Coup de Foudre
Chapter One: I Do Bequeath
The first night of term was a clear one, though Asha was sure she'd never quite get used to the biting cold.
It's good to be home. Asha thought, looking up at Hogwarts castle. Her dark hair blew in the Scottish highland wind, and she wished she had thought to bring an elastic with her - they were all safely packed away in the very bottom of her trunk, and it was too much trouble to go digging through for one now. Briskly tucking flyaway strands behind her ears, she trudged through the gates in search of her friends.
She hadn't caught the Hogwarts Express that year, because her father had business in Hogsmeade and had offered to see her off.
They had sat in the Three Broomsticks for hours, drinking warm butterbeer and whispering conspiratorially about the many bizarre patrons they spied from their seats in the corner of the bar. They'd talked about what Asha was looking forward to this school year - Charms, seeing her friends, six months without her mother's awful cooking - as well as what she was dreading - namely going so long without seeing her family, who she loved very dearly, and the O.W.L.s.
She craned her neck as reached the Entrance Hall, tall enough that she could see over the heads of most of the crowd. Asha had reached an impressive height for a girl of her age, and was often peering over the tops of heads at the behest of her shorter friends.
Out of the corner of her eye, Asha spotted a flash of dark red hair. Lily.
"Oi!" She called out, not caring much for the startled looks of those surrounding her. "Oi, Lily!"
The redhead swivelled around, scanning the crowd for the source of her voice; and when at last she spied Asha her face broke into a wide, beaming smile.
"Ash!" Lily called back, waving her over. "C'mon, Grace is already inside."
Asha ducked and weaved through the crowd, finally emerging on the other side having unceremoniously elbowed some random sixth-year Ravenclaw in her haste. She felt him glowering at the back of her head, but paid no mind as she linked arms with Lily and walked into the Great Hall.
The Hall was still only half-full, so finding Grace at the Gryffindor table was easy. Though not quite as tall as Asha, Grace stood at a respectable height, and her curly, chestnut-brown hair was rather distinctive, even in this sea of faces. She was reading a muggle novel - of course she is, Asha thought wryly - and seemed to be doing her utmost to ignore the noisy clamor of the hall.
Asha jogged forward, descending upon Grace and without warning or ceremony, and pulled her into a rib-crushing hug. "I've missed you!"
Grace startled slightly at the unexpected contact, but then laughed and squeezed her arms around Asha's middle, pulling her down onto the bench space alongside her.
Grace Jones and Asha Moor had been instant friends, right from the moment that they'd first met on the Hogwarts Express all those years ago. In her nervousness, Asha had made a very lame joke about the brick wall leading to Platform 9 ¾, and in her consonant nervousness, Grace had laughed. Their eyes had met, and from that moment on they'd been nigh inseparable. It had, of course, been a long time since they had resembled the scared, awkward little girls who had once sat in that carriage, chattering about what was to come. Now they were fifth years - bolder and braver and perhaps wiser (though Asha privately doubted this).
"Ash," Grace grinned, "another year, eh?"
The monotony of the months that Asha and Grace had spent apart had been assuaged by countless, long letters. But Asha couldn't help but feel that this was nothing compared to having the real, breathing Grace Jones before her.
"Perceptive, Grace," Asha quipped, "nine outstanding O.W.L.s for you, then?"
"Cow," Grace scoffed, unaffected. "Do you think-"
"PADFOOT! OI, PADFOOT!" Their conversation was interrupted by the bellowing voice of one James Potter.
Sirius Black, who had been sitting in uncharacteristic quiet across the table from them, grinned at the sight of James sprinting towards them. "Where's the fire, Prongs?"
"In the Entrance Hall! Wormtail got pelted with dungbombs! And Marlene McKinnon got a picture!" James said with breathless laughter, slumping down in the seat next to Sirius. "God, I love Peeves!"
"Of course Peter got hit," said Sirius airily. "I told Peeves to get him, didn't I? Gave him the dungbombs myself, not five minutes ago."
"Gave Marlene the camera, too, I bet." James said, giving his friend a congratulatory slap on the back.
"Might've done." Sirius grinned.
The boys burst into laughter at their prank, and many of the surrounding Gryffindors joined in. Asha, however, couldn't keep the disgusted look off her face as she observed the pair. Lily didn't seem too impressed either, but that was her standard James-related protocol.
"I swear," Asha muttered to her friends, "if Slughorn sticks me next to Black again, I might just drop Potions next year."
"You wouldn't," Grace said calmly. "You'd never leave me when you love me so."
"What about me?" Lily demanded good-naturedly. "I'm the one who got you through the last Potions exam, remember?"
"True," Asha said solemnly, "you know we'd be lost without you, Lil."
Lily beamed, heartily pleased, and began chatting with Mary MacDonald, who sat to her left, leaving Asha and Grace to themselves. Or at least, so they had hoped.
"Oi, Moor!" Sirius said, leaning towards Asha over the table. "How was your summer?"
"All the better for not seeing you, Black." Asha shot back immediately, suddenly becoming very interested in the Gryffindor banners that hung overhead.
"You wound me." He said, slumping down in his seat, miming pulling a knife from his chest dramatically, grinning wickedly all the while. "However shall I go on?"
Her gaze flickered to him for a nanosecond, before she returned her focus to the enchanted ceiling. "Ideally, you won't."
Grace shook her head despairingly as Asha and Sirius descended into a bickering match. She caught the eye of Remus Lupin, who sat down beside her.
"You'd think they'd be tired of winding each other up, by now." Remus whispered to Grace, hazel eyes twinkling at her.
Grace laughed, throwing her head back. "When the sun sets in the east, maybe."
Remus had gotten taller over the summer, Grace noted, but otherwise, he looked very much like the Remus she remembered. He was still lanky and pale, with light brown hair and a warm, amused sort of expression. He still had scars and scratches all over his forearms, which had been exposed by his rolled-up sleeves. Grace wondered for the hundredth time where he had gotten them from. She'd always been rather fascinated by Remus Lupin.
Pettigrew, smelling faintly of dung, plonked himself down next to Remus. Grace's nose wrinkled in mild disgust and she turned her attention back to her friend's quarrel.
"Face it, Moor, you adore me." Sirius said, eliciting a nasty look from Asha.
"Oh yes, I'm mad for boys who act like they're too good and spend more time preening in the mirror than Narcissa Malfoy." She snapped, referring to the notoriously glamorous - and extremely unpleasant - Slytherin girl who had graduated only last year. "It's irresistible, truly."
Sirius seemed momentarily baffled as to how he should respond, and Asha thought she saw a flash of indecision in his eyes. He then quickly recovered, his expression falling into its default of disinterestedness and arrogance as he waved a hand at her dismissively, as if to say 'I'm bored of you now'.
Clearly this was a fan favourite, as a Hufflepuff girl on the next table dissolved into giggles with her friend, and as she spoke behind her hand in somewhat-hushed tones, Asha caught a barely audible "He's sooo handsome".
Sirius had turned his attention to James and was entirely oblivious to this.
"Mate," James said, "I nicked a snitch. Add it to the draw."
"Damn." Sirius said, pulling out a piece of parchment and scanning what looked to be a rather long list of items. "I should have known. As if I was going to get my hands on a snitch before you."
James grinned triumphantly. "Rules are rules, Padfoot. Now mark it down like a good little runner-up."
"Term's not over yet." Sirius said darkly, as he savagely struck a line through one of the entries with his quill.
"What are they doing?" Grace asked Remus, trying to get a not-so-discreet peek at the list before Sirius shoved it back into his pocket.
"It's a competition." Remus explained, looking mildly amused. "They've put together a list of fifty items, whoever swipes the most by end-of-term wins."
"Wins what?" Grace asked.
The corner of Remus' lip twitched upwards. "The loser has to be the winner's slave for a day."
Asha, Grace and Lily all shared looks of exasperation. This was when, regrettably, James noticed the latter girl.
"Evans!" James said, relishing the name. "You alright?"
Lily looked haughtily at James, which neither Asha nor Grace could blame her for. James had been after Lily for years, despite the fact that she had never been anything other than completely disinterested in him.
"Fine," she said thinly, looking on with disdain as James ran his hand through his already messy hair.
"Fancy going out-"
"So good that you and Grace are Gryffindor's prefects, isn't it, Remus?" Lily said loudly, silencing James. "What a perfect pair."
Asha had no doubt that the statement was laden with more subtext than the others realised. Grace had always had a bit of a soft spot for Remus, and it was little wonder. They were exactly the same breed of gentle and clever and funny. Neither Asha nor Lily really understood why something hadn't happened between the two already.
Under the cover of darkness, Lily and Asha had huddled under comforters in the girl's dormitory, hypothesising as to why Remus had never asked Grace out. Perhaps he was shy, or maybe he already had a girlfriend back home (unlikely, as the Lupin family didn't live anywhere near any muggles, let alone young, dateable ones, and almost every young witch and wizard in the country was at Hogwarts already). They had briefly entertained the notion of an older woman, but that was quickly squashed by Lily "Remus? With an older woman? Come on, we're not talking about Sirius." That had been true enough. Dating an older woman was a classic Sirius Black move, and thus it would be a most un-Remus-like thing to do. They had never come up with any sort of satisfactory explanation. Remus was, in their expert opinion, just a bit weird.
"Ah – yes." Remus looked momentarily taken aback at Lily's proclamation that he and Grace would be a 'perfect pair'. "Should be good fun."
His eyes flickered to Grace, in a way Asha thought was almost hopeful. Grace looked like she was going to say something in response, but she was quickly drawn into a conversation with a passing friend from Ravenclaw about Charms Club. Remus looked slightly crestfallen but covered it up by asking a question of Pettigrew, who launched into a thorough account of his summer.
Asha turned to Lily. "Those two were shoe-ins. I never did have the stuff of prefectery."
"Prefectery?" Lily asked, eyebrow raised.
"Prefectitude?" Asha tried again. "No. That's not right either."
"You're so good with words," Lily remarked ironically, knowing full-well that Asha would arc up at this jibe. If there was anything Asha was good at, it was arguing.
"Well, I am!" Asha responded hotly. "I haven't forgotten your incorrect use of their in second year, Miss Evans."
"One time!"
"Unforgivable." Asha concluded. "Your failure will echo through the ages, in perpetuity."
"Because that isn't a bit much." Grace retorted with a grin, having emerged from her brief side-conversation about Charms Club.
"Thank you, Grace!" Said Lily, relieved by the backup.
"I'm on Evan's side!" James declared, barreling into the conversation unceremoniously. Grace snorted, while both Asha and Lily gave James a withering glare.
Thankfully they were spared the task of responding by the beginning of Sorting.
Grace didn't know why she noticed, or even cared, that Remus Lupin was always looking tired.
Term was well underway - it was mid-October - and it seemed like Remus was going through a bad patch. His face was drawn, and there were dark circles under his eyes.
"You alright?" She asked him one night as they made their prefect rounds. "You look a little pale."
"Fine." He said briskly. "Excellent, in fact."
Grace raised an eyebrow. That was a point-blank lie, she knew. Remus did not look excellent in his present state. Though even in this shabby condition, Grace could not deny the fact that she rather fancied Remus - under-eye circles and all.
"That's good to hear." She didn't press the lie. Evidently, he did not want to talk about whatever was ailing him. "I would love to say I was feeling excellent, but Professor Vector wants eighteen inches on the number seven by Thursday."
"The number seven?" Remus repeated, mildly incredulous. "What on earth is there to say about the number seven?"
"Well it's a magic number, isn't it?" Grace shrugged. "Beats me how I'm going to manage it. Probably will end up copying from Ash. She's the Arithmancer, I'm the Charmer."
"I'll bet." Remus said, smiling. "You are incredibly charming."
Grace felt the heat rise to her cheeks, though she was heartily pleased. She smiled bashfully but shoved Remus in the arm all the same. "Hush, you."
"As you wish." Remus bowed ever so slightly, though Grace didn't miss his mocking tone. "If you insist on forbidding the expression of my most earnest compliments, I will of course oblige."
"Don't tease me." Grace shoved Remus in the arm again, causing him to chuckle. "Or I'll hex you."
"You know, prefects are not supposed to beat up other prefects." Remus remarked, eyes twinkling with merriment. "We're supposed to have solidarity."
At this Grace paused, ceasing their slow walk down the fifth-floor corridor. She pressed her fingers to her mouth as she adopted an expression of deep contemplation, brow slightly furrowed. "You know, Remus, you might have a point there."
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Grace's expression broke into a wicked smile. "Nah." She took advantage of Remus' unguarded stillness and plucked his wand from his hand, twirling it between her fingers and backing away - waving it in a playfully threatening way.
Remus reached forward to grab his wand back, but Grace held it just out of reach. "Uh, uh, uh." She tisked warningly. "I was recently told how to do a tickling hex and I'm not afraid to try it out on you, Lupin."
"You're really not as well-behaved as you seem!" Remus said, still trying to grab the wand from her hand, wholly undeterred by her threats.
Grace laughed and kept twisting and stretching to keep Remus' wand from him. He too was laughing, and when Grace ran a few paces out of his reach, he pursued her with a grin.
Remus lunged but she dodged him easily, pivoting and attempting to run back the way she'd come, but before she could Remus had flung his arms around her waist.
She shrieked and laughed breathlessly as they fell to the ground, limbs tangled as they still struggled for possession of Remus' wand. He had landed on top of her, but neither one of them seemed to think that going headlong into the cold stone floor was sufficient grounds to end their little skirmish.
Even though she was flat on her back, Grace determinedly kept the hand that held Remus' wand stretched as far away from him as possible. Remus' arms, however, were longer than hers, and he exceeded her reach easily. "Aha!" He exclaimed, attempting to pry her fingers away.
"I'll never let go!" Grace cried, gripping the wand so hard her knuckles turned white. "You'll need to take it from my cold, dead hands!"
Remus chuckled, expression bright with the same sort of exhilaration Grace imagined was playing across her face right now, too. "You're incredibly silly, did you know?"
"You're the one who can't even wrestle his own wand off a sixteen-year-old girl!" Grace crowed, determinedly struggling against Remus' attempt to loosen her grip.
Remus quickly removed his hands from hers and sat up, a calm expression overtaking his face. Grace was so taken aback that she ceased her struggling too. Remus surveyed her with a clinical, appraising expression and Grace began to feel some trepidation at what he might do next.
"I don't have a wand, so I can't do a tickling hex…" He said slowly and deliberately, before wiggling his fingers threateningly. "But there's always the old-fashioned way…"
"No! No!" She shrieked, laughing and kicking and flailing as Remus mercilessly tickled her sides. Grace had always been extremely ticklish; Remus had hardly touched her and she was writhing and laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her face. She was in stitches. "Mercy! Truce! I quit!"
"Give me my wand!" Remus said commandingly. "Payment first, Jones! Then you'll have your truce!"
"Okay! Okay!" She gasped breathlessly, flinging Remus' wand at his chest.
True to his word, Remus immediately withdrew his hands and pocketed his wand with a satisfied sort of expression. "I believe that's round one to me, Jones."
Grace was taking heaving deep breaths as she tried to compose herself. She wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes and gasped as she let herself relax into the cold stone floor. She felt positively giddy. "You cheated."
"Did not." Remus retorted brightly, helping Grace to her feet as she was unsteady. "We established no rules of engagement. And you threatened a tickling hex, first, if you recall. You're just a poor loser."
"Am not." Grace grinned, face still flushed from their cat-and-mouse game. "I'll have you know I am very gracious in defeat."
"Is that so?" Remus asked, appraising her closely. "I would think a very gracious loser would bequeath something to the triumphant victor."
"Of course you'd think that, triumphant victor." Grace rolled her eyes, grinning as they started back down the corridor. "Besides, I've nothing to bequeath."
"Don't you?" Remus asked softly, stopping them once again and stepping closer to her. He raised his hand to brush a strand of hair behind Grace's ear, and she felt a shiver down her spine as her back pressed against a closed classroom door. She let her fingers trace the wood, taking solace in the tactile sensation - this was really happening. Her heart was pounding hard in her chest as she stared into Remus' sparkling green-grey eyes. Unconsciously she leaned forward, her hand resting on his chest as his hand trailed down from behind her ear to her chin. He tilted it up slightly, face hovering ever closer to her own.
He's going to kiss me. He's really going to kiss me.
"There you are!" Exclaimed a voice from down the hall.
It was Mary MacDonald, who Grace shared a dormitory with. Mary's straight blond hair whipped through the air as she jogged towards Grace and Remus, looking very aggrieved indeed.
Though Grace rather liked Mary, she can't recall ever being less happy to see a person in her life.
It was like a spell had been broken. Remus sprung back from her as though repelled by magic, and refused to meet her eye. Mary reached them, and, oblivious to the fact that she had been interrupting, launched into speech; "Marlene's going spare about the Arithmancy essay, convinced she's going to fail the year. You have to come talk some sense into her. Asha's nowhere to be found, of course, always disappearing when you need her, that one. Lily tried to tell her everything would be okay, but she doesn't take Arithmancy, does she? And you know how Marlene is. Wouldn't listen to a word of it because she thinks Lily has no idea what she's on about, even though she's perfectly right."
"Oh." Grace said numbly, still reeling from the shock of it all. "That's no good, Mary."
"You have to come." Mary said insistently, grabbing Grace's hand and pulling her along. "Remus can give detentions to third-years breaking curfew just fine without you, right, Remus?"
"Certainly."
Remus had a disquieted expression on his face, and Grace could plainly see a flurry of activity behind his eyes. Cogs were turning, and she doubted very much that Remus was thinking very deeply about what Mary had said. No, something wasn't right. Something had changed. He had changed.
"Great." Mary said, continuing to bodily drag Grace towards the Gryffindor common-room. Grace couldn't help but twist around to look back at Remus, who was standing where she had left him, perfectly still.
"Night, Remus!" She called out behind her in a harried sort of voice, as Mary bustled her out of sight.
"Goodnight, Jones." He replied in a hollow sort of voice.
With a pang, Grace registered the use of her surname. She didn't entirely understand how, or why, but she knew with a terrible certainty that things had just gone awfully wrong.