To all of those who, for whatever reason, are still reading this poor beast, my apologies for the long delays between updates. *sweatdrops*

*****

"Rise and shine, Brat," Frank chirped out with false cheer as he reached over and gently nudged Remus's shoulder. Sometimes, he wasn't even sure why he bothered. It was his free period right now, and he was eons behind in grading. Last night's little debacle had taken a huge dent out of his time, and he had a whole stack of third year essays to grade.

Remus mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'fuck you' and rolled away from him. Reaching over, Frank easily pulled him back and reached for the pepper up potion Pomfrey had left for the little monster. "Still mad at me, huh?"

"Yes," Remus muttered back sullenly.

"Want to tell me why?"

"No."

Well, glad they'd cleared that up, Frank sighed. There had been a couple of professors that had sat him down before he'd taken this job and explained to him what some of the pitfalls were, some of the things that he'd have to look out for. The way he had it figured, most of them probably expected a repeat of his seventh year, which wasn't exactly all that long ago.

But there was a load of difference between being a seventh year and teaching the seventh years—or the rest of the school for that matter. Maybe he shouldn't have ever become quite so chummy with Remus. Maybe he should have maintained a more professional distance from the rug rat.

But it was a bit too late for 'should have's. Sighing once more, Frank shoved the pepper up potion in Remus's direction. Reluctantly, Remus took it, making a face before chugging the whole thing down. "I don't want you to be mad at me," he decided to come right out and say as he rested his elbows on the edge of the bed. Remus shot him a withering glare.

"Right, because you care if I'm mad."

"Why wouldn't I?" Frank had to dodge as the little pit viper threw the cup the potion had been in at his head. The kid had one hell of a temper when he had his dander up, Frank would give him that.

"Why don't you just cut the nicety-nice crap. You're not going to be here next year, and I don't feel like being your pet project or experiment or, or," the kid's face was turning red, "another chance for you to study for your stupid auror exam. You want to leave? Then leave. I don't care."

Oh.

"Hey kid," Frank started off softly, only to break off at the venomous look Remus shot him. He could be pretty thick sometimes, Frank acknowledged as all the little pieces of their arguments these last couple weeks suddenly fell into place. "They only hired me on for the year."

"Oh please, do I look stupid?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Frank tried to smirk, but the humor was not reflected back in Remus's expression. "I'm only stepping in for the tenured, hired-by-the-governor's-board Defense teacher. She's on maternity leave at the moment."

"So?" Remus lay back down on the pillows, and Frank could see that the conversation was beginning to sap the poor kid out. There were dark rings around the kid's eyes, and despite the fact that the brat was absolutely insufferable half the time, Frank felt for him at that particular moment.

"So, even if I wanted to, I couldn't stay on to teach you next year. It's her job. I'm just holding her place, as it were." Remus seemed less than convinced.

"Yeah, well, whatever," the brat muttered, rolling over once more.

"You remember what it was like your first day here?" From the way Remus shuddered, Frank guessed that, yes, the kid most certainly did.

"So what," the kid bit back, flatly as Frank calmly pulled the covers up over the brat's shoulders.

"So, I think you and I were kind of in the same boat. You didn't know anyone, I didn't know anyone."

"You are so full of shit. I'm not five, you know."

"Can it, fleabag," Frank snapped back easily. "What I'm trying to say is that we were both out of sorts, and there were a lot of people against us before they'd even attempted to get to know us."

"Right, I'm sure," Remus scoffed, eyelids drooping. "You're the coolest professor here."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, brat, but not everyone sees things the way you see them." Frank managed a chuckle as Remus muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'no kidding' under his breath. "I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not exactly that much older than the seventh years."

"You're not ancient. So what?"

"So, a lot of the other professors thought I was too young for this, and that there would be no way I'd be able to handle the responsibility. Some, even, have been watching and waiting for me to screw up all year."

"Vanacker," Remus yawned, rolling over towards him, and Frank found himself smiling back at the sleepy kid.

"Yeah, him and a few others. I know you first years like me, but the older kids had Molly last year, and she was a pretty popular professor. Hers is a tough act to follow."

"I hate her," Remus mumbled, curling into the blankets.

"You don't even know her," Frank had to point out, with a chuckle.

"So? People don't know me either, and they hate me." Well, there wasn't much room for Frank to argue the point there, and he knew it. As unfair as it was, that was pretty much the truth.

"Maybe, but you were the first true friend I had here."

"I'm eleven. Not stupid."

"I never said you were," Frank rolled his eyes. "I want you to promise me something, brat."

"What?"

"Promise first, and then I'll tell you."

"No, that's dumb. Tell me first, and then I'll think about it." This kid was a trip, Frank grinned. How it was that so few of the other professors could see it, Frank wasn't sure. On some level, he liked all the kids he taught. But Remus? Well, Remus was special in a lot of ways, the least of which seemed to be the aspect that all the other faculty couldn't get around.

"Nope, it's all or nothing."

"Jerk," Remus grumbled, fighting really hard, Frank could see, to stay awake. "Fine. Promise."

"Good. I want you to write me. At least once a month." Remus rolled his eyes, but there was the tiny beginnings of smile tugging at the monster's lips.

"I'm still mad at you." The words were mostly bluster.

"Hey, no sweat off my back," Frank chuckled as he reached over and ruffled Remus's disheveled hair. "You're one of a kind, kid."

"Joy."

And with that, Frank left the kid to sleep off the rest of the day in peace.

*****

"Professor Longbottom?" James asked quietly, startling the man into dropping the cup of tea and the stack of papers in his hands.

"James?!" In any other circumstance, the look on the young professor's face might have reduced James to tears of mirth, but there wasn't much to laugh at to James's way of thinking. "Where have you been? The whole staff has been beside themselves all day looking for you, and your friends are frantic."

Maybe part of him really was the spoiled little brat Sirius had called him in a fit of pique once. Because he didn't care that he'd put them out, or that they'd spent so much time worrying. He certainly hadn't asked them to. If they wanted to continue to pretend that he was too young to understand the things that went on around him that was their business. But he was under no obligation to cater to their naïve perceptions of him.

"Can I ask you something?" he managed.

"Yes, but let me fire call Dumbledore first, at least," the man said, opening the door from his office that led into a rather Spartan looking sitting room. "Where were you? Why?" Longbottom looked perplexed, and at the expression, James felt his own mood souring. What were adults the only ones who were allowed to get angry and upset and need some time to themselves?

"I wasn't feeling well, but I didn't want to stay in the infirmary." Well, at least that wasn't a lie, he congratulated himself. It wasn't the whole truth, either though, which was probably just as well because even he wasn't ready to grapple with the whole truth yet.

He quietly accepted a biscuit from Longbottom and tried to suppress his anger and irritation as Longbottom hastened to reassure the Headmaster that James was okay and accounted for.

James hated the attention. He hated the constant reminder. He hated that no one was ever brave enough to actually say anything, but that they couldn't seem to do anything more than treat him as if he were fragile as glass.

Did they really think him that weak? How? How the hell could they think that? Maybe he wasn't Hercules, but he wasn't exactly drooling in St. Mungos either.

"So, Brat, what's picking your brain?"

James blinked as Longbottom smiled at him indulgently. His disgust at the treatment must have shown in his face too, because it elicited a chuckle out of the easygoing professor. He could see where Lupin might have been drawn in because it was pretty hard to actively dislike the man. But then again, just like any other adult, the man dealt out half-truths and kept all students at an arms length out of professionalism. Which, fine, James could more than handle that when he expected no more from his teachers than that, but at the same time, it was rotten of the man to give out such false hope.

"I want to know more about werewolves," he stated baldly, obviously shocking Longbottom in the process.

"I don't know," the man started off uncertainly, but James was having none of that.

"If you don't tell me, I'll just find out on my own." So maybe he was being a bit mulish about the whole thing, but he was long past caring. And he was done with pretending that his life had nothing to do with werewolves or that it wasn't affected by them. If anything, he'd earned the right to know more about them since it seemed he was going to be plagued with them for the rest of his life. "Look, I don't really care if you tell me or not," he added for good measure as Longbottom seemed to waver. "You seem to know stuff about them, so I thought I'd try you first, but if you don't want to tell me, well whatever, you know? There are other ways to find out what I want to know, and even if you stop me this year, it's not like you'll be here next year." Not to mention that when the ratio of students to teachers was about a hundred and fifty to one, the odds of any of them stopping him when he set his mind to something was reaching astronomically slim proportions.

"You kids just aren't keen on giving up, are you?" Longbottom asked rhetorically before blowing out a long and tired sigh. "I was only hired on for the year." James snorted in disbelief, which earned him an annoyed look from his professor. "You kids both try my patience and amuse me, and you often manage it in the same breath. I'm only filling in this year because the current Defense teacher took maternity leave. Her position here is secured. It's not personal."

"It never is," James muttered, just under his breath as he let out a resigned sigh.

"Why the sudden interest in werewolves?" Nonchalant, the man most certainly was not. Raising an eyebrow, James gave him a look. "Okay, dumb question," Longbottom readily acknowledged. "Better question: What exactly do you want to know about werewolves?"

James mulled the question over for a moment before hesitantly asking, "What are they like?"

Longbottom must have been expecting a more specific—or at the very least, more graphic—question, because the man seemed thrown by the simplicity of it. "What are they like?" he repeated, dumbly. "They're like us. One day out of the month, they lose control over their minds and bodies, but for the rest of the month, they are no different than you or I."

It was just the answer that James hadn't wanted to hear.

*****

TBC…