James and Nate looked at me, both of them silent. Suddenly, I couldn't sit at the table anymore. It felt like every pair of eyes in the Great Hall was trained on me. I stood, grabbed by books and tried to walk out calmly. I got about five steps before I couldn't stand it anymore and ran the rest of the way. Nate called out after me but I ignored him. I climbed the stairs two at a time. I needed to get out, I needed fresh air. I stopped paying attention to where I was running. My feet carried me to the Owlery. I used to spend hours here; spending time with my lovely Asha. When my mind returned to my body and I realized where I was, I looked around expecting to see her. She would understand where I was coming from; she would understand why none of this made sense. But, she wasn't here. She was gone. I couldn't stand anymore; I collapsed against one of the windows with my head in my hands.

Why was this happening to me? I pulled out the letter. 'you have something I want, and I intend to take it'. What the hell could that mean? I'm muggle born, I'm not extremely wealthy, and I don't have connections or anything of value. And yet, here was some psycho telling me he was going to take something from me. I shoved the slip of parchment back into my pocket and returned my head to my hands, a few tears slipping down my cheeks silently.

"You're not alone, you know."

I jumped at the voice. I whirled around, my eyes puffy and red and saw Nate standing the in the doorway. His face was covered with sympathy. I crossed the small room and flung my arms around him and buried my face in his neck. He smelled of sandalwood and musk. His hands closed around my waist and we stood like that for a while. Me, crying into his shoulder and him, murmuring words of comfort into my ear. This was the closest I'd ever been to him. Sure, we had hugged before but now my body was pressed against his; I could feel every curve, every muscle and I never wanted to let go.

But, as everything does, our embrace ended. I stared into his blue eyes and watched them flicker to my lips. Was he thinking of kissing me? Me, looking like a mess from running halfway across the castle? Me, with a tear stained face and eye liner most likely running. I stepped away from him before I could find out. I didn't feel like I could handle anymore complications; and kissing my cousins best friend was definitely a complication. He didn't make eye contact after that and I silently cursed my emotional instability; I should be able to handle something like that.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, grabbing my hand. A smile played in the corner of my lips but I shook my head.

"I just don't know what to make of it. The letter, the murders; I don't know what I have to do with any of it. It doesn't make sense." My voice cracked and I was once again on the verge of tears.

"V, we don't even know if that letter was from the murderer. For all we know it could be some sick Slytherin git, just trying to pull a fast one." His voice was soothing and I felt the panic knot in my chest slowly loosen. I started feeling numb. Nate was right; we didn't know who the letter was from and I was probably getting worked up over nothing. I pulled the parchment out of my pocket and dropped it out the window. I watched it flutter and spin in the wind until it was whipped around the corner and I couldn't see it anymore. Then I turned back to Nate and we walked down the stairs toward the common room.

"I don't want to go to the common room. I don't want to face James just yet." I pulled him down another corridor. He pulled back a tapestry that was pretending to be a wall and we walked down a narrow passageway. I was suddenly aware that we were hidden from prying eyes and of his hand wrapped tightly around mine. If only he would turn around and hold me again… No, I could not start thinking about that. He stopped and I thought my traitorous thinking had somehow been heard by him. But, as suddenly as he stopped, he started walking again.

"Sorry, I thought I heard someone." Was his only explanation. When the passage ended we were on the seventh floor near the room of requirement.

"Where are we going?" I asked since Nate was leading now. He shrugged and continued walking. We walked past where the doors to the room of requirement would appear. James and I used to sneak out and go there, just to do something. Harry told us of how it used to be a type of war room when he was seventeen. As far as I knew it hadn't been used for anything like that since then. There was a tower farther down this corridor that I'd never been in. Nate and I walked up a spiral staircase and into a circular stone room.

"Your uncle George used to tell James and me about his twin brother and all the trouble they caused when they were in school. He said that this was one of their hideouts from Filch. I started coming up here whenever I got too stressed with school or James and I had a row. It's like my safe place." I was used to people referring to my Weasley relatives like this so I didn't correct him. It was much easier to just call them aunts and uncles anyway. I looked at him; I couldn't believe he was telling me this or much less that he had brought me here. It felt like he was letting me in on something intimate. I shivered. Nate was sitting on the floor at this point but he noticed my shaking. He held his arms up in a clear come-sit-with-me gesture. I couldn't refuse him; I didn't have enough will power. I crossed my legs under me and leaned into him. His arm went around me and we stayed like that for a long while; until my back started to hurt and we laid down next to each other. We held hands but did speak as we both stared at the ceiling. If anyone else had walked in on it, they probably would've thought it was the most awkward thing in the world, but to me, it felt right and the moment was sweet.

November 15

I've been ridiculous, Diary. James and Nate are right. There is probably nothing up with that letter. Everything is going to be okay. I'm going to forget any of this happened and focus on studying for my exams.

I found myself late to class. It's not a common occurrence and I was pretty shocked I had let myself take so long in the shower. I hadn't had time for breakfast and I was now running down the corridor on the third floor trying to make it to Defense Against the Dark Arts. I spotted a Slytherin boy just ahead of me, also running. I didn't know his name, but I knew he was in my class and I breathed a sigh of relief; at least I wouldn't be the only late one. I caught up to him just as we burst through the doors. I realized what this must look like, a Gryffindor and Slytherin coming to class together. I avoided his eyes and made my way to an empty desk next to Nate; James sat in the chair in front of me. Professor Lovegood stood at the front of the classroom, observing me and the nameless Slytherin. She was a strange one to say the least. She had lank blonde hair and was one of the spaciest people I'd ever met. I remember thinking my first year that surely she couldn't be teaching DADA. I had viewed it as one of the most grueling and rough classes at Hogwarts. When I expressed this to Harry and Ginny though, they just gave me these knowing smiles and told me how during the war, Professor Lovegood was one of the most skilled duelist on their side. I had tried to explain this to some of my classmates who shared my concerns but nobody believed me, at least not until we got to studying Dementors in our third year and she produced a corporeal patronus which blew us all out of the water.

"I'm glad you decided to join us, Veronica. I think you'll be delighted at the guest we have speaking today." She didn't even look at me when she spoke; instead, she was staring dreamily off towards the ceiling. I wondered what she meant and why she had singled me out when I saw Harry coming out of the office that was joined to the classroom. I sighed and leaned back in my chair. Harry usually did two or three lectures a year but James, Nate and I almost never had to pay attention because he normally talked about the same things he taught us at home.

"Today, I'm going to tell you about the," He paused "Unforgivable Curses." The entire class sat up a little straighter, including the boys and I. "Now, when I was in school we learned about them our fourth year, but we were also being taught by a deranged, undercover Death Eater who helped Voldemort return to power." The temperature in the room seemed to drop about ten degrees and I noticed a few people flinch when he said the name, even after over twenty years.

"Who can tell me one of the Unforgivable curses?" He asked he eyes scanning over me as though he didn't think I would answer. He probably honestly didn't think I knew. It was something we didn't really discuss in the Potter household. I raised my hand anyway. He looked at me with less surprise than I was expecting and gave me a slight nod.

"The Imperius curse." I said, adding a quick "sir" at the end of my statement. He nodded thoughtfully.

"Yes, the Imperius curse. Anybody know what it does?" He asked. I kept my hand down, even though I knew the answer. This was one of those instances when I was perfectly fine with not being a know-it-all. He nodded again, looking at the floor.

"I want you to close your eyes and imagine that you have a string tied to each of your fingertips, a string on each of your wrist, arms, and shoulders. One on your head and on your knees and feet. Just thin strings, like fishing wire. Now imagine a person standing above you, no faces, just a figure and they're holding all of your strings in one hand. Now try to move. Who can actually do it?" Nobody raised their hand. "That's what it's like. You have complete consciousness of what you're doing, but you can't change what your body is doing. If I were to cast this curse on anyone of you I could make you do anything. Tapdance, sing, jump from table to table, but I could also make you jump out the window head first; I could make you drown yourself or take another's life. You would act like it was something you were doing by command of your own mind. But you would know and your puppeteer would know that you were truly innocent." He paused for breath and to see what kind of an impact he'd made on us. Nobody spoke. It was almost like we were fearful too. Then, after a few torturous moments a slender Hufflepuff raised her hand.

"Have you, sir, ever been imperiused?" She barely made eye contact and stuttered when she spoke.

"Yes." He said curtly. He paused for so long that I started to think he wasn't going to elaborate. Then, "It was a popular form of torture for the Death Eaters. They got off on having people kill their own families without being able to stop. I was imperiused for the first time in my fourth year. That demented Death Eater I was telling you about decided that the best way for us to learn about these curses was to preform them on us. He imperiused us until we could completely resist it. Well, until I could completely resist it. There are still two more curses though; would anybody like to give me the second?"

Everybody looked at me, expecting me to answer him. In every other class I was always the first to raise my hand with the correct answer, but here I felt as though I shouldn't know what I know. I'm sure it was practical for Harry and all of his friends to have learned about these curses when they were fourth years; there was a psychotic murderer on the verge of returning to power. But, there was nothing like that today, which is was why it had been almost taboo material for our DADA class, until now. We all knew about them, in some form or fashion. Every one of our families had been touched by them in some way or another, so why did it feel so wrong to know the information I knew?

"The cruciatus curse," He began when nobody spoke up, "Or otherwise known as the torture curse, inflicts such a pain upon a person they can begin to lose sight of themselves. There is no way I can properly convey how it feels, but, it's like every nerve in your body has been flayed open and your bare muscles are exposed to the air." He shuddered which caused the whole class to shudder.

"Some families in this room are better acquainted with this curse than others." I couldn't stop my eyes from glancing at Nate. I didn't know the whole story but I knew his grandparents were permanent residents at St. Mungo's because of this curse. Nate was staring intently at his desk, avoiding my look. "And the last curse?" Harry asked, his eyes sweeping over the class.

"Avada Kedavra." The words were whispered and it took me a moment to realize who was speaking. It was that Slytherin boy who had come in late with me. Harry stared at him for a long moment.

"Zambini, right?" He asked. The boy nodded and Harry looked at him before addressing the class again. "Instant death. Does anybody know what a gun is?" The few muggleborns in the class raised their hands along with James, the Slytherin, Zambini, and I. "Okay, imagine staring down the barrel of a gun. You know that it will most likely kill you, but regardless of if it does or not, you will be in excruciating pain for a short while. Staring at a wizard about to perform this curse on you is nothing like that. You know you will die. It is a certain, unchangeable fact. You know you will never see your family again, and if you have been disarmed, there is nothing you can do about it. I am the only person to ever survive the killing curse, and it was because my mother sacrificed her life to save mine."

If anybody other than Harry tried to say that last sentence, it would sound arrogant and cocky, but coming from him, it was just a fact of his life. It was something he couldn't change about himself regardless of how much he may have wanted to. A heavy silence followed his words and then Professor Lovegood dismissed us early. James and I hung back so we could talk to Harry.

"How are things going?" He asked us smiling like he usually did. We both mumbled that school was enjoyable without really making eye contact.

"Dad, have you gotten any leads on Mr. Shacklebolt's murder?" James asked, looking hopeful. My breath caught; this could be my chance. I could tell Harry everything, about the letter, about Hestia Jones' murder. He would know what to do.

Wait, I told myself. It wasn't real. I repeated the words over and over in my head until I believed them once more. Telling Harry would only make it real in my world and would just cause unnecessary worry for him and Ginny. No, I would keep the letter to myself.

"No. There have been no new leads." He avoided our eyes as he packed up some papers he had brought with notes. I noticed he left out talking about Hestia Jones. "You two should head to your next class, you don't want to be late." He ushered us out of the room and closed the door behind us.

"He just dismissed us you know" I commented to James. He nodded his agreement but didn't speak. "Well let's go down to lunch"

"Actually, V, I can't. I'm meeting Olive." He gave me a sheepish grin before striding off in the general direction of the Room of Requirement. I smiled at his back and turned to go downstairs. I, at least, would be getting some food. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and was startled when I felt something. I pulled out a note and my heart skipped about four beats.

V,

You can deny that I exist, but I'm not going anywhere.

Much love darling,

W.