𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑 || H.P

𝟔𝟔

After my headache calmed, I would go back out to the lake. Snow had formed a layer over it, and if I didn't know any better, I would've slipped on the ice.

Harper was first. I drew her little braids from when I last saw her, and made sure to get her eyes in the shape of crescent moons. Not saucers. She had her curly hair, and the more I thought about it, when she smiled, she had dimples. I like to think I got better at drawing faces, even if hers was covered in tears.

When my mind was as clear as it was, past thoughts would appear. I never had a break. The locket that was shoved down my bag was now etched onto my paper in black ink. It was like a domino effect, because afterwards, I would think about Latin. And to train my thought away from that, I thought about Harry.

Did he know about the murders? There were new ones every week. I never read at the post anymore, but they came more frequently. The headlines were the farthest I could get before breaking down.

I love him.

And as the days passed, it felt more real. There were many things foggy about Christmas night, but this was the clearest of them all. I wanted to dislike how much he didn't trust me, but it's easy to forget about that when everyone has told me otherwise. I stared at the leather cover of the sketchbook given to me a year ago, and all hatred was flushed away.

It was easier to sketch now, knowing there were people I could go to for support. Often times, I would bring them with me. Daphne would sit behind me by the tree and Astoria would try to skate on the lake with regular boots. Regardless of that, I've noticed she has become a mature and sophisticated young woman. In a year, she composed herself in a way I'd never seen. Mini Greengrass was getting married, and perhaps that was the reason behind it. She didn't seem very hopeful, almost like she's trying to savor all the childhood left inside her. But, she doesn't have a choice.

Whenever I'd ask, her answer would always be the same. "Sure, maybe it's too early. How much time do we really have left, anyway?" And that was that.

Soon enough, winter holiday was over. With every passing minute, I'd ready myself to go and meet Harper there. Like I promised.

However, some promises were difficult to keep. I didn't even look in the direction of the train stop that morning, instead focusing on holding in my tears.

Everyone was quiet. It was like the entire Slytherin house had been straightened into a line that I have long passed. Blaise didn't speak a single word, Theo never cracked a smile, and whenever the Carrows would threaten to torture young children, they didn't even laugh. It made me feel like staying at Hogwarts was the right decision. Who knows what treacherous things they witnessed?

Defense Against the Dark Arts was eerily silent. It was nearly the end of class when Dean whispered, "why do they all look so glum?"

"I don't wanna know," I responded. My knee was bouncing rapidly until the school bell rang. I hadn't written down any notes. It didn't matter anymore.

"What's your next class?" Dean asked.

"Potions. What's yours?"

"Alchemy... good luck with old Sluggy, heard he's gone as dim as the rest of 'em."

I gave him a weak smile and turned towards the Potions room. I didn't care much about my marks anymore, but they Potion's one had to stay up if I had any hope for the future.

I took my seat next to Daphne. It was nice to have this back. "The last time I spoke to Slughorn, he screamed at me."

"Do you need tutoring again?" She smiled.

"Funny. No, I think he knows something about Harry. He gets all mad whenever I ask."

"Why would you ask him?"

I shook my head. "Doesn't matter. But, he's definitely a part of some plan."

"Well, Slughorn's a wuss. I wouldn't waste my time with him."

But I had to. There was no one else who would understand other than Dumbledore himself.

So, after class, I went to his desk once again. He lost a lot of color over break and was expressionless when I walked up. "Excuse me, Sir?"

He blinked slowly. "Yes, Miss Shallow?"

"I would like to speak with you about the note you left me."

He shook his head. "Note?"

"From last semester..."

"Ah. Yes, I do apologize for my outburst." He cleared his throat. "Some may say I was a bit too rash."

"It's alright, Professor. I was just wondering if I could get a pass to the restricted section."

"The restricted section? Whatever for?"

"I need a book about Latin."

The professor sat up in his chair and nodded. "I understand." He grabbed a plain slip. "However, may I offer you a suggestion?"

"Of course."

"A lot of time has been spent trying to protect ourselves from harm. Now, even with the skills, some may not have the correct tools." He finished the signature.

What does that mean?

"We can protect ourselves, but who will protect the ones who fight for us?"

Harry.

"Have a good evening, Miss Shallow." He handed me the slip.