The castle is shrouded in a sense of approaching doom during Neville's third year. Sirius Black is on the loose - and on the hunt, if the rumours are to be believed.
Pomona watches Remus Lupin watching Harry, as she is watching Neville. Remus is struggling, too, although as far as she knows, there was nothing improper about his relationship with James and Lily Potter. Or was there? Surely not: Remus, the buttoned up, too-good prefect...although he did like to be led astray. She always suspected that he didn't dare misbehave in case Dumbledore changed his mind and threw him out because of what he was. So he was easy to talk into mischief and twice as good at it. Much more convincing than young Sirius ever was.
She suppresses a shiver and turns back to Neville. He's too pale; she should speak to Minerva about it. Of course, it was stupid of him to write down those passwords, but everyone knows his memory isn't what it could be - and the possible reason why. Neville has enough to deal with without being maligned by an influential teacher.
You old softie, Alice murmurs, and Pomona closes her eyes. If she doesn't think too hard, she can almost feel Alice's breath on the back of her neck; Alice's strong thumbs working their way down her back. It's as if the past is coming for her, and she almost welcomes it.