𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟚 𝕠𝕗 ' 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕖 ' HIATUS

i

It had been almost twelve years since that feeling of hopelessness had consumed him.

It festered inside until he would spend his nights at the local pub, drinking, and drinking until he couldn't remember their faces, their smell, their voices. Gray speckled his naturally sandy brown hair, dark bags stayed under his eyes, and frown lines were present around his once smiling mouth.

Finding work was hard, whether it be in the muggle or wizarding world. No one wanted to hire a werewolf, and no one wanted to hire a junkie who couldn't offer some sort of degree.

He found himself in an abandoned run-down cottage one morning after a transformation, he now called it home. With a little elbow grease, he managed to make the place half decent.

He had never forgotten that offer Mrs. Truelove had offered him, sometimes he even thought about acting on it, but alas, his pride an embarrassment kept him from doing so.

He didn't want anyone to see him like this, it would kill him. So you can only imagine how he felt when he found Albus Dumbledore waiting at his front door one summer afternoon.

-

The only question that ran through Remus' head for the next fifteen minutes was, ' Why is he here?'

Dumbledore had said nothing, only looking around before summoning a chair. He cleared his throat and Remus' attention was on him.

" Forgive me for intruding Mr. Lupin," he began, ", But I've come to ask a favor."

Remus furrowed his brows, " A favor? I'm sorry Professor but I have nothing to offer." he said quietly while gesturing to their surroundings. Dumbledore only shook his head, " I'm offering you a job."

Remus' eyes widened, " A job?" he choked.

Dumbledore smiled, " Yes, the position as the Defense of the Dark Arts teacher."

It felt as if Remus couldn't breathe. Against his better judgment he let his imagination go wild and let the dying ember of hope catch fire.

Dumbledore only watched him with a soft smile, knowing to well that look in the younger man's eyes. " Of course we'll have to take some precautions due to your illness, but we have it all figured out- I just need your answer."

Remus stopped for a second, his illness, Merlin how could he have forgotten?! He couldn't teach, he was underqualified, and no parent would want their child taught by a monster. He would just hurt someone... he couldn't.

" I-I don't think I can." he said weakly.

Dumbledore frowned, ", And why is that?"

Remus looked up, ", Because no one would want their child taught by a werewolf, and how am I to teach without reawakening the rumors about the Shrieking Shack?" he asked.

The older man shook his head, " I'm sure you're familiar with Wolfsbane?"

Yes, Remus had heard of it. He remembered overjoyed to hear about it, only to have his hope drain down the sink upon hearing the price of such a potion, not only that but the skill needed to make it. Remus had been rubbish at potions when he was in school, having to be partnered with one of the best in there. Evelyn had picked up his slack and he was still grateful because if it wasn't for her he probably wouldn't have passed.

" You're kidding." he deadpanned. Dumbledore chuckled, " I can assure you Mr. Lupin, I am not."

Remus ran a hand through his thinning hair, " I... I want to say yes, but-"

" I understand," interrupted Dumbledore, ", But please think about it Remus, you have until the end of July to give me your answer, but until then," Dumbledore stood and with a wave of his wand the chair was gone and in his hand was a bottle. " Have this."

Remus took the bottle carefully and looked back up at him, " What's this?" he asked.

" Think about it Remus," Dumbledore smiled, " Now I must be off, have a lovely day."

Dumbledore apparated with a soft pop, leaving Remus alone once again.