Back to School.
“Keep your ‘lectric eye on me, babe
Put your ray gun to my head.
Press your space face close to mine, love
Freak out in a moonage daydream, oh yeah!
Don’t fake it baby, lay the real thing on me.”
September 1st, 1993. Harry’s POV.
Harry was quiet on the carriage ride to the castle. He left the conversation to Ron and Hermione, who weren’t arguing for once, and sat back with his eyes closed. There was still a lingering feeling of nausea running through him, but it was a different kind of sickness to anything he’s ever felt before. It felt almost like his insides had been removed and put back in the wrong order.
He just hoped he wouldn’t have another Dementor encounter any time soon. Or ever again. That would be completely fine with him, too.
Their carriage was one of the last to pull up in front of the school and Harry was thankful for that until he saw Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle getting off of the one in front of theirs. He inwardly rolled his eyes at their petulant laughter that was beginning to give him a piercing headache, outwardly rolling his eyes when they spotted him and began to make their way over.
“Haven’t even gotten into the Great Hall yet and they’re already starting with their crap,” Ron said, already getting worked up.
Hermione piped up, “If you ignore them, maybe they’ll leave us alone.”
Harry snorted, “Ever heard of wishful thinking?”
As always, the irritating drawl of Malfoy’s amused voice reached them first. “You fainted, Potter? Is it true? I mean, you actually fainted?”
“Sod off, Malfoy,” Ron said through a clenched jaw.
Malfoy’s eyes darted to Ron, looking him up and down with his lip turned up in a sneer. “Did the little old Dementor frighten you too, Weasel?”
He smirked when Harry had to grab Ron’s arm when he went to lunge for Malfoy, always so easy to wind up. Harry was about to tell Malfoy to piss off when a monotonous voice sounded out.
“Is there a problem here, boys?”
Harry turned around to find Professor Lupin standing there with his arms crossed, looking wholly unimpressed. His patchy, loose-threaded suitcase was on the gravel by his feet and Malfoy stared at it with obvious distaste. His eyes travelled up Lupins tall, lanky frame and settled on his scarred face, judgment written all over his expression. “Oh, no problem here... Professor,” the tone of his words was sarcastic, mocking - plain disrespectful.
Harry felt his fists clench, feeling oddly defensive at the expense of his new professor.
The Professor just rolled his eyes, giving Malfoy an unamused raise of his brow and said, “Move along, then.”
Malfoy just smirked at his friends and they walked away snickering as if they were in on some kind of hilarious joke.
“You kids go on in, the Welcome Feast should be starting soon!” Lupin said, a smile taking over his face as he addressed Harry, Ron and Hermione. The three of them smiled politely and made their way inside.
The castle was as breath-taking as Harry remembered it. No matter how much time he’d spent in Hogwarts, Harry didn’t think he’d ever stop feeling momentarily taken by the feeling of magic surrounding him when he entered through those doors.
“I’m bloody starved, let’s get in there before Seamus takes all the Yorkshire Puddings,” Ron said, belly rumbling like he hadn’t eaten for days.
“You had two sandwiches and four Pumpkin Pasties on the train, Ron,” Harry laughed, truly envying his friends appetite.
“What can I say, Potter, a man's gotta eat!”
“Ugh, Ron. Don’t call me ‘Potter’,” Harry said, face screwed up in disdain. Hermione giggled at the boys, a beautiful wide smile on her face. He missed his friends so much over the summer. “Can we go? I’m hungry.”
“Not so fast, Potter,” came Minerva McGonagall’s stern voice, “I’m sorry to keep you, but I need to have a word with Miss Granger and yourself before the feast begins.”
Confused, the trio started to follow McGonagall to her office, but she tutted, “Not you, Mr Weasley. Your friends won’t be long, run along now.”
Ron just shrugged, telling Harry and Hermione he’d see them later and disappeared through the large oak doors that led to the Great Hall. The silence that occurred on the short walk to her office made Harry feel nervous. Surely he hadn’t done anything wrong already?
She opened the door with a quick wordless ‘Alohomora’ and ushered them inside. When they were seated, her upper lip curled in amusement. “No need to look so worried, Mr Potter. You’re in no trouble.”
Harry visibly sagged with relief. “What can we do for you, Professor?” he asked politely.
“Professor Lupin sent an owl to say that you had fallen ill on the train, Potter.”
Harry nodded his head and Hermione still had slight worry lines between her brows. “Yeah, I-” He was interrupted when the door swung open, a frazzled looking Madam Pomfrey entering. Harry felt his face heat in embarrassment. Passing out was bad enough, he didn’t want anyone to fuss over him. “I’m fine, really. I don’t need anything.”
At the sound of his voice, Pomfrey looked up and her eyes narrowed, “Oh, it’s you, Potter. I take it you’ve been putting yourself in danger again, have you?”
McGonagall’s lip twitched in disapproval, for Harry’s experience with danger or for Madam Pomfreys clear annoyance, Harry didn’t know. She tutted, “It was a Dementor, Poppy.”
“Ah,” Poppy said, shaking her head. “Keeping Dementors on school grounds... As if I don’t have enough patients as it is!” She pushed Harry’s hair away from his face and felt his forehead. She hummed and removed her hand, saying, “He’s very clammy. The effects those terrible creatures have on people who are already delicate. I’ll tell you what – he won’t be the only one that collapses because of them!”
“I’m not delicate!” Harry protested, but Madam Pomfrey who was now checking his pulse paid no mind. “And I will not be spending the night in the Infirmary, so don’t even try it.”
McGonagall turned her stern gaze upon him. “You will be doing exactly what is necessary to ensure your health, Mr Potter. If what you need is bed rest, you’ll be doing that in the Hospital Wing.”
“But I’m fine! I promise, Professor, I just want to go to dinner,” he said, not mentioning that he didn’t want to give Malfoy any more ammunition for his cruel jokes.
Madam Pomfrey put a gentle hand on Harry’s shoulder and when he turned to face her, he was surprised to see understanding in her eyes. “There is no need to stay in the Infirmary tonight, Mr Potter, but you would benefit greatly from some chocolate, alright?”
“Professor Lupin already gave me some, Ma’am.”
The second Harry mentioned Lupin, Pomfrey’s eyes lit up like lanterns. A warm smile tugged at her lips and she sighed, meeting McGonagall’s equally fond gaze. Harry thought that Pomfrey looked like a proud mother when she said, “Ah, of course he did. Finally, a Defence teacher that knows his remedies!” A chuckle that had Harry whipping his head around in shock came from McGonagall. He had never heard her laugh before. “What? It’s the truth, I’m sure you know that as well as I do, Minerva.”
“True as it is, Poppy, you’ve always had a soft spot for Mr Lupin,” McGonagall said, sounding amused.
Pomfrey rolled her eyes playfully, “Yes, well, he’s always been quite the charmer,” McGonagall nodded in agreement, “I best be off to visit him. It’s been far too long that I haven’t seen that boy!”
“He is not a boy anymore, Poppy, Mr Lupin is a full-grown man now. I had the shock of my life when I saw him!”
“Ah,” she waved dismissively, “I believe I will always see an eleven-year-old boy when I look at him.”
Madam Pomfrey told Harry to eat a square of chocolate before bed and gave him a Dreamless Sleep potion to pair with it. McGonagall dismissed Harry, telling him to exit with Madam Pomfrey and wait outside her office while she spoke to Hermione.
When the doors closed behind them, Professor Lupin walked by, but he stopped in his tracks a metre away. He turned slowly, and Harry noticed that he was favouring his left leg. Finally, he was fully turned and when he met Madam Pomfreys eye, a huge, dopey smile broke out over his face.
Harry had never seen Pomfrey show too many emotions but in that moment, all he could see was pure joy on her face. She rushed to him and threw her arms around his large frame that seemed to swallow her whole. “Remus,” Harry heard her whisper.
His arms wrapped around her comfortably. “Poppy,” he whispered in reply. “I was just on my way to visit you.”
She pulled back from the hug and pinched his cheeks, giggling at his wince. “Such a sweet boy,” she said and a blush crawled up his cheeks, “My, Mr Lupin. You’ve grown!”
“Are you ever going to call me ‘Remus’, or was it a one-time thing, just now?” he asked cheekily, rolling his eyes when she shrugged. “I haven’t grown since I was nineteen, Ma’am. I think you’ve shrunk, though.”
Harry had to stifle a laugh. How was he getting away with teasing her like that? He really must be her favourite, he thought.
“Watch that cheek, Mr Lupin. You remember that you were eighteen the last time I saw you,” Her eyes were sad when she said that, and Professor Lupin looked apologetic, tired.
“I know, I’m sorry,” he said, eyes downcast, “I couldn’t stay, not even for-”
He looked at Harry then, and Harry for some odd reason felt the need to make himself disappear. Pomfrey followed Lupins line of sight and sighed, an understanding smile forming. “It’s okay, Remus,” she whispered before looking back to Harry. “Run along to the Great Hall now, Mr Potter. I’ll tell Minerva where you’ve gone.”
When he reached the Great Hall doors, he spun around at the sound of footsteps getting closer. He drew his wand and held it out in front of him, but was quick to put it down when he saw that it was only Hermione.
He tucked his wand back in his robes and she furrowed her brows as she slowed. “What’s wrong?” she asked. Her breath was coming out short and she had a red, blotchy face from exertion.
“Nothing,” he responded, “I didn’t know it was you. Where’s McGonagall?”
They pushed through the doors and were blinded by a sea of black, red, green, blue and yellow. “She got talking to Professor Lupin and told me she trusted that I could find my own way to the Hall. They shouldn’t be too far behind, though. They’ll be at the Welcome Feast.”
They found their seats beside Ron, and just as Hermione predicted, Professor Lupin and Professor McGonagall walked through the oak doors, still deep in conversation.
“What was that about, then?” Ron asked. It didn’t escape Harry’s notice that Hermione’s eyes widened and she quickly turned to Ginny, busying herself in a conversation. What did they talk about in there?
Just when Harry began to answer, Dumbledore’s voice rang through the room. “Later,” Harry said and turned his attention to the headmaster.
“Welcome, welcome, to a brand-new year at Hogwarts. I would like to greet our newest First Year students – Hogwarts will become your home for the next seven years and we can only ask that you treat it with respect and care,” he cleared his throat and continued. “And now, I have a more serious matter that I must discuss.”
His tone was ominous and all the students sat in intrigued silence, awaiting the news. “You may be aware after the search on the Hogwarts Express that our school will be playing host to a number of the Dementors from Azkaban Prison. They are here on business for the Ministry of Magic, but I shall warn you now: Do not give them any reason to harm you. I stress that nobody is to leave the school without permission. Dementors will not be fooled by disguises, tricks, or even Invisibility Cloaks,” his eyes met Harry’s briefly, a barely there smirk on his face.
“Now, on to a happier subject!” he boomed, clapping his hands. “It is a delight to welcome two new teachers to our ranks. Firstly, Professor Lupin who has agreed to fill the Defence Against the Dark Arts position,” Lupin stood up, still favouring his left leg, and waved politely. He looked somewhat nervous, but that was easily disguised by his kind smile.
Harry noticed that Professor Snape was shooting Professor Lupin a foul look, clearly displeased with his presence. It reminded Harry of the look that Snape would give him as he spat rubbish about his father. Maybe Snape looks down on people who are happier than him, Harry thought. Smiling to himself, he clapped even harder for Lupin.
“You think Snape’s angry because he wanted Defence this year?” Came Rons hushed voice in his ear.
“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Well, yes. But there’s more to it. He’s not just jealous, he’s furious. Doesn’t it remind you of the look he gives me? Especially when my dad is brought up?”
Ron’s eyes narrowed in search of the comparison, and widened when he saw it. “You’re right. Your dad mustn’t have been Snapes only enemy back in school.”
“Thank you,” Dumbledore said, cutting Harry and Ron’s whispering short. “I’m sure you will all do your best to make Professor Lupin feel welcome and respected. Now, for our second new appointment...” he trailed off, waiting for complete silence before continuing. “Our previous Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Professor Kettleburn, has retired in hopes that he will keep his remaining limbs for the foreseeable future. I would like to introduce our very own Rubeus Hagrid, who has consented to take on this role in addition to his gamekeeping duties.”
The Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables all broke out into raucous applause for Hagrid, who shattered at least four glasses when he stood up and knocked the table with his giant (literally) frame. He had an elated smile on his face, laughing and waving off the cheering. Harry was so happy for Hagrid! He always had a strange interest in Magical Creatures, so Harry knew he would be thrilled to have this position and get to work with them every day.
Harry knew this would be a good year.
Dumbledore’s speech came to a close soon after Hagrid sat down and the Welcome Feast appeared, the sight of it making Harry’s mouth salivate profusely. They dug into their meals; appetites large – especially Ron; on his plate was: four Turkey Legs, two heaving scoops of Roast Potatoes, three Yorkshire Puddings, Crackling, Stuffing and two Sausages, everything absolutely drowned in gravy. Hermione had tried her best to convince him to have at least a scoop of the smashed parsnip, but Ron wouldn’t give in. He claimed, “It’s the Welcome Feast , Hermione, which means I don’t have to be healthy. It’s a reward! I’ll have some vege tomorrow.”
Harry explained to Ron why he was summoned to McGonagall’s office and Ron’s face turn from excited to uninterested really quickly. “That’s it?” he had said through a mouthful of potato, “Was hoping you’d been appointed Quidditch Captain or something.”
“I’m a Third Year. Why would I get Quidditch Captain?”
“Because you’re fantastic? The best Seeker the school has seen in decades?” Ron responded like it was obvious.
Harry flushed and looked down at his plate. He speared his fork into one of the carrots, pushing it around before he dropped his fork and said, “Thanks, Ron.”
When dinner was over, the three of them headed to the Gryffindor Common Room for the night. On their way there though, Harry realised he would have to send his parents an owl to let them know he was okay. Ron and Hermione offered to go with him, but he brushed them off, telling them he’d make it quick.
The owlery was deserted with it being the first day of school. Harry was thankful for that, for he near fell down the stairs on his way up, only having caught himself at the last minute. He laughed to himself, white-knuckled grip on the brick wall and climbed the last few steps.
He greeted Hedwig, giving her thorough love and way too many treats. He saw her this morning, but he always felt bad about having to keep her locked up in the owlery. She hooted at him and spread her beautiful, snowy white wings, and he gave her another treat. How could he deny her, really?
When he stepped away, Hedwig squawked in protest. Harry laughed and said, “Sorry, Hedwig. I’ve got to write to Mum and Dad, then I’ll give you one last treat. How’s that sound?” She made a noise of agreement, and Harry chuckled as he walked over to the stack of parchment in the corner.
Hi Mum and Dad,
I know that McGonagall will be writing you about this, but I thought you’d want to hear from me as well.
On the train to school, I was attacked by a Dementor. It sounds worse than it was. Really, I’m completely fine, just tired. There was a new Professor in our train carriage that saved me, and then he gave me chocolate and told me the Dementor was looking for Sirius Black.
Please don’t worry about me. I know that’s your job, but it’s not necessary right now. I’m stuffed with turkey and ready for bed! I miss you both so much already. I can’t wait to see you at Christmas. I love you always.
Your son,
Harry.
When Harry was tying the envelope to Hedwigs leg, footsteps made him pause. He looked over his shoulder and met eyes with one Draco Malfoy who wore his usual statement sneer. Surprisingly, he didn’t acknowledge Harry further than giving him a dirty look.
Malfoy looked different this year. He no longer wore his crispy slicked-back locks that were in desperate need of a good toning charm, but instead his hair was loose around his face, short but long enough to brush his eyebrows. The brassiness was gone, toned now which made it look translucent in the moonlight. He was taller, too. Slim and tall, but not awkwardly lanky like Harry himself was.
Soft. That was the only word that came to Harry’s mind in that moment. Draco Malfoy looked impossibly soft in this moment, but somehow also harsher than usual with the way the moonlight highlighted his high cheek bones and sharp jaw.
Just when Harry noticed Malfoys wind-flushed cheeks, he finally spoke. “What do you think you’re looking at, Potter?” The way it came out was almost defensive and his mean snarl was nowhere to be seen. He seemed to be less confident all alone with Harry, whereas in the past, he would jump at the opportunity to have a moment alone to throw jab after jab at him. Harry wondered if maybe the news of Sirius Black escaping Azkaban prison had put Malfoy on edge.
“Nothing special, believe me,” Harry replied easily, rolling his eyes as he finished tying the envelope. He told Hedwig who to take the letter to, ignoring Malfoy’s gasp of indignation.
Malfoy didn’t seem to have any intention to write a letter, instead just paying his beautiful Eagle Owl a visit before bed. He spared Harry a side glance when he said, “Let me ask you this then,” he snorted. “Why have you been staring since the second I walked in here?”
Harry’s face heated in embarrassment. He didn’t know what to say and Malfoy’s face grew a smirk, which annoyed Harry enough that he stuttered out, “Just taking in how awful the holidays were to you,” he knew it was a pathetic comeback, and so did Malfoy who just snorted again. “Sod off, Malfoy.”
Malfoy smiled and Harry felt frozen for a second. He’d never seen Malfoy smile without malice laced through it, but this time, it was just plain amusement, no trace of vitriol. “Er, I’m going to go to bed now.”
“Thank you for the update, Potter,” Malfoy replied. “Watch out for the Dementors on your way to Gryffindor tower,” he teased, but for some reason; it didn’t annoy Harry as much as it usually would. He found it almost funny. He rolled his eyes and flipped Malfoy the finger before turning and leaving him behind.
Sleep found Harry almost instantly that night, and he wasn’t sure it had anything to do with the Dreamless Sleep.
***
September 2nd, 1993.
At breakfast the next morning, the Great Hall was packed full and loud. From what Harry could hear, the main topic of discussion throughout all of the tables were the new cloaked figures that were ‘protecting’ the student body. Harry did his best not to scoff at the thought of the Ministry sending protection, only for Harrys first encounter to leave him feeling anything but protected.
He woke up bitter and over-tired that morning and all the talk of the Dementors put him in an even worse mood. He didn’t want to be reminded of yesterday’s events at every turn he took, but as breakfast went on, it was all he could think about. Especially when Fred and George sat down beside them and filled their plates to the brim with scrambled eggs and sausages, diving right into conversation.
“So,” Fred said through a mouthful of food, “You lot actually know what the Dementors do in Azkaban?”
“Just make sure the prisoners don’t escape, I’d expect,” Ron replied, taking Fred’s question as general wondering instead of the obvious conversation opener that it was. “Though they’ve clearly bollocksed that up, haven’t they? No one even knows how Sirius Black escaped!”
“Oh, Ronniekins,” George cooed sarcastically. “Do you really think that’s all they do?”
The twins went on a long explanation about how Dementors are basically living hoovers who suck the happiness from their prisoners, turning them into shells of themselves. The worst of them even get The Kiss performed on them, a fate worse than death. Their souls are sucked completely from their bodies, leaving them alive but just... gone.
The walk to Divination was long and tiring for Harry and Ron. Ron was grumbling on about what Fred and George had told them and how he shouldn’t have to deal with such a strenuous walk after such a baffling conversation. Harry wasn’t really speaking to him, just murmuring responses half-heartedly and humming his acknowledgement.
All honesty, Fred and George scared him. Not the twins themselves, but what they said. Were the Dementors going to suck out Harry’s soul? Is that what their endgame was? Why did they target Harry? Was there something he did to draw attention to himself? The questions in his mind were endless and so distracting that he didn’t even realise he had climbed the ladder behind Ron and entered the Divination classroom until Ron elbowed him slightly in the side and said, “Merlin, it bloody stinks in here!”
That was when Harry blinked and the smell of heavy floral perfume made him feel incredibly light-headed. The room was draped in eccentric rugs of all shapes and sizes, covering the floor, hanging on the walls, some even spelled to the ceiling. There were jewels and crystal balls on almost every flat surface, but what stood out most to Harry was the woman sat cross legged on a maroon-coloured bean bag at the front of the room, seemingly meditating and murmuring indecipherable words.
She was dressed in a long, flowy dress that had every pattern Harry had ever seen splashed all over it. The long sleeves were flared at the ends and the bangles on her arms pinged together at every movement she made. Her hair was even bigger than Hermione's, crimped and long with beads hanging from nearly every strand. She wore big purple glasses with a thicker prescription than Harry had ever seen, making her eyes look magnified and bug-like.
It was like she hadn’t even noticed the class settling into their seats until her meditation was finished. Her eyes snapped open and her hands dropped, one to her leg and the other to clutch at one of the necklaces around her throat. Her eyes closed again momentarily before she stood up from the bean bag, struggling only slightly and blinking at the students for a moment before booming, “Welcome, welcome, my students! Together, we will discover if you possess the sight-” she bumped into the desk in front of her, “to define the true meaning of Divination! I am Professor Trelawney, and now I shall ask of you to drink up the tea settled before you so we can get started on our reading of tea leaves,” Harry and Ron made eye contact and had to stifle disbelieving laughs at Trelawney’s dramatics.
Once the class had finished, Harry was in an awful mood.
Trelawney had told him that his tea leaves represented the Grim – an omen of death – and the whole class gathered around, sharing their own opinions on what they thought it looked like. Harry had gotten mad that the whole class was trying to decipher whether he really would be dying or not and ended up yelling for them piss off, which surprised everyone, even Harry himself. For the rest of the lesson, he ignored everyone and it seemed that everyone else was ignoring him, too. Everyone except Ron and Hermione, that is.
It’s just really infuriating that everyone keeps pondering his death. It’s been happening since he was a year old, so forgive him for being fed up!
When they took their seats in Transfiguration, Ron was squirming in his seat, looking a little uneasy. He turned Harry and whispered, “Harry... you haven’t actually seen a great black dog anywhere, have you?”
“I haven’t,” Harry said, but that wasn’t the truth. No, he had seen a big back dog at the Leaky Cauldron. It was probably a coincidence though, right? Right, yes. A coincidence. That’s all it was.
The class was uncharacteristically quiet during Transfiguration and even uninterested when McGonagall transformed to her Animagus form. She turned back and crossed her arms, brows furrowed. “What is the matter with you all today?”
Everyone looked at Harry and his cheeks burned. He put his head down as Hermione’s hand raised. “We’ve just had our first Divination class, Professor, and we were reading tea leaves-”
“I see,” McGonagall interrupted. “Which one of you will be dying this year?”
No one said anything, they just stared at her and hoped she’d understand. Eventually, Harry just raised his head and frowned, “Me. I’m dying this year, Professor. Are you really that surprised?”
“Ah, I should’ve known it would be you, Potter,” she said, sounding amused. “I’d like you to know, Harry, that Sybil Trelawney has predicted the death of one student each year since she has been working here. None of them have died yet-”
“I’ll probably be the one to end the tradition then,” Harry said under his breath, but McGonagall ignored him and continued.
“Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I cannot hide from you that I have much impatience with the subject. True seers are very rare,” she cut herself off. “You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don’t let you off homework today. If you die, I will not give you a detention for not handing it in,” McGonagall joked, and it did make Harry feel better.
***
Seamus came bounding into the Great Hall in the direction of Harry, Ron and Hermione with the Daily Prophet tucked under his arm. When he reached them, he slammed the paper down in front of them and pointed at it, his breathing laboured.
“He’s been sighted! Sirius Black, not too far from here,” he all but yelled, causing Harry to wince and rub his ear.
Before Harry could respond, Malfoy had approached with a malignant smile. He was without his cronies, who were still stuffing their faces at the Slytherin table. His eyes were fixed on Harry as he leaned in. “You gonna go after him, Potter?” he asked, but Harry didn’t get the chance to reply before he was speaking again. “If it was me, I would be looking for him right now.”
“What are you waffling about now, Malfoy?” Harry asked incredulously.
His eyes narrowed in confusion at Harry. “Don’t you know, Potter?”
“Know what?”
“Nothing,” he responded, his mean smile now gone and a slight furrow between his blond brows. “I’d want revenge, myself. But if you don’t know...”
“Bloody hell, Malfoy! What are you going on about!” Harry shouted, attracting the attention of everyone in the hall. Malfoy frowned, backing away, but he didn’t get far. He bumped into Professor Lupin, who had a murderous look in his eyes.
“I suggest you stop provoking the Gryffindors, Mr Malfoy, unless you want to find yourself in detention for the next two weeks,” he spoke calmly, but even Harry felt the need to shrink back at the look in Lupins eye. Malfoy looked at Harry again, a complicated look in his eye, but he ended up walking away with no argument. “I wouldn’t let him bother you, Harry. He just wants to get a rise out of you.”
“Yeah,” Harry replied, not convinced. There was something in Malfoys eyes that seemed... not right. Concerned, even. “You’re right, Professor. I know.”
After lunch, Harry and his classmates had their first Defence Against the Dark Arts class of the year. When they entered the classroom, Professor Lupin was sat behind his desk with a book open in front of him – a muggle book – and a familiar song playing softly through the room. It was Moonage Daydream by David Bowie, a muggle artist that his father absolutely loved. It made Harry smile, thinking of his dad pulling Harry and his mother around the front room, serenading them to The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars.
When Lupin noticed the class entering, he closed his book and smiled up at them. “Good morning, third years. How are we today?” he asked kindly. There were murmured responses throughout the room and Lupin clapped his hands together happily. “I’m glad to hear it. Today, we won’t be continuing lesson in this classroom. Instead, we’ll be off to the staff room. I will just ask that you show as much respect in there as you would in here.”
“Sir,” Dean piped up from the corner of the room, “you won’t be setting any pixies loose on us, will you?”
Professor Lupins brows drew together in upmost confusion at the question. He opened his mouth to reply, but could only manage to let out a “Hm?” and closed his mouth. Ron let out a snort of laughter while Neville looked warily around for any suspiciously cloaked cages. Lupin met eyes with Harry and an amused quirk of his lips twitched upwards when he caught Harry mouthing silently along to the music. Harry’s face heated and he averted his eyes, finding great interest in his shoes in that moment.
“Uh, I won’t be setting any pixies on you today. I do promise to keep your interest, however,” the Professor finally replied playfully. Harry decided he was the coolest teacher Hogwarts had ever seen. He flicked his wand effortlessly and the record stopped spinning. With the music paused, Professor Lupin said, “Shall we head out?”
It was a short walk to the staffroom but Harry found himself falling to the back of the group, walking in lone silence, content with listening to the mixed conversations between his classmates.
When he felt a presence beside him, Harry looked up to find the Professors tall frame grinning down at him. He smiled back, not knowing what to say. Something about Lupin made him feel like he needed to say the right things and act a certain way, despite the undeniable comfort he felt around the man.
Lupin’s voice was low and warm when he spoke, “I’ve got to tell you, Harry; I feel loads less ancient knowing that you know Bowie.”
His voice was playful and teasing which reminded Harry fondly of his dad. He laughed quietly, “My dad loves him. He’s always going on about his school days when we have that record on. Apparently, his best friend Moony was playing Bowie constantly in their dorm.”
Lupins face took on a warm and loving expression at that, but Harry couldn’t help but notice the expertly concealed stricken look in his eyes. He chuckled after a moment of comfortable silence, all traces of tension seeming to disappear from his body. “Sounds like Moony had a good influence on your dad.”
Harry pulled a face, “My mum says he tried, but my dad was a real troublemaker back then. He still is, actually.”
“Sometimes people need a bit of trouble. I bet your father was more of a good influence on his Moony than he even knows,” Professor Lupin looked like he really believed what he was saying and it soothed Harry in ways he could not explain. Maybe Uncle Moony would be around one day to confirm whether that was true or not, but for now; Harry believed it was.
They arrived at the staffroom and the conversation was left there. Harry thought it was a good place to leave it, a genuine smile gracing his face as he entered through the oak doors behind his classmates.
The smile fell right from his face when he saw who was in the room, though. By the looks of it, so did Nevilles, but instead of the scowl that took over Harry’s face, Neville now sported a fearful pout.
“Lupin,” Snape muttered with disdain.
Just as Professor Lupin opened his mouth to reply, Peeves floated passed the doorway and yelled, “Loony Lupin! Loony Lupin! Loony Lupin!” Professor Snape’s face sparkled with amusement; his top lip curled in a way that made Harry feel nauseous.
“Still fighting the names, are you, Lupin?” Snape provoked, and rage filled Harry’s gut. What? He doesn’t get enough satisfaction picking on the students, so he has to go for his coworkers as well?
“Ah, on the contrary, Severus,” Lupin said, tone smooth and a happy grin in place. “I never did have to defend myself against them. You of all people should know that, no? Firsthand experience with my ‘looniness’ and all.”
The self-satisfied smile was quickly erased from Snapes face and he scoffed, standing and gathering his things. “I shall be on my way now. I do not wish to witness the disaster that Mr Longbottom is sure to cause.”
Neville went crimson red, and Harry seethed. Bullying students in front of other teachers takes some nerve and Harry can’t begin to imagine where Snape borrowed the audacity.
But it didn’t seem to get a rise out of Lupin like Harry suspected it was supposed to. Instead, he brushed it off and clapped Neville lightly on the shoulder. “Suit yourself. I personally am honoured to have a Longbottom in my class. I don’t doubt that with the right amount of support, he has the potential to become a wizard as brilliant as we knew his parents to be.”
Neville lit up then, looking up to Professor Lupin with sparkling eyes. Harry has never seen him so open and happy. It’s a good look on him, Harry thought.
Snape decided to ignore them then and made his dramatic exit, robes draping behind him as the door swung shut. There was an awkward pause before Lupin clapped his hands together and faced the class with a cheeky lift of his lips.
“Anyways,” he said. “Shall I reveal what it is we’ll be doing today?”
The class broke out in different sounds of agreement, making Lupin chuckle as he walked over to the dark wardrobe in the far-left corner of the room. As if it could sense his presence, the wardrobe shook violently, causing half of the class to let out startled shrieks.
He folded his hands together, unperturbed by the haunted wardrobe beside him. “No need to look so concerned. There is a Boggart in there. Can anyone tell me what a Boggart is?”
Predictably, Hermione’s hand shot desperately into the air. The Professor nodded her to go ahead, and she took a deep breath before speaking. “A Boggart is not a specific object. It is a shapeshifter that shifts into whatever it thinks will frighten its target the most.”
“Excellent!” Professor Lupin praised, and Hermione soaked it in with glimmering eyes. “As the Boggart is contained in darkness, it has not yet taken form. When I open the door however, it will immediately become what we fear the most,” he paused, eyes searching through the crowd of students. They stopped on Harry and softened. “Harry, can you spot the advantage we have over the Boggart?”
He hesitates, feeling self-conscious about the answer on the edge of his lips. For some reason, Harry doesn’t want to disappoint his new professor. “Uh... There are a lot of people here so it won’t know which shape it should take?”
Pride is obvious on Lupin’s face after Harry’s answer. It makes Harry feel oddly proud of himself. “That’s correct, Harry. 10 points to you, and 10 to Miss Granger as well.”
The rest of the lesson flew by. Professor Lupin taught the Riddikulus charm and if Harry wasn’t convinced before that Remus Lupin would become is favourite teacher, he was absolutely positive now. The only issue... Well, not an issue per se, but something that confused Harry was that when it was his turn to perform the charm, Lupin jumped in front of him and performed it himself.
Maybe because it took the shape of a Dementor and he caught the shiver of fear that ran through Harry’s whole body?
But no. That didn’t seem right. Because Ron shook with fear at the sight of the Acromantula that appeared before him and Lupin sat back and let Ron take care of it. It was clear that Lupin was protecting Harry, but why?
Ron and Hermione told him not to worry about it, they told him that there must have been an obvious explanation for it, but for the rest of the day, Harry’s mood did not improve.
All he could think was, He doesn’t think I’m good enough.
***
September 14, 1993. – James’ POV.
When Lily got home from the markets, James had been sitting on the couch in shocked silence for over an hour. There were dried tear tracks on his cheeks and his hair was extra messy from running anxious hands through it. Lily was speaking to him the second she walked through the door, but he couldn’t reply with anything but a shaky call of her name.
Worry overtook her when she found him like that, it was clear in the way she sat beside him and cradled his face, softly asking what had happened. All he could do in that moment was open his mouth in attempt to speak, but no words came out. He shook his head and just handed her the folded-up piece of parchment.
Lily looked down at it and then back up to James. She warily took it from him, opening and reading its contents in silence. It was hard for him to keep his emotions at bay when he heard the stunned gasp leave her mouth. Her hands began to shake and her bright eyes were lined with tears. When she finished reading, she folded the letter and finally met her husband’s eyes, her face scarily blank until suddenly, she started to laugh. It was hysterical, like she didn’t know how else to react. James became unable to hold in his own laughter, giggling uncontrollably with his beautiful wife.
“James,” Lily said as her laughs began to fade out. She still had a gorgeous smile across her face and Merlin James was in love with her. “We’re going to get him back, aren’t we?”
He sighed, a bone-deep kind of happiness settling over him that he hadn’t felt in twelve years. “Yeah, Lils. We are.”
Hi Mum and Dad!
Just wanted to give you guys a little update on how my first two weeks have gone so far.
Charms and Transfiguration have so far been going pretty well, not much homework yet either so that’s been good. I’m also doing Divination and well... It’s not bad but Professor Trelawney is a bit crazy. She predicted that I’m going to die this year. Professor McGonagall said she predicts someone dying every year and no one's actually died yet, so I guess I shouldn’t be too worried. I am kind of weirded out though.
Snapes been awful as usual, but I’m less bothered with me and more frustrated with the fact that he’s become even worse with Neville this year. It’s like he takes joy in humiliating Nev and it’s pathetic. But you’ll never guess, our new Defence teacher defended him to Snapes face! He didn’t like that one bit either, just scowled and left the room.
Speaking of my new Defence teacher – he’s fantastic! Professor Lupin was the one who saved me from that Dementor on the train. Gave me a chocolate frog, too, which he seems to have an endless supply of. His classes have been great so far, the most competent DADA teacher I’ve ever had. Even Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall love him, and you both know as well as I do that they’re a tough crowd! When Pomfrey told me I need chocolate after the attack and I told her that Professor Lupin already gave me some, she literally almost melted, and then on my way out we bumped into him and he got away with teasing her! I know, outrageous, right? She must really like him if he’s allowed to do that.
He’s really nice to me and all of my classmates. He’s even a bit sassy and it’s hilarious. I really hope he doesn’t leave after the year; it would be really disappointing.
Anyway, I miss and love you lots!
H.J.P.
P.S. He likes Bowie, too! You’d love him, Dad!
“You really think so, James?” Lily asked, hope shining so brightly in her eyes, “Remus will come back to us?”
“Yeah, I really do think so. It’s a big step for him, coming back and being around the people from his past. Being around Harry. I really believe he will come back to us.”
Both Lily and James were crying then, but they were happy tears. The fucking happiest. They were going to get what they’d been so desperately wanting for so long.
They were going to get their Remus back.