Edited as of 4/8/20
September 1, 1993
It was the last article of clothing to pack—at least she thought it was, though there was much doubt to when it would actually be worn. It was a Christmas sweater that Aunt Mara had knitted years ago and while it was comfy and quite colorful, she was unsure if Hogwarts was ready for the likes of her Aunt's sweaters. The regular students wardrobe color varied from black to brown, perhaps a speck of white from an unhidden button down.
The suitcase shut with a click and she triumphantly placed her hands on her hips, hoping there was nothing missing or forgotten. The clock to her right read 10:20; she wasn't running too late. A childish giggle made her movement still, looking to the burgundy nightstand sitting to the right of the bed.
It was a photograph—one of the only ones in the house that held a smidgeon of magic, allowing the figures to move as if a movie was held in her hands. She held it close to her heart, looking at the smiling faces of her parents.
Her mother, the woman who people still claimed her daughter was a duplicate of, had a scrunched up nose and a mischievous smile, green eyes aflutter with joy. Her father was doing his best to emit a laugh from the toddler, various laughable faces causing the toddler and wife to emit a laughter that rung through Eliza's ears.
She placed the photo back in its original place, mentally pushing away old memories that best remained unseen. There was no time to dilly dally on photos anyway, the urgency of the time at hand prompting her legs to get a move on and transport the suitcase to the front door.
It seemed Aunt Mara hadn't gotten the notice of urgency.
"We gotta go Mara! We can't be late!" A rumble of footsteps from the kitchen followed shortly after her yell and Mara appeared with a tired smile on her face and a biscuit in her hand.
"I was waiting for you, you lazy bum. Let's go! You miss that train and you'll find yourself helping me at work for the year and –-ah out the door she goes." Mara smiled to herself and shut the door, locking it with a twist and sitting next to her niece in the car.
"You know, one of these days I'll ask that Dumbledore fellow-"
"He's the Headmaster!"
Mara was a Muggle, so she'd never have the chance to see Hogwarts.
"Okay, Headmaster, to give me a tour of your school. I don't ever truly know where I'm sending you off once you run through that bloody platform and frankly you could be running off to hell knows where and I'm none the wiser." Mara gave her niece a pointed look as they drove down the street
Eliza gave her a shrug, "Oh yes Mara, I'm actually going to a back alley drug ring everyday and drinking whisky till sunrise."
Mara ignored her, "But since I can't do that I'm relying on you to send me an owl at least every two weeks, just so I know your okay." Mara gave her a smirk, "Or if there's anyone giving you trouble I need to wrangle."
Eliza gave her Aunt a look that read 'you can't do that Auntie but you never listen so who cares'. It was quiet for a few more minutes and then Mara decided she might as well ask some questions to pass the time. "So, are you taking anything interesting this year?"
Eliza thought about it for a moment.
"Well after Lockhart's extreme failure as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher last year, I assume we'll be getting a replacement that will hopefully teach us something more than how to sign autographs."
Mara snorted something that suspiciously sounded like a word that would get her a slap on the wrist. "And luckily there was a new class in Care of Magical Creatures, and Potions as always." And of course, Mara asked "And is Potions still taught by uhm, what's his name—Snoop?"
Eliza let out a wild laugh, "You damn well know its Snape. And he's…"
She paused for a moment to think of the right word to say. Was he mean? Not really, well at least to her. He wasn't cruel as most people liked to say, but he sure as hell wasn't kind.
He had a permanent look of disdain of his face that she was sure had been on his face since birth. But then again, he wasn't ever particularly harsh or unfair to her, nor her friends, and she truly had no reason to hate him as much as the rest of the school did. There were always rumors about his past, whispers accusing him of conspiring with Lord Voldemort and having been on the way to Azkaban, only being denied such a fate at Dumbledore's request. She tried not to listen to them, really.
"He's just Snape. Still teaching Potions in the Dungeons and still his angry old self." Eliza sighed.
She stepped out of the car and walked to the trunk, popping it open and grabbing her things.
Mara was behind her with a sorrowful smile—it was like this every time she left for the school year. It never got any easier to take herself away from Muggle London in her Aunt's flat and go back to the magic of Diagon Alley and Hogwarts—but she'd be a red-faced liar if she said she didn't miss it once in a while. And besides, having to do ones own laundry was a drag.
"You have everything? Not missing your wand or anything else you wizards use?" Mara stuffed her hands in her jumper and rolled on the balls of her feet.
"Yep. And I'll owl you if there's anything important or I've lost something or if I just miss home. C'mon, gimme a hug." The two women hugged at Platform 9, just halfway to Platform 10. It was sweet embrace that grew tighter just before they pulled away.
"Goodbye love, have fun!" Mara waved at Eliza and watched as he niece ran into a pillar wall, disappearing from sight.
Eliza came through to Platform 9 ¾, where it was bustling with students and parents alike who were all rushing to get themselves on the train. She apologized to more than a handful of people when they bumped into her and scowled at one particularly rude platinum haired woman who seemed to widen her eyes at her mere presence, though quickly scurried away into the crowd and away from Eliza's gaze.
A gaggle of red hair caught her attention and the familiar height of two red haired twins brought a smile to her face. Her steps raced forward and beamed when she caught Mr. Weasley's eyes, and he returned the smile.
"Elizabeth Jones! It's been ages dear, how have you been? Are the Muggles treating you right? Tell me, how was it been without the use of magic all summer?" Arthur turned to call his wife, "Molly! It's Elizabeth, come say hello."
Molly Weasley was one of the kindest woman know to the Wizarding World and treated her like she was one of her own, as if Eliza was a Weasley without the red hair. She had even offered Eliza a room in the Burrow if she truly ever needed it, which she never took but thanked her for the offer every time.
"Ah! Elizabeth!" Molly gave her a massive death like grip of a hug, "I feel like I haven't seen you in ages you look so much older and yet still so lovely. How have you been?"
A reply was on the tip of her tongue but the train let out a deafening blare that alerted the students that they needed to get in their seats. Moly laughed it off and spoke about next visits and wishing her a swell school year before ushering her off.
Getting onto the train was the easy part, but finding a seat amongst the endless rows of already taken compartments was quiet a difficult. It seemed that every goddam seat was full, or the mostly full ones were first years waiting for their second year friends and sneering with their eyes that the empty seat next to them was taken.
The back of the train was typically Slytherins and she just didn't feel like dealing with their overzealous attitude today. It was becoming clear the farther she went down that there was no hope for a free seat.
And then she saw it—well; it was close enough to exactly what she wanted. It must have been the last empty compartment, though it wasn't empty for there was a man—he was much to tall to be a student, and he seemed to be wearing some sort of suit that not even a Slytherin would dare wear.
He was sitting up and reading a book, nose so close to the page they were nearly touching. She tapped her finger on the glass and was taken aback when he promptly looked at her square in the face with his eyebrows raised in curiosity at the noise that had interrupted his reading.
He nodded and she beamed, sliding open the door and trying, but failing, to bring in her case and place it in the overhead compartment. She'd nearly given up when the man stood from his seat, a height much taller than her own, and effortlessly lifted her luggage overhead, securing it and sitting once more.
She sat as well, taking a good look at the man who had put away her heavy luggage. He was a striking man, with eyes that seemed to leave her frozen in place and a mouth that would do much better committing various sins on her person. Few scares littered his face, and she longed to kiss them away.
That thought jolted her rational brain, not understanding exactly why she'd want to kiss this stranger.
His clothes were rumpled and looked as if thrown on haphazardly, no sign of neatness on him for her to bear witness to. Her fingertips twitched with longing, wanting to fix his tie and comb through his dark crimson hair, wondering if it was smooth or rough like his scar ridden flesh. She'd only noticed now that his own eyes had been roaming her figure, a rosy blush covering her cheeks.
Luckily, he cleared his throat and uttered the first words of their meeting. "Hello there, a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Miss...?"
"Jones." She blurted her last name like it was a sin. "Elizabeth Jones, at your service, though my friends call me Lizzie." Her tongue peeked out to wet her dry lips. "And you are, Sir...?"
Shaking his head with a smile, "Just Remus will do, darling. And if you don't mind, I think I'll stick with Elizabeth. Is that alright?"
Eliza nodded with a small smile, liking the way he called her Elizabeth, as if purring her name, "Alright, Remus. Can I ask what you're doing on the train to Hogwarts? I don't believe your going as a student."
Remus leaned in and play whispered, "If I tell you, you must keep quiet as to not blow my cover. Can you do that Elizabeth?"
She eagerly nodded and tried not to squeeze her thighs together at the purr of her name, listening eagerly. "I was sent by personal request of Dumbledore, under his strict instructions to not speak a word of my mission to a single soul."
She watched his face, seeing the troubled look on his face, "Is something happening at Hogwarts?" A bubble of anxiety was trying to form in the pit of her stomach, rising up to her chest.
He shook his head, pieces of hair falling into his eyes, "Do not worry yourself Elizabeth, Hogwarts is safe and nothing will harm you or any other student while Dumbledore is in charge."
"I'm assuming you haven't heard about Hogwarts unfortunate findings in the girls lavatory last year?" Everyone knew about the Chamber of Secrets at this point.
A laugh erupted from his covered chest, "Oh yes, I've heard various tales of Gilderoy Lockhart and his unfortunate run in with a memory wiping charm." They both laughed and let their boisterous chuckles echo through the air.
Remus sobered up first, a look she couldn't discern crossing his face, "Are you quiet certain we have not crossed paths before? Your face is one I feel as though I've seen before."
She shook her head, "People tend to say I look just like my mother, perhaps you knew her. She might have gone to Hogwarts the same year as you did. Did you know Ismelda Jones?"
A bright look shown brightly through Remus's eyes, as if the missing puzzle piece had been found. "Right you are Elizabeth, you are mirror image of dear Ismelda." A finger tapped as Remus thought back to his younger days.
"Now, if I remember correctly, Ismelda was with Eton all through their schooling and went on to have you shortly after I became an Auror with James Potter and Eton. How long ago that was."
A melancholy look crossed his face, as if thinking of old memories was a task better left undone. Pleasantness had formed in the corner of her heart, wanting to hear more stories of Remus's life, yearned to lean over and have his whispers wash over her, learning secrets and stories of a life long past lived. But she knew when to give up and let the past die.
Remus cleared his throat, adjusting the coat on his shoulders, "Well my dear, I do believe it would be a wise time for myself to partake in a short rest. If anything comes up, just give me a shake."
She nodded and gave him a larger smile, watching him cover his form with the green cloak and give into sleep, leaving Eliza to the quiet loneliness of their train compartment. It gave her time to think about what the new year would hold, what she'd say when she saw her friends, and tried to not picture Remus's hands on her body.
The train was moving at full speed, the scenery changing from a vast array of grasslands and lush trees to open waters and misty skies.
Eliza was brought from her internal thoughts by the sound of the door sliding open; turning to greet whomever was joining halfway to Hogwarts. It was shock to see the three students who got in the most trouble; Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter.
Hermione Granger was known as the know-it-all, and Eliza had heard stories of the girls' antics in seemingly always knowing more than every Professor in the Hogwarts vicinity. Ronald Weasley was the youngest Weasley, but not the most up to no good Weasley, and was always seen with Harry Potter.
And well, Harry Potter was the Boy-Who-Lived; the student who'd spoke to snakes last year and had seemingly cheated death more than once. He was a slip of a boy with the lightening bolt on his forehead. Eliza tended to stay away from the younger years, but they clearly weren't asking to share with her and Remus.
Harry and Ron sat next to her, and Hermione next to Remus. The red haired third year turned to Eliza, "Haven't I seen you with my Mum?"
Eliza turned to him and nodded, "Yes Ron, I'm very well acquainted with your Mother. Is that a problem?"
Ron makes an odd disgruntled face before facing forward once more, whispering something unintelligible to Harry. This time it was Hermione who addressed Eliza, pointing to Remus but not touching him, "Who is this? He can't be a student."
"He's not and he's asleep, so if you would all please be quiet."
That effectively shut up the three 3rd years and allowed silence to overtake the small compartment, Eliza going back to watching the outdoor waters ripple with the train. Her curiosity was peaked when black streaks, much to fast for her eyes to see, seemed to tussle up in the sky, eventually moving overhead and out of her line of sight.
The train started to shake and she tried hard to think everything is fine its just water but the overhead lights flickering was enough to have her heart in her throat. She jumped back as a black streak shot by the window, the glass starting to freeze in its corners. An urge to lean over and shake Remus awake overcame every thought, wanting to hear him purr her name and chase away whatever was happening on the train.
Ron was the first one to start the hysterics, "Did you see that? Something's out there!"
Eliza tried not to agree, "Ron, please, let the conductor handle it and stay calm." He seemed to barely hear her, turning to Harry and mumbling more fears.
She happened to hear his next complaint, "What if it's Sirius Black? What if he's come to kill us?" and her brow furrowed at such a fear. What reason did Ron have to fear an Azkaban escapee?
Harry tried to shush his friend, to maybe stop him from having a panic attack, but the train lurching to a heart stopping halt had her scared.
Nothing could stop the Hogwarts Express. Now seemed like a time to wake Remus but her limbs felt as cold as ice, stuck in place and refusing to move, no matter how hard she tried. The overheard lights shut off, leaving the room is a darkness that frightened the four students, each not knowing what to do.
It was Ron's voice whispering, "Harry?" that gave Eliza the push to reach forward and tug on Remus's cloak, trying to get him to see what was happening, to help her. But he remained asleep, and her breath seemed stuck in her throat as a creature stood in the doorway to their compartment.
She'd be a fool to not know what had boarded the train—a Dementor, the protectors of Azkaban. It was said that those worthy of death in Azkaban received the Dementor's Kiss, meaning your soul was sucked out of your living body in a way that was almost unimaginable.
The sight of the Dementor was enough to freeze her bones, the boned hand reaching in from the obsidian cape to unlatch the door and step into the empty space. The room grew colder than a frozen sea and the wetness sitting on her lids turned to ice.
Hermione refused to even look at it, and Ron just blubbered next to her.
She'd expected the Dementor to move on, to see that none of them were threats to Hogwarts, to let them live, but only the lucky would seem to have such a fate.
Her eyes watch the face of the Dementor—though the face was just a gaping horrific hole that brought death and pain, and she'd defenseless when the pain starts.
It feels as though her entire being is in front of a vacuum cleaner, trying its best to suck out her insides, her very being, her soul. The pain was gradual and grew into a weight that was too much to carry, feeling any resistance die as her body lifted on its own, head falling back as consciousness faded in and out.
The picture on her bedside table played behind her eyelids, her parents smiling and laughing and her toddler self without a care in the world. It seemed easier to just watch the happy memory until it stopped.
A pair of arms wound around her midsection, pulling her back against a firm chest and the fragrance of dewy grass and a faint aroma she couldn't quiet place lulling her into a dreamless sleep.
It was Dumbledore's face that greeted her open eyes, his worn and wrinkled smile giving her the strength to sit up. The material under her hands was that of scratchy sheets, ones only used in the Hospital Wing and the odor of antiseptic rubs.
Madame Pomfrey flitted over to her side, "Dear girl, you shouldn't be awake, after all you've been through…"
Dumbledore nodded as well, "Elizabeth, it is with the utmost grief that I apologize for your encounter with that Dementor."
She tried to find her voice, "What was it doing on the train?"
"It was searching for Sirius Black." But that still left the question, "Then why did it attack me?"
He sighed and patted her shoulder, "Even creatures as intelligent as a Dementor make mistakes. Now please, do rest. Your friends are looking forward to seeing you."
She watched him exit the Hospital Wing and begrudgingly took the pain reliever from Madame Pomfrey, "I'll be back in the morning. Have a good rest, Jones."
And now she was alone, slumped against a white pillow and still in her day clothes from the train ride. The dark sky was visible through the long windows and she wondered how long she'd been out. She felt exhausted and hungry, but decided that staying in bed was her best option.
A pop of color caught her eye and she turned to see a piece of Zonko's butterscotch taffy sitting at her bedside, resting innocently in the moonlight. It brought a smile to her face; they were her favorite.
She chewed the sugary confection with a smile, watching the half moon from her bed.