The Great Hall buzzes around you with the start of term feast is in full swing. The hall is brightly lit, the food inviting and the chatter cheerful but you can't shake off the cold feeling, the feeling of dread that had found you on the train. You had known as soon as the train had stopped what was happening, unlike the friends who occupied the carriage with you, you had experience of dementors, and as you felt them draw closer to the train that overwhelming sickness crept over you, the same as it had when you visited your brother Gaheris in Azkaban.
What your parents were thinking when they took you to that place you had no idea. You'd just turned four when Gaheris had been taken away, the war had ended and the Death Eaters rounded up and sent off to Azkaban and left to rot. You loved Gaheris, you still had memories of him dancing you about the drawing-room. After he had gone away you had written to him weekly, for years and years, even now you sent him letters, even after you had seen what had become of him. You're jostled from your memories by a sudden shriek of laughter. Further along the Slytherin table, Draco is putting on some pantomime that involves over-the-top fainting, much to the amusement of the third years surrounding him.
"Marcus, what's going on?" you ask the boy next to you.
Marcus Flint turns to you with a grin, "haven't you heard? Poor little Potter fainted on the train when the Dementors got on…you alright Travers?".
"What? Oh yes, I'm okay, just a bit cold" you reply fixing your face into a smile to hide the stab of pity you had felt for Potter.
"Want me to warm you up?" Flint asks with a leer. "No thank you, Marcus" you say with an eye roll.
"One day Travers, I'm promising you one day you'll say yes!" he says with a smirk before turning to watch Draco's further theatrics.
You sigh and turn back to your empty plate, he's right of course, one day you might have to say yes. The women of your family have one thing to do and one thing only, to marry well. Marrying well means marrying into another pureblood family, giving them the heirs of the next generation and keeping free of gossip and scandal. Love doesn't come into it, it certainly didn't for your parents. It always amazes you how they managed to have your younger brother considering how much they loath each other. Of course, needs must, Gaheris is in Azkaban for life, the line couldn't die out with him and so it was they forced themselves to create Bedivere, he'll be starting Hogwarts next year, though you've overheard your father threatening to send him away to Durmstrung, something your mother could not bear to consider. Travers wives love their children, well their sons anyway. And so, you're facing a future where marriage is the only option, with a limited scope in grooms as well – never mind your talent for potions, never mind that all the eligible pureblood heirs make your skin crawl - you have an inescapable duty to your family. You sigh again but it goes unnoticed by your fellow Slytherins, you're just thinking that you should force yourself to eat something then the food vanishes and with a wave Dumbledore calls the feast to a close. You and the rest of the table stand to leave, the room spins slightly but you steady yourself.
"Can you believe it though, that oaf teaching us? Us?"
It's Draco, he's pushed through the crowd to speak to you and Flint, by 'Us' he means the family. You and Draco are related, through your mothers, fourth cousins, or something, you could never quite remember and quite frankly you could never bring yourself to care, you just mentally remind yourself to get married before Draco comes of age. The thought of Lucius Malfoy as a father-in-law would be enough to put you off, your father has some colourful names for the man who slipped the net and escaped Azkaban while his heir was caught and a chance encounter with him last year was enough to put you off even if Draco wasn't such a little weasel. You suddenly shudder and this time the room tilts violently. You reach to steady yourself but again the room tilts.
"What's wrong with her?" you hear a voice ask but the floor has fallen away now, and darkness has descended.
You gradually become aware of your surroundings. You're laying on something soft, a bed, though the back of your head throbs. The unmistakable scent of the hospital wing gradually fills your nostrils. You open your eyes, your mouth feels full of sawdust.
"What happened?" you croak.
"You fainted Miss Travers" comes a reply to your left.
You turn your head slowly, wincing at the pain, to see the speaker. Your Heard of House sits regarding you.
"I'm sorry professor" you start to say.
"You have nothing to be sorry about, I don't suppose you chose to faint, you have more sense than that, especially as it was Mr Flint whose arm you fell into" Professor Snape says sardonically.
You grimace at the thought of falling into Marcus' arms and catch Snape trying to hide his amusement at your reaction.
"I'm afraid Mr. Flint was caught off guard and dropped you" Snape adds.
"So that's why my head hurts" you say reaching up gingerly to touch the bandage wrapped around.
"Yes, the flagstones saw to that" Snape adds, not unkindly. "I'm glad no really harm seems to have been done" he adds standing up suddenly, "I'm relying on you to bring the NEWT Potions' average up, you are the only one in an abysmal year with an ounce of talent for it"
"Thank you, sir" you say with a smile.
It might seem like not much of a compliment, but you also know that he wrote to your parents last year encouraging them to allow you to pursue a career in Potions, that a talent like yours should not be disregarded. You had rescued it from the flames after your father had thrown it into the fire with contempt and called Snape an 'upstart half-blood'.
"Madam Pomfrey wants you to spend the night here, I wish you good…" Snape says turning to leave, but there is a creak of the door and he stops dead.
You pull yourself up to see who it is. A man in shabby robes stands at the door smiling slightly, you vaguely remember seeing him at the feast, a new professor or something, you hadn't been paying attention, as soon as Dumbledore had started talking about the Dementors you had been back in that cell, back in Azkaban, six years old and terrified.
"Lupin…I thought I told you I would bring it to you in your room" Snape says with barely disguised contempt.
The man seems not to notice, he is looking past Snape to you, the gentle smile unwavering.
"Yes Severus of course, please leave it on my desk, I'll drink it promptly, but I came to see how the patient was doing"
"And what is the health of one of my house got to do with you?" Snape glowers.
"I recognise the after-effects of a Dementor attack and I wanted to make sure that Madam Pomfrey was aware and treating accordingly" the man adds seeming to be completely unaware of the contempt radiating from his fellow professor.
Snape turns to look at you, "Is that right (NAME)? It's the Dementors that caused you to faint? Mr. Flint told me you hadn't touched any of the feast, I assumed it was lack of food that had caused the fainting" Snape asks, an edge of accusation in your voice.
You give a small shrug and the man approaches your bed and sits down in the seat that Snape had so recently vacated.
"Please eat this" the man asks gently. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bar of Honeydukes. He unwraps in and hands you a small piece. You pop it into your mouth and bite down, a feeling of warmth releases over you.
"How are you feeling now?" he asks.
"A bit better, thank you Professor…"
"Lupin, I'm the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher" he says.
So that's why Professor Snape doesn't like him you think, settling back against the pillows.
"You should really eat some more" Lupin says breaking you off another small piece. You slowly reach out to take it, your fingers brushing his as you take the chocolate and a warmth floods you that has nothing to do with the chocolate.
The reaction scares you looking up quickly you see a fear in Lupin's eye as well. He coughs slightly and breaks eye contact.
"You shouldn't feel ashamed," he says, "I mean, about the Dementor's effect on you" he adds. "We all react differently the first time we experience them, it all depends on our memor…"
"It wasn't the first time" you quietly interrupt.
"What? You've met them before?" Lupin asks with a mix of confusion and concern.
You nod, "my brother is in Azkaban, I went to visit him when I was six"
"Six? Your parents allowed you to go to Azkaban when you were six?" Lupin asks recoiling in horror.
You see an involuntary movement from Professor Snape who is still watching you both. You nod again. It felt good to say it. You've never told anyone else before. Of course, everyone knows your older brother is there, but you've never told them you've been there as well.
"What is your name?" Lupin asks curiously.
"It's Travers, she's Geriant Traver's daughter" Snape says before you have time to answer.
A slight smirk plays across Snape's face as he looks at Lupin. Professor Lupin had turned to look at Snape but even without seeing his expression you can sense this news has caused a change in him.
Lupin turns back to look at you and fixes a slightly pained smile on his face, "well then, I suggest you eat the rest of the bar" he says placing it on the covers as far away from you as it can be, as if avoiding physical contact at all cost. "Good night Miss…Travers, I expect I'll see you around the school"
"Oh you will Lupin, she's studying DADA as one of her NEWTS" Snape says, the smirk again on his face.
Lupin almost looks back at you but at the last minute avoids eye contact, he smiles the pained smile again and with a nod leaves the hospital wing.
Snape lets him pass before looking you dead in the eye, and then turning to follow his fellow professor.
You lay awake for hours wondering at the strange reaction. You're used to your name causing ripples but why was he so upset and why do you care so much? You remember that feeling when his fingers brushed you...Oh a crush on a professor, how ridiculous, you scold yourself. Still, Lupin, is that a pureblood name? Not one of the 28 for sure, but a minor family perhaps? You scold yourself again, he's a professor and you're a student, he doesn't look like he has two knuts to rub together, get it out of your mind you command yourself and you fall finally into a fitful sleep.