70: Masked Feelings

After Professor Lupin dismissed them, most of the class left the staffroom, and the corridor was quickly filled with excited chatter. Alaric, however, found no cheer in their midst. Despite the animated discussions surrounding him, it seemed only his friends had noticed the turmoil within his heart.

The irony was as biting as a winter wind on the Scottish moors. Lysandra's boggart, her deepest fear, mirrored his own. But to him, the lifeless form of his sister's corpse was the thing that haunted him. During his little adventure into the Vault of Fear within the restricted section last year, he became familiar with his boggart's form. It had always puzzled him why his mother didn't appear as well, but Alaric had faith in her magical prowess, meaning he wasn't as protective of her. Isadora was, without a doubt, a formidable witch.

"Al?" Daphne called out cautiously, her hand resting gently on his shoulder as if she feared he might vanish before her eyes. "Are you alright?"

Alaric turned to his friends, a thin smile masking his face. "I'm... I just need some time to think. I'll catch up with you later at Quidditch, alright?"

With a wave of his hand, he set off, his robes billowing in his wake, leaving his friends to exchange concerned glances and wonder about what thoughts were going through his mind. 

__________

"Sit, sit," said Lupin in a kind manner. "Do you want some tea?" 

"Y-Yes, please," said Lysandra between sniffs and hiccups. She tried using her sleeve to clean the tears that drenched her face, only for more to trail down her cheeks. 

Professor Lupin brought his wand out and tapped a box with it. It was a small, wooden box with metal hinges allowing a lid. Out of this seemingly ordinary container emerged a tea set adorned with delicate beauty but veiled in dust.

With a quick  Scourgify  and some hot water, the air in the staffroom was soon permeated with the aroma of maltiness and greenness carried on a waft of steam.

"They only have herbal tea here. I hope you don't mind," said Lupin as the water kettle obediently poured hot water into the patiently awaiting teapot.

"I q-quite like it, actually," She said, her eyes puffy as she watched the professor pour the tea into two delicate cups. 

After placing the teapot back on a table, Lupin sat across Lysandra, who sat on one of the old wooden chairs in the staffroom. The small teacup in her hands would quiver occasionally, hinting at the emotions stirring within her. 

"From what you've told us on the train, I expected you and your brother to get along better," Lupin commented after a sip, and Lysandra realized the reason for this talk. 

"It's nothing r-really," She said with a forced smile, cleaning the remnants of tears on her face. "We just had a small quarrel—"

"Lysandra," Lupin gently interrupted, his voice having a wint of understanding. "Being a professor here doesn't just mean teaching; it means looking out for our students... You know, I have two brothers – not by blood, mind you, but we're as close as if we were. We've had our fair share of arguments, countless times, but we've always managed to make amends in the end. So, perhaps, if you're willing to share what's troubling you, I might be able to lend a hand,"

Lysandra clenched her hands, her knuckles paling as she fought to hold back fresh tears.

"I would tell you, Professor, but I'd need to understand why he's angry with me in the first place," she managed to say, her eyes glassy.

"So, you're not aware of what's bothering Alaric?" Lupin asked, sipping from his teacup.

"I'm just... uncertain," she admitted, her thoughts racing. It couldn't possibly be because of her Muggle clothes, could it? "He's been distant since the night we arrived in Hogsmeade after I asked about his Patronus—" Lysandra's eyes widened, and she hastily covered her mouth, realizing she might have revealed too much.

"Oh, so it was Alaric who cast the Patronus that day," Lupin said with some praise in his tone, but when he saw Lysandra's face quivering, he quickly continued. "He isn't in any trouble whatsoever, your brother! Quite the contrary. The Patronus Charm is a rather—"

"Complicated charm, I know that," Lysandra added, sighing in relief. 

"And a corporeal one, to boot," Lupin continued. "A full corporeal Patronus Charm in his third year. Now I understand why the teachers love him," 

"Don't say that near him, professor," Lysandra joked through the tears. "It'll just inflate his ego even more," 

"I'll keep it in mind," He chuckled. 

An hour slipped away like a fleeting dream, during which Professor Lupin patiently attempted to help Lysandra understand the motive behind her brother's anger. When she finally left the staffroom, some people were gathered at the door. Hope, Hermione, Harry, Ron, and even Ginny were waiting, their expressions a mix of concern and relief.

The trio of girls swiftly closed in around Lysandra, enveloping her in a comforting hug, while Harry and Ron stood nearby, their faces etched with worry.

"Oh, Lysandra — are you alright?" Hermione inquired, her eyes shimmering with sympathy.

"I am now," she replied, though her eyes still bore the traces of the tears she had shed.

"I swear, I'll give that tosser a piece of my mind the next time I see him," Hope declared through gritted teeth. "Just because he's handsome doesn't mean he can treat his sister this way,"

Ginny chimed in, her chuckling undercutting her words, "Hope, maybe it's best if you don't talk right now,"

They held onto their friend for a few precious moments before allowing her some space to breathe.

"So," Ron started nervously, "Did it help?" Lysandra looked at him, puzzled.

"We told what happened to Remus before class," Harry admitted sheepishly.

A genuine smile graced Lysandra's lips.

"It did. Thank you," she said, expressing her gratitude with heartfelt hugs to Ron and Harry.

__________

"Alright, line up!" Zoe Carrow's voice cut through the heavy downpour, her hair dripping with rainwater.

Slytherin students, ranging from second-year to seventh-year, assembled in neat lines on the Quidditch field, rain pelting them relentlessly. In the stands, a small but dedicated crowd had gathered, sheltered under their umbrellas.

Standing before the students were the returning members of the Quidditch team who hadn't graduated. Carrow, the new seventh-year captain, had a gleaming silver whistle clamped between her teeth.

"I might try for Beater later," Blaise leaned in to whisper to Alaric and Theodore, both of whom had their Firebolt brooms hovering nearby. It wasn't surprising that most of the gathered crowd hadn't come to watch the trials but to see the new fastest broom in the world in action. 

Blaise, on the other hand, still had his broom covered in cloth. He didn't want to damage the gift a mystery donor had given him and his two friends. 

"Go for it," Alaric said, but his gaze was elsewhere. From the corner of his eyes, he was watching Draco Malfoy float around in his broom, still with a cast on. 

'Where's his Firebolt?' He thought. He clearly remembered seeing Lucius Malfoy on the line to buy one. 

"Maybe he crashed it," Alaric mused with a soft chuckle.

Theodore overheard his mumbled comment and inquired, "Did you say something, Al?"

"Nothing, nothing," Alaric brushed it aside. "Anyway, Theo, you should get to the goalposts; the Chasers' trials are about to start."

And so it did. Not even ten seconds later, Zoe Carrow yelled at the top of her lungs for the aspiring Chasers to get on their brooms and try their luck against Slytherin's new main Keeper, Theodore. 

The hopeful Chasers were each given a Quaffle, but only a handful managed to find the hoop, and in Alaric's estimation, most of those goals were due to sheer luck.

"Beaters, you're next!" 

With a whistle, those trying out to be Beaters floated up, and at the same time, several flying targets appeared,  darting and weaving through the stadium.

The field was divided into two, Chasers and Beaters, each on their respective side. Occasionally, a rouge Bludger or an out-of-aim Quaffle would go to the other side, but a stout student kept them in control, his wand always pointing above. 

"The Beaters are all crap," Marcus Flint, who stood close to Draco, said. 

"If it wasn't for that stupid animal, I could fill in for Beater," Draco said with a disappointed sigh. "But that half-ogre is going to get what's coming for him. My dad's going to be present in his trial," 

Alaric stopped what he was doing and listened closely. 

"You haven't heard, Marcus?" Draco sounded amazed. "Hagrid's going to trial at the Wizengamot because of what he let that hippogriff do to me. And Dad's going to at least make sure we get the head of the beast," He snickered at the end. 

Like he'd allow that. Taking a mental note to pass by Hagrid's later, Alaric continued to watch the rest of the trials, although he couldn't concentrate much after what he heard. 

__________

The days continued to pass. In no time at all, Defense against the Dark Arts became almost everyone's favourite subject, regardless of the year. And Alaric had to acknowledge Professor Lupin knew how to teach. However, to the boy, Arithmancy came a close second. 

Maybe it was because of Professor Vector's disposition, or maybe it was her creativity when showcasing some of the spells she had created, but Alaric, who was quite advanced in terms of knowledge compared to his peers, found himself actually wanting to attend more of her classes. It was a similar feeling he got the first time Professor McGonagall had taught them Transfiguration. 

As for Ancient Runes, Bathsheda Babbling didn't teach Alaric anything new. It was a subject he had delved deeper than most — a requirement, per se, to be able to craft good magical artefacts.

He'd visited Hagrid after the Quidditch trials and found the man weeping again, this time, a large wine barrel in his grip. At least, when Alaric cleaned it, it didn't smell like Goblin's piss. 

Alaric didn't set foot again in Professor Trelawney's classroom. Instead, his first Care of Magical Creatures was the day after he visited Hagrid, and after convincing the half-giant to not use flobberworms, the class was quite interesting when they began to study Doxies. The Doxy Queen was especially ferocious. 

He was happy to say he was enjoying most of the classes, especially Potions. Snape was in a particularly vindictive mood these days, and no one was in any doubt as to why. The story of the boggart assuming Snape's shape, and the way that Neville had dressed it in his grandmother's clothes, had traveled through the school like wildfire. Snape didn't seem to find it funny. But Alaric did. 

But apart from his classes, Alaric was quite busy. Either having to sign the documents Orion sent him daily, mapping out the school with Fred and George after-hours for the map, practising some not-so-legal spells in the Forbidden Forest, or even Quidditch practices. Also, he hadn't forgotten the indecipherable book, but at that point, he might as well have. Alaric even took the book to Albus at one point, but his uncle was as confused as he was. 

"I'll look into it," Albus said during the last week of September. "I might have something on this runic language on some old notes of mine," 

However, in the end, what had him more tired than anything were the constant 'coincidences' where his sister would find him alone in a corridor and attempt to talk to him. 

Truth be told, at some point, he realized he was too harsh with his words. Perhaps it was the built-up anger that made him lash out, or perhaps it was the overthinking he'd done the day before. Deep down he missed his sister, but he couldn't find the right words to express that, and the fact that she seemed to care more for her friends than him still rested heavy in his heart. 

At the start of October, however, Alaric had something else to occupy him, something so enjoyable it more than made up for his busy schedule. The weather was getting colder and wetter, the nights darker, but no amount of mud, wind, or rain could stop him from finally visiting Hogsmeade without having to disguise himself. 

**********

A/N: Okay, angst is over for a while. Time to develop. 

Fun fact! Rowling first wrote down the Hogwarts house names on an aeroplane sick bag.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter and don't forget to vote!