Crying would help me no longer, I thought a little while later. And so, despite how rubbish I felt, I dragged my bedraggled self upright and began to trudge down the dark tunnel the Room had made for me. It was dark, I thought, so I drew out my wand. I hesitated, and then, shut my eyes and thought of Draco and the bracelet on my wrist, the one he had given me all those months ago.

"Expecto Patronum!" I said, with all the energy I had left. Just as before, from my wand sprung a bright silver lion. It padded along beside me silently as I began to walk again. I placed a hand on its great back. It felt like touching a cloud, very much just like air, but you know there's something special about it. It looked up at me as we walked in silence and I contemplated it. Why was it not a snake? Its earnest eyes offered no answer, but it radiated happiness from its every pore. It was filled with Draco, with everything I loved about him.

I looked at the tunnel. How did this work? I had read about the Room of Requirement as well as Hermione. It was a room of legend, supposed to open to only those who were pure of intention. The same went for what it created for the dweller. Like when it made me a sandwich. Like when it made this tunnel for Draco. To save me.

"Please, I love her,"

The words had always felt too mature for us when we exchanged them. I had never been in love before, something in me was never sure I was. It had felt like we were playing a game, but hearing him say them with so much force, seeing the wall open for me. He was pure of intention. He was honest. He loved me. I knew that I now loved him too.

My lion treading beside me was growing dimmer. I looked up to see that there was light coming at the end of the tunnel.

I mounted the small incline at the end of the tunnel to find myself in Dumbledore's office. The man himself was at the end, hastily packing some books into a small trunk.

"Ah, Miss Wint, I was wondering when you'd make your appearance," he said, still packing his books, not even looking up.

"How did you..."

"The Room and I have a little agreement. It lets me know when it is planning to open a tunnel up into my office. I saw the name Hannah Abbott on the list for you little club- or my club" he chuckled, "Hannah Abbott has been ill most of this and last term. I have written frequently to inquire after her health. She could not have been attending, and yet her name is on the list. That meant somebody who could not afford to be found out. A slytherin. There is only one Slytherin I know with so many friends in other houses." He looked up and smiled at me, proud of his own skills of deduction.

"Yes, Professor." I said, stunned.

"I have to leave, my dear, before they get back. Would you mind too terribly if I asked you to lock the door behind you. I wouldn't be surprised if the Azkaban guards aren't on their way already," he said, closing the trunk with a great heave.

"But, Professor, how will you get out of the building?" I asked, "Nobody can apparate in or out of Hogwarts,"

"Some rules, Miss Wint, are a little more lenient for the headmaster," he replied, winking. Then, he turned on his heel and was gone. I was alone.

As I walked towards the door, I noticed the sorting hat, no longer on its place on the shelf, but now on a table. I reached out to touch it.

"Well, well, Angeline Wint, how could I be of interest?" it asked, startling me.

"It's about... my patronus," I said.

"Oh, so you've found out have you? Yes, the patronus does take up an entire section in your head, it's fascinating to watch."

"Does it count when you're sorting?"

"Certainly. But you don't want to know about the patronus, you want to know about the sorting, don't you?"

"Well, yes," I said, looking at its beaten leather exterior. How could something so mediocre looking hold such power?

"You, Miss Wint, were hard to sort."

"But you declared me Slytherin almost immediately," I said, puzzled. Was it trying to make me feel better?

"Well yes, but there were many ways in which you could have been in other houses. You have the wit and intelligence of a Ravenclaw, the loyalty of a Hufflepuff, and most predominantly, the heart and courage of a Gryffindor, but..."

"The blood of a Slytherin," I said, sighing. The thing that plagued me.

"Not necessarily only that. I have seen into many heads in my time, Angeline. You have found something in Slytherin, have you not?"

"I-" I thought of Draco. Had the sorting hat matched me up with Draco?

"Sometimes, when I'm feeling cheeky, I don't only sort into houses," it said, and if a hat can smile, it certainly did.

"So, if I hadn't been the heir,"

"After some deliberation, I would have said you were a Gryffindor," it said. Somehow, it felt harder knowing this than it had being in Slytherin. If, some centuries ago, I hadn't had a relative named Salazar Slytherin, I might have been friends with all those people I longed to know. I tugged my silver-and-green tie from my neck. It felt mediocre now.

As I did so, I noticed a glint on my wrist. The bracelet. It had brought me Draco, the blood that ran through my veins. It was all worth it for Draco.

"Thank you," I said to the hat. It didn't respond, it had gone limp. Suddenly, I heard a rattling at the door. Somebody trying to get in. Of course, Dumbledore's door would not open to a simple Alohamora.

I ran away from the door as quickly as I could. From nowhere, a massive red bird swooped down in front of me, the most exquisite creature I had ever seen. I recognized it as Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix. It flew deliberately into a shelf and tapped on three random books with its beak. The shelf flew open, revealing behind it yet another tunnel. You've got to love Hogwarts.

I ran quickly through and it shut behind me, just in time for me to hear the door fly open. Footsteps filled the room as I listened against the wall. As far as I could tell, they fanned out around the whole .

"Nothing over here,"

"Here either,"

"Hey, there's a door here! Nothing in here, never mind,"

"Look at all this sh-"

"He's not here,"

"Nope,"

"Nuh-uh,"

And then a loud, piercing scream that ripped through even the wall I was listening at. It could only be Umbridge. I ran down the tunnel as quickly as I could, afraid that in her tantrum she would somehow find my hiding place. I exited into one of the corridors on the third floor from behind a tapestry. I checked my watch. Quarter to nine, I was still allowed to be out of bed. I smoothed my hair and walked calmly back to my dorm, trying to ignore my thudding heart