I like to think that Hermione wasn’t the only one to figure out that Prof. Lupin was a werewolf. I mean, even if Snape assigned that essay to just their class, I can’t really believe that nobody else put the clues together.
Specifically, I like to think that there was some upper year who figured it out because they paid really close attention in class. Like, not just “I have OWLs this year and I need to get good grades” close attention, but “Prof. Lupin is so nice and so funny and he has such a nice smile, and wow, I am really gay” close attention.
Let’s all be real, here, Remus Lupin probably holds the all-time Hogwarts record for “Most embarrassing adolescent daydreams and adolescent sexual/romantic awakenings caused”. There was a lot of math being done about age differences by students, but to no avail, because Remus was entirely oblivious to everything, because they’re all children.
That student just wanted to ask some questions about the latest assignment, is obviously genuinely interested in the subject matter, and all that lashes-fluttering was them probably just having something in their eye. He asked and they said so. (And then they promptly turned bright red and screamed pure embarrassment into a couch cushion later when their friend asked how it went. “HE THOUGHT I HAD SOMETHING IN MY EYE, SAM.”)
The result of this student figuring out Prof. Lupin was a werewolf did not result in a panic about their teacher being a werewolf, though. At least, not the sort of panic that Snape might have expected.
“I read that the transformation is really painful, that’s so awful,” says Oliver Beamish, doodling hearts on his Defense essay again. “Do you think he’s okay? He always looks so sick. I mean, he’s so handsome, but he looks ill. I want to smother him and feed him soup, is that weird?”
“Yes, Beamish, that’s really quite queer,” Linda Peakes says, even though she knows that he isn’t actually listening. Replying makes her feel better, though, for having to sit through this and having Oliver Lupin written over every bit of spare parchment that comes into proximity of her friend.
“Is he eating alright? I read that werewolves should eat more before a full moon to help with how exhausting the transformation is - and there was something about filling the bloody and animalistic hunger, but that sounded like bullshit. Do you think he’s getting enough sleep? He should get more sleep; if full moons are really so awful, he definitely needs it. I don’t know if I could take that, though, since he already looks so handsome with rings under his eyes. I want him happy, but I’m not sure I could cope.”
“I already can’t cope; you’ve become a lunatic,” says Linda, weighing the benefits between having a competent Defense teacher and having to listen to Beamish wonder about how to care for his imaginary werewolf boyfriend.
She is a master of humor.
Sadly, she has plans for her school path and career track, so the competent teacher side wins. Also, Hufflepuff House took a poll and he’s been rated the nicest and most well-liked teacher after Sprout and Flitwick; she’s pretty sure most of their house would cry if he left, and a heartbroken Beamish might be worse than a mooning one. She’s not willing to risk it.
Heh, mooning. She’ll have to remember that one too.
(She begins plotting the death of Severus Snape when Remus Lupin is fired. She has plans, damn it. Also, so many puns ruined.)
