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( the breakfast )
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━━ The morning after the party, nearly every sixth and seventh year groaned as they rose out of bed. Mila hadn't done any drinking, but she was certainly tired after staying up nearly the whole night; that was enough to elicit a groan out of her.
She spent the weekend with Harry. They didn't do anything in particular, but it was exactly what both of them needed. They hung out in the common room, discussing what had happened to each of them in their time apart.
"How was Sirius? I didn't really get to see him."
Harry chuckled, "He wasn't happy about that. First thing he asked me every morning was if we made up and when you were coming over."
"Man, I'm glad I had Remus then. I did not want a constant reminder."
"You were lucky," Harry agreed, "I didn't believe that veela lie for a second. As soon as Sirius got back from your house, he told me off for being such an idiot."
"Well, clearly you didn't listen," Mila teased.
He nodded half-heartedly, but his mind was elsewhere, "He kept saying that it's important you had people you loved around you."
"Huh? Why?"
"He just said you would need it."
Mila's forehead creased, "You know, Harry? I think your godfather's getting kooky in his old age."
"He's thirty eight, Mila."
"Still."
"I'll tell him you said that," Harry said.
"You're such a tattletale, Potter."
"Anyway, what did you and Lupin do?"
Mila thought back to her very uneventful holiday, "We finished painting his house. That was pretty fun."
"Wow, I didn't realise you had become such a nun without me."
"Shut up. It was nice. He had so many things that needed doing. We put shelves up, we scrubbed every square surface of the house. Oh my gosh, Harry! I forgot to tell you. I even have my own room. Not bad for an orphan, huh?"
Even though she had spent her holidays there, she hadn't truly let herself enjoy her new home. With Harry problems and ❛ family ❜ problems ( if you could even call them that ) she felt guilty that she hadn't fully appreciated what Lupin had done for her. She made a mental note to go see him in his office later.
"How are you doing with that, by the way?" Harry asked.
She warmly noted her friend's concerned face. She didn't ever think she would have missed Harry's overprotectiveness so much, but it was nice to have him back. And she needed to talk about it.
"I'm not sure, to be honest. So I'm a Rosier, okay. But what do I do with that information? What can I do? There isn't anything to be done."
"You could try find out which one? That would be something."
She found herself shaking her head, "It wouldn't change anything. Draco said they're all dead anyway."
"It could change something. Maybe they──your parents──aren't as bad as you think. I mean, isn't that what your whole Slytherin agenda is about? That they're not all horrible?"
A small laugh escaped her, "Nicely put. I'll think about it."
"Trust me, if Ron can be a semi-pleasant pureblood, then so can you."
"You really do have a way with words," she said.
"Well I am the Boy Who Lived," he deadpanned.
"And you never let me forget it."
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━━ Mila's talk with Harry had helped. It was stuff that had either been said to her before, or that she had thought to herself, but it makes a huge difference when it comes from someone who knows you as well as you know yourself.
Harry had assignments to work on ( and really, so did Mila ) but she left him to it and went to find Lupin. There was probably a low chance that he would be in his office on a Saturday, of all days, but Mila held steady with the youthful assumption that teachers were only ever in a class or in their office. ( Besides, it was Remus Lupin. )
His office was exactly where she found him.
He looked up from the piles of paper on his desk, "Mila. Are you alright?"
"Course I am. Can't a girl visit her best friend's godfather's best friend who also happens to be her teacher when she feels like it?"
"Well, when you put it that way," he joked before gesturing a hand to the chair opposite him. She took a seat, and Lupin anxiously ran a hand through his hair, thinking Mila had come in for a whole different reason than to ❛ visit ❜.
"I'm sorry for putting you in that situation yesterday. I had no idea your boggart would be so..."
"Embarrassing?"
"I was going to say upsetting."
He was surprised when she smiled, "It actually worked out for the best," she said.
"How so?"
"Bridges were mended, dates were set, houses were momentarily united. The list could go on," she mused.
"So I suppose I should say, you're welcome?" Lupin asked.
"For that," Mila nodded, "And for the holidays. I forgot to thank you for those."
Lupin reflected on the two weeks they had spent together, "I should be thanking you. My house has never looked better."
"I suspected as much. But I meant for the talk. And the distraction. And for actually letting a clumsy oaf like me live in your house."
"I take it you're expecting an invitation for the next holidays."
"And many more after that," she laughed.
His face grew more serious, "And you and Harry?"
"We made up last night at the par──" She shut her mouth quickly.
The small amused smile that Mila had grown fond of made its way onto Lupin's face, "You seem to forget who I went to school with, Mila. I know about the party."
Her smile became sheepish, "The invite got lost in the mail?" She shrugged innocently.
"I bet."
"But anyway. All is right in the world. The dream team is back together. Everyone can stop worrying."
He bent his head in acknowledgement, "And your date?"
"You sure don't let anything slide. I'm going to the ball."
Lupin's face grew thoughtful, "With Harry?"
Another confession was in order.
"With Draco..." She carefully watched for his reaction.
"I see. And you're happy with this development?"
She hadn't thought about that actually.
Leave it to Lupin to ask her the unexpected.
"I'm not sure. But I think so."
If Mila had had to guess the look Lupin would give her after sharing this news, the last she would have picked was wistful. But alas.
He smiled wanly, as was usual for someone with his condition, "You deserve to have fun, Mila."
A little confused, but way more content than she had been in a while, she answered, "Thanks professor."
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━━ When Monday rolled around it was nice to be able to walk out into the Gryffindor common room without having to avoid someone. And it was even nicer when said person sat beside them on the couch in front of the unlit fire.
"You done the homework for McGonagall?" Harry asked, and it was like no time had passed at all.
She hadn't, of course, but she'd already come up with thirteen excuses: one of which McGonagall would have to buy.
While Mila had a light heart, and little to no worries, it was only at breakfast she realised she had a problem.
She'd been sitting with the Slytherins every breakfast since the beginning of the term, and while that hadn't been an issue while she was on the outs with her friends, she found herself stuck at what to do once she entered the dining hall. Harry noticed and stopped beside her to ask her what was wrong.
"It's just uh, well ... my social experiment dictates that I eat breakfast with..."
"Slytherins," he finished, before taking a breath, "Well, why don't you go ask them if they want to sit with us?"
"Wait, really?"
He gave a strained smile, "Really."
"I doubt they're ready for such an honor."
This caused Harry to sigh. He hated it when she made ❛ famous ❜ jokes.
"Just go ask them, will you?"
She nodded, "I don't know how much sway you think I have over them, but I can almost guarantee you that this is not going to work."
She set off to the serpent table. When Draco saw her, she was almost blown over by the grin he threw her way, and so was the rest of the school. The chattering grew louder, and if the ❛ Mila and Draco are dating ❜ rumor wasn't already fully ignited, it certainly was now.
She didn't even think Draco had realised that he'd done it. When he heard the rest of the school grow louder and when Nott had whispered something to him, he seemed to catch himself and sobered his face up. By the time she got to the table, she was treated to one of his, very toned down, ordinary smirks.
It wasn't him who caught her eye, however. Blaise Zabini was practically sleeping in his baked beans. His eyes had dark circles, and he was clutching his head.
"Looking good there, Blaise."
A very low voice labored out of him, "Don't call me that."
"Nice to see you're back to normal. And don't worry, if you start falling, I'll catch you."
"I hate you."
Malfoy leaned back in his chair, "You're looking unusually perky, Lovett."
"Can't imagine why. I promised this ponce a date. Poor bloke's been pining after me. It would have been a uncharitable of me to say no."
"He's probably had better offers."
"You're quite right. He actually has one now..." She paused, trying not to lose her nerve, "Harry wants you guys to sit with us."
Zabini had been looking at the pair of them strangely, and rather than protest her latest invitation, he looked resigned, "This whole thing isn't going away, is it?"
"I'm afraid not, Blaise," she said.
He was the first out of his chair, "Come on then. Let's get this farce over with."
Nott, Draco and Mila all stood stunned for a moment before scrambling to follow him.
"Is anyone else finding this unusual?" Mila whispered.
Nott was walking in front of her, "He's been quiet all weekend. I think the party gave him a few things to think about."
She was pleased with that.
"Are you sure I should be doing this, Lovett?" Malfoy asked nervously from behind her. That was definitely unusual too.
She tried to put aside her own nerves, "Harry was the one who invited you. It'll be fine."
By the time they got to the Gryffindor table, the dining hall was buzzing.
Just what was Mila Lovett doing, dragging three Slytherins to her table?
Mila was asking herself the same thing. It was too soon. She'd been thinking something like this was more phase fifty-seven of a plan, not phase two. But Harry was the kind of person who inspired change. Now that he was helping, the possibilities were endless.
The four of them stood on one side of the table, while Ron, Harry and Hermione were already seated on the other. They had obviously made room.
Nott was the first one to sit down. Zabini had lost his nerve, and Mila and Malfoy were too stunned too function.
Malfoy gave Mila one last look, which basically was the physical embodiment of ❛ this is a terrible idea ❜. But once he sat, she followed suit. She ended up between Malfoy and Nott, Zabini on Nott's other side.
"Hello," Hermione tried to say, though it was hard to hear her through the noise of the hall. Harry was beside her, putting on his most diplomatic smile.
"Hi," Nott said politely ( a very Nott thing to do ).
Zabini didn't answer. He seemed to be scoping out the table, though Mila had no idea why. Nobody was gearing up to attack him. Yet.
"So, Mila, how's Care of Magical Creatures? Is Hagrid okay?" Hermione asked.
Bless her.
"It's good," she nodded, "Hagrid misses you guys. We haven't visited in an while."
"We should try to fit that in before we have to start properly studying for exams," Hermione said.
Ugh.
Exams.
Mila had not done one ounce of preparation. Since it went towards their NEWTs, sixth and seventh years were supposed to push themselves as hard as possible. At least, that's what people kept telling her.
"Oh come on, Hermione, we haven't even got to the ball yet!" Ron said tactfully.
Harry looked down at his cereal.
"Ronald, the ball is one night. Exams can affect the rest of our lives," Hermione argued.
Mila couldn't help but state her own opinion, "Hermione, when we look back at school in twenty years, are we going to remember being cramped over a book? No. We're going to remember all the fun dances, the pranks, the parties ... need I go on?"
Ron groaned, regretting saying anything in the first place, "And in another episode of the ❛ work versus play ❜ debate..."
"Mila, I've said it before, and I'll say it again. You do not put enough hours of study in. I don't know how you get the grades you do, but you can't rely on natural talent forever."
Mila was about to apologise on Hermione's behalf for their new guests, but Malfoy had something to say first.
"I agree with Hermione."
She looked at him in disbelief, "You do?"
"Lovett, I've seen you use nonverbal spells half a dozen times, but I've never seen you once open a textbook. You're such a showboater."
Even Harry started nodding in agreement, "You are very dramatic," he said.
"Wow, I knew you guys would need to find some common ground, but does it have to be all my flaws? Blaise, back me up."
He looked toward the group disinterestedly, ignoring the way she lightly smacked his shoulder, "I don't care about you enough to have an opinion."
Harry, Ron and Hermione all seemed to be holding their breaths, but Malfoy and Nott cracked a smile while Mila laughed. Her friends probably weren't use to the way Blaise showed ❛ affection ❜.
Breakfast was almost over, and though the conversation became fairly stilted at points, she was impressed with the effort her friends, on both ends, were putting in. Except Blaise. There really wasn't any from him.
He left, quite abruptly, before anyone else. Mila was the only person to have a suspicion why. The rest of the Gryffindors at the table had certainly not warmed up to their guests, despite the party last night. Seamus Finnegan, who was not intoxicated that morning, happened to slide away when the laughter in their conversation had gotten a little too strong. Mila was worried that the only friend Zabini had made at the party last night, and possibly ever, had just rejected the notion of talking to him.
To his credit, Malfoy quickly covered it with some excuse that Zabini was not a ❛ people person ❜. It was a little weird after that, but things turned around when Neville came and sat happily with them, and started discussing some Herbology experiment with Nott. It turned out the roots of Mila's plan were beginning to grow in all sorts of places.
When it was time for class, everybody in the group was a little relieved, but it was a start. Mila was ready to stand, but an owl delivering some late post flew past her, and dropped a letter right in her lap. Harry gave her a questioning look and she shrugged, wondering who it was from.
She had never been used to receiving letters, particularly in her younger years at Hogwarts. After meeting Missus Weasley, however, she found it didn't faze her much anymore. But Missus Weasley wasn't the author this time.
Mila ──
❛ Unlike you and Harry, who both seem to have forgotten I exist, I do my part in maintaining my friendships. It was Remus that had to inform me of your reconciliation, and though I hate to say I told you so ... I told you so.
I knew Harry would come around. He kept quiet during the holidays, but I could tell he was feeling some sort of guilt. I told him it was okay for him to take time to figure things out, and from Remus' ( and Hermione's ) intel, I feel that maybe it was for the best. ( Do you see how good I am at being a godfather? You do, right? )
Anyways, I digress. Remus and Dumbledore have agreed to let me help ❛ supervise ❜ your ball this Friday, so long as I heavily disguise myself. It will be a shame to disfigure my face when there are so many deserving ladies present, but it's a price I'm willing to pay.
Hopefully there will be time for a chat ... we have a lot of catching up to do.
Tell Harry I miss his justifiably angsty presence. ❜
── Sirius
So Sirius was coming to the ball. That would be fun. Mila wondered if Harry knew yet, but he might have had his own letter on the way. She was surprised Sirius hadn't said anything about Draco, though maybe Lupin had left out that part during their correspondence. Thank Godric for that.
The letter had put her in a good mood. When Transfiguration rolled around, she was in an even better one. It only took one attempt for her to successfully cast a bird-conjuring charm, and birds fluttered around the room mocking other students with their whistles. Of course, her mood was somewhat ruined when McGonagall gave her a detention for making them fly to the kitchens to bring her a muffin.
"I just don't understand how you do it, Mila," Harry groaned.
She smirked, "It's a gift."
Both of them missed the look Ron and Hermione exchanged. To Ron, so many things made sense about Mila after Hermione's revelation to him. Little details he had missed were suddenly pieces in a puzzle that nobody had put to together over the years. Not unless you could already see the full picture.
He hadn't realised how difficult keeping this secret would be. Hermione was the only one he could talk to about it, and he'd come to see how much she had been suffering with it herself. He hadn't talked to any of the teachers, nor Sirius, and understood why it was only Hermione who had been entrusted with it. He felt like he could burst any minute. Mila was his friend, and though she seemed to think the worst of her trouble was over, she had no idea what people were hiding from her.
When Ron looked at McGonagall, who was studying Mila's birds from afar, he suspected she might be thinking the same thing.
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━━ That evening, Lupin had called yet another meeting with the Headmaster.
"Remus, please sit. I understand you have some concerns."
Lupin nodded his tired head, and sat down in the chair opposite Dumbledore's desk.
"Thanks for seeing me, Albus. It's about the ball."
"I had a feeling it might be." Dumbledore's glasses glinted from the light of his desk lamp.
Lupin drew a breath, "I feel unsure in our decision to let Sirius come. Not just for his safety, but because I'm afraid..."
Dumbledore was the type of man to lead a horse to water, "Afraid of?"
"Afraid he might say something."
"To Mila."
It wasn't a question.
Dumbledore turned his head to the birdcage beside his desk. He looked at his phoenix thoughtfully, recalling the time it had saved young Harry and Mila's lives.
"Lupin, you have put her protection first all these years. This secret has been a burden, I suspect it has burdened you moreso than the rest. But it has been necessary."
"I know that," Lupin was curious what exactly Dumbledore was trying to say.
"She believes the story is done. She has discovered who her family is, which I admit surprised the lot of us. I thought that was a question that would never be answered. But it has, and she is content."
"This isn't about her being content, this is about Sirius being so reckless that he won't be able to help himself."
Dumbledore hummed, "Sirius knows that things have ... returned to normal. If what you say is true and Mister Potter and Miss Lovett have forgiven one another, then I do not believe Sirius will jeopardise that. Despite how reckless you believe he is."
Lupin was not satisfied with that answer, and he didn't believe a man like Dumbledore would be.
"I want him there, I do. But we've worked so hard for this peace that you claim we're in. It's such a risk."
"I disagree, and I have already permitted Sirius to come. Try not to worry, Remus."
It sounded more like a dismissal than anything. Lupin slowly rose.
"I suppose I'll get going," he said, and Dumbledore nodded in acknowledgment, saying his goodbyes.
Before Lupin left his office, he turned back to look at the white-haired man. A rather intruding thought struck him. Dumbledore sat at his desk like a puppet master who thought he knew best for those whose strings he pulled.
Lupin exited without another word.
"You may come out now, Minerva," Dumbledore said when he saw the werewolf had left.
A tabby cat jumped into the chair Lupin had occupied. McGonagall appeared with a rather sharp look on her face.
"Tread carefully, Albus. This is a girl's life we are talking about."
Dumbledore considered her, "I am all too aware."
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