Authors Note: Alright, SO. The next couple of chapters are basically going to be me re-telling Prisoner of Azkaban from Gwen's POV lmao. I kind of intend to break up this... chapter? Next couple of chapters? Into smaller, bite-sized bits, that I just think are too small to be their own chapters (hence why this part contains two separate scenes).
This is... experimental. I never INTENDED to write this when I first started planning Dream Sequence as a story. But I'm just so excited to get Gwen into "canon" that I can't help myself. And PoA was always my favorite book. I want to give it my own spin.
YES things will happen in terms of Sev and Gwen's relationship. Remember how Sev said that she doesn't even know him? Well she's gonna learn what a paranoid weirdo he is real fast lol. Anyway hope you enjoy :'3
000
Pt. 1
You really could have done without all this rain.
Since you had arrived back at Hogwarts, the weather had become increasingly drearier. Bright summer sun had turned into gloomy overcast skies, eventually culminating into this rather magnificent storm on the evening of the Welcoming Feast. Not that you didn't love a good storm; there was nothing quite like curling up next to a large window with a cup of tea, watching the clouds and the rain and the lightning roll in, counting the seconds between the flash and the boom of thunder. But the steady decline of the weather happened to be a direct reflection of your personal emotional state, and frankly, you didn't appreciate being called out by Mother Nature like this.
You couldn't afford to fall back into another depression. You weren't back home with your mum around to take care of you; you were on your own again, and had to figure out how to take care of yourself before you were tasked with the responsibility of looking after hundreds of young students in less than two weeks. So, you had run away from your brutal disappointment and bitter frustrations by diving into your work. You'd unpacked all of your trunks in less than two days, methodically emptying box after box, decorating your new living quarters and setting up your classroom in record time. It had been a soothing sort of monotony, to take up an item and search for its new place in your new life, and it served to distract you for a time. But once you had completed the task… it left you with far too much time on your hands.
When he had visited your home, Dumbledore had recommended you take the time to reacquaint yourself with the castle. So, you'd done just that, familiarizing yourself with all of the floors and classrooms, from the astronomy tower to the dungeons. Then you'd taken your explorations out onto the grounds, walking the fields and paths from the edge of the Dark Forest to the shore of the Black Lake. Your ventures weren't always solitary, either; occasionally you were accompanied by Mrs. Norris, who'd taken quite a fancy to you after your first teatime date with Mr. Filch (who you suspected had also taken quite a fancy to you). Occasionally you would run into ghosts, receiving warm welcomes from both the Fat Friar and Sir Nicholas, and considerably colder greetings from the Grey Lady and the Bloody Barron. And then, of course, Peeves had trapped you in the Owlery for nearly an hour, and it had taken sending a rather humiliating letter down to McGonagall before you were finally released.
Thankfully, more and more teachers started to trickle into the castle as the days crawled by. You were both relieved and intimidated to find that the vast majority of the professors you would be working with were the very same professors who had taught you. You were also a bit startled to find that many of them were actually thrilled to see you. Your social calendar had been fuller in the past two weeks than it had been in the past two years. And frankly you were very happy for it, because once again, it had given you something productive and positive to do with your time. And all of the socializing was starting to slowly acclimate you back up to the surface, after days of feeling like you were drowning.
You'd had tea with Filius Flitwick, getting into a long conversation about founders magic, and the effect it had been having on you since you arrived. You'd spent nearly an entire night up in the astronomy tower with Aurora Sinistra, gazing at stars and discussing the first flight of the space shuttle Endeavour early last May. You'd been shocked to hear that Professor Kettleburn had finally thrown in the towel after all these years, but were elated when Hagrid told you that he would be taking up the post.
And you'd had an exceptionally long and tear-filled chat with Pomona Sprout, spilling your guts about your time in Albania, the fallout with Belby, your strained relationship with Lawrence, and your anxiety over… um… becoming a teacher... She'd been just as soothing and encouraging as she had been when she was your Head of House. Just having her to lean on, to cry into her shoulder and have her embrace you like the grandmother you'd never had, had been incredibly comforting. It was relieving to know that you had someone like that on your side, that you had someone you could confide in… Even if you were avoiding telling her what was actually on your mind.
Because it had been two weeks since you'd actually spoken to Severus.
Two weeks of awkward glances during staff meetings. Two weeks of passing each other in the halls, unwilling or unable to say anything beyond a curt greeting. It was absolute bloody torture, and it made you feel sick every time you lost another moment with him. Because this wasn't what you had wanted to happen…
And you really could have done without all this rain…
You should have been down in the Great Hall, socializing with the rest of the teachers as you waited for the Hogwarts Express to arrive for the Welcoming Feast. You were supposed to be excited. It was supposed to be thrilling! But the thought of mulling about the teachers table for an hour beforehand sounded absolutely miserable. So you'd stolen away to the staffroom, planting yourself in a squashy arm chair and gazing out the high, arched windows as the storm crept ever closer.
You really hoped the weather wasn't setting the stage for the rest of the year. It wasn't like rain in Scotland was a big shocker or anything. But… Well, you had made the mistake of paying a visit to Sybil Trelawney just this afternoon. She was the only other past teacher of yours whom you hadn't taken the time to catch up with since your arrival. She'd welcomed you cheerfully enough; you hadn't been super stellar at Divination, and hadn't made it past your O.W.L.'s, but you'd always enjoyed her class, and she seemed to appreciate that you'd given it your best shot, even if your inner eye was nearsighted. However, one cup of tea and a casual warning later, you weren't feeling as optimistic as you had been after your talk with Sprout. There had been a treacherous rat in your tea leaves, apparently, and she had told you to take caution in whom you placed your trust. It had been a dreadful echo of something Severus had told you weeks ago… that you were entirely too trusting. And he wasn't even wrong. It had gotten you in trouble before…
You sighed as you placed your second warming charm on the cup of coffee you'd been nursing for the past half hour, not feeling too inclined towards tea any more today.
The staffroom was dark; you'd extinguished the fire on the far end of the room once you'd acquired your coffee so you could watch the storm through the darkened windows. The only light beyond came from the rapidly setting sun behind the clouds, and the nearly full moon that was looming above them. That was one thing you actually were looking forward to tonight; meeting the new Defense professor. You hoped he would be well enough to attend the feast. If he'd undergone his transformation without the aid of Wolfsbane potion last night… you knew that the recovery time for an average transformation was not swift, and he would likely be at least lethargic, if he hadn't been outright injured by the ordeal. You were still befuddled as to why he'd decided not to arrive to the castle early, before the moon. Then maybe you could have at least gotten in a practice run before the next moon at the end of the month.
Your quiet introspection about werewolves and tealeaves was interrupted by the staffroom door creaking open, the light from the hallway beyond slicing a path across the darkened room to land on you. You squinted against the brightness as you leaned over the arm of your chair, disgruntled that your hiding place had finally been discovered. But your disappointment was replaced with a pang of apprehension as you recognized the silhouette carved out by the light beyond the door frame.
"There you are," Severus sighed as he stepped into the staffroom, allowing the door to swing shut behind him and plunging the room back into darkness. Your eyes complained at the back and forth between light and dark, but it wasn't long before you were shrouded in the much softer light of Severus' Lumos charm. You smiled meekly as he approached, the glow from his wand illuminating his own impassive features, but you were pleased to find one questioning eyebrow raised.
"Were you looking for me?" you asked innocently, genuinely curious (hopeful) if he had been. He hadn't paid much attention to you at all for the past few weeks. Or so it had appeared. Though to be fair, you hadn't made much of an effort to seek him out, either. You figured that you both had just needed a little time… Some distance couldn't hurt, given the current circumstances. (Except that it did hurt. It hurt so fucking much. You had waited for years to see him again and now…)
"As a matter of fact, yes I was," he stated, his eyes jumping from your cup of coffee, to your legs tucked up on the arm chair, then over to the empty fireplace. "Why are you sitting alone in the dark?" he asked plainly, and you made an affronted little noise as his gaze turned back to you. Like Mr. Dungeon Bat had any room to talk about how anyone should spend their time in the dark!
But you merely shrugged as you leaned back against the plush comfort of your chair, pulling your eyes away from him to stare out the window. The rain was pelting against the glass now, and beyond the shimmer of water cascading down the glass, you could see the swaying trees of the forest, and the white capped waves off of the lake. A streak of lightning illuminated the whole room, followed seconds later by its rumble of thunder. "I was watching the storm," you explained simply, retrieving your mug of coffee from the window sill and taking a deliberate sip from its cold contents.
Severus stared, the light from his Lumos charm shifting as he crossed his arms over his chest disapprovingly. "You should be in the Great Hall by now," he chastised, and for a brief moment, you got the disappointing impression that he has been looking for you on someone else's orders… But then he surprised you by sliding into the brown leather chair that was situated across from you, setting his still lit wand down on the window sill as he gazed out through the darkened window himself. You stared at him this time, your eyebrows creeping up your forehead, and he glanced towards you before waving his hand dismissively. "The Hogwarts Express has been delayed," he explained, and you frowned at the news. That didn't sound good… "We received word that the Dementors deemed it fit to search the entire train before allowing it to pass into Hogsmeade. Albus in livid."
Oh, yeah. Definitely not good. "Jesus… I can imagine," you murmured, staring down into your coffee cup, suddenly not feeling very inclined to finish it. You placed it back on the window sill with a soft sigh. You'd actually forgotten about the Dementors. They would be arriving tonight as well... You had only ever read about them, but reading about werewolves hadn't exactly made you any more prepared to deal with them either. Were they the cause of this hideous weather? "They're taking this Sirius Black business pretty seriously, huh?" It was a stupid thing to say, because duh. But you were grasping at straws, for anything to say to keep him near. Keep him talking. This was the most he'd spoken to you in weeks…
But perhaps you had said the wrong thing. In the diminishing light of the Lumos charm, you saw his face twist into a rictus scowl that had you taken aback. "As they should," he spat, the vehemence behind his words causing you to stiffen. "He's a dangerous murderer, and he deserves what he's got coming to him." He was still facing the window, his chin in his palm and his elbow propped up on the armrest, but you could feel the loathing radiating off of him in waves. And it was… startling. He was usually so controlled. Or at least he had been when you were a student. But this was the second time he'd become seriously angry at the mere mention of a name since you'd returned, and it was alarming. You knew that Black was indeed a dangerous man, but most people spoke of him with fear or disgust. But what Severus seemed to harbor was true hatred, and you had to wonder if there was something else behind that detestation… You'd never given it much thought, but you knew Severus would have been a young man during the First Wizarding War. Had Black killed someone Severus had been close to..? Had You-Know-Who…?
Once upon a time, you might have been able to pluck up the courage to ask him just that. But now you were hesitant, staring across the empty space between you, unsure if you were allowed to ask him personal questions any more. He'd been so distant since he'd left your room that morning two weeks ago, both of you holding on to silent promises from the other. You understood why he may have wanted to distance himself, to keep you at arm's length. But you'd spent years chipping away at his defenses, rewarded with just the barest peek inside. And you weren't about to let him just seal the crack you'd made without putting up a fight. How were you supposed to learn more about him, if he was just going to shut you out?
"Hey, Severus?" you asked suddenly, starting up in your chair with a sudden jolt. He pulled his attention away from the window now, his face a smooth mask once again as he turned to face you, resting his cheek against his knuckles. Though... not that smooth. The line between his brows had deepened, and there was an inexplicable softness around his eyes… It was an expression you were unfortunately familiar with. Concern, and beneath that… regret. It was the look he gave you when he realized that he was the cause of your suffering. And it broke your heart.
"Can…" You paused, trying to formulate the best way to make your request. But you knew that the only way to properly communicate what you needed to say, was to simply be honest. "Can things stop being weird, between us?" you asked quietly, a sad, rueful smile pulling at your lips. You hadn't come this far together, to pretend like you didn't even know each other anymore. You hadn't waited three fucking years to come back Hogwarts just to be denied the chance to be close to him again. You had accepted that you couldn't have what you desired just yet. But why did that mean you couldn't have anything at all in the meantime? "I miss you," you admitted softly, your eyes falling down to your lap as you fidgeted absently with the hem of your broomstick skirt. "And I just want to go back to the way things were before…"
Rain continued to patter against the window pane, though it seemed to be slowing down now. The thunder and lightning had thinned out as well, taking longer between flashes and booms through the sky. As the storm droned on outside, the silence within the staffroom felt oppressive, leaving so much empty space for panic to start setting in. But it was also a familiar sort of tension. Like how you used to feel waiting outside of his office door for him to come retrieve you. Or how he would wait for you to make eye contact with him before he…
Your eyes narrowed slightly as you finally lifted your eyes to meet his, and the subtle smirk curling the corner of his lip was utterly maddening. He'd been doing it since you were a girl, making sure he had your full attention before giving you his answer. It was like clockwork, and just like that, the tension snapped. You were snickering into the back of your hand, and he was lounging back in his chair, looking ever so smugly satisfied. And the overwhelming relief that came with being back to normal was palpable.
"Smartass," you muttered, wiping your eyes with the heel of your hand, and it was his turn to bark out a laugh. Yes. God. You drank in the sound like nourishment, regretting the lack of a fire because you wanted to see it too. But it was still lingering on his lips as he reached toward the window sill and reclaimed his wand, the Lumos charm suddenly flashing back to full strength. You both took a few moments, simply staring at one another in the soft light of magic that circled you. Your own mirth petered out, and his face had relaxed to something passing for contented.
"I think I can manage that," he answered finally, holding one hand out for yours. You stared down at it, at those long, elegant fingers you'd been so shamefully obsessed with as a girl, and you made no hesitation as you slipped your hand into his, taking his invitation and allowing him to help haul you to your feet. But as you came to stand beside him, that contentment on his face seemed to harden, and you felt your heart flutter in your throat with fear as he asked, "Can you?"
You frowned slightly at this, and dropped you gaze as you stared down between the both of you. It was… a legitimate question. You couldn't just pretend your feelings didn't exist. They were out in the open now, and even the distance of the last few weeks had done nothing to dampen them. But you knew, or at least, you hoped, that he felt the same way… So maybe you couldn't go back to exactly the way things were before. But you could at least make the effort. You'd agreed to take things slow, to give him the time that he needed to… work out whatever it was that needed working out.
You smiled sadly as you slipped your hand out of his, crossing your arms under your chest instead as you nodded. "I'll… do my best," you promised him quietly. And you would… But you would use the time that he needed to your own advantage as well. You would strive to know him better. You would facilitate the bridges you'd already built between you in order to build new ones, and you would prove to him that it was safe to let you in.
You smiled sadly again as you felt a broad, warm hand settle onto the small of your back, and you leaned into it as you were quietly lead to the staffroom door. It certainly wasn't going to be easy. But you took comfort know that… you weren't the only one who was going to have a difficult time keeping your hands to yourself.
Pt. 2
It was a different vantage point from up here. So many years of your life had been spent sitting at those long house tables, eating and studying and laughing with your friends under the floating candles and enchanted ceiling. Every time you'd entered this hall after summer holidays as a girl, you were instantly reminded of just how cool magic was. But gazing out over the tables now, from the perspective of the staff table was… staggering, to say the least. You'd been preparing for this for months; doing research, planning courses, packing trunks. You'd spent the last few weeks getting everything ready, and you were reasonably prepared to wake up tomorrow morning, put on your robes, and teach your first class. But right now, as you sat at the high table watching students pour in through the doorway, their shouts and laughter echoing off of the walls as they took up their seats… It was like realizing for the first time that you were a grown up. Not an adult; you'd been claiming to be an adult for years now. But as a grown up… You were a professor. At Hogwarts. And you were about to be responsible for the education, discipline, nurturing, and protection of hundreds of young minds.
And there was nothing quite like having an existential crisis in front a hall full of teenagers.
You weren't sure if it was good or bad that you weren't sitting next to Severus at the moment. Had you been, you might have reached for his hand under the table and clutched it for dear life. Or at least confided to him that you were freaking out, and take comfort in the familiar embrace of his cold admonishment. But as it was, he was situated between Dumbledore and Sprout at the center of the table, and you were seated at the far end with only empty chairs for company. You had been one of the last to arrive into the Great Hall, so seating had been limited. And the chair between yourself and Professor Vector was nearly two times the size of a normal one, and Hagrid had not yet arrived in order to occupy it. This left you sitting awkwardly by yourself, and it didn't help you feel any less lonely, despite being in a hall full of people. You couldn't even manage to catch Severus' eye, not that you would have known what to do if you had.
The general atmosphere of the Great Hall did not help to ease your nerves. Hovering low over the house tables, the enchanted ceiling reflected the tumultuous weather outside with dark, heavy clouds occasionally glowing with lightning, and a cascade of rainfall that seemed to disappear just above where the candle floated. God, the poor first years crossing the lake! Did they still make them do that, if it was raining? No wonder Hagrid wasn't here yet. Even the students who had already arrived looked impossibly morose for the occasion, most of them sodden with rain, a few of the older students and prefects casting Hot-Air Charms on their housemates to try and stave off the chill. At first you wondered if their dour mood had anything to do with getting caught in the storm. But then you remembered the Dementors, and you felt anxious all over again.
You wanted to leave. Your legs were bouncing anxiously under the staff table with the pent up impulse to flee. Now that all of the students had settled in, you knew that McGonagall would be arriving any minute with the first years to begin the Sorting Ceremony. Surely it wasn't mandatory to be present for that, right? You weren't a head of house or anything. You didn't even teach first years. You didn't want to leave all together, mind. You just needed a moment, a breath of fresh air, a bit of silence to gather your thoughts and convince yourself that you were worthy of being here and that-
The scrape of the chair next to you being pulled out made you physically jump, though you managed not to yelp out loud. It wasn't Hagrid's chair though, but the other one. You peered up, ashen faced from your fretting, as a tired looking man in tattered, dated robes settled down beside you.
And you recognized him instantly. Not because you'd ever met him, or even seen him before, but because you'd spent enough time around werewolves to be able to identify one on sight. From the grey streaking his light brown hair, to the pale red scars running across his face. You would wager there were raised, puckered marks on his hands and fingers. And somewhere on his body, there would be the remnants of a bite wound. A little color returned to your face then as you glanced down at your empty plate. It certainly wasn't your place to speculate where that particular scar might be. Though you knew Desma's had been on the back of her thigh…
"Is it alright that I sat here?"
You jumped again, startled out of your rather shameful musings as you turned to face your fellow professor. He was offering a sort of tight, apprehensive smile, like he was reluctant to know the answer to his own question. Which was a rather confusing question, now that you thought about it. There weren't any other seats available at the staff table, so it wasn't like he could have sat somewhere else. "Pardon?" you asked shakily, pushing your hair behind you ear, hoping he would think that maybe you just hadn't heard him correctly.
But his sad smile only seemed to grow more melancholy, as if he'd resigned himself accepting some great disappointment. "You seemed a little apprehensive," he sighed, like he'd said these words a thousand times before. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." He spoke calmly, deliberately, as if trying to placate a frightened child that was about to flee, which only deepened your confusion, seeing as you were neither of those things. He lifted his green eyes to scan over the rest of the staff table like he was looking for something. "I could perhaps swap with someone, if you'd rather not share a table with a-"
You gasped, the pieces of the puzzle sliding together in rapid succession, and before you could even think about what you were doing, your hand had shot out to take his. Your fingers molded over the back of his hand (you could feel the scars on his palms with your fingertips) and you squeezed firmly in an attempt to convey that you wanted him to stay right where he was. "I am so sorry," you bemoaned, wincing as he stared down at your joined hands in surprise. You made no move to release him, though you did loosen your grip, just a little. He had to know that you weren't afraid…
And the only acceptable course of action was to tell the truth. "I'm anxious because it's suddenly all become very real to me that I'm about to be a teacher at the most prestigious school of magic in the wizarding world," you explained, gazing out over the hall. The doors had opened again, revealing the first years being led by… Flitwick? You didn't have time to think too hard about that, before returning your attention to your companion. He was still looking confused, so you offered an apologetic smile and squeezed his hand reassuringly one last time. "It has absolutely nothing to do with you being a…" you glanced around shiftily, making sure you weren't being overheard, before cupping a hand against your mouth and leaning in to whisper, "A Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I've heard they're cursed, but I don't believe the rumors."
There was a moment of stunned silence, before a wide, amused grin spread over his face, and your breath caught in your throat. He looked about ten years younger all of a sudden, and you couldn't help but smile timidly in return. You felt an odd little twitch in your chest, which you knew was bad news. Because he reminded you so much of Desma that it made your heart ache. The brown hair peppered with grey, the lines around unnaturally bright eyes, the scars marring strong hands… The hand you were still holding, you realized, and you felt heat crawl up your cheeks as you gently pulled away. He was still smiling as you both turned your attention towards the proceedings; Professor Flitwick had just levitated the stool and Sorting Hat out to the center platform, and you figured you at least had to pay attention while the Hat sang its song.
You could truly empathize with the terrified looks of the first years as the sorting began. Though, to be honest, you had been much less nervous about being sorted as an 11 year old, than you were now as an adult getting ready to start a new career. God, you wish you still had the misguided confidence that you'd had as a pre-teen. Nothing and no one could intimidate you. Every day had been an adventure, because everything was so bright and magical and new. Now you were… jaded, you guessed. And that was sort of a depressing thought...
Pull yourself together, woman.
You concentrated on the sorting, clapping enthusiastically whenever a new Hufflepuff was born, trying to remember names and faces, even though you knew you wouldn't be teaching any of them. Because this job wasn't just about the teaching bit. You glanced toward the center of the table, but Severus appeared to be deeply invested in the sorting as well, which was understandable, seeing as he was the head of Slytherin. But the deep scowl marring his face seemed a little more excessive than usual…
Hagrid arrived about half way through the ceremony, looking rather like a shaggy dog who had just gotten a fresh blow-dry (had he tried to cast the Hot-Air Charm himself? On himself?). He was also looking just as nervous as the first years, and you intimately understood the struggle. You realized this whole end of the table had become the newbie section, and you were dreading the inevitable moment when Dumbledore would be announcing your appointments. You held out hope that both you and Hagrid would be sufficiently inebriated before it happened…
But of course, when were you ever allowed to have the things you wanted in life?
As Flitwick carried off the hat and stool, and McGonagall apparently appeared out of nowhere to take her seat beside the Headmaster, Dumbledore rose from his chair, his arms outstretched as he greeted the student body to another year at Hogwarts. This was usually the part where he would make a pun, claiming to have a few things to say, before uttering a few nonsense words and beginning the feast. But he was suddenly looking quite solemn, and your heart sank as he suggested getting the announcements out of the way now, as some of them were quite serious, and he wanted the student's full attention.
Which was smart, you reasoned. He certainly wasn't wrong; the Dementors were a serious issue, and you felt your skin crawl at the confirmation that they would be stationed at every entrance on the grounds. You honestly weren't sure you'd even want to visit Hogsmeade, if that were the case… But as Dumbledore continued on about the Dementors and their inability to be fooled or even reasoned with, you noticed that he was decidedly not saying anything about Sirius Black. And you felt a sick little squirm in your stomach as you considered that… perhaps it was not Black, who Dumbledore saw as the greater threat to the school. There was a pregnant pause after the Headmaster finished giving his warning, allowing his words to settle into the minds of his students. The weight of the situation was evident in the silence that prevailed in a room full of teenagers.
"On a happier note," Dumbledore announced genially, breaking the tension with his more customary, kindly voice. "I am pleased to welcome three new teachers to our ranks this year."
Oh god. Already? Right now? Did he have to do this right now? Why couldn't he save the less important announcements until after the feast? You twisted your hands into your copper skirt under the table as your heart leapt into your throat. A wave of dizziness washed over you as you leaned back into your chair, and you were only slightly comforted to see that Hagrid looked just as tense as you felt. The only one of you who appeared capable of remaining calm was-
"First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
You forced your hands out from under the table in order to join the smattering of applause that broke out among the house tables. You gazed up at Lupin as he stood, tipping his head in a cordial little bow, and you silently cursed him for setting the precedent, because that meant you would have to stand now, too. You could see a group of Gryffindor's who were clapping particularly enthusiastically for the new Defense professor, and you couldn't help wondering if it was an intentional dig towards Severus. Even when you were a student, everyone knew he wanted the position for himself. Which… honestly baffled you, given how passionate he actually was about potions. You glanced back at the head of the table once again, and your clapping stuttered to a halt at the look of deepest loathing that was being hurled in your direction.
Not at you. But at Lupin. And your already throbbing heart pounded faster, because that was… alarming. He'd gotten so angry at the mere mention of the new professors name at the Hog's Head, too. This wasn't just disappointment over missing out on the Defense job again. This felt… personal. You just desperately hoped that it wasn't because Lupin was a…
"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued on, explaining how Professor Kettleburn had taken his leave at the end of last year. Oh, thank god. Hagrid was next. Lupin took his seat beside you, turning in your direction to offer you a reassuring smile. Which marginally soothed you as you tried to return it, but Lupin's gaze had been pulled away from yours… and his smile immediately faltered as he apparently glimpsed Severus' glare from across the table.
"I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by one other than Rubeus Hagrid-"
The sudden uproar of applause was staggering compared to the enthusiasm the students had shown for Lupin, which was to say, not much at all. Hagrid, looking like a deer caught in headlights, stumbled up to his feet, knocking his chair back while simultaneously causing the actual table to skid forward by half a foot as he bumped it with his knees. His cheeks were beet red as he stared bashfully down at his hands, and you leaned forward in order to catch his eye, offering a wide grin as you joined in on the applause. And though it was hidden under his mass of black beard, you could tell that he was smiling back. Hagrid was such a pure soul, he honestly deserved this. And you were pleased to see that he was just as popular with the students now as he had been when back when you were a girl. As Hagrid settled back into his chair, he pulled the table back to rights, before gathering up an edge of the table cloth to wipe his streaming eyes. You reached over to pat his hand sympathetically, and he gave a great big sniffle as he nodded that he was alright.
"And finally," Dumbledore pressed on, the applause for Hagrid still clamoring as a few students from the Gryffindor table persisted. Which was perhaps to your benefit; maybe no one would notice when the Headmaster announced your name and you inevitably peed your pants. Skirt. Whatever. Your stomach lurched as Dumbledore waited for silence instead, and you felt like you were about to swoon. "Taking on the role Muggle Studies teacher, will be returning Hufflepuff Alumni, Gwendolyn Goode."
You were momentarily stunned as another boisterous round of applause burst forth from the house tables at the announcement of your name. That… had been the last reaction you were expecting. You'd anticipated to be more or less ignored, much as Lupin had been, if you were being honest. As you dazedly pushed yourself to your feet, you could see that the majority of the cheering was coming from the Hufflepuff table, where you saw a multitude of familiar faces. They had been much younger faces when you'd last seen them, but you had seen them before. They'd been first, second and third years when you'd graduated. Now they were all in their fifth, sixth and seventh. And the applause wasn't limited to Hufflepuff, but a fair amount of Gryffindor's and Ravenclaw's as well. And they were all clapping riotously for you.
You felt a massive hand pat against your back, and you turned to see Hagrid beaming over at you. You returned his smile, before turning it back towards the students, forgoing the prim little bow you had been planning and instead raising both hands to wave enthusiastically. The gesture was met with several shouts and piercing whistles (Were those the Weasley twins? You were shocked they hadn't been expelled yet, and you'd only known them for a year.) and you felt tears spring to your eyes as you crumpled bonelessly back into your chair. Hagrid held out an edge of table cloth to you, and you laughed through your tears as you took him up on the offer.
As you turned your head to dab your eyes, you saw that the students hadn't been the only ones clapping. Sprout was absolutely beaming at you as she held her clasped hands to her bosom, simply exuding pride and delight for her former student. Dumbledore was smiling kindly as he waited for the last of the applause to die down. And Severus… wasn't looking at you at all. Indeed, his eyes were downcast, as if intentionally avoiding anyone's gaze. And you hoped it was because he was suppressing a smile for you.
"Well, I think that's everything of importance," Dumbledore decided finally. He gazed out over the Great Hall, before clapping his hands and announcing, "Let the feast begin!"
You sighed with relief as the platters and goblets suddenly filled with food and drink. Not because you were particularly hungry; indeed you still felt a bit queasy after all of that. But the pleasant buzz of conversation and excitement filled the room again, and this time the background hum wasn't a precursor to dread, but the sound of normalcy. You filled your plate with salad and a chicken leg, but it was mostly for show; you were considerably more interested in the goblet of wine that Hagrid had filled for you. You were taking a soothing sip from it when you saw Lupin lean toward you out of the corner of your eye.
"You're rather popular, for being a new teacher."
You blushed deeply, your face heating up with shame and embarrassment, remembering how much applause he had gotten compared to yours. You held your goblet in your lap and smiled sheepishly over at him as he ravaged his plate of chicken and roasted potatoes. "I really wasn't expecting all that," you promised, glancing back to the Hufflepuff table. You may have felt bad, but you were unable to contain your smile despite yourself. "I'd forgotten that I actually went to school with a lot of them."
Lupin smiled genially, shaking his head to indicate that he wasn't being resentful; he was just interested. "Indeed," he intoned, following your line of sight to the house tables as well. "Dumbledore told me all about you, of course. But I'm ashamed that I didn't quite put it together when you mentioned being a new teacher as well." You tilted your head curiously; put what together? You weren't exactly surprised that Dumbledore had told him about you; he'd certainly told you all about Lupin. But it wasn't like you expected Lupin to recognize you on sight. Not the way you had been able to recognize him, at least. "That is," Lupin continued, looking a little flustered. "I didn't realize that you were the Gwendolyn Goode he'd told me about. Frankly, with all you've accomplished, I didn't expect you to be quite so young."
Your face was already red. Why'd he have to go and point out something like that? You hid your embarrassment in your wineglass, before muttering, "I'm choosing to take that as a compliment."
Lupin laughed, and it was so genuine that it left you taken aback, which you realized was just absurd. Geeze… You'd gotten so used to being around men who hid their emotions that it was… refreshing, to see someone be so open and honest. "My apologies," he insisted, that affable smile still on his lips as he dabbed them with a napkin. He'd already finished his first plate, and was loading up a second. "But yes, you should take it as a compliment. What you've achieved so soon out of Hogwarts is really quite remarkable."
He paused then, staring down at his plate of food, as if the mere reality of helping himself to seconds was a novelty. It probably was. "I owe you a great deal, you know," Lupin commented softly, tilting his head to face you earnestly. "You're entirely the reason why I have gainful employment for the first time… well ever, really. Not only did you develop the potion that will help ease my… affliction. But I've also been told that you'll be the one to… help me through my..."
You nodded in validation of his lingering words. You weren't going to make him say it out loud. But still, his words continued to make you blush, and you felt like you had to keep drinking wine in order to give your cheeks an excuse. "I'm not the only one who developed it…" you tried to clarify, playing off your contributions in the name of modesty. But Lupin wasn't having it.
"That's not what I heard," he scoffed as he started cutting up his third piece of chicken. "Dumbledore seems to have it on good authority that you had a great deal of influence on the potion, and you should have been the one to receive that Order of Merlin."
Dumbledore sure talked a lot. But you also know that Dumbledore hadn't gleaned that information himself. You placed your wineglass back on the table, using the motion to shift in your seat and peer down towards the head of the table. Severus appeared to be in deep conversation with the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress, and you smiled ruefully. "That good authority has a rather high opinion of himself," you claimed, forgoing any sense of decorum while McGonagall wasn't looking and simply picking up your chicken leg with your fingers. Term hadn't even started and you were already feeling rebellious. "But thank you all the same."
Lupin arched a light brow at your lack of etiquette, but smiled earnestly again as he set down his fork and knife in order to join you. "I should be thanking you" he insisted. "Not just for your work on the potion but…" He paused thoughtfully for a moment, and you were surprised to find color suffusing his scarred cheeks. You put down your chicken and wiped your hands with your napkin, giving him your full attention. "Well you didn't have to agree… to be my nursemaid, as it were."
You felt your heart ache as he said it, and you felt guilty for ever thinking that you were being used in this situation. Because you would have volunteered, even if Dumbledore hadn't tasked you with it in the first place. "Remus," you spoke his first name decisively, and that certainly got his attention. He turned to face you, and you returned his sincerity with an open smile of your own. "I'm happy to do it," you avowed, reaching across to him and settling your hand against his upper arm. He started down at where your hand rested, and you felt your heart ache again. "You remind me so much of my…" you hesitated, swallowing hard as you thought of Desma. They were so much alike… "Of one of my volunteers, back in Albania," you finished, knowing you hadn't really saved it. But you could only be so honest with someone you'd just met, and comparing your new colleague with you ex probably wasn't a cute look. "I've spent the last three years of my life treating and caring for people like you. It's only natural that I would continue to do so."
Lupin stared at you for several long moments, and it might have made you uncomfortable, where you not staring back just as intensely. You needed him to understand that this wasn't for show, and that you were being sincere. (You got an odd sense of déjà vu.) But after a beat, his penetrating gaze morphed into a sort of sad, but pleased smile. You returned it. "The fact that you didn't even hesitate to call us 'people' speaks volumes to your character," he sighed. And you nodded, knowing that this admission was not something you were supposed to be proud of, because it was something that shouldn't even be necessary. You weren't expecting a pat on the back for being a decent human being. His gaze was pulled away from yours though, as he passed a glance over the head of the table, his smile dropping. "Some would gladly categorize us as less than human."
You stiffened slightly, your hand still resting lightly on Lupin's arm as you followed his gaze. Severus was scowling out across the great hall… and you got the unnerving impression that he had just quickly averted his gaze from whatever had caused that scowl in the first place. You felt your stomach lurch, and you decide you were most certainly done eating for the evening.
(You didn't want to believe… But he'd gotten so angry…)
"I have every intention of changing those sorts of opinions," you stated assertively, your attention back on Remus as you gave his arm a gentle squeeze. He was wiping his hands on how own napkin as he smiled down at you. It was that sad smile again that made your heart ache, but it merely strengthened your conviction.
"I truly hope that you do."