Lupin threw himself into the chair by the side of the fire, only taking in the bare minimum of the surroundings. He was sat opposite his old head of year with a low table between them.

"No offence, but the first year Slytherins are a bunch of retards."

Minerva didn't move from behind her cup of coffee. Maybe cup was an understatement; like all members of the teaching profession over years she had become immune to the effects of caffeine and now needed copius amounts to get her fix and she was addicted to the point too little gave her shakes. It was the only way to get through the day. Maybe an intravenous drip would by a better solution.

"Never had the pleasure." She said half-heartedly as she continued to lazily flip through the issue of Witch Weekly on the table in front of her as she lent over it hands still wrapped around the cup unless one was briefly required to change page. This left Lupin to wonder how she had managed to wriggle out of that one. She was the transfiguration teacher, surely she must teach each house in each year, at least in the lower and upper school.

"Thick as shit – but they are quite entertaining" he smiled as he said that.

"Why Lupin, if I didn't know better I'd say you just complimented the Slytherins." Flitwick offered from the opposite side of the wall. He was precariously balanced on a tall three legged stool attempting to attach something to the mass of paper which constituted the staff room notice board.

"Don't tell Snape, he'd never let me live it down. Seriously though I asked them what a stunner might be used for and one person offered that it would make someone 'fit as Ronan Keating'. I wouldn't mind, but they were not joking. And trust me, after the company I kept as a teenager I can spot sarcasm at 20 paces."

"If only that spell existed in real life." Minerva dreamily said, flicking over the page of her magazine, still bent over.

"Where is our darling potions master anyway?" Lupin queried after surveying the staffroom quickly, the three of them were the only teachers about. No Sprout, Sinester, Vector, Trelawny or anyone else for that matter.

"Course - somewhere in Suffolk. You're covering his last period today, seventh year." Flitwick squeaked trying to lower himself from the high stool which wobbled precariously below him. Occasionally he made a grab for the wall, even though there was nothing to grab onto. He looked positively reviled as the chair settled down and heaved a sigh of relief, before looking around embarrassedly and decided to cut his loses; gingerly climbing down from the stool.

"As in seventh year NEWT potions?" Lupin shouted across from his saggy chair.

"That would be the one, yeah."

"Would this be a good time to mention that my highest ever mark in potions was an A and I promptly dropped it at the first possible opportunity?"

"Works set, copying from books. Trust Severus to give something stimulating. All you've got to do is sit at the front and ensure they don't blow anything up." Flitwick said with cheesy grin walking over to one of the unoccupied chairs around the table. He knew Lupin didn't want to give up that free period, he also knew the werewolf had limited choice in the matter. If Flitwick was looking after the first years he was no way going to also give up last period. That much was obvious, even to Lupin who was relatively new to the teaching scenario.

"Fantastic" Lupin deadpanned, pulling out his pack of ciggies from his pocket.

"Ah-a-a-ah" Minerva said, finally looking up from her magazine and leaning over some more to pull the fag from his hand. "Are you going to tell him or shall I?" She shouted over to Flitwick who was sat next to her on a saggy chair. He was so tiny his feet didn't touch the floor, in fact they didn't even bend and stuck out at an odd angle.

"Tell me what?" Lupin said, suddenly weary of the whole situation.

"That the castle is now a no smoking area."

"You're jesting me?" Said Lupin, grabbing his fag back from McGonagol's fingers and inserting it into his mouth. With his silver looking zippo lighter in front of it sparking as he tried to light it. He got the lighter for the wheeze. No one knew how much of werewolf folklore was genuine and how much the product of the propaganda machine. He wasn't going to reveal if he was allergic to silver or not, he'd never say what the lighter was made of. But it did seem to alleviate some of the paranoid superstition he thought people levied on him. If he held something that looked like silver he obviously wasn't a werewolf.

"No, that was always your department Remus. But seriously, it's Dumbledore's new rule"

Lupin, who always had some bizarre respect for Dumbledore put his fag back in the pack and shoved them into his robes. He knew from the start she wasn't lying. He wasn't kidding when he said he could spot sarcasm from a mile off, but he was in that stage of sweet denial where he could pretend it doesn't matter.

"No nicotine?" He said.

"My seventh years can get you some smack if you threaten them with suspension" Flitwick offered.

"A cigarette will do fine" Lupin said.

"Yes, but you'd have to inject it because smoking is banned-."

"-In the castle. I know, I know"

Suddenly his face lit up, "Smoking is banned in the castle…but the grounds are not the castle." He said with a sly grin.

"You are not seriously considering smoking in front of the pupils?" Minerva asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You'd kill if your caffeine was removed…without nicotine I am liable to kill the third years, especially if I have to tell them one more time that Punkyfish is a muggle clothes label and not a variety of hinkypoof. This is simply about saving the school from some embarrassing headlines."

"Granted, although it could be funny to see what angle Rita Skeeter takes".

"Not for me it wouldn't, thanks very much" Lupin said in tones of mock outrage.

The bell went. As a collective the teachers all exhaled. "Back to the blighters" Flitwick said jumping from the chair. Lupin seemed to sink right back into his chair before lifting himself back out, almost as if he wanted it to eat him. Minerva on the other hand downed the coffee in one and refused to take her eyes off the magazine until the very last minute.

The teachers exited the staffroom almost in single file, each clinging onto masses of work to their chests.

"See you in an hour and 40" Minerva said.

Lupin pulled out his tongue at her, a movement he would not even have contemplated as much as a month ago, "If you survive, haven't you got Harry and Malfoy now?"

Minerva gave a shudder and walked off, never replying to that comment. Everyone knew that the seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins would no doubt decapitate each other any day soon.

They just hoped it wouldn't be on their shift.

Got the inspiration for this from Teachers. Great show that.