Hey, guys! Back again!
So, to those of you who didn't see the notice in the last chapter, I sort of made a mistake. When Nora is talking to Remus about Julia and Harry, I wrote that Gryffindor is playing Hufflepuff but at this time in the story Gryffindor is still supposed to be playing Slytherin, it's only later on that Slytherin asks for a change and Gryffindor plays Hufflepuff. Sorry for the confusion, but it's been corrected already and now everything makes sense again!
Also, I just want to point out that no, there will not be a Tristan/Hermione pairing. I do have a few things in store for them, but Hermione belongs with Ron, in my opinion they're very suited for each other.
Finally, I would like to thank everyone for the support, you're incredible! A very special thanks in particular to Wikked, BerrieFruit and WindSongEnchantment for the wonderful reviews, your words seriously make my day brighter!
Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban Timeline
"He Holds the Moon"
ooo
"A kind gesture can reach a wound that only compassion can heal."
- Life, the Truth, and Being Free, Steve Maraboli
HOGSMEAD
Halloween morning arrived with clear skies and pale sunshine.
Nora managed to sleep until late again, waking only when Emma started shaking her excitedly. Emma always dolled up for the first Hogsmead trip and always loved doing the same for Nora. As per tradition, she let Emma pick her clothes, fix her hair and do her makeup before they finally went down to meet Liam in the common room.
"Great dress," he complimented on the way for breakfast.
Nora brushed a hand over her midnight blue dress. "You think so?"
"Brings out your eyes."
It was a good choice, she had to agree. And she also liked how Emma had pinned half of her hair back and away from her face.
"Are you trying to sweeten me up because you've been a complete twat to me all week?" Nora asked, only half joking. Beside her, Emma made a very unladylike snort.
"I haven't," argued Liam, offended.
"Yeah, you have," said Emma with a laugh.
Nora shot Liam a smug look. "Your own sister says so."
"Oh please, Emma jumps at every chance to mock me. I can't believe you called me a twat. Who even calls someone that? Twelve year old girls?"
"Shut up," Nora laughed.
It all started last Sunday. After spending the afternoon with Professor Lupin, the sun was well past set and the sky dark when she made it back to the common room. Her friends pounced the first chance they got, demanding to know where she had disappeared off to for so long. Stupidly enough, she made the mistake of telling them. Liam had chewed her ear off about misconduct and inappropriate behaviour, meanwhile Emma and Julia thought it was hilarious. They'd been teasing her mercilessly about the whole thing ever since. A crush, they called it.
Nora had, of course, told Liam to bugger off; there was nothing wrong with liking a teacher's company, but he took her rebuttal quite personally and proceeded to ignore her nearly all week. His aversion of Lupin hadn't lessened over time. In fact, it seemed to have worsened significantly. As for Emma and Julia, well... Nora couldn't exactly deny it, could she? Not to herself at least. She'd never had a crush before, but she was fairly certain it felt a lot like having your heart leap to your throat whenever the object of your affections was near, or experiencing thousands of butterflies flapping around in your stomach every time your eyes connected across the room.
In the Great Hall, Nora spotted Tristan and Harry right away, the latter looking forlorn while pushing his scrambled eggs around in his plate. Telling Emma and Liam to go ahead without her, she took a detour to the Gryffindor table.
"Cheer up, sweetheart." She ruffled Harry's hair, squeezing into the bench between he and Tristan. "I'll get you something from Hogsmead. Whatever you like."
Harry flushed like a red pepper. "You don't have to do that…"
"I'd take her up on it if I were you," Tristan quipped in between shovelling beans and sausage in his mouth. "She's never this generous."
"I get you stuff all the time."
"Only because I ask you to."
"Oh poor you." She rolled her eyes at her brother. "I hate seeing you so down, Harry."
"I'll be fine. Honest."
"I'm staying with him," declared Tristan.
"No, you're not," Harry argued at once. "I said I didn't want you staying behind because of me."
"That's too bad then, innit?" Tristan piled more food onto his plate. "I'm staying anyway."
"Why are you so bloody stubborn all the time?"
"Stubborn's his only state of mind," Nora joked. Tristan offering to stay behind came off as a genuine surprise, he hadn't shut up about Hogsmead all summer.
She ended up having breakfast at the Gryffindor table. Hermione and Ron came down not long after, and Julia was more than happy to join in when she saw them. They met the twins afterwards, then they all walked to the entrance hall together, where Filch was already checking names off a long list, making sure no student without permission slipped past him.
Harry and Tristan stood under the archway that opened to the courtyard still bickering about whether or not Tristan should be staying or going. Nora smiled, amused. Because they were too adorable, and because it was much too fun to embarrass them, she planted one loud kiss on Harry's cheek and another on Tristan's before dashing after her friends.
"D'you see Harry's face? He looked like he might combust into flames," Emma laughed.
"You'll make the kid smitten with you one of these days," Liam said with a hint of playfulness.
"I doubt it," Nora replied good-naturedly. "If he's anything like Tris, girls are nowhere near his radar. Inside their heads is all Quidditch and finding new ways to get in trouble."
"Won't be that way for much longer." Emma kicked a pile of dead leaves so they would scatter wildly in the wind as they started down the path to the stagecoaches. "I was their age when I started thinking about romance."
"Obsessing you mean," Julia quipped.
"Funny, I seem to recall someone dragging me all over the castle to stalk a certain fifth year Seeker when we were younger."
"We agreed never to mention that again!"
Nora and Liam looked at each other and laughed. When he swung an arm over her shoulders, she snuggled against his side. It was much better when they weren't fighting, she decided happily.
"You're getting cozy," Liam teased against her head, where she could feel him smiling. "Am I not a twat anymore?"
"You're occasionally a twat," Nora teased back in similar fashion. "Super warm, though."
"Cheeky girl." He dropped his arm to her waist and pinched her there, making her squeak as she batted his hands away from the ticklish spot.
"What're you idiots doing back there?" Emma called from up ahead, walking backwards and nearly crashing into another student if Julia hadn't pulled her back in time. "Oops! Sorry, McNully, didn't see you!"
Julia rolled her eyes and shouted over the shoulder, "Hurry up already! Won't be any tables left at the pub at this pace!"
And sure enough, Julia was right. When they arrived at the Three Broomsticks, the place was packed. Looking to seek shelter from the bitter cold of autumn, everyone seemed to have had the same idea.
Nora and her friends had been waiting by the entrance for a table to clear for at least fifteen minutes when she spotted Caito in the sea of students, sitting at the back of the room with Andrew and Roger Davis. As though sensing her stare, he turned his head and their eyes met. Nora waved awkwardly, feeling an all too familiar twinge of disappointment when he didn't return the gesture. It was a feeling that quickly melted into surprise as Caito waved her over after leaning across the table to talk to his Quidditch teammates.
"Are you sure about this?" Liam asked as they skirted their way through the crowded pub.
"Not really," Nora admitted. "But beats spending half a day waiting around for a table, doesn't it?"
While Emma nabbed the vacant chair on Caito's left and Julia the one next to her at the head of the table, Nora had no choice but to sit between Caito and Liam. It was the worst place to be in since they both refused to even acknowledge each other's presence.
Their table remained uncomfortably silent for an awfully long time. Andrew cleared his throat, scratching the side of his face, glancing worriedly between Caito and Liam.
"Heard your team's going against up Slytherin this first match," he said to Julia, who immediately perked up at the mention of Quidditch.
"Seems like it! Oliver and I have been working on a new strategy. Last year playing for Gryffindor and all that. I can't wait to see the look on Flint's ugly mug when we wipe the field with them."
Andrew barked a laugh. Next to him, Roger Davis leaned forward, glass of butterbeer cradled in his big hands. He was quite tall and large for a fifteen year old, standing almost at Caito's height, which was impressive.
"Best make good word on it," he said. "It'll knock their egos down a notch before we get to play them. I reckon the less spirited they are, the better our chances of winning."
Caito fixed Roger seriously. "How many times have I told you not to make a game plan on the off-chance the team you're playing against isn't at its best? Don't make me regret naming you my successor."
"You're making baby Davis Captain?" Emma shook her head with mock disappointment. "Ravenclaw's done for once we're gone."
"Shove off, Crowley! I'll be the best Quidditch Captain Hogwarts's ever seen. After Caito, I mean," Roger added with a slick grin toward Caito.
"Smooth, Davis," Julia chuckled.
The topic of Quidditch did the trick at breaking the ice and when Madam Rosmerta stopped by their table they ordered another round of butterbeers for all.
Nora raised her glass eagerly, savouring the taste of warm, buttery foam. In a matter of seconds nearly half had gone.
"Take it easy," Caito whispered in her ear, voice coated with laughter. "Have you forgotten the last time you downed five pints of these?"
She turned red as a traffic light.
There wasn't a high amount of alcohol in butterbeer, certainly not more than wine, but drunk on an empty stomach it climbed to a person's head fast. Their final Hogsmead trip last year had fallen on her birthday, which of course meant they had got a bit carried away with the celebrations. Julia and the twins purchased several bottles from Madam Rosmerta all of which they then enjoyed during a clandestine party in the Prefects bathroom, along with an entire flask of firewhiskey Caito had somehow smuggled from his brother's liquor cabinet. Nora had held on impressively, but after the twins and Julia passed out, utterly smashed, it became apparent that her inhibitions were astoundingly low. She barely remembered the rest of the night. What little she did remember was mortifying. For example, she had a vague memory of trying to strip out of all her clothes to go skinny dipping in the bathtub. She also remembered sharing a few clumsy, awkward kisses with Caito, who was really in no better shape.
"On second thought, maybe you should get drunk again," Caito went on when Nora didn't reply. "The outcome wasn't so bad after all. I'm a bit worried about you going skinny dipping in the lake, though. A tad too cold for that today, I think."
"Oh stop it!" Nora smacked him in the shoulder. "You were ten times more smashed than I was, that night should've been wiped clean from your memory."
"Fat chance," Caito laughed, rubbing his shoulder after she punched him again. "It's well seared into my brain."
Liam suddenly slammed his empty glass down on the table. "Aren't you acting a bit too chummy for someone who's been pretending Nora doesn't exist?"
"I don't see how that's any of your business," Caito said coldly.
"Nora's my best friend," Liam replied in the same chilly tone. "Her business is my business."
"Liam, stop," Nora intervened before Caito could get another word out. "I appreciate what you're doing, but I don't need you to fight my battles. Caito and I are fine. Besides, aren't we all having a perfectly pleasant time?"
"You're just going to forgive him?" Liam's stormy blue eyes flashed, hurt and accusing. "After he's behaved like a selfish prat?"
"You have got some nerve calling me selfish," Caito snapped.
Conversation around the table died down, everyone suddenly focusing on their corner of the table.
"What's the matter?" Emma asked worriedly.
"What's the matter," said Caito bitterly, "is your brother likes to act all high and mighty when he's actually a jealous hypocrite."
"Shut your mouth, Caito!" Liam hissed in warning.
"It's not my fault you're a coward, William!"
"Enough!" Nora almost shouted. Caito and Liam stared down at her, startled that she had raised her voice at them. "I don't know why you're fighting, but you've got to stop being so cruel to each other. You're friends for heaven's sake! You used to do everything together!"
Neither of them answered.
Nora's blood boiled with rage. She was finally starting to make progress with Caito. They were finally finding some inkling of normalcy between them. Yet now he and Liam couldn't even sit together without lashing at each other's throats. It was beyond frustrating. All she wanted was for things to go back to the way they were. Before she used Caito to make herself feel something. Before she was stupid enough to risk the only safe and constant thing in her life — her friends.
Frustrated, with Caito and Liam but above all with herself, she stormed off, bumping into drunk patrons and laughing students in her haste to get away.
"Nora, wait! Don't leave like that!"
Caito darted after her. They were almost at the door when he caught up.
She rounded on him angrily. "Why shouldn't I leave? You're both acting like children. Do you even remember what it is you're fighting about or is this all for the sake of your egos?"
"I remember perfectly, and so does he." Caito shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat, looking uncomfortable. "Look, you're right — we are being ridiculous. I'm mostly to blame here, but unfortunately Liam holds a grudge and there's nothing I can do about it, not until he's come to terms with what he keeps denying to himself."
"And what is that?" Nora insisted impatiently.
"That's not for me to share."
"Fine!" She tossed her arms up in sheer annoyance. "Whatever. But if this is your fault, then you need to fix it."
"I didn't say it was all my fault," Caito defended quickly.
"Just drop the pride and get it over with. You know Liam's never going to make the first move."
"You always take his side!"
"Don't be absurd," Nora scoffed. She'd lost count of how many times Caito had made that particular accusation in the past.
"You do!" His voiced raised slightly, attracting looks from a group of younger students nearby. Disgruntled, Caito hunched his shoulders with a sigh. "Let's go somewhere, the two of us. Let Liam stew a bit about his attitude. I'll think about talking through things with him some other time."
Nora eyed Caito skeptically, but what else was she going to do? She couldn't force either of them into making amends. No matter how much she wished to.
They walked out of the crowded, stuffy pub. Cold wind smacked her in the face, bringing tears to her eyes. She snuggled further into her blue scarf to keep her nose from freezing. Although it had yet to snow, she had a feeling it wouldn't be long now.
"Where to?"
"Honeydukes, right?" Caito smiled knowingly as he buttoned up his overcoat all the way up to shield himself from the nipping cold. "You always buy candy for Tristan and Harry whenever we come into town."
"I hate that I'm that predictable," she grumbled, voice coming out muffled by her scarf.
"Actually, lately you haven't been predicable at all. I can't remember the last time you lost your temper like you did in there. Oh and this—" He reached for one of her curls. "You never used to wear your hair like this."
Nora blushed furiously. Memories of Professor Lupin tucking her hair behind her ear, or playing with a curl near her face, were vivid in her mind. The only reason, if she was totally honest with herself, for no longer using flattening potions and spells was because she could tell he liked her curly hair. Otherwise she never would have kept wearing it like that, not when it made her resemble her mother so much.
"Something's different about you," said Caito, hazel eyes sweeping over her face.
"Not really," Nora shrugged offhandedly. "I'm still the same."
He smiled sort of ruefully, looking away. "Right..."
Back at the castle, Harry and Tristan were on their way to the common room.
"So, what do you wanna do?" Tristan asked. He noticed Harry's sour grimace, like he'd just sucked a lemon, and rolled his eyes. "Why are you still sulking?"
"I'm not sulking," Harry snarked.
"Sure you're not," Tristan scoffed. "How about a game of wizard's chess? We'll borrow Ron's set, he won't mind."
"Yeah, all right…"
The Fat Lady was dozing off in her portrait and she was a bit moody when they woke her up with the password. Still complaining under her breath, she swung open to let them in.
The common room was full of chattering first and second years, as well as a few older students who obviously no longer found Hogsmead a novelty and would much rather stay behind to catch up on their school work. Sitting at one of the tables in the corner, Colin Creevey glanced their way.
Tristan wasn't quick enough to react. Before he could tug Harry back out through the portrait hole, Colin was already scrambling toward them. "Harry! Tristan! Hi! Hi, there!"
Tristan resisted the urge to smack his forehead. It wasn't that he didn't like Colin. He was a perfectly nice and friendly boy, even if perhaps a little too impressionable. Thing is, he had a fascination with Harry that was very annoying.
"You're not going to Hogsmead?" Colin asked in one fast breath.
"Obviously not, if we're standing right here," said Tristan dryly.
"Why not? Oh, hey—" Eager to spend time with Harry, Colin looked back at his small group of friends. "You can come sit with us if you like!"
"Err… no, thanks, Colin," Harry replied quickly. "Tris and I are actually heading over to the library, we've got a lot of work to get done."
"We do?" Tristan received an inconspicuous elbow-nudge to the side. "Oh right! Yeah, lots of homework to see to. Sorry about that, Colin."
The boy looked considerably crestfallen as Tristan and Harry went back out through the portrait hole again.
"What about our game?" Tristan whispered just in case Colin was still within hearing reach.
"Never mind that," Harry whispered back. "They'll spend the whole time gawking at me. I'm not in the mood."
Halfway down the moving stairs, Tristan fixed Harry with a frown. "We're not seriously spending the day in the library, are we? There's no Hermione to nag us about homework today."
Harry halted abruptly. Standing two steps higher than Tristan, he crossed his arms looking crabby and irritated. "What do you suggest then?"
Tristan thought for a second. "How about we play Quidditch?"
"In this cold? We'll freeze our fingers off. I've got enough of that during practice, thanks very much."
"Yeah, you're right." Tristan frowned as he and Harry continued down the steps and arrived at the first floor. "Blimey, are we really so pathetic we don't know what to do with ourselves without Ron and Hermione?"
Harry laughed a little at that. "I warned you not to stay behind. I'm lousy company."
"Must've slipped my mind." Tristan flashed Harry a cheeky grin. "Why am I mates with you again?"
After a brief run-in with Filch on the way to the library, during which the caretaker bit their heads off for loitering around the corridor and all but barked at them to get back to the common room, Tristan and Harry decided to pay Hedwig a visit in the Owlery.
They were chatting quietly about Wood and his new Quidditch strategy when a voice called out from inside one of the rooms. They turned to find Professor Lupin stepping out of his office. He looked shabby as ever in his faded suit and tattered shoes, but Tristan thought, not for the first time, that his face was less gaunt and with more colour, certainly from several weeks of proper meals and good rest. Even his old clothes hung more nicely on his tall frame.
"I'm surprised to see you, Tristan. Nora said you were visiting Hogsmead this weekend."
"I didn't want to leave Harry."
"Ah." Lupin's green eyes lit up. "Well, I was thinking of going to find Harry myself, so I suppose it's lucky you're both here. Why don't you come in? I've just taken delivery of a grindylow for our next lesson."
Tristan and Harry exchanged interested looks before following him into his office.
It had taken one single class for Lupin to become Tristan's favourite teacher. After they had gone out hunting for Red Caps, that respect and admiration he had only grew more rooted. However, for some reason he always felt a little on edge in his presence. Not in a bad way. He just felt like Lupin could see straight through him, and he had yet to make up his mind whether that was a good thing or not.
Tristan knew Nora liked Lupin too. Not only was it incredibly obvious for anyone who saw them together, but he had also heard Liam complain about it often enough. Personally, he failed to see the problem. Nora had always liked her professors, except perhaps Snape. And he could see why she and Lupin would get along. In fact, all it took was a quick look at the books on his desk once after class to figure out. Muggle books, all of them. Precisely the sort Nora loved to read, sappy and really old-fashioned.
"What's a grindylow?" Harry inquired curiously.
"Water demon," Lupin explained, gesturing toward a large tank in the corner. "We shouldn't have much difficulty with him after the kappas. The trick is to break his grip. Notice the abnormally long fingers? Strong, but very brittle."
While Lupin was talking, Tristan approached the tank of water where a sickly green creature with sharp little horns had its face pressed against the glass. A tiny voice hummed somewhere in a far corner of his mind. He put his palm on the cold glass, above the grindylow's long and spidery hand, and tilted his head, smiling when the little guy mimicked him.
"He likes you," said Lupin, suddenly behind Tristan. "Me — not so much. See?"
The grindylow bared its teeth at Professor Lupin before burying itself in a tangle of weeds in the corner.
"He doesn't like the tank," Tristan explained.
"I would imagine not," Lupin laughed airily.
Tristan didn't think it was funny. He frowned, watching the grindylow curl into a ball-like position behind the weeds. "It's too small for him... he misses the water."
Professor Lupin glanced at the tank and back at Tristan. "Why don't we release him, then? After I finish teaching your class, like we did with the Red Cap. Do you think he'll be happy in the lake?"
"Yeah," Tristan grinned brightly. "I think so."
Lupin returned his smile. "Did he really tell you all that?"
"Err, sort of..." Tristan scratched the back of his neck. "Nora's told you before, right? We've got this thing with magical creatures… I understand them sometimes, if I focus. Can't really explain it."
"A rare and special affinity. Something you inherited from your mother if I recall correctly."
Tristan was stunned. "Nora talked to you about our mum?"
"Only a bit." Lupin walked over to his kettle, tapped it lightly with his wand and a blast of steam fired from the sprout. "Would you boys care for a cup of tea?"
Tristan and Harry moved to grab a seat at his desk. The Defence Against the Dark Arts office was a lot different than it had been last year when it belonged to Lockhart. True to his vain nature, Lockhart had covered the whole room in mirrors and portraits of himself, all of which would smile and blow kisses at him whenever he walked past. Tristan remembered one particular evening when he and Harry had to serve detention with him in his office that was particularly cringeworthy.
While Professor Lupin didn't have any pictures or portraits of himself, he did have a lot of bookshelves crammed full with leather-bound books and several other interesting objects. There was also a small flock of pixies in a cage on top of a tall highboy and a medium-sized terrarium sitting in a dark corner, covered by a thick, black quill. On the windowsill behind Lupin's desk, a familiar white cat was lounging in the sun.
"Lia!" Tristan uttered with surprise. The cat raised her head, blinked her mismatched eyes lazily at him and Harry, went back to ignoring them.
Lupin peered over his shoulder with a smile. "She seems to have made herself quite at home in my office. I've grown accustomed to her visits by now, she likes to keep me company while I work."
"That's really odd," Tristan mused. "Lia doesn't take to strangers..."
Harry eyed Ophelia with a hint of resentment. "She barely even takes to me."
"Consider yourself lucky, Ron's got it much worse than you. She hates him."
"I suspect it might be the treats I give her," Professor Lupin said vaguely while taking the lid off a dusty bin. "I've only got teabags, I'm afraid. But I daresay Harry's had enough of tea leaves?"
Harry shot Tristan a mild glare when he snorted. "How did you know about that?" he asked Lupin.
"Professor McGonagall told me." Lupin passed Tristan a chipped mug, Harry another, before sinking into the chair in front of them. "You're not worried, are you?"
"No," Harry replied quickly.
Tristan scoffed, "Why should he worry? Have you met Professor Trelawney? The woman's half mad. I think it's all the herbs she burns in her class. Anyway, Divination's a hogwash subject, isn't it?"
"I wouldn't know." Lupin tried, and failed miserably, to hide his amusement behind his mug. "I've never taken Divination myself. Between us, though, I wouldn't put much faith in it."
"Told you," Tristan whispered smugly to Harry.
Harry didn't answer. He was staring hard at the fire, seemingly far away in his thoughts.
"Anything on your mind, Harry?"
Harry shook his head, drinking a bit of his tea. Then he thought better of it and put the mug down. "Actually yes. Do you remember the day we fought the boggart?"
"Yes," Lupin said slowly.
"Well... why didn't you let me fight it?"
Tristan was also curious about that. Right after he faced his boggart, which was a huge black snake, Professor Lupin had shut down the whole operation and ended class there. Harry never got his chance.
Lupin raised his eyebrows. "I would've thought that was obvious, Harry. I assumed the boggart would take the form of Lord Voldemort if you did face it."
Tristan flinched at the blunt use of You-Know-Who's name. A familiar chill crept down his spine, like someone had dropped an ice cube down the back of his jumper. Harry and Lupin's conversation faded into the background as his own mind filled with flashes of green light and his sister's terrified screams.
Shaken up, he tightened his grip on the warm mug between his hands. He didn't want to think about that night. He barely remembered anything, and what little he did remember was enough to make him wish he didn't.
A knock on the door suddenly interrupted them.
"Come in," Professor Lupin called. And in came Snape, carrying a smoking goblet. "Ah, Severus. Thank you. Could you leave it there for me?"
Snape stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Harry and Tristan, black eyes narrowing suspiciously at them. A moment later, as per Lupin's request, he approached and set down the smoking goblet on the desk.
"I do wonder, Mr. Cavanaugh," he said with false sweetness, "why you'd be here instead of out there enjoying your first trip to Hogsmead. Planning another heist, are we? I should warn you, I've doubled the security on my supply closet. You and your sister won't be going through them twice."
Tristan opened his mouth to defend himself, but Professor Lupin beat him to it. Good thing too because he would have probably said something rude that would have landed himself in detention.
"The boys were kind to pay me a visit. I was showing them my grindylow," Lupin explained, keeping his tone pleasant while pointing at the tank.
"Fascinating," Snape quipped without bothering to glance at it. "You should drink that directly, Lupin."
"Yes, yes, I will."
"I made an entire cauldronful if you should need more."
"I should probably take some again tomorrow. Thanks, Severus."
"Not at all," Snape drawled silkily, and despite the polite tone there was a dark look in his eye Tristan didn't like.
When the door closed, Professor Lupin offered Tristan an apologetic smile as he reached for the goblet. "I'm sorry he pounced on you like that."
Tristan jerked his shoulders offhandedly. "It's fine. He's never liked me very much. Or Harry."
"Yeah," Harry nodded. "Snape doesn't like anyone, but especially us."
Professor Lupin hummed cryptically, smiling in a way that led Tristan to believe he knew exactly why Snape had it out for them.
He eyed the smoking goblet with interest. "What's that?"
"A potion Professor Snape agreed to concoct for me. I've never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex." Lupin brought the goblet for a sniff, then a sip. He scrunched his face with a shudder. "Pity sugar makes it useless."
"Why—"
"I've been a bit off-colour," Lupin answered Harry's unfinished question. "This potion is the only thing that helps. I'm very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape, there aren't many wizards who are up to making it."
Tristan and Harry looked at each other again, a kind of silent agreement passing between them.
"Sir, I really don't think you should be drinking that," Tristan blurted out.
One of Lupin's eyebrows twitched slightly. "Oh?"
"Professor Snape's very interested in the Dark Arts," Harry added quickly. "Some people reckon…" He hesitated, sneaked another look at Tristan, who encouraged him with a nod. "Some people reckon Snape would do anything to get the Defence Against the Dark Arts job."
Lupin said nothing to address Harry's disguised warning, only continued to drink from the goblet to hide his obvious amusement. He nodded his head toward the mug in Tristan's hand. "You haven't touched your tea yet."
Not keen on offending his favourite teacher, Tristan chugged some of his now cold tea. His eyes widened in wonder when the first hints of mint and ginger touched his tongue.
"I take it you like it," Lupin chuckled. "Do you think Nora will? I might've bought it for the next time she comes over."
"She'll love it." Tristan gulped down a bit more. "Nora loves all kinds of tea, I'm always making fun of her because she's like an old lady."
"Yes, I'm sure you are." Lupin drained the goblet and set it aside. "Well, boys, I better get back to work. We'll see each other at the feast."
Harry put down his empty mug while Tristan finished his in a rush before Lupin walked them both to the door.
Rather than following his friend out, Tristan lingered in the doorway.
"Professor?" he called uncertainly, combing his fingers through his overgrown curls and shifting his weight awkwardly.
"Yes, Tristan?"
He paused and swallowed dryly, struggling to decide whether it was really his place to say anything about his older sister, especially knowing how private Nora was about herself. Meanwhile Professor Lupin waited patiently. Again, Tristan got the eery feeling the man could read exactly what was going on inside his head.
"I know it doesn't look like it, but Nora has a really hard time opening up. If she talked to you about our mum... then she probably told you everything else, right?"
Lupin pursed his lips. There was no pity in his eyes, something Tristan was grateful for. "Yes, Tristan, she did."
"That means she trusts you," Tristan said, hoping Lupin would understand the importance of such a statement. "And Nora doesn't trust people easy, not grownups at least. But she chose to trust you, sir, so—"
"Tristan." Lupin brought a hand to his shoulder and squeezed it firmly. "While there might not be a lot I can do for you and your sister, please know I have no intention of breaking Nora's trust, nor yours. I'm going to tell you the same thing I told her — my door is always open in case you need me. Stop by anytime, even if you're just looking for some company."
Professor Lupin's kindness reached deep inside Tristan's chest, squeezing his affection-starved heart, as it felt almost paternal. He was incredibly touched. To cover up exactly how much, he shrugged cooly and mumbled a quiet, "thanks", making a hasty exit.
Yeah, Tristan thought as he caught up to Harry; he could really see why Nora liked Lupin so much.
I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, especially the scenes with Remus and Tristan. I really want to play with their relationship along the story, as you may imagine Remus is going to have a big impact on Tristan, maybe even as big as he'll have on Nora. I wanted to write Tristan as a really nice boy because he's sort of the product of Nora's love, she took care of him, raised him and protected him, but there's only so much she can do and he's still growing, he has a lot more to learn and he can do with the influence of someone like Remus.
Let me know what you think!