Scratches (Fred Weasley)

(9) Practices Of Suffering

Professor Lupin was staring down at the three students whom he had brought to his office after catching them out of bed. His eyes lingered shortly at the house jumper that Florence wore before flickering his attention to the two known troublemakers, who simply smiled, "Good evening, Professor Lupin. Did you get a good rest?"

"Well, I did. Until your loud stomping and un stifled giggling had stirred me awake." he said. Florence couldn't tell if the Defense teacher was mad, or if he was thoroughly considering Detention in his head. He was wearing some sort of pleasant expression on his face that was nerve-wrenchingly hard to read.

"Are—Are you going to give us detention, Professor?" she squeaked anxiously, wanting to cut to the main agenda so that she could prepare herself. Professor Lupin looked at her thoughtfully, before grinning. "I would be nothing but a mere hypocrite if I did. Everyone snuck out of the dormitories for a night...or a couple more, during their youth. And I would also be lying if I told you that I didn't take part in such mischief."

Fred and George grinned, Florence feeling a bit relieved.

"Although I think that this is an entirely different case with Filch running through the echoing halls and screaming his lungs to exhaustion. Would you care to explain?" He asked kindly, setting teacups infront of each student, before pouring them a fair amount of brewed tea.

Florence looked at the two, who were nothing but calm.

"Well professor, Filch had something of ours—" "That he had accidentally took with him as he confiscated our stash of dungbombs—"

They handed him a blank parchment, the same one they had pulled out one of the drawers.

"George's Herbology essay is due tomorrow—er, today, since it's midday now. We thought that Mr. Filch might of have took George's essay, since it was missing. With the help of Price over here, we went back to get it, only to find out that he took a blank sheet of parchment instead." Fred explained.

Professor Lupin hardly believed the lie, but had encouraged Fred to go on. He looked at the parchment in familiarity, as if he knew what it was and what it could do, before hastily returning it to the redhead.

"So have you got any idea where George might of have dropped his essay?" He asked, half amused as he consumed his own cup of tea, Florence doing the same. She was a bit sleepy and something hot had sufficed her needs.

"I told them that it might of have been in one of the reference books that they borrowed from the Library. We ah— We were studying together, Fred—George and I. I tried telling them Professor, that it wasn't with Filch. But they wouldn't listen." Florence lied, her heart rate going drastically faster with every word she spoke.

"I understand, Miss Price." he nodded, Florence not all too convinced that he had bought the excuse.

But nevertheless he had let them off the hook, dismissing them out of his office as soon as they were finished with their cups of coffee. Fred and George walked Florence back to the Ravenclaw tower, feeling obliged after she had went along perfectly with their alibi.

"We owe you so much, Price." said George, Fred nodding in agreement.

"Yeah. Even a life's worth of peace wouldn't be enough."

Florence chuckled, "You two are exaggerating. And I didn't do it for any of you. I did it because I was worried that I might land myself in detention again."

"Well, even then, Price, we owe you."

"Goodnight, then." And with that, they parted ways, Florence slipping back into her dormitory room while the twins headed back to the Gryffindor tower.