LUCY:

I stuffed the letter to Cedric into an envelope and tossed it beneath my bed before reaching for a tissue and blowing my nose. My roommates were still in Herbology, so I didn't have to worry about bothering anyone with my loud honking. I sighed shakily as I vanished the tissue and reached for another one, then another one, then another one. I felt awful. I needed a nap. But it was nearly time for Potions and not showing up for that class too would only fuel the rumors that were surely circulating already.

My tears had stopped by the time I was done trumpeting into a fifth tissue, and I splashed a bit of cold water on my face before heading downstairs.

To my horror, Harry was waiting near the base of the stairs to the girls' dormitory. I could tell he was trying not to look like he was waiting for me, but I knew him too well to believe that and I was quite certain he knew that too.

A miniscule smile was toying with the corners of his mouth. "Are you alright? I heard — "

"Piss off." I intended it to come out jokingly, but it sounded sharp even to my own ears.

Harry froze, his face dropping.

I was talking again before he could say anything else. "No, I'm not alright. In what world would I be alright?"

"Sorry," Harry said. He sounded sincere. "I just — "

"I know," I interrupted. "Why were you just standing there listening to me blow my nose?"

"I wasn't just standing here listening to you blow your nose," he snapped. He huffed. "I had just gotten to the common room when I heard... that. And I figured it was you and I wanted to talk to you before we have to sit next to each other in Potions, so here I am. And I — I don't want to make this about me because I'm more worried about you than I am about myself, but — I'm not exactly alright either."

I nodded. "Right. We're still..." Together. I still love you. "Right." I sighed. "I'll be civil."

I opened my mouth to say I was sorry, but something in between anger and shame had tied my vocal cords together. Whatever I said next was just going to hurt him. Harry waited patiently for a moment, but when no sound escaped me, he sighed.

"I'll take civil," he muttered. "Thanks."

I bit my lips together as I nodded. I wanted to reach for him, take his hand, do something to tell him we'd be okay even when words failed me, but I was too scared. I always lost control over my magic when I was emotional.

Harry stared at me. I knew he could see the war happening behind my eyes. The silence was heavy. It hurt. It wasn't the same comfortable silence we had shared so many times before.

"What's on your mind?" I asked when I couldn't bear it anymore. "I thought you wanted to talk to me. I'm here, go ahead, say what you need to say."

"I just want to know what you're thinking," he replied.

I shook my head. "No, you don't."

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. "Oh." The hurt in his eyes intensified. "I — I see. Okay."

With that, he turned on his heel and started heading toward the portrait hole.

"Wait!" I reached out for Harry, jogging forward, pulling my hand back at the last second so I didn't touch him, didn't hurt him. He turned around, expression unreadable. "I didn't — I didn't mean it like — like I was thinking something horrid about you — "

"Oh, really?" he snapped. "You've changed your mind about me since last night, then?"

"Yes!" I burst out. "Well — no, but — I mean yes, I have, a bit, and I — I don't want to hurt you — "

"It's a little late for that."

"I know! I'm — " Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Say it, Lucy, say it. "I'm trying."

"Trying to what?" he snapped.

"Trying to — to fix it."

"How, exactly?" He exhaled sharply through his nose. "You yelled at me last night, you didn't let me get a word in before taking off into the night even though you should know better — "

"I was too upset to think clearly, or to care even if I was thinking clearly — "

"I cared! I care! But I knew you'd just run farther if I tried to follow you so I had to wander around the grounds looking for an Auror who wouldn't bite my head off for being out so late, then I had to explain to Tonks, 'Hey, I did something horrible but I'd make it worse right now if I tried to fix it myself, will you please go find Lucy for me?' Then I got up to my dormitory and checked the Marauder's Map to make sure you got back safely and you were in the bloody Forbidden Forest — "

"I — "

"Please let me finish. I didn't even say a word to Ron until you were back in your dormitory, and even then, I could barely get a word out because I was just so... Lucy, I just feel awful, about everything. How exactly are you trying to fix it? You're either snapping at me or running away from me."

"At least I'm not giving you the silent treatment," I said quietly, face burning as I looked down at my toes. "I know it's not much and I'm sure you'd prefer that to — to what I have been saying, but... I learned that the silent treatment just makes everything worse, and I don't want to make the same mistakes with you that I made with Hermione a year ago when — when she got hurt. I don't want to hurt you. Anymore, I mean. I'm — " Sorry. I'm sorry. I don't know why I can't say it out loud yet but I am.

"Thanks," he said, sounding a little more sincere. "I don't want to hurt you either. I never wanted to hurt you."

I nodded. "You keep saying that."

Harry's face fell ever so slightly. "Do you not believe me?"

"I — " I'm not sure. I just don't know anymore. I'm sorry. "Let's just go to Potions."

Harry turned away from me again, heading toward the portrait hole, and I didn't miss the way he sniffed hard to hold back tears. Like an answer to his, my own tears crawled up my throat. They burned the backs of my eyes when he turned around and gestured for me to go first, because even then, he was still a properly chivalric insufferable git.

We walked down to Potions in silence, side by side. I could tell that Hermione and Ron were watching our every move as we approached, so I forced a smile as I sat down next to Hermione and Harry took a seat across the table, next to Ron.

"Remus says hi to everyone," I said loudly, since we were the first four people in class.

As I had hoped, Professor Slughorn heard me, and his eyes lit up. "Remus? As in Remus Lupin?"

I nodded. "Yes, sir! He stopped by this morning and our paths happened to cross. He was my favorite DADA professor, you see, so I was delighted to see him!"

"Ah, Remus Lupin becoming a professor made quite a bit of sense to me," Professor Slughorn said with a chuckle. "A hard worker, that boy. Potions didn't come to him as naturally as it came to, say, Lily Evans or James Potter, but he was diligent as could be. He was always Lily's date to the Slug Club, did you know? Even once she started dating your father, Harry!"

"I did know that, yes," Harry said, looking like he was trying very hard not to smile. I could tell he was resisting the urge to ask Professor Slughorn about something else Remus had told us on Christmas, but I doubted he actually would, for fear of reminding him of the night he surrendered the true memory of his fateful conversation with Tom Riddle. But I could see the way his eyes had a little more light since we were talking about his parents. It was nice to see him looking just a little happier. I would do what I could to cheer him up.

"Professor, we heard something else from Remus too, about that generation of students," I piped up. "Is it true that a few of your students called you Sluggy?"

Professor Slughorn tossed his head back and laughed loudly. "Yes! Dear Merlin, yes! I had nearly forgotten! James Potter, of course, started it, and Sirius Black and Marlene McKinnon soon jumped in. Merlin's beard, I haven't heard 'Sluggy' in years. Thank you for reminding me of that. So often, my memories of that generation are... less humorous. Far less humorous." His smile faded, but there was a fond nostalgia in his eyes as he looked at Harry for a moment before turning back to me. "Next time Remus Lupin is around, I'd love to talk to him. Send him my way, will you?"

"Of course, sir," I replied with a nod.

Professor Slughorn chuckled to himself as he walked away, repeating "Sluggy" under his breath as he waved at the other students filing in.

Cam slid into the open seat next to me, eyes wide. "Someone's in good spirits, considering one of his students was nearly killed yesterday." She looked at Harry, amusement written all over her features. "Archie sent me an owl this morning. Somehow he already heard what happened, and he told me to tell you that he's sorry you couldn't finish the job."

Harry shot me a despairing glance, but before either of us could even begin to formulate a reply to that, Ron snorted from across the table.

"Sounds like Archie," he remarked. "Malfoy's going to be just fine, the slippery git. How's Graye doing, anyway? I miss his cheerful masochism."

Spared from comment by Ron's helpful intervention and Cam's eagerness to talk about her boyfriend in Malfoy's notable absence from class, Harry and I were able to work on our potions in silence without any outward tension between us. He was struggling without the help of the Half-Blood Prince's book, and Professor Slughorn did notice, but he merely expressed concern when Harry said he hadn't slept well and told him to be sure to rest up before our next class, because we were going to be learning a particularly difficult potion and he needed to be at his best. Harry just turned red and nodded, and he slipped from the room before any of us could comment further on their exchange.

Hermione looked satisfied as she watched him sulk away. "It's about time Harry learns potions properly."

"Oh, will you stop?" Ron groaned. "He's been through enough the past 24 hours without you being like that." His eyes flickered to me for a moment.

"What did he tell you about what I said to him?" I asked warily.

Ron shook his head. "Nothing." When I narrowed my eyes, he held his hands up. "Really! Nothing specific. I can just — tell. He's... hurting. Not that you're not! But he is too."

"What happened?" Cam asked.

I jumped. I had forgotten she was there. I dropped my head and sighed, whispering, "The spell Harry used against Malfoy was the same one that did... all of this — " I gestured to my face. " — to me."

"Oh, shit, Lucy, I'm sorry," she said softly. "I can't even imagine how that must feel."

"Not great," I admitted with a watery laugh, getting to my feet. "Anyway, I — I should go. I'll see you two in Charms — "

Hermione shook her head and grabbed me by the hand. "Come on, we can sit with Ginny and Dean if you don't want to sit with Harry, but you're not missing another meal. Besides, I want to hear about what Remus said."

Without giving me room to protest, Hermione more or less dragged me to the Great Hall. The two of us sat next to each other at the far end of the table, away from anyone who might want to eavesdrop.

"I don't know how much of this he actually wanted to repeat," I said quietly, "but, well, he told me more about the night James saved Snape's life, when Sirius sent him down to the Whomping Willow on a full moon."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Really? What'd he say? How are those situations even remotely similar? When Remus told the story to us a few years ago, he said Sirius thought it would be funny — " I shook my head, and Hermione's eyes widened even more. "What'd he say? Why did Sirius do it?"

"That's the part I'm not sure if I'm supposed to repeat," I admitted. "But the situations are... more similar than I realized. Sirius did it in self-defense, more or less. He thought it was self-defense, at any rate."

"Oh." Hermione blinked. "If that's the case, then I see the similarities. Well, what else did he say?"

"He told me to forgive Harry and let him build trust back before it's too late." I sighed. "I'm — trying. It's just — difficult."

"Well, it was just yesterday," Hermione pointed out.

I nodded, taking a large bite of a sandwich so I didn't have to answer.

Hermione studied me for a long second before speaking again. "I'm not going to tell you what to think or how to feel, but I am going to tell you what I told Harry this morning. You've got to stop thinking the other person is perfect."

"I don't think that," I mumbled. "Not anymore, anyway."

"Well, yes, obviously not anymore, but, well, you two have a bit of a blind spot when it comes to the other person. In more ways than one," she added, and I could tell from the look on her face that she was thinking about us getting together. I opened my mouth to reproach her, but she blinked hard and shook her head before I got the chance. "But that's besides the point. The point is, if you think someone else is perfect, it only hurts that much more when they're not. You've got to be realistic and have realistic expectations of other people. And — " She poked my arm. " — of yourself. He's not perfect, and neither are you, and that's okay."

My face burned. "I know I'm not perfect."

"You still try to be. I know you. And that's not fair to you. You don't have to hold yourself to an impossibly high standard. You're just setting yourself up to fail, and I don't mean that in a 'you'll never be good enough' way, I just mean that perfection is unattainable no matter how good you are or how hard you try. And I know you think the world of Harry, but he's human, same as you, same as me. We're all imperfect and flawed and we all have sharp edges and sharp tongues from time to time. We're going to hurt each other — not always as severely as you and Harry hurt each other this time, but it will still inevitably happen — and that's okay, because we all love each other enough to want to heal together, too. I mean, look at the two of us. If this had happened a year ago, you would have been talking to Ron or Ginny about this, not me."

"I love them, I do, but I'm glad I have you, Mione," I said, resting my head against her shoulder. Hermione jumped a little, surprised, before she rested her head against mine. I closed my eyes and sighed. "I understand what you're trying to say. Thank you. It's still just — difficult."

"It's hard to let go of the idea that you have to be perfect," she confessed softly, "trust me. I've been trying for ages now, and I still haven't fully succeeded. But, well, I suppose that's the point, yeah? Trying? Letting the very act of trying be enough, even if you're never perfect?"

"You're so smart," I said as I lifted my head just to smile at her. "I'll try. And I'll try to let that be enough."

Hermione smiled back. "Happy to hear it." She reached up and grabbed me by the chin, inspecting my face closely. "For what it's worth, trying comes more easily when one is well-rested, and you look like you haven't slept in a week. Any chance I could convince you to have a kip between now and Charms?"

I considered this for a long second, eyes sinking shut as I let myself sink into her touch. "That's tempting, but I think I'd rather see Malfoy for myself. I — I just need to know."

"Alright. I understand." When I opened my eyes again, Hermione let go of my chin and placed another sandwich on my plate before reaching for one of her own. "You can go after you eat. Do you want company?"

"I don't think so, but thanks."

"Alright. I'm planning on spending my free period in the library, if you want to come find me afterwards."

"Thanks, Hermione."

"Of course, Lucy, always."

We ate the rest of our lunch in comfortable silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I ate faster and faster as my curiosity got the better of me. I needed to see Draco for myself before I said or did anything else. I needed to understand. I needed his version of events. I needed to know if he'd have scars like mine because of Harry. I just needed to know.

As soon as my second sandwich was gone and I'd downed a goblet of water, I snatched up my bag and marched off to the Hospital Wing. I needed to see for myself. I needed to know.

Madam Pomfrey didn't look surprised to see me when I burst through the doors.

"He's awake," she said, "and he's fine. I'm only keeping him here for 24 hours because it's protocol for something like this, not out of actual necessity. I'm guessing you're here to ask if it was the same spell?" When I nodded, she sighed. "Yes. I'm sorry."

I cocked my head. "Why are you sorry?"

"Because Professor Snape got there soon enough to stop the bleeding before any permanent damage could take place, and because dittany is the reason Mr. Malfoy won't have any scars to suggest this ever happened but you're allergic to it," she said, her brow wrinkled sorrowfully.

"It's not your fault," I said. "It's not anyone's, except..." My eyes wandered to Draco, who was staring at the ceiling very pointedly. "Can I talk to him?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded and gestured toward his bed, so I stalked over there and dropped my bag.

"Hi," I said.

Draco didn't look away from the ceiling. "I'm guessing you've come to go off on me for attacking your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend," I snapped. I wasn't expecting that sentence to sting quite so much. It wasn't even true, Harry was my boyfriend, but the lie still hurt. "And, well, no. I didn't come here to go off on you, but that's certainly still on the table depending on how this goes. I came here to ask what happened and see you for myself."

"Fine." He undid the top couple buttons of his shirt with a heavy sigh. There were no scars at all, nothing to suggest he'd been nearly eviscerated less than a day ago. "No scars. Lucky me."

"Yeah, lucky you." I narrowed my eyes. "Tell me what happened."

"Potter snuck up on me. He looked threatening. We fired off spells. Then I felt like I was dying. Then Snape was there, and I didn't die, and now here I am without anything to show for it."

I blinked. "I'm sorry, do you want scars to show for it? After five years of mocking me for mine?"

Draco grunted noncommittally. He was still staring up at the ceiling.

"Did you try to hit Harry with the Cruciatus Curse?" I asked.

"Whether I tried or not, I didn't, so I don't see what difference it makes."

"I came in here with an open mind, Draco. I didn't come in here looking for a fight."

He turned to look at me for the first time, his expression unreadable. "What do you want from me, then?"

"An honest conversation," I replied with a shrug. "I didn't come in here to blindly defend Harry. I'm upset that he used the same spell against you that was used against me. I just wanted to know why. Now did you or did you not try to use an Unforgivable Curse against him?"

"I don't know, okay? What do you want to hear? Look, I know I've been dramatic before about how much various injuries hurt, but I swear on the name of Merlin that was the most pain I've ever experienced in my life. The details of what happened before and after are just a blur. I just want to get the hell out of here and forget this ever happened."

"Yeah, you'll be able to do that in no time, no problem," I said bitterly.

Draco glared at me. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I poked his face harder than necessary. "No scars. No lasting damage. Madam Pomfrey said you can go once the 24 hours are up. You can act like it didn't happen all you want. I can't do that, though. I'm reminded of it every time I look in the mirror. You remind me of it even when there aren't mirrors around, because you're unnecessarily cruel." When he was silent, I sighed. "You didn't deserve this, though. For that much, I'm sorry. I still believe Harry, I believe you tried to use the Cruciatus Curse against him, I find it ridiculous that you're not being punished for trying to use an Unforgivable Curse even though it missed, but, well, I'm sorry you had to go through this. I know how painful it is. I thought I was transforming, when it happened to me."

"You — " He blinked. "Transforming feels like that?"

"Yeah, it does. You should consider yourself lucky. That type of pain for you is once in a lifetime, a freak accident. That type of pain for me is like clockwork every month, and I'll never escape it."

He didn't appear to have anything to say to that. I couldn't blame him.

"Harry said you were crying. You want to talk about that?"

"Get out," Malfoy snapped, looking away from me to glare at the ceiling again.

"Fine." I picked up my bag and glared at him for a long second. "You're a bully and I quite frankly can't stand you, Draco Malfoy, but at the end of the day, you're just a scared little boy. I'm not afraid of you. If you ever decide to stop being a prick, let me know. I think we could be friends."

"Get out!" he shouted as he swiveled his head to glare at me.

"Nice talk," I replied, marching out of the Hospital Wing feeling equal parts angry and relieved.

I was going to head up to the library to talk to Hermione, but getting a bit of sleep really did sound nice, so I made my way down to Hagrid's. I didn't want to head up to my dormitory and risk running into Harry in the common room again. I knew it was possible that he'd be watching the Marauder's Map and try to follow me down to Hagrid's, but, well, I just wanted Tuck. Hagrid was teaching a class of third-years when I arrived, but when I asked if I could go visit Tuck, he happily handed me the key to his hut and told me I was welcome to stay as long as I liked.

I curled up with Tuck on the sofa and fell asleep almost immediately, and to my immense relief, I didn't dream. I didn't get to sleep for long, but I did feel a bit more refreshed as I made my way to Charms, covered in a layer of dog hair from Tuck and brown fuzz from Hagrid's blanket.

"Er, good morning," Neville said as I sat next to him. "You alright?"

I nodded. "Had a kip. Didn't sleep much last night. Only just woke up."

"I can tell," he said, chuckling as he reached up to touch my face, tracing a line from my forehead to my jaw. "You have one of those pillow creases running from here to here."

"It was a good kip," I replied with a shrug and a sheepish smile.

"Good. Are you doing alright with... everything that happened yesterday?"

I glanced around the room and spotted Harry right away, hair messier than it had been earlier in the day, as if he'd had a kip too. I sighed. "I will be. Did you know that Malfoy doesn't even have scars?"

"That's... damn." Neville patted my shoulder. "I can't even imagine how that must feel. I'm sorry."

"I'm not exactly sure how it feels, so I can't imagine it would be easy to imagine," I said, a silly kind of smile tugging at my mouth. "Anyway, it's alright. I just need to get through one more class and then Quidditch practice, and then I can get some sleep and hope everything makes more sense tomorrow morning."

Neville nodded. "Good plan."

Unfortunately, it wasn't that simple. Charms was easy enough, but, oddly, when I got to Quidditch practice, Harry didn't show.

"Where the hell could he be?" I wondered aloud as I glanced around the changing tent. "It's our second-to-last practice before the match — "

"He didn't tell you?" Dean asked, looking confused.

I froze. "Tell me what?"

"Oh dear Merlin." Ginny sighed. "He didn't even — Lucy, Snape gave him detention every Saturday for the rest of term. Snape intentionally gave him detention during the match. Harry's not playing. He said he'd let you figure out what you wanted to do with the team."

Dennis nodded. "I'm okay with Seeker, really! The Ravenclaws aren't as scary as the Slytherins!"

"Harry didn't..." I blinked. Quidditch. Harry loved Quidditch. Harry loved Quidditch more than just about anything else in the world. Harry had said once that he'd love to be Just Harry, Quidditch Player. Harry needed Quidditch. Harry had already lost Quidditch once, because of Umbridge. That was unfair enough. He didn't deserve to lose Quidditch again. "Snape did what? That's — he can't do that! It's bullshit!"

"Yeah, it's wildly unfair if you ask me," Ginny said, "but Harry said that McGonagall told him he was lucky he wasn't expelled, so the detentions were justified. So... unfortunately, Snape can do that. No point in arguing against something McGonagall agreed was fair."

I blinked again, and again. Professor McGonagall had gotten Harry his first broom. She was the reason he'd always had Quidditch, even as a first year. She was a large part of the reason he loved Quidditch so much. Why would she agree that taking it away from him was fair, after she'd made us co-captains?

I shook my head. "No. Absolutely fucking not. Harry's going to play." I turned to Dennis. "I love you and you're a brilliant Seeker and I know we brought you on as a reserve for this exact purpose, but Harry's going to play. This is bollocks, especially after how the last match went for him."

"That's okay with me," Dennis replied quickly. "I was just trying to be brave and not make you worry about the match even more than you already are. I'd rather not play in this match, especially not as a Seeker. That's a lot of pressure. I'd be much happier if Harry could play. He's co-captain after all. It doesn't make sense for me to play and not him."

"Thank you for understanding," I said. I sighed, massaging my forehead for a moment. "Alright. Alright, well, this is awful, but I don't want to waste practice time by running up to the castle to get Harry. We're going to practice, and then after practice, I'm going to go raise hell until someone caves and lets Harry play on Saturday." I clenched my jaw and tossed my broom over my shoulder. The whole team was looking at me with wide eyes, but they didn't look afraid. They looked relieved. Excited, almost. I smiled, hoping it looked more encouraging than furious, and flipped my bat in my hand a couple times. "Alright. Let's go have a great practice, everyone!"

Practice was fine, far from perfect but not awful. I could tell everyone was distracted, without Harry. It was partially my fault, too — I knew everyone kept stealing glances at me, trying to gauge how I was feeling, wondering if they'd get to witness my imminent detonation. Ginny in particular kept looking at me like I was a puzzle she couldn't solve, she was looking at me the same way the twins often looked at me in the first months after Cedric's death. Like there was just something about me that was broken with no clear solution, something they wanted to figure out and fix.

It wasn't until practice was over and I was about to head up to the castle that Ginny's head snapped my direction, her eyes wide.

"Oh shit," she breathed, glancing around the tent; the two of us and Dean were the only people left. "Lucy — something's been bothering me about this whole situation — I've just remembered. You know how you had to cover your scars in the joke shop over summer?"

I nodded. "Yeah, of course."

"That's, er, sort of my fault. The Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries identified you by your scars, and I told George. I thought it'd be safer for you to cover your scars, so they couldn't identify you quite so easily if they tried to hunt you down. But, that's not the point, the point is that they specifically said that the scars were caused by a spell Snape invented, his specialty. Do you think — "

"That's why he knew how to help Malfoy? Yes," I finished for her. "Wait, so do you think Snape's the Half-Blood Prince?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. Whether he's the Half-Blood Prince or not is irrelevant, though — Lucy, all of this is his fault, it's his spell."

"Bloody hell." I felt like the wind had been punched out of me. "Bloody hell, bloody hell, bloody hell, bloody hell."

"You can't mention the book," Ginny said in a low voice. "Snape definitely already knows about it, because he infiltrated Harry's mind — "

"He did what?"

She cocked her head at me. "Merlin, you and Harry didn't talk much, did you?"

"He, er, didn't do most of the talking," I replied, face burning. "I didn't really let him talk after he said it was the same spell. I was awful, Ginny."

"That's alright." She shrugged. "You were upset, with good reason. It happens. Anyway, don't mention the book. It's not important. Don't worry about what you've said to Harry right now. At any rate, you're going to fix it, aren't you?"

"Yes. Absolutely." I pulled Ginny to me in a hug, holding tight. "Thank you."

"What for?" she asked as she returned the hug.

"Caring. Being there for me. Not being bothered by my explosive emotions. Loving me anyway. And, most importantly, for handing me Snape's head on a silver platter. Oh, I'm going to shred him. Oh — " I released Ginny as the fury that had been building in my gut shot straight to my head and made the edges of my vision burn scarlet. "I'd say Merlin help the man, but I don't want any witnesses for the murder I'm about to commit."

"Need help hiding the body?" Ginny asked without a second of hesitation.

I shook my head. "Not yet, but thank you for the offer. I believe this murder will be more the 'pen is mightier than the sword' type than actual physical violence. I intend to make him cry."

"Give him hell." Ginny clapped me on the shoulder. "Make him pay, for all of it."

"Make sure you get each other back to the castle safely," I said, glancing between her and Dean. "Next time you see me, Harry will be back on the team where he belongs, and Snape may or may not be six feet under."

"Where he belongs," Dean said, with surprising fervor. "Good luck, Diggory. Ruin his life."

I smiled, a wicked and wild smile, before taking off into the night, running for all I was worth, not stopping until I reached Snape's office.

I pounded on the door. I was tempted to shout for Snape, but I doubted he would even bother approaching the door if he knew it was me. After a minute, he opened the door just a crack.

"What do you want, Diggory?" he sneered.

"I need to talk to you," I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

Snape looked me up and down through the crack in the door. "Just come from Quidditch practice, have you? If you've come to beg me to let Potter back on the team, you're wasting your time."

"I want to know why the fuck — " I shoved the door open with just a flick of my wrist and marched forward into the DADA classroom. " — you were able to make Draco Malfoy all pretty and perfect and good as new, but when I was the one dying from the spell you invented, you didn't lift a fucking finger."

"You have no idea what you're talking about, little girl," Snape growled, even as he took a couple of steps backward and fear flickered for a second in his eyes.

"Oh, I think I do," I said. "You invented that spell, don't deny it. The Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries were talking about it. They called it your specialty, even. So where the fuck were you when I was the one dying? Why do I look like this, but Draco Malfoy gets to pretend it never even happened? Does he even know it's your fault? Does his mother know? Oh, better yet, does Dumbledore know that you — "

"Silencio!"

"No!" I dodged his attempt at a Silencing Charm with another flick of my wrist, this time letting a couple scarlet sparks fly as I did so.

The sparks had the intended effect. Snape's eyes widened. "How did you do that?"

"WHERE WERE YOU?" I roared, stepping closer to him slowly, like a predator approaching its prey. "WHERE WERE YOU WHEN IT WAS MY ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD LIFELESS BODY IN THE HOSPITAL WING? DID YOU EVEN TRY TO HELP ME?"

"It wouldn't have done anything," he snarled. "The countercurse only works in the immediate aftermath — "

I stopped dead in my tracks when his words registered. "YOU DIDN'T EVEN TRY! YOU MONSTER!"

"Oh, monster?" Snape repeated, eyes lighting up maliciously. "What a fascinating word to be throwing around, werewolf."

"SHUT UP!" My Silencing Charm didn't miss, and neither did the "Expelliarmus!" I shouted when he tried to reach for his wand. "No, for once, you're going to shut up and listen." I reveled in the uncertainty in his eyes, in the surprise, the fear, even. I was in control of the situation, and he knew it, and he hated it. "You know, I've always known you were a bullying prick, ever since that first Potions lesson. I told you that you were being unfair, and I let you scare me into nearly six years of silence, but I'm done, I'm just done. What kind of monster would invent a spell like that? What kind of monster would teach it to other people, too? I'm sure you were so popular with your Death Eaters buddies when you invented a new spell, something that wasn't an Unforgivable Curse, that would cause such a horrific death for whoever you deemed worthy. Really, it's torture and murder all rolled up into one neat little package. I wonder how the other professors would feel about working with someone capable of not just using such Dark magic, but inventing it. I really do wonder if Dumbledore knows. I'm sure he's received many a complaint about you over the years — because you truly are evil for the way you treat children, your students, if absolutely nothing else — but I always thought your evil was always just a 'Woe is me, my life is miserable and it's all my fault but I can't take accountability for that so I'm going to make everyone else around me equally miserable' kind of evil. You know, the kind of evil that people can unfortunately get away with most of the time. As it turns out, though, it's so much worse! Congratulations! I already thought you were the scum of the earth, but you're even worse than I thought!"

Snape's eyes changed, and I was suddenly assaulted by a wandless and nonverbal legilimency spell, but I deflected it, laughing as I did so.

"Oh, please, you're pathetic." I tossed him his wand. "Here, if you want to say something so desperately, have at it. There's no need to invade my mind and my privacy, not that you could even if you tried anyway. My mum taught us how to occlude."

"Whatever your dead mummy taught you is no match for the skills I have," Snape said. "I don't need to read your mind anyway. I know how much the shadow of your dead brother still haunts you." Snape released an exhausted sigh. "If I had to choose a Diggory to live — "

"You would have chosen Cedric, yeah, I know, I would have chosen Cedric too," I said with an even more exhausted sigh. "I reckon most people would have chosen Cedric."

Snape smiled as if he'd struck gold. "Your dead parents included."

"Oh, absolutely," I replied. "I know that already. That much was obvious. I'm proud of you for finally catching on, though. What an accomplishment that must be for you."

"What is wrong with you?" Snape asked, genuinely disgusted and baffled. "Doesn't your own monstrosity bother you?"

"Doesn't yours?" I fired back in the same tone. "The difference between us, Snivellus — " He tried to fire a spell, presumably another Silencing Charm, at me, but I deflected it with a scarlet Shield Charm before I continued talking. " — is that my monstrosity isn't my fault. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and crossed paths with a sadistic man who passed his disease onto me. I know what I am and I'm ashamed of it, but, Merlin, I'm trying not to be ashamed of it anymore, because I don't have to be. I'm loved. The only person who thinks my condition is my fault is me. You, on the other hand, chose this life for yourself. You chose to be cruel, you chose to invent that horrific spell, you chose to hurt all of the people who might have once loved you. You choose violence and hatred at every turn and wonder why you're so despised and lonely. You're an idiot, first of all, but second of all, you're a monster of your own making. I don't feel sorry for you. I despise you. Everyone does. Even Cedric did. I think you're the only person he ever hated. Congratulations."

"Why should I care what you pathetic children think of me? I have a greater purpose here, something bigger than any of you — "

I rolled my eyes. "Oh please. I can't wait to see whatever this 'greater purpose' bullshit is, I can't wait for Voldemort to come either claim you or kill you, I'm not picky, you'll die either way. You know, I feel quite strongly that the world would be a better place if Cass and James hadn't tried to stop you at the Whomping Willow all those years ago. 'Greater purpose,' my ass." The mention of James made Snape so angry he slashed his wand at me, but I side-stepped it easily and rolled my eyes again. "You keep trying to take all of these shots at me, using my brother, using my parents, but you're the one who can't escape the ghost of James Potter." Snape slashed at me again, and I just laughed as I cast another scarlet Shield Charm, taunting him. "James Potter, James Potter, James Potter, you can't stop me from saying James Potter! You can't stop Harry from looking like James Potter, but with Lily's eyes! Lily Potter's eyes!"

I was so busy laughing that I didn't dodge Snape's spell in time, and I was suddenly flying through the air. I landed on my feet, though, and stopped laughing abruptly. Snape's wand was launched out of his hand and landed in mine.

"Oh, and now you're attacking a student! You're letting a little sixteen-year-old girl get under your skin! You're pathetic." I held both wands in my hand and marched toward him, glowering. He tried to get into my mind again, but without a wand, he failed again. "What do you intend to make Harry do in detention?"

"I'm going to make him sand down the initials his father and godfather carved into the desk," he said. "You're going to join him on Saturday morning and write that essay I promised you'd write if you ever crossed me again. Gryffindor's Quidditch team will be down both 'co-captains,' I'm afraid."

"Hm, no, I don't think so," I said. "Harry's going to have a much more reasonable detention task, and he's not going to have detention this Saturday. He can have detention another day. I'm not going to have detention at all."

"Potter has detention every Saturday until the end of term."

"No, that won't do." I pocketed the two wands and summoned scarlet sparks into my hands, tossing them back and forth and sending them flying around Snape's head. "Here's how this is going to go. You're going to write a note saying Harry's allowed to play in the match on Saturday. You're going to forget you ever tried to give me detention. I'm going to walk out that door and walk down the hallway, then I am going to throw your wand back to you. You're not going to follow me. You're not going to attack me again. You're not going to attack any other students ever again and you're going to stop assigning such cruel and unusual detentions, or else I'm going to go straight to Dumbledore, or the other Heads of Houses, or one of my connections in the Ministry, and I am going to do whatever it takes to send you to Azkaban for inventing that spell and for teaching it to a student. An underage student, at that, whose use of it could have killed another underage student."

"Like you'd have the power to do that," Snape spat. "Like anyone would listen to a little werewolf girl — "

"A little werewolf girl with the Chosen One wrapped around her little finger," I replied coolly. "Yeah. They'd listen."

Snape glared at me. "Your 'friendship' with Potter is going to be your doom. You're dooming him, too. You're going to regret crossing me."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure," I scoffed. "Merlin, if only you knew what it was like to have friends! You wouldn't underestimate the power we hold. I know they'll have my back if you ever try anything. They don't even have to be here in the castle to have my back. I may be a monster, but I'm loved. You wouldn't know what that's like. I think maybe I'd feel sorry for you if it wasn't your own damn fault. Maybe. Now write the fucking note, please and thank you."

"I don't have to listen to you," Snape sneered.

I reached for both wands and held them up. "I think it would be a good idea for you to hurry up and meet my demands. I've got far less to lose than you do, I'm holding your wand, I've got nearly everyone in this castle and in the greater wizarding world on my side, and I'm running low on patience. Write the fucking note."

After glaring at me for a long minute, Snape finally tore his eyes away and marched over to his desk, ripping a piece of parchment out of his desk and writing the note. I made a few copies of it, intentionally leaving one on his desk, and stormed out of the room. True to my word, I chucked his wand back at him once I reached the end of the hallway, and I rounded the corner with a sarcastic "NICE DOING BUSINESS WITH YOU, SNIVELLUS!" tossed over my shoulder. I stopped by Professor McGonagall's office and slipped one of the notes under her door, then slid another one under the door to Madam Hooch's office. With one copy still left in my pocket, I made my way to Gryffindor Tower, my head held high.

The common room was mostly empty, but I noticed that the whole Quidditch team was still there, along with Ron and Hermione. All of their eyes were on me when I entered. Harry was in the corner of the room by himself, head bowed low over his borrowed Potions textbook. I walked over without hesitation and lowered myself to the floor next to him.

"Hi," I said as neutrally as I could.

He blinked and looked up, his eyes equal parts hurting and hopeful. "Hi. Erm — how was practice?"

I didn't see a point in beating around the bush. "You're playing in the match on Saturday."

"No?" he replied, confused. "I'm not? I thought you'd be happy about that."

"You thought wrong." I handed him my last copy of the note I forced Snape to write. "I went and screamed at Snape until he changed the day and the punishment."

Harry stared at the parchment for a long time before glancing up at me uncertainly. "You did? Why?"

"Because I'm sorry." I swallowed hard, but it was too late. Tears had already risen to my eyes. "I know you were just trying to defend yourself. I know you didn't mean to hurt me. I'm sorry for reacting the way I did. It wasn't fair."

"I'm sorry too," he said, not bothering to hide the tears that coursed down his cheeks. "If I could go back and just take the Cruciatus Curse, I would."

I shook my head. "No. I don't wish that had happened. I'm glad you're okay. It's okay, Harry, I promise, I'm sorry."

Harry dropped the book on the floor with a loud thud as he surged forward to hug me. I hugged him back, as tight as I dared. We were okay. We were going to be okay.

Once we broke apart, we started to talk about it, in chronological order. He repeated the whole story again, beginning to end, and I let him talk. I assured him it was okay. Then he wanted to hear about my day, so I told him about what Remus said, and I told him about going to visit Draco in the Hospital Wing and how that went.

When I started talking about Snape, the other people in the common room who had been pretending not to eavesdrop — Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the rest of the Quidditch team — suddenly gathered around, and I repeated our conversation word-for-word and blow-for-blow as best I could, dancing around the werewolf comments of course since not everyone knew about that. My story earned several dropped jaws and impressed looks and shocked outbursts and indignant gasps and no small amount of pride. No one was more impressed than Harry, though, who was looking at me like I was the only person on the planet.

Everyone headed to bed one by one after my story, but I offered to stay up with Harry to help him with Potions, since he hadn't gone back to retrieve the Half-Blood Prince's book. We didn't go to the Room of Requirement or anything that night — we weren't ready for that quite yet — but we enjoyed the quiet comfort of the other's presence as we patched ourselves back up one stitch at a time.

The match on Saturday was truly one for the ages. Everyone was in rare form, but especially Katie, Harry, and me — Katie because it was her first match back, Harry because he'd nearly had Quidditch taken from him again, me because I just really wanted to stick it to Snape. When we won the match and therefore the Quidditch Cup, I wasted no time in flying directly to where Snape was sitting in the stands and flashing the rudest hand gesture I knew in his face. He wasted no time in telling me that I had earned myself a detention alongside Harry, but I truly didn't care. It was so, so, so, so, so worth it.