A Memorable Tale

23 | Werewolves Don't Like Smalltalk

The following Saturday, I sat in the library with a book on werewolves in my lap. For the most part, it seemed quite straightforward: a human is bitten and then they are to transform at every full moon.

"For the record, Miss Griffin, you can't own a werewolf as a pet."

I jumped and looked away from the pages to see Professor Lupin seated across from me, a friendly smile on his face. If it weren't for that smile, I would have believed that he was mad at me.

"Yes, I know," I mumbled, slowly closing the book. "They're people after all."

His expression softened when I said it. I didn't think much of my words at the time, but I think it was a breath of fresh air in comparison to the bigotry he likely faced in his life.

"Snape told me that you were suddenly interested in the species," he continued. "What started this?"

"It's hard to satisfy a Ravenclaw's curiosity, I'd say."

He chuckled as he said, "Yes, that's true."

My gaze went down to my feet, where my bag containing Hogwarts: 1971-1972 sat, then to the scars of Professor Lupin's face. His gaze on me, however, didn't waver.

"I'm told that you're good with animals," he said, changing the topic. He sat across from me, his hands folded on the table in front of him. "Do you have pets?"

I lit up and may as well have tossed the book on werewolves to the side. "I have three hippogriffs - my dad named them, though, so they have odd names: Gemini, Orion, and Apus. Apus is really old, but he still makes me bow when I want to ride him."

Remus chuckled. "Quite old-fashioned, is he?"

"Yeah, it's annoying sometimes. But he doesn't make my dad bow! I think he's just teasing me. I have three owls too, one for each family member: Dipper, Borealis, and Major."

"Were they Little Dipper and Minor when they were owlets?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"They seem to correlate with constellations."

"My dad got that idea. My two pegasi are Hercules and Perseus. Hercules is a bit of an oxymoron since he really can't carry a lot. Two people at the most, and that still really slows him down."

"That's quite brilliant." He looked down at my hands, perhaps noticing small scars from my hippogriffs pecking me or the way my finger bent a bit oddly from the way I hold my books.

My mind strayed to the Hogwarts record. I had searched the entire library but no where does it have a record of any other year, so, naturally, I assumed that the book wasn't from the library.

Someone wanted me to find out something about the school year of 1971-1972. Thus far, I've uncovered that a murderer and a werewolf came to school in that year, which is always fun.

But why someone would want me to figure it out was beyond me. I could learn a bit about that by asking my parents, I was sure.

As I gazed upon the presumed werewolf, I really couldn't see any difference from a normal human.

"Sir," I began steadily. "Do you know that..."

"Yes, I know that you are aware of my secret." He stood from his chair. "Come on. Snape told me that you were also curious about a certain potion."

I followed him through the halls and entered his office. "A grindylow!" I immediately noticed, kneeling down beside its tank.

"Do you find it cute?"