Professor Lupin's Apprentice

XIII: Potions and Peer Pressure

The only reservation I had about starting at Hogwarts was what would happen to my business in the meantime. The boarding house did practically run itself, but I liked to be around in case something happened. When Remus asked if I trusted him to look after things during the day, I was touched, and I took him up on his offer. Surprisingly, he proved to have as much a head for business as I had for magic. During my first term, when I'd come home from my classes, I'd ask him what he'd done during the day, and whatever decisions he made were as good, if not better, than what I would have done. After my first term, I no longer felt the need to ask.

When Monday morning rolled around, newly affianced and happy as a clam, I set out for my first day of school. At first, none of the other Hogwarts students quite knew what to think of me. Some assumed I was a new professor, although there were no vacancies left to be filled two days into term. They then realised I was a student, and I received every reaction from giggles to awe to gibes—mostly from the blond boy, Draco Malfoy, and his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, whom Remus and I had run into the previous Saturday.

The staff didn't seem to know what to make of me, either. The headmaster had told them all about my enrolment and, as far as I knew, there were no objections. I had no clue how much of the actual story Dumbledore had told them, but I assumed—from one Professor's reaction in particular—that Remus' name was never mentioned. The Professor in question was, of course, Severus Snape. Considering Snape's feelings about Remus, I hoped Malfoy wouldn't squeal. As Snape was the head of Slytherin House, and I'd divined Malfoy was a Slytherin, this fear hung over my head constantly. Not out of any fear for myself (the man could hate me all he wanted for all I cared), but for Remus' sake.

Surprisingly, Professor Snape didn't despise me, even though I was a Gryffindor. In fact, he rather seemed to like me, but I was certain this would change when he discovered I was engaged to Remus. I hoped I could keep my relationship with Remus secret indefinitely, as I would undoubtedly need Professor Snape's guidance in learning to prepare the Wolfsbane Potion my fiancé needed every full moon.

This was quite ambitious of me. If the Sorting Hat had known, I would have been made a Slytherin for sure, but I came up with the idea later. With careful study and love for motivation, I thought I might be able to accomplish that task. Of course, I neglected to tell Remus what I was planning. That was between the headmaster and me. Contingent upon my first term Potions marks, Dumbledore agreed to request Snape teach me to make the potion. I sincerely didn't want Remus to know, in case I turned out to be as bad as he in Potions class. As it happened, I was quite good.

In Potions class, I never held up my hand when Professor Snape asked a question but, when he called on me, without fail I had the correct answer at the ready. I assume this earned his respect, although not that of the students in his House. The Slytherins with whom we Gryffindors had Potions grew to actively dislike me quickly and began to circulate all manner of gossip as to why he seemed to favour me. The whispers only escalated as the term wore on, and began with a new fervour after the Christmas break when it was discovered Professor Snape had given me the highest marks on my exam that he had ever given a student. The most amusing of the rumours were that I was his long-lost sister, as we shared black hair and dark eyes, and—even more laughably—that I was his lover.

A little over one month into the beginning of my second term at Hogwarts, when Professor Snape asked to speak to me privately after Potions class, I thought little enough of the request. Slytherins scowled all around me, but I shrugged off their cold stares as I hefted my bag and followed him to the recessed room at the back of the dungeon that served as his office. I'd been in Snape's office many times during the previous term and had seen all his pickled animal bits, which he liked to show off entirely too much in my opinion. We'd even had some interesting conversations regarding potion ingredients and theories. I didn't consider him a friend or mentor by any stretch of the imagination, nor would I call him warm, but we shared a subdued mutual respect. I respected his knowledge of Potions, and he apparently respected my caring enough about his subject to put in extra work.

"I assume you've heard the rumours as to why I seem to favour you over other Potions students," he began, sitting as his desk and waving me into the chair opposite.

"Yes, I have," I replied, pulling my satchel into my lap as I sat. "Quite creative, some of them."

"Do they bother you?" His expression was unreadable—suspiciously so.

"I think I'm a little old to be bothered by the machinations of jealous schoolchildren, Professor Snape, " I said, dismissing the notion with a wave.

His mouth slowly curved into what I considered one of the few true smiles I've ever seen on the man's face. I began to think Remus had been wrong about him. Certainly he was exacting with the students. As far as I could tell, however, Potions was an exact science, and an extreme amount of precision was called for. I remembered many chemistry and mathematics instructors I'd had before who were just as stringent as he, and I'd enjoyed their classes all the more for their severity. All these thoughts went through my head in an instant and I decided, for the time being, to give Professor Snape the benefit of the doubt. I found myself returning his smile, without any hint of self-consciousness.

"Well, your final exam didn't help matters much," he said, with a peculiarly cheerful glint in his coal-black eyes, although his smile had vanished. "I went over your paper no less than ten times looking for trifles for which I could penalise you, and there were none to be found."

"You flatter me, sir."

"You'll find I never flatter anyone, Miss Rhoades. You appear to be the best Potions student who has ever entered my dungeon. So when I received a request from the headmaster to begin giving you extra instruction in preparing a ... difficult potion, I was pleased to accept the charge."

"What potion is that, sir?" I asked, trying not to sound as excited as I felt.

"I understand you have a family member who is a werewolf?" he asked, with an inquisitively raised eyebrow.

"Yes. A dear nephew," I said, repeating the lie I had pre-arranged with Dumbledore.

"And you are aware there is a potion that is an effective treatment?"

I nodded. "Unfortunately, there aren't many wizards who can prepare the Wolfsbane Potion."

"Well, you happen to be taking Potions from one who can," Snape said, looking rather smug. "Rarely after one term do I have such confidence in a student, but you have proven yourself quite exceptional. I believe first-year Gryffindors have Thursday afternoons free, so I will expect you here every Thursday at one without fail. We'll see what we can do for your nephew." He then scribbled something on a scrap of parchment, which he handed to me.

"Thank you, Professor Snape," I said, accepting the note and rising.

With a nod and jerk of his head toward the office door, he indicated I was dismissed. Outside the dungeon, I glanced at the piece of parchment. It was a pass for the library's restricted section. Apparently, Professor Snape expected my previous example of outside of class preparation to continue. Nodding with satisfaction, I realised his confidence was genuine. Then I realised I was late. I had to run to make my next class: Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. She shot me a stern look over her square spectacles when I showed up one minute after the bell and asked to speak to me after class, as well.

After class, I explained important business with Professor Snape, at the headmaster's request, kept me. Even when I showed her the library pass Snape had given me, she looked doubtful, although I wasn't sure if it was my tardiness or a Gryffindor having more than the usual dealings with Snape that concerned her. I had the impression that, if Dumbledore confirmed my story, I'd be off the hook. Of course, I knew he would, so I sighed and headed off for Charms with Professor Flitwick. After that it was time for lunch, and then I went to the library to make ready for my first private session with Professor Snape before heading home.

"You're the new girl?"

I don't know how long I'd been engrossed in restricted Potions texts when he spoke, although my stomach grumbled mercilessly. As I looked up, I saw three students, about sixteen, looking down at me. The one who spoke was a boy with unkempt black hair, piercing green eyes, and a lightening-shaped scar on his forehead. Hovering behind him were a lanky, redheaded boy and an intelligent-looking girl with bushy brown hair.

I smiled. "Well, I haven't been a girl for a while, I'm afraid, but yes. I'm Melinda Rhoades. You must be Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger?"

They nodded.

"Moony has told me some wonderful things about the three of you."

"You know Professor Lupin?" Harry asked, his eyes growing wide.

"I would hope so," I said, giggling. "We are engaged, after all."

"B-b-but—" Hermione stammered.

"Yes, Hermione, I know he's a werewolf."

"And that doesn't bother you?" Ron asked.

"Funny, I wouldn't have pegged you as a bigot, Ron," I said, "since your best friends are a Muggle-raised boy and a Muggle-born girl." Ron flushed a deep crimson, and Hermione sported a satisfied grin. "As long as Remus takes the Wolfsbane Potion, he's perfectly safe. Professor Snape is still graciously supplying it to him for now, but as Potions seems to be my best subject, I think I may be able to take over eventually. That would be nice, since it would allow us a little more freedom. We wouldn't be tied to coming back to Hogwarts for a week of every month. And Professor Snape will be kindly giving me extra instruction on the preparation of that particular potion at the headmaster's request."

Harry looked dubious. "Kindly? We can't be talking about the same Professor Snape?"

"I know there's no love lost between the two of you, Harry, but Professor Snape is not an evil man, despite what you may think. He will always come through in a pinch. And I'm sure he doesn't want Remus to hurt anyone any more than Remus wants that."

The boy looked sullen after my rebuff.

"I'm sorry, Harry," I said, quickly. "I didn't mean to—"

"No, it's okay," he said with a wave that reminded me of Remus. "How is he?"

"He's fine."

"Will you send him my best?" Hermione elbowed him, and he added, "Our best?"

"I can do better than that," I answered, smiling. "Would you like to see him? We can meet you in the Shrieking Shack." Ron looked uncertain until I added, "The full moon is still ten days away."

"How do you know that off the top of your head?" he asked incredulously.

"Are you serious, Ron? We make our every plan by the lunar calendar."

"That would be nice," Harry said. "When?"

"Tonight? Say, eightish?" I asked, and three teenaged heads nodded.

Remus was thrilled they wanted to see him, although he was fidgety with nerves. He'd explained the events leading up to Sirius' escape from the dementors at Hogwarts, and he still felt terrible about that night. If he'd remembered his potion, Sirius would be a free man now. In addition, he could have bitten any one of the children, which is why he felt compelled to resign. Padfoot didn't hold a grudge, he knew—after all he'd since agreed be the best man at our wedding—but Remus wasn't so sure Harry could forgive him, and he didn't think Ron could ever forgive him just for being a werewolf at all.

We made the Whomping Willow by a quarter of eight, prodded the knot, and continued down the passage to the Shrieking Shack, waiting patiently for the children to arrive. I waited patiently, that is. Remus paced—stirring small clouds of dust with his feet—until I was weary merely from watching him. When the door opened, apparently by itself, I was startled.

"I thought you said this place wasn't haunted," I whispered.

"It isn't," Remus answered, pointing toward the door. "Watch."

Three teenagers appeared in front of us, growing from their feet up as they lifted what looked like liquid silver off their collective heads. Much to Remus' relief, Harry came forward and embraced him. Hermione shook his hand warmly, but Ron hung back, looking hesitant.

"He has a sickness, Ron," I said gently, "nothing more." The boy started when I added, "And it isn't catching."

Ron stepped forward, slowly extending his hand, which Remus shook.

"It's nice to see you all again," Remus said.

Harry beamed a great smile. "How have you been?"

"I've had some rough spots, but my life couldn't be better now. Did Melinda tell you we're engaged?" They nodded as Remus sat next to me on the bed, putting his arm around me. The children sat cross-legged on the floor. "We're trying to keep that a secret, from Professor Snape at least for the time being, so mum's the word, eh?" They nodded again. "And you're all invited to the wedding, of course. Last Saturday in August at two o'clock in Boar's Point. It's not too far from Hogsmeade. I'll send you maps by owl."

Harry sniggered at that.

"Am I missing something?" I asked.

"Professor Lupin, or should I say Mr Moony, is very good at cartography," Harry said.

Remus smiled. "Do you have it with you, Harry?"

"How do you think we got out of the castle tonight?" Harry stood, pulling an old piece of parchment out of his robes, which he handed to me.

"It doesn't look like a map," I said.

"Well, looks can be deceiving," Remus said with a smirk.

"How does it work?" I asked.

Ron smiled. "You tap it with your wand and say, 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good'."

"The Marauder's Map will accept almost any phrase," Remus explained, "as long as you vow to do something untoward. In fact, you only need say two words, in either order. The only problem is vocabulary. It only recognises English, although we programmed it with as many synonyms for an oath and troublemaking as we could find. Went through every thesaurus in the library."

"You're kidding, right?" I asked.

Remus shook his head. "No, that's how it works. Now, watch carefully." He tapped the parchment with his wand. "Ne'er-do-well ... promise." Writing suddenly spread all over the parchment from the point his wand had touched outward. In addition, small dots with names above them wandered about the page.

"That's incredible! You did this as a child?"

"Sixteen, but yes. The tricky part is clearing it. Only one phrase works for that."

"How?"

"You want to show her, Harry?"

Harry smiled and tapped the parchment with his wand. "Mischief managed." The writing cleared immediately.

"Why would you make so many phrases for activating it," I asked, "but only one for clearing it?"

"That was our way of getting unworthy people in trouble," Remus said.

"Moony, now that's just mean," I said.

"I know," Remus said, sighing. "My conscience was a tad underdeveloped when I was younger." He turned back toward the children. "By the way, I was sorry to hear about Cedric Diggory—poor boy. And Mad-Eye Moody. If he weren't paranoid enough before, being locked in his own trunk all that time must have driven him over the edge." They nodded solemnly, but then Ron sniggered at which Remus raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Well, at least one good thing came of it," Ron said, his eyes full of mischievous glee. "Crouch turned Draco Malfoy into an albino ferret and bounced him all over."

"Oh!" Remus gasped. "I would have loved to have seen that!"

"Remus!" I admonished.

"She only calls me 'Remus' when I'm in trouble," he explained to the children. Then he turned to me. "Draco Malfoy is a spoiled little git! A complete waste of space," he grumbled.

"Well, I can't say I completely disagree, but you used to be a teacher. You shouldn't speak badly of a student in front of other students."

"What if I say something nice about him to recompense?" he asked with a wry grin. "Would that satisfy you?"

I nodded slowly. "It might, at that."

He thought for a moment, then smiled. "There is one quality I admire more in Draco Malfoy than in any other Hogwarts student."

"What?" the remainder of us asked, with varying degrees of surprise.

"His absence," Remus said, turning toward me with a wide grin. Harry, Hermione and Ron tittered, but I glared.

"Remus!"

"All right, all right. What if I say something nice about these three instead?"

"It couldn't hurt," I replied with a shrug and a sigh.

"Well, let's start with Harry. The great Harry Potter—'the boy who lived.' He's famous, you know. But what I like most about Harry has nothing to do with his fame. He's practical, wise, and brave. And one excellent Seeker, just like his father."

Harry beamed.

"Hermione Granger ... Well, Hermione's the one who found me out."

Remus smiled, but Hermione stared at her lap, blushing. She apparently saw this as a backhanded compliment, at best.

"She's quite clever, Melinda," Remus added. "Reminds me of you, actually."

Only then did Hermione smile.

"And Ron..."

Ron looked up with fear in his eyes, as if he were about to be judged harshly.

"Ron Weasley has the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met. I know them fairly well so I can say without hesitation he gets that from his parents. I imagine he's capable of forgiving anyone their trespasses ... as long as he knows they are truly sorry."

Gulping, Ron wiped his eyes. He then nodded and Remus smiled, his eyes a bit misty as well.

"Well, you three should probably be getting back before you're missed," Remus said. "We'll talk more later, I promise."

They rose and said good-bye.

"Oh, and Harry?" Remus said, when they were preparing to crawl back under Harry's Invisibility Cloak.

"Yes, Professor Lupin?" Harry asked.

"All of you, please—call me Remus now, or Moony. Your choice. Harry, Sirius is planning to be my best man—in disguise, of course—so you might want to make a point to attend the wedding."

"I was going to make every effort anyhow," Harry said, smiling, "but now I'm certain I'll be there."