starlit supernova
❛ v. dementors and dreams ❜

━━━━━ IT WAS QUITE possible that Nova was having the worst week of her life. And it all started with that fucking letter and Headmaster Dumbledore.

               Nova always held some unspoken hatred towards it; an unspoken animosity that would only appear between life-long friends split apart by unfortunate circumstances — people who had once been friends, but turned adversaries. And she understood why, she knew exactly why. It consumed her thoughts too much to be healthy. It led her on a wild goose chase. Because of it, she ran into dead end after dead end.

               And the strain of her relationships — every important relationship in her life. Every sad look her parents gave her, every silent eye roll her friends shared as she started on again about the letter, every heavy sigh that was filled with annoyance. All of that led back to the yellowing paper given to Nova on her eleventh birthday.

               She knew they were sick of it, and so was she. But Nova couldn't just ... She had always wondered why her mother would give her up. To Nova, it sounded like her biological mother did, truly wanted her. They always said a mother's love was one of the strongest things in the world, so why would her mother just give her up?

               And that's not even the end of it; Sirius Black was showing his ugly face.

               Close to the beginning of the year, at the dinner after their first lesson with Hagrid, Nova's friends had told her about some stuff the Daily Prophet was reporting. Stuff about Sirius Black having escaped Azakabn, something that was supposed to be impossible to do. She chalked it up to just Daily Prophet bullshit — they weren't very reliable, you know.

               Let's just say that Nova had been wrong to chalk up the accusations of Sirius Black escaping. Very wrong.

               It was the night after the Halloween Feast. A measly two hours after the feast had ended, to be exact. The Hufflepuff common room was alight and warm with the buzz of students, but then their head of House — Professor Sprouts — barged in and told them to collect themselves and their wands, and then to follow their prefects to the Great Hall. The Head of House made sure to instill fear in them so no overly curious students would go wandering the halls, looking for anything to try and connect the pieces as to what was happening.

               Not that any students (see in: Nova Holloway) would have to go looking very far. When all the Hufflepuffs filed into the Great Hall with the Slytherins from the Hogwarts' dungeons, the Great Hall was already buzzing.

               News spread fast in Hogwarts — Sirius Black, the resident mass murderer, had escaped Azakban. And he had shown his very gaunt face inside the walls of Hogwarts, looking for Harry Potter.

               And Harry Potter wasn't the only person with eyes on him. People were watching Nova.

               Weirdly enough, this was bothering her more than she expected it to. Nova had never been exactly bothered by having attention on her — if she wanted it, that is. And she did not want a particular set of three eyes on her. They brought bad news wherever they went.

               It was Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley. She wasn't sure when it had first started, only having first noticed the night of Sirius Black's attack, after she had woken up from another nightmare (another sighting of the Grim, her mother's shadowy face whispering Caroline and something about trusting the only family you have. Fun stuff.) Then she spotted it everywhere the three Gryffindors were. It was driving her mad. It was like three drills being pushed into her back. Some particularly pointed quills impaled her with every blink they took.

               She thought she might have been going crazy. She never had solid proof of their stares and whispers. Every time she tried to find out, by looking over her shoulder, walking past the Gryffindor table to "talk" to Neville, whatever else she could come up with, the three would stop immediately, turning their heads in the opposite direction of the Hufflepuff.

               And sure, the stares bothered Nova, but the nightmares bothered her so much worse.

               Nova had always had dreams. Everyone had dreams, sure, but her's were ... different. She dreamed of Harry Potter, You-Know-Who, people cloaked in black, flashes of green, and the sound of things heavy hitting floors. She dreamt of her biological parents, her biological mother whispering Caroline, and windy family trees that go back hundreds and hundreds of years. When she was young, before Professor McGonagall had shown up on the Holloways' front porch, she would tell her parents about her dreams. Unsurprisingly, they chalked it up to childhood imagination.

               It wasn't shocking, but it was hurtful. Her parents, the people who had adopted her, raised her and turned her into who she was today, didn't believe her. That was her first taste of betrayal; realizing she wasn't normal. She never spoke about dreams now for this reason. If her own parents didn't believe her, why would anyone else?

               The problem was, the nightmares were getting more frequent. She was blurring the line between real life and her nightmarish dreams. From her peripheral, she thought she might've seen a gigantic black dog stalking her in the shadows, teeth bared to snap at her whenever she was unprepared. She thought she would hear people whisper Caroline in her ears, even though the only people who knew her birth name wasn't Nova were people who would never do something like that to her.

               Nova always had nightmares, but that nightmare was rearing its ugly head on a nearly nightly basis. It was the nightmare she had seen on the train; when the dementor had floated inside her compartment. Not only was it becoming a nearly nightly thing, but she was seeing the dog — the Grim? — in the shadows. She could hear it bark at her, the sound ringing throughout the classrooms.

               Nova was never a good actor, and she sure as hell didn't have a good poker face. Her friends were starting to notice she would flinch at random times, whipping her head around to look at the dark corners of the room. But she couldn't tell them about it. They would never believe her.

✴

It wasn't purposeful, but Nova had started arriving at Defense Against the Dark Arts at the last minute. After that conversation with Professor Lupin about her boggart, Nova didn't want to talk to him. She didn't want him to ask any questions — mainly because she didn't have answers, but she also didn't want to talk about it. Talking about what happened made it real.

               Nova was the last person to duck inside the classroom, right as the bell rang above her head. The door closed behind her and she hurried down to her seat in the front. As she slid into her seat beside Emile, he nudged her in the rib.

               "What?" Nova looked at him.

               The Ravenclaw nodded to the front of the room, where Professor Lupin's desk was. She looked ahead, and her jaw dropped. "Professor Snape?" she asked, louder than she meant to be. She hadn't noticed it, hurrying inside, but the classroom had been eerily silent. That wasn't normal for the class; it was normally filled with excited chatter about whatever lesson was for the day.

               Emile cringed at her volume as the greasy-haired professor looked up from the book in front of him. Nova shrunk in her skin, sliding down in her seat.

               "Yes, Miss Holloway?" came the monotonous voice of the potions teacher. "What do you want?"

               "I — uh —" She glanced at the boy beside her, who only shrugged. "Where's Professor Lupin? Is he okay?"

               "He's fine. It's nothing life-threatening." Although Professor Snape said it as if that was a disappointment.

               "Is he sick?" asked Nova, her mind jumping back to the conversation with Harry and Lupin, where Professor Snape had brought the teacher a potion. She paled slightly. She had just thought Harry was being paranoid, his hatred of Snape taking over, but maybe the Gryffindor was right.

               Professor Snape stood up, giving her a cold look. "I believe that is Lupin's business," he said. "I don't think he would want his students to know all of his business, do you?"

               Nova pursed her lips, glaring at the head of Slytherin House. Snape took her silence as an answer and moved to stand in front of Lupin's desk. The students watched him carefully as he prowled the room. Some flinched as he closed the curtains inside with a wave of his wand.

               "As you can see, Professor Lupin is not here today," he spoke, breaking the silence. "And as Miss Holloway so carelessly asked, he is not feeling too well. He said he feels too ill to teach today. To ... protect his privacy, I will not say anymore. Now, onto the lesson; Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far —"

               "We've covered boggarts, Red Caps, kappas, and grindylows," Emile spoke up, putting his hand into the air.

               "Quiet, Mr. Hawkins," Snape said coldly. "I did not ask for information. I know for Ravenclaws it's hard to not continuously comment when no one asked. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organization."

               Nova frowned, opening her mouth to say something, but the professor beat her to the punch, "Do you have anything to say, Miss Holloway? Your commentating is no better than Mr. Hawkins."

               Ernie scowled from a couple of seats back. "She hadn't even said anything yet, Snape," he hissed. "Just because you have a stick shoved up -"

               "Professor Snape," Justin spoke up hastily, eyeing Ernie nervously, "they're just trying to —"

               "Oh, and I suppose you're Mr. Hawkins and Miss Holloway's liaison, are you?" Professor Snape said. His face was curled with anger. "I didn't ask for them to speak. I would suggest they learn how to hold their tongues next time. Although, I expect nothing less; easily satisfied with Lupin's lessons. Even first-years would be able to pass this class with the stuff he is teaching you. No, something more taxing is due. Today, we shall discuss —"

               Nova watched him grab the book from the desk and flip all the way to the back, where he must've known they hadn't covered.

               "Werewolves," announced Snape.

               "But, sir," Padma Patil spoke, an expression of confusion written across her face, "we can't talk about werewolves yet. Professor Lupin is going in order based on the book; we're supposed to talk about hinkypunks —"

               "Five points from Ravenclaw," Professor Snape cut her off, looking coldly in her direction; Padma's mouth clamped shut at his words. "Are you teaching this lesson, or am I? I will not be spoken to like this. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394."

               When the students stayed frozen, staring at him, he barked, "All of you! Now!"

               With many bitter sidelong looks and some sullen muttering, the class opened their books.

               "Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" said Snape.

               Everyone sat in motionless silence.

               "Anyone?" Snape said, a twisted smile on his face. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between —"

               "We told you," said Ernie hotly, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on —"

               "Silence!" snarled Snape. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are ..."

               He took a long look around the room. Many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were sliding down in their seats, trying their best to make themselves invisible to the cruel professor. Professor Snape's eyes locked on Ernie and Justin, and he pointed at the latter.

               "Since you felt the need to speak earlier, surely you know the answer, Mr. Finch," said Snape. "Perhaps you know the difference between a werewolf and a true wolf?"

               Justin mouthed wordlessly for a second. He looked shaken being put on the spot. "Um — I think ..." He trailed off. "Something to do with their snouts, and —"

               Snape narrowed his eyes. "Do you or do you not know the differences? I didn't ask for any answer to begin with 'I think.'"

               Justin shrank back, blushing to the root of his hair. "I — I don't know, then, sir."

               "I can't believe it," Snape said with a mocking tone. "I know school isn't your strong suit, but —"

               "What the hell?" Nova said angrily. "You groan about being disrespected, but you're the most disrespectful person I've ever met! Just because you're miserable with your shitty life, doesn't mean you have to go around being the biggest ass —"

               "I suggest you don't finish your sentence, Miss Holloway," Professor Snape advised with a sneer. "And five points from Hufflepuff for foul language. Now, as I was —"

               "You really can't expect us to know the differences," Emile spoke up suddenly. "The chapter over werewolves is in the back, we're at the front. Even I haven't read that far ahead, and if I had, that doesn't mean I would be able to rattle off that kind of information. Professor Lupin has us going at a pace that suits our class, if you can't accept that, you shouldn't be filling in for him."

               Professor Snape's eyes were cold as he glared down at Emile. "Ten points from Ravenclaw. And detention, Hawkins. If I hear anyone criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."

               No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. They sat and made notes on werewolves from the textbook, while Snape prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work they had been doing with Professor Lupin.

               "Very poorly explained ... That is incorrect, the kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia ... Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn't have given it three ..."

               When the bell rang, at last, Snape held them back. "You will each write an essay, to be handed into me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand. Mr. Hawkins, stay behind, we need to arrange your detention."

✴

The raging storm outside never once dampened the Hufflepuffs' spirits. It was quite hard to do as the typically warm and joyful common room had a bleak and grey feeling to it. The rain droplets sounded like hail hitting glass; the rolling thunderclouds sounded like Zeus had his toga in a particularly tight twist; the flashes of light looked like beacons of light were falling to the ground.

               Safe to say, there was one hell of a storm outside the Hufflepuff common room. But that wouldn't stop Quidditch. That never stopped Quidditch. Nothing ever stopped Quidditch.

               If it hadn't been a Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor game, Nova wouldn't have been going. But, alas, House pride and all. Also, Cedric Diggory had been talking about it for weeks — curse Nova for needing a tutor for Transfiguration. Cedric seemed so nervous about the game, and Nova figured he needed all the Hufflepuff support he could get.

               Now, don't assume Nova hated Quidditch; she just wasn't one to play the sport (or any sport, really). But if she was honest, the only part she loved was the thrill of the game. The tenseness of wondering how would win. Maybe if she didn't hate flying on brooms so much, she might've tried out for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.

               Nova adjusted the yellow headband in her hair, squeezing next to Ernie. He glanced at her, grinning slightly. "You want that Warming Charm?"

               She glared at him from under the black umbrella he had brought. "No."

               The rain pelted down harder than ever. Nova pulled her yellow jacket around her tighter, squinting through the Quidditch field. Vaguely, she could see seven scarlet figures staggering sideways as they walked out onto the field; and seven more figures cloaked in canary-yellow robes doing the same. The sea of yellow around her cheered even louder as the Hufflepuff team stumbled closer through the raging winds.

               The two teams met in the middle of the field; Cedric Diggory and Oliver Wood, the captains for the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor teams respectively, shook hands. Nova saw Cedric smile at Wood, but Wood looked as if he had lockjaw and merely nodded.

               Madam Hooch yelled to the two teams, and they soon parted ways, mounting their brooms. The wind was so loud that Nova wasn't even able to hear Lee Jordan commentating, and it wasn't like that boy was quiet.

               Five minutes in, and nothing exciting had happened yet. Pretty unusually for Quidditch-or maybe that was because the Slytherins weren't playing; those on their team liked to play dirty. Vaguely, Nova noticed the sky getting dark, as though night had decided to come early. And then the first flash of lightning hit and Madam Hooch's whistle resounded throughout the field.

               Nova tucked her hands inside her jacket, looking for any kind of warmth. "What's the score?" she yelled over the wind.

               "Gryffindor's ahead by fifty!" Ernie yelled back. "Which is totally stupid. One of the Weasleys nearly knocked Kay Formby over the head!"

               "I think that was an accident, Ernie," admitted Justin.

               "Oo! Oo!" Hannah shouted out, pointing wildly out to the field. "They're coming back!"

               And the fourteen players were soon back into the air. Nova's eyes wildly followed the players around. She couldn't tell what was happening through the sheets of rain pouring down. Maybe she saw Harry dodging a Bludger; Cedric striking through the air in the opposite direction of Harry.

               And then there was another clap of thunder, followed immediately by forked lightning. Nova flinched at the sound, glancing nervously at the sky. Then there was a second flash of lightning, illuminating everything around her. Nova gasped, spotting something that chilled her more than the icy rain ever could; the silhouette of an enormous shaggy black dog, clearly imprinted against the sky, motionless in the topmost, empty row of seats.

               Ernie looked over. "Nova?" he asked.

               Before he could respond, the crowd roared as one. People were yelling "Snitch!" and Nova looked over to the players to see Cedric and Harry streaking toward the area in the sky. Maybe they had seen the Snitch. Nova couldn't help but let her eyes travel back over to the area where she had seen the shaggy black dog, but no sight of it through the rain.

               The crowd of students watched the two Seekers. Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors kept yelling for their housemates alike. But something odd was happening. An eerie silence was falling across the stadium. The wind, though as strong as ever, was forgetting to roar. It was as though someone had turned off the sound, as though Nova had gone suddenly deaf — What was going on?

               And then a horribly familiar wave of cold swept over her. That same cold feeling from the train. The cold seeped into her skin and her DNA. Nova looked around wildly, and she spotted something moving on the field below.

               At least a hundred dementors, their hidden faces pointing up at him, were standing beneath the players. It was as though freezing water were rising in her chest, cutting at her insides. And then she heard something ... Someone was screaming, screaming inside Nova's head — a woman. A woman who sounded familiar:

               "Leave me alone! I know nothing!"

               "Traitor! A traitor to your kind!"

               "Traitor to who? People who would throw me away when I offer nothing anymore? I did what was best for me — for her —"

               "For who?"

               It was so, so cold. Nova clutched her ears, silently begging for the voices to go away. People were grabbing her by the arms, shaking her.

               "You said it yourself," the woman snarled. "A bad lot. Why even bother anymore?"

               "You are from that bad lot! Now — he wants to know; he said you would know!"

               "I don't know what you're talking about." The woman's voice was shaking; she was terrified.

               Then there was a shrill scream and angry yells, and Nova cried out in pain.

✴

She hadn't been lying about the nightmares. Even when she had passed out, they still plagued her like some unwanted disease. However, this time, it was different. She dreamed of a place, not a person.

               It was a room; a very disordered room, at that. It looked like it had been abandoned years and years ago. Layers of dust coated everything. The paper was peeling off the walls. Every piece of furniture inside was broken, smashed to pieces. Every single window was boarded up; to keep something out, or to keep something inside, Nova wasn't sure.

               The heavy clasp of fear tightened around her throat. Besides the state the room was in, nothing odd seemed to be happening. It was just the state of the room. And some looming feeling of dread; an omen maybe.

               Then she heard a bark, and Nova yelped loudly.

               Her own yelp jarred her awake. She sat up in a white bed, looking around to see a hoard of people draped in yellow surrounding her. Hannah leaned forward, looking close to tears. She wrapped her arms around the black-haired girl's neck, and said happily; "Nova!"

               Ernie appeared at the back of the crowd, with Madam Pomfrey in toe. He looked relieved to see Nova awake.

               Nova listlessly took the chunk of chocolate Madam Pomfrey gave her. "Wha-what happened?"

               "You passed out," said Justin, extremely pale. "It was so ..." He shook his head, gnawing on his bottom lip.

               Cedric Diggory sat on the edge of Nova's bed. He was still in his Quidditch uniform, drenched to the bone with rain water and covered with mud from the field. Madam Pomfrey made a noise of disapproval as he sat down. The Hufflepuff boy brushed his dark hair plastered to his forehead away.

               "The dementors appeared," he admitted. "It was chaos, everyone started panicking. I didn't notice until ..."

               "Cedric caught the Snitch," Hannah explained to Nova, brushing the girl's bangs down. "He feels really bad about it since ..." She glanced around the infirmary.

               "Since what?" asked Nova. "You caught the Snitch, Cedric?"

               He shook his head. "I caught it, but it's not fair. Harry passed out. Fell fifty feet, too. I want a rematch, but Oliver Wood says I won fair and square."

               "Potter passed out?" Nova squeaked.

               The Hufflepuffs around her all nodded together. Nova tried to peer around them all, looking for any sign of the boy. Madam Pomfrey stopped by again, chiding Nova for not eating any chocolate yet. Then she told the Hufflepuff Quidditch team to leave, scolding them for tracking in all sorts of dirt and mud.

               Cedric stood up and patted Nova's shoulder. "I'll come see you later, okay? We'll work on McGonagall's paper then."

               Nova nodded, still looking around for any sign of Harry Potter. About eight beds down, she saw Hermione and Ron standing around a bed. They kept looking over at the crowd of yellow and black. The Hufflepuff team trooped out on the orders of Cedric and Madam Pomfrey. Hannah, Justin, and Ernie remained. Ernie pulled a chair over and sat down; he looked shaken.

               "Tell me what happened," said Nova. "I want to know."

               Her three friends shrugged in unison.

               "The dementors showed up," Justin started. "And you started ... I don't know what, to be honest. You clutched at your ears; you were crying, too. And then you screamed, and then you passed out. Ernie caught you before you could fall. Potter passed out not long after."

               Hannah stared at Nova mournfully, like she was attending the girl's funeral. "Dumbledore was pissed. I've never seen him so angry. As Harry started to fall, the Headmaster ran out into the field. He waved his hand and Harry slowed before he hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away ... He was furious they'd come onto the grounds."

               "We left soon after," admitted Ernie. "Flitwick saw you pass out. He magicked you onto a stretcher and took you to the infirmary."

               Nova swallowed the chocolate in one bit. She didn't have any sort of appetite. Questions swirled around her mind, each one more confusing than the last. As far as she was aware, no one else had passed out because of the dementors — besides her and Harry. And not only had that happened once, but twice.

               Coincidences be dammed, there was no way that was all just coincidences.

✴  MAY 13TH, 2024  /  what i'm about to say is really random, and i know it is, but in the title chapter and first few chapters i was describing harry without saying whether he was white or desi - he's desi in this fic. 100% i only kept it vague because i couldn't find good pictures to use for my moodboards that fit with the harry in my head and i was lowkey brainwashed by the movies. so harry is desi in this. like, every time i write a scene with him in it, he was desi.

OH, and i haven't described nova too much, but i'll just say if i used a faceclaim for her, it'd be malina weissman, but like a variation of her that still had the bangs and blue eyes (i don't think that makes sense, but just go with me)

anyways, thoughts? opinions??

(not edited nor proofread)