Chapter 1
September 6, 1993
Hogwarts
Hermione found Hariel curled up, asleep in a small hideaway somewhere on the fourth floor on the eastern side of Hogwarts. She was shaking slightly; Hermione guessed she'd been crying. Gently, the bushy-haired witch shook her friend. Hariel groaned slightly but remained asleep. Smiling softly, Hermione pulled out a piece of parchment. She wrote a message to Ron. Then, she folded the parchment into a plane before casting a spell for it to find Ron Weasley. It was a simple charm she'd read about that the Ministry had designed as a replacement for owls inside the building; as wonderful as owls were, they really did make a mess.
Hariel mumbled something in her sleep and Hermione smiled again. The younger witch looked adorable when her face was eased of stress. Almost as if sensing her presence, Hariel rolled over and snuggled into Hermione's lap. The Shakespeare named teen blushed as her friend let out a contented sigh. She ended up staying like this for another few minutes before Hariel woke up.
Hariel opened her eyes to see the soft expression of Hermione before she realised how her friend was positioned. It didn't take long for the younger brunette to realise that her head was in Hermione's lap. Red-cheeked, Hariel shot up rapidly, spewing out apologies while the older brunette attempted to console her. Then, the most unlikely thing spilt out of Hariel's mouth.
"Professor Lupin's afraid of full moons," she said, leaving Hermione slightly confused, "d'you think he's a werewolf?" Hermione blinked, then she dug through her considerable knowledge base, recalling everything she knew about werewolves.
The first clue was the man's prematurely greying hair, something that only happened among magicals that were either involved in life-force consuming rituals or werewolves. Among muggles, it happened for other reasons, but magic kept those pesky things away from wizards and witches. Since Hermione was certain Professor Dumbledore wouldn't hire someone who delved in rituals like that, the latter option was likely the cause.
The second clue was the scars on his face. They resembled claws; no cutting spell, dark or not, could make marks like those. They must have been from a dark creature, and even then there were few that could not be healed with magic. It was almost certain. Professor Lupin was a werewolf. Hermione turned back to her friend with wide eyes.
"Professor Lupin…he's likely-"
"Likely what?" The two girls spun around to see Professor Lupin standing there with a grim expression on his face. Seeing the fear in their eyes, the weary teacher sighed. "Yes," he said, "I am a werewolf." He took a step closer, saddened when the girls flinched. Hariel was tense, her hand twitching, while Hermione was frozen with fear. The werewolf smiled and said, "good instincts, Miss Potter." Hariel didn't relax, but Remus saw the confusion in her eyes–so much like James–at his words.
"Do you take wolfsbane?" The question did not come from Hermione as he'd expected, the older of the pair clearly the more learned and studious one. It came from Hariel who's distrustful eyes hurt more than any others. However, Remus allowed a small smile to come to his face at her question.
"Yes," he said, "Professor Snape brews it at Professor Dumbledore's request." There was a moment of silence, before Hermione blurted, "and you don't expect him to poison you?" Her eyes widened and her hands slapped over her mouth as Hariel baulked at her favourite professor doing something so obvious.
"No, I expect Severus would prefer my death by his wand, not his potion genius." The bland statement left the two girls staring at him. The scarred man smirked. "Did you think I didn't notice his attempt to murder me with his eyes?" Hermione blinked while Hariel's lips quirked slightly. The werewolf sat down and told of how he became afflicted by his curse and gave an abridged version of his life.
Later, after the description of Lupin's life, Hariel offered a suggestion to make taking the potion easier, "honey doesn't have sugar in it, sir." They then left for the feast while Remus contemplated ordering some honey, before heading for the Headmaster's office to explain Hariel, Hermione and Ron's absences from their classes.
.
That evening, Hariel was informed that she was receiving detention for her absences that day. Professor McGonagall explained that the punishment was more lenient than if she didn't have a reasonable excuse. Hariel accepted her punishment without complaint and accepted her homework (reviewing the content covered that lesson) from the head of Gryffindor House. After flicking through it, Hariel picked up the one that interested her the most: Potions.
Despite what Professor Snape had initially expected, Hariel was good at potions. Reading the summarised work of the lesson, Hariel made a note to beseech the Potion Master to let her practice brewing the potion. Hariel then reviewed the other two subjects before she decided to turn in early.
Early next morning, Hariel was shaken awake by Katie Bell. The older Gryffindor was one of Hariel's fellow Quidditch players, in the position of Chaser. Hariel herself was the Seeker, crucial to the ending of the game.
"Kay?" the brunette mumbled, "whattisit?" Katie chuckled at the less than eloquent question from the normally composed thirteen-year-old.
"Ollie wants us on the pitch." A short series of insults fell out of Hariel's mouth when she glanced out the window. Katie laughed as Hariel groaned and curled up under her blanket, looking out of it at the older girl.
"Do we have to?"
"Sorry Rhee, orders are orders."
"Stupid orders." Katie just laughed again.
When Hariel was thrust into the Quidditch team, the Chaser trio had practically adopted the girl, becoming big sisters in all but blood and law. Katie was especially close to Hariel; something about the girl just appealed to her.
"Kay?" There was something about Hariel's voice that made her seem so small and it made Katie worried.
"Yeah, Rhee?" Hariel fidgeted for a moment before she said in such a quiet voice that Katie almost missed it, "I'm quitting Quidditch after third year." To say Katie was surprised was an overstatement. The year before, Hariel had confessed that she didn't actually enjoy Quidditch. She preferred flying for fun. Unfortunately, Quidditch players got way too competitive.
"Okay." Hariel looked up in surprise, only to see Katie's soft smile. Considering the home life Hariel had, Katie wasn't surprised when the girl flung her arms around the Chaser.
.
Oliver Wood wasn't as understanding.
"What do you mean you're quitting?" He was almost frantic and panicked as if his chances of living had suddenly dropped. Hariel cringed as the Quidditch fanatic paced in front of her.
"I don't really enjoy Quidditch…" she trailed off even as the Weasley Twins sucked in a breath and the Chaser Trio winced. Oliver looked at her with a mad gleam in his eye.
"Don't like Quidditch?" He sounded as if she'd just declared the sky purple, grass silver and that muggles were actually aliens, "impossible, you're a Potter, it's in your blood." Angelina Johnson frowned at their devoted, and possibly insane, captain.
"Ollie," she said in an attempt to get the man to back down, "you can't keep her on the team if she wants to leave." Oliver ignored her, only continuing his rant. In the end, he ran out of things to say, settling for, "you can't leave the Quidditch team. I won't let you!" That was evidently the wrong thing to say because Hariel scowled and Oliver actually flinched at the look in her eyes. It was a look that promised pain and it was very sincere.
"Listen here, Wood." Hariel's voice was soft but firm, causing the whole team to stare at her. "No one controls me," she continued, "I was showing you courtesy by staying on this year, but I see that you don't value me as a person." Oliver flinched again. "You value me as the way to victory. Well good luck without your precious seeker." Without another word, Hariel turned on her foot and left the pitch, leaving Oliver with Chaser Trio and the Weasley Twins, both groups glaring at their esteemed captain.
"Ollie," said Alicia Spinnet, "we need to talk."
.
Hariel reached her dorm room and pulled out the diary. She was about to write in it when she stopped. Sometimes she forgot it wasn't an actual diary, but the container for the soul of Voldemort at sixteen years old. Placing the diary back down, Hariel curled up in her bed, not bothering to change her clothes. The Girl-Who-Lived closed her eyes and soon fell back asleep.
She wasn't sure what she was seeing. It seemed the dream shifted and changed every moment. One moment, she was standing over three faceless wizards and she uttered a word and one screamed, the next, she was running from a pale skinned wizard casting a green spell at her.
She was then flying happily on Buckbeak with Hermione clutching onto her, then she watched Hagrid bawling as he shovelled dirt into a grave with the tombstone reading Buckbeak. Her friends and she were laughing in the next moment, then they were arguing.
Hariel then stood in a white dress beside a red haired man that looked suspiciously like Fred Weasley as Hermione walked up the aisle, then she was standing next to someone she didn't quite recognise but looked familiar as Albus Dumbledore was marched down a path to an archway filled with a mist-like substance. Then Tom Riddle was standing before her with a fond smile as he said, "well done."
She woke up with a scream and Hermione was by her side in an instant saying, "Hariel, it's only a nightmare." Hariel had already stopped screaming, only sitting there with a calm stare.
"Hariel?
"I hate sleep." Hermione stared incredulously.
.
October 31, 1993
Hogwarts
The first Hogsmeade weekend had arrived and Hariel found herself in the company of Professor Lupin. Due to Vernon kicking her out of the house, she had no signed permission slip and thus no entry to the only completely Magical village in Britain. So, Professor Lupin had invited her to have tea with him.
"I'm sorry that you can't go to Hogsmeade," he said when he passed her a teacup, "but to be honest, there isn't actually that much to do there." Hariel smiled and accepted the cup. "I only have teabags, I'm afraid."
"That's fine," Hariel replied, "I've never had tea leaves before." Lupin smiled as he poured the boiled water into the cup.
"Sugar?"
"No thank you."
"Milk?"
"Yes please." They sat in silence for a while, just enjoying their tea. The pleasant silence was interrupted when Professor Snape walked in. He was carrying a smoking goblet that he placed on Lupin's desk.
"Ah, thank you, Severus," Remus said, "did you see if my suggestion could work with the potion?" Snape's lip curled. He stared at the goblet for a moment with his usual sneer before turning to Lupin.
"Yes. Honey mixed well with the brew," he said, "I am surprised you suggested this, Lupin, considering your lack of skill in the art." Hariel was about to speak when Remus simply laughed.
"It was Miss Potter," he explained, "not I, that suggested the addition of honey. I only wished to consult the resident Potions Master in the case of ineffectiveness." Snape's eyes turned to Hariel with slightly widened eyes, before they narrowed once more and his lip curled again. He turned back to Lupin.
"That would imply that Potter is aware of the potion and its effects, her aptitude in Potions notwithstanding." Was she imagining it, or did Hariel detect a hint of protectiveness?
"She and Miss Granger deduced it based on my boggart image. I felt it prudent to explain the situation, lest any misconceptions were made."
"Ah. If that is all, I would recommend drinking it soon." With another appraising glance at Hariel, Snape left the room. Lupin inspected the goblet, taking a deep breath before he downed it in a quick drink.
"It isn't delicious by any account," he said after a moment, "but it is significantly better than before." Hariel grinned before taking a sip from her tea. After she finished it, she placed it on Professor Lupin's desk with a soft clink.
"I know you didn't just want to chat, Professor," she said, "so why did you call me in?" Remus sighed, placing his goblet back on the desk. He rested his elbows on the desk and threaded his fingers. He stared at Hariel intently.
"I would like you to explain your boggart." The teacups cracked and Hariel's expression went through a drastic change right in front of Remus' eyes. Her lips pressed together and her eyes became cold and weren't they brown earlier? Her eyes had taken on a violent shade of green, eerily similar to a familiar curse.
"May I ask why?" Even her voice was different, cold and held a dangerous edge to it. Remus sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking any fatigue away.
"I have already spoken to Mister Longbottom about his fear of Professor Snape," he replied diplomatically, "I believe that when one's boggart takes the form of a person, then there is something wrong."
"I expected it to be a Dementor."
"I expected Lord Voldemort. But neither of us was right. Who did it become?" Hariel was silent for a long moment, but after taking a breath she spoke.
"A memory." Without another word, Hariel left the room. Remus frowned as he cleaned up the desk.
.
Later that evening, Hariel was sitting on her own in the common room studying her potion texts and writing the essay Professor Snape had assigned the class, History of the Herbicide Potion. Hariel went the extra mile and also included a brief history of the individual ingredients and the trial and error that the inventors and later modifications that were made. Finishing her essay with a flourish, Hariel rolled up the parchment and tied it with a small green ribbon. Satisfied, the Girl-Who-Lived packed away her books, looking at their near unused state in comparison to the well-worn pages of Magical Drafts and Potions and her own copy of Moste Potente Potions (she had bought a copy while she was in Diagon Alley during the summer) and smiling to herself.
Perhaps in another life, Professor Snape's attitude would have put her off the wonderful art of Potions, but whenever he criticised her she had asked how she could do better next time. Every time she had nothing after his class, she would stay behind and ask him for advice. More often than not, Professor Snape would order her out, but sometimes he'd scathingly spit out a small piece of advice. Eventually, her work ethic paid off and Snape had stopped criticising her work and instead began to compliment her. He still antagonised her, but that was a small sacrifice for the praise he placed on her for a successful potion.
Her work ethic for Potions did not, however, impress the other Professors who graded her as Dreadful in her homework. She'd been passing over her other classes for Potions, becoming slightly obsessed with the subject. It took an intervention from Ron of all people to get her to start to focus on her other subjects, but she always put in that extra half-hour for Potions (much to her friend's confusion).
Hariel was brought from her thoughts when she heard thumping on the door of the common room. Getting up from the lounge, Hariel walked over to the door.
"If you don't have the password, wait for someone who does," she said and was about to turn away when she heard the voice of Professor McGonagall.
"Miss Potter," she called through the portrait, "are you alright?" Confused, Hariel pushed the door open, straining against the new weight. Outside, many students had crowded around the entryway. Professors McGonagall, Dumbledore and Snape were standing at the front. Strangely, it was Professor Snape who spoke.
"Potter, what is the difference between Wolfsbane and Monkshood, and what is the most common potion both are used in?" he asked. Unsure why he was asking, Hariel answered dutifully.
"There is no difference; they are the same plant with the muggle name Aconite. The most common potion its used in is the Wolfsbane potion, a reputedly foul tasting draught, though the addition of honey can make it bearable." With a stiff nod, Snape accepted her answer.
"It's her," he said to Dumbledore, "Potter, Lupin and I were the only ones to know about the addition of honey to the potion and Black doesn't have that knowledge in Potions."
So it was an identity check… Hariel then said, "what's happened?" Professor Dumbledore spoke.
"My dear," he said and Hariel felt a flash of irritation, "it seems Sirius Black attempted to enter the Gryffindor common room in search of you." That didn't make sense. Black was an alumnus of Hogwarts and knew when Hogsmeade weekends were. Wouldn't he search there? Hariel voiced her question. Snape looked slightly proud, while Dumbledore looked a little surprised. Hariel's irritation flashed once more due to the Headmaster underestimation her. The other students, as well as the four Professors, were distracted when Peeves directed them to the location of the Fat Lady, who had fled her portrait in time. Hariel shrugged and decided to gather her things. It was obvious they wouldn't be staying in their dorms tonight. She also gathered the essentials for Pavarti Patil and Lavender Brown while gathering Hermione's things for her. When the rest of Gryffindor returned, the three girls extended their thanks. However, when Hariel asked where they were staying, the answer of 'the Great Hall' was not comforting.
"How is the big open space with windows safer than a room that can consciously lock you out?" None of them, not even Hermione, had a response. It was a frustrated Hariel that was dragged down to the Great Hall where sleeping bags had been conjured. Huffing, Hariel crawled into one after saying goodnight to Hermione and the Gossip Duo.
Hariel couldn't sleep, so she lay awake, listening to the pockets of conversation that faded away as people fell asleep. She could hear the soft breaths of Hermione, signifying that the bushy-haired witch was asleep. Hariel was starting to get bored when she heard Percy Weasley's voice.
"The Prefects, Penelope and I have scouted the entire castle with the aid of the ghosts," Percy said, "we found nothing."
"Thank you Mister Weasley," said the voice of Professor Dumbledore, "you may return to your rounds." Hariel heard the footsteps of Percy fading as he walked away. "Severus?"
"Filch, Lupin and I have checked the secret passages that the students don't know about," the Potions Master said, "none of them have been disturbed recently."
"As I thought." Hariel was confused. Did Dumbledore really waste everyone's time by simply confirming his suspicions? No, she thought, if Black had gone through those passages, then we'd now know, Dumbledore wasn't wasting time.
"Headmaster," began Snape, "I thought I should explain my suggestion from earlier."
"No Severus," Dumbledore said, "I trust everyone in the castle, even Argus, to protect the students from Sirius Black."
"Please, Headmaster," Professor Snape's voice was surprisingly soft, "please just take it into consideration."
"I have considered the possibility of all of them Severus, even you. But I will not place scrutiny on the staff." There was a pregnant pause while Hariel waited for Snape's response.
"Very well. By your leave, Headmaster?"
"Thank you, Severus, you may return to bed." Hariel heard the Potions Professor snort before he stalked away. Professor Dumbledore lingered for a moment, before leaving as well.
So Professor Snape is suspicious of a teacher, thought Hariel, but who? And why?