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EIGHTEEN STARTING LINE
🍒💌🕊
AS WINTER APPROACHES, everything at Hogwarts is as it should be.
It has been two weeks since the eventful Ravenclaw vs. Gryffindor quidditch match, and after a few visits to the Hospital Wing (courtesy of her sister's nagging), Zera's arm has healed nicely. Ina has written back to her mum without too much hassle—being very careful not to mention her sister, lest there be another incident. Her classes have been proceeding smoothly, and now that she is finally on good terms with Zera, she has found herself spending more time with not only her and Will, but (to her surprise and slight confusion), Lily, Remus, and Sirius too.
Nothing is out of place, Ina knows this, and yet—the week before the end of term, she can't help the sinking sensation that all of this is the calm before the storm.
If you were to ask her why, she probably wouldn't be able to explain it. in fact, usually the feeling is nothing more than a tickle in the back of her head, an afterthought that flashes through her mind for only a moment out of the day.
But—on the rare morning when she wakes from a particularly vivid dream, Ina can't help the cold feeling of dread that settles over her like an uncomfortable wet blanket.
It's on a morning like this that she finds herself in an exceptionally sour mood, in the library waiting for one Sirius Black to show up.
The night prior, Ina found her dreams plagued by a never ending loop of her falling off of the Astronomy tower, and although when she woke, she was safe and sound in her bed, she still hasn't been able to shake the feeling of her stomach dropping out from under her.
Her mood certainly isn't helped by the fact that, despite making plans with Sirius earlier this week to meet in the library on this fine Sunday morning and work through a good chunk of their partnered Herbology assignment, after an hour of waiting, he is nowhere to be found.
Ina isn't the type to get angry easily. Really—she can count on one hand the number of times she's been angry this year. But today, of all days, she can feel her irritation simmering under the surface.
And right as she is about to boil over, her lord and savior, Remus fucking Lupin appears in front of her, wearing a bright green cardigan and an even brighter smile on his face.
"'Lo, Ina. How are you?" He asks as he slides into the seat across from her, setting his bag on the ground beside him.
"I'm just peachy," Ina mutters, gripping the quill in her hand so tightly that she can feel the feathered edge crumple in her fist.
