A Most Unusual Student

A MOST UNUSUAL STUDENT

Chapter 3. Welcome to Hogwarts.

I took my seat at the staff table next to Filius Flitwick and watched Minerva lead the new first years into the Great Hall. I always liked to see the Sorting, though sometimes I missed it if I had to attend to a student who'd become ill on the way to school. Or been on the receiving end of some prank or other which necessitated a visit to the hospital wing.

They came in, looking a little overwhelmed (as they always do) at their first sight of the Great Hall. Their faces showed awe, excitement, apprehension, nervousness, curiosity. A few tried to appear calm, but I knew that was generally a facade. As Minerva was Head of Gryffindor, I was always interested to see the students who would come under her wing. It may have been my imagination, but I thought the school had a smaller intake this year.

Remus Lupin - where was he? My eyes scanned the group as they lined up in front of us, and I eventually found him over to the right. He was standing between a tall thin girl with fair hair caught back in a long plait, and a stocky boy of about his height with curly brown hair and a cheerful round face. He was looking around with obvious interest, but his little face was set in an expression of quiet determination as he listened to Minerva explain the Sorting Hat procedure. In his new black robes he looked even smaller than I remembered him: he was quite pale, with deep shadows under his eyes, and I remembered that the full moon had only been four days ago.

The Hat sang its song, the first student was Sorted (a Hufflepuff) and I heard Minerva call out: "Amory, Jill". The tall girl next to Remus stepped forward quickly, and sat on the stool looking suddenly nervous. The Hat delayed a little, then pronounced her a Ravenclaw. Filius clapped enthusiastically. The next two were a Slytherin and another Ravenclaw. Filius clapped and beamed.

"Black, Sirius."

A tall, lean boy with a shock of black hair stepped forward from the left. Nice-looking, I thought. He had an air of suppressed excitement, and his eyes were alert and keen as he approached the stool. The Hat barely touched his head before it shouted "Gryffindor!" and I watched a huge grin break over his face as he headed towards that table. He moved with an easy grace, and I suddenly wondered - for no apparent reason - whether Minerva would have her hands full with that one.

"Evans, Lily", was the next Gryffindor. An attractive girl with shoulder-length red hair, she looked very serious as she went and sat opposite young Black. I saw him lean over and say something that made her smile. The Sorting continued briskly.

The Hat took a while to decide that that fair-haired "Fisher, Amanda" belonged in Gryffindor, and she was soon followed by "Houghton, Jeffrey". I watched as they took seats next to Black and Evans. Houghton smiled cheerfully at the others, but Fisher sank quietly onto her seat, looking more than a little relieved. How many more before Remus, I wondered?

Two more: the stocky boy next to him (Lawrence, Leonard) became a Hufflepuff. And then Minerva called: "Lupin, Remus".

There was no change in her voice or manner, but I knew how interested - and anxious - she was. I could almost feel Filius' tension beside me, and I suddenly found myself clasping my hands together fiercely in my lap. Please, oh please! I thought - please don't let it be Slytherin!

Remus walked forward calmly and sat on the stool. He had a quietly determined look about him as he settled the Hat on his head. It sank down almost over his eyes, and I wondered what he was hearing, what the Hat would do with a werewolf. The Hat took its time with him - it seemed like an eternity - and then pronounced proudly: "Gryffindor!"

I almost slumped with relief, and felt Filius relax beside me. "Well, well, that should be for the best," he murmured, and I nodded. Minerva was already reading out the name of the next student, but I'd seen her quick glance at Remus as he carefully made his way across to his new Housemates. I watched as he sat down next to Amanda Fisher, and saw him shyly accept the other students' welcomes. For a boy who'd been so isolated and lonely, this must be a very strange experience. Something made me turn and look at the Headmaster. Albus caught my eye and gave a small smile - we were safely over the first hurdle.

The Sorting proceeded rapidly and the names rolled by me. I tried to remember the Gryffindors as they were Sorted: McNicol, Morris, O'Reilly and Pettigrew all joined that table. Something made me pay particular attention as "Potter, James" was called. The Potters were a very old and wealthy wizarding family, well known and respected: I knew most of them had been in Gryffindor, with the occasional Ravenclaw (and even a Hufflepuff, it was rumoured) thrown in for good measure. The boy somewhat resembled Black: about the same height and build, with black hair that stuck up at all angles. But his face was a little squarer and he sported a pair of round, dark-framed glasses through which he blinked excitedly. Sure enough, the Hat took only seconds to pronounce him a Gryffindor. There was a rousing cheer from the whole table at that, and he strode confidently over to them with a broad grin. I saw some rapid shuffling as they made room for him between Black and Houghton, and watched as he and Black whispered excitedly together.

Still more Gryffindors: at the end of the Sorting I totalled them up - eight boys and five girls. I wondered how Minerva would arrange the boys' dormitories, which usually held no more than five. I realised I had neglected my own House, Hufflepuff: a swift head-count indicated only seven new faces, three boys and four girls.

As Minerva took the Hat and stool away, Albus rose to welcome the students. He reminded them that certain items were forbidden, that third-year students needed to hand in their Hogsmeade permission forms by the end of the week, and then he said, almost as an afterthought:

"No doubt you will all soon notice a large new tree in the grounds. It is a rare and most striking example of its kind and is a gift to the school from a most generous benefactor. Unfortunately, this person has a strange sense of humour - the tree is a Whomping Willow. Students should under no account go anywhere near it, unless of course they wish to receive a most painful thrashing! From the tree that is!" He beamed around as his words caused a ripple of amused comment, then clapped his hands and the feast began. The noise level rose immediately.

I couldn't help but look over at Remus as Albus spoke. I was sure Gwen would have told Remus about the Willow, but it must have come as a shock to him to hear it referred to so openly. He sat very still, and I was under the impression that he somehow expected that everyone would instantly know about him and who he was. But of course no one paid him any attention at all, and when the food appeared on the table he seemed to relax. I watched as he started to help himself to chicken: when I next looked over, he was talking quietly, in between mouthfuls, with the boy Morris to his right.

Minerva took her place between Filius and Albus, and we all exchanged relieved smiles. "Well, Minerva," said Filius cheerfully, "you have quite a large intake for Gryffindor this year! I wonder if there are any future Quidditch players amongst them." He was teasing her gently: Ravenclaw had won the trophy for the last two years and in their last match had positively thrashed Gryffindor.

"I sincerely hope so," she responded. "Though I believe, my dear Filius, that your team will need a little rebuilding now, won't it?" A sly dig of her own: four of the Ravenclaw team had been seventh years and had left at the end of last term.

Filius chuckled. "Then our next match should be most interesting! Perhaps we might end up with a small wager on the result?" He lowered his voice carefully. "I see you have our special student under your care, Minerva. And Potter too - though with his family background, that was only to be expected."

Minerva nodded, her voice also low, as she leant forward to speak to me. "Young Lupin looks very pale, Poppy. Do you think you need to see him tonight? He looked quite exhausted when he arrived, and I was almost thinking of sending him straight along to you."

I glanced across. Remus was now listening to the others' conversations while he ate steadily. "I don't think so, Minerva," I replied. "He knows to come to me if he feels unwell or he needs my help, and the last thing I want to do is draw undue attention to him on his first night here. From what his mother told me, he should be all right by now, just very tired. I expect a good night's sleep will do wonders." She nodded, satisfied, and our talk turned to other topics.

I left the Hall before the other staff, needing to be ready for evening Clinic. In a school the size of Hogwarts, there are always students who need regular medication of some sort or other: there is a rule that all medicines must be kept in the dispensary so that I can monitor the students and supervise what is being taken . And of course there are all the usual minor ills and injuries and medical problems that arise in a community this size. So I have regular Clinics three times a day.

Remus didn't come to Clinic after dinner, so I had to assume he was fine. I'd already made out a routine medical card for him in case of other ailments, and when stocking up the dispensary had made sure I had supplies of the herbal ingredients which Gwen's special teas would require. They were similar to several of my own recipes, and I would be interested to see which ones were most beneficial. I checked the waiting room again before I went to bed, just to make sure, but there was no sign of him.

*

I was early to breakfast next morning as usual, and kept an occasional eye on the Gryffindor table as I chatted to Professor Angle, our new Arithmancy teacher. He'd seemed rather stand-offish at the staff meeting before term started, but that may just have been shyness: anyway, I always liked to get to know the new teachers and make them welcome. I saw Remus come into the Hall with some of his Housemates - the boy Morris again, I noticed, and also a small plump fair-haired lad. What was his name? - Peter something? Pettigrew - that was it. Black and Potter soon joined them; those two already seemed to have struck up a friendship, I noticed, as they laughed and joked with each other all through the meal. I saw one of the Gryffindor prefects handing out timetables, and the boys all started studying them with interest.

The staff members were all naturally very busy at the start of a new term, and I had no chance to ask Minerva how Remus was getting along. I saw him at meals: he still appeared very shy, and didn't seem to sit with any particular students. But though he didn't talk much he was obviously interested in his classmates, and he was certainly eating enough to satisfy any concerns of his parents. I wondered whether he would take up my invitation to come and see me.

On the fourth evening he came to Clinic. He sat quietly in the waiting area until all the others had been attended to, and then came shyly into my office.

"Hello, Remus," I said cheerfully as I gestured him to a seat. "How are you enjoying Hogwarts so far? I'm glad you came down - I've seen you at meals of course, but haven't had a chance to catch up with you yet."

He gave a little smile. He was looking much better than at the Sorting; there was more colour in his face, and the shadows under his eyes had almost gone. "It's fine. I mean - all the subjects we have to do. They're really interesting. I like Charms. And Transfiguration. But some of the smells down there in the Potions room make me feel a bit sick."

"You get used to them," I assured him. "So who are the boys in your dormitory? There are usually only four or five in each, so with eight of you in Gryffindor this year, I guess there'd be two rooms?"

He nodded. "Yes. I'm in with James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew." He frowned a little. "I'm not used to sharing a room with other boys though, so it's a bit strange being in with everyone and all that. " He sounded slightly embarrassed, but I knew what he meant. And I was pleased to see he seemed quite willing to talk.

"It's probably much the same for most students, and of course many have never been away from home by themselves before either. So how are you getting along with them?"

"Fine. I mean, they're all very nice to me. And James and Sirius - they're really funny! Sirius has some great jokes."

"They're the two with the untidy black hair? James has the glasses?"

"That's right." He looked at me with interest. "You must have a good memory if you can remember their names from the Sorting!"

I chuckled. "Well, I've known Professor McGonagall for a long time, so I am always interested to see who she gets in Gryffindor. And of course, when you were Sorted there, I was very interested to see who you'd be with." I paused. "Pleased to be in Gryffindor, Remus?"

That smile again. "Oh yes! I was hoping it would be either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw - I mean, Mum and Dad would be happy with either one. I'm glad it's Dad's old House."

"They'll both be very proud of you. Have you written to them?"

"Yes. Next morning. Mum asked me to write as soon as possible. I think they were worried about me!"

"Of course they were! Well, not worried exactly, just very interested and wanting to know how you were. What House you were in, who you were with, and your trip up here."

He nodded. "I told her what the Headmaster said about the Whomping Willow."

Ah. "Well, he had to say something and warn all the students so no-one gets hurt. Actually, I thought it was an excellent explanation, didn't you? No-one will guess anything, so nothing for you to worry about at all. And it's behind the greenhouses and cannot really be seen from any of the dormitory wings or towers, so it should be quite easy to get there undetected." I knew that would have been worrying him.

He nodded, then sat in silence for a few moments, looking round at the shelves and bottles and the charts on the wall. One of these was a large new wall-planner. Albus had given it to me last term: it had plenty of room for notes, the current date lit up in deep iridescent blue, it reminded you of appointments, and when you asked it, the chart would announce all the appointments for any date or period - I was finding that feature most useful. The phases of the moon were indicated by small silver symbols that flashed quickly on and off. I could see Remus' attention caught by this: there were barely three weeks till the next full moon.

"Madam Pomfrey," he said slowly after a while, "can you tell me what's going to happen? I mean, what I have to do now I'm here. At full moons."

"Your mother told you about the tunnel and the Shack?"

"Yes."

"Well, the Willow is planted over the tunnel entrance. Only the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick and I know how to get in - and you of course!"

"Professor Flitwick knows too?" He sounded a little alarmed that so many people knew about him.

"Yes, dear. The Headmaster asked him to help with the security charms and shields on the Shack. He's a real expert at those, and we needed to make sure everything was safe. And of course, if you'd been in Ravenclaw, we'd have had to tell him anyway! I can assure you that he will never speak to anyone else about it."

"And if I'd been in Slytherin?" The look he gave me showed clearly what he was thinking about Professor Lutz.

I smiled. "As that didn't happen, Remus, we don't have to worry about it, do we! I must say, though, that I'm glad you're with Professor McGonagall. Anyway, as I was saying before, the tunnel leads through to the old Shack outside Hogsmeade. It takes about ten minutes to walk there. The Shack is completely secure, and no-one can get in, or even see in. There's a shielded trapdoor entrance, with a small peephole I can look through to check that you're - all right - and that I can come in and help you the morning after." I paused, trying to gauge his mood more accurately.

He seemed quite calm, so I took a chance. "Remus, do you want to go and see it? So it's not all too strange on the night?" I asked. "We could go now if you like - there's no-one else to see in Clinic." Even as I uttered the words I wondered whether it was a good idea.

But he didn't seem alarmed at the suggestion: he stood there and thought about it for a few moments, then nodded assent. Dusk had fallen, and in the gloom it would be easy for us to move undetected. I picked up my wand and ushered him out the side door of the hospital wing.

The Willow loomed over us and started to thrash menacingly, but the long stick was there as planned, and I quickly prodded the knot and gestured to Remus to follow me. Once in the tunnel I lit my wand and we moved along at a steady pace. Remus could walk upright, but I had to stoop slightly.

We reached the trapdoor into the Shack. It stood open as if waiting. Remus stopped to examine it almost clinically, noting the heavy construction and the little window. Then he followed me inside.

The original shack had been a single-room hovel, but Albus' work had enlarged it to a small two-storey cottage. Two rooms and a tiny bathroom downstairs, a hallway from which a flight of stairs led up to three more rooms. The furniture appeared to be an assortment of styles and periods. Much of it was heavy and ornate, and looked as though it had been gathered haphazardly from spare rooms in the castle. Well, Albus had undoubtedly done exactly that, I realised.

Upstairs, the bedrooms each had a large four-poster bed, festooned with rich hangings in brocades and velvets. Remus lit his own wand and walked around slowly, touching the furniture, examining the walls and boarded-up windows. His face was set, almost frozen in its composure: he said nothing at all.

I sat on one of the beds and watched him, wondering what he was thinking. This would be his prison, a torture chamber for every full moon while he was at Hogwarts over the next seven years. He checked every room, then came over and stood in front of me, his face expressionless.

"Madam Pomfrey, there aren't any silencing charms on the Shack, are there." A statement, not a question. Albus had insisted on this though, to ensure the Shack's reputation.

"No, Remus, just the shielding charms."

"So they'll be able to hear me, hear everything. All night."

"Yes." Just how bad was "everything", I wondered. "Your parents would have explained why it's like that."

"So the villagers will think there's a monster in here, an angry spirit or a ghost."

"Yes, and then they'll avoid the area."

"Dad always puts the charms on at home. He says the neighbours would get suspicious otherwise, 'cos we don't have any sort of dog." His voice was still neutral - he could have been discussing an interesting problem in logic.

"Yes, he would have needed to do that, to avoid any problems with neighbours or even people passing by."

He was silent, standing there as before, staring down at the wooden floor. At last he raised his eyes to mine.

I patted the bed, and after a moment he sat down beside me. He seemed very calm, very controlled, yet I could sense the tension in his body. But he still said nothing, just sat there staring at the opposite wall with its boarded-up window.

At last I spoke as gently as I could. "Remus, it will be all right. I can't really imagine what it's like for you. I know you'll be in terrible pain ..." I sensed him flinch slightly, "and I only wish that there was something more I could do to help you. But you'll be safe here, and I'll come and get you as soon as the moon has set next morning. We'll manage this together."

I saw him biting his lip. He seemed so very young, so vulnerable. On a sudden impulse, I put my arm round his shoulders, drawing him gently towards me. How thin he was! Even as I did so, I remembered Gwen warning me he was extremely wary of being touched by strangers, and of course he scarcely knew me as yet. He stiffened in reflex, then slowly relaxed and leant against my shoulder. We sat in silence for a while, and then I realised that tears were running down his cheeks. But still not a sound, not a sob.

I resisted the immediate temptation to turn and hug him, though I recalled Gwen's words the first day we met and talked: "... we just somehow muddled through and did our best, even when sometimes the only thing we could do was sit down and hold him." That would come later, I knew. This was not a boy who trusted easily, who was used to sharing with people. Right now it was enough that he accepted me this far, that he trusted me enough to talk to me and sit here with my arm around him. That he would even allow himself to cry at all.

The tears didn't last very long: Gwen also said he never liked to show this sort of weakness or emotion. So I was not surprised when he pulled away abruptly and looked at me, pushing his hair back from his face and looking ashamed.

"I'm very sorry, Madam Pomfrey," he whispered, fumbling for a handkerchief. "I didn't mean to be so silly. I know all this has to be done."

"I don't think you're silly at all, Remus," I said firmly, producing my own large clean one for him to wipe his eyes and blow his nose. (A pocket with a large handkerchief and possibly a Chocolate Frog or two is a very good first-aid kit to have for children, I've always found.) "You're very brave and you're very sensible. We'll go back now and you can wash your face before you go back to the dormitory."

We made our way back along the tunnel, out from under the Willow, and back into the hospital wing. Remus washed his face and I gave him some eye-drops to remove any sign of tears. "There!" I said calmly as he straightened his robes. "That looks fine. Now..." I opened a drawer, "eat this and you'll feel much better." I handed him a bar of chocolate.

He looked at it in surprise. "Thank you very much, Madam Pomfrey," he said gratefully, and I was relieved to see a faint smile once more. "For showing me ... and everything."

"Well there, now you know. On full moons, you just come on down here whenever you feel you need to - if it's early, you can rest in one of the hospital rooms until we need to go across. And remember - I'm always here to listen."

He nodded. "Good night, Madam Pomfrey."

"Good night, Remus. Sleep well." He headed out the door, munching the chocolate hungrily.

Later, I stood at my bedroom window, sipping a cup of hot chocolate. A mild night, with clouds drifting across the waning moon. The moon. I'd never given much thought to its phases before, except when Stephen and I had sailed at night and been grateful for the brightness of a full moon. The moon was for lovers. And werewolves.

I sat at the small desk in my bedroom and wrote a short note to Gwen and Edmund, telling them that Remus appeared to be settling in well and that I'd shown him the tunnel and the Shack. I promised to keep an eye on him and assured them I would write after his first transformation.

But it was a while before I fell asleep that night.

*

It was two weeks into term before Minerva and I managed to catch up properly. Strange, isn't it, how we can all live in the one castle, and yet find it so difficult to say more than a few words in passing. Minerva had a heavy teaching load, on top of which there had been a sudden spate of parental inquiries and visits - new students or old, I wasn't quite sure - and she'd been frantically busy. A small outbreak of dragonpox fever, various minor ills and the usual spate of student accidents had all combined to leave me rather occupied in the hospital wing. So it was the second Sunday of term before we had any time to ourselves: after lunch we decided to walk into Hogsmeade for a drink at the Three Broomsticks.

The weather was still warm and we sat outside at one of the small tables that Madam Rosmerta placed in the back garden when weather permitted. Minerva ordered a large Gillywater and I asked for a gin and tonic, a Muggle drink to which I'd become partial after marrying Stephen. Somehow it always reminded me of the happy times we'd spent sailing together.

"So, Minerva," I said as we sipped our drinks, "how are the first years shaping up?"

"First years in general, first year Gryffindors, or just young Mr Lupin?"

"Oh, all three of course. You have quite a large number in Gryffindor this year."

"Yes. It's only been two weeks so far, but I'd say it seems to be quite a bright year overall. At least from what I've seen, and heard from the others. As for the Gryffindors, well, I think I've got a couple of really, ah, 'interesting' young gentlemen."

"Let me guess - Potter and Black."

"Now, why would you single out those two, Poppy?" she said, her eyes glinting.

"Well, they sit together at meals, and whenever I've seen them around they're always laughing and carrying on. There was something about them at the Sorting too, though hard to put my finger on it. But I remember getting the impression, when young Black was Sorted, that you might have your hands full with him."

"They're a handful all right!" Minerva said fervently. "Peeves found them out of the dormitory after hours last weekend - lucky he only yelled at them before they got back inside. Filius found them exploring the old disused corridor on the top floor of his wing one afternoon, and they've already been on the verge of a detention from Professor Heldin. They've lost a total of twenty House points so far, but they've gained back thirty."

"In the first two weeks?" That wasn't bad going for first years.

"Young Mr Black has a strange fondness for sudden explosions and loud noises, it would seem. And Mr Potter has an aptitude for - ah - "unusual" incidents."

"And their schoolwork?"

"That, my dear Poppy, is what is likely to make them so dangerous!" Minerva sounded both amused and exasperated. "It generally takes a little time to sort out the students, those who have natural talent, the hard workers, those who will struggle. But those two ... well, they've certainly got natural talent! I mean, how many students can turn the matchstick into a proper needle in their first attempt at Transfiguration? Very, very few over the years, I can assure you. Yet Black and Potter - both of them managed it easily, and then set about trying to turn some scraps of parchment into pins and thread 'so they'd have a sewing kit, Professor!', according to Mr Potter's explanation."

I laughed. "And their other work?"

"It's early days of course, Poppy, but I'd estimate extremely bright all round. Even the dreaded Professor Heldin admits that Mr Black - when he is not experimenting with fireworks - seems to have plenty of ability at Potions." She sighed. "You know, if those two manage to combine brains, natural talent and a taste for mischief, we are going to have a VERY interesting few years! I almost wish I'd managed to put them into different dormitories - oh well, can't be helped now." She finished her drink and ordered another for both of us.

"So, what about young Remus Lupin?" I asked after a few moments. "How is he managing things?"

Minerva thought for a while before replying. "I'd say he is actually one of the brightest ones," she said slowly. "In the whole year, not just amongst the Gryffindors. He is very, very shy of course: never says anything in class unless you ask him, and appears to just concentrate on his work. But he managed the Transfiguration exercise very well also, and Filius said he's answered his questions perfectly so far. He, Black and Potter seem to relish Defence, and Professor Datura says Remus already appears to know a fair bit about herbology. Academically, I think he really might be one to watch."

"And does he seem to be making any friends?"

Minerva shrugged. "Hard to say as yet. So far in my class I've seen him sit with four different people. Filius said he's noticed him with Mr Morris a couple of times, and even Mr Black yesterday." She rolled her eyes at that. "He's well behaved to this point - all we'd need is for him to take up with Black and Potter!" I refrained from saying that I thought a little bit of mischievous fun in Remus' life might not be such a bad idea.

"Anyway," she continued, "he seems to be moving around, and talks to the girls just as much as the other boys. It often takes a while for the first years to get really settled though, and he's not even used to being with other children. It must all be very new and strange to him." She looked at me intently. "Worried, Poppy?"

"He came to see me about four nights into term," I said, then lowered my voice slightly. "We went over through the tunnel to the Shack."

"How did he seem?"

I thought of the way he'd walked around the Shack, remembered his face, and the quiet tears he'd shed.

"It must be a living hell for him, Minerva," I said softly. "I just cannot imagine what he must go through every month! He tries so hard to be brave, but ... How Gwen and Edmund Lupin have managed these last six years I will never know. But he understands what has to be done, and he'll come to me when it's time, and we will just have to manage." I looked at her ruefully. "But you may need to bring me down here a little more frequently! Or lay in a good supply of gin and tonic!"

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