Disclaimer / I don't own anything

Just a little recap for those who might not have read the last chapter. Isabelle was raped and abused by Vernon Dursely when she was a child. She told McGonagall and Dumbledore and they shared a small moment. This chapter carries on from the this, but nothing is mentioned in too much detail. Isabelle is now into the proper lesson, still in the same lesson though. So...carrying on.

Chapter 10

Isobel's POV

"The first step to control is to focus on your breathing and making sure it's even," Dumbledore starts.

I nod, remembering the deep breaths the professors were taking before.

"Sometimes this will be enough," he continues. "Sometimes that's all it will take to calm down. But if it's not, it helps to have a good memory. Something you can think about that calms you down, makes you happy."

I bite my lip, not wanting to point out a have very few happy memories. They realise though, and McGonagall pipes in.

"It doesn't strictly have to be a memory; it can be a dream or an idea. It just needs to be something that makes you happy."

I smile, relieved.

"Yes," Dumbledore continues. "When you feel yourself getting upset or angry, you should focus on that. Bring forth the feeling you get when you think about it. Happiness or calmness. This helps you to control your magic because it distracts you. It causes negative feelings to abide."

Dumbledore pauses to make sure I'm following. I nod to signal my understanding.

"Can you think of something?" McGonagall asks gently.

I think. I try to think of a memory as Dumbledore suggested, but none of them seems right. There's some with Harry, Ron and Hermione, but I don't think they're strong enough. I try to think of something calming. Leaning on Harry's shoulder after a hard day was always comforting. I ponder that, wondering if it will be good enough.

"I might have one," I say. "I'm not sure if the emotion is strong enough though."

"That's alright," Dumbledore says. "That's what these lessons are for. To help you find the right one."

I nod.

"But I wouldn't be surprised if you can't think of a good one," he suddenly says.

I frown, a little confused.

"Your childhood was quite bad and full of misery," Dumbledore continues. "Just thinking about how much you and your brother would've been hurt and mistreated…"

I purse my lips, not saying anything.

"But if I'm being honest," Dumbledore carries on. "I'm disappointed. I mean, Mr Potter is the Boy who Lived, I would have expected better from him. You would think he could defend himself."

Anger builds up in me as his words sink in. I can't believe that he would say this. He said he wouldn't use any of the information I gave him against me. And now he throws it back at me?

"But you, Isobel," Dumbledore continues, oblivious to my anger. "What did you do? You just stood there and took it. You know, at first, I was impressed by you. You seemed so powerful and had so much potential. But now I hear this, and I don't know what to do. You could have done something to defend yourself, but instead, you cried about your misfortune."

The reality of his words hits me like a ton of bricks and dread settles over me. I try to shake it away though, as Dumbledore carries on and continues with his harsh words. I look at McGonagall, seeing if she will do anything. Surely the Headmaster can't say things like this to me? But she looks disappointed as well, and sadness flickers in her eyes. I desperately try to blink back tears as a feeling of betrayal hits me. Her as well? I am just about to look to the ground, unable to look at them, when something clicks. In the corner of my vision, I had noticed a silver device shaking a little. Then I realised they were doing this on purpose. Dumbledore's words come back to me.

"We will purposely try to rile you up. That's how you will learn to stay calm."

With this realisation, I square my shoulders and stare right at the professor. He notices and starts talking louder, saying hasher things. His words hit me, but I try to ignore them, focusing on my breathing as he said. I start to calm down a little, but then I start listening to his words again. Not giving up, I desperately try to remember all the times Harry and I had sat together under the cupboard, leaning on each other's shoulders. I focus on those moments, trying to bring forth that calm feeling. Dumbledore's voice rips through though and I lose my focus. My memories turn dark, and tears prick at my eyes once again. I'm tempted to call it quits and have a break. Try again later. But then a little voice inside me tells me to keep going. To not give up. Determined, I race my mind for a better memory or thought.

"Failure. Disappointment. Good riddance."

Dumbledore's words break through me like a knife. He's right. I'm a failure. I couldn't protect myself, or Harry. The professors were right to give me to the Dursley's. I'm a disgrace to be called Harry's sister.

I sink deeper and deeper into oblivion. Dark thoughts overwhelm me and flood my mind. The darkness keeps seeping through. The only thing keeping me from completely collapsing is Dumbledore's voice. His words lose meaning, but the sound of his voice, despite its harshness right now, is my light in the dark. He had become, in my mind, a parental figure. He cared for me and spoke and looked at me with such kindness that I couldn't help but use his voice as a beacon of hope. With the last bit of my strength, I focus everything I have on him. It causes something in me to spark. I try to think of a time his voice was especially light. My mind flicks back to the dream I had before this lesson. Where I was cradled in Dumbledore's arms as a baby. I imagine my conscious at that moment. The warmth of the blankets that surrounded me and his arms that held me. The tickle of his beard as it lightly hit my arm. His voice, soothing me into a deep sleep. Now I truly understand what Dumbledore meant by using that feeling. He didn't mean to try and spread that feeling all over my body in the present. He meant to revel in that moment of the past. The room and the professors fade around me, and all I am pulled into that memory. All I can see is black as my baby's eyelids close. My ears open to the unintelligible words Dumbledore murmurs to soothe the baby in his arms. I feel the gentle swaying as he rocks me back and forth. A true feeling of calm and ease flows over me. All my worries fade away, and I feel like I'm floating on a cloud. Slowly, the darkness fades. A light emerges and I reach out to it. Taking hold of it, it pulls me forward, and I'm brought back to the present. I open my eyes, not realising I had closed them. As I look around, I see Dumbledore and McGonagall smiling at me, pride shining in their eyes. I see that nothing is shaking or ringing. I'm in complete control. Despite what just happened, I can't fight the smile that forms across my face. Somehow, I managed to fight it, and I won. It took time, and I'm exhausted, but I still did it. McGonagall comes up to me and wraps me in her embrace. I sink into it, revelling in the safe feeling. I notice Dumbledore hang back though, so I break away and walk up to him. Before I can anything, he beats me to it.

"I'm so sorry Isobel, I felt terrible saying all those things."

He looks so upset that I have to believe him.

"It's okay," I say. "It wouldn't have worked if you had told me beforehand."

To reassure him that I'm not angry at him, I take his hand and squeeze it a little, giving him a small smile. When I first met him, I would never have dared. But now I had no hesitations. I thought about telling him what memory I used, but I decided against it. Instead, I let go of his hand then walked back a little.

"Shall we try again?" I ask.

McGonagall speaks up.

"Not tonight."

I'm about to protest but Dumbledore cuts me off.

"She's right," he agrees. "This has been a very beneficial lesson already. I can see you're exhausted Isobel, so anymore won't do anything. Plus, it's late," he pointed out.

Sighing a little, partly relieved, partly disappointed, I nod. The professors bid me goodnight, and I exit the office. I'm about to head back to Gryffindor tower when I realise I told the others I would try and sleep elsewhere tonight. I debate telling them they didn't want me there, but part of me wants the night alone. So I decide to spend the night in the guest rooms, where I did the first night. I know Dumbledore will understand, and it won't make any difference because Hogwarts doesn't get guests. I let the golden path lead me and find the room I slept in before. I recall the pattern Dumbledore traced to get in and pray it works for me. Miraculously, it does, and the door springs open. I go inside and quickly have a shower before collapsing into the bed. I toss and turn for a while, trying to fall asleep. Eventually, I give up and lie on my back, staring at the ceiling, thoughts swirling through my head. I think about the events of the night. A part of me is still in denial about telling them about Uncle Vernon. It seems like I've let them into every aspect of my life, which I suppose I have, but telling them that seems wrong. Like I should've just forgotten about it and never mentioned it. Like it should be locked deep down inside me and never let out. I'm tempted to run back to his office and somehow make them forget what I told them. But the realistic part of me knows that I can't, and what's done is done. I flick my mind back to their reactions. They were obviously angry and upset, but it seemed to motivate them even more. There was a determined look in Dumbledore's eyes as he began to anger me and McGonagall seemed steeled like she was ready to do anything to make sure I learnt control. Whatever it was, I could tell they were invested in my learning and didn't think less of me for it. For that, I am extremely grateful. I was afraid it would alter their views on me, and to know that it didn't, relieved me heaps. I sigh into the dark. Knowing I won't be able to sleep for a bit, I get up and walk to the window in the bedroom. I look out over the Forest and watch the moon. It spills light upon the sky, and the stars shine brighter than I have ever seen them. I stand there, just watching the night sky, for who knows how long. Finally, I return to my bed, falling into sleep quickly. But it is not peaceful.

I am nine years old, sitting in the dark of the cupboard under the stairs. Harry was sleeping after a full day of work. Aunt Petunia was cooking in the kitchen while Dudley was watching television. Uncle Vernon's voice rung out, calling for me. Shaking, I stood up and exited the cupboard. I walked into the kitchen to see my uncle. All he said was,

"Follow me."

I did, and he led me upstairs to his office. He made me go in first, and when he entered, he locked the door behind him. Tears pricked my eyes as I knew what was happening. This wasn't the first time. I knew from before what I had to do. Stand still, and don't make any noise. Let him do what he wanted. So that's what I did. Fighting back tears, I stood like a statue. When it was over, he shoved me out the door. I ran down to the shower, scrubbing myself furiously to try and get rid of the feeling and the memory. I let my tears flow down my cheeks, carried away by the stream of water. Hurriedly, I dried myself and got dressed, exiting the bathroom just as Aunt Petunia was about to bang on the door to get me out. I walked past her and went back to the little cupboard. Curling up beside Harry, my body shook as I cried myself to sleep. I didn't get dinner that night because I had gotten in trouble the night before.

When I wake up, I can feel dried tears on my cheeks. Nothing new, I get up and have a quick shower before heading down to breakfast. Walking into the Great Hall, I look around at the Christmas decorations. Now that the holiday was approaching, the castle was getting into the festive spirit. I glumly walk past it all to where Harry and Ron are sitting. I don't speak to them, and when they try and make conversation with me I just shake my head to discourage them. I go through the rest of the day like clockwork, until I reach the last lesson of the day, Transfiguration. Knowing McGonagall will ask questions if I appear out of sorts, I try and pull myself together. I pay attention, mastering the new task first try, and offering small pointers to the others occasionally. Whenever McGonagall walks past, I engage in conversation with them, then stop as soon as she passes. Harry tries to get answers out of me, but I don't talk to him. When the lesson ends, McGonagall dismisses us, and I think I've gotten off the hook. But just as I am about to exit the classroom she calls me back. Stopping in my tracks, I take a breath before turning back to her. She doesn't speak until the last student is gone, then she flicks her wand to shut and lock the door. The 'click' of the door unintentionally makes me jump, as it reminds me of my dream last night. I furiously push that thought away though. Unfortunately, McGonagall notices.

"Isobel, are you alright?" she asks gently.

I immediately nod.

"I'm fine," I say.

She casts her gaze over me. I shift uncomfortably a little. McGonagall sighs.

"Okay. What's wrong?" she tries again.

I try to dissuade her, shaking my head and telling her nothing's wrong. But she just stares at me. Eventually, I give in, unable to resist her look.

"I just had a bad dream last night. Some old memories had been stirred up, so they came back to me."

McGonagall's gaze softens.

"Oh," she says. "I'm sorry Isobel. You were pushed very hard last night."

I shake my head.

"No, it's alright," I protest. "It was necessary. It's just hard to shake that feeling."

McGonagall's emerald eyes shine with pity.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asks gently.

I shake my head again.

"No, it's fine," I say. "Just talking about it helped me already. Thank you."

She smiles a little before letting me go. After that conversation, my mood lightens considerably. I apologise to the trio.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't get much sleep last night," I explain. "So, I'm a bit tired and not in a great mood. I didn't mean to brush you off before."

"It's alright," Harry says understandingly. "Just as long as nothing's wrong."

I smile and shake my head.

"I'm alright."

He smiles back at me before asking me how last night went. I stare at him a bit, confused. Then I remember he thinks I was with a different house.

"Er, okay," I lie. "I went to Hufflepuff. They didn't really do anything about it."

I figure that's most believable because the Hufflepuffs are the kindest and wouldn't ask many questions. They believe my bluff and carry on the conversation they were having before I joined them. This time, I join in, and we soon end up laughing and enjoying ourselves. I spend the night with Hermione, reading and studying library books while the other two entertained themselves. We don't speak much and end up calling it a night when our eyelids start drooping. We head up our dormitory, bidding goodnight to the boys. I fall asleep almost as soon as I draw the covers over myself, relieved when my sleep remains undisturbed.