"Harry, Vera!" Hermione cried.
Vera and Harry had just walked through the doors to the Great Hall. They went to the Gryffindor table and sat by Ron and Hermione, who wore identical worried looks.
"Where have you been?" Ron asked.
"I'll explain later," Harry said.
"Oh, Harry, you're covered in blood!" Hermione squealed.
"Hermione, it's alright," Vera reassured her as Hermione began siphoning the blood off Harry's face. "Did we miss the Sorting?"
"Of course you did, didn't you? You showed up 15 minutes late." Ron said, shoveling food onto his plate.
They ate their food and listened to the chatter of their fellow students that surrounded them. Vera couldn't help but notice Malfoy at the Slytherin table, who was reenacting the breaking of Harry's noise to a small crowd of Slytherins. Anger bubbled inside her as though she were a lit cauldron. She couldn't believe his nerve. She wondered what Harry had done to cause Malfoy to do it. But then again, Vera thought maliciously, this is Malfoy we're talking about.
They finished eating and, after a word from Professor Dumbledore, they left the Great Hall.
"First years, this way!" Hermione called to the small, timid looking new Gryffindors, then she and Ron disappered in the crowd of those bustling toward the door.
"So," Harry said. "Your ankle's better?"
"What? Oh, yes, it's a lot better."
They walked for some time in an awkward silence. Something about seeing Harry crumpled on the train seemed to have come as a shock to Vera. She had seen Harry unconscious, with cuts, even lose all the bones in his right arm, but frozen and bloody...it was almost like he was dead. And for a moment she thought he was gone, and she hadn't even said good-bye. Or even apologized for the way she had acted. 'Chances come and go with the blink of and eye—take them', is what she was always told as a child. Second chances would be slim, considering the times they were all living in: fear and hate reigned, why create more?
They reached the Fat Lady's portrait without Vera's notice.
"Vera?" Harry said, interrupting her train of thought.
"Uh-huh?"
"Are you coming?"
"What?"
Harry was standing in the portrait whole, waiting for her to follow.
"Uh, sorry," she said absentmindedly as she walked in after him.
"Goodnight," he said without looking back.
"Wait, Harry," Vera called after him.
He turned around.
"Harry...I," She couldn't think of how to say it. "I...I'm sorry for how I was treating you today. You were only trying to help me and—"
"It's okay," he said softly. He walked over to where she stood. "I shouldn't have been so controlling."
"No, I should have accepted that you were concerned and wanted to help."
He laughed. "Maybe we're both to blame!"
"I guess," Vera said feebly and smiled at him.
"Don't beat yourself up about it, Vera." He smiled back.
"You're right, but it's just that...the way things are lately...I just don't want to take things for granted anymore."
"I know exactly how you feel," he said solemnly.
"Well, I guess we should get to bed," Vera said.
"Right, well goodnight."
"Yeah."
He smiled and gave her a small hug. Vera couldn't feel her fingers. He turned and left the room.
Smiling to herself, Vera sank into a chair, reassured that things were going to be all right.