Untouchable: a Fred Weasley fanfiction

Not So Scary

The bell rings. I'm getting up from my chair and sliding my notebook back into my bookbag, Blaise doing the same on the other side of our desk. 

I fish out the small novel at the bottom of my bag, extending it to him. "My latest selection. What do you got for me?"

He takes it from me, observing the cover. "Dead Poets Society. Looks intriguing." 

He slips it into his bag and grabs the returning gift. I take it, reading the title myself. 

"Howl's Moving Castle," I read, admiring the cover art. "Fantasy, I see?"

"Thought I'd offer you a changeup," he says, swinging his bag on. 

I grin, nodding at him in appreciation. We bump fists and he heads out while I continue to gather my things, slipping the novel beside the rest within the fabric. 

Before I can swing my own bag on my shoulder, I hear Professor Lupin's voice as he approaches my desk. 

"Hey, Jo, have you got a moment?" he asks. 

Almost all of the class has filed out as I look up at him. "I think so." 

"If you've got to run to your next period, I'll get out of your hair," he says, slipping his hands into his pockets. 

I've always liked how casual he is in talking to students- it makes everything more comfortable. I actually enjoy our conversations quite a bit... we think a lot alike. 

"I've got ten minutes," I smile. "Eons of time." 

He chuckles, nodding at my desk chair. "Take a seat."

I slowly sit down, setting my bag back onto the floor. "Am I... in trouble?" 

"Quite the opposite," he replies. "I just wanted to check in." 

I find that I'm still smiling. 

"It's almost the holidays," he continues, "you'll be going on break. The end of the semester. What's your review?"

I fold my arms on the table. "You know, Professor... it's far better than I ever expected it to be." 

He smiles warmly. 

"I really don't have any complaints," I shrug. "I've got good friends, I'm doing well in classes... I mean, I'm in a bloody band!" 

"Language." 

"Sorry." 

He's still smiling, too. "I'm glad to hear it. I knew you'd do well. I knew right as you conquered that Boggart." 

I blush, fidgeting with my sleeve. 

"Are you excited for your break?" he asks. "I'm sure you miss your family." 

"Yeah, I'm looking forward to seeing my mum," I reply. "We have a pretty small Christmas every year- often, we invite my aunt and cousins over." 

"Do you like them?" 

"Yeah, they're brilliant," I grin, all the fun memories with my cousins coming back. "They're both boys. I always thought of them as my brothers. My uncle works overseas quite a bit, so most times he can't make it- that's why our holidays are so small." 

I stop talking, looking at him again. 

"Sorry," I say awkwardly- "I feel like I'm sharing a lot."

"No apology necessary," he smiles, shaking his head. "Do you like having such a small holiday?"

"I actually do, quite a bit," I answer. 

What I don't tell him is how I sometimes wish I could have experienced a Christmas with both her and my dad. She always said he loved taking her out to dinner on Christmas eve, then to a new tree lighting somewhere they hadn't been before. They'd always apparate. He'd take her back home, and they'd dance to some more music.