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𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐒
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𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 Potter being given a rather severe-looking talk by a man she presumed to be Arthur Weasley. She kept her head down as the entirety of the Weasley family plus Hermione granger stared at her. Elara struggled with her belongings as she hauled them down a hallway. Every so often she'd peer into a compartment to see if it was empty but to no such luck.
Steam was billowing from the train it had started to move. There was one at the very end of the train but had only one occupant, a man sitting fast asleep next to the window. The Hogwarts Express was usually reserved for students and Elara had never seen an adult there before, except for the witch who pushed the food cart.
The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard's robes that had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though quite young, his light brown hair was flecked with gray.
Elara assumed him to be a Professor, from the small, battered case held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string. The name Professor R. J. Lupin was stamped across one corner in peeling letters.
She sat down across from him and opened a book Aunt Meda had gifted Elara for her birthday.
It was only a few moments later when the compartment door slid open and Elara found herself in a staring match with the Golden Trio. Ron Weasley made a movement to leave, but Hermione Granger snatched his sleeve and pulled him into the compartment with her, Harry Potter trailing behind them apprehensively.
"Who's that?" Hermione gestured to the man sleeping on the seats.
"New Defense Against The Dark Arts Professor, I guess," Elara whispered back.
Ron muttered something that Elara couldn't quite hear, but she assumed it was meant as a slight to her because Hermione looked at him incredulously before peering at Elara. She was used to the insults and whispers, so she turned back to her book. The Golden Trio took the seats furthest away from Elara and the new Professor and began to talk in hushed whispers.
Halfway through their secret conversation, Ron took out a sneakoscope and threw Elara not so discreet glares when the object began whirring. They were talking so loud, she couldn't help but overhear.
"Oh, Ron, don't talk rubbish," snapped Hermione. "Black's already murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street, do you really think he's going to worry about attacking Harry just because we're there?"
Elara raised her book just a little bit higher. It seemed no one knew of her family relation to Sirius Black, and she thanked Merlin for it. The whispers would have only grown louder.
The Hogwarts Express moved steadily north and the scenery outside the window became wilder and darker while the clouds overhead thickened. People were chasing backward and forwards past the door of the compartment. The cat with the squashed face, whose name Elara learned was Crookshanks, had now settled in an empty seat, his squashed face turned towards Ron and his yellow eyes on Ron's top pocket.
At one o'clock the plump witch with the food cart arrived at the compartment door.
"Anything from the trolley, dears?"
Harry bought the trio cauldron cakes, then their eyes fell on Elara. Her hair turned red from embarrassment ― to which Ron said, 'Wicked!' ― when she ordered a lofty pile of sweets from the cart.
"D'you think we should wake him up?" Ron asked awkwardly, nodding towards Professor Lupin. "He looks like he could do with some food."
Hermione approached Professor Lupin cautiously.
"Er — Professor?" She said. "Excuse me — Professor?"
He didn't move.
"Don't worry, dear," said the witch, as she handed a large stack of cauldron cakes. "If he's hungry when he wakes, I'll be upfront with the driver."
The trolley witch closed the door to the compartment.
He might not be very good company, but Professor Lupin's presence in the compartment had its uses. Mid-Afternoon, just as it had started to rain, blurring the rolling hills outside the window, there heard footsteps outside in the corridor again, and Elara's three least favorite people appeared at the door: her lovely cousin Draco Malfoy, flanked by his cronies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.
Draco and Elara had never gotten along well. They were raised with different ideologies, therefore insinuating many, many arguments. Draco, who had a pale, pointed, sneering face, was in Slytherin house. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to exist just to do Draco's bidding. They were both wide and muscley; Crabbe was taller, with a pudding bowl haircut and a very thick neck; Goyle had short, bristly hair and long, gorilla arms.
"Well, look who it is," said Draco in his usual lazy drawl, pulling open the compartment door. "Potty and the Weasel ― and my darling cousin, so it seems."
Crabbe and Goyle chuckled trollishly.
"I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley," said Draco. "Did your mother die of shock?"
If there was one thing elara hated most, it was her cousin's inability to see he had a superiority complex.
"Shut up, Draco. Not everyone gets things handed to them on a silver platter by mummy and daddy," snapped Elara, resting her book on her lap.
Before Draco could retort back, Professor Lupin gave an odd sort of snort.
"Who's that?" said Draco, taking an automatic step backward as he spotted Lupin.
"New teacher," said Harry, who got to his feet in case he needed to hold Ron back. "What were you saying, Malfoy?"
Draco's pale eyes narrowed; he wasn't fool enough to pick a fight right under a teacher's nose.
"C'mon," he muttered resentfully to Crabbe and Goyle, and they disappeared.
The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, but still, Professor Lupin slept.
"We must be nearly there," said Ron, leaning forward to look past Professor Lupin at the now completely black window. The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down. "Great. I'm starving. I want to get to the feast. . . ."
"We can't be there yet," said Hermione, checking her watch.
"So why are we stopping?"
Elara had no idea why, call it intuition, but something didn't feel right. The train was getting slower and slower. as the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows. Harry, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor.
The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.
"What the bloody ― "
"What's going on?"
Elara was cut off by Ron, who by the sounds of it was in front of her.
"Ouch!" gasped Hermione. "Ron, that was my foot!"
"D'you think we've broken down?" said Harry.
"It can't be," said Elara aloud.
"What do you think it is then?" bit Ron.
"I don't know," wondered Elara warily, "but it can't be good."
She wiped the window behind her, and some light filtered in.
"It seems like people are boarding, but I've got this horrible feeling. . . ."
The compartment door suddenly opened.
"Sorry! D'you know what's going on? Ouch! Sorry —"
"Hullo, Neville," said Harry.
"Harry? Is that you? What's happening?"
"No idea! Sit down —"
There were a loud hissing and a yelp of pain; Neville had tried to sit on Crookshanks.
"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," came Hermione's voice.
Elara heard the door slide open again, and then a thud and two loud squeals of pain.
"Who's that?"
"Who's that?"
"Ginny?"
"Hermione?"
"What are you doing?"
"I was looking for Ron —"
"Come in and sit down —"
"Not here!" said Harry hurriedly. "I'm here!"
"Ouch!" said Neville.
"Quiet!" said a hoarse voice suddenly.
Professor Lupin appeared to have woken up at last. Elara could hear movements in his corner. None of them spoke. There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of flames. They illuminated his tired, gray face, but his eyes looked alert and wary.
"Stay where you are," he said in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him.
But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it.
Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin's hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Elara's eyes darted downward, and what she saw made her stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in the water. . . .
But it was visible only for a split second. as though the creature beneath the cloak sensed Elara's gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak. And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.
Dementor.
An intense cold swept over Elara. She felt her own breath catch in her chest. The cold went deeper than her skin. It was inside her chest, it was inside her very heart. . . .
Elara stumbled back and hit the wall of the train behind her. The Dementor seemed to drift toward her as if it was angry. She couldn't see. She was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in her ears as though of water. She was being dragged downward, the roaring growing louder. . . .
And then, from far away, she heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams. They were begging for mercy. . . . Elara wanted to help whoever it was, she tried to move her arms, but couldn't. . . . A thick white fog was swirling around her, inside her — The darkness overwhelmed Elara when she heard a ruthless laugh of glee and her knees buckled.
"Elara? Are you okay?"
Someone was poking her arm. Elara groaned and opened her eyes, almost automatically closing them when met with a blinding flash of light.
"Have ― Have I died?"
She was met with a burst of wary laughter. Elara opened her eyes fully; there were lanterns above her, and the floor was shaking — The Hogwarts Express was moving again and the lights had come back on. Hermione kneeled next to her, and above them, she could see Neville Longbottom and Professor Lupin watching. Elara felt very sick; when she put up her up hand to push back her hair, she felt cold sweat on her face.
"Your hair. . . ." Hermione's eyes rose to the top of elara's head.
Elara eyes moved to the compartment floor beside her and to her exasperation saw that her mess of hair had turned a pure shade of white. Rubbing her temple, she pushed herself back up despite the fact her knees were still weak from when she had fallen.
"Are you two okay?" asked Ron nervously.
All previous signs of bitterness seemed to have gone.
"Yeah," said Harry, looking quickly toward the door. Elara glanced over too; the hooded creature had vanished. "What happened? Where's that — that thing? Who screamed?"
"I heard screaming too... but who was laughing?" said Elara, and all eyes turned to her.
"No one laughed or screamed," said Ron, more nervously still.
Elara looked around the bright compartment. Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom looked back at her, both very pale.
"But I heard screaming —" Harry trailed off, looking distressed.
"Someone had to have laughed, I heard it ― "
A loud snap made them all jump. Professor Lupin was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces.
"Here," he said to Elara and Harry, handing them particularly large pieces. "Eat it. It'll help."
Elara gratefully took the piece of chocolate and bit into it. The familiar sweetness spread over her tongue, and some of her warmth was regained.
Harry took the chocolate but didn't eat it.
"What was that thing?" He asked Lupin.
"A Dementor," answered Elara before Lupin, who was now giving chocolate to everyone else. "One of the Dementors of Azkaban."
Everyone stared at her, especially Neville, who looked like he was struggling with himself. Professor Lupin crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket.
"Eat," Lupin repeated. "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me. . . ."
He strolled past Elara and Harry and disappeared into the corridor.
"You two are sure you're okay?" said Hermione, watching them anxiously.
"I don't get it. . . . What happened?" said Harry, wiping more sweat off his face.
"Well — that thing — the Dementor — stood there and looked around (I mean, I think it did, I couldn't see its face) — it zeroed in on Elara ― and you — harry ― you —"
"I thought you both were having a fit or something," said Ron, who still looked scared. "Harry, you went sort of rigid and fell out of your seat and started twitching. . . . and Lestrange, your knees buckled and you hit the ground really hard —"
"And Professor Lupin stepped over you, Harry, and walked toward the dementor, and pulled out his wand," said Hermione, "and he said, 'None of us are hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' but the Dementor didn't move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away..."
"It was horrible," said Neville, in a higher voice than usual. "Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?"
"I felt weird," said Ron, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. "as if I'd never be cheerful again. . . ."
Ginny, who was huddled in her corner looking nearly as bad as Elara felt, gave a small sob; Hermione went over and put a comforting arm around her. Elara's heart panged for the youngest Weasley. Dementors are supposed to make you relieve your darkest moments. Elara had no doubt in her mind that Ginny had been pulled back into the Chamber of Secrets.
"But didn't any of you — fall off your seats?" said Harry awkwardly.
"No," said Ron, looking anxiously at Harry again. "Well, Lestrange fell, but she was already standing. . . . and Ginny was shaking like mad, though. . . ."
"Please," implored Elara, still shivering, "call me Elara. I'm uh — I'm not fond of my last name."
She noticed Neville's expression soften slightly, but the anger was still present. She didn't blame him after what her mother had done. However, she still didn't fully understand. She felt weak and shivery, as though she were recovering from a bad bout of flu. Why had no one else collapsed as she and Harry had?
Professor Lupin had come back.
He paused as he entered, looked around, and said, with a small smile, "I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know..."
Elara ate the rest of her chocolate, sighing quietly as she felt the warmth fill her body again; from her head to her toes. She also assumed her hair had drifted back to normal as everyone in the compartment was peering at her once again.
"We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes," said Professor Lupin. "Are you all right, you two?"
"Fine," Elara muttered, embarrassed.
·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .
AUTHOR'S NOTE
— so from now on I'll be editing the
chapters of o cursed child to my liking!!
Edited: December 26, 2020