"Buried, almost tangible secrets filled the space between them, and so, without a second to think, she closed it."
The scars of war opened more wounds than Harry Potter thought possible. As he returns to Hogwarts for his eighth and final year, he le...
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"You guys heading to Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Annabelle asked, swinging her bag over her shoulder and standing up from the table.
Harry and Ron glanced at each other. They weren't used to another person within their ranks, but Hermione already swooped ahead to link arms with Annabelle, who smiled at Harry before powering ahead.
"Never met this girl once," Ron grumbled as he and Harry followed the girls begrudgingly, "and now here Annabelle is in all our classes and best mates with Hermione —"
"It's a nice change of pace," said Harry, but Ron didn't hear.
"Next thing I know, my girlfriend's paying more attention to a girl we've never even met than me! When did they get so close all of a sudden?"
Harry stopped to turn to Ron. "You're jealous that Hermione's got a friend who isn't us?"
Ron opened his mouth and subsequently shut it, picking up his pace and looking much angrier than he was before. Harry sighed, trailing behind. Just when Harry thought he had finished, Ron whipped around to face Harry. "And one more thing —"
"Oh, come off it, Ron."
"— She's a seventh-year! How is she in any of our classes to begin with?"
Harry hadn't considered this. How was she in their classes? Annabelle wasn't a Ravenclaw, so she wasn't exceptionally smart, how was she a year ahead?
"Exactly!" exclaimed Ron, noticing Harry's confused face as he resumed his walking. "I mean, think about it, she's in Potions with us and now our Defense Against the Dark Arts class."
"Potions makes sense. It's a N.E.W.T. class, seventh-years take those all the time."
Ron ignored this. "I should run this by Hermione. She's usually the one who gets suspicious of things first. What if Annabelle used a Confundus Charm —"
"Okay, now you really need to come off it," said Harry as they approached the classroom door.
Annabelle and Hermione were already inside, but upon opening the door, Harry heard a yelp and a stream of unsavory curses, and saw Annabelle standing behind the door, arms crossed with a deep scowl.
"Sorry," he murmured as he took a step deeper into the room, but Annabelle had already hustled away to rejoin Hermione at a table very far from where Harry stood.
He turned to Ron, shrugging, but he wasn't paying attention to Harry. Instead, Ron's eyes trailed an ecstatically laughing Annabelle with mounting suspicion.
"Now they're at a table together," grumbled Ron. "What, Hermione couldn't be bothered to sit with us?"
"Yeah, it's not like she's sat at the same table as us for eight years," said Harry shortly.
