As Remus stayed back in the classroom, fearing what Manard would do next, his friends apparently decided to stay by his side. That was either a very good thing or a very bad thing indeed.

Students filed out, and Manard walked over to the door—clack, clack, clack—to bid goodbye to each of them. Remus sat at his desk, staring at the wall, and then he felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped, knocking over his inkpot in the process. "Fiddlesticks," he said angrily. "That was uncalled for, Wormtail."

Peter removed his hand from Remus' shoulder. "Couldn't you hear me coming?"

"Yeah, but I didn't expect you to touch me. Sorry. I overreacted. Bit jumpy today."

"I'm not surprised." James waved his wand, and the inkpot floated back to its place on the desk, leaving a considerable puddle of ink on the floor; he then patted Remus' hand in a way that was likely meant to be comforting but only felt patronizing. "I'm so angry with Sal I could scream," he said in a conversational sort of way.

"Don't. It'll hurt my ears."

"That's the only reason I'm not. Anything for you."

"Anything for me? So are you willing to leave the classroom and let me deal with him myself? I promise I'll give you all the details later."

Sirius patted Remus' hand now, too. "Anything but that," he said.

The last non-Marauder student left the classroom, Manard shut the door carefully, and then the clacking of Manard's cane rang across the classroom once again as he made his way toward Remus. "You needn't look so terrified," he chuckled. "You look like a lamb to the slaughter. I just want to talk. Oh, erm… you three. James, Sirius, Peter. I really wanted a private audience with Remus, not a semi-public one."

"We know, and we're not giving it to you," said James, crossing his arms. "A werewolf hunter? Really? What was Albus thinking?"

Manard frowned. "I—"

"You can't be around Remus! It's not right! I won't allow it!"

"James—"

"You've murdered people!" shouted Sirius. "How can we trust you not to murder Remus?"

"Sirius—"

"You know what?" said James, small amounts of saliva flying out of his mouth. "I think you're the monster! You're a sorry excuse for a human being, and I can't stand such awful, evil prejudice so close to my friend!"

"Stop."

"You should quit! Right now! Or I'll get you sacked! And furthermore, I think that—"

"QUIT IT!" shouted Remus, and James fell silent.

"Merlin's beard, Moony," said Sirius. "I'm not sure I've ever heard you shout like that before."

"I'm sorry," whispered Remus. "You're just being really annoying."

Manard smiled. "It's all right. I was thinking of doing the same thing, myself, but it would have been quite inappropriate as a teacher."

"Killing students is also inappropriate," said James, arms crossed.

"I agree. You know, I've heard things about you four. The staff gave me the update last night, and the Marauders seem to be very popular indeed."

"What have you heard?" asked Peter.

"Well, I've heard that you always stand up for what you believe to be right. I've heard that you aren't afraid to cause a disruption in class. I've heard that you like to joke and hate being studious, but your love for justice and hatred for Dark magic equal that. I've heard that you've gone to questionable lengths to rid the school of Dark magic, including taking matters into your own hands and bullying Slytherins."

"It's not bullying," grumbled James.

"My point is, James, I respect you very much, and I'm not surprised you felt the need to speak up. I know how suspicious I seem, which is precisely why I wanted to speak with Remus alone after class and assuage his fears… which I now realize was very suspicious in and of itself. I'm sorry. Please believe me when I say that I do not want to hurt your friend."

"But you hate werewolves," said Sirius.

"I do not hate werewolves. I hate people who kill other people. If Remus isn't one of those, then I like him perfectly well."

"But…"

"In fact, I think a lot of this is prejudice—the same kind you don't wish me to inflict upon your friend. I know my career paints me as an awful person to people with your backgrounds and beliefs, but I ask you to look beyond the surface and recognize that I am more than the sum of my parts, and recognize that the topic of werewolves is a deeply complicated one."

"What's so complicated about it?" muttered Sirius. "Just don't kill them. It's that easy."

"It is not that black-and-white, I'm afraid. I'm not saying all werewolves kill people, and I'm not saying your friend is inherently evil. But some werewolves kill people, and those werewolves have potential to be very dangerous. Only a powerful curse, a great physical violence, or wolfsbane can fend off a werewolf. Muggles, children, and most wizards are defenseless when faced with a werewolf on the full moon. I was heavily trained and had years of experience, and look what happened to me." Manard pointed to his leg with a smile.

"And look what happened to me," said Remus wryly, gesturing to his entire body. He wasn't sure how Manard would take the joke, but surprisingly enough—Manard laughed.

"That was funny," he said. "I appreciate someone who can joke about things."

Remus wasn't sure what to say to that. "Thanks."

"Anyway," said Manard, "werewolves can be dangerous when they don't take the proper precautions and lock themselves up first. My job is to protect the general population from the werewolves who are irresponsible and/or evil. I will not bother your friend, who does everything correctly and seems to be a very nice—and funny—person. Do you understand?"

James frowned. "You're… okay with werewolves?"

"Absolutely. As long as they're not killing anyone."

"You aren't prejudiced against Remus?"

"Not at all."

"You'll treat him fairly?"

"To the best of my ability."

"And you've never hurt a werewolf in human form?"

Manard paused, and he seemed to be choosing his words delicately. "I have never harmed an innocent werewolf," he said.

James looked at Sirius, and Peter looked at both of them. "Do you believe him, Moony?" Sirius asked.

Remus stared at Manard. Manard smiled and shifted his cane in his hands, but Remus did not look away. Was it possible that Remus was truly as prejudiced as others? Perhaps he really hadn't looked past the stereotype of werewolf hunters hating werewolves. Perhaps Manard's anti-werewolf sentiments were just bitter truths—Remus liked bitter truths. Perhaps Professor Manard would be a bit like Professor Questus.

"I believe him," said Remus, although he still wasn't entirely convinced. There was something in Manard's eyes that was a little off-putting, though Remus couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Good enough for me," said Sirius. "You still need to talk to Remus, Sal?"

"I would like to, yes. I do want to ensure that there are no hard feelings."

"Do it right now. Then we'll walk him to class."

"I'd really like to speak with him alone, Sirius. People tend to say things they don't mean around their friends."

"We're not like that. He trusts us."

"I'd like to see for myself. It'll make me feel better."

James sighed, and then he started walking out of the classroom. "Let us know if anything happens, Moony," he called.

"I will," said Remus, not taking his eyes off of Professor Manard.

They left.

The door closed behind them.

Manard smiled and waved his wand; a chair appeared on the opposite side of Remus' desk, and Manard sat, setting his cane atop his lap.

"So," he said, staring directly into Remus' eyes, "most everything I just said was a lie."

"I had my suspicions," said Remus quietly.

"I dislike you very much, Remus, and I do not want you at Hogwarts."

"I understand."

"In fact, I am appalled that Albus fails to see through your façade."

"It's not a façade."

Manard sighed. He leaned closer to Remus, cane scraping against the legs of the desk. "May I be frank with you, Remus?"

"You may go by whichever name you'd like, Frank—"

"Oh, shut up. That's not funny, and you're not fooling anyone. Here's the thing. The Ministry isn't happy with Albus' decision to keep you at the school, especially as Dark activity is on the rise. He is taking a massive risk to keep you here—in fact, they brought him in for questioning a couple of days ago, and it was all about you. No one wants you here, Remus. We took a vote, and only one person voted to keep you at Hogwarts—Wilma Harrington, and she was always a bit of an airhead anyway."

Remus squirmed.

"But Hogwarts is not a democracy, unfortunately. What Albus says, goes—and he wants to keep you here, so I want to watch. I requested the job because I wanted to make sure you didn't hurt anyone. I wanted to see exactly what Albus saw in you, and I wanted to study and observe you in the hopes that it would help me in my future werewolf-hunting endeavors. You understand, don't you?"

"That I'm being used?"

"Exactly. In addition to using you as a subject of study, I am using you to watch Albus. If he makes one mistake, I intend to bring it before the Ministry and move to have him removed from his position. They think we need him for the war, but I might be able to change their minds. I'm watching him, and he knows it—he wanted to hire someone else, but there was no one. There's something he doesn't know, though."

"What?"

"He doesn't know that I'm watching you as well. As you've seen, I can be very convincing. Both of us can, apparently. You have your innocent act, and I have my kind-and-caring act."

Remus frowned. "I'll tell Professor Dumbledore."

"You won't. Do you know why?" Manard raised his eyebrows in a sinister sort of way and leaned forward. "Because I wasn't sworn to secrecy about your lycanthropy, Remus. It's against the law for mere citizens to swear people to secrecy. Only the Ministry can do that—Albus, unfortunately for you, does not have that happy power. He relies on his influence, which I am not… well… influenced by."

Remus crossed his arms, and Manard smiled again. "We're going to play nicely in public, the two of us," he said. "We're going to pretend to be the best of friends, and you'd better play your part perfectly convincingly. If anyone finds out that we are not the best of friends, then everyone who reads the Daily Prophet will also know that Remus Lupin is a werewolf."

Remus thought long and hard, but he didn't see a way out. Manard wouldn't even get into trouble for blackmail, because the Ministry would never believe Remus' word over Manard's.

"Don't bother killing me," said Manard. "That won't work, of course. I've already told your secret to a close friend of mine, and my friend is perfectly willing to publish the information if something should happen to me."

Remus sat there, perfectly still, staring at Manard. He hadn't been planning on killing Manard, of course, but the knowledge that an unidentified person knew his secret was deeply unsettling.

"Do we have a deal, then?" said Manard. "I keep your secret, and you keep mine. I stay here, waiting for you or Albus to slip up—if you both behave, then there shouldn't be too much of a problem. For him, at least. I regret to inform you that I'll hate you no matter what." Manard smiled. "But if you don't behave, then it's expulsion for you, and maybe even for Albus as well. How's that sound?"

Remus stared at Manard for another moment, and then he slowly nodded. He didn't have a choice, did he?

"Good." Manard held out his hand, and Remus stared at it, confused. "I want you to shake it," Manard prompted.

"Why would you want to shake my hand?"

"Because it signifies the closing of a deal. Are you dumb?"

"No, I mean… you don't like me, do you?"

"Of course I don't." Manard leaned closer, the same sinister smile on his face. "But I'm not afraid of you, Remus, so I don't have any problem shaking your hand. I know you're not contagious, and besides, you're wearing gloves. Come on."

Remus hesitantly took Manard's hand, and Manard gripped his own with surprising force. "There," Manard said triumphantly. "It's settled, then. As of right now, we will be the best of friends in public. Now, I'd say it's time to put that to the test: Albus has requested an audience with the two of us, and I think I know exactly what it's about. Don't you?"

Remus nodded.

"Goodness. Can't you speak?"

"I can speak."

"Good, because you'll need to. You'll need to be a very good liar, because Albus is a very, very perceptive person… and he'll be watching the both of us very closely, I'm sure. Remember, if he finds out, then your secret ends up all over tomorrow's issue of the Daily Prophet."

"So you've said."

"Fortunately, you already know how to deal with Albus, don't you? You've been lying to him for years. I must say, I'm quite excited to see it in action… follow me, then, and please get the door for me. It is very difficult to open the door with a cane."

Remus shook his head. He was being forced to keep this secret, yes, but he would not be a servant as well. "No," he said as clearly as possible.

Manard quirked an eyebrow. "No? Why not?"

"You're blackmailing me for one specific reason, but I won't be your slave."

"I'm merely asking you to do a favor for a disabled man. I'm not ordering you to do anything."

"All right. If you're not ordering, then it's not a problem if I decline, is it?"

Based on the look in Manard's eyes, Manard wasn't asking Remus for a favor. This was some sick show of power, some test to see if Remus would listen, and Remus wasn't going to. He wanted to maintain a little bit of autonomy, because he knew firsthand how important it was for him to keep his own mind and make his own decisions. He already had to give all that up during a full moon. Why would he do it again now, albeit in a wildly different fashion?

"Let me rephrase," said Manard. "Perhaps you'll understand it if I say it this way: I am asking you for a favor, and I will make your life a living hell if you do not comply." Manard smiled. "Would you like to test the waters further, or do you want to get the door for me?"

Remus frowned. "I'd like to test the waters further, thank you very much. So far, they seem to be quite tolerable temperatures."

"Ah, but you're ignoring the jellyfish underneath the surface. Best way to learn that is firsthand, though, isn't it? You prefer a hands-on approach, even though you know you'll get stung?"

"What?"

"Well, it's clear you're not a Ravenclaw. Metaphor. Testing the waters. There's a "beware of jellyfish" sign on the beach. Do you still wish to jump in and test them?"

"Er, yeah. I suppose."

Manard sighed. "Gryffindors," he said. "You're all the same." Then he pulled his wand out of his pocket—it was black vine—and twirled it idly in his hand. Remus pulled out his own wand.

"What are you doing?" Manard asked. "We're not about to duel."

"I don't trust you, sir," said Remus slowly.

"Probably a good decision. I wasn't going to hex you, though. Not today."

Manard pointed his wand at the sky, away from Remus, and gave it a flick. Immediately, Remus' satchel went shooting into Manard's hand, and Manard dropped it into the ink that Remus had spilled earlier with a wet plop.

"What—Professor—why—?" Remus blinked. The notes from Professor McGonagall had been in his satchel, and so had a letter from his mum… not to mention all of Remus' textbooks, the enchanted notebook he shared with his friends, and the bandages Madam Pomfrey had given him.

"Interestingly, Scourgify will work on everything as long as the ink is still wet," said Manard, pulling Remus' satchel out of the ink and handing it back to him. "After that, the ink is considered part of the item itself and won't siphon off. I'd let you go back to your dormitory and finish cleaning that before the ink dries… but unfortunately, we have an appointment with Albus right now."

Manard started making his way toward the door—clack, clack, clack—and Remus started cleaning off the most important things in his bag. Unfortunately, some of the ink had already dried, and there was nothing that Remus could do about the dried ink on McGonagall's notes and on the letter from his mother. He managed to salvage the enchanted notebook and most of the textbooks… and then Manard called him.

"After you, then," he said, propping the door open against his cane. "If you're so insistent on not holding open the door, then I might as well help out."

Remus was aware he was making a face, and he tried to correct it as quickly as possible. He passed by Manard, but Manard grabbed his wrist, vice-like, before he could fully escape. "What is it?" asked Remus, frustrated.

"What is it, sir," Manard prompted.

There was silence.

"What is it, sir," said Remus dully, unable to care at this point.

"That's better. I only wanted to remind you that what I did just now—" Manard gestured to Remus' bag, which was still dripping with ink in some places— "was only scratching the surface. I can do a lot worse. This was fun and all, and I understand you needed to test the boundaries, but I was being lenient. Later on, you'll need to start weighing the consequences of your actions instead of acting rashly. A difficult skill for a Gryffindor to learn, I know, but I happen to know that werewolves are master manipulators—so I know you can weigh consequences just fine."

Remus glared.

"Which we will prove, of course, in about two minutes. Walk with me, if you will, Remus. Albus is expecting our presence, and I am expecting incredible acting skills from you. Understood?"

"Understood, sir," said Remus as ferociously as possible, and then Manard smiled, removed Remus' wrist from his grip, and began walking down the corridor—clack, clack. Remus gritted his teeth and followed, all delusions of a decent year slipping from his head. He should have known that he couldn't be happy for long, because Remus was a werewolf, and everyone knew that werewolves were terribly unlucky creatures.