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Just beyond the gardener's cottage and the vegetable patch sprawled a rolling lawn that stretched to the forbidden forest. January at Hogwarts was well into winter, the trees bare branched and the heather tinted white with frost. That didn't deter you from bundling up, packing your things, and finding a good bench to sit on as you watched the castle grounds awaken.
The morning sun crept over the trees, offering some warmth as its rays reached your skin. It had been two weeks since you arrived at Hogwarts for your residency, and you had managed to fall into a good routine. You spent your days studying all of the portraiture you could easily access within the castle. Sometimes, if the corridors were wide enough, you'd pull out your sketchbook and make studies of the paintings. These sketches couldn't speak like the originals could, but they moved around in simple recreations of whatever the original subject was doing. Lily, James, Remus, Sirius and Peter came to expect you to sit with them during meals, and whenever one of them saw you sketching in a hallway, they'd always say hello and ask after you.
Finding a bench overlooking the lawn, you pulled out your sketchbook. At the beginning of every year you purchased a new sketchbook and etched your surname and the year onto its spine. The pages still smelled freshly bleached and the spine cracked as you opened it up. Some paintings didn't like who you chose to draw them next to, in particular, two male wizards kept frowning at each other on either sides of the page. You got lost in looking through, entertained by the magic of them before something wet touched your knee. With a start, you looked over to see a gigantic bloodhound sniffing your socks.
"Oh!" you laughed, slowly reaching a hand over to the hound's face to see if they would let you pet them. The dog headbutted your hand, and you quickly obliged to give them pets. "Well hello there! Aren't you friendly?" The bloodhound enjoyed being scratched for a moment and then moved to sit on your feet, resting their weight on your legs. They were warm. You welcomed it and pet down their back and massaged their long ears. "Are you in charge around here?" you cooed, grinning.
You sat like that for a while, making notes next to your sketches as the bloodhound sat against you, keeping you company. The sun rose higher and higher into the sky, the frost melting on the lawn sending steam up into the morning light.
"FANG!"
You heard a voice roar in your direction. The dog spooked, standing up and looking towards the forest. You followed their gaze to a gigantic man marching up to the two of you.
"Uh oh," you whispered, looking down at the dog, "are you in trouble?" Fang whined in response as the burly man came into conversational distance. You stood up, patting the top of Fang's head before holding out your hand, introducing yourself with a smile. "Fang was just keeping me company!" you assured.
"Oh! Uh… Hagrid! Me name's Hagrid." He shook your hand so delicately it was as if you were made of tissue paper. Hagrid's entire hand covered yours like a mitt. Behind the black curly beard and hair, his bright eyes looked upon you with a warmth and ease that made you feel immediately comfortable. Hagrid's nose and cheeks were rosy with cold, and he was wearing a tent-sized coat made of moleskin. "Yeh a student here? Strange for me to not recognize a student."
You explained your residency, gesturing over to the gardener's cottage across the lawn.
"I should 'ave known!" he laughed, "I live just over there. I'm the grounds keeper 'ere but you're always welcome to come by an' say hi to Fang and me'self!"
The next morning when you woke up, there was a basket of freshly baked scones left for you by your door. Each scone was about the size of a dinner plate and beside them rested a note that read:
Had extra, hope you like gooseberries.
The hardest part about your residency was how little you knew about the castle. It immediately made you an obvious outsider amidst the 11 and 12 year-olds that appeared from hidden doors and passageways. You managed to distract yourself from embarrassment with your fascination of the school's magnificent art collection. Being stared at for sitting in a hallway and drawing for hours was worth it if it meant you could have a discussion with a painting of Etruscan witches.
Today, you tried to take advantage of the midday emptiness of the halls, as everyone attended classes. Walking through the corridors, you heard someone loudly and musically clear their throat.
"Excuse me!" you heard them sing out. Walking in the direction of the voice, you came upon a very tall, garishly bright painting of a woman who looked expectantly down at you. She gestured to the drawing materials that you held. "You haven't stopped to see me!" At this, the painted woman posed grandly. "Perhaps you were trying to save the best for last, but I couldn't wait. You see, I am the Fat Lady."
You obliged her without question- a painting with this much personality that felt this natural in a conversation was remarkable, even for Hogwarts. The Fat Lady was hung inside of a nook surrounded on either side by staircases. It made it particularly difficult for you to find a place to sit that would not obstruct the pathway, but you managed by forcing yourself up close to the banister.
Pulling out your sketchbook and resting it on top of your knees, you began to sketch her, dedicating an entire page to study her. The Fat Lady was pleased that you spent the rest of the afternoon drawing her. "How I missed this!" she exclaimed, fanning herself, "It's not very often I've been asked to pose in the recent decades!"
"Have you been at Hogwarts long?" you asked, grinning at her theatrics.
"Longer than a lady ought to say!" she replied, hiding her face behind her fan mysteriously. You raised a brow at her.
"Well, you must have been very important to someone, or the school?"
The Fat Lady was about to answer you, when you heard someone walking up from the stairs. "Sorry!" you said without looking up, tucking your legs beneath you and pushing yourself flush against the banister. "Hopefully you can get by!"
But the newcomer had stopped at the top of the stairs. You glanced up and were surprised to find Sirius Black's face grinning down at you.
"Sirius!" you blushed, flustered as you stood so that you wouldn't be greeting him from the floor. "What brings you to this part of the castle?"
Sirius looked surprised by your question, before his complexion smoothed over once more. "Oh, you weren't invited already then?" he was answered by the look of confusion on your face. Turning to the Fat Lady, Sirius slowly traced his finger around the edge of her painted hair, "Fat Lady…" he purred, looking into her eyes, "have you had a good time getting to know my dear friend this afternoon?"
The Fat Lady shivered, a large, satisfied smile taking over her face. "Can't you tell?"
"No-" Sirius replied, quickly continuing before the painting could react badly, "as you often have this… glow about you."
"Oh! Yes, yes I suppose you're right!" the Fat Lady sighed loftily in response.
You were lost. More than lost. You felt like you shouldn't be apart of this conversation. Did Sirius enjoy flirting with paintings generally, or did he just have a fondness for the Fat Lady? Your arms twitched as you fought the impulse to quickly pack up and excuse yourself from the scene, but you were stopped by a quick glance from Sirius as he whispered the word, "Barabirth."
The Fat Lady sighed dreamily, smiling at you as her frame swung loose on one side like a door opening, revealing a small tunnel. Sirius took your hand, pulling you closer. "In you go, love!"
"What? What is this?" you stammered, shoving your belongings into your bag.
"Calm down! I'll be right behind you!"
Trying to peer into the tunnel before crawling through, you squinted into the darkness to no avail. Sirius, impatient, stood behind you and slapped your hip, "Go on then!" he laughed.
You jumped a little at his touch, glaring at him in the little light there was. "I know this might shock you, but touching me isn't going to make me do what you want," you hissed over your shoulder.
Sirius' eyes widened with surprise, he shuffled to give you more space. "Mate, I-" he started, his voice lower, less animated. With a groan of ancient hinges, the Fat Lady's portrait swung closed again, engulfing you both in total darkness. You stood, unmoving, trying to allow your eyes to adjust.
"…Promise you'll enjoy it?" Sirius' voice came from the dark.
With a huff, you took careful steps forward into the darkness, before suddenly coming out on to the other side, into a grand sitting room. You were inside one of the highest towers of the castle, a large, round room that comfortably accommodated cozy furniture and spaces to work. Directly before you was a great hearth, in which a strong fire cracked and hissed. Burgundy sofas and chairs were placed around the fire, as well as the windows on the farthest sides of the room. Large tables lay ready and inviting for students to congregate. The wooden floor caught the fire with a honeyed light, blonde strands of wood grain glowed in veins around the floor. Brass fittings held together the hinges and light fixtures, coloring the tower scarlet and gold, the colors of Gryffindor.
There weren't many students in the tower, but they all walked around busily, pushing furniture to the sides of the room, decorating the great rafters with Gryffindor banners and flags, and hoisting several cases of butter beer on to the tables.
You turned to Sirius, smiling. "This is your common room? You've snuck me into your common room!"
Sirius winked at you before greeting his classmates and falling on to a couch near the fire. He patted the seat next to him. "Well," he sighed, reclining luxuriously and, resting his head on the back of the couch, he put his feet up on the table, "I couldn't invite you to the party tonight unless I gave you a way in." He flashed a grin, running his fingers through his wavy hair.
You sat beside him on the couch, if not with a little more distance than he had offered. You couldn't help but look around, leaning against the side of the couch as you turned to see more.
"Hufflepuff." Sirius said, squinting at you.
"What?" you asked, turning back to him.
"We've been trying to guess where you'd be sorted."
"I see." You grinned, sinking more comfortably into the sofa, you looked at him skeptically. "And why do you think I am a Hufflepuff?"
"Sirius makes everyone look like a Hufflepuff," a familiar voice said from behind you. Lily Evans greeted you with a smile so bright it was as if you'd been friends since childhood. Standing up, you two shared a quick embrace before you both came to join Sirius on the couch.
"How's it going?" Lily asked Sirius, who looked as if he was falling asleep.
"Got the butter beer from the Three Broomsticks last night with Peter." Without opening his eyes, Sirius pointed to where the Gryffindor students were unpacking it. "James and I let all the seventh years know. Remus said he was going to charm the room today but I don't know if he did, or where he is."
"Napping." Lily answered automatically, pushing her hair behind her ears. Sirius opened his eyes at that, sitting up straighter.
"You must all be exhausted finishing up the last year. I feel like I'm still recovering from my graduation in December." you said.
Without reply Sirius stood up, heading towards one of the staircases that spiraled up the tower. You watched him leave, concerned. Sirius could be so charming one moment and then so unpredictable and withdrawn the next. Lily nudged your shoulder with hers.
"I'm glad he found you! We'd been looking around all morning."
"What's all this for?" you smiled, warmed by their thoughtfulness.
"Just for seventh years! It is tradition to throw a little house party for ourselves before we graduate this spring. All the houses do it. Remus enchanted the room to push any younger students up the stairs, so it won't be too crowded and when things get rowdy I'll have slightly less to worry about."
Lily's head girl badge caught your eye that moment, pinned to her cloak. You felt excitement and nerves grip you as you imagined yourself enjoying a party inside Gryffindor house. "Is there anything I can do?" you asked, wanting to contribute.
Lily's grin widened as she contemplated. "Absolutely not! You just have fun and let me know if you need anything, alright?"
As the sun set, more seventh year Gryffindors returned to their house from dinner and classes. To stay out of the way of the students decorating, you kept to the sofa, quietly sketching Lily and Sirius as they went about finishing the preparations.
While sketching them, you were surprised to realize how much you had learned about your new friends within two weeks. Sirius was your fastest education, as the most extraverted of your new friends. You had found that Sirius had a habit for streaks of inconsiderateness, where his need for entertainment and escape overpowered his ability to be mindful of other's comfort. For some students he was an easy scapegoat to assign any trouble to; for others Sirius was a ready made phenomenon, waiting to be experienced. It was worrying to watch someone who was becoming your friend being treated within the confines of this binary, but Sirius seemed to welcome it, if not ask for it.
Around James, Lily, Peter and Remus it seemed as if Sirius didn't need to perform his personality as much. He was still loud, but not as loud. He was witty and playful, but if Remus slapped his hand, Sirius wouldn't try to get away with his antics again. There was a trust and a respect between them all that you envied and admired.
Lily and James were an entertaining pair. As a couple, the student body seemed to idolize them but within the closer friend group they actually bickered quite a lot. None of their arguments were ever too serious and it wasn't surprising considering that they were both strong willed and capable people. Lily had a way she liked things done and James loved to circumvent custom, tradition, and have a fun time while doing it. Their disputes always seemed to end with both of them being more accommodating, relaxed, and happy to understand more of the world together.
It would be no mean feat to appear equally as extroverted as James and Sirius, so it wasn't a surprise that Remus and Peter were harder to read. Among students, Remus treaded evenly between quietness and confidence, but around you he seemed to become shyer. Peter just seemed shy no matter what—and you were confused what he saw in his friendships with James, Remus and Sirius. Stories of James and Sirius being notorious bullies in their past years had made their way to you, with Peter seeming to tag along and Remus to mend whatever damage his friends caused. Even though Sirius and James had seemed to grow out of much of their past behavior, you could see a streak of their old selves in how they treated Peter.
Among the four, Peter was the most often made to feel little. Whether by Sirius constantly picking him up, pinching his cheeks, and patting the top of his head, or by James pressuring Peter into speaking to someone he fancied, you never really knew how to react to the types of attention given to Peter. It only confused you more to see how Peter vied for this attention, going great lengths to socially position himself to receive it.
The first underclassmen appeared through the tunnel, immediately slipping onto the wood floor. You watched as they were shot—as if on a slide—through the room and up either staircase to their dormitories. Some were shocked into silence as they magically accelerated up the stairs, others managed to shout one or two rude comments, but in either case were never seen escaping their dorms that night.
The room started to fill with the entirety of Gryffindor's graduating class. Remus was one of the last students to appear, walking down from the boy's dormitory. He was wearing a dark green knit cardigan and tan corduroy jeans that were both creased as if he had slept in them. As Remus approached, you noticed that his skin was paler than normal, his eyes bloodshot, the circles under his eyes more pronounced, and his cheeks flushed a bright rosy color.
"Hi," you greeted, conscious that the tone of your voice was potentially too gentle and concerned. It wasn't really any of your business if Remus was ill, he was the same age as you and could behave how he wanted. It was just that he looked like he was struggling to breathe comfortably, let alone party.
With one glance at you Remus gave an exhausted smile and shook his head. "Don't mind me," he assured. "I'm alright. One tries to overcompensate and do all of their coursework into the wee hours each morning so that they may attend a weekend grad party without fear of not being able to graduate, only to remember sleep is necessary."
You nodded knowingly, making space for him beside you on the couch. James came over with two large mugs of frothy butter beer and handed one to both of you. Remus gave James a skeptical look in response to the beer, but before he managed to say anything James was running off to give others drinks.
You took a sip of your butter beer and had to clear your throat abruptly. There was an absurd amount of fire whiskey mixed into the beer, spicing the usually mellow, creamy flavor with an intense warmth that slowly spread through you. You set the drink down, clearing your throat again as if you had just eaten a hot pepper.
"I should have guessed," Remus said, looking over at you. "You alright?"
"Yup," you gulped, "I was completely prepared for that."
Remus chuckled, turning to look into his cup before downing a quarter of it unflinchingly.
"Are you and fire whiskey old friends Remus?" you laughed, as you tucked away your sketchbook and supplies into your bag, tossing it off to the corner of the room. Remus took another large gulp, emptying half of the glass.
"No," he replied, his voice scratchier. "To be honest I'm more of a hot chocolate man myself." Remus set the drink down on the coffee table, his eyes shining slightly. You assumed it was the fire whiskey but Remus did look more comfortable.
Your face began to feel tingly and you noticed your body relaxing, your senses dulling just enough to smooth out any cares or anxieties the week had given you. The common room was warm, inviting, and comfortable, and you were beside one of the warmest and most inviting people you had ever met.
"Alright you two?" James asked from right behind you and Remus. With a start, you sat up straighter, realizing that you had just been staring and smiling at Remus instead of talking. Remus chuckled low and stood up, stretched, and walked around the couch to put an arm over James.
"Why wouldn't we be, Prongs?" he asked, grinning.
James gestured for you to come over, holding out his other arm. With a smile, you accepted, crossing around the couch to link arms with him and Remus. The three of you stood that way, taking in the surrounding scene of peers, as everyone delighted in their first sips of drink and allowed the week's worries to be drowned out in friendly conversation.
Across the common room you watched as Sirius and Peter carried a phonograph down from the boy's dormitories. Lily was rifling through a box of records, the majority of which was older swing albums, before arriving at more modern records."Looks like they remembered your record player, Mooney." James laughed, shaking Remus gently. You felt Remus shrug on the other side of James.
"Hopefully they can find something to their taste."
"Look at him," teased James in a fit of laughter, "I don't think Sirius knows how to make it play!"
You, Remus and James all fell into a fit of giggles watching Sirius work to enchant the record player to run without electricity. Suddenly music filled the space and a communal cheer rang out from all of the students.
With a glint in his eye, Sirius caught the three of you laughing at him and darted over, arching one eyebrow, playfully. "If you thought that was funny you must not have drank enough yet." he teased, having to shout a little over the loudness of the music.
James wiggled free of yours and Remus' arms, gesturing over to the table. "Hopefully the drink will hold out!"
You took a second to survey the room, many students were already on their second bottle, and a few had graduated to dancing near the phonograph. When you turned to look back at the group, you saw James holding his hand out to you.
"C'mon then-" he grinned, "Time to see if you can dance as well as you can draw."
You felt your cheeks go red hot. "What?" you laughed. You took his hand, despite the fact that your legs locked up and felt as if they would not budge.
"I expect a dance with each and every one of you lot." James warned, pulling you closer to him and glaring at Sirius and Remus. Remus was already getting pulled away to dance by Lily, and waved James away as the two of them fell into a silly dance it seemed they had done together before.
James smiled at you brightly, pulling you closer to the phonograph to dance. You both laughed as he spun you as well as himself a few times. James' movements were a little stiff, you wondered if he was sore from quidditch practice.
Lily stole you away to dance next, spending most of her song with you imitating popular muggle music video dance moves. Recognizing some of the dances, you quickly fell into the steps alongside her. James, Sirius, and Remus were so perplexed by your sudden dance coordination that they were falling all over each other in tipsy fits of laughter. Peter was beside them, taking deep drinks from his cup and shaking his head at the two of you, smiling.
You felt your heart beating strongly in your chest at the end of the song with Lily, so you made your way toward the couch Remus, Sirius and Peter were sitting on. Just before you were going to sit between Remus and Peter, Sirius stood up, moving beside to you to murmur, "let me make amends for how I acted before?"
"Amends?" you echoed, raising your eyebrows at him. "You must be a confident dancer."
You saw Remus frown at this before Sirius pulled you back into the crowd of dancers. Unlike with Lily, who you danced along side, or James, who led you into spins while also bumping into you, Sirius effortlessly pushed you into a step with him. It was immediately clear that he had grown up with dance classes of some kind, as you were expertly lead around the room without having to look down at his feet once.
"Do you think you would have liked to be a Gryffindor?" he asked, spinning you around.
"If this night is any indication, then yes," you laughed in reply. Sirius smiled genuinely at that, a smile so broad that it shocked your senses. It made you realize how carefully curated his reactions were most of the time. You tried to spin him. Sirius obliged, pivoting gracefully at the lead of your fingers, before quickly positioning himself to lead once more.
By the song's end, Sirius was leading you back to the couch that your friends had been resting at all evening. Bending one knee, Sirius draped you over his thigh in a dip so low you were able to see and wave to Peter, before being righted you once again. You gave him a small hug in thanks, and returned to the couch to finally catch your breath.
"Thirsty?" Peter asked you as you came to sit beside him. He offered you a fresh, cold glass of butter beer. You accepted it with a nod of thanks, excited to finally have a chance to learn more about Peter.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" you asked, leaning on the arm of the couch to better face him. Peter's eyes widened at your question, surprised by your undivided attention.
"Of course," he nodded, shrugging. "You've really blended seamlessly into our little friend group, haven't you?"
If his question hadn't taken you by surprise, his tone would have. It came off as aggressive, even though he was quite soft spoken. Impulsively you frowned, buying yourself time to think of how to respond by taking a drink from your cup; this time you weren't sure if there was any butter beer at all as the liquid burned down your throat. "Well-" you started uncertainly.
"Sorry," Peter quickly spoke, looking a little panicked. "I-I'm so shy. I'm not as eloquent as Remus or as smooth as Sirius… What I mean is, it's like you've been with us for much longer?"
"Oh!" you exclaimed, relieved, "I'm glad that you feel that way! I cannot tell you how much it has meant to me that you've all been so kind and welcoming." As you spoke, Peter downed the last of the drink in his glass. You noticed then, that there were several empty glasses around him and he was flushed from his clavicle to the tips of his ears. "And don't apologize… shyness isn't a bad thing!"
"It's okay," he leaned closer to you, "I'm used to it."
There was a pause as you tried to understand Peter's meaning, but you ended up just looking more confused, if not nervous. "Um-" you tilted your head at him, trying to think of how to respond.
Peter nodded towards Lily and James as they badly danced together, "head boy and girl… Lily being around all the time." he nodded to Remus, who was playing some card game with Sirius and a few other students, "Prefect." Peter stared at Sirius, grinning a little, "Sirius and I can still go off together though, he won't change."
You put down your drink, and looked into Peter's face. Those all sounded like good things, things Peter should be happy about. But before you could reply he continued.
"…and now you're becoming a part of it all, too. And you're talented, and- and interesting. Attractive… soon enough, I'll be forgotten!" he laughed as if it was a joke, but you sat there unsure of how to react, mouth slightly open. Peter leaned closer to you, the aggravation coming back into the tone of his voice, "maybe I'll be surprised."
As if time slowed, you watched as Peter made to rest his hand on your thigh. You jumped away, standing up as quickly as you could. "I'm tired," you said, voice low, unwilling to meet Peter's eyes. "I'll see you later."
Quickly crossing the room to collect your bag and cloak, you felt your chest and throat tighten as you fought the impulse to quietly flee instead of thanking your friends for the invitation. Lily had vanished from the dance floor, but James was going strong. You awkwardly approached the table Sirius and Remus were playing cards at, unable to help biting your lip to mitigate some of tension winding inside of you.
Upon seeing your face, both Remus and Sirius looked concerned. "Alright?" asked Remus, pushing his chair back as if he was about to stand up.
"Brilliant," you replied, gesturing for him to keep his seat. You tacked a smile onto your face to assure them. "Just saying thank you, and goodbye. You've all worn me out."
"You want some company back?" Sirius asked, his expression softening as he read your demeanor.
"That's alright," you sighed, pulling on your cloak, "James is busy dancing and I couldn't find Lily but would you please tell them thank you as well?"
You pulled yourself through the tunnel and back out to the dark, quiet castle. With a large sigh you began to make your way to the gardener's cottage. Your emotions were such a mix of happiness and uncertainty that you felt frustrated. Peter was drunk, you rationalized, he was hardly making sense… it would be unfair to judge him off of that conversation.
By the time you fell into your bed, sheets warmed by the dim fire just beyond, you were smiling. How could a stupid, drunk conversation like that ruin a night where your new friends had wanted you at their house party? Where you sketched and talked, where you were asked to dance?
The trek from the castle to Hagrid's home was a good walk. Out of the entrance hall, you had to pass the garden, the lawn, and all of the greenhouses before you reached Hagrid's pumpkin patch at the edge of the forbidden forest. Carrying one of the largest canvases you had brought and all of your supplies, you walked a little more slowly than usual. A few nights prior you had tinted the canvas with a wash of burnt umber—a deep, neutral brown. You smiled the entire walk to Hagrid's home, eager to be welcomed in to the warmth and brightness. Resting the canvas against your leg, you moved to knock the front door but it swung open right before you could.
"If we don't leave now we will be late, Ronald."
"When did you start to call me- Oh!" a boy with ginger hair almost walked into you. He looked up at you, eyebrows raised, and you pivoted away from blocking the door.
"Sorry!" you smiled at the students, waving to Hagrid from inside. "I'll let you come through!"
"Thanks," the boy answered, continuing to bicker with the frizzy haired girl who followed closely after him. "C'mon Harry!" he called over his shoulder, "if we don't get to Herbology in five minutes, the world will end."
Another, smaller boy ran out of Hagrid's home, and before you could even get a good look at him you felt your heart hit the floor of your stomach. Even his silhouette reminded you so much of James that your breath caught in your throat. Harry Potter turned to grin at you, eyes bright as he thanked you for holding the door and then shot off.
You stood a moment, leaning against the door as you tried to compose yourself. You knew that you might see him here, but it had caught you by such a surprise. Hagrid called after you, and with a squaring of your shoulders you picked up your materials and walked into his home.
An overwhelming scent filled your senses as you closed the door behind you. Hagrid sat in a large chair near his fireplace in a full suit. You could see beads of sweat fall from his hairline. His mass of hair was tied up on the top of his head in a large bun, and Fang whined from the other side of the home, hiding. Through watering eyes you smiled at him, "Hagrid-" you started, trying not to cough, "are you wearing… cologne?"
"Why?" Hagrid replied, eyes widening.
"Oh it just smells very nice in here," you quickly assured, clearing your throat, "almost as nice as you look!"
Hagrid beamed at this, though he gestured to his costume with a sense of insecurity. "I didn't know what to wear so I thought that this might do?"
You made yourself comfortable on a chair across from him, a healthy distance from the fire. "Certainly!" you agreed, smiling. "This is all about how you want to look and what makes you the most comfortable. Now, if you're ready for me to forever immortalize you in your current fashion-" you began to pull out your materials and prop the canvas up on your lap.
"Hold on just a-" Hagrid started, standing up nervously. "I… I'm not sure if I- You want tea?" He took several large steps over to his kettle, and filled the pot. You looked over your shoulder to see him trying to decide between two types of tea.
"Hagrid," you cooed, "why don't we just catch up for a little bit and not worry about the painting?"
"Aye," he responded, immediately looking more relaxed, "that'd be nice."
Moments later, Hagrid had given you a large cup of tea with an equally large sized slice of treacle. He slipped off the suit jacket and returned to his seat to enjoy his own mug of tea, opening the window behind him to cool down the home. "So," he started, leaning forward on his knees, "have you made it down to the Hog's Head Tavern since you've arrived?"
You laughed, "No I haven't! That's in Hogsmeade?"
"Aye, got all sorts of interestin' folks that come in there." Hagrid mused, his dark eyes catching the fire. "Quite a fun scene too on late nights, good music and dancin'."
"Sounds like you'll have to take me and show me around," you suggested, nonchalantly grabbing your sketchbook.
The afternoon was quickly spent up as you and Hagrid talked through your recent pasts, sharing stories and doing your best to make each other laugh. Fang came to rest his head on Hagrid's knee, which was perfect reference for the sketches you were secretly making. You amassed a good collection of Hagrid studies as he told story after story, and you felt satisfied that it would be enough to lay in the painting with some charcoal.
"Well!" you grinned, standing up, "I better get back to my studio to keep working but Hagrid… this has been so, so nice. Please let me know the next time you're going to Hogsmeade, I would love to join you."
You picked up your teacup and treacle dish, bringing it over to the sink as you heard Hagrid say, in a lowered tone, "were you alright with seein' him?"
Your heart threatened to sink again, but you steadied yourself with a big breath. "Oh Hagrid I can't answer that-" you confessed, turning back to face him. "I don't get to feel anything about Harry. I knew James and Lily more as students, not parents." You shook your head, brow knitting into a deep furrow as you contemplated your words. "It's you who should be asked that-" you sighed, stepping over to him. "You're the one who has seen James, Lily and Harry grow up."
Hagrid frowned, placing his giant hand over the top of your head. "Now," Hagrid retorted, "don't you walk out o'here thinkin' that just cause you'd seen 'em less you were less to 'em."
You closed your eyes, and after a meditating on Hagrid's words, you nodded. Leaning over, you wrapped your arms as best you could around him and squeezed a big goodbye hug.
Walking back to the castle you couldn't help but take your time. You didn't notice that you passed by the gardener's cottage, or that you had almost run into Professor Sprout on the way up to the faculty quarters. You didn't even realize that you'd managed to get back to your room until you were already sitting on your bed.
Automatically, your hand reached underneath your bed for your suit case. Unlocking it with a tap of your fingers, you pulled out a worn sketchbook that held the date 1978 on the spine. The book spilled open, the binding worn through, and pages fell all around your lap and spilled onto the floor. Dozens of sketches of them—Sirius winking at the viewer, Remus trying to read while James demanded attention, Peter and Lily laughing as Remus bickered with Sirius. They were yellowed, water stained, and faded but the images still flickered and moved quietly, preciously. Even before you lost touch with them all, you had enjoyed looking back at these sketches, remembering those five months as if they had been spun from gold.
Your hand fell to a sketch that took up the entire page. A drawing of you from behind, facing a black forest. The trees arced sharply towards a full moon as the silhouette of an enormous wolf surrounded you, flanked by a stag and a hound. You wrinkled your nose at it, trying to remember what dream it was a part of.