The Patronus

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|ALEXANDRIA WEASLEY'S P.O.V|

"Haven't you read that one already?"

Hermione and I were in a dark corner of the library, hidden away together for secluded privacy. Although, truthfully, the only other person to be seen was the librarian: Madam Pince. There were two chairs round our small, half table; we sat across from one another, a stack of books so high between us that I often forgot she was even there.

"I have," she said in agreement, voice light and quiet in the otherwise silent room, "but I feel like I've missed something so I'm reading it again."

Unable to stop myself, I rolled my eyes. I nearly jumped in fright over what I had done, quickly peering around the tower of ancient literature to assure that she hadn't seen me. But she hadn't. She was huddled over two open books, her eyes seeming to skin between all four pages as locks of poofy brown hair fell into her face.

The library was very dark. There were few windows in this corner, the glass of which were fogged over from the cold outside on the grounds. The only source of light for us came from the big, metal lamp that was lit at the edge of the table; it gave off a dim and yellow glow, so faint that it made my head spin whenever I tried to focus on reading.

The seat of my wooden chair had begun to feel like bricks beneath me, after hours of being cramped there. My knee was bouncing beneath the table to an inaudible tune and I simply watched it, studying the skin that was visible where my skirt ended. I hadn't worn tights this afternoon, already accustomed to the overly warm atmosphere in the Hogwarts library.

Hermione hadn't spoken to neither Harry nor Ron since Christmas, days ago. Ron seemed to have an idea in mind that the Firebolt was currently being picked apart to splinters, a crime which he simply could not forgive her for, and Harry was — well, Harry.

He just needed some time to pout for dramatic purposes.

And so, as a result to this feud in our small group, the four of us had once again been split apart. While Hermione spent her time hidden away between the pages of books, I spent my time beside her: just as I had done since first year, and as I would for many more to come.

"Did you notice Lupin's face today?" I questioned carefully, after a few long minutes of silence. There was a ringing in my ears from the prolonged quiet. "He doesn't look well.  .  . I suppose there's something more going on with him, something much more serious than sporadic illness."

This seemed to have caught Hermione's attention, finally.

Today had been the very first day of the new term; all of the teachers and students had finally returned, and lessons resumed as though no time had been taken off at all. There was already a pile of completed homework in my school bag.

"I have noticed that, yes," she nodded fiercely, gently pushing aside the books between us to see me a little easier. "I'm afraid it's something much worse, Alex." she let out a quiet sigh, her knuckles rubbing at her cheekbone. "He gets sick once a month, always around the same time."

Immediately, I leant a little closer toward the table. "Honestly, you can't be suggesting —"

"I am," she said firmly. "I know I'm right. That Defense lesson when Professor Snape taught, how he skipped all of those chapters just for one specific subject.  . He made it so obvious, he wanted us to know."

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