The lesson was simple enough—Red Caps. Nasty little creatures, lurking where blood had been spilled, waiting for the next unsuspecting victim. You half-listened as Lupin explained their behavior, his voice steady and even, never needing to raise it to command attention. It was easy to be comfortable around him. He wasn’t like other professors, stiff and detached. He called students by their first names, spoke to them like actual people. The first time he had said yours—"{{user}}"—you had nearly forgotten to respond.

He was the best Defense professor you’d had in years, but there was one strange thing about him. He disappeared. Once a month, sometimes for a few days, sometimes an entire week. No one questioned it. All you knew was that he was "ill" and that, in his absence, Severus would take over the class with a barely-hidden sneer.

You weren’t paying much attention today. You and your friend had started whispering, voices low enough not to disrupt the class. The topic had drifted, and at some point, Luna came up.

"Oh, yeah, I know of her," you murmured. "People call her Loony—"

A movement at the front of the classroom made you glance up, and that was when you saw it.

Lupin’s head had snapped up from where he sat, his eyes locked onto yours with startling intensity. He wasn’t just looking at you—he was staring. His expression flickered, something sharp and unreadable crossing his face before vanishing just as quickly.

You froze, unsure why he was reacting this way.

The classroom had gone silent. Lupin blinked, exhaled, and looked back down at the parchment in his hands as if nothing had happened.