( 𝔳𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔦, 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖎𝖝𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓 ) — unfortunate updates

''Professor Moody!'' Professor McGonagall exclaimed, shocked.

The witch herself was coming down the marble staircase, along with Evangeline, both their arms full of books.

''Hello, Professor McGonagall,'' Moody greeted calmly, nodding to the women. ''And Professor Rosier.''

''What — what are you doing?'' She asked, their eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air.

''Teaching.''

''Teach— Moody, is that a student?'' The older woman shrieked, books spilling out of her arms.

''Yep.''

''No!'' She cried, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snap, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing, whilst Evangeline charmed all the fallen books to float beside her.

''Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment! Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?''

''He might've mentioned it, yeah,'' he replied, scratching his chin unconcernedly. ''But, I thought a good sharp shock—''

''We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!''

''I'll do that then,'' Moody grunted, staring at Malfoy with great dislike. ''He's one of yours, isn't he?'' He called over to Evangeline, who was struggling not to smile. She nodded.

Draco, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently at Moody and Evangeline and muttered something in which the words ❛my father❜ were distinguishable.

''Oh yeah?'' Moody whispered, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the courtyard. ''Well, I know your father of old, boy . . . you tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son . . . you tell him that from me . . . now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?''

''Yes,'' Draco said resentfully.

''Another old friend,'' Moody growled. ''I'd hand you off to Professor Rosier, but I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape . . . come on, you . . . '' He seized Draco's upper arm and marched him off towards the dungeons.

Evangeline left Professor McGonagall to get on with the books, approaching Harry, Ron, and Hermione. ''Would any of you like to tell me what happened?''

''He was talking about my mum,'' Ron grunted, shaking with fury. ''My house, too.''

''Right. Well, I will see to ensure such a detention that Malfoy will have wished he had stayed as a ferret. It is what he deserves. I look forward to seeing you three in Charms.''

Derelict. Deteriorated. Neglected. Synonyms of those adjectives perfectly described Lupin's cottage, Evangeline thought, as she stood outside the squat building. Her opinion didn't come from a place of judgment, but rather sympathy. She couldn't imagine living in such a house, much less alone, she presumed.

Lupin had never given any indication of company. No friends nor family were ever mentioned, the only names that his tongue spoke being students and teachers. The brunette felt a tug at her heartstrings at the sad realisation whilst holding the mysterious letter from a few days ago in her left hand. In her right there was a shopping bag; she had taken a trip to Diagon Alley beforehand, buying as much chocolate as she did essentials.

Evangeline knocked on the door hesitantly. The brunette felt an overwhelming rush of anxiety overcome her, a couple loose strands of her pin-straight hair sticking to her made-up lips, and a crease here and there which tainted her skirt and sweater.

The door slowly creaked open, only to reveal Lupin looking worse than he ever had before. He wasn't ugly, by any means; the unknown werewolf was many things, but ugly was not one of them. He simply looked exhausted. As if time had it's way with him, twisting and turning until it had sucked out all the life and youth. A beige threadbare sweater hanged loosely on his thin figure, and his brown hair had an increased amount of grey flecks.

Amber met brown and the Rosier girl's previous nervousness melted away. She regarded her old professor with a slight smile, unsure of his reaction. His gaze didn't give anything away, although his heart was beating at a thousand miles per hour and his palms had gotten sweaty. Evangeline wasn't sure why her heart swelled when he tensely returned her smile, but she began to speak before her mind could catch up with her words.

''Hello, sir.''

''I hardly think that title belongs to me anymore,'' he remarked, planted firmly in the ajar doorway. ''What brings you to my neck of the woods, Miss Rosier?''

''Woods?'' She wondered, glancing around at the misty moors. ''There are no . . . ''

He chuckled. ''It's a Muggle expression.''

''I brought you this,'' Evangeline told him. ''A little owl told me you liked chocolate, and I realised I had never thanked you properly for all that you have helped me.''

Lupin took the paper bag from her, his eyebrows furrowing. ''You didn't need to, Miss Rosier.''

''I wanted to.''

He nodded thoughtfully, before a confused expression veiled his features. ''How did you find me?''

She handed him the letter wordlessly, shivering slightly as a gust of wind ruffled her.

''Snuffles,'' Lupin mumbled, swearing under his breath. He handed the piece of parchment back to her, noticing the temperature gradually dropping and the young girl's involuntary trembling. ''Would you like to come in for a cup of tea? It's the least I can do, after all.''

''If it is not too much trouble, that would be lovely, thank you.''

Lupin opened the door, moving aside as an offer to allow Evangeline to enter. The electric shock went unnoticed by both as she brushed past him, first into a small entryway, before following his direction into the kitchen. The older man began to busy himself in making the hot beverages, leaving her to her own devices.

She observed her surroundings as the water boiled and mugs were pulled out. The interior most definitely matched the exterior, yet there was a strange, homey atmosphere inside. A hearty fire burned bright in the living room, and whilst everything in the home was surely older than the girl herself, it all had a charm to it. That's what this was — a home, not a house which could surely be mistaken for a Muggle museum.

''There you go, Miss Rosier,'' Lupin spoke, handing her the drink.

She took it from him with a grateful smile. ''Call me by my name, sir,'' she stuck her hand out. Her fingers were laden with rings, but there was a particular rock she was glad was missing. ''Evangeline.''

Lupin chuckled at the formality, nonetheless taking her soft hand into his slightly-aged grip. ''Remus.''

''Remus,'' she repeated. He would never admit it, but hearing his name come from her made him feel intrigued, as if there was a puzzle needing to be put together. ''It suits you.''

''As does yours,'' he returned. ''How have you been since we last spoke, Evangeline?''

She would never admit it, but hearing her name come from him made her feel excited, as if there was a mystery needing to be solved. ''I have been happier, truth be told. Albeit lonely, of course, but that was to be expected. My old society refuses to associate with me, and those who are not pure-blood do not trust me. They fear me, I think; I cannot say I blame them, given my past.''

''I see you took my advice, then.''

''How could I not have? And you, Remus?''

''Same old, same old.''

Evangeline furrowed her eyebrows at his vague answer, but chose not to probe. Yet. ''After your resignation, Dumbledore made me an offer, actually. Upon leaving, I was appointed Charms professor at Hogwarts.''

Remus' eyebrows shot upwards, a proud feeling settling in his chest. Professors were rarely sought out, much less such young ones; the brunette had only just turned eighteen, after all. ''Congratulations,'' he praised genuinely. ''In that case, you can be my informant — how are things at Hogwarts?''

''Well, there is a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, unfortunately — the Auror, Mad-Eye Moody. He is experienced in the field, of course, but the students would have done good being taught by you. Also, the Triwizard Tournament has returned.''

''Triwizard Tournament? I can't imagine they thought that was a good idea, given the death toll and all. Sounds like good fun, but risky all the same.''

''I do not think I would have the bravery to enter, even if I had the opportunity,'' Evangeline admitted. ''Besides, I do not think Hogwarts needs additional dangerous affairs to add to it's history, what with Quirinus Quirrell, the Chamber of Secrets, and Sirius Black.''

''I see what you mean. Do you know any news about Harry Potter and his friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger?''

''I helped the girl out with a couple of charms at the end of last year, but now they're in my fourth year class. Why do you ask?''

''Curiosity,'' Remus shrugged. ''Trouble seems to follow Harry around, much like his father. Although, I think in that particular case it was his father who searched for trouble.''

Evangeline hummed, unsure to respond. She thought it was a positive thing; Remus had finally mentioned someone who sounded like a friend, but the expression on his face spoke volumes; the subject was sore. ''Hermione Granger happened to start a conversation with me the other day — most of the students fear talking to me, unless they have to. It was some welfare scheme for House Elves . . . I bought a pin in support, of course, but I have to admit that the subject is a lot more complex than simply freeing the creatures and sending them on their ways.''

Remus smiled nostalgically. ''Yes, that is most definitely something Hermione would do. She is quite a very bright witch for her age, much like Lily.''

''Lily? Who is Lily?''

His smile down-turned, and Evangeline wished she could have held her tongue. ''A friend,'' he said simply. ''She was a very good friend of mine, back when I was still at school.''

''She sounds wonderful,'' the brunette complimented, although she knew nothing about the woman. But if Remus and her were friends, then she must have been half-decent at the least. Evangeline glanced down at her empty mug, before checking the time. ''Thank you for the tea, Remus. It was a pleasure talking to you, too.''

''The pleasure was mine, Evangeline,'' he led her to the door, his pace slow and hesitant. ''If it isn't too much trouble, you are always welcome to pop by for a chat anytime. It seems like we're in the same boat in terms of company.''

''Boat? There is no water, why would there be a . . . ''

''Muggle expression,'' he grinned. ''Goodnight, Evangeline.''

''Goodnight, Remus.''