The Sun and Her Moon- Remus Lupin

Children or Spawns of Hell?

There was melting, or burning— someone was burning.

Aveline awoke in a startled mess of sweat and a shrill scream, her breathe heavy. The sight of her Hufflepuff dorm room bought her great comfort, as she caught the sight of the yellow curtains from the corner of her eye.

It was okay.

It was just a dream and nothing more— a very vivid terrifying dream but a dream nonetheless.

The clock beside her told her it was six am, which though early was not an alarming time for her to wake up. Besides, there was no chance she dared sleeping again after that nightmare.

Being as quiet as possible as to not wake up her dorm mates, she creeped to the bathroom.

Flickering on the light she stepped infront of the mirror, letting out a large yawn. It was only when she began brushing her teeth, did she feel
something heavy in her pocket .

If it wasn't so early in the morning she would've screamed.

With shaky hands she set her toothbrush down, reaching in and pulling out a certain gem from the pocket of her pajamas shorts.

There was no way— this shouldn't have been possible. Yet here the necklace was— a necklace that she certainly did not put on last night— wrapped around her knuckles.

Though truthfully, Aveline Rosier was used to weird shit happening to her. Someone else might faint, or go screaming through the halls yelling that they were being haunted, but Aveline merely sighed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes before continuing on her day.
—————

As every student knows, some days just are not school days. Now that does not mean literally these
days are the days when there is no school.

These are the days when you have class and a list three parchment rolls long of tasks you should be doing, but you just can't bring your brain to want to do any of it.

One hour class seems to pass in centuries.

Aveline was sure by the time history of magic was over the day she had aged at least a dozen years .

It didn't help that for the group of seven years— this being their last year— the concept that they were so close yet so far away from the freedom of graduation did not help.

There were two types of students during this time.

There was Lily Evans we already began revising for finals even though it was February, and the likes of people such as Sirius Black, James Potter or Aveline Rosier who hadn't even opened most of their textbooks since the first week of classes.

"I swear," Aveline cursed as she clutched onto Sirius's arm, resting her head on the boys shoulder, "if I have to listen to Binn's monotone voice for another four months I'm not going to make it to graduation."

They were walking to defence against the dark arts,
their last class of the day.

If it wasn't defence, Aveline would've been attempted to skip. Between her, Remus, Sirius and Peter, the four had probably skipped a semesters worth of classes this year.

James not as much, the boy still taking his head boy duties rather seriously.

As they walked into class they were rather shocked to find their class already filled— with students who most definitely were not seventh year defence students.

These students were much smaller, first years no doubt, huddled in a corner of the room watching the seventh years stream in with awes full of hush whispers.