A/N Another update, they usually happen quite quickly in the beginning when I'm sitting on so much of the story. I get too excited to wait posting aha :)
Visit me on tumblr, it's the same name, abrokefangirl xx
Anyway I love comments, and I love theories. Leave a word, I promise I'm not scary.
Lunch was uneventful, except for the side-eye Malfoy was giving her. The more he stared, the more unsettled she became. Especially after the strange morning, and night, she'd had. Harry was getting angrier by the minute, as he always did when Malfoy was messing with Mila. Mila had already told Harry to sit down twice after he'd snapped and risen to go say something.
"Really Harry, can't you just calm down?" Hermione reasoned, "Just ignore him."
Harry glanced at Mila and then faced Hermione who sat across from him, "Fine. But if he tries anything I'll-"
"You'll what?" Mila mused, "Tie his shoe laces together? Make him stop sucking?"
Harry's bad mood dissipated, "Make him bark instead of speak."
Mila laughed, "Now there's an image. I like that one, we'll have to make a spell for that."
"Definitely," Harry grinned. He never stayed in a bad mood long. Hermione had once speculated that Mila could cheer him up about anything, but Mila had brushed her off, stating Harry was just not an angry person by nature.
"So, what's new gang? What did I miss last night?" Mila and Harry never really followed gossip at school, as it was mostly about the four of them. Ron did, but he wasn't here yet. She had no idea where he had run off too.
"Well Justin Finch-Fletchley asked out Katie Bell. Again. She said no. Again," Hermione said.
"I don't know why he's aiming so high! She's older to begin with, and I really don't think that he's her type," Mila argued. Mostly she was trying to keep Harry's mind off Malfoy, she didn't care too much about Justin's love life.
"Beats me," Hermione said.
Mila saw Ron run into the Great Hall, grateful for another distraction.
He sat down next to Hermione and began, "I just saw Lupin yell at Snape. It was glorious," Ron said excitedly. It must have been a good chewing out, otherwise Ron wouldn't have been this animated. It was known Snape and Lupin didn't get along, though the specifics of why weren't as widely known. Mila knew it was the same when they were at school, and that's also why Snape didn't like Harry, because of James.
Harry and Hermione gave Ron the reaction he expected, they laughed and asked him questions about what was said. But Mila sat quietly, thinking back on why Lupin had kept her behind. Was that why he had been yelling at Snape? Because she had been kept in detention too long?
Harry, who was always quick to notice her mood changes, turned to her.
"Ok that's it. I knew there was something wrong, you were weird after class today. What is it?"
"Nothing," she answered.
"Don't give me that Mila, tell me," Harry said. It always exasperated him when she kept secrets from him, especially when those secrets upset her. This was the boy she had gone though hell and back with, he figured they could share just about everything.
But she couldn't tell him, because even she didn't know why she was so wigged out.
"It's fine Harry."
He tugged at his unruly hair before placing a hand over hers. Mila glanced at him surprised, and also hoping he wouldn't push it.
"Whatever it is, we can work it out together. Like always." His eyes searched hers, as if they could tell him what was wrong. They both heard Ron cough and looked away from each other.
"I'll let you know when I figure it out," She gave Harry a final look, "I promise."
Mila walked silently to the library. The others all had another class together, one of the NEWTs she wasn't taking, and she was grateful to be alone for a while.
It was another look from a teacher that set her on edge as she made her way there. Professor Flitwick had caught her eye as she walked down a corridor, and given her a sad smile. Honestly, this was getting ridiculous. She'd always been someone people looked at. Students, teachers, others from her childhood. Sometimes it bothered her, sometimes it didn't. But this was different. This was only teachers, and all the looks were unusual. Either sad or sympathetic. Maybe there was bad news back home and they hadn't told her yet. She didn't know what it could be, she didn't have any family, but what other explanation could there be?
She pushed it down. When she reached the library it wasn't too busy and she was hoping to get a lot done. It was near the end of the term and she had about three essays to write, the longest from McGonagall, six feet for Transfiguration. She decided to start with that one, and grabbed a few books before sitting down and beginning.
She managed to knuckle down and get quite a bit done before she was interrupted. Someone sat on the desk she was occupying. She looked up to see Malfoy smiling down at her.
"Can I help you?" she muttered. She was not in the mood.
"You've got my book, Lovett."
"I wasn't aware library books had owners, Malfoy," she fired back.
He gave a smirk, "Well they do, and it's me, so hand it over."
"Can't you go bother someone else? I'm sure they're are multiple copies somewhere around this place." She scanned the library mockingly.
"Perhaps, but I want yours," he shrugged, but his eyes were alight.
Mila couldn't help it, she chuckled. Malfoy was in a fiery mood. She would never admit it, but sometimes she liked sparring with him. When the others weren't here, especially Harry, she actually found him quite intelligent. It was rather entertaining to be able to say whatever horrible things you liked to a person and not feel guilty about it.
"And why is that?"
"Well, now that big strong Potter isn't here to protect you, I figure you're an easy target," Malfoy liked practically devilish now, and wondered if she would take the bait.
"In case you don't remember I can take care of myself, or did you forget why I was given detention yesterday?" She cocked an eyebrow, wondering what he'd say next. All she wanted was to get some work done, but it seemed she was trapped in a battle of wits.
"I haven't forgotten," Malfoy said slowly, and it unnerved her more than her weird day had.
"Good," she frowned, "Now go away." She didn't want to play this game anymore.
"I'll get you back, Lovett," he jumped of the desk and began walking away, "You'll see."
Mila rolled her eyes and got back to her work, not wasting any time wondering what Malfoy meant by that.
She was happy the day was coming to an end. She sat in the common room with her friends, which was packed with more Gryffindors this time as she wasn't as late as last night. Harry had tried to cheer her up at dinner, and she'd let him. He hexed Malfoy during the meal, and she laughed as everything seemed back to normal. Just an off day, everyone had them.
She was counting down the days until the Christmas break. She and Harry usually stayed at the Burrow, but for the first time Sirius had invited them to stay at his place. They'd heard Lupin was staying there too, to spend time with his friend. Or to keep an eye on him, which Mila suspected was necessary. This was Sirius Black they were talking about. Mila hoped the weirdness would be sorted by then, though Lupin's questions may have been a different thing entirely to the looks she was getting. It probably had nothing to do with her, and was more about his old enemy Snape.
Mila was sad not to spend more time at the Burrow, but she knew how excited Harry was to stay with Sirius and she wanted him to be happy. Wherever he went, she went, so she was determined to go with him.
They would spend Christmas day at the Burrow anyway, and then Mila would be able to see all the Weasleys, including Fred and George who she missed since they left school. They used to help each other with their pranks, her friends didn't have the same knack or love for it that she did. Though Harry tried to indulge her as often as he could.
"Newts, Newts, Newts," Ron moaned, "All I ever hear about are the bloody Newts." He was sprawled across the sofa, his legs across Hermione, who was doing her best to ignore him. He had a hand to his head, as if suffering a migraine.
"Hear, hear," Mila chimed in. She was sick of them too. It wasn't even seventh year and everybody was already stressed out of their mind. There was just too much to do, and most people in their year had late nights. The only one who had been coping with the pressure was Hermione.
"I don't think they're that bad." She looked up from a book she was reading.
"That's because you're you, and you're brilliant at everything," Ron argued.
Hermione flushed at the compliment, "Nonsense, you're just as smart as me. You just don't try hard enough."
"Believe me, I'm trying plenty," Ron said, making both Harry and Mila laugh. Harry had been giving her worried looks all night, but she figured if she ignored them, he wouldn't make her talk about it.
"Christmas cannot come sooner," she sighed, "At least we have Transfiguration tomorrow."
"Ugh, you're the only one who says that, Mila," Ron groaned.
"What? I like it."
"Yeah, yeah. You're a real prodigy."
Mila laughed at his joke. He was right of course. Mila got good grades, excellent in fact, but in Transfiguration she never got anything less than an O. She wasn't sure why, but she had a real knack for it, and always looked forward to the class. She was hoping to speak to McGonagall about about career options for it, she might as well do something she enjoyed.
She decided to change the subject, "I bet Sirius is excited to see you, Harry."
He gave her a knowing look before answering, "I suppose. He talks to me most days. Every time I hold up the two-way mirror he seems ready and waiting on the other end. I think he's bored in that house."
"It'll be good to see him then. I'm sure you can get him up and running," she said.
"I hope so," he sighed, "I'm glad you're coming with me though. I think he misses you too."
"Oh?" Mila was surprised.
She liked Sirius. He was the best thing that had ever happened to Harry in her opinion. After the childhood Harry had, he deserved someone who would look out for him. Mila was more grateful to Sirius for that than he would probably ever know.
"Yeah, he asks about you sometimes. Ron and Hermione too."
"He probably misses his schooling days. I know Lupin talks about them to you."
"Yeah," Harry smiled wistfully, "They had a lot of fun back then." She knew he had begun thinking about his father, so she gave his arm a squeeze.
"It's nice that they can share that with you," she said.
Harry nodded, "I think it's hard for them to talk about sometimes. But the stuff I get to hear… it's great."
"I bet it is," Ron said, "Your dad was a legend."
"He sure was," Mila agreed.
Transfiguration had Mila buzzing. She'd been the only student to successfully change her hand into a cat paw. The result had been pretty funny, she had walked around the class with a tiny hand, trying to help the others get the hang of it. Dean and Seamus had begged her to help them.
Like always, McGonagall congratulated her, before telling her not to get too cocky. Mila had laughed and made no promises. Mila had also asked to speak to her after class. When they could not turn to each other, Harry would turn to Dumbledore, but Mila would turn to McGonagall. She'd always trusted her more, and Mila wanted to get to the bottom of the strange looks.
She was busy telling a laughing Harry to 'look like the paw, act like the paw, be the paw', when McGonagall dismissed the class.
Harry, once again, asked if Mila wanted him to wait for her, but she said she just had a question about the essay, and he seemed happy enough with the answer. He left with Ron and Hermione, who were busy trying to get him on their side of an argument they'd been having, and Mila watched as her friends left.
For a second, she wondered what it would be like if they had never known her. She didn't know why the thought came to her, but she supposed they would have been the same. They all trusted and loved each other of their own accord, they didn't need her for that.
Mila turned to McGonagall, who was waiting expectantly. She frowned as she wondered how to phrase her question.
McGonagall chuckled, "I'm guessing this isn't about the essay, Miss Lovett?"
Mila laughed shortly and looked to the side, "Always so on the mark, Professor."
McGonagall took a seat behind her desk, "Just observant. What can I help you with?"
Mila chewed her lip, "I've been noticing… some rather odd behaviour."
"Care to elaborate?" McGonagall raised her eyes sternly. She didn't like it when people beat around the bush. Normally Mila wasn't one to, but she was trying to think of a way to say it that didn't make her sound paranoid.
"Has someone died? Is there something back in Brighton I don't know about?"
Mila was originally from an orphanage in Brighton, much like the esteemed Tom Riddle. Since starting at Hogwarts, however, she had stayed at the Burrow, or Hermione's house. She supposed she was too old for an orphanage now, had she not the invitations she probably would have had to go to a foster home. In fact, technically she did have one, but she hardly went there and her guardians certainly didn't mind. They were more than happy for her to stay out of their hair, only asking her to come back when they had a check up with a social worker.
"What's this all about, Miss Lovett?"
"It's the other teachers, Miss. They keep looking at me like… like all pitying and stuff. I just figured, well maybe something happened at home I don't know about."
McGonagall pursed her lips, "Well you've done it again, Miss Lovett. Your flair for the dramatic has once again concocted another curious story."
"Excuse me?" she frowned. She added 'Professor' to the end of her sentence after McGonagall had given her a look.
"Trust me child, no one is looking at you in that nature. Everything is fine back home, and let me assure you, no one is dead."
Mila didn't know whether to be relived, or annoyed at how McGonagall was dismissing her concerns like this.
"Are you sure?" Mila doubted.
"I am quite sure. Now run along, I'm sure you've got plenty of work to do."
Mila nodded slowly, but grabbed her things and began to leave. "Thanks, Professor," she said as she headed out the door. She felt a lot better. McGonagall was no-nonsense, and if she said nothing was going on then she was probably right. Perhaps Mila was just being dramatic.
She'd left too early to see the note however. A note McGonagall wrote the second she left, addressed to Albus Dumbledore.
She's starting to ask questions, Albus.
