Disclaimer: These characters and this world were thought up in the
brilliant mind of JKR, and I just borrowed them for this story. (Their
names, really, not so much their personalities.hehe.)
A/N: I have no idea where this came from.
--------
Professor Lupin lay sprawled out on the couch. His already patched and frayed robes were rumpled as if he had been wearing then for a week (and indeed he had) and a strong smell of Old Ogden's Firewhisky lingered faintly in his small living room. He was bored. Dead bored. Bored horribly and completely out of his mind.
Empty bottles littered the floor of that cramped room. Some of them were legitimate - Snape still brewed the anti-werewolf potion for him and sent over a beaker of it every full moon through Floo Express. But some of the glass containers - it must be admitted - were dodgy. Firewhisky, Ultra Butterbeer and Lupin's own brew, "Jazzy Ale" had once been inside them.
He was bored and had taken to drinking for one principle reason - he could not find work. No one would ever hire a known werewolf - with the exception of Albus Dumbledore, of course - but he could no longer work at Hogwarts after what happened at the end of last year.
Since no one would hire him, he attempted to be self employed - that's where "Jazzy Ale" came in. However, despite its snappy name, it tasted awful, for Lupin was abysmal at potions.
But Lupin had to find something to do soon. He had to face the truth once and for all: he was becoming - what shall we say - rotund, to be blunt. But he had no motivation to shed those unwanted "lbs".
Professor Dumbledore had a shrewd idea about what was happening to his former student. Lupin's letters to him were becoming longer and longer - and more suspicious, too. In the beginning of the summer, they had been hopeful and frank - Lupin outlined his many attempts and difficulties at getting a stable job, and inquired after Harry and Dumbledore's health. But as the months drew on, the letters started becoming more fantastic - a tall, thin, handsome, distinctly non-werewolf bitten man had apparently moved in next door to Lupin. His name was Sumer and he was "jiven" and well- loved by all those who met him, and he would spend hours and hours at Lupin's house playing "Beauty Parlor" and "Truth or Dare" well into the night. The most recent letters contained descriptions of beach parties with frantic games of "Yo-Ho Pirate" volleyball (but Lupin lived in the middle of the forest!) and huge concerts that 30,000 people attended - in Lupin's backyard nonetheless - where the only act was Lupin and Sumer singing soulful and classy duets (Dumbledore could only shake his head at that one).
The fact was - as the reader may have already guessed and Dumbledore knew deep in his heart - Sumer did not exist. He seemed to be everything Lupin wanted to be (especially a snappy dresser - two letters ago, Lupin described Sumer's appearance at a hip fashion show - all the clothes were designed by him and he was the only model), and Dumbledore had a strong suspicion that Sumer was just Remus spelled backwards.
'Poor Lupin,' he thought to himself.
Yes, indeed, Sumer was only a figment of Lupin's crazed imagination egged on by alcohol and boredom. In his mind he went on all kinds of trips and adventures with trusty Sumer by his side. In fact, for Lupin at least, Sumer had started coming out of Lupin's head and developing a physical shape - Lupin would have lengthy discussions with Sumer over every topic imaginable. If Lupin squinted his eyes just right, he could almost see his imaginary friend sitting at the other end of the sofa gesturing wildly while he gave a lengthy answer to Lupin's questions, all audible in Lupin's head.
Poor, poor Lupin, indeed.
Dumbledore desperately wanted to shake him out of his deluded day dreams - but he did not know how. He could not come to visit Lupin at the moment - he had pressing business he had to attend to concerning Aberforth and an escaped shipment of goats from the mountains of Nepal. He had tried in the past to invite Lupin - and Sumer of course, who never truly left his side - to visit him at Hogwarts, stay at Hogsmeade, and take a break from his action packed life, but Lupin always declined - his schedule was booked or he had a pressing appointment somewhere else. No, Dumbledore could not handle this personally. But perhaps...
Yes, yes, that was it! He could send someone trustworthy in his place. But who?
McGonagall? The deputy headmistress certainly was reliable, but Dumbledore though she was a tad too strict, especially for this fragile case. Besides, Lupin would be horribly embarrassed to have one of his former teachers - his former head of house, too - witness him in this awful state. Still, some degree of strictness was necessary.
Sirius? No, definitely not, on many levels. He was rash and childlike, not thinking things all the way though. He would be drunk as a monk with Lupin within a day. Besides, he was on the run from the law. Someone Sirius' age would be perfect, however - someone Lupin could connect with, someone who he could bond, talk to, share secrets with, and feel comfortable around.
And then he settled on the prefect solution, one so easy and obvious he marveled why he didn't think of it sooner.
Snape.
Perfectly logical - the same age, old school friends (or enemies? he couldn't recall, but no matter!), and with so many troubles in each of their pasts, he knew they would bond instantly.
Dumbledore retired to bed with that happy thought on his mind. First thing in the morning he would owl Snape, inviting him to his office to discuss this important matter and hopefully getting Snape to Lupin's Lair by the end of the week.
And Lupin, laying in a drunken stupor on the couch while Sumer did his hair, had no idea that a series of events was about to be put in place that would change his life forever.
A/N: I have no idea where this came from.
--------
Professor Lupin lay sprawled out on the couch. His already patched and frayed robes were rumpled as if he had been wearing then for a week (and indeed he had) and a strong smell of Old Ogden's Firewhisky lingered faintly in his small living room. He was bored. Dead bored. Bored horribly and completely out of his mind.
Empty bottles littered the floor of that cramped room. Some of them were legitimate - Snape still brewed the anti-werewolf potion for him and sent over a beaker of it every full moon through Floo Express. But some of the glass containers - it must be admitted - were dodgy. Firewhisky, Ultra Butterbeer and Lupin's own brew, "Jazzy Ale" had once been inside them.
He was bored and had taken to drinking for one principle reason - he could not find work. No one would ever hire a known werewolf - with the exception of Albus Dumbledore, of course - but he could no longer work at Hogwarts after what happened at the end of last year.
Since no one would hire him, he attempted to be self employed - that's where "Jazzy Ale" came in. However, despite its snappy name, it tasted awful, for Lupin was abysmal at potions.
But Lupin had to find something to do soon. He had to face the truth once and for all: he was becoming - what shall we say - rotund, to be blunt. But he had no motivation to shed those unwanted "lbs".
Professor Dumbledore had a shrewd idea about what was happening to his former student. Lupin's letters to him were becoming longer and longer - and more suspicious, too. In the beginning of the summer, they had been hopeful and frank - Lupin outlined his many attempts and difficulties at getting a stable job, and inquired after Harry and Dumbledore's health. But as the months drew on, the letters started becoming more fantastic - a tall, thin, handsome, distinctly non-werewolf bitten man had apparently moved in next door to Lupin. His name was Sumer and he was "jiven" and well- loved by all those who met him, and he would spend hours and hours at Lupin's house playing "Beauty Parlor" and "Truth or Dare" well into the night. The most recent letters contained descriptions of beach parties with frantic games of "Yo-Ho Pirate" volleyball (but Lupin lived in the middle of the forest!) and huge concerts that 30,000 people attended - in Lupin's backyard nonetheless - where the only act was Lupin and Sumer singing soulful and classy duets (Dumbledore could only shake his head at that one).
The fact was - as the reader may have already guessed and Dumbledore knew deep in his heart - Sumer did not exist. He seemed to be everything Lupin wanted to be (especially a snappy dresser - two letters ago, Lupin described Sumer's appearance at a hip fashion show - all the clothes were designed by him and he was the only model), and Dumbledore had a strong suspicion that Sumer was just Remus spelled backwards.
'Poor Lupin,' he thought to himself.
Yes, indeed, Sumer was only a figment of Lupin's crazed imagination egged on by alcohol and boredom. In his mind he went on all kinds of trips and adventures with trusty Sumer by his side. In fact, for Lupin at least, Sumer had started coming out of Lupin's head and developing a physical shape - Lupin would have lengthy discussions with Sumer over every topic imaginable. If Lupin squinted his eyes just right, he could almost see his imaginary friend sitting at the other end of the sofa gesturing wildly while he gave a lengthy answer to Lupin's questions, all audible in Lupin's head.
Poor, poor Lupin, indeed.
Dumbledore desperately wanted to shake him out of his deluded day dreams - but he did not know how. He could not come to visit Lupin at the moment - he had pressing business he had to attend to concerning Aberforth and an escaped shipment of goats from the mountains of Nepal. He had tried in the past to invite Lupin - and Sumer of course, who never truly left his side - to visit him at Hogwarts, stay at Hogsmeade, and take a break from his action packed life, but Lupin always declined - his schedule was booked or he had a pressing appointment somewhere else. No, Dumbledore could not handle this personally. But perhaps...
Yes, yes, that was it! He could send someone trustworthy in his place. But who?
McGonagall? The deputy headmistress certainly was reliable, but Dumbledore though she was a tad too strict, especially for this fragile case. Besides, Lupin would be horribly embarrassed to have one of his former teachers - his former head of house, too - witness him in this awful state. Still, some degree of strictness was necessary.
Sirius? No, definitely not, on many levels. He was rash and childlike, not thinking things all the way though. He would be drunk as a monk with Lupin within a day. Besides, he was on the run from the law. Someone Sirius' age would be perfect, however - someone Lupin could connect with, someone who he could bond, talk to, share secrets with, and feel comfortable around.
And then he settled on the prefect solution, one so easy and obvious he marveled why he didn't think of it sooner.
Snape.
Perfectly logical - the same age, old school friends (or enemies? he couldn't recall, but no matter!), and with so many troubles in each of their pasts, he knew they would bond instantly.
Dumbledore retired to bed with that happy thought on his mind. First thing in the morning he would owl Snape, inviting him to his office to discuss this important matter and hopefully getting Snape to Lupin's Lair by the end of the week.
And Lupin, laying in a drunken stupor on the couch while Sumer did his hair, had no idea that a series of events was about to be put in place that would change his life forever.