lupercus: No subject.

First off, I don't much understand nor do I approve of this detention scheme of

potions_master's. This is not an effort on his part to spur Harry into pursusing his studies more diligently or whatever angelic behaviour he expects out of the boy. It's harassment, it's a vendetta, and it's bloody irritating to watch a grown man pick on a boy half his age over a silly grudge and foolish pride.

Get over it, already, Severus.

Sirius, can't you talk some sense into the man? For Harry's sake?

Now then, that I've gotten that out of my system.

I've neglected to mention that while on a recent excursion to London I came across a most interesting object. The shopkeeper (Muggle, as I like to on occasion peruse the oddities those endearing folk have for purchase) explained that it was called a 'punching bag,' and that one could use such an item for hitting repeatedly in an effort to either 'stay in shape,' or 'express aggression.' Intrigued, I brought it back with me and after charming it with a simple Suspension Spell in the center of my tower, I indulged myself in a short session of frantic boxing.

I've kept it up ever since, and I have to say that the results are most impressive. Afraid I may have to pick up a new bag at some point, as I keep knocking the sand out of this one, and even my best Reparo spells aren't keeping it together very well. Don't know my own strength, I suppose. At least, however, I no longer have to struggle when I lift the grindylow's tank.

Not to mention the extremely cathartic nature of - and you'll excuse my crudeness, here - beating the bloody shite out of something.

On a less violent note, I've had a note from Charlie and all is well. He apologised for the delay in correspondence; it seems his owl, Vrbanus, had met a rather unfortunate and untimely demise when it flew within range of a dragon with allergies. A pity, that. I was quite fond of that owl.

However, Charlie's note was brought to me by a most delightful little creature, something his brother Bill had sent him while on holiday in Greece. A small, mechanical owl, with all the charm and cheerful noises of a live one. The beast had no name, said Charlie, and he allowed me to bestow it one, and so in the spirit of things I named it Thetis. He's a very friendly little fellow, if a bit rusty from the dreadful rains. I shall have Mr Filch give him a good polish before sending him on his way, again, with my reply.

I'm delighted to add that Charlie will be visiting Hogwarts again for the Hallowe'en festivities. Am most certainly looking forward to that. Shall have to get to work on my costume soon, and I've promised Sirius I'd help him with his.

Off, to arrange for an Ashwinder demonstration for the fourth-years on Monday, to prepare a lesson plan for Sylvia to follow when she fills in for me during the next full moon, and to see to it that the Augurey stops moaning. It's so dreary, I'm like to fling myself out of a window at any moment, and I do not think Hagrid would appreciate the mess.

Adieu.

jadedsirius @ 2002-10-14 10:18 pm UTC

Talk some sense into him? Not my strong point, sorry, Remus.

Are you all right?

~Sirius

potions_master @ 2002-10-15 03:17 pm UTC

I was wondering how long it would take you, Lupin, to start whinging about the unfair treatment of Gryffindor, or whatever you're on about. You're practically the boy's second godfather as it is - or perhaps more appropriately, godmother?

As for "getting over it," I suggest you look back at your own near-death experiences and see how quickly they are to leave you be. What's that? Never looked down into the gaping maw of your own mortality? More's the pity, it makes for delightful afternoon tea discussion.

Bugger off, Lupin. Go play with unicorns, or whatever it is you do.

lupercus @ 2002-10-15 03:32 pm UTC

I'm impressed, Severus. You've managed to tear yourself away from your new dalliance and deign to respond to me. I'm honoured, much in the way I would be honoured if an Augurey with indegestion were to relieve himself upon my head.

The fact is, Severus, that you're a bitter old twonk who can't let go of a grudge, and is taking it out on an innocent boy. Surely you can see the complete lack of logic in your ways.

Or maybe not. Maybe you can't see past your impressive proboscis.

How do you snog Sirius with that thing, anyway? You must be bloody careful, lest he lose an eye.

Current mood:	quixotic
Current music:	"Gimme Danger," Curt Wild