I felt helpless, while I sit next to Sofia's bed after school. Fear permeated every ounce of me, as I slowly stroked her forehead. That infuriating little troublemaker is to blame for everything. Who she think she was to attack her like that? The thought of someone harming Sofia filled me with incredible rage and disbelief.

But this is my fault too. As I tried to calm down, I feel the weight of guilt crushing me. I should have protected her, but I just stood there and watched, as she fights with Hermione. Sofia did this because of me. She is here due to me.

Draco's voice pulled me back to the real world. – She will heal – I nodded in frustration. – She will, because she is strong.

I smiled at his words. He was right. She is vigorous warrior. She is my beautiful warrior whom I love more than anything. – Yeah, she will.

I hugged Draco and started to cry. My tears soaked his shirt. – Thank you.

- Thank for what? – he asked.

- Thank you for being here. For being my friend - he just smiled and hugged me tighter.

We sit like that for hours. Suddenly Madame Pomfrey's shuffling footsteps broke the intimate silence. – The visiting time is over – she said with a strict look.

Draco and I headed outside. – Maybe the present is not a really good, but the past is. So, tell me about her.

- About Sofia and I? – I asked and he nodded.

And this was the moment when I forget about the time. I told a lot of stories and I'm became too lost in the past to stop. One tale led to another, weaving a tapestry of memories that carried us far beyond the present moment. We had a thousands of memories, but there was one memory that stood out among the rest. It was a memory so vivid, so special, that it demanded its own space in my mind. It was our first camping day.

Both us were eleven years old. It was our last joint family program before school. We hiked and played hide and seek in the forest all morning. In the afternoon we camped and had a barbecue. But the evening was the best part of the day. We lied on a blanket and watched the stars. The silvery points of the sky shone most beautifully then. When we saw a shooting star we held each other's hand, and wished for something.

The air had already cooled down quite a bit when we returned to the warmth of the tent. We turned on a flashlight, and made shadow figures with our hands. Sofia was represented a rabbit when the question accidentally slipped out of my mouth.

- What did you wish?

- I can't tell you, because then it won't come true.

- And what if I tell you too? – after some thought she agreed – I wished we could be friends for ever.

- Me too.

Our conversation was interrupted by the sound of a big thunder. Sofia timidly cuddled up to me, seeking comfort in the warmth of my embrace as her eyes darted nervously around the tent. We turned of the flashlight, and I held her trembling body, then we fell asleep. In a short time the next day arrived, and we didn't want to go home.

I was surprised, when I noticed Draco saying goodbye and going towards his sleeping area. He did a great job at distracting meg. I went to our room with a smile on my face. I lied on Sofia's bed and inhaled her delicate jasmine scent. I felt like she is with me. As if I heard her sweet laugh. As if I could see her crawling under the covers and bending over her sketchbook.

It felt like a lead weight pressed against my chest, the sadness engulfing me in waves as I get up. Tears down my cheeks, a silent testament to the ache within me. The urge to crawl back into bed, to escape from the harsh reality, was overwhelming. But deep down, I knew I couldn't afford to succumb to despair. Slowly, with a heavy heart, I pushed myself to stood up, the weight of the world seemingly crushed my spirit. With trembling hands, I reached for my bag, my fingers brushed against the familiar fabric. As I wiped away the tears clouding my vision, each motion felt like a battle against the sorrow threatening to consume me whole. With a deep breath, I forced myself to take a step forward, my resolve shaky yet unwavering. Despite the pain gnawing at my soul, I knew I had to press on. For Sofia, for myself, for the hope that somehow, amidst the darkness, there would be light.

I almost turned back, when I saw who is there too. She had her back to me, but I recognized her in a second. As if she sensed that I was looking at her, she immediately turned around. I clenched my fists, and started walking towards her. But I stopped when somebody touched my shoulder. I turned around and saw Elara, who was shaking her head. I glanced at the horse-toothed skunk once more, then walked towards the shelves with Elara. After gathering the necessary books, we headed to a nearby table and began our herbology homework.

The Mandrake, scientifically referred to as Mandragora, is a peculiar plant that holds a significant place in magical folklore and herbalism. It boast a unique appearance, with a thick, fleshy root resembling a miniature human figure, complete with limbs and often a vaguely human-like expression. Mandrakes are predominantly found in secluded areas with rich magical soil, such as the Forbidden Forest or certain hidden gardens within the wizarding world. But in some cases and under appropriate circumstances it can be held in a greenhouse too.

Despite their humanoid appearance, Mandrakes are not sentient beings but rather magical flora with potent properties. They are highly sought after by witches and wizards for the versatile application in potion-making, healing, and even defensive magic. The Mandrake's most infamous attribute is its deafening scream, which can render a person unconscious or even cause death if heard directly. As a result, handling Mandrakes requires extreme caution and protective measures, such as using earmuffs or casing silencing charms.

- Sorry, but I have to use the restroom. I will be here in a moment – Elara said.

- Sure, it's no problem – I answered.

Harvesting Mandrakes is a delicate and labour-intensive process, often conducted under the cover of night to harness the magical energies of the moon.

I started to continue my writing, but after describing a sentence, I heard an annoyingly thin voice. – Pansy, I'm so sorry. I got mad and lost my temper. I didn't know what I do.

- Really, Hermione? You didn't know what you did? Okay, I tell you. You hit my best friend, and got her into the hospital wing. This is what you did – I snapped at her.

- I want to apologize – she said.

– Apologize? Are you normal? An apology won't improve Sofia's condition.

- Pansy, calm down – said the returning Elara

- No, I will not.

- I know that, but…

- There is not but. Just leave me alone.

- Okay, I really didn't mean anything bad.

- You did enough bad thing.

- Two of kind– she said, as she headed back to her friends. I can't held back my anger more. I grabbed her by the hair and pulled her back. - Don't you dare say anything about me or Sofia – I shouted.

- Please, let me go – she whispered in tears.

- So now I let you go? In your dreams. You are a little pathetic shrew.

- Let her go, Parkinson – Ginny said.

- If so many of you want it, then I have to let you – I said in a sarcastic voice. I hit Hermione's head to the table, then released she.

I felt the anger simmering within me, growing with each passing moment. Elara still tried to communicate with me, but I no longer heard her. I sensed that stepped closer to me, as if trying to calm the raging storm. Her touch was suddenly firm and reassuring as we began to make our way out of the library. It seemed as though each movement, she was trying to pacify me, guiding me through the shadows until I returned to the safety of my room.