human again / hp.

Chapter 82

The crisp autumn air of Hogsmeade whipped around me as I walked, biting at my skin. Each step felt like it dragged me deeper into the storm of uncertainty swirling in my mind. My heart was heavy, weighed down by Harry's words from the library—his confession of wanting something more between us. I had no answer for him, no resolution to offer, and the silence of the walk from Hogwarts to the Hog's Head did nothing to ease the chaos in my chest. The possibility of what he had suggested hovered in the back of my mind, but I couldn't figure out what I wanted—or even if I wanted anything at all.

When the Hog's Head finally came into view, I paused in front of the weathered door. The dim light spilling out from the pub's cracked windows looked almost welcoming, but I knew better. A deep breath in, a slow exhale, and then I pushed the door open. The smell of stale ale and the murmur of voices hit me immediately, a blend of faint laughter and hushed conversation that felt miles away from my current state of mind.

Inside, the pub was dimly lit, the few candles on the tables barely keeping the shadows at bay. The windows were covered in grime, streaked with the remnants of years of neglect. The familiar buzz of chatter filled the air, but it faltered when I stepped inside, all eyes shifting to me. A group of students sat huddled together at a table in the corner, their faces a mixture of familiar and unfamiliar. The usual suspects—Harry, Hermione, and Ron—were there, but so were Ginny, Neville, Luna, and a few others I didn't recognize.

The instant I entered, the whispers started. A few heads turned, and the low murmur of gossip quickly began to build.

"Isn't that Draco Malfoy's sister?"
"Why's she here?"
"She's probably just here to get the dirt on all of us"

I tightened my grip on the strap of my bag and walked forward, determined not to show how much their whispers stung. My family name was a heavy weight on my shoulders, one I could never shake off, but I wasn't here because of that. I was here because I had made a choice—despite the fear, despite the uncertainty. This was my first step toward making my own path.

As I reached the table, Hermione stood up, her expression a mix of resolve and concern. "Alright, that's enough," she said sharply, her voice cutting through the whispers. "We're all here for the same reason, so let's focus on that, shall we?"

The noise died down almost instantly, and I slid into an empty chair near the edge of the group. Harry gave me a small, encouraging smile, but I couldn't bring myself to return it. My thoughts were still too tangled, my emotions still too raw.

Hermione cleared her throat and took center stage, her posture commanding attention. "Thank you all for coming. As you know, we're here because we're not getting the education we need in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Umbridge's methods are inadequate, and she's not preparing us for what's really out there."

A few students nodded in agreement, exchanging looks of frustration, and Hermione pressed on. "We need practical knowledge. We need to know how to defend ourselves properly. That's why we're forming this group."

The room hummed with quiet nods and murmurs of agreement. I couldn't help but feel the pull of their unity, the weight of this collective desire to take control of their future. Hermione continued, laying out their plan for weekly meetings, the importance of secrecy, and the need for a safe place to practice.

I sat in silence, my hands folded tightly in my lap. The discussions swirled around me, but I felt as though I were standing on the outside looking in. I wanted to be a part of it, but the weight of my last name kept me tethered to a place of caution. Every so often, I felt a stray glance or heard a whispered comment about my presence, but I pushed them aside. I couldn't let that distract me now.

Eventually, the conversation shifted to logistics. "Where are we going to meet?" Neville asked, his brow furrowed in thought.

"That's the tricky part," Hermione admitted, looking slightly frustrated. "It has to be somewhere private. Somewhere no one can find us."

A flurry of suggestions followed: the library after hours, abandoned classrooms, even the Forbidden Forest, but each idea was quickly dismissed as too risky.

"That won't work," Ron said, his tone serious. "We'd be caught in a heartbeat."

"What about the Astronomy Tower?" someone suggested.

"Too exposed," Ginny replied with a shake of her head.

The ideas seemed to dry up, and the group fell into an uncomfortable silence. As I sat there, an idea popped into my mind before I could stop myself. I hadn't planned to speak up, but the words slipped out before I could hold them back.

"I know a place," I said quietly, my voice tentative but clear.

All eyes turned to me instantly. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for me to continue.

"It's called the Room of Requirement," I explained, my words coming more easily now that I had started. "I found it in my second year. It's a hidden room that only appears when you need it. It can transform into whatever you need."

Hermione's eyes widened with excitement. "That's perfect! How do we find it?"

I nodded, relieved that they were responding positively. "It's on the seventh floor, opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. You just walk past it three times, thinking about what you need, and it appears."

The group buzzed with excitement, the air thick with the energy of possibility. But just as quickly, the mood shifted. A sharp voice broke through the chatter.

"Can we even trust her?"

I turned to see Zacharias Smith, a Hufflepuff student, eyeing me suspiciously, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "She's a Malfoy," he continued, his voice dripping with skepticism. "How do we know she's not going to run straight to Umbridge? Or worse, her father?"

The tension in the room thickened immediately. All eyes turned on me, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. My pulse quickened, my throat tight with emotion. For a moment, I couldn't find my voice.

But Harry stood up abruptly, his eyes flashing with determination. "I trust her," he said firmly, his tone unwavering. "And that's all that matters."

Zacharias scoffed, clearly unimpressed. "That's not enough. She's—"

"Enough!" Hermione's voice cut through the tension with surprising force. "If Celeste wanted to betray us, she could have done it already. The fact that she's here, sharing this with us, should be proof enough of where her loyalties lie."

Zacharias muttered something under his breath, but he didn't argue further. The silence that followed was thick, but it was broken by Harry giving me a reassuring glance. His eyes softened as they met mine, and I gave him a small, quiet nod of gratitude.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to steady my nerves. "Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Hermione clapped her hands together, shaking off the tension. "Alright then, it's settled. We'll meet in the Room of Requirement. Our first session will be next week. Please write your names on this parchment."

As the group began to write their names down, students filing out of the pub in small clusters, Harry remained behind. I gathered my things slowly, hesitant to leave, knowing that there was still something left unsaid.

He lingered for a moment before speaking, his voice low and quiet. "You okay?" he asked, his eyes searching mine.

I nodded, though I could feel the tightness in my chest, the weight of everything pressing on me. "Yeah. Thanks for standing up for me."

He smiled faintly, though there was still something unreadable in his expression. "Always."

As he turned to follow the others, I couldn't help but wonder what was still hanging between us—what unspoken thoughts and feelings were left in the silence. But for now, I had made my first step forward. I had joined this group, despite the doubts and fears. And that, at least, was something I could hold on to.