Sharlen spent the majority of her Christmas holiday nestling into the solitude of her dorm—which was seldom ever free of Pansy and the others—and wandering the snowy grounds, admiring her footprints. She also enjoyed flying in the cold and marveling at how lucky she was to get to be outside; before Hogwarts, she was only allowed to fly small distances within the house, and, very seldomly, around the yard. She marveled at her imprint on the world and how small she was, all the while considering Merope's face in her mind's eye for hours.
For hours at a time, Sharlen would go over every detail of the memory Dumbledore had shown her. Once or twice, she seriously considered going back to his office and asking him to show her again, just to have some more time with Merope. The way her brother had taunted her when Tom Riddle rode past… about how he wouldn't have her… How her father attacked her and called her a Squib, a blood traitor… How she had made herself so small. The more Sharlen obsessed over it, the deeper her pity was for the ghost inside her.
She hungered for more information about her, and more memories—surely there were more, surely someone had interacted with her outside of her father and brother in her eighteen years of life. Sharlen wished more than anything that she could look inside herself and see Merope and speak to her; if she had been haunting her father for most of his life, surely she would have some insight into him that would be valuable to Harry and Dumbledore. She may even know what the other Horcruxes were…
Walking around the lake, following footprints she had already left, she stared at the white and thought about letting Merope out to be interviewed. Would she cooperate? Would Veritaserum work on an anchored ghost if it came to that? Sharlen got the feeling that Merope didn't want to come out, considering she must have drank the potion to allow Sharlen to take control after her last blackout.
But more than anything, she wanted to talk to Harry about it and everything she was stewing over as the short, dark days became darker, colder nights. Wandering around and haunting the Slytherin Common Room alone (save for two first years who were also staying at the castle) worrying about a potential attack on Harry, she felt herself folding into several days of silence at a time. She realized, as Harry's snowy owl Hedwig came to visit her the second day after he'd left, that he had left his little black book at the school, which she had to admit disappointed her a little somewhere underneath her ribs. She read his letter over and over before putting quill to parchment in response. It read:
Sharlen,
I've just realized I left the black book in my dormitory—I'm sorry, I know that would have made communicating to each other much more instantaneous. I was distracted thinking about Sirius. If it helps, I also forgot to pack any socks whatsoever.
At first I thought you might be able to fly to the Burrow as an owl, but then I realized you wouldn't know how to find us the way Hedwig would. It's a little easier with Lupin here, but I still feel Sirius's absence. And yours. It seems silly, but I feel a little empty being away from you… it's familiar, like it was always there before you came back, but I never noticed until now.
I hope Snape is not being too horrible to you, and I'm very thankful ickle Draco is home with mummy for the holiday—I don't much like the thought of you two alone in the abandoned Slytherin dorms.
Remembering you, and the feel of your skin,
Harry
Her cheeks reddened the more she read his sign off. When did he become so romantic? Her disappointment, barely a flicker to begin with, died completely when she first glanced his tiny drawing of what must have been mistletoe in the bottom right-hand corner. She laughed a little to herself, stroking a freezing Hedwig, thinking of how Ron would berate him if he ever saw this letter. She folded it carefully into a small square and tucked it into the inside pocket of her black book. She carried Hedwig to the fire grate to warm up while she wrote her response.
Harry,
I'd have Hedwig bring you your black book, but the Fat Lady already told me (rather meanly) that she's changed the password since you left and won't be letting me in, so I have no means to reach it. I'm sure owl post will be fine for a few days.
I miss you too, though I'm sure you must prefer the Weasleys' warm home to trudging around the snowy grounds with me; I'm rather enjoying being outside, despite the cold. There's something really beautiful and solitary about these empty grounds. Footprints are so fascinating. I'll be happy to have you all back, of course!
Snape has all but left me to my own devices. Please forgive me if this reply is short—I've actually never written anyone a letter before! And it's sweet of you to worry about Draco, but please don't, I can handle him.
Yours,
Sharlen
P.S., Hedwig is staring daggers at me at the idea of me sending her back out in the wind, so I'm going to give her a break. We'll write soon.
Satisfied, Sharlen turned to Hedwig and assured her she didn't have to go back out. "Do you want to stay here by the fire to warm up or do you want to come with me to the Owlery to send this?" Hedwig glanced around the Slytherin common room reproachfully, clearly not much liking it compared to Gryffindor's, and hooted her encouragement. Sharlen walked over to the nearest window and opened it to let her out, transforming into her twin and soaring out after her.
Despite the wind, the two were quick about it; Hedwig flew rather close to her, observing her, and when they arrived she quickly flew to the rafter most highly populated with other owls to snuggle in with. Sharlen returned to her human form and smiled up at her softly. "Well, if it's too drafty out here, just come rap on my window, okay?" Hedwig clicked her beak to show her approval and then closed her eyes to sleep. Before long Sharlen had selected one of the school's eagle owls and sent it off to find Harry at the Burrow, watching it go, shivering as she leaned out the window.
Sharlen received a second letter that day from the black Strix owl belonging to Stacey, who the eccentric girl called Piotr. Sharlen had greeted him happily many times at breakfast since the start of term and tried to always have something to offer him to nibble on when he brought Stacey letters and packages from her parents (most of which had at least three sheets of stickers inside). Piotr made his way onto her lap while she sat up in bed cross-legged, burrowing his head into the crook of her arm as she read the letter and stroked him.
Sharlen!
I better be your first-ever letter. I tried to write this ASAP because Harry told me he'd be writing to you and I wanted the honor of being your first—though of course I hope he's written to you. Either way, hey! I'm thinking of you!
My parents are divided on what they want to do. One wants to go out of town to go skiing because we barely ever get all three of us home at the same time, the other wants to spend time here as a family. This is all probably perfectly boring to you, right? This is what people actually fight about—how they'll spend time together. Life is too short, parents!
I was out in town (you know my dad's a Muggle) and found a few sticker sets you will just love. Write me back ASAP and spare me no details on your first Christmas holiday—it really must be magical (pardon the pun) even though we're not there with you. This really is about togetherness—next year you're coming with me, I don't want to hear a single word against it. Forget Snape. I make the rules.
Stacey
Piotr was more than happy to head back out into the cold to deliver the return letter once she was finished; he insisted on staying in her lap, his head pressing against her stomach for warmth while she wrote an entire scroll of parchment to her about how she actually was enjoying herself. Solitude was a much different concept entirely when she had the freedom to stretch her legs, breathe fresh air, and wander. She told Stacey she was worried about Harry because of a vision she had, but did not go into detail—she merely said she and Dumbledore had talked about it and she couldn't wait to have them all back at the castle with her. She signed it, Missing how very loud you are, Sharlen, tied it closed, and sent Piotr back the way he came.
She passed her time reading whatever alighted her interest in the library, and reading a little ahead in her school work to try and keep up; she had noticed that Hermione's claim to fame was being bookish, so she kept to squirreling away a book or two from the library in her dormitory rather than reading around the trio. In truth, she particularly liked reading, as it was often her only option to pass the time in Snape's home when he was away at Hogwarts. Of course most of the books Snape owned were about the Dark Arts and potions, but here and there in the homes they'd moved to over the years she would find an odd Muggle book of fiction or, better, a memoir; cut off from people all her life, the lives of others fascinated her—which was a large part of her obsession with Merope. When she was younger, maybe five or six years old, she'd asked Snape if he could make her a sibling to play with. She didn't know what the aura color had meant at the time, but she would always remember the shade: the darkest dusty rose, for guilt.
Part of her was glad to have this time set aside to catch up on her schoolwork; everything had become secondary to being with Harry and she already was at a disadvantage in classes from not having practical instruction all these years. Snape always made sure she had the proper textbooks for the curriculums, but she only had herself to practice with.
Despite trying to distract her mind, she was unsuccessful; unable to relax, she felt jumpy and was easily alerted by any sound, waiting for news of the Burrow being attacked. She knew Dumbledore had probably demanded every defense possible be granted on the house and land surrounding and that the vision was not necessarily going to happen at this point in time, but it still nagged her at the back of her mind.
The next time she heard from Harry was on Christmas night; Christmas Eve had been quiet at the school, a few students here and there at their house tables, Sharlen and the two first years alone at Slytherin's. They seemed content to stay away from her and she was glad of it. She remembered Harry saying that there had been so few students his second year that they had abandoned the house tables altogether and everyone remaining, teachers included, sat at one in the center of the hall; she supposed the twenty semiodd students and staff members were just enough to not warrant the change.
The abandoned hall was much calmer than it normally was; Sharlen tried to enjoy the lack of anxiety, the lack of being completely overwhelmed by auras, but instead she felt loneliness pressing in on her from all sides. She'd opted not to eat until an odd hour on Christmas Day, hoping to miss just about everyone and be by herself, as feeling lonely when she actually was alone felt more bearable, more usual, than feeling lonely around other people. She hadn't seen Snape at all.
When the school owl returned with Harry's reply late Christmas night, Sharlen met him at the window and he promptly took off again. She clucked her tongue after him and muttered, "Oh yes, you go, I didn't want to reply anyway…"
The parchment had something inside when she opened it: an amber necklace on a delicate golden chain, carefully wrapped around a sprig from a fir tree to keep it from tangling. She marveled at it for several long moments, loving the smell of the fir, before her eyes found the page:
Sharlen,
Remind me when we get back to Hogwarts to tell you how ridiculous our new Minister of Magic is.
I'm honored to have received your first letter ever written. I know this is a little late on your first Christmas, but Merry Christmas! The Weasleys all say hello, Lupin as well. They also wanted me to tell you that you went above and beyond with their gifts—I don't think Mrs. Weasley has ever had anyone hand-make anything for her, but she was delighted at the scarf you made. The Dream Sachets are really clever magic, I could have done with a truckful of these last year. Let's not let Lavender know you gave Ron a present he actually enjoys; you should see the hideous chain she gave him. I'm hoping you like yours better than he likes his.
I wanted to give you this necklace in person after the holiday, but I couldn't wait. It's got protective magic on it for whenever I'm not there with you. I can't wait to see you wearing it.
And you know I'd go walking around with you wherever you wanted to go, even though it's mad to take long strolls in several feet of snow.
I'll be with you soon.
Harry
Taking a closer look at the amber pendant in her hand, she let out a soft sigh from somewhere deep inside her. It was polished in a trillion cut and set in a baroque gold framing. Sharlen hurried to undo the clasp and fasten the necklace over her head with shaking hands. She couldn't stop staring at it and it was undoubtedly the longest she had gone without thinking of Merope since her meeting with Dumbledore. She reread the letter as soon as she could tear her eyes away from the amber; she breathed a sigh of relief to know that her gifts had gone over well, as she had truly stressed over them.
She had never had anyone to give anything to, so when she found a simple gift idea in one of the library books that she could make with standard potion ingredients, she made around thirty to distribute to Harry, Stacey, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, all Ron's family (including the ones she only knew by name, and Bill's fiance, Fleur), and Lupin. Wrapped in slow-burning sachets steeped in a Sweet Sleep Solution, they contained essential oils and ingredients that you lit as you were falling asleep and they combined to give pleasant dreams to anyone near enough to smell it. She provided little instructions on which spell to use for a slow burn (along with a glass jar, to avoid accidents) and wrote that she thought in a time of war everyone could use decent rest. She had also knitted scarves for Harry, Mrs. Weasley (a thank-you for being so motherly to Harry over the years, and with the mindset that she herself made knitted gifts), Hermione, Stacey, and Luna. She'd hoped it would be satisfactory; she had no money to buy anyone anything, even Harry.
Where had this necklace come from? Had he bought it for her somewhere in Hogsmeade, or since being away from the castle? She found herself twirling it in her fingers absentmindedly as she wrote her response:
My sweet boy,
I'm speechless at your gift. It is truly beautiful and I don't know what I've done to deserve anything so thoughtful. I don't think I'll ever take it off.
Did you really encounter the Minister on your holiday? You are certainly in high demand, I can hardly blame him for wanting to say hello (though it sounds like there was much more to it). I do hope you enjoyed your holiday with everyone, and please tell them I'm so happy they like the sachets. I hope they work well. Anyone dear to you is dear to me.
I've been okay here at the castle, but now that I've received this I'm afraid I'm a little desperate to see you. Please come back to me soon, and preferably in one piece. I know, I'm a worrier—what can you do?
Yours always,
Sharlen
P.S. It would be less mad to stroll in the snow if you'd remember to pack even one pair of socks.
Pleased that her first Christmas gifts had gone over well, Sharlen sent the letter off with Hedwig up in the Owlery and began knitting herself a new black scarf by hand; she'd learned years ago (from a Muggle book) how to knit, long before she knew that sort of magic.
A few days later, before Harry was due to return to the school, another letter came from him. It was much shorter than any of the others.
Ginny nearly kissed me. I wanted to let you know what happened rather than chancing you seeing it in a contact vision at some point.
It was really out of the blue and I've explained to her that I'm quite happy with you. She seems put-out but understands.
It meant nothing. Please don't be upset.
I'll see you tomorrow.
Harry
Letting this sink in, Sharlen twirled the amber pendant in her fingers and pondered it lightly. Ginny really did that? What did nearly kissed entail? After several long minutes of not knowing what she was supposed to feel, she had to admit to herself that she did feel a little sad—not because she was upset with Harry, but because she had hoped this would take a little longer to unfold. She'd been watching in their auras all this time. I'm not ready to give him up yet, she thought sadly. Surely she can wait?
Truthfully she had seen a vision of Harry and Ginny kissing before, and it was at the Burrow, or what she imagined to be the Burrow—only it was clearly summertime, and they were dressed for a formal affair, so she hadn't let herself worry about it yet. This clearly wasn't that time, and Harry said she had "nearly" kissed him. She wondered when it had happened—had he been laboring over whether or not to tell her for a day or two, or had he written to her straight away?
Sharlen had known in the back of her mind all along that Harry would have a life after her; she didn't know how long this war would be, but as long as her father was alive, she wanted to be with Harry and for him, as long as he'd have her. But I'm temporary. If I don't survive, she thought honestly, I'd want him to move on.
She agonized over it for an hour or two, but opted not to reply to the letter.
Still up in her dorm, Sharlen had yet to leave for a day's adventure around the grounds, when she heard someone hurrying up the stairs. Her heart quickly leapt to her throat.
"Sharlen," Snape said, panting very slightly as he stood in the doorway. Startled, Sharlen stood up off her bed in the vacant dorm.
"What is it?" she asked quickly. "Did something happen to Harry? The Burrow? Is everyone okay?" She felt hot dread bubbling up inside of her and her tense muscles, so wound-up all week waiting for this news, were growing ever tighter as she waited.
"They're fine," he dismissed, staring at her hard. "Your warning to Professor Dumbledore saved them from the attack."
"There was an attempt?" she asked quietly, a little horrified.
Snape nodded. "Potter and the others don't know, but Lupin, Moody, and Shacklebolt were able to chase off Bellatrix and Fenrir Greyback before they came near the defenses."
"Well… what is going on?" She couldn't let herself feel relief yet—it was written all over Snape's aura that he was troubled.
"Professor Dumbledore just let the teachers know that there's been an attack on another student's family," he said slowly, carefully. Sharlen's eyes narrowed and she took an involuntary step closer but remained silent. "We are to address our houses when they return from the holidays, but I thought you should know first. Stacey Davis and her parents were killed by Death Eaters on Christmas Eve."
Sharlen's brain went completely blank with shock and a faint ringing began in her ears. Still, she remained silent. "From what we know, it was Rowle and Dolohov. They'd been trying to recruit Geneva Davis to join the Dark Lord for years and he gave the order to kill them all."
Now extremely aware of Stacey's vacant bed beside hers, tightly-tucked and well-made in her absence, Sharlen found herself completely lost for words. She could clearly see Rowle and Dolohov in her head—she had snuck a glimpse at them while they visited Snape once last year, after the mass breakout from Azkaban—and the ringing grew a little louder. Snape pressed on, staring at her. "There will be a memorial for her once the rest of the student body returns tomorrow. I thought you might want to… prepare yourself."
Sharlen slowly turned away from him, staring blankly, and walked to the window seat at the far end of their dormitory. Standing very still, Snape watched as she perched herself on it, her legs folded beneath her, and settled to look out the window away from him. Eventually, she heard him leave.
When her dorm mates returned the following afternoon, they found Sharlen in the same place, now horizontal, still staring out the window. She hadn't slept, nor cried, nor thought very much—all she could do was feel, like crashing waves dragging and pushing, regret and disbelief that the second person to ever show her kindness and acceptance no longer walked the Earth. None of them acknowledged her or spoke to her as they unpacked, and Sharlen wondered how they would react when they found out.
Hours after they had cleared out, Sharlen knew the memorial must have taken place as the sun went down and none of her dorm mates returned. She assumed they would be avoiding her, not wanting to have a tragedy link them to her more than sharing a sleeping space did. Around nine o'clock, she began to sit up, aching horribly from not moving for so long, bringing a hand to her head as it throbbed from dehydration.
She had only ever lost one person she ever cared about, and that was Harry, and he hadn't died. She had been surrounded by death all her life, but she kept waiting for Stacey to burst in and show her a new pack of stickers that danced or whatever new nail polish colors her mom had put in her Christmas stocking. Adjusted to the dark around her, Sharlen turned her eyes to her bedside table where her little black book was. Extremities shaking, she slowly made her way across the dormitory toward it and picked it up gingerly. Harry and the others would have gotten back hours ago. Flipping to the last vacant page, she saw a note from Harry:
Lupin just told us. I'm so sorry. Please find me when you can.
She felt like something was preventing her from swallowing. She took Stacey's letter from its place on the nightstand and read it through several times. Suddenly exhausted, she folded Stacey's letter in the back pocket of the book with Harry's and then placed the book back on her bedside table. Footsteps near the stairs alerted her to Pansy and the others returning and she perked up like a rapt dog, listening carefully. "Well you know, in normal schools, when a roommate dies you typically automatically get all perfect grades—we probably won't be expected to take our final exams," Pansy sneered as the three of them entered together. They stopped dead in their tracks when they saw the look of pure loathing on Sharlen's face.
In one quick, slashing movement, Sharlen ripped her arm through the air, her hand clawlike, and Pansy's lips zippered themselves shut. Her eyes grew huge with fear and a muffled scream that had no way of escaping as she snatched uselessly at her mouth, the other two leaping back a foot or two in horror. Wordlessly Sharlen grabbed her flask and her book and swept past them out of the dormitory, opting to let them sort it out themselves. Surely, she reasoned, they knew a standard anti-sticking charm.
Heart pounding hard in her ears, the blood rush was making her dizzy; realizing she hadn't taken her potion yet that day, she took a long draft of it as she stormed out of Slytherin's common room, everyone milling about, staring. She scribbled a note to Harry and swept off to the Astronomy Tower, wanting solitude but knowing that cutting herself off from him wouldn't make her feel any better. She climbed the stairs for what seemed like an eternity, refusing to slow down, her previously lethargic body groaning in protest, lactic acid bursting in her thighs, but she didn't care. The chill of winter as she ascended the tower drew her nearer.
When she entered the landing, she was not alone. Professor Trelawney turned around suddenly, as though startled, then drew herself up to full height and covered her throat with some difficulty. "The stars told me you'd be on your way," she said, that same false mysticism in her voice as per usual.
"Did they," Sharlen said, not a question but not strong enough to be a statement either. The two had overall made peace with each other in classes, Sharlen eventually realizing she had to be patient with the professor and respect that she was her teacher. She had made the prophecy about Harry and her father, after all. "I'm sorry to disturb you, I'll just go."
"No dear," Trelawney said, reaching a long, skinny hand out toward her. "You are deeply troubled and need the counsel of the stars. I'm finished here." She drew her shawl tighter around her neck and went to walk past Sharlen, but she reached out quickly to grab the professor's arm.
"Wait," she said, desperation in her voice. Trelawney paused patiently. "I-I wanted to know… if there was a way we could channel Stacey. I want to say I'm sorry."
Trelawney looked deeply troubled and began shaking her head in small, tight movements. "No, no dear, I'm afraid that sort of reaching into the Beyond is forbidden at Hogwarts. Divination points us forward. I am very sorry for your loss, dear. Miss Davis was a mildly talented Seer."
Ignoring the backhanded compliment to her friend, Sharlen nodded absently. Trelawney peered more closely at her, leaning in slightly. "Something else on your mind, dear?"
At that moment Sharlen saw Harry peeking out from under the Invisibility Cloak, looking at her questioningly, clearly trying to avoid all contact with Trelawney. Immediately feeling returned to her organs, warmth spreading through her and she began to ignite—she'd forgotten how much she missed him, how much she longed to be wrapped up in him. It had felt like forever without him. "Actually yes, Professor, but I don't know if there's an answer to my problem at all," she said suddenly, more power in her voice.
"What is it my dear?"
"I wanted to know if there's a way to turn off my contact visions for short periods of time," she explained, returning her gaze to Trelawney's bug-like eyes. She nodded to show understanding. "I'm not sure even where to look to find out but it would be… convenient to have a way to turn it off every once in a while."
"I would recommend adapting a guided meditation ritual…" she said thoughtfully. "That will help you to better connect with your mind, body, and spirit, which may allow you to eventually focus past the visions. I am not sure how you could stop them, or why you'd want to!"
"Thank you Professor," Sharlen said, now anxious to be rid of her. "Would you mind leading guided meditation for me?"
"Why of course not, dear!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Monday evenings once term starts?"
Sharlen agreed and Trelawney bade her goodnight, sweeping off down the stairs and, unknowingly, past Harry. Harry watched her go and unearthed himself from the cloak once she was out of sight, turning back to Sharlen. She surprised him by jumping up into his arms, securing herself around his neck and waist, clinging tightly. Steadying himself, Harry carried her over to the edge of the Astronomy Tower and propped her up on the stone battlement, holding her close to him for stability. He pulled back a little but she was averting her face. Between kissing her cheeks lightly, he told her he missed her.
"I missed you too," she said in a small voice.
"I'm so sorry about Stacey," he said heavily, watching her carefully.
She looked up to meet his gaze. "She wrote to me once, but never answered my reply… I thought she must just be busy with her parents. I don't know when this is supposed to feel real."
Harry shrugged his shoulders very lightly, his expression stony. "It's still hard to believe Sirius is gone some days. Other days it's all I can focus on."
"I just feel empty… disoriented…" She looked to her left off the Astronomy Tower. "Snape told me she was dead and it just seems like an impossibility. Like she's going to show up a day late to term like it's some big joke."
Harry pulled her back to him round the shoulders and she tucked herself into him, leeching the warmth of his body. She thought of Piotr and wondered where he was now. They stayed like that for a long time, their cheeks reddening with cold, hair blowing lightly in the chill air.
Harry suddenly pulled back to look at her. "Did you get my last letter?"
Sharlen thought a second and then it dawned on her. "Oh, right, Ginny," she muttered, nodding her head. The previous day felt like a lifetime ago.
"Yes, Sharlen, I'm so sorry," he said sincerely, eyes wide with worry. "I didn't know how you'd react but I didn't want to wait to tell you, I thought it would be better—"
She hushed him softly. "I don't mind. It's okay. I wasn't upset."
"You're not angry at Ginny?" Harry implored disbelievingly. Sharlen shook her head and he gave a sigh of relief. "Good. Ron's whole family is really important to me and it took me by surprise… but she's on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, and she's…" He trailed off.
She smiled at him faintly, able to read his confusion in his aura. He was fond of Ginny, there was no mistaking it. But she knew he was more fond of her, at least for now. "You are thoughtful to consider my feelings," she said quietly, looking up at him. "It was better to hear about it from you than see it in a vision, you're right. But I'm not upset. You even said nothing really happened." His aura hinted at light guilt beneath the surface, but she swallowed her reaction to it. It just didn't seem important with Stacey's death so fresh and surreal to her.
Harry smiled at her fondly and reached up to take the chain glinting around her neck; he gently pulled the amber necklace out from under her robes and followed the chain with his hand as the amber settled on her chest, his knuckles resting on her sternum as he held it tenderly in his fingers. She watched his eyes carefully, but his aura is what kept her attention; his heart had filled to see it on her, deep purple nostalgia rippling through soft peach adoration. His eyes met hers. "It's great to see this on you. Do you like it?"
"I love it," she said meaningfully. She gave him a tired smile. "Thank you for thinking of me. It's really beautiful."
"I wanted you to have it. To keep me with you." Harry craned his head down to kiss her, and she deepened the kiss eagerly, finally letting herself feel how much she'd missed him. When they broke apart, Harry helped her off the stone railing and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, escorting her down the stairs. "Come to Gryffindor Tower with me, I have something else for you."
"You have to tell me about Scrimgeour too," she noted as they disappeared under his Invisibility Cloak. She could already feel the extra energy had returned to the castle, though it was subdued from what it might have been from word of Stacey's death. They made their way through the school, dodging Mrs. Norris hastily at one instance, as Harry relayed the conversation he'd had with the Minister of Magic when he and Percy Weasley had shown up out of the blue on Christmas. When he had finished, they were already in front of the Fat Lady's portrait and Sharlen's head buzzed with the implications of it. The Ministry wanted Harry to be a poster boy? That was the best they had? "I really had hoped he would be an improvement from Fudge," Sharlen said with a sigh as Harry gave the new password. "You'd think the head of the Auror Office would have a little more spine…"
"I think they're getting desperate to seem effective. Harry just told me the whole story, too," Hermione added in as Harry hurried off up to the boy's dorms to retrieve whatever he had for Sharlen. Hermione gave her a small wave of welcome and a small present. "Thank you very much for the sachets, I tried one out on… well, one of the nights we were gone, I was having trouble sleeping. They are really lovely magic."
"I'm so glad to hear they work," Sharlen said with a grin. "You didn't have to get me anything…" she added, embarrassed.
"I wanted to!" Hermione said as she opened it gingerly. Sharlen found a new pair of emerald green knitted gloves inside. "I've been knitting for about two years now for the house-elves here at Hogwarts, and I noticed you could use a new pair."
Sharlen felt like hugging her would have been appropriate, but she thanked her graciously instead, touched that anyone wanted to gift her anything at all. She put them on without delay and tucked her regular pair into the pocket of her cloak.
"I'm sorry about Stacey," Hermione said suddenly, and Sharlen could see sadness close to her inner aura. Sharlen nodded silently. "She was very sweet. It's just horrible."
Harry arrived with two gifts in his hands and offered the smaller one to Hermione, saving Sharlen from having to talk about the painful subject. "Mrs. Weasley gave this to Ron to give to you, Hermione, but… either way, it's toffee and a new shawl, I believe… And she was very interested to hear about you, Sharlen. She wanted me to be sure this got to you," he said with a grin, offering the larger parcel to Sharlen. She stared at it with her lips slightly parted.
"Harry, I…"
"She was really touched by your gifts for everyone," Harry explained. "Even Fleur liked them. And I think she was a little downtrodden to hear that you were stuck at the castle with Snape…"
With fingers slightly trembling, Sharlen reached for the note attached and slowly unfurled it.
Dear Sharlen,
Harry let me know you'd likely be embarrassed to receive this, but I had to express my gratitude over you warning us about the attack. Harry and the others don't know about the attempt; we don't want Harry to feel he's putting others in danger. Best keep it our little secret. My family is everything to me and I can never thank you enough for making sure Dumbledore knew we should be expecting something. I don't like to imagine what may have happened. And then, on top of that, you were thoughtful enough to give our family something very valuable: Peace of mind! You are truly a thoughtful young woman.
The scarf is really lovely—your purling is excellent!—and I can never thank you enough, but I do hope this brings you some holiday cheer. Next year, you must come along to the Burrow. I'll tell Severus myself that I insist.
Happy Christmas, and good luck in the new term.
Molly Weasley
Hermione and Harry watched as tears slowly leaked out of Sharlen's eyes and down her cheeks, where she couldn't brush them away fast enough. She read the letter through a second time, something warm welling up inside her that she had never felt before. Her chest felt full and heavy, as though it would drag her to the floor. She felt Ron watching her from a corner with Lavender Brown and offered him a small smile and wave, assuring Harry and Hermione that she was okay. They returned soft smiles to her and followed her to three vacant chairs to open the gift.
Harry placed it lightly in her lap once she sat down, and Ron made his way over. Hermione gave one last hasty "goodnight" before sweeping off to the girls' dormitories and away from Ron, who stood beside Harry's chair, watching Hermione retreat before turning back to Sharlen. From the package Sharlen unearthed a tin of homemade toffees, a mountain of pumpkin pasties (Harry must have told Mrs. Weasley she had a soft spot for them after first trying them months ago at the Halloween feast), and a knitted black sweater with a large cream-colored "S" on the chest. Sharlen knew it was her own initial, but Stacey sprang quickly to her mind. She held up the sweater before her with hands still trembling; it was much too big for her and Ron gave a sigh beside Harry as if slightly embarrassed.
"I told her you were rather slight," Harry said, amused, gesturing to the over-sized sweater, "but I think she was a little excited."
"Of course, she's given you a Weasley sweater… at least it's not maroon…" Ron mumbled, but he was cut off by shock as Sharlen brought one hand away from the sweater to hide her nose and mouth, eyes closed, holding the gift tight to her chest as she quietly sobbed. He looked dumbfounded.
"It's just wonderful," she cried, stifled by the gloved hand covering her mouth, overwhelmed by the acceptance and love she felt, buried under the loss of her friend. "Your mother is the most wonderful person in the world."
Harry beamed at her and insisted she put the sweater on. She did so without delay, not caring that it fell to mid-thigh. She wore it all night as she slept on Harry's chest on a couch in Gryffindor Common Room, his arms around her and her cloak on top of them for warmth.
