"Hey, Ellie." She catches up with me after transfiguration.

"You skipped class again," I scold, and she shrugs goodnaturedly and walks with me down the hall towards history of magic. "So where were you?"

She shrugs again. "I just wandered around. Went to the library. Also, it's really nice outside. We should go out later."

"You can't just skip all of your classes," I protest, but she shakes her head.

"Shhh. Just let it drop, Ellie."

"But-"

She lifts an eyebrow and I fall silent. "So I wanted to show you something," she says, "and it involves me using a wand but I can't use a wand, so I'll just tell you about it now."

"Yeah?"

"There's this spell that's like confractus or whatever and it's supposed to help people like you read. You can try it. See, it makes the words heavier on one side. When you're like you are, your brain flips symmetrical letters really easily, and you get them sort of scrambled, which is why you can't tell them apart sometimes. So if you make the letters uneven, it's easier to read."

"I can tell you've been reading up on it."

"I have. It might work. You should try it."

She avoids saying the word dyslexic, which I appreciate. She's also more relaxed, which is nice. I vaguely remember that she used to never shut up, and I would listen to her, fascinated with how she managed to talk for what seemed like years and never said anything all that important. It was calming because you didn't have to worry about getting into something heavy with her. But if you needed, she got down to business, which is what she's doing right now.

I'm glad that I can compare her to her old self. It means that in a way, we're returning back to normal. It's only been a few days, but it's been going well. She keeps subtly mentioning Lysander- as if I didn't notice- and I'm pretty sure she's trying to get him and me to make up. Joel, on the other had, she avoids even thinking about. I don't want to think about him, either, so we're both experts at changing the subject and we get along well.

"What did you say the spell was again?" I ask.

"Confractus."

"Cool. I'll try it."

Professor Binns is the oldest professor ever. He's literally a ghost. He's as boring as all hell, and I can't bear listening to him, so I try out confractus on her notes, leaning across my desk to hers. She sits beside me and watches as her words thicken and darken into different shapes. It's like their weight has been thrown out to the side, making them uneven and asymmetrical.

I look at the page. Most of the letters sort themselves out, their irregularity making it easier to distinguish them, and I scan the page, consuming the words greedily. There are spots that I still can't read, but I blast straight through and skip over them

"Did it work?"

I nod furiously and flip over her notes to read the back. I hug her right there, at the back of the class. I might have teared up a little. Maybe.

We spend the rest of our free time that day reading- the spots that I can't read are still an annoyance, but it's amazing improvement and we sit outside for hours. I'm not sure if she's still reading with me or not, but I don't care.

"Hey, what's up?"

Lysander drops down beside us in the grass, and I stare at him, startled to see him here, uncharacteristically relaxed. He pretends not to notice. I notice. I notice how close he is. It's weird. I haven't been this near to him in my life, and it's weirder to see how close he is to her.

"This is our thing, isn't it?" he asks casually. "Reading together."

"No," she says, firmly pushing him away when he leans over to see what I'm reading.

"Yes it is," he insists.

"No, it's not."

"Can you two shut up?" I snap.

"Yeah, we can leave her to it. Take a walk with me," Lysander teases.

"Like hell."

"No, really. Come on." He tugs her away, and I'm left there, reading. I don't care that they're gone. I can't read fast enough, and I just sit there flying through page after page, until it starts to get darker out and I realise that there's no one else outside. I stand up, wondering what time it is, and walk towards the castle. I still have her notebook, but she's not at dinner so I can't give it to her.

It doesn't matter, because when I finish eating, me and my friends all tumble into the Ravenclaw common room, and for some reason I finally feel like I can join in with their crazy cold hedonism, and I drop her book in my room and escape into the cool spring nights swarmed with their excited, heady whispers and plans that are purposely not thought out. Oh, joel would envy me, finally able to escape what had paralyzed me before.

I can't stand being in the Hufflepuff common room. It's too warm, and it's too full of people. It's so goddamn claustrophobic that I slip out after curfew and go running around the Quidditch pitch a few times to get my pulse rate back down. It's cold out, but I don't mind it as much as the common room. It's even calming, the openness of the space out here.

Nowadays more people sneak out at night, and when I'm done running and I'm sitting on the highest bench of the bleachers looking back towards the school, I can still see wand light flashing past windows and shadows of kids scurrying around in the dark. I'm not sure what the teachers do anymore, but I'm pretty sure they know that half the school doesn't even sleep until two in the morning.

"Hi, Joel."

I swear loudly and scramble back, falling off of the bench. "When did you get here?" I snap, the breath knocked from my lungs.

"Waw you running around like a madman," my brother says, and pulls me up. I don't want to touch him, and I make a face when his hand meets mine. "Thought I would come out and tell you to go to sleep. Not that you would listen to me." He shrugs.

I study him, trying to figure out what he wants, but it seems like he's genuinely just standing here and telling me to go inside.

I look at him a little longer, and the green of his tie, tucked neatly under his sweater, catches me off guard. He never wears it, and seeing it now irritates me to the point of fury. Was he trying to it rub in? That he belonged in his house? That his status gave him power over me? Sure he was always showing it off, how much more powerful, how much more enabled he was than me, but why now? Why, when I'm worn through from the day's events and sick with being stuck inside all day?

"Fuck off," I snarl, and he smiles blandly, his eyes narrowed, the smile just a formality.

"You sound just like her," he says, and we both know who he's talking about without saying her name. We don't say her name. Not between the two of us. It was the sort of thing that we agreed not to do, even though we talked about her a lot. It was like we were trying to skirt around a problem that infected and connected us.

"I'm pretty sure everyone says that to you," I say, and Lysander laughs coldly and turns.

"Well, I'm off, brother," he says, and impulsively- angrily, because how dare he brush me off like that- I reach out and shove him down the bleachers.

I watch him fall, his arms splayed out, and I can't see his face, but I'm still satisfied to see him go. He hits the stairs about halfway down and crumples into a heap, sliding down a few steps and then smacking his head on the leg of a bench and going limp. He tries to stand, but he loses his balance and tumbles down a few more steps.

I laugh, following him, and he scrambles up and lunges for me. I've got the higher ground and all I do is plant my foot on his chest and send him flying back. I can see his face this time, the angry, corner expression on his face, the fear- the fear of me! My smile widens and he hits the stairs and collapses.

I walk down, and as I pass, I step on his hand, heel first, and hear something crack. A weak, muffled groan escapes him, and I sneer at his when he lifts his head.

"See you around, brother," I hiss, and walk off.