Hogwarts was in good spirits after the students spent the whole day in Hogsmeade. Holly hung from the walls, and large Christmas tree's sat in various places throughout the castle. The Great Hall, the common rooms, everywhere. Tomorrow, many students would be sent off back home to visit their families to enjoy the holiday with a well deserved break from school. For the time being, they were all gathered in the Great Hall, enjoying a farewell feast.

All except Oriane.

She sat in a window with her knees pulled to her chest in a hallway she had stumbled upon by accident. The common room and her dorm were too crowded for her emotions. She needed space to spread out. And so she found that tiny window in that tiny hallway.

It was much too dark outside for any of the scenery to shine, however the natural glow of the castle was enough to light the courtyard down below. Footprints tracked through the snow, showing the path of whoever walked through there that day. They were deep, almost leaving a terrible ugly scar on the courtyard. But it was snowing, and she knew by morning those footprints would be nothing but a distant memory.

Unbeknownst to her, a young boy approached her from down the hallway. His movements were slow, careful, and quiet, as to not disturb her. In his hand was a small bag made out of what appeared to be wax paper, along with a brown coat.

"Hey," said Harry, his voice soft.

Oriane turned her head, red eyes landing on him. Every move she made was slow; lethargic. Her exhaustion was seeping through her body, dripping off of her in puddles.

"How'd you find me?" she asked, voice raw.

Harry shrugged. "Got lucky." He stepped forward, closing up the large gap between them as he held out the items in his hand. "Figured you'd want your coat back."

She took her coat and placed it in her lap. However, Harry also held out the bag for her to take as well. Her eyebrows furrowed. "What's this?"

"Before I went looking for you, I found Cedric to ask him if he knew where you were," Harry explained, leaning against the wall. "He didn't know where you were at but said that you hadn't shown up for dinner at all. So he smuggled some food from the feast and put it in there for you. Asked me if I would give it to you if I saw you since he had to help some first years sort their stuff for the ride home tomorrow."

Peeking inside, Oriane found a wide assortment of food. Bread rolls and biscuits, a few slices of chicken that had been wrapped in more wax paper, even a well placed slice of pie from dessert. It was still warm.

"He's worried about you," Harry added, "and your roommates too. Apparently they're tearing up the castle trying to find you."

Oriane sighed as she pulled her knees closer to her chest. She sat the bag in front of her on the windowsill and then turned her attention back outside. "I didn't mean to worry them so much. This is all rather embarrassing."

"I understand," Harry said, his voice growing dark. "I think we're the only people in all of Hogwarts who understands our situations. Though, I suppose I'm a bit more angry than anything else."

"At which part?" she asked.

Harry's eyes darted outside, looking down at the dark, snowy courtyard below them. "All of it, I guess," he admitted. "I was never told about any of that and well… judging by your reaction, neither were you."

She gave him a half-hearted smile, but it dissipated as quickly as it came. "I want to be angry. I've tried to be angry." Her voice began to shake slightly, yet her eyes stayed as dry and stone cold as ever. "Not being angry feels like a betrayal to our parents' memories. But every time I think about what they said, all I can feel is this overwhelming sadness."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with that," Harry assured her. "Angry or sad, it's all the same."

"Yeah, except I can't make sadness work for me. I can at least put my anger towards something useful," she muttered. Once more her eyes landed on the boy in front of her. "Why didn't anyone tell us? I've known something was wrong for months, but no one would tell me anything. They kept this from us under the guise that they were protecting us but in the long run I think it only hurt us more."

Harry was quiet for a long moment as he thought about it. Would their lives have really been all that different if they had known earlier? No matter when they knew, it was the same pain, just at a different time. But they could have at leasted learned from the people they trusted most. Not a few professors and a stranger in a bar.

"It doesn't matter," he concluded. "It doesn't change anything. He's still a monster." Never before had Oriane seen Harry quite as upset as he was then. His green eyes clouded over with something unfamiliar, and she could nearly see the fire burning in his chest. "I hope he finds me."

Oriane shook her head. "What do you mean? Harry, he'll kill you if he finds you."

"I don't care," he said through gritted teeth. "Someone has to make him pay. He's been rotting in Azkaban for years, but that isn't enough."

Unable to stand looking at him any longer, Oriane turned her attention back out the window. What was she supposed to say to that? Denying him his anger was wrong, but he would get himself killed with that sort of logic.

"He's trying to kill you too, you know," Harry continued, voice now softer. "Wouldn't you feel safer if he were gone?"

"Harry, I-" she stopped, choking on her words. "I don't think Black's death would bring us any closer to safety. As long as You-Know-Who strikes fear into the hearts of the innocent, there's always going to be someone around who will carry out his ideals. Black, the Death Eater who killed my father… they're all still out there somewhere."

His expression immediately softened. Any anger or malice he was holding from before immediately melted off of his body. "I guess it goes both ways," he admitted. "There might be someone always out to get us but it seems like there's always someone here to protect us, too."

Those words were blatantly different from the ones he was speaking earlier. Even his tone caught her off guard. Perhaps he didn't want to upset her, or maybe he was attempting to make her feel better. Either way, Oriane smiled up at him, grateful for it nonetheless.

The bells in the tower began to chime, signaling that it was getting quite late. Oriane threw her legs away from her, pushing herself onto the floor. With her coat and food in hand, she looked up at Harry with a tired smile. "Guess we ought to get headed to bed then."

And they were off. Quietly walking down the hall, not speaking a word to one another. It was difficult to tell if their conversation made her feel better or not, but for the time being Oriane wasn't worried about what she learned that day.

Eventually the two came to a set of stairs, which is where they would part ways. The castle was eerily quiet, something she had never experienced before. Yet, she didn't mind. The quieter it was, the less people she had to deal with.

"Before you go," Harry said as they stopped at the stairs, "I was meaning to ask you this but, was your mother really a Seer?"

Of course he would ask that question. It was the only really odd thing the Minister and professors had mentioned. Well, odd by the standard of a wizard, anyway. "I don't know," she admitted. "It was the first time I had ever heard anyone say that."

Harry nodded. "So, you don't get any visions then?"

She froze. Though he had asked about her mother, she hadn't expected him to turn the question to her and what she was capable of. Sure, she had a few visions, but she wasn't certain it was to the same extent of what her mother saw. With how her professors explained it, she seemed like a powerful asset to their cause. As for Oriane? She was lucky if her visions made sense half the time.

If she was a Seer, she certainly wasn't as good as her mother.

"No," she confirmed, "no visions."

"That might be for the best," Harry said with a hum. "If Minister Fudge was right…"

"Yeah," Oriane agreed. "It probably is."

Her food had gone cold by the time she reached the entrance to the common room, but she didn't mind. After knocking on the barrels outside of the entrance, they quickly moved to the side, allowing her access. She clambored through the round hole where she was greeted by a dying fire and a dark figure.

She had gotten so used to the shape of him that she didn't even need to look closer to figure out it was Cedric. He sat in one of the chairs, still in the clothes he wore throughout the day, a small book in his hand. However, he wasn't paying attention to his book. Instead, his eyes were on her.

"Hey," she greeted him with a timid smile.

Relieved to see her face was no longer stained with tears, Cedric smiled back. "I take it Harry found you?" he asked, pointing to her bag.

She carefully walked over to the chair across from Cedric. They had been in the very same position hardly a month ago before the first quidditch game. It seemed to be sort of an odd habit the two were getting into. Not that she minded all that much.

"You didn't have to do this," she said, reaching into the bag and pulling out a roll of bread.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright," Cedric said. He watched her carefully as she ripped the roll in half to eat it. Smiling, he closed his book and leaned back in the chair.

"Thank you, by the way. For everything," she said, eyes focused on her roll. "And I'm sorry for worrying you."

Cedric shook his head, gaze meandering to the dying coals of the fire. "You have nothing to apologize for. We all have bad days. I'm just glad I was here to help when you needed it."

A soft silence stood between the two of them as Oriane continued to eat. In reality, she wasn't even really all that hungry, but letting Cedric's kindness go to waste felt like a betrayal to his generosity.

"Look," Cedric suddenly spoke, his eyes on her once again, "you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to share. What happened today really isn't any of my business. But… I guess for future reference, just know that you can always come to me. And not just because I'm a prefect. Come to me as a friend."

He wasn't angry. If anything, he sounded scared. What of, she couldn't say. But an immense wave of guilt suddenly overtook her body. This boy had seen her running out of a pub in tears. He found her on the cold ground in the dead of winter without a coat. He did everything within his power to help her, and yet she couldn't even bring herself to tell him what had happened.

But before she could answer him, the familiar sound of creaking wood came from down the entrance. Moments later, all three of her roommates appeared. They looked exhausted, as if tired from a day full of fun. But the moment their eyes landed on her, Emerald was quick to stomp over to her.

"Where have you been?" she asked, standing in front of Oriane with her arms crossed. The very sight of her was terrifying. It was as if she had angered a bear. "We've been worried sick about you all day! We saw you from inside Zonkos! You came out of the Three Broomsticks a sobbing mess and then disappeared down the trail after that! We've been searching for you for hours! You had us worried sick!"

Charlotte, who seemed significantly less upset than Emerald was, gently placed her hand on her shoulder. "Calm down, Emi," she said. "Everything's fine."

"Everything's not fine!" Emerald shouted, shrugging Charlotte's arm off of her. "You ran away from us and started traveling alone! You do know Sirius Black was sighted near Hogsmeade, right? And after him being in the castle on Halloween… You could've gotten hurt!"

The more she spoke, the more her words began to shake. Her dark green eyes quickly became outlined with lines of red as tears threatened to spill over. She sat herself down on the sofa in the empty spot next to Oriane, bottom lip quivering. Then, without warning, she threw her arms around her, slightly crushing the bag of food between their bodies.

"Don't ever run away like that again," Emerald sobbed.

Oriane sat there with wide eyes as the girl continued to cry on her shoulder. It was odd having so many people around her begging for her to let them help. Everything in her was screaming no. That she shouldn't let them in. That it would be best for her to figure everything out on her own. Yet there was that terrible sinking feeling in her stomach.

How was she supposed to say no when tears soaked her shoulder?

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I won't do it again."