Much apologies—it's been a week since 32, and I'm sorry. This week sucked pretty bad for me. Hope you like these two. Jk rowling owns all.
Chapter Thirty-Three: Cheesy Grins and Potatoes
"Casey? Are you still mad?" Hermione asked softly, peering around the corner of the curtains.
"Go. Away."
"Casey, please, don't sit there and be angry all day."
"Hermione, d'you have a diary?" I asked suddenly, forcing a smile on my face.
"Well, yea-"
"Can I read it?"
"No! Are you crazy, that's personal-" she stopped short, flushing. "Oh. Look, I know it was an invasion of your privacy, but it was for your own good."
"Screw that, Hermione! You had no right!"
"Well at least we know, now."
"You knew before! I told you! Many times! There was no reason to look through my things except for your total lack of trust and respect for me!"
"You make it sound so terrible-"
"ARGGGHHHHH!" I threw my pillow at her. "Leave me alone!"
She gave me a ferocious 'stop being a baby' look, but obediently turned and left me clutching my remaining pillow to my chest as I felt my anger seething through my veins. Life sucks sometimes.
I stayed in my room until dinner, ignoring everyone's attempts to get me downstairs to the common room. I even waited until I knew they'd be gone before venturing down the huge staircase, wearing my huge comfy sweater for security. It was old, raggedy, and falling apart, but it was warm and reminded me of Christmases when my dad would gather me and my mom into the big armchair by the tree and read us "A Christmas Carol". Now I wore it when I felt lonely, sad, or just needed to be reminded of how he always used different voices for each character.
"Ah, here's Miss Franklin now," Professor Dumbledore said as I entered the Hall, everyone else already eating. "We were beginning to get worried."
"No need to worry about me," I said, being over-cheerful to a point of sarcasm. "I'm spectacular!"
Everyone gave me puzzled looks (Well, the faculty, at least) as I took the only empty seat (next to Harry) and pulled it to the end of the table. Plopping it down in a freed corner, I took a seat and forced a cheesy smile on my face. "What's the matter with everyone? I walk into the room and you all stop talking. No need to alienate me any more than you already have!"
Professor McGonagall whispered something to Dumbledore, who shook his head and started eating again. I tried to ignore the whispered conversations that began the second I reached for the potatoes, despite the number of times I heard my name being mentioned.
Setting the bowl back down, my eyes met with Remus'. He gave me a questioning look, silently asking what had happened. And for the first time since I had found out my supposed friend had went behind my back and betrayed me, I felt like crying. His warm eyes were holding mine, trying to read the thoughts behind them. Just the simple act of him caring that much.
Jerking my eyes down to my plate, I concentrated on cutting my food in tiny bites instead of the sideways glances from nearly everyone at the table. I was so bent on keeping each bite even, it was no wonder I was soon one of the last ones in the Hall. Only Dumbledore, Remus, and Snape remained.
"Casey, are you alright? You seem a little angst-ridden today." Dumbledore asked me, sipping a cup of cocoa.
"I'm fine, thank you," I muttered, pretending my chicken was Harry as I stabbed it with the prong of my fork. "Just tired."
"Did you have a pleasant Christmas?"
"It was just peachy, thanks for asking," I forced another cheesy smile. "How was yours?"
He raised an eyebrow. Snape was trying not to look too cheerful at my apparent bitterness. The vex had worn off by now, but I could still see a faint streak of blush on his cheek.
"Mine was good."
Remus was trying to stall the finishing of his own cup of tea. He kept taking minuscule sips, making me wonder if he was trying to get me alone. The thought made me feel a little better, but when I looked back at Snape's foul face, it disappeared.
"Severus, will you please go see if Minerva can come to my office in ten minutes, please?" Dumbledore asked softly, his voice holding a tone of unquestionable authority. Snape, looking irked that he had to leave, with me and Remus so close, stood up and mumbled something as he tried to walk slowly to the doors. Dumbledore waited until he had disappeared up the stairs before he spoke again.
"It has come to my attention," he began, setting his cup down, "that there are certain parties suspicious of an inappropriate relationship between the two of you."
Remus shot me an anxious look. "Who, sir?"
"That's not important. What is, however, that they've noticed something unusual." He gave us both stern looks. "I'm not going to condemn anyone for their private business, as long as it remains private. Do you understand?"
"Sir, I can assure you, we've done nothing….to be condemned…" Remus was saying.
"Remus Lupin, I could always tell when you were lying to me," he said, eyes twinkling. "Even when you were running around with James and Sirius."
"But, Sir, I swear-"
"Save your energy for everyone else. You'll have to do a lot of convincing for them, not for me. All I ask, is that you do nothing to tarnish the reputation of this school. I will be forced to take certain measures if it comes to it. Is that understood?"
I had my eyes focused on my plate. Remus answered, "Yes, sir," in a shaky voice for the both of us.
"Well that's that, then. Oh, Casey, dear---" I looked up to see his grin, "Lovely artwork. You have a talent. That's good to see."
I blushed bright red, redirecting my eyes to the ceiling. "Thank you, Professor."
"You two have a lovely evening." Dumbledore said softly, standing up.
"Goodnight, Professor," I whispered weakly as he began ascending the stairs towards his office. I raised my eyes to Remus'. He looked very shaken.
"How did he-?"
"Harry and Hermione." I answered.
"What-?"
"They found some of my drawings that I had done of you…"
It was his turn to blush. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" I sighed. "I'm sorry that I didn't hide them better."
He laughed, reaching out to cover my hand with his. "How are we going to manage this for another six months?"
"Eat very slowly." I smiled.
"We can always meet at night."
"Good idea. Then when I get caught wandering the halls, I can tell them I was just looking for something to eat…"
"Well? Do you have any better plans?"
"I can steal Harry's cloak."
"Oh, sure, that won't make anyone suspicious."
"What other choice do we have!?" I asked, exasperated.
"Weekends?"
"I don't know." I suddenly felt very tired. "I really don't know."
"We have to think of something."
"Do we have to do it right now?" I closed my eyes, resting my forehead on the table. "I've had a really bad day."
He moved to the seat next to me and put an arm around me, cheek on my shoulder. "Of course not, Casey. We have all the time in the world."
Chapter Thirty-Four: Foiled Surprises
We made a plan that night. Due to the overbearing suspicions of everyone around us, it'd be ludicrous to try to sneak away at night to see each other. Especially now, while everyone was still curious as to why I had drawings of Remus under my bed. So it was strictly student/teacher until the weekends. And even then, we could only see each other if there was some major happening to cover our absence. (Like a Quidditch game, or a trip to Hogsmeade).
Even with those set rules, disappointing as they were, we knew we'd be able to manage it. Especially since we had taken up writing letters and finding places to hide them for each other. It was while I was pulling a letter from out of the mouth of a Gargoyle statue that I was struck with an idea. An impromptu rendezvous.
With renewed enthusiasm, I hurried to the deserted bathroom to read the letter, already formulating my plan. Tonight was New Year's Eve—there was no way I would miss spending it with him. And, even though I had stopped speaking to them (aside from Ron—he had had no part in the sinister plot) I knew that the three of them were planning their own little celebration in Hogsmeade, using one of the secret passageways they had found along the line. Which meant less chance of them noticing I was gone.
I read his letter quickly, grinning like an idiot when I got to the closing line, as always, R. That was another precaution we took, in case someone else might find the letter before us—only using initials. Or code names, usually derived from one of the many books we both loved. He would be Lancelot, I was Guenever. Or Wesley and Buttercup.
At any rate, once I had finished reading the letter, I stuffed it into the back pocket of my jeans and hurried to the Common Room, working out the nasty little details to my midnight escapade I had planned.
"You look awfully chipper," Ron said causally, looking up from his game of Wizard Chess. Hermione glanced up, but lowered her eyes quickly.
"That's because I am in a chipper mood!" I did a little half-step on the carpet and sank into the chair next to him. "Who's winning?"
"I am, of course." Ron winked.
"Only because you distracted my knight two moves back!" Hermione huffed angrily.
"Where's Harry?"
Their mouths dropped open, Ron's hand poised in mid-air, reaching for his Bishop.
I looked at them, confused. "What?"
"I thought you hated him." Ron raised an eyebrow.
"I do! I just was wondering!" I scowled defensively. "Sorry I asked!"
"He's upstairs…" Hermione answered slowly. "Why?"
"No reason." I stood up. "See ya later."
"Hey—you coming tonight?" Ron called as I headed for the stairs. "We're gonna sneak into Hogsmeade and watch their fireworks!"
"I think I'll pass—but you guys have fun." I gave them both a bright smile before jogging up the steps to my room.
After McGonagall had come in to say goodnight, the three of them left, invisibility cloak in hand.
"You sure you don't wanna come?" Ron asked one last time as Harry and Hermione disappeared in front of me.
"I'll just be a fourth wheel," I waved a hand in the air. "Besides—I have my book, I have my colored quills… I'll be perfectly fine."
"Well alright." He looked reluctant to go. "You're missing out, Casey. The fireworks aren't like those ones you muggles always watch."
"I don't like loud noises too much," I lied. "But go on! You'll miss them if you stand in here all night!"
Ron shrugged and covered himself. I heard a disembodied "Later" before the portrait hole swung open and shut quickly.
As soon as I was sure they had gone, I sighed in relief, tucking a bookmark in between two pages of my book, setting it on the floor. The time was now. No one else was anywhere in the tower—I had it completely to myself for the first time that whole year. Doing a half-spin with my arms wide open, I grinned broadly before hurrying towards my room. In the trunk at the foot of my bed, which held all the clothes I had brought with me, I began tossing out pairs of socks and pants, trying to find what I was looking for.
"Aha." I pulled it out, tugging at the sleeves to un-wrinkle it as I gave it a once-over to see if it was decent enough. After finding no rips or tears, I quickly undressed and pulled the dress over my head, hair escaping my ponytail and flying in every direction as a result. Wrinkling my nose, I pulled the hair-tie out and shook my hair back, smoothing it once with an impatient hand. After shoving the rest of my clothes back into the trunk, I went to Hermione's bed stand and looked for her perfume. (the un-cursed one) I stuffed an extra pillow under my blanket (in case Herm came looking for me too early) and closed the curtains around the bed.
Ten minutes later, hair brushed back, smelling like melon-raspberries, and holding my sketchbook, I took a deep breath and crawled out of the Common Room to my Lancelot's room.
Luck was with me that night---I met or saw no one in the halls. Perhaps it was simply a misleading trick of fate. But whatever force was working that night, it was in my favor, and I reached the door to his office with a pounding heart and a nervous shake. We hadn't seen each other, alone, since Christmas dinner, and the last time I had worn a dress, it had been half-dark and surrounded by dozens of other dress-clad students. But now, tonight, it was only him and me, and his reaction would be all it took to make or break the smile on my face.
Giving a quick knock, I stood back and waited for him to open the door and see me.
Biting on my lip, I tried knocking again.
"Hmmm…. I didn't think about this one…" I pressed my ear against the door, trying to hear any tell-tale sounds to indicate he was inside. Perhaps asleep. But I heard nothing.
On a whim (and since luck was smiling on me) I tried the doorknob and swung open the door, disappointment sinking in as my eyes tried to pierce through the inky blackness. He hadn't said anything about being gone tonight. But then again, I hadn't really asked him his plans. Only assumed.
"Dammnit," I cursed softly, stepping inside. So much for surprising him.
I shut the door behind me quietly, setting my sketchbook on his desk and reaching over to turn on his table lamp. Bed neatly made, floor immaculate, his teapot standing silently at attention at the corner of his desk, it was like looking at an extension of my tidy professor. Even when he was out of the room, I felt he was standing there.
The great grandfather clock against the wall read 11:37. I stood, trying to decide what to do. Either go back to the Common Room, and ask him where he was the next time I had a chance, or wait for him to show up. Surprise him anyway. I mean, he couldn't be gone all night; the teachers all slept at Hogwarts every night.
Mind set, I tapped my wand on his tea kettle, bringing it to a full boil instantly. I grabbed two tea-cups, set the bags inside, and poured the hot water, eyes darting to the door every few seconds to check for any signs of his re-entry.
11:46.
Sighing, I sunk to his chair, half-heartedly twirling my wand like a baton.
11:53.
Head leaned back, staring up at the ceiling, swiveling his chair in semi-circles. Both cups of tea were drained. I thought about making some more, but decided against it. My bladder couldn't handle four cups. Not within ten minutes.
11:57.
I stared at the giant clock, transfixed as the pendulum swung back and forth. I remembered Mr. Davis, my physics teacher from back in the States, telling us how it managed to keep swinging, never stopping. Something about kinetic and potential energy being balanced. It made me homesick to think about, so I moved my eyes to the door, hoping Remus would walk in. Soon.
11:59.
I had my chin propped in my palm, watching the new snow falling outside the window. Not the way I had imagined I would be spending the evening.
12:01.
"Happy New Year," I whispered to the empty room, blinking back tears of frustration. Where was he? A million possibilities swarmed through my head, most of them bad. What if he had gotten hurt? Or worse, Snape had found out something and had him cornered?
What if he's out with someone? A nasty little voice asked suddenly.
"No way. He wouldn't do that."
You sure?
"Positive." I answered, but it sounded weak and uncertain.
Just go back to your room. Give up.
"No. What if he comes in the minute I leave? I need to see him."
You're an idiot.
"No I'm not."
Yes you are. Look at you. Dressed up, perfume on, hair brushed out, sitting in an empty room, talking to yourself.
"Shut up."
Go back to the tower. Spare yourself the embarrassment.
"I'm not leaving! So there!" I stuck my tongue out at the invisible voice, arms crossed over my chest defiantly. And, actually, it did.
The minutes turned into an hour. Then two. By then I was becoming extremely sleepy, the end result of five cups of tea and a warm, semi-dark room. I could feel my eyelids slipping lower and lower as I struggled to stay awake. Any minute now, I kept saying. He's coming. Just be patient.
I was fighting a lost battle. The last thing I registered was the clock, striking two a.m. before my eyes shut completely, sending me into a deep and, thankfully, dreamless sleep.