Lana didn't know what to make of Harry. At all. He had been sent by this Dumbledore guy, so how much could he really care? But it didn't sound like Harry had done what Dumbledore wanted him to do. "Help me?" Lana of course didn't mind how Harry had talked to her. He hadn't come near her, obviously knowing she didn't want him to. And he didn't ask her annoying questions, prying into her life. He also didn't act as if he was forced to do it. Lana had had the impression he didn't know what to say. It was okay though. She liked it. And she got it. She knew she couldn't understand him completely, but she got what it felt like to have no one there, no one to…connect with.

But he had friends. Surely they were a comfort, right? She groaned and rolled over. She heard someone return to their room next door, and crash on the bottom bunk. She wondered if it was Harry, and then wondered why he would go to bed so early. She couldn't here anything from the room to be sure it was him. She could on the other hand, hear the clock in the room. She could hear it incessantly ticking, as it slowly became more maddening to Lana. Why was its sound so clear in her head? It was driving her crazy and she didn't know why.

Then, it stopped.

Lana heard a clunk as it hit the wall. Harry must have thrown it. Now she had nothing to think about except for the growing thirst and hunger pains she had had since she had gotten there. She was used to being hungry. Thirst was never too much of an issue though. She never usually went 2 days without water. She was surprised she hadn't started hallucinating…

She got out of her bed, and opened the door. She tried to find her way to the kitchen, and succeeded. She carefully poured herself a glass of water, and made her way back, feeling through the darkness. She heard voices from the front hall, but she ignored them. She didn't really care what they were saying, as it might very well be about her. She hurried up the stairs, and barely made it two feet on the landing before suddenly feeling dizzy. She fell to her knees and the glass of water crashed to the floor, shattering. She sat there trying to get her head together when Harry came…


Harry had heard her go downstairs, and then heard her return upstairs.

And then he heard her collapse.

He sprang from his bed quickly, and flung open the door, to see Lana on the ground, staring at the shards before her, candlelight glinting off her eyes and the glass. He walked over and she looked up. It was the first time Harry had ever seen emotion in her eyes, and it was fear.

"Are you mad?" She asked quietly. He shook his head in response. "No, we just need to get this cleaned up. What happened?" She didn't respond and returned to staring at the glass. She picked up a piece that had obviously come from the rim, one side smooth and the other side sharp. She turned it over and around in her hands. She seemed fascinated with it, the way the light reflected off it. She closed her hand lightly over it, making sure its edges didn't penetrate her delicate hands. Harry watched for a moment before going to a closet and grabbing a broom and dustpan. He quickly swept it up and deposited it into the wastebasket. He also mopped the water up as best as he could. He made his way back to her, where she had managed to stand up, however weakly, and she was now leaning against the wall. He noticed her bare feet, and said, "You should probably stay clear of this area, or at least wear shoes of some sort. I don't imagine I got every single piece, so there may be a chance of getting your feet cut…" She nodded, almost dazedly. Harry still wondered why she had collapsed. He thought back on it.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

She nodded. "Just wait a moment, I'll get you something." He descended the stairs, and came up moments later with a glass of milk, a sandwich, and several fresh strawberries. Her eyes widened. It was the closest thing to a full square meal she had really ever had.

He handed it to her. "Thank you." She muttered.

Lana was shocked that he had gone to the trouble of getting her the food. If she had broken a glass in her old house, it would mean pain. A glass was more important than her there.

She had retreated to her room, leaving Harry to scratch his head, once again. She just wasn't ready to trust anyone yet.