Chapter Text
Eleven year old Remus Lupin stood in Professor McGonagall's office, staring blankly at the desk in between them.
“You remember the arrangements made?” she asked, but the boy merely gave the tiniest of nods. “I will accompany you to the safe house we have arranged. It's protected by every charm and spell myself, Professor Dumbledore and Professor Flitwick know between us, there's no chance of you or anyone else coming to harm.” He nodded again, but didn't look up. Frowning slightly in concern, she opened the biscuit tin on her desk and offered it to him, but he didn't respond. She took a biscuit herself instead and chewed slowly.
“We'll be going through a dirt tunnel to get to the safe house, it might take too long to walk the long way around,” she said and a briskness crept into her voice. This wasn't everyday business for her, either, and she was steeling herself.
“'m sorry,” Lupin mumbled at last and shuffled his feet.
“Don't be,” she said and stood up. She came around the desk and put a hand on his back to turn him towards the door. “You're a bright young man and we're happy to have you as a student.” She began leading him out in the hall and although his mood understandably stayed low, he went by his own machine after a few meters.
“You have told your classmates you're going to St. Mungo's for a check-up after a nasty bout of dragon pox last winter?” she asked as they exited the castle through the large front doors. He nodded again and hunched his shoulder a bit.
“They asked me if I had been green as a toad,” he said quietly, clearly not finding the question as funny as his fellow first year students.
“It's called dragon pox, not toad pox, you might as well have got impressive shadings in red and gold,” she said with a small smile. He looked up at her as she adjusted her hat, a thin ribbon in the Gryffindor colours around the base of it, and he smiled shyly back.
She had been leading the way down the gravel path to the gates, their shadows stretching out to several times their height beside them, but now she stopped and looked straight at him.
“We should be out of view from the castle now, but even so.” She took out her wand and tapped it lightly on his head and he shuddered as the concealment charm took effect, projecting the environment onto him so he looked like he was made of incredibly clear glass. “I will turn into a cat now, and won't be able to give you further instructions. Follow me to the new willow, but stay out of the reach of the branches until I give you a signal that it's clear. Shall we say two meows?”
“Two meows means clear,” Lupin agreed and she thought she saw him smile briefly. Well, it wouldn't hurt for him to laugh more, even if it was at the cost of her dignity. She nodded hard and transformed into the grey tabby that was her animagus form, looked up once at the shimmering, see-through boy, then set off at a confident trot across the lawn.
She stopped a good long way out of the reach of the newly planted willow and surveyed it. It looked like any other willow tree for the most part. She would have been much more fond of Herbology as a whole if it didn't involve so many plants trying to do you in one way or another, like this one, and the tree had already sent five students to the hospital wing in the two weeks since term started. Some people just didn't know their own good, she reflected, knowing all but one of them were prone to risky behaviour.
“Do you want me to wait here, professor?” Lupin asked quietly, hugging his elbows. She looked up at him and gave a slight inclination of her head, it didn't quite work to nod as a cat.
The willow was less likely to attack animals, but she was still on high alert, and not sure the beastly plant didn't somehow know she wasn't really a cat. Sneaking almost on her belly, she listened out for any rustling of leaves, but what she heard seemed to be down to the light breeze and not the tree springing into action. She was about twenty feet from the trunk when she heard the whining approach of a branch and leapt forward, sprinting the rest as more branches beat the ground, but it didn't seem like the willow put that much effort in it; it almost seemed like it was just playfully swatting around.
She came at the tree trunk at high speed and almost ran up it, hitting the knot in the wood to subdue the willow with her back paw and waited for the branches to fall silent again before jumping back down on the ground. Her chest was heaving and her heart hammering, cats really weren't made for more than a short sprint, but gave two clear “miaow!”s into the twilight.
Remus Lupin came jogging to her side and cast a quick look at the sinking sun before looking at the cat. McGonagall inclined her head towards a hole between the roots, then jumped in and waited for the boy to follow.
By the time he had scrambled down she had transformed back and lit her wand to illuminate the low tunnel.
“This is far from the ideal conditions, but means must,” she said and began walking, the top of her hat brushing the ceiling and dislodging a lump of dirt here and there.
“Professor? How – How does it feel when you're a cat?” Lupin asked after a few minutes so quietly it was barely audible over their footsteps.
“It's quite strange,” she admitted, having no trouble understanding why the boy asked. “I walk on four legs, I have much better sight, hearing and sense of smell. But I prefer not to do it too often, it is very strange.”
“Yeah,” the boy breathed behind her.
After a few more minutes she stopped and stood to the side to show him an open trapdoor leading out of the tunnel. He looked up at the gloomy room above, then slowly to the small ladder leading up. He tentatively passed her and ascended.
“We debated if we should leave the furniture or not,” she said when she had followed him up, “but Dumbledore decided you should have the option of some creature comforts.” She saw him wince slightly at the last words. He looked anxiously around the hallway they had entered and the living room off to the side, chewing his lip. After a minute of this she crossed her arms and gave him a stern look.
“It's only – I'll tear them apart,” he gulped and looked at the floor.
“Which we foresaw,” she told him. “Everything in here is completely disposable.” The house itself wouldn't stand up to a too hard storm without all the magical reinforcements put on it, and the furniture was at least three decades out of fashion and didn't look like it had cost much to begin with. “I'll wait in the tunnel until morning, then escort you back to the castle.”
This piece of news caused Lupin to look terrified at her. “No! You can't! Go back to the school! I don't – I don't want to hurt you, professor.” His eyes were welling up with tears and he quickly looked down on the floor again.
“You won't,” she said, forcefully reminding herself to be patient. “The trap door locks from down in the tunnel and I will transform into a cat again. Werewolves don't attack animals, now, do they? And should you by some unthinkable means get close to me, I'm not incompetent with a wand.” The boy swallowed hard, then nodded. She gave his shoulder a brief squeeze, then began descending the ladder.
“Perhaps you should take off your robes,” she said when she was halfway down. “They'll get dirty, there are years of rat droppings in here.” Lupin blinked a couple of times, then began pulling the robes over his head and got entangled in them. McGonagall came to his aid and released him from them, revealing a neatly ironed white shirt and grey trousers underneath, his black shoes slightly speckles with dirt from the tunnel. She gave him a reassuring smile, not every student wore ironed clothes, or even clean ones, under their robes.
“I can hold on to these for you if you want to,” she said, but he didn't hear, he was looking out the grimy window on the ever-darkening sky. “It will be all right,” she said before she went down into the tunnel again, folded the robes and put them on the middle step of the ladder, and locked the trapdoor both manually and magically.
---
It wasn't comfortable down in the dark and damp tunnel, but her cat form dealt tolerably with it. What was less tolerable was that she caught herself washing her front legs with her tongue whenever her mind was on other things than the present situation. She didn't think she was particularly dirty despite her surroundings, but she preferred not to ingest fur.
From above came the sounds of growls and howls, chairs being tipped over and large claws on wooden floors, a big body throwing itself at the wall, and sometimes whimpers of fright and shame. The sounds thundered around the house, sometimes more muffled from the furthest rooms, sometimes right above her.
She had taken a watch out of her pocket and laid it on the floor before transforming, but even with her cat eyes she could only make out roughly what time it was. It wasn't too important, as she could tell when it was over by the lack of noise. A look at the watch only confirmed the sun had risen.
She transformed back into a human and stretched her back and arms, she had been sitting too still for too long, and picked up the robes before going up the rickety ladder.
“Mr. Lupin?” she called and shaded her eyes, even the glum light in the house seemed intense after the dark of the tunnel. “Mr. Lupin?” she repeated louder as she went into the living room. She found one of his shoes which had looked so new the night before reduced to leathery tatters. The couch had deep gouge marks and a few springs stuck out of the stuffing, and a rag of blood-splattered white fabric was hanging off a lamp like an attempt at a gruesome garland.
“Mr. Lupin!” She went quickly back to the hall and began searching the other rooms. “Remus! Mr. Lupin! Remus Lupin!” She found his other shoe in the doorway to a bedroom and took it with her.
He was lying halfway concealed behind the overturned kitchen table, nothing but his pale legs visible from the doorway. She hurried over and threw the robe over him to save him the embarrassment of nakedness as much as for the warmth, his toes were turning blue.
“Look at you,” she murmured as she went around the table and knelt by him. He had a large scratch on his forearm, but it didn't seem to be bleeding any more, and a large bruise was forming on the other shoulder. She didn't know what other injuries were hiding under the robe, but he raised his head slightly.
“Po... Professor,” he said slowly and sighed, pulling the robe up over his shoulder.
“We'll get you to Madam Pomfrey, don't worry,” she told him and patted his hair. He blinked a couple of times, then saw the mangled shoes she had put down on the floor and shot out a hand to take hold of them.
“No,” he moaned and looked frightened at them.
“I can mend them, they'll be as good as new,” she said firmly.
“They were new,” he answered, fisting his hand around one sole. “And my clothes. My Mum'll be angry.” His voice hitched and he began crying, too tired to keep it in. McGonagall knitted her brow and shook her head.
“I should have thought to save more than your robes,” she said and gave him her handkerchief. He took it automatically and pressed it to his eyes. “I'm afraid your clothes are too far gone to save, but I'll personally reimburse your mother for them if necessary.”
“No,” he hiccuped and lowered the handkerchief. “I – I know I rip my clothes, it's not your fault.”
“Arguing about whose fault it is is hardly productive,” she said and pushed her glasses up on her nose. “Pokie the house-elf?” she called clearly, and was relieved to see a small, pink creature materialise a few feet from Lupin's head, she had not been absolutely sure she could call on the Hogwarts house-elves off the school grounds.
“Yes, Professor McGonagall?” the elf said softly, looking at her with eyes eager to help, but McGonagall knew Pokie were one of the more intelligent house-elves and didn't trip over herself as much when trying to please.
“This young man is in need of some clothes. His name is Remus Lupin, he's a first year Gryffindor. You'll find his trunk in his dormitory,” she instructed the elf, who simply nodded and disappeared again. “Do you feel well enough to sit up?” she asked Lupin and he nodded before pushing himself into a sitting position with his back to the table and pulled the robe over himself like a blanket again.
“Professor? Thank you,” he said quietly and pulled his knees up to his chest.
“You're welcome,” she answered and picked up the ruined shoes again. She had a quick look over them to see if all of them were there, and it seemed even the laces were present, then performed a silent Reparo on them both. Lupin accepted them quietly and sat cradling them to his chest while they waited for the return of the house-elf.
Once the clothes had been delivered, McGonagall stepped back into the hallway to give him some privacy for dressing, but when the rustling of clothes had stopped for over a minute she turned back to see him kneeling awkwardly and struggling with tying his shoes. She pointed her wand at his feet and the laces quickly tied themselves in even bows and he slowly stood up again, curling and uncurling his fingers.
“Is something the matter?” she asked.
“My fingers are just a bit stiff,” he muttered without looking at her and picked up his robe.
“Are they cold?” Without waiting for an answer she cast a heating charm on him despite the wool jumper he was wearing. “Come, Madam Pomfrey will be waiting for you.”
She shepherded him in front of her through the tunnel, holding her lit wand high, but she didn't think the few times he stumbled were due to lack of light. At the end of the tunnel she disarmed the tree with a quick spell and gave him a push up as he scrambled out of the hole. Gathering up her own robes she hoisted herself out, wondering why the headmaster couldn't have contrived a slightly easier way in and out.
The sky was a pale blue with a thin cloud here and there as they walked back to the castle and she raised her hand in recognition as a large figure waved from the doorstep of the groundkeeper’s cabin. Hagrid didn't know what had transpired in the night, and she really preferred if he didn't find out.
It was too early for most of the inhabitants of the castle to be up and about, but the few students who were cast curious glances at them, wondering what McGonagall wanted with a first year student before breakfast, quickly decided not to think of it after a sharp look from the Transfiguration teacher.
By the time they entered the hospital wing Lupin was barely keeping on his feet and swayed when she motioned for him to wait while she got Madam Pomfrey. A bed was already ready for him and the matron tucked him in before measuring out a spoonful relaxing potion. McGonagall doubted the boy needed help sleeping, but she wasn't the Healer.
“You're a brave, young man,” she told him, standing at the foot of the bed. “Don't let anyone make you think any different.” His eyes were already about to fall shut, but he gave her a small thankful smile before he was off to dreamland.