"How long has this been going on, dear?" Madam Pomfrey asked as she took in the scars on her left arm. Lavender didn't answer. All she wanted was to disappear. How on earth had this happened? Now everyone would know what a freak she was.

Madam Pomfrey turned as Prof. Dumbledore entered the room, but Lavender ignored him. The adults had a hurried, hushed discussion, and then it was her turn.

"Miss Brown, it has come to my attention that you are involved in a serious activity," Dumbledore said gravely with a stern look in his eyes. "I am afraid you will have to leave Hogwarts for a time. I have arranged for you to be transferred to Royal London Hospital."

That caught her attention, and Lavender turned to look at him for the first time. "Don't you mean St. Mungo's?" she asked.

"St. Mungo's is an institution for magical maladies and injuries. I'm afraid there's nothing magical about self-abuse. I will also be confiscating your wand, as it is unwise to allow a witch with such serious psychological issues to run loose among Muggles."

Lavender closed her eyes. Madam Pomfrey had already taken her wand, so there didn't seem anything else to say.

"Miss Brown," Dumbledore continued, "your parents will meet you at the hospital. They have, of course, been informed of your condition." He rose to leave.

"I do hope," he said, turning back, "that you use this time wisely and that you will soon rejoin us." And with that, he was gone. Lavender sighed. It could have been much worse. And then it got worse.

Arguing could be heard outside the door. There could be no mistake as to who was speaking: Granger and Weasley!

"You ARE going to talk to her," hissed Hermione in what was supposed to be a whisper.

"Are you mental?" Ron hissed back. "She broke up with me! It's not my fault!"

"Be a man, Ron, or I'll never speak to you again!" And with that, the door opened and in walked her former twu wuv, or more accurately, he was shoved stumbling into the room. Lavender pretended to be asleep.

"She's sleeping, I'll come back later." But Hermione had sealed the door behind him.

Ron pounded on the door. "Alohamora! Hermione! Come on!" he pleaded. Finally he gave up, turned around, and cautiously approached the bed with a look of severe discomfort.

"Lavender?" he asked tentatively.

"Get out."

"She won't let me." Ron was looking everywhere but in her eyes. "Lav…look…see, I'm sorry, okay? I know I hurt you, but…." He swore. "I never expected you to try to kill yourself."

Lavender snorted. "Is that what you think happened? I have news for you, Weasley, you are definitely not suicide-worthy."

"But Hermione said you slit your wrists. She said there was blood everywhere." He stopped as she pulled back the sleeve of her robes, revealing numerous patches of small scars. He whistled. "Wow, I would never have guessed."

Lavender was annoyed. He sounded relieved now that he thought it wasn't his fault. "What do you mean by that?" she snapped.

"Well, you just don't seem the type, you know, you're always so happy and, you know, normal," Ron mused.

"What, you think cutters are stupid emo-goths who dress like skanks and listen to Nine Inch Nails and the Verve Pipe? You think I want everyone to know what a freak I am? You really are stupid. Why did I ever go out with you?" Her voice rose in a shrill crescendo until she was yelling. At this point, Madam Pomfrey got involved and threw the weasel out.

Lavender sobbed into her pillow. The whole school was sure to know: Weasley wasn't exactly the epitome of tact and self-restraint. Madam Pomfrey came over and gave her a sleeping draught. She gladly took it—at least while she was asleep she could escape the nightmare she had created for herself.