Tinuvial had no way of knowing it, but her window was being watched that evening as she floated, lost, in a reverie of happier times. The large black dog she had often seen hanging around outside, the one that did not, apparently, belong to Hagrid, stood guard in the forest, his black eyes fixed firmly on where her room was.
He did not move a muscle until he saw the tall witch pass by the window. He leaned forward, as though that small
movement could garner him a better look.
She looked, to his keen eyes, pensive and, ultimately, sad and lonely.
As the shadows grew deeper, the shaggy black dog changed into a tall,
dark-haired man, sitting alone in the trees.
Sirius Black had not a clue how long he had lurked around the edges of
Hogwarts, always shadowing Tinuvial, standing guard over any bit of threat to
her. Even after all these years,
especially the ones in Azkaban, the sight of her was still as enthralling to
him as it was when they were younger.
For years he had toiled in his misplaced guilt, blaming himself for James and
Lily's deaths and agonizing over whether Tinuvial, too, hated him as much as he
hated himself. The thought was
torturous, yet (in his mind) a fitting punishment for what he did in allowing
Wormtail to take charge of their secret.
And when he thought she was dead… the memory of that moment of news made him
shudder. The dementors nearly overtook
him that night. The only thing that
kept him sane for those days was the thought that now she was dead, she knew
the truth. Did she know now, then? Surely Dumbledore told her.
The sound of footsteps in the distant made him start suddenly and change back into the innocuous black dog. He knew he had to be more careful now that the students were back. Harry and his friends would surely recognize him right away…the thought of his godson put a wolfish smile on the dog's face. So like Prongs it was almost frightening.
The grin turned a little evil when he considered Snape. The greasy git was so disturbed by the little "presents" and reminders Sirius had been leaving him, although it irritated him to no end when Snape accused Tinuvial of it. Of course she didn't do it! Sirius, however, was not as forgiving and just didn't like the man. Actually, it ran a little deeper than it. It was closer to the truth to say that he detested Snape. Especially the way he seemed to move a little closer to her everyday. Why did she trust him? She had no reason. Severus Snape and their "friendship" had caused her nothing but grief as far as he knew.
It was time to leave. He had been gone
for a while now, he was sure. As much
as he wanted to see her, the thought of a warm bed was inviting. He would leave Hogwarts, then Disapparate to
Remus's home. He gave her window one final, longing look and ran away.
***
Remus Lupin watched mildly as Sirius ate madly about three
hours later. "You're going to get
caught on the grounds eventually," he said in a neutral tone.
"No I won't," Sirius said, absolutely ravenous. He tended to not eat when traveling as a dog. Rats were not that tasty and it was hard to
cook with four paws.
"Dumbledore probably already knows you're there."
"Probably."
Remus sighed. He could understand why
Sirius sneaked onto Hogwarts. He, too,
missed Tinuvial horribly- she had been so warm and kind when they were younger
and when he thought she was dead, he was absolutely devastated. However, it was trickier for him. It was easy to lose control during the full
moon. He also wanted to see Harry and
the rest of the students, too. He
didn't realize how attached he had become to all of them, even some of the
Slytherins. But only some.
Sirius put down his plate.
"You should see her now," he said softly, his eyes going distant. "There's something different about her… she
still looks the same, but older, now, and wiser."
"She had a rough time," Remus said dryly.
"I wonder why she'd look a little older." He glanced ruefully in the
mirror at his graying brown hair. Rough
times…he understood entirely. He was
worried, though, about Sirius. He was
still obviously thinking that Tinuvial would be the same as she was when she
was seventeen and eighteen. He knew
that she and Sirius had been going together then. He hadn't been entirely happy (he felt she was much too young
then…she always brought out the protective older brother in him, especially
after Tobias died), but knew that Sirius would never hurt her.
But she had to have changed since then.
He saw her once after the funeral of James and Lily and was shocked by
the transformation. Her features had
been bleak and sharp, her eyes dead.
Nothing would stand in her way, she was quite nearly as feared as
Mad-Eye Moody before she disappeared.
Deep down, Remus knew that there was no possible way for her to have not
changed.
"Is everything else alright at Hogwarts?" he asked Sirius.
He nodded. "It seems to be. Harry is in good health, and so are Ron and
Hermione. I'm tempted to meet them at
Hogsmeade again at their next visit."
Remus sighed again. "It's the waiting
that's driving me mad. On one hand, I
want to know what's going to happen, because you know that something
will happen this year. I can feel
it." The other man nodded, his face darkening.
"I can't help but feel that we're going to be completely blind again when it
happens," Sirius said slowly. "Last
term, what happened then…" he winced as if a sudden pain had cut through him. "I should have known that something
like that would happen." It was obvious
that he blamed himself. "It was right
in front of us the entire time. Barty
Crouch, just planning away under our noses.
It's amazing how lucky we were, though."
Remus nodded, saddened. "I knew Cedric
Diggory fairly well. I couldn't believe
it, but…" the horrible, cold, cruel
words they were both thinking stayed unspoken.
…at least it wasn't Harry.
Sirius looked away, suddenly fascinated by a hanging on the wall, and Remus
looked to the fire. The threat- the
always-present malevolence of Voldemort was hanging over their heads once
again. And those they cared about were
probably right in the middle of the danger once more.
***
Defense Against the Dark Arts was definitely a popular class
for all the students. They found Professor
Elarith to be as warm and understanding as Professor Lupin and she knew what
she was talking about. Only Draco
Malfoy and the Slytherins had negative things to say about her.
"A woman!" he had said scornfully one day, leaving the class. "Why should I listen to anything she
has to say?" It was a weak complaint
and he knew it.
"Because I control your marks for this class, Mr. Malfoy," a voice said pleasantly from behind him. "I would advise that you do listen to what I say (and listen well). Your parents wouldn't be pleased if you failed the class, now would they?" The threat was hidden in a layer of kind words. She smiled sweetly at him, one eyebrow cocked as if ready for battle. He glowered at her (Crabbe and Goyle followed suit) and stalked from the room.
But apart from Malfoy and his gang, everyone liked the young witch, especially
the Gryffindors, due to the fact that she had been one. Yet Harry was still bothered by her. Why did she look so bloody familiar?
"Maybe you've seen her picture somewhere before," Hermione suggested.
"Or at Hogsmeade," Ron added. "Who
knows, you get all types there."
Harry merely shrugged. "I'm almost
positive I've seen her before."
"You could ask Dumbledore," Hermione said.
"Maybe he could help."
Harry agreed, but knew that he would feel foolish asking the Headmaster
something like that. It was such a
small thing and it was just a feeling he had. So, one day, he stayed after
class, telling Ron and Hermione that he just had to ask her a few questions
about the assignment. For some reason,
he didn't want anyone else to know that he was this curious about who she was.
When the classroom was emptied, he approached her desk with some
trepidation. "Er…Professor
Elarith?" She looked up and smiled.
"Hello, Harry. Something I can help you
with?"
He stared at her. Something had just
occurred to him. "Never mind," he said
quickly. "Sorry to bother you." He gathered his books and ran quickly from
the classroom, leaving her to stare after him.
His blood pounded in his ears as he darted up the stone steps to
Gryffindor. He knew where he'd seen her
before…her smile, he remembered seeing that before.
"Lemon drops!" he gasped to the Fat Lady, whose portrait swung open. Ignoring everyone else in the common room,
he ran to his dorm.
Luckily, it was empty. He threw his bag and books down on the floor and reached under his bed, pulling out one of his most treasured items: the photo album Hagrid had given him at the end of his First Year.
He flipped through the pages; for once, ignoring all the ones that showed only
his parents. Then, he stopped suddenly
and stared intently.
It was his parent's wedding picture.
There they stood in the center of the happy people, laughing and smiling
at each other. He saw Sirius standing
beside his father. And beside his
mother…
He studied the woman standing beside her. She was very young, perhaps only a few years
older than Harry himself was now, and she was laughing and smiling along with
the rest of them. Her face was not so
pale, nor so weary, but it was unmistakably Professor Elarith.
His heart thudded. She had known his
parents and, apparently, very well. Had
been in their wedding… without thinking, he scooped up the book and ran from
the tower.
Praying he didn't run into Filch or Snape and get in trouble for running, he
darted through the halls and to her classroom.
The door was still open and she still sat at her desk. She heard him approach and looked up,
startled.
"Harry? Is something wrong?" she asked
in concerned.
He shook his head, rather winded. He
carried the book to the desk and handed it to her. Frowning slightly, she took it.
He heard her catch her breath slightly.
An amazing transformation had taken place on her features. She had a tender look on her face when she
saw the picture. "Where did you get
this?" she asked quietly.
"Hagrid. Years ago."
She ran a finger just over the moving picture, a pensive look on her face. When she looked up, Harry was not very
surprised to see she had tears in her eyes.
"How well did you know them?" Harry asked softly, suddenly nervous.
She smiled…tried to smile. "Very well.
Your mother was like a sister to me…your father was as protective as
my…as a brother would be." She let out
a shaky breath. "I was her maid of
honor. She helped me through a very
difficult time in my life. Her and your
father…and Sirius and Remus…"
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, unable to believe that he had found yet
another link to his parents.
"What would I say, Harry?" she asked in a reasonable tone. "That I knew them?"
"That you were friends with them!"
She hesitated and glanced out the window.
"Some things," she said slowly, "are harder to say than you think. You may think words are just words that can
do no harm, but to say something like that aloud…Harry, it's very hard. When I remember them, I remember wonderful
times, but I also remember when they died and what happened to us all." She looked at him. Harry had always thought her eyes were a gray-ish blue, but now
they were a luminous violet. "But maybe
I should have told you. Or is it better
this way? You've known me now for
nearly two months and, I hope, you like me.
What would have happened if I told you right away that I was a close
friend to your parents? That I'm your…"
she choked up suddenly.
"You're my what?" he asked, leaning forward.
She let out a shaky breath.
"Harry, I'm your godmother."
He simply stared at her. "You're my…my godmother?" She didn't reply, but he looked deeply into
her wise eyes. And he realized what she
had just said.
He had known for a few years that Sirius had been his godfather, but it never
occurred to him that he, perhaps, had a godmother as well. It would only make sense and he realized
that he should have thought of it. He
looked at her in a new light now. The
professor-like exterior was stripped away and he saw only the friend of his
parents…his godmother. Without
thinking, he threw his arms around her.
She started slightly when he hugged her, but after a split-second, she was
returning it as fiercely as he gave it.
Great Morgan le Fay… so this is what it's like, she thought
deliriously. It felt so right, so
natural that she be embracing the son of some of her greatest friends. A hole that she had not even been aware of
inside filled up. And Harry, too, felt
the same way.
Neither knew how long they stood like that.
Luckily, no one walked by the classroom. Then, awkwardly, they parted.
"Where were you for so long?" he asked.
"Were you sick like you told us, or was something else wrong?"
Her eyes went bleak. "Both." She looked at the door and murmured a word,
closing it effectively. "What I'm about
to tell you goes no further," she said intently. "You can tell Ron and Hermione that I'm your godmother, if you
wish, but only them and only that."
The intensity in her tone startled him.
She sighed and looked down. "I'm not
entirely human, Harry. My mother was
part Fairy…not the little pixies and piskies you can see in the forest, but real,
High Fairy. I'm slightly more than a
third. It's hard to tell on me, but my
eyes, for example. My height and…" she
brushed her hair back off her face and turned her head. Harry was somewhat surprised to see that her
ears were slightly elongated on top and pointed. It wasn't especially noticeable, but it gave her a strangely
exotic look.
"My parents were both Aurors. In fact,
Alaster Moody was practically an uncle to me, as much as I saw him. Voldemort killed them when I was in my early
years of Hogwarts. You see, there's
this old, impossible legend about Fairy blood…that's it's especially powerful…"
her tone was scornful. "All nonsense,
of course, but Voldemort believed anything that could give him more power."
"I had a brother. Tobias. Voldemort killed him and tried to turn me to
his side." Her voice went flat and her eyes steely. "I saw him die. I could
not do anything. I was very bitter and
vengeful…still am. Your parents helped
me through all of that. Then when they
died…" she looked at him. "Harry, I
know you've been filled with anger before…it would be impossible for you to
have not been. But the depth of
my hate and fury, it terrified me. So I
became an Auror."
"After a year or two, I found myself cornered by three Dark Wizards and they,
together, put the Cruciatus Curse on me.
Something about their combined spells and Voldemort's influence
perverted the curse even more." She
began to shake slightly just at the thought. "The only way for it to have been
removed was for all three of the wizards to die. The last one was Barty Crouch, Jr. He died a month after the Dementor's Kiss."
"The only reason I lived was because I'm part Fairy and was taken to my
mother's people. That's the only reason
I'm here now."
They held an intense eye contact for several moments before Harry broke
it. He remembered when Voldemort had
put the Cruciatus on him last year…it couldn't have been more than ten
seconds… but he would honestly rather die than feel that terrible pain
again.
She stood up abruptly. "Please don't tell
anyone about what I just told you," she said. "There's almost as big a stigma to Faeries as there are to
werewolves, even though I'm not full-blooded.
They aren't always nice, you see." She smiled wryly. "Maybe that's
why I can be so violent." She glanced
at Harry.
"There's something else, too, that I think I can tell you." She moved a little closer to him. "I know you don't like Sev…Professor
Snape much, but he's not what you think he is. He was there when Tobias died…in fact, he held me back from
running in front of Tobias before Voldemort killed him. And he helped me before…" her eyes clouded
over, reflecting the grayness of the sky.
"I'd rather not say what happened, but he saved me then, from something
terrible. He was my friend, Harry. And he still is. Sirius and the others, but especially Sirius, never understood
it. They thought he was just a nasty,
bitter person. Let's be honest, he isn't the warmest of people and can be nasty
and is, in fact, very bitter, but not for why most people think. Life wasn't kind to him, either." She looked at him. "So please, just keep that in mind. I know he doesn't make it easy…believe me, my patience is often
stretched with him. But evil he's not."
"But do you trust him?" Harry asked impulsively. It was very important to him.
"Yes," she said without hesitation. "I trust
Severus Snape as much as I can trust anyone."
