Chapter 1: The Door

There was a door in front of me.

And when I say a door, I don't mean a door like you would put on a bedroom to keep people out. I mean a door like you used to see on old castles, the kind that's big enough to really be a wall.

So what is my dilemma, you ask?

That big, enormous door has no handle, and I can't figure out how to open it.

Seriously, how do you open a door with no handle?

Usually, I would just pull my wand out of my pocket and hex the door out of the way.

Except that I seem to have lost my wand, too.

Apparently, I am currently in the world of conundrums. A door without a handle, a wizard without a wand. What's next, a book without words?

On second thought, that might actually be cool. If I could find one, I would have to convince my teachers to start using them in class.

Except that to do that, I'd have to get out of here.

It was somewhat infuriating. I didn't even know how I'd gotten here. The last thing I remember, we were in the middle of our match against Slytherin, and we'd been down by 10. I was yelling at James that if he didn't hurry up and find the Snitch, I'd curse him into next year for letting my little brother beat him.

So how the hell did I get here?

I had no doubt that James would catch the Snitch, and we would therefore win the Quidditch cup, and we'd have a grand party in the Common Room, where we'd all get smashed, and I'd end up in a broom closet with a girl that I'd never met before.

So overall, there was no reason at all for me to be locked in a room without a girl I'd never met before, not drunk, and without any recollection of how the game ended up.

It was all very disorienting, really. If I only knew how I'd gotten here, maybe I'd be able to get out.

There was a positive side to not being drunk, of course.

Liz.

She was probably the only girl that didn't want to shag me, and the only one in particular that I didn't really care to.

Doesn't make sense, really, considering who I am, except that she's been one of my best mates since I was in my second year.

It was in our fifth year that she started to be disgusted with me. She doesn't really like my morals, see, so whenever I do end up in a broom closet with a girl I don't know, she gets all pissy and won't speak to me.

So that kind of happens a lot.

I don't really get what her problem is, but it's gotten worse lately. Maybe she's just more practiced now, so she's better at it, but it seems more personal than that. It still doesn't make much sense.

After all, she chose me as a friend. She's a year younger than me, only a sixth year.

I could remember the day perfectly when she'd sought me out.

I was sitting next to the tree out by the lake, at the beginning of January, without a cloak. We'd only gotten home from Christmas Holiday a few days ago.

A tiny little girl walked over and sat down next to me.

"Hello!" she said cheerfully.

"Who are you?" I asked sullenly.

"Elizabeth Greene. Or Liz, if you like."

"Why are you out here?" I asked. "You'll freeze."

She laughed lightly. "I like the cold. It's kind of silvery, you know?"

"How does cold have a color?" I was really annoyed by this little girl.

"Everything has a color. Everything, everyone. Except people's colors change sometimes. I'm green, like my name! I used to be purple, though."

I ignored her.

"You look really cold," she said. "Why are you out here?"

"To be alone," I said rather harshly.

She didn't take the hint. "You know, usually when people say they want to be alone, they really mean they feel alone, and they just want someone to understand, but they think that nobody can."

"No," I said, emphasizing the word. "I want to be alone."

I finally looked her in the eyes, and she frowned. "You've been crying," she stated.

"No I haven't." Boys don't cry. Didn't she know that?

"I really wish you'd stop lying," she said. "There's nothing wrong with crying, you know."

"I really wish you'd go away," I told her.

"I'm annoying you, aren't I?" she said. "I'm not very good at this, I guess."

"Good at what?"

"Cheering people up."

"Oh." She'd caught me off guard.

"Do you want a blanket?" she asked. She seemed to be wrapped in several, along with multiple cloaks.

"Won't you get cold?"

"Not really. I've got extra."

I shrugged, and she took that as a yes, somehow managing to unwrap one of the blankets and hand it to me.

"Thanks," I muttered.

She beamed. "So why were you crying?"

I didn't really see how to stop her, so I just told her the truth. "My back hurts."

"Why."

I didn't answer. Even James didn't know about my parents, and I sure as hell wasn't telling this strange little girl.

"I'm won't tell anyone, I promise. Besides, it's not like I have anyone to tell. I haven't got any friends."

'Shocker' I thought, but I didn't say anything.

"What's so secret about it?" she asked. "Is it personal, or is it because someone did it too you?"

I still didn't answer, but she took my answer from the look on my face. She told me later that it was because my color had flashed.

"Who was it?" she asked. She seemed genuinely concerned now.

Snow started whirling around us, and I saw her shivering through all her blankets before I realized that I was shivering, too.

"We should go in," I said.

"You're avoiding my question," she told me, frowning again. Frowning didn't really suit her, I thought. But she started to stand up anyway.

"I'm not going to tell you," I pointed out.

She nodded. "I know. But it's not really fair. I told you why I'm alone, but you won't tell me why you are, so we can't really understand each other."

I never really knew why she wanted to understand me. Maybe she just wanted someone to understand her. Either way, we'd ended up sharing life stories. She was the first person I ever told about my family, my parents, all the expectations I didn't want to live up to.

And she told me how everyone considered her a freak, even her own family, and I realized that she was right when she said that lonely people just wanted someone to understand them.

So we'd ended up best mates, and even James didn't understand us. He liked Liz okay, but he'd never gotten over the color thing. I just learned to take it for granted, and it never bothered me. Remus didn't mind because he was different too, with his "furry little problem".

But lately Liz and I were drifting, because of me. So the more I kept control of myself, the closer we were.

I wished that I could just ignore it altogether, that need to always be with some girl or another. I had tried, so many times, but it didn't matter how hard I tried. I just couldn't get over it.

Right now, all I wanted was to be back where I belonged. I wanted so bad to be able to get through that stupid door and see Liz again, for however long it could be until she stopped talking to me again.