Harry sat, lost in thought, sitting at the window seat in his dorm. Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville were fast asleep in this midnight hour, and the background of their breathing, unmelodious as it was, wasn't helping to soothe him into slumber in the least. His mind was muddled in thoughts of the past and present, all surrounding Sharlen Down. Thoughts of her younger self in relation to her current state, visions of her conversing with students in class and being called on by teachers, memories of his aunt and uncle laughing at his mere suggestion that she existed, all followed each other around in his head like a game of tag.
He hadn't had a chance to talk to her yet. Ron and Hermione seemed to be against the idea. Hermione insisted there was something about her she simply 'didn't like,' and Ron was firmly against going anywhere near 'Draco's girl;' he hadn't minded her at first, but lately Draco had been her constant shadow—either him or Snape. And all three of them wanted to avoid Snape at all costs, despite his involvement in the Order.
Vaguely he wondered why the teachers seemed so interested in her, why they kept her so distant from the other students. Professors McGonagall and Sinistra always kept her in the back of the class, and Trelawney too from what he'd heard from Patima Patil. When he'd asked her about it, she'd seemed kind of flustered. "That girl's really, really strange. Dear Professor Trelawney doesn't seem to like her very much at all. Her mere stare seems to intimidate the Professor. Whenever she glances over to Sharlen's corner, she always gets all flustered and drops something. Professor Trelawney's predicted her death three times, but Sharlen's also predicted the Professor's. We don't know if she's being serious."
Patima had shaken her head, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "Every time the Professor touches her hand Sharlen looks up at her angrily and asks her something about her past. Something true. It's like when they touch, her eyes go white and she can see patches of Trelawney's past. Just yesterday she asked the Professor what was the name of the dog she saw get hit by a car when she was eight. She nearly fainted."
Without a sound, Harry dressed and swung the Invisibility Cloak over his head. He took off toward the Owlery; he decided he'd write her a letter, to break the ice. First he'd need to find Hedwig, and figure out what the hell to say.
Sharlen stopped her voice mid note as a gasp escaped her lips instead. Someone was opening the door. She transformed and flew up to a perch beside a few other snowy owls and settled in to watch, ruffling her wings around as the other owls were at the sudden cease in song. However, the door seemed to open and shut all by itself. Sharlen sat puzzled for a moment before Harry Potter appeared out of thin air. She nearly lost her balance.
"Hedwig," he called softly, looking around. He spotted Sharlen and held his arm out to her. "Come here, girl, we've got a letter to write." Sharlen's heart started beating faster and faster; she swiveled her head around to find the real Hedwig, but she had been put to sleep by Sharlen's songs. Harry tilted his head slightly and reached up to stroke her feathers softly. "What's wrong, Hedwig?"
Had he really mistaken them? Sharlen clicked her beak a few times in disagreement and transformed in front of him. He didn't take a step back or gasp, just stared. "I'm not Hedwig, Harry," she said simply, carefully—heartbeat threatening to choke her.
"I see that."
"I'm glad you came. I need to talk to you."
Harry nodded, not taking his eyes off hers. "I was just coming to get Hedwig to, erm, so I could write you a letter." He found all he could do, all he wanted to do, was be honest with her. Tell her everything. Tell her everything she'd missed.
Sharlen set her mouth into a half smirk, half grin, trying not to seem too pleased with the outcome of her efforts. "Why hadn't you just approached me?"
"It's not as simple as it sounds," Harry said semi-defensively. So, he had let his friends words get to him. Or was there something else standing in his way? "I have so many questions," he said more gently, almost as an apology for raising his voice at her. She closed her eyes, smiling, and shook her head.
"Now's not the time, Harry," she whispered. "I will answer all of your questions; I owe you as much."
Harry let out a shallow breath but she kept her eyes closed, not daring to look at him. "Why come back now?"
She opened her eyes again, unable to hold back from grinning, her chest full to bursting to have him so close to her. "It was finally time. You can't imagine how I've missed you."
She felt the pressure of his lips on hers pull her face up closer and lost herself in the contact, in the memory of the day she'd had to leave him. She was thankful it hadn't been a vision of the future; she had to admit what was to come frightened her, especially concerning him.
Sharlen pulled away gently, breaking off with slight suction and a smile. "I trust you know your way back," she muttered, stepping away from his embrace with great difficulty. He nodded slightly and picked up his cloak off the floor; he had dropped it when he kissed her. She took his sleeve, careful not to touch his flesh, and folded a small leather book into his hand. "We can communicate through this," she explained, holding up her own little black book. "I duplicated it this morning; I know it's difficult to find me between classes. Yours is empty; mine is full of my memories, all precious, horrifying, and belonging to strangers. When you need me, just tell me so, and I'll find a way to you. Trust me, okay? I'll see you soon." She pivoted, transforming with the graceful gesture, and flew out of the Owlery to finally return to her room, leaving Harry smiling faintly after her, hopeful, yet content.
"I'll meet you guys there, okay? Just go!" Hermione started down the hallway Monday morning, claiming she didn't want breakfast, and that for the fourth time in days she simply 'had something she needed to do.'
"Alright, fess up Hermione. What are you sneaking off to do?" Ron inquired, standing stubbornly in the hall. His stomach growled loudly, but he barely flinched. He definitely meant business. Harry was curious, too.
"I'm not sneaking off!"
"It's sneaking if we don't know where you're going!"
"Since when do you have to know where I am at all times?!"
"Guys, calm down," Harry said firmly, glancing between the two. "We're just curious, Hermione. Come on, tell us where you've been going lately." Sighing, Hermione followed them toward the Great Hall, defeated. Ron wondered why she hadn't just given in to him instead.
The trio passed Sharlen in the Great Hall; Hermione scowled wearily, Ron gave an uneasy wave, and Harry just watched her simply pass. She smiled at him, and him alone, before transforming; she seemed pale. As the three of them watched her fly off they noticed her exit was less graceful than usual; she seemed to be having more difficulty getting full strength in the beat of her wings. "I wonder what's the matter," Harry muttered to no one in particular.
"She's the reason I've been 'sneaking off' lately," Hermione explained with a jab of her head in the direction Sharlen had flown off. Harry and Ron quickly looked at her.
"Sharlen?" they both said in unison, although their tones were completely different.
"Yes, Sharlen Down," she repeated, seating herself at a more abandoned end of the Gryffindor table. Harry and Ron followed suit, interested now. "I went back to ask Professor Lupin about her, and at first he said he couldn't tell me anything. So I went to—"
"The library," the boys finished in unison.
"Yes, and there's isn't a 'Down' wizarding line anywhere. So I went back to Lupin, and the second time he said so, too, something about 'protecting student's privacy' and all that." She waved it aside as though Sharlen didn't have any right to privacy.
"Go on," Ron urged her.
"It took some convincing, but he of course finally told me some things about her, and I'm not liking what I'm hearing." Hermione poured herself some pumpkin juice but frowned into it instead of drinking.
"What kind of things?" Harry asked eagerly. Ron nodded.
"Lupin claims her roots run very, very deep into the Dark Arts," she began, "Deeper than anyone else we know who's in Slytherin. He said that she's an orphan, that she doesn't have any parents, but he did tell me that she does have a guardian. Professor Snape adopted her."
Harry's eyes nearly fell out of his head. Ron spat his pumpkin juice all over Neville… who was a decent enough distance away.
Hermione pressed forward. "I couldn't get much more out of him about her parentage, but, he told me more about her powers. She's been an Animagus for a long, long time; since she was a child. She can't use wands; she casts spells with her mind, wordless spells, so in duels an opponent wouldn't know what was about to hit them-"
"Why on Earth would Lupin tell you all this?" Ron asked incredulously. Of course, Hermione ignored him.
"—which, as you can imagine, is a serious advantage. She's way ahead of our year in that regard. She's a Divine, a real one, not like that hag Trelawney. When she comes in contact flesh-to-flesh with someone, she gets visions of either their pasts or futures, so she doesn't let anyone touch her. She can see auras. That's why she flies to all her classes and doesn't come to meals; when she's around too many people at once all the positive or negative energy builds up and she can't break it down or process it fast enough. It's really damaging, supposedly. She's collapsed from it before." Harry only half-listened; he already knew or remembered most of what she was saying.
"Well, someone's certainly done their homework," Ron muttered to lighten the tension. He shoveled more scrambled eggs into his mouth. "You sound like a stalker, Hermione. Or, even worse, Lupin sounds like a stalker. Did you find out about the stickers?"
Hermione shoved him, but Harry just put his hands into his pockets so they wouldn't see him fingering the little black book she'd given him. When they'd kissed, what had she seen? He was certain she hadn't said anything. It dawned on him then that it had been the first time he'd ever touched her; she'd never let him make skin-to-skin contact before. They used to hold hands all the time, with at least one layer of sleeve carefully slithered between them. Mittens. Jackets.
"What was that you said about Snape adopting her?" Ron asked, mouth full of bacon and sausages. Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust and handed him a napkin.
"According to Professor Lupin, Snape didn't even hesitate. He had just unquestioningly taken her in."
"God, no wonder she's crazy; who deserves Snape as a dad?" Ron nudged Harry and jerked his head in the direction of the Great Hall's entrance. "I bet that's why she didn't look so hot this morning. Snape probably tortures or does experiments on her or something."
"That's awful, Ron," Hermione gasped. "No Professor would do that, especially not someone in the Order!"
"It's Snape for crying out loud, why wouldn't he?"
"I just remembered," Harry interrupted, standing, "that I forgot my Transfiguration homework in the room. I'll meet you at McGonagall's class, okay?" Hermione and Ron continued bickering, nodding absently at his words. He raced himself up to the Common Room, now empty, and opened the black book. He dug in his bag for some ink and a quill and flipped to the first blank page. Are you okay? he wrote, glancing around as though afraid someone were reading over his shoulder. You seemed kind of sick this morning. He sat and stared at the paper as though waiting for a reply to bleed onto the page like it had been with Tom Riddle's diary, but nothing happened. The bell for class rang and he reluctantly stood and headed off to class.
However, in the hall he bumped his pocket against one of the banisters and the book slid out and to the floor, opening to the written-on page. There, staring up at him as he paused in retrieval, was her response: I'm sorry to worry you. I'll be fine; I'm quite used to this. I promise to answer all of your questions.
Used to what? he wondered as he continued on his way to class.
Sharlen barely made it to Hagrid's lesson. She skipped Flitwick's class altogether. She'd promised herself she wouldn't ditch her classes, but he'd said that today they would begin work on silenced spells so she figured she wouldn't be missing much. She had to lie down.
Draco had found her last night. Someone had closed and locked the window to her dorm, the one she had purposely left open, and so she'd had to find an alternate route in; all the Slytherin Common Room windows had been locked as well. She'd scoped the view and it had appeared deserted, but when she'd reentered through the main entrance who awaited her but Malfoy the snitch and dear old Snape?
Snape had practically dragged her down to his office by her hair; she hadn't been objecting going with him, but he'd been going much too fast for her to keep up and still keep quiet. Once in the hollows of his dungeon hideout he had forced her to tell him where she'd been and who she'd been with. For fear for Harry's safety, she kept her mouth shut. She'd earned several minutes under the Cruciatus Curse for her disobedience; Malfoy just stood in the doorway and watched, trying not to seem too horrified. He escorted her back to her dorm and was told to stand watch over her, which was completely unnecessary; she'd collapsed onto her pillows and panted herself into sleep within an hour, not moving an inch in or out of consciousness until then.
Stacey woke her up that morning, shaking her and telling her she'd overslept; she hadn't noticed a thing. Sharlen suspected Draco had put her four roommates under a deep sleeping spell once he'd discovered her gone. "You don't look so hot," Stacey informed her, sitting down on the edge of her bed and feeling her forehead through her pajama sleeve. "You don't have a fever, though. How do you feel?" As she'd pulled her hand away a little 'Cutie Pie!' sticker was left in its absence. Sharlen ripped it from her skin.
"I'll be fine, just give me a minute."
Stacey's maternal instincts had taken over by fourth period, just before lunch. They'd been reunited in Transfiguration (Sharlen had skipped Trelawney's class as well) and after nearly passing out while trying to turn a stick of butter into a slug Stacey put her foot down and nearly squashed her own slimy creation. "I don't know what you did last night, but you're in no condition to face Professor Snape," she muttered, placing her slug back on the table before she inflicted further damage upon it. "I'm telling you right now to go to Madame Pomfrey and ask for the rest of the day off."
Sharlen shook her head, swallowing her nausea. "I need to go to Potions-"
Stacey placed a sticker to her lips to quiet her. "NO," she said firmly, gripping her arm tightly as the bell rang and the rest of the Slytherins departed the room. "You're snuggling into some flannels and taking a snooze and that's final."
Sharlen tried to fight her off and settled upon a compromise. "Okay, if I tell you why it's important that I don't skip these next few classes will you let me go?"
Stacey considered this, letting her go briefly to think animatedly. Sharlen pondered how this was possible while she nodded in agreement. "Alright. If you've got good reason, let's hear it."
"Great. I'll explain later." In the time it took for Stacey to comprehend that she'd just been tricked, Sharlen had transformed and taken off. "You better at least rest during break!" she shouted after the snowy owl, which hooted in response; Sharlen had been planning on it.
"Allowing you to fly to classes was supposed to ensure that you got here on time." Sharlen stood by the window of Snape's classroom, glancing wearily at her assembled Potions class; she'd overslept. Her eyes met Harry's and he went to wave, but at the suspicious looks his two friends gave him he set his hand back down, which was wise because Snape's gaze had flicked to him too.
Sharlen sighed. "I-"
"No excuses. Take a seat, Sharlen." Snape bit his tongue as it completed forming the sounds of her name. A whisper rushed through the class and Draco shared a glare with the Potions Master. He never let late students off that easily, nor did he ever call a student by their first name—and this was the second time in a week. Sharlen swept past him to her seat and muttered, "Nice going," as she went.
Ron raised his eyebrows at Hermione and Harry. "Maybe he is her guardian," he muttered, perplexed by these antics.
Hermione puffed up her cheeks angrily. "Had you any reason to doubt my sources?" she asked in a hiss. Ron shrugged. Harry stayed silent.
Throughout the lesson, the energy between teacher and student continued to build. During a brief reading assignment, Snape rested in the shadows, observing Sharlen. He then proceeded to point out that she looked very pale and ask if she was alright. With fire in her eyes she'd responded that she was fine, with emphasis on 'fine.' Once or twice deeper into the lesson he'd set a hand on her shoulder and leaned over her to 'observe her work;' by the end of the lesson Ron was wondering outwardly if they were more than guardian and child.
"How utterly ridiculous, Ron," Hermione had responded to his idea of a professor/student relationship of that nature. "We'd better hurry or we'll be late for Lupin's class."
"What d'you reckon, Harry?" Ron asked. "You've been quiet about it." In truth Harry didn't know. The way they looked at each other was reason enough to believe that there was something more between them, but what he was unsure of. He was also unsure of whether or not it was his place to ask. Not right away, he decided after a while; there was still so much more he had to know. "You can't deny that something's going on; Snape normally treats his students like they're blobs of something foul he'd prefer not to even look at."
Harry shrugged. "It's not really any of our business, I guess."
Sharlen had only gone to Potions to ensure that Snape left Harry alone and wasn't too suspicious, and, with her mission over, she decided to skip Defense Against the Dark Arts as well. When she got back to her room she made a mental note to wake up sometime after classes actually ended, which would be simple enough; she could normally pull herself in and out of naps. She was very shocked indeed to find that she'd woken at eight that evening.
She wearily opened her eyes, stretched, and looked around the room. It was empty at first glance, and dark. Had a storm rolled in? She'd been hoping to meet Harry out on the grounds, but they wouldn't be allowed out in stormy weather… As she pondered how a perfectly sunny day had turned so dark so quickly she caught a glimpse at the moon and nearly fell out of her bed. Grabbing her nearby clock, she realized dinner stragglers would still be leaving the Great Hall. How had this happened?
Ripping her little black book from underneath her pillow, she turned pages furiously and found that two more notes from Harry had been written under their first conversation. One was, Can we meet up after lessons? I have so much to ask you, and the other, Are you sure everything's OK? Sharlen dove almost head-first into Stacey's bag for a quill and scrawled back, Definitely tomorrow. I'm sorry I didn't answer sooner; I needed to rest and lost track of time. I'll visit you later tonight; wait for me. She tucked the book into the waist of her skirt and took off to find Stacey.
Stacey literally ran into her while reentering the dorm room. Sharlen instantly backed off to avoid contact. "Where've you been?" she asked suspiciously. Something inside of her was telling her Stacey was the one to blame for her sleeping in, which she knew was unfair, but she couldn't shake the feeling.
"Ahh, so you've come around," Stacey gasped, completely ignoring her question. She skirted Sharlen and plopped stomach-down onto her bed, kicking her legs and watching her intently. "Did you sleep well?"
"A little too well," Sharlen replied with a yawn. She'd gotten more sleep that day than she'd ever had at one time. She suspected that the curse Snape had put on her the previous night added to the exhaustion of such a highly populated area was to blame, but she still didn't understand how she could have gotten so exhausted.
"Well, I would hope so!" Stacey giggled mischievously.
Sharlen raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"I put a spell on you so that you'd sleep better; you looked like you were having a fit when I came in after classes let out. I figured you'd taken off Lupin's class when you didn't show up. Your sleeping habits are dreadful and you just looked so pale; I thought a good rest might help you out a little," she explained, rubbing a sticker onto the back of her hand.
Sharlen closed her eyes for the sake of remaining calm; Stacey had only been trying to help. She couldn't have possibly known what Sharlen had been planning or thinking. After all, Stacey was still left in the dark about Harry and about who she really was. She stood debating whether or not a good explanation was overdue; Stacey mistook it for aggravation. "I'm sorry if you're mad. I suppose I should have woken you after all, then?"
Sharlen shook her head. "Thank you for not interrupting my sleep, but I would really appreciate it if in the future you refrained from putting spells on me while I'm unconscious." Stacey smiled and nodded to show she understood. Her aura burned gaily, reflecting her nature. No, Sharlen would not tell her yet, not of her parentage at least. She would not burden her and risk putting out that flame. "Just a heads up," she muttered outside of her thoughts, "I'll be taking off later tonight for a little while, so if you happen to wake up with me gone, please don't tell anyone."
"Tell anyone?" Stacey sat up and cleared the smile from her face.
"Draco Malfoy was in our dorm last night, making sure I was in bed," she informed her. "If I'm caught out of my bed again, well… My guardian won't be too pleased, to say the least of it."
"Your guardian…" Stacey repeated slowly as though testing the words on her tongue. "So the rumors are true, then? Professor Snape adopted you?"
Sharlen grimaced. "That's an interesting way to put it… Snape took me in so that I could attend here."
"I've heard of children from orphanages attending here. Couldn't you have simply stuck with your orphanage as a 'guardian'?"
"Are you tired?" Sharlen asked.
Stacey nodded a little. "Yeah, I go to bed early, you know me by now."
"I was just checking," Sharlen muttered.
"I want to hear the story, though," she urged. Sharlen nodded.
"I didn't belong to an orphanage," Sharlen informed her. Stacey tilted her head in cute curiosity and confusion.
"Then were you… living alone?" she guessed, hoping Sharlen would correct her with an answer. "How did you learn about… about that 'time of the month' and everything?"
"It's painful to talk about," Sharlen lied as an excuse to get out of an explanation. Stacey nodded her understanding.
"Now, going back to what you said originally… If old Snapey's gonna get pissed about you skipping curfew then why don't you just stay the night like the rest of us?" Stacey asked, reaching for her favorite bottle of 'Paradise Kiss' orange nail polish and unscrewing the cap. "I mean, if it will keep Malfoy off patrol and OUT of our room…" She grimaced, either at the thought of him watching over her sleeping or from the smell of the polish. "I mean, isn't that illegal? Should we report him for that?"
"I need to go out tonight…" Sharlen muttered, stroking her book. She sat at the windowsill directly next to Stacey's bed and stared at the ground. "I have some promises to fulfill."
"OK, way too dramatic for me," Stacey exclaimed between puffs meant to dry her first coat. "You're always so secretive and introverted. The world's not against you, girl. Would it kill you to let me in, at least, on what your big mission is for tonight?"
Sharlen took a deep breath, and retold her story to Stacey. She told her of how she knew Harry, of how she had been his 'imaginary friend' and had come back now to help him escape his fate. She told her everything she could remember except why she hadn't been able to return to him until now and why she had been his imaginary friend in the first place. When Stacey had inquired about that part Sharlen simply told her that perhaps one day she would tell her. She didn't ask anymore about that.
"That's a lot, Sharlen," Stacey informed her in a breathy voice, staring wide-eyed at her nails. She looked up to her friend with a huge grin on her face. "And it's so incredibly romantic! Coming back into his arms after all these years, reunited with your one true friend, the boy you knew so long ago! Escaping fate and overcoming time and authorities to be with the one you love…" Stacey made a wide gesture with her arms and quickly pulled them to her chest, the bottle of nail polish still clutched in her fist, almost spilling all over her.
"Put the damn cap on…" Sharlen muttered, snatching it away from her. "And I didn't know he felt the same way about me. The kiss was a real surprise."
Stacey beamed. "I'm sorry, I'm just so excited for you! I mean, I have nothing against Harry Potter, and it really is time for something to go right in his life." She nudged Sharlen and winked. "Just don't get into any trouble tonight."
Sharlen sighed. "I'll get out of this without an issue if Draco just minds his own damned business and stays out of our dorm…"
Stacey saluted to Sharlen, smudging the nail polish on her thumb slightly across her forehead. "You leave ickle Malfoy to me." And, for whatever reason, Sharlen did.
