Remus Lupin and the Prisoner of Azkaban (#Wolfstar)

Chapter Eight- The Break In

Wordcount: 1527

On Halloween, not long after Harry Potter had left Remus Lupin's office, the Professor started feeling a bit odd. Not necessarily bad, it was more of a confusion. Confused by how relatively content he felt, careless even. Like the feeling of being slightly light-headed from laughing, even though he hadn't done as much as chuckle. This wasn't the wolfbane potion, so what was it?

Remus shook his head at himself. Perhaps he was going mad, who knew. Or maybe he should skip the feast; full moon was close, his restlessness kept him from concentrating on work. But something told him he shouldn't miss the feast. He felt as if it was going to be important. By Merlin, what was it with him and feelings at the moment.

The Professor decided to head down to the feast early, hoping to find a distraction.

Some students and teachers were already there, even though there still were twenty minutes time.

He took his seat at the teachers' table and started lightly chatting with Professor Hooch while admiring the Great Hall. It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant watersnakes.

The food was delicious; even the students, who most likely were full to bursting with Honeydukes sweets, managed second helpings of everything. However, Remus' stomach was not fond of being filled, which it told him by aching and occasionally sending waves of stinging pain all the way up his spine.

"Remus, you look very pale. Is everything alright?", Minerva asked, looking at him from the side.

"Yes, of course. Sorry, I was thinking," Remus replied, not really expecting her to believe his lie. She just nodded, gave him a pat on the back and turned back to Dumbledore.

After that, Remus tried to look cheerful and as well as he ever did, so he didn't raise any suspicion; he was now talking animatedly to tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher.

When Remus eyes' scanned the students every now and then, he always saw Harry looking up at him. Then Harry would move his eyes along the table every time, to the place where Snape sat. Remus would do the same. Were both Harry and the teacher imagining it, or were Snape's eyes flickering toward Lupin more often than was natural?

The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.

It had been such a pleasant evening that Remus good mood couldn't even be spoiled by his constant distress around the full moon.

The students were dismissed with some final words from the Headmaster, and the hall started to empty.

A few teachers started to head upstairs to the staff room in small groups, and Professor McGonagall, Dumbledore, Snape and Remus were the last to leave the hall and the headmaster was just telling them about this comfortable pumpkin sweater he had knitted for today but forgot to wear when he stopped himself mid-sentence.

"Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick!", yelled the sharp voice of the Head Boy, Percy Weasley, suddenly through the entire stairwell.

The four teachers started running up the stairs. Dumbledore, very agile and nimble for his age, was soon an entire staircase ahead of them. Remus was sure he could've kept up if it wasn't for the stultifying tiredness in his body.

A moment later, Professor Dumbledore had reached the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, sweeping toward the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through, and Remus saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione at the back, moving closer to see what the trouble was.