Working on her potion in the Room of Requirement, Sharlen was deep in thought, trying to keep count of how many times she was stirring the brew. As her mind wandered she would curse herself and stay the course, knowing she would ruin it if she stirred it one time too many or missed a counter-clockwise turn.
I wish Hermione had come… she thought, but the trio were off busying themselves talking in hushed tones about Horcruxes. Sharlen was getting sick of pretending not to know about them—and worse still, she was getting sick of Dumbledore's waiting game. What was the old man doing while he left Harry, Ron, and Hermione to speculate wildly, concerned with an abstract of the dangerous road ahead of them, Quidditch of all things, and end-of-year exams? Time was passing and she knew her father must be getting stronger, setting more long-term plans in motion. If she was honest with herself, she knew he was waiting for her to make a decision and tell Harry the truth.
After she was sure she'd stirred the potion 286 times clockwise and 56 times counter-clockwise in order, she stood, gathered her belongings, and pushed the cauldron back under the steady stream of sunlight the room provided. Her classes were over for the day and it was finally the weekend; she reached up to wipe her brow as she made her way to the exit and out into the hallway. Pausing a moment, she changed course toward Dumbledore's office.
Appearing in front of the gargoyle, it leapt aside for her without waiting for a password. Confused, she hesitated to mount the stair to the top. By the time she reached Dumbledore's door, he was there to open it for her. "I was hoping you'd soon be by to see me," he said with a smile.
"I didn't think I could wait any longer for you to summon me," she admitted, stepping inside, "so I had to come myself."
"I've been away from the castle for much of the time since we last saw each other," Dumbledore began, walking back to his desk. He considered a map on the wall that was rotating slowly and consistently. "There's only so much one can learn within the walls of this castle."
"Have you had any luck? Finding them?" Sharlen asked.
Dumbledore nodded. "I have some clues I'll be sharing with Harry. I may have found one, maybe two. When I'm sure, I'll be asking Harry to come with me to destroy it."
Sharlen twisted her hands in her lap nervously. "Should you risk him? Shouldn't you bring someone more disposable?"
"You mean yourself?" Dumbledore asked with a smile. Sharlen glanced at the ground and nodded. "Miss Down, I fear you haven't grasped what we've been discussing this year. You are very valuable as well, and Harry is not only destined, but capable."
"I know he's capable, of course, I just… I want to spare him," she said sadly. "As much as possible. If he doesn't need to be at risk yet, why make him? Why not have me go with you?"
"I can't risk your position," he said simply, "the same way I wouldn't risk Severus's. And Harry is the only hope we have left, there can be no denying, but I cannot send him out after these Horcruxes blind. He must go with me. He must know the dangers of the task he faces."
Sharlen nodded and looked at the professor for several seconds, brows slightly furrowed. "His scar's been hurting lately. He's playing it off, but Ron and Hermione were worried about it."
Dumbledore leaned forward. "When did you notice this?"
"Before he got the memory from Slughorn, before you last called me here," she told him. "We met in front of your door briefly. His aura around his scar is always gray now."
Dumbledore glanced sidelong at the destroyed ring Horcrux beside him and said nothing.
Sharlen looked back at the ground. "I've been thinking about what you said, about me coming clean to Harry."
Dumbledore waited patiently. "And?"
"I think… I think it might be best if we tell him together," she said hesitantly. Dumbledore considered her carefully.
"Interesting… and why is that?"
"I'm afraid if I tell him by myself he will just feel betrayed and unsure and angry—but if you tell him, he will likely still be angry I didn't tell him myself," she reasoned in a rush. "But if we tell him together, I think he will be more likely to accept that I don't mean him any harm and am here to help him. He trusts you."
"I can't do that," he said with an apologetic smile.
Sharlen's hands found her hips. "You know, you're truly making this very difficult for me."
"You're neglecting to consider the possibility that he may feel betrayal that we have been working together behind his back all this time. No, it must come from you," he said clearly. "Whatever happens, happens."
"But won't he feel that betrayal when he finds out you and the other teachers all knew from the beginning anyway?" Dumbledore gave a maddening, pleasant shrug. Sharlen stood and paced for a minute, thinking hard. "What if I told him it was a secret you'd had me keep and that he couldn't even tell Ron and Hermione? Would that seem more trustworthy or less trustworthy?"
"I think the truth is what will be most important, as it always is, though I do find you wanting me to be a scapegoat amusing," he said with a chuckle. "When the truth comes out, I will tell Harry honestly my part in the secret keeping. And rest assured, whatever you've told him, he's told Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger," Dumbledore finished with absolute certainty.
Sharlen blanched. "How is that okay?"
Dumbledore chuckled. "Oh, young love and all its intricate betrayals. I actually want it that way," he admitted, amused. "Those three need each other to finish this."
"I know, I know," she grumbled, defeated.
"I do hope you're not trying to find a way around telling him who you are, Miss Down," Dumbledore said softly, nothing but amused pity on his face. It made her sad rather than angry. "There is no scenario where your father keeps you out of the spotlight until the end of this. If you want to help Harry, he must be able to use you as an asset—willingly or unwillingly."
Sharlen deflated and went to leave the office, throwing back over her shoulder, "You've been entirely no help, did you know that?"
"For that, I do apologize. I fret to find myself considerably useless more often than not."
As she descended down the flights of stairs from the headmaster's office, Sharlen brought out her black book and turned to the last page. She walked into the library and found a secluded area near the back to set down her bag. She brought out a quill and ink, writing to Harry to meet her there when he had some time. Closing the book, she stood to peruse the stacks for an advanced Transfiguration text McGonagall had suggested she read.
Harry found her within the hour, sneaking up behind her and planting his chin on her shoulder. She straightened up a little, grinning. "Not hungry tonight?" he asked quietly, referring to her skipping dinner.
"Not for food," she said sarcastically, turning her face to kiss his cheek.
Harry grinned and slid into the chair beside her, dragging it closer to hers. He leaned his left side onto the table, propping up his head on his fist, leaning towards her. "What've you got here?" he asked, glancing at the large text she had opened.
Sharlen picked up a few pages and let them fall with a sigh. "Distractions. Tomorrow's the Auror training."
"That's right," Harry said, straightening up slightly. "I almost forgot about that. Are you nervous?"
"A little," she admitted, watching him closely. "It came up so suddenly, I'm just not sure what to expect. I still can't help but feel behind everybody else. Whenever I take a second to stop and look around, all of this still feels so surreal." She paused for a second. "Is it strange to say I hope they like me?"
Harry smiled, sitting up to fold her into a hug. "You're doing great. Just be yourself and focus." They stayed like that for several long seconds, Harry pulling her in tighter and breathing in the scent of her. "I missed this."
Sharlen pulled back slightly to meet his eyes. "I did too. I wanted to give the three of you some space. It seemed like you needed it, after you got the secret from Slughorn."
Harry's aura darkened steadily at the mention of Slughorn's secret. She could see he felt heavy dread and purpose regarding the Horcruxes.
He reached around to pull her off her chair and onto his lap, her legs around his waist and dangling off the sides of his chair. She glanced around over his shoulder, unable to fight a grin though the action had startled her, making sure they were alone. He slid one hand along her outer thigh under her skirt, the other holding her neck. Sharlen focused on the pressure of his grip on her thigh and the growing ache between her legs to fight off the contact visions. "I don't want space," he told her quietly.
She moved her hands up from his shoulders to wrap around his neck, pulling her body as closely against him as she could. Her eyes were half-lidded as she breathed, "Everyone will be heading to dinner soon…"
Without a word, Harry picked her up and stood to pull her from the library to take advantage of his abandoned Gryffindor dormitory, Sharlen laughing as she hurried behind him.
The two were already partially undressed when they closed Harry's door behind them, Sharlen's shirt unbuttoned as she fell back onto his bed and he wrenched the curtains closed around them. Harry pulled his shirt over his head and laid on top of her between her legs, holding himself up on his elbows, arms tight at her sides as he kissed down the length of her chest to her stomach. Sharlen took a second to steady herself against the visions fighting to take over her sight, focusing on Harry's breath against her skin as he moved lower.
As he began to pull down her skirt and kiss along the inside of her hip bone, her breath caught. Harry paused and looked up at her, his chin resting on her pelvis. "Are you with me?" he asked her quietly, pleased to see the light gray of her eyes instead of white.
"Yes," she said, a little breathlessly, "I can see you."
He finished removing her skirt and panties and took up his wand from the floor beside the bed to quickly cast the Muffliato Charm so they wouldn't be overheard. Sharlen took the brief opportunity to stand and pull her open shirt from her shoulders, forcing Harry to sit down on the end of the bed. She straddled him, naked, and guided his hand up along her outer thigh to take hold of her as he had in the library.
"Where were we?" she whispered, hands moving over his bare chest.
When they finally came apart, Harry pulled the sheet up over them, Sharlen laying her head on his chest. They let their breathing slow, holding each other closely. Harry took his glasses from the bedside table, placed them on the bridge of his nose, and frowned at the watch on his wrist. "We haven't much time before the others are back from dinner," he said with a regretful sigh.
"I wish I didn't have to go back tonight," she said quietly, not looking up at him.
Harry turned toward her on his side, supporting her head with his arm, his other hands moving down along her side. "Snape will murder us both if you're not in the Slytherin dorms when he comes to collect you tomorrow morning," Harry said, giving her side a brief squeeze.
"I don't think I can leave this bed while you're in it," she whispered. Harry made a fist full of the sheet over her stomach.
Harry sat up and knelt before her between her legs again, removing his glasses once more and hovering over her on his hands. "One more go, and then I'll drop you off."
The next morning, Sharlen woke earlier than usual and dressed silently in the darkness of her dorm room. She took her potion and, at Snape's insistence, put it back in her bedside table. She detested being away from her flask for fear of it being tampered with by her roommates, but she had her first Ministry lesson in Hogsmeade that morning and Snape had made it clear that bringing a flask of dark potion would not make a great Ministry impression. Once she was convinced it was hidden well enough, she put on her gloves and descended the stairs to the deserted common room, where Snape was just arriving.
"Ready?" he asked curtly. She nodded and followed him from the room.
The sun was still rising over the Forbidden Forest. Sharlen thought the grounds looked lovely in the dim light, the blue white balance of early morning giving everything a peaceful glow. She and Snape walked along in silence toward Hogsmeade, catching up to a few seventh year students who were also on their way to the Ministry lessons. Once they left the gates of Hogwarts, Snape muttered, "It will be opportune for you to know at this point that there are yet still a handful of members of the Order of the Phoenix who do not know who you really are."
"You don't say?" Sharlen asked nervously. "Why is that?"
"Alastor Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt will be present today and they are too high in the Auror Office at the Ministry to be expected to handle information of your origin… lightly," he muttered quietly, looking about them. "For these purposes you will tell them you are orphaned and do not know who your parents are."
"Okay," Sharlen agreed hesitantly. Wouldn't highly regarded Aurors be able to see holes in a story like that? Or had Snape already given them more information and she simply had to agree? "Is there anything else I need to know?"
"Yes," he said, stopping them in a secondary square just before the center of town. "Don't hold back your abilities. Even that you're an Animagus. Show them you would be useful to the Ministry, hence your interest in this course."
"But I'm unregistered," Sharlen exclaimed, glancing around herself anxiously. "Won't they arrest me?"
"In other times, they would throw you in Azkaban, yes," Snape agreed. "But your condition was not your doing, and in a time of war, an unregistered Animagus could prove to be valuable. The Ministry is desperate."
A dozen or so other Hogwarts students, none of them Slytherins, had gathered silently in the square. Snape left her side and went to join Lupin, who looked tired and tarnished but gave her a friendly smile and wave. She returned it mutely, feeling nervous and not at all keen to reveal herself. Deep breaths, she thought, This is great practice for all the acting I'll have to do soon.
With a loud crack, seven Ministry Aurors appeared before them in the square, each one looking drastically different than the others. The one in the center was so scarred Sharlen thought he must surely be unrecognizable from his original state, with a large chunk taken out of his nose and one huge, bright blue eye whizzing about dizzily in his head, dramatically contrasting his normal, beady black one. Sharlen felt a wave of nausea hit her watching the eye as it settled on her. Even when he looked away with his normal eye, the blue one didn't leave her. She looked at Snape, hoping he would give her some sign that this was fine, but he refused to look at her.
The Aurors began introducing themselves to the students, and Sharlen learned the scarred one was Moody. He led most of the instruction and talked about how the Ministry offers this course to eligible students who wished to enter the Auror Office. "Due to being in the middle of a war, the Ministry has seen fit that double the amount of Aurors be tasked to train you and see if any of you will be promising entrants, including myself, because this is apparently more important than me hunting down the Dark Lord."
The tallest, who Moody had introduced as Kingsley Shacklebolt, apparently thought that was very funny, as did Nymphadora Tonks, whose hair was a deep, royal blue. As she openly giggled at Moody, her hair turned from the deep blue to a bright sea green, nearly the same shade as Moody's everpresent aura—suspicion.
"Before we begin, we'll be going among you and interviewing you on your family history, career goals, and overall interest in this position," Moody growled. All the students stayed still and the Aurors doubled up, Shacklebolt moving between them, making their way from both ends to the center.
Sharlen nervously rubbed her fingertips together through her gloves and waited silently until Moody and Tonks approached her. Moody's blue eye had stayed on her and she'd done her best not to stare back at it. Close up, his scarring was worse than she'd previously thought.
"So you're Sharlen Down?" Moody asked lowly. Sharlen nodded, and Tonks put a hand on her shoulder, causing her to flinch.
"Sorry," she said sincerely.
"For what?"
"That you had to grow up with old Snivellus over there," Tonks said with a sneer and a friendly wave to Snape, who looked away agitatedly. Sharlen couldn't help but stare in awe a little.
"Snape and Lupin mentioned that you are unique," Moody added, and Sharlen saw his suspicious blue-green tinge slightly with pale mauve curiosity. Both of his eyes were watching her as her own darted around his frame. "You can see auras, yes?"
"I can," she answered, keeping her face cool and calm. Tonk's aura was as wild as her hair.
"That'll come in handy, that would, don't you think?" she hurried on. "You have to admit Mad-Eye, clairvoyance is invaluable in detection."
"Sure, the real stuff," he growled back. "Cold, are you?" he shot at Sharlen, mouth scowling at her hands.
Sharlen looked down at her gloved hands. "Limiting physical contact," Sharlen answered, choosing to look at his real eye instead of the fake one. "I get contact visions when I touch someone skin to skin."
"Get that from yer mum or dad's side?" Moody fired off at her. She swallowed. "Never met any wizard named 'Down.'"
"It is an odd one," Tonks added. Sharlen could see she was lukewarm at best about her.
"I'm not sure which was a Divine," she answered, trying to seem natural in the lie. Technically, she knew exactly where her abilities came from—the ghost anchored within her. "I never met my parents."
"Legilimens!" Moody shouted suddenly, whipping out his wand and pointing it directly at her chest. Tonks leapt backward with several objections making their way over from the other Aurors and Lupin, but Sharlen kept her face steady on Moody's and breathed easily. Snape's aura betrayed an ounce of pride. She hadn't even flinched when Moody shouted the spell—his aura had tipped her off, the mauve rapidly collapsing into blue-green once again right before his wand appeared.
She could feel Moody trying to poke around in her head, but keeping her mind blank was second-nature to her. After many, many long seconds, Moody lowered his wand and stored it back in his inner breast pocket. "She's accomplished at Occlumency," he muttered, looking now at a very smug Snape.
While he had looked away, Sharlen thought firmly, Legilimens, and reached back through Moody's mind as far as she could. She saw only blackness, and then a door opened from a hundred feet above, flooding light, and a different Moody looked down. It seemed he was in a pit. That was all she got before Moody shut her out and turned back to face her, grinning.
"Not bad, kid," he growled. "I didn't even see your wandwork."
"I don't have any," Sharlen told him. She held out her hands palms up and realized the other Aurors and students were all watching them now. "I don't use a wand."
"Have you ever?" Tonks asked curiously. Sharlen could tell from Snape's aura off to the side that he was pleased she'd opted for "don't" rather than "can't."
"No, never."
"Fine," Moody muttered, trying not to seem too pleased, "Any other tricks we should know about?"
Sharlen glanced over at Snape who gave the smallest of nods, and she transformed into an owl. She flew around their heads twice before transforming back before them.
"That's it," she said quietly.
"Wotcher!" Tonks exclaimed excitedly, clapping a few times. "An owl! Very inconspicuous in our world. No one ever wonders why there's an owl about, not like a fox or lynx or something." She scoffed with her hands on her hips. "Everyone wants their animal form to be so cool and original…"
"You can't be registered," the man named Dawlish said firmly, walking up to her. "You're much too young to have Ministry clearance on that."
"It's true, I'm not," Sharlen said easily, shrugging as if it was out of her hands. "I've been like this as long as I can remember. I don't know who made me an Animagus." A few of the Aurors shared looks with each other, particularly over the moral issues with making a baby or child an Animagus as she was implying happened to her, but no one seemed content to say anything.
"To be frank," Moody said near her shoulder, "An unregistered Animagus has its uses to the Ministry in times of war. Otherwise you'd be going straight to Azkaban to await trial." Sharlen looked over at Snape with wide eyes. He was right! She wondered seriously for the next minute or so, watching a demonstration of protective tactics, if Snape had Imperiused them.
With the brief interviews completed, the Aurors set the students up against each other to run some defensive drills, saying an attack course would be the following week. Distracted while Dawlish continued lining them up, Sharlen caught a glance at Tonks walking close by Lupin. They shared a glance, their auras solid, bright red in that instant, with Lupin's sustaining as he continued to watch her work.
Throughout the rest of the lesson, the other students were largely hesitant to face Sharlen, something Moody let them know was unbecoming of a future hopeful Auror. Switching around, Sharlen faced three of them in turn; though they were all seventh-year students, their wordless spellcasting was nowhere near as advanced as hers was. The element of surprise was obviously in her favor, and she frequently summoned nearby objects to aid in countering attacks.
Facing the last girl of the day, a tenacious Gryffindor Sharlen recognized from all her time spent in their common room, Sharlen narrowly avoided a Stunning Spell before temporarily paralyzing her and summoning her wand. This was after having already disarmed her twice and muting her so she had to rely on wordless spells. "I think we've seen enough for today," Moody said gruffly, holding up his walking staff. The other students stopped as well and Sharlen walked forward to undo her curse and help the girl up. Refusing her hand, the girl snatched her wand from Sharlen and stalked away between two of their peers, cheeks reddening.
"Training to become an Auror is intense and harrowing. The trials and oaths are not for the faint of heart," Moody growled, the Aurors assembling around them. "Next week, if you're up for it, we'll be going into the Forbidden Forest to task you with actual attack maneuvers. There's a physical test involved as well, so get some rest. Until then."
And he Apparated.
Most of the Aurors went with him, but Tonks stayed behind. She walked over to Sharlen, Lupin coming to join them from the other side. "I wanted to let you know that Moody is really impressed," she said stiffly.
"Is he?" Sharlen asked, glancing around at the other students dispersing back to the castle. "He hides it well."
"The Ministry needs all the help it can get now that Defense Guards are becoming the norm for higher-level officials," she explained, "and you could prove very useful, if that's something you want to do. And you pass this course."
Sharlen watched Snape watching her. "I'll consider it, yes."
"Well I know you'll at least be coming next week as well," Lupin added, putting a hand on her shoulder from behind. Sharlen gently tugged the collar of her shirt further over toward her neck to avoid contact. "A few more teachers will be with us in the Forest next week to help ensure peace is kept, specifically with the centaurs. Hagrid, for example. They are not keen to let us in there for this after what happened with Firenze last year."
"We'll have it under control," Tonks waved off as if to tell him not to worry so much. Affection bloomed around Lupin for her again, and Sharlen excused herself and thanked Tonks for assisting her that day. As the day had gone on, Tonk's aura had grown more and more blue-green, her suspicion toward her evident while Moody's had diminished. Snape jerked his head and she followed him back toward Hogwarts, leaving Lupin and Tonks alone.
Looking back at them, Sharlen asked, "Are they together?"
Snape scoffed. "The affairs of monsters should concern you less, not more."
"Understood," she muttered. "So? Did I do what you wanted?"
"I think," he said a little more loudly, "your father would be pleased."
Sharlen faltered slightly. "Because they're warm toward me and therefore more likely to be open with information with me?" she asked hopefully.
"Because you didn't hold back what you're capable of," he responded, looking back toward her at his side, "and once he reveals who you are, they will better understand the threat they face."
She couldn't help but feel slightly downtrodden as they continued their return without speaking further. As disappointing as it was to be praised for something that fell into her father's plan, something inside of her was glad Snape felt compelled to acknowledge that she had done something well. Further, she confessed herself confused by how Tonks had treated her. If Moody, one of the Ministry's most revered Aurors, was impressed with her, what did Tonks have to worry about? She remembered Moody being called "Mad-Eye" and wondered miserably if Tonks's intuition was what Moody's was no longer. She was much younger, and had revealed that she and her family were also clairvoyant.
Breakfast was just about over at this point and Sharlen opted to head to the Great Hall, hoping Harry was nearby still, while Snape made his way up the stairs in the direction of Dumbledore's office. One glance around the Hall showed her that Harry was already gone, so she went to the Slytherin table alone and picked at food here and there, considering how she could use the outcome of that first course to her advantage helping Harry.
It was opportune placement, which she realized must have occurred to Dumbledore when he agreed to let her take the course. The Ministry was just now becoming aware she existed—she wasn't in any records, no one knew who her parents were, and she was gaining the approval of key Aurors. On the other side, her father had insisted on keeping her a secret so almost no Death Eaters knew her or even knew she existed. She was still all but a shadow.
What happened next had her in a blur; descending the stairs to the second floor, she found students crowding around a girl's bathroom, specifically Moaning Myrtle's (who continued to scream despite two other ghosts trying to calm her), everyone talking wildly. Sharlen felt her limbs lightening as she tried to decipher their auras—there were maybe fifty students gathered around. Coote and Peakes came up to her out of the fray, brimming orange. "Sharlen, Sharlen, where did they take Harry?"
"What are you talking about? Speak slower, what's going on?" she implored them, bending slightly at the knees to be closer to the them.
"Professor Snape just took Malfoy to the Hospital Wing from here, there's blood everywhere," Peakes said under his breath, gesturing back to the crowd. "McGonagall took Harry somewhere."
"I think they had a fight," Coote said darkly. "Do you think Harry will still be able to play Quidditch?"
But Sharlen had taken off toward the Hospital Wing, transforming for more speed, flying around the heads of students moving up staircases. When she got there, the doors were barred. She transformed and rapt on the door sharply with her knuckles, white as a sheet. She didn't stop knocking until Snape ripped the door open furiously.
When he saw Sharlen panting before him, his expression lessened its intensity considerably. "The ward is closed," he said quietly.
"Is he okay? Draco?" she breathed. "What happened?"
"He will live," Snape said in a low voice. "Potter cursed him. He lost quite a lot of blood."
"I want to see him," she said firmly. Snape stood aside just enough to let her see inside to where Madam Pomfrey was tending to the blond boy, unconscious on his hospital bed.
Once she glimpsed that he was fine, she hurried up to Gryffindor tower without another word to Snape, where she knew Harry would be, as fast as her legs could carry her. The Fat Lady let her in without question and she clambered through the portrait hole hastily.
They were nowhere to be found, so she ascended the stairs to their dormitories without speaking to anyone, making no attempt to deflect their skeptical looks. When she reached their door, she stood panting on the threshold, taking in the scene.
Harry peered up at her, white as a sheet—he'd had his head in his hands, sitting on the bed with Ginny's arm around him, when she came in. Ron and Hermione were there with them as well, standing to the side looking solemn. Sharlen's eyes never moved from Harry and his pitch-black aura.
She took a few steps into the room and Harry stood, Ginny standing protectively with him. She swallowed hard, her mouth full of ash. "What did you do?"
Harry opened his mouth hopelessly and then closed it, turning to Ron. Ron rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the words. "We'll go," he finally said, looking to Hermione, who nodded in return. The two of them made to go and Ron called back, "Come on, Ginny."
Ginny's hand left Harry's back reluctantly, trailing along his shoulder as she followed her brother from the room, but Harry could hardly notice, he was so transfixed on Sharlen. Hermione closed the door behind them.
Sharlen approached him cautiously. "I came as soon as I heard..." she began, but Harry rushed forward and took her hands in his.
"Katie Bell is back and she said she didn't know who cursed her," he rushed out, eyes wide, begging her to believe him. "Malfoy fled the hall so I followed him and he was saying he would be killed if he didn't do something soon… then he saw me and took out his wand… It was self-defense, it honestly was."
"I believe you Harry, I do," Sharlen assured him, reaching up to hold his face in one hand, half stunned to hear what Draco'd been doing. Had her father been in touch with him all this time? What else would Draco do to try and kill Dumbledore if he got much more desperate than this? "But what spell did you use that hurt him so badly?"
"Sectumsempra," he muttered lowly at the ground.
Sharlen frowned. "That seems really familiar..."
"It was in the Half-Blood Prince's book. 'For enemies,'" he muttered darkly, his head in his hand as he rubbed his scar. He closed his eyes.
"And you clearly didn't know what it would do…" Sharlen said carefully. Harry nodded.
"I've already gotten the third degree from Hermione about that book."
"Have you hidden it?" Sharlen asked quietly. Harry looked up into her eyes questioningly.
"Hidden it?"
"From the teachers." She looked at him blankly, expectantly. "You must assure them it was an accident born of self-defense. We can't let them think this was premeditated."
Harry rubbed his scar, hesitance all over his face. "I actually did… Snape wanted to see my potions book so I ran back and grabbed Ron's… I hid the Prince's copy before I went back to Snape."
"Snape knew what the spell was and he seemed to know exactly where you learned it," Sharlen muttered, brow furrowed in concentration. "Maybe it's been used on him in the past?"
"I'm not sure," Harry sighed, his voice shaking.
Sharlen sat down on his bed and sighed. As sad as she was that he was so scared, she wanted to scold him and wasn't sure she could trace why that instinct was so strong. Maybe Hermione was rubbing off on her… but who would use a spell when they didn't know what it did? "You could have disarmed him, Harry, you could have Stunned him—"
"I know, I know," he gasped, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. "I don't know what I was thinking. I've been wanting to try it out and when I saw Katie back all that rage toward Malfoy just came back over me, all this secretive stuff he's been up to this year… And everything I have to do…"
Knowing he was starting to feel the burden of the prophecy, she softened for him. She looked up at his wide eyes and shook her head at him. "It will be okay, Harry. It will."
Harry sank before her, on his knees, hugging her tightly around the waist. His head rested fretfully on her lap and she removed her gloves to stroke his jet black hair soothingly. His brow was furrowed and he was still shaking like a leaf.
"Please try to calm down," she whispered to him, "You didn't know what the spell was going to do."
"That's not a great excuse for maiming someone," he muttered against her stomach. His arms gripped her tighter and her breath caught in her throat for a minute as she watched him trying to steady his breathing. He was pale and clammy. After several long minutes, he said, "I don't want to do this."
Sharlen's brows furrowed slightly. "What don't you want to do, Harry?"
"I don't want to be Harry Potter," he said finally, defeatedly. He hadn't slackened his grip on her. "I don't want to be the Chosen One, I don't want to have to find out what Voldemort is up to, I don't want these enemies that have been created for me." She listened hard, barely breathing. "I want to go somewhere no one's ever heard my name except you and forget my life up until then."
"Oh Harry," she said, her heart breaking for him. She pulled his chin up lightly so he was looking at her and it seemed he'd aged so much. "You know you don't want that."
"I do," he assured her, pulling her closer, a little straighter on his knees. "Just the two of us, starting over."
"You love Ron and Hermione," she reminded him, "and you need them. You need each other. And the Weasleys and Hagrid and Lupin, they're your family. The students you helped train in Dumbledore's Army, your teachers… you couldn't leave them to this war. You'd go mad with guilt."
Harry knew she was right. Sharlen pulled him back to her.
"We'll take the book and hide it where Snape won't find it," she whispered, leaning down over him. "It will be okay. But maybe save that spell for the next Death Eater you face instead."
Harry didn't laugh.
Sharlen worried for the better part of the next week whether she had sufficiently comforted Harry after the attack; it didn't seem like she'd made him feel much better and he continued to be gloomy. The Prince's book had been hidden deep inside the Room of Requirement, and Harry did not go back to retrieve it.
Now, as Sharlen peeked in on Draco for the fifth time in three days, she felt frustrated with Harry. She was angry with Malfoy for attacking him, sure, but did Harry expect her to fall to pieces comforting him over what he'd done? She knew it was self-defense, but he already knew a dozen spells that would have suited him, spells he'd used before… The Aurors that lead her Ministry course had called the students back to Hogsmeade unexpectedly after classes on Tuesday for a supplemental lecture on proper responses (i.e., when to disarm and apprehend a dark wizard versus when to viciously maim one), and the entire time all she could think about was Harry's rashness and how much trouble he had narrowly avoided.
She worried that with all this talk of Horcruxes, Harry was becoming more susceptible to darker magic—that he was being drawn closer to it, which scared her. The more she thought about it, the stronger the urge to lecture him, though she had largely left that to Hermione. She was becoming frustrated into silence pretending she didn't know everything she did.
Draco appeared to be sulking in his bed as per usual as she approached; Harry had detentions and was banned from Quidditch for the rest of the year, which made Ginny the Gryffindor Seeker. She knew that stung him worse than detentions with Snape, and the last game of the year was just a few days away. Sharlen sat in the chair beside Draco's bed and crossed her legs casually. He threw her a filthy, scornful scowl.
"Back again, traitor?" he growled. Several bags of blood of various volumes floated on either side of him. "Trying to absolve yourself from guilt?"
"Oh come now Draco, don't make me laugh," she muttered quietly, crossing her arms as she observed him, "I'm really in no mood for laughing."
"Why do you keep visiting me?" Draco asked, pale face laced with confusion and anger.
"Funny enough, as this meeting is turning out to be," Sharlen said humorlessly, "Harry keeps wanting to know that same thing."
"Well?"
"I'm trying to make sure you're not sitting here passing the hours trying to come up with a revenge scheme," Sharlen hissed, leaning closer to his bed. Draco looked away. "I'm hoping you understand you deserve what you got and just leave well enough alone. There is enough going on without you causing all these problems for everybody."
"Thanks mum," he snarled, "but what I do is none of your concern, that remains constant."
"You are so full of wit," she sighed, reaching forward to check the levels on one of the floating bags. It had gone low enough to be changed out, so she pulled it from the air, picked up a full one from the bedside cabinet, and allowed it to float a few inches up above his head, having watched Madam Pomfrey do it often enough the past several days to do it herself. "Forgive my lecturing, it's just that sometimes I still feel the need to give you the benefit of the doubt."
"And just why is that?"
"Because I believe somewhere inside you is the potential to be someone other than the selfish, hateful brat you've become. Someone who will make better choices." Sharlen shifted closer to him and added in a much softer voice, "I know you've been defending me to the other Slytherins. I know you care."
Draco seemed at a loss for words, so she continued.
"Harry told me you were upset. That you told Moaning Myrtle you would be killed soon if you didn't do something." She waited, but his eyes continued to avoid hers, his mouth in a pale, thin, stubborn, trembling line. "Draco, don't you think Dumbledore could protect you and your family? If you told him? Don't you believe that?"
Draco scoffed bitterly. "All this will be over soon either way."
Sharlen stood, gathered her bag, and went to leave. Draco grabbed her wrist.
"You should stop visiting," he said quietly, not looking at her. "Especially if it bothers your little boyfriend." Sharlen freed herself gently from his weak grasp and continued out the door.
Harry was waiting for her across the hall as the infirmary door closed behind her, his aura murky with disdain which immediately put her on her guard. She could see the faint gray around his scar and could tell it was bothering him again. Students were milling about on their way to class, making her dizzy. "Visiting again?" he asked coldly.
Sharlen adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder and continued down the hall past him toward class, fingering her necklace. He followed, as she knew he would. "I really don't want to fight about this again, Harry. It's for your own benefit."
"I just don't understand why you're so concerned about that git, checking on him every day," Harry said firmly, hot on her heels.
"Jealous, are you?" she scoffed, refusing to indulge him. "You're as bad as Ron, you know."
"So what if I am?"
"Do you think I'm in there holding his hand and spooning soup into his waiting mouth? Honestly?"
"The idea of you comforting him in any sense makes me sick," Harry muttered dully.
"Well as I've told you before, I'm not comforting him at all," Sharlen rifled off quickly, feeling more and more lightheaded as she made her way through the castle amongst the other students. She took a swig from her flask. "I've been trying to lecture him into dealing with the consequences of his actions. You could stand to do the same."
"He was going to attack me!" he shouted, incredulous.
"It's you I'm worried about, Harry Potter!" she shouted, turning around to halt him. "Forgive me if you find yourself above my protection but I don't trust Malfoy as far as I can throw him and you've done something that makes him all the more lethal—or have you forgotten what he's already accomplished this year? Am I supposed to stand back and let the two of you maim each other in bathrooms?"
Harry took a step back and considered her quietly. As students moving about them continued to stare at them, she could see guilt and a little bit of shame creeping into his aura. "You don't need to protect me."
"That remains to be seen," she snapped, transforming into an owl and opting to fly to class instead.
