0106: Broken Mirror - Laurel Raegan

Jul 20, 2003 07:25

Chat conversation between myself and LotRSues:

Pansy-Sue: is Livejournal working for you?
Lalaith: Nope
Pansy-Sue: Okay.
Lalaith: I'm irritated.
Pansy-Sue: And I'd found a really good one, too...
Lalaith: Aw, sucketh.
Pansy-Sue: And by 'good' I actually mean good... until the Sue started angsting along with Viva Forever. It was all downhill from there.
Lalaith: First ff.net, then livejournal! The goddess of Mary Sues is conspiring against us!
Lalaith: Heh
Pansy-Sue: hpff.com is down, too.
Lalaith: Haha, maybe there really is a goddess of Mary Sues that is working against us.
Pansy-Sue: Scary thought.
Lalaith: Just hope she doesn't pay a visit. O.o

Last day for Golden Bubotuber Award nominations!

TITLE: Broken Mirror
PERPETRATOR: Gaia Raven Myles (uhoh)

SUE-O-METER:
(bad)

FULL NAME: Laurel Raegan
SPECIES: Human/Witch
HAIR: 'wavy blonde hair'
EYES: not described
MARKINGS: none
POSESSIONS: none

ORIGIN: An American... she and her sister were sent to Hogwarts for 'political reasons'. Her family was killed by Voldemort. She was Sirius Black's girlfriend, attempted to commit suicide (sue-icide?) when he was sent to Azkaban, failed (dammit!) and has been hiding (in Egypt) ever since until Dumbledore dredged her up and asked her to teach D.A.D.A.
CONNECTIONS TO CANON: Sirius' ex-girlfriend... she's probably destined to re-unite with him, clear his name, and live happily ever after. Lupin's good friend (she sent him a heartfelt suicide note and then never took it back when she failed to kill herself, so he gets to be all shocked that she's still alive), Harry's godmother.
SPECIAL ABILITIES: Telepathic (or, at least, can sense peoples' presence... Dumbledor alludes to her family having Mysterious Special Powers). Knows curses worse than the Unforgiveables. Finds deep meaning in the lyrics of Spice Girls songs (hey, not just anybody can do that).

NOTES: This started off really good. I was going to give it an 'okay' until it started quoting lyrics by the Spice Girls... and it got steadily more annoying from there. If this fic were to win a Golden Bubotuber Award, it would be for 'Most Flashbacks'.

SAMPLE:

Laurel arrived at King's Cross Station with her trunk by ten-thirty, giving her half an hour to spare. To her surprise she found much as she remembered, with only a few vendors and their wares here and there having changed.

After browsing for ten or fifteen minutes, Laurel made her way cautiously over to the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten. Studying the solid-seeming brick wall before her, she sincerely hoped that the doorway to Platform 9¾ was the same as it had been some twenty-odd years ago. Otherwise, Laurel would be making a complete and total fool of herself momentarily.

Taking a deep healing breath, Laurel leaned against the barrier and found herself sliding through time, space, and reality to emerge in the wizarding world.

All around her parents fussed over their children, older students waited eagerly and tried to appear nonchalant, first years were terrified, and younger siblings cried. Just like always; no surprises yet.

Moving forward through the huge crowd at this moment was an almost futile effort, so Laurel pulled her trunk to the side and sat to rest.

She felt the mind flutter of an oncoming memory again and rather than fight it, Laurel let it come.

~~~
Laurel and James had just emerged onto the Platform, ready to begin their sixth year. The Ministry had called Mr. Potter into work early so they had all bade farewell outside King's Cross Station.

"Laurel! Prongs!" called someone over the din.

They searched for the source of the voice and saw Sirius, Remus, Lily, Peter, and a few other friends standing by the wall near the head of the train, waving madly at them.

Laurel and James fought their way over to the group - no easy task - and warm greetings were exchanged all around. She was just about to meet Sirius' gaze when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

She turned to see Sirius' sister Polaris, a Ravenclaw fifth year, standing there looking a trifle nervous. "Er…excuse me. Professor Raegan?"

Why had Polly just called her "Professor"? She had no reason to; she couldn't have known. Unless…
~~~

Laurel blinked and saw not Polaris Black, but an anxious-seeming girl with bushy brown hair and large hazel eyes looking at her. "Yes?" she replied cautiously.

The girl breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, good. For a moment, I thought I had the wrong person. I'm Hermione Granger, a Gryffindor prefect. Professor Dumbledore asked me to make sure you made it on the train okay."

Laurel smiled weakly. "Yes, that does sound like him. Well, Hermione, I think my only problem today will be getting my things to the train and finding a free compartment in which to store them. If it is anywhere as crowded as it was when I came here, that should be quite an accomplishment."

Hermione seemed to like the idea of a challenge. She grabbed one end of Laurel's trunk and led the way, pulling rank as a prefect to weave a path through the milling students. On the way she began asking questions. "You'll forgive me for being nosy, Professor, but how come you attended Hogwarts if you're an American? Did I judge the accent correctly? Aren't there wizarding schools over there?"

Laurel was impressed by the girl's perceptiveness - her accent had almost been lost by now, melded with traces of so many others. "Yes, I am American. Born in the South, though I haven't been back to the States since I was younger than you are now. There are wizarding schools in the U.S., but my sister and I were sent to Hogwarts for political reasons. My father was an old friend of Albus', so he offered us a safe haven. Though in the end I think it was more harm than help."

"Oh, really? That sounds fascinating!" Indeed, Hermione sounded as if she would very much like to hear more, but Laurel was in no mood to divulge more of her past. Luckily, she was spared an awkward silence when they reached the train.

After helping Laurel find an empty compartment near the back of the train Hermione ran off, presumably to find her own friends. Laurel sat down by a window and pulled out a wizarding copy of Shakespeare's MacBeth she had found in Flourish and Blott's. A good Muggle story like this ought to put her mind off the memories.

Somewhere in the middle of Act I, the Hogwarts Express pulled away from the station. Laurel had just begun Act II when she felt the brush of a familiar-seeming mind nearby. But then, that couldn't be…wouldn't Dumbledore have told her?

Shaking the brief sensation off, Laurel did not look up when the door to her compartment opened and the familiar presence entered, taking the seat across from her. She was successfully and forcibly immersing herself in her book when he spoke.

"I was told I would find the other new professor in here so I thought I would come introduce myself." Ice ran through Laurel's veins as she recognized beyond doubt the warm tenor voice. "I am-"

"Remus Lupin," she finished, looking up for the first time.

He seemed slightly taken aback, but it was obvious that he didn't recognize her right off. "Why, yes…how- Oh my God, Laurel? Laurel Raegan?"

Laurel nodded, unwilling to deny her identity to an old friend. She wasn't sure if she'd ever seen Remus caught off guard like this ever before, and it was slightly disconcerting. "B-but…I thought you…that you…" he sputtered.

Laurel felt her cheeks start to flush and she looked away, mortally embarrassed. "I…er…I almost did. But I couldn't and I've been hiding away for the past ten years. Until Dumbledore came and connived me out of my early retirement, that is. I'm sorry I never told you, Remus. I thought it was for the better…"

Remus had his face buried in his hands. "Why, Laurel? Why couldn't you tell me?"

Laurel sighed, feeling a major guilt trip forming. "Cowardice, I suppose. The same reason I'm still here. I mean, it just wouldn't have looked good to send you that letter and then show up saying, 'Hi! I was too weak to kill myself, so if you wouldn't mind discarding that note…?'"

At that response Remus took her hands in his, causing her to drop her book, which protested vehemently. "No, Laurel. That's not true and you know it."

Though she felt deeply ashamed, Laurel faced Remus and was immediately struck by now little he had apparently aged over the past ten years. The only signs of the passage of time were a slightly worn face and grey flecks in his light brown hair. His green-and-gold-flecked eyes still shone with the same sad intensity. She briefly wondered if it might have something to do with his lycanthropy, staring blankly at the paneling just above his head.

Taking a deep breath, Remus continued. "Sirius was devastated when I showed him your letter, Laurel. He's been blaming himself for everything…"

Suddenly furious, Laurel jerked her hands away and stood with her back to Remus. "As well he should! Dear God, Remus! How could you talk to the man after what he did?! Did you visit him in that hellhole or have you…have you been sheltering him?"

Remus looked confused for a moment, then laughed sadly. "I would have thought Dumbledore might have told you, but I see he didn't."

"Tell me what?"

"That he's innocent."

Laurel spun to look Remus directly in the eyes, a half-crazed expression on her face. "Would you mind running that by me again, Remus? I could have sworn I heard you say that he's innocent."

Remus put his hands on her shoulders to brace her. "You did. Sirius is innocent, Laurel. It's true."

Laurel bit her lip, wondering if perhaps Sirius had placed Remus under some kind of spell. Surely he couldn't be… "I'd love to believe that, Remus, but how can that be? He killed Peter…so many people saw it."

"They didn't see what they thought they saw. Sirius was framed."

Even though it belied all logic, Laurel felt inclined to believe her old friend, who up until now had been the logical one. "B-but then…by who?"

Remus' face darkened malevolently. "By Peter Pettigrew. He faked his own death and spent most of the past fourteen years in his Animagus form. I saw him just over a year ago and he confessed…but escaped before he could be turned over to the Ministry. That's why Sirius is still wanted."

Laurel started incredulously. "What about James and Lily? Wasn't Sirius was their Secret-Keeper?"

Shaking his head, Remus replied, "No. At the last minute they switched to Peter, using Sirius as a ruse. They didn't tell you for your own protection. If you knew nothing, then the Death Eaters would have no use for you and they certainly didn't need another reason to come after you. They…didn't tell me…because Sirius suspected that I was…the spy." He sighed, troubled by the thought.

Laurel was absolutely stunned. All the truths of the past fourteen years had been unceremoniously dumped into the trash compactor in just a few minutes' conversation. She had no clue how to respond to this. "So…Peter betrayed James and Lily…he was the spy…he killed those people…he…he convicted Sirius…innocently…!"

"Yes! But we can't prove Sirius' innocence until we find Peter! The only people who could testify that they saw him are a convict, three teenagers with a history of breaking rules, and…a werewolf. Right now only a handful of people are aware of this; people Dumbledore knows he can trust. You'll probably be questioned by Ministry officials about Sirius and his whereabouts, but you mustn't tell them anything," explained Remus passionately.

Laurel nodded blankly as a horrible thought hit her. She started to crumple to the seat but Remus grabbed her, setting her down gently. "But this means…all these years…all this time…he's been in Azkaban…that awful hellhole…innocent…and I've thought he betrayed them. Betrayed us. I should have known! If only…"

"No," said Remus sternly, sounding more like a guardian than a friend. "You couldn't have known. There was no way, so don't go assigning blame where it has no right to be. Sirius has the help and trust of Dumbledore and he will continue to evade capture until proper justice can be served. But we mustn't talk about this too openly, as most don't know the truth."

Laurel nodded and Remus cleared his throat, continuing, "Well, certainly there must be other things more pleasant to discuss. Why don't you tell me all that has happened to you during your missing years?"

rating - bad, am - psychic/mutant (non-canon), e - american

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