Miss Quinn

60 ~ The Dementor

Emma woke early on September 1st. She dressed in jeans and a comfy sweater, and pulled on her Converse. She ate breakfast, brushed her teeth, put her hair in a braid, and sat on the couch until her mum was ready to go.

They apparated to Kings Cross, and Emma loaded her luggage onto a cart. Shadow's cage sat on top, with the sleeping owl inside. They made their way to the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Beatrice took Emma's cart and leaned against the barrier. Emma did the same.

In a moment, they had fallen sideways through the solid metal onto platform nine and three-quarters and looked up to see the Hogwarts Express, a scarlet steam engine, puffing smoke over a platform packed with witches and wizards seeing their children onto the train.

Emma hugged her mum goodbye, took her luggage cart, and hurried through the crowd to find her friends. The Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione stood by one of the last train cars. Emma made her way over to them.

"Hey, guys," Emma said. Her friends looked up and smiled.

"Hullo, Emma," Harry said. She hugged each of them in turn. Then, Arthur Weasley took Harry away to talk. Emma, Hermione, and Ron went into the train car. Emma set her trunk and Shadow's cage in the corridor next to her friends'. Venus showed up a moment later and waited with them.

There was a loud whistle. Guards were walking along the train, slamming all the doors shut.

Steam was billowing from the train it had started to move. Harry ran to the train car door and Ron threw it open and stood back to let him on. They leaned out of the window and waved at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley until the train turned a corner and blocked them from view.

"I need to talk to you in private," Harry muttered to Ron, Emma, Venus, and Hermione as the train picked up speed.

They set off down the corridor, looking for an empty compartment, but all were full except for the one at the very end of the train.

It had only one occupant, a man sitting fast asleep next to the window. The Hogwarts Express was usually reserved for students and they had never seen an adult there before, except for the witch who pushed the food cart.

The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard's robes that had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though quite young, his light brown hair was flecked with gray.

"Who d'you reckon he is?" Ron hissed as they stowed their luggage and sat down and slid the door shut, taking the seats farthest away from the window.

"Professor R. J. Lupin." whispered Hermione at once.

"How'd you know that?"

"It's on his case," she replied, pointing at the luggage rack over the man's head, where there was a small, battered case held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string. The name Professor R. J. Lupin was stamped across one corner in peeling letters.

"Wonder what he teaches?" said Ron, frowning at Professor Lupin's pallid profile.

"That's obvious," whispered Hermione. "There's only one vacancy, isn't there? Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Emma, Venus, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had already had two Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, both of whom had lasted only one year. There were rumors that the job was jinxed.

"Well, I hope he's up to it," said Ron doubtfully. "He looks like one, good hex would finish him off, doesn't he? Anyway...." he turned to Harry, "what were you going to tell us?"