Moments with Bree Collins

Author’s note: This is just a little something I wrote because I needed a break from my story Beast.       

The first time Remus Lupin noticed Bree Collins was on the Hogwarts express. It was a small encounter; just an accidental brush of shoulders and a polite excuse me. He vaguely recognized her face in his class of seventh years, but thought nothing about it.

'''''''''

                Her boggart hadn’t particularly stood out to him. She saw the body of her mother crumpled on the ground dead—disturbing but not uncommon. He was a bit impressed that she managed to beat it (most children couldn’t handle the sight. She made it jump up and start cussing about tripping and spilling ketchup all over her new dress) but gave it no more thought.

                It wasn’t until she turned in her first essay that he realized the girl was special. Instead of turning in a cookie-cutter, textbook outlined paper on how to defend against Red-throated Zulots, she turned in a brilliant paper elaborating on the points she felt the book was mistaken in and based off other research what better methods may be. Most shocking though was the way the paper read; it was so eloquently crafted that Remus forgot he was reading a student essay.

                When he handed back papers to the class, he locked eyes with Bree. She held her chin up high, not defiant but proud. ‘Go ahead, give me a T’ her stance seemed to say. ‘I wrote a bloody brilliant paper and no grade can change that.’

                He smiled, watching her closely as he handed over her O paper, complete with handwritten notes critiquing her proposed techniques and underlining those he thought would work. Her answering look wasn’t one of pride or happiness: it was one of understanding.

                ‘You get it,’ her eyes said. She leaned back in her chair lazily and gave him a nod. ‘I approve of you teaching me.’

                Later Remus would laugh and tell himself that he’d imagined it—no one could be that expressive without talking—but as the year went on he had to admit that maybe Bree Collins could.

'''''''''''''

                He remembered waking up after a transformation in the hospital to a bag of chocolate sitting beside him for the first time since his school days. Madam Pompfrey smilled at him. “A student dropped it by,” she explained.

                Remus shook his head. “No students are supposed to see me.”

                “She didn’t. The girl came up to me and said that if you were sick I must be hiding you somewhere, so I might as well deliver the chocolate to you. It was like trying to argue with a lawyer,” she chuckled.

                Remus gingerly picked up the chocolate. Spying a small note, he quickly opened it. It read: Professor, I know you have a chocolate fetish (you pop Hershey kisses more than druggies pop pills) so I figured you might like this. Before you interpret this perfectly innocent gesture as something creepy, let’s just call it my way of thanking you for not failing me. Much thanks—Bree Collins.

                Remus smiled shaking his head. That girl… It made him feel warm, knowing that he was a good enough teacher that a student cared about his well-being.

                He never mentioned the chocolate to Miss Collins, but he received a new package after each full moon.

''''''''''''''''''

                She came into his office one day about half way through the year. It wasn’t uncommon for her to show up (she liked to discuss points he’d said in class and comments he’d made on her essays), but she was looking unusually nervous. He frowned, setting his book down worriedly. Nerves were not something to be seen on Miss Collin’s face. “Can I help you?”