The Sun, Moon & Stars

41. Tea, Chocolate and Heartfelt Discussions

'I'm going to do it.' Harry announced to Ophelia with a deep breath.

The two of them were standing outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, where Professor Lupin was ready to teach again; after Harry had, not-so-subtly yanked her aside before she could enter with Hermione and Ron.

'I'm going to need more to go on than that.' Ophelia frowned, searchingly.

'I'm going to ask Professor Lupin for help after class.' Harry refigured—adjusting his round glasses and messing up his jet black hair (he often did that when he was nervous).

'Really?' She asked, face lighting up and when he nodded she continued, 'Oh you won't regret it. He's very smart, he knows all about dementors and pretty much any creature you could possibly ask him about. I'm sure he can help you.' She assured him, practically glowing.

She quite liked having people to brag to about him.

Today Remus introduced them to Hinkypunks; smoke coloured and frail one-legged creatures. They were harmless, but enjoyable to inspect. On top of that, he announced to all of them that they didn't need to worry about the werewolf essay Snape had assigned; which brought relief to everybody—though none of them had done it anyway, except Hermione.

Ophelia was happy to see him working again; teaching brought something out in him she couldn't quite place and she wasn't sure that anything else in the world could have the same effect. His honey eyes shimmered a little extra even when he was tired; and his smile, which he had become so used to forcing, seemed to appear natural and genuine—something she hadn't seen in quite some time.

After class, Harry stayed behind and with one last reassuring glance from Ophelia, she retreated to the corridor to wait for him while he spoke to her Dad. And after a couple minutes of nagging from Ron and Hermione, who were quite insistent that she come with them, they finally left her too. Hermione wanted to go over notes, and Ron offered a game of Wizard's Chess and while both were, truly, remarkable offers; she wanted to wait for Harry.

Harry exited the classroom soon after, looking less-nervous and more hopeful as he slung his book bag over his shoulder and helped Ophelia up from where she sat against the stone wall.

As they began to walk, neither of them spoke. In the three years they had known each other they had come to the conclusion along the way they were just as content together in silence as they were in conversation—they didn't need to be rambling on about something to enjoy the others company; and if Harry really didn't want to speak, she wouldn't force him to.

Despite being inside, the corridors were chilly—the stone walls did so little to protect them from the harsh November temperatures outside and the stain glass windows were thin and old; often some with cracks. She often wondered why nobody ever fixed that—it was a simple spell, after all.

'He's going to try and teach me how to defend myself from them.' Harry announced, around five minutes into their walk.

'The patronus charm?' Ophelia inquired.

'Is that what it's called?' Harry asked, furrowing his brows.

She nodded knowingly, 'Yeah, it's sort of like a protective spell. It casts away the dementors using happiness. I've seen Dad cast it before, for fun sometimes. He used it on the train too.'

Harry nodded, remembering and then,

'You look concerned.' Harry noted, ignoring what she had said.