𝔚𝔞𝔯 𝔬𝔣 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 // 𝔍𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔓𝔬𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯

FOUR || Remus Lupin

Estella

October 5th, 1974

Fully healed and no longer confined to the Hospital wing, I've been working very hard in classes, determined to stay at the top, but what's been pissing me off, not only now but for the past few years, is that Potter is always at the top of our Transfiguration class, and I'm always seeming to be at the bottom.

I sit poring over my textbooks at a table in the library. It's been hours of studying Transfiguration and I'm starting to develop not a better understanding of the topic, but a head ache.

Massaging my pounding head and shutting my tired and heavy eyes, I heave an irritated sigh. It's so frustrating, I've been at this for hours and I still don't know what the hell this all means.

"Are you alright?" someone from a few feet behind me asks in a low and curious whisper.

I open my eyes and fix my posture quickly.

"I'm fine." I whisper, trying to ignore whoever it is. But that's an impossibility when the person comes and sits next to me at the round, polished oak table. I almost roll my eyes when I see it's Potter. "What do you want?"

"Nothing, do you need help?" He asks, looking down at my scrawled notes, and eyeing the spot where I pressed so hard out of anger on the parchment with my quill that it tore the piece and left a black spot of ink bleeding all throughout it.

"No. I got it." I mumble,

"Well," he whispers, leaning closer, "You got number seven wrong...and three...ooh, and eleven, that one's easy." he criticizes, eyeing my homework page.

"Shut up." I groan, "You don't need to help me."

"I don't mind."

"I do." he furrows his dark eyebrows, "I already owe you for helping me last week, you can't help me again, then I'll owe you even more."

"You don't owe me anything. I saved you because it was right, not because I wanted something in return. And I'd be happy to help you with this, no strings attached."

"Seriously?" I give in.

"Yeah," he grins his iconic "James Potter" grin, his hazel orbs twinkling in the flicker of the burning candles in front of us.

"Alright," I sigh, "Just this once."

"Brilliant."

We got to work, he explained kindly what I did wrong on the ones I missed and helped me to better understand. A few times I caught myself staring at him as he looked down at the textbook, reading it aloud in a whisper, his voice was calming and I just felt like I would be able to listen to it for hours.

After only half an hour, everything made perfect sense and the candles burnt all the way down to only inch-tall, white cylinders of wax.

I close the text book and gather my homework.

"Thank you," I whisper,

"Anytime, Stella." I was about to object at him calling me this, only my sisters and friends call me that, but I found that I actually like it, so I let it be and smile at the boy.

"Walk me to the Slytherin common room?" the words flee my mouth before I even realized I wanted him to walk me. Instantly my face gets hot and I regret what I said deeply.

"Of course." his smile widens at me asking him and together we exit the library and enter the dimly lit corridor outside it.

For a couple minutes, we walk in silence, until someone finally says something.