Chapter eight: Teachers Whispered

Harry, Hermione, and I immediately went to the hospital wing after Potions to see Neville, who laid on one of the beds covered in a sticky ointment the color of cat barf. It didn't smell much different either, a near tangible odor assaulting us when we entered the room. He looked up and over at the sound of the door and smiled. His boils were nearly gone, to Madame Pomfrey's credit.

"Hey," he said quietly, speaking in a way that he hardly moved his mouth. "You guys came."

"Of course we did," Hermione told him.

"Are you okay," Harry asked, grimacing at the smell as we got closer.

Neville shrugged. "Okay, I guess. You think it smells bad now, but I promise it's worse when you're wearing it. It feels like I have bugs crawling all over me; and not the tolerable ones like beetles or lacewings."

He imagined ants, his worse fear after falling onto a large ant hill as a toddler, crawling on him in roves and I shuddered at the feeling.

"Well don't think about it," I chastised, flicking off nonexistent ants.

Neville smiled and shrugged sheepishly, sitting up and pulling his legs in so the three of us could sit on the bed with him.

"How was the rest of class? Did we miss much?"

Harry shrugged noncommittally, but based on the careful, worried glance Hermione gave him; it hadn't gone any better than the start of it. Hermione thought about the points gained and lost during the entire session, ten gained from me, and fifteen lost for Harry alone.

"He gave me another five when I grabbed mine and Neville's things," I told them. "For taking Neville to the hospital wing."

"That's stupid," Harry said heatedly. "He took five from me for breathing too loudly after he took points! What's his deal?"

After a second, Harry relaxed and apologized for snapping. "I'm sorry. I mean, he doesn't even know me and he hates me."

I didn't say so, but I liked Professor Snape from the little I'd interacted with him. Hermione was intrigued, Neville was terrified, and Harry was prepared to match hatred with hatred- but surely he was mistaken. What sort of teacher would hate a student for no reason?

"I have Occlumency lessons with him," I mentioned, in a low voice hoping it wouldn't sound like a big deal to Harry after his rant.

"What?" He asked. "That git?"

"Harry," Hermione scolded. "He's a teacher! When did he tell you?"

I nodded my head to the door. "Just now. Tonight, after dinner."

Neville spoke next. "Is he any good at it? I mean, can you hear his thoughts?"

I crossed my arms in a slight huff. "Nothing. I mean, he lowered it enough to tell me about the lessons, but I got nothing other than that. When I tried to push, it felt like I was drowning. I think I actually had water in my lungs."

Hermione's eyes widened and she pulled a book out of her book bag that she'd obviously already read a few times. "I've read about the different types of mental shields! His was water?"

"Like an ocean," I told her, moving around to read over her shoulder as she flicked through pages. "But, like in a storm. A typhoon."

She landed on one page, her finger quickly running down the words. "Really? That's supposed to be incredibly difficult."

Harry motioned to us. "If there are books, then why does she have to see Snape about it?"

"Professor Snape," Hermione and I chorused offhandedly.

"Besides," Hermione continued, ignoring Harry's annoyed expression. "The book is supposed to be in addition to being taught, not in the stead of. Occlumency is hard to learn, and just because someone wants to learn doesn't mean they can. It's nearly impossible without a master teaching you."

Neville snapped his fingers. "Professor Sealocke mentioned something like that."

"Sealocke," Hermione asked, a red stain rising on her face. "When did you see him?"

"Professor Sealocke," Harry sniped irritably.

"Be kind," I quoted what Meredith said all the time.

Harry scrunched his face up and Hermione matched it before looking back to Neville. "We saw him when we left Potions. Professor Sealocke showed us how to get here."

I nodded before picking up there. "He showed me a memory of Professor Dumbledore telling the staff about my Legilimency. He told us that he tried to learn Occlumency one time, but didn't have the talent for it."

"I told you he'd be out by dinner time!" A reprimanding voice startled us, the four of us jerking and looking to find Madame Pomfrey with her hands on her hips and a mysterious stain on her apron.

I smiled as charmingly as I could. "I didn't think you would deprive us of our friend's presence. We just thought we'd keep him company is all. Didn't want him to befriend someone else here and forget about us."

She blinked, looking at me as though she saw a ghost. Her mind moved to a memory of a group of boys crowded on a bed the way we were now, one of them saying something similar to what I'd said after Madame Pomfrey tried to make them leave. One of the boys looked like Harry. The tone of her thoughts changed as well, saddening at the memory and it was my turn to recoil as she had earlier.

"I see," she whispered. "Very well. He can leave in a few minutes anyway, after he gets that stuff off of him. If it's on too long it sticks."

We moved to let Neville get up and follow her before Hermione turned to me. "What just happened?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Have either of you heard of the Marauders?"

"Marauders? What's that?"

"I don't know," I said again. "But I think it has to do with Harry's dad."

I was on time to Professor Snape's classroom, hesitantly knocking on the open door. He didn't look up from where he sat hunched over his desk, his hair blocking his face. He wasn't at dinner, but Miss Elora was. She sent a smile at me while talking to Professor McGonagall. Fred and George were also at dinner, listening to our Potions tale with sympathy- and only slightly exaggerated.

"Well, don't just stand there, skulking about doorways. Enter."

I stepped into the classroom, looking around at how clean it looked without students. It was dark, and cold, and creepy. He still didn't look up, his exceptionally flouncy quill moving furiously as he wrote.

"You'll cripple yourself," I said quietly.

He stopped, glancing up. "Excuse me?"

I grabbed the end of my hair behind my back and fiddled with it. "It's just something Meredith says when I sit like that. She says it's bad for your back."

Professor Snape set his quill down and gave me his full attention. "You do that? Lean over your work, I mean?"

"All the time. Meredith tried to break me of it once, putting books on my head like her mom did to her, but it didn't work." I laughed a little. "After she gave up, Meredith admitted it never worked on her either."

He almost smiled, but it was like he caught himself before he could. He stood up and cleared his throat. "Well, let's get this over with."

I nodded, squaring my shoulders the way Harry said I do when I'm determined about something. "Okay. Where do we start?"

"Well, to start, what does Occlumency do?"

"It can help me close my mind so I only hear my own thoughts and not everyone else."

He nodded his head to acknowledge my answer, but it was apparently wrong. "That is true, but that's not what it was made for. Legilimency is rarely gifted naturally to someone. Usually, it requires control over one's own mind and eye contact to attempt to get inside someone else's. Theoretically, anyone can do it if they have the right mindset and determination. Occlumency is the defense against it. It allows someone to shield their mind from being trespassed, and if the person is skilled enough, can compartmentalize emotions and physical pain."

Professor Snape paused a moment before explaining in a more simplified way. "Say you're hurt, utilizing Occlumency can contain the pain you feel and minimize it so that you might be able to think more clearly than if you couldn't. You could calm yourself down from a panic, hide memories from others that you might not want them to see, et cetera."

"I never thought about people being able to get in my head," I admitted quietly.

"Having the natural Legilimency you do, it will be easier for you to learn Occlumency and perhaps nonverbal magic at a later time, but it does not exempt you from other Legilimens."

"So what do I do? How do I make a shield?"

He leaned against a table, almost sitting on it. "It can be a lot of things. Many people use something elemental."

I perked up. "Like your ocean."

He nodded. "Yes, like my ocean."

"I felt like I was going to drown for real," I told him.

"You might have," he replied. "Had you kept trying, and had I let you, you might have drowned. You felt like you were choking on water, did you?"

I nodded, my hand going to my throat where I could still feel it. He didn't apologize, the way perhaps anyone else might have, but I didn't expect him to.

"Some wizards might use fire," he continued conversationally. "In which one might experience real burns, perhaps air wherein one might suffocate. Depending on the power of a witch or wizard's magic, mental or otherwise, the offender could get lost and die or lose their mind from trying to steal into another's."

I suddenly didn't like the idea, imagining eavesdropping on someone and suddenly dropping to the floor dead because I accidentally got caught in a whirlwind or something. My hand, that had dropped a few moments ago, found the end of my hair again. Professor Snape noticed, with an odd look, but said nothing.

"Well," I said after a few moments. "Where would you suggest I start?"

He made an 'ah' expression as though he'd been waiting/hoping for this question. "I was hoping you weren't too Gryffindor to ask that."

"Slytherin, actually," I corrected, quickly explaining further at his expression- tight and surprised. The kind Meredith got when I interrupted her and she was already irritated. "A Gryffindor would expect help because they would have offered their own, but a Slytherin would be too proud and private to ask help; particularly when it was about such a personal subject that the other person could take advantage."

Professor Snape's eyebrows rose and he blinked in mild, bored surprise. "I stand corrected then. To answer your question, though, I would suggest you start where I did. No one starts with elements, it's too hard to control. I started with a song."

It was my turn to be surprised. "A song?"

"Preferably an annoying, repetitive song. Once you're strong enough, you can use it to trap anyone wishing to get inside your head much like you would use an element. They'll get lost in it, and the more repetitive, the better. Many of those learning Occlumency don't stop using a song, choosing instead to strengthen or switch song to be more successful."

I imagined the words of a song, a Billy Joel song that was always stuck in my head, in an actual circle- spinning with my thoughts hidden in the center.

"Where?" He asked, eavesdropping in my mind.

I frowned. "You said it was rude to do that."

"Turnabout's fair play, besides, I'm teaching."

I huffed a little bit, but it only seemed to further amuse him. "What do you mean where?"

"Where in the center are your thoughts? Are you just keeping them free in the center to be found once someone gets through the song?"

I imagined a box, with a lock.

Professor Snape scoffed. "Dull."

"Well, sir, it's a bit difficult to defend against something when I don't even know what to expect."

He tilted his head to the side. "It would be irresponsible to barge into your mind the way you mean, without you being more prepared."

"It-it wouldn't hurt, would it," I asked in a small voice.

Another of Professor Snape's odd expressions found his face, his eyes soft and narrowed under somewhat burrowed eyebrows, and he spoke slowly as if dazed. "No. I'll make sure it doesn't."

I relaxed, readying myself again.

"Put up walls around your song," he said with authority, pulling his wand out from his sleeve. "I should have to break it down before finding Piano Man, and I should have to work hard to get to your mind after the song. Your mind should consist of layers of security. Are you ready?"

I closed my eyes and brought up walls, large concrete ones surrounding my song. Perhaps not a locked box. Maybe... a chest? Like buried treasure. I opened my eyes and nodded. "I'm ready."

"Legilimens."

The classroom swirled and vanished. It was ridiculous how easily he came through my defenses. I fought, trying to pull them back up, but stopped when I saw the classroom being replaced with home, springtime with the roses in bloom and Meredith's garden taking up an alarming amount of the property. It never looked prettier than in the spring. I remembered this, turning to find myself walking down the path with Meredith carrying pies for Mrs. Addington down the road. Each of us had flour on our clothes and grins on our faces. This was the day I dropped mine, the apple, and the ants loved us for it. I'd expected Meredith to be upset as we'd spent the entire day making them, and the day before collecting the apples for it. She'd only laughed, telling me that accidents happened. That that was what made life wonderful- her mind on her own mother who'd have had a fit in the same circumstance.

The scene changed and it was Christmas, our first Christmas with Harry, and the two of us were sitting under the tree; torn and ripped wrapping paper surrounding us while we listened to Meredith tell us about holidays in the Wizarding World. Thinking about Harry changed the image to our first meeting before Professor Snape pulled out of my mind and the classroom was there again- only spinning just slightly.

"You let me get too far," he told me sternly, his arms steadying me.

"It happened too fast," I complained. "I couldn't focus."

"Learn to," he said. "Practice. Not all the time, but every day. Before bed. Think about where you went wrong, and fix it. Your walls are too weak, your song too slow, and your chest easy to break into."

Meredith would be disappointed.

"Now, go back to your common room," he told me. "Come back Tuesday, same time, and we'll do this every week on these two days until I feel you're done."

I nodded, trying not to think about Meredith- tears stinging my eyes and heating my face. I tried to stop it, holding my breath so it wouldn't become obvious that I was being so emotional. But I didn't succeed, looking over to find Professor Snape offering me a handkerchief with delicate dark green embroidering.

"Chin up," he said in what seemed an uncharacteristically soft voice. "I didn't expect you to get it the first time. Tell you the truth, it took me half a year to be able to defend my mind even marginally well. I doubt it will take you so long, but keep in mind that letting go of emotions enough to learn and practice Occlumency can be incredibly difficult; particularly at such a young age."

"Thank you, sir."

"Run along. I'm sure your friends think I've made you into potions ingredients by now."

That brought a smile and I left, cementing in my mind even further that I liked him.

"Hiya, Hagrid," I greeted when the large man opened his door Saturday morning.

His face appeared around the corner of the door that he'd opened as little as possible while holding back a droopy faced boar hound. He didn't seem terribly vicious when the four of us entered, the dog, I mean; only curious and very excited at the prospect of new people. Once we were in, sat down at Hagrid's insistence and direction, he let go of Fang and the dog ran at us- licking my face furiously.

Hagrid came over and grabbed him by the collar again, pulling him off and tossing him a rock cake; from which the poor dog ran rather than ate. Hagrid shook his head and sat down with us.

"Sorry 'bout that. He gets excited easily, with only me around."

"That's alright," I said quickly, petting Fang's head. "I hope you don't mind Harry and I bringing our friends. This is Hermione and Neville."

"Longbottom, right?" Hagrid asked. Neville affirmed it. "You look like yer dad. I never forget a face."

I perked up at that, but decided he'd probably have already mentioned me if I reminded him of anyone. His mind, that I couldn't resist peeking in again, was shrouded and hard to decipher. I only felt the tone of the thoughts rather than actual thoughts themselves. He was happy to have company.

"How did your first lesson with her go?" She asked as they strolled, walking together as they often did.

"She is a natural," he confessed. "While she has a decent amount of work to do, I do believe that she'll be strong enough to even shove out your father."

"And keep out of others' thoughts?" Elora pressed gently, reminding him of the actual purpose of doing it.

He nodded, glancing down at his shoes for a moment. "I cannot control how she uses it on her own, Elora, you know this. However, yes. If she chooses to leave other people's thoughts alone, she should have no issue doing so."

Her arm was looped into his as they walked, down the corridor towards dinner. Her charm had students they passed smiling at her, but his usual hostility had them too afraid to approach. She smiled back.

"Must you frighten them so? Yes, we know you're fierce and formidable. You needn't remind us, Sev."

Severus tsked harshly at her, glancing around. "It was you who told me her discovery of my name."

She didn't say anything and he knew part of her wanted the girl to figure it out, so they wouldn't have to keep so far away. He did too, but as he'd told her guardian eleven years ago, his identity would put her in danger. So would Elora's. He told her this again.

"No more than being friends with James' son will endanger her. Do you really think we can keep it from her forever? She's intelligent, and her friends will all be legends someday, they'll figure it out on their own."

"Then let them do it, but without your assistance because you want to be a mother." She was silent and he felt like a pillock, stopping to face her. "I apologize. You're right, they will figure out one day who her parentage is and our story. But for now, let them focus on your father's tests. They'll need to, rather than be torn because they overheard something they weren't meant to."

"Good evening," a smooth voice said in the otherwise empty corridor. Sealocke stopped next to them, an arrogant expression ever present on his face. "I don't mean to interrupt, but they're about to come in from seeing Hagrid and if they see you now; well I'm afraid they'll get the wrong idea."

Severus glared and opened his mouth to say something cutting, but Elora lightly tapped him to direct his attention to the students in question. The girl saw the three of them and directed her friends towards them, her face lit up.

"Hello, Miss Elora. I haven't seen you since the summer."

On cue, Elora adopted her famous shining smile. "Good evening, Miss Lilia. I do apologize, but I have had much to do with Professor McGonagall and the headmaster. We'll have to have tea some time."

The young Potter boy glared at him, though it was unlikely he realized he was doing so. No tact, no subtly, just like his father.

"This is our friend, Hermione Granger," the girl said, eagerly wanting to keep Elora's attention, but Elora only kept smiling.

"How do you do, Miss Granger?" Elora greeted, holding her hand out to shake.

Miss Granger glanced at her friend curiously, obviously having picked up on the strange change to her personality with Elora in presence. "Very well, thank you."

"Well," Sealocke interrupted. "Excuse us, children, but we must be off. We'll see you at supper."

Severus glared offhanded at him. Another one with absolutely no tact or subtly.

"Why is it she uses your first name, but no one else'?" Hermione asked in a whisper once we were sat at the Gryffindor table.

I had been looking at the High Table, as it was becoming habit for me to do, as Professors Sealocke and Snape were arguing with Miss Elora being an amused mediator. I was staring until Neville nudged me and nodded towards Hermione when I turned back around. She was obviously waiting for an answer.

"What?" I asked.

"Miss Elora called me Miss Granger when you introduced me," she said. "But called you Miss Lilia, why?"

I frowned, glancing at Miss Elora. "I don't know. Maybe it slipped?"

Harry groaned and I looked at something behind me. It was Malfoy, I could see through Harry's eyes- giving me the very same glare he'd given me Friday during class.

"What do you want?" Neville asked bravely, his chest puffed out at Malfoy's presence.

Malfoy's pinched face scowled at him, but didn't respond as his thoughts were focused on me with intense hatred. The scene of Potions class prayed on his mind, Professor Snape giving me house points, and Malfoy overhearing the teachers whispering about my lessons with him- the exact subject a secret. The confidentiality only seemed to further fuel his anger.

"Why does Professor Snape seem to care about you, Sterling?" He asked, his voice like trembling stone. "What could he possibly want with a silly girl like you?"

I bristled at being called a silly girl, ignoring the fact that he was blinded by jealousy that I didn't understand. I twisted my own face at him, my shoulders squared. "Maybe it's because I smell a sight better than you."

Actually, Malfoy smelled good, particularly better than Harry did sometimes, but my comment hit its mark. Before either of said anything else, though there was a snappy comeback already waiting on his tongue, Harry spoke up- feeling a strange urge to have Malfoy's attention.

"Leave her alone," he demanded in a dark voice.

"I don't think I will, Potter," Malfoy spat. "You see, Sterling here needs to learn how to respect her superiors."

"I hope you don't mean yourself," Hermione quipped.

"How dare you speak to me at all, you filthy mudblood."

He said it to get a rise of everyone, and succeeded. Half the table heard the 'M' word and started shouting. Fred and George, the latter most especially, went red and looked as though they might crawl over the table- calling out their own insults. But none as bad as the one Malfoy spouted. I shot out of my seat, wand in hand as I had on the train, the wood of my wand digging into the side of his neck; eliciting a whimper I took sick pleasure in hearing Malfoy make.

"What is going on here?" A silvery voice asked, light and airy as the woman belonging to it approached us. Miss Elora.

Malfoy smirked, obviously expecting me to move away with her there- and until I saw the smugness on his face I was tempted.

"Lilia," she said softly, "Please let Mr. Malfoy go."

I did, slowly and itching to use the wand in my hand that warmed in response to my temper loss. Professor Snape was right behind Miss Elora, and all at once everyone began talking.

"Be still," Professor Snape commanded sharply. "You, Mr. Weasley, what happened?"

He had pointed at Fred, but it was George that answered, glaring at Malfoy with at least as much heat as the Slytherin had used in his glare at me. "Malfoy came over to cause Lilia trouble, and he called Hermione a mudblood."

And the repeat of the word, the entire table began their upset again before Miss Elora shushed them gently, glancing with some worry at Professor Snape's reaction to it. Professor Snape faced Malfoy, who expected to get away with it easily as he was his godfather.

"Is this true?" He asked in a dangerously low voice.

Malfoy tilted his nose up and sniffed. "Can you tell me I was wrong?"

Professor Snape's face darkened. "I had better not ever hear of that word passing your lips again, Mr. Malfoy, or I can guarantee you won't have the ability to speak at all. Do you understand me? Fifty points from Slytherin, and detention with Mr. Filch for the next week. Should it happen again, I'll make it a hundred and a month. Am. I. Clear?"

The roaring fire of anger and jealousy in Malfoy's mind ignited again, at Professor Snape taking our side. He swallowed and tightened his jaw the way Harry did when he was angry and about to cry at the same time. "Yes, sir."

Miss Elora and Professor Snape shared a look before the former smiled at me, leaving the table to go back to her own. I watched her go until she was explaining the scene to Professor McGonagall, who then glanced towards me and I had another feeling of people keeping secrets.

Flower,

Don't fret over not doing well in Occlumency lessons right off. If your Professor Snape says you are doing well for the start, then I find myself inclined to believe him. All I can ask of you is your best, and if you promise me that's what you're giving, I won't say another word on the matter so long as you're practicing. I've thought of getting a book on the subject for myself, to help as much as I can, but I admit to some hesitation on going back to Diagon Alley without cause.

Your friends sound wonderful. Hermione definitely seems to have a good head on her shoulder, and I already approve immensely of Neville. Those twins, however, had better not be getting you and Harry into any trouble. I won't hesitate to scold you both, and I'm sure there would be more than enough mothers in Diagon Alley willing to help me send a howler.

Christmas can't possibly come soon enough, and I've been so thoroughly bored that I've even cleaned the spare room! On a side note, I found your bicycle. I've also thought about going out and looking for a job. I haven't worked since we left the orphanage, and I haven't needed or wanted to with raising you, but with you gone for the majority of the year I've thought it might give me something better to do with my time than pine. Mrs. Addington has made mention that her son runs the general store in town and that he might hire me.

I miss you very much, flower. I love you more than snickerdoodles

Your Meredith

"Come on," Fred whispered loudly, guiding the four of us through the dark corridor.

"It's after curfew," Hermione reminded everyone. "We're going to get in trouble."

George ruffled her already mussed hair. "You've got to learn to trust me, pigeon. I won't let you get in any trouble. You're perfectly safe with us."

"Safe!" She echoed sharply, "You're taking us to the third-floor corridor. It's forbidden! You heard what Professor Dumbledore said-"

"Die a most painful death?" Fred quoted. "They wouldn't keep anything so dangerous in a school, Granger. Wisen up."

Hermione looked entirely affronted at the notion, recoiling with wide eyes and a gaping mouth as though he'd just said suggested we go play with the squid in the lake, but she said nothing else. Her mind was buzzing madly as she debated whether Fred had a point or not, and just what spells she knew that could possibly aide against whatever might possibly be waiting for us.

I'll admit, the idea of going to the only explicitly forbidden area of the castle gave me pause, and it definitely wasn't what I thought they meant when they interrupted our homework session in the common room and asked us if we want to have an adventure. I hadn't been listening to their thoughts, trying to ignore until I got better in my lessons with Professor Snape. So far we'd had four, but the only thing it seemed to do was show me four ways I was doing something wrong.

"Come on, Hermione," I persuaded gently. "We'll be fine. I know you're just as curious as we are, you're just upset you didn't have time to plan."

She sighed and looked away from everyone with pursed lips- Hermione's way of saying I was right and she didn't like it. Fred was trying to think of which staircase to take, asking George his opinion through their mental bond before we followed them up the staircase on the right.

"It's not a bad idea to be cautious, though," Harry defended casually. His eyes were focused on the long shadows the lanterns made along the corridor, only some of them shifting as we came closer. He kept expecting someone or something to step out from them, watching them carefully as we passed.

"We're not going to get caught by a teacher, are we?" Neville asked, looking around almost as nervously as Harry.

"Nah," Fred said bemusedly. "There aren't any teachers in this area of the castle, and we can charm any of the teachers on patrol tonight. Unless, of course, Professor Snape decides he can't sleep."

George chuckled, nudging Harry and I each with an elbow. "Wouldn't that be a sight? His favorite and least favorite students getting in trouble together. Will he submit to the random hatred of Harry or the charms of our Lilia?"

Everyone else laughed along, the sounds dying down as the six of us stopped just outside of a door- the one we were out so late to explore. It didn't look any different than any other door in the castle; the wood of it no more foreboding that could possibly explain the sense of pause looking at it gave each of us.

Fred and George even stopped, their minds thinking that perhaps they should have looked further into what could be on the other side before running head first into possible trouble. Their hesitation only lasted a second before their grins were back and they were stepping forward to open the door. The very locked door.

"Well," Neville said, hearing the lock keep the door from opening. "It's locked, let's go back to the tower."

There was a clatter down the stairs we'd just ascended and a scratchy voice everyone in Hogwarts knew well and loathed just as wholly. Filch. "Bloody cat! You leave Mrs. Norris alone!"

Next came a series of hisses, like a fight between cats, and a small thing came barreling around the corner towards us. It jumped at me and I instinctively held my arms out to catch whatever it was.

"Rosabella?!" I asked incredulously. She glanced up at me as though she were in trouble and needed me to protect her.

"Is that students I hear?" Filch's voice asked aloud in a gleeful tone. Then louder. "Is that students out of bed?!"

Hermione shoved past Fred and George, who were still thinking about Filch and his huffing as he ran to find us. She pulled out her wand and whispered in a sharp, hurried panic. "Alohamora!"

Hermione wrenched the door open with considerable force and pulled George into the dark room. Fred ushered Neville, Harry and I into the room after them; closing the door after him. We heard Filch's wheezing through the door over our own anxious, uneven breathing; the six of us huddled together at the door listening to his boots on the stone floor. George grabbed the door handle on our side as Filch grabbed it from the other side, and held it in place as Filch tried to open it. For a moment they both pulled, and Filch gave up- thinking it to still be locked- and everyone sighed a breath of relief. Even Rosabelle.

Until we heard a low growl behind us.

A/N: So... I finally got my computer back! That's the good news. The bad news is, I lost one of the stories that people are asking about. So, if anyone has any interest in Letters to No One- I am putting it up for adoption. I'm still going to continue Afterglow, I just need to finish the chapter I am currently working on.

I'm super excited about this story, thinking about all the things I'm planning for it. If anyone wants to know these plans, I always offer to tell them ahead of time or take suggestions if I haven't thought about it. Rest assured, it's still Harry's story- this is just Lilia's point of view. I really hope everyone likes it.

I forgot to mention, and someone mentioned this, at the Sorting Feast Lilia only felt Harry's pain because of her Legilimency. She was privy to his mind, and as his scar's pain is sort of to do with his mind, I sort of liked the idea. I have decided on all of the pairings, aside from Fred, and am very excited on that front. Please let me know what you think. Sorry for rambling...

Mia