Remus's head snapped to the side with the force of my slap. He immediately pressed a shocked hand to his cheek. Already, I could see the pink imprint rising where I'd struck him.

I hadn't noticed her come up. But Lily and Severus were there, standing just feet away. Lily's mouth was hanging open. Severus looked mildly shocked.

Remus turned his head slightly and looked at me. Surprise. Hurt. Confusion. Defensive anger. Before he could say or do anything in retaliation, I spun on my heel and hurried out of the Great Hall.

"Amber, wait!" Lily called, but I wasn't slowing down. I brushed past James and Sirius and Peter, who were goggling at me like I'd just sprouted a third head. Lily called for me again, more insistently, but I didn't stop until we reached the girls' bathroom. A few fourth-year girls were reapplying lip gloss. They looked up in surprise as we entered.

"Get out." Lily ordered. "...Please."

The girls gave me an appraising, haughty look, but listened to Lily. They left in procession. Lily tapped the door with her wand. "Colloportus." The door sealed locked at her incantation.

I went over to the sink and spun the brass knob. Cold water poured out of the faucet. I cupped my trembling hands under the flow and splashed my face and the back of my neck, scrubbing until every speck of make-up had washed away. Lily handed me a towel. I patted my face dry. My cheeks were pale, splotched with pink patches. My eyes stared back coldly.

I didn't regret hitting him. I didn't feel even a twinge of remorse for striking my best friend.

"I don't know what to say." Lily said quietly, spreading her hands. I noticed she had French nails for the occasion. She still had her flower in her hair.

"Well, that's a first." I retorted, bracing myself against the cold sink.

"Look, I'm sorry I pushed you so hard to come to the ball." Lily said. "I guess you weren't ready to see something like that."

I glared at her reflection in the mirror. "Don't patronize me. I knew what I was doing."

Lily folded her arms across her chest. "So, first you beat Angelina up, and then you slap Remus across the face? This isn't you, Amber."

I gazed back into my reflection, my haunted eyes. I touched a lock of slightly curly hair, thanks to Lily's cosmetic skill, and swallowed hard. "You're right."

Lily leaned against the wall. She waited patiently. I clenched my fist against the counter.

"You're not going to let me out of here until we talk, are you?"

Lily shook her head. "I'm here for the long haul, missy."

In spite of myself, I felt a small smile. Loyal Lily. I pushed away from the counter and paced around the bathroom. "I thought he had feelings for me."

"Maybe he did." Lily conceded. "But you shouldn't have been toying with his heart."

I gaped at her. "I would never do that! He's my friend!"

But Lily wasn't backing down. "Then how do you explain all of the time you spent with Locke? Remus really liked you, Amber. You hurt him by leading him on and then jumping to Sean."

I wanted to scream at her. "I didn't jump to Sean! I turned him down so that Remus could take me to the ball."

Lily went over to a fancy glass bowl and popped a yellow mint into her mouth. "You may not always realize it, but you can be very oblivious."

"So that gives Remus the right to hurt me?" I asked vehemently.

"You two deserve to be happy. Maybe that means you try with other people if you can't be more than friends. He loves you, Amber. Deeply. You can still love someone without being a couple, you know."

I wrung my wrists, trying to cope with the rush of powerful emotions coursing through me. Guilt. Confusion. Hurt. "I want him to be happy."

Lily raised a brow. "Then what was the slap for?"

I raised my eyes to her, searching her face intently. "How can he know how I feel about him, and feel the same way… and not want to be with me?"

She came over to the sofa where I sat, staring into my hands. I clenched and unclenched them. How could I be capable of such violence?

"We're young, I guess." Lily said softly. I leaned against her, closing my eyes, wishing I could be a child again, before all of these confusing hormones and changes arrived, before I lost Virginia, before I met Remus. Before. "We're still trying to figure things out."

"If he can't tell me how he feels about me, then what are we?" I asked her quietly, my heart twisting.

"I don't know." Lily replied, sighing. "Maybe he's trying to protect you."

From what? I wanted to ask. From his lycanthropy? From himself? The boys? I didn't understand.

"Just… try to forgive him." Lily advised. "Give yourself time to calm down and process. And then apologize."

I groaned. "But I don't want to."

Lily laughed. "You have to."

"Why?" I asked petulantly.

Lily pulled back slightly and looked at me. "To salvage your friendship. You've got accept that if you two aren't going to be together, then you're going to go out with other people. We're supposed to date around. That's how we find the right person."

I wanted to run from her wisdom, but a bigger part of me was drawn to it. I put my head in my hands, frustrated at my own lack of wisdom and experience. "But what if Remus is my right person?"

Lily began to braid my hair. It was strangely soothing and maternal gesture, reminding me of my mother, and how she would do the same for me when I was little. "He might be. But going out with other people might help you understand for sure."

"And we should stay friends?" I muttered through my hands.

Lily made a noise of approval. "You might not always have sunshine and rainbows, but you should always be there for each other. If you really care about someone, you don't just throw away the most important bond you have. Right?"

"That bond being…?"

Lily finished my braid. "Your friendship."

Her words sank in like rain on dry ground. I wanted to weep. Overcome with remorse and sadness, I leaned back and shut my eyes. I had cried enough tears. Buckets of them. Mostly for myself.

"You're going to be okay." Lily said consolingly. "You've been through a lot lately. It's okay to cry."

A small smile flickered across my face. "I guess we've got to grow up sometime."

Lily rose to her feet. "Want to get some ice cream? I know you know how to get into the kitchens."

I nodded. "That sounds good. Then I'd like to go drown myself in the lake."

Lily laughed. "Oh, Amber. You're so impossible." She said the counterjinx for the locked door and opened it. Standing on the other side, looking very surprised, was Angelina.

I stared back into her face for a moment. Swift anger rose automatically, but instead of letting it reign, I gave a curt nod to her. "Excuse us," I said, "I hope you have a good night."

Angelina looked stunned.

Lily led me away quickly before I could do anything else. She patted my hand proudly. "That's my girl."

The Christmas break was over quickly enough. After only two weeks home, I took the train back into Hogsmeade from Bellinghall station and tried to start fresh. Being away from Hogwarts had been cathartic. It had given me time to separate myself emotionally and physically from Remus. Though I still felt a twist of painful betrayal at the thought of him, I knew it was time to move on and relinquish my feelings to oblivion. Remus did not feel the same way I did. Granted, he cared for me, but merely as friends.

I penned him a letter as I sat in my bed, looking down from Ravenclaw Tower. I chewed on my thumbnail, agitated. How did I begin? What could I say to him? Even after two weeks, the confusing swirl of emotions made it hard to put feeling to words.

Dear Remus, I scrawled with my large brown quill. I paused and thought carefully before penning my next words. I'm sorry about how things went down at the Ball. I wish I could make things easier.

I scowled and crumpled up the parchment, casting it into the brazier in the center of the tower-room. It smoldered and burned.

Dear Remus, I tried again. I'm not sorry for what I did, because you were a foul little git. So was that little slut.

"No, I can't do that." I muttered, hurling the second draft into the embers. It was quickly consumed by fire. I crossed my legs and gazed out of the window. The grounds were covered in frosty white, the black lake a single pane of glass-like ice, shimmering in the dim winter light.

Dear Remus, I tried a third time. I'm sorry. Are we still friends? I miss you. Please write back soon.

Amber Luna Harkstone

"Good enough," I said to myself. I rolled up the parchment into a scroll and tied it with a blue ribbon. I walked the short distance to the Owlery. Soren fluttered down from his perch, resting lightly on my shoulder and holding out a leg. I attached the letter and watched him fly away. I didn't know if Remus had come back to Hogwarts yet; for all I knew, he was still in London.

My stomach cramped. I realized I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast much earlier in the day; a small chocolate-filled croissant and peach tea.

I made my way downstairs and into the Great Hall. It wasn't time for dinner; I had arrived after lunch and dinner wasn't to be served for hours yet. I made my way to the portrait of the ticklish fruit and ran a finger smoothly over the pear. It chuckled and the painting swung open. I climbed inside, careful to avoid stepping on the bare feet of the dozens of house elves. At once, five of them hurried to me, offering trays of various offerings.

"Anything vegetarian?" I asked hopefully. Two more elves came forward while another three backed away with their meat-based dishes. I selected two spring rolls and blueberry muffin and ducked back out of the kitchen. As I stood eating my food, I noticed a figure wearing black disappear around a corner and down toward the dungeons. Frowning, I swallowed the last bites of muffin and spring roll and followed.

The muffled sound of footsteps echoed in the dank, dark hall. Suits of armor stood statue-still, clutching spears and clubs. Downward the hall went, spiraling deeper under the school until the air was stale and musty. Wrinkling my nose, I made a tight turn down a small flight of stairs until the hushed sound of nearby voices made me halt. I crept closer, my heart thumping painfully in my chest as I caught sight of four figures standing just feet away in a threshold-like room. I silently backed into a nook in the wall that smelled like dust and decay. I fought the overpowering urge to sneeze by rolling my tongue back into my mouth and concentrating on anything but what I wanted to do.

"It hurts," a male voice said gruffly, "but it's done."

"Stop your whining." another said harshly. I recognized it as Logan Avery's. "You should be proud to wear that, Mulciber. It's an honor to bear that mark."

"I didn't think he'd actually give it to me." Mulciber said thoughtfully. I peeked around the corner and saw him flexing a muscular arm. His sleeve caught around his elbow and revealed a solid black shape on his inner forearm. "It didn't take long."

"Put it away!" Nott hissed. "Someone could come down and see."

"No one's coming." Mulciber said airily. "It's too early. Besides, we have Regulus patrolling for intruders."

My mouth went dry. Regulus? Sirius' little brother was patrolling? Clearly, he hadn't been doing his job, because here I was, eavesdropping on their little meeting.

"He's an arrogant little brat." Avery said darkly. "No better than Wilkes."

"Wilkes won't fail." Nott said firmly. "And didn't Folsom mention something about Rosier and Rookwood-"

"Those worms don't have the same loyalty we do." Mulciber spat. "Nor does Snape."

My lips parted. So Severus was still in company with these goons. I shut my eyes, wondering if I should tell Lily or not.

"We can't hope for them to participate." Avery said steadily. "We still have five months to prepare for the next move in the Dark Lord's plan."

My head was spinning. Whatever these thugs were talking about, it was evil. I could feel it like a dark, heavy, malevolent presence, choking the life out of me. But I had to know what evil they were planning.

"No students' been killed here since the Dark Lord was here." Avery went on, sounding almost excited. I wanted to be sick. "That legacy will change… remember Jericho Fleet?"

"Yeah, and good riddance." Mulciber snorted.

I couldn't stand here and listen to them any longer. I had to tell someone. Not Lily. She wouldn't understand. She may not even believe me. I had to go straight to a teacher. Maybe even Dumbledore.

I quietly slipped out of the nook and crept back up the stairs. I could hear their excited, low voices fading behind me as I followed the smell of fresher, cleaner air. I was nearly at the top of the stairs when I heard rapidly-approaching footsteps. I ducked behind a suit of armor just in time. Regulus Black was hurrying down toward the dungeons, a look of panic on his face.

My stomach lurched. I knew why he looked like that. He knew. He knew I'd been down there.

As soon as his robes flicked around the corner and out of sight, I jumped out from behind the armor and pelted toward safety. Anywhere away from there was better. Most students were still unpacking in their Common Rooms if they'd arrived at all. The castle was oddly quiet and still as I raced up the moving staircases. I was on the third floor when I dared sneak a look down the stairwell. Sure enough, three of the Slytherin boys were looking around. For me.

I took the steps two at a time. Like most students past their second-year, it was almost second nature to avoid certain steps. But in my haste, I forgot and lurched forward - hard - and nearly smacked my face into the next few steps.

My foot had become stuck in a trick step.

Fear pounded through me like a drum. I could hear them coming up the steps. It would only be a matter of time before they found me, before they caught me and did who knew what to me…

I tried to tug free, but it was useless. I was stuck, and unless someone came to help me, I was a sitting duck.

He came up the steps a few seconds later. Slightly out of breath and with a chilling look on his hard face, Mulciber drew out his wand from his cloak. A slow, horrible grin spread across his face. I had drawn my own but knew it was about as useful as a stick. Without my magical ability, I was helpless.

"Well, well, well." Mulciber said slowly, savoring the words. "What's this? A Ravenclaw with a broken wing?"

I didn't know what to say. I couldn't speak. I was concentrating on producing anything, even a simple Shield Charm or Disarming Spell, but I knew in my heart that the wand wouldn't cooperate. I was at his mercy, and he would show me none.

"So quiet." Mulciber breathed. He looked like a wolf ready to devour a lamb. "I personally like it when you put up a fight. It's more fun for me."

He was so close now that I could touch him. So I did what Muggles had to do. Without breaking eye contact, I pulled my fist back and slugged him in the jaw.

Maybe it was because he thought he'd had an easy win. But Mulciber was completely unprepared for my strike. I heard a sickening pop and watched as he stumbled back, falling down onto his backside ten feet below on a landing. I grappled with my leg and hustled to break free. With a final, frantic tug, my leg was freed. I scrambled up the stairs, but not before I felt like I had been struck by lightning.

Every fiber of my being was being electrocuted. This was torture, this was going to kill me… Surely, no one could survive long under this kind of pain. My eyes rolled back in my head as the curse consumed every cell. Pain obliterated every thought. I forgot my wand was still a wand, I forgot I was a witch, I forgot Remus, I even forgot my own name. The only thing I knew was that this was the worst pain I had ever been in… and I was going to die.

And just as suddenly, the excruciating pain stopped. I hadn't screamed, I hadn't made a sound. I was in too much pain to even squeak. Instead, I choked on every breath, trying to force air in, trying to get old air out. Trembling hard, I tried to steady myself, but it was no use. I was too weak from the curse.

"Mr. Mulciber," a cool female voice intoned. "would you mind explaining what's happened here?"

I managed to pick my head up enough to see Professor Smith, standing on a step just inches from me. She was glaring at Mulciber like he was a dog squatting on her front lawn.

Mulciber forced out a laugh. "Just trying to help Miss Harkstone up, ma'am. She tripped." He reached out a beefy hand. I had the little strength to slap it away. I saw a flicker of violence cross his eyes, but he was smart enough not to do anything in front of Professor Smith.

She helped me to my feet. Then she extended a hand to Mulciber, who looked confused and very slightly frightened.

"Yes?" He asked, sounding politely confused.

Professor Smith did not look the least bit convinced of his innocence. "Give me your wand."

For a split second, I thought Mulciber was going to have the dung brains to try something. Then he reluctantly handed over his wand.

Professor Smith's gaze never left his face as she tapped her wand against his. "Priori incantatem." She murmured.

Mulciber's wand jerked, as if it didn't want to obey. But then it shuddered once and a sinister red haze billowed out from the tip. Little forks of lightning flashed across the crimson cloud, giving it the impression of a miniature thunderstorm. Mulciber's face paled. For the first time, he looked truly afraid.

Professor Smith didn't look surprised. She tucked his wand into her belt and lifted her chin a notch. Mulciber swallowed convulsively.

"Using any of the Unforgivable Curses is an automatic life sentence in Azkaban." She said calmly. "Did you know?"

Mulciber looked sick. But he defiantly shook his head. "You can't prove I did it."

"No," she said thoughtfully, "but I know someone who can."

A muscle jerked in his cheek. My limbs were still jittery from the curse; I felt like I might be sick.

"Amber," Professor Smith said coolly, "wait for me in my office. It's perfectly safe. Don't open the door for anyone but me."

"Yes, Professor," I managed, glaring straight into the face of Mulciber, who looked back with dark eyes filled with venomous hatred.

"Come." Professor Smith ordered harshly to Mulciber. "We're going to see the headmaster."

At last, Mulciber tore his gaze away from mine. Professor Smith made him go before her. Smartly, she wasn't going to turn her back on a known enemy. I waited until they were out of sight before I rushed the rest of the way up the stairs and into her classroom. On shaking legs, I made it up the small flight of stairs into her office and shut the door. My hands shook badly as I sat down in an overstuffed chair. I buried my face in them, trying to process what had just happened.

The rumors and descriptions were true. The Cruciatus Curse truly was an Unforgivable one. Who could stand such torture for more than a few seconds? One would go mad before they died of overload from pain.

It seemed like an hour before the door opened and Professor Smith swept in. She turned and tapped the door, sealing it locked. She opened up a leather trunk and withdrew a pot of dried herbs and placed them in a strainer. She poured a pot of hot water over them into a china cup and handed it to me. I studied it uneasily.

"It'll help treat the shock," she said as she pulled out a bottle of firewhisky and poured herself a shot. Professor Smith downed it in one gulp. She chased it down with another before putting it away. I watched her, amazed. I was sure that teachers weren't allowed to drink.

"What's going to happen?" I asked after a sip of hot liquid. It was herbal, very slightly sweet, but mostly bitter. It was strangely soothing. I felt the jitters melting away as I took another few sips.

Professor Smith tucked a strand of hair back around her ears. She had it pulled back in a bun as usual. Her green eyes caught mine. "The Headmaster and Professor Slughorn have decided to expel William Mulciber from Hogwarts."

I nearly dropped the cup of tea. I had been expecting this, even hoping for it. But it was still a shock to hear it from her mouth.

"He'll be sent to Coxe Arrington's Institution." She went on. "The juvenile correctional facility for underage violators of magic."

I blinked. "And after?"

She met my gaze steadily. "He'll most likely end up in Azkaban. Perhaps for life."

I stared into the depths of my cup. A few loose tea leaves had drifted to the bottom in a crescent-moon shape. "Oh."

Professor Smith cleared her throat. "He won't be able to hurt you again, Amber."

I lifted my gaze to hers. She was probing, I knew she was. She knew I knew more than I was letting onto, and she was trying to get it out of me.

"I can't tell you why he attacked me." I said slowly. Her brilliant green eyes flickered.

"Why?" She asked. "Because you think you'll be harmed if you do?"

I glanced at her left arm. I had seen it once, glimpsed it. I swallowed another half-cup of tea before allowing her to refill it. I rose on steadier legs, moving to the window. I looked out onto the snowy grounds before turning back to face her. If I said it now, there would be no going back. But I had to know. I had to. "Because I know what you are."

Professor Smith's expression changed in a second. Her face immediately shuttered closed, like curtains being drawn across a window. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I hardly know what you mean."

I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. "I think you do."

She stared at me for a moment, silent. Then she gestured with a sweeping movement of her hand to the two red overstuffed armchairs sitting before her desk. A mahogany coffee table with a cedar tree painted on it sat between the two chairs. "Please, sit."

I watched her for a moment, then chose the chair to the right again. It was cushy and creaked under my weight; it was leather. It reminded me of the coffee house Remus and I had gone to together in Hogsmeade once, before our fight. The chocolate mochas had warmed more than just my fingers; they had warmed my cheeks, too. I realized, with a growing blush, that the coffees hadn't been the only reason for my elevated body temperature…

"Well." Professor Smith said brusquely, moving around her study. "Clearly, you had a good reason to speak to me, especially in such a way."
She wasn't harsh, but I felt the uncomfortable squirm of shame niggling in my stomach. "I need to ask you something."

"Ask away, then." She said, sounding cool. She placed another cup of tea on the cedar coffee table for me, a second cup for herself on her desk. The aroma of chamomile and lavender wafted in the area.

Feeling a little sick, I took a sip of the hot tea and tried to find my words that I had so carefully thought about for weeks. After Folsom, after the unspoken incident in the Shrieking Shack, I'd been wondering and putting the pieces together. I could feel her green gaze pinning me to the chair. I tugged at my dress collar, too warm. "It's a personal question."

Professor Smith studied me. "I may answer it. I may not."

Flushing, I decided to ease into it rather than slap her in the face with the question. "When did you go to Hogwarts?"

She frowned slightly, probably wondering where I was going with this. "I began school in 1938. I graduated with six N.E.W.T.S. in 1945. I started my career as an Auror when I was twenty-two years old. I inherited Quality Quidditch Supplies from my father after he passed. Dumbledore offered me employment as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher last June, and I accepted. I was also, as you know, your personal tutor." She smiled at this, but it quickly faded, like a ray of sunlight vanishing behind a cloud.

I chewed over this information in my mind. "Did you ever get married?"

Professor Smith had been about to take a sip from her cup of tea. The question made her freeze, her mouth half-open, ready to drink her tea. She blinked several times, looking startled. Her mouth pressed into a grim line, and she replaced the cup of tea back on the table.

"No." She said at last.

I wondered if I had gone too far, but I decided to press on. "Did you go to school with Folsom?"

"Yes, I did." She said carefully, eyeing me now.

"Oh." I said. "Right. I forgot. Who else?"

She raised a brow. "Why is this important?"

The pounding had begun between my ears, the frenzied beat of panic. Stay calm. Just ask her. "I was just wondering… if you knew… Lord Voldemort. Personally."

Professor Smith's pale face drained of what little color had remained. She was so white that her china cup looked gray compared to her skin. Her hands trembled as she rose slowly to her feet and walked over to the window, overlooking the lake and the sprawl of the Forbidden Forest.

I watched her, the next question burning on my tongue. Her reaction had been as good an answer as I had expected. It confirmed my theory.

"I thought he was my friend." She confessed softly. "But Voldemort doesn't want friends. He never wanted help…" She trailed off, shaking her head sadly, her eyes shut tight. "Mackenzie was the one who suggested the idea of a new name to him. He hated Muggles. He still does. Our whole 'group'... we were all purebloods. I worry that something like that may arise within Hogwarts again."

"And it has." I said fervently, abandoning my attempt at trying to hold it back any longer. "There's a group of Slytherin boys… they're responsible for a whole load of things. Avery, he made Rina Queen Splinch herself. Remember when she had to go to the hospital wing? She was there for days. And Mulciber, he hates me. Regulus even tried to use the Cruciatus Curse on me in our first year. Mulciber did… today. You saved me. If you hadn't come, I think he would have killed me."

I shut my mouth, my eyes wide, suddenly worried that I had given away too much. Professor Smith still had her back to me.

"I don't suppose you know about the Death Eaters." She said quietly.

I watched her profile, the reddish tinge in her brown hair glinting in the late afternoon sun streaming through her office window. I couldn't see her scar, but I knew that she had more than just physical wounds ailing her. "I know a bit." I admitted.

"Then you should know enough that they are loyal to Lord Voldemort. And he never accepts anyone under sixteen. Though," she said, a cold, mirthless laugh escaping her, "Mackenzie thought he might make an exception for him."

"Who were the first Death Eaters?" I pressed, tantalizing close to the crux of the matter.

She paused again. "Tom always had a circle of companions… admirers, when he was at school. He was a handsome, polite, almost shy boy, and he drew sympathy from nearly everyone. When he got older, those who claimed to be in his confidences were involved in nasty incidents. The worst was when Myrtle Warren was killed. They never knew who did it or why, but they accused Hagrid. Tom did. Her ghost remains here. I tried to befriend her, but she was a difficult girl to be around. She was rather like your friend, Peter."

I thought of him; shy, awkward, and always gawking after the popular ones. James, Sirius, and even Remus were his idols. I chewed my lip, disturbed at how similar I was with this woman, my teacher. "When did the Death Eaters arise?"

"Not long after graduation." She sounded distant, vague. "Some swore fealty to him in school. A few people were even branded while in school, but remained hushed up until after exams and commencement."

Her left hand had traveled to her right forearm, where it was massaging the sleeve. I felt excitement bubble up inside of me.

"You're a Death Eater." I breathed.

Professor Smith snapped her head around so fast that I jumped. Her green eyes - to my complete astonishment - were not full of angry sparks or wrath. They swam with unshed tears.

"Haven't you ever done something you'll regret for the rest of your life?" Professor Smith whispered. She dropped her arms to her sides and swept to the other end of the room, her dark gray cloak billowing out behind her. I held my breath, a sick feeling rising in my throat at her words. I felt the familiar hand of guilt rise up and grip me by the throat tightly and relentlessly. Virginia's face swam before my vision, her laughing, happy face, the light of the sun dancing in her sky-blue eyes. The pallor of her sickness had faded, just in time for me to best the Whomping Willow and sentence her to death.

Without warning, tears overflowed my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. The weight of guilt and what I had done threatened to crush me. I shut my eyes tightly, blind to the room and to the fact that Professor Smith had been one of Voldemort's earliest followers.

"I have…" I whispered tightly. "I know what it's like."

There was a ruffle, like a cloth being shaken out. I opened my eyes and saw Professor Smith peering down at me like a hawk.

I sniffled hard, suffocating under the weight of my grief and my fault. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to stomach it any longer. It fought like a beast out of me, ripping me apart from the inside out. I wondered if this was how Remus felt every month, completely helpless and at the mercy of the monster inside. After I had felt what it was like to want to die, to really be in enough pain that you would gladly embrace death… I didn't want any more secrets. I realized in that moment that I did not want to carry this burden to my grave.

"I killed my sister." I confessed, the words dragged out of me like thorns, scraping me raw. "It was me. It was my fault. I did it… and I haven't told anyone… It's my fault… all my fault…"

I buried my head in my hands, and wept.

Utter silence met my words. I let out the pain I'd been holding back for years, pain that had finally been tapped into today when Mulciber had cursed me. I couldn't hide it any longer. Like the lancing of a boil, I cried as I let the guilt and acceptance for my part in it consume me. It was out. My deepest secret was no longer within me, choking me. No matter what came to me now, I was free. I was clean. I could go in peace.

Professor Smith gently drew my wand from my cloak and set it on her desk. "Your wand hasn't worked for you all year."

I raised my tear-streaked face to hers. She was looking down at me with infinite sorrow. Professor Smith was a woman who clearly knew suffering and remorse, as I did. Whatever she had done in her past, she regretted it. Evil may have touched her life, but she didn't want any part of it.

"I bested the Whomping Willow." I confessed, my face crumpling again. "I got around the Murder Tree. Hagrid said… Hagrid said that anyone who gets the better of the Murder Tree will be cursed by it. That someone you love will die before the full moon. And my sister is dead. She died the night I got around the tree. It's my fault!" I suddenly wished Mulciber had finished the job; I couldn't live with the relentless shame now burning me to ashes.

Professor Smith poured me another cup of tea. She offered it to me. I smacked it away, letting it smash on the floor. I jumped to my feet and paced around the room, wanting to destroy for what I had done.

"Hagrid is a well-meaning man," Professor Smith said quietly. "But he is not always correct. Hagrid was misinformed."

"I killed my sister." I wept, lamenting. "I should have died, not her… not her…"

"Hagrid was wrong." Professor Smith said patiently. "The Whomping Willow can't lay a curse on anyone. It's a magical tree, but it's not a wizard. It can't curse you. Your sister was very ill."

"She was getting better!" I half-screamed. "Don't you get it? It's my fault! Mine!"

Professor Smith shook her head sadly. "No, dear one. You were misinformed. Your sister had a very rare, very secret kind of illness. She was dying from the moment she caught it. There was never any hope for her to get better. She was going to die of her illness, and she did eventually. Peacefully. She wouldn't have wanted you to suffer so much in her stead."

I had stopped moving. I was staring at Professor Smith as if I'd never seen her before. Slowly, her words were sinking into me, like raindrops into dry, thirsty earth. For the first time in two years, I felt hope blooming inside of me.

"You know what she had?" I asked quietly. My voice was reedy and thin. I sniffled hard, my nose feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds.

Professor Smith handed me a handkerchief and encouraged me to blow my nose. I felt instant relief as I did so.

"Your sister's illness was known to the Department of Mysteries," she said. "I'm not authorized to tell you what it was. But know this, dear one: your sister died of the illness. It was fatal. You did not cause her death."

"But… but the tree…" I stammered.

Professor Smith spread her hands. "It's nothing more than a myth."

I collapsed into the chair, my shoes crunching over the broken shards of china. A huge weight was lifting off of my shoulders. A weight I had carried for so long. I gazed at her, dumbstruck.

"I'm… I'm innocent?"

Professor Smith laid her hands on my shoulders in a motherly gesture. "Yes, Amber. You are innocent."

My face crumpled again. But this time it was tears of relief, not anguish.

"You've been carrying a heavy burden for too long." She said quietly. "As I did, for years. Too long do we waste our lives punishing ourselves over things we've done. And your guilt and grief has been extreme to the point of where you have lost your magical ability. But no more. Arise, child, and try again. Try a spell."

I rose on unsteady legs. I took up my ash wand, rolling it between my fingers. I pointed my wand tip straight at the window. "Expecto Patronum."

A huge silver shape burst free from the tip of my ash wand. Brilliant and iridescent blue, it loped around the room gracefully and powerfully, filling every dark corner and crevice with its light. I laughed and cried, overwhelmed by relief and joy.

I was free.

The silver griffin finally dissipated into the sunlight. I pointed my wand at the broken teacup on the floor. "Reparo!"

The cup instantly reassembled itself. I set it on the desk next to the teapot. Professor Smith looked proud and victorious.

"Well done." She said softly.

I looked at her again, breathless, stunned at how much my life had changed in the space of just a few hours. "I can't believe this. It's so… it's like I never lost it."

"You never did." Professor Smith said, smiling as she poured herself another cup of tea. "You always carried it with you, Amber, and now, you are free."

I didn't know what to say. Finding out the truth, accepting it, having my powers fully restored, finally producing a corporeal Patronus… there was no way to express my gratitude to her.

"Thank you." I said simply, each word filled with so much more than just two syllables.

Professor Smith sipped her tea. I hardly noticed her garish scar as she dabbed away a tear. "Go in peace, little one. You are safe now."

I was about to leave, one hand on the knob, when I looked back once more. "Professor… you really were a Death Eater, weren't you?"

Professor Smith set her cup of tea down. She pursed her lips. "Yes, I was. Dumbledore knows. But I would appreciate it if you would keep that fact between the three of us."

After all she had done for me, how could I not? "I promise."

Professor Smith smiled again. "Go on. Show your friends what you can do."

I didn't need telling twice. I raced through the classroom and out the door, heedless of anything else. I could do anything now. I wasn't the somber girl held down by guilt. I was innocent. I was powerful. Mulciber was gone.

I didn't watch where I was going. I didn't see him until I had run straight into him. I smacked against a wall of flesh and bounced back, landing on the ground. I blinked and squinted over at the one I'd hit.

Remus had been walking in my direction, pulling his trunk behind him. He muttered an expletive as he tried to gather his dropped books.

"Remus!" I cried. He looked up at me, face going slack, then carefully blank.

"Amber," he said formally. Clearly, he hadn't gotten my letter.

Laughing, I launched myself forward into him. I hugged him tightly until he protested, absolved of my dementor-like guilt once and for all. I didn't care anymore that we had fought or that he could be a downright git. I didn't care that he was with Angelina, or that he didn't have romantic feelings for me. All I cared was that he was here, here in my life, and that we cared about each other.

"Ouch, Amber!" Remus moaned. "What's the matter with you? Let go."

I pulled back, laughing at his absolutely bewildered face. He looked ready to run for his life at my abrupt change toward him.

"Oh, Remus," I said breathlessly, "I'm so sorry about everything. For being such a prat. Can we make up? Can we just be friends again?"

Remus' mouth gaped open. He seemed to be floundering for speech. "I… uh… well… yes, of course."

"What's going on?" James and Sirius mounted the stairs, Peter close behind, all three looking very surprised. "Are you going to kiss and make up now?"

Remus turned pink, but I sprang to my feet, wand at the ready. "Guys," I said, grinning, "wait until you see what I can do."