Harry woke up in his dormitory feeling refreshed and hopeful.
He bathed and dressed for the day, and walked out into the common room to wait for his friends.
Harry greeted plenty of other students, classmates, older and younger - newer - and even the new Prefects (a Cassandra Reesh and a Vicky Taylor) from a year above his.
He greeted Susan as she emerged from the girls' dorm, her full bag of books already slung over a shoulder. Ready to go.
"Hello," he said.
"Hi," she sighed. "Look, about Evelyn-"
"You want to apologize?"
"No," Susan said firmly, shaking her head. "Harry...you've stuck by her for a long time, and that's great of you. But I just can't. I can't be around her knowing...what kind of horrible things she's done. And at the World Cup, she almost got me killed. She was stupid and reckless, and she's dangerous. I can't be her friend - and I'm not sorry. You're wonderful, forgiving, all of that - but I'm not so much. Not for her. Not for what she did."
Harry wanted to yell at her, scream at her: Evelyn's mother had been abusing her, she was twelve, she'd been manipulated by a powerful Dark Artifact that Voldemort himself had tore through the Ministry of Magic to retrieve for some terrifying reason...
But, in the end, he said none of that.
He reached for his Occlumency lessons, and he breathed, and nodded. And he looked away. "Alright. Fine. If that's your choice. But I still want to be your friend. Can you still be mine, even if I'm still hers?"
"Of course!" Susan said quickly. "I don't want to- abandon you. I- I just said it, Harry: I am fine with you staying by her. You...know her, you understand her more, and...you just forgive more easily, you care more easily. And I can't condemn that. Not you."
"You seemed fine with her at the World Cup," Harry couldn't help but remark.
"Well, I wasn't. And I wasn't going to make a big scene in front of our parents," Susan sighed. "But she did anyway."
Harry felt a flash of anger toward her. He breathed again. "Yeah...well...great. So we're still friends. You should get ready for today's lessons - wouldn't want you running into Evelyn and starting a fight."
"I'm not going to start a fight with her," Susan retorted. "If anything, I'm going to avoid her and ignore her."
"Then go do that."
A huff. Another sigh. "All right. Bye, Harry."
"Bye," Harry said, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
"Ugh! I hate when you do that tone!" Susan left him there, hefting her bag and stalking out of the common room exit.
A few minutes passed, students filled up and milled about the common room, and Tamara emerged.
She looked, immediately to Harry, very subdued and closed off. Drawn in on herself.
Her gaze found Harry instantly, and she shuffled over to him with a frown.
"Are you still going to be Evelyn's friend or not?" Harry signed at her swiftly, wanting to avoid another big argument like with Susan. Best to just get an answer and move past it.
Tamara shook her head, then shrugged. Then, she signed back hesitantly, "I want to be - if she'll let me be again. She was right. I have been an awful friend to her. I haven't seen her once in two years. You were there for her, and I never was. We were kids, I was confused and afraid of her - I still am - but she was a kid too. She could have used more friends with her. She was lucky to have you, Harry. I want to be there for her now, too. I want to make up for it, however I can."
"I'm sure she'll be happy to be told all this from you herself," Harry signed back to her, smiling at her. "And I'm sure she'll give you another chance. She was just really upset yesterday - I'm sure she didn't mean what she said to you."
"I'm sure she did," Tamara replied. "And I don't blame her for how she feels. But I am so very sorry."
Harry glanced at the girls' dormitory door. "Is she even awake yet?"
Tamara shook her head.
A familiar two feelings, mingled weariness and anxiousness, worked their way up Harry's spine. He stood, giving Tamara a quick nod and a sign of, "I need to go and check on her," and quickly moved for the door.
He got to the door, pausing there to shove down embarrassment, and pulled it open and stepped inside.
It was just a dorm - same as his. Except there were a few girls sitting around on the beds, or sleeping around on them.
Harry ignored all of them for one girl alone, one bed alone.
Evelyn was laying on her side, under her covers up to her neck, near the edge of the bed. Her dark hair was splayed everywhere in a huge mess. Her eyes were open, an arm was dangling off the edge, spilling out from under the blankets. Exposed flesh, marred with old exposed scars.
Harry started for her quickly. "Evelyn-"
"Hey, w-what are you doing in here?" Hannah Abbott burst out, flushing and jumping up from her bed in pajamas - a short nightdress of silk. "You don't just walk in here, you know. If you wanted something you-"
"I need to make sure my friend is okay - alright?" Harry retorted, undeterred.
Hannah blinked at him, flushing ever more. "W-well, you still shouldn't just...you could have asked any of us to check on her!" But she cast a worried look at Evelyn, all the same. Her eyes roamed down Evelyn's exposed arm, and widened at the sight of it.
"None of you know her well enough to know how she's doing or not," Harry countered, dropping to his knees at Evelyn's bedside. Doing his best to get on eye level with her, and reaching to take the hand of her dangling arm. "Hey, Evelyn...we've only got about ten minutes until breakfast, and another fifteen until our first classes start up here. What...what kind of day are we having here? Can you be up in time, or do you reckon you need some help?" he asked gently.
Evelyn blinked at him, after a solid twenty seconds.
Shit.
"Err- okay, okay...well...want me to stay with you for a while here?"
A minute, and her head nodded a couple of centimeters.
"Okay." Harry stood up, then went around her bed and laid down with her, reaching to stroke her hair.
"T-that's really romantic, you know..." Hannah stuttered, her eyes going wider and her blush intensifying to new heights.
"No it isn't," Harry said, exasperated. What was with everyone this year thinking they were being romantic? "She's struggling really badly with some stuff, and I'm just helping her deal with it. Got it?"
"That's still romantic," another girl chimed in - Rochelle Haller - with a little giggle as she held her blankets up over her front - presumably because, as Harry had seen of her, she was wearing nothing but undergarments.
"No, it's not," Harry maintained, not even looking at her. "If you're not going to do anything to help her, could you leave us alone, please?"
"You're the one who waltzed into our dorm," Megan Jones snapped out, crossing her arms as she sat on her bed. "Why don't you get out - and take her with you?"
"Because she wouldn't appreciate being moved like that," Harry sighed. "Would any of you?"
"Whatever," Megan huffed. "Just keep your eyes away from me."
"Right, yeah - the last thing I care about is any of you like that," Harry retorted, rolling his eyes. The words, sarcastic and rolling off his tongue as they were, surprised even himself. He had a moment of clarity, though, self-reflection, and realized his biology was now playing a part in his thoughts of late - for sure - even if he didn't want it to. Just like his mother had said, in that talk of hers. Well, aware or not, Harry knew the words were somehow true: he wasn't really interested in these other girls the way he was Evelyn. Not attracted to any of them. Definitely not. And this wasn't even the time, or the point.
"Excuse me? I have more than that little-" Megan started furiously, looking offended.
"I don't care," Harry stressed.
Megan growled, then jumped to her feet, grabbed clean robes, and stalked out of the room with her wand in hand.
Rochelle left soon after, holding her robes in front of herself like a sheet - and then awkwardly holding it behind her own backside as she passed Harry, and presented said backside to him. Harry just shook his head at her and resisted the urge to laugh.
Hannah offered a stammering, squeaky, "I h-hope she's okay!" and fled the dorm room as well.
Leaving Harry and Evelyn alone at last.
Blissfully, for both of them.
But...
"More so for you," Harry told Evelyn with a laugh. "That was pretty annoying, huh? Weird, too. It's all quiet in here now, though. You can make it through the day, Evelyn. I'll be here to help you, every second of it. Whatever you need."
"Yes..." Evelyn murmured, surprising him. "I know..."
Harry pushed her messy dark hair behind her ear, continuing to caress her. "Are you going to brush this before we start the day, or do you want me to do it now?"
A silence. Then- "You'd better do it. Sit me up..."
"Okay."
"T-thanks..." came the choked reply, single and simple. "I- can't."
"I know," he said soothingly, grabbing her shoulders and helping her up against the headboard. "It's fine, alright? It's all fine. We can do this. Err, where'd you put your brush? Trunk or nightstand?" Did you even unpack last night?
"Trunk..."
Didn't unpack, then. Evelyn... "Okay." he said simply.
Harry patted her arm and hopped off her bed, going to open up her trunk. He dug around till he found her hairbrush (ignoring the sights and touching of hands to undergarments that had him blushing hard), then returned to her on the bed. He sat with her, and she naturally leaned her head forward as she did, helpfully for him.
He turned her around so her back was to him, threaded and took her long dark hair strands in hand, beginning to brush at the bottoms with his utmost gentleness and precision.
Evelyn still winced every now and again, but otherwise she sat silent and still as death. Or a doll.
Harry still felt compelled to apologize every single time it happened, and to pay even more attention to his work with her than ever. He just felt so awful, even if he knew Evelyn wouldn't hold it against him - never had, in his two years of doing this for her. And Harry had gotten leagues better at it, after he had once gone to his mother and tentatively asked if he could practice on her and her hair. His mother had been happy to let him, and to instruct him on method and means. She had even spent long hours teaching him all kinds styles, to be done by hand and with hairstyling spells, and had praised him for his studiousness in regards to all things hair-related.
Little snags or not, Evelyn always seemed to like this treatment from Harry. She had even confessed to Harry once, early on, that sitting with him and having him do this for her reminded her of when her dad had done the same when she was little - when the man had first entered her life. A voice of quiet pain, and longing and fondness intermixed had voiced this thought.
Harry was happy to do it for her now, at any rate.
"You know," he spoke to her as he brushed her hair. "Susan might not want to be your friend anymore - h-hasn't been, for a long time now - but Tamara still wants to be. She feels really bad about not seeing you, not being there for you. She's just scared, and confused. But...she doesn't want to be that way anymore. She still likes you, she still wants to be with you."
Evelyn's head moved under his hands. "She does...?"
"Yeah. Could you...accept her apology? She is really sorry. She told me herself, not ten minutes ago."
A sigh. "Sure...alright."
"Great. Good." Harry stroked her back and moved to attend to the hair falling down Evelyn's left side. "Susan was wrong - you do deserve friends still. You need friends now more than ever, honestly! I hope you didn't...I mean..."
Evelyn nodded.
"Good," Harry repeated firmly.
After finishing up with brushing her, Harry ran into a new snag with Evelyn.
Mainly, the fact that she just fell straight backwards onto her bed as soon as he'd moved from behind her, and stared blankly up at the high ceiling.
"Look, we're going to miss breakfast at this rate. You need to eat. Can you please get dressed? Or...d-do you need me to help you with that?" Harry pressed on determinedly. He had never before had to help her with getting dressed - that was a job left to the Healers, and caretakers. But if she needed the help, just to make it to her classes today...he couldn't let her miss them. He couldn't let this- Evelyn had to go. He'd help her go, however he had to!
Harry knew her, though, and he knew from experience at the hospital that if left like this, on a day like this, Evelyn was not going to move a literal inch in her bed for another twelve hours. She was going to do nothing. She couldn't do anything.
But this time, Harry had to help her do something. She had to get to her classes, she was at school again. She had things to do now.
And Harry also knew that once Evelyn did get moving, she tended to keep moving, at least. Like riding a bike; once you pushed it and started pedaling, it went on forward on its own power.
Harry just...had to get her to move.
Evelyn blinked at nothing.
Harry stamped down on his impatience, breathing easy. He reached for her, touching her arm. "Evelyn...I can help you, we can get this done. Come on. You know you at least need to make it to breakfast," he tried, switching tactics. "How about breakfast? Just that. We'll get you there."
Evelyn pursed her lips, and nodded once.
"Okay. So- so- to do that- you need to get dressed. Can you do that? Or- do you want help? It's just us in here, and I'm your best friend, and I've always helped you. I can help with this too. It's not a big deal. Not between us, is it? I've- seen more than enough of you before," Harry said gently. He had seen her pretty much naked before, though of course in a less than appealing context - a time of scars and blood, laying out on a white bed stained with red, muttering to herself about wanting to die already, that she deserved it for all she'd done...and even once asking Harry to help her with it...
"Help..." she murmured, the word emerging strangled.
"Okay. I'll help." Harry took a breath, nodding to her. He helped her sit up again, putting hand to her upper back. "What do you- what do you want to start with here? Top or- bottoms?"
"Top..."
"Okay." Harry told himself firmly that he was helping her, that she needed this - that it wasn't as if he hadn't seen anything she had before; and he'd seen his mother before, too, and she had, well, more. He helped her with her nightshirt, pulling it off of raised arms. The second he had, Evelyn dropped her arms to her sides like a puppet with cut strings. He patted her back again - flushed a little as he realized it was all bare skin now. But he persevered, over his own feelings, for her. Wasn't the context or the time, he reminded his body firmly.
"Okay, can you- can you do the bottoms on your own?" He asked, almost pleading with her mentally to say yes on this one. His mother's talk was proving true on another thing: his body seriously wasn't on the same page as his mind right now.
Evelyn looked at him, turning her head with what must have been sheer force of unimaginable will. Harry might've imagined a spark in her dark eyes, and a miniscule twitch of a ghost of a smile on those lips of hers. "I think."
"Okay. Great! Just- do that. I'll- you know-" Harry turned around quickly, putting his back to her back. "I'm still right here with you."
Rustling and shuffling. A long, painful five minutes passed.
Then, silence.
Stillness on the bed.
Harry risked a glance back. "Okay, so- you got that sorted out?"
"Yes...I need my robes now..."
That was a lot better already, Harry thought. He pulled her robes from her trunk, then hastily snatched up her pile of pajamas on the floor and threw them into the trunk for good measure. Just - that extra bit of help for her. She'd left them there, and who knew when she would have gotten around to moving them herself?
Evelyn asked him to robe her, so Harry did (keeping his eyes anywhere but her body, which was bare save for underwear). Then, he helped her with what she had told him numerous times was the worst part of her morning routine: socks.
She lay with her legs over the side of the bed, and Harry crouched down to help her with these finishing touches, grabbing her left ankle lightly in hand. All up and down the length of her leg, it was discolored, furrowed flesh, with patches and segments misshapen and shrunken. Pure black, in some spots. On her foot, her left pinky toe was completely missing, and so was a large portion of her big toe, and half of the middle one.
Harry had seen it all before, the past two years - but, admittedly, never this up close and personal. Never with his face in it, never actually holding a leg of hers right in his hand. He had never had to help her like this before, though, again.
He was acutely aware of the...feeling of her flesh. The mounds and bumps, the irregularities, the canals and valleys. The texture of it all was so...foreign to any normal, healthy skin he knew. Even his mother's scars, even Evelyn's scars...this was a whole other level. It was all...all...
Harry brushed his fingers across her deformed, missing toes, a bout of intimate curiosity overtaking him for a brief instant.
Evelyn took a breath, and her foot seized in his hand. Her toes twitched, giving varying levels of effort and movement.
"S-sorry, sorry!" Harry stammered, glancing up at her. "Did that hurt you, or-"
"It didn't hurt. It felt...nice." Evelyn herself sounded curious. Wondering.
"Well...good!" Harry hastily - but still carefully - put her sock into place. Gave her foot a pat and set it down, before picking up the other. Her right leg was as bad as the other; this foot was missing most the length of every toe, little nubs left, blackened and shriveled.
"Can you touch my toes again? Touch these ones..." Evelyn voiced quietly. "I want to know if it even...like the other ones. I've never had anyone..." She trailed off, her voice pained and her cheeks flushed.
"Your dad never-?"
"My dad never made me feel..." Evelyn cut herself off again. "Just touch them."
"Okay, yeah. Sure." Harry told himself that any response from her, any dialogue and interaction was encouraging. And needed to be encouraged itself. She needed to be moving - talking could be optional (and usually was, with her). He focused on the foot he was holding awkwardly, and just as awkwardly ran his fingers along the ends of her nubs. He brushed over the tops of them. They wriggled and curled. "Do you- feel that?"
"Yes...it's nice, Harry. Thanks."
"Sure - you're welcome." Harry paused. "So- we only have one sock to go here. Then we can get you to breakfast."
Evelyn lifted her head, briefly braced herself on elbows, and smiled down at him. "Alright. You're right; I do need to eat. The Healers are always telling me that, too..."
"Yeah, they do," Harry agreed.
Evelyn let herself drop, and Harry felt his heart drop too.
But that smile stayed on her face, so that was...really good.
Harry completed his task and let her transfer herself into her hoverchair, all on her own. He stuffed her bag full of books, parchment and quills, and hung it over the back of her chair.
Finally, they were off - out of the girls' fourth year dorm, out into the common room.
It was empty, save for three older students who were at a table, wrapped up in some heavy textbook reading.
Harry and Evelyn left the common room together, on their way to the Great Hall.