"Do you have time to walk outside with me?" Sharlen wrote in her little black book, giving herself a break from the stress of getting dressed. She knew it wouldn't save her, but all the same she held trembling hands over each one of her plain pieces of clothing, unsure of what to wear. He likes Ginny and her clothes are as plain as mine, she reasoned, I'm being stupid. Her eyes darted between the clothes and the pages of the book, eyes growing wider as Harry's reply appeared.

"Of course, we're just finishing an early dinner. Have you eaten?" In fact, Sharlen hadn't eaten. Ever since tea with Hagrid a week before, she'd had little to no appetite—making the decision to reveal herself to Harry had her nerves completely shot. That, and the news of Harry and Ginny's passionate kiss after the match had spread like wildfire throughout the school, despite the fact that Harry still had not told her about it himself. Whenever Sharlen moved about the castle without him—even if she was with Ron or Hermione—whispers and cruel taunts about it met her ears, some from Gryffindor girls ("About time Harry came to his senses and ditched you,") and others from Slytherins ("We've got a few choice curses for Potter, Down,"). No one dared say a word when she and Harry were together, but the eyes followed them everywhere.

She ignored it as best she could and asked Ron and Hermione, both furious to observe these small attacks, to leave it alone.

Their relationship had been too easy, she realized—they fell together too neatly all year, which made the past several weeks of turbulence feel so much more awful. She realized now that the reason inquisitive, curious Harry Potter had let the questions about her parentage go so easily was because he needed her to be there for him, regardless of her past; having lost Sirius and learned of the prophecy, he was all too willing to let go of the questions he had about Sharlen that he usually would have kept in a vice grip. That, and he was fixated on Draco, she reasoned, reaching for a plain black v-neck shirt and black jeans. It didn't matter what she wore, it wouldn't save her from however he would react.

With shaking fingers, she wrote, "I'm all set. Meet me in the entrance hall?" and folded the book back together before she could change her mind and crawl back in bed uselessly. She forced herself out the door of her room, down the steps, through the common room past all the unknowing Slytherins, and out into the main of the castle.

Harry was waiting for her by the suit of armor she and Snape had hidden behind the night he got the memory from Slughorn. He almost found out then, she recalled, walking toward him nervously. I guess it was part of his luck that night that he didn't. From the top of the staircase she noted, squinting slightly, that the gray around his scar was gone. As she walked closer, her heart sank to see the aura change—with every step she took, the gray returned and grew. Knowing finally that his scar was only hurting when she was around, she tried to keep her dismay off her face as he turned to greet her. His hands found her hips, his thumbs slipping into the empty belt loops as he pulled her in for a kiss.

"Going to tell me about your Auror course this morning?" he asked with a little smile on his lips. Sharlen looked up at him with wide eyes; she loved that smile, those lips.

"It was just a physical trial," she waved off, leading him outside. Snape had long stopped attending the courses and she had been required to report to him. She'd been hoping it would help her burn off her nervous energy, but she still felt like she was unraveling. "Running and dodging, those kinds of things. Much less exciting than the Forbidden Forest."

"I still can't believe they let someone in our year take that course," he said, squinting slightly as they walked into the sunlight.

"I'm of age, and you know Dumbledore allows whatever he wants," Sharlen said as she looked about. There were students scattered around the grounds, laying in the grass taking a break from studying, some swimming in the Black Lake.

"Yeah, but the Ministry…"

"They're desperate, right?" Sharlen asked, her hand still in his. "Scrimgeour trying to recruit you as their poster boy over Christmas, they're breaking all kinds of rules right now. That happens in war."

"I didn't even know you were considering taking that course and becoming an Auror," Harry admitted, watching her.

"Neither did I," she admitted, though she had been surprised by how much she'd enjoyed working with the Aurors. "Harry, come sit with me," she said suddenly, leading him to a spot near the lake. They were alone. "Harry, I…" She took a deep breath and tried to smile. "I'm ready to answer whatever questions you have about my origin."

Harry's aura darkened with deep blue-green suspicion, seeping out from his frame. He rubbed his scar absently. "I don't understand."

"All those months ago, the questions you had about me, I pushed them off. I was worried I was too new to your life again for you to understand," she rifled off quickly. "But you have been good to me and I want you to understand why I came back into your life. I want you to know everything about me. So anything I know the answer to, I will answer."

"Why now?" he asked tentatively.

"I wanted to earn your trust, and I think I have," she said quietly, holding his hands in hers.

"Okay…" he muttered, brow furrowed slightly. "Well, where did your last name come from, anyway?"

"I don't know, really." Sharlen leaned back on her hands and looked down at the grass without expression. "I just had it one day. 'Sharlen Down' is just the name I was told was my own."

"Well, what about your parents?"

Sharlen's eyes narrowed slightly, watching Harry. He'd barely hesitated to start asking questions. It was like inviting a flood. "It's not really proper for me to take my father's last name. No part of him went into making me except his blood, the only thing that makes me his daughter. I was not born; I was created, and for the sole purpose of serving him."

Sharlen shivered, getting the distinct feeling he didn't trust her words, that his suspicions were high and alerted, braced. She was too afraid of the truth to look at his aura and be sure. "Well… what about your mother?"

"No woman birthed me. I told you, I was created. I have no mother."

She was skirting her father's identity, and she knew it was obvious.

"If your father just created you, then he must be very powerful…" Harry muttered, looking at the grass deep in contemplation. He was trying to piece it together while prolonging actually asking her. In a sense, who was Sharlen to try and stop him?

"He is, yes…" she muttered miserably.

"Sharlen!" Draco shouted from the main steps, hurtling toward them with his wand drawn. The two hadn't confronted each other since the attack. Harry turned to glare at Malfoy and braced himself, ready an attack. However, by the time he had his wand out, Sharlen had already sent Malfoy flying back.

"Leave, Malfoy," she said in a small voice, "Don't try and interfere."

Malfoy quickly stood and raised his wand as a challenge. Sharlen advanced toward him so he wouldn't be shouting for the entire grounds to hear. Harry followed wearily, wand out, not knowing what was going on. "You're a traitor, Sharlen!" he spat, a few of his blond hairs askew from his fall.

"I never promised my father anything, unlike you," she returned coldly, leaving Harry in a state of utter confusion. Malfoy's father was a Death Eater… so, was Sharlen's, too? Harry couldn't think of a Death Eater who would have the kind of power to create a child, though… "I haven't betrayed anyone."

"How can you say that, telling him? You were created to aid us, and here you defy us without an ounce of guilt!" Draco sliced his wand roughly through the air, but the shield Sharlen built up wasn't strong enough. With a little scream, she was knocked back into Harry's arms.

"Are you okay?" he asked hurriedly, wiping the hair out of her eyes. She nodded vigorously, eyes still on Malfoy, and straightened herself up.

"It's time for you to choose a different path than the one your parents stuck you with, Draco, as I am," she called to him angrily. "You're going to ruin your life."

"I have chosen!" he shouted, once again slashing his wand at her angrily. Harry dived before her, retaliating with a blue flash of light shooting toward Draco. Both boys nearly avoided getting hit.

"Stop it!" Sharlen shouted, putting up a hand and disarming Draco. His wand flew into her hand and she gripped it tightly as he fell to the ground. Harry watched her suspiciously. She glared at Malfoy, who looked murderous. "This is a fight you won't win. Remember your place," she told him dangerously as she sent his wand off back up to the castle. Looking positively livid, his blond hair slightly askew, he marched off after his wand, muttering to himself.

Harry and Sharlen watched him go and as he rounded the corner after his wand, Harry turned to her, dumbfounded. "What the hell was that about?" he asked suspiciously, gesturing after Malfoy. "What was he talking about 'betrayal?'"

"He's concerned for himself, and his bloody parents," she muttered, turning away from him. She took a few steps toward the lake, exhausted.

"What do they have to do with you? What's the betrayal?" he asked, watching her walk away.

She turned back to him and shook her head. "He doesn't want us talking about me and where I come from. It doesn't matter."

"Why don't you just talk to me?" he shouted at her. Sharlen looked away miserably. "Don't make me ask questions. What won't you tell me, and why?"

"What I've been skirting… The issue I've been avoiding…" Sharlen kept stopping, rewording exactly the same phrase over and over. She sighed, trying to calm herself, knowing she couldn't avoid it, avoid him, any longer. She walked right up to him and stared into his eyes. His softened when he saw hers looking weak. "Harry, I've been avoiding something because I had to make sure you could handle it before I told you. I needed to know that you trusted me, regardless of who I really was or what you didn't know about me. That your love for me would allow you to overcome the truth of what you need to know. Do you understand my intent? It was selfish of me, but I just… I just had to make sure you wouldn't overreact." She clutched his shirt in desperation, tears in her eyes, although she didn't blink or look away. "Do you understand, Harry? No matter what your first instinct will be, hearing these words, just know I am your pawn, your advantage. I'm the key to your success in this battle, so please, use me."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, searching her face. What could be so horrible? "Don't be vague. What is it you need to tell me?"

"You won't overreact?"

"I'll keep in mind that I shouldn't."

"Remember, Harry," she pleaded, desperate. "Please, just remember, I'm your key to his defeat. Use me as you must."

Harry stared at her and slowly his eyes narrowed. "'His' defeat?"

Sharlen backed away, nodding, no longer that wild desperation in her eyes, yet paler than he'd ever seen her. "Harry, my… I was created, I told you. I have no mother. My creator, my father, is Tom Marvolo Riddle. Lord Voldemort."

Harry did not move, not his face, not his body, not his eyes… but his aura leapt like real flames, a taupe haze into a silvered dusk burning black at the edges. He was misguided, he was extremely worried, stricken with fear, strained, but mostly he was angry and hurt. Moments stretched painfully as her eyes frantically swept over his aura and his eyes, and she saw his wand arm contemplating reaching for its tool. What she noticed most was that no part of him doubted her confession.

"I beg you…" she whispered. He still didn't move.

"You never told me."

"I can help you defeat him," she said in a hard voice, determined to keep composure. "I can go with you next year. With you and Hermione and Ron. I can help you find his Horcruxes. I know what they are! I'll be your key."

He had without a doubt taken into account her request that he consider what she said over his first instinct. As the moments kept on, she could have sworn she saw tears in his eyes. She saw his grey and black despair overwhelming him. "I'm not like him," she promised quietly, staring at his wand hand, her eyes hard. "I'm nothing like him."

"You're made of him!" he shouted suddenly, bringing out his wand as her eyes jumped to his. "You've got his blood in your veins! You said yourself that's what he used to make you—how could you not be just as evil?"

"Blood is all we share," Sharlen muttered sadly. "Blood doesn't make you good or evil. I am not evil. Please, Harry, you know this. You know me."

"How do I know this whole time you haven't been telling him everything about me, helping him plan his final attack?" Hatred was building within him, and Sharlen for the first time felt afraid of Harry. The gray aura around his scar was pulsing angrily. "Ginny's been right about you."

"S-she knew?" Sharlen muttered faintly, trying to keep him talking.

"She's been saying all along that whatever your story it was dark and that I should stay away from you. And she was right—I'm vulnerable around you. Vulnerable to Voldemort." Exasperated, finally letting it click, he shouted, "My scar even hurts around you! I've been inside you!"

Her chest ached, a small gasp catching on tears in her throat as she clutched her shirt for an ounce stability. "I came back to help you," she assured him tearfully. She reached for him and he pulled his arm away roughly. "My origin is not who I am. Please, Harry. You know me."

Realization poured over him suddenly, his face falling in shock. "When we were kids… He sent you to me. Then he took you away. To hurt me. You were the only way he could get to me."

Sharlen squeezed her eyes shut, unable to answer as her teeth chattered. She willed it all to be a dream.

"You are unbelievable," he said, disgusted. "You were created as a weapon. That's obvious now. You will always be an instrument of his."

"I'm not," she cried. "Please."

"Shut up!" he shouted, his wand out between them. He was shaking. "You need to leave, now. Leave Hogwarts and never come back."

"I'm not dangerous! Your Sneakoscope has never lit up around me, not once!" she cried, getting desperate now.

"A toy," he spat bitterly, furious.

"It works and you know it," she moaned in a much smaller voice, quavering under his gaze. "And Crookshanks trusts me, you know he's a good judge of people. He picked Peter Pettigrew out right away, you told me so. And Dumbledore knows about me, too—he let me come here. All the teachers know."

"Get out of my sight!" Harry shouted angrily, unable to take any more of what she was revealing to him, his wand held before him as a threat. Sharlen had her hands held up to try and show him she meant no harm, but to no effect—he knew that was how she cast spells. "Leave Hogwarts and never come back."

"I won't leave you," she said with tears in her eyes. "I promised I wouldn't leave you again. I can help you. You trust me."

Harry strode toward her quickly and heavily and in a dangerously quiet voice, his face close to hers, said, "I can never trust you."

In one swift movement, Harry tore the long gold chain from her neck, snapping it against her skin. Blood blossomed quickly to the surface as it cut her.

"I still trust you even though you kissed Ginny!" she gasped, one final desperate attempt. Harry's eyes widened, but the green guilt in his aura appeared only briefly before it was swallowed up by his hatred.

Muttering "Reparo" to the necklace in his fist, he turned and started back up towards the castle, walking in huge, fast strides, and Sharlen took off after him. She got about ten feet away and he whipped around, shouting, "Expelliarmus!" She flew backward and hit the ground heavily but got right back up. She started after him again at a bit of a run, calling after him, but he threw a curse over his shoulder and growled, "I will hurt you if you come anywhere near me or my friends again. This is my last warning."

Sharlen stopped in her tracks and slowly sank to her knees as she watched him walk away toward the castle.

For a long time, Sharlen did not move. She stayed under the tree where Harry left her, tears silently leaking down her cheeks, staring wide-eyed at the grass. Her hands lay open on her lap, palms up as if something precious had been torn from her fingers. Surely he was just caught off guard, surely he would be warmer to her once he had time to consider what she'd told him… He couldn't go from love to hate so quickly, he didn't mean to send her away. He was just shocked…

Night had fallen quickly. The skin of her back felt sticky against her shirt from the blood running down. Beneath the Astronomy tower, she wondered if she had to leave this spot at all; it was well past curfew, but no one was looking for her. Maybe if she didn't move at all Harry would realize her intentions were pure...

"Morsmordre!" came a voice from high above and Sharlen felt as though someone had run her through with a sharp, thick icicle, her eyes growing wide as dinner plates. She looked up with all sadness erased by fear—the Dark Mark, a giant, glittering skull with a snake coming from it's mouth, burst above her from the Astronomy tower.

With a surge of purpose, her face set, Sharlen turned into an owl and flew straight up, over the battlements and onto the landing of the tower. She transformed into her body with her hands out, ignoring the stiffness in her bones as her palms joined at the heel, but no one was there. She rushed down the stairs of the tower, a sharp eye on the landings beneath the open stairs, but whoever had cast the Dark Mark spell had vanished quickly.

Who else could have conjured it but Snape? He must be out of his mind, she thought, sprinting down the first landing and out into the topmost corridor. What the hell is going on?

She kept running, landing lightly to remain as quiet as possible, and spotted Lupin down the seventh floor corridor. She ran to meet him. "What's happening? Someone just cast the Dark Mark."

"Several of the members of the Order of the Phoenix are here tonight," he explained, frenzied. "Dumbledore is away from the castle. Did you see who conjured it?"

Sharlen shook her head, and from the corner of her eye a flash of green light burst from behind the tapestry concealing the Room of Requirement. Sharlen dove at Lupin, knocking him to the ground with her, and slashed her left arm through the air, cutting the Death Eater that emerged across the chest with purple fire. The flames leapt around the circumference of his torso and he crumpled, burned but alive, unconscious on the ground. Lupin righted himself and stared.

"How do you know that spell?" he asked, aghast.

"My Master," she answered solemnly. She was only vaguely aware that her cheeks were stained with hours of steady tears. "How are Death Eaters in the castle right now? How many are there?"

But before Lupin could answer, another Death Eater emerged, hexes flying, Lupin quickly dueling with him. Their movements were rapid and Sharlen could barely see whose wand was whose, and soon another man was upon her. As fast as she could gasp he shot a stream of flaming, roaring white light at her which caught her on the shoulder; Sharlen screamed in pain as her t-shirt sleeve ignited. Holding both hands over the flame, water began pouring from her palms to douse it, the skin of her neck and shoulder badly burned and blistering. The pain of it was blinding and it was hard to draw breath; she was afraid she might pass out.

Sectumsempra! she screamed in her head, both hands out before her, staggered by the pain; blood burst from the man's face, chest, and arms and he flew backward with his fellow, gasping and choking. Sharlen looked around to see Lupin was holding his own in the duel and walked toward the tapestry, shouting at the entrance to the Room of Requirement, "I need to stop them from coming!"

The room allowed her to enter and she hurried inside to find a massive hall full of treasures and junk alike piled dozens of feet high, in no order, as if every unwanted thing anyone in the castle had ever hoped to get rid of lay before her. The burn searing white-hot made the chaos of the moment unbearable—but how were they getting into the castle? Everything was completely still, though her own blood in her ears was deafening.

Then she saw it—a large cabinet at the end of the corridor to her left was shut, but she saw it shake and the door begin to open from the inside. She put her hands together, wincing in pain, and threw up her right hand. Reducto!

The cabinet exploded into a cloud of black dust and Sharlen hurtled back toward the exit, running as fast as she could to find Lupin again.

The fighting was moving further down through the castle. She caught up to Lupin who pulled her toward him around a corner, motioning that she should be quiet. She was breathing hard from the burn, gritting her teeth. "They were getting in through a cabinet in the Room of Requirement," she groaned. "I destroyed it."

"And those men? Are they following you?" he asked sternly, waving his wand over her wounded skin. A sensation not unlike a cool breeze instantly soothed her and she couldn't hold back a loud moan.

"They might be dead," she panted with her eyes closed. "Potentially a third coming out of the cabinet."

"I'm not a true healer, but this will hold you until we can get to the hospital wing. That looks like a Dragon Fire spell," Lupin muttered, checking the corners. "We have to find out who's behind this."

"It's Snape, it has to be Snape," Sharlen whispered. "He's not on your side, he's never been on your side. Him and Malfoy. How else could the Death Eaters get in here?"

"Impossible," Lupin said, clearly unsure. His aura was in chaos. "I have to go down, Tonks is below in the fight. I have to be with her. You need to see Madam Pomfrey."

"I'm fine, you fixed it," Sharlen protested harshly. "I'm going to find Snape. You help the others." Lupin nodded and set off toward the entrance hall while Sharlen made for the dungeons at full speed. She didn't dare transform in case she ran into someone particularly unfriendly and needed to be able to defend herself.

Just outside Snape's office Sharlen saw Hermione and Luna, who looked like they were standing guard. "Hermione! Luna!" she shouted, running up to them. "What are you doing here? It's too dangerous, you shouldn't be here."

"What do you know of it?" Hermione asked cruelly. She seemed to think better of herself and glanced wearily at Luna. "We… we had to tell Snape something but he's just gotten away."

Sharlen cursed, looking around herself though she was sure she hadn't seen Snape pass her. "We have to find him. The Dark Mark. Death Eaters are in the castle."

"What happened to you?" Luna asked, staring at her shoulder. The blistering had ceased thanks to Lupin's spell, but it was angry and shiny, nearly glittering in the lamplight of the hall.

"Two Death Eaters," Sharlen panted, trying to make them understand. Their eyes were wide and constant. "I got two of them and Lupin was dueling one as well, he tried to heal my burn. There must be more, we have to find Harry. They must be after him."

"Right, of course," Hermione said, trying to act casual. "We'll bring you to him."

Sharlen glanced wearily at Hermione and Luna's auras through heavily lidded eyes and took a step away—even the constant white she had always expected around Luna was dirtied with graying fear, like aging snow. She realized Hermione and Luna's wands, held down by their sides, were both pointing at her. "He told you," she muttered sadly. "You're afraid of me. Harry told you who I am."

"Incarcerous!" Hermione shouted, her voice shrill with fear as her wand emitted thick, black cords that engulfed Sharlen. They gagged her and held her so tightly she felt the friction cut into her wrists and neck, agony on her raw, burned skin. A muffled scream escaped her sharply but before she could cast a rebounding spell, Hermione added, "Petrificus Totalus!" to paralyze her. She went rigid on the ground.

"Hermione, what do we do with her?" Luna asked, glancing around. "Do you think the Death Eaters really are here?"

"Yes," came a panting Professor Flitwick, who surveyed the situation fretfully. "Miss Granger, this wasn't necess—"

"Professor, we know who she is, Harry warned us," she explained. "She can't be trusted. Surely you know that!"

"I want you two to go to Professor McGonagall and tell her Snape has disappeared," he said firmly. "Protect each other and keep your wands up! I will stay with Miss Down."

The two girls didn't argue and set off toward the sound of the fray below. Flitwick waved his wand to free her from her binds and paralysis; Sharen sat up with a long gasp and began to cough.

"Professor, I—you can't—"

"In here," he said firmly, gesturing her into Snape's office. She did as she was told and he followed, closing and barring the door behind them.

"Professor, I had nothing to do with this," she pleaded with him to understand. "I saw the Dark Mark in the Astronomy tower and flew up to help, they were getting in through—"

"I believe you," he said calmly.

Sharlen's face fell. "You do? You really do?"

"Of course I do," he said. "No part of me believes you have your father in you."

Sharlen stared at him for several seconds. "Professor Flitwick, we have to go join the fight. Harry's here somewhere, they must be after him. I can't let them hurt him, please, we have to go help the others."

"I can't allow you to leave, I'm afraid," he said regretfully. "I can't trust that the other students who know about you now won't try to attack you, or that the Death Eaters won't try to take you with them. We will go to the Headmaster when the others have finished the battle."

"We can't just not fight! The Death Eaters don't know who I am!" she shouted.

"Sharlen," Flitwick reasoned, "what if Harry tries to kill you?"

"He won't. Please," she begged, feeling desperate and trapped, "Please, I have to help Harry. I have to. What will I do if he's killed?" At the sound of her own words she sank to the ground, the words he shouted at her earlier echoing in her head as tears brimmed in her eyes again. Flitwick patted her unharmed shoulder but remained silent and made no move to allow her to leave.

They stayed very quiet, Sharlen shaking uncontrollably, listening to the crashes and bangs from the battle in the castle entrance. Every second was agony, the pain in her neck and shoulder a sharp ache crashing over her again and again as she imagined all the horrible things that could be happening to Harry. The heat in her skin was insurmountable. What would she do if he died angry with her? Hating her?

Eventually it moved out to the grounds and then it stopped. Only when it had been quiet for several minutes did Flitwick help her stand and instruct her to follow closely behind him, heading toward the Hospital Wing. When they got there, the scene before them was grim; Lupin and Tonks looked miserable standing before each other and someone, unmistakably a Weasley son, was badly maimed on one of the hospital beds, being tended to by a beautiful girl with long, silvery blonde hair and Mrs. Weasley. Hagrid appeared to have tearfully just entered not long before them and Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and Harry stood in the center, all looking worse for wear, exhausted, defeated. For the moment, Sharlen was so relieved none of them were hurt that she forgot Harry loathed her, until their eyes met.

"I have her, Minerva—" Flitwick began, but he was cut off by cries of outrage from the four Gryffindors. Hagrid flung himself upon Harry, restraining him, and Lupin and McGonagall drew their wands before Ron, Ginny, and Hermione to halt them. Tonks looked startled.

"What is the meaning of this?" McGonagall shouted, completely abashed. Ginny shouted at Sharlen past the professor, "You should be ashamed!"

"Why, Ginny?" Harry asked, dripping with scorn as his voice shook, glaring at Sharlen with an unforgiving hatred she had never felt directed at her before. She stared at him fearfully, rooted to the spot behind Flitwick. "Dumbledore's dead, she got exactly what she wanted."

"No," she whispered, her hands going numb. She heard a familiar ringing growing louder in her ears.

"Your Master killed him! He killed Dumbledore!" Harry screamed at her, straining against Hagrid. "Your old pal Draco failed!"

The Unbreakable Vow… Everything went quiet as the teachers protested around her, shouting her name as she came crashing heavily to her knees. I still need him. Harry still needs him. He can't be gone… Master, what have you done...

Madam Pomfrey rushed toward her with a salve in her hands. Kneeling beside her, the nurse examined her shoulder. "This will heal, with time. You're lucky it didn't spread faster—Dragon Fire ignites like nothing else in our world. Worse even than Fiendfyre. How did you get cut?"

Her mind dull with shock, she remembered how Harry tore the necklace off of her, breaking the skin. Dried blood ran down her entire back, past congealing and beginning to flake from the movement of the past hour or so. She looked at Harry and didn't answer. If his aura was to be believed, he felt no guilt. Pomfrey dabbed the salve heavily on her skin, cold as if she was packing actual snow over her. Her shivering worsened, jaw jumping as her teeth chattered.

"Come now, Miss Down, I need to know how you were cut so I can heal it properly," she fussed, impatient as ever but so preoccupied with the news of Dumbledore's death that it was almost as if she was on autopilot.

"It, it wasn't magic," Sharlen said in barely more than a whisper.

"Put your wands away this instant!" McGonagall shouted to the Gryffindors, moving further in front of Sharlen. She turned her sharp eye to each in turn, exasperated. "I would expect better from students in my house!"

"How can you defend her after what's happened tonight? After what we know about Snape?" Harry asked furiously as Hagrid restrained him. He shifted violently, to no avail. "He's her Master! For all we know, she helped them tonight!"

"She has been under my watch since Miss Granger and Miss Lovegood left the dungeons," Professor Flitwick called from Sharlen's side. She was speechless.

"And what about before?" Harry snarled. Ron stood faithfully beside him, wand still pointed at Sharlen through the teachers. "She's on their side, she was probably aiding Malfoy all year, she probably would have fought alongside Snape tonight if I hadn't warned the others to take her down!"

"Remus, what is going on?" Tonks asked, looking between Sharlen and Harry. Lupin shrugged defeatedly, choosing not to answer her.

"Two of the Death Eaters were subdued before any of us even found them in the entry," Lupin protested to Harry, "and she is the one who did it."

"Prove it," Harry challenged him, "Let's see the last spells her wand performed—oh wait, she doesn't have one! Rather convenient, don't you think?"

"I saw her, Harry," Lupin tried to reason. "She saved my life and she destroyed the cabinet so no others could come through."

"It's all a ploy!" Harry shouted. "She's had all of us fooled, doing Voldemort's bidding!"

"She is a product of The Dark Lord," Lupin exclaimed firmly, standing protectively in front of Sharlen with one arm out, imploring Harry and the others to stand down and leave her. "That is where her connection to them ends."

"SHE IS A TOOL, AN INSTRUMENT," Harry shouted, still trying to get around Hagrid, who was openly sobbing by this point. "HOW CAN YOU DENY WHAT SHE IS?!"

"Albus Dumbledore trusted her, and so do we," McGonagall said harshly.

"HE TRUSTED SNAPE!" Harry roared.

"Are you trying to tell me this girl is involved with Voldemort and you've known about this?" Tonks asked loudly, rounding on Lupin. She pointed openly at Sharlen. "And you let her go through Ministry training?! I knew there was something dark about her, Remus. You led me astray."

"The teachers were informed, yes," Lupin admitted wearily. "This is not the time to discuss it. We know what side she is on, Tonks. We didn't think you Aurors could handle it."

"We knew too, Tonks," came Molly Weasley from her son's bedside. Arthur put a hand on her shoulder as Ron and Ginny turned to their parents, abashed. "She is good. It's alright."

"How could you have known what she was and let her anywhere near Harry, any of you?!" Ginny shouted at her parents and the teachers.

Sharlen squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. Worse than the pain, worse than the heat and cold warring against each other on her neck and shoulder, was everyone finally finding out about her, referring to her as though she were an object instead of a person. She couldn't stand how completely everything had fallen apart.

"You all need to calm down. She has done nothing to harm anyone here. There was an attack on the Burrow, at Christmas," Lupin told them. "We were able to prevent it because Sharlen had Dumbledore warn us. She saved your family."

The trio began shouting again all at once, outraged this had been kept from them while Ginny rounded on her parents again.

"I knew what Draco was planning," Sharlen confessed, thoroughly miserable. Everyone turned back to her, falling silent. "I told Dumbledore at the beginning of the year. I know Harry had done it, too. Dumbledore told me that his interference would put Draco in danger from Voldemort. He chose to do nothing so Draco would be spared." Harry, knowing Dumbledore had said this himself, was resigned toward Sharlen, not knowing what to think of her, not knowing what to feel for her, blinded by his hatred and his grief.

McGonagall ignored Harry and turned to Flitwick. "Filius, Sharlen will be in your charge until after the funeral."

"I don't want her anywhere near Dumbledore's funeral," Harry said in a voice made of stone.

"She's of age but will need some amount of protection," McGonagall continued to Flitwick quietly, hinting at Harry's fury behind her. "And keep her far away from the Minister and the others when they do arrive."

"Why are you protecting her?" Harry called out, finally throwing himself back from Hagrid. Ginny gripped his forearm, glaring at Sharlen, who stared helplessly at both of them.

"Because she has done nothing wrong," McGonagall explained simply and firmly. Lupin nodded his head in agreement. "And Professor Dumbledore would sooner have broken bread with You-Know-Who than wished harm on a student who had done nothing but be born into precarious circumstances. You'll notice, I think, that she has not fled the grounds with the Death Eaters? That they have left her behind and she is willingly captive currently? That she has been closer to you all year than anyone else and has done nothing to betray your trust other than be born to your enemy?"

McGonagall lent a curt nod to Flitwick and he helped Sharlen off the ground and escorted her away. She gave one last tear-stained look around the room, at Molly Weasley as she stared tearfully after her from Bill's bedside, and followed him soundlessly. Drawing away, she heard McGonagall saying she wanted to see the teachers in her office immediately but wanted Harry to follow her first before the Minister arrived.

Over the grounds, Fawkes the phoenix sang his lament all night long.

In the days following days leading to Dumbledore's funeral, Sharlen was kept in Flitwick's chambers, staring out the window. He recognized that she was of age and had done nothing wrong, but the Order of the Phoenix were unsure of what to do with her; word had spread amongst the students of who she was and fear had overtaken them, so she was no longer safe in the castle. What's more, with Snape out of the picture and revealed as faithful to Voldemort, they didn't know where she should go. Truthfully, Sharlen didn't either. The Ministry never knew her part in the battle that night; the man she burned with the purple fire had been apprehended, but his fellow died in the castle. It was unknown which Death Eater was destroyed with the Vanishing Cabinet, as no trace of them remained.

Many of the students were taken away by their parents immediately the morning after the attack, while some outright refused, as Seamus did, to leave the school before Dumbledore's funeral. Hoards of witches and wizards from all over the world were swarming to Hogsmeade for lodgings, waiting to pay their last respects to the deceased headmaster; the extra energy in and around the grounds, the crushing weight of everyone's sadness, had her shaking every hour of every day.

She refused food and company, save for Madam Pomfrey. Every eight hours she entered unceremoniously to reapply the burn salve on her skin and then left again after a small pat on her head. Day by day, the large burn was changing as it healed, until finally no pigment remained, the skin on the left side of her neck and down her collarbone and shoulder to her bicep was starkly white.

A few times a day, Piotr came to the window to see her; dolefully, she let him in to sit with her before he would eventually leave again. Once a day, Flitwick escorted her to the staffroom bathroom to bathe, waiting outside to escort her back while she stood unmoving under the hot water.

Beneath the weight in her chest, Sharlen knew what she had to do to help Harry. Dumbledore had been right: She knew there was always the possibility he would hate her instinctively no matter what she did or how she told him. After the funeral, she would find Mad-Eye Moody and offer her services to the Auror office. Even with her path set before her, she couldn't help but hope and crave that someday Harry would realize all she'd done to try and help him.

Seated by the window, she mourned the absence of the amber necklace, running her fingers over the raised scar as she recalled the night that seemed like a lifetime ago when she asked if Harry wanted her to scare Cormac into behaving on the Quidditch team. I think you love me, Harry Potter.

"I've been inside you!"

She dropped her head into her arms resting on the window sill and let the tears overwhelm her.