Hello everyone, hope you're all doing well and taking care! These are weird times, after all. I don't really have anything else to add, except that I've actually really REALLY enjoyed writing this chapter. It's also a lot longer than the others!


Papillon by Henri Charrier

June took a long drink of pumpkin juice before she began. Sarah watched her with some amusement. She shuddered as the cold pumpkin juice went down her throat.

"Do you drink, Williams?" asked Sarah.

"I'd like to start," said June, surprising even herself.

"Lovely," said Sarah. "Begin from the beginning."

June sighed. "I don't – I don't know how it happened, really. I ended up with his – erm, that is, his transfiguration book. Lucky it was transfiguration. He's good at that, doesn't miss it."

"Yes, because that was what we were all worried about," said Sarah. "God forbid Sirius Black is less than perfect at his transfiguration."

"You laugh, but it would be a proper tragedy for some of the girls," said June darkly.

Sarah looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"What?" asked June.

"Nothing," she said with a smile.

"Anyway. Why didn't you just take your book back, once you realised?"

"I wanted to, believe me," said June, with as much earnestness as she could muster. "I really am not – not – not… one of the girls who… erm, dreams after him. I don't! I just – he was reading the book, and he seemed – I don't know – interested. And then – and then – the next thing I know – I left him a Christie."

This speech seemed to have taken something out of her. Sarah surveyed her critically.

"Alright."

"Alright?" asked June.

"I believe you. But you have to be careful, Williams. He could know it's you any time if he glanced at your handwriting."

"God, I know," groaned June. Her head dropped into her arms.

"There, there," said Sarah, biting a laugh. "It's not terrible."

"But it is," said June. "You know it is! What am I doing, writing him notes, leading him on? What on earth is wrong with me? Why would I want to strike up a friendship with him, of all people?"

Sarah's brows disappeared into her fringe. "What do you mean, notes? Have you been exchanging letters as well?"

June went pink. She nodded.

"Ah," said Sarah.

June moaned.

"No – it's not – it's not that bad. You were just doing something nice, Williams. You just have to avoid him, don't you?"

"Easier said," murmured June. "I used to be – I don't know – I'm good at – wallflowering, do you know?"

June had never seen Sarah Freegood look so amused. "Yes."

"And now…"

"I will admit, if you are friends with him, it might even get worse," added Sarah sagely.

"What?" said June sharply. "Why?"

"Because you're friends with him," reasoned Sarah. "I don't know if you have noticed, but he doesn't have lot of female friends."

"What about – what about Lily?"

"If you think Evans is his friend, you really need to take stock of your observation skills, Williams," said Sarah.

"Fuck," said June. "Fuck."

"I have never heard you swear."

"I do it a lot," said June, honestly. "In secret."

"Ha. I knew it."

"Shut up."

"No."

June glared at her.

"To think Warren was the good reason for me uncovering all this," crowed Sarah.

"I don't think he minded switching seats," said June absently, still preoccupied with her problems. "Julia Stinton has been going out with him last few weeks."

Sarah raised her eyebrows. "She has?"

"Yes," said June, lamenting the loss of her invisibility. "Didn't you know?"

"In any case," said Sarah. "You'd better switch your seats in other classes as well and sit with me. Your handwriting is a giveaway."

"Is it?" asked June.

"Oh, yes," said Sarah. "He's studying your handwriting like a cursebreaker from Gringotts."

"Fuck," repeated June.

Unfortunately, one of Sarah's predictions came true – June wasn't being watched or followed by his fanclub, as it were, but she was being noticed from time to time. Sometimes with a sense of curiosity, sometimes with open interest, and other times, just because.

June – unused to being noticed, became very conscious. The lucky thing was, Sarah – in her own no-nonsense way – managed to protect her. She was there in most of her classes, and she didn't seem to be taking June's advice or opinion before she switched June from her seats. Having Sarah sit with her was a convenient way to avoid anyone noticing her handwriting too much – a thing she had to protect with her life now, it seemed. They sat next to each other in class, which is why they ended up walking to a lot of their classes together – and inevitably, people paid her less attention because she was with someone, and that someone wasn't Sirius Black.

It also helped that she met Black mostly at the library lately, although the sanctity of her corner had been violated. She had noticed that thanks to Black, there were girls hovering near her spot – previously untouched by society.

"Oh, for crying out loud," she muttered under her breath, as she spotted the fourth person to wander in this section. It was a section about caring for toadstools, so she had no idea why people were here to begin with.

"What's up?" asked Sirius, engrossed in his book.

"I know you're used to it," said June, jabbing her thumb at the girl who was perusing the slicing of Asiatic toadstools. "But I – I cannot."

She was a little more articulate around him, but not by much.

Sirius looked at the girl. "Oh," he said. "Well, she isn't close enough for me to tell her to shove off," he said reasonably. "But as soon as she is, I will."

"Alright," said June.

"You bothered?" he asked, his brows knitting with concern.

"Not used to it," said June, rolling her shoulders with discomfort.

"I guess I don't notice it anymore," said Sirius.

June glared at the girl, who was conspicuously peeking at Sirius through South Asian Toadstools and Stem Care. She wasn't typically a very violent person. But this was one thing too much for her this week. She didn't even have to whisper it – she cast the trip jinx nonverbally, and the girl toppled off.

June turned back to her Charms essay, her face hidden behind her bangs. Sirius seemed ready to burst with laughter, but he wrestled it down to a smile and turned back to his book.

The girl hopped off, clutching her book on toadstools. June finally glanced up, to find Sirius looking at her proudly.

"Well done," he said.

She hated herself for it, but she coloured with pleasure.

Sarah found the time she spent with Sirius Black outside of writing letters and exchanging books even funnier. She would not stop teasing June about it – and as the only person who actually knew the identity of the 'reader,' June could not even stop her. She bore it with as much magnanimous patience as she could – occasionally snapping back. But this just made Sarah pleased, and more combative than ever.

By the time she got her next letter from Sirius back – detailing all of his questions about the world of Earthsea, about the way the story was written, about the history of fantasy writing – June felt comfortable enough to just tell Sarah about the letter. It was a nice one, after all:

Dear Reader,

Do muggles often write about magic? It seems amazing to me that they could have thought up a whole world of magic, a whole world in which they don't exist – simply because. Do you think it's because we already have magic, that we don't have to imagine as much as the Muggles do?

If I sound excited, it's because I am. Six years of Muggle Studies has not been as much fun as it has been reading the books you give me. It keeps prompting questions in me – do we even have it in us to hide from them if they have the capability to imagine this much? The story she wrote was two steps away from being Hogwarts itself. How do we know if they have not imagined this story already? At times, it feels like it would be something of a boring story – what do we spend our time doing, except, perhaps, going for classes? I don't see why muggles would be interested in our Charms essay, but there you are. She spent all this time writing about Ged's classes, and I enjoyed it.

I could read your thoughts in the corner of the writing. It made me think, too. I had not considered some of the things you did – where were the women of the story? Has she written more? It seems strange that she would write such a lot about boy's schools and nothing about women. Women have magic, but she says its inferior. I know what you thought of that, of course – you had written that you found it interesting that the more domestic magic is made lesser, but that is always by the male characters of the story. Do you think she did that deliberately? Does she ever bring it up again?

Thank you for the book, regardless. I sound breathless in this note. I will stop before I embarrass myself further.

Best,

S

She hadn't let Sarah read it – despite her being painfully curious about the contents. She had summarised it a little, and Sarah had laughed. "Trust you to make Sirius Black interested in reading."

"I didn't do it!"

"That will hold up in front of the Wizengamot, Williams," said Sarah, scratching out something from her essay. "'I didn't do it!'"

June glared.

"Anyway, do you have a copy of the new book, by chance? The Mills and Boon. It was an Intrigue," asked Sarah. "The one that came out this summer."

"No?"

"Oh. It's good. I'll ask mother to post my copy, you should read it."

Sarah said all of this as tonelessly as possible, which was what shocked June. She was able to discuss bodice rippers with the meditative calmness of a saint.

She had introduced Sarah to Hagrid. One of the nice things about having someone who knew her secret correspondence was that she could read around Sarah, and not have to pretend that she didn't know much about books. Sarah herself liked reading – she didn't read as much as June, but she enjoyed murders and romances in good measure. They discussed harlequins and bodice rippers – books that she would never, ever admit to Sirius Black that she liked.

"I'm glad yer making friends, June," said Hagrid heartily, when she came alone to his hut once. "And I like this Sarah."

She nodded, carefully avoiding the topic of just how she had become friends with him. Anyway, she was still using his cottage too often to sneak away for some reading time. Or, on this occasion, to write a long letter without being noticed by her dorm mates.

She wrote a reply to Sirius – with a long, slightly chatty letter about the fantasy trend in Muggle literature. Then, she spoke of a long history of wizarding literature, detailing the way the printing press had been used in wizarding history. She talked about the lack of a cohesive wizarding public before the twentieth century, and how that sort of thing seriously hampers the kind of writing that can come. She didn't know where she had found it in her to give all this information – but it was almost easy. It was easy to tell him about Tolkien, and Terry Brooks, and Ursula Le Guin. She told him honestly that she didn't have a copy of anything beyond The Tombs of Atuan, but if he wanted to know how she wrote women, she could lend him that one next. She had given him Papillon in exchange for A Wizard of Earthsea, where she had responded to his letter about My Family and Other Animals. She would have to give this reply along with the next book – The Tombs of Atuan, she promised herself.

She was surprising herself a little, by all these theories that she had of literary history in the wizarding world. She didn't know she knew so much.

October was coming to an end by the time she had given him Papillon. The Ravenclaw and Gryffindor match had gone in Gryffindor's favour, and it was heard that James was making everyone practice endlessly for the one against Slytherin which was to take place in November. Thankfully, Sirius wasn't on the team – and hence not busy with Quidditch. She wanted to know what he thought of Papillon. This fact shocked her, and she had a meltdown near Sarah, who only laughed.

In the middle of this, the first Hogsmeade weekend was announced. June didn't usually care much about that sort of thing. She had never dreamed to make any plans with anybody whatsoever. She thought she might slip to the village and head to Scrivenshaft's, for some new notebooks and quills. She had also thought she might browse the shelves of Jobber & Knoll. She was well stocked for this year; she had worked very hard over summer, after all. But she enjoyed looking through the shelves.

She was unused to have friends. She didn't tell anyone of her plans, and no one told her of theirs. The weekend dawned, and June packed off to the kitchen to prepare a lunch for herself. She didn't usually have enough to do anything more than buy some chocolates at Honeydukes.

She trudged off to Hogsmeade by herself. The sea of students heading to the village was jabbering amongst themselves – discussing some of the war, thinking through their assignments and classes. June was trying to get out of the crowd as soon as possible, because she really wanted to read for sometime.

She made a beeline for Jobber & Knoll, while almost everyone else headed to Zonko's. Some students seemed to be heading to the book shop as well, but they were few and far in between.

There was a variety of Wizarding fiction, but most of it was travel writing. That sort of thing had started in the 17th century, but the trend had continued – June didn't care much for travel writing. She had read Werewolves in Albany and Amongst The Fairies (Obscurus Books, 1789 and 1796) – but even the more recent travel writing didn't enchant her. Wizarding culture didn't seem to have developed writing trends as well as Muggle literature had – the more scattered nature of wizarding society was somewhere at fault, she knew. But magical publishers had printed some lovely editions of old Muggle books. She knew that the rarest first editions of Shakespeare weren't actually the Muggle publishers – but that of one of the first Wizarding printing presses' – then called Sterne & Scrolls.

She had frequently eyed the copy of Pride and Prejudice by Obscurus Books that had moving illustrations. It was enchanting. Of course, she loved her Grandmother's copy too much to actually dream of that sort of thing too much – so she turned away from it firmly. She was fingering a copy of Ghosts that was fairly out of her pocket when Sarah popped from behind the shelves.

"I knew you'd be here," said Sarah.

June – easily spooked – jumped out of her skin.

"You are going to give me something of a heart attack," she said crossly.

"I dream of the day, Williams," said Sarah, stepping from behind the bookshelf. "What are you looking at?"

"Ibsen."

"Who?"

Even Sarah, who read some of Muggle literature, could not be counted on to always know what June was talking about.

"Playwright," said June, by way of explanation.

"Oh. Any good?"

Just as June was about to answer, a carrying whisper came from the other side of the shelf.

"… I couldn't find anyone who might have a copy of Pride and Prejudice," said the whisper.

June's heart stopped. Sarah's eyes were wide – she peeped from behind the shelf for half a second.

'Evans,' she mouthed to June, who nodded.

"On the other hand, there's a rumour that I have turned romantic and am clearly hankering for a date," groaned Lily.

"Fascinating story, Lils," drawled Marlene. "Why are we here?"

"I thought we might go to the bookshop and have a look at who all come here. Black says the girl is still exchanging books with him, so she must be something of a bookworm."

Ah, yes. June had forgotten Lily was smart.

"You go that way," said Lily. "I'll check this section. Marlene, try to get into the back."

"He has a cute nephew running the shop, doesn't he?" asked Marlene. "Leave it to me."

This was the fourth or third time June had wished for the earth to open up and swallow her whole. The bitch refused to listen to her prayers.

"You hide behind me," hissed Sarah. "Come on, we'd better go."

They padded softly through the store, but just as they reached the counter, they saw Marlene flirting with the boy at the register.

"You go," Sarah said, through her teeth. "I'll stand in front of her. Distract, if needed."

June nodded. She felt her heart pump into her throat itself, while Sarah stood behind Marlene, holding a book. She signalled June to leave, and June burst through the bookshop. She thought, for a second, that Marlene turned to see who had left – but Sarah blocked her.

She panted as she reached outside, doubled up – wondering if she should wait for Sarah in plain sight.

"Williams?"

Fucking amazing.

Sirius Black and his friends stood in front of her, in all their glory. She was instantly aware of how tongue tied she was feeling.

"Um – erm. Er. Hi?"

"What are you doing?" asked James, looking at her curiously.

"I was – I was heading – I mean, I think I was – that is, I am – Scrivenshaft's," she finished.

Sirius smiled without any tell-tale arrogance. "Come with us, Williams."

Sarah popped out of the bookshop just then. "I headed her off, Williams – oh."

"Freegood," said Black by way of greeting.

"What do you want, Black?" asked Sarah.

"We were inviting Williams to come with us to Scrivenshaft's," said Sirius.

"And why would she want to do that," she said. She phrased it like a question, but it really didn't sound like one.

"Um –" began June.

"Would she rather be with you?" asked Sirius.

"Of course –"

"That's enough," said James, in a very uncharacteristic move. "Why don't both of you come? And we were going to go to The Three Broomsticks after."

"Oh, I brought lunch," said June, blankly. Sirius and Sarah frowned, but the moment passed. "Let's go to Scrivenshaft's."

Sirius walked in step with June, while Sarah glared at him. She walked with Remus Lupin, but June had noticed. She wasn't entirely sure what had happened between her and Sirius just then, but it was certainly very strange.

"Hey," said Sirius, jabbing her with his finger. "Why can't you come to The Three Broomsticks? Rosmerta runs the place now, and she gives me discounts." He smiled at her in the most disarming way possible.

"Oh – well, I can't afford it, Sirius," she said. It didn't really bother her to talk about it. Of course, no one had asked before this. She had a feeling it would make people uncomfortable – it never made her uncomfortable.

The situation with June's money was tricky. Living on scholarship was bad enough, but the scholarship rarely covered more than what you could get second hand. She didn't always have enough left over to do anything fun for herself – which was why she got summer jobs, took buses, earned her money to be able to buy books or chocolate. She never saved any to do – to do things with people. She'd never really had people to do things with.

But Sirius was frowning. Not in discomfort, but in perplexity.

"Why not?"

"Well," said June, feeling uncomfortable now. She was glad he was speaking to her separately – she didn't like giving away this much of herself to strangers. "My mum and dad don't pay for my education – or – or anything, for that matter. There's a little bit of a scholarship for students who can't afford to study here, but it's not really enough for – well – well, nice things."

She had considered asking Dumbledore if she could get a weekend job somewhere, but she knew he might increase her scholarship money. In any case, she didn't want for much more.

"It's alright," she added, reassuring him for some reason. "It's never – never bothered me. That is, I didn't – I didn't really have too many friends for it to be a bother. I usually save money," she added, rambling for good measure. "But I spend it on – on other things, because I didn't have anyone to spend it with, ever.

Now he was looking properly irritated. June wondered what she had said.

"You have friends now, Williams," he said gruffly.

"We're friends?" asked June, surprised.

She was having a hard time keeping track of his moods, but he looked annoyed.

"Yes," he said. "You're coming to the Broomsticks. You don't have to buy anything."

"Alright," said June, her heart swelling. "But also – I don't – I don't know your friends," she said in a hushed voice. "Can I join you some other time? I'll eat with Sarah."

"You really are something, Williams," said Sirius. "Suit yourself. Now come – I need a new quill. What are you here for?"

"I need a new notebook," said June. "I know just the one – it's at the back of the shop, college ruled – green cover, and –" she stopped. "What?" she asked. He was laughing. Mood swings of a girl on her period, thought June to herself.

"Perfect sentences, you notebook enthusiast."

She blushed red. "You know you are -!"

"I know," he said. He held her by her arm and began dragging her. She allowed herself to be dragged. "Show me your perfect notebook."

"And I picked just the right one, in budget," added June, in a huff.


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