｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓
｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 was dull. Elara clambered into a near-full carriage with some second years to avoid the fervent stares of the Golden Trio plus Neville and Ginny. Although, sitting with a bunch of second-years didn't prove much better as they were all wide-eyed and whispering crazily whilst sitting as far away from Elara as possible.
The coach smelled faintly of mold and straw. Elara felt better since the chocolate, but still weak. The second-years kept looking at her sideways, as though frightened she might hex them. She had to admit, the prospect of doing so was tempting
As the carriage trundled toward a pair of magnificent wrought iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars, Elara saw two more towering, hooded Dementors, standing guard on either side. A wave of cold sickness threatened to engulf her again; she leaned back into the lumpy seat and closed her eyes until they had passed the gates. The carriage picked up speed on the long, sloping drive up to the castle; Elara was leaning out of the tiny window, watching the many turrets and towers draw nearer. At last, the carriage swayed to a halt, and Elara waited until the second-years were out.
She often wondered why no one spoke of or seemed to notice the strange-looking horses that pulled the carriage as she stepped onto the stoned ground.
"You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually fainted?"
Before anyone else could stand up to him, Elara called, "I did too, Draco. Pick on me instead, why don't you?"
Draco turned to stare at Elara, who was stood still a couple of yards behind him.
"So, Potter," drawled Draco, not tearing his gaze away from Elara, "seems like you got a girlfriend."
"Shove off, Malfoy," said Ron, whose jaw was clenched.
"Did you faint as well, Weasley?" said Draco loudly. "Did the scary old Dementor frighten you too, Weasley?"
"Is there a problem?" said a mild voice.
Professor Lupin had just gotten out of the next carriage behind Elara's. Draco gave Professor Lupin an insolent stare, which took in the patches on his robes and the dilapidated suitcase.
With a tiny hint of sarcasm in his voice, he said, "Oh, no — er — Professor," then he smirked at Crabbe and Goyle and led them up the steps into the castle.
The Trio peered at Elara. She huffed, annoyed at the sudden attention she was gathering. Hermione prodded Ron in the back to make him hurry, and the three of them joined the crowds warming up the steps with Elara trailing far behind them trying to ignore the stares, through the giant oak front doors, into the cavernous entrance hall, which was lit with flaming torches, and housed a magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors.
The door into the great hall stood open at the right; Elara followed the crowd toward it, but had barely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling, which was black and cloudy tonight, when a voice called, "Lestrange! Potter! Granger! I want to see you three!"
Elara turned around, surprised. Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and head of Gryffindor house, was calling over the heads of the crowd. She was a stern-looking witch who wore her hair in a tight bun; her sharp eyes were framed with square spectacles. Elara fought her way over to McGonagall with a feeling of foreboding: Professor McGonagall had a way of making Elara feel she must have done something wrong.
"There's no need to look so worried — I just want a word in my office," she told the three of them. "Move along there, Weasley."
Ron stared as Professor McGonagall ushered Elara, Harry, and Hermione away from the chattering crowd; they accompanied her across the entrance hall, up the marble staircase, and along a corridor. Once they were in her office, a small room with a large, welcoming fire, Professor McGonagall motioned Elara, Harry, and Hermione to sit down.
She settled herself behind her desk and said abruptly, "Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you two were taken ill on the train, Lestrange, Potter."
Before Elara could reply, there was a soft knock on the door and Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, came bustling in.
"I'm fine," Elara and Harry chorused.
"Oh, it's you, is it?" said Madam Pomfrey, ignoring this and bending down to stare closely at Harry. "I suppose you've been doing something dangerous again? And Lestrange? This is the first time I've seen you in a long time."
"It was a Dementor, Poppy," said Professor McGonagall.
They exchanged a dark look, and Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly.
"Setting Dementors around a school," she muttered, placing a hand on Elara's forehead. "They won't be the last ones to collapse. Yes, she's all clammy. Terrible things, they are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate —"
"I'm not delicate!" chorused Elara and Harry, again.
"Of course you two aren't," said Madam Pomfrey absentmindedly, now taking her pulse.
She had moved on checking Harry when professor McGonagall began to speak.
"What do they need?" said Professor McGonagall crisply. "Bedrest? Should they perhaps spend tonight in the hospital wing?"
"No!" said Elara, jumping up.
How she hated being weak and out of control.
"I'm fine!" shouted Harry, who was now also on his feet.
"Well, they should have some chocolate, at the very least," said Madam Pomfrey, who was now trying to peer into Harry's eyes.
"We've already had some," said Harry. "Professor Lupin gave us some. He gave it to all of us."
"Did he, now?" said Madam Pomfrey approvingly. "So we've finally got a Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher who knows his remedies?"
"Are you sure you feel alright, you two?" Professor McGonagall said sharply.
"Yes," said Harry.
"I'm fine," grumbled Elara.
"Very well. Kindly wait outside while I have a quick word with Miss Granger about her course schedule, then we can go down to the feast together."
Harry and Elara went back into the corridor with Madam Pomfrey, who left for the hospital wing, muttering to herself.
"So you heard. . . . laughing?" asked Harry awkwardly.
"It was more like cackling," she answered, and they lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.
They had to wait only a few minutes; then Hermione emerged looking very happy about something, followed by Professor McGonagall, and the four of them made their way back down the marble staircase to the great hall.
It was a sea of pointed black hats; each of the long house tables was lined with students, their faces glimmering by the light of thousands of candles, which were floating over the tables in midair. Professor Flitwick, who was a tiny little wizard with a shock of white hair, was carrying an ancient hat and a three-legged stool out of the hall.
"Oh," said Hermione softly, "we've missed the Sorting!"
New students at Hogwarts were sorted into houses by trying on the sorting hat, which shouted out the house they were best suited to (Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin). Professor McGonagall strode off toward her empty seat at the staff table, and Elara, Harry, and Hermione set off in the other direction, as quietly as possible, toward the Gryffindor table.
People looked around at them as they passed along the back of the hall, and a few of them pointed at either Elara or Harry. The whispers were louder than before, and Elara had no doubt they weren't kind.
She took a seat in a relatively empty section of the Gryffindor table as Harry and Hermione sat on either side of Ron. She kept her head down to avoid seeing all the people who were staring at her. She had gone so long without voluntarily putting herself in the spotlight, and now here she was, being dragged into the Golden Trio's business.
The whispers started again, but at that moment the Headmaster stood up to speak, and they broke off.
Professor Dumbledore, though very old, always gave an impression of great energy. He had several feet of long silver hair and beard, half-moon spectacles, and an extremely crooked nose. He was often described as the greatest wizard of the age, but that wasn't why Elara respected him. You couldn't help trusting Albus Dumbledore, and as she watched him beaming around at the students, she felt truly calm for the first time since the Dementor had entered the train compartment.
"Welcome!" said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast..."
Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "as you will all be aware after their search of The Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."
He did not seem happy with the changes.
"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added blandly.
Who the hell would have an Invisibility Cloak?
"It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I, therefore, warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new head boy and girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the Dementors."
Percy Weasley, who was sitting a few seats down from Elara, puffed out his chest and stared around impressively. Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.
"On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with Professor Lupin clapped hard, Elara among them. Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes.
Elara's eyes drifted over to Professor Snape, the Potions master, who was staring along with the staff table at Professor Lupin. It was common knowledge that Snape wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, but even Elara, who didn't particularly like Snape, was startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face. It was beyond anger: it was loathing. Elara knew that expression only too well; it was the look she received every day from different students.
"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away. "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his Gamekeeping duties."
Elara stared at Dumbledore, stunned. Then she joined in with the applause, which was tumultuous at the Gryffindor table in particular. She leaned forward to see Hagrid, who was ruby red in the face and staring down at his enormous hands, his wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard.
"We should've known!" Ron roared over the applause, pounding the table. "Who else would have assigned us a biting book?"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were the last to stop clapping, and as Professor Dumbledore started speaking again, they saw that Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.
"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore. "Let the feast begin!"
·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .
AUTHOR'S NOTE
― sometimes I think I do something
dumb, and then I remember I wrote
the majority of this book in lowercase
Edited: December 26, 2020