Still in the first of September, it wasn't until she'd stepped back into her classroom at Hogwarts after lunch that Mia realized how much she'd missed that place… They said home was where the heart was, where a person was happy. She was happy teaching – loved doing it, even – so she supposed that, in a way, that classroom was a little bit of home…
She hated Umbridge for having taken it away from her in the previous year. Even more so for having her replaced by Binns, who certain had a lot of knowledge about history but had no idea of how to pass it along to his students without boring them to death. She's gone now, Mia reminded herself. And thanks to Amelia Bones's intervention, not to mention Dumbledore's, Dolores Umbridge was condemned to spend the rest of her career filling archives in the lowest levels of the Ministry of Magic. She could just picture those pink and green outfits of hers covered with the dust and spiders that were famed to live down there.
Mia let out a breath. That dark period was over and, even though other shadows were more than keen to replace that one, she selfishly wished they'd just stay far away from her and her loved ones… at least for now, as she knew fate had other plans for Harry, at least. In the following day, that room would be full of students and she had other things to worry about instead of that bloody war.
Quickly deciding to start out with setting up her office, she made her way into it through the door that connected both the History of Magic classroom to the respective teacher's private quarters. The lack of dust in it told her the house-elves had been doing their job cleaning it but, other than that, there was no sign whatsoever of it ever being used in months as everything, from the desk lamp to the cushions on the sofa, rested exactly where she'd left it. She had no idea how a ghost handled its daily life… or death, as it was the case. Apparently, it didn't involve any sort of interaction with furniture.
"Where do you want me to leave these?" Sirius asked her as he stepped into the room, carrying the boxes where all the possessions she'd needed to remove from her office after being fired by Umbridge were contained.
"Just put them on the floor so they won't get in the way of things," she said.
He managed to give her a quick nod as he balanced the boxes before placing them on the floor as she'd said. "Well, where do you want me to start?" he asked.
She raised an eyebrow. "Don't you have your own office to set up?"
"It's fine, I can do that later," he told her with a shrug. "I'll just stick around here and help you."
Mia frowned. "It's just a bunch of books, frames and small stuff. I can perfectly take care of this on my own."
"Yeah, but some of them are pretty heavy for you. I mean, that collection about the Troll wars… each book is huge and most weight nearly as much as Alex. A pregnant woman lifting the boxes up and putting all these books in the bookcases…"
"I'll be using magic so that won't be a problem," she said, edgily.
"Well, yeah, but magic can wear you out too…"
Her eyes turned into dangerously narrow slits. Not the 'you're pregnant so you're essentially made of glass' business again, she thought. Did everyone believe she was completely ignorant? She'd been a healer – she knew her limits. No need to act completely condescending! "Sirius, if you know what's best for you, you'll stop talking now and get out of this room because you're just digging yourself a bigger and bigger hole…"
"But…" His eyes widened when he saw her wand in her hand – she wasn't going to curse him, was she? If that was the case, those damn hormones had just taken a turn for life-threatening when it came to him. To his relief, although, she didn't point her wand at him but at one of the chairs in front of her desk and, giving it a wave, instantly turned the piece of furniture into a large pumpkin. He frowned and looked up at her, wondering what had been the point of that.
"Honey," she started, dangerously. "If you don't stop acting so asinine and get lost in the next twenty seconds, your head will have the same fate as that chair!"
He opened his mouth to say something but closed it right away. Way to piss her off, he told himself. He was pretty sure, for a wide range of reasons, that she wouldn't actually do it. Yet, he wouldn't want to test her on that. Maybe that threat might be his cue to leave… He raised his arms up in defeat. "Okay, okay. I'm going. Just don't push yourself…"
"Out!" she ordered loudly. He was quick in making his way out of the door, leaving her alone in the office to sulk.
She'd married an idiot. Well, maybe not an idiot but at least a git. A git she was in love with but who could just drive her mad sometimes. Like that one, she thought as she sat down on the sofa, arms crossed against her chest in irritation. She had to be mad to even consider turning someone's head into a pumpkin. It was just ridiculous! If he'd pushed her hard enough, though, she might've gone looking for a way to shove one into his head without actually hurting him – it was just for the ridicule, after all…
Annoyed, she wasted all the energy she'd gotten from the frustration into putting away all her stuff from the boxes, even without bothering to stand up from that couch. As if she wouldn't think of reducing the largest books' size before levitating them into place and them restore them to the normal size. She was pregnant, not completely demented! Distracted, she accidentally let the ink set fly against the wall, leaving there a large black stain. Damn it!
"You know, your father is an overprotective prat," Mia told her unborn baby, half-heartedly, as she waved her wand around. If she was completely honest to herself, not only being annoyed made her productive, seeing as fifteen minutes after starting putting her things away she was already finished, but also being productive helped her getting over the annoyance. At least a little of it…
Her baby seemed to agree with her statement, since she felt that soft sensation of movement inside her bump – if she didn't know it better, she'd say there were butterflies flying loose in it. But no, that was her baby stating its unspoken opinion – it had been moving around a bit lately, though it wasn't strong enough to feel from the outside yet.
If there was any irritation still inside her at that moment, it had faded thanks to her unborn son or daughter. She smiled and got up, rubbing her belly as she started walking around. "I know you agree, honey." She sighed. "He was much worse when it was your brother in there, you know? Mummy couldn't take a step without him following around. Silly guy, isn't he?"
The movements continued for a few more seconds before slowly fading away – she assumed the baby had gone back to sleep or just gotten fed up of moving around. "I suppose I can give him a little break because he loves us all so much, can't I?" Mia paused. "Do you think Mummy overreacted too much by kicking Daddy out?"
"I doubt he'll hold it against you," a voice said behind her.
Startled, Mia turned around all of a sudden to see McGonagall standing by the doorway, her lips curled into a rare smile. "Oh, it's you, Minerva. Come on in."
"I didn't mean to startle you," the professor said, apologetically.
Mia shook her head. "It's no problem. Now, you must think I'm mad, talking to myself…"
"I was under the impression you were talking to your child, not yourself. And I believe that is quite normal among pregnant women," McGonagall said, stepping into the office. "I was wondering if you needed some help out here but it looks like you handled everything on your own…"
She raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Sirius didn't ask you to come here, did he?"
"Not that I recall," the older teacher promised her with a smile. "To tell the truth, I'm not really used to being around pregnant co-workers – it makes me feel rude not to come by and offer a hand to you."
Mia sighed and sat down behind her desk and waved her hand at the chair opposite her that still looked like a chair. "Please, take a seat, Minerva. Now, I feel rude for asking that at all. It's just he gets so protective sometimes and it's… well, it's frustrating."
McGonagall nodded, giving a confused look to the pumpkin resting beside the chair she was directed to and opting ask about it later. She cleared her throat. "I can relate, actually. Just after I came back from St. Mungo's a few months ago after that… incident when I got stunned by multiple sources while Dolores tried to get Hagrid shooed out of this school, everyone seemed to believe I couldn't walk around this school without an escort – I even had a house elf following me around! Just imagine how ludicrous the situation was!"
She chuckled heartedly at the thought. "Oh, I don't think Sirius would've gone that far," Mia mumbled. "Maybe I was a little too hard on him by kicking him out…" She pointed at the pumpkin resting just by the side or her teacher's chair. "That used to be a chair a few hours ago. I threatened to do the same with Sirius's head – I don't think I'd have done it, though. It would be just mental."
Genuinely amused, McGonagall let out a joyous laugh and Mia couldn't help thinking that she didn't remember her old teacher ever laughing like that. "I don't think I'd ever heard a threat as creative as that one. Involving transfiguration, no less. And, technically speaking, I believe you'd have succeeded in turning that threat into a reality if you wanted you," McGinagall continued. "You always were quite talented in my class."
"I liked transfiguration. Not as much as James, though," she let out a long breath, thinking of the past. "Do you know he was the brains behind the Marauders becoming Animagi?"
McGonagall let out a huff, then. "I thought so when Albus told me of it. If I'd known it back then… honestly, I'm not sure if I'd have him and your husband on detention for the rest of their lives or proposed their names for some sort of achievement prize. I never knew if I should be fascinated or appalled with half the trouble they came up with." The teacher shook her head in disapproval. "Quite a handful, they were. I dare say the only ones that were able to reach their level were the Weasley twins." And had she been proud of the way they'd stood up to Umbridge the previous year and completely humiliated her with their explosive exit of the school…
"They're doing very well with their shop," Mia told her with a smile.
The other woman nodded. "Yes, I saw so myself. I couldn't help dropping by to see it when I went to Diagon Alley, check what I should expect seeing in the students' hands this year…" And, once more, she'd been guiltily impressed by their success. "Well, I think we can expect plenty of trouble related to Weasley products. Argus has already pined their whole catalogue in his banned-items list."
"And since when did that ever stop anyone?" Mia asked sceptically. "Anyway, considering the lack of enjoyment that there was last year with Umbridge, I don't think that the students using Weasley products every now and then will be too bad, actually."
"Seen from that point of view, maybe not," McGonagall offered. "I usually make an effort not to despise fellow teachers but that woman…" she didn't finish her sentence but the narrowing of her eyes said enough on themselves. She sighed. "I was genuinely relieved when Albus told me he'd managed to hire Horace back. He may have his strange habits, yes, but at least he's proven his trust to us plenty of times already."
Mia agreed. "So, Snape is really taking over DADA, isn't he?" she asked. "Sirius has been feeding this little fantasy that Snape had gotten married, quit his job, and moved out of the country… please don't ask for details, it was a really bizarre scenario."
The teacher raised her eyebrows. "Well, I can assure you Severus is indeed taking over the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and certainly not planning to move out of the country anytime soon. As for getting married, I haven't heard of anything of that sort." She shook her head in disbelief. "Honestly, I'd like to know where Sirius gets that imagination from."
"That makes two of us – this was just his way of convincing himself he wouldn't have to deal with Snape this year, actually. You know how they are, Minerva."
The older teacher nodded knowingly. "Yes, it's like they become hostile toddlers when they're face to face. Severus wasn't too keen about having Sirius back in the school either. He even suggested we ended the position of Quidditch Coach for good as Umbridge had – Albus took it as a joke, of course."
Mia saw the reference to Dumbledore as a good opportunity to enquire McGonagall about something that she'd been worried (and curious) about ever since she'd last seen the headmaster. "Minerva, do you have any idea of what happened to Albus's…"
"… hand?" McGonagall finished for her, her face tensing slightly. "You're not the first one to ask. I have no idea. He's been evading everyone's questions about it and won't even let Poppy check the hand…"
"No? But he said he'd had it checked – I'd assumed it would have been Madam Pomfrey."
"Not this time," McGonagall said. "He just keeps assuring us that whatever happened to the hand, it's under control."
"It doesn't look good, though. It seems… dead. The hand, I mean," Mia clarified. "It looks like the hand of a corpse. I worked for over ten years as a healer and I never saw anything like that, Minerva."
"Poppy told me the same and she's been on the job for over thirty years."
"It looks like the product of a curse – a very powerful and dark one, I'd say," Mia said. "Are you sure he didn't get this in a battle? It might've happened in the Department of Mysteries and remained dormant for a while."
McGonagall shook her head. "I wasn't there, so I wouldn't be able to tell. As for any battle after that, I don't recall him ever being hit by any spell. I suppose we'll just have to keep on trusting Albus's words until he decides to clarify us further even if we don't like it." The deputy headmistress sighed, then, standing up. "Well, it was lovely talking to you again, Mia, but if you don't need my help here, after all, I should go down to the kitchens and oversee things."
Mia stood up as well and gave McGonagall a nod. "Of course. Thanks for offering the help, anyway. I won't keep you any longer."
And as McGonagall made her way out of the room, Mia sank back into her chair, unsure of what to do. She didn't feel like sulking anymore. In fact, she felt more like dropping by Sirius's office and pay him a little visit. Maybe apologize for her earlier outburst as well if he showed he was sorry for being an overprotective arse…
"What do you say, baby? Do you want to go pay Daddy a visit?" she asked, looking down at her bump, which didn't show any sign of response. "Not feeling like answering, are you? Well, Mummy's gonna take that as a 'yes'."
When the knock on the door caught his attention, Sirius had been sitting in his small office, leaning against the back of the chair he was balancing backwards. His feet were propelled on the desk in front of him while he indulgently read about the winnings of the Tornados on Quidditch Monthly. Before telling whoever had knocked to come in, he quickly straightened himself on the chair, removed his feet from the table and put down the magazine– far from him risking one of his old teachers finding him in the position he'd been on. That would just be weird.
However, Mia was the one stepping into the room instead. He took a second to evaluate the expression on her face, trying to gather whether she was still angry or not. He couldn't really hold her outburst against her – after thinking for a few minutes, he realized he'd been pretty insistent about staying there and helping her. Maybe annoyingly so. And that added with the hormonal outbursts was explosive. But, looking at her, he quickly recognized the calmer look in her eyes as she stood there by the door and concluded she wasn't there for a second round of shouting.
"Hi," she said, almost awkwardly. "Do you have a little time for me?"
Before answering, he stood up and made his way to her. "All the time in the world," he assured her, offering a smile. His hands reached for hers as he approached her. "Does you being here mean I'm forgiven for my earlier 'overprotective prat-ness'?"
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Were you listening when I called you that?"
"Not really, but you usually call me names along those lines when you're angry at me."
"I wasn't angry. I was just…" she sighed, letting her hands go of his, "having a tantrum, I guess." No, that wasn't the right word. Tantrum. It made her sound like an annoyed four-year-old. "Well, maybe I was a little angry."
He chuckled. "A little?"
She sighed. "I overreacted. I'm sorry. But you can't just go all… patronizing on me, okay? It's annoying."
"I didn't mean to make it sound patronizing, Mia," Sirius said apologetically. "I really didn't."
Mia nodded, accepting his words. "And I didn't mean to jump on your throat like that either. I did want to kick you out, though."
He snorted. "You get points for the honesty."
"And for the record," Mia added with a little glint of gloating in her eyes, "I put everything away in less than fifteen minutes and didn't get even a little tired. Mostly because I was still running on fumes from being pissed off at you, by the way."
Sirius laughed. "Well, why don't we call it a tie this time around then?"
Mia smiled. "A tie would be just fine. And for the record, I promise I wasn't actually planning to turn your head into any sort of vegetable anytime soon," she added.
"I had a feeling you weren't," he confessed. One of his hands reached up to cup her cheek as the other rested on the side of her bump. "You love me too much to do that." His face broke into a wider and more playful grin, then, as he decided it was time to add some banter to their conversation. "Besides, it would be sort of difficult to snog a pumpkin, wouldn't it? With the lack of lips and all. You love snogging me too much to give it up."
She raised a defiant eyebrow at him. "Don't be so sure of that. Push the wrong buttons and you'll see."
"You're saying you could spend, let's say, two weeks without snogging me even though you see me everyday?" he dared her, hoping she wouldn't take him up on it. The competitive streak on him was just too strong for him to stay quiet.
"Well, I bet I could give it up for a while if I tried."
"Are you sure?" he asked, leaning even closer to her, less than one inch apart, testing her on purpose.
She could actually feel his breath against hers and it made her feel… Merlin, it made her feel on fire. She wanted to kiss him. Hard. Why did he have to do that when she was trying to prove a point? It was on purpose, obviously.
"Well?" he insisted.
"You're an arse," she whispered, accepting her defeat and giving in. Her lips were on his moments later, passionate and demanding, making Sirius groan in triumph. He didn't disappoint her, responding in the same tone as his hand cupped her face.
He still made her knees go weak when he kissed her, even though they'd been together so long. That was one of the reasons why she'd never be able to win that dare of his. And his hands always touched her so softly, almost reverently. He knew exactly what she liked and where she liked it. More and more reasons for her not to win popped in her head as his lips passionately kissed hers but the most important of all was a constant: because she loved him more than words could say and so did he.
She grabbed the hem of his shirt and gave it a pull, silently urging him to kiss her even more fiercely, which he immediately complied, wrapping his arm around her form harder and pulling her closer. That sent waves of heat all over her body.
At some point, he pulled away slightly so they could catch their breaths back and she immediately felt at loss. "Do you still want to prove your point?" he asked playfully.
She locked her arms around his neck. "What point?"
"No idea." He gave her lips a peck in satisfaction. "We still have a few hours before the kids arrive. What do you say to us locking these respectful quarters and take this to that bed I never use?"
Mia just kissed him again in response. He really was an arse…
Ginny Weasley generally didn't have a problem with her boyfriend's innate tendency to go looking for trouble. Harry wouldn't be Harry without his share of heroics, after all. Plus, there was also the fact that she owed her life to these 'heroics', seeing as they were what had led him to go rescue her from the Chamber of Secrets over three years before. She loved Harry for his courage as much as for his troubles or insecurities.
Yet, the fact that, after leaving that painfully long gathering Slughorn had them to attend for some reason, he'd decided to follow Zabini into the Slytherin compartment under his invisibility cloak to go eavesdrop Malfoy and likely gotten himself caught didn't exactly make her happy. What else would explain that the train had just reached Hogwarts and there was yet no sign of Harry ever since he'd gone on his mission over half an hour before?
"I'm gonna look for him," Ginny told Izzy, as they stood outside the train, waiting while Ron and Hermione were busy rounding up the first years to send to Hagrid. Nearby, a group of aurors, Tonks among them, was patrolling and making sure everyone got in the carriages. "If somebody asks where we are… well, tell them the truth."
"Do you think he's in trouble?" Izzy asked her, slightly worried. "Again?"
Ginny shrugged. "What else?" She reached for the tiny pigmy puff that her brothers had given her, who'd been resting on her shoulder. "Keep an eye on Arnold for me, would you?"
Izzy gave her a final nod before she made her way back to the train's entrance. She wasn't sure of which door would lead her to the right coach until she literally ran into Malfoy climbing out of one. He didn't seem all that pleased to see her there. "Watch where you're going, Weaslette," he snarled.
"Go piss in the wind for all I care," she unceremoniously said, pushing her way into the train without giving him another look.
Which compartment? She thought as she stood in the vestibule. She could count six from there… Yet, the blinds were drawn down on only one of the compartments – someone had been trying to hide something there. She made her way along the hall and slid its door open. It looked empty.
"Harry?" she called, getting no answer. Ginny took a step further into the compartment and her foot hit something on the floor – something invisible. She raised an eyebrow and reached down, trying to grab it. Her hand touched something with a satin-like texture and she pulled it, revealing Harry to be petrified and with a broken nose hidden under his invisibility cloak.
Ginny sighed. "Why is it that you always end up covered in blood, Potter?" she asked, reaching for her wand."Finite incantatem."
Immediately, the stiffness he'd been feeling left Harry's body and he was finally able to move. "Oh, thank Merlin. I thought I was going all the way back to London…"
"You git. Izzy and I were worried sick. Ron and Hermione would be too if they weren't busy with the first years," she scolded him, helping him up
"Sorry," he apologized as his hand tentatively touched his swollen nose. "Ooch." He reached for a handkerchief and Ginny took it from him, helping him clean the blood on his face.
"Ginny, are you there? Is Harry with you?" they heard Tonks's familiar voice asking from the vestibule.
"We're here," Ginny called back.
"The train is about to leave, so unless you guys want to go back home…"
"Come on," she said, pulling Harry out of the compartment by the arm. "We'll talk outside."
The engines were already running by the time they climbed out of the train and Tonks, who was waiting outside, raised her eyebrows at Harry's appearance. "Well, I never thought you had it in you to knock him around, Ginny. Trouble in paradise?" she asked, amused.
Ginny smirked. "Sure. I punched him on the nose when he grabbed a handful of my arse. No respect for a girl, these days."
"Ah, wait until I tell that one to Remus and your brothers," Tonks joked.
"Hey!" Harry spat back. "I respect Ginny just fine."
Tonks chuckled for a moment before making an effort to put on a serious face. She was on service, after all. "Who did it, really?"
"Draco Malfoy," Harry said bitterly, avoiding the details around the incident. "We don't really get along."
"Yeah, I can see that," the auror stated. "If you stay still I can fix your nose before Mia sees you and freaks out, thinking you were ambushed by Death Eaters." He gave her a nod and did as she said, feeling thankful later when he saw that his nose was back together.
Tonks walked then back to the threstral-drawn carriages and, on their way, Ginny kept shooting him inquisitive looks, which he dismissed, telling her in a whisper to wait until they were in the carriage. Just as they arrived, they could see the last group of students, who happened to include Ron, Hermione and Izzy, at a distance, having just left on one of the carriages. They waved at him, seemingly relieved to see him before their carriage slipped out of view in the middle of all the trees.
He and Ginny climbed on theirs and quickly bid farewells to Tonks before the threstral began to pull them. "Well?" Ginny asked, sitting by his side, half turned to him. "Did you find anything?"
He nodded. "I did. Malfoy talks way too much for his own good. He was talking about Voldemort… he bragged he was working for him, Ginny. He all but said it out clear."
"Maybe he was just talking out of his arse to impress Pansy… You know how he's always been cocky."
He shook his head. "No, it makes sense, now. The other day at Knockturn, he showed his left arm at Borgin. It didn't make much sense then, but now… The dark Mark is branded on the left forearm, isn't it?"
Ginny was taken aback by his question and her hand reached to his. "Are you saying…?"
He nodded. "I think Draco Malfoy has become a Death Eater."
A/N: Kind of a filler, except for the last part. It wasn't a very inspired week... Good news is that I got top marks in the presentation I had last Wednesday, so at least the lack of inspiration was worth it. I apologize for the lateness again - real life is a bother sometimes... Feedback is very welcome. Review!