The door slammed shut.

I screamed in surprise then in pain as hot tendrils of pain shot up my arm through my hand. I felt it crunch more than I heard it and for a moment, I was too panicked to move. All I could mange was, "My hand! Ow, my hand!"

Jemma screeched behind me and dropped her bag. She raced forward and pulled on my arm. When I only yelped more she looked around for something more to do.

"The door! The door!" Tears started streaming down my face.

It took her a few moments to register, but then she hurried to the door and yanked on the handle but it wouldn't budge.

Now I really began to panic.

We both pulled on the door handle, wild-eyed Jemma throwing everything she had into just trying to open the door.

Through my haze of pain, I pulled out my wand. I was desperate enough to blow the door. "Move, Jemma!"

The door swung open easily sending the both of us sprawling backwards into the desks with a loud crash.

I pushed myself up with my elbows, whimpering in pain. My hand cradled close to my chest, I looked around in utter confusion. Through teary eyes I caught a movement of shadow beyond the door like the twirl of a cloak but Jemma was soon blocking my view, worrying over me. She babbled incoherently and tried to pry my hand away from my body. Every touch, every movement felt like fire in my veins.

"Ouch, Jemma! NO! Just stop!" I finally wailed.

Jemma was beside herself with tears too. "We have to do something! You should go to the Hospital Wing!"

"No!" I pulled my hand away and looked at it. It was bleeding a little around my knuckles and it felt like a solid dead weight. I could barely move it. I was aware of every heartbeat as it ached through my crushed veins. Already my fingers swelled. "I'm fine, Jem," I said weakly. I ground my teeth and forced my fingers to wiggle. My whole left side exploded in blinding pain. I tried to smile but was sure it looked more like a grimace. "See? I'm fine. No need to go to the Hospital Wing."

"Kay, what the hell?"

"It'll heal," I insisted. "It was my own fault, I-I must have slipped or something."

"Don't be stupid!"

"Please, Jemma," I begged in a quiet whimper. All I wanted was to go to the Hospital Wing like a normal person. But I knew that going to the Hospital Wing meant an examination. Madam Silva would find all my marks and would ask questions. Many were easy enough to explain: I fell here or tripped there. Some marks however, were clearly finger marks. Five evenly spaced circular bruises from when Tom got too passionate. A collection on my arms, congregated bruises on my hips, too many on my neck. For the most part they were hidden. I was lucky that Tom got rougher and bolder as the days got colder. Marks on my neck were easily hidden with my scarf or a sweater. But at the Hospital Wing…there would be questions and Tom would no longer be my secret. Or worse, maybe he would get in trouble.

Jemma glared at my broken face for a long time until she relented with a sigh. "You've been acting stranger and stranger… You think you're okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine," I lied. "It was just a door and I'm sure by tomorrow it will be back to normal."

Though not convinced, Jemma rolled her eyes at me. "It had better be."

Except that it wasn't.

The whole night was nothing but anguish. By morning, it didn't feel like I had slept at all. My hand throbbed painfully all through the night and kept me awake. When the walls danced with murky reflections of the weak morning sun filtering though the lake I sat up and found my hand had swollen up to twice its normal size. It now hurt to move my whole arm, so moving my fingers was now certainly out of the question.

Through all this, I put on a smile. I had to.

Jemma eyed me suspiciously as soon as she woke up. She could see the bags under my eyes and the way I cradled my hand. Instead of nagging me about the Hospital Wing though, she helped me ice it throughout breakfast. She didn't say anything, just gave me a look. Maybe she hoped I would turn myself in. I knew that I couldn't do that, no matter how many nasty looks Jemma gave me.

I was definitely grateful to her, but her help was short-lived. She had double Divination and I had…double Time-to-myself.

Usually Tom and I would work together either in the library or in an empty common room. Scratch that. Some days we worked in these locations, other days I explored his gorgeous body and some other ones he insisted on making me intensely uncomfortable by touching mine. But today I was alone with a possibly broken hand that I could do nothing about and my solitude hit me hard.

As Jemma flounced away, I chanced a glance at Tom. He met my glance for a fleeting second, looked me over scornfully, and turned away.

I let out a ragged sigh, my chest clenching painfully. I knew that wasn't how this worked. How silly of me.

Needless to say, those two hours were hands down the worst I had ever endured. I could create ice that wouldn't melt better than Jemma but that only soothed my pain for a while. I could only handle the cold for so long and when the tips of my fingers started turning white, I decided I should probably stop with the icing. Freezinf my hand off would not solve any of my problems. Instead, I tried to find healing spells. There had to be plenty, right? The nurse knew plenty! She had spells and potions so why couldn't I find any?

When I did actually find one, it was far too advanced for me. I tried it and failed and my hand ached worse than ever.

By class time, I was losing commission of my whole arm. All I could do was hang it loosely in my robe pocket and use it as a makeshift sling.

I wiped away tears and made my way to Transfiguration.

Dumbledore greeted everyone with the usual but he seemed to fix me with a particularly probing stare. I would have been annoyed with him if I didn't feel like chopping my whole arm off.

The heavy door swung closed and Professor Dumbledore swept to the front of the large, brightly lit Transfiguration classroom, his fuchsia robes dragging the floor behind him. He stood at the large oak desk at the head of the room and beamed at all of us, his arms wide. It was like teaching sixth year Slytherins and Ravenclaws Transfiguration was all he looked forward to all week.

I rolled my eyes.

"Today I will teach you how to turn yourselves into common objects like pocket watches or furniture, all manner of things really. This sort of Transfiguration, as I am sure I don't have to say, should be taken very seriously. It is easy to make mistakes but instead of having a silver matchstick, your own friend could end up with a candle for a hand or clock hands for a mustache or a curtain tassel for a…" He chortled to himself. "Well, you know."

Chuckles echoed around the classroom.

"As such, I must impose on all of you the importance of doing this correctly. Our nurse can cure us, of course, but better not to ask it of her. If you only listen carefully, no one shall have to leave with chair legs."

A few people laughed again. Beside me Jemma made a disgusted noise.

Professor Dumbledore beamed as he pulled his wand from inside his robes. "All you must do is hold your wand in front of you, just so. Then you reach forward with your other hand and make a sweeping motion with it while bringing the point of your wand down." He preformed it for us a few times, slowly. "See? Simple. Now, we all know magic within us can only be accessed with our words of power. For any kind of human transfiguration, all one must do is focus on the object you wish to achieve and say these words: Egosumnon quodappareat! You may say them out loud or in your mind, this is not Defense Against the Dark Arts, it makes no difference to me." A Ravenclaw girl raised her hand.

"Yes, April?"

"Sir, how do we turn back?"

"Ah! Yes. Excellent question. The transfigured person must simply decide to change back, whether it be willing a finger to move or thinking about saying "hello" so someone passing. This exercise, my dear, is all in our own heads, as is much of our perceived lives."

The class was oddly silent after this statement and Jemma and I shared a reproachful glance.

"Now," Professor Dumbledore said brightly, "who would like to volunteer to come up and give it a try?"

No one moved. In fact, I'm pretty sure most people sunk into their seats.

He clicked his tongue at us. "Come now, trying new things is wonderful. Consider it an adventure! No one expects for you to be perfect, that is something we strive for ourselves, rather pointlessly, in my humble opinion."

"Humble, yeah right," Jemma murmured to me.

I snickered with her. We all knew that Professor Dumbledore had discovered the twelve uses for dragon's blood and had been awarded a place on the Wizengemot for it before he had even left Hogwarts. He had in no way a humble opinion.

He called on a student and he transfigured her into a coat rack in front of the class. He loudly encouraged her to focus on being human again and in a few seconds, the coat rack started to move and turned back into the girl.

"Too bad," I sniggered. "She was actually useful as a coat hanger."

My Slytherin classmates chortled around me.

Professor Dumbledore fixed me with a reproachful glare before addressing the whole class. "Break into pairs and try it on each other before yourselves. I will be walking around the classroom helping where I am needed." He shooed us with his hands and the room collectively burst into movement.

Jemma and I stood but I shook my head at her. "I can't," I told hr in a low voice. "I can't move my arm, Jem."

"Oh no? What a surprise," Jemma replied sarcastically, raising her wand. "Maybe I'll change you into a damn stretcher. Then maybe I can take you to the Hospital Wing."

"Ha. Ha."

Her nose scrunched up, Jemma pointed her wand, stretched out her hand and focused. "Egosumnon quodappareat!"

I squeezed my eyes shut and waited, but nothing happened. "Well, I'm glad I don't have a tassel for a—"

"Jemma, you were not focused enough," Professor Dumbledore said as he strolled towards us, watching with vague interest. "You must clearly picture in your mind the object you wish to turn Kaitleen into. This spell is all mental. Why don't you try it, Kaitleen?"

I blanched. Jemma looked at me fearfully from behind Professor Dumbledore's back.

I slowly pulled my wand out.

"Remember to focus." Dumbledore watched my every movement keenly.

I hesitated. I could hardly focus on one trembling hand and the other aching one, let alone what I want to turn Jemma into.

"Your other hand, Kaitleen…"

With a dejected sigh, I pulled my hand out of my pocket and stretched it out in front of me.

"Kaitleen!" Dumbledore said in a hushed voice. "Your hand, my dear!"

I tried to hide it again.

"Show me, my dear."

I shook my head. "It's just a bruise, Professor, really. It's fine."

Dumbledore lowered his hand and peered at me over his half moon glasses very sternly. I squirmed underneath his sharp gaze. He could see right through me, I knew it. "Did you fall again, Kaitleen?" he said softly. I could hear the seriousness in his voice. "How many times does this make? That you've fallen…"

My head shook again and I mumbled the same thing that I've always told myself, "It was an accident."

He shook his head but didn't lower his gaze. "Kaitleen, is there anything you wish to tell me?"

"No, sir," I said almost immediately.

Professor Dumbledore looked between the two of us and nodded. "Carry on. Just focus in your mind's eye, and remember that I am here should you need me."

Jemma whispered to me after Dumbledore walked away. "You should have said something," Jemma hissed.

"To Dumbledore?"

She shrugged. "If you can't trust him, who can you trust?"

Class went on too long for my taste. I was begging the bell to ring. Jemma tried five more times to turn me into whatever it was she was thinking of. She only succeeded one time in turning me brown and sort of woody. Just as Professor Dumbledore had said, I changed back no problem just by thinking about it.

Jemma was still laughing however until the bell sounded.

"Keep trying with a partner over the next week," Professor Dumbledore called over the din of shuffling bags and scraping chairs.

We exited quickly into the hall with the rest of the students. Jemma was bragging to me about how she had pretty much turned me into a broom like she had wanted. I rolled my eyes at her and wondered if I could skip our next class and try to find a potion that would help me heal.

"Wait. Uhm…Kaitleen?"

Jemma and I turned curiously back and found myself face to face with a vaguely familiar Ravenclaw boy. He was tall and broad shouldered with short, sandy blonde hair and clear grey eyes. He was handsome enough in a classic way with his square jaw and long, straight nose. I wondered where I knew him from.

"Ah," the mystery boy reached up and rubbed the back of his neck nervously, color tingeing his ruddy cheeks. He looked between the two of us uncertainly. "I-I'm Edgar Nolan…I'm in your Ancient Runes class?"

"And Transfiguration, it seems."

Jemma glanced between us then said, "I'll just leave you to this one, shall I? See you in class." I watched her leave wondering what the hell that was supposed to mean.

I turned my attention back to him and suddenly remembered. "And you're on the Quidditch team!"

He smiled shakily and nodded, blushing madly. "L-look, I know Professor Dumbledore was giving you some trouble a-and I thought maybe you could use some help?"

I didn't understand, and I told him so.

"See, I'm pretty good with healing spells… Here, give me your hand." He held his own out invitingly but he must have sensed my indecision because he smiled warmly. "Really," he coaxed gently. "I want to help."

Somewhat suspiciously, I lay my left hand in his. It was quite a bit smaller than his and hot to the touch. I shivered in a kind of pleasant delight and my suspicion melted away when he pulled out his wand and set to work. I watched him with wondering eyes while he murmured an incantation I couldn't hear, eyes fixed on my hand giving me plenty of opportunity to appreciate his chiseled features (He had freckles spattered across his nose. How adorable!). The pain eased instantly, replaced by a warm tingling and the feel of his large rough hand on mine.

The tingling sensation lifted with his wand and he examined my hand closely. He shook his head and sighed, "It's not completely healed—"

"It feels much better," I assured quickly. My eyebrows knit together. I hope he hadn't heard how breathy my voice had been.

"It looks better." His forehead furrowed and he thumbed the sleeve of my robe away. "Do you want me to get rid of these too?"

I snapped my attention to our hands and my eyes widened when I saw the bruises left by Tom's fingers on my wrist. "No, it's fine!" I snatched my hand away from him. He looked at me in innocent confusion. "You've done so much already."

"It's really no trouble—"

"No! Okay?"

Edgar gulped and nodded slowly.

I sighed and looked away, guilt writhing inside me. "I'm sorry, Edgar, but it's okay. Really. Thank you for healing my hand. I really appreciate that."

He blushed and smiled in the cutest way, lopsided and bashful, his hand already coming up to rub his neck. "Ahh...any time! Really, I-I just wanted to help."

I smiled up at him then realized I had stared for too long. I looked away and wished he would leave. I didn't need this kind of mess in my life. As I am sure he didn't want my kind of mess in his. And Tom.

Dear Tom.

I was many things but unfaithful wasn't one of them.

Although Tom sure did like to make it seem like we weren't together, and he kept secrets from me, and would never really talk to me…

I shook my head.

I didn't deserve better.

"I'll see you later then, Kaitleen. I-In Ancient Runes?"

"Y-yeah. See you. Thanks again," I replied weakly.

We set off in opposite directions and I breathed a sigh of relief. Not just because my hand felt immensely better, but because I wouldn't have to deal with the kind of thoughts that Ravenclaw boy brought out of me.

Someone knocked into my shoulder roughly and I looked up to yell at the person who hadn't even bothered to stop, a nasty curse on my lips. But instead of giving them a piece of my mind, I choked on my words.

I knew that quickly retreating back. I spent too much time memorizing that sneering profile not to know it instantly.

It was Tom Riddle.

Okay folks,

I love this story so freaking much it'll literally be the death of me.

I'm afraid I have spoiled you these past two weeks. I've posted almost every day and, well, my school is getting affected. I'm not going to stop posting! Don't get me wrong! But I just would really love to graduate this quarter. So posts will come a wee bit slower, but believe you me-

They will come. :]

Reviews, I love reviews, they make me so happy, so feel free to leave them! :D Any artist loves when their work is appreciated.