Disclaimer: The rights to the Harry Potter series go to J.K. Rowling. All original ideas present in this belong to me.

Chapter Seven | Arguments

The days went off without interruption after my breakdown, thanks to Terra and Octavius taking the time to sit aside with me after my little incident. Both of them are absolutely fantastic people, and I now understand why they were named as one of my choices as adoptive parents. Terra is almost how I like to imagine my mother would be. Loving yet stern, and with a biting sense of humour. She finds a perfect balance between showing compassion or cracking down on her children, and her parenting is far from the overbearing method I'm familiar with that Molly Weasley practices. I swear those hugs would break a dragon's spine. Octavius is a bit of a joker and isn't normally the 'main one in charge' of the relationship, but that doesn't mean the relationship isn't equal. Octavius tends to be the one who makes the big familial decisions, and he has that fierce protective side that I was introduced to in the sitting room. According to the duelling trophies I noticed he can back up that fierce side with action.

The sleepover wasn't as terrible as I thought it would be, to be honest, it was pretty much the same as the train ride apart from the setting. We were camped out in Daphne's room wearing our pyjamas. Really. That's it. No talking about boys, no pillow fights, none of that shit that the guys in the dorm used to talk about. Either the stories I've heard about the terrors of a sleepover are greatly exaggerated, or they turn into some sort of horror show once hormones are in the mix. I'm praying that the latter isn't the case.

It's Christmas today, and for the first time I'm genuinely excited to celebrate. Sure, celebrating with Sirius at Grimmauld Place was fantastic, but the circumstances surrounding it and the whole problem with being trapped in that horrible waste of a building put a damper on the celebrations. It's hard to enjoy Christmas when you're in a prison disguised as a home and your best friend's dad is on deaths door.

Christmas with a family, even if it isn't really 'mine' is something to look forward to, and it's looking to be a white Christmas judging by the view out my window. It's snowed a bit over the last few days, but it looks like we got a decent two feet overnight. I was confused to see the garden untouched, but I'm assuming there's a stasis field left over it so that the plants don't die out during the off season. Massive redwoods surround the gardens cloaked in snow, their branches bowed under the weight and occasionally snapping and shuffling as the powder slides off to the ground below. It's an incredible sight, rivaling that of a Hogwarts Christmas.

A bang alerts me to my door suddenly flying open, the blonde flash that is Astoria flying into the room, leaping onto my bed and screaming for all the world to hear, "It's Christmas!"

I laugh at her antics, deciding to have a bit of fun with her. "Really? I thought it was Easter? Oh no! That means I forgot to get you a present!" I gasp, staring at her in mock horror.

"No!" She yelps, collapsing to the bed dramatically, clutching at her heart. "If I don't get any presents. I… I'll die!" She gargles pitifully, one hand reaching up to the sky, grasping at nothing. Little actress in training that one is.

"Oh, that's all? I'm sure Daphne would give me a prize for getting rid of you."

"You're evil," she says, snapping her head up and glaring at me, cheeks puffed out angrily.

"No, you're evil. I never knew brushing hair could be a form of torture until I met you, I think you'd scare off a dementor if you ran at it with a brush," I retort, chuckling at her offended expression.

"It's not my fault you never brush your hair, mum would have had to cut it all off if you let it knot any more," she shoots back, jumping off my bed and waving her arms back and forth excitedly. I guess regularly brushing my hair is one of those girl things I've got to learn. My hair is less temperamental than it used to be, but I actually have to take care of it now. One step forward, two steps back.

Astoria races forward, grabbing onto my hand and stampeding toward the stairs, leading me down to the sitting room where we find the rest of the family waiting on us. Wow, did I sleep in? The Dursleys beat military hours into me, so I never normally wake up past six in the morning.

"Alright Astoria, calm down," Terra chides playfully, pulling her youngest daughter into a quick hug, Astoria squealing in embarrassment as she kisses her forehead.

"But Mum! It's Christmas!"

"And the day isn't going anywhere honey. Where are we starting?" Terra asks, turning towards Octavius. "Oldest or youngest?"

Astoria and Octavius cry out their answers in unison, "Oldest!", "Youngest!"

"Hey!" They both shout. I look on in wonder as they stare each other down menacingly, inching closer and closer like wild dogs. I think I can hear them growling. Octavius blinks, and Astoria whoops loudly, jumping up and punching the air excitedly.

"Yes! Take that! I win today!" She cheers, laughing in her dad's face. Octavius pouts childishly, looking towards his wife to back him up.

"Honey," he calls, tilting his head to the side and doing his best to look like an overgrown puppy.

"Yes dear?"

"Let me go first."

"Or what?"

"When I get into bed I'll put cooling charms on my feet."

"You wouldn't dare," she growls, eyes narrowed.

"I would," he hesitates, looking very unsure of himself.

After another staring contest between Terra and Octavius, he huffs and grabs a present for Astoria, mumbling about traitors as he passes it over to her, while Daphne and Tracey giggle openly at him. I feel a bit bad for him. Poor guy is outnumbered four to two… no. Five to one. Four months and I'm still not used to this. Funny how its taking me forever to adjust, even though I feel better. Odd how the brain works.

Astoria tears into her gift like a wild animal, wrapping paper flying around the room like the way an antelope's innards would fly as a lion devours it. I put a quick stop to that train of thought when bits and pieces of wrapping paper get stuck in my hair, feeling a touch squeamish to compare the decorative parchment to viscera. Astoria squeals, leaping onto Octavius and wrapping her arms around him before flying at Terra and hugging the life out of her as well. Wow, that's a more aggressive hug than Hermione and Miss Weasley's put together. I'm surprised Octavius' head didn't pop off like a stuffed animal.

"Thank you so much Daddy!" She shouts, excitedly showing off her new Nimbus 2000, Tracey oohing and aahing over the broom while Daphne simply smiles at her sister. I guess I know who the Quidditch fans are in the family.

We take turns unwrapping our gifts, everyone going for the bigger or more expensive looking ones first. Daphne was beaming when she pulled out a pair of silver earrings inset with small emeralds, raving about how well they would pair with her school robes. Tracey squeals in excitement, pulling Octavius and Terra into another aggressive hug when she unwrapped her own new broom, her and Astoria chomping at the bit to get out and fly around on their new toys. Terra receives a lovely blue satin dress from Octavius, as well as a reservation to an upscale magical restaurant in Paris, scheduled for the night when we get sent back to Hogwarts. Octavius in turn receives a few pairs of extremely garish socks, the most notable being a neon pink pair with images of Saint Nick puttering around on his sleigh, laughing when he notices season tickets to the Balleycastle Bats tucked into one of them.

I sit back throughout this, watching everyone going through their gifts, their eyes lighting up at the sentimental presents, frowning in confusion at the joke gifts, followed by laughter once they realized what it was. Eventually it came to me to open up my gifts, even though I'd been putting it off to watch the rest of the family enjoy their day. I grin and pull Daphne and Tracey into a rough embrace, them having gotten me a top of the line broom servicing kit, and Astoria providing me with a stash of candy. Octavius and Terra, they went above and beyond.

Terra looks at Octavius, nodding knowingly and pulling out a small folder from behind her back. "Helene, after talking with Octavius we decided to give you something a bit more unconventional for Christmas," Terra starts, glancing over at her husband again.

"Please forgive us if we're being presumptuous, but after our discussion on your first day here I went to the Ministry and raised hell." Octavius laughs as Terra smacks him on the arm. "Owch! Okay, I almost burnt the place to the ground," he confesses, rubbing his arm sheepishly. He turns back to me, a growing smile on his face. "What we were wanting to know, is whether you would like for us to be your guardians… it's not exactly what your parents hoped for, but we'd like you to be part of our ragtag little team." He hands the folder over to me, and I take it with shaking hands.

Holy shit.

"Language Helene!"

"Sorry!" I shout reflexively, staring in awe at the folder in front of me.

Christ on a pogo stick! They just handed me adoption papers! Adoption. Papers. For me. They want me!? "Oh god, I better not break down again," I whisper to myself, blinking awkwardly. "But why? Y- You barely know me," I murmur hoarsely, addressing Octavius and Terra. Damnit, here comes the waterworks. "I- I… I don't know what to say… what about my headship? I thought we were going to Gringotts soon?"

Octavius leans over and puts his hand on my shoulder. "This isn't going to change that. You'll still be a Potter. This'll allow you to officially be a part of the family, our family, even if you've got a different last name. I also think that us barely knowing you is one of the main reasons Helene." A flash of anger crosses his features, although it's quickly washed away by a flood of compassion. "We were supposed to know you, we were supposed to have a third daughter." He pulls his hand back and looks me in the eyes. "You don't have to answer now, I know you may have someone else that you're hoping to be your guardian, but if you ever feel like joining the family, all you have to do is sign."

Sobbing, I rush over and grab onto Octavius, hugging him with all my might as he falls back in shock before returning the hug, rubbing small circles into my back. "I don't know if I can answer you now," I croak, wiping the tears away with my shirt sleeve. "But… I'm so happy to know that you guys care. This is the best present I've ever gotten."

"That's all that matters to us Helene," Terra hums, smiling at the scene in front of her. I let go of Octavius and hug her as well, but much more gently than Octavius'. "Take all the time you need, alright?"

"You're okay with this?" I quietly ask, turning towards Daphne and Astoria. Astoria grins back at me, nodding fervently. I glance towards Tracey and see her staring at the papers in my hand, looking up at me before immediately averting her eyes, looking slightly confused.

"Of course!" Daphne replies, looking offended that I would even ask her such a question. "Why would we not be okay with it? You were supposed to be my sister, so what if it happens a little late?"

Nodding in affirmation I release Terra and run up to Daphne, pulling her into another embrace, this one much more wet than before, my tears running trails down her pyjamas.

"Okay, enough with me crying," I laugh, wiping the tears from my eyes and trying to defuse the situation. "Who wants to go for a fly?"

Astoria and Tracey grab their brooms immediately, although Tracey follows at a more sedate pace as Astoria races off to go and find her shoes, not even bothering to change clothes. Groaning, Daphne gets up to follow us outside outside, Terra throwing a quick warming charm on all of us before we kick off and race each other over the manor grounds.

-::-

Octavius and I find ourselves on the steps of Gringotts. I've only been in this 'new' world for a short while, but I think I can start taking steps to change things now that I've got Octavius' support. "You ready to start the show Helene?" He smirks, looking over at me, an excited gleam in his eyes.

"Damn straight," I reply, grinning at him as we march into the bank and up to the closest open teller. "Hello, is Rockseeker busy at the moment? I'm here to speak to him regarding Potter family matters." I ask.

The Goblin looks down at me snidely for a moment before recognition crosses his face. Nodding, he motions to the back door that leads to the Gringotts offices and meeting rooms, allowing us entry. Bowing my head, I lead Octavius through to Rockseeker's office, knocking before I hear him call for us to enter.

Striding into the office with Octavius in tow we take our seats in front of Rockseeker, who's looking on at us inquisitively, reclining slightly to the side with one sharp claw resting on his cheek. "Hello Miss Potter, what brings you in today? And who is your companion, if I may ask?" he inquires.

"This is Octavius Greengrass, I'm sure you remember his name from my parents will," I state, Rockseeker nodding in acknowledgement. "I was curious if I could seek my emancipation today, as I'm the last member of a Noble and Most Ancient House I was under the assumption that being the last of my line would be enough to grant me that request."

"You do understand the risks involved in that Miss Potter, you are after all only eleven years old," he cautions, his eyes flitting over Octavius for just a moment, enough to let me understand what he means.

I give Octavius a pointed look before explaining, "Rockseeker, Octavius knows about my travels. He was the one who recommended I get the emancipation done and over with as quickly as possible so that any meddlers don't make my life any more difficult."

"Aaah," he chuckles, smiling at us in that horrendous way that only a goblin can, fangs glinting in the magical candlelight. I like Rockseeker, and he's the only goblin I don't really mind smiling, but it's still unnerving. It's just too… predatory. "That changes things. I'm assuming you're taking steps against Gamilturg?" he asks, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Who?"

"Old Beard, us Goblins little moniker for Dumbledore," Rockseeker deadpans, smiling yet again as Octavius laughs out loud, wheezing a bit at Rockseeker's bland delivery.

"That's absolutely perfect, Helene, I love your Vault Keeper," he croaks, slapping himself on the chest.

"Why thank you Lord Greengrass. Do you know what my favourite part about that name is?" he asks, cocking his eyebrows.

"No, please, do tell."

"The bastard thinks it's a compliment!" he roars, slapping the table and barking in laughter. "A bloody compliment! Like we Goblins would ever name someone like him a warrior."

Octavius of course slaps his chair repeatedly, pinching his nose and giggling in a very feminine way. I watch in amusement as two normally stern people cackle like schoolchildren. Composing himself, Octavius smooths out his robes, still chuckling quietly while Rockseeker is wearing an incredible smirk.

"Miss Potter, we at Gringotts would be happy to aid you with your emancipation, give me one moment please," he says, snapping his fingers. A minute later a Goblin rushes in with a small, plain stone box that is absolutely glowing with magic. Familial protections are nothing to scoff at I guess.

Reaching over, I go to pry open the lid of the box, but as soon as I make contact with it I feel a sting. I pull my hand back quickly and notice a small drop of blood sink into the stone, seemingly absorbed by the box.

"Blood Recognition Wards, in case you were wondering," Rockseeker explains, gesturing towards the small indent in the box. "We wouldn't want someone trying to commit line theft on a Noble house, would we not?"

"Makes sense to me," I reply, lifting the lid of the box and peering inside. A small gold ring rests on top of plush red suede, decorated with a roaring griffin on one side of a sharply cut, brightly polished ruby. A thestral in flight adorns the ring opposite the griffin, wings spread wide and wrapped around the outside of the jewelry. I tentatively reach out and take hold of the ring, sliding it on to my right middle finger where it shines for a moment and shrinks to fit, snug, yet not uncomfortable.

"May I congratulate you on your coming of age Lady Potter," Rockseeker comments, inclining his head in respect. "I think you'll also be pleased to know that the ring will detect poisons and love potions if any are near you, a precautionary measure that most Head of House jewelry contains. Line theft and assassinations were once much more common than they are now."

"Thank you very much Rockseeker, the enchantments sound fantastically useful," I echo, agreeing with him wholeheartedly. "Would you be able to send the required documents to the ministry to notify them of my coming of age when you have the chance? That, as well as naming Lord Greengrass here as my proxy for the Potter seat," I announce, smiling at a wide-eyed Octavius.

"Helene! You didn't tell me you were going to do that!" he marvels, perplexed at my decision.

"Octavius, you're the best person I know for the job right now. You've already gone out of your way to make my life better even though you don't know me, and from the research I've done over the break, I know our politics are in line judging by your own voting history," I effuse, waving away his concerns. "I think you're the perfect person for the job, seeing as Sirius is still locked away."

I reach out to shake Octavius's hand, sealing the deal. "Octavius, it's time to start making some changes, and I think you're the man for the job."

Smirking he returns the gesture, grasping my hand smoothly. "Let's shake things up kid."

-::-

The trip back to Hogwarts was teeming with bubbly and babbling students, all eager to share and revel in their holidays. My compartment was packed full of sugar first-years, making it absolutely bloody impossible to study, even with my new-found talent of occlumency. I'd spent a good portion of the hols fashioning a mindscape. Sort of like an imaginary setting, full of traps, monsters, and whatever else I can come up with to defend my secrets. Snape, of course, never told me anything about how to develop occlumency defences and instead decided to scream at me before ravaging my mind, dredging up every horrid and embarrassing memory I've ever had. Worst part is, according to my books, that's a sure-fire way to absolutely demolish any budding occlumency defences. Prick.

The chattering though, the non-stop, endless, chattering. My God do girls talk. What's even more interesting, is I'm jabbering along with them! I think it's the effects of estrogen slowly working away on my mind, awakening little bits and pieces of me that were once kept hidden. We've been discussing Christmas presents, and I just told the other girls of the gift Octavius and Terra offered me.

"They want to adopt you!? Oh my God that's amazing Helene!" Hermione gasps, clutching my arm excitedly.

"I know! It's a lot to take in, but it'll be a while before I come to a decision. It's a big step to take, you know?" I smile widely at her as she holds onto my arm for dear life, beaming like she was the orphan who just got an adoption offer.

"It is a big decision," Padma agrees, nodding her head. "What do you think about all of it Daphne? Excited to maybe have a new sister?"

"My parents told me about it a bit before Christmas, and they wanted to know what me and Tori thought before they asked Helene," Daphne replies. "I still hold to what I said, you'd make a fantastic sister Helene. It's just taken us longer than we should have to bring you into the family."

"Thank you so much," I reply, sighing in exasperation as Malfoy throws open the compartment door. Why oh why does this always happen to me?

"Hello blood-traitors, mudblood," he sneers, tilting his head and spinning his wand aggressively. "I didn't know this train was made to transport filth and rubbi-."

"Fuck off already Malfoy," I interrupt, Hermione reflexively scolding me for cursing, looking for all the world like she wants to be the one to tell him to fuck off. "Why in the name of sanity do you even bother us? Seriously, I really don't get it. The only thing I could possibly think of, is that you have a crush on one of us," I add, hoping to embarrass him into leaving. "Wouldn't your father be disappointed to find you're chasing after scum?"

"Wouldn't you like that, blood-traitor?" Malfoy sputters, his cheeks slowly reddening under a blush. Oh no. He really does have a crush on one of us. Please don't be me, please don't be me. I don't think I'd be able to handle that. I just… no.

"How dare you!" Malfoy hisses, his face screwed up in fury. Damnit! Why can't this kid just leave?

"Oh. I said that out loud, didn't I?" I whisper, looking towards Hermione who shrugs at me. Christ.

"Yes, you did Helene," Tracey adds, holding her hand in front of her mouth to stifle a laugh, her eyes lit up in glee.

"I really have to break that habit."

"Hey! I'm right here!"

"I said fuck off Malfoy!"

Waving my hand, I slam the door shut on him, his eyes almost popping out of his head as he's thrown out of the compartment. Was it immature of me to send him out that way? Was it immature of me to swear at him like that? God, I don't even know. I'm just so bloody tired of his antics.

I knead my forehead tirely. "So, enough of that git," I say, Hermione slapping me on the knee. "Hey! I'll argue that fuck- ow! Is a perfectly useful word! Really! It's one of the most versatile words in the English language!"

"It doesn't matter!" She chides, wagging her finger. "You should watch your language! Were you raised in a barn?"

"No, I was raised in a cupboard, thank you very much," I spill, slapping a hand over my mouth as I recognize what I'm saying.

"What?" Hermione whispers, immediately forgetting my abuse of four letter words.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it, just a slip of the tongue," I say, waving her off. Don't needle me about this now, please.

Hermione opens her mouth to speak but is immediately hushed by Daphne, who gives her a serious look until she clamps her jaw shut and turns to me imploringly. She hisses quietly in disappointment when I don't sate her curiosity, and pulls a copy of Hogwarts: A History out of her bag.

-::-

The meal upon returning to Hogwarts went well, and I managed to fill myself up on a massive helping of turkey and mash. I guess even Hogwarts gets Christmas leftovers. I start to head back with the rest of the students to our common rooms when Flitwick interrupts me, quietly pulling me aside.

"Miss Potter, the Headmaster was wanting to see you in his office," he says, gesturing for me to come with him. "If you would follow me, I can take you there."

Nodding, but confused, I follow Flitwick to Dumbledore's office, finding myself in the very familiar and far less distracting room. What happened to all of his little gadgets? None of them are whirring, spitting, twirling, or hissing anywhere in the room. All his knick-knacks are lying inert except for one lonesome chunk of ochre glass that occasionally pulses a deep red to some unknown rhythm. I take my seat, noticing that the headmaster has no usual twinkle in his eyes, and is looking quite grim.

"Miss Potter, my dear, where did you go over the holidays?" He quietly asks, his fingers steepled in front of him and his head bowed, an unmentioned challenge on the tip of his tongue.

I feign confusion, looking the headmaster in the eye as I reply. "I'm sorry Headmaster but I don't understand how where I went over the holidays is necessary for you to know. You're my Headmaster, not my guardian."

"The location of such is important to me when I find that your home has been burnt to the ground," he denies. "I'm curious about where you stayed, when you currently have no home to spend your time at."

Aah. I knew I forgot about something. Looking back on that, it was a bit rash of me to blow up the Dursley's home. Well, not rash. I feel they got off easy, but it wasn't exactly well thought out. "What do you mean Headmaster?"

Sighing, he leans forward, resting his elbows on the tabletop and holding his hands out imploringly. "The Dursley's home, your home, was burnt to a crisp over the summer. I visited them over the winter break when I noticed that you weren't at Hogwarts. I was surprised when they mentioned to me that they haven't seen hide nor hair of you since the fire. It's very important that you spend your time with them outside of the castle, you know how dangerous the world can be, especially for a runaway."

"Dangerous?" I reply, frowning at him. He's worried about me being in danger after putting me into that abusive hellhole? Really? "How could the world be more dangerous than living with my cousins, if that's what you're asking? Because that house is very dangerous. Not to mention the fact that they no longer have a home. Where would I stay?"

"I would easily be able to work out an arrangement with a wizarding construction company to recreate Number 4, and I have hired one," he demurs, his tone turning questioning. "But, Miss Potter, please clarify for me. You're saying that your home is dangerous? Because I must repeat myself and say that it is in fact, very safe. I put the wards up myself."

"Yes, it's unsafe. Wards or not. I'd also like to clarify that it's not a home, Headmaster. It's simply a place I lived in for the last ten years," I spit, feeling the anger build up in me. "They treated me like an indentured servant. That house was not safe."

Dumbledore narrows his eyes in confusion. "Miss Potter! It is unseemly of you to speak ill of your family! Where in Merlin's name is this attitude coming from? Is it due to spending your break with the Greengrasses?" he declares, no longer holding the tone and demeanor of a kindly grandfather, instead beginning to look and sound a lot more like the man who defeated Grindelwald. Really? You're going to intimidate an eleven-year-old? "I fear that the Greengrasses may be turning you against your own blood," he continues, vacillating between thinly disguised anger and concern.

"Unseemly of me? First off, how did you find out where I stayed over the holidays? Second, you believe the Greengrasses are turning me against my family?" I retort, frowning incredulously at Dumbledore's affirming look. "Really Headmaster? They're the least dark family I've met in my entire life! How dare you speak of my family that way? Because the Greengrasses are the closest thing I have to family!" I burst, anger brimming dangerously, threatening to spill over. I breathe deeply, trying to slow my racing thoughts. I look to Fawkes who tilts his head curiously, not so much as trilling to calm me down. Odd. You'd think Fawkes would sing just a little bit, he always tried to comfort me when I was stressed.

"The Dursleys are no family of mine, never have been, never will be," I continue, turning my head away from the phoenix, my voice strained and tremulous. "The Greengrasses have shown me more respect and love than anyone in my life ever has, and I will never consider Number 4 Privet Dive my home."

The pulsing glass chunk suddenly bursts, bits of glass shooting out across the room as Dumbledore rushes over to it, stumbling over the shards and tearing the fabric of his robes. He crouches down on one knee, scanning the remains with his wand before turning to me, fear and fury in his eyes. "Do you realize what you've just done? You just destroy the blood wards on your home! Blood wards that have protected you for your entire life!"

"Destroyed the wards? How could I have destroyed words wards without a spell? That home, as you call it? That's an abusive hell hole!" I rage shrilly, my temper flying away from me. "If your wards are so damned weak as to burst when they're so much as sneezed at, it doesn't look like they were very effective."

Unbeknownst to me, parchment starts flying around the room, carried on an invisible current. Books flip open, their pages crinkling loudly as they flutter wildly, turning over this way and that, the air around me beginning to shake and shimmer like a heat mirage. Damnit! Dumbledore must be senile to think that I was anything close to safe with those savages! Wards? Like they did anything at all! "Who gives a shit about what's outside when the danger is inside," I hiss, jabbing a finger into my palm. "Those bastards beat me almost every goddamn day! They starved me! How did you not know this was going on!?" I bark, fury consuming me. "You left me there! You're the one who never checked up on me! You're the reason those wards have fallen!"

Flicking my eyes over to Dumbledore's desk I see the invisibility cloak lying on top of it in a heap, the familiar ethereal silver flowing like a calm river, unaffected by the magic in the air. Throwing my hand out, I summon the cloak, snatching it aggressively before turning back to a furious yet shocked Dumbledore. "I'm taking my father's cloak back," I spit, his eyes widening in confusion. I point at him aggressively, jabbing my finger towards his chest. "I want you to think on what you've done, Dumbledore. You left me to an abusive family, one that starved, beat, and neglected me since I could so much as walk. You did."

I march over to the exit and move to open it, the door getting yanked off it's hinges with a simple flick of my wrist. It crashed into the wall with a might bang, the ancient wood splintering from the impact. I ignore the veritable artifact that I've just destroyed, not even glancing at its remains as I walk swiftly down the stairs and back through the castle to the Ravenclaw common room. I pass through the halls in a blur, vaguely recognizing the eagle knocker as I stride towards it. The door slams open on its own as I barge into the tower, somehow aware of my fury and allowing me to bypass the usual riddle. I continue on my path, eyes set straight ahead, not even bothering to stop and say goodnight to Hermione and Padma who are sitting by the fire, staring up at me in silent shock. I keep marching until I get to my dorm, climbing into bed, sealing the curtains shut. I pause, taking the moment to silence them for good measure.

"God fucking damnit!" I growl, banging my hands against the wall. That son of a bitch has the nerve to tell me that I'm safer at the Dursleys? Like he doesn't know what I've gone through? What he sentenced me to? Then he has the gall to go out and try and blame my behaviour on the Greengrasses? If I was eleven I probably would have just gone along with whatever he was saying, just like everyone else in this bloody school. How in the hell is Dumbledore allowed near children? Is the world so blind as to not see how he tries to turn people against each other like that? It's just like the summer after Cedric's death.

Dumbledore knows what he's doing Harry.

We can't write to you in-case Voldemort finds out, Harry.

He's just doing what's best for you Harry!

He's a great man that Dumbledore. Didja' know that Harry? Only wizard Voldemort ever feared!

This incident just makes his shortcomings even more glaring. Dumbledore is the enemy as much as Voldemort is. No wonder Voldemort fears the man! Dumbledore ruined his fucking life! Yes, Riddle is a rabid dog, someone I'm probably destined to put down thanks to that bloody prophecy… whatever the damned thing says. Dumbledore though? He's so narrowminded it's incredible. He's a danger to everyone simply because of the positions he holds.

A knocking against my bed posts gets my attention. Not that I can hear it through the silencing charm, but I can feel the reverberations in the wood. Sighing, I unseal my bed and open the drapes to see Hermione standing in front of me, a worried look on her face.

"Helene, is everything alright?" She asks, sitting down on the bed opposite me, legs crossed tidily underneath her.

"Yeah… things are alright. I just- I got into an argument… a huge argument." I exhale slowly, running my fingers through my hair as I try to calm down. No matter how mad I am, I'm not going to take it out on her. "It's something I can't really tell you about. I'm sorry Hermione. I'm alright though, okay?"

Concern still written over her features she goes to speak but stops herself, thinking better of it. Closing her mouth, she nods her head and sticks her hand out.

"Come on, Padma's saved us a seat by the fire," she says, a weak smile tugging at her lips.

After a moment I smile back, taking her hand and following her back to the warmth of the common room.

Edited, 22/05/2018.