Remus has managed to escape the war as best he could throughout the summer despite it plastered on The Daily Prophet. His father, who worked in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, would even barely talk about the war despite facing it every day. Dark creatures were steadily joining you-know-who. Remus' father said it was because you-know-who was offering them the chance at equality within his world, the chance of power. It sent shivers up his spine, made him cringe when he looked at his scars, so he tried to not focus on it. Yet, as the Marauders stepped onto platform 9 ¾ on September 1st, he was suddenly surrounded by murmurs and concerned faces.
The Marauders quickly found Peter, who looked exhausted as he broke away from his parents. Peter was prone to complaining and, thus, took up the attention of James and Sirius while Remus walked behind the three. He smiled gently at some Gryffindors in his year as they waded through the Hogwarts Express, suddenly self-conscious of his brand new prefect badge. It shone proudly on the chest of his beige jumper—he had put it on before they left, feeling rather confident, but now fumbled to get it off.
They heard plenty of conversations as they passed by, but none as loud as a Hufflepuff in their year exclaiming about the war, pretending to be hushed. Her blond hair was in two twin braids, falling over each shoulder, her deep brown eyes looking pretty energetic for someone who was talking about the recent events.
"Rumor has it that Dumbledore's cancelling Hogsmeade visits," the girl exclaimed to two other Hufflepuffs in their year. The taller of the two looked unimpressed, her hair fire-red and contrasting brightly against her dark skin. Remus immediately recognized her as Aria Kilburne, her curls last year being predominantly purple and blue. The girl next to her was a few inches shorter, her dark, wavy hair pulled back and a somalin cat held firmly in her arms. She looked rather nervous as she listened to the blond Hufflepuff, who Peter murmured was Janine McCormick. He then made a crude joke about how her big-mouthed habit wasn't just for words, and Remus shot him a scolding glare.
"I doubt that he will," Aria said with a roll of her eyes. The other Hufflepuff—who Remus couldn't put a name to at that moment—shifted from foot to foot.
"I hope not," she murmured, pressing her lips together and glancing up from Janine's eager expression. Her eyes landed on the Marauders. Specifically James, and she frowned.
Oh. Remus thought as they walked by, the Hufflepuff maintaining her look on James before glancing at Aria. The no-name Hufflepuff had gotten into a very heated argument with James the previous year in Divination. It earned her quite a few odd looks for about a month afterwards. No one was really prone to yelling at James except for Lily Evans, but Lily had a better reason than Divination, Remus thought.
Narelle watched the four boys pass by, frowning at James Potter as he laughed loudly at something.
"Calm down, Rellie," Janine giggled gently, following her gaze. "With a look like that, you'd be sure you were ready to bite his head off."
"He's a git," Narelle said matter-of-fact, frowning before leading the other two girls in the opposite direction. "I mean, honestly. He's too busy getting off on the idea that he'll single-handedly end the war. That, and Quidditch. And the redhead who used to be prone to shouting at him on the lawn. He probably daydreams about sacrificing himself for the whole of the wizarding world." She punctuated her statement by pushing open the door of an empty compartment, walking in with a rather agitated look on her face. She flopped down into the compartment, laying Dahlia in her lap. Aria had a barn owl while Janine had an unusually small toad, and they set their animal's cages down by the door before sitting down themselves.
"He's quite interesting," Janine nodded, "but not nearly as interesting at Lupin."
"What, the prefect?" Aria snorted. "Have you seen him? He's a total square."
"I heard someone say he's a vampire. That's why he's so pale."
"Oh, yeah, because Dumbledore would let anyone other than a regular wizard attend Hogwarts. Sure, Janine."
Aria rolled her eyes, looking at Narelle with an "are you hearing this?" look on her face. Narelle shook her head, looking out the window, watching the sea of parents tearfully say farewell to all of the students. She leaned closer to the window, craning her neck to see all of the brand-new students lean out, waving. The train whistled, smoke billowing over the top of the train, and the wheels began to groan. It was a scene right out of an old movie—the train leaving, some parents running along with it, kids shouting goodbye. The sound of the train drowned out their cries of farewell, though, and Narelle faintly wondered if they knew this was their last goodbye for months.
She was sure she saw wavy dark hair on a tall man for a split second, but then the station was gone.
Settling into the Hufflepuff dorms was rather easy for Narelle. The comforting, sunshine-like glow felt like home as Narelle and Aria bee-lined to the common room after dinner. Janine had stayed after to chat with a Ravenclaw in their year named Oliver, urging her friends to leave without her. Almost too gratefully, they did, tapping out "Helga Hufflepuff" onto the barrels before walking through the tunnels.
Aria said hello to some of their classmates in the common room, but Narelle continued on to the girl's dorms. Their room was as cozy as she had remember—fluffy quilts on their beds, round windows overlooking the grounds, plants hanging from the ceiling, a soft fire. Narelle's bed was always on the far right, right by the biggest window, and she hurried over. Dahlia had already curled up at the foot of the bed, sleeping softly. Aria followed along, talking to the other two girls in their dorm, but Narelle was already busy putting up photos in her small area.
First was a photo of her mom focused on a crystal ball with long, blond hair, dripping in necklaces and bracelets. Second, she put up an old photo of her parents from when they had been together in Hogwarts. Her dad towered over her mom, grinning toothily, his dark wavy hair a mess on his head. They both wore Gryffindor robes, looking more proud than Narelle had ever seen a student. The other photos were less memorable, but still important—Narelle, Aria, and Aria's younger sister Katya, all grinning in front of a ferris wheel. Aria's dad and Aria throwing flour at each other. The view from Narelle's window at home. Narelle and Aria grinning side-by-side, circa 2nd year, wearing their Hufflepuff robes.
Decorating was Narelle's way of grasping back onto her life at Hogwarts. The first night, she always grew so anxious she couldn't sleep. So, instead, she organized her things and readied her bag for the next day. Janine came back soon, and then the four other girls went to bed. It wasn't long before Narelle slept too, her new Divination book tucked under her arm. When she awoke, the sun was out and dandelions swayed outside the windows.
The first morning of classes went the same every year:
Narelle got up before the others and slowly dressed into her uniform, taking her time to tie and straighten out her tie. She brushed her hair before pulling it up into it's regular, stubby ponytail. Next, she woke up Aria who protested loud enough to wake the other girls, and Narelle quickly brushed her teeth before Janine hogged the bathroom. Then, after she helped Aria gather her things, the two set off to breakfast, yawning and sleepy-eyed.
The Great Hall was alive with chatter, the first years looking rather nervous. As always, Narelle poured herself some coffee and poured Aria some orange juice while Aria placed food on their plates. They talked about nonsense, Aria going on and on about a dream she had, as Professor Sprout began passing out schedules. The two girls smiled sweetly when handed theirs before immediately comparing.
"We have all of the same classes," Aria pointed out, her eyes scanning over Narelle's schedule for the third time. Narelle yawned, pushing her bangs up as she stared at the paper in her hand.
"Divination isn't until the end of the day," she said with a disappointed tone. "And—look at this—we have Transfiguration first. Are they trying to make me fail?"
"At least it's only three times a week," Aria pointed out, to which Narelle scrunched up her nose.
"Then Defense… then break, Charms, and Divination. And potions twice a week first thing. I suppose that's not too bad."
Janine hurried up to them suddenly, her blond hair in soft curls, grinning as she slid into a seat across from them.
"You two remember Frank Longbottom, right? Remember him? You'll never guess—apparently he and Alice had a fling over the summer!" Janine gasped excitedly, immediately going on a gossiping spiel about the two while Aria and Narelle half listened.
Meanwhile, at the Gryffindor table, Remus watched as Sirius nearly fell asleep in his bacon. The four of them weren't the most lively bunch first thing in the morning, especially with James frowning at his schedule in comparison to the other three. So far, the only classes they for sure had together were Potions and Charms. James, Remus, and Sirius all had identical schedules, but Peter was veering off on a different path.
"You're not taking Defense," James pointed out, side-eyeing Peter, who was ravenously eating his eggs.
"Not interested," Peter murmured, as if that was a good enough explanation for James "Throw Yourself into the Middle of War" Potter, who frowned heavily. Remus watched, ready to pounce on the budding of a fight, poking at his eggs so the yolk oozed out.
"How can you not be interested?" James asked, sounding exasperated. "It's probably the most important subject that they teach here, especially now. What if something bad happens in Hogwarts? You're going to die without this knowledge, Wormtail. Instead, you're taking bloody history?" Remus leaned forward to peer at the schedule while Sirius snorted out a laugh, pushing his plate forward and resting his head on the table.
"It's basically extended nap time," Peter grinned, not even looking up from his breakfast. He ripped a piece of bacon in half before chewing aggressively on it. The older he got, the more violent he seemed to get with the simplest things.
"I can't believe it," James said softly, looking dumbfounded before dropping Peter's schedule on the table with an air of finality. He handed Remus' schedule back to him, who was mopping up his egg yolk with a piece of toast. "Moony's got the right idea here. Transfiguration, potions, charms, and defense. That's the schedule of a man ready to take on the world."
"You have the same schedule as me," Remus pointed out, not accepting the flattery. James just grinned in response.
"It's the schedule of a man, Moony."
Classes were uneventful it seemed for the entire school. There was no mention of the war for the majority of Narelle's classes, as well as Remus', and the two were simultaneously elated. During break and lunch, Narelle and Aria gathered up a study plan for the rest of the year while the Marauders wandered the school, passing prank ideas back and forth. James was itching to get to Defense Against the Dark Arts, and it was plain as Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors collided in Professor Flitwick's classroom. The 6th years filed into the familiar room, chatting lightheartedly as they found their seats. The Marauders were rambunctious as usual, causing an unappreciative stare from a few of their classmates, but they didn't seem to notice.
Flitwick's start-of-the-year speech had dwindled over the years. He still stood on top of a stack of books, his voice still squeaking and obnoxious as any other year, but his excitable attitude had darkened. He looked more tired, more worn, and this did not go unnoticed by Narelle. He spoke about the same things as all of the other professors had that day. They were now in N.E.W.T-level classes and were expected to keep up with their homework. The workload was going to be much heavier, they said. They were going to be treated like adults, they said. All of the talk about their school careers being "nearly through" made Narelle anxious and she began impatiently tapping her quill on her parchment.
"We will be focusing mostly on non-verbal charms and concentration!" Flitwick exclaimed, trying to withhold his usual excited mannerisms. "It is a very large step in a magical person's life, and—"
He was cut off, however, by James Potter. He raised his hand and spoke without permission, as you do.
"Are we going to be working on defensive or offensive charms?" he asked, loud and clear.
"Jesus Christ," Narelle murmured, rolling her eyes at Aria.
The classroom was suddenly filled with an awkward silence, Flitwick staring at the boy. James' face was that of nearly-complete seriousness aside from the small smirk on his face. Narelle raised her eyebrows despite sitting two rows behind him.
"Well, Mr. Potter, those are for Defense Against the Dark Arts—" Professor Flitwick started, but James interrupted him again.
"Sure, but I think we should be focusing on spells like that in all of our classes," James stated with a dismissive wave of his hand, as if Flitwick should know that. Obviously. "Pardon my bluntness, Professor, but there's a darn war going on, shouldn't we be focusing our energy on saving ourselves?" Professor Flitwick opened his mouth to speak, growing flustered, but James pushed on. "Honestly, you-know-who could probably take out the entire wizarding world if he wanted to. You've read the papers. Whoever he is, he's batty, and we need an army the size of our school to fight him, don't you think?"
James' babbling had sent the classroom into an uncomfortable silence at the first mention of the war. Everything had been going so smoothly, as if it was just any regular year at Hogwarts, and he was crashing that small hope. Narelle—livid as she were at his outburst—understood that completely shutting up about the war was naïve, but since when did people care about naïveté?
"So many people have died already, and we could be next," James continued. Remus glanced around, noticing the faces of their uncomfortable classmates.
"Prongs," he hissed with a tone of warning as he watched his friend. But James barreled on, fueled by his unnerving desire to save the world. Flitwick looked horrified, as if this exact topic was covered in a staff meeting before classes started. Remus could just hear Professor McGonagall; Now, whatever you do, do not mention the war, or I'll turn you into a teacup myself!
"Non-verbal spells are a good thing to learn, but you know what else is good? Stunning spells. Defensive spells. Offensive spells. You know, things that can save our lives—"
Yet, Potter's words were cut off by a quiet but stern voice from behind him:
"Oh, shove off, Potter."
James looked over his shoulder at the culprit, his eyes landing on a flushed Hufflepuff whose first name he couldn't remember. Her last name, however, he could think of, after a month of teasing her the previous year for her same knack of telling him to shut up. He raised an eyebrow at her, studying her for a second. Her dark hair was pulled back, but a few strands had fallen around her face, and her cheeks were flushed. She always looked more surprised at her own speaking out than anyone else was.
"What was that, Atterberry?" he spat back, scowling.
"Now, now—" Flitwick started, but Narelle was already shooting James down.
"Save it for defense," she shot back, narrowing her eyes. "Let the poor man talk before you start scaring everyone with the war and death and famine. Jesus, it's only the first day."
James stared at her a moment longer, debating getting into another argument, but Remus hissed his name. The dark-haired boy looked at his friend, his prefect badge glinting and eyes dark, before sneering and turning back. Flitwick seemed to deflate with relief before shakily continuing on with what he was saying, Remus glancing over his shoulder at the now-flustered Hufflepuff. Her eyes were firmly on her paper, Aria Kilburne snickering beside her as she half-listened to the Professor.