O

NIKE

Victory

In the end, Hope asked Teddy what to do about Dom. She doubted she would be able to speak to her parents without giving away what she was really talking about, and Dom was right. They were too close to Bill and Fleur to hide something like this from them. Dom would be furious if she found out that Hope had gone directly against her repeated plea not to tell them, but she had said nothing about speaking to Teddy.

She sought her brother out one evening, and explained how mean Elodie could be, how her unkind comments were getting more pointed and hurtful as time went on and how Dom seemed increasingly upset by it.

"Dom doesn't want to say anything," she finished. "And she doesn't want me to say anything either, but- but do you think I should?"

Teddy's brown eyes were sorrowful.

"You know the answer to that, Dopey," he said softly. "Don't you?"

Hope swallowed and nodded, looking down at the floor.

"I know it's hard," Teddy said. "It is hard, if Dom has asked you not to, because it feels like a betrayal to a friend. But Hope, if you don't speak out it's possible no one will. And then things will keep getting worse. Dom is clearly suffering, from what you've just said. As her friend you have a duty to do something, especially if no one else knows what's going on."

"I know."

"Talk to Flitwick," Teddy finished. "Or maybe even Izatt, if you feel more comfortable talking to her. She may not be a Head of House but she definitely wouldn't stand for something like this."

Hope nodded again.

"Don't tell Mum and Dad," she added. "Or Victoire. Not yet, anyway. Swear?"

Teddy looked a little awkward but consented. Their brother-sister code was law.

oOo

April

Elodie's behaviour did not improve with the new term, and Hope tried to work up the courage to talk to a teacher about the issue. It wasn't only the thought of Dom's reaction that was making her hesitate, but also the fact that it went against the mantra that the younger Weasleys lived their life by. We do not tell the adults. We do not grass. We do not snitch. It was their golden rule. Even Albus and James, Dom and Victoire, most quarrelsome of siblings, did not break it.

Elodie wasn't a Weasley - far from it - but Hope was still finding it harder than expected to approach an adult about it. And while she delayed, Elodie's attitude was getting worse, and Dom was becoming quieter and more withdrawn.

Hope was dwelling so much on the problem one Friday morning in Defence Against the Dark Arts that she did not hear a word of what Izatt was telling them about The Surge. She was finally shaken out of her reverie by the sound of her own name.

"Hope Lupin! Aare you listening?"

Hope started and looked up at Professor Izatt, who was regarding her with folded arms and a raised eyebrow.

"Yes."

I am now anyway.

"Then perhaps you would be so kind as to answer my question."

Crap.

"Um… could you repeat the question, Professor? Please."

Elodie and Natalie sniggered loudly. Izatt gave her a piercing look.

"I asked what new measures were put in place after The Surge, to try and prevent such events being repeated."

Thankfully, Hope knew this. The benefit of having an Auror for a mother, not to mention one who was friends with the Minister himself. She sat up a little straighter and tried to remember as many details as possible.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt set up the MoMS after The Surge attacks were stopped. That's the Ministry of Magical Security and it's an organisation dedicated to picking up signs of magical crime. The MoMS' job is to detect hints of dark magic and keep tabs on anyone arousing suspicion. And people didn't think it would help at first but now everyone agrees that King – I mean Minister Shacklebolt – did the right thing. Our communities are much safer because of it. Also - setting it up created about two hundred jobs for magical people at a time when employment rates were very low."

"Excellently put," Izatt said, which wiped the jeer from Elodie's face immediately.

Izatt did not say another word about her poor attention span, and with a renewed wave of liking for the teacher, Hope made her decision as the bell signalled the end of class.

"Everything OK, Hope?" Izatt said, noticing her reluctance to follow her classmates on to their History of Magic lesson. "You seemed distracted today."

"Yes," Hope said. "Yes, I'm OK. I – I wondered if I could...talk to you about something."

"Of course."

Haltingly, Hope did her best to explain about Elodie's unkind behaviour towards Dom, that it was getting worse and that she was worried about her friend. She found that although she had prepared what she was going to say in her head, it was a lot more difficult saying it all out loud. Izatt responded calmly, asked a few follow-up questions, and by the end of the conversation, she was looking grim.

"Thank you for coming to me," she said at last. "I will take this forward."

As she left the classroom, Hope tried to convince herself that she had done the right thing, but she did not feel good at all. She also didn't think she had done an adequate job of explaining the extent of Elodie's vile attitude, the cruelty behind her comments, the way she ensured no one else was in earshot when making them, the way she had a knack for choosing words that tore through Dom's brave face and hit her where it hurt most.

Dom was nowhere to be seen at lunchtime, and when Hope asked Roxanne, her other friend, unconcerned, said she'd been asked to stay behind and speak to Flitwick about her homework. At the end of their own Charms class, Flitwick called on Elodie to stay behind for the same reason. Hope's stomach churned as they filed out. This was definitely nothing to do with homework.

She couldn't find Dom anywhere in the grounds after classes, and in the end made her way back up to the Ravenclaw tower, catching a glimpse of a mane of bright red hair as she rounded the last staircase. Her friend was alone.

"Dom!"

Dom wheeled round to face her. She was pale and, for the first time in Hope's memory, did not look pleased to see her.

"Was it you who told Flitwick?" she demanded, as Hope reached her.

Hope knew her expression would give away the truth.

"I just-"

"Hope, I told you not to say anything."

"I was trying to help you."

"But I asked you not to. Now all you've done is make everything worse."

"But Dom-"

Right on cue, Elodie stalked past, Natalie and Marion in tow.

"Thought you'd go blabbing, did you Domfreak?" she said acidly. "You'll regret it, you know."

Dom turned a tortured face to Hope as the three of them continued upstairs, Elodie with her nose in the air, Natalie smirking and Marion looking down at her feet.

"You see."

"Dom-"

"Just... please leave me alone for a bit." Dom hurried off up the stairs.

"Dom, wait!"

But Dom had already disappeared through the entrance to Ravenclaw tower by the time Hope got to the top of the stairs. The door swung shut behind her.

Hope raised her hand to the eagle shaped knocker. The familiar voice spoke at once.

"I have ten or more daughters. I have fewer than ten daughters. I have at least one daughter. If only one of these statements is true, how many daughters do I have?"

Hope frowned at the knocker.

"What?"

The knocker repeated its question.

Why can't we just have a password like everyone else? Hope thought irritably. Ravenclaws were already known for being smart arses, they shouldn't have to prove it every time they wanted to go to bed. She was terrible at answering these anyway, and right now her head was too jumbled to think properly.

"Ten?"

Nothing happened.

"OK, one?"

The door stayed shut.

"Two? I can go on like this for a while you know. Three? Four?"

"Hope?"

Cal appeared behind her as she reached twenty, apparently amused.

"You OK?"

"Oh yes, I'm practising my counting skills. In case I want a job at Gringott's... you know."

Cal laughed, but kindly. It did not, at least, feel like he was laughing at her.

"Need some help?"

She did not reply and Cal raised his own hand and knocked on the door.

"I have ten or more daughters. I have fewer than ten daughters. I have at least one daughter. If only one of these statements is true, how many daughters do I have?"

"I've counted to twenty," Hope grumbled. "And it's not any of them."

"Have you tried zero?"

Hope sighed as the door swung open as soon as the word left his mouth. Cal was lovely and she appreciated his help, but why did she always have to feel like the dunce of the house?

"It's a stupid question, don't worry," Cal said, seeing her face. "I hardly got any right in my first few years but eventually the same ones come round again, and then you know them all."

Hope did not believe this for a second, given that Cal was a prefect and top of his year, but she appreciated him trying to cheer her up.

"Have you seen Dom?" he added, looking around the common room. "I want to ask her about something."

Hope shrugged sadly. There was not a red head in sight.

It was an unpleasant and lonely weekend. Dom didn't say anything more about Hope staying away from her, but she sat with Roxanne and her Slytherin friends for breakfast on the Saturday, and Hope felt like she didn't really deserve to join them if she had indeed aggravated the situation further. She instead did her best to get through the mountain of homework that she had been putting off since the start of term, greatly hindered by Oompa, who, not impressed at being kept indoors on a bright, sunny day, kept bouncing around, distracting her and smearing ink all over her work. In the end, Hope gave up completely and curled up in an armchair with a book.

On the Sunday evening Dom came and found her.

"I'm sorry I got annoyed," she said. "And I didn't mean for you to be by yourself this weekend, honestly. You could have stuck with us. I appreciate you looking out for me, but I truly don't believe it's helped, Hope. Elodie got a talking to and a couple of detentions - Rox heard Kirstin telling her friend about it. That's not going to stop her being mean, and if anything she'll get worse."

Hope had a feeling there was something missing here.

"But – but didn't they talk to you? Flitwick, I mean," she added hurriedly. She didn't want Dom to know that more teachers were involved in this. "Didn't Flitwick ask you if there was a problem?"

Dom looked shifty and stared down at her feet.

"He did, didn't he?"

"He - he did ask to see me… and asked if anyone was - was being unkind. I said Elodie had said a few things," she admitted. "But that- that it was no worse than anyone else, and I was used to it."

"Dom! She is ten times worse than other people. And you shouldn't be used to it."

Dom would not meet her eye.

"What did he say?"

"He said I should always report it if something is wrong, however mild I believe it to be."

"Well then-"

"It won't help. It hasn't helped now and it won't in future. How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Maybe it would help if you were honest about it how bad it really is."

"Hope, leave it. Please leave it. I can handle it."

In total despair, Hope let the matter drop yet again.

oOo

May

Dom was proved right about Elodie getting worse. Her comments became crueller and increased in frequency. And with this, her nagging worries about Greyback, her poor performance in some of her classes, the unseasonably wet weather that was impacting their quidditch practice, Hope was not enjoying her summer term at Hogwarts at all.

As if she wasn't having enough trouble keeping him out of her mind, the subject of Greyback came up in one of their Defence Against the Dark Arts class.

"Professor?" Alice Johns, one of the Gryffindor girls, put up her hand towards the end of class. "Can you tell us about Fenrir Greyback?"

A stiff silence fell over the classroom.

Izatt cast the very briefest of glances towards Hope before replying. Hope, as usual, had forced a mask of impassivity to conceal her inner turmoil.

"Fenrir Greyback," the teacher repeated slowly. "What exactly do you want to know?"

"Well, my brother says he's being released from prison, even though he committed crimes in the war, and I -"

"There is no guarantee that he is being released from prison," Izatt said at once, her tone calm. "He has been allowed to appeal his sentence. That is a very different matter. Most appeals since the war have not resulted in the release of the prisoner."

"Yes," Alice persisted. "But I was wondering why they would even let him appeal in the first place. He killed people."

And maimed their lives forever. Hope finished the sentence in her head.

Izatt considered the question carefully before replying.

"The appeal process was brought in not long after the war," she explained. "Because the Minister believed - and I have to say I agree with him - that sometimes, even the most apparently clear cut of cases are not always as they seem. The Minister knew personally of a case like this. Have you heard of Sirius Black?"

Hope felt a jolt of surprise but Alice was shaking her head. Izatt continued.

"Sirius Black was an innocent man who was sent to Azkaban without a trial at the end of the first war. His case, on the face of it, could not have been clearer. But in reality he was framed for the mass murder he was convicted of. He was in Azkaban for thirteen years before managing to escape, but he tragically died in battle two years later. His innocence was only discovered by the Ministry after his death. Had it been proven before, it may have spared his life."

Hope wondered if Izatt knew how closely Sirius's life had been bound with her father's, her mother's. She was even related to him herself, though distantly. Second cousin once removed. Or first cousin twice removed. Something like that. Family ties were confusing.

But Sirius, from everything she had heard about him, had been a great man. How could he be compared to someone as evil and vile as Greyback?

As if reading her thoughts, Izatt continued.

"Now, I'm not for a second claiming that Greyback is an innocent man. I am merely emphasising that sometimes it is necessary to re-examine the facts, to take other details into account. And as I said, it is extremely rare for anyone to win an appeal. In fact, it has only happened once since the law was introduced, and that was on medical grounds. The individual was gravely ill and it was deemed appropriate that they be released from Azkaban to receive treatment. The appeals process is long, thorough and fair. We have to trust that whatever happens at the trial, and whatever evidence is presented, the jury will make the right choice in the end."

And what if they don't?

Hope's brain screamed the question, but she was far too proud to ask it out loud. Everyone else seemed satisfied by Izatt's speech, and the atmosphere was cheerful as the bell sounded and they started packing away their books.

Hope had a feeling that Izatt was watching her, but she feigned obliviousness and followed her classmates into the corridor, the dead, cold, sick feeling very much reawakened in the pit of her stomach.

oOo

June

The weather improved eventually, giving way to perfect quidditch conditions, and even Hope's fears about Greyback could not eclipse the joy of Ravenclaw finally winning the quidditch cup, clinching it with a spectacular victory over Gryffindor - five hundred points to two hundred and ten. The party in their common room, while tamer than Hufflepuff's had been the previous year - they were Ravenclaws after all - lasted well into the early hours of the morning.

Hope was on the lookout for Elodie all evening, and subtly moved away, taking Dom with her, every time it looked like she might be coming near them. She was not going to let her spoil their victory this time around. Cal and several of their teammates seemed to be of similar mind, and Dom, basking in the glory of being the highest scoring chaser of the game, appeared to have a wonderful time. Nevertheless, it was a relief to see Elodie disappearing up to her dormitory at one o'clock in the morning.

"Great, now you can relax a bit," Dom said, noticing as Hope watched her depart. "I know you've been moving me away from her all night."

Hope grinned sheepishly.

"I appreciate it," Dom said. "But honestly, I don't think anything could have ruined tonight. We won, Hope! We won the cup! Even Elodie can't spoil the end of the year after this."

Hope smiled at her friend's positive attitude. Internally, she wasn't so sure.

O

The following Sunday evening, Elodie came flouncing down the stairs from the dormitory and made towards Natalie and Marion, her eyes glinting as she noticed Hope and Dom sitting near them.

"Do you like my new skirt?" she asked the other two girls, spinning round. The skirt glowed in dazzling light show as she twirled.

"It's great!" Natalie said, while Marion nodded obediently. "Is that the one you ordered from Wizos?"

"Yep," Elodie said. "It came this morning." She raised her voice slightly. "I feel so lucky that I can look good in women's clothing, you know."

Dom stared determinedly down at the cards in her hand and took her turn, but Hope looked around to see who else was in the room. There was hardly anyone around. Alec Peters and Andrew Garswitch were laughing together in the corner, well out of earshot. Cal was absorbed in book at a desk by the window, clearly doing some practical homework, wand aloft. Most other Ravenclaws were in their dormitories, or in the reading room studying for exams. Marion got up and mumbled something about going to the bathroom, as she always did when Elodie started being unkind.

"Don't you think it's nice?" Elodie came and stood right next to Dom. "It's from the witch's section of the catalogue though, I'm afraid."

"Go away Elodie," Dom said. "Can't you leave me alone, for once? I don't do anything to you."

Elodie narrowed her eyes. "You exist," she said coldly.

Hope's arm jerked involuntarily and the cards in her hands went flying everywhere.

"What do you think, Hopeless?" Elodie asked, spinning round again before she could say anything. "Don't you like it? I'll lend it to you if you like – it might look OK on you, given that you can fit into any item of clothing you like."

Hope wasn't sure where this was going but she was certain it was nowhere good. Elodie did not pay her compliments. She didn't pay compliments to anyone, not even her so called best friends.

"It's such a shame," Elodie went on, still in her loud, pointed tone. "Such a shame that we don't all have your clever morphing gift, isn't it. Some of us would probably find it so useful."

Of course.

"Shut up Elodie," she said in a low voice.

"I'm just saying," Elodie's mouth twisted maliciously. "It would be so nice for some of us. We could make things bigger. Make things smaller."

"I said, shut up."

"…Make some things disappear altogether."

Dom jumped up and fled the room, her eyes full of tears, unable to bear it any longer.

Hope stood up too and glared at Elodie, whipping her wand out and pointing it in her face.

"I'll get you back for this," she snarled. "You won't get away with this for ever, you hateful little cow. I'll make sure of-"

"Girls!"

Hope looked up to see Cal watching them, an expression of irritation on his chiselled features. "People are trying to study," he said shortly. "Hope, put that away, you know the rules."

Hope knew a surge of annoyance for the boy she was usually so fond of, as she stowed her wand back in her robes and began clearing up the cards now scattered over the table and the floor. There was a giant study room if you wanted to work. And why hadn't he stepped in ten minutes earlier? Was Dom right? Was everyone going to ignore this completely and pretend it wasn't an issue?

O

Hope did not see Dom the next morning. She was not at breakfast and did not come into the common room at all. Hope agonised about what to do. She should tell someone, properly tell them what was going on. Everyone would think so. Her parents. Teddy. Her godparents. She tried to imagine Bill and Fleur's sadness and dismay if they knew how their daughter was being treated. This was far beyond the point of acceptable or ignorable now.

She wondered if she should ask Roxanne for advice. But that felt like a betrayal in itself, when Roxanne was Dom's closest friend. Roxanne already made sure that no one dared say anything to Dom when they were outside their common room. It should be her own job – Hope felt – to make sure Dom was OK when the others weren't around. And she was failing miserably. She also had a feeling that Roxanne's immediate reaction would be to summon her Slytherin gang and punch Elodie into a piece of pulp. Much as that would bring Hope savage pleasure, making Elodie a victim was surely not going to do them any favours right now.

She supposed she would have to go and see Professor Flitwick after class, make it very clear that it was not "a few comments," as Dom had implied, hope that Elodie didn't get away with it for a second time and that Dom didn't stay too angry at her.

Hope was dwelling on the problem in Transfiguration, the hairbrush she was supposed to be transforming into a hedgehog lying motionless on her desk, when a seventh year Hufflepuff prefect put their head round the door.

"Please could Elodie Carmichael go and see Professor Flitwick?"

A large "Oooooohhh" went round the class. Probably led by Alec Peters, Hope thought irritably. He had the mental age of a four-year-old.

"Settle down," Professor Calvert sighed. "Of you go Miss Carmichael. Leave your belongings and come back when you're done."

Elodie did not return before the end of class, and it was Marion and Natalie who ended up packing her stuff away. Hope wondered about it as she headed up to the common room that lunchtime. Could Dom have told Flitwick about Elodie, finally? She was deep in thought when she heard an excitable squeal from a nearby portrait.

"Miss Hope!"

Hope turned in surprise.

"Dobby!"

The painting was her absolute favourite in the whole castle. She loved this picture, the backdrop of which showed a field of deer grazing peacefully against a bright blue sky, with a white snowy owl perched on the antlers of a majestic stag. She knew it had been painted by Luna Lovegood and enchanted by Hermione not long after the war. A copy of it hung in the Potters' sitting room, but its original, Harry had insisted, should remain in the Hogwarts castle, a memento to one of the smallest but greatest heroes of the second war. Its main inhabitant spent most of the term time down in the kitchens chattering away to his old work companions, or else making friends in other paintings around the school. He did pop back over to his other portrait to chat to his hero from time to time, but he was rarely in his own painting on this staircase.

"I don't normally see you here!"

"I was looking out for you, Miss." The elf grinned up at her.

"Me?" Hope said curiously. "Why were you looking out for me?"

"Because I is seeing you Miss, earlier, when I is visiting the Feast of the Five Hundred in Professor Flitwick's office."

"You saw me?" Hope was flummoxed.

"Yes Miss. Not at first, but I is in there and a girl is coming to see Flitwick. That girl you is not liking at all."

"Elodie?" Hope said. "Wait! You were there when Elodie was summoned to see Flitwick?"

What a stroke of luck. Probably the only one who would be willing to tell me what happened and he was right there.

Dobby nodded, his oil paint ears flapping. "She is in biggg trouble, Miss Hope."

"She is?"

"For bullying."

Bullying?

So Dom had told someone.

"What happened Dobby?" she asked urgently. "I know you're not supposed to talk about what you see from other paintings, but it's important. Please tell me."

"Dobby is a free elf Miss, even in a painting," Dobby beamed. Then his huge orb eyes became sombre.

"She comes in and Flitwick is most angry. But he is not shouting, he is asking Elodie if she has anything she is wanting to own up to."

"And – and did she?"

"No Miss. She is saying that she is not knowing what Flitwick is talking about. But he is asking again. He is asking her to be truthful, and saying that there is evidence that she is been unkind, that she is been bullying. But Elodie is saying that is all rubbish, that people is making it up because they is not liking her. That she is the one being bullied. And then-"

Dobby lowered his voice, even though there was no one in the vicinity.

"Flitwick is looking even more angry and he is tapping his wand, and showing her. A ball – a ball that is making a moving picture in the air. And that is when I is seeing you. You and Miss Weezy and nasty Elodie. And she is saying horrible things."

Last night, Hope realised. The dreadful scene in the common room.

"That was last night," she said. "But how did he get that?"

Dobby shook his head earnestly.

"I is not knowing Miss, but he is very angry. He is saying that it is unacceptable, and bullying is never to be tolerated at Hogwarts, and then he is taking her to the Head."

"To Professor Vector?"

"Yes Miss, and of course, I is not allowed up there, but Snidgy is there now, to see if he can find out what is happening."

Snidgy was the tiny golden snidget from a few paintings along, also capable of human speech, who was able to visit the portrait of Brandon Wright, twin brother of Bowman Wright and former headmaster, which hung in the Headmistress's office.

Right on cue, the tiny golden bird came twittering into view.

"She's in serious trouble," he chirped brightly to Dobby. "Vector was furious. Said she would have detention until the end of the year and that if it happened again then she would be expelled. And the curly girl cried a lot but they weren't sympathetic. Said she had been warned already and that she should have thought about other people if she didn't want to feel this way now."

Hope looked round at the sound of other people coming up the stairs towards them.

"Thanks for telling me this, Dobby," she said gratefully, hurrying on her way. "Honest, it's so good to know."

"Goodbye Miss!" Dobby called after her. "I is hoping to be seeing you soon."

Elodie herself came through the entrance to the common room not long after, her face red and blotchy. She rushed straight up to the dormitory.

After half an hour or so Dom came in too and made a beeline for where Hope was sitting. She had dark circles under her eyes, but otherwise appeared happier than she had the day before.

"Flitwick had a long chat with me," she said, without preamble, sitting down next to Hope. "And Vector. They said they understood why I hadn't said anything before, that they knew it was difficult, doubly so because most people can't understand what it's like to be in my position, but that it was so important that I was honest about it, because then they would do everything they could to stop it happening. And they assured me Elodie would be severely punished."

"I'm so glad you told them, in the end," Hope said warmly. Dom stared back at her in confusion.

"I didn't tell them," she said slowly. "I thought you must have done."

Hope shook her head. "I wanted to," she blurted out. "I was thinking about talking to Flitwick after Charms, but I was scared, after what happened last time, and - and anyway, it was only in our second lesson that Elodie got called out."

"So – so who did tell him?"

"I don't know, but it's hardly a secret that she's a nightmare. I guess not everyone is willing to ignore it."

Dom smiled wanly.

"I guess. I'd better go and get my potions stuff."

"Dom! Hope!"

They turned to see their quidditch captain coming towards them.

Cal, Hope realised. Of course it had been Cal. He'd had his wand out, apparently absorbed in his homework. Somehow he'd managed to capture everything. He must have gone to Flitwick first thing that morning. Dom didn't seem to have noticed anything odd and was looking back at him questioningly. But then Dom had been seated with her back to him last night, probably hadn't seen him at all.

"I think I've worked out that new move we were talking about," Cal said, as he reached them. "We can practice it tomorrow night. And," he looked over at Dom. "Flitwick's given me permission to make you Vice Captain for next year. I know that's not the norm, but there's no point pretending that anyone else is going to be captain when I leave. I asked him about it this morning."

"Vice Captain?" Dom's face lit up.

"Yep. It will be great because you can get a chance leading practice and everything, and together we'll train up a full team of reserves so that the main team isn't too shaken up when most of us leave in a year's time."

Dom's eyes were shining. "I can't wait," she said. "I've got to go to class now, but we can chat about it later."

She rushed off. Hope, however, did not move.

"What's up?"

"That's not all you went to Flitwick about, is it?"

Cal looked round to check that Dom was out of earshot.

"No," he admitted. "Is she OK?"

"Seems OK – ish. And Elodie's in big trouble. How did you do it though? The picture of it?"

"You heard about that?"

"Err... sort of," Hope said. She didn't want to get Dobby into trouble. "Was it a spell?"

He nodded. "I know you'd already tried to go to the teachers. But she's a slippery one, and Dom would never have said what was really going on. I wanted there to be evidence. Something that Elodie couldn't pretend hadn't happened. So I used an external memory preserving charm last night, and showed it to Flitwick this morning."

Hope was staring at him in admiration.

"I wish I'd thought of that."

"It's a very advanced spell, Hope," he said kindly. "And you've been trying to stick up for her all term. I wish I'd done more sooner, really I do, but like I said, Elodie's gets her way out of everything. I'm sorry I stopped you smashing her face in last night, too. I would have loved you to, but I thought it might hurt the cause a little."

"Well, if she tries it again I will be smashing her face in," Hope said grimly.

"Save it for the quidditch pitch," Cal advised her. "We're retaining our title next year, Hope. Make no mistake about that."

O

Elodie, it seemed, had finally learnt her lesson, and went nowhere near either of them for the remainder of term. The weather was glorious, and Hope and Dom spent as much time as possible outside, sitting by the lake with Roxanne, going for walks around the grounds, or else down at the quidditch pitch, keeping up their practice while they were still able to train on a full sized pitch. Cal's appointment of Dom as Vice Captain for the next year was met by enthusiasm from the rest of the team, and Dom's confidence began to recover, little by little, each day.

Overall, it was a fabulous end to the year, although saying goodbye to Professor Izatt was a low point.

"It has been an absolute pleasure working with you all, these last two years," she said, after their final lesson. "I have confidence that whoever takes my place will be teaching a fine young group of students, and that you will do them proud, do me proud, and above all, do yourselves proud."

Hope felt sad as she packed her books away. She was pretty sure that no teacher was ever going to be as good as Izatt.

oOo

July

"Pst!" James beckoned to Hope, one summer afternoon when they were round at the Potters'. He was standing near the window of his bedroom, Al right next to him. The window looked out onto the front garden, where the adults were currently sitting together, conversing in low voices. "They're talking about the new defence teacher. I know we're not supposed to know but if they insist on talking about it in extendable earshot, what do they expect? Want to hear?"

Hope scurried over at once and grabbed one of the flesh-coloured strings trailing from the crack in the top window. She heard Harry's voice as she put it in her ear.

"…done a bit of admin work for the Auror office over the years. And she applied when she heard that Professor Izatt was leaving."

"Surely they could have found better than her," Ron moaned.

Hope heard Harry sigh.

"There's almost no demand for the job, even now – after all these years the jinx rumour still holds. She had no competition."

"Our fifth year was a long time ago, remember." Hermione's voice held a note of reprimand. "We were only kids then, and everything's different now."

"Hmpff," was Ron's only reply.

"She's not had an easy time of it, you know," Hermione went on, more sharply. "She lost her mother and her sister in the war, and her partner was killed in The Surge. She hasn't been with anyone since then."

"She might have found someone else by now if you hadn't scarred her face for life," Ron mumbled, but then he amended himself hastily. Hope could imagine Hermione giving him one of her most pointed glares. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that at all. That's awful, poor woman. And you're right. It's not fair to hold a grudge against her for something that happened twenty years ago. It was all Umbridge's fault anyway. Scheming bitch."

"How come Ron is always allowed to say rude words and I'm not?" Hope hissed indignantly.

Harry spoke next.

"I don't care what happened at school, and I feel terrible for what she's been through, but from what I know of her I'm not convinced she's a suitable choice. She's erratic and inconsistent, definitely not a people person and I can't imagine her being good with the students. She isn't even that clued up on the subject itself. And defence is so important. The Auror department has only just recovered its numbers from the years of terrible defence teachers that Hogwarts had for nearly three decades. With exceptions, of course… I still wish you'd applied this time. You'd have got it for certain."

Hope heard her own father speaking.

"I know, Harry. I was tempted, you know I was. But I truly feel that my time at Hogwarts has passed. I'm finally in a job I love, and I would be crazy to give that up now. I would have barely seen Dora at all in the term time, with all her irregular shifts, and I'm not sure Hope would have liked it, despite what she said to the contrary. And there's still the issue of what happened last time. A lot of parents won't have forgotten that, and I can't say I blame them."

"Remus would have been the best teacher ever," Al said sadly. Hope felt a stab of pride as she smiled at him. Yet another thing she would never have admitted out loud, but she secretly loved how much the Weasleys and the Potters adored her mother and father. Because although they were surrogate aunt and uncle to all the family, and godparents to Dom and Lily, only she and Teddy could call them Mum and Dad.

As for whether she wished that Dad had applied for the job himself - she supposed it would all depend on what this mysterious new woman was like.

oOo

September

By the end of the second week of her third year, Hope had made up her mind. She would definitely have preferred to be taught by her own father than by Professor Marietta Edgecombe.

It wasn't that the woman was a bad teacher. Hope wasn't even sure that she agreed with Harry's description of her as inconsistent. Her teaching method was too consistent for Hope's liking. Every lesson was of a very similar format, unlike Izatt's, which had varied from one day to the next. With every new topic they were asked to research the subject in advance and summarise it in one hundred words. A student would then be asked to read theirs out to the class as an introduction. Edgecombe would talk about the subject while they took notes and there would be a class discussion towards the end of the lesson. Every second or third class was a practical one, with different groups of students demonstrating their skills at a time.

Hope had always enjoyed defence classes, and she was still learning. But Edgecombe didn't have Izatt's power to captivate the students' attention with a simple speech. She didn't have the old teacher's steady, no nonsense approach, nor her ability to liven up the duller lessons with amusing comments or fun, unexpected activities. Half the time, she didn't have a handle on the class at all - Roxanne had already recounted with glee the story of Morella Flint having a full on fight with Kirstin Carmichael right under the new professor's nose, without her being able to stop it.

Most bizarrely of all, Edgecombe also seemed to have a problem with Hope herself. Hope had noticed this during the very first lesson, as the teacher took the register, stumbled over the name Hope Lupin, looked towards her with an odd, almost trance-like expression on her face, her cheeks paling slightly. She had held Hope's gaze for the briefest of seconds, before apparently remembering where she was, shaking her head and continuing with the register.

The moment had passed, and Hope wondered if she had imagined it. But throughout that first lesson and those that followed, she became more and more certain that it was not coincidence, and nor was it her imagination. Professor Edgecombe, for whatever reason, did not like her at all.

oOo

December

Edgecombe's attitude continued to baffle Hope as the weeks wore on. On further reflection, it didn't seem to be quite as simple as outright dislike, and a lot of the time the teacher treated her like any other student. Other times, however, Hope was subjected to snappy and irate comments, and a lack of patience and frosty demeanour that she was adamant was directed at her personally, and not at her peers. The odd moods thawed a little towards the middle of term before returning with a vengeance in the run up to the Christmas holidays. Hope, finally seeing what Harry had meant by inconsistent, was thoroughly fed up with her new teacher by the end of term.

"…and I don't think she likes me at all," she finished indignantly, during a Christmas holiday meet up with the Potters, Ron and Hermione, as they sat waiting for Harry and Tonks to get off shift before they ate dinner. Ron had asked about defence lessons and Hope had wasted no time in giving her opinion on the new teacher.

"Do you behave in her classes?" The question was from Hermione, naturally.

"Of course I behave."

Remus coughed but didn't say anything else.

"I do!" She scowled at her father. "As much as anyone else does, anyway. She treats me differently. Really weird and - and... I can't explain it. But she definitely has a problem with me."

Remus smiled patiently.

"I remember her vaguely from when I taught at Hogwarts," he said. "She wasn't the friendliest of students, either. I doubt it's anything personal, Hope. She is probably the same with everyone. It's human nature to take more notice of someone's attitude when it's directed at oneself."

Hope was not convinced.

"But she tells me off more than other people. And sometimes I say perfectly normal things and she gets all weird and snappy with me."

"I wouldn't expect her to like anyone related to the Weasleys," Ron chortled.

"I'm not even an official Weasley."

"You look like one though," Albus said. "Actually, you kind of look like Edgecombe a bit, when you wear your hair like that. Except you're much prettier than she is, obviously," he added quickly, as Hope looked rather put out.

James sniggered. "Al fancies Hooppe. Al fancies Hooppe."

"I don't fancy Hope!" Albus sounded furious. "I don't. Mum!"

Ginny sighed heavily.

"James, for goodness sake, act your age."

"Al is right though," Ron said thoughtfully, looking over at Hope, as James's taunts subsided. "You do look a bit similar when you have your hair all red and curly, especially to how she was when she was at school with us. Maybe she's jealous that you can change your appearance, look however you want, never have any spots or scars..."

"Why would she be jealous of that?"

Hermione, however, had gone very pink and forcefully changed the subject. Hope remembered Ron saying something in the conversation she shouldn't have heard about Hermione scarring Edgecombe's face. There was a story there somewhere, but she knew better than to ask about that.

oOo

January

It was the Sunday before going back to school for the second term that the news came. Teddy was in France with Victoire's family, Remus and Tonks were discussing some article from the Daily Prophet and Hope was sitting reading a book by the fire, when it turned bright green and Harry stumbled out of it, still in his work robes and looking serious.

"What's up?" Tonks said urgently, already on her feet. "Do I need to come in?"

"No," Harry said at once. "Not at all. Sorry I didn't give you warning I was coming. I have to get back in a minute. I just… I have some news, and I wanted to tell you in person. You-" he looked at her gently, "you might want to sit back down."

His face was sad, apologetic, his eyes on Remus in particular. He glanced quickly at Hope as well, but did not ask her to leave the room. Then he took a deep breath.

"Fenrir Greyback won his appeal."

A lead weight dropped into Hope's stomach. Harry's voice was suddenly coming from very far away.

"It was close," Harry said. His tone was harsh. "Very close. But the new werewolf protection rules swung it for him in the end, and they agreed he should be given a second chance at a normal life. Hermione is livid, as you can imagine. She didn't spend years campaigning for those rights only for them to get Greyback off the hook, not when he's responsible for ten percent of werewolves alive in Britain today. He'll be on parole, closely monitored and they'll supply him with wolfsbane. But he did win, and they'll be deciding on his release date next week. I-" his voice caught a little as he looked at Remus, who was staring blankly into the now dying embers of the fire. "I'm so sorry."

OOO