Chapter Text
It was the day after the full moon when the woman arrived.
Remus, from his place in his bed, could hear his father arguing with her at the front door before it slammed shut.
Recently, his father's voice had been picking up more and more of Remus’ and his mam's Welsh tones, and it made him sound more garbled when he talked loudly, like he was then.
Remus’ mam, who he could hear bustling around in the sitting room below him, was by nature rather soft-spoken, so Remus had never gotten used to hearing anger in any Welsh voice but his own tired one. Hearing it in his father's half-posh accent now was strange to the eight year-old boy, to say the least.
There was a knock on Remus’ door, which was stranger yet. One, because his parents never knocked, and two, because his parents never bothered him the day after a full moon. They knew it was better not to try anything besides a plate of food and a potion for the pain at lunch and dinner.
Remus’ spent voice croaked, “Come in?” in a questioning sort of way.
The door opened with a creak, but neither his mam nor his father stood in the gap. Instead, there stood a tall, handsome woman with dark hair that was beginning to grey at the temples. (Remus had learned the word “handsome” from his teacher the previous week, and he was very proud of himself for using it correctly just then.)
The woman sat down at the end of Remus’ bed and said politely, “I'm Minerva McGonagall. You must be Remus Lupin?”
Remus nodded tentatively, though even that tiny movement made his bones ache.
“You go to Muggle school, don't you Remus?” the woman asked, making eye contact with Remus in a way his father hadn't in many years. Like she cared about him despite his illness, and not simply because of the memory of a boy three years gone.
Minerva McGonagall looked at Remus the same way his mam did.
Remus quietly answered, “Yes.” He went to school with people like his mother: magicless, Muggle. Remus liked words that started with ‘m.’ And Minerva McGonagall had two m's, which was infinitely better than one. Remus liked lots of words, but m-words and s-words were his absolute favorites. So many good things started with those letters: magic, story, mam, sweet, sugarcube, marmalade, stars…
So right away, Remus decided to like Ms. Minerva McGonagall, because she looked at him like his mam did, and she had two whole m's in her name, so she must be magnificent. (That was another word Remus had just learned, and he liked it ever so much, as it began with an ‘m.’)
Minerva looked down at the eight year-old boy now smiling sweetly at her—even though the effort made his jaw ache something terrible—and asked, “Do you enjoy school?”
“Yes,” came Remus’ prompt reply, “Very much.” Remus loved school, both because he almost always learned something new there, and because when he did, he could come straight home and tell it to his father, and his father would smile at him almost proudly.
Minerva smiled at him just then; a small smile, but it gave Remus almost as much joy as the hard-earned smile of his father. “Well then, Remus, how would like to come to my school when you turn eleven?”
Remus frowned a little, “Eleven is forever away,” he whined, voice cracking a little from overuse.
The woman laughed, “Yes, I suppose it seems that way for a boy of eight, but it'll pass in flash; I swear it.”
Remus’ eyes grew wide, “Mam says we're not to swear. Even if Tad (*Welsh for Dad*) does sometimes.”
This made the woman laugh again. Remus heard the movement stop below him. His mother seemed to have gotten distracted. “I promise it then,” Minerva corrected herself with a lingering smile, “Would you like to, Remus?”
After a moment of the thought (where Remus decidedly heard footsteps on the stairs) he nodded solemnly, “Yes Ms. Minne–Minner–Min–”
“How about Ms. Minnie?”
“Yes, Ms. Minnie.”
“Perfect.”
Remus’ door slammed open, making Remus jump painfully in his bed. His father was yelling at the woman in a moment's time, dragging her (not entirely unkindly) out of Remus’ room. Remus’ mam entered swiftly afterward and knelt by Remus’ bed, asking vague questions that didn't make much sense to Remus.
He was sad to see Ms. Minnie leaving—especially without saying goodbye—and he made that plenty clear to his mother with plaintive sobs that wracked his whole body with the aching pains of a full moon recovery.
Later, when Remus had calmed down and finally lay still and achy in his bed, his mam returned, sitting down on the bed next to him and wrapping him up in her bony arms.
“Remus your tad doesn't want you going to that woman's school,” she began softly, hesitantly, pressing a kiss to Remus’ brow.
Remus’ eyes threatened to fill with tears again, but he held back, waiting for what else his mam might say.
“I… I think it should be your decision. Do you want to go, my love?”
Remus nodded enthusiastically, bones throbbing with the movement.
“Okay. Then I want you to go too.” Remus’ mam kissed him again and hugged him close, and Remus snuggled into her as best he could. They stayed like that long after Remus dropped into sleep.