Sanctuary

Chapter 3

July 6th 1971

In the highlands of Scotland, Professor Albus Dumbledore, newly appointed Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, sat at his desk completing some paperwork. He was checking through the letters of acceptance prepared by his deputy to ensure every child on the list would receive one. Whilst comparing the pile of envelopes against the list copied from the book of admittance, he also sorted them into two groups. One for children with magical lineage; they would receive their letters by owl. The other for children with muggle lineage; a member of the faculty would deliver these by hand, ready to demonstrate their magic for any disbelieving muggle parents.

Albus frowned when he came across a discrepancy, a name on his list with no corresponding letter. He sent a note down to his deputy, Professor Minerva McGonagall, asking her to come to his office as soon as possible, and she appeared at his door within half an hour.

'Albus? What do you need?' she said, walking in.

'Good afternoon, Minerva. Would you like a lemon drop?'

'No, thank you,' McGonagall said, eyeing the muggle candy with distaste.

'Straight to business then?' Dumbledore sighed. 'As you wish. We have a missing letter. Is there a reason you have forgotten Mr Lupin, or is this discrepancy merely a mistake?'

Dumbledore unwrapped a lemon drop and popped the sweet into his mouth.

'There's no mistake.' McGonagall sighed, taking a seat. 'It's a sad story, I'm afraid. A werewolf bit the poor wee lad. He was four years old when it happened.' She shook her head. 'Such a shame. His father wrote to ask us to remove him from the list.'

'Well, he must still be alive or his name would have disappeared from the book. Why will he not be coming to school?' Dumbledore said, frowning.

'He's a werewolf, Albus! You can't be suggesting we risk everyone else here for one boy.'

McGonagall looked shocked at the very idea.

'Risk? No. There's no need for risk. Are not the teachers here all Masters in our chosen fields? Between us, I'm sure we can make arrangements to accommodate the boy's condition. But think, Minerva. How much could it assist the light in the coming war if we had a magically educated werewolf in our ranks, one indebted to our cause? No doubt Riddle will attempt to recruit all manner of dark creatures over the next few years. If we had a werewolf on our side, we could hide a spy amongst them.' Dumbledore's eyes gleamed with excitement.

'I admit the idea has merit, but how do you know the boy would side with us?'

'Simply by showing him the kindness and acceptance the rest of society does not. Werewolves are easy prey for men like Riddle, ostracised as they are. We must make him feel accepted, wanted and even loved.' Dumbledore leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful expression. 'Now, let's discuss how we can ensure everyone's safety on full moons.'

-o-o-o-o-

July 8th

With the full moon occurring that night, Remus was meditating in his bedroom to prepare himself. This would be his fourth in the torture chamber, as he called the hole in the garden. His first night in the underground prison left him broken and bleeding, worse than ever before. The injuries were so severe, Remus suspected the wolf of attempting suicide. That quest would always fail though, the regeneration abilities made death from blood loss impossible. He wandered around his mental fortress checking doors and making sure everything was locked up tight.

A pounding on his bedroom door drew him from his mental landscape, and he knew it would be his dad coming to tell him it was time. He opened the door, and Lyall stood behind it, every inch of his skin covered in thick, puffy material to prevent accidental touch when he apparated Remus into the cage.