Thick Smoke

Dementor in the Train

Eliza's room was neither large nor particularly remarkable, even though Remus had offered more than once to enlarge it with magic, eager as he always was to indulge any small wish she might have had. Fortunately, the brunette witch had never been demanding. She was content with what she was given, as long as it came from someone she trusted, and for her, that person had always been Remus.

The room itself was somewhat crowded, yet undeniably comfortable. The walls were almost entirely hidden behind shelves filled with books, stacked in uneven rows that made the space feel smaller but more alive. Only near the bed and the door could one still notice the soft pink pattern beneath. Her bed occupied most of the room, placed in the right corner directly in front of the only window, allowing the morning light to fall across the sheets. Beside it stood a small nightstand made of dark wood, its surface cluttered with a few personal belongings. The dresser, positioned near the door, had been enchanted to hold far more than its size suggested, as Eliza had accumulated more things than the room could otherwise accommodate. It was modest for a girl stepping into her teenage years, yet she had never felt the need for anything more.

Packing did not take long. Most of her clothes were already gathered in one corner of the dresser, making the process simple. As she reached for a pair of socks, something silver slipped out and caught the sunlight as it fell to the floor. Eliza bent down and picked it up, her fingers closing gently around the necklace.

The medallion hanging from it carried a weight far beyond its size. It had been a gift from her mother, meant for the day she would enter Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was an owl with red rubies for eyes. It apparently held emotional value.

"Eliza?"

Her head turned sharply toward the door. Remus stood there, leaning casually against the frame, his expression calm, almost unreadable.

"How is the packing going?" he asked, stepping further into the room.

"Fine," she replied quickly, slipping the necklace back among her clothes as if it had never been in her hand.

"You know, Harry Potter, the son of Lily and James Potter, is already at Hogwarts," Remus continued, his tone light, though there was something beneath it.

Eliza nodded as she turned back to her luggage, her dark hair falling across her face. "You told me about them. You, Pettigrew, Potter, and my father were best friends. They helped you during the full moons."

Remus allowed himself a small chuckle and inclined his head. "James was meant to be your godfather, but James and Lily were killed by—"

"Voldemort," she finished without hesitation. "I know the story. The Potters died protecting their son, and when Voldemort tried to kill him, the curse failed. That is how Harry Potter became the boy who lived." She spoke with certainty, recalling every detail he had ever shared with her. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Sirius is Harry's godfather," Remus added, watching her closely. "If things unfold the way they once did, you and Harry might become close."

Eliza frowned slightly, unsure where that conclusion came from. "And if we do not?" she asked.

The question lingered in the air longer than expected, leaving Remus without an immediate answer. It was not a troubling possibility, but Eliza had always resembled more of Sirius.

*****

That night, the nightmare returned, more vivid than before, waking her even earlier than usual. Unable to remain still and unwilling to wake Remus, she took her broom and slipped outside.

The moment she stepped into the open air, she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. The wind had turned sharper with the approach of autumn, brushing against her skin with a cold edge. Once mounted on her broom, she rose into the air and began circling the house. It was a simple flight, repetitive and quiet, but it allowed her thoughts to settle, and she felt a faint sense of ease.