"..and the weather's pleasant today too. It is quite breezy. Nargles don't like it when it's breezy—"

"Miss Lovegood— the score—"

Blaise's throw had landed the Quaffle straight through the middle hoop. "Ooh. That was quite splendid. As if there were something magnetic between them."

McGonagall shook her head, changing the score herself. 230 for Slytherin. 200 for Hufflepuff.

"Magnetic, huh?" A huff fell on Ria's ear. "Wouldn't be surprised if you and your minions have messed with some of the stuff—"

"For fuck's sake, Smith—" Ria scoffed with irritation. "If a Quaffle was made of metal, wouldn't I chuck it directly at your head instead of throwing it at my own teammates?"

"Hmm.." Luna hummed with content. "It seems like Zacharius Smith has picked another fight. I wonder what Asteria will do. He's already had Ginny Weasley crash into him, last match."

Laughter erupted through the stadium. "Focus, will you?" Ria bit again. "There's no fun playing with easy opponents!"

Smith looked like he had an insult on his tongue, but it was too late. Their Seeker had already fallen behind. Maryam had already captured the snitch into her fist, and Ria had already zoomed towards the middle of the pitch to celebrate with her team as McGonagall's words fell on their ears—

"380 to 200— Slytherin wins and proceeds to the finals!"

Her team had already surrounded her, with Blaise and Theodore clinging to her like leaves on a branch until she felt almost suffocated by their adoration.

"Bloody hell, Ria— what had gotten into you? You were like a beast!" Amelia laughed, her hair pulled back in a braid for once instead of being free. "Made me almost want to stop playing and watch you aggravate the fuck out of Smith!"

Ria laughed, tipping her head back as if with some sort of relief. "Please, he's so easy!" She said loudly, not caring if he could hear her.

"Hey— Captain!" She searched for Raywood through the chaos of Slytherins on the pitch. "Celebratory party in the common room?"

"In 40 minutes!"

"You heard her!" He announced to the group, who cheered. And it made Asteria laugh again.

Guess, there was another advantage of having a tall, broad, cool seventh-year senior (with a particular talent in hexes, jinxes and curses) in your team and under your command.

People, usually those who were a pain in the arse before, follow said cool senior around like little henchmen, and end up ultimately acting like they've done nothing wrong before.

Well.. it wasn't just Raywood, obviously. Most of them had been like that since the start of the year.. since they had found out about Ria's Azrael origin.

And it was obscure.. because the rest of the Houses tended to avoid her after that.

Perhaps, Slytherin was just a bit weird.

Perhaps, that's why she fit best in Slytherin. It just saved the heartbreak she would've gone through if she were in any other House, because they would've definitely turned against her.

Can't get your heart broken if they were never with you, eh?

"Earth to Ria!" Fingers snapping in front of her eyes took her attention. "Wanna match? Flared pants and off-shoulder?"

Ria smiled at Amelia. She had been trying her best since the start of the year, so that she didn't feel too alone without Sophie. And she was unimaginably grateful for her.

"Sure."

Then as if something came over her, she looked over at the audience closest to her, scanning faces to find familiar ones. He would be sitting with his friends, obviously. But she couldn't see them anywhere near either.

She turned to look at the rest of the audience sections, but they were too far away. She couldn't possibly recognise their faces. Her mouth turned into a frown before she could help it.

Someone called her— someone from the team— telling her to hurry up and get changed since they had a party to attend. And she gave up her search, following her excited team members off the pitch instead.

Ria wished she could reminisce about times like these— when the gloom-filled Slytherin common room felt as lively and chaotic as the ideal dorm from her imagination as an eleven-year old. But the reminiscing was usually the impossible part, seeing as she didn't really have much pleasant memories there.

And no. She still wasn't used to it being underwater. The random appearances from the Giant Squid still freaked her out from time to time.

It was only this year that she had started to really go to celebratory parties instead of letting her team and her House do that on their own. And she felt kind of glad to have them all treat her like just their team Captain, instead of anyone or anything else.

It didn't matter if it wasn't permanent or genuine. She had sort of come to terms with some things being temporary in her life anyway.

But she didn't like thinking about stuff like that, not during times like these, where she was in the center of her team, being toasted to and cheered on by a crowd of other people.

At least they appreciated talent.

And then she'd take her favourite drink, a glass of red wine— not favourite, if she were to be honest, just the only form of alcohol she could tolerate. The other did not taste as good.

Actually, she couldn't give two fucks about alcohol, but she wasn't going to drink pumpkin juice while all the others were partying.

A hand reached out and grabbed hers from the crowd. "Hey— Ri, come with me."

She let Theodore drag her somewhere— noticed Willow beside and gave her a smile— before stopping behind a group of students. "Look."

A lot of girls, and a few boys, seemed to be marvelling over a grand bouquet of red roses sitting on one of the study tables. Some of them even seemed to check the note attached to it, a look of envy appearing on their faces after they found out that it wasn't meant for them.

"That's definitely for you." He said to her.

Ria shrugged, walking forward, swirling her wine as if she was some tight-lipped female lead in a romance novel. She turned the note in her finger, and the grumpy slipped out of her like sand from someone's fist.

'To my dearest Ria,

Perhaps you didn't see me there, but of course, I was watching you play.
And God, could you be any more perfect?

p.s. — who knows better than me that you like and prefer daisies?
but again.. who else would I give red roses to, if not you?'

She smiled. It definitely wasn't blush on her cheeks. It was the light reflecting off the roses. That was what she'd tell Theo, because by the look on his face, she was sure he was going to throw some taunt. But somehow, he didn't, only walked away with Willow, leaving Ria to savour her moment until she felt full.

She turned then, walking towards the couch where a visibly nervous second-year sat. She shouldn't be up, really. She was twelve. But she looked happily, yet curiously around the room.

"Hey." She said to her, sitting down.

The girl flinched at the sudden intrusion, appearing flustered when she noticed who it was. "Oh, hello!" She stood up to give her a little bow.

Ria chuckled, shaking her head. "No need for that. Sit down." She patted the place next to her, and the girl nodded complying. "So.. what's your name?"

"Joy." She answered with a bit of hesitation.

She smiled. "That's a cool name. Joy."

"Thank you!" She said with positive intonation. "I— I saw you play today! I was right behind where you were!"

She tilted her head with pleasant surprise. "Did you? Did you like how I play?"

Joy nodded enthusiastically, turning towards her as her shyness seemed to disappear. "Yes! I've been seeing you since I came last year. You're incredible!"

Ria grinning, her nose scrunching at how adorable she was. "Thank you." She leaned back on the couch. "You know.. juniors like you don't really attempt to talk to me. I assume you know why.. So it feels nice talking to you."

"Well, they just don't know you, do they?" She scoffed.

Ria shrugged, but with a chuckle. "Well, you don't know me either, Joy."

But the girl shook her head. "I don't. But my twin brother does." Ria quirked an eyebrow. "Joel Mallard?"

She nodded slowly, remembering the first-year boy who she had met in the Hogwarts Express, who had handed her the invitation from Slughorn, who had been sorted into Ravenclaw.

"You're twins?" She asked. "Aren't you in your second year?"

Joy nodded in confirmation. "Yes.. but only because Joel joined a year later. You see.. he was.. sort of ill—" she could see the discomfort on her face. "— so he had to."

"He still isn't completely healed. Gets tired easily.. and well.. because of that.. er— some older students—"

"Tried to bully him?" Ria completed, as if knowing the nature of her peers a bit too well.

It didn't matter if the person was weak, or more potent than they could ever be in their lives— it didn't matter to them. They went after anyone who was different. Misfitting, in their opinion.

Joy nodded, her excitement from before extinguished. "They'd been doing that for a while.. when I wasn't around. And this time I was.. and I tried to defend him, but couldn't.."

"And then Joel— he told them if they didn't stop, he'd tell you."

Ria was taken by surprise, but didn't show it on her face. "Tell me?"

"Yeah. And guess what?" The spark in her eyes returned. "They ran with their tails between their legs." She laughed.

"And I.. I really wanted to thank you for that!" Joy sighed. "Thank you for being his friend."

"Friend.. yeah." Ria hummed. "But just to be clear, Joy. Your brother and I have met only once."

The smile on her face disappeared, turned into what Ria could call terror. She lifted her hand to her mouth. "Did he.. Did he just.."

"Use my name to scare his bullies away?" Ria hissed through her teeth. "Maybe.."

It took Joy a moment to snap back. "Oh, Merlin's beard— I'm so sorry—" She was off her seat again, bowing in apology when Ria pulled her back with a loud chuckle.

"Oh, please— I don't mind!"

"Really?" She asked, and when Ria nodded, Joy blinked almost comically. "You're an angel."

Ria laughed at the spontaneity of her comment. "No— No! I mean it!" She shook her head. "For a moment, I thought you'd get mad.."

She shrugged, taking a sip from her glass. "If it helped him, why would I?"

Joy nodded thoughtfully. "And— if you ever do need serious help.." proposed Ria. "You can ask me directly."

She tilted her head, half with wonder. "You'd help us?"

Ria shrugged. "Why not?" And a familiar face came to her mind. She smiled faintly. "And anyway, in a House filled with pureblood brats, us Half-bloods.. we gotta stick with each other."

".. how'd you know I was a Half-blood?" asked the second-year. And a strong sense of deja vu swept at her.

I should write to Dahlia.. let her know we've finally made it to the finals.. ask her if she could come to watch the match.

"The Sorting Hat's not cruel enough to place a Muggleborn in Slytherin out of all Houses. And Mallard's hardly a pureblood surname.."

Joy nodded in realisation. "Ah.. I— er— I really appreciate everything. Thank you." She said, overcome with equal parts embarrassment as well as gratitude.

Ria nodded then, sighing as she turned back towards the bouquet that sat right behind her. She reached out, stroking the velvety petals to see if they felt real enough.. wondering if he had conjured them on his own.

The chatter in the background was comforting for her mind, overlapping with her own thoughts so deliciously, she couldn't even tell them apart herself.

She looked down at her wrist. Fourteen past three.

Just thirty minutes.

With a tip of her head, she emptied the glass and kept it on the coffee table in front. "Joy.. would you mind keeping an eye on the bouquet for me?" She asked as she left her seat.

"Huh? Bouquet? Sure.."

Ria caught the hesitation in her voice and chuckled, gently patting her head with assurance. "Oh, don't worry. It's just that some people here tend to mess up the things that make me happy." She explained. "I would hate it if something happened to those roses.."

Joy's mouth formed an 'o'. "Okay, I can do that." They exchanged a smile before Ria parted. "Have a great night!"

"Thank you!"

Ria let her feet carry her. It felt almost nostalgic.. easy.. letting her instinct drive her after so long. 

Her eyes searched for Theo and found him in a instant, with Willow and the Fawley twins. Some steps later she found Blaise, in the other corner of the room, in the midst of what seemed to be an intense argument with Amelia.

And for some reason, a sigh left her lips, seeing as neither of them had spotted her.

She walked to the stone wall— the entrance of the Slytherin common room. The dungeon corridor felt cooler than inside, the music and chatter dimmer, and Ria didn't waste even one second. She darted to the wall in front, parting the stone wall with the familiar spell of 'Dissendium'.

Yes, she remembered talking about it with Blaise and Theodore. Yes, she'd told them they'd do this together.

But she didn't want to wait anymore. Now was the right time for it.

She trudged straight forward into the dark passage, not hesitating even a bit when she heard the door close.

And just like that, there she was.. in the place she was kept for six years.

Lumos.

Strangely, she did not feel uneasy knowing that.. or passing by the phoenix mark on the stone wall that she'd seen almost three years ago, knowing the same was on her skin, hidden behind a Concealing Charm even though the world knew what she was.

All she cared about was that the place was important. To her. To Lagarde. To Azrael.

She also remembered that night clearly. When she'd come there with Sophie, Blaise and Theodore, trying to calm her curiosity by finding out what exactly was that was behind that crack in the wall.

It hadn't been curiosity. She had realised that a while ago.

It had been a call.

She couldn't figure out if the path was just long, or if something inside her had been stalling her, taking a bit longer to reach the end and find out what laid there.

But when she did, all she found there.. was a door.

Her heart raced as she stared at it. She raised her lit wand, examining the dusty surface of the wood. Cringing a little, she raised her hand and knocked on the door. The dull sound it made told her it was sturdy.

Reaching for the door knob, she gave a push. A forceful one, but it was no use. "Alohomora."

Ria tried again, but cussed out of frustration when it just didn't budge. "Come on.."

Ria recalled again.. what she'd done when she had first come here. What she had always wondered about.

Almost naturally, her hand reached her throat: for the onyx pendant around her neck that she didn't have anymore. That Carrow had stolen. And the words came to her almost instantly.

"Revelare Memoria."

And there it was, just like in her memory— the light.

Only that it didn't come from a pendant, but from below.. from the keyhole of the door. From the room that was behind said door.

Ria knew that was it.

The pendant didn't have anything to do with her being saved from the Circle of Runes; she had figured that out back when she'd found out there were different Runes for different types of magic.

But there it was.. the missing piece, right in front of her.

It was Lagarde that had given her the pendant. It had a purpose. It wasn't just decoration. It wasn't just any sort of decoy to distract Carrow.

It was what she'd need to see what was behind that door.

Almost panicking, she looked down at her wristwatch, and sighed with relief when she found out that it was only twenty-five past three.

She still had time left, but not much. So she closed her eyes, summoning the firebird. And when a warmth appeared in front of her, she looked up at the phoenix and smiled.

He glided to her shoulder, settling there and nuzzling into her hair. Ria chuckled. "You're oddly affectionate."

Fawkes squawked, and the smile left her face. She caressed him. "Is something wrong?"

He squawked again, and she really wished she understood him more. "I wish I could help you if something was wrong." She sighed. "But unfortunately, this time too, I'm the one who needs help."

There was a change in Fawkes expression that Ria could only pin as curiosity.

"I know I ask this of you often, but.. can you take me somewhere?"

The world felt blurry as Carrow made their way to the bathroom. Their head felt heavy— like it would detach from their neck and fall off somewhere, but they didn't stop.

They stood at the sink, their nose bleeding and dripping into it— but they didn't stop looking for her.

The chatter of everyone drove Carrow insane. For once, they wanted everyone to just shut the hell up so they could focus and find her and only her voice.

They found all of their voices— all of those who would be close to her, that would be thinking about her if she'd told them even a thing, if she'd disappeared from front of their eyes, every crevice of the place they could reach—

They groaned, a vein popping out of their temple. But they just could not..

They could not seem to hear Asteria's voice.

A silence prevailed as all the voices overlapped again. They took a deep breath, letting the rhythmic plink of their blood falling fill their ears, hoping they could take their mind off that overlapping.

What was it that made their heart so restless?

Not being able to know where she was? What she was doing? What chaos was going through her mind?

..if she'd found a way to shut them out of her mind?

It made Carrow physically shudder. It made their knees feel weak— made them cower and take the support of the sink in front of them.

They looked up at their reflection— dishevelled, almost whimpering, eyes shining like a dulled moon— and their body remembered the rush it felt while being chased by Asteria's Obscurus.

Carrow keeled over, waiting for the bile rising up the throat to just spill out.

It wasn't bile. It was disgust.

Disgust they felt after realising how paranoid they'd been acting. How little control they had over their fears.

But where.. where— where?

Sixteen past three.. that was when they'd heard her voice disappear from the crowd.

Almost half an hour since she had gone so far from Carrow.. that they couldn't hear her voice anymore.

If not in Hogwarts.. where the hell was Asteria Edwards?

"..so now you'll be going with Dumbledore to destroy them.. wow." Ron wondered after Harry had just completed telling him and Hermione everything about the Horcruxes.

"Yeah.. I guess." said Harry as they approached the Gryffindor table for breakfast. "I should've told you yesterday, but— eh—"

"But you were too busy following Ria around like a dog?"

Harry gave him a nasty side-eye, while Hermione just laughed, settling beside the redhead which— Harry noticed— earned her a glare from Lavender Brown.

And though she didn't noticed, Ron did. "Yeah.. try and destroy.. wow.." he continued to linger on the subject, trying to ignore the daggers being sent their way.

"Ron.." Hermione said patiently, gently grabbing his wrist and redirecting his wand from the ceiling. "You're making it snow."

"Oh yeah.." he chuckled awkwardly, looking at his shoulders. "Sorry.. looks like we've all got horrible dandruff now.."

He brushed some of the fake snow off Hermione's shoulder. Lavender burst into tears. Ron looked immensely guilty and turned his back on her, while Parvati gently held her by her shoulders and guided her to the Ravenclaw table, glaring up and down Ron as she passed by them.

"We split up," he told Harry out of the corner of his mouth. "A night ago. When she saw me coming out of the dormitory with Hermione. Obviously she couldn't see you, so she thought it had just been the two of us."

"Ah," said Harry. "Well you don't mind it's over, do you?"

"No," Ron admitted. "It was pretty bad while she was yelling, but at least I didn't have to finish it."

"Coward," said Hermione, though she looked amused. "Well, it was a bad night for romance all around. Ginny and Dean split up too."

Harry took a quick look around the table, only now noticing that Ginny hadn't been sitting there. He looked to the Ravenclaw table instinctively, to find her sitting with Luna. They'd grown pretty close.

"Well— there was an exception though."

Harry looked at them again, rolling his eyes but quite clearly loving it too. "Right, that's enough about me and Ria. Why don't you two mind your own business a little—?"

"Good morning!" A voice sang as it settled beside Harry. "What's for breakfast?"

Before Celine could get an answer though, someone sat beside her, posing another question. "Hey, Harry—" said Neville, grinning. "How's the practice going? We're close to the match against Ravenclaw, aren't we?"

He just had to ask the one thing that would take away Harry's attention from everything else.

He nodded. "Yeah— And I'm making sure we take the damn Cu—"

"Good morning."

Harry's head turned almost immediately, looking at his side, where Ria leaned down from between him and Celine. "I just wanted to— ah.. 'Mione, can I borrow the newspaper for a moment?"

She shook her head, handing her the newspaper with a smile. "Thank you!"

"Morning to you too." said Harry, his voice a note deeper from before.

She smiled down at him. "Thanks for the flowers, by the way." She said before leaning closer to him. "Almost as lovely as you." She told him, and his cheeks took on the colour too.

When she returned to her table, a mildly disappointed Celine spoke up. "You should really stop fraternising with the enemy." She muttered.

And Ron chuckled, sipping his pumpkin juice. "For once I agree."

And Harry rolled his eyes again. As if he hadn't been the one to make him realise that he had feelings for Ria.

"Katie! You're back!" All of them turned their heads, vaguely catching a glimpse of said girl between a small group of seventh-years clustered together.

Harry stared. It was indeed Katie Bell, looking completely healthy and surrounded by her jubilant friends. The three stood from their seats and walked to her.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm really well!" she said happily. "They let me out of St. Mungo's on Monday, I had a couple of days at home with Mum and Dad and then came back here this morning. Leanne was just telling me about McLaggen and the last match, Harry.."

"Yeah," said Harry, half-grinning, "well, now you're back and Ron's fit, we'll have a decent chance of thrashing Ravenclaw, which means we could still go against Slytherin.. be in the running for the Cup. Listen, Katie—"

He had to put the question to her at once; his curiosity even drove Ria temporarily from his brain. He dropped his voice as Katie's friends started gathering up their things; apparently they were late for their extra class.

"..that necklace.. can you remember who gave it to you now?"

"No," said Katie, shaking her head ruefully. "I know you're desperate to know.. And everyone's been asking me too, but I haven't got a clue.." She trailed off, looking somewhere behind him.

And Harry turned immediately, only catching a flash of platinum blonde hair before it disappeared out the Hall. He gave Katie a brief nod before turning around to follow him.

He was hard to keep up with— some rush driving him faster with every step somehow. But when Harry finally saw him step inside the boy's bathroom from the corner, he slowed down, moving cautiously. He put his ear to the door, and when he didn't hear anything, he slowly pushed it open. 

Draco Malfoy was standing with his back to the door, his hands clutching either side of the sink, his head bowed.

"Don't," crooned Moaning Myrtle's voice from one of the cubicles. "Don't.. tell me what's wrong.. I can help you.."

"No one can help me," said Malfoy. His whole body was shaking. "I can't do it.. I can't— It won't work.. and unless I do it soon.. he says he'll kill me.. he'll kill them too— kill her too.."

And Harry realised, with a shock so huge it seemed to root him to the spot, that Malfoy was crying — actually crying — tears streaming down his pale face into the grimy basin.

Malfoy gasped and gulped, then, with a great shudder, looked up into the cracked mirror and saw Harry staring at him over his shoulder. He wheeled around, drawing his wand. Instinctively, Harry pulled out his own.

Malfoy's hex missed Harry by inches, shattering the lamp on the wall beside him; Harry threw himself sideways, thought Levicorpus! and flicked his wand, but Malfoy blocked the jinx and raised his wand for another—

"No! No! Stop it!" squealed Moaning Myrtle, her voice echoing loudly around the tiled room. "Stop! STOP!"

There was a loud bang and the bin behind Harry exploded; He attempted a Leg-Locker Curse that backfired off the wall behind Malfoy's ear and smashed the cistern beneath Moaning Myrtle, who screamed loudly; water poured everywhere and Harry slipped as Malfoy, his face contorted, cried, "Cruci—"

"SECTUMSEMPRA!" bellowed Harry from the floor, waving his wand wildly.

Blood spurted from Malfoy's face and chest as though he had been slashed with an invisible sword.

He staggered backward and collapsed onto the waterlogged floor with a great splash, his wand falling from his limp right hand.

"No—" gasped Harry, hoping— praying what he had glimpsed was just a part of his imagination.

Slipping and staggering, he got to his feet and plunged toward Malfoy, heavy realisation setting that it was reality— his face was now shining scarlet, his white hands scrabbling at his blood-soaked chest.

He shook his head, shocked. "No— I didn't—"

Harry did not know what he was saying; he fell to his knees beside Malfoy, who was shaking uncontrollably in a pool of his own blood. Moaning Myrtle let out a deafening scream: "MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!"

The door banged open behind Harry and he looked up, terrified: Snape had burst into the room, his face livid.

Pushing Harry roughly aside, he knelt over Malfoy, drew his wand, and traced it over the deep wounds Harry's curse had made, muttering an incantation that sounded almost like song. The flow of blood seemed to ease; Snape wiped the residue from Malfoy's face and repeated his spell, seemingly knitting the wounds back.

Harry was still watching, horrified by what he had done, barely aware that he too was soaked in blood and water. Moaning Myrtle was still sobbing and wailing overhead.

When Snape had performed his counter-curse for the third time, he half-lifted Malfoy into a standing position. "You need the hospital wing. There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that.. Come.."

He supported Malfoy across the bathroom, turning at the door to say in a voice of cold fury, "And you, Potter.. You wait here for me."

It did not occur to Harry for a second to disobey. He stood up slowly, shaking, and looked down at the wet floor, the image of Malfoy imprinted in his eyes.

Snape stepped into the bathroom ten minutes later and closed the door behind him, sending Myrtle away before turning to Harry.

"I didn't mean it to happen," said Harry at once. His voice echoed in the cold, watery space. "I didn't know what that spell did."

But Snape ignored this. "Apparently I underestimated you, Potter," he said quietly. "Who would have thought you knew such Dark Magic? Who taught you that spell?"

"I — read about it somewhere."

"Where?"

"It was — a library book," Harry invented wildly, panic evident on his face. "I can't remember what it was call—"

"Liar," said Snape.

Harry's throat went dry. He knew what Snape was going to do and he had never been able to prevent it..

The bathroom seemed to shimmer before his eyes; he struggled to block out all thought, but try as he might, the Half-Blood Prince's copy of Advanced Potion-Making swam hazily to the forefront of his mind.

And then he was staring at Snape again, in the midst of this wrecked, soaked bathroom. He stared into Snape's black eyes, hoping against hope that he had not seen what he feared, but—

"Bring me your school bag," said Snape softly, "and all of your schoolbooks. All of them. Bring them to me here. Now!"

There was no point arguing. Harry turned at once and splashed out of the bathroom. Once in the corridor, he broke into a run toward Gryffindor Tower. Most people were walking the other way; they gaped at him, drenched in water and blood, but he answered none of the questions fired at him as he ran past.

He felt stunned; it was as though a beloved pet had turned suddenly savage; what had the Prince been thinking to copy such a spell into his book? And what would happen if Snape saw it?

Harry ran up to his room— to Ron's bed instead of his, and dug out his Potions' textbook, replacing it with the Prince's book in his school bag. He'd explain it to him later.

He sprinted off and threw himself back out of the portrait hole, and hurtled off along the seventh-floor corridor.

He skidded to a halt beside the tapestry of dancing trolls, closed his eyes, and began to walk. I need a place to hide my book.. I need a place to hide my book.. I need a place to hide my book..

Three times he walked up and down in front of the stretch of blank wall. When he opened his eyes, there it was at last: the door to the Room of Requirement.

Harry wrenched it open, flung himself inside, and slammed it shut. He gasped. Despite his haste, his panic, his fear of what awaited him back in the bathroom, he could not help but be overly awed by what he was looking at.

He was standing in a room the size of a large cathedral, whose high windows were sending shafts of light down upon what looked like a city with towering walls, built of what Harry knew must be objects hidden by generations of Hogwarts inhabitants.

There were alleyways and roads bordered by teetering piles of broken and damaged furniture, stowed away, perhaps, to hide the evidence of mishandled magic, or else hidden by castle-proud house-elves, there were thousands and thousands of books, no doubt banned or graffitied or stolen.

There was everything that could be needed hiding.. evil or treasured.. ancient or new.

Harry hurried forward into one of the many alleyways between all this hidden treasure. He turned right past an enormous stuffed troll, ran on a short way, took a left at the broken Vanishing Cabinet in which Montague had got lost the previous year, finally pausing beside a large cupboard that seemed to have had acid thrown at its blistered surface.

He opened one of the cupboard's creaking doors: It had already been used as a hiding place for something in a cage that had long since died; its skeleton had five legs. He stuffed the Half-Blood Prince's book behind the cage and slammed the door.

He paused for a moment, his heart thumping horribly, gazing around at all the clutter.. Would he be able to find this spot again amidst all this junk?

But again.. did he want to?

A minute later, Harry was out, running flat-out towards the bathroom on the floor below. And he was back in front of Snape, who held out his hand wordlessly for Harry's school bag.

Harry handed it over, panting, a searing pain in his chest, and waited.

One by one, Snape extracted Harry's books and examined them. Finally, the only book left was the Potions book, which he looked at very carefully before speaking.

"This is your copy of Advanced Potion-Making, is it, Potter?"

"Yes," said Harry, still breathing hard.

"You're quite sure of that, are you, Potter?"

"Yes," said Harry, with a touch more defiance.

"This is the copy of Advanced Potion-Making that you purchased from Flourish and Blotts?"

"Yes," said Harry firmly.

"Then why," asked Snape, "does it have the name 'Roonil Wazlib' written inside the front cover?"

Harry's heart missed a beat. "That's my nickname," he blurted.

"Your nickname," repeated Snape.

"Yeah.. that's what my friends call me," said Harry.

"I understand what a nickname is," said Snape.

The cold, black eyes were boring once more into Harry's; he tried not to look into them.

Close your mind.. Close your mind.. But he had never learned how to do it properly. 

Why had he not?

"Do you know what I think, Potter?" said Snape, very quietly. "I think that you are a liar and a cheat and that you deserve detention with me every Saturday until the end of term. What do you think, Potter?"

"I — I don't agree, sir," said Harry, still refusing to look into Snape's eyes.

"Well, we shall see how you feel after your detentions," said Snape. "Ten o'clock Saturday morning, Potter. My office."

"But sir.." said Harry, looking up desperately. "Quidditch.. the second last match of the.."

"Ten o'clock," whispered Snape, with a baring smile. "Poor Gryffindor.. I fear the Cup is far from you, this year."

And he left the bathroom without another word, leaving Harry to stare into the cracked mirror, feeling sick with himself.

The news had travelled very fast: Apparently Moaning Myrtle had taken it upon herself to pop up in every bathroom in the castle to tell the story; Malfoy had already been visited in the hospital wing by Pansy Parkinson, who had lost no time in vilifying Harry far and wide, and Snape had told the staff precisely what had happened.

Harry had already been called out of the common room to endure fifteen highly unpleasant minutes in the company of Professor McGonagall, who had told him he was lucky not to have been expelled and that she wholeheartedly supported Snape's punishment of detention every Saturday until the end of term.

And he was having a bad enough time without Hermione lecturing him; the looks on the Gryffindor team's faces when he had told them he would not be able to play on Saturday had been the worst punishment of all.

He could see it on Ginny's face— neither disappointment nor anger as he informed her that she would be playing Seeker and Dean would be taking her place as Chaser.

At least she had defended him a little against Hermione— telling her that the book essentially had a hand in saving Ron's life when he'd been poisoned.. that it had given him something to defend himself when Malfoy had an Unforgivable Curse on his tongue.

And suddenly Harry remembered.. Ria hadn't asked him about that yet.

But God forbid she did.

And God forbid she felt disappointed in him. His own guilt was killing him enough for now.

By Saturday morning, Harry would have gladly exchanged all the Felix Felicis in the world to be walking down to the Quidditch pitch with Ron, Ginny, and the others.

It was almost unbearable to turn away from the mass of students streaming out into the sunshine, all of them wearing rosettes and hats and brandishing banners and scarves, to descend the stone steps into the dungeons and walk until the distant sounds of the crowd were quite obliterated, knowing that he would not be able to hear a word of commentary or a cheer or groan.

A figure in front of him made him stop, and he looked down at the brunette, a red-gold scarf around her neck instead of her own green-silver one.

And Harry dropped his gaze, as if expecting to get an earful. "I got to know everything from Severus.." she told him.

"I assume you didn't tell him.." He said, very obviously referring to the Prince's book.

"You know I wouldn't." She gently scoffed. "What did you do to it, anyway?"

He was silent for a moment. "I've.. given it a thought." She nodded. "I won't use it anymore."

It seemed that Ria was a bit taken aback by his answer, but chose to only nod instead of saying anything.

She had been surprised when Severus had called her for a civil talk, instead of criticising her heavily instead like he frequently seemed to, now-a-days.

Her surprise had gone through the roof when he had told her whatever he had wanted to.

But perhaps.. she didn't need to tell Harry that the Prince was her godfather to get him away from the book, if he had decided so on his own.

"Hmm.. if it seems like the right choice to you." She shrugged.

"Ah, Potter," said Snape, when Harry had knocked on his door and entered the unpleasantly familiar office.

Ominously, there were many cobwebbed boxes piled on a table where Harry was clearly supposed to sit; they had an aura of tedious, hard, and pointless work about them.

"Mr. Filch has been looking for someone to clear out these old files," said Snape softly. "They are the records of other Hogwarts wrongdoers and their punishments. Where the ink has grown faint, or the cards have suffered damage from mice, we would like you to copy out the crimes and punishments afresh and, making sure that they are in alphabetical order, replace them in the boxes. You will not use magic."

"Right, Professor," said Harry, with as much contempt as he could put into the last three syllables.

"I thought you could start," said Snape, a malicious smile on his lips, "with boxes one thousand and twelve to one thousand and fifty-six. You will find some familiar names in there, which should add interest to the task. Here, you see.."

He pulled out a card from one of the topmost boxes with a flourish and read, " 'James Potter and Sirius Black. Apprehended using an illegal hex upon Bertram Aubrey. Aubrey's head is twice normal size. Double detention.' "

Snape sneered. "It must be such a comfort to think that, though one of them is gone, a record of their great achievements remains."

Harry felt the familiar boiling sensation in the pit of his stomach. Biting his tongue to prevent himself retaliating, he sat down in front of the boxes and pulled one toward him.

It was, as Harry had anticipated, useless, boring work, punctuated (as Snape had clearly planned) with the regular jolt in the stomach that meant he had just read his father or Sirius's names, usually coupled together in various petty misdeeds, occasionally accompanied by those of Remus Lupin, Isabella Diggory and Peter Pettigrew.

And while he copied out all their various offences and punishments, he wondered what was going on outside, where the match would have just started.. Ginny playing Seeker against Cho.. Dean taking her place..

And although Ria had assured him that she'd narrate the match to him in great detail, Harry glanced again and again at the large clock ticking on the wall.

It seemed to be moving half as fast as a regular clock; perhaps Snape had bewitched it to go extra slowly? He could not have been here for only half an hour.. an hour.. an hour and a half..

Harry's stomach started rumbling when the clock showed half past twelve. Snape, who had not spoken at all since setting Harry his task, finally looked up at ten past one.

"I think that will do," he said coldly. "Mark the place you have reached. You will continue at ten o'clock next Saturday."

"Yes, sir."

Harry stuffed a bent card into the box at random and hurried out of the door before Snape could change his mind, racing back up the stone steps, straining his ears to hear a sound from the pitch, but all was quiet.

..It was over, then..

He hesitated outside the crowded Great Hall, then ran up the marble staircase; whether Gryffindor had won or lost, the team usually celebrated or commiserated in their own common room.

"Quid agis?" he said tentatively to the Fat Lady, wondering what he would find inside. She gave a sigh of disappointment before swinging forward.

The common room was as dead as a desert when he entered. All the people scattered around: some sitting, some leaning against the wall and having their faces behind their hands. He thought he'd heard a sniff somewhere.

He looked at Ron first: the frown on his face, then Ginny, who seemed more silent than he'd ever seen her, sitting beside Ria on the couch.

.. we've lost, haven't we?

And then suddenly a lot of them had picked him up on their shoulders with the chorus of a loud cheer.

"You should've seen your face!" Ron laughed, and relief washed him down almost immediately. "It was four hundred and fifty to a hundred and forty!"

"For Godric's sake— You're all a bunch of morons!" He said, even though a smile was most evident on his face.

As soon as they let him down, he engulfed all his team members, especially thanking Ginny for saving his arse and catching the Snitch.

"But seriously, whose idea was this?"

And Ria raised her hand, feigning a very unconvincing look of guilt, but then shook the same hand with Harry when he walked to her. "We'll see who the winner will be, Potter."

He grinned wholeheartedly, giving her hand a tug and making her crash into his chest, closing his arms around her. "That we will."

But his smile faded immediately after, and he separated only a bit to look down at her. "Wait— but I have detention till the end of term." He said, half his happiness leaving almost instantly. "I won't be able to play.."

Ria scoffed, faking a suggestive tone. "Oh, don't worry— I'm sure someone could convince Dumbledore, Minnie, and Madam Hooch to schedule the match on a Sunday instead.."

His grin was back, and it made Ria feel proud of herself. "You'd do that for me?"

"Of course." She chirped.

He sighed happily, burying his face in the crook of her neck, feeling a bit nostalgic at the way she rubbed his back when he did.

What else could he ask for, really?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

[word count: 7055]

a/n: I shifted guysssss
I've shifted to another college for my masters

and I miss my hometown and the city before and my friends and my ex-roommates alreadyyyy :''')
(seriously why can't we be together forever)

but the campus is pretty cool and hopefully I'll find a boyfriend here lmfao

and just a warning that the posting schedule might NOT be consistent now-- just telling yall already, cuz it's been only three days and we've already been given assignments TvT

but I WILL SURVIVE
LONG AS I KNOW HOW TO LOVE, I KNOW I'LL STAY ALIVE~

sryy just a bit obsessed with that song currently

anyway that's all byeeee