April/May 1994.

"If only there had been a Dementor around.... As a sobbing Wood passed Harry the Cup, as he lifted it into the air, Harry felt he could have produced the world's best Patronus."

"Have you heard?" professor Vector asked anxiously, as Remus sat down for breakfast.

"Uhm, no. What should I have heard?" He helped himself to some tea.

"Hagrid had lost his case. His hippogriff is going to be executed," she told him. Remus had been about to lift his cup to his lips, but his hand stopped halfway, in mid-air.

"What?!"

"I just heard it from Dumbledore. It's got to do with that Malfoy kid, you know."

"Draco," Remus muttered.

"Yes. Apparently his father persuaded the judges that the poor animal should be executed. And well, Lucius Malfoy´s a bit more influential than Hagrid…"

Remus glanced at the Slytherin table. Draco looked particularly taken with himself today. He had a smug look on his face as he unwrapped the daily supply of sweets from home. His arm wasn't bandaged anymore, no doubt to make sure he seemed well enough again to play in the Quidditch final.

"Yes, he's a nasty one, that Malfoy boy," sighed Vector. "Luckily, I never had the privilege to teach him."

"Trust me, you don't want to," Remus commented. He decided that would walk down to Hagrid's this afternoon, to see how he was, and to check on some magical creatures Remus needed for his class.

~*~

"An' here are them Flubberworms."

"Fascinating," said Remus dully, staring at the long brownish worms.

"I knew ye'd like 'em," said Hagrid, sounding equally as enthusiastic.

"So the board's decided to bore the students to death?" Remus tried to get some life into the Flubberworms by waving some lettuce above their… he couldn't see whether it was it's head or it's rear end. Either way, he got no reaction.

"Looks like it." Hagrid´s face suddenly lit up. "Wait a minute, I got somethin' ye might like." He hurried off to his cabin, and Remus had barely time to wonder what he might return with, when Hagrid came back, apparently with nothing.

"Lill' things are so small they fit in me pocket," he beamed. He took something fuzzy out of his pocket and scooped it into Remus' hand.

A Puffskein.

It was really quite cute and cuddly. It hummed softly, and Remus could feel the tiny heart racing inside the small animal. Its fur was soft, almost feathery light.

Pity really that Remus associated those cute little animals with big fangs that ripped your body open, screaming, and blood flowing everywhere.

He broke into a cold sweat.

"That's a Puffskein, lill' thing. They're fer them fourth years." Hagrid hadn't noticed Remus' discomfort. "Much to easy of  course – a toddler can take care of those animals." 

The Puffskein opened a small mouth and stuck out a long, thin, pink tongue. It carefully moved around with it, softly touching Remus' wrist. It was a softly tickling, wet and sticky feeling, and left behind a thin trail of saliva. Remus staggered backwards, almost throwing the small humming animal on the ground. Hagrid finally noticed something was wrong.

"You okay?" he asked. "'e ain't gonna bite you or anything. Completely harmless, they are."

Remus wasn't so sure of that. "No, of course not," he managed to say, and even forced a small smile on his face. "I just… I need to get back to the castle." He nearly tossed the Puffskein to Hagrid. "Sorry. Uh, I really got to go."

"Oh, well, okay…" Hagrid tucked the Puffskein back in his pocket. "See you at dinner then…"

Remus positively fled, half-running, and only stopped when he was back in his own office. He leaned against the door, gasping for breath.

"Sure, Puffskeins are completely harmless animals, even a toddler can handle them," he muttered sarcastically. "Dangerous, murderous animals, those are." He pulled a face and sat down at his desk. He pulled a pile of essays closer and started grading them, anything to set his mind on something else but a humming, soft Puffskein.

~*~

He was still feeling a bit shaky when he walked down for dinner that evening. He wasn't exactly in a talkative mood, and that was apparently visible on his face, because for once in his life Flitwick kept his mouth shut during dinner. Except for eating, of course.

Those who were talking had only a two topics on their mind: the Easter holidays, and the Quidditch final, which would be played the weekend after the holidays. It was Gryffindor versus Slytherin, and the house rivalry blossomed like never before. Even in the staffroom; while professors McGonagall and Snape usually treated each other rather civilly and sometimes almost friendly (though both of them would sooner face Avada Kedavra than admit it), their behaviour towards one another was now downright hostile. Remus had so far managed to stay out of these fights; he had enough trouble with Snape as it was. The full moon was drawing near again, and getting the Wolfsbane Potion every evening was slowly becoming torture. Remus had never expected to be wanting to have Snape say something. Every time Remus drank the potion, the Potion Master merely stood there, with a smile that could make a snake's blood run cold. Image what it did to Remus' blood…

He finished his dinner and went upstairs, to his chambers. He was feeling around in his pocket, looking for his key, and thinking about when he was going to pick up his goblet of Wolfsbane, when he suddenly noticed the small, white box in front of his door.

Huh?

He glanced to both sides, but the corridor was deserted, so he picked up the box and went inside. When he placed it on his desk, he noticed there was a note attached to it with Spellotape. He unrolled it after another curious look at the box.

Though you might like it.

Hagrid.

This should've made all alarmbells inside Remus' head ring like mad, but he heard nothing. He lifted the lid of the box and saw –

O God no.

- a small, custard-coloured thing that most closely resembled a furry tennisball. It suddenly proved it was alive by starting a soft humming, and it wobbled a bit.

Of all the creatures in the world, Hagrid had send him a Puffskein.

"Well, I'm not keeping you," he told the animal. Somebody knocked on the door. "And as soon as I know who's knocking, you're out of here," he finished, hoping he sounded threatening. Judging from the Puffskein´s even louder purring, he did not.

It was Dumbledore who had been knocking. "Good evening, Remus," he said. "I didn't know you had visitors."

"Well, I don't," Remus replied grumpily. "Not for long, at least." He let the Headmaster in. "What brings you here?"

Dumbledore held out a goblet of Wolfsbane. "This. I offered Severus to bring you this. I thought it wise to do so, because I had the feeling Severus isn't feeling very charitable towards Gryffindors this evening."

"You mean more than usual?" Remus said dryly. "What happened?" Dumbledore´s eyes twinkled amusedly.

"Minerva and he got into a rather loud argument about the upcoming Quidditch match. Apparently, Severus didn't agree with Minerva's statement that the Slytherin team had a tendency to, ah, re-interpret the rules."

"How surprising."

"And well, seeing as how much you two like each other, I thought it better to bring you the Wolfsbane Potion this evening."

Remus took the goblet from Dumbledore and swallowed its extends in three large gulps. He shuddered involuntarily. "Ugh."

"Cheers," muttered Dumbledore, always the cheerful one. "Before I forget to mention it; who were you talking to?"

"Oh, no one in particular," said Remus hastily. He didn't want to go into a long explanation. Of course, he should've know that Dumbledore´s curiosity wasn't so easily satisfied.

"Really? That's not what I heard." Remus sighed. The Headmaster was sometimes such a nuisance…

"Okay, It's something I got from Hagrid. Here, see?" He held the box under Dumbledore´s nose. "I was about to get rid of it when you came in." Dumbledore peered inside the box.

"But why would you want to get rid of such an endearing animal?" he said. He scratched the Puffskein with one finger, and the tiny animal hummed louder.

Remus rolled his eyes. He could already see where this was going: Dumbledore would demand an explanation for trying to get rid of the Puffskein, Remus would stammer something that wouldn't satisfy the Headmaster, and he'd end up keeping the animal anyway. It didn't take a Seer to predict that.

"I don't like Puffskeins," he said flatly, hoping that was enough reason for Dumbledore. Guess what? It wasn't.

"Don't like Puffskeins?" Dumbledore repeated, on a tone that suggested that Remus had stated he didn't like Harry or something. "How can you not like them?"

"Hm, something that happened when I was a child."

Dumbledore said nothing, but waited patiently for more. Utterly frustrating.

"Do know how… how I was bitten?" Remus finally said.

"No. I've always waited for you to tell me."

Remus sighed, scraping his courage together. "When I was five, I had a Puffskein, called… it doesn't matter what he was called." 

"What was he called?"

"Uhm, Fuzzy." Remus felt his cheeks redden. "Never mind that. Anyway, one day the stupid thing decided to take a walk in the forest near our house. I went looking for it. No points for guessing what I found instead. Two days later my parents brought the Puffskein to the Magical Animal Shelter, because I screamed every time I saw it."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "I can imagine you don't like them after that." He peered inside the box again. "But they're such loveable creatures. Why don't you give this one a chance to redeem its kind. Fuzzy the second."

"If I'm going to name him anything, it'll most likely be Monster or something," Remus said grumpily.

"Think about it. It never hurts to give somebody a second chance, I always say." With that, Dumbledore left, and it wasn't until the Headmaster had closed the door behind him, that Remus noticed he couldn't bring himself to get rid of the Puffskein. Dumbledore had succeeded.

"But one… toe…" Do they have toes? "out of line and you're out of here!" he warned, but it didn't sound half as threatening as he intended it.

Monster merely purred.

~*~

The crowd roared when the two Quidditch teams walked out onto the field. Three of the four houses were waving scarlet banners and flags, and were cheering for the Gryffindors. On the other side of the field, the Slytherins formed a mass of green. Snape was sitting in the front row, his arms crossed in front of his chest and an icy smile on his face. Instead of his usual black, he was wearing green like the rest of the Slytherins.

Remus zoomed his Omnioculars in on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, meanwhile listening to Lee Jordan's commentary.

"And here are the Gryffindors!" yelled Lee. "Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years –"

The Slytherins booed, but they were barely audible because of the massive cheering from the other houses.

"And here come the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint," Lee continued. "He's made some changes in the line-up and seems to be going for size rather than skill –"

The Slytherins booed again, while the two captains shook hands. Judging from the look on their face, both of them were trying to break each other's fingers.

The fourteen players and Madam Hooch mounted their brooms, Madam Hooch blew her whistle… and they were off. Lee's commentary was nearly drowned in the roar of the crowd.

"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinner of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no – Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the field – WHAM! – nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by – Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina – nice swerve around Montague – duck, Angelina, that's a Bludger! SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

Angelina had scored Gryffindor´s first goal, and the crowd showed – or rather sounded – it's approval. Angelina punched the air victoriously, but was nearly thrown from her broom; Marcus Flint flew right into her.

"That was intentionally!" squeaked professor Flitwick. Flint raised his hands apologetically, but the crowd didn't buy it and booed. Fred Weasley didn't buy it either: he threw his Beaters club to Flint, who got hit on the head. He hit his broom face-forward, and his nose began to bleed. An angry Madam Hooch flew up to them. 

"That will do!" she shrieked. "Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!"

"Come off it, Miss!" Fred protested, but Madam Hooch was inexorable. Alicia flew up to take the penalty, and a tense silence filled the pitch.

"Come on, Alicia!" yelled Lee, breaking the silence. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

A still bleeding Flint flew in position to take the penalty for Slytherin.

"'Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee Jordan told the crowd as Flint waited for Madam Hooch's whistle. "Superb! Very difficult to pass – very difficult indeed – YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!"

Remus zoomed in on Harry again. The Gryffindor Seeker was scanning the pitch, as expected, followed closely by Draco Malfoy. Malfoy had a simple tactic: let Potter find the Snitch, just be there in time to catch it. Dead simple and worthy of a Slytherin.

He was suddenly drawn back to the game when Lee Jordan screamed "THAT WAS DELIBERATE!"

Montague, one of the Slytherin´s Chasers, had seized Katie Bell's head instead of the Quaffle. Madam Hooch immediately blew her whistle, scolded at Montague and gave Gryffindor another penalty. Not even a minute later, Katie had scored another goal for Gryffindor.

"THIRTY-ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING –"

"Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way –" Professor McGonagall gave Lee a glare one would rather expect from Snape. 

"I'm telling it like it is, Professor!"

Harry suddenly drew all attention to him by diving down towards on of the Slytherin goal posts. Malfoy sped after him. The two Slytherin beaters, Bole and Derrick, tried to stop Harry by beating two Bludgers towards him, but he avoided them by flying upwards, and the two Slytherins hit each other with a sickening crash.

"Ha haaa!" yelled Lee Jordan as the Slytherin Beaters lurched away from each other, clutching their heads. "Too bad, boys! You'll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt. And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle – Flint alongside her – poke him in the eye, Angelina! – it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke – oh no – Flint in possession, Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goal posts, come on now, Wood, save –!"

But alas, Flint scored, and the Slytherins cheered loudly. Lee swore badly, so much in fact that professor McGonagall grabbed the magical megaphone and tried to tug it away.

"Sorry, Professor, sorry!" Lee said. "Won't happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession --"

What followed was one of the dirtiest Quidditch matches Remus had ever seen. The Slytherins used a lot of fouls he had read only in Quidditch Through the Ages, and Madam Hooch was getting angrier and angrier. The Beaters didn't seem to mind whether they hit a Bludger or a Quidditch player.

The number of points Gryffindor had scored, slowly raised until they were sixty points ahead. The Gryffindors became tense and anxious; if Harry catched the Snitch now, they would win the match and the cup. Harry suddenly dived down, and the crowd roared, cheering him on. Remus followed the Seeker closely through his Omnioculars, when suddenly –

"That's a FOUL! What is he doing?!"

Draco Malfoy had grabbed the Firebolt's tail and was pulling it back, thus keeping Harry from getting the Snitch. The pitch completely exploded with the angry roar of the crowd. Remus couldn't help but glance at Snape. The head of Slytherin house didn't seem angry, however, just mildly disturbed. He appeared to be more concerned that the use of fouls could lose Slytherin the cup, than that they were actually using fouls. 

Madam Hooch, meanwhile, had shot up to where Harry and Malfoy were, and she was shouting furiously at Draco. She wasn't the only one; Lee Jordan was completely beside himself.

"YOU CHEATING SCUM!" he was howling into the megaphone. "YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B –" He quickly got out of McGonagall´s reach, but she didn't notice it because she was too busy shouting herself. She shook her hand at Malfoy, and her hat had fallen off.

Alicia took Gryffindor's penalty, but she was so angry she missed by several feet. The Gryffindor team was so distressed by Malfoy´s tactics that they were loosing their concentration, and Slytherin was taking advantage of that.

"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal – Montague scores –" Lee groaned. "Seventy- twenty to Gryffindor..."

Angelina got hold of the Quaffle, and she sped up to the goal hoops, hoping to score. The Slytherin team all turned in unison and streaked up the pitch, towards her. Even the Keeper did it, hoping to block her. They didn't notice that Harry also turned his broom and flew almost twice as fast in their direction. They didn't notice it until it was almost too late, and they hurried to get out of the way. Angelina´s way was clear, and she scored. Gryffindor was now in the lead by eighty points to twenty.

Harry nearly crashed into the Slytherin stands – some of them booed him as he turned and flew to the middle of the pitch again.

In the mean time, nobody of the Gryffindors had been watching Malfoy, and the Slytherin seeker had used this time to race after the Snitch, which no one had noticed until now. Harry went down faster than he would've when he'd jumped off his broom. He avoided a Bludger, knocked Malfoy´s hand out of the way –

And caught the Snitch. 

"YES!" Remus jumped off his seat, on his feet, and punched his hand in the air. Right after that, he looked around guiltily, but everybody was too busy screaming their lungs out to notice it.

The Gryffindors came down in a tight-knit group, the six other players hugging Harry tightly. Their fellow housemembers streamed onto the field, while the Slytherin part of the crowd was a sea of cold, stunned silence. Snape looked as though the first person to say something to him, even something as innocent as 'we're enjoying fine weather today, aren't we?' would have his or her head hexed on backwards. Meaning that the head would come out at the feet, that is.

The Gryffindors seemed completely out of their minds, jumping up and down, screaming and waving red banners. The team was hoisted onto the shoulders of the crowd and carried towards the stand, where Dumbledore stood waiting with the cup. He had an enormous smile on his face as he gave the cup to a sobbing Oliver Wood. The Quidditch captain clutched the cup for a moment, relishing the first time Gryffindor had won the cup since Charlie Weasley. Then he passed the shiny, golden cup to Harry, who looked all like the champion he was when he lifted the cup high up into the air.