Mildew Floweret

Spring arrived in a burst of color and warmth, bringing with it the pressure of looming exams. For Lucille, this meant finally mastering the Patronus charm, a crucial part of her Defense Against the Dark Arts exam, taught by her own father, Remus. Despite the importance of the task, Lucille's heart wasn't in it. She managed to pass with the minimum required score, but her lack of enthusiasm for school was apparent.

What stung more than her mediocre performance was the fact that the Weasley Twins had given the Marauder's Map to Harry Potter. Lucille felt a pang of jealousy—Harry already had the Invisibility Cloak, and now he had the map too. It seemed unfair that he had all these tools at his disposal.

"Why d’you give it to him for?" Lucille asked Fred and George one afternoon, unable to hide her irritation.

Fred grinned mischievously. "Come on, Lucy. It'll be more fun this way. More adrenaline."

"Yeah," George chimed in. "Where's the thrill if you have all the shortcuts?"

Lucille huffed but couldn't help a small smile. The twins always had a way of making even the most annoying situations seem exciting. Though she was envious of Harry's new advantage, she knew they'd find a way to keep things interesting. With or without the map, she was determined to make the most of the rest of the year, even if it meant doing things the hard way.

One warm evening, Lucille decided to visit her father before the full moon. She made her way to his office, a place that always felt like a safe haven amidst the chaos of Hogwarts. As she entered, she noticed the Marauder's Map laid out on his desk, open and unattended. It didn't surprise her that Harry Potter had managed to get it confiscated already.

A pile of fifth years’ test form the office desk had caught her eye. Already graded. Lucille looked around before searching through them out of curiousity. The Weasley twins had received an Acceptable – they had stopped pulling pranks during OWLs season, to study. Seriously, who would do such boring stuff? she asked herslef. After Angelina Johnson’s Outstanding, there was Marcus Flint’s test – a very wicked Slytherin – who had received a Troll. Ha!

Several knocks at the door made her jump. ‟Y-yes?” she quicly took a seat.

‟Why shall I have to remind you of the potion, Lupin?” Severus Snape strutted inside, narrowing his eyes at her sight. The disgustingly green potion he had brought had a strong scent of something unimaginably horrible. ‟Where is he?”

His previous actions of sabotaging Remus caused her to loathe him even more, so that she could not find a last drop of respect for him. She did not take her eyes off the office desk. ‟Around. Leave the potion, I’ll let him know.”

He was particulary silent. ‟He should know better to return soonly. Remind him that it is our lives that he puts in danger.”

After several moments, he shut the door. Lucille exhaled deeply. She approached the ill-smelling potion – it looked worse than troll sweat.

Just then, she glanced at the empty desk, the one by the window. Her stomach dropped. It was empty.

The Marauders Map was under the possession of bloody Severus Snape.

‟Now, why am I so stupid?”

She sprinted out the office and in full speed down the stairs, in the hope of seeing the long black cape of Snape’s. And she did catch a good glimpse of it. But someone had cut her way...

‟OOOoooh, slow down, Lucifer!” he cackled, ‟Or else the staff just miiight see ya runnin’ down the halls. They will not be so cheerful about it.”

‟PEEVES!” she was out of breath, holding on her knees, ‟Have – you – seen – Snape?”

‟Hmmmm... I miiiighttt! But wait! Are you stalking Professor Snape?” he pulled a bunch of apples out of his pocket to juggle with.

‟NO, I just – damn it, Peeves! You don’t fancy him either, do you? Now, if I won’t stop him, he’ll become a nightmare!”

Peeves the Plotergeist started floating around Lucille, ‟Are you proposing an alliance between us? In the absence of the Weasleys?”

‟Well...” she shrugged.

‟Hmmm... absolutely not!” he howlered, ‟Peeves does not ally! Ha-ha-haaa! Fooled ya!”

Under the rain of apples he was throwing at Lucille, she saw Snape rushing out the courtyard through one window. As if it were a Quidditch game and the apples were buldgers, she tried her best to avoid them, ocasionally bumping into other students. Peeves then lost trac k of her through a pile of sixth years.

The wind was blowing harshly at twilight, and she was curious as what was the teacher up to. She had to be careful, though, as if found, they’d give her a stinging detention, as it was curfew. A thundering noise came from Hagrid’s Hut. The Hippogriff’s execution, she remembered. He had been sentenced to death due to Mr Malfoy’s power and influence, after it had attacked the brat of his son.Out of the castle and through the yards of Hogwarts, Lucille ran, her breath coming in short gasps. She saw Snape ahead, his dark form moving swiftly towards the Whomping Willow. As she watched in astonishment, he vanished through the roots of the tree.

Biting her lip, Lucille approached the willow cautiously. Its massive branches whipped through the air, striking out with a menacing force. She dodged and weaved, inching closer and closer, until she reached a particular spot among the roots. The branches seemed to pause for a split second, just long enough for her to slip through.

Lucille fell into a dark tunnel, landing with a thud on the cold, hard ground. She winced, rubbing her sore limbs, but quickly regained her focus. The tunnel stretched out before her, dimly lit and foreboding. She knew she had to move quickly if she was going to catch Snape and retrieve the map.

Determination surged through her as she began to navigate the underground passage. The air was damp and filled with the earthy scent of the tunnel. Each step echoed ominously, reminding her of the urgency of her mission. She could feel the weight of the map’s loss pressing on her, driving her forward with relentless resolve.

Snapey, Snapey, look what you make me do...

Lucille set off deeper into that tunner, trying to recall if it was shown in the Marauders Map, regretful she had not learnt that map by heart.  Lucille ran as fast as her legs were keeping her, perhaps for 10 minutes or Merlin knows, one hour? There was no way back now, by then the full moon could have been already on the sky.

The tunner had finally ended with few stairs leading to a door. Lucille swallowed, aware anything could be behind and prepared her wand. Slowly she opened the door, hearing her father’s breathless voice, “Severus, I beg you! You haven’t heard everything! This is a mistake you’re making!”

“Dumbledore believed you harmless, Lupin...“ Snape’s voice echoed, “... two more for Azkaban tonight...”

There was a rough collish. Lucille gasped and kicked the door – all she could see was her father panting helplessly on the floor, his mouth, wrists and legs tied with tacky cords. With immeasurable loathe she turned to Snape, who was at the time busy with another homeless man she was not bothered by at the moment, “What’d you done to him, you MONSTER!”

Snape was flately not expecting her appearance; his wand that was pointed at someone else was shifting towards her, but Harry Potter arised from rearward, collecting a wand off the floor and shouting, “Expelliarmus!“ That was enough for the teacher to be slammed against the wall, falling harshly on the floor – he had been put to sleep.

Trying to focus on the right thing, Lucille rushed to untie them, but at the same time someone else was trying to do the exactly the same. Her eyes arised dismayed on the filthy man, only that his hair was matted and his robes, black and white, decreipted, but his eyes, deep and blue had managed to make a connection in her mind, a dangerous one. She frowned, “You are not... are you? On Merlin’s pants...”

“The one and only,” he roared, helping Remus up on his feet.

“Harry, you attacked a teacher!” Hermione's voice broke through the chaos. Lucille turned to see Hermione, her ginger cat Crookshanks, Ron, and Harry standing there, their faces a mix of shock and accusation.

Scared and confused, Lucille asked, “Dad, what’s going on?”

Remus, with Sirius's help, got to his feet. “There’s a lot you need to know,” he began.

Sirius stepped forward, his face filled with a grim determination, teeling them he was innocent. Peter Pettigrew was the real traitor, the one who betrayed Lily and James Potter. He’d been hiding all these years, disguised as Ron’s pet rat.

Lucille kind-of despised Potter, but that night he seemed... different. She could not have imagined being in his shoes. The look in his eyes when he stared at Sirius, the way it shifted as hearing their story. The sudden gasps when his father was mentioned. The unimaginable loathe when the rat’s true identity was revealed... and the way he spared him. If he were someone else, that would be admirable.

From that moment, her perspective above Potter had slightly changed. How must have he been feeling hearing all this? Ronald’s childhood rat turned to be a plump, balded murderer, the one responsible for his parents’ death, and he had the imprudence to beg for his life before him. And after all that, he still spared his life.

Sirius Black and her father had explained everything anxiously so as they’d understand and desirous to finish off the aggitated rat in Weasley’s hands.

Ron looked horrified, holding his trembling hand out as Sirius transfigured the rat back into its true form—a cowering, disheveled man cuffed to Sirius's hand.

As the story unfolded, Lucille and the others listened in stunned silence. Remus and Sirius explained how Pettigrew had framed Sirius, leading to his imprisonment in Azkaban, and how he had lived as Scabbers to avoid detection. The weight of the truth settled on them, turning their initial suspicion into compassion for Sirius.

“We believe you,” Harry finally said, his voice filled with empathy.

They turned their attention to Snape, still unconscious on the floor. Remus explained the animosity between them, linked to a prank that had gone wrong from their teenage years.

Understanding dawned on Lucille. The pieces of the puzzle were finally coming together. She felt a mix of emotions—anger at the injustice Sirius had faced, relief that her father was safe, and a strange camaraderie with the people around her, even Harry.

In that moment, the grudges and misunderstandings began to fade, replaced by a shared determination to set things right.

On their way back through the tunnel, the air thick with the weight of newfound truths, Lucille walked beside her father. "Dad, why didn’t you ever tell me about your adventures as a student? About being Moony from the Marauders Map?"

Remus sighed, the lines of worry on his face deepening. "I wanted to protect you, Lucille. Some memories are better left in the past."

"I was trying to take the map back from Snape," Lucille explained, her voice a mixture of frustration and determination. "I thought it was important."

Sirius, walking just ahead of them, turned and grinned. Despite his filthy robes and the mop of his hair, he had an undoubtedly strong, amusing character. He suddenly aknowledged Lucille’s presence, stared funnily at her, and asked Potter, ‟And who would that be? Has your girlfriend come to your rescue, Harry?” Remus muttered a laugh under his breath, but in the darkness, again, he looked at her strangely, ‟No, no, don’t tell me. I know who you are. And how could I not? You’ve got just her face. Remus, I have utterly forgotten you had a daughter. Only I couldn’t see her clearly in darkness. Nina in flesh and blood.”

Lucille's curiosity piqued, she pressed further. "What else do you know about my mother? Dad doesn’t tell me much."

Remus's face grew dark with a mix of sadness and protectiveness. "Lucille, this isn’t the time for that," he said firmly. ‟Sirius...” Remus said, indignatedly. ‟Let’s now focus, and see what we will do about that filth of a rat.”

Sirius nodded, understanding the unspoken pain in Remus's eyes. They continued in silence, the tension palpable, until they finally reached the end of the tunnel.

During their walk through the tunnel, Lucille couldn't help but notice the poignant reunion between Harry and his godfather, Sirius. She felt a pang of sympathy, realizing that Harry had no family besides him. As they emerged from the Whomping Willow, the full moon shone brightly in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the grounds. Remus began to change, his body convulsing as he painfully transformed into a werewolf.

Moments before disaster. Her head was hurting. It all happened so fast... Pettigrew, the real murderer, now at loose... Remus couldn’t stand a chance before the full moon. And for the first time it was when she saw the whole process.

First, the moon’s rays brought him down to his knees. Screaming. He was in pain. As the wolf inside him desired to lure out, his nose elongated into a muzzle, his ears sharpened. The fingers stretched into claws. As he ripped out his shirt, his spine stretched as the gray fur begun to form. In matter of minutes, he became a beast fully.

In vain tried Sirius as a hound to protect them. To trick him into the woods. Potter and Granger were further away, but the beast was emerging towards Lucille and Ron Weasley, his leg badly damaged. Sirius was biting him, calling him away, meanwhile Lucille grabbed the injured boy’s arm around her neck and ran. A couple of boulders were where they were hiding before. But a loud breathing approached. Lucille was panting, Ron put a finger over his lips. ‟Run,” he mouthed, and that’s what her instincts were guiding her to do. She did consider it. She looked behind the rocks, and there he was. A wolf the size of a bear facing her. She couldn’t find a sign of Remus, not even through his eyes. Cold as an hungry animal’s. He then hurried towards them. Lucille shielded Ron behind her – thinking, hoping that Remus could somehow smell her and not hurt her. Not the case. He did not pull back from aggresively scratching her leg.

Someone suddenly attacked from behind and so the Werewolf rushed in the Forbidden Forest. She thought it had to be Sirius. But another unfriendly face appeared.

 ‟You are unimaginably fortunate I was here. Almost dinner for your own father... Tut. tut, tut...”

Lucille did not feel any gratefulness towards the man, even though she should have. He saved her life.

‟That’s on you. I reckon, for allying with delinquents...” He shifted his wand, and her eyes felt heavy. Not long after, she heard Ron snoring. Lucille felt herself floating. Severus was levitating them on two stretchers towards the castle.

‟I give you my word that by morning, Remus won’t see daylight again and Black will, from the sky above.”

Her body was heavy. She wanted to move, to get away, to stop him. She was screaming inside, No... but only hums were coming out.

‟Don’t begin, little Lupin. I doubt Wizard Child Protection Security  would allow your custody in his hands any longer. Perhaps they should let you stay in the same cell with your father. That’s where your kind belongs. He scratched you. Turned into a Werewolf by her own father... I will ensure Dumbledore won’t let any of you step a toe near Hogwarts ever again, even if that’s the last thing I do.”

The anger, the loathe allowed her to open her eyes, though it was all a blur. She could have not feel her hand at all, not remembering when it wounded. Was it when Remus emerged towards her? When she fell through the stones?

A bitter ‟Sweet dreams”was the last thing she remembered hearing.

Lucille woke early in the morning, the first light of dawn filtering through the curtains of the Hospital Wing. Harry and Hermione were by her side, their faces lit with a mixture of excitement and relief. They quickly recounted their adventure with the Time-Turner, explaining how they had managed to save both Buckbeak the Hippogriff and Sirius Black. Lucille's heart lifted at the news, a smile spreading across her face.

Ron Weasley was being unusually friendly. He thanked her for saving his life and swore to be forever grateful – Lucille simply smiled, aware it was not her first thought to sacrifice her life for him. Something in her made her believe Remus would never, under any circumstance going to harm her. Clearly, it was not the case. Besides, hurting another child would have brought such trouble on his shoulders...

Her throat was dry. Lucille tried to rise from her back so as to sit. A hand of hers was properly bandaged and her head pounded with ache.

“Oh, oh no, sit down, your hand... It’s good news that’s just a silly scartch,” Madam Pomfrey explained in a quiet voice, “Already faded. He did not touch the flesh or a vein. Don’t worry my dear, you are not turning into a Werewolf,” she gave a softening grin, “But the scratch was indeed the product of  one, and will remain forever.”

Lucille looked in her eyes. Poppy continued, “He did not mean to do it, love, I can vow on that!”

A thick scar from her right joint to her toe. Her head hurting, she recalled. “No, I know,” said Lucille calmly, “I don’t care it scarred. And it didn’t even pass my mind he’d be up for something like that. It wasn’t him.”

Pomfrey said, her smile fading, “It was assurdely not him. The beast takes over him as soon as the moon is set. It would always be like that, even as a little child, for the Shack was a small place for such a needy creature and it started hurting himself. I know that because I had treated him, his body is covered in cicatrices. Poor Remus... Your hand, however, is broken and you'll need to stay here a bit longer to heal properly."

Poppy claimed she was absoluely not going to turn into a Werewolf, that he did not succeed in touching her flesh but she could have sworn her leg was covered in blood. “Perhaps it was just the product of your imagination,” Poppy Pomfrey asserted.

Relieved, Lucille allowed herself to drift back to sleep. When she woke again, Remus was sitting beside her, his face etched with guilt and sorrow. "I'm so sorry, Lucille, that you had to see me turn last night..." he said, his voice trembling with emotion. Lucille had begged Madam Pomfrey to absolutely not mention again that he had scratched her. Lucille was not going to tell him that he had harmed her. But he was avoiding her eyes, had an unusual weight in his speech, and when he did take a glimpse of her, his eyes would go wet.

Lucille reached out, placing her good hand on his. "It's alright, Dad. It wasn't your fault. I understand."

Remus sighed, his shoulders sagging. "The whole school knows my secret now. Dumbledore has received hundreds of letters from angry parents. I have to leave."

Lucille felt a pang of sadness but nodded. "I understand. I want to come home with you."

House-elves had already packed her belongings, and one of them led them to her father's office. As they gathered her things, Harry appeared at the door and tried his best to make him stay for the last feast. He rejected him, saying that the parents would not like it very much. But he said Lucille could stay if she would like to. Harry Potter looked at her calmly.

“No, of course I would like to leave! I can’t wait to go home...” she was quite apprehensive as well, since Snape had undoubtedly revealed Remus’ condition to the whole school.

“That’s odd—“ Potter added, “I would love to spend Summer here if only I could.”

“Summer at Hogwarts? You sound like Granger.”

“Well, you clearly don’t know the Dursleys. Anywhere else is better.”

Remus smiled kindly, “Then, perhaps, you could visit over the Holidays? Drop Lucille a line if you choose to. But, until then, Goodbye, Harry. Take care!”

"It must be hard for you, owing to your father's condition," he said gently, so as nobody could hear.

Lucille smiled, appreciating his understanding. "It is, but we'll manage."

Harry nodded, a look of realization crossing his face. "I finally understand your boggart. If it weren't for that incident, I wouldn't have been able to cast the Patronus to fight the Dementors."

Lucille felt a deep connection with Harry in that moment, a shared understanding of their struggles and fears.

They said their goodbyes, and Lucille and Remus left Hogwarts, boarding an empty Hogwarts Express. As the train carried them away from the castle, Lucille felt a mix of sadness and hope, ready to face whatever the future held with her father by her side.