Second Year
- "Her roommate pulled a little joke and she's got two broken wrists." -
It was a bright beautiful summer’s day, the kind of day you would use to play outside or go swimming at the beach. The birds were singing as they soared through the sky. The trees were swaying in the light breeze. There wasn’t a single cloud to be found in the sky and the grass was greener than it had been in years. Kids were running about outside, playing their games as some older kids walked along the sidewalk talking or others were sitting under the giant tree. But if the outside had reflected the mood inside a certain room in the orphanage, there would be a deadly storm raging.
Rachael Lupin was sitting on her bunk in her bedroom, trying to get some Charms homework finished while her roommate, Becky Beckham, was away from the room. Rachael could never get a free moment to do her homework and she was in danger of getting detention the first day she got back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Becky was always around with her friends, or even just by herself, and her presence made it impossible for Rachael to do her work.
She was just lucky Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, might take some pity on her if she explained to him why she couldn’t do her homework well enough to get a decent grade. But then there were some professors like Professor Binstom, the Potions professor, and Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration professor. Binstom was nasty at all times of the day so, whatever reason she gave him, she knew he wouldn’t let her off lightly. Professor McGonagall was a bit more understanding than the Potions teacher but she still wouldn’t accept poorly done homework from a student whom she knew could accomplish much better.
She had been sure to get their homework done when she first got back from the orphanage. But she still knew she hadn’t done it to the best of her abilities, as she was still upset about coming back to the dreadful orphanage. She was so close to getting to stay at Hogwarts too. But, to her misfortune, the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, couldn’t manage having her yet. But he had given her the hopes of being able to stay the next year, which was a bit comforting.
She set her quill down on her parchment and slowly closed her inkbottle. She sat up and read through her homework. It was okay; certainly not top marks, but good enough to avoid a failure. She set her homework down on her lap and looked down at her owl, Emerald, a beautiful brown owl with black specks and startling emerald eyes. Her cage was perched on the nightstand next to her roommate’s bed. She hated the idea of it but Rachael’s “personal instructor” Ms. Marshall had told her not to complain.
Rachael had to admit, she was quite surprised by Ms. Marshall’s sudden change in attitude towards her. The first three years Rachael had lived at the orphanage Ms. Marshall had been unbearably mean towards her. But after picking her up at King’s Cross Train Station and having met Rachael’s mother, who was responsible for her being in the orphanage in the first place, Ms. Marshall had become pleasant towards Rachael. Obviously, having discovered what kind of a woman Rachael used to live with opened her eyes and forced her to become nice - a thought that was once unspeakable in her eyes.
Rachael set her homework down on her pillow and leaned over the back of her bed to spot her truck. It was lying a few feet away next to the closet. She gathered up her textbook, homework sheet, quill and inkbottle and made to climb down the ladder, only to discover, quite painfully, that the ladder was missing. She slid off her bed and onto the floor, holding her hands out to break the blow to her back, but not breaking the blow to her two wrists and they went surging with horrifying pain. She let out a shriek of pain.
She slowly lifted her arms up, felt the pain once more, and saw both her wrists hanging limply. She tried to move them, but quickly stopped.
Darn it! she thought angrily, God, they’re broken!
She heard three sets of footsteps running towards her room; all light steps so she knew immediately who it was… and it didn’t make the situation much better. She stood up quickly, ignoring the pain she was experiencing and very carefully, picked up her homework and textbook and hurried it over to her trunk, which was thankfully open. She dropped them into the contents and slammed it shut with her foot. Hearing the footsteps approach, she quickly ran over to the spot where her inkbottle smashed, leaving a considerably large black stain on the rug, and stood on it.
The door opened revealing three blonde haired, blue-eyed girls. The first was none other than Becky Beckham, the leader of the Three B’s. She was closely followed by her two friends Brandy Culkin, and Brenda Lewis; both of them were on top of Rachael’s crumb list, just below Becky of course. They were going on about the usual junk, their hair, boys, their looks, boys, their figures, did I mention boys? They stopped when they saw Rachael, who was busy trying to look as innocent and pained as possible.
“Oh,” said Becky, her voice full of disgust, as it usually was when Rachael was present. “You’re still in here?”
“Yeah, I am,” Rachael retorted coldly. “What’s the deal with taking my ladder down, huh?”
Becky and her friends tried to look innocent, but innocent was just something they weren’t.
“We didn’t,” said Brandy in that horribly annoying high-pitched voice of hers.
Rachael cringed. Yes you did and because of that I know who to blame when I tell Ms. Marshall why I’ve got two broken wrists!”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Becky snarled.
“Oh wouldn’t I? MS. MARSHALL!”
Immediately heavy footsteps came scurrying down the hall and the door burst open.
“What is it?” Ms. Marshall, a kindly looking old woman, asked breathlessly.
“The three geniuses decided to take the ladder away, so because of that I fell and got two broken wrists.”
Ms. Marshall shot a furious glance at the Three B’s and went over to Rachael. She asked her to hold out her arms and she would poke each wrist asking if it hurt.
“Yes it does!” she answered, her eyes tearing in pain.
“Come on.”
She led Rachael out of the room and down towards the infirmary. Being that Rachael was there countless times the nurse, Mrs. Peddington, wasn’t surprised to see who it was when the door opened.
“What happened this time?” she asked.
“Her roommate pulled a little joke and she’s got two broken wrists.”
Remus Lupin sat at the kitchen table of his house. He had also been doing his homework, just as his sister had been. But he had gotten distracted by his mother bustling into the room, holding a very familiar owl… Emerald.
“Do you know whose owl this is?” she asked him furiously.
Remus wasn’t sure whether to nod or shake his head. His mother raised an eyebrow. “It’s my sister’s,” he said slowly.
Her eyes flashed angrily at the mention of the word. She set the owl down, though it was unnecessary because the owl just went fluttering around the room. She took the parchment envelope and tore it open. She thrust the envelope on the table and began to read the letter.
“Mum,” said Remus, making to take the letter. “She sent it to me, so shouldn’t I read it?”
She didn’t answer him; she just continued to read the letter.
Dear Remus,
Hi, how’s your summer been? Mum treating you all right? I hope she is… But anyway, it’s been okay here up until an hour or so ago. (Just so you know I’m dictating this to Ms. Marshall as I’m writing impaired for the next three weeks) my brilliant roommate decided to take the ladder off my bunk so I fell off it and broke my wrists… great isn’t it? So… hear from James, Sirius or Peter lately? Wonder how they’re doing. Write back if you can.
Love,
Rachael.
For a moment it looked as though his mum was actually going to give him the letter. But instead she tore it up into halves, then fourths, then eighths and went to the window and tossed the pieces outside.
“Mum!” Remus yelled. “What’d you do that for?”
“I will not have her communicating with you!”
With that she burst out of the room. Remus slumped back in his seat. How could she do that? Did she have no heart? No conscience? She was just an empty shell that was kept alive out of anger and spite. He wanted to write to his sister, but he knew if his mum saw his owl flying off she would know where it was going. Why was his mother such a… such a… jerk?
Even though she loved him… he knew he could never love his mother back. She was just a cold hearted, evil woman. How could someone be so cruel…?