turning page | A REMUS LUPIN STORY

iii. THE FIRST DADA LESSON

Hogwarts remained as magical as it had always been. There was no feeling quite like walking through the double doors of the castle, where you would have an overwhelming sense of comfort and excitement. The next year would be spent with your closest friends, learning the most fascinating stuff in the most beautiful environment. It was certainly something one couldn't take for granted.

This year, however, it felt different. There were dementors surrounding the grounds, hundreds for the eyes to see, and whilst the past few years at Hogwarts had been rather peculiar, this was most certainly the weirdest of them all.

Adeline gripped Margo's arm as they waltzed into the Great Hall, candles floating at the ceiling and fire ablaze. It was a different kind of home. The two girls sauntered towards Gryffindor's table with Oliver and Alexander at their heels. They sat down beside each other, and Margo leaned forward with a grin.

"Merlin, I'm so ready for this feast. I'm going to have a little bit of everything. Our last welcome back feast, we've got to take advantage of it." she said, and Adeline giggled.

"You're always so hungry, Margo." Oliver smirked in response, and she nearly shoved him off his seat. "You'd think you were eating for the whole of Gryffindor."

"God forbid I like my food, Wood. Don't tell me - you're on another bloody diet fad, thinking it'll improve your Quidditch. It's ridiculous." Oliver looked offended.

"Ah, yes, he absolutely refused a slice of Mum's famous cherry tart over the summer. She was so offended." Adeline retorted.

"How can you deny Esme Montgomery's cherry tart? That's almost criminal." Margo faux gasped, and the two let out a fit of giggles. Even Alexander grinned. Oliver and Margo began a backwards and forwards squabble.

Alex nudged Adeline and she turned her head to look at him. "Look. By Dumbledore." He said, and she moved in the direction of his eyes. A man was conversing with the headteacher, the same man who she had seen on the train. R.J Lupin. "Must be a professor, then."

Adeline nodded in agreement. "He looked like one. Too old to be a student."

"What do you think - Dark Arts professor?"

"Maybe. He doesn't look like one, though." She paused. "Too...normal."

Alex snorted. "Lockhart didn't look like one, either. He looked like a tool." Adeline laughed at that, and averted her attention as the sorting ceremony began.

She had always enjoyed this part. Many of the students didn't know much about the houses, and she got excited whenever somebody was sorted into Gryffindor. It was like a little family. There never had been any animosity towards other houses, for her. Her dad had been a Hufflepuff, and her mother had always said she was a Ravenclaw. Adeline had always seen her as more of a Gryffindor, though.

She remembered her sorting ceremony.

Well, this is peculiar, the Sorting Hat had hummed. The young Adeline was confused. How can you be sorted when you don't even know who you really are? It whispered. She didn't think she was that confused about her identity. Then again, she was only a teen. You're lucky that I know. Now...it's rare that someone is both. Slytherin and Gryffindor. You could achieve greatness either way...it's in your blood. I see...you will flourish, eventually... But I'm unsure...hmm...that decides it...GRYFFINDOR!

She snapped out of her thoughts as three people walked in rather late and seated themselves near her left side. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. They were nice enough kids, and she often felt sorry for them. They hadn't the easiest few years, though Oliver spoke very highly of the famous Potter: he was brilliant at Quidditch. Adeline looked back towards the front as Dumbledore's booming voice spread throughout the hall.