Harriet woke up early on the first day of the term. Last night had been the first night since she was admitted that she got to sleep in her own bed in Gryffindor Tower. She wouldn't have believed it, but apparently, she had gotten rather used to the stiff beds of the Hogwarts Hospital Wing, and so she found that the night she spent in her four-poster bed passed very fitfully. She tried lying still with her eyes firmly shut, she tried counting sheep, till she had a teeming flock. She tried counting Hippogriffs instead-until she realized that Ron had probably been lying about that being a Wizarding Custom-she tried, finally, to smother herself with her pillow, in the hopes that maybe the lack of air would make her black out—all in vain.

She was still awake, later that night, when she heard the curtains of her bed slowly drawn open, and felt a figure loom over her, and heard a deep outward breath, like a sigh of relief, before the curtains were slowly and quietly shut once again. She rolled over just in time to see a bushy-haired silhouette climb back into its bed and get under the covers. Hermione had come to check on her, she realized, probably fearing another suicide attempt, probably fearing that Harriet had already killed herself in her own bed.

It was morning now, and now that she was up, Harriet decided to return the favour. Really, the whole thing annoyed her. She understood, sort of, where everyone was coming from, but it was sort of hard to empathize when the whole thing was a mystery to her. Where did Hermione get off, exactly? Sneaking up to her bed and looking her over…Like she was the kind of hopeless lunatic to require night-time surveillance. She stepped up to Hermione's bed and pulled the curtains open, then set down beside the other girl as light as could be.

Hermione lay asleep. Her head lay sidewise, spreading her wild hair all over her pillow and pulling the muscles of her neck to prominence…Now that Harriet was there, she could not exactly remember what 'returning the favour' had entailed. Just watching her lay in bed, squinting at her in annoyance? Maybe if she had a quill on hand she could draw Hermione a mustache…

Looking closer, Harriet saw that the Hermione's mouth hung very slightly open. At one time she might have put down to the other girl's overbite, but she had had that fixed last year.

Harriet leaned in a little closer to her sleeping friend, suddenly quite curious about her teeth. She found it hard to believe that Madam Pomfrey had shrunk the front two to be the exact same size as all her others. It was not that the nurse was incompetent, but it had to be hard to be ultra-precise while working at the discretion of your patient, who squinted down at a mirror while spellfire flew around them and their teeth tingled. They must still be slightly bigger than the others, she thought. Or perhaps Hermione had stopped the operation too late and now they were slightly smaller…

Harriet reached no conclusion either way. She instead grew quite captivated- no longer with Hermione's teeth, but with Hermione's lips. They were redder and fuller than she ever realized, now that she saw them up close. The way they parted was almost inviting. Harriet leaned in closer than ever, and realized she was close enough for a kiss…

Hermione stirred suddenly, and Harriet snapped back and hurried for her bed. But by the time she slammed down at its edge, it was apparent that the other girl was not actually waking up.

Harriet felt a self-sickened embarrassment well up in her, once the initial terror had worn off, which made it hard to sit still. She had wanted to kiss her friend while she was sleeping. She had wanted to kiss her friend-her friend who was another girl.

She looked around the dorm, suddenly paranoid that maybe one of the other girls was secretly awake and had seen the whole thing. Evidently, they had not, but she noticed a gradual increase in their stirring, and could see the sun just coming up through the window. They would be up soon, and she did not think she had the guts to look any of them in the eye after what she had wanted to do.

Harriet hurriedly threw on all the essential parts of her uniform, so that changing would not be a hassle later, and left the dorm quietly.

Getting outside proved to be the hassle instead. She thought she had gotten up earlier than anyone else in the castle, but apparently Hogwarts had a healthy population of early birds. And, just like any bird, they all jerked around and stared as she passed. She had realized that she become what they called a "controversial figure" from reading the newspapers, but now here was direct confirmation. It was hardly as if she had stopped everything in its tracks, but everywhere there was a stolen glance, everywhere a sneer and a snicker.

There were people in every hallway, people around every corner, and people coming up the stairs as she went down them, and all of them were united in silent contempt. Muttering and whispering and snickering and leering, and throwing their hands in front of their mouths before a proper laugh burst out. It was like trying to pass unscathed through a den of hyenas. She half expected to feel something grab at her leg.

By the time Harriet left the castle through the main door she was half running , and the burst into full sunlight dazzled her to a stop. She looked around her, as she started off dazedly across the grounds, feeling relief that she could see no one around. She was the only early bird that had decided to step outside, at least.

She slumped along, embarrassment bearing down on her hotter than the early morning sun. Public scrutiny like that was something she was used to, but in light of her behaviour that morning it felt strangely personal, and, if she had to admit it, quite deserved. Harriet did not like to linger on the fact that she liked girls. It made her feel like such a pervert, that the girls she slept with and roomed with excited her in that way. Enough that she might get into their beds and want to...

Harriet took her glasses off and tilted her head back, and closed her eyes, letting the sun wash over her. There was no point fretting about it, she just had to make sure she never tried it again. She was lucky then, she wouldn't have much time to sort out her sexual feelings or try to be a pervert anyway, as that walk through the lion's den reminded her. Voldemort was back, people thought she was crazy, and her close friends in particular thought she was some suicidal lunatic. Plus, she had OWLs to sit for this year.

She thought back, once again, to the night she apparently attempted suicide. She scoured her memory of the day, the week and the month leading up to that night—and once again came up with nothing. Did she do it because she was more torn up than she realized about what happened at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament? No, all of that made her terribly guilty, but it wasn't that. Did she do it because she was a lesbian? No, that was a long-standing problem, but never enough to attempt suicide. So what, did she sleepwalk into it? That was a hell of a sleepwalking accident then, most people just took a walk off a cliff.

Harriet fixed her gaze back in front of her, and was surprised by how quickly The Forbidden Forest was coming up. She had to put her glasses on, as she was sure her eyes were deceiving her. A hedge had come up, of wild looking roses, which was gradually winding its way seemingly around the whole forest, apparently on its way to seal it off. Her gaze travelled along the long, low wall of vegetation, until her eye was caught by a figure crouched at one end.

Harriet hesitated, wanting to avoid the other student, but then she noticed the girl's tall lithe figure, her long red hair, and realized it could only be one person.

"Morning Ginny." said Harriet, once she'd come within earshot

"Ah! Uh…Morning.." Ginny replied, snapping out of her crouch, and sweeping her hair out of her face with one hand. She seemed a little like she had been caught red-handed, doing something she shouldn't.

"Out for a walk too?"

"Yeah—yeah, and I couldn't help but notice these…"Ginny said, gesturing up and down the hedge of roses.

"Yeah, caught my eye too. Impossible for them not to, when it looks like they want to close off the Forbidden Forest." Harriet said. "I didn't figure the school would be so dedicated to growing roses."

Now that she saw them up close, Harriet noticed they were no ordinary roses. Yes, they looked like roses, but they were wilder, and fluffier looking somehow. The leaves were smaller and the petals more numerous. They looked pleasing to touch. She reached a hand out to feel one-

"Wait, don't!" Ginny cried, pulling Harriet's hand away. "You shouldn't touch those."

"I—"Harriet was almost alarmed at how tightly Ginny gripped her arm, "Why not?"

"Okay, I bet you're thinking that these are no ordinary roses. They aren't. These are called Stingroses."

"Stingroses…" Harriet repeated, realizing what she was getting at, and feeling glad she had been stopped.

"Yeah, It's like—Stinging Nettle maybe…" then she frowned, dissatisfied with her own description "No, my dad said it best—they sting like a dozen bees…"

"Blimey..."

Harriet glanced down at their hands. Ginny had still not let go after pulling them away from harm, but now she held them more casually.

Conversation slowed after that. Harriet realized that the two of them did not talk very much-they had no topics of conversation readily available between them, so she cast about for one, as they started walking, making their way up along the wall of Stingroses.

"When I first showed up—it looked like I scared you a little bit."

"Oh, hmm…yeah…" Ginny said, not meeting her eye.

"A bit jittery?"

"Well—the world situation is looking pretty grim. You never know what might happen…"

Harriet looked unconvinced.

"And of course I was thinking about the economy. Did you hear the Knut went down by another point?"

Harriet rolled her eyes.

Ginny's hesitation continued, until

"Ok, see—I thought you were Ron…"

"Ron?" Harriet chuckled "I didn't figure he could scare you."

"Well—I—he-doesn't scare me" Ginny seemed to struggle. She pointed at the hedge of Stingroses. "It's cause of these bloody things."

"See, these things were overgrowing the garden back home. So Dad got me and Ron to help him rip them out. I decided I wanted to keep them somehow, so kept them really close to myself after I ripped them out. Too close. So, then I went and fell right on top of them. And see, everyone thought that it was something like getting stung by too many bees, and they started panicking like I might die…" Her cheeks reddened as she recounted the story. "You should have seen them all scurrying around—bloody embarrassing."

"Well, I don't know, I think you're taking them for granted…"

Ginny scoffed.

"No, seriously." Harriet insisted, then she started to falter. "If people were so crazy about my wellbeing…"

"We are." Ginny cut in. "We are. That row in the Hospital Wing? All that was after everyone calmed down. It's lucky you took so long to wake up, really. If Mum could've had her hands on you within the first hour—"

"So all that secret spying they did on me this summer, do you think that was concern for my wellbeing, or just them protecting an asset against Voldemort?"

"Look-"

"Letting me compete in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, even though there was clearly foul play involved in getting me in, was that concern for my wellbeing?"

"I'm not-"

"And then I went and got Cedric killed, and the bastard who killed my parents tried to kill me—and after I got back no one believed me and I got shut up alone all summer—who cared for my wellbeing then?"

Silence reigned. Ginny let go of Harriet, and fidgeted her hands uncomfortably.

"Is that why you tried to-?"

"No, it's not."

"But you seem really—"

"I have no idea what happened that night" Harriet insisted for the umpteenth time. "And I'd rather not talk about it."

"Don't want to talk…" Ginny muttered, then suddenly looked at Harriet, eyes gleaming with something like solidarity.

"Yeah, I get that." She said "I'm sorry—if I pressed you. I'm a hypocrite—I for one should know that there are just some things it's a pain to talk about."

"Yeah…" Harriet said, surprised by the sudden quiescence. It sounded like Ginny had experience with things she didn't want to talk about. Harriet wondered…

"Oh! Blimey—you had to deal with this kind of thing after that mess with Riddle's diary, didn't you?"

"Are you sure you're okay? How badly did he hurt you? Are you sure you don't remember anything?" Ginny parroted in various croaky voices. "That last part especially, is what made me realize something was up with you."

"But you know," Ginny said after a while "Er…Let me be blunt. I believed you, mostly, but, er…you—you seem like someone who might kill themselves..."

"Ah, that's quite the vote of confidence then."

"No, I just mean, If my life had been like yours so far, I might have killed myself!"

Harriet sent her a hard stare.

"What I mean is—crikey—what I mean is-you've been through a lot. A lot more than many people ever have to deal with—and you… just take it all in. You bottle it up, and you fill the bottle till everything spills out. And it's easy to assume, that maybe everything spilled out that night…"

"Well it didn't." Harriet snapped "And I don't bottle things up."

"Whatever." Ginny said. "This is why it's better not to talk about it."

They stopped at Ginny's behest, to look at one particularly well-formed flower.

"I actually rather like them, if you can believe." Ginny said "I think they look pretty. And if you stop to smell them..."

Ginny reached out a hand, and before Harriet could stop her, clasped it around the flower of the Stingrose—to no apparent effect. She twisted and jerked the flower away from the plant, and it broke at the stem. She brought the flower up to Harriet's nose, holding it by the petals, instead of the bit of stem that stuck out of its bottom. Its smell was sweet but harsh, something like cinnamon.

"I've discovered that you can touch the flowers without getting hurt." she said. "And that makes sense, doesn't it? No insect would be able to pollinate it otherwise."

Ginny pulled the flower away from her, still gripping it gingerly by its petals. She finally let go of Harriet's hand, only to reach for Harriet's chest—where she pulled the pocket of Harriet's blouse wide, and dropped the flower into it. Now it was like she was wearing a corsage.

"Doesn't hurt, does it?"

"Well I've got a shirt on, that helps I suppose?"

"You could take them off and we might find out" Ginny grinned.

Harriet spluttered, and Ginny laughed.

Ginny suddenly took hold of Harriet's hand again.

"Let's get back to the castle. We're late for breakfast."

-

Harriet made her way across The Great Hall, this time decidedly ignoring any stares or whispers sent her way by the greater student body. She approached the Gryffindor Table, where Ron and Hermione had their heads together, apparently in heated debate. In a moment she caught their eye and they broke apart.

"Where were you?" Hermione hissed once Harriet got within hearing distance.

Harriet bristled at her tone

"Out." She said curtly, sitting down and reaching for a plate.

Hermione grabbed Harriet's wrist, staying her hand.

"Harriet…" she implored

Her eyes were earnest and worried. Her hand felt soft and warm on Harriet's skin. Harriet remembered shamefully what she had wanted to do that morning, and swallowed.

"I was out on the grounds."

"What for? So early in the morning?"

"I don't know… I just wanted to get out of the castle."

"And you were just out on the grounds?"

"Yes…do you think I could leave the school and still be back in time for breakfast? Look, you could ask Ginny. She was out there with me."

"Ginny?" Ron cut in, entering the conversation for the first time.

"Yeah."

"Did she…do anything?"

"Do what?"

Ron did not reply, but searched Ginny out along the table, and saw her sitting among her classmates—and glared daggers at her.

"So, if I ask her, she'll confirm what you said?" Hermione said

"Yes, she will." Harriet said, growing annoyed once again, despite everything

Hermione let go of her hand, looking self-conscious.

"Um, sorry if I'm…overbearing…" she said, fidgeting her hands "I…I worry about you…"

"Well," Harriet smiled wryly " If you could do your worrying after I've eaten, I think you'd have less to worry about…"

-

Ron ambushed Ginny in the halls after breakfast. He led her to an empty classroom and stood against the door to keep her in. Ginny stood by the window, not looking at him and hoping the conversation passed before she had to.

"Look, I've forgiven you…"

"Forgiven me…" Ginny murmured, trailing her finger along the dust on the windowsill.

"Yeah, I'm your brother. I have to."

Silence.

"You were out with Harriet this morning."

"Yes, I was." She admitted tonelessly.

"Well, I don't want you going out alone with her again."

Ginny glanced over her shoulder.

"And why not?"

Ron pushed himself off of the door, crossing the room slowly.

"Look, she's in a bad place. Even before this weird suicide thing she was.I think even you know how pent up she can be. And—I don't think you can be trusted."

Ginny turned and glared

"Can't be trusted…"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"That was a mistake."

"You call something like that a mistake?"

Ginny fixed her gaze at some point on the other end of the room.

"So what do you think I'm going to do to her anyway?"

"Don't start-"

"No, come on, tell me, what do you think I'll do?"

"Quit acting as if-"

"No, speak plainly-"

"I don't want you talking to her!" Ron erupted, right in her face." I don't want you alone with her, I don't want you going and acting like a pervert to her when she ought to be left alone!"

Silence hung heavy. If looks could kill, they would both be dead.

"Well I'm sorry big brother, but you can't make me do anything." Ginny finally said, pushing past him. "Harriet will decide for herself if she wants me around. And what we'll do when I'm around her. Now if you'll excuse me…"

She crossed the room, and she opened the door, and she closed it behind her without a second glance.