White Heather for Protection

Haunting Memories

The Hogwarts Express roared to life with a piercing whistle. Heather waved goodbye, chuckling when she saw Sirius jumping and waving his arms wildly. He'd been practically despondent when she and Rian left to board the train. She understood, of course. The summer was too short a reunion for his twelve-year separation. He'd made the most of it, taking them on frequent trips or inviting himself over to the Burrow while they were there.

Often, Professor Lupin had accompanied him and they would tell them numerous tales about their parents. The Professor (or Remus, as he'd asked to be called) had resigned at the end of the year due to the immense fatigue of having to cope with both his furry problem and the demanding job. It had been Sirius who persuaded him to do so. The main draw of the job had been the free Wolfsbane Professor Snape provided. Since Heather could actually brew the highly complex potion, it wasn't a necessity anymore. She agreed to brew it for Remus, provided Sirius bought the ingredients since they were restricted. Admittedly, she also agreed because she was aware of the heavy workload her Head of House had. This would free him of the additional duty.

Unfortunately, this left the DADA post open again. The first competent teacher they had had left. She just hoped Remus had set the bar for the future. If anything, the events of the Quidditch World Cup proved that they would need all the training they could get in defending themselves. She had the feeling that that wouldn't be the end of things. Voldemort was somehow emerging again. The time of relative peace was coming to an end.

Then there were all the cryptic comments the adults made about something happening in school this year. All she knew was that an exciting event would be held and that the Ministry was involved.

Someway, somehow, she knew that Hadrian would get himself tangled up in it, willingly or not. Such was his luck. They just couldn't catch a break, could they?

~~~

Heather glanced at the staff table as she ate her meal. She couldn't spy any new faces. Had the Headmaster not managed to find a new DADA teacher? She nodded as she caught Professor Snape's gaze, smiling when he subtly returned the gesture. An odd flutter of warmth had her turning away quickly. Shaking the feeling off, she turned towards the Gryffindor table. As usual, Fred and George were whispering deviously amongst themselves. She'd have to make sure they didn't go overboard with whatever mischief they were planning. Her gaze drifted to Hadrian, nodding in satisfaction when she saw that he was eating properly. The less she said about Ron's dining etiquette, the better. Hermione, as usual, was taking the occasional bite of food while she read a thick tome.

Heather knew that Hermione had the tendency to neglect herself in the pursuit of academics. She was absolutely brilliant, but she'd coped poorly with her twelve subjects last year. Apparently, she'd been employing a time turner to attend all her classes! Imagine that! Professor McGonagall must have pretty good connections to pull that off. Fortunately, Heather had managed to persuade her to tone down a little. She had eventually dropped Muggle Studies and Divination.

Heather switched her attention to Professor Dumbledore when he stood to speak. He spouted the usual warnings about the Forbidden Forest and Mr Filch's list of restricted items. She was amused when he mentioned a few objects that she and FredGeorge had created. Then, he dropped a shocking piece of news. No Quidditch? She could hear Ron's loud complaints from here.

Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall slammed open. Gripping her wand, she turned, spells at the tip of her tongue. A bizarre-looking man stood at the doors. Dressed in tattered black robes, he skulked towards the staff table. As he moved closer, Heather saw that one of his eyes was replaced by a metal one. It rotated warily about the room, independent of the other one. It made for a creepy effect. The Headmaster stood and welcomed the man warmly, offering him a drink which he refused. Instead, the man withdrew a canteen and drank deeply from it.