The Cracks in my Armor
After that night, Lupin settles into life as a true werewolf with amazing ease and even if nothing else in this final mission timeline goes right, I’ll have this one thing to fall back on to prove it’d been worth it. Without the essence of a presumed ‘curse’ haunting his psyche, Lupin proves an enjoyable packmate, a compassionate friend and a popular teacher, well liked and respected the whole school over.
So, needless to say, Snape seems to hate him even more than he had before, which is frustrating because they’re both my friends and I like to see my friends happy. Or, at least, not permanently between pissy and gloomy. So, after I see Tonks and Lupin covertly checking each other out, I see my next personal mission to sate my inner closet romantic.
***
“I just... don’t get it,” Tonks admits while we walk the inner-border of the school grounds back toward the school. “Even besides his past, Snape’s just so... grumpy.”
“Most of the best people I know have a past they’re not proud of,” I say lightly. “And Moody’s grouchy too. Snape’s... like an onion,” I offer, shrugging.
“He overwhelms with his odor and makes people cry?” Tonks suggests, lips twitching up playfully.
I snort and roll my eyes. “Noooo, but he’s got layers. What you see isn’t all there is. And I’ve got a knack for seeing through layers.”
“Everyone has layers,” she counters, then side-eyes me slyly, her hair tinging a little pink. “Like Remus.”
Ahh, perfect opener.
I smirk at her knowingly.
“What?” She demands, hair tinting yellow with mild embarrassment.
I let my smirk grow, but let its softness show through.
“Oh my god, don’t tell him please?!” Her hair now looks like a spiky lemon drop and despite my dislike of yellow, it’s still sort of adorable.
“Do you think I’ll have to?” I ask, offering a soft smile. “He’s pretty observant.”
She droops a little. “Sometimes I hate my hair,” she mutters, squinting in concentration and then it’s blond again and I sigh, bumping my shoulder against her arm.
“Well, we are at a school," I point out. "I’d say... maybe you should take this opportunity to learn,” I suggest, biting my inner cheek while she radiates confusion back at me. “To... observe.”
Now she scowls, shoulders tucking in a little. “I know how to observe," she argues sulkily. "It’s part of my job. Observing.”
I hum as we near the gates where the other Auror is meeting her having just escaped from the pub himself and heading this way. “Learn to observe like Lupin does, then.” At her baffled look, I smirk again. “And then you’d observe... how it's possible he’s been observing you right back.”
***
I have it on good authority that Lupin was in Gryffindor (and therefore capable of Gryffindor bravery), but it’s a bit hard to tell with how he’s been dodging Tonks (but not quite fleeing the scene) when she’s here (for the third time this week) while he's also spying on her from around corners and (as he is now) peeking over stair railings. Me, being me, shadow blink in beside him where he’s covertly watching her from one of the upper staircases.
“See something you like?” I whisper the second I’m there and he jumps like a spooked cat while I grin back, dimples and all.
“Please don’t do that,” he mutters, wolf eyes flashing lightly, but if anything, that makes it all the more obvious because his wolf is all but rolling its eyes and muttering about ridiculous humans not appreciating the hunt for a companion like they ought to be.
“I make no promises,” I say bluntly, then lean around him to peek down at Tonks nodding along with whatever McGonagall is saying and Lupin rumbles annoyance under his breath, tugging me back, then ushering me off the stairs and into a silent hallway, presumably to take the long way back to his classroom rather than cutting through the front hall and I huff and roll my eyes. “I know for a fact she’s not that scary.”
“Don’t,” he repeats, hackles mildly raised just under the surface while he quickens his steps a bit. “Just—“
“Well, what if it’s reciprocal?” I demand softly, catching him by the arm of his robe, slowing him to a stop. “She’s easily one of my ten favorite people in this reality. If it were any more my business, I’d totally approve,” I sigh, hopeful.
“‘Any more’?” He repeats, now looking pretty defensive under his (seriously, so cute) shy embarrassment and I wince at my own wording, then try again.
"You're a part of my pack," I say simply. "And she's well on her way to being a part of it, too." I give him my best pound puppy look. "And I want my pack to be happy."
This time, he flinches. "Please— let this go?”
I don’t stop him when he scurries off, now radiating a dull kind of misery I can honestly smell as well as feel. I'd thought this would be easier. I turn to go and, so caught up in my head, hadn’t realized there were now people surrounding me as they begin emerging from the woodwork to head towards dinner, a flash of dark hair in a side corridor shows Snape vanishing ‘away’ too, looking grumpier than usual. I hurry that way to catch up, but he’s out of sight before I even turn the corner and it leaves me wondering if it’s something I’ve done, which is dumb. I haven't done anything wrong... have I?
I huff out a sigh, slump, then hear Annie’s bright laugh and head her way instead, smiling shyly (and boy is that getting old by now) and let her reel me into another conversation about whether or not ‘cute’ factors into quidditch captain requirements. (The argument could easily be won if Annie ever remembered the Slytherin team Captain, who looks like he's genuinely part troll.)
***
Two days later, I catch Lupin at it again, but this time his opening scowl makes it clear I need to keep my distance. Or keep my opinions to myself. Or both, more likely, and it stings a bit to be warned off. It also baffles me. Does he think that being a werewolf makes him unworthy of being happy? That thought all on it’s own has me scowling at everyone and everything for the next hour, then twice so when Fudge, Umbridge and an Auror I don’t recognize creep in through the main entry to find Dumbledore and no doubt hope to find me too. The next two hours of my life I spend avoiding nearly everyone and miss dinner entirely, though I don't have much of an appetite anyway. (The elves, having gotten a castle-sent message, had set aside a plate of all my favorites and let me eat with all of them, catching up on elf gossip before I slumped off to bed early.)
***
Three days later, Tonks has apparently timed it just right to be able to join the staff for dinner and I spy from the Hufflepuff table to see Lupin almost forcibly snagged into joining her, though he (rudely but looking apologetic) only stays fifteen minutes after he sees me watching with a small and encouraging smile before he’s vanishing back to his rooms, leaving Tonks looking unhappy and me scowling again. From his spot near the end of the staff table, Snape watches the entire odd show with a dark expression I try not to decipher. This whole thing is beyond frustrating.
***
The next day, Fudge and Umbridge are back again, which I'm pretty sure I already knew even before the castle tripped me in the hall just in time to not be caught by the pair, but the second I set eyes on Umbridge, that background buzzing in my head swells just hard and fast enough to have me dizzily slumping into a wall, then stumbling in through the first door I find, just to get a little more distance.
"Have you come to make fun of me too?" Myrtle sniffs from behind the door to her stall but I'm too busy (trying to mentally locate which vein in my nose is leaking because wow, it's kinda spouting this time) to answer. Then she sticks her head through with her signature pouting scowl and spots me. "You again!" She nearly squeals, floating closer and her almost cheerful smile falls. "With another nosebleed. It might be time to visit the nurse," she advises, squinting at my nose from a foot away like she can see the problem if she's close enough. (Maybe she can? I've never asked.)
"Nah," I refute, finally locating-- yikes. Yeah, this time it's more of a tear in the vessel rather than a puncture, but now found... annnnd fixed. "Just needed to escape the toad-like source of my pain," I offer, shrugging. "How did you like the book?" I ask, smiling as much as I can with my brain still buzzing, though it's finally receding the further away the toad gets. "There's a sequel, you know."
I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who will ever see Myrtle this giddy and dare I say— happy.
"Really?!" She demands, suddenly nose to nose with me, like that'll rattle it out of me quicker. "I can't wait," she gushes, suddenly yanking herself back to spin and hug herself (which I appreciate, so long as she doesn't hug me again-- it feels freaky weird) and shimmy with joy. "It's just— Bella reminds me sooo much of me! And Edward, ohhhh," she groan-swoons, in a mostly hormone-induced-sounding way. "He's free to stalk me annnnytime!"
I chuff out a smile and sling off my bag to magic up a blank book, then (yay magic memory!) fill it with the next of the Twilight series, then spell it to turn the pages on command and prop it up on the toilet tank in the next stall down from the first.
"Fair warning, though," I sigh. "This one's pretty sad in some parts, but it ends well."
"You.... are.... amazing," she rasps, drifting half through my shoulder on her way into the stall and I hold back a shudder and again wonder why no one's ever offered her some kind of entertainment before now. There's no moaning when she's too busy squeeing over teenage romance.
"I know, I know," I sigh teasingly. "I'll try to stop by again soon, 'kay?"
I get a lovelorn sigh for an answer, but good deed done, I peek back into the hall, then duck back in quick when it's Fudge standing there with Dumbledore, both facing away and speaking in low voices with no Umbridge in sight, which is almost as worrying. Crap. Will knocking my way out alert them?
"Castle? I need a new door, please? To... uh..." my head buzzes a little harder and I'm not sure which classrooms are even available. "As far from Umbridge as possible," I wheeze, my head spinning again. This time, I spill through a doorway and onto a rough wooden floor, a cozy fire and freedom, head clearing almost instantly. I sigh with relief two seconds before Fang knocks me flat to slather me with joyous kisses while Hagrid's bushy eyebrows rise high as he peers back over his shoulder from where he's stirring something fragrant and tasty-smelling over the fire.
"She's back then?" Hagrid asks somberly, nodding when I raise my arm above the mass of joyous dog to give him a thumbs up rather than risking opening my mouth until Fang's done greeting me, who then just flops down on top of me as if to keep me safely put. I wheeze out an 'oof', but then just scratch his ears because my head feels sooooo much better now and 11 or not, I'm sturdy enough to take the weight. "Well," Hagrid huffs, straightening from his hearth, cauldron of stew in hand, "you'd best stay for dinner then."
Hagrid is all the proof needed that awesome comes in all shapes and sizes.
***
Two days after that, I arrive for Snape’s usual ‘after-class’ hour for students to come with potions problems they have difficulty with (I’ve yet to see a single non-Slytherin student besides myself dare to show their face in Snape’s for such a purpose) and find the classroom empty and his office locked and set to privacy mode. It feels a bit (a damned lot) like a brush off and that alone kills my mood for the rest of my day.
***
I spend half of my Saturday avoiding Fudge and Umbridge, which is a shame since it’s Tonks who’d accompanied them this time and they seem to be almost stalking Snape now in an effort to catch up with me, which is putting Snape in a worse and worse mood and I can’t quite bring myself to deal with the Ministry, so I’m forced to avoid him too. I spend the remains of that day in the Room of Requirement using some of my past-learned martial arts skill sparring with attack dummies equal my own skill just to vent my frustration to the world at large, but I'm sweating and gasping by the time I’m done and feeling unduly satisfied by the large pile of used dummies I’d pummeled to literal pieces. I skip dinner entirely, too tired to even bother with more than spelling myself clean before I collapse into bed.
The Ministry is now officially annoying me.
Sunday begins feeling too much like Saturday when Fudge, Umbridge and an unnamed Auror show bright and early to track me down, which might be why Snape’s also locked himself away for the day in the privacy of his office again, all but vacating the premises entirely. That sounds like an equally good idea and I claim a spot in the far, far back of the library until a third-year Hufflepuff, confused and excited, somehow finds me to tell me the Minister’s waiting outside the Hufflepuff common room for me and that’s it, all done. I thank him, book it outside and owl-fly my way to the owlery to spend the rest of the day napping with the sleepy and confused congress already there. (I leave them all a bowl of owl treats for their patience.)
By the time dinner rolls around, I’m in too much of a funk to even think of human company and go to bed three hours early, but broken sleep and increasingly disturbing dreams wake me over and over and by morning, I may as well not have slept at all. I feel like a coward for avoiding the (Umbridge) Ministry issue like I am but until I’ve got a better plan than ‘wing it’, I’m a little lost on what to do and fate's not offering any clues yet. It’s past-time I work on backup plans for potential disasters headed this way.
“I have meetings,” Snape grumps testily as I stride in during his open-office hour on Monday, but since he’s actually saying ‘I could have meetings and am determined to remain on my pissy streak, so it’s not a good time’, I just jerk a wordless nod and unlock my staircase while he splutters his annoyed surprise behind me, half following me into his office— and steps on flooring instead of stairs (because I can be pissy and petty too, damn it). I hear him call my name once, but I’ve already shadow-blinked my way to the bottom, gladly sinking into my one-track mind mindset, firmly ignoring a hushed giggle from beneath a painting cover as I pass it.
‘Come and plaaaaaaaay!’ That small voice whispers, the faintest growling hiss beneath the words. I blame that for slamming the lab door shut hard enough to nearly crack it, but I soon settle into the calming routines of potions, only stumbling back to my bed at two in the morning. Again, I wake up feeling worse than before I’d fallen asleep.
The next day is no different, other than Flitwick side-eyeing me with more than a smidge of worry, McGonagall openly watching me like a hawk and Annie trying (and failing) to catch me in the hallways and the common room until I tweak my glamor makeover to keep everyone from worrying. Beyond being a stressed out emo tween (twice in one lifetime is just cruel, seriously), I’m not even sure why I’m now avoiding everyone else, but I play tiny cricket hidden in the dungeon shadows until Snape finally leaves his class for dinner, then slip my way in and back down to my lab. When the painting shades try to lure me in again, I mute them all, lock my doors (even unnecessary, it makes me feel better) and get to work. By the time I make it to bed, I’m really not feeling well.
***
The next week is so alike to the last, I keep having to stop and check details to make sure I'm not stuck in some weird Groundhog Day scenario, but no, the Ministry's still causing me (literal) pain and annoying everyone, and once Fudge learns how often I visit (read: hide in) the kitchens, he begins badgering the house elves too. They haven't asked me to stop coming by, but they're also not all that welcoming for more than a minute or two anymore (with the sole exception of Trixler, the kitchen night elf who plies me with comfort cocoa and the best cookies in any reality, ever). I can take a hint, though it admittedly hurts a bit. (The regular application of cocoa and cookies almost makes up for it... almost.)
(This can't last forever.)
***
Somehow, Fudge and Umbridge have learned that I'm semi-close (or was) to Lupin too and are now hounding his off-hours as well and I'd feel worse about it, but he's been pretty good about hiding himself from them (and Tonks) (and me) so far, and is soon following Snape's fine example of locking himself away in his class office with the privacy mode engaged when he needs an easy escape.
With the ever-recurring Ministry visits, all the other school staff are beginning to grump at me like all of it's all my fault alone and the whole situation is just-- stupid, honestly. I'm tempted to make my most potent notice-me-not that would have everyone forgetting me for a week solid, but can't quite talk myself into it, no matter how much of a break we could all use.
***
I skip classes the next day entirely, but have the castle deliver notes to Dumbledore and my assigned teachers proclaiming an honest 'headache' and one to Pomfrey stating that I'm off brewing a new pain killer that will hopefully work on me (we've tested all hers and not a one works for longer than a few minutes), so when Snape finally abandons his class for lunch, I'm back down in the privacy and solace of my lab, this time stewing up a dragon-grade painkiller that sadly, won't be done for a full week, then brew up a mega-batch of half-life liquid luck for potential emergency evacuations for both students and staff.
(It's a long shot they'll ever be needed, but better safe than sorry, right?)
(Or maybe my wistful, day-dreamy thoughts of fleeing are finally leaking out into the rest of my life.)
(But only maybe.)
***
Thanks to a very early castle warning, I'm out of my dorm and back in my apartment just after dawn the next Saturday, but the buzzing of my head barely lessens at all and by noon, my headache has reached nosebleed levels of migraine awful and I all but pass out at my desk, miserably watching my not-quite-ready pain killer continue it's slow brew and don't wake up again until Sunday as a murder scene-worthy bloody mess with three separate Patronuses (Dumbledore, McGonagall and Moody) all scowling at me and refusing to leave until I do. I send Dumbledore a note to explain the headache and promise I'll be in my own bed after sunset. I half-snooze more comfortably after the Patronuses all reluctantly leave.
As an 'iffy' extra, I use my remaining time to work up a wearable charm that's half notice-me-not, but with a fun little quirk of being a mostly-there charm to prove I'm attending classes, but won't be seen or even remembered much until after I'm already gone. It gives me a another relatively long (if admittedly a little lonely) week mostly to myself.
After spying Lupin and Snape having a somewhat intense and frowny conversation near the dungeon hallway while both smelling faintly of guilt, I'm pretty sure that's why Snape's now changed tactics to nearly always be in his open, unlocked office barring mealtimes. Then I'm forced into sneaking back to my lab at night to check on my potions and finally (hallelujah!) mini-bottle a full fifty doses of extra, Extra, EXTRA strength Pain Be Gone, each good for twelve hours or so, hopefully.
If I could work up a Pain In The Ass Be Gone for my Umbridge problem, I'd be fantastic.
But, even finally thinking a bit clearer with a less achy head, I'm still in just enough of a funk that I don't quite know when my charm vanished or to where, but once again fully visible, Snape doesn't hesitate to take advantage.