The Salem Witches Institute

Chapter Four: Full Moon

The days continued along in much the same, normal way, with the only addition to the mundane being Mrs. Crickett's continued and very nosy appearance in Lupin's classroom. It seemed that she had taken it upon herself to personally supervise his teaching methods to make sure that he was "acceptable;" she was shocked and annoyed to realize that her former students were now not only enjoying themselves, they were blossoming under his tutelage. Remus didn't know how she had the time to teach her other classes and look after his as well, but he didn't bother asking. He wasn't entirely fond of conversing with the woman, and was grateful for any excuse just to be rid of her.

While everyone had gotten used to that fact that a man was now roaming the hallways, that didn't mean the soft-spoken Brit's popularity stagnated; in fact, it was much the opposite. He seemed to have accumulated a growing fan club of sorts, comprised of girls of various ages who made excuses to come see him and giggled every time he said "hello" or chanced a look at them between classes in the hallways. This was all very flattering at first, of course; he was hardly used to being noticed, let alone admired. But Lupin had to admit, it was beginning to grate on his nerves.

To make matters worse, the full moon was fast approaching. It was all Remus could do to make himself look and act as normal as possible; with only a week to go, his hair had begun to grow at an alarming rate and he had to constantly chew his nails to keep them from growing into full-fledged claws. When he started pulling his hair back into a shaggy, loose ponytail, this only heightened the googling eyes and approving looks he already received from the teenage witches. His sense of smell was greatly improved; he could sniff out exactly what the cooks in the cafeteria were making for lunch hours before it was served, and the mixed aromas of the assorted perfumes his students wore almost gagged him. Even so, nobody asked any tough questions or seemed to notice that anything was amiss.

Madam Beemer came to his office that same week, bearing three bottles full of the greenish-blue liquid Lupin knew to be Wolfsbane. She placed them on his desk and crossed her arms, watching him sternly. "Your potions, Professor, and don't doubt the quality; Aurora is an expert brewer, though she knows not that it is being made for you. I know that you are worried, but rest assured, all will go well and you have all of my faith in you."

He was a little taken aback by such kind words from such a coldly businesslike woman. Had she read his mind? Only a few minutes ago, he had been dwelling on his past failures as a teacher at Hogwarts from a few months past, when he had forgotten to take his potion and put so many innocent lives in danger . . . It was a disaster he was not intending to repeat. "Thank you, headmistress, I appreciate your support, but even still . . ."

"No buts," Madam Beemer interjected smoothly. "It's all taken care of. If anyone asks of your whereabouts, you are visiting you great aunt and uncle in Michigan. Mrs. Crickett will be teaching your class for the few days you will be 'gone.' I've had a room prepared on the top floor for you when it happens, fourth door on the left. It is small, but I trust it will prove sufficient."

She sounded so crisp, so sure of it all; Remus doubted if she knew exactly what sort of dangerous games she was toying with, but he was thankful nonetheless. He just hoped all went as smoothly as Madam Beemer seemed to think it would . . .

And then, the remaining five days were already spent and Remus found himself ascending the stairs to the topmost floor of the institute, which was used primarily for storage. None save the janitors ever passed up so far; even so, Remus magically locked the door behind him in case any of his fan club members chanced to see him. All was silent and empty and bathed in the orange glow of the swiftly setting sun.

He reached his room and tried the knob; it was, of course, locked, but a simple "Alohomora" was more effective than any key. He was surprised at how cozy the little place was; a bucket of fresh water was waiting beneath a small, circular window and a pile of large, cushy pillows were lain carefully along the walls. It was the perfect getaway for a quickly transforming werewolf . . . Except that somebody was already there.

Remus' eyes widened in shock. It was Rachel Parker, a girl of about fifteen who he taught and was always frequenting his office after class had ended. She was huddled in the corner, sobbing incessantly, and she looked up quickly when he entered. "M-Mr. Lupin? What are you doing here?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing!" he proclaimed breathlessly. He could feel his body changing as the moon became more and more visible; hairs were prickling uncomfortably on the back of his neck and his fingers were clenched as if anticipating the paws they would soon become. He was torn as to what to do: he couldn't transform right there in front of her and reveal his secret, but her certainly couldn't just leave her there, crying . . .

Tears fell harder down her pink cheeks and she sniffled loudly. "Oh, Mr. Lupin, I don't know what to do! I CAN'T keep it secret anymore . . . I've just GOT to tell someone . . ."

"Tell someone what? What's wrong?" he asked in concern. He could feel his tail growing from his backside . . . He willed his transformation to slow down . . .

She wiped her eyes and looked straight at him. "I . . . I'm . . . I'm a werewolf!" She wailed even louder, burying her face in her hands.

Lupin was struck dumb. SHE was a werewolf? Here? What were the chances of that? Did anyone else know, and if not, how did she keep it a secret? There was no time to ask, however; his body was quickly becoming more wolfish. Hurriedly he tried to speak. "Listen, Rachel, it's OK! There are potions that can help you with it, that will keep you safe when you transform . . ." He stooped involuntarily as his arms became front legs. "But you'll be OK, because I'm a werewolf, too . . .!"

Rachel's eyes widened as a snout grew where her teacher's nose had once been. She gasped and covered her face with her hands, looking away and squealing. "Oh, don't look, don't watch me, please, don't watch me change . . .!"

Lupin nodded and turned around towards the door, his body in the final stages of his alteration. He could hear the rustling of Rachel's robes, her choked sobs, and something that sounded strangely like the clink of a glass bottle . . . But that couldn't be right, it must've been his imagination. His fingers shortened into paws and the nails grew from them painfully fast until they finally settled into claws, and wolf ears shot from the top of his head. Soon his entire body was covered in thick, silvery gray fur, until he was completely and wholly a wolf.

A low growl from the window signaled to him that Rachel had finished her change as well. He turned back towards her, coming face to face with a slimmer, smaller version of himself, except that her fur was a darker shade of brown-gray. She looked around herself fearfully and backed into the corner, whimpering as if threatened; when Lupin tried to grin reassuringly, he realized that it probably looked to her like a snarl, so he contented himself with pushing a pillow towards her with his wet nose.

The night dragged on. They were both magically locked within the room and had no way of using their wands, so they were stuck there until the morning. Rachel remained extremely skittish; he suspected it was because she had never been in contact with another of her kind, and her wolfish mind viewed him as something not to be trusted. So he sat by himself near the door, his head on his two front paws, pondering the amazing discovery he had just made.

There were so many questions he wanted to ask! He wished the sun would hurry up and rise; seemingly ages later, it's rosy pink rays could be glimpsed, barely, from beneath the horizon outside the window. Hurriedly Lupin covered himself with his discarded robes in preparation of becoming himself again; he turned away politely so that Rachel could have at least some measure of privacy. He could feel the warmth of the sun upon his back; the hairs were receding once again into his skin, his paws had become hands again, and soon he was Professor Remus Lupin again . . .

He waited a few moments before looking back at Rachel. She was back in her school uniform and looked completely fine except for the dark circles beneath her eyes; she had obviously not slept a wink at all that night.

He smiled encouragingly. "Are you OK?"

Rachel yelped in fear and stood up quickly. "I . . . I have to be going now." She grabbed her wand and pushed past him to the door; when the knob would not yield to her impatient rattling, she spat out "Alohamora!" with her wand upraised and sprinted down the hallway.

"Wait!" he cried after her as he watched her disappear around a corner. "It's alright! There's nothing to be ashamed of!" But he knew his cries were in vain; she was long gone and he was left alone once again.