The Marauders and the Arenotelicon

Remus Lupin had many dreams, but they were usually just that, dreams. Dreams took him to places that books could not. Faraway lands that had never been invented, cavorting with friends he'd never had, and defeating creatures that he'd never seen with a wave of his wand.

On his eleventh birthday when other boys and girls in the wizarding world got up with eager excitement, Remus moped in his four-poster bed until the family house elf, Teffie, shooed him out of it, after which he moped at his desk, half-heartedly reading through a book on Muggle fantasy creatures his father had given him the night before.

He was so dejected that he paid no attention to the knock at the door downstairs nor his father's call to see who it was from the basement where Lupin senior had his potions laboratory. His father marched up the stairs, gave a long sorrowful look up toward his son's bedroom and walked to the door.

Phineas Lupin opened the door and gave a tentative smile of pleased surprise. "Albus Dumbledore? Welcome to Lupin Hall! Won't you come in?"

An elderly wizard with long white hair and beard stepped in, surveying his surrounding with twinkling blue eyes, pulling his deep purple robes tightly about his wiry thin frame. "Why thank you, Phineas. Everything going well in the world of potions?"

Phineas shrugged his thin shoulders and smiled beneath his salt-and-pepper mustache. "Not bad, not bad at all. Been working, you know, on a potion for my son..." His voice trailed off and Lupin's amber eyes saddened.

"Your son is why I'm here, Phineas." Dumbledore's mouth twitched beneath the beard. "Would you care to open the door again and let the owl in?"

"Owl?" Phineas looked bewildered but did as he was told.

A brown barn owl swooped in and headed for the grand but dilapidated staircase. It swooped upward and soared out of sight down the long hall upstairs.

"Please, this way," motioned Phineas to the parlor on the right. He was curious as to why an owl was winging its way toward his only child's bedroom. "What did you need to speak to me about?"

"We shall wait a few more minutes for your son to join us," said Dumbledore simply and Phineas, unable to do more, merely nodded.

The thunder of excited footsteps could be heard moments later on the stairs and the incredulous shouts of Phineas' son, Remus, could be heard echoing through the house.

"Papa! Papa! I got an owl from Hogwarts! Papa! I got my letter! I got my letter!" Remus came skidding into the parlor and his jaw dropped open in astonishment at the sight of Albus Dumbledore sitting neat as you please on a rather care worn loveseat.

"Hello, Remus," greeted Dumbledore casually, ignoring the open-mouthed gaze of the slender, pale youth in front of him. "You are doing well, I trust?"

Manners kicked in automatically and Remus replied, "Very well, sir, thank you for asking."

Dumbledore smiled indulgently. "I came to tell you both that I believe that, with some special arrangements every full moon, there should be no problem with Remus attending Hogwarts these next seven years. I must stress that should either of you have any problems with the arrangements, I will have to withdraw the invitation."

Phineas looked at his son, who was both excited and flabbergasted. Three weeks ago, as Remus' eleventh birthday drew near, they had both somberly discussed what Remus would do for continued schooling should he not be allowed to attend Hogwarts. Phineas was suddenly wary of allowing his son to go. The prejudices against werewolves would make school life a living hell, but Phineas also knew that his only child had dreamed of Hogwarts for so long that he could not deny him this opportunity.

Hogwarts represented friends, adventure and the life that Remus had wanted for so long. Phineas couldn't bear to take that chance away from his son. Remus had been dealt such a bad hand in life already; Phineas didn't have the heart to make it any more difficult. He prayed silently that Remus would be cautious. His fears were put to rest as his son straightened up and looked from both his father to the Hogwarts Headmaster.

"What are these arrangements?" asked Remus shrewdly.

Dumbledore blinked at the child before him. 'Old before his time,' Dumbledore thought sadly to himself. 'Like so many others of his kind.' It was a shame really, it wasn't the boy's fault he'd been bitten but he would be ostracized for it all the same.

"There is an old shack on the edge of Hogsmeade that is boarded up. I have magically dug a tunnel from the school to the shack where you can go and stay during the full moon. To safeguard the tunnel and to make sure your wolf form does not get out, I've taken the liberty of planting a Whomping Willow, a tree that will guard the entrance of the tunnel. Spells will be cast on the shack and tunnel to make sure than no one can enter or exit it except through the entrance by the tree." He looked from father to son. "I will of course make sure that Remus'...special circumstances will remain with myself, the school nurse, the groundskeeper and his head of house when he's been sorted. If Remus chooses to make it known to anyone else, that is -"

"I won't." The words were spoken in a hard tone, brooking no argument. Amber eyes so similar to his father's stared at Dumbledore. "If my father accepts these conditions, I do too. Thank you, Professor Dumbledore, you won't regret it, I promise."

Dumbledore sighed. "Remus, I do this because you deserve a chance. You are punished otherwise for something that you have no control over. If you are anything at all like your parents you have ability and cleverness in great abundance. I also know that you have been very alone, more out of necessity than anything else. I'm giving you a chance to be as normal as possible." Dumbledore smiled encouragingly. "Your father is clever. I have absolute faith that he will find a way to help you eventually. In the meantime, you have this opportunity so do not let us down."

For the first time since he'd skidded to a halt in the parlor, Remus looked like the eleven year old boy he was. "Papa, I'm going to Hogwarts!" he shouted and threw his arms around his father's neck.

Phineas hugged his son tight, tears forming in his own amber eyes. "Thank you," he mouthed silently to Dumbledore over his son's shoulder.

"You are most welcome," Dumbledore mouthed back and he smiled hugely.

"Let's look at that letter and see what we need to get in London next week, eh, my boy?" said Phineas, pulling away from the hug and reaching for the letter. He paused, reconsidering. "Why don't you read it?"

Remus smiled, the years leeching from his features. Dumbledore wondered how long the boy would live. The monthly transformations were notorious for being harsh; so difficult in fact that many werewolves did not live past seventy-five years.

"Dear Mr. Lupin," Remus read outloud, eyes shining, "we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find the enclosed list of all necessary equipment. Term begins September 1st. We await your owl no later than July 31st."

Dumbledore exited and closed the parlor door on the pair, smiling to himself. Moments like these made the job always more than worthwhile.