Chapter 3: Good Fences Make Good Neighbors

Professor Remus Lupin rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly, yawning and scratching his ear. He picked up his discarded robe from the corner, dusting it off before hanging it away and looking at the rest of his robes. Hm. Black with black stitches, black with grey stitches, or black with blue stitches. Quite the difficult decision, isn't it? The August sun had finally begun to trickle into the room, revealing the place where a weary wolf once passed the night. He pulled on a pair of trousers, thinking wonder if Professor Gable's had lunch yet? It should be about time. He slipped into a fresh robe as he opened the door.

A half-hour had passed since Talia returned from breakfast. Bruised but calmer, she riffled about her office, finishing her unpacking. The bubble took a wary peek from another calla-shaped perch, then darted into the lily's cup as a few books flew past. The brilliant rays of late morning light filtered into the room, triggering thoughts of... Mmm... Chicken Alfredo... and crusty bread with balsamic vinegar and olive oil... and – uh, whatever kinda white wine that goes good with that sorta thing. She paused. I wonder what time that is. She referred once more to the daily schedule Professor McGonagall had sent her.

Lunch – 12 p.m.

She checked her wand – 12:05. "GRAAAH!" She ran for the door, forgetting the myriad results of her unpacking still flying around her office.

Remus Lupin hardly expected Professor Gable's door to fly open before his upraised hand. He certainly didn't expect Professor Gable's beaded shawl to fly at him... or her embroidered fans... or her windowsill herb garden...

"Finite Incantatem! – Oh crap – Professor – uh, Remus – are you alright?" She caught her cilantro before they could fall at his feet. "Oy! I wasn't expecting to pull some mudslinging this soon - " she broke off, snickering at her fellow teacher's bewildered face peeking cautiously from behind her chives.

"Is it safe to come out yet?" he cringed, shielding himself with the edge of the shawl that had draped quite neatly around his head.

"Yeah, unless you count some pissed-off porcelain," she glanced apologetically at several very angry figurines. "Meteloci." The statuettes neatly arranged themselves on a shelf by the door (a sheathed sword rapped itself sharply on her forehead along the way), the herbs floated back to their sunny spot, and the shawl disengaged itself from the professor in favor of the back of her chair. The bubble, meanwhile, emitted a popply snicker.

"What was that?"

"A mass mobilizing spell – part of my unpacking process. Sorry to make you a casualty."

He waved it off. "I've had far worse. Are you ready for lunch?" A grumble just behind her bellybutton chose the perfect moment to make itself known. "I presume that's a yes." He gestured for her to move ahead.

"Thank you very much." She moved to meet his pace, then stopped just short of the door – "I forgot my aloe-" she stuck her wand back into the room and lowered a final pot back to the windowsill. The bubble scrambled out of the way, irritated at being ignored.

"Headmaster Dumbledore mentioned you had a pet."

"Oh yeah – Cale!" Talia smiled affectionately. "A sweetheart and damn useful little guy. Um." Her grin faded. "I forgot him upstairs, didn't I?"

A cold dripple on her nape told her otherwise. Yes you did.

"And it should've stayed that way. Would you stop doing that, you stupid fish!"

'I'm stupid?' Cale responded with a jet of water aimed neatly at her forehead, to which Talia returned a slap upside the bubble.

Professor Lupin snickered as his two companions squirted and walloped on their way into the Great Hall.

Curried chicken and vegetables over rice made a pleasant lunch that day. "How did you come by him? If you don't mind my asking," he added when her eyes flickered suddenly towards him.

Talia shook her head and hoped her smile didn't falter. "My sister was working with mermen in Singapore when she got this nutjob fish." She held up a goblet of water, watching as the bubble sipped up its contents delicately. "To look at him, he's probably related to betta, but that's as far as the link goes."

'Excuse me? The tail. The gills. The kick-ass fighting technique handed down from father to egg. How am I not related?'

'Hmm. Does the fact that you can talk count?'

"Er-hem."

She turned back to Remus at that, finding him discreetly rubbing behind an ear. "Sorry. I forget we tend to get that sharp when speaking to each other." He nodded around a bite of carrot.

"So what about you?" Should be a safe topic, right? "Any pets?"

"I had a – dog... once." The briefest of lumps bobbed in Remus' throat as he spoke. "Lost him pretty recently."

"I'm sorry." Damn, girl – you really can pick 'em, can't ya, Talia's mind scolded wryly. "How long had you had him?"

"Since I studied here."

"They let you keep a dog?"

"He was big enough and fierce enough to handle a dragon, much less me, and he was one of my closest friends. They all kept me – in... ahem – line." He reined himself in carefully as he realized his blunder.

"I should have figured." At Remus' puzzled look, she clarified. "Wolves do best in packs. You must have been quite a dog lover before the bite. Gah!" Talia's dinner companion choked on the drink he was currently taking, baffling and worrying her into hasty, awkward motion.

"It's – cough – alright, real– hack – really." His face was completely flushed as he tried desperately to catch his breath... but the look in his eyes suggested another cause for his redness.

Her fading worry was strong enough to hold back a laugh. "...You do know I only meant that you owned a lot of dogs?"

He smiled faintly as he scrubbed the remnants of lunch from his lips, relieved that she hadn't entirely caught on to his train of thought. "Care for a guided tour? I'm sorry I didn't get to it earlier."

Fish and human turned to face each other, and snickered. 'Another one?'

'Hey, so long as the guide isn't Peeves or Snake-boy, it's peachy.' Talia stood, stepping aside as her companion pushed her chair in for her. "Sounds fine to me," she smiled gleefully.

A cold whistle of air rushed past the two professors as they neared the hospital wing. They looked up to find Peeves trying in vain to ram his head into several walls, mouth open in a grotesque scream as each one reminded him of his incorporeity.

"What's wrong with him? He's been unusually quiet since breakfast."

Remus Lupin thought he caught a hint of an odd smile over her shrug. "I wouldn't know."

billiejoe – Yes, I'm quite aware that Professor Snape's not the only pureblood teacher. Talia has a problem specifically with purebloods who make a big deal of it to the extent that some Dark Wizards (and their fans, hence her comment in Chapter 1) are famed for doing. By the time this chapter is up, I'll have rephrased the wording of her anti-pureblood sentiment, but keep her pet peeve in mind.

Add a disclaimer and bake at 350 F for twenty minutes, or until the top is golden brown and crispy.