Friday 7th September 1973
By the end of his first week of third year, Remus felt like he needed another two months just to recover – and there hadn’t even been a full moon yet. He felt foolish for not considering that adding three extra subjects to his timetable would also increase his workload. But of course it did, and by the time Friday rolled around he felt weighted down by the amount of homework to be completed over the weekend.
“It’s not fair,” Peter whined, “This year was supposed to be fun, with Hogsmeade and everything.”
“We’ll still go to Hogsmeade, Peter,” James murmured over a complicated looking star chart.
“I’m with Pete,” Sirius groaned, screwing up his dream diary for Divination, “Let’s sack this off and go and use the quidditch pitch while it’s still light.”
James looked up, eagerly,
“Yeah, go on then.”
All three of them stood.
“No thanks,” Remus said, absentmindedly. He was actually quite enjoying his Transfiguration homework – an essay on bodily transformations. He was pretty good at basic modifications now, for covering up scars, and was able to answer the questions at length.
“Don’t fancy looking over my muggle studies, do you, Moony?” Sirius asked, matily. Remus raised his eyebrows.
“If I have time. James, Pete, want me to look at yours?”
“Thanks Remus!” Peter grinned, tying up his shoelaces.
“Nah,” James refused, “Thought I might ask Evans for a bit of help on it later.”
“Losing battle, mate,” Sirius counselled. “Dunno why you’re so hung up on her.”
James just shrugged, not looking at all discouraged.
Remus spent a satisfying hour or two by himself, completing the rest of his work for the week. He’d made a start on Potions, but thought it could bear leaving for a little bit longer – Peter could give him a hand in exchange for the muggle studies comprehension homework. They had double Potions on Mondays now, first thing – but thankfully no longer with the Slytherins. In fact, the only class they shared with Slytherin now was Arithmancy, and that wasn’t a practical subject, so there was much less space for open house-warfare.
Arithmancy was a real surprise to Remus – he had expected to fall behind Sirius and James, at least at first. But it appeared that this subject was down to logic, rather than magical ability, and Remus had found his first lesson to be shockingly straightforward. The homework, which he knew Sirius and James had not yet attempted, was to calculate their own heart and character numbers using the Agrippan method. This he actually found quite soothing, though he knew he would never admit it to anyone.
Herbology plodded along at its usual pace – Remus couldn’t pretend to be all that interested in it, but at least it wasn’t difficult. Astronomy was not his strongest subject either, but luckily Peter was generally so thrilled to be the only one who knew something that he gave Remus most of the answers for nothing.
Then there was his new favourite subject; Care of Magical Creatures, on Wednesdays and Thursdays. He wasn’t going to tell the others about that either – they already teased him for liking History so much, and for taking Runes. All good natured, of course – he made fun of them for doing Divination, which by the sounds of it was pretty dire.
He had read his copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them twice other the summer – it had been his favourite bedtime reading. The pictures and descriptions were so vivid they filled his dreams with the most spectacular images. There had been nothing in the set text – Remus was sure to check this – about werewolves. Fortunately, they weren’t considered in the same league as ‘magical creatures’, and it looked as though they weren’t going to be studying ‘half-humans’ until next year in Defence Against the Dark Arts.
“I hope we do unicorns,” Marlene sighed, leaning against the wall as they queued outside the classroom for their first lesson. “Something really nice, like that.”
Mary raised an eyebrow,
“I’d rather do dragons. Something a bit exciting!”
“I’m just glad we don’t have Kettleburn.” Marlene replied. This made Remus pay attention,
“Don’t we? Who’ve we got, then?”
“Weren’t you paying attention to Dumbledore at the feast?” Marlene looked at him disapprovingly. “Kettleburn’s off in Romania or Bulgaria or something, doing some work for the ministry. I dunno how useful he this, though, he’s not exactly in one piece...”
“So who’ve we got?”
“Whoever it is wasn’t at the feast,” Marlene shrugged, “But my timetable says ‘Professor L. Ferox’.”
As she said this, the classroom door opened and the fifth years ahead of them filed out, chatting animatedly. The Gryffindor third years went inside, and Remus took a desk by the window, next to Marlene. When the teacher emerged from his office, both Mary and Marlene – and, actually, every other girl in the class – sat up a little straighter.
He was a good deal younger than Kettleburn, who had been a bit grizzled, even in his middle age. Remus would have guessed this teacher to be in his early thirties. He still had all of his limbs, too, which was a definite plus. His hair was thick and sandy blond, long enough to reach hallway down his back. He wasn’t dressed in robes like most teachers, but practical, out-doorsy clothes and heavy brown leather boots. He had a slightly weather-beaten face, which served to give his strong features a kind of rugged appeal. His eyes were bright blue, and gleamed as he smiled warmly at the class,
“Good afternoon!” He boomed, in a gruff Liverpudlian accent. He clapped his large calloused hands together, “Welcome to your first year of Care of Magical Creatures. I’m Professor Ferox. You’ve all got the Scamander text, I hope?”
The class immediately pulled out their copies of Fantastic Beasts, along with parchment and quills, then looked up at him attentively. Professor Ferox continued to beam at them all.
“Excellent!” He continued, “A cracking read, as I’m sure some of you have already discovered. It gives you a nice, comprehensive guide to identifying and encountering most of the well-known magical creatures – but what it can’t give you – and what you’ll need to excel in this class – is quick thinking, cool-headedness, and nerves of steel.”
Some of the girls tittered at this, and Remus felt a flutter of excitement. See James, he thought ruefully, it’s not a girly subject. He wasn’t sure about the specifications, though. He had enough nerve, maybe – had to, after the summer he’d had – but cool-headedness was hardly one of his defining traits.
“Now,” Ferox clapped his hands together, as if eager to begin. He bent under his desk, “Look what I’ve got for you…” When he rubbed his palms the rough skin made a soft ‘shh’ sound – he obviously didn’t spend a lot of time inside, Remus thought to himself – Professor Ferox was clearly a man of action.
The teacher was now lifting a large wicker basket, setting it gently down on his desk. He opened it, and a large, furry creature stalked out. It was the biggest cat Remus had ever seen – with bushy silver fur patterned with dark spots, high pointed ears and a strange brush tail like a lion. It mewed, rather grumpily, then hopped up to sit on top of the basket so that it was almost eye level with Ferox. It glared imperiously down at the class, flicking it’s tail back and forth.
Professor Ferox stroked a long finger down the animal’s back, which it appeared to tolerate, blinking slowly.
“Can anyone tell me what sort of creature Achilles here is?”
“It’s a cat.” Mary said, bluntly, without raising her hand.
Ferox laughed cheerily,
“A common mistake, Miss…?”
“Macdonald. Mary Macdonald.”
“Miss Macdonald. No, Achilles is not a cat – though they are often interbred.”
“Ooh!” A Ravenclaw boy at the back of the room raised his hand,
“Yes, Mr…?”
“Stan Brooks, sir. Is it a kneazle, sir?”
“Five points to Ravenclaw!” Ferox nodded enthusiastically, “Achilles is a kneazle.”
Remus sighed, inwardly. He knew that – he ought to have known it, anyway, he could remember reading about the tail. Mentally he struck ‘quick thinking’ off the list of Ferox’s requirements. Hoping to show the professor that he was at least eager to learn, Remus began to take notes as Ferox spoke, still stroking Achilles absentmindedly.
“You can always identify a kneazle by its cat-like appearance, high level of intelligence, speckled fur and plumed tail,” the teacher said, indicating these features lovingly, “They are classified XXX by the ministry of magic – can anyone tell me what that means?”
Remus’s hand shot up, this time, but so did Marlene’s. Ferox picked her, asking her name as he did so.
“Marlene McKinnon,” She smiled up at him, “Sir. XXX classified creatures are not recommended for domestication, but should not prove difficult for a qualified wizard to handle.”
“Excellent. Five points to Gryffindor.” Ferox tipped his head.
Remus fumed, silently. She’d read that straight from the book. Ferox carried on, “We will be focussing on XXX classified creatures for the rest of the year. Now, while it’s true that kneazles are not recommended as pets – this is not because they are dangerous. In fact, anyone who tells you they’re dangerous has likely found themselves on the wrong side of one, and should not be trusted. Can anyone tell me why?”
Remus’s hand flew up again – it was all coming back to him now. But Ferox picked another Ravenclaw, this time.
“Because they can detect suspicious people.” Davy Kirk piped up, earning another five points for Ravenclaw.
“Absolutely.” The Professor smiled, “Kneazles are excellent judges of characters, and will react fiercely to anyone untrustworthy. As such, the ministry requires kneazle owners to hold the proper licence and have undergone certain proficiency tests. But as you can see,” he stroked Achilles once more. The silver cat had barely moved a muscle, except to survey the class, “They do make wonderful pets, as long as they are shown proper respect and care.”
“Is he yours then, professor?” Mary asked, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously, “He’s lovely.”
“He is indeed,” Ferox replied, “If you’re all careful and don’t crowd him, Achilles will probably let you stroke him. Line up, class.”
There was a general murmuring and scraping of chairs as everyone got to their feet and formed a queue. Remus made sure he was at the very back, so that maybe the lesson would end before he got to the front. Achilles was sure to hate him – werewolves were the very definition of untrustworthy.
“Approach him slowly, and don’t avoid eye contact. If he tries to go for you he’ll use his claws, so keep alert… there we go, he’ll let you stroke him now, nice and gently…”
As the queue shortened, the professor continued talking, giving them encouragement and interesting facts, interwoven with his own anecdotes. Remus didn’t know what Ferox had done before becoming a teacher, but he’d certainly had some adventures – travelled everywhere, it sounded like.
Finally, Remus was at the front of the queue. He felt frozen to the spot, looking at the yellow eyed animal nervously,
“Come on then – what was your name?” Professor Ferox beckoned him forward. Remus didn’t move.
“Remus Lupin. I’m not… um… cats don’t tend to like me.” He mumbled.
“Achilles is not a cat.” The teacher said, still smiling. “Come on Lupin, up you come.”
Remus sighed heavily and approached. He didn’t want someone as cool as Ferox to think he was a wuss. Achilles watched him walk forward. It did look very intelligent, there was something in the eyes, even though it had a very ugly snubbed nose. He reached his hand out, allowing the kneazle to sniff at him. Its claws weren’t out, but Remus was willing to bet they were very long and very sharp. He’d been scratched by cats before and had never really liked them. “Very good,” Professor Ferox was saying, “Now, a bit closer and give him a stroke, go on.”
Swallowing hard, Remus obeyed, ready to jump back if he had to. But Achilles did not need to mind that he was a werewolf. Instead, he actually began to purr as Remus rubbed him tentatively behind the ear, closing its eyes and looking completely docile. “There we are!” Professor Ferox cheered, delighted, “Excellent judges of character, kneazles. Now, we haven’t long left, so if you’ll all just make a note of the homework…”   
Remus stroked Achilles for a little bit longer. The creature seemed to be enjoying it so much that he felt bad for stopping.
“That was good, wasn’t it?” Marlene chatted, as they left their first lesson, “I hope he always brings things in for us to look at.”
“Not going to be very practical when we get to the XXXXX creatures.” Remus said.
“Maybe he’ll bring Achilles in again, though,” Marlene replied, hopefully.
“Who cares about his cat!” Mary nudged her, “He’s bloody gorgeous.”
“Yeah,” Marlene giggled, “I wonder if he’s single?”
Remus sighed, and began to lag behind the girls. They were a nightmare when they got onto the topic of boys, and it was best to stay out of their way before they started waxing lyrical about James and Sirius. He began to daydream as they meandered in the direction of the great hall for lunch.
It had been a better lesson than he’d expected, and even though Ferox hadn’t given him any house points, he had essentially said that Remus had a trustworthy character. No one had ever said anything like that before, and it made him feel unusually pleased with himself, a peaceful feeling that carried on through lunch, into their Potions lesson later that day, and was still going strong that night as he drifted off to sleep. He dreamed of lions.