Fear of a Name

Chapter Thirty: My Fault

"If Snape's taking Defence Against the Dark Arts again, I'm going off sick," said Ron as we were almost at  the classroom after lunch the following Tuesday. "Check who's in there, Hermione."
Hermione peered around the classroom door as I waited for the inevitable all clear. The full moon had been a few days ago, so it was highly unlikely that Lupin was still off sick.
"It's ok!"
"Thank Merlin," said Ron.

"That reminds me, Ivory," Harry said quietly as we entered the classroom. "How was your detention with Snape? Sorry, I meant to ask before, but Oliver made the team go up to bed before you got back on Friday, and then what happened at the match put it out of my mind..."
"It's fine, don't worry," I said, trying to give myself a little more time to think of the best thing to say about the detention. "And it went ok, though a lot different to what I had expected, to tell the truth."

I pulled my right sleeve down a little more so I was certain that nobody could see the scars spelling out 'I must not defend Mudbloods and half-breeds' on my hand.
"What did he make you do?" Harry asked as we sat down.
"Just some lines," I replied — which, in a way, was true.

Professor Lupin, though looking pale and exhausted, smiled at us all as we sat down. The rest of the class all burst into an explosion of complaints at Snape's behaviour while Lupin had been "ill," and I gave them all a warning glance to remind them of the fact I didn't want anyone telling him about my detention.
"It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he set us homework?"
"We don't know anything about werewolves—"
"—two rolls of parchment!"
"Did you tell Professor Snape we haven't covered them yet?" Lupin asked, frowning slightly.

Everyone started talking at once again.
"Yes, but he said we were really behind—"
"—he wouldn't listen-"
"—two rolls of parchment!"
Professor Lupin smiled at the look of indignation on everyone else's face.
"Don't worry, I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay."
"Oh no," said Hermione, sounding very disappointed. "I've already finished it!"

My eyes flicked to her at once as I tried to see if she'd worked out why Snape had set the essay in the first place, if she'd worked out Lupin's secret. Was it just me, or was there a look in her eye that hadn't been there before? A look of knowledge, a look that meant she knew what Lupin was? I noticed that rather than sitting completely upright as she normally did, she was slightly hunched over, her hands fidgeting with her book. Her head was tilted so she was looking downwards, and her legs were twitching under the table. I had taken to reading body language in an effort to control the signs of fear and anxiety I showed when around my father and the Death Eaters, so I knew what this meant.

She was scared.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Wait a moment, Harry and Ivory," called Professor Lupin as the bell rang at the end of class. We had just gathered up our stuff and started to head for the door with the rest of the class. "I'd like a word."
Harry and I looked at each other, then doubled back, and watched as Lupin used a cloth to cover the glass box containing the Hinkypunk we'd been taking notes on during the lesson.
"I heard about the match," he said, turning back to his desk and starting to pile books into his briefcase, "and I'm sorry about your broomstick, Harry. Is there any chance of fixing it?"
"No," said Harry. "The tree smashed it to bits."

Lupin sighed.
"They planted the Whomping Willow the same year that I arrived at Hogwarts. People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk. In the end, a boy named Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it. No broomstick would have a chance."
Lupin didn't seem to want Harry to know that you can essentially freeze the tree by using an immobilising spell on the knot at the base of the trunk, so I kept silent.

"Did you hear about the Dementors, too?" said Harry.
Lupin looked at him quickly.
"Yes, I did. I don't think any of us have seen Professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been restless for some time... furious at his refusal to let them in the grounds... I suppose they were the reason you fell?"
"Yes," said Harry. He hesitated, then suddenly said, "Why? Why do they affect me like that? Am I just—"

"It has nothing to do with weakness," said Professor Lupin sharply, guessing what Harry was about to say. "The Dementors affect you worse than the others because there are horrors in your past that the others don't have."
His eyes flicked to me for a second as he seemed to remember that I, too, had fainted on the train. I looked down at his desk quickly.

"Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope and happiness out of the air around them. Even muggles feel their presence, though they can't see them. Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory, will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself- soulless and evil. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that has happened to you, Harry, is enough to make anyone fall off their broom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of."
"When they get near me—" Harry started, and I knew I wasn't ready for what he was about to say, "—I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum."

I turned away slightly, trying to hide the tears that were filling my eyes.
My fault my fault my fault my fault my fault—
"Are you ok, Ivory?" Lupin asked me, his voice sounding a little sad.
I nodded quickly.
—my fault my fault my fault my fault—
"I'll be out there if you need me," I said quietly, before leaving the classroom and closing the door so they wouldn't see me when I finally broke.
—my fault my fault my fault—

I tried to ignore the two words that were repeating themselves in my mind, but I couldn't. I couldn't because they were true. My father had tried to kill Harry so that he could raise me. He was sure I would be a worthy heir in the event of his death, though he believed it almost impossible that this event would even occur. It was my fault Harry's parents had been killed, my fault Sirius was considered a mass murderer, my fault the Dementors were guarding Hogwarts, my fault Harry had fallen off his broom.
It's all my fault!

"Ivory?" Harry said as he came into the corridor a few minutes later. "Professor Lupin says that he'd like to talk to you, you know, if you're ok with it..."
"Thanks, Harry," I mumbled, wiping the tears from my face and standing up.
"See you in Transfiguration," he said awkwardly, before walking away down the corridor.