Make It Yourself

Harry walked in a daze up to Gryffindor Tower. He didn't know why he was going there, he just felt he should be walking somewhere.

"Lord Skyeyes, how are you doing?"

"Alavel, you can just call me 'Harry'."

Harry stopped and waited for Alavel to catch up with him. The two continued on towards Gryffindor Tower.

"You don't look so well," Alavel said. "Are you feeling alright?"

Harry mentally tallied each part of his body to see if it was in "acceptable condition". Spending so much time with Rose had made him question whether sickness was actually poison.

"I feel fine."

"That's not what I meant. How was your date with Ms. Chang?"

"It was great… I think."

He didn't need to look at Alavel to know the expression he had on his face. It was his "you don't sound so sure" face, not to be confused with his "are you telling me the whole truth?" face. To the casual observer, they were identical, but Harry knew Alavel well enough to tell them apart.

"I mean… we didn't just stop and talk. We talked, mostly about Cedric and Hermione, although I don't know why Hermione. Cho kept bringing her up, but… I don't know, it never seemed… nice. I always thought Cho was nice."

"She's probably still upset about Cedric, who shouldn't have gone straight to check on Lady Brain directly. He could've easily gotten the information he wanted from Lady Princess." He gave Harry a significant glance — specifically, his "take note" glance. "Take note of that for the future."

Harry nodded, briefly remembering how much he used to hate Alavel giving him advice.

"If you are truly interested in Ms. Chang, I suggest you give her some time to recover first. It seems your date has left you uncomfortable."

Harry sighed. "It was never like that with Ellie," he muttered. He stopped walking for a moment when he realized he'd said it out loud.

"I—"

"It's quite alright. Retaining feelings for someone is nothing to be ashamed of, but it can be unhealthy."

Harry smiled and nodded. He was glad that Alavel was the first person he'd found.

"I'd like to talk to Ron about joining our club," Harry said. "I don't know about Sally-Anne. She said she doesn't really agree with what we're doing, but I think Ron will."

"I think that's a wonderful idea, Lord Skyeyes."

"Harry."

"Of course, Lord Skyeyes."

Harry rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile.

"I'm sure you're all wondering about what happened at the last meeting," Harry said. "And why Hermione looks like Ron today."

"I thought she looked uglier!" Fred exclaimed.

Ron clenched his fists, but got a quick head shake from Alavel, and so backed down.

"Hermione's still in the Hospital Wing. For those of you wondering, they're easing her back into classes, so hopefully she'll be alright. We really appreciate you all keeping this to yourselves. Madame Pomfrey says she'll be letting people visit tomorrow, so make your plans accordingly." Harry turned towards Ron. "Ron is here as our resident expert in summoning, which is what today's lesson is about. Admittedly, the Summoning Charm is exactly that: a charm, so Professor Flitwick will be teaching it to you in your fourth year, if he hasn't already. However, it has amazing defensive utility, as Ron has demonstrated before."

Harry motioned for Ron to step forward.

Ron paled and took a few hesitant steps towards the mass of people. Teaching Sally-Anne was one thing; she wasn't judgmental. Fred, George, and Ginny certainly were. They thrived on judging him, putting him down, and making his life all-around miserable.

"When you walk into a room," Harry said, "what's the first thing you look for?"

"Something to throw," Ron said, scanning the room as it was. "You've got feathers, a few Quaffles I think, books, and some shoes. The feathers won't do you any good, not unless you animate or transfigure them. The books are good as is. You can summon one to you for a quick block, but only if it's close enough."

"Alright, let's start there," Harry said, drawing his wand.

Ron got a flashback of Rose hurling a table at him and pulled out his own wand. Without waiting for Harry to act, he aimed it for one of the books.

"Accio Book!"

The book flew towards him as Harry fired off a stunner. Ron rolled aside and grabbed the book. Without thinking, he aimed his wand for Harry's feet.

"Scotoro!"

The Scattering Hex caught Harry off guard and sent him flying. Being a Seeker, he had the reflexes to recover quickly and fire another stunner. Ron threw the book between him and Harry, then took aim at it.

"Depulso!"

The book took the stunner and flew at Harry. Harry sidestepped and fired another stunner.

Ron took the chance to bring the book back in, ducking aside the stunner.

"Accio book!"

The book abruptly changed direction and knocked Harry on the side of the head. He fell to the ground as Ron caught the book.

Their "students" broke into applause, although some were more concerned about Harry than they were excited for Ron.

Neville was the first one to Harry. He checked him over, but declared him alright.

"Hold on," Ron said, holding up a finger. "That caught you in the head, so you might have a concussion."

"I'm fine," Harry said, climbing to his feet.

"Which is what you would say. Just follow my finger."

"What for?"

"Well, it checks for—"

"Forget I asked."

After Ron checked Harry over, he declared that he was alright. Then the entire crowd cheered.

"See?" Harry said when he was back on his feet. "That was summoning, repulsion, and… what's the last one you used? Your favorite spell?"

"That was a Scattering Hex," Ron said to Harry.

Harry motioned towards the crowd, and Ron repeated it loud enough for them to hear.

"That's one of Professor Flitwick's favorites," Ron added. "He says it's helped him out of a lot of tight places."

"It's considerably more dangerous than the Summoning Charm," Harry said, rubbing his head. "And we've all seen how dangerous that can be, so I just want everyone to practice summoning. Remember, it's Accio."

"AW-see-oh," Ron said. "And don't flourish your wand when you cast it, just small flicks towards yourself." He demonstrated himself, although remained careful not to summon anything.

As the students broke off into groups and started practicing, Harry approached Ron.

"Thanks again for doing this."

"Sure."

The thought that they hadn't asked him in the first place still nagged at the back of his mind.

Let it go, he heard Sally-Anne's voice say. He asked you now, and that's what's important.

"I'm sorry it took so long to ask you," Harry said. "We should've asked you about it in the first place." Muttering, he added, "That's what I get for listening to Hermione."

A flash of her face from last year entered his mind, bringing sorrow with it. It wasn't long before it was replaced by an image of Hermione in the Hospital Wing. Ron didn't know what she'd done to her hair and face, but he hated it. That wasn't the Hermione he knew.

"You alright?" Harry asked.

Ron looked up at him.

"Sure."

Ron was certain Harry was looking at him with scepticism, but he chose to ignore it. Instead, he turned towards the students and went to help them. As he did, he put any thoughts of Hermione away in the back of his mind.

Luna tried to look around and find out where she was, but her head wouldn't move. All she could see was a dank cavern. And Toad. No, not Toad, Neville.

He clutched at his head and struggled to speak.

"I will trap Moon in the worst of her nightmares. I can choose—"

Neville abruptly stopped holding his head. Luna didn't even see him move.

"I will trap you, Moon, in the worst of your nightmares."

With no visible transition, Neville switched to clutching his head, this time with both hands.

"I won't say it!" he screamed. "You can't—"

His screams echoed as he faded away, leaving Luna alone in the cavern.

"Moon."

Luna spun around and saw Hermione standing with her. She couldn't tell, but she hoped it was Brain. Her hair was back to normal.

"It's alright, Moon. We're going to help you."

Black ink leaked out from Brain's shoes and spread over the floor. As it crept closer, black tendrils rose up from the ink.

Luna stepped back, but bumped into something that felt like another person. She jumped and looked around.

Neville stood behind her, smirking, his sword drawn.

"I'm going to hurt you, Moon. No one's here to save you this time."

She tried to run, but the ink had reached her feet. It held her fast, so she curled up and waited for the nightmare to end.

"Make it stop," she whimpered. "I want to wake up now!"

All at once, her dream snapped back to the original one. She once again stood before Neville, watching him clutch his head. He fell to his knees, raving about not wanting to do something.

Luna tried to cry out, but her mouth wouldn't move. Instead, she rushed to his side, opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

He looked at her with tear-stained eyes, but he too was unable to speak. As he tried to move his mouth, his lips sealed over it. His jaw shook and moved as though he were still speaking, and his entire body trembled.

As Luna struggled to understand, the dream snapped back to Neville and Hermione closing in on her. She screamed again and closed her eyes, trying to block it out.

<Moon, open your eyes!>

She obediently opened her eyes and saw the familiar, somehow comforting view of her room in Ravenclaw Tower. Tutela stood over her, her ears and eyes at attention.

Images of the dreams still swam in her mind. Neville's tortured screams lingered, but his laughter kept drowning it out. It was as if one dream was trying to force the other out.

<Are you alright?>

Luna shook her head, then got out of bed. She threw on her robe and grabbed her pack.

<Moon?>

<I just need to get out.>

She ran over to the window, unlocked it, then jumped.

The sound of scratching at his window put Neville on high alert. Before he knew the source, he was out of bed with his sword drawn, ready for an attack. Once he realized it was Tutela, he lowered his weapon.

"Tutela?" he whispered, unlatching the window so the homunculus could get in.

Tutela didn't enter the room. Instead, she nodded behind her, then grew in size and lowered herself to just below the windowsill.

"You want me to go with you?"

Tutela nodded, then bumped him on the chest.

"What?"

Tutela, unable to speak with Neville, bumped him on the chest again. She turned her head to stare at something in the room.

"What do you…" Neville glanced around the room, then spotted his toad broach sitting on his nightstand. He looked back at Tutela, and saw her gaze fixed on the broach.

"You want me to wear it?"

Tutela nodded.

Neville grabbed his broach, having figured out why he'd been summoned, then climbed out the window and onto Tutela.

The two of them floated to the ground, then crept across the grounds. Tutela led the way to the Whomping Willow, where Luna sat, curled into a ball. She wasn't far from the base of the tree, so Neville walked cautiously to avoid setting it off.

"Moon?"

Luna looked up as they approached. Her eyes darted from his face to his broach, then she smiled.

"Toad."

Neville ran over to her and put his arms around her. She immediately dissolved into tears, but struggled to tell him about her nightmares.

"I don't know what happened," she sobbed. "I… first it was one, then the other. That's never happened before! I don't know what's going on! They're both so horrible! Then the really bad one kept trying to force its way back into my head!"

At first, Neville tried to think of what would be doing that. Then he caught Tutela glaring at him, and decided he didn't care, that Professor Dumbledore, Hermione, or Ron could figure it out instead. All that mattered was that Luna was upset. He held her tighter and let her cry.

As Luna calmed down, she started breathing through her nose instead of her mouth.

"You're smelling me again, aren't you?"

"Your scent makes me feel safe," she replied simply. She nestled closer to him. "Like pine needles."

Neville gave a small chuckle. "I still find them in my clothes. They get everywhere." He glanced through the dark towards the Forbidden Forest.

"I almost miss going there."

"Maybe Professor Hagrid will let you come with us to feed the thestrals."

"I'll do that, if you'll go with me and Professor Sprout to collect plants for the gardens."

"That sounds like fun."

"It is." He smiled down at Luna. "Feeling better?"

Her own dreamy smile formed on her face. "I am now."

"Good."

He kissed her. When he looked again, he saw Luna blush. Without saying a word, she nestled closer to him, and the two sat alone until the sun rose.

Over the next month, Hermione slowly began going to classes again. She could feel the stares of her classmates, but did the best she could to tune them out. Her friends still remained wary of her, which didn't help.

"How are you feeling?" Sally-Anne asked one day after Ancient Runes.

"Fine, just like the last time you asked," Hermione said. "Honestly, Princess, I'm fine."

"Just making sure."

Harry didn't let her rejoin the CI, which only furthered her frustration towards her friends. Of course, Ron didn't talk to her, but that was just as well. She didn't want to antagonize him.

Her first meal was partway into December. She couldn't remember feeling more alone than when she stepped into the Great Hall. Looking at her friends, she felt that none of them would accept her again. She'd been informed about Cedric and Cho, and didn't want to make things worse by sitting with Cedric. Sally-Anne was sitting with Ron, and Ginny was with Dean, so she had nowhere to go.

She crept along the Gryffindor table, looking for somewhere to sit.

"Brain!"

Her head darted in the direction of the sound, and she spotted Neville and Luna waving to her. Stranger than that, they were smiling at her.

"Over here!"

She hesitantly made her way to the Ravenclaw table and sat with them.

"Glad to see you back," Neville said.

"Yeah," she said slowly. "Erm… are you two sure you want to sit with me?"

"Why wouldn't we?" Luna asked. "Your hair's almost back to normal."

"I suppose it is."

Hermione looked at the food in front of her.

"I'm not hungry."

"Of course not," Neville said. "None of us are."

"I sort of am," Luna said, placing some food on her plate.

"How's Arithmancy going?" Neville asked.

"Erm… pretty well, actually. I've gotten back into it, and Professor Vector's been helping me with an idea I had a few months ago." Hermione motioned to her bag. "I can show you, if you'd like."

"Show her," Neville said, motioning to Luna. "She's the smart one."

Hermione was certain she'd never seen Luna blush before, but there it was.

"Moon, I'm… I'm really sorry."

Luna tilted her head, reminding Hermione of Rose.

"About what?"

"About… about what I did last month."

"It's fine. You weren't you then, but now you are."

For a moment, Hermione wanted to jump across the table and hug them both.

"I… Thank you. I thought you'd still be upset."

"Brain, this is Moon," Neville said. "I'm not sure you've met, but she doesn't stay upset for long."

"I think we have met before," Luna said, looking confused.

"She also doesn't entirely understand sarcasm."

"What's a sarcasm?"

Hermione nearly burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry, that just reminded me so much of Rose."

And like that, she had friends again. After spending weeks thinking her friends would never forgive her, just like that, everything was fine.

When an owl dropped a letter in front of her, all Sally-Anne felt at first was curiosity. It didn't look like the typical letter from her parents, so she quickly inspected the return address.

"Oh."

It was from Nikolai, which only served to further spark her curiosity. He certainly didn't make a habit of writing her.

"What is it?" Jonathon asked. She wasn't sure if it was good or bad that the Nertlyn boys had taken a shine to her. Either way, Alex appreciated someone keeping an eye on them.

"Something from Nikolai," Sally-Anne replied, carefully opening the letter. "One of the players from the Quidditch match last year."

She opened the letter, paying mind to any prying eyes around her.

Dear Sally-Anne,

I am sorry to tell you this, but I have bad news. Viktor has been injured in practice. Last night, a man broke into the pitch where we were practicing. He fired a few hexes before we could stop him. One of them struck Viktor.

He is alive, but his eyes are damaged. He is at St. Sana's hospital, room 301. We could not get the man responsible. He ran before we got to him.

It is dark magic, so they don't know if they can fix him.

Nikolai

Sally-Anne stared at the letter, her appetite gone. Knowing that Viktor was alive and not fatally wounded brought her some comfort. Without his eyes, he couldn't play Quidditch.

"What's wrong?"

Sally-Anne looked up at her housemates. One word of what had happened, and it would spread to the entire school by supper, not to mention the Daily Prophet.

"Just something I've got to sort out," she replied. "Excuse me." She looked down at her food. "I've lost my appetite."

She walked out of the Great Hall, looking for somewhere to rest and collect her thoughts. Turning her head to the ceiling, she considered the Room of Requirement at first, but she didn't want to walk that far.

"Myrtle."

With her heartbeat in her ears, she forced herself along the path to Myrtle's toilet. She let herself in, and, as always, found Myrtle on her own.

"Sally-Anne!" Myrtle exclaimed delightedly.

At first, Sally-Anne didn't want to say anything. She felt horrible about bringing her friend down with her, but her face gave her away.

"What's wrong?" Myrtle floated closer. "What's that in your hands?"

Fighting to keep back tears, Sally-Anne explained what was happening, emphasizing that Myrtle couldn't tell anyone.

"Anyone," she said when she'd finished. "At all!"

"I won't tell anyone," Myrtle said. She put her ghostly arms around Sally-Anne, not that Sally-Anne could feel them. "I'm so sorry. At… at least he's alive."

"There is that," Sally-Anne said, sitting on one of the toilets. ��It's not much, though. Quidditch is his life. It's all he's ever wanted to do. What's he supposed to do?"

Myrtle kept opening her mouth, but she couldn't find the words.

"It… it will be alright," she managed at last.

"First, I've got to get there," Sally-Anne said. "I was going in a week anyway. I was going to spend the winter holiday with him in Bulgaria." She shook her head to clear it. "No use worrying about that now. If nothing else, I can go see him in a week. For now… I should probably write to Professor Moody. He might have some ideas about what to do. I'll see if Madame Bones will respond to my letters. She might know who that man was. Or maybe Professor Dumbledore knows something, or Professor McGonagall."

Sally-Anne took out a notebook and started making a list of people that might be able to help with Viktor. Then a list of people that might know about the man who attacked him. Finally, she started on her hardest task: getting to Bulgaria.

"I should write to Mum and Dad so they know. They may have some idea of how to get me to Bulgaria. If I can get back home, they can get me anywhere. Now I need to figure out how I'm getting home." She opened her planner and checked the date. "December 15th, and I've got the weekend to worry about this. I suppose that's something." She flipped forward. "But term doesn't end for another week. I can't imagine it'd be alright for me to miss that much." She closed everything up and put it in her pack. "Now what?"

She bid farewell to Myrtle and started towards class. All day, she tried to come up with a reason to be excused from class for a week. She didn't want to lie, but she didn't want to risk word getting out about Viktor. Assuming it hadn't gotten out already.

That night, she approached Professor McGonagall before dinner.

"Professor McGonagall, I've got a request to make, but you can't tell anyone about it."

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows.

"Oh?"

"Viktor's been hurt. Badly. They aren't sure if he'll be able to see again. I'd like to leave for the winter holiday a week early. I'll take whatever exams I need to before I go if I can, or when I get back. I don't mind the extra work if the other professors don't. And I won't get the answers from anyone, I promise."

"I doubt there's a single person in this school that would honestly believe you'd cheat," McGonagall said. "That's not the problem. We can't just send you home early, not without the appropriate paperwork."

"I can have my parents write to you or Professor Dumbledore if that's what you need."

"In a normal year, that would be all you'd need. But we've been under scrutiny from the Ministry. They'll want to know the exact nature of your absence, and I'm sure you don't want word of this spreading more than it has to."

"I'm afraid it's going to before long," Sally-Anne said. "I'm surprised no one knows about it already."

"If there's one thing Durmstrang teaches, it's how to keep secrets," McGonagall replied. "Even I don't know Durmstrang's location."

Sally-Anne nodded. "What can I do?"

"I'm willing to grant your request, but it's not up to me to keep it a secret. Umbridge will have to know as well."

"I understand, thank you." Sally-Anne curtsied, mostly out of habit. "Although, to other students, you might want to consider calling her 'Professor Umbridge'. It demonstrates a more unified front."

McGonagall raised her eyebrows again.

"I'll keep that in mind, Ms. Perks. I'm glad I could be of assistance."

Sally-Anne spent dinner trying to decide whether to risk asking Umbridge. Hermione was wrong; she wasn't out to get them. At the same time, she couldn't be too careful. She didn't know Umbridge that well.

Her indecision persisted into the night. That night, she had rounds with Malfoy. That meant an exchange of pleasantries, and then utter silence for the rest of the night.

"Any plans for the holiday?" Sally-Anne asked, making another attempt at conversation.

"My business is none of yours!" Malfoy snapped.

Sally-Anne made a note that she'd heard the same response in various ways from Malfoy.

"Malfoy, I've got a problem with which you might be able to help."

"It's not my problem!"

"I need something from someone, but if I ask her directly about it, I risk exposing a secret that I want kept… well, secret."

"As I recall, exposing secrets is what you do best," Malfoy sneered.

Sally-Anne made two mental notes: her patience had improved, and Malfoy's face was particularly slappable that evening.

"What would you do?"

"Find leverage and use it against them, obviously."

Sally-Anne ran through anything she might be able to use as leverage, but she came up dry.

"What if I haven't got anything?"

"Then find something! It's not like you to complain, Perks."

"I'm not—"

"Aren't you the one that said last year to stop complaining and just go for it?"

If you want a better world, you've got to make it yourself!

"I did say that, I think." She smiled at him. "Thank you, Malfoy. You've been a great help."

Sally-Anne almost couldn't believe that she'd meant that.

"Ha ha," he replied dryly. He clearly didn't believe she meant it.

The next morning, Sally-Anne found Professor Umbridge in her office. She walked in and explained the situation.

"Professor McGonagall said I needed to clear it with you first," Sally-Anne said. "I don't want it getting out that Viktor's been injured, otherwise the Daily Prophet will jump on it."

Umbridge sat in her chair, sizing up Sally-Anne with a look. Sally-Anne remained neutral, not wanting to put her off.

Without another word, Umbridge reached into her desk and took out a piece of parchment. She wrote something on it, then tapped it with her wand. The parchment rolled up, then Umbridge handed it to Sally-Anne.

"This will identify you as yourself if anyone asks," Umbridge said. "I've signed it myself, so you won't have any problems. The official reason for your absence will be a family emergency. I'll fill in any details the Ministry requires, without including Mr. Krum's name."

"Thank you, Professor," Sally-Anne said. "I can never thank you enough."

"I'm sure. Will you require transportation to Bulgaria?"

Sally-Anne shook her head. "No, thank you. I got a letter from my mum this morning. She said she's taken care of everything. I just need to get back to Platform 9¾."

Umbridge took another piece of parchment from her desk and handed it to her. "Take that to McGonagall. She should know what to do with it."

Sally-Anne took the parchment. After placing it in her pack, she curtsied to Umbridge.

"Thank you again, Professor."

Umbridge nodded to her, then Sally-Anne left her office to find Professor McGonagall.