Atropos → george weasley

xxxiv. potions under pressure

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thirty four

potions under pressure

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Early Sunday afternoon, Ottilie stood before the door to Professor Lupin's office. Already, she'd attempted to knock but lost her nerve twice.

The reason she was here in the first place was what George had told her: Lupin was helping Harry deal with his unusual response to dementors. And when she wasn't alone, when someone else was having the same problem as her, asking for help seemed less daunting. Maybe her experience didn't indicate something deeply wrong with her, and there was instead a simple explanation.

She imagined how relieved she would be if he told her that it was entirely normal for a dementor to warp reality. It was a genetic disposition to a particular sensitivity that Harry and Ottilie happened to share. A dementor allergy of sorts. Nothing more.

She reached up to knock on the door a few times and immediately regretted it.

It was possible it was a simple explanation. It was also possible it was not. Harry hadn't reacted to that diary the way she had—what reason did she have to assume that he'd reacted exactly the same way to the dementor?

Hopefully, Lupin wasn't in his office.

"Come in! Door's unlocked!"

Ottilie took a deep breath and turned the handle. Lupin was sitting behind his desk, a book open in front of him. On top of it, he was folding a piece of yellowed, old parchment paper. He placed it in the book to hold his place and closed it.

"Good afternoon, Miss van der Hoeven."

For a moment, Ottilie forgot what she was there for. She blinked her thoughts back and crossed the room to his desk. From inside its tank, Lupin's pet grindylow bared its fangs at her. Across her visits, Ottilie had taken to calling it Greg.

"Hey, Professor," she said and then nodded at the grindylow. "Hey, Greg." The grindylow flattened its hand against the glass as if to grab her.

"What can I do for you?" She noticed Lupin looked concerned.

She couldn't help it—she kept glancing at the parchment. It was precisely the size and color of the Marauder's Map. Of course, she couldn't be sure, but it was suspicious.

"Interested in the lethifold?" Lupin was studying her apprehensively, thumbing the edge of the parchment.

"Uh. Yeah," she said. "Well, sort of. They're related to dementors, right?"

"They are somewhat similar in their appearance. However, dementors feast on human souls, where lethifolds eat their victims whole."

Ottilie nodded, still distracted by the parchment. Why else would he be studying a piece of old parchment unless, one, it really was the Marauder's Map and, two, he knew there was something strange about it?

"You seem concerned. Have you encountered a dementor recently?"

If he knew how to work the map, and he'd been looking at it before she'd knocked on his door, that would mean he would've seen her dithering outside his office.

She hoped she didn't look as embarrassed as she felt.

"Well..." How would she explain how she'd encountered a dementor without admitting she'd been in the Forbidden Forest? However, if that was the map, it was possible he already knew. "I got close enough to one in Hogsmeade that it sort of had a bad effect on me."