The Stars and Forbidden Cigarettes | Professor Remus Lupin

The Paper

On Friday, the only interaction Reverie has with Lupin is in class, when she hands him the paper he'd assigned the day before. She worked extra hard on it just to spite him, and she's confident in her work.

He asks everyone in class to turn it in before they leave, and Reverie is near the end of the line. Ahead of her, she hears Lupin speaking.

"Thank you, Miss Gregory. Mister James. Miss Monterey," he says, nodding with every paper he gets.

Reverie reaches the front of the line, holds out her paper, and watches as his hand meets the opposite end to grab it. He scans the name at the top, and his eyes rise to meet hers briefly before they fall; so briefly that, if their deep green wasn't so striking, she would've thought she'd imagined it. She lets go of her end, the pressure of their hands holding the same object dissipating, and Lupin remains entirely silent. The whole interaction couldn't have lasted longer than 5 seconds, but to her, it felt like ages.

She moves to the side and, as she reaches her table and leans down to pick up her bag, she watches the student who'd been standing behind her reach out with the paper. His eyes are still down, and one beat passes until he looks up and smiles.

"Thank you, Miss Smith," he says, as he takes the paper and continues down the line.

Reverie slings the strap over her shoulder, turns around, and leaves the classroom.

==================================

The better half of the weekend passed with no sign of Lupin, and Reverie is grateful. She and Oliver spend Sunday learning quidditch, something she'd been putting off since 5th year when she told Oliver, in a moment of weakness, that she'd never learned how to play and that she was a terrible flyer. The look of absolute horror on his face still haunts her, but today the look of pure, unadulterated joy on his face was just as haunting, but in a good, beautiful way.

He teaches her the basics in the courtyard closest to the quidditch pitch; Ravenclaws had the quidditch pitch reserved for Sunday mornings, but Oliver told Reverie that it was no matter, they'd learn the basics here and apply them on the pitch in the afternoon. Reverie still remembers how disappointed Madame Hooch was in her first year, when Reverie could barely get the broom off the ground, much less mount and fly it. So, for half an hour, Oliver teaches her how to command an old ("but trustworthy!") Shooting Star from the cupboard, and the first time Reverie flies a low circle around him, his and her laughs mix together and echo off of the empty grounds.

"Yes! That's exactly it!" He exclaims, his cheeks red. Reverie hits the ground running, literally.

"Hah! How do you slow this thing?" She asks, breathing heavily.

"Shooting Stars are the slowest brooms out there, Rev," Oliver says, jogging up to her.

"Shut up, Oliver. As exhilarating as it is to be in the air, I could very well be up there for a very long time if I don't know how to slow down," she says, frowning down at the broom. He lightly pushes her shoulder.

"You're such a soil sport. That was amazing!"

"And you're a liar, but thank you," she says, smiling as she jokingly curtsies. She rubs her hands together. "Ok, what's next? Let's do the balls!"

Oliver reddens, and he turns around to get the beginners' quidditch case and open it. "Ok, well this big one in the middle, that there's the quaffle. The quaffle is the ball Chasers try to throw into the other team's hoops in order to get 10 points. Keepers, like me, defend the hoops."

"And those two?" She says, pointing at the two identical balls on either side of the quaffle.

"Those are bludgers. They are bewitched to fly and hit players off of their broomsticks. Beaters are tasked with protecting their team and sending the balls with a bat to the opposing team's players." Oliver looks at her. "It's been almost 7 years, and you still have no idea what these are?"