startlit supernova - melpomelody - Harry Potter (2024)

Chapter 1: Starlit Supernova / Two Worlds Apart

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━━━━━WHAT CAUSES A SUPERNOVA?Do you want the best answer, even if it is not the answer you expect? When it becomes too tired to carry on providing light. The scientific answer would be when a massive star runs out of fuel and the force of gravity causes it to collapse on itself and thus—explode.

However, scientific answers aren't fun—they drain people from searching beyond what the books tell you. It stops you from looking beyond what the obvious seems to be. You just stop ... looking—as if you don't care, as if it's not important, as if it couldn't mean the end of the world(not that Nova Holloway's being dramatic; she isneverdramatic). If you would look beyond what the books say, you would know sheisn'tbeing dramatic. She's telling the truth—she sees things. Not a supernova, but ... things. She's confused by it, and will stay confused until the foreseeable future(that phrase is becoming less and less welcoming the more Nova sees).

Nova always struggled to see a connection between her name and supernovas. In fact, Nova wasn't even her birth name—Caroline was her birth name. Her birth mother called her Caroline Nova(unknown last name, because of course, Nova's mother didn't want to be known), but her adoptive parents decided Nova was a better name. They thought it fit her better; they thought she would be too worn down by the weight Caroline held. Nova supposes she can't hold it against them, but ... who could she hold it against? Her birth parents were mysteries—blank faces, swirling with mist, vague voices that might not be their own(all from what Nova sees, of course). When she was younger, she would see her birth mother as herself—clear blue eyes, thick black hair, bangs that nearly covered her eyes like a sheepdog. Then Nova realized she might look nothing like her mother—instead, she would look like her father. It was harder to envision him; he was shrouded in more darkness, swirling mist like a heavy fog. She couldn't even hear him whisper anything.

Her mother always whispered;Caroline. I miss you Caroline. I wish I could have seen you grow up, Caroline. But I want you to be free; that's what you deserve. A better life than mine, Caroline.She always said Caroline. If Nova knew it wouldn't break her parents' hearts, she would ask to go by Caroline—just so she could hear more people call her by the name her birth mother had wanted. But she also loved the name Nova—it was her, even if her birth mother hadn't envisioned it that way.

Nova figures she should stick by the books—just let the scientific answer snuff her curiosity just enough—but she couldn't. She justcouldn't. No one was perfect, and there was no doubt—Nova Holloway had her flaws. Often, people said her nosiness was her worst flaw, and perhaps, they have a point. She tries to take it in stride—there's worse flaws(like being moody, for example ... which she is), but it was hard ignoring the way people would scoff when she started talking about something she shouldn't know(that was another thing—Nova struggled to learn when to open her mouth).

For the flaws she has, Nova was very supernova-like—she runs herself ragged to the point of exhaustion, she finds a way to blow something to bits, and for a moment, burns bright. She could only get mad at herself; it was always her fault. It was just ... her; she caught people's eye out of necessity. She wanted them to look—needed the approval she so desperately craves.(But Nova will never admit that to anyone.)

It had gotten tiring to her over the thirteen years, but yet, she would find herself doing the same things over and over. And on her eleventh birthday, it had become worse. That's when she learned her mother had been from a wizarding family and could perform magic—therefore, so could Nova. That was also when Nova was given the letter her mother had written for her. The name Caroline made much more sense after reading the only thing Nova had ever gotten from her mother.

It had become a cycle—running herself ragged searching for why her mother had given her up, her parents and friends becoming sick of hearing about it all, and then Nova running head-first into a painful dead-end of clues. It was clear to see Nova was a victim to cycles she created—often in the same pattern of a supernova.

It all starts with running out of fuel. Nova would run herself to the bone, until the point she was neglecting everything else in her life. The "heat" of this would cause the pressure(or stress)to push on her, and the "gravity"(her friends and parents)would start pushing back—telling Nova to give it up. But Nova just ... couldn't. She had burned through the "fuel" and the pressure starts dropping—dropping until something(most things this "something" was Nova)would just ... explode.

IF I BURN BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN ...

NOVA HOLLOWAY
━━━━ the supernova

HARRY POTTER
━━ the chosen one

i.disclaimers!i own nothing in theharry potter universebesides nova holloway, her story, & the other characters i have made. everything you see in this book that is not original to this fanfiction belongs to the original creators ofharry potter— j. k. rowling. all rights go to j. k. rowling, besides nova holloway, emile hawkins, and any other characters i have made.
any gifs used in the book do not belong to me, they belong to the original creators. i have simply edited the size of them to fit what i want. the graphics, although,dobelong to me.
i hate that i have to mention this — but i do not agree nor align myself with j.k. rowling and her ideologies! she's a bigot who just got really lucky in making a good plotline.

ii.trigger warnings!this book will talk about and/or include cussing, death, graphic imagery of death, violence, not-so-great families, jk rowling bullsh*t, mental illness (depression, anxiety, ptsd, etc.), and the regularharry potterthemes that are present in the books.
do not read this book if any of that is trigging to you. reading this is not — and never will be — more important than you and your mental health!

iii.other things! if i get anything incorrect or come off as insensitive, please tell me and i'll absolutely fix my mistake!
also, don'tsteal! that's not cool. i'll find out and i'll make you ... take it down or something.

iv.other notes!i am not from the u.k. so therefore — i don't write in, nor use, u.k. english besides odd words i may spell with u.k. spellings (greyversusgray, for example). so majority of the words will not be spelled with the u.k. spellings.
i will also try to keep american slang to a minimum but i may slip up here and there; more so, there will be no british slang besides what's in the original books because i don't know any british slang. we can point and giggle about it — but if you are rude about it, i'm not going to tolerate it and i will probably block you.
i'm going to try and get booksprisoner of azkabantothe deathly hallowsall in this book, but i'm not confident so we'll see how that goes lol
also, i don't remember these books as well as i remember pjo/hoo so a lot of this ... pure vibes fr. so if i get things wrong — please forgive, i am nothing but a girl 🫶

Chapter 2: o. Dear Caroline

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━━━━━DEAR CAROLINE,

Did you know that your name means "free woman"? That's why I gave you the name Caroline; I want you to be free. I don't want you to be bound to me or my family. I don't want my family's sins binding your hands. I want you to be your own person.
That's why I gave you up.
It wasn't an easy decision. It was never going to be an easy decision. My heart wrenches at the thought of you. My heart twists knowing that I will never be able to hold you again, or ever see you grow into the beautiful woman I know you will become. But it's for the best. I have to keep telling myself that—this is all for you. Not for me.
I know that's not the answer you will want, and if you're anything like me, you will demand to know more. But do not. Please. Trying to find out who I am will cause you more pain and grief. I bet by the time you get this letter, I will already be dead. That is what they want—they want me gone, so they will want you gone.
I'm involved with dangerous people, Caroline—not of my own volition, but they know who I am, and I know too much about them and what they're planning. I think I made them even more upset by breaking family traditions and having a kid with a Muggle man, and not following family traditions of names.
I know I will never be able to keep you from this world entirely—not with my blood flowing throughout your veins. I know you will attend Hogwarts, and I know you'll be a shining student among your peers. I wonder what House the Hat will decide you belong to — hopefully, not my family House. You shouldn’t be burdened by that House as I was. But I hope by my sacrifice, the Hogwarts you attend will be safer than the Hogwarts that I had to leave behind.
I know you will want to know who I am, but I beg of you to let my name and past and my mistakes stay a mystery to you. When I die, I want not just my body to die—I want my memory to die with me. Know that I love, love you so much that I gave you up so you could have a better life than the one I could have ever given to you.

Chapter 3: Act One ━━ Prisoner of Azkaban

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STARLITSUPERNOVA━━ ACT ONE

Starting now!
melpomelody © 2024

Chapter 4: i. Saving Grace

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━━━━━NOVA'S PARENTS CALLEDher a saving grace. It was no shock they would. She was their child—adoptive child or not. (But why they didn't just call her Grace instead of Nova, she didn't know.)Her adoptive parents, Lee and Gail Holloway insisted, however, that shedidsave them.

She didn't know the story until she was older—around eleven or so. She remembers learning after her eleventh birthday, which was the day Minerva McGonagall appeared at the Holloways' front door, saying that Nova had magical blood(or was a memorable birthday for such a seemingly forgettable age). Nova knew she was adopted—she looked like neither of her parents, and they thought it was best not to lie abouteverything; however, Nova didn't know that her parents wished upon a star for Nova.

Lee and Gail started dating ten years before Nova was born, October 9th, 1969; they married three years before she was born, October 9th, 1976; Nova was born on their third anniversary, October 9th, 1979. It was easy to say that October 9th was a special day to the Holloways—only it was a bit more special than Nova ever knew. Her parents—Gail, specifically—struggled with infertility, and so desperately did Lee and Gail want a child. It was something Gail was very honest about with Lee when she first met him; she never hid the truth of her infertility from him, not even on their first date. But Lee was optimistic(something that has stayed with him over the years), and he was determined that they would beat the odds.

But they didn't—not in the way they expected, at least. A "tradition" of sorts Lee and Gail had created was wishing upon stars(they had also vowed to name their children after stars; so perhaps that's why they called her Nova—from her birth name—rather than something like Grace). They had wished upon stars every year on October 9th for a child—every year until 1979, long after they had lost hope, but continued for the sake of the tradition. For ten years, they had wished, and after ten years, their prayers were answered. Two days after October 9th, 1979, the Holloways received a call from their agency, saying that a child named Caroline had been placed in the adoption system by her nameless mother. Lee and Gail didn't waste a minute before agreeing to take Caroline in; in time, roughly a year later, they would legally adopt Caroline and change her name toNovaCaroline.

That's how Nova Holloway became a "saving grace". However, don't let that fool you. Nova felt like she was anything but a saving grace. In fact, she felt like she was more likely to follow her namesake and cause a colossal explosion—a supernova.

✴

September 1st meant that Nova's summer was over. It was easy to say she wasn't happy about it, either; however, she wasn'tunhappy, either. She enjoyed summer; she liked the freedom that came from no school—but she loved Hogwarts. Hogwarts was a second home, a home away from her parents but with friends who felt like family. She loved talking with her friends, basically living with them in her Hufflepuff dorm room, and she loved learning(if she was interested in the topic; that meant she automatically hated History of Magic), but Nova hated the amount of work her teachers assigned. And just like her older Hufflepuff classmates had promised her, the schoolwork was increasing by dangerous amounts every year.

Nova wasn't abadstudent, by any means. She just found it ... difficult to keep her nose in the books(and you can't blame her, alright? Those dusty books from the Hogwarts library stunk!)And youreallycan't blame her—so many other important things were going on!

The "many other important things" were finding her birth mother. That, or re-reading the letter written by Nova's birth mother. And if Nova wasn't re-reading that letter, she was looking into another lead that would surely lead to another dead-end on where her birth mother went. However, at the rate Nova was going, it seemed she was never going to getherwish—or anything else other than writing four scrolls worth about the dangers of sticking your hand inside a boiling cauldron.(Thatwasa real assignment; apparently, Professor Snape didn't share the same humor with Ernie Macmillan.)

"Mum," Nova groaned. "You do this every year ..."

Gail Holloway blinked tears out of her eyes. "You're gone forsolong, Noves."

Nova frowned. "S'only for nine months, Mum." She knew that was a long time, but she couldn't help herself but to say it. Gail and Lee were both overly sentimental, and her parents always became teary-eyed when the end of August came. "I mean ... I'll be back before you know it. I'll tell you all about the cool things I learn!"

Her parents were Muggles—no magical capabilities whatsoever. And that means they could never explore the wizarding world with Nova. It was hard in the beginning, but they found a way around it with her owl, Lyrid. Nova would send letters—about everything she was learning, tell her parents she was alright, and make sure that her parents were never caught on that she was considered weird by wizarding standards(her dreams werenot normal).

"Weekly letters," Lee reminded her.

"Weekly letters," his daughter agreed.

Lee Holloway tried to be the "man" of the house, but he was just as easy to tears as Gail. Not that hewasn'tstrong, but he didn't fit the typical look of masculinity. With a thin, wiry frame, and mousy brown hair, Lee Holloway would never look "masculine"—whatever that meant.

"And you'll focus on your schoolwork instead of that silly letter!" added Gail, waving her hand.

Nova's face churned. That was harder to agree to. She eyed her brown trunk, where she knew her birth mother's letter was. "I will," she answered, nodding to Gail. But Nova could hardly even convince herself.

She gave her parents one last hug before making sure no Muggles were looking her way. Nova grabbed and wheeled her trolley through the entrance to platform nine and three-quarters. Soon, the Hogwarts Express was there—a scarlet stream engine, puffing smoke over a platform packed with wizards and witches seeing their children off for a new school year at Hogwarts.

Nova wheeled her trolley around the gatherings of people, hauling her stuff onto the train. She had already said her goodbyes, and now, she had to find an empty compartment—or a compartment with any friends. Luckily, she found some friends fairly quickly. Nova could hear Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley bickering about the best Quidditch teams. She swung the compartment door open, startling them from their argument; she had her trunk in one hand and Lyrid in the other. Hannah Abbott stood up quickly, took Lyrid's cage, and placed him next to her cat, Oncilla.

"Personally, I say Montrose Magpies are great," expressed Nova, pulling her trunk inside.

Ernie frowned at her. "Why's that?"

Nova never had much interest in Quidditch, especially considering she hated flying with brooms. The other three in the compartment knew that, so they all looked at her curiously, wondering if she had a sudden change of heart over the summer.

She shrugged. "Magpies are cute."

Ernie rolled his eyes dramatically. "'Course you'd say that, Nova."

Hannah grinned, settling back into her seat. "I like the Appleby Arrows."

Justin leaned forward in his seat. "They haven't won inforever, though ..."

Nova put her trunk overhead in the storage. "Who won the Cup last?"

"Uh—Canada, I think."

Nova sat next to Ernie, looking between her three friends. They all had a much bigger interest in the sport than she did. "How d'you think it's lining up for the '94 Cup?" she asked, only to entertain the others' interest.

Ernie grinned. "I think Ireland's got a shot at winning this year!"

The black-haired girl rolled her eyes. "Country pride much?"

Ernie shrugged. "Well, of course."

Justin huffed. "It's got to be Scotland this year," he insisted, puffing out his chest.

Hannah snorted into her knuckles. "You're only saying that because you think that Scottish girl is hot!"

Justin flushed and sputtered, "That's—that's not true, Hannah!"

"Totally not," Nova agreed sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Justin blushed worse—from the roots of his blond hair all the way down to his wiry fingers. "I can't wait until one of you has a crush. Just so you know—payback's a bitch!"

Ernie snorted. "Sure you will."

"What's her name?" Nova asked, leaning over to Justin. "Isn't she a year older than us or something?"

"She's a Ravenclaw, right?" asked Hannah. "Dara something. I can't remember her last name."

Justin scowled at them. "I can't wait until one of you gets a crush," he repeated.

Nova waved her hand dismissively. "I had a crush on this seventh year for so long and youneverfigured it out. What makes you think you could figure it out if I liked anyone else?"

Hannah brought Oncilla onto her lap, petting the cat in a repetitive motion. "Yeah, Nova wassuperobvious about it. But Rhys was cool about it."

"I don't know what subtly is," Nova admitted carelessly, shrugging.

"Yeah, we know," Ernie responded without missing a beat.

Nova smacked his arm. "You don't know it, either."

✴

The train rattled onward, heading for Hogwarts. The rain was pouring against the windows, making it nearly impossible to see outside. The wind was roaring past, warning everyone about what kind of storm they were in for.

But none of that seemed to matter to the four Hufflepuffs, who were all stashed away in a compartment on their own. They had bought loads of stuff from the trolley lady, enough to have three piles nearly as tall as Nova's torso.(It was called Honeydukes Express, but barely anyone ever called it that.)Justin even had brought some Muggle card games to teach Ernie and Hannah about since those two hadn't been raised around Muggles.

However, the card games Justin had brought were even mysteries to Nova—somehow who was raised by two completely Muggle parents. Eventually, they realized the card games weren't worth the hassle, nor the small spat Nova and Ernie had.("Didn't you pay attention?" Ernie rolled his eyes at the girl.

Nova flushed. "Says the boy who's lost the last four rounds—"

"Have not!")

Hannah grew tired of their bickering, ripping the cards out of Nova, Ernie, and Justin's hands, and she tucked them all back into a pile and stuffed them into Justin's trunk. She sat back down and looked out the dark window. "We must be nearly there."

The words had barely left her mouth when the train started to slow down.

"Thank you, Merlin." Nova groaned. "I'm nearlystarved!" She started to stand up, reaching for the stuff she had put overhead, but Ernie stopped her.

"I swore we had a couple more hours," he said, frowning. "We haven't been traveling long enough yet ..."

She frowned back at her friend. "What? Why are we stopping then?"

Just after Nova finished, the train came to a full stop with a small jolt. She stumbled forward, knocking her knees into the seat. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows. Loud thuds resounded from throughout the train, signaling that tons of luggage had fallen out of their racks. Then, without warning, the lamps all around them went out and they were plunged into total darkness.

The four were quiet for a moment, then Nova cursed; "What thehell?" She stood up, keeping a hand on the seat in front of her. "This is like a horror movie," she spoke. "This isexactlywhat happens when the killer is about to show up."

"Horror movie?" Ernie asked. (Stupid Purebloods and their zero knowledge about Muggle things.)

Hannah's voice pitched three octaves higher; "Killer?!"

"Nova's not being serious, Hannah," Justin promised. "And it'snota horror movie."

Nova glared in the direction Justin's voice was coming from. "That's what they always say in the movies."

"Nova shut up!" Justin snapped at her.

"If I could see you, I wouldtotallypunch you," the girl told him.

She heard someone stand up and shuffle around. She heard the compartment door slide open.

"D'you think we've broken down?" Hannah asked, mostly to herself.

"Well, of course," Ernie answered back. His voice came from farther away, Nova was pretty sure he was looking out the compartment door. "But why?" he said.

"Where's my wand ...?" Nova muttered, patting down her back pockets and jacket pockets. "I'm gonna useLumosor something."

"Ernie, get back in here," Justin said, sounding nervous. "We just need to wait it out."

"Wait—" Ernie said. "I see someone."

Nova grabbed her wand(a nice wand made out of alder wood and with unicorn hair for its core)and mutteredLumos—a blueish light erupted from the tip of her wand, and Nova swung it across the compartment. She could see Justin and Hannah peering at her, squinting their eyes at the sudden burst of light; Ernie was peering outside the compartment, looking down the train's corridor.

"Merlin, Ernie, that's socreepy," Nova said. "Are you pulling my leg about not knowing horror movies or what?"

Ernie only waved her over. "Come here. I need that light."

Nova didn't want to listen, but she steeled her nerves and shuffled over. She stopped beside Ernie, holding out her wand into the dark hallway. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments. No one seemed to know what was going on, either.

"You said you saw someone?" she asked anxiously, peering around the dark train.

"Yeah ..." murmured Ernie. "Somewhere over there." He pointed down the corridor, but the vagueness didn't help Nova see anything.

"I don't see anything." Nova shook her head, ducking back inside the Hufflepuffs' compartment. "I'm telling you—we just need to stay here and wait for the train to be up and working again."

"I really saw someone," insisted Ernie, frowning at Nova. He sounded offended that she didn't believe him. "They had dark, large robes on. I wanna say it was black, but, well, you know, it's dark out there."

"Forget it," Nova insisted, pulling Ernie back inside. She closed the door with her elbow before holding back up her wand to see inside. "Someone will get the train up and going again."

Behind her, the compartment door slowly started to slide open. Standing in the dark doorway, illuminated by Nova's wandlight, was a cloaked figure that towered up to the ceilings. Nova couldn't see its face—completely hidden beneath the black hood. Her eyes darted downward, and her stomach crawled into her throat, stopping her from croaking. There was a band protruding from the cloak—glistening, greyish, slimy-looking, and scabbed. It looked like it came from a corpse, something that had been decaying in water for a long time. But it was only visible for a split second; it was as if the creature beneath the cloak knew Nova was watching. The hand suddenly was withdrawn into the folds of the black cloak.

Closest to the door, Nova gasped and backed up. She bumped into Ernie, hearing him take in a sharp gasp of air.

As if copying Ernie, the thing—whatever it was—started to draw a long, slow, rattling breath. It was like the creature was trying to suck in something more than just air—maybethem. An intense cold swept over them all; Nova felt her breath catch in her chest. The cold went deeper than her skin. It was inside her chest, her DNA, it was inside her very heart ...

It wasn't just like a cold; it was like a poison—a poison seeping into her blood, crawling and invading the organs of her body. It was like her head had been covered in a layer of ice. She felt her body go stiff as a board.

She felt like she was being pulled along, brush scratching at her legs as if she was running. She heard screaming—Nova thought it might've been her Housemates but it was too far away to be them. Besides, it sounded like ... like aman.

Ernie backed away, and Nova fell to the ground. There was a flash, something like lightning crashed, and her eyes rolled back into her head.

Everything went dark, but only for a moment. There was that man's scream again, Nova heard it in the distance. There was a green flash, like a spell. A dog's bark. And then a wolf's howl—

The images and sounds sharpened, no longer did Nova feel like she was viewing everything through a dirty window. Above her, she caught a glimpse of something dark and shaggy passing over her; the thing temporarily blocked the starry night sky. It looked like a dog; a large, shaggy, black dog.

She heard the dog's bark a second time.

"Then you should have died!" a man screamed in her ear.

Nova heard the sound of a blade being sharpened, the sound sent a chill up her spine. It was like every hair on her arms stood on end. Newspaper clippings—a tattooed man with an aged face. He was snarling in the moving picture as if snapping at the camera.

A whipping tree flashed across her eyes, ripping away the paper clippings. A teacup replaced the moving tree, showcasing its tea leaves proudly. It looked like a dog, but then the leaves started moving—thedogstarted moving. The teacup swirled and then the dog appeared in front of Nova, running full force.

She opened her mouth to scream, but it wasn'thervoice, it was a misty, maddening voice; "Accept or you will lose yourself, Caroline!"

"—Nova!"

The girl shot up, hitting her head against someone else's—they both cried out in pain. Nova noticed how her cheeks were wet with tears. (How embarrassing, crying in front of others—actually, that wasn't important.)Nova's ears rang loudly, her skin tingling from the cold thatthingbrought.

The lanterns above her were alight, and the floor was shaking—the Hogwarts Express was moving again. Ernie and Hannah crouched over her, but Justin was gone.

"Nova, are you okay?" asked Hannah.

"Yeah." Nova's voice was croaky. She winced and cleared her throat. "I—Yeah, I am." Her body was sore, and her limbs were stiff as she tried to sit up. She was still on the floor, her wand lying beside her. TheLumosspell had been broken.

"Nova, you fainted," said Ernie, sounding worried. "Really, are you alright? If we had known you were close to fainting, I wouldn't have—"

"I'mfine," Nova insisted. "Where's Justin?" She tried to stand, but Hannah kept her on the ground, shaking her head.

Ernie was pale, paler than he already normally was, and his forehead looked beaded with sweat. "Justin went to get someone. You passed out and we didn't know what else to do. He's gone to get a seventh year—maybe Cedric if he finds him."

Nova peered between the two. "What happened?" she asked. "What was all that noise?"

"Noise?" repeated Ernie. "Nova, the noise wasyou. You were screaming, then muttering—it was like you were goingmad..."

Hannah sent Ernie a look. "Justin will be back soon, Nova. He'll be happy to see you're okay."

"But thenoise," insisted Nova, smacking away Hannah's hands. "People screaming—amanscreaming."

Ernie and Hannah exchanged a look. Nova frowned and looked between them. They didn't believe her.

The silence was only broken when Justin appeared in the doorway to their compartment. He looked relieved to see Nova conscious, but she still gave Hannah and Ernie weary looks. "Cedric told me about this man on board. Thinks the man's the new Defense professor.

Hannah frowned. "What could he do?"

Justin shrugged. "Wouldn't he know a spell to make sure Nova's alright? A Charm or something?"

"Alright, then." Ernie waved Justin over. "Help me carry Nova over."

"I'm notparalyzed," quipped Nova. "My legs are working fine, Ernie."

"I don't care," Ernie fired back. "C'mon. We're gonna find that professor."

The four left the compartment, Justin and Ernie led Nova all the way to the end of the train, where Justin opened the door on the right. The people inside, about five or six of them, all looked at the Hufflepuffs standing in the doorway.

"Uh, sir?" Justin spoke first, talking to the older man in the compartment. "Can you, uh, check on Nova? She passed out from the attack."

"You're being dramatic," Nova grumbled. "I only fell."

Ernie shot her a cold look. "Youpassed out."

The older man ushered Nova inside, leading her by the back. He was wearing a set of shabby wizard robes; he looked ill and exhausted. Despite having a relatively young face, his brown hair was sprinkled with grey. He grabbed a slab of chocolate(at least, itlookedlike chocolate), snapped off a section, and held it out to Nova.

"Eat," he told her, setting it in the palm of her hand. "You'll feel better if you do."

Nova looked at the others in the compartment with the man; she recognized them all as Gryffindors. Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, and Harry Potter(whom she had never spoken to before,purposely, mind you. Try talking to the boy who had been plaguing your dreams for as long as you could remember). Above them, on the luggage rack, she spotted a small, battered case that was held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string. The nameProfessor R. J. Lupinwas stamped across one corner in peeling letters.

"It was a dementor, wasn't it?" Ernie asked suddenly. "The thing that made Nova pass out?"

A cold shiver crawled its way up Nova's spine. She knew what dementors were—nothing good.

"Yes, it was, Mr. ...?" Lupin prompted for a name.

"Ernie Macmillan," he said. He pointed to Hannah and then to Justin. "Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Flecthley."

Nova held the chocolate but hadn't taken a bite yet. "Nova Holloway."

Lupin looked at her. "Eat," he insisted. "You'll feel better."

Nova stared at the man. "How'd a dementor get on the train?"

Lupin's expression looked pained. Maybe he had passed out, as well. He grabbed the large slab of chocolate again, breaking off pieces and handing them around to the students there.

"The thing looked ready to suck Nova's soul out of her body," Justin whispered, looking scared. "But then it just ...stopped."

"As if it sensed something better," agreed Hannah. "Its head—if you can even call it that—perked up and seemed to have sensed something better."

Silently, the Gryffindors all looked at Harry, who was holding onto a large piece of chocolate tightly. His piece of chocolate looked uneaten.

"It was from Azkaban," Lupin spoke up, breaking the silence. "The dementor."

Everyone stared at him. Professor Lupin crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket. "Eat," he repeated. "It'll help. No one can leave this compartment after me. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me ..."

He strolled past them and disappeared down the corridor.

"Here, Nova," Hannah said, holding out her piece of chocolate. "I don't need it."

Nova only shook her head in response. She sunk into the open seat closest to her. Her head pounded like someone was using her skull as a drum. She looked around to see if the other people there were eating, deciding if any of them looked ill(Lupin may have poisoned it, you never know). If any of them looked ill, it was Harry—his hairline was beaded with sweat, a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt appeared as he wiped the sweat away, and his green eyes looked shocked and hollowed with fear.

"Are you sure you're okay, Harry?" Hermione Granger asked, looking at the boy worriedly.

Nova had always thought Hermione was pretty, in a studious type of way(but everything with Hermione seemed to have a studious aspect to it). The girl had long, coily hair that was pulled into a slicked-back ponytail at the back of her head. Her ears poked out slightly, and Nova could see the small golden earrings she had chosen for the day.

"I don't get it," Harry said, wiping more sweat off his face. "Whathappened?"

"Well—that thing—thedementor—stood there and looked around—I mean, I think it did, I couldn't see its face—and you—you—" Hermione started to say, her eyes looking glassy with tears.

"I thought you were having a fit or something," spoke Ron, who looked scared. "You went sort of rigid and fell out of your seat and started twitching—"

Hannah and Ernie glanced at Nova, who glared at them to keep quiet.

"And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked toward the dementor, and pulled out his wand," continued Hermione, "and he said, 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' But the dementor didn't move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away ..."

"It was horrible," admitted Neville, in a higher voice than usual. He had a round face that was often tinted red (just because he had a naturally flushed expression or because he was easily embarrassed, Nova wasn't sure), and some blond hair he kept flat on top of his head. "Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?"

"I felt weird," said Ron, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. "Like I'd never be cheerful again ..."

Ginny Weasley(Ron's younger sister)was huddled in her corner looking nearly as bad as Nova felt, and she gave a small sob; Hermione went over and put a comforting arm around her. Both of the Weasleys looked like the rest of their family—flaming red hair, a freckled complexion with light skin, and light eyes. From what Nova could see, Ron had blue eyes while Ginny's looked more like a caramel brown color.

"But didn't any of you—fall off your seats?" said Harry awkwardly.

"No," said Ron, looking anxiously at his friend. "Ginny was shaking like mad, though ..."

"Well ..." Justin looked at Nova, who was nibbling on her piece of chocolate silently. "Nova fainted, but she didn't fall out of her seat. She tripped."

"Oh." Nova rolled her eyes. "Tell the whole world, then—how I tripped and fell and a dementor tried to reap my soul—"

Before she could say anything more, Ernie shoved the rest of the chocolate into her mouth. She started coughing, trying to eat the chocolate instead of choking on it. She glared at Ernie angrily. She felt bad enough already (although the chocolatewashelping; it was spreading a warm feeling throughout her body); feeling weak and shivery, like she was recovering from a bout of flu.

Professor Lupin had come back. He paused as he entered, looked around, and said with a small smile, "I haven't poisoned the chocolate, you know ..."

"We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes," continued Professor Lupin. "Are you all right, Harry?"

"Fine," the Gryffindor muttered, looking embarrassed. Harry had a tall nose with wire glasses that hung off loosely. He was skinny and tall, looking as if his limbs were impossibly far too long for his body. He had unruly black hair, and emerald green eyes that stood out against his other features.

Lupin looked at Nova, who was trying to cough as quietly as she could. Noticing how her face had reddened, he asked, "Are you alright?"

"She's fine," Ernie answered for her. He didn't even have the slightest bit of guilt on his face.

✴

The four Hufflepuffs made their way back to their original compartment. Professor Lupin seemed a bit hesitant to let them roam the train, but perhaps he didn't want to hear Nova complain anymore about leaving her owl all alone.

Lyrid seemed to still be spooked(and a bit mad that Nova had left him alone to fend for himself in the compartment), and so did Hannah's cat, Oncilla. By the time Nova and Hannah got their pets to calm down, the train had stopped at Hogsmeade Station. There was a great scramble to get outside; owls hooted, cats meowed, and a toad croaked loudly somewhere nearby. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets.

"Firs' years this way!" called a familiar voice.

Nova turned and saw the gigantic outline of Hagrid, a man far taller than the average. He was the groundskeeper for Hogwarts, and helped the first years take the traditional journey across the lake. He was beckoning the terrified-looking first years to follow him.

Nova followed the rest of the school along the platform and out onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students. The stagecoaches were pulled, but only Nova was guessing this, by invisible horses. When she, Ernie, Hannah, and Justin climbed inside and shut the door, the coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession.

The coach smelled faintly of mold and straw. Nova's brain still felt muddied, but she no longer felt feverish. She felt better, but she couldn't have looked too great as her friends kept looking over worriedly every minute or so.

As the carriage trundled toward a pair of magnificent wrought iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars, Nova saw two more towering, hooded dementors, standing guard on either side. A wave of cold sickness threatened to engulf her again; she leaned back into the lumpy seat and closed her eyes until they had passed the gates. The carriage picked up speed on the long, sloping drive up to the castle; Justin was leaning out of the tiny window, watching the many turrets and towers draw nearer. She would've been too if she wasn't so scared to see another dementor. At last, the carriage swayed to a halt, and the four got out.

They joined the crowds swarming up the steps, through the giant oak front doors, into the cavernous entrance hall(which was lit with flaming torches)and housed a magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors.

The door into the Great Hall stood open at the right; Nova followed the crowd toward it, but had barely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling, which was black and cloudy tonight, when a voice called, "Potter! Holloway! I want to see you both!"

Nova flinched at the volume, not expecting it. She turned around to find Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and head of Gryffindor House, calling over the heads of the crowd. She was a stern-looking witch who wore her hair in a tight bun; her sharp eyes were framed with square spectacles. Nova fought her way through to crowd to the professor with a heavy feeling of foreboding: Professor McGonagall just had this way of making her feel she must have broken the worst Hogwarts rule possible.

"There's no need to look so worried—I just want a word in my office," she told Nova and Harry, who were pushing their way out of the crowd. "Move along there, Weasley, Granger. Macmillan, there is no need to give me such a look."

Harry's friends stared as Professor McGonagall ushered him and Nova away from the chattering crowd; the two accompanied the professor across the entrance hall, up the marble staircase, and along a corridor.

Once they were in her office—a small room with a large, welcoming fire—Professor McGonagall motioned Harry and Nova to sit down. She settled herself behind her desk and said abruptly, "Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you two were taken ill on the train, Potter, Holloway."

Before either student could reply, there was a soft knock on the door, and Madam Pomfrey, the Hogwarts nurse, came bustling in. Nova tried her best to cover a sour face; it was bad enough that she had passed out, but it wasn't that big of a deal. Everyone was making such a big deal when she was just clumsy and absent-minded.

"I'm fine," Nova and Harry said at the same time.

"I don't need anything," Harry tacked on.

"Oh, it's you, is it, Potter?" said Madam Pomfrey, ignoring this and bending down to stare closely at him. "I suppose you've been doing something dangerous again?"

Then the nurse turned to Nova. "Miss Holloway," she said, sounding not-so-surprised to see her, "fall down a flight of stairs again?"

The girl's face flushed pink. "It was the moving staircases, Madam Pomfrey! They did it on purpose, I swear!"

"I seem to recall you told me the same thing a couple of times before," said Madam Pomfrey. "How many times can you blame the stairs, Miss Holloway?"

"Well ... once or twice, it was Ernie's fault," said Nova, looking aside. "He pushed me down."

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips at the student. She turned to Madam Pomfrey to say, "It was a dementor, Poppy."

She and the healer exchanged a dark look, and Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly. "Setting dementors around a school," she muttered, pushing back Harry's hair and feeling his forehead. "They won't be the last one who collapses. Yes, he's all clammy." Madam Pomfrey moved to feel Nova's forehead next, pushing back her bangs; when she was done, Nova hurried to fix the hair. "And so is she. Terrible things, dementors are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate."

"I'm not delicate!" said Harry crossly.

"Of course you're not," said Madam Pomfrey absentmindedly, now checking Harry's pulse.

"What do they need?" said Professor McGonagall crisply. "Bed rest? Should they perhaps spend tonight in the hospital wing?"

"I'm fine!" said Harry, jumping up.

Nova eyed the boy. She didn't want to stay in the wing, she'll admit, but Harry was being dramatic about it all. Madam Promfrey grabbed Nova's wrist, checking her pulse. Then the woman moved on to trying to peer into the Hufflepuff's eyes.

"Well, they should have some chocolate, at the very least," said Madam Pomfrey, who was now trying to peer into Harry's eyes next.

"We've already had some," Nova informed Madam Promfrey. "That Lupin guy gave us some. Professor Lupin, right?"

"Did he, now?" said Madam Pomfrey approvingly. "So we've finally got a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who knows his remedies?"

"Are you sure you feel all right, you two?" Professor McGonagall said sharply.

"Yes," said Harry at once.

"Very well. Potter go fetch Miss Granger for me. I need to have a quick word with her about her course schedule. Miss Holloway, you're free to go to the Great Hall for the feast."

Harry nodded and left, Madam Promfrey leaving soon after. However, Nova stayed seated in front of the Transfiguration teacher.

"Miss Holloway," Professor McGonagall said, "do you have anything you need to tell me?"

"The letter," the black-haired girl started abruptly. "You were the one to give it to me. Why?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what letter you're talking about," admitted the teacher.

Nova leaned forward in her seat, not liking this answer. "The letter from my mum. Mybiologicalmum, I mean. You gave it to me on my eleventh birthday, when you came and explained I was accepted to Hogwarts."

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows, nodding slowly, mainly to herself. "I remember, now," she said. "You asked why I gave it to you? I was told that's what your mother wanted. She wanted it to be given to you on your eleventh birthday."

Nova had known her mother had been a student at Hogwarts. However, that wasallshe knew. She had no idea what House, what years she went, and certainly not her name.

"So you know who my mum is?" asked Nova.

"If I recall correctly, you asked me that before, Miss Holloway," remembered McGonagall. "When I gave you that letter, you asked and I answered truthfully: No, I don't know."

"Maybe I was hoping you had remembered something," admitted Nova plainly. "It's nearly been three years since then."

Professor McGonagall placed her hands out in front of her on her desk, and interlocked her fingers. "I think we have a misunderstanding, Nova. You seem to think that I had held onto that letter since it had been written, but that's not true. I was given the letter the morning before I arrived at your house. I was told to give it to you. I was simply following orders."

Nova's eyebrows furrowed. "Who gave you the letter?" she asked immediately.

Professor McGonagall smiled. "I also recall the Sorting Hat debated for a couple of minutes on what House to put you in, Miss Holloway. The Hat debated between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, if I'm correct, because you never stopped looking for answers and for your loyalty."

"So, you're not gonna tell me?" Nova asked, pursing her lips.

"I'm saying look at all the angles," said the professor. "It'll be a more fulfilling conclusion if you do."

"Look at all the angles ..." Nova muttered to herself, standing up. She didn't want to show just how bothered she was. Shehadbeen looking at all the angles, but all the angles led to dead ends.

✴

Nova had missed the sorting. Not that she was particularly upset about that—it took forever and she was always starving. She slipped into the sea of Hufflepuffs, sitting at the end of the table, where a fourth-year(she was pretty sure his name was Dylan)scooted over for her. Nove peered around the fourth year, looking for the new faces who had joined for their first years. Nova saw her friends, Hannah, Ernie, and Justin closer to the middle of the table.

Professor Dumbledore(Hogwarts' headmaster)stood up to speak and the talking in the Hall ceased. Professor Dumbledore, though very old, always gave an impression of great energy. He had several feet of long silver hair and beard, half-moon spectacles, and an extremely crooked nose. He was often described as the greatest wizard of the age.

He seemed nice enough, maybe a bit crazy at times(maybe that was just his age; he had seen so much in his long life, he turned mad), and if Nova was right, maybe a bit of a prick for keeping such an important detail from her for years. But perhaps Nova was being a bit mean, and that was certainly plausible with how betrayed she felt now.

"Welcome!" said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast ..."

Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued; "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," the headmaster continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises—or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added blandly. Nova frowned, that was an odd thing to specify.

"It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I, therefore, warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors," he said.

Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound. The headmaster also had a flare for the dramatics(not that Nova could judge, she took for the dramatics as well).

"On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with Professor Lupin clapped hard, Nova among them. Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes. Lupin didn't look to be that promising but he had to be better than the other two Defense Against the Dark Arts professors Nova had before. Quirrel(who apparently was a host for You-Know-Who—like a parasite)and then Lockhart who was nothing but a downright fraud and criminal.

"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away. "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

Nova's jaw dropped. She played off her shock pretty poorly, she will admit. The fourth year beside her snickered.

"What?" the boy asked. "You got the monster book, too?"

"Did it try to eat you, too?" Nova asked the fourth year, her eyes wide.

The boy nodded. "It took a huge bite of my Mum's petunias. She flipped. Told me it had to be put outside."

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," continued Dumbledore, breaking Nova's conversation with the fourth year beside her. "Let the feast begin!"

The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. Nova had been ravenous before, but now, her stomach felt full of expectations(and slight fear)of her first day of classes.

Chapter 5: ii. The Grim Hippogriff

Chapter Text

starlit supernova
❛ ii. the grim hippogriff ❜

━━━━━ WITH A FROWN, Nova took her timetable from Hannah. She really hated how her roommates made her get up so early when they had two whole hours for breakfast. She turned her timetable over in her hands, reading the top to make sure she had hers and not another Hufflepuff’s. It had happened once—during her second year, Nova thought she was going to her own class when suddenly, her classmates had turned into sixteen-year-old giants.

“No need to look so dreary, Nova,” chided Hannah, grabbing the jar of blueberry jam passing by.

The black-haired girl rubbed her eyes, dragging her hands down the length of her face. Nova was not a morning person, and after yesterday’s … mishap, she would’ve rather do anything than get out of bed and face Hogwarts. Physically, she felt fine; however, there was still that sharp jabbing at the back of her head, where she had knocked her head against the suitcase. And she felt like she kept seeing a shaggy black dog from the corner of her vision.

“Easy for you to say,” she responded, brushing her bangs down. “You’re alarm clock wasn’t someone trying to suffocate you with a pillow.”

Susan Bones, one of Nova’s roommates, rolled her eyes. “I hit you once, ‘cause you were refusing to get up.”

“I don’t know why you’re surprised,” snickered Hannah. “Nova’s always been like that.”

“We’re not,” Megan Jones assured. “We know how Nova’s is.”

"Oh, great," she grumbled. "I love waking up for the first day of class and having everyone attack my character." She grabbed the stack of bacon passing by and grabbed a couple of pieces. "You all suck, by the way."

Justin and Ernie sat down next to the four Hufflepuff girls. Ernie nodded his head towards the Slytherin table. "They've been at it ever since they learned people've passed out from the dementors."

Nova looked over to the Slytherin table, finding Draco Malfoy, who seemed to be entertaining a large group of Slytherins with a very funny story. As she watched, Malfoy made a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit and there was a roar of laughter from the people around him.

Her lip curled in anger. She liked some of the Slytherins she came across—not many, she'll admit—but a lot of them that she ran into seemed to look down on anyone who wasn't in the Slytherin House. When Nova was younger and newer to the wizarding world, she first thought they just had House pride, but now that she knew better—she realized it was a lot more than just House pride for some of them. They were put in the Slytherin House to continue on the “legacies” of their “noble” names, but they had no Slytherin qualities about them—they just had sh*tty qualities about them.

Nova looked over once more, in time to see Malfoy pretending to faint with terror again. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the Hufflepuff table.

"Cedric said Malfoy wasn't so co*cky last night," Justin spoke up. "Said when the dementors got to their end of the train, Malfoy came running into his compartment."

Ernie snorted. "Malfoy would deny that until the day he died."

Hannah looked away from the Slytherin table, shaking her head. She didn't say anything about them, instead changing the topic to class schedules and what everyone was taking for the year.

Ernie grabbed his timetable from the girl. "I'm taking three extra classes this year. Muggle Studies, Study—"

Nova furled her nose. "Three? Why the hell would you do that?"

"'Cause they sounded interesting, Nova," said Ernie, rolling his eyes. "Unlike you, I can pay attention in class."

The girl threw the blond an offended look. "I can pay attention, too! Just not History of Magic, though ..."

"I wish we could drop History of Magic," Justin sighed, swirling his spoon through a bowl of oatmeal. "Binns somehow makes rebellions boring. I mean—who can do that?"

"I'm taking Care of Magical Creatures and Divination," Nova said.

"Oo!" Hannah perked up, reaching for Nova's timetable. "When do you have Care of Magical Creatures? We may have it together, we can walk down there together."

"I have it after lunch," said Nova. "What else do you have?"

"I got Arithmancy," Hannah said. "But I didn't take Divination, but we walk to Care of Magical Creatures together!"

"Great!" Nova grinned.

✴

Nova was leaving the Great Hall when Neville Longbottom came up to her.

"Do you know where the North Tower is?" he asked her.

"You got Divination, too?" she responded.

The boy nodded. "And so does Harry, Hermione, and Ron."

Nova internally winced at the first name. Harry Potter had never done anything to her personally, but there was still a sour taste left in her mouth when he came up. After thirteen years of seeing him in a stupid, repetitive dream, you too would grow to resent his stupidly pretty face. (Mind you, Nova would never say that to anyone—the dreams, not that Harry Potter had a stupidly pretty face of course.)

It felt like she knew more about him with barely two conversations than she knew about her own birth mother. The thing was, Nova wanted to know about her birth mother, not the “Savior of the Wizarding World”. However, if she told anyone about that, they would just tell her that knowing Harry wasn't some huge feat considering everyone knew who Harry Potter was. He had defeated Voldemort more than once now. (Nova had also seen that in her dreams. If she cared to know, she might tell her dreams thanks for the information.)

"I'm not exactly sure where it is," admitted the Hufflepuff. "I should've asked Cedric before he left for classes."

She and Neville had become friends after a lesson in Herbology where Professor Sprout put them together their first year. Nova had been trying since then to get the boy to come out of his shell—a mission she was still having trouble accomplishing.

The journey to the North Tower was long, and Nova could feel the third pancake she had eaten in two bites (a dare by Ernie) weighing her down. She should've listened to Hannah and not eaten it. Nova had been at Hogwarts for two years, and that wasn't nearly enough time to know the layout of the castle. She and Neville stumbled upon Hermione, Ron, and Harry after climbing up their seventh staircase in a row. The three were peering down the empty passages to their right and left.

Nova placed her hand at her side, feeling the sharp jab of pain there. "You guys lost, too? Neville said you have Divination with us."

Ron jumped at her sudden appearance but nodded. "Er—yeah. We don't whether it's right or left."

"I think it's this way," said Hermione, peering down the empty passage to the right.

"Can't be." Ron shook his head. "That's south, look, you can see a bit of the lake out of the window."

Nova looked at the painting in front of them. A fat, dapple-grey pony had ambled onto the grass and was grazing nonchalantly. It was normal for the subjects of Hogwarts paintings to move, or even leave, their frames to visit one another, but it was still a marvel to see. A moment later, a short, squat knight in a suit of armor clanked into the picture after his pony. By the look of the grass stains on his metal knees, he had just fallen off.

"Aha!" he yelled, seeing the Hogwarts students before him. "What villains are these, that trespass upon my private lands! Come to scorn at my fall, perchance? Draw, you knaves, you dogs!"

They watched in astonishment as the little knight tugged his sword out of its scabbard and began brandishing it violently, hopping up and down in rage. But the sword was too long for him; a particularly wild swing made him overbalance, and he landed facedown in the grass.

"Are you all right?" said Harry, moving closer to the picture.

"Get back, you scurvy braggart! Back, you rogue!"

The knight seized his sword again and used it to push himself back up, but the blade sank deeply into the grass and, though he pulled with all his might, he couldn't get it out again. Finally, he had to flop back down onto the grass and push up his visor to mop his sweating face. Nova smothered a grin at the stupidity of the man in the painting.

"Listen," said Harry, taking advantage of the knight's exhaustion, "we're looking for the North Tower. You don't know the way, do you?"

"A quest!" The knight's rage seemed to vanish instantly. He clanked to his feet and shouted, "Come follow me, dear friends, and we shall find our goal, or else shall perish bravely in the charge!"

He gave the sword another fruitless tug, tried and failed to mount the fat pony, gave up, and cried, "On foot then, good sirs and gentle lady! On! On!" And he ran, clanking loudly, into the left side of the frame and out of sight.

The five hurried after him along the corridor, following the sound of his armor. Now and then, they spotted him running through a picture ahead.

"Be of stout heart, the worst is yet to come!" yelled the knight, and they saw him reappear in front of an alarmed group of women in crinolines, whose picture hung on the wall of a narrow spiral staircase.

Huffing and heavily out of breath, Nova was the first to climb the tightly spiraled steps. The further she went, the dizzier she got. At last, she heard the murmur of voices above her and knew she had finally reached the classroom.

"Farewell!" cried the knight, popping his head into a painting of some sinister-looking monks. "Farewell, my comrades-in-arms! If ever you have need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!"

Nova gave him a mock salute, which Sir Cadogan seemed to be pleased with. He gave her a nod of solitude and chased after his fat dapple-grey pony, which seemed much too tired to carry him around any longer.

"Yeah, we'll call you," muttered Ron as the knight disappeared, "if we ever need someone mental."

The five climbed the last few steps and emerged onto a tiny landing, where most of the class was already assembled. There were no doors off this landing, but Nova noticed the ceiling, where there was a circular trapdoor with a brass plaque on it.

"'Sibyll Trelawney, Divination teacher,"' Harry read. "How're we supposed to get up there?"

As though in answer to his question, the trapdoor suddenly opened, and a silvery ladder descended right at Nova's feet. Everyone got quiet. The girl glanced at the Gryffindor boy behind her.

"After you," she suggested, motioning to the ladder. "You summoned it."

And so, Harry climbed the ladder first. Then Ron, then Hermione, and then Nova climbed after them. The Hufflepuff emerged into the strangest-looking classroom she had ever seen. It didn't look like a classroom at all, more like a cross between someone's attic and an old-fashioned tea shop. At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside it, all surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little poufs. Everything was lit with a dim, crimson light; the curtains at the windows were all closed, and the many lamps were draped with dark red scarves.

It was stiflingly warm inside, and the fire that was burning under the crowded mantelpiece was giving off a heavy, sickly sort of perfume as it heated a large copper kettle. Nova was reduced to tugging at the yellow and black tie at the base of her neck. The shelves running around the circular walls were crammed with dusty-looking feathers, stubs of candles, many packs of tattered playing cards, countless silvery crystal balls, and a huge array of teacups.

"Where is she?" Ron said, peering around.

A voice came suddenly out of the shadows, a soft, misty sort of voice. "Welcome," it greeted them. "How nice to see you in the physical world at last."

Nova eyed the spot where the voice had come from. She was in between laughing at the absurdity or fleeing from the absurdity. Professor Trelawney moved into the firelight, and they saw that she was very thin; her large glasses magnified her eyes to several times their natural size, and she was draped in a gauzy spangled shawl. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings. The professor looked like a rather comical bug drawn to human form.

"Sit, my children, sit," she said, and they all climbed awkwardly into armchairs or sank onto poufs.

Nova found herself sitting with Neville and (rather unfortunately) Emile Hawkins, a third-year Ravenclaw. Neville was watching Professor Trelawney nervously, looking as if he was afraid she would burst into a swarm of bees and buzz around his head for the entirety of class. Emile had his brown eyes narrowed as he watched the woman bustle around, he didn't look enthralled but didn't look as if he hated it either.

Nova needed to figure out what to make of it all. Professor Trelawney seemed to be taking a rather obvious act of I am simply above all you meer, blind mortals for I was blessed with the gift of Seeing. If that act continued, the Hufflepuff was sure she was going to hate the class.

"Welcome to Divination," said Professor Trelawney, who had seated herself in a winged armchair in front of the fire. "My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye."

Nobody said anything to this extraordinary pronouncement. Professor Trelawney delicately rearranged her shawl and continued, "So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field ..."

At these words, Nova glanced at Emile, who often relied on books to prove his intelligence. The black-haired boy looked startled at the news. Nova had to wonder what she ever thought was attractive about the Ravenclaw.

"Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future," Professor Trelawney went on, her enormous, gleaming eyes moving from face to nervous face. "It is a Gift granted to few. You, boy," she said suddenly to Neville, who almost toppled off his pouf. "Is your grandmother well?"

"I—I think so," said Neville tremulously.

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you, dear," said Professor Trelawney, the firelight glinting on her long emerald earrings.

Neville gulped loudly, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Nova frowned, wondering if that was all Professor Trelawney's goal; to scare the students more than teach.

The professor continued placidly; "We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear," she shot suddenly at Parvati Patil, "beware a red-haired man."

Parvati gave a startled look at Ron, who was right behind her, and edged her chair away from him.

"In the second term," Professor Trelawney went on, "we shall progress to the crystal ball—if we have finished with fire omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever."

A very tense silence followed this pronouncement, but Professor Trelawney seemed unaware of it. Nova's jaw dropped. There was no way this woman really just predicted that one of the students would die.

"I wonder, dear," the professor said to Lavender Brown, who was nearest and shrank back in her chair, "if you could pass me the largest silver teapot?"

Lavender, looking relieved, stood up, took an enormous teapot from the shelf, and put it down on the table in front of Professor Trelawney.

"Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading—it will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October."

Lavender started to tremble.

"Oh, my—" Professor Trelaweny gasped dramatically, grabbing Nova by the arm and examining her face. "You, my dear, are troubled indeed! Your mind is muddled by all sorts of things. You see too much, yet too little. My child—do you realize what sort of Gifts were bestowed upon you?"

Nova's eyes widened, out of shock and embarrassment at being called out in front of the whole class. As she tried prying the woman's fingers off her arm, she struggled to say: "I'm a witch, is that what you're referring to?"

Professor Trelawney's cold fingers went slack suddenly, and Nova tore her arm away soon after. The woman tutted and started to shake her head as if the young girl was only fooling herself. "You will see, my child," she said ominously and strode away.

"Now, I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink, drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of Unfogging the Future. I shall move among you, helping and instructing. Oh, and dear" —she caught Neville by the arm as he made to stand up— "after you've broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue patterned ones? I'm rather attached to the pink."

Sure enough, Neville had no sooner reached the shelf of teacups when there was a tinkle of breaking china. Professor Trelawney swept over to him holding a dustpan and brush and said, "One of the blue ones, then, dear, if you wouldn't mind ... thank you ..."

"She's ..." Emile trailed off, watching the woman.

Nova, still rubbing the spot where Trelawney grabbed her, said, "Off her rocker. I want whatever she's got."

Emile snorted and went to get a cup, Nova trailing after him. When the three of them filled their teacups, they returned to their table and tried to gulp the scalding tea down. Nova swilled the dregs around as Professor Trelawney had instructed, then drained the cups and swapped cups. Neville got Nova's cup, she got Emile's cup, and Neville got Emile's.

Nova grabbed Emile's cup unhappily, opening up the book and turning to pages five and six. She squinted at the glass, referring back to the book every so often.

"Well," said Emile. "What does mine read?"

"I'm getting there. Give me a minute …" she grumbled. "It's a load of nothing. All it looks like to me is a pile of du—" Emile kicked her in the shin as Professor Trelawney shuffled past, looking like a more colorful dementor stalking the room.

"Well, Neville?" Emile asked. "You got anything?"

"A load of soggy bits," answered Neville. "Erm ... I think this looks like a sun ... the book says that means that's a symbol of great happiness."

Nova looked over curiously. She looked at what Neville was pointing and said dryly, "That's just a circle—a lopsided one, at that."

The Gryffindor blushed. "I guess it does look like that."

"You see anything, Emile?" Nova asked.

The boy shrugged. "I think I see a cross, so—sorry to tell you this, mate, but I think you're gonna have some trials and sufferings."

Neville's flushed expression paled. He busied himself by looking back into Nova's cup.

"Broaden your minds, my dears, and allow your eyes to see past the mundane!" Professor Trelawney cried through the gloom. Nova curled her nose, the smell of the room was hazing her mind more than anything else.

"Wait, Nova," Neville said. "This bit right here—You see it?" he asked, leaning over for her to see. "What does that look like to you?"

"Again, a pile of dung," Nova insisted. She shrugged. "I can't really see anything with this stuff."

Neville sat back in his seat, frowning to himself. He went down the page, looking back to his cup every so often. Emile leaned over to Nova and looked at his cup.

"You really don't see anything?" he asked her.

Nova shrugged and looked back at Unfogging the Future. "I guess I kinda see an acorn ..."

"Well, what does that mean?" Emile prompted.

"Um—'windfall, unexpected gold,'" Nova read off. "Merlin, mind lending me some? I could use some gold."

Emile grinned and a small dimple appeared on the right cheek of his dark skin. Maybe Nova was starting to remember why she thought the boy was cute. "Depends on how much it is," he told her.

Nova looked back at the cup, turning it slightly. "Oh, well now it kinda looks like a skull."

"The book says that means 'danger in your path'," Emile said. He only rolled his eyes. "You should've just stopped with the acorn, Holloway."

Nova gave him a cheeky smile. "What can I—"

"—Let me see that, my dear," Professor Trelawney's voice cut through the heavy air in the room. Everyone in the room went quiet to watch as she swept across the room and grabbed the cup out of Ron's hands.

Professor Trelawney was staring into the teacup, rotating it counterclockwise. "The falcon ... my dear, you have a deadly enemy."

"But everyone already knows that," said Hermione in a loud whisper.

Professor Trelawney stared at her.

"Well, they do," insisted Hermione. "Everybody knows about Harry and You-Know-Who."

Nova had never heard Hermione speak to a teacher like that before. Professor Trelawney chose not to reply. She lowered her huge eyes to Harry's cup again and continued to turn it. "The club ... an attack,” the professor said. “Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup ..."

"I thought that was a bowler hat," said Ron sheepishly.

Professor Trelawney only ignored him. "The skull ... danger in your path, my dear ..."

Everyone was staring, transfixed, at Professor Trelawney, who gave the cup a final turn, gasped, and then screamed. There was another tinkle of breaking china; Neville had smashed another cup. He had broken Nova's cup.

Professor Trelawney sank into a vacant armchair, her glittering hand at her heart and her eyes closed. "My dear boy ... my poor, dear boy no it is kinder not to say ... no ... don't ask me ..."

"What is it, Professor?" said Dean Thomas at once, leaning forward in his pouf.

Everyone (including Nova, she was nosey at heart, okay?) had got to their feet, and slowly they crowded around Harry, Hermione, and Ron's table, pressing close to Professor Trelawney's chair to get a good look at Harry's cup.

"My dear," Professor Trelawney's huge eyes opened dramatically, "you have the Grim."

"The what?" Harry asked at once.

"The Grim, my dear, the Grim!" cried Professor Trelawney, who looked shocked that Harry hadn't understood. "The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen—the worst omen—of death!"

Nova felt a bit sick. Maybe that third pancake was doing her in. She got a glimpse at Harry's cup and blurted, "It's a dog."

She hadn't meant to say it aloud. The professor stared at her, as did the rest of the class. "I'm sorry, my dear—what?"

"It's a dog," Nova repeated, realizing there was no way to feign ignorance to who said it. "I saw it in the cup. It's just a dog."

"It is not simply 'just a dog’," Professor Trelawney said, sounding aghast. "Did you not read your book? The Grim is an omen of death!"

Hermione, who had gotten up and moved around to the back of Professor Trelawney's chair, scoffed and said, "I don't think it looks like a Grim."

Professor Trelawney surveyed the girl with mounting dislike. "You'll forgive me for saying so, my dear, but I perceive very little aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future."

Seamus Finnigan was tilting his head from side to side. "It looks like a Grim if you do this," he said, with his eyes almost shut, "but it looks more like a donkey from here," he said, leaning to the left.

"When you've all finished deciding whether I'm going to die or not!" said Harry, looking as if he had even taken himself by surprise.

"I think we will leave the lesson here for today," said Professor Trelawney in her mistiest voice. "Yes ... please pack away your things ..."

Silently the class took their teacups back to Professor Trelawney, packed away their books, and closed their bags.

"Until we meet again," said Professor Trelawney faintly, "fair fortune be yours. Oh, and dear" —she pointed at Neville— "you'll be late next time, so mind you work extra hard to catch up."

Nova stuffed her book back into her bag, glancing over her shoulder at the teacup Professor Trelawney had left there. Just over the rim of the cup, she could see what was supposedly the "Grim" peering at her. If she looked hard enough, she could see the pointed ears and its long nose. She thought back to the weird vision she had—it was like it flashed across her eyesight. It was like she could see that night sky all over again. It was like she could hear the screams and howls, too.

"My dear? Your aura—it's more trouble than before." Professor Trelawney's voice called. "Are you well? Do you feel feverish?"

"I'm fine," Nova promised, her voice strangely quiet. "Really. I just need to get to my next class."

She could see Neville hanging back at the trap door like he was waiting for her. The Hufflepuff headed for the boy but Trelawney called again, "I am always free after lunch, dear. You should talk to me one-on-one—to clear your head."

"Uh, thanks," Nova said, turning her back to the teacher. She descended the classroom with Neville, who stopped her from leaving.

"Um, Nova?" he called. "I think you should know that I saw the Grim in your cup, too."

"Oh, real funny, Neville," the girl snapped. "But I thought pulling cruel jokes was the Weasley twins' thing."

"It's not a prank," Neville insisted. "When you were talking to Emile about that wonky cross, I saw it in your cup. At first, I wasn't sure, but when Professor Trelawney said she was one in Harry's ..."

The boy trailed off at the irritated look on Nova's face. If he looked long enough, he could see her left eye twitching. She licked her lips and sighed heavily as if looking for any kind words. "Trelawney seems to be saying a bunch of stuff in hopes that at least one thing comes true," she told him. "I wouldn't too much thought into the whole Grim thing, Neville. I think she just freaked you out."

Neville watched her nervously. "Yeah, maybe you're right," he agreed placidly, letting her make her way toward her next class.

✴

When Transfiguration class ended, the three Gryffindors joined the crowd thundering toward the Great Hall for lunch.

"Ron, cheer up," said Hermione, pushing a dish of stew toward him. "You heard what Professor McGonagall said."

Ron spooned stew onto his plate and picked up his fork but didn't start eating. "Harry," he said, in a low, serious voice, "You haven't seen a great black dog anywhere, have you?"

"Yeah, I have," admitted Harry. "I saw one the night I left the Dursleys."

Ron let his fork fall with a clatter. People glanced over at them.

"Probably a stray," said Hermione calmly.

Ron looked at Hermione as though she had gone mad. "Hermione, if Harry's seen a Grim, that's—that's bad," he said. "My—my uncle Bilius saw one and—and he died twenty-four hours later!"

"Coincidence," she replied airily, pouring herself some pumpkin juice.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" said Ron, starting to get angry. "Grims scare the living daylights out of most wizards!"

"There you are, then," said Hermione in a superior tone. "They see the Grim and die of fright. The Grim's not an omen, it's the cause of death! And Harry's still with us because he's not stupid enough to see one and think, Right, well, I'd better kick the bucket then!"

Ron mouthed wordlessly at Hermione, who opened her bag, took out her new Arithmancy book, and propped it open against the juice jug. "I think Divination seems very wooly," she said, searching for her page. "A lot of guesswork, if you ask me."

"There was nothing wooly about the Grim in that cup!" said Ron hotly.

"You didn't seem quite so confident when you were telling Harry it was a sheep," said Hermione coolly.

There was a thunderous sound as a flood of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws entered the Great Hall. They all seemed happy to be back at school, laughing and jeering with their friends. He caught sight of Nova, who was practically a blur of yellow she was heading for the Hufflepuff table so quickly, as she snagged a seat next to the plump boy named Ernie Macmillan. He saw a couple of Nova's friends trailing after her, cheerily talking about something. Nova said something to Ernie (Harry noticed how she used her hands a lot when she talked), and Ernie rolled her eyes and shoved her shoulder.

He had noticed it the year before, but Nova seemed to avoid him like he was the bad omen instead of the Grim. With what was happening his second year, Harry chalked it up to Nova being nervous about him being the Heir to Slytherin. But still, she gave him an odd sort of look, like he had done something to her personally. As far as Harry was aware, he had never done anything to step on her toes (not intentionally, at least).

"Mate?" Ron said, leaning closer to his friend. "What's wrong?"

"Nova passed out 'cause of the dementors, right?" Harry asked, taking a bite of food.

"That girl with the bangs? The Hufflepuff?" asked Ron. "Yeah, Ernie said she did. So what?"

Harry gave his friend an irritated look. "We haven't heard of anyone else passing out, have we? Have you?"

"Ernie said she hit her head," Hermione said. "I've been meaning to ask if she's alright." She said that last part more to herself rather than the two boys sitting with her.

"She talked about that Grim thing," Harry prompted.

Hermione groaned. "We're not talking about this again! She said it herself; she saw that Grim in your cup! Just like Nova said; It's just a dog. Besides, I hardly can understand how dogs can be an omen of death."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Not everything has to make sense, Hermione. You're just upset Professor Trelawney said you don't have the right aura for her class! You just don't like being bad at something for a change!"

The boy had touched a nerve. Hermione slammed her Arithmancy book down on the table so hard that bits of meat and carrot flew everywhere. "If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves, I'm not sure I'll be studying it much longer! That lesson was absolute rubbish compared with my Arithmancy class!"

She snatched up her bag and stalked away. Ron frowned after her.

"What's she talking about?" he said to Harry. "She hasn't been to an Arithmancy class yet."

Harry shrugged, taking a bite of his food. He glanced at the back of Nova's head for a second time, unable to shake the feeling that she knew more than she was letting on.

✴

Nova was pleased to get out of the castle after lunch. Yesterday's rain had cleared; the sky was a clear, pale grey, and the grass was lively and damp underfoot as she, Justin, and Hannah set off for their first-ever Care of Magical Creatures class.

The Hufflepuffs who had taken the class—she, Hannah, and Justin—went down the sloping lawns to Hagrid's hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, talking excitedly about the upcoming lesson.

Nova remembered the summer before her first year at Hogwarts her parents had taken her to Diagon Alley, to see just exactly what they were getting themselves into. While exploring every store there, the young girl found a book about magical creatures, a book that would spark her fascination with them. Over time, that spark had changed from a fascination to a wish to work with them as an adult.

The three had been one of the earlier students to arrive, watching as other third-years from all Houses made the trek down the hill. Hagrid was waiting for them at the door of his hut. He stood in a moleskin overcoat, with Fang (his pet boar-hound) at his heels, looking impatient to start.

"C'mon, now, get a move on!" he called as the class approached. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

For one nasty moment, Nova thought that Hagrid was going to lead them into the Forbidden Forest. However, Hagrid strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" he called. "That's it—make sure yeh can see—now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books—"

"How?" said the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.

"Eh?" said Hagrid, stopping and turning to look at the Slytherin.

"How do we open our books?" Malfoy repeated. He took out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which he had bound shut with a length of rope.

Other people took theirs out too; some, like Nova, had belted their books shut; others had crammed them inside tight bags or clamped them together with binder clips.

"Hasn'—hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" said Hagrid, looking crestfallen.

The class all shook their heads.

"Yeh've got ter stroke 'em," said Hagrid, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look—"

He took Hermione's copy and ripped off the Spellotape that bound it. The book tried to bite, but Hagrid ran a giant forefinger down its spine, and the book shivered, and then fell open and lay quiet in his hand.

"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Malfoy sneered. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!"

"I—I thought they were funny," Hagrid said uncertainly to Hermione.

"Oh, tremendously funny!" said Malfoy. "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!"

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry quietly.

"Righ' then," said Hagrid, who seemed to have lost his thread, "so—so yeh've got yer books an'—an'—now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on ..."

He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.

"God, this place is going to the dogs," said Malfoy loudly. "That oaf teaching classes, my father'll have a fit when I tell him."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry repeated.

"Careful, Potter, there's a dementor behind you."

"Oo!" squealed Lavender Brown, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock.

Trotting toward them were a dozen of the most bizarre-looking creatures Nova had ever seen. Although she was proud to say she knew their names as hippogriffs.

They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly, orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly-looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.

"Gee up, there!" he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

Nova grinned. Once you got over the first shock of seeing something that was half horse, half bird, you started to appreciate the hippogriffs' gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to hair, each of them a different color: stormy grey, bronze, pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut, and inky black.

"So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer—"

"Oo!" Nova stood up straighter, trying to see over the heads of her classmates. "Let's get closer!" she said, tugging on Justin's sleeve.

The blond watched the animals hesitantly. "Let's not."

Nova didn't listen and pulled Justin and Hannah forward regardless.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is, they're proud," said Hagrid. "Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don't ever insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle weren't listening; they were talking in an undertone and Nova had a nasty feeling they were plotting how best to disrupt the lesson. Despite the bad feeling, she tried her best to pay attention to Hagrid.

"Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff ter make the firs' move," the teacher continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt. Right—who wants ter go first?"

Most of the class backed farther away in answer. However, Nova shot her hand up into the air, nearly nicking the tip of Justin's nose.

"Brilliant, Nova!" Hagrid roared happily. "Right then—let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."

Nova climbed over the paddock fence. Hagrid untied one of the chains, pulled the grey hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath.

"Easy now, Nova," said Hagrid quietly. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink ... Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much ..."

Nova kept her eyes fixed on the hippogriff. Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head and was staring at her with one fierce, orange eye.

"Tha's it," said Hagrid. "Tha's it, Nova ... now, bow."

Nervously, Nova bowed slightly before looking up.

The hippogriff was still staring haughtily at her. It didn't move.

"Ah," said Hagrid, sounding worried. "Right—back away, now, Nova, easy does it."

But then, to Nova's enormous surprise, the hippogriff suddenly bent its scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.

"Well done, Nova!" said the teacher, ecstatic. He patted the Hufflepuff on the back, and Nova felt as if he was trying to knock one of her ribs loose. "Right—yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

Feeling giddy, Nova moved slowly toward the hippogriff and reached out toward it. She patted the beak several times and the hippogriff closed its eyes lazily, as though enjoying it. The class broke into applause, but Nova kept her eyes trained on Buckbeak.

"Righ' then, Nova," said Hagrid. "I reckon he might' let yeh ride him!"

The girl's eyes widened. "Er—Hagrid? I'm not so sure about that ..."

"He's not gonna hurt yeh. Yeh climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint," said Hagrid, "an' mind yeh don' pull any of his feathers out, he won' like that ..."

Feeling as if she had no other choice, Nova put her foot on the top of Buckbeak's wing and hoisted herself onto its back. Buckbeak stood up suddenly. Feeling a little more than foolish, she clung to his neck.

"Go on, then," roared Hagrid, slapping the hippogriff's hindquarters.

Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of Nova, and in no time, she was soaring upward. It was nothing like a broomstick (which Nova had only ever flown on once before; her first year during flying class), but yet, she knew which one she preferred. Luckily, Nova wasn't exactly afraid of heights, but the hippogriff's wings beat uncomfortably on either side of her, catching her under her legs and making her feel she was about to be thrown off. The glossy feathers slipped under her fingers and she didn't dare get a stronger grip, heeding Hagrid's warning.

Despite feeling as if she was slowly sliding off, Nova grinned with excitement. They were twenty minutes into her first lesson of Care of Magical Creatures and she could already say she had ridden on the back of a hippogriff. Her parents would hate to read her letter, but Nova was still going to write it to them anyway.

Buckbeak flew her once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground. She felt a heavy thud as the four ill-assorted feet hit the ground. She just managed to hold on and push herself straight again.

"Good work, Nova!" roared Hagrid as everyone except Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle cheered. "Okay, who else wants a go?"

✴

Let Nova be the first to say—Draco Malfoy was the biggest prick to ever walk to corridors of Hogwarts. If he had just listened to her, he would've been fine. But no, since she was a half-blood, that must mean she knew less than him about magical stuff. (Which totally wasn't the case!)

Since Malfoy had the inability to get his head out of his ass, he insulted Buckbeak, who acted in retaliation. The Slytherin totally ruined Hagrid's lesson and after seeing the professor not show up for dinner, Nova felt even worse.

She wanted to go tell Hagrid herself that the lesson was going perfectly and that it wasn't his fault but Ernie and Hannah shut down that idea immediately.

"There's no way you're walking the grounds at night." Ernie shook his head as if the idea was so foolish to him that he had to shake it away. "Just tell him the next time you have class."

"But ..." Nova stopped short, stabbing her steak with her fork. She sighed. "You guys never seemed to care about walking the grounds at night before, what gives?"

Hannah shared a nervous look with Ernie. "There's stuff in the Daily Prophet. Stuff about Sirius Black escaping Azkaban."

Nova was so shocked she almost forgot about Hagrid and Buckbeak. "Escaping Azkaban?" she repeated. "How?"

Ernie shrugged. "No idea. No one really knows, either," he admitted. "But that's why they've got the dementors all around. I heard Sprouts and Flitwick talking about it earlier."

Nova chewed on a piece of steak, racking her mind for everything she had heard about Sirius Black and Azkaban over the past two years in the wizarding world. Admittedly, it wasn't a lot —Sirius Black was this crazy mass-murdering wizard and Azkaban was this fortress made to keep wizards like him away from the public. But one thing she knew for sure, it was supposed to be impossible to escape from Azkaban's walls.

Chapter 6: iii. Your Greatest Fear

Chapter Text

starlit supernova
❛ iii. your greatest fear ❜

━━━━━ THE THOUGHT OF Dumbledore having been the one to have kept her birth mother's letter for all those years was something that wouldn’t leave Nova's mind. She knew it was a leap, and that she was grasping at straws to get what she wanted, but it wouldn't just leave her alone.

She blamed it all on Professor McGonagall. “Look at all the angles,” the Transfiguration teacher told her. Think of every possibility, every scenario possible. And the first one to pop into Nova’s head was that Dumbledore had given McGonagall the letter before she left for the Holloway house on Nova’s eleventh birthday. If that was true, then that meant the Headmaster had somehow had gotten his hands on the letter from Nova's biological mother — he could know her mother.

She didn't know how Dumbledore would've gotten ahold of it if he didn't know who her birth mother was. But what did she have to lose? It wasn’t like he would kick her out for simply asking if he knew her birth mother. (Well … he could if she got on the old man’s nerves just enough.) The Hufflepuff can't deny it, she was giddy at the thought of being so close to an answer. She had spent too much time running into dead ends to not be excited; however, her excitement was popped rudely by Ernie.

"You sound nutty," he decided oh-so wisely, swinging his fork in front of her face. "You seriously believe that Dumbledore would've held onto that for eleven years?"

"Well, someone did!" Nova scowled. "McGonagall said someone gave it to her. Who else could it have been?"

Ernie gave her a tired look. "Your birth mom, Nova."

Her friends knew of the letter that had been given to her on her eleventh birthday. They had all read it, too. But that's all they knew. Nova had always stayed quiet about her dreams. She knew that was odd for Muggles, and that it was still odd for witches—especially to say you had dreams about Harry Potter, and your birth mother whispering the name Caroline to you. Do you know how many people would just assume she was boy-crazy? Or that she just had some sort of identity crisis because of her adoption?

Nova's feelings only felt justified when she tried to tell them about that vision on the Hogwarts Express, and they just looked at her like she was crazy.

"I've told you this before," she insisted, leaning across the table. She dug her finger into the wooden grooves as so to not sway. "McGonagall said she doesn't know who my mum is."

"Er—Nova?" Justin spoke up hesitantly. "Professor McGonagall could've been lying. Professors lie all the time — you know, like, the importance of work outside of class?"

"Why would she lie about the letter?" countered Nova. "She wouldn't gain anything by lying about that."

"Maybe she was told to lie," offered Hannah. "Maybe your mother told her to lie. The letter says something about your mum not wanting you to know who she is, doesn't it?"

"And that she was involved with dangerous people," Justin recalled. "Personally, I would listen to her and just leave it."

"Yeah, well," Nova grumbled, "none of you got a letter from a biological mum who you’ve never met. I want to know why she gave me up for adoption. You wouldn't get it. None of you had been given up for adoption and given a letter saying to not find her."

Ernie glanced at Justin and Hannah, an unreadable look in his eyes. Nova's nostrils flared as she watched the three exchange a second look. She dropped her fork on her plate, her eggs left, half-eaten. She stood up, swinging her leg over the bench to the Hufflepuff table, and slung her bag over her shoulder. "I'm going to class," Nova declared with a snappy tone. "See you guys later."

Professor Lupin wasn't there when Nova arrived for her first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. As she had left the Great Hall early, there weren't many students inside yet either. Since the Hufflepuffs had the lesson with Ravenclaws, she caught sight of Emile sitting by himself, reading a book.

She dropped her bag next to the desk, sliding into the seat by the boy. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, widening them slightly. He marked his page before shutting and pushing it to the edge of the desk.

"I thought you didn't like me," he admitted to her.

Nova took out her book, a quill, and some parchment, shuffling them around to avoid answering. "I don't dislike you," she replied. "What gave you that idea?"

The black-haired boy shrugged. "You stopped talking to me all of a sudden last year."

The Hufflepuff tried to keep her face passive. She had stopped talking to him because she wanted to get over her crush, knowing it would always stay one-sided. She shrugged, her mind coming up blank for an answer.

Emile sat up straighter, his dark eyes examining her. Her mind muddled for a moment; Nova should've stuck to avoiding him. "What's that mean?" he asked her.

She shrugged again. "I guess it means I don't have a reason for why I stopped talking to you."

Just barely, she could hear a great amount of noise. 8:30 had rolled around and breakfast had ended, so now everyone was heading for their first class of the day. Slowly, more Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws entered the room, talking excitedly about the lesson with a new professor. However, when they noticed Lupin's absence, they glanced around curiously, as if he could've been hiding from them.

Nova saw Ernie, Hannah, and Justin walk in, looking shocked to see her sitting with an old crush she had denounced last year. Justin and Ernie sat side by side, leaving Hannah to sit by herself a row behind them. Nova ignored the guilt she felt for leaving Hannah by herself.

Finally, after the last student had entered, Lupin walked into the room. The chatter around the room died down quickly. He smiled vaguely and placed his tatty old briefcase on the teacher's desk. He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train as though he had had a few square meals. "Good morning," he greeted brightly. "I know it's early but would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's lesson will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."

A few curious looks were exchanged as the class put away their books. Nova glanced at Emile, who looked just as confused as she felt. They had never had a practical Defense Against the Dark Arts before, unless you counted that one day of class last year when their previous (also mental—Nova never understood the love people had for Lockhart) teacher had brought a cageful of pixies to class and set them loose. (Nova hated Pixies and Lockhart ever since then. One of those damn pixies tried to steal her wand and set fire to her school bag, and it was a nightmare trying to wrestle things that were the size of her finger.)

"Right then," said Professor Lupin, when everyone was ready. "If you'd follow me."

Puzzled but interested, the class got to its feet and followed Professor Lupin out of the classroom. He led them along the deserted corridor and around a corner. The class followed Lupin all the way until they stopped, right outside the staffroom door.

"Inside, please," said the professor, opening the door and stepping back.

The sea of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws looked around at their classmates curiously. As one, they all hesitantly stepped through the door and into the empty staffroom. Nova looked around the staffroom—a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs. She glanced back at Professor Lupin, who was filling in behind the students.

She asked; "Uh, sir, what are we doing here?"

Professor Lupin walked to the front of the group, saying, "This is where the lesson will take place, Nova."

He beckoned them all toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall. Nova jumped at that, knocking into Emile who was standing behind her.

"Nothing to worry about," assured Professor Lupin calmly. "There's a boggart in there."

Some of Nova's classmates looked plenty worried at that revelation. Perhaps they had done more reading of the book than she had (which didn't take much since she had read the title and promptly gave up).

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," explained Professor Lupin. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks—I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the Headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice. So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a boggart?"

Hands went up, and Emile put up his, too. Lupin pointed to the Ravenclaw.

"It's a shape-shifter, Professor," explained Emile, with his typical reading from the textbook tone. "Boggart's take shape of whatever will scare us the most."

"Correct, Mr. ...?" prompted Professor Lupin.

"Emile Hawkins," the boy supplied.

"Five points to Ravenclaw," said Professor Lupin. "So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears."

Whispers broke out among the students. Nova glanced nervously around her classmates; bravery was not her strong suit. There was a reason she was in Hufflepuff and not in Gryffindor.

"This means," continued Professor Lupin, choosing to ignore the worried whispers of his students, "that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Do you know why, Nova?"

The girl sputtered, her eyes widening. "Um ... because there's a lot of us," she said hesitantly. "It shapeshifts to what we fear, like, as a person, not a group. With so many of us, it wouldn't know what shape to take."

"Exactly, Nova. Five points to Hufflepuff," said Professor Lupin. "It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become — a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a boggart make that very mistake—tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening." He chuckled quietly, adding, "It was actually quite amusing."

Nova frowned at the image that popped into her head. The image of a human corpse with the tiny head of a slug certainly wasn't amusing to her.

"The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please ... Riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!" the class chorused together.

"Good," said Professor Lupin, nodding. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. Now—I need a volunteer."

The wardrobe shook again, making any student who looked like they were going to offer back down. Nova could see Ernie whispering to Justin and Hannah, probably telling them to volunteer. Hannah only shook her head, but Ernie rolled his eyes and forced Justin's hand into the air.

Professor Lupin pointed to Justin's hand in the air. "Yes, Justin, if you could come to the front please."

Justin, rather red in the face, ripped his hand out of Justin's tight grip. He shuffled to the front, pulling at the yellow and black tie around his next. The wardrobe shook again, and he flinched.

"Right, Justin," said Lupin. "First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"

Justin glanced at the wardrobe. He opened his mouth for a moment, but then closed it. "I ... That's a loaded question, isn't it?" He stopped to consider his answer; "Snakes, I guess."

A small bout of laughter rippled through the class. Justin looked around sheepishly. "Not those snakes," he clarified.

"Snakes," Professor Lupin repeated. "Why?"

"I dunno." The boy shrugged. "They're just scary, professor. They slither and they hiss.”

Professor Lupin looked thoughtful. "Hm ... Justin, I heard that you are rather talented at Transfiguration."

Justin looked bashful at the praise. "I suppose I am ..."

Professor Lupin smiled. "What do you think would be the easiest thing to turn a snake into using Transfiguration?"

"Something around the same size, maybe the same color, too."

"What about a stuffed animal?" offered Lupin. "A fabric snake isn't as scary as a living snake."

Justin nodded. "Yeah, that would work."

"Now, can you picture the stuffed snake clearly, Justin?" asked Professor Lupin. "Can you see it in your mind's eye?"

"Yes," said Justin, a sliver of uncertainty in his voice.

"When the boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Justin, and sees you, it will assume the form of the dog that attacked you," said Lupin. Justin paled slightly at the idea of seeing the dog. "And you will raise your wand—thus—and cry 'Riddikulus'—and concentrate hard on the fabric snake. If all goes well, boggart-snake will be forced into a fabric one."

The wardrobe wobbled more violently. More of Nova’s classmates jumped.

"If Justin is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn," said Professor Lupin. "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical ..."

The room went quiet. Nova thought about what she was scared of; heights—

That same vision flashed across her eyes. She was getting really tired of that.

She really didn't like fires—

Nova could see a dark dog run across hills. Odd, she thought. It had never been that clear before.

She really hated clowns, but that wasn't the same thing as fear—

A dog's bark rang in her ears. Nova's eyes snapped open and she looked around instinctively. Many of her classmates had their eyes sealed shut tight. Emile had his eyebrows pinched together, muttering under his breath.

A shiver crawled up Nova's spine; the image of that dog didn't go away. She saw it snarling at her in the dark corner of the teacher’s lounge. That wasn't normal. Any time she had a vision or dream like that, it always went away when she opened her eyes. Nova even struggled to recall what the visions looked like when she wasn't dreaming. But now, she could still see that dog as clearly as day—snarling, yellow teeth, its matted black fur, and its eyes glowing dangerously red. That vision on the train hadn't given her that clear of an image of the dog, and part of her wondered if she was making it all up or if the visions were trying to warn her of something.

"Everyone ready?" said Professor Lupin.

Nova felt a lurch of fear. She wasn't ready. How could you make something like that less frightening? But she didn't want to ask for more time; everyone else was nodding and rolling up their sleeves, looking determined.

"Justin, we're going to back away," said Professor Lupin. "Let you have a clear field, all right? I'll call the next person forward ... Everyone back, now, so Justin can get a clear shot—"

They all retreated, backed against the walls, leaving Justin alone beside the wardrobe. He looked pale and frightened, but he had pushed up the sleeves of his robes and was holding his wand ready.

"On the count of three, Justin," said Professor Lupin, who was pointing his wand at the handle of the wardrobe. "One—two—three—now!"

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Lupin's wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. An oversized rattlesnake slithered out, its slit eyes flashing at Justin. Its forked tongue slid out of its mouth, tasting the air, and probably tasting the fear radiating off of every student.

"Holy sh*t ..." Emile muttered under his breath.

The snake stared at Justin, the end of it twitching to a dangerous beat. Nova could see Justin's Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he raised his wand.

"Riddi—" The boy swallowed, raising his wand higher. "Riddikulus!"

There was a noise like a whip crack. The rattlesnake shot back and hit the wardrobe, falling to the floor lifelessly. Smiles were shared around the room at the sight. The boggart shook off the stupor of the fabric snake, looking around for a new victim.

Professor Lupin shouted; "Padma! Forward!"

Padma, a Ravenclaw, hurried forward, her face set. The snake, despite being fabric now, rounded on her. There was another crack, and where the stuffed snack had been was a bundle of bloody needles. The needles tried to surround her—

"Riddikulus!" she cried.

The needles unraveled, looking like they changed to rubber, and fell over. The blood on the needles looked like the consistency of fruit punch and spilled across the floor. The needles moved around like worms; their middle arching before pushing downward; to get close to the girl.

The class roared with laughter at the sight. The boggart shivered, not liking being the butt end of the joke.

"Hannah!" roared Professor Lupin.

The Hufflepuff darted past Padma, a determined look on her face. Crack! Where the needles had been was a gigantic, hairy spider. Nova shuddered, avoiding looking at the spider's many eyes.

Hannah looked green in the face but she still raised her wand and said firmly, "Riddikulus!"

The spider stumbled, shivering as if it was in pain. With a satisfying pop, it changed into a butterfly, fluttering over to another student. Crack! The boggart changed into a zombie, which stumbled across the room slowly. Then—crack!—a vampire with bloody fangs, he hissed at the students—crack! A body-less head fell to the floor, it wailed loudly, cursing at them—

"It's confused!" shouted Lupin. "We're getting there! Emile!"

Emile hurried forward, holding onto his wand tightly.

Crack! A woman with floor-length black hair and a skeletal, green-tinged face—a banshee. She opened her mouth wide and an unearthly sound filled the room. The hairs on Nova's arms stood on end and she winced, clutching her ears.

"Riddikulus!" shouted Emile, standing strongly.

The banshee clutched her neck, making a rasping noise; her voice was gone. She shivered, holding her neck even tighter, as if to stop noise from escaping. Despite her efforts, the banshee started singing opera, a furious look on her face. Rounds of laughter passed the class and the boggart twitched, as if it wasn't liking not inciting fear.

"Excellent! Nova, you're next!"

The girl's eyes widened with alarm. Megan, who stood beside her, pushed her forward. The boggart locked on her and shivered. Crack! The banshee changed into a snarling, black dog. Nova flinched when it barked at her, the noise ringing across the room. She pulled out her wand, holding it out in front of her.

However, before she could do anything, the boggart shivered again—Crack! The shaggy black fur swirled together until it looked like a sphere of nighttime. She could see the vision from the train again, inside the sphere of darkness. Soon the darkness rippled and the scene inside changed; the darkness rippled like a pool of water and showed the full moon and dark figure floating menacingly. Again, it changed—a dusty room with shredded furniture.

"Nova!" Hannah shouted. "Say the incantation."

Her voice had gotten trapped in her throat. Her hands trembled. The same feeling from the train washed over her like a tidal wave. "Ri—Riddikulus!" she said loudly, hoping her voice hadn't wavered too much.

Crack! The sphere of darkness looked like it had been swallowed by nothing until the mirror image of herself appeared, the end of her wand alight with Lumos. Nova stepped back, looking away from her mirror. Her heart hammered in her chest and her hands were sweatier than ever. The her in the mirror had a bloody face, with small cuts with blood pooling out. She looked like she had been through hell.

Professor Lupin glanced at Nova once, then twice. "Uh—Justin! Finish it off!"

The Hufflepuff boy raced forward again. Crack! The rattlesnake was back, looking ready for vengeance for its humiliation. Before it could attack, Justin shouted, "Riddikulus!"

They had a split second's view of the snake to see it was now imitating a maraca with its tail before the class let out a roar of laughter. The boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.

"Excellent!" cried Professor Lupin as the class broke into applause. "Excellent, Justin. Well done, everyone ... Let me see ... five points for every person to tackle the boggart—ten for Justin because he did it twice ... and five each to Emile and Nova."

"Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on boggarts and summarize it for me ... to be handed in on Monday. That will be all."

Bags were gathered and the class was talking excitedly, leaving the staffroom. Nova, feeling almost sickly, grabbed her bag, and was one of the last students left to leave. However, before she could get through the door, Professor Lupin called, "Nova, may I talk with you?"

The black-haired girl paused, glancing at Hannah, Justin, and Ernie, who all shrugged in unison. The rest of the students left, leaving her alone with Professor Lupin. Nova held onto her bag tighter, shuffling over to the teacher.

"Yes, sir?" she said. "You want to ask about the boggart? Me too."

Lupin raised his eyebrows at her. "What made you think I was going to ask about your boggart?"

"Because of what I saw," said Nova, fighting the urge to say something rude. "In that darkness, I saw scenes, like—" She clamped her mouth shut. "Never mind."

"Nova, there was nothing in the darkness," admitted Lupin. He tilted his head at her, and she got the feeling he was trying to read her mind. "I was going to ask about the boggarts—the fact it took two forms with you."

"Oh." Nova shuffled her feet. "I dunno. Maybe it just figured I feared both equally."

Professor Lupin shook his head in disagreement. "That's not the nature of boggarts, Nova. It will always choose the form you fear the most—even if you don't realize that is what you fear." He looked at her again, peering carefully downward. "You said something about seeing something in the darkness."

Nova tried her hardest not to wince. "It was nothing," she said quickly. However, Lupin gave her a stern look. "Okay—maybe not," she admitted.

"Tell me what you saw," urged Professor Lupin.

"I saw ..." The girl swallowed. "A dog, like what the boggart turned into at first. I think Trelawney just freaked me out with the whole Grim thing. Um, then I saw the full moon—I think, at least—and figures floating." She stopped for a moment. "... Those figures looked like the dementors, actually."

(But there was no way Nova was telling anyone that Neville had “seen” the Grim in her teacup during Divinations. She knew how people would react. She didn't want to be treated like she was on her deathbed.)

The teacher straightened. "I see," he said tightly. "You are taking Divinations this year, am I correct?"

"Uh, yes," said Nova, looking at him oddly. "Why d'you ask?"

"If you see anything like those ... visions again, anything that looks similar to what you saw, I want you to talk to Professor Trelawney," said Lupin, leading her over to the staffroom door.

The sick feeling consumed Nova's stomach entirely, pulling and tugging at her gut like a petulant child. She had confided in her teacher and he had practically just called her a lunatic; Don't tell me anymore, Nova, is what he should’ve said. At least be honest about it;Go ahead and talk to resident crazy Seer, Professor Trelawney! I think you would get along great!

She held onto her bag so tightly that her hand shook slightly. Her nails dug into the palm of her hand. "Of course, Professor," she said, her voice holding an icy-cold tone to it. "Next time I see something, I'll tell her—for sure. We'll talk about what deranged things we can predict."

Before Professor Lupin could say another word, Nova hurried down the corridor, her head ducked low.

✴

To say Neville felt guilty would be an understatement. He felt blameable, stupid, idiotic, and everything similar. He hadn't meant to, it just slipped out of his mouth! It was after their first lesson with Professor Lupin, in the afternoon. The Gryffindors were leaving the staffroom, all talking excitedly about the lesson that had just finished.

As guilty as Neville felt now, that guilt was still struggling to squash the happiness he felt for facing the boggart not once, but twice. He had managed to face Snape not once, but twice. And not only that, but he had managed to find a way to find Snape not so terrifying. (The potions professor still scared him, don't get Neville wrong, but not nearly as much as before.)

"Did you see me take that banshee?" shouted Seamus.

"And the hand!" Dean added, waving his own around. The boy turned to Neville. "And Snape in that hat? Bloody brilliant!"

Neville tried to smile at them, chuckling lightly. He hung back, noticing Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Ron had faced the boggart, but neither Harry nor Hermione had. That fact seemed to be bothering Harry much more than it was bothering Hermione.

"That was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson we've ever had, wasn't it?" said Ron excitedly.

"He seems like a good teacher," said Hermione approvingly. "But I wish I could have had a turn with the boggart—"

"What would have it been for you?" Ron asked, snickering. "A piece of homework that you only got a nine out of ten?"

Hermione opened her mouth to fire back a response but Neville beat her; "Harry," he spoke up. "Can we talk?"

The three looked at him. Neville felt the willingness to tell Harry slowly dwindling away.

"Yeah, sure." Harry nodded. "What's up?"

Neville glanced between the two. "I saw a Grim in Nova's cup, too," he said quickly.

Ron's eyes widened. He went pale. "What?"

"Oh—" Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not the Grim thing, again!"

Harry stayed silent. He stared at Neville, as if trying to decide whether Neville was lying or not. He frowned, glancing at Ron and Hermione as if to silently say I told you so.

"Are you sure you saw the Grim?" asked Harry.

Neville nodded. "And I heard her talking about her lesson with Lupin with Ernie. The boggart turned into a black dog for her."

Ron had paled even more. "Merlin, Neville ... She saw the Grim as her boggart?"

Neville nodded again. "She said she talked to Lupin about it and he told her to go to Trelawney."

"How do you know?" asked Harry.

The blond blushed. "I'm not supposed to know," he admitted. "They didn't realize I could hear them. And—and Nova asked me not to say anything about the Grim in her cup but I feel like you should know since ..." He waved his hand, trailing off.

"Er—thanks, Neville," Harry said, shouldering his bag.

Neville looked between Harry, Ron, and Hermione nervously. "You can't tell Nova that I told you guys, okay? She told me not to tell anyone."

Hermione grounded her teeth. She looked annoyed at the topic. "We won't," she promised through her gritted teeth. "Thanks, Neville."

The plump boy hurried away, toward his next class. When they couldn't see him anymore, Ron rounded on Hermione.

"See?" he said loudly. "What can you make of that? Have any other excuse?"

Hermione flushed angrily. "She and Neville are only freaked out because of Trelawney," she huffed. "You know how easy Neville is to scare."

"What about Nova, huh?" Ron demanded. "She fainted on the train!"

"Ernie said she hit her head," dismissed Hermione, shaking her own. "I've told you that before."

"She talked about the Grim in Divinations," Ron tried once again.

"She said the Grim was 'just a dog'. Even she didn't seem to believe Trelawney too much." Hermione rolled her eyes. "If that's your best evidence, just give up Ron now."

"You guys notice how Nova always sort of … ignored me?" Harry spoke up.

Hermione and Ron looked at him. "What?" asked the girl.

"She always looked at me like I did something to her. She avoids me," Harry added. "I've never really talked to her. Maybe ..." he trailed off. Harry didn't know what he was going to suggest. Frankly, he really didn't know what was going on. Or how Nova tied into it all, but he knew she did somehow.

"What are you getting at?" Hermione asked, putting a hand on her hip.

"I don't know," admitted Harry. "But she knows something—about the Grim or something—even if she doesn't know it. She's involved somehow."

Chapter 7: iv. Hogsmeade (Or Lack Thereof)

Chapter Text

starlit supernova
❛ iv. hogsmeade❜

━━━━━ NOVA NEVER THOUGHT of herself as an irritable person, but things were swiftly changing her mindset. Things only kept going downhill, and nothing seemed to be going her way.

Now, being irritable wasn’t a Hufflepuff trait, but it technically wasn’t any trait for the four Houses. Besides, there were plenty of irritable Slytherins roaming the halls, infecting others with their horrible energies. Her third year was off to a great start—little to no leads when it came to her birth mother, and this dog that was an omen of death kept stalking her. (Really, a good start.) And the one lead she might have regarding her mother seemed to be completely bogus. It shouldn’t have been as shocking as it was, but it still left a nasty taste in her mouth.

It was also proving impossible to meet with the Headmaster Dumbledore. Which Nova expected, but again, that was just another nasty taste she had to swallow down.

“Please, Professor Sprouts,” Nova pleaded after the end of her Herbology lesson.

“I’m sorry, Miss Holloway.” The Herbology professor shook her head. “Unless you have an appropriate reason to meet with the Headmaster, I can’t give you the password.”

“But I do!” insisted the Hufflepuff.

Professor Sprouts placed her hands on her hips. “And what would that reason be?”

Nova paused. “Er … it’s sort of a private matter, Professor.”

Sprouts shook her head as she pursed her lips. “Then I’m sorry, Miss Holloway,” she repeated. “I can’t give you the password.”

She watched her Head of House bustle around the greenhouse with a sour expression. Professor Sprouts was cleaning up for the next class, perhaps for some first years. She debated whether or not to tell Professor Sprouts the truth, wondering if the professor would take pity. Maybe she should cry, that was always a good way to get pity.

"Professor Sprouts," she spoke up. "I want to talk to Dumbledore because of this letter from my birth mother."

The Herbology teacher stopped, holding onto four clay pots. "Birth mother?" she asked.

"Yes." The black-haired girl nodded. She looked away, hoping her expression looked as hopeless as she felt. "It's the only thing I have from her and I think Dumbledore may know something."

"But ..." Professor Sprouts trailed off. She looked at Nova closer. "I thought you had ..."

Nova leaned against a dirty table. "I was adopted, Professor," she said glumly. Her shoulders were slumped. "And my birth mum said I would receive that letter on my eleventh birthday, the day I would receive my letter from Hogwarts. The reason I want to talk to Dumbledore is because ..." She trailed off, frowning. "I think he kept the letter for those eleven years. He may know who my real mum is."

The professor picked up another muddy clay pot and tucked it in the fold of her arm. She looked at the student cloaked in a yellow and black scarf. "I will have to talk to the headmaster, Miss Holloway. He's a busy man."

Nova tried her best not to smile. "As long as you try, Professor. That’s what matters to me.”

At least she had gotten somewhere with that. Now she was tasked with surviving her classes. And as it was, that task wasn't going too well. Defense Against the Dark Arts was going well, but Nova still tried to avoid Professor Lupin to the best of her ability. She didn't want him asking any questions that pertained to her boggart.

Compared to previous years, Defense Against the Dark Arts was exciting. After boggarts, they 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 they moved on to kappas, creepy, water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.

But Nova wished her other classes were going as well. The worst was Divination (although it barely surpassed Potions for The Worst Class of All Time). She dreaded spending time in Professor Trelawney's stifling tower room, deciphering lopsided shapes and symbols, trying to ignore the way Professor Trelawney hovered around the girl the way a predator hovered around its prey. She also dreaded how Neville looked at the girl like she was a bad omen, flinching every time she moved even slightly in his direction. Nova couldn't like Professor Trelawney (not that she honestly tried), even though the teacher 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 the others didn't.

At a close second for The Worst Class of All Time, Potions was as horrible as the previous two years. Professor Snape was in a particularly vindictive mood these days, and no one knows without any doubt as to 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. The Potions professor didn't seem to find it funny; his eyes flashed menacingly at the very mention of Professor Lupin's name.

Nobody really liked Care of Magical Creatures either. The class soon turned into a letdown after its action-packed first class. It had become extremely dull after that. Nova glared at Draco Malfoy every time they were making the trek down to Hagrid's hut, muttering things about rich kids and their sh*tty attitudes. The professor seemed to have lost his confidence. The students 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 I want to take care of this?" Nova said, poking at the flobberworm with the stem of a piece of lettuce.

"Aren't you supposed to love this class?" asked Justin.

The black-haired looked over her shoulder, glaring at Draco Malfoy. "I would if Malfoy wasn't such a bitch."

✴

It was October 31st before anything interesting happened within Hogwarts' stone walls. A couple of days before, a paper was pinned to the battered bulletin board in the Hufflepuff common room. It was giving the dates for the first Hogsmeade weekend.

Nova was excited to go until Professor Sprouts pulled her aside as they were getting ready to leave for Hogsmeade to give her some news; "The headmaster said he could see you this afternoon," she said.

"Er—what?" said Nova.

"I suggest you stay here for the day so you don't miss it," advised Professor Sprouts. "You still want to talk to Headmaster Dumbledore, don't you?"

Nova had forgotten about asking Sprout to speak to Hogswart's headmaster since it had been so long since she had asked. "Uh, yeah!" she agreed, nodding. "Of course I do. What time can I go talk to him?"

"After lunch today," said Sprouts. "Go to the kitchen and talk to the house elves if you want to speak to Dumbledore earlier. I've written down how to get into his office and the password. Don't lose the paper. And don’t give it to anybody."

It was morning, leaving Nova with some hours to waste until she could talk to Dumbledore. She hadn't been nervous—hadn't even thought about being nervous until now—but now she was. Maybe the headmaster would just look at her and the yellowing paper and laugh her out of his office. That would just about suck. She already had growing disapproving feelings for the Headmaster (she was just sour about the possibility of Dumbledore having kept the letter for all those years and kept Nova in the dark all those years).

With hours left until she had the chance to talk to the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Nova figured now would be the best time to send her parents a letter. Of course, she would leave out the details of dementors, those dreams (the recurring one of Harry Potter and the new ones of the black, shaggy dog—or was that the Grim?—and the full moon), the boggart turning into the Grim, the visions she saw in the swirling darkness, and the stuff Professor Trelawney was—

Nova wondered if there was even a point to send a letter if she had to keep so much out. But she knew if she went a week of silence from Lee and Gail, they would learn how to send a Howler, despite having no magical capabilities, and send fifteen in a row, all yelling and screaming about the promises of weekly letters.

The Hufflepuff climbed a flight of stairs, crossing steps two at a time. She hurried for the Owlery, folding a white paper into threes and stuffing them inside an envelope. She took the pen she had smuggled onto Hogwarts grounds (sue her, okay? Writing with quills was horrendous) and wrote out her name and then her parents' names on the envelope.

Lyrid seemed happy to see her, twittering excitedly. He nipped at her fingers as Nova tied the letter around his leg.

"Give this to my parents, okay?" she said.

The owl clicked his beak and took off into the air. Nova left the Owlery quickly, seeking warmth from further inside the castle. As she was hurrying back down the corridor, heading for the Hufflepuff common room, she spotted a scrawny figure going in the opposite direction. She found it odd, she figured every student third year and above had gone to Hogsmeade.

Unknowingly, Nova slowed her pace considerably, trying to see who she was about to pass. The person looked up, noticing the slowing sounds of her footfall. Nova tried not to show her shock, but she wasn't sure how well she hid it behind a poker face.

Standing in front of her was the green-eyed boy, Harry Potter.

"Hey," she greeted lamely. And with a strained smile, she tried to pass him.

"Nova, right?" he asked, grabbing her arm. "You sit with Neville in Trewlaney's class?"

Nova tried not to roll her eyes. "Don't bring up Divinations," she groaned. "That class is horrible."

He grinned at her. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks that. Lavender and Parvati seem to love her. I don't understand why, if I'm honest."

The black-haired girl shrugged, shaking off his hold. "Maybe they really have those Seer abilities Trelawney's always moaning about. I think she's just off her rocker, personally. I mean—the Grim thing?" She rolled her eyes, but Harry's smile turned sour, as if Nova had mentioned something he had forgotten about.

"Yeah ..." he said, glancing down the deserted corridor. "Look—"

Before he could say anything further, a voice came from inside one of the rooms some doors down; "Harry? Nova?"

The two looked down the left side, spotting Professor Lupin looking around his office door. "What are you two doing?" he asked the two. "Where are your friends?"

Harry's eyebrows knitted and his expression soured even worse. "They're all at Hogsmeade," he said in what Nova assumed was his best I'm trying to be casual but I'm incredibly annoyed voice.

"Ah," said the professor. He considered the two students for a moment. "Why don't you come in? I've just taken delivery of a grindylow for our next lesson."

"A grindylow? What's that?" asked Nova

She and Harry followed Professor Lupin into his office. In the corner stood a very large tank of water. A sickly green creature with sharp little horns had its face pressed against the glass, pulling faces and flexing its long, spindly fingers.

"Water demon," said Lupin, surveying the grindylow thoughtfully. "We shouldn't have much difficulty with him, not after the kappas. The trick is to break his grip. Do you notice the abnormally long fingers? Strong, but very brittle."

The grindylow bared its green teeth and then buried itself in a tangle of weeds in a corner.

"So—what?" said Nova, shrugging. "You take a hammer to its fingers and it's done for?"

Lupin peered at her, as if curious by her choice of wording. "I guess so, Nova. I guess if you 'take a hammer' the grindylow would be—like you said—‘done for’. Cup of tea?" he asked, changing the topic and looking for his kettle. "I was just thinking of making one."

"All right," said Harry awkwardly, trying to exchange a look with the Hufflepuff beside him. Despite being shoulder-to-shoulder with him, Nova refused to look his way.

Lupin tapped the kettle with his wand and a blast of steam issued suddenly from the spout. "Sit down," he said, taking the lid off a dusty tin. "I've only got teabags, I'm afraid—but I daresay you've had enough of tea leaves? Both of you?"

Nova stopped, mid-way into sitting in the chair in front of Lupin's desk. She stared at him like a deer caught in headlights. Lupin's eyes were twinkling. "How did you know about that?" she demanded.

"Professor McGonagall told me," said Lupin, passing Harry and Nova chipped mugs of tea. "Professor McGonagall relayed to me the story of Professor Treawlney seeing a Grim in Harry's cup?" He looked to the Gryffindor. "You're not worried, are you?"

Harry shifted in his seat. He glanced at Nova again; she took a long drink from the cup. "No," he answered. "I'm not worried."

Nova swirled the drink around her cup. "Something just tells me Trelawney's full of it," she said, her voice scathing. Even she seemed shocked by her own words, nearly clamping her hand over her mouth. "That came out wrong. I mean—she just seems to say what's going to get the most reactions, not that ... I'm not saying she can't really See or anything, just that—Nevermind."

She slumped in her seat, an embarrassed look crossing her face. Lupin seemed to pick up on something else, however, as he asked; "Are you worried, Nova?"

"No," she said quickly. She drank a bit of tea and watched the grindylow brandishing a fist at her. Part of Nova was tempted to retaliate by giving him the middle finger.

"You know that day we fought the boggart?" Harry asked suddenly, placing his cup on Lupin's desk.

"Yes," said the professor slowly.

"Why didn't you let me fight it?" said Harry abruptly.

Lupin raised his eyebrows. "I would have thought that was obvious, Harry," he said, sounding surprised.

"Why?" Harry asked, looking surprised.

"Well," said Lupin, frowning slightly, "I assumed that if the boggart faced you, it would assume the shape of Lord Voldemort."

Nova stared. One; that answer also seemed obvious to her. You-Know-Who was many, many people's greatest fear. If anyone had to be scared of him the most, it certainly had to be Harry Potter. Two; the fact that Lupin had said You-Know-Who's real name, and not, well, You-Know-Who. People didn't like calling him Voldemort.

"Clearly, I was wrong," said Lupin, still frowning at Harry. "But I didn't think it a good idea for Lord Voldemort to materialize in the staffroom. I imagined that people would panic."

"I didn't think of Voldemort," said Harry honestly. "I—I remembered those dementors."

"I see," said Lupin thoughtfully. "Well, well ... I'm impressed." He smiled slightly at the look of surprise on Harry's face. "That suggests that what you fear most of all is—fear. Very wise, Harry."

Nova didn't know what to think. She figured fearing dementors made sense considering they almost tried to suck out Harry's soul and all. Maybe she should've feared them as much as she feared whatever she saw with that boggart. She wondered why she feared those visions so much so that she saw them with the boggart; she hadn't even known about them before.

"So you've been thinking that I didn't believe you capable of fighting the boggart?" said Lupin shrewdly.

"Well ... yeah," said Harry. He suddenly looked a lot less tense. "Professor Lupin, you know the dementors—"

He was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Come in," called Lupin.

The door opened, and in came Snape. He was carrying a goblet, which was smoking faintly, and stopped at the sight of Harry and Nova, his black eyes narrowing.

"Ah, Severus," said Lupin, smiling. "Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?"

Snape set down the smoking goblet, his eyes wandering between Nova, Harry, and Lupin.

"I was just showing Harry and Nova my grindylow," said Lupin pleasantly, pointing at the tank.

"Fascinating," drawled Snape, without looking at it. "You should drink that directly, Lupin."

"Yes, Yes, I will," said Lupin.

"I made an entire cauldronful," Snape continued. "If you need more ..."

"I should probably take some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Severus."

"Not at all," said Snape, but there was a look in his eye that Nova didn't like. He backed out of the room, unsmiling and watchful.

Nova looked curiously at the goblet. Lupin smiled at her. "Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me," he said. "I have never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex." He picked up the goblet and sniffed it. "Pity sugar makes it useless," he added, taking a sip and shuddering.

Nova's brows furrowed. She leaned forward in her seat. "What—"

Lupin looked at her and answered the unfinished question. "I've been feeling a bit off-color," he said. "This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren't many wizards who are up to making it."

Professor Lupin took another sip and Nova's curiousness started eating away at her stomach. Lupin hadn't answered her question at all.

"Professor Snape's very interested in the Dark Arts," Harry blurted out, looking green as he stared at the goblet.

"Really?" said Lupin, looking only mildly interested as he took another gulp of potion.

"Some people reckon—" Harry hesitated, then plunged recklessly on, "some people reckon he'd do anything to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts job."

Lupin drained the goblet and pulled a face. "Disgusting," he shuddered. "Well, Harry, Nova, I'd better get back to work. See you at the feast later."

"Right," said Harry, putting down his empty teacup.

Nova finished her cup, staring at the goblet as she stood up. A million questions were running through her mind, but if she was going to have any time to ask them, she would need all the time in the world.

✴

She felt queasy. Really queasy. So queasy she feared that she would puke all over Dumbledore's feet by the time she made it up the winding staircase to his office.

Nova's hands trembled as she made the trek up the spiraling staircase. She was going over, word for word, what she wanted to say to the headmaster. She unfolded the yellowing paper in her hands, reading over the first few words. She knew them by heart now, but Nova couldn't help herself. She had gotten so nervous she was making sure she had grabbed the right letter (how many yellowing, thirteen-year-old letters could she just have lying around); or that the words hadn't magically changed on her (her mother was a witch, yes, but surely if she had put any spells on the paper, they would've shown up by now).

She looked around when she climbed the last of the steps. The office was a large, circular room with many windows and portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses. The portrait she noticed first was directly behind Dumbledore's desk. She had no idea who was inside the portrait as they were currently gone to who knows where, but Nova figured they were probably just as old and wrinkly as Dumbledore. The office also played host to several spindly tables upon which were set delicate-looking silver instruments that whirred and emitted small puffs of smoke, as well as an incredible collection of books, maybe Dumbledore's private library.

When Nova noticed Dumbledore sitting behind his desk, a rather, large shabby-looking book open in front of him, she paused. "Er—" She cleared her throat. "Hello, Headmaster Dumbledore."

Despite her sour feelings for the man at the possibility of him keeping her in the dark for so long, she couldn't bring herself to lash out now that she was in front of him. Again, bravery was not her specialty.

Headmaster Dumbledore looked up from his pages. His blue eyes twinkled as he spotted her. "Ah, Miss Holloway," he greeted warmly, motioning to the plump seat in front of his oak desk. "Professor Sprouts told me you needed to speak with me."

Nova sank into the chair, trying her best not to slouch. She laid the yellow paper in front of her. She watched his expression, looking for any sign of remembrance; however, Dumbledore's expression remained passive. Her chest tightened.

"I do," she said, opening the letter. "I mean, I do need to talk with you. I, um, I was given a letter on my eleventh birthday by Professor McGonagall. I was raised by Muggle people and all, and you send out your professors to Muggle-born students to tell them. Professor McGonagall came and explained everything to me—" She stopped and took a deep breath. "The day I turned eleven, Professor McGonagall came and explained everything, but she also gave me a letter from my birth mum. I thought she might've known my mum, but she said she didn't. McGonagall said she was given this letter the morning before she arrived at my parents' house, and I thought ... Well, just read it."

She slid the letter over, turning it around so Dumbledore would be able to read the handwriting. Nova watched as his eyes slid down the page, looking for any sort of reaction. Her hope dwindled little by little as his expression didn't change, even by the slightest.

When he was done reading it, he spoke; "Why do you feel you had to speak with me?"

Nova tried not to sink into her seat. A feeling much worse than embarrassment was settling in her stomach. "With the way Professor McGonagall worded it to me, I thought she meant you gave her the letter. I was hoping you knew who my mum was."

Dumbledore looked at her from over the rim of his half-moon spectacles. By his expression, Nova knew she wasn't going to get an answer she liked.

"I don't, I'm afraid," he answered. "I was given that letter in confidence. Yes, I was the one who gave Professor McGonagall the letter—”

She sat up in her seat. “Then—”

“But I don’t know the name of the woman who wrote it,” he continued, raising his hand to stop her. “I'm sorry, Miss Holloway. I don't know who your biological mother is. I'm sorry."

Chapter 8: v. Dementors and Dreams

Chapter Text

starlit supernova
❛ v. dementors and dreams ❜

━━━━━ IT WAS QUITE possible that Nova was having the worst week of her life. And it all started with that f*cking letter and Headmaster Dumbledore.

Nova always held some unspoken hatred towards it; an unspoken animosity that would only appear between life-long friends split apart by unfortunate circ*mstances—people who had once been friends, but turned adversaries. And she understood why, she knew exactly why. It consumed her thoughts too much to be healthy. It led her on a wild goose chase. Because of it, she ran into dead end after dead end.

And the strain of her relationships—every important relationship in her life. Every sad look her parents gave her, every silent eye roll her friends shared as she started on again about the letter, every heavy sigh that was filled with annoyance. All of that led back to the yellowing paper given to Nova on her eleventh birthday.

She knew they were sick of it, and so was she. But Nova couldn't just ... She had always wondered why her mother would give her up. To Nova, it sounded like her biological mother did, truly wanted her. They always said a mother's love was one of the strongest things in the world, so why would her mother just give her up?

And that's not even the end of it; Sirius Black was showing his ugly face.

Close to the beginning of the year, at the dinner after their first lesson with Hagrid, Nova's friends had told her about some stuff the Daily Prophet was reporting. Stuff about Sirius Black having escaped Azakabn, something that was supposed to be impossible to do. She chalked it up to just Daily Prophet bullsh*t—they weren't very reliable, you know.

Let's just say that Nova had been wrong to chalk up the accusations of Sirius Black escaping. Very wrong.

It was the night after the Halloween Feast. A measly two hours after the feast had ended, to be exact. The Hufflepuff common room was alight and warm with the buzz of students, but then their head of House—Professor Sprouts—barged in and told them to collect themselves and their wands, and to follow their prefects to the Great Hall. The Head of House made sure to instill fear in them so no overly curious students would go wandering the halls, looking for anything to try and connect the pieces as to what was happening.

Not that any students (see in:Nova Holloway) would have to go looking very far. When all the Hufflepuffs filed into the Great Hall with the Slytherins from the Hogwarts' dungeons, the Great Hall was already buzzing.

News spread fast in Hogwarts—Sirius Black, the resident mass murderer, had escaped Azakban. And he had shown his very gaunt face inside the walls of Hogwarts, looking for Harry Potter.

And Harry Potter wasn't the only person with eyes on him. People were watching Nova.

Weirdly enough, this was bothering her more than she expected it to. Nova had never been exactly bothered by having attention on her—if she wanted it, that is. And she did not want a particular set of three eyes on her. They brought bad news wherever they went.

It was Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley. She wasn't sure when it had first started, only having first noticed the night of Sirius Black's attack, after she had woken up from another nightmare (another sighting of the Grim, her mother’s shadowy face whispering Caroline and something about trusting the only family you have. Fun stuff.) Then she spotted it everywhere the three Gryffindors were. It was driving her mad. It was like three drills being pushed into her back. Some particularly pointed quills impaled her with every blink they took.

She thought she might have been going crazy. She never had solid proof of their stares and whispers. Every time she tried to find out, by looking over her shoulder, walking past the Gryffindor table to “talk” to Neville, whatever else she could come up with, the three would stop immediately, turning their heads in the opposite direction of the Hufflepuff.

And sure, the stares bothered Nova, but the nightmares bothered her so much worse.

Nova had always had dreams. Everyone had dreams, sure, but her's were ... different. She dreamed of Harry Potter, You-Know-Who, people cloaked in black, flashes of green, and the sound of things heavy hitting floors. She dreamt of her biological parents, her biological mother whispering Caroline, and windy family trees that go back hundreds and hundreds of years. When she was young, before Professor McGonagall had shown up on the Holloways’ front porch, she would tell her parents about her dreams. Unsurprisingly, they chalked it up to childhood imagination.

It wasn't shocking, but it was hurtful. Her parents, the people who had adopted her, raised her and turned her into who she was today, didn't believe her. That was her first taste of betrayal; realizing she wasn't normal. She never spoke about dreams now for this reason. If her own parents didn't believe her, why would anyone else?

The problem was, the nightmares were getting more frequent. She was blurring the line between real life and her nightmarish dreams. From her peripheral, she thought she might've seen a gigantic black dog stalking her in the shadows, teeth bared to snap at her whenever she was unprepared. She thought she would hear people whisper Caroline in her ears, even though the only people who knew her birth name wasn’t Nova were people who would never do something like that to her.

Nova always had nightmares, but that nightmare was rearing its ugly head on a nearly nightly basis. It was the nightmare she had seen on the train; when the dementor had floated inside her compartment. Not only was it becoming a nearly nightly thing, but she was seeing the dog—the Grim?—in the shadows. She could hear it bark at her, the sound ringing throughout the classrooms.

Nova was never a good actor, and she sure as hell didn't have a good poker face. Her friends were starting to notice she would flinch at random times, whipping her head around to look at the dark corners of the room. But she couldn't tell them about it. They would never believe her.

✴

It wasn't purposeful, but Nova had started arriving at Defense Against the Dark Arts at the last minute. After that conversation with Professor Lupin about her boggart, Nova didn't want to talk to him. She didn't want him to ask any questions—mainly because she didn't have answers, but she also didn't want to talk about it. Talking about what happened made it real.

Nova was the last person to duck inside the classroom, right as the bell rang above her head. The door closed behind her and she hurried down to her seat in the front. As she slid into her seat beside Emile, he nudged her in the rib.

"What?" Nova looked at him.

The Ravenclaw nodded to the front of the room, where Professor Lupin's desk was. She looked ahead, and her jaw dropped. "Professor Snape?" she asked, louder than she meant to be. She hadn't noticed it, hurrying inside, but the classroom had been eerily silent. That wasn't normal for the class; it was normally filled with excited chatter about whatever lesson was for the day.

Emile cringed at her volume as the greasy-haired professor looked up from the book in front of him. Nova shrunk in her skin, sliding down in her seat.

"Yes, Miss Holloway?" came the monotonous voice of the potions teacher. "What do you want?"

"I—uh—" She glanced at the boy beside her, who only shrugged. "Where's Professor Lupin? Is he okay?"

"He's fine. It's nothing life-threatening." Although Professor Snape said it as if that was a disappointment.

"Is he sick?" asked Nova, her mind jumping back to the conversation with Harry and Lupin, where Professor Snape had brought the teacher a potion. She paled slightly. She had just thought Harry was being paranoid, his hatred of Snape taking over, but maybe the Gryffindor was right.

Professor Snape stood up, giving her a cold look. "I believe that is Lupin's business," he said. "I don't think he would want his students to know all of his business, do you?"

Nova pursed her lips, glaring at the head of Slytherin House. Snape took her silence as an answer and moved to stand in front of Lupin's desk. The students watched him carefully as he prowled the room. Some flinched as he closed the curtains inside with a wave of his wand.

"As you can see, Professor Lupin is not here today," he spoke, breaking the silence. "And as Miss Holloway so carelessly asked, he is not feeling too well. He said he feels too ill to teach today. To ... protect his privacy, I will not say anymore. Now, onto the lesson; Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far—"

"We've covered boggarts, Red Caps, kappas, and grindylows," Emile spoke up, putting his hand into the air.

"Quiet, Mr. Hawkins," Snape said coldly. "I did not ask for information. I know for Ravenclaws it's hard to not continuously comment when no one asked. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organization."

Nova frowned, opening her mouth to say something, but the professor beat her to the punch, "Do you have anything to say, Miss Holloway? Your commentating is no better than Mr. Hawkins."

Ernie scowled from a couple of seats back. "She hadn't even said anything yet, Snape," he hissed. "Just because you have a stick shoved up—"

"Professor Snape," Justin spoke up hastily, eyeing Ernie nervously, "they're just trying to—"

"Oh, and I suppose you're Mr. Hawkins and Miss Holloway's liaison, are you?" Professor Snape said. His face was curled with anger. "I didn't ask for them to speak. I would suggest they learn how to hold their tongues next time. Although, I expect nothing less; easily satisfied with Lupin's lessons. Even first-years would be able to pass this class with the stuff he is teaching you. No, something more taxing is due. Today, we shall discuss—"

Nova watched him grab the book from the desk and flip all the way to the back, where he must've known they hadn't covered.

"Werewolves," announced Snape.

"But, sir," Padma Patil spoke, an expression of confusion written across her face, "we can't talk about werewolves yet. Professor Lupin is going in order based on the book; we're supposed to talk about hinkypunks—"

"Five points from Ravenclaw," Professor Snape cut her off, looking coldly in her direction; Padma's mouth clamped shut at his words. "Are you teaching this lesson, or am I? I will not be spoken to like this. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394."

When the students stayed frozen, staring at him, he barked, "All of you! Now!"

With many bitter sidelong looks and some sullen muttering, the class opened their books.

"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" said Snape.

Everyone sat in motionless silence.

"Anyone?" Snape said, a twisted smile on his face. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between—"

"We told you," said Ernie hotly, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on—"

"Silence!" snarled Snape. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are ..."

He took a long look around the room. Many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were sliding down in their seats, trying their best to make themselves invisible to the cruel professor. Professor Snape's eyes locked on Ernie and Justin, and he pointed at the latter.

"Since you felt the need to speak earlier, surely you know the answer, Mr. Finch," said Snape. "Perhaps you know the difference between a werewolf and a true wolf?"

Justin mouthed wordlessly for a second. He looked shaken being put on the spot. "Um—I think ..." He trailed off. "Something to do with their snouts, and—"

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Do you or do you not know the differences? I didn't ask for any answer to begin with 'I think'."

Justin shrank back, blushing to the root of his hair. "I—I don't know, then, sir."

"I can't believe it," Snape said with a mocking tone. "I know school isn't your strong suit, but—"

"What the hell?" Nova said angrily. "You groan about being disrespected, but you're the most disrespectful person I've ever met! Just because you're miserable with your sh*tty life, doesn't mean you have to go around being the biggest ass—"

"I suggest you don't finish your sentence, Miss Holloway," Professor Snape advised with a sneer. "And five points from Hufflepuff for foul language. Now, as I was—"

"You really can't expect us to know the differences," Emile spoke up suddenly. "The chapter over werewolves is in the back, we're at the front. Even I haven't read that far ahead, and if I had, that doesn't mean I would be able to rattle off that kind of information. Professor Lupin has us going at a pace that suits our class, if you can't accept that, you shouldn't be filling in for him."

Professor Snape's eyes were cold as he glared down at Emile. "Ten points from Ravenclaw. And detention, Hawkins. If I hear anyone criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."

No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. They sat and made notes on werewolves from the textbook, while Snape prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work they had been doing with Professor Lupin.

"Very poorly explained ... That is incorrect, the kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia ... Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn't have given it three ..."

When the bell rang, at last, Snape held them back. "You will each write an essay, to be handed into me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand. Mr. Hawkins, stay behind, we need to arrange your detention."

✴

The raging storm outside never once dampened the Hufflepuffs' spirits. It was quite hard to do as the typically warm and joyful common room had a bleak and grey feeling to it. The rain droplets sounded like hail hitting glass; the rolling thunderclouds sounded like Zeus had his toga in a particularly tight twist; the flashes of light looked like beacons of light were falling to the ground.

Safe to say, there was one hell of a storm outside the Hufflepuff common room. But that wouldn't stop Quidditch. That never stopped Quidditch. Nothing ever stopped Quidditch.

If it hadn't been a Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor game, Nova wouldn't have been going. But, alas, House pride and all. Also, Cedric Diggory had been talking about it for weeks—curse Nova for needing a tutor for Transfiguration. He seemed so nervous about the game, and Nova figured he needed all the Hufflepuff support he could get.

Now, don't assume Nova hated Quidditch; she just wasn't one to play the sport (or any sport, really). But if she was honest, the only part she loved was the thrill of the game. The tenseness of wondering how would win. Maybe if she didn't hate flying on brooms so much, she might've tried out for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.

Nova adjusted the yellow headband in her hair, squeezing next to Ernie. He glanced at her, grinning slightly. "You want that Warming Charm?"

She glared at him from under the black umbrella he had brought. "No."

The rain pelted down harder than ever. Nova pulled her yellow jacket around her tighter, squinting through the Quidditch field. Vaguely, she could see seven scarlet figures staggering sideways as they walked out onto the field; and seven more figures cloaked in canary-yellow robes doing the same. The sea of yellow around her cheered even louder as the Hufflepuff team stumbled closer through the raging winds.

The two teams met in the middle of the field; Cedric Diggory and Oliver Wood, the captains for the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor teams respectively, shook hands. Nova saw Cedric smile at Wood, but Wood looked as if he had lockjaw and merely nodded.

Madam Hooch yelled to the two teams, and they soon parted ways, mounting their brooms. The wind was so loud that Nova wasn't even able to hear Lee Jordan commentating, and it wasn't like that boy was quiet.

Five minutes in, and nothing exciting had happened yet. Pretty unusually for Quidditch—or maybe that was because the Slytherins weren’t playing; those on their team liked to play dirty. Vaguely, Nova noticed the sky getting dark, as though night had decided to come early. And then the first flash of lightning hit and Madam Hooch's whistle resounded throughout the field.

Nova tucked her hands inside her jacket, looking for any kind of warmth. "What's the score?" she yelled over the wind.

"Gryffindor's ahead by fifty!" Ernie yelled back. "Which is totally stupid. One of the Weasleys nearly knocked Kay Formby over the head!"

"I think that was an accident, Ernie," admitted Justin.

"Oo! Oo!" Hannah shouted out, pointing wildly out to the field. "They're coming back!"

And the fourteen players were soon back into the air. Nova's eyes wildly followed the players around. She couldn't tell what was happening through the sheets of rain pouring down. Maybe she saw Harry dodging a Bludger; Cedric striking through the air in the opposite direction of Harry.

And then there was another clap of thunder, followed immediately by forked lightning. Nova flinched at the sound, glancing nervously at the sky. Then there was a second flash of lightning, illuminating everything around her. Nova gasped, spotting something that chilled her more than the icy rain ever could; the silhouette of an enormous shaggy black dog, clearly imprinted against the sky, motionless in the topmost, empty row of seats.

Ernie looked over. "Nova?" he asked.

Before he could respond, the crowd roared as one. People were yelling "Snitch!" and Nova looked over to the players to see Cedric and Harry streaking toward the area in the sky. Maybe they had seen the Snitch. Nova couldn't help but let her eyes travel back over to the area where she had seen the shaggy black dog, but no sight of it through the rain.

The crowd of students watched the two Seekers. Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors kept yelling for their housemates alike. But something odd was happening. An eerie silence was falling across the stadium. The wind, though as strong as ever, was forgetting to roar. It was as though someone had turned off the sound, as though Nova had gone suddenly deaf—What was going on?

And then a horribly familiar wave of cold swept over her. That same cold feeling from the train. The cold seeped into her skin and her DNA. Nova looked around wildly, and she spotted something moving on the field below.

" At least a hundred dementors, their hidden faces pointing up at him, were standing beneath the players. It was as though freezing water were rising in her chest, cutting at her insides. And then she heard something ... Someone was screaming, screaming inside Nova's head—a woman. A woman who sounded familiar:

"Leave me alone! I know nothing!"

"Traitor! A traitor to your kind!"

"Traitor to who? People who would throw me away when I offer nothing anymore? I did what was best for me—for her—"

"For who?"

It was so, so cold. Nova clutched her ears, silently begging for the voices to go away. People were grabbing her by the arms, shaking her.

"You said it yourself," the woman snarled. "A bad lot. Why even bother anymore?"

"You are from that bad lot! Now—he wants to know; he said you would know!"

"I don't know what you're talking about." The woman's voice was shaking; she was terrified.

Then there was a shrill scream and angry yells, and Nova cried out in pain.

✴

She hadn't been lying about the nightmares. Even when she had passed out, they still plagued her like some unwanted disease. However, this time, it was different. She dreamed of a place, not a person.

It was a room; a very disordered room, at that. It looked like it had been abandoned years and years ago. Layers of dust coated everything. The paper was peeling off the walls. Every piece of furniture inside was broken, smashed to pieces. Every single window was boarded up; to keep something out, or to keep something inside, Nova wasn't sure.

The heavy clasp of fear tightened around her throat. Besides the state the room was in, nothing odd seemed to be happening. It was just the state of the room. And some looming feeling of dread; an omen maybe.

Then she heard a bark, and Nova yelped loudly.

Her own yelp jarred her awake. She sat up in a white bed, looking around to see a hoard of people draped in yellow surrounding her. Hannah leaned forward, looking close to tears. She wrapped her arms around the black-haired girl's neck, and said happily; "Nova!"

Ernie appeared at the back of the crowd, with Madam Pomfrey in toe. He looked relieved to see Nova awake.

Nova listlessly took the chunk of chocolate Madam Pomfrey gave her. "Wha-what happened?"

"You passed out," said Justin, extremely pale. "It was so ..." He shook his head, gnawing on his bottom lip.

Cedric Diggory sat on the edge of Nova's bed. He was still in his Quidditch uniform, drenched to the bone with rain water and covered with mud from the field. Madam Pomfrey made a noise of disapproval as he sat down. The Hufflepuff boy brushed his dark hair plastered to his forehead away.

"The dementors appeared," he admitted. "It was chaos, everyone started panicking. I didn't notice until ..."

"Cedric caught the Snitch," Hannah explained to Nova, brushing the girl's bangs down. "He feels really bad about it since ..." She glanced around the infirmary.

"Since what?" asked Nova. "You caught the Snitch, Cedric?"

He shook his head. "I caught it, but it's not fair. Harry passed out. Fell fifty feet, too. I want a rematch, but Oliver Wood says I won fair and square."

"Potter passed out?" Nova squeaked.

The Hufflepuffs around her all nodded together. Nova tried to peer around them all, looking for any sign of the boy. Madam Pomfrey stopped by again, chiding Nova for not eating any chocolate yet. Then she told the Hufflepuff Quidditch team to leave, scolding them for tracking in all sorts of dirt and mud.

Cedric stood up and patted Nova's shoulder. "I'll come see you later, okay? We’ll work on McGonagall’s paper then."

Nova nodded, still looking around for any sign of Harry Potter. About eight beds down, she saw Hermione and Ron standing around a bed. They kept looking over at the crowd of yellow and black. The Hufflepuff team trooped out on the orders of Cedric and Madam Pomfrey. Hannah, Justin, and Ernie remained. Ernie pulled a chair over and sat down; he looked shaken.

"Tell me what happened," said Nova. "I want to know."

Her three friends shrugged in unison.

"The dementors showed up," Justin started. "And you started ... I don't know what, to be honest. You clutched at your ears; you were crying, too. And then you screamed, and then you passed out. Ernie caught you before you could fall. Potter passed out not long after."

Hannah stared at Nova mournfully, like she was attending the girl's funeral. "Dumbledore was pissed. I've never seen him so angry. As Harry started to fall, the Headmaster ran out into the field. He waved his hand and Harry slowed before he hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away ... He was furious they'd come onto the grounds."

"We left soon after," admitted Ernie. "Flitwick saw you pass out. He magicked you onto a stretcher and took you to the infirmary."

Nova swallowed the chocolate in one bit. She didn't have any sort of appetite. Questions swirled around her mind, each one more confusing than the last. As far as she was aware, no one else had passed out because of the dementors—besides her and Harry. And not only had that happened once, but twice.

Coincidences be dammed, there was no way thatwas all just coincidences.

Chapter 9: vi. A Haunting Past

Chapter Text

starlit supernova
❛ vi. ahaunting past ❜

━━━━━ MADAM POMFREY INSISTED on keeping Nova in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend. No matter how much Nova pleaded, Madam Pomfrey wasn’t taking any pity. She was stuck in there until Monday.

Not-so-lucky her. Nova wanted to scream when she heard the news. She couldn't put up the three drilling pairs of eyes on her that whole time. Hermione and Ron visited Harry the whole time, only ever leaving at night. And they stared. Blatantly. Without any shame. It got so bad Nova was nearly in tears.

Ernie had started to storm over to them once, but Hannah and Justin pulled him back before anything could transpire. Despite wanting to confront them herself, Nova was thankful for Hannah and Justin. Ernie wouldn't have stopped them from staring, he would've only made himself an “enemy” of the three Gryffindors all over again.

Hannah, Justin, and Ernie visited daily, intent on cheering her up. And it worked, for the most part. Hannah would tell Nova about the stuff going on in their dorm room with Susan Bones and Megan Jones. Ernie and Justin told her about Zacharias Smith and how he got his head stuck inside a flower pot (it was a long, albeit hilarious, story). Emile showed up with a book he thought she might enjoy, despite knowing Nova's aversion to reading. Cedric and some of the Hufflepuff team stopped by, too, there to talk happily about winning the Quidditch game. Only Nova and Cedric looked bummed at the topic. Neither of them wanted to talk about it.

"I'm just saying," Nova said, stomping her way toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom that Monday. "If Snape is teaching, I'm taking a sharp nosedive off the Astronomy Tower."

Justin and Hannah rolled their eyes, but Ernie nodded along as if he agreed with Nova. She swung the door open, and looked inside with her eyes narrowed. She searched the dark classroom, letting out a sigh of relief when she spotted Professor Lupin.

"Guys," she said, pulling Ernie inside, "he's here!"

"Thank, Merlin ..." muttered the blond, walking to his seat.

Professor Lupin was back at work. It certainly looked as though he had been ill. His old robes were hanging more loosely on him and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes; nevertheless, he smiled at the class as they took their seats, and they burst at once into an explosion of complaints about Snape's behavior while Lupin had been ill.

"It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he give us homework?" Susan Bones complained, showing her hands, which were covered in black ink.

"We don't know anything about werewolves," Padma Patil said furiously. "Two rolls of parchment, Professor!"

"Did you tell Professor Snape we haven't covered them yet?" Lupin asked, frowning slightly.

The babble broke out again:

"We tried," Nova started, "but he just 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, thank God." Nova sunk in her seat. "I haven't even started it."

They 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," explained Professor Lupin as they 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, Nova among them, but—

"Wait a moment, Nova," Lupin called. "I'd like a word."

The Hufflepuff winced, but lagged behind the rest of her Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw classmates. She watched as Professor Lupin covered the hinkypunk's box with a cloth.

"I heard what happened to you during the Quidditch match," said Lupin, turning back to his desk and starting to pile books into his briefcase. "Your friends thought fast, catching Flitwick's attention."

Nova watched him carefully. "Yeah, they did ... Look, did you hear about Potter? The dementors seem to go for him, not me—"

"Yes, I've heard," said Lupin. "But you still passed out, Nova."

"And Potter almost hit the ground," she insisted. "And his broomstick hit the Whomping Willow, too. Dumbledore had to—"

Lupin sighed, causing Nova to stop mid-sentence. "They planted the Whomping Willow the same year that I arrived at Hogwarts, Nova. 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. Harry was lucky he hadn't been the one to fly into the Willow."

"And the dementors," she continued, sounding desperate to get the attention off her. "I just got freaked out, is all. The dementors hadn't gotten near me. They were on the field, going after the players. And then Dumbledore stepped in."

Lupin looked at her sharply. "Yes, I heard about them. 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 passed out?"

Nova hesitated for a moment. "... Yeah," she admitted. She hesitated a second time, and then the question she had to ask burst from her before she could stop. "Why, though? Why do those dementors affect me? More than anyone else? Am I just—"

"It has nothing to do with weakness," said Professor Lupin sharply, as though he had read Nova's mind. "I'm not sure why the dementors affect you more than your classmates," he admitted, "but it is not because you are weak. Do not think that about yourself, Nova."

A ray of wintery sunlight fell across the classroom, illuminating Lupin's grey hairs and the lines on his young face.

"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. You have nothing to feel ashamed of."

Nova's throat constricted. Her eyes flickered across the room, refusing to look at Professor Lupin. "When they get close to me," she started, "I ... hear things. Conversations, a dog—" She clamped her mouth closed, her lips pursed tightly. She hadn't meant to bring up the vision of the shaggy, black dog. "Never mind," she said quickly.

Lupin watched her. "You ... hear conversations?" he asked.

Nova swallowed. "Just one. It's two women, one is talking about the other being a traitor, and the other says she doesn't know anything. It …” She shuddered, shaking her head. "The conversation ended with a shrill scream. I think ..." She trailed off. One of the women sounded like the vision of Nova’s mother, only instead of whispering Caroline, she was seemingly screaming for her life.

Professor Lupin shifted in his seat. He reorganized the stack of books on his desk. Nova watched, another question building in her throat; "Why did they have to come to the match?" she said bitterly.

"They're getting hungry," explained Lupin coolly, turning to shut his briefcase with a snap. "Dumbledore won't let them into the school, so their supply of human prey has dried up ... I don't think they could resist the large crowd around the Quidditch field. All that excitement ... emotions running high ... it was their idea of a feast."

Nova thought about the things she had heard about dementors. "They're horrible," she said quietly. "I couldn't imagine what Azkaban's like."

Lupin nodded grimly. "The fortress is set on a tiny island, way out to sea, but they don't need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they're all trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheery thought. Most of them go mad within weeks."

"But Sirius Black escaped from them," she said slowly. "My friends told me about it; he got away. And now, he attacked the Fat Lady—"

Lupin's briefcase slipped from the desk; he had to stoop quickly to catch it. "Yes," he said, straightening up, "Black must have found a way to fight them. I wouldn't have believed it possible ... Dementors are supposed to drain a wizard of his powers if he is left with them too long ..."

"But, then how did Black escape?" asked Nova. "He had been in there—What?—twelve years. That's a long time."

"It is," Lupin agreed. "But I don't understand how Black escaped."

"Well, there has to be a way," Nova insisted, her brows pinched together. "He couldn't've just waltzed out. Not out of Azkaban.”

She stood up suddenly, a somber look on her face. "I'm going to figure it out," she vowed. "And the dementors will find Sirius Black, and I'll never have to see them again."

✴

Two weeks before the end of the term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white, and the muddy grounds were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost. Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, had already decorated his classroom with shimmering lights that turned out to be real, fluttering fairies. The students were all happily discussing their plans for the holidays.

And to everyone's delight, there was to be another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of the term.

"We can do all our Christmas shopping there!" Hannah said excitedly. "My baby brother would love some candy from Honeydukes!"

Bundled in a yellow and black scarf, a jumper layered over a thin T-shirt, a pair of thick pants, and a bag to carry whatever bought from Hogsmeade, Nova stood excitedly in line with her friends. Despite having gone to Hogsmeade once before, Ernie, Hannah, and Justin were just as excited to go again.

Hannah, Justin, and Ernie showed Nova Hogsmeade for all they could. And after they had stopped to get butterbeer from the Three Broomsticks, and stopped by Zonko's Joke Shop, and Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop for more quills (Justin and Nova wrote to their parents a lot, okay?), they practically ran to Honeydukes Sweetshop.

The place was warm, with a cozy feeling, pulling you inside with the crowd to look at everything offered.

There were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-colored toffees; hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows; there was a large barrel of Every Flavor Beans, and another of Fizzing Whizbees, the levitating sherbert balls Ernie had told her about; along yet another wall was the “Special Effects”—sweets: Droobles Best Blowing Gum (which filled a room with bluebell-colored bubbles that refused to pop for days), the strange, splintery Toothflossing Stringmints, tiny black Pepper Imps (“Breathe fire for your friends!”), Ice Mice (“Hear your teeth chatter and squeak!”), peppermint creams shaped like toads (“Hop realistically in the stomach!”), fragile sugar-spun quills, and exploding bonbons.

Nova walked inside, faintly hearing the twinkling bell attached to the door. The place was crowded, kids shoulder to shoulder as they looked at the sweets. Nova tugged at the yellow scarf around her neck, her nose red and numb from the cold.

She scoured the shelves, looking at each and every kind of candy she came across. Nova hung around the aisle with sour candy, looking at some acid pops. She raised her eyebrows at the description before shrugging and dropping a couple into her basket. Nova had long lost her friends inside, but figured whoever finished first would wait outside for the rest.

"Acid pops?" said a voice beside her.

Nova flinched and spun around. She blinked at the girl who was inches away from her face. "Hermione?"

The Gryffindor smiled, tugging the scarf around her neck downward to reveal more of her face. "Do you like acid pops? Ron said they burned a hole through his tongue once. But he was four at the time, I figure that would be a lot for a four-year-old."

Nova blinked. "Yeah, I guess."

Hermione stared at her expectantly, as if wanting the Hufflepuff to contribute more to the conversation. When she didn't, Hermione cleared her throat and asked, "Well—do you like acid pops?"

Nova shrugged. "'Dunno," she admitted. "I haven't had much wizarding candy besides chocolate frogs. I hate those jellybean things."

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans?" offered Hermione.

Nova nodded and snapped her fingers. "Those things. They're horrible."

"Well," the Gryffindor started, "if you like chocolate frogs, maybe you'll like this." She pulled out a sphere of chocolate wrapped in a thin layer of plastic. "It's a chocoball. It has strawberries and cream inside."

"Um—" Nova took the candy awkwardly, dropping it into the basket hanging off her arm. "Thank you. I guess."

She shifted, looking around for an escape, but then Hermione grabbed her arm as she said; "Do you like chocolate a lot? Honeyduke's has a whole area dedicated to chocolate. They even have their very own, it's super good!"

Nova gave a tight-lipped smile, prying Hermione's cold fingers off her arm. "I haven't got there yet, but Hannah said she would meet me there. Like—right now." She took steps away from the Gryffindor. "See you, Hermione. In class or something. Maybe the library."

She left the aisle, zooming past four other ones, and then slid into one that was to her left. She bumped into Justin, who was holding a packet of fudge flies, looking confused. Ernie was beside him, explaining what they were. They gave her odd looks when she appeared out of the crowded store, looking winded.

"You need serious exercise if walking around Honeydukes gets you out of breath," said Ernie dryly, taking the packet of fudge flies from Justin and dropping them into their shared basket.

"That's not it!" Nova scowled at him. "Hermione Granger was accosting me!"

Justin looked at her. "You know what that means?"

"’Course I know!"

Ernie shook his head. "Granger's not like that, Nova. Besides—what would she want with you?"

"My point exactly," she hissed, stomping after them. "I'm telling you—she, tweedle dum, and tweedle dee have been stalking me."

"Tweedle dum? Tweedle dee?" asked Justin. "You mean Weasley and Potter?"

Nova nodded. "They're always together, aren't they?"

"They can't stalk you," said Ernie, turning a corner. "We all live in the same castle."

Nova was nearly ready to wail in frustration. "Can't you just listen to me? I've been telling you about their staring, and now Hermione's harassing me. There is something up with them!"

Ernie and Justin shared a glance. "You don't think you're looking into too deeply are you, Noves?" the latter suggested carefully. "I mean—"

"Forget it!"

✴

Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card—the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow, with holly wreaths on every doors, and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees. Nova shivered, looking around for the post office. Ernie complained behind her loudly, but she only ignored him and kept walking.

"Why?" asked Hannah as they rounded another corner.

"I need to send my parents a letter and Hogsmeade has a post office," said Nova. "I need to send it quickly.

"About what?"

"They wanted me to write why I want to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas break," said Nova, branding the sealed letter.

Justin's jaw dropped a little, his face red from the biting wind. "You want to stay at Hogwarts? But why?"

Nova frowned, debating on telling them about the conversation she had with Lupin weeks earlier. "Studying," she lied, ignoring the sound of indignation from Ernie. "I'm majorly behind in Transfiguration, you know."

"Yeah, but you don't study," Ernie pointed out.

"Yes, I do!"

The three looked at Nova pointedly, but she didn't let up; "Look—I'm staying. You guys don't have to or anything. I wouldn't ask that of you. But I've worked too hard to convince my parents to let me stay, I'm not changing my mind now."

Justin, Ernie, and Hannah all exchanged looks, but they didn't say anything more. After Nova had sent the letter off, Hannah suggested they stop at the Three Broomsticks for more butterbeer. Nova agreed quickly, the wind biting at her face and hands. In a few minutes, the four were entering the tiny inn. It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky. A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar.

"That's Madam Rosmerta," said Ernie, slightly red in the face. "I'll get the drinks, right?"

Hannah rolled her eyes playfully and offered to go with him. Justin grinned at Nova, saying, "He's got a crush on Rosmerta."

Nova raised her eyebrows and made her way to an open table with Justin. Five minutes later, Ernie and Hannah came back, each carrying two foaming tankards of hot butterbeer. She sank in her seat and drank the butterbeer happily.

The four chatted aimlessly, glancing over when the door opened with a flurry. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak.

"Fudge?" Nova heard Ernie coaked on his butterbeer. "What is he doing here?"

"Fudge?" She wheeled around. "Who's that? What kind of name is that?"

"Cornelius Fudge, Nova," supplied Hannah. "Minister of Magic. I don’t suggest judging the Minister’s name, either."

With the speed of light, Nova spun around to face him a second time. Justin tried to pull her back around, but she stayed glued, watching as McGonagall, Flitwick, Hagrid, and Fudge sat at the table some tables down from the Hufflepuffs.

Madam Rosmerta walked over, carrying four drinks. "A small gillywater—"

Professor McGonagall raised her hand. "Mine."

"Four pints of mulled mead—"

"Ah, Rosmerta," said Hagrid.

"A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella—"

"Mmm!" said Professor Flitwick, smacking his lips.

"So you'll be the red currant rum, Minister."

"Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," said Fudge. "Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us ..."

"Well, thank you very much, Minister." Nova watched as Madam Rosmerta marched away and came back. Her eyes narrowed on them, trying to read the mood between the five adults. "So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" asked the pub owner.

The Minister shifted in his seat, looking around. Nova ducked her head, pretending to absorb herself in the conversation being held at her table. She heard him say in a quiet voice; "What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?"

Nova looked up at the name Sirius Black. Like a dog called to attention.

"I did hear a rumor," admitted Madam Rosmerta.

"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" said Professor McGonagall exasperatedly.

"Do you think Blacks still in the area, Minister?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"I'm sure of it," said Fudge shortly.

"You know that the dementors have searched the whole village twice?" said Madam Rosmerta, a slight edge to her voice. "Scared all my customers away ... It's very bad for business, Minister."

"Rosmerta, dear, I don't like them any more than you do," said Fudge uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution ... unfortunate, but there you are ... I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore—he won't let them inside the castle grounds."

"I should think not," replied Professor McGonagall sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"

"Hear, hear!" squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.

"All the same," demurred Fudge, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse ... We all know what Black's capable of ..."

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," admitted Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought ... I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

"The worst?" said Madam Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity, "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"

"I certainly do," said Fudge with a grim nod.

"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"

"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," murmured Professor McGonagall. "Do you remember who his best friend was?"

"Naturally," said Madam Rosmerta. She let out a small laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here—Oo, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"

Nova let go of the handle to her tankard. It fell onto the table with a clatter. The three at her table stopped their conversation and looked at her.

"What's up, Nova?" Hannah asked. "Thank Merlin your tankard was empty."

Nova gripped her arm. "Hang on, Han ..."

"Precisely," agreed Professor McGonagall. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course—exceptionally bright, in fact—but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers—"

"I dunno," chuckled Hagrid. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money."

"You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers!" chimed in Professor Flitwick. "Inseparable!"

"Of course they were," Fudge said. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him."

"Because Black turned out to be in league with … You-Know-Who?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"Worse even than that, m'dear ..." Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. "Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."

"How does that work?" said Madam Rosmerta, breathless with interest.

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat. "An immensely complex spell," he said squeakily, "involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find—unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the SecretKeeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!"

"So Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"Naturally," said Professor McGonagall. "James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself ... and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself."

"He suspected Black?" gasped Madam Rosmerta.

"He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements," said Professor McGonagall darkly. "Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."

"But James Potter insisted on using Black?"

"He did," said Fudge heavily. "And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed—"

"Black betrayed them?" breathed Madam Rosmerta.

"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it—"

"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.

Professor McGonagall shushed him.

"I met him!" growled Hagrid. "I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me that rescued Harry from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead ... an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James's Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I comforted the muderin' traitor!" Hagrid roared.

"Hagrid, please!" Professor McGonagall said. "Keep your voice down!"

Nova grabbed her fallen tankard from the table, making the three around her flinch. They had long cleaned it up, going back to the conversation as she became absorbed by the adults talking. "We need to leave," she insisted, trying to pull Hannah out of her seat.

"What?" Ernie said. "I haven't finished my butterbeer!"

"Oh—go screw your butterbeer, Ernie!" she said hotly. "I have something I need to look into!"

Chapter 10: vii. Committee of Rich Assholes

Chapter Text

starlit supernova
❛ vii. committee of rich assholes ❜

━━━━━ NOVA WOKE TO an empty dorm room, and she found a nearly empty common room once she made her way down after finally getting dressed. She stopped at the base of the staircase to the girl's dormitories, frowning at a lone boy reading a book in front of the fireplace; Nova thought his name might be Jasper.

"What time is it?" she croaked, her voice raw with sleep.

Jasper jumped, slamming the hardcover book down on his fingers. He sighed when he laid eyes on the black-haired girl. "Oh, it's you. Um—nearly twelve, I think. Did you just wake up?"

"Erm—" Nova scratched the back of her neck. "... Perhaps."

He grinned at her. "I didn't know you were staying for the winter holidays."

Nova shrugged, shuffling over. She sank into one of the yellow couches (she didn't know if they were yellowed by age or to match the Hufflepuff colors of yellow and black). "I decided to stay back this year. Figured I needed some free time to study in the library."

Jasper nodded, opening his book. "Well, the library is certainly empty for the next few weeks. Study to your heart's desire. Unless you want to head down to the Great Hall for lunch."

"Uh—no thanks," Nova rejected the invitation. "I think I'll get started on the extra studying."

Feeling a bit of an obligation to study now, Nova left the Hufflepuff common room in search of the stuffy library. Did she want to study? No way, but she could look for something on Sirius Black inside the aging books. Surely there had to be something on the man—considering he was from a Pureblood family and for the fact he was, well, a mass murderer.

After searching through book after book (Nova had even come across a spider hiding—she won't ever admit to how loudly she had screamed), the Hufflepuff girl came up empty-handed. She scowled to herself, pushing the book back onto the shelf. She ignored the glare the librarian gave her and slumped over to a table.

She laid her head down on a stack of books she had gathered, tracing her finger over the slightly raised title of the top book. Nova had hit a dead end face-first. She could already feel the migraine forming; a wave of tears built in her eyes. She wiped her sleeve over her eyes, grimacing slightly. She had been confident going in, but now, that confidence had plummeted worse than her Transfiguration scores (which was saying something!)

Nova was sure she would be able to find something on Sirius Black, but the only thing she could find was in relation to his family —“The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.” Proud bunch, huh? Sure, Nova knew all about Pureblood and their obsession with proving and keeping blood purity (even if that meant having children with their own cousin). Their motto (What kind of family had a whole motto?) was “Toujours Pur”. And what did that mean? “Always pure.” Nova had never felt herself physically recoil as hard as she did after reading that translation.

"Nova?" a voice called out to her.

The Hufflepuff jumped and peeled her head off the book to look around. Emile Hawkins stood at the end of a bookshelf, books tucked under his arm. He frowned at her, grabbing another book off the shelf.

"Oh, hey, Emile," she said awkwardly, raking her hair down with her fingers. "I didn't see you."

The boy snorted and set his books on the table next to her. He pulled out a chair and sat down. "I can see that."

Nova smiled at him, her mind muddling. "Um—yeah." She straightened, fixing the stack of books in front of her. "Why are you here?"

"At Hogwarts?" said Emile. His dark eyes flickered around the library. He shrugged, opening one of the books he brought with him. "Just wanted to stay this time. More, um, peace for me to study."

Before Nova could pry anymore, Emile redirected the topic; "Why are you here? I didn't know you stayed over winter break."

"Not normally," she admitted. "But I just ... wanted more peace and quiet to study too, you know?"

How was she supposed to tell him that she stayed behind to look for more information on her biological mother? And that she was looking into Sirius Black—how the man escaped Azakban and how he got onto school grounds? Why do the dementors target her and cause her to pass out?

"Oh!" Emile straightened, looking interested. "What are you studying?"

"Um—" Nova faltered. She grabbed a book she had laid away from the rest. "Magical beast. Um, yeah, magical beast. I was ... really excited about Hagrid's class and all, but with Malfoy being Malfoy, Hagrid's toned down the monsters we study. I was looking into what kinds are out there."

Emile leaned over to look at the book. She had the urge to either rip it away or smack his head with it. Instead of doing that, she tightened her fingers around the spine, smiling awkwardly at the Ravenclaw.

"Why don't you go talk to Hagrid, then?" he suggested, looking at her.

She blinked. "Talk to Hagrid? As in, walk across that snowy ground, through the cold, and just knock on his door?"

"That's how it would go, wouldn't it?" said Emile. "I can go with you if you want. I don't mind."

"Um, no thanks, Emile," said Nova, grabbing the book about wizarding animals. She placed it on top of a book about blood purity. "I can go myself. Besides, you don't even take Care of Magical Creatures."

"I don't care to go, still," he insisted. "You shouldn't be walking the grounds alone, anyway, with the dementors."

The black-haired girl bristled, tucking the books under her arm. "No thanks, Emile," she said coldly. "I'm not helpless, for your information."

✴

Nova made the trek to Hagrid's hut with lies built upon more lies prepared. She was going to him to ask about magical creatures when in reality she was going to pry more information about Sirius Black and dementors from him.

She couldn't lie and say she didn't feel guilt for doing such a thing, but it wasn't like she was going to ransack his place and threaten his life. It was just a small, little lie that would never hurt anyone if kept under wraps.

She made her way down the snowy lawn, careful to not fall into any banks of snow. She made a shallow trench in the glittering, powdery snow in her wake. Her socks and the hems of her cloak were soaked and freezing. The Forbidden Forest looked as though it had been enchanted, each tree smattered with silver, and Hagrid's cabin looked like an iced cake.

She knocked loudly on the icy door, cringing at the pain that rocketed through her joints. She frowned when there was no answer. "Hagrid—er, Mr. Hagrid?" she called through the wood. She shivered under her cloak, hearing a series of low sobs. She straightened, looking around the grounds. Nothing was around her, but Hagrid's hut.

She knocked loudly again, and then again. "Hagrid, are you okay?"

There was the sound of heavy footfall, and then the door creaked open in front of her. Hagrid stood there with his eyes red and swollen, tears splashing down the front of his leather vest. "Nova?" he asked, sniffling loudly.

The Hufflepuff blinked up at the gigantic man. She had expected to find him freezing away in his hut (surely, it was poorly insulated), not him in the middle of a crying session. "Hagrid?" she said, her eyes wide. "Are you—crying?"

"Have ya heard?" he asked.

"Um, no," she admitted. "What happened?"

Hagrid helped her inside, making sure she didn't slip on any ice patches. Nova cringed as tears fell onto her cloak, but she hid the reaction from the professor. She swallowed, glancing around awkwardly as Hagrid sat down heavily and let out another sob.

"Uh," she shuffled from foot to foot, "would you like me to make tea?"

(Sue her, okay? She was already awkward enough around people her own age crying, let alone a grown man who was crying.)

"No, no, Nova." Hagrid shook his head, shaking off some tears from his shaggy beard. "Why—why d'yer come?"

She motioned to the book over magical creatures she had taken from the library. "I came to ask about some magical creatures. I had read about some of them, but I figured going to someone with so much knowledge about them would be much better than anything I could read."

After finding the man in tears, she wasn't sure what to expect for a reaction. But instead of falling into a wave of new tears (which is what Nova was worried about), he got up and lumbered over to a bookshelf and grabbed some. Some looked to be notebooks, with yellowing papers sticking out. Nova thought she even saw some splatters of blood on the covers.

"Um, what are those?" she asked.

"Some books to give ya," said Hagrid. "But I'll tell ye anything ye want to know, of course."

The kettle on the stove whistled and Nova hurried over to take it off. She poured them both a cup silently. She flipped through some as Hagrid fixed up his tea however he wanted it.

"You want me to take this?" she asked.

Hagrid nodded. "Of course. Yer one of my best students, Nova."

She gave him a strained smile, scooping some sugar into her cup. "Hagrid, what's the matter?"

"It's nothin' to worry yourself about, Nova."

"But if I can help," she insisted.

Hagrid gave her a watery smile. "Ey was a Hufflepuff myself, ye know. Bein' a Hufflepuff means bein' there for someone. That's what it's all about." He hiccuped and went on to say, "It's my poor Beaky. Malfoy's gone and told his father. An' now people are upset. But Beaky's a good hippogriff! he wouldn't hurt anyone, was only pervoked... He's a lovely littl' flyer."

"He is," Nova agreed eagerly, hoping to keep the man from dissolving into tears again.

"I was expelled, yeh know. 'Round your age. I never finished school. An' I—Professor Dumbledore was kind enough ter offer me this position. As a kid, I loved magical creatures. My dad used ter tell me all 'bout 'em. I loved 'em. I love 'em. Those large an' scary creatures ev'ryone is afraid o'. They're all harmless. They on'y attack when scared. They aren' monsters, they're jus' like yeh an' me. Things with feelings. An'—an' they shouldn' be treated any differently because they don' ... I've always bin tall, an' tha' scared people, especially when I was a kid. An' those creatures, they aren' too different from me."

Nova stared at the man. "I ... That's why you teach Care of Magical Creatures?"

Hagrid nodded. "I wan' ter teach people ter not be afraid."

"I—I think that's wonderful, Hagrid," she confessed. "Magical creatures aren't something to be scared of. They're ... wonderful. That's why I took your class, you know. I wanted to learn all about them. I wanted to know why they do what they do, why they are what they are."

Hagrid brightened slightly. "Have yeh ever thought 'bout makin' a job out o' studying magical creatures?"

She shrugged. "I've thought about every career to be honest. I'm not sure what I want to do."

He gathered all the books on the table and pushed them closer to Nova. "Read these," he insisted eagerly. "Come back ter me after yeh're done an' I'll show yeh some other stuff I've got."

Nova took the books and stacked them on top of the books she had brought with her. "Of course," she agreed. "But, Hagrid, what happened to Buckbeak?”

Hagrid winced and wiped his red nose. "Malfoy," he said bitterly. "Malfoy's gone an' told his father tha' Beaky is some dangerous—" His voice cracked and he swallowed back a sob. "Malfoy's father is telling the Ministry tha' Beaky is dangerous and should be taken care o'—" He let out a sob that rattled Nova's ears.

"I'm sure there's something we can do—"

A rhythm of rapid knocks cut Nova off. The two looked over, wondering who could be knocking.

"I'll get it," she said, sliding away from the table. She winced as Hagrid let out another sob as she swung the door open. As she opened the door to say; "I'm sorry but Hagrid is unavailable—Potter? What are you doing here?"

Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley stared back at her, bundled up to block the biting winds.

"It's Harry an' his lot?" said Hagrid, his voice breaking. "Go ahead an' let them in."

Nova raised her eyebrows silently but opened the door wider for the three. Hermione gave her a small wave as she entered, but Ron stared like she was something to stay weary of. Nova sneered at him as he continued to stare.

"Yeh've heard?" Hagrid bellowed to them.

Harry glanced at Nova, looking confused. But the girl only shrugged and poured herself a second cup of tea. "Heard what?" he asked.

"Something to do with Buckbeak," replied Nova, setting the kettle to the side. "You guys want tea? The water's still warm."

"Sure," Hermione said warmly, grabbing a cup.

"Um, no thanks," Harry said, sharing a look with Ron. "What are you doing here?"

Nova stopped mid-drink. "Didn't I ask you the same thing? Obviously, I came to talk to Hagrid." She gestured to the stack of books on the table. "Maybe I find the subject of magical creatures interesting, Potter."

Without saying anything more, she sat back down, refusing to look at Harry.

Harry shuffled on his feet a bit, looking around. His eyes landed on an official-looking letter lying open on the table. "What's this, Hagrid?" he asked.

Hagrid's sobs redoubled when he noticed what Harry was looking at. He shoved the letter toward Harry, who picked it up and read aloud:

"Dear Mr. Hagrid,

Further to our inquiry into the attack by a hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident."

"Well, that's okay then, Hagrid!" said Ron, clapping Hagrid on the shoulder. But Hagrid continued to sob, and waved one of his gigantic hands, inviting Harry to read on.

"However, we must register our concern about the hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the official complaint of Mr. Lucius Malfoy, and this matter will therefore be taken to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place on April 20th, and we ask you to present yourself and your hippogriff at the Committee's offices in London on that date. In the meantime, the hippogriff should be kept tethered and isolated. Yours in fellowship ..."

Harry trailed off, silently folding up the letter and laying it back down on the table.

"Oh," said Ron. "But you said Buckbeak isn't a bad hippogriff, Hagrid. I bet he'll get off."

"Weasley—" Nova snapped, "you really think the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures is just—" She stopped short, hearing Hagrid let out another sob.

"Yeh don' know them gargoyles at the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures, Ron!" he choked, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "They've got it in fer interestin' creatures!"

A sudden sound from the corner of Hagrid's cabin made the four students whip around. Buckbeak the hippogriff was lying in the corner, chomping on something that was oozing blood all over the floor.

"I couldn' leave him tied up out there in the snow!" choked Hagrid. "All on his own! At Christmas."

"You'll have to put up a good strong defense, Hagrid," said Hermione, sitting down and laying a hand on Hagrid's massive forearm. "I'm sure you can prove Buckbeak is safe."

"Won't make no diff'rence!" he sobbed. "Them Disposal devils, they're all in Lucius Malfoy's pocket! Scared o' him! Ad if I lose the case, Buckbeak—"

Hagrid drew his finger swiftly across his throat, then gave a great wail and lurched forward, his face in his arms.

"What about Dumbledore, Hagrid?" said Harry.

"He's done more'n enough fer me already," groaned Hagrid. "Got enough on his plate what with keepin' them dementors outta the castle, an' Sirius Black lurkin' around—"

"But he's headmaster," Nova insisted. "And you're his staff. He hired you, meaning he should stand up for you. Sure, he's old—maybe he'll croak soon or something—but he still has power as headmaster!" She didn't mean to sound so bitter about the man, but there was still that sting of their last conversation. "It's Dumbledore's responsibility to give you the best defense he can."

"Dumbledore's a busy man, Nova," said Hermione miserably.

"So that's just an excuse to leave his staff to fend for himself against that Committee of Rich Assholes?" Nova demanded hotly.

"... That's not what they're called, Nova."

"Same thing, isn't it?"

"Listen, Hagrid," Harry spoke up, "you can't give up. Hermione's right, You just need a good defense. You can call us as witnesses—"

"I'm sure I've read about a case of hippogriff-baiting," said Hermione thoughtfully, "where the hippogriff got off. I'll look it up for you, Hagrid, and see exactly what happened."

Hagrid howled still more loudly. Harry and Hermione looked at Ron to help them.

"Er—do you want me to make you another cup of tea?" said Ron.

Harry stared at him.

"It's what my mum does whenever someone's upset," Ron muttered, shrugging.

"I'm going to help, Hermione," Nova insisted. "Buckbeak was nothing even close to dangerous until that twat Malfoy provoked him. Hagrid, you can't let this destroy you, okay? You'll only be giving the Malfoys that satisfaction. You can't let Malfoy get an even bigger head than he's already got—I can’t stand looking at his ugly and smug face."

Hagrid blew his nose on a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth and said, "Yer right. I can' afford to go ter pieces. Gotta pull meself together ..."

Fang the boarhound came timidly out from under the table and laid his head on Hagrid's knee.

"I've not bin meself lately," he admitted, stroking Fang with one hand and mopping his face with the other. "Worried abou' Buckbeak, an' no one likin' me classes—"

"I like your classes," Nova said. (A little white lie.) "Better than potions, easily! But, maybe, after the flobberworms, we could do something else. You know, from the book."

"Yeah, your lessons are great!" Ron said, his ears turning red. "Er—how are the flobberworms?"

"Dead," said Hagrid gloomily. "Too much lettuce."

"Oh no!" said Ron, his lip twitching. Nova frowned at him.

"An' them dementors make me feel ruddy terrible an' all," said Hagrid, with a sudden shudder. "Gotta walk past 'em ev'ry time I want a drink in the Three Broomsticks. 'S like bein' back in Azkaban—" He fell silent, gulping his tea.

After a pause, Hermione asked timidly; "Is it awful in there, Hagrid?"

"Yeh've no idea," said Hagrid quietly. "Never bin anywhere like it. Thought I was goin' mad. Kep' goin' over horrible stuff in me mind ... the day I got expelled from Hogwarts ... day me dad died ... day I had ter let Norbert go ..." His eyes filled with tears.

"Yeh can' really remember who yeh are after a while. An' yeh can' really see the point o' livin' at all. I used ter hope I'd jus' die in me sleep. When they let me out, it was like bein' born again, ev'rythin' came floodin' back, it was the bes' feelin' in the world. Mind, the dementors weren't keen on lettin' me go."

"But you were innocent!" said Hermione.

Hagrid snorted. "Think that matters to them? They don' care. Long as they've got a couple o' hundred humans stuck there with 'em, so they can leech all the happiness out of 'em, they don' give a damn who's guilty an' who's not."

Hagrid went quiet for a moment, staring into his tea. Then he said quietly, "Thought o' jus' letting Buckbeak go ... tryin' ter make him fly away ... but how d'yeh explain ter a hippogriff it's gotta go inter hidin'? An'—an' I'm scared o' breakin' the law ..." He looked up at them, tears leaking down his face again. "I don' ever want ter go back ter Azkaban."

"Oh, Hagrid ..." Nova said quietly. "We'll help as much as we can. If—if push comes to shove, we can set Buckbeak free. We can make it look like he escaped. You can even say that I set him free; that wouldn't be too far from the truth."

Chapter 11: viii. A Bad Friend? (Yes!)

Chapter Text

starlit supernova
❛ viii. a bad friend?❜

━━━━━ TO SAY THAT Nova was shocked to see a crying Hermione standing in front of the barrels in the Hufflepuff common room would be an understatement. The Gryffindor girl stood at the base of the barrels, sobbing as her hands shook. She was flipping through a page in a notebook or something, muttering to herself through sobs and sniffles.

Nova glanced awkwardly at the walls surrounding them, tucking the extra books taken from the library under her arm. She had left the Hufflepuff common room after dinner that evening, feeling very perturbed by Professor Trelawney's attitude. (Something about death and dying — Nova tried not to think about it.) Feeling rather lost and knowing the silence of her dorm room would send her spiraling, Nova decided to go to the library to pick up some of the books she had left behind.

Sure, she figured she might run into Peeves or Filch on her way to and from the library, but she never expected to find a crying Hermione Granger standing in front of the barrels in the Hufflepuff common room.

"Um" — Nova cleared her throat — "are you, uh, okay?"

Hermione glared at her weakly. "Does it look like I'm okay?"

"Well, no. But I figured I should be nice since you're crying and all." Nova shuffled closer. "What are you doing?"

"I was trying to get into your common room," Hermione admitted, wiping away a tear that traced its way down her cheek.

"But you can't. You're not allowed!" Nova protested. "That's, like, against rules. It's against rules, isn't it? I dunno I don't care much for rules —"

"It is against the rules," she agreed, her voice raw with crying, "but only if you're not invited inside."

"But why do you want to get inside?" asked Nova rather plainly. She flinched, rubbing the back of her neck. "Oh, I mean, why are you crying?"

Hermione stared at her. "You sound so concerned."

"I am concerned!" insisted Nova. "But I'm just wondering why —"

"It's this barrel, isn't it?" asked Hermione, pointing to the wooden barrel that was two from the bottom and in the middle of the second row. "I tap the rhythm of Helga Hufflepuff?"

Nova blinked, wondering if she should lie. Students from other Houses shouldn't — and couldn't — enter any common rooms that weren't for their personal House.

"... No. No, it isn't."

Hermione huffed. "I know it is. Don't lie to me! I heard one of the Hufflepuff prefects reminding a first year."

"Okay, fine. You're right. But why do you want inside? You don't plan on, like, ruining stuff?"

Hermione didn't answer, instead, she tapped to the rhythm of Helga Hufflepuff on the barrel. The wooden lid slid aside, revealing a sloping, earthy passage into the Hufflepuff common room.

"Welp." Nova popped the P. "You figured it out. But seriously, why are you here? And why are you crying?"

Hermione's eyes filled with tears again, and before they could start falling, she climbed through the entrance and into the common room. Nova fought the urge to sigh with annoyance and followed the Gryffindor into Nova's common room.

Nova shuffled inside awkwardly after Hermione, setting her books down on a nearby table. "Do you ... need water? Um … a quill?"

They didn't have water inside, Nova had no idea why she asked that. Don't judge her! She wasn't good with people crying in front of her. She froze and just stared awkwardly, waiting until the tears stopped.

"No thanks," Hermione said. "But do you have any tissues?"

"Um, sure." Nova passed them along, watching as Hermione dabbed at her eyes. She licked her lips, sitting down in one of the overly-stuffed yellow cushions. "So, Hermione —"

"It is very ... yellow in here," said the Gryffindor, looking around. "It's a pretty yellow, of course! Just so — yellow."

"Yeah, 'course it is. That’s the House colors and all," said Nova impatiently. "Why are you crying?"

Hermione took a deep breath, as if preparing herself. She took another tissue and wiped at her nose. "It's a long story."

Was that her trying to say she didn't want to talk about it? Nova winced and said quickly, "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine —"

"No, it's okay," Hermione insisted. "It's just — It's a bit embarrassing to admit but ... I didn't know where else to go. Ron and Harry are upset with me. And I don't know why — I was the only one being sensible!"

"Sounds pretty typical." Nova nodded.

"And I wanted to go someplace they wouldn't be," said Hermione. "I don't want them glaring at me for something that isn't my fault."

"Wait, they're mad at you?" Nova frowned. "What for?"

Hermione crumpled the used tissue in her hands, her hands trembling still (but this time, Nova wasn't so sure it wasn't from rage). "For Christmas, Harry received a Firebolt — no note, no nothing. After everything to do with Sirius Black, I logically came to the conclusion that he had sent Harry the broom. He could've jinxed it — put some curse on it. He wants Harry dead, and he probably take any measure to make it so. So I went to Professor McGonagall with my concerns, and she agreed with me. She confiscated the Firebolt, but Harry and Ron are upset with me. They say that it isn't possible."

Nova stared at the girl. "They're mad at you because you're looking out for Harry's best interest? Couldn't he just go out and buy a Firebolt himself? I've heard the Potters are rich, rich."

"He can after the school year ends," Hermione agreed. "But they just think I'm being too paranoid."

"Rightfully so, I think," said Nova. "I mean — Sirius Black is a mass murderer. And the Black family was loaded, too. He could still have access to all that."

"I know I'm right for telling Professor McGonagall," Hermione said. "But Ron and Harry are —"

"You don't have to explain yourself." Nova waved her hand. "I get it. They're being assholes. You can just hide out in here for however long you like. You know how to get in now."

Hermione smiled at her, her eyes tinged red from tears. "Thanks, Nova."

✴

Before she knew it, Christmas faded away and the new year began. The Hufflepuff common room filled with students, pushing out Hermione Granger, who was unable to hide there any longer. But despite this setback, the girl hung to Nova's side like glue.

Nova wasn't sure what to make of this at first. She tried to be positive — a new friend after all — but she was weirded out more than anything. Nova hadn't been the best at comforting her (the Hufflepuff mainly just sat there and stared) but Hermione had seemed grateful for it. And Nova hadn't been so sure of her already existing friend group to accept Hermione so easily.

Well, it mainly was just Hannah and Justin. Ernie was always a bit cold to new people.

Hannah smiled brightly as the Gryffindor walked over to the Hufflepuff table in the Great Hall. "Hermione!" she greeted warmly. "How did you sleep?"

Hermione stuck out like a sore thumb in the sea of yellow ties with her red tie. "I slept well. Thanks for asking, Hannah."

Ernie let out a Humph, but kept eating his bacon. Nova sent him a cold stare. She may be a bit confused by the whole situation herself, but they weren't going to resort to being mean to a girl who hadn't been mean to them.

Over the weeks, Nova grew to like and enjoy Hermione's company. Their little friendship became more than just Nova feeling sorry for the Gryffindor (which was a horrible reason to be friends with Hermione for that, she knew and she felt horrible for it). They would hang out in the library, the Hufflepuff common room, and even the Gryffindor common room — although, they didn't spend as much time there as the other places.

Hermione was extremely bright, just as Nova had heard. She was curious and inquisitive, wanting to know all the answers to the world. They spent a lot of time looking through books to help Hagrid and Buckbeak. But when they weren't reading about hippogriffs — which wasn't often — Hermione would pry into Nova's life.

"So your parents adopted you?" Hermione asked, leaning forward in her chair.

"Yeah." Nova shrugged casually. "They desperately wanted a kid, and I had been given up by my biological mum."

"Have you ever met her?" asked Hermione. "Your biological mother?"

Nova stiffened and turned a few pages in her book. "No. Um, no, I've never met her."

Hermione watched her closely. "Touchy subject, sorry."

"S'fine," said Nova. "You didn't know. Besides, there's not much to say. I never met her, and all I have of her is this f*cking letter —" She paused. "Forget it."

Hermione eyed her for a moment as if assessing her behavior, and then she opened the book in front of her. "Right. Well, what do you think about Professor Lupin?"

Nova thought for a moment, then shrugged. "He's nice. And he cares. I've been learning a lot in his class. Shame he's been so sick. I hope he's okay."

Hermione straightened. "Do you know why he's been ill?" She sounded eager, as if she had something to share.

"No." Nova frowned. "Do you?"

Hermione took a deep breath, as if getting ready to share, but then she paused. The girl shook her head. "No. I just thought you might've known."

"Nah, I have no idea what's wrong. But I hope he gets better. And that he doesn't get sick again. I don't ever want Snape subbing for his class again."

Hermione tried for a smile. "Yeah. He assigned my class an essay about werewolves, it was interesting but pointless now that I think about it. Professor Lupin didn't even take for a grade."

"You finished it?" Nova's jaw dropped. "I hadn't even started it! I thought Snape was mad for it. He assigned it because he was in a sh*tty mood."

Hermione's smile turned even more strained. "Yeah," she agreed hesitantly. "Professor Snape was in a foul mood."

✴

Nova wasn't sure if there was a person who enjoyed schoolwork more than Hermione Granger.

No, scratch that, Nova was positive no person on earth enjoyed schoolwork as much as Hermione Granger. It just wasn't possible. The girl spent every waking moment studying, reading, or doing some assignment. Nova was going mad for the Gryffindor. The nights she spent in the Hufflepuff common room, she was spent sitting at a table in the back with the entire thing covered in books, Arithmancy charts, rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes.

And it wasn't any different in the Gryffindor common room, which was horribly ugly by the way. From the first step taken inside, Nova decided that she hated it. And she didn't hate it because it belonged to Gryffindors (a small lie on her part), but because of the atmosphere and the eye-bleeding color scheme. It was red. So red. Just the color red everywhere. It was like a bloodbath but with no actual blood.

"It's so ... red," she muttered, quiet enough that Hermione could barely hear her.

The Gryffindor hiked her bag over her shoulder. "That's the House colors."

"It's making my eyes bleed."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic."

But Nova wasn't being dramatic — sort of. Her eyes stung looking at all the red that surrounded her. She almost felt like a traitor to Hufflepuff by sitting inside. She thought Helga Hufflepuff was going to strike her down and turn her into a badger. Okay, perhaps Nova was being dramatic.

But it wasn't just the abysmal color scheme. The place was either boiling with heat or Nova could practically see the frost growing on the walls of the castle. For some magical castle, they didn't have insulation?

And don't even get her started on the sheer loudness of Gryffindors. Nova was sure she was leaving with impaired hearing every time she left the Gryffindor common room. Again, the same happened with the temperature, the Gryffindors themselves were hot or cold. It either felt like the entire House was inside the common room, all yelling at the top of their lungs, wanting to be the loudest, or there was no one and you could hear the castle creaking and settling. And despite sitting in the back of the crimson and gold common room, the noise level still made Nova's head pound.

Nova rubbed her eyes, sitting back in her seat. She peered over the stacks of books around them, watching the Gryffindors with narrowed eyes. She knew there was no point in telling them to be quieter — they would just look at her and tell her to get out. So instead, Nova sank in her seat and read one of the books Hagrid had given her. Despite telling Emile the lie about studying magical creatures, they are truly interesting.

Despite the small barricade of books around them, nothing could stop the excited talking as Ron Weasley and Harry Potter climbed inside, carrying carefully and proudly a gleaming Firebolt. Nova fought the urge to roll her eyes as Gryffindors crowded around the two.

"Where'd you get it, Harry?"

"Will you let me have a go?"

"Have you ridden it yet, Harry?"

“Ravenclaw'll have no chance, they're all on Cleansweep Sevens!"

"Can I just hold it, Harry?"

With ten minutes to watch in slight disgust and shock, Nova saw the Firebolt being passed around and benign admired from every angle. After they were done with their morbid curiosity, the crowd dispersed, and Nova was left with a clear view of Harry and Ron, looking ready to walk over.

"Oh — brainless Potter and Weasley are walking over," Nova grumbled, grabbing a book. "I'm leaving."

Hermione grabbed her arm tightly, her quill dripping some ink on the Hufflepuff's arm. "No, don't. Do you want them to think you hate them?"

"I don't hate them — well, maybe Potter," said Nova.

"Honestly, Nova —"

"I got it back," Harry announced, grinning at them and holding the broom proudly.

"See, Hermione? There wasn't anything wrong with it!" said Ron.

"Well — there might have been!" said Hermione. "I mean, at least you know now that it's safe!"

"I'll take it!" said Ron eagerly. "I've got to give Scabbers his rat tonic." He took the Firebolt and, holding it as if it were made of glass, carried it away up the boys' staircase.

"Can I sit down, then?" Harry asked Hermione.

"I suppose so," said Hermione, moving a great stack of parchment off a chair.

Harry looked around at the cluttered table, at the long Arithmancy essay on which the ink was still glistening, at the even longer Muggle Studies essay (“Explain Why Muggles Need Electricity”), and at the rune translation Hermione was now poring over. Then his eyes flickered over to Nova, who was narrowing her eyes at him. "Hey, Nova," he greeted. "I saw you took some books about magical creatures from Hagrid, how's that going?"

"Yeah. Hi." Nova raised her book and pretended to read, though her eyes stayed glued to the first word on the page. "It's going, I guess."

Harry shifted in his seat, looking over to Hermione. The girl acted as if he hadn't looked and went back to her essay. Harry scratched the back of his neck and looked at what she was writing. "How are you getting through all this stuff?" he asked Hermione.

"Oh, well — you know — working hard," said Hermione.

"Why don't you just drop a couple of subjects?" Harry asked, watching her lifting books as she searched for her rune dictionary.

"I couldn't do that!" said Hermione, looking scandalized.

"Arithmancy looks terrible," admitted Harry, picking up a very complicated-looking number chart.

"Of course it does look terrible to someone as small-brained —" Nova started to snip but Hermione cut her off quickly.

"It's wonderful," gushed Hermione. "Really. It's my favorite subject! It's —"

But exactly what was wonderful about Arithmancy, Hermione never shared. (Nova also thought that the subject of Arithmancy looked terrible to her, but she would never say that aloud.) At that precise moment, a strangled yell echoed down the boys' staircase. The whole common room fell silent, staring, petrified, at the entrance. Then came hurried footsteps, growing louder and louder — and then Ron came leaping into view, dragging behind him a bedsheet.

"Look!" he bellowed, striding over to Hermione's table. "Look!" he yelled, shaking the sheets in her face.

"Ron, what —"

"Scabbers! Look! Scabbers!"

Hermione was leaning away from Ron, looking utterly bewildered. Nova looked down at the sheet Ron was holding. There was something red on it. Something that looked horribly like —

"Blood!" Ron yelled into the stunned silence. "He's gone! And you know what was on the floor?"

"N-no," said Hermione in a trembling voice.

Ron threw something down onto Hermione's rune translation. Hermione, Harry, and Nova leaned forward. Lying on top of the weird, spiky shapes were several long, ginger cat hairs. The black-haired girl raised her eyebrows, glancing over to Hermione, who began to sniffle.

Nova knew that becoming friends with someone who got into so much trouble was going to be a bad choice.

Chapter 12: ix. Rat Buddies

Chapter Text

━━━━━NOVA WAS RIGHT.Of course she was. Becoming friends (Was it too early to call them friends?)with Hermione Grangerwasa wrong choice. It wasn't Hermione's fault (sort of), but more of a ... How should Nova put it ...?

Thechaosthat surrounded Hermione Granger.

Frankly, Nova didn't need anything else in life to make her life more hectic than it was. She already had enough problems of her own and trying to help Hermione with hers was driving Nova a bit mad. (Correction:extremely moremad.)

Nova remembered thinking that it was a bit crazy to suddenly become friends with someone who had driven her crazy with stares, and sure, itwas. But Hermione had proven herself to be a good friend. She had been there for Nova with help on homework, there to help when Nova felt down about getting a low score on some stupid Potions test(Snape was a conniving asshole—), and never pried into Nova's life despite the multitude of questions she must have had.

So maybe that's why Nova felt the need to protect her friend. She felt that she needed to stand up for a friend no one else was standing up for. Weasley and Potter — the lame assholes they were —were supposed to be the ones standing up for Hermione, but yet, they were the ones making her feel so horrible. It wasn't right. That wasn't how friends were supposed to act.

"Hermione," Nova started, "you don't care to stay here, right? Just got to drop off these books."

Hermione waved her hand. "Go ahead."

After that, Nova gathered the books on her bed, bid Hermione and her dormmates goodbye, and left the dorm room. She hurried down the corridors, two books in hand, and entered the library with several younger students pouring inside with her. She dodged and weaved through them, dropping off the books. Unfortunately for her, it had been so late in the day that by the time she made it out of the hectic library, the sun had already set. Luckily, most of the corridors were pretty well-lit.

"I told you," a voice hissed. "Still letting him wander about wherever he wants—probably washing down Scabbers with a couple of birds now ..."

Nova stopped dead in her tracks. She knew that voice well, and recognized such a stupid name likeScabbers. Her hand tightened around her wand, but kept forging ahead, it wasn't like she was going to have to fight them.

"Ron ..." Harry muttered, his voice strained.

"I get it. I'll shut up about it," Ron grumbled back.

Nova gritted her teeth as their footsteps grew closer. Either she was catching up from behind, they were catching up with her, or they were going to meet head-on. And out of those three possible scenarios, Nova wanted exactlyzeroto transpire.

"It's not that," Harry tried to explain meekly.

"Nah, Harry, it's fine. I've been talking your ear off about it," said Ron. "But ..." He sighed. "Scabbers was the one thing I had that wasmine. He wasmypet. And I know, a rat for a pet is pretty pathetic, but that was the one thing that was mine and nothing something my siblings had. I was the one looking out for the annoying thing after Percy gave him up after a week. I did all of that, no one else. He wasmine."

Harry didn't respond after that, maybe he just didn't know what to say. Or maybe he was just one awkward guy. That seemed more likely to Nova in her very humble opinion.

"I'll let you borrow my Firebolt tomorrow," Harry offered. (Yeah,awkward.)"Flying around tonight made you feel better, didn't it? I'm sure Hooch will let us play a mini-match with my team."

"Yeah, maybe ..." Ron muttered. "Still, Hermione seems to be doing alright. Holloway and her friends are hanging around with her now. Bit weird, isn't it, though?"

"How so?" said Harry.

"It just is," said Ron. "You said it yourself, Harry. Holloway avoids you. You said she looks at you like you punched her or something. Maybe this is all just a ploy."

Nova could practically feel her own ears perking up at the mention of her last name. She quickened her pace down the hallway, peering down the next corridor to see if she could spot Potter or Weasley. Faintly, she could see two figures at the end of the hallway. Nova scowled to herself. They were going to run head-on. She didn't have any other choice but to go this way, she had to get back to the Hufflepuff common room.

"But that's not what I meant," Harry protested. "Nova's been nice the couple of times I've talked to her. I think it's just the fact she's friends with Macmillian. You remember last year when he hated my guts."

"Oh, sure—Oh." Ron's words died on his lips as he and Harry spotted Nova glaring at them. She hurried down the corridor, sending them a hateful glare every five steps or so.

"If you're going to gossip, at least do so quietly," she hissed to them. "And make sure what you're saying is correct, too. A ploy, Weasley? You really think I care enough to plan out becoming friends with Hermione? I'm just being a better friend to her than either of you ever thought about being."

The redhead's ears burned brightly. "That's some—"

"Hey, Ron," Harry interrupted, "you go ahead. I'll catch up."

Ron glanced at Harry with a look of betrayal before glaring at Nova(who gladly returned a glare)before scampering off. Then, Nova turned her glare toward Harry, who raised his eyebrows at her.

"What do you want?" she demanded. "If you want me to try and make amends with Hermione for you. Sorry, that's all on you and your rat boy."

"Don't call him that."

Nova shrugged. "If the shoe fits. Seriously—what do you want?"

"You passed out when the dementors attacked my last Quidditch game."

"Wow, what a genius." She scowled at him, twisting her wand through her fingers. "So what if I did? Is it a crime to pass out now?"

"Well,no." Harry shuffled on his feet, his green eyes dodging her icy glares. "It's just—well, you passed out before, too, when the dementors attacked the train."

"I hit my head," Nova said easily, tilting her chin upward in a haughty manner.

Harry frowned. "I don't think you did."

"Were you there or something?" said Nova.

"Yeah, I was on the train." He rolled his eyes slightly.

She blinked at him. "I meant inmycompartment, genius."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Real smart, aren't you?" Nova's words were laced with sarcasm. "Anyways, are you done grilling me for answers? Yeah, so what if the dementors caused me to pass out? Of course I'd pass out—they're a down-right ugly bunch."

Harry's lips quirked, but it seemed he remembered if he was supposed to beupsetwith her(or something like that)and the smile fell. "Seriously, Nova—"

"It's Holloway for you," she broke in.

"—Do you hear stuff when the dementors get near you?"

She paused, only for a moment, and then she scowled at him. "'Course not. I'm not some loony. And a warning, Potter—don't go around talking about hearing voices. That's not normal. Foranyone."

Before Harry could respond, she turned on her heels, and marched down the corridor, closer to the Hufflepuff common room.

✴

Nova can't lie and say she was excited for the next Quidditch match. She had no stakes in the matter, besides counting being friends with a Gryffindor—Hermione Granger, and Neville slightly—but that seemed to be a low blow considering Hermione and Harry Potter's friendship seemed to be on the decline more than ever. And Nova didn't even count being friends with Hermione too much considering Hermione didn't even want to go to the game that badly.

But, still, Nova was going. For a multitude of reasons. One; her friends were making her. Ernie and Hermione wouldn't let up with the constant nagging. It would be Ernie nagging at her that she couldn't miss this game to see Gryffindor's massive defeat against Ravenclaw(which would be one of the few times he would cheer for Ravenclaw), and then it would be Hermione saying that she had to go(because of her declining friendship with Harry)but that she didn't want to go alone. Nova was finding it overrated to have friends.

Second; she also wanted to witness Gryffindor's massive defeat firsthand. And that was the more important reason to her.

Nova adjusted the yellow bracelets Hannah had loaned to her for the game. She frowned down at the green field, wondering where the Gryffindor team was. The Ravenclaw Quidditch team was already down there, and so was Madam Hooch. "You don't think Potters gotten sick, have you?" she asked, sounding a bit too hopeful.

Ernie snorted as Hermione gave her an offended look. "Don't say that, Nova!" Hermione chided.

"I'm not saying Iwanthim to be sick." Nova raised her hands apologetically. "I'm just saying it would be ...funny. I mean—wouldn't it be funny?" She nudged Justin hard in the ribs.

The blond winced, but shook his head. "No, Noves, it wouldn't be."

Nova rolled her eyes and huffed as the sea of red on the opposite side of the stadium roared at once. Vaguely, she could see seven red figures walking out onto the field. "Finally..." she muttered to herself.

Madam Hooch gave the red and blue teams her usual spill, and the teams parted ways, mounting their brooms. Hooch blew her whistle and the two teams kicked off into the air. Nova looked up as Lee Jordan started commentating on the new broomstick Harry had been given. "They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt that Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor," said Lee. "According toWhich Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship—"

"Jordan, would you mind telling us what's going on in the match?" interrupted Professor McGonagall's voice.

"Right you are, Professor—just giving a bit of background information—the Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and—"

"Jordan!"

"Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor, heading for goal ..."

Nova watched as Harry streaked across the field, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. She knew he wasn't purposely trying to flaunt the broom(or maybe he was, who knows), but it still felt that way.

Just as Katie Bell, a Chaser on the Gryffindor team, scored the first goal in the match, Harry dove toward the ground. The Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho Chang, chased after him. And just as Potter was flying closer and closer to the ground, one of the Ravenclaw Beaters flung a Bludger his way. Harry veered off course, avoiding the Bludger by and in. Nova cringed to herself, imagining the nightmare that would have been if he hadn't avoided it.

There was a great "Oh" of disappointment from the Gryffindor supporters, but much applause for their Beater from the Ravenclaw end. George Weasley vented his feelings by hitting the second Bludger directly at the offending Beater, who was forced to roll right over in midair to avoid it.

"Gryffindor leads by eighty points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go!" Lee shouted over the roaring crowd. Nova winced, rubbing at her ears. Lee Jordan was alwaysso loud."Potter's really putting it through its paces now, see it turn—Chang's Comet is just no match for it, the Firebolt's precision balance is really noticeable in these long—"

"Jordan! Are you being paid to advertise Firebolts?" Professor McGonagall shrilled angrily."Get on with the commentary!"

Nova snorted to herself as the Ravenclaws caught up with the Gryffindors; they had now scored three goals, which put Gryffindor only fifty points ahead—if Cho Chang got the Snitch before Harry Potter, then Ravenclaw would win.(Not that Nova wanted that of course — note the sarcasm, please — that would really suck for Hermione if her House lost.)

It seemed that Harry and Cho both spotted the Snitch as they both went flying in the same direction. But the Ravenclaw Seeker caught the upper hand by cutting Potter off and blocking him.

Even over all the shouts of the audience, Nova could hear Oliver Woods roar, "Harry, this is no time to be a gentleman! Knock her off her broom if you have to!"

Nova snorted again. "Desperate to win, isn't he?"

"He's going to cause us to lose," Hermione said referring to Harry, frowning as she watched.

"Who'sus?" Nova asked. "Personally, I would love to see Ravenclaws win."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course you would. You know, you're friends with a Gryffindor?"

"But you're not as horrible as the rest." Nova batted her lashes with a wide grin.

Hermione shoved her shoulder playfully, but her eyes widened and her hold on Nova tightened. "Ohno! What aretheydoing here?"

"What?" Nova asked but Ernie and Hannah were already pulling her further into the crowd by both arms of hers. "What is it?" she demanded.

Despite trying to be pulled away she could see Harry Potter, who was being tailed by Cho Chang, pulling out his wand and yelling something. Whatever spell he cast—a spell that caused something silverly-white to erupt from the—he didn't pause long enough to watch. Harry turned back and grasped at something small sparkling in the air.

Madam Hooch's whistle sounded. The Gryffindor team smothered Harry, having won the game. But Nova didn't care about that. She pushed her way through the crowd and looked over the side.

On the field, she could see three people cloaked in black. If they hadn't been lying on the ground, where the sun was shining on their pale faces, Nova would have thought them to be dementors.

"Oh, they wouldn't!" Hermione said furiously.

"They did," Nova said quite plainly, pursing her lips.

Lying in a crumpled heap on the ground were Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus Flint, the Slytherin team Captain, all struggling to remove themselves from long, black, hooded robes. It looked as though Malfoy had been standing on Goyle's shoulders.

Standing over them, with an expression of the utmost fury on her face, was Professor McGonagall. Nova smiled to herself, knowing what was about to unfold. "An unworthy trick!" Professor McGonagall was shouting. "A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah—here he comes now!"

Nova snickered to herself as she watched Malfoy fight to escape the robes, while Goyle's head was still stuck inside.

✴

As sad as she was to see Gryffindor win (and to pay Justin those five Galleons), Nova was still excited to attend the party in the Gryffindor common room. Okay, maybeexcitedwasn't the correct term. She was ...eagerto see what dumb sh*t the Weasley twins got up to.

"Did you enjoy the match?" Nova yelled over the crowd to Hermione.

She shrugged and turned a page in her book. "I guess so."

Nova frowned at the book in her head. It was some Divination book, Nova hadn't actually done the reading Trelawney had assigned. "You know, it's got to be hard to read with all this noise here," she prompted the conversation, hoping to bring Hermione out of her shell just a bit more.

Hermione didn't answer for a moment. Then she grabbed her bookmark and marked her page. She looked up to Nova. "It can be. But I've learned how to do it."

"I don't ever do the reading Trelawney assigns," admitted Nova. "I just make stuff up."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at her. "Do you?"

Nova nodded. "Just say whatever sounds most tragic. It just pops in my head, you know? I seem to be doing alright that way."

Hermione hummed. "Trelawney likes you. Maybe that's why."

But Nova scowled heavily. "Don't say that. I don'twanther to like me, I just want to pass."

As the party buzzed onward, Nova and Hermione stayed in their little corner. People would stop by — the Weasley twins waltzed over, offered two butterbeers, practically tossed some peppermint toads in Nova's face, and said their goodbyes — but most people just left them alone.

Mostly.

"Did you even come to the match?" a voice from behind Nova asked.

She turned in her seat and frowned at Harry Potter. "'Course I did. I was cheering for Ravenclaw, you know. You should've been more of a gentleman."

Harry frowned at her. He opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione beat him to it.

"I did. I went with Nova," she spoke up, shutting the book on top of her finger as a makeshift bookmark. "And I'm very glad we won—unlike Nova—and I think you did really well, but I need to read this by Monday."

"Come on, Hermione, come and have some food," Harry coaxed, trying again.

"I can't, Harry. I've still got four hundred and twenty-two pages to read!" said Hermione, sounding slightly hysterical. "Anyway ..." she glanced over at Ron, who wasn't too far away from them, "he doesn't want me to join in."

There was no arguing with this, as Ron chose that moment to say loudly,; "If Scabbers hadn't just been eaten, he could have had some of those Fudge Flies. He used to really like them—"

Hermione burst into tears. Before Harry or Nova could say or do anything, she tucked the enormous book under her arm, and— still sobbing all the while— ran toward the staircase to the girls' dormitories and out of sight.

Nova stared at her friend, her face dropping into a painful-looking sneer. She whipped her head around to face Ron, who was glaring up the girls' staircase. "Get your big head out of your ass, Weasley," she snapped angrily, her posture bristling like an upset cat. "Hermione's your friend, and you talk to her likethat?"

"'Course I do," said Ron flatly, rolling his eyes. "If she just acted like she was sorry—but she'll never admit she's wrong. Not her; not Hermione. She's still acting like Scabbers has gone on a — a vacation or something."

"It's a f*cking rat, Weasley," Nova hissed. "You could get another one off the f*cking street. But yet, you care more about aratthan your ownfriend!"

"Scabbers was my pet before Hermione was my friend," Ron argued.

Nova rolled her eyes. "And clearly, you're not good at being a pet owner—nora friend, Weasley! If you're that sh*tty of a friend then go ahead and just have rats for friends."

Before Harry could try and do damage control, Nova tossed(more of an aggressive throw)her remaining peppermint toad at Ron's head and stormed off. There was slight satisfaction as she watched it bounce off his head and smack someone else in the face.

Chapter 13: x. Maddening Dreams

Chapter Text

━━━━━NOVA DREAMT THATnight. She didn't understand why she was shocked or what transpired in the dreams, but it scared her sh*tless.

It started off with the dream that had been haunting her since the beginning of the school year. Clearer than ever before. She saw the shaggy black dog sprint across the hills, the pounding paws fading into the sound of dripping water. She spotted a rippling black pool of water, reflecting in the water was a full moon. Then the water swirled and rose upward, no matter how far Nova backed away, she couldn't escape the rising water levels.

And then the water rose above her head. She heard many conversations—old, new, some she had lived through herself, others she had never heard before even in dreams.

"—With a knife—" she heard the words ripple through the water. "Over my bed—Sirius Black with a knife!"

"—Traitor to your kind—" a second voice, much older and from a woman. Nova has heard that voice before.

"—is Padfoot—" A man's voice told her, talking about someone."Wormtail—Prongs—"

And then Nova heard the clearest thing—a woman begging for her life and then a shrill scream. She fought against the water, feeling the water washing her tears away.

The water Nova was drowning in flashed green, and she woke up, still hearing the screams.

Nova only realized it was her who was screaming. Her screams mixed together with the woman who had been begging for her life.

And only hours later was she told that Sirius Black had broken into Hogwarts for the second time, seen by Ron Weasley. The mass murderer had been standing over the boy's bed with a knife.

Nova always knew she had odd dreams, but that was the moment she realized that something much more sinister was going on. Part of her thought she was going mad(or alreadymad), and that's why she was hearing conversations, seeing flashes of green, and shaggy black dogs(theGrim, she couldn't deny it now). She didn't want to say it aloud, that always made it more real. Besides, no one had ever believed her before, so she grabbed the dusty notebook from underneath her bed and wrote.

Her dormmates avoided her, even Hannah, who sent her confused glances. But Nova tried not to care—they hadn't seen what she had. And Nova didn't wish that upon them, don't even think she wants that.Shedoesn't want to see what she does see.

She didn't want to say it aloud, mainly because Nova wasn't sure she wouldn't burst into tears trying to tell someone, but maybe her notes were coherent enough to give to someone to read.

Once all her dormmates left for Hogsmeade that morning, she set out, going to a classroom she had always dreaded going to before.

✴

"Professor Trelawney," Nova announced her presence as she walked inside the Divination classroom. "I, um, have a question for you. A weird question."

Professor Trelawney stopped cleaning the shelves of her classroom, glancing at her. "Ah, Nova, my dear! A question for me? Is it a question pertaining to my class?"

"Um ... kind of." Nova shuffled over. "I remember you talking about, um, dreams in class. And I want to ask—"

"Dreams?" repeated Professor Trelawney.

"Uh, yes," said Nova. "I've been having dreams—weird ones—"

The teacher whirled around, nearly smacking Nova in the face with her flowy duster. She gripped Nova by the shoulder tightly, causing both of them to nearly stumble over a pouf behind the Hufflepuff. "Dreams?" Professor Trelawney repeated, her nearly comical bug eyes bursting with excitement. "You've been having dreams, my dear?"

"Yes." Nova grounded her teeth together. "Like I was trying to tell you. I've been having dreams, and I wanted to know your ...opinionon them. If that's possible."

"My opinion?" Trelawney mused to herself. "My opinion doesn't matter here, what matters is what you take away from the dreams, my dear."

Nova fought the urge to roll her eyes. She was getting impatient, with annoyance bubbling in her stomach. As good as she was at Divinations—all of it just luck of having it pop in her head—she hated the professor. Professor Trelawney was a theatrical person; she was mysterious and surrounded by an air of know-it-all about crystal balls before being a Divination teacher.

"But I don't know what to take away," she pointed out, frowning at her professor. "And I just wanted—" She paused, taking a deep breath. "I have to tell someone. It feels like I'm suffocating."

Professor Trelawney nodded knowingly(something that made Nova want toscreamwith rage)and sat down in an overly-stuffed armchair at the table next to them. She motioned for Nova to sit, who did so slowly, bringing her bag into her lap.

"Dreams are an important means for divining the future," said the professor.

"Uh-huh." Nova shifted in her seat, fiddling with the zipper on her bag. "But my dreams don't make any sense."

"Notyet," corrected Professor Trelawney, pointing a spindly finger at the Hufflepuff. "Now, we won't discuss dream interpretation until your sixth year—"

Nova winced silently. She couldn't image taking Divinations past her third year, but if this was a way to answer those annoying dreams then she may have to suck it up.

"—but I could help you now. What have you been dreaming, my dear Nova?"

Slowly, the Hufflepuff took out her beat-up notebook and laid it on the table. Most of it contained old Transfiguration notes, but on the last two and a half pages was a convoluted mess of retellings of all the dreams she could remember, beginning with the latest dream.

"It won't make much sense," she admitted as Trelawney grabbed the notebook eagerly and started reading, "but I didn't think of writing any of it down until the latest dream."

"Which one was that?"

Nova pointed to the first paragraph. "That one. It happened last night. Or this morning. Oh, you know what I mean."

Professor Trelanwey read the pages, over and over. She traced her fingers over some words. Narrowed her prominent eyes at some. She squinted up at Nova's anxious face, and then back down. Then finally, after what felt like ten years but only could've been ten minutes, Trelawney closed the notebook and slid it back over to Nova.

Trelawney interlocked her fingers and asked, "How long have you been dreaming?"

"Like, these kinds of dreams?" asked Nova, pointing to the notebook. "Since the beginning of the year. They started after the dementors attacked the train. But I've been having dreams since I can remember."

Professor Trelawney looked aside. "I should've known ..."

Nova glanced around. "Knownwhat?"

"Your aura, my dear," said Professor Trelawney; Nova wanted to snarl "I don't have an aura!" "You've always had a bright,strongaura. From the moment you stepped into my classroom, I was stunned by it."

"Stunned in a good or bad way?" Nova asked.

"Bad way? No, no. It isamazing!" Professor Trelawney stood, taking the notebook with her.

Nova stood up to hurry after her. "Hey," she protested, "that's mine! I need that!"

"I'll give it back," Trelawney assured. "I just want to make some notes. Nova, I want to continue to talk with you outside of class."

Nova grimaced. "Are you sure?"

She hoped Trelawney wasn't.

"Of course I am!"

For the love of Merlin—

Nova thought coming to Trelawney would help, but all it did was confirm her fears—shehadgone mad. She thought Trelawney might have been able to provide someInner Eyeadvice that would convince Nova that she wasn't seeing all this crazy stuff in her sleep, but the Hufflepuff had been totally wrong.

"So I'm going mad?" the girl muttered bitterly, more to herself than to the professor.

Trelawney gave her a crooked smile. "Not mad, my dear," she corrected. "Madness is not what you have. No, I think we both know what you have."

Nova stared. She blinked once, then twice. "A mental case for a therapist?" she blurted.

Professor Trelawney grabbed Nova's hands, holding her in place. "My child," she almost sounded like she was scolding the student, "you can not deny it any longer. You and I both know. You are filled with pain—withanger. Irritation has been growing with you since you were little. It will become you; it will consume you. You deny and denyand deny. You deny these dreams—these visions—because you arescared. But there is no reason to be scared."

"I'm notscared!" Nova lied, shaking her head. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"I know you, Nova," insisted Trelawney. "I have met many like you who deny, the same way you do. Were they mad? Not then, but denying what they were destined for?Thatis what led them to madness."

Nova jerked away, ripping her notebook away from Professor Trelawney's clutches. She hurried to grab her bag and slung it over her shoulder. "I have to go," she said meekly, opening the trap door to the classroom.

Professor Trelawney waved, likeToodle-oo. "Make sure to visit me again sometime!"

Nova didn't respond, making pace with the ladder. She would never do something like that again.

Because you are scared,Trelawney told Nova.

I'm not scared,Nova insisted to herself.Trelawney's just a dud. She's got a few screws loose.

But denying what they were destined for?Thatis what led them to madness,Trelawney's voice rang in Nova's head.

✴

At one point in time, Hermione told Nova about Hooke's Law. At first, Nova thought it was some law to do with Captain Hook (because let's be honest, he's iconic enough for one), but it has to do with stress. Hooke's Law states that the strain placed upon something is proportional to the elastic limit within said something.

Currently, Nova felt like she was that saidsomething—she felt like her limbs were being ripped apart and that her mind was being muddied with false information. She felt like she was going to snap at any given moment. She felt like she was on a constant verge of tears all morning. She regretted ever going to Trelawney, who only made her more anxious.

She normally wasn't like this. She usually had good control over her emotions—or, at least good control over the emotions that made her cry. She's not saying she cut herself off from any emotion there was; no, she was just normally the type that found ways around the solution where she didn't have to cry.

Nova hurried up the moving staircases, which luckily, weren't moving too much. With so much else going wrong, she was thankful at least the castle had enough courtesy to give her that. Nova skidded down the hallways to the Gryffindor Tower, her chest heaving as she stopped at the portrait of the Fat Lady.

The painting didn't seem to care that Nova wasn't a Gryffindor, or perhaps she just didn't notice that Nova wasn't a Gryffindor. "Password?" she asked, almost sounding bored.

"Oh. Um—" Nova straightened, breathing hard. She paused, out of breath and with zero clue as to what the password could be. She stood for a few seconds, shuffling her feet and racking her brain. Hermoine had told her the new password, in case Nova wanted to visit the Gryffindor common room without the help of Hermione. Hermione had told her a second time that morning, as well, before leaving for Hogsmeade. Nova wasn't even sure if her friend wasback.

"Well?" the Fat Lady prompted. "The password?"

"I, um—"

"Password?" the painting asked again, but this time directing the question to a small first year coming up.

"Oddsbodikins!" he said confidently.

The portrait door swung open, letting Nova and the small first-year inside. Nova tried not to pay any attention to the groups of first and second-years lounging around the common room, making her way up to the girls' dormitories.

She knocked rapidly on the door to Hermione's door room, hoping her friend was inside and that she wasn't knocking on the door to an empty room. Hermione opened the door, her eyes widening upon spotting her friend.

But before Hermione could ever say anything, Nova croaked, "I think I've gone mad."

Then she burst into tears.

✴

No matter what Nova did, her tears wouldn't stop. And it seemed like they never would. Hermione led her over to her bed, letting Nova sit down and sob as she put her books away to make more space on the bed for herself.

Neither said anything for a while. It was just Nova crying and Hermione sitting beside her, trying to calm her without too many questions. Nova's chest heaved with each sob and shaky breath, tears stained her blotchy cheeks. Her eyes and cheeks were puffy and stung with tears that raced down. Nova wasn't sure if she was saying anything, or if she was just sniffling and rubbing at her eyes.

Finally, the tears seemed to dry. And Nova managed to take a deep breath. Hermione passed her a box of tissues.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked soothingly.

No, I don't, Nova thought.

Yes, you do,another voice told her.

That voice won.

"I think I'm going mad," she repeated, her voice ringing and croaky from tears.

She said it like it was some unspoken secret that should've never been uttered. And itwas. Nova knew she was odd, knew that she saw things that most people didn't, but she had never told anyone besides her parents—who hadn't believed her those years ago. Secrets were something she knew well, something she was accustomed to. It was almost comforting to have secrets.

"Mad?" Hermione repeated. "Why would you think that?"

"Whywouldn'tI think that?" Nova countered. She rubbed her eyes, saying, "I keep having these dreams."

She grabbed the old notebook she had brought with her and tossed it to Hermione. She guided Hermione to the right page and let the girl read. For a moment—for alongmoment—Hermione was silent. But Nova never gave her the time to speak.

"And it's not just the dreams," she said bitterly, frowning at the pages. "All this year, I keep seeing that stupidGrim. I saw it after the dementors that first time on the train, Neville said he saw it in my cup during Divinations on the first day, and then I saw it in Professor Lupin's class as my boggart, and then during that Quidditch match—"

"You saw it at the Quidditch match?" asked Hermione, her eyes darting upwards with worry.

Nova nodded. "And the Grim was my boggart—mysecondboggart. I still don't understand that, either. And Divinations"—Nova rolled her eyes hard—"Neville saw the Grim in my cup that first day of class. After that, I started seeing the Grim more and more. I thought it was just because I was scared, but I wouldn't see it in classrooms if that was the case."

"You see the Grim in dreams?" Hermione clarified.

Nova nodded.

"And Neville saw the Grim in your tea leaves in Divinations?"

Nova nodded.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "You don't think—"

"Don't even suggest it," Nova said hotly. "Trelawney'swrong! I'm not likeher. I'm not a Seer. That's ridiculous!"

Hermione watched her carefully for a moment. "Okay, then." She looked down at the notebook in her lap. She thumbed one of the pages nervously. "What about the dreams? Are they ... better?"

"They've only gotten worse." Nova shook her head. "It ramped up a lot this year, after the dementors' attack on the train, and then they got a lot worse after they stormed the Quidditch field. Look, last night—" She stopped suddenly, looking at Hermione with hard eyes. "You can't tell anyone this, okay? My roommates already think I'm crazy."

Hermione nodded fiercely. "I won't tell anyone, Nova."

"Last night," Nova started shakily, "I had ... one of the worst dreams ever. I wouldn't even call it a dream, it was more of a nightmare, really. I saw a lot of things—I saw the Grim, or I think it's the Grim. I saw this pool of water, with the full moon. I heard a lot of things, too." She paused for a moment, debating on telling Hermione everything. "I heard Ron yelling. He was saying something about Sirius Black standing over him with a knife."

Hermione stared after that. Now she looked like the one wanting to burst into tears. "You dreamt that last night?" Hermione asked.

Nova nodded. "Yeah. I woke up screaming. Hannah could barely get me to stop."

Hermione's stare made her skin crawl. She stared and stared, until she pulled Nova in for a hug. She hugged Nova fiercely, squeezing Nova's arms into her side as her words muffled into Nova's shoulder, "You'renotmad, Nova. And you're not going mad. You're scared, and that's okay. I am, too."

She pulled away, giving Nova a watery smile. "We'll figure this out, okay? And no matter what, I'll help you get through it."

Chapter 14: xi. Non-Trelawney Nova

Chapter Text

━━━━━HERMIONE'S SUPPORT MADENova want to spill everything—and she meanteverything. She had been so patient and understanding(Nova had burst into her dorm room and cried, you know), and Hermione never once acted like she was a bother.

And Hermione had believed her. That was more than Nova could say for her parents. Her ownparents. And she had been understanding at the news of the dreams—she hadn't acted like Nova was some freak for them. And not for the Grim (despite her disbelief in the topic), and Hermione never looked at her odd for having passed out time and time again because of the dementors.

"Um, Hermione," Nova said cautiously, "you know I've passed out when the dementors get near me ..."

Hermione nodded to her.

"Well—I see things; Ihearthings. The first time, I saw the—the Grim. On the train, you know? And then during the Quidditch match, I heard ..." she sighed, "I heard a conversation."

"What was the conversation?" asked Hermione.

Nova wrung her hands. "It was two women. One was older, and one was younger—maybe early twenties? She sounded much younger. Um—they were arguing. Something about one being a traitor; the younger one being the traitor. And then they talked about ahe.Hewanted to know something from the 'traitor'. And—and then the 'traitor' screamed."

"What else?" Hermione urged.

"I —I don't know," Nova admitted hesitantly. "The conversation stopped after that. But then I heard it a second time, during my latest dream. I only heard bits and pieces, but it was the older woman's voice."

Hermione pursed her lips. She read through Nova's notes about her dreams again, tracing her finger down the page. "I—I know you didn't want me to suggest it, but you think it's possible you ..." She trailed off.

Nova's bottom lip quivered. She had tried to deny it. Oh, how she tried. She didn't want to admit it at all, not even to herself. She traced the lines of her palm, swallowing the bile in her throat. "You asked once about me being adopted," she changed the topic. "And then you asked if I had ever met my bio mum. I haven't met her, but I do have a letter."

Hermione watched her for a moment. "You do?"

Nova nodded. "My friends are sick of me talking about it. She told me to not find her, but I want to meet her. Ask her why she gave me up for adoption. Or—at least know her name. Maybe I want to see how much I look like her. How much I act like her."

Hermione gave her a sad look and grabbed her hand. "Do you—do you know if youcan? Meet her, I mean."

"In the letter—actually, I have it on me," Nova admitted, patting down her pockets. She took the yellowing paper out, and handed it over to Hermione. Once she was finished reading, Nova said, "She's probably dead, but I still—"

"Want to know," Hermione said softly, handing the letter back. "I couldn't imagine, Nova."

"Yeah ..." Nova tucked the letter away. "My parents and my friends—my parents especially—are sick of me talking about it. They think I'm being consumed trying to find her. And they're right, but they don't—I mean, they're raised by their parents. Theirbiologicalparents."

"Do your adoptive parents—" Hermione paused. "Are theygoodto you?"

"No, they're great," Nova insisted. "But I still wonder about her, about why she put me up for adoption, about what her family did that was so bad. And I feel guilty for talking to my parents about the letter. They took me in and gave so much to raise me, but I can't help but justwonder."

Hermione squeezed Nova's hand. "I'll help you."

"You don't have to—" Nova tried to say.

"Nonsense," Hermione insisted. "You're completely right to wonder. Hell—Harry wonders about his parents all the time. You guys have every right to want to know your parents. And you might have a chance of finding your mum with this letter. I'll help you. Just like the way you helped me with fighting for Buckbeak."

Nova's heart dropped. She gave Hermione a wavering smile. "Thank you, 'Mione. Have you heard anything about Buckbeak?"

"I tried to talk to Hagrid," Hermione admitted, "but—"

A pecking sound cut Hermione off. An owl landed in front of her closed window, pecking its beak against the glass.

Hermione jumped up to let the tawny owl inside. The owl twittered, a piece of parchment wrapped around its leg. Nova and Hermione shared a glance and then back to the piece of parchment. The owl pecked at Hermione's fingers, causing her to yelp, "Yes, yes.Alright!"

Hermione untied the parchment and unfurled the letter. Nova watched as Hermione's dark eyes scanned the paper once, then twice, and then a third time. With each re-read of the parchment, Hermione's face changed; the first time, confusion; the second time, worry; the third time, anger and sadness.

"Nova, read it." Hermione held the paper out to her. "Read it."

Nova took the letter and did as told.

Dear Hermione and Nova,
We lost. I'm allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts.
Execution date to be fixed.
Beaky has enjoyed London.
Iwon't forget all the help you two gave us.
Hagrid

"Buckbeak lost?" Nova demanded. "But—"

"Malfoy's pockets," Hermione recalled. "C'mon—" She grabbed Nova by the arm, pulling her up from the bed. "We have to tell Ron and Harry."

✴

"They can't do this," Harry protested, waving the letter angrily. "They can't. Buckbeak isn't dangerous."

"Malfoy's dad's frightened the Committee into it," said Hermione, wiping her eyes. "You know what he's like. They're a bunch of doddery old fools, and they were scared. There'll be an appeal, though, there always is. Only I can't see any hope ... Nothing will have changed."

"Yeah, it will," said Ron fiercely. "You won't have to do all the work alone this time, Hermione. I'll help."

Hermione's eyes glistened with tears as she threw her arms around his neck. Then, she broke down completely. Ron, looking quite terrified, patted her very awkwardly on the top of the head.

Finally, Hermione drew away. "Ron, I'm really, really sorry about Scabbers ..." she sobbed.

"Oh—well—he was old," said Ron, looking thoroughly relieved that she had let go of him. "And he was a bit useless. You never know, Mum and Dad might get me an owl now."

Nova gave him a look. She thought back to that conversation she had overheard between Ron and Harry. To have—What?—five brothers? She knew everything he had must've been hand-me-downs. And to finally have something that was onlyhis, and then to lose it, perhaps Nova felt a sliver of pity for him.

He was still a sh*tty friend to Hermione, of course. Nova couldn't forget that.

Hermione wiped at her eyes, composing herself. When she did speak, her voice was hardened with determination. She said, "We're going to try our hardest to get Buckbeak out of this life sentence." She looked pointedly (more of a glare)at Harry and Ron. "And I understand that you two were very excited about the broom, but you two were the biggest arses to me—"

"But—"

"But I told McGonagall for your own safety, Harry," she said, frowning at them. "We're lucky the broom wasn't cursed, but what if it had been, and I hadn't told anyone? Merlin knows what could've happened. Harry, you could'vedied, but you two cared more about a shiny new broom than thinking of your best friend's safety." She glared at Ron. "Harry, you could'vedied. You just thought I was driving you up a wall and being petty, but I was doing what was best for his life."

Both Harry and Ron looked at a loss for words.

And before they could come up with anything, Hermione spoke up, "Regardless, Nova's going to help us. Well—help usmore. She helped me all throughout this while you two were being assholes, and she's going to help us again. And you two better not say anything or—"

"Merlin, Herms, we don't mind Nova helping," Harry interrupted. "And we wouldn't say anything against her."

Nova raised her eyebrows silently at that, but didn't comment. "Well, that's lovely," she spoke up. "We're all friends, now.I guess.Let's go skip off into the sunset."

✴

Nova didn't like how easy she found it to fit in with their little trio. She didn't dislike it, but it was certainly weird and not what she was used to (and Nova found comfort in old and routine things). It was weird how Hermione called her over to the Gryffindor table the next morning, and to sit at the table, to sit opposite of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. The two just shrugged, seemingly accepting the arrangement with no issues.

Well— "no issues" was being kind. Ron liked to give Nova the stink-eye, but his eyes just looked more swollen shut than anything. And Harry stared like she was some interesting crossword puzzle (and Novahatedcrossword puzzles).

She noticed the odd looks from her friends at the Hufflepuff table, and more than once, she spotted Emile frowning at her from the Ravenclaw table. Nova didn't hate being spotlighted totally, but she hated it when she didn't want it. Sitting with a bright yellow tie in a sea of blood-red ties made her want to crawl into a hole badger-style and never come back out.

Despite her embarrassment, Nova made it through the breakfast. The four of them talked about the best ways to talk to Hagrid. But the best they could come up with was just offering help to Hagrid. It wasn't exactly a solid plan, but it was the best they had.

When Care of Magical Creatures finally rolled around, Nova was more anxious than anything. Since the first day of the class ended, and the classes started being Malfoy-proofed, she hated class, but now, she was just anxious.

Hagrid seemed numb with shock at the verdict. "S'all my fault. Got all tongue-tied. I forgo' all them public speakin' tips yeh gave me, Nova. We really practiced together, but I forgo' 'em all. They was all sittin' there in black robes an' I kep' droppin' me notes and forgettin' all them dates yeh looked up fer me, Hermione. An' then Lucius Malfoy stood up an' said his bit, and the Committee jus' did exac'ly what he told 'em ..."

"There's still the appeal!" said Ron fiercely. "Don't give up yet, we're working on it!"

The four were walking back up to the castle with the rest of the class. Ahead they could see Malfoy, who was walking with Crabbe and Goyle, and kept looking back, laughing derisively.

"S'no good, Ron," said Hagrid sadly as they reached the castle steps. "That Committee's in Lucius Malfoy's pocket. I'm jus' gonna make sure the rest o' Beaky's time is the happiest he's ever had. I owe him that ..." Hagrid turned around and hurried back toward his cabin, his face buried in his handkerchief.

"Look at him blubber!"

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had been standing just inside the castle doors, listening.

"Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" said Malfoy. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"

"Oh—" Nova rolled her eyes. "You could teach any better, Malfoy? I'd like to see you try and teach a bitch like you and realize how much work it is. Especially when they're a f*cking dumbass who provoked an innocent creature."

"Thatinnocent creature'sa monster, Holloway!" Malfoy hissed back. "It's a lowlife monster that—"

A fist flew for Malfoy's rather pointy nose.

The boy staggered, clutching his nose. Everyone stood around, shocked, as Hermione raised her fist again.

"Don't youdaresay anything about HagridorBuckbeak, you foul—you evil—"

"Hermione!" said Ron weakly, and he tried to grab her hand as she swung it back.

"Getoff, Ron!"

Hermione pulled out her wand. Malfoy stepped backward. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him for instructions, thoroughly bewildered.

"C'mon," Malfoy muttered, and in a moment, all three of them had disappeared into the passageway to the dungeons.

"Hermione!" Ron said again, sounding both stunned and impressed.

"Harry, you'd better beat him in the Quidditch final!" Hermione said shrilly. She whirled around to face him, and the black-haired boy raised his hands slightly. "You just better had, because I can't stand it if Slytherin wins!"

"We're due in Charms," said Ron, still goggling at Hermione. "We'd better go."

Nova frowned. "Damn, I got Transfiguration to go to. Well, see you guys later. Make sure to get evidence if 'Mione punches Malfoy again!"

✴

Nova wished she had done anythingbuttalk to Trelawney about her dreams. She wanted nothing to do with the subject, the professor's words ringing in her ears. And to be honest, Nova was quite sick of those words whispering to her in the back of her mind—

But denying what they were destined for? ... That is what led them to madness.

If you heard it multiple times since running away from the teacher, you would be just as annoyed and bothered.

Nova shuffled into the lesson, a sour look on her face. She sat with Neville and Emile, giving them tired looks as they wished her a good day. Inside the stifling tower room were crystal balls full of pearly white mist glowing on every little table.

"I thought we weren't starting crystal balls until next term," Nova pointed out, casting a wary eye around for Professor Trelawney, in case the professor was lurking nearby.

"Don't complain," Emile chided. "This means we're finished with palmistry. I was getting sick of having to touch your hand."

"Oh, ha-ha." Nova glared. "f*ck you, too."

"Good day to you!" said the familiar, misty voice, and Professor Trelawney made her usual dramatic entrance out of the shadows. Parvati and Lavender quivered with excitement, their faces lit by the milky glow of their crystal ball. Nova glowered with anger in the glowing light of the crystal ball on her table.

"I have decided to introduce the crystal ball a little earlier than I had planned," said Professor Trelawney, sitting with her back to the fire and gazing around. "The fates have informed me that your examination in June will concern the Orb, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practice."

Nova rolled her eyes silently, slinking down in her seat. She would rather sit through ten classes with McGonagall than Divinations.

Believe the fates,a voice rattled across her mind.It's always correct.

Merlin's beard, Nova wished that voice would leave her alone.

Nova heard Hermione snort from across the classroom. "Well, honestly ... 'the fates have informed her' ... who sets the exam? She does! What an amazing prediction!" she said, not troubled to keep her voice low.

Harry and Ron choked back laughs as Nova glanced over with raised eyebrows.

It was hard to tell whether Professor Trelawney had heard them as her face was hidden in shadow. She continued, however, as though she had not. "Crystal gazing is a particularly refined art," she said dreamily. "I do not expect any of you to See when first you peer into the Orb's infinite depths. We shall start by practicing relaxing the conscious mind and external eyes"—Ron began to snigg*r uncontrollably and had to stuff his fist in his mouth to stifle the noise—"so as to clear the Inner Eye and the superconscious. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of you will See before the end of the class."

"The Inner Eye ..." Nova grumbled. "I'd like to squish it like it's a gummy."

Emile sent her a look. "You okay? Your violent tendencies seem to be ..."

"Stronger," Neville supplied meekly.

Nova huffed. "It's nothing. Just ready for this to be over with."

That was an understatement. As she stared into the misty crystal ball, she begged for it to stay that way. She didn't want to see anything. She didn't want to prove Trelawney correct. Nova wasn't like Trelawney.She wasn't a Seer!

But it seemed the odds were stacked against Nova and her begging. Slowly, bit by bit, in the smoke that curled inside of the orb, something began to piece together. Piecing together too slowly for Nova to try and connect the scene in her mind.

This can't be happening, Nova thought to herself.You don't have an Inner Eye. You're Nova Holloway, the girl abandoned by her biological mum for whatever reason. You're not a Seer.

But the crystal orb seemed to want to prove her wrong. Whatever was piecing together seemed to be growing from the earth, tall and grand. If Nova stared just enough, she might've seen it even breathing, rising and deflating slowly. Maybe even shifting around, like it was alive.

Nova shivered, looking away.This can't be right,she tried to tell herself.You don't See anything. You're not a Seer!

Denying who they are,it was Trelawney's voice this time.That is what led them to madness.

I've heard that before,she bit back.No need to tell me a hundred more times.

Nova didn't have an Inner Eye. She had no bright aura. Nothing like that. She took Divinations because it sounded cool and seemed to be an easy O. She didn't take it to learn that she was strange.She already knew she was strange!But Nova couldn't have it be forthis reason.

Nova Holloway wasnotlike Trelawney.Nothing like Trelawney!In fact, she wasNon-Trelawney Nova!

"You see anything, Nova?" Neville asked, almost sounding worried.

The smoke in the orb curled around the breathingthing. Nova wasn't sure what to call it. It was growing limbs by the dozen—Werethose limbs? They didn'tlooklike limbs, they almost looked like branches ...

"No," she lied. "I just see loads of fog."

"Exactly," Ron said, a bit too loudly, from a couple of tables over. "Like Nova said, loads of fog, right? It's obvious what this means. There's going to be loads of fog tonight."

Both Harry and Hermione burst out laughing, but Nova wanted to crawl into her skin.

"Now, really!" said Professor Trelawney as everyone's heads turned in their direction. Parvati and Lavender were looking scandalized. "You are disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations!"

She approached their table and peered into their crystal ball. Nova could feel her heart sinking. She knew what was about to come, but she was glad it was Harry andnother.

"There is something here!" Professor Trelawney whispered, lowering her face to the ball, so that it was reflected twice in her huge glasses. "Something moving ... but what is it?"

"My dear," the professor breathed, gazing up at Harry. "It is here, plainer than ever before ... my dear, stalking toward you, growing ever closer ... the Gr—"

"Oh, forgoodness'sake!" said Hermione loudly as her hands slammed against the round table. "Not that ridiculous Grimagain!"

Professor Trelawney raised her enormous eyes to Hermione's face. Parvati whispered something to Lavender, and they both glared at Hermione too. Professor Trelawney stood up, surveying Hermione with unmistakable anger.

"I am sorry to say that from the moment you have arrived in this class, mydear, it has been apparent that you do not have what the noble art of Divination requires. Indeed, I don't remember ever meeting a student whose mind was so hopelessly mundane."

There was a moment's silence. Then—

"Fine!" said Hermione suddenly, getting up and crammingUnfogging the Futureback into her bag. "Fine!" she repeated, swinging the bag over her shoulder and almost knocking Ron off his chair. "I give up! I'm leaving!"

And to the whole class's amazement, Hermione strode over to the trapdoor, kicked it open, and climbed down the ladder out of sight. It took a few minutes for the class to settle down again.

Professor Trelawney seemed to have forgotten all about the Grim, but Nova hadn't. She turned back to her crystal ball, her hands clenched; in anger, fear, nervousness, in all of the above. In the curling smoke of the fog, a giant tree loomed above something else—something the orb had taken its time to build as Nova was busy watching Hermione and Trelawney. The new thing was something she couldn't mistake; a black shaggy dog.

Padfoot, a man's voice yelled in Nova's ear.

She jumped, bumping her knee against the low table. She looked around furiously, ignoring the way Emile and Neville glanced at her. No man was nearby, so who the hell yelled Padfoot into her ear? Did anyone even yell? Or was it Nova's imagination?

"Oo!" said Lavender suddenly, making everyone start. "Oo, Professor Trelawney, I've just remembered! You saw her leaving, didn't you? Didn't you, Professor? 'Around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever!' You said itagesago, Professor!"

Professor Trelawney gave her a dewy smile. "Yes, my dear, I did indeed know that Miss Granger would be leaving us. One hopes, however, that one might have mistaken the Signs ... The Inner Eye can be a burden, you know ..."

Nova didn't know a lot of things, but she knew shehatedDivinations. Didn't even have to rely on a woman's voice in her head to tell her that.

✴

The Easter holidays were supposed to be relaxing, but Nova felt like she was about to drown.

There were mountains of homework left to complete, and that was for the normal students. Hermione Granger had so much homework it could rival the amount of three (maybe even four)students combined. Even without Divination, she was taking more subjects than anybody else. She was usually last to leave the Gryffindor common room at night, and first to arrive at the library the next morning; she had shadows like Lupin's under her eyes, and seemed constantly close to tears.

Nova almost had pity for Harry Potter, too. With the ever-imminent Quidditch final with Slytherin against Gryffindor, the poor boy had to fit hisstudyaround hisQuidditch practice. And even more so, Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, seemed to be ready to lose his mind. All he ever talked about was tactics over Quidditch.

Nova knew Harry had to be exhausted, especially when he fell asleep on the book she needed to read.

"Hey, Potter, go sleep elsewhere." She poked at his head, trying to grab the book from him. "I need this."

"Sorry." Harry raised his head and slid the book over to her.

Nova cringed and wiped some drool off the cover with her sleeve. "Seriously, you can't just sleep wherever. Besides, you need a regular sleeping schedule if you want any chance at winning the final and passing exams."

Harry gave her a tired look. "That's rich coming from you, Holloway. I've seen you at three in the morning here helping with Buckbeak's appeal."

"Well, I don't like sleeping," Nova said, trying to shrug casually. "I get sh*tty nightmares—I mean, no I don't. Idon'thave nightmares."

"Nightmares," Harry repeated, peering at her. "What kinds?"

"I told you," she insisted. "I don't have nightmares."

"You just said—"

"No, I didn't."

Harry didn't look like he believed her, but he left it at that.

The two didn't exactly speak much over the holiday, both too busy with their own stuff. Though, she, Harry, Ron, and Hermione would often split time between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff common rooms. Nova found herself becoming so comfortable in the Gryffindor common room that she would show up unannounced. She wasn't sure if she liked it or if she was bothered by the feeling.

With Hermione so busy with homework, and Harry so busy with the grueling Quidditch practices, Ron and Nova took over the responsibility of Buckbeak's appeal. When they weren't studying, they were poring over enormously thick volumes with names likeThe Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology and Fowl or Foul? A Study of Hippogriff Brutality. Ron had become so absorbed by the reading, he even forgot to be horrible to Crookshanks. He even stopped giving Nova stink-eyes so often(and eventually, not at all).

Nova remembered the first time Ron tried to enter the Hufflepuff common room without Hermione or Nova herself to help him inside. He crawled his way inside, behind two snickering first years, and covered in vinegar(the punishment for failing to tapHelga Hufflepuffin the correct pattern and on the correct barrel).

"Don't laugh." Ron glared at her.

"I wouldn't dare!" she tried to insist, covering her smile.

Nova didn't expect to bond with the boy over laws and legislations to do with magical creatures, but Nova figured there was a first for everything. (And that it would hopefully be thelast.)Nova wouldn't call them friends, just ... Buckbeak Appeal Buddies. That sounded weird, but that was what most of their conversations consisted over: What would be best to help Hagrid win the case against Malfoy?

He wasn't as annoying as Nova would've hoped for. She wished he made more dumb comments so she could look at him and tell him to get out. Sure, he made idiotic comments, but no more than she did.

("Thewhatact?" Ron asked.

"The Wizengamot Charter of Rights," said Nova, rolling her eyes.

"TheWise—?"

"Don't even finish that sentence.")

Hermione wouldn't allow Nova to kick Ron out, no matter how busy she was with homework. "Two minds are better than one," she said tartly. "You and Ron can get along long enough to help Buckbeak."

Nova rolled her eyes. "You're such a mum. Me and Rondoget along, but not by choice."

Harry fell asleep on his Transfiguration textbook as Ron came back with a large book tucked under his arm.

"I found this," he said, dropping it on the library table, not even waking Harry.

"Well, what is it?" Nova pried.

"There's something about aScamander Actin here," Ron said, flipping through the book. "The Scamanders are Magizoologist, aren't they? They would want to protect magical creatures."

"If you say so." Nova shrugged. "I dunno anything about noSalamanders."

"Scamanders, dumbass," Ron drawled.

"Isn't that what I said?"

✴

The Quidditch stands were a sea of green and red. If Christmas hadn't already long passed, Nova might've thought Hogwarts was holding a Christmas celebration or something. The crowd wearing red(which Nova had to admit seemed to be much larger than the crowd wearing green)were waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor lion upon them, or brandishing banners with slogans like "GO GRYFFINDOR!" and "LIONS FOR THE CUP!"

The Gryffindor team walked onto the field with a tidal wave of cheers. Nova winced at the volume, pulling her hair(which she left down)over her ears. She rearranged the red headband on her head and glanced at Hermione. Hermione seemed happy, cheering loudly. She had badly painted lions on her cheeks and gave Nova a wide smile.

"And here are the Gryffindors!" yelled Lee Jordan, who was acting as a commentator as usual. "Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years—"

Lee's comments were drowned by a tide of "Boos" from the Slytherin end.

Lee continued on; "And here come the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint. He's made some changes in the lineup and seems to be going for size rather than skill—"

More boos from the Slytherin crowd. Nova, however, thought Lee had a point. Malfoy was easily the smallest person On the Slytherin team; the rest of them were enormous.

"Captains, shake hands!" ordered Madam Hooch.

Flint and Wood approached each other and grasped each other's hands very tightly; it looked as though each was trying to break the other's fingers.

"Mount your brooms!" said Madam Hooch. "Three ... two ... one ..."

The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar of the crowd as fourteen brooms rose into the air. The crowd roared loudly as the players flew around. Nova spotted Malfoy keeping close to Harry.

"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinner of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no—Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the field—Wham!—nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by—Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina—nice swerve around Montague—duck, Angelina, that's a Bludger!—She scores! Ten-zero to Gryffindor!"

Angelina punched the air as she soared around the end of the field; the sea of scarlet below was screaming its delight—

"Ouch!"

Angelina was nearly thrown from her broom as Marcus Flint went smashing into her.

"Sorry!" said Flint as the crowd below booed. "Sorry, didn't see her!"

Moments later, Fred Weasley chucked his Beater's club at the back of Flint's head. Flint's nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed.

"That will do!" shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between them. "Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!"

"Come off it, Miss!" howled Fred, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Alicia flew forward to take the penalty.

"Come on, Alicia!" yelled Lee into the silence that had descended on the crowd. "Yes! She's beaten the Keeper! Twenty-zero to Gryffindor!"

"Someone needs to tell him not to shout," Ernie griped, his face pulled into a scowl. "Everyone can hear him just fine without his shouting ..."

Nova gave Ernie a look and turned to watch Flint. Still bleeding, the Slytherin captain flew forward to take the Slytherin penalty. Wood was hovering in front of the Gryffindor goalposts, his jaw clenched.

"'Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee Jordan told the crowd as Flint waited for Madam Hooch's whistle. "Superb! Very difficult to pass—very difficult indeed—Yes! I don't believe it! He saved it!"

"Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession—No! Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell, Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field—That was deliberate!"

Montague, a Slytherin Chaser, had swerved in front of Katie, and instead of seizing the Quaffle had grabbed her head. Katie cartwheeled in the air, managed to stay on her broom, but dropped the Quaffle.

"Holysh*t!" Nova gasped, covering her mouth. "That could'vekilledher!"

Madam Hooch's whistle rang out again as she soared over to Montague and began shouting at him. A minute later, Katie had put another penalty past the Slytherin Seeker.

"Thirty-zero! Take that, you dirty, cheating—"

"Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way—"

"I'm telling it like it is, Professor!" Lee defended himself. "It's an outrage—Harry is flying toward the Slytherin goalposts! And Malfoy's following him!"

Harry had pulled his Firebolt and sped off toward the Slytherin end of the field, Malfoy chasing after him. And then he stopped dead in his tracks, looking around.

Nova tugged at Hermione's sleeve. "What's Harry doing?"

"Trying to get Malfoy out of his way, I'm sure," whispered Hermione.

Before Nova could respond, there was a loud gasp and awoosh!

Nova looked up in time to spot one of the Bludgers that came streaking past Harry's right ear, hit by the gigantic Slytherin Beater, Derrick. Then again—

Whoosh!

The second Bludger sped by Harry again. The other Beater, Bole, was closing in. Nova could see the Slytherin Beaters zooming toward Harry, clubs raised—

And the boy turned the Firebolt upward at the last second, and Bole and Derrick collided with a sickening crunch.

Lee Jordan yelled triumphantly as the Slytherin Beaters lurched away from each other, clutching their heads. "Too bad, boys! You'll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt. And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle—Flint alongside her—poke him in the eye, Angelina!—It was a joke, Professor, it was a joke—oh no—Flint in possession, Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goal posts, come on now, Wood, save—!"

But Flint had scored; there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end, and Lee swore so badly that Professor McGonagall tried to tug the magical megaphone away from him.

"Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won't happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession—"

It was turning into the dirtiest game Nova had ever seen. Enraged that Gryffindor had taken such an early lead, the Slytherins were rapidly resorting to any means to take the Quaffle. Bole hit Alicia with his club and tried to say he'd thought she was a Bludger. George Weasley elbowed Bole in the face in retaliation. Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalties, and Wood pulled off another spectacular save, making the score forty-ten to Gryffindor.

Katie scored. Now it was fifty-ten. Fred and George Weasley were swooping around her, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge. Bole and Derrick took advantage of Fred's and George's absence to aim both Bludgers at Wood; they caught him in the stomach, one after the other, and he rolled over in the air, clutching his broom, completely winded.

Madam Hooch was beside herself. "You do not attack the Keeper unless the Quaffle is within the scoring area!" she shrieked at Bole and Derrick. "Gryffindor penalty!"

And Angelina scored. Sixty-ten. Moments later, Fred Weasley pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands; Alicia seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal—seventy-ten.

The Gryffindor crowd below was screaming itself hoarse—Gryffindor was sixty points in the lead, and if Harry caught the Snitch now, the Cup would be Gryffindor's.

Then, suddenly, the tension increased tenfold as Harry suddenly sped upwards with a huge burst of speed. His hand was stretched out, ready to catch the Snitch when he suddenly slowed down, looking around—

Harry looked behind him to spot Malfoy had thrown himself forward, grabbing ahold of the Firebolt's tail, and pulling it back. Even from where Nova stood, she could see how annoyed Harry was. By the time, he had managed to shake Malfoy off, both Seekers seemed to have lost sight of the Snitch.

"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics." Madam Hooch screeched, shooting up to where Malfoy was sliding back onto his Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

"You cheating scum!" Lee Jordan was howling into the megaphone, dancing out of Professor McGonagall's reach. "You filthy, cheating bit—"

Professor McGonagall didn't even bother to tell him off. She was actually shaking her finger in Malfoy's direction, her hat had fallen off, and she too was shouting furiously.

Alicia took Gryffindor's penalty, but she was so angry she missed by several feet. The Gryffindor team was losing concentration and the Slytherins, delighted by Malfoy's foul on Harry, were being spurred on to greater heights.

"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal—Montague scores—" Lee groaned. "Seventy-twenty to Gryffindor ..."

Harry was now marking Malfoy so closely their knees kept hitting each other.

"Get out of it, Potter!" Malfoy yelled in frustration as he tried to turn and found Harry blocking him.

"Angelina Johnson gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Angelina,come on!"

Every single Slytherin player apart from Malfoy was streaking up the pitch toward Angelina, including the Slytherin Keeper—they were all going to block her—

Harry wheeled the Firebolt around, bent so low he was lying flat along the handle, and kicked it forward. Like a bullet, he shot toward the Slytherins.

"Argh!"

They scattered as the Firebolt zoomed toward them; Angelina's way was clear.

"She scores! She scores!" Lee cheered. "Gryffindor leads by eighty Points to twenty!"

Harry, who had almost pelted headlong into the stands, skidded to a halt in midair, reversed, and zoomed back into the middle of the field. And then he stopped, only for a moment. Nova spotted Malfoy diving, a look of triumph on his face. Vaguely, she could see a tiny golden glimmer a few feet above the grass.

Harry urged the Firebolt downward, but Malfoy was miles ahead ... "Go! Go! Go!" Nova heard Harry yell to the Firebolt. He was gaining on Malfoy—Harry flattened himself to the broom handle as Bole sent a Bludger at him—he was at Malfoy's ankles — he was level—

Harry threw himself forward, and took both hands off his broom. The crowd gasped loudly, all screaming in shock and delight. Harry knocked Malfoy's arm out of the way and—

"Yes!" Lee Jordan yelled, doing his own version of Irish tap dancing.

Harry pulled out of his dive, his hand in the air, and the stadium exploded. Harry soared above the crowd, them all cheering to him. The tiny golden ball was held tight in his fist, beating its wings hopelessly against his fingers.

Then Wood was speeding toward him, half-blinded by tears; he seized Harry around the neck and sobbed unrestrainedly into his shoulder. Nova spotted Fred and George slammed into them; then Angelina, Alicia, and Katie. They were all cheering; "We've won the Cup! We've won the Cup!" Tangled together in a many-armed hug, the Gryffindor team sank, yelling hoarsely, back to earth.

Nova was pulled out of the stands and onto the field by Hermione and Ron, both of whom were yelling excitedly. The Gryffindor team was placed on the shoulders of the wave of crimson supporters that had poured onto the field.

"Yeh beat 'em, Harry, yeh beat 'em! Wait till I tell Buckbeak!" Hagrid cheered, wiping at his eyes.

There was Percy, jumping up and down like a maniac, all dignity forgotten. Professor McGonagall was sobbing harder even than Wood, wiping her eyes with an enormous Gryffindor flag. Nova was pulled over by Ron and Hermione, and Harry smiled down at them.

"You were right, Nova!" he told her. "About the sleep!"

"Yeah, well." She tried to shrug casually. "I'm always right."

Harry gave her one last smile as he and the rest of the Gryffindor team were carried over to the stands, where Dumbledore stood, waiting with the enormous Quidditch Cup.

Nova watched with a placid smile as a sobbing Wood passed Harry the Cup. If the things she had been seeing in her ...visionswere correct—and she was starting to believe theywere—happy moments like this weren't going to be very common anymore.

Chapter 15: xii. Loyalty Tests

Chapter Text

━━━━━GRYFFINDOR WINNING THEQuidditch match sent waves of glee for a week straight. Even the weather seemed to be celebrating; as June approached, the days became cloudless and sultry, and all anybody felt like doing was strolling onto the grounds and flopping down on the grass with several pints of iced pumpkin juice, perhaps playing a casual game of Gobstones or watching the giant squid propel itself dreamily across the surface of the lake.

As happy as Nova was about the weather (it was a blessing for sunny weather in a place like Scotland, of course), it was only painful that she couldn't truly enjoy it. Oh, the irony. Blissful summer weather, and they were stuck inside the stuffy castle walls of Hogwarts to study for upcoming exams.

Exams were nearly upon them, and instead of lazing around outside, the students were forced to remain inside the castle, trying to bully their brains into concentrating while enticing wafts of summer air drifted in through the windows. Even Fred and George Weasley had been spotted working; they were about to take their O.W.L.s(Ordinary Wizarding Levels). Percy Weasley was getting ready to take his N.E.W.T.s(Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests), the highest qualification Hogwarts offered. As Percy hoped to enter the Ministry of Magic, he needed top grades. He was becoming increasingly edgy, and gave very severe punishments to anybody who disturbed the quiet of the common room in the evenings; that included kicking Nova out of the Gryffindor common room permanently until exams were over.

But the only person who seemed more anxious than Percy Weasley was Hermione Granger. Nova pitied her friend, wondering how in the world Hermione was surviving with the amount of classwork laid out in front of her. But she knew better than to ask—she'd love to keep her head on her neck, after all. And it wasn't like Nova was easily strolling through this exam season, either. In fact, Nova was having ahorribletime studying.

The only thing she found herself finding slightly less than horrible was Care of Magical Creatures(and by extension, Defense Against the Dark Arts since they often talked about dangerous creatures). And with the headaches Transfiguration class caused Nova, she didn't dare to look at the textbook. She would ask Cedric Diggory for help but he was surely busy with all his exams, so Nova didn't even bother. And then there was the class Divinations.

Nova didn't even want to think of Divinations. She would surely scream so loudly everyone in the Hogwarts Castle would hear her.

She ended up spending most of her days in the library with Ernie, Justin, and Hannah, all doing their best to help where the others lacked; Justin was great at Charms, Hannah was wonderful at Herbology, and Ernie pretended to be great at Potions. What was Nova's specialty ...? Divinations. Luckily, no one asked since none of her friends had taken it with her.

Emile often found the four studying away, stopping by to help Nova with Transfiguration.

("How the hell did you mess up that badly?" he asked, snickering.

"What?! It's totally normal for the eyes to end up there the first time!" Nova flushed, waving her wand around.

"... There aren't supposed to be no eyes atall, Nova.")

When she wasn't studying(or defending her horrible skills at Transfiguration to Emile—and Cedric Diggory, too), Nova tried to spend her time outside. Of course, it felt like a losing battle, but attempts were still made.

She gathered up her books, stuffing her Transfiguration textbook inside, papers with notes jotted down poking out. "I've got to get out," she told her friends. "This library's about to snuff me."

Ernie snorted and waved her off. "We'll join you in a little, Nova!" he promised as she made her way out of Hogwarts' library.

Nova left, schoolbag and a yapping Care of Magical Creatures book in hand. She slammed the book closed, wrapping her belt over it to keep it shut. When the yapping stopped, she vaguely heard a voice call down the hallway.

"Miss Holloway!" the voice called again.

Nova stopped and turned, tucking the book under her arm. She was surprised to find her sandy-haired professor walking toward her. Nova glanced around, asking, "Professor Lupin? Do you need something?"

He's going to ask about the dog,that anxious voice inside her head asked. That anxious voice sounded a bit too much like her own.He must've noticed something's off with me.

Lupin smiled at her weakly. "Nothing's wrong, Nova," he promised, a bit awkward. "I just wanted to know if you have the time to have a chat. I know it's exam season and all, but I promise I won't take too much of your time."

Nova smiled painfully. "Take time away from study? I'm looking for any reason."

For anyreason except for talking to you about my boggarts and Professor Trelawney,her mind hissed.

Professor Lupin gave a weak laugh. "Come with me."

Nova trailed after him, noticing how frail he looked. His old tweed jacket seemed to be hanging off his frame. "Professor?" she spoke up as they walked. "Are you alright? You look rather ... pale."

Professor Lupin didn't look surprised by her question. "It's nothing to worry about, Nova. I've just gotten a bit sick." He coughed, herding Nova up a flight of stairs. The way to his office, she remembered. "How are your classes going?"

Nova's eye twitched at the mention. "My classes? They're, uh, going."

Lupin smiled. "I've heard from Hagrid you're a star student of his."

"It's not hard," she said. "I mean, after Malfoy being the bit—" She paused, glancing at the professor. "Malfoy really shook Hagrid's confidence, is all. We've been given practically the most boring creatures in existence after that. I was really looking forward to it, but ..." She shrugged. "I've talked to Hagrid and he's given me some books for me to read. I've really enjoyed them."

"That's good," Lupin said, opening the door to his office and ushering Nova inside. "Have you thought about becoming a Magizoologist?"

"What's that?" Nova asked as she sat in front of Lupin's desk.

"The study of magical creatures," said Lupin, sitting down. "I think you'd be quite good at it. Of course, your curious nature shines in Defense, so I'm sure it would show itself in something like Care of Magical Creatures."

Nova shifted in her seat at the mention of Defense Against the Dark Arts. She wanted to steer the conversation away from that topic the best she could. "I've thought about any career, really—except for an Auror. I'd never be able to do it."

"I wouldn't count out becoming an Auror quite yet," Lupin said kindly. "You may shock yourself."

"Thanks, Professor," Nova said, "but I know myself."

Nova looked at Lupin's desk. It was as messy as any teacher's, but it looked decently organized for the mess. There were nick-nacks placed around, a weird prism thing, and a quill still placed inside an inkpot with several pieces of parchment around. She saw stacks of papers from Defense Against the Dark Arts, graded pieces and non-graded pieces. Nova resisted the urge to look through the stack to find her name and grade.

What caught her attention the most was a couple of picture frames on the desk. In both pictures, there seemed to be the same four boy, although the second one added a pretty redhead next to a boy with unruly black hair.

The first one was four boys in school uniforms. Nova easily recognized a young Lupin by the scars on his face back then. All four of the boys were dressed in Gryffindor robes—Lupin being the tallest of them all. Next to him was a stout boy with blond hair; he looked jittery, rubbing the edges of his fingers together with his thumbs, but he did his best to smile at the camera in front. And next to the second boy was a tall boy with lanky limbs and unruly black hair. He was attractive, Nova figured, as he ruffled his black hair and gave the camera a lopsided grin. His glasses were unskewed and he laughed at something the fourth and final boy said. Nova could read his lips, but she figured it was a joke. The fourth boy had long black hair; taken good care of, and styled nicely. He had a long face, but it didn't look worn down by any means. He had grey eyes that sparked with energy as he said something to the three beside him.

The second photo was after Hogwarts, but not by much. The four boys hadn't aged too much, maybe a year or so. They were all wearing suits, and the boy with unruly black hair and glasses kept fixing it like he was nervous. The fifth person in this photo was a gorgeous redhead who wore a white dress. Was this a wedding? Nova figured it had to be; the redhead was kissing the boy with the glasses' cheek.

"Who are these people?" Nova asked curiously. "If you don't mind me asking, professor."

Lupin smiled. "I don't mind. That's me, of course," he pointed to himself in the photo where he and his friends were wearing Gryffindor robes. "That's—Peter—"

"Pettigrew?" Nova broke in. "The one—" She stopped herself, pursing her lips. "Sorry. But ...isthat Peter Pettigrew?"

Lupin sighed. "Yes, it is."

Nova licked her lips, pointing to the third boy. "And that is?"

"You don't recognize him?" Lupin prompted. "He looks a lot like Harry."

Nova glanced at the teacher. "That's Harry's father?"

She figured she should've seen the resemblance; they were practically twins.

"James Potter." Lupin nodded. "And this is Harry's mother, Lily." He pointed to the second photo, to the redhead kissing James's cheek. Nova had been right; that was James and Lily Potter's wedding.

"Who's this?" Nova asked, pointing to the long-haired boy beside James.

Lupin was quiet for a moment—

"That's Sirius Black."

Nova looked up at the professor. "That'sSirius Black?"

Lupin smiled coldly. "Looks quite different than the pictures inDaily Prophet."

"You were friends with Sirius Black?" she asked.

"At one point in time," said Lupin vaguely.

Nova watched him for a moment, remembering what she had overheard in The Three Broomsticks during Christmas Break. Of course he didn't want to talk about Sirius Black; Black had betrayed his friends for Voldemort and gave away James and Lily Potter's secret.

"Right, um—" Nova swallowed, sitting up in her seat. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Professor Lupin rearranged his desk, sweeping off the bits of parchment away into a drawer. "Defense Against the Dark Arts."

sh*t,Nova thought to herself.

"I noticed after the boggarts, you took more of a backseat in the class," Lupin pointed out. "I was afraid I overstepped a boundary talking to you about your boggarts."

Nova wrung her hands. "It's not that, Professor. I mean—all that talk of the Grim with Trelawney, I—I guess it scared me just enough that I saw it for a boggart."

"And the darkness," Lupin prompted.

Nova looked off. That was harder to explain. Say she was afraid of the dark? Well, Nova had accidentally admitted to Lupin she hadseenthings inside that darkness—the Grim, a full moon, a hoard of dementors, and then a dusty room. How could she explainthataway?

"What do you think the darkness meant, Nova?" Lupin implored, leaning forward slightly as he asked.

"I can't just say I'm afraid of the dark?"

He watched her for a moment. "No," he answered plainly. "You told me you saw things within that darkness. But no one else could see anything."

She leaned back in her seat, shrugging. "I ... dunno. None of what I saw makes any sense. And when I saidRiddikukusand a mirror appeared showing me, I thought it was just—strange. I mean, that's strange, isn't it?"

"It's not—common," said Lupin.

"So strange," Nova supplied.

He gave her a look. "Perhaps the mirror means you have to solve something."

"Solve what?" she asked. "Am I supposed to face the Grim head-on? That thing would use me like a chew toy."

"Perhaps in another way," he said. He clasped his hands together, leaning back in his seat. "I also wanted to ask if you spoke with Professor Trelawney. I know you have a class with her this year. She talks about you often."

"All horrible things, I'm sure," Nova grumbled. "Um—yeah. I spoke to Trelawney once. Won't do it again."

"Did it go horribly?" the professor asked.

"Thatandworse," she grumbled. "Told me I was mad. If anything,she'smad."

"Don't take Trelawney to heart, Nova," he advised. "She can be ... overwhelming at times." He gave her a tight-lipped smile, mostly to be polite. "I think I've taken enough time from you today. It's best if you go back to studying. If you have any questions, you know you can always ask me."

Nova rose, and stared at him for a moment, her eyes drifting over to a piece of parchment still on the desk.Marauder's Map,it read.Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and—

Before she could read much further, Lupin swept the parchment away, stuffing it inside a drawer. His smile turned more painful. "See you soon, Miss Holloway."

That was code forGet out.

Nova heeded and left the office, glancing over her shoulder at where theMarauder's Maphad been.

Padfoot, the name rang in her mind.

✴

Exams were the worst thing to ever be invented. And whoever invented them, Nova had a serious vendetta toward them. She hoped they were having a horrible afterlife—whateverafterlife was out there.

Care of Magical Creatures was exactly as Nova expected. Hagrid was too afraid for Buckbeak to think of anyrealexam to give the students. But the "exam" gave her and the others time to talk to him.

"Beaky's gettin' a bit depressed," Hagrid told the four, bending low on the pretense of checking that Harry's flobberworm was still alive. "Bin cooped up too long. But still ... we'll know day after tomorrow—one way or the other—"

And then there was Potions the next afternoon, which wasn't as horrible as she feared. Besides nearly cutting off Hannah's finger, the two managed to make a mediocre Confusing Concoction. It was so mediocre that Snape couldn't find anything to complain about; only he could sniff with disdain and sweep away. Nova considered it a success. Then came Astronomy at midnight, up on the tallest tower. Nova didn't mind the student's tired silence as they worked away. She always liked Astronomy and the study of stars. History of Magic hours later on Wednesday morning; Nova found herself bullsh*ting her way through a scroll over the Witch Hunts. Shehadtried to pay attention, but the prospects of lunch or sleeping were much more fun to think about.

Herbology happened that same afternoon, in the greenhouses under a baking-hot sun. Nova was glad to get out and go back to the Hufflepuff common room, almost glad she only had two more exams left until she was free.

(That was if she passed her exams, of course.)

Her second to last exam, on Thursday morning, was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Lupin had compiled the most unusual exam any of them had ever taken; a sort of obstacle course outside in the sun, where they had to wade across a deep paddling pool containing a grindylow, cross a series of potholes full of Red Caps, squish their way across a patch of marsh while ignoring misleading directions from a hinkypunk, then climb into an old trunk and battle with a new boggart.

Nova gave the professor a dirty look for having to go against a boggart, but she just huffed and went on her way.

She did end up seeing the Grim for a boggart; snarling and barking at her, and Nova winced with each bark, but she raised her wand and managed to cry (seriously—cry), "Riddikulus!" and the Grim was wearing roller skates. The Grim struggled to stay on all four legs as Nova hastily climbed her way out of the trunk.

She brushed down her bangs to busy herself as Lupin said, "Excellent, Nova! Full marks."

"That's great," Nova said. "I'm never doing that again."

Lupin smiled. "Did you see the dog?"

"Roller skates," she replied. "My dad wrote me a letter about roller skating once and I thought it was funny."

She tried to wait for her friends, but they told her to go ahead since they were going to be there for a while. While Nova was making her way back toward the castle, she spotted Harry, Hermione, and Ron; Hermione looked like she had tears in her eyes.

Nova frowned and caught up with them. "What's wrong?" She gave Harry and Ron suspicious looks, but they raised their hands in anWe are innocentmanner.

"My boggart!" Hermione wailed. "Professor McGonagall said I failedeverything!"

Nova blinked. "Don't be daft, Hermione. You would never fail anything. Don't worry!"

Hermione was ready to reply, but Harry spoke up; "What was your boggart, Nova?"

She frowned at him. "It was nothing I couldn't handle."

"But what was it?" he insisted.

Ron and Hermione glanced between them nervously, looking quite tense. Nova's steps quickened, and she snapped, "A dog. What? You're gonna laugh?"

"A dog," Harry repeated. "Whatkindof dog?"

"One with four legs, two eyes, a tail, and in dire need of a groom," quipped Nova. "Is that good enough for you, Potter?"

Before anyone could respond, words died on lips at the sight that met the four at the top of the steps. The sight made a terrible feeling settle in the bottom of Nova's stomach.

Cornelius Fudge, sweating slightly in his pinstriped cloak, was standing there staring out at the grounds. He started at the sight of Harry. "Hello there, Harry!" he said. "Just had an exam, I expect? Nearly finished?"

"Yes," said Harry.

The other three hung back awkwardly, not on speaking terms with the Minister of Magic. Nova nudged Hermione in the ribs, asking, "Since when was Harry good ol' pals with theMinister of Magic?"

"Since the old bat let Harry's punishment for blowing his aunt up," Ron whispered to her.

Nova's eyes widened. "Harry did what?

"Lovely day," said Fudge, casting an eye over the lake. "Pity ... pity ..."

He sighed deeply and looked down at Harry.

"I'm here on an unpleasant mission, Harry. The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures required a witness to the execution of a mad hippogriff. As I needed to visit Hogwarts to check on the Black situation, I was asked to step in."

"Does that mean the appeal's already happened?" Ron interrupted, stepping forward.

"No, no, it's scheduled for this afternoon," said Fudge, looking curiously at Ron.

"Then you might not have to witness an execution at all!" said Ron stoutly. "The hippogriff might get off!"

Before Fudge could answer, two wizards came through the castle doors behind him. One was so ancient he appeared to be withering before their very eyes; the other was tall and strapping, with a thin back mustache. Nova gathered that they were representatives of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, because the very old wizard squinted toward Hagrid's cabin and said in a feeble voice, "Dear, dear, I'm getting too old for this ... Two o'clock, isn't it, Fudge?"

The black-mustached man was fingering something in his belt; Nova looked and saw that he was running one broad thumb along the blade of a shining axe. She went green as Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione nudged him hard in the ribs and jerked her head toward the entrance hall.

"Why'd you stop me?" said Ron angrily as they entered the Great Hall for lunch. "Did you see them? They've even got the axe ready! This isn't justice!"

"Ron, your dad works for the Ministry, you can't go saying things like that to his boss!" said Hermione, but she too looked very upset. "As long as Hagrid keeps his head this time, and argue his case properly, they can't possibly execute Buckbeak ..."

"It's not right, what those old bats are doing," Nova said hotly, frowning down at Hagrid's hut. "They're assuming everything. I bet they won't even listen to Hagrid."

She shuffled over to the Hufflepuff table, wanting to do her best to escape until her next exam—Divinations. Nova could say she tried to enjoy lunch, but with worrying about Hagrid, Buckbeak, and her last exam with Trelawney, she had a hard time.

Her friends noticed and sent her sympathetic looks as she departed for Divinations.

"You'll do great!" Hannah insisted as Nova rubbed at her forehead, a headache coming up.

Nova had a feeling that she would dotoowell on this exam.

She met up with Harry and Ron in front of the spiral staircase to Professor Trelawney. Many of their classmates were sitting on the stairs, trying to cram in a bit of last-minute studying.

"She's seeing us all separately," Neville informed them as they went to sit down next to him. He had his copy ofUnfogging the Futureopen on his lap at the pages devoted to crystal gazing. "Have either of you ever seen anything in a crystal ball?" he asked them unhappily.

"Nope," said Ron in an offhand voice. He kept checking his watch; Nova knew that he was counting down the time until Buckbeak's appeal started.

Nova shifted, tugging at the ends of her hair; a nervous habit. "You know the answer," she told Neville. "I don't seeanything."

Harry glanced at her. "I don't see anything, either."

The line of people outside the classroom shortened very slowly. As each person climbed back down the silver ladder, the rest of the class hissed, "What did she ask? Was it okay?"

But they all refused to say.

"She says the crystal ball's told her that if I tell you, I'll have a horrible accident!" squeaked Neville as he clambered back down the ladder toward Nova, Harry, and Ron, who had now reached the landing.

"That's convenient," snorted Ron. "You know, I'm starting to think Hermione was right about her"—he jabbed his thumb toward the trapdoor overhead—"she's a right old fraud."

"'Course she is," Nova grumbled, crossing her arms.

"Wish she'd hurry up ..." Harry sighed.

Parvati came back down the ladder glowing with pride. "She says I've got all the makings of a true Seer," she informed the three.

Nova shook her head in response. "'Dunno why you'd wantthat," she said cooly.

Parvati looked off-put, huffing angrily before walking down the stairs without another word.

"Don't need to be so mean," Harry chided. "Parvati's nice—enough."

"Well, that's great," Nova hissed, sending him an angry look. "But wanting to be a Seer is stupid. Seers aren't evenreal."

"Ronald Weasley," said the familiar, misty voice from over their heads.

Ron grimaced at Harry and Nova before climbing the silver ladder out of sight.

Harry sighed and sat on the floor, his back against the wall. For a moment, there was silence between him and Nova, and she listened to a fly buzzing against the sunny window.

Harry broke the silence; "What's got you so touchy about Seers and Divinations?"

Nova stiffened and shrugged. "Nothing. I just think it's a whole bunch of fraud."

Harry frowned at her. "But Neville says you see stuff all the time in class. He talks about how good you are."

"Forget it, Potter," Nova grumbled. "Neville's exaggerating. I'm horrible at Divinations."

"Trelawney loves you," he pointed out. "Talks about your aura and Inner Eye all the time."

"I don't have any of that," she insisted, gritting her teeth. "Now—drop it."

Before Harry could say anything else, Ron's large feet reappeared on the ladder.

Nova straightened, eager to change the topic. "How'd it go?" she asked him.

"Rubbish," said Ron. "Couldn't see a thing, so I made some stuff up. Don't think she was convinced, though ..."

"All of us are bound to fail this class, Ron, it's fine. Just wait for me here, would you guys?" Harry asked as Trelawney's voice called, "Harry Potter!"

✴

Nova felt like her name being called was a death sentence. She knew she was being a bit dramatic, but it was the truth.

Harry was oddly silent as he climbed down the ladder, looking almost scared. His face was flushed, and he looked like he was sweating. His hair was messy, reminding her of the photo she had seen of his father days prior. Expect, Harry wasn't smiling; not at all.

"Nova Holloway," Trelawney's misty voice called.

Ron sent her a sympathetic smile. "I'm going to the Gryffindor common room. Harry—you'll stay here?"

The black-haired boy didn't look like he wanted to agree, but he nodded.

"Well—thanks. Pray for me, then," the Hufflepuff grumbled to Ron and Harry before loudly climbing the ladder to the classroom.

The tower room was hotter than ever before; the curtains were closed, the fire was alight, and the usual sickly scent made Nova's chest hurt as she shuffled her way through the clutter of chairs and tables to where Professor Trelawney sat waiting for her before a large crystal ball.

Nova's mind flashed back to when she went to Trelawney for help, but only received the message ofAccept who you are—a Seer—or go mad.

"Welcome, my dear!" Professor Trelawney said softly, waving Nova closer. "If you would kindly gaze into the Orb ... Take your time, now, my dear ... then tell me what you see within it ..."

Nova clenched her jaw and bent over the crystal ball. She placed her hands on the table, knowing her nails were digging into the wood.

Fail me, please,she begged.Just don't let me See anything. No Grim, no weird tree thing, no dusty room, no nothing.

The universe was certainly against Nova. Slowly, the same way as before, she saw something building within the smoke of the crystal ball.

"Well?" Professor Trelawney prompted delicately. "What do you see?"

Nova sighed. "Something—something with limbs; branches, maybe? And—and something else; a dog."

Padfoot,that same man's voice yelled in her ear. Nova winced.

"TheGrim, my dear?" Trelawney insisted, her voice delighted at the idea of the bad omen. "Oh—I knew from the moment you walked into my classroom! You are a See—"

"A dog," Nove interrupted, her mind swamped as more voices started invading her mind. They were all different, and all insistent to tell her everything they deemed important enough to say aloud. Nova winced again as her headache tripled in a matter of seconds. "A dog, not the Grim," her voice was hazy; dreamy; as she spoke, "and the dog is—isbitingsomething. And then there's a dusty room, full of shredded furniture. Someone slammed into the wall; a spell did it."

Professor Trelawney looked ready to weep with joy, but a voice screamed in Nova's mind, louder than the rest. And it tumbled out of Nova's mouth before she could stop it; "His follower—the servant—will rejoin him. Tonight. After so long; twelve long years of waiting."

Nova clenched her hands, digging her nails into her palms. Her knuckles turned white and her hands shook. Her head pounded, and her eyes filled with tears. "There's so many things inside my head, Professor. It hurts. My head pounds—it hurts. It feels like my head's about to explode. I'm so tired; I just want it tostop."

"It's okay, my dear," Professor Trelawney said softly; her voice was almost caring,kindin a way. She didn't look excited anymore, she looked sympathetic, like she knew what Nova was going through. "Let it out. The voices will be done once you let them speak."

But Nova didn't want to let them speak; she wanted them to find someone else to use as a vessel. She didn't want to believe Trelawney; she didn't want to believe that she was ... that she was a Seer. Nova wasn't a girl of fact and logic, but she was a girl who could recognize when something was f*cking strange, and being a Seer wasf*cking strange. She just wanted to be Nova.

But the voice didn't give a damn what she wanted. They grew louder and louder, screaming to be heard. They would rip her brain apart if she didn't let them out, so—

Nova let them out.

The words tumbled out of her mouth so fast even she wasn't able to comprehend what she was saying. Images flashed across her mind; the full moon, a hoard of dementors, a dusty room filled with destroyed furniture, that map Lupin hid from her, that picture of him and his friends, and the Grim snarling at her. Thoughts and fears tumbled out of her mouth like a gushing wound; every syllable of words was like rain pouring into a lake filled with every fear and regret Nova knew. She felt like water was gushing around her, ready to rise and drown her—

And then it stopped. Just like that. The rain halted and the water stopped rising. Nova felt like she could breathe, even though she felt like there were thirty pounds of rocks on her chest. Her throat was hoarse, and her head pounded. Nova's chin quivered as tears crawled their way down her face; tears of stress, fear, and exhaustion.

Slowly, she looked at Trelawney, who blinked at her. She didn't look aghast, or offended, or gleeful; even she seemed shocked by Nova.

Trelawney took a breath before asking, "Nova, my dear, what have you been experiencing? More dreams? Trouble sleeping?"

Nova stared at her blankly. This wasnotthe time to be talking about sleep. "... Yes," she admitted. "Why?"

"When you sleep, do you see nightmares? Thoughts? Visions?"

"Why are you asking this?" Nova demanded hotly. "I've told you; I'mnota Seer!"

"Do you truly believe what you say, Nova?" Trelawney leaned forward. "We both know. You need to understand; toaccept! You will understand soon—you must!Sooner than you will like, as someone you call a friend turns into foe,you will understand."

Nova stared. Goosebumps raised along her arms. She stood, her chair loudly scraping against the floor. "Do I pass?" she demanded. "I saw something in that blasted crystal ball."

Professor Trelawney watched her carefully. "Full marks, my dear."

"Thanks." Nova turned on her heels and started to march off.

"I'm sure you've been having some of Poppy's dreamless sleep potion," Trelawney spoke up as Nova neared the ladder to leave. "But I have my own. I ...foreseethat you will need it. Come see me later."

Nova's stomach dropped, but she steeled her nerves the best she could and scowled at the Divinations professor. "Thanks,Professor, but I'll just have Madam Pomfrey's."

"I See you'll be changing your mind soon, my dear Nova."

"Oh, I'm sure you doSee."

✴

Nova hurried down the ladder so fast she nearly fell off it. Harry stared at her grimly, like he knew something she didn't.

"What happened?" he asked her as she stormed down the hallway. He jogged to keep in time. "Are you okay?" He didn't sound bitter, or upset, or mad, and that almost made her hopeful for someone else to confide in.

Nova only shook her head. "Nothing," she said. "Just Trelawney's normal bullsh*t. Talked about the Grim and—"

"You saw the Grim?" Harry interrupted.

"I didn't say that!" she protested.

"You've been seeing the Grimall year!" Harry pointed out. "As your boggart, at the Quidditch match when the dementors showed up, in your teacup during Divinations."

Nova skidded to stop in the corridor. Harry stopped with her, and she only stared at him for a silent minute. "Hermionetold you." Her voice was angry and shaking; full of betrayal.

Harry shifted. "Well ... me and Ronmadeher tell us."

"Doesn't matter," she hissed. "Is that why Hermione wanted to talk to me? Thought I was just some crazy Seer—like Trelawney?"

"It's not that," he insisted, "but ... are you really a Seer?"

Nova glared at him. Her jaw ticked as she looked forward and started walking away. "No, I'm not."

The Gryffindor rolled his eyes. "That's bullsh*t, Nova, and you know it. Trelawney always talks about your aura, and this Inner Eye thing I really don't understand, and—"

"Stop it!" Nova snapped. "I'm not a Seer! Trelawney'swrong. How many times do I have to say that?"

Harry watched for a moment, but then snapped, "Forget it, Nova. Ron came to tell me — Hagrid lost. They're executing Buckbeak."

✴

Nova wanted to scream. At anyone. At anything. At a certainHermione Granger.

A scream bubbled in her throat as she stomped up the staircase to the Gryffindor common room. She told the Fat Lady the password as Harry hurried after her. She was too blinded by anger and betrayal to stop and care about the upset on Ron and Hermione's faces.

Nova's anger built as she thought about the times Hermione had cried to her about how much of assholes Harry and Ron were being; thinking about all the time spent helping Buckbeak and Hagrid; the time Nova confided in Hermione about the dreams, visions, and nightmares. Hermione let Nova cry and sob in fear of being like Trelawney, in fear of being a Seer. Nova confided in Hermione about the letter, something Nova told Hermione that she knew people were sick of hearing about. To say she felt betrayed would be an understatement. She knew Hermione wasn't in the House for loyalty, but she thought Hermione might have a shred in her body. But Nova had thought wrong.

"You f*cking told them?" she demanded, stopping in front of Hermione and Ron. She was lucky that the Gryffindor common room was empty. "I trusted you, and you f*cking told the two who made you cry formonths? Do you not have ashredof loyalty? I went to you in confidence about something that was terrifying me, and you f*cking told—them." She motioned angrily and Harry and Ron, both of whom watched in shock.

Hermione's expression had seemed glad to see Nova, perhaps to ask about her Divination exam, but it dropped when Nova's voice angrily rang across the common room. She mouthed for a moment, and then said, "I didn't mean to! I had to tell them. I was worried—"

"Worried?" Nova barked, scoffing with disbelief. "If you were soworried, Hermione, you come talk tome. Not Ron; not Harry. Me! Don't f*cking lie and say you were worried after promising me to not tell anyone!"

"Okay—I toldthem," Hermione admitted. Soon, she hastily added, "But I didn't tell anyone else—"

"You still toldsomeone!" Nova said angrily. "I kept everything you told me a secret. You know why? 'Cause I respected you. I respected the fact you were going through a hard time, and that it wasn't my place to tell. You didn't give any of the respect I gave you—the respect I gave you as afriend. Instead, you meandered off to tell them about what I told you!"

Hermione was in tears. Ron and Harry seemed shocked into silence.

Good,part of Nova thought.I don't want to talk to them—to any of them.

All three of them looked her straight in the face, knowing they knew some of her deepest secrets. How could they just do that? Did Nova just wear her heart on her sleeve too much to do that? Or was she just stupid and blind for a new friend to believe Hermione Granger would keep her secrets?

Nova swallowed, doing her best to swallow her anger. "I'm mad. I mean—I'mupset. The only way I'll hear anything out of any of your mouths is if you tell the truth—and I mean thefulltruth. Not some half-baked truth you want to use to get on my good side."

Hermione nodded quickly, naïvely thinking this would save her and Nova's friendship.

"Okay ..." Nova looked between the three, her expression daring them to lie. "Why were you staring earlier this year?"

"Because of the dementors," said Hermione quickly. "After you and your friends entered our compartment saying you had passed out. We didn't think of it much then, honestly. Then in Divinations, you talked about Harry's cup, saying it was 'just a dog'. Then Neville told us about how he saw a Grim in your teacup and that you saw your boggart as a Grim—"

"How did Neville know about that?" Nova demanded, her brows furrowing. "About the boggart."

"He said he heard you talking about it to your friends," said Hermione. "After that, we were just wondering. We thought you might know something—but you don't, we know that now!" she added hastily.

Nova sent the three a nasty look. "So that's why you talked to me at Hogsmeade, Granger? You were playing detective all this time?"

Hermione nodded. Nova wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. She felt played, like a fool. "So why? Why do any of this? Did you fake that argument with those two?" She jerked her head over to Ron and Harry.

Don't be stupid, Nova,she chided herself.The world doesn't revolve around you. You're not that important.

"No, no!" Hermione shook her head. "That was real—the argument. And after you comforted me, at first—only at first—I was trying to find out about stuff. But I realized you really weren't hiding anything. I was genuinely your friend. I liked hanging around you."

"Doesn't matter now. You got what you wanted anyways," Nova said resentfully, crossing her arms over her chest. "Doesn't matter if youliked my companyor some other bullsh*t. I poured my heart out to you; I told you something I had told no one else, and then you f*cking ratted me out. Did you tell them everything? Or just tell them what they wanted to know?"

Hermione was silent for a moment, and then said, "Everything."

"You liked hanging around me or not," Nova said angrily, waving her hands around. The three watched her carefully, perhaps watching to see if she would swing at one of them. "You still betrayed my trust, Granger. And for what? 'Cause you think I'm some—Seer?"

"But youare, Nova!" Hermione insisted, simply unable to help herself. "Youarea Seer! Nobody else had visions of Sirius Black standing over someone's bed and finding out it was true!"

Nova shook her head.Just deny it, she told herself.That's what you've been doing.

But how well has it been working for you?a voice argued back.

Stupid voice of reason.

"Nobody constantly dreams of a dog—a dog—"

"I don't give a damn what you think," Nova interrupted, her voice scathing. "But I know damn well afriend"—she practically spat the word out—"wouldn't divulge my secrets to the world. You lied to me —for months. You're no friend of mine, Granger."

Hermione was crying. "You can't just say that, Nova."

"Yes, I can," she carried on coldly. "I just did."

"Nova," Harry spoke up, "that was cruel. Apologize—"

"Don't tell me what to do, Potter," Nova snapped at him. "Would you like it if she told me all your secrets? I don't think you would." She looked at Hermione, saying; "You feel bad now, but did you ever have any guilt telling them? Doesn't matter if you did, s'pose. Can't change it." She looked at Harry and Ron. "I'm going down to Hagrid's whether you like it or not. If you don't let me, I'll tell everyone what you're doing."

Hermione stood, wiping at her tears. "I'll—I'll get the Invisibility Cloak ..." She turned to Harry and asked, "The One-Eyed Witch, right?"

"Tap it and say, 'Dissendium'," said Harry.

As Hermione walked off, crying, the guilt started to show its ugly head to Nova. She shook it away. She had never done anything like that, but it was well deserved. Hermione betrayed her, and she lied to Nova —for months.

✴

The guilt only became worse. Nova was starting to feel like the biggest asshole on the planet.

She didn't tell anyone, simply trying to laugh along as Ernie said something stupid. She knew what they would tell her;We get you're upset, but you shouldn't have taken your anger out on them. That's not fair.

Screw fair if they betray you first.

... Even if Nova thought her friends might just be right.

Dinner finished quickly that night, but Nova didn't follow her housemates to the Hufflepuff common room. She walked out to the entrance hall, where the three were waiting for her. Hermione's face was puffy and her eyes were red; Harry and Ron looked guilty, too, but even looked angry. Nova fought the urge to roll her eyes. How angry could they be if they treated Hermione like sh*t first?

"Okay," Hermione whispered as Nova slunk over, "no one there—Cloak on—"

Walking very close together so that nobody would see them, the four crossed the hall on tiptoe beneath the Cloak, and then walked down the stone front steps into the grounds. The sun was already sinking behind the Forbidden Forest, gilding the top branches of the trees.

They reached Hagrid's cabin and knocked. He was a minute in answering, and when he did, he looked all around for his visitor, pale-faced and trembling.

"It's us," Harry hissed. "We're wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off."

"Yeh shouldn've come!" Hagrid whispered, but he stood back, and they stepped inside. Hagrid shut the door quickly and Harry pulled off the Cloak.

Hagrid was not crying, nor did he throw himself upon their necks. He looked like a man who did not know where he was or what to do. This helplessness was worse to watch than tears. "Wan' some tea?" he said. His great hands were shaking as he reached for the kettle.

Nova reached over. "Let me do it, Hagrid," she said quietly, moving to get the kettle. Maybe it was to keep her hands busy and to stop herself from watching Hermione's face.

"Where's Buckbeak, Hagrid?" asked Hermione hesitantly.

"I—I took him outside," said Hagrid, spilling milk all over the table as he filled up the jug. "He's tethered in me pumpkin patch. Thought he oughta see the trees an'—an' smell fresh air—before—"

Hagrid's hand trembled so violently that the milk jug slipped from his grasp and shattered all over the floor.

"I'll do it, Hagrid," said Hermione quickly, hurrying over and starting to clean up the mess.

"There's another one in the cupboard," Hagrid said, sitting down and wiping his forehead on his sleeve. Nova reached over and laid out the cup silently.

"Isn't there anything anyone can do, Hagrid?" Harry asked fiercely, sitting down next to him. "Dumbledore—"

"He's tried," said Hagrid. "He's got no power ter overrule the Committee. He told 'em Buckbeak's all right, but they're scared ... Yeh know what Lucius Malfoy's like ... threatened 'em, I expect ... an' the executioner, Macnair, he's an old pal o' Malfoy's ... but it'll be quick an' clean ... an' I'll be beside him ..."

Hagrid swallowed. His eyes were darting all over the cabin as though looking for some shred of hope or comfort. "Dumbledore's gonna come down while it—while it happens. Wrote me this mornin'. Said he wants ter—ter be with me. Great man, Dumbledore ..."

"Buckbeak doesn't deserve this," Nova sympathized, giving Hagrid a sad look. "And neither do you, Hagrid. Dumbledore tried, and that's what matters. But it's all Malfoy's fault."

"We'll stay with you too, Hagrid," Hermione began.

But Hagrid shook his shaggy head. "Yeh're ter go back up ter the castle. I told yeh, I don' wan' yeh watchin'. An' yeh shouldn' be down here anyway ... If Fudge an' Dumbledore catch yeh out without permission, Harry, yeh'll be in big trouble."

Silent tears were now streaming down Hermione's face, but she hid them from Hagrid, bustling around making tea. Then, as she picked up the milk bottle to pour some into the jug, she let out a shriek.

"Ron, I don't believe it—it's Scabbers!"

Ron gaped at her. "What are you talking about?"

Hermione carried the milk jug over to the table and turned it upside down. With a frantic squeak, and much scrambling to get back inside, Scabbers the rat came sliding out onto the table.

"Scabbers!" said Ron blankly. "Scabbers, what are you doing here?"

He grabbed the struggling rat and held him up to the light. Scabbers looked dreadful. He was thinner than ever, large tufts of hair had fallen out leaving wide bald patches, and he writhed in Ron's hands as though desperate to free himself.

"It's okay, Scabbers!" said Ron. "No cats! There's nothing here to hurt you!"

Hagrid suddenly stood up, his eyes fixed on the window. His normally ruddy face had gone the color of parchment. "They're comin' ..."

The four students whipped around. A group of men was walking down the distant castle steps. In front was Albus Dumbledore, his silver beard gleaming in the dying sun. Next to him trotted Cornelius Fudge. Behind them came the feeble old Committee member and the executioner, Macnair.

"Yeh gotta go," said Hagrid. Every inch of him was trembling. "They mustn' find yeh here ... Go now ..."

Ron stuffed Scabbers into his pocket and Hermione picked up the Cloak.

"I'll let yeh out the back way," said Hagrid.

They followed him to the door into his back garden. Nova felt strangely unreal, and even more so when she saw Buckbeak a few yards away, tethered to a tree behind Hagrid's pumpkin patch. Buckbeak seemed to know something was happening. He turned his sharp head from side to side and pawed the ground nervously.

"It's okay, Beaky," said Hagrid softly. "It's okay ..."

He turned to the four sadly. "Go on," he said. "Get goin'."

But they didn't move.

"Hagrid, we can't—"

"We'll tell them what really happened—"

"They can't kill him—"

"Go!" said Hagrid fiercely. "It's bad enough without you lot in trouble an' all!"

They had no choice. As Hermione threw the Cloak over Harry, Nova, and Ron, they heard voices at the front of the cabin. Hagrid looked at the place where they had just vanished from sight. "Go quick," he said hoarsely. "Don' listen ..."

And he strode back into his cabin as someone knocked at the front door. Slowly, in a kind of horrified trance, Harry, Ron, Nova, and Hermione set off silently around Hagrid's house. As they reached the other side, the front door closed with a sharp snap.

"Please, let's hurry," Hermione whispered. "I can't stand it, I can't bear it ..."

They started up the sloping lawn toward the castle. The sun was sinking fast now; the sky had turned to a clear, purple-tinged grey, but to the west, there was a ruby-red glow.

Ron stopped dead.

"Ron," Nova spoke up, her voice shaking, "comeon."

"It's Scabbers—he won't—stay put—"

Ron was bent over, trying to keep Scabbers in his pocket, but the rat was going berserk; squeaking madly, twisting and flailing, trying to sink his teeth into Ron's hand. "Scabbers, it's me, you idiot, it's Ron," the redhead hissed.

They heard a door open behind them and men's voices.

"Oh, Ron, please let's move, they're going to do it!" Hermione breathed.

"Okay, I get it—Scabbers, stayput—"

They walked forward. Nova's hands trembled more and more the further they walked. Despite every fiber in her being begging, she knew what was going to happen. Malfoy would win; bloody feathers would fall. She tried not to listen to the rumble of voices behind the four.

Ron stopped again. "I can't hold him—Scabbers, shut up, everyone'll hear us—"

The rat was squealing wildly, but not loudly enough to cover up the sounds drifting from Hagrid's garden. There was a jumble of indistinct male voices, a silence, and then, without warning, the unmistakable swish and thud of an axe.

Nova winced, and she sealed her eyes shut tightly. That was a sound that haunted her for weeks. "They did it," she croaked. "They killed him."