Chapter 218: Suspicions
Later that evening, Dobby returned to report the results to Felix Harp.
"Harp, the woman named Skitt has agreed, and during this process, that little silvery bird on my head..."
"I understand, Dobby. This is the test I mentioned to you, and its effectiveness has surpassed my expectations."
...
As twilight fell, Felix Harp walked into the Great Hall with a cheerful mood.
"Hmm, which house's table should I choose today?" he pondered, as it was one of his pleasures to always sit at a different table during meals. "Ravenclaw, perhaps. The eagles have been quite subdued lately."
Out of the corner of his eye, Felix noticed the Slytherin players entering the hall, chatting and carrying broomsticks. He knew that Quidditch season was about to begin.
Felix aimed for a group of Ravenclaw students and prepared to sit beside them. A slightly plump boy with freckles on his face was enthusiastically discussing something.
"—I've been learning about Kappas lately, yes, those water-dwelling creatures with webbed feet, like monkeys covered in scales. Professor Lupin is quite impressive—"
Felix inadvertently glanced at the teachers' table and indeed saw a slightly weary figure.
"Professor Lupin?" Felix changed direction and sat next to the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He greeted him warmly, "Harp, Professor. Please pardon me, I'm still recovering from a cold." Lupin adjusted the scarf around his neck.
"October is indeed flu season. I remember it was the same last year," Felix smiled, adding some smoked beef and potatoes to his plate. "Madam Pomfrey has been quite busy lately."
Lupin's expression turned nostalgic, "She's indeed a responsible school nurse. When I was a student, she helped me a lot."
Felix's train of thought derailed; he thought Lupin was referring to the incident involving students from Slytherin last term, which inevitably would involve Snape. He decided not to bring it up and shifted to another topic.
"You must have received the curriculum for the dueling class, Professor Lupin?"
"Miss Granger handed it to me last week." Lupin spoke thoughtfully, "I've seen the Disarming Charm in the content, which happens to be useful against Grindylows..."
"Indeed," Felix reached for a distant dish of sauce, passing it to Lupin. "That should make my teaching easier. Oh, you're welcome." He said as their arms brushed.
Looking down, he felt that odd sensation again. Ever since their first handshake, he had noticed Lupin's hand was densely covered in hair, much thicker and harder than usual.
Lupin was completely oblivious; he continued, "Grindylows have powerful fingers, but they're fragile. The trick to getting away from them is making it impossible for them to grasp you."
"The strongest and yet the weakest?" Felix was intrigued, "This somewhat aligns with Professor Flitwick's perspective. He also believes that wizards are strongest when attacking but simultaneously expose their vulnerabilities. So, when casting spells, it's best to be fast, concise, and allow room for improvisation..."
Dumbledore trusted him, and Felix had glimpsed him in the memories of Frank and Alice. That much was certain: Lupin was almost certainly a member of the Order of the Phoenix.
However, Snape didn't hide his malice toward him. In Felix's view, the only reason Snape hadn't cast a curse was Dumbledore's presence.
Felix reviewed the records from that time. Snape had conflicts mostly with James Potter and to some extent with Black, but the number of times Lupin and Peter Pettigrew were involved in disputes was relatively few.
Was he disliking the whole package due to one bad egg?
But Snape seemed to have a favorable impression of Peter Pettigrew. At least, he referred to him as 'Peter' rather than using his surname. Knowing his own Head of House, this was already quite a rare thing.
If Lupin died, Snape wouldn't suddenly change and start calling him 'Remus'.
Felix began jotting down his suspicions about Lupin:
'Gentle personality, Snape harbors extreme hatred toward him;'
'Incredible abilities, beloved by young wizards, yet experienced poverty;'
'Physically weak, easily succumbs to a cold, do Madam Pomfrey's potions have no effect?'
'Unusual hair on his arms;'
'Abnormal aversion to Minister Fudge;'
Felix marked 'Fudge' heavily. The Minister hadn't been in office for many years, and aside from maintaining a facade, his policies could be counted on one hand, and each one could be counted without much effort.
Before long, he remembered Bill Weasley's complaints about the Ministry last year—
"Take a look at the recent newspapers! It's all about 'Lycanthropes' Blessing,' 'Werewolf Registry Amendment,' propaganda. Only registered and regulated werewolves have the right to purchase Wolfsbane Potion. The Ministry is using my potion to reclaim scattered werewolves..."
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