On Saturday March 1st at approximately 9:45 AM, Ron Weasley was poisoned.

Madam Pomfrey sent a patronus to where I was studying in the library, alerting me that there was an emergency in the Hospital Wing that required my help. I hurriedly gathered my things and rushed out while students who overheard the message whispered about what the 'urgent situation' could be.

A tall, thin boy with black hair and glasses was standing outside of the Medical Wing looking distraught. I recognized him immediately as Harry Potter, the school celebrity that was finally filling out his wiry frame with Quidditch muscle. I didn't have time to chat with him, but he forced me to stop by placing himself between me and the door.

"You can't go in there," Harry said, his voice sharp and irritated.

I blinked, glaring at the dark-haired boy who was blocking my way. "I work here."

"My best friend's in there," Harry snapped protectively. He was perhaps too nice to say it, but I could infer by his tone that my connection to Draco Malfoy was why he was being so obstinate.

Other people may be stricken by Harry Potter's presence, but I had no patience for people who were standing between me and my healing. "Madam Pomfrey requested me specifically," I said, trying to keep my voice from rising, "If you want your friend to get better, you'll let me in so I can help."

Harry pursed his lips, still not moving out of the way.

My patience had run out. I spat, "I know my relationship with Draco rubs you the wrong way, but it has nothing to do with my intention to heal people. So get over your prejudice and let me do my job."

I was perhaps a bit too mean with my choice of words; but that seemed to work on Harry. As soon as he moved to the side, I burst through the Hospital Wing doors.

"Erica, fetch the essence of rue!" Madam Pomfrey yelled the second I entered. She was crouched over a hospital bed where a red-haired Ron Weasley lay slightly convulsing.

I didn't bother with taking off my scarf and coat before setting to work. Harry Potter and his friends always seemed to find themselves in the middle of trouble so it didn't surprise me that Ron Weasley had somehow gotten himself injured.

As I hurriedly uncorked the vial of medicine, I asked, "How big of a dose?"

"Just bring all of it, dear, the boy's been poisoned."

My hearing garbled for a second, a high-pitched noise ringing in my right ear- but I forbid my hands to stop moving.

"P-poisoned?" I stammered.

"He's ingested something quite horrible- would have been instantly lethal, had Mister Potter not given him a bezoar."

My blood chilled so instantly I thought I was going to freeze in place. But thankfully, my healer training took over, allowing me to cross the room and hand Madam Pomfrey the vial. Ron's eyes were tightly shut, enduring the convulsions that shook his whole body. It was painful to watch, but I couldn't look away.

There's no way that the poison Ron took was the same poison Draco had planted. It couldn't be. It must have been a completely separate lethal poison-

Madam Pomfrey quickly portioned the essence of rue into the measuring spoon, forcing it into Ron's trembling mouth, then repeating the process three times until his body finally stilled to small quivers. Ron stabilized into a groaning sleep state, his chest still heaving up and down.

Madam Pomfrey watched Ron with tight lips. She looked very distressed.

"How did this happen?" I asked breathily.

"He ingested an expired love potion this morning."

I exhaled. "That must have been one doozy of a love potion."

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "The love potion wasn't what did this. Potter informed me that they went to Horace for the antidote. Horace offered the boys some of his aged brandy as a commemoration for Mister Weasley's birthday. Mister Weasley was the only one to have any, thank goodness- or else the three of them would have…" Madam Pomfrey trailed off, her eyes hard and troubled. My stomach sank. Madam Pomfrey cared deeply about all of the students, but I hardly ever saw her this upset.

"I have to report this to Dumbledore," she said, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "The circumstances of this incident are too concerning. I fear it may have been a targeted attack."

My mouth was dry. Guilt overtook my body, making me feel as paper thin as tissue. The very ground beneath me suddenly felt spongy, and my vision tunneled. Madam Pomfrey noticed the way my body wavered, and eased me down into a chair.

"I know it's distressing, dear," she said, rubbing my back gently. "But he will be alright."

My breathing was nearing hyperventilation. All the details Madam Pomfrey described fit the description of the poison that Draco had planted back in December.

And I helped Draco pick the poison.

"I-I'm sorry, Madam Pomfrey," I croaked. "But I think I have to excuse myself."

Madam Pomfrey interpreted my panic as sorrow and let me leave the Hospital Wing. Harry Potter was still waiting outside.

"E-Erica," he called after me, making me stop. His eyes looked rather pitiful and worried behind his round glasses. "Is- is Ron okay?"

I forced myself to linger in the hallway, even though I really wanted to run to Draco. "Yes, he'll be fine," I said to Harry, trying to hide the fact that I was frazzled. "Madam Pomfrey said you did the right thing by giving him a bezoar. Now we just have to continuously dose him with essence of rue, to eliminate any residual toxins." Harry looked reassured. I began to inch away. "I-I have to go for a moment. But I'll return to see Ron through his recovery, I promise."

Just as I was about to turn and bolt, Harry said, "Thank you for helping, Erica. I'm sorry for being rude with you earlier. My feelings about Malfoy are…" he paused, choosing wisely not to finish his sentence. "Well, you know. But I was wrong to think you were anything like him."

Oh, god, Harry, why did you have to say that? "Right," I replied, feeling like I had been gutted. "It's quite alright, really. I understand."

Harry sent me off with an awkward wave. I walked briskly down the corridor, breaking into a run as soon as I rounded the corner.

I didn't know where to go first- to Draco's room, or to the loo to vomit. I was so utterly disgusted with myself. I was supposed to be a Healer. And now, someone was hurt because of me- someone very, very important, and Harry Potter was trying to compliment me, saying that I was nothing like Draco, when I was just as bad as Draco. No, I was worse than Draco. At least he didn't pretend to be something he's not. I was a wolf in sheep's clothing. A fraud.

People throughout the castle were already talking about Ron's accident. I tried to ignore their whisperings as I rushed by them, hoping that it would all be gone in a day- but something like this was never just glazed over in this school. It was a big deal.

The atmosphere in the Slytherin common room was nothing short of jovial. They were rather entertained that Harry Potter's best friend was poisoned. It was like a brand new episode of their favorite show had just aired. It was sickening. I began to make my way to the women's loo, but was stopped by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Erica! Thank Merlin you're here-"

"I don't have time to chat," I said to them, still holding in the contents of my breakfast, "Ron Weasley's been poisoned-"

"We know," Goyle said. I realized then that he looked rather frustrated. "It's Draco. He's in his room, and-"

"He's freaking out," Crabbe added with irritation. They didn't seem to understand why Draco wasn't rejoicing like the rest of the Slytherins.

"Would you talk to him?" Goyle implored me. "I think you're the only person who can talk some sense into him."

"Good luck," Crabbe said pointedly, and then they both went off to joke and converse with other Slytherins about "Weasley's near demise".

I knocked furiously upon Draco's dormitory door, my knuckles sounding like a caffeinated woodpecker. Blaise Zabini opened the door. He looked overwhelmed, and a little pissed off to see me. "Erica," he said with a deep sigh.

"Where's Draco?" I demanded, trying to see into the room over Blaise's tall shoulder.

Blaise wet his lips like he was about to tell me bad news. In a low voice, he said, "Listen, I don't know if you want to see him like this. As soon as he heard Weasley'd been poisoned, he just shut down."

"Move." My tone was so vicious, I almost couldn't believe it had come from my mouth.

"Erica, come on, the man's a mess-"

"I'm his Healer," I hissed through gritted teeth. "If he's a mess, then it's my job to fix it."

Blaise's dark eyes solemnly closed. He exhaled deeply and stepped aside, allowing me to enter the bedroom. Clutter was strewn everywhere- books and clothes were places they shouldn't be. I realized then that someone had thrown them around the room.

"He's shut himself in the back," Blaise informed me, nodding to the closed door to the adjoining sitting room. I dashed to the door, uttering a hasty alohomora, and then shutting the door firmly behind me. The sitting room had also become a mess. Books were thrown from their shelves, and a curtain was hanging off of its rod, half-ripped.

Below the torn curtain sat Draco, his hands covering his face and his knees to his chest. Through shuddering gasps that I recognized as sobs, Draco groaned into his hands. Seeing him like this felt like shards of glass were pressing into my neck. I swallowed dryly. I had never seen him look so small.

"Draco," I went to him, kneeling beside him on the floor. His wand was laying on the floor across the room, like he had thrown it as well. I couldn't help but feel partially responsible for this. I wasn't just his girlfriend, I was first and foremost his Matron; and the fact that I was letting him emotionally crumble like this felt like my own failure.

"Draco, how could this have happened?" I said, gasping for air through my closing throat, "I just watched Ron Weasley convulse on a hospital bed. And now Madam Pomfrey is going to tell Dumbledore, and he'll likely launch an investigation- God," I also choked out a sob, "Of all people, the poison went to Ron- and now Harry Potter has gotten involved-"

Draco didn't say anything. He didn't even look at me. I might as well have been talking to a zombie.

"Draco, say something," I implored him, gripping his shoulders. "Please, one of us needs to be strong and I don't think it can be me." My voice cracked rather pitifully.

Draco's hands reached for me, latching onto the sleeves of my cloak, and with another gasping sob his head went to my chest. I could feel his entire body shaking.

"Oh, god," he said, his voice sounding weak and frightened, "Oh, god. I have to do it. Erica, I-I have to use the killing curse."

A chill wracked my body. I sniffled, stroking the back of Draco's hair as he cried into my chest. I didn't know what else to do. Draco's friends didn't know that Ron's poisoning had been the last failsafe before Draco had to face the reality of his last resort. I was the only person he could confide in- and I was ill prepared to help him. All I could do was hold him as he fell apart.

"Draco, I- I hate what this task is doing to you," I said softly. "Please. Is there any other way? Can't Professor Snape do it in your stead?"

Draco inhaled a few shaky breaths, still clinging to me. "No. No, Erica, you don't understand. I accepted this task to keep my family in the good graces of the Dark Lord. I have no choice."

"Yes, you do. You don't… you don't have to be a Death Eater."

Draco stiffened and ripped himself from me. His red-rimmed eyes looked at me with fierce emotion. "Do you think this is something I can just quit because I don't feel like it? I made a promise to the Dark Lord that I can never take back. I'm bound to him for eternity. I don't have a way out."

I was shattered by his words, and also the way he said them. He was at the end of his rope- the Ring of Ataraxy had stopped working, Ron was now involved in his misfired assassination, and he had to mentally prepare himself to use the killing curse. He was trapped, and my proposition for him to quit was only reminding him of the freedom he couldn't have.

I spoke weakly, like there was a bleeding wound in my chest. "What ever happened to you and me against everyone else?" I whimpered.

Draco's expression was hard and distant. "Stop saying those things. You're only making me feel worse."

"But-"

"We're speaking of this no further," he snapped, rising from the floor. His body was still shaking, but he was quickly masking his fear with cold anger and determination.

I looked up at him helplessly. He had completely disregarded my feelings, when I was grappling with the guilt just as much as he was. "Draco, what am I supposed to do? I feel like I'm drowning."

"You can help me by going back to the Medical Wing and healing Weasley. I have to focus on repairing the Cabinet before Potter finds out and ruins everything."

My face crumpled, and I sobbed pitifully, pressing a hand to my mouth.

Draco's expression softened, and he knelt down. He stroked my hair with shaky fingers. "Everything will be alright, Erica. I'll handle it."

I continued crying. Draco was usually so good at comforting me, making me feel invincible. But right now he was just making me feel just as trapped as he was.

"Don't cry, my love. I'm doing this for you. For us."

I wanted to yell at him that I didn't want him to do this for us. But he wasn't going to tolerate any further argument. So like him, I swallowed my tears, and rose shakily from the floor.

Draco and I had to be strong for each other- and I knew that he would scratch and kick as hard as he needed to in order to make ends meet. I wished I had that same tenacity. But it was impossibly hard to see the light at the end of everything when it felt like the walls were closing in around us, assuring our mutual destruction.

In fact, I didn't even think I could see the light anymore.