Despite having a year's supply of the Moonbar potion in his possession, Remus felt slightly depressed about leaving the De-Were facility. He had stuck to his agreement with Albus not to pursue Ren Rubor but it stuck in his throat. She had given him so much, taught him so much about himself and she was such an intoxicating mystery. Remus hated to think that he might not see her again. Albus' objections had been about stabbing himself in the foot and risking not getting the potion, but he had it now. It would be difficult to maintain a relationship between Hogwarts and darkest Russia, much less to try and start one. He checked that his notes for tomorrow's class were complete and then grabbed a new sheet of parchment and began to compose a letter.

Dear Ren,

I don't really know how to start this, so perhaps it would be best to start where we started – with a kiss. Professor Dumbledore thought that it would be best if I did not pursue you whilst we were guests and, to be perfectly frank, at your mercy regarding the Wolfsbane potion. Obviously, you were extremely generous and the Moonbar potion was more than I could have hoped for. I wander from my purpose; I felt that there was something between us that was worth exploring. You are an incredible woman and it is not merely because you have made such a tremendous difference to my quality of life that I am attracted to you. You have a dark mystery about you that is compelling beyond reason and I would delight at the opportunity to spend more time with you. I am laying all my cards on the table here, putting myself completely at your mercy. I know that long distance relationships are difficult at best and that is not what I am proposing, for the moment. I would like to spend some time with you, "go on a date" as my students would say.

Remus screwed the letter up and threw it in the fire. This was too heavy. He was alternating between almost declaring love and trying to keep things light. Maybe a simpler approach would be better. He took a fresh piece of parchment.

Dear Ren,

I know that we are countries apart, but I find that I miss your company. I know you take your work at the Project very seriously and I would not wish to drag you away from something important, but I assume that you get a night off sometimes. So, I wondered if you would like to go to dinner one night. I can apparate to Russia or I could meet you in London or Hogsmeade, whatever you would prefer. I await your reply expectantly,

Yours Remus

He resisted the temptation to rewrite it again and headed to the owlery.

Professor Parvus "Tangoman" Secutus had settled into Hogwarts with a twitchy nervousness that the students had begun to take advantage of. He was an able potions maker but had never been able to attain the elusive honour of becoming a Master of his subject. When NEWT level Potions was dropped from Hogwarts educational provisions because of his appointment, it quickly spread around the school. This was partly because the students rapidly realised that he was not a particularly good teacher and partly because their parents ranted openly about the issue in front of them whilst they were at home. Hogwarts managed to maintain its reputation through the other subjects but the poor provision for Potions made a very visible dent in its standing both in academic circles and in general. Rita Skeeter bemoaned the situation loudly, generally blaming Dumbledore for poor judgement. Professor Granger couldn't even bring herself to apply old pressures on the woman, she was right.

Professor Secutus became depressed and ever more nervous around the students and began to try to find ways of making other people pay for his own shortcomings. He became a petty and vindictive man; this was not evident in his dealings with the students because his stammering nervousness meant that he never gained enough respect to get them to pay attention, let alone be wary of him. No, Parvus Secutus applied his spiteful disgruntlement towards his own kind – the potions makers. A great many potions makers had been lost during the war and amongst those lost were twenty six of the world's thirty Potions Masters. Since then, only one person had been elevated to the position of Master and that had been a woman, Serenity Rubor. Why they didn't call her Mistress he never could understand, or rather he refused to relinquish his objections when a first year had explained to him that it was awarded upon "Mastering" the subject.

"You can't Mistress a subject Sir, you Master it and that makes you a Master of it."

He had docked the boy points for cheek and informed the class that he didn't know what he was talking about; he ignored the sniggers as he ignored mistakes in their potions.

Sitting at the High Table in the Great Hall he again felt his spite and bitterness well up in his rotund belly. Serenity Rubor had made the front page of The Daily Prophet again; she had released her Moonbar potion for commercial sale and reproduction. He nearly choked on a piece of toast as he read about her professional stupidity; the blasted woman would grant any able potion maker rights to make the potion so long as they paid a franchise fee to her research fund. She could make an absolute fortune from this research and she was all but giving it away. Parvus had almost managed a grudging respect for the woman over the years that he had spent trawling for titbits and scraps about her closely guarded research. She was furiously defensive of her research and her privacy and no-one got near enough to slip any clues about the formula to the press. She would not have her research stolen and perfected by others, why then would she just give it away?

Parvus was alone in this assessment of Ms. Rubor. Many potion makers bemoaned the fact that they had to pay a fee and others heralded her foresight in providing for more research on the back of her success. All in all, she was a hero in the world of a diminishing art and she was a saviour to all werewolves – releasing them from their plight to seek "normal" lives.

Parvus was too jealous of Professor Lupin's popularity to share these feelings. He didn't care what other people went through, so long as he came out looking better.

So it was with a bitter heart and a desire to bring down his betters that Parvus began his latest parchment of spiteful snippets of Potions gossip for Rita Skeeter. He might never make any money out of Potions advances but he could make his beer money through besmirching the characters of his peers. He pushed aside his class notes for more space.

Professor Dumbledore was merrily tucking into his breakfast. He had noticed the article about Ms. Rubor and was pleased that she was getting the acclaim that she deserved. He wondered what she would do next, now that the research centre would be closing. He reached for The Daily Prophet to take another look at her photograph and found his hand full of parchment as Professor Secutus roughly shoved his notes aside. The Headmaster came very close to scowling as he looked at the parchment and realised that his potions teacher was using Professor Snape's old lesson plans. Not only could he not do a competent job, but he couldn't even do it whilst using someone else's work as a guide. This would not do. He was distracted from his thoughts about what to do about this situation by the post arriving. The first weeks of school term always heralded an extreme quantity of post; mothers missed their children and sent them parcels and showered them with letters. It would die down in a few more weeks once they realised that their little darlings were not going to respond to each and every letter.

Remus untied the parchment from the leg of the owl in front of him and unrolled it. The writing seemed familiar but he couldn't place it immediately.

Dear Professor Lupin,

I received your letter. I appreciate your offer of "friendship" but I am afraid that it would not be advisable. I am a very private person and I have very good reasons for not pursuing relationships of any kind. I hope the potion is helping you and wish you luck in your chosen profession.

Regards,

Ms. S. Rubor

Ouch, cold. Remus guessed that he must have read that situation wrong. He was wondering if he should persist when a first year Gryffindor got sprayed with the glutinous contents of a prank parcel. Both he and Minerva sped off to calm the situation and help the confused child.

Parvus picked up Remus' letter and was about to wave it at him to let him know that he had forgotten it when he noticed something and hastily stuffed it into his own pile. He didn't notice the concerned look that the Headmaster shot after him as he headed off to the dungeons. The potions Professor had a plan and it made him oblivious to all other concerns.