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xxvi. She's Not Mad
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THEA'S WRAPPED FROM head to toe in warm clothing, but it doesn't keep the cold out as she trudges miserably from the castle, on her birthday, alone. Everyone is lining up, shoving permission slips in Filch's face, excited for a day of butterbeer and sweets in Hogsmeade.

She feels someone tap her shoulder; it's a familiar tap, one that starts a tingle of comfort flowing through her body.

When she turns around, she feels happier than she has in weeks.

"Dean! I've missed you so much!"

Dean laughs, shaking his head.

"You're the one who stopped speaking to me." he points out.

Thea frowns. "I'm really sorry –"

"It's fine. I'm not mad at you. I know you've not been yourself, and I respect that sometimes you just need a little bit of space." Dean smiles weakly.

Thea stares at him, head tilted, looking for even the smallest sign that he's lying, but she finds nothing but pure sincerity.

"Are you sure? I've been an awful friend to you..." she trails off quietly, expecting him to agree because it's true; she knows that. 

"It's OK. I just want you to be happy, Thea. It's fine. I understand –"

Thea cuts off his warm voice by enveloping him in an unbelievably tight embrace, and it's as though all the sharp, icy weather trapped in her skin is killed.

"Thank you...I have been going through a rough patch, but I didn't mean to cut you off."

She feels him smile into her shoulder.

"Happy birthday, tiger."

Pulling away, she links her arm with his and falls into step beside him, her head slightly clearer and the weight on her shoulders lifted. How could she ever doubt Dean?

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"So, aren't you going to fill me in?" Dean asks when they sit down with coffee in the Three Broomsticks, a little grin on his face.

Thea sighs. "Well, I guess talking about it might help."

She bites her lip, taking a sip of her drink as though to buy herself time, before closing her eyes and forcing the words out, in the smallest whisper she can manage.

"I met with Dumbledore, and I told him the truth about Jude, he – he showed me a memory of my father's –"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"He showed me a memory of my parents... my mother wanted to sell Harry's parents out, and my father tried to save them," Thea mutters, hiding behind her coffee cup. "But to do that, he had to wipe mine and my mother's memories of himself."

"...Wow, T. I don't even know what to say. Have you told Harry?"

Thea grimaces. "No, I haven't. I will though, eventually."

"I'm hoping by now though, you've accepted that you fancy him."

Dean raises his eyebrows, when Thea carries on staring at him, saying nothing.

"Just... say which ever one comes to your mind first. Your gut feeling."

She tries to picture just one face clearly, but her mind won't stop flickering between the two, the explanation behind the fluttering of her heart still unclear. She finds herself trying to attach herself to Jude. He saved her life, he helped her escape. That must mean something, right? She finds her stomach plummeting when Jude's dark, gorgeous jawline turns to Harry's soft look, his emerald eyes and the pink of his cheeks all too fast, and it doesn't budge. Dean's still talking, but all she can hear is the uncertainty behind Harry's words when he said, "If you trust Thea, you're barking,", which hurt even more because all she ever feels about him is certain...

All the thought of Jude makes her feel is guilt, bitter-tasting, ever-lasting guilt, especially when she looks Dean straight in the eye and says,

"Harry."

Dean can't stop a smile breaking out on his face.

But Thea can't smile back. When her gaze drifts towards the bar, she can see two familiar women, one with a veil covering her face, and one looking around the room with distaste. Her eyes widen, and her stomach feels sick. Her heart is pounding, and she looks at Dean with horror choking her.

"Thea, is that who I think it is?"

All Thea can do is nod slowly.

She's desperate to get away from the gaze of her mother and Bellatrix Lestrange, but it's like she's frozen to her chair. She's scanning the room for a certain someone, but it's Dean's voice that sets her body in motion.

"He's over there. By the door," Dean mumbles, frowning.

That's when Thea slips out of the booth, her eyes scanning the room for him. She spots him, and by the fear on his face as he meets her eyes, he's seen their mothers too.

They stride over to each other, moving into the light where they'll be able to see them, but Thea doesn't look at them, knowing they would work out their plan if she did. Jude smiles at her, as though to mask the reality behind his words.

"I can't believe they've done this. They really are trying to taunt us."

Thea forces a laugh, and puts her hand on his shoulder. "I know, but I'm not surprised at all. I'm surprised they haven't already done it, to be honest."

Jude looks at Thea, "They're looking."

Thea gulps. "What are we going to do?"

Jude meets Thea's eyes. "They're here to see if we've made progress. If we've got you on side. So we have to pretend."

Thea breathes out slowly. She reaches for his hand, linking their fingers together, feeling grounded by his presence, one of the only people who knows what she's been through.

Her voice shakes as it comes out. "I'm scared."

She moves closer to him.

"Me too, Cinders. But I'm here." He strokes her hair out of her face, and Thea can feel more eyes on her than just their mothers'. "Do you trust me?"

"With my life," Thea whispers, without missing a moment.

She can see his face slowly moving towards hers, and after a second, they lean in and kiss.

They break apart quickly, and when Thea looks over to see if her mother and Bellatrix are still there, she can't see them.

But she does see Harry, frozen at the door, and when he meets her eyes, Thea can't believe what she's done.

"Oh shit," Thea says.

"Hey! Cinders, don't go after him!"

Thea gives Jude an apologetic look as he grabs onto her hand, before she pulls away and takes off after Harry.

What a mess.

✦

The wind seems to hit her like knives when she steps into the cold outside of the pub, following after Harry. The icy weather doesn't seem to even sway the burning guilt in her whole body.

Glancing back, she can see that Ron and Hermione are only a few metres behind her and she speeds up, managing to fall into step next to Harry. She slows her pace, so that Ron and Hermione overtake them. Thea finds her eyes wandering to a pair of girls, Katie Bell and her friend who she's sure is called Leanne, who are bickering a few steps ahead.

As she walks beside Harry, she looks at him, to find he's attempting to wipe the sleet from his glasses to no avail. While he's slightly distracted, and she can avoid his piercing gaze, she takes the opportunity to speak up.

"Harry?"

He doesn't say anything.

Breathing in to calm herself, she says, "I'm really sorry for that."

"Thea, why did you come after me? I don't really want to talk to you right now."

Thea falls silent.

"Not until you figure out what you want."

She can still taste guilt. Why did she kiss Jude? How could she have been so stupid? A part of her wanted to kiss him – he's Jude, after all, and she swears no one has made her feel so weak in her whole life, and she knows deep down that no one else ever will.

Before she can respond, a loud, terrible scream drags her from her consuming thoughts, and her eyes shoot up to see Katie Bell suspended by seemingly nothing in the air, the harrowing sound leaving her open mouth, but her face drained of everything that made it human and feeling.

Thea feels the darkness lurking in her bones, as though the curse has moved from her heart, and poisoned the rest of her body. Being so close to an external form of dark magic has sent her own haywire, and she can feel the curse, that's gaining a mind of its own feel excited, whilst she feels sick to her stomach. How could she ever allow herself to feel a form of enjoyment at someone else's pain? It's not her, it's not, she isn't bad, she isn't a Death Eater...it's her curse.

"Thea, some help please?"

Hermione's incredulous voice fills her pained ears and pulls her from her disturbing mind, animating her body that's stiff and still full of guilt and dread. She's starting to hate it...hate this part of her that savours anguish and power...because she swears it's starting to win. She's so constantly caught up in her own mind while trying to run away from herself at the same time...

As she moves forwards towards the chaos, she catches the glimpse of an open package on the ground, out of which spills a sapphire and silver statement necklace. She pauses again. It's familiar. So familiar that it's haunting.

The guilt returns, but in its wake brings a name that she can't shake.

Draco.

Prickles burn her skin, and she can't stay here, not anymore. She's being eaten alive by guilt, so when her eyes meet Harry's, whose face is full of concern and confusion, she turns on her heel and she runs.

She runs until her legs hurt and her chest is heaving when she stumbles into Hogwarts, that's silent and abandoned.

The cold rain does nothing but sizzle on her scarlet cheeks, mixing with tears that are bringing on an almost unbearable headache.

Thea knew she would crumble, but now the cracks are starting to show, and everyone is noticing. She feels like she wants to cry when she remembers the heartbreak on Harry's face when she pulled away from Jude, but she can't help but protect him, protect Draco. They've saved her, countless times. But she remembers what Dumbledore said to her, What her father would say to her if he could see her.

All she wants right now is her dad.

She knows both sides of this war have gotten so stuck under her skin that she thinks, even after it's over, she'll still feel it.

"Oh no," Thea cries to herself softly, pacing back and forth in the courtyard.

What is she going to do? Should she confront Draco? She has no idea. She doesn't know what the right thing to do is.

Looking around, alarmed, as though wary that she's being watched, she shuffles into the castle's shadows and starts to make her way to the common room to sit by the fire.

She desperately wants to dry off and warm up.

She feels her freezing cold hair stick uncomfortably to her neck, her hands quivering and her teeth chattering. But her chest shakes and expands, as hot as the roaring fireplace at home. Although, she finds herself comparing it more to the one in the room she was kept in as prisoner for weeks – months? In all honesty, she doesn't know how long she was there. Sometimes, she still feels like she is. Like she'll never get out...

"Cindercroft!"

She whips around, startled, to see Filch staring at her from a few feet away.

"What?" she snaps, glaring at him and the bog brush with eyes, as she likes to call it (his cat).

"Professor McGonagall would like a word with you." He turns on his heel and disappears, Thea only just catching sight of the scarf bundled in his arms.

Frowning, Thea sighs and begins the journey to McGonagall's office, her heart beginning to pound, because she knows exactly what this will be about... it'll be about Katie Bell...

Bracing herself, she raises her hand and knocks timidly on the door, which opens immediately.

"Come in, Miss Cindercroft." McGonagall's sharp tone cuts through the air.

Thea is greeted by curious looks from Ron and Hermione, whilst Harry ignores her.

"Is everything OK, Professor?"

"OK? Miss Cindercroft, I am told by your friends here that you saw what happened to Miss Bell? Surely you know everything is most certainly not OK!" McGonagall's eyes pierce into Thea's, along with her friends'.

Thea remains as stiff as a board. Keep calm. Show nothing. Not a flash of fear. Not anything that could be interpreted as bad. Because you're not bad. You're not bad. You're not. Maybe if you keep telling yourself that, you'll start to believe it...

"How is she?"

McGonagall narrows her eyes. "She's lucky to be alive! Mr Potter believes Draco Malfoy had something to do with this. Now, I, along with Mr Weasley and Miss Granger, find this accusation completely ludicrous." her words are weighted, Thea can feel it. She can feel it along with the four stares burning into her, but Lyra Vincent speaks in her mind... Show. Them. Nothing. They will use it against you.

" – what would you say? Does Draco Malfoy have anything to do with this?"

Thea pauses. Harry's pleading eyes burn into her side, begging for her to agree with him, to back him. She takes in a deep breath, and looks over at him. He meets her eyes, and Thea can't read what he's thinking.

It's silent for a moment, before Harry speaks.

"You're friends with him, aren't you Thea? So you would know. Better than us, anyway."

Thea looks away from him, and settles her gaze on her shoes.

"I don't know," she mumbles.

Ignore the guilt. Ignore Harry's disappointment. Ignore it. Ignore it. Ignore it.

"Thank you, Miss Cindercroft. Granger, Potter, Weasley – you can go. Miss Cindercroft, can I talk to you please?"

Her friends leave. She still needs to hold it together, but she won't be able to if she looks at them, so she doesn't. She can't.

"Miss Cindercroft," McGonagall's face softens ever so slightly. She looks quite maternal. "Are you alright? You seem different – and I know about your...affliction. The passing out."

Thea feels tears burn her eyes.

"I just want my dad."

McGonagall's face softens, and she places a hand on Thea's shoulder.

"Thea...you should know, I taught your father. And I see so much of him in you. I hope one day that you can be reunited. You can stay for a cup of tea, if you'd like."

Thea smiles through the pain in her head, and a tear spills over her eyelashes.

"Thanks, Professor...but I have to go, I have so much homework – Professor Snape wants a ten-inch essay on...some theory, I can't remember which... for Charms I need to –"

"Very well dear, you may go. Please let me know if there's anything I can do..."

Thea smiles again. She turns around and slips out of the door, making her way to the common room to make her start on her mountain of work, avoiding the library, as she knows very well that a certain, dark-haired, gorgeous boy will be there. One she does not want to see.

Thinking of Jude brings Draco back to her mind, which makes her stomach drop. She has never felt so torn on what to do. Does she confront him about Katie? Is it worth it? She tries to tell herself that it might not have even been Draco who gave the necklace. He's smarter than this. Surely he's smarter than this. Sighing and shaking her head as she mutters the password to the portrait, she climbs into the common room and makes her way up to her dorm to get her stuff, deciding that ignorance is bliss and she'll leave Draco alone until he slips up again. It's not my problem, she thinks, but she can't seem to shake the responsibility on her shoulders, and that terrible, stubborn guilt.