It was all over the school. Whispers echoed through the Great Hall like a bubbling brook, cascading along over the House Tables, traversing among the students - a wildfire of excellent accounts.

"Saw it with my own eyes..."

"That Longbottom bloke's done it..."

"Serves Snape right for being a great bully!"

"D'ya reckon he had on a pair of Neville's gran's knickers, too? Or just the hat?"

The cackles of the Weasley twins could be heard ringing above the rest as they composed a sort of Irish-style drinking song and clanked their cups of Pumpkin Juice jovially, slapping Neville Longbottom across the back and congratulating him for popping the Potions Master in his gran's old vulture hat. "Greatest thing I never saw," announced George.

"Absolutely brilliant," Fred agreed.

"If only it could be immortalized - as a statue or something!"

"Could put it right in the center of the courtyard, we could."

"Oh no, Fred," George said, shaking his head, "Not the courtyards... the Prefect's toilet, of course, right by the door of the shower! He could guard it!"

"Merlin's beard, Georgie," Fred shook his head, "He'd never let anyone in and then we'd all end up a bunch of greasy-headed gits!"

Remus smirked quietly into his stew as he sat at the Faculty table at the front of the Hall, steadily keeping his eyes down, trying to hide his amusement as the twins joked and played, their voices carrying on and on.

"Are you quite... pleased... with yourself?" drawled Severus Snape's voice directly behind Remus's shoulder.

Remus cleared his throat and turned 'round to face him. "Proud of myself? Whatever for?"

"Humiliating...me," Snape murmured, eyes cold and dark. He stared down his long nose at Remus, but when Remus opened his mouth to speak, Severus leaned down closer and his voice lowered and he said, quietly, "Do keep in mind... as you stoop to your old ways that the old ways never got you very far, did they, and neither did they protect your... precious friends." Severus's sneer rumbled in Remus's ear. "And remember, too, who it is that is mixing your Wolfsbane each month... a simple tip of the wrist... a few more leaves of aconite than the recipe calls for and..." Snape let the words trail off. "You get the point I am making."

Remus sat stiff, staring directly ahead.

"Now please excuse me," Severus stood up. "But I'm just itching to speak to the Headmaster about... everything." He walked away, sweeping across the room like a horridly oversized bat, his robes swishing about his ankles as he moved with determination.

Remus took a deep breath and reached for his cup, and though his hand shook ever so slightly, he felt as though he had done well to keep his cool.

"Mr. Lupin."

He looked up and found Minerva McGonagall staring down at him, her tall green hat set upon her head, mouth pursed, peering over her spectacles. "Professor?" he asked.

McGonagall sighed. "Please come with me to my office."

Remus hesitated, then a smirk quivered on his face. "I reckon some things never change, ey?"

McGonagall raised one eyebrow. "Evidently not."

Minerva McGonagall poured tea into a tartan colored cup on her desk, her eyes trained on the dark amber liquid as it fell from the spout. She could feel Remus Lupin's presence behind her, looking over the tea cups on display on the shelves of her office, his hands in his pockets as he rocked on the balls of his feet. There was a lot of anxious energy radiating from Remus, tension that kept his shoulders rigid and his demeanor serious and detached. Minerva turned 'round, holding out the steaming cup and saucer to Remus silently.  She knew exactly what he was looking at, without so much as a glance to the shelf.

The remains of a blue willow patterned cup, broken years ago. Because it had been broken by powerful magic, the pieces didn't quite fit when a reparo had been performed on the shards, and there were cracks and gaps between the bits of ceramic so that the pattern was ruined. Once a picture of a home with a buck, his doe, and a fawn in the yard, the tea cup now depicted only the fawn... alone. The buck and the doe had stood in the place where there was now a gap in the ceramic, and Remus stared at the hole, his face still and unreadable, only looking up when Minerva nudged him gently in the shoulder with the tea.

"Oh. Thank you," he murmured, taking the cup and saucer. He tore himself away from staring at the broken old tea cup and turned toward the desk, setting himself down in the chair that sat opposite of McGonagall's seat. Papers cluttered her desk already, even though it was only the second day of term, and Remus could see an assortment of messy quill-written script on scrolls half unfurled.

Minerva sat down across from him and sipped her own tea before placing her saucer and cup down on her desk. She watched as Remus sipped his tea as well, and then reached forward and nudged a tin toward him. "Have a biscuit," she commanded, then, eyes traveling over Remus's narrow frame and sunken cheeks, added, "Or two... or three... or four."

Remus smiled and took the lid off the tin. "I missed your biscuits, Professor," he said, taking several and smiling as he balanced them on the edge of his saucer. "I've tried purchasing them for myself but they're never quite the same as they taste when they come from your tin." His eyes twinkled.

A shiver of a smile twisted the corners of McGonagall's very serious face and she took a biscuit as well before Remus closed the tin. "Och aye... But that is because I make them myself," she said. "They're my gran's recipe on my father's side. A cailleach if I ever knew one, but a very fine biscuit maker. The secret is just a touch of a good Scottish whiskey."

Remus munched on the biscuits, having already inhaled the first, he was eating his second a bit more slowly, savoring the flavor. Now that she'd pointed it out, he could taste the warmth from the whiskey and was surprised that his nose had never picked up on it before.

"I heard you had a bit of fun with the third years today for Defense Against The Dark Arts," McGonagall said conversationally.

Remus nodded, "Mr. Filch had a boggart that needed to be done away with in the Teacher's Lounge. It apparently took up residence during the summer when there wasn't a lot of activity, in that old wardrobe."

"Severus Snape was in a right state, when he heard about Mr. Longbottom's riddikulus," she murmured. "He asked for me to speak with you about it."

Remus hesitated, biscuit halfway to his mouth, then lowered the cookie and placed it back down on the saucer. "Just a bit of fun, Minnie, really..."

McGonagall's mouth twitched. "He says that nothing's changed since you were all in school together and warned me he might go to Dumbledore if there's many more issues of the sort, but it is protocol to speak to the Deputy Headmistress first about such... goings-on."

Remus dusted his palms of crumbs. "Well, Professor, to be perfectly honest, it seems that Severus has a bit of trouble being entirely... shall we say, objective... when it comes to his patience for the Longbottom boy?"

"So I've heard," McGonagall murmured, "As well as with certain other students."

Remus stared at her for a long moment. "Has he been a bully to Harry?" McGonagall started to answer, but Remus continued, "Because I won't put up with that, you know I won't. He can't be allowed to take out old frustrations against Harry. Harry had nothing to do with those old conflicts and --"

"Just don't let it happen again. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Minnie," Remus murmured quietly.

McGonagall cleared her throat, and she studied him a moment, then she changed the subject - apparently deciding she'd done her duties and owed no more to Severus Snape. "Are you comfortable in your quarters?"

"Yes, Professor," Remus replied, withdrawing, and taking up his saucer and biscuits again. He stared into his tea cup.

"And you're okay - seeing Harry?"

"I won't pretend that it isn't... jarring. He does look exactly like his father, after all."

"But with his mother's eyes," McGonagall nodded.

"Precisely Lily's eyes," Remus nodded, though that wasn't quite true. He was thinking of the shimmering bottle-green colour that had stared back at him for so many years - Lily's, that is... They'd been filled with friendship and kindness, love and care... Those same things ought to have been a part of Harry's eyes, too, he thought, but they weren't. Harry's didn't even carry a familiarity. Though at the end of the lesson with the boggart, there had been a spark of admiration - a spark of pride. For a moment, they'd been precisely Lily's eyes. But before that moment, they'd been like dull versions of his mother's brilliance... distant and closed off.

"Remus."

McGonagall's trill made him look up and he realized he's fallen into a dark hole of thought and it surprised him for a moment to find himself here, sitting opposite her like this. For a moment, he felt disoriented... as though his trail of thought had been years long, as though everything was reversed, everything undone, everything back to how it ought to be... It was seventh year and he was here, opposite McGonagall, talking about his N.E.W.T.s and his plans for Uni and Sirius Black was waiting in the corridor for him, wearing those thick black boots and hot pink Please Return to Remus Lupin t-shirt. He could almost smell the notes of trees and wet dog that he generally associated with Sirius Black... could almost believe that he would get up, go upstairs to the Gryffindor Common Room and find James and Lily, knotted about one another on the couch, doing homework or reading that stupid book series they liked so much... he could almost hear the crackling fire, could almost feel Peter's nudge at his elbow, and the bar of chocolate that would be handed to him...

The tea cup clinked loudly as he set it on the desk.

"I'm sorry, Professor," he said, "I wasn't paying attention. What did you say?"

"I asked if you'd had much of a talk with Harry Potter yet?" Minerva repeated.

Remus shook his head.

"I think the boy would very much like to know about --"

"No." Remus's voice was firm. He stood up suddenly, and the last of the crumbs from the biscuits fell from his chest and lap onto the floor. He shook his head as he backed away from the desk. "No, Harry musn't know. No good telling him things that would only sadden him or make his situation worse. He would expect me to --" Remus's head was still shaking. "I can't... I can't be that for him. I couldn't before and I can't now, either."

"You could have before," McGonagall's voice was quiet.

Remus's jaw tightened and he swallowed his emotions.

"You know that I would have fought with Albus until the very end for you, if you'd only chosen to --"

"Minnie." Remus's voice was cold and hard, final, cutting her off. She could see the moisture in his green eyes, making them the color of grass on a rainy summer's afternoon... Then he closed them and the muscles in his cheeks flexed as he struggled to contain himself and he turned toward the door. "I - thank you... for the tea... I... goodnight." He started for the door, abandoning tea and biscuits, running...

Running like he always had done.

McGonagall watched him go and when the door slammed shut, she sighed and waved her wand, disappearing the tea cups and saucers. She sat in silence for a long moment, staring at the spot on the desk where Remus's cup had been, a ring of condensation from the bottom of the saucer where tea had spilled when he deposited them so abruptly... Then her eyes travelled to the shelf, to the teacup, half mended, the cracks and holes seeming bigger than the tea cup itself. The tiny fawn, ever alone, staring back at her.