December was cold and damp. Right before Christmas, homework was Hell. Everything the teachers thought they'd have time for was now crammed three-lessons-in-one. On the twentieth, Lily packed up to leave. She'd go back home for Christmas, to be with her loving family. Sev and I, unwanted, would remain at Hogwarts.
The next morning we walked Lily through the thick snow to the coach that would carry her to the Hogwarts Express. She hugged us both warmly and waved as she climbed into the horseless coach, rubbing her blue-mittened hands together for warmth.
In the coach behind her, James Potter and Sirius Black wrestled over a small tree branch which the current possessor would whip the other with. I rolled my eyes. Pettigrew waved them off enthusiastically, with cries of: "Happy Christmas, James! See you in January, Sirius!" while Lupin sulked, arms folded, looking pale and very ill.
He reluctantly waved when Sirius jokingly blew him a kiss. Lupin made a disgusted face and shook his head, stomping his feet for warmth. As the coaches disappeared, James slammed Sirius in the back with the branch, soliciting a howl of pain and a punch in the shoulder in return.
Severus and I turned and strode off toward the castle silently. I heard someone whispering behind us and glanced over my shoulder. Peter Pettigrew was whispering fiercely to Lupin, who was shaking his head dismissively. I heard their voices as the wind shifted.
"…telling you, Remus… deserves it for… ling your hair! It's not like… going to break… bones or anything!" I glanced again and saw Pettigrew reach down and pick up a lump of snow. He packed it into a hard ball and handed it to a reluctant and obviously disapproving Lupin, who glanced nervously at us. I sighed and moved an inch or two away from Sev. I tripped suddenly and Sev helped me up, not noticing my fistful of snow. I packed it tight.
There was a whoosh as the ball flew and a muffled thump as it smacked into Sev's head, sending him down. Immediately, my own snowball was loosed, smashing into Lupin's shocked, pale face. He went sprawling, landing in a deep snow bank. Sev stood up angrily and whirled around.
"Why do you damn Gryffindors always attack from behind? Some courage and justice!" He stalked toward Lupin, drawing his wand like a sword and aiming at Lupin's frightened face.
"Wait!" He spun around and looked at me.
"What?" He asked impatiently.
"It was him!" I pointed at Pettigrew. "That little weasel told him to!" Sev turned toward Pettigrew. I drew my wand and followed, unsure if I really wanted a fight. Sev muttered under his breath.
"Locomotor Mortis!" Peter's body was lifted into the air, as if by a very tall bully. His beady eyes darted from Sev, to me, to Lupin.
"H-hey, guys! W-we were just messing around!" He grinned, but it didn't mask his fear at all.
"Not so tough without Potter and Black to protect you, eh, Pettigrew?" I sneered. Lupin righted himself, brushing snow from his clothes. Under his cloak, he wore jeans, and they were soaked from falling in the bank. He shook, paling more. He opened his mouth and raised a hand, as if to stop us, but was silent. Pettigrew glared at him.
"For God's sake, Remus! Help me out here!" He pleaded frantically. Lupin shook his head, gaping wordlessly up at Pettigrew. What could he do? Nothing. Nevertheless, he drew his wand shakily. He pointed it from me to Severus and back again, mouthing nonsense. He finally spat out a spell, sending a white-hot splinter of light at me, which grazed my face. As it passed, Severus sent a Stinging Hex at Lupin, hitting his wand hand.
"Ouch!" Lupin dropped his wand, clutching his hand as an angry weal formed, bright red on his white skin. He put his mouth on the sting and winced. "Mmmph!" A single tear escaped his eye and he glared angrily at… me? He pulled away from the welt, where he'd left deep indentations from his teeth. "Don't bother apologizing this time, Fawkes!" He took a shaky breath as angry tears rolled down his face. "I hate you Slytherins! You all suck!" He turned and stormed back to the castle, cradling his hand.
Sev flicked his wand, allowing Pettigrew to crash to the ground. The small boy leapt to his feet and grabbed Lupin's abandoned wand, then chased after him, glancing warily over his shoulders, as if expecting us to follow.
Guilt pursued me for the next few days. Every time I passed Lupin in the corridors or saw him in the Great Hall, he looked utterly defeated. Any time he noticed me, he donned a look of anger and avoided me, even if I tried to apologize.
Finally, I gave up. If he doesn't want me to say sorry, then I don't want to be sorry. He's just a bloody Gryffindor, anyway. I decided I'd just avoid him, too.
December twenty-fourth was horrible. Snow fell in drifts, nearly blocking the castle doors. No one went outside anyway, so it really didn't matter. Even inside, students wore heavy coats and mittens to keep warm.
Without Lily, Sev and I didn't say much. She had been the one initiating all the conversations. After lunch, in the common room, I tried to strike one up.
"Sure is cold, huh?" I asked casually.
"Uh-huh." He kept right on reading his damn Potions book.
"Glad we're inside."
"Yeah."
His disinterest aggravated me. There was a long silence. I had to get his attention. "He wanted to go out with me," I said offhandedly. I assumed an air of indifference, as if it were an everyday occurrence.
"What?" Severus snapped his head up, looking slightly offended. I immediately regretted my choice of topic. This conversation would be more awkward than the silence I now wished was back.
"I, er… Potter. When he caught me after class. He wasn't just apologizing. He was asking me… out." I grimaced, waiting for his reaction.
"What did you say?" He sounded nonchalant, but his eyebrows lowered moodily.
"I said no!" I said quickly, which was of course a slight fib. I'd really said I'd think about it. Which meant I had to answer or he'd ask until I agreed.
"Oh, alright, then." He turned back to his book, sullen. He didn't look convinced at all. I stood up. It was nearly dinner. I sighed.
"I'm going to take a walk. I'll see you at dinner, OK?" I glanced back at him.
"Yeah, whatever." He seemed cold. Had I hurt his feelings bringing up Potter?
I wandered around until I found my way to the entrance hall. I'd found that if I moseyed about aimlessly, I usually found my destination, whereas if I tried to get anywhere, I usually got lost.
I felt so depressed. About hurting Remus Lupin, about disturbing Severus, about everything. All that was wrong in the world seemed to be my fault. Well, partly You-Know-Who's, but mostly my fault. I had no friends aside from Lily and Sev, and I hadn't received so much as a "hullo" from mum and dad. Tomorrow, I knew, I would wake up to a normal day. No presents, no friends, no life.
As I walked toward the stairs, thinking nothing could make me feel worse, a gaggle of second-year Hufflepuffs rounded the corner. Their common room must be near the kitchens. I slid into an alcove next to a suit of armor, hoping not to be noticed. I heard their giggles float down the hall as they gossiped. It was a few moments before I could make out their words, and realized they were talking… about me.
"…know, and she's always with that slimy Snape boy." A blonde, slightly pudgy girl scoffed.
"Oh, I hate him," a tall, bespectacled brunette sneered. "He has dirty, greasy hair, and all his robes are gross. He looks like a Vampire with cancer!"
I felt anger boiling in me as a third girl, very thin, with light brown curls and lots of freckles, wrinkled her nose and laughed. She piped up, "Oh, but she's just as bad!"
"I know," ridiculed the first girl, shaking her head. "Always getting hurt in Quidditch. Attention-grabber, much?"
"Dr-a-ma queeeeen!" Sang skinny. I clenched my fists.
"You know what I heard?" Four-eyes whispered.
"No, what?" Skinny's eyes widened. She and Pudgy leaned in expectantly, stopping right in front of my hiding spot.
"I heard James Potter asked her out, and she said yes!" The other two gasped and shrieked scandalously. "But…" She paused for effect. "She's already going out with Snape!"
"Ew!" -Pudgy.
"Slut!" -Skinny.
I burst into tears and leapt from my niche. I pointed accusingly at the girls, who were shocked at my sudden appearance. Pudgy actually screamed and dropped her bag.
"You horrible, horrible rumormongers!" I screamed, vision blurred. "I'm not going out with anyone! Least of all Snape! And he's not gross! He's kind and thoughtful! And James is a git! I rejected him! I'm not a slut, and you, you… brutes, you fiends have no idea what you're talking about!" Livid, I spun around and tore toward the doors. Screw curfew! I was leaving. I didn't even wait for the girls to say anything. I wouldn't stay in this horrible place any longer. I would leave right through the Forbidden Forest. And so what if I die? I thought furiously. No one will care! No one! And my life already sucks!
I shoved the heavy left-hand door open. A gust of freezing wind slammed me, blowing piles of snow into the castle. I was only wearing jeans and a sweater, but I didn't care. I would die faster this way. They wouldn't be able to make me come back. I trudged off into the blizzard, ignoring the spiteful bitches who were now calling me back. I ran, disregarding the cold. It took forever, but I finally reached the forest. I saw the gamekeeper's cabin, a wisp of smoke roiling up into the gray sky. The windows were filled with warm, inviting firelight. I longed to go back to warmth, but I couldn't bear to stay in this distressing place.
I glanced back at the castle, invisible save for the open doors, where a group of lantern-wielding teachers had gathered, coming to find me. Refusing to get dragged back, I plunged into the forest.
Immediately, the snow was less overwhelming. As I voyaged deeper into the dark trees, The snow and wind became little more than a memory. The ground was frozen, but dark and snow-free. The trees were so dense, no light shone through the canopy, although it was probably nearing dusk anyway. It became harder and harder to hike through the close-set trunks and I was starting to feel the cold. I became breathless, the fog emitted from my mouth growing thinner and thinner.
My fingers, ungloved, were numb, and the cuticles of my nails were purple. My face and eyes stung with cold, and my teeth chattered uncontrollably. I wanted to lay down and sleep right there, but something, perhaps my passion, kept me walking, although I couldn't feel my legs. Jeans are not good snow pants.
About the point I could no longer see my hand in front of my face, I heard a small scuffling sound to my left. Assuming it was a rat or a badger, I ignored it, proceeding without slowing down. A few minutes later, however, a twig snapped in front of me. I slowed slightly, peering into the impenetrable darkness. No rat was that heavy.
I took a shaky breath and continued cautiously. More noises followed me, triggering unease. I swallowed painfully. My throat was raw. Another twig snapped; I caught my breath. I spun full circle, hyperventilating. I tried to make something out in the empty dark, but there was nothing. So I held my breath, listening intently to the woods around me.
After ten long minutes of agonizing silence, I sighed, relaxing. Before I could react, a huge creature bounded through the trees toward me, snapping and growling. I knew it was a bear. A huge one. Down on all fours, it was roughly four feet high, almost as tall as me. Of course, I couldn't see it, but when it barreled into my stomach, I felt its size.
The wind was knocked from me as I was thrown several feet into a tree. I hit the ground on my hands and knees and pushed myself up, kicking off into a sprint.
I ran blindly through the compressing blackness, hurdling over bushes, roots, and fallen trees. The bear was right on my heels. Literally. Hot, damp breath clung to my skin. The razor sharp teeth snapped shut, grazing my calf. My jeans were torn and I felt a small trickle of blood on my leg. I cried as I ran, then screamed. I cried out for help until I thought my tongue would bleed.
The trees were beginning to thin out. I could see plants and the ground. What little light was left in the sky was filtered through the leaves. Moments later, I saw the faintest orange spot bobbing up and down about fifty meters away. I screamed for help, reaching out one hand as if to grasp the person holding the lantern. I vaulted over a fallen tree, but the ground was broken and uneven on the other side. My foot slipped in an icy dip and I pitched forward into the thin layer of snow. The bear soared over me, unable to predict my sudden drop. It skidded and wheeled around, careening toward me.
I shoved against the ground, looked up. I rolled to one side as the animal pounced. I tried to run, but its teeth clamped down on the edge of the leg of my jeans. I fell on my face again. I clawed at the hard, cold ground, shredding my nails like dead leaves. Blood stained the snow, but all I cared about was my life. I completely overlooked the excruciating pain shooting up my arms. Especially when the monster bit down hard on the crook of my leg, right behind my knee.
I shrieked as I felt my knee split apart. Hot, sticky blood gushed from the wound. The animal released me, and I pulled myself forward a few inches, sobbing hysterically. I glanced over my shoulder for an instant. It was no bear attacking me. It was a huge wolf.
It was a gray wolf, very ragged and thin. It's muzzle was lacerated. It had been in a fight already. It had blue-gray eyes that almost had soul. They were human eyes. But they weren't human teeth it bared maliciously, right before it pounced.
It landed on my back. It weight more than a full-grown man, and I felt my ribs crack. I howled as it dug its four-inch claws into my back, drawing fresh blood. My scream turned into a gurgle as blood filled my lungs. The wolf scratched me repeatedly, as if trying to dig through me into the ground. My voice was nonexistent. My screeching was in vain. The lantern was bobbing toward me, but was too far away. I'd be dead when they got here.
But the strides were longer than normal, and the lantern approached swiftly. A loud, crude voice rose up, shouting furiously at the wolf, which hesitated, lifting a paw as if to dash away. The newcomer raised an arm and swung at the beast, which yelped frantically as it dodged the gargantuan double-axe. The wolf bounded off into the trees, whimpering and howling.
I couldn't see my savior. My own blood filled my eyes. He said nothing, but knelt down, placing the lantern on the ground, and lifted my listless body off the ground with exceeding tenderness. The arms I was cradled in were enormous. Who was this person? I tried to open my eyes, but the muscles in my eyelids were too tired. The giant man lumbered back toward the castle, taking steps five times the length of a normal person.
The big man said things to me, to comfort me and keep me conscious, but they were muddled nothings to me. I was faintly aware of warmth as I was carried into the castle, and of frantic voices as I was carried up the stairs. I heard the awed voices of students, asking pointless questions the teachers refused to answer. I was afraid of the gasps and squeaks. They meant I looked horrible. Finally, I let my mind go, and drifted into a black sleep.
It was like the hangover from Hell. Every sound was amplified a hundredfold. I tried to open my eyes, and the dim candle light blinded me. I groaned. My body was stiff, wrapped in bandages, even my raw fingers. The pain was dull, but was still there. I felt drugged; I probably was. Only a powerful potion could stultify that much pain.
Finally, I forced my eyes open a mite, taking in the room around me. I wasn't in the Hospital Wing. The room was darker and the walls were made of wood, not stone. Also, there were no windows. All the light came from the ceiling, where floated a cluster of bubbles with candles in them. I wasn't even in the castle. I turned my head, looking to my right. I blinked, adjusting my eyes to the light.
My curtain was partially drawn, covering the left side of my bed. I lifted a heavy arm and pulled it a few inches. To my left was another bed, curtains drawn all the way around. I saw the silhouette of a person sitting up, eating off of a bed-tray.
"H-hello?" I called, but my voice was almost completely silent. I tried again. "Hello? W-where am I?" The other patient started. They tore back the curtain and peered at me. It was a swarthy man with chin-length curly black hair. Despite his dark hair and skin, his eyes were white-gray. He stood and limped over to me. He'd obviously been attacked by something. He was covered in red-purple crescent bruises and his arm was in a sling. His chest was bare, and it was wrapped in cleaned white bandages.
"What?" He cocked his head to hear my whispery voice.
"Where am I?" I grimaced as I pulled the curtain farther and pain shot through my arm.
"St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies. First floor - Creature-induced injuries. What got you?" He sat down in a chair gingerly.
"What? I-I don't know… It was dark. It was big. What about you?" I glanced up at him.
"Hippogriff. I'm a breeder and trainer, so I'm in here a lot." He nodded at his bed. "That bed is reserved for me, heh."
"What's a h-hippogriff?"
"Oh, never seen one? You should. Fascinating, really. Part eagle, part lion, and part horse. Majestic, extremely intelligent, but terribly violent. Never disrespect one, whatever you do!" He chuckled lightheartedly.
"I was raised a Muggle. I've never heard of Saint Mungus-"
"-Mungo's." He smiled. "That's OK. The Healers here are great. They'll take care of you." He looked at me and flinched. "You're pretty beat up."
"I was chased through the Forbidden Forest. I almost made it out, but…" I trailed off.
"Forbidden Forest, eh? You go to Hogwarts? What year?"
"First year. I'm in Slytherin. I don't belong there, though. I don't belong anywhere." I looked down at my hands, in their bloody gauze.
"Sure you do. That old hat may be corky, but he's never wrong. And there's nothing wrong with Slytherin." He laughed. "I mean, I am a Hufflepuff!" He snickered. I smiled. He made it easier. I wanted to know what happened, but I was in the dark.
The door opened, and a few people walked in. The first was a woman in lime green robes with a name-tag: Sylvia Derwent. In her stead were Professor McGonagall and a round, flustered man in a lime green bowler hat. Upon entering, the man removed his hat, inclining his head to me. I nodded in return. McGonagall strode to me, waving her wand and causing extra chairs to appear. She and the portly hat-man sat down. The dark man nodded respectfully at them and returned to his bed, drawing his curtains to allow us privacy.
McGonagall pursed her lips grimly and smoothed out her dress. "Miss Fawkes, how are you feeling?"
"Alright. How long have I been…?"
"Three days." She looked grim. I glanced curiously at the man, who was fidgeting with a black attaché case. "Oh, Miss Fawkes, this is Mr. Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. He wanted to speak with you."
The man smiled kindly. "How do you do?" He opened the case and pulled out a stack of parchment. I studied them as he clipped them to a clipboard and handed them to me, along with a fountain pen. I accepted them gingerly, careful not to hurt my fingers. I looked up at him uncertainly. "If you please, Miss Fawkes, I will need you to fill out sign these papers, official Ministry business, most important."
I looked at the stack. It was like a contract or an application. There was even fine print at the bottom. I looked up, paling. "What, er… what is this? Am I in trouble? Are you expelling me?" My eyes stung with tears. I knew from the start I wasn't going to make it.
"No! Er… actually. Well, just a formality, I-" McGonagall cut him off.
"-Wait, Miss Fawkes. You don't have to fill it out yet. Not until you get an explanation. We'll go back to the school as soon as you're checked out and explain everything. Mr. Fudge will accompany us," she assured me gently, then cast a curt glance at the Minister, who looked nervous, then nodded.
"Of course, Miss Fawkes. You deserve an explanation, after all."
The Healer checked me and gave me a scalding, nasty potion, dark blue in color. She wrote a few things on her chart and nodded. "I'll get you checked out, Miss. Could you sign here?" She held up the form, keeping a hand firmly over the line headed: nature of injury. I shakily signed my name in sloppy cursive, wincing slightly.
She took the board away, then returned a moment later with a wheelchair. She and Fudge helped me into it. I yelped as my injured knee was bent. The Healer steered my chair, leading us to a large waiting room. Patients and family of patients sat reading things like The Quibbler and Witch Weekly. The latter's front page bore a picture of a harried-looking woman standing in a cluttered room under a color shifting title reading: Space-Savers! Newly invented Enlargement Charm makes storing a breeze!
We stopped before a large fireplace, about seven feet tall and five feet wide. The Healer reached up on the mantle and pulled a little jar down. She lifted the lid, revealing sparkling green powder. She took a pinch of it an flicked it into the fire, which erupted into emerald-green flames.
Mr. Fudge tipped his hat to the Healer and stepped into the flames, shouting, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: Headmaster's Office!" clearly into the chimney. He spun around, disappearing.
McGonagall rolled me forward. Before I could protest, we were in the fire, surrounded by green flames. They were temperate to the touch, not hot or cold. I choked a little on the smoke, though, coughing into my hand, as McGonagall repeating Fudge's words. We spun around and dropped through the air. It was like falling through a tunnel, with windows on all sides, whizzing past at a breakneck speed. The windows, I realized, were fireplaces, leading to an unnumbered amount of destinations.
Finally, we touched down in a smaller inglenook, filled with soot. McGonagall wheeled me out into a round room, which I recognized as Dumbledore's office. She turned me toward the desk, lining me up with several other chairs, occupied by the other three heads of house and Mr. Fudge. Dumbledore sat behind the desk, fingertips together, looking grim.
A knock on the door startled the silent group. Prof. McGonagall answered it. Madame Pomfrey shuffled in, leading Remus Lupin, who had a bandage over the bridge of his nose. He looked very beat-up and tired. The two sat down. Seconds later a man came in, ducking through the doorway. It was the man who had saved me, who I now realized was also the man who had led the other first years and myself across the lake to the school the first night. His face was partially hidden behind a bushy beard, and he donned a large, tattered moleskin coat with lots of pockets. He nodded at Dumbledore and sat down, eliciting a loud, ominous creak from the chair. Dumbledore cleared his throat as soon as the door clicked shut.
"Well. We're all present, now, so there's no reason to dally." He nodded to me. "Miss Fawkes wandered into the Forbidden Forest and was brutally attacked. We are here to cover all the facts and details of the incident and to help Miss Fawkes with any distress caused by it." He gestured to me. "Miss Fawkes, why don't you start with why you left the school without permission?"
Nervous, I glanced at everyone, looking intently at me. I took a deep breath. "Er… some Hufflepuff girls were gossiping about my friend… and me. I got upset and ran away. I guess I was just… overwhelmed. I'm not very popular and I hang out with Severus Snape, and people don't like him either. I thought I could escape the school through the forest. I got in really deep, and then I heard… it. Following me." I got lightheaded, like I was dreaming. I felt about to float out of my body as I remembered the fear. "Th-then it jumped out and hit me. I-I… ran. It, er… caught me…" I trailed off, not too keen on saying anything more. Remus Lupin's eyes were watering. He seemed very upset. I felt my own eyes sting. I tried to conceive why he was here, but had absolutely no idea.
Dumbledore turned to the large man. "Sylistia, this is Rubeus Hagrid, the gamekeeper at Hogwarts. He rescued you and witnessed some of the attack." Hagrid nodded, looking sad. Why was everyone so gloomy?
"What's wrong with you all?" I burst out. "You look like you're at a funeral! I'll be OK!" Dumbledore hung his head and Lupin hiccupped, a few tears escaping. "I… I am going to be OK. Right?"
No answer.
Lupin burst into tears, and I nearly followed him. My vision blurred and ice flooded my veins. Madame Pomfrey cradled Lupin. I stood up, ignoring the racking pain in my leg, and stared at Dumbledore. McGonagall moved to stop me, but Dumbledore raised a hand dismissively. I leaned forward, hands on Dumbledore's desk. My fingers were bleeding again. I'd been clenching my fists subconsciously. Dark red stained the polished wood as I stared intensely into the Headmaster's piercing blue eyes.
"Professor. What-is-wrong-with-me?" I demanded in a measured voice. Tears slid down my cheek.
"It was me, Fawkes!" I snapped my head around, facing Lupin, who was now standing, fists clenched. He was sobbing. "I-I'm a W-w-werewolf! It was me who attacked you! I-I'm s-s-so, so sorry!" He fell to his hands and knees, as if bowing to me. He bawled uncontrollably. I stared, shocked.
"What?" I suddenly lost all feeling in my legs and toppled over. Dumbledore, the closest, jumped up, darting around the desk and catching me before I hit the ground. He helped me back into the wheelchair. I stared into space for a moment, then burst into tears. Professor McGonagall rushed to my side, kneeling by me and hugging me.
"Don't cry, Sylistia! We can help you!" She looked helplessly at the other teachers, all looking nervous and forlorn. I tried to talk, but the sobs kept coming.
Finally I choked out, "D-don't t-t-tell my f-father!" I turned to McGonagall, burying my face in her shoulder. She patted my head.
"We have to inform your parents, Miss Fawkes," piped Fudge.
"Don't t-tell fath-her!" I cried, beside myself. I knew he'd lock me up if he ever found out. He wouldn't let me go outside, let alone to Hogwarts. He'd call me a monster, a demon, a Hell spawn, he might even try to exorcise me, or worse… he could kill me. I could already see him loading silver bullets into a pistol, staring at me with no feeling as he pulled the trigger. The blood ran from my face, and I felt lightheaded. "I…" I took several deep breaths and calmed myself. Lupin was pale and he was trying to stop his own tears. "I want… to go to bed."
"Oh, but there is still the matter of the, er… forms," Mr. Fudge signaled to my lap, where I still held the stack of parchment. He handed me the fountain pen, and I began the tedious work of filling out the application, which was headed:
Department of the Control of Magical Creatures: Dangerous Animal Report:
Werewolf
There were the usual - name, age, blood status - and there were others - date of attack, name of werewolf, etc. The fine print was exceptionally morbid:
The Ministry of Magic is not in any way liable for the killing of a Werewolf in self defense or the death of a werewolf caused by any other creature, magical or otherwise…
The fine print delved further and further into the realm of the Ministry's responsibility. It also said that all werewolves are to be confined during their transformation and kept away from humans. Lupin, being the other werewolf, had to sign every page I did. I was exhausted when I finished. My brain was on the verge of failing.
Finally, I'd signed the last page, after Lupin, and McGonagall told Lupin and me we were free to go. We trudged out of the office and downstairs. Students were still eating dinner, but neither of us were hungry. At the stairwell, Lupin stopped and turned to me.
"I'm so sorry, Fawkes. You have no idea. I've never hurt anyone before." He looked about to cry again. "If there's ever anything you need, tell me, OK?" With that, he whirled around and ascended the stairs. I turned the other way, plodding downstairs to the dungeons. I finally got back to the common room, but the password didn't work. They must have changed it. I sighed and leaned against the opposite wall. I'd hoped to get to bed before anyone saw me, but now I had to wait for someone to open the door for me.
I was sitting down, drifting off, when I heard a shrill, annoying voice to my left. "Oh, my God! Sylistia?!" I turned to see Bellatrix Lestrange, the Quidditch announcer.
"Er… hi. I don't know the new password." I grinned nervously, standing up. My leg and back were still sore, but getting better.
"We thought you'd died!" She turned to the wall. "Devil's Snare, practice care." She chimed. The door opened and she pushed me in, asking rapid questions. "What did you do? Where were you? What happened? Why were you outside?"
"I… I, er… don't want to talk about it." I tried to pass her and escape to my dorm, but she tugged me onto the sofa.
"Tell me, tell me, tell me!"
"I-I barely know you!" I retorted, flustered.
"Fine. SNAPE!" She shrieked. I whipped around toward the boys' dorms, and a moment later I saw Severus trudge out sleepily, ears covered.
"Whaddayawant?" He slurred. He spotted me and his eyes popped. "Sylistia! Omigod, what happened?!" He flew to my side, freaking out.
"You'll tell him, won't you?" Bellatrix asked slyly.
"Tell me, Syl! What happened?" He paled, sitting on the other side of Bellatrix. They both stared at me, waiting.
"I was… attacked."
"By what, Syl?" Asked Severus. Bellatrix nodded eagerly next to me.
"Er… a bear."
"A bear?" They asked in unison.
"There are bears in the Forest?" Bellatrix asked.
"Of course there are, twit!" Sev sneered. "It's a forest!"
"Don't call me a twit, greasy!"
"Guys, stop!" I demanded. I sighed exasperatedly, shaking my head. "It's hard enough without the lot of you grilling me!" I stood up and stormed off to my dorm, slamming the door behind me. I threw myself on the bed and began sobbing again. I ignored the door creaking open behind me.
"Sylistia?" It was Bellatrix. "I'm sorry, Hun." She sat down on the edge of my bed and patted my head. Thank God she didn't rub my back. "You wanna talk about it?"
"N-no… I just want to sleep." I flopped down onto the pillows, exhausted. Bellatrix sighed and stood up, patting my head as she left.
"You'll get over it, Hun." She left, letting the door shut behind her with a click.
"That's what you think." I burst into tears again and cried into my pillow for hours. I finally fell asleep just as the sky was turning gray. From that day forth, I would never overlook the importance of names. The Forbidden Forest is called the Forbidden Forest for a reason, and I would never, ever forget that again. It's only very unfortunate that it took permanently changing my life for the worse to realize I am not exempt from the rules at Hogwarts. No one is.