Chapter 28

She felt weird, but it wasn't a bad weird - or as if she was uncomfortable but there was a strange sense of unfamiliarity to wake up at an earlier time than she usually did, and to eat breakfast in the great hall with her friends and to bicker with Beau over how she wasn't eating enough when she was sure that she was and some of her friends took her side, like Peter who had just yesterday watched her eat four cookies and three chocolate frogs in ten minutes.

But even when he voiced that, James said, "well yeah, she sometimes eats junk food but you hardly touch your dinners, you hardly eat what you should."

She wouldn't speak to him for taking Beau's side, not because she thought the boy was wrong but because she knew that he was right and that Beau was right too but sometimes the even look of Beau looking so smug was something she would readily wipe off his face if given the best opportunity.

None of her friends commented on why she was awake so early, they were just happy that she had joined them and took it she wanted some company before her painting. Her new set of dungarees fell over her body because it was what she was most comfortable in, and some days if she was up for it she would let a dress fall over her.

She missed her dresses, she really did. She missed the bright fashion of her dresses and her skirts and she liked to show skin because the feeling of the air blowing against her made her feel free but lately it made her feel too exposed, and dungarees hardly showed her skin - so she covered with everything she could, and she could only bring herself to slide into them as she woke up with a plan.

A challenge.

A goal.

Her friends had gone their separate ways when the bell rang through the great hall and some students stayed behind, chatting still and hardly caring to be late to their first class, whilst her friends all moved to stand up, figuring that the quicker they left to class the quicker they'd be out.

"You know," James had said, "I only said that because I'm worried about you, I don't want you becoming ill. It's the last thing you need to go through."

And she had sighed, a small smile and a slow kiss on his lips setting him up for the day ahead before she whispered, "I know, I know. I just really hate that smug look on Beau because you agreed with him."

James let out a loud laugh, shaking his head and kissing her cheek and whispered, "have fun painting...maybe you could get started on that one of us?"

His wink showed his teasing and she pushed him out of the great hall with a roll of his eyes, and when he went down the corridor in order to go to Transfigurations, she left down the one opposite - far away from transfigurations and up the stairs.

She decided that she couldn't live in fear anymore, fear of people...fear of nightmares...fear of that man. That fear had her doing many things she didn't want to - like closing herself off and crying and skipping classes because she couldn't think of anything else to do that would make her feel better other than painting.

But it wasn't just painting, she was planting again, and she had a responsibility to tend to the plants in her gallery that she felt a distraction even on the bad days she still had.

And as she passed by that said gallery on her way to somewhere else, she only looked in with a peek to see if her plants were getting along, and they were. She wasn't needed there today because she didn't need to paint, and she didn't want to paint.

Of course, she was sure she'd paint sometimes in the next hours, maybe after dinner with Beau's company and forcing him to water her plants for her whilst she created something else on her easel or even added more vines to her wall, but right now she was going to do something else.

She knew that Beau hadn't waited on her when he went off to class because that's simply were he was going, class. Bea wasn't exactly expected to show up anymore for anything other than herbology and she knew she always should have, knowing that it could have been a distraction.

But she was so scared of her peers, of her fellow classmates that she knew would have stared at her and whispered and made up rumour after rumour about what really happened the night of her pain and she couldn't cope with something like that, like them talking about her whilst she could hear every word they spoke.

It would have driven her mad, but then - last night...there was nothing but loud greetings and laughter and smiles and stories of their summers and their Christmases that Bea had missed from old friends she couldn't class as overly close to but could still class as a friend because she did have a lot of them...she could even be classed as popular, but she just didn't care if she was or not.

Her ranking in the school wasn't what mattered to her but the people, her friends, the ones she had left behind to engulf herself in sadness and when she smiled again, they engulfed her like she had never left, and she liked it.

And maybe it was problematic to do something like that, to find out what happened to her and leave her alone, but she wanted to be left alone, she didn't want them to talk to her because they felt they needed to. She didn't expect them to be there to listen to her sob stories, and her pain, but she liked them there to talk to in classes and at dinner and to wave at in the hall.

And she had all of that last night as she laughed until tears streamed down her face when she heard of her friend Max falling into a lake because a puppy was chasing him during winter.

"That's not the worst part!" exclaimed Max's best friend John, "tell her the worst part, Merlin Bea I cried!"

And Bea was crying with laughter at the very thought of Max being scared of such a tiny puppy, "the lake," Max then said, covering his face with embarrassment, "it was icy! I fell through the ice!"

And the crowd of students around them with Bea burst into another fit of laughter at the thought of Max breaking the ice.

She smiled as the thought ran through her head, and then she ended up at the door of the classroom, of her charms classroom and how she was going to enter. She was going to enter and go to class and take notes like she used to because she was still a student and it wasn't optional anymore.

It was her goal.

She was polite, and she knocked to indicate her presence and the small voice of Flitwick rang to the door with a, "come in!"

She opened the door with a deep breath, slipping through quietly with a forced smile on her face for the many eyes that had turned to watch her...and it was silent for the longest time, just her standing there unsure of what to do or where to sit or who to even look at.

And then, "Miss Lupin, you are late!"

"I'm...sorry Professor," she squeaked out, her heart racing and she knew he had only said it to not make a big deal of the fact that she hadn't been to class since fourth year, "I...merlin I think I forgot where the class was it's been bloody ages."

She heard some laughs ring through the class and the tension eased and Flitwick smiled at her words, and then the panic again because she didn't have a seat or a clue where to sit and she knew most of the students...and then there was Beau who looked half shocked half proud.

And when she caught his eyes, he snapped from his trance, stood up and gestured her over.

The boy sitting next to Beau, another Ravenclaw was more than kind enough to give her his seat and she hated that it was sort of special treatment for him to do that, but she smiled, and she thanked him and she was so relieved that her voice wasn't shaky when she finally took her seat next to Beau, making sure the boy actually found another.

She pulled on her book back until it was in her lap, and brought out parchment to write on and a pen she had stolen from Remus. She had many of her own, but she had lost almost all of them, though she didn't quite know how considering she had barely used any of them.

She listened to Flitwick intently, trying to ignore Beau staring at her from his seat and when he wasn't even listening to Flitwick, she nudged him roughly, turning with a glare that told him to listen and his smile widened.

He wondered if that was what she had been like in all classes, but he was ecstatic if this meant she was going to be coming to classes too, not just for his own benefit though, but for hers too. Though he was rather happy that if she came to class, she would be in quite a bit of his considering the Hufflepuff's were paired with the Ravenclaw's quite a bit.

She had transfigurations with the Gryffindor's and her herbology class was mixed with students from more than two houses considering it depended on how many of the students took the classes, so Herbology was with Beau and Violet.

Care of Magical Creatures she had with the Slytherins and she knew the nicer of the bunch that she could talk and laugh with. She hated the reputation put on that house and she had scolded her friends many times for how they had once viewed them, chiding about how the students weren't bad or evil, but the families of some of the kids were.

Her classes varied, and she liked muggle studies too, remembering when she would ask her mum tons of questions about muggles just, so she could have her own advantage, not to mention she had grown up with muggle devices she didn't even know were muggle-made, so the class was a breeze.

Potions she had with Bertie and Violet, and she hated it more than she could hate anything, but Violet was rather skilled in the class, so she made sure to copy everything she could off of her, and she would copy it in her last class today.

It only made up for Violet copying her Herbology notes.

"Now," Flitwick said, and she had been pulled from her thoughts - almost laughing to herself that regardless of finally making her way to class, that didn't mean she would bloody listen, "who can tell me what the stunning spell is?"

She almost gasped in disbelief, because she knew that, and her hand lifted before she could even realise what she was doing, and when the professor - rather surprised - said, "yes, Miss Lupin?"

She said, "the stunning spell renders the victim dazed or unconscious - or! It can halt moving objects...it has a varying light of red or blue...the spell is actually 'Stupefy' and...and the wand movement is just a straight-line right at the victim."

Beau smirked proudly beside her, and Flitwick nodded with a smile, "well done, Miss Lupin! Ten points to Hufflepuff."

"Thank you, Professor," she squeaked out, releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding and turning to Beau who looked just as smug as he was in the Great Hall.

"What?"

"Oh nothing," he sang quietly, "I'm just trying to think of how many flowers have bloomed now."

She grinned at that, a wide grin and her shoulders lifted, and she even answered more questions when Flitwick would call on her and she felt happy in class, and she finally concentrated.

"I guess the Charms textbook actually did work?" Beau snorted, and she nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder as they listened to the Professor.

"I guess it did."