Story Type: Standard (up to 3,000 words)

House: Hufflepuff

Class: Potions

Prompt: (Pairing) Millicent Bullstrode/Harry Potter, (Weather) Rainy

Word Count: 2211

Disclaimers/triggers: Foul language

This standard did not want to be written. I started with a completely different idea than where I ended up but the story calls the shots so this is what it is. Hopefully, I'll manage to write what I wanted for next round. However, that's not to say I'm not satisfied. Male-female friendships deserve to be cherished (especially with all the "a GiRl AnD a BoY cAn'T bE fRiEnDs") and I'm actually very proud of how this came out. Hope you enjoy it too!

Big hug to Story Please and Yippie for the beta!

Harry was solemn as he walked into the Hospital Wing. Sirius' death had taken a toll on him but he needed to check on Hermione, as well as distract himself. She'd been the most injured of everyone that had been present at the Ministry and Madam Pomfrey had insisted she stay in a magical coma for the past week to give her body a chance to heal up. Today though she was supposed to wake up and he needed to be by her side.

The sky rumbled as he passed by the Courtyard. Summer was approaching fast but the weather was doing him a favor. He didn't think he could function if the world was cheery while he grieved for the only semblance of family he'd ever had.

His dark thoughts had him distracted enough as he walked into the ward that he didn't notice the figure standing above Hermione's bed. The girl was large and imposing, with broad shoulders and an intimidating air about her. However, her movements were careful, hesitant, as if she was unsure of herself despite her bold aura.

"Step away, Bullstrode," Harry called out as soon as he noticed her, recognising the Slytherin bully easily. He gripped his wand tight by his side but he didn't raise it yet. Even though he was itching for a fight to take some of his pain out on someone, he knew it wouldn't look good.

Millicent turned to face him, recoiling from Hermione's side as if the unconscious girl would burn her. "Potter," she muttered, seemingly at a loss for words. The shock was clear on her face; it was probably the first time Harry saw her without a scowl on her face. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for my best friend. Now step away, I won't say it again." He could hear the harshness in his tone, the barely contained anger. He was tired and hurting, and fighting Millicent seemed like the perfect idea.

Only, Millicent wasn't in a fighting state. As they stared each other down, the wizard noticed the girl's fingers were bandaged and, as she moved away from the cot, it was clear she was limping on her left side. As if in a flash, he remembered the altercation in Umbridge's office and how they had fought off the Inquisitorial Squad. Back then, he'd been too consumed with worry about Sirius to care about the Slytherins but he slowly realized the other kids hadn't simply shaken it off.

"Did I—… Were you—?"

"Was this a gift from your precious friends? Please, Potter, spare me the pity party. No need to start acting like you care about us now," Millicent huffed, clearly managing to gather herself. Even though Harry had grown since second year, she was still slightly taller than him and, as she tried to roll her shoulders back and stand up straight, he was reminded of how scary the witch could actually be.

He wasn't scared though. He was tired. So tired. He wasn't even sixteen yet and he felt like an old man. He'd fought so much and he'd lost so much and he was so tired of caring. They were kids and they were both dealt bad hands and there was no point in pretending this was more than that.

"You're right, I don't. But it still wasn't right. None of this is right," Harry sighed and dropped in a chair by Hermione's side. Millicent regarded him curiously, leaning back against the wall for support. The silence felt weird and tense but he was too exhausted to care.

Thankfully, Madam Pomfrey appeared, the rumbling thunder announcing the matron's presence with a more dramatic flare than either teen expected. The elderly witch was very visibly cross with them, a direct contrast with her usually sweet disposition.

"Miss Bullstrode, you need to get back to bed immediately. Your knee still has not set, I thought I was clear that you were to rest up before I discharged you. And you, Mister Potter. I should have your head for all the ruckus you caused but let's just stick to waking up Miss Granger, shall we?"

As Madam Pomfrey led Millicent back to her bed on the other side of the ward, Harry thought he saw regret in the girl's eyes as she nodded goodbye at him. He'd never cared to know the other girl, easily cataloguing her as a prejudiced bully, and he'd been content with that. But, at that moment, he felt like they had come to an understanding. It felt like they'd connected, somehow. For the first time in a while, Harry felt seen - and by a Slytherin, no less.

Next time Harry met Millicent, the girl was fully back to her intimidating self. Even though her leg was healed and her fingers were set, there was something in her eyes that gave the boy pause. He'd been coming back from watching Malfoy and she'd been coming out of the library when their paths had crossed.

Everyone was feeling the effects of the brewing war and Bulstrode was no exception. Bags under her eyes, a constant frown and some weight loss that was visible on her bulky frame. Her eyes reminded Harry of that day in the Hospital Wing, that regret he'd thought he'd seen. He could see it again, only this time it was for a brief second before her scowling shield went up again.

"Glad to see your knee is well," Harry muttered before the girl could speak. He knew she was about to cuss him out, he'd seen that defence mechanism used against him enough times by now to recognise it instantly.

Millicent gawked at him and, inwardly, Harry chuckled. She was no Crabbe or Goyle, she could actually hold a verbal sparring match , so it was fun to leave her speechless.

"Sod off with your fake sympathy, Potter," she seethed, growling at him like a feral animal. "It's all rainbows and sunshine for you hero kids but you're screwed like the rest of us."

"I never said I wasn't," Harry bit back, suddenly pissed off out of nowhere. "You purebloods are the ones acting like you're all better than the rest of us."

"Oh please, Potter. As if you're not Dumbledore's favourite. As if you aren't able to do whatever you like with no consequences because you're the damned Chosen One. You can act humble all you like but we both know you're more privileged than us," Millistrent retorted, shoving him away as she walked past him.

"And by the way," she called out as she left, not bothering to even turn back to look at him, "I'm a half-blood. So who's the prejudiced one now?"

Harry gawked at her as she walked away. He hadn't been aware of Bulstrode's heritage. If he was being honest with himself, he'd judged her by the company she kept and just assumed who she was without a second thought. As he finally headed back to Gryffindor Tower, he rubbed at his scar absentmindedly. Was he really as prejudiced as they were?

The battle was over. A light drizzle had started as everyone worked to gather the injured and the bodies, as if Mother Nature herself wanted to wash away the blood and the death of the day.

Harry had barely managed to slip away from everyone. He truly appreciated the importance of what they had achieved and people's need to celebrate the end of an era of misery but he needed to be on his own. He needed the space to process what had happened, to realise that it was finally over.

The kitchens were thankfully empty. The elves were assisting Madam Pomfrey with tending to the wounded and no one would think to look for him here. The tortured boy scooted up on one of the long tables and laid back, staring at the ceiling and enjoying the one moment of peace and quiet.

Peace and quiet that was interrupted by the clanking of pots and pans falling to the floor. Harry shot up, adrenaline still guiding him, and sent a quick Expelliarmus to the source of the noise, getting mentally ready for another duel. There was no hostile movement though as a wand flew into his hand, only a girl curled up in on herself and whimpering like a frightened dog.

"H-hello? Are you hurt?" he asked, never taking his wand away from her though. For all he knew, this could be a trap. Death Eaters would not hesitate to use an innocent student to ambush him and avenge their Lord.

"P-please don't hurt m-me. Please, I-I don't want to d-die," the girl cried and Harry's brows furrowed. It was hard to recognise the voice, considering he was more used to hearing it in loud and menacing tones, but there was no doubt as to who this student was.

"Bulstrode? Millicent, hey, it's okay," he called out, holstering his wand and raising his palms up. "It's okay, Millicent, it's me, Harry. Have… Have you been here long?"

The Slytherin looked up as he slowly approached, tears streaming down her cheeks and eyes bloodshot red. The rain had evidently picked up into a brutal storm as thunder roared strong enough to shake the castle. Harry and Millicent both jumped at the noise, though the witch was clearly more affected as she started sobbing loudly and pleading for her life.

"Millicent, look at me," Harry tried again, easily recognising the process of a panic attack and knowing he needed to ground her back in the present. "I am Harry, your classmate. I'm not going to hurt you. The battle is over, okay? It's all over now. No one is going to hurt you."

As he finally made it to her side and reached out to touch her gently, Millicent jumped in his arms and grasped his shirt desperately, as if it was the only thing that would keep her from slipping into insanity. Feeling awkward but also sympathetic of the witch, Harry stiffly put his arms around her shoulders and patted her back in a reassuring manner, letting her cry all her fear out in her own time.

"T-they l-lo— They l-locked me in the b-bathrooms. S-said I-I didn't deserve to b-be safe. T-that no one w-wou— That no one would miss me!" Millicent finally hiccuped after a while, once her sobs had died down to quiet whimpers. "I-I managed to g-get out b-but…. E-everyone was fighting and I-I didn't know where else to go."

Harry huffed and shook his head, righteous anger overtaking him once more. Of course in desperate situations the prejudiced bastards would prey on anyone they deemed beneath them, even if that was their own family. He knew Millicent had been a bully and played the same part many times with him and his friends but no one deserved this. They were stuck in the middle of a war they had been forced into.

Wasn't that the case for everyone though? Had he chosen to be a pawn? Had Hermione chosen to be discriminated against? Had Ron chosen to lose his brother? Gryffindor, Slytherin, at the end of the day they were all parts of a game they were not prepared to play. Made soldiers by the people who were supposed to protect them from all this.

"It was very smart coming here, Millicent. I'm sorry they failed you when you needed them. But it's over now. We are done. You can trust me," Harry said, tightening his arms around the girl slightly. At that moment, he vowed to himself that no other kid would go through something like this if he could prevent it. No other innocents would suffer.

At some point, Millicent pulled back but the two kids sat together side by side for a long time. They could hear the rain getting fainter above them, the soft sound lulling them into a much needed sense of comfort.

"I died, you know," Harry broke the silence after what could have been mere minutes or whole hours. "Dumbledore knew all along. I was raised as a pig for slaughter and everyone acted as if that was okay. I died and came back and it's all so stupid!"

He thought Millicent had started crying again but, as he turned to face her, he realised her shoulders were shaking with barely suppressed laughter. He wanted to be offended and upset but the absurdity of the whole situation — of having fought in an actual war before he'd even graduated — hit him suddenly and he couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him.

The Slytherin witch looked up at that and, as soon as their eyes met, they both burst out laughing. The rain had cleansed their bodies and the laughter would cleanse their souls as they fell back, clutching their stomachs as tears of joy filled their eyes. They laughed so hard Harry thought his heart might stop, until it was all out of their systems and they finally managed to calm down.

Once Harry got his breath back under control, he stood up, reaching out to his former bully to help her up. "Come on. It's time to go back. We've got a world to change."