The Tale Of The Faithful Pen

Ever since he could remember, Remus Lupin had been writing with a pen. Not a quill, since they were, in his opinion, unhandy, even more so because he was left handed. No, Remus Lupin preferred his old-fashioned pen, which he had to dip into a small inkpot at his left, as to be able to write corrective, spirited and helpful comments on the students' homework.

But new things, in time, grow old, as did this pen of his. After twenty years of faithful service, it decided it was time for retirement. In other words: it began to splatter, blotch and spill.

Lupin noticed this when he had just started correcting some seventh year Hufflepuff's work.

'Oh, bugger,' he said, looking at the tip of the pen, which appeared to have split a little more then it ought to have. But, as he had no way of replacing the pen, he decided to try and write on.

'What you write here - BLOTCH! - may be very true - BLOTCH! - but I see no evidence in your - SPLATTER! - arguments and texts.'

'Oh, bugger,' Lupin said again, apparently not so eloquent when it comes to cursing. He took a bit of spare parchment and tried to make the blotches and splatters dry up a little faster, but to no avail. He only smeared them out, making his writing illegible. He repressed the urge to say 'Oh, bugger,' once more.

He put the pen aside and rummaged through the drawers of his desk, in search of some replacement. He found two ballpoints and a pencil. He tried one of the pens, but threw it away, as it was empty. The second ballpoint appeared to work.

'Seeing,' he began to write, 'that you first say here that vampires can't stand garlic, I think it's somewhat strange to then try to argue that Vlad Dracul's favourite dish contained a lot of .' He never got to write what Vlad Dracul's favourite dish contained, as the pen's ink faded, until nothing came out anymore. He scratched it a few times on a piece of spare parchment, but it wouldn't help.

So he took up the pencil, which had a neat, sharp point. This cheered him up a little, and he sat again to work, in the back of his mind realising he had no sharpener.

He scribbled on merrily, until he reached the last essay.

'In the context of the age, I think it's quite impossible for this wizard to have a - ' CRACK!

'Ooooh,' Lupin moaned, looking at where the point of the pencil should have been. 'Bugger!'