We had Care of Magical Creatures after lunch. I was rather excited — Hagrid had come into the Great Hall that morning swinging around a dead polecat.

Ron and Harry were put off that we'd be having the class with Slytherin, though. Malfoy seemed to have taken enjoyment in pretending to faint whenever Harry walked by, much to everyone's annoyance except for the other Slytherins.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" Hagrid told us when we arrived. "That's it — now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books —"

"How?" Malfoy drawled.

"Eh?" asked Hagrid.

"How do we open our books?" Malfoy repeated. We all took out our differently bound books. Hagrid seemed to lose his thunder.

"Hasn' — hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?"

We all shook our heads. I felt bad for him — this was his first day.

"Yeh've got ter stroke 'em," Hagrid said. "Look —"

He took Hermione's copy and tore the Spellotape off of it, then stroking a large finger down the spine of the book. It shuddered and fell open. Dean and I looked to each other, surprised.

"Oh, how silly we've all been!" said Malfoy, sneering. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!"

"I — I thought they were funny," Hagrid said, looking to Hermione.

"Oh, tremendously funny!" Malfoy snarked. "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off—"

"I liked them, Hagrid," I said loudly, pointedly ignoring Malfoy's glare on my back. "Very fitting for this class. Better than a boring book, though some might prefer it." I looked at Malfoy meaningfully. He only scowled at me, irritated.

"Righ' then," said Hagrid, seeming a little more encouraged. "So yeh got yer books an' now yeh need the Magical Creatures. I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on. . ."

He walked towards the forest. As soon as he was out of earshot, Malfoy sighed loudly.

"God, this place is going to the dogs," he said. "That oaf teaching classes, my father'll have a fit when I tell him—"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry repeated.

"Careful, Potter, there's a Dementor behind you." Malfoy said mockingly.

"Didn't know the haircut came with an attitude," I said to him sharply. "And if your father would be so peeved, maybe he should come teach the class instead. At least then he'd have a job—"

Before Malfoy could lunge at me (he looked like he was about to), Hagrid had returned. In tow were a dozen or so creatures that were half horse, half bird; Hippogriffs. He tethered them to the fence and walked back to us.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

They were. Their coats and feathers were admirably shiny, and the hues of their bodies were rich and deep. Hagrid beckoned us to come nearer, but only a few of us did. If anything, Neville backed up.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' Hippogriffs is, they're proud," Hagrid explained. "Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."

I noticed that Malfoy and his lackeys weren't paying attention, still grumbling about what I'd said. I felt a sharp pain in my head, just like the ones I'd had in Diagon Alley. But alongside that came a sudden searing in my arm. I winced.

Dean immediately touched his hand to my elbow, concerned. "Are you alright?"

By then the pain had left, but I knew I hadn't imagined it. "Think so."

"Yeh always want to be polite ter a Hippogriff," Hagrid continued, bringing my attention back. "Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt."

"Right — who wants ter go first?"

Most of the class moved back.

"No one?" Hagrid was looking desperate.

"I'll do it," said Harry.

"Good man, Harry!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Right then — let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."

Hagrid unteathered the blue-grey one from the fence and led him over to Harry.

"Easy now, Harry," said Hagrid. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink; Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much." After having a staring contest for about a minute, Harry bowed to Buckbeak. After a long moments hesitation, the Hippogriff bowed back. Lavender and Parvati heaved a sigh of relief. I rolled my eyes.

"Well done, Harry!" Hagrid clapped enthusiastically. "Right — yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

Harry slowly approached Buckbeak, putting his hand on his beak. Buckbeak seemed to nuzzle into it, and the class burst into applause.

"Righ' then, Harry," said Hagrid. "I reckon he migh' let yeh ride him!"

Harry looked panicked, but Hagrid was already lifting him onto Buckbeak's back. Once Harry was seated, Hagrid slapped Buckbeak on the side. "Go on, then!"

I watched with awe and fascination as Buckbeak flew him once around the paddock and landed him back on the ground. I clapped and cheered with the rest of the class as he got off, looking a little wobbly but otherwise unharmed.

"Good work!" roared Hagrid. "Okay, who else wants a go?"

I gave Harry a pat on the back as he walked back into the crowd. We lined up behind the Hippogriffs. I'd practiced on the bronze one which, like Buckbeak, hesitated agonizingly long before bowing back.

I was watching Dean pet the same one when I heard a yell from behind me — Buckbeak had reared up onto his hind legs and Malfoy was on the ground. There was a long, deep gash in his arm.

Among my concern, I made the connection of the phantom pain I'd felt minutes before. Had I predicted that?

"I'm dying!" Malfoy yelled. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"

I felt my panic fade and my annoyance return. What a moron.

"Yer not dyin'!" said Hagrid gruffly, though he looked rather pale. "Someone help me — gotta get him outta here —"

As Hermione ran to help open the gate, I looked to Dean. "He must have insulted it, what did he expect? Poor Hagrid, this was his first lesson."

We followed Hagrid at a walking pace from a considerable distance behind.

"They should sack him straight away!" cried Pansy, looking as if she were the one who'd been attacked. Again, I noticed just how protective she was of him.

"It was his fault for not listening," I retorted, and ignored her reproachful glare.

"You think he'll be all right?" asked Hermione anxiously.

"Course he will. Madam Pomfrey can mend cuts in about a second," said Harry. "She regrew my bones last year overnight, remember?"

"That was a really bad thing to happen in Hagrid's first class, though, wasn't it?" said Ron worriedly. I nodded.

"Leave it up to Malfoy to ruin it for him," I frowned. Ron laughed suddenly, and I looked to him in confusion.

"What?" I asked.

He grinned. "I'd just remembered what you said to him. Merlin, that was funny. The look on his face—"

Despite himself, Harry snorted too, and I felt my mood lift a little. I'd been out of line, but after sabotaging Hagrid's class, I felt he deserved it.

* * *

I marched up to the Hospital Wing that night, a fresh scolding on my tongue, only to find Malfoy with his back to me struggling to put a shirt on. My surprise quickly shifted into amusement, and I let slip a snicker.

At this, Malfoy whirled around, glaring when he caught sight of me. A sheen of red splashed over his cheeks.

"Holmes! I'm indecent!"

I rolled my eyes. "I can't recall a time you've ever been decent."

He only scowled in response, turning back around, probably to ignore me.

"What's that look for?" I hummed. "Not happy to see me?"

He scoffed, though the effect was lost when he still couldn't get his arm through the sleeve. "No, I'm still angry at you, and I've got half a shirt on so I feel a little ridiculous."

Sighing, I moved toward him and lifted the sleeve. He had a sling on, which would make sense if he had a bone injury, but it was more likely he was just being dramatic. Like Harry had said, Buckbeak had only scratched him.

"Do you even need this sling? Goodness."  I huffed. "Turn around, it's caught on your elbow." Begrudgingly, he did as told without a word. I helped de-sling and maneuver his arm through the hole with a click of my tongue. "It's like I'm your mother."

His ears went red again as he frowned at me. "For the love of all that is good, never say that."

I stepped back once we worked his arm through. Now, I could lay into him like I'd intended.

"You're unbelievable." I told him fiercely. "You know, I really thought you were turning around."

He rolled his eyes and turned his back to me, walking toward his bed. "Why ever would you think that?"

I followed with a frown. "I'm not sure." I paused. "Does it even still hurt?"

Malfoy showed me his bare arm in a stubborn, silent reply. I reached out to touch his reddened skin, my fingers brushing over what little remained of the cuts.

My head suddenly felt like it was being split open. My vision blurred and refocused.

I stared down at Malfoy's arm, but instead of a scratch, I was running my fingers along a tattoo. A skull with a snake coming from the mouth. I felt a chill go up my spine.

"Holmes?"

I blinked back into the present. He was looking at me with a frown, silver eyes searching — curious. He was biting his lip.

"I might be playing it up," he winced. "But it's still, ah, tender."

"Sorry." I dropped his arm like it had burned me. "I got distracted."

Once again, Malfoy only stared at me. He looked like he wanted to ask just what had happened, but he didn't.

"Why'd you even come up here?" He raised an eyebrow, eyes suddenly cold. "We aren't friends. You know that, right?"

This was news to me. I was shocked at how quickly those words tore into me, took root in my brain. We aren't friends.

"I," I bit my lip. "Yeah, you're right." I forced my tone into something more calm, neutral. I stepped away, the distance between us suddenly feeling like a chasm instead of a few feet. "I'm overstepping. I'll see you in class, whenever you decide to recover."

Before he could respond, I turned on my heel and left.

My irritation grew into frustration, so over the week I distracted myself with homework and reading. I didn't understand why Malfoy had gotten me so worked up this time — though he'd irritated me many times throughout the years, I'd never felt like this before.

"Lila."

Dean spoke like he was afraid I would bite, so I did my best to look less frightening. I made my grip on my quill relax as I looked up at him from the corner I'd holed myself into in the library.

"Have you been alright?" He asked with a frown. "You seem — well — peeved."

"I'm fine," I lied. Seeing his expression, I softened. "I will be. It's just—" I blew out a puff of air. "Malfoy."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, though he sounded resigned. "It's always Malfoy, isn't it?"

"He just," I scoffed. "He always has to start something, doesn't he? Just when I think it's going well he has to go back to being nasty and rotten and miserable—"

"Lila, as much as I'd love to contribute in declaring just how much I hate Malfoy," Dean interrupted, amused, "I'm here because Dumbledore needs you. As soon as you can get there."

I blinked, my rant dying on my tongue. "Dumbledore wants to see me?"

"Yes," Dean nodded. "So if I were you I'd stop overworking yourself and pay him a visit — if the minimum is two pages, you don't need to write four."

I snorted. "As far as I care, Dean, you can have the other two."

He grinned at this, then laughed the way that made me melt a little. "Don't tempt me, Holmes."

Despite myself, I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. I had to fight it down all the way to the headmaster's office.

"Dumbledore," I greeted him when I arrived. I wasn't sure when "Headmaster" or "sir" had become his surname, but I supposed being in his office so often might lead to such a progression.

"Lila," he returned. "I've heard your first day was . . . eventful."

I snorted as I entered, closing the door behind me. "You could say that. Is that what I'm here for?"

"No." Dumbledore stated with the tone he takes on when he has more to say. "Unless you have something to tell me?"

I immediately thought back to the sharp pains I had felt in the past few days, and with a sinking feeling, the one I'd felt before I'd had a vision of the tattoo on Malfoy's arm. I ended up relaying all but the last bit, unsure how Dumbledore would react to it. After all, it was just a tattoo. The other pains seemed more important.

"Very interesting indeed," he recalled after I finished. "But not surprising. Emilie had the same problem with the pains that came with being unable to control her Sight. Thanks to her, though, I have a solution."

I sat across from him at his desk as he began to explain the basics of Occlumency to me — the practice of shielding your mind from outward forces.

"I think," he concluded. "Like your mother, you are an Empath, and are susceptible to visions of other people's pasts, more so than their futures. Using Occlumency can stop this from happening involuntarily, though it will take a great deal of time and training."

"I'm willing to learn," I agreed. How else was I supposed to control my abilities? "And you said Professor Snape would help me?"

"He is the most well-practiced Legilimens in the castle, as far as I'm aware, and one of my most trusted colleagues," Professor Dumbledore always spoke very highly of Snape, and I wondered briefly about their relationship before I returned myself to the moment. Right, Occlumency.

"Besides," Dumbledore had continued. "He volunteered himself — I reckon he didn't trust anyone else to delve into the mind of one of his favorite students."

I spared a chuckle. "I wouldn't say that. But I am glad that it's him — I trust he'll do his best with me."

"Well then it's settled," Professor Dumbledore reached across the desk to pat my shoulder sportingly. "Unless you have any prior commitments, he's cleared his evenings on Wednesday from next week on."

"That sounds perfect," I nodded. "I'll speak with him in class to confirm."

As we finalized the technicalities, I felt a weight start to lift from my shoulders. I looked forward to the possibility of not feeling sick every morning and the absence of painful throbbing in my head. After I bid the headmaster goodnight, I let out a contented sigh.

I realized that my mother hadn't had it so easy. She likely didn't know she was a Seer either, and they must have had to experiment to find a solution, not to mention teach it to her. It was comforting to realize that she truly was as strong as my father said she was.

Thanks, mum, I thought to myself as I walked back to Gryffindor Tower.