So, a new HP!Brittana story, this time based during Deathly Hallows. A few things to note about this:

1. Angst beware. If you don't like angst, don't read this.

2. I've taken liberties with life at Hogwarts during Deathly Hallows since there's not a whole lot of detail - for example reintroducing the Inquisitorial Squad.

3. If you've read my other story Bumpy Ride, know that this is in a completely different universe and is in no way connected.

4. I've experimented here, with 1st person present tense. It's not how I write normally and it's come out in quite a different style - I'm not sure if I like it or not yet, but I find it's useful to try different things like this to improve my writing in general. Hopefully it turned out okay.

The New Hogwarts

August 1997

"Santana!"

My shout echoes down the hallway but no response comes, so I just wander further into her house, humming a little tune. It seems like no one is here, but I know that's not right. Santana said she would be home. I peer into the kitchen as I pass it – and my feet stop without me telling them to. I can feel my heart pounding hard and fast as I stare into dark eyes, set deep into a mutilated face. Somewhere beneath the fear that has me trapped where I stand, I realise I know the man.

"Hernando!" he snarls, revealing ugly, pointed teeth but never looking away from me. It's like he's frozen me with his eyes. The spell breaks when another tall figure appears, stepping between me and the man.

"Brittany, what do you want?" Mr Lopez snaps, stepping out of the kitchen and pulling the door shut behind him.

"I… uh…" It's so hard to find words. Just last week I'd seen that scarred face on dozens of wanted posters dotted around Diagon Alley. "Th-that… that's… Greyback," I mumble. Except… I probably shouldn't have said that. Santana's dad had tried to hide him by closing the door. But why was a werewolf in their house? "W-why…"

His wand is pointing at me and I fumble for my own, but he's already speaking.

"Obliviate."

A strange whiteness fades, and I find myself standing in front of Santana's dad in their house. There's sweat on the back of my neck, and I'm not sure why. Did I run here? I try to remember, but everything is too blurry.

"Mr Lopez, I… I think I was looking for Santana?"

That had to be it. Why else would I be here?

"Of course, Brittany. The last I saw her she was in the cellar."

I nod and thank him, letting my feet turn and walk away. When I reach for the door leading down to the cellar, I notice my wand in my hand. That's weird. Why is my wand out? I tuck it safely away before descending the steps, wrinkling my nose as I do. Something down here stinks, like it's rotting. I can hear Santana muttering charms further away, but I can't hear what.

"Santana?"

"Wha- Brittany?"

"Yeah it's me," I call back, squinting in the darkness to try and find her. I should have left the door open. "Why's it so dark in here?"

"It's- uh, wait there! Don't move!"

"Why?" I shout back, taking a few steps forward anyway until my foot hits something soft and kind of heavy. I peer down, but it's too dark to see. I crouch instead, reaching out with my hand for the object. My fingers brush fur, but it's kind of sticky. The smell's got worse.

"Brittany!"

Something barrels into me and I hit the ground with a thud, panicking until I recognise the feel of Santana's body on top of me.

"Santana, don't do that! You scared me!"

"I'm sorry. Come on, let's get out of here."

"There was something on the floor, it felt like an animal," I tell her, trying to squint again to find it. It's impossible, it's pitch black. "What's wrong with the lights?" I ask again. She's holding onto my arm and tugging me towards the steps, then up them. I stumble a couple of times. How can she see where to go? So many weird things seem to be going on today, and Santana is being just as strange. "Santana, what's the matter?"

"It's nothing. I was just doing target practice."

"In the dark?"

"Yeah, I was listening to… to the targets."

She opens the door and light floods into the cellar, but she pulls me out before I can look back and the door clicks shut behind us. Her hand curls around mine properly as she grins at me, and I have to smile back as I take in her beautiful tanned face with dark hair curled just the way I like it.

"Sorry about that. You know how papá goes on about making my magic as good as it can be. Are you staying the night?" she asks as we walk up the stairs together. I'm still trying to work out what had happened in the cellar, but the new topic cheers me up as I recall persuading my mum with flowers earlier.

"Yeah! I have to be back at nine tomorrow though."

"Great. My parents are going out in a bit with some friends, so we'll have the house all to ourselves."

She whispers the last line in my ear as she pulls me through the door to her bedroom, and it sends a tingle through my body. I push the door shut behind me and pull her into a kiss, but then I hear Santana's mum's voice echoing up the stairs and I have to pull away to listen.

"We're off now, Santana! Don't stay up too late!"

We listen together to the sound of footsteps and the door slamming, and then the house is silent. I turn my eyes back to Santana and find her already watching me.

"Waiting for permission?" she teases, leaning in to nip at my neck. She continues kissing there and my eyes start to flutter shut – but then they snap fully open when I notice something on the side of Santana's face. It's red. It's the kind of red that my little sister always gets on her knees when she trips over.

"S-Santana, you're bleeding…"

She pulls back, looking at me quizzically, and I point to her neck. Again, something strange. What's going on? She reaches up to rub at the spot, and… it all wipes away. There's nothing underneath, nothing that could have made her bleed. She shrugs, stepping close again.

"Don't worry about it, Britt," she murmurs, tugging me towards the bed.

But I can't help but worry. When she starts pulling my dress over my head, I'm trying to work out where the blood came from. When she's planting kisses over my stomach, I'm thinking of the strange conversation with Santana's dad and how I don't remember anything after knocking on the door. Even when I'm grinding against her thigh with my fingers buried deep inside her, I wonder what that thing was on the cellar floor.

She's snoring, and I'm still worrying. I roll over, out of her light hold, to sit on the edge of the bed. Something just feels off. It's like I've got a lump in my throat that's making me feel sick, but I know I'm not going to be. Or like there's something trapped in my stomach trying to get out. The smell from the cellar keeps coming back to me. I stand and walk over to the bathroom attached to Santana's bedroom, hitting the light switch and walking straight to the sink. I turn on the tap and lean down to drink – and I see the redness again. But this time it's on me.

My legs feel shaky as I straighten, lifting my hand to examine the smudge of blood on my fingers. It clicks in my head – this is the hand I used to touch the sticky fur of whatever had been on the floor of the cellar earlier. I stand there, my mind buzzing. It's so stuffy in here – I can't breathe. I make a decision and turn, walking back into Santana's room and gathering up my clothes from the floor, quickly getting dressed and picking up my wand from where it lies next to Santana's on her desk. I check on her one last time, but she's breathing heavily. I leave the room.

I don't know if her parents are back yet – I haven't heard them, but they might have just been quiet, so I try and stay quiet as well. I creep down the stairs, clutching my wand tightly as I make my way to the cellar door.

"Lumos," I whisper the moment it's open. The stairs creak under my feet, but hopefully not enough to wake anyone. When I reach the bottom I pause, but I can't hear anyone else moving about so I just step forward and point my wand in the direction of the thing I'd walked into.

There's definitely fur. Ginger fur. Is it a fox? Is it hurt? I move closer, but slowly so I won't scare it, and drop to my knees. The fur turns shiny when my wand gets near – too shiny. It shouldn't be that shiny. Or that red.

I wonder distantly if I'm actually going to be sick this time. I squeeze my eyes shut as the smell takes on new meaning – and then I remember the blood on Santana's neck, and her mention of "target practice", and I bend over, bile rising in my throat. No. No. Santana wouldn't do this!

I stumble to my feet, lifting my wand and swinging it around me. Bloody balls of fur, everywhere I look. It's not all foxes though. There's hedgehogs. Lots of rabbits. I'm shaking so hard the light from my wand is flickering. I try to walk backwards, but my foot just hits another animal. My wand slips from my fingers, and when it hits the floor the light goes out, leaving me in darkness. I fall to the floor, fumbling for it, but wherever I touch there's more fur and stickiness and dead weights and I don't want to keep reaching but I have to get out of here – my fingers scrabble and finally the stick of wood rolls under my fingertips.

"Lumos!" I gasp, regretting it instantly when the spell just lights up the blood-stained floor and the surrounding animals. I stagger to my feet and spin, jumping up the stairs two at a time. I don't worry about anyone hearing this time – I barely remember to shut the door to the cellar behind me before running up to Santana's room. Once inside I walk straight to the bathroom, clicking it shut and locking it. My back slides down the polished wood as I slump to the floor, wand clattering out of my hand onto the tiles.

"It's nothing. I was just doing target practice."

Tears start to fall, and for just a moment I'm grateful that Santana's a deep sleeper.

September 1997

Hogwarts is different now. There's too many people missing. Sam, Matt, Justin, Mercedes, Rory… I can't list all of them without forgetting someone, and that makes me feel bad so I stop trying. And the people who are here don't smile as much. Everyone's scared. Like Santana, really, except she's pretending she's not. But I can see it. Every time she looks at her Inquisitorial Squad badge; every time she gets a letter from home; every time she has to go supervise detention. I'm scared for her more than I am for myself.

I used to like school. I wasn't very good at some subjects, but most of the teachers were nice, and Santana used to help me practice my spells. Defence Against the Dark Arts wasn't very fun last year with Professor Snape teaching it – but now it's way worse. Professor Carrow is in charge. And he's not even pretending to teach defensive stuff. For the first few classes it's fine because it's just him talking. He seems to like listening to himself talk. Or at least, he hates it when anyone interrupts him.

But now I'm standing in the middle of the classroom with all the desks moved to the side, and he's not just talking at us. He's pairing us up. Santana moves before I can turn to her, and she's paired with Neville. I'm told to stand next to Tina instead. I try to ask Santana with my eyes why she left me, but she won't look at me. She's staring determinedly at Professor Carrow. She's ignoring me on purpose, and it hurts.

"-the best curse you know. I will be circulating. Don't think you can fake anything and get away with it," Professor Carrow hisses.

For a moment there's silence in the room. I'm trying to work out if I heard him right, and I think other people are wondering whether they should do as they're told or not. Professor Carrow's scowl deepens and he opens his mouth to speak again – but before he can, a flurry of spells suddenly cross the room.

"Conjuncto!"

"Aurisesco!"

"Flagrato!"

"Protego!"

Jacob and Sugar fall to floor, Jacob moaning as he claws at his suddenly shrivelled ears and Sugar scrubbing furiously at her eyes. I swivel to make sure that Santana is okay, and find her wand pointing straight at Neville. His wand is up too, and between them something shimmers in the air, like a heat wave. Professor Carrow hovers nearby, watching with interest. Santana shifts, then jerks her wand forward sharply. Neville's shield shatters and the curse pushes him back onto the floor to join Jacob and Sugar, burns blistering all over his body.

"Excellent work, Lopez! You too, Crabbe and Bulstrode. 30 points to Slytherin. Now why are the rest of you just standing there?" he demands, spinning to glare at the rest of the room.

My eyes meet Tina's. She looks as scared as I feel. He can't actually want us to do real curses. I'm sure what Santana just did wasn't a real curse – it just looks bad. Should I try and do that? But I don't even want to pretend to hurt Tina. Tina's nice. I like Tina.

"No, it's not righ-"

The voice from across the room turns into a yelp and I spin about to see Kurt curling up on the floor, whimpering. Professor Carrow stands above him, wand pointing down. He raises it then swivels on one foot, aiming every so often at a student staring at him.

"Does anyone else disagree?" he whispers, his voice barely loud enough to hear over Kurt's moans. His wand pauses for a moment, pointing straight at me, and my breath gets stuck in my throat – but then it moves on to someone else. "I want to see what you're made of. And you do not want to see what I am made of," he warns softly. Sparks fly from the end of his wand, and someone whispers a jelly-legs jinx. Their partner topples to the ground at the same time as others copy with the same, or body bind curses – but it still isn't satisfying Professor Carrow.

"First Years can do better than that! Pierce, Cohen-Chang – get on with it! Do you want me to show you what a real curse is?"

I spin to face Tina, lifting my wand – but she's shaking, and I still don't want to curse her, even if it's just jelly-legs. Why should I do that? Just because Professor Carrow says so?

Tina cries out and drops to the floor, shaking even more than she was before as boils break out over her skin, like the ones on Neville. I drop to my knees in front of her and reach out to try and help, but she shuffles away and won't even look at me.

"Good work, Pierce. 10 points to Hufflepuff," Professor Carrow says from above. I look up quickly to tell him it wasn't me, but Santana is behind him, and she's shaking her head. I look again at Neville, then Tina. It's exactly the same curse. Did… did Santana do this? Is it the same as what she did on Neville, that doesn't really hurt? It sounds like it hurts, though. Neville's standing again, and coming over to help Tina up. He glares down at me, and I shake my head to try and tell him it wasn't me – but then I stop. There are tears on his cheeks, and they make my stomach churn. Is he really hurt? Is Tina? Had… had Santana hurt them?

I confront her as soon as we're out of the classroom, tugging her sleeve to pull her away from everyone else. They're all quiet except for the ones who are crying, and I don't want them to hear this.

"Was it you?"

She rolls her eyes. "Of course."

"But… I mean…" I don't know how to phrase it without accusing her. Won't she be upset if I accuse her? But at least then she'd tell the truth, right? "Did you hurt them? It looked like you hurt them."

"Oh c'mon Britt, don't worry about it, they're fine. It's just a few spots," she says, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me back towards the staircase.

"They didn't look fine, though. Neville was crying."

"Well Neville's a wimp. And it's nothing like what Professor Carrow would have done to you. I was just looking out for you, okay?"

"I…"

"It was for your own good. I've got to protect you."

"By hurting them?"

She shrugs, but I can see from her face that she's not quite convinced by what she's arguing. If she's not convinced, how can I be?

"It's for your own good. But next time you can't just hang back. Do something little, okay? Just jelly-legs. It'll be fine. Okay?" she repeats again, knocking my hip with hers and smiling reassuringly.

"Don't hurt them again."

She sighs. "I was just looking out for you Britt, it's not a big deal."

"It is, though! It's… it's scary. You're scary sometimes, Santana," I tell her earnestly. The memory of her cellar floor covered in dead animals comes back to choke me, and I have to take a few moments to slow my breathing. I've been trying so hard not to think of that, because when I do think of it… I just don't know what to do. I pull away from under her arm that suddenly feels like an overbearing weight, remembering that was her wand arm. That was the arm she used to hurt those animals; to hurt Neville and Tina. "I don't like it. I don't like you at the moment."

"I'm not going to stop protecting you, Brittany," she replies quietly, staring at the ground. "I can't."

"Well I don't like it when you protect me like that! I wish you wouldn't. Please don't."

"I can't. I have to look after you."

"Santana…"

She steps back, shaking her head. She looks so sad – but she also has that look that says she's not going to change her mind even a little bit. I hate that look sometimes. "I'm sorry Brittany. I know you don't like it, but I have to. I can't let these people hurt you."

"Let me look after myself!" I cry out, but she's still shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, Brittany," she whispers, not looking at me now as she turns away and starts walking towards the stairs.

"Santana!" I shout after her, but she doesn't even look around. I don't understand. Why does she think she knows what's best? Hurting Tina isn't what's best! And she doesn't need to look after me all the time! Okay so maybe I let her look after me a lot before… but I can't do that now. I have to look after myself, just like I said I could. And I can. It might be hard… but I can look after myself just as well as she can, without hurting anyone else in the process.