1st May

Much, much later, when the sky had gone black and everyone in the Castle had gone to sleep, I was sitting silently on the edge of McGonagall's window in her office, looking out into night time. I watched the trees, the effortless ebb and flow of the leaves and the sight of birds taking flight, escaping the grounds of the school and regularly returning to feed their young. The silence was seldom broken by the small snores of George lying asleep on the armchair next to me. His hand still holding mine.

McGonagall had left us here hours ago. If she had returned to bed, I would have known. I can barely close my eyes for a second, sleep is a distant memory of a time when my mind wasn't so busy. I heard the cheerful chime of the clock on her desk- it had just gone 3am. I wondered how a clock could sound so positive and full of joy to be entering a new hour. Another hour where I could stare at the same four walls. Where I could feel the dull ache of the bruising on my body. When I could think about the coarseness of Oliver Wood's skin against mine, the power in which he pushed me against the wall and held me there, popping the buttons of my blouse, tantalising me, savouring every moment of my terror. I pictured the sly sneer. I smelt the stale sweat of his body, the fumes of firewhiskey on his breath and the lemon of his lips as they lashed onto mine.

The clock struck 0400.

Something didn't quite add up. There was no lemon cake, or lemon drops or sherbet lemon, or lemonade… Oliver doesn't even like lemons. Then after a while it dawned on me.

"George!" I shook his sleeping body, "Georgie! Wake up!"

"Wh-What's wrong?" his body sprang into action.

I looked deep into his sleepy eyes, "We need to see Madam Pomfery. Now."

0423: Madam Pomfery quickly drew the curtains around the only occupied bed in the Hospital Wing. "Kathryn?! What are you doing here? Are you in pain? Do you need-"

I felt weak at the knees; I was in the same room as him again, but I had this gut instinct and I had better not be wrong, "I think someone slipped a potion into his firewhiskey."

"I-" Madam Pomfery began but I interrupted her.

"Just let me explain- his breath smelled like firewhiskey, but I had an overwhelming taste of lemon, that may seem reasonable to anyone, but there was no lemon cake or lemon drops or anything lemony at the party, and then I remembered he doesn't even like lemon, he told me himself, which got me thinking, could there be a link between the lemons and the way he was acting?" I spoke so fast. Even I was surprised at how fast the words flew out of my mouth.

"Kathryn-"

"I'm almost finished-" I waved my arms at the Matron, I really needed to tell her, "I was doing a bit of reading with Hermione the other day about potions that make people act out of character and there was one called the 'libido potion' also known as the 'cupiditas potion' that makes the drinker feel very confident, assertive, manly, increases sex drive and one of the tell-tale signs for women is that the drinker's lips taste like lemons. And I just thought…" This was the clearest my mind had seemed all night.

"Well done, Miss Pink, I would offer points to Gryffindor but I'm afraid I would only have to find a reason to take them away again…"

Professor Snape stood out from the darkness.

"Professor?" I felt the palms of my hands get sweaty. I didn't want Snape knowing what had happened, but there was no doubt he already did.

"Madam Pomfery had sought my expertise at this late hour to detect a potion in a student's system but she needn't have bothered because the girl worked it out herself. I imagine Miss Pink and Miss Granger illegally brewed the potion here in the school. Does that bode well with you all? That after all this time, she had planned a cosy evening that went… wrong?"

"HOW DARE YOU!" I screamed, taking a jump for Snape's greasy face. But George grabbed me and held me back, "DON'T YOU DARE INSINUATE I WOULD DO SUCH A THING!" my heart rate rose and I was ready to fight, I had taken enough crap from Snape to do me a lifetime, "I WAS ALMOST RAPED BY THE BOY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THAT CURTAIN AND ALL YOU CAN THINK- ALL YOU CAN THINK IS THAT I PLANNED IT. YOU REALLY ARE A PRICK, AREN'T YOU?" I broke down into tears again. A surge of adrenaline ran through my veins again making me shake and breathe heavily. I felt like I was losing control of myself.

"All right, all right…" Professor McGonagall put an arm around me and directed me into Madam Pomfery's office where Dumbledore and Lupin were seated. The small space became crammed as Madam Pomfery, Snape, McGonagall, George and I now entered. I was furious at Snape, frightened they thought I was lying, scared that I could have been wrong the whole time and sickened that the whole ordeal might happen to someone else.

"Kathryn," Dumbledore's calm voice sounded and I looked up through my tears to see his solemn expression through his half-moon spectacles, his hands were clasped on the desk in front of him, "Please believe I do not wish to cause you any more pain or anguish. However, a ray of light can be shone onto the events of yesterday evening. I can confirm Mr Wood does have that particular potion in his system but the question remains, how did it get there?"

It took a second for the message to sink in.

I shook my head.

"My next concern is who thought it would be a good idea to brew a forbidden potion on school property and use it?"

"Or smuggle it in?" McGonagall added.

Lupin leaned forwards, "If either of you can provide any information, thoughts or reasoned suspicions we will investigate those further."

George, who had been completely silent until now, spoke, "You have to think of this logically Professor, Oliver Wood is one of the most envied people in the school right now, his team just won the Quidditch Cup! How could we possibly whittle down the candidates?"

"I would start with the Slytherin team-" I said, not particularly thinking about it.

Snape snarled, "I wouldn't go around throwing accusations, either, Miss Pink."

I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth. It took everything I had not to throw something at the foul, pathetic excuse for a teacher.

"Perhaps you should return to bed, Severus?" McGonagall suggested in her way that people knew to do what they were told. Snape turned to leave without another word.

I thought of something, "Just before you go, Professor," I heard Snape stop, "How fast acting is that particular potion? And how long does it last for?"

"Perhaps you should answer that one for me, since you seem to know everything already." Snape sneered once again.

"Just answer the question, Severus." Lupin snarled.

"The potion takes no longer than 20 minutes to start working and can last up to 2 hours, depending on the amount swallowed." And with that, he left.

"He drank it just before we left the Common Room." I concluded.

I could see Dumbledore immerge from deep thought, "Explain?" his kind eyes encouraged me.

"He was admiring my photos and we were talking for at least 10 minutes before we went outside, I remember him drinking a bottle of firewhiskey. He downed the whole thing. I can't remember who gave it to him, but I remember where he dropped it…"

0503: The Gryffindor Common Room was a mess. The evidence suggested that the party went on for hours after I left. When it all happened. It feels like it was a lifetime ago. I stood behind the sofa I had earlier taken refuge beside. I pictured Oliver walking towards me, offering to sign my picture- it was sitting on the table to my right, untouched. I remember how we talked and how he swayed on the spot, how the music was loud and every Gryffindor student was having a great time. I recall watching Ron and Hermione chatting, often swooping in to save Harry from awkward conversations. I sighed. George comforted me as he could see the flashbacks were agonising. I knelt down on the ground and put my hand under the sofa, I sharply inhaled as my hand met the bottle, the bottle that contained the potion that has made me so fragile. McGonagall quickly examined it and confirmed that it was indeed the bottle we were looking for.

0514: "Kathryn dear, I do require your clothes for evidential purposes, and I need to make a note of your sustained injuries. I do hope you understand…" McGonagall spoke kindly, offering to help me up to my dormitory to grab some clean clothes. And my wand. I was never leaving it anywhere, ever again. She walked me to the bathroom along with Madam Pomfery where the two ladies very professionally examined the cuts and bruises on my body.

It was only now that I saw the scratches on my thighs where he had tried to force them apart. Only now that I had seen the bruising around my left eye, the superficial gashes down my left cheek and the cut on my upper lip. Only now I saw the scratches, scrapes and bruising on my arms, legs, hands and knees. I looked dreadful. I felt numb. I had no tears left to cry. My head started to pound as I quickly redressed myself. I never imagined standing completely naked in front of two women I thought so highly of.

0627: I rested my head on George. I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders, a weight that I couldn't pass on to others for it would only add to my own load of things to worry about. I looked about the room, at the pale, tired faces all desperately trying to sort this out for me.

"You need to get some sleep, all of you. This is pointless." I was sitting on a sofa in Dumbledore's office. The teachers were all standing around the circular desk, trying to get DNA evidence from the bottle. They were discussing who could have planted the potion, but were fighting to find anything concrete. All students, except George and me, who could provide light on the situation were currently tucked up in bed. We were going to get nowhere without the help of eye-witnesses.

Next thing, Madam Pomfery's face appeared in the fire, "He's awake."

0645: I refused to sit in Dumbledore's office. George and I were told to stay put, but Dumbledore left the door unlocked and I wasn't going to sit staring at another set of stone walls for another few hours. George followed me towards the Hospital Wing where the two of us stood outside for a second. I heard the sound of retching, vomiting and complaining of a sore head- he had a hangover. George took my hand to stop me moving any further.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he gazed into my eyes, he looked knackered but concerned, probably not knowing how I would react. I didn't know how I would react either, but sneaked into the room anyway. I could see Madam Pomfery frantically trying to clean him up. She performed a few spells and the sickness ceased.

"Tell me what you remember from last night, Mr Wood." McGonagall spoke.

Oliver was very drowsy, "I really don't remember anything…"

My heart sank.

"Kathryn?" He saw me standing at the other end of the room. I turned my back on him and walked out. This was the worst news possible. He doesn't even remember what he did.

0707: "Why don't you head upstairs and get some sleep?" I was stroking George's hair, distracting myself with how soft it was.

"People will be getting up soon, there's no point, besides, I'm not leaving you alone, not now." He looked up at me from his slouching position on the sofa.

I thought about what he said. I really hope he didn't think he could have stopped this. If anything, I should have stood up to Oliver in the first place and told him to go on his own. I should have grabbed someone to walk with us. I should have brought my wand. What Witch forgets to take her wand out of her jeans? Who in their right mind walks off alone with a slightly drunk ex-boyfriend? I shouldn't have had a skirt on. How could I have been so stupid? Hindsight was a wonderful thing.

"Georgie?" I asked, "Promise me something?"

"Hmmm?" he replied.

As I thought more and more about the events of 12 hours ago the more it blurred into the back of my mind. I was forcing myself to recall details I didn't even see, my head was working in overdrive again, "Please don't tell anyone what happened…"

George thought before answering, "Not even Fred?"

I could see how much this meant to him, so I granted him one person, "Well, Fred isn't just anyone, I guess."

Relief swept over George's face.

0752: George has fallen asleep again. I really don't blame him. I saw him fight the urge to close his eyes, especially when I wrapped my arms around him. He needed to sleep, I knew it was possible for him to drift off even though it was impossible for me. I was very comfortable around him and knew that if he didn't like me in that way, I knew he at least cared enough to save me from my own stupidity. His breathing was deep and rhythmical and fairly relaxing. Unlike mine.

0759: I heard footsteps galloping down the stairs from the girls' dormitory. I was overcome with dread at the thought of people looking at me and asking questions. I have been up all night and I'm pretty sure I look it. I debated making a run for it, but then I would wake George and he was just so peaceful. I couldn't pretend to be asleep when sitting bolt upright. So I stared into the fire, wishing I were invisible, that it wouldn't look strange if George lay there with an invisible pillow to lie on.

"KATHRYN?" Hermione's voice bounced off the walls of the room, making me jump but not enough to make George stir.

I looked over to her and raised a finger to my lips, "Shhhh." I said and then pointed down at George. Hermione sat down on the sofa beside me. It must have still been dark enough in the Common Room as Hermione was yet to notice my face.

"When did you come to bed?" she whispered.

"I didn't." I spoke normally.

She sounded light-hearted, "Were you two up partying all night or something?"

"Not quite, no..."

The concern rose in her voice, "Well, what have you been doing for the past 12 hours? I didn't see you from this time last night."

"Well-" A lump appeared in my throat. It was much more difficult to say out loud. My brain was screaming.

"What happened?" Hermione sat closer to me, placing a hand on mine.

I took a shaky breath, I realised my hands had gone all wobbly again. My body wouldn't allow me to cry any more as I fought the fear of saying Oliver's name. I was holding back from telling my best friend yet more bad news. All I ever seemed to do was tell her bad news.

"I can't." I admitted.

"Of course you can, you can tell me anything!" Hermione tried to sound calm, but I knew she wasn't, "I saw you and Wood-"

I shivered at the sound of his name. At the sound of the name of the guy who didn't remember what he did. Who was slipped a potion, or who voluntarily drunk a potion, which left me like this, vulnerable, unable to speak to my best friend.

"Okay, so you and him went off alone together?"

I nodded.

"And something bad happened?"

I nodded again.

"Was he mean to you?"

I pursed my lips and half shook, half nodded my head.

"What did he do?" she was afraid to guess.

I lifted my wand from my lap and pointed it at the lamps around the walls, filling the room with light. I closed my eyes and turned my face to Hermione.

She gasped.

"Kathryn! You've got to tell someone."

"I've spent the majority of the night with teachers. Telling them the story, showing them what he did, realising how it happened…"

Hermione leaned in close to me and whispered, sounding horrified at the words she spoke, "Did he touch you?"

I nodded, "He tried to go one step further, but-"

"George." Hermione realised, "I saw him follow you, did he…?"

"Save me? Yeah. Hasn't left me for more than ten minutes since." I looked down at his head, resting on me.

"H-how are you?" she asked, piecing everything together.

I tried to smile at her, "I think I'm okay."

0817: The portrait door opened and the one person whom I didn't expect to ever see in the Gryffindor Common Room emerged. Snape.

His eyes found mine almost immediately as he swiftly made his way towards me, looking uncomfortable in the surroundings. "Miss Pink, I came to apologise."

I said nothing, but nodded for him to continue.

"I believe I was insensitive during the night and I made you upset. I want to award you 50 points for working it out, not many at this school would have possessed such knowledge."

"Thank you."

"I will endeavour to find whoever did this." Snape spoke and then he made his way towards the door again.

I talked before I could think, "I'm sorry for calling you a prick."

0836: Professor McGonagall had been waiting outside by the portrait until Snape had left. She requested that I accompany her to the Hospital Wing, she left a note for George if he was to wake up. I wasn't too happy about leaving him there, but I was reassured that he would be alright and Hermione came with me instead. McGonagall spoke in whispers about Oliver's condition. He was stable, he still hadn't remembered anything and was requesting to see me. McGonagall had agreed that she would fetch me if he promised not to harass/ touch/ make me feel uncomfortable. I was warned not to tell him what happened. I was merely there to provoke flashbacks.

When McGonagall pulled the curtain back, I had to hold onto her arm. Fear tried to take over. Just looking at him made my own flashbacks commence. I had to take deep breaths to steady myself as I took a seat a metre or so from his bedside. I didn't know if I was ready to be near him, never mind sit that close. I knew that worse things had happened to me before. The voice of my therapist was in my head too, alongside everything else. I tried to take his advice, I tried to face my fear, to try and conquer it.

"Are you okay?" he asked me. I didn't know how to respond other than to give a quick shake of the head. "Why am I here? What happened?" Oliver asked, just as I remembered how Lockhart was acting with his memory shattered.

"I need you to tell me." I was barely audible but I think Oliver understood.

His voice was troubled, "You can't even look at me…" he sighed to himself, "You ran off earlier when I saw you…" he added, "And you look like you really don't want to be here."

I looked over at Hermione, who was standing at the edge of the curtain, she was staring at me but was clearly in another world. I wondered what she was thinking about, or what she was imagining. I knew it wasn't homework or revision. I felt awful having to tell her, to make her go through this with me. When she zoned back into reality again she gave me an encouraging smile, reminding me that I was doing this for the greater good. I, however felt in no way good. I felt even worse when I finally forced myself to expose my face to him; he appeared scared and confused.

"I really need you to remember what happened last night…" I spoke after a long period of silence; my voice was shaky.

Horror struck as Oliver questioned, "I didn't do that to you, did I?"

"Did you?" I reciprocated.

I watched as Oliver looked down at his hands disbelievingly. I realised after the minute of complete silence that this approach was going to get me nowhere. I was never going to provoke his memory without sharing segments of truth. I thought of a new strategy, "Can you tell me what you do remember from last night?"

"Well…" he began, "I remember we went back to the Gryffindor Common Room to celebrate after we won the Quidditch Cup…" He said it with no emotion, it was the happiest he had ever been, "There was music and food and I remember a second year, Creevy, giving me a photograph and the team was in it, with you."

"Yeah, that's right! What did you do next?" I felt like I was finally getting somewhere.

Oliver thought long and hard, "I remember you were standing by yourself and I went to show you the photo- did I sign yours?"

"Yes, yes you did."

I could see him shake his head in embarrassment. "Cringe worthy moment right there."

I didn't care about that right now, "Do you remember anything you had or were doing when showing me your photo?" I said, but he looked at me blankly, so I pressed further, "Do you remember what you ate or drank?"

"Well, I had far too many firewhiskeys! They are how come I got in this state- I've got the world's worst hangover and I don't remember anything!" frustration prevailed in his tone.

"Can you think who gave you the last firewhiskey you drank?"

There was a pregnant pause.

"There was a note. It was sitting on the table beside me, leaning against the firewhiskey." Oliver reminisced. I leaned forwards in anticipation, "It said, 'from your admirer' in curly handwriting. I thought it was from you, that's why I came over to talk to you, that's why I asked if you wanted to go outside-" he covered his mouth, he had just spoken more than he thought he remembered. I sat up straight in my chair. Even McGonagall took a step forward in eagerness, "And… we walked around the grounds and I started to feel funny and I was saying things I had no control over. Then everything goes a bit fuzzy from there…"

I was disappointed his memory didn't stretch any further but I had another pressing question in mind, "This note; do you know where it is?"

"Of course," Oliver said, reaching into his pocket and lifting out a piece of pink parchment, "Are you sure it's not your writing?" He handed it to me.

One glance at it told me, "100% it's not mine. The style isn't familiar at all."

Hermione had a quick glance too but came up with as much as I did: nothing. McGonagall took the paper off to crossmatch or test or do whatever she does. I politely excused myself from Oliver's bedside, I had spent long enough in his presence. I took refuge in Madam Pomfery's office again. She offered me a sleeping draught. I refused. I needed to see this through.

0945: I thought through the various possibilities of what could have happened. It was evident now that Oliver didn't drug himself. Someone left that bottle for him. Someone wanted him to drink that potion. But who and why? Was it because he won the cup? Are they jealous? Did they think it would be funny? Or was it incidental that Oliver picked up the bottle, thinking it was for him? He is incredibly big-headed after all. Who would know about that particular potion? How did they get it into the school, considering it's illegal here? I had all these questions but no way in which to answer them. My head was spiralling back and forth.

"Perhaps we should get some breakfast, Kathryn?" Hermione spoke for the first time in at least 45 minutes.

I was definitely not thinking about food (surprising as though that may be), "You go on ahead and get yourself something, I'm not hungry."

"Kathryn…" Madam Pomfery's voice sounded stern.

I cleared my throat, "Yes?"

"Will I have to force feed you?" I knew her well enough to know that her threats no longer scared me.

I held out my arm, rolling up my sleeves for her to inject me, revealing an array of scratches that looked even worse in the daytime, "Go for it."

She did not look one bit amused.

1002: Hermione pleaded for me to go into the Great Hall to grab some breakfast, but the thought of eating made me feel nauseous. I really didn't want anything but she wouldn't let me walk up to the common room alone, and made me sit at the (almost empty) Gryffindor table to watch her eat. Luckily, no one sat close enough to us to see me. She pushed my favourite foods towards me- a bacon butty, a pain au chocolat, omelette and fruit salad. I politely refused at first.

"You're so stubborn, you know that?" Hermione said after arguing with me.

I reasoned, "If I was hungry, you'd know all about it." I usually moaned at the slight bit of hunger, or drooled at the thought of my favourite foods when we're supposed to be concentrating in class.

"That's true…" she sighed, I had temporarily worn her down.

1046: The two of us headed up to the Gryffindor tower where The Fat Lady allowed us to gain passageway. This is when Hermione started a fresh argument.

"Kathryn when was the last time you ate? I remember the last time you didn't eat properly and you ended up on the Hospital Wing."

"Please, Hermione I don't want to argue with you." I really was about to lose my cool.

"I'm not arguing, I'm discussing." She spoke matter-of-factly, "When was the last time you ate?"

I felt like I was going to hit her. I had better things to be doing than 'discussing' my diet. I didn't have a baldly notion the last time I ate. My head was filling with questions again now that more people were in the common room. I thought about the person who left the bottle for Oliver. Are they in the room right now? Who were they? Did they intend for me to get hurt? Was Oliver just collateral damage in the plan when I was the intended target? I wondered if they were questioning Oliver's whereabouts. Or was the bottle planned for someone else? Was I in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or where they watching me, laughing to themselves, wanting me to suffer?

"Don't ignore me, Kathryn." Hermione was all up in my face.

"Where's George?" I asked, pushing past her to where I had left him a few hours before. He looked like he had just woken up. A little less tired and more alert.

He rubbed one of his eyes, "I read your note, what happened?"

I quickly filled him in. I told him about the parchment left with the bottle, that Oliver thought it was from me and that he still hadn't a clue how I got my injuries. That he suspected himself. "But George…" I began, really trying to focus on one thing going on in my head at once, "What if I was the person intended to get hurt? What if Oliver was just the facilitator?"

"Kathryn, don't think that way, you haven't slept, you're overthinking things…" he rubbed my arm, trying to reassure me.

I shook my head before whispering, "What if they're watching me right now?"

"Don't be silly, this-"

"But say they are!"

"Then give them something to look at." He joked.

I felt myself get all worked up. No one was listening to me and taking me seriously, "Don't you think I've been exposed enough today?"

I had to walk away before I did something I might regret. I bolted up the stairs towards the dorm to grab a towel and headed to the bathroom on the floor above. Halfway up the winding staircase I bumped into Angelina who looked at me strangely.

"Not now." I said, pushing past her as she opened her mouth.

I needed to be alone for a while. I knew that now. I opened the door to the shower room and locked it firmly behind me. Climbing into the shower, I sat on the tiled floor with the hot water pelting on my back. It was here that I sorted out my head.

I put my experience with Oliver into a box at the back of my brain where all bad things go. I tried to logically think who would have motive against me and Oliver, both together and separately. The list was small and it was highly unlikely, but it was a list nonetheless. I took the time to rationally recall the party, putting names and faces to those hanging around in that area. I tried to think what made that particular party different, why more people seemed to be in the common room and who was not supposed to be there.

I wondered if my mother had sent someone to make my life miserable, but my brain shot down that idea in an instant. The woman probably didn't give me a second thought. The fact that I could think coherently was a sign my mental health was improving. I had spent so many hours in therapy rewiring my brain, I had managed to half sort myself in the space of time it takes for my skin to get seriously wrinkly. And for my head to tell me that I was now very hungry.

I got dried, dressed, did my hair in a French plait and covered the worst of the bruising on my face with concealer. Taking a deep breath, I went to face the music.

1200(MD): As I strolled down the stairs towards the Common Room, a number of people stood as they saw me. George's face appeared apologetic. I shook my head at him as though implying I had already forgotten what he had said. I didn't get the chance to look at Hermione, who had Harry and Ron on either side, as Angelina carefully guided me towards a group of chairs where the Rogues were sitting.

"George won't tell us anything. Spill." She said, as the group huddled tightly around me.

"Have any of you heard of personal space?" I tried to get up but got shoved back down on the chair again. I really didn't appreciate the confinement, "Please, guys let me go…" I had to close my eyes so as not to panic at the words coming out of my mouth.

George stepped in, "Move out of my way." I felt him take my arm and tug me to safety, "Are you okay?" he spoke softly, moving a strand of hair away from my face.

I tried to be strong, trying to replace the lid on the box of bad things at the back of my mind again. I didn't realise how close to breaking point I was. "Not really…" I admitted. I needed to get out of there. I walked over towards Hermione and said, "Let's get lunch."

The look of surprise on her face said it all. Without a second look at the boys, we both made our way to the Great Hall. She repeatedly told me she was sorry and I continually told her it was alright. I took a seat at the far end of the table, closest to the teachers, feeling like I was most protected there. Dumbledore sat, deep in thought over his stew. His eyes flickered to mine and I shook my head.

"Why are we sitting all the way down here?" Ron complained, plonking himself on the seat beside me, Harry sat opposite beside Hermione.

I looked directly into Ron's eyes, "Because I don't fancy people gawping at me, that's why."

"Bloody hell! What happened to you?"

"The less you know, the better, I think."

"Has anyone seen Wood this morning? He must have had too many firewhiskeys and ended up in the Hospital Wing!" Harry sounded amused at the thought.

I cleared my throat.

"He didn't?" The two boys took to their feet immediately.

This is why I didn't want to tell them, because I knew how they'd react, "Sit down, you're making an eejit out of yourselves. And yes, he's in the hospital wing. Yes, he had too much firewhiskey and yes he did this to me and your brother helped sort him out for me. If you have any other questions, ask Hermione. I do not want to hear you repeat the story to anyone, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes." The two boys gulped.

I grabbed myself a ham and cheese sandwich and took a bite, "Well this is cheerful."

Ron dug into his food like usual and the conversation changed again as Hermione decided to ask Ron about the case for Buckbeak. This gave me ample opportunity to zone out. I looked up to the other end of the Gryffindor table where Fred, George and the gang had just sat down. They were close enough for me to notice, but far enough away for me to not hear what they were talking about. As a force of habit, I rolled up my sleeves before serving myself some lentil soup. The three of them stared at the horrendous cuts on my arm and I immediately had to roll them back down again. I covered my face for a minute to regain my composure.

"I heard Wood ended up in the Hospital Wing last night. You Gryffindors must have partied him too hard." Draco Malfoy had come to gloat.

Ron set down his spoon, "Go away, Malfoy."

"Not even going to look at me, Kathryn?" Draco sounded disappointed.

"She's not feeling very well…" Hermione made up an excuse for me.

It was at that point where I remembered my first accusation of last night, wondering if Draco knew why Oliver was in the Hospital Wing. Is that why he came to gloat? I knew what he was like. He thinks he can get away with murder. It was obvious what motivation he had against Oliver, but what motivation would he have against me? I took my hands away from my face and looked at him. The look of pure shock meant he wasn't expecting to see the blackness of my eyes, or the gash across my cheek, "What happened?" he asked, his voice slightly shaky. I reckoned from his reaction that he had no input to last night, or that he was a very good actor.

"You tell me, Draco."

He was stunned, I must have caught him by surprise, not that it often stopped him from providing me with a sarcastic comment. Perhaps he thought the comment in his head was highly inappropriate, given the state of my face. His face showed a mixture of concern, surprise and deep thought. He simply walked away.

1515: "Can we talk to Kathryn alone for a minute?" Fred spoke. The three of my closest friends had been sitting beside me all afternoon, Hermione was reading a book in attempt to revise, our exams were only a month away, after all. Besides, this was normal behaviour for her all year around. Ron had an article in front of him about Hippogriffs and Harry was doing some homework. I tried to memorise the Confusion Potion, a concoction which would make the drinker a bit jumbled up and unable to think straight. I wondered if Oliver had been slipped some of that, too? But I knew it was impossible because Snape and the rest of the teachers were all over it last night. The surprising thing about the Confusion Potion was that it is surprisingly easy to understand and learn.

My friends suspiciously got up and left me with Fred and George. "They're all really worried about you, over there, you know…" Fred said, "Don't you think they deserve to be told?"

"Do you think I deserved this to happen to me?" I questioned him.

He was taken aback, "Of course not! But-"

"Exactly."

George tried to reason with me, "You need all the support you can get right now…"

"I don't need people to have that view of him until I know what happened and why. I let you tell Fred so that you would have someone to talk to, please don't make me regret it. I'm struggling here to live a normal life without another person," I stared at Fred, "looking at me as though I'm a sorry case. All they need to know is that I'm not feeling very well and need a bit of space." I felt emotional, but quickly pulled myself together again.

"You know fine right they won't take that, they're your friends, Kathryn, they care, they want to help, they want to be there for you."

"I DON'T WANT THEM TO KNOW, GEORGE." I raised my voice a little too much, I wish no one knew, then at least I could pretend it didn't happen, "Don't make me say it again."

1620: "Miss Pink?" McGonagall had taken a seat beside me and I hadn't noticed. The entire of Gryffindor was looking at me. "Would you kindly accompany me to my office?"

"Of course." I said, shaking the most recent bunch of thoughts out of my head.

McGonagall stood and had a look around the room, I noticed that Hermione, Harry, Ron and the group had all stared in anticipation in my direction, "Would you like to bring someone? Mr Weasley? Miss Granger?"

"No, I'll be alright, thanks." I ignored them all.

I set my potions book down on the table in front of me and followed McGonagall to her office for what seemed like the 100th time today. There was quiet between us. I was glad in some ways because I really was sick of talking, of explaining myself or doing what people told me to do. Genuinely, all I wanted to do was be alone or at least in a room where people weren't nattering about nonsense that didn't matter.

"You did really well earlier." McGonagall shared as she (as always) handed me a cup of tea. As she took a seat I could see just how tired she was. I really didn't see the point in replying to her, it was more of a statement than a question and I was in no way grateful for being put in the situation in the first place. "I'm glad you ate something." She said as though she had remembered to congratulate me. I felt like I was being treated like a 5-year-old. "Have you slept at all?"

"No." I responded.

"I can get you a sleeping draught."

I sighed, "I'll sleep tonight, I promise."

I assumed McGonagall had had enough of small talk and decided not to beat about the bush any longer, "We have spoken to a number of individuals regarding the incident, all of which have provided solid alibis. We have been unsuccessful in discovering the perpetrator thus far, the case however still remains open. Mr Wood doesn't appear to be remembering any subsequent details. Professor Snape declared it is a side effect of the potion." She looked up at me for my thoughts, but I gave nothing away, I was feeling dreadful inside, but she continued, "I was wondering if I could get your opinion on a few things. After all, I want to look after your best interests in this matter."

There was a quick tap at the door and Lupin entered, taking a seat at the side of the desk.

"Professor Lupin and I were wondering how you would feel if Mr Wood was released from the Hospital Wing and if he returned to his dormitory in the Gryffindor Tower?" she had sucked in her lips.

Lupin leaned forwards, "What we want to know is how comfortable you feel and if you would like him to complete his studies from home?"

"Expel him?!" I blurted out.

"If that is your wish?" McGonagall then covered her mouth with her knuckles.

"Ummm… I-" I didn't honestly know what to say. A part of me knew he was innocent, but I also knew I would always know it was him who did this to me, under a potion or not. But I didn't want him to be expelled, he worked too hard to be refused entry to his exams. I couldn't possibly ruin the rest of his life, his job prospects or anything, could I?

"Take your time to think about it, there is absolutely no rush." Lupin looked exhausted too, but in fairness he looked permanently exhausted but just displayed many variations of it with his condition. I suppose he went without sleep a lot, "We do have something else we'd like you to think about… Do you want Mr Wood to be informed of his actions yesterday evening?"

McGonagall cleaned her glasses on her robes, "I believe it is only fair that you ultimately make these decisions, Kathryn… This affects you most."

1801: In the last hour and a half I discussed my options with the two professors. They even suggested that I could go home to relax for a while and return after the exams, to which I responded with a snort. That was definitely not going to happen. McGonagall also told me that I didn't have to sit any of my exams due to the amount of emotional and psychological stress I have been enduring. She and Lupin both tried their best to be understanding and supportive, they weren't doing such a bad job. They gave me time to think, parchment for me to write down thoughts, or pros and cons. But after much deliberation I came to my own conclusions.

"Oliver should not be expelled. He will be allowed to take all of his exams just as any other student." I began, "And I trust that the right thing to do is to tell him exactly what happened, there is nothing worse than to be kept in the dark. But-" It was going to take a lot of courage to do this, but I knew it was only right, "I want to be the person to tell him."