LXXXIII. LAST CHRISTMAS
31:07 ─❁────────── 31:80
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❝She said you were a hero
You played the part❞
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"WELCOME BACK, MISS DIFIORE," GREETED Professor Dumbledore, as Lucia emerged from the bright green flames of his fireplace.
It'd been a few days since the holidays started, and before she was to went off to the Burrow, she had opted to spend her birthday with the only family she had left. But as she arrived back in the office of the headmaster, it had seemed that he had been waiting for her arrival as she saw her belongings resting lonesomely in the middle of the office.
"Ah, thank you, Professor," said Lucia in a slight daze, clutching her purse tightly. She approached her trunk, examining if all her belongings were there. "I see all my stuff is here,"
"Naturally" said Dumbledore. "I have asked Miss Granger to help gather your clothes, and for Harry to bring your dear little friend along with them to the Weasleys after your abrupt leave,"
"I apologise for that," she sighed solemnly, making her way to the phoenix that was perched up near the headmaster's desk. A small smile made its way to her lips as she let the phoenix nibble on her finger. "When I got to know that I have permission to visit and stay with my mum for a few days, I just couldn't resist it and forgot about packing my stuff for the Burrow..."
Dumbledore stared attentively at the girl as she played with his phoenix companion. "That's all right. How was... Rose, was it?"
Lucia nodded dazingly, admiring the phoenix. "She... she's getting better, I guess. She can utter a full sentence now, so that's improvement," she said distractedly. "Say, Professor, where did you get this guy?"
"Ah, you mean Fawkes," said Dumbledore smilingly in a wise manner. "If you're curious because you want to find one like him and save them, I advise you to not. It is not easy to obtain and care for a phoenix,"
"I'm well aware, but I've always wanted to meet a phoenix..."
"No matter what you say, I will not tell you how I got Fawkes,"
She huffed defeatedly. "Bummer," she said, before detaching her attention from Fawkes to the shabby hat. "I'm guessing that's my ride to the Weasleys?"
"I apologise. As much as you dread this ever since your first encounter with portkeys, Miss DiFiore, however this is the only thing that can get you into the safe shelter of the Burrow without any problems,"
Yeah, because the only problem would be me vomiting in the middle of the living room the moment I get there...
"I completely understand," she smiled.
"How wonderful," he said. As Dumbledore waved his wand effortlessly, her baggage vanished in thin air. He beckoned her forth to grasp the shabby hat, however before that, he asked her a question.
"Are you all right, Miss DiFiore?"
But before she could answer him, the portkey had already taken her; Lucia felt a hook somewhere behind her navel, as if pulling her in and before she knew it, she landed harshly against the floorboards of the Weasleys' abode. She blinked blankly and didn't comprehend properly that she arrived, for the only that was crossing her mind was the headmaster's words.
Was she all right?
Was it all okay for her to say no, or was she not allowed that since all she's been graced with since the start of the term was... happiness?
She clutched her purse tightly in her hand. Of course she was all right, she told herself. She had no excuse to be sad.
"What was that?" she heard a familiar voice muffled. Lucia looked around where she had landed and saw a sink, pots, and pans, as well as an array of knives. It was then she realised just where she was in —
"LUCIA!"
A chorus of yells filled her eardrums before arms closed her in an embrace, the scent of pines that felt so homey filled her nostrils as she drank it up like it was the hot chocolate she had been craving for. She felt the energy that she once lost after her visit to St. Mungo's replenished at the feeling of belonging that filled her mind in such a foreign manner. "Hi..."
"Did you just come out of nowhere or something?" Ron made his presence known, as he held a knife in his hand.
"I... I got here by portkey..." trailed Lucia before she looked up at the tallest in the room questionably. "Why do you have a knife...?"
"Because I was peeling sprouts. Why don't you have a knife?" pointed Ron.
Harry didn't unlatch himself from his girlfriend, seemingly noticing the drain of energy that was prominent from the look of her face. However, he turned to Ron slightly, perplexed. "Why would she have a knife?"
"That's why I'm asking why she doesn't!"
Perhaps all the exhaustion that came from staying in the hospital for a few nights right after having felt sick in the stomach because all the tarts she ate with Astoria the night before in Slughorn's party had finally dwelled in her, for everything that was going on currently just simple did not make any sense whatsoever.
"Why..." Lucia spoke up, gaining the attention of the two, "Is that why you smell like sprout?" she told Harry, who blushed embarrassingly.
"We were, uh, helping Mrs. Weasley out —"
"More like being threatened to," stated Ron.
"I guess I wanted to help her out," corrected Harry, shrugging.
Speak of the devil, Mrs. Weasley emerged through the door beamingly with Ginny behind her carrying more basket of vegetables for Harry and Ron, who groaned in dismay, to peel.
"Lucia! How wonderful to see you again, dear!" the Weasley matriarch pulled her into a very tight hug.
Lucia gasped for air as she let out a nervous, awkward laugh. "The feeling's mutual," she said, patting the witch delicately. "I — uh — thank you for having me,"
"What's with the formalities?" pointed Ginny out, dropping the basket in front of Ron, who scowled at his little sister.
"That is true..." said Mrs. Weasley in a concern manner. "Did something happen before you arrive?"
She immediately shook her head. "That's definitely not the case!" she said. "I'm just a bit tired, is all,"
"I see..."
As Harry watched his girlfriend slowly greeting everyone while he and Ron sat back in the kitchen, he couldn't help but notice the clear differences in Lucia's mannerism from the last time he had seen her; relaxed and relief. Now, she looked more tensed, and the smile of hers felt more forced.
"Ron..."
"Hmm?"
"Did you notice Lucia —"
"No."
Harry frowned. "But I haven't said anything just yet?"
"I've already known enough," said Ron, continuing with his peeling. "You're worried about Lucia because she looks like she rather be alone than being with us all."
"How did...?"
"Lavender may ask me to snog her most of the time, but she also makes me completely more aware of her feelings," he said.
"So what? Are you saying that you're an expert at feeling or something?" Harry snorted, taking a seat across from him.
"Of course not, but I improved," Ron threw a sprout at Harry's way. "Also, I think it's best to leave from questioning her for now, you know? She got back from St. Mungo's, and she said she doesn't want out pity, so respect her request,"
"I am..." downcast Harry, "But I'm worried that this is effecting her really bad. Especially since she went to meet her mum on her birthday,"
"What's the significance between her mum being the way she is now, and her birthday?" Ron asked, puzzled.
Harry stiffened. "Oh — uh — nothing! forget I said anything..."
"Are you sure about that, mate?" said Ron unsurely.
"Yeah," Harry waved it off. "Now, about Malfoy..."
Lucia changed into a much comfortable pair of clothes and went down the flight of stairs, into the kitchen, where she was confident Harry and Ron were. She had seemed to enter in midst of their conversation.
"Hi, hi," she chirped, plopping down beside Ron. "What're we talking about?"
Ron and Harry exchanged knowing glances. "Well, it's about what happened when I left you for awhile..."
Though Lucia was incredibly tired, she made an effort to listen to what Harry had discovered when he was snooping around Snape and Draco's business.
"So, you're saying that Snape was offering to help him?" said Lucia slowly, comprehending his words.
"Are you sure he was offering to help him? Like, offering, offering to help him? He was definitely offering to help him?"
"If you ask that once more," said Harry, "I'm going to stick this sprout —"
"I'm only checking!" said Ron. Lucia blew a low whistle and took a knife to cut up some potatoes with all her strength. The snow drifted past the window from behind them. "Are you sure..."
"Yes, Snape was offering to help him!" said Harry. "He said he'd promised Malfoy's mother to protect him, that he'd made an Unbreakable Oath or something —"
"An Unbreakable Vow?" said Ron, looking stunned. "Nah, he can't have... Are you sure?"
"Well, you can't break an Unbreakable Vow..."
"Nice answer," said Lucia sarcastically under her breath with another grunt, mushing some brittle potatoes.
Harry did not look impress. "I'd worked that much out for myself, funnily enough. What happens if you break it, then?"
"You die," said Ron simply.
"I see a pattern. What is it with magic and wizards with dying?" Lucia scoffed.
Ron shrugged.
"Fred and George tried to get me to make one when I was about five. I nearly did too, I was holding hands with Fred and everything when Dad found us. He went mental," he said with a reminiscent gleam in his eyes. "Only time I've ever seen Dad as angry as Mum. Fred reckons his left buttock has never been the same since."
"Yeah, well, passing over Fred's left buttock —"
"I beg your pardon?" said Fred's voice as the twins entered the kitchen.
"Aaah, George, look at this. They're using knives and everything. Bless them."
Lucia blinked. Hold on...
"I'll be seventeen in two and a bit months' time," said Ron grumpily, "and then I'll be able to do it by magic!"
"But meanwhile," said George, sitting down at the kitchen table and putting his feet up on it, "we can enjoy watching you demonstrate the correct use of a — whoops-a-daisy!"
"You made me do that!" said Ron angrily, sucking his cut thumb. "You wait, when I'm seventeen —"
"I'm sure you'll dazzle us all with hitherto unsuspected magical skills," yawned Fred.
"And speaking of hitherto unsuspected skills, Ronald," said George, "what is this we hear from Ginny about you and a young lady called — unless our information is faulty — Lavender Brown?"
Ron turned a little pink but did not look displeased as he turned back to the sprouts. "Mind your own business."
"Karma," sang Lucia, remembering when Ginny had been the target of her brothers. She pulled wand out from the bundle of hair and waved it; Lucia slumped back in her chair and relaxed as the potatoes began to mush themselves. "I love magic,"
"That isn't fair," mumbled Harry. "You're of-age,"
"As of a few days ago, yup," said Lucia, grinning.
"Help me," said Harry, looking into her eyes with eyes that he thought she will never resist. However, Lucia smiled at him.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I said so, now go back to work," said Lucia, which Harry begrudgingly complied with.
"What a snappy retort," said Fred to Ron, causing Lucia and Harry to turn back to the topic at hand, Ron and Lavender. "I really don't know how you think of them. No, what we wanted to know was... how did it happen?"
"What d'you mean?"
"Did she have an accident or something?"
"What?"
"Well, how did she sustain such extensive brain damage? Careful, now!"
Mrs. Weasley and Erin, who seemed to be glaring at each other as they entered the room, was just just in time to see Ron throw the sprout knife, passing Fred and almost hitting Erin directly at her face. But before it could do any damage, the knife turned it into a paper airplane with one lazy flick of Fred's wand.
Erin blinked, shocked, and inevitably felt weak all the sudden. She dropped the basket filled with fruits to the ground. "Oh, Merlin..."
"Ron!" Mrs. Weasley said furiously. "Don't you ever let me see you throwing knives again!"
Though Mrs. Weasley did not like her son's match as much as her husband did, Mrs. Weasley was still furious, for anyone could have gotten hurt from that...
"I won't," said Ron, "let you see," he added under his breath, as he turned back to the sprout mountain.
Fred quickly came to Erin's side and caught her before she fell due to her jelly legs. "Okay there, love?"
"Aside from just passively arguing with your mother again, I also almost got my extremely face ruined, it was no biggie," Erin laughed gingerly as she collected the fallen fruits. "Another day in the Weasley household..."
It didn't took long for Erin to get up and moving once more like nothing had happened. Actually, she was just afriad if she were to act that it was defitely a biggie, she would have to get into another long trial of having to listen to Mrs. Weasley's comments; Erin didn't want to ruin Christmas by indirectly fighting her boyfriend's and friend's mother, she wanted the week to be nice.
Mrs. Weasley clearly did not like her, but she still need to make an effort to keep peace, for it was important to her that she won't get poison suddenly or something during this trip.
Frankly, she also was not sure between her and Fleur, which of them were in the top of Mrs. Weasley's loathing list — maybe they were both Mrs. Weasley's Undesirable Number One...
Erin rounded the table, setting the basket filled fruits before she took out her wand and flicked it lazily; the fruits levitated to the sink to be washed.
"Sorry, Erin," said Ron.
"Nothing new, trust me," said Erin earnestly, cutting kiwis. "Fred and George do more damage at the store than you did by throwing a knife at me. And plus, it was an accident." She dismissed.
"Fred, George, I'm sorry, dears, but Remus is arriving tonight, so Bill will have to squeeze in with you two."
"No problem," said George.
"Then, as Charlie isn't coming home, that just leaves Harry and Ron in the attic, and if Fleur, Erin, and Lucia shares with Ginny —"
"— that'll make Ginny's Christmas —" muttered Fred.
"— everyone should be comfortable. Well, they'll have a bed, anyway," said Mrs. Weasley, sounding slightly harassed.
"Percy definitely not showing his ugly face, then?" asked Fred.
Mrs. Weasley turned away before she answered. "No, he's busy, I expect, at the Ministry."
"Or he's the world's biggest prat," said Fred, as Mrs. Weasley left the kitchen. "One of the two. Well, let's get going, then, George."
"What are you two up to?" asked Ron. "Can't you help us with these sprouts? You could just use your wand and then we'll be free too!"
"No, I don't think we can do that," said Fred seriously. "It's very character-building stuff, learning to peel sprouts without magic, makes you appreciate how difficult it is for Muggles and Squibs —"
"— and if you want people to help you, Ron," added George, throwing the paper airplane at him, "I wouldn't chuck knives at them. Just a little hint. We're off to the village, there's a very pretty girl working in the paper shop who thinks my card tricks are something marvelous... almost like real magic..."
"Coming, love?" Fred gazed at Erin, who set her knife down.
"I guess there's no harm in going..." she said, untying her pale blonde hair. "Plus, this'll be my chance to explore the Muggle world more — my first muggle village... what do they they'll have there?"
"Loads of things that might interest you, Eridani," said Fred, gazing fawningly at his girlfriend.
"Fascinating..." said Erin eagerly.
"That's the spirit, Air!" George sniggered.
"Don't call me Air!" She glared at the younger Weasley twin.
"Oh, loosen up, Air," Fred teased, walking backward out.
Soon enough, all three could hear a distinctive smack outside of the doorway, where a loud whining voice of an "Ows" followed suit.
"Gits," said Ron darkly, watching Fred, George, and Erin setting off across the snowy yard. "Would've only taken them ten seconds and then we could've gone too."
"I couldn't," said Harry. "I promised Dumbledore I wouldn't wander off whilst I'm staying here."
"That's a bummer," said Lucia half-heartedly as she busied herself with cutting some mangos and plopping some into her mouth as the potatoes continued to be mashed via magic that she had casted thanks to her being of age already. "Usually you don't listen to teachers,"
"Well, I listen to Dumbledore now — pass me those mango cube, please," said Harry, and Lucia did so as he pleased, feeding him some mango simultaneously as he peeled the sprouts. "Thank you," he said mid-chew.
Lucia smiled.
"Oh yeah," said Ron. He peeled a few more sprouts and then said, "Are you going to tell Dumbledore what you heard Snape and Malfoy saying to each other?"
"Yep," said Harry. "I'm going to tell anyone who can put a stop to it, and Dumbledore's top of the list. I might have another word with your dad too."
"Pity you didn't hear what Malfoy's actually doing, though."
"I couldn't have done, could I? That was the whole point, he was refusing to tell Snape."
There was silence for a moment or two, then Ron said, "'Course, you know what they'll all say? Dad and Dumbledore and all of them? They'll say Snape isn't really trying to help Malfoy, he was just trying to find out what Malfoy's up to."
"You know, if Snape really did an Unbreakable Vow that has something to do with Malfoy, it really isn't far-fetch that he really did offer to help Malfoy with whatever he's been up to these day," said Lucia thoughtfully. "Like you said, Ron, if you fail the Unbreakable Vow, you die."
"See, and they didn't hear him," said Harry flatly. "No one's that good an actor, not even Snape."
"Yeah... I'm just saying, though," said Ron.
Harry turned to face him, frowning. "You think I'm right, though?"
"Yeah, I do!" said Ron hastily. "Seriously, I do! But they're all convinced Snape's in the Order, aren't they?"
"In war, sometimes having a double agent is normal, but also dangerous for both sides," said Lucia airily, picking on the skin of an apple. "If Snape's not as loyal as Dumbledore thought he is, he could seriously cause some damage in our side and inevitably, Voldemort could win. The same could be said for Voldemort's side as well,"
Neither Ron nor Harry said anything at that. It was simply something that needed to be thought twice of and quite frankly, neither of the three had thought of that until now. Harry thought that it was actually quite obvious that Hermione would dismiss the thought immediately: Obviously, Harry, he was pretending to offer help so he could trick Malfoy into telling him what he's doing...
This was pure imagination, however, as he had no opportunity to tell Hermione what he had overheard. She had disappeared from Slughorn's party before he returned to it, or so he had been informed by an irate McLaggen, and she had already gone to bed by the time he returned to the common room. As he, Ron, and Ginny had left for the Burrow early the next day, he had barely had time to wish her a happy Christmas and to tell her that he had some very important news when they got back from the holidays. He was not entirely sure that she had heard him, though; Ron and Lavender had been saying a thoroughly nonverbal goodbye just behind them at the time.
Still, even Hermione would not be able to deny one thing: Malfoy was definitely up to something, and Snape knew it, so Harry felt fully justified in saying "I told you so," which he had done several times to Ron already.
Harry did not get the chance to speak to Mr. Weasley, who was working very long hours at the Ministry, until Christmas Eve night. The Weasleys and their guests were sitting in the living room, which Ginny had decorated so lavishly that it was rather like sitting in a paper-chain explosion. Fred, George, Harry, and Ron were the only ones who knew that the angel on top of the tree was actually a garden gnome that had bitten Fred on the ankle as he pulled up carrots for Christmas dinner. Stupefied, painted gold, stuffed into a miniature tutu and with small wings glued to its back, it glowered down at them all, the ugliest angel Harry had ever seen, with a large bald head like a potato and rather hairy feet.
They were all supposed to be listening to a Christmas broadcast by Mrs. Weasley's favorite singer, Celestina Warbeck, whose voice was warbling out of the large wooden wireless set. Fleur, who seemed to find Celestina very dull, was talking so loudly about the sketches Lucia had given her for the bridesmaids dressed in the corner that a scowling Mrs. Weasley kept pointing her wand at the volume control, so that Celestina grew louder and louder.
Under cover of a particularly jazzy number called "A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love," Fred and George started a game of Exploding Snap with Ginny and Erin. Ron kept shooting Bill and Fleur covert looks as though he was hoping to pick up some tips, all while he played chess effortlessly against Lucia who kept on losing and demanding more rematches. Meanwhile, Remus Lupin, who was thinner and more ragged looking than ever, was sitting beside the fire, staring into its depths as though he could not hear Celestina's voice.
Oh, come and stir my cauldron,
And if you do it right
I'll boil you up some hot strong love
To keep you warm tonight
"We danced to this when we were eighteen!" said Mrs. Weasley, wiping her eyes on her knitting. "Do you remember, Arthur?"
"Mphf?" said Mr. Weasley, whose head had been nodding over the satsuma he was peeling. "Oh yes... marvelous tune..."
With an effort, he sat up a little straighter and looked around at Harry, who was sitting next to him.
"Sorry about this," he said, jerking his head toward the wireless as Celestina broke into the chorus. "Be over soon."
"No problem," said Harry, grinning. "Has it been busy at the Ministry?"
"Very," said Mr. Weasley. "I wouldn't mind if we were getting anywhere, but of the three arrests we've made in the last couple of months, I doubt that one of them is a genuine Death Eater — only don't repeat that, Harry," he added quickly, looking much more awake all of a sudden.
"What about Stan Shunpike?" Lucia asked, tearing her eyes from her chess pieces that were being demolished by Ron's. It was too pathetic that even she didn't want to see. "They're not still holding him, are they?"
"I'm afraid so," said Mr. Weasley. "I know Dumbledore's tried appealing directly to Scrimgeour about Stan... I mean, anybody who has actually interviewed him agrees that he's about as much a Death Eater as this satsuma... but the top levels want to look as though they're making some progress, and 'three arrests' sounds better than 'three mistaken arrests and releases'... but again, this is all top secret..."
"We won't say anything," said Harry. He hesitated for a moment, wondering how best to embark on what he wanted to say; as he marshaled his thoughts, Celestina Warbeck began a ballad called "You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me."
"I checked, Harry," said Mr. Weasley at once. "I went and searched the Malfoys' house. There was nothing, either broken or whole, that shouldn't have been there."
"Yeah, I know, I saw in the Prophet that you'd looked... but this is something different... Well, something more..." And he told Mr. Weasley everything he had overheard between Malfoy and Snape. As Harry spoke, he saw Lupin's head turn a little toward him, taking in every word. When he had finished, there was silence, except for Celestina's crooning.
Oh, my poor heart, where has it gone?
It's left me for a spell...
"Has it occurred to you, Harry," said Mr. Weasley, "that Snape was simply pretending — ?"
Lucia, who was trying her best to pretend not to hear the conversation that she had just left to pay attention to her tenth rematch against Ron, who wasn't even paying attention yet still winning who knows how, winced. This was exactly what she, Harry, and Ron have expected their reaction to be.
"Pretending to offer help, so that he could find out what Malfoy's up to?" said Harry quickly. "Yeah, I thought you'd say that. But how do we know?"
"It isn't our business to know," said Lupin unexpectedly. He had turned his back on the fire now and faced Harry across Mr. Weasley. "It's Dumbledore's business. Dumbledore trusts Severus, and that ought to be good enough for all of us."
"But," said Harry, "just say — just say Dumbledore's wrong about Snape —"
"People have said it, many times. It comes down to whether or not you trust Dumbledore's judgment. I do; therefore, I trust Severus."
"But Dumbledore can make mistakes," argued Harry. "He says it himself. And you" — he looked Lupin straight in the eye — "do you honestly like Snape?"
"I neither like nor dislike Severus," said Lupin. "No, Harry, I am speaking the truth," he added, as Harry pulled a skeptical expression. "We shall never be bosom friends, perhaps; after all that happened between James and Sirius and Severus, there is too much bitterness there. But I do not forget that during the year I taught at Hogwarts, Severus made the Wolfsbane Potion for me every month, made it perfectly, so that I did not have to suffer as I usually do at the full moon."
"But he 'accidentally' let it slip that you're a werewolf, so you had to leave!" said Harry angrily.
Lupin shrugged. "The news would have leaked out anyway. We both know he wanted my job, but he could have wreaked much worse damage on me by tampering with the potion. He kept me healthy. I must be grateful."
"Pay attention, Ronnie," hissed Lucia, flicking Ron's forehead.
"Look, I'll be real with you, Lu, you're a great chess player and all but we've been playing for the fifteenth time already. Can't we take a break?" Ron whined.
"Not until I win at least one match!" said Lucia determinedly, moving her pawn.
Ron groaned and face planted his face on the floor, moving his pawn ahead without looking. He had been doing this for the pass hour already...
"Maybe he didn't dare mess with the potion with Dumbledore watching him!" said Harry.
"You are determined to hate him, Harry," said Lupin with a faint smile. "And I understand; with James as your father, with Sirius as your godfather, you have inherited an old prejudice. By all means tell Dumbledore what you have told Arthur and me, but do not expect him to share your view of the matter; do not even expect him to be surprised by what you tell him. It might have been on Dumbledore's orders that Severus questioned Draco."
...and now you've torn it quite apart
I'll thank you to give back my heart!
Celestina ended her song on a very long, high-pitched note and loud applause issued out of the wireless, which Mrs. Weasley joined in with enthusiastically.
"Eez eet over?" said Fleur loudly. "Thank goodness, what an 'orrible —"
"Shall we have a nightcap, then?" asked Mr. Weasley loudly, leaping to his feet. "Who wants eggnog?"
"Finally!" Lucia cheered, pushing herself up to her feet and jumping up and down with glee. "I win! I win! I win!"
Ron slumped himself on the cushion. "You win, you win, you win," he said, watching the DiFiore doing her happy dance and cartwheels around the room. To make it short, he let her win deliberately. His brain was getting exhausted and in no way was he going to spend the rest of the night playing chess repeatedly.
"What have you been up to lately?" Harry asked Lupin, as Mr. Weasley bustled off to fetch the eggnog, and everybody else stretched and broke into conversation.
"Oh, I've been underground," said Lupin. "Almost literally. That's why I haven't been able to write, Harry; sending letters to you would have been something of a giveaway."
"What do you mean?"
"I've been living among my fellows, my equals," said Lupin. "Werewolves," he added, at Harry's look of incomprehension. "Nearly all of them are on Voldemort's side. Dumbledore wanted a spy and here I was... ready-made."
He sounded a little bitter, and perhaps realized it, for he smiled more warmly as he went on, "I am not complaining; it is necessary work and who can do it better than I? However, it has been difficult gaining their trust. I bear the unmistakable signs of having tried to live among wizards, you see, whereas they have shunned normal society and live on the margins, stealing — and sometimes killing — to eat."
"Why do they like him?" Lucia interjected herself quietly into the conversation suddenly, causing Harry, Mr. Weasley, and Lupin to jump out of startlement. "Voldemort, I mean, why do they like him? Doesn't he hate everyone that isn't pureblood? "
"That may be true, but they think that, under his rule, they will have a better life," said Lupin. "And it is hard to argue with Greyback out there..."
"Who's Greyback?" Harry asked, leaning forward slightly.
"You haven't heard of him?" Lupin's hands closed convulsively in his lap. "Fenrir Greyback is, perhaps, the most savage werewolf alive today. He regards it as his mission in life to bite and to contaminate as many people as possible; he wants to create enough werewolves to overcome the wizards. Voldemort has promised him prey in return for his services. Greyback specializes in children... Bite them young, he says, and raise them away from their parents, raise them to hate normal wizards. Voldemort has threatened to unleash him upon people's sons and daughters; it is a threat that usually produces good results."
Lupin paused and then said, "It was Greyback who bit me."
"What?" said Harry, astonished. "When — when you were a kid, you mean?"
"Yes. My father had offended him. I did not know, for a very long time, the identity of the werewolf who had attacked me; I even felt pity for him, thinking that he had had no control, knowing by then how it felt to transform. But Greyback is not like that. At the full moon, he positions himself close to victims, ensuring that he is near enough to strike. He plans it all. And this is the man Voldemort is using to marshal the werewolves. I cannot pretend that my particular brand of reasoned argument is making much headway against Greyback's insistence that we werewolves deserve blood, that we ought to revenge ourselves on normal people."
Hearing Lupin's story, Lucia couldn't help but feel sympathetic for the former Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. She may have a rough childhood, but she didn't think it was ever as rough as Harry... and now, Lupin...
"But you are normal!" said Harry fiercely. "You've just got a — a problem —"
Lupin burst out laughing. "Sometimes you remind me a lot of James. He called it my 'furry little problem' in company. Many people were under the impression that I owned a badly behaved rabbit."
"How cute the assumptions were back in those days," sighed Lucia after accepting an eggnog from Mrs. Weasley with a beaming thanks.
Harry, meanwhile, felt a rush of excitement: This last mention of his father had reminded him that there was something he had been looking forward to asking Lupin. "Have you ever heard of someone called the Half-Blood Prince?"
"The Half-Blood what?"
"Prince," said Harry, watching him closely for signs of recognition.
Lupin turned to Lucia, who sat on her knees as she sips her eggnog rather obnoxiously, with a look that said: Is he serious?
Lucia, unfortunately, nodded. "It's a silly nickname, right?"
"Very," mumbled Lupin before saying, "There are no Wizarding princes," He then smiled. "Is this a title you're thinking of adopting? I should have thought being 'the Chosen One' would be enough."
Lucia giggled into her cup of eggnog, only emerging when she was done.
"It's nothing to do with me!" said Harry indignantly. "The Half-Blood Prince is someone who used to go to Hogwarts, I've got his old Potions book. He wrote spells all over it, spells he invented. One of them was Levicorpus —"
"Oh, that one had a great vogue during my time at Hogwarts," said Lupin reminiscently. "There were a few months in my fifth year when you couldn't move for being hoisted into the air by your ankle."
"My dad used it," said Harry. "I saw him in the Pensieve, he used it on Snape."
He tried to sound casual, as though this was a throwaway comment of no real importance, but he was not sure he had achieved the right effect; Lupin's smile was a little too understanding.
"Yes," he said, "but he wasn't the only one. As I say, it was very popular... You know how these spells come and go..."
"But it sounds like it was invented while you were at school," Harry persisted.
"Not necessarily," said Lupin. "Jinxes go in and out of fashion like everything else."
"Who would've thoughts spells would be like fashion?" Lucia snorted, "In and out of fashion... what silliness..."
Lupin studied Harry's face and then said quietly, "James was a pureblood, Harry, and I promise you, he never asked us to call him 'Prince.'"
"Or Sirius, he had a big ego, didn't?" said Lucia thoughtfully.
"Or you?" said Harry, abandoning pretense.
"Definitely not."
"Oh." Harry stared into the fire. "I just thought — well, he's helped me out a lot in Potions classes, the Prince has."
"How old is this book, Harry?"
"I dunno, I've never checked."
"Well, perhaps that will give you some clue as to when the Prince was at Hogwarts," said Lupin.
Shortly after this, Fleur decided to imitate Celestina singing "A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love," which was taken by everyone, once they had glimpsed Mrs. Weasley's expression, to be the cue to go to bed.
Ginny stomped inside her room, following by Fleur and a very nervous Erin, for this was the very time she was staying with the bunch of girls. Lucia was about to follow them both in, hoping to help Erin stop any argument from breaking inside the room when she suddenly saw Harry's slightly dejected face. She looked between the room and Harry and sighed.
"Wait," Lucia seized Harry's hand suddenly, causing him to halt from his steps. "Are you okay?"
"About everything? No," said Harry sarcastically.
"I meant about the Half-Blood Prince, prick. Are you okay?" Lucia asked again.
He should be the one to ask that...
"Bummed out that it wasn't my dad is all," he sighed. "Thought the book brought me closer to Dad I guess, since, you know, I don't exactly have anything else of him except for the cloak. And don't get me started with Mum —" Harry stopped himself. "Sorry," he said sheepishly at her, rubbing his nape.
"You know you can come to me whenever, right?" said Lucia earnestly. "And I'm not joking about that, Harry. You can tell me whatever you want; whether you'll rant or not, I'll listen. I'm always here..."
Harry stared at her as the moonlight shone through Ginny's curtains, creating a silhouette of the DiFiore, making her more ethereal than she already was. The kind eyes that he fell in love with... the soft smile that made everything feel better... the honey voice that he found comfort in... He loved everything about her and he wanted to tell her that.
But he couldn't find the courage to, ironically. Instead, he smiled softly back. "I know,"
Lucia pulled him for a short embrace, and he relished the enticing scent of peonies that were filling him up like a drink before they separated. He watched as the door to Ginny's room shut, and the last image he saw was the beautiful sight of Lucia DiFiore, smiling with all her heart.
He closed his eyes and was about to turn her heel when he heard a loud sound of a crash from within, following a series of voices.
"Ginny!" Erin.
"She was asking for it!" Ginny.
"I waz trying to be nice!" Fleur.
"Oh, for the love of god, just sleep!" And there she was, Lucia.
He was doomed to love her as fate brought them together and he knewthat, but it was one of the very few things that fate did right. Bringing twoshatter hearts to be mended together, only making it stronger than before