Disclaimer: Read my pf thingy.
Author's Note: Sorry it took so long – I was in a slump for the LONGEST time. Especially sorry to Gabby, my loving supporter – I LOVE YOU HUN! Thanks for always reading! And of course, love to you too, Cait, for being my unofficial editor. :-)
Twenty-Two
As the doors to the castle opened, she jogged alongside the carriages. A group of four was seated in the carriage she as running beside – a boy with red hair, a girl with the same color hair whom she assumed was the boy's sister, a girl with curly brown hair, and a boy with dark hair and glasses. Her vision of them was blurred through the glass, but she was certainly getting tired from running. She jumped up on the side of the cart and knocked on the window. The boy with dark hair opened the door for her.
"Erm, what are you doing?" he asked.
"I, uh, missed my carriage," Lina lied hastily. She thanked God for still looking like she was seventeen.
"Well, you want to jump in?" he questioned, still staring at her in wonder.
"Thank you!" she cried, jumping into the carriage.
The red-haired boy and the curly-haired girl were sitting next to each other, and opposite them were the boy who let her in and the red-haired girl. She squished herself in between these two and smiled, looking around.
"Well, who are all you?" she asked brightly. Her expression completely contradicted her current mood.
"I'm Hermione Granger," said the curly haired girl. Pointing to the red-haired girl, she said, "This is Ginny Weasley, this is Ron Weasley (her brother), and that's –"
"I'm perfectly capable of introducing myself, Hermione," the dark-haired boy said. Now that Lina was up close, she noticed a lightning-bolt shaped scar beneath his forehead. "I'm Harry Potter," he said.
Lina gasped. "You're . . . you can't be . . ."
"Yes, he's Harry Potter, is that a problem?" Ron snapped.
"You're Lily and James' son!" she cried.
"Yes . . ." Harry said, trailing off.
Lina felt like fainting, but she figured that it probably wouldn't exactly be a good idea. She held her breath and froze her chest. She looked for something in her pocket to play with – anything that would distract her.
"You look like you've been through a rough journey," Hermione mused. "Where are your robes?"
"My robes?" Lina asked hesitantly, stalling for time.
"Yeah. You're wearing some jeans and a shirt – that's against dress code."
"Oh. Well. About that . . ."
Lina was thankful as the carriage jerked to a stop in front of the school, so she was saved the terrifying idea of weaving another web of lies. Coming to Hogwarts in the first place was proving to be a lot more difficult than she had imagined. Now, not only was she an elf, but she was also emerging from the Forbidden Forest wearing street clothes and jumping on to the side of random students' carriages. She jumped hastily out of the carriage, anxious to get away from the uncomfortable situation.
"Well, um, thanks for the ride and all, everyone, but I kind of have to be somewhere. It was nice meeting you. I'll see you later," she said, as though the entire speech were one sentence.
Harry, the one person she needed to get on her side the most, was the one who was giving her the most quizzical look. "Yeah, I guess so . . ."
"Bye!" called Ginny as Lina jogged away from them as fast as possible. But suddenly, just as they were leaving, a thought occurred to her.
"Wait!" she shouted, catching their attention immediately. "Does Remus Lupin work here?"
"Yeah, he is the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He was in our third year, too, but he resigned after a small . . . er, mishap," Ron explained. "Why do you need to know?"
"Because. Where is his office?" she asked hastily.
"Just ask one of the paintings," Hermione said irritably. "Now if you don't mind, we sort of have to get to the Great Hall for dinner. Aren't you coming?"
"Uh, I'll be there in a second. You guys can, erm, go ahead."
Hermione breathed a sigh and grabbed Ron by the arm, dragging her along behind him while he stared at Lina. She wasn't exactly sure what kind of a stare it was – curious, mean, questioning, intriguing, or affectionate – but at the same time she couldn't help but feel that Hermione wasn't happy about it. And she also couldn't help but think that he was looking at her in more than one way.
Lina shook off her thoughts, however, and began looking for "Professor" Lupin's office. There were probably millions of portraits in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but Lina knew just the one to ask.
A few minutes later, she arrived in front of a small canvas painting of a pretty young girl dressed in a frilly pink dress.
"Rosalie?" she questioned quietly.
"Is that you, Lina dear?" the girl asked, a small spark lighting up in her oil-painted eyes for a moment. But the spark was extinguished as she said, "But it cannot be you. You left many, many years ago. Anyway, what is the trouble?"
"I am looking for Professor Lupin's room. Do you know where it is?"
"Why yes, of course."
"Oh, Merlin, thank you! Can you give me directions?"
"Yes, dear. Certainly."
After a quick synopsis of directions to Remus' room, Lina was back on her way. Even though she knew she should be happy, she was not. She was now more afraid than ever.
Rosalie had been her friend through many hard years of crying and tears while she was locked up in her room, awaiting the day when she would be allowed to join the rest of the world in her magical education. She knew almost everything that had ever happened to her. Rosalie was the guardian of her room since the day it was given to her when she was dating John. Rosalie had always asked her how she kept looking so young, and Lina had always had to reply quickly about how she used some magical cream. Rosalie was, as sad as it seemed, one of her best friends, and had been for a long time.
If Rosalie did not recognize her, then how could she expect Remus to?
Something inside of her wanted her to pull away, to leave and never come back. She wanted to save herself the pain. She wanted to save herself the tears and him the embarrassment of having to turn her down. But another part of her, at the same time, told her to stay, because although it was highly improbable that he would remember her, let alone recognize her as his Lina, there was still a small sliver of hope.
Within moments, she found herself standing in front of his door. She didn't remember how she got there, but there she was.
She was about to reach for the doorknob when she stopped herself. Was she crazy? Meeting her boyfriend for the first time in twenty-five years wearing ripped, grass-stained jeans?
She quickly ran into the bathroom and changed, and once again, found herself in front of Remus' door.
And this time there was no turning back.
Celina took a deep breath. It had been twenty-five years since she had seen Remus, and she was more ready than ever to see him. She missed him so much – but when she thought about it, she knew things would be different. He had aged twenty-five years years. He was now forty-two years old, and she still looked seventeen. He was probably a little grey, a lot older, a lot more mature. What if he didn't like her anymore? But she knew she had to. She couldn't sacrifice love because she was afraid.
She knocked on the door.
"Come in," said a deep voice. It was a bit older, but she recognized it quite well. She sighed and, reaching for the doorknob, wrenched it open.
