Hazel didn't remember the descent from the tower, nor how they ended up climbing the stairs to Dumbledore's office. Somehow, Lupin was knocking on the door, and a weary-voiced Dumbledore bade them to enter.

Lupin guided her inside gently, one hand pressed against her back, as if she might turn and flee at any moment. She was too tired for that. Dumbledore smiled and stood, walking quickly over to the two of them. He placed his own hand on her back, guiding her to her usual armchair. Hazel heard the two men whispering behind her, but she didn't try to listen in. She didn't want to.

The door clicked shut. Hazel glanced behind her. Dumbledore was scratching at his beard, pacing along one of his shelves. Lupin was no longer in the room.

Hazel's eyes traced the Headmaster's path around the room. His shelves were loaded with magical instruments and objects. Hazel knew what very few of them did. Occasionally, he would pick up an item, shake his head, and then set it back down.

The portraits of previous Headmasters were pretending to sleep higher up on the walls. Occasionally, Hazel caught one of them staring at her. He always closed snapped his eyes closed and made his snores louder, more forced.

"Have you eaten, Hazel?"

Hazel shook her head. Dumbledore walked towards his desk. He waved his wand over it a single time, and a platter of sandwiches appeared. He waved it again, and a large mug of hot cocoa appeared next to it. A third wave, and her chair was pulled up close to it, to make it easier for her to reach. She sat still.

"Eat," Dumbledore urged. He was back to his shelves. Hazel got the impression he was waiting on something. She took a hesitant bite of the topmost sandwich. It was chicken. She could barely taste it. She finished it as quickly as she could, then took a sip of the cocoa. It burned as it went down her throat. She downed the rest of it, happy just to feel something. When she set the empty mug back down, it refilled itself. She took it back into her hands, although she didn't want to drink anymore. It made them feel warmer.

Dumbledore took something off the shelves. When he turned, he was carrying a raggedy leather hat. He put the Sorting Hat gently in her lap, and then sat down across from her at his desk.

"When you are ready," he said, "I would like for you to talk to him."

"Why?" Hazel asked. Her voice sounded strange.

"I have argued with him for the last few days," Dumbledore said, sounding tired. "I have asked him to sort you back into Gryffindor. He said he would listen to the argument. He will consider one more resorting, so long as the argument is sound enough, and so long as we promise never to ask again. I will walk you through it, but I believe it would do more good if it came from your voice."

"He told me it was irreversible," Hazel said quietly, turning the hat between her fingers.

"He told me much the same," Dumbledore said. "But I believe there must be a way to convince him. He would never have agreed to listen if there wasn't. Take your time. Eat your fill. When you are ready, you may proceed."

Hazel took another sip of her cocoa. "You don't want to- to ask anything?"

"I will not force you to relive the worst days of your life, Hazel, no," Dumbledore said. "The time for talk will come. If you wish to tell me now, you may. For now, I would like for you to eat, to speak with the Hat, and then to sleep."

"You're calling me Hazel," Hazel said. She took another sandwich. This one was ham. It tasted much better.

"Professor Lupin told me you no longer wished to use your mother's name," Dumbledore said. "If you have changed your mind, I will gladly use whichever you prefer."

"I don't know what I want," Hazel said. She reached for another sandwich. Her stomach growled at her.

Dumbledore was quiet while she ate and drank. Hazel didn't realize how hungry she was, but now that she was eating, she found she couldn't stop. Every time she thought she was almost done, she'd down her mug of cocoa, find the platter had refilled itself, and then she'd start all over again.

Finally, though, she could take no more. She took one last bite, set down her mug, and then leaned back into the armchair, closing her eyes, taking the hat between her fingers once more.

She didn't know if this is what she wanted. If she was being completely honest, she was wishing she never came back down from the Astronomy Tower, but she was sure Dumbledore wouldn't want to hear it.

"I take it you have had your fill?"

Hazel nodded.

"When you are ready, then."

Hazel turned the Hat in her hands, eyes still closed. She started reaching for her head, bringing it up with it, but then she set it back in her lap.

"I don't want to," she said. She opened her eyes. She had her mind made up. Dumbledore frowned slightly.

"Hazel," he said softly, "I believe it will-"

"Even if he does resort me, I don't want it," she said. She tossed the hat onto his desk. "I don't want to be at Hogwarts anymore."

"Hazel-"
"I know Lupin must have told you," she said. "And I meant it. I don't want to be here. I can't stand it."

"I'm afraid I must ask why," Dumbledore said.

"You already know why, sir," she said.

"I know you have faced much hardship in your life," Dumbledore said. "I take full responsibility for it. When I left you with your Aunt and Uncle, I never foresaw the damage it would cause. I thought that they might treat you a little less warmly than their own child, yes, but I thought you would still be given a home."

"They-"

"I will not ask forgiveness," Dumbledore continued, "For I do not believe I deserve it. This is my fault, Hazel. All mine. But there is one matter I would like to correct: I did check in on you. I positioned people around you to watch you, to alert me if you needed assistance. Arabella Figg was one of them."

"Figg?" Hazel asked in confusion. "But she was-"

"She is a squib," Dumbledore said. "There were others, but she was the closest. She told me you were unhappy, but I don't think she knew the depths to your treatment."

"I wasn't supposed to tell her," Hazel said quietly. "I- If I'd known she could have helped I- I would have-"

"I thought that, once you were out, when you were at Hogwarts, you would be happier," Dumbledore said. "I believed that you were. You found friends quickly. You were inseparable from them. Minerva often complained about the antics you got into, but she always seemed pleased about it. We were both worried when we saw how small you were, how frightened you seemed to be. You believe you would not be happier back in Gryffindor, back with them?"

"I don't know," Hazel said. "I- there was something that I- I didn't tell Professor Lupin."

"Do you wish to tell me?"

"No."

"I believe I can guess at it," Dumbledore said. "You told Lupin that you couldn't bear to face Miss Granger."

Hazel shook her head. "Please don't say it."

"As you wish. You were not in your right mind, Hazel. The dementors have an adverse effect on those around them, and you were already having trouble without them. They made things worse. Fudge forced them upon us, but I have forced them away."

"It wasn't the dementors that were the worst of it, sir," she said.

"No, but they are the cause of it. They have been affecting everybody, Hazel. Your classmates have treated you unfairly because they, too, are suffering, and they lashed out at an easy target. You have already suffered far more than they have, and so fared far worse. In my own misery, I failed to watch out for you. Once again, I am at fault."

"If you say so," she said, not quite believing him.

Dumbledore leaned back in his seat, perching his hands together. "May I ask a favour?" Hazel shrugged. "I would like for you to finish the school year. If, at its end, you still wish to leave Hogwarts, I will assist you in finding another school."

"I don't want to-"

"You will not be able to join another school midterm, Hazel," Dumbledore said calmly. "Most transfers take more than the few months we have left, but I will do everything in my power to make sure you are moved, if that is what you want."

Hazel nodded her agreement.

"Now, if you would drink this," Dumbledore said, procuring a potion from inside his robe, "You will be able to drift off into a dreamless sleep. When you wake, you will be in the Hospital Wing."

"I'm not tired," she said, taking the potion from his hand anyway.

"Even so," Dumbledore said. "You need to rest. When you wake, we shall speak some more."

Hazel stared at the potion, wondering if she could refuse. The cork vanished from the top. When she looked up, Dumbledore set his wand aside, and then nodded firmly. She brought it to her lips and drank deeply. Sleeping Draught always tasted like ice cold water, and this was no exception. The coolness, rather than staying in the stomach, traveled up to her head, settling over her brain like a mist. Before she could gather the willpower to fight it, her eyes were already closed, and she was snoring softly.

Hazel opened her eyes and then rubbed at them to relieve the stinging. The dream was already gone, already forgotten, but whatever it was, she'd been crying. She was getting sick of that.

Her curtains were pulled back to allow her some privacy. She considered getting up herself, but when she attempted to move, pain shot up her leg. She laid back in her pillow, letting out a low groan.

"You're up," Pomfrey said as she opened the curtains. "Good. You'll need your Strengthening Solution."

"What day is it?" she asked. Her throat felt raw.

"Thursday," Pomfrey said. That didn't really answer her question. She couldn't even remember what day she locked herself away.

Pomfrey was pouring something into a cup. Hazel assumed it was her potion. Sure enough, it was forced to her lips, and Hazel downed it. Pomfrey had her wand out, and Hazel saw another flash of silver fly out of it, bouncing straight through the ceiling.

"What was that?" she asked.

"A message for the Headmaster," she said. "He will want to see you, now that you're up. How about some breakfast?"

Hazel didn't even get a chance to answer. Pomfrey snapped her fingers, and a tray appeared on her lap. Three fried eggs and a rasher of bacon. Two pieces of toast. Simple enough. Hazel chewed carefully, not feeling as ravenous as she had the previous night. She still managed to down it all, and just as she set the knife and fork down, the door opened, and Dumbledore walked in, followed by McGonagall and Lupin.

"Sleep well?" Dumbledore asked, waiting for her to nod before he continued. "I'm sorry to do this to you, Hazel, but is time for you to tell us what happened."

"I thought Lupin already did," she said, eyes glancing toward him.

"Professor Lupin, Hazel," Dumbledore corrected. "And, yes, he showed us his memory from that night, but I would like to hear it from you. And, then, I have some further questions for you. Do you mind if they sit with us?

Hazel thought about it for a long time and then shrugged. Dumbledore nodded and motioned for the two of them to join.

McGonagall came forward, walking very quickly, taking up position right next to her. She appreciated it more than she could say. Lupin took up on her side, looking tired and awkward. Dumbledore sat on her other side. A wave of his wand provided the three of them with something to sit on.

"You may begin when you are ready, Hazel," Dumbledore said.

"I don't want to," she said quietly.

"Hazel-"

"He promised it would make me feel better," Hazel said, not looking at Lupin. "It didn't."

"Hazel-"

"I don't want to talk about it!" she shouted. "I don't want to- to think about it. It- it's over, I- I don't-"

"They can't hurt you anymore, Hazel," Lupin said gently.

"Then why do I-"

"You cannot begin to heal until you face it, Hazel," Dumbledore said gently. "Lupin showed us your boggart. You are still-"

"You promised you wouldn't tell anybody," Hazel said viciously. Lupin looked suitably ashamed of himself.

"I thought I'd lost you," he said quietly. "I- I didn't know how to- to help you."

"It was at my insistence, Hazel," Dumbledore said. "Once again, I am to blame."

"I'm not talking about it," Hazel said. "Never."

"Look at me, Hazel," Dumbledore said. Hazel didn't resist. She looked him straight in the eyes.

She felt a tugging on her mind. She was standing in front of the Dursley house, on Privet Drive. The garden was nicely groomed and trimmed, just as it always had to be. If she ever failed to keep it in order, she'd be-

No.

The front door opened, and she stepped inside to the plain hallway. She didn't look at any of the framed photographs lining the walls. She already knew she wouldn't be in any of them. She could hear Petunia screaming in the kitchen about something, but she tuned it out. She wasn't going to listen to her ever again.

I won't do it.

She turned to face the cupboard. The door was open. Inside was everything she always wanted to hide, everything she tried so hard to forget. There was another tug, and she started to remember.

I won't!

She slammed the cupboard door shut, and then she was staring at the Headmaster again, breathing hard.

"Albus?" McGonagall asked. "What was-"

"I won't," Hazel repeated. She wiped the sweat from her forehead.

"Interesting," Dumbledore said.

"What do you mean?" McGonagall asked.

"Have you ever heard of Occlumency, Hazel?" Dumbledore asked.

"You didn't," McGonagall asked in shock.

"It is important she confront these things, Minerva," Dumbledore said. "But it seems I won't be able to force her, even if I want to."

"I won't do it," Hazel said again.

"I will arrange to have Professor Snape teach you Occlumency," Dumbledore said. "It isn't the intended purpose, but it should help you block out any unnatural feelings the dementors bring out."

Hazel considered arguing. The last thing she wanted was to receive private lessons from Snape. It seemed too cruel a punishment, even for her. She somehow brought herself to nod in agreement, feeling disgusted with herself.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Albus," Lupin said. "She needs help, she needs somebody to talk to, not to learn how to push things even deeper."

"I'm not doing it," Hazel said quietly.

"You will also be meeting once a week with Professor Lupin, Hazel," Dumbledore said. "You will speak with him. It doesn't have to be about your past, but you will talk to him. It will do you wonders."

"Fine," Hazel said. She supposed it was the best she was going to get.

Dumbledore sat in silence for a long time, his hands steepled on his chest. Hazel glanced out the window. The sun was setting. How that much time passed, she had no idea.

"Thank you, Lily," Dumbledore said at last, "For your time."

"It's Hazel," she said in a crackly voice.

"If you insist," Dumbledore said with a smile. "But I think you underestimate yourself, Hazel. Your parents would be very proud of you, and your mother would love for you to use her name."

"Albus," McGonagall said softly.

"You are right, Minerva," Dumbledore said. "Now is not the time to argue. Thank you again, Hazel. We will leave you to rest, now."

"I don't want to," Hazel said sheepishly. "I- I want to go home. I- I don't want to- to be here." She never wanted to come back to Hogwarts.

Dumbledore smiled at her again, and then he looked over at McGonagall and Lupin. "Minerva, if you would, escort Hazel down to get her things. I will notify the Weasleys that she is on her way. You may use the Floo in your office. I will arrange permission with the Minister. Remus, I ask you to join me in my office."

"You will need your cane, Potter," McGonagall said, her voice more sturdy, more confident. Hazel forgot all about it, but McGonagall grabbed it from the bedside table, and she took it.

She had to change into fresh robes, first, which meant she had to shower. When they finally got down to the Slytherin common room, they found it completely empty. She supposed that made sense. Sirius Black already broke into the castle once, and next time, he might come to the right common room.

McGonagall waited outside as she fetched the rest of her things. When she made it to her bed, she found her trunk completely unmarked. Somebody wiped the surface clean, filled in the crevices the other students made in it. She expected to find nothing left to pack, but when she checked her mattress, she was surprised to see a bag full of the typewriter parts that went missing. She tucked those inside her trunk, unsure how to feel.

McGonagall took her up to her first-floor office. There was a jar waiting on her desk full of Floo Power, as well as a short note that read "Happy Holidays."

McGonagall handed her the jar, and Hazel took a pinch of it between her fingers. She tossed it into the fire, which ignited into green flames.

"I will send your trunk after you," McGonagall said. "You may go first."

Hazel put a single foot in, then pulled back. She pulled McGonagall into a hug. It seemed like the right thing to do. She did try to help. She failed, but she tried, and that meant more to Hazel than she could say.

"Thanks, Professor," she said. McGonagall returned it after a moment of uncertainty.

"Have a good Holiday, Potter," she said. Hazel saw her wipe at her eyes as they broke away. She took a deep breath, trying to gather the strength to face the Weasleys. She hoped they wouldn't be too angry with her.

Hazel put both feet in this time. "The Burrow."

She spun rapidly, her heart thumping in her chest. What would happen when she came out on the other side? She was just starting to think this was a mistake, that she wanted to go back, when her feet touched sudden ground.

"Hazel!" Mrs. Weasley shouted an instant before a pair of arms were wrapped around her. Hazel wobbled, her cane no longer bearing her weight, and the two toppled out of the fireplace, landing on the floor.

"You're going to kill her, mum," Ginny's voice said.

"Sorry about that, Hazel," Mr. Weasley said as he helped the two of them off the floor. Hazel tucked her cane back underneath her. Mr. Weasley eyed it, but he didn't say anything. He pulled her into a hug, though, and Mrs. Weasley joined them soon after, planting a wet kiss on her cheek.

Hazel glanced around the kitchen, unable to find her voice. It was just the adults, her, and Ginny, who was eating biscuits at the table, staring at the three of them with a raised eyebrow.

"The boys are all out," Ginny said. "Went down to the village."

Hazel glanced over to the Weasley clock in the sitting room. Percy, Fred, George, and Ron were all marked at the "shopping" position. Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny were all at "Home." Bill and Charlie were at "work." They almost always were.

"We didn't know you'd be getting back tonight," Mr. Weasley said, tearing Hazel's eyes away from the clock. Hazel was about to ask why they didn't go with them, but she supposed there was no danger if she wasn't around. They didn't have to be burdened with extra precautions if she wasn't here.

"It's fine," she said when her voice came back. Somehow, Mrs. Weasley forced her to the table without her noticing, and she was already dumping food onto a plate for her. Hazel took a bite of a sausage without even thinking about it, and within a minute, she was given a second plate. Just when she started on that, Weasley hopped into her lap from the ground, and she set down the knife so she could pet him, eating her food with just the one hand.

"Lavender gave him to me when we got off the train," Ginny said. "We thought you'd missed it, see?"

"Ginny, that's enough of that," Mrs. Weasley said sharply. "No need to badger her just as soon as she-"

"It's fine," Hazel said again, taking another bite of food and swallowing it almost whole.

She felt warm. The kitchen was almost too hot, but she found it very comfortable, and her stomach was roaring with hunger. Mr. Weasley took a seat next to her. She could hear Mrs. Weasley frying up more food for her. She slowed down her eating, so there wouldn't be a pause.

"How are you doing, Hazel, really?" Mr. Weasley asked. Hazel took another bite, just to give her time to think.

"I'm fine," she said with a shrug.

"Half the school saw you running away," Ginny said, leaning forward. "Merlin, you ran right past me. I don't think I've ever seen you so-"

"That's enough, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley said from the stove. "Why don't you head on up to your room, you can catch up with Hazel later, hmm?"
"It's fine," Hazel said, taking another bite. "I don't mind, really." She glanced over at her trunk, sitting near the staircase. She never even noticed somebody wheel it over there. "I think I might head up to bed, actually, I'm a bit-"

"You're not going anywhere until you're done eating," Mrs. Weasley said, piling even more food onto Hazel's now empty plate. "You look like you've dropped four stone!"

Hazel glanced down at herself. Sure, she definitely dropped weight, but that was a little extreme. It was one stone at the worst.

"She hasn't been eating much," Ginny said. She was drumming her fingers on the table. "That's what Sae told me, anyway."

"What've you been talking to her, for?" Hazel asked. She had to wave Mrs. Weasley off from dumping more food on her plate. She had no idea how much more she had in her.

"We have classes together," Ginny said. "I think I might be the only person talking to her, actually, nobody else seems to. Her and Luna." Ginny gave a worried sigh.

"Her sister said she didn't have any friends," Hazel said, thinking back to months ago. Taeko seemed so happy when Lily said she wrote to her. Hazel wondered what she would think now. She took another bite of food.

"Yeah, well, that might be my fault," Ginny admitted. "I yelled at her in first year for calling somebody a- well, you know- and she apologized, never did it again. Don't think that made her very popular with the Slytherins."

Hazel nodded in understanding. She chewed for a while, wondering what she could do to avoid more misery once she went back. She stuffed more food in her mouth to avoid the question. She'd find the answer later. She wasn't in the right mind for it at this moment. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to go back. If she just left in the night, when nobody was watching, then they wouldn't be able to make her. Mrs. Weasley dumped the remaining food on her plate when she wasn't paying attention. She didn't mind.

"Ginny, do us a favour, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, pointing over at Hazel's trunk. "Take that upstairs for Hazel, would you?"

Ginny shrugged, but she hopped to it. Hazel could hear her trunk hitting each step. It was awful heavy, now. Ginny seemed to be having trouble with it. She took her last bite, then rose, intending on helping. Mr. Weasley put his hand on hers, and she sat back down.

"You stopped writing home," he said.

"Had us worried, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. Hazel opened her mouth, intending on asking not to speak about this tonight. She closed it. The Weasleys deserved answers. She didn't know how much they already knew.

"Have you been reading them?" Mr. Weasley asked. She shook her head.

"I put them in my trunk," she said.

"Thought so," Mr. Weasley said. He smiled at her. "We were just checking in, I promise."

"What was wrong, Hazel?" Mrs. Weasley asked. She put a hand on Hazel's. She let it happen, didn't pull away. She shrugged.

"A lot," she said.

"When you didn't get off the train, we worried you weren't coming back at all," Mr. Weasley said.

"I wasn't going to," Hazel said quietly. Mrs. Weasley squeezed her hand. "I thought that- I-" Hazel cleared her throat to steady her voice. "I heard the both of you. The night before we left. I thought you didn't want me back."

Mrs. Weasley made a sound, and then Hazel found herself in another tight hug. Mr. Weasley took the place of his wife, putting a hand on one of Hazel's. Hazel swallowed down the lump in her throat, and then put one arm around Mrs. Weasley, who kissed the top of her head.

"That's why you were acting strange the next day," Mr. Weasley said knowingly. "We didn't mean anything by it, Hazel, really, we were just frustrated and worried. You were never supposed to hear it."

"I know," Hazel said, surprised by how strong her voice was. "I- I just- I felt like you didn't want me here. I- I never felt like I- I belonged here, you know? I- I don't want to intrude. I'll leave first thing in the morning, if- if you'll- if you'll let me have one more day."

Mr. Weasley pulled his wife off of her, giving her a look. Mrs. Weasley nodded, and then walked off into the sitting room, where she fussed about below the gaudy Christmas tree. Hazel could see the ornaments she decorated last year hanging proudly in the center. She choked back the coming tears.

"Meant to save it," Mr. Weasley said after a pause. "We were going to give it to you for Christmas. When you didn't show up, we thought we might have to send it to you with an apology. We never wanted you to feel like you weren't wanted. We asked the kids to give you space, we thought you needed it. That's why they left you alone so much while you were all here. I'm sorry, Hazel."

"I-" Hazel said. "I- err- I don't know what they were told about- about what happened."

"Between you and me," Mr. Weasley said, leaning in and lowering his voice. "They told me everything. I told Molly and the kids only that you were having a hard time, that we should take it easy on you. Would you like me to-"

"No," Hazel said, quickly wiping at her eyes. Mrs. Weasley was on her way back. "I don't want them to- to know."

Mr. Weasley nodded as his wife placed a small package on the table, right in front of Hazel.

"Merry Christmas," Mrs. Weasley said as she walked around Hazel. She put her arms around her, giving her a loose hug.

Hazel took the package into her hands, giving it a small shake. It was awful light, and it didn't make so much as a sound. She glanced over at Mr. Weasley.

"I'm sorry we couldn't fix the name," he said with a smile. "Didn't have the time. We can get it changed before the Holidays end."

Hazel tore off the paper. It was a small box, with a see-through lid. She opened it with shaky hands and removed the small clock hand, running her finger over the name "Lily."

"I-" she said, voice thick. "I-"
"Here," Mr. Weasley said. He helped her stand, Mrs. Weasley trying her best to hang on to her. Together, they walked over to the clock in the corner of the sitting room, and the two adults took a step back, letting her have a moment.

Hazel took a deep breath, looking one more time at the small, silver clock hand. She had to lean heavily on her cane; she found she wouldn't be able to stand without it. The clock chimed, and she looked back up. The Weasley boys all switched to "travelling," Bill and Charlie included.

She reached up, hand shaking again, and slid her hand into an open socket. Nothing happened at first, and her heart sank. Then, with three mighty clicks, it slid to its new position.

Home.

Lily couldn't help it; her legs gave out, and she found herself on her knees, the sobs coming to her unbidden. Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley rushed forward, pulling her to them, hugging her.

"I- I- I'm sorry," Lily said, "I- I didn't mean to- to-"

"It's all right," Mr. Weasley said. "Everything's going to be all right."