The Hollow Beneath Hogwarts

15. Dry Your Eyes

Sloane walked blindly for several minutes.

She honestly had no idea where she was going at first. All she knew was that she needed to get away. Away from the shop. Away from the staring customers. Away from the crushing humiliation sitting like broken glass in her chest.

Her breathing felt uneven as she pushed through the crowded streets of Diagon Alley, the noise around her blending into one overwhelming blur. Laughter echoed somewhere nearby. Children darted past clutching sweets and joke products. Shopkeepers called advertisements from doorways.

Normal life continued around her completely untouched.

Meanwhile Sloane felt like someone had split her open in the middle of a crowded shop and left all her grief exposed for strangers to stare at.

She should have expected it.

Honestly.

Part of her had known from the beginning that trying to become friends with people already carrying years of history together was risky. They had survived a war together. Lost people together. Loved each other for years before she ever appeared.

And she? She was just some girl who arrived afterwards trying desperately to find somewhere she belonged.

Ron's words replayed viciously in her head no matter how hard she tried to block them out.
You'll never be one of us.
Your parents are probably glad to be dead.

Sloane physically flinched. The worst part was that Ron regretted it immediately. She had felt it. The horror. The guilt. The second the words left his mouth. But somehow that almost made it hurt more. Because he hadn't meant to say them aloud perhaps... But the thoughts had existed somewhere inside him already.

Sloane's chest tightened painfully. For one terrible moment she genuinely considered going home.

Back to the little cabin in Kingsley's garden where things were quiet and safe and nobody looked at her like she was an intruder forcing herself into spaces she didn't belong.

But she couldn't. Not yet. She still needed books. Potion ingredients. School supplies. Her entire final year at Hogwarts still waited ahead of her whether she emotionally survived today or not.

Still...

Before she could face any of that again, she needed somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe. Somewhere comforting. And without even consciously deciding, her feet carried her exactly where they always did whenever the world became too heavy.

The bookshop. The second Sloane stepped inside, the chaos of Diagon Alley faded instantly behind her. The little bell above the door chimed softly.

Warmth wrapped around her immediately.

The shop was small and slightly cramped with crooked wooden shelves stretching floor to ceiling in every direction. Dust motes floated lazily through golden sunlight spilling in from the windows while the faint scent of parchment, leather bindings and old paper filled the air.

Sloane closed her eyes briefly. And breathed.

Books. Merlin, she loved books.

There was something comforting about them in a way nothing else quite managed to be. Books had always been her safest place growing up. Whenever life became difficult or overwhelming or lonely, she disappeared into stories.

Stories never abandoned you. Stories never died. Stories stayed. The smell alone immediately loosened some of the tightness in her chest.

"Can I help you, dear?"