Hey guys! I wanted to clarify really quickly what I'm doing here, I guess, since it seems like maybe that's a thing I need to do? I'm not out to change my character's stances on issues too much, beyond maybe softening some of the more extreme edges. In my group of friends, none of us have the same opinion on everything. Certainly not on anything political. Personally, I like having a variety of opinions around me. It keeps things interesting. I want the same sort of thing for Haven and her friends, so no, what I am doing here is not forcing them all to have the same opinion. Not at all. I am trying to teach them how to remain friends despite that, if that makes sense. Some debate etiquette and understanding for their friends would be useful, too.

Now that I've explained that, on with the chapter.


Chapter 52: Lost Once Again

It didn't make sense to Haven. How could everyone think she was wrong? How did that make sense? Only Luna and Neville hadn't said anything one way or another- technically, Fred, George, and Michelangelo hadn't, either. At least one of them had to agree with her. They couldn't all be wrong. Neville, at least, would… right? But he hadn't said anything. What if he didn't?

He had to.

"Are you going to cut them out, then?"

She was surprised by Neville's sudden, soft question. "What?" Haven asked.

"Are you going to cut them out, like you did with Draco?" Neville clarified. "Zacharias and Hermione?"

"I don't see why not. What they did wasn't right. It's not like Hermione wants to be my friend anyway." Haven replied. She hadn't consciously thought about it, but now that Neville mentioned it, that did seem to be the way this would end. So be it. If they couldn't realize why they were in the wrong, then there wasn't another way.

Hermione had called her despicable. As if Haven had suddenly become an irredeemable monster, like Lockhart. It was almost funny. Lockhart deserved a trial, but what did Haven, who was human, deserve? Certainly not as much as the murderer, it seemed. And Haven was the one who was flawed. How did that make sense? How did Haven deserve more hate than the one who had nearly killed their friend? How did Haven deserve more hate than the one who caused Michelangelo to sob and panic, and blame himself for not being able to keep the girl, Sally-Anne, safe? No, obviously Haven was the greater evil.

She would never understand it. She didn't think she wanted to.

Haven wasn't expecting Neville's reply. "But you can't. You can't do that again. You can't just cut people out of our lives because they disagree with you." His voice was soft, but there was something determined in the way he held himself. His hands trembled, but he held his head high. "What if I disagreed with you? Would you do the same to me?"

She did nothing but stare for a while. What? Where had that come from? Why would he ever think that? It was Neville.

At last, she scoffed and said, "I wouldn't need to, because you would never disa-" Haven cut herself off, frowning. Oh. She held Neville's gaze, unsure of what to say. That… sounded wrong. That's not quite… but wasn't that what she meant?

"I'm disagreeing with you right now." Neville pointed out. Haven felt cold. His expression… he was disappointed. In her. "I don't want to lose my friends, Haven. Not over something like this. They're more important… at least, I think so. Don't make me lose them. Please. Just… just think about it, okay?"

Neville left, just like Fred and George. Like Hermione. Like Zacharias. Like Luna. She was alone.

Was he really disappointed in her? But she was right. Wasn't she? She had to be. Haven slumped down into one of the chairs, feeling tears pricking at her eyes. All strength seemed to have been sapped out of her. She felt like she'd been hit by a truck. Absolutely blindsided. Had everyone turned on her? Even Neville? Why? She was right.

I am Dean. I am Dean. I am Dean.

A few tears spilled unbidden. They were wrong. They were going to get other people hurt because of their mistake. Why should she feel guilty for not wanting to be their friend anymore? Why?

I am Dean.

Neville had disagreed with her. Neville. Of course she would always be his friend. How could he say it like she wouldn't? Sure, when phrased the way he had said it, it sounded like logically he should expect the same, but it was Neville. Maybe he would disagree with her, but that had only been on her wanting to 'cut the others out'. Right? He had to agree on everything else, because she was right and he was Neville, so he had to. He had to be on her side. He couldn't abandon her like the others. He couldn't turn on her.

Haven wiped away the tears and grabbed her bag. At least she knew Sam and Uncle Bobby would agree with her. She needed to write them letters anyway, to thank them for their help and tell them what happened.

And, she thought, I can tell Uncle Bobby what they did, and he'll agree with me. He'll think Lockhart should've been killed.


Draco's POV

Draco was surprised to see that Dumbledore was back at breakfast on Tuesday, sitting in the Headmaster's seat as if he'd never left. He sighed down at his food. Great. Dumbledore was back. Draco's father was not going to be happy about that.

Once most everyone had begun their breakfast, Professor Dumbledore stood up and called for attention. The room fell silent.

"Good morning, students." Dumbledore began with a smile. "I have recently been reinstated to the position as Headmaster. I have several other announcements to make, if you will lend me your ears."

The old headmaster paused, before he continued. "First, I am pleased to announce that our Groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, will be returning to us from Azkaban and has been cleared of all charges in light of recent events. Professor Lockhart has been convicted for the murder of Sally-Anne Perks, the kidnapping of three other students, and the petrifications." Dumbledore frowned for a moment- had he known that there were two different culprits and was displeased that one was being blamed for everything? Well, if he was displeased, he should have tried harder to resolve it himself. "As a result, Defense Against the Dark Arts is cancelled for the foreseeable future, and all exams exempting OWLs and NEWTs in the subject are cancelled. For those of you taking those tests, extra tutoring will be held by some of the teachers and older students to ensure all you are ready for your tests. Dates and times will be posted in your individual Common Rooms within the next few days. Secondly, Professor Sprout tells me that the Mandrakes have miraculously matured and are ready ahead of schedule for Restorative Draughts to be made. These should be ready within the hour, and will be given to each of the petrification victims as soon as possible. All close friends are invited to visit them, but I would like to ask that you do not overwhelm your friends who are just waking up. Those of you who are allowed to visit will be excused from morning classes."

Draco grinned and exchanged a look with Daphne. That meant Blaise would be back! He could hardly remain seated.

"Lastly, I would like to ask that all of you attend the memorial services to be held in honor of Sally-Anne Perks next Saturday. Hogwarts will mourn her loss." Dumbledore concluded. Conversations resumed throughout the room, at first at a soft murmur and then building to the usual volume.

"Weren't the mandrakes supposed to take nearly two more months?" Daphne asked.

Draco nodded. "They were, but if it means Blaise is back, I'm not going to question it. Are you?"

"I suppose not. It's a miracle." Daphne replied. Draco resolutely ignored the displeased whispers of those nearby him, bemoaning that the muggleborns would be returning to health. Nothing would ruin this for him. Nothing. Not Potter's glares from across the room- speaking of, why were she and Neville sitting alone at the end of the table? In fact, the entire group seemed to have split up. The muggleborn Granger was sitting by herself. Smith was sitting with the Weasley twins and Lovegood.

Well, whatever had happened there, he was sure Blaise would be able to tell him in a day or two. Blaise. It would be so good to see him well again!

Daphne smiled over the rim of her cup. "Someone's excited about something. Could it have something to do with Zabini's recovery? Or perhaps just the opportunity to skip a class?"

"Oh, shut it." Draco replied with a grin. "Nothing's going to ruin today. Least of all you." Okay, maybe it was… inconsiderate of him to be so happy when a girl in his year was dead, but he hadn't had much reason to be happy all semester. He'd take what he could get.

Draco couldn't help but practically inhale what remained of his food. He might have pushed the boundaries of etiquette, but he wanted to be at the Hospital Wing as soon as possible. He was going to be there when Blaise woke up. He paused long enough to send a questioning look to Daphne- did she want to come along?

"You go on. I'll take notes for you." Daphne answered his unspoken question. He nodded, before practically flying out of the room. He could have done a tap dance, or something equally ridiculous.

He arrived at the Hospital Wing before anyone else, but was instructed to wait while the Restorative Draught was given the final touches. It was difficult to sit still. He exchanged polite greetings with those who came in after him- including a gaggle of Gryffindor first-years, and a group of Hufflepuff second-years consisting of Macmillan, Abbott, and Bones. Mr. Filch also turned up for his cat, as did several of the ghosts for the Gryffindor ghost.

Madam Pomfrey showed up with several flasks of potion- the Restorative Draught. Draco took his seat by Blaise's bed, trying to pretend he didn't notice Thomas' gaze in the back of his head. Thomas still hadn't been released, it seemed, but that made sense to Draco. The boy was just starting to regain some lost weight, and had needed several Calming Draughts from what Draco had heard.

The cat was the first to be given the Restorative Draught. Mrs. Norris was returned to a sobbing Mr. Filch, who carried her out of the room.

Madam Pomfrey went to Blaise next. Draco stood up, watching Blaise's face for the smallest sign of movement.

He blinked. He blinked!

"Draco-?" Blaise started groggily, before his eyes flew wide in horror and he sat bolt upright, nearly knocking Draco down and tumbling from the bed. "It was Lockhart- I saw him, in the mirrors- He took Thomas, I saw everything- the flower, and- but there's this, this snake too- I think there's two things, but tell them, Draco, tell them to go-"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down, there." Draco said, laughing. "It's fine. Everything's fine. We got Lockhart arrested, and the Chamber has been sorted, too."

Blaise sighed with relief, falling back on his pillows. "Really? Thank Merlin. But what do you mean, we?"

Draco coughed uncomfortably, "Well, you know."

In the next bed, where Finch-Fletchley was, the boy awoke with a cry. His friends crowded around him.

"Where's Sally-Anne?" The boy asked. The room fell quiet. "... Guys? Where is she? Have they found her yet?"

Draco closed his eyes as he heard Madam Pomfrey gently break the news, and then the Hufflepuff broke out into tears. They must have been friends. What a terrible thing to hear after waking up from Petrification. Draco couldn't even imagine.

Blaise glanced from the group of Hufflepuffs to Draco. "Perks is dead? What about Thomas? Is your friend okay?"

"I'm still your friend?"

Draco nearly broke his neck as he turned to face the source of the voice. Thomas had gotten up from his bed. He took a few slow steps and sunk into the chair beside Draco. He didn't look angry, but Draco tensed anyway. He didn't know what to expect.

"You know, from when I was rescued... I remember you were there." Thomas said after a few beats of silence. "I wondered if I was just imagining things, but you really were there, weren't you?" Draco nodded hesitantly. "When Alex- Look, when the fight happened, last year… my mum always says that you should hear both sides of a story before making a judgement, and I did hear your side, sorta, but I didn't listen, if you take my meaning? I'm sorry. I should have listened. I shouldn't have stopped talking to you over a mistake. I've just been thinking- I could've died, like, like Sally-Anne," the boy's voice broke, "and I would've died without ever saying sorry."

Was this… was this an apology? Draco almost couldn't believe it. An actual apology. From Thomas.

It took Blaise elbowing him in the side for Draco to say, "Apology accepted." It took another for him to tack on, "I'm sorry, too. About… everything, I guess. And I'm sorry about what happened to you."

Thomas nodded, and turned to Blaise with a small smile. It wasn't quite up to his usual standard, but it was something given the circumstances and his watery eyes. "Um, hi. Thanks for being concerned about me, I guess. Never met you, but I suppose a friend of Draco is a friend of mine." Thomas stuck out a hand. "The name's Dean Thomas, but you can call me Michelangelo if you want."

Blaise didn't react for several moments. Then a huge grin lit up his face. He turned to look at Draco, looking like an excited child meeting their personal hero. Then Blaise turned back to Thomas and shook his hand enthusiastically. Draco half-worried Blaise would break Thomas' wrist.

"Thank you so much!" Blaise exclaimed, his voice filled with wonder, "I'd love you be your friend. I'm Blaise! Blaise Zabini!"

Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes. Pathetic. His best friend was pathetic. Thomas looked to Draco, confusion written all over his face. He looked like he was half-considering rescinding the friendship offer.

"Don't mind him. He's just excited because he's got a sickening crush on your glorious leader. He's probably think that he's that much closer to getting into your little group or something." Draco said, rolling his eyes again because this deserved two eye rolls. Well, it was probably more to do with the fact that Draco was nearly positive Blaise didn't have other friends beyond him. Nothing more than acquaintances.

Thomas snorted while Blaise ducked his head, a light blush spreading across his cheeks. "It's not sickening! She's just- she's just- really amazing! And I don't- this is the first time someone offered to be my friend and actually meant it! You can't ruin this for me Draco!" Ugh at those doe eyes. Ugh.

"Well, it is kinda sickening, mate." Thomas said with a shrug. "And I'm only just learning about it."

Blaise's face fell. "Is it?"

Draco and Thomas nodded as one. Blaise hung his head in defeat.

"You haven't even seen the worst of it." Draco said conspiratorially. Finally, someone he could complain about this to! "This one time, he told me-"

"Stop, stop!" Blaise wailed, his hands waving through the air. "Come on, Draco! That's not fair! You still haven't told me how you figured everything out! About Lockhart, and the snake, I mean."

Draco sighed, "There's a lot to tell."

"What do you mean, a lot?" Blaise asked.

"It's April, Blaise." Draco said.

"April! What?!"


Wow, have I missed Blaise.