Hazel pushed the sausage around on her plate, her stomach too nauseous to take a bite. It took only half a day for the news of her most recent wrongdoing to travel around the school, and it took only ten minutes for the rest of her House to restart their reign of terror over her life. She was now taking to shrinking her textbooks and broom when they weren't in use, as well as the remainder of her school robes, so that she never had to slip down to the common room.
She was using the showers in the Quidditch changing rooms for the same reason. She had to slip out during the night to do so, walking in the shadowy castle grounds under her Invisibility Cloak. Twice, she was almost caught by Madame Hooch (the flight instructor and Quidditch Referee) suddenly turning up, but she managed to scurry away each time, usually still wet, back into the cold night. These nightly trips meant that she was getting very little sleep, as she had to spend an inordinate amount of time simply trying to avoid Prefect and staff patrols to get back to the second-floor bathroom.
Her hair might be back to normal, but it no longer brought her any happiness. Malfoy had to resort to more creative ways of making fun of her. He'd resorted to insulting her dead parents, for the most part, a surefire way to get a rise out of her. She almost hexed him the last time, when he forced her to partner with him during Astronomy. The resulting detention was terrible. Hazel had to clean out the Trophy Room by hand. Snape made her pay special attention to those earned by her mother. She earned three awards for every single Quidditch trophy from her father. Her own, singular award was tucked away in the very back where nobody would see it, completely covered in dust.
A snowy owl landed next to her, holding out its leg, followed immediately by an ancient barn owl crashing into the pitcher of juice next to her. Hazel set her fork down so she could dry her robes with a napkin. Hedwig held out her leg for Hazel to take. Hazel glanced over to Hermione. She was staring straight at her plate, not bothering to look at her. Hazel couldn't blame her.
Hazel untied the letter from both owls and then watched as Hedwig carried out Errol. She saw Hermione briefly looking in her direction, eyes full of hope. Hazel tucked the letters into her robe, unread, and then left the table without eating a single bite.
"And always remember the proper annunciation," McGonagall repeated for the third time. "Orchideous. It is especially important to be clear when conjuring any sort of object. Remember; conjuration is different from summoning. Conjuration is the art of transforming the very air itself into the desired object. We are aiming for flowers, in this instance, but if you stutter or stumble, the consequences could be disastrous."
Hazel yawned loudly, writing the words into her notes as slowly as her hand could go. She couldn't be bothered to put in any real effort. She'd just get in trouble for it. She just wasn't good enough.
"We will be practicing the spell for the next two weeks," McGonagall continued. "For now, we will cover the theory. It is very important that you pay attention. This may be the easiest of the conjurations we practice during this class, but it is still complex, and it will only get worse from here. The theory we learn will be applied for each and every one of them, and it will come easier to you if we establish a firm base now. Copy this diagram. For those of you in Ancient Runes, you will have noticed the Taln runes, here. These runes will be present for every Conjuration; they are critical to the very building-blocks of the School of Magic. Be thankful for your wands: millennia ago, we would have needed to draw the full circle for each individual spell."
Hazel yawned again, leaving the rune spots blank in her copy. She'd apply the runes later, if she remembered or could be bothered. She didn't want to do anything at all, but she knew from experience what would happen if she didn't at least pretend to care. Hazel rubbed at her eyes with her free hand. McGonagall went momentarily silent, to allow them time to copy down the notes on the blackboard before continuing. The only sounds were of a dozen quills scratching on parchment and the rhythmic ticking of the large clock stories above.
Hazel set her quill down, done copying for the moment. McGonagall noticed most of the class was ready and began explaining the rest of the diagram. Hazel leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes for just a moment.
There was a loud ringing that shook Hazel out of her haze. She felt her chair slip, waved her hands in the air in a wild attempt to reach her wand, and then hit the floor hard to a chorus of laughter.
"Welcome back to the world of the living, Potter," McGonagall said shrewdly from the front of the class. "Please, collect your things. I believe Flitwick is expecting you. Do give him my regards. I will see you later this evening for a detention."
Hazel glanced around, horrified to notice that she was now surrounded by Ravenclaw first years. She gathered her things as quickly as she could, then scrambled from the classroom with more accompanying giggles, wondering why nobody had bothered to wake her.
"I have never, in all my years, had a student fall asleep during a lesson, Potter," McGonagall said later that evening, Hazel sitting across from her in her usual spot. "I certainly hope you at least had a good rest."
Hazel knew better than to respond to that; if she said anything at all, it would only result in another punishment. She'd deserve it, but she still didn't want it.
"Very well, Potter," McGonagall said, taking her glasses off again. "You know the drill. How was your day?"
"This is stupid," Hazel grumbled. "You know how it was, you just-"
"Answer the question, Potter."
"It was horrible," Hazel said shortly.
"I believe you earned another detention today?"
"Yes."
"I believe you are the first student since he began teaching that has earned a detention from Flitwick," McGonagall said plainly. "Would you care to explain how?"
"You know how," Hazel said through her clenched teeth.
"I think I would rather hear it from you."
Hazel stared at McGonagall blankly for as long as she dared. McGonagall would wait all night, of course, but Hazel never would be able to. She couldn't stand the dead air for long.
"I deserved it," she said.
"That was not the question, Potter," McGonagall said sternly. "What did you do?"
"I was late," Hazel clarified.
"And?"
"And I forgot my homework."
"And why is that?"
"Is there a point to this?"
"I am trying to get to the roots of your issues, Potter. Why did you forget your homework?"
"Because I fell asleep while doing it," Hazel said.
"And how long have you been missing assignments?"
Hazel chewed the inside of her lip as she considered telling a lie. It would be no good, though. McGonagall always knew the truth.
"Depends on the class," Hazel said, trying to avoid it.
"I am asking specifically about Charms, Potter."
"Six," Hazel said, staring down at the floor.
"And how many more have you missed for other classes?"
"I thought we were only talking about Charms, Professor."
"Humour me."
"In Potions, none," Hazel said, thinking Snape would kill me. "Another six in Herbology. Four in Ancient Runes. Five in Arithmancy. I've missed the last few essays for Professor Lupin, but I didn't miss anything else."
"Good to know you have been so diligent," McGonagall said, preparing her trump card. "And what of Astronomy, Transfiguration, and, Merlin watch over us, History of Magic?"
"I haven't missed a single Astronomy assignment, Professor," Hazel said in a façade of calmness. "I just didn't finish them. You already know Transfiguration."
"And History of Magic?"
Hazel chewed the inside of her mouth again. McGonagall didn't show any signs of giving in. She supposed she better get it over with.
"I haven't turned in any since September, Professor," Hazel said at last, staring down at her feet in shame.
"And why is that?"
Hazel shrugged.
"How is it that, even after withdrawing from a class, you cannot find the time to complete your assignments?"
"I didn't want to do that," Hazel said quietly.
"The staff thought it would do you some good," McGonagall said calmly. "And, yet, your behaviour has only worsened since. I can only assume the cause is out of my jurisdiction, Potter, but I would still like to help you. You need only tell me what is wrong."
"I don't-"
"We both know I will get the truth out of you sooner or later, Potter," McGonagall said in an annoyed tone, her first of, inevitably, many during the night, "Even if we must continue into the new year."
Hazel let out a sigh; this was going to be a long night.
Hazel had a hard time making it through the rest of the week. But, somehow, God willing, Friday rolled around, and they were two days from October being over. It felt like the longest month of her life, but she was sure things would only get worse from here.
Lupin was lecturing them on the Boggart-Banishing spell. He finally arranged one, and he was attempting to prepare them ahead of time.
"For homework," Lupin said near the end, "I want each of you to write an essay on your worst fear and in what way you would change it to be funny. It doesn't have to be long, a brief description is more than enough, but you do need to put some thought into it. I will collect them during our next class and will provide private feedback if I believe your idea isn't strong enough. If you fail to turn one in, I will not allow you to participate when the Boggart arrives. It is early, but you are all dismissed; have a wonderful weekend."
Hazel remained seated for a bit; she wanted to be the last to leave, so the others could get well ahead of her. Hazel got up after, not feeling enough of an appetite for lunch. Besides, Katie would be there, which meant she couldn't go even if she wanted to. It was best to avoid her entirely.
"Hazel," Lupin said softly, putting a firm hand on her shoulder before she could reach the door. "I was wondering if you'd join me for tea?"
Hazel considered saying no, but the Professor didn't seem like he was giving her an option. She followed him into his office; the grindylow tank was gone, now, so there was a lot more open space. Hazel took a seat in front of his desk, while Lupin fussed about in the corner.
Lupin handed her a cup, and she took a sip and nodded in acknowledgment. Lupin sat at his desk. He didn't have a cup of his own. Hazel took another awkward sip. Lupin nodded again, then waved his wand over his desk, summoning a platter of sandwiches in the empty space. Hazel stopped mid-sip, then lowered her cup.
"I thought we were just having tea, Professor," she said.
"I thought you might enjoy a bit of lunch, as well," Lupin said in a friendly tone. Hazel eyed the sandwiches suspiciously, took a sip, and then set her cup down.
"I'm not hungry," she said, starting to stand so she could leave.
Lupin leaned forward. "I could not help but notice you have been absent at more meals than you have been present, Hazel, nor the concerning amount of weight you have lost. When you do show your face, you tend to push your food around while eating very little. I cannot force you to eat meals in the Great Hall with your Housemates, nor can I make you eat now, but I can make you sit and, perhaps, persuade you to do so. Consider it a punishment."
"For what?" Hazel asked, still hovering over her chair.
"For inevitably failing to finish your boggart essay," Lupin said with a knowing smile. Hazel sat back down, feeling uncomfortable. "Professor McGonagall tells me that you hate speaking about yourself. I doubt I will receive a description of your greatest fear."
Hazel said nothing. She fully intended on never doing the assignment. Lupin seemed to take her hesitation as confirmation.
"Alas," Lupin said. "I don't suppose you would be interested in telling me now, in the privacy of my office?"
Hazel took her cup back from the desk, taking a nervous sip. Lupin remained quiet, but not in the same way as McGonagall did; Hazel always got the impression that he was allowing her a chance to not speak, when McGonagall was simply waiting for you to give into pressure. Hazel appreciated it.
It also always made her feel very guilty.
"I don't know what my greatest fear is," Hazel admitted quietly, staring at her tea.
"I suppose it'd be hard to scare somebody with a track record like yours."
Hazel shook her head, not looking up. She took another sip. "It's not that, Professor. I- I don't know what would come out."
"I see," Lupin said, leaning back slightly. "There is nothing that sticks out in your mind more than the others?" Hazel shook her head again. "Not even Lord Voldemort?"
Hazel was briefly surprised to hear Lupin speak the name. It even managed to get her to look up from her boots. Lupin didn't even seem to notice. He was staring up at the ceiling, something he often did while he thought.
"I can think of a few things, Professor," Hazel said. "But I- I don't think I'd- That I'd want anybody else to see them."
"You do not have to participate if you do not wish to, Hazel," Lupin said kindly. "That is, partially, why I assigned the essay. It allows an easy out for those who are unwilling. That being said, I can assure you that there is nothing wrong with being afraid. Everybody who does go is showing you their deepest fears, as well."
Hazel started chewing the inside of her mouth again.
"I'll write the essay," she decided, setting down her cup again now that it was empty. "I just- I might need to think about it for a while longer, Professor."
"Take all the time you need," Lupin said. "We won't be seeing the boggart until December." He waved his wand again, vanishing the sandwiches Hazel failed to so much as touch, and she slung her bag back over her shoulder as she went to leave. "And you are welcome back in my office at any time. I understand it's been hard going for you. If you need a break, I will allow you to sit in here without my presence. You may eat, or even sleep, without anybody bothering you."
"Thanks, Professor," Hazel said, smiling for the first time all week. She didn't deserve it, of course, and she wouldn't take him up on the offer, but it was the thought that counted.
Hazel scratched away at her parchment. It was always much harder to draw with a quill and ink, but she was managing something. It wasn't very complicated, but she thought it resembled Professor Binns. He was probably the most boring subject she'd ever had, but he moved so rarely that it was easy to get some anatomical practice in, even with equipment ill-suited to the occasion. She'd bring her charcoal to class if she thought she could get away with it. It wouldn't happen any time soon. Not with Parkinson sitting next to her, glancing over every few minutes with that sly smile that said she was up to something. Hazel couldn't stand it.
Hazel left quickly when the bell rang above; she just wanted to eat and head off to Myrtle's bathroom before Katie could get to her. She couldn't take the empty stomach for much longer.
"Potter!"
Hazel let out a sigh but slowed down so Parkinson could catch up to her. She didn't want to make things worse by ignoring her. Pansy looked just as smug as Hazel expected her to once she caught up.
"You really need to work on your posture, Potter," Parkinson said that smile not leaving her face.
Hazel didn't say a word. She didn't want to make things worse for herself.
"I noticed you haven't been keeping up with your Quidditch exercises," Pansy said. "I've been covering for you, Potter, and I think you owe me."
"What do you care?" Hazel asked, narrowing her eyes a bit.
Pansy shrugged. "Just looking out for you, Potter. Like a good Slytherin."
"What are you up to?"
"I'm not up to anything, I just told you I was-"
"Did Malfoy put you up to this?"
"Merlin's cloak, Potter, I was just trying to be friendly," Pansy said, breaking her façade. "You spend enough time around the Mudblood, you'd think you could spare a glance at-"
"I told you not to call her that," Hazel said coldly. Parkinson just rolled her eyes in response. Hazel picked up her pace.
"You'll have to move on from them eventually, Potter," Pansy said, keeping up regardless. She almost had to jog to keep up with Hazel's longer pace. "You're supposed to be a Slytherin, they must be sick of you by now."
"Shut up, Parkinson," Hazel said as they entered the Great Hall. Hazel glanced over at Ron, thinking that she was at least right about one of them.
Hazel took a seat near the exit, dismayed when Parkinson sat down right across from her. Seconds later, the rest of the Slytherin second year girls joined them: Millicent Bulstrode, Tracey Davis, Daphne Greengrass, Sophie Roper, and Gloria Runcorn. Hazel briefly considered moving further up the table, but a quick glance from Parkinson told her that was a terrible idea. She settled in for an uncomfortable dinner; at least Greengrass and Roper were too far away for Hazel to hear in the noisy dining hall. Hazel piled food onto her plate, wondering if she'd even manage a single bite with how tight her stomach felt.
"Save some for the rest of us, Potter," Runcorn said with a dignified sniff.
Hazel said nothing, and instead forced a bite of salmon down her throat. She glanced up at the staff table, noting Lupin giving her a nod of approval. She took another bite, wondering when the Hogwarts food got so bland.
"We noticed you dropped Care of Magical creatures, Potter," Davis said in that airy voice of hers.
"Got sick of the great oaf, did you?" Bulstrode said in her thick one.
"Hagrid's brilliant," Hazel said grumpily, forcing herself to take another bite.
"If you're judging him by those monsters he raises, I suppose so," Parkinson said with a giddy laugh.
"They're all Ministry approved creatures," Hazel said, chewing a dry green bean.
"Careful, you lot," Davis said, "I think Potter fancies the Bundimuns almost as much as she does the Weasley boy."
"Ron's just my friend," Hazel said, her face turning red, wondering if they were even friends anymore.
"Well, I can't say I blame her," Runcorn said in her dry tone. "I'd take the foul ooze over a blood traitor any day. What's it like living in that little shack of theirs? I can't imagine it's very comfortable sharing a bed with a dozen other people."
Hazel took a bite of her food. It didn't taste like anything in particular anymore. Her fork was shaking when it left her mouth; she couldn't steady her hand.
"You know, Potter," Davis said with faux kindness, "Your hair really is rather lovely now that it's normal again."
"Thanks," Hazel said cautiously. "Err- your hair is pretty, too." It wasn't exactly true; it was a brittle blonde, and Hazel had plenty of reasons to hate that colour.
"As if I need you to tell me that," Davis said. "Now that you're a Slytherin, we really do need to set you up with some better company."
"What do you mean?" Hazel asked, pursing her lips.
"Well, you can't keep hanging around blood traitors, no matter how funny it is," Davis said plainly. Hazel set down her fork. "You know, Zabini always liked red hair, we could put in a good word for you, if you want."
"No, thank you," Hazel said icily.
"Suit yourself," the other girl said with a shrug. "It really is a waste of your good looks, Potter, although you've been letting those slide lately, walking around without so much as-"
"Oh, Davis, don't," Pansy said with an eager laugh.
"You know, Potter," Davis continued, "Maybe if you weren't so uptight, the rest of us would actually enjoy spending time in your company."
"What's your excuse, then?" Hazel said, wondering how they strayed from complimenting each other so quickly. "I can't imagine anybody enjoys being within five feet of you, Davis."
Davis turned red, and Hazel took another unsatisfying bite. She was sure she was about to regret that comment.
"Better watch yourself, Heiry," Davis said with venom in her voice. "You might find yourself tied up in an empty classroom soon enough, waiting for Black to come pick you up."
"Oh, I doubt it'll be a classroom," Pansy said with a vicious smile. "Maybe he'll find you in the Forbidden Forest, if he's lucky. He'd have to get there before the Acromantulas, of course, but there might be something left."
"Maybe we'll toss that cat of yours in there, too," Bulstrode added.
Hazel raised another shaky fork full of food to her mouth, trying to ignore it.
"I'm surprised you haven't gone after him yet, Potter," Parkinson said. "We all thought you were supposed to be a brave little Gryffindor. If it'd been my parents, I would have gotten him ages ago. I suppose you're as cowardly as you are stupid, then."
"Shut up," Hazel said quietly.
"Well, let's not be too harsh, Pansy," Davis said. "Self-Preservation is one of our ideals, isn't it? Of course, why she'd want to preserve that, I'll never know."
"Poor little Gryffindor," Pansy said. "Why don't you save us all the trouble and jump off the Astronomy Tower? We'd all be better off for it."
"You could even do it tonight," Runcorn added. "I doubt Professor Sinistra would stop you."
"Merlin, she'd probably push you off herself," Davis said.
"Then Black wouldn't even need to finish the job," Pansy said. "He could go and take those bloody dementors with him."
"Please, stop," Hazel whispered.
"What's the matter, Gryffindor?" Pansy asked. "Don't like it when people tell you the truth? Sorry, but we'd all be better off without you. If your parents weren't dead, they'd tell you the same. Just look at you. What a complete waste of space."
"Better not lose the game for us, Heiry," Davis said. "If you do, Montague won't be able to keep us from showing you your place."
Hazel glanced down the table towards the Quidditch Captain, wondering what they were talking about.
"Surprised, Gryffindor?" Pansy asked with a loud laugh. "Only reason no one's gone for you after Draco won is because Montague wants the cup. If it weren't for him, you'd know just how worthless you are."
Hazel already knew how worthless she was, and she didn't need to sit here listening to them anymore. She placed her fork back on her plate and rose from her seat, leaving while the rest of the girls laughed and threw more taunts at her.
Hazel rubbed at her sore ankle, cursing herself for being so stupid. Her eyes were watering, and she couldn't stand to put any weight on the thing just yet. She was positive somebody threw a Tripping Hex at her while they were jogging, but nobody fessed up, and Montague never investigated. He was too busy giving everybody else their usual criticisms.
"And you, Potter," Montague said at the end of the line, surprising Hazel out of her dourness. "You're still too scrawny, have you even been trying to keep up?"
"Yes," Hazel said quietly.
"Pucey's only a year ahead of you," Montague said, "And he's almost twice your size!"
"I know," Hazel said, still rubbing at her joint.
"Which is why you're both going to be practicing more from here on out," Montague said, looking between the two of them. "And I mean it, too. Common room training room. Every night. 7 o'clock. I'll be running you through drills. It's almost game time, we can't afford to screw up now, if either of you cost us the cup, I'll kill you myself. Understood?"
"Yes," Hazel and Pucey said at the same time, through equally grit teeth. It was the first time they managed to agree on something.
"Somebody drag Potter to the Hospital Wing," Montague barked. "She's too stupid to find her own way there."
"Potter, I am tired of seeing you in here every week," Pomfrey said as she closed the curtains around them.
"I know," Hazel said quietly. Pomfrey rolled up her trouser leg quickly, Hazel wincing when she prodded at the swollen area.
"Next time," Pomfrey said, tapping the lump with her wand, "I'm going to make you heal naturally. Maybe if you feel a bit of pain, you'll learn to avoid it."
Hazel doubted it would work, since it was never her fault, but she didn't say anything. She knew how to take a bit of pain. She could deal with it if she had to.
Hazel wandered into the Great Hall with the rest of the crowd on Sunday evening. The Halloween Feast was here, and she was determined not to miss this one like she had the previous two. She waited for the rest of the hall to empty before meandering her way in. She wanted to make sure she could get a seat away from anybody that would try talking to her.
The Great Hall was decorated with floating jack-o-lanterns, their grins twisted from malice, the shadows flickering along the walls and tables from the candles they contained. Along the back wall, behind the staff table, were especially massive ones, seated firmly on the ground, grown and cared for by Hagrid. Occasionally, as a pumpkin floated by, it would cackle in a menacing tone. Twice it happened right behind Hazel, both times startling her. She wasn't very hungry, and she wasn't having a very good time, but she was determined to eat as much as she used to. It would be a good send off for the month.
And then Sae came in late and sat in the empty seat directly across from her, spoiling the whole thing.
"Where have you been, Potter?" she asked. Her hair was a bit frizzy.
"Hogwarts," Hazel said as she took another bite.
Sae lowered her voice. "Potter, you haven't slept in the common room in a month, where have you been?"
"Hogwarts," Hazel said again. "What do you care?"
"You can't keep sleeping outside the common room, Lily," Sae said, "You have to-"
"Hazel," Hazel said, eating another bite of flavorless starch.
"Look," Sae continued, "I'm sorry, all right? I've been trying to apologize all month, but you keep avoiding me and-"
"I don't want to hear it," Hazel said. "Not after what you did."
"They were just worms, Lily, I-"
"Hazel," Hazel repeated with more emphasis. "And I don't care what they were, they were living creatures that I was supposed to care for and you killed them.
"We use live ones in Potions all the time, Lily!" Sae said.
"That isn't all you did!" Hazel countered. "And I told you to call me-"
"Hazel, I've already fixed your trunk," Sae said. "You would have noticed if you spent more than five minutes every week in the dorms. It took me a while, I had to ask Flitwick how to-"
"So, I'm just supposed to forget, then?"
"I'm trying, why can't you just-"
"What does your sister think about all of this?" Hazel asked pointedly.
"She's not talking to me, either," Sae said, staring down at her empty plate. "I told her what I did the day after you found out."
"Really?" Hazel asked, finally impressed by something. And then she realized what Sae wanted. "So, you just want me to accept your apology so she'll talk to you, then, is that it?"
"Hazel, come on-"
"Have a good night, Sae," Hazel said. She stood, leaving her plate half-eaten, and left the Feast that she'd been looking forward to for so long. Nobody else was even close to leaving. She glanced hopefully over at the Gryffindor table, only to face disappointment. Only Neville saw, and he waved at her, but he'd never follow without Ron, and he was still looking tired and angry. He had that rat of his sitting out on the table and was attempting to feed it bits of potato. Hazel didn't know how the rest of the boys could stand him putting it so close to the food, especially when it clearly kept trying to run away. Hazel wished it would hurry up and die so she could have one less thing to worry about.
Hazel wandered through the empty, cold halls for an hour before finally making her way back towards the second-floor bathroom. Several times she thought somebody was following her, but she didn't much fancy checking the map to make sure.
Myrtle was too busy crying in her toilet to notice Hazel come in. The light was fully gone by this point in the evening, so the bathroom was dim and uninviting. Hazel lit her wand, set it to her side, and pulled out her broomstick.
Hazel just wanted to disappear. She was tired of everything. She grew the broom back to its original size and then wandered over to the familiar snake, running her finger over the snake engraving on the faucet.
"I am the Heir of Slytherin," she said in a hiss, "and I command you to open."
The sink slid out of the way, revealing the large, downwards slide. Hazel heard Myrtle call after her, but she didn't listen. She jumped in without hesitation and let the darkness take her. She hissed a command, and she could hear the sink slide shut above her. She ignored the claustrophobic pangs that went through her, shoving them back down into her skull, and came out into the familiar entryway.
Two things surprised her: the clutter caused by the cave-in was already gone, and she could already see quite well even without her wand lit up. She grumbled to herself. Night Vision Charms were completely unnecessary. She did wonder where the pale, green light came from, but she supposed it didn't really matter much in the end. The point was that she could see.
As for the clutter, well, she figured it made sense. The professors did come to rescue her eventually. They must have vanished it all in mere moments. She tucked her wand away into its holster, dissatisfied that she never got a chance to use it.
The Chamber was much colder than she remembered it being. She found herself shivering easily, but she did nothing to stop it. She just kept walking, her broom held against her shoulder.
She passed by the shed Basilisk skin, running one hand along the dry surface of the discarded scales. She briefly wondered why the Basilisk never ate any of the people it petrified. That would have gotten the school closed for sure, and then she never would have had to come back here. She pushed that thought away just as quickly as it came, feeling disgusted by it.
A whispered command in Parseltongue opened the next set of gates, allowing her inside the largest Chamber that the Secrets held. Frost still covered the surface of the stones and marble around her, even long after the ice she used to fight was melted. The surface wasn't as slick, wasn't as wet, as she remembered it being. There were quite a few completely dry patches around.
One was right in the center of the room, a large, dark spot spread around it in a rusty red. Hazel leaned down, running a hand over it. This was definitely where Hermione's unconscious body had lain, and where she ultimately collapsed after her battle with the Basilisk.
But she didn't remember losing so much blood. She didn't see how this much could have spread on the ground without her actually dying. She almost wished that she had. Everything would have been much easier.
She laid down on the spot, staring up at the green, moldy ceiling. She closed her eyes, trying to remember what it had felt like to die. She remembered a burning pain, at first, and then numbness came.
And then, right at the end, she felt at peace, almost strangely warm and happy.
She fell asleep, somehow, she could tell that much. Her body ached from laying on the hard stone, and her head was still swimming with forgotten dreams. Her face was wet. She must have been crying. She woke up like that frequently, these days.
Hazel had no way of telling what time it was down here. She could have slept all night, for all she knew. What she did know was how cold she was; it now felt like it was seeping into her bones, and she couldn't stop shivering. She rose from her tomb, arms held tightly to her chest, and she began making her way back out. She'd come back another day, if she could be bothered. She didn't like being down here, but it felt strangely calm.
Her teeth were still chattering by the time she made it to the entrance. Flying was hard when she was this cold, so she took it slow, all the way to the top. She had her wand lit in her hand again. She really didn't want to hit the ceiling, should it come up unannounced.
Another whispered command opened the way back for her, and she landed on the solid surface, somehow feeling even colder, and ignored Myrtle's wailing from the nearby toilet. She turned, intending on getting wrapped up beneath her blankets; it was still plenty dark in here.
And then she came face to face with Professor Lupin, his wand drawn and aimed at her, his free hand outstretched towards her.
"Turn out your pockets," Lupin said. Hazel chewed the inside of her mouth. Lupin stretched out his hand again.
Hazel reached into her robes, leaning her broom against the closest sink. She handed over her shrunken books one by one, then her scrolls and parchments and quills. Lupin didn't even comment on the quality of her spell work; it was very hard to shrink everything down to a reasonable level. She stopped when she finished it all, leaving only two things hidden.
"You have more," Lupin said plainly. Hazel hesitated, then unclasped her wand from her wrist and handed it over.
"That's it," she said.
"You cloak," Lupin said plainly. Hazel grimaced further, but she handed it over, thinking a thousand different curses. She hated losing it.
"You have more," Lupin said again.
"No, I-"
"Do not make me search you, Hazel," Lupin said. "I can tell when you're lying. You look slightly to the left before making eye contact, just like your father did."
"It's just parchment," Hazel said. She pulled out the clump of papers that made up the Marauder's Map, then handed it over. She hoped he wouldn't question why it wasn't shrunk like the rest of her assignments.
Lupin raised an eyebrow at it, handed Hazel back her school belongings, then placed the tip of her wand on the map.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Lupin said. Hazel let out a little gasp of surprise, hoping that the map wouldn't work for a member of staff.
To her horror, the map filled in immediately, and Lupin clenched his jaw.
"Where did you get your hands on this?" Lupin asked.
"Nicked it from Filch," Hazel said. It wasn't the full truth; the twins were the ones who nicked it. She was just the one who owned it now.
"And it never occurred to you," Lupin continued, sounding annoyed, "That a map that shows your precise location should not be turned over to a member of staff?"
"Why would I-"
"There is a dangerous individual who jeopardizes your safety, Hazel," Lupin said patiently. "And he would have loved nothing more than to find something exactly like this."
"He wouldn't have known how to-"
"I can promise you he knows how to activate the map. I assume this is how you found your way into Hogsmeade?"
"Maybe," Hazel said through pursed lips.
"Something like this is extremely dangerous, Hazel," Lupin said. "The creators of this map would have loved nothing more than to lure you out of the castle, especially when it is so dangerous. They would have found it funny."
Hazel stayed silent, having had enough with the conversation. She knew all along what would happen if she was caught; she deserved this.
"You will follow me immediately," Lupin said, opening the door for her to walk ahead. Hazel pushed past him, then waited outside for him to take the lead.
"Goodbye, Lily," Myrtle said solemnly. Hazel didn't respond.
Hazel expected to be taken upstairs, but Lupin set off downwards, so Hazel followed after him. She thought he might be taking her to the common room, and she started feeling the fear creep back in. She considered explaining herself, but she stayed silent. She knew better. Trying to make excuses would only make it worse.
As they neared the Great Hall, Hazel feeling like her suspicions were confirmed, she heard two people arguing (although one was a lot louder than the other).
"I must maintain order, Dumbledore," Cornelius Fudge roared, his face a bright red. Dumbledore stood in front of him, his hands calmly pressed together, smiling as if he was dealing with an angry toddler.
"I will not allow a single dementor within these castle walls, Minister," he said, his voice managing to carry through the quiet. "I believe I have made that quite clear."
"You forget who is in charge, here, Dumbledore," Fudge said. "I am the Minister for Magic, not you, and the dementors go where I command."
"You have no jurisdiction within these walls as of yet, Cornelius," Dumbledore said a bit less warmly. "And the Governors agree with me that the dementors are not to come inside. I will chase them off myself if you try it."
"Then I will station them outside the walls," Fudge said, sounding ecstatic at the thought of a loophole. "Dawlish, give them the orders, have them search the outside of the castle for the girl, we have to find-"
"There will be no need, Minister," Lupin said. They were off the stairs, now, and Hazel thought all the adults in the room seemed very relieved to see her. Except, of course, for Snape and McGonagall, who seemed absolutely livid. Hazel wondered how long it would be before the two of them lectured her. She deserved worse. She'd get it from Snape.
"Thank Merlin," Cornelius said. There was a dark-robed man standing near him, looking confused. "Cancel the search, Dawlish, but order them to stand guard around the perimeter of the building, I don't want so much as a single crack left open."
"I do not believe that is necessary, Cornelius," Dumbledore interjected. "With Miss Potter secured, there is no need to-"
"I will not have Black break in again, Dumbledore," Fudge said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "We must be seen to be doing something, neither of us can survive a scandal like the last year. Go, Dawlish, and be quick about it."
Lupin and Hazel came to a stop a few metres away, both standing there awkwardly. Hazel tried to ignore the murderous stare Snape was giving her. At least McGonagall was avoiding her direction completely. Dumbledore approached the two of them.
"Where did you find her?" he asked. He didn't even look at her. Hazel didn't like that. Dumbledore always gave a smile. She stared down at her feet.
"Where we were told she would be," Lupin said. He handed the Headmaster her wand, and Dumbledore inspected it closely.
"And we are sure it is her?"
"Who else would I be?" Hazel asked, forgetting her circumstances for just a moment.
"That is her, Headmaster," Snape said coldly. Hazel didn't even notice him approach. "Only Potter would be so flippant considering the circumstances." Hazel started grinding her teeth again.
"How many wands have you owned, Lily?" Dumbledore asked, still inspecting her wand.
"Two," Hazel mumbled.
"That will do," Dumbledore said. He handed her wand back over, holster and all, and Hazel fixed it back to her left forearm. "Severus, please escort her into the Great Hall. I believe she will be needing a sleeping bag."
"I will need a word with her first," Snape said.
"Do as you must. The rest of you, continue your search of the castle. I must speak with the Minister in my office to further discuss these matters."
Lupin walked away from the group, Dumbledore heading off to walk with Fudge. Hazel watched the rest of the staff go, feeling the horror in her stomach grow as she realized they were leaving her alone with Snape. The Potions professor seized her by her arm and dragged her hard over to the Great Hall doors. Hazel didn't protest or fight it, she knew full well to expect.
"Well, well, well, Potter," Snape said, his anger turning to a strange sort of satisfaction. "I hope you have enjoyed your days of superiority and bending the rules. They are done from henceforth." Hazel stayed silent as he leered at her, his sneer growing. "Do you have any idea what has transpired this night?"
Hazel stayed quiet.
"Sirius Black has broken into the castle, Potter," Snape said. Hazel felt her heart sink. "Oh, yes, he has found a way into these very walls. Imagine our surprise when, upon bringing the students into the Great Hall for the night, the one he was after was missing from their numbers. What were you doing out, Potter?"
"Homework," Hazel lied.
"Out of your common room and well past curfew?" Snape asked with a raised eyebrow. "Do you have any idea how much danger you put yourself in with your stupidity?"
Hazel stayed silent. She should have just done that in the first place. Lying was a stupid idea, just like it always was.
"Never, in all my years, have I met a girl with such a foolish lack of self-preservation," Snape said. "I suppose it is only natural. Your father often found himself in similar situations. Your mother would be so ashamed."
"Don't," Hazel said quietly, the sound barely reaching her own ears.
"I will not be taking points from Slytherin," Snape said, nudging his head towards the emerald hourglass, "for there are not enough points remaining to be a severe enough punishment. Nor will I suspend you, as the Headmaster believes it essential that you remain housed here at Hogwarts. You are lucky for his insistence, Potter; without him, I would have seen you expelled long ago."
"How many?" Hazel asked, knowing where this was going, just trying to make Snape's taunts end as quickly as possible.
"Oh, every day," Snape said with a sneer.
Hazel nodded, but Snape must have taken it for indifference or indignance.
"I'm afraid you have no say, Potter," Snape said, giving her the same look he always gave Professor Lupin. "Whenever you find yourself out of class, excepting, of course, your punishments with other members of staff and Quidditch practice, you will report to my classroom, where you will remain until curfew. After your final class of the day, you will report immediately to supper. You will eat, quickly, and then you will come to my office. I will escort you back to the common room myself, where you will remain for your sleep. The Prefects will watch for you, Potter, and I will know if you attempt to sneak out. I will inform you as to the nature of your punishment tomorrow morning. In the meantime, you are to sleep in the Great Hall with the rest of the students, as below you as you may deem them to be."
"I don't think they're-" Hazel started to say. She flinched, interrupting herself, expecting the familiar pain on her cheek when Snape waved his wand. She barely managed to catch the sleeping bag he conjured. Without a word, Snape opened the doors and shoved her inside. She barely managed to catch herself, almost falling flat on her face.
Most of the students, each sleeping on a section of floor, were asleep, and didn't so much as stir at her intrusion. A few glanced up and then laid their heads back down. Three people in the back, however, waved to her eagerly, motioning for her to come join them.
Hazel ignored Hermione, Neville, and Ron, pretending not to see them, and took up in the opposite corner, where she curled up in her sleeping bag, hating herself.
Despite how tired she had been in the Chamber, she found that she could not fall asleep. Not with how sick she was feeling. She settled for staring out the stained-glass, where the pale moonlight was leaking in. She could position herself directly in the corner, leaning into the stone, which gave her a nice view. She regretted it almost immediately; she felt the cold before she could see the source.
Before the cloaked dementor, her spectre of dread, took up a post in front of the glass, staring inwards, straight towards her, bringing the worst of her memories back to the forefront of her mind. Hazel buried her head between her knees, pulling them in close to her chest, wishing the world would just leave her alone.