Chapter 4
Running
Sarah ended up going back to her bedroom. Remus was teaching DADA for a few days until she took over. She wouldn't teach Occlumency until the following month. What was she supposed to do for 3 days when electronics didn't work in Hogwarts. There was no use trying to listen to her iPod or play DDR. Not that she had ever been too obsessed with something as brainless as videos games, but she had done it in some of her spare time back when she lived in MD. It was just that she usually had had stuff going on with friends and her jobs to ever even be able to carelessly play a game for over 20 minutes. Sarah removed the duffle from the floor of her closet and set it on her bed. She took out the clothes and hung them in her closet. She had packed a few of her favorite books and set them on the shelves. She took her shampoo, conditioner, shower gel, makeup, ect. and put it in the appropriate place.
Her duffle was empty save for 10 or 20 picture frames. She put 5 on her side table and then went back to her class room and set 10 on her desk. She wondered if Remus was teaching, because she wanted to put her frames on Remus's desks, since she would spend just as much time at that desk as he would. She decided to risk him being with students. She walked to his class room and noticed, gratefully, that there was only one girl in Remus's class room.
Sarah inclined her head to her, "Hermione, early as usual I see."
Hermione smiled. "I was just really excited. Professor Lupin taught me in my third year. He was amazing. I can't wait to see what he has planned."
"I'm sure he won't disappoint you," Sarah said as she sat at his desk. "A bit messy though, isn't he? Looks as though he likes chocolate," Sarah added, lifting an empty chocolate wrapper in disgust.
"That's his comfort food."
"I hate chocolate. I'm a bit healthy. I don't eat junk food. I'm also a vegetarian."
"Doesn't that mean that you can only have fruits and vegetables?"
"No, I can have grains to. But grains can be very high fat they are not rationed properly."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You sound like my mother," she said. "Anyway what are you doing in here?"
"Putting some pictures in here. There we go." Sarah said happily after she had arranged all of the photos.
"Do you mind if I look at them?" Hermione asked.
"Go ahead. I know if I say no, the moment I leave you'll look at them anyway. And besides, I wouldn't put up pictures I don't want people to see right in the middle of a classroom now would I?"
Hermione shook her head and got up to look at them. "Who's that?" she asked.
"My friend Lauren, my brother, and me."
"That doesn't look like you at all," Hermione commented.
"Oh no, that's not me. I'm on the left. You're looking at Lauren."
"Oh. That still doesn't look like you, you know."
"I was eleven there. I'm thirty four now. What do you expect? No one looks like they did 23 years before."
Hermione shrugged. "People usually have the same facial structure though. They usually have the same main features that they had when they were younger."
"I have the same eyes. Look!" Sarah shoved the photo in front of Hermione's face.
"They're blue in this picture. Your eyes now are brown."
"But they still look the same. They're the same almond shape and everything."
"Why did you change so much. I mean, you look so different in this picture. Here you have blue eyes and really dark hair. You're also really pale in this picture. Now you have Light brown hair, chestnut brown eyes, and you have olive skin."
"My eyes changed on their own. I started going to the tanning bed when I left school because my mom never let me go before. I highlight my hair. When you get older, you'll probably change the way you look to feel more comfortable."
"I never said there was anything wrong with it. I think you look nice. I was just stating that you don't look the same."
"I already knew that. I'm gonna go now anyway. This place is so boring."
"You could go to the library!" Hermione said enthusiastically.
Sarah looked thoughtful for a moment. "That's not a bad idea; I think I might just check out a few good books. Do you recommend any?"
"Well you'll already know everything in the books that's I've read, but Hogwarts, A History, is very informative."
"Thanks, Hermione. I'll check that one out. I suppose it's about Hogwart's history?" Sarah asked.
"Naturally," Hermione responded briefly.
The door opened and Ron entered carrying his books in one hand. "I thought Professor Lupin would be teaching today."
Sarah smirked. "So you like Professor Lupin better than me? I'll keep that in mind if ever I'm grading one of your tests, Ronald."
Hermione snorted and Ron looked slightly confused as Sarah whisked past him in a very provocative manner.
In the hall, Sarah ran into Professor Lupin, carrying his briefcase.
"Good evening, Sarah," Remus said, nodding to her.
"It's absolutely intriguing," Sarah retorted, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
Remus chuckled. "That bored are you?"
"Yes, I think I might go the library and try and learn something. Which isn't likely, but there isn't anything better to do."
"Well, have fun-"
"I'm more likely to lay an egg," Sarah murmured, cutting Remus off.
Remus chuckled and he walked passed her into his class room. Sarah glared at the door as it shut she turned around and headed back to her room.
She changed her mind about the library. Why bother try and learn when she had slaved away for 7 years trying to soak up knowledge, all of which she later regretted learning.
She remembered what Harry had said, about the brooms. She had never been hand-eye coordinated, so playing for a team had always been out of the question. She did fly though. Usually when it was raining, because it made her feel so exhilarated to fly so fast and get so wet.
But she hadn't flown since her 6th year at Penn Forest. No doubt she would be rusty. The weather was warm. Surely she should save such an activity for when the weather was colder, like she always had when she was younger.
But the Quidditch season would be in session then. Did the players have their own brooms, or would they use the ones from the broom shed? Sarah sighed. She couldn't go to Remus, he was teaching then.
She hardly knew any of the other professors. Sarah sighed. She walked outside, looking for a teacher. She gave and angry groan when she didn't see anyone.
Sarah ran around the corner, and saw McGonagall speaking in civil tones with a stout woman Sarah thought was Professor Sprout, but she wasn't entirely sure. Sarah approached them confidently, smiling at them once she had reached them.
"Good evening," she said.
Professor Sprout gave a wide and warm smile. "How are you, Sarah?" she asked.
"I'm fine, but I was wondering if the quidditch team used the school brooms, or if those were just up for give and take?"
McGonagall stared at her before saying, "You can use one of the brooms, if that's what you're asking."
Sarah tried to draw herself up to McGonagall's height, but because of her Italian bloodline, she was unsuccessful. "That was not what I was asking. I asked whether or not the team used them during quidditch season," Sarah said, deciding not to comment, 'had you listened, you would have known'.
"Why does that matter?" Minerva asked, her voice gained an edge.
"Because I like to fly when it's cold, ok? Do you have a problem with that?"
"They don't use the school brooms. They have their own," Sprout said with a smile.
"Thank you," Sarah said in a fake sweet voice. She turned around and went back to the room. Walking to her closet, which she decided was far too small to fit all her things, she opened her door. Sarah pulled her sweat pants off and put on navy shorts.
Sarah had run track ever since she had been 16. She wasn't very fast, but nor was she slow. She did it in her free time, and listened to music as she did so. Jake was the joke in the family, the one who had been hand-eye coordinated, as opposed to Sarah. Jake was also on the varsity track team, but he went to a muggle school, so he never really ran with Sarah.
Sarah had gotten a wizard CD player that played muggle CD's before she had arrived at Hogwarts, which she had forgotten about until now. She grabbed it just before she walked out the door, and when she reached the grounds, she put it on.
An hour later, Sarah was completely out of breath. Sweat dripped off her face and her hair was coming down from its messy bun and sticking to her face. Sarah had run her self to the point where she was shaking. She walked to the staff room, which had the closest bathroom.
She opened the heavy oak door and several teachers looked up. Sarah walked to the opposite side where the women's bathroom was and she opened it. McGonagall stood there, washing her hands, and looked up when she saw Sarah.
"Good heavens! What have you been doing?" she exclaimed when she caught sight of Sarah.
Panting, Sarah responded, "Running." She walked over to the nearest stall and pushed it open and fell to her knees, letting the door rest against her foot. McGonagall walked over worriedly as Sarah leaned over the toilet and vomited.
"Professor!" McGonagall gasped. Sarah stood and walked to the sink, where she splashed cold water on her face.
"Sorry. I ran the 800 twice, sprinting," Sarah explained.
"There's nothing to be sorry for! And what on earth is the 800?"
"800 meters. It's the length of half a football field."
"Do you need to go to the hospital wing?" McGonagall asked.
Sarah shook her head and cupped her hands under the running water, bent over, and drank it. "No. This had happened before. It's nothing unusual. I just need water," Sarah said, and she bent her head back down to drink more.
