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?"
"Erm... Maybe not that, but it is quite fascinating." With tentacles, tiny sharp teeth that didn't quite fit their mouth, and beady eyes that seemed to hate you at first glance, I think only Hagrid would find them something worth looking at.
There was a knock at the door, to which Professor Lupin answered, "Come in," and Snape entered, his brows raising at my presence, his look unreadable. "Miss Griffin..."
"I was showing her my grindylow. She has interests in similar things as Rubeus, as you can see."
"Indeed," Snape enunciated.
He handed Professor Lupin a goblet with blue smoke rising from it and, without a second thought, he chugged it down and made a face. "Never tastes any better, does it?"
Snape gave me another unreadable look before exiting the room, his cloak dramatically waving behind him as it usually does.
"So, as I've heard that you hate small talk-" apparently many of my traits have already been told to him, "-what do you think of my identity as a werewolf?"
"Wow, nothing about this crazy weather we're having? That cloud definitely moved an inch right now."
He glanced out the window and laughed. "Yes, it is quite demented outside." His bright smile faded and he gave me an expectant look. Alas, I seemed to have failed to change the subject. "Were you afraid?"
"At first," I mumbled, guiltily. "But, I doubt that you walked up to a werewolf and asked them to bite you, so I didn't think it was too much of an issue after more thought. Besides, your Boggart was a full moon, so clearly you don't like it much either."
Warmth filled his face and he placed his hand on my shoulder. "Nothing against me?"
"No. Nothing against me?"
"I think it's rather immature to have something against a student."
He should tell that to Snape.
"I have one other question."
"Ask away."
"Where does the opening under the Whomping Willow lead to?"
His brows raised. "You know a bit more than I thought you did." He sighed. "You know the Shrieking Shack?"
"That haunted building in Hogsmeade?"
"Yes, that one. That is where the opening leads. It was built for me back in-"
"1971..." My eyes widened. "The reason people think it's haunted is because of you, isn't it?"
He blinked a few times. "Yes... You're a lot more intelligent than people give you credit for, you know?"
People give me credit for a lot of intelligence, actually. It is just more surprising when I blurt things out because that was more Hermione's thing. Her brain worked much quicker than mine, while I needed to go from point A, to point B, wonder about why point A existed in the first place, then to the answer.
I laughed dryly. "I guess?"
"By the way, when it's not in use by me, feel free to use the Shrieking Shack for your personal activities." He winked. "I'm sure you know how to get in by now?"
•••
I followed the crowd to Hogsmeade, my mind admittedly straying to the thought of going to the Shrieking Shack and seeing how it looks within.
My feet still managed to drag me to the fence that separated it from the village, though.
"Why are you always curious about the most dangerous things?" Neville questioned as he followed me towards the fence.
"What, you want me to be curious about how grass grows? The dangerous things are the interesting things."
I sat down in the yellowing grass and opened a box of chocolate frogs, quickly stabbing it before it could run off. Neville hesitantly sat beside me, his eyes on the sort-of-murdered frog.
"You make it seem like it wasn't made out of chocolate," I said, placing a piece of it in my mouth.
"Still, it's a bit... scary when you so absent-mindedly stab it like that."
"Think of it this way: if someone were to attack me, I have experience in stabbing."
"That's not reassuring."
I giggled and ate another piece of chocolate before hearing someone stepping on the dried up leaves scattered on the dirt. "Hey Draco."
"Hi." He sat down on the other side of me and I could sense him glaring at Neville.
Neville and Draco are well aware of each other, but not in the way that I'd prefer. Draco was quite the pain in first year for Neville, though thankfully he seems to have backed off now. Neville, however, was still scared witless every time he saw him.
Crabbe and Goyle, who seemed unable to go anywhere without Draco, remained standing as if they were bodyguards.
"That's barbaric," Draco said, staring at the quill that stuck out of the chocolate frog in the box. It was an unused one I had previously planned on using before Neville gifted me one.
I shrugged and placed another piece of chocolate in my mouth. What, do people really expect me to pay for something called chocolate frogs and only want the piece of cardboard inside?
"Why are you even here?" Draco questioned, taking a piece of chocolate.
"There's a haunted building, why wouldn't I be here?"
Neville gave me a look riddled with concern and interest at the same time.
We sat for a while longer, with Neville finally forgetting that I "murdered" the chocolate frog and taking a piece. After a while, the sound of someone howling came from the Shrieking Shack.
"What was that?" Draco stood immediately with his face going pale.
My brow furrowed. "That's... a good question."
"Y/N." Neville stood as well, a clear indication that he didn't have the urge to investigate it.
I squinted as if I'd be able to see through the broken windows of the building. Professor Lupin shouldn't have been within the shack at the time; the full moon was already over.
"We should go," Neville said, pulling me to my feet.
I nodded reluctantly and followed him and Draco back to the village.
•••
During the Halloween feast, my eyes went to the teacher's table where Professor Lupin sat. While looking a bit worse for wear, he was there, so it couldn't have been him howling.
"What's the matter?" Cho asked with her brows knit together.
"Nothing."
After the feast was over, we were led to Ravenclaw Tower by our prefect.
Before anyone could get a good enough sleep, we were called back to the Great Hall.
"What happened?" Morag asked, rubbing her eye and holding my shirt like a child.
"Not sure." I noticed all the other houses being led to the Great Hall by their prefects - all of them except for Gryffindor.
When we got to the Great Hall, I went to Professor Lupin, who stood with his face twisted like he just saw a monster under his bed. "What happened?"
He sighed and leaned next to my ear. "Sirius Black found a way to get into Hogwarts."
My eyes widened. "But all the entrances are guarded by Demen-" I stopped. The howling from the Shrieking Shack.
It might have been some crazed human - for the record, I'm only insane, not crazy, there's a difference.
"Tuck into your sleeping bag," Professor Lupin urged.
I buried myself within the blankets but couldn't quite find comfort in the artificial stars that were bewitched on the ceiling. I thought about the gentle-faced boy I found in the student record.
Turns out a lot can be hidden.