Harry Potter and The Daughter of Sirius Black. [CedricxOc and DracoxOc]

Substitute Teacher & Fighting again.

Third Person's Point of View.

Arista had escaped the school grounds, her heart racing as she searched for her uncle. She spotted him near the Whomping Willow, a familiar sight, yet always intimidating. The massive tree twisted and swayed, its branches like long, gnarled arms ready to strike. With a practiced flick of her wand, she used the spell to transform him back into his human form. She then ushered him into the Shrieking Shack, moving swiftly through the tree's protective barrier. 

Inside, she had stashed a set of clothes—shrunken and neatly folded—within the folds of her robes. Remus lay on the dusty bed, wrapped in sheets like a cocoon. "Uncle, your clothes are on the piano if you need them," she reminded him gently. Silence filled the room for a moment. She turned to leave when a low growl echoed from the doorway, halting her in her tracks. A large dog stood there, muscles taut and eyes sharp. 

From his scent, she discerned he was male. He advanced slowly, his growl deepening. Instinct kicked in. Arista positioned herself between her uncle and the wolf, channeling a fierce determination. She lowered her stance, ready to defend Remus, poised to strike if the dog lunged. The male dog backed away slightly, reassessing. As he stepped into the light, she recognized him. 

A grin broke across her face. "Dad!" she exclaimed, launching herself at him. She wrapped her arms around him, laughter bubbling up despite the tension. "What are you doing here? It's dangerous! There are Dementors everywhere!" Sirius nodded, concern etched on his face. "I know about the Dementors, but I need something from the school." Arista's playful mood shifted as she hopped onto a stool by the piano, her brow furrowing in thought. "Help with what?"

He offered a faint smile, one that warmed her heart. "The man who killed the muggles twelve years ago is in the school. He framed me, and I can't get inside, but you can." Understanding dawned on Arista. "You mean Peter..." Sirius nodded solemnly. "I need you to find him." "I'll get him for you, Dad," she replied, determination igniting within her. He smiled again, a flicker of hope lighting his eyes as he kissed her forehead.

"What does he look like?" she asked, curiosity mixed with urgency. "A rat with a missing toe," he answered, his tone grave. She nodded, steeling herself for the task ahead. Before leaving, she approached Remus. He flinched as she reached for him, but she laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, wishing him well. Then, with a deep breath, Arista dashed out of the room, ready to confront the danger that lay ahead.

***

Defence Against the Dark Arts was set to be anything but ordinary. Arista already sensed that her uncle wouldn't be able to teach properly. The atmosphere in the classroom buzzed with chatter as students settled into their seats. When Professor Snape swept in, his presence silenced the room. Arista pulled out her notebooks and text, ready for the notes Snape was infamous for giving. She charmed her quill to prepare itself for the task. 

As Snape moved through the classroom, he waved his wand, slamming the outside shutters closed with a flick of his wrist. He reached the front of the room and unfurled a projector screen, his movements precise and deliberate. "Turn to page three hundred and ninety-four," he commanded, his voice cutting through the lingering murmurs. Arista and her classmates complied, books rustling as they flipped to the requested page.

She spotted Ron struggling with the pages, his fingers fumbling awkwardly. A quiet chuckle escaped her lips, knowing it was only adding to Snape's irritation. Meanwhile, Harry shifted closer to Snape as he walked the rows, his curiosity evident. "Sir, what about Remus?" he asked, his voice a mix of concern and eagerness. Arista felt a slight flinch at the mention of Remus, but she masked it with a calculated shiver. 

Snape's gaze flicked to her, sharp and assessing. "That's not really your concern, is it, Potter?" he replied, his tone icy. The tension in the room tightened. Arista knew Snape was subtly reminding them that their absent professor was part of the very subject they were studying. "Suffice it to say your professor finds himself incapable of teaching at the present time," Snape continued, his irritation simmering just beneath the surface. "Turn to page three hundred and ninety-four."

With a flick of his wand, the projector activated, his annoyance at Ron's slow page-turning evident. The book flipped open, and Ron blurted out, "Werewolves?" "Sir, we just learned about red caps and hinkypunks," Hermione interjected suddenly from a previously empty seat beside Harry. Her appearance startled both boys. Arista narrowed her eyes, annoyed by the disruption. "We're not meant to start that for weeks," she added, her voice steady.

"Quiet," Snape snapped, his patience clearly wearing thin. "When did she come in? Did you see her?" Ron whispered to Harry, bewildered. "Now, which one of you can tell me the difference between an Animagus and a werewolf?" Snape posed the question, stopping at Arista's desk. She glanced around, seeking a volunteer. Raising her hand, she answered confidently, knowing exactly what Severus was trying to do,

"An Animagus is a wizard who chooses to turn into an animal. A werewolf has no choice. Each full moon, he loses his memory. He could kill his best friend if they crossed paths. The werewolf only answers to its own kind and can be returned to human form with a simple Homorphus charm." Draco Malfoy imitated a howl, prompting laughter from Crabbe. Arista rolled her eyes, Draco had been doing so well, but little outburst like that ruined it. 

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. And you are correct, Ms. Gryffindor. But next time, allow someone who is not an expert to answer, please." Arista nodded and turned her focus back to her book, her thoughts racing. The lesson was just beginning, but the weight of their studies already felt heavy in the air.

***

At lunch, Arista sat at a table, picking absentmindedly at her meal. Worry consumed her. It felt like all she did was worry. She worried about Harry, Ron, and Hermione—the trouble magnets of her life. Their antics often spiraled into chaos that she saved them from. Then there was her family, tangled in their own messes. And finally, her ex boyfriend, Cedric, who seemed bent on courting danger. The weight of it all spun her thoughts into a dizzying blur.

"...sta?" A voice broke through her spiraling thoughts. "Arista?!" Blinking, she looked up to find Cedric standing before her. His usual warmth was absent. "Hello, Cedric," she replied, her tone colder than she intended. "You're still mad, aren't you?" he asked, his voice lacking the affection he usually reserved for her. He was still head over heels for her, but she couldn't see it. At least not right now.

He needed her to understand. This tournament mattered to him. It was a chance to prove his strength—not just to himself, but to her. He wanted to show he could protect her, that he could keep her safe. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for yelling," he said, his gaze steady. "I understand your worry, but I need to do this." Arista didn't move. Her chalcedony blue eyes held his gaze, unyielding. "Then you already know my answer."

His heart sank. "You know I believe in you. I always will. But I will not watch you try to kill yourself for a bloody tournament." With that, she gathered her things and left him standing there, alone in the now quiet mess hall. The air felt heavy with unspoken words, and the room now buzzed with the chatter of students who had seen the argument. Cedric felt his heart shatter as she walked away. 

The chatter around him felt deafening. He knew the risks, but he had hoped for her support. Now, all he felt was the weight of her disappointment.