The castle felt different with everyone back, crowded and overly warm. Harry found himself escaping as soon as he could to a forgotten corner of the library, just for a bit of freedom. For once, no one came with him, and he settled back in the frayed plush with a sigh, pulling his robes around him for warmth and letting his book bag fall to the floor, freed from slightly trembling fingers.

Ron was busy catching up with his Housemates, as was Hermione. He wasn't sure where Millie, Blaise, or Theo were, but he assumed something similar. His Head of House was probably off trying to catch ne'er-do-wells in the dungeons, swooping around like the overgrown bat he portrayed. He was free to be alone, to be himself.

Or so he thought, as he curled up on the chair, his head resting against the wall. This bit of the library was deserted as always, although he could hear the low murmuring of a few industrious students who had already braved the slight chill to study or catch up on the homework from break. There was an enormous picture of Salazar Slytherin on one side of him, and an equally enormous picture of Rowena Ravenclaw on the other. They both seemed to be sleeping and with a slight smile on his lips, Harry snuggled into his chair to do the same.

For a few minutes, all was peaceful, and he found himself slipping into a doze. Then, a loud scuffle erupted from a bookcase only a few feet from him and acting on instinct, he dived beneath the table, listening to his heart thud a frantic tattoo against his ribs, his mind full of static.

"Careful!" Harry heard Hermione's voice squeak.

"I'm trying," Millie responded irritably. Harry peeked out from under the table and saw the two girls emerge from the stacks, angling toward a table not that far from him. They didn't even spare a glance for his cramped corner, a fact he was profoundly grateful for.

"So what's this about, Granger?" Millie asked, flopping gracelessly in a chair and scowling at the bushy-haired Ravenclaw. "You can't possibly want to study more, can you? Wait-you're a Ravenclaw. Of course you can."

"It's not about that!" Hermione defended, although even from under the table, Harry could see the guilty blush tinting her cheeks. "It's about, well, it's about Harry."

The boy in question cocked his head in confusion under the small end table. About him? Why? Whispers echoed in his thoughts, and he pushed his hands against his ears for a moment, nearly frantic. Not now. He couldn't go to sleep now.

"What about Harry?" Millie questioned. Hermione bit her lip, looking as nervous as Harry had ever seen her.

"Have you ever noticed that he acts, um, a bit different?" Hermione burst out, folding and re-folding her hands in front of her.

"How d'you mean?" Millie asked. Beneath the end table a few feet away, Harry felt cold then hot then cold again. The buzzing in his ears intensified.

"Well, you know," Hermione looked awkward. "How his voice changes. He walks different. His handwriting even changes sometimes! I'm worried."

"Sounds normal to me," Millie shrugged, but even from this distance, Harry could see her eyes had gone very flat. In her distraught state, Hermione didn't seem to notice.

"It doesn't to me," she insisted. "And have you seen how he picks at his meals? How he flinches if someone shouts around him? I'm worried about him...about his home life...about everything," she trailed off, biting her bottom lip even harder.

"Yeah, okay," Millie acknowledged. "But how does talking about it behind his back help anyone?"

Exactly, Harry thought, feeling the muscles in his legs cramp. Nothing's wrong, Hermione, let it go.

"I think he might have some kind of mental disorder," Hermione blurted out, and Harry lost control.

At first, Jay was slightly confused to find himself crouched under a table, hiding like a Hufflepuff. Then he realised what precisely was going on, and the anger that rose up in him in rivaled even that caused by Snape. The betrayal cut at everything, stinging like poison in an open wound.

But for once, the overly confronting boy did nothing. Merely sat there, listening to Hermione babble on and Millie offer up noncommittal responses.

She's a Slytherin, all right, Tom commented dryly. Jay started.

What do you mean? he asked, his fingernails digging into his palms.

Hermione may be a friend, but she's not in Slytherin. Millie isn't going to tell her a damned thing that she doesn't already know, because she's not one of us, Tom pointed out. Somehow, it didn't help much.

"Look, Granger, I get your point but again, talking about him behind his back doesn't exactly help with whatever he's got going on," Millie finally pointed out, as bluntly as she could. "Why not talk to him?"

Hermione flushed harder, staring down at the table like it held the answer.

"I'm afraid to," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

"Why? He's your friend, ain't he? Your best friend?"

"I know that!" Hermione snapped out, then instantly apologized. "I'm sorry, it's just...I don't know."

"Afraid of what you might find out?" Millie guessed shrewdly. Hermione's cheeks reddened to a painful-looking colour.

"Better to know, isn't it?" Millie continued. "Then play this guessing game and torture yourself. Ask him."

And with that, the Slytherin first year got up and left, leaving a very stunned-looking Hermione behind.

At first, Jay wanted to clamber out from under the table and confront her, demand to know why the fuck she was poking into their business, talking about them behind their back. But Tom demanded caution, demanded thought before action, and so instead, he sat there and stewed until the girl also packed up and left, and they were free to crawl back up into their cozy chair, now decidedly less comfy.

Why'd you stop me? Jay demanded.

Because you would have lost us our friend, Tom answered calmly.

So? She's a fucking backstabbing bitch! Jay exclaimed, eyes sparking with anger.

She is concerned about us and is going about it the wrong way, Tom countered. It is not the best of ways to handle things, but then again, she is eleven. Besides, think of Raven. Do you wish her to lose her only friend so soon?

Well...no, Jay admitted, looking at the girl inside. Her eyes were brimming with frightened tears, and she had the most imploring expression he'd ever seen on her face. But she shouldn't be talking about us like that!

And Millie already told her that, Tom said, heaving a sigh. There is nothing to be gained from confronting her, not like this. We would be much better off if we thought of a more appropriate course of action to deal with her, and Millie.

Fuck you for having a point, Jay scowled.

And now, Tom continued like Jay hadn't said anything. We may as well go back to the common room. It's not exactly relaxing being here anymore, and Blaise and Theo will be sure to wonder where we've vanished.

Fine, Jay said and bounced to his feet, slamming his book bag over his shoulder. The walk back to the dungeons seemed to take no time at all.

When they slipped through the wall, Millie was standing there, seemingly oblivious to the rest of the students.

"Hi, Harry," she said, but her eyes were still strange and flat. "So how long were you listening to me and Granger?"