Facing the Unexpected

And after a long, long break - which involved a wedding, a honeymoon, and the birth of a baby - we're back!

Timothy wrote and said he won't be able to make it to Hogsmeade on Halloween day. He wrote that he is very sorry he couldn't find the time to drop by, and assured her they would see each other soon, perhaps next weekend. Celena, disappointed, felt a bit annoyed for a fraction of a second – they have settled this weekend such a long time in advance, what work could possibly be so urgent? Then she realized she had better just go and have a good time with the other teachers. She folded Timothy's note and put on a long, thick cloak against the chilly wind outside.

So in a couple of hours, she found herself sitting in The Three Broomsticks, having a drink with Professors Sprout and Flitwick, and the Headmistress, Professor McGonagall. Hagrid decided to stay in the castle to finish putting together the decorations for the night's feast.
Professor Sprout ordered Madam Rosmerta's famous oak-matured mead; Professor Flitwick was smacking his lips as he sipped his sherry, and Professor McGonagall was enjoying a Gillywater. Celena wasn't in the mood for drinking anything too strong, so she asked for a large, steaming mug of hot Butterbeer. The bar was full of laughing, talking students and some of the other teachers. She noticed Professor Vector and Professor Sinistra talking to Madam Rosmerta at the bar. Professor Snape and Professor Trelawney, however, were nowhere to be seen.

- I must say you are doing very well, Celena, - said Professor McGonagall. – The students all like your classes, and I've never seen the N.E.W.T class so packed! I always thought it's a shame so few students remained after the O.W.L. In previous years, we had students of all houses doing their N.E.W.T level together – it's the first time in many years we actually have enough students to keep dividing them in half!
- Perhaps now they expect to hear instructions on how to make the Philosopher's Stone! - Professor Sprout winked.
- You know I don't have the faintest idea on how to do that, Pomona, - Celena smiled. – Grandpa Nicholas never taught anyone.
At this point, their conversation was interrupted. Professor McGonagall, who was sitting with her face to the door, got up to greet a man who just stepped over the threshold, shaking the hood of his shabby traveling cloak off his face. He had a kind, rather tired face, and much more grey in his brown hair than would be expected for a man of his age.
- Uncle Remus! – Celena exclaimed, getting up to greet him. It was such a pleasant surprise to her, on a day that started in such a gloomy manner. Remus Lupin approached the table and was shaking hands with everyone. Celena noticed that Professor McGonagall, unlike Professors Sprout and Flitwick, didn't seem surprised to see him. He hugged Celena, drew a chair for himself and ordered some mead.
- Dora says hello, - he said, drinking deeply. – How are things up at the castle, Minerva?
- Good, - she replied cautiously, - but you are still most welcome to stay for the feast, Remus.
- I will, thank you, Minerva, - he nodded.

Stay for the feast, when Dora and little Teddy are waiting for him at home? Celena fought the urge to raise an eyebrow. She saw Professors Sprout and Flitwick found it strange too. But then, for the following half hour, she couldn't detect anything out of the ordinary in what her uncle said – they just talked about family matters, Celena's classes, Teddy's funny first words, the renovations at Celena's parents' shop, the latest publications in "The Daily Prophet", and no matter how hard Celena tried, she failed to notice a trace of anything unusual.

After they paid for their drinks, Celena and her uncle walked out of the pub alone. Celena thought it would be wiser not to interrogate Remus right away, so to weaken his resistance, she dragged him along to Gladrag's Wizardwear, and together the chose a nice new winter cloak for him, one she assured him Dora would approve of. Celena bought a new cloak for herself as well, with a matching hat, and only when she was contemplating a pair of gloves, she had to ask:
- Why are you here, Uncle?
- Oh, never mind that. I have business in Hogwarts, - he replied vaguely, trying to brush her off.
- Why are you hanging around in Hogsmeade, then? – Celena pressed on.
Lupin paused for a while, looking very uncomfortable, let out a sigh, and then said:
- Oh, alright. I need to speak with Goliath. Hagrid told me you've met him.
- Yes, I have, - she nodded. It was obvious now why Lupin had to linger until it was dark, so that Goliath and the rest of his clan would wake from their daily hibernation in stone. – Do you have an idea who attacked them in Scotland? – She added in a whisper.
- I couldn't tell you more even if I knew something, - he said flatly.
- Oh, I'm sure you have an idea, - Celena continued badgering him. – Otherwise, why bother coming? I'd love to know what it has got to do with the Ord-
- Shh! – hissed Lupin. – Not here! It's packed with people! And besides, - he continued in a very different voice, suddenly looking not at Celena, but contemplating the neatly packaged new cloak in his hands, - I decided to come early and stop in Hogsmeade because I knew you'd probably be here, and I wanted to talk to you about something else.
- Something else? – Celena repeated, puzzled. – Something you couldn't discuss in front of the other teachers? What is it?
- You didn't have a look at The Daily Prophet, today, did you? – He asked. His expression was very strained as he handed her a copy of the most popular wizard newspaper.

Celena took it, not understanding. The front page was covered with notices of changes in the Ministry; congratulations to the new Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic; announcements of recent broomstick safety regulations; and a large commercial dedicated to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.
- I see nothing special.
- It's right at the back. – Lupin said grimly.
Confused, Celena opened the very last page of the "Prophet". Normally she never got as far as that while reading her morning newspaper. It was the social column, reporting weddings, births, funerals and other important milestones in the more or less important and famous wizard families.
- So, - she said, - Celestina Warbeck is getting divorced for the third time, that's nothing unexpect-

And then she stopped breathing, as if all air had been knocked out of her. She read and re-read once, twice, ten times, refusing to believe her eyes, trying to blink away the hot, angry tears that suddenly blurred her vision, unable to swallow because of a painful constriction that obstructed her throat.
At the very bottom of the column was a small notice, just a few lines telling about the recent engagement of the promising young wizard Timothy Whitechapple and the gorgeous Alexa Douglas, daughter of the richest cauldron-maker of Northern Ireland. There was only a small, smudged picture of Alexa, but it was enough to show that she had curly, flaming red hair and smiled as though she wanted to leave no doubt that each one of her teeth is perfect. Celena furiously wiped her tears away, feeling sick to her stomach.

- Dora figured you probably don't read the social column, - Lupin said darkly, avoiding her red and puffy eyes, - and she thought you should see it yourself, as soon as possible, before you hear someone whispering behind your back.
- I don't get it, - Celena said quietly. – I just don't get it… I understand he might have wanted a marriage to better advance his career, but then - all that time, all that effort, begging me to consent to marry him… why? What's the point?
- I'm sorry, - Lupin said gently. Celena opened her mouth to say something else, but the words were simply lost on their way out. Forgetting all about the gloves, she stormed out of the shop, Remus at her heels, laden with packages.

Lupin stayed for the feast. Celena was sitting between her uncle and Hagrid, which was in itself some comfort, because none of them was interested in gossip, and she was still in a state of mixed disbelief, anger and confusion.
- I don't believe it, - she said in a low whisper, - I mean, he did write less in the last weeks, and he didn't come to see me lately, but still, I didn't expect something like that. Behind my back! Without saying a word! You'd think I had tried to hunt him down, but no – he actually proposed three times before I accepted. Maybe he just likes being engaged!
But a small, a very small and nasty voice inside her head told her she should have seen it coming. Timothy was a man who liked living an easy, smooth, rich life, and his new fiancée seemed just the woman who could provide that – tenfold the comfort and luxury his and Celena's jobs and her share in "Costello Concoctions" could ever bring. Now that she thought back on it, in the past weeks Timothy was clearly avoiding her, being cold and distant. How come she didn't notice it before?