I looked at him. I looked at the intensity of his eyes upon my face, as he run his fingers on my cheek. I didn’t feel frightened by his touch as I felt by other people’s.  I opened my mouth to say something, but then I looked down again. It was easier to look down rather than at him. I couldn’t even look at people any more.

I reached for the rather rusty door knob and it felt hard against my skin. I thought the door would be blocked, but to my surprise it opened to reveal what seemed to be an old book cupboard. I held the candle higher up to see it more clearly, but to my surprise there was absolutely nothing in it (except for huge spider webs), or so I thought until I looked in the far corner of the room where a portrait lay, covered by an old black cloth.

“THAT’S WHAT YOU WNAT! DOES SHE KNOW? DOES SHE MISS ME, SNAPE? I WILL NOT GET BACK...YOU’D HAVE TO KILL ME FIRST! TO HELL WITH THIS LIFE! It’s not fair.” screamed Edwin, making me move away from the door a few steps, for his voice was so horse it made the wood vibrate. That last sentence he said empathised the sadness I too, felt for a long time.

You cannot imagine what I felt then. I half expected him to look up at me and shout at me. But the image in the painting was frozen, just like before. I had done this to him. It was my fault that his hands were covered in blood....my fault that he was suffering. I felt my eyes stinging with tears that fell down my cheeks as I looked at Edwin frozen.

Dad went to his study without saying a word and I went up to my room. I think I stared out of the window for hours...looking at the sky and wondering why God did this to my brother. Wondering why he had to be affected by the only thing for which there was no cure. I wondered and wondered and then I broke down.

On the seat opposite me in the compartment lay open the Daily Prophet with a picture of Ron and Hermione at the beginning of their 7th year as prefects covering most of the page. Hermione was smiling broadly, trying to make the presence of her prefect badge as obvious as possible on her immaculate Gryffindor uniform, while Ron was staying somehow grumpily next to her, as if he hated the fact that Colin was standing in front of him with a gigantic camera.

It was a very unexpected event when his lips crushed mine in a passionate kiss, but what was even more unexpected, was the fact that I responded to the kiss in the same passionate way: my hands were running through his hair, while his arms were pulling me closer to him. Suddenly the night seemed less cold. I took my hands out of his hair and placed them on his chest, before pushing myself away from him, as Harry’s face penetrated my head.

A moan followed and presumed Draco got hit, but then a green light flashed and Edwin flew against a wall, blood blossoming from his nose and mouth. I tried to run towards him, but Edwin shock his head no and stood up again, my wand pointed towards Draco.

“Professor Snape put the spell on you.” Said Dumbledore, watching my reaction carefully.

“WHAT? OH MERLIN! Is it his baby? Did I....?”

“No, Miss Rider. It is not Professor Snape’s baby. It’s his son’s.” Said Dumbledore, while his smile appeared again. I wondered why he found this amusing. It was far from amusing. It was terribly distressing that for one moment I actually though it was Snape’s baby.

The wand from under the bed trembled slightly, and then flew out from under the bed into Lucius’ firm grip as I felt my heart gaining its normal pace. But then I felt something I had never felt before, like some butterfly wings spreading in my belly, followed by a small kick. I let out a small gasp which made Lucius and Bellatrix stop talking.

He lifted the Cruciatus curse off my body. My muscles were tensed. My head filled with that feeling of disbelief you hate so much. I had never expected Ron to use an unforgivable curse on me. Never. I didn’t look at him anymore. My eyes were cast on the grass that was painted red with the blood coming out of my mouth.

“Its okay, Edwin.” I whispered more to myself than to him as I too, disappeared in the darkness of my room.  “It’s okay.”