Hazel didn't sleep at all that night. She was too tired to yawn, too tired to even blink properly. Her eyelids rested too heavily. She had to exert effort to pry them open every single time. She might have been worried about falling asleep during a class again if it wasn't for the dementors constantly hovering outside the windows. No matter where she went in the castle, she couldn't escape them. The sole place where she felt even slightly normal was the dungeons; the cold of the dementors couldn't quite pierce through all the layers of soil and stone. For the first time in weeks, she was looking forward to returning to the common room in the night.
She piled food on her plate in the crowded Great Hall, but she found she had no appetite. Despite the presence of the dementors, despite the gloom they gave her, nobody else seemed to care. The rest of the students were still talking, still eating, still laughing. She looked up again towards the Gryffindor table. Ron was wearing that stupid smile on his face, talking rapidly about something with Seamus and Dean. She couldn't stand it.
Hazel left the breakfast table early, as ordered, and dragged her feet down towards the Potions classroom. She knocked, as commanded, and Snape whisked the door open seconds later.
"You will find your assignment in the corner," he said without sparing her a glance. "You are to reorganize and take a full inventory of the school's records. You will start on the A's. You will copy each record, by hand, on the parchment provided and then set the old ones to the side. I will know if you attempt to skip any, Potter. You may work until class starts. You may eat lunch afterwards, but you will return here when you are done."
Hazel took a seat, staring emptily at the mountains of boxes around her. There was a scroll, quill, and ink provided for her. She took the first box, blew the dust off the cover, and dipped the quill in the ink. She didn't expect to make much progress today. If she was lucky, she might be done by the time she turned 16.
She managed to get through three whole boxes before she was forced away from her corner. The Slytherins might have laughed at her as they entered, but the Hufflepuffs, at least, seemed sympathetic. Megan Jones even saved her a seat, something that hadn't happened in a while. Hazel appreciated the smile she was given when she sat down.
"All right, Hazel?" she said, digging through her bag for her textbook. Hazel just nodded, feeling as if she was as far from it as she could possibly get.
Hazel managed to eat half a plate for lunch, but only because they were kindly provided steaming mugs of cocoa to mitigate the effects of the dementors. Hazel didn't think it helped as much as the staff hoped it would. It certainly didn't make her feel much better.
She returned to the classroom soon after. She hesitated outside the door; she could hear Snape giving a lecture within. She knew this would happen eventually; she just didn't expect it so soon. She took a deep breath and then pushed her way inside.
Snape stopped midsentence, raising his eyebrows at the intrusion as if he didn't expect it. The heads in the room turned towards her. She ran her tongue over her teeth as she recognized all the faces; this class was the third year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. Hermione looked horrified to see her. She had Neville partnering with her, who was so distracted by his hissing cauldron that he didn't notice everybody else looking back at her. Ron just looked confused; he was partnered up with Lavender Brown. Hazel wondered how that happened.
"Can I help you, Potter?" Snape asked quizzically.
He wants a show, Hazel thought. She briefly considered refusing to play along. That would only make things worse.
"I'm here for my detention, Professor," Hazel said through grit teeth. A few students laughed nervously, as if they thought she was kidding.
"And what is it you are being punished for?" Snape asked. Neville finally looked up, his face matching Hermione's.
Hazel chewed at her cheek, refusing to look at any of the kids around her. She could feel her burning face. She was hoping it wouldn't get any worse. She should have known what a stupid idea that was.
"For sneaking out past curfew, sir," she said.
"And what is your punishment?" he said.
"To rewrite all the school records, sir," Hazel said dutifully.
"Best get to it," Snape said. "And be certain not to disturb my class. You will not like the results if you do."
Hazel went right to her desk. The class was completely silent as she started to work. Very few people dared to speak, and those that did spoke only in ghostly whispers.
Hazel hated them all. They were supposed to be brave, but not a single person would look at her, would meet her eyes. Hermione, Ron, and Neville seemed ashamed to have her in the same room. They were supposed to be her friends, but not a one of them would talk to her unless they needed something. She had to grab a second quill when the first snapped in her grip.
Hazel was completely exhausted as Snape led her to the common room that night. She couldn't remember ever being this tired before, this drained. Snape didn't say a word until they reached the blank wall. Even then, he spoke only the password, and then he pushed her inside, so hard that she slipped and fell to one knee.
Hazel ignored people muttering and staring around her. She desperately wanted to get to sleep, but she still had so much homework to get through. McGonagall would make things worse if she didn't get through at least some of it. She settled on occupying a table in the dorm, where there would be fewer people to bother her. She didn't even make it to the girl's corridor.
"Potter, where do you think you're going?" Montague called out. Hazel turned to face him, wishing he'd just leave her alone.
"Do we have to?" she asked.
"If you want to play, you do," Montague said. Pucey was following behind him, looking utterly irritated. She considered refusing; she wasn't sure she wanted to play anymore. But flying was the one thing that made her feel better. She had to stay.
Besides, if she didn't play, the other girls would probably kill her. Part of her wondered if that would be preferable.
"Can we keep it short?" Hazel asked in a pleading tone. "I really need to-"
"You're done when I say you're done, Potter," Montague said. "Now, let's get to it."
Hazel was wrong. She could be more tired. Even as the room emptied around her, she lay collapsed on the stone floor, staring up at the bright ceiling, completely unable to move. Soon she was left in total silence.
It took her far too long to crawl her way up. She managed to sit herself at a table, managed to pull a book out of her bag, but then she closed her eyes, just for a second, and woke up in the morning as somebody was pouring a bottle of ink over her head.
"Snape's looking for you, Heiry," Malfoy said with a sneer. "You'll want to clean yourself up. You look like those disgusting books of yours." He left her there, dripping black liquid all over the table and floor.
The week passed by in a blur. Her head was hurting every day, now. This time around, she had to deal with constantly pushing her bad memories into the back of her head while also getting very little sleep. The nightmares were coming to her so frequently now that the other Slytherin girls frequently poured water over her, so she'd wake and stop her noises. She tried sleeping on the common room couches a couple of times, but that earned her more punishments.
Before Hazel knew it, the first weekend of November was over. It was exhausting, but it was far more preferable than the normal week. She still had to spend most of the day with Snape's asinine detentions, but Montague didn't work them any harder on the weekends, on account of their actual training sessions. She spent the extra free time laying in her bed and staring up into the deep, green waters of the Lake, wondering what would happen if she just decided to disappear into the Chamber of Secrets forever.
Hazel entered the Potions classroom on Monday just as she did the previous week, this time making a beeline towards her desk in the corner.
"Potter," Snape said from the front. "May I help you?"
Hazel froze, glancing around at the rest of the confused classroom.
"Sir?" she asked.
"Forgive me," Snape said, "I forgot your feeble mind is too slow to keep up with the most basic of questions. What, may I ask, are you doing in my classroom?"
Hazel felt her face flush again. She refused to look at any of her former friends. She wouldn't be able to bear their smiles.
"You know what I'm here for," Hazel said angrily.
"I'm afraid I haven't the slightest idea," Snape said. Hazel started grinding her teeth.
"I'm here for my detention, sir."
"And what did you do to earn it?"
"I snuck out after curfew, sir."
"And what must you do as punishment?"
"Rewrite all the school records, sir."
Snape smiled at her cruelly. "Well, you best get to it, Potter. Be certain you do not disturb my class. You will not like the results if you do."
Hazel held back the retort on the tip of her tongue. Snape stared at her, as if he was daring her to say something. She walked over to her desk, picked up her quill, and began writing from where she left off the previous night.
She was starting on the B's. She worked as quickly as she could, ignoring the pounding in her head. She didn't sleep at all the previous night.
She almost missed it in her bleariness. She stopped writing, giving the old record another look to make sure she didn't imagine it.
Black, Sirius and Potter, James
Crime: Planting dungbombs near the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room.
Punishment: Scrubbing the dungeon corridors by hand.
Hazel wondered why her father would have been around Sirius Black. She riffled through the rest of the current box. Every single record in here was for Sirius Black, some of them solo, some of them with her father or some other student. She wondered-
"I don't see any writing, Potter," Snape said, his voice carrying through the silent classroom.
Hazel got back to work, deciding it wasn't worth the investigating. Her father was a troublemaker, she already knew that. It was only natural he'd receive punishments with all sorts of people. She settled into a silent rhythm, just trying to get through it all as quickly as possible.
"You have not turned in a single assignment since our last discussion, Potter," McGonagall said, rubbing at the bridge of her nose.
Hazel nodded in confirmation.
"May I ask why?"
Hazel shrugged. Being tired wasn't a good enough excuse.
"I cannot help you if you won't talk to me, Lily," McGonagall said gently.
"Hazel," Hazel said quietly.
McGonagall frowned at her. "You no longer wish to go by your mother's name?"
Hazel shrugged again. She didn't feel like she deserved it.
"Talk to me, Hazel."
Hazel stayed silent, staring at the floor. What was the point in talking, when it only seemed to get her into deeper waters?
"If this is in response to our previous discussions, then I am sorry," McGonagall said. "
Hazel shrugged again.
"You have to complete your assignments, Hazel. I know your OWLs seem far away, but you will not be able to complete them if you fall behind now."
Hazel was pretty sure she'd never make it that far.
"Very well, Potter," McGonagall said with a deep sigh. "I will see you next week. Please, try to get some rest."
Hazel left the room as ordered, but she went straight down to Snape's classroom where she would be expected.
Hazel left the training room earlier than previous nights. Montague knew she simply could do no more, and he finally showed some restraint. Her tiredness reached a level where her body no longer felt real, like it belonged to her. She felt like she was almost watching herself in the third person, as if she was floating along while a tired, ugly girl trailed slowly through the hallways. Every time she looked in the mirror, now, it felt like she was looking at someone else's face. Her cheeks were thinning and pale, her hair wiry and thin, her eyes baggy and dark. She was no longer washing her face (always far too tired when she returned to the dorm), and there were clusters of acne spread over it. She hated herself.
She wished the stranger would just give up and die, so she would no longer have to watch all this misery.
The instant she got back to her bed, she tore off her school robe, left it on the floor, and climbed up the wall towards her mattress, throwing herself into it face down. Her muscles were too stiff to fall asleep immediately; they ached as she lay still. She knew from experience that it would stop hurting eventually, so long as she didn't move.
"Lily, I need to talk to you."
Hazel opened her eyes. Sae was hovering on the side of the bed, hanging onto the railing. She looked tired and as if she was about to cry.
"Sleeping," Hazel said. She closed her eyes again.
"Lily, please, I just need to-"
"Hazel," Hazel corrected, eyes still closed.
"Sorry. Hazel, I just need to talk to you. Please."
"Talk," Hazel said, even though it was the last thing the girl wanted to do.
"I'm sorry. I- I never should have done what I did. Can you please just talk to me? I can't take much more of this."
"Talk to somebody else," Hazel said.
"There is nobody else," Sae said, her voice breaking just a little. "Nobody else has talked to me all year."
"I wonder why?" Hazel grumbled. "I suppose that's my fault, too, isn't it?"
"Lily, please, I-"
"Stop calling me Lily," Hazel said. "You're just like all the girls at Primary, you pretend to be my friend, I trust you, and you- you- I'm not falling for it again. Leave me alone."
Hazel rolled over, pulling her blanket tightly to her chin. She didn't at all enjoy the look on Sae's face. She heard the girl climb down, and then lay down on her bed below.
Hazel couldn't sleep anymore, no matter how hard she tried to get comfortable. She laid there for what felt like hours, listening to occasional sniffs from Sae below.
The rest of the week went exactly the same way as she'd been dreading; when Hazel entered Snape's classroom, he pretended he didn't know why she was there, so she could embarrass herself in front of each class again. With every hour she spent in his presence, she found it harder and harder to believe that she ever thought he wasn't the most horrible excuse for a human being ever put on this planet.
Hazel got up from another unsuccessful meal, feeling sorry for herself. She wished one of the professors would say something to Snape on her behalf; they had to know what was going on. Lupin had always been so nice, but he wouldn't even look her in the eye anymore.
No, only Lily got rescued, and now Hazel had to deal with the consequences.
Hazel dragged her feet, hardly able to lift them off the ground. She felt a sharp pain on the back of her legs as she walked, and she tripped, landing hard on her hands. Daphne Greengrass laughed loudly from behind; the girl was quite fond of hitting her with Stinging Hexes whenever she got the chance. Hazel pushed herself back up, left wrist aching. She rubbed at it as she left, ignoring the laughs from the other Slytherins.
"Lily!" Ron called out as she entered the Great Hall. He gave her a tired smile as he approached, but she didn't believe it at all.
"What do you want?" she asked harshly.
"What was that in there?" Ron asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Nothing," Hazel said.
"You should go to the Hospital Wing," Ron said, gesturing to the wrist she was still holding.
"It's none of your business," Hazel said.
"Lily, I'm just-"
"Hazel," Hazel corrected.
"What?"
"It's Hazel," Hazel repeated.
"Oh," Ron said sheepishly. "Right. Hazel, I was just-"
"What are you doing out here?" Hazel asked. "You're supposed to be in Potions."
"Skived off," he said with a shrug. "I needed to talk to you, and that git never would have let me in there. Listen, you don't need to keep doing this to yourself, you can just refuse."
"Ron, what do you think would happen if I did that?"
"I dunno," he said with another shrug. "But it has to be better than this, doesn't it?"
"I'm fine," Hazel said. "Can I go now?"
Ron looked like he desperately wanted to say something, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Hazel knew what that was like.
"You ready for the game?" he said instead.
"Yes," she lied. "Weather's supposed to be awful."
"Course it is, with those bloody things around, it always is. Listen, we're throwing a party in the common room afterwards, no matter who wins, if you want to come. I reckon we could sneak you in."
Hazel blinked in surprise, feeling the cold lift just a little bit. "You want me to come?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Ron asked with a curious smile.
"Even- even after I let Weasley into the dorm? I- even with Scabbers?"
Ron made the same expression again, this time with more pain behind it.
"Listen, forget about Scabbers, really, he's- well, he's always been a bit useless, hasn't he, and he- he was old, just like you said."
"But, he's-"
"Look, do you want to come or not?" Ron said impatiently.
"Yes," Hazel quickly, "I'd love to. I- err- don't have the cloak, though, if that's what you were planning. Lupin took it."
Ron swore, then looked around before leaning in again. "I'll talk to the twins, don't worry, they'll figure something out. Want me to walk you to Potions?"
"No," Hazel said. "I'll be all right. I'll- I'll see you at the game."
"Potter, really, this is getting ridiculous," McGonagall said harshly.
Hazel sank further into her seat, not saying a word.
"All of November gone, and not a single assignment turned in for any class," McGonagall continued, her pacing growing faster and more irritated. "And, still, you have nothing to say in your defense?"
Hazel shrugged, still staring at the floor.
"Hazel," McGonagall said more softly, leaning forward and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Look at me."
Hazel looked up reluctantly. McGonagall looked exhausted and angry, but she was trying to smile.
"What is going on, Hazel?" she asked.
"Nothing," Hazel said quietly.
"I cannot help you if you won't talk to me," McGonagall said.
"I'm fine," Hazel said.
"You're not fooling anybody," McGonagall said. "I promise you, Hazel, we have all noticed, and we wish nothing more than to help you."
Hazel looked back at the floor. She didn't believe it, not one word. They knew what was wrong, they'd seen it, but they still did nothing. The same day Ron talked to her, the same day she thought things might be getting better, Malfoy hit her with a Tripping Jinx in the hallways, right after Ancient Runes, and she tumbled down a full flight of stairs. There were Prefects, they had to have seen, but not a single person tried to help her up, not a single person was reprimanded. They just laughed.
They didn't want to help, they just wanted to make her feel worse.
"If it is an issue with my presence, Hazel, I can arrange for somebody else," McGonagall said. "Would that help?"
"I'm fine," Hazel insisted. She'd deal with this on her own, just like she did everything else.
She didn't need anybody.
Hazel slept as long as she dared on Saturday morning. She put on her Quidditch robes in the common room, to avoid the changing rooms, and then hauled her broom to the Great Hall where she ate a plate of eggs and fried potatoes. It was more than she had in weeks, but she knew she needed it, even if she didn't deserve it.
Especially considering the weather conditions. The wind and rain were already blowing through the open Entrance Hall doors, and Hazel was soaking wet before making it outside. She had absolutely no idea how they were expected to play in these conditions. Even just walking down to the pitch, the wind was blowing so hard it threatened to drag her back to the castle by her cloak tails.
Oliver Wood might have tried bolstering the team spirits with a rousing speech. Graham Montague had a completely different set of values.
"We're going to win this," he said simply, "and if you mess this up for us, I'll kill you." His eyes lingered far too long on the shivering and dripping form of Hazel.
Hazel could barely hear the roaring crowd over the din of thunder and pounding rain. At least the spectators had magical shields and umbrellas to protect them from the worst of it. Hazel even saw quite a few conjured blue flames around the stands.
Montague and Wood walked towards each other, clasped hands firmly, but briefly, and then walked back to their respective lines. Ron looked like he might lose his breakfast. Hazel felt ashamed that all she wanted was for him to lose. She somehow still hoped that things would get better if she could just catch the Snitch. She stared down at her boots, the crowd a dull roar. She was sinking into the mud, very slowly. She wished it would just swallow her.
Hooch was blowing her whistle, and they all kicked off the ground. Hazel felt her boot almost slip from her foot, but it came with her.
"AND THEY'RE OFF!" Lee Jordan announced. Hazel missed whatever he said next over the thunderclap directly over her head. She didn't miss the next one, though, nor the deafening cheers of the crowd. "KATIE SCORES! 10-0, GRYFFINDOR!"
Hazel flew past blurry figures of red or green, searching around desperately for just the smallest flicker of gold. That was probably the fastest goal she'd ever experienced in any of the games she played.
Hazel risked a glance, trying to find Katie, wanting to see her smiling face.
"MONTAGUE SCORES! 10-10!"
"Right," she grumbled. There was a Quidditch game to win.
Hazel went as high as she dared, trying to get a better vantage point. She nearly collided with Ron. She only saw him at the last moment when he was illuminated by a bolt of lightning. She dove underneath him, sacrificing the better spot for a point of safety. She had to constantly readjust her grip on the broom; her cold and numb fingers could barely hold on to it. She rubbed at her eyes with a frozen hand; she could hardly keep them open between her exhaustion and the frosty wind.
"KATIE BELL SCORES AGAIN! 40-10, GRYFFINDOR!"
Hazel started grinding her teeth. At the rate they were going, the game would be entirely based on her. She needed to find the Snitch fast. She dove down low, hoping Ron would fall for it. It would be very hard to pull up in this weather, and she hoped to trick him off his broom. As she soared past the crowd, she heard them cheering for Gryffindor.
No, that wasn't quite right. Those robes were green, and the words were different.
"GO HOME, GRYFFINDOR, GO HOME!"
Hazel swerved in the air, heading towards the opposite side, towards the hissing and booing Gryffindors. She didn't think it was possible to feel any worse, but she was wrong. She wanted this game to be over as quickly as possible.
"That'll be a penalty shot for-"
Hazel missed who it was for. She had to roll to avoid a bludger, adopting a sloth grip, nearly slipped from her broom, and by the time she came back right, the Gryffindors were cheering again.
Hazel flew a while longer, searching around, noticing when the crowd started calling out her name that the rest of the players were all grounded, and Hooch was blowing her whistle. Feeling her face grow warm, she landed as quickly as she could, the mud threatening to swallow her whole.
"What's your problem, Heiry?" Montague said with a sneer. "Hard of hearing? Gryffindor called a timeout two minutes ago."
"I couldn't hear over the-"
"Shut up," Montague said, turning to scan the sky and crowd. "Flint should be done any minute now."
"Flint?" Hazel asked. "He's off the-"
"And whose fault is that?" Montague asked, turning to face her angrily. Hazel flinched away from him, her arms coming up to her chest.
"Back off, Montague," Pucey said, shoving his way between them. The rest of the team shifted around uncomfortably.
"Fine," Montague said, backing off and throwing his hands in the air. "But if she ruins it, you're both done. Gryffindor's finished. Get back in the air."
Hazel didn't wait for any further orders. She pushed off first, grinding her teeth. Wood always made the best of an opposing timeout. Montague might not have said much, but what he did say made her suspicious.
There was one thing she was certain of: Montague was up to something. Flint was banned after her first year, for injuring a player during a suspended game. For injuring her during a suspended game.
Hazel scanned the crowd of Slytherins, trying to find Flint's ugly, troll-like face. It was easier said than done, in this blurry weather. But if they were cheating, then Hazel needed to know what they were doing. She froze in midair as she searched, her eyes locking on to a large, black dog sitting at the highest rafters, staring straight towards her. She wiped at her eyes, thinking she must be imagining things, and it was gone when she opened them. She resumed her search, the Slytherins hissing and jeering at her.
"GO, POTTER!" They screamed at her. She ignored them and ducked when Montague flew past her, swinging at her head. It didn't earn them a penalty; it wasn't illegal to strike your own teammates.
"GO HOME, GRYFFINDOR, GO HOME!" The Slytherins screamed over other jeers and insults. Hazel grit her teeth and kept searching.
After two minutes, and another goal from Gryffindor, Hazel was about to give it up as a bad job when the crowd once again began to roar.
"AND RON HAS FOUND THE GOLDEN SNITCH! GO, RON, GO!"
Hazel looked around wildly, confused, trying to find a glimpse of Ron below her. There was another way to end the game early that wouldn't result in a loss, even if she was too stupid to think of it, and if she could just find him, she could get there first, and then it'd all be over. Nobody was below her, the crowd was screaming, and pointing up, but she still couldn't find him near the ground, he should be-
No, that wasn't right. Last time she saw him, he was above.
Hazel rose as quickly as she could, eyes searching the gray clouds above for a speck of him. A lightning flash aided her, and she curved towards the east, rising higher and higher into the air. She was on a faster broom, she could catch him, she could still save this.
Ron was faltering up in the air, and Hazel was gaining on him quickly. It was hard going, with the wind constantly trying to blow the two of them off course. Hazel gripped her broom handle tighter, trying to ignore her freezing and aching fingertips. Ron was stretching out his arm, reaching for it, she was so close-
The Snitch dove, and Hazel dove after it, Ron now chasing her heels, instead.
"OI, GET BACK HERE!" he shouted after her and it. Hazel smiled as the chase hastened, both Seekers in a wild dive back down to the Earth. Hazel had the faster broom, she was the strongest flyer, they were almost there.
The Snitch showed no signs of changing course, even as they neared the mud below. Only right before it would have hit did it swerve upwards, but Hazel was ready for it, even if Ron wasn't. Hazel dove faster, going below it, and then rose quickly, extending her arm out. She was a second away from grabbing it, she could almost feel it. She saw Fred hitting a bludger towards her, towards the enemy behind, and she sped forward-
Wait, she was the enemy.
The bludger knocked squarely into the center of her chest, and she felt the wind leave her. The bludger wasn't fast enough to stop her forward momentum, but it was enough for her to lose her seat. She hit the mud and rolled several metres, swearing as she hit each hard lump.
"RON HAS THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS! 190-70!"
Hazel lay still, face down in the mud, listening to the Gryffindors scream madly above her.
"GO HOME, GRYFFINDOR, GO HOME!" the Slytherins screamed one more time. Hazel rolled over to face the sky, letting the cold rain beat down on her. She heard people landing nearby and turned to see the beet-red face of Montague stomping towards her. He stopped short and leaned down.
"You're dead, Heiry," he said in a harsh whisper. Then he left, the rest of the Quidditch team following after him. Only Pucey lingered, and only for a second. Hazel let out a little moan as she rubbed at her ribs. Hazel tried to swallow the lump in her throat, tried to wipe away the burning in her eyes.
Why was she so stupid? Why couldn't she just let them cheat and do her job? Everything would have been so much easier, but she couldn't even do that right.
She glanced over to Ron. He was surrounded by the Gryffindor team, beaming at the cheers around him. The Chaser girls each planted a kiss on his cheeks. Hazel looked away as Katie took her turn. She couldn't bear to watch it. She shut her eyes firmly. Her tears felt warm on her cheeks, but she tried to bury her face under her sleeves. She didn't think anything could hide the shaking of her chest or the sounds of her crying, should somebody come closer.
She had no idea how she was supposed to explain this one away. She was there, and then she lost it. The other Slytherins would think she threw the game. They all saw her lingering by them, searching for Flint instead of doing her job. They wouldn't try to stop Montague from doing whatever it was he had planned.
He was the only person keeping it from getting worse, and now she messed that up. She couldn't take anymore.
She was on her own. Nobody was going to help her.
She was still laying in the mud long after the cheers stopped. She could hear the stadium emptying around her. Hooch briefly approached, but Hazel gave her a thumbs up to show she was uninjured, and the woman moved on. She just needed a moment.
The chatter of the crowd was completely gone now. That was her cue to finally get going. She took a deep breath, her ribs aching.
"All right, Lily?" Hermione said as she bent down next to her. Hazel looked over at the worried girl's face. She was completely dry, holding an umbrella to keep the rain off. Hazel hated that.
"Hazel," she said as she finally rolled out of the mud. "Call me Hazel."
"Do you want me to walk you to Pomfrey?" Hermione asked.
"No," Hazel said. She started walking, dragging her broom behind her, rubbing at her ribs with one hand.
"I'm supposed to show you how to get in the common room," Hermione said as she hurried to keep up. She tried to bring the umbrella over Hazel, but she pushed away.
"Katie didn't want to show me?" Hazel asked a bit too harshly.
"I don't think she was asked," Hermione said in a puzzled tone.
"I think I'll pass," Hazel said.
"I thought you promised Ron you'd-"
"Yeah, well," Hazel said, "That was before his bloody brother pushed me into the mud, wasn't it?"
"Lily, I think-"
"Just leave me alone," Hazel said, turning and snapping. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, and then her face hardened.
"Fine, Hazel," she said tersely. "I'm sorry for caring."
"Me too," Hazel said as she walked away. She needed to find a nice, quiet place to hide away, where she could get a few hours alone before her Housemates murdered her.