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ღ chapter eight ( flight of the fat lady )
THE DAY OF the Hogsmeade visit, a glum Juliet and Harry bid Hermione and Ron goodbye, as the latter two made their way down to what was supposed to be the highlight of the year. Instead, Juliet and Harry were stuck in the castle, walking up the stairs to the library, when Filch approached them, looking rather disheveled.
"Oh bloody hell," Jules whispered. It was a non-uniform day, so she was dressed in ripped stockings, a vintage slip dress she'd found in her mum's closet that was definitely a bit too big, and a jumper that seemed to swallow her. She looked like trouble, and she knew it, as she fumbled to make the pack of cigarettes in her pocket invisible.
"What are you two doing?" he scowled, suspicious as always.
"Nothing!" Harry insisted. "We were just heading to the library."
"A likely story!" Filch huffed. "Sneaking around on your own- why aren't you in Hogsmeade buying Stink Pellets and Belch Powder and Whizzing Worms like the rest of your nasty little friends?"
"We didn't get our permission slips signed-" Juliet tried to explain.
"Well, get back to your common room where you belong!" Filch snapped, and he stood glaring until they had passed out of sight.
But they didn't go back to the common room, climbing another staircase, to the Owlery so Juliet could send a letter to her mother. They were walking along another corridor when a voice from inside one of the rooms called out to them.
"Harry? Juliet?"
They doubled back to see who had spoken and saw Professor Lupin, looking around his office door. "What are you doing?" Lupin asked kindly, in a very different voice from Filch. "Where are your friends?"
"Hogsmeade," Juliet, sighed. "Mum refused to sign our slips."
"Ah," Lupin said, considering the pair for a moment with sympathy in his eyes. "Why don't you come in? I've just taken delivery of a Grindylow for our next lesson."
"A what?" Harry asked, nudging Jules in her ribs as they followed Lupin into his office. In the corner stood a very large tank of water, where a sickly green creature with sharp little horns had its face pressed against the glass, pulling faces and flexing its long, spindly fingers.
"Water demon," Lupin clarified, surveying the Grindylow thoughtfully. "We shouldn't have much difficulty with him, not after the Kappas. The trick is to break his grip. You notice the abnormally long fingers? Strong, but very brittle."
