If Blaise hadn't been so hopeless at flying, he would've joined the Slytherin Quidditch team ages ago — his love for Quidditch was genuine.
Because of that, his frustration with the team had only grown over the past three years. Truthfully, the Slytherin team had gone steadily downhill — not just in skill and teamwork, but in attitude. They were all too happy to rely on dirty tricks on and off the pitch.
Not strong enough and not decent enough — always pulling cheap stunts they thought were clever but everyone else found disgraceful. No wonder Blaise was fed up.
"Flint's the type who'll do anything to win. On top of that, he cozies up to Malfoy and lets him call the shots half the time. Put the two together, and of course the Slytherin team's shameless. It'd be a shock if they weren't."
After venting to Sean, Blaise seemed to relax a bit. He grabbed a slice of apple pie, took a few bored bites, then sighed.
"There's barely any entertainment at Hogwarts. And when your own House's Quidditch team is a joke… life's just a stagnant pond."
"You could study more. That's one way to pass the time."
Blaise rolled his eyes. "Please, spare me."
Sean looked at him and asked offhandedly, "Blaise, you're not seeing anyone lately, are you?"
"Ugh… don't remind me. I've lost interest in that mess."
Ever since Blaise had broken up with his last girlfriend — the Ravenclaw girl — he'd been emotionally hibernating. It wasn't that he was still hung up on her; Sean had seen him greet her perfectly naturally in the corridor before, no awkwardness at all.
Even when he ran into older girls he'd once chased relentlessly, he didn't bat an eye now. It was like he'd used up all his romantic energy.
More than a month into the new term, Blaise really was a changed man. No new girlfriend, no casual flirting — nothing.
Sean didn't push the topic.
Feelings were personal business, even between close friends. Everyone had their own thoughts and plans when it came to love. The closer the friendship, the more you should know when not to meddle.
And Sean was always good at drawing that line.
The afternoon class was Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Sean and Blaise arrived at the classroom early, books in hand.
But not long after they'd sat down, they spotted their Head of House walking in with a book tucked under his arm. He stepped up to the Defense Against the Dark Arts podium without a word.
Sean and Blaise exchanged a look, both catching the surprise in each other's eyes.
If a professor had resigned or been replaced, the students would have heard about it. So why was their Head of House here, filling in?
Blaise clearly had no idea what was going on, but Sean did.
The moment he saw Snape standing there, he realized exactly why. Tonight was the full moon — Lupin would be taking the Wolfsbane Potion and transforming, which meant he'd need rest before and after. Of course he couldn't hold class today.
When the bell rang, Snape turned sharply to face the class.
"Professor Remus Lupin is unable to teach today due to personal health reasons. I will be taking over your Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. The rules here are the same as in my Potions classroom — I trust I don't need to repeat them. I expect you all to follow them to the letter."
He glanced down at his notes, then continued, "Now, regarding Professor Lupin's syllabus. We—"
"I'm sorry, Professor Lupin, I'm late."
Snape turned at the interruption, his eyes narrowing when he saw Harry standing there, out of breath. A predatory glint appeared in his eyes — like he'd just spotted prey tangled neatly in a trap.
"This class began ten minutes ago, Potter! I see no reason Gryffindor shouldn't lose ten points for your tardiness. Sit down."
Harry glared at Snape.
Harry ignored Snape's order and stayed where he was, staring straight at him."Where's Professor Lupin?"
"He's unwell today," Snape said curtly. "So I'm here to take his place. Now sit down, Potter!"
"What's wrong with him?" Harry asked, still not moving.
Snape's eyes gleamed with cold satisfaction. He tilted his head slightly, as if savoring the moment."Very well. I believe I've now told you twice to take your seat, yet here you stand, wasting my time. You want to know about Professor Lupin? Fine — he is in no danger. Satisfied?"
He paused for effect."However, since you've chosen to ignore my instructions repeatedly, I'm afraid I must 'regretfully' deduct ten points from Gryffindor. And if you're still standing there in ten seconds, I'll 'regretfully' make that fifty."
Harry's mouth opened as if to argue, but he thought better of it. Glaring at Snape, he finally stalked over and dropped into the empty seat beside Ron and Hermione.
Snape's eyes lingered on Harry for a moment, then swept over the rest of the class."Before Potter interrupted us," he drawled, "I was discussing your coursework. Since Professor Lupin left no proper notes —"
Before he could finish, Hermione's hand shot up and she blurted out, "Excuse me, Professor — we've already covered Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas and Grindylows. We were about to start—"
Snape rounded on her, his lip curling."Miss Granger. I don't recall calling on you. Third-year students should know by now that they must wait for permission before speaking out. Five points from Gryffindor for your rudeness."
Hermione's mouth fell open, but she said nothing.
Snape turned back to the rest of the class with an expression of feigned patience."Quiet. If you wish to answer questions, you will raise your hand and wait your turn. It appears Professor Lupin's methods are sadly lacking in discipline — teaching you creatures better suited for first-years. He has been far too lenient with you."
He flicked open the textbook and his black eyes glittered as he looked up at them again."So, today's lesson will be more appropriate for your level. Turn to the final chapter. Today, you will learn how to recognize and defend yourselves against—"
His eyes fixed on Harry, a cruel smile tugging at his mouth."—Werewolves."