𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝; 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡.𝐩

𝓨𝓮𝓪𝓻 3, 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 10: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓾𝓭𝓮𝓻'𝓼 𝓜𝓪𝓹

"It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he give us homework?"

"We don't know anything about werewolves—"

"—two rolls of parchment!"

"Did you tell Professor Snape we haven't covered them yet?" Lupin asked, frowning slightly.

The babble broke out again.

"Yes, but he said we were really behind—"

"—he wouldn't listen—"

"—two rolls of parchment!"

Professor Lupin smiled at the look of indignation on every face.

"Don't worry. I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay."

"Oh, no," said Hermione, looking very disappointed. "I've already finished it!"

They had a very enjoyable lesson. Professor Lupin had brought along a glass box containing a hinkypunk, a little one-legged creature who looked as though he were made of wisps of smoke, rather frail and harmless looking.

"Lures travelers into bogs," said Professor Lupin as they took notes. "You notice the lantern dangling from his hand? Hops ahead—people follow the light—then—"

The hinkypunk made a hrrobiel squelching noise against the glass.

When the bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door, Y/N among them, but—

"Wait a moment, Y/N," Lupin called. "I'd like a word."

"I'll wait for you outside," said Harry.

Y/N nodded, then doubled back to watch Professor Lupin cover the hinkypunk's box with a cloth.

"I heard about the match," said Lupin, turning back to his desk and starting to pile books into his briefcase, "and I'm sorry about your broomstick. Is there any chance of fixing it?"

"No," said Y/N. "The tree smashed it to bits. Harry's is fine, though, so that's good," she added, trying to be optimistic.

Lupin sighed.

"They planted the Whomping Willow the same year I arrived at Hogwarts. People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk. In the end, a boy called Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it. No broomstick would have a chance."

"Did you hear about the dementors too?" said Y/N with difficulty.

Lupin looked at her quickly.

"Yes, I did. I don't think any of us have seen Professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been growing restless for some time . . . furious at his refusal to let them inside the grounds. . . . I suppose they were the reason why you and Harry fell?"

"Yes," said Y/N. She hesitated, and then the question she had to ask burst from her before she could control herself. "Why? Why do they affect us like that? Are we just—?"

"It has nothing to do with weakness," said Professor Lupin sharply, as though he had read her mind. "The dementors affect you and Harry worse than the others because there are horrors in your pasts that the others don't have."

A ray of wintery sunlight fell across the classroom, illuminating Lupon's gray hairs and the lines on his young face.

"Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. Even a Muggles feel their presence, though they can't see them. Get too close to a dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself. . . soulless and evil. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that happened to you and Harry, Y/N, is enough to make anyone fall off their brooms. You have nothing you feel ashamed of."