𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 | 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘗𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳

37 || Feelings

Over the course of the next few days, in which Madam Pomfrey forced Harry and I to stay in the hospital wing, we had a constant stream of visitors. Dante came in almost every day, bringing food and talking with both me and Harry, though Harry refused to say more than a few words to him.

Finally, we were able to return to the hustle and bustle of the school on Monday. Malfoy was beside himself with Gryffindors' defeat, and finally took off his bandages, celebrating the use of both arms by imitating Harry falling off of his broom.

Malfoy spent much of their next Potions class doing Dementor imitations across the dungeon; Ron finally cracked and flung a large, slippery crocodile heart at Malfoy, which hit him in the face and caused Snape to take fifty points from Gryffindor.

"If Snape's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts again, I'm skiving off," said Ron as we headed toward Lupin's classroom after lunch. "Check who's in there, Ash."

I peered around the classroom door.

"It's okay!" I said brightly. Professor Lupin had returned, looking shabbier than ever, but smiling nonetheless.

At once, the class burst into complaints about Snape.

"It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he give 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. The babble broke out 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 every face. "Don't worry. I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay."

"Oh no," said Hermione, looking very disappointed. "I've already finished it!"

We had a very enjoyable lesson. Professor Lupin had brought along a glass box containing a Hinkypunk, a little one-legged creature who looked as though he were made of wisps of smoke, rather frail and harmless looking.

"Lures travelers into bogs," said Professor Lupin as we took notes. "You notice the lantern dangling from his hand? Hops ahead--people follow the light--then--"

The Hinkypunk made a horrible squelching noise against the glass.

When the bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door, Harry among them, but--

"Wait a moment, Harry," Professor Lupin said. "You too, Ashlynn. I'd like to have a word with you."

"I heard about the match," said Lupin, 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 called Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it. No broomstick would have a chance."

"Did you hear about the dementors, too?" I inquired.

"Yes, I did. I don't think any of us have seen Professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been growing restless for some time...furious at his refusal to let them inside the grounds...I suppose they were the reason you fell?"