HP • Legilimency | 𝐍. 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘

𝐇𝐨𝐠𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞

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Madame Pomfrey insisted on keeping them in the hospital wing for the remainder of the weekend, and, for the first time, there was no resistance, as both felt it was necessary.

Narcissa only stepped away from Astria's bedside when she needed to attend her classes. Her pallor gradually gave way to a healthy colour again.

As if her tumultuous thoughts weren't enough, the trauma and humiliation, and the agitation she felt when thinking about the Dementors were disturbing her, and Harry, who had very similar but extremely more disorganized thoughts, was adding to her turmoil.

It was a relief to return to the bustle and activity of school on Monday and be forced to think about other things. The classes continued without much incident. Except for Professor Lupin, who undoubtedly looked like he had been unwell.

According to his peers, he hadn't been compassionate in the last few classes because he was feeling very unwell, and Snape taught in his place.

His robes, which must have seen more springs than Professor Binns himself, hung like a Gryffindor's hopes in a Quidditch match against Slytherin, and he had dark circles worthy of a depressed vampire. Still, he smiled at the students in their seats as he always did. He was kind and patient throughout the entire class, correcting postures and how they held their wands.

Lupin was one of their best teachers, also one of the most beloved. Astria began to feel guilty about the ugly feelings she had towards the man, but she couldn't help it. Something was wrong with him, and she already knew what it was, but she had no proof. As for her resentment towards him, she could already guess the reason, but she didn't want to admit it.

When the bell rang, everyone put away their materials and headed for the door,
Astria among them, but...

"Wait a moment, Astria. You too, Harry," Lupin called. "I'd like to have a word with you two."

Astria turned around and exchanged a glance with Harry before watching the professor put away some materials they had used for Expelliarmus practice.

"I heard about what happened at the game," Lupin said, turning to his desk and starting to pack books into his briefcase. "I'm sorry about the broomstick accident. Is there any chance of repairing any of them?"

"No," Harry replied. "The Whomping Willow smashed them into a million pieces."
Lupin sighed.

"They planted the Whomping Willow the year I arrived at Hogwarts. Students used to play at trying to get close to the trunk and touch the tree with their hands. In the end, a boy named Davy Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden from going near the Whomping Willow. A broomstick wouldn't stand a chance."

"Did you also hear about the Dementors?" Astria asked hesitantly.

Lupin cast a quick glance from one to the other. "I heard. I don't think any of us had seen Professor Dumbledore so upset and Professor Black so furious. They've been getting restless... Irritated with the headmaster's refusal to let them onto the property..."

"Why? Why do they affect me this way? Am I just...?" Harry began, and before he finished the question, Astria kicked him in the shin.

"You're not weak! If it were about weakness, I'd be too, but I'm not!" she said sternly.

Lupin hid a smile behind his hands as he watched Harry raise his foot to hand level with an expression of annoyance and pain.

"Has nothing to do with weakness," the professor replied, trying to contain his smile. "Dementors affect you worse than others because there are horrors in your past that don't exist in others'."