The students returned from Hogsmeade just before the Hallowe'en feast, which was to be held in celebration of Halloween. Aurora stood at the top of the staircase, watching as clusters of friends poured into the castle. Their faces were flushed from the cool October air, and their laughter echoed through the stone corridors, mingling with the rustle of cloaks and the clatter of their footsteps.
Many carried bulging bags filled with sweets from Honeydukes and prank supplies from Zonko's, their treasures clutched tightly as they shared stories of the day's adventures. Among the crowd, Aurora spotted Lucretia, Ron, and Hermione weaving through the throng. The trio's cheerful voices carried upward as they greeted Harry in the Entrance Hall. His face lit up at the sight of them, and though he seemed content to stand back and listen, there was a quiet happiness in his expression that warmed her heart.
Aurora lingered for a moment, her arms crossed lightly, a small smile playing on her lips. It was a rare joy to see Harry look so at ease, even if only briefly. The camaraderie in the hall below was infectious, the kind of happiness that seemed to bring the old castle itself to life.
The gentle touch of a hand on her shoulder made her flinch slightly, and she turned quickly. Her tension eased when she saw Remus standing beside her, his smile kind and warm. His presence, as always, seemed to carry a calming steadiness.
"They look happy," he said, his voice low but thoughtful as his gaze followed hers to the students below.
Aurora nodded, exhaling softly as if releasing the weight of the day. "Yes," she replied, her tone light. "We should probably head to the Great Hall... Or they'll think we're odd for standing here like this."
They shared a quiet laugh, their voices blending into the ambient hum of the students. Slowly, they began to descend the staircase arm in arm. Aurora's steps matched Remus's unhurried pace, the simple companionship between them providing a comforting contrast to the bustle around them.
At that moment, everything seemed calm, the castle alive with warmth and celebration. Yet there was no hint of what lay ahead, that the night would end in chaos, marked by the shadow of a notorious Azkaban prisoner breaking into Hogwarts, a chill that would shatter the festive air.
Aurora had always loved Halloween at Hogwarts. Dinner on this night was especially magical. Well, it was always magical, this was a school of witchcraft and wizardry, after all, but tonight, the enchantment seemed heightened. You could feel it in the air, a festive energy that hummed through the Great Hall.
The long tables were piled high with steaming dishes, glistening sweets, and pitchers of spiced pumpkin juice. Students talked and laughed, their voices blending into a cheerful cacophony that filled the vast space. Candles floated above their heads, casting flickering golden light over the sea of smiling faces.
Ghosts flitted between the tables, theirethereal forms adding a whimsical charm to the scene. It was as if the castle itself had joined in the celebration. Everything seemed perfect, every detail in its rightful place.
For a brief, precious moment, no one seemed worried about anything. They lived fully in the now, caught up in the joy of the evening.
That evening was one of the most joyous in a long time for the vast majority of the castle's inhabitants. Aurora watched as students, their bellies full from the sumptuous feast, stood up sluggishly from the tables. Many were clearly ready to retreat to their dormitories and common rooms, eager for a well-earned rest.
The Great Hall began to empty slowly, though a few teachers lingered, engaged in quiet conversations amidst the fading glow of the enchanted candles. The atmosphere remained warm and content, a lingering echo of the evening's celebration.
But the tranquility was shattered when the doors burst open, and a Gryffindor student ran in, breathless and shouting. "The Fat Lady's portrait has been destroyed, she's gone!"
The shock rippled through the hall like a jolt of lightning. Every member of the teaching staff present immediately sprang to their feet, their expressions turning grim. Without hesitation, they rushed out of the hall, their hurried footsteps echoing off the stone walls as they made their way toward the Gryffindor common room.
As Moonridge and the other teachers hurried toward the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, they were met with a wall of students. The entire house had crowded into the corridor, their worried chatter and overlapping questions creating a chaotic hum that echoed through the castle. It was nearly impossible to get close to the portrait, but with some effort, they managed to squeeze through the throng.
What awaited them was a chilling sight, a slashed and mangled portrait. The Fat Lady was nowhere to be seen, her usual vibrant frame conspicuously empty. The damage to the portrait told a story of violence, the jagged tears in the canvas stark against the dimly lit corridor.
Aurora felt an unsettling tightness in her chest, but her fear truly took hold when Peeves, the castle poltergeist, floated down with his mischievous grin and sing-song voice. "Oh, such a fright she got! Screaming, screeching, poor Fat Lady! But who could blame her? Who else but Sirius Black, mad as ever, slashed her to bits!"
The words hung in the air, heavier than the chill of the evening. A ripple of shock coursed through the assembled crowd, but for Aurora, it was more than shock—it was dread. Black, the infamous prisoner of Azkaban, had been here, within these walls, just steps away from where they all now stood.
Dumbledore had ordered all students to sleep in the Great Hall that night while the teachers patrolled the corridors to confirm whether Sirius Black was still inside the castle. Aurora was assigned to a corridor on the third floor, a task she accepted reluctantly. She would have much preferred to patrol near her chambers, which were closer to the Great Hall and offered a small sense of familiarity and safety. It was hard for her to admit, even to herself, but she was deeply afraid of the infamous escapee from Azkaban. Hatred for this man ran deep, especially among her own house, and the thought of encountering him filled her with dread.
As the night wore on, every sound seemed amplified in the stillness of the castle. Each creak of the floorboards, each whispered murmur from a portrait, and even the faint rustle of wind outside made her flinch. Her heart pounded in her chest, a relentless, deafening rhythm that seemed to echo in her ears. Though her wand was gripped tightly in her hand, it offered little comfort.
Aurora knew that if she were to come face-to-face with Black now, she wouldn't stand a chance. She felt utterly defenseless, frozen by the weight of her fear. The mere thought of attempting a spell seemed laughable, her mind was too clouded, her hands too unsteady.
Her breathing quickened as despair crept in. She was a teacher, an adult meant to inspire bravery in others, but here she was, trembling like a frightened first-year. The self-reproach stung, deepening her sense of helplessness. A single tear escaped and slid down her cheek, hot against her cold skin.
She paused for a moment, leaning against the wall and pressing her free hand to her chest in a futile attempt to steady her breathing. She couldn't deny it any longer, she had had enough of this night. Every step, every second in that corridor felt like an eternity, and her fear was consuming her from the inside out.
"Aurora? Are you okay?" a familiar male voice called out, breaking the oppressive silence of the hallway.
Remus. It was Remus. Relief swept over her like a wave, easing the tight knot of fear in her chest. Everything was okay. It was just Remus. No one else. Just him. She was safe.
"Hey," he whispered gently, his voice soft and steady as he approached her. "What happened?"
His tone was a quiet balm, carrying warmth and reassurance in every word. He crouched beside her, leaning in carefully, as if afraid she might break under the weight of his presence. Aurora hadn't realized how small and fragile she must have looked, curled up against the cold stone wall, her knees drawn tightly to her chest.
The dim corridor seemed to press in on them, the flickering torchlight casting long, unsteady shadows that danced across her tear-streaked face. She blinked up at him, struggling to steady her breath, the sound of his calm voice grounding her in the present.
"Do you need a break?" he asked, his words tender but firm, an anchor in her storm of fear. "Come on, my classroom is just around the corner. We'll have some tea and chocolate. It'll help."
Remus extended a hand, his movements slow and deliberate, giving her time to respond. When she hesitantly placed her trembling fingers in his, he helped her to her feet with a gentleness that brought a fresh sting of tears to her eyes.
His arm slipped around her shoulders, not tightly, but just enough to steady her as they began to walk. She leaned into his quiet strength, her steps uneven at first but gradually finding rhythm beside his. The stone walls seemed less imposing with him beside her, his calm presence warding off the lingering echoes of fear.
Ahead, the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom came into view, its heavy door a welcome sight. The thought of warmth, light, and Remus's soothing company drew her forward, and with each step, the crushing weight of the evening began to lift, replaced by a tentative sense of safety.
Lupin had decided at the last minute to host her in his quarters. His office was functional and professional, but its austere walls and rows of dusty tomes offered little comfort. Moonridge needed something softer—a place where warmth and reassurance could settle over her like a well-worn cloak. His living room, with its mismatched furniture and softly glowing fireplace, provided just that.
He guided her to the couch with quiet care, as if afraid that any sudden movement might shatter her fragile composure. The blanket he draped over her shoulders was thick and slightly frayed at the edges, smelling faintly of lavender and woodsmoke. She pulled it tightly around herself, cocooning against the invisible chill that lingered after her patrol.
Remus moved efficiently, yet unhurriedly, toward the cabinet where he kept his modest treasures. The rhythmic clinking of teacups and the soft rustle of a chocolate wrapper filled the silence, grounding Aurora as she let out a shaky breath. The tea was ready in moments—two steaming mugs, their mismatched designs an endearing glimpse of his personal life. He handed one to her before taking a seat in the armchair opposite.
Aurora cradled the mug in her hands, savoring its warmth as it seeped into her palms. The faint aroma of chamomile mingled with the earthy scent of his quarters, creating an unexpected sense of calm. She took a small sip, her hands trembling only slightly as she lowered the mug.
"Aurora," Remus began softly, his voice low and soothing, "may I ask what happened in the hallway?"
She froze for a moment, her gaze dropping to the tea in her lap. The question felt heavier than it should have, laden with self-recrimination she didn't yet have the words to explain.
"I got scared," she admitted at last, her voice barely audible over the crackling fire.
"Scared?" His tone was careful, concerned but not pressing. "Did you see anything? Something suspicious? Him?"
His questions came quickly, sharpened by instinct, but when she shook her head, his expression softened again.
"No," she murmured. "I was just scared."
Her cheeks flushed as she said it. How ridiculous it sounded—just scared.She was supposed to be a protector, a figure of authority. How could she justify being so rattled by nothing at all?
"You know," Remus said gently, his perceptive gaze not missing the flicker of shame in her eyes, "fear is not something we should be ashamed of. We're all afraid of something."
The kindness in his tone surprised her. She lifted her eyes to meet his, finding no judgment there—only a quiet understanding that made her chest tighten.
"I, for example," he continued with a faint smile, "am very afraid of the moon."
"The moon?!" Aurora blurted out, her surprise momentarily cutting through the tension. Her brow furrowed, curiosity lighting up her face.
"I hate what the moon does to me," he said, his voice steady but tinged with a sadness that made her stomach twist. He leaned back slightly, as if retreating into his own thoughts. "But I understand that it can be beautiful to someone else. From your reaction, I can see you're one of those people."
Aurora felt the corners of her lips twitch upward, a soft smile breaking through despite the heaviness of the evening.
"More chocolate?" Remus asked, his tone shifting effortlessly to something lighter, his gaze warm and inviting.
She nodded, and as he passed her another piece, she felt her tension begin to ebb. The fear that had gripped her earlier hadn't vanished, but it no longer felt insurmountable.