Chapter Eight

A few mornings later, after Remus had finished his search for the perfect poem to express his feelings, he told the other Marauders about the plan he and Peter had come up with. James and Sirius looked impressed, if a little upset that he hadn't like their ideas. But somehow, staging a kidnapping, in which he was required to rescue Michelle from a bunch of 'hardened criminals' (James and Sirius dressed as thugs) hadn't seemed like the best idea to Remus.

That's why Remus was now waiting anxiously at the breakfast table for the mail to come. He'd gotten up early to send his owl, and was incredibly nervous about Michelle's reaction to it. What if she didn't like what he'd done?

Michelle, who was once again seated directly across from Remus, noticed none of his anxiety as she calmly ate her food while discussing a particularly nasty essay they had to do for Professor Flitwick with Jennifer. She didn't even look up as the owls flooded into the Great Hall, and probably wouldn't have noticed the proud Barn owl sitting right in front of her if it hadn't pecked her on the arm in irritation. "You've got something for me?" She asked in surprise, while relieving the owl of its letter. She never got any mail, except from her mom.

Michelle was even more surprised when she read what the letter said.

Dear Michelle,

I'm not really sure how to tell you this, but I've fancied you for quite some time. In fact, I'm fairly certain that I'm in love with you. I'm not very good at expressing feelings like this in person, so I thought I'd send you a little poem. This is one of my favorites, and one of many you'll be getting from me, until you can figure out who I am. Hopefully you won't be disappointed.

Drink to me only with thine eyes,

And I will pledge with mine;

Or leave a kiss but in the cup,

And I'll not look for wine.

The thirst that from the soul doth rise,

Doth ask a drink divine:

But might I of Jove's nectar sup,

I would not change for thine.

I sent thee late a rosy wreath,

Not so much honoring thee,

As giving it a hope, that there

It could not withered be,

But thou thereon did'st only breathe,

And sent'st it back to me;

Since when it grows and smells, I swear;

Not of itself, but thee.

You are sweeter and far more beautiful than any rose, and I hope you like this poem. If you want to know who I am, well, you'll just have to wait a while. However, I will tell you this much; I'm a Gryffindor. (A/N: I know perfectly well that Ben Jonson wrote that, not Remus, and certainly not me)

Forever Yours,

XX

Michelle blushed as she read the letter, wondering who would have sent it to her.

"What is it?" Lily asked, noticing the blush. Michelle handed her the letter, not seeing the anxious look on Remus' face as he watched for her reaction. "Wow, Michelle. Looks like you've got yourself a secret admirer. Who do you think it could be?" She asked as she showed the poem to Jen and Grace.

"I don't know," Michelle said, completely puzzled. Then she smiled. "But it is sweet, isn't it?"

At this, James, Sirius, and Peter, who'd all been shown the poem, pretended to puke. Remus blushed as he acted as if he was trying to figure out who'd sent the letter. "Sweet?" Sirius said, acting as if he was disgusted by the idea of writing love poems. "Chocolate is sweet, girls. That is just pathetic," Sirius winked at Remus as he pretended to puke again.

"Oh, shut up Sirius," Jennifer said, scowling at him. "You guys obviously don't have a romantic bone in your bodies."

"They certainly don't," Lily agreed. "I'd love to get poetry from someone. You're really lucky, Michelle."

"Yeah," Grace agreed. "You'd just better hope this guy isn't someone like Snape, or Lucius Malfoy. I mean, Malfoy would do almost anything to get you."

"That may be true," Jennifer said as she went back to eating her breakfast, "but poetry doesn't seem to be Malfoy's style."

"Besides," Michelle began as she read the letter once again, "What self-respecting Slytherin would pretend to be a Gryffindor? Not to mention that this is a Muggle poem. I doubt Malfoy's ever seen it. It's odd, though."

"What is?" Grace asked, looking up from her plate.

"Well, Ben Jonson and William Shakespeare are my two favorite poets, and this is one of Jonson's best poems," Michelle said, looking around at her friends. "How could this person know that?"

The others just shrugged as they got their things together and left to go to Potions.

The next few weeks went by quite fast, and the only things that broke the monotony of the classes were the tokens Michelle's 'secret admirer' had sent her. Thus far, she had received three carnations, and two more poems, each with a small hint as to the sender's identity attached. Michelle had yet to figure out who he was, and it was beginning to get to her.

"Who do you want it to be?" Jennifer asked looking at her slyly one afternoon as they looked over the latest letter. Of course, Jennifer knew perfectly well who Michelle wanted it to be; it was no secret to the other girls who is was that their friend fancied. But rather than answer right away, Michelle continued to peruse the letter.

Dear Michelle,

I hope you've liked what I've done so far. I found this poem the other day, and because I know William Shakespeare is one of your favorite authors, I thought you might enjoy this. I can only hope you realize how true this is.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer's lease hath all too short a date;

Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimmed;

And every fair from fair sometimes declines,

By chance or nature's changing course untrimmed;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade;

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;

Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,

When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st:

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

I don't know if you've figured me out yet, but if not, here's another hint, though it may be too vague. It may also be too specific. I used to love the moon, but now I prefer the daylight.

Forever Yours,

XX

"Michelle?" Jennifer asked, looking at her friend in concern.

"I don't know," Michelle said, shaking herself out of her reverie. But she did know. She knew exactly who she wanted her secret admirer to be. She knew, because for the past few months, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. Him, and his perfect smile, and his bright amber eyes, and his gorgeous body, not to mention his brilliant mind and caring personality. Michelle was in love with one of her best friends, Remus Lupin.

"So, Michelle, I was wondering if you'd like to go into Hogsmeade with me this weekend," asked a tall, good-looking sixth year Hufflepuff boy named Michael Dawson. They were currently in the Great Hall eating dinner on the Thursday before Halloween, which would be the following Saturday. This meant, as James and Sirius had reminded Remus that morning, that he had less than two days left to tell Michelle how he felt about her before they did it for him. Remus had assured his friends that after tomorrow night, she would most definitely know he was her secret admirer.

Michael was trying not to be perturbed by the glares James, Sirius, and especially Remus were sending his way as he waited for Michelle's answer. She just smiled up at him saying, "Sorry, Michael, but I've already made plans with my friends. Maybe some other time, though."

Michael looked immensely disappointed as he said, "All right, then. Another time." As he returned to the Hufflepuff table, someone much more unwelcome approached their table. Remus groaned.

"For the last time, Danielle, I am not interested," he said before she could even open her mouth. "I do not want to go into Hogsmeade with you, and I certainly don't want to put myself through the hell of being your boyfriend again. Now please, go back to your table." Remus' friends all looked at him in shock, as well as pride.

"But, Remy," the blonde girl simpered as she shoved her way into the seat next to him. "We could have so much fun together, all alone in the village," Danielle said as she smiled and petted his leg seductively. James and Sirius were making loud puking noises on the other side of Remus, while Peter was just trying to ignore the girl who'd so rudely pushed him out of her way. Lily, Grace, Jennifer, and Michelle simply glared, much in the same way the guys had looked at Michael just moments ago, but with much more enthusiasm.

"Like I just said, Danielle," Remus began as he removed her hand from where it was massaging his thigh, "I'm not interested. I don't care about your type of so-called fun, so why don't you go find some other bloke who actually likes girls who put out."

As Danielle once again opened her mouth to speak, Sirius finally lost his patience. "Look, can't you hear? Remus isn't interested! So just leave, you stupid slut!"

The blonde looked highly affronted as she turned to Remus and said in her most sickly sweet voice, "Remy, darling, you're not going to let him talk to me that way, are you?" She looked at him expectantly as her hand returned to its former position on his leg.

Remus just looked at her disdainfully as he said, in a moment of unusual bluntness, "Why not? It's true, isn't it?"

At this, Danielle huffed as she stood up and stormed off.

The others were still congratulating Remus on getting rid of Danielle when Grace noticed a lone owl flying toward their group. "But it's too late for mail, isn't it?" Peter said, as the owl landed right in front of Michelle.

"Ooo, it must be something from your secret admirer!" Grace said excitedly as Michelle began to open the letter. "What's it say?"

"Let her read it, will you, Gracie?" Jennifer said as she too looked at Michelle curiously.

Michelle felt her face heat up as she read the letter. This was definitely the most romantic poem yet.

My dear Michelle,

This is the last letter I'll be giving you. By tomorrow night, you won't need anymore hints.

Come live with me and be my love,

And we will all the pleasures prove

That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,

Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,

Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,

By shallow rivers to whose falls

Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses

And a thousand fragrant posies,

A cap of flowers, and a kirtle

Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool

Which from our pretty lambs we pull;

Fair lined slippers for the cold,

With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw and ivy buds,

With coral clasps and amber studs:

And if these pleasures may thee move,

Come live with me and be my love.

The shepherds' swains shall dance and sing

For thy delight each May morning:

If these delights thy mind may move,

Then live with me and be my love.

I won't say anything else but this: if you want to know who I am, meet me tomorrow night at eight, outside the library.

Forever Yours,

XX

"Wow," Michelle said breathlessly. She couldn't believe it. She was finally going to find out who her secret admirer was! (A/N: theses poems belong to Ben Jonson, William Shakespeare, and Christopher Marlowe, not me!)