Even, Lupin's normality seemed a bit abnormal.
Infusing fun into education, practical lessons, a gentle and urbane demeanor, and hardly any homework—within just half a week, the name of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had spread throughout the entire school, and every student who attended the Defense Against the Dark Arts class was full of praise for Lupin, making Harry's heart itch with curiosity—
For no other reason than that, after two years of torment, he really wanted to know what the "normal Defense Against the Dark Arts class" that the senior students talked about was like.
"Hey, Harry, look—"
And beside him, Ron's attention was obviously more focused on another professor. He pretended to be poking at the stew in his bowl while straining to look at the black-robed figure sitting at the professors' table, "Snape's face looks even worse than when he looks at Neville's cauldron!"
Upon hearing this, Harry also looked up and made no attempt to hide it, thinking it best to glare back if seen—after all, even if he was caught, it would just mean getting into trouble in the Potions Class later… huh, is he afraid of that?
As if not looking would prevent being targeted.
This time, however, Snape did not notice Harry's gaze as usual and kept staring in a gloomy direction instead—Harry followed his gaze, which landed right on Professor Lupin, who was happily chatting with Professor McGonagall.
That look of hatred was something Harry was all too familiar with.
The two of them… what exactly is their relationship?
Nibbling his chopsticks, Harry pondered with some confusion, and from the other side of the Gryffindor Long Table came Fred's voice, "The old bat spirit is probably annoyed at Uncle Lupin. After all, not only did he take the position that Snape longed for, but he's also doing such a great job!"
George nodded in agreement next to him, and after experiencing the Defense Against the Dark Arts class that morning, the two of them had become fervent admirers of Professor Lupin, even being the origin of the word-of-mouth—
For no other reason than that, Lupin's teaching methods suited them perfectly, and besides, they knew his little secret...
But Harry, contrary to his usual behavior, did not nod in agreement with this belittling of Snape and instead instinctively looked at the four red-haired heads sitting in a row beside him. After a moment's thought, he leaned in close to Ron and whispered—
"Hey—how much do you know about Professor Lupin and Snape's relationship? I remember you called him uncle?"
Harry remembered clearly that when they barged into that train compartment, Ron's spontaneous call was "Uncle Lupin," indicating they should be quite familiar. If he knew something about the other party, maybe he could guess the reason behind Snape's hostile attitude towards Lupin...
Perhaps, it's similar to the reason Snape targets me?
This guess invigorated Harry, and he stared at Ron, eager to obtain some useful answers from him.
But Ron was sure to disappoint him—the boy furrowed his brow, seemingly deep in thought, then shook his head, "No, I don't know; I just know he knows Mom and Dad, and they are quite familiar. We ran into him in Egypt, at that time—"
Ron stopped, shook his head again, and apologized, "Sorry, Harry, I promised Mom and Dad not to reveal the professor's secrets."
Then you shouldn't have said anything!
Clearly, just as his curiosity was piqued, it was abruptly stopped, leaving Harry feeling a bit stifled, but he didn't know what to say. He could only sigh helplessly, planning to inquire elsewhere himself… maybe he could ask William?
After all, he seemed to be very familiar with Lupin.
And everyone in the school knew that William didn't get along with Snape.
"Alright, there's no use dwelling on this, Harry, have you finished eating—perhaps we should head back to the common room for an intense game of Wizard Chess. Just yesterday, I developed a brand-new strategy; you have to see it—"
"Uh, I'd love to join you, Ron… but we have to go to William's tonight."
Harry, returning to his senses, scratched his head and said with some helplessness.
"…You guys?"
"Yes, and me,"
Hermione nodded and joined the conversation from the other side without even looking up. Even during dinner, she held a gigantic thick book, flipping through it page by page, her eyes glued to it, "We go every Monday and Wednesday… likely on Fridays too?"
"No, William mentioned having other plans for Friday—"
"Probably the Duel Club? He seems to want to raise the entry threshold—I think that's better. The progress was too slow before, and after a whole semester, we only learned five charms!"
The two conversed back and forth, and Ron, caught in the middle, opened his mouth but didn't know what to say. He nodded somewhat gloomily, "Alright, looks like Seamus will lose the other half of the chess set to me tonight."
The boy grinned, pretending to be light-hearted.
After dinner, Harry didn't even return to the common room. He was dragged by Hermione from the fourth floor onto another staircase—
"Wait, aren't you…"
Harry looked back in confusion; he recalled clearly that Hermione hadn't finished eating, nor had she asked him to wait, so Harry was about to return to the common room to check out Ron's new tactic, only to be caught by Hermione coming down the staircase—