𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙴𝚃𝙰𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙿𝙷

8 - EIGHT - 8

     THE SCHOOL TALKED of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder; Crazy rumors were spreading pretty quickly.

The Fat Lady's ripped canvas had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat gray pony. Nobody was very happy about this. Sir Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords, which he changed atleast twice a day

"He's a complete lunatic," said Seamus Finnigan angrily to Percy. "Can't we get anyone else?" 

"None of the other pictures wanted the job," said Percy. "Frightened of what happened to the Fat Lady. Sir Cadogan was the only one brave enough to volunteer."

(Y/N), Ron and Hermione were already sitting in their Defense Against the Dark Arts class, waiting for Harry. Much to their dismay, Professor Lupin wasn't taking today's session, it was Snape substituting for him. 

"Sorry I'm late, Professor Lupin, I —" apologized Harry as he dashed into the classroom. He stopped when he realized it was Snape instead of Lupin. 

"This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down."

But Harry didn't move. "Where's Professor Lupin?" he said. 

"He says he is feeling too ill to teach today," said Snape with a twisted smile. "I believe I told you to sit down?" 

But Harry stayed where he was. "What's wrong with him?"

Snape's black eyes glittered. "Nothing life-threatening," he said, looking as though he wished it were. "Five more points from Gryffindor, and if I have to ask you to sit down again, it will be fifty."

Harry walked slowly to his seat and sat down next to (Y/N). Snape looked around at the class.

"As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far —" 

"Please, sir, we've done boggarts, Red Caps, kappas, and grindylows," said Hermione quickly, "and we're just about to start —"

"Be quiet," said Snape coldly. "I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organization."

"I'd love to comment on your lack of personal hygiene, ever heard of shampoo, you greasy git?" (Y/N) muttered as she clenched her fist, and Harry snickered. Nevertheless, he held her hand comfortingly to make sure she didn't do anything irrational that would get her into trouble. 

"He's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had," said Dean boldly, and there was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the class. Snape looked more menacing than ever.

"You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly overtaxing you — I would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and grindylows. Today we shall discuss —"

Harry watched him flick through the textbook, to the very back chapter, which he must know they hadn't covered.

"— werewolves," said Snape. 

The moment he said that, (Y/N) felt enraged. 

"This bastard, he's doing it on purpose, I know it!" she whispered in an angry tone. 

"(Y/N), calm down," he squeezed her hand gently, "What are you talking about?"

"But, sir," said Hermione, seemingly unable to restrain herself, "we're not supposed to do werewolves yet, we're due to start hinkypunks —"