Werewolf, Chapter 2:

Remus Lupin stood outside the door of his classroom, feeling more than a little nervous. How would his students react to seeing him up close? Would they be afraid? Would they hate him? Would they pity him? He couldn't decide which was worse.

He'd been staring at the door for a full minute now, gathering the courage to open it. He was extremely tempted to run back down the hallway and hide in a broom closet, but he knew he was being ridiculous. Here was Remus John Lupin, werewolf, Marauder, and senior member of the Order of the Pheonix, afraid of a classroom full of adolescents. He was about to bite the bullet and walk inside, when somebody touched his elbow. He turned around and came face to face with Hermione Granger. He instantly turned bright red.

"How long have you been standing there?" he asked, dreading the answer. He could almost sense her smiling as he stared down at his feet.

"Almost two minutes." Remus continued to concentrate on his shoes. He had never noticed how many small tears and holes there were in them. He would have to remedy that before the first snows came.

"What are you doing out here?" she inquired, tilting her head slightly. Lupin glanced at her quickly before continuing his inspection of his shoes.

"Uhhh…." he said intelligently. Oh whatever, might as well start out the year honestly. "I was actually looking for a place to hide. You don't happen to know any do you?"

To his surprise, Hermione laughed, softly and sweetly. He grinned uncertainly.

"Nervous?" she asked quietly. Lupin nodded, shamefaced. "It's okay, Dumbledore gave you a break with your first class. You've got nothing but friends in here." His features brightened considerably. "Come on." she urged. "You'll do fine." And with that, she opened the door and pushed him in.

When the bell rang, Professor Lupin was grinning sincerely. The first class of the year had been a success. Of course there had been a little uncertainty at first, as Lupin got used to the idea that every single person in the room knew his secret, but the tension had dissipated immediately when he asked how they had been for the past two years. The students immediately launched on a tirade against the absolutely insane, and ultimately fake Professor Moody who performed Unforgivable Curses on spiders (Ron turned distinctly pale at this), and the absolutely infuriating, and ultimately punished Professor Umbridge, who refused to teach them any magic at all. By the time they were done, everyone was laughing and the atmosphere was back to normal. He then proceeded to teach them about gnomes, both wild and garden. He took them out to the garden on the grounds and set them loose on the unsuspecting gnome population. With the help of Harry and Ron, who seemed exceptionally adept at the task, Lupin soon had his entire class throwing gnomes, punting gnomes, and doing whatever it took to completely degnome the garden. He only hoped the gnomes would limp back in time for his next sixth year class.

Feeling much more confident, the Professor managed to get through all of his classes without incident. He had a feeling that his students (excluding the Slytherins) might even like him as their teacher. He had certainly managed to impress a few second year boys when he threw a gnome a full twenty meters and in through the second story window of Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration classroom. Judging by the screeches and shouts heard from inside, he would guess that Minerva had been in the middle of a class. Doubled over with laughter, he had shooed the excited second years back into the school before someone stuck their head out the window and saw them. Even after seventeen years, he still held that schoolboy fear of Professor McGonagall's wrath. However, when she showed up for dinner with her hat falling off and her robes smeared with dirt, he just couldn't resist saying, "If I didn't know better, I would say that you had a run in with a garden gnome. But how would a garden gnome get in to a second story classroom?"

She screeched, seized him by the ear, and marched him down the length of the Hall past snickering students, yelling at him about this and that and how it was not considered good manners to THROW A GARDEN GNOME INTO SOMEONE'S CLASSROOM WHILE THERE WERE PEOPLE IN IT. At this, the Hall erupted with laughter, and Minerva deposited him in his seat. He tried, and failed, to keep a straight face.

"So are you saying that I can throw a garden gnome into your classroom when there aren't any people in it?"

There was another shout of laughter. The flustered Transfiguration teacher, who couldn't seem to think of anything to say, just waved her finger threateningly at him. The students only settled down when she gave them all a very dirty look and collapsed in her seat. Lupin didn't stop laughing for five minutes.

All in all, it had been a good day. His students liked him, hardly anyone judged him by his condition, and he had managed to get himself into a fair amount of innocent trouble. Life was good.

As Minerva McGonagall dragged Professor Lupin around the Great Hall by his ear, many miles away a much more sinister interaction was taking place. Two dark-clad figures met in the middle of a star-lit field. As they reached one another, the shorter one knelt and kissed the hem of the taller one's robes.

"My master." the kneeling figure whispered.

"You said you needed to speak to me." The standing man sounded impatient.

"Yes, yes. I do indeed need to speak to you, about something that could ensure our victory in this war." The servant seemed excited, like a dog expecting reward after fetching a stick.

"Get on with it then. I don't have much time."

The servant sighed, his dramatic moment ruined. "Albus Dumbledore has once again hired the werewolf."

For the first time in the conversation, the tall man seemed interested. He leaned forward, his servant backed away perceptibly.

"Are you sure?"

"Positively sure, sir."

The master laughed, high, cold, and cruelly. "Well, well! It seems as though our dear Professor isn't quite as careful as he used to be! Yes, we can turn this to our advantage quite easily. It will take time, and careful planning, but it can be done. I must think on this… I will contact you in the usual way when I have need of you." The servant rubbed his left forearm, shuddering at the mention of 'the usual way'. His master spoke again. "You have served me well, Litnor. I thank you."

The servant backed away, bowing and groveling. "Thank you, my lord. Thank you." He turned and disappeared into the high grass. The tall man stood for a while, thinking, and then he, too, turned and left.