Chapter 112. The Past
When Wade stepped out of the fireplace at The Leaky Cauldron, Remus Lupin was already waiting for him.
Compared to their first meeting, the man looked significantly better. He wore a deep blue wizarding robe—no longer patched together from scraps—and the deep lines of sorrow and exhaustion had faded considerably, replaced by the quiet steadiness and quiet melancholy of someone shaped by time.
Such a man was undeniably magnetic. Wade noticed several young witches glancing at him with subtle curiosity.
Remus Lupin ignored their stares. Upon seeing Wade, he smiled warmly and stepped forward. “Long time no see, Wade.”
Over the past half-year, their meetings had been few and far between, yet daily magical tutoring continued without interruption. Through correspondence, Remus had grown intimately familiar with Wade.
Though young, he lacked the common flaws of ordinary children—laziness, impulsiveness, childishness, restlessness. Instead, he possessed a clear goal and an extraordinary focus, constantly learning, growing, radiating an ambitious spirit. He was also adept at listening and expressing his thoughts, yet remained fiercely independent and unwilling to conform.
To those around him, he was trustworthy and respectful, capable of empathy for others’ struggles. He treated Remus with the same respect he gave to school professors—not out of obligation, but because he genuinely valued the man, never becoming arrogant simply because Remus was paid.
Throughout his years of wandering, Remus had encountered many employers, some of whom held the mindset that “I paid you, so you’re my dog”—eager to exploit every last ounce of their employee’s worth.
So now, his regard for Wade had risen to near-admiration. The only obstacle was his own identity as a werewolf.
He didn’t know whether Wade had realized from the beginning that he was a werewolf.
“Remus,” Wade greeted. “Sorry to call you out of nowhere—did I disturb you?”
Remus chuckled. “Not at all. I haven’t had much to do lately… What’s happened?”
“You know, I’m Harry’s classmate. We’re on decent terms,” Wade said plainly. “Since the holidays started, he’s cut off contact with all his friends. Everyone’s worried. I thought I’d go check on him—”
The moment Harry’s name was spoken, Remus’s expression shifted—subtle, almost imperceptible. A flicker of daze, then pain.
Wade watched him closely. “I heard Harry’s parents were your friends back in school. I thought maybe you’d be willing to help…”
His voice faltered slightly. “If it’s too much trouble for you, I’ll just let it go. I’m sure Harry’s fine—otherwise Dumbledore would’ve stepped in by now.”
Remus’s face had turned pale, as if someone had poured a spoonful of ice water into his ear.
“…No… not at all,” Remus said slowly. “I want to go see him… I just… I don’t know if I should approach…”
His expression was dazed.
“Then go,” Wade said. “Who has the right to stop you from caring for an old friend’s orphan? Especially if he might need help now.”
The word orphan struck Remus like a needle. His face flushed instantly.
“You’re right… I should’ve gone sooner… I should’ve gone long ago.”
With renewed determination, Remus made no further hesitation. The two departed.
To avoid drawing attention, they changed into ordinary Muggle clothing. They took the subway first, then a taxi to Surrey’s Little Whinging.
They got off at Privet Drive, staring at the row of identical houses stretching down the street.
“Wade,” Remus asked, “do you know where Harry lives?”
Wade studied a house number on the curb. “Should be around here. His uncle’s last name is Dursley.”
“Dursley… I remember him—Fernon Dursley, Lily’s husband. He was at her wedding with James.”
Remus frowned, his voice laced with disdain. “—A crude, violent fool.”
“—What happened?” Wade asked, genuinely surprised.
In his mind, James Potter had been the classic school bully, surrounded by loyal followers. A Muggle like Fernon Dursley should’ve been nothing but a victim—laughed at, humiliated, powerless.
But Remus’s reaction wasn’t that of someone who’d witnessed a petty prank. It was as if he had been the one tormented.
Remus took a deep breath. “He was the worst Muggle I’ve ever met. The first time I met him was at the wedding. He looked down his nose and asked James what kind of car he drove. James told him he had a racing broomstick…”
The memory brought a visible ache to his voice.
“Then that man—Fernon Dursley—shouted that wizards were just poor, unemployed beggars living off welfare.”
“James told him he had a fortune in Gringotts Wizarding Bank. He didn’t understand what Gringotts was—thought James was mocking him—and he stormed out with his wife, leaving Lily in tears.”
Remus gave a bitter smile. “You don’t know… James would do anything for Lily. He promised her he’d reconcile with Fernon as soon as possible. But their attitude… Can you understand? To them, we were all just strange, unnatural freaks.”
Wade understood instantly. There had been more conflict afterward—something worse.
“I should’ve come sooner… I didn’t know he’d been entrusted to the Dursley couple,” Remus said, heavy with guilt. “I should’ve realized… They were his only relatives…”
“But given your circumstances back then,” Wade interrupted abruptly, “you probably couldn’t have raised a child properly anyway.”
They reached the curb.
Both looked at the house across the street.
It was a perfect copy of its neighbors—gray roof tiles, weathered brickwork, identical in every detail. The courtyard held a car. The garden was neat and tidy.
An ordinary house. An ordinary life. Nothing special.
The living room windows were closed. No sign of anyone inside.
The sun had set. Faint light seeped through the glass. Remus suddenly squinted.
“Look at that window, Wade,” he said. “Does the shadow look… odd?”
Wade studied the long, rectangular shadows crossing the glass. “It looks like something’s blocking it from the inside.”
“Good,” Remus said, voice cold. “Now we know why Harry can’t communicate.”
“Stay calm,” Wade warned. “Using magic around Muggles is illegal.”
The Dursleys had a minor witch in their family—revealing magic to them wouldn’t violate the Confidentiality Act. But using magic against them? That was a full-blown felony.
The Ministry of Magic was notoriously ambiguous in enforcement. Sometimes, even after breaking the law, if damage was contained—witnesses Obliviated—the case was dropped. Other times, the same act led to imprisonment in Azkaban.
Hagrid had once turned Dudley into a pig with a tail. By law, that should’ve landed him in prison. But Dumbledore had covered it up.
And if Remus were caught? Given his werewolf status, the law would apply with far harsher standards.
“I understand,” Remus said, grinding his teeth, suppressing the anger on his face. He rang the doorbell.
(End of Chapter)
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