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I don't know exactly what Ewald said to the others, what he explained to them, but they've passed the word around, and they all know that I wasn't able to kill myself. I know this because Arthur didn't fail to come and talk to me, to ask how I was doing, to rejoice in the future that now awaits me since I've decided to give life a chance. Strangely, it's Alphonse's reaction that surprises me a little. He obviously knows, but he didn't cheer loudly, nor did he really comment; I'd almost wonder if he's happy with the result. Maybe he just doesn't believe it, plain and simple. After all, he's not as naively optimistic as Arthur. Yet, I really can't kill myself. That's the truth.

On the train back to Hogwarts, I spend most of my time staring out the window, seemingly lost in thought. In reality, I'm avoiding thinking as much as possible because it doesn't do me any good. Arthur has gone off to join Cian, and Alphonse has managed to convince (or force?) Ewald to play a game of Exploding Snap with him. He tried to get me to play as well, but not very convincingly. The Slytherin has barely spoken to me these past few days. Overall, I've found him more distant than usual. As for me, I haven't really managed to shake off my dissociated state, but I haven't exactly tried either.

When the train slows, approaching Hogwarts, the Slytherin calls out to me. I raise my eyes to him and see him holding out my wand. I reach out to take it, but instead of giving it to me directly, he locks eyes with mine. I reluctantly meet his gaze before looking away. I struggle to hold his gaze. That breaks the moment, and Ewald hands me the wand, saying in a neutral tone,

"I suppose it's time you got it back."

"Thank you."

Gripping my wand again sends a wave of magic through my body, and for a moment, I relish the sensation before falling back into my apathy. Alphonse says nothing, but he doesn't look pleased. Does he think I'm going to kill myself? And Ewald… he seems really tense. He doesn't say anything else, though, and that stings a little, somewhere. Has he given up? Or is he simply angry with me? I don't want to dig any further into the question, so I harden my mind, using my Occlumency barriers to strengthen the fog of my dissociation. It's probably a bad idea, and I doubt Occlumency was originally intended for such a purpose, but it works a little. I prepare to leave the train, in no rush to find myself surrounded by students in the corridor but not really having a choice.

I suppose I should be happy to be back here, maybe. The only relief I feel is thinking that I'll probably have more privacy here than at Ewald's. My heart twinges when I think about the start of the holidays, when, though forced, the proximity with the Slytherin had done me some good. I enjoyed learning more about him, and I felt like we'd grown closer… That was before he and the others brought me to Quentin, of course. I don't blame him, anyway; I don't have the energy for that anymore. These holidays have been exhausting, emotionally speaking, and I'm still dissociating a lot. Not that it matters. A brief glance at Ewald shows me there's little chance that the closeness I felt last week will return anytime soon. I shrug. At least I'm hurting him less this way.

That thought brings on another. I could also try to do him good, rather than simply doing "less harm." I even have ideas of how to go about it… But I'm incapable of that, too. So, I climb into a carriage following my companions, letting my gaze wander over the Thestrals. The Slytherin catches my gaze but doesn't comment. He sees them too, and now I know why. I wonder what he's thinking.

oOo

The first day back is exhausting. The kids are all excited after Christmas and New Year, shouting out news, comparing their gifts and their holidays, from morning until evening. Even in class, it doesn't stop, and the teachers have to repeatedly call my group to order. I barely see Arthur all day; it's like he's glued to Cian's hip. That's at least a little bit of peace gained, I suppose. Al', on the other hand, keeps an unusually somber expression throughout the day, and I'm starting to wonder if I'm the only cause of it. Since he hasn't gone off to see his other friends, preferring to stay with Ewald and me at every meal, I'd say he's still worried about me. As for the Slytherin, he's fully thrown himself back into his role as the model student, wearing his neutral and polite mask in front of everyone, barely letting it slip with us. Against my will, I feel a bit abandoned by him. I hate my brain. I exhaust myself with my paradoxical feelings. I want to distance myself, and I want him to pay attention to me. I want him to leave me alone, but I feel abandoned if he does. It's so frustrating!

At least, Ewald and the others have let me stay in my usual room and seem to have completely given up on the nightly surveillance. I even cast a homnius revelio last night to make sure. Since I don't really have control over that spell, I'm not one hundred percent certain of the result, but I really do think they're leaving me alone. Yet, I don't find as much comfort in this peace as I thought I would. It does me good, for sure, because I don't have to maintain a mask when I'm alone. I don't have to pretend to care about what's around me. I must admit that I haven't made much effort these past few days, but even the little I have done is tiring. In any case, even solitude can't do anything about the emptiness in my chest. I manage, of course, to swipe a pencil sharpener from another Muggle-born on the very first day so I can start cutting myself again, but even that doesn't bring me anything.

oOo

The first week unfolds in the same fog. I go to class, I eat, I spend my nights in restless sleep, caught between insomnia and oppressive thoughts. I run into Arthur, Alphonse, and Ewald, but we don't talk much. Between homework and classes, we've all been swept back into the whirlwind of life at Hogwarts. Speaking of Alphonse, at least he seems to be doing a bit better as the days go by, which secretly reassures me. He's back to being louder, teasing, and by the same token, slightly annoying, as usual.

I'm struggling to concentrate in class to the point that Scorpius makes a comment about it during Potions one day. I give him some random lie to deflect his attention, and that's the end of it. I'm well aware, though, that I need to put in more effort if I don't want my state to become too obvious. If even an eleven-year-old notices something… Yet a part of me doesn't really manage to care. My grades are slipping a bit because I have no motivation, and some professors take my apathetic attitude personally. Even so, they're still very good, because I still understand the lessons much faster than my classmates. I don't even try to stay at the top of the class.

oOo

On Saturday morning, I'm completely bored. Out of sheer desperation, I start exploring the castle a bit. I eventually find myself at the top of the Astronomy Tower, where I sit down on the parapet. I spend some time staring into the void, a faint smile crossing my face as I recall my encounter with Alphonse. The adrenaline I felt when I jumped… Maybe that's what I need. Adrenaline. Maybe it would help me feel alive, or at least be somewhat entertaining. I stand up on the parapet, amusing myself by closing my eyes and walking along it step by step. Nothing. On the other hand, I know there's no real risk if I fall. I lean out over the edge, teetering on the brink of a fall. Disappointed.

It's in this position that Alphonse finds me, bursting through the tower door, breathless. Surprised by the sudden noise, I turn around. I should have heard him coming, but I've been struggling to focus lately.

"Get down from there immediately!"

He looks furious. I don't understand. I hop down gracefully to the floor, asking innocently,

"What's the matter?"

My companion looks as if he's barely holding back from shouting in frustration. He exhales sharply, violently, before replying.

"I knew it was a bloody stupid idea to give you back your wand, to leave you unsupervised! A few days on your own, and here you go again, eh?"

"Go again with what?" I ask, a little confused.

"Oh, don't give me that rubbish! You're going to tell me you weren't about to jump, aren't you?"

The light dawns in my mind, and I reply with a hint of provocation.

"Actually, yes, that's exactly what I'm going to tell you. What would've been the point of jumping when there's a spell down below?"

Alphonse pales slightly, and I add bitterly, more seriously,

"I wish, like you, that I still thought I could kill myself. But Ewald wasn't lying to you, no matter what he said. You lot have won. So, if you could just leave me alone and let me have a bit of fun, that'd be great. I can't kill myself, okay? I'm dying to, and I'd love that to be literal, by the way."

The Gryffindor's anger seems to diminish slightly as I speak. He looks thoughtful, then asks,

"Are you serious?"

"Alphonse, think for a moment. If I could have killed myself, I'd already have done it. You said yourself that I've been left unsupervised, and believe me, I'd noticed. I could have done it at Ewald's place already!"

In a way, I hate myself for twisting the knife. My eyes glisten with tears I'm forcing back with all my strength, tears of frustration I refuse to let fall. The fact that he doesn't believe me only makes it worse. He still looks angry, but for the first time, I think he's starting to believe me. To drive the point home, or perhaps to hurt him, I let my glamour drop.

"See these cuts? I could have slit my throat twenty times last night. I didn't. You can draw your own conclusions from that."

He's hurting, I can see it, and I feel a fleeting sense of satisfaction that disappears instantly, replaced by self-loathing. He takes a hesitant step towards me, and I put my glamour back in place.

"I'm sorry. I didn't need to do that. I'm in prison, okay? All I want is to finally die, and I don't even have that option! I'm sorry for behaving like this; the situation's driving me mad. But I am truly sorry."

I doubt my apology sounds sincere, even though I mean every word I say. I always think I'm so clever, don't I? He was simply worried. It's not his fault his skepticism felt like acid poured on an open wound. He wasn't doing it to hurt me. I want to cut myself as punishment. I want to die. Right now, I can do neither.

He considers my apology for a moment, shaking his head as if to erase the sight of my wounds.

"I believe you..." he sighs before adding, "You should let Ewald or Arthur heal you. I don't know the spell. And Viv', we can talk, okay? Instead of you doing... that..." he says, gesturing vaguely in my direction.

I give him a smile, more predatory than shy, ignoring his suggestion and pushing my frustration, pain, and shame behind my Occlumency barriers.

"I know what we need."

"Oh yeah?" he asks, unsettled by my sudden shift in mood.

"A good broomstick-jumping session!"

"I'm not sure that's such a great idea..." he protests.

He doesn't sound very convinced, though. I've thrown him off balance. I press my advantage. He's always been uncomfortable with serious conversations, and I'm offering him an escape route.

"We both need to blow off some steam, don't we? And I promise I won't die!"

Alphonse sighs before responding.

"Okay."

He adds under his breath something that sounds like, "Ewald's going to kill me, and Arthur'll flay me alive." I lead him down the tower stairs without commenting, discussing where we might go to jump.

In the end, we find a relatively quiet spot near my dormitory tower, overlooking a small courtyard where most of the windows are bricked up, in a wing of the castle that isn't very busy on a Saturday morning. We go through a few warm-up jumps before I start pushing my limits. That's when I begin to have fun. At first, Al' seems enthusiastic, but gradually I notice him hesitating to jump, his eyes fixed on me. Sensing his hesitation, I reassure him once again that I'm not going to die, explaining that I know what I'm doing. It only half reassures him, which is a shame because I'm just starting to enjoy myself. A few jumps later, I catch myself at the very last moment, and a burst of laughter escapes me. Finally, some real sensations—finally, I feel alive! I may not have fully controlled my jump, but Alphonse doesn't need to know that. Unfortunately, he cuts the session short after that, arguing that he's not quite ready to see me taking such risks after recent events. Killjoy.

oOo

The following Monday, I receive a letter from Quentin via Ewald's owl. The Slytherin hands it to me without comment, and I wonder how much longer he'll remain so distant. It still stings a bit. At the same time, I can't help but question why this letter was sent through him, but I don't ask. I wait until I'm alone in my tower after lessons to open it, and at first, I don't even read it, too busy holding back the wave of emotion that grips me at the sight of his clumsy handwriting. A rush of nostalgia washes over me. Reading one of his letters again, after so many years… I miss him, and the past feels so far away at this moment—out of reach, even as I brush against it.

"Dear Aurore,

I hope you're well? I wish I'd written sooner, but I've been quite busy with Elias's visit, and I also had to wait for Ewald to send me his owl. It's not easy contacting a witch!

I need to talk to you about Elias's visit, actually. I struggled not to mention you to him. Partly because I wanted him to know about you, too, but mostly because he noticed I've been... different, I suppose. He pushed me a lot to talk about it. He always does that, but this time it was something that truly mattered to me, something I wanted to share with him, so it was hard to keep quiet. It's the first time I've found myself in such a situation. Don't worry, I won't tell him anything, even though he could keep the secret. I don't want to put your friends in danger, and I also think that if he's ever to be let in on this, it should be you who does it. But I think it might be a good idea—would you consider it?"

Even though I don't miss Elias as much as I miss Quentin—not by a long shot—hearing about him stings a little. Now that I've reconnected with his best friend (more or less willingly), the thought of seeing him again is somewhat tempting. Oh, I won't do it. I don't think it would be good for him; I don't even know what we could possibly say to each other, and Alphonse and the others have already taken far too many risks. Besides, I can't imagine facing Elias after what I've done. But the idea is bittersweet.

"Actually, Tessa has noticed a change in me since I saw you. She says I'm a little more open, and I think even I didn't realise how much my guilt was weighing on me. I still feel guilty, but it's much easier to bear now. I know you didn't plan for us to meet, but I'm forever grateful that it happened. I'm telling you all this because you were wrong to think that seeing you again would hurt me. I want you to see all the good it's done for me."

It's interesting to see how reversed our situations are. Seeing me again must have hurt him a little, too—if only because he saw me cutting myself and because he worries about me. Whereas for me, it did me a bit of good with a lasting negative impact. Still, what's done is done, and if it means he's a little happier, so be it. What happens to me doesn't matter, after all.

"I'd love to know how you've been since we met. How are you feeling? It made me so happy to see you again. It's strange to think that it's your Hogwarts friends who share your daily life now, who take care of you before I do. Our relationship was put on pause for eleven years, and now everything's changed. Well, that's what one might be tempted to say, but I think some things don't change. We'll always be connected, and it's up to us to decide what to do with that connection. And I love you, Aurore, don't doubt that. There are also things we'll never get back, like our everyday lives at school, but that also gives us a chance to build something new. I don't know how you see it, but as far as I'm concerned, I want to keep being part of your life.

I can't wait to hear back from you. In the meantime, please take care of yourself. I still hate knowing that you're cutting yourself, so please don't. I know I can't physically stop you anymore, but I can still try to convince you. You can write to me anytime, and I'll always read your letters.

See you soon,

Quentin/Danlael"

His letter is so him. I feel a twinge of guilt thinking about my self-harming. Indeed, he can no longer stop me, and I know full well that I will continue. Nevertheless, his open disapproval will always have an impact on me. I don't know what to write to him, how exactly to respond, and I don't tackle it straight away, anyway. Reading Quentin's letter reminds me that I never read the note Ewald slipped into my gifts. That's not like me… At first, I was caught up in the dinners, then the trip to France. After the trip, it slipped my mind. I retrieve the photo album from my trunk, surprisingly still touched by Ewald's gifts despite the fog of dissociation I live in. His gifts show just how attentive he has been to me.

As I take out the photo album, I notice it's not entirely empty, contrary to what I had thought when I unwrapped it. Before discovering its contents, I pull out the small envelope tucked into the cover. It takes me a few moments to decide to open it because it's something Ewald wrote to me before I betrayed him. I could tell myself, hypocritically, that he must have expected me to try to kill myself. But I know him well enough to know that's a lie. What I almost did that night, I was going to do while he was right next to me, while he would have been the one to find my body. Just as he found his mother years ago, even though I now know about that trauma. And the worst part is, it wasn't that knowledge that stayed my hand. It hurts that he's giving me the cold shoulder now, but I know why, and I know I deserve it.

I open the envelope, despite everything, because he wrote these words for me, and I want to know what he wanted to tell me. It's the first time I've received a note from him, and although I've glimpsed his handwriting on his homework, this is the first time I've really paid attention to it. It's neat, as expected, beautiful like medieval manuscripts, but with few embellishments.

"Dear Vivian,

I know that giving you a photo album is a gift worthy of Arthur; nonetheless, it's what I found best to convey my feelings. I don't need to explain the message behind it, I know that, but I wanted to write to you for another reason.

Before that, I don't want you to misinterpret the moment when I wrote these words. It's Christmas Eve, in the evening, after we returned from Diagon Alley. I'm not angry with you for running away, not really. I was very scared. But what happened also allowed me to fully grasp the importance you've begun to have for me. Even so, I can't blame you because I knew you would try something like that. That being said...

I wanted to thank you.

I was surprised to find myself getting used to your presence, enjoying our conversations, even when I thought you were an eleven-year-old child, a bit strange and particularly brilliant.

Now that I know the truth, it makes sense. Even so, I didn't expect to share so much with you by inviting you here. To be honest, I never thought I'd invite anyone here. Even Arthur had never been. I was too afraid for my mother, and, I realize now, afraid of how potential guests might change their view of me after discovering my life.

I know you didn't come willingly, but what you gave me by being here came from you. I think you understand me better than anyone. Perhaps because we've both suffered, maybe also because of the bond we've shared.

I see you respecting my boundaries; I feel your gentleness when you ask me questions and your respect for my limits. It's strange to think that, in just a few months, a stranger has become the person who knows the most about me. And yet, that's what's happened.

I hope to see the time when I no longer have to fear that you'll slip through our fingers. I'm going to do something else worthy of Arthur and tell you that I think your future is worth it. I'm well-placed to know there are things one never completely heals from. But I'm also well-placed to know that things can still get better and that happiness can still be found. My mother's smile during our snowball fight is priceless to me. And that's also why I'm grateful to you.

So thank you, Vivian, and Merry Christmas.

Ewald"

His words strike me right in the heart, taking a shortcut I didn't know existed through my fog of dissociation. I gasp, momentarily winded. For a moment, I can still lock everything away with Occlumency, but what's the point? I stay frozen for a moment, then carefully put the letter back into the photo album. It's only once it's safely tucked away that I curl up on the floor of my attic and let myself cry.

The sobs are violent, raw. I cry hot tears, I gasp for air, it hurts. I can't stop. Every time I start to calm down, a new thought pierces me, and the cycle starts again. Ewald thought this, and then I betrayed him. I cry. I knew, though, I understood, and I must have hurt him so much. I cry. I feel such a sense of waste. And yet, yet, I can't help it, yet what else could I have done? I knew I was betraying him. But seeing these words on paper gives me a different sense of the extent of my betrayal. It hurts so much to think I ruined our relationship. He opened up to me, and I trampled on what he offered me. I keep crying.

Much later, when my sobs have finally subsided, I feel empty. But not the usual emptiness. There's an echo of sadness in this emptiness, a hint of nostalgia. And I am… present with myself for the first time in weeks. It hurts. But, perhaps because of all the tears I've shed, I can bear it for now. I pick up the photo album, and this time I look at what he's put in it.

There are three photos inside. Wizard ones, of course. In the first, I see Arthur and Ewald on the Hogwarts Express. Arthur is smiling, giving the Slytherin a nudge as he offers a faint smile before looking at the camera. I imagine our Hufflepuff friend must have forced his hand on the train at the start of term. In the second photo, a slightly younger Alphonse raises his fist triumphantly in front of the Quidditch hoops. He has a big smile, and the crowd in the stands seems to be applauding. Finally, the third photo shows Arthur and Ewald, who must be in… fifth year? They're playing a game of Dominaris. I smile fondly at Ewald's crooked grin as he plays a card from his hand, making Arthur protest vehemently.

I understand the message Ewald wanted to convey, of course, with this barely begun photo album. That there's so much life to live to fill it… Knowing him, he's probably enchanted it to add pages as I complete it… I don't quite know what to think. I pick up the letter again, taking the time to reread every sentence. It's strange how the letter is almost disorganized (for Ewald, anyway). It's touching to read his fears, almost painful to think that now he's closed off again with me. A few tears escape me again, and I don't finish reading. I carefully place my gift in my trunk, alongside the other presents he gave me for Christmas. What he gave me shows so well the attention he paid to me…

oOo

I don't reply to Quentin's letter straight away, my words are blocked inside me. I hesitate to just stay locked up in my tower until the next morning, but eventually, I go downstairs, walking towards the Black Lake in search of I don't know what. I avoid the places where students usually go, following the perimeter of the lake until I reach a small copse that conceals me from view of the castle. I regret not having brought anything to write with; I feel like a place like this would be perfect to let the words that are clashing in my head come out. At the same time, I don't know if I would have known what to write, everything is so confusing.

I pick up a fairly flat stone, and I try to skip it. My stone only skips once before sinking to the bottom of the lake, so I pick up another, and try again. I continue, again and again, focusing solely on my skips to avoid thinking too much. It has an almost therapeutic effect. In itself, I don't actually stop thinking, but it's as if my brain is taking advantage of my distraction to sort things out a little. I think a lot about Ewald. I really regret what I've done to him. I wish I could fix it, or at least ease the wounds I've caused. At the same time, I'm not sure if I should talk to him about this right now. Maybe it's better to wait, give him some time. I can't figure out if it's too soon or too late. Maybe I should have reacted sooner. What's for sure is that I don't want to lose him.

I keep skipping stones until I run out. Breaking away from my thoughts about Ewald, I look up. The moon is reflecting on the lake, higher in the sky than when I arrived. I cast a Tempus. Dinner must be well underway by now, over there at the castle.

At that moment, I hear footsteps coming from the forest. I hesitate to hide, but a figure already appears.

"Vivian?"

Ewald. As if my thoughts had summoned him. A wave of sadness and guilt washes over me as he walks towards me. His usual mask is firmly in place, even though there's no one else around. He stands beside me, his gaze directed towards the lake. When he speaks, his voice is neutral.

"You shouldn't skip dinner like this."

I flinch slightly. I don't want to have a superficial conversation with him, detached from our emotions. I know what he's doing, since I've done it all my life. Distancing himself from what's hurt us. Tonight, my dissociative fog is much weaker, and I can't act as if nothing's wrong. I turn to face him and force myself to speak. It's difficult because I'm ashamed, and because I'm scared he'll brush me off, or worse, continue as if nothing's happened. But I have to apologize. He has to know that I realize the harm I've done.

"I'm sorry, Ewald."

It's bright enough in the moonlight for me to make out his face as he finally looks at me, and I see him raise an eyebrow in question.

"I-I know that 'sorry' is weak, I just don't have another word. I-I'm so sorry for what I did to you. I-I know I betrayed you. I'm sorry."

Tears well up in my eyes, but it would be too easy to cry, to let him comfort me, or worse, for him to watch me cry without doing anything. He still says nothing, but I see a look of uncertainty cross his face, and his mask is no longer as neutral as before. Slowly and carefully, he sits next to me, muttering a spell to avoid dirtying his clothes. I stare at the lake, unable to look at him now that he's so close. We don't touch. I guess he doesn't look at me either as he finally speaks.

"Why now, Vivian?"

His tone isn't really cold, but not exactly warm either. Because I know him, I can tell it's carefully controlled.

"I read the note you gave me for Christmas."

"You hadn't read it yet?"

A hint of curiosity enters his voice, and perhaps a bit of disappointment. I elaborate, my words picking up speed as I panic. I'm afraid he won't understand, I'm afraid he'll resent me, not knowing what he thinks is really getting on my nerves.

"No, I… I wanted to wait until I was alone to read it, on Christmas Day, but with dinner at Arthur's and the evening, it slipped my mind. And then… Then after Quentin, I was shaken, and when… I haven't stopped dissociating a lot since then… It's only tonight, when I read Quentin's letter, that I remembered. Please, don't think I wasn't interested, I just couldn't bring myself to think about it… I… Your words cleared my fog. I knew what I'd done, but I hadn't fully realized that… I knew, but my understanding wasn't connected to my emotions! I hadn't realized how much it all meant to you… I'm so sorry. I… I don't want you to shut yourself off because of me. I know I deserve it, but I'm scared for you, and Arthur didn't do anything wrong. I'm so sorry. I ruined everything."

Somewhere in the middle of my speech, I start to cry. For once, discreet, silent tears. I'm so sad thinking about Ewald, about what I've done.

For a while, Ewald doesn't say anything, but he slowly stands up. I hesitate to follow him, but his hand gently rests on my shoulder, squeezing it as if to give me strength, comforting. I don't make a move, but my whole body focuses on the sensation, and my tears start to stop. It feels so good. And then the Slytherin speaks, and for the first time in weeks, his emotions aren't hidden.

"Thank you for your apology. It means a lot to me. But for now… I'm going to need time to process all of this, do you understand?"

I have the impulse to stand up, to promise him that I'll never do anything like this again, to apologize again, but he simply shakes his head, as if he knows.

"Something has broken, and it's still too soon for me to know what can be repaired. We're still friends, Vivian. I know you understand, I know you're sorry. But we're both well aware that there are some things we can't change. For now, all I ask is that you give me some space to digest what's happened."

I remain frozen, unable to find my words, and anyway, he has clearly expressed his wishes. I need to give him time, and adding anything would not respect that. I've already caused enough damage, haven't I?

He lets a few moments pass before saying:

"I'm going back to the castle, are you coming with me?"

"I'll stay here for a while longer."

My voice doesn't tremble. It's always when I'm at my worst, when my world is falling apart, that I have the greatest stability.

"See you later then, Vivian. And thank you for apologizing."

I don't reply, staring fixedly at the surface of the lake, listening to his footsteps fade into the forest. I am unable to move, unable to make a single gesture. If I move, I'll collapse. I watch the lake, intently, but my gaze goes right through it. It's only when I can no longer hear the Slytherin that I finally move. I pull my arms around my knees and squeeze, tightly. I burst into tears again. I feel as though a gaping hole has taken the place of my chest. I don't know if I'll be able to calm down. It feels like my world has once again tilted on its axis. I try not to cry too loudly, after all, because I'm outside, and anyone could see me… I've betrayed him, and I've probably lost him. His rejection hurts, even though it's deserved. And I'm so scared that he'll shut himself off. I didn't realize it before, and it's hard to be certain, because we haven't known each other for long, but I feel like he was opening up more and more, and not just to me. And I'm scared that because of what I've done, he'll give up on opening up. That he'll isolate himself. We're similar, he and I, and I know how I'd react. I already feel guilty, but this idea makes me feel even more guilty.

Contrary to my expectations, I calm down relatively quickly, a sense of peace taking shape in my mind. Maybe I've cried too much today. Maybe I'm too powerless. I still hurt, but I put that aside for now to return to the castle. I don't use Occlumency to push those feelings away, though, because it's the first time in weeks that I'm not dissociating, and doing so would likely throw me back into the fog. And above all, I deserve to feel the consequences of what I've done. I can't run away. I can't anymore, since I can't die.

When I get back into the castle, I find Arthur near the entrance. He was probably waiting for me, since he's alone for once. Sighing, I make my way toward him.

"Are you alright, Vivian? I brought you something to eat from dinner."

I shrug. For once, I don't feel like lying. What's the point? I doubt he'll believe me, but anyway, his question must have been rhetorical since he doesn't press when I simply thank him for the food. He walks with me part of the way before stopping.

"I have to go back to my common room now, it's almost curfew."

"Don't want to see the caretaker?"

Arthur shudders, and I'm not sure if it's entirely fake.

"No thanks! Have a good evening, Vivian. And don't forget, you can come talk to me whenever you want."

"I know." I reply, smiling.

Without thinking, I briefly hug him. Surprised, he doesn't have time to react, and I pull away before he can move.

"Thanks, Arthur. And sorry for being like this."

"Are you alright, Vivian? Now you're really worrying me!"

His joke brings a ghost of a smile to my face, and I'm grateful that he doesn't try to hug me, or do anything like that.

"I'm worried too, don't worry." I joke, before adding more seriously: "Don't worry, I'm just… grateful for what you're doing for me. Have a good evening!"

And I flee before he can stop me.

oOo

"I hid it well and no one wanted to know."

-Reflection taken from Vivian's blue notebook-