Chapter Five: The Good, The Bad, and Malfoy
Remus thought that because of the night's events, he would not be able to sleep a wink. As his head hit his pillow, he fell asleep with these thoughts. He woke early the next morning to find thet couch set back up again, and a note on the kitchen table. He sat down with a cup of tea to read it:
Dad,
Thanks so much for allowing me to stay the night in your quarters. It was more than needed. I really appreciate what you did for me, and I do intend to repay you. This whole situation will most likely be beyond awkward, but I would much rather this be awkward for years and years of our lives than to never meet my father. I suppose I'm getting a bit sappy, now -- Remus couldn't help but smile at this -- but what do you expect from a writer? I hope you enjoy the tea I made. It's not much, but it's a start, I suppose. By the way, I am sorry, but I had to take back a couple of my sketches. I leave you with the one of the lone wolf, as it contains so much meaning. At least - it does for me. Deeply indebted,
Wren.
Remus smiled and pocketed the note. He hurried down to breakfast, hoping to brag to some of the professors -- or to anyone that would listen, really.
"You see that, Sirius? She's an artist and a writer," Remus said in a low voice to the bear-like dog laying on the floor next to him. "All you've got is that old house of your mother's," Remus teased. Sirius gave a low growl, but he had a gleam in his eyes as if to say "All I have to do is pull, and you'll be standing pantless." Remus noticed Hagrid sitting down at the professors' table. He stood up. "Hagrid! Hey, Hagrid, look at this!" Remus shuffled over a couple of seats to where Hagrid sat. "Wren is back, you know," he said, sitting down next to him. "Is she? Tha's good. When'd she get here?" Hagrid said, yawning widely. Remus's face lit up. He could tell this story over and over. "At around three-thirty in the morning, Hagrid. She came to my quarters because she couldn't get into the common room. And you know what? She knew that I was her dad! She just wanted to know if I knew and what I was like! Isn't that amazing, Hagrid? She did the exact same thing I was doing!" he said happily. Hagrid yawned again. "Wow, Remus, that is amazin'." He paused again to yawn. "And you know what else? When she first got here, I bet that whole thing was just an act, to make sure she could trust us. And I think she did because she dropped the act right away, didn't she?" Remus rambled on. "Fascinatin'," Hagrid mumbled as he poured himself a cup of tea. A few seats down, Remus heard the headmaster's laughing. Dumbledore was peering at Remus out of the corner of his eye and was laughing. Remus looked at him and smiled slightly. "Are you laughing at me, Headmaster?" he asked. "No, no, not at all," Dumbledore said, trying to keep himself from laughing. "You probably think I'm a loon, don't you?" Remus asked. "Well, if Professor Dumbledore doesn't, then I do," Hagrid said, smirking slightly.
Remus glared.
"Wren, you look terrible. Didn't you get any sleep yesterday?" Hermione asked, playing with one of Wren's dog ears, which she hadn't even tried to hide beneath her hair. "I fell asleep around three-thirty then got up at around six," Wren said, yawning widely. "Ooh, Wren, your ears are so soft. You know, this really is amazing. The fact that you have dog ears and you can actually hear out of them. I wonder what kind of spell You-Know-Who used. I just can't think of any," Hermione said, all the while rubbing one of Wren's ears in contemplation. "Er -- yeah. I've been wondering about that too, Hermione." She didn't want to lie to them, but she just didn't think that this was a very good time to tell her new friends about her parentage. "You mean you don't remember? Did he do this to you a long time ago?" Hermione asked curiously. "Yes. I think it was when I was just a baby," Wren lied. Hermione looked at her piteously. "That must have hurt you terribly when it happened," she said, releasing her ears. Harry then noticed that Ron had his head on the table. "What's wrong with you, Ron?" "Died," mumbled Ron as he forced his head up. "You look really bad, Ron," Hermione said, a concerned look on her face. "Thanks, Hermione, that's just what I needed," shot Ron. "No. He's not ill. He's just grumpy," Wren said. "I feel bloody awful," Ron griped, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. "Well, now, that is very convenient, Ron, because you're sick, I'm tired beyond belief, and I happen to know an awful lot about remedies. I got permission from Dumbledore to spent the day sleeping, but I can spend a few hours of my well-deserved beauty sleep tending to you. I'd feel bad if I didn't help," Wren said, making Ron's ears turn slightly red. "You don't -- you don't have to do that, Wren. Besides, you look dead on your feet," Ron said. "Correction, Ron. I'm dead on my arse. I don't mind. After breakfast go back up to your dorm. I'll mix some remedies and you'll be on your feet again. Or you could go to Madam Pomfrey and spend five minutes there before returning to your Potions class," Wren said, smiling slightly. "See you after breakfast, then," Ron said with a nod. "Erm…Ron, you kind of look like you're going to -- well -- spew. Maybe you should just go back to your dorm right now. Everyone looks a little worried about their food," Wren suggested. Ron looked longingly at his plate. "Don't worry. I'll bring you up food when I come up, all right?" Wren said, looking piteously at him. Ron stood up and gave a weak smile. "Thanks, Wren. I owe you one. Oh yeah. And you can be my girlfriend at any time now," he said, smirking. Wren stuck her tongue out at him as he walked away. "That was oddly nice of you, Wren. I wouldn't if I were you, though," Hermione said, wrinkling her nose. "Ron's always rather ornery when he's ill." "And you wanted to be a Healer, Hermione, pet?" Harry laughed, pecking her on the cheek. Hermione playfully shoved him. "No. I was considering that for a very short time, Harry, but I've decided that I want to be an Auror," she said decisively. "Oh, an Auror. That sounds so interesting. I mean, the kicking arse part would be cool," Wren said with a smile. "That's the only job I've considered," Harry added with a nod. Just then, the post came. Surprisingly, a flock of owls dropped many red letters in front of Wren. Several different shrieks erupted at once, while others followed. "FILTHY HALFBREED!" "YOU SHOULD BE PUT DOWN, YOU MONGREL!" "YOU CAN'T HIDE BEHIND DUMBLEDORE FOREVER, MANGY STRAY!" "GO BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM, DEMON!" were some of the choice words in the Howlers. Wren yelped and clasped her hands to her very sensitive ears. For five minutes straight, booming insults rang through the Great Hall before bursting into flames. "Right. Well, I'd better go back up to Gryffindor Tower. Oh, a letter for Ron. I'll bring it to him. Are you sure Dumbledore got things straightened out with the Fat Lady? I don't want her screaming again," Wren said weakly. "He told her that you weren't a demon and that you were a Gryffindor now, so I guess so," Hermione said, obviously still in shock. "Thanks, Hermione," Wren said after she'd piled food onto a plate. "Do you think he'll eat all of this?" "Well, Ron eats a lot, but he's sick, so…bring a couple more pancakes," Harry said. Wren did so and soon after left the Great Hall, yawning. She persuaded the Fat Lady into letting her inside, and climbed the stairs to the boys' dormitory. Wren knocked on the door before entering. She sat on the bed next to Ron's. He had obviously gotten worse. He was perspiring and his face was flushed. Wren frowned. "Poor you. Here. Try to eat," she said, setting the plate on a bed tray before setting it over his lap. Ron struggled to sit up. "Thanks," he said hoarsely. "No problem. I'm going to go get a cold cloth for your forehead and some herbs," Wren said, looking at her friend piteously. She started back down the stairs, then up to the girls' dormitory. She took a washcloth from the bathroom and took up a shallow basin. Wren then began digging around underneath her four poster, where she found a bag contained many different herbs and such. After hurriedly changing back into one of her favored red kimonos and getting more assorted items, Wren returned to the boys' dormitory. Ron looked awful. His face was flushed and he was sweating like mad. This was no ordinary illness, Wren decided. Wren sat next to him. She gave a small smile. Ron looked up at the cloth and the basin. "Just relax, Ron. It's only to cool you down a bit," she said, and began dabbing the wet cloth on his forehead and neck. "Thanks," Ron said raspily. "Oh yes. Here," Wren said, conjuring a glass of water from thin air. Ron sat up and Wren handed it to him. He gulped it down, and was very pleased to find that it had refilled instantly. When Ron's stomach was full of water, he set the glass on the bedside table. He leaned back against his pillow again. Ron was miserable. He'd never before felt so horrible.
Wren smiled cheerfully at Ron. He was getting very weak, and she could tell. "You're probably really hot from the fever. You might be more comfortable if you take off your shirt," Wren said, dabbing lightly at his face with the cloth. Ron's ears turned red, but he nodded, and struggled to get his shirt off. He tossed it aside. Ron was exhausted even from that. But that didn't matter. At least he wasn't so damn hot. Never in his life had he remembered getting this sick before. "How exactly am I supposed to repay you for this?" Ron said, a weak smile spreading across his lips. "Oh, I'll find a way. You can count on that," Wren said, mixing herbs and chopping up different roots. "What is that stuff?" Ron asked. "Nothing. It'll make you better. But I'm afraid it'll take a few hours for me to finish it. It'll work right away, though. But I'm pretty sure that if you play your cards right, I can get you the rest of the day off," she said with a nod. "I'd kiss you if I knew you wouldn't punch me," Ron teased. "Oh yeah. I forgot. Mortal men aren't your style, are we?" Wren flushed. "Shut up, Ron. That was just a cover. Just in case I couldn't trust you people," she said, adding some murky liquid to the concoction. "Yeah, I know. Just teasing," Ron replied with a nod. "Oh yes. I forgot. Here. You got a letter," Wren handed the letter to Ron, who opened it quickly. His eyes suddenly grew round as marbles. "What is it?" she asked curiously. "I can't believe it," Ron said hoarsely. "I can't believe it." Wren smiled. "Well, don't keep me in the dark, Ron, tell me! I'm sitting on the edge of my seat!" Ron looked up at her. "Angelina, the old captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team said that she wants me to be the captain." "Yay! Congratulations, Ron," Wren said, smiling at her friend. "I don't believe it. Why would she choose me? I've only been on the team for a year!" Ron said, in shock. "Why not Harry? He's been on the team the longest. Holy crap, I've got to pick out people to play." "Ron, relax. I'm sure there's a very good reason why Angelina picked you," Wren said as she continued with the herbs. "Yeah. She's gone insane," Ron said, putting the letter on the bedside stand. "Shut up. I'm sure you're good at Quidditch," Wren said. "Yeah. From the ground," Ron moaned as he rolled onto his front and stuffed his face into his pillow. "You play the position of a Keeper, right, Ron? Well, look at it this way. Only four people in this whole school get to be Keeper. And last year, Angelina picked you. That's got to be good for something. And now she thinks that you're good enough to be the captain. Lay on your back, you'll get more air that way," Wren said, rolling him onto his back. "Guess you're right. I can't be terrible," Ron said with a sigh. Wren smiled. Dammit. Why the hell couldn't she keep her eyes off of Ron's torso? She had to admit, a year of Quidditch had not been bad for the guy. He wasn't really big or muscular, but he definitely wasn't scrawny. No, definitely not. Whoa. Was that a four pack? Stop it! Wren Sophia Lupin, stop it right -- No! Stop! Wren hurriedly looked away when she realized that she was staring.
"When that stuff is made, how long is it going to take for that stuff to work?" Ron asked curiously.
Wren didn't look up. "It should work right away." She finally managed to look at Ron without staring. "Oh. And what exactly does it do?" Ron asked. "That's not important." Wren didn't want to worry Ron. There was no need for that as of now. She would, however, go speak with the headmaster later, but not until Ron was well again. Not until this thing was gone, otherwise, he would surely die. "Oh. All right." Ron yawned widely. "You know, being sick sucks." "It most certainly does, Ron." "I mean, you're stuck in bed all day with nothing to do except stare off into space," Ron said. "Yeah, but you get me to talk to. That's got to count for something, right?" Wren replied jokingly. Just as Ron was about to respond, the door to the boys' dormitory opened again, and in came Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Lupin (on the only hour he had off from teaching that day), and Dumbledore himself. Mrs. Weasley instantly flocked to her son's bed and engulfed him in a hug. "Oh, Ron, you poor thing! The headmaster sent us an owl saying that you were very ill, and we came immediately!" Mrs. Weasley practically smothered Ron in a hug. "Mum, stop." Ron's face and ears were red from embarrassment. "I'm fine." "No, you are not fine, Ronald. You look half-dead, you know," Mrs. Weasley said, surveying her son. "Thanks, Mum," Ron mumbled sarcastically. "Hey, if you're not going to take that hug, can I have it?" Wren said with a smile.
Mrs. Weasley looked at Wren as though she only just noticed her. It was then Wren's turn to be engulfed in a hug. "Thank you so much for looking after Ron, dear. It's so kind of you," she said. Wren looked over at Ron. "Ah ha. Now who's getting the hugs?" Ron laughed. "She doesn't hug, she squeezes the life out of you." "Nope. This is a true hug. Ha ha," Wren said, and Mrs. Weasley released her. "Anyway, it's really not a problem. I've got nothing better to do." "Oh, so I'm just a last resort?" Ron said, pretending to be mad. "Yes." Wren stuck her tongue out at him. "But don't you think you should be in the hosptial wing, Ron?" Mr. Weasley spoke up. "No," Wren blurted out. No. Definitely not. If Ron's taken to the hospital wing, it would be disastrous. Now she realized that they were all staring at her. "Er… Professors Dumbledore, Lupin, could I possibly see you for just a moment? It's about -- er -- classes," she said quickly. "I've just remembered." "All right," Dumbledore said, nodding meaningly at her. Lupin and Dumbledore followed her out of the boys' dormitory. "Okay. I know it seems like the most rational thing right now, but it's not. That is not an ordinary flu or anything. It's Voldemort. He's trying to possess Ron but it's not working. I know it," Wren said quietly. "Are you certain?" Dumbledore asked, apparently not surprised. "Absolutely." "And the reason that he hasn't yet possessed Ron?" Lupin asked. "Because he can't. Not fully, anyway. Voldemort can't so much as touch Ron so long as I'm around. Apparently, I have more power than Voldemort expected," Wren said. "But there is a way to restore Ron…?" Lupin asked. "Yes. I just need to finish the remedy and he'll be back to normal again. It will protect him from other said attempts," Wren explained. "Do you plan on telling him?" Lupin inquired. "No. At least not before Ron's well again. If I did, it would most likely frighten him and he would only become weaker." "An excellent idea. I suppose we'd better get back," said Dumbledore. "Right," said Wren before opening the door to the boys' dormitory again. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were congratulating Ron, and Wren knew that he had told them about the Quidditch position. "Ah, yes. I'd almost forgotten about that. Congratulations on becoming captain, Ron. Also, I must tell you about the upcoming event," Dumbledore said. "Event?" Ron's eyes widened slightly as he sat up. Wren lightly pushed him back down, standing at his side. "On Halloween a dance will take place celebrating the many years Hogwarts has had the house Quidditch teams. The captains open the dance, much like what happened at the Yule Ball," Dumbledore explained. "You mean, with partners?" Ron said, his voice an octave higher than normal. "Yes, Mr. Weasley." "Dancing?" "Hence the term dancing partners." "Oh. Then can I resign?" Wren nudged him. "Shut up, Ron. It's only a little dance." "I know that," Ron said snappily, his ears turning red slightly. Wren smiled. "You don't know how to dance, do you?" "I do!" Ron said. "All right, all right. Don't get defensive, Ron." "Defensive? Who's defensive?" "Calm down, Ron. Now, which girl do you want to take?" Wren said, sitting down next to him on the bed. "Hm… I don't know any girls except for Hermione. She'll be going with Harry, anyway," Ron said, looking deep in thought. "You don't know any girls except for Hermione, hm?" Anyone (except Ron, poor thing) could tell that Wren was growing angry. "Well, yeah." Wren's face turned red in embarrassment and anger. "Just what exactly do you think I am, Ron Weasley?! Oh, I get it now! I'm just the puppy sidekick, right?!" she blew up. Ron looked shocked at this response. "Huh? No, Wren, not at all. It's just, well, you're different from the girls here." "You're not exactly helping your case here!" Wren yelled. "I mean, you're older. You've got to be like eighteen or nineteen, right?" Ron said. "What are you talking about? Ron, if I were that old, don't you think I'd be in at least the seventh year classes in order to hide?" Wren said. "Er, I guess so. So, how old are you?" "Sixteen! Ron, no offense, but I think the fever's gone to your head!" Wren said exasperatedly. "I just meant that you seem older. You know, you act older than a lot of the girls here." Wren's anger quickly faded and was replaced with embarrassment. "No." "Nice save," Mr. Weasley said, leaning over to his son. "I still don't know who I'm going to take. Merlin, this and getting new players and Snape's essay…" Ron said bitterly. "I don't know why I'm doing this, but Ron, if you really are that desperate, you could always take me," Wren said, pouring this over in her mind. "You'd do that?" Ron asked, looking grateful. "Sure. If you want me to, I mean." "Yeah. That sounds - um… good. Sure," Ron said, looking a bit uncomfortable. Wren didn't know whether it was the fever or the dance that made him uncomfortable, but she decided that she had better get back to making the remedy.
The adults soon left after bidding Ron wellness. Wren sighed as she stirred the concoction. Ron had fallen asleep almost as soon as they left. Wren wondered bitterly what it was like to sleep. Oh well. At least he was getting some rest. Wren yawned. She could not believe that it wasn't even a day since she had been running through the Forbidden Forest from the Death Eaters. She couldn't go back. She would never go back to him. Wren would gladly serve some payback to the man who had made her life hell. And how kind and generous her father had been. It was the only possible reason for Voldemort to try to possess Ron. To get to Wren. And if he ever did get her, what would happen then? He would kill her, no doubt. Or worse. Something utterly worse than physical torture: he could brainwash her. It had been known to have happened to others. Voldemort would remove all of her memories then Imperius her into doing whatever he wished. In this case, it would be slaughtering all of his foes. All of his foes -- who had become her friends, and she wouldn't be able to fight against it. She'd just be a walking corpse. And if Voldemort managed to possess Ron, the strain on his mortal body would undoubtedly destroy him. But Wren would not have it. She wouldn't let that happen. Ever…
Wren was suddenly jolted awake. Her sensitive ears picked up the sound right away. It was Ron, and he was gasping. Wren immediately turned to him. His eyes were flashing from their ordinary blue to a piercing red…a red that Wren knew very well, and feared. Ron's eyes turned back to their normal blue color, but they were wide and filled with terror. "Help," he said weakly, his voice barely a whisper. And again, the flash of red jolted back to his eyes. Wren spun around to find that concoction on the floor. Thank the gods that it hadn't spilled. She picked it up and hurried back over. "Get that away from me, you wench!" Ron's voice was not his own now. It was high-pitched, and Wren froze for a second, terror spreading throughout her body. The man who had killed so many…the man who had killed her very mother right in front of her eyes. Wren didn't know why this hit her so hard, but it did. Her fear quickly turned into anger and utter loathing. "Leave Ron alone! It's me that you're after, not him, you vile scum!" She climbed on top of the bed, struggling to hold him still. Wren grabbed his jaw and forced his mouth open. She poured the liquid down Ron's throat. Ron/Voldemort grabbed Wren sharply by the shoulders, digging his nails into her skin. Wren yelped and struggled against his surprising strength. Suddenly, Ron's eyes changed back and he released her. He stared at Wren, his eyes wild. "D-did that really happen or did I just dream it?" he said hoarsely. "Yeah," Wren managed to choke out. For a few moments, the two just stared at the other, until Wren realized that she was still laying on Ron's chest. She scrambled off the bed. Ron sat up, rubbing his head. "Merlin. I didn't hurt you, did I, Wren?" he asked concernedly. Wren smiled. She loved that worried look in his eyes. "No, Ron. I'm fine. What about yourself? You should feel back to normal by now." "Yeah. Actually, I feel fine," Ron said, looking confused. "So, I was being possessed the whole time?" "Well, not quite. He was trying to possess you, Ron. I saw it almost right away. But I guess your will was too strong or something, because he was having a very hard time of it. And after a while, you'd weakened, and it was becoming easier for him to go deeper and deeper into your mind. Apparently, Voldemort underestimated me, because I was able to keep him from going any farther. But we both fell asleep. In our weakened states, possessing you was becoming easier for him. You don't have to worry about that any more, though," Wren said, stretching. She looked at her watch in disbelief. She'd only been asleep for twenty minutes. "Oh," was all that Ron was able to say. "Well, I'm feeling a lot better. Thanks." Thanks? The girl just saved your life and all you can think of is THANKS?! Ron thought angrily.
"Um, any time?" Wren said, blushing slightly. "Er, then you want to go sit in the common room? There's not much else to do." "Sure," Ron said with a shrug. He sat up and put his shirt back on. He followed Wren downstairs and could find that his eyes seemed to be locked on a certain desirable part of her.
He plopped down on the couch right next to her. Ron wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "I really owe you one, Wren. You probably saved my life." Wren shrugged, leaning her head against his chest. She was exhausted, and the energy it had taken to ward off the full possession of Ron had drained her almost completely. "Don't think on it. You would have done the same for me," she said with a wide yawn. "No, I wouldn't have. I don't have all that power," Ron said, patting the top of her head. He was examining her ears inconspicuously. He was tired too: being attacked from the inside out was not a pleasant thing, and he had been fighting all that time to keep it away from him. "I meant you would if you could," Wren said, another yawn escaping her lips. "You know, I'm going to tell you something that nobody else knows. Well, at least Hermione and Harry don't know yet." "What is it?" Ron asked, eager to know this secret. "Isaacs isn't my real last name." She looked up into a face of freckled shock. "It's Lupin." Ron's jaw dropped. "You're related to Professor Lupin? Wicked," Ron said, his eyes wide. "Actually, I'm his daughter. Voldemort" -- Ron cringed slightly at the name -- "killed my mother when I was two and took me with him. My dad thought I'd died as well. He never spoke of it. I guess it's because it was so sad for him. Anyway, Isaacs was my mother's maiden name. And the ears aren't from what Voldemort did to me. It's a result of having two werewolf parents. But in exchange, I don't have to turn into a wolf every month. But the increase in running and leaping and the different healing process was done when by him when I was very little," Wren confessed. "Bloody hell," was all that Ron could say. "I haven't told anyone else because -- well -- I wasn't sure I could trust them. Except for Harry and Hermione. I already trust them. I just don't exactly know what I would say or when I would slip it in," Wren said, feeling as though an insurmountable weight had been lifted from her chest. "Hermione's going to be going on about this for an hour," Ron said, a smile spreading across his lips. "That's weird. Both of your parents are werewolves but you don't become a werewolf at all." "Yes, but I become very weak during full moons. I lose all of my powers. You know, the leaping thing and my healing ability. But I am able to turn into a wolf at will," Wren said with a yawn. Ron's eyes widened. "Whoa. You're an Animagus?" "No, not quite. I mean, I didn't have to work at becoming one. I've just been able to do that for as far back as I could remember. It comes in handy, occasionally. That's why nobody could find me when I'd run from Voldemort. All they saw was a wolf," Wren explained. "Lucky," Ron muttered. He yawned widely. "I'm glad you told me all that. Would it be okay if I told Hermione and Harry?" "Of course. I'd be grateful if you'd do that," Wren said. As she rested her head on his chest, she could hear the soft beating of his heart. She yawned again and began thinking. She was vaguely aware of an arm wrapping around her before she fell asleep.
"Ron, what the hell are you doing?!" Harry's voice pierced Ron's dream. He blinked, and was surprised to find a black mass against his chest. After a few minutes of waking up, Ron realized that Wren was lying on top of him on the couch, her hands resting on his chest. His hand was resting on her waist, and he quickly removed it. Ron turned his head toward the voice, trying not to wake Wren. Hermione and Harry were staring at him with their jaws slightly ajar. "What the hell are you doing?!" Harry repeated. Ron found that he could only mouth words rather than speak them. Finally, he managed to speak. "I…I fell asleep," he whispered. "I see that," Hermione said, a small smile spreading across her face. Ron glared. "It wasn't like that, I…" Ron shifted slightly, making sure he did not wake Wren. He carefully slid out from beneath her without waking, lightly putting a blanket on her. "What happened?" Harry demanded, still looking horrified. "We fell asleep on the couch, that's it! Don't give me that look, Hermione, that's all that happened. We were sitting on the couch and then we fell asleep. That's all!" "Okay. We believe you, Ron. You have no idea what's been traveling all over the school. Everyone's saying that Wren is Lupin's -" But Ron cut Hermione off. "Daughter. Yeah, I know. She told me. Do you guys know about all that other cool stuff?" he asked. "Yes," the two replied in unison. "But how did you find out?" "It was a combination of Siri-- Snuffles and Lupin," Harry said. Ron ran a hand through his hair and looked at his watch. "Bloody hell. We were both out for hours!" "Lupin also told us what happened. How terrible, Ron. Are you all right?" Hermione began fretting, tears welling in her eyes. Ron laughed. "Hermione, you're worse than my mum. I'm fine. So… How many people exactly know about this?" " 'This' what?" "Well, all of it." "Yeah, everyone knows about almost everything that happened. They know that she's Lupin's daughter, that you were almost possessed and that you two were caught snuggling. We just wanted to make sure it wasn't true," Harry said, smirking slightly. Ron punched him playfully on the shoulder. "Shut up, Harry." "Do you think we should wake her? It's nearly dinner," Hermione asked, smiling as one of Wren's ears twitched. "No. She should be up soon. Besides, she hardly got any sleep yesterday and today, you know," Ron said quietly, pulling the blanket up to her shoulders. Merlin, she's so cute when she sleeps, Ron thought. He immediately forced these thoughts out of his mind and mentally scolded himself. The four went down to dinner, where Ron got many glares and snide comments, which he immediately responded with, "That's a lie!" And no matter how many times Ron attempted to look at Professor Lupin to try to make him understand that nothing had happened, Lupin would simply advert his glance. "Yeh know it's not true, so why the ruddy hell are yeh so upset?" Hagrid said to Remus when he could no longer take it. "What? What are you talking about, Hagrid?" Remus tried to play innocent. "What the students said abou' Ron an' Wren isn' true, and yeh know it Remus. It's jus' a rumor made up by some kids," Hagrid said, shrugging. "What? Oh, I know. She wouldn't… I mean, I think she wouldn't…" Remus was now back to his doubts. Hagrid playfully pushed him. "Remus, yeh know she didn't, so back off." "Molly and Arthur's son…" grumbled Remus. Knowing that Remus would not drop the matter easily, Hagrid sighed and returned to his meal.
Just then, Wren sat down next to Hermione. She yawned widely. "How long was I out?" she asked with a small laugh. "About as long as I was," Ron said. "Oh yes. I'll have you know that you're a very comfortable friend, Ron," laughed Wren. "Right…" "What's the matter?" Wren asked curiously. "Well, er…" Hermione sighed. "Rumors were spreading about how you and Ron, er, got intimate," she said, blushing madly. Wren blushed. "What? That's crazy!" she said, eyes going wide. "Yeah, that's what I said!" said Ron. "Preposterous!" "Yeah, I know!" Ron paused. "Wait…" "Anyway, a lot of people think that you're a bit of a…um…" "Slut?" groaned Wren. "To put it that way, yes," Hermione said, wincing slightly. "Oh yeah. Everyone knows that you're Lupin's daugther and all that stuff," Harry added casually. Wren looked stunned. "I'm really sorry, you guys. It's not that I didn't want to tell you, it's just that I didn't know when to." "Don't think on it. I didn't." Just then, a red-faced Slytherin stormed over to them. He glared at Wren. "WHAT THE HELL, LUPIN?!" Wren looked shocked. "Uh… What is it, Malfoy?" "You know very damn well what it is!" snapped Malfoy. "Er…" "How in hell is it possible for you to go to Weasel instead of me?!" Wren (and everyone else in the room) had obviously not been expecting this. She looked totally stunned/disgusted. She could only blink for a few moments. "Huh?" "How could you go for him when he's so poor and dirty! He's hardly even full blood! And his mother is so ungodly f-" "SHE IS NOT FAT!" It was not Ron who yelled this, but Wren. Within seconds, she had her wand pointed at his chest. "Don't you dare say it, Malfoy, or I'll Transfigure you into a rat!" Malfoy suddenly looked quite scared. He tried to act nonchalantly about it, and said, "Cool it, Lupin. I was just -- you know, teasing…" His hand suddenly found her backside. Wren's face turned a deep shade of burgundy. Harry wasn't sure whether it was from her anger or if she was embarrassed, or maybe even a combination of both. SMACK! Wren stormed away, fists clenched into balls at her side, her face scarlet. Malfoy could only look after in shock.