Chapter 17:

Caring

Professor Lupin was, although a bit strange, a wonderful teacher. He took his time with them and unlike Lockhart, was actually interested in teaching them Defence Against the Dark Arts, as opposed to himself.

She could clearly remember the first class with the man.

They all sat, excited and nervous for the new Defence professor to begin. Slowly, he began to call out names, making sure to match the name with a face each time.

When he reached her name, however, instead of continuing right away, Professor Lupin stopped, just…staring at her for a moment. He blinked, seeming to snap out of…some sort of trance before moving on.

"Miss Potter, a word?" he requested as the students were packing up to leave. Taryn shot her a look, but Jessa just shrugged. She didn't have a clue either. Although, considering she'd learned more about Defence in the past lesson than all of last year, she didn't particularly mind staying after.

"Would you mind if I ask after your reaction to the Dementors on the train?"

She flushed. "I blacked out, Sir."

He just nodded. "Your brother fainted. Your reaction doesn't surprise me."

"Sir? How did you know?"

"I was in the same compartment as him."

"You said you weren't surprised though?"

"No. Dementors feed on the worst memories someone has. You both have horrors that many of your peers have never faced. Even if you don't remember it, it's there – and the Dementors can reach those memories, drudging them up to the forefront."

"Is there a way to defend against them? The Dementors, I mean?"

"There is, but as a second year, I don't know if you would be able to handle it. It's an advanced form of magic even adults have trouble with. While I do not doubt your abilities, as a second year, you are still learning magical basics. To attempt the type of magic needed to properly defend against a Dementor could be dangerous at this time."

"Oh. Is there anything I can do?"

"Do your best to stay away from them and when recovering, eat some chocolate."

"Now that I can do, Sir."

"Spoken like a true Potter."

Her brow furrowed. "Sir?"

He sighed, but answered, nevertheless. "I knew your parents. I was close friends with them, in fact. You look a lot like your mother. Except with your father's eyes…and eyesight, apparently."

"It's nice to hear about them. About someone who knew them."

"I can only imagine. Though I will say, I am surprised to see you housed in Slytherin."

"I know both my parents were in Gryffindor, Sir."

He nodded. "They were. As were most in our small friend group."

"Are you disappointed then, Sir?"

He looked shocked at her question. "I am not. Your father may have been, if only due to most of his family being Gryffindors. However, as long as you are happy and learning and safe, they'd be fine with it."

She nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, Sir. Thank you." She paused for a moment. "Would you tell me about them?"

"Another time. You have other classes to attend."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you."

Jessa was walking back from Herbology, talking with Taryn when she saw a group of third-years heading up the hill from Care of Magical Creatures. Namely, a group of Gryffindor and Slytherin third-years. Except they weren't all there. Some students had looks of anger, some laughter, and some worry.

"Harry?" she asked, sidling up to her brother's side. "What happened?"

A few heads turned sharply at her approach.

"We were in a lesson and Malfoy didn't listen to Hagrid. We were working with hippogriffs and he managed to antagonize one of them."

"Sorry, hippogriffs?"

"Half-eagle, half-horse. Anyway, Malfoy made one of them angry and got hurt. Hagrid took him to the hospital wing."

"Is he alright?"

"Who cares?"

She glared at Ron, before stalking off without further reply, heading straight for the Hospital Wing. However, she didn't enter right away. Instead, Jessa poked her head in, making a face when she saw a small group of other third-years with him, including Pansy Parkinson.

As she approached the group, the other girl sneered at her. "What do you want?"

"I heard a friend was hurt. I came to check on him."

"How'd you hear about it anyway?" a voice asked; cautious yet interested. She turned to see Blaise Zabini looking at her.

"I ran into my brother and the rest of your class on my way back from Herbology."

"One has to wonder where your loyalties lie. A Potter in Slytherin?"

"Parkinson, that's enough," Malfoy interrupted before Jessa could respond otherwise. "You should be happy I am not able to use both my hands right now, or else I would be wringing that fat neck of yours. This Potter is just as much a Slytherin as I am. I suggest you get used to it.

Stunned silence accompanied the short speech given in the sharp, cold tone. Jessa used this to her advantage and pushed through so she could actually see her friend. This time, not only did they let her through, but (smartly) left.

He wasn't as bad off as she'd feared. His arm was in a sling, hair mussed, and he was a bit paler than usual, but otherwise, he looked alright. Nothing a night in the Hospital Wing under Madame Pomfrey's care and a few days of rest wouldn't fix. Though she had a bad feeling even given magical healing, this was far from the end of it.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Anytime." Then he actually looked, and paused. "Jessa, you don't believe her, do you? I meant what I said. She's just jealous – "

" – jealous?" Jessa exclaimed incredulously, whipping around to face him. "Why on earth would Parkinson be jealous of me? I don't – I have nothing compared to her."

"C'mon, Jessa, that isn't true. You have Puecy and your brother. And me."

"What?"

"Parkinson's jealous of the attention I give you," he clarified. "We've grown up together, I happen to know she likes me as more than a friend. And then in you come and disrupt everything. Of course, she's jealous."

"Then why haven't you given up? Gone back to pretending I'm just another younger student? I don't…I don't understand why you'd – "

" – you're better than she is," he interrupted bluntly. "You're prettier and a much better conversationalist. I like spending time with you," admitted Draco, causing light red to appear high in his cheeks.

Jessa smiled up at him gratefully, eyes just a bit wet (though she wouldn't admit it).

"Now why don't you tell me what your brother said about class, and I'll tell you the correct version."

Rolling her eyes, she agreed, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed with a smile.