It Meant Family

29th of November 1993

"but that rage your mother doesn't wear that anger. you're right this rage is the only thing i get from my father" - Rupi Kaur"

Hogwarts, Scotland

Harry fidgeted with the hem of his sleeves all the way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom after lunch. He felt bad for not warning Ron and Hermione that Snape would be teaching it again, but he hadn't been able to come up with an explanation for having that information other than the truth and he hadn't decided whether or not he would tell them that either.

To Hermione's surprise, Harry had sided with Ron and agreed they should sit in the back, instead of in their usual front row seats, so the trio settled on a few tables opposite to the windows, where it wasn't as cold. They took out their books, quills and inkwells while discussing the assignment they had due that night to Professor Sinistra, Ron, who slept through most of their Astronomy lessons had depended entirely on Harry and Hermione to finish his and virtually no idea what any of the symbols and words on his parchment meant. The discussion was abruptly interrupted as Snape walked in slamming the classroom door behind. All the students, Gryffindors and Ranveclaws alike, groaned in displeasure at the sight and made themselves immediately quiet.

"Sir," Hermione raised her hand "where's Professor Lupin?" It was the third time that term Remus had been absent for one of their classes and every time someone asked that exact same question. Snape, however, barely acknowledged her and continued to walk across the room, for a moment Harry thought he would ignore her.

"He says he is feeling too... ill to teach today, again." Snape emphasised the word ill mockingly. "Nothing... life-threatening." He lied rolling his eyes, looking as though he wished it was. He finally made it to the front of the classroom and turned around to look at the students. "Now, Professor Lupin has not.... left any record of the topics you have covered so far-"

"Please, sir," started Hermione "we've done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas and Grindylows" Harry was very doubtful Remus wouldn't have left instructions for the class, he was, and according to Sirius always had been, a very diligent note taker "and we're just about to start-"

"Quiet." Berated Snape. "I did not ask for information. I was... merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organisation." Harry rolled his eyes and caught the professor's gaze directed at him.

"He's the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had." Argued Dean Thomas boldly, redirecting Snape's attention before he had a chance to punish Harry. Murmurs of agreement flooded the class much to the professor's distaste, he looked at them more menacingly than ever.

"You are easily satisfied." He turned his scowl back to Harry. "Lupin is hardly... over-taxing you. I would expect first-years to be able to deal with Red Caps and Grindylows." He smirked.

"Is not like we've had very competent Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers the past two years." Harry said it mostly to himself, but everyone heard him and rushed to agree.

"Today," Snape ignored him, unable to disagree in spite of his desire to "we shall discuss..." he watched as the professor flicked through the textbook to the very back chapter "werewolves." He looked up, immediately meeting Harry's eyes. The boy clenched his jaw and his wrists and took a deep breath, mustering all of his self control to quiet the voice in his head and his own desire, both pushing him to pull out his wand and hex the professor in the middle of class.

"But, sir," said Hermione, revolted at the sudden change of plans "we're not supposed to look at werewolves yet, we're due to start Hinkypunks."

"Miss Granger," said Snape, condescendingly calm, "I was under the impression that I was taking this lesson, not you." Hermione was taken aback. "And I am telling you all to turn to page three hundred and ninety-four." He glanced around again and continued in a much angrier tone. "All of you! Now!"