Meraki

Chapter 5: Pluviophile

“Nice one, L-B!” Graham roars above the sound of the pounding rain coming down on them. He flies in right next to her, giving her a rather rough pat on the back. Avior can barely see the goalposts through the heavy rainfall, yet she loves every second of it. She is grinning broadly at him after having made that goal.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Montague,” she replies. They high-five once before Marcus Flint yells out at her to get back into the training. Only her, it is only ever Avior Lupin-Black who is doing something wrong on the team. Even when Lucian Bole is focusing on hitting the Bludgers her way every single time, even when he finally succeeds and one of the Bludgers flies right into her. Her left collarbone explodes in utter pain as she cries out.

“Imbécile!” She mutters through gritted teeth and the stars she sees. She steers her broom back to the ground, clenching her jaw from the throbbing, burning pain.

“Go!” Marcus yells, granting her permission she certainly does not need to seek out care.

“He did that on purpose!” Her voice is not as deep as his, not hard enough to be audible above the rain and from such a distance.

“Come on.” Graham appears right next to her, taking her broom from her once her shoes hit the ground. He holds their brooms in one hand and rests his other hand on her back, leading the way across the Quidditch pitch and back to the castle. Their teammates quickly resume the training without a second thought, although one person in particular lingers for a longer moment before he goes back to it. Graham ensures that she reaches the Hospital Wing and tells Pomfrey what happened while Avior sulks in silence. He goes back to the pitch and she stays behind with Pomfrey drawing the curtains around the bed she is perched upon.

“I shall inform your Head of House,” she says, “about this treatment you are receiving.”

“No use,” Avior sighs as the Healer helps her undo her Quidditch robes. She hisses with pain when she moves her arm even in the slightest way. “He won’t care,” she continues and they both pause, “I would be surprised if he doesn’t encourage it.”

Instead of going back to her training after Pomfrey healed her in a heartbeat, she freshens up and returns to the Hospital Wing, choosing to learn more in the skill of Healing rather than continue the Quidditch training with the rest of her teammates. She loves it —Quidditch— but with the gloomy weather worsening the way her team is handling her, she for once chooses a safe option. There is no way for her to get in any training or fun like that anyway.

———

Finally, the end of October comes around which means the very first visit to Hogsmeade of the year has arrived. It is cold and it might rain later in the day, yet it does not deter Avior’s excitement to visit the village again. They have magic, they can keep dry.
She steps out of her dorm as she wraps her green and silver scarf around her neck, to match her hat covering the top of her long, wild hair. Theodore is waiting on her by the common room’s entrance.

“Ready!” She exclaims once she reaches him, naturally wrapping her hand around his arm, his hand tucked into his pocket. “Zonko’s first.”

Theodore nods in response, “But of course.”
The two best friends start on their way to Hogsmeade, in the middle of a stream of students making the same trip. He feels her hand squeeze around his arm gently, assuring herself that she will remain close to him.

“Is your father going, too?” Theodore asks, his voice becoming lost in the stream of chatter surrounding them.

Avior shakes her head. “He is staying here, he’s getting tired.” She looks up to give him a meaningful smile and he doesn’t need more to understand. At times, they seem to be able to read each other’s mind, in a similar fashion like in her relationship with Juliette, yet it is so different all the same.
It is mostly Avior talking on their walk to the magical village, bringing up classes, teachers, homework, Quidditch, and so much more. She doesn’t pause to wonder how he can keep up, something she hasn’t done in a couple years now. It has become something to assume, his ability to keep up with her endless thoughts, her infinite curiosity, her deep well of energy.

“… and I ought to get some Dungbombs. I also want to make—”

“Lupin-Black!”
Theodore is faster to stop and turn than she is, close to their first destination; Zonko’s Joke Shop. Two identical redheads walk up the path towards them and they seemingly ignore Theodore’s presence, despite him being glued to her side, as they come to a stop with semi-identical grins. Fred’s displays a slight look of arrogance, whereas George’s is softer.

George was the one to call for her. “I reckon I’ll start calling you Elle. Your name is insanely long.”

“Whatever ya want, muffin.” She shrugs, moving to turn back to their path again when Fred stops her by moving an arm around her shoulders. “Where are you rushing off to, mini-murdere— Oof.”
Avior elbowed him in the side sharply and smoothly escapes his hold, pulling Theodore with her.

“I don’t like them,” he says as he glares at the twins over his shoulder, the sound of George’s laughter following them.

“That is twice she hit you!” They hear him say, right before they enter the joke shop. The bell rings above them once they pass through the door. Per usual, the shop is teeming with Hogwarts students in every aisle.

“It was kind of funny,” Avior chuckles, “I must admit that.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Theodore argues heatedly. “It was mean. He shouldn’t be calling you that.” For some ordinary reason, her cheeks flush at that; his tone, his response. The fact that he cares. He looks down at her when she doesn’t reply, just to see a gentle smile on her face, so unlike the way she grins when she has thought of another idea to push his buttons.

———

Once they have bought enough to fill a single bag —Avior did more of the shopping, Theodore simply follows along like he always does— she deems it right to finally move onto the next stop. It has not started raining yet which Theodore is all too happy about, while Avior is looking forward to the rain. They have magic to keep themselves dry and she loves the sound and look of it. Even the smell afterwards, when the wind picks it up and lifts it from the Dark Forest to the castle at the end of a rainy day.
They are approaching the Three Broomsticks, until she stops him with a dramatic gasp.

“Regardez! What a cute dog!”
Avior has left him with the bag before he can process it as she starts towards a quite large, black dog who looks anything but cute. Threatening would be more fitting. Perhaps dangerous.

“Ava, wait!” He calls after her and rushes to intercept her before she gets too close to the dog.

“What?” She asks absentmindedly, her gaze and mind set on the dog and petting it. “That dog does not look cute,” says Theodore, “it’s probably a stray and you don’t know if it’s safe.”

“Oh shut up,” she brushes him off, watching the dog as he walks back and forth in the distance. It almost seems like he is looking for something, she realises. Food, she assumes next. “Maybe I can take them back to the castle with me!” She hurries away.

“Hey, dog! Hi!”
The students that pass her as she cuts through the path ahead of them give her weird and curious looks, but she doesn’t notice it with her gaze laser focused on the dog that only seems to get bigger and bigger the closer she gets.

“Hi,” she breathes as the dog turns to face her when he finally takes note of her arriving. It suddenly steps back multiple paces and Avior freezes on the spot in response.

“I won’t hurt ya,” she tries to reassure him, crouching down to lower herself to his height, however he is almost bigger than her from this perspective. “Are ya hungry?” Her hand is outstretched in between them as she waits for him to get closer like she had done on the last full moon with Remus.

“Ava, are you insane?” Theodore hisses behind her. She ignores it. “What if he bites your hand off?” At that, she can’t help but laugh.

“He is so cute, he wouldn’t do that.” He does slowly start to get closer to her. “See? You’re the sweetest little dog,” she smiles brightly, vaguely hearing Theodore sigh behind her, and she is almost certain that he is shaking his head. The dog whines softly when his snout touches her fingers.

“What’s wrong?” Avior whispers with her heart dropping for the poor animal. She shuffles closer and lifts her other hand to gently pat his back. Her arms want to lift to wrap around the dog and pull him closer, to shield him from the cold air despite his black fur that is surely keeping him warm enough already. Already stepping into her space, the dog appears to read her mind. Avior lifts her arms around him and strokes his back at the same time.

“All is well! I’ll take you to the castle with me!” She says and Theodore is quick to argue, “You can’t.”

“Shut up, Teddy,” she says, trying to look over her shoulder to glare at him and giving the dog a face full of her hair in the process. “Don’t listen to him,” she speaks to the dog again as she turns back, “he is just a pessimistic little boy.”

“Hey!”
Avior chuckles and lets go of the dog, whose tail is wagging now.

“I could buy you some food,” she offers. This isn’t the first and will by far be the last time that Theodore sees her having a one sided conversation with an animal or creature. She always looks to be seeing something in them that others don’t. Theodore has called her Hagrid many times before. Then, the dog shakes his head and she squeals out of surprise.

“Did ya see that, Ted?!” Avior spins around on her feet to face him, staring up from where she remains crouched on the ground. “He understood me! What kind of dog do ya think he is? He has to be a magical one!”

Something starts tugging on her scarf behind her and when she turns to look, it is the dog. He has the fabric trapped between his teeth in an attempt to pull it off of her.

“You either love or hate green,” she grins, unwrapping the scarf from her neck.

“You’ll get cold,” Theodore comments. “Magical or not, he wants to get you sick.”

“Silly boy,” she mumbles under her breath, now wrapping the scarf around the dog’s neck. “There, now you won’t get cold.”
Another scarf is placed around hers and one breath in tells her it’s Theodore’s. His scent envelops her. It gets close to being embraced by him, if not for the lack of his arms around her body. Avior finds herself burying her nose into the scarf to take another deep breath in.
The dog barks once, very loudly, and it successfully wakes her out of her thoughts and the smell of Theodore disappears in an instant as she jumps and falls back.

“Alright, we’re leaving,” he decides sharply as he helps her back onto her feet. He tries to brush over the fabric of her robes on the back to clean it, but quickly stops himself. “He could have bitten your nose off there,” says Theodore sternly.

Avior looks down at the dog that is standing there so still now, he could pass as a statue with a Slytherin scarf fluttering in the wind. “I like my nose,” she mutters.

“I do too, so I’d like you to keep it.” Theodore grabs her much colder hand in his and pulls her away from the dog.

“Bye!” She calls over her shoulder. “I’ll be back another day!” Then, her mismatched eyes find the side of her best friend’s face. He glances at her, the sight of her eyes alone showing the glint of an upcoming smile. “You like my nose? Never have you said that before, my dear Teddy.”

“You’re welcome,” he responds dryly. His matching smile does not go with his supposed nonchalant tone. They both become much more conscious of their hands in the grasp of the other’s, and yet don’t make any move to let go. Instead, she squeezes in his and tugs on it to catch his eye again.

“I like yours.”

———

After each drinking a warm butterbeer and taking one back, the two decided to return to the castle, a little earlier than most of the other students. Avior takes Theodore with her to Remus’s classroom to drop off the butterbeer that has already gone cold by then. She knocks thrice on his office-and-bedroom door, which he opens soon enough.

“Hi!” She huffs out with an ever widening smile on her face. Not a fragment of evil exists in the world when she is with her father. He brings her a different kind of peace, and so does she for him. The tiredness from the upcoming full moon drains out of his body at the sight of her smile, granting him a breath of fresh air full of energy. She makes the air around her buzz with magic, maybe he is just imagining that. Maybe it is his own magic responding to being so close to hers, recognising the strength and importance of it to him. His magic is tied to his very essence after all.

“We got you a butterbeer— But it’s not as warm anymore,” she rambles as she leads the way into his room past him, leaving the bottle on his desk, “and we got some stuff at Zonko’s. We went into Honeydukes, but didn’t get anything. Also!”

Avior turns to face her father —who had just closed the door behind Theodore— again with a glitter in her eyes, somehow giving the grey one colour too. “We saw a dog! Il était tellement adorable!”

Regardless of Theodore not speaking much French, even with a French best friend, he whirls around to respond to her from where he had been studying the spines of some of Remus’s books on a shelf. “He wasn’t adorable! Sir—” he corrects himself when Remus gives him a meaningful look “—Remus, I mean, it was a stray dog. A massive black one at that. He almost even bit her face to shreds!”
For some odd reason, Remus can feel his heart still at the description of the dog. He mentally shrugs it off, still having not unlearned to see him in everything.

“What a way to over exaggerate!” Avior cuts in with such indignation, he might as well have insulted her directly. “Papa!” She argues now, to an amused yet concerned Remus.

“Ivy,” he interrupts her to prevent an upcoming tangent.

His hand finds her cheek for his thumb to stroke it once, tenderly. He doesn’t doubt that Theodore exaggerated what happened —a trait he has surely picked up from her— and he still can’t imagine anything happening to her face. Even if a single freckle disappeared, he would miss it dearly. Nevertheless, nothing can ever change his mind on the beauty of his daughter.

“You ought to be careful.” He silences her with a single look when she opens her mouth to most likely argue, and she snaps it shut.

“I trust ya, Ivy, but you could get hurt.”
Theodore smirks at her from Remus’s back, triumphant to have someone backing him up.

“He was friendly, I promise,” says Avior solemnly.

He admires her for another moment, and he remembers someone who could turn into a dog, a friendly one, and a more-than-friendly person. “I believe you,” he says with a smile much less bright than hers.

A conversation that lasts minutes longer later and they are on their way again, leaving Remus with the butterbeer in his room and a foreboding gut feeling telling him to keep his daughter in his sight at all times. She follows Theodore to his dormitory first, so he can take off his expensive robe and put it away neatly as he always does.

“You will use it soon again,” Avior tries —like she always does to no avail. “I don’t care.”
She glances around the dormitory and recognises Tristan’s trunk and bed; way messier than Theodore’s space. On the way to leave their room, they pass one of his roommates. Everett.

“Hi!” Avior greets him mindlessly when she passes him like a breeze. Everett pauses, his greeting stuck in his throat from how quickly she is gone again, not wanting to yell after her.

Weirdly, Theodore grins as he walks past him to follow her. “Sup, Rosier,” he says with a haughty air to his voice. A little too. In every way.

“Nott,” says Everett with a curt nod, then resuming his path into the dormitory. He turns around right before he enters the corridor, to take one last glance at the green-and-grey eyed girl, the extreme length of her raven hair billowing after her as she vanishes from his sight, followed by Theodore.

She plops down peacefully on her bed in the absence of her roommates right as she realises. “Wait! I forgot about your scarf.”

“Keep it,” he replies and moves to take the free space right next to her. “Are you sure?” Uncertainty and excitement both swirl in her already different eyes.

Theodore nods once, “Yes.”

“It smells like you,” she blurts out, unable to stop the words from coming out. To not have to look at him for a reaction, she quickly starts to undo her robe, standing up and turning her back on him.

“Does it really?” He asks airily. When she turns around, she finds him staring at her, leaning back on his hand on the bed.

“Well duh,” says Avior, “it is your scarf after all.”

“And now it is yours,” he responds so casually, so painfully unaware of the way that simple comment makes her heart jump. There is a brief moment of eye contact, until she pulls her robe off and steps away to drape it over the end of her bed.
It is still a new thing, for her to be reacting to her best friend in a way so… unfriendly. Avior doesn’t know what to do with herself. She fears it might actually be a crush.
Theodore watches her when she walks those few steps back while unwrapping her —his— scarf from her neck, only to lay it on her pillow. He studies her gentleness with something as ordinary as a Slytherin scarf, unlike the clumsiness that usually is in charge of her body.

“Are you sure?” Avior promptly shatters the silence. “You won’t have a scarf.”

“You wouldn’t have one because you gave yours to a dog. Didn’t stop to think of that, did you? Besides, Ava, I have another one.”
Her argument dies in her throat, and an unexpected giddiness bubbles in her chest.

“Okay,” she replies breathlessly, kicking her shoes off to sit cross legged on her bed. She is facing Theodore with an idiotic smile, then throws her arms around him out of the blue. He freezes for a split second, thrown off by the suddenness of her actions, but then he returns her embrace, although he doubts his would ever be as warm as hers. She could compete with any star in the sky, and she would win every time.

“Oh I love you, Teddy,” she sighs, her head against his collarbone. Now it is his turn to smile giddily.
It had been a while since he had felt such a warm presence so close to him, since his mother’s death. Then he met her and it had been a blessing that she stumbled upon him in Diagon Alley and inserted herself into his life the way she did. “I love you, Ava.”

The tiny animal of black fur named Nyx jumps onto his lap to curl up there, feeling missed out on the affection her owner is receiving.

“Nyx loves you, she’s told me,” Avior pipes up. The two let go of each other and simultaneously reach out to pet the little cat.

“I’m sure she has,” he mumbles, and he doesn’t sound sarcastic at all. Nyx pulls her head away. In turn, their fingertips bump into each other. Avior giggles fondly and grabs his hand, pulling it over her while she curls into herself and against him. With her knees against her chest, formed into a human ball next to him, she might as well be a second cat. He sometimes believes that Nyx gets her clinginess from her.

“You’re wearing a skirt,” he comments. “I know,” she mumbles, her eyes fluttering closed.

“So put your feet down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” says Avior, laughter bubbling in her throat but not yet coming out.

“What if someone—” “No one is coming, Ted,” she cuts him off, “and even if my roommates do, they already pretend I don’t exist. They wouldn’t care if they could see up my skirt.” Avior snorts. “As if they don’t have the same under it anyways.”

Theodore considers himself lucky that she can’t see the deep flush crawling up his face. “That’s not— I mean… Whatever.” The words stumble out of his mouth like a fawn only just learning to walk. Avior tries to keep her laughter in; he never struggles with his words, at least not the way she does when so often jumbling her sentences.

“Whatever exactly,” she agrees. “Besides,” Avior adds, “I could just obliviate anyone!”
He doubts she can even do it properly, seeing as it is not a spell they are taught in class. It makes him laugh heartily. Her head snaps up and he is met with squinted eyes.

“What are ya laughing at?”
Theodore does something between a smile and a smirk.

“Do you not believe in my being able to obliviate people?” Avior goes on. She sits upright and pulls her wand out from her left sleeve.

“Woah, wait!” He is quick to grab her hand around her wand. “That is not a thing to play around with. Haven’t you been taught to be a responsible wand owner?”
His fingers flex wrapped around her hand, and she is awfully aware of the difference in size between them. The way he has to tilt his chin down to look at her and that she still has to look up. He has gotten a lot taller than her, while she isn’t that short. Not that she is complaining. But her heart is, pounding against the inside of her ribcage at their close proximity.

“Yes… I have.” There is an unusual hesitation in her voice, wrapped thickly around her tongue. Avior tugs her hand out of his grasp — or at least tries to. Instead of letting her, Theodore only tightens his grip, so he is pulled closer instead.

Nerves explode inside her, and she asks, “What are you doing?”

This seems to wake him out of a trance he did not realise himself to be in. He lets go of her hand as if he has been shocked, plastering a grin on his face. “Making sure you don’t end up cursing me.”
It is a lame response, he recognises that, but panic clutched his vocal cords and forced them to act. Theodore goes to blame her eyes in his mind. The different colours, they have a hypnotising effect. He always switches between which one to look at, unsure which colour to study first even if he has seen them both so often before.

Yes, it must be her eyes. It must be the barely-there difference in softness of them; how her right eye promises a benignity like spring grass, though the hint of grey in it is the mischievousness hidden beyond. It must be the way her left one looks so cold, so hard at first sight due to the lack of colour in it, and yet if one looks a tad longer, they discover the warmth hidden in its depths.

She was named after a star, it is impossible for a star not to be burning. If only one does not get too close, the star will provide a nice glow of heat, a point of light in the dark. Get too close, one burns. Unless the star dies and goes colder than ice.

———

Hallowe’en. Avior sighs happily, her gaze focused on the floating candles inside pumpkins in the Great Hall, then moving on to the bats fluttering around. She zones in on her father sitting next to Professor Flitwick, then resumes her way to the Slytherin table with Theodore for the feast.

“Should I have brought Dungbombs to set off at the end, by the entrance?” She asks him quietly and he pulls her to sit down. “Too late to think of that now, Blacky. I’m starving.”

“Of course,” she nods, “you can’t ever make use of your brain when hungry.”
They look at one another at the same time. She already expected him to give her that exact expression; one full of revenge. Which most likely translates into him giving her the silent treatment for approximately three minutes before he gives up.

Tristan appears in his sight behind her, sitting down on her other side with a heavy, “Hey.”

“Trissy Missy,” she turns to face him, “I saw a dog in Hogsmeade today.”
He is the third of her friends that she has told this — though others might consider it pathetic to call one’s parents a friend. When she told Juliette, she had offered to go to Hogsmeade together the next time, hoping to see the dog as well, before she was plucked away by her friends again. Leaving the younger girl wondering if they could even spare her a moment of Juliette’s time in Hogsmeade the next visit.
In turn, Tristan tells them about what he bought in the village, that he got pretty close to the Shrieking Shack this time, and lastly that he is convinced he ran into a vampire — which Avior knows could not be right, but she indulged his story regardless.

The boys fill their plates twice and end up groaning about being too full at the end, while Avior sat calmly between them during the second round.
It took Theodore only a few minutes to stop not talking to her, unable to hold back once she asked what they thought of her father’s classes. Ignoring that question would have been a show of utmost disrespect to her and her father both, and that is where he draws the line. Tristan and Theodore both wholeheartedly agree on Remus’s skill in teaching, how amazing of a professor he is, and how fun his classes have been so far. They are by far not the only students to think of Remus so highly.

At the very end of the feast, the ghosts of Hogwarts put on a show for students and staff, earning a loud and echoing applause from all. Finally, everyone raises to their feet and moves to exit the hall at once. Avior vaguely hears Draco Malfoy’s voice call out above everyone else, but certain that it isn’t directed at her, she ignores it.

Their common room being so close to the Great Hall is a blessing when she starts to get tired from their day in Hogsmeade and the wonderful feast they had moments ago. Avior falls into an armchair in front of the fire with a deep, content sigh.

“Today was great,” she says to Theodore who stands in front of her.

“You look tired,” he inclines his head just a tad, “it is amusing how much energy it takes for you to walk, spend money, steal, and eat.”

The toe of her shoe nudges his leg. “Why aren’t you agreeing?” Avior pouts.

“You don’t need me to tell you to—”

“Attention.”

Snape does not need to raise his voice much louder to grasp the focus of every student present in the common room, quickly turning their heads to look at him in curiosity. “All of you are obligated to follow me to the Great Hall, right this moment.”

Everyone gets in motion at once, although Avior is a little slow to react. Wonder locks her limbs in place for a long second until Theodore takes her hand to lead her to follow their housemates.

Surprisingly, this time it is Theodore who asks the questions first, “Do you think something happened?”

“Maybe,” she shrugs, retightening her pale digits around his tan ones. Curiosity silences the pair for them to quietly follow their fellow housemates and Snape back to the Great Hall. Upon returning, they run into the other three Houses, also led by their Head of Houses with plain expressions to cover up their faces and true emotions. Everyone keeps on their feet and silence falls in a wave from front to back, like a sheet being pulled over the throng of students to imprison their voices within.

“The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle,” Professor Dumbledore starts to speak while Professors McGonagall and Flitwick close every single door that leads into the hall. “I’m afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge…”
Avior doesn’t hear the end of his short speech as she already turns to look up at Theodore, concern muddling the green and grey of her eyes.

“For our safety?” She echoes the Headmaster’s words to him, unsure whether he heard it too. The House tables suddenly flying off to each side of the hall shuts him up effectively before he has even spoken. Then, every square meter of the floor is covered by purple sleeping bags.

“Sleepover!” Avior hisses in a whisper, worry momentarily forgotten in her excitement. “We should find Julie and pick a corner to sleep in, come on!”
She pulls him along as she pushes past their peers towards the corner to the right of the entrance.

“Wait, did you hear that?” Theodore tugs on her hand, still connected through each student they pass. “They said—”

“Lune!”
Avior doesn’t hear the voice of her sister calling for her, more focused on her mumbling to herself and finding the perfect spot that makes her the most comfortable; as into the corner as possible, surrounded by people she knows, her friends.

“… better not be taken. I will have to kick them out of my spot…”

“Ava,” Theodore attempts to catch her attention and squeezes her hand, but the girl doesn’t stop until she is in the corner, letting go of him to grab a sleeping bag and pull it further towards the wall.

“Lune.” Her head snaps up with a broad smile. She will no longer need to look for Juliette, she already came to her instead.

“Julie! Viens! Grab a sleeping bag and—”

“Avior,” Juliette interrupts her, and her smile drops once the alarmed look in her darker eyes registers and by the use of her full name instead of the usual Lune .

“Quoi?”
Her sister takes a few deep breaths in, having been running past other students to reach her and lightly out of breath with what she is about to tell her.

“What is it?” She asks once more and Theodore can’t help but feel like he is intruding as he watches between the two girls who have grown up so closely.
Juliette seems to try to communicate with her eyes alone, but this cannot be said non-verbally. She finally opens her mouth and yet nothing comes out. Instead, another person walks up to them. Graham Montague isn’t smiling in Juliette’s presence for once. Now, this is when Avior really starts to get worried.
Juliette pauses and looks at Graham with slight uncertainty, looking for support from him to break the news. She grabs another sleeping bag to place it next to Avior’s, so the younger girl is in between her and Theodore, and she sits down on it.

“Why are ya being so weird?”
Avior drops onto her ass on her own sleeping bag, with Theodore following on his. She glances over at him and gets a peek of many eyes looking her way, and more and more following.

“The reason that we all have to sleep here and why they are searching the castle is because…” The hesitation in Juliette’s usually honeyed voice adds a chilling twist to her words, increasing the suspense that has Avior holding her breath.

“Spit it out,” she says harshly when she can’t take it a second longer, impatience getting the best of her. Throughout the rest of the hall, students are getting into sleeping bags and whispering amongst themselves, it has the air buzzing electrically.

“Sirius Black broke into the castle and he tried to get into the Gryffindor common room,” Juliette ultimately breaks the silence amongst the four of them. By the lack of a reaction, it is obvious that Graham already knew.

“Who did what?” Theodore whispers severely. No one answers him. The buzzing in the hall already does.

“Did you hear? Sirius Black is in the castle.”

“Sirius Black! He broke in!”

“It was Sirius Black! Do you reckon she helped him?”

Heat floods her veins, it crawls up her neck.

“The lights are going out now!” Percy Weasley, Head Boy, shouts. “I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!”

Shock has her chained in her spot and she doesn’t know what to say, her voice lost like one of the princesses from Muggle stories that she has been told in France as a child.

“Everyone is safe, no?” Is the first thing she asks when she finds her voice again. Juliette nods, then Avior does.

“Alright,” she crawls into her sleeping bag, oddly calm, “then we should all sleep now. You heard Percy.”
She doesn’t say it, but Juliette understands that she doesn’t want to talk about anything related to Sirius Black right now, so she watches and allows her to cover half of her face with the sleeping bag, only her eyes peeking out on top. Juliette recognises them to be troubled, filled with many unexpressed thoughts.

Silence has now befallen them besides the occasional shuffling of fabric from students still settling on their spot. Avior turns onto her side and meets Theodore’s eye. He has gone into his own sleeping bag, and starts to scuffle closer to her.

He opens his mouth and she expects words of encouragement, an attempt at settling her nerves. “I’ll deck him if he tries anything.”
Avior releases a soft chuckle, surprised by the totally unexpected comment. The corners of his eyes crinkle slightly when he smiles at the sound of her laughter, his own nerves calming in response.

“Technically he has already tried something,” she says.

“If he tries again, I mean,” says Theodore quickly and he pulls one arm out, reaching out to her. She copies him to allow him to hold her hand again, the same way he did on their way here.

“We’ll be okay,” he reassures her. Although she appreciates the gesture, she doesn’t feel much assured laying on the hard floor of the Great Hall in a sleeping bag amongst every single other student of Hogwarts because of one simple reason; her escapee father has broken in.

After minutes of fussing and turning, snoring rising up from multiple spots in the hall, and all of her friends falling asleep, Avior is still wide awake. She is stubbornly denying the effect of tonight’s events and blames her being awake on the fact that she isn’t in her curtained bed like she should be. The hushed theories of her peers, younger students and older ones echo in her mind, despite her efforts to block it all out.

Avior screws her eyes shut tightly, pushing for it to stop, still it doesn’t. This is all too much, too much at once to handle on her own and she wishes she could be with her father. She has always been curious as to who Sirius was, the kind of person he was, and why he did what he did, but it is getting too close now. He is getting too close, literally. It terrifies her and not because of what he has done, but because of what could happen, of what he could do to ruin their family even further. In spite of that she still wonders selfishly if he misses them, her. If there is a fraction of him that is not all murder and cruelty, but a small part that cares for his family, that loves his own blood.

And as she looks to her right where Theodore is asleep, his hand now wrapped around her wrist loosely, she is reminded once more of how grateful she is to have him and her other friends. She wishes to talk to him, but she refuses to wake him up to feed her selfishness. So to smother it instead, Avior scoots just a little closer to him, to be soothed by his presence a tad bit more.

Knowing that none of this has anything to do with her, it is still hard to have started her fourth year this way. If only everything could be normal. Without being blamed for the escape of a mass murderer just because she happens to be related to him.

Avior hears shuffling and tilts her head back to look up, a head full of light blonde curls suddenly facing her before the person clears his throat. She almost rolls her eyes when she catches his stare and figures out who it is. Dark eyes, messy curls, and an unreadable face.

“Are you awake?” The boy whispers softly.

“No, Rosier, I’m not,” she huffs out sarcastically. Theodore’s fingers twitch around her wrist in his sleep.

Even with the darkness of the Great Hall and his wild hair, she can still catch the shadow of a small smile on Everett’s lips.

“Hi.”
She hears more shuffling and looks back at him.

“What do you want?”
Granted that she is curious to figure out why she so often catches him staring at her she is not quite in the mood to talk to him, especially when she would rather it be someone else. Still, she is grateful for the opportunity to distract her presenting itself.

“Just to talk. Is that a crime?”

Holding down a comment about how her father has committed a crime, she replies dismissively, “No, but I’m sleepy.”

“No you’re not,” he counters. “I could hear you tossing and turning.”

“Stalker much?” Avior inquires. She likes bothering anyone for that matter, but especially him, to keep him on his toes as he continues to stare without ever showing why.

His dark eyes twinkle at her words. They both know she is giving him a hard time, Everett loves it. Even in Potions, he’s always arguing with her. She is stubborn and relentless, he has never met someone as good in Potions as him — even better, though he would never admit that out loud. He sees how much more she loves Defense Against the Dark Arts this year. Her father is an excellent and respected professor. Everett sees the look of fondness displayed across his face when Avior does a task correctly. But he also sees that fatherly adoration shown to other students, no matter what House they are in and how they speak to the professor.

Professor Lupin is everything Everett wishes he still had, the love, the adoration, the protectiveness over his daughter. He isn’t the only one wishing for a father like that, or a father at all.

“So what?” Everett doesn’t even hide it. Normally if anyone else would ask —if the courage was even present— he would deny it right away, but not with her.

“Creepy... But I admire it. I’m quite the spectacle lately, aren’t I? Even beating ‘The Boy Who Lived’ for a change.” That makes the both of them snort.
Everett hears some quiet murmurs from behind him and waits until it’s quiet to speak again.
Getting straight to the point, he fires his first question.

“How do you feel about your father?”
Her eyes harden, though it isn’t visible in the absence of any light. She responds a split second later.

“Oh, I love him.” Avior smiles softly. Of course she loves Remus. There is nothing in the world that would ever make her love him less. He is a wonderful parent and it shows in her character and his teaching. Anyone can see it. Even through her traits that she has not inherited from him, it is obvious which ones she has.

Everett’s mouth falls into a small ‘O’. She is quite sure that he is asking about Sirius, but that is no father of hers.

“Are you scared of him? Of Sirius Black?”
Everett’s eyes shift over the features of her face. Avior has mastered the unreadable look, just as well as Everett has. It is a strength they both possess but hate in the other. Everett hates not being able to read her, and Avior hates that she can’t pry his brain in classes when she pushes his buttons.

“I fear nothing and no one.”
Her eyes are hard and Everett doesn’t doubt that. They are two sides of the same coin, slightly similar personalities but living different lives. Avior looks back at him, her head tilts as she waits for his next question, wondering what has him so curious and why he cares so much. It is the first time he has asked her anything like this. At fourteen, she’s never met someone that is so hot and cold at the same time.

“Would you want to meet him and talk to him? If so, what would you say?” The last one slips out past his lips softly. He knows he is walking too close to the edge of the flames with this one.

“Do you want my fist to meet your face?” Avior glares back at him, daring him to retort.

A small breath of laughter escapes past his teeth. Pride swells in his chest for some unknown reason. But his laughter is cut short when he is met with someone shushing him nearby. He turns to look back at her, him having a mischievous look in his eyes, while hers stare back angrily.

Everett lifts his arms up in surrender as Avior nods. “Thought so,” she tuts at him.

“Goodnight, Avior.” Everett buries himself back into the sleeping bag.

“Yes, goodnight to me.”
Avior grins to herself as she hears him sigh in defeat. Closing her eyes, the feelings she had previously felt diminish slightly thanks to the Slytherin boy and the outlet he granted her unknowingly. After a few more minutes of her playing with Theodore’s thumb, she falls asleep with the image of his scarf on her pillow in her mind.