The arrival of the new matron had the school buzzing far longer than usual for a staff announcement. Dumbledore had announced Laura at dinner the day I met her, and she was supposed to be in the hospital wing on and off for the rest of the year, up to three days a week from what I gathered. I should have been more specific actually in saying that ‘the school' was buzzing, as what I really meant was the school's male population. Half the boys were missing their mouths with their forks at the meals she was present for. While it irked me to see so many moon eyes staring up at the staff table, I had to admit the boys were not wrong in finding Laura good looking. While Laura - according to Minerva - was thirty-two she did not look it. She certainly had a fair few boys swooning over her honey coloured eyes and freckled nose. I felt a little sorry for her though, for it seemed as though all of the boys had found out her schedule within a week, and she was having a fair few of them coming to her complaining of obscure symptoms. I did find it a little funny though, and couldn't help but smirk at it.

      Rather than drooling like an idiot, over the next few days Harry appeared to be deep in thought. I had been told earlier that Dumbledore wasn't letting Harry tell anyone but those who would be willing to help him accomplish whatever Dumbledore was instructing him to do during his private lessons, which had begun not too long ago. I didn't know what they were about, but I wished he could tell me, for whatever he had been told today obviously was troubling him or at least making him think quite deeply. There were very few things that Dumbledore permitted him to tell me, but often after a lesson Harry would come and sit in my office while I marked papers and mull things over. We would stay silent, but that was alright, for those days we didn't have a lot to say but enjoyed each other's company anyway. It was almost too overwhelming to sit alone with what lay ahead, for the days were getting darker.

      Albus had told Harry of the prophecy at the beginning of term, though he had left out the part of who informed the Dark Lord. It had been a bad night for the both of us, myself mostly because I knew eventually I would have to tell Harry it was I that informed the Dark Lord. In addition to this, while I had overheard only part of the prophecy, Albus finally informed me of the rest as well. Neither can live while the other survives. It was dangerous to tell me it seeing as I had a very high price on my head in the eyes of the Dark Lord, but Dumbledore thought that I needed to know. I sensed there was something else I was not being told, that Albus must in the end tell me. But he had not yet confided, and I felt that when he did something would change drastically, though what or how I knew not. There was one thing that I did know, and that was that there was a very great chance that I would be informed by the end of the year, for Albus was dying. The fool had put that cursed ring on, and now we were all going to pay the price. It hurt me more deeply than I could admit to myself, knowing that he was going to leave me soon. We were closer nowadays. I figured it had something to do with how near I had come to death over the summer, and maybe a little bit because he had to leave so soon. But there was no speculation as to the question of Albus dying. He was in the process already. Harry did not know. Draco did not know. I was the sole person in which Albus had confided his secret. It would have been far too much for him to bear, and even as I walked down the corridors each day I almost felt that it was even too great for the both of us. Even if he wanted to, Albus could not say more for the fear of the school being attacked. What should happen if the Dark Lord learned of his compromised position? It would be very grim, that was for certain.

       Sometimes I had nightmares of the school under siege. Children stirring at the foot of shattered staircases while fires raged in the towers, and wooden beams fell upon the fighters below; such bleakness I hoped to never see. But one does not often get what they hope, and I could not pretend that Albus dying would not change the Dark Lord's unwillingness to attack the school. I think even at that point I knew that it was inevitable, what must come. Every time I dreamed such things I awoke in a cold sweat, muttering under my breath a sort of wish, or prayer even, for us to have a warning before any sort of attack.

     These were the things that filled the back of my mind as the world got more complicated, as the cracks spread out before us on the battlefield. Make one wrong move and it all falls to pieces. It was in the back of the minds of everyone, for with a war looming, how could it not be? Though oftentimes it seemed like there was nothing but blackness, things were not always dark those days. There was light too; lots of it even. I had Harry, and Draco. Hermione as well, for she too was on good terms with me, along with the Weasleys now that they had gotten used to me. It also helped that I was no longer a Death Eater, because I did not have to impress any of the families who were sympathetic to the Dark Lord in class. I could be fair for the first time in my teaching career, and however much I had had thought I enjoyed being biased, I now knew that it had in fact often pained me to do so.

      Many of my Slytherins had grown cold towards me because of the change, however, not that I minded it so. Their parents had no doubt informed them of what had happened, and knew just what a traitor I was. Like I said, this did not bother me in the least, but I worried for Draco. Everyone knew now that he, unlike his parents, was not for the Dark Lord. How can one be when your parents were murdered before you by the very same beast of a man? Draco may not have got along with Lucius and Narcissa, and they may have neglected him, but sometimes I could tell that that moment changed him. Some things make the soul older, and that night was one of them. With all of the things Draco had to see already, the way the Slytherins were now treating him left a bitter taste in my mouth and an ache in my heart. Draco was now shunned by them all. Not even those who were not for the Dark Lord accepted him anymore, as the ones who were in His favour turned even the children of families who remained neutral or on our side. Things had started out small in September, but by now, the beginning of November, things had escalated.

      I wished so much to expel the ones causing him  trouble, but the worst part was that it wasn't just one, or two, or even three of them. It was damn near the whole house. How do you justify to the Headmaster that you expelled that many students? No, I had to hand out a hell of a lot of detentions, but what do you do when those don't help? They didn't care how many times they were punished, they didn't care what for. All they wanted was to make Draco pay for being disloyal to the Dark Lord. But they were mostly giving him trouble because of me. I had reason to believe that some parents were telling their children to give him hell to get to me, as many had gone out of their way to disrespect me in class and in hallways, with comments they surely could not have come up with on their own. I was the real problem, the real reason Draco's classmates had turned on him, and this fact made me sick.

      So with all of these thoughts in my head, I had no difficulty understanding why Draco came barrelling into my office without knocking, and panting up against the closed door asked if he could stay for just a minute or two.

     Nobody who heard those thundering footsteps go past my door would be unable to understand why I said yes. I was out the door and handing out detentions before Draco could protest. I told today's offenders their detentions were for running in the hallways, but I think they had it figured that I knew just what they were doing. I wasn't quite sure if they knew Draco was in my office, and so I thought it better not to reveal this fact, which was why I gave them detention for other reasons.

    Once inside I found Draco with his back up against the wall, breathing heavily. I conjured a chair and he took the hint to sit down immediately. I sat down and resumed marking tests. One look from him and I knew he was thankful for what I did.

     "What were they trying to do this time?" I asked softly, as though I were talking to a frightened animal.

      "The usual."

     It is a sad thing when all someone has to say is those two words, and you understand precisely what they mean. And I do not mean someone's preferred choice of drink, either.

     "Are you hurt?" I asked, as I knew that the students who most often were after Draco liked to jump out from places and try to give him a good punch or two before he could get running. He was quite fast, after all. The problem was that Draco often wasn't given enough time to draw his wand or even think of a spell. He was lucky if the person chasing him wasn't fast, but there were plenty of those who were that had jumped on the bandwagon.

     "My eye," he muttered. Sure enough it was colouring nicely.

     I pulled a little tin of bruise balm out of my desk and handed it to him. Just another day, just another bruise.

      "It's tiring, isn't it? Wondering when someone's going to find you next," I told him as he began to gingerly dab the paste on his eye. He nodded, the look on his face showing he knew this feeling all too well.

       "What did people do to you? When you were in school, I mean," Draco asked hesitantly, almost like he didn't want to know but needed to. I had not waited long to tell him he was not alone, that I too had gone through it, and most of all that things get better eventually.

       "Well, for one thing you do not want to know the worst of it," I said, setting down my quill and resting my hands on my desk, thinking back to fifth year and as usual wishing to disappear upon recalling that event.

       "What was the usual, for you?"

       "Hogtied and stuffed in a broom cupboard," I said immediately with a grimace, the words coming almost second nature. According to the talk of the school, James Potter's grandparents had lived in the countryside, and usually had some animals around. I was just another gross pig to tie up. Thank Merlin Harry's like Lily. I couldn't imagine what I would do if I found Harry torturing students in that way.

     "Hogtied?"

     I nodded.

     "Is there a spell for that?" Draco asked incredulously.

     "I daresay there is, but my tormentors found it more fun to stun me and tie the knots without magic. Likely they were too stupid to learn the spell anyway."

     "So, they'd just leave you there?" Draco whispered. "How did you get out?"

    "Well, usually I'd have to wait for someone to open the cupboard. It was difficult to make noise, as they often gagged me as well." I frowned and examined the desk a few seconds, lost in thought and a whole host of emotions that had been stirred up. "Usually I'd fall out of the cupboard when the door was opened. It wasn't such a problem when I was younger, but once I grew a little I practically flattened Filch every time he stumbled upon me. He can curse quite impressively."

       Draco looked as though he thought I was telling tales. "Did you really fall on him?"

     "All the time," I said, only just realising that that aspect did have a slight bit of humour to it. I chuckled a little, years having dulled the pain enough for me to see the lighter side. "Actually, if you watch him open a cupboard he still steps well away from the door, just in case someone's in there. That's thanks to me actually. Watch him the next time he's getting cleaning supplies, he still does it."

    "Hang on, Fred and George were talking about that over the summer," Draco said in surprise. "They said it was always really hard to get Filch with any pranks that involved opening doors because he always stays clear of the opening. You're right!"

    Draco began to laugh. The sound made me feel almost as though I was glowing inside, simply because he had been so troubled as of late, and to hear him laugh showed me that the true Draco I knew had not changed so very much, that he was just lying dormant for a while until things got better. He had put on a brave face, one not so very different from the one I had operated under for so long, or even of the one Harry wore these days. We would get through this. I knew so.