A/N: Sorry for posting this later than usual. I had to do my editorial before I could do anything else on the PC. Yep, am the Managing Editor of our school paper. But I like writing fanfics so much more than doing the job! And I am suffering an extreme condition of laziness at the moment. R&R this chapter peepz! And I'm kinda missing the other peepz who reviewed the previous chapters. Only three people responded last chapter. Are you guys all right? You better review or I might get disheartened and discontinue this fic! Nope, it's not black mail. It's just the condition of my existence in the site... Hahah! R&R, 'right? To last chapter's reviewers…

To Cubster: I don't really get your reaction, is that positive or negative? Thanks for reviewing! Review this one as well!

To Mandrin Orange: Do you want to bite off Draco's nose because he acted badly, or because you're jealous? Hahah! R&R gurL!

To tuulia: I'm not Japanese, I just like their culture. I'm flattered that you think I am! Your language is not crappy. Who said so? Last year of school, so you're in college? Germany is one of the few countries I want to visit when I get the money! Please keep the R&R going!

By the way, sorry abou the typos and grammas in this chapter and as well as in others because I'm in a sorta tight schedule so I don't have the time top reread and re-edit everything. And as I've said way back in the first chapter, I think, I don't have a beta. You can just tell me my errors and I'll correct them, 'right? Thanks guys! R&R!

Chapter 12: Wrist Cut

Harry lunged forward and threw Malfoy off of Rose. He was shaking in rage that he was not able to push off Malfoy with the force he actually intended.

He wanted Malfoy to slam hard against the opposite wall. He wanted him to cower at Harry's strength. But all Malfoy did was stagger after Harry's lame try.

"Screw you, Malfoy!" Harry yelled, his voice shaking with so much anger. "And you accused me!"

Malfoy only smirked. Harry's insides burned with rage. He started towards Malfoy, but he felt another sudden chill; Rose's hand was on his arm. He felt his teeth chatter with the cold.

"Harry, don't," said Rose. Harry placed his hand on her holding wrist and pulled her hand off from his arm. "What?"

"Nothing," Harry responded, shaking his head as he recovered from the effect. He had to find out what was causing this soon. "What – what were you – " Harry stammered, regaining his rage. Rose seemed not bothered by the fact that Malfoy had openly tried to, Harry hated to use the term, rape her.

"'S'not like I can't – " Rose started.

"Don't tell me you liked it!" Harry suddenly found himself yelling at Rose. Rose looked stunned for a moment, and then she sneered.

"Don't gimme tha' damn temper of yours, get me?" she said. "Wasn't sayin' in the note I needed your help, for Pete's sake. You're tryin' to say I knew what was comin'."

"I don't follow, all right," Harry said in his best calm. He turned back to Malfoy, who was sitting on the floor, listening to their conversation. "But I need to deal with this idiot first."

"I said don't." Rose gave him a sharp knock on the head.

"Ow! What was that for!"

"Let's go."

Harry went into the chill again and vaguely felt himself being steered around corridors. His brain tried to tell his body to hold on to Rose, or tell her to let go of him, but his body was too numb to follow.

"Sit," Rose said suddenly, like a trainer to her dog. Harry did not move.

Rose pushed her down hard on the ground. Harry stretched his hands to break his fall and felt grass.

"Where… are we?" he muttered, able to speak now since Rose had let go of her.

"Op'n your eyes, ya'lready have four," he heard her reply irritatedly.

The view in front of him was breathtaking. Open land stretched out in front of him in all directions. Endless grass glimmering in the afternoon sun. Blue sky fell behind as backdrop. He looked up at Rose who was standing beside him.

"Where are we?"

"I dunno."

"What?"

"It's a hidd'n place here at Bridgework. Few students know 'bout it. I don't ev'n know what it's called. It good nonetheless."

Harry thought "good" was a grave understatement.

"This place is… so peaceful… Why's it here?"

"What d'you mean why's it here?"

Harry shrugged. What he felt about the place was could not be expressed in words. He wanted to stay here. He wanted to rest for a while. Yes, perhaps he wanted to rest. Rest from work, from school, from life…

He looked at Rose. She was smirking again.

"What?"

"Thought this'd cheer ya up, little boy," she bent down and ruffled his hair, like a boy treated with an early Christmas present.

Harry felt the cold in his head again, more like the tingling sensation one felt when water trickled down overhead. Harry grabbed her hand.

"I think ya got the wrong idea 'bout earlier," Rose said as she sat down beside Harry. "Didn't like it, 'right?"

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"T's jus' that I wen' through far graver things than that, that what Draco did earlier can only make me laugh now."

Harry was alarmed. Rose, seeing his face, laughed.

"I've not been sexually abused, Harry Potter," she said. "Ya green-minded, four-eyed – "

"Okay, okay, I get your point. Enough of the insults. Exactly what graver things have you been through, Ms. Ashworth? Would you care to elaborate?"

"Ever got punished for doin' the right thing?"

Harry recalled his adventures at Hogwarts for the past six years. Getting points off from Gryffindor was a punishment for trying to save something in the dead of the night. Getting detention was a punishment for standing up to a bullying professor. He nodded.

"Ya get detention an' demerits, don't ya?" Harry nodded. "Am talkin' 'bout real punishment here. Like, getting' your arms lashed for tryin' to fight off a bullyin' classmate."

"You did that?"

"Yeah, thrice."

Rose spread her arms so that Harry could see. Across her two pale slender arms were straight scars that looked as if they had been there for years. Shallow, yet distinguishable. The scars were impossible to count. Harry looked up at Rose, but she smiled.

"What?"

"Are you serious?"

"Got these ev'rytime I shot back at Lair for tryin' to bully me."

"Who allowed this?"

"Make a guess."

"Hatori-sensei?"

"Clever of ya."

"But don't the other teachers know about this?"

"They do. But they're afraid of Hatori. An' Eugene doesn't know, if it's that. She mostly deals with the outside concerns of Bridgework. Hatori's the Deputy Headmaster."

"He personally sees to it that you got lashed?"

"Me an' ev'ryone else who crosses'is line."

"Why don't you fight him?"

"You never tried to kill Severus, did you?"

"What – that's out of the question. Snape never tried to kill me slowly by lashing."

"Yeah, whatever," Rose said with a heavy breath. She laid down on the grass. Harry turned to look at her.

"So what did you want to talk about?"

"Severus," she replied simply.

"What about him?"

"Did he show any sign at all, before actually killin' Dumbledore, that he was evil?"

Wrong question, Harry thought. Any sign that he was evil? The more appropriate question was if Snape showed any sign that he was good.

"I dunno. I simply disliked him for being mean to me. But Dumbledore trusted him, and for everyone, if Dumbledore trusted someone, he was trustworthy enough."

"Enlighten me, Harry. How mean was my godfather?"

She reached her arm out, silently asking for Harry to pull her upright so that she could listen better while he discussed. He took her hand, but did not pull her. He had spotted something.

Rose's scars were pronounced, implying pain from every angle. But Harry saw an unusual scar. A much thicker one. It looked out of place, different, compared to the rest. It looked intended, recent, self-inflicted.

Rose suddenly pulled her hand away and got up by herself. She looked at Harry, fear and alarm materializing in her blue eyes. Harry did not know what to think. Was he imagining that the scar was different? Or was it, in fact, Rose's own doing?

Rose tried to get up, but Harry pulled her back down on the hand with the unusual scar. She stumbled back down, and Harry turned her wrist over. There it was, standing out.

"Have you – You're not trying to – Are you?" Harry could not get his words out completely. He hated to think his suspicion was real.

Rose looked away, guilt evident in her eyes.

"Rose? You tried to cut yourself?"

Silence.

"And this looks fresh. Was this the reason why you weren't able to get back in time? Did you cut yourself before going back here? Was this why it took you a week before coming back?" Harry asked, wishing she'd tell her that it was the reason, but it was not self-inflicted.

Harry realized he cared much more for Rose than he thought.

Rose remained silent.

"Rose…"

Tears silently flowed down Rose's cheeks. Harry hugged her.

"Shhh…"

"'Nother thing… I wanted to talk to ya 'bout…" she said in between gasps and tears.

"What is it?" Harry asked, trying to sound comforting. He ran his hands up and down Rose's back. "I'm all ears, Rose. You can talk to me."

"Why d'we need to save ev'ry damn wizard we don't ev'n know?" Rose said in a shaking voice.

Harry understood her. He had been wondering the same thing. Back at Hogwarts, he had been wondering why he, of all people, was the one destined to defeat Voldemort. Yes, there was the prophecy, but it wasn't enough.

So what if there was a prophecy?

It was a mere prediction of what would come.

It did not give the reason as to why anything would come.

A/N: Tell me what you think about this one. Chill! \m/ punks not dead!