The seventh year Gryffindor girls' dormitory looked like it has been robbed. Clothes were strewn over the beds and chairs, and whichever surface didn't have any kind of fabric was covered with piles of books. Plates and spoons were scattered here and there, and a half eaten sandwich lay abandoned on the table by Dorcas's bed.

The three girls were sprawled on the floor surrounded by books and rolls of parchment. Part of the floor was stained a deep black – someone must have spilled ink at one point, though Dorcas couldn't really remember it happening. She was leaning against Maeve's bed, eyes closed and sporting a nasty headache. Beside her stood an empty mug which was filled with firewhisky just half an hour ago.

Maeve had, once again, paid James Potter and his gang to smuggle some firewhisky for them from Hogsmeade. They were planning to loosen their heads a little and have some fun. After all, as Silver had said, they wouldn't be returning to this place after they leave.

Dorcas groaned as she pulled her quill and inkpot towards her. Soaking the tip of the quill with much more ink than necessary, she began to doodle on the floor. The sound of the tip scratching over the stone floor caused her friends to look at her in irritation. "Knock it off, Dorcas," Silver scolded, tossing one of her essays which hit her right on the side of her head.

"Hey, don't disrespect your essay," Maeve said in a garbled voice and smacked Silver. "Pass that to me, Dork."

"Disrespect my essay?" Silver exclaimed in shock. "That essay should be grateful that I even bothered to write it at all."

"Easy for you to say." Maeve crawled over and took the essay herself when Dorcas didn't respond in any way to her. She rolled up the parchment and cradled it lovingly in her arms. "You've already got a job. The NEWTs are just a formality for you."

"Not true. I can still lose the job if I fail Ancient Runes."

"Which you won't, even if you don't prepare at all," Dorcas piped in, speaking for the first time. She was still scratching away on the floor and didn't look up at them as she spoke.

"You too, Dorcas," Maeve continued, speaking in a slow, miserable voice. "You have a job too. You both are going to get busy with your adult lives as soon as you leave Hogwarts and I'm going to continue living with my parents, eating cookies and writing letters to the both of you even though you will never respond."

"Of course we will," said Silver half-heartedly. The scenario wasn't new to them. Maeve had been drunk a few times before, and each time she was, she wallowed about how lonely she was and how her friends would leave her. She usually didn't remember much of it after sobering up.

Maeve leaned over and took the half full bottle of firewhisky. Instead of pouring herself a small amount, she began to drink it straight from the bottle. Silver gave a loud cry and snatched it from her, spilling some of the drink over the books that lay on the floor. "No more drinking, Maeve," she said authoritatively. "You don't want to have a hangover now, trust me."

She corked the bottle and held it out for Dorcas. "Hide it somewhere, will you?"

But Dorcas didn't take it, nor give any indication that she has heard her. She continued doodling on the floor. The headache wasn't getting better, but it has stopped worsening, which was a consolation.

She heard Silver let out a sigh. "A little alcohol, and now I have to be the parent," she muttered to herself as she crossed over the books and clothes to come and sit beside her. "What's going on, Dork?"

"My life has been ruined," she answered monotonously. "What else."

Silver wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. Dorcas didn't really feel like talking, but she couldn't deny that the physical contact didn't feel good. "Don't be so dramatic. It's not that bad. Who cares what those people think about you? What matters is that you are going to graduate in a few weeks, and then you will be out in the world all on your own, with no one to hold you back."

Dorcas nodded in agreement. "You are right. I'll be all on my own. You have Benjy, Maeve will find someone soon. And I'll be forever alone."

Silver forced her to turn towards her. "Okay, talk to me. What's bothering you? Tell me everything."

She didn't meet her eyes as she spoke. "When I was small, I used to think about being a mother. I loved looking after Lucas when I went to hang out at my father's house, and I have always wanted to have children of my own. But that's never going to happen, is it?"

Silver didn't speak for a minute. She reached a hand out and began to ay with her hair which has fallen over her shoulders. Then she said, "Let me do your hair."

Dorcas was surprised at the sudden offer, but she agreed. Silver sat down on the bed behind her and began to brush her hair slowly and gently. It felt good. Dorcas relaxed and closed her eyes. Everything she had imprisoned in her mind began to slowly release themselves.

"I'm never going to have a girlfriend," said. "I used to think that Juliet would date me one day, but god, I was stupid. Even if I find someone else like me, we can never be together."

"And why is that?"

"Well, you've seen how everyone reacted when they found out about me." Dorcas paused. She stared down at her hands, feeling tears forming in her eyes. "Do you think they're ever going to let me be happy?"

Silver scoffed behind her. "Who are they to let you be anything? It's your life, Dorcas. They have no say in it. And don't you ever say you'll be forever alone. You have us. Even if you don't get into a relationship, you will still have us. Who needs a girlfriend when you have best friends?"

"Only someone who's not single will say that," said Dorcas with a laugh, though she was feeling a little better. Her headache was fading away slowly.

They looked at Maeve, who has been oddly silent all along, and realised that she has fallen asleep, drooling over her books. They burst into laughter.

"What in Merlin's beard is going on?"

It was Heidi. She has just come into the room, eyeing the mess that it was with horror in her eyes. She stared at them like they have vandalised their common room. Which they really have.

"We'll clean up soon," said Silver. "Once we get Maeve up and running."

Heidi stepped over the scattered piles of clothes to reach her bed. "Oh, and Cillian is outside. He wants to talk to you, Dorcas."

Dorcas froze, looking up at her in shock. Silver scowled. "He's got some nerve. After what we did to him – which was a just little talk, by the way, nothing else. I'll go and tell him you don't want to talk to him."

But Dorcas stood up. "There's no need," she said. "I'll go."

Silver stared at her for a moment. Dorcas knew she wanted to argue and stop her from going, but in the end she nodded her head. "At least let me finish your hair first. Keep him waiting a little while longer."

Dorcas laughed and agreed.

When her hair was neatly brushed and tied into a braid, Dorcas wrapped her Gryffindor robes around herself and went out into the common room. She climbed through the portrait hole and opened the door to find Cillian sitting against the wall. He leapt to his feet when he saw her.

"Dorcas," he said in a low voice. "Hi."

"Skip the formality. I'm tipsy, so make it quick."

Cillian stared at her for a moment. "Dorcas, I am really sorry for everything. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

She scoffed. "So when you spread my secret to the whole castle, you didn't mean for everyone to be disgusted of me. You did it all in good fun."

He made a move forward like he wanted to hold her but he stopped himself. Cillian looked much different than she remembered. He didn't seem as confident as he always was. He moved his hands around constantly and shifted his weight from one foot to another. His hair fell over his forehead which was weaved into a sorrowful frown. He looked like he really felt guilty for his actions, but Dorcas has learned her lessons. She wasn't going to forgive him just because he was nice and kind.

"Dorcas," he said, heaving a deep breath. "I did not tell the whole castle. But –"

"But you told someone."

"Yes. I did," he admitted. "I told my friend. We were talking, and I just, I told him. I didn't think he would start spreading it around. I honestly thought he was accepting. We've known each other for years, but I was wrong about him. I'm sorry."

Dorcas looked at him like he has lost his mind. Without answering him, she turned to leave and saw the Fat Lady in the portrait staring at them with a glass of drink in her hand. When she saw her staring, she quickly looked away.

"Dorcas, please," Cillian pleaded. "I didn't think he'd tell anyone."

She whipped around to look at him. "And I didn't think you would tell anyone, but here we are." She huffed frustratedly and began to pace back and forth. "I don't care if your friend is accepting or not. Only I have the right to come out to people, whenever and however I wish."

Dorcas suddenly felt tears rolling down her cheeks. She hadn't realised that she had started crying. What hurt her more than the entire castle shunning her for her identity was the fact that it was Cillian who had caused it. Cillian, who she trusted, who she had thought of as her friend. She didn't bother wiping away her tears.

"I confided in you because I thought I could trust you," she said in a low and surprisingly steady voice. "Because I thought you were my friend. But you completely violated my trust."

Cillian didn't say anything for a long time. He stood there, looking miserable. The sound of the Fat Lady sipping on her drink could be heard coming from close behind her.

"Please forgive me," he whispered.

"If you were me," she asked softly, "would you forgive yourself?"

His silence was answer enough.