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The Conference by Melvacaea [Reviews - 3]


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Just to make sure you got that, I could repeat it...but I won't.

Chapter One: The First Problem

It was very simple. She had been invited to give a conference at Hogwarts on werewolves, persuaded to go by her distant cousin and close friend, Remus Lupin. First, it was Defense Against the Dark Arts: how to defend yourself against a werewolf, how to help a werewolf, etcetera . . . this one was the two-hour long part. Then, it was Transfiguration: how to help a werewolf who can't transform back into human form and the background information on full moon nights and eclipses. The next day, Charms: how to charm a werewolf (who have rather tough minds), how to make them do anything you want (not just by using the Imperius Curse), and other little tidbits. The following Thursday, she would do Divination mixed with Astronomy: the moon's phases, the meaning of the planets and the stars, and other stupid things that she preferred not to think about now. Friday and Saturday, it would be Potions and Herbology, her most loathed subjects: the Wolfsbane Potion and the ingredients.

Mara Alexandria stared down at the schedule in front of her, a twisted look on her face. There were papers scattered everywhere across her desk and the stack of references for the Wolfsbane Potion half-covered her thin, tanned, long face. She was currently reading one of the letters from a man who had helped with the Wolfsbane Potion's creation.

Miss Alexandria:
I find it necessary to inform you that your conference on the Wolfsbane Potion will be reviewed by me. I will not tolerate any mistakes in this conference and I shall ask for your talk to be handed in to me one week before you arrive.
-S. Snape.

"Right," she said furiously. She stood up angrily, parchment clenched in her hand, and slammed open the door of her office, ignoring the stack of papers that fell ungracefully and unceremoniously to the floor. "REMUS JOHN LUPIN, GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" she yelled into the two-story house and the face of an elder man peered around the corner of the stairwell. There was a scared look in his eyes. She shoved the letter into his face. "WHAT . . . is the meaning of this?" She simmered down and turned around, furiously glaring at the wall of the kitchen.

"Ah. Severus."

"What about him?" she asked impatiently, brown hair falling from her messy bun easily.

"He's the Potions Master at Hogwarts. He takes it rather seriously."

"Bloody hell, I may hate Potions but I wasn't bad at it!" she wailed.

"He doesn't trust anyone," Remus told his cousin simply and he sat down at the table, leaning back and staring up at her.

Blue eyes glimmering angrily, she sat down in front of him and ran long fingers through her hair, finally freeing it from its bun. It fell across her shoulders and she let her head thunk onto the table.

"It's only one month till I go, Remus. It's in November and we're on the eve of October! I need more time!"

"Um . . . I suggest you don't tell him that."

She looked up at him sharply.

"He has a temper that could rival yours." He paused. "And an ego that could do that, too."

Remus then ran into his room, an angry witch hot on his heels. When the door locked in front of her, Mara scowled at the wood and stomped downstairs, feeling very childish indeed. She stared down at the letter and then, summoning writing instruments, began to write a rather nice response.


Currently, at Hogwarts, the school year had started two or three weeks ago. Currently, it was lunchtime and Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master, was scowling at his food. Really, a mere chit of a girl giving a two-day long talk on what he should be doing! And for all the other professors as well! Who did Dumbledore think he was, letting someone they'd never even met give a conference on their specialties? Of course, the rest of the staff didn't seem too bothered. In fact, Sprout had mentioned something about gathering examples of Wolfsbane Potion ingredients for her. Bah!

Then, even though it wasn't time for the mail, a graceful owl swept in and landed in front of Snape, cocking its head at him. A letter dropped from its beak and, with a sharp twitter, the white bird flew away. With one arched eyebrow at the whispering Great Hall, he opened it to find an italic script jump out at him.

Professor Snape:
I appreciate what you offer to do. My cousin has informed me that you do not like people doing your job for you, which is why I offer to let you be my co-speaker in this conference. If the other professor wish to, they may be as well. Please inform me as to your response.
-M. Alexandria

With one delicately arched eyebrow, he turned to Dumbledore next to him and opened his mouth to speak.

"I think you should, Severus."

Snape closed his mouth and frowned. The professors that M. Alexandria was covering for on werewolves leaned forward when Dumbledore crooked his finger.

"Would you be very bothered if Severus was Miss Alexandria's co-speaker? Would any of you like to join her?"

A resounding chorus of 'no!'- most heartily from the substitute Defense professor and the Charms professor - echoed across the table. Students looked up from their lunches and Dumbledore nodded.

"Well, Severus?"

He shrugged, turned the parchment around, and wrote a response.


"Am glad to see you have reason . . . will need you here earlier . . . I have arranged for your ticket on an early train . . . Fuck!" Remus, tossing things into a trunk, looked over at Mara, who threw down the response disgustedly. "I have exactly three days to look like a decent professor to this man!"

"What do you mean?"

"He called my bluff," she said morosely.

Remus kept tactful silence and kissed his cousin's cheek goodbye. She watched him go.

"See you at Hogwarts."

"Bye, Mara. My office at Hogwarts!" he yelled and in a burst of green flames, he was gone.

"What have I done?" she moaned. Then, she set about to work.

Plot bunnies don't feed themselves you know. So you do know what you have to do: review, review, review! And make them creative! And funny! And sarcastic! And constructive!

Thank you (and it's not so much as humorous as sarcastic).

The Conference by Melvacaea [Reviews - 3]


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