✧AN OVERWHELMING AFTERNOON✧

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Cara dragged her feet towards the Dark Arts room, there had been a few bustling rumors from the last few classes. But even as she turned towards Ronan, he seemed to have an ill stomach as well.

"Mum said we can join the American classes if things get too much. Didn't think Crawford would really let this man teach his students." Cara nodded to her brother's words, but still found it strange.

Lori was not yet born when all this was had taken place, hell, even she was barely a thought. It bothered the two that they hardly recalled their lives in Britain before their run away to America, but it wasn't as awful as Lori—She was the only one who never met father until his release.

There was a time that Rabastan wasn't sure that Lori was his, and instead was Proctor's, making the strain to fester in the beginning of their relationship.

"We'll make it worthwhile, could still learn good things from an Auror," Cara whispered back and Ronan of course nodded. Though the tension in his stomach did not stop even after settling in the classroom.

"Hello, Neville." She greeted the Gryffindor already sitting while her brother followed in pursuit just beside her. "Hiya Cara, did you get a chance to check out the club Professor Sprout's offered up?" She shook her head as he took the moment to explain it, and it was expected to be a bigger outcome now with the addition of three other schools with them.

However, their conversation was interrupted with the quicker stomps of their new professor. And he settled the rest with a quickened thud of a book onto the front desk.

The title she was familiar with as it was their assigned textbook for this class, rather brilliant author if she had anything to say about it.

"I see you all slogged down to Flourish & Blotts like good little boys and girls and bought the textbook. Congratulations...It'll make a fine doorstep." Ronan looked down at the textbook in damnation, and a bit of hatred that he had already taken a leaser reading when Cara said she liked the author.

"...I'm Alastor Moody, ex-Auror, Ministry malcontent, and your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I'm here because Dumbledore asked me. End of story, goodbye, the end...Any questions?" Moody's eyes manage to scan the classroom all at once. And Cara shivered when it came back towards her—Landing on the entirety of their row.

Perhaps sitting next to Neville today was an awful choice.

"When it comes to the Dark Arts, I believe in a practical approach. You may wonder what I mean by that. I'll show you. But first, which of you can tell me...How many Unforgiveable Curses there are?" The students started to glance at one another, and Cara looked to Ronan.

They didn't know what to expect, but this surely wasn't it.

"I might've known...Go on, Granger."

"There are three, sir—How did you know..."

"Your name? I know a bit more than that. You're top of your class—Or almost is that correct?" Cara felt the attention return back towards her from both Moody and Hermione, but this was ultimately worse.

Gods, she felt her stomach recoil for the fifth time this class.

"Yes sir."

"Muggle-born?...I'm not about to walk into a room full of strangers without doing background. Constant Vigilance!" Moody jabbed his staff into the floor, having the entire class jump at the sound.

"The devil likes disguises. Never forget that...Again, Granger. How many curses?" It didn't give Ronan any comfort to know that there was an extensive background check on any detail he cared for.

"Three."

"And they're so named?"

"Because they're unforgivable. The use of any one of them..."

"...Will earn you a one-way ticket to Azkaban, correct. Now, the Ministry says you're too young to see what these curses do. I say different. You need to know what you're up against. You need to be prepared—" Cara breathed out a sigh of relief as the bloke turned his back against the class as he rushed a violent hand to write down the three given curses.

"—You need to find another place to put your gum beside the underside of your desk, Mr.Finnegan." Seamus, at the back of the class, had only blinked. "Blimey. The old codger can see out of the back of his head..."

"...And hear across classrooms!" He shouted and threw the piece of chalk towards the very student who whispered under his breath.

"Which curse shall we see first? Weasley!" Ron's shoulders shuddered at the sound of his names, but honestly—Ronan was pleased it wasn't him or his sister.

If they could survive this class without speaking then bless it be, indeed.

"Well...My dad once told me about one...The Imperius Curse." Madeye had nodded eagerly. "Hmm, I expect your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a fair bit of grief some years ago. Perhaps this will show you why: Imperio!"

As Moody waves his wand, the spider leaps from his pam onto a student's shoulder. And the commotion had followed by a shriek and cry from the students the spider and Madeye had rallied. The fact that Moody's grin grew even wider with every urge he thought upon the snake was another installation of fear.

"Talented, isn't she? What should I have her do next? Jump out a window? Drown herself?" The understanding of the curse started to trickle amongst the room. Especially to see that the spider actively wanted to be pushed further into the water pale underneath it.

"Scores of witches and wizards claimed they only did You-Know-Who's bidding while under the influence of the Imperious Curse. Here's the rub: how do you sort out the liars?" Cara's limps parted as she realized she was gripping so tightly to the book in front of her, so much so that her knuckles were turning white.

Not that it was any different than to her brother's.

Was their father under the curse?
Is he back under it?

Was that why mother and father hated the Malfoy's?

"Another!" Madeye looked around the room, but Cara's eyes had followed Neville's rising body as he stood up. "It's Longbottom, is it? Professor Sprout tells me you have an aptitude for Herbology." Neville shyly nodded to the professor's observation.

Though it wouldn't take long for anyone to really do that.

"There's...The Cruciatus Curse."

"Yes. Particularly nasty." Moody steps forward, looming over Neville, and drops the spider onto their desk.

"Crucio!" The spider began to twitch and whine, trembling violently. Yet Moody remained motionless and entirely undisturbed. Yet Neville's eyes were fixed on the spider—Who was in pure misery.

Cara's eyes had wandered from the spider to Neville's hands, they too were clenching the corners of the desk.

"Stop it!" Cara cried. "Can't you see it's bothering him! Stop it!" Ronan held onto his sister's arm as she tried to move in front of Neville. But Moody had listened, thankfully.

He dropped his wand, and the room remain silent as the spider's painful cries had retracted.

"Perhaps you could give us the last Unforgivable Curse, Miss Lestrange." Cara's eyes had burned as she looked up towards the professor and shook her head—Her eyes lingering at the poor spider. However, there was little warning before the wand had returned to its original spot. "Avada Kadavra!"

It didn't take a genius to know that spell and it caused Cara to jump and nearly fall out of her chair if it wasn't for Ronan to hold her steady.

The flash of green light and the rush in the air remained in the air, especially since the spider had rolled over and died so instantly.

"The killing curse. There is no blocking it...Only one person is known to have survived it. And he's sitting in this room." As the others started to take in his words, the realization that Harry Potter had survived the green light was a mystery to them all.

But as Cara had turned her attention away from the spider and towards her friend.

The class hadn't toned down at all, and all Ronan could do was silently waiting for the clock to strike a new number. He would go straight to professor McGonagall herself and request to switch to the American class.

It would be so much easier—Goddess would it be, even best they would be together with students they formed with at Salem. Not all, but some.

Ronan had taken her books and satchel over his, walking her out of class with hooked arms.

"Brilliant, isn't he? Completely demented, of course, and terrifying to be in the same with, but he's really been they, y'know?...He's looked evil in the eye." Cara had stilled in hearing that phrase.

She too had looked evil in the eye too, hadn't she?

"I think he's cruel." Hermione put back, and Cara nodded. "It was utterly barbaric—A-and—Did you see Neville?" Ronan nicked his head to see the tall fellow looking out towards the window of the tower's steps. "Nev...Neville...?" Cara whispered, but her voice had been interrupted by the oncoming sound of the very professor who cased it.

"It's alright, sonny. You come with me. We'll have a cup of tea." The gruff offer wasn't easy to refuse and thus, he numbly followed after—Back to the very room he was mentally tormentor in.

"Roe—"

"I know, we'll go to Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall. They'll understand if we want to switch." Ronan spoke softly, and it caught the attention of the Gryffindors behind them as they carefully made their way down the steps as a group.

"Can we tell Rom later?" She whispered, and Ronan sucked in a steady breath. "Cara, I don't think that's a good idea."

Ronan had given the concerned faces of others a wave as they went down a different path than the rest of the Hogwarts population would use.

Though it wasn't as empty as he would've liked, especially as the quickened words of the French language filled their ears.

"Oh, he's a handsome one, isn't he?" Ronan smirked, and Cara broke out of her cursed sniffles to chuckle. "Hear that, they think you're handsome." She said wiping her eyes.

The gals had stopped to look at Cara's red and puffy cheeks.

"Zee beautiful girrl, zee ist crying!" Suddenly they were sworn by quick French words and small bits of English praises. And if Ronan was not mistaken, he was blamed at first—Though they quickly parted by a new figure.

Though she too sported the Beubatuax colors and style uniform, it was different—Mature.

"What is your name, darling?" It had shocked both the Lestrange siblings that her voice didn't hold much of an accent when speaking in English and so Cara whipped her eyes again.

"The new Dark Arts professor is a bit much..." The woman thought for a moment and wrapped a secure arm over Cara's and smiled. "He's a wicked man, his name runs through Europe with fear—I apologies, my English isn't what it used to be." The youngest Lestrange had wiped her eyes and smiled.

"You're English is brilliant, never you mind." With a few quick French words, the rest of the Beubataux students had hurried away, while the assistant wrapped an arm around Cara.

"You know what I find to be the most helpful when I'm feeling down, take a walk in the fresh air. It's much too crowded this semester." Yet the question had soon and Ronan answered with ease.

"This is my sister Cara. I'm Ronan Lestrange." The woman had begun to smile and leaned down to kiss Cara's forehead. "Well, I planned to do this differently, but it's so nice to finally meet you two."

Cara leaned up to look at the woman in pure confusion about what the woman meant. "My name is Lydia Lestrange, technically, I'm your aunt." Now Lydia didn't have any predictions on how her nephew or nieces would respond, but they certainly differed from one another.

Cara was filled with excitement and Ronan held a bit of suspicion.

"You're our aunt? But you're...You must be close to Rom and Imara's age." Ronan said with a scratch of his head. "That's correct, shy of a few years. I attended your parent's wedding when I was a wee girl. But we don't share the same mother, as I'm assuming you both know that." It didn't matter, Cara smiled regardless of the connection.

Big or small.

"Oh, this is brilliant Roe! We have an aunt!" Lydia remained silent on the fact that the children in front of her certainly had another aunt, and two Uncles that weren't as innocent as the last.

Or so she thinks at the least.

"It's wonderful to finally meet you, and I hope that we can spend the Holiday together this year...I would most definitely love to have dinner in the town above one of these coming days as well." From there, the plans started bouncing back and forth—Only for Lydia to be surprised by a fifth Lestrange child, that being Lorelei.

"I don't blame your mother for leaving America, you know. It was a very strange time...And with all of you being so little..." It was a story the two knew very well, and it left Romulus to wonder just how long his brother and sister spoke with their Aunt.

"Oh, she's beautiful, Rom! Has Papa's eyes too." Cara said with another smile, and Ronan rolled his own. The subject of dinner was their newfound family member—Not that he was angry, but he was still internally struggling with the fact that they had blood relatives.

"Frowning too mate? I've got a packet of salt in my robes if you want some." He frowned further and made a face to his cousin, who only held his hands up in the air.
"Gods, can't take a joke on it either huh?" Phoniex snickered and Saros sighed. "Oi, quit it Nix. No one likes a nosey Niffler." That had certainly called upon Imara's interest, but she didn't find it all too funny when they were implying that Sterling was nosey.

Not that it wasn't a lie in the case of this particular Niffler.

But above all else, Romulus groaned into the air—He had almost forgotten about the fact that his cousins and best mates were here as well. It put him all out of order for sure, and he couldn't wait for this tournament to be over, and better yet—To head back to the labs and enjoy the better part of his interests than awaiting for Snape to approve or deny his studies.

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Date Posted: 01/22/2022

Time: 11:46

Words: 2448