Loving Lupin

    The first thing that struck Harry about the Shrieking Shack was how it hadn't changed one bit.

    The floorboards were nailed together messily and were completely broken in some parts; the stairs were crooked and uneven, as if a particularly unskilled carpenter had built them. The walls were completely ravaged-- probably from Lupin, Harry thought-- and pieces of wallpaper had been peeled off and drooped so low that they almost touched the floor. The whole place was a very sorry sight.

    "Hermione?" yelled Ron. "HERMIONE?!"

    To the boy's shock, Professor Zochnik slapped her hand over Ron's mouth with surprising force. Ron's eyes widened in surprise, and Harry thought he would try to wriggle out of her grasp, but he remained still. Professor Zochnik's large blue eyes narrowed shrewdly as she explained her actions.

    "Ve must not let her know ve are here," she whispered surreptitiously. "She is flighty. Ve must be quiet."

    "She's weird," Ron muttered to Harry once she had released him from her grasp.

    "You just noticed?" Harry muttered back.

    Zochnik suddenly glanced back at them, and Harry feared for a moment that she had heard them. But to their surprise, she smiled like a child on an Easter egg hunt and continued creeping forward. She was as light as a cat, and when she beckoned for them to follow her up the stairs, her feet barely seemed to be touching the floor. However, as Ron and Harry tried to tiptoe up the dilapidated stairs, the boards groaned and screeched beneath them-- enough noise to make even the deafest of wizards notice that the residence was not empty.

    "Quiet!" hissed Professor Zochnik.

    But her attempt was futile. Already Hermione had heard their monstrously loud steps and was at the top of the stairs to greet them.

    "Leave me alone," she said fiercely, but it sounded as if her voice was shaking with tears.

    "Ve haff come to help, Hermione," replied Professor Zochnik, her blue eyes glowing radiantly, even in the gloomy atmosphere of the Shrieking Shack.

    "I don't..." Her words faded suddenly, and her eyes turned to Harry and Ron.

    Ron wrung his hands together and stared at his bushy-haired friend.

    "Please, come back with us," he said helplessly, opening his arms in a pleading manner. "Please."

    "Why?" cried Hermione, tears freely flowing down her cheeks now. "Why?"

    "Because... We lov-- we like you, Hermione," choked Ron, his ears turning crimson. "No... *I* like you."

    "You... You do?" She struggled to stem the flow of her tears with the sleeve of her robe.

    Ron shuffled his feet bashfully. "Well, yeah..."

    She rushed towards him, fresh tears pouring down her cheeks. Ron gave a shocked "oof!" sound as she knocked into him, but he did not protest. A smile twitched across Harry's face, and he couldn't help but feel that this was a common story of "All's well that ends well". However, there was one person in the room who was not totally content.

    "Hermione," Zochnik snarled irritably. "Come here, Hermione."

    Hermione whirled around in Ron's arms, but Ron did not release his embrace on her. He felt as though letting her go would mean losing her again, and that was the last thing he wanted.

    "Let her go, Mr. Veasley," commanded Professor Zochnik.

    Reluctantly, Ron released her. Hermione stared up at Zochnik with apprehension, wondering what on earth could have caused her to act so irritable. Usually Professor Zochnik kept an air dreamy sweetness, but she was suddenly acting as stern as Professor McGonagall. Hermione stumbled towards her, tendrils of hair falling about her face and sticking to her cheeks where her tears had fallen. Zochnik did not seem prepared to comfort her, however; she simply took her hand and stared at it.

    "This ring," she said simply. "Take it off and give it to me. I vill send it back to Remus."

    "What for?" murmured Hermione, obviously taken aback.

    "It is not healthy for you. Give it to me."

    "Professor, please, I'd rather not. I'll be fine, don't you worry." Hermione carefully wrapped her fingers about the ring defensively.

    "I said GIVE IT TO ME!" shrieked Professor Zochnik.

    All three teens jumped backwards, shocked by Zochnik's sudden furious outburst. Her eyes were so full of rage that it seemed as if blue flame were pouring from her pupils. Hermione's cold hand clutched for Ron's, and, upon finding her hand, he grasped it safely in his large palm.

    "I must haff that ring," Zochnik panted, whipping out her wand. "And I am prepared to do anything to have it!"

    "Just give it to her, if she's so keen on it," Ron muttered. "You don't really need it anyway, do you?"

    "But why's she want it?" replied Hermione in a low voice, her waif-like demeanor slowly trickling away to reveal the clever, inquisitive girl that the two boys knew. "Perhaps it has some sort of power to it. It could be dangerous, and how much do we know about her? Why do you want it, Professor?" she added, speaking loud enough for Zochnik to hear.

    "That is not your concern!" Zochnik's nostrils were flaring so widely that it was a wonder her nose didn't just stay that way. "I vill count to three. If you do not hand it over in that time, I vill curse you. One... two... Thr--"

    BANG!

    A red beam skimmed the side of Harry's face and hit Professor Zochnik straight on in the chest. She gave a startled look before falling over backwards onto the ground, stiff as a board. Hermione screamed and Ron gasped, but Harry couldn't help but feel strangely calm.

    "Evening, Professor," said Harry, turning around to face none other than Albus Dumbledore.