plodded up the stairs. I had to know what was going to happen. When Professor Dumbledore came, I would make sure I’d be listening.
Heart thumping, I shut my bedroom door with a creak. Quickly I changed into my nicest clothes (a simple dress shirt and navy pants) and combed my light brown hair, which was beyond repair at this time in the morning. “Are you ready for this?” I asked my reflection. The thin-framed boy with sorrowful eyes gazed back at me. “I didn’t think so,” I sighed as I set down the comb.
I jumped when I heard the knock at the front door. I did not open my door in fear of Dad catching me in the act. Dad’s greeting to Dumbledore floated up towards me. Now another voice joined his. I instantly liked the speaker. His voice was rich and wise, respectable and polite all at once. Clutching my hands into fists, I bit my lip.
They were probably heading to the sitting room right now. Mum had joined the two wizards, I was sure, because I heard her nervous laughter hovering in the air. Pressing my ear against the door, I strained to hear what the adults were saying, but their words were muffled.
Holding my breath, I carefully eased the door open so I could hear them.
“…I have set up a place for him to transform without being spotted. It is a fair ways from the school grounds and is completely safe, I assure you,” came Professor Dumbledore’s steady voice. “The staff has been alerted as well.”
I was sure the thumping of my heart and the heaviness of my breathing could be heard by all. Was it true that the Headmaster had secured such a place for me? What kind of man was he to do such a thing for one meager student?
Footsteps were coming up the stairs. I shut my door hastily and flounced onto my bed, pulling a book towards me so as to pretend I was reading.
Mum came in. “Remus, come downstairs.” She extended her hand and smiled at me. The spring in her step could only mean one thing. “The Headmaster wishes to see you.”
This was more than I could hope for. Eagerly, I rose from my bed and tried to hide my excitement by appearing cautious. Not until I heard everyone confirm my place in Hogwarts would I be truly happy.
With shaking knees I descended the rickety wooden staircase. I held my breath as Mum and I entered the sitting room.
Professor Dumbledore was a magnificent sight, with twinkling blue eyes and an impeccably clean, sweeping beard. “Hello, Mr. Lupin,” he greeted, and motioned to the sofa beside him.
He made me feel very grown up indeed by calling me ‘Mister’. No one had called me by that name before. I said nothing but sat down, staring at my knees and holding my breath. Would Dad concede? I hoped against all hopes that he would.
Professor Dumbledore started, “As Headmaster, I have ensured your safety and the safety of your peers by planting the Whomping Willow. Under this tree is a room, where you will transform every month. But I must warn you not to tell anyone of this. It is my genuine wish that you attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Mr. Lupin.” He paused. “I think you will be pleased to know your parents have agreed that you should become a student there as well.”
My head snapped up. “Really?” I looked from Mum to the Headmaster and finally, to Dad. He nodded slowly, and for the first time in a long time, I saw a faint smile creep to the corners of his mouth.
An effusion of blissful emotion overtook me. I was going to the place I dreamed of! My hopes of becoming a wizard were not extinguished after all. Best of all, Dad had said yes.
At this, I started to cry into my hands. They were little tears at first, leaking through the cracks between my fingers, then they came faster and faster; I didn’t know how to stop them, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. It seemed to have opened a dam inside me, and now it was gushing forth. Yes, I felt extremely foolish and childish for crying, but I felt this was the only way I could express my utter joy. I was going to Hogwarts. I was actually going to Hogwarts.
I felt Mum’s arm around my shoulders and the gentle pressure of Professor Dumbledore’s hand on my head. “There, there, now,” he said softly. “This is a new page in the chapter of your life. I know you will make the best of it.”