fatal love

chapter 136

The February full moon came and went quietly, with no incidents reported in the Prophet. The lingering danger was still present, though, and while the build-ups to full moons had always been hard for Remus physically, Sirius could see they were now taking their toll mentally as well.

Meanwhile, more and more people were figuring out how to cast the patronus. It was feeling suspicious now, how long the professor had spent on this. At least one lesson a week in Defence was still being dedicated to learning how to cast one, even though they'd all been trying since before Christmas. Sirius didn't know why the professor thought it was such an important skill; a bit of extra time, sure, that seemed sensible with all the increases in dementors that Minchum was pushing through. But it had been months now, and any other professor would have moved on long ago.

Marlene had managed it the other day - her animal was a leopard, and it was certifiably terrifying, but Sirius had to admit that it suited her. Remus had succeeded in casting a non-corporeal charm, which was still impressive, especially to Sirius, who was still struggling to get more than a trickle of silver.

Instead of trying harder, he'd effectively given up at this point. He'd never had to work so hard to master any other spell or potion, and had come to the conclusion that if he wasn't able to do it by now, then he'd never be able to. Learning the Patronus Charm was stupid anyway - it was only really useful against dementors, and he'd never have any reason to be around a dementor anyway. So he bunked off Defence even more than his other lessons, to avoid the embarrassment of having to try and fail over and over again. Remus was becoming increasingly disapproving of his nonchalant attitude towards school, and admittedly he had more detentions now than he could ever remember having, but fuck it. Detentions hadn't been a deterrent for him when he was eleven and was used to getting the Lacero, and they definitely weren't a deterrent now, after the Imperios and Crucios and everything else.

Like his younger self used to say, if the punishment didn't leave him bloody, then he didn't really care. And everything was feeling rather pointless at the moment. Whatever happened or didn't happen over the next few months, come July he'd leave Hogwarts and join the Order. That certainty sucked up any remaining motivation he might have had.

As February faded into March, and the days started to get longer once again, conversations about the future became more common amongst the Seventh Years. News of a Death Eater strike in Falmouth broke on the fourth, and it upset a lot of the First and Second Years. Lily, of course, saw it as her job to comfort them, and was flitting around the Common Room hurriedly, offering hugs and chocolate, as the rest of them huddled themselves into a corner, whispering discreetly. This had become the normal way of dealing with any particularly bad news recently - Lily would obsessively mother every child she could find, while James would share any information he had from Dumbledore, and the Seventh Years would debate what could be done, keeping out of earshot of everyone else.

"Benjy told me that the Prophet's under-reporting deaths," Sirius murmured, "the Ministry doesn't want to look weak."

Marlene pulled a face. "There were eleven deaths today! Are you telling me it's actually more?"

"It is," James said grimly, "I spoke to Dumbledore, apparently it was more like thirty. That includes two from the Order. One of them was Alfred Wimbley, remember him? He was a Prefect when we were younger."

Mary nodded sadly, and everyone was silent for a moment.

"Fuck," Remus cursed, "how many people does Dumbledore even have left?"

"Not many," James said, "but when the seven of us join, plus Florence and maybe Ariston, it should lessen the strain a little. Hopefully."

Sirius noticed a group of Third Years getting a bit too close for comfort, and cast a Silencing Charm. They didn't need to hear this.