“Who d'you reckon he is?” Ron hissed as they sat down and slid the door shut, taking the seats farthest away from the window.
“Professor R. J. Lupin,” whispered Hermione at once.
“How d'you know that?”
“It's on his case,” she replied, pointing at the luggage rack over the man's head, where there was a small, battered case held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string. The name Professor R. J. Lupin was stamped across one corner in peeling letters.
“Wonder what he teaches?” said Ron, frowning at Professor Lupin's pallid profile.
“That's obvious,” whispered Hermione. “There's only one vacancy, isn't there? Defense Against the Dark Arts.”
Harry, Ron, and Hermione had already had two Defense Against the Dark Arts teach-ers, both of whom had lasted only one year. There were rumors that the job was jinxed.
“well, I hope he's up to it,” said Ron doubtfully. “He looks like on, good hex would fin-ish him off, doesn't he? Anyway...”
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AdmireBooks29 марта 2013
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