a tea party
31 October 1996- 15 years after the sacrifice of James and Lily Potter
Euphemia's POV
The first two months of term have passed mostly with ease. My schedule has been packed with classes, Quidditch practices and the dreaded prefect rounds. Riddle and I perform our rounds as quickly and with as little communication as possible. Since our argument the first night, we barely speak to each other. Riddle seems to be saving his antagonism for outside of prefect duties, preferring to make snide comments in the halls and classrooms rather than while on duty.
Quidditch has been another trial all together. It's our captain, Oliver Wood, last year and he is desperate to win the Quidditch cup. We are playing the first match of the year next weekend against Slytherin, our biggest rival, and if we don't win I fear Oliver may never recover. He's had us on the most rigorous training regime for the last month and I wake up most mornings more sore than ever.
Today, however, the castle is serene and calm as most of the student body is off in Hogsmeade and celebrating the holiday. Harry has been despondent most of the day. Since Uncle Vernon neglected to sign the permission slip for Harry before we blew up Aunt Marge and ran away, he has to stay in the castle while all his friends are out shopping and having a great Halloween. I offered to sign it myself but according to McGonagall I am "not yet Harry's guardian" and therefore ineligible. I tried the "I have been taking care of him more than our Aunt and Uncle ever have" approach but she wouldn't hear it since I'm not even 18 yet. So Harry is stuck at Hogwarts.
Hoping to make Harry feel better, I stayed in the castle with him; although, I know studying in the library on a Saturday really was the last thing he wanted to do. I watch him as he sits across from me, his divination textbook open but untouched in front of him. "Hey, you know what? Screw studying. Lets go grab our brooms and run some drills outside on the pitch," I say, closing the textbook in front of me. Harry turns his gaze from staring out the window to me, slightly more interested than before.
"Really? I thought you have an essay to finish," he says, skeptically.
I shrug, pushing books into my bag and standing. "It's not due for a few more days. Besides, we have to crush Slytherin next weekend, don't we?" I ask, walking backwards away from the table, my best mischievous smirk on my face. "Come on! Chop chop!" Harry smiles and stands, pushing his books sloppily into his bag and following me out the door, both of us laughing. As we walk through the halls, Harry and I talk about Quidditch and what drills he wants to run until a voice calls out, "Harry? Euphemia?" I take a few steps back to see Professor Lupin walking through his classroom towards us. "What are the two of you up to? No Hogsmeade today?"
"No sir, we're just leaving the library," I say casually, assuming a teacher would try to stop us going to the pitch without supervision. Harry's expression sours again and he looks down at his feet.
"Ah, well why don't you come in? Harry, I've just gotten a grindylow for next lesson," Lupin says kindly, stepping back and walking through the classroom towards his office at the back of the room.
"A what?" Harry questions, following Lupin, his interest in Defense Against the Dark Arts distracting him momentarily. I set my bag on one of the desks and follow after them.
"It's a water demon," I say, "There's some in the Black Lake, isn't there?" I ask as Harry eyes the horned, green creature contained in a tank in the corner.
"Quite possible, although I had this one shipped in. You learned about them already?" I nod.
"Yeah, we did those third year as well. Although Professor Quirrell didn't actually bring one in," I chuckle.
"Would you two like a cup of tea?" Lupin asks, as he looks around, presumably for a kettle.
"Sure."
"All right," Harry and I speak at the same time. He looks at me, wondering how long I think this will take and I shrug. We can still go to the pitch later. Harry and I take a seat at the chairs Lupin has across from his desk as Lupin taps his wand on the kettle, filling it instantly with hot water.
"I only have tea bags currently, although I daresay you're quite tired of tea leaves," Lupin says, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, eliciting a smile from me as he hands me a chipped tea cup.
"How'd you know about that?" Harry asks, taking his own cup from the professor.
"Professor McGonagall told me. Are you concerned about it?"
"No," Harry responds quickly, telling me he's lying. "Professor, can I ask you something?"
"Of course, you can ask me anything," Lupin says, sitting in his desk chair.
I watch Harry as he considered Lupin for a moment before speaking up, "Why did you stop me from facing the boggart?" Harry had told me about that first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, where a bogart had turned into a dementor in front of Harry, but I hadn't realized it had been bothering him so much.
Lupin raises his eyebrows, leaning forward on his desk. "Well, I would have assumed that obvious; I assumed it would take the shape of Lord Voldemort." I watch Lupin, surprised not really by his answer but that he actually said Voldemort's name. Almost no one dared to say his name, even 15 years after his death. It was always "You Know Who" and "He Who Must Not Be Named."
"Well, I guess I thought of him first but then I remembered the train and I..." Harry sets his tea down on the desk, watching it as if he fears it's going to run away.
"I'm impressed, Harry. That suggests that what you fear the most is fear itself. Quiet wise of you." I smile at Harry who looks quite stunned by the professor's comments.
"I-is it normal? For people to faint?" Harry asks hesitantly, glancing at me, "Or to... hear things?"
"Well, dementors force us to relive our worst memories. Pain becomes their power," Lupin answers carefully.
"We heard our mum," I say, "both of us. Just before..." Lupin studies me for a long moment, his eyes sad and heavy.
"Mia, do you- do you remember what happened that night?" He asks very slowly, carefully.
"No... at least, I don't know if what I remember is what happened or what my brain has made up from my dreams and from what we've been told," I shift in my seat, looking down at the cup in my hands. I've had the same nightmare for as long as I can remember, being woken up and taken into a nursery. Placed in the crib with a baby with dark hair and green eyes, our mum looking down at us, and then screaming as a green light covers everything. "Godric, I just realized today is the anniversary," I blurt out, feeling guilty for not remembering sooner. My fingers find the ring on my left pointer finger, twisting it around with my thumb. The ring was left with us when we were given to our Aunt and Uncle, along with a wristwatch and a letter to the Dursleys. Harry and I always assumed they had belonged to our parents but we've never known for sure. The office is silent for a heavy moment and I start to fear that I said too much, admitted too much to this near stranger.
"You know, the very first time I saw the two of you, I recognized you immediately. Not by your scars. You are the near spitting image of your parents, the pair of you. And you both have Lily's eyes." Harry's and my heads both shoot up at the man. People often spoke of our parents, how brave they were and how wonderful their sacrifice was but very few ever really claim to have known them. "Yes. Oh yes, I knew your parents," Lupin speaks gravely, a strange pain and mourning in his voice, "Your mother was there for me at a time no one else was. She was a singularly gifted witch, and always unfailingly kind. She could often see the beauty in others even when they could not see it themselves. James, your father on the other hand, he had a certain talent for trouble, we'll say," Lupin chuckles slightly, mindlessly tracing one of the scars on his hand.
"Yeah, I've heard that about him," I chuckle.
"Rumor has it he passed that particular talent onto both of you," which causes all of us to laugh, "You're more alike them than you know, and that is a very good thing," Lupin says, gently, a small but warm smile on his face. Harry opens his mouth to say something but before he can there is a knock at the door. "Come in," Lupin calls. Snape steps into the room carrying a goblet of something that is smoking, and narrows his eyes at Harry and I.
"We'll leave you, professors. Thank you for the tea," I say, setting my cup down and pulling Harry up. Lupin smiles at us before we leave. Snape follows us to the door, closing it sharply behind us. Once we are back in the hallway, I look at Harry with a mischievous smirk. "Race you to the pitch?"
"You're on!"
✦ ✦ ✦
"It's going to be great! We picked up some Butterbeer and Firewhiskey today and some Ravenclaw is going to DJ!" Fred says, rapid fire catching me up on the plans for the party tonight. Fred and George like to fancy themselves the party planners for the school and always, always throw a party on Halloween.
"Freddie, that sounds great," I chuckle, as we walk back from the Halloween feast to the Gryffindor Dorms.
"Party of a lifetime, Mia," Fred chuckles, throwing his arm around my shoulders and pulling him into me, causing me to laugh.
"Oh I have no doubt," I chuckle as we round the corner to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. Fred and I slow our pace, eyes falling on a crowd gathered around the entrance. "The hell?"
"Mate, what's going on?" Fred asks Oliver who is standing towards the back of the pack. Oliver shrugs, trying to look through the crowd. I untangle myself from Fred and push my way through the crowd, towards the front. Finally I step to the front and my blood runs cold. The portrait where The Fat Lady normally presides over the entrance to Gryffindor Common Rooms is completely shredded. The magic portrait is still for the first time that I've ever seen, leaving the dorm inaccessible. I step towards the portrait, examining the tears in the canvas, trying to figure out what could have done this. Did a creature get into the castle? It's certainly not the first time something has gotten in where they shouldn't be. But there is no damage anywhere else. When a troll was let into the castle a few years ago it destroyed nearly everything it encountered. A realization hits me and my stomach twists. I turn sharply, startling the students behind me. "Go find Dumbledore," I say to a younger student before I push my way back through the crowd.
"Mia! What's going on?" George asks, having joined Fred and Oliver at the back of the group along with Alicia, Angelina, and Lee.
"Someone attacked the Fat Lady. Have you seen Harry?" I ask quickly, scanning the corridor for my brother.
"What? Who would do that?" Angelina says, craning to look around the crowd.
"I have to find Harry," I say, starting to move down the hall before a hand wraps around my arm pulling me back.
"Mia, slow down. What's going on? Why do you need Harry?" Fred says, holding me to prevent me from leaving on my own.
"I don't know but something is in the castle and they targeted the entrance to Gryffindor Tower!" I say trying to pull my arm from Fred's grasp.
"No, if there's something in the castle, I'm not letting you go off alone. It's not safe."
"Fred, stop! I need to find him," I say, getting frustrated. I finally pull myself from Fred's grasp and turn to see Harry, Ron and Hermione walking towards us down the corridor. "Harry!" I yell, rushing towards him, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he says, clearly weirded out by my concern.
"Mia, what's going on?" Hermione asks, eyeing the crowd in the corridor.
"Nothing good," I mutter. Just then, Dumbledore appears followed by Lupin, McGonagall and Snape and Flitch, the crowd parting around them.
"Oh my," Hermione mutters behind me as the portrait comes into view.
"Mr. Flitch, round up the ghosts and start searching all the paintings for the Fat Lady," Dumbledore orders.
"Oh you could try!" Cackles Peeves, the pranking poltergeist, from above; looking very pleased with the chaos below him.
"What do you mean?" Dumbledore asks calmly, almost daring the ghost to taunt him.
"She's a horrible mess, you see. Running around on the third floor blubbering horribly," Peeves says, his voice oily in the absence of his cackle.
"Did she say who is to blame?"
"Oh yes, Sirius Black. Nasty temper on that one, Professorship."
Harry and I exchange a tense look and a ripple of fear passes through the rest of the crowd. Maybe Mr. Weasley was right after all...