A/N: Now that we've all agreed the last chapter was bad... Lily and I will discuss things tonight. It's not often that we fudge up when we work together, but you, dear readers, and I seem to think that there's a first time for everything and last chapter was it.

Happy Fourth of July to all Americans. :-)

And thanks to reviewers auroraziazan, Ice, LaurelRose
(I intend to email you a reply... when I have the moment), lelegurl9, Moonrose (you too), R. Laurentiis (very nicely Latin, that is), Saerelle, and Zetta.

III - Lupin, Remus; Tuesday, 2:40


Minerva did not have far to go to find someone else interested in the fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

It was quite convenient for everyone involved to have Remus Lupin's consultation near the end of the day, where if their talk ran over the token ten minutes he wouldn't miss any more class than he'd already had. One might say that Minerva had been quite pleased it worked out that way. One might say that she had deliberately set about ensuring that this happened. One might say that she had noted the expediency of how easy it was to mix up the names of her next two Gryffindors - Remus Lupin, Proserpina Lutz. One might say she had purposefully taken Miss Lutz ahead of Lupin, anticipating the much easier and shorter nature of Miss Lutz's appointment.

Not that anyone would know, really. On the calendar it just looked as though old McGonagall had been afflicted with a bit of an off moment. The only person who might know was Lupin, and Minerva hoped that it wouldn't worry him unnecessarily.

Remus Lupin had the somewhat dubious honour of being Hogwarts first lycanthropic student. With it came the equally dubious responsibility of ensuring that he was not the last. Minerva knew that had worried Dumbledore - it had worried her as well. But they were halfway through his schooling and nothing had gone wrong yet.

For the most part, Lupin was a good student, with considerable magical and mental ability. He tended to get mixed up with some troublemaking every so often, which Minerva had to resign herself to being a fact of life when the student in question was a roommate and close friend to both Sirius Black and James Potter. His marks were nothing to be ashamed of, and he had enough of a work ethic to have landed him in Hufflepuff had Gryffindor not won out - despite missing classes monthly he always managed his schoolwork. Responsible, dutiful, respectful, and also quick to learn and to experiment. Not to mention quick-witted into the bargain. Had be been an ordinary young man Minerva would have never worried about him. Except that he wasn't.

It was strange, Minerva thought. She had a horde of exceptional adolescents on her hands, all with healthy minds and talents, and yet she still had to worry over them more than the mediocre ones.

She had to worry over Lupin because the prejudice and discrimination against werewolves was extremely high, especially so as of late because of the war and the fear it was striking into everyone's hearts. Lupin wasn't quite on the same level of brilliance as Black, Evans, and Potter (few were), but he should have had nearly as many doors open to him.

They weren't open. And Minerva wasn't sure which would be worse - if she was the one to have to tell the boy that, or if he already knew it.

The knock on the door came at precisely two-forty.

'Come in,' and, when she saw it was indeed Lupin, 'come in and take a seat. Close the door, as well.'

He did so, placing his schoolbag to the floor at the door. 'Didn't have time to put it back in my dormitory, sorry - ' Minerva nodded dismissively. Lupin had the same attack of eggshelly nerves that most everyone else had fallen prey to, if apologising for something so trivial was any sign.

Lupin was usually a surprisingly self-possessed young man, at least of the last two years or so. It could never be mistaken for Black's overconfidence, however; it was more likely to be mistaken for softness. Lupin was a sickly-looking boy whose transformations kept him slight and thin when the other wizards of his year were in the midst of growth spurts. Something, probably his typical consideration or the light brown hair that curled around his ears in a rather adorably boyish way, made all the girls who resisted Potter and Black's considerable charms gaze his way instead. Lupin's usual reaction was not to be flustered but rather to steadfastly ignore this.

'Well,' Minerva began. This was different from classes, where, of course, Lupin was any other student. She had modified her usual starting-off question slightly. 'Have you given any thought to your future after Hogwarts, Lupin?'

'Yes, ma'am. I've made several inquiries over the last summer, as well.'

He didn't look as though the response to the inquiries had been very encouraging. Minerva's usual expression softened sympathetically. 'And how did it go?'

Hesitating, he made an attempt to actually meet her eyes. 'Badly.' It was a very simple one-word review.

'Have you had a chance to discuss this with your parents at any point?'

Lupin shook his head. 'I haven't been able to contact either of them in several months. The last time we talked of it was before I came to Hogwarts, and things were a little - different, then.'

'At any rate, you're aware of what you're against.' Lupin nodded. 'There are quiet a few professions that you're out-and-out barred from. Elsewhere… there's quite some…' An appropriate word had fled from what vocabulary she could grasp.

'Quite some reluctance to hire a werewolf,' Lupin finished.

'Yes.' She considered him and then started rustling the reports that she had set at the ready.

He continued before she could. 'The best I can do, really, is to do well in the standarised tests.'

'From the looks of it, you'll be doing decently enough. Yes, you might as well work extra-hard in preparation - and what else I would suggest is taking on a well-rounded schedule for next year.' She ran her finger down Lupin's master sheet of current marks and averages. 'All year you've had a tendency to improve in all of your classes. I truly think it would be for the best to concentrate on quantity, which, trust me, is not the advice I usually give. If some opportunity comes up, it's in your best interest to have the credentials. It sounds harsh, however…'

'Beggars can't be choosers?' Lupin suggested wryly.

She gave him a slight warning look. That was not necessarily the mentality she wanted, not with such a promising student. 'Not quite the way I wanted to finish my sentence. However, you'll have to start somewhere to prove yourself. If that start comes up, it would be a shame to say you can't because you never earned a N.E.W.T. in one subject. Take everything you can. Let's see…'

Minerva considered things. When all was said, Lupin was only physically able to take ten classes. 'In most of the seven basic classes, you seemed poised for an O.W.L., and in many, you'll probably be invited to take the Advanced course. Potions…'

Lupin paled, which was saying something considering that he hadn't much colour to begin with. 'I'm much more worried about scraping an O.W.L.; I'll never get into the Advanced class.'

'Well, very well… it's a shame, very useful class… you've yet to earn an "Exceeds Expectations" in my Transfiguration class, and if you don't on the O.W.L. then that's also out… Astronomy - you've a consistent "Exceeds Expectations", but I assure you, it's not a subject that carries much weight in most fields, and I would advise you against it…' She scanned the parchment. 'In all the rest, however, you stand a good chance of an O.W.L. and advancement… yes, Lupin, History of Magic, too,' she said, amused at his groan. 'A N.E.W.T. in History of Magic is rarely a requirement, but in Ministry and journalism it's a weighty advantage, and journalism might be a possibility that's open to you…'

'What do you need to advance in History of Magic?' Lupin asked calmly, although Minerva knew full well that he would be complaining later to his roommates, out of her earshot.

'Just an O.W.L., a pass.' She felt compelled to add: 'If it were anything more the class would be smaller than it already is, and I assure you it's quite small.'

'All right. What about the other classes?'

'I advise you to try for advancement in the three you're taking, and to take additional O.W.L. courses for whatever classes you leave after this year, probably Transfiguration, Potions, and Astronomy, if not all of them. It leaves you with a very demanding schedule, so if you'd rather not it's understandable. However, the exam marks and experience might also help you.'

Lupin nodded.

'But I don't want you to neglect quality altogether - I see that you seem to be averaging "Outstanding" in Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Arthimancy. Gaining that mark in both the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s would be a great asset, and from what I'm reading your professors in all three subjects think that's possible. And I see no reason to get anything less than that in quite a few of your O.W.L.s.'

Lupin looked shocked. 'An "O", you mean?'

'Yes.'

His usual straightbacked posture fled him as he nearly collapsed in the chair. 'What're the "quite a few" O.W.L.s we're discussing here?'

'Quit the melodrama, Mr Lupin,' Minerva ordered dryly.

He frowned, looking thoroughly confused.

'It's a very simple conclusion to make,' Minerva said. 'You're one of the year's top students, and - '

He was staring at her incredulously. 'You're not speaking with James or Sirius or Lily Evans.'

'I know that, Lupin,' she snapped. 'And I really hope you're not comparing yourself to those three…' Then she realised he might well be. Rarely did anyone speaking of academics talk of anyone but the aforementioned three, and Dumbledore had never advocated posting class rank. She searched for her own copy.

'Concentrated in our House's fifth-years is an enormous amount of talent… Miss Evans and Misters Potter and Black are the sort of students we come across once a decade. Making comparisons about yourself to them is not a very good idea… here it is.' She unfurled it and smoothed it out. 'In an average of marks from all classes, we have those three, and the token few Ravenclaws… and then there you are.'

Lupin glanced at it. 'Oh,' he said sheepishly. 'I had no idea.'

'You should have. Academics are not the only criteria for selecting prefects, but it's a large part of it.' She nodded to his Gryffindor prefect badge. (Poppy Pomfrey had put up a very large fight against that particular selection. As it happened, Lupin did look considerably more haggard this year than he had any year before… but Minerva wasn't giving Poppy the satisfaction of admitting as much so long as Lupin was nowhere near a stressed-out nervous collapse.)

'Right,' she said briskly. 'Kindly do not mention to anyone that I showed you that… strictly speaking, it's not encouraged to show students the ranking. Now,' she continued, rolling it up, 'are we now quite clear on everything?'

'Yes, Professor.'

'Lastly, I encourage you to attend the evening lectures and to participate in the projects. It's one more thing to tack onto your schooling credentials, and the better they are, the better your chances.'

'All right.'

'Very well then.' She hesitated. At heart she was generally the worst of the softies, and she couldn't help but feel a few pricks of conscience at telling Lupin that his only chance for anything was to do just about everything, even though she wasn't at fault for the situation.

She hadn't once asked him what he had an interest in.

'What will you be looking into?' she enquired.

He visibly startled. 'Looking into?'

'Two years from now, what will you first be doing?'

'Asking Professor Dumbledore if there's anything to do in the war effort,' he said, promptly as Black had expressed his burning ambition to be entrepreneur of a Muggle mechanic garage.

Again! 'And if there's nothing?'

'Children's safehouses. They need overseers.'

She decided to continue in this vein. 'And if they won't allow you to? They're very edgy about lycanthropes around children, you know.'

'The Ministry pays for people to set up wards and guards for the families of at-risk or targeted Muggle-borns,' he replied. 'They're also running out of such people rather quickly, so I think they might be desperate enough to take me.'

'Your focus is becoming clear,' Minerva said. The attempt at dry levity failed.

He shrugged. 'What else is there to focus on? This wizard doesn't seem on the verge of stopping, and the most anyone seems to be able to do is damage control. In two years it might be that everyone needs to turn to the war effort anyway. You know,' he continued, gathering steam, 'war's a bit of a misleading way to put it, isn't it? War implies a disagreement between two parties where they fight against each other. Its purpose is political. Usually you don't find that one side is either completely right or completely wrong. This is completely different. This is a wizard who wants nothing less than complete domination and freedom to murder whoever he feels isn't worthy.'

Minerva was somewhat taken aback. So was Lupin, apparently; he finished this by cutting short and looking embarrassed.

'You're wrong only in that it's not merely a disagreement between two parties,' she replied. 'It is. Taken to extreme, ridiculous lengths. And, like most wars, the issue - pureblood and Muggles - is a red herring.' He nodded. 'So I see you've considered this quite seriously. Did you consider being an Auror?'

'That was one of the inquiries I made. They didn't have a definite answer, but it didn't look very hopeful, and I wasn't about to slave over Potions if it was going to come to nothing.'

'I see.' She paused, surveying him, and after noticing his discomfort at the long silence, said: 'Well, then this is about it, then. You'll be putting in a lot of studying, I hope?'

He nodded as he stood.

She was seized by a sudden, irrational curiosity. 'Lupin?'

'Yes'm?'

'Let's take away the factors of your lycanthropy and the war,' she said, not realising that just a short three days before she never referred to the current state as a 'war'. 'What would you be looking into then?'

'I - erm… w - I haven't thought about it.' His conscience apparently started immediately shouting at him, for he added quickly: 'Not much. But, well, I - I've considered - teaching.' He was reddening, and it didn't stop after he'd revealed this. In fact, he looked thoroughly and miserably embarrassed at admitting such a hopeless desire.

'Did you?' It didn't come as a complete shock. She had seen over the past year that Lupin volunteered for tutoring duty much more often than corridor patrol (something that other reluctant tutor-prefects were glad to hand to him).

'It was - I don't even know if - I may even like the idea because it came as a challenge, I don't know, but a lot of times back around second year my roommates would say to me that I could arrange such and such a class - mainly History of Magic - better than it had just been… and I thought they were insane, and told them so, but you know, as soon as I said it I started wondering how I could… and I like tutoring, here and back home… we live in a small village…'

She nodded, rather sadly. She was almost certain there was a clause in the Werewolf Code of Conduct barring that to him. 'Just curious. You could have - you would be able to do that. Well, you have a good evening.'

'You too, Professor McGonagall.' Lupin left in an extreme hurry.

TBC