Chapter 5
In no time at all, Defense Against the Dark Arts had become most people’s favorite class. Only Draco Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins had anything bad to say about Professor Lupin.
“Look at the state of his robes,” Malfoy would say in a loud whisper as Professor Lupin passed. “He dresses like our old house-elf.”
But no one else cared that Professor Lupin’s robes were patched and frayed. His next few lessons were just as interesting as the first. After boggarts, they studied Red Caps, nasty little goblinlike creatures that lurked wherever there had been bloodshed: in the dungeons of castles and the potholes of deserted battlefields, waiting to bludgeon those who had gotten lost. From Red Caps they moved on to kappas, creepy water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.
There was no more mention of boggarts. Y/n didn’t blame him—no doubt what had happened had to be reported.
Y/n only wished she was as happy with some of her other classes. Worst of all was Potions. Snape was in a particularly vindictive mood these days.
Y/n was also growing to dread the hours spent in Professor Trelawney’s stifling tower room, deciphering lopsided shapes and symbols, trying to ignore the way Professor Trelawney’s enormous eyes filled with tears every time she looked at her. She couldn’t like Professor Trelawney, even though she was treated with respect bordering on reverence by many of the class. Some students had even started using hushed voices whenever they spoke to Y/n, as though she were on her deathbed.
Nobody really liked Care of Magical Creatures, which, after the action-packed first class, had become extremely dull. Hagrid seemed to have lost his confidence. They were now spending lesson after lesson learning how to look after flobberworms, which had to be some of the most boring creatures in existence.
Y/n’s mood worsened. She’d been trying to corner Harry for weeks and every time Ron was there, pulling Harry away. It hurt, mostly because Harry didn’t seem like he was fighting back very hard. She’d talked to Hermione about it, but the girl didn’t know what to do.
“I tried to talk to them,” Hermione had said. “Really, I did.”
“And what did they say?”
“Ron….um….you actually might now want to know.”
Y/n was scowling the rest of that day.
One day in October, Y/n had had enough. After classes, she marched right up to the painting of the Fat Lady that lead to the Gryffindor common room, huffing.
“What are you doing here?” the portrait asked, frowning.
“Coming to see my brother.”
“Well, Slytherin’s aren’t allowed.”
“They are if they have the password.”
“And do you have the password?”
Y/n faltered. “Well….”
Just then, a tall ginger boy bounded up the steps. He stopped when he saw Y/n. “Oh, it’s the Heir of Slytherin!” he said cheerfully.
“Excuse me?”
“Running joke last year about Harry. S’just funny now that there actually is a Potter in Slytherin.”
Y/n fumed.
The boy laughed and gently pushed her shoulder playfully. She was surprised at the familiar gesture.
“Oh, come off it, I’m only joking. I know you’re cool, Harry told us about you before you came.”
Y/n’s frown dissipated. In fact, she found herself fighting a smile. “I suppose that makes up for it. What’s your name?”
“Awe come on, don’t you recognize me?”
“You’re one of the Weasley twins, I know that. But which one…?”
“The better looking one, of course.”
“But you’re identical.”
“And that matters because….?”
“Please stop torturing me.”
The boy laughed. “Alright fine, I’m George. Pleasure to put a face to your name.”
“Likewise,” Y/n said, smiling.
“You trying to get into the common room?” George asked.
“No, I was looking for the Quidditch Pitch.”
George grinned and rolled his eyes. “Suppose I deserve that. Here, I’ll let you in. Fortuna Major.”
The portrait swung open.
“Thanks,” Y/n said gratefully. “Where’s your other half?”
“With Lee Jordan in the Charms classroom. I just need to grab something, then I’ll be back to them. We’re doing…..er….an extracurricular project.”
Y/n raised an eyebrow.
“Can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.” George grinned mischievously, then entered the common room.
Y/n laughed and followed. When she reached the inside, George was already scaling the steps to his dorm.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were on a couch in front of the hearth, talking in hushed voices. Remembering why she was mad, she stormed up to Harry.
“How did you get in?” Ron asked, eyes narrowing.
“George. At least that Weasley is courteous of other people’s well-being.”
Ron rolled his eyes.
“Harry, we need to talk,” Y/n said.
“Well…I mean, Hermione and I were about to work on Divination homework—”
“There was no Divination homework this week. We’re talking. Now.”
Harry sighed, but got up to follow her as she exited the common room and stormed away.
“Hang on—wait, slow down—”
Y/n pushed her way into an empty classroom and whirled on Harry the moment the door shut behind him.
“I can’t believe you. I can’t believe you ignored me for a month straight!”
“To be fair, you stopped trying to talk to me after the third week.”
Y/n glared at him.
Harry sighed. “Okay. Fine. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry isn’t enough! Why did you even do it? We’re family, aren’t we? Why does it matter what house I’m in?”
“Because you’re in Slytherin!” Harry exclaimed. “Not Ravenclaw, not Hufflepuff, Slytherin! All Slytherins are bad witches and wizards!”
“First off, it’s actually ‘all bad witches and wizards are Slytherins.’ There’s a difference. Second of all, why does it matter? I’m your sister!”
“But—”
“No, there are no ‘buts!’ I left my school to be here with you, and now you don’t even have the decency to talk to me?”
“I didn’t want Ron to be uncomfortable! Slytherin’s really put him off, you know.”
Y/n stared at him. “So you chose him over me.”
“Wha—no! I didn’t! I….” Harry trailed off. Y/n could see that he had just realized that was exactly what he had done.
“I’ll talk to Ron,” Harry said quickly. “And I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
Y/n sighed. “I’m still pissed off. I hope you know that.”
“Yeah, I know,” Harry muttered, embarrassed.
A moment of silence.
“It really hurt, Harry,” Y/n said quietly. “We have to stick together. We’re family.”
Harry nodded. “I know. I was being stupid. Hermione told me as much.”
“She was right to.”
Harry looked out the window. It was getting late. “I have Quidditch training soon. But I promise I won’t ignore you anymore, okay?”
Y/n hesitated, then nodded.
Harry smiled, relieved, then turned and left.
Now Y/n could only wonder how Ron was going to react to Harry’s new decision.
***
It went poorly.
Very poorly.
Where Ron had at least sort of tried to hide his disdain for Y/n in the beginning, he was now openly cold. Each time Ron saw her in the hallway he’d glare at her.
“Don’t take it to heart,” Hermione had told Y/n. “He’s mad at me too; Crookshanks keeps trying to get after Scabbers. I’ll bet that has put him in an even worse mood than usual.”
“Yeah, but does he give you the same glare he usually reserves for Malfoy?”
Hermione had gone silent at that.
***
Halloween morning, Y/n awoke with the rest and went down to breakfast. It was supposed to be the first Hogsmeade weekend for third years, though she and Harry would be staying behind because of a lack of permission forms.
She was disappointed, of course, but maybe that was a good thing. She and Harry could spend some time together without Ron scowling at Y/n every moment he got.
Y/n found Harry in the hallway near the library.
“Hey,” he said. She could see he was much more depressed about being left behind than she was.
“Hey,” she echoed. “Come on, don’t look so down. I’m sure Ron and Hermione will bring you back loads of sweets from Honeydukes.”
Harry nodded, though he didn’t look convinced. They walked around the corner of the corridor and came face to face with Filch.
“What are you doing?” Filch snarled suspiciously.
“Nothing,” said Harry truthfully.
“Nothing!” spat Filch, his jowls quivering unpleasantly. “A likely story! Sneaking around on your own — why aren’t you in Hogsmeade buying Stink Pellets and Belch Powder and Whizzing Worms like the rest of your nasty little friends?”
Harry shrugged.
“Well, get back to your common room where you belong!” snapped Filch, and he stood glaring until Harry and Y/n had passed out of sight.
“Let’s no go back to the common room,” Harry said. “Colin Creevey is there, and I don’t want him to…I dunno. Ask me to sign his book or something.”
Y/n laughed as they rounded another corridor. They were walking along when a voice from inside one of the rooms said, “Harry? Y/n?”
They doubled back to see who had spoken and met Professor Lupin, looking around his office door.
“What are you doing?” said Lupin, though in a very different voice from Filch. “Where are Ron and Hermione? Val and Sol?”
“Hogsmeade,” said Harry, in a would-be casual voice.
“Ah,” said Lupin. He considered them for a moment. “Why don’t you two come in? I’ve just taken delivery of a grindylow for our next lesson.”
“A what?” said Harry.
They followed Lupin into his office. In the corner stood a very large tank of water. A sickly green creature with sharp little horns had its face pressed against the glass, pulling faces and flexing its long, spindly fingers.
“Water demon,” said Lupin, surveying the grindylow thoughtfully. “We shouldn’t have much difficulty with him, not after the kappas. The trick is to break his grip. You notice the abnormally long fingers? Strong, but very brittle.”
The grindylow bared its green teeth and then buried itself in a tangle of weeds in a corner.
“Cup of tea?” Lupin said, looking around for his kettle. “I was just thinking of making one.”
Harry was about to decline, but Y/n beat him to it. “Sure.”
When Lupin’s back turned, Harry gave Y/n an incredulous look.
She gave him a look that said, Knock it off.
Lupin tapped the kettle with his wand and a blast of steam issued suddenly from the spout.
“Sit down,” said Lupin, taking the lid off a dusty tin. “I’ve only got teabags, I’m afraid — but I daresay you’ve both had enough of tea leaves?”
Y/n looked at him. Lupin’s eyes were twinkling.
“How did you know about that?” Harry asked.
“Professor McGonagall told me,” said Lupin, passing Harry a chipped mug of tea. He gave one to Y/n with a half-painted doe on the side. “You’re not worried, are you?”
“No,” said Harry.
“She probably just singled both of us out because she knew we were siblings,” Y/n pointed out. “Thought it would make a good story or something.”
Harry was silent for a moment.
“Anything worrying you, Harry?” Lupin asked.
“No,” Harry said. He drank a bit of tea and watched the grindylow brandishing a fist at him. “Yes.”
He put his tea down on Lupin’s desk. “You know that day we fought the boggart?”
“Yes,” said Lupin slowly.
“Why didn’t you let me fight it?” said Harry abruptly.
Lupin raised his eyebrows. “I would have thought that was obvious, Harry,” he said, sounding surprised.
“Why?” he said again.
“Well,” said Lupin, frowning slightly, “I assumed that if the boggart faced you, it would assume the shape of Lord Voldemort.”
Lupin gave Y/n a significant look.
Harry frowned. “Wha—that was you that happened to?”
Lupin opened his mouth to interject, but Y/n beat him to it. “Yeah, that was me.”
“And you saw Voldemort?”
“Yes. Just him,” she said. She saw Lupin nod out of the corner of her eye—he wouldn’t tell Harry that he had been a part of the scene as well.
Y/n felt very appreciative of the professor at that moment.
“Well….” Harry said slowly. “I did think of Voldemort first. But then I — I remembered those dementors.”
“I see,” said Lupin thoughtfully. “Well, well . . . I’m impressed.”
He smiled slightly at the look of surprise on Harry’s face. “That suggests that what you fear most of all is — fear. Very wise, Harry.”
Harry sipped his tea.
“So you’ve been thinking that I didn’t believe you capable of fighting the boggart?” said Lupin shrewdly.
“Well . . . yeah,” said Harry. “Professor Lupin, you know the dementors —”
He was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Come in,” called Lupin.
The door opened, and in came Snape. He was carrying a goblet, which was smoking faintly, and stopped at the sight of Harry and Y/n, his black eyes narrowing.
“Ah, Severus,” said Lupin, smiling. “Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?”
Snape set down the smoking goblet, his eyes wandering between Harry, Y/n, and Lupin.
“I was just showing the Potters my grindylow,” said Lupin pleasantly, pointing at the tank.
“Fascinating,” said Snape, without looking at it. “You should drink that directly, Lupin.”
“Yes, yes, I will,” said Lupin.
“I made an entire cauldronful,” Snape continued. “If you need more.”
“I should probably take some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Severus.”
“Not at all,” said Snape, but there was a look in his eye Y/n didn’t like. He backed out of the room, unsmiling and watchful.
Y/n looked curiously at the goblet. Lupin smiled.
“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.
“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.”
Professor Lupin took another sip and Y/n had a crazy urge to knock the goblet out of his hands.
“Professor Snape’s very interested in the Dark Arts,” Harry blurted out, as if he had the same thoughts as Y/n.
“Really?” said Lupin, looking only mildly interested as he took another gulp of potion.
“Some people reckon —” Y/n hesitated, then plunged recklessly on, “some people reckon he’d do anything to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts job.”
Lupin drained the goblet and pulled a face. “Disgusting,” he said. “Well, I’d better get back to work. I’ll see you two at the feast later.”
“Right,” said Harry, putting down his empty teacup. Y/n did so as well, and saw that the empty goblet was still smoking.