The next morning I rose from my bed quite a bit earlier than intended. The events of yesterday had not allowed me a peaceful night's sleep. I walked down to the common room, curled up in one of the armchairs and picked up the morning issue of the Daily Prophet.
After about an hour of half-heartedly skimming articles and letting my mind wander further into my imagined hopes and nightmares of the forthcoming class, Jenny came downstairs, obviously questioning my whereabouts.
"Where were you last night? You just left!" she declared abruptly.
"I wasn't feeling very well," I responded. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the full truth, either. I didn't know how to handle this whole situation. What if something were to become of Remus and me? Could I trust anyone to keep the secrets before anything had even happened?
"This isn't like you! Running away from the feast, staying out until everyone is in bed, and not telling me what is going on! C'mon, Marty, talk to me!" she was pleading now.
Last night after Remus' second introduction, I abruptly left him for the female lavatory. Of course, I stayed inside long enough to be sure he had departed while I stood there and imagined what every day thereafter would be like. I had to keep going back to the one idea that this didn't mean anything. Nothing had happened yet. That's not to say either of us did not want anything to happen, but merely that it hadn't happened yet.
"It's really nothing, Jenny, I'll be fine. Maybe I'll tell you about it someday, but for now, I think I need to brave it alone."
I had told Jenny all my secrets from the time I was eleven until now, yet, even with our dense history, I rarely enjoyed telling anyone any bit of information that may come back to haunt me later. Too many dissolved friendships and my mother's scolding had taught me that life lesson. A Hogwarts scandal between student and Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would certainly fill a spread at the Daily Prophet for a month!
Jenny wore a defeated look of disappointment. She was not a weak girl; rather than being angry with me for not filling her in on gossip and dirt, instead she would become upset to see me suffering and not letting her help lighten my load. I think part of her, too, became genuinely saddened when it appeared I did not trust her with keeping a secret. She always respected me by giving me room to breathe before I was ready to give away any information I held dear to my heart.
"Well, when you're ready to talk, you know where to find me," she smiled a moment later to give a vibe of confidence.
"Thank you, Jenn," I smiled back.
Suddenly the room was disturbed by the sound of feet stomping down the staircase.
"There you are, Marty!" Merilyn said quickly, a tone of concern in her voice. "We thought perhaps you'd been dragged off by a troll or something! Where were you last night?"
Reiterating the excuses I had just given Jenny, minus a few of the promises I made to dish my dirt as soon as I was ready, we mutually decided it was about time to get dressed and head to the Great Hall for breakfast.
My morning meal consisted of toast and eggs – with milk, not the blasted pumpkin juice everyone in Hogwarts adored and fawned over. Since my youth and an unfortunate sickness off my muggle grandmother's pumpkin pie, I have hated anything pumpkin flavored - including the famous pumpkin juice. In fact, the members of Hogwarts loved it so much that if it came down to the choice between saving a professor or the pumpkin juice, I doubt the professor would win.
"What's our first class?" Merilyn finally asked Karin after breakfast, who held the piece of parchment with our schedule of classes on it.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts," she stated; my stomach lurched – why now? Karin quickly added, "I hope our new professor has actually performed at least a few of the spells in the book."
She was referring to Lockhart – our joke of a professor from last year. Rumor has it that his span of knowledge of magic was so small that he accidentally erased his own memory with a defective wand. Although he was undoubtedly handsome to some, I could see right through him before he even came to Hogwarts. I guess I've just been raised to be humble; if you're off doing great things, don't pat yourself on the back, but instead let others do it for you. If your actions are as great as you believe them to be, others will notice and appreciate them. Lockhart praised his efforts too frequently, thus demonstrating that he likely didn't achieve what he said he had.
Questions and chatter were uttered among the four of us as we meandered toward the classroom for our first class of the day.
