a/n: Totally unrelated to stick season by Noah Kahan, there's just an absurd amount of sticks in this chapter.

The morning that I was to go back to school, Angela woke me up earlier to do my makeup. Despite my protests and "you really don't have to's" she sat me in front of my vanity and set her makeup bag on the counter.

"Not that you need it, of course," she told me, "nobody really needs makeup, but I think everyone should try it at least once. If you don't like it, I'll wipe it right off."

I shrugged my consent. "I trust your abilities."

She put a few products on me — mascara, blush, and a pencil for my eyebrows — while explaining and showing me how they worked and how to put them on.

"I think we should try some eyeliner on you," she said excitedly. "It's really in style right now and I think you'd like it a lot. I won't use much — just a little wing. If that's okay with you?"

"Sure," I said, like I had any idea what that meant. Angela's eyes were sparkling with joy and I could tell she was having a field day. Admittedly, I was too, though this wasn't something I typically enjoyed. Still, I wanted to let her have her fun.

"Voila!" She exclaimed, moving to my side so I could see myself in the mirror. For once in my life, I felt pretty. Not that I usually feel ugly — I'm always satisfied with my appearance. But looking at myself here, I was astounded at what just a little makeup could do.

"Wow," I breathed, "thank you."

"It's my pleasure," Angela looked very pleased with herself, "why don't you take these to school with you? I wouldn't mind at all. I have loads of other products and these seem to work better for you than me."

"That's so generous of you, but you really don't have to—"

"Nonsense," she waved away my protest, "I was showing you how to use them for a reason. Just remember — only use them if you want to, not because someone else wants you to or because you want to impress anybody. You've impressed me immensely without even trying."

"So have you," I told her, "you're nothing like what I expected you to be. I'm glad you're here — I haven't seen my father this happy in a very long time. Thank you."

"I hope to keep it that way," Angela said, blushing with a fond smile, "and I'm very pleased that you think so highly of me."

I wasn't sure how anyone wouldn't think highly of her, but I just smiled in reply. She zipped the products back into her little bag and handed them to me.

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you," she said, beaming.

I laughed, taking the bag from her. "Very professional."

She winked, "I'm glad you think so."

We left for Kings Cross two hours later and both her and my father waved me goodbye on the Muggle side of Platform 9 3/4. Once on the train, I found myself my own compartment and sat down. Before lifting my luggage into the compartment I grabbed my copy of A Study in Scarlet and began to read to myself. After a few minutes, the compartment door was opened.

"Hey, Lila." Dean stood in the doorway, but did a double take. "That's new. Angela's work, I'm guessing?"

I nodded, unsure how this interaction was going to go. We hadn't had a real conversation in a long time. "Yes, she's very skilled."

"I can see that," he remarked. He motioned to the seat across from mine, "is this seat taken?"

I shook my head, and much to my surprise he put his luggage into its compartment and sat across from me.

There was a bit of silence. I moved my gaze to look out the window, the train had started to move and we were leaving the station.

"Listen, Lila," Dean began. I turned back around to look at him. His lips were pursed, as though fighting the urge to blurt something out.

"I'm listening," I encouraged.

"This is weird." Dean finally burst. "I don't want things to be weird anymore. I miss being your friend, and I miss having you in our little group with Seamus and Neville. It doesn't feel right without you, and also we're all abhorrent at studying, and-"

"I've missed you too, Dean," I found myself laughing in relief. "I don't want it to be weird anymore either. I thought I'd done something wrong and that you wouldn't want to speak to me anymore."

"That's ridiculous," Dean rolled his eyes. "You didn't do anything wrong. If anything, I shouldn't have been so in denial."

I raised an eyebrow. "In denial?"

"You know, more honest with myself," he smiled wryly. "We've all seen it for years now. Seamus had to remind me day after day how obvious it was, but you know me. I'm optimistic. But I'm sorry if that troubled you."

I blinked, now utterly confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't tell me," Dean squinted at me. "You don't know?"

I frowned at him. "I don't know what?"

"Oh my God, you don't know." He sat back, laughing. "It's nothing, Lila. Nothing at all."

I pestered him until Neville and Seamus joined us. They also knew whatever I didn't know, and held it over my head for the entire train ride. Even Neville.

I'd have asked Hermione when I arrived, but she was in low spirits. Apparently not only was Ron not speaking to her, but Harry as well. Over a broomstick.

"Harry should know better than to trust something like that out of nowhere, especially when he knows Black is after him," Hermione stabbed her cabbage with vehemence.

"Hermione, you saw what happened to his Nimbus," I said gently. "Not to say I don't agree with you. I think you did the right thing. He just hasn't come around to understand it yet."

"Well I suppose you're right," Hermione still didn't seem pleased. "Could you tell them that they're being ridiculous?"

I sighed, because we both knew how well that would go over. "Sure thing."

I did try the next morning before Care of Magical Creatures, but neither of them would hear me out.

"After everything she's done for you you're really going to ignore her because of a broom?" I hissed.

"A Firebolt," Ron said sharply, "and that's exactly what we're doing."

"Well excuse me for thinking our friendship meant more to you," I snapped. "Honestly, I'm so disappointed in both of you."

"Well until I get my Firebolt back I guess you'll both just have to stay disappointed," Harry stuck up his nose and walked faster. I scoffed at him.

"Unbelievable."

I doubled back to Hermione and Neville, shaking my head. As we neared Hagrid's we noticed a dangerously large bonfire lit behind it.

"Look here," came Malfoy's voice from somewhere behind us, "that oaf's going to burn down his sorry excuse of a hut!"

A fit of laughter from the Slytherins ensued.

"Give it a break, Malfoy," I called back, not bothering to turn around.

"Break's over, Holmes," he quipped, "and besides, after that bloody chicken's executed maybe he'll go on vacation."

"What?!" I cried, turning to Hermione. "Buckbeak's getting executed?"

Hermione looked at me solemnly. "Tried. Harry and Ron and I did some research to help Hagrid with his case over the holidays — well, when they were still talking to me."

"I'll help," I said quickly, "I'm really good at that sort of thing."

"Hope you're not planning on trying to save him," Malfoy finally sidled up beside me. "It'll be a waste of time."

"Really? Because our defense is rather solid considering wasn't even Buckbeak's fault." I turned to shove my finger into his chest. "You weren't paying attention and you did the one thing Hagrid said not to do. Maybe if you took your head out of your arse you'd be able to hear better."

There was a low "ooooooo" from the other Gryffindors, while Ron and Harry were looking between me and each other with equally shocked expressions. Malfoy, who I expected might have something to say in retort, just stared, properly stunned. I huffed at him and grabbed Hermione and Neville, walking them toward Seamus and Dean.

"Well done," Seamus patted me on the back.

"He's so frustrating," I seethed, "he was fine before break and now he's back to being a bigot."

"Ah, so a lover's quarrel?" Dean elbowed me, grinning. I pushed him off playfully, my mood lightening.

"Watch your mouth Thomas."

He laughed, as did Seamus and Hermione.

We reached the bonfire a few moments later. Hagrid was nearby with a pile of logs that he was placing carefully into the fire.

"Seems a little excessive for keeping us warm," I joked.

Hagrid grinned, pointing at the logs in the fire. "Look a little closer. See the salamanders?"

I squinted into the flames and noticed a large red-orange lizard scuttling about, followed by another, then another. Some were just basking in the flames. I knelt down to look at them closer, tightening my ponytail so as not to burn anything.

"They're adorable," Hermione beamed. "It looks like they're smiling at us." 

"I kind of want one," I told her, watching one leap from one log to another. Brutus and Willow would be livid if I tried to adopt yet another pet.

"Lucky fer you all yeh'll get ter help care fer 'em," said Hagrid, heaving one last enormous log into the fire. "I'm goin' ter need smaller sticks n' twigs. Don't go too far inter the forest, but there should be plenty there on the edge."

"Try not to throw your wand in there," Seamus teased Neville.

Neville rolled his eyes. "Shove off, Seamus. Your wand's already on fire half the time anyway."

We all laughed; Neville looked very pleased with himself.

"Damn, alright," Seamus shook his head, looking between the two of us. "I guess everyone's getting cheeky today."

Hermione and I walked together a few feet into the forest. It was much less frightening at daytime. I'd hardly believed Ron and Harry when they said they'd found a whole family of Acromantulas here, and then I was furious they hadn't taken me (I was in a magically-induced coma, but that was besides the point). Hermione and I were on our way back with a bundle of sticks in our arms when I felt the tap of a stick on my shoulder.

When I turned, Malfoy took half my sticks into his own arms, but only to peer closer at my face as though seeing it for the first time.

"I didn't know the makeover came with an attitude," he cocked his head. I realized that's why he hadn't said anything in retort. He'd never seen makeup on my face before, and probably wasn't expecting to. I'd recreated Angela's work this morning, though it had taken me an extra fifteen minutes to do my eyeliner so it didn't look uneven.

"You can thank my father's new girlfriend," I replied, turning on my heel. "Turns out she's a lot cooler than I thought she'd be."

"It suits you." Malfoy fell into step beside me.

I grinned mischievously. "Did Draco Malfoy just give me a compliment?" I swished my ponytail and pretended to swoon, "oh, isn't this divine?"

"Oh, shove off," he scowled at me, "you've gotten too full of yourself — I ought to start making fun of you again."

"I'm full of myself?" I rolled my eyes at him. "And since when did you stop?"

"Oh, I never did," he said thoughtfully, "but I have been holding back. You know, lest you freak out on me about not being your friend."

I stomped on his foot.

"Ouch!" He grimaced, rubbing his head, "what the hell was that for?"

"What have you been doing this whole time anyway?" I asked, ignoring the question as we approached the bonfire. "You didn't have any sticks."

"I do now." He said, lifting half of my hard work. "You really expected me to help, Holmes? As if."

I dropped my load into the fire, Malfoy following suit. A few of them scuttled into the new space, settling pleasantly in the flames. "Just admit it. You think the salamanders are cute."

"My cousin used to have one in her fireplace." Malfoy said, considering them closely. "They live a long time, you know."

"Sounds like an interesting cousin." I remarked.

Malfoy laughed. "She is."

I wordlessly returned to the woods for more sticks. Malfoy wordlessly followed.

"I didn't know your father had a girlfriend," he said after a few minutes, hands in his pockets as I bent over to retrieve more twigs.

"Yes, well, that's because I never told you," I shrugged.

"For how long?"

"Since last May." I stood up straight again, a new bundle in my arms. Malfoy held out his in front of him in an offering, and I placed the bundle there instead.

"Do you like her?" He raised an eyebrow at me.

"Not before I met her," I said, knowing better than to remark on his strange behavior, "but I do now. She's a witch, but my father and I had no idea until a few days ago, it's a long story, see-"  Despite myself, I began to tell him. I watched his features light up with interest and amusement.

"-and you should have seen the look on my father's face," I chuckled. "Priceless, really."

"Sounds like you had a happy holiday," Malfoy remarked.

"That I did," I nodded, "how was yours?"

"Same as always." He shrugged. "We always have a big Christmas Party, you'd find it pretentious, but other than that I spent most of it at Blaise's."

I hummed. "Get anything interesting?"

"No Firebolt," he huffed. "But I'm not surprised. That thing costs a fortune, and my father is more interested in my grades than Quidditch. He's hoping I get top marks in all my classes this year, so I've gotten a few study aids and more durable quills." He looked surly for a few moments before shaking his head. "Pansy got me these top-of-the line Quidditch gloves though, even stitched my initials in them at the wrists. I'll show you at some point, she did an excellent job."

I couldn't help but feel touched at the gesture, even as an outsider. Perhaps Pansy was softer than she made herself seem. I supposed I was the same way around my own friends.

"That's sweet of her," I told him, smiling to myself.

I continued collecting sticks in a peaceful silence, Malfoy carrying the accumulating bundle as we trekked along the forest.

"I didn't want the hippogriff to die," he said suddenly, making me freeze in confusion. "My father was the one who wouldn't stand for the family name being soiled, and my mum wasn't too happy that I was hurt. I was the one that pushed for the trial, but they don't know about that. I went to see the Minister myself, made up a blubbering excuse about wrong and right and how I was the victim so I should have a say." He chuckled at my stunned expression. "Fudge is concerningly easy to fool."

I looked at him as hope began to bubble in my chest. So he hadn't gone back to being an arse after all, he was just trying to hide it. "That was good of you."

He fixed me with a meaningful look. "Don't tell Granger."

"I won't." I promised, though he and I both knew I probably would.

I hardly had time to tell Hermione anyway, because then we had class, followed by dinner, and then I had another Occlumency lesson. I was making a lot more progress, but my visions still came on stronger than ever.

After another dive into my subconscious, Snape put his hand on my shoulder to steady me. Perhaps we were both tired, or perhaps I'd just really wanted to know, because I blinked and suddenly I was standing in front of the Whomping Willow. This was the first time I'd gone back from someone else's eyes — usually I was the observer. Maybe I was truly turning into an empath, because I was also filled with rage. Snape's rage.

I picked a stick up off the ground and aimed it at a knot at the bottom of the great tree. As expected, the tree froze and gave way to a passage within its roots. I proceeded inside, letting it close behind me as my feet took me down the passage.

I froze when I heard voices, familiar ones, from the room up ahead.

"It's coming soon, I can feel it," Lupin stood anxiously in the corner, entirely naked. Thankfully, he was facing away from me. The person he was talking to, however, was not.

"Prongs will come out in just a moment, but I can't seem to find Sirius," James Potter was staring at a piece of parchment in front of him, frowning. He just happened to look up at me right as Lupin cried out, and hair started to sprout from his limbs.

"Shit," James swore, and he was running toward me with nothing but fear in his eyes. Not even contempt, not even the hatred I was so used to seeing. Fear. For my life.

He took me with him, grabbing me by the arm and forcing me along. I began to run, the howling behind us fueling our pace. We only stopped once we were far from the Whomping Willow. Panting and flushed, this was when James finally decided to be angry.

"Who told you?" James hissed, pointing his wand at my throat. "Who told you about Moony?"

I laughed coldly. "Look around, Potter. Which of you isn't here right now?"

And James' eyes widened, his mouth wobbling. "No," he said. "Sirius wouldn't."

"James? What's going on?"

"Speak of the devil," I sneered, turning to face him. Black stood there, finally seeming to recognize what had just happened.

"You." Black laughed at me, hard and cold. "Learned your lesson, did you? Find what you were looking for?"

"Sirius!" James roared, looking furious. "How could you?! To do this to any of us is unforgivable, but to Moony—"

The last thing I saw was the terror on Black's face when he finally registered what he'd done.

With a feeling like being flushed from a toilet, I was back in my own body in the present, not Snape's in his fifth year. I looked at him, hardly knowing what to say.

"You know now, what he's capable of," Snape said, standing. "You've seen it though my eyes. How he tried to lead me to my demise, betrayed his own friend's deepest secret, not for the last time."

"James saved you." I recalled. Harry's dad had looked so much like him, it was uncanny.

"And I became indebted to him for life," Snape said furiously. "Which wouldn't be so difficult if his son wasn't running into a new sort of trouble every week."

I wanted to remark that Snape had a funny way of showing it, but I decided against it. After all, a new idea had appeared in my mind that I couldn't seem to get out.