Chapter Three

"Miss Poole, are you paying attention?"

The question rang out in the Transfiguration classroom. As seventh years, all four houses were combined into one room, because only a few made it to the class. Professor McGonagall only accepted those with exceeds expectations or higher, unless a compelling case was made to convince her otherwise. Noemie had managed to score an O on the O.W.L.S. exam, which was quite frankly a miracle. At nine o'clock on a Monday morning, she couldn't be the only one struggling to pay attention, but Professor McGonagall had high expectations for her and seemed to take a certain satisfaction in catching her off guard.

"Yes, Professor, of course," Noemie said, straightening up in her chair. She hadn't been paying attention, actually, her mind drifting to the letter she'd gotten that morning from her mother.

"Then you may be able to answer my question," Professor McGonagall replied, crossing her arms, a no-nonsense look on her face. She was clearly disturbed by the behavior in the class, something Noemie hadn't even noticed, but when she thought back on it, there had been a suspicious amount of giggling only a few seconds earlier.

Her mount hung open for a moment, her cheeks turning red. "I'm sorry, Professor, I can't," she admitted. She looked down at her notes, half an empty sheet of parchment taunting her.

"You would all do well to remember that your N.E.W.T.S. are coming up fast," Professor McGonagall said. Noemie glanced at Alice, who was nodding dutifully. Alice and Frank, like most of James's friends, wanted to be aurors, so they needed the class. Noemie was only there to appease her father. "I might have accepted a bit of this behavior last year," Professor McGonagall continued, "but last year, your N.E.W.T.S. were over a year away. Now, they aren't. You must take all classes seriously if you wish to do well."

There was a general murmur of apology, from Noemie as well. She wondered if Professor McGonagall would say anything to her father about what had occurred during class. The thought sent a chill down her spine, and Noemie swore she could feel his breath on her neck as he swung his whip over her shoulder, preparing to place a blow on her back.

Professor McGonagall moved ahead, unaware of the internal panic Noemie was now facing. Remus Lupin was able to answer the question easily enough, with Lily Evans half fuming from not getting a chance to show off her own intelligence.

Noemie tried to put the panic in the back of her mind and just pay attention, so that Professor McGonagall would see she was actually trying. By the end of class, her parchment was full of notes, and she slowly tucked it into her bookbag. Her classmates were trickling out of the room, and, because no one was paying her much attention, Noemie quietly approached Professor McGonagall's desk.

"Excuse me, Professor," Noemie said softly. "I was wondering if I might ask you a question?"

Professor McGonagall, who'd been shuffling her parchment and pulling out different materials, nodded. "Ask away, Miss Poole."

She forced air into her lungs. The panic she'd held back seemed to eat at her mind, clawing its way closer to the forefront. "Do you… do you intend to tell my father about today?"

"Your father?" Professor McGonagall asked, raising an eyebrow slowly.

"I know he asks after my professors," Noemie said slowly. "I was only wondering if my inability to answer that question would… come up…"

Noemie could feel Professor McGonagall studying her face. "If I made it a habit of alerting my students's parents to every unanswered question, I would have far too many letters to write. If your father has questions about my class, he may ask you, like any other parent."

The panic subsided, slightly. "Thank you, Professor," Noemie said quietly. "I will do better next time."

"I'm aware," Professor McGonagall replied.

Noemie nodded at her before quietly excusing herself from the room, putting a trembling hand to her temple as if it would help quiet the anxiety in her mind.

She had mistakenly assumed that her friends would be gone by then, off to their next class. None of her friends were in Ancient Runes, so they had no reason to stand outside the door and wait. And yet, when she exited, there stood Frank, Alice, and James. At any other moment in time, Noemie would have remarked that they were a delightfully peculiar trio, but now, she paused in the corridor, stunned.

"Was everything alright with McGonagall?" James asked.

Noemie blinked, breathed, giving herself a moment to come up with an answer. "Of course," she said. "I wanted to follow up on something she had said is all."

"I could have sworn I heard you mention your father," Alice stated.

Noemie smiled and nodded. "I did," she said. "Only to ask if his subject affects Transfiguration at all. You know, phases of the moon and constellations and everything."

By the looks on the face they didn't believe her. But they also didn't push. It was part of the reason Noemie was friends with them. They didn't challenge her when something didn't line up.

"Don't forget we're having an extra practice tonight," James told her.

"And Alice and I will see you at lunch," Frank added.

Noemie nodded. "Enjoy Divination," she said, heading in the direction of the Ancient Runes classroom. She'd only taken it because it would please her father, as it was considered one of the more difficult courses, along with Arithmancy, which she also took.

Ancient Runes was not the popular class to take, especially after the fifth year, which meant there were very few Gryffindors in attendance. In fact, only herself, Remus Lupin, and Lily Evans were there. Noemie was not naive enough to think she was on par academically with the pair, but they were perfectly pleasant to her. Lily would alternate with a Hufflepuff girl to sit with Noemie during one class, and Remus during the next. Still, neither Lily, Remus, or Professor Watson seemed to notice the distraction that plagued her as she once again reflected on the letter her mother had sent.

You will go to your father's chambers tonight, and if you don't, Benjamin will go tomorrow.

There was no explanation. It broke pattern, she normally only had to go once per week, and during the school year her mother was almost never involved. Noemie was pretty confident she could count on both hands the number of times her mother had sent her a letter while at Hogwarts. The only thought she had was that there must be some exceptionally awful reason that she was being sent to see her father that evening, and even more importantly, why it was her mother instructing her to go.

It was impossible to focus that day. Noemie was quiet during lunch, and was not particularly strong in Charms or History of Magic. Charms was normally one of her strongest subjects, so she knew it looked bad that she was so unfocused.

Immediately after classes was another quidditch practice, in which Noemie missed at least five goals, and dropped the quaffle twice. James looked at her like she was insane, and Noemie couldn't bring herself to make eye contact with him because if she did, he would surely be able to see the anxiety on her face.

James was less than willing to let her abysmal performance go without scolding, however, because as soon as they landed, he stormed over to her. "Poole! What the bloody hell was that?"

Noemie did not meet his eyes and instead looked at her broom. "Just an off night, James, you've had them too."

"I need our strongest players on this pitch this year to win the cup," he said hotly, the team standing nearby and trying not to be too obvious about listening in to James yelling at her. "Are you one of my strongest players or not?"

"I am," Noemie said.

"Then prove it!" he replied. "Too many nights like that and you're not going to be my second, you hear me?"

"I hear you," Noemie said.

James huffed, his face red from frustration and the wind. In a quieter voice, he asked, "Did something happen?"

"No," she said firmly. "Like I said, just an off night. I'll be better next practice."

James shook his head, walking back to the rest of the team to address them. Noemie walked off the pitch alone, returning her broom to the broom shed. She had only a few minutes to eat dinner before she needed to walk up to her father's chambers. He'd informed her that, unlike their normal arrangement, she was not to come after curfew, and was instead supposed to be in his chambers by exactly half past seven. Seeing as James had worked them for almost three hours, Noemie was running short on time.

She managed to scarf down a sandwich before leaving the Gryffindor table without Alice or Frank noticing, the pair too wrapped up in each other's conversation to notice her quick appearance and equally quick disappearance. The only thing she paused for in the Great Hall was to scan the Slytherin table for her younger brother's messy blonde hair. She had seen him laughing with friends, carefree. It both made her heart ache and reaffirmed that she was doing right by him.

The walk to her father's chambers was even lonelier now than it was usually, with students passing by her unaware, laughing with each other, happy. Noemie had, on a few rare occasions, seen a muggle movie, and felt like she was in the dramatic moments where the protagonist approached their own death, a sort of death march. She didn't think her parents would kill her, especially not while she was still a student at Hogwarts, but after that, she wasn't sure.

The higher she got, the less students were present. She passed a few prefects on their rounds, a few giggling first years still exploring the castle, and even Peeves. He blew a raspberry at her but otherwise continued swinging on the light fixture he was currently attached to. The sounds of her fellow students disappeared as she reached the floor her father's chambers were situated on. The darkness of the evening was closing in on her and the corridors, now lit by only flickering firelight, seemed eerie.

Noemie approached the door again, and began slowly counting the different knots, trying to gather the courage to knock on the door. It would be so much easier to refuse to come. But Benji was still so happy, so pure. She couldn't bear the thought of him feeling the same hollowness as her, of never feeling like a real person because his life was plagued by violence.

Someone might call her crazy, if they knew the truth. But her father was too powerful and too well liked in the wizarding world. No one would believe her. No one would believe that she was afraid of her own mother, a muggle, who had no magic to protect her. Noemie would be the first to say that muggles could be equally powerful, if not in some ways even more deadly. Her mother had an assortment of muggle weapons, some of which she liked to use to inflict her punishments, some that her father had begun using as well. They were almost worse than any magic spell she could think of.

She once again questioned her own placement in Gryffindor. It had never fully made sense. It might have been more courageous to seek help instead of slinking up to her father's chambers on a weekly basis. But Noemie knew there really was no one who could help her. There was no escape.

She knocked on the door.