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Chapter 9:

Julia's head was reeling.

The past week had been a mess; starting since the entire world (or so it seemed) had found out that Harry's death was her Boggart. The Marauders constantly teased her about having a crush, the Ravenclaws whispered as she passed, she was pretty sure that at least half of her Defense Against The Dark Arts class thought she was a crazy and every time Harry looked at her it was if he was trying to stare straight into her soul. This was not as inconspicuous as she'd hoped.

Part of her was angry. Since when had her Boggart been Harry's death?! Sure, she knew it would completely ruin everything if he died but last she checked her Boggart had been totally different. When had it changed into this? When had shechanged into this? She was disgusted.

After the Boggart incident things had only gotten worse. She couldn't stand the other students' remarks but that was only half of it. Dumbledore had called them to his office that night, presenting a schedule that would help them towards their goals. They would meet once a week to discuss the Horcruxes and anything else that needed discussing (on Wednesdays after Astronomy). Dumbledore would do his best to teach them anything they needed to know as well, including new spells that could help them defeat Voldemort or any Death Eaters that came their way. They would also use that time for planning how they would go about entering the Chamber of Secrets. They decided that night that they should go after the Basilisk would be one about a week before the end of October. They had already missed the September full moon and they thought it would be best to go when the Marauders were otherwise occupied. That would also give Julia enough time to fully heal. She was well on her way to recovery already but she would rather not go up against a giant snake when she wasn't at her full potential.

Until then, they would train.

Monday nights would be for Harry to relearn Parseltongue from a discrete expert Dumbledore apparently knew. Julia could use that time as she wanted, which, for her, meant working with a sword in the Room of Requirement and researching Horcruxes to the best of her ability. They rest of the week was to be used as they saw fit and currently Julia saw fit to stay as far away from Harry as possible.

As if the Boggart situation wasn't bad enough, a week later Julia found herself in an even worse position.

Other than the awkwardness caused by their Defense Against The Dark Arts class and the new meetings with Dumbledore, the week had begun as usual. The time travelers were finally getting into the swing of things, becoming comfortable with their surroundings and the people around them, just as regular new kids would. The Marauders continued to look out for them, making sure they had what they needed and keeping them in just enough mischief to have fun and just out of enough that they wouldn't get in trouble.

"We wouldn't want you to get expelled too soon now, would we?" James had said with a grin and a wink before setting off a Dungbomb at a group of Slytherins.

They didn't trust Julia and Harry enough to show them the map or tell them about Remus, although Julia had had a conversation with the boy after Garroway's werewolf lesson.

"How do you know so much?" He had asked later that day next to the Black Lake as they watched James and Sirius have some sort of water fight.

Julia had shrugged, not giving away much.

"I had a friend," she began, not really lying, not really telling the truth, "who was bitten."

Remus's expression was an odd combination of confusion, alarm and hope.

"The werewolf was in human form, mind you," Julia continued, shooting Remus a meaningful look, telling him that that changed everything with her eyes.

Remus's expression became one simply of surprise, his hope gone but his curiosity heightened.

"What happened to him?"

"Well, he didn't become a werewolf but he did have a lot of scars and he developed some odd tendencies like preferring his steak to be quite rare."

This was true. This really had happened. The only thing that was questionable was Julia's use of the word friend. Bill Weasley was not quite her friend. No one really was.

"I've never heard of that happening before," Remus said, turning his gaze back to the lake.

"It's uncommon since most werewolves aren't so aggressive in their human form." Julia told him. "But after he was bitten, in preparation for the full moon, I did as much research as possible."

That was a lie.

"And then he met a regular werewolf and found that it wasn't like the one who had bitten him but rather was as normal as anyone else in its human form."

Another lie.

Well, not completely. Bill had met Remus but not after the biting incident.

A half-truth then.

"And he told me," Julia finished.

They had spoken no more on the subject, the attention apparently shifting to her "eternal love for Harry" (as the others so eloquently described it) after her Boggart was revealed. Still, she knew Remus trusted her now; more than he had before, more than he probably ever would've had she not said something in class that day. He thought she was an honest person.

He was wrong.

The rest of the week involved much discomfort and a lot of explaining, not to mention vigorous training. Julia felt incredibly out of shape, being unable to do anything until now because of her injury, and it killed her. She needed to make sure that she was always on the defensive, which was rather hard to do when every movement caused her pain.

Things only got worse once Saturday rolled around. Harry had suggested they work on some spell casting and the like in the Room of Requirement. Seemed simple enough except that she'd have to be alone with Harry, something she never particularly looked forward to or enjoyed. Still, it should've been simple.

But it wasn't.

They had stayed up until late into the night, losing track of time as they cursed and hexed dueling dummies, each practising at their own risk and pace. It almost felt like an intensive DA meeting, except there were only two of them. After they'd finished Harry had brought up the Basilisk, reminding Julia that he should probably also learn to use a sword. She had showed him some basic manoeuvres with the weapon, how to stand, stab, swing, etc. Unfortunately that meant touching him and touching him was dangerous. Her hands had to cover his as she showed him the right swing, her fingers had to graze his hips as she pushed him into the correct ready stance, her palms had to push against his shoulders as she adjusted his stab.

She hated every minute of it; hated the warmth that radiated off of him, hated the fire that ignited in her fingers every time they had contact. She hated touching him.

But the worst was still yet to come.

She didn't remember how it happened or why, just that it had. One moment they'd been practising, the next they'd been waking up in a tangle of limbs. He had been warm and full and strangely comforting pressed up against her, their arms and legs so intertwined that Julia hadn't known where hers ended and where his started.

It was a mess really, of emotions, extremities and heat. She had jumped up, panic, something generally foreign to her, erupting throughout her entire body as she removed herself from him. He was half awake by the time she managed to get away from him, confusion evident on his features as he stared up at her, glasses askew.

She had said nothing, not trusting herself to speak. Every part of her was tingly and her mind was filled with a fog that wouldn't let her focus on anything. She had simply left then, too flustered to worry about her odd response.

She hated her reaction to him, hated how she could fight wars, withstand torture, kill, but she would crumble under his touch. She hated him.

Or at least, she wished she did. Everything would be so much easier if she did.

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Thanks,

~Liliana