The chain's too tight
The beast won't go to sleep
I've been running through these promises to you
That I made and I could not keep
Ah, but a man never got a woman back
Not by begging on his knees
Friday, May 4 • Evening
Before he'd popped down to Glen Hollow after his final afternoon class to pick up a very necessary component to tonight's plans, Lupin had asked one of the house-elves to tidy his quarters for a private dinner for himself and Professor Sinistra.
In retrospect, the need to repeat himself that while yes, it was a special occasion but no, it wasn't a secret from Izabel and the elf didn't need to worry about that should have tipped Remus off; he returned to a set of rooms transformed.
Instead of the comfortable mix of old books and scrolls, occasional DADA object and, a recent addition, samples of paint colors and cottage plans — his quarters could now be photographed for Witch Weekly.
Remus whistled lowly and inspected the table that had been set up in the main room. Impeccable white tablecloth he was nearly afraid to touch, sparkling tableware, crystal candlesticks he didn't remember having seen in the castle's collection before, but then who knew with house-elves.
He walked into the bedroom, and his amazement turned into laughter; there were even mints on the pillows. The elves had apparently done their able best to change his humble quarters into a high-end hotel suite.
It was more than Remus had requested, but he knew better than to argue with the results.