Disclaimer: I don't own HP or any of the copyrighted stuff.
A/N: Don't shoot me for this chapter; it had to be done for a smoother transition into the next, and is intentionally short so as to not overdose everyone on melodrama.
Chapter Fourteen - Alone
More than a week had passed, and there was still no word about Sam. For that matter, there had been no more letters from home either, and Lyn was starting to feel alone even in the crowds of students she passed through each day. At first, all the other Gryffindors had stopped her to ask for updates, but now Sam's removal to St. Mungo's had become old news. The only time anyone talked to her anymore was in Herbology, when she worked with Hannah, Susan, and Ernie. They, at least, still seemed concerned; everyone else had moved on to wondering when Fred and George Weasley had managed to put a jinx on the boys' toilets.
Draco hadn't tried to talk to her since Snape had berated him, and in Charms, Kyle and Christian were too busy whispering together under their breaths to speak to anyone else. Strange, Lyn had thought, how she seemed to have no other friends besides Sam in her own house. Her dormmates were more acquaintances than friends, after all—Hermione was always with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, and Parvati and Lavender were continually gossiping about things Lyn wasn't particularly interested in.
Not that she had ever minded any of that before, but it was only fun to laugh at all the rumors if Sam was there to commentate with.
But the strangest thing of all was in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Quirrell kept giving her points for the oddest things, like fetching a spare book from the cabinet or catching a garter snake off the floor. She hadn't mentioned that the reason she had done the last one was because she had understood its pained hissing. Of course no one else in the school was a Parselmouth, but Lyn had been unable to ignore its pleas for warmth, even if she hadn't been able to reassure it in front of the class. They wouldn't have reacted too well if she had started hissing back at it, although she was extremely curious what the little fellow had been doing in the castle as November wore on.
Yes, November… that fact had her even more depressed. Her birthday was coming up soon, and with Sam still away, no one was going to remember it. Of course, her mum would probably send something by post, but Lyn couldn't remember a birthday where she hadn't been mauled by Reneey, singing a heavily accented version of the happy birthday song.
It became especially bad when Lyn missed the Gryffindor Quidditch match because she didn't feel like facing the crowds. She instead spent that day in a girls' lavatory, talking to a miserable ghost named Myrtle who seemed to relish in trying to convince Lyn that it was more trouble than it was worth to try to have living friends, anyway.
At least she had finally convinced herself that dream she had been having when Dumbledore found her had truly been just a dream. After all, there was no way Voldemort could possibly hide out in Hogwarts. It had far too many magical barriers and wards, as the copy of Hogwarts, A History that Hermione kept under her bed had assured her. But no amount of logic could drive away the feeling of dread that was building in the pit of Lyn's stomach. Something was coming; she just didn't know what.