Changes

Written for my Remus

It was no secret that the staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were - to put no finer point on it - gossips. They talked and they chattered about what was happening around them - with the elves, with the students, even with each other. This was mainly because the staff was comprised of women, and women always liked to discuss what was happening.

The topic of this week's conversation was not uncommon in subject, but it was uncommon in precisely what they were talking about.

"Don't you think he looks…different?" Poppy Pomfrey had found this baffling her for some time now. She could not quite put her finger on what was different - but there it was, still irritating her, at the back of her mind, whispering to her. He looked…different. His face was slightly changed, his stride considerably longer, his shoulders less erect and strict. Almost as if he was more relaxed. As if something had calmed him down.

"I'm sure he's changed his robes." Pomona Sprout prided herself in being interested in fashion. She was always up to date with the latest trends, reading the Wizarding Fashion magazines weekly. She analysed the clothes of her colleagues and generally considered them an unfashionable bunch of women, in the nicest possible way. The men were just as bad - Albus liked to blind others with his array of clashing colours, and Filius liked to make up for his height inadequacies with the expenses of his suits. But this was different. For a start, his shirt was white - instead of grey - and his robes seem to hang differently. A much more complimentary cut, which did not leave much to the imagination. It was just so…unlike…him.

"That's nothing. I think he's washed his hair." Rolanda Hooch was especially fond of her own hair. It had taken many years to find a style that summarised her hawklike nature and compliment her brilliant yellow eyes. She had a habit of looking at other peoples' styles - despite how peculiar some people found this. She knew how to encourage hair to shine and fall a particular way, she knew how to enhance colour and to diminish shade, and was forever advising Minerva on how to hide grey hairs - much to the Deputy Headmistress' chagrin. And his hair looked different. No more styled than normal - she was sure he simply combed it once, probably when shaving - but this time, it seemed as though he had actually washed it with some sort of potion product. Which was ironic, she supposed.

"Might I ask what you vultures are gossiping about today?" Minerva McGonagall had joined her female counterparts on the balcony in Entrance Hall, looking down at the grand room and the students milling across the marble floor. "Or should I not ask?"

Rolanda answered her, "Oh, come, Minerva - you've seen it too. You can't pretend you haven't. Look at him." She gestured to the man of their conversation, sat reading a book in a corner of the Entrance Hall, hardly interested in the students milling around. "Not only is he reading Shakespeare's greatest love story, he looks different."

"He is always reading, Rolanda." She pointed out, only to find Poppy interrupting, "No, no. He has also washed his hair. Can you see? It's picked up a little more shine than normal." Poppy pointed as discreetly as she could, and Minerva leaned forward. "That could just be the light, Poppy." She looked to Pomona, "Anything else to add?"

"Yes. His robes are different. Not only are they cut differently, they also have a hint of green running through them. It's a white shirt, a waistcoat, and his normal cloak. It's different. The thing we are trying to solve is why."

Now that she looked at him properly with these suspicions in her mind, she could see their point. He did seem different - there was very little difference in the points in her red hourglass, and she had not seen Harry Potter with a detention slip for at least two weeks. The Slytherin students seemed rather distressed with this changes, the Ravenclaws relieved, and the Hufflepuffs less terrified to enter the dungeons.

They were joined by the first male part of their gathering. Albus looked to see what they were staring at. "Hello dears. Why are we stood, watching our resident dungeon dweller reading? Does he know we are here?"

"Most likely." Minerva answered, "But he doesn't care." The women turned on the Headmaster. "You must know." Rolanda challenged. "You and he are close. You must know what has changed in his life so recently?"

Albus raised a bushy eyebrow, "I could not possibly pretend to know what you are talking about, my dears."

Minerva shook her head, "No. You know something. Why has he changed his robes and washed his hair and is reading poetry? Why is he acting differently?"

"I have simply no idea." Albus replied calmly, "All I know is that he is reading Romeo and Juliet, a story about love crossing all obstacles. Aside from that, I could not possibly know. Now, don't you all have lessons to teach?"

As they shuffled away, still muttering, Albus leant on the marble ledge and watched the door to the Great Hall open and a figure sweep into the entrance plaza. He propped his head up on both his hands, leaning to watch as his Potions Master, sat reading his Shakespeare, noticed the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher opposite him. And there was the smallest of smiles there as their eyes met, for a second and nothing more. He knew he should not be intruding - that this was a private moment for them both - that no one else could see - but he could not react. He had to smile. Because he had never seen Severus quite so content. Because he had never seen Remus so happy in himself.

And because he had never expected them to find each other in such a way.