AN: I never do this, but I urge you all to check out a short film entitled "The Greater Good," which beautifully depicts Dumbledore and Grindelwald's friendship, as well as Ariana's death. It's a little over fifteen minutes long, and you can check it out on YouTube. I couldn't have gotten this far without the readers, especially the reviewers: MuggleCreator, serialkeller, serenityselena, Narcissa-Weasly, Poetheather1, ILoveGeorgeEads, Tellur, Majerus, edboy4926, Wonderbee31, ultima-owner, Ari989, MariusDarkwolf, Guest, Fibinaci, magitech, ReadPaxJoy, elmoryakhan, randver, Kairan1979, and Laverock.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise.

Lupin had been kind enough to not dwell on his weakness. Instead, Harry had been offered a cup of tea and a Chocolate Frog. Sitting in a comfy chair in front of the fire had not erased the chilling voice he had heard after his mother's screams. He was certain it was Voldemort, though he sounded different than he had at the end of first year.

"Of course," Lupin replied, looking taken aback. "Yes, of course. James had a stag, and Lily's Patronus was a doe. Fitting, I suppose." He chuckled, sipping his tea.

"Did they have trouble casting theirs, too?" Harry wondered.

Lupin sighed and set down his cup. "Harry, the Patronus Charm is an incredibly complicated charm. It's above OWL level, and many fully grown wizards can't even produce a corporeal one. You've only given it one shot so far. I wasn't expecting much from you because it's your first time. Lily and James were incredibly gifted, and they still struggled. They were much older than you when they learned, too."

Harry shrugged, still feeling inadequate. "How long will it take me?"

Lupin frowned at him, worried. "There's no real way of telling. Harry, you don't have to continue if you don't want to."

"Professor, I have to," Harry said urgently. "It's important. If the dementors show up again at our match against Ravenclaw, we'll lose the Quidditch Cup for sure!"

This only served to make Lupin more concerned. He leaned back in his chair and studied Harry intensely. "You're sure this is what you want?"

"Positive," Harry told him firmly.

Lupin sighed again. "Alright. Perhaps we should leave it for now, though. You can come back next week. Try to think of a stronger happy memory. The happiest point in your life," Lupin advised.

Harry nodded slowly. "Professor?" He inquired. "What's the memory that you use?"

Lupin choked and coughed. "Well…that's a very personal question, Harry."

Harry felt his cheeks grown warm. "Sorry."

"No, no, it's fine." Lupin cleared his throat. "There was a time, when I was a little younger than you, that I was struggling with—with a few things. I was ashamed of myself, and I had trouble making friends as a result. But your father and a couple others…they supported me. And there was this moment when I realized that I didn't have to hide who I was in order to be accepted. That there were people out there who liked me for who I was. It was an epiphany, to say the least."

Harry desperately wanted to ask what was so wrong with Lupin that he worried he wouldn't be accepted, but he had a feeling that would only lead to more discomfort. "I think I understand," He whispered instead.

Lupin looked at him strangely. "Would you be willing to—to expand on that, please?"

Harry studied his tea cup, searching for a way to tell this tale as vaguely as Lupin had told his. "Well…I didn't have very many muggle friends. Weird things were always happening to me, and I could never figure out why. And then, I came to Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione were the first people I became friends with, but it ended growing…a lot. It's nice to know that—that no matter what happens, they'll be there."

Lupin's chair creaked as he leaned back. He hummed softly, picking up his tea cup. He refrained from taking a drink however, and swirled the liquid around for a few moments. "Harry, correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems that your friends make you happier than I've ever seen you. Could it be that they are your happy thought?"

Harry sat up straight. "You're right! That's so simple. How could I not have seen it? Thanks, Professor. Can I try that right now?"

Lupin shook his head. "Maybe another time, Harry. You should wait a bit before giving it another go."

Harry slumped. "Alright. Hey, Professor? You're friends with Professor Burbage, right?"

Lupin's cheeks turned a dark pink. "I am," He said shortly, tugging at his collar.

"Did you go to school with her?"

"I did. I don't recall ever noticing her. She was three years behind me, so that might be some of it. She also tells me that she was very shy then, which makes it unsurprising that I had no idea who she was." Lupin busied himself with rearranging papers on his desk, carefully avoiding Harry's eyes.

Harry leaned forward in his seat, mesmerized by the strange emotion on Lupin's face. "She was really upset a little while ago. Just before Christmas, I think."

Lupin stilled, his hand hovering above a stack of thin, paperback books. "Is that so?" He asked hoarsely.

Harry bobbed his head. "She said that you called her nosy."

Lupin winced. "I did," He admitted. "It was a terrible thing to do, Harry, I know that. I said things that shouldn't have been said because I was upset and hurting. That's a rubbish excuse, don't listen to me. I—" At a loss for words, Lupin fell silent.

Harry mulled this over, tapping his foot in thought. "You're friends again, right?"

Lupin nodded uneasily, drawing patterns on his desk with his finger. A bit of sandy blond hair fell into his eyes. Unaware, Lupin continued to gaze at something that only he could see. "She forgave me. I was—very surprised, to say the least."

Harry absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair. Clearly, something strange was going on with Lupin, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Burbage had come close to figuring it out. But what was so bad about Lupin? He seemed perfectly fine. A bit odd, certainly, but nearly everyone in Hogwarts was. "Do you talk to her a lot?"

Lupin glanced back at him. "Oh, I don't know. Less than we used to, but still frequently."

Harry nodded. "That's good. Erm…" Harry wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure of anything that wouldn't offend Lupin or end up being completely embarrassing. "I guess I should go. Uh, it's good that you and Professor Burbage are friends again. I'll see you next week?" He asked, standing and straightening.

Lupin rose as well, giving him a miniscule smile. "Don't forget to focus on your happy thought. Good luck, Harry."

"Thanks." Harry turned to leave, determined to figure out what was wrong with Professor Lupin.

Augusta Longbottom scanned the teachers' lounge with critical eyes. It was starting to disturb her, this constant feeling of danger lurking around every corner. It took her back to the war against Grindelwald, and to the war against You-Know-Who. An unpleasant feeling for sure, made worse by the horrid memories she associated with it. Frank's face flashed in her mind, taking her by surprise, just as it always did.

She relaxed slightly, allowing herself to sink back into the wing-backed chair near the corner. A tall oak bookcase was next to her, along with a positively grubby lamp. She itched to cast a Cleaning Charm, but reminded herself that polite witches did not go around putting charms on objects that didn't belong to them.

In the center of the room, a few professors crowded around a broomstick. Augusta inwardly scoffed at their utter fascination with it. If there were curses on it, they surely would've found them by now. It had been two weeks since a few Gryffindors turned in Harry Potter's Christmas present. Augusta had stayed far away from it, not wishing to be roped into helping. Flitwick knew far more about Charms than she did, though she was rather proficient.

Across the room, Lupin and Burbage sat on a couch, speaking in hushed voices. She yearned to know what they were speaking about, but judging by the flustered expression on Lupin's face, she could easily guess. Briefly, she wondered when Burbage would realize how he felt. The thought left her head as soon as it had come.

Neville had been shockingly well-behaved recently, and she could only assume that it was because of her presence. Perhaps this was exactly what the boy needed to straighten up. Of course, there was also the possibility that the Vane girl had something to do with it.

Romilda Vane was an enigma. She was from a decent sort of family, that much was true. Decent, in that their lineage was superb, their parties were excellent, but their attitudes left something to be desired. The girl herself was both alarmingly similar and incredibly different from the rest. Well-mannered and well-spoken, intelligent, somewhat kind. She wasn't exactly pretty, but she wasn't ugly. She would do.

Not that Augusta was planning on marrying Neville off. She just wanted to give a slight push in the right direction. He was young, but these sorts of things were best learned when one had little to no experience. Even if things didn't work out with Vane, at least he would know what sort of standards a boy like him should hold.

Still, something seemed slightly off with Vane. She was almost too perfect; why would a girl like her be interested in a boy like Neville? It was suspicious, and Augusta had too much familiarity with suspicion to let this pass her by.

Some part of her felt deep satisfaction in seeing Burbage snap to attention as she approached. Lupin was more subtle, but she could see his eyes sharpen and take her in. Augusta noted their close proximity, and Lupin's obvious discomfort. There were certainly feelings there, but it didn't concern her.

"Burbage."

"Professor Longbottom! How nice to see you." Burbage kept eye contact, but she wrung her hands in her lap. "How may I help you?"

"What do you know about Romilda Vane?" Augusta didn't feel like wasting time on idle chatter, and she was pleased to see that Burbage felt the same way.

"Not much," Burbage admitted nervously. The woman began to drum her fingers on the coffee table in front of her. Lupin gently nudged her elbow, causing her to relax and flash him a smile. "She's very closed off. She didn't go home for holidays. It seems like she doesn't have a very good relationship with her family. That's just my observations, though."

Augusta nodded. "Thank you for the information." She swiftly turned on her heel, intending to go back to her chair in the corner and piece together everything she knew. Behind her, she could sense Burbage itching to find out why she asked.

"Is everyone here?" Penelope stood at the front of the abandoned classroom that now served as the meeting place for the Gryffindors. Despite the fact that she was a Ravenclaw, Penny was one of the three leaders of the group.

Lavender liked her well enough, but she could think of better things to be doing at the moment. She struggled not to show her boredom on her face. Her dream journal lay open in front of her, right next to her Divination textbook. She desperately wanted to get started already, but she had a feeling that rushing Penny wasn't a good idea.

"Looks like it," Oliver replied, leaning against the wall.

Penny nodded. "Alright. First order of business, then. We need to talk about Lupin."

Harry frowned. "What's wrong with Lupin? He's teaching me the Patronus Charm."

"He is?" Taken aback, Percy openly gaped at Harry before catching himself. "Would he teach anyone else?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Probably." He sunk down in his chair, uncomfortable with the curious way everyone looked at him.

Hermione chewed on the end of her quill. "If he could teach some of us, then we'd be able to protect ourselves from the dementors. How did you convince him to do it?"

"I just asked." Harry readjusted his glasses. "So, what's wrong with him?"

"Well, he has been acting rather odd lately," Penny began tentatively, "and we thought that—"

"Who's we?" Fred interrupted.

"Penny and me. Hermione, too. But that's hardly the point. Surely we've all noticed that some things just don't add up about him, right?" Percy tapped his foot impatiently. Privately, Lavender thought that he hadn't acted this much like the old Percy since last year.

"Like what?" Dean asked. "He's a nice enough bloke. We've already learned more with him than with Lockhart and Quirrel put together."

"We're not saying he's not a nice person," Penny interrupted hurriedly. "It's only that—oh, well, you can't help but wonder, can you?"

Seamus was beginning to lose his temper. "Wonder about what? If there's something going on with Lupin, why can't you just come out and say it?"

Hermione finally set down her quill and devoted her whole attention to the conversation. "Remember when Lupin was gone for a few days and we had Snape as our professor in Defense?"

"How could I forget," Parvati muttered. Lavender smiled and agreed silently.

"He was gone again for a few days during break. Right after Christmas." Hermione put a special emphasis on her words, but the meaning was lost on them.

"Don't you see? His absences were almost a month apart. A full moon cycle." Percy jumped up and gestured to them irritably.

Oliver groaned. "You can't honestly be thinking what I think you're thinking."

"And why not?" Penny challenged. "It makes sense, doesn't it?"

Lee frowned. "No way. Lupin can't be—he's a good guy!"

"He can still be a good guy and be a werewolf!" Alicia snapped at him.

Lavender gasped. Lupin was a werewolf? But that was impossible! "That—he can't be a werewolf," She spoke up weakly. "That doesn't make any sense."

"No, it does," Parvati realized. "His boggart—we all thought it was a crystal ball that he was scared of, but what if it was the full moon?"

"Snape keeps bringing him this potion," Harry whispered. "I thought he was being poisoned."

"Probably Wolfsbane," Percy decided. "Most likely, McGonagall wouldn't hire him unless he took it. It would help him keep control during the full moon."

"Okay, Lupin's a werewolf. So what?" George questioned defiantly.

"Yeah, what's the point of holding a whole meeting about it?" Fred asked.

"Oh, come on," Lavender interceded. "It's obvious, isn't it? Lupin's in love with Burbage!" She leaned back in her chair, satisfied that she finally knew something the others didn't.

"What?" Neville blinked rapidly.

"I knew it!" Fred pumped his fist in the air.

"Er…actually, that was all the meeting was supposed to be about," Percy mumbled. "But now we need to talk about this new development." He took off his horn-rimmed glasses and rubbed them on his shirt. "How can you tell?"

Fred smirked. "It's easy, really, it's that…uh…it's that…Lavender, help me out here."

Lavender sighed exasperatedly. "Am I really the only one who sees it? It's in the way he looks at her." She turned back to her dream journal, thinking the whole matter settled.

"How?" Neville clearly couldn't grasp this concept.

"Well," Lavender fumbled. "He looks at her like—like she's the prettiest girl he's ever seen!" She gushed, swept up in the romance.

Lee wrinkled his nose. "Really? I mean, yeah, Burbage isn't half bad, but she's not the prettiest girl in the world, if you know what I mean."

Lavender nearly rolled her eyes. "That's not the point! The point is, even if he could date a supermodel, he wouldn't, because he loves Burbage."

"Wait. Lupin loves Burbage?" Ron repeated, appearing completely taken aback.

"Ugh!" Lavender threw her hands up in the air. "Yes! Lupin loves Burbage, and he wants to marry her, and they'd be the cutest couple ever! What is so hard to understand about that?"

"Lavender," Parvati started carefully, looking mildly frightened. "It's certainly a sweet idea, and it would be really nice if everything turned out that way, but…are you absolutely positive that he loves her?"

Lavender grimaced, beginning to doubt herself. She had never heard Lupin come out and say it, and it seemed like she was the only person to see it. Maybe it was all in her head. Her face began to crumple and her cheeks burned in embarrassment as she realized that she was wrong—

"I think it makes sense," Harry said firmly.

Lavender glanced up, breath caught in her throat. "Do you see it too?"

Harry squirmed. "Well, it seems like he does, that's all. He always blushes when he talks about her. And it seems like they're more than just friends. I dunno, it's stupid."

"No, no, if you saw it too, then there might be something there." Oliver pushed himself away from the wall and pulled down a piece of chalk to write on the board. "Think about it. What are all the times we can remember Burbage and Lupin talking to each other?"

"Or about each other," Percy added.

"Uh, Fred and I talked to him about Burbage when they were having a fight." George's forehead creased as he concentrated.

"Yeah, he kept saying he didn't like Burbage, but he definitely did."

"Alright. What else?" Oliver wrote In Denial on the board.

"When we asked how he got in a fight with Burbage, he acted really guilty."

"Too guilty," Harry tacked on.

"Okay." Oliver scribbled Guilt. "There's gotta be more than that, though."

It was as if a light bulb had gone off over the whole room. Ideas and memories were being thrown out left and right, and Oliver could hardly keep up.

"She was so worried the first time he got sick."

"He left a letter to her on the full moon, not to anyone else."

"She talks about her problems with him."

"He got her flowers that one time."

"She always defends him in front of people."

By the time they were finished, nearly the entire board was filled with Oliver's short, cramped writing. They were fairly confident that Lupin did indeed love Burbage, but that created a whole new problem.

"Guys," Penny muttered. "Do you see what I see?"

"Yeah," Percy mumbled quietly. "This is gonna be an issue."

"No kidding," Oliver snorted.

"What's the matter?" Seamus asked.

Leann moaned. "It looks like Lupin loves Burbage, but…it doesn't look like Burbage loves Lupin."

The group fell silent.

"But—but she has to love him," Lavender said softly. "Otherwise, Lupin will just be lonely and heartbroken."

"She doesn't have to," Katie pointed out. "Chances are, she probably doesn't even know that he loves her. She thinks they're just friends. Best friends, yeah, but still just friends."

"Maybe she does like him," Alicia guessed. "Maybe she's just trying to hide how she feels cause she thinks he won't like her back."

"Or," Angelina burst out, sitting up and bouncing in her seat. "Maybe she just doesn't know that she loves him."

Ron shook his head. "That doesn't make any sense. How can someone not know that they like someone?"

Angelina glared at him. "It happens. I didn't know I liked George until Fred said something. Of course, I was kinda tied up with Diggory, so that might not be the best analogy to use…" She trailed off.

"Is there another guy she likes?" Cormac inquired.

Dean scoffed. "No way. The only other guy her age in the castle is Snape, and she hates him."

"That doesn't rule out the possibility of her liking someone else," Hermione suggested. "Maybe he doesn't live in Hogwarts."

"It seems like she would've told us though. And wouldn't she leave the castle to go see him, or whatever?" Lavender leaned on her hand. "None of this adds up."

"What do we do?" Seamus asked, confused.

"We should take a vote," Oliver declared. "Everyone who thinks Lupin and Burbage should get together, raise your hand."

Everyone's hands went up.

"Everyone who thinks Lupin's in love with Burbage, raise your hand."

Again, all hands went up.

"Everyone who thinks Burbage is in love with Lupin?"

The results were about half and half.

"Well, this is no good." Lee frowned. "If Burbage isn't in love with Lupin, how are they supposed to get together?"

A smile spread across Lavender's face as an idea came to her. "Easy," She said, ignoring their disbelieving looks. "We find a way to make Burbage fall in love with Lupin."