May 3rd, 1998
Antheia Lupin believed she was too young.
Too young to inherit a home, too young to fight a war, too young to lose a father, and too young to remain the last Lupin alive.
She was turning eighteen in a bit less than three months. She was barely an adult. But here she stood, in the living room of her house, having lost too much. Antheia couldn't bear to go upstairs so she walked the halls, desperately avoiding any family photos. However, her eyes met a small, framed picture of three people and once they did, they refused to look away.
The photo was simple: a young Remus Lupin and Mary Macdonald holding a baby Antheia in their arms. Beside the photo were a glass of Firewhiskey and a scribbled note. Antheia held up the note until she could read the small handwriting:
Antheia's eighteenth day with us! Mary and I are setting aside a bottle to drink on her eighteenth birthday.
Her hand was shaking. In fear of dropping the bottle, she quickly placed it down and ran out to the yard, in need of fresh air.
The first thing she spotted was a garden. She scrunched her eyebrows, not remembering a garden the last time she had been here, which she realized was over a year ago. She hastily picked up some flowers and began digging them into the dirt.
"Is this a lily?" she asked out loud to herself, examining the flower's petals. She shrugged and poured some water over the plant before moving on to the next flower.
What started with over three dozen flowers ended after a few hours, Antheia having zoned out multiple times. As she went to clean up the flower pots, she heard the doorbell ring.
"What?" Antheia said, taking off her gloves and approaching the door. "Who could that be?"
She had taken the train home the day after the war had finally ended. After cleaning up for hours and seeing the faces of the fallen, she had had enough. So, as the younger students were sent home, Antheia slipped on the Hogwarts Express as well, leaving nothing but a note for Harry, Ron, and Hermione and a hug for Professor McGonagall.
Antheia opened the door, expecting a lost Muggle who needed to use her phone or a young girl scout selling treats. However, Harry was in front of her, looking nearly as dusty and exhausted as she did.
"Harry?"
"You left so early in the morning," he explained. "I couldn't follow you. I flew all the way back here with my Firebolt."
"You could've waited until tomorrow morning," said Antheia, in disbelief.
"Then, you'd be lonely, wouldn't you? Why not be lonely with me?"
"I'm not lonely," said Antheia firmly, perhaps trying to convince herself rather than Harry. The last thing she wanted was a reminder of everything she had lost. But she knew she couldn't keep secrets from him. "I couldn't stay there any longer. It's like I've lost everything ... and I almost thought I lost you!"
"You didn't," said Harry. "Another secret Dumbledore had kept from me. Makes me question all I've believed in."
"He's brilliant but he's also a liar," said Antheia. "He's a manipulator and we've just been his puppets. If he hadn't gone to these lengths, couldn't this journey have been easier?"
"I dunno, Theia, but it's over," responded Harry. "We're done. We've gone to hell and back. All that's left is to recover, right?"
Antheia realised Harry was still standing on her doorstep with bright rays of sunlight accentuating the small scars on his face. She pulled him into the house before wrapping her arms around his neck.
She had expected their last hug to have been their final but here she was, wishing for a million more after this. He was smiling when they separated.
"We never really celebrated your birthday, did we?" said Harry, opening the front door once again. Antheia shrugged.
"We have my next one soon, anyway."
"We're not waiting three months!" exclaimed a voice from behind Harry. Antheia looked out the door and saw Ron and Hermione running towards her. They both had large suitcases with them.
"Have you ever heard of a Muggle sleepover, Theia?" asked Hermione, as Ron opened the door for her and invited himself into the house.
"Not in the slightest," answered Antheia. Hermione began laying down four mattresses, blankets, and pillows onto the living room floor.
"Wingardium Leviosa," Ron muttered, lifting the sofa and tables out of the way for Hermione.
"It's when Muggles sleep at their friend's houses for fun," explained Hermione.
"That's why it's called a sleepover!" said Ron, reciting the sentence as if reading from a script. Hermione patted him on the shoulder proudly. "You sleep over at somebody's house."
"Brilliant!" said Harry, his eyes lighting up. "I've always wanted to have one of those!"
"Me, too!" said Hermione, her and Harry exchanging delighted glances.
"Neither of you have ever had one?" asked Antheia, confused. "I thought both of you grew up with Muggles?"
"Er - before Hogwarts," said Harry, his face turning slightly pink, "I didn't have many friends. Dudley's friends would come over sometimes but I'd get locked up in my room."
"I didn't have any Muggle friends, either ..." admitted Hermione. "But I've got the three of you, now! Theia, do you have any snacks?"
Antheia thought for a moment. Her first instinct was to say no unless they wanted to eat expired food. Then, she remembered the bottle of Firewhiskey in the hallway leading to the kitchen.
"Does Firewhiskey expire?"
Ron whooped.
"I don't ... I don't know ..." said Hermione, looking flustered.
"Wow, Hermione Granger not knowing the answer to something?" asked Ron teasingly. "I never thought I'd see the day!"
"There's not much about Firewhiskey in the books I read including in Hogwarts: A History."
"It doesn't expire," said Ron. "Fred and George told me. Go fetch it. We can all legally drink it now, can't we?"
"Legally?" asked Hermione, sounding bewildered. "That wasn't enough to stop the three of you at fifteen."
But Antheia was already making her way to the hallway. She picked up the bottle, tucked the note into her pocket, and made her way back to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were now settled in a small circle on the mattresses.
"I found this this morning," said Antheia, pulling out the note and tossing it to Hermione. "I think it's the perfect time to drink it. I'm not eighteen, yet, but 'we're not waiting three months!'"
So, Ron took the bottle, poured it into four cups (with his own nearly overflowing), and they all bumped their glasses together.
"To surviving the war?" asked Harry.
"To the Boy Who Lived!" cheered Hermione.
"To me finally snogging Hermione!" said Ron.
"It was hardly a snog," said Antheia. "But I'm proud of you."
"It lasted forever," groaned Harry while Antheia nodded along. Ron and Hermione exchanged glances and chuckled.
"OK, OK," said Antheia, "to legal Firewhiskey at last!"
"To legal Firewhiskey at last!" chanted the other three. They all tipped their glasses up and as soon as they did, Hermione started coughing.
"This?" she choked. "This is what you all have been excited for?"
"Brilliant, isn't it?" said Harry, pouring himself, Antheia, and Ron another glass while Hermione furrowed her eyebrows at him.
"It's completely barbaric," she said, setting down her glass and taking away the bottle from the rest of them. Harry, Antheia, and Ron booed at her. She rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't be dramatic. You won't die."
"Or even worse, be expelled," said Ron from memory. The other three burst into laughter, Hermione's face turning red in the process.
The afternoon passed and soon came evening. They had discussed anything and everything except the war that had just happened. Antheia didn't mind, though; they had years — perhaps even decades. She was happy they were simply catching up on the teenage years that had passed them in a blink of an eye.
"Confession time," said Hermione, slurring her words. After hours, Ron had convinced her to try Firewhiskey and they had all found that it impacted her the most. "Theia, why did you ever even go out with Dean?"
"I dunno," sighed Antheia. "We were close friends. I was trying to distract myself. Plus, Harry was being quite a git with Cho —"
"Hey!" interrupted Harry.
"Shh!" shushed Antheia. "Dean's with Seamus, now, isn't he?"
"Yeah, I think so," said Ron. "Oi, Hermione, why'd you go to Slughorn's Christmas Party with McLaggen? I hate that bloke."
Antheia and Harry laughed. Hermione cringed.
"I was mad at you ..." she admitted. "And I wanted to make you jealous."
It was Ron's turn to laugh, as he drank more Firewhiskey. Antheia was shocked to see how well he could handle it, considering he had only ever tried it illegally before.
"Theia, what happened with you and Theodore Nott?" asked Harry.
"Oh, not him," said Antheia angrily. "He was sort of like Malfoy, but more two-faced. He was nice to me ... for some reason that I don't know, but he was just as prejudiced and cowardly as Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini, and Parkinson!"
"Not what you said to me at the Yule Ball," said Harry, smirking. Antheia threw her pillow at him as he winced.
"After Sirius —" she paused, "I mean, at the end of fifth year, I confronted him. His father was at the Ministry that day and he had been taunting me. So, I asked him about that kind of ridiculous Death Eater business. He didn't even try to deny it. I told him that I'd chosen my way, and he'd clearly chosen his."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione blinked in shock.
"Wow," said Ron. "I wish he were here right now so I could punch him like I did to Malfoy back in first year. Did you know I punched Malfoy when I was eleven, Hermione?"
He turned to look at her, clearly in hopes to impress her, but she had fallen asleep. Her head rested on Ron's leg while the other three went silent. Ron lifted his blanket and covered her with it. He then propped up a pillow and closed his eyes. Harry and Antheia exchanged glances as Ron and Hermione looked to be out like a light.
"I don't know how I'll be able to sleep tonight," said Harry, laying down next to Antheia.
"If you can't, I'll stay up and talk with you all night."
Harry chuckled.
"Oh, right, I actually brought an extra bottle of Firewhiskey before I knew you had your own," said Harry, whipping out a large bottle from one of the large bags. "I guess we'll have to save it for another time, then."
"How about Teddy's eighteenth birthday?" suggested Antheia. Harry's eyes lit up, and he nodded at once.
"Why're we in the living room, by the way?" asked Harry. "Why didn't you want to go up to your room? You could sleep on a bed and be more comfortable, then."
"There're too many memories and I don't want to face reality, yet," said Antheia bluntly. "We don't have to. We've got years."
"As long as it takes for all four of us to come to terms with it all," said Harry. "And we'll come over every night if we have to. Even if it's forever and always."
─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─
October 30th, 2020
Antheia Potter swept through the London skies, her hands holding tight onto her broomstick. Harry Potter was not too far behind her, his eyes darting towards the Muggles on a bridge beside them.
"Why so slow, Harry?" called Antheia teasingly. "Trying to take in the scenery, are you?"
Harry whipped his head towards her and zoomed past her within seconds. Antheia grumbled as he smirked back at her.
"You know, Theia, I was the youngest Seeker in a century," he boasted.
"Clearly the most modest, too," said Antheia, rolling her eyes. "How much further to Hogwarts? We've been flying for ages!"
"I can see it!" said Harry, pointing towards the subtle outline of a castle. "Better hurry! You know how McGonagall values punctuality."
"You mean Headmistress McGonagall," corrected Antheia. As she moved her hair away from her face, a small red and gold butterfly darted past her. "What in the Merlin — how is this butterfly passing me?"
"I guess you're getting slower and slower than me with each second," shrugged Harry. "You know, they don't give out Order of Merlin: First Class to people who can barely fight butterflies. Might be why I've got one because that butterfly's far behind me."
"I've already got one of those," said Antheia. "Something about being the most valuable Auror."
"Second most!" said Harry.
As the pair landed on the soft Hogwarts grounds, they placed their brooms down and trotted over towards the entrance where Filch was waiting for them.
"You're late," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "It's ten past noon."
"Tell the Headmistress it takes a while to fly across London on a broomstick," replied Antheia. A familiar voice cleared her throat behind them and Antheia turned around.
"I presumed that after years of experience, the two of you could handle it," said McGonagall, a small smile gracing her face. Harry and Antheia grinned.
"I can handle it, Professor," rebutted Harry jokingly.
"The title of Headmistress suits you well!" exclaimed Antheia. "Now ... when're the sixth years starting their DADA lesson? We came all the way over because you asked us to teach them the Patronus Charm."
"Soon, or a quarter past one o'clock, to be specific," said McGonagall, "but I believe your son already knows it?"
"We taught our eldest, James Sirius, during his fourth year," said Harry. "Our second son, Remus Regulus, just learned it a few months ago, when he started his fourth year. As for Lily Mary, she's just twelve so we'll be waiting a few years."
"You had no trouble learning it at thirteen, didn't you, Potter?" inquired McGonagall. Harry lifted one eyebrow.
"It was a bit exhausting for me, mentally, at that age," admitted Harry.
"We were originally going to wait until James turned fifteen," explained Antheia, "but he insisted on learning it as soon as possible."
"Speaking of James," said McGonagall, "he suffered a minor Quidditch injury to his left arm during yesterday's game. Luckily, Madam Pomfrey was able to start mending his bones as soon as possible."
"You should've told us sooner!" exclaimed Antheia. "Is he in the Hospital Wing? Is he alright?"
"Potter is completely fine," said McGonagall calmly. "He is said to be released from the Hospital Wing within the hour. The two of you can visit him, if you would like but know he was well tended to yesterday, by more than just Madam Pomfrey."
"Of course, we will visit him," said Antheia, who had not known nor had understood much about a mother's love and care until James Sirius.
"What do you mean by 'more than just Madam Pomfrey'?" asked Harry curiously. McGonagall smiled as if insinuating something.
"Have you heard of Daisy Wood?"
"Oliver Wood and Penelope Clearwater's daughter, of course!" said Antheia. "She visits our house during the holidays!"
"So the two of you know of your eldest son's infatuation with her?"
"Yeah," said Harry, sighing. "And we know about her strong hatred for James, as well."
"Well, believe it or not," said McGonagall, leaning in as if the three of them were teenagers gossiping, "but Madam Pomfrey told me that Wood stayed with Potter for hours until it was nearly past curfew."
Antheia and Harry gasped.
"No!" said Harry disbelievingly. "But — but she hates him!"
"I was just as surprised," said McGonagall, nodding. "You better go visit him now, yes?"
They nodded, Antheia hugged McGonagall tightly, and they were off to the Hospital Wing. Harry took a hold of Antheia's hand and she felt less weary.
As they reached the doors, both of them spotted a girl, turning a corner, and heading straight for the doors, as well. Antheia recognized her as Daisy Wood.
"Daisy!" she called out. The sixth-year turned and smiled at her and Harry.
"Hi, Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter!" she greeted politely. Daisy was the kindest teenager Antheia knew. Her selflessness was unmatched, and her brilliance nearly overtook Hermione's. "What are you doing here?"
"We came to teach the sixth-years about how to cast a Patronus," said Harry. "Why were you headed for the Hospital Wing?"
Daisy blushed a brilliant red.
"Oh, no reason," she said, fiddling with her silver necklace, a crescent moon hanging from the end of it. "I was just about to visit Potter, I mean, James again, but since the two of you are here now ... I bet he'd prefer to see his parents rather than me. Besides, I - er - stayed with him whilst he was asleep yesterday afternoon."
"I doubt he'd rather see us over you," shrugged Harry. "Doesn't stop talking about you. If you stayed all day with him, does that mean you've stopped hating him?"
"I don't hate James," said Daisy. "He's just a bit arrogant at times. Of course, I still enjoy his company. Anyway, I'll be going now. Ever since we lost yesterday's game, I've been trying to drown myself in the showers. Say goodbye to me before you leave!"
Daisy scurried off. Antheia opened the doors and Madam Pomfrey jumped in front of her at once.
"Good to see you, Potter, Lupin."
"I go by Antheia Potter, now," corrected Antheia. Madam Pomfrey blinked.
"Lupin, with all the Quidditch injuries that I have to handle, I don't have the memory to remember a whole new set of last names. I'm not getting any younger," she sighed. "Anyway, Potter's over there. I was just about to release him, actually."
"Mum? Dad?"
Madam Pomfrey moved aside as Antheia and Harry ran over to James. His arm was bandaged and his hair messier than usual but he looked just as normal as any other day. Antheia sighed in relief.
"We should've known better than to be worried," chuckled Harry, after examining his son's arm. "You get injured nearly every game, don't you?"
"That's the price of being the best on the team," said James arrogantly.
"So ... we heard you weren't alone yesterday," said Antheia.
"What d'you mean?"
"Well —" Harry started.
"— McGonagall says Daisy Wood stayed all afternoon with you whilst you were sleeping!" finished Antheia excitedly. James sat up at once.
"No!"
"Yes!"
"That's brilliant!" James exclaimed, nearly bouncing on the bed with happiness. "Looks like this injury was worth it after all."
"Are you serious?" sighed Harry.
"No, I'm James."
─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─
James gathered many visitors throughout the hour, each receiving a strict ten minutes to stay, compiling a mountain of treats, cards, and flowers atop his bedside. Soon enough, Remus Regulus Potter and Lily Mary Potter joined the three of them in the Hospital Wing.
"Hi, Mum, Dad," beamed Lily, plopping down on the foot of James's bed; he kicked her dangling leg and she shot him a glaring look. "Want one?"
She tucked her hand into her pocket and pulled out a small flyer. Brightly coloured red and yellow with large text on the front, the flyer read: S.P.W.D: Society for the Prevention of Werewolf Discrimination. Antheia gladly took the paper from her daughter.
"You're brilliant, Lily," she said. Lily blushed. The twelve-year-old was extremely bubbly and bright, her overall sweetness only ever being disposed of with the company of her older brothers, who she often sought to compete with.
"Should've come and found us the second you arrived at Hogwarts," muttered Remus, patting James's arm rather harder than kindly. Remus, who was turning fourteen in a few weeks, was much quieter than his two siblings as well as the only Slytherin. Despite his constant denial of it, Remus was extremely caring, though he seemed to annoy his brother and sister with his continuing matter-of-fact tone.
"We had to make sure this wasn't too serious," said Antheia softly, smiling. "Though, it never is."
"Crowding around a perfectly fine person at the Hospital Wing takes me back to when Malfoy would cry over tiny injuries," said Harry. The others burst out laughing as Madam Pomfrey shot them a look.
"Difference is James isn't a ferret," laughed Antheia.
"Malfoy still looks like one, doesn't he?" said James. Antheia lifted her hand and he high-fived it at once. Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office, looking quite stern.
"Alright, Potter, your next class should be starting soon so you may go now," she sighed, looking exhausted of the five of them. "Good timing, too, as I have had quite enough of the ruckus. You are disturbing my other patients!"
"Sorry, Madam Pomfrey," said Harry, hiding a small smile. "Er - we'll all be going now. Have a good one."
So, Lily headed to her first-year Charms classes, where she would be learning the Levitation Charm. Remus went back to the Slytherin dorms for a free period and James started walking to his Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. Antheia and Harry decided to take a stroll around the Hogwarts grounds before teaching the sixth-years.
"I just needed a bit of a break before seeing a classroom full of sixth-years," groaned Antheia. "Students at that age can be unbearable."
"Oh, yeah?" asked Harry. Antheia raised her eyebrows in question. "Was I so unbearable?"
"Well ..."
"Oh, come on! You went out with me that year!"
"Yeah, after a year of - of complete nonsense!"
Harry started laughing. In truth, as the two of them looked back on their teenage years, neither could believe how young and immature they had been. Of course, maturity came with age, but one could assume that if they could face an evil wizard, they would be more grown than others their age.
"Ron was ridiculous that year," said Antheia reminiscently. "Remember when he and Hermione couldn't stop sniping at each other for months at a time?"
"They still fight, just about stupider things," said Harry, "such as what color they should paint Rose and Hugo's room. "Ron insisted on red but Hermione bought less intense colors."
"Oh, right!" said Antheia, her eyes lighting up. "We're going to Ron and Hermione's for dinner today! I almost forgot!"
"Just like old times?"
Antheia nodded.
"Ginny, Luna, Dean, and Seamus are coming, as well," reminded Harry. "Neville's too busy teaching Herbology, obviously."
"Ginny and Luna's wedding was gorgeous," awed Antheia. "I remember the radish earrings. But Dean and Seamus's was at sunset and the moving photos turned out perfect."
"Nothing beats our wedding, though," said Harry. Antheia grinned. "Especially because our ring-bearer was Snuffles!"
"Our lesson should be starting soon, so we should go quickly," said Antheia.
"You mean we can't stay and have a date underneath the Whomping Willow? We know how to stop it from attacking us."
"Afterwards," whispered Antheia, before kissing him on the cheek.
─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─
"Today, we are learning about Patronuses," said Antheia, waving her wand. "Do any of you know what a Patronus is?"
James's hand raised almost at once. Antheia nodded.
"Patronuses are used to shield yourself from a Dementor," he explained. "They act as a shield so that the Dementor can't affect you as much."
"Exactly!" said Harry happily. "The spell that's used to produce a Patronus is Expecto Patronum."
"Expecto Patronum," the sixth-years repeated.
"I'm going to be honest, this spell is quite difficult," Antheia said. "It took me a while to fully master it so I don't want you to rush. That being said, this is a corporeal Patronus." She raised her wand, and muttered the words, "Expecto Patronum."
A shiny white mare burst from the tip of her wand. It flounced around the room, a bright trail behind it as it circled the students. When it disappeared, at last, the students applauded.
"Other than the spell, you also have to think of a happy memory," said Harry. "The happiest you can think of. Think of memories with your friends or family because that's usually a good start. So - er - start trying it now and your Professor will be back tomorrow to help."
A chorus of "Expecto Patronum" erupted within the classroom. However, the only light that appeared was a silver stag from James's wand. Being the only sixth-year who had learned this before, he grinned boastfully before examining his friends' attempts at a Patronus.
Antheia was not fully sure how to help; it was clear that she had not inherited her father's talent in teaching. She felt slightly awkward as she walked around the room, offering small compliments and advice.
"Professor Lupin?"
Antheia whipped around, somehow expecting Remus Lupin to walk through the door. Then, she realized that the call was for her so, she approached the young girl that had requested her.
"Need anything?"
"I don't know what I'm supposed to be thinking of," admitted the girl. "Must be easier for you, right? With all the saving the world you've done."
"Honestly, I've nearly got more bad memories than good," said Antheia. "Focus on something that you want. Something that you live for or, or fight for."
The girl closed her eyes and waved her wand. Her lips moved, muttering the spell, but her voice wasn't audible to Antheia. Suddenly, a small wisp of silver expelled from her wand and Antheia cheered.
"We've got a Patronus here!" she shouted, as the others in the classroom turned in shock. "Non-corporeal, but it's there."
And just like that, Antheia felt as though she had made an impact. Of course, she had helped defeat Voldemort but what use was it if the future generation couldn't learn to do the same?
─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─
"This could be the last time we ever visit Hogwarts," said Antheia worriedly, as she and Harry walked the corridors. Some students turned to stare as they walked by.
"I don't think so," said Harry, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "They'll always need us again."
"Right, so I can teach them about all the amazing spells I can use now."
"Not as brilliant as my spells, though. Expelliarmus!"
"Stupefy!"
Harry and Antheia both flew back, landing a few metres away from where they had started.
"That spell's never failed me," said Harry proudly. "Not with the Death Eaters, not with Voldemort, and definitely not with you."
"'Stupefy' is the witch's bread and butter, remember?" remarked Antheia, quoting Harry's DA meetings from years ago. She had just noticed that a small crowd had surrounded them, eagerly awaiting their next move in their immature duel.
"Students! What do you think you're doing, blocking the corridors during this busy hour?"
Alas, McGonagall had found them. The students moved back as she stormed in between Antheia and Harry, both of whom hid their wands behind their backs.
"Why is it that when anything happens, it is always you two?" she sighed, shaking her head. "I don't know what I would do if Weasley and Granger were here ..."
"Sorry, Headmistress," said Antheia jokingly, curtseying as McGonagall rubbed her forehead with her fingers in exhaustion.
"Tell me it won't happen again?"
"Er - you know we can't promise that, Headmistress McGonagall," said Harry smugly. She shot them both a sharp look before walking off, a group of students following shortly after in fear of detention. Around half a dozen students remained, still looking in awe at the two, who had stopped dueling.
"Could you show us which spells you use to duel again, Mrs. Potter?" asked an excited, young Gryffindor, who reminded Antheia greatly of Colin Creevey. "Maybe even how you defeated Voldemort, Mr. Potter?"
"Not now," said Antheia, smiling softly. "Wouldn't want to upset McGonagall again, right?"
"Would be worse than reviving Voldemort from the dead," said Harry.
"Which would be impossible, of course," said Antheia curtly. "What kind of spell could awaken the dead?"
So, Harry and Antheia walked off, a trail of students still following their every move. But she refused to duel again, at least for the day.
Antheia felt she had battled enough demons for a lifetime.
─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─