The Order of Mischief I (Marauders)

1.28

Spring had already blossomed through the Scottish highlands that hosted the Hogwarts castle. The meadows were filled with bright green grass that stretched for miles. Even once a broom was mounted and flown into the sky, it was hard to see anything but endless blue and green. The skies were empty of clouds so the view was only clearer when flying. But the vibrant days

In replace of rain clouds, bees, birds and butterflies flew about the atmosphere, making as much noise as they could. Professor Sprout's greenhouses were the one of the most uncomfortable parts of the castle to walk past during the wonderful season. But thankfully, she had rearranged all the plants accordingly, letting some of the animated ones scare away any animal that came too close to eat by snapping at it every once in a while.

The garden behind the greenhouse was decorated with bushes of flowers that blossomed around the pathways. Further away from the castle, but still in the green space, large trees were rooted into the ground - it was a space where many students would sit beneath. The shade cooled students as many lounged beneath them. Beside the concrete path between the flowers and trees were lines of benches and tables. The lot of them were occupied by students who were experiencing the pressures of exam schedules and intense study sessions. Amongst them were the daughters of the ever-ancient Zion bloodline. They had taken up their own wooden bench and table, one that was beneath a large tree that blessed them with shade.

The girls had made the bench their designated seat after Frank Longbottom had introduced them to the peaceful garden. He always knew to find them there after their lessons had ended, courtesy to Sahara having asked him to remind them to return to their friends whenever an hour or two would end, if they were not already with their best friends. On more recent days, Frank would accompany his friends and sit beneath the tree, always remembering to send the girls to the castle before sundown. It was after the girls were asked to create a friendship of their own that the four had made a point to always reunite after classes, either to finish their work or to simply talk about anything.

"I cannot believe Lupin missed that potions test," Eralia said, leaning over her homework and comparing her essay to the information in the text book.

"He got lucky. That was a horrible test, I hated it. I am sure I failed it, even after all the studying we did together," Sahara mumbled as she refused to look up from the letter she was writing. It was one she would send to her mother and father, on behalf of her sister and her.

Beside her, the younger of the pair was drawing in her leather-bound journal, switching between her masterful collection of pencils as she progressed with the image. Without looking away from her artwork, she asked, "Have you noticed how he is always ill?"

Anya looked up from her book as the question was asked, staring at Nahara with a curious expression. The youngest in the group stayed silent as she thought back to the number of times Remus Lupin would miss lessons and claim to be sick. Sahara finally looked up at her company, folding her letter neatly as she spoke, "I asked about that, apparently he just has a weak immune system."

"I thought all magical beings don't get sick," Anya stated with a hesitant tone.

Eralia laughed and shook her head, she was not loud and judgemental in the way she did, she was simply amused. Finally, she corrected the curly-haired female beside her, "No, we all get sick. Illnesses and sicknesses are not something any species is particularly immune to."

"Wait, so it really is just that he frequently gets sick for no reason?" Nahara asked, looking up from her work. Her twin nodded and the girl frowned, "I was kind of hoping we could put together a little conspiracy theory about it."

"Of course, you were," Eralia smiled as she tucked away her homework, having completed it and fixed her answers. She glanced to her side and stared at the book that was not being read by Anya, at that moment, "Whose book is that?"