Of Love And War

Book One

Of Love And War

By Arabella Figgy

Prologue -- What Was Old Is New Again

The steam of the engine made her think she was on a cloud, rather than a platform she hadn't stepped on for years to go on a train to a place she had tried not to think about for almost as long. Platform 9 and three-quarters hadn't changed since her youth; it had remained constant while all those on it changed as rapidly as the seasons. With a sigh, Arabella Figg turned her back to the crowds of chattering students and sat in a compartment near the back.

How many years had it been since she had sat in one of these compartments, waiting anxiously for the beginning of another term? It seemed like a hundred. Ever since the Fall, she covered herself in the shroud as one of the Ministry's Best; the cool, confident Auror, not ever letting herself out, until one day the Arabella underneath ceased to try. That was partially why she had accepted the position as DADA professor. What better way to reclaim her lost soul than the place where she had never felt more alive?

Of course, Arabella mused as she stowed her small satchel above her seat, it isn't ever going to be the same. Remus would be laying low; he had told her that himself in the letter. And the others... the others were best not dwelled on. She had tried her best to drive herself crazy thinking about the past, and quite frankly the emotional gauntlet she had already thrown down for herself was plenty for the meantime.

Sitting down and watching the countryside gradually gain speed; she tried to lose herself in the scenery rather than her own painful memories. Of course, she thought with a smile, if that doesn't work, I could always stun myself.

Trying to stave off all the feelings that were threatening to overwhelm her, she stared up at the ceiling, but all that managed to do was cause the tears to fall down the sides of her face and into her ears.

“Way to go, Figg,” she said, trying to grin in spite of the tears.

The door to the compartment slid open, and Arabella hastily dried her tears with the edge of her cloak.

“Stupid prat,” a voice from behind the door said as a girl with rather frizzy hair and clutching a ginger cat stepped in. A tall redheaded boy followed, his back to Arabella as he continued his conversation with the third, a shorter boy with dark untidy hair and brilliant green eyes. The girl and the shorter of the boys cowered slightly when they spotted Arabella, but the red-haired boy plowed on. “'Hey Potter',” he said, mimicking a slow, affected drawl, “'Where'd you get that mangy mutt?' I swear, that...” He trailed off as he too finally spotted the teacher in the midst, but she was otherwise occupied.

The mangy mutt in question sat on the floor, looking up at her, recognition in his large eyes. She, of course mirrored the expression.

“Sirius!”