LUCY:

Once I was human again and I stopped screaming, I found myself incapacitated by pain. I couldn't help but whimper as I writhed around. Nobody would hear me. I was free to make as much noise as I wanted without having to worry about anything or anyone.

I screwed my eyes shut, letting out a hoarse yell as one of my writhing movements sent pain shooting up my neck. My hand flew up to try to massage away the massive knot, but I cried out again because I had forgotten that it was the hand Umbridge — well, that I at the direction of Umbridge — had shredded open. Unsurprisingly, it was bleeding again, but when I went to cradle it, I felt an unusual tension in my shoulder.

I opened my eyes slowly. On the floor, all around, were ropes. Ropes that had been bitten to strings.

I had never seen anything like that before. The room had never done anything like that before. It was always just cushioned. Nothing more, nothing less.

Then, a vision from the night flashed through my mind. A blur of ropes shooting up from the ground to stop me.

To stop me from what, though?

Another vision. The ropes pinning me to the ground, me whining in protest, struggling as hard as I could.

That must have been how I had injured my shoulder. I pushed myself up with the other arm and looked around. I must have twisted free in an awkward way.

Another vision. Me launching myself at the wall.

That was stupid. Was I trying to hurt myself?

Another vision. Lunging for my wrists — or, well, the part above my paws that corresponded to my human wrists — with teeth bared just before ropes clamped my snout shut so I couldn't bite myself.

Oh.

The realization made me dizzy, so I braced myself with my other arm for only half a second before my shoulder gave way again and I landed on the floor again. A soft whimper escaped me, then I lay still and stared at the ceiling, dazed by the pain running through me like a current.

Monster.

Monster.

Monster.

Monster.

Monster.

"I know!" I shouted to the whisper of the part of my soul that had always known the truth no matter how many times Cedric or Hermione or Fred or George or Harry or anyone tried to tell me otherwise.

I froze. Harry.

I pushed myself up again and looked around at all of the ropes.

If I'm this much of a danger to myself, I'm even more of a danger to him.

I shook my head to dispel the thought, then winced as my head started pounding more intensely in protest. I inhaled through my nose and pushed myself to my feet. I swayed, but the world steadied itself once I braced myself against the wall. I closed my eyes and inhaled again, but even breathing required monumental effort. I reached up — carefully — to drag my hand down my face, but the skin of my nose started stinging, and when I pulled my hand away, there was a stripe of blood across my palm.

Bloody hell. The ropes. I must have resisted so hard I cut my own nose open.

I sighed. I would have to try to get up to the dormitory before anyone else woke up and use some of the dittany-free healing cream I'd brought from home. I had already told Madam Pomfrey I didn't need a wideye potion since I was planning on sleeping all day Sunday, so she wouldn't be expecting me in the Hospital Wing — not that I would have wanted to go there, anyway. I didn't want to worry her... I also didn't need yet another reminder of Cedric's absence.

I hugged the wall as I made my way to the door, pressing my sleeve to my nose to try to keep the bleeding to a minimum.

Nothing to it. Just get to the common room, grab the cream, and disappear into the bathroom before you wake Hermione up. Shower, clean it all up, then sleep all day. Nothing to it.

But when I opened the door, my plan went out the window.

"Bloody hell, why are you holding your nose, are you okay?"

I kept my sleeve up hiding my face, scrambling for an explanation as Harry rushed over to me, panic in his eyes.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," I said. "I-I thought you were feeding Tuck and Fang, I didn't think you'd-"

"I've already been down to Hagrid's. I didn't want you to be alone when you came out." His eyes roamed from my face to my hand. "Merlin, did that split open again?"

I nodded, still reeling. I was too exhausted to try to say anything that would make the situation better.

Harry gently reached forward and lowered my sleeve from my nose. He took in a sharp breath, but his voice was calm when he spoke, if a little shaken. "I thought you said nothing would hurt you in there. I thought- I thought it was the safest place for you to be."

Involuntary tears rose to my eyes, but I forced them away just as soon as they appeared. There was no way in heaven or hell or anywhere in between that I would tell Harry about the ropes. I was humiliated enough as it was. So instead, I said, "It's definitely the safest place for me, but it's not always perfect."

He nodded slowly, reluctantly, maybe even a bit disbelievingly. "Right." He reached forward and laid a hand on my forehead. "Merlin, you were right, you're freezing."

"Yeah. It happens."

"Right," he said again, blinking. "Alright, let's head to the Hospital Wing."

I shook my head. "I'm heading to my dormitory."

"I- what? Lucy, you're bleeding."

"I can take care of it," I said quietly. "I brought healing cream from home. It'll take care of my nose in no time."

"What about your hand?"

"It'll be fine." I glanced away from his eyes and started walking, and he followed suit.

"Are you alright otherwise?" he asked after a moment. "Did anything else happen?"

"I'm alright," I lied. "Just tired. Did I miss anything last night?"

"No. I went out to help Ron practice as Keeper for a while. Hermione bugged us both about doing homework, but we could tell her heart wasn't really in it so we talked her into playing Exploding Snap instead. She seemed really worried about you. I'm sure she'll interrogate you about... well, this, once you make it to your dorm."

I nodded. "Probably."

He was right; as soon as I opened the door to the dormitory, Hermione rushed over and wrapped her arms around me, unable to help herself. She had already retrieved the cream from my trunk and dragged me into the bathroom to apply it to my nose. I understood why Harry had reacted the way he had — my nose was rubbed raw.

"How did you do that?" she asked, scanning my face for any other sign of injury.

"I don't know," I muttered. Another lie. "Did you let Harry be the one to get me?"

She nodded. "He was already awake when I went down to the common room. Something about how he was so worried he couldn't sleep-"

"I shouldn't have told him," I whispered. "I shouldn't have told him, Hermione, now I've ruined everything-"

"You didn't let me finish. He also said in no uncertain terms that he's glad he knows now and that he wishes he had figured it out first year like I did."

"Well then, he's a bloody idiot if he's actually glad he knows, considering how worried he seemed to be all week-"

"Lucy, listen to yourself! Don't you see he's only worried because he cares about you?"

"Then maybe he's an idiot for that too, because I'm not worth..."

I hesitated when I saw the look on Hermione's face.

"So that's why you've been shutting everyone out, is it? You think you're not worth the worry?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you do. Or are you telling me it's a mere coincidence that you've talked more to Dolores Umbridge of all people than to me, or Ron, or Ginny, or anyone other than Harry in the week we've been back at school? And even then, I'm only assuming you talk to Harry when the two of you are alone because he doesn't talk to anyone much anymore either. Maybe you've spoken to Umbridge more than him, even."

I glanced away, at a loss for words. When she laid it all out like that...

"Look," she said, more gently, "like it or not, we care about you, Lucy, and we want to help you. But you've got to get out of your head if you want us to stand a fighting chance of actually helping you feel better."

I nodded meekly.

But what would you say if I told you I wasn't sure if I want to get better? I wondered to myself.

Hermione made a small noise in her throat and hugged me again.

"Just please promise not to go somewhere we can't follow."

"Alright," I managed. "I promise."

I stumbled down to the Great Hall the next morning five minutes before class.

"Feeling better? Heard you were sick," Fred commented for the sake of any curious ears around who didn't know my secret as I slid between him and George. George offered me an exaggerated wink, as if I could forget that they both knew I was a werewolf.

"Sick as a dog," I replied, making Harry choke on his pumpkin juice across the table. I was too tired to even smile at his reaction, but I would have liked to — it was funny. Ron slapping him on the back made it all the funnier; it must have been a large swallow.

The day passed in a hazy blur. I fell asleep in History of Magic, but Harry let me sleep and told me I could copy his notes — I noticed even in my tired stupor the effort he had taken in making his handwriting neater than his usual scrawl. I would have ruined my potion the following period if Hermione hadn't grabbed me by the wrist to stop me from dropping the completely wrong type of crushed-up whatever into my cauldron. I fell asleep again in Ancient Runes, and Hermione kicked me to keep me awake, but Professor Babbling dropped a note on my desk saying I looked exhausted and that it was alright to sleep since I was top of the class, so I was more alert in DADA than I would have otherwise been. I skipped dinner, instead heading up to the common room to get a head start on the ever-growing mountain of homework, but before I knew what had happened, Ron was shaking me awake and Hermione was siphoning up the ink I had spilled over my essay when I had (apparently) crash-landed on the bottle and Harry was wiping a smudge of ink from my forehead with his thumb.

I managed to stay awake with the three of them sitting around me and asking me questions from time to time, but exhaustion pulled down on every part of my body. I was just about to succumb to sleep when Hermione closed her book with a snap and looked over at Ron and Harry.

"Nearly done?"

"No," Ron muttered.

She glanced at his Astronomy essay. "Jupiter's biggest moon is Ganymede, not Callisto, and it's Io that's got the volcanos."

"Thanks." He nearly tore through the parchment with how hard he was dragging the quill through the incorrect lines.

"Sorry, I only-"

"Yeah, well, if you're just here to criticize-"

"Ron-"

"I haven't got time to listen to a sermon, Hermione, I'm up to my neck in it here-"

"No, look!"

We all looked in the direction she was pointing.

"Hermes," I said. I blinked. I wondered if I was so tired I was hallucinating.

Ron jumped up. "Blimey, it is! What's Percy writing to me for?"

Hermes landed on Ron's essay and held his leg out to me. I untied the letter and passed it to Ron, who collapsed into his chair and began reading. After a couple of seconds, he held the letter out so I could see it too, and I soon understood why.

Dear Ron,
   I have only just heard (from no less a person than the Minister of Magic himself, who has it from your new teacher, Professor Umbridge) that you have become a Hogwarts prefect.
   I was most pleasantly surprised when I heard this news and must firstly offer my congratulations. I must admit that I have always been afraid that you would take what we might call the "Fred and George" route, rather than following in my footsteps, so you can imagine my feelings on hearing you have stopped flouting authority and have decided to shoulder some real responsibility.
   But I want to give you more than congratulations, Ron, I want to give you some advice, which is why I am sending this at night rather than by the usual morning post. Hopefully you will be able to read this away from prying eyes and avoid awkward questions, though if Lucy is around, you might like to share what I am about to say next with her as well.
   From something the Minister let slip when telling me you are now a prefect, I gather that you are still seeing a lot of Harry Potter. I must tell you, Ron, that nothing could put you in danger of losing your badge more than continued fraternization with that boy. Yes, I am sure you are surprised to hear this — no doubt you will say that Potter has always been Dumbledore's favorite — but I feel bound to tell you that Dumbledore may not be in charge at Hogwarts much longer and the people who count have a very different — and probably more accurate — view of Potter's behavior. I shall say no more here, but if you look at the Daily Prophet tomorrow you will get a good idea of the way the wind is blowing — and see if you can spot yours truly!
   Seriously, Ron, you do not want to be tarred with the same brush as Potter, it could be very damaging to your future prospects, and I am talking here about life after school too. As you must be aware, given that our father escorted him to court, Potter had a disciplinary hearing this summer in front of the whole Wizengamot and he did not come out of it looking too good. He got off on a mere technicality if you ask me and many of the people I've spoken to remain convinced of his guilt.
   It may be that you are afraid to sever ties with Potter — I know that he can be unbalanced and, for all I know, violent — but if you have any worries about this, or have spotted anything else in Potter's behavior that is troubling you, I urge you to speak to Dolores Umbridge, a really delightful woman, who I know will be only too happy to advise you.
   This leads me to my other bit of advice. As I have hinted above, Dumbledore's regime at Hogwarts may soon be over. Your loyalty, Ron, should be not to him, but to the school and the Ministry. I am very sorry to hear that so far Professor Umbridge is encountering very little cooperation from staff as she strives to make those necessary changes within Hogwarts that the Ministry so ardently desires (although she should find this easier from next week — again, see the Prophet tomorrow!). I shall say only this — a student who shows himself willing to help Professor Umbridge now may be very well placed for Head Boyship in a couple of years!
   I am sorry that I was unable to see more of you over the summer. It pains me to criticize our parents, but I am afraid I can no longer live under their roof while they remain mixed up with the dangerous crowd around Dumbledore (if you are writing to Mother at any point, you might tell her that a certain Sturgis Podmore, who is a great friend of Dumbledore's, has recently been sent to Azkaban for trespass at the Ministry. Perhaps that will open their eyes to the kind of petty criminals with whom they are currently rubbing shoulders). I count myself very lucky to have escaped the stigma of association with such people — the Minister really could not be more gracious to me — and I do hope, Ron, that you will not allow family ties to blind you to the misguided nature of our parents' beliefs and actions either. I sincerely hope that, in time, they will realize how mistaken they were and I shall, of course, be ready to accept a full apology when that day comes.
   Please think over what I have said most carefully, particularly the bit about Harry Potter, and congratulations again on becoming prefect.
      Your brother, Percy
P.S. Lucy, if you are reading this, I do hope you are recovering well. You can owl me at any time if you have any questions or concerns; I would like to hear your thoughts on Professor Umbridge. I'm sure the two of you are getting on nicely! Please consider what I have said as well, because I have both yours and Ron's best interests at heart as two people who have been closely connected with both Potter and myself.

Ron and I exchanged a look, and we shook our heads in unison, having reached the same conclusion. As he passed the letter to Harry and Hermione, I reached for a new piece of parchment and began to write my own letter to Percy.

Dear Percy,
   Hermes has just arrived with your letter. I hope he doesn't mind making another journey so soon, but I am afraid I cannot wait.
   I'm sorry my handwriting is so shaky. As it turns out, one of the long-term effects of the Cruciatus Curse is uncontrollable shaking. My handwriting is no exception.
   Thank you for your concern. I mean that genuinely. But I'm afraid you are sorely mistaken if you think I will "sever ties" with Harry anytime soon. You see, he's my best friend, and I will stand by him no matter what comes next.
   As far as Professor Umbridge is concerned, I am afraid I have not gotten the chance to know Professor Umbridge's "delightful" side, as she gave me detention within my first 24 hours back at Hogwarts merely for speaking the truth about what happened to my family. In case you've forgotten, I am the only Diggory left. I am sure you will be pleased to know, however, that I hope to stop receiving detentions soon. Please ignore the blood stains on this letter. I do believe the lesson is sinking in, much to her approval.
   I want you to know that I believe Harry, no matter what you or the Ministry or anyone else says. I think to say Harry is a liar is an insult to my brother's memory. You knew him, Percy. You know Cedric wouldn't have dropped dead of his own accord. You know his death would not have been an accident.
   I'm sure that last paragraph has fallen on deaf ears, but I can't bring myself to care. I want all of this to stop, but I get the feeling everything is only getting started. I hope all is well with you, and I hope you think about at least parts of what I said. You know me, Percy, and I'd like to think you respect me. So please, just think about it.
   Again, thank you for being concerned. I mean that genuinely. If I'm being honest with you, Percy, the way you've been so brutally honest with me, I've not been doing well at all. I miss my brother. I miss my mum. I miss my dad. I miss the days where I didn't shake like this. I missed you too, over summer. Whenever you're ready to stop rejecting your family, please come back. I miss you, and I know they do too. You have a family that loves you, Percy. Why are you throwing it all away?
      Sincerely, Lucy
P.S. If I've taken the "Fred and George" route, I'm proud of it. They don't need prefect badges to be happy. Try as I might, I'll never be able to fill my brother's shoes, so the fact that I'm not prefect doesn't bother me. At the end of the day, Cedric knew that the badge was just a badge, and it was how he helped his house that mattered; I don't need a badge for that.

I rolled the letter with a flourish, and Hermes flew over as if he had been expecting this.

"Take this back to Percy, please," I said to the owl, taking the time to stroke his head. "I'm sorry, I know you've flown a long way, but he needs to know where I stand."

The owl hooted lowly and soared back through the open window. I shuddered, suddenly aware of how cold it was inside, and Harry jumped up to close the window.

"Well, if you want to 'sever ties' with me, I swear I won't get violent," Harry said as he returned to his chair. His tone was forcibly light, as if he wanted us to think he thought it was a joke. But we all knew better.

Ron's hand shot out for his brother's letter, and he began tearing it to shreds. "He is the world's biggest git." He turned to me. "What'd you say to him? I'm not even going to reply."

"I told him he was sorely mistaken if he thought I'd ever stop associating with Harry," I replied. I was waiting for a flare of anger, something uncontrollable that would force me to lash out, but it didn't come. It just pulsed below me, as if subdued, or muffled, or suppressed. "I told him I have yet to meet the 'delightful' side of Umbridge but mentioned that I would try to be civil with her now that I'm done with detentions for a while. Then I told him flat-out that I believe Harry and that my brother's death was no accident, and then I begged him to listen to me. I ended by telling him I genuinely appreciated his concern, but I also asked him why he was throwing his family away."

Ron whistled lowly after a moment. "Went off on him a bit, did you?"

"Maybe a bit." I glanced at Harry. "Look, I'd rather not get another detention with Umbridge anytime soon. My hand still bloody hurts. But I'm never going to say I don't believe that Voldemort's back, no matter what it could cost me." I glanced down at my hands. "A-At the same time, though... I'm genuinely touched by his concerned, if a bit surprised. He's always been kind to me. I more or less fainted into his arms after escaping, for Merlin's sake, so I can't hate him. And the bit about your family, Ron..." I laughed, the sound harsh and humorless and nothing like a laugh at all. "Merlin, that was what set me off most. He doesn't know how good he has it." I glanced at Harry again, who was studying me with an intensity that made me reach for my quill again. "I don't think I was mean, though. Was I?"

"I mean, you didn't let us read it," Hermione pointed out, "but I'm sure you weren't mean."

I nodded, glancing back up at Harry. This time, though, he wasn't looking at me, he was looking over my shoulder.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I've just seen Sirius's head in the fire," he replied, getting up out of his chair and kneeling on the rug.

I joined him just as Sirius appeared a second time.

He smiled. "I was starting to think you'd go to bed before everyone else had disappeared. I've been checking every hour."

"You've been popping into the fire every hour?" Harry repeated with a laugh.

"Just for a few seconds to check if the coast was clear yet."

"But what if you'd been seen?" Hermione asked, kneeling on my other side as Ron knelt beside Harry.

"Well, I think a girl — first year by the look of her — might've got a glimpse of me earlier. But don't worry, I was gone the moment she looked back at me and I'll bet she just thought I was an oddly shaped log or something."

"But Sirius, this is taking an awful risk-"

"You sound like Molly. This was the only way I could come up with of answering Harry's letter without resorting to a code — and codes are breakable."

Ron and Hermione both turned to look at Harry.

"You didn't say you'd written to Sirius!" Hermione said.

"I forgot. Don't look at me like that, Hermione, there was no way anyone would have gotten secret information out of it, was there, Sirius?"

"No, it was very good! Anyway, we'd better be quick, just in case we're disturbed — your scar. Well, I know it can't be fun when it hurts, but we don't think it's anything to really worry about. It kept aching all last year, didn't it?"

"Yeah, and Dumbledore said it happened whenever Voldemort was feeling a powerful emotion, so maybe he was just, I don't know, really angry or something the night Lucy had that detention."

"Well, now he's back it's bound to hurt more often."

"So you don't think it had anything to do with Umbridge touching me?"

"I doubt it. I know her by reputation and I'm sure she's no Death Eater-"

"She's foul enough to be one."

"Yes, but the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters. I know she's a nasty piece of work, though — you should hear Remus talk about her."

"Does he know her?" Harry asked, stiffening.

"No, but she drafted a bit of anti-werewolf legislation that makes it almost impossible for him to get a job."

Hermione turned to look at me with wide eyes before turning back to Sirius. "What's she got against werewolves?"

"Scared of them, I expect. Apparently she loathes part-humans; she campaigned to have merpeople rounded up and tagged last year too. Imagine wasting your time and energy persecuting merpeople when there are little toerags like Kreacher on the loose-"

"Sirius! Honestly, if you made a bit of an effort with Kreacher I'm sure he'd respond, after all, you are the only member of his family he's got left, and Professor Dumbledore said-"

"So what are Umbridge's lessons like? Is she training you all to kill half-breeds?"

Harry glanced at me briefly before turning to the fire and answering, "No, but she's not letting us use magic at all!"

"All we do is read the stupid textbook," Ron added.

Sirius sighed. "Ah, well, that figures. Our information from inside the Ministry is that Fudge doesn't want you trained in combat."

"Trained in combat? What does he think we're doing here, forming some sort of wizard army?"

"That's exactly what he thinks you're doing, or rather, that's exactly what he's afraid Dumbledore's doing — forming his own private army, with which he will be able to take on the Ministry of Magic."

Ron was the first to find his voice. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, including all the stuff that Luna Lovegood comes out with."

"She's not stupid," I said, but Hermione talked over me.

"So we're being prevented from learning Defense Against the Dark Arts because Fudge is scared we'll use spells against the Ministry?"

"Yep. Fudge thinks Dumbledore will stop at nothing to seize power. He's getting more paranoid about Dumbledore by the day. It's a matter of time before he has Dumbledore arrested on some trumped-up charge."

"D'you know if there's going to be anything about Dumbledore in the Daily Prophet tomorrow?" Harry asked. "Only Ron's brother Percy reckons there will be."

Bitterness filled Sirius's tone as he replied. "I don't know. I haven't seen anyone from the Order all weekend, they're all busy. It's just been Kreacher and me here."

"And Beaky?" I asked, managing a small smile.

Sirius smiled back, some of the bitterness leaving his tone. "Beaky, too."

"Have you heard anything about Hagrid, Sirius? Fang misses him terribly."

His smile faded. "Ah... well, he was supposed to be back by now, no one's sure what's happened to him. But Dumbledore's not worried, so don't you three get yourselves in a state; I'm sure Hagrid's fine."

"But if he was supposed to be back by now..." I said, feeling the blood drain from my face. "If... if he's in trouble like I was..."

"Madame Maxime was with him, we've been in touch with her and she says they got separated on the journey home — but there's nothing to suggest he's hurt or — well, nothing to suggest he's not perfectly okay."

I gnawed on my lower lip, feeling a bit dizzy all of a sudden.

"Listen, don't go asking too many questions about Hagrid, it'll just draw even more attention to the fact that he's not back, and I know Dumbledore doesn't want that. Hagrid's tough, he'll be okay. Oh, say, when's your next Hogsmeade weekend? I was thinking, we got away with the dog disguise at the station, didn't we? I thought I could-"

"NO!" Harry and Hermione said in unison.

"Sirius, didn't you see the Daily Prophet?" Hermione asked.

He grinned. "Oh that, they're always guessing where I am, but they haven't really got a clue."

Harry shook his head, not returning the grin. "Yeah, but we think this time they have. Something Malfoy said on the train made us think he knew it was you, and his father was on the platform, Sirius — you know, Lucius Malfoy — so don't come up here, whatever you do, if Malfoy recognizes you again-"

"Alright, alright, I've got the point. Just an idea, thought you might like to get together-"

"I would, I just don't want you chucked back in Azkaban!" Harry replied desperately.

The bitterness returned to Sirius's voice. "You're less like your father than I thought. The risk would've been what made it fun for James."

I sucked in a small breath. I knew that had to have hurt Harry.

"It's not-" I started to say, but I was talked over for a second time in that conversation.

"Well, I'd better get going, I can hear Kreacher coming down the stairs. I'll write to tell you a time I can make it back into the fire, then, shall I? If you can stand to risk it?"

"Sirius, please don't go-" I tried to say, but he disappeared.

A moment of silence hung over our heads.

"I'm going to head to bed," Hermione said. "At least we learned a couple of things from that."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, rising to his feet and clapping Harry on the shoulder. "You coming too, mate?"

"I'm going to look over my essay one more time," I said quickly. I glanced at Harry, who was still staring into the fire.

"Alright," Ron said. We exchanged a brief glance, and I watched as he gathered Harry's materials as well as his own and headed up the stairs.

I met Hermione's eyes. "I'll be up in a bit. I should probably work on more homework since I'm not terribly tired right now."

She nodded and disappeared up the stairs, understanding my unspoken meaning.

"Harry?" I asked softly. "You alright?"

"Of course," he muttered, his eyes not leaving the fire.

I touched his arm. "Look, Harry, what he said about your dad-"

"I'm fine." Harry wrenched his arm away and met my eyes. "Not terribly tired? Lucy, you're exhausted, it's written all over your face."

Our eyes locked, and for a moment, I saw the hurt and the anger and the desperation.

And then he forced it all away. His eyes were expressionless.

He wasn't fine. But he said he was.

I looked away, unable to keep such unauthentic eye contact after his eyes had always been so honest. "Alright, then, if that's what you want to talk about, I'll go to bed," I snapped. I jumped up and started throwing my books into my bag without looking at him again. "I just thought you might want to hear that I don't care if you're like your dad or not, because in case you haven't noticed, Ron and Hermione and I never knew your dad but we like you just as you are."

In the silence that followed, my thoughts were so loud I thought he might have heard them as they ricocheted around my skull.

I know how it feels! I wanted to scream. I know how it feels to have someone look at you and wish you were someone else! And I would have told you all of this if you weren't so bloody stubborn!

Don't hide from me, I wanted to whisper. Because if you're hiding from me, I have no choice but to hide from you.

I snapped my bag shut and threw it over my shoulder, tears filling my eyes as I glanced at Harry, who seemed to be frozen on the rug in front of the fire, staring at me with those same expressionless eyes.

"Look, I know what you promised Cedric," I said, voice trembling, "but maybe it would be easier for both of us if you let me try to take care of you from time to time, because I know all of this is hard for you too. And I know I understand better than Ron or Hermione, or even Sirius, for that matter."

Harry didn't look away. And neither did I.

"I'm fine," he said again.

"So am I," I lied right back.

If he's going to lie to me, I'm going to lie to him.

It would be safest for him this way.

Percy had it wrong.

Harry isn't a danger to me.

I'm a danger to him.

Harry isn't the monster.

I am.

And just like that, an invisible barrier went up between the two of us, like an unnecessary shield charm. Who are we really trying to protect here? Each other? Ourselves? Or our pride? It looked for a moment as if he felt it too, as if he felt the unnecessary shield charm too, panic flickering across his eyes, but as soon as it appeared, he pushed it away again.

"Good night," I said.

"Good night," Harry replied.

As I climbed the stairs, I found myself wondering why that good night felt more like a goodbye.