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Students kept dashing past their compartment door, laughing and chattering excitedly about Hogsmeade. Every now and then they'd sneak a glance at the sleeping new professor.
Sean took the opportunity to quietly study Lupin up close. He still looked exhausted—which wasn't surprising. Before leaving, he had pulled two straight all-nighters interviewing candidates for the new bookstore manager.
His robes were in better shape now, though he still clung to those old patched ones he loved. He had also brought that same battered trunk. Sean knew his own transfiguration spell couldn't have lasted this long, so Lupin must have been the one keeping the charm alive.
Lupin never forgot even the smallest act of kindness.
Maybe because he'd received so few of them in his life—just like one particular young wizard.
The train rumbled northward while Sean lost himself in the sea of magical history. He held the unfinished manuscript of Wizarding Magical Chronicles, barely moving in his seat except for the occasional flick of a finger that turned the page automatically.
Around one o'clock, the plump witch with the food trolley stopped at their door.
"Should we wake him?" Ron asked, nodding toward Professor Lupin. "Looks like he could really use something to eat."
Hermione approached carefully.
"Um… Professor?" she said softly. "Excuse me—Professor?"
No response.
"You try—" Hermione turned to Justin.
"He's worn out, Hermione," Justin said with a helpless shrug. "It took him two full days and nights just to pick a qualified replacement."
"Don't worry, dear," the trolley witch said cheerfully as she stepped inside and handed Justin a tall stack of cauldron cakes. "If he wakes up hungry, I'll be right up front with the driver."
"I guess he's just sleeping, right?" Ron whispered once the witch had slid the door shut. "He's not… dead or anything?"
"He's still breathing," Hermione replied quietly, taking her cauldron cake from Justin.
Professor Lupin might not have been the most exciting travel companion, but having him in their compartment actually came in pretty handy.
By three or four in the afternoon, rain had started falling. The rolling hills outside the windows blurred behind sheets of water.
That was when they heard footsteps in the corridor again. Three very unwelcome faces appeared in the doorway.
Draco Malfoy, flanked by his two hulking cronies: Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.
Malfoy's pale, pointed face wore its usual sneer. He was the Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team—the same position Harry played for Gryffindor.
Of course, neither of them had ever beaten a certain Ravenclaw Seeker.
As everyone liked to say: if you somehow managed to beat Ravenclaw, the furious team would simply call in their real star player.
Wood had long since given up on that particular battle. He'd never even seen that Ravenclaw train—how was anyone supposed to beat him?
"Hey, look who it is," Malfoy drawled lazily, sliding the compartment door open. "Snot and Dead-Chicken."
Crabbe and Goyle let out loud, troll-like laughs.
"Wait—" Malfoy suddenly raised a hand, cutting them off.
He glanced inside with a nervous look none of them had seen before. The black-haired wizard in the compartment was reading intently. The noise had made him frown.
"Shut it," Malfoy hissed at his goons.
Crabbe and Goyle spotted who else was in the compartment and immediately fell silent.
No one who had attended the Duelling Club would ever underestimate that particular bookish wizard. Anyone who had learned the hard way.
"I heard your dad finally scraped together some gold this summer," Malfoy said in a lowered voice to Ron. "Did your mum nearly faint from shock?"
Even though he was trying to keep quiet, Ron shot to his feet in fury, knocking Crookshanks's basket onto the floor.
At that exact moment, Lupin let out a soft grunt.
"Who's that?" Malfoy asked, instinctively stepping back when he saw the professor.
"New teacher," Harry said, standing up too in case he needed to hold Ron back. "What did you just say, Malfoy?"
Malfoy's gray eyes narrowed.
He wasn't stupid enough to start trouble right in front of a teacher.
Besides, he had only come to mock them anyway. Starting a fight under that particular young wizard's nose—especially while he was reading—no Hogwarts student had the nerve for that.
"Let's go," Malfoy said lightly to Crabbe and Goyle.
The three of them disappeared down the corridor. Harry and Ron sat back down. Ron rubbed his knuckles angrily.
"I'm not putting up with Malfoy's crap this year," he growled. "I mean it. If he says one more word about my family, I'll grab him by the head and—"
Ron made a violent twisting motion in the air.
"Ron, you're a wizard—" Hermione reminded him, exasperated.
"Oh!" Ron's eyes suddenly lit up.
How could he forget? This was his second year at Hogwarts, and he hadn't spent a single day slacking off!
"I've got eight curses ready, you know…" he said excitedly—only to earn another sharp glare from Hermione, who pointed across the compartment.
Professor Lupin was awake.
"Hello," Lupin said, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. His voice was slightly hoarse. "Looks like things are quite lively in here."
"Mr. Lupin," Hermione greeted.
"Hello, Miss Granger," Lupin replied with a warm smile.
"How did you—" Hermione looked startled.
They had seen the name on his trunk, but how on earth did he know her name?
Lupin smiled again and glanced at the open book on Hermione's lap. Her name and year were neatly written on the first page.
"Ah…" Hermione's face turned pink.
"Third-years, then," Lupin continued. "Do any of you happen to know a wizard named Green?"
"What do you want with him?" Ron asked, curious but cautious.
"Seems he's quite well-known at Hogwarts too," Lupin chuckled pleasantly. "As for my reason… would saying I'm here to collect my wages count? I've been meaning to meet him in person… and collect them properly."
Hermione and Harry exchanged doubtful glances, but Ron looked thoroughly intrigued.
"He's right—"
As they spoke, the train continued speeding north. The rain grew heavier, turning the windows into a streaky gray blur that slowly faded into complete darkness.