Remus Lupin and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Chapter 14: Temper, temper

Remus was moving everything black into place with measured sweeps of his wand when someone poked their head in. "Class is over, Remus?" McGonagall asked, mug in her hand and book tucked beneath her elbow.

"Yes, it all went rather well, happily. We are now boggart free." He aimed the squishy salmon chez back into the nook under the window where Professor Binns liked to hover a few inches above the seat; he gathered it had been a favored spot when he was alive.

She nodded. "Good. I'm sure it was good practice." Waiting, she watched the high winged scarlet armchair glide over to her and sat neatly when he swept it up behind her. "Thank you."

He nodded back with a mild smile and continued his arranging, thinking. Severus' treatment of Neville had truly nettled him and he didn't want the boy's success to be over-looked. Professor Sprout was stretching with a yawn when she wandered in and flopped onto a dark green love seat and pulled her hat over her eyes. The door opened as he spoke to the room at large, "I had Neville Longbottom in my class today and he did exceptionally well."

"Really?" McGonagall sounded taken aback and Sprout lifted the edge of her hat so one eye peered out.

"With you, Lupin?"

Remus nodded and sank into a squat brown-leather armchair. "He was the one who finished it-- the boggart-- in the end."

"I wouldn't expect it to be a trend," came a sneer from near the tea tray.

Remus turned in his seat to see Snape's back to him, sorting through scones the House Elves had brought up after lunch. He must have been who came in when he started speaking. "I suppose everyone is entitled to their opinions. But I would thank you to not insult my students in front of me," he replied coolly. I would thank you not to insult Alice and Frank's boy in front of me, as well.

Severus favored him with a disdainful lip curl. "As always, celebrating mediocrity and failure. Though, I wouldn't put much stock into your opinion of character, seeing how you seem to favor murderers and cowards."

Something dark shifted in his gut, but he kept his voice level. "Are we going to have a problem, Severus?" He asked mildly.

Snape ignored the question, turning instead to lean against the wall, scone in hand. "Longbottom's not Pettigrew, Lupin. Still maybe as dull and useless, but I wouldn't get too chummy with him; remember how the last time you failed to protect someone like that went." He held up his long, sallow ring finger and wiggled them.

"Severus!" McGonagall protested, sounding appalled, at the same time Sprout barked, "Remus!"

He was in his feet without quite remembering how he came to be there. There was a peculiar ringing in his ears and everything seemed brighter, sharper somehow. His chest hurt.

"Or maybe you left him to confront a cold blooded murderer alone on purpose. Did you have better things to do?" He asked in mock understanding. Remus' hands spasmed.

"That is enough." McGonagall stepped between them sternly, rounding on Snape.

Sprout approached his side. "Lupin." He couldn't seem to look away from Snape. "Lupin."

He wrenched his gaze to her, eyes wide. She looked strange, almost wary. "Deep breath, lad. Calm down."

Dazedly, he took a breath and realized he'd been holding it against a mounting honest to goodness growl in his chest. He looked down and his whole body was shaking, lightly. His fists had been clenched. Gulping in about breath, he backed up several steps until his back hit the wall.

"Black's been sighted nearby, have you heard?" Snape raised his voice over his shoulder as McGonagall ushered him firmly toward the door. "Too bad your old mate didn't stop by for a visit. Or maybe that's why he's here?" He added nastily before the door shut with a snap behind him.