Disclaimer: Yep…. I own no one. Not even Lydia. I just gave her a name.

Summary: At the rise of the dark lord, innocent people were blamed for things they never did…. Or didn't remember doing. But when Lydia Finnigan starts to get blamed for the strange and horrific things that are starting to happen at Hogwarts, Amos will do anything to save the one he loves.

Foreword: Before I start, I'd like to say I have a good feeling about this one. That's something I rarely say about anything I write… maybe I can finally finish one. A few side notes: this is obviously set in Amos' school years, which I figured to be around the same time the Marauders were at school. They make some cameo appearances. Some other things…. I think the song "These Walls" (for which it's titled after), spurred me to write this. I've been thinking about it for a while, but never actually did it until now.

These Walls

By: Punkgothicjackal

Chapter 1: First Encounter

To Amos Diggory, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Of course, she didn't know this. That would be quite a conversation; telling the prettiest girl in school (in his opinion) that he fancied her more than he did Quidditch itself, and that was saying something. Quidditch was his life.

But Lydia Finnigan didn't even know he existed. She was Ravenclaw prefect, with four slightly younger brothers that kept close check on those few males that dared go near their sister. Even though they were younger, they were pretty big for their age. Not that that bothered him. He wasn't afraid of them.

So far, she had never even spoken to him. She spent her time on the grounds, studying and laughing with her friends, while he spent his on the Quidditch pitch, being a captain to his house team.

However, on the first day of classes in his seventh year, he got a pleasant surprise.

"Have you seen the schedule yet?" yawned one of his teammates, Marc Branstone. Marc was a tall boy with messy brown hair and little ambition to do much of anything, except play Quidditch.

Amos shook his head, chewing on a piece of toast. "No, why?"

"Almost every class this year is with the Ravenclaws. Usually we never have anything with them." Marc smirked suddenly. "You going to try and bag Finnigan this year?"

Amos scowled at him. Almost all the Hufflepuff seventh years knew how he felt about Lydia, but it still didn't make their teasing comments any less annoying. "I'm not going to 'bag' anyone."

Marc shook his head and laughed. "Sure… that's what you say now."

Amos raised a brow at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just that you'd think after five years of crushing on her you'd have said something by now." He shrugged. "Just remember, this is our last year. It's now or never." He suddenly smirked again. "That is, unless you're afraid of her brothers… I heard what they did to the last guy. He was in the hospital wing a month after they were through with him."

Amos rolled his eyes but couldn't help paling a little. He had also heard these rumors. "I think you're exaggerating."

"Your funeral." Marc stated, helping himself to more bacon. But Marc had brought up a good point… they did only have one year left at Hogwarts. One year left to tell her, or bury it all behind him. Maybe it was a crush, as he kept trying to tell himself. Or maybe it could become something more. But he'd never know, if he didn't do something about it. He had to act.

It wasn't just her brothers that kept him from ever approaching her. Her family was an old, pureblood wizarding family that had it's roots back as far as the founding of the school. Her father held a high position in the Ministry, second only to the Minister himself. Though he had never heard it from one of the Finnigans themselves, the rumors were that they also were very well off when it came to the contents of their Gringotts vault.

Amos' family was a different story. The Diggorys weren't poor, parse, but they weren't rich, either. His father worked in the ministry in the department of magical games and sports. His mother spent most of her time at home, gossiping with neighboring witches. The one thing that they did have going for them, however, was that they were pureblood.

As he trudged to the Hufflepuff common room to get his stuff, he checked his schedule for the first time since having received it.

9 o'clock- Defense Against the Dark Arts with Ravenclaw

11 o'clock- Care of Magical Creatures with Gryffindor

Lunch

1 o'clock- Potions with Ravenclaw

3 o'clock- Divination with Ravenclaw

11 o'clock- Astronomy with Ravenclaw

He checked the rest of the week. They were all similar, with most of the classes with Ravenclaw and occasionally Slytherin and Gryffindor. Not that he minded. He much preferred the Ravenclaws to the Slytherins. Sure, Gryffindor wasn't bad, but he'd still go for Ravenclaw.

He grabbed his bag and opened his trunk, tossing his textbooks into it and grabbing his wand off the nightstand. He rubbed his eyes and made sure he wasn't forgetting anything before setting off to the Dark Arts corridor.

He wasn't surprised to find that the majority of the class hadn't shown up yet, and he grabbed one of the choice seats in the back. Besides himself, one other Hufflepuff was there, drooling over her summer essay as she continued sleeping. A few Ravenclaws sat towards the front, whispering amongst themselves as they compared essays- all way longer than required. But that was Ravenclaws for you. Overachievers.

He started rereading his own essay as more and more of the class started to file in. At the last moment, right as the bell sounded, Lydia skidded in and took the last remaining seat. The one right in front of him.

"So glad you could join us, Miss Finnigan." Professor Madley said darkly. She was notorious for giving out horrible detentions to those that came in late.

Lydia blushed, and muttered quietly "My bag split."

"Now that Miss Finnigan is done interrupting our class, pass up your essays." She took them from the front of the rows. Meanwhile, Lydia turned to Amos.

It took a moment for it to register to him. "Err… what?" He asked as she stared at him expectantly. He had been too busy fighting the urge to just reach out and touch her.

"Do you have a spare quill?" She repeated, looking at him as if she thought he was slightly crazy.

"Oh.. Yeah." He dug in his bag and pulled out an extra one, handing it to her. His heart skipped a beat as his hand brushed hers.

She gave him a small smile. "Thanks."

That smile... It was something he'd never forget. The rest of the day, he was on his own sort of high. His classmates thought he was mad, but he didn't care. With the rise of he-who-must-not-be-named, everyone found it a rare occasion to be happy, to smile even. But everything was lost to him for the time. There was no doubt about it. He was in love.

Potions class made his day even better.

He showed up after a late lunch and a quick fly around the Quidditch field, to once again find his other seventh year counterparts already gathered in the dungeons for Potions class. He looked around for Lydia, and seeing her in the corner, went and sat next to her. She didn't even look up from where she was reading a letter that had come in the post that morning. Her hands shook slightly, and he frowned, wondering what on earth was going on with her.

She scowled and slammed the letter down, looking frustrated to the point of tears. Instead, however, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to calm down. She wouldn't let herself break down in front of her classmates. Instead, she found refuge from her thoughts in the soothing movements of threading the quill she had borrowed from him through her fingers.

Amos was tempted to ask what was bothering her, but decided against it. She didn't know him that well, and her entire family was known to have quick tempers when angered. Better not risk it.

As Professor Ratburn gave them their assignment for the day (to make a potion that would dilute poisonous dragon venom), Amos grinned upon hearing that they were assigned partners.

He looked at Lydia as their names were announced as a pair. She seemed not to have heard. It was obvious whatever had been in that letter bothered her deeply. He couldn't help but be curious about the contents. "I'll go get the ingredients." He said quietly to her. She nodded numbly.

As he grabbed the vials, she set up their cauldron wordlessly, and pulled her blonde hair back with a tie. She took a look the notes that had been their homework. They were to know how to make the potion by heart, but Potions had always been her weak spot. Potions had never really been his subject, either.

"Shredded skin of boomslang…" She murmured softly, adding it into the already boiling liquid. "Add three hairs of a hag when it turns orange…" She looked at the potion and frowned. "That can't be right. Ours is brown…"

Amos looked at it. She was right, it was a muddy brown that didn't look capable of getting any brighter at any time. "Are you sure you wrote that down right?"

"Positive!" She grabbed her potions textbook and began flipping through pages. "Oh… that's not good…" She pulled the two pages apart. They had stuck together, and, not noticing previously, she had copied the wrong potion. She looked closer to tears now than ever. "There's no way we can fix it now."

"No," said Amos slowly. "But we'll turn it in anyway. Let's face it," he added in a whisper, trying to make her smile. "Ratburn's probably too dumb to notice."

He was rewarded by yet another small smile. "I hope you're right." She said, getting an empty vial from her bag and stoppering a small bit of the potion into it. "Well, here's to no marks for us." She wrote their names on the cork of the vial and placed it on Ratburn's desk before coming back to start cleaning up the remnants. Amos took the extra ingredients back to the cupboard, but turned quickly to look at Lydia as she let out a small, pained scream.

While emptying out the cauldron, the acidic creation had splashed on her arm and had begun burning her skin.

"Diggory, take her to the Hospital Wing!" Ratburn growled, and Amos went and gently led her outside.

"A little further." He murmured to her. She whimpered in pain, still clutching her arm where the acid was still burning her skin. "Soon Madame Pomfrey will have fixed this for you."

When they reached the Hospital wing, Amos sat by her while Madame Pomfrey quickly put a salve on it. Soon enough she was back to new, and she wiped her cheeks dry, looking a little embarrassed about her display of emotion. She took the chocolate Madame Pomfrey ordered her to eat and looked at Amos.

"Sorry about this." She said quietly.

"Don't be." Amos smiled at her. "I'm just glad you're feeling better."

Lydia shrugged and broke off a small piece of chocolate, holding it out for him. "Want some?"

"No thanks." He laughed. "She'd probably kill me." He gestured to Pomfrey's office.

Lydia smiled teasingly. "Afraid of her?"

"No, I'd just rather keep my limbs attached, thank you."

She shrugged again. "Thanks though… for staying with me."

It was his turn to look embarrassed. "It was nothing."

"If it was nothing, why did you do it?" She met his dark eyes with her own blue ones and he blinked. Should he tell her the truth?

"Because it seemed like the right thing to do." He answered finally, weighing his options and deciding against it.

She looked away and took another bite of chocolate. "Thanks anyway."

He shrugged.

"So I'll see you in Divination?" She asked finally, once she had finished and gone back to potions to collect her bag.

"Yeah."

She nodded and left, and he watched her go. It took him a moment to realize that she had left the letter she had been reading earlier behind. He pocketed it, and headed back to the Hufflepuff common room.

A/N: It'll get better, I just had to get some stuff done to set up for later things… please review, hell, even flame me. Just review!