The Quidditch match held a tragic end. Harry was badly wounded, nearly giving Melanie a heart attack when he fell off his broom. He was immediately sent to madam Pomfrey's. Out cold, Harry was awoken to the voice of an all-too-familiar red head, eyes still shut as he listened in. "Looks a bit peaky, doesn't he?" Ron asks. Melanie, from Harry's bedside, his hand in hers, rolls her eyes at the comment. Fred arches an eyebrow at Ron.
"Peaky? What'd you expect him to look like? He fell fifty feet." He says.
"Yeah, c'mon, Ron. We'll walk you off the Astronomy tower and see how you come out looking." George jokingly suggests, Ron shooting him a dirty look.
"Probably a right sight better than he normally does." Harry pokes in, making the crowd gasp. He hesitantly opens his eyes, his friends slowly coming to focus.
"Harry!" Hermione exclaims.
"How're you feeling?" Melanie asks from beside him. She squeezes his hand securely, as if it would stop him from fainting again. He smiles at her.
"Brilliant." He replies sarcastically, attempting to sit up straight, Melanie and Ron helping him.
"Gave us a right good scare there, mate." Fred says with a genuine smile.

Harry asks about the match and Hermione assures it wasn't his fault. They tell him about the Dementors Dumbledore sent away, and what was made of his Nimbus broom when it fell into the Whomping Willow. He was more than upset and Melanie did what she could to comfort him, but there was only so much she could do.

...

Weeks pass. Classes go by smoothly, nothing new about Black, and everything is uncommonly well in Hogwarts. Winter's here and the day had come for the students' second Hogsmead visit, Harry to be left behind once more. Melanie attempted to stay again, but Harry had put up a bigger fight than he'd done last time, forcing her, kindly, to carry on without him.

At Hogsmead, the three friends: Melanie, Ron, and Hermione, split up after a quick visit to the Leaky Cauldron, each headed in their own direction. Ron and Hermione run into each other by the Shrieking Shack, discussing it, sharing an awkward moment before they were interrupted by Malfoy.

Moments later, Melanie spots them and, from afar, picks up on the conversation. "…shopping for your dream house?" Draco asked Ron. "Seems a bit grand for you, Weasel-Bee. Don't your family all sleep in one room?" Him, Crabbe, Goyle and Pike laugh tauntingly. Melanie sighs. He just never stops.
"Shut your mouth, Malfoy." Ron spat.
"Now that's not very friendly." Melanie knew this would end badly. Ron was beyond outnumbered, he'd be beaten to a pole, but not if she had anything to do about it. "Boys, I think we're going to have to teach Weasel-Bee to respect his superiors." He retorts. Hermione chuckles harshly.
"Hope you don't mean yourself." Draco turns to her with disgust.
"How dare you speak to me?! You filthy, little mu"- Melanie doesn't give him the chance to finish, chucking him with a snowball at the back of his head.

Draco, being caught off guard, widens his eyes. He hears laughter and spins to his attacker. Redwing. As soon as she sees him, she doubles over. "You…should see…your face" She says between her laughter. He was furious. She was laughing at him. At. Him.
"Think it's funny, don't you, Redwing? Let's see how you like this!" He bends down and piles up snow in his own hands, she's too distracted to notice, but succeeds in evading when he throws her with a snowball of his own.
"That all you've got, Malfoy?" She yells, grinning from behind a tree.
"Get her!" He commands his goons. They walk towards the tree, but, all of a sudden, Goyle was hit by another snowball from the side. He looks, but no one's there, Crabbe and Pike get hit next. They can't see their attacker, and the hits keep coming, aimed only at all four, bullying Slytherins. Melanie comes out from hiding to watch the bizarre situation, which was beyond hilarious.

She just stands there, opposite her friends, who are laughing as hard as she is. They weren't sure what was going on, but they enjoyed it to the fullest. The four bullies eventually scurry away in fear, and the others come to stand in the middle, watching them run.

Then they notice Ron's hat, hovering over his head. Ron looks at it warily, the girls giggling and pointing. "Harry…" Hermione warns jokingly. Sure enough, the Invisibility Cloak drops, revealing a grinning Harry.
"Yeah!" Melanie engulfs him in a bone-crushing hug out of excitement of his presence with them, and the previous events.
"That was brilliant, Harry!" Ron exclaims.

The rest of the day was as fun as can be. Harry had disguised himself using Hermione's scarf, and Ron's hat. Harry told them about the Marauder's map Fred and George had given to him, explaining that was how he got to the village. They show him around, joking about the places they've been to and the people they've met.

Soon enough, they spot Cornelius Fudge, the minister of the Ministry of Magic. Harry, hearing his name uttered, followed Fudge into the Three Broomsticks under the shade of his cloak. Harry soon exits the pub and his friends follow his footprints to the end of a rocky outcrop. The prints vanish near a small rock and sobs start emitting from its direction, Harry's.

Melanie's heart aches with every sob. She takes a step in his direction, Ron getting hold of her arm, advising against evading Harry's space, but Melanie of all people, knew exactly when someone needed space, and when one needed comfort.

She takes soft steps towards the sobs, tears glistering her own eyes for how hurt her friend sounded. Once there, she kneels beside the stone and, cautiously, pulls down the cloak, revealing a red-eyed, cheek-drenched Harry. Melanie's heart squeezed itself in her chest. "He was their friend!" Harry yells, gasping for air. "And he betrayed them." He turns to Melanie, who, after seeing the look on his face, instantly pulls him into her arms.

He grips the back of her coat and sobs harder, letting it out. She tightens her hold and shuts her eyes, as if to absorb his pain, tears rolling down her own cheeks. "He was their friend." He whispered in sorrow.
"I'm so sorry, Harry." Melanie says.

A moment later, Harry pulls out of the hug, much calmer, but only because his hurt had been replaced by a burning, vengeful rage.

….

After their return, the four friends seemed much duller, especially Harry, but he'd told them about Lupin agreeing to train him to defend himself against Dementors and, after some of the day had passed, he was off doing just that. Hermione had retired to the dorms, something about burning the midnight oil, and Ron was out with his brothers doing who knows what. Melanie, on the other hand, lingered about the library, seated by a window, watching the snow wash down on Hogwarts's grounds, trying to pull her thoughts together and smooth out the stress of the day.

"Redwing!" Someone yells, followed by a charade of angry shushing. Melanie turns to see a wrathful Draco coming her way, something she really didn't have the energy to deal with at that moment.
"Hello, Draco. Looking as bright as ever, I see." She commented tiredly.
"Don't you 'hello, Draco' me!" He, stopping a few feet from Melanie, yells, causing people to glare and shush him even louder, he ignores them. She widens her eyes, wondering what she did to anger the blonde.
"Is there a specific reason for your yelling in a library, Draco?" Melanie asks as calmly as possible.
"Don't play dumber than you already are, Redwing!" He whisper-yells this time. She furrows her eyebrows in confusion, then it hit her.
"Oh! Is this about the snow thing?" She asks.
"Yes it's about the 'snow thing'." He imitates, making her chuckle at how silly he looked mimicking her.
"Now come on, Draco. We were just messing around." She tries, resulting in the exact opposite of calming him down.
"You call what you made attack us out there 'messing around'!" He shouts again. People shush him furiously. "Oh shut it!" He yells at them. Melanie grabs him by the arm to stop him, apologizing to the few people present, who shot them one last warning before going back to whatever they were doing.

Draco turns back to Melanie. "Get your filthy hands off me!" He whisper-yells again. She complies, arching an eyebrow, placing one hand on her hip and pointing the other at him.
"My hands are anything but filthy, I'll have know!" She states, quite serious, and continues before he got a chance to mock that. "And you seriously haven't figured it out yet?!"
"Figure what out?" He asks irritably. She bites her tongue. He really doesn't know? She shouldn't have said anything.

Draco notices her silence. "Figure what out, Redwing?" He harshly asks. She sighs tiredly. She'd come here to rest, not get harassed by Malfoy. She hoped giving him what he wanted would get him to leave.
"It was Harry, alright? In the cloak." A look of realization comes across him, soon turning to frustration.
"Of course it was, Potter." He hisses to himself, turning to leave. Great, now he's after her friend. Harry did not need Malfoy on his plate.
"Draco, wait!" She hurries. He groans.
"What?" He spat.
"I'm the one who started it, remember? So, just, take it out on me, will you?" She says, almost desperately.

If he didn't know any better, he'd say she was covering for her boyfriend, but there was something off. "The hell's wrong with you, Redwing'?" He asked, sounding nearly concerned. Redwing never gave up easily in his opinion, so for her to do so strangely bothered him.

She examines him for a moment. She was expecting a train of mockery, or him ignoring her and leaving for Harry, but no. He stands there…worrying about her? It was hard to see, but the concern was there.

She looked to her feet and smirked at her discovery. So his heart wasn't all stone and cold. He sees her smiling and is more confused than he was before. "Oh, great. First she's mad, now she's smiling to herself like a lunatic." He says, flopping his arms down irritably, looking to the side, making her straight out laugh at the comment in agreement, and slight embarrassment.

Her laughter softened his gaze on her, not really sure what to make of her. "Do you ever make sense?" He asked, somewhat nicely.
"Only to those who really know me. But don't worry, Draco, you're moving up standards." He cocks an eyebrow. "Because, out of all the people here, you were the one to make me laugh in a time like this." She explains happily. "That means something." He didn't know what to make of that.

She puts a hand on his shoulder, but he's too mesmerized by her eyes to notice. "Goodnight, Draco." She last says before walking off, leaving a cold spot on his shoulder, the air trailing behind her smelling of flowers and…peaches?

….