Another snowy day, the kind where the flakes just keep coming.
A few owls battled through the howling wind to deliver the mail.
The Great Hall was toasty with roaring fires, but the corridors were freezing; drafts whipped through like knives, and every classroom window rattled like it was about to shatter.
Bai hadn't sent Sean a letter in ages. Today, though, the owl swooped down from the enchanted ceiling, landed on Sean's shoulder, and dropped a note right onto his plate.
[The bookshop renovation is complete. Please settle the final payment.]
It was from Green's Books.
That meant Professor Lupin would be moving in soon.
Sean's Marauder's Map floated up on its own. A little red exclamation mark was flashing over "Hogsmeade."
Justin got the exact same owl at the exact same moment. He glanced at Sean, who gave a quick nod.
"It's Sunday…" Justin said with a warm smile. "When do we head out?"
"Now," Sean answered.
With a flick of his wand, a slim potions book slid neatly back into his Undetectable Extension bag. Thanks to the ridiculously roomy one Professor McGonagall had given him, Sean basically carried a portable library everywhere.
Lately he'd been wondering: did making an Undetectable Extension item count as high-level alchemy? In the Harry Potter world, that spell was seriously advanced.
They left the Great Hall, climbed the stairs, and turned down a hallway that was darker than usual. One of the window panes had come loose; a gust of icy wind blasted through and snuffed out half the torches.
"Hey, Sean," Justin said suddenly. He'd been carrying this quiet worry around for days. "I've been meaning to ask—about Mr. Lupin."
"Yeah?"
"He's obviously really talented. Your judgment's never wrong. But… why has his life been so rough?"
"He's a werewolf," Sean said simply.
Justin stopped dead. Outside, the blizzard seemed to roar even louder.
Then the corners of his mouth lifted.
All that worrying had been for nothing. The kid beside him might like keeping to himself, but whenever Justin actually asked, Sean always had the answer. It reminded him—they were in this together.
…
Hogsmeade was lit by those everlasting magical candles you see everywhere, glowing softly in every corner no matter how hard the snow fell.
A tired-looking man in a travel-worn cloak trudged through the snow, dragging an ancient suitcase behind him.
The regulars at the Three Broomsticks recognized him the second he pushed through the door. A few raised eyebrows, a couple of awkward glances.
He pulled his hood lower.
Everything about him was a weird mix: the robe underneath was actually high-quality, his boots polished to a shine, but the hat was ancient and the suitcase looked like it had been through a war. Anything he didn't strictly need to show off, he kept as cheap as possible.
He walked a little faster past the staring crowd.
A silver-white owl had delivered a letter earlier: the bookshop rooms were ready, and there was a contract attached.
The last line had practically knocked the wind out of him:
[Until Remus John Lupin finds permanent residence elsewhere and terminates employment, Green's Books grants indefinite housing rights.]
He folded the letter, a small smile tugging at his mouth.
He'd completely forgotten today was moving day.
Wizards usually throw a housewarming party when they move—something cheerful called a "warming the house."
The second Lupin stepped inside the shop:
Diagon Alley.
Manager Gert was actually taking it easy for once. Not far away, Sean and Justin had just come back from a shopping run.
"That's it? Ten whole minutes of breaking school rules just to grab groceries?" she teased.
"We're heading to Hogsmeade," Sean said.
"Fine, fine. Double pay makes me blind and deaf," Gert laughed, waving them off.
Three more figures appeared in the snowy street.
Walking through Hogsmeade always felt like stepping into a postcard. Honeydukes' front step was packed with laughing witches and wizards. Zonko's was bursting with little kids whose pockets bulged with Stink Pellets, Hiccup Sweets, Frog Spawn Soap, and probably a few Nose-Biting Teacups.
As Britain's only all-wizard village, the place drew tourists and Hogwarts students like moths to a flame.
Fun fact: the lady with the snack trolley on the Hogwarts Express? It's officially called the Honeydukes Express, because everything she sells comes straight from the Honeydukes estate right here.
They passed Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes (the new one) last.
The crowd outside was insane—kids waving Sickles and Galleons, trying to clear the shelves.
"New figure! Werewolf Knight!" one little kid shrieked in excitement.
"You pulled the super-rare one from the Weird Wizards Chess set?!" his friend gasped.
Instant chaos. Every kid under eleven swarmed, desperate for a look at the "Werewolf Knight."
They tore past Sean and Justin like a colorful tornado.
"Werewolf…" Justin murmured, hugging his fancy potion kit a little tighter.
A minute later the two of them reached Green's Books.
The shop was busy with customers. Sean and Justin headed straight upstairs.
On the second floor, a brand-new private flat was finished and glowing. Warm light and the smell of a crackling fire leaked through the crack under the door.
Through that crack, Sean caught a glimpse of a framed photo on the table. Even though he'd never met them, the younger version of Lupin in the picture made it obvious—those had to be his parents.
It stirred memories.
Remus John Lupin: calm, competent, kind, brilliant. Bitten by Fenrir Greyback as a child, forced to transform every full moon and lose himself to the beast.
But his father—who spent his life fighting dark wizards and werewolves—and his wise, gentle mother had raised him right. His childhood had been full of pain and loneliness, but their love kept him from ever sliding into darkness like Greyback and his pack.
Inside the flat, Lupin was already settling in.
He was used to silence. Used to being alone.
He couldn't even remember the last time he'd had a proper housewarming—because moving had never been something to celebrate. Every old place ended the same way: neighbors figured out what he was, and he had to disappear fast.
The only time he'd ever walked out of a house with his head high was the day Dumbledore came to take him to Hogwarts.
He still remembered that knock like it was yesterday.
"Hello, Remus. My name is Albus Dumbledore."
Snow had painted the bookshop windows white, with little melted rivulets running down the glass.
Right on cue, there was another knock at the door.
"Hello, Mr. Lupin. It's me—Sean Green."