Kiss the Teacher || Remus Lupin x Reader

2

The next day is the first day of classes, and you're beyond nervous, even though you don't have much to do yet. For now, Snape told you that you're just going to be observing for the most part, occasionally helping students, and helping him grade papers. But still, you know Snape's reputation, so you're determined to make Potions at least a little more enjoyable for the students. You really want them to like you.

The morning goes relatively well after doing your best to ease the terror of the first years due to Snape snapping at them, and soon enough, it's time for the third years, which is Harry Potter's year.

You have heard a lot about the Potter boy over the years, but never from anyone who had gotten close to him. As the two of you are preparing for class, you decide to ask Snape.

"So," you speak up as you walk around the room, setting up the cauldrons so that the kids will have all their supplies ready at their tables. Snape sits at his desk, hunched over some papers. He looks up slowly when you speak, a single eyebrow quirking up, as if to say: Get on with it.

"Harry Potter. He's in next, isn't he? What's he like?"

Snape's eyebrows furrow and he looks back down, his curtain of black hair falling over his face, so that you can't read his expression anymore.

"Potter is absolutely nothing special. He is far too arrogant, strutting around here as if he owns the place," he mutters, his tone icy.

You're taken aback by his reaction. Of course, you know that Snape is never too particularly fond of anyone - especially his students - yet, there's something different about his tone when he talks about Harry. You can't help but think back to his reaction to Remus, and while there's no doubt that they have some sort of history, Harry's merely a child. What could he possibly have done?

You drop the subject, finishing setting up in silence, your mind now back to Remus. You'd only seen him this morning on breakfast, where he cheerily wished you good luck for your first day of classes. Maybe you'll take him up on his offer and stop by his office sometime after dinner, where hopefully, you can start getting to know him better past just small talk at meals.

You make your way up to the front of the room, to your seat by the wall, as you hear the door open, the third years beginning to file into the room. You keep your eyes peeled, and sure enough, there he is: Harry Potter, with the lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead, nearly covered by his shaggy brown hair. Flanking him are a tall, skinny red-haired boy (who, without a doubt in your mind, is one of the Weasleys - Ron, you think), and a small, bushy-haired girl with her textbooks clutched close to her chest, as if she's worried that someone will try and steal them away.

Your gaze is drawn to a few other students, such as a timid-looking, round-faced boy, who looks almost terrified to be in this class. He looks your direction and you offer him a gentle smile, hoping to ease his nerves a bit. You have a feeling that Snape is especially hard on him.

The last student to make his way through the door is a tall, blonde-haired boy in Slytherin robes, with his arm in a sling. He walks across the classroom, chin up, and settles into a seat next to a Slytherin girl with short, black hair, who immediately turns to him and starts whispering.

Snape begins speaking in his low drawl, briefly introducing you before explaining to the class that they'll be working on a Shrinking Solution.

"Excuse me, Professor," the blonde boy says, loudly, raising his non-injured hand high in the air, "As you can see, I was severely injured, and I'm afraid that I won't be able to do my classwork."

"Yes, I am aware, Mr. Malfoy," Snape sneers, and you immediately know the name. Draco Malfoy. Of course. You watch Snape's eyes scan the room, and they fall on Harry and Ron.

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley will be more than happy to assist you," Snape continues, and judging by the disgust on all three boys' faces, you know that Snape did that just to spite them, which is to be expected of him.

The class dives into their work, and Snape turns and nods at you, so you begin strolling around the room, peering over shoulders into cauldrons and murmuring words of encouragement.

"This is looking excellent," you say as you lean over the bushy-haired girl, "Miss...?"

"Granger," she finishes, smiling over her shoulder at you briefly, "Hermione Granger. And thank you."

Hermione Granger. You'll keep that name in mind.

You hear Snape's frustrated voice coming from across the room, so you turn your attention to what's happening over there. He's speaking to the boy you noticed earlier - who Snape is addressing as Longbottom - and he appears even more terrified than he did earlier. You make your way over, hoping you can defuse the situation somehow.

"Is there a problem?" you ask, as politely as possible, gazing at Snape expectantly.

"Mr. Longbottom here is not even trying to make the solution correctly, so I suggested that he do it right as he will be feeding it to his toad afterwards as a test. Do not help him, Miss Y/L/N," he snaps, walking away with a swish of his robe.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you turn to the Longbottom boy, who looks like he wants to burst into tears. You offer him a small smile as you lean down to talk to him quietly.

"He's a lot of talk, trust me," you say, "Now, what's your name?"

"Neville," the boy whispers, almost inaudibly.

"Alright, Neville, let's start back at step one..."

You can feel Snape's glare burning into you as you walk him through step-by-step, the two of you producing a nearly perfect potion. You know he's going to tear into you after class, probably saying something about your disobedience, but you could care less. You're here to help teach, not to help terrify children.

Remus is going to get an earful of this later when you visit him, that's for sure. Maybe he has some stories of his own.

Sure enough, after class is dismissed, Snape turns to you, the same glare twisting his features.

"Do you not understand to not do something when I tell you not to do something? Or are you dull?"

"He needed to be helped," you retort, "not threatened, Severus. And clearly, I'm not dull, considering with my help, he made it perfectly."

Snape sneers, turning away, clearly not wanting to argue with you right now, and at that, you feel a bit of pride in yourself. Shortly after cleaning up the classroom, you follow him out in silence, to the staffroom, considering the two of you don't have any more classes for today. You're surprised to see as you walk in that there's a class, led by none other than Remus.

Your heart flutters at the sight of him, and it does a full somersault in your chest as he catches your eye, smiling at you. You smile back.

"Lupin," Snape says, venom dripping from his tone, "What a wonderful surprise."

"Likewise, Severus," Remus replies, matching Snape's sarcasm, but it's masked behind his pleasant tone. You bite down on your lip to hold back your smile.

You eye the wardrobe behind Remus, which is shaking from whatever's inside. You wonder what he has planned for his class.

"Well," Snape says, "considering what happened last period, I feel obligated to warn you of Mr. Longbottom's performance. I would not trust anything to that boy."

Something flashes briefly across Remus's face, but you can't read him.

"I appreciate the concern, Severus, but I'm very sure that we won't have any trouble. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a class to start."

Snape turns away, the same disgust and anger on his face as yesterday when Remus first arrived. You know now that you must to get to the bottom of whatever this feud is between them.

You smile slightly at Remus and offer him a small wave as you follow Severus out of the room. As you pull the door closed behind you, you hear Remus's voice: "Alright, can anyone guess what's in this wardrobe?"

As you make your way down the hall, you think about the alone time that you're hopefully going to be able to get with Remus later on this evening, and you can't wait to get to know him better.