"Petunia Evans," Lynn spat out, nostrils flaring along with her impatience for Dumbledore's calm demeanor. "You left my godson on the doorstep of Petunia bloody Evans?!"
This is a slight AU and a Sirius Black x Original Character
Split between the M...
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
Hogwarts July 30th 1987
Out of all the choices Lynn had made in her life, accepting Dumbledore's offer of a teaching position was decidedly not the greatest, but at the time she was rather desperate for anything to occupy her drowning mind.
It wasn't the actual teaching that made Lynn's life so miserable, but more so the subject she was meant to be the expert on (did anyone even have higher than a NEWT in the subject?). Teaching Arithmancy was endless rolls of parchment to grade and explaining magical mathematic concepts to a bunch of magical children who hadn't even heard of algebra. Subjecting teenagers to such pain felt illegal.
Okay, maybe she was exaggerating just a bit, but at least the pay was decent and the work was enough to keep her occupied, so she stayed. She guessed she would be able to nab the Transfiguration position once Dumbledore retired and McGonagall inevitably took the headmistress job, but who knew how long that would take.
Thank Merlin she stayed, because without her job she most likely wouldn't be as close to Hagrid as she was. If she wasn't friends with Hagrid, on Friday evenings she wouldn't be able to get piss drunk with him and Aurora Sinistra, the astronomy professor.
And if Hagrid hadn't finished two bottles of brandy by himself he probably would've been much more careful around Lynn when talking about Harry Potter.
Sinistra was already passed out on the table, arm hanging off of the rickety wooden table that her cheek was smushed against. Lynn was tucked into the astronomy professor's side, dark red hair slightly dishevelled and cheeks flushed from copious amounts of alcohol.
Hagrid sat slumped in the chair opposite her, mumbling the words of an old folk song with sadness shaking his voice. Hagrid had always been a sad drunk.
"It's little Harry's birthday tomorrow," Hagrid sobbed quietly.
Curiosity immediately sparked in Lynn's intoxicated mind, clearing away some of the fog she would otherwise welcome. Little Harry. She could remember vividly the last time she had seen her godson. His bubbling giggles when she made ridiculous faces at him and ruffled his wild, black hair. How he would immediately race to the door when she arrived at that house in Godric's Hollow, shouting her name in greeting. He couldn't pronounce his L's, Lynn reminisced, so her name always came out as, 'Wynn'.
That was two months before she had lost everything.
"Little Harry," Lynn exaggerated a sigh. Her face would've indicated to Hagrid that she was scheming, but unfortunately for the gentle giant, he was far too deep into the brandy to tell. "I wish I could see him again. It was heartbreaking the last time we saw him, right Hagrid?"
Lynn would feel guilt over manipulating Hagrid in his drunken state later on, because at that moment, Hagrid had forgotten that she was not permitted to know the whereabouts of Harry Potter. Dumbledore had absolutely forbidden it.
