burning hearts - Harry James Potter

Pt.

On the last day of Christmas break, Davie and Remus returned to Hogwarts together to both prepare for the start of the classes the next morning.

As they stood in front of the Gryffindor common room, to which Remus had walked Davie, Davie said: "Again, thank you so much for letting me stay with you."

Remus nodded. "Thank you, for wanting to stay with me."

For him, it had been amazing to get to know his daughter over the short course of two weeks and he had valued every minute of it.

Davie smiled at him. "Of course." She wasn't really sure what to do now. It wasn't like they were on hug-basis, as it was still kind of strange to be calling him her dad, but he had also been so nice to her and she felt bad for not returning it as much as she'd like to.

*

Lessons started again next day. The last thing anyone felt like doing was spending two hours in the grounds on a raw January morning, but Hagrid had provided a bonfire full of salamanders for their enjoyment, and they spent an unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing, while the flame-loving lizards scampered up and down the crumbling, white-hot logs. The first Divination lesson of the new term was much less fun; Professor Trelawney was now teaching them palmistry, and she lost no time in informing Harry that he had the shortest life-lines she had ever seen.

It was Defence Against the Dark Arts that Harry was keen to get to; after his conversation with Wood, he wanted to get started on his Anti-Dementor lessons as soon as possible.

'Ah yes,' said Lupin, when Harry reminded him of his promise at the end of class. 'Let me see ... how about eight o'clock on Thursday evening? The History of Magic classroom should be large enough ... I'll have to think carefully about how we're going to do this ... we can't bring a real Dementor into the castle to practise on ...'

'Still looks ill, doesn't he?' said Ron, as they walked down the corridor, heading to dinner. 'What d'you reckon's the matter with him?'

There was a loud and impatient 'tuh' from behind them. It was Hermione, who had been sitting at the feet of a suit of armour, repacking her bag, which was so full of books it wouldn't close.

'And what are you tutting at us for?' said Ron irritably.

'Nothing,' said Hermione in a lofty voice, heaving her bag back over her shoulder.

'Yes, you were,' said Ron. 'I said I wonder what's wrong with Lupin, and you –'

'Well, isn't it obvious?' said Hermione, with a look of maddening superiority.

'If you don't want to tell us, don't,' snapped Ron.

'Fine,' said Hermione haughtily, and she marched off.

'She doesn't know,' said Ron, staring resentfully after Hermione. 'She's just trying to get us to talk to her again.'

*

At eight o'clock on Thursday evening, Harry left Gryffindor Tower for the History of Magic classroom. It was dark and empty when he arrived, but he lit the lamps with his wand and had waited only five minutes when Professor Lupin turned up, carrying a large packing case, which he heaved onto Professor Binns' desk.

'What's that?' said Harry.

'Another Boggart,' said Lupin, stripping off his cloak. 'I've been combing the castle ever since Tuesday, and very luckily, I found this one lurking inside Mr Filch's filing cabinet. It's the nearest we'll get to a real Dementor. The Boggart will turn into a Dementor when he sees you, so we'll be able to practise on him. I can store him in my office when we're not using him; there's a cupboard under my desk he'll like.'