Azlyn, Nyx, and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Sirius Black and Hogsmeade.

Apparently, when I was ‘awakened’ everyone who knew me at one point glowed light blue for a second, then went back to normal. When Harry, Hermione, and Ron first saw me, they jumped on me and asked me why I wasn’t in any of my classes. I explained the whole ‘half-soul’ thing, but assured Ron that I had my own soul and was no longer a half soul when he flinched away from me.

We caught up with each other and the trio and Azlyn filled me in on what happened in classes. At least this time I wasn’t coming into classes almost a third into the year… When it was time for bed, I walked up with Azlyn and Hermione when suddenly, I was attacked!

By my furry friend Muggle.

“MERRRROOOOW” she screeched, launching herself at me like a missile. “Muggle!” I cried happily, catching her in the air. She licked my cheek and started purring. Azlyn gave me a funny look. “So Muggle IS yours, like the letter said.” I nodded and scratched Muggle’s ear. “Yep. Luckily animals remember those who were half souls.” Azlyn nodded, seeming to understand something.

“Oh that’s right!” Hermione exclaimed. “You had a cat!” I nodded happily. “I got a cat too, you know. His name is Crookshanks. Ron hates him.” She said almost sadly. A ginger cat with a squashed up face jumped off Hermione’s bed and came over to my bed where I was holding Muggle. He looked at Muggle suspiciously before jumping on the bed to get a closer look. When the two cats started playing together, Hermione looked happier that Crookshanks had a friend. We all said goodnight, and went to sleep.

Three weeks passed and, in no time at all, Defense Against the Dark Arts had become most people’s favorite class. Only Draco his Gitness Malfoy and his tiny gang of Slytherins had anything bad to say about Professor Lupin. “Look at the state of his robes,” Malfoy would say in a loud whisper as Professor Lupin passed. “He dresses like our old house elf.”

I had to restrain Azlyn a few times from clocking Malfoy (he was being a prat, so I now refer to him as Malfoy until he grows up to -er- continue our relationship), but no one else cared that Professor Lupin’s robes were patched and frayed. His next few lessons were just as interesting as the first (Hermione had explained to me what went on).

After Boggarts, we studied Red Caps, nasty little goblin-like creatures that lurked wherever there had been bloodshed: in the dungeons of castles and the potholes of deserted battlefields, waiting to bludgeon those who had gotten lost. From Red Caps we moved on to Kappas, creepy water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.

My other classes weren’t as happy. Worst of all was Potions. Snape was in a particularly vindictive mood these days, and no one, not even me, was in any doubt why. The story of the Boggart assuming Snape’s shape, and the way that Neville had dressed it in his grandmother’s clothes, had traveled through the school like wildfire. Snape didn’t seem to find it funny. His eyes flashed menacingly at the very mention of Professor Lupin’s name, and he was bullying Neville worse than ever.

What a jack-wagon.

I was also growing to hate the hours I spent in Professor Trelawney’s stifling tower room, deciphering lopsided shapes and symbols that I just couldn’t understand. I couldn’t like Professor Trelawney, even though she was treated with respect bordering on reverence by many of the class. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown had taken to haunting Professor Trelawney’s tower room at lunch times, and always returned with annoyingly superior looks on their faces, as though they knew things we didn’t. They had also started using hushed voices whenever they spoke to Harry, as though he were on his deathbed.

Douches.

Nobody really liked Care of Magical Creatures, which, after the action-packed first class (why did I have to miss the most exciting class?! It had hippogriffs in it! Come on man!), had become extremely dull. Hagrid seemed to have lost his confidence. We were now spending lesson after lesson learning how to look after flobberworms, which had to be some of the most boring creatures in existence. “Why would anyone bother looking after them?” said Ron, after yet another hour of poking shredded lettuce down the flobberworms’ throats.