Trysten left Transfiguration that day with mixed feelings about the upcoming Divination class. The minute she walked into classroom 11, however, she felt as though she would enjoy the class. 'Do the same as you did yesterday, log your results,' was written on the board. She noted that yesterday's activity wasn't named specifically and assumed that meant she would be allowed to proceed with the flame reading. She walked over to the table nearest Firenze's office, feeling an icy chill as she passed within a foot of the table. Realizing she had just passed through a glamour charm, Trysten looked to the table and saw the same set up as the day before. Anxious and excited, she sat at the table and found a scrap of parchment.

'Miss Moonjade,' it read, 'you do not have to put the person's memories in the log, simply who worked, what work, how long it lasted, and the clarity. Good luck, Trysten. –Firenze. P.S. I would appreciate if you did not use me in the casting.'

Trysten nodded to herself, folded the paper ad stuffed it in her pocket. She wondered a moment on who she should See, and finally she decided to look farther into Harry's life, seeing as she now know the memories for what they were. Using the powder liberally to spell Harry's name, Trysten set a magical timer, then whispered, "Incendi lumo spectra." The powder swirled into flame and the first memory began.

All was dark. Apprehension filled the air. There was a flash of green light, then a woman's scream, finally cut to nothing.

She crouched on a white, tiled floor, scrubbing. She looked up suddenly, seeing a towering, huge man. She was filled with fear as he lifted a hand and brought it down at her.

Just before it hit, she found herself scrubbing the same floor, her hand notably larger than before. She looked up once more to see the man again, much fatter than before, red in the face. He lifted her roughly and brought her towards the stairs, opened a tiny door, and shoved her in.

She found herself in a dark room, rain and thunder heard from outside. The door bust in, revealing a big man she now knew to be Hagrid.

She sat in a compartment of the Hogwarts Express, nervous and jittery. She looked from the redhead in front of her to the bushy-haired girl in the doorway.

She stared up into the eyes of Draco Malfoy, hate brewing within her. He offered a hand, which she refused, thinking of her parents.

She sat on a broom, a ball of glass in her hand. She looked to the window behind her, saw Professor McGonagall, and was filled with dread.

In a room foreign to her, she stared into a mirror. The mirror image of Harry moved, putting his hand in his pocket. She looked over into the eyes of an ugly man, his face growing off the back of someone's head.

She looked down at a giant snake, which was coming up to look at him. Sword in had, she looked the snake in the gashes which used to be its eyes.

"Kill the spare," something hissed. Agonizing screams ripped through the air, guilt making her nauseous.

She stood in a dim room, odd sounds filling the air. She looked up to se a man—Sirius—laughing. Images of the man filled her head- smiling, sulking, smirking- his scent filled her nostrils, a warm feeling of love overcoming her. The scene cut back to Sirius laughing, before being hit by a spell, squarely in the chest. His look of surprise quickly turned to one of horror as he began to stumble backward through a cloth…

"No!" Trysten shrieked, reaching out to grab the outstretched hand of the man she now loved.

Harry was brought back out of his trance by a bloodcurdling scream in the classroom. He looked about him, but saw everyone else doing the same as him, nothing seeming amiss. He was about to blame the sobbing which followed on Moaning Myrtle when Firenze stepped before the class. "Everyone out. Now!" He yelled when no one moved. Swiftly every singed person exited the room, Harry among the last.

Halfway to the Great Hall, he realized he had left his potions book in Divination, so he turned around and went back to classroom 11. He paused in the doorway, surprised by the sight which met him. Firenze stood next to his office, next to a table which Harry could have sworn hadn't been there before. What surprised Harry the most was that seated at the table was a girl.

My Potions partner! Harry realized, grinning. However, his happiness was thwarted when he was that she was crying. Not just crying, shaking. She was staring straight ahead of her, where a floating ball of flame was situated. Firenze put it out, kneeling before her.

"Miss Moonjade," Firenze murmured, a comforting hand on her knee, "what's wrong?"

"He…he's been through so much," she murmured. Firenze began to turn for the door and Harry bolted, deciding to retrieve his textbook after lunch.

Firenze turned toward the door and closed it with his wand, then turned to Trysten once more. "Who?" he asked gently, not wanting to disturb her farther.

"Harry," she croaked, her voice breaking. She looked deeply into Firenze's eyes. "Do you know what has happened to him?"

"Some," Firenze admitted. "You Saw his memories, then?"

"Yes," she told him. She glanced at the table and looked at the parchment there. "Do you think you could write the results I tell you?" She asked, ready to get work done.

Firenze chuckled and wiped the tears from her face. "Alright," he assented, knowing an ordinary activity would help calm her.

"The clarity was…exceptional," she whispered, her voice shaking slightly. She cleared her throat and closed her eyes. "Except the first one was dark. It lasted…"she checked her timer. "Forty-five minutes, the subject was Harry Potter. I used first and last name in generous amounts of powder, a whispered incantation, no wand." She paused, trying to see if she had forgotten anything. "About eleven memories," she added. Trysten shivered involuntarily at the memories and Firenze laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked.

"I think…I think I just need to be alone for a while," she murmured, looking down.

Firenze nodded, understanding. "I'll have a house elf bring up lunch for you," he told her. She nodded in thanks and buried her face in her hands. Firenze walked towards the door, but stopped halfway, spotting a forgotten Potions book. He opened the cover, spotted the name 'Harry Potter', and set off to return the pupil's book.

Harry sat at lunch, Ron and Hermione to either side of him. "It was her?" Hermione asked for the hundredth time since Harry told them what he had seen. "The girl who was crying in Divination was the one you've been looking for?"

"It was her, I'm certain of it," Harry confirmed.

"But why couldn't we see her?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"It's obvious, Ron, really. The girl must have cast a glamour charm so no one could see her," Hermione theorized.

"But why wouldn't se want anyone to see her?" Ron asked, sounding a bit whiny for having to ask the obvious questions. Both Harry and Hermione thought on this.

"She must've been doing something," Harry said, a determined glint in his eye. "Something she didn't want us three to know about. Perhaps she was contacting V-"

"Harold James Potter, don't you ever think it. Why on earth would she be contacting You-Know-Who in Divination? Not to mention Firenze must have known about it if he came directly to her afterwards." Hermione reasoned.

"You don't think…Firenze could be a- a Death Eater?" Ron gulped.

"Don't be absurd, Ron. This probably has nothing to do with You-Know-Who. Harry," Hermione began, turning to him, "what were they talking about?"

"I'm not sure, exactly, but when Firenze asked her what happened, she said, 'He's been through so much'."

"And that's why she was crying?" Ron yelped indignantly.

Hermione, being more in tune with female emotions, glared at Ron. "It's simple—she must have been thinking about someone close to her who was going through pain."

"If someone else was feeling pain, why was she crying?" Ron countered.

"It's called empathy, Ron. She felt bad for them," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"So it's pity?" Harry spat, eyes flaring.

"No, Harry. Merlin, you two are impossible. I'm going to the library. When you get the idea of empathy through your think skulls, we can resume t he topic." With those last words, Hermione stood and shouldered her bad. She sighed something that sounded like, "Men," and stalked out of the Great Hall.

Harry and Ron rolled their eyes and began to discuss Quidditch. Firenze entered the Hall and walked up to Harry, who was oblivious. "Mr. Potter," Firenze began, "I do believe you'll need this." He held out Harry's Potions book.

"Oh, right. Thanks, Professor," Harry grinned.

"Just try to remember it next time," Firenze told him serenely. He then strode back out of the hall. Harry turned back to Ron and ginned, then continued their discussion on the Keepers of the various House teams.

Draco snorted as Granger stood and left the hall, leaving her companions looking baffled. A few moments later, Professor Firenze came in and returned a book to Harry Potter. "Bloody muggle-lover," Draco spat. "If I left a book in Divination, no one would return it to me."

"Speaking of Divination," Pansy Parkinson interrupted, "what in Merlin's name happened today?"

"Thought it was the moaner," Crabbe said questioningly, stuffing his face with a muffin.

"I've never heard Moaning Myrtle shriek in agony, Crabbe," Pansy told him, rolling her eyes and flipping her hair.

"That's true," Blaise agreed. "And the way Firenze kicked us all out after it happened…"

"He did look quite panicky," Draco agreed. "Something's not right in that class. See what you can dig up," he told the group. "If anyone can get to the bottom of this, we can."

All dried up and full of comfort food, Trysten numbly trod down the hall, heading to Potions. Not far from her destination, Trysten heard a voice.

"Back off, Malfoy," it hissed.

"What're you going to do about it, Weaselby?" Draco scoffed. "Hex yourself?"

As Trysten rounded the corner she saw Ron redden. Harry and Draco now had each other at wand point, although the each was close to the walls, laving plenty of space between them. 'Kill the spare' flooded into Trysten's mind and she strode quickly towards the group, noting sourly that Harry's friends were standing uselessly by, as usual. She didn't hear the argument rise in heat, as her ears were filled with a nasal laugh she now associated with Sirius' death.

"Go," she told Harry's group, stepping in front of Harry. Her body faced Draco, but she had her head turned toward the trio. Caught up in the memories, she didn't realize that the argument had escalated into a duel, meaning Harry and Draco had just cast their spells as she stepped between them. After she had uttered the single word to the trio, she felt fire burning through her back, then starting again hear her heart.

Their spells hit her hard and she found it increasingly hard to breathe. She collapsed to her knees, holding herself up with her hands. She felt as though she were in another sandstorm, her body stinging and her lungs striving for air she couldn't find. A few moments later the worst was over, and she shakily began to sit back up, her legs flat beneath her.

"You," she heard Draco spit, causing her head to snap up and look into the cold, fiery gray eyes. "What in the bloody hell do you think you were doing?" He hissed. "I could've had him!"

A quick glance behind her told her that Harry had left as she instructed, and she attempted a sigh of relief, which she was unable to complete. "Helping," Trysten managed to gasp out, although her chest was on fire.

"What?" Draco asked, forgetting his previous question.

"I…was…h-helping," she ground out.

"Who?" Draco sneered. "Him? Harry bleeding Potter? The boy-who-lived?" She shook her head, remembering the fire in her back (which burned more fiercely than the one she received from Draco). Draco looked at her oddly, waiting for her to answer, caught off-guard by the girl struggling on the floor before her.

"B-both of…you…Draco," she murmured, gasping in pain after the last word. Draco merely stared at her, noting that once again she used his first name.

"What is going on here?" Professor Snape snapped, rounding the corner on his way to class. Draco paled visibly as the professor neared, caught red-handed.

"N-nothing…Prof-fessor," the girl said, pushing herself from the floor, stumbling as she stood. Snape raised an eyebrow and Draco looked at her, surprised and confused. "I-I was just…I…..fell," she said, trying to gasp for breath inconspicuously.

Professor Snape eyes her coolly and was about to retort when the girl raised her hand and brushed her hair back. "What in Merlin's name happened to your hand?"

She looked at him, confused, then glanced at her hand. It was bright red, peeling skin, and bleeding from a few places. "I…I…" She tried to think of a reason but came up blank.

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape enunciated, "I think you have some explaining to do."

"Be didn't do it," the girl managed to force out, still struggling for breath.

"What?" Snape asked confusedly, turning to her. He looked skeptically at her. "Miss Moonjade, you don't honestly expect me to believe that-"

"He didn't…do it," the girl said, more forcibly than Draco thought possible in her current state. Following this he found his head bombarded with images of Snape and Potter kissing passionately, tinged with an undercurrent of pleading. Pushing down his nausea, Draco looked to Snape, who turned red with anger, assuring Draco the images were false.

The anger instantly faded, however, when the girl—Miss Moonjade, he reminded himself—collapsed to the ground, trying her hardest to breathe.

"Fine," the professor assented after fixing Draco a glare, which he full-heartedly returned. "But I will find out," he assured her, tapping his head.

As the girl was helped up, she looked to Draco, then back to Snape. She smirked a moment before her voice rippled through his head. Bloody legimens, she complained half-heartedly, obviously directed at Snape. A moment before the professor turned her away from Draco, she looked Draco in the eyes and smiled. Draco watched her limp down the hallway, using Snape as support.

Draco stared after them for a few moments after they disappeared, then headed to the Potions class, the girl's smile never leaving his head.

(A/N: Perfect by Nature, thanks for the tips! I'll try to do some more character development.

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