DISCLAIMER: I don't own any HP characters or related items.
For the Want of the Moon, the Marauders are Lost...
Chapter One:
There, at the teachers' table, beside Professor Snape, sat a witch, hardly any older than Snape himself. She was a strange one. Her extremely curly brown hair was tied back in a messy bun, quite unlike Professor McGonagall's neat and tightly pinned version. Her eyes, half hidden by silver glasses, were a dark color and focused on the task her small, slender hands were flying over: knitting. She didn't look up when Professor Albus Dumbledore stood to address the students after the Sorting was completed. She continued her knitting, occasionally shooting a nasty glare at Snape after he would mutter something unheard by the rest of the occupants of the Great Hall.
"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" the Headmaster boomed in the quickly quieting room. "I would first like to introduce to you, your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor—Merlin knows how we go through them lately—Professor Torri Love!"
The witch beside Snape—Professor Love, apparently—made no move to stand as was custom. She only released her left hand from her knitting long enough to wave.
Chuckling, Dumbledore resumed his address, "She is often times either too busy or too exhausted to stand due to her other line of work that she will undoubtedly explain to you. It's quite a thrilling subject..."
Dumbledore continued to explain the usual rules and regulations to the students as Snape turned to Torri and quietly said, "So, Love, how're your scars healing?"
"I don't know why I even bother trying to be pleasant with you, Snivellus," she snapped, irritated. "You never return the favor. Kindly leave me be."
"Whatever happened to dear Lupin? Is he still howling at the moon?"
Torri stopped her knitting and glared at Snape. "He is where he is supposed to be. And even you know he cannot be cured, so, yes, he probably would be howling at the moon were it a full moon tonight. Which it isn't."
The next day, the sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins continuing with Defense Against the Dark Arts waited for their new professor to arrive. Draco Malfoy took the time to mock her: "She doesn't even use magic to knit! Her fingers kept getting caught in the yarn while her fork tried to put out her eye! It wouldn't surprise me if she wore Muggle clothes instead of robes and cloaks!" He laughed long and hard at the picture the thought produced.
Suddenly, a sharp snap of the fingers was heard. The shutters closed and the candles went out. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, for judging my character before you even meet me," a voice rang through the large, dark room. "How very typical. You are my cousin's son, aren't you?" A single candle lit, illuminating Professor Love where she stood at the top of the staircase leading to her office. "Of course you are. How could I think otherwise?" There was a brief silence in which her class stared at her and she sized them up. Then, in a brisk voice, she said, "Who here can tell me the difference between a Wiccan and a Death Eater?"
No one answered or raised their hand. Not even Hermione. They were either intimidated by Professor Love or mesmerized by her. Her curled hair was pinned away from her face in the manner of the 1880s, and her glasses reflected the candlelight eerily. She wore all black. Her shirt was a shallow scoop neck with fitted sleeves to her elbows, from there, they flared out for three and a half inches. Her skirt was full and reached the tops of her feet. The boots she wore were high-heeled and had toes that curled upwards. While she didn't look like the typical Hogwarts Professor, she definitely had the personality of one from what her students had already gathered.
Professor Love gave the class a stern look and said, "No one? How unusual. According to the letter Professor Lupin sent me a few days ago, Miss Granger, you should have already answered my question by now."
Hermione cleared her throat and, brushing her hair from her eyes, said, "The Wiccans are Muggles who perform Dark Magic with the aid of You-Know- Who, giving him the power to control them. They believe it to be a religion and are unaware of his hold on them. The Death Eaters are witches and Wizards who knowingly follow You-Know-Who. Or those placed under the Imperious Curse."
Professor Love smiled. "Absolutely correct, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor... Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts! My name is Professor Torri Love and I allow no foolishness in my classroom. Therefore, Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle, please bring forward the sweets you have in your pockets and place them on my desk. You may retrieve them when class is dismissed." Crabbe and Goyle made no move, but stared at her. In a flash, she was in front of their table, glaring at them. "I ask only once. Give me the sweets. Now!"
Still staring at Professor Love, Crabbe and Goyle emptied their pockets into her outstretched hands. Returning to her desk, she said, "You cannot hide sugar from me. I can smell it over a mile away. Mr. Finnegan, you sugar quill, if you please." She placed the collected candy on a pile on her desk. Seamus trudged forward and added his sugar quill. "And if any of you try to lie to me, the consequences will be most dire."
Harry Potter raised his hand. "Professor, what is it that you do as your other line of work? The Headmaster said you would tell us about it. Are you an Auror?"
Professor Love sighed and said, "I had hoped I wouldn't have to speak of it. It may make your parents a bit nervous about my teaching you..."
"But look at what we've had in the past!" Ron Weasley blurted out. "Someone with You-Know-Who sticking out of the back of his head, a lying dandy, a Werewolf, someone pretending to be an Auror, and a really horrid toad-like witch! Surely you can't be much worse."
"Unless you're a Vampire," Malfoy said coldly. "And from what my Father has said—"
"Your father has never liked me, Draco," Professor Love interrupted. "And Mr. Weasley, I think it entirely rude the way you spoke f your past professors." Ron turned scarlet. "Professor Quirrell was killed by Voldemort, Professor Lockhart can't remember who he is—thanks to your broken wand, if memory serves, Mr. Weasley—Professor Lupin is a very dear friend of mine and was bitten when he was five or six, nothing he can do about it, Mr. Crouch lost his soul after posing as Mad-Eye and Professor Umbridge..."
"Yes? What of her?" Hermione prompted.
Professor Love looked irritated. "Well, I'd rather not think of her at all, really."
"Why?"
An angry glint appeared in the professor's eye. "It's because of her that I can't work for the Ministry of Magic anymore. She seemed to think that since my best friend was a Werewolf, I would betray all of Britain or something ridiculous like that," she took a deep breath that seemed to calm her. "You see, Werewolf Hunters aren't exactly trusted among the Ministries. They tend to think we would get infected on purpose just to bite everyone..."
Hermione looked skeptical. "That can't be the only reason."
"It is... Well, that, and my great-great-great-grandfather was a Vampire. But the only thing that is passed along to the Vampire's posterity is light sensitivity. That is why the shutters are closed and only the candles are lit. Bright light often times gives me a migraine," Professor Love explained, lighting more candles around the room with a wave of her wand. "Severus, I don't believe I sent for you. What is it?"
Professor Snape strode forwards and, throwing a nasty look at Harry, said, "The Headmaster wished I confirm that your lunar cloaks and calendars are properly set."
The two professors were looking at each other with absolute loathing in their eyes. "I take my tasks appointed very seriously. Even if I'm not paid to do so, I will continue to make sure they are working properly and any threatening Werewolves are taken care of... So, please leave my classroom, Snivellus," she added in a low voice, glaring daggers at the Potions Master.
A heavy silence filled the room as the two professors glared at each other. Then, sneering at Love, Snape swept out of the classroom. After the door shut with a slam, Love heaved a great sigh of relief. "He, apparently, has not changed..." she muttered her index fingers rubbing her temples. She heard a slight whimper in the front row of desks. "Mr. Longbottom, what in Merlin's beard is the matter?"
Neville Longbottom swallowed and quietly said, "I'm not that fond of Professor Snape, Professor."
"Well, that makes two of us," Love replied, smiling at the young wizard. She noticed a slight disruption going on in the opposite side of the classroom. "Mr. Malfoy! When did I ask you to mock your fellow classmates? I warn you, watch where you tread. I am not above writing to your father. Ten points from Slytherin." She returned her attention to Neville. "Professor Snape has always been quite nasty to everyone he dislikes. Trust me, he was my next-door neighbor until he graduated Hogwarts and moved out... Or was it ran away? I can't remember. You have nothing to fear from him in this classroom. I want him in here as little as possible."
Hermione raised her hand. "Professor, what exactly are we going to be studying this term?"
Love sat on her stool at the front of the classroom. "This term, we'll be discussing the differences between an enemy and a friend; between the innocent and guilty. We'll be having mock trials with my other classes of your year to give you an idea how one might find themselves in Azkaban or a free man. Then, we'll move onto defensive theory, continuing on through Christmas."
"We will be able to perform magic in this class, though, right?"
Professor Love looked quite puzzled. "Why wouldn't you? This class is designed to prepare you for whatever it is you might face out in the real world. You won't be students forever, I'm afraid. You won't be protected by Hogwarts' walls forever. You need to know how to defend yourselves if the need appears. Trust me, I'm not like Umbridge." She picked up her copy of the textbook and flipped through it. "Please read pages fifteen through twenty and answer these questions." She flicked her wand and five questions appeared on the slide screen that was descending behind her. "There will be no total need to talk, but if you have a question, raise your hand and I will assist you in any way I am able. Begin."
She slid off her stool and made her way to her desk. As the students read about the Wiccans, their beliefs and Voldemort's hold on them, Professor Love reread the letter Lupin sent her:
My Dearest Torri,
I regret that it has been so long in replying to your last letter. I have been undeniably busy as of late with my assignments for the Order. Would that you could join me, but Professor Dumbledore has yet to allow you to join us in our fight against Voldemort.
I write in response to your appointment as the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Congratulations. I trust you will enjoy the post as mush as I did. The sixth year classes you will be instructing should include Miss Hermione Granger, Mr. Neville Longbottom, Mr. Draco Malfoy, Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Ronald Weasley (who prefers to be called Ron). Please take into account that Miss Granger has the habit of memorizing the entirety of the textbook as soon as she purchases it and will know the answer to any question you ask immediately. I trust this will cause you no hardship. Mr. Longbottom is the only son of Frank and Alice Longbottom, who, you will remember, were tortured into insanity by your cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. He is reluctant to speak on the subject, therefore, I ask you to not bring it up in class. Mr. Malfoy is the son of your other cousins, Lucious and Narcissa Malfoy. He will behave accordingly to the ways in which he has been raised. Please o not let his arrogance throw you. He will act like his father and you should not let your quarrel with Lucious disrupt Draco's learning. Finally onto Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley. The one thing you should be aware of about Harry is that you knew his parents when they were at school and he will try to learn as much a he possibly can about them from you. Do try to be as tactful as you possibly can, Torri. Remember he has no memory of being with them and Dementors set off echoes of their last living night. Harry will occasionally bend and break the school rules, but only for the well-being of his fellow students. You should not judge him too harshly. He is James' son, after all. Now, Ron is Harry's best friend along with Hermione. The three are inseperable (does this remind you of another group of friends?) and do everything together. Ron's family, as you are well aware of, does not have much golf to their names and Draco will often try to provoke Ron with that information. Ron must be kept in check t all times, or Mrs. Weasley will have my pelt. Congratulations once again for taking Dolores' place in the staff. I daresay the students need another teacher who actually knows what she's teaching. I shall try to visit as soon as I can. If it happens to fall on the full moon, then I'll let you try to track and calm me down.
With love, from,
Remus P.S. one final note on Mr. Potter. He can create a corporeal Patronus in any case that he might need one or demonstrate how to perform the charm. I highly recommend that you teach your sixth and seventh years how to defend themselves from Dementors, using Harry or yourself as a demonstration.
Professor Love folded the letter and placed it carefully inside her pocket. "Mr. Potter, will you come here for a moment?"
Looking slightly confused, Harry silently walked over to her. "Yes, Professor?"
"Re—Professor Lupin wrote that you can create a corporeal Patronus. Is this true?"
"Yes."
"Will you show me after class is over, please?"
"Yes."
Love smiled. "Thank you. You may sit do—" She was interrupted by the end of class bell. "There's the bell. Class dismissed. Crabbe, Goyle, Seamus, get this candy off my desk and don't let me smell sugar in my classroom ever again!" The three students grabbed their candy as the others filed out.
Ron and Hermione lingered. "Harry, are you coming?" Ron asked.
"In a moment, Mr. Weasley. I've asked him to show me his Patronus," Love explained. "Now, then, Mr. Potter."
Harry raised his wand, and thinking of a happy memory, he said, "Expecto Patronum!" A silver stag erupted from the end of his wand and galloped around the classroom.
Professor Love smiled warmly at the sight of the stag. "Brilliant, Mr. Potter. Just brilliant. Has Professor Lupin every told you your father's animagus form?"
"Yes... You knew my father was an animagus?" Harry said, packing his bag.
Hermione gave Love a puzzled look. "How could you possibly know?"
"Hermione, Professor Lupin and Sirius Black were my best friends while at Hogwarts. I thought you knew that..."
For the Want of the Moon, the Marauders are Lost...
Chapter One:
There, at the teachers' table, beside Professor Snape, sat a witch, hardly any older than Snape himself. She was a strange one. Her extremely curly brown hair was tied back in a messy bun, quite unlike Professor McGonagall's neat and tightly pinned version. Her eyes, half hidden by silver glasses, were a dark color and focused on the task her small, slender hands were flying over: knitting. She didn't look up when Professor Albus Dumbledore stood to address the students after the Sorting was completed. She continued her knitting, occasionally shooting a nasty glare at Snape after he would mutter something unheard by the rest of the occupants of the Great Hall.
"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" the Headmaster boomed in the quickly quieting room. "I would first like to introduce to you, your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor—Merlin knows how we go through them lately—Professor Torri Love!"
The witch beside Snape—Professor Love, apparently—made no move to stand as was custom. She only released her left hand from her knitting long enough to wave.
Chuckling, Dumbledore resumed his address, "She is often times either too busy or too exhausted to stand due to her other line of work that she will undoubtedly explain to you. It's quite a thrilling subject..."
Dumbledore continued to explain the usual rules and regulations to the students as Snape turned to Torri and quietly said, "So, Love, how're your scars healing?"
"I don't know why I even bother trying to be pleasant with you, Snivellus," she snapped, irritated. "You never return the favor. Kindly leave me be."
"Whatever happened to dear Lupin? Is he still howling at the moon?"
Torri stopped her knitting and glared at Snape. "He is where he is supposed to be. And even you know he cannot be cured, so, yes, he probably would be howling at the moon were it a full moon tonight. Which it isn't."
The next day, the sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins continuing with Defense Against the Dark Arts waited for their new professor to arrive. Draco Malfoy took the time to mock her: "She doesn't even use magic to knit! Her fingers kept getting caught in the yarn while her fork tried to put out her eye! It wouldn't surprise me if she wore Muggle clothes instead of robes and cloaks!" He laughed long and hard at the picture the thought produced.
Suddenly, a sharp snap of the fingers was heard. The shutters closed and the candles went out. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, for judging my character before you even meet me," a voice rang through the large, dark room. "How very typical. You are my cousin's son, aren't you?" A single candle lit, illuminating Professor Love where she stood at the top of the staircase leading to her office. "Of course you are. How could I think otherwise?" There was a brief silence in which her class stared at her and she sized them up. Then, in a brisk voice, she said, "Who here can tell me the difference between a Wiccan and a Death Eater?"
No one answered or raised their hand. Not even Hermione. They were either intimidated by Professor Love or mesmerized by her. Her curled hair was pinned away from her face in the manner of the 1880s, and her glasses reflected the candlelight eerily. She wore all black. Her shirt was a shallow scoop neck with fitted sleeves to her elbows, from there, they flared out for three and a half inches. Her skirt was full and reached the tops of her feet. The boots she wore were high-heeled and had toes that curled upwards. While she didn't look like the typical Hogwarts Professor, she definitely had the personality of one from what her students had already gathered.
Professor Love gave the class a stern look and said, "No one? How unusual. According to the letter Professor Lupin sent me a few days ago, Miss Granger, you should have already answered my question by now."
Hermione cleared her throat and, brushing her hair from her eyes, said, "The Wiccans are Muggles who perform Dark Magic with the aid of You-Know- Who, giving him the power to control them. They believe it to be a religion and are unaware of his hold on them. The Death Eaters are witches and Wizards who knowingly follow You-Know-Who. Or those placed under the Imperious Curse."
Professor Love smiled. "Absolutely correct, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor... Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts! My name is Professor Torri Love and I allow no foolishness in my classroom. Therefore, Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle, please bring forward the sweets you have in your pockets and place them on my desk. You may retrieve them when class is dismissed." Crabbe and Goyle made no move, but stared at her. In a flash, she was in front of their table, glaring at them. "I ask only once. Give me the sweets. Now!"
Still staring at Professor Love, Crabbe and Goyle emptied their pockets into her outstretched hands. Returning to her desk, she said, "You cannot hide sugar from me. I can smell it over a mile away. Mr. Finnegan, you sugar quill, if you please." She placed the collected candy on a pile on her desk. Seamus trudged forward and added his sugar quill. "And if any of you try to lie to me, the consequences will be most dire."
Harry Potter raised his hand. "Professor, what is it that you do as your other line of work? The Headmaster said you would tell us about it. Are you an Auror?"
Professor Love sighed and said, "I had hoped I wouldn't have to speak of it. It may make your parents a bit nervous about my teaching you..."
"But look at what we've had in the past!" Ron Weasley blurted out. "Someone with You-Know-Who sticking out of the back of his head, a lying dandy, a Werewolf, someone pretending to be an Auror, and a really horrid toad-like witch! Surely you can't be much worse."
"Unless you're a Vampire," Malfoy said coldly. "And from what my Father has said—"
"Your father has never liked me, Draco," Professor Love interrupted. "And Mr. Weasley, I think it entirely rude the way you spoke f your past professors." Ron turned scarlet. "Professor Quirrell was killed by Voldemort, Professor Lockhart can't remember who he is—thanks to your broken wand, if memory serves, Mr. Weasley—Professor Lupin is a very dear friend of mine and was bitten when he was five or six, nothing he can do about it, Mr. Crouch lost his soul after posing as Mad-Eye and Professor Umbridge..."
"Yes? What of her?" Hermione prompted.
Professor Love looked irritated. "Well, I'd rather not think of her at all, really."
"Why?"
An angry glint appeared in the professor's eye. "It's because of her that I can't work for the Ministry of Magic anymore. She seemed to think that since my best friend was a Werewolf, I would betray all of Britain or something ridiculous like that," she took a deep breath that seemed to calm her. "You see, Werewolf Hunters aren't exactly trusted among the Ministries. They tend to think we would get infected on purpose just to bite everyone..."
Hermione looked skeptical. "That can't be the only reason."
"It is... Well, that, and my great-great-great-grandfather was a Vampire. But the only thing that is passed along to the Vampire's posterity is light sensitivity. That is why the shutters are closed and only the candles are lit. Bright light often times gives me a migraine," Professor Love explained, lighting more candles around the room with a wave of her wand. "Severus, I don't believe I sent for you. What is it?"
Professor Snape strode forwards and, throwing a nasty look at Harry, said, "The Headmaster wished I confirm that your lunar cloaks and calendars are properly set."
The two professors were looking at each other with absolute loathing in their eyes. "I take my tasks appointed very seriously. Even if I'm not paid to do so, I will continue to make sure they are working properly and any threatening Werewolves are taken care of... So, please leave my classroom, Snivellus," she added in a low voice, glaring daggers at the Potions Master.
A heavy silence filled the room as the two professors glared at each other. Then, sneering at Love, Snape swept out of the classroom. After the door shut with a slam, Love heaved a great sigh of relief. "He, apparently, has not changed..." she muttered her index fingers rubbing her temples. She heard a slight whimper in the front row of desks. "Mr. Longbottom, what in Merlin's beard is the matter?"
Neville Longbottom swallowed and quietly said, "I'm not that fond of Professor Snape, Professor."
"Well, that makes two of us," Love replied, smiling at the young wizard. She noticed a slight disruption going on in the opposite side of the classroom. "Mr. Malfoy! When did I ask you to mock your fellow classmates? I warn you, watch where you tread. I am not above writing to your father. Ten points from Slytherin." She returned her attention to Neville. "Professor Snape has always been quite nasty to everyone he dislikes. Trust me, he was my next-door neighbor until he graduated Hogwarts and moved out... Or was it ran away? I can't remember. You have nothing to fear from him in this classroom. I want him in here as little as possible."
Hermione raised her hand. "Professor, what exactly are we going to be studying this term?"
Love sat on her stool at the front of the classroom. "This term, we'll be discussing the differences between an enemy and a friend; between the innocent and guilty. We'll be having mock trials with my other classes of your year to give you an idea how one might find themselves in Azkaban or a free man. Then, we'll move onto defensive theory, continuing on through Christmas."
"We will be able to perform magic in this class, though, right?"
Professor Love looked quite puzzled. "Why wouldn't you? This class is designed to prepare you for whatever it is you might face out in the real world. You won't be students forever, I'm afraid. You won't be protected by Hogwarts' walls forever. You need to know how to defend yourselves if the need appears. Trust me, I'm not like Umbridge." She picked up her copy of the textbook and flipped through it. "Please read pages fifteen through twenty and answer these questions." She flicked her wand and five questions appeared on the slide screen that was descending behind her. "There will be no total need to talk, but if you have a question, raise your hand and I will assist you in any way I am able. Begin."
She slid off her stool and made her way to her desk. As the students read about the Wiccans, their beliefs and Voldemort's hold on them, Professor Love reread the letter Lupin sent her:
My Dearest Torri,
I regret that it has been so long in replying to your last letter. I have been undeniably busy as of late with my assignments for the Order. Would that you could join me, but Professor Dumbledore has yet to allow you to join us in our fight against Voldemort.
I write in response to your appointment as the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Congratulations. I trust you will enjoy the post as mush as I did. The sixth year classes you will be instructing should include Miss Hermione Granger, Mr. Neville Longbottom, Mr. Draco Malfoy, Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Ronald Weasley (who prefers to be called Ron). Please take into account that Miss Granger has the habit of memorizing the entirety of the textbook as soon as she purchases it and will know the answer to any question you ask immediately. I trust this will cause you no hardship. Mr. Longbottom is the only son of Frank and Alice Longbottom, who, you will remember, were tortured into insanity by your cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. He is reluctant to speak on the subject, therefore, I ask you to not bring it up in class. Mr. Malfoy is the son of your other cousins, Lucious and Narcissa Malfoy. He will behave accordingly to the ways in which he has been raised. Please o not let his arrogance throw you. He will act like his father and you should not let your quarrel with Lucious disrupt Draco's learning. Finally onto Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley. The one thing you should be aware of about Harry is that you knew his parents when they were at school and he will try to learn as much a he possibly can about them from you. Do try to be as tactful as you possibly can, Torri. Remember he has no memory of being with them and Dementors set off echoes of their last living night. Harry will occasionally bend and break the school rules, but only for the well-being of his fellow students. You should not judge him too harshly. He is James' son, after all. Now, Ron is Harry's best friend along with Hermione. The three are inseperable (does this remind you of another group of friends?) and do everything together. Ron's family, as you are well aware of, does not have much golf to their names and Draco will often try to provoke Ron with that information. Ron must be kept in check t all times, or Mrs. Weasley will have my pelt. Congratulations once again for taking Dolores' place in the staff. I daresay the students need another teacher who actually knows what she's teaching. I shall try to visit as soon as I can. If it happens to fall on the full moon, then I'll let you try to track and calm me down.
With love, from,
Remus P.S. one final note on Mr. Potter. He can create a corporeal Patronus in any case that he might need one or demonstrate how to perform the charm. I highly recommend that you teach your sixth and seventh years how to defend themselves from Dementors, using Harry or yourself as a demonstration.
Professor Love folded the letter and placed it carefully inside her pocket. "Mr. Potter, will you come here for a moment?"
Looking slightly confused, Harry silently walked over to her. "Yes, Professor?"
"Re—Professor Lupin wrote that you can create a corporeal Patronus. Is this true?"
"Yes."
"Will you show me after class is over, please?"
"Yes."
Love smiled. "Thank you. You may sit do—" She was interrupted by the end of class bell. "There's the bell. Class dismissed. Crabbe, Goyle, Seamus, get this candy off my desk and don't let me smell sugar in my classroom ever again!" The three students grabbed their candy as the others filed out.
Ron and Hermione lingered. "Harry, are you coming?" Ron asked.
"In a moment, Mr. Weasley. I've asked him to show me his Patronus," Love explained. "Now, then, Mr. Potter."
Harry raised his wand, and thinking of a happy memory, he said, "Expecto Patronum!" A silver stag erupted from the end of his wand and galloped around the classroom.
Professor Love smiled warmly at the sight of the stag. "Brilliant, Mr. Potter. Just brilliant. Has Professor Lupin every told you your father's animagus form?"
"Yes... You knew my father was an animagus?" Harry said, packing his bag.
Hermione gave Love a puzzled look. "How could you possibly know?"
"Hermione, Professor Lupin and Sirius Black were my best friends while at Hogwarts. I thought you knew that..."