'The ache for home lives in all of us.'

Maya Angelou

Darcy, Emily, and Carla are some of the last students to exit the Hogwarts Express. Muttering amongst themselves about having to share a carriage with other students, Darcy tries to find Harry or his friends to share one with them so they won't have to be with anyone else. After a few minutes, Carla pulls Darcy towards the remaining carriages, climbing into an empty one. Darcy sighs, offering Carla's hand, pulling her into the carriage with Max's cage tucked under her arm. She watches the Thestral pulling their carriage snort and dig its hooves into the soft earth beneath it as Emily joins them, sitting down close to Darcy. When the carriage sways with added weight, Darcy turns quickly to see who it is that will be sharing with them, half-expecting Gemma. To her surprise, it's Professor Lupin, giving all three of them a small smile as he takes a seat beside Carla.

"Er—" he laughs nervously. "I hope you don't mind."

Darcy shakes her head. "No."

Carla looks him up and down and Lupin gets comfortable before introducing himself to her. She shakes his hand for only a second before looking at her friends, sighing heavily, and staring out at the grounds through the carriage's windows. Darcy looks back towards the Thestral again as it begins to move, its hooves sticking in the mud with each step.

The carriage ride is awkward and quiet for a few minutes. The quiet presses on Darcy like a heavy blanket. Darcy had planned on using this time to gossip freely about other people, but she thinks that with a professor in tow, maybe it's not such a great idea. She watches the other carriages ahead of them, moving slower than usual with the muddy road, all the while keeping an eye out for more dementors. Lupin seems to feel equally uncomfortable, and he clasps his hands together in his lap, looking around at everyone. Darcy gives him a quick sideways look before turning away again. Emily's eyes are closed, her arms crossed over her chest, one leg draped over her other.

"How are you feeling?" Lupin asks.

No one answers. Darcy turns to see who Professor Lupin is talking to, but is met by Emily's fiery stare, her eyebrows raised as if expecting an answer from her friend. Darcy fidgets and finds that Lupin is looking directly at her. "Oh—me?" she says, clearing her throat and sitting up straighter. "Fine—I'm fine, thank you. The chocolate helped."

"Good. A handy thing to have on you when there are to be dementors so close."

"Thank you for the advice," Darcy answers, giving him a forced smile. "I'll be sure to remember that."

They look at each other for a little bit longer and Darcy sizes him up. Lupin looks away, out towards the castle. Darcy, Emily, and Carla exchange meaningful looks, finally shrugging their shoulders, knowing that their gossip will just have to wait until the morning. They all look out of the windows at the grounds, the carriage tossing them about, the thestral slowing every few minutes to get situated. With Darcy's long legs stretched out in front of her, she and Lupin's shoes bump whenever one of them moves, and the both of them mutter soft apologies before readjusting.

It isn't until Darcy's eyes tire of staring at the thestral's silky black tail that she looks away, chancing another glance at Lupin. She narrows her eyes, thinking hard, and Lupin notices her gaze, looking at her with a single raised eyebrow. He looks to Carla nervously, but she doesn't seem to be paying much attention.

"Have I done something?" he asks, chuckling quietly. "Or perhaps you're trying to penetrate the deepest corners of my mind?"

"No, I just—" Darcy sighs, defeated. She crosses one leg over her other, leaning back in her seat, her shoulder brushing up against Emily's. For the hundredth time that evening, she looks him over, studying his face. "Are you sure we haven't met before?"

Lupin shrugs, shaking his head. "I'm sure."

"Absolutely positive?"

"Absolutely positive," Lupin repeats, laughing. "You must be mistaking me for someone else."

"You look very familiar."

"You're not the only one who says so. I suspect it must be my face. A common face, some have called it. Plain." Despite his slightly bitter words, there's a smile on his face.

"That's not very kind of them," Darcy frowns. Though she continues to look suspiciously at him, she drops the matter. "What happened in the compartment? With Harry and the dementor?"

"The dementor just got a little too close to Harry," he replies. "I'm sure he's feeling fine, just a little shaken up. I don't blame him."

"Did you make the dementor go away?"

Lupin hesitates for a moment, mouth half open, then nods. He leans back in his seat and shrugs. "Yes, I did."

"How did you do it?" Emily asks, suddenly interested in nothing but the conversation. This even sparks Carla's interest, and the three girls lean in towards him, eager to hear his reply. "Did you cast a Patronus? What form did it take? Are you going to teach us?"

Lupin flashes a wide grin at all of them, rendered temporarily speechless. "I—I mean—haven't you learned—?"

"We didn't have a great teacher last year. Dumbledore must have told you about him," Carla explains. "So we didn't really learn much of anything. It was all theory really—obviously because Professor Lockhart probably wouldn't have been able to show us the actual spells, and even that wasn't very good."

"But he was very nice to look at," Emily interrupts, giving Lupin a very serious look. "An absolute nightmare, but very handsome."

Lupin looks at Darcy and they both smile and share a quick laugh before Carla turns in her seat to face him. He turns his attention back to her, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as she talks and talks and talks. "Professor Lockhart himself said that we were the best class he'd ever had, so if you teach them Patronuses, then you'll have to teach us—I'm sure we can handle it."

As Carla continues to chatter, Darcy notices him wiping his palms on his pants, patched and worn. Now that she really looks at his clothing, she sees that it's not just his pants—his cloak is shabby and clearly very old, and he looks, for lack of a better word, ill and shrunken underneath his clothes. Perhaps in need of a few days' rest.

"I'll consider it," Lupin finally says, taking advantage of the silence during which Carla takes a deep breath, readying herself to continue talking. "To be honest, I still have a lot of planning to do, but I appreciate any suggestions should they come to you."

"So, what was it like?" Darcy asks, crossing her arms over her chest. "Your Patronus?"

"It was only one dementor," Lupin answers, a pink tint to his cheeks. "I didn't need to conjure a fully fledged Patronus to get rid of just one."

"I've never seen a Patronus before," Darcy says, lurching with the carriage as one of the wheels finds itself in a large hole.

"Maybe that's not such a bad thing," he tells her, his voice quieter than before.

"You will teach us though, won't you?" Emily presses him. "Don't you think it's necessary now given the—special circumstances?"

Lupin purses his lips, considering this, but he doesn't reply. Emily and Carla talk freely then, as they've become more comfortable with him in their presence. Every so often, he pushes his hair out of his face, brushes off the sleeves of his jacket, and clears his throat.

Darcy and Lupin steal glances at each other for the rest of the carriage ride, looking away quickly upon catching the other's eye, and Darcy begins to long for the warmth of the Great Hall, desperate to be inside and away from the dementors outdoors. They've cast a shadowy fog upon the grounds, causing it to be chillier than normal, but it isn't a normal kind of chilly. It's one that chills Darcy's bones, one that slowly begins to freeze her insides, and relief sweeps over her as the carriage slows to a halt before Hogwarts.

Swept up in the crowd of students, Darcy and Emily bid Carla goodnight and are shuffled into the Entrance Hall. They take a seat at the Gryffindor Table beside two other girls a few years below them, who are deep in conversation, ignoring Darcy and Emily completely.

As everyone settles into their seats, what seems like a hundred first years file over the threshold of the doors to the Great Hall, looking like deer in headlights. Their faces are ghostly white and a little sweaty, their eyes wide in amazement.

"It's going to take forever for the feast to begin," Darcy grumbles to Emily. "And I swear they're smaller than ever this year."

"Yeah?" Emily joins Darcy, looking around the corner of the staircase. "Remember Mabel tried to give herself tits in our first year?"

Darcy snickers. "She could've just stuffed her bra like you did."

"I was eleven years old," Emily retorts defensively. "Of course I stuffed my bra."

The Sorting seems to drag on forever, with Professor Flitwick calling names instead of McGonagall. Darcy and Emily whisper to each other the entire time, clapping eagerly when someone is Sorted into Gryffindor. First year after first year after first year and Darcy's stomach growls loudly as the line starts to thin. She takes a quick look down the table, looking everyone over a few times before catching sight of Ron and hissing his name a few times to get his attention. When he finally looks at her with eyes that seem glazed over, he hisses back, "What?"

"Where's Harry?" she whispers, glancing up again towards the Sorting, making sure that there are no teacher eyes focused intently upon her. None seem to be paying attention, so she looks back at Ron. "And Hermione?"

Ron shrugs, clearly irritable due to how long the Sorting is taking. He looks back towards the thinning crowd of first years and crosses his arms over his chest, groaning to George about something, who's sitting next to him. Darcy sighs, watching the large doors to the Great Hall for a few moments, hoping to see Harry walk through them in that instant.

"I'm sure he's fine," Emily says, leaning in closer to Darcy. She raises an eyebrow as three first years remain to be Sorted. "God—awful lot of Hufflepuffs this year, aren't they?"

Darcy nods, but hasn't been paying much attention to notice. Now that she looks around the Great Hall, she notices that the Hufflepuff table does seem more crowded than usual. Darcy inwardly thanks the Sorting Hat for allowing her elbow room at the table while still giving Gryffindor House a decent number of new students.

After the last first year is Sorted into Slytherin, Darcy's eyes follow Professor Flitwick as he brings the Sorting Hat and the rickety old stool out of the Great Hall, and just as he passes over the threshold, two familiar faces walk in, hurrying towards the table. Harry must feel Darcy's hard stare because he immediately finds her in the sea of Gryffindors, eyes wide in a where have you been kind of way. He shrugs and takes his seat next to Ron. Darcy goes to stand up, but Dumbledore stands to give his usual start of term speech and Emily grabs her arm and pulls Darcy back into her seat.

"Welcome!" Dumbledore booms and Darcy's stomach growls even louder. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast…"

"I hope he does it quickly…" Emily moans, her stomach roaring along with Darcy's. It seems that they aren't alone, either. All around them, people clutch their stomachs, fidgeting in their seats, eager to have the delicious Hogwarts food appear in front of them, ripe for the picking.

"As you will be aware," Dumbledore continues, putting an end to all the whispering again, "after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

"A casual way of putting it," Darcy mutters, shivering as she remembers the coldness of their compartment on the train after the dementor tried to enter. She tries to read Dumbledore's face, but whatever his true feelings are on the subject, it's unclear to her. He smiles encouragingly at all of his students, hoping not to scare them too terribly, Darcy assumes.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," he continues, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises—or even Invisibility Cloaks…" His eyes sweep the Great Hall. "It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors."

Darcy slowly tunes out, watching Dumbledore without listening, eyelids growing heavier, lightheaded from hunger. She notices Dumbledore nod towards Lupin and he stands, smiling warmly at everyone in the Great Hall. Emily claps along with all the others and Darcy joins in a little late, meeting Lupin's eyes for a split second before he sits and the applause comes to a halt.

The second appointment shocks Darcy. She shakes her head slightly and tunes in to Dumbledore again, hoping to catch the end of his statement.

"...I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

Hagrid blushes furiously and stands, just as Lupin did, giving an awkward wave to the crowd at large. Behind Darcy, who claps loudly for her friend, Harry, Ron, and Hermione wolf-whistle and give Hagrid a standing ovation. Darcy beams at Hagrid as he finds her at the Gryffindor table, and Dumbledore settles the students again, announcing the start of the magical feast.

First years sitting around them gasp audibly as all kinds of deliciously prepared meals spring into life, appearing on the long tables. Darcy breathes in deeply, readying herself, mentally preparing herself for the amount of food she's about to shovel into her mouth. She takes a little bit of everything—sausages, lamb chops, tuna, slices of bread and butter, beans—whatever she can get her hands on, she eats, and for the first few minutes of the feast, Darcy and Emily eat in silence, hardly able to breathe through the amount of food they're eating.

Come dessert, Darcy eats a little less, only able to eat two small slices of pie before feeling the need to purge. When forks and knives clatter on empty plates and sighs sound around the room, Dumbledore takes this as his moment to finish his speech. The desserts on Gryffindor table disappear as suddenly as they had appeared and Darcy soon wishes she was under the blankets of her bed, in the stage between asleep and awake, the cool air of her dormitory on her face.

As usual, Dumbledore wishes them all the best of luck, urges them to be careful, and sends them off to bed. Darcy and Emily continue to sit at the table for a few minutes, allowing the rest of their fellow Gryffindors to force their way to the Great Hall before attempting the excursion themselves. Darcy dreads the trip up to Gryffindor Tower, unsure if she'll even be able to walk without feeling excessively full.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron zoom right past Darcy and she watches them race up to the teachers' table, stopping in front of Hagrid with brilliant smiles on their faces. Darcy and Emily stretch and yawn obnoxiously, joining their three friends before leaving the Great Hall for the night.

"Congratulations, Hagrid!" Hermione shrieks, a wide grin plastered to her face.

"A real shame I don't take Care of Magical Creatures anymore," Darcy sighs contently, holding out a hand and allowing Hagrid to grasp it with both of his. Darcy puts her other hand on top of his, tiny compared to his own. "But I'll make it a point to come visit more often, Hagrid."

"Yer always welcome round my place," Hagrid smiles, eyes filling with tears. "All of yeh."

Professor McGonagall soon curtly ushers Darcy, Emily, Harry, Ron, and Hermione from the Great Hall, the teachers filing out past them, talking quietly amongst themselves. When the five of them are alone, with no one surrounding them, Darcy speeds up and walks backwards, facing Harry with a very stern look on her face.

"Where the hell were you?" she asks, her lips pursing. "You missed the Sorting."

"I didn't want to go," Harry grunts, rolling his eyes at his sister. "They took me up to the hospital wing and then Hermione needed something with McGonagall—doesn't seem like I missed much, though."

"Sorting Hat did a nice song this year—different than usual—"

"Not like you two were actually listening," Ron snorts. "Is talking all you guys do?"

Darcy and Emily laugh. Darcy falls back into the step with the rest of them and they chat and giggle and gossip until they reach the portrait of the Fat Lady. The door revealing the Gryffindor common room is already open, allowing passage to three nervous looking first years. It's incredibly warm in the common room, a fire already roaring, and the knowledge that there's a warm bed upstairs waiting for her to crawl into provides Darcy with a happiness that she hasn't felt in months.