POV: MONIKA

"Uh- excuse me? Professor Binns?"

"…huh? Wh- what is it…? W- who's there…?"

The man floating before me gave a weak jolt, interrupting a snore as he slowly shuddered awake. I watched with some trepidation as the ancient man gradually opened his transparent white eyes, both of which betrayed utter confusion of his surroundings. I imagined it probably didn't help with the disorientation that a notable percentage of his hunched lower body was currently submerged within the wooden librarian desk he was supposed to be watching over.

As I waited for him to fully awaken, I found myself wondering how and why ghosts even needed sleep. It just seemed a bit odd for the memory of a departed individual to still be bound by the same limitations of us living, breathing people. Maybe he didn't actually need to, and was simply doing it out of habit.

I shook the thought from my head, deciding to mark it as a question for later.

Finally, the spectre adjusted his glasses (on that matter, did the afterlife have optometrists?) and managed to focus on me with some difficulty.

"Y- yes, Miss… Walker?" He asked hesitantly in the usual dry, unsure voice he always had when lecturing us in class.

I cringed inwardly, knowing already this was gonna be a painful interaction. I'd thought myself pretty lucky when I'd found out the actual librarian, Madam Pince, had gotten a cold and called on Binns to cover for her today. I wasn't sure how anyone could even concentrate in this place with that grumpy old bat breathing down their necks.

But, as I was quickly coming to realize, Professor Binns was proving to be just as undesirable to talk to for entirely different reasons. Rather than roaming around the area in an unyielding search for book-abusing students to punish, he seemed entirely complacent with treating this new job the same as when he taught History of Magic- doing the absolute barest minimum, with zero attempts at innovation.

"Winther, Sir." I corrected politely, trying my best to stay patient with him. It wasn't his fault that he was old. Or, well, dead. "Uhm, if it's easier, you can call me Monika. I just wanted to ask if you've seen either Natsuki or Yuri around here today?"

I knew I'd made a mistake in asking as soon as I saw his blank, clueless stare back at me.

"Na- Natsuki and You- Yourii?" He repeated unsurely, smacking his dry, wrinkled lips together at the foreign words in his mouth. "And… would these be, uhm, books you're looking to lend…?"

My spirits dropped another inch. It was obvious he hadn't a clue whom or what I was talking about.

I took a quick, deep breath, idly wondering why I'd thought asking him would be a good idea.

You didn't. I reminded myself. You just wanted another excuse to delay this. That's why it's taken an entire week to even come up here.

"No, they're, uh… f- friends of mine." I informed Binns, lying through my teeth. "I've been looking all over the Castle for them, and I've heard they can often be found reading in here!"

"Oh, I- I see…" Binns nodded vaguely, looking like he was on the brink of dozing off yet again. Apparently recognizing his current position, he slowly floated back out of the desk. "I- I'm not sure…"

"Natsuki's pretty short, like this." I said, helpfully raising a hand to my collarbone in order to display her height. I then lifted it a few inches above my head. "Yuri's a bit taller. They both have these really bright, unusual hair colours, pink and purple. You can't have missed them!"

Binns' clueless face suggested the exact opposite, which I supposed was fair enough. It would probably be pretty difficult to notice someone whilst fast asleep. On that note, could ghosts even see colours? I wasn't too certain, and it felt rude to ask.

You're procrastinating. Again.

"Uhm, y- y'know what, I'll just have a look around myself, yeah?" I stammered and backtracked, away from the ineffective substitute. "Thanks a million for your help!"

"Oh, yes… o- of course…" The Professor nodded automatically again, slowly blinking to himself as if not wholly sure our interaction had been real, or imaginary. "You… you're quite welcome, Monique…"

With an awkward wave, I finally turned a corner in between one of the many tall bookshelves scattered about, sparing the poor old ghost from having to pretend to do his job.

I sighed heavily and moved along the unintuitive, packed rows of labyrinthine shelves, glancing down the cramped spaces between each one as I intently searched for any bright flashes of pink and/or purple.

I wasn't the only one using their Sunday to peruse the library. Along the shelves I soon discovered half a dozen small pockets of students scattered at chairs, around tables, studying and just generally chatting in a very relaxed, cozy manner I knew would have never been dared if Pince had been present.

Upon arriving at an aisle near the 'Magical Plants' section, I even found one pudgy Neville Longbottom interestedly examining spines before noticing me, frightfully backing away straight into an unnoticed wall, and collapsing on the floor.

I grit my teeth impatiently and moved on as the downed boy scrambled to get back on his feet. If I knew the prejudices between our Houses well enough (and these day I was starting to get a pretty good idea of them) then chances were high he'd only be even more panicked if a Slytherin like me tried helping him back up.

Without wasting further time lamenting how frustrated this made me, I continued my search.

Come on… Where are they…? Sayori said they always read together in the library now that the Club's out of commission…

A part of me wished Sayori had gone with me as a bit of emotional support, but then again, her presence might've made everything even more uncomfortable considering the subject at hand. Maybe it was a good thing she was stuck in the Hospital Wing with an even worse cold than Pince- this felt like the sort of thing I had to do by myself.

I stopped briefly in front of a window, glancing outside at the grey, dreadful skies blasting the glass pane with intense wind and heavy raindrops.

They HAVE to be here, somewhere. Where else would they be in this weather?!

Even Flint had called off our training today after just one look at the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling. Expensive brooms or not, nobody wanted to get soiled.

And yet, as I focused a bit more on the varying shades of dull grey of the sky outside, I had to do a double take at discovering various tiny, red blobs zooming in the air directly over the nearby Quidditch pitch.

Gryffindor's… out there? I thought dimly, staring in disbelief at the faraway team. From what little I could make out past the rain, I was able to recognize the blobs' flying pattern as an actual, legit formation from the Quidditch Big Leagues, expertly replicated right there on our pitch.

What absolute troopers…

I caught myself experiencing a twinge of admiration at their sheer tenacity, as well as a notable desire to run out down there, ignore the rain and watch them play in person. It was never more than a fleeting feeling, however. Aside from it being yet another way for me to postpone this even further, the optics of a lone member from the opposing team going down to watch Gryffindor's training was highly suspicious, even to me.

Right, because I'm SUCH an established team player. That's definitely me. Totally.

With a light sigh, I tore myself away from the window and moved on, feeling no small amount of shame in my heart. I liked to think I would have been able to withstand and play in these weather conditions myself if need be, but without the rest of my supposed "team" to play with, there wasn't exactly much I could do to prove this claim.

I shook my head anew, angry at how easily I was allowing myself to become distracted from the task at hand. It was as though I was subconsciously searching for ways to put this off even longer.

I don't want to be here. I don't want to do this. My brow's kinda sweaty, maybe I've gotten a cold too! I should go to Madam Pomfrey just to be sure. Can't I do it next week, instead? Surely it can wait just a few more days…!

Exhaling, I turned to look down yet another purple and pink-less aisle, when-

"…not in the mood for this right now. Can't you give it a rest?"

A nearby female voice froze me in my tracks. Though it didn't belong to Natsuki, Yuri or Sayori, it was no less impactful.

Operating on pure instinct, I quickly dived between two unoccupied shelves, hiding myself from view as another, male voice spoke up.

"I just don't get it! What do you see in him? Please tell me it's not the hair!"

"Ron…"

"No, I'm serious Hermione! How can you still stand by him after all these screw-ups?! Literally, name one thing he's done right since he got here!"

Cautiously, I chanced a look around the corner, seeing the backs of two Gryffindor students a few feet away. My heart pounded just a little bit faster. Even if I hadn't just heard them clarify their names, I would have recognized them off their hair alone.

One of them a boy, tall for his age with unkempt hair so brightly orange he could only be a Weasley. The other a girl with thick, bushy brown hair who really didn't need any further introduction considering the circumstances.

Hermione Granger. The catalyst for everything going wrong for me lately- well, in a weird, indirect roundabout sort of way. Despite the long nights I'd spent awake lately by the thought of her and the impact she'd had on my life, it wasn't like I'd ever actually spoken to her.

The two of them were making their way toward the exit, continuing their argument with Hermione clutching a healthy stack of books under her arm, wholly oblivious to me staring from afar.

"Oh, come off it!" Hermione scoffed, sounding annoyed. "Small slip-ups happen to everyone from time to time, you can't honestly expect him to be a perfect wizard without any flaws!"

"Why not?" The Weasley scoffed. "That's how he portrays himself…"

…is that Harry Potter they're talking about? Aren't they supposed to be friends…? I caught myself idly pondering before noticing I was holding my breath.

Exhaling begrudgingly, I considered my next action. I hadn't counted on this happening at all, even though it seemed rather obvious in hindsight. A witch as clever as her, it only made sense to find her hanging around the library.

It was quite the inconvenience, honestly. When I'd walked in here, I'd only wanted to find my former Club members, not this. Not today. I wasn't at all ready to talk with her yet.

But I should. My fist clenched uncomfortably. After last Saturday, I owe her that much.

A relenting sigh shuddered past my lips. I was right, of course I was. Why did I keep putting these things off for as long as possible? It wasn't as if it got any easier the longer I waited. Quite the opposite, in fact.

I should have done it the very moment it happened. I'm such a coward.

Squeezing my eyes shut and ignoring all the primal instincts screaming how terrible an idea this was, I made my decision. Stepping out from my cover I began power-walking to the two Gryffindors, and, just to make absolutely sure I didn't suddenly get cold feet and abandoned the mission halfway through, I locked in the action by gently calling out to them.

"Uhm, G- Granger?!" I cringed at how croaky and hoarse my voice had gotten. "W- wait up!"

The two stopped abruptly, their conversation ending with an unfinished retort from Hermione as they turned in my direction. The moment they spotted me, I could feel what little remained of my courage wither away on the spot. Already their eyes were narrowing in obvious suspicion and mistrust as they recognized the green lining of my robes.

Can hardly blame them for that…

We stood like that for a few painful moments, neither of us saying anything. The words had died in my throat as I appreciated just how completely out of my depth I was, confronting her like this in a public library. I doubted I could have picked a set of circumstances any less ideal than these.

But then again, I struggled to imagine an alternate scenario where this would be any easier, so… I supposed this was as good as any.

"Yes?"

Hermione had broken the awkward silence in a brisk voice. I had to blink a few times to gather my wits again before contorting my face into what I hoped would come across as a kind, welcoming smile rather than some fake, Lockhart-esque embellishment.

I really just wanted this to go smoothly- despite how doubtful and unlikely that possibility seemed to be.

"Hi there!" I blurted out my attempt at a pleasant greeting, meeting her brown eyes. "I, uh- I don't think we've ever been formally introduced? I'm Monika, and of course everybody knows who you are, ahaha…"

Did that sound like a genuine laugh? Was it too high? Does she think I'm mocking her?!

"…and you're- Ron Weasley, wasn't it?" I went on, glancing over at the redhead. "I- I hope you're feeling better after… uhm, y'know…"

A brief image flashed before my eyes of the same boy, kneeling on the Quidditch pitch in full view of both our teams all the while puking up a cascade of large, wiggling, slimy slugs.

Judging from the grave expression and deepening crimson of his ears, I would guess he'd just experienced a very similar flashback.

…probably shouldn't have brought that up. Why did I even do that?!

Having no idea where else to go from here, I lifted a very stiff, automatic arm towards them, extending my hand.

"What do you want?" The Weasley boy growled, adamantly ignoring my gesture. I lowered my arm again, quietly deciding to just stop going for handshakes altogether. They never seemed to work out right.

"R- right, sorry, I'll get to the point." I nodded seriously, feeling my own face flush up. I turned back to face Hermione. "I- I should have done this much sooner, but… I just wanted to apologize for what happened at the Pitch last week. When Draco called you– uhm…"

I paused mid-sentence, unsure.

"…I'm not sure if I'm even allowed to repeat it?" I finished hesitantly. "The 'M-word,' I guess?"

"Why?" Hermione asked tersely, meeting my eyes with a hard glare. At this point I was sure they both recognized me as the sole girl on the Slytherin Quidditch team. Everything about her stance made me anxious she was going to punch me in the face at any moment. Mind, as far as I was concerned, she had every right to do just that. "What's it to you?"

I hesitated for about half a second, trying to work out the best approach. With one final damning deep breath, I forced myself to ignore all of the surrounding distractions, shutting off the library at large until all that remained was me, him, and her.

It didn't matter who else might be staring our way. I'd put this off for long enough already, and it needed to be said.

"Thing is…" I began, exhaling again. "…I've been… using the word myself, actually. Privately, in company, wherever. In fact, ever since I arrived at Hogwarts and learned where you came from, I've pretty much just thought of you as 'that… M-word girl,' really."

Hermione's steel-like gaze hardened into daggers. Next to her, Ron Weasley's scowl deepened in pure disgust. I wondered briefly if the unreliable state of his spello-taped wand (the one that'd backfired and caused the aforementioned slug curse) was the only thing keeping him from cursing me right here and now.

Gosh, I'm bad at this.

"Okay." Hermione managed to say after a short pause, her voice one of forced, icy calm. "Why tell me? What point are you trying to make?"

"Right." I nodded, just as keen to move on. "Two weeks ago, I mentioned you… like that… in front of my friends. Non-Slytherin friends, that is. And they- they got really upset with me. So much so they… don't want to be my friends a- anymore."

I had to take a second's pause from my explanation to gather my wits, forcing myself not to lose it in front of them. This was supposed to be an apology, not a self-pity party.

Ron and Hermione both stayed quiet, their expressions unreadable as they waited for me to continue.

"I- I could say I didn't know what the word actually meant." I went on. "My family, friends and pretty much everyone in my House casually use it all the time, so it would be an easy argument to make. But… it'd also be a lie. I mean, obviously I knew it was a derogatory term for Muggleborn witches and wizards. Maybe it'd be more accurate to say I didn't know about its history or the effect it has on people. I thought my friends were just being overly sensitive and freaking out over nothing until… until I heard Draco at the Pitch."

"You filthy little Mudblood!"

I suppressed a shudder. Though it'd already been over a week, his snarling voice still rang in my head, clear as it'd been on the day when he'd practically spat it in Hermione's face. Though obviously I was familiar with the word in question, I'd never heard it said with so much hate and contempt before.

It'd actually frightened me a little bit. I could remember just standing there with the rest of my team, shell-shocked and unable to do anything but stare as the scene played out before me. The outrage of the Gryffindors competing with the cheering hoots of my fellow Slytherins, celebrating Draco.

It was only then I'd realized my personal opinion on the word didn't matter. Based on those reactions, it was clear as day there was more to it than I'd thought.

"I… still don't really know the full background of the word, to be honest…"

I maintained eye contact with Hermione, and I wasn't sure if her fierce expression had lessened just a fraction, or if that was just wishful thinking on my part. It didn't really matter. All I knew was I needed to get all this stuff that'd been weighing on me off my chest, now.

"…but I'm starting to realize how severe it is to… people like you. I know ignorance doesn't excuse the things I've said behind your back, but I just wanted to apologize and tell you personally that I don't approve of what happened. I don't… I don't want to blindly hate the people around me. In fact, I- I'm considering leaving the Quidditch Team. Only joined because I love the game, but the way Draco's been acting, forcing us to use his brooms and everything else… it's not what I wanted at all."

I could feel the threatening signs of tears emerge from the corner of my eye, and tilted my head downwards, angry with myself. Ugh, why was I such a girl about this?! I wasn't the victim here, the people like Sayori and Hermione were! I had no right whatsoever to start bawling over how 'tough' and 'unfair' my life was.

Pull yourself together!

"I'm r- rambling again." I sniffled like the pathetic baby I was. "Sorry, d- didn't mean to waste your time. I understand if you hate me now, I've h- hated myself for a while now. I just wanted to let you know that I don't… I don't hate you. Maybe I did before, I'm not sure. But… n- not anymore. I'll leave you alone now…"

I turned on the spot, desperate to get as far away as possible, but before I could take so much as a single step-

"Monika, wait!"

Hermione's sharp voice stopped me in my tracks, freezing me in place more effectively than if she'd cast a full body-bind on me. Slowly, cautiously, I chanced looking back at her.

She was still frowning heavily, but her eyes… somehow their stare seemed less steely than before, more… conflicted. They were shifting around, looking all over my face as if searching for something. Insincerity, maybe?

"Okay, look. I… I appreciate you telling me this." She finally admitted in a hesitant, unsure voice. "But you really don't have to worry about me. One of the perks about growing up with Muggles is I never had to meet jerks like Malfoy calling me names before. I actually didn't even know what Mudblood meant before Ron explained it to me."

"…oh." I murmured stupidly. Idly, I recalled back to Sayori's similar, confused reaction and blushed awkwardly.

I'm an idiot.

"…I have a hard time telling with Slytherins." She continued with a deep sigh. "But from what I can see, you seem pretty genuine. And if that's really the case, well, I suppose I forgive you then."

"I don't." Ron added brutally, only to cry out in pain when Hermione bashed a sideways elbow at him.

"Oh shut it, this isn't about you!" She told him irritably.

I blinked slowly as if waking from a daze, barely able to believe what I was hearing.

"I- I don't- thank you!" I managed to sputter out in a barely coherent manner, overwhelmed with raw emotion as I quickly wiped my eyes with a sleeve. "I- I definitely don't deserve that, but-"

"Enough." Hermione cut me off impatiently. "Now, as for your other point, I don't really care that much about Quidditch. But do me a favor, and stay on the Team. Don't quit your dream because of someone like Malfoy, that weasel doesn't deserve the satisfaction. Take his money and fancy brooms and use them to your own advantage. Make people realize you're better than him by being better than him."

Flabbergasted at her advice, I managed a weak nod.

"…okay. I- I will." I stammered obediently, thinking it best not to argue with her command. After everything I'd done, it seemed only fair. "Thank you for… listening to me, I suppose."

There was no mistaking her expression this time around. Hermione's face softened entirely into a pleasant, forthcoming smile.

"No problem." She said warmly. "It's… nice to know there's at least one decent Slytherin at Hogwarts."

She then extended her own hand towards me.

With some hesitation, I reached out and shook it. Though the gesture itself was simple, it somehow seemed to make all the remaining tension around us vanish on the spot, enough to render me completely speechless.

"That being said…" Hermione relinquished her hold on my hand and shot me a teasing wink. "…I'll still be rooting for Harry to beat you in the upcoming match. No offense."

Despite my emotions resembling a heap of freshly squeezed, tattered lemon peels, I actually giggled. It was the first time I'd done so in the last two weeks, and the feeling was indescribable.

"None taken!" I assured her, feeling a small surge of my old fire returning. "But I'll be giving it my best to prevent that from happening!"

As much as a Keeper CAN do against a Seeker, anyway…

"You'd better." She said warningly. "If I see you taking it easy on him up there, I'll definitely start hating you!"

My giggling developed into full blown laughter, which she soon joined in on. Next to us, Ron Weasley was staring and shaking his head in silent befuddlement, as though witnessing a conversation taking place in a completely different language. When Hermione and I finally said our goodbyes (I had to resist the impulse to ask if she wanted to join the Literature Club- it just seemed like that'd be a bit much at the moment) he looked immensely relieved it was all over.

I waved and watched them walk off with butterflies fluttering in my stomach and a sense like several pounds had been lifted off my back. I exhaled deeply as the library gradually made its return to my focus once again, and felt a strong surge of pride and gratitude swell up within me for going through talking to her. All of a sudden, my problems didn't really seem quite so hopeless and insurmountable anymore.

If I could become friendly with Hermione Granger of all people, then of course I could accomplish the same with my Club members. As of this moment, there was no doubt in my mind that I could get everything right again!

Then, a mildly intrusive cough sounded as someone behind me cleared their throat.

"Well. That was certainly something."

Every drop of my newfound confidence ebbed away faster than if someone had cast an evaporation charm at me. I turned in a slow, mechanical motion to identify the source of the dry, unimpressed voice I'd just heard, feeling my residual smile drop and my eyes widening as I did so.

Standing right behind me with her back turned, idly inspecting the spines on a bookshelf marked 'HISTORY,' stood a tall, second year girl with long, flowing purple hair. As she casually pulled out a thick, dark green book I was granted a look at her face which was locked in a state of cold, emotionless neutrality.

"Y- Yuri?" I croaked out in shock, taken aback by her sudden presence. How long had she been standing there?!

"Monika." She replied calmly, without sparing me so much as a passing glance.

I swallowed, my prior anxiety at entering the library returning to me at full strength. My throat dry, I found myself at a loss for what to say.

It was only when Yuri, apparently satisfied with her book pull, turned around and motioned to walk away again that I regained some motor control.

"W- wait!" I called out as loud as I dared, wobbling after her whilst trying to keep my voice at a library-acceptable level. Not because I was scared of getting reprimanded by Binns (I honestly doubted he would even notice if everyone suddenly started an impromptu rock concert right in front of him) but more to avoid drawing the attention of the students studying around us. I was sure I'd embarrassed myself enough in here already. "Yuri, look, I'm so sorry-"

"I already heard everything you said to Hermione, Monika." Yuri spoke over me, stopping up mid-stride. "Saying it again would just be an exercise in repetition."

I had to stop as well, thrown off by her clinical tone. There was no anger, annoyance, or any sense of emotion to it whatsoever- it was just… blank.

She spun around to face me, and I was treated to the same intense stare she'd had when leaving the Club, the one that felt like she was staring straight into my soul and silently judged every action I'd ever taken in my life.

It was a far cry from the usual mild-mannered and stuttering demeanor I'd come to know from her, like a completely separate personality. I had no idea she could be this intimidating when she really wanted to. I actually found myself… genuinely scared.

"Now," She went on in the same dignified monotone. "Did you merely wish to spout off more useless excuses, or is there something you actually require from me?"

Though my instincts told me to retreat at once from this terrifying presence towering before me, I stood my ground determinedly. I had a job to do here, and by Merlin was I gonna do it. I owed as much to my friends.

"Yes." I responded earnestly, forcing myself to meet her deathly stare. "I… I need your help."

"Oh?" Beyond a light head tilt, Yuri had no discernable reaction to my statement.

"It makes no sense!" I said, finally voicing the biggest problem I'd had since the very beginning of this mess, out loud. "Now that I know Sayori is Muggleborn, I- I can't realistically believe what my parents have told me. There's no way someone like her would steal magic from another person. But, it's just… it's the only thing I've heard my entire life. It's hard to shake off."

"I can see how such pre-conceived notions could be difficult to let go." Yuri said, keeping her sculpted stone features neutral and uncommitted. She offered no further elaboration.

"I want to learn the truth." I urged. "I need to know the truth! But I don't have the first idea where to look for it! It's not like there's anyone at Slytherin who can help me find it!"

"Not likely, no." Yuri agreed simply.

"Please, Yuri." I pleaded, desperately. "You're the smartest person I know. If anyone can provide me with unbiased, factual info, it's you! I understand if you never want to see or talk to me again, but if you could just give me a nudge in the right direction. That's all I'll need from you."

At this, the lavenderette surprised me by closing her eyes and letting out a great, relenting sigh. I anxiously held my breath when she began speaking.

"I wasn't really angry when I heard you say the word." She admitted, her voice still neutral but much softer than before. "Just… disappointed. You're a very admirable, hard-working witch, Monika, and I've always been impressed with your abilities. You can do things that none of us could ever dream of. In many ways, you were the best of us."

"I… what?!" I blurted out in shock, having not expected the conversation to take this kind of turn at all. "No, I- I'm not better than any of y-"

"Stop that." Yuri silenced me at once with one sharp look. "Yes, we all have specific strengths we excel at, but we also have our major, glaring flaws. You may not have as much raw talent as Natsuki does, but you can actually talk to other people without getting into fights. And while Sayori's energy and social prowess is unparalleled and I love her dearly, she clearly has shortcomings in classes as well as recognizing personal boundaries. To put it in simple terms, you're a jack of all trades, while sharing none of our weaknesses."

I stared back blankly, having no idea if I should feel flattered or impressed at her analysis. I definitely didn't agree with the assessment, (how could she say 'I could talk to people without getting into fights' when this entire rift between us had been caused by something I'd said?!) but now didn't seem like the time to argue semantics. Instead, I decided to wait for Yuri to finish her point.

"That's why I thought it such a shame to hear such unfounded, hate-based belief coming from you." She explained, harshly. "It really lessened you a great deal in my mind."

"I… I understand." I muttered, feeling my cheeks flushing with shame. "I betrayed the trust you all put in me. I'm so sorry."

There was a pause that felt like it went on for much longer than it probably did. Then, just as I was starting to think this was all Yuri had to say to me and wanted me to go away again, I saw her… smile?

"Here." She said not unkindly, and handed me the green book she'd pulled from the shelf. Mute with stunned surprise, I lifted my arms weakly and took it, glancing down at the golden-lettered cover:

"Mistreatment of Muggles through the Millennia."
By Markus L. Parsley

"Why don't you have a seat?" Yuri called gently for my attention, and I looked up with wide eyes to see her offering a seat at a nearby empty table. "You can read the book here with me while I catch up on some homework. If you have trouble understanding anything, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Y- you'll actually help me?!" I gasped, unable to process this sudden mood twist. "J- just like that, after everything I did?!"

"Oh, Monika. I've wanted to help you ever since you said the word" She calmly explained. "But I needed you to want it first and seek it out on your own. Otherwise, I knew you wouldn't be receptive to any information that might contradict your pre-taught beliefs."

I blinked rapidly, still struggling to understand.

"Also, I'll admit watching you squirm was… very amusing." She went on with an uncharacteristically smug smirk.

"…I literally can't believe you!" I exclaimed breathlessly, equally outraged as I was over the moon in euphoric, celebratory relief. Tentatively I accepted the offered seat across from her, still anticipating some other shoe to drop. "You're actually… evil!"

"Mm…" Yuri hummed with a non-committed shrug. "I feel that's a matter of perspective. For instance, Natsuki told me I was being 'way too soft' on you."

"Wait. Natsuki's here?!" I whipped my head around, glancing in every direction to spot any flashes of pink. I'd almost gotten out of the chair before noticing Yuri's frown of denial.

"…you just missed her." She stated apologetically. "She snuck out the moment she noticed your presence. I'd reckon she's probably made it to the Gryffindor Common Room by now."

"Damn it…" I cursed softly, balling my hand into a disappointed fist.

"I'm afraid you'll have a much harder time convincing her to give you a second chance than me…" Yuri admitted. "To put it mildly, she's… a bit more upset with you than I was."

"Makes sense, I suppose…" I gave a sigh of my own to calm down again. Resolving things with Hermione, Yuri and Natsuki all in the span of one afternoon was admittedly a bit of a lofty goal. Though it still felt like a defeat, I had to tell myself to just take what I could get. "…can I ask how bad it is?"

"Well…" She hesitated slightly. "…put it like this. Normally when Natsuki dislikes someone she'll take every opportunity she gets to confront that individual head on, yell at them, challenge them and beat them in a duel or what-not. With you however, she's seemingly chosen to go out of her way to avoid you at all costs. I don't wish to speak on her behalf, but this refusal to even acknowledge your existence suggests to me that she probably… hates you more than anyone else at the moment."

"Oh, joy." I sighed, suddenly tired. "How wonderful. Can't wait for that reunion…"

"Indeed…" Yuri nodded darkly. "But I wouldn't despair too hard. What you're doing right now is a good first step in the right direction, and I'm proud of you for taking it. I would hazard to guess that with a little bit of time and luck, you'll be able to gain her forgiveness and become friends again."

"So, uhm…" I began, awkwardly tracing a finger along the cover of my new book. "A- are we friends again, then…?"

Afraid to even hope, I chanced a peek upwards only to find my fear completely misplaced. Stretched along her face, I saw a large, warm and beaming smile.

"Of course we are." She assured me with an inviting gesture towards the book in my lap. "Now, are you ready to begin?"

I felt the first genuine smile in two weeks emerge across my face as I opened the book.

"Let's." I agreed in a wobbly voice thick with emotion.