Chapter 14

It was almost as though Audrey was teasing; I was dying to tell her about the nights patrol, and she was no where to be seen in the common room. It was after curfew so she could not be in the library, and she was not in the dorms either. Normally, this peculiar absence would have sparked my interest, but not tonight. No, tonight my mind busy buzzing with the evenings events.

It had been twelve years since the Potters and Pettigrew had died, and Black was sent to Azkaban. Twelve years long years, and still Professor Lupin hurt at the thought of it. And then there as the other girl; Rose Wilson. I'm sure I didn't imagine it – he eyes lingered on her. I wondered vaguely what had really happened to make him break up with her, whether he had still loved her at the time, whether he still does, and whether they ever spoke after that. After six years, there must have been something big for him to pull away… what had Uncle Graham said? Too poor, too dangerous, unwilling to have children. Well, he is not dangerous any more, what with You-Know-Who gone. Unwilling to have children? Was he infertile? No… unwilling makes it sound like he can have kids but does not want to. Odd, really. He is great with kids.

And then there was the poverty issue. It was obvious Professor Lupin was not big on cash. But why? He was extremely intelligent and talented too. He could get a great paying job easily. Well, he had one now, at any rate. But for how long? He was teaching DADA, and everyone knew that job was cursed. No DADA Professor had lasted longer than a year for as long as most people could remember.

I slipped in to bed, shaking my head as though to clear my thoughts… it was too confusing. On top of that, he seemed to get sick often, and was a little skinnier than would be expected for a healthy man his age. As the old muggle saying goes, the man is a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma. And damned handsome too, I thought, as my mind drifted off to sleep.

- - -

When I woke up the following morning, it took me a while to remember why I was still dressed in my school robes. Soon enough though, I realised that I must have fallen asleep unintentionally last night.

As I pulled back my curtains, I saw that the dorm was empty.

"Merlins beard!" I cried out as I jumped out of bed, sure that I was late to class. But before I took even two steps, I saw a note levitating in the air in front of me, with my name on it. It was from Audrey. I snatched it out of the air, and read;

Fay, I think I'll let you sleep in, I'm off to Hogsmeade with Oliver. See you at dinner!

-Audrey.

A wave if relief rushed over me. It's Saturday – Hogsmeade weekend! For a moment I was ready to jump back into bed, but thought better of it. I did not feel much like going to Hogsmeade, especially not alone, and I had a tonne of homework to do anyway.

So, after having a quick shower and finding some fresh robes, I made my way down to breakfast. I had not slept in as late as I thought I had; thought most people had already finished breakfast, there was still a lot of people eating. A quick look up and down the Gryffindor table told me that Audrey and Oliver had already gone, so I took a seat next to Hermione Granger, who was sitting alone and looking stressed.

"Hi Hermione," I said kindly.

She looked startled, but managed a smile when she saw me.

"Oh, hello, Faylinn," she replied, and seeing me add food to my plate asked, "Had a sleep in?"

"Yeh," I said, wishing I was still in bed, "Haven't had much sleep lately, to be honest, you know, NEWTs in four months time, it's a nightmare! It's like doing OWL's all over again, only worse! Still…" I added, taking in the dark circles under Hermione's eyes. They reminded me of how tired Professor Lupin looked when he was sick, "I can't complain much, I haven't got as many subjects as you."

Hermione nodded, "I know exactly what you mean. I've been losing too much sleep myself. It's all I seem to be doing these days, you know, studying."

Her eyes flickered for a moment across the table, towards Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. I knew they were fighting; something about Hermione's cat eating Ron's rat. Not that I cared much, I've always hated rats… never understood why anyone would bother actually keeping one alive. But I felt bad for Hermione; that Weasley was being a git.

Before I could say anything else, Hermione abruptly excused herself from the table, and hurried out of the hall, and then, only seconds later, an owl landed in her half eaten cereal. It was my uncle's owl. I carefully removed the letter from the owl's leg. It was from mum; we did not have an owl, so she often borrowed my uncles one.

Dear sweety, just letting you know that your dad sprained his ankle yesterday. Nothing too serious, but he has to take a week off from work. It would be nice if you sent him a little get well note.

Hoping your well, Mum

Oh, poor dad. I sprained my ankle once when I was about ten. It hurt, a lot. My foot is still a little swollen at the top. Quickly finishing my breakfast (By which time most students were already at Hogsmeade), I stood up to take the owl up to my dorm so I could write a note, but when I saw Filch and his loathsome cat stalking the entrance hall, I was hit with a better idea: the apothecary was bound to have something to heal dad's foot.

I sent my uncles owl back to my uncle's house, thinking I could just use a school owl later on, and made my way to Hogsmeade. Alone. No one even goes to Hogsmeade alone, but it was not like I could just conjure up an inflatable friend dressed in Gryffindor robes to escort me.

Hogsmeade was full of students, all making the most of the still rather cold though snow free weather, filling their pockets with Honeydukes best chocolate and as many dungbombs as they could carry. Otherwise, they were just enjoying the sites, having a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks or holding hands over a coffee at Madam Puddifoot's. As I walked past the frilly teashop, I looked in through the windows hoping to see Audrey. I immediately spotted Percy with his Ravenclaw girl friend, kissing. If you could call it kissing, that is, it looks more like Percy was trying to deliver a speech in front of the ministry, and I was eternally grateful that Percy was not the one to cure me from the poisoned apple. Yuk.

Looking past the happy couple, I quickly scanned the room, but there was no sign of Audrey or Oliver, so I turned away and made my way down to the apothecary. Not that I expected her to be in the teashop. Neither of us liked the place very much. Not only was it horribly decorated, it was small and cramped, and couples were shamelessly kissing in every direction you looked. I could still remember my first and only date in there. I accidentally spilt my hot tea all over my dates robes, and, being the arrogant git he was, he suggested I apologise with a good snog. Needless to say, I didn't think much of that idea, and when I told so, he stood up, ranting loudly for all to hear that he could have any girl he wanted and that he didn't know why he was wasting his time with a "frigid hag", and left. Didn't even pay for his drink. That was in fourth year, and I have not been on a date since.

Three years, I thought bitterly, three years since my last date. That's pretty sad, I admitted to myself, and even worse, I was crushing on a teacher too, which is itself a useless pursuit, nothing could ever happen between us unless it involved a rogue boggart and a poisoned apple. And it's not like I was getting any younger – wizardkind usually marry a year or too after graduating from Hogwarts, but prospects were not looking so great for me. No, if there was a department I was lacking in, it was a love life. I mean, seriously, even Percy, the Percy Weasley, had a steady relationship going!

I forcefully pushed those thoughts out of my mind as I entered the apothecary. The assistant was young, but she really knew her stuff. As soon as I explained about my dad's broken ankle, she was pulling a small bottle of lotion from the shelf.

"See, this stuff 'ere," she said happily, "It's great for sprains 'nd the like, specially designed for it. You just rub it on, and it will 'ave 'ealed in five minutes, ten minutes if it's a really bad one."

"Does it work for muggles?" I asked.

"Muggles, ay?" she thought for a moment, "How old are we talking?"

"Fourty two years old."

"Should be fine, though never use this for muggles over seventy, does funny stuff to their skin, it does. Your dad should be right, though, but I 'xpect it might take a good hour or two for it too fully 'eal."

I paid for the lotion, thanked the witch and made my way back down the street. Dad would love this. He loves magic, even though he can't do it. When I became of age he was asking me to show him all sorts of things, and over the winter break, when I had showed him my Partonus he was absolutely delighted.

As I continued walking down the street, I noticed a couple walking together, holding hands, coming towards me. It was Audrey and Oliver! Holding hands, how cute! At least one of us has something going for her. Not wanting to disturb them, I slipped into the closest shop and watched them pass though the window.

"…and my uncle will be proud, he's always wanted a professional Quidditch player in the family. But what about you, what have…" Oliver's voice drifted in through the open door, and a moment later it was gone.

I made to leave the shop, and it was not until then that I realised where I was. It was a men's clothing store, filled with rows and rows of designer robes, trousers, shirts and jumpers. A jumper close by caught my eye; it was v-necked and elegant, a deep red-brown in colour with black lining around the neck and cuffs. It reminded me of a jumper Professor Lupin wore, though while his was rather worn out and coloured grey, this one was in perfect condition (well obviously, it's new). I spared myself a moment to imagine how smart Professor Lupin would look in that jumper and how great the colour would match his pale skin and light brown hair. A quick look at the price tag told me he was unlikely to be able to afford it.

You could buy it for him… suggested a voice somewhere in the back of my mind. Buy a teacher a present? Talk about awkward! He wouldn't have to know it was from you… said the voice, and Valentines Day is this Friday… Er, but he is a teacher… the voice huffed impatiently, come on, he deservers it, and you have heaps of gold!

Why am I talking to myself? Fine! I'll get the damn jumper. But what good would one jumper be, he would need a matching robe and trousers… Right, so I'll get those too. Smiling nervously, I picked up the red-brown jumper, hardly daring to believe I was really doing this.

He deserves it, I told myself, over and over again. And it was true. He did deserve it. So, ten minutes later, I was paying for three jumpers, two robes, two pairs of trousers and a shirt (Well, what good is only one set of new clothes? I had told myself. And the robes were on special anyway… twenty five perfect off! How could I resist?) I was not sure about his size, so the shop assistant threw in a free magically size adjustment tab which was designed especially for the clothing that he sold.

Before leaving the store (and making sure the assistant was helping another customer) I transfigured the bags into plain brown paper bags, so no one would know what I had bought, and covered my face with a cloak. I sighed loudly as I made my way down the crowded Hosgmeade street; just when I thought my life could not get any sadder, I went and spent a fortnights worth of allowance money to buy a teacher a Valentines Day gift…