I took a left at the staircase instead of a right with the rest of my house. Dean caught on to this instantly, as I had to release his little finger from mine to walk the other direction.

"Where are you off to?" He furrowed his brow at me.

"Detention." I lied. "With Snape."

"I thought that was on Friday?" He asked, his frown deepening.

"He changed his mind and gave me another one." I simply shrugged, though I knew this wouldn't work as well as it had on Harry and Ron. Even Hermione was still suspicious.

Dean blinked incredulously. "Weird for him, considering you're you."

"Yeah." I managed, avoiding his eyes. "Well, if I don't get eaten by a Dementor I'll be back a little after nine-thirty."

"I'll walk you," Dean offered quickly, stepping out of the moving line. For some reason, my heart started to pang again. Dean didn't know anything, and I didn't want him to. Would he still like me enough to fancy me and hold my hand, or even be my friend?

"What a gentleman," I smiled, though it was mostly sad. "I'll live. Get to bed, or finish that Charms homework that's already overdue."

"I insist," Dean stepped toward me anyway, and I found it to be comforting. He grinned at me, bright and warm as the torches lighting the halls. "Last time I let you wander off by yourself you didn't wake up for five and a half months."

I stared at him for a moment, but it didn't seem like he'd take no for an answer. I couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Touché," I said. "Let's go."

Dean left me only when we reached Professor Snape's office and he saw me inside. Snape told him to make haste and watch for Dementors, closing the door behind him after Dean had turned the corner. 

"Sit."

I did as I was told, taking a seat in the stool that I sat in for class at the front of the room. It was strange to be here alone.

"I can tell you're afraid," Professor Snape said bluntly. "And while that's good instinct, you need not be. I have a feeling you'll be able to grasp this concept well."

He began to go about the details of Occlumency and Legilimency both, emphasizing my part in the process: clear your mind, empty your thoughts, set your emotions aside, resist.

"There are several types of Seers, though there are so few of them that the lines between each type are quite blurred," Professor Snape explained. "From what the headmaster has told me, you seem to be an empath — particularly susceptible to people's emotions and their pasts. Hence why the Dementors affect you so potently."

I shuddered. That made sense, though I didn't bring up the one vision I'd had of Malfoy's tattoo in the future. Perhaps that one was a fluke.

"I'll be trying to break into your mind — it'll feel similar to what you felt around the Dementors — and I urge you to close your mind off and resist."

The first few attempts were not successful. Snape saw into many of my embarrassing, traumatic, or incriminating memories. One of the boys at my primary school dropping my journal in a fountain. The word "freak" written on my desk. Me blowing one of the older boys around with my anger controlling the wind, remorseless when his ankle broke. My father walking me out of school that same day, the tears in his eyes being the only reason I felt guilty.

"Control your emotions," Snape ordered after I'd resisted him just barely enough to come back to reality. I could feel sweat pooling on the back of my neck, and shame bubbling in my throat. I pushed it down, closing my eyes to breathe. It was hardly enough time to recover before he casted the spell again.

Then were more recent memories. My father and I crying over Anne's letter, me getting knocked out by Ginny in Myrtle's bathroom, Malfoy and I playing music together at the end of the term. Brutus biting Seamus' hand on the train here. The Dementor's arrival in our compartment.

It was after this memory that I finally gathered the strength and clarity of mind to resist, though the guilt and shame from my younger years simmered at the pit of my stomach. My breath came out shaky, but I felt triumphant when Snape nodded at me.

"Not bad, for your first attempts," he conceded. "We will leave it here, but in between now and next week, practice getting a handle on your emotions. You never seemed to have a problem with that before."

No, I realized. I hadn't.

He ended up walking with me back to Gryffindor tower, probably to ensure that I wasn't accosted by the Dementors. He nodded to me curtly when we arrived. "I'll see you on Friday."

Once inside, I spotted Dean and Seamus playing Exploding Snap. Neville was reading a few feet away, sitting on the armrest of the sofa.

"I'm guessing the Charms paper has yet to be finished," I summoned one of the ottomans over to sit on. Seamus rolls his eyes at me showing off.

"We really did mean to do it," he insisted. "But we took a bet on whoever won the game doing the work for the other to copy, and best in one went to three, and then to five."

I snorted. "Maybe if you both did your own work you'd have finished in half the time and gotten twice the points."

The both of them shrugged. "Not worth it," they chorused.

"How was detention?" Neville asked me. "Heard Snape hasn't been too happy since — y'know."

The incident with the Boggart had gotten out and spread like wildfire. It was true — I'd never seen Snape so angry. He glared daggers at Professor Lupin at every meal, and was somehow even meaner to Neville during class.

"As enlightening as scrubbing cauldrons can be," I jested, the lie simple and believable. "Better than sorting the supply cupboard with Malfoy will be."

"I don't like that he's leaving the two of you alone," Dean made a face. "Especially after what happened." At my silence, he quickly added, "I trust you not to start anything, but Malfoy—"

"I was the one that started the argument," I defended. "He's not all bad. He's just—"

"A bit of a prick sometimes?" Seamus finished exasperatedly. "Be honest, Lila. He's a lot of a prick, all the time. Sure, maybe he turns it off for you to get you to like him, but he's still Malfoy. You can't change that."

"I'm not trying to change him," I said heatedly. "He's a good guy at heart." I think.

"Yeah, a real great guy whose spell could have killed you," Dean frowned at me. "I just don't know why you still trust him, Lila."

Feeling defeated, I blew out a puff of air. "Me neither."

It wasn't long after that I retired to my dorm. Her canopy was closed, but I could tell Hermione was hard at work on her bed by the sounds of her quills scratching and the fact that her pajamas were still at the foot of her bed. Parvati and Lavender were fast asleep.

"Hermione," I said gently, peeking through the curtain. She jumped, not hearing me come in probably because of the soundproofing charm she'd casted.

"Lila," she blinked belatedly. "You're back from detention already?"

"You've been working nonstop for two hours. You were in this same position when I left," I opened her curtain wider so I could sit on the edge of her bed next to a few scattered pieces of parchment. Crookshanks laid curled up and sleeping at the foot of her bed. "While I admire your dedication as a peer, as a friend, I think it's time you shower and get ready for bed."

"I appreciate it, Lila, but my course load—"

"Hermione," I said more firmly. "It's 10:30. Shower and get ready for bed. I won't until you do."

Hermione would delay taking care of herself, but when it came to her friends, she would do whatever she could to help them. She knew I was doing this for her, but she sighed and begrudgingly sorted her papers and books in her bag.

"Oh, alright," she said. "But if I remember anything I've forgotten I'll be working on it right after I get out."

When she left, I opened the drawer to let Brutus out. I sat on my bed with him in my hands as he slithered around.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to leave you there for so long," I told him. "Are you hungry?"

"Not yet. I usually hunt when everyone's asleep," Brutus wrapped around my wrist. "Somebody's rat's always running around at night too. He's missing a toe."

"Yeah, that's Ron's." I chuckled. "You leave Scabbers be, will you? Ron will not be happy with me if you eat his pet."

Brutus unwound from my wrist to slither back into my palms. "I wasn't planning on it. It seems — off."

"Off?" I questioned. "Well, he is an old rat. He probably would taste a little moldy."

Brutus seemed to make a face somehow, and twisted his tail behind him to indicate disgust. "Yeah, count me out."

Hermione came out of the shower a few minutes later, so I left Brutus on my nightstand to take my turn. When I came back, I was pleased to find that she was fast asleep.

Friday night arrived too soon.

Malfoy and I awkwardly waited outside Snape's office, trying not to look at each other. I hadn't regretted what I did one bit. I was still livid, hurt lingering after that night in the hospital wing, but after Wednesday, I was trying once again to control my emotions.

Footsteps come up the corridor. I looked up to see Professor Snape striding towards us.

"Follow me," he said once he'd arrived, leading us to a door. Unlocking it, we saw that inside were shelves upon shelves of vials and beakers and containers with labels. They didn't seem to be well organized at all, and the shelves were dusty. I recalled Hermione had run back here when collecting Polyjuice ingredients — how had she found anything?

There was a shelf on each wall of the room that stretched across the expanse of the wall except for the side with the door, which was empty.

"Sir," Malfoy said indignantly. "You're not going to make us do — make me do — elves' work?"

I bit back a scoff at the distinction.

"You both will be cleaning the shelves and sorting my ingredients in alphabetical order," he said. "No magic. There is a ladder to reach the higher shelves. I'll return at ten o' clock to see what's left of you. If you can manage not to tear each other to pieces, you will come back same time next week. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," we both said solemnly. Professor Snape used his wand to turn the lights on, had us hand him our wands, then shut us in there. For a few long moments, we stared at the door in silence, as though hoping it might open again.

"I'll use the ladder to reach the higher shelves," I said finally. "You start taking the ingredients out of the lower ones."

He sneered at me, and I fought back the urge to punch him again. "You really think I'm going to do anything? This is Muggle's work! Besides, you got us into this mess, you should be responsible for getting us out."

I pursed my lips, putting a cap on the anger that was boiling up inside of me. Control yourself. What could I possibly do with this situation?

"Besides," he continued as I began to climb the ladder to gather ingredients. "Doesn't he realize my arm is injured? What could I do anyway?"

"Your arm is fine, Malfoy," I said gruffly, putting the first round of ingredients back on the ground. I climbed up for more. "If you could do what I asked you to we'd be out of this a lot faster."

He scowled. "Keep dreaming, Holmes."

I took a deep breath, biting back a retort as I brought down another set of ingredients. "Just help me get the shelves cleaned tonight and that will leave the sorting for later."

"Not interested," he said, turning his back to me.

I considered throwing the pickled spider eyes I was holding at him."Now I'm going to start dusting off the shelves — once I've finished, start using the rags and solution."

He made a face. "Do I look like a maid to you?"

"Quit whining idiot and just get to work."

Years and years of dust had accumulated on the shelves — I didn't mind getting my hands dirty but I had to turn away to cough several times in the process.

After a few minutes, Malfoy begrudgingly began to wipe and dry the newly-dusted surfaces, muttering to himself. He had to put the rag down to spray and then pick it back up because he was still insistent on keeping his sling on. I didn't think I'd ever met somebody so prideful.

After many arguments and snide comments, Professor Snape finally came back to fetch us. He looked disdainfully at the mess on the floor.

"We're sorting them next time," I said quickly. "We decided to clean off the shelves first."

"I'd hope so," he said, grimacing. "I won't be able to walk in here for a week, mind you. Lucky for you the ingredients we use for class are in the cupboards."

He paused, then beckoned us out of the doorway with a motion of his head. "Out with you both. I don't want to catch either of you outside your dormitories in fifteen minutes. Holmes, I'll see you Wednesday after dinner. I'll see you both same time next week — don't forget your paper on Shrinking Solution next class."

"Wednesday?" Malfoy whispered to me once we were out of earshot, just a hint of accusation in his voice. "What other blokes are you giving black eyes to?"

"Just you, Malfoy." I droned. "It's not a detention."

He frowned, as if this was worse. "What is it then?"

Despite myself, I finally snapped."Oh, we're having evening tea and gossiping about McGonagall's new shoes." I spat. "Why do you care? I thought we weren't friends."

Malfoy opened his mouth to retort, but closed it shortly afterward. Then, he blinked, a frown befalling his face. "Oh. So that's what this is about."

"Of course it is," I felt my face go red with both anger and embarrassment. "That is what it's about, Malfoy." I turned away, but scowled over my shoulder. "Silly of me to think otherwise, though, wasn't it?"

"Holmes—"

But I was already gone, marching down the corridor and up to Gryffindor tower.