Harry stayed in the hospital wing all weekend, and his fall left a tense feeling all throughout the school. He was the topic of everyone's conversation. Oriane was convinced she would have gone mad had she not gone with Cedric to visit him in the hospital. The stories everyone retold were over exaggerated, and had almost convinced several students he was actually dead.
It wasn't until that following Monday that things got better. Harry was back, which quelled the rumors of the previous quidditch game. However, Draco Malfoy seemed to be in good health again, much to the four roommates' dismay. He spent most of his meal times dramatically reenacting Harry's fall, now with the use of both his arms.
"You'd think he'd want to snog Harry, wouldn't you?" Calista mumbled as she stabbed her eggs. "With how often he teases him."
"People like Malfoy have got nothing better to do than mock others," Charlotte sighed. "The only thing that prat's got going for him is his blood status."
The girls fell quiet once more as they continued eating their breakfast. After a long while of silence, a handful of owls quickly burst into the hall, each carrying a letter or package of sorts.
Everyone turned their attention upwards, catching their items as the owls dropped it for them. Out of the four of them, Calista was the only one this time around to receive a letter. It was a simple, plain red envelope.
"No way," Charlotte said, eyes staring at the envelope, "is that a Howler?"
Calista stared blankly at the letter, emotions difficult to read as she flipped the letter over, reading the sending address. "It appears so," she said dully. She then tossed the letter onto her empty plate, bacon grease immediately soaking into the envelope. Then, she took out her wand, muttered a simple incendio and the letter lit into flames. A gasp erupted from Emerald as she grabbed her goblet, attempting to throw her water onto the now burning letter. But before she could, Calista stopped her.
"What are you doing?" Emerald asked, eyes wildly looking at the students around them. They were beginning to attract attention. "Put that out before one of the professors sees it!"
But the flames were quick to die out, and there was nothing left on Calista's plate except for smoldering ashes. "If my father wishes to yell at me, he may do so in person," she muttered.
"Yell at you?" Oriane repeated. "Why would he yell at you?"
Calista sighed, resting her chin in her hand as she leaned onto the table. Her eyes were still glued to the ashes on her plate. "I could think of a lot of reasons, really," she said, a small grin appearing. "But I imagine my grades would be the biggest one."
Emerald's eyes looked back at the mess on Calista's plate. "Maybe I should tutor you after all…"
As the end of semester was nearing, classes proved to become more and more difficult. Everyone was preparing for end of semester exams, and even Oriane, who loved learning, was finding it all a bit daunting.
However, none of that anxiety compared to the fear she felt standing outside of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. She had managed to scrape by with a good grade in Potions for the time being, but she wasn't sure Snape would be so kind to her on her essay about werewolves. Especially with how she made a fool of herself in class last time.
"I forgot about the essay," Calista admitted as the girls stared at the entrance to the room. "I'm dead."
"How could you forget?" Emerald questioned, clutching her own essay in her hand.
"When I think about homework, I don't think about Snape assigning anything for DADA!" she defended. "Maybe I should pretend I'm sick. Do you think Madam Pomfrey will show any mercy?"
Charlotte showed a slight smirk. "I could always break your nose right quick if you'd like?"
"No thanks, I intend to keep my gorgeous looks."
They had to enter the classroom eventually, which they did, forcing Oriane to take the lead. To their pleasant surprise, Snape was no longer substituting. Remus had returned from being sick, though he certainly still looked ill. Red, irritated veins popped from his tired eyes, and he looked as if he had aged five years over the weekend. Yet he still greeted his students with a warm smile, and they were certainly glad to see him.
"Don't worry about the essay on werewolves," Remus assured the girls as they entered, his eyes focused on the parchment in Emerald's hands. "I've already told my other classes I'll speak with Professor Snape about it."
Emerald proceeded to rip her essay to shreds with an annoyed sigh.
Forgetting about werewolves, the class continued to have a wonderful lesson about Hinkypunks. Terrible, wisp like creatures that lured unsuspecting victims into bogs. But though he kept his energy high, Oriane couldn't help but notice how tired Remus was. Even his robes looked just as fried as he was.
The class ended with the strike of the bell. Students flooded out of the classroom in good spirits, relieved to not turn in their ridiculous essay on werewolves. As her roommates left the room, and urged her to do the same, Oriane couldn't help but stay behind, her attention fully on Remus.
He noticed her instantly, that shy quiet girl with her hair half the length of her body. A smile appeared on his lips as he carefully sat at his desk, though his eyes didn't leave her.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, slowly approaching his desk.
"Better," he said. "Tired, but better."
Oriane smiled. "Good. I'm glad you're back. Snape is a good teacher but… well, you're a bit more understanding of your students."
This caused Remus to smile a small, cheery smile, as if he were a schoolboy. "The jump to werewolves is a big one," he admitted, looking down at his desk. "I'll make sure to leave better substitute notes, should I get sick again."
Merely mentioning the creature caused Oriane's body to stiffen. Everytime she thought of it, all she could see was that werewolf from her vision. It's terrible, human-like eyes locked on her. How it lunged at her as if it wanted to kill her.
A different feeling overwhelmed her body. Her heart beat so loud in her chest it nearly drowned out the other sounds around her. She kept thinking back. Calista in the rain. A shaggy dog by a painting. A werewolf lunging to attack her. One of those figments of her imagination had become reality.
Though seeing things wasn't exactly uncommon in the wizarding world, it wasn't looked at highly, either. But Remus was a family friend. Someone Esme trusted, and so by proxy, Oriane as well. She had the overwhelming urge to tell Remus about it. About everything. Yet this pit of doubt ate away at her stomach, making her feel sick.
"I hated the way he talked about werewolves," Oriane said, voice shaking.
Remus tilted his head to the side, eyes returning to look back up at the girl. "How so?"
She swallowed hard. The words were at the very tip of her tongue. Ready to burst out of her mouth and into reality. Speaking was both the easiest and hardest thing she had ever done.
"When he was… doing his lecture it was as if… it was like there was a werewolf, right in front of me. Trying to hurt me." The words stumbled out of her mouth in a mess. Ideas interrupting one another before they even had the chance to fully form.
Remus looked stunned. Almost a bit confused, even. "Severus has always been very descriptive," he concluded.
No. He got it all wrong. Her attempt in trying to admit her visions had gone terribly awry. It wasn't too late. There was always the opportunity to just blurt it out and explain after. But looking at his tired, green eyes, and the deep set scars in his face, she couldn't bring herself to do it.
"Right," she stuttered, beginning to walk away from his desk. "I should get going. I'm glad you're feeling better Remus- er… Lupin… Professor."
And with that, she was gone, leaving behind nothing but a very confused Remus Lupin.
On the last weekend of term, Oriane found herself bundled up in her large winter coat. Glittery snow coated the entirety of Hogsmeade as the picture perfect village was decorated to fit the theme of Christmas. Beautiful, enchanted candles floated around evergreen trees, and dark green wreaths hung on nearly every shop door. A special buzz was in the air as students flocked from store to store, enjoying the end of the semester.
"Are any of you guys staying over Christmas break?" Calista asked as they exited Honeydukes.
Emerald shook her head. "My parents invited my aunt and uncle to stay with us for the holiday. I'll be heading home to visit them."
Calista sighed.
"Yeah, good old Greggory wants me home too," Charlotte said. "Something about spoiling his only niece or whatever."
Once more, Calista sighed. In a desperate act, she then turned to Oriane, batting her eyes. "What about you, Ori?"
A sheepish smile crossed her lips. "I'll be going home to my aunt for the holiday."
All hope was lost. Calista let out a long dramatic sigh as her shoulders slumped. She nearly dropped her bags. "You're telling me I'm going to be alone all break?"
"Why aren't you going home?" Oriane asked.
She shrugged. "Parents are going out of the country for some event. I didn't wanna go with them, and they wont let me stay at home alone so…"
"Oh, whatever," Emerald rolled her eyes. "You just didn't want to deal with whatever that Howler from a few weeks back was about."
Calista grinned. "Maybe that, too."
The girls paused in the street, taking in the sight around them. Despite the snow, it wasn't all that cold out. In fact, Oriane was sincerely considering taking her coat off with all the walking they were doing. And every shop they visited was toasty warm, which didn't help with her overheating.
"Where to next?" Emerald asked. Her eyes were locked onto the music shop, with its 'Closed for the Holiday' sign on the door.
"What about the Three Broomsticks?" Calista suggested.
"No way," Charlotte said, shaking her head. "I looked through the window when we passed by earlier. That place was packed."
"Okay, what about Hogs Head?" Calista asked.
Emerald shook her head. "Ew, no way. That place is disgusting."
Frustrated, Calista threw her hands up into the air, her bags ruffling in the process. "Well, I want a butterbeer. I don't care where it's from, but I'm getting one."
Oriane was silent as the girls continued their bickering. Her eyes wandered over to the Three Broomsticks. People were filing in and out like crazy, which made sense once she thought about it. It wasn't just the end of term for students, but for the professors as well. Of course the locals would want to celebrate the upcoming holiday, too.
She turned back to her friends, an idea forming. "I could always go in and see if we could get a table," she suggested. "Or I could wait for an opening and come out and get you guys when one opens up."
The girls fell silent for a moment as they thought about Oriane's proposition. Charlotte shrugged. "Yeah, that sounds fine."
"Okay, well, while you're searching, we'll mess around in Zonko's," Calista grinned, eyeing the joke shop not too far away.
Relieved to not have to be a part of Calista's prank escapade, Oriane entered the Three Broomsticks alone. Charlotte had been right about the amount of patrons in there. Standing in the entrance, she couldn't see a single open table. Locals had lined up at the bar, and students were taking a majority of the tables up front.
Refusing to give up so quickly, Oriane began to weave through the tables in the pub. It was so warm, she found herself needing to take her coat off during her search. A delicious cinnamon scent wafted through the air, and a bright Christmas tree added light to the normally dim pub. Evergreen wreaths and garland hung from the walls and ceiling, adding in a pop of color against the dark wood of the building.
Her search finally came to an end as she reached the back of the pub. It was the only empty table she could find, but it would perfectly fit the four of them, as it could seat as many as six. Just as she was about to turn around, though, she noticed a group of students sitting right next to the Christmas tree.
It was Harry, Ron, and Hermione; a group she had interacted with regrettably rarely since the beginning of the year. They all sat together, butterbeer in hand, laughing the afternoon away.
It was nice to see Harry in a much better state than he had been previously. Unconscious after surviving a near fifty foot fall. Without even thinking about it, she walked over to their table, only to be greeted by wide eyes.
"Oh good," Ron said, letting out a breath. "It's only you."
"Only me?" Oriane repeated, head tilting to one side. "Are you guys trying to hide from someone?"
"Maybe little," Harry said with a playful grin.
Ron let out a grumble as his eyes scanned the pub. "Why don't you take a seat? You're drawing attention."
Hermione scooted over, making room for Oriane who quickly sat on the plush padding. Once she made herself comfortable, she couldn't help but notice how the others stared at one another. It was as if they were having a silent conversation; an argument without words.
"Is… everything alright?" Oriane asked, cautiously.
All eyes turned to Harry, who stared blankly for a moment. "I'm not supposed to be here in Hogsmeade," he admitted. "Never got my permission form signed."
"What?" she questioned, her voice low. "How did you get past the dementors?"
Silence fell over the table as everyone looked at Harry, awaiting his answer. "Fred and George taught me a trick," he said simply.
She had a strange feeling that Harry was withholding a bit of the truth from her, but she didn't press. In reality, the two hardly knew one another, having only interacted a handful of times. He didn't owe her a full explanation.
"Well, I suppose it is Christmas. You deserve a break from the castle, Harry," Oriane admitted with a smile.
Ron grinned, glancing at Hermione. "See?" he taunted.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"You should get a tankard and join us," Harry suggested, motioning to the empty table space in front of Oriane.
She shook her head. "Thank you, but I told my roommates I would try and find a table for us all to sit at. I'll probably take this one next to you guys, though," she said, turning around to point at the table next to them.
While her head was faced towards the other table, the door to the Three Broomsticks opened. A flurry of snowflakes wandered inside, followed by Professors McGonagall and Flitwick. Behind them was Hagrid, towering over the others. He seemed to be in deep conversation with a man in lime green clothes and a bowler hat.
She froze upon noticing the shorter man. He looked terribly familiar. An older gentleman with greying hair. Where had she seen him before?
"Is that… Cornelius Fudge?" Oriane wondered.
She quickly turned her attention to the others as Ron and Hermione shoved Harry under the table. Their eyes were wide as they watched the professors enter the pub. Once Harry was out of sight, the professors, along with Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, began to make their way towards the empty table right next to theirs.