In no time at all, Defense Against the Dark Arts had become most people's favorite class. Only Draco Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins had anything bad to say about Lupin.
"Look at the state of his robes," Malfoy would say in a loud whisper as Lupin passed. "He dresses like our old house elf."
But no one else cared that Lupin's robes were patched and frayed. His next few lessons were just as interesting as the first. After Boggarts, we studied Red Caps, nasty little goblin-like creatures that lurked wherever there had been bloodshed: in the dungeons of castles and the potholes of deserted battlefields, waiting to bludgeon those who had gotten lost.
From Red Caps we moved on to Kappas, creepy. water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.
However as good as a mood Lupin was in, Snape was in a particularly vindictive mood these days, and no one was in any doubt why. The story of the Boggart assuming Snape's shape, and the way that Neville had dressed it in his grandmother's clothes, had traveled through the school like wildfire. Snape didn't seem to find it funny. His eyes flashed menacingly at the very mention of Lupin's name, and he was bullying Neville worse than ever.
At least divination was a good laugh, Trelawney's enormous eyes filled with tears every time she looked at Harry. Although she did give me a wide breath, muttering something about a dark aura. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown had taken to haunting 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.
They had also started using hushed voices whenever they spoke to Harry, as though he were on his deathbed. Nobody really liked Care of Magical Creatures, which, after the action-packed first class, had become extremely dull. Hagrid seemed to have lost his confidence. We were now spending lesson after lesson learning how to look after flobberworms, which had to be some of the most boring creatures in existence.
These worms are almost as useless as mudbloods, at least these know their place
"Why would anyone bother looking after them?" said Ron, after yet another hour of poking shredded lettuce down the flobberworms' throats.
At the start of October, however, there was something more to occupy my time. Quidditch season was approaching, and Flint, our captain, was calling more and more practices.
The Gryffindor team was also training hard, and the pitch was almost always in use, often with one team replaced another only minutes after they had finished.
It was on one of these particular busy days that I went to the Gryffindor common room after I changed from practice to find it a buzz with activity. I was joined shortly by Harry who has just gotten back from his practice.
"What's happened?" I asked Ron and Hermione, who were sitting in two of the best chairs by the fireside and completing some star charts for Astronomy.
"First Hogsmeade weekend," said Ron, pointing at a notice that had appeared on the battered old bulletin board. "End of October. Halloween."
"Excellent," said Fred, who had followed Harry and me through the portrait hole. "I need to visit Zonko's. I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets."
"Speaking of which, we still on for tomorrow?" I asked Fred. We had planned to pelt with stink bombs when he left his office.
Harry threw himself into a chair beside Ron, as I took one next to Hermione.
"Harry, I'm sure you'll be able to go next time," she said. "They're bound to catch Black soon. He's been sighted once already."
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The Weasley of Slytherin: The Prisoner of Azkaban
Fanfiction(Y/n) Wesley, only in his third year has already been possessed by Lord Voldemort , and since then has been hearing his voice in his head every since then. And now going in to his third year how will he cope with this new burden, and what mischief...
