Four To The End (prev Shifting Lines) Book Three (Marauders Era)

Chapter Ninety-One - The Toilet Lid Incident

Author's Note: CW ableism

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Remus was unable to go to Potions or History of Magic on Friday morning, since the sun didn't rise until eight, even though there were clouds covering the moon all night and he didn't transform; two months in a row with no transformation. He wasn't sure if he was lucky or that meant the next one would be really bad. Pomfrey showed up a little after eight to get him, and they didn't get back to Hogwarts until after History began. Since there was a free period after History, Remus was able to take a nap and eat breakfast before Defense started. The other Marauders were waiting outside the door so they could all give Remus hugs, which made him feel good.

"I've got amazing news," James whispered as they headed into class. "You have to say yes."

That was all he got to say before Charlemagne started, and Remus just hoped it wasn't a wild prank or anything bad. 'Amazing' to James could mean all sorts of things ranging from minor inconvenience to potentially life-threatening. After class, however, Charlemagne asked Remus to stay behind so whatever the news was would have to wait a little longer. After everyone left, Charlemagne shut the door and indicated for Remus to come closer.

"I wanted to know how you are feeling," he said, linking his fingers together as he propped his elbows on his desk. "You seemed quite... hmm... unfocused on Wednesday. Did... things go well the past two evenings?"

Remus felt strange to be asked about the full moon from Charlemagne. "Yes sir," he mumbled, tugging at the strap of his satchel with his thumb. "I'm sorry about Wednesday, I was quite tired. I hope I didn't cause any issue."

"Non, non!" Charlemagne shook his head. "There is no problem at all! I was merely asking because of concern. I am glad you are feeling well." He smiled before drawing in another breath. "I also want to thank you, for all the work you have done with Jean-Marie. His English has become very good. His grades here now match what they were at Beaxbatons, and it is due to your help."

He felt his cheeks going warm. "Thank you."

"In addition, I wish to speak to you about your own grades in my class."

"Have I done—did I mess—did I get something wrong?" he stammered, suddenly fearful. Did he forget to turn an assignment in?

Charlemagne held up his hand. "Do not worry yourself. It is the opposite. You are, without any doubt, the smartest one in your year when it comes to what I teach." He pulled several sheets of parchment out as well as scrolls; all of them with Remus's handwriting. "You are... what is the word... meticulous? You clearly have a deep well of knowledge within you of the... ahh... con... contents... no. Curriculum. Yes."

"Thank you, sir," he whispered, not sure what to do with this praise. Or where it was going.

"I was wondering if perhaps you would be interested in next year helping me?"

Every inch of his body froze at the question and he was sure he heard wrong. Him? Help a teacher?

"With tutoring and aiding younger students if need be," Charlemagne explained. "If you were a seventh year student, I would ask you to become my teaching assistant."

It felt like his guts were being squashed together, and it took a moment for him to realize he needed to breathe. He felt dizzy and confused—more than confused. He knew sometimes a student was brought on as an assistant. Binns had two every year to help with the physical part of his job. Sprout usually had one, and this year Spring had started using one to help with the first years. He had never thought about becoming one himself, especially for a teacher who knew his secret. Especially-especially for a teacher who was clearly not very comfortable with his curse, like Charlemagne.