"Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me," he said. "I have never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex." He picked up the goblet and sniffed it. "Pity sugar makes it useless," he added, taking a sip and shuddering.

Amelia stared at the goblet of the potion. It was a deep purple as bubbles made their way to the top and burst, releasing a pungent-smelling smock. Though it looked like it was scalding, the fog on the inside of the glass proved that it was freezing.

Amelia knew of many potions that were purple and just as many were thick. Only thirty-five potions bubbled like that and only ten were cold and three smoked. But only one became inactive when mixed with sugar. If only she could remember what it was.

"Why — ?" Harry began. Lupin looked at him and answered the unfinished question.

"I've been feeling a bit off-color," he said. "This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren't many wizards who are up to making it."

Amelia frowned sipping her tea. At her old school one of her favorite teachers had fallen ill it was later found out he had cancer. He had passed away shortly after. She hoped Professor Lupin wasn't sick with that horrible disease.

Professor Lupin took another sip and Harry had a crazy urge to knock the goblet out of his hands.

"Professor Snape's very interested in the Dark Arts," he blurted out.

"Really?" said Lupin, looking only mildly interested as he took another gulp of potion.

"Some people reckon —" Harry hesitated, then plunged recklessly on, "some people reckon he'd do anything to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts job."