The Potions dungeon was completely empty except for a very euphoric Remus Lupin. He was standing over a mahogany desk, reading a leather-bound book inscribed with the initials "SPS" on the front cover. He knew by the girlish handwriting inside that it belonged to none other than Severus Snape, although the mysterious middle initial was yet to be uncovered. The first page was blank, as was the second. The third page, however, was almost black with drawings of small hearts. Lupin was hysterical. He flipped the page over to find a small inscription on the back: 'My heart belongs to—' He was cut off by the slamming of a door and the anxious footsteps of a very angry middle-aged man. "Remus, I wasn't aware that blatant disregard for others' privacy was in your job description."

"I..Snape…" Lupin's sentence was punctured by bursts of laughter.

"Well? An explanation?"

Then Snape hesitated. He saw the book, his diary, open on his desk.

"No! Avada Ke—"

A squeak and Snape's wand turned in to a rubber chicken. "WEASLEY'S!"

His fury kept him from speaking for a full three minutes.

"Can you stop convulsing with anger and please explain who this Blaise Zambini is?" Lupin asked. "I know I've been out of touch with the school since leaving it, but I had no idea there were such… uh, quote 'fine-looking blonde haired boys with sweet tushes" in Slytherin house. Not to mention that not only is it immoral to have uh… 'feelings' for students… but just… ugh."

"Of course that book was planted on me, I… you have no proof."

"It has your initials on it."

"S.P.S. could be anybody.."

"I've been meaning to ask, what does the P. stand for, anyway?"

"Uh . . . Potions."

Lupin coughed, a noise that sounded remarkably like "bullshit."

Snape rushed at Lupin with the rubber chicken, attempting to cause great damage by suffocation, or possibly by provoking Lupin to laugh himself to death. With the swish of a cloak, Remus fled the dungeon.

--

"Morning, Severus."

The Great Hall was filled with students and teachers eagerly awaiting breakfast. Lupin joined the staff table; he seated himself between McGonagall and Snape.

"Lupin." Snape answered with a small, cold nod.

"Mmmm this is delicious pumpkin juice, isn't it?"

Snape glanced at his goblet.

"I haven't tried any of it, yet."

"Pity."

Snape took a long swig of the liquid and immediately his eyes were wide in fear.

"No…" he murmured, but to no effect. His eyes glazed over, and he succumbed to the Veritaserum.

"So, Severus. Tell us about this Blaise Zambini character." Lupin looked around and silently mumbled "muffliato" to prevent any other staff members or students from overhearing.

"Blaise Zambini. Hogwarts. Slytherin house. Beautiful. Talented. Blonde. Nice butt. I watch him sometimes from my desk. I know it's wrong. I can't help it. Maybe a love potion gone wrong. Harry Potter. Kill him. Kill him for giving me a love potion in my pumpkin juice. I love Blaise Zambini."

"Okay, Severus. That's enough. Now, what does the P. stand for, exactly?"

"…Patty. It stands for Patty. Don't tell Voldemort. Only Lucius knows. He found out. We were drunk at the annual Death Eater Christmas party. He forced it out of me."

The Veritaserum started to wear off. Snape regained himself, and stared at Lupin furiously.

"What did you do? What did you ask me!" he shouted. Lupin undid the muffliato spell.

"Oh, just the usual. Patty."

Snape put his head in his hands.

"Oh, and I don't agree. Blaise Zambini does not have a nice butt. That is just wrong."

Lupin got up, turned on his heel, and left the Great Hall.

Snape sat there. And then he cried.