Winter at Hogwarts

Chapter Seven

The castle seemed to echo strangely around Nym as she walked through the corridors. Sometimes she wondered if it wasn't, just the littlest bit, sentient. At times like this it certainly seemed it. The thick stone walls cried out inaudibly, trying to fill the void that the departing students had left.

Perhaps that was all in her mind, which tried vainly to adjust to this new, empty Hogwarts. The few occupants rattled through the vast building, pretending Christmas cheer. While the teachers had put forth their best to make the castle seem warm and inviting and all together Christmas-y, it all seemed a bit of a let down.

I shouldn't be here, Nym thought. I should be home, with my Mum and Dad, visiting my cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents, with big turkey dinners around too-small tables and trees with handmade ornaments from when I was four. The turkey dinners here were even bigger than home, but the table seemed too vast even for that much food. She almost wished for her Uncle Rod to show up, bearing his latest invented dish, which as often as not was inedible. At least that was familiar.

She wouldn't have any of those things for Christmas this year. A week before everyone left a letter had arrived via a very ruffled owl from her mother, telling her in no uncertain terms that she was not, under any circumstances, to come home for Christmas and that, if she did, she would be promptly disowned. If she wanted to see some of her family for Christmas, the letter added, she was more than welcome to visit one of her aunts, Bellatrix or Narcissa. Nym had thrown the letter in the fire in a fit of temper and had resolved not to write to her mother until she received an apology fully a foot long or more, and even that had better be very sincere.

"Dwarfish tinsel," she said as she approached the portrait of the over-large lady in the vast pink dress that guarded the door to the Common Room. At least she had the Gryffindor Tower to herself. The whole flippin' tower. She was the only Gryffindor left. The portrait swung open without a word. The lady had been caught up in the pervading gloom, and spent most of her time hiding in the back of the picture.

Nym caught sight of herself in the floor length mirror on one of the walls. She was small, and scrawny, and rather too pale. Her black hair hung straight down her back, completely uninteresting. Her nose, thin and straight, seemed large and beak-ish when she recalled the cutely upturned shnoz's of her dorm mates. Staring at the sorry sight she made in her slightly too large robes, she was seized by the desire to be someone else.

She scrunched up her face in concentration. Her mother had always said she shouldn't do that, because proper young ladies didn't, but it seemed to make changing easier. First she changed her nose to a very small, upturned affair, like Hope's, then added color to her cheeks so they were warm like Rose's. Looking at herself, she decided that was a little too warm, so took a little of the color out, but on impulse added freckles like Opal's. Looking at herself, she was amazed to see the resemblance she now bore to Andromeda. Except the nose. No one on her mother's side had a nose like that, at least so Andromeda said. The only major difference was the hair. Andromeda's was light blond, and very stylish.

With an effort, she turned her hair golden, and longer, so it curled in ringlets half way down her back. She took a step back to look at herself. The girl who looked back at her wasn't smiling the way she had been when Nym had envisioned her. In fact, she looked a little unhappy. She was a very pretty girl, like a porcelain doll. Too much like porcelain, Nym realized slowly. Only the eyes were really alive or had any expression. The rest of the face just looked defeated and upset.

This isn't me, Nym thought. I may be small and puny and pale but at least I'm me and not her. She turned away from the mirror, unable to look at herself any more but unwilling to change back. It was all very well to say she was better off one way than another right now. The grass was always greener, and all that.

She bit back a cry and fled the Common Room as a tall figure uncurled itself from within one of the thick armchairs. No one was supposed to have seen her. No one was even supposed to be here.

Long thin fingers brushed her cheek as they reached out and grabbed the back of her collar. They were gray, as if their owner was very old or had been inside too long. She struggled vainly against the hold, but her captor was much bigger than she was and they had no intention of letting her go.

"I would scarcely have credited that if I hadn't seen it myself," said a voice pleasantly behind her. It was a little hoarse, to be sure, like its owner was just getting over a bad cold, but it didn't sound threatening. She turned slowly and looked up, startled, at Lupin. He smiled at her. "If I let you go, do you promise not to run?" She nodded, and he released his hold on her collar.

She straightened her robes to give herself time to think. What was he doing here? Why hadn't he gone home for the holidays, like everyone else? Even if he couldn't go to his own house, she'd heard Prongs extend an invitation to all his friends to come stay with him. "Why aren't you at home?" she asked before she could think of a more tactful way to satisfy her curiosity.

"It was inconvenient for my parents," Lupin said with a shrug. "Or do you really mean, what am I doing here?" Nym opened her mouth to answer, but found she couldn't. What was there to say? "I've been sick, so I haven't been in the dormitory, in case you were wondering." She only nodded.

Lupin looked at her, studying her. She felt color creep into her cheeks under his gaze. It was he who broke the silence first. "What say we go to Hogsmeade for while."

"I'm not allowed," Nym muttered. She'd love to go to Hogsmeade. Zack had kept talking about it, although he'd stopped every time he caught himself. It sounded absolutely incredible. But only third years and up were allowed to go, and then only on certain days.

"Neither am I," Lupin pointed out. "That hasn't stopped me yet."

It sounded tempting. Surely he'd done it loads of times before. "But what if I get caught? I mean, you're a prefect. I'm just a… a first year nobody."

Lupin laughed at that, a warm chuckle that had something of Sirius's barking laugh in it. He turned her around by the shoulders. Looking back at her from the mirror was the little porcelain girl, standing in front of a tall boy who looked a very old seventeen. His face was equally slim, though far more haggard than hers, and his hair was a bit more brown, but the few strands of gray made it seem lighter. They could have been related, almost.

"What are we waiting for?" Nym asked, feeling suddenly reckless. She'd been stuck in the castle for far too long. The long awaited trip home had never happened, and she felt that she'd explode if she didn't do something.

"Knew you'd see it my way." He raised his wand. "Accio." Matching black school cloaks flew down the dormitory stair cases. Nym was pleased to note that Lupin's was as torn as hers, as though he too flew into trees on a regular basis. Well, she doubted he did, but he probably did something similar. Just not as clumsy.

He led her out into the hallway, checking both ways down the corridor before continuing. "I wouldn't be this careful if it was just me," he admitted, after the third or fourth time he'd done this where corridors crossed, "but I'd get in a lot less trouble if it was just me who got caught."

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," Nym suggested. Her reckless feelings had long since evaporated, and now all she felt was a little nervous.

Lupin gave her a grin. However nervous she might be, his reckless enthusiasm more than made up for it. It was a grin like the one she'd seen Prongs and Sirius share, when they thought no one was watching. Normally about the same time, something odd and usually chaotic would happen. "Course it's a good idea." He kept walking, adjusting his longer strides so she could keep up without too much trouble.

He stopped suddenly in front of a statue. Nym had only been this way once, when she was lost, but she remembered the statue with no trouble. It would have been harder to forget, it's subject was so hideous. The artist had obviously tried to portray the witch in the best light, but she was still a one-eyed, hunchbacked old crone with too few teeth and too many… somethings on her face. Nym couldn't decide if they were warts or boils or zits or some hideous magical ailment. The witch leered at her, daring her to come nearer to her disfigured self.

Lupin pulled out his wand and tapped the statue, muttering something. A hole promptly opened in the statue, the stone giving the smallest whisper as it moved, like an old woman's cackle. "Come on," Lupin said cheerfully as he led her into the darkness.

It didn't stay dark long, because even before the stone had sealed itself up Nym had her wand out, lighting the narrow passage. Lupin added light from his own wand, so the twisting stone passage was brightly lit up to where it curved and the way was lost from sight. "It's a bit of a walk, I'm afraid," Lupin said. "There are shorter passages, but they're more difficult to get in and out of."

"How so?" Nym asked, curious. She wasn't supposed to go to Hogsmeade, but if she could use passages like this one there was nothing to stop her. It wasn't as if she'd be recognized. She'd need a new name, though, she realized, to go with her new look. Couldn't have people connecting Nym-the-blond with Nym-with-black-hair.

"Some of them come out where there's lots of people. A few of them the caretaker watches, though he only knows about two of them." He shrugged. "Some are just really out of the way."

"And they all go to Hogsmeade?"

"Most of them. Some go into the middle of the Forest, and others just stop. Probably meant to go somewhere, just didn't get finished."

They came out in a store room. Nym balked as they entered, seeing a rotund, balding little man rummaging among the crates, but Lupin stepped out boldly. "Hello sir," he said respectfully. The little man spun and dropped a crate in surprise.

"Lupin, my boy," he gasped. "Gave me quite a turn, you did. Shouldn't sneak up on people like that." But he was smiling by the end of his speech, which to Nym suggested he'd said it several times before. "And who's your little friend?"

"Minetta Nigellus," Lupin supplied without hesitating. He, like Sirius, was an excellent liar. Prongs seemed too noble to lie convincingly – although perhaps that just helped him get away with it. Wormtail was certainly too stupid. "A relative of Sirius's. Poor girl," he shook his head in sympathy. "Parents off touring the world. Left her at Hogwarts for the whole year."

"Ah well," said the man, nodding sagely, "perhaps it's all for the best. Troubled times like these, I know I feel better for being near to Hogwarts. But really, lad," he added, changing subjects suddenly, "the two of you shouldn't be here. I know for a fact that the next weekend isn't until January, so I do."

"We just came for the Christmas spirit," Lupin said with a wink to Nym as he beckoned her forward and up the some stairs on the other side of the cellar. "Nice chap, Mr. Honeyduke," he commented once they were out in the snow covered street. "Stopped kicking up a fuss when we appear in his cellar a long time ago. His wife, poor Mrs. Honeyduke, still panics every time we show up when it's not a Hogsmeade weekend."

"Is that often?" Lupin just grinned.

They walked through the village, Nym gawking openly. The scene was beautiful, something off a greeting card, with fresh white snow covering the ground thinly, and piled on the roofs and beside the doors. Holly and pine garlands festooned the windows, set with twinkling lights and glittering ornaments. Here, unlike Hogwarts, the spirit of Christmas seemed alive and well, as opposed to a little sickly.

Lupin opened the door to a cheery little building, with The Three Broomsticks written over the door in flowing letters. Nym entered an almost solid wave of heat, pulling her cloak back as she did. It was warm outside, for the season, but it was still very cold.

A rosy cheeked woman with holly around her hat greeted them with a smile. "Remus, how good to see you again."

"Merry Christmas, Rosmerta," Lupin answered. "Two butterbeers, if you don't mind."

"Of course." Almost before they were settled at a table beside an enormous Christmas tree she was back, with two frothing tankard, still smiling rosily. "The others well?"

"As ever," Lupin replied, taking a drink from his butterbeer. Nym tried hers tentatively, unsure of what to expect. The taste that greeted her was warm and delicious, getting rid of the last remnants of the outdoor cold which had settled into her fingers. "They send their seasons greetings."

Rosmerta beamed at him. "And who's your darling friend?"

"Ah, terribly sorry, went right out of my head." Lupin's grin at Nym told her he'd done no such thing, and he'd only been waiting for her to ask. "This is Minetta Nigellus, one of Sirius's relatives. Min, this is Madame Rosmerta." Nym murmured hello shyly. Rosmerta seemed very nice, and she seemed very fond of Lupin, but Nym was still a little afraid that someone would figure out who she really was, and drag her back up to the castle for more detentions than she could serve in a lifetime. But Rosmerta just smiled even more and said how delighted she was to meet her, and that she was welcome any time.

Rosmerta bustled away to see to the other customers. Lupin leaned back in her chair, relaxing in what was obviously a familiar setting. "See? No problems whatsoever."

"What if someone know the Nigelluses?" Nym asked, worriedly. "Wouldn't they know there wasn't a girl my age."

"I take it you don't associate much with your extended family," Lupin said.

Wondering how this was in any way relevant, Nym shook her head. "They're off touring the world," Lupin said. "And as everyone knows, they're old, upstanding pure bloods, related to Sirius. It seemed to fit."

"Sirius is a pure blood? But I thought… he seemed so different from those stuck up kids in Slytherin." She felt like he'd just shoved a knife in her stomach and twisted it around. Her cousin, her wonderful cousin, one of those horrid pure bloods. Lupin had just marred what she knew as the closest thing to the perfect family.

Lupin seemed reflective. "Do you remember the day we met?" he asked.

"I'd just broken my arm, falling off my broom," Nym said. She didn't want to remember that. She had looked like a clumsy oaf in front of Sirius and his friends.

"Being thrown off your broom," Lupin corrected gently, "by a spell Regulus put on it. Do you remember him?" Nym nodded, slightly. She didn't really remember him. He'd just been an unconscious heap that Sirius had dragged off before she got a really good look. "He's Sirius's little brother. As far as their parents are concerned, he's also the better brother." He shook his head, a little sadly. "Sirius never saw eye to eye with his parents. They're very much the pure bloods. All the Blacks are. They disown any of their number that don't agree. The blood traitors." He put a special emphasis on the last phrase. Not as if he didn't like blood traitors, but as if he found it a dirty, disgusting term.

"Blood traitors?" Nym asked hesitantly.

"Like Sirius, and your mother."

Nym fought down the feeling of nausea. She'd always known her mother was on the outs with the rest of her family. But disowned, cast out… for what? For marrying her father, a muggle? Or had that come later? "What did they do?" she asked. Suddenly she had to know. What sort of family was she part of? She couldn't be like those awful kids in Slytherin, who strutted around as if they owned the place, glaring at anyone who wasn't magical through and through.

"Sirius just didn't get on with his parents. He left home… oh, about two years ago, now. Your mother, you must know, married a muggle-born. As bad as a muggle, as far as her family was concerned."

"My father," Nym said, "is a muggle."

"Ted Tonks? He isn't," Lupin said indignantly. "He went to Hogwarts with your mum."

"But mum always said…" Why did he have to break her world into these little pieces that made no sense? Her life might not be ideal, but it was hers, and it made some sort of sense. Now it didn't. Unless Lupin was lying. But why would he? Everything he said made sense. She'd just been too blind to see it before. "Why would my mum say he wasn't?" she asked miserably.

"Drink up," Lupin said, nudging her tankard towards her. He took a reflective sip of his own. "Can't say, really. I'm sure she had her reasons. She may well have hoped you wouldn't make it into Hogwarts. Then you could live your life out as a muggle, and never get involved with the war."

Nym choked on her butterbeer. She coughed, trying desperately to get air. Lupin was out of his chair in an instant, pounding on her back until she stopped coughing. He leaned over to look her right in the eyes. His were very kind eyes, though much older than they should been. Fine wrinkles already framed them, and his lashes, she noted even in the dim light of the pub, were gray like his eyes. Oddly, she noticed his smell. It reminded her of a dog, though not quite unpleasant. "Are you alright?" She nodded.

"What war?" she asked quietly. He told her. He spoke quietly for the better part of an hour, about Voldemort and the Death Eaters, the attacks on muggles and muggle-borns, on blood traitors and half bloods. "Even though he uses half bloods in his forces," Lupin added bitterly. When he was finished, he added, "I'd say that's why your mum wouldn't let you come home over Christmas. We suspect her sisters are Death Eaters, or married to them."

"We?" Nym couldn't quite take in all he'd said. Why had no one told her? Why hadn't she noticed?

"Those of us working with Dumbledore against them."

There was silence for a long time. Finally, Nym could keep it no longer. "What should I do?" she asked. Lupin seemed to have all the answers. He had to have one for this question. She didn't know what she'd do if he didn't.

"Stay at Hogwarts, go to lessons, do your homework. Keep a low profile and try to stay out of the way." He reached across the table and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "You're too young to do anything else, Nym. Your mother wanted you protected, and that's what we're going to do. Me and Sirius and James."

"Not Wormtail?" Nym asked, trying a lame joke.

Lupin gave her a sharp look. "Call him Peter. Too many pranks have our nicknames attached to them." But then he smiled. "No, not him. He'll be hard pressed to take care of himself." He glanced at his watch. "Perhaps we'd best be getting back to the castle. It'll be supper time soon." He stood and Nym followed.

As Lupin reached for the door handle, the door swung open to reveal Professor Prewett, covered in snow and backed by the swirling snow that had started to fall outside.

Momentarily forgetting her disguise, Nym stepped back in shock, and tripped over a chair leg. Down she fell, taking the chair with her, until she was hopelessly entangled in it. Several patrons looked over to see what the fuss was. Seeing only a clumsy little girl, blushing prettily, they turned back to their own business.

"Afternoon, Remus," Professor Prewett said, nodding to Lupin. He knelt next to Nym. "You've done a good job on this spell, Lupin. No one could possibly recognize her." He helped Nym to her feet. "Feeling alright, Nym?" his eyes twinkled in merriment.

"How did…" Nym gasped. That was the end of it, then. He'd recognized her. She had a mental picture of herself, thirty years old and writing lines in the Transfiguration classroom.

"I know no one else," Professor Prewett said with a small smile, "who is quite so chronically clumsy. And, of course, you're the only other Gryffindor still at Hogwarts." His finger made a small motion towards her school crest, just visible under her cloak.

"Oh," Nym said quietly. Now what? Was he going to haul her up to the castle by the ear, the way her mother had taken her to her room when Nym had been caught sneaking cookies?

"Have a good evening, sir," Remus said politely. What? Was he just going to leave her like this? Hadn't he been the one who talked her into this? His fingers closed around her wrist and he pulled her – just a little – out into the snow.

"You too," Professor Prewett called, just before he closed the door.

Nym felt her knees go weak with relief. He'd let her go. He hadn't done anything. "Worried?" Lupin asked with a grin. Nym nodded. Words didn't begin to describe how worried she'd been. Being caught away from Hogwarts was grounds for expulsion. What would she have done if she'd been kicked out? Lupin laughed. "Don't worry about it too much. Professor Prewett's really good about stuff like this. Used to sneak off the grounds a lot himself."

"He told you that?" Nym gasped. Professor Prewett had always seemed very nice, if a bit distant. That was understandable, though, because he didn't teach Nym anything. But never had she imagined him, or any of the teachers for that matter, disobeying the rules as youths. She'd never even considered they'd been young once.

"Course not. Can't go around telling students that sort of thing, they'll get ideas." Lupin was grinning again. It was the grin that always seemed a bit wolfish to Nym. "We broke into the school records at one point. Together, his file and his brother's are almost as thick as one of ours."

"One of yours," Nym repeated. She'd like to get a look at those records one day. The boys sometimes talked about things they'd done, but Nym was sure what they told her didn't even begin to scratch the surface.