PineappleBearr: Thanks for reviewing! I'm a bit sad about the McGonagall moments as well, but at least she knows who she is again. Sorry you were getting impatient! I will take your advice and combine some chapters later though, so thanks for drawing that too my attention

Ldub: Thanks for reviewing! Yeah, I've kind of enjoyed mapping out how I'm going to make them act throughout their time with Charlotte!

Guest: Thanks for reviewing!

Hawknest143: Thanks for reviewing! I feel bad for her too. I wish she wasn't so afraid to let people get near her again, but you're right that she'd be way worse off if she lost anyone else, especially if she lost them any time soon. But she does definitely need someone she can talk to. Hopefully she'll find someone

LaNuitaDesOreilles: Thanks for following!

CHAPTER 17

I make it a point to leave late for breakfast the next morning and to sit at the far end of the table so as not to have any conversation with anyone. The farther I can push them away, the less likely they are to go to Azkaban. I seem to have offended the first-years—second-years—pretty badly, for not a single one of them even looks at me. Daphne, on the other hand, seems that much more determined to break me. She seems to have recruited Astoria and Malcolm to help her stop me from pushing all of them away, so I do my best not to look over at them. As much as I want things to be good between all of us, as much as I want someone like them to talk to, I cannot risk their lives. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anything happened to any of them because of their association with me.

The minute I finish my breakfast, I stand abruptly and head to McGonagall's classroom for Transfiguration. But I don't enter early. Instead I stand just around the corner until roughly three minutes before class is to start. I take a seat in the back next to Theodore Nott. He looks over at me, his eyes searching over my face. "How are you? I heard rumors over the holiday."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"My father told me about the meeting at the manor." He swallows. "I didn't realize what exactly you're—"

"Stop talking," I whisper.

McGonagall meets my eye for all of two seconds before I look down at my hands. Apparently we'll be learning Conjuration for our N.E.W.T. exams. Which means this doesn't really matter much to me because I've learned a good deal of this already from McGonagall. I drop my head into my arms and close my eyes.

I want this year to be over already.

I startle awake when someone pinches my arm. I look over at Theodore. "Don't go to sleep," he whispers frantically. "McGonagall's already glared at you three times. We have twenty minutes left."

He seems concerned, but all I can do is glower at him. Unfortunately this doesn't affect him, and he just turns his attention back to the professor.

It takes all of twelve seconds before I rest my head back on my arms. Though I won't admit it, having people around me in broad daylight like this makes it less horrifying to try to sleep. And I'm so exhausted. I didn't sleep last night, not that I'm surprised. But I do wish I could rest like I did at Zoe's. I just want some sleep.

A loud thwack on the table by my face jolts me awake, and I jerk upright. "Rodgers, see me after class," McGonagall demands.

I scowl at her until she moves back to the front of the room. Theodore, though I don't look at him, watches me with an annoying amount of concern. I don't move at all while the rest of the students march from the room when the class ends. McGonagall eyes me from her desk. "Come up here, Rodgers."

I clench my jaw. She could go to Azkaban. "I believe I can hear you from here, Professor."

"Rodgers."

A wave of guilt washes through me, and with a loud, annoyed sigh, I rise from my chair and slowly approach her desk, my face made of stone. "I'm sorry I fell asleep in your class. It won't happen again. Well, I'll try not to let it—"

"What's happened to you?"

"You mean other than Lord Voldemort violating me with Dark Magic?" Part of me wishes I could feel guilty about snapping at her, but it feels good to be angry and to let this anger out. Even if I'm letting it out at the wrong person.

"I realize you've been through much more than anyone should have to go through, but I still expect your respect and—"

"Well, I expect to someday be free of the Dark Lord, but we can't all get what we want, can we? Can I leave?"

"Rodgers—"

"What?"

"Twenty points from Slytherin. I will not tolerate this sort of disresp—"

Something shatters in me, and I start laughing before I can stop myself. "Oh no, twenty points, what a shame. House points are just such a—"

McGonagall rises to her feet, and I cower away at the angry look in her eye, a sharp fear stabbing my heart. "Detention!"

Something about fearing her sets off a burning anger in me, one that I've never thought would be directed at her. But here we are. I'm afraid of her in this moment, and that almost makes me want to hurt her. "You really think detention matters to me when once a month I'm to be forced to undergo the Dark Lord's magical attempt to impregnate me?"

Her eyes widen slightly. "Once a mon—"

"It doesn't matter," I quickly interrupt, frustrated at myself now for letting that slip out. I need to get out of here as soon as possible. "When do I have detention?"

"Rodgers—"

"I have to get to my next class, just answer my question."

"Tonight after dinner will be your first detention."

I storm from her room, plowing through a large group of first-years waiting for their Transfiguration class. I stalk down to the Slytherin Dungeon, where I hide away, skipping lunch and Charms and hours of free time and dinner. Not once do I leave my bed after I've curled under my blankets. Not once do I doubt my decision to hide from everyone. Not once do I have any desire to go to class or mingle with anyone or do anything, really, now that I am safe and secure in my bed. Nothing can go wrong when I'm in here. No one can hurt me. Lying alone in my bed in the dormitory of Hogwarts is one of the safest places I will ever be again. And even now I'm not that safe because of the Death Eaters wandering around the castle.

Dementors are chasing me, arms reached out toward me, trying to grab me. They're going to Kiss me, and I'm going to die. I come to a dead end and turn to face the three dementors coming toward me, their mouths open, my body turning cold. I try to cast a Patronus, but no memory is happy enough. I start screaming, begging for help. No help comes. The closest dementor stretches its arm toward me, its mouth sucking in air. Its hand comes to a rest on my shoulder and—

Someone shakes me a way, and I sit up violently, gasping for air and thrusting my wand into Daphne's chest. She doesn't flinch or act the least bit shocked or afraid. "You were having a nightmare."

"What's it to you?" I remove my wand. "What do you want?" I rub my eyes, trying to wake myself up. The dementors are not here, Charlotte. They cannot get you inside Hogwarts.

"Professor McGonagall sent me to fetch you."

I sigh and lie back down.

"Charlotte, you have to go."

"Fine," I huff. I force myself to roll out of my bed, then flatten down my hair and head for the door.

"Charlotte, why don't we talk about—"

"No." I close the door behind me, leaving her in the seventh-year girls' dormitory. None of the rest of my friends try to get my attention as I exit the common room. Only Astoria attempts to catch my eye, but I do nothing to communicate with her.

I've only just got out of the dungeons when I hear Alecto somewhere behind me ask, "Is there a reason you went missing again, Miss Rodgers?"

I glance over my shoulder to find her following me. "I have my reasons. I wasn't feeling well. Leave me alone."

Alecto doesn't look too pleased, but something in my face must warn her that I'm not in the mood for conversation or explanations. She turns a corner and disappears. There are no more disturbances as I make my way to McGonagall's office. I knock once and enter when she calls out that I can. "Well, I'm here. So what'll I be doing for this detention?"

She's quiet for a moment. "I'll give you the choice. You can either clean the floors and the desks, or you can sit here at my desk, eat a biscuit, and talk to me about what—"

"I'll clean."

"Rodgers, you—"

"It's my choice. You said so yourself."

McGonagall nods, resigned to my choice, and waves her wand. A bucket of warm water and a sponge appear on the floor in front of her desk. I do not make eye contact with her again as I scrub the floors clean, nor does she speak to me throughout the detention. Even as I leave her office, we do not say a word to one another.

"Enter."

I open the door leading into the headmaster's office. Snape is sitting in Dumbledore's old chair. His office is relatively the same as Dumbledore's had been, almost as if he hadn't had the heart to change anything about it. "Evening," I say.

"Evening. Did you need something?"

"Well, I…I was wondering when I can begin the lessons…you know, to resist the Imperius Curse," I say.

"Ah, yes, I was wondering when you were going to come asking—"

"It's only been a day," I interrupt. Just seeing him makes me feel slightly better about my day. Being around him makes this whole mess seem…easier somehow.

"We will begin next Sunday and will continue our lessons each Sunday until you've mastered it," he says.

"Only on Sundays?"

He nods.

"But that only gives me three lessons before…" I drift off when I look around at all of former headmasters in the room who are pretending to sleep. I'm sure they've heard already, but I don't want to talk about it in front of them.

"I realize that," he says gently. "But there are things that I must do as headmaster. I don't have as much spare time as I did last year."

"But—"

"Charlotte, I'm sorry. There's nothing more I can do." He hardly glances at me. "But right now I'm afraid you must go. There are things I must attend to."

I know I should obey him and leave, but I don't want to. I want to remain in his office with him, but then again I don't really want to do that either because, despite how unreasonable it is, I'm suddenly angry with him in ways I haven't been in months. My situation is important enough for him to find more time to teach me how to resist the Imperius Curse, and it bothers me that he can't, even though I know that he isn't doing this on purpose. He would help me more often if he could, so why do I feel so upset with him?

No words pass through my lips as I exit his office and make my way down to the Slytherin Dungeon, silent tears pricking my eyes.

"Students are not allowed to wander the corridors at night," I hear.

I turn my head to where the sound came from. "Who's there?"

Amycus Carrow comes out of the shadows. "Students are not allowed out of bed." Light comes from the tip of his wand, and his face drops. "Rodgers," he says nervously. "I didn't realize."

"It's fine," I say kindly, though I wish I could hex him. "I was just speaking with Snape."

"So he knows already?"

"Knows what?"

"That Potter and his friends were seen in the Ministry of Magic earlier today. Yaxley nearly caught them," he says.

Why would the three of them doing something so reckless? "That is not what we were speaking about," I say. But it is certainly a good thing to know. "I'm not sure if he knows, come to think of it."

He nods, a strange look on his face. "I guess I should let him know then." He seems to like the idea of being important. "Carry on your way."

"I won't be punished for being out of bed?"

"You? No."

I spin around and head back toward the Slytherin Dungeon, my annoyance fading at the lack of lessons with Snape and being replaced with pride at the fact that the Carrows fear me. Well, I guess they don't technically fear me; they fear Voldemort's punishment if they treat me badly. But still, it's a nice thought.

The second-years, Daphne, Astoria, and Malcolm are at one of the tables chattering away when I arrive, but I don't go over to them. Instead I take a seat on the sofa in front of the fire, not wanting to go back to my bed just yet, not wanting to be alone in that room right now. If dementors attack, there are more wands down here. Dementors cannot attack within the walls of Hogwarts.

No one disturbs me. I rest my head back on the sofa and close my eyes, reining in my emotions and doing my best to calm down before I have to go to the dormitory alone.

My tranquility is ruined moments later when two warm bodies squeeze on either side of me. I crack open my eyes to find both of the Greengrass sisters shoulder-to-shoulder with me. "Don't," I sigh.

"We're not doing anything," Astoria says innocently. "But Christopher has something he'd like to say to you."

I glance over at the second-years and Malcolm who are all awkwardly sitting on the floor in front of the sofa. "My mum wants you to come to Christmas at our house," he says bitterly. "But if you don't want to, I guess I can't really convince you otherwise, can I?"

I move to stand up, but Daphne quickly grabs my upper thigh and holds me down. My heart suddenly aches, an emptiness in my gut nauseating me. I miss Zoe. I want her to be here with me, but that can never be. I take a short breath and meet Daphne's eyes before grabbing her hand with mine and removing it from my leg. "Don't do that, don't touch me," I whisper. "Don't touch me."

"Charlotte," Astoria says kindly, "we care about you. We want to talk to you. We want to help you."

I look at Astoria through blurry eyes and inhale weakly, refusing to break down in front of all of them. "I don't want to talk," I struggle out.

"Charlotte—"

"No." I stand up, this time Daphne doing nothing to stop me, and leave the room, retreating to the dormitories. My bed is warm and welcoming despite the fact that I didn't want to retreat here just yet, and I slide under the sheets. I hate pushing away the people I care about, but I will never forgive myself if any of them end up in Azkaban because of me. I pull my pillow in front of me and hug it to my chest, hiding my face into it to muffle my sobs.

Two arms slide around me from behind, and my sobbing becomes louder. "I don't know what's going on with you, Charlotte," Daphne whispers to me, "but you don't have to go through it alone."

Of course I have to go through it alone, but she can't know that. Her arms tighten, but I do not try to force her away from me. I let myself enjoy the fact that someone still cares for me without wanting anything in return.

I fall asleep that night in Daphne's arms, feeling comfortable and safe for the first time in what feels like a lifetime, since my stay in Azkaban.

When I awaken the next morning, Daphne is gone and my bed feels cold. I force myself out of bed to start the day.

Today is the first day of our new Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Amycus Carrow, and I am in no way looking forward to it. I do not trust him.

But until that class comes, I have no choice but to go to the Great Hall for breakfast, during which I do my best to avoid the second-years and the Greengrass sisters and Malcolm, none of whom make any attempt to speak with me. I'm grateful that they're willing to ignore me, and I almost feel guilty about how grateful I am.

Pansy and Draco's old gang surround me at the table, and I groan inwardly. "What do you want?"

"Oh, nothing," Pansy says. "I just thought I'd ask how you're doing."

"I'm doing swell, thanks. I'd be better if you would walk away and leave me alone." I glance up at the staff table and try to will Severus to arrive. He does not.

"To think," Pansy giggles cruelly, "I spent so much time trying to make your life miserable and all I had to do was wait for you to do it yourself. You've done a much better job than I ever could have done." She winks at me and moves down the table.

Voldemort is making my life miserable. I take one last swallow of orange juice, push away my plate of food that is more than half full, and stand to leave the Great Hall. No one attempts to stop me, and for that I'm wildly thankful. I do not try to visit Severus—I'm still frustrated with him for not finding more time for us to work on the Imperius Curse.

It's a few short hours later that I'm standing in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, which as Neville so boldly pointed out a few moments ago is basically just a Dark Arts class. "I won't do it," the boy declares defiantly, his eyes full of fire.

Amycus clenches his fists. It's the first real class and already this professor has decided that it is time for us to learn the Cruciatus Curse, except we're not just learning about it, as Snape taught us, but we're supposed to use it on a first-year who is serving detention. I can't help but wonder (and kind of admire) a kid who can get a detention in the first days of classes.

"What did you say?" Amycus growls, his wand twitching in his hand, itching for the chance to attack Neville.

The Gryffindor in question squares his jaw, holds his head high, and repeats, "I will not do it."

Amycus's nostrils flare, and dread fills me. "Would you rather serve the detention for him?" His voice is cruel and cold, and even I know that the offer is not real but is rather a way to antagonize Neville.

Not once does Neville look away from Amycus's dark eyes. He straightens, walks to the first-year serving his detention, and stands in front of him. "Yes."

The Death Eater's lip twitches. "What a shame," he says. "Unfortunately, you cannot serve the detention for him, but you can have a detention with him."

"I will," Neville says. Then he places a comforting hand on the shoulder of the quivering blond-headed Hufflepuff boy, a quiet word of consolation passing from Neville to the child.

"Goyle!" Amycus commands, not tearing his eyes from the two students in detention. Goyle steps forward, smiling cruelly, and goes to stand beside the Death Eater. "You know what to do."

The boy raises his wand. "Crucio!"

Neville's scream echoes around the room, the little first-year's shrieks of terror meshing with the sound of Neville's pain. The brave son of the two fallen Aurors collapses to the floor, his body convulsing under the curse. Amycus pays no heed to the students around the room who are shouting for Neville's release. My mind wanders to Bellatrix and the time that she Cruciated me on behalf of the Dark Lord, and something in me breaks. I would have given anything if someone could have stopped my pain, so I have no right to sit here and listen to Neville's.

I storm forward, dodging around the few students in my way, and shove Goyle to the floor. "Enough!" I shout. Immediately I regret my actions. My hand clasps over my mouth, and my eyes meet Amycus's startled, furious face.

"Telling me how to run my classroom?" he snarls.

"No, I'm telling you to spare the sanity of a pureblooded wizard."

The man's lip curls. Both Goyle and Neville get back up to their feet. Amycus does not look away from me when he says, "The next one, Goyle."

Goyle smiles at me viciously before turning his wand to the young boy. "Crucio!"

Another round of shrieks ring through the room, but it's not the shriek of the child. Once again it's Neville screaming in pain. I'm bracing myself to tackle Goyle when I realize that he did not mean to hit Neville with the curse. Neville has jumped in front of it, taking it on behalf of the Hufflepuff boy. Goyle registers this a moment later and releases the curse. Amycus stalks forward, grabs Neville by the back of his robes, and shoves him to the group of students standing to the side.

I have to turn my head and close my eyes as the little boy is punished with the Cruciatus Curse.

We file out of the class quietly after that, and I catch up to Neville. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "I should've done more."

He glances at me. "Why did he not punish you for that? Why did he listen to you?"

I sigh. "Neville, there's a lot going on that—"

"Don't give me that excuse," he cuts me off. "I need to know. How can I be sure I can trust you when the Carrows seem reluctant to punish you?"

"I'm a Slytherin," I say. "Maybe they're trying to spare us."

He clenches his jaw. "I doubt he would allow you to get away with such blatant disrespect to him and his class, regardless of your House. You're lying to me, Charlotte."

"Listen," I say evenly. "If you knew the truth, you would simply be in more danger than you already are."

"You think I care about danger, Charlotte?"

"I know you don't, but I care if I put you in more of it."

He sighs. "Professor McGonagall trusts you, doesn't she?"

"She does," I confirm. Though how much longer she'll trust me due to my current inaction in her class and my rudeness to her in general is anyone's guess.

"I'll trust her judgment for now. But I'll need to know. I hope you realize that."

I offer him a slight nod but don't say anything back.

He parts ways with me when I go to Transfiguration. As much as I hate to admit it, I don't blame him for being wary of trusting me. I mean, what would I think if the Carrows were listening to a student and refusing to punish a student despite said student's disobedience? I would certainly believe that student to be on good terms with them. And if someone is on good terms with the Death Eaters, it obviously means something is being hidden.

Perhaps he will defer to McGonagall's judgment. I don't know when—or if—I'll be able to tell him what's really going on. What will he think about me being the daughter of the woman who put his parents in St. Mungo's? My guess is that he won't take it too kindly.