Herbology ended, and most of the second-year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs trudged back to the Great Hall looking worse for wear.
Their robes were smeared with dirt, and many bore faint marks on their arms and legs from being bound.
"What on earth were you doing?" Jon heard Ron Weasley loudly demand of his sister as he passed the Gryffindor table.
"None of your business!" Ginny shot back, turning away in a huff.
Jon was among the few who had escaped a "Devil's Snare attack." Not due to any special talent—only because, in his previous life, he had spent years working with test tubes, droppers, and pipettes. His hands were steady, and that was enough not to provoke the plant's aggression.
He had managed to move three Devil's Snare spores into pots without incident, earning Hufflepuff another five points from a very pleased Professor Sprout.
Reaching the Hufflepuff table, Jon picked up a corned beef sandwich and glanced at his schedule as he ate.
That afternoon's lessons were both with Slytherin: Potions with Professor Snape and Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Lupin.
Setting the schedule aside, Jon unfolded that morning's Daily Prophet.
The headline read: Muggle Claims to Have Seen Sirius Black on the Shores of Loch Ness.
The article was brief: a young woman visiting Loch Ness claimed she had spotted Black. Thinking he was just an ordinary criminal, she called the Muggle authorities—but by the time Ministry Aurors arrived, he had vanished.
Jon didn't know Hogwarts' exact coordinates, but he was certain it was in the Scottish Highlands. Which meant Black was already close to the school.
He couldn't help but feel a grudging admiration for Harry's godfather. From Azkaban in the frigid North Sea, all the way to Surrey in southeast England—just to glimpse Harry—and then on to the Highlands near Hogwarts, all without using his wand or magic.
Living off rats and scavenged scraps for months… it was a miserable existence.
...
At two o'clock sharp, Jon was in the Potions classroom.
As in the previous year, he and Astoria took seats in the front row, directly ahead of a cluster of Slytherins.
Today, Professor Snape was teaching them to brew Swelling Solution, a potion that caused any body part it touched to swell.
Jon wasn't sure what practical use it had, but they set to work regardless.
He measured two teaspoons of dried nettles and three puffer-fish eyes into a mortar, grinding them into a fine powder. Beside him, Astoria simmered bat spleen in water in a crucible.
An hour later, the potion was nearly done. After thirty seconds of low-temperature heating in a water bath, a fresh batch of pale-purple Swelling Solution was ready.
Snape gave Jon's water-bath technique a curious glance but said nothing.
Jon carefully covered the cauldron to prevent splashes.
Before dismissing them, Snape inspected each cauldron. As usual, he found no fault with Jon's potion—but offered no praise either.
...
At ten to four, Jon, Astoria, and the rest of the class filed into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom for their first lesson with Professor Lupin.
Lupin had not yet arrived, so they sat down and took out their books, quills, and parchment.
A few minutes later, Remus Lupin entered, carrying a battered suitcase and wearing robes covered in patches.
Some Slytherins exchanged disdainful looks at the sight.
It was Jon's first real look at the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Truth be told, Lupin might have been considered rather handsome—if not for the deep creases across his brow and the scruffy, unshaven beard.
But for a "moderate" werewolf scraping by on the edge of poverty, things like grooming and fine clothes were luxuries.
Work was nearly impossible to find; he could barely support himself.
For a wizard of considerable skill, shunned by the mainstream wizarding world and living on the brink, to remain steadfast in his principles was impressive. Jon doubted he would have managed the same in Lupin's place.
"Good afternoon!" Lupin greeted them with a smile. "Put your books back in your bags—today is a practical lesson. All you'll need is your wand."
They had done some practical work with Dumbledore at the very end of the previous year, and the prospect was clearly appealing to most of the class.
"All right then!" Lupin said once everyone was ready. "Follow me, if you will."
They filed out behind him, down a corridor and around a corner—
—where the first thing they saw was Peeves, floating upside down and jamming chewing gum into a keyhole.
Lupin walked up until he was less than two feet away before Peeves looked up and began to sing:
"Clumsy, cloddish Lupin!
Lupin in patched-up clothes!
Lupin so poor he can't afford a bite!"
Peeves was always rude and disruptive, but he generally left the teachers alone. This time, though, his behavior felt pointed—almost as if someone had put him up to it.
Lupin, however, showed no trace of anger or embarrassment, as if the insults weren't aimed at him at all.
"If I were you, Peeves," he said calmly, "I'd take that gum out of the keyhole. Otherwise Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to fetch his things."
Peeves ignored him and kept singing.
Lupin sighed, drawing his wand.
"A handy little spell," he said to the class, "Watch closely."
He raised his wand above his head. "Waddiwasi!"
The gum shot out of the keyhole like a bullet, smacking Peeves in the face and sending him spinning away down the corridor.
"Nice one, Professor Lupin!" Zacharias called.
"Thank you, Mr. Smith," Lupin said with a nod and a smile. "Let's keep moving."