Chapter Text
The next day, Jeannie finds herself yet again holed up in the library in between her classes, this time surrounded by her brother and his friends. With OWLs coming up at the end of the term, she’s been more concerned than ever about her marks - not only does she have to worry about struggling through her more troublesome classes, like History of Magic, but she has to spend a ton of time studying for her electives too if she wants to score high enough to keep taking them at NEWT level.
All on top of getting through her usual workload and preparing for normal exams. Like the Potions exam at the end of the week that she’d neglected even thinking about until now.
The entire table is covered in sprawled out books, each of them marked up messily with hastily-made annotations in an attempt to keep track of everything she needs to learn. Beside her, Remus is digging through a hefty stack of parchment, searching in earnest for his old notes to try and help her cram.
James and Sirius both claim that they’re here for moral support, but they haven’t done much more than prattle loudly since they’ve sat down. Peter hasn’t said too much, but Jeannie’s inclined to mind his presence a lot less when he spends most of his time engrossed in what looks to be a muggle comic book. With James and Sirius not allowing for even a second of quiet, Peter’s silence is much appreciated.
Despite the boys’ blathering being more of a distraction than a help, she still manages to focus pretty well on memorizing the steps to brewing a Draught of Peace. She reads and rereads the instructions and ingredients thoroughly, desperately hoping to get a good enough grasp on the potion in the next half an hour to at least score an A.
1. Add powdered moonstone until the potio-
“Jeannie!” James cries out suddenly, resting his head in his hands and staring at her with owlish eyes. She ignores him.
1. Add powdered moonstone until the potion turns green
2. Stir until the po-
“Jeannieeeee,” he whines, beginning to pout. She rubs her eyes in irritation, trying to stay concentrated on the page in front of her.
1. Add powdered moonstone until the potion turns green
2. Stir until the potion turns blue
3. Add powdered moonstone un-
“Jeannieeeeeeeeeee-”
She slams the book shut and sends him the harshest glare she can muster.
“What do you want, James?” she scowls, rubbing at her temples. She doesn’t have the time to do this - she has an entire four weeks of content to memorize, and only a day to do it. As much as she cares for James, she really can’t stand him right now. Even worse, knowing him, he’s probably just going to ask her something useless he’d thought up in his state of boredom.
“Where do you think dementors come from?” he asks, looking genuinely distressed. “Do they have mums?”
Beside him, Sirius lets out a snort, struggling to stifle his laughter behind his hand.
“I don’t know, James,” she responds, hoping her disinterest will get him to leave her alone.
He looks affronted, opening his mouth to, likely, complain that she should be more invested in such a troubling issue, but he’s interrupted by a soft “Aha!” from Remus before he can.
Her brother pulls out a few pieces of parchment from the stack, holding them up with a proud look on his face.
Oh, thank Merlin.
She hastily grabs the notes from him, flipping through them gingerly. They’re perfect. They outline everything Slughorn’s gone over in class simply, condensing the information and making it significantly easier to follow.
She sends him an appreciative smile, getting started on copying them down as quickly as possible. When James realizes she’s too engrossed in her work to be a good conversational partner, he goes back to talking with Sirius, seemingly moving onto a new topic.
The group continues in relative peace just long enough for her to copy the bulk of the notes down - probably only about ten minutes - before James and Sirius explode again.
She’s actually quite impressed at how long they managed to hold out.
It’s at this point, listening to their roars of laughter, that she gives up her studying endeavors, resigning to copy Remus’ notes later in the private sanctuary of her bed.
She really needs to learn how to say no to James when he asks if they can all tag along.
She cleans up her mess of books with a flick of her wand, gathers them into her arms, and sets off to return them to the shelves she found them, hoping to avoid the inevitable wrath of Madame Pince. She peruses the rows of bookcases leisurely, running her fingers along the spines and humming softly to herself. As much negative association she has with the library, she never fails to be impressed by the beauty of it. Some of these books have been here for centuries. She forgets herself for a bit, lost in the moment of peace in such a magnificent place.
A soft “ahem,” from behind her makes her jump in place, nearly spilling the books she’s carrying onto the floor. After taking a few deep breaths to calm her heartbeat, she turns to the offender, ready to complain about being snuck up on so suddenly.
Peter stands in front of her, looking apologetic.
“Sorry about that,” he says with a sheepish wince, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Oh, she can’t yell at Peter. That would almost feel like a crime.
“Oh, it’s quite alright,” she reassures, dusting off her uniform skirt. “Just don’t be sneaking up on people like that, yeah? You might get yourself socked by the wrong person.”
“Sorry,” he repeats with a frown. She waves off the apology, readjusting the books in her hold to just one side.
He stands idly, staring at his shoes. When he doesn’t make any move to say anything, she clears her throat awkwardly.
“Yes, well… did you need something?”
“Uhm… yes! Yes I did. I actually came to… ask you a favor?” he responds, fidgeting.
She motions for him to continue, offering what she hopes is a reassuring smile.
“Do you… do you think you would be able to get something for me? From the greenhouses?” he asks, his voice lowering to a whisper.
Damn. She’d really rather not.
“Could you not… get it yourself?” she replies, hoping it doesn’t come off too harsh.
It’s not like Jeannie’s against helping Peter. He’s a sweet boy, and she’s sure he would help her in a heartbeat. And she trusts Peter to not try and get her into trouble - she doesn’t, however, trust James and Sirius not to put him up to getting her into trouble.
“No,” he answers, looking sullen. “I’m not really… supposed to have it.”
“I’m not going to help you guys with another prank,” she says firmly, cutting to the chase. “Do you not remember the week's detention I’m serving because I agreed last time?”
“No!” he says again, this time more frantic. “It’s not for a prank, I swear!”
“It’s not?” she questions, unconvinced.
He shakes his head vigorously.
“It’s not! On my life, it’s not.”
“Then why can you not get it yourself ? If you aren’t supposed to have it, I’m not either,” she reminds him. “I’d rather not risk myself getting in trouble.”
“None of us are allowed in the greenhouses!” he exclaims. “We got caught sneaking in using James’ invisibility cloak in third year and Sprout banned us. If we get caught, we’d be in way more trouble than you would.”
“And this is convincing me to sneak into the greenhouses to help you tossers with a prank how?”
“Not a prank,” he mumbles. “I really can’t tell you what it’s for… it’s just really important to me, okay? More important than I could even say. Your help would mean the world to me. To us. We’d owe you for life.”
She hesitates - she wants to say no. Just like she should’ve said no last time, she should say no this time. She needs to learn to stick up for herself.
Peter must notice her uncertainty, because he leans in closer before continuing, quieter.
“It would mean the world to James.”
Oh, what a git.
But, of course, it works. Just like it always does. Damn her fragile heart.
It’s not like getting into the greenhouses would even be hard. Sprout gave Ruth a key last year so she can keep up with her gardening - she can just borrow it and she’ll be in and out in minutes.
“Fine,” she agrees begrudgingly. “Just help me put these bloody books away and tell me what you need.”
He hurriedly grabs some of the books out of her arms, following her when she retreats to a different aisle.
“We just need some mandrake leaves,” he explains quickly, struggling to keep up with her steps. “At least three, but as many as you could grab, ideally. If you want, you can borrow the cloak.”
She waves off the offer.
“Don’t need it,” she says over her shoulder, slotting a book into place. “I’ll go tonight, I’ll just take Ruth’s key. You’ll have them by tomorrow.”
He sends her a small, grateful smile, before focusing on the pile of books in his arms.
They finish putting up the rest of the books together, before heading back to the table. To her surprise, James and Sirius managed to avoid getting kicked out. Maybe miracles are real.
She sees Peter flash them a subtle thumbs up out of the corner of her eye - James and Sirius erupt in cheers, earning a harsh “Shhh!” from Madame Pince, and Remus’ face brightens into a soft smile, making her grin in return.
“Y’know, Halloween is coming up,” Sirius starts when she sits back down. “This weekend.”
“Uh huh,” she hums, beginning to pack up the rest of her things.
“We’re having a party in Gryffindor Tower. You should come,” James picks up, nodding his head.
She pauses, unsure. She’d be invited to quite a few of the boys’ parties over the years, but it’s pretty rare she actually goes. A bunch of drunk Gryffindors can be a recipe for absolute disaster.
“Oh, I don’t know…”
“Please,” he implores. “You can even bring a friend, or something. It won’t be the same without you there.”
How is she supposed to say no to that?
“Alright,” she assents with an easy smile. “I suppose I can fit it into my schedule.”
The boys’ dissolve into another round of cheers, earning another glare from Madame Pince.
She laughs lightly at their antics, looking around the group fondly - sometimes she forgets how great her friends can be.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Getting Ruth’s key was significantly easier than she had expected. She knew she would give it up eventually, but she had just waved Jeannie to her trunk to grab it herself when she asked, intensely reading a loose piece of parchment. Odd.
Choosing not to look a gift horse in the mouth, she simply proceeds to the greenhouse, armed with the key. She’ll ask Ruth about it later.
To her displeasure, the rest of her studying had taken her longer than anticipated, forcing her to leave after detention - meaning, after curfew. Prefects were doing their rounds, so sneaking up to the main level of the castle to start towards the greenhouses was more difficult than she would’ve liked.
She really should’ve taken the bloody invisibility cloak.
She narrowly avoids confrontation with Patricia Rakepick on the stairwell, clinging desperately to the wall and just barely missing the gleam of her wand. She deserves some sort of compensation for this.
She makes it to the east wing with no further incident, thankfully. With the greenhouses now within view, she grows more confident, choosing to move more quickly instead of tiptoeing around.
The issue with this tactic quickly becomes apparent. Unable to light her wand in fear of drawing attention to herself, she’d relied on the little light coming from the sconces on the walls on the way here. Now, in the open corridor, there’s no such lighting - so, she speeds through the courtyard blindly, praying that she doesn’t smack into a wall.
The good news is that she manages to steer clear of any walls.
The bad news is that she definitely smacks into a person.
“Ow!” she yelps, stumbling backwards. Bollocks.
“Agh,” the mystery person groans in pain. She can’t make out their face, nor does she immediately recognize their voice - she can only hope whoever it is is somebody she can reason with.
“I’m so sorry,” she rushes out, pawing for her wand so that she can examine the damage.
They beat her to it, muttering a lumos and lighting up both of their faces.
She hopes she doesn’t look as horrified as she feels.
“Lupin,” Regulus Black acknowledges her resignedly. “I should have expected nothing less - is it truly your mission to torment me for the rest of my days?”
“Please don’t report me to Dumbledore, ” is all she can manage to say, distraught. She cannot survive any more detentions. Professor Flitwick had her alphabetizing his personal journal entries earlier. She had learned things about him she’d never wanted to know. Ever.
“I- what?” he asks, befuddled. “Why shouldn’t I? You’re nowhere near your common room and it’s half an hour past curfew.”
“Please. I’m just doing a favor for a friend, and I’ll be done and back in my comm0n room within fifteen minutes. Please just do me a solid this one time,” she begs, worrying her lip between her teeth.
He just scoffs in response.
She’s, once again, a little insulted.
“Lupin, I’m a prefect. You can’t expect me to not do my job just because you ask nicely.”
She’ll admit it - at this point, Jeannie begins to panic. Her mind races, desperately trying to come up with anything that would convince him to let her go.
“If you report me I’ll… I’ll tell Rosier that we actually did shag,” she tries, wincing at the poor attempt at blackmail. She would admittedly rather not tell anybody any such thing - who knows who gossip like that could get back to.
“That’s really not the threat that you think it is,” he responds amusedly, his lips turning up at the corners.
She huffs, frustrated.
“Okay, okay, fine. Report me if you want,” she gives up. “Just please let me finish what I came here for first. I made a promise and I’d feel horrible breaking it. It seems like it’s really important to them.”
He stays silent for a moment, seeming bewildered.
Jeannie doubts he’d actually be kind enough to help her do much of anything, but she’d feel like she’d failed Peter if she didn’t even try to persuade him. So, she gives him the most pleading look she can muster, wringing her hands nervously.
“... I’ll have to accompany you,” he says finally, looking pained.
That’s… not what she expected him to say.
She’ll take it though.
Her face brightens into a wide smile, and on instinct, she throws herself towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck into a tight hug.
“Thank you so much!” she exclaims, her voice muffled by his shoulder.
He stiffens as soon as they make contact, his arms falling uselessly to his sides. When she comes to her senses and realizes who she is hugging and why he isn’t hugging back, she pulls away quickly, taking a few steps backwards.
She stands awkwardly across from him for a moment, brushing off invisible dust from her skirt. She looks around in an attempt to avoid his eye, but it’s quickly apparent that the corridor is still pitch black apart from the small portion lit by Regulus’ wand.
He clears his throat, breaking the short silence that’d grown between them.
“What is it you need to do, Lupin?” he asks, voice strained. His eyes dart around them anxiously, likely afraid someone else will come and catch him helping her any moment.
“I just need to get something from the greenhouses,” she answers. “I have a key, and I think I know where to find it. I swear it won’t take me long at all.”
“Very well then,” he responds, clipped, before brushing past her in the direction of the greenhouses. She hurries after him, the only sound in the corridor the echo of their shoes on the stone.
They don’t say much else on the short walk to the greenhouses, but Jeannie does notice his eyes wandering down to her every now and again. She supposes she probably does look quite flustered after practically pleading for her life.
They agree that he will wait outside and keep watch while she gets the leaves for Peter. She unlocks the doors and makes her way inside swiftly, scanning the rows of plants for the mandrakes. She spots them alongside a rack of earmuffs, and makes her way over.
She slips on a pair of earmuffs, just in case. She’d really rather not be killed trying to do Peter a favor, much less with Regulus waiting for her outside.
Now that’d be an embarrassing way to go. Death by mandrake, found by Regulus Black. She can just imagine the article in The Prophet now.
She carefully plucks as many leaves as she can from the small plants, thankfully not disturbing any of them - they seem to all be asleep.
She clutches the bundle of leaves, slipping them into the pocket of her robes, before putting back her earmuffs and turning on her heel to head back towards the entrance. Once outside, she locks the greenhouses back up with a sigh of relief and looks back to Regulus with a smile.
“Alright, all done,” she says, only getting a nod in response.
When he begins walking again, she follows him. She dreads being brought to the headmaster, but she’s thankful he at least let her get what Peter needed. She supposes it’s more than she should expect from somebody she barely even knows.
They head back inside to the main halls, and they only make it a short way before she realizes they are not walking towards the staircase to Dumbledore’s office. Her face scrunches up in confusion.
“Erm, Regulus?” she starts, tugging on the sleeve of his robe. He looks back at her with a raised brow, grunting in acknowledgement. “Where… are we going?”
“The Hufflepuff basement,” he responds coolly. She waits for him to continue, but soon realizes he isn’t going to offer anymore explanation.
“Why aren’t we going to Dumbledore?” she asks, perplexed. Did he really forget where he found her?
He stops walking with a sigh, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.
“Lupin, it’s late. I’d like to get to bed just as much as I reckon you do. I’m doing us both a favor by just bringing you back to your common room.”
“You’re… you’re helping me? Willingly?” she gapes at him, taken aback.
“Don’t read too much into it,” he grumbles, before continuing towards the kitchens.
They make it back without any interruption, and she finds herself yet again plagued by the task of sending Regulus off. Truly, when did her life take this direction?
“This is becoming a bit of a trend,” she murmurs as they stand outside of her common roommate yet again.
He snorts in response, looking at her in a way she can’t quite decipher.
“Well, it almost feels like you’ve been seeking me out, Lupin,” he says drily, but the tugging at the corner of his lips gives away his mirth. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Black,” she laughs, the small smile on her face matching his. They stay like that for a moment, smiling, before she comes back to herself. “Well, goodnight, then,” she says, almost fondly, before heading inside, not giving him a chance to respond.
Once back in the safety of her common room, she leans against the door with a groan.
Evelyn’s going to kill her.