It is stifling today," Lavender Brown agreed diplomatically.
Ron turned to look at her. Lavender had undone a daring two buttons on her school blouse and was vigorously fanning herself with Parvati's fluorescent pink notebook.
"There are some benefits," Ron declared, staring at the tiny, yellow flower print of Lavender' s bra, which was observable through her perspiration-dampened, school blouse.
Lavender made a disgusted sound and folded her arms across her chest.
Harry and Hermione exchanged a look. It had taken Hermione a while to get used to Ron-the-sexual-being, as opposed to Ron the steadfast, dependable friend. Not that he wasn't steadfast or dependable lately, just that when the female student body was concerned - and she meant this quite literally - his attention tended to drift.
Dean Thomas was frowning up at the sky. "Looks like rain though. If Lupin doesn't hurry up, I'll wager we'll be soaked through before the end of class."
Lupin was attempting to pull open the rusted greenhouse doors. The recent damp weather had caused the wooden frame to expand and the task of getting the lot of them into the cool shelter of the disused greenhouse was proving difficult.
"It's a bit stuck," he informed, with another ineffectual tug.
Harry coughed once, and several of the Slytherin' s muttered in irritation. Remus Lupin's werewolf status may have become common knowledge since his official re-instatement as Dark Arts Defence Instructor, but as was his nature, he was reluctant to showcase any of his more eyebrow-raising abilities in front of his students.
This was despite Dean and Seamus's frequent cries of "bend this Professor!" or "how far can you hurl that?"
Hermione had only seen Remus Lupin in one direct physical confrontation since she had started with the Order, and while the sight of a full grown Death Eater being thrown, bodily, through a glass window was impressive, it wasn't something she cared to witness again.
Regardless of his otherworldly-ness, Lupin was a favourite professor, and not without good reason. He had what Dumbledore referred to as the Golden Touch when it came to instruction. Even the Slytherins managed to be somewhat respectful, a feat which only Snape had managed to achieve.
And unlike Snape, Lupin did this without the weekly threat of poisoning them just to see if they could brew passable antidotes in time.
The door finally gave way with the sound of scraping wood. Presently, Lupin wiped his damp forehead on a handkerchief and ushered the class inside.
"Right then," he gave them an apologetic look. "I know it's hot out this afternoon, but Professor Sprout recently alerted me to a problem and I knew I had to volunteer my seventh years for the task."
Lupin's hazel eyes were cheerful as they scanned the students, stopping finally at Harry, who was rocking on the balls of his feet and smiling back.
"Who are we missing?"
They were three students missing, in fact. Neville, who had accompanied Professor Sprout on a supply purchasing trip to Diagon Alley as part of his imminent apprenticeship; Vincent Crabbe, who had been pulled out of school by his parents after sitting for his one and only NEWTS exam, and Draco, who despite Hermione's profound relief at not seeing him there, had no real excuse for being absent.
"Not to worry. We should still be done within the hour." Lupin sniffed at the air. "Provided it doesn't start raining in the next five minutes"
A large wooden crate was dragged from a corner of the greenhouse, upon which Lupin sat as he consulted his notes for the class. "Here's the problem. Professor Sprout was due to take delivery of a shipment of tropical Tangleweed saplings last week. Unfortunately, the delivery bird met with an, ah...accident somewhere southeast of the castle. The packet was lost and from what we can gather, due to the recent warm weather, the Tangleweed has been growing rampant around the edge of the forest. We've already had several complaints from Hogsmeade villagers who've been stung."
"What happened to the delivery bird, sir?" Dean Thomas piped up, grinning widely.
Everyone, of course, already knew what had happened to the poor delivery macaw that had been enroute from Burma. There were few things to giggle about during the NEWTS year and the students were always eager for a bit of respite.
Hagrid had been shooting down parasitic vampire bats for the past two months in his bid to make a bat-skin cape for his paramour of two years, Olympe Maxime.
Given the size of the Beauxbatons' Headmistress, this meant a lot of