Author's note: -brandishes sword and shield- I swear, I've had writer's block! I am sorry though…and since I've been feeling bad about my er…negligence…and thought that since it's probably been a while since anyone's read the previous chapter, I thought I'd stick in a little recap for you guys. So if you remember all the events and stuff clearly enough, skip the italicized bit…but if you need your memory to be jogged….ahem…

-Gets into T.V. voice- last time, on "Wanton Confessions..."

"Hey, Denise"—I started, following her down a particularly crowded aisle in Snape's Sweet Shoppe—"I should get something for Professor Lupin…he needs a Christmas/thank you gift too."

Denise cocked an eyebrow at me. "But didn't you have a row with him before we left school?"

"Well"—

"You told me you apologized to him, and then took your apology back, and then slammed the door on him…"

I sighed. "Fine. A Christmas/thank you/sorry-for-being-a-bitch present all in one. Will a box of chocolate do?"

Denise laughed. "Only if it's a big box." She said, picking up a box of dark chocolate and examining it.

…………………

"You're the jerk who said all those things to me!" I exclaimed, fighting the urge to chuck his stupid ball at him. "You owe me an apology!"

"I owe you an apology?" Oliver asked indignantly. "You're the one who brought this whole rift between us…getting all worked up about your tutoring sessions. You're the reason I got tricked into thinking I could get a Firebolt. You're the reason why Madeline's in pain every time she tries to eat or drink something, and you're the reason why I have to always hear about it! I think you owe me an apology!"

……………………

I slapped him. I just slapped Oliver Wood. I didn't know how else to shut him up, so I slapped him. He looked at me like…well, like he had just been slapped. I felt a twinge of guilt as he looked at me with mingled surprise and hurt. But it melted almost instantly and was replaced by an angry glare.

"You're a freak, Hennessey. I don't want your worthless apology anyway." He said, backing away slowly and then turning to walk away.

"I don't want yours either!" I called back after him.

…………………………………………

I glanced back at Vince. He wasn't looking at us. He had his attention turned to his father, who was addressing his sons in a serious tone. My, does he look good when he's serious. Er. Anyway. I watched as Vince listened to his father, nodding occasionally in acknowledgement of what he was saying, and then, he glanced at us again. Well, not us. At Denise. He was definitely looking at Denise. And just as quickly as he had glanced up, he averted his gaze back to his father. And a moment later, he repeated the whole cycle.

………………

"What did he want?" I asked almost automatically. For some reason, the idea of telling Denise what I had just done scared me a little.

Denise carefully adjusted the pleats on her skirt. "Er…well, Ernie…he um…came to give me his approval."

"Um…what?" I asked.

"For getting involved with his brother Vince, if I choose to do so…" Denise said quietly, rolling her eyes.

………………

"I really like you." I found myself saying. Oh Merlin, what am I doing? "I've like you for a while, actually…I just thought I'd tell you that."

I sighed heavily. I think I said all of that in one breath. Damnit. That's probably why I said it…not enough oxygen going to my brain…I wasn't thinking straight. Why, oh why did I say that to him?

……

Severus Snape

Oh, my hands.

They're dirty, and smelly, and just…gross. They're going to be all callously and rough…and just…ew. They're going to lose their lush youthfulness – all in the space of a night. Thanks a lot, Snape.

I'm in detention, scrubbing dirty cauldrons, and it's the night before the next term. (Though Snape had said term had technically started, thereby justifying my being here, doing this really gross work). I chanced a glance at Professor Snape, who was sitting at his desk, grading papers. His brow was slightly furrowed, and he had a very concentrated look on his face. Currently he was pursing his lips together as he dipped his quill in his ink pot, getting ready to mark a grade on the paper.

Gah. I want to go. I've been inhaling the stench of Merlin-knows-what potions for the past hour…touching remnants of mysterious substances with my bare hands…all because he overheard me…I don't know how he did—what with those tiny ears of his. See, he overheard me…er…using some obscenities on this one first year Slytherin; According to Snape, I was "corrupting the youth" with my foul mouth. Anyway, he took away a few house points for that. It was when I sniggered and said he could do like the ancient muggle Greeks did with Socrates, and feed me hemlock juice since we apparently committed the same crime. Staring witheringly at me, he said he had potions that worked even quicker than hemlock (and you know I believe it) and then he proceeded to give me a detention.

He's cruel, this man sitting before me. I glanced up at him again…watching him as he marked down another paper. He let out a small sigh, and tossed the paper onto his stack of already graded papers. Ok. You know, this'll sound weird, but Professor Snape looks almost—not exactly happy—but more…at peace…doing his work. Peaceful Snape—very chilling indeed.

It's weird. I've always thought ill of Snape. I mean, he is a git and all...but there's just something about him…maybe it's his all-black wardrobe…he's so mysterious and kind of gothic, and…I don't know…he seems so cynical and bitter. But you know, I always imagine those traits to be…I don't know…kind of sexy. There. I said it. Snape's mystique is kind of sexy. Look, I can't help it, so don't get all judgmental on me for thinking that. It's not like I want to shag him or anything. I mean, I dreamt about it once, but that was a year ago when he whooped Lockhart's ass in a dueling club meeting, and…well, it's completely beside the point. Despite the aura of mystery that surrounds him, Snape is still a git. He's mean and a bully. He actually looks at peace when he gives people P's and T's on their assignments. Academically, he's completely sadistic. Huh. I'll bet he's sadistic in other aspects of his life too. Mmm. Kinky.

"Hennessey!"

Oh my bloody gosh. Snape's voice had startled me, causing me to drop my rag in the cauldron I was working on. I was still staring at him too, and he didn't seem to like it. He looked extremely annoyed, actually.

"Er—yes?" I asked, trying to look innocent.

"Do you need anything?"

"Er…no."

"Then get back to work." Snape said curtly.

"Oh—right! Sorry sir…"

Geez. His lack of appreciation for my staring shocks me…and amuses me. I couldn't help but grin.

"Hennessey!" Snape started again. I looked up from my work and saw that he was gritting his teeth. I pressed my lips together, hoping I wouldn't crack.

"Stop grinning like an imbecile and finish your work." He said, dropping his quill in his inkpot so hard, that drops of ink splashed out of it.

"I'm sorry, sir." I replied.

I didn't stop grinning though.

It took me a few moments to notice what had happened next. Snape had gotten out of his chair and walked over to the other side of the classroom, where I was working. He was towering over me, actually—but I didn't really notice until I had looked up to find my bottle of cleansing solution. Geez. He was like, right there. I could actually hear him breathe.

"Er—yes, Prof"—

"Do you take pleasure in wasting yours—and what is infinitely worse—my time in these detentions?" he asked, snatching my rag from me.

"Only if they're with you, Professor." I replied, trying to smile as pleasantly as possible at him. His face tightened slightly. Mmm. So not a good look for him.

"Get out. Now."

I could feel my mouth opening slightly. "But I'm not done yet"—

He snatched the cauldron out of my hands, looking rather mutinously at me. "Go."

"But"—

"Hennessey! I am going to give you three seconds to get out of my sight, and then I'm going to give you a little lesson in hexing—a lesson I am sure your defense against the dark arts professor has failed to give you." He hissed, drawing out his wand and aiming it at me. Ah, shit. "1, 2"—

"Later, sir!" I squealed, grabbing my things and hurrying out of his classroom as fast as humanly possible. If there's anything I learned from dear Professor Lockhart last year, it's to never duel Professor Snape. Ah, the good old days of the dueling club…nothing I love better than watching men duel each other. We really need to get that club going again…

Ah. Free at last. I looked at my watch, which currently read 8:05. Excellent. A little less than an hour until I have to be in the common room for curfew. Actually, I don't know what's so excellent about that…I have absolutely nothing to do (and I feel it necessary to add that I have no one to do either). Meh. I suppose I'm safer just going back to the common room…what with Sirius Black being on the loose…and not to mention Oliver Wood. I think I may just die if I run into him. Conversely, I think I might just die if I don't see him. I mean, what the hell is a girl to do? I don't know what he thinks of me…how he feels about me liking him…maybe he's shocked and completely thrown off…or maybe he's known all along…I don't know…and the suspense is killing me. I don't know when the next time I'm going to be alone with Oliver is…what if I never get to be alone with him? Then I'll never know what his true feelings were, or what was going through his mind…oooh! Unless I become a legilimens…er…right. Lots of mental discipline required. I have none. Ok. I have no Plan B then…so…I don't know what will become of me, of Oliver…our love story will be incomplete. I will die an old maid, in Denise's basement, which will be richly furnished because she's probably going to marry Vince Macmillan and be rich with him, and have gorgeous children who will of course be my godchildren, because Denise will feel sorry for me and my pathetic, Oliver-less existence and will want to try doing something nice for me…and…and—

"Hey, Suzie!"

And the ground beneath me has disappeared. I turn the corner, and I run into none other than…yes, that's right. Mr. Oliver Wood. Ok. Must. Breathe. Breathe! Why does he look so worried? Damn myself for making things weird…and damn myself for being too thick to string words together at this moment! Ok. I can do this. Just breathe, damn it.

"Er…hey Oliver!" I squeaked. Geez. Why does it always come out as a squeak?

"So…erm…how've you been?" he asked, rather hurriedly, as he dug his hands into his pockets. "How…how was holiday? How are you?"

I could feel my heart rate slowing down to a normal pace. Knowing that he was a little uneasy too made me feel somewhat more at ease. "Um…I'm fine." I replied. "You?"

"I'm fine…you?"I couldn't help but grin. "Still fine…""Huh? Oh!" Oliver said with a sigh and a laugh. "Right, sorry…"

"Quite alright…" I replied, very conscious of the lack of squeakiness in my voice now. Well I'll be a hippogriff's concubine. Mr. Wood is a bigger spaz than me. My, have the tables turned. Well, at least in this moment anyway…

Oliver smiled slightly, his hands still in his pockets. "So…"

"So…" I echoed, putting my hands in my own pockets. I wanted to say something…I wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but somehow, I couldn't bring myself to say anything. I was just standing there, like an idiot, staring at him. At his face…trying to read his face. And I couldn't. It was too hard to read. I thought he looked a bit glad to see me, but then it kind of switched to a more wigged out and a bit disappointed look. Say something…please, say something…

"Er…listen…" Oliver started slowly. Oh that can't be good. He ran his fingers over the back of his head, ruffling up his hair, and looking extremely uncomfortable. Or constipated.

"Ah, hello Mr. Wood, Ms. Hennessey!"

And my heart took off again at the new voice that came from behind me. I turned around. It was Professor Lupin.

"Oh—hello Professor," Oliver said quickly, shifting his attention to Lupin, "how's it going? Have a good holiday?"

Professor Lupin smiled and nodded, saying that he had, though judging by his appearance, I think he might have been fibbing. He looked a bit pallid, and a bit thinner, and had bags under his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I was just passing through, I didn't mean to interrupt your conversation. Please, carry on." Lupin said, glancing from Oliver to me, raising his eyebrows questioningly at me. I blushed, realizing he knew a bit about my feelings for Oliver, but a moment later, remembered my little tantrum I had thrown at Lupin before holiday, and began to wonder if the chocolates I had sent had not sufficed as an apology…

"Oh, no! You're not interrupting anything," Oliver replied, glancing at me, though he quickly averted his gaze when our eyes met. What. The. Hell. "I have to go anyway…I…er…needed to check on my Quidditch team…make sure they all get to bed…we've got early practice tomorrow morning and whatnot."

Professor Lupin smiled. "Early, so…before dawn then?"

Oliver grinned and nodded. "Right. Well, see you Professor, see you Suzie…"

And he hurried away. I glanced at Professor Lupin, who had also begun to slowly make his way toward his office. He was limping a little. I stood there in my place for a few seconds, not quite sure what to do. Did Professor Lupin, the love of my academic life, just ruin the one chance I probably had at hearing Oliver out? I never thought I'd say this about dear Lupin, but damn him. He ruined everything! I almost don't care if he's still mad at me for acting up in his office a few weeks ago. Almost.

"Professor Lupin, wait up!" I called as I hurried after him. He had reached the foot of the stairs that led to his office when he turned around, looking at me rather surprised.

"Everything alright, Suzie?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Er, yeah…everything's fine. Um…how are you?" I asked as I caught up to him.

He motioned for me to follow him up the stairs. "I'm fine. How was your holiday?"

"Pretty good." I replied. "Good haul of presents."

Lupin laughed. "And that's what matters, right?"

"Of course." I said seriously. Well, as seriously as I can get. "How was yours? Did you get sick or something? Because…well, you look it."

Lupin smiled ruefully as he reached his office door, which he held open for me. "I did get sick, actually. But I'm recovering, and speedily too, thanks to the lovely gift you sent me over the holidays. Thank you very much for that."

"No problem." I said with a grin.

"You really didn't need to do that though." He said, with a smile, as he motioned for me to take a seat by his desk.

"Of course I did." I replied, looking squarely at him. "You obviously would be sicker if it hadn't been for that chocolate, and anyway, it was just a thank you gift…and…well…a sorry gift."

Professor Lupin laughed. "A sorry gift?"

I shrugged, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. I hate apology type conversations. "Well…I felt bad…I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I mean, I guess I just expected you to overlook what I had done to Madeline…I know I shouldn't have…but I did…and then you reacted the way you did…"

"The way a professor would react?" he interjected, smiling at me.

I blushed. "I forget sometimes that your being a disciplinarian comes with the whole teacher package."

Lupin nodded. "That happens."

I ran my fingers over the back of my head. "So…er…are we cool then?"

Professor Lupin smiled and got up. "Of course we are. Despite past actions, I know you're a good girl, Suzie, and a very bright person."

I could just feel myself ready to swoon. "Really?"

Lupin laughed as he began shuffling through the contents on one the drawers on the opposite end of his office. "I'm sure that's not news to you. Would you like some tea, by the way?"

"Oh! Sure…"

Professor Lupin at last found the tea bags he was looking for, and began to make tea. "Unfortunately though," he began as he tapped his teapot with his wand to heat up the water, "because of my recent sickness, Madam Pomfrey took it upon herself to confiscate all of my regular tea bags and replace them with herbal tea, so we'll have to make do with that."

I sniggered. "She's an aggressive one, that Madam Pomfrey."

"She is at that." Lupin replied as he poured tea for the both of us and handing me a cup. "So, how's the job hunt coming along? Have you heard from anyone yet?"

"Oh…no…not yet." I replied as I flattened my skirt against my lap. Ok. So I'm lying. A little. I've only heard from one place so far. Magical Monthly. They sent me a rejection letter over the holidays. I haven't told anyone except my parents…because, well, they were at home with me when I got it, so I didn't really have any choice about hiding it from them. Denise doesn't even know about it…I can't bring myself to tell her about it. I'm too embarrassed. I can't even tell my best friend, so how can I tell Lupin that I got rejected? A few months ago, he was praising this magazine, saying it was one of the better publications out there…he's going to think I'm a loser if he finds out I got rejected from them, and will then proceed to be all sympathetic, because he seems like the type…and then I'll feel like an even bigger loser for having him take pity on me...

"Well, don't worry." Lupin said, smiling reassuringly. "There's still plenty of time left to hear from them. I'm sure you'll get accepted…any of the places you applied to would be lucky to have you writing for them."

I smiled weakly. "Thanks. I hope you're right."

Professor Lupin took a sip of his tea, which, judging by the slightly embittered look on his face, he didn't like. When he put his cup down, he looked at me thoughtfully, and asked, "Have you ever considered writing for muggle newspapers or magazines, Suzie?"

"Muggle?" Muggle writing? Huh. I never thought of that. "But I don't know anything about muggle writing…" I said.

Lupin shook his head and smiled. "Journalistic writing is very much the same everywhere. Instead of writing about things that concern wizards and witches though, you'd write about things that concern muggles. Are you at all familiar with their lifestyle?"

I shrugged. "Somewhat. I live in a muggle neighborhood…though I don't interact much with my neighbors."

"Well…go to a muggle newsstand one day or their bookstores and go to the magazine section, and see what they're about…if they interest you, and you think you could comfortably write for them, you should try it. From what I hear, there's a much bigger market for writers in the muggle world than in the wizarding world." Lupin said. "Not that don't believe in your talents to conquer the wizarding writing world, because I do believe you can do it if they gave you a chance…but it would be advisable to consider all your options."

I smiled. And probably blushed too. He thinks I can conquer the writing world. He's so sweet. And someone's just knocked on the door. Right when I was beginning to float into the clouds. Damnit.

"Please come in." Professor Lupin said, draining the last of his tea.

The door opened, and in came Professor McGonagall, and for some reason she was holding a broomstick. It looked rather new. Actually, it looked kind of like a Firebolt...I saw it in my uncle's shop so many times. Oh! I wonder if that's the mysterious one he told me he sold, since he said it was being sent to Hogwarts…

"Remus—ah—Miss Hennessey, I'm sorry to interrupt," she said briskly, glancing at me briefly before turning her attention back to Lupin, "I just wanted to drop this off."

"Very well." Professor Lupin replied, carefully taking the broomstick in his hands, almost as if it were a snake ready to strike.

"I've already stripped it down and have tested it for jinxes, but as the dark arts expert here, it seems fitting that you examine it too before I give it back to Potter."

Lupin smiled. "I'll have a look first chance I get."

Professor McGonagall looked at him exasperatedly. "Do try to make that soon. I know you have a lot on your plate at the moment, especially with Potter, but the boy has been nagging me day in and day out for his broom. And now he's got Oliver Wood on my case too. I've been fighting the urge to give Potter a detention just for telling Wood."

Ah…so Harry was the lucky kid who got the Firebolt! But why were they testing for dark magic? I remember Uncle Jack telling me about the nature of the order and how a cat had brought in the money, along with the address to which the broom should be sent. Was it anonymously given to him then?

"Let me know when you've gotten through inspecting it so I can get it back to Potter." Professor McGonagall said as she turned to leave.

"Of course." Lupin replied.

I glanced back to watch McGonagall leave, but as she reached the door, she stopped and turned around, looking at Professor Lupin with what seemed like a mix of skepticism and worry.

"Perhaps we should also have Filius take a look, just to be thorough." Lupin offered, smiling slightly.

McGonagall let out a small sigh and nodded. "I was thinking exactly the same thing. We need to be absolutely sure that it's safe."

I glanced back at Professor Lupin, who looked like he was actually smirking. I pressed my lips together, trying not to smile. I have no idea why he's so amused, but seeing him smirk makes me want to smirk too, just for the hell of it.

"If you're still feeling uneasy," Lupin started, "we could always solicit Binns's help. He is, after all, an expert on ancient magic…or perhaps Severus? In case the broom's been coated with a dangerous potion"—

McGonagall glared at him, and then I understood the joke. "You would mock a woman's maternal instincts?" she asked stiffly.

Professor Lupin shrugged. "I have to admit, it's not every day I see them surface. I must take advantage of the occasion."

"Have the Firebolt ready to be passed on to Flitwick in a week's time." Professor McGonagall replied curtly as she headed out of the office.

When she left, Professor Lupin turned his attention to me and smiled. "If there's any professor in this school who cares about the welfare of her students, it's Professor McGonagall." he told me. "Just try not to spread the word. It would ruin her image."

I grinned. "I may be persuaded with some hush money."

Lupin smiled. "I'm afraid you're just going to have to do it out of the goodness of your heart."

I rolled my eyes as I got up, remembering that it was almost curfew. "That's hardly a motivation."

After bidding Lupin goodbye, I began to make my way back to the common room, in hopes of finding Denise there. She would be there, of course, being quite the goody two shoes and usually adamant about following school rules. God, I haven't seen her since dinner, which is a lot of time considering we spend most of our time together. I must update her on my Oliver situation (mainly because she demanded me to keep her updated). I eventually told her on the train ride back to Hogwarts about my little confession to Oliver. Her reaction was quite memorable. She stared at me for a full five seconds in silence…just staring at me…it wasn't until I waved a hand in front of her face and said "Oi! Mrs. Macmillan!" that she snapped into her senses, slapped me very hard on the thigh (I never thought someone as dainty as her could be so strong), and demanded me to tell her why I had waited twenty minutes to tell her about my talk with Oliver. After many apologies and my assurances that I would never hold out on her again, I explained every last detail of my conversation...which didn't take very long, as it lasted about thirty seconds. I told her about how I had meant to go into Oliver's compartment with the sole intention of apologizing to him, and how I ended up admitting my feelings to him, just like that…and how Madeline just had to make her bloody appearance at the most crucial moment. I hate her. I truly hate her. Seriously. I'm actually beginning to understand why my patronus took the form of a tiger a few months ago in Lupin's class…That girl irks me to the point that I wish I were a tiger, just so I could roar at her…or um…possibly claw her. Or if I had a Madeline-like dementor coming after me (which doesn't make sense, I know…because honestly, who would be afraid of that slutty toothpick?), then I could send my tiger-shaped patronus after her.

I know…I have segued into the realm of weirdness and irrationality. I shall segue right out…er…just as soon as I find Denise, because really, she's the only person who can drag me back to the rational world. Oh, Denise was so sweet, and so encouraging when I told her everything though. I mean, I don't really believe anything she said ("Suzie, you were so brave for saying that to him…it's good that you told him…I bet he likes you back, just wait for him to approach you…"), but the sentiments were nice. I don't honestly believe Oliver likes me back or that he ever would have. I mean, he knows my feelings now…and he's still with Madeline…he's had the whole day to approach me (except for the hours I spent in Snape's detention, of course) and tell me that he likes me back, but he hasn't done anything. I know I'm ditzy, but I'm not so stupid that I can't see the obvious. Still though, I want to hear it from him. I want him to put closure on everything, and tell me he doesn't like me back so I can just move on.

"Minerva!"

I had just turned the corner when I heard the very familiar, very hoarse, yet oh-so-sexy voice. I glanced up and saw Professor Lupin coming down the stairs, which were several yards away from me, so he didn't notice me. My ears perked up as I watched him catch up to Professor McGonagall, who was walking further along the corridor, even farther away from me. Happily, neither of them seemed to notice that I was behind them. Instinctively (yes, stalking is an instinct), I quickened my pace to keep up with them though trying my utmost to quiet my steps to keep myself hidden…Yes, I'm still feeling rather pathetic with my Oliver business, but the world's sexiest professor has just appeared on the scene and is hurrying to catch up with Professor McGonagall. Oh, and happy, happy day. The man has left his robes in his office and is sporting his muggle clothes. My God, look at that bum go. Ok. New ambition in life: Marry a muggle, or a wizard who at least knows the joys of muggle clothing. Amazing. I can go from lovesick to lustful in half a second.

McGonagall glanced over her shoulder at hearing her name, though fortunately her head didn't turn far enough to notice me in the background. "Remus! Fancy seeing you here…"

Though I couldn't see Lupin's face, I'm sure he had smiled in response, as he so often tends to do. "I'm not sure I know what you mean…"

I slowed down a bit, allowing for the distance between us to increase. I held my breath, hoping I'd still be able to hear their conversation.

"Well, at times it seems as if you emerge from your office as often as Trelawney does." McGonagall had replied.

Lupin let out a small laugh. "Ah, I see. Well, I don't do it on purpose"—

"Of course you don't." McGonagall interjected, though it sounded good-naturedly. Well, I think it was…you can never be too sure with her… "I know you're constantly occupied with your students…they demand quite a bit of time from you, I've noticed…probably more so than any professor in this school."

Aw! The students take up all his time! He's the most popular teacher in the school! Well, no surprise. I mean, aside from being crazy smart and witty and fun, he's incredibly sweet and approachable…plus, as I have discovered tonight, he has an exceptionally perky posterior.

"Oh, well…" Lupin began, sounding slightly flustered. Oh, he's all embarrassed! I love a shy man! "I teach an exceptional bunch of students. They're always approaching me with the most interesting questions, and they seem so genuinely interested in the subject…"

McGonagall sniffed, giving off a tone of mixed skepticism and amusement. "Yes, that's all they can talk to you about…defense against the dark arts!"

Lupin glanced sideways at McGonagall, and I almost crashed into a nearby knight of armor in my attempts to get out of his field of vision. "What do you mean? I mean, they do talk to me about other things…I've developed closer relationships with some of the students, mainly with those who want to be closer…"

"Yes, I've noticed that…a few of the students—particularly our older students—see you almost as a mentor." Professor McGonagall said quickly when Lupin's voice had trailed off. I couldn't help but beam. I certainly think of him as a mentor. And then some…

"You flatter me…I don't know if any of my students"—

"Stop being modest, Remus!" McGonagall said, cutting him off and waving her hand dismissively at him. "You have your fans and that is a good thing. Few professors in this school have honed their socializing skills well enough to develop friendships with their students. I just wanted to caution you though."

"Caution me?"

I could see Professor McGonagall smiling at Lupin. Almost knowingly. Wow. I've never seen McGonagall smiling knowingly at anyone. She's usually so damn stiff. Oh my God. What if she's trying to flirt with Professor Lupin? Ew. That's sick. He's probably like, twenty or thirty years her junior…Ew. Ew. Ew. I know. I should probably have 'hypocrite' tattooed on my forehead in very big letters…

"Take care, Remus. You really shouldn't be so nice to everyone…you might give the wrong impression…" McGonagall replied.

Professor Lupin turned to look at McGonagall. "Minerva, I highly doubt"—

"Remus, you've been here for less than a year." Professor McGonagall cut in, "And I know you'd like to think the best in people, but you don't know the students as well as I do, and you certainly don't know women as I do. Believe me when I say that they are emotional creatures."

I could feel my eyes widening. What the hell was McGonagall talking about? Oh, I smell intrigue! I held my breath, waiting for them to continue…

Professor Lupin laughed lightly. "I am aware of that…but I don't think we have anything to worry about…if we're talking about the same thing," he added, glancing warily at Professor McGonagall. "Anyway, I don't even think any of my female students are like that…I believe you've sadly mistaken me for a Gilderoy Lockhart…"

McGonagall made a tutting sound as she glanced sideways at Lupin. "And I suppose Ms. Hennessey hangs around your office as much as she does because she just loves defense against the dark arts that much?"

Suddenly, my feet have become too heavy to lift. I'm stuck…

"Minerva, really…" Lupin started, sounding slightly disconcerted, but again, McGonagall cut him off.

"I've never seen a student adore a professor the way she adores you. And while it is a bit refreshing, and I daresay rather entertaining, all I'm saying is to be careful. You don't want to lead the poor girl on…she's a good student, and a good girl, and she would be so hurt if she got to thinking that something might come out of"—

"With all due respect," Professor Lupin started, "she's seventeen, not stupid. I'm sure she knows that much, if she even feels the way you say she does."

"Always getting embarrassed at the slightest attentions…" McGonagall said with a laugh. "You certainly haven't changed one bit since your schoolboy days…well, perhaps a little. I notice you don't blush as much as you used to…"

Lupin frowned at McGonagall. "Anyway…to change the subject…you made me forget why I caught up with you in the first place…I wanted to ask you what tests you've done on Harry's broom, and I can mark those off the list I've compiled so we're not redundant…"

But I didn't hear the rest…In fact, I barely noticed them disappearing behind another corner, leaving me alone in the corridor. I can't believe this. Lupin knows I like him. McGonagall knows I like him. Oh gosh. Oh my bloody gosh…it was just a stupid crush! I mean, yes I've gotten a bit obsessive over him as of late, but I swear, I never even took it seriously. I never thought seriously about Lupin…I mean, hello! That's what Oliver's been around for!

Geez. This sucks. This really sucks, like more than a—oh forget it. I'm not even in the mood for making dirty similes right now. My secrets are out. Oliver knows I like him, and he hasn't even given me a proper reaction…Lupin knows I like him—hell, he's probably known all along—and it's worse because now I realize he's probably been playing nice with me this whole time, ignoring any vibes I might have been inadvertently pushing at him. Well, this is just fan-bloody-tastic. I am humiliated beyond belief. I mean, it's bad enough that the whole damn world has to know who I'm interested in, but what's worse is that even after all of this, I have no one. No Oliver, no…no one.

I headed towards the portrait that guarded the Hufflepuff common room, trying to decide the best way to tell Denise about what I had overheard, in addition to my brief run-in with Oliver. I guess I can't really say I have no one. I do have Denise, and as she's probably one of the best friends a girl could ever have, I should be happy that I at least have her.

As I climbed through the threshold and began making my way down the stairs that led to the common room, I listened for voices, trying to figure out who was in the common room before I reached it. I heard Madeline's squeaky voice, as well as Cedric Diggory's quiet laughter. When I entered the common room, I glanced around, and quickly realized that Denise was not there. Clever girl. She's probably down in the dormitory, waiting for me. I hurried down the steps that led to the girls' dormitories, remembering that the sooner I got there, the more time Denise and I would have to confer before Miss Slutty-Long-Legs shows up to retire for the night.

When I reached our dormitory, I swung the door open, expecting to find Denise curled up in bed with a book or lying on her stomach, doing her homework. But she wasn't. The curtains of her four poster bed were drawn shut, and I heard her slow, steady breathing. Quietly, I tiptoed to her bedside and peaked through the curtains—she was fast asleep.

I sat on the edge of my bed for a few moments, staring at Denise's bed and fighting the urge to wake her up. It wasn't until Madeline entered the dormitory a few minutes later that I finally got up to go change into my pajamas and go to bed, wondering how on earth I was going to act around Professor Lupin now, and wondering when on earth I'd be able to stop feeling queasy at the memory of me telling Oliver that I like him.