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The Adventures of Milburga Wirth, VOL I: Deflowering Mister Lupin by Heartplague
Chapter 1 : Deflowering Mister Lupin
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 11

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My life is no fairytale, nor is it an adventurous journey in which I’ll save the world from all evil. The only thing I’ve ever saved is the spider that had escaped the vicious autumn rain by sneaking into the Gryffindor 6th year girls’ dormitory, only to be deafened by Lily Evans who apparently does not like spiders. Being the heroic Gryffindor that I am (Please pay attention to my over used sarcasm, it will return) I rescued the poor animal by carrying it down to the common room, where it has most likely been trampled to death by my fellow students. My act was done with consideration, mind you. Did I just get sidetracked?
I’ll not be able to narrate about my various love affairs with some of greatest wizards of my time, because there haven’t been any and I highly doubt there ever will be. I’ll probably either end up as an old cat woman by the time I’m 40 or marry a regular guy with an office job and live the suburban life. The first option seem most likely as my love life until now has been as exciting as a lecture with professor Binns, which is actually where this tale will begin.

I blame my best friend Ida Grahn for all of my misfortunes at Hogwarts, from making a complete fool of myself at the sorting to arriving 15 minutes late for my Potion exam last year. All of my 3 detentions have been because of her and her blabbermouth, which don’t seem to have an off button.
Ida would be your ordinary outcast, she says what comes to mind without giving it much thought and she never dresses up for others. Ellis Knight learn the latter first hand last year when he asked her out and wore a suit to impress her, Ida showed up in paint strained jeans and loose t-shirt. Needless to say, their relationship was short-lived.

In many ways, I’m the opposite of Ida, who is loud and opinionated while I’m shy and passive when it comes to arguments. I’m your classic nerd; I wear glasses and continuously quote passages from my favourite books, I’m not even important enough to have a social rank. To make all matters worse, my parents stuck me with the most horrible name known to man – Milburga. When most people hear my name they expect an 80 year old woman with a cane who spends more time recalling the past than the present. I suspect my parents were high on mushrooms when they choose the name, because even if I had been tall, blonde and beautiful, my social status would have depended on my name. I am a lost case. Ida frequently whines about how she is constantly being compared to sweet natured blonde Swedes because of her name. Her family originates from Sweden so the comparison is not without reason, though I would never refer to her as sweet natured or blonde, but if you could choose between Ida and Milburga, which name would you choose. Yeah, I thought so.

Now that I have introduced the courageous main characters, I should begin the actual tale. It all took place in January 1976 on a normal Wednesday afternoon. Ida had been nagging me all day about the supposed dreamy gaze I sent to a certain mister Lupin, this was ofcourse her imagination as I wasn’t looking at anyone in particularly and the dreamy look was just an outcome of a sleepless night where I had been rewriting my transfiguration assignment after she spilled pumpkin juice all over the first one. This theory didn’t go well with Ida, who accused me of lying to cover up my supposed infatuation with Remus Lupin.

“You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of; he’s a rather nice chap,” She whispered while Professor Binns was busy writing notes on the blackboard. I had already seen my defeat 5 minutes earlier and was now listening to Ida’s attempts to make me confess, while I tried to concentrate on the lecture. “You know, he is rumoured to be the ones behind all of the pranks he and his friends pull off. So he’s brain and cuteness,”

I am sure I have heard somewhere that you are never to call a guy cute as his masculinity will be wounded, but either Ida haven’t heard about that or she just doesn’t care.

“Miss Grahn, do you mind turning your attention away from Miss Wirth and to the blackboard,” Ida did as professor Binns told her to, but I knew she was waiting for the next opportunity to continue the negotiation. The opportunity never came as the professor kept checking if her attention had shifted so in the end Ida stuck to paper notes.

I’m not giving up. I know your secret.

I snickered at the note and send a short reply, shut up. Ida gave out a sigh and tried to catch me in the act, which she finally did. I had glanced around the classroom when professor Binns’ voice finally got to me and for a millisecond my eyes landed on Lupin, who was still taking notes. How does one stay awake and active to absorb the mumbling sentences coming out of professor Binns’ mouth and actually put them onto paper?

Another paper landed on my half finished notes, and this note would determine my destiny, although I didn’t know that.

Gotcha! You want to deflower Remus Lupin, don’t you?

“MISS GRAHN AND MISS WIRTH! Do you care to enlighten the rest of the class what could possible be more interesting than my lesson,” Professor Binns had stepped away from his desk and was walking towards our table. Beside me, Ida seemed to have trouble keeping from laughing at the comment the professor had made.

“Don’t ma…ow,” I had kicked her under the table as I knew what her comeback would sound like and how much trouble it would give us.

“I didn’t quite catch that one, Miss Grahn,” Professor Binns was getting dangerously close to our table and the coward in me started fearing for the outcome if he made me read the note aloud. I had never been caught in the act of passing notes to anyone, but it would probably have been considered a scandal if Ida hadn’t gotten me into all troubles known to man, plus the made up troubles. When professor Binns had reached our desk and stood hovering over it with an authority I had thought only professor McGonagall possessed, I did the only thing which came to mind as his eyes slowly shifted to the crumpled paper, which lay unfolded in front of me, threatening to destroy what little life I had. I picked up the paper and roll it into a ball, before cramming it into my mouth with a single movement.

“What on earth are you doing, Milburga?” The teacher asked warily, forgetting all rules about misses, misters and sirs. I started chewing the paper, hoping it would be easier to swallow and had to stop myself from vomiting by putting my hand against my mouth.

“Have you gone mad?” I could hear Ida ask from beside me, she held her arms across her stomach trying to refrain from laughing. I finally swallowed the note and winced as I felt it slide down my throat. The whole class had turned their attention towards me, even those who had been sleeping only minutes before, it seemed my little scene had resulting in a record high number of students awake in a history lesson, though I wasn’t particularly proud.

“Miss Wirth, I hope you will notify us all, why such a commotion was necessary,” I felt nervous as everyone waited eagerly for my reply, even Ida who seemed to be the only one not in shock, almost as if she expected such behaviour from me. I couldn’t blame anyone for being the slightest bit surprised, because I normally only drew attention to myself when Ida got into trouble, or got me into trouble, which come to think about it was the case.

“I …ehm,” Ida was always the one coming up with the excuses, but she was deliberately looking anywhere but at me. “I was hungry,”

The silence which had haunted the room since Professor Binns had stopped the lecture was gone the second the words left my mouth and was replaced by an ear-splitting laughter. Ida took first prize in enjoying my humiliation as she was the only one who had fallen from her chair and was literally rolling on the floor laughing. Professor Binns looked at me disbelieving and the innocent smile I flashed him didn’t seem to affect his already ruined mood. Well, he never really were happy but he never looked as furious at he did when silencing the class and leaning over the table threatening.

“I must say I never expected such behaviour from you, Miss Wirth. I must ask you to leave the classroom at once, and you’ll be serving detention with Filch on Friday. And finally 10 points will be taken from Gryffindor. Let that be a lesson,”

I let out a loud sigh as I gathered my things, sent Ida a murderous glare and splinted out the classroom, dramatically slamming the door.

A loud ‘enter’ roared the hallway as I knocked on the caretaker’s office door the following Friday. I realized once I opened the door that I wouldn’t be doing the detention alone, which I had been hoping – There was nothing more awkward than trying to strike up a conversation during detention. I had been to the dark office during one previous detentions and I felt just as crept out then as I did now, which the dirty walls and spider-webs in every corner, not to mention the red strain on the floor which I during my first visit had identified as human blood, or atleast blood.

“Evening Miss Wirth. Finally decided to join us, ay,” Filch grumbled and pointed towards one of the chairs, which to my luck was placed right on top of the mysterious blood strain. I sat down and pulled my feet up, trying to stay out of any contact with the strain.

“I’ll need you three to sort out these old files in order of date, newest first,” The caretaker pointed towards 6 rather large boxes standing against the wall looking quite dusty. “Please leave your wands on the table and come retreat them when you have finished. The charms classroom has been reserved for you to work in, so please get to work,”

I groaned silently as I pulled out my wand and placed it on the table, before grabbing two of boxes. The charms classroom was located 2 floors over the office and as I arrived as the finale student I was completely out of breath and flung myself to the first chair I found, gasping for air.

“How can she find that difficult?” A male voice spoke and for the first time that evening I took a look at my fellow detainees. James Potter and Sirius Black had already gotten comfortable on each a desk and were lying on their backs, paying no attention to the boxes which needed to be sorted.

“I happen to be … girl, and … not … Quidditch player,” I managed to get out, still clinging to the chair. I tried to reach for a box but I had only barely placed them inside the room and when I realized I would have to get up to reach them, I gave up and let my head fall down on the table.

“You don’t say,” Potter said sarcastic. I wondered when they would start working or if they were waiting for me to do it all alone. When none of them moved during the next quarter, I stood up and fetched a box.

“You got to be pulling my leg,” I mumbled as I scanned the dates, two heads popped up from each table and looked at me curiously. I held up a file “They are from 18th century,”

“Yeah, we already sorted the earlier once,” Black proudly announced and sat upright, though not moving. I wondered how many detention the two boys had had during their school years, I knew they were famous for causing riots and getting trouble, but I had never actually considered how much trouble.

“But I can’t read this,” I stated and narrowed my eyes trying to make out the text, a figure appeared behind me.

“It says Thomas Terribottom served a detention for making Alaric Walderburg’s face scrimp. Date was the 3rd November 1736,” Black read as he leaned over my shoulder. “We have had a lot of practise interpreting these old files,” He said as a matter of fact when I raised my eyebrow at him. I picked up another piece and immediately handed it to him as I yet again had to give up making out any of the words.

“How about I read the papers and then you sort them,” Black suggested and popped down on the floor opposite me.

“Am I forgotten?” Potter asked from the table, he slowly but determinedly made his way towards us and sat down next to Black, already looking bored.

“You can be box fetcher and place the files back into the boxes when I have sorted them,” Ofcourse he complained about the boring work I had made him do even before he started and instead began reading the papers aloud, competing against Black about who could do it faster, which had me fussing over the increasing speed that made it impossible to do the sorting proper.

We finished the first 5 boxes in less than 2 hours when Potter finally suggested a break, which I happily accepted as my fingers were turning numb. I leaned back against the boxes which were placed behind me and closed my eyes.

“So, Wirth,” Potter started casually as if we regularly spoke to each other. I opened one eye to look at him and quickly closed it when I noticed his smirk. “What exactly did you do to deserve this cruel punishment?”

I knew they had heard about the episode during History because I was sure Remus had told them, or they had overheard it from other students. Ida had made it her mission to make sure the tale didn’t go untold and made sure to be overheard every time we discussed it, she even wrote in on the wall in the girls’ bathroom. I frowned and opened my eyes unwillingly to glare at him.

“Oh yes, please tell us,” I needed more eyes if I were to glare at both the boys and instead shifted my glare between them.

“I ate paper,” I had sounded much better in my head. No, wait, it hadn’t. It sounded as ridiculous as it was, and I feared that I would forever be known as paper eating girl. I preferred the old title as Ida’s weird friend.

“Why would you do that,” Black sniggered.

“To avoid humiliation,” I exclaimed truthfully. To my surprise, both boys seemed to buy it, even though Potter had to support himself from laughing at my obvious stupidity. I didn’t blame him, what idiot eats paper to avoid making a fool out of themselves, only me. “The idea seemed perfect at the time,”

“Why eat the paper?” I knew the question would come up at some point, and I also knew I should have prepared an answer because as I demonstrated earlier, I don’t work well under pressure. I couldn’t exactly tell them the truth; imagine their faces if I told them I wanted to deflower their defenceless friend. Not that I wanted to deflower him, but according to the note I would.

“It was a dare,” Anyone who knows me would know I never dare, I’m not a gambler and I don’t live on the edge. I like stability, firm ground underneath me and knowing what will happen in the future. I’m no good at divination and quit the subject after I failed to see anything in Ida’s teacup, not even a cloud which most was able to see. Black and Potter however, didn’t know me well enough to realize all that and they both seemed content with my answer.

When I started to feel my fingers again, we continued on the sorting, this time without Potter and Black competing, which I found was a great relief. 20 minutes later Black read out the final note and I was able to place it with the rest of September 1765.

“This has got to be the worst detention I have ever had, I normally just write lines,” I grumbled as we exited Filch’s office with our wands. My back was arching, I felt like I hadn’t slept for days and was hoping Ida wasn’t still up so she could ruin my chances for a bit of sleep. She had sleeping problems and a short attention span so if she couldn’t sleep it meant I had to stay up as well, awake until she fell asleep.

“I’m slightly hurt,” Potter said and mocked a tear falling down his face. “I thought our company would be appreciated, but oh no,”

“Well I’m sure that if I were in detention alone I wouldn’t have been in physical pain right now,” I said and rub my shoulder.

“Weakling,” I heard someone mumble but I had no idea if it had been Potter or Black, so choose to ignore them both and quickened my steps.

The Common Room was only lid up by a few candles and the fireplace, which meant I had underestimated the time. I bid a quick goodnight to the two boys and headed for the girls’ stairway. Halfway up the stairs, Peter Pettigrew’s high-pitched voice reached my ears and when great curiosity I stopped to listen to watch he was saying.

“Rumour has it; the paper eating girl wants to deflower Remus,”

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