Chapter 4
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When the weather outside started to get warmer, the Gryffindor trio decided to hang out close to the Black Lake. They weren't sitting at the edge of the lake as most students did. Ron was still hesitant to get close ever since he fell in that one time. And the second time.

It was a weekend and although Hermione wanted to spend the next weeks in the library, studying for finals, Harry and Ron convinced her that a bit a fresh air would do her good.

They didn't expect, however, to be joined by the fourth person.

"Hermione! Fancy seeing you, here."

"Millie! Come on," she patted the spot next to her "come sit."

Millicent complied.

Ron tried to get a good look at the blonde's face, but the sun was blaring right at him. He tried to create a shadow with his hand.

"Bulstrode," he stated.

"Weasley. Seems like you remember me. Can't really say the same about Potter, I'm assuming."

Harry gave her half a shrug. He still hadn't learned her name.

Millicent scoffed. "I've met you more than I've met Weasley, you know?" She proceeded to introduce herself. Hopefully, Harry would be able to remember her name.

Harry took a look at Ron, who was still staring at Millicent with the same wary look he was eyeing the lake a moment ago.

Harry thought that he'll get over it.

Millicent also noticed his vigilance and rolled her eyes. Deciding to ignore him, she made herself comfortable next to Hermione. "So, Hermione. What do you know about Walkmans? Do you think I can bring mine to school next year?"

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"What did you do this time?"

The entirety of the Gryffindor table was staring daggers at Harry and Hermione. Weasley was at the hospital wing and their House lost 150 points overnight. Which shouldn't be even possible.

Adhara didn't want to admit it but her curiosity was peaked. What could the trio possibly have done this time to have lost such a large amount of points in such a small space of time?

Apparently, the answer was an illegal dragon. Which they illegally smuggled into the castle. And illegally shipped off to Romania.

And here Adhara thought they couldn't get any worst after the bloody cerberus.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. "Hermione, I'm starting to think these boys are a bad influence on you."

Hermione turned scarlet. "You never cared about rules either!"

"Yes, but I never get caught."

"What kind of rules have you broken?" Harry butted in. He was still annoyed with Adhara.

Adhara considered him for a second before saying, "You aren't the only one who wanted to sneak into the restricted section."

Harry snapped his head towards his bushy-haired friend who's face flushed even more. No one was supposed to know that.

"Whatever. You never handled a dragon."

"You're right. I haven't. And even if I had, I would've been more cautious. And I certainly wouldn't get caught."

"Yeah? And how exactly would you have done that?"

"For one, I wouldn't have gone out at all last night. You could've very well just told Charlie Weasley to pick up the dragon at Hagrid's hut."

Harry's mouth snapped shut. He hadn't thought of that.

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Adhara was repeatedly scratching her hands. They felt itchy and all she wanted to do was take her gloves off. But she couldn't. The library was full to the brim, and Hermione and Millie sat near her. The idea of finals was already stressing her out, she couldn't handle being flooded with questions about the furnace room on top of that.

Not to mention there was the whole ordeal with the Philosopher's Stone, which she was certain all three Gryffindors would go after at one point or another.

They informed Millie on the matter as well, and she was also very much against the idea.

At first, Adhara thought Hermione would talk the other two out of the plan but after the incident with the dragon, she wasn't so sure anymore.

Adhara started gnawing the inside of her mouth, without noticing. But both of her friends did.

She wasn't sure why it worried her so much. Hermione was smart, she could handle herself. Weasley wasn't her friend anyway. And Harry was...

..well she didn't know what Harry was. Not a friend. Or perhaps he was? They were on first-name basis. Sorta. He rambled to her about quidditch quite often. They don't hate each other's presence. They had the same godfather and they both hated Snape.

Did that make them friends?

She huffed. Whatever. He was being annoying about the stone anyway.

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Hermione and Millicent kept their eyes on their third friend. Adhara kept fidgeting and absentmindedly picking at her glove.

Both girls exchanged a look. They weren't stupid. They noticed how cautious Adhara was about showing her hands. Some of her gloves even reached all the way to her elbows. It was the ones she wore when it got warmer and she wanted to wear short-sleeved shirts.

They didn't know why she wore them. They could only guess with that horrible habit of hers, not knowing about the level of mess that hid under the piece of fabric.

Adhara kept picking at her glove. Picking, and picking and picking until there was no more fabric. She created a small hole but that didn't stop her from picking at her skin. She continued the action, without noticing what she was doing.

Hermione eyed the movement and saw marred skin through the gap. She gasped, grasping Adhara's hand which got her out of her trance-like state.

"Adhi!"

"What?"

Millie, who was just as worried, asked, "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Hermione motioned towards her hand.

"Oh."

"You ought to stop doing that."

"Yeah."

"Don't worry. We'll try and help."

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It seemed like the story really wasn't much different this time around. The trio still went after the stone. Neville still tried to stop them. And Hermione still stunned him.

But this time, a certain Slytherin was waiting for them at the door on the third floor. And she was going to change a few things.

"Hermione, you can't possibly be condoning th-" she stopped when she saw the determined look in her eye. "All three of you have gone mental!"

"At least we aren't sitting at the edge like cowards," interjected Potter.

"There are other ways to fight."

"This is our way."

"It's the reckless way."

"It's the Gryffindor way."

"I am not Gryffindor."

"Clearly."

Adhara huffed. "Fine. You do your way, and I'll do mine."

Potter was taken aback. "What? How?"

"The Slytherin way. As in the smart and less reckless way."

Potter glared.

Adhara continued to speak. "Half an hour. I'm giving you half an hour and if after that you three are still not back, I'm going straight to Professor McGonagall."

"And if she doesn't believe you?"

"Oh, trust me. I can be quite convincing when motivated."

"You find this motivating?"

"I'm not about to let you two let one of my only friends die."

"You don't have to worry about that. Believe me, we will all be fine."

"I don't care about what you believe." She stepped away from the door, leaving the trio access to the entrance. Hermione gave her an apologetic smile before going in, Weasley following behind her. She grabbed Potter's arm before he could follow.

"If you die, I will have to hex you."

Potter gave her a half-smile before handing her the invisibility cloak.

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Adhara was leaning against the door, tapping her feet against the stone floor of the stairwell. She was safe under the invisibility cloak, so Filch couldn't catch her.

Only twenty minutes had passed but Adhara was getting impatient. It shouldn't be taking this long to begin with, right? She was starting to think of the worst. What if one of them got hurt? Or what if Snape found them and curse them? What if he already had the stone and her friends were possibly putting their lives in danger for no reason whatsoever!?

Adhara had had enough.

She secured the cloak around her and made her way towards the Gryffindor Head of House's chambers.

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"For the umpteenth time, Miss Black, the stone is perfectly safe where it is. Now, I don't know how you found out-"

Adhara drowned her out, allowing herself to groan out loud, frustrated. She curled her fingers in her sleeves, trying her best to keep eye contact with the professor.

Usually, she would never let herself show this much emotion in front of an adult, especially if said adult was around the same age as Matron. But McGonagall wasn't listening and her friends could be in potential danger.

She took a deep breath. "Professor," she said, cutting her off, "whether someone is after the stone or not doesn't really matter here. What's important is that three of your students were convinced enough that there was in order to go after it."

The professor's eyes turned to saucers.

"They are there as we speak and I have a feeling that there is more than just a cerberus protecting the stone."

McGonagall instantly grabbed her wand and a stream of white light was sent towards her window. She rubbed her eyes.

"Why on earth would they do such a reckless thing?"

"I wouldn't know, Professor. They are Gryffindors, after all. You should know better than me."

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"Hey."

Adhara sat at the foot of Harry's bed. He's been asleep for almost three days and only woke up this morning. No one was allowed to visit him yet, so naturally, Adhara took that as a challenge to do exactly that.

"I told you not to get hurt."

"No, you said you'd hex me if I died. And I didn't. So, you can't."

Adhara sighed, exasperated, which made Harry laugh.

"Minor detail."

Adhara scrutinized him, waiting to see if she was missing something. He seemed way too okay for someone who was unconscious for three days straight.

But Adhara wasn't fooled. She grew up watching abused children and knew how they behaved. How to look for the signs. She was one herself, after all. She wasn't oblivious enough to not know that.

Harry, on the other hand.

"What?"

"Spill. What happened down there?"

"You could wait for Ron and Hermione. I have to tell them to and I don't want to repeat myself."

"I could. But that would mean settling for whatever diluted truth you're going to tell them."

Harry frowned.

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Madam Pomfrey came back to check on Harry after a while, so Adhara had to hide under the invisibility cloak—which she still had in her possession. When the nurse left to eat lunch at the Grand Hall half an hour later, she slid out from under it and sat back down at her original spot.

Harry didn't understand why he trusted Adhara so much. He's not meant to trust her at all. She was Slytherin, she was Dark and, most of all, she was a Black. She shared blood with the man who betrayed his parents and a House with the one who killed them. Yet somehow, against his better judgment, he had begun to trust her.

Maybe it was because of her unapologetic honesty, or maybe it was because of her snarky nature. Perhaps it was simply because she understood. From what little information he got out of Ron about Aleyne, he could tell Adhara didn't have the rosiest of childhoods. And neither did he.

So he began to talk. He told her about the mirror, the stone, about Quirrel and who he was hiding beneath his turban. He told her about the encounter with the cloaked figure at the forbidden forest. He told her about his aching scar and then afterwards he continued.

He continued on with the Dursley's. He told her about their hatred towards magic and he told her the cupboard under the stairs. He didn't go much into detail about how they treated him, but he didn't need to. Adhara would understand, her gloves were proof of that.

At the end of his confession, Harry felt his eyes water but rapidly blinked the tears away. He wasn't supposed to cry. Crying meant getting hit, so he never cried.

Still, he felt too exposed, which he found idiotic since he's the one who spilled everything, to begin with. Adhara didn't ask him about the Dursley's. He's the one who volunteered the information so he didn't understand why he was being so sensitive.

Harry curled into himself, tugging the sleeves of his shirt over his knuckles.

Adhara eyed the movement. She closed her eyes, letting herself think. It was a lot of information to take in in one sitting.

She anticipated the neglect and abuse. She still didn't know to what extreme but that didn't matter. Abuse in any degree was abuse nonetheless. She guessed there was more to the story, but didn't pry. Harry would open up when he wanted to. If he wanted to.

Adhara could tell Harry felt vulnerable at the moment, with his knees pulled up to his chest. The scale was tipping too much on his side, and Adhara thought maybe evening it out would help him feel better.

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes once more.

Harry was still staring at her, confusion written all over his face.

She grabbed the bottom of her right glove with her left thumb and took another deep breath, making sure she was alright with what she was about to do.

When she was sure of herself, she pulled the glove off all the way—just one—and put her hand out towards Harry. It was the most exposed she felt all year.

Harry checked over the red splotches of crinkled and battered skin. He tried not to react but failed miserably, letting out a small gasp.

Adhara turned her hand, palm facing down. Healed scars littered her fingers, contrasting greatly with the girl's own olive-brown skin. Harry noticed how the space between her index and thumb displayed scratch marks. The nail on her pinky was missing.

"Aleyne is always cold, so someone has to constantly manage the furnace or else we would all freeze. Obviously, Matron could easily keep the heat with magic, but she finds joy in using the task as a punishment. We also get locked in the furnace room sometimes as punishment."

Harry nodded. He understood what it all meant. The endless chores, the unfair punishments, the locking up. It was all too familiar.

He pulled away his legs at the same time as Adhara put her glove back on.

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They sat there in silence, not knowing how to pick up from the conversation.

Harry was the first one to speak.

"I wasn't going to tell the diluted truth, you know."

Adhara watched him speak.

"To Ron and Hermione, I mean. I was going to tell them the whole truth about what happened with Quirrel."

"Good," she nodded. "They deserve to know the whole truth. They're your best friends."

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On the train ride back home, Adhara joined the trio in their compartment. Weasley, having gotten used to her presence long ago, made no comments. He simply lied down on the bench, tossing his legs on Harry's lap and crossing his hands under his head.

Adhara mulled over her plan in her head before poking Harry at the edge of his shoes with her foot, grabbing his attention.

"Oi, Harry. What's your address? I'm going to need it if I want to write to you."

"Why?" asked Hermione from next to her, "Owls don't need an address. They know how to find everyone."

"Be that as it may, I don't own an owl. There is only one at my orphanage and Matron is the one who uses him. She doesn't let us use one. If I want to write to you all, I will have to do it the muggle way, so I'm going to need his address. And yours too, now that I think about it."

Hermione contemplated her for a second before shrugging and taking out a piece of parchment from her bag.

"Sure, I'll write it down for you. Harry, what's yours?"

He recited his address, and Adhara smirked triumphantly.

"Do you want me to write down Ron's one too?"

"I don't think Weasley would appreciate a letter from yours truly."

"Oh, nonsense! You two should write. Ron, what's your address?"

The said boy didn't answer and only turned away from the two. He obviously wasn't sleeping, only pretending and ignoring the rest of the compartment's occupants.

And if Millicent slipped in a few minutes later, he would pretend not to notice either. After all, it wasn't too unexpected, was it?

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