Chapter 8: Hogsmeade, Tea, and Conversations
It was now October and Defense Against the Dark Arts had become most people's favorite class. Only Draco Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins had anything bad to say about Professor Lupin. Malfoy would make fun of Lupin's tattered, old robes in a loud whisper as Professor Lupin passed by.
But no else cared that Professor Lupin's robes were patched and frayed. It seemed the next lessons were just as interesting as the first. After boggarts, they studied Red Caps, nasty little goblin like creatures that lurked wherever there had been bloodshed. From Red Caps they moved on to kappas, creepy water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.
If only all their classes could've been as exciting as their Defense class. Potions was miserable as ever. Snape had heard of Neville's boggart and it was obvious he didn't find it funny. Snape's eyes would flash menacingly at the mention of Professor Lupin and he was bullying Neville worse than ever.
Claire and Harry were beginning to dread the hours they spent in Professor Trelawney's stifling tower room, deciphering lopsided shapes and symbols, trying to ignore the way Professor Trelawney's enormous eyes filled with tears every time she looked at them. They couldn't like Trelawney, even though she was treated with respect bordering reverence by many of the class. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown had taken to visiting Trelawney's tower room at lunchtimes, and always returned with annoyingly superior looks on their faces, as though they knew things the others didn't. They would speak in hushed voices whenever they spoke to Claire and Harry, as though they were on their deathbed.
Nobody really liked Care of Magical Creatures, which, after the action-packed first class, had become dull. Hagrid seemed to have lost his confidence. They were now spending their lessons learning how to look after flobberworms, which had to be some of the most boring creatures in existence.
"Why would anyone bother looking after them?" Ron said, after yet another hour of poking shredded lettuce down the flobberworm's slimy throats.
The bell rang and they handed in the flobberworms.
"Thank Merlin the bell rang," Claire said. "I don't know how much longer I can take of that class. If Malfoy hadn't of gotten hurt, I bet we'd be having as much fun in that class as Defense."
"Yea, but Malfoy just had to go and mess up things," Ron muttered.
They walked to the Gryffindor common room. Once they were sitting in the common room, Fred and George, who were dressed in their Quidditch gear, came over to them. Harry, who realized he was sitting a bit close to Claire, moved a few inches away from her hoping the twins weren't coming over to scold him about being so close to her.
"There you are, Harry," Fred began.
"Wood scheduled a Quidditch practice for today." George finished.
"Oh, er—thanks," Harry said, relieved.
Harry disappeared upstairs to get his Quidditch gear. Fred and George followed Harry.
"So, what should we do while Harry's at practice?" Claire asked Ron and Hermione.
"Homework. We haven't started that Muggle Studies assignment. It's due next Friday, you know." Hermione answered, pulling out her Muggle Studies book.
"Hermione, we were assigned it today. We have plenty of time." Claire said waving her hand dismissively.
"Maybe you do, but I certainly do not. I have multiple assignments I need to get done for each of my classes." Hermione said, looking stressed.
"Hermione," Claire began, "are you sure you don't want to drop some of your courses. I mean it's only been a month and I can see the stress getting to you already."
"Claire's right Hermione." Ron said. "Maybe you should drop a few classes."
"No," Hermione shook her head. "I'm fine. But I promise if I can't handle the pressure I will drop some of my courses, ok?"
While Harry was at Quidditch practice, Claire and Ron decided to play Wizards chess while Hermione was catching up with her schoolwork. It had only been twenty minutes since Harry had left for Quidditch practice when Professor McGonagall came through the portrait. She walked over to the bulletin board hanging up a piece of paper. The students in the common room sent curious looks towards the paper. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat before turning her attention to them.
"The first Hogsmeade trip date is now posted. I must remind you in order to attend you must have your permission slip signed by a parent or guardian and you must be in your third year. I will be collecting your slips the day of the trip."
When she left, the whole common room seemed to be buzzing with excitement as people went up to the bulletin board to find out the date. Claire, Ron, and Hermione went to go check out the dates.
"How exciting." Hermione said, reading the paper. "It's the end of this month on Halloween."
"Finally," Ron said. "Fred and George always brag about how fun it is. Now we'll get to see what all the buzz's about."
"Let me know how that goes," Claire said disappointed.
"Aren't you going?" Hermione asked.
Claire shook her head. "I tried to get Ron's parents to sign the permission slip and let's just say I don't think my eardrums will ever fully recover."
"Why won't they let you go?" Ron asked.
"Isn't it obvious, Ron?" Hermione said. She then whispered, "It's because of Sirius Black."
"So," Ron began, "it's not like he'd try something with all the people at Hogsmeade."
"It didn't stop him from murdering thirteen muggles in open air." Claire muttered.
Just then, the Gryffindor Quidditch team walked into the common room. Harry went over to Claire, Hermione, and Ron to see why everyone in the common room seemed to be excited.
"Hey, Harry," Claire greeted him.
"Hey," Harry said. "Why does everyone seem excited?"
Harry noticed that Claire seemed disappointed as Ron told him that Hogsmeade weekend was coming up.
"Excellent," Fred said, who had overheard their conversation. "I need to visit Zonko's. I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets."
"Oh," was all Harry said. "Hope you three have a good time."
"You're not going either?" Ron questioned.
"No, the Dursleys didn't sign my permission form." Harry answered gloomily. "And what do you mean that I'm not going either? Who else isn't going?"
"I can't go either." Claire said. "Ron's parents wouldn't sign my permission slip because of Black."
"Why don't you two try and get Professor McGonagall to sign it?" Ron suggested.
"Ron!" Hermione said. "They're supposed to stay in school."
"And besides the forms have to be signed by a parent or a guardian." Claire added.
Suddenly, Crookshanks leapt lightly onto Hermione's lap. A large, dead spider was dangling from his mouth.
"Does he have to eat that in front of us?" Ron said, scowling.
"I figured you'd be happy the cat chose to eat a spider instead of your rat." Claire teased.
"Clever Crookshanks, did you catch that all by yourself?" Hermione said.
Crookshanks slowly chewed up the spider, his yellow eyes fixed insolently on Ron. To Claire it looked like the cat was purposely trying to gross Ron out.
"Just keep him over there, that's all," Ron said irritably. "I've got Scabbers asleep in my bag."
"So, how was Quidditch practice?" Claire asked Harry.
"It was good—" Harry was cut off by Crookshanks pouncing on Ron's bag.
"OY!" Ron roared, seizing his bag as Crookshanks sank four sets of claws deep inside it and began tearing ferociously. "GET OFF, YOU STUPID ANIMAL!"
Ron tried to pull the bag from Crookshanks, but Crookshanks clung on, spitting and slashing.
"Ron, don't hurt him!" Hermione squealed; the whole common room was watching; Ron whirled the bag around, Crookshanks still clinging to it, and Scabbers came flying out of the top—
"CATCH THAT CAT!" Ron yelled as Crookshanks freed himself from the remnants of the bag, sprang over the table, and chased after the terrified Scabbers.
George Weasley made a lunge for Crookshanks but missed; Scabbers streaked through twenty pairs of legs and shot beneath an old chest of drawers. Crookshanks skidded to a halt, crouched low on his bandy legs, and started making furious swipes beneath it with his front paw.
Ron and Hermione hurried over; Hermione grabbed Crookshanks around the middle and heaved him away; Ron threw himself onto his stomach and, with great difficulty, pulled Scabbers out by the tail.
"Look at him!" he said furiously to Hermione, dangling Scabbers in front of her. "He's skin and bone! You keep that cat away from him!"
"Crookshanks doesn't understand it's wrong!" Hermione said, her voice shaking. "All cats chase rats, Ron!"
"There's something funny about that animal!" Ron said, who was trying to persuade a frantically wiggling Scabbers back into his pocket. "It heard me say that Scabbers was in my bag!"
"Oh, what rubbish," Hermione said impatiently. "Crookshanks could smell him, Ron, how else d'you think—"
"That cat's got it in for Scabbers!" Ron said, ignoring the people around him, who were starting to giggle. "And Scabbers was here first, and he's ill!"
Ron marched through the common room and out of sight up the stairs to the boys' dormitories. Hermione huffed grabbing her school bag and went up to the girls' dormitory muttering about Ron being an idiot. The common room went back to its normal chatter. Claire and Harry awkwardly sat next to each other not really sure what to do.
"So, um, I'm just gonna go upstairs." Claire said awkwardly, picking up her bag.
"Wait, Claire," Harry began. "Would you want to hang out on the day of Hogsmeade?"
"Sure, I mean we might as well keep each other company since most of the school will be gone." Claire said. "I'm gonna go check on Hermione and see if she's alright."
"Yea, I'd better go check on Ron, too," Harry said.
"Night, Harry," Claire said, sending him a small smile then went up to the girls' dormitory.
"Night, Claire," Harry made his way to the boys' dormitory feeling oddly happy.
The next day, Ron was still in a bad mood with Hermione. He barely talked to her all through Herbology, even though he, Claire, Harry, and Hermione were working together on the same puffapod. When Hermione asked how Scabbers was, Ron had said that he was at the bottom of his bed shaking.
Their next class was Transfiguration. While they were waiting outside the Transfiguration class with the rest of the students, they heard a disturbance at the front of the line.
Lavender Brown seemed to be crying. Parvati had her arm around her and was explaining something to Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were looking very serious.
"Are you alright, Lavender?" Claire asked anxiously as she, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went to join the group.
"She got a letter from home this morning," Parvati whispered. "It's her rabbit, Binky. He's been killed by a fox."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Claire said.
"I should have known!" Lavender said tragically. "You know what day it is?"
"Er—Friday?"
"The sixteenth of October! 'That thing you're dreading, it will happen on the sixteenth of October!' Remember? She was right, she was right!"
The whole class gathered around Lavender now. Claire wasn't really sure what to say. She thought that it was just a coincidence that her rabbit had died the same day Trelawney had predicted it would happen. However, Claire didn't want to upset Lavender any more by saying that.
"You—you were dreading Binky being killed by a fox?" Hermione said.
Claire nudged Hermione. "Hermione, don't."
"Well, not necessarily a fox," Lavender said, looking up at Hermione with steaming eyes, "but I was obviously dreading him dying, wasn't I?"
"Oh," Hermione said. "Was Binky an old rabbit?"
"N—no!" Lavender sobbed. "H—he was only a baby!"
Parvati tightened her arm around Lavender's shoulders.
"But then, why would you dread him dying?" Hermione said.
Parvati glared at her.
Really, Hermione? Claire thought annoyed.
"Well, look at it logically," Hermione said, turning to the rest of the group. "I mean, Binky didn't even die today, did he? Lavender just got the news today—" Lavender wailed loudly. "—and she can't have been dreading it, because it's come as a real shock—"
"Don't mind Hermione, Lavender," Ron said loudly, "she doesn't think other people's pets matter very much."
"Ron," Claire said in a warning tone.
Professor McGonagall opened the classroom door at that moment, which was perhaps lucky; Hermione and Ron were looking daggers at each other, and when they got into class, Hermione sat next to Claire and Ron sat next to Harry and didn't talk to each other for the whole class.
As the weeks passed, Claire and Harry had to endure everyone talking about Hogsmeade and what they were going to do first once they got there.
"There's always the feast," Ron said, in an effort to cheer Harry and Claire up. "You know, the Halloween feast, in the evening."
"Yeah," Harry said gloomily, "great."
"Of course, you would use food as an example to cheer us up," Claire muttered.
Ron glared at her while Hermione and Harry laughed.
On Halloween morning, Claire woke up and Hermione offered to stay with her.
"There'll be other Hogsmeade visits. I don't mind staying here." Hermione offered.
"It's fine, Hermione, really. Go and have fun. Besides Harry's staying too, so we'll keep each other company." Claire said
Hermione smiled knowingly.
"Ok, what's with that smile, Hermione? This is like the third or fourth time you've done that whenever I mention Harry." Claire questioned.
Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, muttering, "You really are clueless."
"What am I clueless about?" Claire asked.
Hermione shook her head. "Nevermind. Let's go down to breakfast."
Claire didn't object and they soon joined Harry and Ron at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.
"We'll bring you both lots of sweets back from Honeydukes," Hermione said.
"Yeah, loads," Ron said. Ron and Hermione had finally forgotten their squabble about Crookshanks.
"Don't worry about us," Claire said.
"Yea, we'll see you at the feast. Have a good time." Harry said.
Claire and Harry walked them to the entrance hall, where Professor McGonagall and Filch were standing inside the front doors, collecting permission forms. Claire and Harry waved goodbye as Ron and Hermione left for Hogsmeade.
"Hopefully, they won't fight," Claire said as she and Harry walked down one of the corridors.
"They seemed to have gotten along at breakfast." Harry said.
"Claire? Harry?" They both turned around and saw Professor Lupin.
"So," Professor Lupin began. "No Hogsmeade, eh?"
Claire and Harry followed Professor Lupin to his classroom. As they entered his classroom, they noticed a tank of water that housed a sickly green creature with sharp little horns.
"What's that?" Claire asked.
"A Grindylow. They're for our next lesson." Professor Lupin answered.
"A what?" Harry questioned.
"Water demon," Lupin said. "We shouldn't have much difficulty with him, not after the kappas. The trick is to break his grip. You notice the abnormally long fingers? Strong, but very brittle. Cup of tea?"
"All right," Harry said awkwardly while Claire nodded.
Lupin found a kettle and tapped it with his wand and a blast of steam issued suddenly from the sprout.
"Sit down," Lupin said, taking the lid off the dusty tin. "I've only got teabags, I'm afraid—but I daresay you've both had enough of tea leaves?"
Claire and Harry both stared at him.
"How did you know that?" Claire asked.
"Professor McGonagall told me," Lupin said, passing Claire a chipped mug of tea. "You're not worried, are you?" Lupin directed the last question to both of them.
Claire shook her head while Harry said, "No."
Claire noticed that Harry was hesitating to tell Lupin something. She suspected that it was about the dog he saw when he left the Dursleys or about his boggart. However, Lupin seemed to have suspected Harry wasn't telling him everything because he said, "Anything worrying you, Harry?"
"No," Harry lied. He drank a bit of tea. "Yes." Harry said suddenly, putting his tea down on Lupin's desk. "You know that day we fought the boggart?"
"Yes," Lupin said slowly.
"Why didn't you let me fight it?" Harry said abruptly.
"I would've thought that was obvious, Harry," Lupin said, sounding surprised. "I assumed that if the boggart faced you, it would've taken the shape of Lord Voldemort. Clearly, I was wrong. But I didn't think it a good idea for Lord Voldemort to materialize in the classroom. I imagined that people would panic."
"I didn't think of Voldemort," Harry said honestly. "I—I remembered those dementors."
"I see," Lupin said thoughtfully. "Well, well….I'm impressed. That suggests what you fear most of all is fear. Very wise, Harry."
"I was surprised you even feared anything, Harry." Claire said. "I mean you've taken on some pretty scary things the past few years."
Lupin looked at Claire. "Your boggart was an interesting one Claire. Those people were your parents, weren't they?"
"How'd you know?" Claire asked.
"I recognized the woman." Lupin said.
Claire was shocked. "You knew my mother?"
Lupin nodded. "You remind me of her. Your mother, Carina, was an extraordinary woman. She was truly a great friend."
"If you knew my mother, then that means you know that her brother—"
"Was Sirius Black?" Lupin's face hardened at the mention of his name. "Yes, I knew. I was once friends with him as well. Shows you that you never know who might stab you in the back."
"Did you know my father?" Claire asked.
Claire noticed that Lupin still seemed a bit angry but assumed he was still thinking about Black.
"John Smith. I did know him, yes. You're parents were very much in love." Lupin's face soften. "However, towards the end, after what happened to James and Lily and Sirius being put behind bars, your parents sort of lost contact they just said they were in some sort of danger and disappeared. I haven't spoken to them since before James and Lily's—" Lupin cut off looking melancholy.
Lupin looked at Harry.
"The first time I saw you, Harry, I recognized you immediately. Not by your scar. By your eyes. They're your mother Lily's. I knew her too. Lily and Carina were there for me at a time when no one else was. We used to talk for hours. They were both gifted witches and probably the nicest people you'd ever meet. However, Carina did have a bit of a temper. They seemed to see the beauty in all people, even—and perhaps most especially—when that person couldn't see it in themselves…" Lupin's eyes seemed to glaze in memory, then he blinked and smiled.
"Which perhaps explains why James fell for Lily and John fell for Carina. James had, shall we say, a certain talent for trouble. A gift, rumor has it, that has been passed on to you."
Harry smiled vaguely.
"What about my father?" Claire asked.
"To tell you the truth there isn't much to say about him," Lupin said, the hardening look on his face returning. "He was very unusual. He sort of turned up out of the blue one day and he fell for your mother like she did for him. I could tell you stories—and there are many about both of your parents—but know this they lived. Every moment of every day. You should know that. That's how they'd want to be remembered."
Claire and Harry both smiled at him happy to hear a little about their parents.
"And Claire," Lupin added. "Know you're parents loved you very much, especially Carina. They left you with the Weasleys for a good reason."
Before Claire could ask anything else, there was a knock on Professor Lupin's door and Snape came in carrying a goblet. Snape stopped at the sight of Harry and Claire, his black eyes narrowing specifically at Harry.
"Well," Snape sneered. "Off you two go."
Claire tugged on Harry's arm and they both exited the classroom. However, they saw Lupin take a sip from the goblet before they left. Claire and Harry both exchanged a look. What was in the goblet Snape made Lupin drink?
"There you go," Ron said. "We got as much as we could carry."
A shower of brilliantly colored sweets fell into Claire's and Harry's laps. It was dusk, and Ron and Hermione had just turned up in the common room, pink-faced from the cold wind and looking as though they'd had the time of their lives.
"Thanks," Claire thanked them, opening up her favorite, Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans. "What was Hogsmeade like?"
"It was brilliant." Ron said.
"Where did you go?" Harry asked, picking up a packet of tiny black Pepper Imps.
Ron and Hermione went on to tell them about Dervish and Banges, the wizarding equipment shop, Zonko's Joke Shop, the Three Broomsticks and its foaming mugs of hot butter beer, Honeydukes, and the post office.
"And what about you two?" Hermione asked. "Did you get any work done?"
"No," Harry said.
"We visited Lupin in his office. He made us a cup of tea." Claire said.
"And then Snape came in…."
Harry told them all about the goblet. Ron's mouth fell open.
"Lupin drank it?" he gasped. "Is he mad?"
Hermione checked her watch.
"We'd better go down, you know, the feast'll be starting in five minutes…." They hurried through the portrait hole and into the crowd, still discussing Snape.
"But if he—you know"—Hermione dropped her voice, glancing nervously around—"if he was trying to—to poison Lupin—he wouldn't have done it in front of Harry and Claire."
"Technically, I don't think he saw us when he actually gave it to Lupin," Claire clarified.
"Well, still, though," Hermione said, "he wouldn't do that when you saw him walk in with the goblet."
"Yeah, maybe," Harry said as they reached the entrance hall and crossed into the Great Hall. The hall was decorated with hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which swam around lazily across the stormy ceiling.
The food was delicious; even Hermione and Ron, who were full to bursting with Honeydukes sweets, managed second helpings of everything. Harry and Claire kept glancing at the staff table to see if Professor Lupin looked any different. He looked cheerful as ever. However, they noticed that Snape seemed to be flickering his eyes more often than was natural towards Lupin.
The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. Harry, Claire, Ron, and Hermione followed the rest of the Gryffindors along the usual path to Gryffindor Tower, but when they reached the corridor that ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, they found it jammed with students.
"What's the hold-up?" Claire said curiously. "Why isn't anyone going in?"
Harry peered over the heads in front of him. The portrait seemed to be closed.
"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice, and he came bustling importantly through the crowd. "What's going on? You can't all have forgotten the password—excuse me, I'm Head Boy—"
And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. They heard Percy say, in a suddenly sharp voice, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."
People's heads turned; those at the back were standing on tiptoe.
"What's going on?" Ginny said, who had just arrived.
"We don't know yet," Claire said, feeling a bit tense.
A moment later, Professor Dumbledore was there, sweeping toward the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through, and Claire, Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved closer to see what the trouble was.
"Oh, my—" Hermione grabbed Harry's arm.
The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so violently that strips of canvas littered the floor.
Dumbledore took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, his eyes somber, to see Professor McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape hurrying towards him.
"We need to find her," Dumbledore said. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."
"You'll be lucky!" said a cackling voice.
It was Peeves the Poltergist, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, at the sight of wreckage and worry.
"What do you mean, Peeves?" Dumbledore said calmly and Peeves's grin faded a little. He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Instead he adopted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle.
"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing," he added unconvincingly.
"Did she say who did it?" Dumbledore said quietly.
"Oh, yes, Professorhead," Peeves said, with the air of one cradling a large bombshell in his arms. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves flipped over and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."
Claire's heart caught in her throat and she gripped Harry's arm tightly. Harry didn't notice this because he to was thinking the same as Claire. Sirius Black had been in the castle and now it was only a matter of time before he got to them.
How about Lupin's talk with Claire and Harry? Why do you think Lupin seemed angry whenever Claire mentioned her dad? You'll have to wait and see I guess.