Hi! I don't own. I have also decided on Harry/Celia. I'm really sorry to the people who put effort into helping me find other people. Thanks to all the reviewers!

Don't own.

(AN: I'm pretty sure you know the POV is Celia now)

I hoped Tom was okay. He hadn't gotten back to me since Voldemort had called him.

I appreciate you caring about me, but I think this, um, image of you is rather strange to be in your mind right now. I looked down. Half-dressed, I hadn't even pulled on my robes the right way.

Sorry! Look away! I pulled the robes on.

Already did. I think I'll let you get dressed before I come back. I saw him hide his smirk but I didn't feel his presence leave.

Really? How am I supposed to get dressed like that? I closed my eyes and imagined a barrier shove him out. A yelp and the familiar feeling of him leaving told me it had worked, surprisingly.

After I got dressed, I lifted the barrier. Then I realized that I was surprisingly tired.

Tom was gasping and he glared at me. You could have given me a warning! How would you like it if a wall suddenly slammed into you? I'm in your mind, so the things you try just might work!

I smirked and followed my dad to the dining room. I honestly wasn't expecting it to work.

You can't stay silent with your father and your friends. It seems suspicious. I looked up and realized he was right. Dad was shooting me looks, his face a mixture of, 'Is this a trick?' and 'this is too good to be true, she's QUIET!'

"Sorry. Just tired." I faked a yawn, which turned into a real one, because of my recent barrier-thingy.

Luckily, he bought it, and I grinned behind his back, not watching where I was going.

Careful-ow! I crashed into the edge of the stairs and muffled a cry of pain. Walking as casually as somebody could just after they hurt themselves, I tried to pretend nothing had happened.

Why'd you say 'ow'? I'm the one who bashed into the staircase edge!

Unfortunately, I can feel what you feel-physically, not emotionally, calm down-and maybe, I'm not sure, taste what you taste-which is why all you should be tasting is food, okay?

I rolled my eyes. What else would I taste besides food?

He smirked again, dark eyes mischievously laughing. Don't you like Potter? You'll need to warn me to leave the next time you…make a move.

Ew! I'm beginning to regret letting you in my mind. Why are you leafing through my memories anyways? I DON'T LIKE HARRY! Gods, we just barely became friends!

Well, you think about him fairly enough, a bit more than your other friends, so I catch on to snippets.

I do not! Okay, get out. I waved at the trio, and slipped into a seat next to Harry. Dimly Tom whistled under his breath.

He slipped to the back of my mind, so I was aware of him, but not fully aware. Pansy was trying to snog Draco again, so I didn't want to interrupt their "romantic" morning-Tom snorted at that-.

"Did you hear? The Fat Lady's portrait was ripped up by Sirius Black! He's in the building, probably right now!" Ron looked freaked out.

I gasped. "Really? Is-is she okay?"

Ron's eyes bugged out. "Are you crazy? Are YOU going to be okay? We aren't safe here! Dementors…Black on the loose…"

Harry, on the other hand, was excited. "Quidditch match soon!" His grin was contagious.

Yet, for the next few days, the whole school was buzzing about Sirius Black. I couldn't go through one classroom without hearing the words, "Sirius Black". Even Tom was getting annoyed; and he left occasionally.

The Fat Lady's canvas had been replaced by this weird portrait of some fat pony and a dude named Sir Cadogan. Ron was always complaining since Sir Cadogan thought up really complicated passwords and changed them really quickly.

The rest of the teachers were really oblivious to the fact that the trio and I pretty much knew that Harry was being chased by Sirius Black, and Professor Mcgonagall even summoned Harry to tell him about it.

Oliver Wood, the quidditch captain, blurted out tips to Harry all the time, and it was becoming extremely annoying.

"Harry!" Oliver called as we made our way to Defense Against The Dark Arts, which was really awesome. I muttered to Harry, "Here comes your frantic fangirl," and offered him an apologetic smile, ditching him.

I entered the class and did a double take. What the bloody hell was Dad doing here? I thought he taught potions?

Full Moon tonight, remember? Tom reminded me. I hurried to my seat and the realization dawned on me. Oh. But does it have to be my dad? This is so awkward…I can't even concentrate on potions…

Tom snickered and smoothed back his hair, sinking back in the back of my mind. After about ten or fifteen minutes, Harry burst through.

"Sorry I'm late, Professor Lupin, I-" The look on Harry's face was priceless, I guffawed quietly in my textbook. After Dad docked ten points from Gryffindor, Harry earned himself another loss of five points for not sitting down, until Dad threatened fifty.

Harry sunk down in his seat next to me, shooting me a curious look. I shrugged.

"-Today we shall discuss-" Dad sunk his nose through the textbook and flipped through a bunch of pages-"-werewolves."

My eyes widened, and I shot him a glare, which he seemed to accept with satisfaction. ARE YOU CRAZY?! I wanted to shout. This was not happening.

He made us all flip to page 394 and after asking a question, called Hermione a know-it-all. Ron defended her, which I thought was extremely cute and weird at the same time, and then Dad gave Ron detention.

Oh, did I mention I was glaring daggers at him the entire time? Yeah, no effect AT ALL.

After class, Ron was breathing deeply and clenching his fists. "I can't believe I have detention! Why couldn't Black have finished him off for us?"

"You really hate him that much?" I sniggered, already knowing the answer as his face turned a deep shade of red.

"Yeah! Don't you? Oh-wait. Right. But still!" Ron growled, and I rolled my eyes.

HHHHPPPPOOOO

"You really had to call Hermione a know it all?" I asked as I pulled out some parchment for homework.

"You really need detention, too?" He snapped back. I rolled my eyes and pulled out the DADA book.

"With Ron? Would that be a punishment?" I grinned slyly at his slightly bewildered look.

"I'll think of something." He threatened, but I was unfazed as his left eyebrow twitched in surprise, tipping off his demeanor.

HHHHPPPPOOOO

I fixed on the gold-red headband, and tossed a half-hearted glance at the mirror. Mostly I was wearing Gryffindor colors, but I had added a green emerald flower on the side of the headband, and of course my robes, in case Draco decided to complain.

Dad raised an eyebrow at the teacher's side of the Quidditch-stadium?-at my clothes but didn't say anything.

I sat down next to Hermione, groaning at the pouring rain. We shared a cloak, until I realized that dementors were-

"Harry!" I screamed. Hundreds of dementors were storming Harry, and he was headed right towards me; I was close to the top; I needed to get to him, so I grabbed the edge of his broom when he crashed into me; a chill ran over me, and everything was eerily silent.

"CELIA!" Harry screamed, and grabbed me, well, hoisted me, up on his broom wildly.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl…stand aside, now…"

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead-"

Who's-who's memories were this? I fought back bile as the woman's screams filled the air…

"Not Harry! Please…have mercy…have mercy…" I weakly clamped my hands over my ears, and suddenly I passed out.

HHHPPPPOOOO

It hurt. My whole body hurt; it ached, like the time I had slipped while fixing the greasy roof of our house as it rained.

"You need to wake up." Tom was sitting cross-legged, looking a bit nervous.

"What was that? Did-did you hear?" I was shaking.

Tom looked grim, and he winced. "Yes. I heard everything. It was Harry's mum, I think. When you got snagged up, you somehow saw his memories."

I opened my mouth, but he cut me off. "You're dad's worried sick. He's stopped by five times, and Potter's muttering how it's all his fault and such. Wake up, and then we'll talk." He groaned. "I'm aching…that was terrible…"

Gasping, I rolled over and sat up, every nerve in my body screaming with ache. I groaned and heard a relieved voice say, "You're awake, bloody hell, I'm so sorry, this is all my fault-"

Harry was looking extremely disheveled and he was a mess. He scrambled off his bed, ignoring my protests, and lugged a bag with him.

"I'm so sorry, really-" He looked ready to beat himself up.

"No, it's not your fault, calm down-" I tried to soothe.

He shook his head. "If I hadn't catapulted into you, and the Nimbus just caught you, I shouldn't have grabbed you like that, you were just hanging on the broom, I'm sorry-"

"HARRY! CALM DOWN!" I said louder, but it didn't work this time. I felt Tom's humorous smile and he slipped back, not away, but just back.

"But-the dementors, I'm so sorry, Celia, really, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, you could have gotten hurt, you were unconscious for the entire day, I bet you're sore, I'm so sorry-" He was REALLY beating himself up.

I didn't even think; I just had to stop him. In a split second, I leaned forward and pressed my lips firmly to his.

Finally! I have been waiting for this moment. I was going to have them kiss when they went broom-riding, then when they were in Celia's room, and now, I feel like this was the best time.