Bullet in the Heart - Professor Lupin

pinky promise

Summary of previous chapter: I love you but no fucking way 

May notices Iris is upset after coming back from her talk with Snape and asks to speak with her. They fight intently as Iris refuses to speak about her problems and becomes continuously more upset when May brings up personal and triggering topics such as her struggles with eating. After the fight Iris feels defeated and wants to hurt herself. This she does. 

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I spent the rest of the day sleeping and woke up on Sunday morning to an empty dorm. The room was a mess but the beds were empty. I checked the rusty clock that hung above the bathroom door, it was already 12:16pm. I guessed that the others had headed off to Hogsmeade for lunch and a bit of tuck shopping. It was no surprise to me that May hadn't woken me up given our intense fight last night and I'm sure Charlie didn't want to interfere. I layed in bed for a while staring at the ceiling, thinking. After a while I heaved myself out of bed and to the bathroom. There was still a few stray specks of blood spotting the floor and I hoped the others had just thought I had a nosebleed. I leaned over the sink and studied my weak face in the blurred mirror. I wasn't the same, I looked exhausted, my eye bags hadn't recovered in days and left over make up was spread across my wet eyes and down my dry cheeks. I tried to find myself as I stared into my eyes deeply but it was impossible. There was nothing to see but disappointment. A tear slowly trickled down my left cheek, I quickly wiped it away with my pyjama sleeve, a bit of red had leaked through it. 

As everyone was off at Hogsmeade I headed off to the library to get the homework done  I was supposed to do yesterday. I stayed in my PJ's but threw on an old hoodie that Tom had given me last year from a Quidditch match he had gone to. It was worn out, the sleeves were falling apart at the hem and the words printed on the front were peeling off letter by letter. I reached the library. The room was unsurprisingly rather empty, it was mostly filled with first to third years browsing the long shelves for books on unknown magic which they could only get a hold of on Sundays when Madam Prince wasn't stalking the restricted section. I remember doing that in second year with Pucey when we were still friends. The library brought back a stream of memories when life was a little simpler, when we were studying for O.W.L.S and drinking gallons of pumpkin juice until late hours into the night. The library was one of my favourite places to be, it was quiet so you could think but also interesting if you wanted it to be. My favourite thing to do was to sit in the far corner on the old brown leather couch, from there you had a view of all the desks and could watch all sorts of students fret about exams, complain about boys and discuss the new forbidden spells they had found.  

Of course I ended up doing absolutely no work and just sit and watch the other students do their thing, worry free. After about two hours all the students headed for the great hall for tea and cakes, it was special treat on weekends (especially for those who weren't allowed to go to Hogsmeade, this year that was a large amount as many parents worried about Black lurking around). I didn't want to be seen completely alone in the library so I grabbed my un-used books and quill and strutted off to the grounds. The sun was setting slowly as it always does in November. It wasn't too cold and I gathered I still had a little time before it was completely dark and I risked getting another detention. I wondered the grounds and decided to make my way to the old playground behind the Whomping Willow. The playground was technically out of bounds but all the smokers went there in lunch breaks to have a quick fag before returning back to class. Just to my luck the ground was empty and peaceful. The blackbirds sung solemnly from the trees behind me. My feet steered towards the swing set, I dropped and sat myself down. I could feel the unsteadiness of the structure so I stuck to sitting instead of swinging. 

"Watch out they can be quite dangerous those", there he was again, the Professor. He was perched on top of the slide, book in one hand and cup of tea in the other, I always wondered how he constantly had tea with him - as if it were glued to his hand. He wasn't in his usual teaching attire but in a light brown button up shirt covered with a thick grey cardigan. His overcoat hung over the side of the slide, dangling just above the wet ground. How did I not see him?