"I have a limited capacity for dealing with crises," he said, emphasising each syllable. "I cannot at once process an attempt on Harry's life, Peter living as a rat for eight years in your bookshop, two grown men who can't be arsed to be civil to one another, and Harry's Doctor Doolittle act simultaneously without a great deal more alcohol than I currently have. Either go shout somewhere else, the both of you, or stay here and actually make yourselves useful."

I'm pretty sure that your version of Remus Lupin is my Hero For Life. Like, no joke, I'm scoping out which corner of the apartment is best to erect a small shrine in.

This story is amazing. I discovered it last night and I barely managed to snatch a couple hours of sleep since then, I've been so determined to fly through it.