As it was nearly two weeks into the new term, naturally Remus had some grading to do. It was, perhaps, his least favorite part of teaching, though he did quite enjoy the rare moments when he got an essay to read that was actually interesting and well-written. It almost made up for all the rest that felt like they were determined to sap his will to live.

This particular Saturday found him at a corner booth in the cafe he lived above, with a stack of essays to one side and a cup of coffee to the other, frowning thoughtfully down at the paper in front of him and making occasion remarks, both written and verbal, as he read through it.

"Not quite," he muttered to himself, "but you're nearly there..."