"It's just a tiny cut, Professor, I'm fine," I insisted as a furious Lupin marched me toward Dumbledore's office, one of his hands wrapped around my arm and one around his wand tightly.

The explosion I'd caused had caught the attention of enough teachers that McGonagall and some of the others were standing guard of the Gryffindor Tower and searching the castle for signs of Black. Ghosts were flying past to alert everyone else, and the characters in the paintings were running between each other's canvas', shouting out crude warnings and whispering gossip. Lupin had insisted that Harry, Ron and Hermione stay in the Gryffindor Tower with McGonagall while he escorted me to Dumbledore, not that any of them thanked him for it. But honestly, I'd never seen anyone this angry before now, and I wasn't going to argue with him until he calmed down.

"I cannot believe that man's arrogance," Lupin spat, more to himself than to me as he dragged me down the corridor. I blinked, wondering whether I should bother telling him that he was hurting me more than Black had. "Breaking into the castle and assaulting a student!"

"Assault is a little exaggerated," I grimaced quietly, and he shot me a cool look that made me blink in surprise. Turning away again, he hauled me toward the gargoyle statue in front of Dumbledore's office, snapping the password irritably.

I had a funny feeling that my good mood had been interrupted permanently.

Lupin didn't even knock on the door before shouldering it open and hauling me inside. But the two of us froze at the sight of the Minister of Magic sat in a chair in front of Dumbledore's desk, obviously having been in deep conversation with the Headmaster himself, who was glancing between Lupin and me with a small frown.

"Remus," he said, slowly pushing himself to his feet. "Is there a problem?"

Lupin loosened his grip on my arm, giving me a pointed look and jerking his head toward Dumbledore. I shifted awkwardly. "Sir, it's Sirius Black. He's broken into the castle."

"What?" Fudge blurted, shaking on the spot as he faced drained of colour. "B-Black? H-H-Here?"

Dumbledore ignored him. "You saw him, Miss Williams?" I nodded slowly. "Where?"

"He was trying to break into the Gryffindor Tower, sir," I said, frowning slightly. "I was on my way back from detention with Snape and I heard him arguing with the Fat Lady. She started screaming and I went to help, but . . . well, I didn't really expect to run into an escaped convict, Professor. He took me by surprise."

"Understandable," Dumbledore nodded sternly. "Did he say anything to you?"

"No, sir," I answered, casting an awkward look in Fudge's direction. I didn't mind telling Dumbledore or Lupin that Black had completely freaked me out by knowing my name, but the Minister of Magic was a different thing entirely.

"Did he hurt you?"

"No."

"Yes," Lupin argued with a scowl. Without asking, he reached forward and tilted my chin upright to show Dumbledore and Fudge the tiny cut along my skin.

Fudge winced. "Oh my," he breathed, blinking once and clearing his throat. "How on Earth . . . ?"

"It isn't that bad," I shrugged. "I think he was just trying to keep me quiet."

"And I take it that didn't work?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes shining oddly over the rim of his glasses.

I managed a half smile. "No, Professor. I managed to get my wand back and pull free. That's how I got the cut. The only way I could think to get people's attention was by making a noise, so I blew up a suit of armour."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow as Fudge choked. Beside me, Lupin rolled his eyes. "You blew it up? Well, it got the job done, I suppose. Lupin, kindly escort Miss Williams to the hospital wing, then send a message to the teachers. All the students are to be moved to the Great Hall for the night, while we ensure that Black has gone. I do not expect him to linger, but better safe than sorry."

Lupin nodded, taking my shoulders and spinning me around. "Professor, I don't need the hospital wing," I insisted as he led me back out of Dumbledore's office. "It's a tiny cut, Madam Pomfrey will go mad! I spend plenty of time in there as it is without letting Black get the better of me."

He glanced sideways at me, pursing his lips. Carefully, he took his wand into one hand again and my chin in the other, holding the point of his wand an inch away from the cut. "Episkey!" Suddenly, the cut burned like someone had just put a match to it and I gasped in surprise, but before I could even think to ask Lupin if that was normal, the same cut ran freezing cold.

Lupin gave me a weak smile. "It's supposed to feel like that," he assured me. "I'll take you back to the Gryffindor Tower, but you're not to wander on your own, do you understand?" I nodded with a straight face, hoping he understood I was being serious. He sighed heavily, grimacing tightly and leading the way down the corridor once more.

The moment I stepped through the portrait hole, I was surrounded, and not just by people I knew. Everyone seemed to be struggling to get to me first and ask me a different question. Unfortunately, the first person next to me was Colin Creevey, a very irritating second year, who flashed his camera and grinned at me in excitement.

"Hey Artemis!" he squeaked. "Ron said you were attacked by Sirius Black but you beat him! Is it true?"

I shot an irritation look through the crowd at Ron. "Did he now?" I managed through gritted teeth.

"Back away, please Colin," Lupin instructed, stepping around me protectively and pushing the crowd back gently. They didn't go far, until Harry shoved his way through them with a scowl. "Ah Harry, perhaps it's best you, Ron and Hermione keep an eye on her for now. Oh, and Artemis? Be careful what you tell people."

"Yes, Professor," I nodded, scanning the crowd all whispering and pointing in our direction. Lupin gave me one last pointed look before turning and letting himself out again, making sure to talk to McGonagall on the way out. "I think I might have to borrow your Cloak," I muttered to Harry out of the corner of my mouth.

"Give it a few minutes and I might agree with you," he answered, taking my wrist and pulling me to the back of the room.

After that, McGonagall led us all to the Great Hall, where I was ambushed by even more people trying to figure out exactly what had happened. It took a while to convince people to leave me alone long enough to tell Harry, Ron and Hermione what had actually happened. None of them looked pleased, Harry least of all, but I didn't discuss it any more than necessary. Instead, I grabbed a sleeping bag and curled up for the night, praying that whatever mess Black had made would die down soon enough.

I was wrong, of course. As Dumbledore had predicted, Black had long since disappeared by the time the teachers knew he'd been there. Security was doubled, which unfortunately meant more Dementors. And suddenly, the large group of friends I used to love spending time with became insufferable, constantly asking me about Black and debating where he'd gone.

Unfortunately, the one thing I couldn't get out of was the last trip to Hogsmeade before the Christmas holidays. Despite handing my permission slip into McGonagall at the beginning of the year, I hadn't gone on any of the previous trips, convinced that Mia and Luke were testing my resolve. This time, however, Hermione and Ron had managed to talk me round, insisting that I find a suitable present for Mia, Luke and Rosie.

"Are you sure you'll be alright here?" Hermione frowned, glancing sideways at Harry as we made our way down to the Entrance Hall. Since the Quidditch accident and Black's attack, she'd been growing more and more protective of both me and Harry, constantly asking us if we were alright and refusing to leave us alone for more than a few hours at a time.

"I'm fine, Hermione," he responded wryly, rolling his eyes in my direction. My lips tugged, but I said nothing.

"We'll bring you back a Butterbeer," Ron grinned. "And chocolate from Honeydukes."

Something in Harry's eyes sparkled, and he nodded slowly. "Sounds good. I'll see you all later." Hermione and Ron smiled and nodded, turning to take the last few steps, but I hesitated, examining Harry's expression for a moment. He lifted an eyebrow. "What?"

"You're up to something," I said quietly, and his smile grew a fraction.

"Don't know what you mean," he shrugged.

I sighed heavily. "Don't get caught, Potter. No doubt Snape will find a way to rope me into too."

"Find a way?" Harry laughed. "I'll tell him it was your idea." I shot him an irritated look, ignoring his chuckle as I hurried to follow Hermione and Ron out of the castle.

I found the two of them with a large group of third years, consisting of Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil and her twin sister Padma, Neville Longbottom and a few other Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw kids I didn't recognise. All of them were talking excitedly about their plans for Christmas, the girls squealing irritably when the guys decided to start a snowball fight as we walked.

"You think Harry's really okay with all of this?" Hermione muttered at me, flicking a snowball away with a wave of her wand without actually looking. "You know, the tattoos and everything."

I raised an eyebrow, wondering if she'd actually realised she was even using magic as she chewed her bottom lip anxiously. "No, I know for a fact he's freaking out," I replied honestly. "But it's best to let him get on with it."

She looked startled for a second. "What? Shouldn't we say something to him? Shouldn't you?"

"If I start trying to make him see sense, if that's even possible right now, it'll only make things worse," I shrugged. "Right now, he's happy messing around and getting on Snape's nerves. Push him too far and he'll do something spectacularly stupid. Besides, there's no point getting worked up until we know what we're dealing with. We have enough on our plates with Black at the moment."

"You've calmed down a lot," she remarked, obviously irritated I wasn't as eager for answers as she was. I didn't reply to that one, but knowing I could still pull off calm when my breakfast was threatening to make a reappearance made me feel a little better.

The walk to Hogsmeade took longer than I had hoped. The snow covering the ground didn't help much, and most of the students ahead of us looked like they were getting cold enough to call it a day already. Our group, on the other hand, still seemed to be in good spirits. Lavender, Parvati and Padma were giggling between themselves, Ron, Seamus and Dean were trying to convince Neville to attempt flying lessons for the first time after his disastrous attempt in first year, and Hermione and I tagged along behind, kicking the snow beneath our feet.

"How long does it actually take to get there?" I called forward after another ten minutes of aimless walking.

Seamus glanced back at me with a grin. "Patience is a virtue, Arty," he called.

"Patience?" Ron snorted. "You know who you're talking to, right?"

I scowled, scooping a ball of snow into my hands and launching it at the back of his head. The guys burst into fits of laughter as it hit its target, causing Ron to gasp in shock and the girls to shriek and jump out of the way. "Silence is golden," I frowned at him as I passed.

"That's it," he grumbled, and before I could so much as blink, I'd caused an all-out war. Grinning, I grabbed a few handfuls of snow and ducked behind Hermione as Ron threw a far too accurate shot in my direction. She shrieked loudly, cursing my name and hurrying to move along with the other girls.

We were still launching snow through the air when we reached the village, laughing loudly as we staggered onto the street. A few Hogwarts teachers looked up at the sound, but just smiled wryly at us and turned away again.

"So, chocolate or Butterbeer first?" I grinned, shaking the snow out of my hair and throwing an arm over Hermione's shoulders.

She pursed her lips. "Chocolate," she said. "And no more snowball fights."

Laughing, I held my hands out in surrender. "Fine by me," I shrugged. She sighed heavily, but allowed me to loop my arm through hers and lead the way into Honeydukes chocolate shop. Inside, there were rows and rows of different colours and flavours of sweets, anything you could imagine. Ron instantly abandoned his body guard position and set to work trying to find the weirdest sweet he could. I, however, settled for finding the chocolate.

I stopped in front of the part dedicated to chocolate, taking my time to find out what each one was. In the end, I picked up a bar of chocolate caramel, my favourite, and joined the queue to pay for it. The second I'd paid for it, I tore it open and shoved a block into my mouth, moving to find Ron.

"You shouldn't be here," Hermione was saying, folding her arms across her chest. For a moment, I thought she was talking to me. But I stopped beside her, following her gaze.

I couldn't help smirking in surprise when my eyes fell on Harry, stood leaning against one of the displays casually. "Wow," I said, raising an eyebrow. "When I said I knew you were up to something, I thought it was going to be minor and stupid."

"But he had to go and outdo himself," Hermione glowered, folding her arms over her chest.

Harry smirked at us as I snorted. "I wouldn't go that far Hermione."

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Ron's voice came in shock. Harry turned to look at him, stood with his pockets bulging and his eyes wide. Slowly, his face split into a grin and he shrugged. "Don't really care mind. Hey, how about a Butterbeer? You have to try one!"

"You're encouraging this?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

I sighed dramatically, shaking my head with a wink. "It's like you don't know us at all," I sniffed. She gave me one of her usual, unimpressed looks, but when she saw I wouldn't back down, she sighed. I beamed at her, patting her back as we headed for the Three Broomsticks.

"So how did you get here?" Ron asked eagerly, handing Harry a large handful of sweets and we marched through the snow.

Harry's lips tugged into another smirk and he pulled out an old bit of parchment, waving us toward a quiet corner. Taking out his wand, he cleared his throat. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

"I am supposed to be surprised?" I chuckled as Ron laughed and Hermione rolled her eyes wryly. Harry winked, indicating toward the parchment that had suddenly just flooded with lines of ink.

"Is that . . . a map?" Hermione gasped.

"That's Hogwarts!" Ron exclaimed. "This is brilliant, Harry! Where'd you get it?"

"Fred and George," he laughed. "Apparently, they stole it out of Filch's office in their first year when they saw a drawer marked Confiscated and Highly Dangerous."

I snorted, but Ron's jaw dropped. "They never told me about this!" he moaned.

Harry clapped him on the shoulder. "Well now I am. It shows everything. Where everyone is, the secret passages, how to get out of the castle without passing the Dementors-"

"And if Sirius Black gets his hands on it, we're in trouble," Hermione argued with a scowl. "Harry, what if one of those passages is how he got into the castle? We should show Dumbledore, before he actually kills someone!"

"Even if Black got his hands on it, how would he know how to use it?" Ron frowned. "Besides, if Harry keeps it, then he'll always know if Black's near, right?" Harry nodded at him, but even I was starting to think this was a bad idea. Maybe Hermione was right . . .

Harry must have caught the indecisive look on my face, because he hurriedly stuffed the map into his pocket and changed the conversation. "Are we going to the Three Broomsticks or not? I'm freezing out here!" Hermione glowered at him, but Ron had already started pulling him toward the pub across the street. Sighing heavily, Hermione and I had no choice but to follow suit, though suddenly I found I couldn't stop my eyes scanning the area of any sign of Black.

"I'll get the drinks," Ron said, following Harry through the door and blushing a little as he caught sight of the barmaid.

"Madam Rosmerta," Hermione told me with a small, mocking smile. "Ron fancies her."

"I do not!" Ron complained, but his ears burned bright red. Laughing, Hermione led him toward the bar while Harry and I found a table by a large Christmas tree. Seating himself as close to the tree and as far out of sight as he could, he winked at me and took the map back out again as I sat down opposite him.

"Just be careful with that, would you?" I mumbled quietly.

"Not you too," he groaned. "It's perfectly safe to use."

"It isn't you using it that bothers me," I corrected sourly. "Hermione's right, Black obviously has a way into the castle no one knows about. What if he breaks in again?"

Harry scanned my expression and slumped further into his chair. "Fine. If Black breaks in again, I'll tell Dumbledore about the passages, okay? But I'm not doing anything until then." Figuring it was better than nothing, I nodded and sat back as Hermione and Ron came back, each carrying two Butterbeers in their hands.

"Cheers," I smiled at Hermione as she sat our drinks down in front of me, casting a cautious frown in Harry's direction.

"You really shouldn't be here, you know," she said worriedly. "What if Black's out there right now?"

"We're surrounded by people, Hermione," he answered softly. "He can't doing anything here."

"We didn't think he could break into the castle, either," she pointed out, but Harry wasn't for listening. Instead, he took up the Butterbeer Ron had handed to him and took a large gulp.

Unfortunately, a large group of teachers suddenly chose that exact moment to push the pub door open and step inside from the cold. Harry's face slacken in surprise and without a word, Ron shoved him under the table hurriedly, shooting Hermione and me an urgent look. My wand was out in seconds and I pulled the Christmas tree that was sat beside us closer to the table, shielding us from view.

"Told you so," Hermione mumbled moodily, twirling a strand of hair around her finger nervously as she watched the doorway. I didn't say anything, wondering why I suddenly wanted to grab Harry and run.

McGonagall, Hagrid, Flitwick and the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, entered the pub, and I felt my shoulders sag in exasperation. It was like the four of us were magnets for misfortune. Luckily, none of them looked in our direction as they headed toward the bar to order their drinks.

"Do you think these things happen on purpose?" Ron grumbled. "Like there's someone out there really trying to annoy the hell out of us?"

I scoffed darkly, shuffling in my place and taking a hesitant sip of my Butterbeer. "There's plenty of people like that, Ron, take your pick."

Hermione kicked me under the table. "In this case, I think it might just be bad luck." I pulled a face, but let the conversation drop and turned my attention to listening to what the teachers and Fudge were saying. They'd sat themselves at a small table toward the back of the room, watching as Rosmerta brought their drinks to the table.

"A small gillywater for Minerva, four pints of mulled mead for Hagrid, a cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella for you and the Minister's red currant rum," she was saying to Flitwick. Each of them said their thank-yous politely, taking their drinks as she handed them out.

"So what brings you here Minister?" Rosmerta asked with a sigh, as she sat down at the table with them.

Fudge groaned wryly, rubbing his face with his hands. "Sirius Black of course," he answered in undertone. "Would have thought the Dementors would have caught him by now. He's been seen around here too, you know. He even broke into the castle last weekend!"

Rosmerta gasped, but McGonagall shot Fudge an irritated look. "Yes, well Albus obviously wants it kept quiet," she frowned, straightening herself out importantly. "The poor girl he managed to grab is under enough pressure at the school with all the gossip let alone the Daily Prophet! Such a shame really, how he turned out. I remember him while he was at Hogwarts himself."

"Of course," Rosmerta laughed. "Always in here, him and his friends you know. If you'd have told me then he'd become what he is today, I'd have laughed in your face."

Fudge snorted sourly. "I think we all would have Rosmerta," he said sadly. "But we can't change the past, can we?"

There was silence for a moment, and I found myself shuffling on the spot under the tension. "I hear Remus Lupin is teaching up at the castle anyway," Rosmerta announced suddenly. Hermione gasped a little as Ron spluttered into his drink. I scowled at the two of them, pursing my lips and listening to the rest of the conversation intently.

"Yes," McGonagall said shortly. "What of it?"

Rosmerta immediately looked guilty, and I felt a pang of grim satisfaction. I found I didn't like the way she seemed to be accusing Lupin of something, especially where Black was concerned. The teacher was a lot of things, and very few – if any – were bad. "I just remember him being close to Black, that's all," she said in a small voice and something in my chest clenched tightly. "Didn't Black even marry his sister?"

Even I had to double take that, shooting Hermione a stunned gaze. She met my eyes with a gulp, shrugging ever so slightly. I wasn't entirely sure why I was so surprised I didn't know much about him, but the thought I knew so little made me eerily cold.

"Yes, he did," Flitwick said thoughtfully, frowning down at his drink in his hands. "She was a bright girl, Selena. Even brighter than Remus and he wasn't exactly stupid."

"Well, Black would have had to date someone like that," McGonagall said irritably. "He was always showing off."

"With friends like his, could you blame him?" Rosmerta laughed. "James Potter was the best at everything if you listened to a word he said."

If there was anything they could have said to make me feel worse, that was it. Without thinking, I immediately tried to slip under the table to check on Harry, but Ron's hands clenched around my arms to keep me on the spot. When my eyes found his, I wasn't curious, or angry, or even shocked. I was terrified. Utterly, and completely terrified. Not for me, I realised, but for Harry.

Sirius Black was a friend of his father. And now the same man was trying to kill him.

"They were like brothers Potter and Black," Fudge frowned, and my hand tightened around the wand in my pocket. "Nothing changed after Hogwarts either. That's why it's so horrible. He did the worst thing imaginable."

"What?" Rosmerta gasped, leaning forward.

"He handed the Potters to You-Know-Who," Fudge said dramatically.

I was on my feet in the same second, and it took both Ron and Hermione to pull me back down. My heart was thudding furiously in my ears as I glanced down at the tears forming in Hermione's eyes. "Please don't," she whispered, tugging my sleeve over the green tattoo embedded in my skin. Slowly, I lowered myself back down into the seat, all my muscles tensed like I was ready for a fight.

"What?" Rosmerta gasped again, and this time I could barely hear what was being said.

"And they made him Harry's godfather," Fudge added, like it was the easiest thing to say. I gulped hard, closing my eyes and tilted my head back on my seat. Hermione's hand slipped into mine, clenching it tightly.

"But they were so close at Hogwarts," Flitwick mumbled, obviously deeply disturbed.

"Quite the troublemakers too," McGonagall added disapprovingly. "Don't think Hogwarts has quite seen a pair like that since."

"I don't know," Hagrid chuckled. "Fred and George Weasley could give them a run for their money."

"And don't forget Harry and Artemis," Flitwick added cheerily.

Fudge's face darkened immediately. "That's what worries me I'm afraid," he said, scowling.

"Excuse me?" McGonagall asked, offended. "I'm the first to admit that neither of those two should ever be allowed near a Slytherin for the rest of their lives, but some of the things they've done! If it hadn't been for them last year, the school would probably be shut and Ginny Weasley would have died. And that's before I mention anything about their first year. Eleven years old they were when they saved the Philosophers Stone with Weasley and Granger. The pair of them even have awards for Services to the School."

Fudge debated his answer before he replied, drumming his fingertips anxiously against the table by his drink. "Did you know that Artemis Williams is adopted?" he asked quietly, and my blood ran cold.

"Of course I do!" McGonagall said indignantly. "She's in my house! I've even met her parents, Mia and Luke Williams. Very nice people, couldn't have hoped for a better family for her."

"No one knows exactly how she ended up with the Williams, and they always refused to come clean," Fudge continued disapprovingly. "I've asked Luke I don't know how many times. He works in the Department of Law Enforcement, you know, and sometimes I wonder if even he knows how Artemis ended up a Williams. But we know exactly where she came from, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't worry me slightly in this climate."

"What are you talking about?" Hagrid demanded gruffly. "Our little Arty is a brilliant witch, one of the best at Hogwarts if you ask me."

"Of course she is," Fudge sighed with a dismissive wave of his hand. "With parents like hers, it's no surprise."

Another silence descended, and there had never been another moment in my life when I hoped the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

"You've known who her parents are for this long and not told her?" Hagrid growled furiously, frowning down at the Minister.

"Do you think she should know that she is the daughter of Sirius Black?" Fudge said darkly.

I'd heard enough. Without stopping for Ron and Hermione, I pulled myself out of my seat and yanked the hood of my jacket over my head. My father was trying to kill my best friend, after already killing his parents. My heart raced, my blood boiled, my mind whirled, and I'd never been so aggravated in my entire life. Adrenaline seemed to be rushing through my veins, pleading with me to move, to run and never stop.

But all I could think about was Harry . . .

Taking a ragged breath and rearranging my expression, I forced myself to move straight toward the Minister's table, dropping my hood back to my shoulders. They were whispering in undertone now, and Flitwick was leaning so far forward, I thought he might fall off the edge. Hagrid was growing paler by the second, and even McGonagall looked like she was running out of air to breathe.

Shivers ran over my skin and my heart thudded far too quickly in my chest, but I pushed forward until the Minister looked up in my direction. His eyes widened a fraction and he hurriedly waved Flitwick away with a panicked look.

"Professor McGonagall," I smiled tightly, my voice sounding oddly level. The teacher stared at me, obviously trying to assess whether I'd heard anything or not. "Sorry for interrupting, but I was just wondering whether it was too late to put my name down for going home for the holidays?"

Fudge gulped hard and gave a nervous kind of laugh. "My dear, surely it's better to stay at the castle this year? Far safer for you there."

I gave a dark laugh, hoping none of them noticed my smile didn't quite reach my eyes. "Me, Minister? It isn't like Black's after me, is it?" I couldn't help relishing how awkward the atmosphere became, and I noted the sheer look of fear in Fudge's eyes with a grim satisfaction.

McGonagall cleared her throat. "I'm sure that will be fine, Williams," she said shortly. "I'll inform Dumbledore. There'll be plenty of room on the train for you tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, Professor," I replied. "Sorry again, for intruding." Turning, I ignored the looks I was receiving from Ron and Hermione and left the pub as quickly as possible. The forced calm I'd spoken with to the teachers and Minister was beginning to crumble, and I needed to be out of sight when it caved entirely.

I skidded to halt outside the door, closing my eyes and allowing the cold, brittle air to attack my skin and face. The pit of my stomach was squirming, and any energy I had had from the initial rush of adrenaline was quickly depleting. Gulping hard, I took a sharp breath and pushed myself onward again, weaving through the masses of students laughing and joking amongst each other. A few of the other students called out for my attention, including a very persistent Cedric Diggory, but I ignored them all and kept moving.

The moment I was out of Hogsmeade, I broke into a run, wincing awkwardly through my teeth as the freezing air instantly began to rip at my face. Still, I didn't slow any until I reached the gates of Hogwarts, where the Dementors were still guarding the grounds from Sirius Black. Their presence here had suddenly taken on a whole new meaning, as though the weight of every student who had ever felt uneasy around them was now firmly resting on my shoulders.

My father was causing this, and there wouldn't be a day that went past that I wouldn't despise him for it.

Without realising it, I'd ended up on the banks of the Black Lake, shielding from sight by the Forbidden Forest. The moment my feet stopped, my knees gave way and I crashed to the ground, for the first time in my life bursting into uncontrollable tears. Before, I'd always considered crying as just a way of showing everyone how weak you were, but now . . . it felt like someone had ripped my heart from my chest and stamped on it repeatedly.

I wasn't sure how long I stayed there, or how many tears leaked through my fingertips before I realised my forearm was burning. The long-sleeved, white shirt I was wearing was now stained red, and a numb weakness was beginning to take over. It wasn't until I heard footsteps behind me that I even tried to look up.

Harry was stood at the edge of the Forest, his face pale and his arm hastily bandaged. In the background, Hermione and Ron were hovering a few hundred feet away, both pale and unsure. But I barely noticed them. Instead, I was fixated on the scowl over Harry's face, the way his eyes couldn't rest on one of my features, or how I could see a flicker of doubt masked beneath the pain and suffering he'd always been so adept at hiding.

Taking a shaky breath, I wiped my eyes hurriedly and pushed myself to my feet. "I wouldn't worry about it," I managed to laugh humourlessly at him. "I'm out of here."

I strode forward, skirting around him, but his hand latched around my bleeding forearm and I couldn't help gasping in surprise. "Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes wide with fear, but Ron held her back before she could move forward.

Harry ignored her entirely, his eyes narrowed and boring into mine. "Did you know?" he questioned abruptly.

Anger swelled. "Does it look like I knew?" I snapped, yanking my arm back. "Think what you want, Harry, I'm too tired to care."

He snorted sourly. "Yes, finding out your father's a murder must be hard work."

Teeth grinding loudly, I slapped him hard before I could stop myself. "Don't ever talk to me like that again," I warned, my voice dangerously quiet. "I'm sick of people lying to me, hiding things from me, then blaming me when everything goes wrong. I can't stand how my happiness somehow relies on yours, like I'm not allowed to have my own life, and it makes me sick to think that people like Cornelius Fudge are gathered around a table in a pub somewhere gossiping about me like I'm the criminal!" My voice was gradually growing louder, but Harry's face never wavered. "The worst part is, I thought you of all people would've understood."

"Your father killed my parents," he snarled through his teeth.

"Which, of course, is my fault," I said, shaking my head and taking a few steps backward again from him. "It was probably even my idea, what with me being a year old and everything!" Harry's eyes flashed, but I was past caring. Shaking in fury, I wheeled around and strode straight toward the castle, ignoring Ron and Hermione's sympathetic looks on the way. The only thing that would help me now was answers.

And there was only one person I trusted enough to tell me the truth.