Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban Timeline

"He Holds the Moon"

ooo

"A soulmate is someone who understands you like no other, loves you like no other,

will be there for you forever, no matter what."

- P.S. I Love You, Cecilia Ahern

KELPIES AND BIRTHDAYS

Tuesday morning, as promised, Professor Lupin started teaching the famous Patronus Charm.

The Patronus was a kind of ancient magic that was extraordinarily powerful and perhaps one of the most difficult spells to cast. If successful, it conjured a semi-tangible guardian, a projection of the caster's most positive feelings and memories. This magical guardian took on the form of whichever animal the caster shared the deepest affinity with. It was, in many ways, a reflection of one's soul.

There were two types of Patronus — corporeal and incorporeal. Incorporeal Patronuses were more common as they required less power, but they were also less effective against dementors and other similar threats.

"Now," Lupin said while pacing around the room, "I don't want you to get discouraged if you can't produce a Patronus. We will continue to practice until the end of this term. However, I feel I must warn you that some of you might not be able to conjure a fully corporeal Patronus. It's perfectly normal. The Patronus Charm is extremely advanced magic and as such it demands a lot of effort and energy from the caster."

Standing next to Nora, Emma and Liam were all but vibrating with enthusiasm. They weren't the only ones; everyone seemed to share the sentiment. As for Nora, she was split between excited and nervous. Professor Lupin had said he had great expectations for her — talk about pressure.

"In order to cast a Patronus, the most important thing you must do is focus hard on one single happy memory. But, and this is of extreme relevance, not any happy memory will do. No; it must inspire in you a great and overwhelming sense of joy. Take a few moments now to think of a time when you truly felt happy."

And in here lied the problem for Nora. Because, as much as she loved her friends, and as much as she loved Hogwarts, in the end she couldn't think of a single moment when she had felt complete and utter happiness. There must've been — there had to have been. But childhood memories were a tricky business for her. Everything before the age of five was all wrapped up in fog. She could pick out maybe a handful of memories, some more hazy than others, and of those only a scarce few that were vividly clear. Like the night her mother was killed.

Nora had always had the distinctive feeling that she was missing something intrinsic. Some nights her dreams showed her pieces of a life she didn't remember living and people she had never met, but it was sort of like looking through a dirty glass. Oftentimes horrible nightmares shattered those cloudy images before she had a chance to make sense out of them. Whenever she tried to remember anything afterwards, all she ended up with was a splitting headache.

"Have you got it?" Professor Lupin asked, smiling at the class. They all nodded. "Then hold on to those happy feelings and give it a try. If the memory is strong, you should see some faint light pour from your wands. If not, then it might be best to choose another one. And remember to pronounce the incantation very clearly."

While everyone delved into practice, Nora racked her brain for a memory she might be able to use. The first time she spent Christmas with Liam and Emma at their small cottage was the best she could come up with. She pictured it in her mind — Christmas morning, the four of them sitting on the floor unwrapping presents while Granny Rose prepared breakfast in the kitchen. She focused on the smell of powdered sugar and cinnamon rolls, the sound of young eleven year old Tristan laughing with Emma, the warmth of Liam's arm around her shoulders... the feeling of belonging, of being part of a real family if only for a flashing moment.

"Expecto Patronum," she uttered clearly. Nothing happened. She gave it another go, but again nothing happened. Looking toward Emma and Liam, she saw wisps of shimmering white pour from the tips of their wands.

Nora thought of using the memory of when her Hogwarts letter arrived next, then decided it was probably too tainted by the relief of escaping home and the anguish of leaving her brother behind. When she tried, as a last resort, to remember the day Tristan was born, sharp pain pierced through the back of her skull and made her head pound.

As she rubbed her temples, cursing under her breath, Professor Lupin approached her. "Everything all right?" he asked quietly as not to draw attention from the others.

"I'm fine." But she really wasn't. The throbbing had traveled all the way to the middle of her forehead, making her almost physically ill.

"You're awfully pale, Nora. If you're feeling unwell, I can have Emma walk you to the hospital wing—"

"I said I'm fine," Nora snapped a little too harshly. He raised his eyebrows, and she felt her ears burn. "Sorry, sir. But I'm okay. There's no need to bother Madam Pomfrey."

Lupin hesitated for a long second before finally nodding. "Let me know if you change your mind."

It was perhaps the toughest Defence Against the Dark Arts class Nora'd had in all her seven years as a student. Casting a Patronus was no easy feat. It drained a whole lot of energy from a person. By the time class was over, she was exhausted, crabby, with one of the worst headaches ever, and in the end not a single wisp of light had come out of her wand.

Later, after much insistence from Liam, she paid a visit to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey gave her a tonic, which helped dull the pounding in her head, let her rest for a bit, then sent her off to Potions. Nora would've much preferred to have skipped Potions instead of Herbology. Over the course of detention week, Snape had grown several degrees more unpleasant to her, finding ridiculously insignificant flaws in every single potion she brewed, complaining incessantly about the way she prepared the ingredients, which were either too finely or too roughly chopped, and often making a point of putting her down in front of everyone. Attending class was rapidly becoming a form of psychological torture.

Nora's next day didn't go much better as nearly everyone in Defence Against the Dark Arts but her managed to make at least some progress with the Patronus Charm. In fact, Liam came close to actually doing it, producing a large silvery cloud that glowed for a few seconds before dissipating. Professor Lupin couldn't have been more ecstatic, he'd smiled so brightly, not even Liam could resist smiling back.

"I think there might be something wrong with me," Nora lamented to Lupin later that evening when she went over to help him with his workload again.

Startled, he looked up from his pile of parchments toward where she was standing, by one of the two large bookstands in his private quarters. "Of course there's nothing wrong with you. Why would you say that?"

"It's just…" Nora trailed off, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she plucked a leather-bound compilation of the best works of John Keats from the shelf and flipped through it without really paying attention. "Well, I've never thought of myself as a bad witch—"

"You're a stupendous witch," he corrected at once, making her smile a little.

"Then why's it so hard for me to cast this spell? Everyone's made some progress, I'm the only one who hasn't. There must be a reason, right?"

"Like I said before, some of the greatest wizards and witches are never able to cast a Patronus."

Sad and shame-faced, she hugged the leather-bound book to her chest. "But you had great expectations for me, didn't you? You said so yourself, that you were confident I would do well."

"Nora, I didn't mean…" Lupin's gaze softened with warmth. He transferred his quill, the ink bottle and the pile of parchments onto the coffee table and sat back, stretching his arm to her. "C'mere, darling…"

Blushing furiously, heart kicking hard against her ribcage, she took his hand and let him pull her onto the couch next to him. His hand swallowed hers so big it was, the skin rough and calloused, but she knew his were hands that could never hurt. There was always a kind of sweet reverence in the way he touched her, as though she were precious to him.

"I feel like something's been stolen from me," Nora confessed quietly without looking at him. "I don't know how else to explain this... It's like some of my memories are just gone. I keep trying to reach for them in my sleep, but they slip further and further away..." There was a long pause. When she dared lift her head, Lupin was watching her intently, a deep frown bringing lines to his mouth. "You must think I'm crazy…"

His hand on hers squeezed lightly. "No, Nora, I don't. I'm no expert in Legilimency, it's not my area of expertise and I've never had the talent nor the taste for it. However, if someone has tampered with your memories, I can ask Professor Snape to help you."

The thought of having a cruel man like Snape snoop through her darkest, most shameful memories froze her from inside. "Please, don't do that! I don't need anyone else knowing about this, definitely not him!"

"I won't," Lupin reassured gently. "It was merely a suggestion. I would never make you do something you aren't comfortable with. Has he been unkind to you?"

"Professor Snape's unkind to everyone," Nora said, lowering her gaze to her lap and trying to sound indifferent, yet unable to. Lupin put a finger under her chin to tilt her face back up toward his. So handsome, she thought in a daze; he was so handsome with the flames reflected in his gaze.

"I heard about what happened the day he gave you detention." Lupin swept her hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, profound eyes flittering over her face. "I wish you hadn't spoken in my defence. It pains me that you're having a hard time because of me."

"It isn't because of you," she protested, stumbling slightly over her words because her breath was all but caught in her chest. "He shouldn't've been badmouthing a colleague in front of his students in the first place. I don't get it, Snape doesn't like anyone who takes the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts, but he's never been so blatant and unprofessional about it before. It's almost like he hates you personally."

Lupin drew away, sitting back and raking his fingers through his hair. "You're not wrong. In his defence, I probably deserve it."

"How so?" asked Nora, genuinely curious.

"We were students together, Severus and I. Same year. As you know, I was a Gryffindor and so were most of my friends. Severus of course was a Slytherin. Naturally that made us rivals, and to us that meant a certain amount of competitiveness was expected. My friends were…" Lupin trailed off, cheeks growing increasingly red. He eyed Nora sidelong, then away, to the side, and messed with his hair again, clearing his throat. "Well, they were like most teenage boys at that age, I suppose… They never meant any harm by it, but sometimes they got carried away and some of the things they did were a bit cruel. Sadly, Severus was one of their favourite targets. I'm ashamed to admit that, while I never personally antagonised him like my friends, I never did anything to stop them either."

"So that's why he doesn't like you," Nora mused out loud. Lupin made a contemplative noise, seemingly too embarrassed to face her properly. She smiled, amused. "Hagrid's told me a few things about your days as a student. Sounds like he wasn't lying — you and your friends really were a mischievous lot. Not quite so exemplary either, were you, professor?"

He shook his head with a laugh. "That cheeky streak suits you, darling, you should show it more often." His eyes drifted guiltily toward the mess of papers on the coffee table. "Would you be willing to skip the feast tonight? I don't think I'll be able to finish all these on my own."

"Is that your way of asking me to have dinner with you?"

A little sly smile touched his lips. "Oh? Was it so obvious?"

Nora felt like her whole face would combust, and her belly was doing all sorts of funny things. Despite having had lunch and tea together both in his office and in his quarters several times now, there was something far more racy about dinner. Particularly when he looked so roguish, long legs lazily stretched out in front of him, tie loosened and askew on his neck, hair tousled from his fingers. Simply looking at him left her short of breath and weak in the knees.

It wasn't as though she wasn't used to handsome men — Liam and Caito were perfectly good-looking. Lupin just had a sort of charisma that boys her age simply didn't possess, an air of cool confidence in how he spoke and how he moved, how he smiled deliberately slowly, which she could only imagine came with being older, more experienced in life.

Realising she had been staring for quite sometime, she awkwardly accepted his invitation. Lupin's little crooked smirk was still plastered on his face when the food arrived from the kitchens.

While they ate, he rewarded her with stories of his student days, painting a picture so vivid of each adventure and his friends that she felt like she had been right there along with them. Some stories turned his cheeks pink, others brought nostalgia to his eyes. And others… well, others plainly had him looking quite pleased with himself. Nora loved those the best.

He hadn't offered her wine again since that first time, but she thought perhaps that was a good thing because she was finding it increasingly difficult to keep her hands off him. She dreamed of leaning in to pepper his face with affection, to trace his scars with her lips, have him smile against her mouth while they kissed over and over again, until neither of them could breathe anymore, until they so were completely lost in each other the whole world ceased to exist.

They worked in comfortable silence after dinner. Nora, more at home in Lupin's cozy quarters than in her own common room, sat on the opposite end of the couch, her legs bent and her feet pressed lightly against the outside of his thigh as she read through fourth year reports on dugbogs and revised them over her knees. Every so often Lupin would look over, smile softly, and give her feet a squeeze. It was a kind of intimacy she hadn't known she craved for, but now cherished deeply.

Tristan sat in Transfiguration staring at his tortoise while the rest of his classmates worked on trying to transfigure their own animals into teapots. Professor McGonagall stood at his desk watching him behind round spectacles, arms crossed over her chest, scowl on her face.

"Must we do this every class, Mr. Cavanaugh?"

"She's just so adorable," Tristan pouted, petting his tortoise's tiny head. In the seat next to him, Hermione made a nearly silent, yet still audible, scoffing noise.

McGonagall wasn't so amused. "For the last time, Mr. Cavanaugh, none of these spells cause damage. All creatures are perfectly safe."

"With all due respect, professor, have you ever been repeatedly transfigured into an inanimate object?"

"First your sister, now you..." Exasperated, McGonagall brought a hand to the bridge of her nose. "I would suggest getting on with it, Mr. Cavanaugh. Fail to learn this spell and I'm afraid you will not be passing your final exam this year."

Pulling a face and grumbling apologies to the poor tortoise under his breath, Tristan, albeit reluctantly, picked up his wand to get some work done. He could tell Harry and Ron, who sat behind him, were laughing. Even Hermione thought it was funny. Tristan and McGonagall's battle against transfiguring animals in class was always a source of entertainment for his friends. He didn't let it bother him. If they had the ability to communicate with creatures like he did, they probably wouldn't find it so funny anymore.

In the end, he only managed to get a partially transfigured teapot with four paws and a small tail. Still, Tristan thought as he packed away his belongings, he'd done better than Ron; his tortoise had ended up blowing steam from its mouth long after back to normal.

Tristan checked the clock on the wall behind McGonagall's desk before trailing after his friends. Classes were done for the day and he was due to meet Luna at the boathouse in a few minutes. They had been checking in on the kelpie egg almost every day. It was close to hatching, he could feel it.

"You're taking off again?" Harry asked when he saw Tristan switch directions and head down the stairs. Ron and Hermione were also eyeing Tristan suspiciously. "Where do you keep disappearing to?"

Tristan shrugged vaguely. Before they could try and pry anything from him, he started skipping down two steps at a time.

Luna was already at the boathouse when he got there. Soon as she saw him at the top of the path she started hopping up and down waving her arms with frantic enthusiasm. He took off in a sprint — that could only mean one thing.

"Is it time?" Tristan asked between gasping for air, to which she nodded vigorously.

They gathered near the patch of land where the egg was buried, barely able to contain themselves in anticipation. The earth was moving, crumbling as the baby kelpie slowly clawed its way out from underneath.

"Come on, little guy, you can do it," Luna encouraged, leaning forward with her hands on her knees.

A paw broke through first, very tiny and dark green, four webbed fingers. The most adorable head followed. Beady, black eyes blinked to adjust to the exterior light as the kelpie struggled to dug the rest of its body out. It looked somewhat like a newborn foal, except instead of a fur coat it was covered by a slick membrane, had algae for hair and was much smaller in size.

Tristan watched in sheer awe. There used to be a kelpie in the lake near Cavanaugh Manor and he had caught a glimpse of it once when he was younger. But the moment was very brief, it could never compare to witnessing the birth of what he personally considered one of the most beautiful creatures in the wizarding world.

"Wow," he breathed, slack-jawed, as the baby kelpie fully emerged from the ground.

Despite having two front legs, from the waist down it had a sort of tail made of the same type of algae as its mane. Tristan extended a hand to the kelpie, letting it have a good sniff before petting its head. Luna's silvery eyes were wide as saucers. Smiling, he grabbed her hand so she could do the same.

"He's wonderful!" Luna gushed, giggling when the kelpie let out a chirruping noise.

"He likes you," Tristan said with a smile. "We should let him get to the lake, though. He needs water."

They stood and stepped aside. The baby kelpie crawled unsteadily toward the shore, gave a quick startle when the water grazed his minuscule paws, stumbling a little. Then, he dived right in, disappearing with a swish of his algae tail.

For a moment, all Tristan and Luna did was gaze upon still waters. How odd, he felt unexpectedly sad.

"Do you think we'll see him again?" Luna asked. He could tell from her voice that she was experiencing the same thing. "We didn't even get to name him. I wrote down a list and everything…"

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh now I have to hear this. What names did you come up with?"

"There were quite a few I liked. I decided on Marin for a girl and Irving for a boy. Marin because it means 'of the sea' in Latin. Irving because the name comes from a Scottish river that means 'green water'."

"Both great choices," Tristan grinned broadly. "It was a boy so I suppose Irving it is. We should keep meeting here, don't you think? Maybe Irving might swim by for a visit one of these days."

Luna's owlish eyes sparkled with hope as she turned to him. "You really think so?"

"Sure. Oh! I read your magazine by the way. It's neat. I liked that part about…"

They grabbed a seat at the large dead log overlooking the lake while Tristan went on about his favourite articles in The Quibbler. Luna was more of a listener than a talker, which worked well in his favour because he talked enough for the both of them. Whenever she did open her mouth, however, it was to add something witty and interesting, and he had learned a great deal of many quirky things with her already.

Like a whisper in the crisp autumn air, it began to drizzle, daylight fading behind thick, dark grey clouds as the weather chilled with bitter wind and the threat of thunder. Tristan and Luna, fearing it would soon turn into a downpour, ran back to the castle and made it just in time.

They stood under the archway to the entrance courtyard watching several students, who had been sitting around the fountain, now fleeing inside. Luna shivered under her cloak, pale hair dewy with droplets that shimmered like pearls. He held his hands out for her and she laid hers over them without a word, smiling softly when he brought them to his mouth to blow his warm breath over her cold fingers.

"It's almost time for the feast," he said conversationally.

"Yes," was her vague reply, long eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. "I hope there's pudding..."

Tristan couldn't decide whether he was more amused or endeared by the sheer quirkiness of her. "Want me to sit with you tonight?"

"Why?"

He looked at her oddly. "What do you mean why? To keep you company obviously. Isn't that why people sit together?"

"No." She shook her head, brows knitting at the centre of her forehead. "I meant why would you want to sit with me?"

"Err… do you — do you not want me to…?" Tristan blurted out a short, awkward laugh.

Luna hesitated, gaze darting to the side. He frowned as she pulled her small hands from his and shoved them into her pockets. Distance spanned between them, visible, palpable, even though she hadn't moved a single inch.

"There's no need for you to force yourself into spending time with me."

"I'm not," he argued, now more confused than ever. "I happen to like spending time with you."

"When no one's watching."

He took a little offence in the accusation. "What, you think I'm embarrassed to be seen with you in front of the whole school, is that it? You're the one turning me down after I just offered to sit with you!"

"You always sit with your friends," she pointed out in a flat voice. "Why would you be offering to sit with me unless it was out of pity?"

Tristan narrowed his eyes. "Is that the kind of person you think I am?"

"I don't really know you yet, do I? You haven't told me anything about yourself. You don't talk to me in the hallways or if there's anyone around. And that's fine with me, but don't suddenly act like we're friends because we're not. Not really."

Although there was no malice, or barely any kind of emotion even, in the way she spoke, it hit him right where it hurt. Her voice echoed in his head like a loop — Not friends. Not really.

"Whatever," Tristan spat through his gritted teeth, brushing past her and out into the courtyard, not caring in the least about the icy rain. "Keep sitting by yourself, see if I care."

He seethed all the way to the Great Hall. He was completely drenched by the time he sat next to Harry at their table, curls sticking to his churlish face, water dripping down everywhere. His friends eyed him oddly. By now they knew better than to poke him when he was having one of his moods.

It was so stupid. He wasn't even sure why he was mad, or even whether he had any right to be mad. She had a point, didn't she? Away from the boathouse, which had indeed become their secret meeting place, he mostly pretended Luna didn't exist. But it wasn't out of embarrassment. There were several reasons, none of which he was particularly proud of nor did he want her to know about, but being embarrassed was definitely not on the list. In fact, Tristan thought Luna was quite possibly the coolest, most fascinating person he had ever met, and if he hadn't mentioned anything to his friends about her it was because there was a small part of him that wanted to keep her all to himself, at least for a little longer.

He took some sick, selfish satisfaction that no one but him got to see Luna's awfully pretty smile or hear the way her carefree laugh bounced from her lips whenever he did something she thought was funny. Not that he would ever tell her that.

Tristan pushed his food around on his plate with an angry pout. He stole a glance at the Ravenclaw table and immediately spotted Luna, who was sitting, as usual, all by herself in the furthest corner. Almost as though she could sense his stare, she glanced his way too. Their eyes met for one quick second before they both looked away at the same time.

Emma and Liam's birthday was on November 22nd. Fell on a Monday this year, which sort of put a damper on the festivities since the twins had been born at two in the morning and they generally stayed up the whole night to celebrate until the exact time of the event.

"We can still do it," Julia declared determinedly during Charms while they were practicing the Eradication Spell in small groups.

"Sure, if you don't mind walking around like a zombie the next day," Liam quipped in between disintegrating a glass vase and piecing it back together with a quick Mending Charm.

"We can't break tradition now." Nora gave Liam a lighthearted shove, catching him off-guard and nearly sending him off his stool. "It's your last birthday at Hogwarts!"

"Agreed," said Emma, who loved any and every chance to celebrate her own achievements, even if it was being born. "Besides, we're finalists. I reckon teachers won't mind if we're a bit scattered in the morning."

Three pairs of excited eyes zoomed in on Liam without mercy. "Oh fine," he sighed with a smile. "What time are we sneaking out, then?"

There was an hour left to midnight when they were able to escape the empty common room. Down in the kitchens, the house-elves were already expecting them. This wasn't their first rodeo. The first time Nora and her friends had decided to sneak into the kitchens was to request a birthday cake for Liam and Emma six years ago, and since then it had become custom for the elves, bless their tiny sweet hearts, to prepare one in advance, candles and everything, and to let them use the room for the night.

Instead of using one of the four long tables, they set up camp in front of the cozy fire burning in the hearth of a large fireplace. There the plush carpet was soft and fluffy, and Nora and Liam conjured several pillows and blankets to add even more comfort to their little nook. Julia had brought her new wireless radio, which was enchanted to pick up muggle stations, so she fumbled around with it until she found one that suited her and set it to play in the background. Meanwhile Emma rounded up enough sweets and deserts for a battalion with the help of the elves before they bid goodnight and left them to their intimate celebration.

Everything was perfect, Nora decided with a smile as she made herself comfortable against the pillows. The only thing missing was Caito. The same thought must have gone through Emma's head because she suddenly confessed to have invited him earlier that day.

Her brother dropped his jaw. "Emma, you didn't!"

"Why wouldn't I?" Emma replied without batting an eyelash. "Obviously I knew he wouldn't show up, but at least I tried. He's still our friend."

Liam opened his mouth, closed it without a sound. He grabbed a bowl of crumpets and started getting them ready to be roasted in the fire, grumbling indignantly under his breath.

Rolling her eyes, Emma turned to Nora, "Are you absolutely sure you don't fancy him? Not even a little bit?"

The question came out of left field and Nora was completely thrown by it. So was Julia, who'd been in the process of taking a sip from her goblet and nearly choked. She coughed and sputtered loudly and with great apparatus, trying to catch her breath.

"No, Emma," Nora answered, facepalming on the inside as she patted Julia on the back.

"But what's not to fancy? He's clever, funny, sweet, not to mention gorgeous." Emma released a wistful sigh, staring off into the distance. "I mean, those cheekbones of his are just to die for..."

Liam eyed his sister with mounting disgust while Nora and Julia exchanged amused looks. Then, seeming to snap out of her fantasy world, Emma shook her head and cleared her throat, visibly embarrassed.

"Maybe you should date him," Julia suggested.

Emma blushed furiously. "Shut up! I'm just saying he's a great catch, that's all."

"He is a great catch," Nora agreed, drawing her legs to her chest, circling them with her arms and resting her chin on her knees. "I never said he was anything but wonderful. I've known Caito for a long time, we've been through a lot together. It's just hard for me to see him as more than my precious friend."

"I don't believe that. You wouldn't've snogged him if there wasn't at least some attraction on your part—"

Liam interjected immediately, brandishing the poker with which he was roasting crumpets like a weapon. "Can we please not talk about Caito and Nora's romantic trysts on my bloody birthday?"

"It's my birthday too," retaliated Emma with the usual snark.

"I'm older, I get priority."

"Eight minutes! It's eight bloody minutes!"

Nora and Julia looked at each other laughing. It was also tradition for Liam to brag about being the older brother and for Emma to get irritated over it.

Relieved that the conversation had steered away from her romantic trysts, as Liam had so eloquently put it, Nora checked her watch. Right on time too — it was almost two o'clock. She levitated the chocolate cake that was sitting on the counter, set it in the middle of their small circle. When there were only a few seconds left, she lit the first set of candles. They sung Liam happy birthday and eight minutes later did the same for Emma, who always insisted they shared enough things in life as it was and they should at least blow out their candles separately.

They did presents next.

"You got me those strappy sandals we saw in London!" Emma gushed loudly, fawning over a pair of bright fuchsia sandals. "Thanks, Jules! I can't wait to wear them this summer!"

Beside her, Liam was holding up a royal-blue jumper with a rather unflattering portrait of himself stitched to the front.

Nora brought a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. "Oh my god, it's you!"

The portrait in the sweater was enchanted to mimic his current facial expressions so at the moment both versions were looking highly unamused, mouth turned upside down, one eyebrow arching upwards.

Julia grinned proudly when Emma burst with loud guffaws, clutching at her stomach and toppling to the side from the sheer force of it.

Liam's scowl deepened. "In what world is this me?"

"Hey, I did that all by myself," said Julia in between bites of chocolate cake. "Took me two whole months to get it right. Dad gave me a hand with the Mirror Charm, though."

Emma continued to howl with laughter.

"Can't believe your dad went along with this." He looked monstrously disgruntled, but was already putting on the jumper over his pyjama shirt anyway. When his stitched lookalike copied his exact same expression, Nora snorted. Liam narrowed his eyes in warning, "Not even a word, Cavanaugh."

She raised her hands, chuckling.

Seeing as Julia's gifts were done, Nora grabbed her two bags next. She gave Emma hers first; a bracelet that shifted colours according the weather so she would always know what sort of clothes to wear in the morning or whether to be on the lookout for rain. It was a bit of an inside joke between them as Emma changed outfits at least three times before going anywhere.

She was always the easiest to buy gifts for. Anything glittery, pretty or stylish made her happy. The real challenge was Liam, but this time Nora had a good feeling about her pick.

Holding her breath, she watched him pull out the small package from inside the bag and tear at the blue wrapping paper.

"No way!" His eyes grew twice their size as he brushed his fingers over the cover of Gulpalott's brand new autobiography, published last August. "I thought these were all sold out! How'd you find it?"

"I've got my ways. And look—" Nora reached out to open the book on the first page, where there was a name signed in shaky cursive above the title.

Liam inhaled sharply. "Is that…"

"Gulpalott signed it himself!" Even she was excited about it and she wasn't interested in Alchemy. "I knew he was still working at the Egyptian Center of Alchemical Studies so when I heard the Weasleys were going to Egypt I asked Tristan to ask Ron to go there and get Gulpalott to sign it. According to Ron, he's a bit of an eccentric fellow. I suppose that's to be expected of one of the world's top Alchemists— Oof!"

Liam had swept Nora in a bone-crushing hug before she could even finish speaking. She had to wriggle her arms from his tight grip in order to hug him back.

"I guess you like it."

"I love it," he mumbled against her shoulder. "Thank you, it's perfect."

Touched by the tender moment, Julia squealed in a very un-Julia-like manner and threw herself at them, making them all topple backwards into the pillows while Liam complained loudly and tried to shove her off. It didn't take long for Emma to join in.

"Ugh! Get off, you two!"

"Can't handle all this cuteness! I don't even care your gift's better than mine!"

"What?! I spent a small fortune on your bracelet!"

Much later, after they had finished the entire cake and cleared away all the plates, they killed all the lights except the fire and laid down side by side, staring at the tall ceiling where Nora then conjured a night sky and a star shower, thanks to a neat spell she'd learned from Badeea Ali, an older Ravenclaw who graduated three years ago.

"Do you think we'll still be doing this five years from now?" Emma asked, arms crossed behind her head.

"Don't see why not." Julia covered her mouth for a yawn. "Bet I can squeeze in some time for my best friends between games. And if not, I can always get you tickets and fly you in to watch me play. We can make it a new tradition."

"Best be seats in the VIP booth, I'm not watching the mighty Holyhead Harpies from among the raffle," Emma replied pompously.

The raffle? Nora mouthed to Liam, who shook his head, exasperated.

"If I make the team," Julia added.

"Don't be silly, of course you'll make the team," Nora declared with absolute certainty. "They would be fools to turn down a Chaser of your caliber."

"And when I become a journalist, I'll be the first to write all about Hurricane Yamada, the new Quidditch sensation to swoop over the wizarding world!"

Liam chuckled, "Bit long for a headline, Em."

"Well, it's a work in progress…"

"Hurricane Yamada," Julia repeated with a dreamy, faraway look on her face. "Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

They continued to picture their lives as adults, sharing their most intimate hopes and dreams. Nora mostly listened with a smile. She didn't have a clear image of her future like they did, no real, definite dream. However, it always brought a warm feeling to her chest to imagine her friends fulfilling their goals. She hoped to one day see Julia fly with her team in a big stadium, or to open the newspaper and find Emma's name written under her articles.

The fire had dimmed to only a few burning embers by the time Julia and Emma succumbed to sleep, their soft, steady breathing barely a whisper above the music still playing quietly from the wireless. Unable to do the same, Nora stared up at the ceiling and watched tiny trails of light shoot across the midnight sky like silver arrows. As she did, a strange sense of deja vu struck her out of the blue. Had she had once watched a star shower with someone? Could it have been her mum?

Saddened, she reached for her mother's locket and wrapped her fingers tightly around it. So many questions unanswered. Why couldn't she remember anything clearly?

"Nora," she heard Liam call in a whisper. "Are you still awake?"

"Yeah, I'm awake."

Nora shifted to her side so they were facing each other. It was dark, but she could make out most of him. His usually tidy hair was bedraggled, sticking into every direction, his eyes heavy with sleep.

He inched closer to her. "Have you decided what you're going to do after school?"

"Not yet," she admitted sheepishly, tugging the blanket all the way to her chin. "I have some money saved, but I think I'll wait until after the exams to start looking at houses."

"Are you scared, though? Of leaving?"

Terrified, Nora thought. "More like worried," she chose to say instead, taking care in avoiding his stare, which was as sharp in the dark as it was in broad daylight. "What if I can't do it? What if I can't provide for Tristan or keep him safe? I don't want to ruin his life…"

"That's absurd!" Liam rebutted passionately. "You have been raising Tristan on your own basically since he was born. He's a great kid because of you, and only you."

"I do my best, but sometimes it takes more than that..."

Liam stayed silent and for a minute his face worked oddly, expression contrite and hesitant, before finally growing determined. "Nora look, I know you want to do things by yourself, and I respect that — I do. But we're here for you, always, no questions asked. So please don't be ashamed to ask us for help if you need to, all right? At any moment."

Profoundly affected, Nora reached for his hand under the blankets and looped their fingers. "There it is — that heart of gold you try so hard to hide from the world. You really ought to show it more often, you know? That's what's going to make you the most wonderful Healer."

Liam shifted uncomfortably. Even in the dark, she could see the dust of pink spreading rapidly over his cheeks, all the way to his ears. She was always of the opinion that he acted distant and defensive because deep down he was actually scared to be vulnerable. The last time he had felt completely open and trustful was before his parents died. In his mind, by not letting anyone, not even his closest friends, past a certain point, then he wouldn't get hurt again when eventually they left him too.

"Thanks," he uttered quietly, squeezing her hand.

Nora tilted her head. "For what?"

"Just... being you."