Chapter 7

The next morning passed almost uneventfully. I sent the letter to my mother as soon I had the opportunity, and I noticed Draco suspiciously watching me during breakfast. I ignored him, my mind spinning still after the exchange we had last night. Ever since we'd arrived at school he'd been acting strangely, not including how insulting he'd been once we got off the train. I'd just been trying my best to avoid him. I didn't like that I had to do that, but the boy I knew then was so different from the boy I knew now that it scared me.

I was hit with a memory from our third year, when he had insulted Buckbeak and our fiasco with the Slytherin ensued.

Hagrid was showing us how to properly treat a Hippogriff. After Harry successfully greeted Buckbeak, Draco had gained a big head and strode fearlessly up to the Hippogriff. "Yeah, you're not dangerous at all are you? Great ugly brute."

I instantly stepped forward and cried, "Draco, don't!" but it was too late. Buckbeak reared and while Draco raised his arms to defend himself, the hippogriff clawed his arm and fractured the bone. Draco instantly fell to the ground, holding his arm.

I ran forward and leapt in front of Draco. Hagrid shouted. "Don't Rose!"

Surprising even Hagrid, Buckbeak calmed and I was able to curtsey to him. He bowed, and I petted his lowered head, eventually touching my forehead to his. "Woah." I heard the rest of my class exclaim. Hagrid was frozen in shock at my bravery, or rashness, taken another way.

I turned and knelt by Draco after I had calmed Buckbeak and Harry led him away. Draco constantly shouted, "He's killed me, he's killed me!" as he protected his arm. He seemed to be milking the moment for every penny it was worth.

Hagrid walked over and stammered, "It's alright. It's just a scratch!"

Hermione stepped forward, urgency flooding her voice. "Hagrid! He needs to be taken to the hospital."

Hagrid looked toward her and started, "I'm the teacher, I'll do it." He then proceeded to pick up the groaning blonde.

I stayed his arm. "Wait," he looked me in the eyes, confused. "please?" He nodded. I stood up and looked over at Draco's face. He still moaned pathetically.

"Draco. It's okay. Everything's going to be okay." I said softly, soothing the stupid boy. I pulled out my wand and pointed it at his arm. "Felura." A splint and a cloth sling materialized, immobilizing the arm and preventing any further damage. He continued to moan. "It's alright Draco." I murmured. "Dorme." Soft blue light poured out of my wand and swirled around Draco. His moaning quieted till his head nodded to the side and his eyes closed in peaceful sleep.

"Tend to Buckbeak, Harry." Hagrid ordered before he carried the injured boy to the hospital wing and I followed while Harry stayed with the class and tended the hypogriff.

What happened to us, Draco? I thought. The only other time I remembered us being so close at school was when he'd asked me to the Yule Ball the year before. That completely threw both Harry and Ron for a loop, and Harry and Draco had nearly gotten into a duel over me. I'd been able to stop it, thankfully; granted, Harry was a good duelist, better than most, but Draco was far better, and had been practicing for many more years than my housemate.

I recalled that Draco's father had first taught Draco how to duel, magicless of course, Lucius Malfoy was not about to break the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction for Underaged Sorcery; when Draco was six years old. There were just the hand motions and incantations for various low grade defensive and offensive spells, but they made a difference. I had not allowed to learn such spells at the time.

"Rose, are you alright?" asked Hermione from across the table.

I glanced back at her. She was looking up at me with her usual "I want to know" look that somehow seemed to compel people to open up to her.

"I'm fine." I lied. I was far than fine. From the instant we'd arrived at the school, I'd been insulted – whether he knew or not - by my former best friend; belittled and targeted by my housemates; tortured by a woman whom I couldn't fight against without bringing the wrath of the Ministry, which we were already on thin ice with, onto the school; lost my fragile control over my one-of-a-kind gift at the worst possible moment and in the presence of the worst possible person; and had been involved in a very awkward conversation with my former best friend that left me feeling lost and confused. No, I was far from fine.

I turned my attention back to my book, a complete guide to healing magic that Madame Pomfrey had given me third year before the hippogriff incident when she realized that I had a propensity for healing magic. It was about six inches thick and I was still only in the middle.

My hand flopped lazily on the table, and Hermione grabbed it before I had a chance to react. She turned my hand back and forth in hers and lightly stroked the angry red marks. I winced. "Did Umbridge do this to you?" I pulled my hand back self consciously and didn't answer her, burying my nose back into the massive volume in front of me. Hermione, growing suspicious, snatched up Harry's and he cried out, startled. I looked up and she did the same examination with Harry. "You have to tell Dumbledore." Hermione ordered firmly.

Harry pulled his hand away and we both said in unison. "No."

"But, guys," she protested, trying to be the voice of reason, "He needs to know about what she is doing." She seemed to have deduced that what happened to us was purely because of Umbridge. I was so elated in that moment that she was ignorant of what really happened - and that the other culprit was across from her - that I almost laughed, but I stopped myself before I did and never gave anybody even an inkling of the emotion. My face stayed the somewhat appalled and annoyed mask that it had been at the start of the conversation.

"No, he doesn't. He has enough on his plate right now." Harry stated firmly. I turned my attention back to my book. Hermione's expression grew resigned, but I knew though that she wouldn't let the issue rest for long. She was too stubborn.

Toward the end of breakfast, I had gone to occasionally rubbing my sore hand to ease the sting. I had already tried all of my healing spells on myself and Harry but nothing worked. The pink woman must have further bewitched the quills.

Hermione looked past me and whispered quietly, "Draco is looking at you." I turned, along with the rest of my friends, just in time to see Draco cast his eyes down and strike up a conversation with Crabbe.

"Insufferable git." my cousin sneered, sitting beside me. I elbowed him. "Bloody hell Rose."

"Be nice, Ron."

"But, it's Malfoy!"

"I don't care. You can still be nice." I stated. He looked away from me. I stared at Harry who sat next to Hermione and saw that he was glaring intently at Draco. I opened my mouth to reprimand him like I had my cousin, but I knew it would fall on deaf ears, so I let it go and snapped my mouth shut.

The rest of the day went by just as uneventfully. Come to think of it, so did the rest of that month. Umbridge kept controlling us in her classroom. No talking was allowed, and no spells of any kind were allowed anywhere near her classroom. That didn't stop Fred and George from testing out their new creations: a set of potion laced and enchanted sweets they called Weasely's Wizard Wheezes. They were very popular in our house, and a few of the others. The Slytherin's of course weren't allowed to partake in the goodies, which were rather tasty I might add, even if they gave you boils or fattened your chin later.

Our classes were the same as always, except the fifth years now had extra homework and studying to do in preparation for the O.W.L.s at the end of the year. I was confident that I would get a high score in Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, and Charms, but Transfiguration needed some work. I could probably ask Hermione for help in that area. The other subjects: History of Magic, Care of Magical Creatures, etc... I was steadily working on.

With Umbridge's mass censoring, it was quickly made apparent that it would be impossible for most of my class to pass our O.W.L.s in Defense Against the Dark Arts without an actual teacher. There was one person that I thought of, but I knew that he would be against it.

"No, Rose!" He protested one night when we were in the Common Room and the rest of our house except my cousin, myself, and Hermione were asleep. "You don't know what you are asking."

"I know very well what I'm asking," I asserted, "We need a real teacher. You have used Defense Against the Dark Arts when it matters:..." I bit my lip, trying to find the best way to word the phrase, "...defending against the Dark Arts."

He raised his eyebrow.

"No, Rose, I won't train the entire Defense Against the Dark Arts class. It's not what any of them think it is. Besides, they'd probably just ask about Cedric."

I sighed. He had a good point, but we needed him.

"If you won't teach the class to defend themselves, would you at least teach us?" Asked Hermione unexpectedly.

He looked at her pointedly. "Alright." He turned away from us, but my eyes lit up, knowing that the argument had worked. "I'll teach you, but only you." he stared into the flames that danced happily.

"Where can we train?" Asked Ron.

He thought for a minute, then Harry answered, "The Shrieking Shack for now. We can find something else later."

The ginger's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "The Shrieking Shack? Are you mental?! Have you forgotten the last time we were there? I almost got my leg torn off!" he protested, crossing his arms and staring murderously at Harry on the sofa. Ron was in one of the red and gold armchairs by the fire. Hermione shared the sofa with Harry and read a copy of the Quibbler that I'd given her from Luna. I sat on the floor petting Harper who was curled up in my lap.

I turned my gaze to Ron. "Exactly." His head whipped and he landed his gaze on me, horrified that I agreed with the Harry. "No one will look for us there. We all know that Umbridge and her cronies are too cowardly to go there. And besides," all three turned to me. "We know the secret entrance."

I received my parents' reply to the letter I'd sent after detention a day later. It was written on a single sheet of ivory dyed paper, my name written on the front of the self envelope, and sealed with the family crest. I opened it in the owlry. Their elegant scripts were surrounded by the scribbles from the rest of the Order.

Dear Rose,

We knew that this would happen sooner or later, but at least it has happened now when you are older. Continue to hide it as well as you can. News from our spies tell us that the ministry at the moment doesn't take kindly to unique gifts, and based on what you told us about your new teacher, we would suspect that if she found out what happened, she would have no trouble snitching to the Ministry. It is imperative that you tell no one who doesn't need to know.

We're sorry that this comes so late. The Ministry has continually cracked down on more and more owls since the the World Cup, and the contents of this letter are far too sensitive to fall into their greedy hands. We had to send this through private channels and that takes time.

Be strong Rose.

Sincerely,

Your Mother and Father,

Emma and Hawthorn Braddock.

Crowded around her serious message were many lighter notes. From my aunt was one saying hi and reminding me to tell Ron to study. Sirius wrote tell me that in about a month he would contact us with some very important information if a hunch was true, but he didn't let on about what the "hunch" was.

I followed their advice to the letter. As long as Harry hadn't betrayed my trust, only he and Draco knew of my gift. I knew that Ron was far too loose lipped to know even though he was my cousin, and Hermione had a reason to know, but she would probably figure it out on her own sooner or later; she had a way of doing that.

Draco I had to worry about. He was the only other one who knew of my gift outside of my immediate family. He was my friend once, so hopefully he wouldn't let it slip, but on the other hand, he was a Slytherin, and based on what he said on the platform, I realized that I had no assurance that my secret was safe with him. If only things had turned out differently.

We trained in the Shrieking Shack three times a week after the end of classes, and quickly mastered whatever Harry taught us. However, both Ron and Hermione became jealous when we realized that I was perfecting the spells markedly faster than they were. In the the span of three weeks I was able to cast most of them non-verbally.

As the Whomping Willow lost its leaves in tandem with the rest of the trees and sweaters became a necessity, I found myself spending a good amount of time with Luna, especially in the Forbidden Forest with the Thestrals. The seclusion was comforting, and the fact that I wasn't the only person who could see the strange creatures was assurance that I wasn't crazy. She was also one of the few who believed our story.

I hoped that since Harry could also see the Thestrals, although he didn't know why, he wouldn't feel so alone, and know that he had people who understood what he was going through. We all lost people we cared about, and, hopefully, knowing that there were others who believed him other than just our little quartet would give him the motivation to rebel the Ministry and fight against You-Know-Who.

I adjusted my red and gold striped scarf as I made my way down the slope that led to Hagrid's hut which had lain empty and abandoned since before school started. No one seemed to have any idea where he was, and I knew that Harry was saddened over that fact. Hagrid was our confidant and friend.

I turned before I reached the round, gray hut and trekked into the depths of the Forbidden Forest. About a two hundred meters in, I found a barefooted Luna stroking the muzzle of one of the dark, winged creatures. "Hello, Rose." She said. I was behind her, and hadn't turned, but she seemed to have eyes in the back of her head.

"Hey," I answered back, taking a large slab of red meat out of my bag; I'd put it under a preservation spell so that it wouldn't smell. I tossed it to one of the Thestrals. The large Pegasus-like animal eagerly snapped up the morsel. I stoked its muzzle and it knelt to allow me onto its back. I climbed on obligingly and it flapped its skeletal wings, flinging us into the air.

For someone who had never flown on the back of a Thestral; most had not since they had to have seen someone die to be able to see them in the first place, it could be compared to riding on a hippogrif or a dragon, but the hide of a Thestral was far smoother, and they shot through the air with effortless ease. Appearing to be flying through the air on an invisible broomstick was just an added bonus.

As my winged steed circled the air over the trees and turned in the direction of the castle, I could see a person on the worn path to the half giant's home. A flash of light shone off of their glasses, momentarily blinding me, and I could see a speck of black atop their head. There was only one black haired, glass-wearing student who I knew would be walking toward Hagrid's.

I smiled, and bade the Thestral to land. I knew that the swift landing would catch Harry's attention. We contacted the leaf covered forest floor and I leapt off of the creature. It called and I gave it another piece of steak from my bag.

Luna and I soon heard Harry's footfalls crunching the shed leaves. I turned away and scrambled up one of the trees, camouflaging myself with still-green foliage. I wanted Harry to believe he was alone with Luna. I didn't want him to think that I had staged it. I hadn't, of course, but I knew that's what he would think.

As Harry approached Luna, I pulled a few leaves aside and heard her say clearly in her high, sing-song voice, "Hello, Harry Potter."

"Your feet. Aren't they cold?' Harry asked concernedly, glancing down at her bare feet.

"Bit." Luna answered sweetly. "Unfortunately, all of my shoes have mysteriously disappeared. I suspect Nargles are behind it."

"Are these Thestrals?" Harry asked, surveying the clearing as the creatures pranced and were at ease.

"Yes. They're quite gentle, really, but people avoid them because they're a bit..."

"Different." Harry offered.

"Why can't the others see them? Besides Rose, of course." Harry inquired as they started to walk toward the black Equinesque animals.

"They can only be seen by people who've seen death." Luna explained. Their footsteps got closer, and a baby Thestral, about the size of a new-born colt, tottered toward them from behind my tree.

"So, you've known someone who's died?" Harry asked.

"My mum. She was an extraordinary witch, but she liked to experiment, and... one day one of her spells went badly wrong. I was nine."

"I'm sorry." Harry answered quickly.

"It was quite horrible." Luna agreed, her hand buried in her denim messenger bag. I knew full well that there was fruit and meat in it. Thestrals were kind of like butterflies. The adults were omnivorous, enjoying a steak and the occasional apple equally, but the foals only ingested meat or suckled from their mothers like most mammals.

"I still feel very sad about it sometimes, but I've got dad." she finished slowly. I smiled. Luna was one of the most caring people I knew, and nothing seemed to faze her. "We both believe you, by the way." She continued. Harry turned his attention back to her as she pulled a beautiful red apple from her satchel. "That He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back, and you fought him, and the Ministry and the Prophet are conspiring against you and Dumbledore." she elaborated.

"Thanks," Harry breathed, his tone melancholy, "Seems you're about the only ones that do."

"Don't think that's true," the fourth year advised as she threw the apple to the baby Thestral. It sniffed it then shook its head in disgust and before looking at Luna. "I suppose that's how he wants you to feel."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Well, if I were You-Know-Who... I'd want you to feel... cut off... from everyone else, cause... if it's just you alone... you're not as much of a threat." She smiled at the end, and Harry did the same. She tossed a small cut of meat to the baby, who sprung forward and gulped it eagerly.

"Thanks Luna."

"You're welcome Harry."

He turned to leave, but inquired, "Do you know who Rose lost?" I cringed in my tree, and I accidentally shook the leaves. Harry glanced up as I let the branch go so he couldn't see me, but a flock of birds luckily erupted from the tree a moment later, casting away Harry's suspicion that he was being watched. I stared disapprovingly into the green and gold, trying to control my emotions and keep from losing it again. Now days I found that sometimes the slightest show was able to set off my gift, and I didn't need any more people knowing about it, no matter how trustworthy.

"No, she never told me. Come to think of it, she never tells anyone about her past." Luna answered.

Harry turned and walked away toward the castle.

After he was out of sight, I jumped out of the tree and glared after him. "What right does he think he has to ask that?" I fumed.

"He was just curious, Ivy." Luna argued, using the nickname that only she and Draco knew. We all hung out before Hogwarts and at one of our play dates we gave each other nicknames: Luna's was Ivory, Draco's was Dragon, and mine was Ivy after I got myself hopelessly tangled in the plant after a stint of accidental magic.

I looked at her, and realized that I had to rein my emotions back in; my gift was right below the surface and itching to escape. "I'm sorry." I apologized, more to Harry than to Luna. "It's just uncomfortable to talk about."

"They were close to you, weren't they?"

I was taken by surprise, and couldn't answer for a few seconds. She was also very perceptive. "Yes, she was."