Chapter 9 - First Lesson

The corridors of Hogwarts were quiet as Ava climbed the winding staircase to Professor Lupin's office. Her footsteps echoed against the stone walls, her scarf tucked tightly around her neck to guard against the evening chill. She paused at the door, her heart beating a little too fast, her thoughts cluttered from the whirlwind of the past few days.

She hadn't spoken to Fred or Oliver since yesterday. Not properly. She'd gone to classes, kept her head down, and skipped meals when she could. She just needed time to think, to breathe, to figure out what the hell she was feeling.

Oliver was the boy she'd crushed on for years. He all confidence and charm. The Quidditch captain with the lopsided smile and laser focus. He made her stomach flutter, and made her feel wanted.

But Fred… Fred was different. Warm, funny, surprising. Like a spark she hadn't known was there until it ignited.

She didn't want to choose. Not yet. Not when her head was still spinning.

For now, there was this.

She knocked softly and pushed open the door to Lupin's office.

The room was dimly lit, parchment scattered across his desk, books piled high along the walls in organized chaos. Lupin sat in the corner, quietly folding a letter. When he saw her enter, he tucked it into his pocket and stood.

"Good evening, Ava," he said with a faint smile. "How are you tonight?"

She shrugged as she unwound her scarf and draped it over the nearest chair. "I'm fine. Just… tired. I've got a pile of research to do for History of Magic."

"Ah," he said, nodding. "Well, we'll try not to keep you too long, then."

He stepped toward her and sat on a worn old trunk, folding his hands together. "Have you ever heard of the Patronus Charm?"

Ava perked up slightly. "Yeah. It drives away Dementors, right?"

"Correct." He tilted his head. "Ever attempted one?"

She shook her head, already reaching for her wand. "Not yet. But I suppose that's why I'm here." She gave a small smirk. "My father tends to be overly cautious."

Lupin studied her a moment. "You speak frankly," he said.

Ava froze for a moment, worried she'd overstepped. "Sorry, I didn't mean–"

But Lupin just smiled faintly. "You remind me of your mother."

Something tightened in her chest, but she nodded, biting back whatever words wanted to follow. He gestured toward the center of the room.

"The Patronus is difficult magic. It's advanced and deeply personal. It requires focus… and a very strong memory. Something joyful. Let's begin. Say the words with intent: Expecto Patronum."

Ava took her place in the center of the room, squared her stance, and raised her wand. "Expecto Patronum!"

Nothing.

Again, louder this time. "Expecto Patronum!"

Still nothing.

For the next ten minutes, she tried. Again and again. Her voice got more frustrated, her arm more tired, until finally Lupin raised a hand to stop her.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked gently.

"About how this isn't working," she muttered, crossing her arms.

He smiled, but there was something sad behind his eyes. "That's the problem. You're thinking about the magic. Not the memory. Close your eyes. Think about your happiest moment. One where you felt completely safe. Loved. The kind of memory you'd cling to in the dark."

She hesitated, then obeyed, letting her lashes flutter shut.

And then… she remembered.


"Mommy! Mommy! Look at me!"

A small voice echoed through the park as Ava, no older than five, launched herself down the sun-warmed metal slide. Her tiny arms flailed slightly as she reached the bottom, tumbling into the grass with a delighted squeal. Her laughter carried on the breeze, light and infectious.

Vanessa sat nearby on a patchwork blanket spread across the soft lawn, a worn paperback resting in her lap. She wore a yellow sundress printed with pale green flowers, the hem fluttering gently in the afternoon breeze. Sunlight caught in her light brown curls, giving her a kind of glow, golden and soft, like something out of a dream. She looked up at her daughter with a smile that reached all the way to her eyes.

Setting her book aside, Vanessa stood and walked over, scooping Ava up into her arms with practiced ease. The child shrieked with laughter as her mother spun her in a circle before tossing her gently into the air. For a moment, Ava felt like she was flying, her feet lifted off the world. Then she landed safely against her mother's chest, giggling uncontrollably.

Vanessa knelt to set her back down, brushing a smudge of dirt from her daughter's cheek as she did.

That's when Ava saw it.

A few feet away, shimmering in the sunlight, stood a silvery wolf, not solid, not quite real, but unmistakably there. Its translucent form gleamed with soft light, like moonlight trapped in smoke. The creature stood poised on the edge of their blanket, tail swishing gently, intelligent eyes watching.

"Mommy! Look!" Ava pointed, eyes wide.

Vanessa turned, and for a moment, her smile faltered. Her gaze scanned the playground, searching for something, or someone, but the other parents and children remained blissfully unaware. Only Ava saw the wolf.

Vanessa exhaled slowly. Then, as if on cue, the sky above them burst into color.

Fireworks, not the kind Muggles used, but magical ones, elegant and soundless unfurled like blooming flowers high above the park. Deep violet stars, spinning gold spirals, bursts of teal and silver lit up the sky. Ava gasped in awe, eyes fixed upward as she clapped her hands and spun in the grass.

Vanessa sat back down on the blanket, her eyes never leaving the sky. Her smile was small now, not the bright, easy grin she wore for her daughter, but something quieter. Softer. Sadder.


"Expecto Patronum!"

The words burst from her, and this time… came light. A shimmering silver burst from her wand and soared across the room. A lemur, its long tail curling through the air like a ribbon, danced gracefully before fading into mist.

Ava stared, wide-eyed, her heart pounding. "I did it…"

Lupin stood, watching the space where the lemur had been. His smile was soft, but his eyes glistened. "You did."

He cleared his throat and gestured toward the door. "That will do for today. You'll continue to grow stronger with it. I have no doubt. Same time next week?"

Ava nodded, still slightly dazed. "Thank you, Professor."

As Ava stepped out of Lupin's office, a small, satisfied smile still lingered on her lips. The air in the corridor was crisp, echoing faintly with the soft creak of old stone and the distant whisper of moving staircases. She turned the corner and ran straight into someone solid.

She let out a soft gasp as arms caught her by the waist.

"Steady there," a familiar voice said, amused. "Didn't mean to knock the wind outta ye."

Ava looked up, heart skipping at the sight of Oliver Wood. His warm brown eyes crinkled as he smiled down at her, his hand still resting lightly at her waist. Her pulse ticked faster.

"Oliver," she breathed. "Hi."

"Hi yerself," he said, brushing a windblown strand of hair from her cheek. "What are the odds we'd run into each other in a dark corridor, hmm? I'm startin' to think fate's playin' favourites."

She laughed, unable to help the way her face warmed. "I just finished my lesson with Professor Lupin."

"That right?" His gaze swept over her, softening. "You look... pleased with yerself."

"I cast a Patronus," she said, still beaming. "A proper one. First try."

"No kiddin'?" His eyebrows rose, clearly impressed. "Blimey, that's brilliant. What was it?"

"A lemur."

"A lemur," he echoed with a grin. "Now that's adorable."

Ava rolled her eyes but smiled, glancing down at her shoes. "Anyway… what are you doing wandering around at this hour?"

"Looking for you, actually." He stepped a little closer. "Figured I might catch you after your lesson."

She looked up again, surprised. and more than a little pleased. "You were waiting for me?"

He gave a half-shrug. "Couldn't help m'self." There was a pause. a soft one. The kind that hummed with potential. "You're lookin' forward to Sunday?" he asked, his voice quieter now, more earnest.

Ava nodded slowly, eyes bright. "Yeah. I am."

His smile deepened, and there was a spark of something mischievous in his eyes. "You're cute when you're excited, y'know that?"

She huffed a laugh, self-conscious now. "Don't tease."

"Not teasin'," he said, voice low. "Just observin'."

Before she could respond, he leaned in, slowly, not rushing, eyes flicking to hers for permission.

Ava didn't pull back.

His lips brushed her cheek first, gentle, testing, and then he turned his head just slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth.

Her breath caught, lips parting ever so slightly in surprise.

Oliver pulled back only a fraction, still close enough for her to feel the heat of him. "You're really somethin', Ava Johnson."

She didn't know what to say only that her heart was thudding, her thoughts scattered in a hundred directions. But the smile that pulled at her lips was unmistakable.

So when a voice called down the hall– "Ava! Professor Dumbledore wants to see you!" –it felt like surfacing too quickly from warm water.

A first-year stood a few feet away, clearly relaying a message. Ava blinked and stepped back slightly. "I should go."

Oliver sighed but nodded, brushing his thumb once over her knuckles. "I'll see you Sunday."

As Ava turned to leave, Oliver caught her wrist again, tugging her gently back toward him with that same easy confidence.

"C'mon," he murmured, brushing a kiss against the side of her head. "Yer blushing like mad. It's adorable."

She giggled, her heart fluttering wildly. "Stop."

"I will," he whispered, "eventually."

But before she could respond, heavy footsteps echoed behind her.

"Oi, she said Stop!"

Fred's voice cracked through the corridor like a whip.

She turned just in time to see Fred charging toward them, fire in his eyes. George followed a few steps behind with Lee Jordan, munching on what looked like a Chocolate Frog.

"Ah, bollocks," George muttered around a mouthful of chocolate. "He's got that 'I'm gonna punch a bloke' walk."

Lee chuckled. "Five sickles says he actually swings."

"Oi!" George called. "Fred–"

But it was too late.

Fred grabbed Oliver by the front of his jumper and slammed him against the corridor wall. The sound echoed through the hall, jarring and immediate.

Ava jumped, stumbling back. "Fred!"

George's chocolate frog went flying as he groaned. "Aaaaaand there it is."

Oliver grunted, his hands going up defensively. "What the hell–"

Fred didn't slow down. "What the hell is this?" he barked, glaring between Oliver and Ava. "You think this is alright? Pressing her against the wall like that?"

Ava opened her mouth, startled. "Fred–"

Oliver stepped forward, arms folding as he stood tall. "We were talkin'. You got a problem?"

"You don't get to treat her like that!" Fred shouted, his voice low but sharp. "You think you can just corner her and take whatever you want?"

"I didn't take anything she didn't want to give," Oliver growled back, teeth clenched.

Fred shoved him harder, his face inches from Oliver's.

"Fred, stop it!" she said, voice shaking in shock and anger.

Oliver's eyes blazed. "Touch me again and we'll see how well yeh fly without a broom."

Fred's face was thunder. "I told you to leave her alone."

"Alright," George said quickly, pushing between them. "Let's take the testosterone down a few notches, yeah?"

Lee stepped beside him, eyebrows raised. "Mate, I was joking about the punch. Not encouraging it."

Fred still had Oliver by the collar, breathing hard. His knuckles were white. For a second, Ava thought he might actually swing.

George leaned in, speaking quietly but firmly. "Fred. Let go."

Fred's jaw clenched but after a long, tense beat, he finally dropped his hands. Oliver stumbled back, chest heaving

Oliver stumbled back a step but didn't retaliate. "I should've known," he muttered, eyes flashing. "This isn't about her. This is about you not gettin' what you want."

Fred's voice dropped to something dangerous. "No. This is about you thinking you can take what you want just because you're Quidditch captain and flash a smile. She's not a prize."

"You're out of line," Oliver snapped, stepping forward. "Back off before you regret it."

George stepped between them again, this time with more force. "Okay, time out. Both of you, to your corners. No fists, no hexes, no accusing anyone of pining. Merlin's underpants, it's like babysitting Blast-Ended Skrewts."

Fred's chest was heaving, his jaw tight. He looked at Ava, and something raw shifted behind his eyes. Then he turned, muttering something sharp under his breath, and stormed off down the hall with Lee quickly following and calling after him.

George sighed, giving Ava a look that tried for lightness but didn't quite land. "Don't mind him. He's got the emotional range of a teaspoon. A… um… very loud teaspoon."

He gave her a brief, apologetic smile, then jogged off after his brother.

Oliver stood there a beat longer, then glanced at Ava, his voice still low and rough. "Yeh alright?"

She nodded faintly, though she couldn't quite find her voice.

Oliver let out a long breath, brushing a hand through his hair. "Always had a temper, that one."

As they began to walk slowly back toward the dorms, Ava couldn't stop hearing iFred's voice echoing back through the corridor.

She's not a prize.

And for some reason… it hurt more than she expected.