The prospect of having Bones around for a whole two weeks at Christmas – with the added bonus of taking the piss out of Severus for the duration – meant that Amelia was just as excited about the holidays this year as her students were.

Everyone became increasingly boisterous as the last week of term progressed. Rumours about the Yule Ball were flying everywhere, most of them entirely untrue – for instance: that Dumbledore had bought eight hundred barrels of mulled mead from Madam Rosmerta at the Three Broomsticks. The one rumour with any truth of it was that he had booked the Weird Sisters, a wizarding pop group that seemed to be incredibly famous. Ernie MacMillan had convinced Amelia to listen to the Wizarding Wireless Network (WWN) for the duration of one Muggle Studies lesson for 'research' purposes, so she filled the next lesson with Muggle music of a similar style in retaliation.

It had proved so popular that she'd be asked to provide a selection of Muggle music for between each set at the Ball, and had spent an enjoyable few evenings carefully editing out the bad language on her computer. Filius and Argus were conspiring to make playing music in the Great Hall possible – magic and electricity had a disturbing tendency to explode when left to their own devices.

Half of the school was buzzing around, trying to get dates with the other half; there was faint air of desperation in the air as Christmas loomed ever closer. Amelia had to admit that it would be nice to attend one of these things with a partner, even if it did mean she had to behave herself.

It was late in the evening a couple of days before the end of term when she found Ron Weasley skulking around her office door. He had a bundle of what looked like rags under his arm and was looking distinctly shifty.

"Ron," she greeted, opening her door. "Come in – you haven't gone mad and kidnapped a House Elf, have you? Hermione'll go spare…"

Despite his obvious embarrassment – like his father, the tips of his ears tended to go pink, acting as a weather-vane for his emotions – he grinned.

"Not yet," he said. "But given how this year is going…"

Amelia smiled.

"What can I do for you?"

"Er – I was wondering if I could ask a favour, Professor," he said, shifting the bundle about, uncomfortably. "It's – well, it's my dress robes… they're –" he unravelled the bundle to show her.

Amelia grimaced as she surveyed the confection of velvet and lace.

"I look like a girl," he said, flatly.

"Possibly not one from this century," she said, and then caught his expression. "Sorry. What did you want me to do?"

"Er – Ginny said that you were good with a needle, and I was wondering if you could make them a bit less…"

"Pride, Prejudice and Zombies?"

He nodded helplessly.

Amelia looked closely at the offensive garments. There wasn't a huge amount to work with, but still…

"Alright, I'll see what I can do," she said, folding the robes up as neatly as the lace allowed. Ron sagged in relief.

"Thanks, Miss! What can I do in return?" he asked, earnestly.

Amelia thought about it, smiling slightly at how well Molly and Arthur had raised their children.

"I can think of three things, actually – two are a bit more long-term if you're game."

Ron just waited, expectantly; well, they were awful robes.

"I need someone to dig up the last of my winter veg' in the allotment," she said, waving a hand at the tiny garden in the window. "Which takes longer than you might imagine – it's bigger on the inside."

"Cool," said Ron, with feeling. "Hermione was telling me about it – we can't figure out how it works."

Amelia laughed.

"Nor can I," she laughed. "You'd have to ask Professor Flitwick. The second thing I want you to do is get the highest grades you can this year. Quite apart from setting you in good stead for the O.W.L.s next year, your Mum and Dad will be dead chuffed."

She chuckled at Ron's dubious expression. "And don't think you can't do it – anyone as good as you are at chess has to have a brain in there somewhere."

He very nearly preened.

"And the third thing?" he asked.

"Keep Harry Potter alive."

0o0o0o0

The Hogwarts staff, demonstrating a contining desire to impress the visitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, seemed determined to show the castle at its best this Christmas. When the decorations went up, Amelia noticed that they were much more impressive than the previous year. Everlasting icicles had been attached to the banisters of the marble staircase; the usual twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall were bedecked with everything from luminous holly berries, to real, hooting, golden owls, and the suits of armour had all been bewitched to sing carols whenever anyone passed. It was quite something to hear 'Oh Come All Ye Faithful' sung by an empty helmet that only knew half the words. The overall effect was like living in a giant, Christmastime shopping centre – the only thing missing, Amelia thought, was the obligatory grotto with Santa Claus and grumpy elves. It was impressive, but a little bit sickening.

Peeves had taken matters into his own, ectoplasmic hands and several times Filch had had to extract him from inside suits of armour, where he had taken to hiding, filling in the gaps in the songs with lyrics of his own invention – all of which were very rude. Amelia had had to stuff her fist into her mouth to stop herself laughing as she and Minerva had passed one on their way to the older witch's office one morning.

As part of her offer to help the choir, Amelia had been coaching a few of the students all term – and thoroughly enjoying herself. Unfortunately, this meant that Filius had overheard her singing and had roped her and a few other members of stuff into singing carols at the end of the concert. None of them were particularly enthusiastic about this concept.

It didn't go as badly as Amelia had thought it might, in the end. Filius had been very careful to coerce people in the right ranges; as it turned out Severus had a delightful bass singing voice, which Amelia, of course, lost absolutely no time in teasing him about.

"You sound like Leonard Cohen!"

"Leonard who? No, really, I don't need to know –"

"Tough," she grinned, dragging him off to her rooms for instruction.

Remus found Hermione and Ginny in the corridor outside the Great Hall, both wearing stormy expressions.

"Bad day?"

"The boys are being – well, boys," said Hermione, huffily.

"Ron asked Fleur Delacour out," Ginny explained. "Which was really funny up until the point when she turned him down and he proceeded to ask Hermione in the most offensive way possible…"

"'You're a girl, right?'" Hermione mimicked. "Honestly. I've only lived with them for three and a half years, you'd think they'd have noticed by now."

"Harry noticed," Ginny said, quietly, and Hermione's expression softened.

"Yes, but a bit too late…"

"We've both got dates already," said Ginny, a little sadly. Remus guessed that she'd been holding out for Harry – there had always been the suggestion of a crush there, and he could well imagine how having to turn him down must have felt.

"Anyway," she said, brightly. "I'm going with Neville, and he's a good friend."

"Probably the least likely to stand on your feet, at any rate," Remus chuckled, and the girls smiled a bit.

"And Hermione's going with –" Ginny paused. "Wait, is it still a secret?"

To Remus's surprise, Hermione blushed right to the roots of her hair.

"As long as you don't tell the boys," she said, and he nodded, happily complicit. "I'm going with Victor Krum."

Remus grinned as Ginny giggled at her friend's current complexion.

"There's clearly more to him than meets the eye," he said, and Hermione beamed.

"He's really sweet, actually," she said, eagerly, and then realised that she was talking to a Professor (even if he was the Professor her cousin was engaged to). She coughed.

Ginny decided to save her friend.

"I don't fancy heading back to the Common Room just yet," she said, darkly. "Ron'll be complaining for hours…"

"Would you mind if we went to visit Mel?" Hermione asked, still quite pink.

"I don't mind," he said, "but I wouldn't, if I were you – she's trying to get Severus to sing jazz. You can imagine how much he'd enjoy someone witnessing that…"

When they'd stopped laughing, he offered to let them into the other living room through the back door in his office.

"I don't think she'd mind if you borrowed her laptop to watch a film."

They were as quiet as he let them into their rooms, and he suspected that – happy as they were at the opportunity to watch anything that they wanted, as soon as he left the room they'd be back to complaining about the boys. He grinned. They were beginning to remind him of himself and Lily in the aftermath of any one of James's brilliant plans to win Lily over.

He wandered aimlessly around his office, staring out at the snow-covered grounds, sadly.

He missed them both terribly tonight, and – for all that he'd said to Amelia – he wished with all his might that he could see them again, just once.

0o0o0o0

Severus spent the first day of the Christmas holidays tidying his office. Truthfully, he was very much looking forward to the arrival of a certain red-haired osteologist, but he'd had no end of grief from the other members of the team when they'd found out that he was bringing a 'date' to the Yule Ball.

Honestly, he thought, savagely poking a few escapee rat tails back into their jar. What was the problem with people attending these things with their friends? Because that's what Hazel and I are, friends…

He caught his reflection in the glass of a cabinet and blushed crimson.

On hearing that Bones would be staying at the Three Broomsticks, Amelia had stepped in and offered her the spare room (Remus had transfigured the sofa into a bed), which suited everyone.

Even Severus thought it was a better idea, though it did mean that Amelia and Hazel could spend time gossiping, and if he refused to concede his attraction to her, he was at least certain that Amelia knew all about it. Particularly if her expression over lunch was anything to go by.

She caught up with him just inside the Entrance Hall, and looked him over. He felt oddly nervous, as if any criticism would send him back down to his rooms to rectify it. He had the urge to straighten his scarf. He shook himself, feeling ridiculous.

"Don't worry, I won't monopolise her time," she said, "she's here for you –"

"Actually, she said was excited to see you –"

"And I'm excited to see her too, but that's not the point." She gave him an encouraging pat on the back. "She didn't come all this way to gossip – and you know it."

He grimaced at her and walked out of the main doors.

"Severus," she called after him through the snow. "Just so you know, you hurt her and you're a dead man."

This really wasn't a good idea.

0o0

He'd been trying to put a brave face on it for half an hour before the Hogwarts Express arrived. He surveyed the train as it pulled in, unfamiliar butterflies settling in his stomach. It was funny, really, he'd forgotten how handsome the train was – he hadn't stepped foot on it since he was eighteen. He stared at the engine for a moment, just remembering.

Movement at the driver's compartment drew his attention and his bad mood promptly dissolved. Hazel Wells climbed out of the train, where she and Elspeth the trolley witch had been chatting.

She gave him a brilliant smile as she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and came over to shake his hand. Quite to his own surprise, a matching smile had formed on his face. It was unusual and a little unsettling.

"Severus – it's lovely to see you! It was so kind of you to invite me up here."

Not for the first time, Severus was profoundly glad that none of the departing students had reached the station yet as he felt a blush start around his collar.

"Welcome to Hogsmeade," he said, quite gruffly. "Er… Would you like a hand with that?" he asked, gesturing at her pack.

"Oh, no – I'll be fine," she gave him a warm smile, making him feel distinctly wrong footed. Just what were you supposed to say to someone you've invited up for a fortnight?

They set off together, up the track to Hogwarts, experiencing that slightly awkward silence that people who have hitherto mostly written to one another do. The snow was thick on the ground now, transforming the grounds into what looked like a giant Christmas cake.

"It's very beautiful up here," Hazel remarked. "Almost magical – if you'll pardon the pun."

Severus gave her a wry smile.

"Yes, that's what Amelia says – pun excused," he said. "Don't take it at face value, though – most of it can bite you – and will, I given half the chance."

"Oh, goody…" Hazel squinted at the trees as though expecting them to jump out and try to eat her.

"Most of the grounds are safe," Severus added, reassuringly. "But I wouldn't go wandering in the Forbidden Forest, it got its name for a reason. And avoid the Whomping Willow – I'll point that one out. And there's a Giant Squid in the Lake."

"Yes, I'd heard about him!" said Hazel, excitedly. "Though I expect he's hibernating."

"She keeps near to the lake-bed in the winter – but that makes her more visible fro the Dungeons. Magically reinforced glass windows…"

They crested the next rise and Severus was acutely aware that he was babbling. Fortunately, Hazel had caught sight of the castle and was thereafter unable to concentrate on anything else.

They managed to avoid the majority of the departing students heading down to the train as they crossed the grounds. The castle really was beautiful, Severus reflected as he pointed out the occasional landmark. He realised he'd become so used to the shape of things now that he'd forgotten. It was good to be reminded.

Hazel seemed just as intrigued by the Beauxbatons' carriage and the Durmstrang warship as she was by everything else. Severus smiled internally – she was acting just the same as Amelia had when she'd first come to Hogwarts; he wondered just how much time the two of them had spent together to become so similar.

The inside of the castle was just as fascinating, with its (currently singing) suits of armour and mobile paintings. Many of the portraits, Severus noted, were taking an equal amount of interest in Hazel as she was in them. He scowled.

And why shouldn't I be escorting a visitor through the castle? he thought, carefully omitting the words 'young', 'beautiful', 'intriguing' and 'dressed as a Muggle' from his internal monologue.

Much to his surprise, he was actually enjoying the nuances of Hogwarts life to Hazel – so much so that he was practically glowing.

Which, he decided, was probably why several of the students they passed in the corridors gave her looks of such astonishment. One of them was so utterly derailed by seeing the usually dour Potions Masters laughing and joking with a mysterious young woman that he walked headlong into a suit of armour that complained loudly at him as he picked himself up.

0o0

Lucas Green, a Hufflepuff fifth-year, hurried to the Hospital Wing to ease his sprained wrist, and told Madam Pomfrey all about the beautiful and mysterious woman that Professor Snape was escorting through the castle.

Naturally, as soon as Poppy had patched the stunned young man up and sent him on his way she practically sprinted to the greenhouses to pass the information on. So it was that while Amelia was subjecting her friend to a flying hug – and Remus was nearly wetting himself at Severus's expression – gossip was spreading through the staff room like the Hogwarts equivalent of Chinese Whispers.

When the assorted teachers wandered up to dinner, eagerly anticipating giving Severus a good ribbing, none of them paid any attention to Sybill Trelawny. She had been sitting in the corner of the staff room for a good twenty minutes, bolt upright and looking unusually observant.

So…

0o0o0o0

Hazel was just as delighted with the Great Hall as Amelia had been, a year and a half earlier – and given the level of splendour heaped on the impress the visiting schools, she spent most of the main course staring around in unabashed wonder.

It wasn't unusual for the friends and family of the staff to visit during the holidays, and even less unusual for them to be present at the High Table, but the appearance of so obviously Muggle a visitor made her the centre of attention.

To her credit, if she noticed this level of enthusiastic observation amongst the dining students she didn't let it show, instead engaging in polite conversation with Severus on one side and Amelia on the other – the latter trying really hard not to slip into the manner of behaviour that had been the norm' at University. It wasn't easy, particularly as she and Bones had always gravitated towards one another, and had accumulated the kind of reputation that sent substitute teachers running for the hills. It was incredible what one could get away with, with a detailed appreciation of the rules.

For her part, Hazel was doing her best not to stare at some of the room's more unusual occupants – and not to gasp in surprise as the main course vanished and was replaced with an array of delicious puddings. She even managed not to jump after dinner when, curious as ever, Nearly Headless Nick and the Fat Friar introduced themselves with a flourish.

"Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington at your service, my lady," he said, kissing her hand with lips that felt like ice. "Gryffindor ghost."

"Everyone calls me the Fat Friar," said the rotund spectre cheerfully, clapping her on the back with a hand that felt like a splash of frigid sea-spray.

"Charmed," Hazel smiled. "Amelia has mentioned you – favourably, of course."

"Of course!" grinned the Fat Friar. "We like our little mystery, eh Nick!"

Nearly Headless Nick did the ghostly equivalent of nudging his friend in the ribs.

"Don't know what you mean. Er – ladies," he bowed awkwardly, and was about to usher the sputtering cleric away when, true to form, his head lolled off to one side.

"Oh, wow," said Hazel, stunned.

"I beg your pardon, dear lady," Nick mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

"Not at all – did you know that you have a truly unusual cervical spine?"

"I – I do?" asked Nick, nonplussed. Somewhere behind him, Amelia grinned.

"Yes, actually. I'm an osteologist, you see – and that's classic osteophytosis."

"Nope, we've lost her," said Amelia, as Hazel led the stunned ghost away.

0o0

Severus was somewhat at a loss. What did one do if their guest was engrossed in conversation with someone else?

Not that Nearly Headless Nick could be considered a threat, and not that he was jealous – because he wasn't (why would he be?), but he simply didn't know how to behave in complex social situations.

To make matters worse, he could feel Moody's magical eye fixed on the back of his head, and it was beginning to give him a headache. Fortunately (possibly, although Severus wasn't entirely sure), Minerva chose that moment to grill him on his new friend.

"So, Severus, inviting a young lady to the Yule Ball are we?" she gave him a briskly evil smirk, lest any students catch it.

Severus scowled at her.

"Oh, don't look so crotchety," she admonished, cheerfully. "You know full well that we would – enjoy the moment – just as you would if it were any of the rest of us." She allowed him a rare smile. "You're one of the family."

Not knowing quite how to adequately express how touched he felt, Severus simply nodded.

"It's good to see you making friends… how did you meet, anyway?"

It was odd, Severus reflected, as he recounted their encounter on the trains – usually being forced to give information away annoyed him beyond belief, but for some reason, tonight he was content to talk.

He'd always assumed that the majority of the staff at Hogwarts tolerated him at Dumbledore's urging, or because of his skill with a cauldron. They were all friendly in a professional way, of course, discussing students or lesson plans and bickering about house rivalries or grading differences, but Severus had thought that – with the exception of Amelia and Lupin – that was as far as it went.

Perhaps he'd been mistaken.

This suspicion found new ground when Moody decided to interrupt Hazel's path back towards him and drop sizeable hints about his murky past.

As his unusually buoyant heart plummeted, he was astonished to see Amelia and Remus tactfully lead Hazel off to introduce Martin Dockrill (whose brother she apparently knew), and who spent much of their conversation glaring at Moody over Amelia's shoulder.

Filius and Pomona immediately engaged Moody in conversation and steered him off across the Hall to Dumbledore. If he hadn't known better, he'd have said they were intervening on his behalf.

When Filius gave him a sly wink as Minerva's back was turned, Severus was so surprised that he even forgot to sneer. He was still talking to Minerva – inevitably, it seemed, about the Triwizard Tournament, when Hazel appeared beside him.

"You must be Miss Wells," said Minerva, "Minerva McGonagall."

Hazel shook her proffered hand cheerfully.

"Please, call me Hazel," she smiled. "I'm afraid I've lost Amelia and Remus somewhere – perhaps you could walk me to their rooms, Severus? Travelling always makes me tired…"

"Oh – yes, of course."

He was aware that his cheeks were turning red and scowled at Minerva when she gave him a knowing smile.

"Goodnight Minerva."

"Goodnight," she said, an approving smile on her prim face.

As Severus expected, Remus and Amelia were waiting for them on the first floor landing, canoodling in a rare, portrait-less corner of the corridor.

"Subtle," he said, dryly.

"We thought so," Amelia smiled sweetly.

"That Mad-Eye character was…" Hazel hesitated. "Interesting."

"Bloody rude, more like," said Amelia, with distaste.

"He can be very forthright," said Remus uncomfortably. Severus guessed that he hadn't approved of his old friend's tactics.

He felt pretty uncomfortable about it himself. He hadn't told Hazel about his early career, but given her expression, Amelia had. She patted his hand gently and fell in step with him as Remus and Amelia moved ahead, arm in arm and bickering contentedly.

"Er – I don't know how much you know about my past," he began, but Hazel interrupted.

"Enough to know that I'm proud of you for leaving in behind – and for trying to tell me… I realise that must have been what you were hinting at in the summer."

Severus sighed, crestfallen.

"Amelia wrote to you about it?"

"Of course she did, she was upset."

"And…?" he asked, feeling wretched.

"And I told her to ask you about it – which she must have done, since she's speaking to you again. Besides," she continued, matter-of-factly, "we've all done spectacularly silly things that we don't particularly want our friends to know."

Severus stopped and caught her arm.

"Thank you," he said gruffly.

"For what?"

"For persuading Amelia to give me a second chance," he said haltingly, "and for believing that I can be a better man than I was…"

Hazel smiled, and to his utter disbelief, kissed him lightly on the cheek before hurrying to catch the others up.

He stood there for a few moments, cheeks burning, gaping after her, before realising that the nearest portraits were sniggering at him.

Scowling, he followed his friends.

0o0

The evening passed much as could be expected, the men's attention drifting as Amelia and Hazel caught up on the gossip, such as it was.

"… and they're still building that damn' silly boat thing on the side of Health Studies."

"Really?" Amelia sounded dismayed. "Is it still going to be orange?"

"Eventually. Currently it looks like a ferry-shaped nuclear bunker."

Amelia snorted into her glass of wine.

"Not a potential venue for the wedding then," Remus joked and both women giggled, far more girlishly than usual. Severus rolled his eyes.

"Change of subject required," said Amelia, bouncing a pillow off her fiancé's head.

"How's your Animagus training going?" Severus asked, obligingly.

"Great – I'm still not used to the fur, though."

"What's an Animagus?" Hazel asked. "Does it have anything to do with amigurumi?"

"No, it's –"

"Amigurumi?" Severus asked, interested.

"Little crocheted creatures."

"No, it's turning into an animal."

"Like Animorphs?"

"Sort of," said Amelia, as Remus and Severus shared a look of confusion, "but it's limited to only one or two forms – almost like having a totem animal, but one you can turn into. And no aliens or blue centaurs."

Hazel looked mildly crestfallen.

"No centaurs? I don't know, you bring me into a world of magic and then crush my hopes of meeting bona fide magical creatures."

"Centaurs exist – just not blue ones," said Amelia. "And there were dragons around not one month ago – I took pictures."

"And there's a Whomping Willow," added Severus, "and a Giant Squid – and untold horrors in the Forbidden Forest…"

"Acromantula, for example," Amelia interrupted.

"That's never been proved –"

"I believe Harry and Ron ran into a nest of them in their second year – though I'd hesitate to substantiate this, given your predilection for punishing the dynamic duo."

"Yes," chuckled Remus. "I note you've left Hermione out recently."

"Naturally," said Severus, raising his glass in acknowledgment. "If I didn't Amelia would throttle me."

Across the room, Amelia nodded happily.

"And I'm not wholly certain that Miss Granger wouldn't similarly oblige me."

Hazel grinned.

"Of course she would, she's related to Mel."

Remus chuckled, gently nudging them back to their original conversation.

"There are also unicorns in the Forbidden Forest, and Filius is part-goblin – you met him earlier… and I'm sure that Hagrid would be more than willing to show you his Skrewts."

Hazel took one look at Amelia and the two women dissolved into helpless laughter.

Remus blushed.

"You know perfectly well what I mean – well, one of you does, at any rate," he huffed. "Really. There's nothing funny about Hagrid's Blast Ended Skrewts!"

It was clear that the two women on the sofa were beginning to have difficulty breathing; Remus's mouth twitched upwards of its own accord. Even Severus was chuckling quietly.

"And then there's me," said Remus, changing the subject.

Everybody stopped laughing.

He gave Hazel a grim smile.

"Does it – forgive me, I shouldn't ask."

"Nonsense – if there's something I don't want to answer then I won't," he allowed, graciously. "Besides as you're part of Amelia's extended family I expected to be checked up on." He gave her a light smile. "If you're anything like Amelia you'll be itching to find out about it."

Hazel blushed and glanced at Amelia for her permission, which she gave with a very slight nod.

"Does it hurt?" Hazel asked, softly.

"Yes," said Remus. "A great deal. Every single bit of me has to change in some way or another. It's easier with the potion, but it's still unpleasant."

They were all quiet now, half fascinated, half horrified; Amelia laid her hand on her fiancé's back.

"Are you a wolf or… erm…" Hazel asked.

"Something scarier?" Remus finished, grimacing. "Again, it depends on the potion, With it, I'm a harmless wolf –"

"And a cute one, when you're not trying to eat post-owls."

Remus made a face.

"But without it…" he glanced at Severus and Amelia. "Well…"

Amelia's hand had unconsciously grazed the scars on her neck. She had told her friends that it had been some kind of wild animal attack; only Beatrice knew the full story. It wasn't that she didn't trust her friends – and, after all, they knew about Remus's condition – but she knew it was something he wasn't proud of. If she were honest with herself, she wasn't quite sure how they'd take it – how did you broach that particular subject? Oh, by the way – this is my fiancé – he's a wizard and a werewolf… oh, and he very nearly ripped my throat out last July…

Aunt Bea hadn't reacted well at first, demanding to know what Amelia thought she was playing at, taking up an abusive relationship, making all the same mistakes over again… Of course, once she'd seen how much Remus loved her, and his expression whenever his eyes strayed to her scars, Bea had softened up a lot.

Hazel hadn't missed Amelia's hand movement. The group as a whole had had their suspicions about the owner of the claws that had made them, but Remus had turned out to be such a pleasant young man, and they had all decided that he couldn't possibly have meant to hurt their friend. Some questions though, needed to be asked.

"How did you catch it?" she asked, watching Amelia out of the corner of her eye. "Was it – a – curse, or a bite, or a scratch?"

Amelia frowned.

"I was bitten," Remus said, simply. "It is a curse, but the curse is in the infected bite – there's said to be some effects from a scratch, but they're minimal."

"You know," said Severus, noting Amelia and Hazel's expressions, "I've always wondered where werewolves come from – originally, I mean."

Remus nodded.

"We're supposed to have been around for millennia," he said. "Some cave paintings have been interpreted as depicting werewolf transformations…"

Amelia and Hazel, who had seen more than a few questionable cave paintings in their time, both snorted.

"Yes, but to be fair I once saw a cave painting of a bloke on skis doing something highly inappropriate to a surprised looking moose," said Amelia. "Not everything recorded is accurate."

"I think I've seen the one you mean," said Hazel. "Most of the images in that collection suggest that the inhabitants of those caves were smoking something truly impressive."

Severus snorted.

"No, really, we had a worksheet on it."

"It's interesting that there's no origin myth for werewolves," Amelia mused. "I mean – take vampires. They're all supposed to have sprung from Judas."

"Judas – as in the disciple who betrayed Jesus?" Severus asked with a frown.

"Yes, he hanged himself," said Remus. "Vampirism is supposed to be God's punishment for his double betrayal."

"Sounds a bit dubious to me," said Amelia. "I mean, I'm pagan so I may have this wrong, but isn't God supposed to be kind and forgiving?"

"I suppose some things are harder to forgive than others."

"Even so, that's no reason to inflict vampirism on the rest of us – we've got more than enough problems as it is."

Remus nodded.

"There's also the fact that vampires have been recorded in texts that predate Christianity."

"Bit of a giveaway, that."

There were general noises of agreement.

"I think one of the problems," said Remus quietly, "is that lycanthropy is often associated with madness, torture and cannibalism. There're a lot of things that have been attributed for werewolves that were the result of insanity."

Amelia nodded.

"There was that French nobleman that would steal children from the neighbouring lands and torture them to death – said he's got the whole thing from Suetonius. He reckoned that because he'd confessed his sins to God and done 'great works' in his name that he was fully absolved and free to keep killing."

"The authorities at the time commented that he'd suffered from a form of lycanthropy," said Remus, glumly.

"Well, that's humans for you," said Hazel. "If there's an apparently inexplicable event, call it a curse."

Amelia glanced at the clock.

"And on that depressing note, I think it's time for bed…" she said, pointedly collecting hers and Remus's glasses. It took a few seconds but he eventually got the message.

"Er – let me give you a hand…" Remus coughed, gathering a few more glasses together and following his fiancée into their other room.

Severus stared at the closed door for a few seconds; they were incorrigible.

"They're awful, aren't they," remarked Hazel, telepathically, giving him a warm smile.

Severus managed a smile that was probably more of a grimace, and they sat in awkward silence for a few moments before Severus gave up and decided to flee.

"I should, er –" he began, getting to his feet.

"Yes, I suppose…"

"Well…"

"Yes."

"Er, goodnight," he mumbled, deeply embarrassed.

"Goodnight, Severus," she said, kissing him gently on the cheek.

He was rather incoherent as he hurried out of the door and fled to the safety of the Dungeons, cheeks burning.

He closed the door to his rooms, firmly, and caught a glimpse of how red he was in the glass above the fireplace.

Idiot! he thought.