Harry was becoming discouraged trying to get the memory from Slughorn; he had become almost as avoidant with Harry as he was with Sharlen, though still polite and cordial in classes. On top of her troubling conversation with Dumbledore, Sharlen's classes were beginning to stress her out—she had never prepared for exams before and had no idea what to expect, or if she was ready for them. The teachers, McGonagall specifically, reiterated nearly every class that she would not except N.E.W.T. students in seventh year with anything less than an "Exceeds Expectations" and since they had made it that far from their O.W.L.s, she expected them to maintain their status in their final examinations, which were mere months away. She sought Hermione's guidance often about what to expect, but Ron frequently cut in to dilute her extensive recollection of the examinations.

"You need to know everything, for sure, but a lot of it's intuitive," he said, brushing Hermione off. She scowled at him. "Bill and Charlie said the sixth year examinations aren't any worse than the O.W.L.s."

"But I didn't take those!" Sharlen fretted, elbows on the table and head perched on her hands, staring down at her advanced Transfiguration text. "I had a demonstrative analysis with the school board. I've never taken an actual exam in my life."

Hermione patted her arm sympathetically. "I'll help you study, of course."

Sharlen breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Really."

"Oh yeah, perfect," Ron said sarcastically, draping himself lackadaisically over the table in the Great Hall, "Just what Hermione needs: another excuse to spend all hours in the library."

"As if you don't depend on me to cram, too, Ron!" Hermione hissed at him.

Ron brushed her off again, sitting up and reconsidering third helpings. "Fresh air would do you good, Hermione."

"We could study outside," Sharlen tried to compromise, but the two were bickering to themselves.

Harry had yet to make an appearance that morning. Sharlen watched the entrance to the hall distractedly. She'd noticed his scar had been bothering him more frequently since their last meeting with Dumbledore; he frequently rubbed it, brows furrowed, when they were in classes, studying, even out on the Quidditch pitch. She'd first taken note of it when they visited Hagrid the weekend after; sitting down to his infamous rock cakes and giant casks of strong black tea, he seemed so distracted by it that she had to outright ask him if something was wrong. "It's just annoying," he admitted with a small smile. "I'm fine, it just hurts from time to time."

"Have you two noticed Harry's scar bothering him lately?" she asked Ron and Hermione, who immediately stopped their squabble.

"Why?" Ron asked quickly, seriously.

Sharlen blanched. "Why? Well, it just seems to be giving him more trouble than usual… don't you think? No?" Their eyes met widely, a silent conversation occurring between them. Sharlen's eyes raked over their auras, which were a deep, muddy blue. Fear of the future. And brimming at the outskirts, an unmistakable dirty gray overlay—guardedness. "What's going on?"

"Well, nothing that we know of…" Hermione said, slowly taking her eyes from Ron's and back to Sharlen. "Harry hasn't mentioned anything to either of us. It's just, well, his scar hurts when You-Know-Who is nearby or feeling something very strongly."

"Well he can't be nearby," Sharlen said simply. Ron and Hermione were clearly waiting for more. "He's doing his best to keep a low profile, right? He's left a trail of where he's been, we'd know if he was anywhere near Hogwarts."

The two didn't seem convinced. "This is why Harry was supposed to learn Occlumency from Snape last year. To dull his connection to You-Know-Who."

"I see… Well, if you two haven't noticed anything…" she muttered. Harry raced into the hall at that point and quickly joined them, settling next to Sharlen and giving her a quick kiss. All eyes on him, the three watched as he reached to ladle scrambled eggs onto his plate while the other reached, almost instinctively, to rub his scar.

"Something wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked politely, trying to seem nonchalant. Her aura hadn't lessened its darkness.

"Oh fine, yeah," Harry said distractedly, beginning to eat. He didn't see the three of them exchange a look. Sharlen wrapped an arm around his waist.

"It just seems like your scar's been bothering you lately. Has it?" Sharlen asked easily.

Harry thought for a second while he finished chewing, looking around at the three of them. He looked tired. "Now that you mention it, I guess it has been prickling more often… but I'm not having nightmares or visions or anything like that so you can both calm down," Harry finished darkly, eyes on Ron and Hermione. The two nodded and looked away casually, their auras relaxing only slightly into calmer states. Sharlen looked back to Harry expectantly. He smiled at her. "Don't look at me like that! I can tell you're worried. I really am fine."

But she kept her eyes on his scar, and the aura immediately around it showed a muddy gray of residual fear. Typically, a gray cluster in a specific part of the body alluded to potential illness. She opted not to press it and allowed him to finish his hurried breakfast with lighter conversation before they had to leave for classes.

Care of Magical Creatures had become a lot less fun for Sharlen without Stacey, who was always so enraptured with any creature Hagrid brought forth that her enthusiasm alone carried the entire class. Sharlen kept largely to herself or beside Hagrid; Slytherins weren't all that nice to him, but the older years had weeded out most of the primary offenders. Choosing classes meant that most students who didn't like his teaching style, or the creatures he brought in, had abandoned the course for other pursuits. That day they were headed into the Forbidden Forest a few hundred yards to tend to the Thestrals.

As it had been the previous year, very few students could see the Thestrals and found them creepy, but the beasts required regular feeding and interaction so they had grown used to tending them. It took the beasts a while to warm up to Sharlen when Hagrid first brought the class into the forest back in October; just as they had when she arrived at Hogwarts, they seemed troubled by her presence and Hagrid had to spend several minutes calming them. For safety, Sharlen had been made to stand and watch the other students feed them raw meat and gently oil their hides to protect them from the colder temperatures. Their pearly white eyes hadn't left her. Now, several sessions later, Sharlen walked into the clearing beside Hagrid ahead of the rest of the class. This was the first time they were going to see them since Stacey's death—the snow had been too high to bring students into the forest and then it was mating season for the Thestrals.

In truth, she had grown to love interacting with the creatures in the class; she had very little tactile interaction in her life, and when visions accompanied the sense whenever she was able to feel another person, touching another sentient being lost whatever influence it was supposed to have on her experience. The creatures didn't elicit visions when she touched them, and she had realized she might be obsessed with running her fingers over their soft skin, the terrain of their bones. She wondered if that was how Harry felt about touching her.

She and a few other Slytherin boys helped Hagrid lay out the meat to attract them and they waited. When the first two appeared, Sharlen was glad to see the tallest had come quickly. According to Hagrid, he was more than 25 hands high, over eight feet and nearly as tall as Hagrid himself. He was the one Sharlen had bonded with the most, and she walked steadily out to meet him, hand outstretched.

Her classmates went to the female as she began to eat. Sharlen's hand waited patiently a few feet from the tall male who walked forward, tossing his head twice before leaning his skeletal snout into her palm. Even with her hand fully extended above her head, he still had to crane his neck to greet her. Sharlen smiled and brought her other hand to stroke his haunches. The unblinking white eyes seemed to stare through her.

As more Thestrals appeared, the class broke up to hand-feed and oil them. The tall male gathered its legs beneath him on the ground so the students could reach him and allowed them to work the oil into his skin. Sharlen sat quietly while a small group worked around her, gossiping.

"...We're still waiting to hear why you can see them," Zabini Blaise said a little too loudly, causing Sharlen to look up from the beast's giant ribcage.

"Excuse me?" she asked dully.

"You're one of the only people here who can see them," he reiterated darkly at her. The other students focused intently on their hands moving over the invisible Thestral, but silence fell quickly. A smirk grew on his face. "What's your secret?"

"Not a secret," she muttered "It's just doesn't concern you, either."

"You enjoy being a mystery, don't you," Zabini said darkly, more a statement than a question. The other students glanced between the two of them anxiously. "Think hiding behind Draco absolves you?"

"Absolves me from what?" Sharlen asked abrasively, a steadying hand on the Thestral between them.

"Being with Potter," he said quietly.

Sharlen steeled herself, one hand instinctively reaching to feel her amber pendant beneath her robes. "What does that have to do with who I've seen die?"

"With as dark as your roots run—don't deny it—dating the enemy isn't going to end well for you." Zabini stood, towering above her. "Draco won't be able to defend you much longer."

Sharlen stood as well, still only chest-high on him, leaning forward slightly over the Thestral with her eyes narrowed dangerously. The other students around them watched fearfully. "Are you threatening me?"

"It hardly seems necessary," Zabini said with a smug little shrug. "It's clear where your loyalties lie. But luckily for you, you seem comfortable with people around you dying."

The Thestral, uncomfortable with the two of them standing over him, rose to his feet quickly, tossing his head and trotting a few yards away to join two others the students were tending. Hagrid looked up over to their group, several students on the ground from the shock of the Thestral moving suddenly, and asked, "Wha' happen'd?"

"Nothing, professor," Sharlen muttered with a scowl, following the Thestrals away from Zabini. Recalling her tarot reading, she called back to him, "The mystery, apparently, is where my loyalties lie."

When class let out, she immediately went to go find Harry. After their encounter with Romilda Vane he had let her know that what others said about her didn't bother him, but Zabini's words were ringing in her ears. Flying through the castle halls, she landed lightly on his shoulder as an owl as he was entering Slughorn's Potions classroom with Ron. She gave the collar of his robes a tug with her beak and took off again, sweeping around the corridor bend. Harry followed her with a shrug to Ron, seeing she had transformed back into her body as he rounded the corner after her; the halls were emptying rapidly as students entered their classrooms. Sharlen opened the door to an empty room now used as storage and Harry followed.

Closing the door behind him, Harry asked hurriedly, "What's wrong? What happened? Is it Malfoy?"

Sharlen frowned at him, her temper short. "It's not. Does that disappoint you?"

Harry took a beat and then sighed, bringing a hand to his head briefly, subconsciously. He took several steps toward her and put his hands on her arms. "Of course not. I just thought it must be important if we're sneaking around out of classes. Is everything okay?"

Sharlen looked up into those clear, green eyes, expression firm and determined. "Zabini Blaise threatened you."

Harry couldn't help but give a harsh bark of a laugh. "Well yes, that's quite new and different for him."

"Apparently Malfoy has been defending me against the other Slytherins," she continued slowly, purposefully. "Because I'm dating the 'enemy.'"

Harry's amused expression melted into a frown. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, inclining his head toward her slightly. "Is that what's upset you? How the other Slytherins feel about us?"

"I love that when I ask for two sugars in my tea, you know to give me three," she said quietly, expression smouldering. Willing her mind to mellow, she leaned up and her lips met his neck. Harry's grip on her arms tightened. I wish I was your favorite girl. I wish I was the reason you're in the world.

The vision was faint but loud; she could still see Harry through it. She moved her face to the other side of his, lips moving against his jaw. "I love that you are so determined, so steadfast. I love that you help those who need it."

Harry let out a shaky sigh as Sharlen pulled back slightly, running her hands down his chest. She shook the ghost of the vision trying to break through away from her mind's eye. "Harry, I love you. I hate when we're not together. I need you to know that."

He took her face in his hands and watched as her pupils shrank and promptly grew back to their normal size. "I know. I do."

He kissed her hard, holding her close to his body, and they stayed hidden there until the next bell for classes rang.

Later in his room, they picked up where they left off. Practicing her meditative techniques, focusing wholly on Harry—the familiar weight of him on top of her in bed, his sure lips against her skin, how bold he became when they were alone—Sharlen focused on crafting memories rather than drowning in them.

For the next few days, any spare moment they had outside of class and Quidditch, they spent in Harry's bed. His roommates, all busy with their own studying and extracurricular obligations, made themselves scarce, leaving them several stolen hours where they seemed powerless to focus on anything else. Having experienced touch so little in her life, let alone prolonged touch, she became obsessed with this practice of opening her mind past the visions-of focusing on the touch itself instead of what it elicited. Focusing on how best to please each other.

But the end of the year pressures were catching up to them, despite how they tried to pretend they had all the time in the world to lay in bed, naked. The rest of the week, Sharlen barely saw Harry; opting to study with Hermione rather than haunt Gryffindor Quidditch practices, their alone time seemed to be dwindling as the end of the year approached.

Spreading out texts and parchment in the Gryffindor Common Room with Hermione, Harry and Ron came in windswept and exhausted from a practice with Ginny and Dean close behind. Trying to focus on her layered star chart, Sharlen tried not to let the sound of Ginny and Harry's laughter slice through her so sharply. She glanced up as he and Ron came to join her and Hermione and gave him a smile and quick kiss. "Ready to study?" she teased.

Harry groaned, but not as loudly as Ron did. "Isn't this what the weekend is for?" Ron grumbled, animatedly collapsing into a chair and flopping his chest and arms across the essay Hermione was working on.

"Well Ronald, if you want me to look over your Deadly Draughts essay before you hand it in to Slughorn you'll have to do it now because I refuse to read it Sunday night," Hermione said huffily with her arms crossed. Grumbling again, Ron stood and followed Harry upstairs to change out of their uniforms and bring down their books. The girls smirked at each other across the table before resuming their work.

Sharlen had grown accustom to pouring over her work via the dying Gryffindor Tower firelight—thanks to Harry escorting her back to her dorm under the Invisibility Cloak, they'd become bold ignoring curfew. The four of them sat quietly working, Harry's hand holding Sharlen's gloved one across the table, as one by one the other students retreated to bed around them. Every once in a while, Sharlen noted Harry touching his scar absentmindedly, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Which damn planet is in retrograde right now?" he asked, holding up his own star chart for Professor Sinistra to see its proportions more clearly.

"Venus, until the 30th," Sharlen answered without looking up.

A loud crack made them all jump out of their skins and look around wildly to find Dobby and Kreacher standing before the fire.

"You have news!" Harry exclaimed, excitedly jumping up. Sharlen dove into her school bag for the hat and socks she'd knitted for Dobby. She'd taken to carrying them around, not knowing when she would need them.

"Dobby has much to report to Harry Potter!" the little elf squeaked enthusiastically. Kreacher stood moodily behind him, allowing Dobby to push in front.

"Excellent. And you, Kreacher?" Harry asked, a little coldly.

Kreacher gave a curt, reluctant nod. "Yes master, we is doing what you asked us."

"And?" he asked excitedly.

"The Malfoy boy is up to no good, no good at all!" Dobby squeaked, covering his mouth as an afterthought. "He is going to the Unknowable Room, always with two different students!"

"I KNEW IT!" Harry roared much too loudly.

"Harry, you'll wake up the whole tower!" Hermione whispered harshly, looking over her shoulder to the staircase fretfully.

"What is he up to?" Harry asked Kreacher hurriedly, now on his knees before the elves.

Kreacher shook his head. "Kreacher is not knowing, sir."

Dobby shook his head regretfully, his batty ears flapping. "We could not enter the room once he was inside, Harry Potter."

Harry deflated a little bit. "Oh. Well, of course he'd need a place where he couldn't be followed…"

Sharlen waited a few seconds for Harry to wrack his brains on a loophole of how to get into the room with Malfoy before stepping forward to Dobby. His eyes moved to hers and he took a cautious step back. She offered him a smile and held out the hat and socks. "As promised."

"Thank you miss!" Dobby gasped, taking the garments with trembling fingers. "They are beautiful! Dobby is trying to learn to knit too, miss."

"Is that so?" she asked politely, wondering if this peace offering was enough to unspokenly have the elf keep her origin from Harry. If she'd made it this far into their relationship without telling him, she was sure a house elf spilling the beans would be detrimental at the very least.

Harry was on his feet, pacing. "Whatever he's up to in that room, he clearly isn't doing it alone. But why the random students?"

"Could be experimenting on them," Ron said with a wide yawn.

"How could he be doing experiments on a myriad of different students without anyone telling a teacher?" Hermione asked reproachfully, still reluctant to accept that Malfoy was really up to anything that should concern them.

"Memory Charm?" Ron answered. Hermione considered it quietly.

"I have to get inside…" Harry muttered.

"Maybe you should bring it up to Dumbledore again, Harry," Sharlen urged, one hand on his arm. "If he's bringing other students into the Room of Requirement, that's a red flag for sure."

Harry waved her off. "He hasn't been interested when I've brought it up before, and even still he just wants me to focus on this memory."

"And you ought to!" Hermione said, arms crossed. "That's what Dumbledore wants you to focus on, not playing detective over Malfoy! Surely Dumbledore has a better handle on what goes on in this castle than we do."

"I'm not so sure," Ron and Sharlen chorused together from either side of the table spattered with their books.

"You've done very well," Harry said to the elves, giving Dobby a smile and Kreacher a curt nod. The elves left to return to the kitchens and the four of them stood apart, thinking.

"The next time he disappears from the map, I'm going to try and get in," Harry announced. The three were silent.

"But the memory…" Sharlen muttered carefully.

Harry deflated. "Yes. There's that, too."

The next evening after dinner, Sharlen was making her way out of the Great Hall to go to the library. One of her second-hand textbooks had a whole chapter smeared that she needed for Charms, and Hermione had let her know she could find a clean copy, promising to meet her there that night. The Gryffindor trio had already departed to the Common Room half an hour prior—she had lingered at the Slytherin table, trying to practice her meditation principles she'd gleaned from her lessons with Trelawney while the other students tittered around her.

As she stood from the table, satisfied with her progress controlling how the energy around her was perceived, Snape was suddenly at her elbow. "We need to speak," he murmured quietly.

"What about, Professor?" she asked him formally. Expression hardening, he pulled her toward the castle entrance. "What's gotten into you?"

"Your father is on the move," he said under his breath, lips barely moving.

Sharlen dug in her heels to halt him. "Where are you taking me?"

"To my office. We can't speak about this here."

"I don't think so," she said, crossing her arms. "How do I know you won't be channeling him to speak to me when we get there?"

"You don't," he answered simply, taking hold of her again.

Resisting, Sharlen dragged him behind the nearest suit of armor as other students continued to filter out of the hall around them, heading for their dormitories. "I've told you, I'm not speaking to him within the castle again. It's too risky. Anything he has to relay to me can be delivered by you."

"This is not up for debate," he growled, hovering over her dangerously. "It's time you remembered your place."

"I'm not sure that was ever dictated to me," Sharlen hissed sarcastically, eyes narrowing. Snape remarked on how similar her scowl was to Voldemort's, the preciseness of her pale eyes. It disarmed him momentarily. "Am I Hogwarts' Death-Eater-In-Residence? Your Junior Death Eater Apprentice? Am I slacking in cursing mudbloods in the corridors? Should I be spending my downtime writing anonymous threats and Howlers to those unfaithful? Go get a new basilisk for the Chamber of Secrets? Feel free to enlighten me, because as far as I thought, I was here to study magic amongst my peers and nothing more. If you have alternative information from Lord Voldemort himself-"

Snape grabbed the back of her head suddenly, his other hand firmly over her mouth to silence her as none other than Harry Potter walked by, pausing briefly beside their suit of armor. Off-guard, Sharlen saw a vision of a much younger Snape in the Great Hall, sitting alone at Slytherin table. A Gryffindor girl with deep red hair sat down beside him, her eyes as green as Harry's, and punched him playfully in the arm. The younger Snape fought to keep scowling.

Convinced he had imagined hearing voices, Harry continued his jaunty stroll out the castle doors onto the grounds. Snape released her, Sharlen's eyes still on Harry. "Where is he…?"

"You foolish girl," Snape scolded her, once again dragging her in the direction of his office. "Insolent. You deserve to get caught."

Under her amazement of what Harry had almost certainly overheard, she allowed Snape to steer her to the dungeons without another word. Snape had been friendly with Harry's mother? Once safely behind his closed door, Snape strode to the front and said, "As it happens, your father has left me instructions to relay to you." Sharlen followed to his desk and stood waiting as Snape unfurled a scroll on his desk. "This is typically intended for seventh year students, but your father would like you to undergo a separate Ministry course in Hogsmeade each weekend until the end of term."

Taken aback, Sharlen peered down at the document. It already bore Snape's minimalist signature as her guardian. "To what end?"

"It's opportune to his cause that you, unknown to the magical world as his kin, become immersed in the culture of the Ministry," Snape said quickly. "He feels they may have vulnerabilities we can penetrate that you can become accustom with."

"So, in other words, he wants me to provide intelligence on how students are trained and what they're trained with," she said slowly.

"Some of the Ministry's best Aurors make up the training team. Your task is to observe the tactics they're utilizing in training new blood for weak spots."

"Surely he has a more reliable channel for this kind of information," Sharlen protested. Snape grabbed her wrist and forced a quill into her hand.

"That doesn't concern you."

Sharlen hesitated before signing her own signature to the parchment. Snape rolled it up rapidly and stored it in the top drawer of his desk. "Dumbledore has already approved you taking the class. Lupin will be overseeing as well as myself, so try not to make yourself too obvious, if you find yourself capable. You start Saturday morning. I will fetch you from your dormitory."

Taking that as a dismissal, Sharlen turned to leave, brow furrowed with this new information. Before she left, Snape called after her, "You would do well to keep your mouth shut about such sensitive matters in this castle."

Sharlen took her time getting to the Great Hall before classes the next day, taking extra care in packing her bag, planning to spend her free period with Harry by the lake. She was enjoying spending more and more time outside now that the weather was warmer, though she did find herself missing how solitary their walks were when surrounded by the starkness of the snow.

Making her way to the Gryffindor table, she saw the trio huddled closely together at the far end of the table near the staff, heads practically touching as Harry retold something to them animatedly. She noted that Ron looked a little paler than usual. As she walked up, the three of them silenced immediately. Their auras were heavy with a daunting discovery.

"Where did you go last night, Harry?" Sharlen asked, stopping before him. She kept her bag on her shoulder, as none of them made to move and give her space on their bench. "I saw you leaving the castle after dinner…" She wanted to mention that he hadn't responded to her note in their black books either, but abstained—she didn't want to seem controlling or demanding.

"I got the memory, from Slughorn," he answered slowly, testing his words. Hermione and Ron were watching him. She realized, glancing to her left, that Dumbledore was watching from the staff table as well.

Sharlen held her breath a few seconds too long. "That's great," she said, trying to sound sincere. "Dumbledore must be pleased. How'd you do it?"

"I used the Felix Felicis I won from him at the beginning of the year," he answered. "Forgot I had it, but it worked."

"Brilliant," she said easily. "What was the memory?"

"I'm sorry, I can't tell you."

Sharlen looked between the three of them, trying to decipher one aura from another with them so close. She fought the creeping fear that they were suspicious of her from this new information. "I understand," she said lightly, hoping she came off more lighthearted about the exclusion than she felt. She knew Dumbledore had told him from the beginning to only share this information with Ron and Hermione.

"I'm sorry," Harry said again, standing. His hands found her hips. "I would tell you if I could."

"I understand," she reiterated, accepting his kiss before he sat back down. Piotr found her shoulder heavily, nipping her ear affectionately. Sharlen pet his feathers softly and went to retreat to the Slytherin table but was intercepted by Dumbledore as he descended from the staff table.

"You were right," he said softly, a small, burdened smile on his wizened face.

"I know," Sharlen replied quietly, watching him carefully. "What's next?"

"That is up to you. We'll talk soon," he said with a wink, continuing out of the Great Hall. Shaking herself, Sharlen took another few tentative steps toward Slytherin table. He wants me to tell Harry, she thought fretfully, heart starting to pound. I'm not ready for this.

Another body blocked her path and she looked up to see Dean Thomas standing solemnly before her. Startled, she took a quick step back, causing Piotr to rustle his wings and give a sharp hoot. Her heavy, active heart felt thunderous in her ribcage. "Dean, hello," she said quickly, trying to avoid bumping into him.

"Hey Sharlen," he muttered, turning up one corner of his mouth weakly. "How are you doing?"

"I'm…" she started, pausing to see his aura full of dark, cloudy blues and greens. She tugged on her amber necklace nervously. "What's the matter, Dean?"

"I just thought you should know that Ginny and I broke up," he said, a little solemnly. Sharlen's stomach did a somersault.

"I'm sorry to hear that, really," she said, breathless from this rapid turn of events since she entered the hall a minute or so before. "I know you care for her very much."

"Yeah, she just…" he said with a sigh, reaching one arm up to rest on the back of his neck. He looked over at Harry, Ron, and Hermione still talking quietly to themselves, though Harry's eyes were on him and Sharlen. "She's just obsessed with you."

"She's what?" Sharlen said, off her guard.

"She just can't let go of you coming out of nowhere like you did, not knowing 'where you're from' and all that," he said quietly. "It's like all she talks about is you and Harry. It's disturbing."

"I have to agree," Sharlen said sadly, looking at the ground.

"I just… thought you should know," he said, awkwardly placing a hand on her shoulder.

Sharlen looked up at him, eyes full of sympathy. "It will be okay, Dean. You deserve better than that."

Dean gave a small shrug and an unconvinced nod. After a few seconds he walked past her to the Gryffindor table to sit with Seamus, who patted his back once. Feeling lightheaded, Sharlen walked herself out of the Great Hall and didn't stop until she found herself in front of the Black Lake, opting to miss her first class in lieu of further agonizing over what to tell Harry, and when. Piotr followed her in the air, expecting her to take to the sky with him. She settled on the grass and stared at the glassy surface of the water.

Knowing she would start getting in trouble for missing classes like this, Sharlen stirred briefly from deep in her thoughts when she heard the distant class bell ring. She absentmindedly flipped open her little black book and found nothing of consequence—if Harry had seen her leave the Great Hall, he hadn't tried to contact her about it.

"Are you lost?" came Luna's voice, ringing across the grass, making her jump out of her skin. Sharlen looked back at her over her shoulder, wide-eyed, breath caught in her throat. She realized that Piotr must have gone back to the Owlery.

"You frightened me!" she exclaimed, running a hand through her hair with a big sigh. "No, of course I'm not lost, the greenhouses are just over there."

"That's not really what I meant," she said with a little smile, sitting down beside Sharlen. She eyed the girl's white aura, so slightly bruised with lavender that it was hardly discernible, curiously. "I meant you look a little lost all by yourself here."

"Do you have a free period?" Sharlen asked suddenly.

Luna nodded. "I usually go back to sleep after tea, but I saw you wander out here by yourself and thought you could use a friend."

Sharlen suppressed a shudder and mustered up a smile; the wistful vacancy in Luna's voice and gaze had always unhinged her, but she was a caring person and she had a particular proficiency with animals from what Sharlen had been told. "That is kind of you. I'm not sure if I can talk about what's on my mind, though."

"It's okay if you can't, but if you do want me to listen, I can do that," Luna said softly, turning her gaze to the lake as well. "Does it look very different from below?"

Sharlen looked back out over the lake too, how black it appeared, how deep and impossible. "It does. It makes the Slytherin common room very green and bright during the day, because the water is reflective. At night, though, it's the darkest blackness I've ever experienced. I'm glad our dorm is above the surface."

"It must be very difficult to date Harry Potter," Luna breathed, wind picking up her white-blonde hair around her face.

Sharlen let out a laugh, taken aback. "How do you mean?"

"Fancying him," Luna answered, glancing over it. "It seems very difficult."

"One of the many who do…" Sharlen grumbled, her mind back on Ginny. "But why do you think it must be difficult, Luna?"

"Because he's the Chosen One," Luna answered simply. Her blue-grey eyes met Sharlen's and she shuddered again at that strange white aura. "It seems hard to love someone who's marked for death the way he is."

Sharlen's insides went cold and she quickly stretched toward Luna, leaning on her hands, and hissed, "What makes you so sure he's the one marked for death? What have you seen?"

"I haven't had a vision, if that's what you're asking," the girl breathed slowly. "But it's in the prophecy, isn't it? 'Neither' can live while the other survives."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean he is certainly the one who will die," Sharlen protested. "It means it could be either of them, and we have to do everything we can to make sure Harry is the one who succeeds."

"I suppose, if you ignore the difference between living and surviving," said Luna, leaning back on her hands to look up at the cloudy sky dreamily. "I don't really think that's how prophecies work, however."

Sharlen was so unhinged by this conversation with Luna that she felt herself sweating despite the cool, pleasant breeze. She moved closer to the girl, partially leaning over her. "Luna, please listen to me. I will do everything in my power to make sure Harry wins this war and destroys Voldemort. I will give everything I have. I'm always on the lookout in my visions for hints of what's to come regarding his fate, and I know you're clairvoyant. I need to know, right now, if you know something I need to know or if you're just being morbidly conversational, because I don't think you're ever just being conversational."

Luna watched Sharlen's serious face unblinkingly, expressionless, until she finished. Then she showed her teeth. "I'm sorry I made you worry," she said with a little laugh like a tinkling shop bell, "I really don't know anything about Harry's fate either. I guess I wanted to know if you did."

Sharlen blanched. "You really frightened me, Luna!"

"That's twice now," Luna said with a smile. "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

"Well, anyway…" Sharlen said, trying to collect herself as she stood and gathered her bag and book. Luna remained sitting. "I have to get to my next class, but why would you want to know something like that anyway?" She damned herself for continuing the conversation, but her curiosity couldn't be stopped.

Luna looked back out at the lake, her eyes sad. The lavender in her aura deepened one hint of a shade. "Today is the day my mum died nine years ago," she told the lake. Sharlen stayed rooted to the spot. "When I think about it I do still get sad sometimes, but I always can feel her somewhere with me and know she would want me to keep looking forward."

"I'm very sorry about your mother, Luna," Sharlen said quietly.

Luna nodded. "Looking forward… made me think of Harry and what's before him. Then I thought how hard that must be for you, knowing his destiny, knowing who he has to face. Because of your abilities, I've been wondering if maybe you know what's going to happen and that's why you've been so happy with Harry this year… and then I thought maybe something changed."

"Why would you think something changed?" Sharlen asked hesitantly.

"I've always felt you two were linked somehow, but you seem farther apart now," she answered. Luna turned back to greet Sharlen's scared eyes with her own. "Are you lost?"