Diary of a Discovered Girl
by Ash-Caro-Lynn
Chapter III : Of Memories and Meetings
"Go! Lily! Take Harry, take Holly!"
"But, James-"
"Don't worry! I'll hold him off!"
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
I gasped, shooting up as a flash of green light flooded my vision, the hand I held over my heart, the thumping I felt beneath it betraying my fear.
I shuddered, remembering the nightmare that had seemed almost… real. I remembered screaming, and green, but my recollection was quickly fading as I became more and more aware of my surroundings.
It was early, barely any sunlight shining outside. I groaned, realizing quite quickly that I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, reluctantly sitting up and letting my bare feet touch the cool floor.
Well, I'll have to get through the day, sleep-deprived or not, I thought to myself.
Bloody hell, this isn't going to be fun.
"Miss Leavitt – a word in my office, please," said Professor McGonagall – our head of house - as she passed out the timetables to the Gryffindors. "Miss Granger, please come as well."
We shared a glance, each of us thinking along the same lines ('Why does she need to speak to us?') as we got up, abandoning our breakfasts and following her out of the Great Hall, silently walking through the corridors and eventually reaching her office.
After she had closed the door behind us, Professor McGonagall quickly moved across the room, using a key to open a drawer in her desk, from which she produced two chain necklaces, each with a peculiar pendant at the end.
"These," she said, holding them out to us, "are Time Turners."
Hermione gasped. "I've read about those – they allow one to go back in time, don't they?"
Professor McGonagall nodded. "One turn of the inner ring will allow you to go back an hour. The two of you are taking several classes this year, as I understand it."
I laughed a little, remembering the small slips of paper that we had received, being told to check off at least two electives. Frustrated by the prospect of having to choose, I had simply placed a check in each box.
She handed the cool necklaces – or rather, Time Turners – to us. "As you'll remember, each class lasts an hour. You can use these to travel back in time to be able to get to your classes with conflicting schedules. Remember, though, that this is a privilege, and not a right. Should I hear of you misusing either of these, they will be taken away. Do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," chimed Hermione and I.
"Don't let anyone see them or you using them. Don't run into your past selves. The two of you are bright girls, I know you can manage these. You are dismissed."
And with that, we left, the Time Turners hanging from gold chains under our robes.
As it turned out, however, my prediction of the day not being fun was correct, in a sense, being more terrifying than actually entertaining, but it was most definitely interesting.
I hadn't been looking forward to the day, really – first we had a Potions class with the Slytherins (the green and silver house known for its enmity with Gryffindor), which I would enjoy the educational part of, but not the educator (Professor Snape was an awful, bitter professor who enjoyed picking on his students, especially the students in Gryffindor); and a Transfiguration class that wasn't the least fun of classes, but not the most enjoyable, either.
But we had Defense Against the Dark Arts for third period, and after dragging my feet to the classroom (with great difficulty due to my dampened spirits from a brutal Potions class and a Transfiguration class I hadn't performed well in) I was rewarded for my efforts.
"Come in, come in," said Professor Lupin briskly, though he looked rather exhausted with faint but visible lines under his eyes. We filed into the classroom, though it was different from conventional rooms in that all of the desks were shoved against the wall. "Line up at the back, now – you dropped this, Miss Leavitt."
It took me a moment to realize that the paper he was holding out was intended for me – having spent an entire summer free to disclose my full name and not hide my identity – but I took it with a confused nod, not recognizing the small slip of parchment as I tucked it into my book bag.
Professor Lupin took the register, hindered by the fact that we were all enthusiastically chatting about the lesson. After getting through all of our names, and brought our attention to a closet at the front of the room, which I realized was shaking upon closer inspection.
A shaking closet. Oh, Merlin, this is not going to be fun.
"This closet," Professor Lupin explained, "holds your worst fears. Some of you may not believe me when I say this, but I must ask you to remain calm..."
It's a Boggart.
Boggarts are creatures that immediately morph into the worst fear of the person nearest them, usually only defeated by a Riddikulus charm (which quite literally makes them look ridiculous) or being Banished (though that's rather advanced magic).
I had never faced one, and felt myself filled with a sense of dread. What would it morph into? Voldemort, perhaps? Or the green light… just the thought of it made me shudder.
It's rather frustrating to admit, but I was afraid of what was behind those closet doors.
You're a Gryffindor, woman up, I thought to myself as Professor Lupin opened the closet. A wind swept out of it, immediately taking the form of a white orb with a loud crack.
"Repeat after me," he called to those of us behind him. "Riddikulus!"
Ah, so it was a Boggart. "Riddikulus!" we chorused.
"This class is ridiculous," muttered Malfoy.
Malfoy being Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin that both my brother and I despised for being a bully, rude, and a general jerk.
I couldn't fight the slight quirk of my lip at his rather witty comment, even if it was rude and totally uncalled for.
Lupin pointed his wand at the Boggart, repeating, "Riddikulus!" Green sparks flew out of his wand, attacking the white orb and turning it into a balloon, which deflated as it flew around the room. "Who's next – Mr Thomas, come on up!"
Dean Thomas of Gryffindor hesitantly stepped up beside Professor Lupin, who adjusted the way he was holding his wand as the Boggart came back, turning into a pale figure in a dark black cloak that I guessed was a vampire. "R-Riddikulus!" stammered Dean, and the green sparks that flew out of his wand took away the vampire's dark cloak and pale skin and instead made it glimmer like a fairy. I giggled, along with the rest of the class, though our laughter was short-lived.
"Miss Patil – the Ravenclaw one!" The Patil twins – Parvati the Gryffindor and Padma the Ravenclaw (whom one would be unable to distinguish from each other had they not worn differently colored robes) – separated, and Padma gulped as she faced down the Boggart, who morphed into a mummy.
"Riddikulus!" she shouted bravely, and the bandages started to unravel themselves, leaving a pile at the Boggart's feet that vanished as Neville was called upon and it transformed with another crack.
I raised an eyebrow at the believable likeness of Professor Snape. Well, if his worst fear is Professor Snape, mine can't be that bad, can it?
"R-R-Riddikulus!" stammered Neville, but nothing happened.
"Don't worry, Neville," said Professor Lupin soothingly. "Think of someone you're close to..."
"My Gran!" exclaimed Neville.
"Yes, and what does your Gran wear?" continued Lupin. Ah, smart professor.
"She wears – er – a vulture hat..." Neville frowned. "I've got it! RIDDIKULUS!"
And so it was that I saw, for both the first and last time, Professor Snape wearing a lacy dress and a vulture hat.
It was both hilariously entertaining and traumatically scarring.
Several students were called upon to face the Boggart, including Hermione – for whom it turned into Professor McGonagall telling her she failed on all of her exams – and Ron – whose Boggart was a spider. Finally, after most everyone had had their turn, Professor Lupin waved his wand at the Boggart flew back into the closet, which locked itself up just as the bell rang.
"Good work, class, you're dismissed!" he called out. "Homework : none."
Much of the class cheered at this as we filed out of the classroom, all chatting about the lesson.
"Did everyone get a go except for you and I?" I asked Harry curiously as we strolled out of the classroom.
"Yeah, I noticed that too," he replied. "Do you reckon he had a reason for it?"
"No clue," I replied. "What's your worst fear, anyway?"
"I was thinking about that, but the only thing I could come up with is Voldemort." His saying the name made a couple of people flinch. "But am I really that afraid of him?"
"It's not so much fear as it is bitter resentment, I should think," I replied. "Now my worst fear is going to sound lame, isn't it?"
"Depends. Is it Madam Pince telling you the library's closed?" I laughed at the joked, shaking my head.
"I'm not quite that bookish," I replied with a grin. "No, what I'm really afraid of… is being afraid. I can stare down spiders and though it would pain me, I could probably take failure. But facing down a Boggart? Absolutely terrifies me."
"So..." Harry frowned. "You're afraid of Boggarts?"
"Basically, yeah," I replied. "I should call of those researchers who want to see a Boggart in its true form and have them open a closet with one. Wouldn't that be interesting?"
"Yeah," he replied with a shrug. "I suppose."
"Why are you so out of it?" I asked curiously. "You're boring. You didn't even sleep on the couch, so don't let me hear sleep deprivation as an excuse. You don't see me using that excuse, and I hardly slept a wink."
"You slept in the common room?" asked Harry, raising an eyebrow. "But… isn't the sofa comfortable?"
"It's not that the sofa's uncomfortable," I replied with a sigh. "I had a nightmare."
"A nightmare?" he repeated. "So you can't tease me about having bad dreams any more?"
"Why, Harry dearest, did I ever tease you for having bad dreams?" I asked in mock hurt.
He smirked, stroking an invisible beard. "Hm..." he replied. "I think… yes."
"So now you're going to tease me about having a dream about the night our parents died, aren't you?" He raised an eyebrow at that.
"You dreamed about the night our parents died?" he asked incredulously. "How do you know it was them, and not just your imagination?"
"Well, I'd imagine that at least some of it was my imagination filling in for the gaps in my memory," I replied, "seeing as I can't exactly remember twelve years ago that clearly, but I am just about certain that it was related to that night."
"And when you're just about certain, it means that if you turn out to be wrong, everyone automatically has permission to laugh, ridicule, and make a fool out of you, right?"
"Precisely."
We sat at the Gryffindor table at lunchtime, chatting about various things from Boggarts to breakfast (well, in in Ron's case, at least. Not all of us are quite so food-oriented).
"What do you reckon your Boggart is, eh, Willow?" asked Fred teasingly with a wink.
"Perhaps assassins?" suggested George.
"Or wild dogs," added Harry, smirking at me.
"Hey, you're the one who saw a Grim..." I muttered under my breath, nudging him.
"The undead, maybe?" offered Hermione.
"Hold on a second..." said Fred.
"We've got it…" continued George.
"Pumpernickel," the two chimed, laughing at my bewildered expression.
"Why the hell would I be scared of a type of bread?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "That's a highly illogical fear."
"And that's why it's so brilliant, our dear Willow," replied Fred with a smirk.
"Because it's so highly illogical," added George.
"I need to find something to do other than chat with you, I think it's killing my brain cells," I murmured, opening my bag to find a book. My hand brushed across a small piece of parchment, and I pulled it out, recognizing the note I had apparently 'dropped' in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Curious, I unfolded it, reading the note in a tidy scrawl.
'Holly,' it read.
'Meet me in my office after dinner tonight. Bring your brother if you'd like.
'-Professor Lupin.'
I wordlessly passed it over to Harry, who read it with a similar shock showing on his face.
"What's that you've got there, Leavitt and Potter?" asked George, leaning over. Harry passed the note back to me, and I shoved it into my bag, making the twins pout.
"She's being so secretive," mumbled Fred.
"Indeed. One might be tempted to say that our young Willow didn't want us to see," added George.
"But that's preposterous, surely..." I tuned the two of them out, turning back to my lunch with both anticipation and confusion.
Just who was Professor Lupin, anyway?
"Knock, knock knock knock knock, knock… knock knock!" I knocked in a distinct pattern, grinning at my brother, who rolled his eyes.
"Interesting knocking pattern," he commented with a shrug. "Probably would've been more interesting if it served any particular purpose."
"Ah, but Harry, that is where you're wrong," I replied, mussing his hair affectionately. "It does serve a particular purpose. Watch and learn, dear brother."
And just as I finished speaking, the door swung open, revealing Professor Lupin in all of his perfectly timed glory. I grinned at Harry as he stepped aside, gesturing for us to enter.
The office was like none I'd seen before. Various books lined shelves throughout the room – some educational, like, 'A Guide to Dark Arts Defense,' and others for entertainment, like, 'Jane Eyre' (which I had to suppress a snicker at). A tank filled with dark water rested on a table, and the desk at the front of the room was tidy and neat, with a couple of stacks of parchment, one taller than the other – he had obviously been marking them before I knocked.
"Take a seat, take a seat," he said, closing the door behind us. "In the chairs on the other side of the desk, preferably, Holly," he added, and I jumped up from his chair, sitting in the one next to Harry (which was considerably less comfortable, I'll have you know).
"How do you know my name, sir?" I asked almost immediately after sitting down.
"That relates to the question I was just about to ask you," he replied. "How did you know my nickname?"
I frowned, confused as to what he was referring to, before suddenly realizing it. "I… don't know, sir," I replied, looking down at my lap. "It just – well – slipped."
"Perhaps," he mused, "but what you fail to realize is exactly why it slipped." Lupin sighed. "Harry, Holly, your parents were two of the kindest people I've ever met. Though perhaps I see them through rose colored glasses, because they were two of my best friends. I knew the two of you as babies, though I did not know that there were two of you after that Halloween night."
"So, you knew our parents, were friends with our parents, and like many others, were kept in the dark about Holly's being alive?" summarized Harry.
"Yes," confirmed Lupin. "I knew it was you the moment I saw you, Holly, you're the spitting image of your mother."
"But what if it was sheer coincidence and my name actually was Willow Leavitt?" I asked curiously. "How did you know for sure, sir?"
"Well," he replied. "Let's just say that I wasn't exactly sleeping on that train."
I gasped. "So he is not only a professor who knew our parents, but a deceiver, Harry! So incredibly resourceful. Here I was, thinking our parents were typical Gryffindors. Providing, of course, that you are a Slytherin, professor."
"You're very much like your father, Pu- Holly." I raised an eyebrow, bewildered as what he tried to say didn't escape my notice. "I trust it's a very… interesting story about why you're alive, but that's not what I needed to talk to the two of you about."
"Then what is it, professor?" asked Harry.
"The two of you had very bad reactions to the Dementors that were on the train yesterday," explained Lupin. "And I wanted to first warn the two of you to be careful around them – they are not going to be coming onto school grounds, luckily, but you should be cautious, especially when you go into Hogsmeade."
"No need to worry, professor, we won't be going," replied Harry suddenly. I rolled my eyes.
"He's still a bit dejected about not getting his permission slip signed," I explained to Lupin. "Though it's not my fault you went and blew up our aunt, Harry, so no more sulking." I turned to the professor with a smile. "Was that all you needed, professor?"
"That will be all," he replied, and scooted the chair back from his desk, Harry and I doing the same. I stopped for a moment, looking at the tank and trying to discern the creature within from the murky water.
"That's a Grindylow," explained Professor Lupin. "We'll be studying them next week."
I nodded, and on that note followed my brother out of the classroom, waving at the professor who had known my parents before shutting the door behind me.